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randomshyperson · 1 year ago

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Heal - Scarlet!Wanda x Vampire!Reader - Kinktober #08

Summary: By freeing an imprisoned immortal from the Darkhold Castle, the Scarlet Witch did not expect to gain a friend who would help her heal the woman she tried to bury in the temple's wreckage. In return, Wanda might help you face the demons from your past that were locked away with you.

Warnings: (+18), service!top reader, praising, intimate smut, blood-feeding, vampire and witchcraft lore, and a lot of plot, implied depression and self-harming tendencies, really soft smut with explicit consent, mutual pining, friends to lovers | Words: 9.671k

A/N-> My only vampire reference is TVD, so expect many similarities to the show’s lore. And I repeat again that there is a sinful lack of stories that deal with the status of wizarding royalty of which Wanda is part. Please, she literally has the title of Queen of Chaos, her family has inherited the magic of chaos for generations, we need to talk about this. I hope you guys like this one, this story ended up having more depth than I expected and it was quite fun to write it.

General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

After destroying a thousand-year-old castle and not getting out of the impact zone, Wanda definitely didn't expect comfort. In addition to the pain of recent events, from realizing that she had finally become a villain, and was closer to the people who had destroyed her life than to the friends she once lost, she also had to see the clear fear in the alternative versions of the children she missed. So she put an end to it all, more tired than anything, and waited for the pain to go away. The blackout from the impact put an end to it, of course, and just like years before when she turned to dust after losing the only person she still had left, she breathed a sigh of relief into the darkness.

But Wanda woke up. And to her complete surprise, comfort came in the softest sheets she had ever felt, perhaps even more comforting than the expensive cloth Tony Stark had once bought for the rooms in Avengers Tower. The bed she was lying on could easily have been mistaken for royalty, and Wanda barely had time to become alert before a slightly unfamiliar face entered her field of vision.

"You." She gasped in surprise, her voice a little hoarse. Now conscious, she was aware of the pain around her body, but she could also feel her magic doing the hard work and taking the sensation away. You smiled gently and, without leaving your sitting position on her bed, waited for her to adjust to the mattress. Wanda frowned. "But why?"

You sighed, shrugging slightly. Now sitting up, Wanda realized that your lap wasn't empty. A breakfast tray was waiting for her as if you were aware that she would wake up soon and had brought the food just in time. The item was leisurely placed next to her, but Wanda continued to look at you, waiting for an explanation as to why someone who had disappeared almost the second after the first meet, reappeared to save her from the wreckage of her mistakes.

"I know you're confused, but please eat. You've slept for days, miss." It's your comment, but the witch shakes her head.

"Don't worry about it. It's... nowhere near the longest I've gone without food." The quiet confession about the period of darkhold abuse makes you sigh sadly, and Wanda feels a curiosity rise in her chest. You don't know her, so why do you care?

Your hands move to the toast you've prepared for her, and Wanda bites the inside of her cheek as she finally notices the tray with your movements. Your breakfast choices are just right - delicious foods stare back at her. And you busy yourself with adding some jam to the toast that makes Wanda's mouth water.

"Forgive me for taking so long to find you, I was a bit overwhelmed upon returning after so long." You then declare, handing back the now-filled toast to one of the smaller plates. You push the item towards her as an invitation, but Wanda glares at you.

"Why did you bother coming back?"

Your eyes are kind in her direction. "I owe you my freedom."

Wanda chuckles short and incredulously. "Don't be ridiculous, I didn't even know what I was doing." She retorts immediately. "I saved you by accident, you don't owe me anything."

But you gesture to the food, and Wanda sighs in defeat, finally giving in. At the first bite, she feels the delicious jam on her tongue and sighs in satisfaction. It's amazing, she lets you know. You smile.

"It doesn't matter if our meeting was accidental, Wanda Maximoff." You state. "Your magic broke me out of my prison. If the idea of a debt doesn't please you, we can act as if upon rescuing you, I made us even."

Wanda hums with her mouth full, slightly distracted by the food. You look away, waiting for a moment, and she finishes chewing before speaking again.

"I didn't want to be rescued."

"I know."

She looks at you again, but you continue to stare straight ahead into the room. "Do you?"

You smile briefly. "Nobody who wants to live knocks down a castle on their head, miss."

The chuckle that escapes her is short, but it's the first sincere one in a long time. It's so dark, to joke about something so serious, yet she feels completely at ease doing it with you.

Wanda finishes another piece of toast before speaking again. "Do you remember the sorcerer who was with me before, when I freed you?" You meet her gaze, nodding in agreement. Wanda looks at you curiously. "He nearly shit his pants when he saw you running away from the temple. He tried to lecture me about it, and I dragged him out of there for it. But the point is... what did you do? He only told me your name. What was so terrible that your escape scared him so much?"

You sigh, getting up. Wanda imagines that she has offended you by asking and that you will leave without telling her the whole truth, and considers spying on your mind to find that out, but you just walk to the nearest drawers on the other side of the bedroom. When you return with an object in hand, Wanda wipes away the toast crumbs before accepting the item you hand her.

The old photograph makes her eyes widen. "Holy shit." She sighs impressed, getting a short laugh out of you. Your picture wasn't a surprise, but the date from over three hundred years ago faded by the bottom. Wanda flipped the item to see the back, but your name there didn’t really explain how you were standing in front of her, as if no time had passed.

"Humans call us Vampires, but I've always liked the sound of Immortal better. Of course, the term vampire beats being called a demon or a bloodsucker." Wanda doesn't laugh at the joke, as she raises wide eyes in surprise at you. She continues to hold up the photograph, and you swallow. "I promise I won't try to harm you." Finally, she chuckles softly. You sigh in reassurance, even though the witch has just mocked your strength.

"I can't believe vampires exist."

"Said the witch who traveled through the multiverse a few days ago." Wanda smiles, handing the photograph back to you.

"Fair point." She murmurs. Restless, you wonder what you can do to improve her mood. She seems so sad.

Perhaps your stories could distract her.

"I was imprisoned in Darkhold Castle a few centuries ago." You tell her, attracting her curiosity again. Your hands go into your pockets so that you can regain some ground over the full attention of such beautiful and mesmerizing irises. "There are other mystical authorities, apart from Kamar-Taj and its mages. In particular, a council of vampires. I disagreed with some traditions and was sentenced to imprisonment, but my capture was not quiet. Let's just say I earned that tomb you rescued me from, Miss." Wanda nodded in understanding, offering a small smile that ensured she wasn't judging you. It would be comical to do so, after everything that had led up to this moment. Adding to the count of her own crimes, she apparently unleashed an immortal mass murderer.

Wanda looks around, sighing softly. "I presume this place is yours."

You nod but look away from her. "Many of my properties were lost with my imprisonment. Taken back by the Council, or even stolen by other creatures. I'll deal with these usurpers later." The comment made Wanda bite the corner of her mouth. She'd never seen a vampire fight, and you seemed so sure of your own strength over anyone who stood up to you. It was attractive somehow. She pushed the thought away faster than it came. "Of course, you're welcome to stay as long as you need, even if I'm not around."

The statement makes Wanda chuckle in surprise, her cheeks slightly warm. "What? I can’t accept that. I will certainly not abuse hospitality-"

"Don't be ridiculous." You repeat her previous words with an easy smile, and the casual comment sounds different from your formal attitude so far that It's so charming that Wanda has to look away awkwardly, surprised by her own perceptions. "It's a pleasure to have you as a guest. And honestly, it's nice to have someone around after so long." The sincere confession makes her smile. Wanda understood loneliness well. You sigh. "There's enough room in this house. You can stay as long as you need."

Wanda nods. "How exactly did you get me here? And where is here exactly?"

"Northern Europe, but I'm not sure if the country's name remained the same as it was three centuries ago. And I didn't want to carry you so far from the castle, and I figured you didn't intend to return to Nepal and their Kamar Taj’s mages as well."

Wanda grimaces. "What do you mean with ‘carry me’?"

You chuckle slightly. "You were unconscious, Miss Maximoff. And buried under rubble when I found you. We don't have the same magical abilities, so I can’t use the power of the mind to move objects or people. I picked you up, and brought you with me."

She needs to see this, and the invasion in your mind caught you off guard. Flashes of memories turn clear in your head, your figure pushing rocks out of the way until you find Wanda unconscious. You actually picked her up in your arms and started moving. At some point, you found a car, but good kilometers on the ice at high speed were walked.

Wanda leaves your mind with a sigh, and for the first time, you look upset.

"Please ask next time."

She's still coming to terms with the fact that you ran through the snow with her in your arms to apologize. "You walked half a continent for me?"

You shrug. "I ran, to be fair. Don't worry about that, it wasn't any trouble. My kind has enough strength and speed for a journey like that."

But the ease didn't detract from the significance of the attitude. Wanda could hardly remember the last time anyone had done anything for her - not even Vision, who was her partner, seemed to share any guilt when signing accords that wanted her in jail; And now a stranger was rescuing her at the end of the world just to bring her to safety, without expecting anything in return.

Her silence makes you clear your throat. "I'll give you some privacy. There's more food if you want it, and this is a suite, so the toilet is through that door. I've also taken the liberty of ordering clothes in your size while you’ve been asleep, they're all in the closet. The whole property can be explored, please feel free to do so. There’s a library and art rooms. And please, if you decide to leave, say farewell first."

Wanda smiles tenderly at your request, and you turn away. She finally realizes that you look very tidy, and calls out to you before you can leave the room.

"Are you going out?"

"Just for a few hours." You answer, frowning at the way her expression falls. "Is something wrong?"

Wanda sighs. "I just… don’t wanna be alone."

Despite the sympathy in your eyes, you hesitate. A hand on the doorframe. "Forgive me, miss, I promise I won't be long and that we can spend the rest of the day together."

Wanda waves your concern away, starting to stand up. "Relax, I'll be fine, I wouldn't want to get in the way of your appointments. I'll explore the house while you're gone."

But despite her casual attitude, you call out to her with a certain seriousness that makes Wanda look at you again. There's something in your expression that makes it clear that you didn't buy Wanda's act at all, and that you can clearly see that she was being serious about her loneliness. Your eyes had a guilty aspect because you couldn't stay.

You sigh, looking away as you explain: "I must feed myself, Miss Maximoff. Please don't think I'm avoiding your company."

She is slightly surprised by the confession and doesn't know exactly what to say about it. She decides to just nod, without the courage to question you further on the subject even though she's dying to know exactly in which way you're going to feed yourself.

And when you leave her alone, and she wanders around the huge rooms of that mansion, she can't help wondering where you are, if it's like in vampire stories, and you're in some alley cornering an unwary human, or if hunting animals is enough. She becomes so absorbed in her own doubts that when you return, she hasn't even finished seeing the whole place.

"Having fun?" Your question startles her slightly. She smiles, turning her attention away from the art paintings in the room and meeting your gaze again.

"You move silently."

"A talent we share."

Wanda chuckles and waits for you to approach her completely. Side by side, she is the first to speak.

"Everything here is very beautiful." She says softly. "And I may not be centuries old, but I'm no fool. It sounds too good to be true. Be honest, Y/N. What do you hope to get from me?"

You frown, taking one hand out of your pocket to gesture a little. "You have a suspicious nature, Miss Maximoff."

She snorts softly." Y/N..."

But you smile, and Wanda gasps softly because your hand moves to her face, a gentle touch to move a strand of hair out of the way of her eyes. "Not everyone wants to take something from you, Miss. Some people just want to give." Wanda ignores the intensity of your gaze, the quickening of her heartbeat, and raises her hand to grab your wrist and interrupt your intention to stroke her cheek straight away. Her eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion in your direction, although your smile never falters. "I could just force you to talk."

"There's no need for that, we can talk over dinner."

She hesitates, aware of the heat on her cheeks. You seem to have a personal victory and Wanda lets go of your hand immediately.

"Wipe that smile off your face, it's not... that kind of dinner. We don't even know each other." She mutters embarrassedly. You return to your previous position, relaxed with your hands in the pockets of your dress pants and Wanda crosses her arms annoyed at the way her stupid brain keeps finding you more attractive every time she looks at you.

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it, miss." You retort humorously. "It's a strictly professional dinner."

She rolls her eyes, turning away to hide her smile from you.

"Just introduce me to the rest of the house."

"It's funny, all witches are always bossy." You comment, letting her gently pat your shoulder even though you could easily escape the gesture if you wanted to.

-&-

"I didn't know vampires cooked."

You chuckle, without taking your eyes off the knife cutting the vegetables. "Have you met many vampires?"

Wanda bites back a smile, rolling her eyes softly. "No, you're the first." She says, watching from the counter stool as you masterfully prepare dinner. "But I thought you guys didn't need to eat."

"We don't, not food at least." You retort gently, even though the implication makes Wanda's eyes sparkle with curiosity. You, despite being busy preparing the meal, notice the slight excitement and give a soft laugh. "If wished, my body can imitate all the biological functions it had before I died. This includes food." To illustrate, you take one of the cut pieces of carrot into your mouth, chewing and swallowing as you finish chopping the vegetables. Wanda bites the inside of her cheek, gathering the courage to ask you what she wishes to know.

When you pour the cut vegetables into a pot, she clears her throat. "Would it be insensitive if I asked how it happened?"

"Very." You smile back. Wanda sighs slightly, feeling like a little child trying to be liked.

Please, please, notice me and talk to me.

The fire is lit, you wash off the excess vegetable stock and wipe your hands on a tea towel. You speak again.

"It's 2024, which means that in the winter it will be 320 years since my transformation." You begin a little nostalgically, your hands resting on the counter behind you. "Twenty was the age at which I died."

Wanda frowns. "You were so young."

"Yes, I was." You agree with a sad smile. "I used to work here, right in this mansion." Wanda adjusts herself, curiosity taking over completely. "I was raised by this family all my life, and when I fell ill, they decided there was no longer any place for me here."

The witch swallows dryly but doesn't interrupt your story. You look down, bringing your hands in front of your stomach to turn the larger ring you're wearing between your fingers.

"Sick servants would be sent away, so as not to spread the disease to the rest of the house. I died on the road."

Wanda frowns slightly. "Who bit you?"

"Bit me?" You retort in confusion.

She chuckles awkwardly. "Yes, that's how it works, isn't it? Vampires bite humans and turn them."

It's your turn to laugh, a little impressed. "What? No, by the gods! Imagine how many of us there would be out there if every time a vampire fed, he turned someone? No, no, it's a bit more complicated." You comment casually. "You see, there's an immortality spell, created by the same author of the book that was with you when we met. Original vampires are made by ancient magic, and these can have bloodlines. Weaker vampires are transformed by their blood. And others can be created, even weaker by their descendants. The trick is to die with magical blood in your system so that your soul will be trapped by the magic and will not leave your body. It is then reanimated a few hours after we die. To complete the transformation, we must feed."

She absorbs your words for a moment. Until she finally asks: "Who transformed you?"

You lick your lips, shifting your eyes to the pot as if to confirm the cooking time, before turning away from the counter. "Come with me, I want to show you something."

She follows you around the mansion, way past the kitchen to another level. The entrance hall extends into a long corridor with many old paintings. Finally silver doors at the end.

"This is the main suite of the mansion." You clarify, fiddling with a bunch of keys kept in your pocket until now. Apparently, the only locked room was that one. "It's been adapted, moved from the upper floor to here on the lower level since, at the end of her life, the owner couldn't take the stairs."

Once unlocked, you push the doors open with both hands, exposing the immense royal suite inside. Wanda thinks it looks a lot like fantasy books and is busy admiring the decorations when she comes across a painting on the wall that knocks the air out of her lungs.

"What...?" She approached with uncertain steps until she was touching the painting with her fingers, groping for the drawing of a face that could easily be mistaken for her own. "How is that possible?" She demanded to know, turning to you.

You were still standing in the doorway, your hands in your pockets. "This is your ancestor."

"And why the hell does she have my face?"

"Heritage?" You retort good-humoredly, but Wanda snorts incredulously, advancing towards you angrily. You quickly raise your hands in surrender, a nervous laugh escaping as you see the fury in her eyes. “I’m joking, dear lord! I didn't mean to upset you. Let me tell you the whole story!."

"It better be a very good one." She retorts, watching you intently as if expecting a kidnap attempt.

You sigh, nodding before turning your face to the photo. "Her name was Elizabeth. She's gone if that's not obvious. This painting was done over four centuries years ago when your family was still known as the Maksymovs. They lived well, your ancestors, as you can see from the amount of gold in this manor. But sorcery and witchcraft were never very well-liked anywhere, and just like the rest of us, your family was hunted down." You say, stepping aside to open the curtains and light up the room. Still, on your back, you continued to talk. "I was just a little girl when Lady Maksymov took me in, Elizabeth’s mother. I cleaned and cooked, and I was lucky enough to be allowed inside the mansion. To share the room with the family. All due respect to their memories, but my Lady was not a decent person. She was cruel and harsh and preferred to die on the mountain of money than give a little to the children she watched depart for this place. I stayed here because I had no other choice in life, and when the neighbors began to question what she was doing in the basement, she was taken away just like her children. And unlike her mother or any of her siblings, Elizabeth was not a very talented witch. Her magic was dormant. That poor woman, always so sad under the cruelties shouted at her by her relatives. She could never master chaos but it got better when she gave in to the darkhold's allure. Unfortunately for the servants, her gentle personality was gone once her magic control was improved. I remember her dark fingers chastising me every time I failed to fold the sheets correctly."

Wanda swallowed at the anger hidden. Your posture was enough for her to believe your words.

“Why did she turn you?”

You smile sadly. "I was just a means to an end." You reply. "Elizabeth was what they called a Siphoner. Although descended from a powerful witch lineage, she couldn't generate her own magic. She could only steal it from elsewhere, either from a magic book or from a vampire."

Wanda sighs as she understands, and you chuckle in upset. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You weren't even close to existing back then."

She moves closer. "Still, on behalf of my family, I'm sorry." The witch says as gently as she can. "I can hardly imagine how painful that probably was."

You shrug, trying to be casual. "That was a long time ago, Miss Maximoff." You mumble before sighing. "And it didn't work out the way she wanted either. Elizabeth didn't intend to use me as her magical reservoir for so long. She wanted me to transform her. Make her a heretic, a vampire-witch hybrid so that she could steal magic from her own nature. And like a good servant, I did just that."

Wanda could feel the force of your painful memories with her telekinesis, flashes of vivid images in your mind begging to be relieved. A personal torture.

"Let me guess, that was the rule you broke that put you in that tomb."

You lower your head, looking very upset all of a sudden. "No, Miss Maximoff. I was loyal until I wasn't anymore." Wanda frowns in confusion, but you sigh and stare at your own reflection in the window. "The abuse of the Darkhold destroyed Lady Elizabeth. Not even the spell of immortality could heal her, remove the rot from her soul. We traveled the world, searching for potions and creatures and anything we could find to help her, but I knew that the slaughter she was doing in the name of her own health had to be stopped. When our last trip ended, I told her I wouldn't help her anymore."

Wanda can see clearly now; the wrathful recollections of a witchy lady with an almost demonic appearance. The hold of the Darkhold on Elizabeth's soul. How you're only trying to defend yourself when you strike back.

You sniffle, turning your face away, and Wanda blocks your memories from her mind immediately.

"No greater dishonor than ingratitude." You mutter. "I shouldn't have turned my back on Elizabeth. She died alone in this empty mansion, taken by her illness. I returned to a rotten land wracked by dark magic. I restored every stone and raised the mansion to its original state. I lived as a vampire for a decade before I was captured. Elizabeth, in her last vengeful act, left a letter denouncing all her family's crimes to the magical authorities of the time. A lineage who survived the witch-hunts, chased by their own kind like animals. I wore the same coat of arms and slept in the family mansion, so they didn't care that my surname wasn't the same. But I wasn't a witch to die, and the darkhold refused to show the executors exactly how to kill me. The solution was a prison."

You're surprised that Wanda reaches for your hand, but you don't pull away. She also gives you a small smile.

"Three hundred years is too long to punish someone who had no choice." She says, the gesture of her thumb caressing your palm making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Definitely too long without touching someone was messing with your head. Little did you know, Wanda was going through something quite similar. Starved for physical touch. "Is that why you're being so generous? Do you think you owe this family a debt?" You swallow, nodding, and Wanda sighs. " Sweetheart..."

"Please let me serve you." Your tone is almost desperate, Wanda shakes her head. "Please-"

"This isn't the 1700s, Y/N. I won't be your lady." She assures you, her grip tighter. "You're a person, not a property."

"I'd be dead if it weren't for Elizabeth-"

"She was cruel and selfish, and she used you to your last breath. And beyond!" Wanda interrupts, not losing her composure when you huff impatiently and pull your hand away. "You can grumble all you want. I'm not going to honor the memory of some slave owner, family or not. You're free to go."

"But I don't want to leave, Wanda." You snap, almost pleading. "This is my home. Serving your family has always been... my purpose. Turning my back on it made me lose everything. And then you saved me, and for a second, I thought I could see Elizabeth again. I ran to this place, and I realized how much time had actually gone by." You sniffle, your hands going to Wanda's shoulders. "Please. Caring is the only thing I know how to do right."

Wanda sighs, her hands finding your wrists. "This isn't caring, Y/N, this is servitude. I would never ask this of you." Your expression falls as if you're being rejected. Wanda stops your hands from moving away. "But I could use a friend."

Your face lights up, and Wanda smiles too because she thinks you look so beautiful now. "Oh, that... is really very sweet. I'd be honored."

The witch chuckles. "You're adorable. Come, our lunch should be ready soon." She doesn't mention that you two walk into the kitchen hand in hand, and you don't mind, so you don't say anything either.

-&-

"I can't believe you don't know what McDonald's is."

"And I can't believe you've never been to the Opera, but here we are."

Wanda chuckles, shaking her head in disbelief at your response. You're sitting on the living room floor, or rather on cushions on the carpet because you refused to sit so informally and she was still working on getting you to relax into the casual way of living life in that century.

Weeks into a roommate routine, your activities consisted of having meals together and talking about everything and nothing at the same time. You'd spent 300 years imprisoned, and Wanda had a multitude of things to introduce you to, while you'd been raised by the ancient witch family of the ancestors of a woman who knew little about her origins. You had as much to tell as she did.

Most days when you two would leave the Mansion, you would experience things that you had never experienced before. Restaurants, food trucks, and even the invention of cars or electricity. The Mansion needed to be restored too, but Wanda was happy to know that it hadn't been abandoned.

It was magically hidden, and she had distant cousins from very old marriages in her distant line. It was one of the best pieces of news she'd ever received - to know that she wasn't the only Maximoff left.

The Manor had been cared for over the centuries by escape witches, some of whom, like Elizabeth, had their powers dormant and lived normal lives under that roof. Until the place was finally inherited by her great-aunt, Tatiana, who was living in New Orleans, and Wanda would visit once the work on the mansion was finished.

She had no idea where you got the money for a whole restoration team, and you laughed when she asked, offering as an answer only the information that vampires can persuade people.

That's how you ended up on the living room floor, finishing gathering old belongings that needed to be protected from the paint restoration and set-up of that chamber.

"It's nice that some things have been preserved so well." She comments, stealing a quick glance at your figure distracted by sorting letters. You look good in this century's clothes that Wanda helped you pick out. The barely buttoned plaid shirt makes Wanda hold her breath every time she catches herself letting her gaze fall to your collarbone.

"Rich families often treasure stuff." You retort with an easy smile. You stack a few letters before opening the next box of items and gasp slightly when you find something very valuable inside. "Look, I think you'll want to keep this."

The small item is placed in her palm: A gold button with an "M" engraved on it. The family crest. Wanda doesn't know why, but it makes her eyes water, and she gives you a tearful smile as she thanks you.

But despite this balanced relationship and pleasant routine, there was still the elephant in the room.

Every evening, you went out to feed yourself. For almost two months, Wanda didn't ask any questions. Even though she was dying to know exactly how, or even who.

But she didn't want to be invasive or even sound like someone obsessed with your fangs.

She would wait for some casual moment to bring up the subject. Perhaps at the next dinner party, with a joke, and then she would ask if you could show her how it was done.

Luckily for her, another witch was even more interested in the story.

Tatiana was an expert enchantress. She lived in an apartment in the heart of New Orleans and had a very busy pub, and to no surprise, frequented mainly by mystical beings. It was Wanda's first time in a place of that kind.

She was so excited to meet another member of her family that she almost forgot her last worries. It was her aunt, in between many colorful drinks after an afternoon of introduction, who brought up the subject again.

"So tell me, sweetie, all this work to restore the Maximoff household. It must be exhausting even for a vampire." Tatiana began with a smile. Her curly hair fell in waves down her back, and for the third time that night, Wanda noticed that green eyes were probably the only physical feature that most of the Maximoff women shared. Her aunt has a dangerous smirk on her lips as she looks in your direction, and Wanda swallows dryly as she realizes that it's the flirtatious kind. "We allow feeding in these parts."

You're taken aback. You chuckle awkwardly, aware of the two witches' attention in your direction. The crowded bar seems to get even smaller.

"I'm fine, Tatiana, don't worry." Wanda thinks you're lying. You can never maintain eye contact when you do, and she also often finds it charming how a vampire can be so bad at telling lies. "I had some blood before I got here-"

"By Morgana, that was several hours ago!" Tatiana cuts in, gesturing excitedly to the waiters. She was very happy to meet Wanda too and had been drinking since early morning in celebration. "You know, I used to date a vampire back in the last century. He had a restricted diet of animals and always looked pale and hungry. Are you one of those vegetarian vampires too?"

The question is rhetorical, she doesn't even hear your confused mutter "I don't think vegetarianism works like that". She's busy with the waitress, whose irises redden as soon as Tatiana speaks to her. The girl is younger than everyone else there and is clearly bewitched.

"There you go, dear, you can have a taste." Offers the woman, to which you choke in surprise.

"What? H-here? But..."

"Now, don't you act like a good Samaritan, Miss L/N." Tatiana retorts in a provocative tone, resting her chin on one hand. "I know what you got up to before you were imprisoned. Feeding off a waitress is nothing."

You're immediately crestfallen, your face flushing with shame. Wanda looks at her aunt with irritation.

"Don't talk to her like that." The younger witch says sternly. "'She's already received enough of a punishment.

Tatiana chuckles wickedly, tilting her head gently. A very familiar gesture indeed. "Let's get a few things clear, Wanda. The only reason I didn't rip that usurper vampire's head off the moment she set foot in my town was because she brought my niece back to me. The fighting separated our families, I never knew I had nephews. Do you think you would have joined that group of dressed-up Americans if I'd known you were a genuine Maximoff? No, dear, I would have raised you. Restored our coven, taught you magic, as it should have been. As it would have been if this ungrateful little blood-sucker had fulfilled the role she was given. Every spell has a price, and she didn't pay for this one she so boldly displayed for a decade of fortune-raising."

"I regret it very deeply, miss-"

"No, you don't apologize for any of this." Wanda interrupts you with a gentle squeeze on your wrist under the table. With a serious expression, she faces her aunt. "Let's actually get things straight, Auntie. You don't talk to her like that. Ever. You're not going to use something that happened three centuries ago against someone who has spent all this time imprisoned in a tomb, paying for crimes she didn't commit alone. It seems that witches, especially from this family, have a habit of evading accountability. I know that well." Tatiana gives a little smile, clearly aware of Westview, or what came after. Wanda doesn't hesitate. "She's my friend. And she's been through enough. All she's done since she came back is look after me, and I'm not going to accept this kind of treatment from anyone, not even my blood. And considering history, especially my blood."

Without contradicting, Tatiana nods in understanding, busying herself with lighting one of the cigarettes on the corner of the table. The colorful smoke wafted upwards as she finished a long drag.

"As you please, Scarlet Witch." The elder woman finally replies, and you swallow dryly, stealing a glance at Wanda to see if she might lose her temper at the slight challenge in her aunt's tone.

Damn, you'd forgotten how the Maximoffs had a rather dangerously weak ego to offend, especially if challenged.

But luckily for you, Wanda forced a smile, and the tension at the table eased. Tatiana dismissed the waiter with a nod and went back to talking about business in the city as if nothing had happened.

For the rest of the evening, Wanda drew patterns on the palm of your hand under the table.

-&-

Around midnight, when the desserts were finished but the bar seemed livelier than ever, you felt really hungry.

The witches were engaged in animated conversation about the times in Sokovia, how Tatiana missed the opportunity to find out about the Maximoffs after the surname grew more common around the country for a few years before disappearing again, and you used the opportunity to escape for a few moments.

A quick snack, just to satisfy your hunger. After all, you always kept yourself full around Wanda; you'd never forgive yourself if you lost control around her.

You make your way through the crowded bar, taking one last look at the back table before making your way to the exit. You're almost at the door when someone purposely bumps into you.

"Hey, better watch where you're going." Warned the corpulent fellow; he was at least ten centimeters taller and had a strong distinctive smell that caused you an instant anxiety.

Wolf scent.

"Sorry, I didn't see you." You mumble, ready to bypass him, but he steps in your way again.

"We don't like strangers around here." He informs you with a small smile, showing off his canine fangs. "You're lucky we have our orders, miss."

You sigh slightly. "Who are you again?"

"The name's Victor Creed, but everyone calls me Sabertooth. You know, because of these little beauties here." He points to his fangs with conviction. "They grow much bigger during the transformation. I once ripped the head of one of your kind with them." The story is clearly told to intimidate you, but your unimpressed expression makes the man clear his throat. "Don't go wandering around, Tatiana can't protect you on the outside."

You force a smile. "I can take care of myself, wolf, don't worry." You move around him to finally leave, but even with his back turned, Sabertooth laughs.

"Alright then, go for a walk while I introduce myself to your little witch. Do you know if the Scarlet Witch is looking for better watchdogs? If she's as stuck-up as the rest of the family, maybe I'll write to Kamar Taj about where she's been hiding."

The thing is, maybe you've spent too much time with the Maximoffs all your life. And your temper is just as bad as theirs.

Victor has barely finished his teasing, and you've already grabbed him by the arm, mashing him into the ground like a lump of flour. The commotion immediately attracts the attention of everyone around, but until the crowd fully identifies what's going on, Victor has already used his wolf-like speed to get to his feet and advance on you.

He's so confident about his own strength that it takes him a whole moment to realize that your fist has already gone through his chest.

"Give me one good reason not to spread your guts on this floor, Mr. Creed." You say with an unwavering expression, your hand clenched around his barely beating heart.

Victor chokes on his own blood, his muscular hands try to push your shoulders back, but you don't move an inch. He grunts in pain.

"I-I take it back." He gasps, but you squeeze a little harder.

"That's not a reason."

The man breaks down in a sob. "P-please. I'm begging you. I wasn't thinking-"

It would be so easy, just to kill him. Rip the heart out of that arrogant wolf and let him drop. You never forgot the feeling, the predatory hunger for blood and violence burning in your veins. Nor Elizabeth's disappointed look every time you ended up covered in blood and it didn't do any good.

Letting go of the heart, and pulling your hand out, you saw Victor's wound heal immediately. A full moon must have been just around the corner for a wolf to heal so quickly.

His release drew your attention to the rest of the pub. All those people, watching the scene with mixed expressions of horror and disbelief on their faces. Some clearly recognized you, others seemed surprised to witness a werewolf of that size being beaten so easily.

Vitor's blood stained the blouse Wanda gifted you, and you swallowed down the urge to vomit.

While you were trying to recover from the interaction, a duo cut through the crowd, and Tatiana's short giggle made you wince.

"Keep her in line, Wanda. We don't make a mess this close to humans in this neighborhood." The witch warns but Wanda is staring at you in complete mesmerization. You shake your wrist gently, letting the excess blood drip onto the floor before you start to move.

The adrenaline of the confrontation has starved you.

-&-

You barely enter the first alley before Wanda catches up with you.

"Where are you going?"

But you don't answer the question, you just keep walking and retort: "Go back inside, I won't be long."

For a moment, you think she'll obey, but how foolish of you. Wanda was probably the most stubborn Maximoff you've ever met.

She almost gives you a heart attack when she appears in your path, making you jump backward.

"What the hell...?"

"You're shutting me out." She declares, frustrated. You swallow dry, shaking your head.

"No, I'm just going for a walk to clear my head. See you at the apartment-"

"Taking a walk is what you're calling it now? I'm not an idiot, I know you're going to feed." Wanda interrupted annoyed, getting in your way and stopping you from fleeing. "Why do you keep trying to hide this part of yourself? I don't care that you're a vampire."

"Wanda, please, just move."

"No."

"Wanda."

She crosses her arms. "I wanna watch."

You choke, chuckling nervously. "Excuse me?"

But she doesn't lose her cool, nodding. "I want to watch you feed on someone."

Wanda imagined some reactions to the suggestion: anger, indignation, mockery. She didn't think you'd turn so clumsy, with rosy cheeks and unable to look her in the eye.

"You're a very odd individual." You mumble shyly, and she has to giggle confusedly, losing her serious pose to adjust the collar of your blouse.

"Pleaseee." She stretches out the word, liking the way a smile breaks across your lips or especially the way you stare at her mouth when she talks like that. "I'll behave. I'll just stay put and watch. I've never seen it happen before. Please, honey? Just once."

You sigh in defeat, and Wanda taps her hands before jumping on your neck, and hugging you excitedly. It's a very difficult struggle to keep your fangs away with her so close.

It doesn't even last half a minute, but it feels like an eternity because you want to feed and everything always moves slower if the vampire focuses on hunger.

"It's not going to be anything special, I don't want to cause a scene in your aunt's neighborhood." You let her know, thinking you need to talk a bit to push the dizziness away.

Wanda smiles excitedly. "Anything will be great, darling. Come on, I'll be right behind you."

It's easy to find prey in a place like New Orleans. You end up deciding on a restaurant waiter, isolated in one of the alleys. He's a young adult, distracted by chores, and you almost give up because of the smell of garbage so close by. But it's a very good isolated opportunity to waste like this.

Your fangs are already out when there's a noise behind you.

Wanda has bumped into something, loud enough to attract the boy's attention, who is startled by the two figures in the alley. One glimpse of your vampiric appearance and he's stumbling frightened away before starting to run.

You sigh incredulously, and Wanda appears in your field of vision.

"Sorry, it was..." She falls silent, surprised that you haven't gathered your usual looks and absorbing every detail of your face now. From the fangs to the completely darkened eye sclera. When she speaks, her voice is much huskier. "An accident."

"It's okay, it actually tastes better when they're scared." You shrug. "The adrenaline and fear accelerates the heart which pumps fresh blood throughout the body. That's why so many vampires prefer to hunt at night. People are more afraid of the dark than they think."

Wanda chuckles, looking at you in a way that makes you forget about the boy's footsteps becoming too distant to distinguish from the other sounds of the city.

"You're kind of a vampire nerd."

"I don't know what that word means." You give a confused laugh and Wanda moves closer.

"It means I think you're really cute." She retorts, making you gulp dryly. Her hands find your shoulders, and Wanda gets close enough for you to count her freckles. "And I'm dying to know how these little ones feel, darling. Do they hurt?”

She's too close for you to focus, but you make an effort. "Hm, just a little, when they come out. They usually only bother me when I'm really hungry."

Wanda's fists cross together behind your head, and she's definitely too close for you to think about anything other than her.

"And how hungry are you now?"

"Very, Miss Maximoff." You confess hoarsely. Wanda smiles mischievously, tilting her neck in your direction.

"Well, I think you should have a little taste."

"God, Wanda." Your eyes close on instinct, your face falling forward so that you sink into the gap in her collarbone. Wanda shudders, as affected as you are. Her hands-free themselves so that she can stroke your arm, as a reassurance that everything is all right, and also caress your hair because apparently everything so far hasn't been maddening enough for her.

Every cell of your spirit begs you to sink your fangs into the warm skin in front of you, to drink every drop until Wanda faints against you, but you fight nature itself with her help. Her soft sighs in your ear, assuring you that she trusts you.

"It'll only be a little bit, I promise." You assure her, licking the spot gently and drawing a deep sigh from the other girl. It's the sound you focus on before you take the first bite.

Wanda tenses at the slightest hint of pain, but another sensation takes over elsewhere. Her cheeks burn with the betrayal of her own body, and she finds herself unable to care about the mild pain while she's throbbing between her legs.

Her nails dig into your biceps, and she starts to squirm under you, surrendering to the sensation of your bodies so close together. You hum in satisfaction at the soothing of your hunger, and Wanda drops her hand to your waist.

"Enough, baby." She whispers the request, her nails scratching the hair on the back of your neck. "I'm starting to get dizzy."

You hold on a little tighter, and Wanda softens against your body. Her heart is pounding, and she is aware of her pathetic underwear situation. Your body heaved forward, and Wanda didn't have the strength to resist any pull. She feels her back hit the wall of the alley, and whimpers at the feel of your leg pressed between hers.

She doesn't think she has ever been so at someone's mercy as she is now. She just wants to tell you to help her relieve the pressure between her legs, but every time she tries to call you, what leaves her lips are needy moans.

And you kept feeding and the surroundings began to darken. Wanda only realized that she'd been grinding herself on your thigh all this time because her climax approached at high speed, and falling off the edge brought a momentary recovery of consciousness.

"Oh, God, detka!" She meows, spilling herself on your thigh. Her body spasms softly, and you tense up, stopping your feeding immediately. Wanda falls limp in your arms, trying to fuck herself stupidly even after the orgasm she's just achieved. Your arms are the only support keeping her upright. "Do that again."

You shake your head, pushing her sweaty hair out of her face. "No, I took more than I should have." You retort softly, and Wanda has to blink a few times to realize that your appearance has returned to normal. "What a terrible idea that was, Wanda. So dangerous… I was starving."

She gives you a dreamy little smile. "How do I taste?"

"The best I've ever had." You assure her before adjusting her to hold her in your arms just in time for Wanda to lose consciousness.

She dreams of the same feeling of being carried but in a place much colder than New Orleans.

-&-

She wakes up just in time to see you putting her to bed, all the way to the borrowed room in her aunt's empty apartment.

Wanda grabs your wrist before you can pull away after putting the covers over her.

"Hey." Your voice and gaze are so sweet that she almost forgets everything that has happened so far. But Wanda actually remembers very well, and the lingering sensation of your body against hers makes her shiver.

"Hey... sorry for blacking out on you." She murmurs, her free hand coming up to your face. You bite your lip, still hovering over her body and uncertain what you should do next. Should you pull away? Lean in and kiss Wanda like you've been dreaming of doing for weeks? She seems to be able to see all the hesitation in your eyes, and offers a reassuring smile, her hand caressing your cheek. "What's wrong?"

Wanda is definitely teasing you, but you don't mind, smiling too as you steady your hands next to her body on the mattress, face to face, the two of you waiting for the other to make a move first until the tension is almost unbearable. But you also remember what brought you there, and let out a small sigh.

"You shouldn't have baited me like that, Wanda. It's dangerous, I could have... lost control."

Her expression becomes almost mischievous, a smile threatening to break out on her lips. "I've survived much worse, darling."

You sigh in frustration. "Wanda..."

"It's the truth." She chuckles even though you move away to sit down properly. Wanda also mimics the gesture, looking for your hand on the bed so that you stop grimacing and look at her. "Hey, come on, don't be upset."

"I'm not."

"Then why the pout?" She leans in, kissing your cheek and you snort away, unable to stay angry with this adorably charming witch. "You have to trust me, sweetheart." She whispers, kissing your jaw. You sigh, squeezing her hand gently.

"I trust you with my life, Wanda." You let her know in the same tone, intertwining your fingers in her lap. Wanda smiles against your skin, chaste kisses trailing from your jaw to your collarbone. "I'm just scared... that one day, I'll lose control and hurt you. I'd never forgive myself."

She pulls away a little to look you in the eye. "I meant it what I said before." Starts the witch. "I've been through much worse. You weren't there to see... what I did to reach that little girl. You don't have to worry about hurting me, because it doesn't matter, I'll always heal." With your hesitation, she pulls further away to push the collar of her shirt aside and let you see the place where you fed on her a few minutes ago. "Look, it's gone. You have to trust me, darling. I know that the idea of anyone being stronger than an original is hard for you to accept, but believe me, I'll be fine. I'll always be fine, even if you are starving and out of your mind."

You grimace, adjusting yourself so that you can hold her by the waist and place her on your lap. "Just because you're going to heal doesn't mean I can hurt you. You deserve kindness, Wanda. I can give you my best." Your mouth meets hers, it's not a hungry kiss but it's a hot one and it takes Wanda out of her orbit. It's been a while since the last time, and well, it's never really been like this. She struggles a little to find her rhythm, for a short moment just panting against your experienced tongue, until she finally responds in an equally passionate way that makes you sigh and press your body to hers.

Wanda likes the sound. Wanda likes you.

"Can I take off your shirt?" Your request comes between one kiss and another, she hardly answers because her mind is clouded with arousal, and if she could be honest, she would have been out of her clothes a long time ago.

"Yes, please." She gasps back, anxious hands tracing your back. Wanda is restless under your touch, shy about your gaze once the clothes come off. But you do everything with an unbearable slowness that leaves her squeezing her thighs together in search of relief.

She had sex before - For the first time in a war-torn adolescence, an experience that was forgettable and almost regretted. And then with a machine man who could pretend but never had the biological need to do so.

This moment right now was like no other, being with someone who worshipped her body, who was as breathless as she was, who reacted to her touch and was practically at her mercy when she touched the right spot.

And Wanda finds that she loves it. Having you touch her and touch you back, and feeling your fangs scratch her skin every time she thrusts her hips into yours.

Pinned against the bed, naked as you are, your legs entwined together like your bodies. Sighs of pleasure mingle with the dance of your hips, and Wanda digs her nails into your back as your fangs press into her collarbone.

You drink less than last time, but her legs still tingle. Or maybe it's the orgasm hitting her hard.

This is different from the first - the whole bed vibrates with the wave of magic that escapes the witch with her back arched. You hold Wanda, even though you're also shaking with the force of your own climax. She initiates the next kiss this time, moaning into your tongue as she spins your bodies around with ease. Your hands entwine together at the top of your head, but Wanda lets go, lowering herself and getting a confused sigh from you.

"What are you up to, little witch?"

Then it occurs to her with your expression that you are four centuries old and have spent much of this time as a prisoner and that perhaps you haven't been so confident because Wanda is your first lover.

She looks back up, sitting on your hips, breathing out of rhythm but now with a new excitement shining in her eyes.

"Babe, be honest... have you ever been with a woman before?"

Your face gains a deep color, and you turn your gaze away. Wanda falls hard, even if it doesn't occur to her yet.

She giggles softly and you're even more embarrassed, but she doesn't let you move away, her firm legs holding you in place.

"Don't make fun of me." You mutter, and Wanda snorts softly.

"Never." She assures you, even though she already has a new dozen antics memorized. Her mouth kisses your jaw and goes down like her body. The color in your cheeks is for another reason soon. "I love being your first. I want to make you feel good."

You hesitate to hold her when she's stimulating you, worried about losing control of your own strength. The sheets are destroyed when Wanda flicks her tongue over your breasts, smiling with delight at the sight of you squirming.

She goes lower and you gasp for air. "What... are you doing?" You ask mortified. It's not the 1700s anymore, you have to remember. Female pleasure is, well, taken into account. Wanda bites the inside of your thighs, watching the muscles twitch for a moment.

"You'll love it, I promise." It's the only thing she says before diving in, her hot mouth pulling all the air from your lungs. It's the most wonderful thing you've ever felt. Wanda's tongue works on your most intimate part, teasing your entrance before she starts to eat you out hungrily. You grip the headboard, your eyes closed tightly. Wanda holds your legs open, and the knot in your stomach starts to become impossible to contain.

The witch seems to like it too. She moans for your taste on her tongue, and the new vibration pushes you over the edge. Wanda holds your spasming body without difficulty, you think she uses magic for that. And still calming down, it takes you a whole moment to stop seeing stars.

Wanda licks up every drop of your pleasure, moaning softly before meeting your gaze again. You can't hold it, and end up covering your reddened face with your arm while ignoring the smug giggle of the witch who begins to climb your body again.

"Don't be shy... you look so pretty when you moan my name." She praises you provocatively, and you can't help but smile, feeling completely relaxed. Wanda waits for you to look at her again, her arms resting on your shoulder so that she can look at you closely. "Hi."

Your hand finds her cheek. " Hi, yourself." She leans into your touch, her smile filling your chest with warm happiness. Wanda sighs.

"Can we stay like this? Just for a moment." She asks quietly, and something in her gaze tells her that the question isn't just for today. Wanda wants to know if you can be with her.

You would. Forever if she wished. "Of course, little witch. For as long as you want."

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #kinktober 2023 #elizabeth olsen x reader #marvel imagines #wanda maximoff oneshots

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yan-lorkai · 4 months ago

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may i please request Idia, Azul, Jamil, and Floyd with a s/o that has a really bad sleep schedule, like literally can’t take naps and falls asleep at like 2 am and wakes up at 6 am. So they’re always really clingy and tired because of it

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: This is a mood. I started playing Mystic messenger again and like, my sleep schedule is all over the place because I refuse to lose even a single chat 😭. Needlessly to say but I'm sleepy all day but at least I'm getting a good ending for sure lol. Hope you enjoy this, darling!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Idia himself has trouble sleeping. He keep turning around so many time that if you were to share a bed with him, you would woke suddenly. Nightmare, anxiety and fears plague his mind, thus he turns to the only coping mechanism he has: gaming. He plays the night away before meeting you. After that, his heart start to beat normally and he can finally breathe, he can finally rest for a second. And then he finds out you have a worse sleeping schedule than him. You sleep really late and wake up really early.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ For once he feels the need to be the responsible one, inviting you to sleepovers just so he can make sure that you will be sleeping at an acceptable time, reducing the time you spend in front of screens or any caffeine. You will be sleeping this night and the after, and the other after that. He'll made sure of it. Plus, having you around is so good and you're always touching him in some form whenever you have a bad night. He like it even though he still flinch and blush whenever this happens.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Though no matter how much he loves to have you cuddling his back or hugging him because you're sleepy and can't take a nap, Idia will have your sleep schedule fixed. There can only be one insomniac in this relationship and it's him.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ It's a bit difficult for Jamil, though not impossible, to know you're not getting enough sleep at night. He himself works till the late hours and rise together with the sun. Still there are noticeable signs: you clinging to him, irritability, impulsive thoughts, slurred speech, and then he starts to realize you don't sleep at all some nights, doing whatever you spent time doing. And Jamil scolds you like he would Kalim. He is listing every negative effect on your health, how not sleeping can impact you on the long run, how you should fix it.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ He make you some teas to sleep better, he'll even help you meditate so you can clear your mind. Though nothing he try works, so he casually move you into his room so he can keep an eye on you. He takes regular breaks when night starts to fall to see if you're still awake. If you are and he is free, which is rare, Jamil will lay down beside you and hold you tight, hoping that the warmth of his body and his soft humming can make you sleepy. If even this fail, he use the Snake Whisper to make you sleep.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Floyd is something else. He likes to experiment with how long he can stay awake before he succumbs to exhaustion, he does this often, laughing at the side effects the day after - though he also gets pretty moody the days he doesn't sleep. But only he can do this, you are required to sleep and take naps. He'll squeeze you gently on his arms, humming a little song while he pinch and poke at you to make you squeal. It's his way of telling you that he is here for you.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Despite his fickle and quick change of moods, Floyd can be soft sometimes. And when he wants something, he gets something; he'll read for you to sleep or tell all about his day and the things he did, the people he squeezed, the dishes he cooked, at some point, even more when he is holding you closely, rubbing your back and pressing kisses to your neck, Floyd knows you're bound to feel asleep soon.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Azul knows the importance of sleeping well. A well rested mind is capable of analyzing, of observation and various other things he needs to keep his business running. He can see how you struggle, often draping yourself all over him, mumbling slowly and yawning every few seconds. He knows you don't have been sleeping well. The motive he inquiry you about; and he create a sleep schedule for you when he learn it's because you have a bad sleep schedule, altering everything you do every day so you can have a practical schedule that fits your academic life and free time.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ While that's more easy said than done, Azul tries to coax you into sleeping in his room under the pretende of watching a movie or two. He is shy like this, don't mind him. He knows what's good for you and he can pamper you and take care of you when you are nearby, tangling you in his arms and blankets.

#yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst #yandere idia #yandere idia shroud #yandere azul #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere jamil #yandere jamil viper #yandere floyd #yandere floyd leech

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fairuzfan · 9 months ago

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I never claimed Biden's policies never hurt anyone, but it is unfair to blame Biden for Covid when Covid began under the Trump administration and it was Trump's actions that led to its severity and damage. Biden at least attempted to mitigate Covid during the first year of his administration, but by then the damage was already extensive and the politicized culture around it made it impossible for Americans to cooperate and regulations to have any real affect. But blaming Biden for Covid is like blaming Hoover for the Great Depression.

Don't get me wrong, I hate Biden too. But no matter how awful our 2024 presidential choices are, they are our only possible choices for president. Our voting systems are messed up. 3rd party votes only work against us and lots of people also just opt out of voting, which is about as equally affective. The electoral college was founded on literal racism and slavery and is still imposed to this day. But that's the system we have to work with. It's rigged. It's awful. I KNOW.

And like I said voting is not the end all of political action, and reading some of these comments, I can understand your anger. For most elections, yes, a vote IS an endorsement and support for a politician. But presidential elections just don't work that same way. When you vote 3rd party, you might as well just handed over your right to vote to your representative. And I guarantee you your representative is either going to vote for Trump or Biden.

The presidential election is NOT the only election on the ballot. And all other elections in the US make it possible for 3rd party candidates to win. I will vote 3rd party wherever possible locally, and I encourage you to do so too.

Still, reading through all these comments, I have yet to hear an actual solution to this problem that is achievable by November. Our choices are Biden or Trump. That's it. I hate it too, but if you have any better, feasible ideas, please let me hear it.

Except it is an endorsement. Biden literally thinks "they'll get over it" (it being the genocide of palestinians) by the time election comes. He thinks that we will vote for him anyways so he'll do whatever he wants. That's literally an endorsement. The reason the Vote Uncommitted campaign is gaining traction is to threaten Biden into doing something. If he doesn't feel threatened, then he assumes we are going to vote for him no matter what. So that means it's an endorsement.

If Biden doesn't listen to us, that's on him for losing the election. Not on the people who want him to do something else. And I don't want trump to win. I don't. But I will never vote for a person who so brazenly killed my friends and family, lied to my face, and was so unbelievably arrogant in that he thinks he can do whatever the fuck he wants. Feel free to vote for Biden. Just don't say it's for anyone else.

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dimplyowl · 2 months ago

Text

Today I want to talk about intentions. A while ago I made a post about why Izzy's toxic masculinity and internalized homophobia doesn't give him a free pass to treat other people like shit and then not try to atone for that. A lot of the Izzy apologists I see seem to be of that opinion: that because we take into consideration Ed's past trauma when thinking how his actions have hurt the people we care about, we should give Izzy the same grace.

Well, I don't actually think we should, and I'm going to tell you why.

First, though, I want to say that this isn't about attacking people who enjoy characters who are pieces of shit. Please, by all means, enjoy your grubby little shitstain characters (I absolutely have some of my own that I love). This is about discussing why it's problematic to twist the canonical narrative to label Ed as abusive and Izzy as a victim.

And, in my opinion, it comes down to intentions.

"But dimplyowl," you say, "someone's intentions don't matter when the result is harmful to the people around them!" And I think, to a point, yes, that's true. People who hurt others through careless or reckless behavior need to bear the responsibility of their actions and own up to it (something that imo Izzy does not do). But I think there's also a distinction that needs to be made between people who hurt and control others because they take pleasure in feeling powerful over them, and those who don't.

If we take a look at Izzy's actions in season one and compare them to Ed's actions in season two, in my personal opinion, it becomes clear that one of these men is someone who has repeatedly taken pleasure in mistreating the people around him, both insubordinates and people that he claims to "have love for." And that man isn't the dread pyrate Blackbeard.

Does Ed enact violence on other people? Yes. Does he "love a good maim?" Also yes. Does he enjoy hurting people? Mm, debatable. The thing about Ed is that he has a complicated relationship with violence. To him, it's a tool to be utilized when necessary. I think he certainly gets a sense of vindictive pleasure when instructing Fang to skin the French captain or when the people at the French party descend into chaos and set themselves on fire. But, importantly, it's because those are people who wronged him. Those are people who hurt him, who dug at his race and his background and took pleasure in using those things to hurt him.

But Ed doesn't enjoy violence for violence's sake. There's always a reason, whether it's in reaction to being insulted, belittled, or threatened, or whether it's because it's literally just in the job description, he has a reason.

In season two, his reason for mistreating the crew is that he's trying to provoke them into mutinying on him. And, like, honestly, he does a pretty shitty job of it. Up until we rejoin them, his big crime is overworking them. The crew is tired emotionally and physically, but for the most part they're unharmed. They lost Ivan on a raid, but any one of them could die on a raid at any time, because it's literally just a hazard of the job. Not a single one of them is even considering mutiny at this point.

Ed hits his breaking point when Izzy suggests that they try and "talk it through," and imo completely understandably. It's his fault that the morale on the ship is low, is it? It's his fault because he was sad and heartbroken and vulnerable? It's his fault because he was healing in his own way, but that wasn't acceptable to Izzy at the time, but now because the ship isn't fun for Izzy anymore, because Izzy is on the verge of losing his position of power as Blackbeard's first mate, now is when Izzy decides that maybe talking it through might actually be helpful? Yeah, if I were Ed, I would fucking shoot him too.

But not once do we get any evidence that Ed is taking any pleasure in wearing down the crew. When he hits his breaking point, he is very clearly not having a good time. He realizes that if he wants this to end, he needs to up the ante. He hands Izzy a loaded gun and offers himself up as an easy target. Izzy laughs at his suicidal boss, friend, someone that he "has love for", and tells him to do it himself. He prolongs Ed's suffering. He puts the crew in even more danger. And even as Ed is trying to make the crew kill him, he doesn't touch them. By this point, we've seen this crew turn to mutiny twice, once because of Stede's ineptitude and once because of Izzy's abuse when he took over as captain. It shouldn't take much to get them to act, and yet it takes Ed threatening to get them all killed in a storm for them to finally act. Because up until that point, he's been unstable, he's been clearly going through a crisis, but he hasn't hurt them, he hasn't been abusive. He's clearly not enjoying any of this, he's going through some shit, he's hurting, and they love him, and until their lives are imminent danger, they're discussing how to help him.

If Ed wanted to hurt them, if he wanted to push them into mutiny sooner, there are so many things he could have done to terrorize them. Instead until the point he decides he can't live anymore, his only hope is that either he'll get killed in a raid, or he'll overwork them enough that they'll kill him themselves. This is not about abusing his crew, this is about abusing himself.

In contrast, when we look at Izzy's behavior throughout season one, we see someone who very clearly enjoys his position of power over other people, and who gets pleasure out of abusing that power. In 1x2, he sows distrust and uncertainty in Ivan and Fang about Ed's decision-making, telling them that he's half-mad, keeping Ed separate from the crew, and discouraging any questions by asserting himself physically over Fang. (He then claims in 1x4 to have reassured the crew when they've doubted Ed's leadership, when in fact he seems to be the cause of that doubt). In 1x3 he blatantly lies to Ed about having "explicitly" (his word) told Stede that "Blackbeard wants a word with him." He is practically gleeful when he passes on Stede's message to go suck eggs in hell, clearly expecting that to get a rise out of Ed, certainly to get him to drop his fascination with the Gentleman Pirate, and probably intending for Ed to attack Stede himself for disrespecting him.

In 1x4, he flip flops between caring that some of their crew died while fighting the Spanish to get Stede and his crew, and telling Ivan and Fang to kill anyone who refuses to fight the Spanish. Intending to fight the Spanish warships that have caught up with him is absolutely going to get everyone slaughtered, when there are other options. Ed actually advises anyone who can to leave, knowing that that's their only chance for survival, and similarly he tells the Revenge crew to surrender when cornered by the British. In 1x4, he clearly considers every death that would occur to be his responsibility when he tells Stede that being Blackbeard means that everyone's going to die, and it's going to be all his fault. Who's the one who actually cares about what happens to his crew here?

In 1x5 Izzy attempts to exert control over Lucius and punish him for, apparently, not working on his day off? Never mind that there are two other people in that room who are slacking off. Izzy targets Lucius, who is an effeminate unapologetically gay man, who Izzy clearly believes will be an easy target. He attempts to mock his sexuality (which actually winds up being more telling on himself), decides that it's his right to tell someone else's crew what to do at all, and attempts to use Lucius as an example to show the rest of Stede's crew that their "days of doing fuck-all are over", but then doesn't give jobs to the rest of the crew? He catches one of his own crew members fucking off with Lucius, and from what we can extrapolate, decides to only punish Lucius, because clearly Lucius as the "seductress" is to blame. He threatens to blackmail Lucius into obeying him, is visibly enjoying threatening him and manipulating him, and leaves like a pissy toddler when he doesn't get his way. And by "get his way", I mean successfully gains control over someone through threats and manipulation.

In 1x6, he once again decides that an effeminate gay man needs to be punished for his existence, but this time it's Stede he sets his sights on. He decides that he needs to take action only after hearing Ivan say that he's never seen Ed so open and available. Izzy can't have that, because he needs Ed to be dependent on Izzy, so that Izzy can continue to isolate Ed from the rest of the crew, can remain the only source of contact between Ed and the crew, and thereby easily control and manipulate both parties. He pressures Ed into finally acting on what he said he would do, belittling Stede and Ed's connection to Stede by referring to Stede as Ed's pet. (It is not an accidental choice that the writers will later have another antagonist refer to Stede as Ed's pet; it's deliberate mirroring to Izzy as an antagonist). He uses Stede's ego to manipulate him into insisting on putting on the fuckery so that they can get rid of Stede today--almost as if he knows that putting immediate pressure on Ed to act won't give him time to reconsider, to rethink, to back out, to maybe consider why Izzy is so adamant about this--and then uses Stede and Ed's relationship to further manipulate Stede into doubling down on doing the fuckery when he's doubting himself. And doing it in possibly the creepiest way possible?? Stede literally puts up a physical barrier between them, and Izzy pushes against that, actually literally pushes up against the curtain to push against the boundary that Stede has put up.

And then when it's clear Ed isn't going to kill Stede, Izzy decides that he's going to take that decision out of Ed's hands. He decides he knows better than Ed what's best for him, places more value in his own decisions than Ed's, essentially mutinies on Ed by disobeying him, and on Stede by challenging him to a duel. He clearly believes he's going to win, and easily, in the process forcing someone he again claims to "have love for" to watch as he destroys the only thing that's brought hope and life and light and enjoyment back into Ed's life. He's embarrassingly easily goaded into losing his temper, relishes the moment he thinks he's won, the moment he stabs Stede, loses his temper again when his sword is stuck. Canyonites love to talk about Ed having anger problems, but this episode clearly demonstrates who actually has the anger problem. He looks to Ed when he realizes he's lost, as if Ed is going to forgive him, let him stay, when he just tried to kill Ed's friend and (only in Izzy's mind at that point) lover.

Izzy then turns to the fucking cops to turn Stede in. He reinforces his belief that Ed isn't capable of making his own decisions when he refers to Stede as having "done something" to Ed's brain, as if Ed is a weak-willed, easily manipulated child. He sends Jack in because he knows that Jack will put a wedge between Ed and Stede, and hopefully to get Ed out of there before the navy shows up. He apparently doesn't consider the fact that Ed is the most wanted pirate in the world, and if Jack doesn't succeed, will be in life-threatening danger. But maybe he doesn't care about that, considering what he tells Ed later.

He arranges for Ed to be put into his custody. Like, I shouldn't have to say anything about that, because it's fucking disgusting. Like Ed is property to be handed over to Izzy. He tries to convince Ed that Stede's execution is actually a kindness, despite knowing what it will do to Ed. When that fails, he tries to convince Ed not to take the Act and sign the contract, but...isn't that what Izzy himself just did?

In 1x9 we get more of his control and manipulation over the crew. Taking away a week of Wee John's rations for making a comment about Izzy's terrible name for his ship, as he is actively eating in front of him. Making Ivan and Fang serve him, telling them his food needs more salt, and then not even eating more of it when they salt it? Fucking gross. That move is all about control.

And then 1x10, which I shouldn't even have to talk about, but the fucking horrible way he treats Ed apparently is still something that goes over some peoples' heads. Once again keeping him secluded from the crew, refusing to give them answers about what's going on, keeping them busy by literally spitting on their clean deck, when he could have just dumped the coffee out on it. Watching Ed grieve and bond with the crew, once again deciding for Ed that he knows what's best for him, interrupting his grieving process, telling him that what he's become is worse than death. Threatening him that if he doesn't return to the very specific image that Izzy says Blackbeard is, that Izzy will kill him. Later on his deathbed apology admitting that he knew that being Blackbeard was harmful to Ed, but that he kept pressing because Izzy needed him, needed Blackbeard in order to feel powerful, to keep the level of respect and fear that other people had for him.

All of this paints a picture of a person who enjoys feeling powerful, who enjoys using that power to hurt and abuse and control the people around him, who will do anything, even at the detriment of someone that he has "love for", to keep that power for himself. A person who takes pleasure in hurting people, physically and emotionally.

I see a lot of people trying to say that what Ed did was worse than what Izzy did. I personally don't think it was, when you add up the consistent way that Izzy mistreats every person around him. But I think that what's even more important in this discussion are the intentions behind the hurt.

Ed did everything he could not to harm his crew until it became evident that the only way he could be successful in getting them to kill him would be by giving them a very present, very real threat. And even then, the way he went about doing it was very distant. Making Jim and Archie fight each other. Sailing directly into a storm. Damaging the ship to make an already dangerous situation even more dangerous.

Izzy repeatedly enjoyed exerting his control and physical and emotional violence on other people. He displayed a pattern of believing himself to be the only person capable of making the right choices, of removing the agency from the people around him, specifically of removing Ed, a person of color's, agency. He hurt every single person around him, all for his own benefit, for his own gain.

Maybe it comes down to value systems, maybe intentions behind someone's behavior really don't matter to you, but I know that I am much more forgiving of someone who hurt me as a byproduct of hurting themselves than I am someone who knowingly, repeatedly hurts people because they enjoy it.

#this is extremely long #if you made it to this point then wow #thank you #that's actually incredible #our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd s2 #edward teach #stede bonnet #ofmd meta #izzy hands hate club #izzy hands #izzy critical #izzy hands critical

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sunsetkerr · 1 year ago

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THE TRADE | s.kerr

summary: as your afl season ends, your contract is up- leaving you, the hottest player in the aflw, up for grabs.

pairing: aflw!reader x sam kerr

notes: part one here!

yourinstagram

liked by samanthakerr20, crowsaflw and 18,398 others yourinstagram our third flag, so proud to have spent the last five years with this team. ytfg 💪💪

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samanthakerr20 the only time I will accept you not wearing a west coast guernsey is now ❤️❤️ so proud, go the crows!! ↳ yourinstagram screenshotting this and sending it to west coast right now

crowsaflw we love you #1 ↳ yourinstagram ❤️

user no because im so happy

user they need to resign her ↳ user shes a free agent, meaning whoever bids the most is most likely where she will go ↳ user she can't leave the crows 💔

alannakennedy casually winning flags ↳ yourinstagram its a constant tbh

alexchidiac10 loving the hat in the second pic ↳ yourinstagram its sam's dads 💪 ↳ samanthakerr20 roger was robbed

aflwupdates

liked by user, caitlinfoord and 7,281 others aflwupdates BREAKING NEWS: Adelaide Crows star, Y/N L/N, is officially a free agent. After winning her 3rd flag with the southern club, L/N's contract has not been renewed and she is rumoured to be looking for a new club. It is unknown whether Adelaide is negotiating a new contract with their star forward.

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user im losing it, she can't leave ↳ user I wouldn't be surprised, she doesn't live in Adelaide so it might be easier to go to a club closer to home ↳ user where does she live? ↳ user y/n has a home in perth with her wife sam and their daughter, but flies between perth, adelaide and london (where sam and y/n also have a house) for sam's football

caitlinfoord sick pic though @yourinstagram ↳ yourinstagram ffs caitlin ↳ user caitlin can't resist putting her foot in it 😭 ↳ yourinstagram literally this is my life, come get your dog please @mackenziearnold @alannakennedy

yourinstagram

liked by samanthakerr20, maryfowlerrr and 26,387 others yourinstagram in the off season we party (tillies style)

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mackenziearnold matildas 🤝 the crows ↳ yourinstagram party animals

user SAM AND Y/N HAVE MATCHING TATTOOS??? ↳ samanthakerr20 disgusting really

user seeing the girls let their hair down is so refreshing

user y/n looks in no condition to have caitlin foord on her shoulders, that is one expensive woman y/n- don't drop her please ↳ yourinstagram if I did it wouldn't be an accident

matildas see you at training tomorrow morning ladies!! ↳ maryfowlerrr I can't go out.. I'm sick

samanthakerr20 you little rager, you look so good in that shirt ↳ yourinstagram its 100% off (a sam kerr exclusive discount) ↳ samanthakerr20 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤

user we are all freaking out about her trade and she's out here getting off her face with her wife's team mates 😭😭

crowsaflw

liked by yourinstagram, samanthakerr20 and 9,290 others crowsaflw it is with great sorrow we announce the departure of our superstar y/n l/n. five long years with the best, she will be missed on and off the field. truly a force to be reckoned with ❤️ we will miss you, forever our #1.

samanthakerr20

liked by yourinstagram, amysayer_ and 739,298 others samanthakerr20 she's off to continue to do great things ❤️ proud.

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user its so weird seeing them all lovey and not all I hate you ↳ yourinstagram dont worry its weird for me too

crowsaflw our girl! ↳ user but like.. not anymore... ↳ user too soon

kyracooneyx my lord and saviour ↳ charlotte_grant all hail mrs l/n-kerr

samanthakerr20 realising this photo kinda makes it look like you're dead xx ↳ yourinstagram sometimes when im with you I wish I was xxxxxx

yourinstagram

liked by samanthakerr20, aflw and 18,388 others yourinstagram the new diggs

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user STOP ITS OPTUS, SHE'S GONE TO WA

user omg shes going to west coast or freo

optusstadium so happy to have you!

samanthakerr20 who says diggs? ↳ yourinstagram literally shut the fuck up

mackenziearnold physically cannot sit still right now ↳ yourinstagram right now or ever?

user y/n literally tell us, tell us right now

westcoastaflw

liked by samanathakerr20, yourinstagram and 11,938 others westcoastaflw welcoming our new #1!! @yourinstagram blue and gold looks very good on you, don't you agree @samanthakerr20?

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samanthakerr20 DAMNNNNNN 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤

samanthakerr20 can finally watch one of your games without wanting to vomit looking at your guernsey 🤤🤤🤤🤤 ↳ yourinstagram 💙💛

user I cannot breathe

user sam got what she wanted 😭😭 ↳ yourinstagram she always does unfortunately

roxykerr20 thank goodness we didn't invest in any crows merchandise 😂 ↳ yourinstagram you never would roxy 😌 I did this solely for you and roger ↳ samanthakerr20 I'll just jump off a cliff then x love you babe

#one shots . * • .#sam kerr one shot #sam kerr x reader #sam kerr imagine #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso x reader

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elaemae · 2 months ago

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What did Og!Cale sacrifice?

Genuine question...

Hear me out;

I'm reading the latest chapter of 'In an Instant' by Messy_haired_bum and something just clicked in my head.

See, I know that the Og!Cale is a fan favorite, something that I didn't really understand because we don't know a whole lot about the guy, but there's just something that's been stopping me from getting enamored with him via various fanfictions I've read even though they've made the Og!Cale very lovable, and I didn't really know what it was, for a long time, until now.

There are various posts circulating around saying that Og!Cale sacrificed himself greatly with the deal he made with the GoD, and at a time, I believed that. But... reading this chapter opened my eyes and made me think, what did Og!Cale sacrificed?

What did he sacrifice that he didn't already lose?

A lot of ppl say that Og!Cale lost everything to be KRS but the only thing he had left was his identity. That's... not a lot to be honest. Not enough, actually.

Now, I can hear y'all thinking "Current!Cale got his wealth, backing, and a family–", but so did Current!KRS.

Current!KRS also didn't need to deal with a world war involving a megalomaniac, entire enemy nations, and a literal divine being.

Og!Cale was a foot soldier for 40 years, most likely didn't help a lot against Arm and The White Star, and he died without any (known) great feats but he's given such an amazing opportunity to take over the body of someone that'll need to deal with all those problems? An opportunity of rebirth that even Lee Soo Hyuk wasn't given until he gave one up of his abilities to help seal a deity?

He knows he couldn't shoulder the burden of saving the world so he just... washed his hands off that responsibility... And then occupied the body of a high-ranking well-known individual to then go off and get a happy ending with his reincarnated mom.

As the excerpt above said, it's a win-win for him, he doesn't get soul-crushing responsibilities, he gets a high-ranking position that grants him power, he can deal with the learning curve due to being given Og!KRS's abilities and having an actual reliable guide, and he gets to be back with his mom.

And...

... If Current!Cale ever fails?

He can just shrug and say it's not his problem anymore.

He's got his new happy life now. (I'm not saying he will, I'm just saying he could, if he was a lesser man)

Current!Cale lost everything he had too, all the fruits of his labors, the results of him dealing with all sorts of issues and problems for years, just... taken away by a stranger in his body. You can say KRS!Cale wasn't really happy, that Og!Cale didn't know if the body he'll end up in would be okay, that he gambled with his life in taking over Og!KRS's life.

Life that... he was about to lose anyways.

It just wasn't fair...

If we ignore the fact the KRS!Cale is literally thriving and just look subjectively at the situation of the body switch, KRS!Cale got the short end of the bloody, hellish, rotting stick.

I can only get closure if I personally find out if Og!Cale ever gave a fuck about the uninvolved, innocent guy that he sent to deal with a 20 year war, and not in the 'Is he doing the saving he's supposed to?' typa way, I want to find out if he ever feels guilty of the responsibility that he gave the man, if he ever worries for KRS!Cale's personal safety and mental health, for putting an innocent man through war. An innocent man that couldn't just stand by, as the world he found himself in, burns around him.

I don't want to dislike the current KRS, I want to love him actually, but this is my current perspective on the matter and you guys are free to share yours so that I can broaden my mindset about Og!Cale (pls do, I wanna like the guy but I wanna know if he's a good guy first, I wanna know why ppl love him so I can love him as well)

#tcf #lcf #tcf cale #tcf cale henituse #original cale henituse #og cale henituse #lcf cale #trash of count's family #trash of the count's #trash of the counts family #trash of the duke's family #trash of the count's family #lout of the count's family #lout of the counts family #lout of the count’s family #lout of count's family #cale henituse

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therealvinelle · 1 month ago

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I want to get into old movies (say 1930s to maybe 1980s) because I watched Casablanca and it was really good, so I followed it up with Sunset Boulevard (1950) which was also really good. Then a friend recommended Night of the Comet (1984) which was very different but really good too. I think the old movies which survived this long were better written then most of the stuff that comes out now.

Sooo... do you have any favorite old movies? Or just general recommendations (would also be interested in Muffin's recs if she's got any)

This is my third time typing this out for you... browser keeps reloading.

I do love older movies, you have come to the right place, @theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin loves older movies too (I'm saying "older", not "old", since 1980's movies aren't old and I refuse to believe they are).

I'll give you my recs by genre, not decade.

And this list is really a list of the movies that came to mind as I sat down to type this, so please, please come back with a more specific request as 1930's-1980's really covers... most of the movies that have been made.

Action

Jaws Very famous movie, this is Henrik Ibsen's Enemy of the People but with sharks.

Terminator What do you do if you lose the war, but you have a time machine? Travel back in time to kill your enemy's mother before she can birth him. Meanwhile in the 1980's Sarah Connor is having a very bad day.

Epics, romance, biographical and historical (yes, I'm lumping these together)

Amadeus About a man who is not Mozart, and upset about the fact.

Bridge on the River Kwai One of my all-time favorite movies: man is torn between loyalty to his country, and building a great bridge (this is a misleading summary: he's not torn at all, bridge wins hands down). The ending is parodied in Tropic Thunder, if you've seen that movie.

Dangerous Liaisons (1988) Sexy French aristocrats conspire to ruin each other's lives with sex.

Doctor Zhivago By my favorite director, this is a love story that really feels like Lawrence of Arabia if Lawrence was a woman and they were in Russia.

Godfather I and II Not overrated.

Lawrence of Arabia Man keeps trying to quit his job because sometimes all desert and no break from desert makes Lawrence a homicidal boy. Allenby says "Nonsenese, chap, you're doing wonderfully!" Cinematic history is made.

Horror and thrillers

The Exorcist I sometimes wonder if this movie should not have been made, because lesser movies have tried to recreate what Exorcist managed so well for decades, and all they've done is make bad movies that make me wish I was watching the Exorcist.

Nosferatu The year was 1922, no real precedent for copyright infringement had been had, and the producers of this movie which is definitely not Dracula by Bram Stocker were shocked and appalled they were... sued?? For theft of intellectual property? No!!! Coincidentally the most faithful adaptation of Dracula by Bram Stoker in existence. And free literally everywhere since it's 102 years old, you can watch this movie on its wikipedia page.

Sunset Boulevard While it's a well-known fact that a lot of silent movie actors and actresses were unable to adjust to the change when "talkies" were introduced, and they subsequently lost their careers, the window for casting one such washed up actress has long since closed. Sunset Boulevard, released in 1950, was able to do this however which makes it all the more meta and delightful.

Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? The only two people who hate each other more than the sisters this movie is about, were the actresses who played them. To the point of Joan Crawford sabotaging the movie's chances with the Oscars, because she hated Betty Davies that much (Betty Davies called her a stupid idiot for doing this).

Musicals

Fiddler on the Roof Just watch it.

My Fair Lady "The rain in Spain falls mainly on Henry Higgins because he's stupid."

Westerns

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kidd Fun romp about two charming criminals, and how good things don't always last.

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly I frankly forget what the plot was for this one, I just remember having a great time watching it.

Foreign section

Det syvende innseglet (The Seventh Seal) A knight plays a game of chess with Death.

Jean de Florette + Manon des Sources French accountant moves to the countryside to farm rabbits, this does not go well for him. In the sequel, his daughter has gotten interesting.

La vita è bella (Life is Beautiful) When we watched this in Italian class I had to leave during the first half to go the school nurse, came back during the second half. Greatest whiplash of my life.

Ladri di bicicletta (Bicycle Thieves) Some poor fool looked at Italy after WWII and thought "I bet people want a depressing movie about poverty". The movie bombed, but it's very good and I recommend it.

Ran King Lear, but in Japan.

Veiviseren (Pathfinder) First ever Saami movie, based on an old legend. Strongly recommend.

Bonus: TV shows

Columbo (first two seasons only) Sometimes you're the cleverest little criminal in the world :) but there's a stupid man in a stupid coat who won't stop asking you stupid questions about things he shouldn't be so obsessed about because it's making you look guilty (which you are but he's being rude!)

I, Claudius Fantastic about the imperial Roman family in the Julio-Claudian dynasty. And available for free on youtube!

The Prisoner Unnamed man tries unsuccessfully to leave a beautiful village. You can watch the episodes in any order you like, doesn't matter, he's not getting out of that village.

Bonus: 90's movies

Goodfellas Hilarious, horrible, and so entertaining. A mafia movie about horrible people who like money.

Se7en One of the only noir movies I've liked, this is something of a comfort movie for me. This and Silence of the Lambs are mandatory yearly watches for me. Watch this and you'll finally get all those "WHAT'S IN THE BOX??" jokes.

Silence of the Lambs Possibly my favorite feminist movie, to the point where I sincerely believed this was appropriately described as a chick flic. It's the film where Clarice Starling discovers the only person who'll treat her like an equal is the serial killer cannibal.

The Usual Suspects Your parents have seen this movie, and it was huge for them.

Total Recall Just a great adaptation of one of my favorite short stories.

Unforgiven THE Western movie, what you should do is watch a bunch of Clint Eastwood Westerns and then wrap it up with this one because it's a sequel to all of them.

Bonus: directors to look for

Ingmar Bergman (watch his movies and discover a lot of the films you like are just remakes of his things)

Clint Eastwood (a lot of his movies are newer, but he's so good. You should watch his things, I promise you will find one you like.)

Blake Edwards (fantastic comedic director, same sense of humor as Muffin and myself if that tells you anything)

Alfred Hitchock (he's not in fact overrated)

David Lean (god of directors)

Pier Paolo Pasolini (huge name in Italian cinema)

Steven Spielberg (also not overrated)

Billy Wilder (Sunset Boulevard, among others. Hilarious director)

Please. Give me a more specific genre.

#movie rec #movie recommendation

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thesensteawitch · 3 months ago

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Fortune Reading 🔮 FORTUNATE READING

🔮🤎🔮🤎🔮🤎🔮🤎

Pick A Pile

(Left to Right- Pile 1, Pile 2, Pile 3)

Little Things--- leading to BIG things

A fortunate shake up is happening in everyone's life as this lunar eclipse is approaching.

Hello, senstea souls!💜

Welcome to my blog! I am back with another pick a pile reading that is going to reveal to you how fortunate you are!

This is a timeless tarot reading. So remember you find something when you're meant to find it. Sit calmly, grab a snack and take a few breaths before beginning to read.

AND if you end up resonating with the reading and if it touches your heart then do let me know!💜🔮✨

Also, if you wish to know more about you or your life then feel free to DM me and book a reading with me.💟

I am looking forward to your response to this blog.🪄🤍 (Because it took me a lot of energy to do this reading!🥹)

TAROT BOOKING FORM 🍀 • MY RATE CARD✨

Here you go!🌈

Pile 1

Tarot Cards- Two of Cups, Page of Wands, Wheel of Fortune, Judgement, The Hangedman, Knight of Wands

Pile 1!!!!! You leave traces of wisdom behind you. How fortunate! Isn't it? For the people who will find the marks left behind by you and will call it a treasure. Your existence is fortunate for others. The card says, “No matter what has caused your unique point of view to come about—it has come about. ALL-THAT-IS is benefiting from YOUR existence and your point of view.” How fortunate it is to be a source of fortune for others (I write this at 1:11). You're not meant to draw conclusions. You're meant to allude! Allow your mind to flow into the infinite chemistry of this universe. You're reminding me of the temperature card. You embody the essence of the creator, creating life on the outskirts of the well-established towns. But be careful; you're always on the edges, hence prone to confusion and losing balance. How many times have you lived your days on DIYs? Always find a way to do what you are being called to do. HUGE fortune is coming due to your shrewdness and resourcefulness. When you create something from nothing, you show the universe that you deserve everything your heart desires and may seem too far-fetched of a dream. I see, “A beetle and a boat. A dog and a fox.” If you ever had a pet or a friend who is on the other side or is no longer a part of your life (whom you had to let go), then know they are your fortunate blessing in this lifetime because they protect you from the other side and will always be on your side even in separation. I also feel very strongly that the space that once belonged to someone is now empty, and the universe is about to send someone in your life to fill that space. The month of November is shown in the cards. Perhaps, by the month of November, the spaces in your life will be filled. Till then, hold these spaces and keep weaving magic. Your intuition has been guiding you to trust that the universe is about to shower you with an abundance of love and fortune. Prosperity and abundance are very, very strong in your cards. Like I'm literally going to scream out of the intensity of energies. But I can't! Because at the same time your energy makes me feel so calm. It seems someone in your energy wants to scream out of frustration because they want to LOVE YOU. But something is keeping them away. And when it comes to loving yourself, you too have felt like screaming but quickly went back to being gentle with yourself. AND the word FORTUNE has literally appeared in your reading TWICE.

You have swallowed so much of what you could have said when it pinched you to be in a state always trying to make your ends meet. Though undeniably you do it with so much grace and like a witch or wizard, you still deserve the world! 😭 Don't you worry, darling, the door to your bright future has to open now. There's nothing left in this phase for you to learn or grow. AND YET!!! YET???? Yet you've been filling this phase of your life with love. It's like you're on the last page of this book and it's the blank page because the story ended on the page previous to this one, but YOU are even finding so much beauty in the blankness. HOW??? I hear, “It's the end of a decade but the start of a new age.” You're seriously in your power! The way you're dancing on this blank white page is something only highly wise and mature people can do. Bravo! Fate stepped in and forced you to say goodbye. The book that just ended was beautiful, wasn't it? Though it had a sad ending. I hear, “Long, long live the walls we crashed through. Long live the magic we made and the mountains we moved. I had a time of my life fighting dragons with you. Bring all the pretenders; I'm not afraid. We'll be remembered.” You've been fortunate, my dear, pile 1, and you'll always be fortunate. If THAT BOOK and MANY CHAPTERS in it were so beautiful that the ending made you cry for months, then imagine what fate would have in store for you next?????? Have you ever thought of that? This magic that you walk with is what made you exceptional enough to have another beautiful and abundant story of your life. You changed your destiny. YOU GREW! Not everyone has the capability to come out of adverse situations this strong. You're ready. The new book is launching soon. It's time for an upgrade. Expect LOVE AND MIRACLES.

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Pile 2

Tarot Cards- Four of Wands, The Magician, Nine of Cups, Nine of Swords, Seven of Wands, Five of Wands

Were you attracted to pile 1 as well? (Or maybe you're attracted to someone whose life is like that of pile 1, lol.) The first card kind of said the same message I just wrote above. So if you were drawn to pile 1, then by all means read it too. I feel some of you feel so okay being a villain in someone's story. You just try to laugh off certain events that have hurt you quite deeply. Have you been having intense dreams lately? You feel fortunate to be able to have control over your emotional set points. You thought you would be alone in this journey, but the universe keeps talking to you no matter where you are! And you feel so mesmerized and fortunate to be on the receiving end of the divine guidance. I can see you smirk, lol. You're so much up in the sky thinking and thinking that you literally have to walk barefoot on Earth to ground yourself. Tell me how blessed you would feel if you were living in the mountains or somewhere where there were trees all around. You LOVE NATURE. Currently, you feel so blessed to be on Earth and experience the natural beauty. It's healing, and it has healed you. And flowers? You love flowers! You're a flower. Maybe someone related you to a particular flower. Or you may often buy flowers for some reason. It seems this pile has been through a lot when it comes to their health. Have you? There's a lot you need to take care of, like what you eat, how much you eat, your supplements, your skin, etc. Every day you're following one or the other self-care practice, and the moment after you finish it, you feel rejuvenated and healthier. Sometimes you fight a lot with yourself to maintain discipline. Be gentle with yourself because it seems you've come a long way and that too alone. You learned all alone what your body needs and what works for you. And yes, keep spending time in nature. It's healing you. Your cards say that very clearly. You're doing it right. Maybe since last December you started taking more care of yourself, and this coming December or 2.5 months from now you'll see huge improvement in your health. You may not have been fortunate in having the support of your loved ones, but you have always been supported by God, and for that, I feel you're really grateful.

Your energy seems like that of the movie ‘Little Forest'. You know how to make yourself feel warm in cold weather. You also remind me of this K-drama named “When the weather is fine.”.

Someone would feel so fortunate to be around you because they think very highly of you and sometimes even feel that you're not their cup of tea. Very few of you are expecting a child (maybe that's why you are taking care of your health) or are about to get married. Some sort of marriage/union is on the cards. Just know you're not alone. And whatever is around you loves you dearly. You just need to learn to handle criticism well because in the past you've been rejected so much that you've become so comfortable in your own company. This upcoming full moon seems to have something good in store for you. Nevertheless, you have your reasons to have this safe space because you have created this serene energy around you, which you needed after a tough war. Just try to be a little social, keeping your boundaries intact. Do you literally dream of marrying someone or had a dream where you were getting married? Union and celebration are on the cards. It seems that you're fighting yourself when it comes to this wish of yours. Did you confess your love to someone in December? (Very specific) Or that's when you met someone, talked to them, or started weaving this wish of yours. Someone's birthday can be in December. You're definitely enjoying your sovereignty at this point. I hear, “When you're young, they assume you know nothing.” Maybe you've really been criticized for your opinions, and that made you go silent and refrain from expressing them. Hufff...my dear pile 2, there's deafening silence in your reading now. I hear, “Since the love that you left is all that I get, I need you to know that if I can't be close to you, then I'll settle for the ghost of you. Young blood thinks there's always tomorrow. I need more time, but time can't be borrowed. If you can't be next to me, your memory is ecstasy.”

Now, I'll say whatever this dream is, know that you're worthy of having it. Whoever this person is, they really think highly of you. It does seem that you're trying to move toward better days, but your emotions come in between. At one moment you feel so optimistic toward this wish of yours, and in another moment your mind turns against you. I hear you saying to yourself, “Oh, don't be so stupid.” Your emotions go up and down. You felt REALLY FORTUNATE when you stopped pursuing this wish, thinking that it's the right decision you're making for some reason. But it seems it was your ego stopping you. I hear, “I can't save us.” Maybe at times you feel you can't save yourself and your dream. Look how the reading took a u-turn. Your energy isn't balanced, my dear, pile 2. I also hear, “Sometimes I look in her eyes, and that's where I find the glimpse of us.” It seems that fortune lies on the other end of your fear. So go for what you have always dreamed of. And if you think you cannot then just let it go. Don't hold your dreams even in your memories. Choice is yours!

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Pile 3

Tarot Cards- Six of Cups, The Star, Justice, Page of Swords, Tower, Eight of Wands

How many of you applied nailpaint or cut your nails recently wondering how would God or an enlightened being respond/would've responded in a certain situation? I feel that there has been pressure from your parents or an authority figure to be a certain way, but you aren't what they have you in their image. You're someone better than their image, someone different, but you don't know how to show that. You put yourself in everyone's shoes (and they are fortunate to have you in their lives), but it seems you don't get that in return. But let me tell you, you won't. Not because life isn't fair but because you start overdoing it; you start walking in other people's shoes and on others's paths. That's how you lost yourself (if you were wondering how you turned into someone you weren't). But now you know better. Better late than never. Maybe something ended or came into light in the month of August (very specific). I hear, “To live for the hope of it all, cancel plans in case you'd call...you weren't mine to lose. But I can see us lost in the memory as August slipped away into a moment of time.” You sacrificed yourself too much for others. Though you are at a stage where you're supposed to rewrite your story and redefine yourself, know that you'll get success in resolving your problems. You're protected from the negative energies beyond your control. I am getting the message that you need to learn to balance your root chakra and keep your feet clean at all times (idk why I channeled that!). Life will naturally bring in opportunities where your best side will come out and people around you will witness it. An advice that is coming for you is to stay clear of any drama from now on.

Because slowly but surely you're moving ahead, so it's important that you keep yourself protected at all times. Don't get yourself involved in others's business as well. It's time for you to have lighthearted days. It seems that you're very fortunate to come out of a situation that was burning your dreams and who you truly are. So at this time it's important you realize your blessings and take care of YOUR needs first. I am channeling the song ‘If we have each other' by Alec Benjamin. “When the world's not perfect, when the world's not kind, if we have each other, we'll both be fine. I am thankful for my sister even though we fight.” Someone—maybe your mother, brother, or sibling—was there for you in difficult times. You're very fortunate to have someone who always looks out for you. The people close to you see you as a star. They KNOW you're amazing! Don't you ever worry about that! You'll be very fortunate to have justice in the area where you gave too much but didn't receive anything in return. Some part of the justice has happened. It's time that you receive the love you deserve, and justice will fully be served. I see you've been cooking lately. Perhaps you should pursue cooking as a side thing. I don't know it may be specific for a very few of you.

You're slowly learning about life and seeing the world from a different perspective. Consistent ideas after ideas are coming. One narrative ends and another emerges, and then that dies too, only for a new one to come to the surface. You're spiritually growing, so keep going, pile 3. New creative ideas are about to come left and right that will pave a way for you to build the life you always wanted to. You'll soon be working toward a dream of yours. The universe is preparing you to receive these ideas well, and soon, brick by brick, you'll be creating a castle of your dreams.

I don't know why cooking and baking are coming again and again. Maybe it's a form of therapy for you. No more staying stuck in your head, my dear pile 3. Your energy seems like that of a stubborn child. Who made mistakes and now is learning from them? But you're a quick learner, so it seems that you're no longer in pain but very glad where you are. I see books. Maybe some of you're bookworms or are being called to read more. I also hear, “I'll never fall in love again until I find THE ONE.” You're keeping your boundaries strong and making yourself mentally stronger. You've been quite naive and trusted people easily. It seems you had wounds that needed to be healed, and now they are healing. You seem like a very young soul who is just learning about the world. If you resonate as an old soul, then this pile isn't for you.

You definitely have great qualities, but you're new here, so you needed some tough lessons. But I truly feel you deserve gentleness more than anything. But such gentleness could have led you to trust everybody. You need gentleness with strong boundaries (writing this at 3:33).

Protect, protect, and protect yourself. Your spirit team is keeping you away from negative energies, but you need to stand up for yourself too. And you do have space and opportunities to protect yourself and live a gentle life filled with laughter. Your own gentleness and the support around you are your fortune, pile 3.

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#fortune telling #fortunate #pick a pile reading #pick a card #pick a pile #tarotcommunity #tarot card reader #channeled message #message for the collective #messages from the universe #divine messages #psychic readings #intuitive tarot reader #intuitive guidance #tarot card reading #pick a pile tarot #spirit guidance #tarot readings #collective reading

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prince-liest · 7 months ago

Note

TBH I maintain that the funniest thing about Vox is that he IS clearly cunning and charismatic and competent, but also all of that flies out the window whenever Alastor shows up. Every single time.

I know the Vees are supposed to be the main antagonists of season two, with special focus on Vox and Alastor, but like. I have little to no faith in Vox's ability to pull himself together as soon as Alastor confronts him.

God, this is EXACTLY what I want from season 2, hahaha. I genuinely really enjoy Vox having this hilarious contrast of normally being an extremely competent and charismatic CEO type that just loses literally all of his rizz around Alastor because he's too down bad. Him being so condescending to Valentino about not chasing after Angel Dust in canon being immediately followed by Vox himself having a public meltdown on live TV just because Val mentioned that Alastor is back was peak character moment to me. "Fu-u-uck!" + QAQ at the end of Stayed Gone lives in my mind rent free.

All that said, I just sometimes feel kinda bad because I mostly write Vox in the context of Alastor and I feel like sometimes I don't do him enough justice as a result, hahaha. I promise I think he's competent! I hope he does the equivalent of stepping on a rake and slamming himself in the face with the handle every time he sees Alastor in season 2, though.

#ask #personal #Anonymous #hazbin hotel #radiostatic

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taintandviolent · 1 year ago

Text

feed my Frankenstein ; Frankenkyle x reader

summary: stripper!reader decides to dress up like a zombie for Halloween, and when the girls bring Kyle to the strip club…. He makes the decision for himself that he’s going to be with his kind. w a r n i n g s: 5k words! stripper!reader, female reader, cunnilingus, rough sex, violence, mentions of blood, biting, graphic descriptions. kyle being a big, horny zombie who doesn't understand his strength. a/n: [🎃 part of lizzie's halloween fics! 🎃] probably some errors, whoops. I didn't want to label this as dead dove don't eat, but Kyle literally tries to eat reader, so be warned, I guess??? also my ending is very... cliff-hangery. don't come for me, this fic took on a life of its own very quickly. thank you for reading if you did!!! full fic & taglist under cut!↓ / ao3 link here! / ♪ recommended playlist here! ♪

You dab a stippling sponge against your neck, hiding an edge with a speckle of grey makeup. You’d put a lot of effort into your silly little zombie look - but it was Halloween after all, and hardly any of the other girls had dressed up. Sure, they’d started out in low-effort costumes of Dorothy Gale and Snow White, but as soon as those came off, they were just their normal selves again. You… not so much. You went the extra mile. You’d spent hours applying prosthetics on your limbs, and painting your flesh to mimic the rotting corpses seen in cult classic horror films. Specks of blood around your perfectly lined lips, uneven skin, stitches from your neck down the front of your body.

It wouldn’t be everyone’s cup of tea, you knew. Some of them would lose their boners at the sight. It was time for your first shift. The club was rowdy, you heard it from behind the door. You lean against it, gulp down the last of your water, and fluff your hair before spinning on your red, patent leather heels and pulling open the door.

“I don’t know if this is such a good idea, Madison…” Zoe confesses, nervously. She holds onto Kyle’s arm tightly, guiding him around a booth like an elderly man. He was already entranced by the vibrant lights that swept back and forth in shades of orange and green. It reminded him of his show. Colours….

“Oh, please.” With a roll of her eyes, Madison flips her blonde hair over her shoulder. “This is the best place to put a braindead man… look, they’re everywhere.”

Men cluster around the stage, watching hungrily as women take their clothes off, gyrating their hips close enough to their faces that they could reach out and take bites out of their full asses. The bouncer in the corner makes sure that doesn’t happen, though.

Over the PA, a loud voice says: “Alright! Put your hands together for our resident nerdy girl, our very own reanimated sexpot…”

As though it was on hinges, Kyle’s head swings heavily to face the stage. H

“Look, he’s already fitting in.” Madison nips.

You prance forward, reaching for the pole in the centre of the stage. Men holler your name, the few regulars that came every night you were working. You’d earned yourself a reputation as the nerdy girl because of your penchant for dressing up on the themed nights. Your hips roll to the beat of the song, coming daringly close to the hands that hold dollar bills. When they don’t get the chance to slip them into your outfit, they flutter at your feet, decorating the stage. You undo the tie of your shirt, revealing white bikini with gratuitous blood spatter. You’d done that yourself.

You wrap one leg around the pole, latching onto it. As it spins, you reach behind your back, undoing the tie of your top. Your breasts fall free, nipples hardening in the air conditioning. You hold the bra out proudly, smiling as the hoots and cheers fill the room.

“C’mon,” she starts, taking hold of Kyle’s thick wrist. His skin is always slightly cooler than everyone else’s. She remembers how cold the inside of his mouth was when they first — She blinks away the thoughts, actually disgusted by the idea. After all, she’d never really wanted to fuck a dead guy…

“Hey!” “Watch it, sweetheart!” “Get outta’ the way, you’re blockin’ the view, toots!”

Madison ignores the heckling, and continues to the front, pressing her bony hips against the lip of the stage.

“Hey! Dead bitch!”

Her voice is loud enough that it carries over the music, and you furrow your brow. She wasn’t wrong, but the bitch part seemed unnecessary. Still, you make your way over to the cluster of them, and bend at the waist to hear her.

“Yeah - what?” You ask, still swaying to the song.

“This is our little zombie — ”

“His name is Kyle,” The other girl interrupts pointedly. Madison throws a look towards the other girl, who nods with a fake smile. Truly, she didn’t care what you called him. As long as she didn't have to deal with him, she was happy.

“Kyle — and he needs a babysitter. He’s a little…” she makes a face, stretching her mouth out in a sneer. You knit your brows together again, unsure what that means.

Kyle, you think to yourself. What a frat boy name. In fact, he looks like a frat boy with really really good makeup. Full head of curly blonde hair, dark eyes, strong but soft features… looks like he can absolutely devour a keg.

He’s wearing an open black shirt and jeans, and beneath the black shirt, you can see raised flesh, scars like he was put back together. Funny that you’d chosen to do a dance number to Feed my Frankenstein.

“Do your job and keep him entertained, okay?” She pulls the peeking string of your thong far enough out to freely press a one hundred dollar bill against your hip and lets go. It snaps back against your skin, hard enough to sting. You wince.

Before you have time to protest, the girls are walking back towards the entrance without their little zombie in tow. One of them casts a woeful glance over her shoulder, and you’re left wondering why if she cares so much, why was she still walking away? You fill your lungs with air, exhale and lower yourself down onto your haunches.

“Hey baby,” you coo, wrapping a single blonde curl around your index finger. It’s angel-soft, and bounces back as you let go, straightening up. He seems to melt towards your touch, starved for it. “I like your costume.”

He watches as your ample cleavage sways with the gentle motion of your body. He repeats the word back to you, laboriously. “Cos…tume….”

“That’s right,” you say, running your hands over your thighs as you stand upright. The long heels of the shoes elongate your legs, making you tower over the club’s patrons. “I like it, it’s cute.”

Kyle watches wordlessly as your hands glide over your body, carefully skipping over the stitches at your knees, along your stomach, and finally up to the long stitch around your neck, which to him is holding your head on. Kyle’s eyes blink repeatedly with recognition.

You dip down, reaching for his hand. The crowd woooo’s as you hand him the string of your skirt. He grips it hard before looking at it deeply. You take one step back, flashing a coy expression to the men in the front row. Another step, and the tie begins to slip through the bow, unravelling. Another step and the skirt falls to your feet. A cacophony of approval fills your ears.

You’re in nothing but the blood-spattered bikini bottoms now, and you sink to your knees again, flashing Kyle a bright smile. He blinks, your skirt awkwardly hanging from his hand by the string.

On all fours, you crawl towards him, popping your ass to the beat of the song. Dollar bills shower the stage, and when you slide your knees out to the sides, allowing men a delicious view of your backside, someone tucks another $100 in your bikini.

Kyle is watching you, but his hands drop to his groin where he makes a fist, and rubs it awkwardly over his now-throbbing erection. You immediately notice this, and your eyes widen. That’s a sure fire way to get kicked out, and for whatever reason, you’ve clocked him as too innocent to let that happen. There’s either a) something wrong with him, or b) he’s really committed to acting like a clueless, braindead boy. Both options require action.

“Okay, okay,” you murmur, guiding him to the side of the stage. There’s an empty chair, and with a heel, you push him back into it. Sit. Stay. He does. Good boy.

He never takes his eyes off you though, and every time you’re looking at him, his jaw hangs slack, staring at you with half-lidded eyes. He keeps trying to get up, and you have to slowly shake your head at him, teasingly. He seems to understand that gesture, and stays put.

As you dance, you find yourself watching him, too. Inexplicably drawn to him, for whatever reason. You don’t usually take guys to the back, but $100 is a pretty good tip. Besides, you didn’t want to run into that girl again, and especially not angry.

As your routine comes to an end, Kyle gets up out of his chair, knocking into the edge of the stage. A few guys turn their heads, trying to figure out what this guy’s deal is. You’re too busy picking up your tips, and gathering your clothes to notice. With arms full, you race to the back, throw on a t-shirt and bolt back to the front, praying that Kyle is still where you left him.

He is. He may be trying to climb up on the stage, head craning in the direction of where you exited, but he's still there. You heave a relieved sigh, and saunter up to him, softening your expression.

“Hi, Kyle…” you murmur sweetly. You slip your arm underneath his, linking it with yours and softly pulling him down into a normal standing position again. There’s a small moment of processing and trust before he looks at you and smiles very weakly.

Destinee is next, and while she’s a nice girl, you absolutely loathe her taste in lighting. You enjoy a good rave, sure, but this is like the Electric Daisy Carnival in a much, much smaller space.

You learn very quickly that Kyle doesn’t like it either. At all. In fact, he might dislike it more than you. As soon as the beat is thumping and the bright red and orange lights are washing over the establishment, Kyle wrenches away from you, covering his ears. A low groan starts in his throat, bubbling up through his lips until he’s practically screaming.

“Shhh, shh it’s okay!” You try desperately to console him, but he can’t seem to hear you. Glancing nervously at the guests around you who are starting to take notice of him now, you smile apologetically. “Kyle, it’s okay!”

There’s only one solution - the private dance rooms. They’re quiet, secluded and a perfect spot to store a stressed out zombie boy for a few hours. You looked towards the spiral staircase that led upstairs, and hesitated. You were a dancer who rarely used the private rooms. You had been hard pressed to avoid being alone with any man, especially one that had paid you and felt entitled to whatever he wanted to take. Kyle, however, didn’t seem like the type to… well, do that. Or even articulate that he wanted to do that — did he even understand that you’d been paid to babysit him? Likely not.

You force his hand down as gently as possible, interlacing your fingers with his. “Kyle,” you say. “Kyle, look at me.”

His head moves sluggishly, and his eyes gradually follow. He looks at you with big, black eyes, the surrounding skin darkened and mottled. In the changing lights, he looks so lost, and your heart throbs desperately. Shucking the worries of whispers aside, you lead him through the club towards the wrought iron staircase.

“Hey Lance,” you say. “Private room open?”

“They sure are…” he replies with a large grin, his heavy accent coming through. Lance was one of the bouncers and rotated positions, so you had gotten semi-close with him. He enjoyed your presence and penchant for the strange. “Last door on da’ left.”

With Kyle in tow, you head down the long, red hallway. Each of the doors were painted black, with gold trim. Kyle’s gaze travels from each door, picking up on the various sounds that seeped from behind them.

“Okay…” You say, your voice a touch softer than before as you push open the last door, praying that it’s been cleaned adequately. You cock your head to the side, urging him inside. His concerned eyes swept from you to the door and back to you before he finally decided that it was safe enough for him to enter. “Look, no strobe lights. No loud music. Just you and me.”

“You… and me….” He grumbles. The door clicks shut behind you. His words are painfully slow and slurred, but you can’t help be charmed by the innocence of them. “You…. You’re…. l-like me.”

“That’s right, baby… I’m like you.” In a quiet, joking whisper, you say: “Raaaaauuuuggghhhhhh…. Brains.”

Kyle seems to like this. The tiniest of smiles forms on his mouth. His chest heaves, and without warning, he lunges for you. His strong arms wrap around you in a steely grip that at first terrifies you; your arms are pinned at your sides, locked into place. His tongue slips over your collarbone, wet and cool like he’s just finished eating ice cream. It slips over your neck, along your jawline, and up behind your ear. He’s licking you, devouring you with such pressure that he has to have eaten some of the makeup by this point. You wince as he nips at your ear lobe, his teeth grinding down on the flesh. With some inhuman gurgle, he descends, covering your chest in his saliva.

You were used to men being hungry for you, acting like rabid dogs the second that they caught a glimpse of your plump tits or your juicy ass. It was part of the gig, came with the territory. But not this. This guy was on something. Had to be. Without warning, he yanks your cropped shirt up, and his jaws clamp down on the meat of your exposed breast. You yelp, pushing him off. He looks hurt or confused, or maybe both. Immediately, you scramble, feeling like you’ve just taken candy from a child.

“Hey no.. it’s okay. You can bite me… I like being bit. But not too hard, honey… that hurt.”

He doesn’t understand. Or he doesn’t look like he understands. His brows knit together sadly, while the dark, ink pools he has for eyes glaze over.

“….biiiiiiiiiiiiiite….” He says.

“Softly,” you finished, with your cutest zombie voice. “Biiiiite soft…ly….”

He cranes forward, mouth finding your flesh again. His teeth continue to graze your skin, slightly softer than before though, so maybe he does understand. His tongue lolls out sloppily to taste every inch. He nears the jumbled up mess of liquid latex on your elbow, and you expect him to stop, or skip over it — but he doesn’t. He feels uneven, soft flesh and his front teeth clamp down on it with a guttural sound. He rears his head back far enough for the liquid latex to streeeetch, and snap.

This gorgeous, blonde boy has a chunk of faux flesh hanging from between his teeth. Fake blood dots his pale lips, and he’s looking at you with the most confused expression you’ve ever seen on a man. It’s a grisly sight, really, but it fits the theme of the night. He’s committed to the zombie act, you’ll give him that.

“Hey, hey, take it easy, spit that out…” You reach up, rubbing the fake blood off his bottom lip. flatten your slender fingers on his broad chest, skin smooth like stone except for the deep scars. These are really good prosthetics. You can’t even see the seam. Because there aren’t any…

Like a dog, he drops the wrinkly skin-toned mass from his mouth and frowns. He looks genuinely disappointed, like he expected blood and guts. “B-bad… th-that… didn’t taste….. gooood…” he stammers. "Hun..gry…..”

For a moment, you’re frozen. Your realization clicks into place painfully slowly, slower than his brain seems to move. He’s really too good at the whole zombie act, and a panicked thought writhes its way into your mind, penetrating it the way that a tissue absorbs blood. Just sucks it in, becomes a part of it. No, no way.

Heavily masking the nerves in your voice, you clear your throat and reach for his shoulder. You stroke the smooth roundness of it, raking your nails against his skin. “You want something that tastes good, baby?”

That ‘something good' is your cunt. You’ll let him eat you out so you can think. You assume he’ll eat you out like most men do — boringly — and you can process the realisation that this poor creature in front of you is actually really badly scarred, and possibly, a victim of head trauma, or something. Because there’s no way you’re meeting an actual zombie. Even on Halloween in New Orleans. That’s insane. So, you’re going to let him eat you out while you sort this out in your mind.

That was the plan, anyway.

Except the second you sink into the vinyl chair, he’s on his knees, looking at your pretty cunt with hungry eyes and the visual wipes your brain clean. It was like you put a plate of food in front of a starving man. His mouth opens. You untie both sides of your underwear, letting them fall to the floor. His eyes drop heavily, watching every move.

At first, his tongue juts out, curiously tasting what you’ve put in front of him. It presses between your folds, pauses, before wiggling around. Your eyelids flutter; you were ready to zone out, but Kyle’s inexperience, his curiosity feels so good.

“Good,” he growls, the word vibrating your cunt. His cool breath washes over your core, sending a chill up your spine. He delves deeper, tasting more of you.

His tongue flicks at your clit, flipping the swollen bundle of nerves mercilessly. Your whole body is trembling, and you feel the first of your orgasms rushing towards your centre. Carefully, not wanting to scare him, you grip his angel curls and ride his mouth slightly. Shit. Almost instantly, the throbbing starts and you make a mess of his poor boy’s face, squirting over his lips and chin.

“You like that?” You ask, through uneven pants. The first of the night always feels sooo good.

He nods heavily on your cunt, still lapping up the juices that leak from your slick hole. Your legs start to quiver and a fire burns deep within your cunt. You try to pat his shoulders, wordlessly telling him to stop. His tongue delves in, and he freezes.

“Kyle?” You ask nervously. Unconsciously, you clench around his tongue. He snaps to life, like someone flipped a switch in his brain. His strong arms wrap around the front of your thighs, tightly. Very tightly. He starts to pull you off the chair, lifting you up into his arms. Your ass cheeks are pressed against his chest and the back of your head is on the chair’s cushion now. He’s holding you tightly, upside down, still swallowing mouthfuls of your sopping wet cunt. He can’t seem to hear your desperate, pleading cries to stop.

You blink back tears, your vision throbs. You don’t know if it’s because the blood is very obviously rushing to your head, or because you’re coming again so quickly, but he’s drilling his tongue into your cunt like there’s a cream centre. If there is, he’s found it.

A scream fills your lungs and your body lunges upwards, trying to find leverage — something, anything to hold onto. She clenches again, pulsating around his cold, slippery tongue. Kyle’s practically drinking you with each clench. The overstimulation is crippling, and you can’t help but scream out.

“KYLE! STOP!”

At the shrill sound, he immediately drops you and your body hits the ground with a heavy thud. Your ass aches a little from the fall, but it’s nothing that’s going to ruin the night.

He’s frowning at you, his lips and chin glazed with your cum.

“S-sorry…” he grumbles. “Sorry. Bad.”

“No, no… not bad. Accident. Accident. Kyle?”

You call his name and he’s looking at you with those big, hopeful, dark eyes of his. You can tell — he isn’t sure if you’re going to scold him, or praise him and the uncertainty terrifies him. You get to your knees, crawling towards the sofa. Once you’re up on it, you pat the spot next to you three times.

“Can I see?” You gesture to your own body, tracing the remaining prosthetics with a single finger before pointing to him. He looks down, his bottom lip jutting out. He nods after a few seconds and lumbers over to you, sitting down heavily.

Your fingers dance over his skin. He was literally pieced back together. His head, his arms, his legs, the lower half of his torso… he was sewn back together like Frankenstein. Different parts connected as one. You’re sitting next to an actual zombie.

And then it dawns on you. Those girls. You’d seen them before. You knew their faces. They lived in the massive mansion on Jackson Avenue. They were witches. Witches were a dime a dozen in New Orleans — in fact, it was weirder if you didn’t practice some kind of craft. But zombies… you’d only ever heard stories. You’d never seen one, let alone be eaten out by one.

You stroke Kyle’s broad chest. For being a zombie, he’s surprisingly soft. You’d always imagined them as dried out, crusty creatures, but he only had a few patches of dry skin. In fact, he had more patches where you could see dark blue pooling underneath his skin, where blood had settled after death. He is cold however, and that’s the most jarring part.

You ease him back on the leather sofa, making sure his head goes down softly onto the arm rest.

“It’s okay, Kyle…. I like your body.”

“Costume….” He says. You shake your head.

“Body. Body.”

His hips give the tiniest little buck, and it slips between your ass cheeks. He whimpers, trying to get a visual of what he’s feeling. Gradually, his thrusts increase in pressure, and you adjust for your own pleasure.

When you adjust, forcing his cock to slide in between your cunt instead, he feels the slick warmth, and his feral nature returns, stronger than before. His thrusts pick up, and he seems to realise that you are a living thing, with pulsing blood and a throbbing heartbeat. Something else is throbbing again, too.

You whine and match his thrusts, letting your head loll back.

Kyle has a different idea, and before you can stop him, he has your forearm in his mouth, teeth clamped down on the soft, warm flesh. It only takes a few seconds for you to feel the stinging ache consuming your arm. It hurts… bad. The muscles in your fingers contract, twitching limply. He aggressively shakes his head, and your heart drops. The terror sets in, and you’re suddenly running cold.

“Kyle, no- OW! KYLE!”

He shakes his head again, biting down harder and digging his the ridges of his teeth deeper into your skin. You don’t necessarily feel the flesh tear, somewhere near the top, but you certainly feel the warm flow of blood that drips down your arm, dribbling onto his chest. Your pupils dilate. The blood keeps flowing, and you feel him start to rear his head back. Something pulls back with him. The ache is replaced by a searing burn, and you realise that if he pulls back any further, he’s going to pull off skin. You’re panicking now, and don’t know what else to do but try again. This time though, you roar at him, bringing back your zombie voice. It’s not so cute this time. “Raaaaaaaaauhhhhhh, KYLE. KYLE STOP. STOP!”

You try to rip your arm away from his mouth, while pushing his head. Thankfully, his powerful jaw goes slack and your arm slides out, strings of spit stretching from his lips. Your blood is smeared across his chin and bottom lip, and collects in the corners of his mouth.

With your vision bouncing thanks to Kyle’s furious thrusting, you look at your arm, watching the bright crimson well up in the indentations of the bite mark. Amidst the rest of your makeup, the bite doesn’t look out of place. You hold your arm out further, trying to come up with a story for this one. Maybe the makeup had stained in an absolutely mind-blowing way. And you had a reaction to it, hence the bizarre swelling and scabbing. That sounds good, sounds believable.

“Want… more…” He says, and your stomach drops, praying that he doesn’t mean more flesh. You’re not sure you can handle another one. Mid-thrust, Kyle’s thick, veiny cock angles just right and slips into your cunt. She swallows him easily, still wet from being eaten — a mixture of cum and Kyle’s viscid, slimy saliva. You plant both hands on his chest, letting out a breathy, melodic moan. He feels good enough to make you forget about the bite, and as you begin to ride him, it seems that he forgets too.

You’re taking control, grinding on top of him, using his cock like your own personal toy. It’s hitting every spot you want it to, pressing into your walls with its girth, and you can’t help but whine about it. Pausing to smear your blood across Kyle’s chest with your middle finger, you leave deep, red streaks across pale skin. You shouldn't find that hot, but you do.

Kyle wraps both hands around your waist, pulling you down onto his cock relentlessly, each thrust feeling harder than the last. You lean forward, pressing your tits against his almost bare chest, and allowing him to take control, thrusting his cock up into you. The slightly bent positioning of his cock, head grinding against your spongy insides is enough to make you cum right then. You don’t though, holding back, clenching your pussy as tight as you can.

“You like it, Kyle?” You ask, through shaky pants. “You like that?”

Kyle nods, heavily, his darkened eyes watching the way that your body quivers on top of him, wordlessly marvelling at the way your thigh muscles contract and shake on top of him every time he slips out, and buries himself inside your dripping pussy again. He loves how it feels, even if he can’t articulate it the way he wants to, the sensations are everything he wants. Everything.

He grips you harder, lifting you off his cock and slamming you back down, repeating this violent display of strength over and over again. Your cunt shudders, unable to hold back your orgasm any longer. Kyle feels it first, and the sudden tightness has him growling, snarling and pushing his length into you as deep as he can. Kyle digs his heels into the sofa, lifting his legs. You feel the pressure against your cervix as he bottoms out, and press against his cock, forcing his cock deeper into you, until you feel the ache. You ride out the waves of your own orgasm, feeling his as it comes in thick, sticky ropes.

There’s a gentle knock at the door, and you quickly get to your feet, pulling your shirt over your head. You scramble, trying to find the bikini bottoms and once they’re tied, you throw open the door. It’s Lance, who is looking very concerned. Your legs are pressed tightly together, in fear that Kyle’s load is going to start dripping down your thighs and onto the floor.

“Miss Y/N. The club is closing… are you alright in there?”

Closing? What? It was bareley eleven when you brought him into the room. The seedy, slick realisation that you’d been fucking this zombie for almost four hours made your cheeks blossom with heat. You immediately tuck your bitten arm behind the door, flashing Lance a charming smile.

“Yes! Fine! Just uh, finishing up a dance. Hey - Lance… did two girls ever come back, asking for this blonde guy in here?”

He pauses, thinking. After a few moments, he shakes his head and apologises.

Okay, guess he’s coming home with me, then. “Thank you, Lance. I’ll be down in just a second.”

You shut the door and lean against it, looking at the zombie on the sofa. He’s staring up at the ceiling, a small smile on his face. “Kyle, do you live on Jackson Street? Where do you live?”

He sits up abruptly, turning his head to face you. “Uhm…” He murmurs. “Big…… white.”

“Big white house?” You repeat, making a house shape with your hands. He nods.

“You wanna’ go home?”

After throwing on a pair of dolphin shorts, collecting your duffel bag and giving Lance a generous tip, you have Kyle in tow, fingers laced tightly with his. Jackson Street was maybe a twenty minute walk, something you both could handle.

Despite it going on 3 AM, the streets were still filled with partiers, people in masks, and drinks in their hands. You and Kyle blend in as you walk, heading down the busy roads. Once you arrived at the Mansion, the gates were open, a fine mist spilling into the sprawling yard.

The woman who answers the door is beautiful, graceful and composed. She wears all black, her honey blonde hair cascading graceful over her shoulders.

“Good Evening,” she says.

“Good Evening. Um.. this is going to sound strange, even for Halloween, but, um…” You want to continue. Desperately, but for some reason, you already know the answer. He does belong here. As though she’d said it to you, plain as day, he belonged here, this is where he stayed.

Zoe and Madison must’ve forgotten him.

Your brows furrow, indignantly. How could they?

Cordelia’s plump lips flatten into a knowing smile. You swallow, suddenly feeling uneasy. You scratch at the liquid latex on your neck, fiddling uncomfortably with one of the edges of the prosthetic.

“Well, Kyle… here you go. Go with…?”

“Cordelia.”

“Cordelia. Go with Cordelia, you’re home now.”

Kyle seems somewhat hesitant, but when Cordelia holds out a hand, he obeys and lumbers inside, looking over his shoulder at you one last time.

“Thank you for bringing him home,” she says, softly. “Would you like to come inside?”

You consider that for a second. Deep within the wetness of your bones, and the warmth of your blood, you feel like you should. There’s something extremely comforting about this place, but… “No, no thank you. I should be getting home. It’s Halloween. Weird things happen on Halloween.”

She smiles again. “That’s quite a bite you have on your arm… did Kyle do that?”

“Oh, uh… yeah. He got a little excited earlier, I’m a dancer, and uh, y’know. Men.”

“I have something for that.”

You look down at your bite again, it looks nastier than before. You clear your throat, ready to reject and explain that your older sister is a nurse and she’ll help, but instead, and you’re not quite sure how that happened, you’re walking through the doors. Kyle is delighted to see you again, pausing on the grand staircase to look at you.

Cordelia’s hands end up being very, very soft.

t a g l i s t : @kaismanwich / @redwoodghost / @elsamars / @silverzoomies / @kaissweetlamb / @thewolveswithin / @80strashbag / @twinkiemaximoff / @spill-the-t / @stucktothetwo / @evansb1tch / @enchanting-evan / @petersevans / @yesdevineruler / @enchanting-evan / @anonymous0316 / @eventually27 / @violetharmonscupcake/ @my-own-walker / @kai-slut / @evanpetersfansblog / @fuckedbykai / @iluwmycats / @nova-kayne67 / @dewberryobssesed / @the-goblin1 / @dirtyfairy97 / @jellyluvr / @strangerthings420 / @kai-anderson-whore / @piecesofcain / @lilthbunny / @quickandsilvers / @tatelangdonsweater / @ifeeltoofuckingmuch / @howtobesasha / @randodummy / @throwinginmythai / @hyperharlz

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retromotherfuckers · 11 months ago

Text

Violet Eyes, Red

Pairing:

rhysand x reader (pretty sure it's gender neutral - there might be a "she" i missed while referring to you from the original draft bc second person pov is not how i write)

Summary:

you and your mate reunite after feyre defeats amarantha and this is the fallout of what the bitch did to him.

Warnings:

aftermath of SA - i can't really tell if it's graphic which tells me it is, loose description of a panic attack, PTSD, please let me know if I missed anything. guys, please, if these topics are triggering for you, don't read this fic. i am not responsible for your media consumption, but i also don't want to throw you headfirst into your trauma.

Word Count:

2,140

A/N:

literally broke my own damn heart with this one. rhys' trauma is so ignored and that needed to be rectified. rhys might be my second favorite bat boy, but he's still a lil baby who needs to be protected

The human girl had beaten her - the woman of his nightmares - once and for all. At the first moment he could, Rhysand winnowed. After fifty years, he knew there was only one place he could go. After all, it was the last Sunday of the month, and that Sunday was the day he and his mate reserved just for themselves. The High Lord and Lady would not conduct any business on that day.

You'd spend most of your day on the balcony. You'd serenade him with the piano. You'd fly around Velaris - creating patterns in the air. You'd cradle each other in your arms. He'd sketch out a new drawing - trying and failing, in his opinion, to encapsulate your true beauty.

One day, he broke that promise, that vow you had made, and went to what he thought was a simple trade meeting. That morning was the last day he saw you, and he still couldn't live with himself.

Those memories alone kept him breathing at times. When Amarantha stole his bed, his body, his hope.

Then the human girl showed up, and he tried to help her. Wanted to give her what she needed to beat the beast he didn't think he'd ever escape. But he had lost the will to pray for it. To the cauldron, to the Mother Above. Despite his pessimism, she persevered. The girl had won. And then he was free.

He was on the balcony before he could even think about it. After a quick glance around, he realized it was empty. At first, he felt a pulse of disappointment, but with the realization of how long it'd been, he breathed deeply. How could he expect you to keep up the tradition? Fifty years of solitude on those Sundays would have made him mad if your roles were reversed.

At the thought, he allowed himself to feel the mating bond. It had gone cold the moment he winnowed away all those years ago, but now it was as beautiful as he remembered. The pull of another person at the end of a tether, forever binding them in the purest forms of fate.

But he heard your thoughts, and he almost broke down in sobs at the sound of your voice in his head. Please come home, my love. I don't know how to do this anymore. Please. The last word, you were begging. Your inner voice, the one he had to get used to living without, was broken. Pleading for him to return - despite everything you'd probably heard.

And with that, he took action, winnowing to every room in the house so he would find you as soon as possible. He knew you were close; your scent wasn't stale. It was fresh, clinging to every piece of furniture you owned together.

It was the last room he checked, his office, where he found you. You sat in his desk chair; the leather more worn than he remembered. But the sight of you stopped him from rushing to you. Nursing a bottle of wine, you slouched on your elbows, hands in your hair, as more thoughts streamed through the bond.

I'm losing myself, Rhys. I don't know how much more of this I can take. I can't let myself believe you won't come back because that- that will ruin me. What she's doing to you, what she's making you do. I don't even know a fraction of it, but I can't stop it. I- I can't protect you. And I hate myself for it.

He was watching you as you sent the words down the bond, the bond that had been desolate for half a century. You run your hands down your face, not looking up from your wine, the third of many you planned to drown in.

Just get through it. Please just- just survive. Do what you have to do to come home. I'll be here. I love you. My mate.

You'd only allowed yourself to talk to him once a month. Initially, you would try to send him something every day. Thoughts, images, songs you'd learned, prayers for him. You never heard anything back, and it slowly started eating away at you. It shattered your hope every time you didn't get a response.

You'd heard the rumors, Amarantha's whore, he'd been called. Every time you heard it, it ate away at you more and more. As if he would choose that - choose to warm the bed of another when you were waiting for him at home. You knew him better than that, and you winced at the thought. He wouldn't choose it, but would she force him? Was she that much of a monster?

You had to shake that thought away for the thousandth time that night, downing the rest of the glass. As you reach for the bottle, nearly empty at that point, a hand wraps around your wrist. The touch is gentle but firm - stopping you from drinking more, but not rough enough to hurt. Instead of startling at it, the wine slows your instincts. You can only stare. The tattoos on the dorsal side interweave into vines under the sleeve. Vines you know, vines that you've held, vines that have and will continue to have free rein of your body.

Faster than you thought you were capable of, your eyes flew to its owner's eyes. Violet. The most ravishing violet. Violet you'd feared you were forgetting.

With a new urgency, you pulled yourself to your feet, your hands flying up to his face without thinking. One on his cheek, the other on his neck, pushing, pulling, grabbing, unsure if it was your mind playing tricks on you.

In your desperate touch, you missed the way he flinched.

His hands. Mother Above, his beautiful hands were on your neck too, placed at the sides. When your mind would play you for a fool, it would never let you touch him, let alone allow him to reach you. But there he was, and you could feel him. You tugged at the bond, finally noticing it was warm and delicate and sweet and serene and everything you wished you knew how to describe.

He breathed your name, barely a whisper. "I'm home, my darling. I'm home."

"You're here." The words barely escaped you, and you couldn't stop the tears. He didn't hesitate a moment, pulling you in for a frustratingly rare and fierce embrace. You clung to each other for dear life, tighter and tighter and tighter, like he'd disappear if you let him go. Frankly, you weren't convinced he wouldn't. "You're really here."

You stood like that for a while, holding each other, when he ultimately pulled away first. "Rh-Rhys, don't go-"

"I'm not," he promised, his voice raw, kissing your forehead. He took in every inch of your face. "I just wanted to look at you. My mate."

Since Rhys had been freed by the human girl, nothing had been normal. Not that you expected it to be, but you didn't anticipate just how awful a recovery for him would be. He couldn't share your bed, and you didn't mean that in a sexual manner. He couldn't sleep with anyone else in his room - if he had even been sleeping at all. He could barely stand to be touched. You knew he wanted to be able to let you, but every time you seemed to blink, he would flinch.

You had suspicions about what went on under the mountain, but you had no idea it would be so evil.

He stood before a cabinet, staring blankly into it, lost in a memory - a memory he'd been refusing to share. You understood why, but something in you told you that you needed to see. Not just for curiosity's sake but to know how to help him. Even if it was past your pay grade.

"Rhys," You called quietly for the second time. You didn't want to touch him, shock him back to reality. The fear of that setting him off more held you back. With a harsh and sudden breath, he fearfully glanced at you and around the room, forgetting where he was for a moment. "You're at home, Rhys. You came home."

"I'm sorry," He rasped, ignoring your words. His hands pulled at his hair, and you were nervous he'd start ripping it out. He backed away from you, so far away he was caught by the wall. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Your own formed at the sight of his tears, but you couldn't conjure up what he'd have to apologize for. "It's okay, honey, you're safe. It's okay."

"I didn't- I didn't want it. I swear on my life, I didn't want to."

You shook your head, not understanding. But you knew asking what he was apologizing for was the wrong thing to do. You could see it, the shame, the regret, the blame. "I know you didn't."

He squeezed his eyes shut, buried his face in his hands, and sank to the floor. He kept murmuring apologies, pleading for your forgiveness. "I betrayed you, you have to- you have to leave me."

His words shocked you, and now you were the one that flinched. "Rhysand, look at me." He visibly shrunk at the command, pulling his hands away from his face. "As far as I'm concerned, anything that happened...there...is the furthest thing from your fault. I know there are things you can't tell me, and that's okay. I'll be here when you're ready-"

"I can't!" He bellowed. "You'll never forgive-"

"Show me the memory." You demanded, your voice quiet but assertive. But you wouldn't push too hard if he was adamant about keeping you out. You knew. You knew. Based on the way he had been acting, what had happened. But you also knew he needed to show you. So someone, fucking someone, would tell him it was out of his control. He couldn't govern everything, even if he was the High Lord of the Night Court. The words hurt as they left your lips. "Because I can promise you that I will."

You weren't a daemati, but you could see him battling with himself. Debating, if showing you what really happened, would bury him deeper under the surface or pull him back up for air.

Eventually, he released a rare sob and a barely audible "Okay."

He showed you the first time, how he just laid there like a statue as her hands took everything for herself. Then, the fifth time, when she started demanding he respond, pretend he wanted it. Then, the eleventh time, when his body started reacting. Then, by the next time, he had stopped keeping count.

He showed you, whether he meant to or not, how he prayed for it to end, prayed for someone to rescue him.

How he had been praying for you.

With the confirmation of your theory, you squeezed your eyes shut, trying and failing to hold back the tears. The angry tears, wishing you could've been the one to rip her throat out. Tears that enraged you because that was not Tamlin's kill. Furious tears because that wasn't even your kill. Devastating tears because your mate not only had to play a character for so long, but he had to endure being called her whore. Like he had any fucking say.

Overwhelming tears because your mate was in pain and there was shit all you could do about it.

"Can I touch you?" The question shocks him, but he nods without thinking, confused at the request. You slowly lift your hands to his cheeks, brushing away his tears with your thumbs. "There is nothing for me to forgive you for. I know you didn't want to do any of it."

"But I-"

"Bodies respond to stimulation whether it's wanted or not. It's how we work." You explained slowly and carefully, keeping direct eye contact. "You forget, sweetheart. I can hear your thoughts when you show me a memory."

"I've-" His voice caught, putting his hands on your wrists, rubbing them up and down your arms until they got hot. "I've been so scared. That it's still happening. That all of this is going to go away, that she's not really gone, that I'm not really here, and this is just another tactic-"

You shake your head, finally pulling yourself together to say what you've wanted to say for weeks. "I swear on my life that I will never let anyone hurt you like that again. I will spend eternity protecting you from her and anyone like her. And if you forget that this is real, just ask me. I'll tell you."

His eyes darted between yours, furiously blinking. Violet eyes, red. Pleading craving begging praying.

"Is it?"

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