#breezie brings new wind

[parkerslatte]

The Purest Kind of Love || Part Four

Azriel x Fem!Reader x Eris Vanserra

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: blood. minor injury

Summary: Azriel finds himself in the training room with none other than the new High Lord of Autumn and finds an outlet that might satisfy his anger.

The Purest Kind of Love Masterlist

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

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•••

The night he spent sleeping in Y/N’s old bedroom in the House of Wind was perhaps the most peaceful night sleep Eris had had in a long while. Typically his dreams were plagued with the nightmarish acts his father would make him do to others or acts Beron would perform on Eris himself. This time he dreamt of nothing at all and it comforted Eris more than he would like to admit. 

Word had come late the previous night, once Y/N had escorted him back to the House of Wind, that the meeting that was supposed to happen yesterday was happening this evening. Eris had the whole day to do what he wished. He already knew that Y/N wasn’t around as she had some work she needed to complete and Eris already knew that no one else would be thankful for his presence. Instead he dressed in his most basic attire and made his way to the training area.

It had been a while since Eris had gone through his personal training regime, with all the duties that came with becoming a new High Lord, he hadn’t found any spare time. The clothes he wore were thin and breezy, nothing but a pair of trousers and a white tunic– not the best attire to train in but it was the best he had. 

The training area was empty and the sun was only just rising as Eris stalked over to the blades that decorated the wall, he picked one up without a second thought before going through some of his usual movements with the blade in hand. It was heavy in his palm, definitely heavier than his own sword back in the Autumn Court, but it felt nice in his hand. 

Despite Eris going through his training routine, his mind was elsewhere. Since he had killed his father, his mind has not been quiet, thoughts and images constantly plagued his mind– some good, others not so much. The one saving grace however, was Y/N. 

When the bond snapped between them, Eris was terrified– he still was if he was being truly honest with himself. A mate was never on the table for him. He never thought it was even possible that someone like him could have a mate. All hope of him having a mate had been extinguished by the time he was only thirty years of age. By then he didn’t even want a mate, not if he was bringing them into his horrid family. 

Eris never wanted his mate to suffer the same way his mother did with his father. He never wanted to suffer himself if they ended up suffering the same fate as Jessiminda. 

But actually having a mate was a blessing in disguise. All of the messy thoughts that swam around in his brain cleared instantly when he spoke to Y/N, even being in her presence helped him. Eris felt as if he wasn’t mindlessly drifting away from his reality but was grounded next to her– living. 

With a shake of his head, Eris tried to empty all thought from his mind, though it proved quite difficult. The sun steadily rose in the sky as Eris began his training routine again– hoping to calm his mind without the help of Y/N. 

***

Azriel was on his way to the training area when he caught a familiar, comfortable scent that made him stop in his tracks. The scent was one that had comforted him for many years, even before they had started their relationship. It gently wafted from Y/N’s old bedroom and Azriel’s heart twisted. 

He knew that Eris was residing in that room until his business in the Night Court was over. But smelling Y/N’s scent lingering in the air was almost too much for Azriel to bear. 

Despite him not wanting to even see her until he was sure that she had moved on and he had too, Azriel invited her to the meeting yesterday after finding out that neither Rhys or Cassian had told her about it. She was part of the Inner Circle, she was Rhys’s damned researcher. Everything she did contributed to the court– Azriel couldn’t understand why she hadn’t been told. 

However once he had seen her sitting next to Eris, he couldn’t keep it together any longer. The scent of their bond was too much to bear but no one else had picked up on it. Nobody seemed to know. Azriel was never going to tell them of course, that would be Y/N’s decision, but he came close to blurting it out at the meeting. Just out of sheer jealousy. 

Azriel still found it hard to grasp that Y/N had a mate and it wasn’t him. For years– perhaps even before they had made their stupid bargain– Azriel had hoped that the bond would snap between him and Y/N. He had dreamt about it many times. Seeing Eris’s cocky grin at that meeting had sent Azriel over the edge. He wasn’t sure what made him use his shadows to nearly kill the new High Lord, typically Azriel would be able to stay reserved. 

Azriel wasn’t completely sure what stopped him killing Eris, though the moment he looked into Eris’s eyes as he struggled to tell him to stop, Azriel felt as if he came back into his body. All he could think about was how Eris’s death could affect Y/N. Azriel had witnessed how losing your mate could affect someone with Rhys and Feyre– despite Rhys only being dead a few short moments. He could never do that to Y/N. 

The training area was empty– or so Azriel thought when he entered it. It wasn’t until he stilled when he smelt the faint scent of a burning fire. The shadows resting upon his shoulders poised to strike. 

“That is my blade you are using,” Azriel grumbled. “Get off it.”

Eris looked at the blade in his hands. “Oh is it?” For a brief moment, Eris seems to want to say something else but eventually closes his mouth, pressing his lips together. “I was done using it anyway.”

“Hopefully you are done in the training area too,” Azriel snapped, stalking up to one of the training dummies. Cassian had already replaced them. “You aren’t meant to go anywhere unaccompanied.”

“I am not going to be your little caged animal,” Eris growled. “Y/N already gave me permission to go where I wish. She gave me a ring that allows me to winnow in and out of this house.”

Azriel looked at the ring on Eris’s finger and he fought the urge to rip the ring from his corpse. Since no one could winnow in or out of the House of Wind, Rhys had given Y/N special permission to craft a spell to allow her to ‘winnow’ to the house without problem when she needed to access the library. She had crafted the spell into the form of a ring so it was easier for her to channel. Seeing her create one for Eris left a bad taste in Azriel’s mouth. 

“I see,” Azriel said, sending a punch to the dummy. “She shouldn’t have done that.”

“I don’t see why she shouldn’t,” Eris said. “You seem to forget, Azriel, that I am a High Lord. I should be respected.”

“You are not respected by me,” Azriel said, ending the conversation. 

There was no response from Eris as he continued training with Azriel’s blade. The shadowsinger didn’t stop him, however. All he did was imagine Eris’s smirking face on the dummy and continued to throw punch after punch at it. 

Eris had been spending time with Y/N, that much was clear for her to have crafted him a ring. Even the faint scent of her perfume lingered around Eris, or perhaps that was only Azriel’s imagination. Either way, it only made Azriel’s heart hurt more. Why wouldn’t Y/N spend time with her mate? Azriel never had a chance the moment the bond snapped. 

“Why is it that you are deserving of having Y/N as a mate?” Azriel spoke up before he could even think about stopping himself. 

At that question, Eris was taken aback. His eyebrows furrowed as he seemed to think. Azriel was surprised by this response from the Autumn High Lord. The cocky glint in his eyes was gone and replaced with something more…tender. 

“I am honestly unsure of that myself,” answered Eris sincerely. 

Again, Azriel was surprised. He had fully anticipated a statement perfectly crafted to provoke Azriel. Instead his answer was full of sincerity, even his shadows detected no hint of deception. Somehow it made Azriel feel worse than he already did. 

Continuing to send hit after hit at the dummy before him, Azriel’s hands began to bleed once again. All he could see on the dummy was the face of Eris Vanserra. He was the thing that had flipped his entire life upside down. The moment Azriel had begun to settle down into the life he had beautifully crafted with Y/N, it was ripped away from him in an instant. Their bargain was complete, if they wanted to, Azriel and Y/N could find their way back into the same bed, there was no repercussions now. 

Although, Azriel found that he didn’t want to. The mating bond was much too strong to be ignored and from the way Azriel had scented Y/N perfume outside of her old bedroom where Eris was staying and on the High Lord himself, it was clear where Y/N’s intentions resided. It had happened before with Mor, Elain and Gwyn. 

With Mor, Azriel clung onto hope for five hundred years that a mating bond would snap between them. Despite his family thinking differently, that hope began to die off sooner than many thought. It had come to a stage where Azriel knew his feelings were not reciprocated; and they never would be. 

With Elain, their relationship had been short and only consisted of lingering touches and a near kiss– even then her heart had never fully been in it. And– now looking back on it– Azriel’s heart was never truly in it either. Three brothers and three sisters; it was simple and easy– but it wasn’t truly what Azriel wanted. Of course eventually Elain’s pull to Lucien was too strong for Azriel to even attempt to fight against it– although he found that he never truly wanted to. 

With Gwyn– their relationship was something deeper. Azriel had truly begun to fall for the valkyrie through his proper courting methods. They spent day after day with one another, eventually leading up to sharing a beautiful kiss that made Azriel’s knees weak. However, not even their feelings for one another could trump the power of a mating bond. Gwyn spent less and less time with him, whether it was intentional or not, in favour of spending time with her own mate. 

With Y/N, his feelings had always been different, Azriel had come to realise. It was deeper than simple attraction. He had truly come to savour every single second he spent in her presence. His heart skipped a beat whenever he saw her. His shadows adored her and were constantly dancing around her– even without his instruction. Y/N was the only person Azriel had ever considered living with and building a life with. She was the only person Azriel had ever truly loved– even though he had never told her. 

It was what made everything even harder than it had been previous times. 

“Azriel,” Eris’s voice snapped Azriel out of his silent rage. 

His fist stopped short of the dummy, now covered in blood. Glancing down at his scarred hands, Azriel saw that they were covered in the same deep red as the dummy. 

With a sigh, Azriel picked up more bandages and collapsed on a bench, wings slumping behind him. The gaze of Eris Vanserra burned into him and Azriel could do nothing to escape it. Despite being both taller and older than the High Lord, Azriel couldn't help but shrink under his gaze. 

“If you want to take your anger out on anything,” Eris began, his voice smooth and full of understanding. Azriel detested it. It hadn’t even been a full day since he nearly killed him. When Azriel looked at Eris’s neck, he could still see one of the scratches from where he clawed at his own throat. Eris continued to speak. “Take your anger out on me.”

“You think I haven’t been pretending that training dummy hasn’t been you this whole time?” Azriel remarked.

“Wouldn’t it be more satisfying if you were to hit the real thing? Well, if you are fast enough that is,” Eris said, a cocky grin stretching across his face. 

The blade in Eris’s hands shone brightly in the sun and it took everything in Azriel’s body not to move and snatch the blade out of his hands. Instead he opted for taking the blade Cassian usually used from where it was situated on the wall. Cassian’s blade felt wrong in his hand but Azriel didn’t demand to switch blades with Eris. 

“First to draw blood wins,” Azriel grumbled. 

“Boring,” Eris sighed. “Here I was ready to fight to the death and you simply suggest first to draw blood? Child’s play.”

Azriel ignored him before walking the other side of the training pitch. “Get in position–”

There was no time for Azriel to finish as Eris had already lunged at Azriel with the blade, his movements elegant and graceful. Far different from an Illyrian’s style of fighting. Azriel just managed to block it, metal clashing together. 

“You cheated,” Azriel said. 

Eris smirked. “I didn’t, you simply were not prepared.”

Azriel pushed back on his blade and put distance between himself and Eris. Azriel had never seen Eris in the midst of battle before, even when himself and the others had helped him take down his father, the killing blow to Beron was done behind closed doors. Eris stepped out carrying the head of his father. Azriel never thought he had it in him. 

“What is with this walking? Are you trying to determine which side I favour? Where my weak spots are?” Eris questioned, tossing the blade from one hand to the other with practised ease. That was when Azriel realised that he favoured no hand, the High Lord would be able to fight with either one just as well. 

“This is a fight not a discussion,” Azriel mumbled. 

“Then are you going to strike me? Or are we going to continue to circle one another like two animals ready to mate?” Eris teased, a glint of arrogance in his eyes. 

Azriel let out an animalistic growl and lunged forward. Eris deflected with ease. “You can do better than that, shadowsinger. You are not going to kill me. I was the general of the Autumn Court armies, I know how to take a beating.”

Every attack Azriel sent Eris’s way, he deflected it with ease, not even breaking a sweat. It bothered Azriel to no end as he began to get more and more worked up. Of course Eris is a much more graceful fighter than him. Y/N would be much more suited to someone with Eris’s particular style of fighting rather than Azriel’s. 

Eris tutted as he stretched his neck. “Getting tired already, Azriel. It’s a shame, I thought that the spymaster of the Night Court would have more stamina than this.”

Azriel had had enough of Eris’s taunts and threw his blade towards Eris. If the High Lord was fast enough, which Azriel knew that he was, he would dodge it with ease. However, when the blade sliced Eris’s cheek, Azriel panicked. 

The room was suddenly quiet and Eris’s head was turned away from Azriel. Despite his dislike towards Eris, Azriel had the urge to check if he was okay. He fought every instinct within himself to step closer to the High Lord. 

Suddenly, Eris laughed, his body slowly turning back to Azriel. There was blood flowing down his cheek but the cut was shallower than Azriel originally thought. In a few days it would be as if it never happened. “My, my, Azriel. You only said that it was first to draw blood.”

“It was,” Azriel muttered. “And I clearly beat you.”

“Only because I let you,” Eris replied, lifting his shirt up to wipe away the blood flowing down his face. 

Azriel’s eyes fell to where Eris’s torso was exposed. Although he was leaner than Azriel, Eris was still covered in firm muscle littered with faint, barely visible freckles. Though what Azriel noticed first was the thin scars covering his torso, a large one wrapping around his body towards his back. Eris’s shirt was quickly pulled down. 

“My eyes are up here, shadowsinger,” Eris said, his voice unusually firm. 

Azriel’s gaze returned to Eris’s, whose earlier cockiness had completely vanished. The cut across his cheek began to bleed once more, though there wasn’t nearly as much blood as before. 

“Now,” Eris said, “did that make you feel better?”

“Honestly,” Azriel said with a sigh, “no.”

Eris only nodded, the gleam of the scratches on his neck catching the light. Something about the two injuries upon Eris made Azriel feel guilty. Eris had done nothing in retaliation and had acted as an outlet to Azriel’s anger, without knowing what directly caused it. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t do more damage,” Eris remarked. 

Azriel was silent for a moment, contemplating his next words carefully. “Y/N wouldn’t want me to do that.”

There seemed to be no hint of surprise on Eris’s face that Azriel knew of their mating bond. He had already known. 

“I need to clean up before the meeting later and I suggest you do as well,” Eris said, turning his back to Azriel. 

Azriel looked at the blade and back to Eris. He hadn’t noticed before but the blade he had picked out was the one Azriel typically used in his right hand. Eris hadn’t moved it out of his left except when he taunted Azriel. Azriel’s gaze trailed down to the inkstain on Eris’s right hand, a clear indication of which had he preferred. The assumption Azriel had made was wrong. 

“You let me win,” Azriel muttered. 

“It took you long enough to catch on,” Eris replied, without turning around. “I favour my right hand but proceeded to use a blade made for your right hand in my left. My intention was never to win. You needed an outlet for your anger, so I gave you one. An angry male is a dangerous one– believe me when I say that.”

A heavy sigh slipped past Eris’s lips as he inclined his head towards Azriel, his eyes cast to the floor. “Y/N told me the details of the bargain the two of you made. We may not like one another Azriel, but do believe me when I tell you that I am sorry. I never wanted to get in the centre of what seemed like a wonderful relationship.”

Without another word, Eris swiftly left the room. Azriel remained in silence, watching where Eris had disappeared. The bastard had let him win. Eris allowed his body to be used as a punching back for Azriel’s anger– anger Eris already knew was directed at him. 

Not feeling up to training anymore, Azriel shot up in the sky and away from the House of Wind.

Taglist:

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[faithisyours]

Can’t Imagine Losing You

Azriel x Fem!reader

Summary: Azriel’s been acting moody lately, and you've had enough.

Warnings: ANGST! but also fluff. Smut, smut, SMUT! possessive Az, whimpering whiny Az, sort of a switch dynamic between the two, P in V, coming inside, oral both receiving, some ass stuff, i think that's it, not proof read

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Hey y’all! Sorry for being MIA. Here’s another fic as a peace offering. I wanted to try some angst so hopefully I did it right. This whole thing took so many turns. Hope it's comprehensible. If you have any requests for fics you'd like me to write, I'm all ears (i need ideas, please I’m begging). As always, minors go away. Majors, enjoy!

“I have some work I need to do at the House of Wind today. It shouldn't take long.”

You were sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast, enjoying the warm summer breeze coming in through the open window when Azriel informed you he had to leave. You were disappointed, but not at all surprised. It seemed like there was always something to do, some report needing finished or some training schedule needing tweaked. And it was always your mate who needed to do it, especially on his off days, it seemed.

“Can you stay for breakfast at least?” you asked, infusing your words with hope to mask the disappointment.

“I’m sorry, my love, I can’t. I’ll see you later.” He pressed a swift kiss to the top of your head before practically running out the door. There was no, “I’ll make it up to you later,” or, “How about breakfast tomorrow?” or even an, “I love you,” before he had disappeared.

Instances like this had been happening more frequently over the past couple years, but recently it had gotten out of hand for you. You had been mated to Azriel for over a century at this point, and had known each other far longer than that. You originally assumed that these instances were caused by Azriel being distracted by his work. Being the spymaster for the Night Court was a lot to manage. But more recently you had begun to wonder if the spark had dimmed for Azriel. If he had started to feel differently than he had when you two were first mated.

You decided that tonight you would bring up your concerns with him. You prayed to the Mother it was only because he was so busy and not because he had begun to feel differently about being mated to you. For now, though, you finished your breakfast, put away the extra food you had made for Azriel, and got ready for your day.

Since Azriel wasn’t going to be home until later, you figured you could get some errands done while he was away. Azriel had been running low on his sleep tonic for a while now, so you decided to stop by your favorite apothecary and pick him up another one. While you were out, you figured you could stop by the market and get some more wine to replenish the stash you and the other ladies of the Inner Circle had drained not too long ago. You also picked up some ingredients you would need for dinner tonight.

It was nearing noon when you decided to head back home, but as you were making your way back, you passed the shop you had gotten your favorite lingerie set from. It couldn’t hurt, you thought, to go in and look around. It had been a while since you got a new set, and you thought you should treat yourself. If you found something you liked, of course. And as soon as you walked in, a rich purple satin set caught your attention. It was perfect; simple yet sexy, and looked rather comfortable as well. It had criss-cross straps that circled around the back and waist, to connect to the bottoms, which were detailed with black lace on the hips. You didn’t have a purple set yet, and you thought maybe Azriel would like it too. Maybe if things went well tonight you would let him see it.

You made your way home, purchases in hand, including that satin set, and hoped by the time you got there that Azriel would be home. But he wasn’t. You entered an empty home, warm yet breezy from the window you had left open, and started unloading your purchases. You put the wine on the rack, the ingredients for dinner on the kitchen table, and Azriel’s sleep tonic on his bedside table. Lastly, you fished that purple satin set out of its bag and tried it on.

You didn’t bother trying it on in the store because you already knew your measurements and didn’t want to bother anyone anyway. Just like you suspected, it was incredibly comfortable, and it fit you like a glove. Exhaustion washed over you then, even though it was a little past noon. Going out to run errands always seemed to suck the energy right out of you.

You didn’t bother taking off the set, but instead rifled through Az’s shirt drawer to find your favorite one of his, a flowy black cotton button down, and threw it on. Even though Az wasn’t here right now, you still wanted to feel close to him, hence the shirt. You curled yourself up on his side of the bed, enveloped in the comfort of his scent, and closed your eyes. The last thought you had before falling asleep was hoping this whole thing was a misunderstanding.

–

You awoke to the sound of a door slamming. You sat up, wiped the sleep from your eyes, and made your way towards the kitchen, the most likely source of the noise. You saw Azriel, leaning over the kitchen sink looking out the window. You glanced at the clock above the hearth, noting you had been asleep for about 4 hours.

“Hey Az,” you said groggily, “Sorry I didn’t meet you at the door, I was taking a nap. Did you just get home?” you asked, walking closer to him. He gave you a grunt in response. You noticed his shadows swirling agitatedly around him, making you stop in your tracks. “Az, are you okay? Did something happen?” A million thoughts cycled through your head in seconds. Did something happen at work? Are Cassian and Rhys okay? Is he mad at you? Did you forget something he asked you to get at the market?

“I’m fine. I don’t want to talk about it.” His answers were clipped, monotone. “I'll be in our room.” he pushed off from the sink and brushed right past you, not even bothering to look you in the eye, give you a kiss, or look even the slightest bit apologetic for his attitude.

“I got you more sleeping tonic. It’s on your bedside table,” you informed him. You got a closing bedroom door in response.

You had a lot of patience. You prided yourself on the amount of patience you had. But it was warring paper thin for your mate. You decided to make dinner to take your mind off it, and to hopefully give him time to calm down. It’s not like he’d never been moody before, but this was a little much. He was starting to act like a teenage son, not your mate.

–

Thirty minutes later dinner was done and on the table. You went over to your bedroom door, still closed, and knocked, then poked your head in.

“Dinner is done. I made one of your favorites,” you informed Azriel, who was just walking out of the connected bathing room when you had poked your head in. He had changed into something more comfortable since the last time you saw him.

“Be right out,” he responded, glancing at you as he said it.

You walked back out to the kitchen table and began to load up both your plates with food. Azriel joined you just as you sat down. He immediately started eating, seemingly not concerned that the food was still hot enough to burn his mouth. And it looked like you would be carrying the conversation this evening.

“Was everything alright at the House of Wind today?” you pried, hoping the question came off as inconspicuous.

“Everything is fine. It’s handled now,” he offered, still shoveling food into his mouth.

“Alright. Good. I just wanted to -”

He cut you off. “Can we just eat in silence please? It's been a long day.” The words were stern, but his tone was soft, tired. You paused at his words, letting them sink in. Maybe this was just a bad day for him. Maybe he would be better tomorrow. Maybe this conversation should wait, if he’s pretty tired already. But how long had this gone on? How long have you wanted to say something about it?

“No,” you said simply. He paused, a fork-full stopped midway between his plate and mouth. Finally, he looked at you. “No, we’re not going to sit in silence. I have something I want to talk about. And I realize you may have had a shitty day, but I also had a day. I did things I want to talk with you about. I’ve wanted to have a conversation with you since this morning. So, no, actually. I’m not going to sit here in silence. Okay?” You stayed staring into his hazel eyes until you got a nod, but you wanted his answer in words. So you kept gazing into those hazel eyes until you got one.

“Okay. Alright,” he said, lowering his fork and pushing away from the table slightly, keeping his eyes on you. “What did you want to talk about, Love?”

His use of that endearment almost makes you reconsider this conversation. Almost. “I wanted to talk about your workload. And how it’s affecting me. And your treatment of me.” He only nodded, encouraging you to continue. “I feel like your workload doesn’t leave time for us anymore. It seems like the amount of stuff you have to do on a daily basis is way more than it used to be. You barely get any time off, and even on your days off you still have to do something. Like today. And I want to know if that’s how you feel, too.” You gave him time to consider.

He cleared his throat. “I like to stay busy. You know that. I haven’t noticed an increase in my duties, but even if there has been, I’m not sure if there is anything I could do about it. Everyone’s plate is already full. I can talk to Rhys about allocating jobs, but I can’t make any promises.”

You nodded, if only to give you something to do. That was not the answer you wanted to hear, but you could work with it. You wanted to broach your next point, but you were scared he wouldn’t take it well. You took a deep breath. “This… this leads me into my next point. I feel like…I feel as though you haven't been treating me how I want to be treated recently. Like sometimes I get my mate Az, and other days I get Azriel the shadowsinger. Or I get moody, likes-to-slam-doors Az who can’t bother to answer his mate in full sentences because he's too pissed off at something he doesn’t even want to tell me, his mate, who he should be able to tell everything to, even if it “doesn’t concern me.”” Your voice had started to rise, but you couldn’t help it. You were angry. “And this was why I wanted to talk about your workload. It feels like you’re getting upset more because you have more to do, which in turn makes you unintentionally take it out on me. you regard me as a permanent fixture in this house, but I am not. I will leave if I am not treated the way I deserve. And Gods, Azriel, I hope that this is the only reason, that it is only because of you working too much, because if it’s something else, if it has to do with your feelings towards me changing, I don’t…I don’t even…” you trailed off, holding back a sob that had started climbing your throat.

Azriel was now standing, making his way over to you. He knelt down right in front of you, taking your hand in his, his eyes, full of worry and confusion, searched yours for answers. “Okay, alright, you’re right. I have been acting like a jerk to you recently. And I’m so sorry for that. Truly. Work has been a lot to deal with recently, but that’s no excuse. I'll talk to Rhys about getting more time off. So I can spend it with you, alright? But how could you think my feelings have changed? How could you even think that?” His look was incredulous.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, or rather, tried to. “We’ve been mated for a century. A lot can happen in that amount of time. I thought maybe…maybe the spark was dimming for you. Maybe you changed your mind. About me. About us. And if you did, that would be alright. I would live with that, if it made you happy.” You work your confession out between sobs. “I just…I guess I just got scared. I don't want to lose you.”

His eyes were still on yours, but the emotion in them had shifted. Now they were full of anger. Not anger for you, but rather anger at himself. How could he treat you like this? In a way that made you think he did not love you anymore. He had failed, he realized. He was failing you, your relationship, your trust in him. He had to fix this, had to try harder. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said with conviction, no room left for argument. “I love you. So much. More now than I did a century ago. Every day I love you more. I didn’t even think that was possible, but with you it is. You’re not getting rid of me even if you wanted to, okay? I’m staying, and I’m going to try harder, get more days off, spend them all with you. You’re the love of my life, ya? Nothing will change that.” He pulled you into a hug, kissed away your tears, and kept kissing you until your cheeks were dry.

He kissed you one more time, hard, on the cheek, then went back to his side of the table and sat down. He thanked you for dinner, asked about your day, what all you did, and in turn told you what had happened at the House of Wind. Apparently one of the Illarian camps had started some fights with another camp over space and resources. Rhys had thought it was taken care of, but there was another fight today, which resulted in Azriel having to go over there, break it up, and be the peacekeeper longer than he wanted. Hence him coming home late and in a pissy mood.

“You’re wearing my shirt,” he stated, cutting off your story of you in the market today. It wasn’t a conscious thought to cut you off. He had only just now realized you were wearing his shirt, and basically nothing else. He had been so distracted by what had happened today and you bringing up your concerns that he hadn’t even noticed. Possession coiled in his stomach like a serpent strangling its prey. Seeing you in his clothes, even though it was a rare occurrence, always made him hard. He couldn’t help it. Your strong, soft body wrapped in his shirt, the sleeves rolled up to your elbows, exposing all that lickable skin. It made his knees buckle.

“Is that okay?” you asked tentatively. He was looking at you now like a starved man, which you knew he wasn't, given the finished plate of food before him. You rarely wore his clothes, mainly because you swam in them due to how big they were on you. You guessed he was just surprised to see you in something of his, but that didn’t explain the heat in his gaze. “I put it on after I got home from running errands. I wanted to take a nap and I figured you weren’t using it so…” you explained, trailing off.

“You’ve been wearing my shirt all day. Only my shirt.” It wasn’t a question. More like a repetition of the fact in order to understand. But it wasn’t just his shirt you were wearing. As he said it he noticed the purple strap poking out by your shoulder. A purple strap. You didn’t own any purple undergarments. “What is that?” he asked, his gaze burning a hole in your shoulder.

Before you could even answer him he said, “Purple. You don’t own anything purple.” His gaze was lighting you on fire, his eyes full of slow understanding, pupils blown wide with lust.

You got up from your chair, pushing your empty dinner plate slightly forward, and walked around the kitchen table to his side to stand right in front of him. “Well, while I was out,” you started, your voice low and seductive, “I passed by that shop, you know, the one I got that royal blue set from.” Azriel knew exactly what you were talking about. Remembered your squirming form underneath him while you were in that set. He was starting to feel lightheaded from how much of his blood had gone to his crotch. “And I figured it wouldn’t hurt to go in and see if they had anything as good as that royal blue set.” You were teasing him now, you knew it. But it was so fun, you couldn’t help yourself.

“Please, my love. Please let me see it. Let me see you,” he begged, winned. It was music to your ears. He was so hard it looked like it hurt. He had started slipping off his chair onto his knees in front of you, his scarred hands coming up to grip your hips. He was actually begging.

“You want to see it?” you taunted. He nodded, swallowing audibly. “Alright, but no touching. Not yet.” You pushed his hands off your hips, which was more difficult than you thought it would be, and began unbuttoning the shirt. Each button you worked to undo made Azriel’s breathing heavier, until he was practically panting. His hands were clenched so tightly at his sides you were sure his fingernails would leave marks on his palms.

You felt like a goddess; the man you adored more than anything knelt at your feet, completely enraptured by you, in awe of all you are. You reached the last button, undoing it achingly slowly, just to see your mate break out in a sweat. His hands were clenching his thighs hard enough to bruise, his chest heaved like a dying man, and the only thing shining in his eyes was need. Need for you, need to touch you, need to be buried in you until neither of you could tell where one ended and the next began. Azriel was a gentleman, but right now, here in front of you, he was the embodiment of pure animalistic lust. One word from you and he would snap. Just how you liked him.

You let the shirt part, giving him a nice view of the valley between your breasts, as well as the crossing straps and lower, to where those straps connected. You dragged one side of the shirt down off your shoulder, then repeated the movement on the other side. Finally, you let the shirt drop off of you, leaving you only in that purple set. You stepped closer to him, and caressed his face with your hand.

“Please.” It was barely a whisper, but you heard it, saw his lips part to form the word. His eyes were pleading with yours. He needed you. Now.

“Okay,” was all you said before he was on you, standing, gripping your hips, kissing you, running his hands over all that satin. He was everywhere all at once, biting your lips, coaxing moans from your throat, groaning over the feel of you, and you reveled in it all. His hands came around the back of your thighs, and suddenly you were being picked up and carried down the hall, towards your shared bedroom.

You were placed gently onto the bed, which was still rumpled from your nap earlier. Azriel leaned over you, taking you all in. “I love the purple, but I need you naked,” he said, peppering your jaw with kisses. You reached down to your hips and unhooked the straps from the panties. Azriel quickly figured out how to get your top off, and in a matter of seconds he was dragging the purple satin down your breasts just so his hands and lips could cover them again.

He took one of your nipples into his mouth, rolled the other between his fingers, and sucked and licked and pinched and bit till your chest was littered with marks from him. All the while, moans and whimpers poured out of you. Azriel reveled in the divine sounds you made, the sounds he made you make.

He made his way down your body, drawing closer and closer to where you needed him most.

“Please, baby. Please let me taste you,” he whispered, pleaded, begged. You gave him confirmation, that one word he needed to hear, then he was dragging those purple satin panties down your legs and throwing them across the room. He parted your legs, exposing your glistening core to him. The look in his eyes was that of absolute hunger. He didn’t bother with teasing you. He put his tongue right on your cunt, giving you no time to adjust or think before he licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit, spreading your arousal across his tongue.

You propped yourself up on your elbows so you could watch him; watch as he devoured you, drank from you, absolutely consumed you. He licked and sucked at your clit, brought it between his teeth, and eased the bite with more licks. Your head fell back as you moaned his name, lost in the pleasure he was giving you. Sooner than you even thought possible, you were on the edge of release, that coil in your belly drawing tighter and tighter. Without warning, Azriel slid a finger into you, curling it in a way that had you falling apart. He added a second, and it was your undoing.

You came with Azriel’s name on your lips. He worked you through your pleasure, continued to lick and suck till you were shaking from overstimulation. You pushed his head away, but he wouldn’t budge. He kept on licking you, drinking every drop of your release straight from the source. You were boneless, soar from overstimulation, but you could feel another orgasm rising within you.

Azriel moaned from the taste of you, the vibration making your hips buck. He continued to work his fingers into you, curling perfectly to reach that spot that made you scream. Profanities and pleads and promises poured from your mouth, but Azriel didn’t stop until you were coming again, on his fingers, on his face, on his tongue. Finally, after drinking every last drop of your essence, he worked his way back up to your mouth.

He kissed you until you came back to reality, until your limbs regained function. You kissed him back, moaning from the taste of yourself on his tongue. And then you were pushing him onto his back, straddling his hips to keep him there. He struggled a bit, pointing to his pinned wings, but you only smiled at him. “Is the Illarian baby pinned?” you taunted him. He stopped struggling, but instead glared at you. So you dragged a finger down one of the veins in his wings, and a moan slipped past his lips.

“That's what I thought,” you muttered. He was still fully clothed, and the contrast of your nakedness only spurred you on further. You kissed him, long and deep and unhurried, while you unbuttoned the length of his shirt. He broke the kiss to shed his shirt, so you turned your attention to unlacing his pants. While you worked, he kissed and nipped your neck, working marks into your soft flesh. You worked his pants down his legs, aided with Azriel’s help, and eventually he was naked underneath you.

You pressed him down to lay flat on the bed, then started your journey down towards his hard length. As you worked your way down, you liked and sucked and bit until his skin was littered with marks, just like yours was. You scraped your nails down his arms, down his sides, till he was shivering from your touch.

Kneeling now between his legs, guided a hand towards his length while you kissed his hips and rolled the skin between your teeth. His hips bucked at the fist fell of your hands on him, which made you smile. “So responsive,” you purred, then licked him from base to tip. He let out a moan that had your thighs rubbing together. With your tongue, you licked up the bead of precum that had frond, then promptly took as much of him into your mouth as you could.

Azriel speared his fingers through your hair, not to control your head but to steady himself. Your mouth was a dream to him; warm and wet and perfect. Second best only to your cunt. You hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper and deeper into your mouth until he was hitting the back of your throat. Az was panting at this point, his skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Your mouth felt so good, but he needed to be inside you.

“I’m gonna…please…I need to be inside you,” he panted out. You pulled your mouth off him with a pop, then gave him one last lick before you climbed your way back up to him. You kissed him, mainly just so he could taste himself on you. Then you positioned your hips just above his, readying yourself to sink onto his length.

Using his hand, he parted you, spreading your slick on you and on his hand. He eased you onto his cock slowly, letting you adjust to him. Every time you took him, it was an adjustment. You hoped that would never change. You both made an obscene noise when he was finally, completely in you.

“You want to be filled, baby?” he asked as he ran the fingers he had parted you with down between your ass cheeks. Yes, you wanted to be full of him, wanted to be overwhelmed by him, wanted to feel him everywhere. You nodded. “Words, love,” he chided softly.

“Yes, please Az,” you wined. That was all you had to say before he worked his fingers into you, using your slick on his fingers as lube. He gripped your hips with the rest of that hand and the other, a bruising grip that was sure to leave bruises.

Azriel was sitting up slightly now, and even though you were on top of him, he set the pace. Slow rolls of your hips guided by his hands started you off. All you could think about was how full of him you were, how overwhelming the feeling of him everywhere was. Your pace quickens, spurred on by your whimpers and his moans. Your eyes were locked with eachothers, and within Azriel’s you saw his bottomless pool of love for you. His pupils were blown wide, and so were yours.

You kissed him, hard, and he returned it even harder. You’re moaning into eachothers mouths, the only goal being to guide each other to your peaks. You could feel that ache building, that need for release drawing closer and closer. Azriel could feel it too, reveling in the way your walls gripped him. He shifted his free hand around to play with your clit, and then you were coming, harder than you had in a while, cresting on a silent scream.

Azriel was right behind you, fucking sloppily into you until you were gripping him so tightly he could barely move. He came, chanting your name like a prayer, until his voice went hoarse.

You both laid there, panting and boneless, for minutes or hours or days, you couldn't tell. Eventually he guided you off of him, pulling out of you with a hiss, to lay you next to him. He gave you a kiss on the cheek before getting up to go to the bathing room. You heard the sound of water rushing into the tub, and in the next minute Azriel came back in, picked you up bridal style, and whisked you into the bathing room.

He set you down gently into the warm water then joined you, settling in right behind you. He pulled you back so your back was against his chest, then proceeded to wash you with a soapy cloth. When he was done you returned the favor, batting his hand away when he tried to protest. You finished up in the bath, dried each other off, then slipped into some sleeping clothes and then bed.

“We’re okay, right?” he asked, pulling you closer to him. Your heart melted, warmed by the idea that he wanted to make sure.

Yes, Az. We’re all good,” you replied, giving him a kiss on the nose.

“Okay. good,” was all he said before he tucked you tighter into him and you both fell asleep.

[viridescentelf]

Yeah uhh can you make yandere fae and yn female nsfw??

hiii! :) i wasn't too sure what you meant by "fae", but i just made him an elf with wings haha.

Warning: 18+, nsfw, non-con, touching in sleep, obsessive behavior

-----

You were wandering through the forest as a sunset slowly formed. The orange rays enveloped the trees with a sense of wonder, the small specks of dust and flower seeds snowing in the light.

You loved coming here at this time of day, sometimes you got lucky and met fascinating creatures. More often than you’d like to admit, you were unlucky and had to run like a maniac back home to avoid the clutching fangs of an angry predator.  

Not knowing what today’s excursion would bring, you trailed through your usual route, foraging some mushrooms and fruits you found along the way. It was fun to experiment with new ingredients you discovered here. Although you had regretted finding that green looking one a while back. It had made you convulse and hallucinate all night long.

Sliding down by the roots of the big tree you visited often, you examined your findings. What a lucky harvest this was: so many precious berries and meaty shrooms. You couldn’t wait to test them out. Listening to the gentle whistle of the wind through the large trees, you felt your body yearn for a brief respite. You had been hiking for hours today and with more vigor than your previous visits. You had barely slept the night before, so your body was exhausted. A short nap would help you get back home safely. Surely this area was safe enough.

Burying yourself in your coat and leaning back against the mossy trunk, you felt yourself slowly drift away into the kind embrace of sleep. The air in this forest was odd, as if weaved with sprites of calm or surrounding by a strange bubble that made everything feel so breezy. The soft wind bristled across your face, providing the comfort of coldness.

You didn’t know it, but you were always followed when you entered the woods. Not just by predators or curious little animals, but by something you only believed existed in old tales. He had been watching you behind a nearby tree, blushing excessively when you bent over to pick up any items you were collecting.

He had discovered you a while back, while he was attending to a group of withered trees that cried for attention. His ears had picked up on something stumbling. As he turned, he saw you had plopped over a large root, the interior of your little basket had spilled on the ground and you were carefully picking your findings back up. His keen fae eyes could see quite a long way, but even from the distance he was completely enamored with you. He had tolerated humans walking around this forest for eons: he loved scaring them when they were being disrespectful. But you…the way your face lit up when you found something that sparked your interest. You were the first visitor to make his nascent wings jitter.

You were asleep. This hadn’t happened before. He was normally so distraught when he saw you make your way home, not being able to follow you further. He needed to stay in his realm and couldn’t enter yours.

He felt his body move closer towards you. He needed to look at you up close, a chance he may never get again. The fae had never interacted with a human before, unless it was to taunt them out of his home. Your bodies were much different from his kinds, it was truly a marvel to him.

Your face was tilted slightly to the side, breathing deeply in and out, your arms hanging loosely in your lap. He crouched down and stared at you, examining your features. How glorious your face was, so different from his. The glittering lips seemed to call him forward. He hadn’t seen a human like you before. Normally, they disgusted him. You made him feel dizzy.

With a shaky hand, he stretched his arm towards you, gently brushing your cheek. Your skin was so soft and chilled due to the evening air. You were completely still, the rest direly needed, except the gently lifting of your chest as you breathed in and out. His eyes wandered down to your neck, rippling down to your slow-moving breasts that created little mountains in your coat.

Without thinking, the hand on your cheek drifted down your neck and glided over the peaks on your chest. Noticing you didn’t seem to feel his touch in your slumber, he dared to squeeze slightly. His body felt hot, how soft they were. His other hand joined and cupped your other breast, pushing them together. He clasped them a bit harder, letting out involuntary raspy moans at how amazing this felt. He wanted to see what they felt like without your garment, but he was too afraid you’d wake and run if he attempted to remove it. You let out a soft, breathy, moan at his touch, but remained still. His body was shaking, wanting to relieve himself all over you.

Still squishing your breasts intensely in his hands, he rocked himself forward. His face was now so close to yours and he inhaled your unique scent. You smelled so amazing; it made him want to taste you. He felt your calm breath on his ethereal skin, it made his wings flutter in anticipation. Did you have body parts for pleasure? Was that something he could even do with you?

He was so close; his breath was intermingling with yours. One more short movement and he would taste you.

His lips grazed yours. He felt his lower half explode with excitement.

Your eyes were fluttering and panic joined in with his pleasure. You stirred. Your eyes barely opened and you saw a divine visage before you, bright and starry eyes peering into yours. Before you could fully open them and decide if this was still a dream or reality, the fae had fled. Flying frantically through the dense foliage, he settled on a high branch obscured by the fading light and dark branches, still able to see you from afar. Did you see him? Did he scare you?

You rubbed your eyes and looked around you. There was no sign of anyone. You let out a big yawn and decided that you probably hadn’t finished dreaming yet, seeing that beautiful face before you.

Standing up and brushing the dirt off your backside, you picked up your basket and satchel to make your way home.

The fae’s breath halted seeing you leave. He wanted you to stay. He had been so close to tasting you, he would never get that chance again.

He looked around frantically. What could he do to prevent you from leaving?

You were walking swiftly. The sun was almost completely gone and you didn’t want to be in the woods at night. Folk warned that the faeries would get you, perhaps an old wives’ tale, but you never knew. Plus, there were predators here anyway.

Suddenly, you heard a crash and a whimper. Turning to the noise, you thought you saw large, translucent wings, flapping weakly behind a bush. The sounds seemed pitiful. Hurt.

You approached carefully and pushed the branches aside.

Before you, lay a creature you had only seen illustrated in fantasy novels.

He looked up at you, unable to stop his face from blushing again, pretending to have hurt himself from a fall.

This plan had to work.

[lackinggravitas]

NEW CHAPTER JUMPSCARE betcha didn't expect me to get another one done so soon, eh? hehehehe....

its stan's turn to be the pov >:) (for the majority of this anyway)

part 1 / part 2 / part 3(you are here!)/ part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / tbc...

ao3 vers

For the record, Stan was actually gonna feel real bad when he had to ditch the new Guy. 

It’s not the Guy’s fault, really. Stan actually liked him, but Stan’s Sixer came first. Maybe once Stan found Sixer, they could go back and visit the new Pal. If Sixer was okay with that.

He’d lost Sixer, or maybe Sixer had lost him, a long time ago. Stan couldn’t remember much of it - a blur of gasoline-smell and voices and a hand gripping his arm. Shooting pain, stabbing hunger. Then freedom - wind in his hair, sun on his skin. Still hungry, still hurt. Then crowds of People. Them averting their eyes, hands covering their ears. Yelling at him, voices rising. Everyone looking, no one helping. Ignoring him. They wouldn’t, didn’t help him.

Then Mam. She found him in the alley he’d laid down to die in, took him in like a lost pup returned home. She cleaned him and she fed him, and she taught him everything. How to howl and how to hunt, how to communicate, how to live. She’d treated him like one of her own easily, like he always had been. Faced with her or Them, it had been an easy choice - he’d chosen her.

Stan hadn’t looked back after that, but he’d never forgotten Sixer. His littermate. Stan couldn’t remember much, it was all a muddy haze before and after Them, but he remembered Sixer’s hand in his paw, how they’d fit together perfectly. A pack of two. 

Stan had clung to his Mam for a long time, staying even when her other pups grew up and moved on. New pups were born, they left, seasons went on and on and Stan got bigger and bigger, furrier and furrier, but he never left his Mam. He was clingy, he supposed. She hadn’t minded.

He didn’t know if he would have ever left her side if she hadn’t gotten sick.

It was just the two of them, Stan feeding her scraps of stolen People food and lying with her as she wheezed in her sleep. He’d laid with her until she went cold, and never got up again. Dead. He’d laid there for a long time after that too, couldn’t bring himself to move until the ache in his muscles and his stomach overwhelmed even grief. 

Then he’d picked himself up and left. He didn’t look back - he never looked back. (What good had looking back ever done him?) 

It was time to look for Sixer.

He wandered for a long time. Stan didn’t really know where he was anymore, but he figured he had to be getting close to Sixer. He was looking for the ocean, because the ocean meant Home and Home meant Sixer, and Stan had to find Sixer. 

Times and places blurred together. He’d been drawn to this place, this forest of ancient pine trees that scraped against the tough hide of the sky, but now that he was here he didn’t know why. He couldn’t hear or smell the ocean, just pine needles. This place was too light and breezy to be Home. Home was supposed to be oppressive and heavy and loud and crowded, it was supposed to smell like smoke and ocean. This place… didn’t. This place didn’t seem like where Sixer was.

But Stan had been tired from traveling so far, and he’d fallen in with the local bachelor group pretty well. Just him and a pack of guys, hunting weird birds and rabbits, having stuff thrown at them by the People, digging through the trash, singing at the moon together, all the good shit. It was the life, really. 

Those packs never really lasted long, of course, but they were always nice while they were around. Stan wasn’t much of ladies’ man - he always made himself scarce when that season rolled around, not willing to get into fights with other guys over girls he didn’t want.

When Stan wasn’t running with a group of bachelors he was alone, and if there was one thing Stan hated, it was being alone.

Alone was a cold ache inside and out. Alone was no one to turn to and no one to lean on, no one to lick the blood off his face when he ate messily and no one to sleep flank to flank with, keeping each other warm when the rest of the world was cold. 

Stan hadn't had a permanent pack since his Mam, and that was… a while ago. Before the pine trees and before he started wandering in earnest again, at least. 

Well, he had his Pal now. Stan had never really thought of himself as the kind of scrap-begging idiot to hang around with a Person, but his Pal seemed a different sort. He’d given Stan food, freed him from a trap, invited him into his den, healed his throat with his weird plant salve goop - hell, he’d even cleaned and groomed Stan! No one had done that that thoroughly for ages! And he’d done a damn good job of it too - Stan couldn’t remember the last time his fur had felt so free and loose.

He made Stan feel safe and warm inside in a way no one had since his Mam, or Sixer. Stan couldn’t stop petting his own fur, admiring how smooth and soft it felt. Damn, his Pal was good at this. Not even Mam had had this kind of skill - Stan didn’t even feel itchy anywhere anymore. When was the last time that had been true?

He even let Stan on his nest. Stan was lying there right now, marveling at how soft it was. No wonder People were so territorial if this is what they had to protect - Stan would be too if he had a nest like this! (He wished he could have given his Mam something like this)

This Guy was the best. Stan wasn’t gonna enjoy leaving him.

Or, he wouldn’t, if his Pal wasn’t acting like this.

Stan was just enjoying how soft the nest was, and how soft his fur was, and how warm and content he felt on the inside, as his Pal stalked around like a caged animal, in tight, agitated walking circles. His Pal was yapping again, as he did very often, and as usual Stan understood absolutely none of it.

This Guy was seriously chattier than a puppy, and Stan had been around a lot of puppies. Must have liked the sound of his own bark - Stan had to give it to him, it was pretty deep and soothing. Stan really liked listening to the Guy, when it wasn’t obviously a paranoid, panicked chitter like this one was.

Stan whined at him for the umpteenth time to knock it off, and for the umpteenth got nothing. Just a glance in his direction, then away again, like Stan never made any noise in the first place. His Pal was wringing and flapping his hands in the air, voice rising and falling sharply, like tumultuous waves, not stopping for anything.

Stan wanted to comfort the poor Guy, but he had no idea what the problem even was. He’d been like this since he’d bathed Stan in the water, and for the life of him Stan couldn’t parse what the problem could even be. They were safe, well-fed and comfortable - this Guy's den was huge, and surprisingly undisputed territory. There were literally no problems.

Normally Stan would just assume he was the problem, but he couldn’t think of anything he’d done that would warrant this. Sure, there’d been that slip up earlier, where Stan got too excited to play in the water and accidentally made his Pal upset for some reason, but Stan was pretty sure that had been forgiven. Other than that, Stan had done practically nothing that would have caused this.

And if it wasn’t because of survival, and it wasn’t because of Stan, then what else could the problem be? 

Then his Pal started twisted his hands into his own hair, and then started pulling, and that’s when Stan had to jump in. 

Stan had seen guys hurt themselves before, and it never meant anything good. He growled, then let out one, sharp warning bark. His Pal stopped his tracks, staring at him wide-eyed. 

Still growling, Stan climbed out of the nest with a thump (who puts a nest on elevated ground?) and stalked over to the Guy. He sat up on his haunches, caught the hanging flap of limp faux-fur-that-People-wore on his Pal’s arm, and bit. 

His Pal yelped, but Stan knew it was out of surprise, not anger. Keeping up the background of growling so his Pal knew he was serious, Stan pulled him towards the nest, practically dragging him like a misbehaving pup. 

The Guy tried struggling, but Stan had done this all before. He was well-trained in the art of dealing with troublesome youngsters, and while Stan loved the Guy, his Pal sure was acting like one now. It wasn’t a big deal - he was lucky he had Stan, because Stan knew just the cure for this kind of thing.

Getting the Guy in the nest was something of a struggle, with how high the stupid thing was off the ground (seriously, why?), but Stan managed eventually. 

His Pal finally relented, sitting down on the nest with a huff. Then Stan snagged him by the nape (gently, he knew how sharp his own teeth were) and pulled him down, and the Guy started struggling anew, yipping and yapping all offendedly. Stan just ignored him, flopping on top of him to make sure he didn’t try to escape. There. Now, naptime. His Pal could sleep off whatever fit he was having, and Stan would get some shut-eye too. Win-win scenario.

The Guy was still wiggling and complaining though, so Stan hoisted himself up and started cleaning his face, because if he wanted to act like a baby then he was getting the baby treatment. 

This just made his Pal struggle more, but that was fine. Stan had helped pup-sit plenty in his life, he knew how this went. Give the Guy a bit and he’ll accept his fate.

Actually, his Pal was now actively trying to push him off, and because he was a grown Person and not a misbehaving pup he might actually be able to do it. Stan huffed, pulling off the Guy’s face to flop down, putting even more of his weight on to the Guy’s middle. If he didn’t want a bath then fine, but Stan still wasn’t going anywhere until his Pal had calmed down enough for him to consider letting him loose. He was on timeout. 

His Pal seemed to begrudgingly accept this, dropping his arms on the bed defeatedly. Stan stretched leisurely, feeling proud of himself. He still had it. 

For a Person, Stan’s new Pal wasn’t that bad. Definitely a hassle, but a good hassle. The kind of hassle you wanted to have. The kind of hassle that cleaned you and gave you food and let you sit in their nest and made you feel at home for the first in- in a long while. Stan huffed softly, wiggling into a comfortable spot. Cheek resting on his Pal’s chest.

Stan couldn’t deny that he was getting attached. Maybe it wasn’t good survival instinct or whatever, but he hadn’t felt this cared for since his Mam… since Stan was barely out of puppyhood himself. 

Stan hadn’t been able to help but notice that this Guy’s den held only evidence of single occupancy. Stan didn’t know how a guy with this much territory could possibly be alone, but Stan wondered if- well.

It was just that Stan knew what it was like to not fit in with anyone, was all. 

Stan wasn’t a very good coyote. His eyesight was complete shit, and he was too awkward to hunt, more of a scavenger. Stan knew his only strong quality was that he was big. His teeth were blunt and his claws were dull and short, but he was easily large enough to grapple, to hold down for the others. He’d accepted that if he was good for anything, it was to try and protect. And Stan didn’t mind that - it was a stressful job, sure, but he was alright at it, and it made him feel good to be able to help in that way. 

And maybe Stan couldn’t see the Guy all that well, but he knew that his new Pal would need some protecting. It was hard to be a loner, Stan knew that very well. It was a toll, both physical and mental. A pack was better, a pack was safe and good, and his Pal seemed to have been alone for a very long time. Kinda like Stan.

Stan knew that his pal-group of locals in the woods would be fine without him. This Guy, though? He needed Stan. And damn, but wasn’t that a good feeling. To be needed. 

Stan sighed, getting comfortable on top of his Pal. The warm, solid weight of another was a bone-deep comfort, seeping warmth done to his marrow. Stan could protect this Guy. He could keep him company, help him lick his wounds, like his Pal had had for him. Maybe Stan could even dig around for some People food for them in some bin somewhere. They could be a pack, a real pack, the kind Stan hadn’t had since his Mam.

At least for a little. For now. 

Stan had a Sixer to go back to eventually, after all. 

Ford laid awake for a long time, idly petting Remus’ hair as he stared up at the ceiling, just thinking. He had a lot of time to think, and slowly his mind was starting to come together, coagulating into something of a plan. Somehow, lying down actually seemed to do more good than pacing, which was odd. Pacing was his usual trick. Perhaps this had something to do with the release of endorphins into the brain stream, facilitating a smoother thought process. 

But he could still feel Remus’ saliva drying on his face, and effective or not, coyote-man or not, Ford didn’t appreciate the impromptu tongue bath. He wasn’t exactly sure why Remus had done that - was it some coyote thing? Licking another into submission?

Ford sighed, putting a hand on Remus’ shoulder to carefully slid him off. The creature had dozed off half on top of Ford, and Ford had waited until he was well and truly asleep to make an escape. He hadn’t wanted to deal with Remus’ method to get him into bed the second time. 

His feet touched the ground softly, and he carefully slipped off the bed, letting out a sigh of relief when Remus didn’t stir as the mattress shifted then settled beneath him again. Ford watched him for a moment, his freshly cleaned and dried hair fanned out on the sheets, mouth open and snoring, faintly drooling onto the blankets. Stan used to-

Ford forced himself to turn away. He crept into the hall, keeping his steps quiet as he shut the door softly behind himself and snuck down the hall, wincing every time his foot hit a creaky board. He stopped each time, waiting for Remus to come bounding him over to him - but nothing. It seemed the creature truly was out cold. Must have been a deep sleeper, just like Stanley.

Finally he made it to the rotary phone. He reached out to grab it - before hesitating, hand hanging like a curse in the air just inches away from it.

The numbers stared up at him almost jeeringly. The faint dust on the phone seemed to mock him. He hadn’t used this phone often at all - he had no one to call. 

He glanced back down the hall, where his bedroom was. The door was firmly shut, he knew, and he could see Remus in his mind’s eye, sleeping peacefully, innocently unaware of the storm he’d unleashed upon Ford’s psyche just hours before. Ford sighed and punched in the ten numbers he knew from memory. 

It rang once, twice, before it connected.

“Pines Pawns and Phone Psychic, this is Caryn Pines speaking.” His mother’s gruff voice came through the phone.

Ford kept his voice level, firm. “Ma-” 

“Stanford? Is that you?” Caryn interrupted, sounding shocked. His mother’s voice turned scolding, and Ford tried not to let himself get too annoyed. “Stanford Pines! Do you know how long it’s been since you last called?”

“I’ve been very busy-” Ford tried, pinching the bridge of his nose to hold back the oncoming headache he could feel encroaching. He had a job to do.

“Two fucking years!” Caryn continued as if Ford hadn’t even spoken. “It takes my son two years to call me - you had me worried sick, havin’ no idea what was goin’ on with you! How hard is it to pick up a phone and call yer own Ma once and awhile?”

“Ma-”

“I spent eighteen years raising you an’ nine hours pushin’ you outta me, and this is the thanks I get?” Caryn huffed, aggravated. She was working herself into a rant again, one Ford really didn’t want to hear. “Yer just lucky I couldn’t get into a car and drive up to Oregon myself, or you woulda had hell for making me worry so much, boy-”

“Ma!” Ford barked, cutting her off with perhaps a bit more sharpness than he would have liked. He sighed, leashing his tone again, returning to a firm, collected levelness. “I’m afraid this isn’t a social call-”

“Oh, so you only call yer Ma fer money now?” Caryn butt in, already sounding disapproving.

“I don’t need money,” Ford snapped impatiently. “I need you to send me Stanley’s teeth.” 

Caryn was actually shocked into silence for a moment - a truly impressive feat. “...pardon?” 

@artistredfox @m0rkl @thesnakelord @littlelilliana15 @darsbw

[rabioa]

Late Night Air

Azul x Reader - Fluff - Gender Neutral

Its a relatively warm night, so you go out and enjoy the crisp air. Your boyfriend, Azul, joins you. Bathing in the silence together is more than enough for the two of you.

TW: Nothing

This is very self indulgent after I stood outside at 1AM during a really nice warm night. It was chilly but sooo relaxing and quiet. If you get the chance to chill during a nice night, do it, why not? Look at the stars. Enjoy the peace. I suggest listening to this playlist while you read, or if you choose to stay out in a warm night.

The air was breezy and warm. The moon hung overhead, glowing with soft comfort as you watched from the balcony. The stars twinkled with constellations different from your home world. Even so, it was still beautiful, lulling you into a calm.

It was the perfect night weather, with warm air chilled by a cool breeze, creating a peaceful tingle against your skin. The Mostro Lounge was quiet during these late nights. In theory, you should be cozy in bed, snuggled up against Azul as you slept, but life wasn't theory; It was practice.

The glass door behind you quietly opened but you didn't bother to turn around, instead opting to continue gazing at the distant stars.

"Are you alright, darling?" Azul asked, mildly concerned and still half asleep as he joined you, leaning against the rail.

"Yeah, just enjoying the night," You assured him with a soft smile. "It's such a lovely night. I'll go in, in a bit. I just wanna take a moment to appreciate this moment," You elaborated, turning to face him.

He admired your face, the way your eyes reflected the stars. He wanted to know everything about you. He wanted to hear about the stars from your home, the small habits you keep hidden from all but yourself, and everything that brings you joy. He sighed lightly, returning your smile. His exploration would wait for a different day. He recognized the serene silence the night brought, best accompanied only by the sound of wind and crickets.

He shrugged off his robe, draping it over your shoulders. The fabric was silky and luxurious, still warm from his sleep. The night was cool and refreshing, but there was a sense of comfort and ease that his warmth brought.

You both stood there, watching the stars and each other for longer than you should. You both had classes tomorrow, alongside working the Mostro Lounge. For now, tomorrow would have to wait. This peace comes first, this quiet.

It's only after the breeze picked up further, creating a more chilly than cool air, that you both silently agreed to retire for the night.

In bed you both snuggled into each other, claiming the now cold sheets with new warmth. Your fingers intertwined, breaths soft and even, both of you lulling off to sleep, content and fulfilled.

[arcadia-smith]

TW:abuse, torture, SA.

Find Part 1 here

Simon Riley x Reader

The Interpreter's Prayer

Part 2

***

It was one of those fleeting weekends, the kind that felt stolen from time itself- where the demands of work fell silent, and the weather conspired just enough to lure you outdoors.

You and Simon, untethered from duty, had decided to take Mia to the playground, her laughter ringing out like tiny chimes against the backdrop of a breezy afternoon.

"I don't know, Simon," you murmured, exhaling a sigh that felt heavier than the wind brushing past your cheeks. Your fingers swept stray strands of hair from your face as your gaze lingered on Mia, her small figure darting through the jungle gym. "The field isn’t my place. I’m an interpreter, not a soldier."

Simon’s response was as steady as the earth beneath your feet. “You’ve passed every physical and psychological test the sergeants have thrown at you,” he said, his tone calm but firm. “And if I’m being honest, you shoot better than half of them.”

A soft laugh escaped your lips, a mixture of disbelief and reluctant amusement. “Why me, Simon? Why do you need me for this?”

He turned to you, his eyes steady, carrying the weight of unspoken truths. “Because you speak Arabic. Because you wear a woman’s face.” His voice was measured but edged with quiet urgency. “And because Basma will only trust us if she sees someone like you. It’s a simple job—quick, clean. In and out. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Your brow furrowed, doubt threading through your voice. “And what about Mia? My mum’s all the way in London, and I can’t ask her to drop everything.”

Simon reached for your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours, a silent anchor amidst the storm of your thoughts. “Johnny’s already agreed. He’ll take care of her. Three days- no more. I swear I’ll bring you back without so much as a scratch.”

He paused, his lips curving into a small, hopeful smile. “And maybe, after this, we can revisit that conversation about giving Mia a little sibling?”

You scoffed, shaking your head, though the faintest hint of a smile tugged at your lips. Before you could form a reply, Mia’s voice rang out, bright and insistent.

“Daddy! Come push me on the swing!”

She bounded toward Simon, her tiny hand clasping his with the determination only a five-year-old could muster. With a soft chuckle, he let her lead him away, leaving you on the bench, the echo of their laughter swirling in the air.

Your heart wavered, caught between the unease of his request and the quiet confidence in his promise. You weren’t thrilled by the thought of stepping into the field, but you understood why he had asked. And despite your fears, you trusted Simon’s word- that you’d return home, unscathed, to the sanctuary of your daughter’s laughter and his steadfast embrace.

***

Darkness greeted you like an old enemy.

Your consciousness returned in fragments, each shard bringing new pain, your head a symphony of dull aches and dried blood turned to rust in your hair.

Movement became a study in agony — every muscle a testament to violence. The chain around your ankle sang cold songs against your skin as it trapped you in this tomb of shadows.

Awareness crept in slowly, like poison through veins: the chill air kissing bare skin, your clothes stripped away like dignity, leaving you vulnerable in cotton basics that offered no armor against the world.

Pain bloomed like dark flowers across your body — legs, arms, stomach. And deeper still, where violation lived like a curse.

The cold floor became your sanctuary as you curled inward, knees drawing close like a child seeking comfort in the womb.

Time lost meaning in the darkness, minutes or hours flowing past like black water while you lay there, a comma in death's sentence.

Tears gathered like morning dew, but pride held them prisoner. You wouldn't give them the satisfaction of salt tracks on your cheeks.

Anger rose like a tide — at Simon, whose faith in you had become a betrayal, whose love had led you from safety into nightmare. At the men who'd written their cruelty on your flesh in bruises and blood.

Then Basma's face floated through your mind like a ghost, followed by her children — and Noor, sweet Noor, whose tears had been the last light you'd seen before darkness claimed you.

The voices outside grew like thunder clouds, Arabic words seeping through walls "If she's awake, we'll make her speak."

Then another voice, smooth as silk hiding steel "I need to find my wife. That's all I care about. Do what you want with the foreign woman." Nasir — a man whose name tasted like ash and endings.

Light invaded like a blade, carving through darkness to blind you. In the doorway, a silhouette became a man whose eyes held all the warmth of winter frost, his satisfaction curved like a scythe across his face.

"Little hero awake." His words stumbled from his tongue, broken English sharp as shattered glass.

His gaze crawled across your skin like insects, his tongue darting out — a snake tasting fear in the air. He moved with the terrible patience of a predator who knows its prey is trapped, fingers suddenly tangling in your hair like thorns. Your head snapped back, neck exposed to the cold air. His other hand found your face, fingers tracing your features like a sculptor modeling clay, but there was nothing of art in his touch — only ownership and cruel intent.

"It will be more fun while you're awake." Each word fell like acid rain, promising storms to come.

Pain bloomed as he yanked you upward, your gasp a butterfly breaking free against your will.

"Tell me where that traitor wife is and I might not hurt your pretty face more than I already have." His words slithered through the air as his fingers found your throat, a collar of cruelty tightening with each breath.

Your defiant silence painted rage across his features. He threw you down like a discarded doll, but his anger transformed into something worse — a terrible pleasure that turned his mouth cruel.

He descended like a shadow, dragging you closer by your chained ankle. You fought with all the fury of a caged storm, legs kicking, but his strength overwhelmed yours like darkness swallowing light. His weight pressed you into the cold floor, a mountain you couldn't move.

Tears you held hidden now broke free, a loud scream of pain as you tried to claw at man's shoulders. To push him away, yet he seemed immune to your struggles.

Closing your eyes you drifted off. To thoughts of Simon and Mia. And a sunny day at the park. Far away from here.

The chill on bare skin once more returned. You were left raw and exposed.

Part 3

[adventuresofalgy]

The weather in the wild west Highlands of Scotland was feeling a wee bit unstable and agitated… and so were the local birds, for there was much twittering and excitement in the bushes and trees. Even though it was really not the slightest bit warm, there was a definite change in the air, and a new brighter, stronger light that heralded spring…

In the past couple of days Algy's wee feathered friends around the garden had all begun to chirrup and sing, each according to their manner, and he was especially thrilled to hear the characteristic tones of the song thrush rising above the rest. It was a sound he awaited eagerly in the early months of every year, and greeted with glee.

Although it was still breezy, it was nothing like as windy as it had been during the past week, so Algy decided to take a wee rest, so that he could listen attentively to all his bird friends. Finding himself a comfortable couch on the soft branches of a small stand of cypress, Algy leaned back and relaxed, rocking to and fro gently in the much-reduced wind, listening, and thinking:

Sing on, sweet thrush, upon the leafless bough, Sing on, sweet bird, I listen to thy strain, See aged Winter, 'mid his surly reign, At thy blythe carol, clears his furrowed brow. Thus in bleak Poverty's dominion drear, Sits meek Content with light, unanxious heart; Welcomes the rapid moments, bids them part, Nor asks if they bring ought to hope or fear. I thank thee, Author of this opening day! Thou whose bright sun now gilds yon orient skies! Riches denied, thy boon was purer joys - What wealth could never give nor take away! But come, thou child of poverty and care, The mite high heav'n bestow'd, that mite with thee I'll share.

[Algy is thinking of the poem Sonnet on Hearing a Thrush Sing by the 18th century Scottish poet Robert Burns.]

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Kinktober Special Part 2

Mo’s Kinktober Special

The Crew’s Whore (Part 2) (+18)

Summary: You are the former owner of the Grand Line’s most popular brothel. Your power fighting abilities got the attention of the captain of the Straw Hat Pirates. He had asked you to join their crew but what would you bring to the team? Your battle skills were hardly comparable to many of the other Straw Hats… but you actually had a great skill. Your years working as a high end escort had prepared you to become the private plaything for this pirate crew. You joined the Straw Hats as their personal sex toy. 

Pairing: Franky x afab!reader

WC: 3100 I'm so sorry

TW: IS THIS A SAFE SPACE?!?! Banging a robot, alcohol consumption oral sex (m receiving), vaginal sex, crying, forced orgasm? face shot, heavy use of pet names, cringe, his body is a sex toy idk, cringe, so much cringe, please forgive me I love him, idc

Chapter 1 Chapter 3

Robo-boning uder the cut:

Chapter 2: The Cyborg

It was a breezy evening aboard the Sunny as you sipped from your wine glass while leaning forward against the railing of the deck. Sanji had once again prepared the crew a fantastic meal and you felt full and comfortable with the cool sea wind blowing through your hair. It was late, most of the crew had returned to their quarters. Zoro was up in his crows nest dojo having a late night workout, Franky had returned to his workshop to fiddle with some new cannon technology, Luffy was in a food coma and snoring loudly laid up against the mast, and even Sanji had finished dishes with Robin’s help and excused himself to bed. Robin was always so helpful with the dishes with her Devil Fruit powers and all. 

You were alone out here with only the sounds of the waves crashing against the hull and your captain’s aggressive snoring. You thought about how you missed your old life, but also how happy you were with the Straw Hats. You loved your job at the brothel and it certainly was less dangerous… but this new life? It was… exhilarating. You loved it. 

*I think I need something stronger* you thought to yourself…

You looked at your empty wine glass and walked into the galley for something more exciting. It was spotlessly clean and empty. You opened up the liquor cabinet and perused your options. Vodka, tequila, gin, rum.. hmm… 

*It’s a pirate’s life for me, I guess.* You giggled and grabbed the bottle of spiced rum off the shelf. You realized that taking it straight from the bottle was a little barbaric for a late night solo cocktail and went to the fridge for a mixer. Orange juice, mineral water, nothing suitable to mix with rum. You wracked your brain, what would go well with rum?  A lightbulb went off in your brain, there’s an obvious choice. Cola! 

Rum and cola went together like peanut butter and jelly, like pancakes and syrup, like tea and honey. Your mouth watered at the prospect of a tasty drink… You knew there wasn’t any cola in the kitchen, but you knew exactly where it was. You filled a glass from the cabinet with ice and held it in one hand and the bottle of rum in the other. You pushed past the swinging galley door towards the hallway that went to the center of the ship. You skipped down a flight of stairs until you reached a wooden door marked with blue cartoonish stars. Blue lettering adorned the top of the doorway reading ‘Franky House.’ 

*So nostalgic of him* you chuckled to yourself before knocking twice. 

“What’s up?” You hear Franky’s booming voice from the other side of the door. You opened the door and sidled in with your glass and bottle in hand. 

“Oh heyyy pretty thing, what are you doing up at this hour?” Franky turned on his stool next to his workbench to look at you. 

“I could ask you the same thing.” You smiled at him as you strode confidently towards the fridge you spotted in the corner of his room. “Fancied myself a rum and cola, figured you’d be the guy to call about finding a bottle of cola around here.” 

“Yeah babe! Mi cola es su cola!” He flashed you a winning smile before he turned back towards his work bench and continued fiddling with whatever gadget he was working on before your intrusion. You grabbed a bottle of brown syrupy liquid from the fridge and brought it over to him. You said nothing, just pointed the head of the bottle in his direction. He barely looked up as he reached his large hard out and popped the cap off of the bottle for you. You smiled. 

“Thanks, handsome.” 

You returned to the desk in the middle of the room where you had set your rum and glass, setting the cola down. You picked up the rum and poured a GENEROUS amount over the ice. You topped it off with the freshly popped cola and brought the glass to your lips. Holy shit you over did it with the rum but damn, that’s good. You took a few more sips and let out a big sigh. 

“Rough day, sweet cheeks?” Franky laughed after hearing your exasperated sigh. 

“Hmm.. I guess. Just feeling a bit nostalgic is all.”

Franky’s hands continued to manipulate the mechanical item on his work bench.

“Yeah I get it. It happened to all of us, ya have this whole life and then all of a sudden you’re a pirate. It’s super weird. You’ll get used to it, y/n, we all do. We can talk about it, if ya like.” He doesn’t turn around. He had always been so good at expressing his emotions, such a tender and kind soul. He knew how you felt, and wanted you to feel heard. 

*Such a sweet heart for a robot* you thought to yourself. But he wasn’t a robot, he was still a man. Sure, his body was more metal than flesh at this point, but it didn’t take away from what a gentle spirit he had. You started to wonder what other human instincts he had left… 

“Honestly Frank? I’m kind of trying not to think about it. What are you working on?” You walk over to his work bench and lean up next to him, against the table backwards, able to see the item on the table but facing his body. 

“Oh this? Nothing totally crazy, just something I was thinking about for my forearm cannon. You see this part here…” He was excitedly telling you about his work, clearly passionate about his science. You nod and give him “hmm”’s here and there. You pour another strong drink and bring it back over to Franky’s work bench. You set the glass in front of him.

“I can’t be the only one indulging tonight, right?” You say seductively as you slide the glass towards his massive chest. 

“Well little lady, I’m usually a cola purist, but I guess one drink won’t hurt.” Franky grabs the glass in his large hand and slams the drink in one gulp. He hisses out, not prepared for how strong you made the cocktail. 

“My god girl, you’re trying to get me drunk?!”

You laugh out loud and pour yourself another drink. 

“No no, just trying to get more comfortable!” You laugh again. “Now tell me more about this hydraulic, fusion combustion, thingy again…” 

You say this as you set yourself down on Franky’s wide lap, drink in hand. 

“Okay so if you can see this piece right here…” Franky continued explaining his latest project to you as you became distracted by his handsome features. He had a strong, chilled jaw, defined abs, incredible thighs and you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to his swim briefs. Was it still real? Did he have anything or was he like a doll?

You let your thoughts get the better of you and you set your glass down on the workbench. You slid to your knees in between Franky’s spread legs and let your head rest on his thigh. 

“WoAAhhh sweet thing, something else on your mind?” He dropped what he was working on and lifted his sunglasses onto his head as he looked down at you. He leaned back. You giggled up at him while stroking his crotch slowly. 

“mmmm yes. How could I not wonder? I’ve thought about it so much. Never had someone like you before…” You drew your face closer to the growing bulge in his swim briefs as you palm him. 

“Are you sure? How much do you want it? It might be too much for ya, doll face…” Franky puts his large palm on the side of your face, seemingly a bit concerned. 

“I want it. I can take it, please show me.” Your fingers worked at the hem of his tight black speedo before he helped you bring it down to his ankles. You pull them all the way off and return to your kneeled position between his legs. 

“Wow…” 

His cock was so gorgeous. It had to be real. It was so long, thinner than you’d like, but the length was truly impressive. The base was decorated with tufts of blue hair. 

“Is this good for ya, babe? Tell me what ya like and I can make it happen." Franky stroked your hair as you were staring at his cock from between his knees. 

“What?” You didn’t know what he was talking about. Was he that confident in his sexual abilities? You felt your cunt clench in anticipation. 

“No, this," He nods his head down at his erect cock. "I can make it anything you want. Too big?” You stared up at him with wide eyes. 

“Want bigger? Maybe you’re a little size queen?” Franky smirked at you with those last words. 

“No no,” You stuttered out. “Could you… could you maybe make it a little… thicker?” You were so embarrassed, you felt so silly asking for this man to change up his own cock for you. 

“Of course doll, if you want to be stretched out real good, who am I to deny you?” Franky smiled as he pressed his metal nose. 

You stared at his erect penis as it became girthier right before your eyes. 

“No way…” You gasped quietly to yourself. 

“Yes way baby! You really thought I would rebuild my own body and not give myself an incredible dick?” He grinned down at you between his legs. “Now… where were we?”

You felt his hand gently push the back of your head towards his newly engorged cock. You were snapped out of your stupor and grabbed the thick length with both hands and began to pump it slowly. 

“Perfect….” Franky cooed at you as you stroked him. 

You leaned forward and took his tip into your mouth. He groaned loudly. You knew he would be loud, he always is, why would now be any different?

You gradually took more and more of his cock into your mouth and bobbed your head up and down. With each pull backwards you slurped and dragged your tongue across the bulbous head of his dick. 

“Fuck, shit, just like that…” He tried so hard not to ram his hips into your face, knowing it would scare you off. His body was too strong. 

“Shit baby… You’re way too good at this… get up here and let me stuff you.” 

Once again your pussy squeezed around nothing, pushing out a drip of your arousal. Franky leaned down and grabbed your hips to pull you upward. 

In a moment you were on your back on Franky’s workbench, his projects swept to the the floor with one brush of his huge forearm. He was man handling your body to pull all your clothes off of you. You lay back down on the table, now fully bare in front of him.

“Franky, fuck me. Please. I want it.” 

He hovered over you, massive body eclipsing yours. 

“And you’re sure? I told you it might be too much… Once I start… well it can just be a lot for someone who isn't used to it.” Franky asked you for the last time, making sure you knew what you were getting into. 

“Yes, Frank. I’m so sure.” 

He pushed you down forcefully, but you protested by rising to your elbows and catching his lips in a wet kiss. He accepted your kiss and forced his tongue past your spit covered lips. You groaned at his dominance, such a change from how you were used to being with your other lovers. 

After making out for several moments, you whined a bit too loudly when he pinched at your nipple. 

“Okay okay needy girl, I’ll give you what you want now. But don’t say I didn’t warn you…” 

He pushes your thighs up with one hand as he lines his perfect cock up with your sopping hole with the other. He squeezes himself in slowly. 

“Holy FUCK, my GOD Franky…!” You shout out as he sinks balls deep inside of you, having you in a mating press with one hand due to his large stature. 

“Oh pretty lady, we haven’t even started.” He begin to pull out and shove himself back into your cunt, slick coating his cock more and more with each thrust. You slammed your eyes shut in pleasure, his dick was hitting all the perfect spots inside of you almost like it was made perfectly to fit your body… oh wait… it was. 

All of a sudden you felt a new sensation along with his heft length splitting you open. Was he… vibrating? Your neck snapped up and your eyes shot open to meet his above you. 

“Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that. Had to add something for the ladies pleasure, right?”

“FRANKY!” Your body lurched forward and grabbed his biceps. You had never felt anything like this before. It’s like your body was lit up by electricity. The smooth drag of his vibrating cock against your g-spot was complete sensory overload. 

Franky chuckled. He continued railing into your tiny body, chasing his own pleasure, not worried that you’d reach yours. 

“Frank I’m going to-!” You yelped as your body tumbled over the edge in pleasure. It was the most intense orgasm you’ve ever experienced. Your spasming cunt pushed out your release all over your lovers abdomen and legs.

“Wow doll face, I never thought you’d be a squirter!” Franky laughed over you as he drilled his hips into yours further, not concerned about your recovery from your intense orgasm. Your body was limp in his hold now, not able to produce any sort of coherent phrase. 

“Franky wait, I feel like-Ah!“ 

You were cumming again. It was only a few moments after your last orgasm and your center was  squeezing and creaming on Franky’s thick robotic cock again. You had lost full control over your body, it was like nothing you’d ever experienced. You screamed. You had no idea what words you were trying to scream, but you screamed. 

“You like that, huh baby? How about one more for me? I think you can do it, right?” Tears streamed down your face as you laid on his workbench, boneless. Your cunt was throbbing in both pain and pleasure. You were being thrust into so forcefully that your body slid back and forth on the table, your breasts basically hitting you in the chin as they bounced so aggressively. 

“Mmmm.. Hmm. FUCK! Yes I can do it, I can take it!” You felt drunk on pleasure, barely able to keep your eyes focused. The sensations in your pussy were unlike anything you’d ever experienced. As your cyborg lover pounded into you at an impossible speed, you felt the familiar wave of pressure bubble up from your center, but this time far more intense than the others. 

“There it is baby, I can feel it, I knew you could do it for me sweet thing.” He coaxed you into tipping over the edge. Your back arched and you shrieked up at him. You vision went completely white for a moment as you felt your massive release splattering against Franky’s thighs and cock. Wet, sloppy noises filled the room as you felt your cunt start to tingle with numbness and overstimulation, 

“Can’t… it’s too much!”  You whine loudly at him as you make a feeble attempt to push at his abs, not entirely sure what you wanted yet. 

“That’s just fine doll face, I’ve got something else in mind anyway.” He flashes you a huge grin before grabbing you around your ribs and setting you down on your knees on the floor in front of him.

“Open wide, pretty lady!” He held your hair in a makeshift ponytail with one hand and stroked his massive cock in front of your face with the other. 

Obviously after 3 earth-shattering orgasms you were putty in his large hands. You stick your tongue out and look up at him. After seeing the makeup smeared on your face from spit and sweat and tears, there was no way he could hold back any longer. 

“Fuuuuuuuck…!” He groaned out as he painted your eager, wrecked face with simply so much cum. It dripped off your cheeks and your chin as you happily kept your mouth open for him. He finally finishes his release and taps his cock on your tongue, so you can taste the last bit. 

“Shit you look so super like this!” Franky beamed down at you covered in his thick cum. You grin back up at him, delirious from exhaustion, cum dribbling down your neck. “But I guess I can’t leave ya like that huh?” He grabbed a clean rag from a drawer in his workbench and started wiping his seed off your face, you were so exhausted your eyes fell closed and you held your head in his free hand. 

“Hold on hold on doll, I’m almost done then I’ll put ya to bed.” Franky finished cleaning your face and picked up up off your knees and set you down on his bed. He tucked you in and went to put back on the little clothing he had on in the first place. He moved towards the door of his room. 

“Well thanks for the break, little lady! I have a repair I need to finish up on the deck tonight, but you get some rest.” Franky says from over his shoulder on the way out to the rest of the ship. You close your eyes and relax your bruised and exhausted body into Franky’s mattress. 

"Hey, if you’re feeling up to it when I get back, we can have a round 2! You haven’t even seen half the super stuff I can do, I just went easy on you!” He shouted as he left the room with his toolbox and the door closed behind him. 

Your eyes snapped open.

“WHAT?!”

---

a/n I again, am so sorry lol but Franky needs more love. Justice for Franky Fuckers.

[satoshi-mochida]

Story of Seasons: Grand Bazaar announced for Switch, PC - Gematsu

Marvelous has announced Story of Seasons: Grand Bazaar, a reimagining of Harvest Moon DS: Grand Bazaar, for Switch and PC (Steam). It will launch on August 27 worldwide.

Here is an overview of the game, via Marvelous:

About

Tired of the hustle and bustle of the city, and looking for a life of cozy comforts? Have a green thumb, a love for animals, and a desire for a breath of fresh mountain air? Consider making Zephyr Town your new home! Our delightful location offers invigorating year-round winds and boasts a world-famous market…which admittedly has fallen on hard times. We’re looking for a motivated individual to help us bring brighter days back to our breezy burg! We’ll even provide you with a farm to help bring local goods to wanting customers and show the world that Zephyr Town’s bazaar can still fly high. Please contact Mayor Felix to make an appointment to visit today! Serious inquiries only. Zephyr Town’s bazaar was once one of the grandest in the world, drawing customers and peddlers from all four corners of the globe. These days, though, the bazaar has more tumbleweeds than customers. It’s up to you to turn its fortunes around! Raise animals, harvest crops, craft rare delicacies, then sell your wares at your very own stall in the bazaar. As the bazaar business grows, new goods and services will arrive, which you can use to improve your farm. Help return prosperity to the bazaar, and Zephyr Town will thrive once again! Inspired by the classic handheld title, the new Story of Seasons: Grand Bazaar builds up and improves on the original in every conceivable way. The world is bigger and more alive than ever thanks to incredible new visuals, new characters, expanded story, and full character voice work in story events—a series first. Take advantage of Zephyr Town’s unique weather, using the wind to make travel and farm tasks a breeze! The winds of change are coming to deliver your new life in Story of Seasons: Grand Bazaar.

Key Features

Cozy Living Reaches New Heights – The magnificent beauty of Zephyr Town shines with gorgeous graphics while a richly voiced story carries the player on a rewarding journey of farming, friendship, and renewal.

Ring the Bell and Sell, Sell, Sell – Your farm’s produce and goods take on additional importance as the heart of your business at the lively weekly bazaar. Customize your stall and take charge of your sales to build up buzz and power up profits.

Take the Leap – Harness the power of the wind! Use windmills to create new products to sell, and effortlessly travel across the town on your glider. Use new jumping skills on your farm, or when exploring the town. You never know what you’ll find!

A Beautifully Cozy Life – Enjoy a rich life amongst a colorful community of characters, from friendly townsfolk to magical Nature Sprites. Build yourself a home, grow relationships, and even find love and start a family.

Watch the announcement trailer below. View the first screenshots at the gallery.

Nintendo Direct: March 27, 2025

English

Japanese

[lilmarshie]

Weekend Getaway | Steve Harrington x Fem! Reader

You decide to take a spontaneous trip to Northwest Indiana to some of the beaches alongside Lake Michigan with Steve. The peaceful setting and fun, shared experiences bring you closer, under the bright sunlit sky, while surrounded by golden sandy beaches.

Steve and you have decided for some time now that you needed a little vacation. Some time to yourselves in somewhere that wasn’t Hawkins. And this weekend was that weekend where you would get that much needed alone time.

The night before heading out to Northwest Indiana was spent packing your new, cute bikini and other sunshine inspired accessories. Steve had even bought a matching swimsuit for the occasion. When he tried it on for you the night before, you fell even more in love with him. “Steve! I love that color on you. You look even more handsome, babe.” You said with a wink and a huge smile. Steve blushed wildly and chuckled softly as he ran his fingers through his already messy locks. “Thanks babe. I bought it because it went so well with your bikini. I thought it would look cute for pictures.” Steve said, pulling you in and planting a kiss on your forehead. “Well, you did good babe. Now let’s finish packing.” You said, playfully messing with his hair before turning to finish packing.

Once you were done it was just about time to head to bed especially since you needed to be up early the next morning. Steve scooped you up into his arms and carried you to bed. “C’mon sleepyhead. It’s time to go to bed now. We have to be up early tomorrow.” Steve whispered softly, as he tucked you into the warm sheets. “Ok, Steve. But you need to get to bed too.” You mumbled, your head slowly turning to rest on the pillow Steve had placed behind your head. “I’ll be in bed soon, love. I just need to brush my teeth real quick.” Steve said, before turning to head into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Five minutes later, Steve comes out teeth brushed, and ready for bed. He plopped into bed next to you and pulled you into his warm, soothing embrace. “I love you, sweetheart. I can’t wait for our little vacation.” Steve mumbled softly, before kissing you gently on the head. You were already fast asleep, and upon seeing this, Steve chuckled and fell asleep shortly afterwards.

When the next morning rolled around, it was time, to head out on your vacation. Steve helped you pack up his classic BMW, and, you were off on your little roadtrip. You both enjoy the quiet drive with the windows down, feeling the cool morning breeze. The car is filled with the sounds of your favorite 80s mixtape, and you both sing along to the tunes. The air is breezy and beautiful along your journey to the sandy beaches that await you.

Steve cruised through the winding roads to the beach, and made quick progress. You ended up arriving at the beach about an hour ahead of your scheduled arrival time. Once you arrived to the beach, Steve quickly helped you to unpack the many items that you brought to make your trip special. Things such as beach chairs, sunscreen and sunglasses, a beach ball, two fun brightly colored towels, a volleyball, a book to do some light reading, and some snacks. You also brought a cooler full of drinks and water bottles to stay hydrated and cool in the heat.

Steve had also packed a picnic lunch which included some fresh fruit, yummy sandwiches, bags of chips, and popsicles for dessert. The perfect meal for a weekend getaway. He spread out the food onto one of the bigger towels that you had packed and the two of you dug into the delicious meal. “I’m so glad we ended up packing a lunch, Steve.” You said, your mouth half full of chips. Steve chucked and smirked at you. “Of course, love. I couldn’t let you go hungry. I know you can get a little angry if you don’t have anything to eat after a while. So, I wanted to make sure we had plenty of food.” Steve said, playfully ruffling your hair.

It was so relaxing to be able to watch the waves go by, hear the sounds of the birds in the air, and enjoy the cool breeze coming off of the water. You and Steve both needed this escape from the busyness of your daily life. You were just thankful that you were even able to take some time away from work. As the sun got warmer, you both decide to take a dip in the cool waters of Lake Michigan. Steve shows off some of his swimming skills, diving and doing flips, while you splash around and laugh together. After swimming, you laid on the beach to sunbathe, enjoying the sun on your skin.

Late into the afternoon, Steve and you decide to go and explore the nearby wooded areas near Lake Michigan. During your detour, Steve took some pictures of you, enjoying the forest and the sights found within its beautiful landscape. You spent the next couple of hours exploring and laughing together at silly jokes that Steve would make. It was so fun just to kick back and not have to worry about anything.

As the day comes to an end, you gather driftwood and set up a small bonfire on the beach. You roast marshmallows and make s'mores, enjoying the warmth of the fire and the beautiful sunset. Steve plays his guitar, and you both sing softly as the stars begin to appear in the night sky. The sounds of crickets and the sight of fireflies filling the air.

As the bonfire begins to die down, you lay on the towels you had brought and gaze up at the stars. Steve points out some constellations and tells you all about his favorite ones. You both talk about your hopes and fears, feeling a deep connection under the vast, star-filled sky. Steve tells you how’s he’s worried about not being good enough. But you reassure him that he’s perfectly fine just the way that he is.

“I love you, babe…” Steve said, his hand tightly in yours. His fingers laced with your fingers gingerly as if to not hurt you. “I love you too, Steve. My handsome knight in shining armor.” You said, leaning over to plant a chaste kiss on his lips. Steve blushed wildly, his cheeks flushed in the light of the slowly smoldering bonfire.

By the end of your trip, you and Steve are closer than ever, having shared a day full of fun, laughter, and meaningful moments that allowed you to grow closer together during your weekend getaway.

[separatist-apologist]

We Could Call It Even

Summary: Newly made and terrified, Elain Archeron's human fiance tells her of a creature that could turn her back and keep them together and Elain will stop at nothing to make rumor a reality.

There is no force that can undo fate. No magic that can unmake a mating bond. And Lucien Vanserra isn't about to let his mate throw herself in the path of certain death on a fools hope. Lucien will be forced, instead, to watch her love another man for eighty brutal, miserable years.

While Elain Archeron will have to contend with a life she hoped to never live…and a mate she never wanted.

Read on AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

“Mr. Vanserra,” Odessa began, sliding into his pub before it was open.

“Why did I give you a key?” he grumbled as she made her way forward, mug of coffee in her hand.

“That’s why,” she said with an easy grin. “Have you heard the rumors?”

“No,” he replied, taking that first sip. Lucien didn’t know if it was the beverage itself or merely the act of drinking something hot that seemed to bring him back to life. “Is Bernard in the harbor again?”

She laughed. “No. He quit drinking, remember?”

“Oh, of course. That explains why he was here carousing all night,” Lucien replied with a bite of sarcasm. “Tell me.”

“Remember the florist?” 

No, he didn’t—people seemed to forget that Lucien hadn’t lived here for centuries. Merely eighty something years, the vast majority spent making his little pub profitable. The florist had been gone by the time he came in—she’d simply moved away to be closer to great, great, great grandchildren he thought. Someone had to tell him that, anyway. Still, Lucien wasn’t about to admit all that. It would remind people he was still relatively new despite living there for nearly a century.

“Of course.”

Odessa’s grin told him she knew he was a liar. She didn’t call him on it, which was one of her better qualities.

“Well, she swore she was never going to sell that storefront. I think she was afraid of another pub—she was always going on and on about young people and their drinking habits. She sold it, though.”

“To who?”

Odessa shrugged. “No idea. Someone I’ve never seen before, and I thought she must be from the inland but her accent…sounds awfully familiar.” He narrowed his eyes. “No one from Prythian is coming out here to work.” Certainly no one he knew, anyway. 

“Maybe they’re from Rask, then. They’re always sneaking over the border, stealing our jobs—”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Lucien interrupted, uninterested in yet another long-winded diatribe on why everyone who wasn’t from their home was an evil. It was a common refrain—everyone thought so, Prythian included. Nationalist sentiment was especially high as one of their independence holidays was nearly upon the city. Flags of cerulean and white hung from nearly every storefront, waving in the breezy, ocean wind. Lucien's shop was no exception, though the whole thing amused him. He didn’t care one way or the other. It was simply good for business. 

He did like Vallahan, of course—when he pictured his future, he didn’t see himself leaving. The memories were still far too fresh to return to Prythian, and despite the time that had passed, it seemed very little had changed. His mother was still married to Beron, his brother likely still schemed. Feyre’s oldest son was nearly grown and she still governed as High Lady of Night, her inner circle also unchanged.

She came to visit sometimes, spending an evening in his home above the pub. Rather than the small room he’d once furnished, his home had expanded to three bedrooms, an actual living room, and a full-sized kitchen he spent a lot of time in. One of those bedrooms was designated for Feyre only, dressed up in soft lilac and cream to suit her tastes.

She spent more and more time each visit, telling him of everything he’d missed. It was mostly amusing personal stories or inter-court drama that still amused him. She was careful never to mention Elain. At first, Lucien had thought she was dancing around the subject to spare his feelings. In time, however, he realized that Ferye simply didn’t know. Elain didn’t keep in touch, and Feyre hadn’t reached out.

Sometimes he wondered if the human male had died or not. If Elain had gone crawling back to her sisters, begging for absolution that they’d absolutely give her. Was it wrong to hope that Rhysand, at least, might give her a little hell? 

The pain had lessened to a dull ache in his chest. Some nights it pained him more than others but for the most part, Lucien could ignore it entirely. She’d made her choices, and he’d made his. There was simply no road where they might meet again. Elain would return to Prythian, she’d embrace being faerie, and would likely find some new male to torment for the rest of her days. Lucien had no intention of returning unless he could return to Autumn itself.

“Do you have anything else for me?” Lucien asked Odessa, pulling himself out of his depressed thoughts. He took another sip of his rapidly cooling beverage while Odessa continued to grin. 

“You’re not going to say hello? I heard she’s very beautiful.”

The thought made his stomach clench. He’d had enough of  beautiful females. Sure, when he’d first gotten to Vallahan, he’d made a name for himself, sleeping with whoever interested him to mask his own pain. For twenty years Lucien had acted that way until one morning he woke up miserable, angry, and still in pain. It wasn’t helping. It had never helped. What was the point of moving away if he was going to bring all his same bad habits with him?

So he’d stopped. Sometimes he missed the warmth of another body in his bed, but it passed easily. 

“Why don’t you say hello to her for me?” Lucien suggested. Odessa had just as fearsome a reputation with females as Lucien did. Her smile only widened.

“I’m trying but she’s like a nervous little fawn—scampering off anytime someone gets a little too close.”

Lucien only shrugged, draining the rest of his coffee before sliding the porcelain mug over to her. “Sounds like your problem. Not mine.” If there was more Odessa wanted to say, she wisely kept her mouth shut. She took her mug, threw Lucien a rather saucy wink, and sauntered out of the pub. She had other people to make the rounds with, spreading the gossip as far as she could. Lucien promptly forgot as he made the climb back upstairs to fully dress himself for the day. It promised to be warm, and when the weather was uncomfortable, folks retreated indoors for respite and a drink. When it was pleasant, they sat outside drinking and eating and talking well into the early hours of the night.

No matter what, Lucien came out on top. 

He took his time bathing before braiding his hair off the crown of his head once the warm air had dried the strands. He dressed casually, leaving the buttons in his shirt undone just below the collar, and a little untucked as well. It made him seem rakish, and Lucien rather liked his reputation, even if it was no longer deserved. 

Perception was everything, after all. 

Back downstairs, Lucien unlocked the back of the pub so Bernard could drop off meat and the cook could start preparing for the lunch. He made his way to the front to set out chairs, gaze turning to the florist just across the street. There had once been boards over the windows and the yellow paint had been chipping and peeling along the street. 

Who had purchased it, and painted it? The peeling paint was gone, revealing pretty limestone washed brick and vibrant, sage shutters thrown open. Planter boxes held swaying flowers and the yellow, rounded door had been thrown open. 

Lucien made his way across the street, narrowly avoiding a horse pulled cart filled with sun mellons stacked so high he was certain a few would spill out before they reached the grocer. Knocking on the front door, he called out, “Anyone home?”

Inside was far nicer than whatever had existed before. White walls ought to have been boring and uninspiring, but the owner had hung up pretty, twinkling lights where the wall met the ceiling along with bright floral displays that made the space seem alive. Bright.

Beautiful, he decided. 

“One moment!” called a soft, feminine voice. “I—oh, no—” her voice became muffled as the sounds of something crashing abruptly ended whatever she’d been about to say. Lucien hopped over the counter to push open the swinging door where a pair of fair legs jutted out from beneath a pile of heavy looking boxes. The soft smell of honey and jasmine invaded his senses, causing his heart to race. 

“Let me help,” he said, pulling that first box of what looked like discarded hardware off her form.

“This is my fault,” she said, pushing at the boxes on top of her. “I knew I shouldn’t…”

Lucien nearly dropped what he held directly back on the woman now staring up at him. Anger bloomed in his chest at the sight of those wide, brown eyes, half obscured thanks to the tangle of hair in her face.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded, dropping the items loudly to the floor. He was panting, he realized, his anger warring with familiar desire. His blood was awake, chanting the same word over and over.

Mate, mate, mate, mate—

Elain blinked, bottom lip trembling.

“Oh, here we fucking go,” he muttered, turning his back to her. “Did Feyre send you?”

“No, she didn’t send me. Why? Did she finally realize the error of her ways and exile you?”

He wanted to throttle her.

He wanted to inhale her scent from the crook of her neck.

“Turn around and go home, Elain,” he dismissed, needing to get away from her. He’d lose his mind if he had to live across the street from her, and Lucien wasn’t picking back up and starting over. He’d come here to get away from her and she had no right to encroach on his territory. “Surely your husband needs his diaper changed?”

“Oh, go to hell, Lucien,” she spat. 

“I don’t want you here—”

“I don’t care what you want—”

“Yes, you’ve made that abundantly clear!” Lucien exploded, his rage betraying him. “Everything has been about what you want since I found myself tethered to you! I bow to your whims and you don’t consider anyone—”

“Do you ever stop talking?” she interrupted, rubbing her temples with her fingers. “Poor, sad, Lucien. Maybe you can write about it in your journal? I’m here. I’m not leaving.”

They stared at one another, jaw set, shoulders squared. It was a fight she wanted? He could give her a fight.

“There are no humans here,” he informed her, making a show of examining his nails. “Just fae,”

She narrowed her eyes. “I know.” Obnoxious. “Does Feyre know you’re here?” He tried a different tactic, desperate to convince Elain to leave before she ruined everything. 

“I’m sure you’ll tell her,” Elain replied, her irritation plain. 

Lucien wanted to vomit. He could feel bile churning in his stomach, burning a path up his throat. This was all wrong—it had taken him nearly a century to stop dreaming about her, to push her out of his mind and move on. He was happy.

And here she was, come to ruin that, too. Elain Archeron felt owed, and had decided to get back everything taken from her even if it came at his expense. Especially if it came at his expense. Elain would think nothing of staying here, would think nothing of encroaching into the next place he moved, on and on until she’d marked the whole word as hers, and he simply had nowhere else to go.

“If you stay, I will make your life as miserable as you’ve made mine,” Lucien threatened. Elain blinked up at him, eyes watery. If she cried, he thought he might lose it and fully explode with rage. 

“I died,” Elain hissed, closing the gap between them to jab her finger into his chest, “and the first thing I heard when I came out was your horrible voice declaring we were mates. I could never make you half as miserable as you’ve made me.” Lucien was unmoved. “Watch me.”

He turned, then, delighted to have gotten the last word, and made his way back into the street where the air didn’t smell like her. Small mercies. His body was a betrayer, heart thudding not with hatred or fury, but excitement. Some stupid part of him wanted to go back into that room and bury his nose in her hair. Instinct, he supposed, that he couldn’t wholly overcome.

Smelling her wouldn’t make him like her any better. Maybe fucking her would ease some bruising ache in his chest, but it certainly wouldn’t ease his aching heart. 

Lucien made his way back into his emptied pub, ignoring that it was nearly set up for lunch. Renatta would be in soon to serve while Lucien worked the bar and a few back of house staff cooked and stayed on top of dishes. He wanted to simply close it all down, pack up his things, and continue moving west. Lucien had a life here. A world that made sense, with friends who’d only ever known him as Lucien—not a High Lord's son, not an emissary to a court, or anyone of importance. 

Why should he go, he asked himself silently, seething with anger. She should return—surely she had a host of hybrid children that would be missing her? The thought was a punch to the gut, another reminder that he was never going to have that. His whole future had been ripped out from under him not once, but twice. Elain had gotten a lifetime with the male she loved, more than Lucien had ever been given, and still she was unsatisfied.

Spoiled. 

Lucien would make her regret it, he decided. She was an outsider, had purchased the business of a well-loved person, and was about to be known as the enemy of Lucien who was loved. For whatever that was worth. Lucien knew everyone and Elain knew no one. A few well placed rumors, a couple pieces of salacious gossip, and she’d become a shut-in. No friends to speak of, no social life, and little business to sustain her. He’d have her back on a ship to Velaris before the first frost bit at his nose. 

The thought offered Lucien a small amount of relief. And not to prove Elain right, but before he went back downstairs, Lucien fired off a quick missive to Feyre, furious she hadn’t warned him. Were they friends or not, he asked? How dare she meddle in his life knowing how badly Elain had wounded him. Not all mates were happy pairs. Lucien could think of very few who were happy. 

Feyre needed to butt out.

Once his letter was on its way to Prythian, Lucien felt like he could breathe a little. Taking the stairs two at a time, Lucien went behind the bar to wipe down glasses and prepare himself for what he hoped was a decently busy day. 

Renatta was there in her long, lacy blue skirt and her cinched top which she swore caused her to receive better tips. Lucien thought it was because her breasts were spilling out over the neckline, in danger of coming out entirely each time she bent low to drop off drinks or pick up plates. He wasn’t going to say that, of course—if nothing else, it would make a room full of half drunk males happy. 

She made her way toward him once she was done, leaning up on the counter with a smile on her face. “So,” she began, looking him up and down with an expression he was immediately distrustful of, “there's a new female in—”

“No. Matchmaking,” he interrupted, a familiar refrain he’d repeated a hundred times before. 

“She’s so pretty—”

“I heard she had screaming fever,” Lucien informed Renatta, a lie he was well aware of. Prythian had never had a case of screaming fever, to start, and Elain certainly bore none of the tell-tale scratch scars on her face from the ailment. “I heard she was on the run from a High Lord in Prythian.”

Renatta loved gossip—it was what made her so good at serving tables. She’d spread it among the patrons that night under the guise of friendly customer service. Everyone who came through would hear the rumors—Elain, too, who would have to stutter and stumble her way through explanations no one quite believed.

Lucien grinned, turning toward his tap as Renatta stood to seat the first people coming in. Her eyes were bright with excitement, bouncing toward them with a secret she’d get to share. The night passed in much the same way—Lucien stayed so busy he didn’t have time to think about Elain.

He wouldn’t have thought of her at all had she not come storming over that next morning. He’d managed to throw a pair of trousers over his hips, unlaced and revealing a trail of hair that vanished along the waistband. He assumed it was Odessa with his coffee,  banging to let him in so they could gossip quietly for the next hour. 

It was Elain, arms crossed over her chest, hair plastered to her face thanks to a drizzling rain just outside. Lucien hesitated, suddenly too aware of his body. Lucien was uncomfortable, made worse when her eyes widened in horror, causing her to stumble back a step. 

“You—put on a shirt,” she ordered. Lucien’s temper flared.

“What do you want?” he replied, unwilling to do anything she asked, even if he privately agreed with her. Lucien was tired of her face, of her voice, of everything about her that she kept shoving in his face.

“Stop telling people I had screaming fever,” Elain hissed, looking over his shoulder rather than at him.

“I didn’t tell anyone that,” he lied, barely able to suppress a grin. “Maybe I just told them I found you impossibly ugly and they drew their own conclusions.”

Her eyes snapped to his face, narrowed to slits. “You’re a liar.”

He only shrugged. That was well-known. “Is that all?”

“You can’t run me out of this place, Lucien,” she said, unaware that the sound of his name on her lips made his whole body jerk with excitement. Traitor. 

“You can’t control everyone to get what you want,” he shot back, venom dripping from every word. “I’ve been here for eighty years while you shacked—”

She slapped him. Lucien saw her hand strike forward, felt her palm collide with his cheek. The string was brutal, filling his mouth with the coppery tang of blood. He grabbed her wrist before she could snatch it back, holding it tight enough that when she tried to pull back, he was certain he was bruising her skin.

Was this the first time he’d ever touched her? Like genuinely touched her? Lucien thought it might be. He’d once daydreamed what it would be like—nothing like reality. “If you do that again, I will make you regret it.”

“I already regret it,” she hissed, yanking vainly again. Lucien didn’t release her, though he should have. He could feel her fluttering pulse beneath his fingers, could practically taste the sweet scent of her. He hated her and he wanted her in equal measure. He didn’t want to let her go because touching her skin was soothing something angry in his chest. 

She was going to do far worse than hit him if he didn’t. He’d deserve it, too. Reluctantly, Lucien forced himself to let her go, watching as she cradled that hand against her chest. She looked like she wanted to pummel him. Lucien would like to see it, if only to witness a little spunk from the otherwise docile Elain. Sure, she was constantly telling him off, but those words were toothless. Elain always did what he wanted if he insulted her forcefully enough.

Only, Lucien didn’t want to right then. He suddenly felt exhausted, worn down by his strange life and the female with her heaving chest staring up at him with so much hatred.

“Leave me alone, Elain. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to speak to you. I want nothing from you.”

That ought to have been the end of it. Lucien certainly hoped so, anyway. He reached for the door, but Elain slammed out a hand, preventing him from shutting it in his face.

“Why not go back to Prythian, then?” she suggested silky. His anger spiked again.

“Why not go back to the humans you love so much?” he shot back, eyes trailing to her ears. The tips warmed, turning a bright shade of pink as though she were embarrassed he could see them peeking out from behind her mass of thick curls. 

“You don’t know anything at all,” she hissed, turning on her heel to stalk off. “And if you don’t stop telling stories, I’ll start telling stories about you. Maybe I’ll tell them who you really are. Or maybe I’ll tell your brothers. I heard they were looking for you.”

Lucien paled and Elain smiled, triumphant to have the upper hand for once. 

“This isn’t over!” he yelled at her retreating back. And to his surprise, she looked over her shoulder and offered him a rather rude gesture with her hand. Lucien would have laughed had he not been so surprised to see it. She vanished inside her little shop, leaving Lucien half naked on the front step of his own.

Game on, Elain Archeron.

Game on.

[hearted-anon]

Christmas nights

Words: 1,027 Note: my teeth rotted from this Requested by: @itzsana-kiddingmenow T/w: fluff. Taglist: @reginald-stay09 @itzsana-kiddingmenow @hetashi-takashimaya @soap143 @jungwon-is-the-one @minnielvrr @skzdiary Lee: Felix Ler: Changbin

Nothing was better than a breezy night. Felix hummed as he strolled down the hallway, whisking a quick cup of hot chocolate on the counter. Heaving a heavenly sigh at the smell that grazed him, he stared down at the cars driving by under the bright green and red Christmas lights, dazing off about what it'd be like to be in one of those cares, admiring all the holiday scenery as the snowflakes fell against the window. An abrupt loud knock startled the blonde out of his daydream, opening the door to a pajama-dressed Changbin.

"Seungmin took over my room for the night, mind if I crash over?" Felix barely wasted a second before bringing the rapper into the apartment, laying him down onto the couch as if he was made of glass. Sitting down beside him, he brought the elder's head to his lap, running his hand through the curls that settled in with his bare faced look, his other hand holding his mug of hot chocolate with a warm smile on his face. A relieved and blissful sigh emits from below the blonde, snuggling himself further into the dancer's hold while his fingers lazily curled around the fabric of the couch.

"The sky's so beautiful, isn't it Hyung? Do you think you'd get sentimental enough from the night's view to write a new song?" Felix says calmly, eyes unable to take themselves off the icy road that littered with pretty snowflakes in, that was till a breeze flew by, tickling the hairs on Changbin's arms and making them stand on their ends. Sensing that the elder was probably freezing, he reluctantly shifts himself up from the couch with one last ruffle to the curly hair, chuckling softly at the grabby hands and whining he got in his direction.

Coming back with a huge blanket, he tossed it over the rapper, who instantly shot up and snuggled himself into the Aussie's hold, as if he were a Koala that had found its favourite tree. The night settled over the duo, the silence that one would think felt tense and awkward was only the complete opposite, rather basking in the silence. The only sounds that emitted were from the impatient drivers below, the sounds of trees singing as the wind joined them in their symphony, or the fireplace that crackled to life in light of the winter.

"…to answer your question, maybe. The moon's just so beautiful, isn't it?" Changbin sighs almost dreamily, fingers mindlessly toying with the fabric of the blanket. It wasn't long till the elder finds fingers tenderly tracing along his side after an arm wrapped around his waist and tugged him closer, soft, breathless giggles emitting from the peace that was once stored between them. The sensation, although persistent, was something that Changbin didn't protest against, rather enjoying the gentle tingles that were luring him to doze off.

"Aha… hyuhung… that tickles…" His tranquil slumber was immediately interrupted by a low rumble of laughter from beside him, his head bobbing up and down slightly with the vibrations that were sent through his body. Staring down at his lap, he was surprised to find the fabric he thought he was mindlessly tracing patterns against had switched out to be the Aussie's palm, watching with a fond smile at how his fingers curled in instinctively from the tickles only to open back up after a short while.

"Yongbok ah… you're so cute…" Changbin slurs out sleepily, Felix's hand trembling to stay holding onto the mug, taking tiny sips here and there. His cheeks flushed a pale red at the compliment, more so that it was said in Changbin's voice, or that he sounded so damned adorable, or that his bare face was looking at him with a half lidded that would've sent him to see stars. Soft giggles continued to tumble from his mouth, the light caress between his fingers sending tiny electric shocks through his body.

"Mmh… plehehease…" He didn't even know what he was pleading for, hand quivering to stay open through the tender tickles that were driving him up the wall. As if reading his mind, Changbin reached up to pull the mug away onto the coffee table, before wrapping around his waist. His hand now left free, was absolutely useless, gripping onto the armrest tightly like it would help with anything that was happening.

"Just let it happen, don't fight against it.." The rapper whispered, slowly beginning to knead and squeeze against the dancer's side, earning a tiny squeak. Deep, rich laughs tumbled from Felix's mouth, listening keenly to Changbin's words and leaning into the touch, even if it made the elder look like he was a fish bait waiting to be caught with how much his head was bouncing from the younger's giggles.

"Ohoho gosh… plehehease!" Felix squealed, throwing his head back against the cushions with a bright red face, matching with the fireplace that seemed to encourage the playful banter between the duo. The Aussie brought his hand to his forehead, the other twitching from the feather-light sensations being brought onto his palm. Changbin barely spared the dancer a glance, basking in the snickers that he could hear, or the blonde hair that fell over his head.

"Please what? Did you need something?" The elder inquires in faux curiosity, as if he didn't know exactly what he was doing. After a few more rounds of helpless begging, he releases his hold on the Aussie, eyes widening when he was tugged down onto the couch, laying down on the sofa cushions while arms found his waist. Felix said nothing in response, burying his nose into the black curls, taking in the shampoo scent like a man starved of food. He squeezed the rapper as close as he possibly could, even going so far as to throw his leg over Changbin's, trapping him in.

The atmosphere didn't take long to still, the nightly breeze unable to wake them as the duo drifted off to slumber, not bothered to even open their eyes when a puppy barged in the next morning to kick a certain sleepy dwaekki out of the chick's arms.

[dreamingofeos]

Have I ever even talked about all of Comet's relationships? He has "seven evil exes".

Madonna. They dated while he was still living with his bio family on Christmas Island. When he left, he had no choice but to ghost her in the process.

Tiara. During their early teenage years they were madly in love and most assumed they would eventually go on to marry. Tiara broke up with him, however, after a few years, when she felt "she grew up and he didn't".

Elise. After saving her kingdom multiple times, they began a discreet, very brief, but sweet and loving relationship. The mutual decision was made to break it off when Elise's mother found out and forcefully betrothed her to a different man lest she be exiled from her home.

Breezie. Though he fell for her, Breezie was only with him for the clout. Once her status as Sonic The Hedgehog's partner gained her the mayoral position of Station Square, she began cheating on him and eventually dumped him.

Jet. After Breezie, he leaned deeply into his rivalry with Jet and things naturally turned from adversarial to romantic. Breezie caught wind of this new relationship and, seeing it as a threat to her public image, coerced Jet into cheating on Comet with her. He dumped Jet when walking in on the two of them.

Bean. Yeah, outside of "using one cocky green bird to take the place of another", no one can really explain this one. He was unfit to be in any kind of romantic relationship at best, and was emotionally/verbally abusive at worst. It ended when Comet finally woke up and realized how bad he was being treated.

Shadow. Against Chronos' wishes, Comet and Terios started dating when he was in his early twenties. The two were decently invested in each other and actually had a good relationship up until the point Chronos went missing. From there all Comet's efforts diverted to bringing him home, which resulted in the relationship being neglected. Terios made the decision to break it off if not just to spare the both of them anymore pain.

So yeah, guy's been through it. F in chat.

[objectmates]

HIII OMG OBJSHOW BAH BLOG /VPOS.... ummm can we get an airy (one) fictive but liek. as a snow leopard bestial/monster object? expect us 2 be a frequent customer cuz object show yayyy!

Type: Order

Filled by: 🌈Dr. Rainbow (any)

Always remember that headmates won't always turn out exactly as intended!

You may change, remove or add things as needed.

Source: Airy (ONE)

Beastial/monster species: Snow leopard

Name(s): Airy, Abby, Addie, Addison, Adoretta, Alexander, Ally, Amy, Annie, Annabelle, Avery, Breezy, Bree, Brie, Cirrus, Cloudie, Cloude, Calli, Windy, Winnie.

Pronouns: he/him, she/her, they/them, air/airs, sky/skies, clou/clouds, wind/winds, bree/breeze, woo/woosh, chill/chills, cold/colds, snow/snows.

Gender: Genderfluid

Orientation: Demi-aroace pan-oriented

Other labels: POSIC+

Roles/traits: Soother, drowser, assistant.

Plain text: Soother, drowser, assistant. PT end.

Interests: Plushies, dolls and other toys, especially vintage/antique ones, 80s-90s pop and 80s-90s rock.

Hobbies: Sewing, embroidery, repairing torn up fabric things (clothes, plushies, etc), toy collection, making music.

Likes: Learning new fun facts, especially about nature, long walks, soft textures.

Description: Airy is a very relaxed and coolheaded person, bringing the same energy into front in times of need. He is known for being an all-around helper in general, but is particularly attentive to need of rest. Most of her time however is spent on all matters toys, be it researching them, repairing them, or making them! Whenever they have the expendable funds to, they also like to dabble into collecting, especially of vintage toys. Airs collection, which also doubles as their POSIC+ horde is airs pride and joy, as well as biggest comfort. Sky is happy to share skies passion with people, and is drawn to making friends with other people who share that same interest.

Appearance (art free to use/edit with credit):

[justforbooks]

“Feelgood” movies are often thought of as big-hearted romantic comedies, comforting classics, or childhood favourites that still hold up decades later. Guardian writers reflect on their go-to flick, and explain why their pick is endlessly rewatchable.

✔ Defending Your Life Starring: Meryl Streep and Albert Brooks

Directed by: Albert Brooks

Why our writer loves it: “Life-affirming” is perhaps an overused adjective, but few movies have successfully illuminated the human condition as well as this one. Fear is commonplace in our daily lives, but Albert Brooks’s film might hold the key to ridding the worries of anxiety-ridden people such as myself. As the new year often brings about feelings of regret and unease, Defending Your Life is the warmest hug you can receive.” (Oliver Macnaughton)

✔ Notting Hill Starring: Julia Roberts and Hugh Grant

Directed by: Roger Michell

Why our writer loves it: “What is so wonderful about the film is how effortless it all seems. The story isn’t complex; there are no gunfights or CGI raccoons; the greatest jeopardy in the film involves Grant having to catch Roberts before she goes back to America – a problem that reads as plausibly insurmountable in 1999 but today would be remedied with a few WhatsApps. But, despite the illusion of effortlessness, getting everything right in this way is deceptively tricky. Has a single romcom ever managed to marry all of the necessary elements – cast, script, timing, an intangible magic – so perfectly? (No. The answer is no.)” (Ralph Jones)

✔ Married to the Mob Starring: Michelle Pfeiffer and Matthew Modine

Directed by: Jonathan Demme

Why our writer loves it: The movie is a long list of quirky pleasures, including a “starter kit of premium 80s college rock (New Order, Pixies, the Feelies), well-placed family dog reaction shots, and an FBI agent who dresses himself like Wallace in the Wallace & Gromit shorts. Few of the laughs in the film feel like punchlines or payoffs to some heavily orchestrated joke. Demme’s approach is more low-key and breezy, cruising confidently on the assumption that his DayGlo gangland will be fun enough without him having to push too hard. He catches a rhythm and does the mambo Italiano. It feels like your feet never touch the floor.” (Scott Tobias)

✔ Rush Hour Starring: Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker

Directed by: Brett Ratner

Why our writer loves it: “Rush Hour taps into something that stirred my heart then and now: an ease settles into the two actors, Chan and Tucker’s joviality feeling so genuine that the east-meets-west tropes evolve into characters who have something real at stake, and who are also having fun.” (Tammy Tarng)

✔ Father of the Bride Starring: Steve Martin, Diane Keaton and Martin Short

Directed by: Charles Shyer

Why our writer loves it: “Why do I come back to this film again and again? As a girl and younger woman I was emphatically against marriage (though I’ve since softened) and watched it more as a comedy horror than anything aspirational. The only aspect of the Bankses’ life I’d want is the kitchen. And yet watching Franck and the family put on their ridiculous show makes me want to be part of it. I love ritual, and ceremony, and Steve Martin, and Martin Short, and Diane Keaton.” (Laura Snapes)

✔ Diggstown AKA Midnight Sting Starring: James Woods and Louis Gossett Jr

Directed by: Michael Ritchie

Why our writer loves it: “Diggstown is the perfect feelgood movie – a breezy but exciting genre mashup with enough of a hangout vibe that you can have it on in the background, but also enough stakes that you will inevitably end up giving it your full attention.” (Zach Vasquez)

✔ Head of State Starring: Chris Rock and Bernie Mac

Directed by: Chris Rock

Why our writer loves it: “I’ve come back to this film so many times after the election for laughs, only to wind up seeing the whole picture as a clearer allegory for Kamala Harris’s defeat than Obama’s victory. Like Harris, [Chris Rock starring as Mays Gilliam, a small-time politician turned presidential hopeful] was a party sacrifice, offered up to make a certain loss look less bad on the cards, thrown into the fray at the 11th hour, plugged into a humming campaign apparatus, and touted as a history maker. It really makes you think about how close comedy is to horror.” (Andrew Lawrence)

✔ A Knight’s Tale Starring: Heath Ledger, Shannyn Sossamon and Paul Bettany

Directed by: Brian Helgeland

Why our writer loves it: “To me, watching a feelgood film is an intensely nostalgic exercise. That’s because whenever a film is special or timely enough to take up lodging in your heart, rewatching it is also an act of remembering an old version of yourself. A Knight’s Tale is shaded by the genuine sadness of Ledger’s death only seven years after its release, but when I watch it I also remember the way it used to make me feel, as a girl who loved the jousting because her older brother did, all the while secretly cherishing an action film for being so brazenly sentimental.” (Francesca Carington)

✔ Alita: Battle Angel Starring: Rosa Salazar, Christoph Waltz and Jennifer Connelly

Directed by: Robert Rodriguez

Why our writer loves it: “My feelgood movie for when humanity lets me down is Alita: Battle Angel, a movie where much of humanity hangs out in a city-sized junkpile. And though I don’t press play with this aspect particularly in mind, it’s nice to imagine a future where things have gone terribly wrong (that just seems realistic at this point) yet unforeseen triumphs still emerge from the tech-nightmare garbage heap. There are plenty of more time-honored films that take a more direct path to temporary bliss, including sci-fi movies better-equipped to restore faith in humanity.” (Jesse Hassenger)

✔ I Know Where I’m Going! Starring: Wendy Hiller, Roger Livesey, Pamela Brown

Directed by: Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger

Why our writer loves it: ”I Know Where I’m Going! offers up such portentous moments of mystical and romantic significance lightly, alongside comical asides and colourful eccentricity. It’s a disarming strategy, which tends to leave the audience every bit as bewitched as (the film’s main character) Joan. In this corner of the universe, anything might be possible, even an ancient curse.” (Pamela Hutchinson)

What are your ultimate feel good movies❓ I'd love to hear what your favourites are❗

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[mist-see]

Pain

⚠️ Cursing, detailed descriptions of Bella's body, dead beat mother mentioned ⚠️

Where does he go?

Today in a long time was beautiful. Forks was showing its true beauty as the sun shined through the trees and glistened against the water. For the first time in a while, it wasn’t humid or cold, but breezy and warm, maybe if you were lucky you’d have time to go to the beach and get a tan today. I don’t know, maybe even find a lover…wait.

You cringe at the thought, your hand coming to a pause from the math problem. Ugh. The thought makes your stomach acid bubble up with disgust. Then your mind flashes to Embry and hid derpy smile, you stomach suddenly reacting with nervousness. The two of you were meant to hang out later, no members of the pack, no phones, just you and him with the warm water from the beach. If only life was that simple.

It’s been two weeks since Bella and Edward went away on their honeymoon and a week since you’ve had that conversation with Embry. A month since you’ve been in Forks. Summer break was over. During that time you realize you truly couldn’t bring yourself to leave Forks again, you wanted to, to leave to feel the Atlantic air once again, but that deep void of emptiness was terrifying.

To be alone in your dorm, fighting internally with your instincts, fighting yourself for the break up that had you feeling empty every time you were alone at night, sob-less tears trickling down your face as you dreamt. You didn’t need that, you needed your family, you even risked having to share a shower with them again if that meant having someone faithful in your presence.

That’s why you transferred to Peninsula College. Local, close to your new support system. Also, close to your ex-boyfriend's family while he frolics in the wind of whatever he’s at. Ugh.

Someone faithful, huh? That voice spoke in your head just in time as your brother comes out of his room with his motorcycle keys in hand. You watched him as he puts on his worn boots in a semi hurry, quiet, yet you could tell he was loud internally. Where does he go? Jacob didn’t go to school anymore, studying for his GED when he had the chance, and he only worked Fridays to Sundays. And his stone expression says he wasn’t visiting any friends.

Ain’t shit faithful about this damn family, they hid shit from you, betrayed you. I gotta let that go. You sighed, sitting up from your slouched position in hopes to focus on the task at hand. Instead, you hear the opening of the fridge and the fidgeting of the sandwich meat package. “So… where have you been going nowadays.” You asked for the first time since his whole leaving out early and coming back late act. Theirs no way he has a girlfriend.

You watch as he rolls his shoulders back while he makes a quick sandwich, releasing the tense feeling he constantly had. “Just hanging around, you know? So how’s you and Embry?” Changing the subject, and he did it so fast. You’ll let it slide, to focused on your own problems, you couldn’t really care what Jacob was doing in his free time. Except you do, just not today.

Me and Embry? You truly couldn't find the way you arms filled with goosebumps at the mention of his name. You don't even have a crush on him. But why did it feel so good hearing his name? “Well…we’re getting better, speaking more. We’re supposed to go out later once he’s off from work, we’ll see.” As you spoke, Jacob finally faces you with a half-eaten sandwich in his hand while the other one fidgets with his keys. Seems like he doesn’t even want to speak, just trying to get me off his back so he can go handle whatever.

Maybe I’m overthinking.

Jacob's eyes narrowed at this, not knowing how he felt about his best friend coming over, alone, just the two of you. But, he just releases a hot breath from his nose as he eats the rest of the sandwich, hand coming down and wiping it against his jeans. He knew there was nothing he could do, except be the annoying little brother he was meant to be.

You were reading into the silence too much, to your brother it was probably comfortable, but in all honesty, you still couldn’t fully feel comfortable with him. All of this lying and secrets, the only person to trusted was yourself.

But you needed to break the silence so he could go about his day. “You’re really ugly, I keep forgetting we found you under a bridge.” He scoffed, annoyed but smiling, happy you were still you, the annoying big sis he needed.

“Yeah, says the mistress baby, I’m out!” It was your turn to scoff, yours loud and sarcastic. “Huh! Jokes on you, I’m not even offended!” You childishly stuck your tongue out at him, which he mirrors as he walks to the door. Just like that, all of that insecurity you were feeling was gone, all that anger washing away as you play fight with your brother.

“Yeah whatever dog brains, bye!” Before you could clap back, the fragile door slams against its hinges, making you gasp. He ate you up. You cringe in disgust as you hear the bike engine roar to life and slowly fade away. You hated losing arguments with him, never again.

|Jakes Pov|

It felt great today. It was a shame that I’d be spending this day with the Cullens, the only people in Forks who couldn’t even enjoy the sun. Why am I socializing with my enemies? Well… its not that I have much of a choice. She was back.

Bella was back

In the worst possible condition, she could be in. But she wasn’t them, not yet. She was still her.

If I could- if I could just convince her to get rid of it- to save herself, then maybe… maybe she’ll have a chance to be… her.

Or maybe I’m just prolonging the inevitable.

She’s dying. She’s dying from his baby, and there is nothing I can do but sit there and watch the one I fell for wilt away.

Pulling in front of the large White House I couldn’t help but to cringe at the smell once again. A week here and I’m still not used to it, my body constantly reacting negatively.

“Jake!..” I smiled as her soft voice says my name. “Hey, Bells.” My voice was softer as well, so afraid if I raise it I could somehow break her. She was so fragile. Her hair was thinner, her skin, pale with blue undertones, no longer fair with red cheeks. Her eyes were sunken in as if she was getting drained slowly by slowly, but they still held that beautiful light in them, if anything the light was brighter than before. Her body was smaller, skinnier, and delicate as that demon feeds from her, and her lips… her lips were stained red. The only source of color she seemed to have.

“I missed you..” she reaches up for my hand, which I gently, and quickly grabbed to warm her up. “You missed me or you missed your natural heating source?” I grinned as she grinned. “Both,” she laughed, slowly moving over which I was quick to help her do. “Hey, I got it.” I leaned her against me, and I swore I heard edwards marble teeth grind against each other from the far corner.

Speaking of the devil. “Jacob..” I pulled her cold body closer, something in me telling me that he’d take her away. Even if he already has.

But to my surprise when I look over to the man that hurt my best friend, he was glaring at the woods, stone body fidgeting with his hands. “What,” I answered, trying my hardest to act like I didn’t care what he was thinking.

Then he turns towards me and Bella, thick brows turned inwards as if he was thinking long and hard.

Oh, this is serious.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” His voice cracks. It was weird. He was so perfect, he walked perfectly, he talked perfectly, and he dressed perfectly. Yet here he was, slowly breaking down as his world-my world begins to rot and die.

Looking down at Bella, she gives me a small smile before shifting away. The Blondy takes my place, but instead wraps a thicker blanket against her frame. Edward barely spared me a look as we began walking a trail into the woods, by the river so the ones on the inside couldn’t listen in.

“You know… I’d always known you’d destroy her… just not in this way..” I couldn’t help but to bring myself to say it. I’ve been coming here for a week and every time I see her… and see what IT does to her I can’t but hate this freak even more.

Staring longingly at the trees Edward takes a shaky breath, an attempt to get fresh air before slowly turning towards me. “She… she thinks Carlisle can turn her at the last minute,” My back straightens at this.

At this point did I have a choice? It was too late, her body failing her every day, I knew this was coming but I wish I wasn’t going to be there to witness it.

“Like he did for me and Esme.” He finishes.

This time it was me who took in a deep breath, nerves running through me. This could work, it had to. “Well… can he??” I questioned, quickly wanting an answer and not some wordplay.

“It’s… slight.” Bringing my hands up to my face I release an aggressive sigh. I guess I should’ve known that. I mean, look at her.

“Edward… she has to live.”

“And if her heart stops…” he pauses, amber eyes falling into the leaves and dirt as if he’d given up. This isn’t the time to give up. “Go on with it.” My hands drop to my sides, fists clinching, not wanting him to say it, but I wanted him to. Just so he could feel that this was real, that this pain hurts.

“Jacob… do something for me…” I scoffed. How dare he.

“If not for me then for her!” He asserted.

Now I’m listening. Looking back at him I sigh, tilting my head so he’d know to continue.

“You have this… connection to her that I’ll never understand. Maybe you could talk to her, to try… to try to save her,” his lip quivers as if he’s about to cry.

“You could keep her alive.”

Tuh… there was no changing Bella Swan's mind. In the back of my mind… I knew. I knew how this was going to end. But I needed to try.

“And if I can’t?”

“If she dies…” there it was. Edward Masen. His eyes went blank, no light in those stone-cold pupils as he spoke about the maybe death of the love of my life. I almost felt pity for him. But unfortunately, I had months of preparation for this day.

“If she dies,” he repeated as if it was hard to get out. “You get what you always wanted, to kill me.” He shrugs. He shrugs as if it was the simplest thing ever.

“I can’t live without her.”

Walking back into the living room, the first thing I see is a smaller Bella wrapped around a heavy comforter and fuzzy grey socks.

She dismissed blondy-or Rose before I took my seat on the couch in front of her.

“You two besties now?” I try to lift the sour mood from earlier, which she appreciates with a smile. “Rose knows what I want. I guess we have some things in common.” She sighs as if this was the beginning of something great.

“How’s ___?” Ugh… she just had to say it huh? My sister…

I’m betraying her right now, and it hurts.

“Um…”I chew on my lip as I looked down. How can I say this without stressing her out more? “Um, what?… hey… don’t tell me something bad happened... Rose and Alice said they saw her the other day with Leah. Said she looked… different.” She plays with the blanket, a small nervous tic.

“No, no nothing bad… well… ___ is kinda dealing with some wolf hormones right now… and she imprinted on Embry.” Bella smiles her beautiful smile, before settling on a closed-lip one. “Well- I guess I kinda assumed that would happen… she looked different during the wedding. And… tell her I said good luck on the whole imprinting journey… and, and that I’m sorry.” The smile was no longer on her face. She still felt bad about the whole wedding situation.

I didn’t get much information on it, my dad and Sue filled me in once I came back. “I’ll make sure to tell her that… she needs to hear it.”

She does need to hear that… the woman your man cheated on you with, the woman who’s now pregnant with death itself has the balls to apologize… but not me…

I fucking suck.

“So… did Edward send you in here to change my mind?” She grins weakly

“Sort of. Though I’m not sure why, it’s not like you listen to me, you never did.” We both laugh at this. So stubborn.

“What are you thinking bells? Seriously.”

She rests her bony hand on her belly. “I know it seems like a bad thing. Something that… shouldn’t even exist. But it’s not, it’s not scary, it’s beautiful, a baby. He’s a miracle.”

I scoff again, trying my hardest to not say something offensive, or at least try to play it as a joke. “So it’s a bouncing baby boy?- I’m sorry I didn’t know, should’ve brought some blue balloons.”

She grins, shaking her head. “It’s just a guess… I’ve been having dreams about a curly-headed boy. And my dreams are usually real. I guess we’ll see.” I shake my head, elbows now on my knees as I leaned in.

“No… you won’t.”

“Jacob I can do this! I’m strong enough ” She says, hope in her eyes.

I could feel the anger come back to me, the anger I felt when I first saw her bruised belly.

“Tuh- oh come oooon. You can yap that shit to your bloodsucker but you don’t fool me, Bella.” Her brows push together from the cursing.

“I’m not blind Bella, I can SEE what that thing doing to you, that pixie girl said it! She can’t see you anymore, she can’t see you alive!” My voice began to raise, but I couldn’t bring myself to feel bad as I watched her lean backward.

“You’re wrong…” It made me sick at how bright those brown eyes were. She had so much hope that this would work, but my gut, my gut tells me otherwise.

“And when you die… what was it all for? Huh? Me loving you, you loving him, how is that fair? Huh? Tell me Bella how is that right to anyone?” She stayed quiet, the face of mourning on her face. She knew I was leaving slowly.

“Cuz I sure don’t see it.” She begins to tear up, and I feel my heart-shattering. I keep breaking my promise to her. Breathing out I get off the couch and sit on my knees in front of her, gently taking her cold hand that rested on her belly.

“Listen to me, Bella…. Please!” I begged, my eyes getting blurry but I blink away the tears so I can stare right into her eyes. “Just don’t… don’t do this. Live- okay? Screw my emotions, don’t do it for me or Edward. But do it for Charlie! Do it Renée!” She lets out a sob, her lips curling into each other before looking out the window.

“Jake…” that wasn’t fair of me, but life isn’t fair. THIS isn’t fair.

“Everything is going to be okay.”

Even though she heard my words, she refused to listen to them.

Letting out a broken breath, I nodded, eyes going down to glare at the kicking belly before I take my hand away from hers and stand up.

Jake- don’t go!” She sighed, throat too fragile to raise her voice. But I grabbed my jacket before giving her one good look.

“I know how this ends.” I force myself to keep my eyes on hers, but they found their way back to her stomach. “I’m not sticking around to watch.”

And so I walked off.

Walking past Rose, past Edward, and past Carlisle until I reached my motorcycle.

All that anger I was storing from her came back. I couldn’t even bring myself to start up the engine before I threw the leather jacket against the gravel and kicked the machine against the trees.

Then I felt that heat again. That burning heat that I grew to admire.

I felt myself rip out my skin and run into the woods, the burning lasting a fraction of a second before I howled out.

“Jake?” ___ called out

“Jacob, what’s wrong?” No, no no no Seth shut up, I tried whipping my head, trying to force the images of Bella sitting there half dead, of her bruised stomach from a week ago, of Edward asking me to kill him. Of me begging, pleading with her to give her life another chance. And the soft voice of Bella trying to call me back.

Visions in my head and voices in my ears, I didn’t notice the car suddenly swerving to the side to come to a stop. But I didn’t give them a chance to let them look as I hopped back into the woods.

I howled once more, calling for the pack, just hoping that there was a way for them to help

“Jake??”

“Jake!”

“Jacob what going on??”

“Jake this can’t be real”

We all run to the meeting spot, at the peer where the trees lay for construction.

“Is it true Jacob?” Paul asked lips coming over his teeth as he circled me. “It’s growing fast,” he says again, the others coming behind me.

Leah gets there with Seth, her voice louder than the others, “It’s unnatural!” “Dangerous!” Jared's voice yelled after hers. “An abomination!” Paul growls, causing me to bare my teeth in defense, but Quil was quick to choose his side. “We can’t have that thing on our land!”

“We can’t allow it!” They repeated as they circled me.

“She’s pregnant…”

___…

|___ pov|

Everyone turns to face you. And for the first time in a while, you felt like a kicked dog. The flashes of Bella and her bruised protruding belly as she sat there pale. Her voice echoed and meshed with Edwards. Then his lone voice whispered, “If she dies, you get what you’ve always wanted, to kill me.”

Whimpering, your ears press to the back of your head, feet taking a step backward. “Y/n..” Embry walks up to you, feeling your hurt

He got her pregnant. After you thought that pain was away, it was back, and it was fresh. So fresh you felt your heart bleeding.

Then a throaty bark sounded from above us. Sam.

“We have to protect the tribe. We come first, Forks is always first!” You huff out from your snout, your sides instantly warmer as you felt Seth and Embry get closer to you.

“Once that thing is born it won’t be able to control its thirst!”

“We’re ready!” Jared announced

“No time to waste. Let’s go!” This time it was Leah, making you peel back your lip in a growl.

“Let’s think this through!” Your voice echoes in their heads, Leah, the first one to approach you. “Absolutely not! ___, remember what they’ve done to you! You got hurt by those bloodsuckers! They deserve it!” Not like this.. not like this.

They don’t need to hurt like this.

“Right now?!” Jacob steps up to Sam, his ears twitching back

“We have to get rid of it before it’s born.”

Oh god…

“You mean… kill Bella?” Seth steps beside Jacob, which you get in front of him just in case Sam had the thought of putting the younger in his place.

“Seth…”

“Her choice affects all of us!” A growl is released from your throat, a sign which Sam takes as disrespect. His brown eyes flick toward you.

“What do you have to say?”

“Sam don’t do this!”

Embry speaks up, approaching you, only to get shut down with a bark from Sam.

“I won’t be a part of this! Me and my brother won’t do it!” It was time to act like a big sibling, your big body pushing Jacobs over so he wouldn’t get hurt.

“You, are nothing but a lost puppy. You don’t get to say anything!” He barks, but you didn’t flench like the others around you. You were good at taking disrespect you just recently found out. But you still felt it, the need to bow down and obey the alpha, you just couldn’t do it.

“Bella’s human!” Jacob cuts in, trying to get the attention back to himself. “Our protection applies to her!”

“She’s dying anyways!” Leah snaps her teeth, digging them into the fat of jacobs neck. Oh fuck no.

That friendship meant shit to you if she disrespects your brother in front of you. You moved faster, clenching your jaw down into her neck to pull her off of him. “Don’t touch him!” You seethed, wide tongue coming out to lick your teeth. Leah’s ears press against her head as it ducks down in submission

Being older only gets you some places. But being Ephraim Black's great-granddaughter gave you the advantage. You were supposed to be the Alpha. And the others were realizing it.

“Enough!” You gave the girl one last growl before whipping your head back to Sam

“We have real enemies to fight tonight!” He starts coming down the tower of logs, making his way toward you and your brother.

“Tonight?!” You and Jakes voice sync, Seth’s whine catching your brother’s attention. But you didn’t dare take your eyes away from Sams.

“You will fight with us. The both of you.” He commands, causing you both to step back. “Jacob don’t you fucking listen to this old bitch.” You growl, head ducking down, which Sam snips at you, teeth almost coming closed on your snout before you backed up just in time.

You snarl at him, Jake doing the same thing. It was only for a few seconds before you finally made up your mind.

You were leaving.

You had to.

“I won’t! I will not sit here and go kill my best friend and her child! I am the granddaughter of Ephraim Black!

“And I am the grandson of Ephraim Black!

“We aren’t meant to take orders from you Sam Uley. I wasn’t born to follow you or anyone else. But I will follow my brother. Because we know what’s right! And this shit ain’t right!”

“___!” Embry yelled out, knowing what you were going to do.

You ignored him, you had to. ”I’m out!” You bark, teeth on display as you bump into Sam, and went up the logs.

Fuck them. I don’t need them.

“So, you choose your little brother instead huh?”

You send him a glare before focusing your eyes on the White House in front of you, the Cullens house. “Okay… I deserve that. I betrayed you, your trust… I deserve this.”

Boy, fuck you.

“I betrayed my imprint. My friends… but I do this because know what's right and what's wrong... And this shit is wrong.” I shake my head, heart heavy with what felt like grief when I bring up embry.

We never got to hang out together. Will we ever? Now that I broke my bond with that pack, we’ll see each other less, and it’ll hurt like hell.

“Garcelle called today.”

Jacob whips his head toward me with wide eyes, but he couldn’t get anything out as the trees move behind us. A boy with a tilted smile comes out, letting you release a sigh.

“Seth.” You and your brother say at the same time, making you roll your eyes.

“Kid, what are you doing here?” You asked, eyes immediately searching your perimeter for any more movement. “Don’t worry! No one followed.” He smiles brightly

“Go home, Seth.” Your brother rolled his eyes. “No! I can’t, I won’t stand behind him! I like Bella and Edward!”

“Oh yes, you will! I’m not kidding, get outta here.” Jacob talks back, arms coming across his chest. Seth's mouth forms into a pout, a sigh coming from his nose. “Or what? Is that an order? You gonna make me bow down to?” Jake rolled his eyes once again, an attitude deep in his roots. You keep having to remind yourself that he is just a kid himself, barely 17.

“I’m not ordering anyone. It’s not like I can… ___ is the alpha.” Seth gasps and faces me, but I keep my eyes on the White House in front of me. “Don’t put me in this.”

“Can I stay? Please??” You closed your eyes with a groan.

Seth was just a kid, not knowing the sacrifices he was going to make during this.

“Seth- are you willing to fight your friends-your sister if it comes down to it? Huh?” You weren't going to say no to him, but he needs to know what the hell is real and what’s not.

But he was ready, a determined look on his face as he gives you a nod. “If that’s what it takes to do the right thing.” You give Jacob a look, and he shrugs. “Fine… you’re in.”

“Woo! Hell yeah!”

“Language.”

“Yup! Can do.”

“Jake, go give the Cullens a heads up. I’m going to run the perimeter.” This was just an excuse for you to not see Edward. You haven’t seen him since the wedding and honestly, you’ll force yourself to keep it that way.

“Right-wait! Take him.” Your younger brother points to the young boy. Grinning you shake your head. “Whatever. Come one kid.”

Tag list:

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@delvira-only-baby

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Part 5 <<<<<<<

Part 7>>>>>>>