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mediocre-shark-tales · 1 day ago

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Brazilian GP

Masterlist

Trigger Warning- slow burn of increasing themes including sexism, SA, depression, and implied grooming

Arriving at the Brazilian paddock, the humid air immediately wrapped around me, thick and heavy with the promise of rain. I walked side by side with my race engineer, Landon, who was reading off his tablet as we made our way toward the team building.

“So, just a heads-up,” he started, glancing over at me, “the forecast isn’t looking great for the weekend. Heavy rain is expected during potentially during qualifying and also the race. The race might dry out, but it’s gonna be close.”

I grinned, feeling a little spark of excitement light up in my chest. “Rain, huh? Sounds like it’s gonna be fun.”

Landon raised an eyebrow at me, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement. “You’re the only driver on the grid who calls rain fun.”

“Hey, can’t help it,” I shrugged. “Wet races are my thing. Blame teenage me for that.”

He smirked, clearly intrigued. “Teenage you, huh? What’d she do, enroll in rain driving school or something?”

“Not exactly,” I replied, the memory drawing a small laugh from me. “Off-season boredom was my teacher. Back when I didn’t have much to do, I’d find empty roads or parking lots when it rained, crank the wheel, and let the car drift. It was the perfect way to burn off energy and practice handling low traction.”

Landon gave me a mock look of disapproval. “And this is the kind of behavior we’re supposed to encourage in kids these days?”

“Absolutely not,” I said, deadpan, then grinned. “But you can’t blame me. Adrenaline deprivation is a serious condition for a teenager in the off-season.”

He let out a laugh. “I’ll give you that. Guess it worked out in the end. Your wet-weather skills are basically legendary at this point.”

“Let’s hope they hold up,” I said, my tone turning a little more serious. “If I can keep the car on the track and avoid anyone spinning out too close to me, I should be fine.”

“You’ll do more than fine,” Landon said confidently. “But just to be safe, let’s go over the setup for wet conditions later. I want to make sure you’ve got everything you need to stay ahead.”

“Sounds good,” I said, nodding.

As we approached the team building, the faint rumble of thunder echoed in the distance, a reminder of what the weekend had in store. While some drivers dreaded wet weekends, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of anticipation. Rain had a way of leveling the playing field and letting skill shine through. This was my chance to show everyone—again—why I deserved to be here.

And, as I reminded myself, it was a distraction. The rain would demand my full focus, leaving little room for the creeping thoughts of Henry or the weight of everything else going on.

The moment I stepped into the garage, I could already feel the weight of the dreaded engineering pre-weekend meeting with Henry looming over me. The hustle and noise of the team getting everything prepped for the weekend provided little comfort when I spotted him standing near the back, holding his ever-present clipboard. He was scanning the space until his eyes landed on me, a too-familiar smug grin spreading across his face.

“Ah, there she is,” he called out, closing the distance between us far too quickly. Before I could react, his arm draped across my shoulder. I stiffened instinctively, but he didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he just didn’t care.

“Let’s get started, yeah?” he said, steering me toward a small side room tucked away from the rest of the garage. “Got us a nice little space where we won’t be disturbed. Just the two of us.”

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay calm. I didn’t respond, just nodded stiffly as he guided me into the room. It was cramped, with a single table and two chairs, and the sound of the bustling garage was muted by the closed door.

As I sat down across from him, I reached into my pocket, pretending to adjust my phone, and quickly set it to record. I placed it face down on the table next to my water bottle, angling it just enough to capture the interaction.

At first, things seemed relatively normal—or as normal as they could be with Henry. He reviewed some data from the previous race, pointing out areas where the car could be improved for wet conditions. I nodded along, taking notes and asking a few questions when necessary, trying to keep the conversation strictly professional.

But it didn’t take long for the shift to happen. It never did.

“You know,” Henry said, leaning back in his chair with a grin, “I’ve always been impressed by how you handle wet races. It’s like you and the car just… click. It’s kind of sexy, really.”

I froze for a split second before forcing myself to brush it off. “Thanks,” I said flatly, trying to steer the conversation back on track. “So about the tire strategy—”

He cut me off, leaning forward slightly. “You know, I’ve been thinking. We spend so much time working together, maybe we should, I don’t know, get to know each other better. Outside of the garage.”

I stiffened, my hands tightening into fists under the table. “I don’t think that’s appropriate,” I said carefully, my voice steady but firm. “We’re colleagues, Henry. Let’s keep it professional.”

But my words barely registered. He smirked, pushing his chair back and standing up. My heart sank as he walked around the table, closing the distance between us. I leaned back instinctively, my chair scraping slightly against the floor.

“Oh, come on,” he said, his tone low and dripping with fake charm. “Don’t be so uptight. You’re amazing, you know that? Gorgeous, talented, a total package. It’s no wonder the team’s been doing better with you around.”

I stood abruptly, creating as much space between us as the tiny room would allow. “Henry,” I said, my voice sharper now, “I’ve told you before—I don’t like this. Stop.”

He chuckled, stepping closer. “Relax, I’m just trying to pay you a compliment. You should really learn how to take one.”

I felt a cold wave of disgust wash over me, but I forced myself to remain calm. Every part of me wanted to shove him away, but I knew I needed to stay composed—for now. “I’m not interested,” I said firmly. “And this conversation is over.”

Henry’s grin faltered for a moment, his expression shifting to something darker, more frustrated. But before he could say anything else, I grabbed my water bottle and phone, ending the recording as discreetly as I could.

“I’ll see you on the pit wall,” I said, pushing past him and out the door. My heart was pounding, my skin crawling, but I kept my head high as I walked back into the bustling garage.

I was going to make it through this. I had to. And soon, I’d have the proof I needed to make sure Henry would never pull this kind of crap again.

I practically sprinted to my driver’s room after leaving that suffocating meeting, shutting the door behind me with a force that rattled the frame. The sound of the lock clicking into place was the only thing grounding me in that moment, a small barrier between me and the world. My breathing was uneven, and as much as I wanted to hold it in, the tears welled up faster than I could stop them.

I sat down heavily on the small couch, burying my face in my hands. It wasn’t just what had just happened—it was the realization of how deep this went. Henry wasn’t just some creep I could report and be done with. He’d been with the team for years, a trusted member of the garage. I was the outsider, the new driver. No matter how good my results were, no matter how much respect I earned on track, it was my word against his.

And it was going to get worse before it got better.

The weight of that truth pressed down on me like a boulder, and for a moment, I let myself feel it. The frustration, the helplessness, the anger. My hands clenched into fists against my knees as a few more tears slipped free. I hated feeling this way—weak, powerless. But I wasn’t powerless, not entirely. I still had the recordings I’d started collecting, and I was going to keep at it. I’d do whatever it took to make sure Henry couldn’t keep getting away with this.

Sniffling, I wiped my face with the sleeve of my hoodie and forced myself to take a deep breath. One thing at a time. First, I had a job to do—a race to prepare for. And for as long as I was in that car, none of this mattered. It was just me, the machine, and the track.

Standing up, I grabbed my racing suit from where it hung neatly in the corner of the room. I changed quickly, letting the routine of suiting up calm my nerves. Each step—pulling on the fireproof base layer, zipping up the suit, lacing up my boots—was a reminder of why I was here. I wasn’t just some newbie. I was a driver, one who’d clawed her way into this seat.

By the time I pulled on my gloves, I’d forced the tears back and replaced them with a mask of focus. The weight in my chest was still there, but I shoved it to the back of my mind. I couldn’t afford to let it distract me now.

Heading back to the garage, I was greeted by the usual buzz of activity. Mechanics darted around, checking every inch of the car, while engineers monitored data on screens. I nodded to a few of them as I made my way over to my car, setting my helmet and gloves on the workbench beside it.

Landon approached with a tablet in hand, his expression professional but warm. “We’ve got a few adjustments based on the data from last weekend,” he said, walking me through the setup changes. “It should help with stability in the rain, but let us know how it feels during the session.”

“Got it,” I replied, keeping my tone steady as I reviewed the notes with him.

I went through the routine checks with the team, nodding and responding where necessary but staying mostly quiet. The focus I’d forced myself into earlier had settled in, giving me the clarity I needed. This was my space—the car, the garage, the track. And for now, nothing else existed outside of it.

Sliding into the cockpit, I felt the familiar rush of adrenaline as the mechanics strapped me in and adjusted the belts. The engine roared to life, and all the noise of the world faded away, replaced by the hum of power beneath me.

Free Practice 1 had gone smoother than I could have hoped for. The car felt balanced, the adjustments the team made held up well, and my lap times were competitive. By the end of the session, the data showed I was on track for a promising position for sprint qualifying. The rain everyone had been bracing for still hadn’t arrived, but the sky was a heavy gray, the forecast ominously predicting that race day was going to be a drenched battle.

After parking the car and climbing out, I took a moment to savor the positive outcome. Landon handed me a water bottle as he went over the session’s feedback, and I nodded along, already mentally preparing for what was to come. “Looks solid,” he said, giving me an encouraging smile. “If we can hold this pace, you’ll be in a great spot for tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” I replied, taking a long sip of water. I hung around the garage for a bit, leaning against the workbench while the mechanics checked over the car. It was a rare moment of peace—one I knew wouldn’t last long. I caught sight of Henry lingering on the other side of the garage, his eyes scanning for me like a predator seeking its prey. The sight sent a chill down my spine, and I quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the data screen in front of me.

Eventually, it was time to head out for the sprint qualifying session. I slipped back into the car, grateful for the excuse to leave the garage and Henry behind. As I made my way onto the track, the sky remained stubbornly dry, but the tension in the air was palpable. Everyone knew the rain was coming, and it was only a matter of time.

The sprint qualifying session was intense. The track was crowded, every driver pushing their car to its absolute limit. My focus narrowed to the black asphalt ahead, my mind in full race mode. The car felt incredible beneath me, the adjustments giving me the confidence to brake later, turn sharper, and accelerate harder. I fought tooth and nail to put in fast lap times, battling traffic and finding every ounce of grip on the circuit.

By the time the checkered flag waved, I’d done it—P3. Only Oscar and Lando had managed to edge me out. Pulling back into the garage, I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips. It was a hard-earned result, and I was proud of it.

But my relief was short-lived.

The second I climbed out of the car, I spotted Henry approaching, his smug expression already making my stomach churn. I could see the congratulatory words forming on his lips, but I wasn’t about to stick around to hear whatever inappropriate twist he’d add to them.

Grabbing my helmet and gloves, I shot a quick glance at Landon, who gave me a subtle nod of understanding. “Gotta head to media,” I said quickly, not giving Henry a chance to corner me.

With practiced speed, I made my way out of the garage, weaving through the crowd as I headed toward the media zone. My heart raced—not from the qualifying session, but from the near escape. I knew I couldn’t avoid Henry forever, but every second I stayed out of his grasp felt like a small victory.

Once I reached the media area, I took a deep breath, letting the adrenaline from the session replace the lingering discomfort. Cameras flashed, microphones were thrust in my direction, and questions flew at me from all angles. I smiled, answered politely, and kept the focus on the track. For now, the spotlight was on my performance, and I was determined to keep it that way.

P3. A great result to start the sprint weekend. And with any luck, I’d make it count on race day—rain or shine.

The media duties were draining, as always, but I’d kept my composure, deflecting any tricky questions and keeping the focus on the race. By the time it was over, my cheeks ached from smiling and my voice was hoarse from repeating variations of the same answers. Heading back to my driver’s room felt like walking toward a safe haven.

Once inside, I shut the door and leaned against it for a moment, exhaling deeply. The silence was comforting. I peeled off my race suit, hanging it neatly in the small wardrobe before slipping into comfortable joggers and a hoodie. As much as I wanted to crash right there, the promise of my hotel room, a shower, and a good night’s sleep was too tempting. Grabbing my bag, I slung it over my shoulder and exited the room.

I didn’t get far.

Henry was there, lurking just outside my door like a shadow I couldn’t shake. My heart sank at the sight of him. His predatory grin made my skin crawl. “You’re really something, you know that?” he started, stepping into my path.

I froze, trying to keep my expression neutral. “I need to get to the hotel, Henry,” I said flatly, hoping he’d take the hint and move.

Instead, he leaned in closer, his eyes raking over me in a way that made my stomach churn. “Relax,” he drawled, his voice low and insidious. “No need to be so uptight. You’ve had a good day. I’m just here to congratulate you… personally.”

I tried to sidestep him, but he blocked my way, his smirk widening. “You really don’t get it, do you?” he said, his tone turning darker. “All this talent, all this potential... but you still need someone to guide you. Someone who knows what’s best for you.”

“Henry, I’m tired. Please move,” I said, my voice sharper now, though my hands were trembling.

He didn’t budge. Instead, he reached out, his hands clamping around my waist with a grip so tight it made me wince. “You’ll see reason one day,” he whispered, his voice cold and deliberate. “I’ll make sure of that.”

The words sent a chill down my spine, and before I could respond, he finally stepped aside, releasing me abruptly. I stumbled back, my pulse pounding in my ears as I watched him walk away, his confidence unshaken.

For a moment, I just stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to move. Fear and disgust churned in my stomach, and my mind raced with the implications of what had just happened. His words played on a loop in my head, each repetition tightening the knot of anxiety in my chest.

When I finally forced my legs to move, my steps were shaky, my breathing uneven. I hugged my bag closer to me as I made my way through the paddock, feeling smaller and more exposed with each passing second. The bustling atmosphere of the paddock, usually so energizing, now felt overwhelming, the noise pressing in on me from all sides.

As I passed by other teams and drivers, I kept my head down, unwilling to make eye contact. I didn’t want anyone to see the fear etched across my face, the way my hands were trembling, or the tears threatening to spill over. I had to keep it together, at least until I reached the safety of my hotel room.

But no matter how hard I tried to steady myself, Henry’s words lingered in my mind, a sinister reminder of just how far he was willing to go—and how alone I truly felt in this fight.

I was so deep in my own thoughts, replaying Henry’s words over and over, that I didn’t even notice someone approaching me. When a hand landed gently on my shoulder, I stiffened instantly, my entire body locking up as a gasp escaped my lips. Without thinking, I shoved the hand away, spinning around with wide, panicked eyes.

“Hey, hey!” a familiar voice called out, concern lacing every syllable.

I blinked rapidly, my vision clearing to reveal Charles standing there, his brow furrowed deeply. Beside him, Carlos looked equally concerned, his hands raised in a placating gesture.

“Cariño, what’s wrong?” Carlos asked, stepping closer but keeping his movements slow, cautious. “You never react like that. Are you okay?”

My pulse was still racing, and I struggled to breathe evenly as I realized how I must have looked. Panicked. Vulnerable. I couldn’t let them see that. Swallowing hard, I forced a smile onto my face, though it felt like a fragile mask threatening to crack.

“I’m fine,” I lied, trying to sound casual. “Just... startled, that’s all. Long day.”

Charles didn’t look convinced. His sharp eyes scanned my face as if searching for the real reason behind my reaction. “You sure? You seem... different tonight,” he said softly, his tone gentle but probing.

“I’m fine,” I repeated, more firmly this time, though my voice still wavered slightly. “Just tired. Really, don’t worry about it.”

Carlos exchanged a glance with Charles, doubt flickering between them, but neither pushed further. I couldn’t bear to stay there any longer, their concern feeling like a spotlight on everything I was trying to hide. Clutching my bag tighter, I stepped back. “I need to get to the hotel. I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” I said quickly before turning on my heel and walking away, my pace brisk as I left them behind.

In the quiet of the paddock, after she disappeared around the corner, Carlos crossed his arms over his chest and let out a heavy sigh. “That wasn’t normal,” he said, his voice low but firm.

Charles nodded, his expression troubled. “No, it wasn’t. Did you see how scared she looked? Like she thought someone was going to hurt her.”

“Exactly,” Carlos agreed. He ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling to the surface. “And the way she just brushed us off... She never does that. Even if she’s tired, she usually talks to us for a bit.”

Charles frowned, leaning against the wall as he replayed the scene in his mind. “Something’s going on,” he said quietly. “Something she doesn’t want us—or anyone else—to know.”

Carlos looked at him, his jaw tightening. “Do you think it’s... exactly as Max said?” he asked hesitantly. “Or maybe they’re just putting too much pressure on her?”

Charles considered this, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Maybe. But that reaction... It felt like more than just stress. It felt personal.”

Carlos let out another sigh, shaking his head. “Whatever it is, it’s not good. We can’t just ignore this, Charles. She’s our friend.”

“I know,” Charles said, his tone resolute. “But we can’t force her to talk, either. She’s too proud—too stubborn. If we push too hard, she’ll just shut us out completely.”

Carlos nodded reluctantly. “So what do we do? Just... wait until she’s ready to tell us?”

“Not exactly,” Charles replied. His gaze hardened with determination. “For now, we keep an eye on her. Pay attention. And if we see anything—anything—that looks off, we step in. Whether she wants us to or not.”

Carlos’s lips pressed into a thin line, but he nodded. “Agreed. She might not think she needs help, but we’re not going to let her deal with this alone.”

With that, the two drivers fell into a heavy silence, their shared worry for their friend weighing on them as they stood there in the fading light of the paddock.

#x reader #driver!reader #f1 #f1 angst #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula 1 #max verstappen #charles leclerc #oscar piastri #lando norris #franco colapinto #lewis hamilton #carlos sainz #george russell #grill the grid #f1 grid x reader

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electricneonvalkyrie · 2 days ago

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I think it's worth noting that when we sleep facing someone, it often indicates emotional closeness and trust.

I'm not sure if it was intentional to have Manny next to Abby here, but it makes sense when you consider their overall connection.

Abby's decision to stay in the library while Manny has a guest over is intriguing to me.

It feels like such a layered choice.

Abby is highly regarded within the WLF. Interactions in The Stadium and FOB demonstrate this. Although she values deep connections over superficial ones, and maintains a close-knit inner circle, Abby is clearly loved by many.

If she needed a comfortable couch to crash on, or a more secure and private place to stay than the library, she'd absolutely have that option.

Here's why I think she picked the library:

🌙She’s suffering from continual, intense nightmares that border on night terrors.

From personal experience, I believe Abby is likely feeling shame and embarrassment about this. Early in the game, while in the Jackson lodge, Abby asks Owen if she’d been sleep talking. It’s a blink and you’ll miss it moment, but it clearly bothers her.

My suspicion is that she's only comfortable sleeping alone, or near Manny, her trusted friend and roommate, and avoids the proximity of anyone else while she navigates this crippling experience.

🌙It might be emotionally overwhelming for Abby to ask to stay with someone, even a close friend. Despite their willingness to help and spend time with her, she probably doesn't want to be a burden. She likely wants to avoid awkwardness and imposition, and the library offers a safe emotional distance from others.

🌙Abby's exhaustion is palpable; the effort of social interactions probably feels monumental as she struggles to balance her responsibilities with her deteriorating mental health.

🌙For Abby, solitude is a sanctuary, a place where she can escape the noise and replenish her frazzled mental and physical state.

The quiet allows her to recharge. Her agonizing, slow rise from the makeshift bed in the library, accompanied by her pained groans, shows just how far she is pushing herself. How far Isaac is pushing her. It's heartbreaking to see her taken advantage of by her leader, a situation perpetuated by her attempts to escape her own thoughts.

🌙The library might represent a sense of normalcy amidst the violence and chaos.

The books and literature surrounding Abby likely offer significant sensory comfort, perhaps even evoking positive memories of her father and the stability he provided amidst her turbulent childhood.

Because truthfully, being a Firefly was no walk in the park either. I'd be pretty engrossed in any stories written about their time in The Fireflies, as I'm sure there's trauma attached there as well.

🌙I wonder if to some degree, isolating herself from others acts as a self-imposed penance, keeping herself at arm’s length from her friends.

The crushing weight of her Jackson decisions, the relentless, gnawing pursuit of revenge, and her suffocating isolation all point to a subconscious battle, perhaps a silent, self-inflicted form of punishment in a sense.

Which makes me super sad for Abby, because as someone who also lives with PTSD and nightmares/night terrors, I fundamentally understand how painful this can be at times.

I think her friendship with Manny is unique and their dynamic is incredibly well written. When she loses him, it's devastating... although as players, we don't necessarily get to see the depth of it.

I wouldn't be surprised if Abby and Lev spent many nights by the campfire rehashing old memories as she moves through her grief.

#abby the last of us #abby x fem!reader #abby x masc!reader #abby x reader #abby x you #abby tlou #tlou2 #abby anderson #abby anderson tlou2 #tlou #the last of us #the last of us part two

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qoldenskies · 2 days ago

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shower me with lore

cutely takes excuse to talk about wwww!sunset duo as requested ,,,,

its been really fun to work out mikey's personality because one of the most important things to me was to make it really obvious that raph was not only a role model for him but also his ONLY role model, but mikey's relationship with him is also,,, tumultuous, which is not a recent development (although it DOES get worse once everything starts out). raph's first and only priority is mikey's well-being, and most of the decisions he makes are ones he believes he HAS to make to keep him safe, even if he doesn't like it. he thinks he doesn't have a choice, which is something mikey directly goes against.

like generally in the story mikey is the EMBODIMENT of choice. he is the physical manifestation of it. he provides donnie with the opportunity to choose which side he's on, parallels leo who acts only out of fear due to being harmed and restricted, and very ironically the WORST decision that raph makes in the story, which i cant talk about here lol, is one he makes when mikey is literally locked in a cage. mikey's existence changes everything around him, which is why it's important he makes so many decisions independently from raph, and why he COMPLETELY fucks up donnie and leo's relationship with each other and their father lmfao oopsie. mikey is the wind and raph is as solid as stone, endlessly stubborn in his position. he only sees one way through, while mikey ALWAYS thinks there's another way. there's a way out. they can do this better. there's no such thing as a "necessary sacrifice", and he is INTENSE about proving it. its his already existing optimism taken to an extreme, because he DID get that fire and stubbornness from raph, even if his perspective is much different.

usually this is what they butt heads over. raph doesn't think of himself as a pessimist at all, just a realist. but REALISTICALLY he's a pessimist, and a lot of that comes from the fact that he's anxious and he's had to bare that weight all on his own. mikey wants to spread his wings and raph wants to keep him on the ground (while, in comparison, donnie is trying to swim and leo is desperate to make both of them sink lmfao). having less brothers to take care of did NOT fix his problems, they made it worse actually-- in canon leo is actually a pretty important person in his life that evens him out, and donnie is a provider, and raph doesn't have that here, so he has to do those jobs too. splinter's more involved in their lives, but it's still not as much as he should be. really raph took over and once he hit a certain point splinter was like "okay cool", raph controls mikey's life very authoritatively usually because he's hyper-aware of the potential danger of their lifestyle-- and like, i really do not blame him for that. raph is in the wrong, but that doesn't automatically make mikey in the right, and they are in a position where he is right to worry about this.

the culmination of mikey and raph's dynamic is a "growing to realize your parent is human too" kind of arc. raph would probably need to get this kind of arc with splinter, mikey doesn't really have ANY baggage with his dad because raph did everything his dad didn't, and even though he doesn't always like him, he still does see him as helpful and usually infallible. splinter's always the peacekeeper when things get intense, if april's not around (and even then she is USUALLY more team raph than she is team mikey, she will be a bit of a snitch unfortunately,,, she's probably closer to mikey though, they're pretty good friends here. maybe i'll parallel their dynamic with leo and casey's? that'd be silly EDIT: I GOT THE PERFECT IDEA OF HOW IM GOING TO DO THIS BUT I CANT TALK ABOUT IT HERE FUCKKKK)

#ask #where we went wrong #rottmnt #raph opposes choice in the way that he stands stubborn in one position. unshakeable #while leo opposes choice in the way that he will mold himself to what seems like the safest option for him and ESPECIALLY for donnie

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minkdelovely · 13 hours ago

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What is there to say that I haven’t said before…

This has been such a long-awaited chapter — the foundation of this moment laid brick-by-brick from the beginning. So many times have I wondered how this would play out. And while I never doubted you would deliver, I never expected how hard it would hit me.

Hazel, this entire chapter truly showcases your talent and commitment to storytelling. There’s tension, humor, fun, vulnerability, and sentiment. Painfully wonderful descriptions and characters filled with life. The love and care that you’ve poured into this is so palpable, and I hope you’ve given yourself many pats on the back for this accomplishment.

I know we’re nearing the end of this series, but this chapter was the perfect reminder for me to soak in every word. I’ll only be able to read this the first time once, and you never fail to provide me (and all of us) so much to luxuriate in.

As it happens, I read this before bed, and I know exactly what song I’ll be changing my morning alarm to ♥️

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

“He knows.” Alastor’s eyes were closed and his palms facing towards heaven, hopefully in prayer to spare his life as he felt sure you’d strangle him.

“Excuse me?” There was a ringing in your ears, vision darkening a little at the edges. You knew exactly who he meant and what they knew, but you needed a second longer to live in your life before.

OH GODDD IT REALLY WON’T BE THE SAME AFTER THIS

“Don’t fret, my love. He will never find a body, never a drop of blood in my home or car.” A clap of his hands, a sparkle in his eyes, “Let's go dancing!”

BABE I ADORE YOU BUT THIS IS NOT THE TIME 🙈😭 future me narrator voice: little did she know it was the perfect time

He fought back a self confident chuckle, knowing the look you’d give him would be sharp enough to cut. “This has been my singular focus for years. I’ve made no mistakes. He has two options left to him. Go crazy hunting down something that doesn’t exist ooor,” he sang the word, “he tells his superiors he thinks a popular radio host and public figure is a mass killer, in which case—,” a wicked grin curled up his face.

your choice 💅🏻 but in all seriousness his confidence makes me so fucking nervous 😩

“They’ll put you on desk duty, if not send you away on medical leave. You sound… unhinged, Kenny.” Across the lake, in a diner too lit for his migraine, Brady stared at the table between him and Freeman. “You gotta let it go. You went on his property and insulted his mother and think his reaction is proof he’s a murderer? No, no sir. You need to go home and take a shower. Maybe ask for a couple days and go visit the in-laws. Get out of the city for a bit. Come back fresh faced and bushy tailed, yeah?”

Thanks for being so level-headed about all of this Edward 😮‍💨😂

You were a scared sailor tied to the mast in a storm. You’d survive together or go down as one piece as long as his hands were wrapped around you. The bonds of love keeping you safe.

I’m not thinking of Titanic, but I’m also not NOT thinking of Titanic. Beautiful imagery my love 🥹

“That was before. Now there’s no reason to hide! I want to twirl you around a room and steal everyone’s attention. I want people flocking to your theater to see Alastor’s girl in her element.”

ALASTOR’S GIRL!!! ;A;

“You’re a marvelous performer. Why would I not want that?” His smile was mega-watt in the darkening kitchen. “Another bragging point for myself, really.”

DON’T MAKE ME GET A RESTRAINING ORDER — I 👏🏻 TOLD 👏🏻 YOU 👏🏻 TO 👏🏻 STOP!! 👏🏻

Brady knowing meant… freedom. You could say Alastor’s name as much as you wanted, to whomever you wanted. You could make a scene together.

oh my goddddd no more hiding! I never thought about this side of the fence 😭♥️

Freeman laughed, a little too loudly, and offered to the waitress and other customers apologetic little bows of his head in their directions. “Fine, maybe. But who fucking cares? Did he kill a kid? Is he raping people? Bustin’ up mom and pop shops for money?” He wasn’t at the station, he wasn't on duty; he could be honest. What harm was there in that?

am I just destined to love fictional men named Edward???

Freeman turned back to see Brady walking off into the rising darkness of the night, a bright ember orange sun setting on his shoulders. A sure sign of fall dying to winter’s early evenings. “No, it’s alright. Sorry.” He closed the door and returned to his booth, wondering what exactly he was witnessing. The fall of a good man? The end of a career? Or something worse?

oohhh him silhouetted against the sun is just 🤌🏻❤️‍🔥 and as much as I rag on Kenneth, he’s my biggest blank spot… WHAT ARE YOU UP TO MY GUY??

It felt like your first date all over again. That same nervous energy hummed between your skin and your bones. The bag had been abandoned beneath the kitchen table for a hasty change of outfits, Alastor practically skipping to the car.

THEY’RE SO GIDDY AND SO AM I 😭

When he explained the interaction to you in more detail (though you were admittedly distracted by him undressing) you felt a small easing of worry roll over you again.

BIG FUCKING SAMEEE

You could imagine his face, Detective Brady’s, asking you to confirm what he knew was true. And how it’d fall when you denied him.

I’d say sorry Kenneth but 🤡

But even now, he knew Brady had that fear in his heart. And it made Alastor ecstatic.

THAT’S MY BABY 🤭♥️

“Mimzy, the often spoken of but never seen!” His hand gestured to you like a magician to a rabbit.

ohhhh he would… I can see his proud smile now 😭

Slipping into the seat beside him, you let the two bicker as you focused on the oddness of sitting there with him. Going out was rare, a night in was easier for you both for obvious reasons. The last time you did so you were at his side for less than an hour before he was whisked away to his mistress (murder).

OMGGGG HIS SANCHA IS MISS MURDER

“To Fear.” A smirk so wicked you thought you saw his shadow dance across the far wall. He raised it higher than hers.

OOF!!! Lovely and delicious touch here

“This is the stuff that makes people go blind.” Alastor inspected the shot glass closely. She just shrugged. “Whiskey next. Actual whiskey. As in, it was made to be whiskey and people waited for it to become whiskey.” She rolled her eyes again and leaned down beneath the bar.

I love our little bitch 🥹

A drop fell on your cheek and reminded you of your question from before, “Hey Mimzy, are we… under the water table? How'd you get a permit for a basement.”

this is truly one of the most terrifying feelings in the world 🙈

“We’re built on a hill, this is tech-na-cully the ground floor! Clever, huh?” Mimzy batted her lashes and waited for the praise. Her sweet tone dropped to her natural tenor, “Tell me I’m clever.” She hissed.

I actually think she’s quite capable of doing some pretty wild shit

Alastor shrugged, unbothered by the raging bar owner as he took a second large sip. She whipped the rag at the counter with a snap, “I’m the golden dish!! I’m fancy and beautiful!!” A wet pop of the small towel with every word.

he loves pissing her off and I’m surprised she only made the countertop her victim 😂

Maybe it really would be okay. You’d trusted him so thoroughly so far and Alastor never failed to put you first. If he wasn’t worried, and he truly wasn’t, then maybe you could settle into a comfortable (if still trepidatious) relaxation. When you looked up at Alastor, body pressed into body, you felt small. But again, not in the diminutive sense like some men happily made women. Small in the sense that he could hold you so securely with such ease.

THE SECURITY!! I feel this so hard — it’s beautiful 😩♥️

Your focus shifted to where your hands touched him. Skin on skin in one hand, your fingers just below his collar on his upper back on the other hand. The fabric was cool to the touch. But as your fingers lingered the heat of his body began to bloom through the weave. A blossoming of your own, cheeks tingling pinker. Touch for touch’s sake. No dance to give an illusion of need. You could do more with each other, and that lack of barrier between you two made even a hand in public seem like polite restraint. You knew his appetites now well enough to know what he needed; the excited intimacy of witnessing his worst compulsions and the ease with which touch could replace difficult to articulate words for him. His need to please, to be needed without seeming needy, also spurred him on. But less and less did you see that motivation pushing hungry touches past heavy petting.

FEELING REALLY NORMAL ABOUT THIS WHOLE PARAGRAPH

A little jolt of excitement shook up his arm, imperceivable to your hand.

I’M TRYING NOT TO RIP MY HAIR OUT???

He was suddenly embarrassed to remember he dragged you into a bathroom once, but then he remembered how you inspired his hunger and his skin warmed from his neck down. He could taste you in a crowded place with only a piece of wood between you both and a crowd, but dancing so closely with the eyes of arguably his closest friend on him was making him uncharacteristically bashful.

FUUUUUUCKKKK!!! 🥲♥️

A first date. A first dance. He worried about how heavy his hand was on your back, how sweaty his palm was pressed against yours. There was a worry he could feel at the bottom of his spine, a little itchy thread of wool wrapped around his lower vertebrae. Would you become bored now?

BORED?? BABE YOU’RE KIDDING ME!! 😭

Alastor wondered if songs had always been so short. He gestured to the bar again, where his drink was still waiting. He needed a little more lubrication, just enough to drown the butterflies.

I feel all choked up!! 🥲

“… it’s nice you let everyone in here, Mimzy.” You said it softly, not necessarily to her just a sentiment you felt the need to express.

Her eyes shot up and followed the direction you were looking, “Their money's green ain’t it?” She half assed a glass cleaning before pouring the ‘rum’, “Only color I care about.”

OHHH MIMZY 😂🙏🏻♥️ ever the opportunist

His mind wandered to Brady again, with much annoyance. The way he had smiled when he first appeared on his property. It was a smile that darkened the edges of Alastor’s vision, until all he could see was shining teeth.

…he’s gonna kill Kenneth 😬

Mimzy was stumped, a little huh escaping her perfectly colored lips. That was less plain to her. Alastor gave her a pat on the hand and offered you another dance.

He’s got a soft spot for a dumb bitch, and that fills me with unspeakable joy

Looking over your shoulder you saw the doors shut as the men began tying the handles together with their ties. It was dark now with the doors shut, you couldn’t see where your man was in the mix. You were being swept up in the half a dozen or so women rushing to something on the wall.

YOUR MAN!!! 😭

You ran toward the back side of the building, where the hill sloped down. The bar is going to flood with the first hurricane, you thought as you felt the slick pavement beneath your shoes. The river was so close.

He turned back with his free arm cocked but realized it was you. “I almost decked you!” A kiss instead of a fist, his smile not leaving even through the peck. “Come on, to the river.”

HE’S SO THRILLED RIGHT NOW I CAN SEE THAT STUNNING FACE 😩❤️‍🔥

“No ligh-,” the word ended in a small yelp as the slick grass and fallen leaves won out, his shoe losing its grip and him slipping down the hillside on his ass. You were shortly behind. The moisture immediately soaked through and you felt your ass and thighs become cool with the wetness.

a sensory nightmare for me, but this is so silly and adorable I wouldn’t even care 🥹♥️

Your fingers pulled up the end of his coat, showing him a tear. A rock must have snagged it as he slid down the bank, you whispered. You presented it like you’d found a dead bird on the porch.

YES BECAUSE EVERYTHING ABOUT HIM IS PRECIOUS LIKE A JEWEL

In that silence between you was something else you didn’t recognize until it fully materialized; safety. It’d visited you in fleeting moments through life, but in that moment it’d come to settle like a rock. Unlike the one who tore his precious coat, any sharpness was hand chiseled by Alastor, surely.

YES!! THIS IS WHAT I’M SAYING! ;A;

Alastor flourished in the tension before a kiss. An anticipation mirrored in the moments before the killing blow. The will he or won’t he in the other person's eyes. Daisies had fields and water lillies had still waters and Alastor had prescience. You often robbed him of his arena with your unpredictable nature, but that was, as people said, the zest of life.

I’M… SHAKING 😮‍💨

Just beside your ear, close enough that his breath made you shiver. Alastor deeply enjoyed the ways he could make people’s bodies respond to him.

AND SCREAMING!!!

“You again? Geez…you’re becoming a nuisance. Get a room, sir.” The cop shouted down the incline. “And have a little more self respect, miss.”

AHAHAHAHAHA OH MY GOD!!! THIS COP IS SO OVER HIM 😂🙈 what extremely different circumstances though 🙈

“I should apologize for always magically summoning the police.” He beamed, all charm. “How should I show you? A good cuddle?” His nose knocked softly against yours as he teased another kiss. You could tell by his smile you’d be swept away if you let him continue.

What kind of willpower is this and where do I find some?

Alastor was taken aback. A new sight. A new thing to dream about. You in the glow of the dim kitchen light, it bouncing off the back of your silhouette as you looked at him like a shark was in your tub; unnecessarily scared.

I’M NOT FUCKING READY FOR THIS

“Red Tulips. Daisies. Wild roses.” you pointed them out just how the shop attendant had for you, “And cornflower.”

Alastor smiled over them and then back to you.

“For you.” You lifted them just a tad higher.

“Oh!” He cleared his throat, wiping his hands on his pants before gingerly taking them from you. “That happy I didn’t kill him?” Alastor joked, knowing you had to have gotten them before you learned of the newest developments.

MY THROAT IS SO TIGHT!! THE FLOWERS THE TENSION THE DEFLECTION ;A;

Looking up, there he was. As brilliant as in the sun, dim light casting sharp shadows across his face as he brought the bouquet up to his nose. The light passed over his glasses as he did so, and when his eyes flitted back up they looked over the rims and down to you. Your heart skipped a beat as a new rhythm took it by surprise.

I CAN’T EVEN PUT INTO WORDS…

Fuck.

YEAH (and I’ll never hear one of my favorite songs of all time the same way again)

“And what's the occasion? I’m the one who owes you flowers.”

His chest rumbled and you inhaled the scent of him. What if you said it and you never got to get this close again?

MY EYES ARE STINGING

What was the better world to live in…The one where he was yours, or the one where he knew he was loved?

WELLING UP. FUCK!!

Like a wolf showing its neck you filled the silence with vulnerability, “You know I love you, right?” You couldn’t muster the courage to look at him. The entire world was spinning but the swaying stopped. “It bears repeating, so, listen up. I’ll always meet you where you are. Don’t go feeling around in the dark for me. I’ll find you, I’ll wait around the nearest corner or in the car or wherever. Because I love you. Terribly. Against my will.” You swallowed hard but your mouth was dry, “Now and forever.” What a terribly uncomfortable thing to say, what a horridly sensitive wound to inflict on yourself. A fresh expanse of exposed nerves and muscles.

I CAN’T BELIEVE I AM READING THIS WITH MY OWN EYES!!! I CAN’T BELIEVE IT’S HERE!!!

A practiced author would call it a whirlwind romance, but that didn’t capture the violence that tangled you two together. A maelstrom love.

AND IT’S PERFECTION

Alastor was too scared to speak, too overwhelmed to reply. You’d said it first, atleast, you’d said it thinking you had. A weakness came over his muscles and for a flash he thought he'd go weak in the knees. But what you said stirred a fire in his chest and he didn’t know what to do with it. Too many words crowded in his guts and choked at the stop gap that was his own throat. Words were, as they rarely were for him, useless. So his hands slipped down your body, then back up, and he found your cheeks despite his eyes still hiding in the shadow of his lashes. He leaned down to meet your lips and pressed into them. Chaste, as if neither of you had ever kissed anyone before. He hoped at that moment he’d never have to kiss anyone again.

I genuinely don’t how fucking coherent I’ll be through the remainder of this…

“Do you want to keep going?” You asked, feeling his hips move to grind up into you. He nodded, his smile small and tight. His lips were barely visible. “You know you don’t have to, right? You don’t owe me anything. My love isn’t….there are no strings attached.” He nodded again. His eyes were shining, the light of the kitchen giving them a comforting and golden band. Were they wet or just bright? “Do you want to …talk?”

His smile widened, and he shook his head no.

I ACTUALLY DON’T FUCKING KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MYSELF!!!

The expression on his face was enough for you. His eyes soft and half lidded, pupils blown. You never knew what he saw when he looked at you like that, but you knew you wanted to be whoever it was.

HAZEL!!!!!!!!!!

He was going to find out now, for the first time, if he could feel love. Could he translate it from his mouth through your skin, words unspoken still? The gasp you made when he licked up your neck made him confident he was saying something. He didn’t want to get off in that moment, nothing about you was screaming sex, but there was no earthly method he could express the way your confession made him feel. He needed you close. He needed you closer than anyone had ever been, and your words had already pulled him skin deep.

this is gonna haunt me for the rest of my life

People had said they loved him before, but it was just words. It was the next thing to say before I do and it's a boy! They had loved well pressed clothes and a shiny smile, quick fingers over keys and a pretty voice. Such love was nothing short of tissue paper wrapped around a gift he didn't want; a promise of a boring and hidden life.

he was never meant for such shallow affections!! HE DESERVES TO BE SEEN AND CHERISHED

His chin rested on the taut muscle that connected neck and shoulder, breaths even and hot slipping down between the skin of your back and dress as the clothing loosened under his grip.

everything leading up to this has been exquisite but something about THIS is sending me to another dimension

Your body pressed tightly against his, you found the space to lift up and drop. Reluctantly, Alastor loosened his grip to allow you more freedom of movement. Just enough you could get more height and not an inch more.

his need to HOLD is driving me fucking craaaazzyyy 😩♥️

The burn in your thighs and the sting of your knees digging into the old wood patio quickly fought for your focus. But then your riding produced rewards, Alastor’s breath coming out ragged and weak. His own little gasps each time you took him back in fully escaped to your pleasure. You were warm and clinging, inside and out, and Alastor found the base of his skull beginning to feel fuzzy. All that lightning was now in his lap and leaving his mind to go slack as if in a tepid bath. He liked this part, where things could go quiet internally except for the most basic of senses: touch. You were all around him, and that was satisfying him so completely he worried he’d run out of things to seek out in life. A small worry that came and went as quickly as your hips began to move. Fast and even.

THIS! THIS IS ROMANCE AND POETRY

Such a slow kiss for the occasion, passion could be languid when you had the time for it.

MY EYES ARE TEARING UP AGAIN

Be gentle with me.

this is what I would ask of you Hazel, if I had any true regard for my emotional well-being (but I won’t ♥️)

A Doe in Fall (Part 15)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught Part 12 - Eddie Part 13 - The Release Part 14 - Someone like her smut💦 Part 15 - Silence smut💦📍

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Where we left off: While you set out to find the perfect accessories for your love confession, Brady stopped by Alastor’s home. Alastor lost his temper and scared Brady off the property after giving a tour of the greenhouse. Brady knows just who Alastor is now.

Helpful definitions this part

Box - Bar ✦ Cheese it - Run away ✦ To be pinched - to be arrested ✦ Hooch - Alcohol ✦ Nightcap - A drink before bed, often times alcohol and often times an excuse to be alone together privately

Part 15 Silence

Alastor decides secrets shouldn’t exist between you after his last fuck up and gets straight to the news, which puts a slight kink in your plans for the evening. Namely, professing your love for your suave killer boyfriend. Luckily he has some ideas! Well, one.

「Warnings/Promises: Human!Alastor x Fem!Reader, mention of sexual assault in the context of stating things not happening, sexy sex time, confessions, coppers, Mimzy’s unlabeled alcohol, the water table, love, partial writing credit to Kellin Quinn, the meaning of flowers, Mimz is short for Mimzy, if you see MINDY or MINZY no you didn’t」

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MDNI 💖 🥃 💐

“He knows.” Alastor’s eyes were closed and his palms facing towards heaven, hopefully in prayer to spare his life as he felt sure you’d strangle him.

Alastor had hummed the entire way home from your errands, fingers dancing along the steering wheel. You managed to hide the contents of your bag behind your back as he held the front door open for you, sliding it under the kitchen table when Alastor asked you to take a seat because he had news.

“She knows.” Brady hissed it into the receiver of the first pay phone he found upon leaving Alastor’s home.. His car was parked at a hasty angle just across from a small restaurant. “He killed Tommy.”

He heard Freeman exhale before shuffling off somewhere, “Who?”

“Alastor!” He said it louder than he had meant too, but the confused question his partner sighed slowly in reply seemed to be nothing short of wasting time.

“Alastor.” You breathed it out, you felt your fingertips go cold. Blood flowed to your core, protecting vital organs from the danger your brain knew was nearby.

“Don’t fret, my love. He will never find a body, never a drop of blood in my home or car.” A clap of his hands, a sparkle in his eyes, “Let's go dancing!”

You shot up, the ludicrous suggestion physically pulling you out of the chair. The wooden legs squeaked as they rubbed against the flooring. This was it, your heart was going to beat so fast and so hard it just gave up the effort. A gulp of air before you felt the room spin again.

Every muscle in your body went slack just as quickly as they’d roared with fearful vigor barely a second before, causing you to lean onto the table with both hands for support. “This is no time for dancing, Alastor!” A wave of nausea made your head hang heavy between your shoulders. Heaviness was a good word for your entire existence at the moment..

Brady growled, hands running down his face in barely contained frustration, “He threatened my life and then said that he killed Tommy, Ed.”

“What exactly did he say?”

“I asked if it was a threat, he denied it, and I said he killed Tommy, and he said on second thought, yes.”

“He was more likely agreeing that it was a threat. Which is his right, you were trespassing, Ken! With a gun on your hip, bud.”

Brady’s stare was absent of any indication he was there.

“Just— go home, buddy.”

“Let’s go out!” Alastor’s hands slipped around your waist and held you assuredly against him. You were a scared sailor tied to the mast in a storm. You’d survive together or go down as one piece as long as his hands were wrapped around you. The bonds of love keeping you safe.

Love, your eyes looked down to the table beside you, the bag of surprises underneath.

“I thought we were playing it quiet.” Your own voice was miles away. Like a death, you needed time to grasp how changed your world was now. A scrap of your mind tried to remember the story of pandora.

A sentiment so sweet it sliced through your panic with a stark efficiency. The deep seated desire to be more than just wanted, but to be flaunted, eclipsed your very real fear of Brady’s next moves.

“You want people to know you’re with a dancer?”

Brady who? More important things had come up now.

Alastor’s smile dropped, thumb wiping a lonely tear from your cheek before you could realize it was there. Backing up from his firm hold, your hands shot to your face. Confused, wiping away the tears forming, you let out a self conscious chuckle. Rarely did you cry let alone around others, yet since Alastor’s arrival it seemed you didn't recognize yourself anymore.

“You’re a marvelous performer. Why would I not want that?” His smile was mega-watt in the darkening kitchen. “Another bragging point for myself, really.”

Your chin quivered, a thawed anger boiling in your chest. How many times had other women told you how worthless you were for your profession? How many men promised to keep you their dirty little secret, well kept and taken care of? Brady knowing meant… freedom. You could say Alastor’s name as much as you wanted, to whomever you wanted. You could make a scene together.

“Fuck it, let’s go out.”

“But I’m right.” Brady’s eyes finally met Freeman’s.

In the depths of his obsession, Brady took the rhetorical question as a genuine one. “Not that we know of! Where there’s smoke there's fire!”

“For fucks sake. Kenny. Enough. The only thing catching fire here is your reputation. There’s no evidence this man’s done a damn thing, even less than none that he’s murdered multiple people. You’re unwell, pal. You need to back up before you—,” his hand came to rest on his partners across the bright white table. “You’re gonna ruin your life like this.”

“What were your wise words again? Right,” Brady set his money down and slid from the booth, “Who fucking cares.”

“Kenny!” Decorum damned, Freeman shot up and followed Brady, “Don’t be like that. Please.” Heads turned as their peaceful afternoon meals were interrupted by the raised voices.

“Excuse me! Are you going to finish paying?” A line cook hollered, “Or do we need to call the cops?”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

As you had been buttoning your dress you did have a wild, ‘what the fuck are we doing?’ pass over your head.

It felt like a celebration of …. Being found out?

All the relief of finally admitting a lie without any of the fall out.

And as the car jostled over the bridge into downtown New Orleans Alastor was grinning brightly. It absolutely was a celebration. He’d finally made a move toward Brady, he’d left his place in the shadows and it was liberating. No more hiding. The scariest part of his hobby had been confronted and nothing would come of it.

Nothing could come of it. Brady had made too many missteps. It was all over the body language of his partner as he shifted in Alastor’s office chair. You’d been released with a promise of an apology, a clear indicator no one was sympathetic to Brady’s witch-hunt. Alastor was reckless, and impulsive, and sometimes dismissed consequences, but he wasn't stupid. He hadn’t done or said anything conclusively to Brady. The detective had unlocked the door all on his own and Alastor merely held it open as the man stumbled into an unbelievable situation.

When he explained the interaction to you in more detail (though you were admittedly distracted by him undressing) you felt a small easing of worry roll over you again. He hadn’t found any proof to bring back to the station. It was all conjecture. It was words, and without someone to corroborate, they were as good as a fairy tale. The only person who could back up what had happened was you and you’d take Alastor’s secret to your grave. A little smirk crept up your cheek and you pursed your lips to pull it back. You could imagine his face, Detective Brady’s, asking you to confirm what he knew was true. And how it’d fall when you denied him.

A chill, the wind from the river was cold and unimpeded by the safety of the trees. But soon you were sheltered by buildings and basking in the glow of the lights.

Your relationship had quickly gone from carefree and curious to a bond held together by a dangerous secret. There was a still a secret to be kept but Alastor’s lungs seemed to take in more air now that the little worm that was the detective was ejected. He hummed freely, fingers again dancing across the broad steering wheel as if across a piano’s keys. The deliciousness of the moment was still stirring in his guts and tingling down his spine. The flash of fear. The panic. His favorite part, arguably. Normally it’s so short lived.

But even now, he knew Brady had that fear in his heart. And it made Alastor ecstatic.

Reentering the far-too-fancy restaurant was mortifying, but the host looked at you with a pleasant surprise that let you know you did much better this time around. No smeared makeup, no mussed hair. You got to follow him through the dining room and into the secret door that led down the stairs to Mimzy’s speakeasy.

Funny, the wealthy had well lit hotel bars with no false front and you all had secret basement floors.

Which made you pause, ignoring Mimzy’s greeting entirely. A basement in Louisiana? That didn’t make a lick of sense. The river was just a block over, how was this entire place not flooded. You couldn’t linger on it too long though, Alastor pulling you forward by the hand and presenting you to Mimzy.

“Mimzy, the often spoken of but never seen!” His hand gestured to you like a magician to a rabbit.

“We met already when she came to gather you off the floor.” She didn’t offer her hand, instead keeping one on her hip and one on a drink. Alastor grumbled, he hadn’t wanted to remember that night.

“Pleased tah meet ya!”

You noted how her accent only got thicker when she tried to enunciate.

“Pleasures all mine.” Your own hands fidgeted with your dress. “It’s nice to see Alastor actually has friends.” Alastor protested, you’d met his friends before. But when you asked him to recall anything of depth about them he rolled his eyes. Mimzy laughed too loudly at the comment.

“I’m not sure he’s got many of those. He’s a little hard to love. I think he’d let me drown if his shoes would get ruined.”

“I didn’t invite her here to create a clique of bullies. We came here to drink and dance. In that order, preferably.” Alastor slid onto a stool, “And leather will absolutely get ruined if submerged Mimzy, have some sense.”

“Three shots sweetheart. We’re celebrating! I took your advice.” Alastor patted the bar when he said it and you tuned back in. What advice?

“And a water.” You added at the risk of sounding like a square.

“Of course you did!” A withering snicker that melted into an embarrassed giggle from Mimzy, “what did I advise, exactly?”

“The ex.” His hand reached over to gripped yours on the bar, “Put the fear of God into him.”

Eyes on your hands, you wondered what exactly he’d said about your ‘ex’ to Mimzy. But you had to trust him. A little nod of your head before you met Mimzy’s smiling eyes. She whirled around and set up the glasses.

As she poured she overflowed the tiny flutes and spilled with every move. Once they were all too full, she let the nondescript bottle come down with a thud.

Mimzy tapped one shot glass on the bar and raised it, “To God!” She beamed.

“To Fear.” A smirk so wicked you thought you saw his shadow dance across the far wall. He raised it higher than hers.

You quickly raised your glass too, toasting to the real reason for your prolonged freedom, “To Alastor.” His sharp eyes came to wide eye you and softened, smile shortening before pushing his glass forward. A clink and you downed it in time.

“What,” Alastor sputtered, tossing his head back to keep from wretching, “the fuck is that?!”

“How the shit would I know. He rolls it down here and I drink it.” Mimzy shuddered but didn’t seem too affected.

You had both hands gripping your glass of water, gulping it down to wash away the distinct taste of ethanol. “I don’t think that’s safe for human consumption.”

A drop fell on your cheek and reminded you of your question from before, “Hey Mimzy, are we… under the water table? How'd you get a permit for a basement.” Your head turned up to the ceiling, painted black to hide the pipes and beams exposed there. You couldn’t be sure what was above you now, the kitchen? A dining room?

“Permit, ha!” She croaked, “This isn’t on the fucking paperwork. This room doesn’t exist to the city of New Orleans.” She pointed along the far right wall, “We’re built on a hill, this is tech-na-cully the ground floor! Clever, huh?” Mimzy batted her lashes and waited for the praise. Her sweet tone dropped to her natural tenor, “Tell me I’m clever.” She hissed.

“As ever! Since we’re asking questions, I’ve always wondered why it's called CD?” Alastor’s hand left yours to bring the newly poured whiskey to his nose. His eyebrows rose in a surprised approval.

Mimzy’s eyes flashed over with anger before she hurriedly looked around for something to fuss the emotion out with. She settled on a dish rag she twisted and wrung tightly, “You nit, it’s a G and a D. It’s called the Golden Dish.” You heard some threads snap. “You’ve been coming here for ages and thought it was a C and D??”

An enlightened, “aah” from Alastor before he turned his head to you, “Ready for that dance?” He told the whiskey he’d be back and spun around to pull you to the center of the small bar.

The music had to stay low to avoid alerting the patrons upstairs with their virgin drinks, but a lively tune had Alastor guiding you through a foxtrot, Alabama Slide. The piano was all they could allow but it was good enough for the various couples taking to the open space.

Your right hand in his left, his hand on your back and yours on his shoulder, you moved. Alastor walked forward and you walked back, a turn and you switched your direction. The embrace was arguably everyone’s favorite part of the foxtrot. You had to be close, and you had a good excuse for it. As you turned the edge of your dress slid across your shins just below your knees, free and loose. The bare shoulders were a little cold for the changing weather but it made you feel unrestrained. Your coat was nearby if you felt a draft in the buried first floor Mimzy called a bar.

A little jolt of excitement shook up his arm, imperceivable to your hand.

The difference a bathroom door makes to how much touch felt like scandal was astonishing. The things he felt compelled to do to you in dance halls was thrilling, and yet now, he felt bare under the dim glow of the illicit bar. You felt different than before. He was suddenly embarrassed to remember he dragged you into a bathroom once, but then he remembered how you inspired his hunger and his skin warmed from his neck down. He could taste you in a crowded place with only a piece of wood between you both and a crowd, but dancing so closely with the eyes of arguably his closest friend on him was making him uncharacteristically bashful.

He opened his mouth to speak but played it off, instead licking his lips and turning you both again as the modest crowd spun around.

Since he cried so openly into your lap, this was your first time in public with him. Was that why you felt different? He tried to find a word for it but failed. He’d touched you many times, his smirk couldn’t stop itself but he managed to keep it pulled to the left, but now it felt like the first time.

The excitement would be gone with Brady, he feared. Things could be normal, and then you’d see once the blood was washed away and the trunk was empty he was just a man. What good was a man to you?

He shifted and let you be the one to walk forward while he walked backwards blindly. He needed to step with confidence in your direction to keep the dance graceful and effortless.

When he looked down at you, you were watching closely behind him. You were focused. And then your eyes flitted back to his and your brow unfurrowed and he watched the shoddy overhead lights sparkle in your stare. The moon could only wish to ever reflect light with such a brilliant clarity.

He didn’t notice the music had stopped, the piano player flipping pages to find the next tune. You had to tap the shoulder to get his attention back to the room.

Alastor wondered if songs had always been so short. He gestured to the bar again, where his drink was still waiting. He needed a little more lubrication, just enough to drown the butterflies.

You asked Mimzy if she had rum, and she confirmed she had brown liquor. That wasn’t what you asked, but you just nodded. As you scanned the room, you noticed some people entering from a double door past the dance floor and the piano. A mixed race couple lowered their head as they came down the wide stairs that were maybe half as tall as the ones you came down before. Their hands tightly laced, they joined a group already settled at a table.

“… it’s nice you let everyone in here, Mimzy.” You said it softly, not necessarily to her just a sentiment you felt the need to express.

Her eyes shot up and followed the direction you were looking, “Their money's green ain’t it?” She half assed a glass cleaning before pouring the ‘rum’, “Only color I care about.”

You hummed before tilting your head to the double doors, “What's back there?”

“That leads to the backdoor. When I can’t bring people in through the front doors or they’re too drunk,” she paused to glare at Alastor, “to walk through the dining hall.”

Alastor’s posture was perfect as he sipped the drink. He’d only been pushed out through the secret door once before which seemed a reasonable number given Mimzy’s heavy handed pours.

“Have you ever met someone whose smile just feels sinister. Nothing behind it, just teeth.” He mused.

“That’s how most people smile.”

“Mimz, that’s not what I mean—-“, Alastor’s hand came to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Ugh I hate you flowery men with your secret meanings. My beau just says what he means and we’re peachy!”

“Simple.” Alastor exhaled through his nose.

“Exactly!” Mimzy didn't notice the insult.

It was admittedly what he liked about her. He could unwind and relax without worrying too much, as she never dug deeper than the topsoil.

“Let me speak more plainly, when a wolf bears its teeth do you call it a smile?” Alastor asked the ether.

Mimzy was stumped, a little huh escaping her perfectly colored lips. That was less plain to her. Alastor gave her a pat on the hand and offered you another dance.

A cycle of hooch and dance, until you were happy to sway with the room against Alastor’s chest. The butterflies were still, and he could let his head rest atop of yours. How many more nights could he have like that?

You let your vision wander around the room. The bar was quite nice for a speakeasy. The floor was a pretty vinyl. The tables were few but looked like nice sturdy dark wood.

The walls had posters of singers and ads for cigarettes very lowly lit by small flower shaped sconces.

A loud bang above your heads stopped you, nearly everyone looking up at the ceiling. Someone had to hit the piano man on the back to silence him.

Another bang and a series of scuffles before a loud knock came to the hidden door most of you had taken down to the bar.

“Cheese it or get pinched!” Mimzy crawled over the bar and led the charge for the double doors. You and Alastor had barely turned your bodies before the door above the stairs flew open and the light flooded down to the small room.

You felt hands on your back pushing you through the doors before Mimzy was grabbing you by the arm and dragging you to the right. Your coat was in your hands as someone passed them around in the dark and you put it on out of instinct. Well, you were somewhat sure it was your coat.

“Alastor!” You turned back but Mimzy grabbed your wrist and tugged. “We can’t leave him!” Her hand gripped your shoulder and head and pushed you down to make you crouch. A faint light came in before leaving again. Then again. There was some kind of door a few feet up the wall.

“Leaving the men behind is our right!” She said.

“The only perk.” A stranger giggled. Their mood was mischievous despite the sounds of cops hitting against the double doors.

“Not the only perk.” Someone laughed before a hand in the dark found your shoulder and pushed you down a little further. “Out the little hole ya go.”

You stumbled, shoe catching up the square cut out lip. Another woman helped you keep upright until you were free. You watched the others all emerge from the same place you had — what looked like the exit of a trash shoot. But it was lower than usual, and cleaner. And also obviously not a trash chute once you’d seen it from the inside. Looking around, you realized you were in an alley that ran along the right side of the restaurant. You could hear the water and the bugs that always lingered there coming from behind you. There was a slope to the ground beneath your feet that rose up to meet the road you met Alastor on before.

“Scatter, you idiot!”

“How do we find the men later?”

“They find us, at home or back here next week.”

Finding you wasn’t really going to work unless you met at the car. You just pressed your back flush to the wall of the neighboring building and waited. You couldn’t stand the idea of just hoping he made it out. Sure enough, some men flew past and you managed to snag the arm of yours. It was easy to see which one was Alastor in the rush, his height paired with his complexion made him stand out.

He turned back with his free arm cocked but realized it was you. “I almost decked you!” A kiss instead of a fist, his smile not leaving even through the peck. “Come on, to the river.”

Another tugging of the arm as you were taken to the edge of the hill and began sliding down as you tried to get down it. Your heel was flatter than you would normally wear and slid down the hill easily instead of getting caught in the ground.

“Why?!”

With an oof you came to a stop against his back. “Shhh,” he pulled you down by the ankles until you were neatly pressed into his side and your dress lifted a little too high up your thighs.

Your fingers pulled up the end of his coat, showing him a tear. A rock must have snagged it as he slid down the bank, you whispered. You presented it like you’d found a dead bird on the porch.

His hand’s weight came to settle on yours and pushed both them and the offending rip back down. He didn’t care. Evident in the sincere and calm smile he gave you. A giddiness in his eyes the only tell that his heart was pounding. Alastor let his back rest against the sharp slope of the hill to escape the full reach of the warm street lamp’s glow and you followed.

Except right now. Now you let him have his slow lean towards you.

As he got closer the question moved from will he to where will he?

Just beside your ear, close enough that his breath made you shiver. Alastor deeply enjoyed the ways he could make people’s bodies respond to him.

But then a light shone down onto the crowns of your heads and interrupted the fun. Alastor squinting to try and see past it.

“You again? Geez…you’re becoming a nuisance. Get a room, sir.” The cop shouted down the incline. “And have a little more self respect, miss.”

You moved to sit up and shout back at the man about respect but Alastor’s hand came to set on your arm.

“Thank you officer!” He nodded away the cop’s look of disapproval and waited for him to go back to looking for the box’s patrons.

“Do you think it’s him who sent the raids?” You asked when the cop was out of sight, “My former fella.”

Alastor shook his head no, “Mimzy’s had three bars raided. This was definitely just a consequence of her loose lips.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

When you made it home and did away with your coats, Alastor poured you both a nightcap. You were leaning against the back patio railing when set down the glasses and pulled you into a hug.

“No, nope. I’m not letting you distract me any longer.” You pushed him away with both hands and made a beeline inside for the kitchen. He leaned back to watch you through the screen door.

You stretched up and over the counters, pulling out a small vase he forgot he had, and grabbed the paper bag from beneath the table. He could only see your back as you fiddled with it on the table before marching to the sitting room. Taking a few steps forward, he could see you through the window now as you unsleeved a record and inspected both sides before setting it down and lifting the arm to place the needle.

A trumpet played and buzzed through the speaker. As a song he didn’t know began to play he turned back to see you at the screen door with your little vase of flowers.

Music drifted through the open window to his right. Extending his arm, he beckoned you to him.

Lead feet made you nearly trip with your first step.

Your hands were trembling as they gripped the glass and brought the flowers up.

“What's all this?” a little nervous laugh as he looked down at the bouquet you fussed over at the shop just some hours before. How many hours exactly was lost to the bootleg hooch. “Red Tulips. Daisies. Wild roses.” you pointed them out just how the shop attendant had for you, “And cornflower.”

Alaster smiled over them and then back to you.

“For you.” You lifted them just a tad higher.

Your throat was closing. Well, it felt like it was.

“And the– I heard it. This song. And I thought you'd like it. So.” You fidgeted, tapping the back of one shoe with the toebox of the other, “I got it for you. As a gift. It’s pretty new, by Ozzie Nelson, whoever that is.” He laughed at your flippant description.

His head turned slightly to the sound before setting the flowers on the porch banister. The speaker popped a little with the tune.

Stars shining bright above you.

He put his hands out to ask you to dance, and you eagerly took up the offer. It bought you a little time. While you danced, you could think.

Nightbreezes seem to whisper I love you.

Fuck.

Say nighty night and kiss me.

Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me.

While I'm alone and as blue as can be.

Alastor wasn’t listening as intently as you were. His palms could feel you beneath your dress, feel the shape of your hips as you lazily swayed together to the song.

When had he last received a gift, he wondered as you chewed on your bottom lip. He couldn’t remember. His swaying slowed as he reached back into his memories. No, he really couldn’t remember the last time someone had given him a present. Had anyone ever given him flowers?

No.

He was brought back to the moment when you leaned forward, pressing your cheek against his collar bone. He shook away the thought and resumed the slow move from left to right. Your feet did little steps in the same direction. It was dancing enough for you both. The porch wasn’t exactly conducive to a lively foxtrot and your tipsy body wasn’t up for the turns.

Stars fading, but I linger on, dear. Still craving your kiss.

I'm longing to linger til dawn, dear.

What time was it, you wondered. Was it almost time for the sun to rise? No, it couldn’t be. Would it be more romantic to wait for that? That was what people liked in these moments, special light.

You were overthinking it, looking for an excuse to delay it.

Just saying this

Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you.

“And what's the occasion? I’m the one who owes you flowers.”

His chest rumbled and you inhaled the scent of him. What if you said it and you never got to get this close again?

What was the better world to live in…The one where he was yours, or the one where he knew he was loved?

Dream a little dream of me.

It was too much to bear. The feeling was crowding your chest and stealing your air. Obviously the better world was the latter, and now you were holding up its descent. You couldn’t keep your mouth shut any longer or the words themselves would slice through your throat. The song ended and the speakers popped as the record finished its rotation.

A practiced author would call it a whirlwind romance, but that didn’t capture the violence that tangled you two together. A maelstrom love.

He didn’t say it back. He didn’t say anything at all. His eyes were heavy as he brought your knuckles to his mouth and kissed each one. That didn’t sting or alarm you. You hadn’t said it to hear it back. This wasn’t a token slid to him for anything in return this time. You said it to make sure he knew. If anything, you hadn’t really expected the sentiment to be returned. Because it hadn’t ever been about you, love apparently never was.

No, he decided at that moment he never would. A relief. A heavy load he could set down. You felt the little self assured smile against your mouth.

He needed to move, fresh electrical impulses twitching down his spine and igniting that little wool string of fear. So he took a few steps backward, bringing you with him, and let his hands cage you into more desperate kisses as his back pressed into the wall. The passion was mounting with every return, his tongue willing your mouth open so he could retreat into the honesty of your body. Pulling away, you took his face in your hands too.

His smile widened, and he shook his head no.

“Then we won’t talk.”

The expression on his face was enough for you. His eyes soft and half lidded, pupils blown. You never knew what he saw when he looked at you like that, but you knew you wanted to be whoever it was. The corners of his eyes wrinkled slightly with his smile, which was pure and sweet. He was happy, and that was all you’d wanted. All of it in your hands. No fireworks, barely a moon above you both.

You’d really not wanted to mingle the words with the actions. But Alastor’s assurance reminded you that you weren’t alone in the situation. Maybe for him they were already entangled together. Maybe he wanted them to be. You stopped acting as a monolith long ago, whether you had felt comfortable admitting that until that moment or not.

He dropped slowly down to his knees, you following with your mouth on his. With a crawl, he leaned forward and you leaned back until you were lying down.

It wasn’t quite as deep as that for him, instead acting on instinct with the magnets in his fingertips unable to break the pull and separate from your skin any longer. He was going to find out now, for the first time, if he could feel love. Could he translate it from his mouth through your skin, words unspoken still? The gasp you made when he licked up your neck made him confident he was saying something. He didn’t want to get off in that moment, nothing about you was screaming sex, but there was no earthly method he could express the way your confession made him feel. He needed you close. He needed you closer than anyone had ever been, and your words had already pulled him skin deep. Perhaps now, in this moment, if he had sex with you he’d find an unseen depth of comfort in your embrace than he’d felt before. A new level of connection for him to feel held by.

He wondered why you always told him to not seek you out. He had no plans on leaving, and if he ever lost you in the crowd like he had tonight, he’d still wander around for you. It was a silly request. You might as well ask him to not kiss your forehead before sitting on the sofa beside you or to not smile when you smiled.

So clever but so naive.

Please.

His nose nuzzled behind your ear, a voiceless whisper. His hands were scratching down your thighs and over your stockings, surely snagging the delicate weave.

Closer.

Hastily you rolled them down and did the same with your panties, Alastor seemingly too focused on gathering as much of your body into his arms as he could physically manage. You gasped when two firm hands slipped under you and pulled your ass off the porch to press up into his core.

Alastor drew his knees forward to kneel, dragging you up into his lap by the hips. Back bending, you looked up wordlessly as he unbuttoned his shirt.

“It’s cold.” You whispered, no hint of wanting him to stop but genuinely concerned for his comfort.

I’ll make it warm reverbrated across time, a little changed but the promise still intact that Alastor would heat up the cold with embraces, sexual and otherwise.

“Oh!” You squeaked, realizing this was your cue to start undressing too. You ignored the burning in your thighs at the position and reached for your own buttons, a long line down the back meant for women with husbands as it was impossible to do up alone.

As he leaned over you and hot palms slid up your arched back, his face came close to yours. No scared deer in the headlights. He looked much more self assured than something built to flee.

Ah.

Right.

An image of clashing antlers and the ringing crack they produced blocked out your second squeak as you were pulled up to be chest to chest. Arms snaking around his neck you held on tightly as he worked on the buttons for you.

His chin rested on the taut muscle that connected neck and shoulder, breaths even and hot slipping down between the skin of your back and dress as the clothing loosened under his grip.

A flutter of nerves filled you both. The space between romance and sex was always a no man’s land for you two. You preferred to rush through to the act, and Alastor struggled with transitioning loving touches to wanton ones.

But you didn’t feel that awkward gap now. Alastor seemed very confident in his movements, marching across that space to take you from love to lover.

He couldn’t see your smile as he undid the dress. This was a good answer, you thought. This didn’t feel like him pushing to give you what he expected, like he had always done with the others. It felt, very honestly, like someone wanting to do the dreaded thing you always avoided; make love. You couldn’t say you had ever thought what made fucking and love making different, you just knew you hadn’t cared for mixing sex with emotion. But this was all emotion now. An act of surrender for you, an act of commitment from him. A deep slow breath to steady yourself. You’d give him whatever he wanted and needed. And if that was more than you’d managed before, you’d find a way to be more than you had been. You could still be yourself. Just…a little extra. For him. When he pleaded so sincerely.

You rose on your knees to lift your center from his lap, allowing him the space to undo his belt and free himself from his pants. His hands moved under the curtain of your dress and you kept your eyes on the wall behind him. Looking him in the eyes would happen, you knew that, but you weren’t ready to get stuck in his stare just yet.

Clinging on to his shoulders you worked together to lower yourself back down, a slow seating down onto his member. You swallowed a gasp and let your body weight fully settle. An ache radiated from deep within you as he bottomed out and then pressed further with your relaxed form giving way. His hands slipped up your back and held onto your shoulders, face pressed into your neck and tickling you with every breath.

He could say with confidence you hugged him in a loving embrace and it let his body relax into the moment. The gasps and dryness of his lips went unnoticed by him. But not you, if you closed your eyes all you could hear was his breathing. Instinctively your arms tightened until you were holding his head to you. Sex with Alastor never felt like being fucked. Like being used as some sleeve for a man. You always felt like you were receiving much more from him, never like you were giving. Except now, with how his lips left lazy open mouth kisses on your collar bone, it felt like you were providing him with something.

Alastor pulled away and you slowed before stopping in response. The part you knew would come, because you knew Alastor. Both hands took your face for a proper kiss. His lips stuck a little to yours, but he licked them and tried again. Such a slow kiss for the occasion, passion could be languid when you had the time for it. And you had nothing but time now. That was what you promised him when you confessed, to be there through time now and ever.

He pulled away to rest his forehead against yours. This was intimacy, this was what existed between you both as something was communicated from his eyes to yours. The instinct to look away was clawing at you but you fought it. His eyes were so beautiful, even in the dark. That was how you first saw them, in the dark of an alleyway.

Without warning he broke the longing look and kissed you again.

Forever, you’d said. And Alastor held those words as tightly as he held you now. Forever was all that he needed.

His tongue roamed around your mouth hungrily.

Closer.

Your own hands held tightly to his head as he leaned forward. Gently, his kiss slowing as he focused on setting you down on the porch, you were returned to your back. It took strength to do it so smoothly, that hidden muscle that betrayed his slender frame.

Letting him take the lead was easy, in that moment every move dripped with an arousing confidence. The sweet gasps melted into tiny grunts that made you clench around him, the kiss breaking with his thrusts.

His belt was cold, hitting against the top of your ass with every slap of his hips. You used the heel of your shoe to try and push his pants down further but didn’t get far. You whispered a ‘fuck it’ and let your legs hug onto him.

A rain of ‘please’ fell from your mouth, begging him to maintain that strong even pace but also praying he’d finish inside this time. You wanted that liquid heat pooling in your guts.

Alastor wanted to kiss you more, but he knew better than to interrupt his rhythm. He wanted to feel you spasming around his cock, feel your body tighten and go stock still under him.

Maybe he imagined it, maybe it was your slight embarrassed blushing, but you did feel different. He could have sworn you felt warm, softer. He felt he was getting lost in your touch like someone losing their way in the safety of a well maintained park. No danger, but no idea where he was or what he was really doing there. But it was lovely. That midsummer day glow and warmth you could only enjoy in the shade of tall trees.

There he was again, mind wandering with flashes of beautiful places and sensations as his muscles began to tire.

You bit your lip and tensed your core to help along the rising pressure. Fingers raked down his scalp and neck as you crossed the peak and came on his slowing cock.

A second was given to you to come down before he began his own finish.

It didn’t take long for his hips to go weak and for him to lose his rhythm. Apart from you, the sensation of a wet and writhing organ against his slit was vaguely alien and gross. But your twitching insides was a trophy he was always eager to earn. He had to lean back which meant your chest making contact with the cold air that filled the void. His handkerchief was quickly pulled from his chest pocket and brought to his cock as he managed to hold off cumming until he was safely free of you. It worked poorly, semen leaking through the threads and sticking to his hand. He hissed but wiped his hand clean the best he could on the handkerchief’s edges.

Alastor leaned over and kissed your cheek, and then your nose, and then because he felt the compulsion, your already kiss swollen lips. When he moved his head to carry on down your collar bone you unclenched your eyes. You could see the flowers above your head on the banister.

You remembered reading The Language of Flowers poster to the florist as you chose your bouquet. When she pointed out each one to you, you repeated the meanings in your head.

“Red tulips,”

I declare my love.

“Wild Roses,”

I love you truly.

“Daisies,”

Pain and Pleasure.

“And, lastly,” the shopkeeper sounded sentimental as she gestured to the blue petals, “Cornflower.”

Be gentle with me.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:･

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@eris-norwega @reath-solia @catticora , @angelicribbons , @xalygatorx

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog ,

@thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies

@howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @fizzled-phoenix , @star-kujo-platinum

, @a-case-of-attachment, @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl @smoky000

@hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain

@harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby

@dontfuckbutimfab @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12

#no funny tags cuz i poured my heart out up there #human alastor x reader #human alastor x reader smut #x reader #hazbin hotel fan fiction #article by mink

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ghost-in-a-raincoat · 1 year ago

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Where's that picture of Dean Winchester that says, "He is like a woman to me" ? Where is it?

#he really is babygirl #i desire him carnally #but i also want to keep him safe and provide for him #he deserves the world #supernatural #dean winchester #destiel #jensen ackles

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buttercuparry · 5 months ago

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Help Siraj get to 70k by Thursday!!

Some bloggers were less than pleased with my most recent posts where I talked about how Palestine has become a momentary trend for many, and accused me of trying to "guilt trip". They even predicted that these posts wouldn't bring in any sustained support for Siraj Abudayeh ( @siraj2024 ) and advised me to instead keep it to the point. Well alright then, let's keep it short and get to the point:

Siraj Abudayeh is a journalist who is fundraising to survive and rebuild in Gaza as he has no plans to evacuate

Recently he became the sole provider of FIVE FAMILIES- both his own and that of his parents and married siblings, after they all fled to him to escape the recent IOF attacks.

As he is now fundraising to bear the cost of all 23 family members, he is even more desperate to finish his campaign.

What the family needs most now is access to clean drinking water. With 10 children ( Siraj's sons and their cousins) to take care of and with the polio epidemic spreading in camps, this is imperative.

He has requested us to help him buy a submersible water generator and network tools. This is costly but with water treating plants and other facilities being completely destroyed, this is the only long term solution for now.

For 11 months Siraj has hesitated to buy a water generator. He was afraid that he wouldn't be able to manage it while also making sure that his family had something to eat. But since there are more children (all between 6 and 12 years of age) to take care of now, he cannot put this off anymore. The settler state has already unchilded them- they risk their lives and walk long distances to look for drinkable water to carry back in heavy pails, when they instead should have been working on their homeworks or playing. Siraj wants them to at least be relatively safe from having to take such risks to survive.

Siraj needs to reach 70k by THURSDAY, that is within 3 days, so that he can start the process of making a purchase. You said that I do not need to write scathing posts to have your attention, so I am here now requesting you to act upon Siraj’s plea for help.

He is currently only at $65,393 CAD . That is 4.6k away from our next short term goal. Boost and donate and help him access clean water for the children.

[ GFM LINK ] [ Vetting #219]

#free palestine #free gaza #all eyes on Rafah

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kaijutegu · 1 year ago

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Aug ABSOLUTELY deserves the praise, @ryukikit. St. Augustine Alligator Farm is one of my favorite animal facilities, hands down. It's a pretty zoo, doable in an afternoon if you kinda like crocodilians, or an all day affair if you REALLY like crocodilians. Here are my favorite things about it and why I think it's worth supporting.

1. They keep animals in interesting social groups.

Crocodilians are heavily involved parents, but most places that breed them don't have the enclosure space to let the babies stay with the parents. St. Augustine does. One of my favorite groups was their crèche of slender-snouted crocodiles. They had the parents and then a yearling cohort and a new hatchling cohort. This aligns with how these guys live in the wild- the babies stick around longer! They have the space for it, and they are very in tune with the social needs of their animals.

Very, very few zoos can keep their baby crocs with the adults and still perform maintenance and animal health checks safely. This doesn't mean these facilities are bad- it just means that they have different management practices. And frankly, a lot of these species aren't frequently bred elsewhere. Your average zoo doesn't need a setup where you can have a multiyear crèche for slender-snouted crocodiles. Some species have better success when the young are pulled early, and some zoos are better set up to raise out any offspring separately or behind the scenes. Every facility's practices are different, and this just happens to work well at St. Augustine and be really enjoyable to see as a zoo patron.

Crocodilians are exceptional parents and very protective. It's a sign of incredible animal management practices and animals that feel very comfortable with staff that St. Augustine can do this with nearly every species they breed.

2. They understand the social needs of their animals.

Some crocodilians are social. Some are solitary. Some can live happily with a member of the opposite sex but get territorial around members of the same sex. St. Augustine pays incredible attention to their social groupings to ensure that they aren't just meeting the animals' physical health needs but their social needs as well. They do continuous scientific research about social structures in crocodilians, taking blood samples to test stress hormones and observing stress behaviors to see how group dynamics change.

For example, St. Augustine is home to one of the world's largest known living saltwater crocodiles, Maximo. And his comparatively tiny mate, Sydney. During the educational presentations with these two, they point out that even their monster of a croc needs his social group- he won't eat if she's not around and he is calmer during medical checks if he can see her. These animal share a deep and special pair bond, and they make sure to talk about how the social aspect of these animals' lives is integral to their care. It's a unique aspect of the way they talk about these animals, because he IS a spectacle and he IS a sensation, but they don't talk about him like he's a mindless killing machine- they talk about him like he's a big, complex predator with social needs like any other animal. Aug is the only facility I've been to where the emotional and social needs of crocodilians is part of the education they provide guests- and speaking of education...

3. Their demos and presentations are extremely good.

The presentations at St. Augustine are some of the best I've ever seen, and I've seen literally hundreds of animal talks on everything from aardvarks to zebras. But as you... can probably tell from my blog content, I've spent a lot of time learning about and working with reptiles. I really enjoyed all of their presentations because they are very scientific about things and avoid sensationalism. They really want you to be fascinated by these creatures and love them- but more than anything else, they want you to respect them.

Also, they do a really good job handling their ambassadors. I really enjoyed something as simple as watching an educator tell us about snakes. Throughout the whole presentation she made sure that most of the snake's body was looped in her hand. The snake was always supported and was very calm. She gave the snake plenty of head room so that it didn't feel constricted- it was just good handling all around.

But also, the presentations made it clear how much the park cares about the animals' well-being. When they do the feeding and training presentations, they make it very clear that the animals' participation is entirely voluntary. They do things differently for their 9-foot saltie and their 16-foot saltie, because the 16-footer is so large and heavy he actually struggles walking on land sometimes. They adapt their programs and his care to ensure that he's completely comfortable- and he didn't actually participate in the whole feeding when I was watching! At no point did they try to push him into anything uncomfortable; they offered, he didn't engage, and they moved on. It was a clear expression of his boundaries, and I really appreciated how much his caretakers respected that.

4. Ethical Interactions

I've been to... a lot of tourist locations in Florida that have animals you can hold. Almost always against my will! Many of them are pretty terrible, and you don't actually learn much, if anything. But I really found that to not be the case at St. Augustine. Every single animal presentation and interaction opportunity was accompanied by education about the animal's biology, habits, and- crucially- their conservation status.

When I held a baby alligator at St. Augustine, the proctors- there were two, one to ensure I was holding the gator correctly and the other to educate- were very informative about the role alligators play in their ecosystem and their conservation history. The animals were all properly banded, and one of the two proctors was there to ensure that none of the baby alligators were uncomfortable. As soon as they started getting squirmy or tense, they were removed, unbanded, and taken to an off-exhibit area to relax. And when the babies age out of petting size, they just go in the lagoon to live with others of their species. I saw one upset alligator the entire time I was there, and he was clearly upset that his escape attempt was foiled by a keeper during my nursery tour.

Even though he's restrained in this shot, you can see that his full body and tail are supported, and the grip, while firm, is gentle. He's distressed, but after I took this picture, she put him in his enclosure and he calmed down immediately.

Sometimes when you have petting attractions with baby animals, those animals... don't have a happy ending. (See: cub petting.) But St. Augustine's program is fine- the gators are all aged out of wanting to have mom around, there's no declawing/defanging, and they're handled with care. And it's worth it, because people love what they understand. St. Augustine was integral in raising public awareness about alligators back in the 60s when they were endangered, and now they're thriving- largely in part to programs like St. Augustine getting people to care.

And speaking of getting people to care, let's talk about their research.

5. Shared Research Results

St. Augustine is also home to more species of crocodilian than anywhere else in North America- all of them, usually. (They didn't have a Tomistoma when I visited- that may have changed.)

Because of this species diversity, it's an incredible research resource. Having every species means that you can do a lot of work comparing their behaviors, their growth patterns, and more. They've been a major research site for crocodilian biology since the 1970s. Today, they're one of the key sites for studying crocodilian play and social behaviors. They actually maintain a blog where they post copies of papers that were written using their animals, meaning that you can actually see the results of the research your admission helps fund. You can see that right here: https://www.alligatorfarm.com/conservation-research/research-blog/

All of this adds up to a zoo that provides a unique experience, tons of actual education, and transparency about what its research and conservation steps actually are. St. Augustine's come a long way since its opening in 1893, and they really do want you to leave with a new respect for the animals they care for. Ultimately, if you're a fan of reptiles, you can feel good about visiting the St. Augustine Alligator Farm- their care and keeping are top of the line, they do a ton of innovative conservation research and support for conservation organizations, and you can see this animal there:

(Gharial from the front. Nothing is wrong with her that's just what they look like from the front.)

#long post #st. augustine alligator farm #alligator #crocodile #reptiblr

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beloveds-embrace · 3 months ago

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noona. noon. any angsty thoughts to share for the duke au? 👁️ (i’m craving angst sorry)

Original post

I DO!! Angst version of the au would be if you weren’t welcomed at all. Sure, no one is being flat out rude to you, no one is actively sabotaging you and John doesn’t hit or force you into anything.

But it’s lonely.

The maids barely touch you, as if disgusted they have to help and tend to the woman their Duke needed to and not wanted to marry, and the butlers are the same. Especially the head butler Garrick. You still don’t know his first name and he doesn’t seem inclined to tell you.

During the dinner… nights with John, you’ve started noticing that your food isn’t quite as well done as his? Less decorated, occasionally burnt or not cooked well, but you don’t want to cause any trouble so you remain silent and John never asks why you seem to eat so little.

You do also meet Duke Riley, the man that John is said to have an incredibly close friendship with, something born during his time servicing the kingdom. You’ve heard so much about him, from bad to good, and you wonder how he actually is.

In the end, you wish you hadn’t met him, too. The humiliation of being flat-out ignored in your own home while he speaks amicably with John…

So yes. Life as Duchess Price isn’t a happy one, but you are just glad you aren’t physically hurting.

But you do find solace in the only kindness your parents had bothered to show you before they gave you away; your personal knight, König. He is the only one to not treat you as such. He is the only one you can confide in, feel just a little bit of happiness and friendship with even if you haven’t even seen his face yet.

“I’m so tired,” you whisper to him one night, under the blanket of the night sky. You’d thrown a simple shawl over your shoulders, and hadn’t questioned it when he fell in steps behind you, always a protective shadow. Today had been hard. You had also decided to no longer dine with John, not too excited about the lackluster food and the stilted conversations. Cold maids, lonely night… you ached for something more.

You take in a shuddering breath, wrapping the shawl tighter around yourself. Konig stands right beside the bench you are sitting on, a familiar and comforting sight and presence. But tonight, it’s not enough. “I’m so tired, König.” You repeat, your voice cracking.

König simply stares at you for a while; you are used to it, used to everything about him. The mask, the accent, the unyielding body that is always keeping you safe. The quiet congestions you have had, during the days you lock yourself away in your office to ignore the loneliness and sadness plaguing you.

You aren’t used to seeing König bend down in front of you, holding his hands out until you place them in his. Familiar pale eyes peer up at you. Proper etiquette doesn’t matter to you in this moment; who will chastise you for the lack of it when this entire duchy holds only the most basic form of respect for you?

Even if they did, you would not let go of König, your confidant. Your knight.

“…What do you need, mylady?”

After a silent moment, you take in a deep breath and look back at him. “…I want… someone who loves me enough to be kind towards me. I want someone who loves me.”

König nods his head. With bated breath, you watch silently as he brings your hands forward, under his mask, to kiss each knuckle on your hands.

“I am your knight, mylady. I am your sword, and your shield. I, too, can be your lover if that is what you want, mylady. Whatever you desire, it is my duty to provide.” König breathes out against your skin, eyes not once flicking away, words not once breaking. He is fully devoted in his decision. “Will you allow me, mylady? The decision is your, always has been. I cannot take you away from this horrible place-“ not yet. “-but I can give you my love and devotion, just as I’ve always done. Will you allow me, mylady?”

And after everything you’ve been through, all the pain and loneliness and exclusion- you can’t say no.

“…Yes, König.”

(By the time John begins to realize that he may have misjudged you, once you find out the truth, it is already far too late for mending any bridges. There is no particular feeling when you look at him, or any of his men. You only ask that no one bothers your time alone with your shadow, your knight. It’s far too late for anything.)

Part 2 + dukedom au masterlist

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tbaluver · 5 months ago

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When You Randomly Turn Into A Cat- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader synopsis: a day where you randomly turn into a cat and how they love and deep space men would take care and spend the day with you ! genre: silly and cute a/n: hihi lovelies! sorry this took so long to write i had to channel in all the cat videos i loved and seen and put it into each scenario for each men ! (ᵕ—ᴗ—) i also had to make sure some cat facts were true or not just in case and also because i don't own a cat but i rlly want one (•ᴗ•,, ) i hope you all enjoy ! ^•ﻌ•^ฅ♡ If any new readers are here you can read where the men turn into cats here; When They Turn Into Cats any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier /ᐠ˵- ᴗ -˵マ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 :

Xavier wasn't particularly shocked that you would turn into a cat but truly surprised him was the timing of it. You both speculated that his transformation one time might be linked to his recent handling of a Protocore and it would eventually spread to you. He just didn't anticipate that this would happen in the middle of a mission. Fortunately, he managed to defeat the remaining Wanderers, scooping you up along with your clothes, and bring you both safely back home.

There were no answers on the internet on what to do when your partner turns into a cat. He doesn't understand how you did so well when you took care of him when he randomly turned into one. He only wishes that he can do the same for you as you did with him.

The first step Xavier does is search for any leftover cat food but finds nothing so he takes you along to the grocery store. He'll gently place you in the baby seat of the shopping cat, determined to find the best options for you. He scrutinizes every brand of cat food and snack, carefully considering what you might like. To ensure you would have everything you could possibly need, he ends up buying far more than necessary, his cart basically overflowing with a mountain of cat supplies.

When you both return home, there is no doubt that Xavier showers you with affection. He lavishes you with cuddles and kisses in between your ears. He finds your feline form to be cute and can't help but pet you, his fingers gently brushing through your soft fur. You enjoy in the soothing touch, arching your back in contentment as he continues his gentle caress. The two of you settle into a cozy spot for nap, as he drifts off to sleep to the comforting rhythm of your adorable purrs and you fall asleep to his gentle caress. You've always been a source of comfort for him and you still are even in this tiny cat form.

Xavier can't help but feel a little jealous when he finds you curled up on the plushies that he won you in the claw machine, instead of you nestled comfortably on his lap or cradled in his arms. It stings a little to see you so content with the plushie and wishes that it was him to provide you with that comfort. Same thing when you knead your plushies with your paws, he can't help but feel envy, wishing that direct attention was towards him instead.

To keep you entertained as a cat, Xavier downloads a few interactive cat games on his phone. He places the phone down, allowing you to paw at the moving images and you pretend as if you were catching them. Another way he can play with you is using playful revenge on your plushies. He watches with amusement as you pounce and swat at the plush toys, your antics providing both of you with entertainment.

Whenever Xavier grabs a snack, he makes sure you feel included in the moment. He helps you to select a treat you want to try by holding it out and shares it with you, making sure you have your own little snack to enjoy alongside with him.

When it was night time and time for bed, even though both of you took several naps the entire day, he prepares for bed. He settles beside you, gently reaching out to stroke your fur with a soothing touch. Carefully, he pulls the blanket up, tucking it around the both of you to create a comfy cocoon. As he holds you clos, he presses tender kisses to the top of your head. "Goodnight honey. No matter what form you're in, you'll always be my partner for life." He whispers, eagerly waiting for the morning to come so you'll be back in your human form.

Zayne /ᐠ - ˕ -マ :

It was Zayne’s day off and he was in the kitchen, preparing a delicious and nutritious meal for the two of you. Meanwhile, you were in the living room, browsing through DVDs or anything you can find on the TV to watch for your movie marathon. You both chatted back and forth while he worked in the kitchen as you continued to browse in the living room until minutes ticked by and he noticed you were quiet. Out of curiosity, he peeks through the kitchen and sees the living room empty. He calls out for you but he is met with no response. A wave of concern washes over him as he quickly turns off the stove and makes his way to the living room to find a bewildered cat.

He sighs deeply, knowing this all too well. He had experienced this bizarre transformation himself not too long ago. A smile creeps up on his lips as he crouches down, extending a hand to your feline form. “I guess I have to make a different lunch for you now.” He murmurs as you brush against his hand.

He’ll find the cat food that you fed him when he once turned into a cat randomly one day and he’ll feed that to you. He knows that the mixed kibble was unappetizing but as he scooped up a portion and placed it in front of you, he gave you a reassuring soft smile. He gently pats your head, his fingers brushing through your fur to offer some reassurance as you hesitantly ate the food. As you eat, he promises that he’ll buy you some yummy foods when you’re back to normal.

Since it was his day off, he'll finish up any chores around the house. He gathered all the freshly laundered clothes out of the dryer as you trailed after him. When he sets the basket down in your shared room, you couldn't resist the inviting warmth of the freshly dried clothes and hopped right into the basket. You nestled inside the fluffy pile, your body curling up into it. The warmth and softness was irresistible and not too long you find yourself drifting off into sleep. His gaze would soften when he finally notices you inside of the basket, smiling fondly at the sight. He scoops you up, cradling you carefully before placing you gently on your shared bed.

Once he finished folding the clothes, he returned to you. Your eyes slowly flutters open and to help ease you into waking up, he carefully extends your limbs, stretching your front paws upwards.

Zayne would make sure to play with you so you're not bored the entire day. Sometimes when he has do some other chores, he'll leave the TV on so you can go watch. Or he'll gather a selection of plushies you both had won from the claw machine and toss them around as you pounce and batted at the plushies. If you weren't feeling the plushies anymore, he'll reach for the laser pointer he uses for panel discussions and watches in amusement as you chase it around.

Although it was his day off, he still chooses to do a couple hospital reports. While he's busy typing away on the computer, he lets you curl into his lap as he finishes up his work. Despite his best efforts to stay concentrated, you made it a habit of hopping in front of his computer, inserting yourself in front of him to grab his attention. It seems your stubbornness remains even if you were a cat because this goes on for a couple of minutes. "Behave." He would gently scoop you back into his lap or nudge you aside and you would end up back in front of his computer, blocking his hands from typing on his keyboard. It was impossible to ignore you, melting at the small feline form in front of him. Folding, his hands instinctively find their way to scratch the back of your ears. He would take this as a sign to finally take a break and enjoy his day off with you, even if you were a cat.

As nightfall arrived, you trailed after him into the bathroom where he began his nightly routines. You were perched on the counter, watching him do your skin care routine that you both normally do. He made sure you felt included, using a small brush and gently groomed your fur.

He scoops you up after he finishes his routine and carried you to the bedroom. He places a gentle kiss between your ears, right on the top of your head. He placed you gently onto the bed, arranging the covers and settles beside you. "Even though you're adorable as a cat," he murmurs softly, "I miss you. Come back soon, my love." He whispers, eagerly waiting for morning to come when you return back to your human form.

Rafayel ฅᨐฅ :

A wave of emotions washed over him. Fear. Panic. Uneasiness. His lover has turned into something he had feared the most. A wanderer? No. Worse. A cat. What gods has he upset for this too happen? Why must he go through so much feline presence in his life? For him to be one and now you?

Rafayel would snap out of his daze as you began to nuzzle against his legs. Slowly, he'd start to come to terms with the idea of having you as a cat for a day might not be as daunting as he initially feared. Nuzzling against his legs gave him a reassuring contact of your soft fur and helped him realize that you wouldn't do anything to harm him. You were still his caring and beloved partner and he will continue to love you even if you were a cat. It wouldn't be so bad or so he thought.

In this cat form it seems you have the zoomies. He expected you to be a laid back cat but instead, you had turned his entire day into a constant adventure. Not only are you darting around the house with enthusiasm but you're also sneaking into every nook and cranny. You've slipped in behind shelves, climbing into fragile small statues around his studio, and even perching on the edges of delicates vases.

Rafayel would constantly be on the move, trying to keep up with your mischief. One time you had darted into the kitchen cabinets, where all his expensive glassware was located. You refused to come down despite his pleas and he wonders if you were just being stubborn or if you were just having too much fun teasing him. When he manages to catch you, he wraps you into a blanket, like a burrito to keep you still. He smirks as you meow in protest and he returns to his painting, chatting with you softly as he works.

When you're finally out of your zoomies, he'll let you go from the blanket but he'll only regret that later. You approach him, holding out a fish plushie and he thought you were hungry but truly you just wanted to play. "Hey fish aren't food!" He huffs, a pout forming on his lips as he gently removes the plushie from your mouth and crosses his arms in mock disapproval. "I want my cutie back....this cat is slowly turning her into a monster....."

He'll take this as a sign to go find you some food. Food that isn't fish related. He'll make sure to find something that's good and the best rated cat food for you.

Whenever there a fly or bug that made its way into his studio, Rafayel would make you help to catching it. In your human form, you'd be squeamish about dealing with insects and would leave the tasks to him. But now since you're a cat, you're fascinated by the challenge of catching it. He would gently lift you into the air, holding you up so high so you could get a better shot at the tiny intruders. He'll give you a mix of encouragement and amusements as you grab the bugs with your paws.

You are Rafayel's muse and he's determined to keep you in that role. He'll position you on a stool where you stand tall, ready to be the subject of his art. You meow in protest, growing fatigued but he urges you to stay still just for a little longer. The finished sketches of you s a cat turned out to be truly adorable once you see them later. You don't know how he's so uneasy around cats.

As nightfall came around, he settles beside you in bed. Typically you would be curled up together, foreheads against each other but tonight is different with your smaller, feline form. He stays close, tenderly brushing your fur as if it were your hair. His eyes were growing heavy with sleep and he whisper softly, "No matter if you're a cat, a goose, or anything else, my heart's deepest wish is to be with you in every form in every life time. Sleep well my beloved. I shall see you again in the morning."

Sylus ≽^-˕-^≼ :

Sylus would be informed by Mephisto that you turned into a cat. He was initially be taken aback but quickly settled into a knowing smile, knowing this experience of a similar transformation himself. He would immediately find you and when he does, he tries his best not to snicker from how amusing this was but it came out anyway. It seems you have taken the nickname Kitten, a little to seriously. You would protest in meows and his snicker would turn into a louder laugh and your cat ears turn into airplane mode.

He reaches for his phone and scoops you up to settle you into his lap. He adjusts the screen so it was perfectly angled for you to also see as his other free hand gently stroked your fur. He scrolled through various stores, adding items to his cart with things you might enjoy or need in this temporary form. He'll know you were interested in it when you paw at the screen, lowly chuckling in amusement as you do so. Not wanting to leave your side, he orders Luke and Kieran to pick up what he ordered.

You didn’t think it would be even possible for this man to be more affectionate with you even if you were a cat. He would pepper your head and nose with lots of kisses and he would find it even more amusing when you would place your paw on his mouth to stop. He doesn’t listen and continues to do so anyway, finding this cat form of you to be adorable. He also loves to brush his fingertips against your paw/ toe beans. He’s careful to not apply too much pressure on them so he doesn’t hurt you.

Mephisto may not be your biggest fan ever in your human form, but he's definitely not warming up to you as a cat either. In this cat form of yours, you have an enhanced agility that helps you jump and try to catch him on his perch. Your attempts to chase him around the house seem to get intense that Sylus had to step in and separate you two so you both can behave.

In this cat form, it seems as your cat senses heightened, driving you to explore the house in new ways you haven’t before. You find yourself climbing onto high shelves and underestimating just how high up you were up. Sylus noticing your predicament, he would sigh and grab a basket to help you climb down. However, your fear of falling to your demise, you meow in protest as you tremble at the idea.

You tried to place a paw into the basket, in hopes to provide a safe descent but looking down and how light the basket was, made you freeze in place. You backed away and retreated further into the shelf. “It’s okay. I got you,” He would reassure you, his voice calm and soothing. Despite his efforts of holding the basket out for you to jump into, you continued to meow in protest, clearing preferring the direct approach of being lifted down by his hands instead. He finally caught on when you ignored his third attempt with the basket and instead reached out with his hands as you crawled towards his forearms. Once you are finally safe in his arms, he strokes your fur with tender care. He lets out a soft sigh, “You really don’t want to make it easy for me don’t you kitten?” He murmurs, "meow."

When it was dinner time, you'd perch on the kitchen counter beside Sylus, watching with curious eyes as he hummed contentedly while preparing his meal before preparing your cat meal. He carefully selects the best rated cat food, ensuring it was packed with essential nutrients and vitamins. After serving you with the cat food, he would spoil you with a few tasty cat treats, hoping they would be a little more enjoyable for you than the cat food. His attention to your needs will always be attentive even if you were a cat.

After you both settled into bed, Sylus lies on his back, inviting you to curl up on his chest. As your eyes fluttered close, a content purr rumbles through your body and he can feel the gentle vibrations against him. He strokes your fur tenderly, his own eyes heavy with sleep. He murmurs as he wishes you a goodnight, "Goodnight princess. I hope to see you in my dreams and see you back in my arm again when I wake up."

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bluebellhairpin · 6 months ago

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Cregan Stark X Wife!Reader

Summary: Preparation to leave to Castle Black for the winter months is well under way, and you're reluctant to be left alone in Winterfell. Cregan, having had the same worry, provides what could be a solution. A solution with a name. And fur. (wc. 2.3k>)

Warnings: Reader has she/her pronouns + fem bodied. Pregnancy. Assassination attempt. Unnamed character death. Blood + gore. Cregan wants to be a girl dad. Unedited (lol).

Listening to: 'Wolf at Your Door' by Chole x Halle - "When you're laying in your bed at night, when the air's just a little too quiet, better hope that you're saying your prayers."

Series Masterlist || Masterlist || Ko-Fi || AO3 link

Winterfell was a somber place when the cold rolled down from the north.

Although only ten men were sent to the wall every winter, everyone left behind knew someone who was sent away. No matter how short of a life you lived, you also always knew someone who died there. Indeed, life on the wall was as harsh as the force it existence kept at bay.

For you though, the man you lost always returned. The last three winters had you spend upwards of three months without your husband - and in turn rising to take his place as custodian of Winterfell. No matter how busy the role kept you, it never helped you miss Cregan Stark any less.

With winter approaching once more, each moment with him seemed to not be enough. Yes, the Wall was dangerous, and even Cregan was never guaranteed to return, but this year there was something else that willed you to want him to stay. Something else that made him want to stay too.

“Each day my resolve seems to crack,” he told you one night, fire cracked in its hearth as you both lay under blankets of fur. His hand rested protectively over your belly. “Already now I can see our babe grow, and I know I’ll not only be missing you but her too.”

“‘Her’?” you hummed, head turning to nose his cheek. “Such a confident tone, my lord.”

“I am confident.” he replied, turning to press a soft kiss to your lips as his hand idlily rubbed along your stomach.

“And if you needed an heir at the end of this cold winter, what then?”

“If my lady wife deems me worthy, we might try for one again.” he said, sedating what could’ve been the start of your mood change with words almost too sweet to be coming from the frosty king in the north. “But that is something we can decide once all three of us are safe together when summer rises.”

Cregan’s soft words and warm breath on your cheeks made your mind wandered to a time not so far away where you wouldn’t have his heat so close. A time when his comfort was going to be gone.

“I’m going to miss you.” you said, turning into his hold more, and he let you snuggle into his chest. “This time will feel longer than all the others.”

“I doubt that will be the case for you.” he said, lips moving from their place pressed into your hair. “Winterfell will keep you busy, between that and resting for the babe’s sake, you won’t have time on your hands for much else.”

“I may not want to rest.”

“You will. The Lord of Winterfell commands it.”

“The Lord of Winterfell won’t be here, he cannot have a for sure say in what I do or do not do.” You felt him smile into your hair, and you pulled away with a twitch of your own mouth. “What?”

He pulled away a little too, shyly smiling down at where you still laid. He was acting far too coy to be considered normal.

“I might not be leaving you completely alone.”

“... Cregan.” you started, sitting up on our elbow.

“I was going to show you on the morrow, but since you’ve forced my hand -”

“-I? Forcing your hand?”

“- Since you forced my hand,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he slipped out from the bedcovers, “I will be right back.”

“What…” You tried, but your voice tempered out as he swiftly made his way from your bedchambers.

Sighing, you sat back in your pillows, arms folded, and refraining from pouting. It wasn’t long into your settled position of guessing what in the seven kingdoms your husband was doing before he was back.

Cregan had clearly gone outside, snow settled on the top of his hair and along the shoulders of the fur cloak he snatched before leaving. In his arms was something squirming. You frowned, eyeing the movement under the cloak as he strode over.

“What is that?” you asked.

“A protector for the Lady of Winterfell, as per the orders of her lord husband.” Cregan said, and let the squirming mass break free from his hold onto the bed.

It was a… pup? No not possible, it was too big. From how it acted it was a few months surely, but it was just so big. Then you thought some more. Could it really be?

“A direwolf?”

“Not any direwolf. Yours.” Cregan said, rounding the bed and settling back at your side. “A protector to be at your side when I cannot. I’ve been training him and he follows commands well already. By the time I leave he should be grown to the size of any regular dog - then at least twice that when I return.”

While he spoke, the pup sniffed around your bed covers, curiously wandering on unsteady feet. You had to admit, he looked gorgeous, all black fur, with green eyes, and you didn’t doubt he would grow to be a fierce thing. But sometimes that wasn’t always good.

“Cregan, are you sure about this?” you asked. “It’s… he’s a direwolf, not a dog.”

“I’m sure,” he said, lending his arm out. The pup stepped closer, licking Cregan’s fingers and settling on its belly with its nose on Cregan’s knee. “They’re our house symbol. The direwolf are as Stark as I am, they know who we are, and they can be as loyal as they are fierce. That’s why I wanted to introduce you before I left. He’s going to be yours, loyal to you.”

His arm wrapped around your shoulder, and like second nature you made yourself comfortable by his side. The pup shifted too, now his nose was itching closer to you, wanting to know who this new person was.

“I supposed you ought to tell me what I'm going to be calling him then.”

“You can call him anything you like,” Cregan said, “But I’ve been calling him Striker.”

Five months passed, and Cregan was right. You were never without anything to do.

The babe growing inside you made mornings rough, and you often weren’t seen before noon, especially in the earlier months. The rest of your day was spent catching up on what you’d missed while resting, and then catching up on what you missed while catching up. Then the evenings were spent with Striker.

He had grown on you, just as he had grown physically. Cregan was still able to lift the wolf when he left, but now you doubted it. He was already well on his way to rivalling a regular wolf in size. Despite how intimidating that might’ve been, you couldn’t be more fond of Striker even if you tried.

Your belly swelled, and with it so did the direwolf’s protectiveness. Your handmaids were tolerated, your guards struggled to be in the same room, and when the maesters dared tough you Striker had to be sent out of the room. Walks around Winterfell were soon out of the question, at least if you were to bring the direwolf along, since he took to growling at everyone who stood too close.

Cregan really picked well, Striker surely was serving his purpose, and soon he earned his namesake.

Word came from Castle Black that Cregan was going to return, that the Winter had been fended off once more. That brought joy foremost to you, but really all in Winterfell knew what that meant, even if Westeros didn’t. It was cause for celebration when they returned.

It also gave a false sense of security. Winter was gone, and so was the evil - but evil didn’t just come from the north. It could come from anywhere.

You’d settled into bed for the night, Striker laid beside you, head facing towards the door, and your hand rested on his flank as you looked over one last paper. He growled, and you petted his fur, silently reassuring him that it was just a guard passing outside - but then his head lifted, and turned toward your window. His sudden, still alertness put you on edge.

He’d been hostile before, but this was aggressive.

Candle flames flickered, Striker’s fur stood on end beneath your palm, the latch on your window clicked open, creaked open, and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. A cloaked figure slipped into your room, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to cry for help - nor to remember anything Cregan had taught you. But you didn’t have to.

The figure, a man, unsheathed a knife, and with the glint of steel in the candlelight Striker struck. He surged off the bed with a vicious bark and bit into the man’s arm, snarling all the while and all but went to tearing the man to shreds.

The commotion had people coming in through the door, and the sight had you still rendered motionless and speechless.

The man’s cloak was torn away, and by now he was pinned to the floor, blood pooling on the stone as he fruitlessly tried to get Striker off him. You barely registered your guard, Gunther, asking you what was happening.

“He came in the window. He had a knife.” was all you could say. You could guess he was saying things to calm you down as he pried your fingers off your bedsheets that covered your swollen belly - he was probably trying to get you out of the room so you didn’t see the mess. It was too late for that. The man was a whimpering, bloodied mess on the floor by now, and no one had yet been brave enough to pry Striker’s jaw off his shoulder.

Gunther had an arm around you with your hand in his, guiding you away. Others attempted to move closer, either to help the man or take him away - but Striker was still growling.

“Striker, here.” you called, just finding your voice enough for it to carry over the commotion. The direwolf looked up, and seeing you being led away, he relented, fitting into your side with ease.

The three of you walked away. Now you were away from the scene you could think again and guess you were going down the hall to another room, one you decided you’d stay in until Cregan returned.

You looked down at Striker, threading your fingers though the fur at his neck.

“Good boy.” you said, stroking between his ears.

“He sure is, my lady.” Gunther said, “Who knows what could’ve happened if he didn’t act so fast.”

You smiled a little at that, at how right Cregan was in leaving the direwolf for you. He was meant to be company, a protector second - but tonight he proved to be as good, as loyal as any of your guards. He proved to be the real sigil of House Stark - just as Cregan told you he was.

You reached the door of your new room, and as your hand lifted off Striker’s back you noticed it chill with the cold night air. Turning your palm over, you saw red - and Striker’s nose made home in your fingers, licking away every drop as if it wasn’t ever there to begin with.

A week later, Cregan returned.

You had been in a foul mood for the past three days, since the maester had put you on strict bed rest because of the babe. Therefore you had been deemed unfit to greet your husband at the gate as he finally came home. In your defense, it definitely seemed like a good reason to be sour.

So you waited, sat on a chaise, with Striker’s head in your lap pressed to your stomach.

You could hear a commotion outsider, which only made your face scrunch in annoyance - not just at missing out but also at the pity looked you knew your handmaiden would be giving you. She offered to go fetch Cregan, and you nodded her leave with a wave of your hand.

“He will be here soon.” you said, cradling Striker’s muzzle in your palms.

“Indeed he will.” Cregan said.

“Oh, Lord Stark!” your handmaid said, startled. Your head turned, and you saw him standing in the doorway.

“Cregan!” you said, grin covering your face - and even after such a long time away, Striker seemed to recognize him, for he didn’t growl, and his tail started thumping against the rug.

“My love,” he said, shedding his great sword carelessly, and sunk to the floor beside where you sat. You heard your handmaid mumble a goodbye before stepping out and closing the door behind you. “Are you alright?”

“I couldn’t be better now.” you replied, feeling tears welling in your eyes as you took in your husband's face for the first time in months. He looked tired, older, but as you took his face in your hands his cheeks felt exactly the same as they were when he left. “I missed you so much.”

“I heard about what happened the other night. I -” he said, mouth hanging open in what could’ve been shock, in his eyes there could’ve been anger. Vengeance would do nothing now, the man was dead, he bled out before anyone could decide to give him mercy - undeserved or otherwise. But as Cregan leant forward to hold you into his arms, his warmth felt like nothing else except fear. “I can’t believe I could’ve lost you.”

“You didn’t.” you said, taking an arm away from being wrapped around his shoulders to pull his face away from your chest. “You provided the means for me to stay safe long before you left. Striker was better than any guard. He was fearless when I was frozen. I owe him my life, all because of you.”

Cregan’s face turned soft, and he smiled at you. He leant forward and kissed you. For the first time in too long, his lips move against yours. You felt his jaw move beneath your palm as his fingers grazed your neck and held onto your hip. When he pulled away, he kept your head cradled close to his.

“I love you.” he said.

“I love you too.” you replied, and he smiled, pressing another kiss to your lips, then your cheek.

“Now tell me all about how my little girl is growing.”

#cregan stark x female reader #cregan stark x reader #cregan x reader #hotd x reader #hotd x you

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allpiesforourown · 1 month ago

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I think the last anon meant if Shen Yuan transmigrated to become literally the Endless Abyss not a resident of it. But literally the Endless Abyss itself. Which is actually an interesting thought. To be transmigrated into the land. Into a concept. Into a realm between realms. Into the very thing that brought Luo Binghe the most pain. Not just the person who pushed him there, but the place itself.

Also, I do think Luo Binghe would still fall in love with him. I think that after every hard battle and near death Binghe suffered in the Endless Abyss, Shen Yuan’d make sure that Binghe had some magical plant or safe place to rest. He’d argue with the system that Binghe’s the protagonist, therefore it only makes sense that these things would happen to him, it’s not ooc. I think Binghe would keep noticing how this only happens to him and not the other creatures in the Endless Abyss. I think Binghe would figure out that the Endless Abyss had a spirit to it—a consciousness—like a dryad or a land spirit. And that that spirit was on his side and helping him. I think that Binghe would try to figure out a way to get Shen Yuan to have a physical form like a dryad or other nature spirit could have. I think that Binghe is never going to want to leave the Endless Abyss where he is held and surrounded by his love. I think Shen Yuan would be freaking out trying to figure out why Binghe wasn’t trying to leave. I think he’d lead Binghe to where Xin Mo is and tell him how to use it. I think Binghe would be terrified to use it because “What do you mean it cuts a whole through space?! Does that mean it will cut you?!?! I can’t do that!!” And then destroy Xin Mo so no one will ever cut Shen Yuan with it.

I also think that he reached out with his dream powers to try to connect with Shen Yuan’s consciousness and that’s when he became very sure of it all. I think that they went on dream dates (as Binghe would call them. Shen Yuan would just call it hanging with the protagonist and teaching him important things) before Shen Yuan got a physical form.

Oh my god that would be so cute... imagine binghe finding some ancient demonic tree but its willowy branches don't attack him? They just... run across his head like they're stroking his hair? Provide him with a safe place to rest...

Binghe would be so normal about falling in love with the abyss. He's INSIDE his lover... he'd want to treturn to Shen Qingqiu if only to say "thank you for helping me meet my a-yuan" and grin at his shizuns horrified face.

#svsss #shen yuan #luo binghe #bingqiu

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deebris · 8 months ago

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The Mysterious Visitor 1

Batfamily x batsis (platonic!)

Synopsis: On a cold, snowy dawn, a naive young girl knocks on the door of Wayne Manor in search of her brother, whom she hasn't seen in a long time.

Warnings: The reader is 13 years old and is Damian's twin sister; the tone of the story is somewhat sad.

Word count: 2.1k

Note: I felt the need to emphasize that Talia is very attached to the reader and kept her hidden from Bruce. Although it's obvious that the reader is their biological daughter, I still haven't specified her physical characteristics.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

It was late at night when the doorbell of Wayne Manor rang. Much to Alfred’s dismay, he seemed to be the only one awakened by the sound, as he didn't hear anyone else getting up to answer the door. Whoever was waiting outside seemed patient, or perhaps shy, since it took a good two minutes for the bell to ring again. A single chime, just like the first time.

It was snowing now; no one would be crazy enough to show up in the middle of the night in this cold unless it was something important. Because of this, Alfred hurried to slip on his slippers, moving as quickly as he could to the entrance, but still cautiously peering through the peephole to see who the visitor was.

All he could see was the top of the head of someone very short, with a few strands of hair standing up, covered in snowflakes.

“Who is it, Alfred?” The sudden question from behind didn’t scare him, but it did surprise him. Dick had been awakened by the sharp sound of the doorbell the second time it rang and came down quickly to check.

“I don’t know yet, Master Dick,” the butler replied, intrigued, glancing quickly at the boy to see him rubbing sleep from his eyes. Alfred noticed how he stepped forward, obviously cautious about who might be on the other side. “I can handle this, sir,” he stopped him while turning the knob and opening the door without giving him a chance to protest.

Alfred tightened his robe as he felt the cold air rush in, ruffling the white hairs on his head and making the hairs on his arm stand up. He looked in astonishment at the young girl standing before him, clearly suffering from the outside temperature. Her lips were trembling and chapped, with a trace of dried blood coming from one of the cracks. Her rapid breathing also did not go unnoticed, forming a cloud with each exhale.

“Can I help you, miss?” he asked with furrowed brows, feeling pity for her condition. Perhaps she was just a street child seeking shelter; you didn’t seem dangerous in any way.

“I-is this the W-Wayne Manor?” The question came out stuttered, and your eyes had a confused expression. He wasted no more time and extended his arm to pull you inside. It didn’t seem right to leave you out there.

“Come in, come in. Don’t stay out there, it’s not healthy.” He had that concerned, almost paternal tone, and you didn’t refuse his gesture. You grabbed the old man in a hug to keep safe from the cold, grateful he didn’t push you away. In fact, he pulled you closer, placing both hands around you and guiding you to the largest couch in the room.

“It’s just a girl,” he announced to Dick, who had been trying to peek at your figure since the door had opened.

“And who is she?” Dick moved closer, sitting on the couch facing the one where you and Alfred were seated and embraced. You didn’t seem to want to leave Alfred’s side anytime soon, appreciating the warmth he provided, clutching him firmly.

“What is your name, dear?” You heard the old man’s question, but it took you a while to respond. Alfred didn’t mind being ignored, or at least he thought he would be, already averting his eyes from you until your fragile voice was heard.

“Y/n,” you pronounced your name simply, so quietly it could only be understood due to the common silence of the early morning.

“What were you doing out there? Where are your parents, young lady?” Alfred pressed on with more questions, rubbing one of his hands on your back to bring comfort.

Now that he could look at you more attentively, he saw how well-dressed you were. And just by feeling the fabric of your coat, he knew it was an expensive garment. Your knowledge of Wayne Manor also didn’t escape him. It didn’t seem like something important to note in this situation, but you certainly weren’t an abandoned child; you were probably lost and knew them somehow.

His question seemed to upset you, as you turned your face to hide it, avoiding giving an answer. He noticed your reaction and decided to change the subject: “Let’s take off this coat and get a blanket. What do you think?” He moved you away, already pulling the sleeves of the garment off your arms, and you didn’t resist. The coat was damp from the snow and definitely no longer served to keep you warm.

“She’s going to get hypothermia if she stays like this,” Dick said hurriedly as he went to get a blanket, finding a thick enough one on one of the armchairs. Someone must have left it there before going to bed.

“I will light the fireplace,” you heard the old man say as he got up from the couch and picked up some sort of stick, probably a large lighter, to start the fire.

You opened your mouth to try to thank him, but stopped yourself, finally feeling shy upon realizing you were in strangers’ home. You felt a large, soft blanket wrap around you, turning your eyes to see the tall boy crouched in front of you, draping it over your shoulders.

“In a few minutes, you’ll feel better.” His voice sounded genuinely concerned, and you felt guilty for disturbing their night. You regretted disobeying your mother; you were supposed to be home now.

Dick saw your lost look, wondering who you were. Your expression was distant, and he thought you were lost in thought, until he felt your hand grab his wrist, preventing him from getting up. Your touch was gentle, yet cold, and now your eyes were focused on his.

“Does Damian live here?” you asked hopefully.

“Damian?” This caught him off guard. He was confused, processing for a few seconds what he had heard. From his confused tone, you felt your hopes fading, thinking he had no idea who you were talking about, but his next words encouraged you a little more: “How do you know him?”

You hesitated. At first, you weren’t sure if they were trustworthy, and your mother always said to be careful with whom you spoke. Growing up within the League of Assassins made you aware of how evil some people could be, and having grown up under Talia’s extremely protective arm, who treated you like an untouchable jewel, you were limited to conversations with few people, developing an abnormal fear of strangers. But bad people wouldn’t have taken you in as they did, would they?

“We’re siblings. Is he here?” Your confession didn’t carry the same weight for you as it did for the two men in the room. Alfred heard well, and like Dick, widened his eyes. Neither of them remembered Damian ever mentioning he had a sister. If you were truly an al Ghul, where was Talia? That woman might have had the blood of a viper, but she didn’t seem like the type to let her daughter wander alone at night.

“You said… He’s your brother?” Although Dick’s question was directed at you, he looked at Alfred, who returned an intrigued frown.

“Yes.” Your voice sounded simple to him, still not noticing the tension in the room.

“Master Dick,” Alfred said his name as a cue to follow him, walking away from the couch, and the boy quickly stood up. You found it strange and turned your neck to see them going to talk in the corner of the room in whispers, watching them with curiosity.

“I think it would be wise to inform Master Bruce.” The butler sighed, trying to speak as softly as possible, knowing you were watching them. “If she is Ra's al Ghul’s granddaughter, it’s convenient to take her home as soon as possible and avoid any unnecessary conflict with the League of Assassins.”

“You think she ran away from home?” Dick asked, turning to see you, who now was no longer watching them but had your gaze down, playing with your hands.

“I suppose so,” Alfred said punctually, moving away and walking to the stairs, climbing them with his usual formal posture. “I’ll wake him up. Stay here.” He seemed calm, but inside he was worried.

“Right…” Dick murmured to himself while taking slow steps back to the couch. He analyzed your face for a few seconds before sitting hesitantly beside you. You were almost disappearing inside that blanket, wrapped up like a cocoon, and he found it a bit amusing. All he could see was your head and hands.

You didn’t bother to say anything, nor did he. Instead, he clasped his hands together and paid attention to anything else, trying to hold back the urge to ask questions but couldn’t help himself: “So, you’re Talia’s daughter?”

“You know my mother?” You raised your gaze, and your tone was excited by the possibility.

“Not personally.” He picked at his nails before deciding to keep the conversation going, as the silence was becoming too uncomfortable: “My name is Dick, by the way. But you probably know that.”

“The old man is your grandfather?” For the first time, you referred to Alfred as “the old man” out loud, which made him smile amusedly. Dick found it funny how the nickname sounded innocent, imagining how the man would react knowing someone had referred to him like that.

“It's like he was. He's family.”

“Is Dami your family now?” You asked, trembling with the answer. It wasn’t something to be proud of, but you couldn’t help feeling jealous, and you hated it. It was an excruciating feeling, mixing sadness, anger, and other confusing emotions.

Dick frowned at your question. You seemed disappointed with the idea and it didn’t escape his notice how you were completely unaware of Damian’s current life. It’s been more than two years since he came to live here, enough time for Dick to see him as he always saw his other brothers and participate in patrols as an equal.

“He’s my brother too,” he tried to sound compassionate, and suddenly the silence returned, as you didn’t want to talk anymore and he didn’t know what to say. A lump formed in your throat and your heart felt heavy with each new beat. “How old are you?” He tried again, this time changing the subject.

“Twelve,” you answered immediately, but then shook your head and corrected yourself: “Thirteen.”

“Twelve?” Dick repeated the first answer to try to confirm, letting out a muffled laugh at your strange confusion.

“It’s thirteen.”

That was impossible. Damian was thirteen.

“I still haven’t gotten used to the new age. My birthday was on Monday.”

Damian’s birthday was on Monday.

Dick swallowed hard. He lost his voice for a few seconds, trying to piece things together in his head. He felt his heart race with nerves, doubting if he had been hearing voices all along.

“Y/n, right?” He said your name, seeing you nod positively. “Are you and Damian by any chance… twins?”

You heard him well, but couldn’t help feeling your heart ache with sorrow. He had no idea who you were, even after you knew Damian saw him as a brother. The realization that Damian hadn’t even mentioned you was painful, and as you felt the tears start to roll down your cheek, you quickly wiped them away.

“Hey, hey. Why are you crying?” He moved closer, brushing your hair back with his fingers. You seemed to be the type to answer yes or no questions with gestures, as you nodded positively to him once again.

“Twins…” Dick whispered to no one, trying to come out of shock.

“Y/n,” he called your name hoping you would pay attention, but you continued trying to dry the unstoppable tears. “Y/n,” he called for the second time, and you finally looked at him again.

Now, analyzing your face after what he had just discovered, he finally noticed how much your features resembled Bruce’s. It was like he had been blind and now could finally see.

“Does the name Bruce Wayne mean anything to you?”

“He’s the owner of this house,” you said nonchalantly, as if that was all that mattered and you needed to know.

His next breath came out shaky, completely incredulous. ‘Damn Talia,’ he cursed mentally. This night would be long and, undoubtedly, very complicated.

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creamecafe · 27 days ago

Note

Heyyy there I saw your post about allowing a request for various squid game characters. Can I request Hwang In-ho/front man?

Partner! Reader x Hwang In-ho/Front man

Like s/o doesn't know anything about the games and In-ho just have a whole nother identity just for her. She knows that In-ho goes on a business trip for 7 days and then comes back like nothing happens. And just before In-ho leaves for the "business trip" they have fluff moments and In-ho tries his best to keep her out of his other life

🫶🫶🫶

Secrets I have held in my heart

Summary: What the requests says

Pairing: Hwang In-Ho x GN!Reader

Warnings: none just fluff and maybe feelings of guilt, bathing together but it's NOT smut

Author's Note: Thank you so much for requesting this! I hope you enjoy it! I also tried making my own dividers. It's not the best, but if I make one that's decent I'll post them for people to use

Want a request for a Squid Game character like this one? Check out my latest post, read my request guidelines and send a request!

Read on Wattpad & AO3 here

Hwang In-Ho was an interesting man. But he was yours. Your friends and family say they find him to be scary or something off about him. But you can't see him anything else than what he is, a caring husband who makes sure to provide well for you.

He tells you that his job is working at a sales company of always testing new products for people and surveying so you really thought nothing of it. Majority of the time he would go on business trips for at least a week. He never told you where he was going but you never wanted to bother him so much.

It was three days before he left and he always made sure to spend all his time with you. Taking you out to eat at your favorite place, watching your favorite movies, cooking and taking naps together.

Doing these things with you made him happy, but he also felt bad about lying about his work to you. He knew that your perspective and love would change because of that.

He didn't want to lose you because of that. But he also couldn't lose his job.

Today was the last day he would be spending time with you and he wants to make the most of it. You woke up with breakfast in bed. Your favorite.

"Don't worry about work sweetheart, I called in sick for you."

You smiled knowing you were really going to spend the day with him together

After you finish your breakfast, you two would take a warm bath together. Nothing sexual, just you two holding each other and making small talk.

Then it would be you guys just watching TV and cuddling with each other.

He really loves you so much. It was hard keeping his double life from you. But all that mattered was that you were safe and anything that you knew could put you in danger.

A few hours have passed and he ordered take out on your favorite restaurant. There it was again, just talking and him saying he's going to miss you

Before you knew it, it was time for you both to go to sleep. You were sad knowing that the next morning he would be gone.

Both of you guys were wrapped up in each other, cuddling and innocence of you two sleeping together meant so much to him.

The next morning came and he had to get ready to leave. You helped him prepare the stuff he needed, suits, snacks, and a goodbye kiss.

"Promise you'll text me everyday to at least make sure you're alight?"

"I promise my darling."

Both of you smiled at this and kissed each other as he was heading to his taxi. He looked back at you and waved to you.

You waved back and soon the car drove off.

When he was in the car, he pulled out his phone with a text message asking if he was on his way. He responded and then took something out of the pocket from his jacket. It was a picture of you. It would at least be a reminder of everything he's doing for you to have the best life possible even if you didn't know.

It would be a few hours before he had to put his love aside for you and keep focus on the bigger picture.

#creamecafe #squid game #squid game season 2 #squid game s2 #no spoilers #hwang in ho #front man #player 001 #squid game x reader

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ifyoucandaniel · 27 days ago

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favorite fics of 2024/basically just batfam fic rec list

It's that time of year guys, here is my favorite fics of 2024 in no specific order (aka my master batman fic rec list bc that's all i read this year with some spider-man thrown in there lmao). most of these have been in my previous rec lists, but this is just like one big frankenstein’s monster of a fic rec with all of them in one place <3

starting off strong, anything @bluelotuswrites's hands have touched is pure gold. Red is the Color of Sinners placed post UTRH where after being hit by bruce's batarang and now mute, jason decides to leave gotham and go to hell’s kitchen for a fresh start, but he keeps running into daredevil both in and out of costume. this is possibly the best jason of all time i rotate him in my mind like a microwave all day

The Hellblazer's Apprentice is an all blades jason fic where instead of continuing his lost days world tour, he meets john constentine and decides to learn magic to piss of bruce. blue added some lore to jason’s character in this that to this day makes my brain vibrate with excitement and the dynamic between john and jason is just ?? so good. both of these fics haunt me, they follow me wherever i go, i love them. read everything she's written, trust me

going with the theme of my favorite authors i read this year, @cdelphiki wrote my favorite read of the year and possibly all time Life Happens a fic that hit me like a sucker punch where tim and damian are both sent to a different dimension where everyone they know are comic book characters. with no other choice, they have to start a new life in this world while they wait for rescue. words just dont do it justice, please please read this fic. it’s the most beautiful story on growing and life

their other fic Jason and the Three Terrors crosses my mind at least once a day if not three times. jason is still with the league when talia charges him with getting damian, his cousin mara, and his secret sister athanasia to bruce safely from ra's. the rest of the fic is jason going from "i cant wait to get rid of these kids" to "these are my kids, i need to provide for them and keep them safe and i would die for them" 100/10 jason's character development is some of my favorite in any fic.

The Time Before is another of my favorites where jason is sent back in time to when he was 9 and goes to bruce for help and realizes maybe his memories of bruce maybe aren't all accurate. just read everything cdelphiki has ever written, trust me <3

Split by @wolfsbanesparks i have never been hooked on a character i previously did not know much about faster than when i read this fic. Billy and shazam are forcefully separated into separate bodies by black adam and then they have to try to keep billy's identity secret somehow while working with the justice league to fix them. the end of this fic had me sending paragraphs and 5 minute voice notes to my friends, trying to explain why i was so absolutely distraught and obsessed.

also by wolfsbanesparks, From the Shadows is basically everything you could ever want from a billy batson joins the batfam fic. it's got plot, it's got identity shenanigans, it's got badass magical billy, what more could you possibly need! seriously idk what is up with everything wolfbanesparks writes, but the endings are always so fucking good, 100/10.

Something in the Static by @bonerot19 is one of my favorite jason series ever, i go back to it constantly and think about it all the time. this is a series where jason's mom doesn't die and his dad isn't in prison, instead he's 17 working nights at a convenience store when everything changes and suddenly batman won't leave him alone. this is my favorite jason & steph best friends fic ever and the way this fic is paced scratches an itch in my brain, the flow of the story is just perfect

Buy Back the Secrets by @vinelark is the only ship fic on here and it deserves a place of honor. every time i get an email that it's updated an angel gets it's wings and my friends all get texts in all caps. Timkon fic where kon still doesn’t know tim’s civilian identity, but tim keeps calling for superboy when he's in trouble which leads to kon meeting him as a civilian. the identity shenanigans are just so top tier, its a 5 + 1 fic so every chapter is just just a new world of fun tropes. the chapter with tim's fake uncle and jason is actually probably my favorite chapter of a fic ever its so dear to me. as far as i'm concerned, this fic is the only timkon ever <3

Honoring Promises by LananiA3O is the shortest fic on this list and is the most important jason & dick post UTRH fics i've ever read. this fic both scratched an itch and created an itch because i need 100 more chapters and for it to never end. set post UTRH when dick starts to rethink his opinion on a note jason left him and realizes it was jason reaching out and decides to find him and fix things. this goes up there with RITCOS in the post UTRH fics where jason decides to just fuck off and do his own thing, i love them

Adopting a New Plan by A_Silly_Gander is yet another fic where jason winds up with an adoption problem when he first comes back to gotham. however, my favorite part of this whole fic is how the author writes jason making mistakes and being flawed and how those mistakes affect him. absolutely 10/10 character development and jason rejoining the batfam + damian and jaosn meeting in the LOA tag is just a mixture of all my favorite things, i love this fic so much

A Collision of Masks by MOVAZ is my favorite dick grayson fic ever, its set in a young justice AU where batman never joined the JL and YJ never met dick, so when the YJ team is sent to investigate a new vigilante, nightwing, identity shenanigans ensue. this is seriously such a fun fic, i loved all the crossover between dick's many identities and the YJ team

Cards on the Table by @wesslan is just!!! so fun oh my god. the chapter titles are to this day my favorite things ever they enhance the experience. it’s about tim being a scam fortune teller who knows a lot more than he should about the upper class due to his nighttime stalking. he winds up meeting the batfam and giving some scarily accurate advice which leads to him being tied up in their business and lots of lying <3 it’s such a fun fic and i just love the vibes 100/10

Hand in Unloveable Hand (a chokehold) by @a-large-orange-cat is by far my favorite fucked up tim fic! while tim’s out taking pictures of batman and robin as a kid he gets kidnapped by black mask and raised to take over his crime empire. cue 50k of manipulation and angst, the ending is so satisfying and the sequel with jason always makes me :’) very good, this tim lives in my mind in a little house he and jason built

Dark Matter by @mysterycyclone because would it be a fic rec without the loml? i love this fic so much oh my god, it sent me back on my spiderman obsessed bullshit which in turn led me back down my marvel bs. post infinity war peter is dusted and wakes up in the DC universe with the ghosts of the dusted avengers following him. i love this fic so much, nothing compares to this peter in my mind. the dynamic between him and the batfam + the identity angst is just so well done

keeping up with the peter theme, The Teenage Vigilante's Guide to Saving New York (And Making Friends Along the Way) by candlesneedflame is such a good team red/mentor matt fic oh my god. where peter goes against tony’s wishes and starts hanging out with daredevil and his friends and maybe starts getting mentored by new york’s vigilantes. 10/10 i love peter interacting with the other vigilantes and also matt mentoring him

anyways, that’s all folks! 2024 was the year for the DC and marvel fics clearly and hopefully 2025 will be the year of me binding all of these finally and having them sitting pretty on my shelf <3

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keferon · 2 months ago

Note

I just saw the post about Jazz not taking care of himself and all that, and with the doodle provided on that, i for some reason, have the mental imagine of Prowl now just holding Jazz on one hand while the tiny human sleeps there, and he's just working on whatever it is that he needs to work on with one hand

Because he got scared and now does not want to let go until he's sure he's ok.

There is no context, i just saw Prowl holding tiny Jazz and now my brain itches for more of that i guess.

THO SPEAKING OF WHICH (please excuse the rambling), but like when Prowl first finds out about Jazz actually not being a mech and just this tiny soft squishy human, who, in tfp Ratchet's words, can go squish under their pedes like, now constantly panics about Jazz possibly being hurt

And under no circumstances allows him to walk on the floors in fear he might, in fact, go squish. So everytime he leaves his suit Prowl has him sit by on the tabls or straight out just carries him (bring out that meme of Finn having a pocket for Jake)

Idk, the amount of funny scenarios of Prowl having to learn about how to be careful around a human is endless and i love it, and dammit your au has been stuck in my head i can't stop looking at content for it, it's making me go insane!!

Oh and to hopefully finish my rambling off, but add huamn adrenaline to the mix. Jazz getting severally hurt, but the adrenaline keeps him kicking for a bit longer, like bleeding out and a broken arm but he pushes through as if it were nothing....until they are out of danger and the pain kicks in. Prowl is none the wiser to his partner's injuries until the mecha suit starts to tweak as Jazz starts to let out pained screams, or small gasps of pain depending how much hurt you want him to be in, and then he pops out the chest compartment to reveal how much actual damage he took.

Ok this was supposed be a small "haha Prowl holding a sleeping Jazz" and it turned in to a full on yap session about very different ideas, hope you dont mind ^^;;

Just really love your au man...

YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ACTUALLY PREDICTED THE THING I WAS PLANNING TO INCLUDE IN MY THREAD :D

Like. Y E AH. Think of it. Fuckinb imaginb. Jazz falling asleep right where he was standing and Prowl is like. Okay I need to find some safe place to put this tiny guy because I don’t want him to get squashed right?? But he doesn’t really have a lot of options so he ends up just sitting and reading something from his datapad with one hand. And holding Jazz in the other. And it works perfectly because Jazz is small enough to fit in Prowls palm.

ALSO. A L S O

I imagine Jazz has magnets in the gloves of his suit. So! Not only Prowl can carry him around but also Jazz can just stick himself to Prowls plates haha

Prowl: Where tf are you

Jazz, crawling on Prowls back: I’m Spider man

Another Cybertonians react to this the same way people do when they see a spider on someone’s shoulder btw~

#mecha pilot jazz au #maccadam

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writingwisterias · 21 days ago

Text

Ruined

Kidnapper!Leon Kennedy X AFAB!Reader Warnings: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, SMUT, 18+ONLY, Emotional Manipulation, Degradation kink, Kidnapping, Injuries, Isolation, Manipulation, Dub-Con, Rough Sex, Public Sex, Manhandling, Implied Abuse, Initial Carving, Blood Play, Unprotected Sex, Age-Gap Words: 5.9k Dedicated to @friedtofu4 for allowing me to ramble about this for days

Taglist: @rigorwhoring

You were pissing him off. You always did when you acted like that. His fingers twitched at his sides as he watched you beg beneath him. Another escape attempt. That just wouldn't do. Couldn't you see that he was just trying to help, to keep you safe from all the threats he had seen in the world? You were so perfect, always devoted to him. Always following every rule he had in place except for today? Yet now you are here sobbing at his feet in a ruined nightdress, an expensive one he treated you to after such good behaviour. What a waste. Of his time, his money. Your dumb brain clearly didn't understand.

Your tears were fat and heavy as they ran down your dirty cheeks. He wasn't proud of the way he manhandled you to the ground, sighing at the sight of your face dirtied from the mud as you fought him off. Leon hated seeing the cuts and scrapes that littered your arms, the specks of blood on your lips from where he had bit down on it too hard in a kiss he forced you to participate in. "I'm sorry Leon...please...forgive me" you spoke in choked breaths, your chest rattling with each intake.

You weren't sorry, you did it on purpose. He knew that. He wasn't stupid. You took him for granted, something you needed to be punished for. After all, he's only helping you, providing a life where you don't have to worry about anything but keeping your legs open when he is around. But you still ran away and tried hiding in that thorn bush. The blood on your skin was your own fault, you needed to understand that. "If you were sorry you wouldn't have done it. I'm trying to keep you safe" Leon said, his tall frame never faltering. His back is just as straight as when he shut the door. "I know...I'm sorry...please...I'll do anything. It was a mistake" you cried. Practically kissing his mud-coated boots. Your hands tugged at the hem of his jeans, holding onto them for dear life.

Leon lowered himself into a squat, his fingers tilting your chin in the air as he looked at you. Your bottom lip was jutted out, a pathetic look for you. Feigning Innocence. "I thought we grew out of this baby" he cooed. "You were behaving so well"

His presence was a false comfort, his tender touch was soon to turn sinister when he finally got you into the headspace he wanted. The easy pliable one that would just take whatever he gave you. Leon wasn't sure if he wanted to shove his cock inside your mouth. Maybe even shoving himself so far you couldn't breathe, only himself filling your senses. The thought of you on your knees made his cock twitch in his trousers. He would thrust deep inside of you, making sure you thought of nothing but his relentless thrusts. However, the thought of giving you endless creampies was also appealing. The options were limitless.

“Leon…I'm sorry” you sobbed again. Your hands are now gripping his knees. “You’re all dirty after that honey” he sighed. You nodded, breaking his eye contact to look at the state of you. You weren't the presentable thing he always liked, the little doll he wanted you to be. “Please forgive me, I didn't mean to run away”

It hurts him that you were lying. Of course, you meant to, you didn't hide your dislike for him very well. He had noticed the bathroom window suddenly opening wider and wider with each shower you took. He trusted you, trusted that you would change your behavior; to not run into the woods like you did today, but you didn't. He sighed, his knees clicking as he rose above you again. You watched him, never breaking eye contact. Leon held out his hand, your own sliding in it fingers brushing his wrist as you used it to help him stand up. “Let's get you cleaned up” Leon spoke as he dragged you away towards the bathroom. The only room you ever had privacy in, not that you would anymore. The privilege was now to be taken away, the window cracked open as a reminder of your escape. Of how close you actually were.

Leon had to admit it was smart, he never noticed until one night as he pissed he felt the cold breeze. The window just above the toilet in front of him was open and the cause of the breeze. It wasn't enough for him to jump into action, he waited; baiting you into actually going through with it. It's like you forgot what he used to do for a living, the job that trained him to have the same set of skills that have kidnapped you and kept you hidden for so long.

Leon turned the shower on – the steam combating against the winter chill. His hands were gentle as they stripped you, the dirty fabric pooling on the floor around your ankles. “Look at how messy you are” he sighed as he led you into the stream. Your knees ache as you bend them to get into the tub, the small scabs breaking allowing the blood to flow again. Leon tutted at the sight of you, at how desperate you were to leave that you didn't even care about your delicate skin. The white tub was soon filled with a brownish red. You stayed silent, eyes flicking towards the door, window and Leon. He watched your brain tick as your thoughts began to outweigh the risks. Calculate an escape plan or think if it was worth it with him in the room. “Aren't you tired of fighting? Don't I do enough for you?” Leon sighed.

You watched his features, his eyebrows curved upwards showing concern and sadness. Whether those were genuine feelings you didn't know. The occasional up turns of his mouth, a smirk waiting to be revealed, told you otherwise. You constantly fell for his tricks and that's what made you so mad. So desperate to run away. You hated how he loved you unconditionally no matter how much you kicked and screamed or plotted against him. His love and loyalty never wavered. You never understood why he wanted you to be so special, to feel this unwavering love he had for you. It hurts your brain late at night as you think about it, looking at the thin netting blowing from the tiny gap he allowed in the window. His arm draped over you, fingers grasping at your waist tightly. Sometimes you awoke to bruising.

You were tired of fighting but it felt like it was just too easy to give in. Accept this as your new life, even if you didn't ask for it or work for it like you were raised to. A retirement fund sitting in your bank account that you no longer have access to. “Aren't you? Tired of fighting?” Leon repeated his question. His hand grasping your chin to bring your attention onto him. You wanted to answer, if you said yes; you would get everything you ever wanted without having to worry about the outside world. Maybe he would even let you wander the woods if you built enough trust. You could see the stream from the living room, maybe you would be able to touch it freely. Yet, if you said no, you would be here anyway. Your restrictions are tighter, rules stricter. A structured life inside the wooden walls. The air escaped your chest as you nodded, looking at the open window once before opening your mouth to finally speak the words. “I am tired of fighting”

Leon’s grin grew. His laughter filled the room only to be silenced as he kissed you. Guilt flooded your system quickly, the shower didn't wash it away as you thought about everyone outside of these woods. All the people that loved you traded for a life of luxury and freedom. A life provided by your kidnapper. “I'm proud of you baby. You made the right choice” he spoke, his hair dampening as leaned into the stream to kiss you again. You enjoyed the taste of Leon, the feel of him as he thrust into you. You knew you wouldn't regret your choice to be with him forever, an unofficial marriage. But your family and friends cannot be a part of your life. You would soon become an unsolved mystery to them, their life filling with grief and mourning you whilst you lived perfectly fine.

Leon fed you lies, and told you they didn't love you. That if they did they would have found you, but that one last group of brain cells that you clung into told you otherwise. Maybe one day you see them again, and beg for forgiveness for all the harm you caused them by agreeing to him. By living this life. You were sure an apology wouldn't fix anything, burning that bridge to them was a death sentence to that life. The final claim snipped away with the hand that now dragged you out of that shower. The ones that wrapped you in the fluffiest towel and led you into the bedroom. “Oh baby you are going to be so happy” Leon chatted mostly to himself as he led you. His words fill the emptiness of the cabin, echoing through the long dark corridors. “I'm sure I will be,” you spoke quietly. Your voice was strong, not letting your emotions leak out into the words you spoke. Never allow the turmoil inside you to become visible to him.

Leon patted you dry and combed your hair with utmost care. Then he tended to the scraps, cotton pads with witch hazel, some coated in disinfectant. His hands were not gentle when he touched them, fingers pressing into the bruises watching your reactions as they flashed across your features. “Hurts doesn't it? This is what it felt like when I went to check on you and you weren't there. Only to find your footprints leading away” Leon spoke, looking up at you through your brows. “I didn't…mean to hurt you” you spoke bluntly, you even cringed after the lie left your lips. His head snapped up, eyebrows raised as he looked at you. “You expect me to believe that?” Leon chuckled, his hand pressing down on your knees earning another hiss. “You think I'm a fool, do you?”

Your wet hat stuck to your face as you shook your head. “You hurt me too,” you said. Your voice was timid as you sank into yourself. “What I do. Is nothing compared to what I've seen other people do” he stated, his words were clipped. “I have only protected you. I will always protect you”

Leon lowered his head again, tending to your wounds once again. You nodded your head, words unable to form in fear he would just dispute them. You could feel his love, his claim over you in every word he spoke and yet you still defiled him, denied him of your own.

“I want to be able to go outside…to see the stream” you whispered after a little while, breaking the silence. Leon's head shot up again scanning your face for any form of lie, a hidden meaning underlying your words. “Maybe I could – I could earn back your trust?” You spoke again. You cringed at his sigh and flinched at his movements to stand. Leon looked down on you, dominating you. Yet instead of talking to you or offering you an ultimatum to your request he just held out his hand. “Come on...before I change my mind”

“I'm naked”

“No one will see…there's no one for miles”

He had told you this before, the words never settled easily in your stomach each time you heard them. You followed him out the door, goosebumps rising on your skin as it deflected the chill. The mud was cold as your bare feet walked alongside his boots. The footprints that left a trail back to the house symbolise how much bigger he was than you. Leon’s hand tightened around yours the closer to the stream you got, almost like he was afraid you would slip away. Like you would actually risk running through the woods stark naked with the impending promise of night.

Leon watched you carefully as you approached the running water, as you crouched to touch the ribbons of the current as it went through your fingers. Despite the speed it seemed peaceful, you wonder if it ran into a peaceful lake with fish and other animals. He was leaning against a tree, lingering in your eyeline like a warning. A dangerous predator in the shadows. You contemplated it, accidentally losing your balance and falling into the cold water. Hypothermia or shock would eventually take before he could. At least it would be by your choice, something you chose to happen. Then again, staying here willingly was also your choice. His promise of protection is too good to refuse in this world. His words will always manipulate you, twist your world to just be this woodland.

To Leon in this moment you looked like an innocent deer, one so completely unaware of the dangers that lurked around you. Your attention solely on the river running through your fingers was just another reason why you needed him. You didn’t hear his footsteps as he crept behind you; attention never faltering when he accidentally stepped on the twig and snapped it. No, you were a useless deer, just a little fawn unaware of the dangers that surrounded you. This is why he was here, to show and protect you from these dangers.

You didn’t notice him until he grabbed your wrists. Your body jolted against his as he pressed himself against you; his breath ghosting the shell of his ear. “Leon! I wasn’t doing anything…I haven’t done anything wrong” You gasped as he finally turned you to face him. Your expression is priceless as his eyes gloss over your face. “Oh baby, you didn’t even notice I moved. How did you even manage before me?” He chuckled darkly. It was only when he pressed closer to you that you noticed his belt was already undone, his body pressing you to fall back onto the ground. Your instincts wanted you to fight back, to kick and scream like you did the first time but you were tired and you promised not to fight anymore.

His hands pressed you into the mud, smirking to himself as your just clean skin was dirty once again. Your fingers sank into the mud as he trapped your hands underneath his own. “Come on. I let you outside. Now open up, I didn’t have to after the stunt you pulled today” Leon groaned as he tried to pry your legs open to be able to sink himself into you. He wanted you to adore him, to worship him as he provides everything for you. To become some mindless hole for him, a little treat. You were already bare for him, for anyone. Perhaps he should leave a reminder and have his load dripping out of you for the rest of the day as the mud dries on your skin. Something for you to be reminded of who you belong to now. You listened to his command, legs spreading to make room for his form. Leon's skin never touched the ground nor was it ever exposed to the cold. His cock nudged the entrance of your pussy, sighing as he finally inches it in. Without any preparation, his stretch hurt, and whimpers began to leave your lips. Your frame squirmed in the dirt.

He didn't care though, he just wanted you. He could feel the wet ground eating into his trousers. Only imagine how cold you must feel currently, your naked form so close to the freezing river. Your hands are trapped above your head elongating your frame. Your breasts bounced with every thrust he made “Fucking hell, look at you” Leon moaned in your ear. Your pain turned into pleasure, overstimulation creeping in as he continued his assaulting thrusts. Your nipples were sore and sensitive, the air making them harden and peak to extreme lengths. You forced yourself to look at him, watch his grin grow wider or his eyes darken as he gazed upon you. The twigs and mud scraped against your back and the squelches of your movements muted the ones that filtered from where he entered. It shamed you how turned on you were, how attracted you were to this man. Someone you should hate, fight, or do anything but accept his desire to own you. Yet, here you are underneath him begging for more.

“That's it, baby, cum around my cock…warm it up for me please it's cold out here. Didn't you know”

Of course you knew, it was Leon's attempt at a teasing joke. Your skin was blotchy red, freezing to the touch. Your hands were ice cold, he made sure they never touched anything but his wrists. Your orgasm was impending quicker than you wanted to, his touch was possessive - greedy even. He was always anything but kind taking everything he could from you without giving anything back. The only reason why you reached that high each time was because he felt so good. His veins always dragged along your walls perfectly, hitting that spongy spot inside you that made your toes curl. His cock curved in such a way you could feel every single movement he made. He never touched your clit, only sucked on your breasts if he felt like it. Yet you still simply came from just his cock…and boy did it make Leon feel like a god.

He felt your walls tighten, sucking him in as they refused to let him go. His balls tightened, groans leaving his lips and echoed throughout the vast woodland. You felt him flood you with warmth as his load exploded inside of you. His final thrusts caused your orgasm to flood through you a cocktail of the two of you spilling out into the mud. Leon didn’t stay inside of you long, his warmth was taken away quickly as he stood back up. Tucking himself back in his trousers to glance down at you. He was never one to shy away from a dominant display. His point was proven as you had lost your sense of surrounding to the stream, any dangers that lurked could have easily gotten you. He was one of them and he did.

Leon had the courtesy to hold out his hand for you, watching as you shivered as you attempted to stand. “Thank you” You muttered to him, your head bowed as you avoided eye contact. Your hand tightened around his savouring the warmth that he gave off through his palm. Part of you wanted to lean in for a hug, to accept that he was the only one who was going to be able to give you what you needed. He could see your inner fighting, the refusal to accept that he was the only one for you, despite your claims of being tired of fighting. Leon decided for you as he pulled you into his embrace. His body folded around you, shielding you from the world for just a moment. Your shoulders shook as you finally gave in, your once stiff form now melted into his embrace. Your final need to fight is released from your body. This was your life now, this is what you were reduced to.

You watched from the doorway as he lit up the fireplace. Your arms were wrapped around yourself picking at the dried dirt that was still on your skin. His seed dripping down your thighs. Leon’s eyes flickered over to you as he occasionally gazed upon your form. Part of him felt bad that you were so cold, tempted to wrap you up in the warmest blanket he could find and let you read a book until night fell. But you ran away today, he must not forget that. “Can I shower?” You asked him, your voice was barely above a whisper he almost missed it. He turned to you fully, still in front of the fire. “If I treat you nicely again you aren’t going to try and escape are you?” He asked, his question was blunt straight to the point. Guilt flooded your system as you remembered the trust he had placed in you. One that you broke.

“Please, I know I broke your trust today…just the mud… it's irritating” You admitted. You watched as he turned to the fire to think; watching the flames lick at the wooden logs turning them into embers. The simmer of a fire was always the hottest part, the embers that lingered underneath the ash. You had yet to see this anger from Leon, the heat that made him so protective over you or the anger that simmered causing him to do hurtful things to you. You had never pushed him that far and you weren’t sure you wanted to. “Since you asked so nicely.” He nodded finally, turning again just in time to see your eyes light up. “But I have to be in the room”

Despite his add-on to your request, the light never faded from your eyes as he continued to look at them. Perhaps you have had a change of heart. You waited for him to walk to the bathroom first, your smaller frame following his. The steam from earlier still lingered on the bathroom mirror. You looked at your reflection, the condensation dripping down your features as if you were crying. Leon turned the shower on his hand in the stream as he waited for it to heat up. Part of him wanted to leave it cold and come up with some bullshit excuse that you wanted to go outside again after the last shower. But your knees had turned purple, he could see nail tracks where you scratched against the flaking mud on your skin.

The tub was again filled with brown as you watched it swirl down the drain. You closed your eyes and faced the stream allowing the water to methodically fall over your features. A sense of peace washed over the room, you could feel his eyes on you as his thoughts were loud but it felt right almost. Maybe you were just tricking yourself to make the situation more bearable. Leon however was watching his cum that dripped down your legs get washed away, his claim on you was never permanent. He didn’t want children, no he was too old for that now. Besides that would involve too much medical interference; outsiders would have to get involved if something went wrong. It was too risky, too many people for you to say what happened to you if they pried too hard.

His mind swirled with ways he could mark you as his, a permanent solution. Something you would look at and never forget your place. It wasn’t until you had left the shower and wrapped yourself in another towel whilst waiting patiently to follow him that he got the idea. He walked you to the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bedding as he watched you dry yourself off. It was unnerving you that he hadn’t said anything for a while. The corners of his mouth twitched upright occasionally as he sat there thinking about something. “A penny for your thoughts?” You asked shly. He blinked at your question. It was rare you initiated any form of conversation so it took him by surprise. “I have an idea…to make sure everyone knows you are mine”

“You said no one will see me? Who are you proving it to?”

You got him there he supposed, it was a valid reason not to do what he was planning. Yet, it wasn’t enough to stop him; he could already feel his cock stirring awake. He looked at you again before a large sigh left his lips. “I want to mark you as mine, permanently”

His words confused you as you were unable to follow along with him. Silence filled the room again as you both waited for someone to speak first. He almost seemed like he was giving you space to object, offer an opinion to the situation or even a suggestion to his wishes. You however knew better than that by now, he didn’t care what you wanted, he was going to do it anyway. He just likes to make you feel in control. You nodded your head, wordlessly agreeing to whatever wicked plan he had formed in his head.

Leon was giddy as he left the room, his attitude was suddenly diminished leaving behind a more lighthearted side to him. You wish he showed this side more often, maybe it would have made the past few months more bearable. You could have learned to love him instead of resent him but he didn't make it easy, he never did. Leon returned to the room holding a blade, the metal shone in the dim lighting. “This blade has been with me for years. It was given to me by someone…someone that is no longer with us” Leon began to explain. He went to hold out but hesitated, he watched your behaviour; scanning for any signs of disobedience as if you were really going to risk stabbing him. “I’m sorry for your loss” you whispered. His eyes remained on you, the change in your behaviour was weird and off-putting; he was used to the constant fighting and arguing. He could see the effects it had on your soul and body, your face now dull and diminished of any light and joy.

Leon had never told you about his past before, how he ended up the way he has. Maybe if he did you would have felt more comfortable as if you knew him on a deeper level. You possibly would have been able to connect with him better and understand why he did what he did. Your now curious nature was making him regret his choices, his approach to keeping you here. It was conflicting with him. “Come here” Leon commanded as he sat back on the bed. The knife still gripped in one hand, his other outstretched to you. You settled in between his legs, his fingers toying with the bottom of your towel, the soft fabric getting caught in his calloused fingers. He brought the black knife to your collarbone, teasing the tip of the knife against your clean skin. “What are you going to do?”

He sighed at the weight of your hands on his shoulders, the action feeling strangely domestic. His eyes flickered at the shadows on the walls, the sight depicting a couple in love…maybe the two of you would develop to that stage. Just like he wanted. You hissed as he pressed the tip of the knife into the skin. A droplet of your blood ran down your chest and began to stain the towel. “Leon…that hurts” you whimpered as he continued to drag the knife down your chest. He didn't respond, only observing his work as he continued to move the knife. His kind nature was replaced as quickly as it appeared.

He smiled when he was finished, ignoring the small strips of blood. He had marked you. His initials are now embedded into your chest. “Leon why…” you whimpered looking down at your ruined skin. The air exposed to the wound made it sting, you couldn't even forget about it. It would be visible in anything you wore when you showered or looked in the mirror. Leon just looked at it with a smile. His fingers swiped away at the streams of blood. “You'll never forget now” he stated simply. “Never forget what?”

“That you belong to me”

His words swirled in your head creating a fuzzy side to them. They were meant to comfort you, that's what he intended. To protect you to keep you safe but it felt wrong, to be kept here in these woods. With nothing to do but look pretty for him, you had no hobbies, no life outside this house now. “You always belonged to me, from the moment I brought you here you were mine” Leon added, his words unnerving you further. You watch his eyebrows pinch together, his expression turning darker. “you are my gift for all my service, all my pain”

His eyes met yours again, scanning your features for a reaction to his confession.” you make it all worthwhile”

If only you knew who he was deep down, you might have been able to sympathise with him. Soothe him from his apparent pain like a normal partner would have. If he was hurt in his life why would he repeat the cycle, why would he ruin yours the way he was ruined? Take away your freedom, and your choices. Leon watched your face contort as the problems circled in your brain, he waited for you to respond. To shower him in love, that's how it worked, wasn't it? He opened up and you accepted him? His breath hitched as you initiated another form of contact, your weight landed on his thigh as you sat on his lap leaning back into him. Leon's arms timidly wrapped around yours almost like he was afraid to scare you. To end this moment too soon. “What happened to you?” you asked. You felt him tense, his eyes falling back towards the wound he made on your chest. “I was forced to become a government agent after I survived an event no one should have lived through. I've been a pawn my whole life, experiencing nightmares one after the other.”

You nodded at his explanation, his words were short and clipped. You took that as your sign not to pry anymore, to accept the information he gave you in the doses he allowed it. After all, he's been more than kind since your escape this morning. Even if the wound was now a reminder of the last time you attempted to. “I'm sorry the world treated you like that, but I don't understand how I fit into it?” You asked. Leon sighed, his hand forcing your head to look at him. “You are my chance to finally keep something and someone safe. To provide a happy ending when all I have seen are bad ones. A happy ending for the both of us”

You understood where he was coming from, you were never opposed to the idea of living off the grid with someone you loved. But that was the difference with this situation, which Leon will never understand. You haven't optionally chosen to love him, to live this life. There will always be a part of you rebellious to him, demanding to be set free. You didn't object to his words, you didn't smile or frown. You just accepted them, accepted this as your new life. His kiss was tender this time as he brought yours to his. His touch was softer and more loving. It confused you how when you behaved he acted like this. That was until his finger swiped against your wound, drawing your attention back to it - reminding you that it was there.

At the same moment, his other hand slid underneath your towel, instantly finding your folds. That was weird he never prioritized your pleasure, his fucks were only ever for himself. “I've been a dick, let me make it up to you”

The towel fell around you both as he removed it, letting you stand up in front of him again. Once again this small second of standing in front of him was interrupted as he pressed kisses against his initials. You felt him groan as he licked against the dried blood before sucking against the fresh blood that began to pebble. It was a strange sensation when he kissed you again, tasting the iron of your blood on your lips. Spotting the darkened red tone of his own as it dried against them. He stood above you once more, spinning you both around and walking you backwards until you fell against the bed. His shirt was removed first, the light showing off the scars and his abs which were mostly hidden behind a layer of fat now he wasn't in service anymore. The clink of his belt was loud and sharp as it cut through the tension, you didn't miss his smirk as you flinched.

His hands spread your legs, watching as your pussy glistened in the light. Perhaps he should do foreplay more often if you were greeting him like this. You watched as his cock sprung free, the length always intimidating despite only receiving it earlier. You flinched again as his body made contact with yours, ignoring the flash of hurt in his eyes that despite promising not to flee anymore you still had the instinct. His grip was still possessive as he tugged you closer, lining himself up before burying the length back into your warmth. Instead of the brutal pace you were used to at first he was gentle, as if he was learning the curves inside of your body. Enjoying each clench you gracefully gave him in favour of a particular movement. It was when you started squirming that his brain flicked a switch. The pleasure building up too quickly causing you to thrash and moan beneath him but to Leon you tried to get away. Again.

His hands trapped you in a tight grip halting your movements bringing him closer to his moving pelvis. Your back arched in retaliation giving him the chance to go deeper. Leon stopped his movements as he watched you, the orgasm you had impending now fading away. Your whines were pretty, as were your flushed out cheeks. His body leaned over yours, his lips attacking your neck before moving towards your collar bone. Finishing his trail once again on the carving he had made. He sucked on it again as he began to move, pain flaring once more as it mixed with the pleasure he was giving you. “I have left such an imprint on you that if you escape…everyone will have to know about me to learn about you”

He wasn’t wrong, the searing pain coming from your chest was proof enough, a scar would soon form. One you would never be able to cover up. His lips silenced your whines as he began to work on his own pleasure again. His balls tightening as he increased his onslaught. He felt you cum around him; your arousal now coating his length allowing his movements to become more fluid. His grip was bruising as he manhandled you into position. Your leg hoisted over his hip, “ Look at me”

Your eyes flicked over to him instantly, you hated how obedient you were to him now. How willingly you followed his every command. You felt his warmth flood throughout your insides, his hips still working hard to thrust his final mark of the day inside you. Making sure you never forget about him. He quickly eased himself out of you, allowing your body to relax against the bedsheets. He watched his cum spill from between your legs, the large smears of blood over your chest. He had ruined you, ruined you for anyone else.

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