#but its the only time i see people other than my mother (even if its through a screen and technically my sisters friends)

[thatgaytevinter]

THIS THIS THIS THIS THIS. page breaking bc i have to talk about my boy.

tldr: chis are so smart, and i love them. i will beat you with a stick if you think they have one brain cell that just yaps. im mourning one, so i kind of derailed in this, so im sorry this is long. feel free to skip.

i have 1 chihuahua at the moment, but I have had the opportunity and blessing to love 3 chihuahuas in my time.

chihuahuas. know. everything.

yes, they are alert dogs with big ears and yappy mouths. but they have a purpose, and they were bred for that, and they know.

Kunai, my current and only chihuahua right now is the best example of this ever. we say he is in the same situation as Salem from Sabrina. hes just WAY too intelligent.

kunai knows that a specific reflection bouncing off the wall from the little windows on my front door means someone is in the driveway. he even knows, now, that specific reflections mean different cars. he howls differently when my dad pulls up than when my mom does. he doesnt do his 'i love you bark' when he sees the reflection of my uncle's car. He stares at the wall the reflections bounce off now when someone isnt home or its around 3:30 (usually when other people pull up to the house).

he knows that when my mother puts River up, she is waking up my dad for work (which means he gets to go to bed soon), so he will direct all the other dogs and US to our places so he can get there faster. BUT he also has immense FOMO, so he will pretend to eat his food until we all say goodnight and depart to our respective rooms so that mom doesn't pick him up to take him to bed.

he is an actor. he loves a good dramatic and will play it up and in different ways to get what he wants.

my 2 other chis, Honey and Poco, were also very intelligent and loving. they were more empathic, though, if you understand the difference in what im saying about them and kunai. they weren't dumb. They knew perfectly what was going on, but they didn't have the patience to deal with it the way Kunai does. they knew when you didn't like a person or you were uncomfortable. they cared more for your emotions than their own at times to their own detriment.

Kunai is truly hard to explain without you seeing him in action in person, but he is a master manipulator. and i dont mean in the usual 'puppy dog eyes' way. i mean full production: swooning, gaslighting, Purposeful and Deliberate Shunning.

He's my little person in a little furry suit, and i treat him as such. everyone in the house does. he understands us, and it confounds people that we dont baby talk our chis. he knows what we're saying, and he WILL ARGUE if he doesn't think it's the correct action to take. He's much more sensible than most in my family, and im not being biased at all. he knows better than them.

i love chihuahuas. i will defend them to my dying breath. i miss their barks frequently and how they didn't listen to me. their hearts often can't take the amount of love they have for their people.

It fucks with me that dog intelligence is tested with obedience tests, so there's a significant bias towards compliant dog breeds. Dogs that are intelligent enough to understand what is being asked of them, but are too headstrong and/or independent to go through with it, get lumped up with the dogs that might want to do what people ask them to do, but are too stupid to understand the assignment.

And it fucks with me that chihuahuas are actually quite intelligent. They're not stressed and angry because they're too stupid to understand what's going on. They understand exactly what's going on, and that's why they're so angry and stressed.

[we-were-beautiful]

Forever and Day

So my Lovely beta @loving-and-dreaming made a request for this oneshot ages ago and I finished it way later than I thought... Its done now and I hope you enjoy it. If you see any mistakes in this no you don't For the full experience listen to

Eris Vanserra/ Reader

I never thought the two of us would get to this point in our lives. Truly and  utterly happy. A scream pulled my attention to the two red haired children running around the room with my beloved mate chasing after them. We fought hard to get to this point and had faced countless challenges to get here. 

“Mom is everything alright.” My eldest daughter ask a she walks up to the throne that I am sitting on. There is a touch of concern in her voice that I pick up on 

“Nothing dear heart. Just watching your father chasing the grandbabes around just brings back memories.” I smile lookup at the daughter who looks so much like her father. Bright red hair and cinnamon eyes so like her fathers; when she was younger I had been only slightly bitter that it was hard to find any traces of me in her. As she grew though I loved the fact that I could look at her and see Eris 

“He’s so good with them. Thank you for taking care of them for me today.” She perches herself on the arm of the throne watching her father chase her babes around the same throne room that held so many important memories for our family. 

“It is always our pleasure dear heart. We miss having babes in the house.” And we did it was always an adventure when there were little feet pattering around the Forest House. 

Funny how if you would have asked me 900 years ago what my life would have been like I never would have imagined that my life would be like this. 

I hadn’t wanted to go to this stupid ball; but my father insisted. As a part of Beron’s court of advisers my father was required to attend the events that where hosted at the forest house and by extension that meant that our family was required to go. That meant being washed, oiled, powdered and dressed up like a doll to put our best foot forward; to impress the High Lord. Once the entire family had been made presentable dressed in our finest we head to the Forest House to socialize with the elite of the Autumn court. 

“Stop fidgeting with your dress.” My mother chides as we move to greet the High Lord and his family.

“Sorry it’s the corset. One of the bones is digging into my ribs.” I didn’t want it to sound like I was whining but I don’t think I succeeded in that endeavor. My father fixes me with a glare before we step up before Beron and his family. 

“High Lord, Might I introduce my wife and daughter.” He bows before motioning towards my mother and me. We step forward and curtsy. I glance up at the family in front of us. The high lord cuts an intimidating figure sitting in his throne clothed in a deep burgundy jacket and black pants. The Lady of Autumn is sat slightly behind her husband in a less ornate chair. Her outfit seems to be wearing her rather than the other way around. A crimson gown covered in jewels paired with a large necklace and tiara. It would be a beautiful look on someone with a loud personality but her ladyship was a very soft spoken female. They are a beautiful couple but there is a lack of affection between the two; even though they are sitting right beside each other it seems like they are in different courts

When I glance at the third figure I nearly gasp. He is beautiful. Tall and lithe , a perfect combination of the two people sitting in front of him. Eris, Beron’s eldest son, was a work of art. Rumors flew around the court that he was just as ruthless as his father. Cinnamon eyes met mine for a brief second. I missed the way his eyes widen ever so slightly. It is as if the two of us had drifted to our own little world. I bow my head again as a blush creeps up my neck. Thankfully I am spared further embarrassment as my father leads my mother and I away from the dais. 

Time passes slowly as the night wears on. I had been twirled around the room by several arrogant males who only seemed to want to talk about themselves and their accomplishments. I couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on me the whole night and I could not seem to pin who was watching me. I find myself hiding in the corner of the room 

I don’t realize when he approaches until he is standing before me with an elegant hand extended.

“May I have this dance.” His smooth Baritone voice is like music flowing through my ears. I nod before placing my hand in his, letting him lead me out onto the floor to dance. It's like the fairy tails that my mother used to read to me before bed about the prince taking the princess by the hand and twirling her around the floor until the clock struck midnight. 

Months had passed since that fateful dance. Eris had formally asked to court me shortly after that ball and we had been stuck together at the hip. We rarely went a few days without seeing one another. It had been a blessing that Beron had approved of the relationship. I knew that it was only because of my family standing within the court that we had approval but I was so grateful for it. 

Eris had sent me a message late last night saying that he would be stealing me away for the day. I wasn’t expecting a hike through the woods with Eris’s dogs running around freely chasing after one another, but it was beautiful. It felt like some of the courts overlooked Autumn's beauty. The reds, oranges, and golds of the leaves paint a beautiful picture. Dead leaves create a soft carpet on the forest floor crunching as we walk along the path. Eris holds onto one of my hands as he leads me to a break in the trees. The hounds dart into the field stirring up a host of butterflies. I let out a soft gasp at the sight as I leaned into Eris reveling in his warmth. 

“I love you forever” I whisper rising up onto my toes to give him a kiss on the cheek 

“And I love you forever and a day.” He gently grasp my chin. He turns my face towards him and places a soft kiss on my lips. 

We had been courting for almost two years now. Two years of joy and love; there is a level of propriety that had to be kept due to our stations but we had enough time to really get to know one another. I had loved everything about this male and it warmed my heart to know that I was one of maybe three people that he liked. He had invited me over to the forest house today to spend the day together. I had only been here for a few minutes sitting alone in one of the sitting rooms, but there was no Eris in sight. The staff had led me here so I knew I was in the right place but now I am curious to where my wayward male is. I ended up so lost in my own thoughts that I missed the door creak open. It is the sound of nails clicking on the floor that pulls me from my mind. Running towards me is a small gray puppy and a tiny little fox kit. The puppy reaches me first immediately begging for my attention 

“Oh hello, who are you?” I reach down to pet the puppy’s velvety soft fur. By that time the fox had also reached me, pawing at my leg to be picked up.

“He’s yours. The fox is as well” Eris’s smooth voice fills the room as he strides towards me.

“You got me a puppy and a fox. What’s the occasion?” I smile coyly at him before returning my attention to the hyper puppy at my feet 

“Well read the note, love.” Note. I look at the puppy and see the small piece of paper stuck in between the collar and the puppy’s neck. I gently pulled it out of and unfolded it with one hand while supporting the fox with the other 

‘Will you be my Mommy and marry Daddy?’ I look up to see Eris kneeling in front of me a ring box open 

“My love, I knew from the moment I saw you that I would love you until my last breath and then I would love you until the universe ceased to exist. These past two years have been the best years of my life and I want to spend the rest of eternity with you. Will you marry me?” I let out an almost inaudible gasp. I look into those beautiful cinnamon eyes and feel a snap of a small golden thread weaving its way between us linking us together from now until we cease to exist. A mating bond, I gently tug on the strand and feel a larger tug coming from Eris’s end. Apparently he already new 

“Yes..” Tears start to fall from my eyes “A million times yes, My mate.”  

“Stop picking at your corset.” My mother chides and I am thrown back to the night I met Eris. But now I stand in a large room with my mother and soon to be mother in law while one of the Lady of Autumn's Ladies maids places me into the extravagant white dress that had been designed for today. 

Today I was finally marrying Eris 5 years after our first meeting. And while five years is fleeting to the Fae it seems like it had been dragging on forever. There was one final thing that needed to be added before the look was completed. The tiara that my soon to be father in law had made for me as a small wedding gift and attached to it a veil that trailed even further than the train of my dress. 

A soft knock on the door draws the attention of the Lady of Autumn 

“Excuse me my lady, but it is time.” I hear my fathers voice on the other side of the door. 

“Ok just give us one second.” She responds, turning to face my mother and I. The maid had just placed the final pin in my hair securing the surprisingly heavy tiara to my hair. 

“Are you ready dear?” She asks softly. Tears welling up in her eyes as she looks at me 

“I’ve been ready since our first outing.” I stand and move towards the door where my father stands in silent shock 

“You look beautiful my love.” He wipes a tear away “Let's go get you married.”

I let out a little laugh as the four of us made our way to the throne room. The lady of autumn are the first to enter quickly making their way to their respective seats. A few heartbeats later a gentle harp starts and the doors to the throne room are thrown open. I get my first true look at my husband who hasn’t turned to face me as Autumn court tradition dictates he is flanked by the second eldest Vanserra son. Beron rises from the throne gesturing for my father to walk me towards my groom. It isn’t until my father placed my hand in Eris’ that he is allowed to look. While his face is schooled into a neutral position I can feel the love pouring down the bond as he takes in the moment.

“I love you forever.” He whispers to me down the bond 

“And I love you Forever and a day.” I reply refraining from leaning over and kissing him.

The ceremony flies by and before I knew it Beron is tying our hands together in an act as old as the Autumn court itself. I repeat the things that Beron tells me too and soon enough I hear the words I had waited 5 years to hear 

“Eris you may kiss your bride.” And In that moment Eris breaks his stoic nature and pulls me into a deep kiss for all in attendance to see.   

50 years never seemed like a long time. With Eris 50 years seemed to fly by without consequences. But these last 50 years had been absolute hell being separated from my mate. Everything had happened so fast that night, one moment I had been getting ready to join Eris and the rest of the Vanserra’s for a party hosted by Hybern’s general, next I was being whisked away by the night court's shadow singer. I hadn’t realized at the time that it would be the last time I would see Eris for 50 years. I spent the next 5 decades trapped in a hidden city in the Night Court. While their High Lords inner circle was nice to me in my time there. I would have rather been with my mate. I could occasionally feel Eris down the bond but those moments were fleeting. The moment we could feel the wards come down I made the move to winnow back to my home. I could finally feel my mate  Landing outside of the forest house. I stopped for a moment to take in home; the crisp Autumn air, the colorful leaves and the gentle crunch as I raced towards the place that had become home to me. I yank on the bond that I am able to feel for the first time in 50 years. I feel Eris tug in response and follow the pull. 

There standing in the great hall looking paler than the last time I saw him was my mate. I completely forego all decorum as I throw myself into his arms. I take a deep breath; breathing in Eris spicy scent that is riddled with the undertones of damp rock 

“My mate… my mate your back your finally back.” I sob into his neck for a while. I thought that I would never see him again.

I feel Eris take a small step back before oh so gently grabbing my chin tilting my head up to meet his cinnamon gaze 

“How could I forget those beautiful eyes?” The softest smile graces his face “ They always take me by surprise.” He leaned down peppering my face with butterfly kisses 

“I missed you, my love. I missed your face. I missed your smile. I missed everything about you.” He continues peppering my face in kisses as he pulls me back into a crushing hug

“I love you forever, Eris.” I whisper against his lip 

“ I love you forever and a day.” He replies kissing me deeply 

It was the dead of night, the residents of the forest house all seemingly asleep. We sat on the bed in shock at what the healer had told us. 

A child.

He had sworn the healer to secrecy before throwing wards around me. Eris didn’t want any of his remaining younger brothers to even catch wind of this pregnancy.  

We were bringing a child into this world while his father still ruled the Autumn Court with an iron first. 

“I’m scared.” I finally whispered the words out loud. I had to watch Beron beat his children into submission and pit them against one another. It was only by the grace of his mother that Eris is even mildly wildly adjusted.

“I will handle it. Stay here.” He places a soft kiss on the top of my head before strolling  out of the room

“Eris…” My protest died with the slam of the door. Thirteen heads pop up at  the sound of the door. The hound Eris had got me for our engagement trots up to me . No longer a puppy, the  large hound places its head in my lap in an attempt to comfort me. 

My thoughts race back to Lucien and his lover. Watching my father in law order her execution forcing poor Lucien to watch and then sending the rest of his children after their youngest brother. What if that happens to Eris and me… and our unborn child my stomach churns at the thought. No no everything will be fine… It has to be 

There is one thing that they never really tell you when you are growing up since it is so rare for a High Lord to die, and that is you can feel it. It felt like a shock wave rushing through the forest house and suddenly there was panic. The once sleepy halls of the forest house sprang to life in a matter of seconds. Nobles and servants rushing about in panicked waves. 

Shadows pooled in our rooms and all twelve hounds focused on the portal that was forming. Out of it walks two familiar faces, One the Warrior who had whisked me away to the Night Court  before Amarantha’s reign and the second was the High Lord of the Night Court  

“Just like Eris to rush in completely foregoing the plan.” Azriel, yes that was the name he gave me all those years ago, growled out.

“Well its too late now, the plans fucked but he got the results he wanted.” The High lord took one step further into the room to be met with a growl. 

“Ah Lady Vanserra.” Rhysand gives me a warm smile “I think we all need to go talk to your husband.” 

I let out a sharp whistle calling the hounds off “Yes we probably do.”

Rhysand and Azriel make their way towards the doors to my chambers. It seems surreal trailing behind the two as the fea that had been scrambling in the halls part to the sides giving us a wide breadth. We make our way to the throne room people ,moving every which way in confusion. On the way I see my parents standing in the door to their rooms looking at me confused as I follow Rhysand  and his spy master.  When Azriel throws open the door to the throne room we are greeted with a shocking sight. There sitting on his fathers throne is Eris coated in blood. My mother-in-law standing slightly behind the throne also coated in a fair amount of blood looking paler than I had ever seen her but oddly relieved. Keeling on the floor bound and surrounded by guards are the Three remaining Vanserra brothers. 

I rushed over to my mother-in-law's side to check her over. She pulls me into a hug whispering “Its over, its over, its finally over” into my shoulder.  I watch as Eris’s brothers are hauled out of the room by the Guards who had been loyal to Eris 

Listening in to the conversation between my mate and the Highlord  is shocking 

Beron is dead. 

Eris is the new High Lord of Autumn 

We are finally free of that monster. We can raise our child without that storm cloud above us. Tears run down my face in relief. Yeah the transition will be hard but that is a problem for later for now all I can feel is relief 

After some time Rhysand and Azriel leave and Eris makes his way over to me. He wraps me up tightly in his arms placing a kiss to the top of my head 

“I love you.” He whispers into my hair, voice trembling, “Both of you” one hand makes its way down to rest where our child is growing in my womb. 

“And we love you forever and a day.” I lean up and give him a soft kiss.

Pregnancy was rough. Nobody ever tells you that until it's too late and you are already miserable. Labor though Labor was torturous. 14 hours I had been in labor. The day had started simply enough with a nice stroll with my mate around the forest house but around lunch time the contractions had started and it only got worse. They tell you birth is painful and it's dangerous but I had underestimated just how painful it was as I pushed with the contraction. Eris, who was sitting behind me kept whispering in my ears how proud he was of me and that it was going to be over soon just one push and then it would be over. I had stopped believing him after the fifth time he said just one more. I slumped back against his chest. 

“I can't do this. I can't do this.” I babble shaking my head anticipating the next wave of pain  

“You can do this love. Just one more push and you will have our babe in your arms.” 

“You said just one more push the last five times.” I wail as push with the next wave of pain. I felt the rush and relief of pressure followed by the screams of the babe. 

“It's a girl.” The midwife laughed as she placed the screaming babe on my bare chest 

“A girl.” I hear Eris whisper behind me, turning my head to kiss me.

“I love you.” I whisper turning to look at our beautiful babe squirming and crying in my arms 

“I love you forever and a day.” If I feel tears falling on my head I’m not going to say anything 

“We have a baby girl.” I whisper not taking my eyes off her. She moves towards the sound of my voice eyes wide with wonder as she takes in Eris and I 

“Rozalyn. Her name should be Rozalyn.” Eris states moving to brush a hand over the barley existent red hairs on her head 

“Welcome to the world baby Rozalyn.” I lean down to place a kiss on her head. 

It's odd how quickly time passes and how that small babe grew up to be the female that she is today. The heir of the Autumn court beloved by the citizens of the court. Eris and I made sure to give Rozalyn and her sibling the best life that we could. One vastly different than how Eris and his brothers were brought up. We laugh as we watch the High lord chase the two little faelings around the room as they screamed in joy when he caught up to the snatching one of them in each arm. 

“Grandpa put us down.” The youngest laughs when Eris spins around a few times, drawing squeals of laughter. He quickly sets them down when they yell out that they're too dizzy. I watch as the elder of the two spots Roz from her perch on the arm of my throne 

“Mom!!” the two yell out racing over to where the two of us sit. It is odd to hear mom and not have people running to me instead they are running to my own baby. 

“Hey babies.” She hops off the throne and kneels down to catch the two in her arms 

“Did you guys behave for Grandma and Grandpa?” she questions the two who nod. “ Alright well we need to head home so say bye.”

I stand from my throne and kneel down ready to catch my grandchildren in my arms 

“Bye bye Grandma.” THey wrap their arms around me as I squeeze them tight 

“Goodbye my loves. I will see you soon.” I place a kiss on the top of their heads “I love you.” 

“I love you too they respond in synch before dashing off to repeat the process with their grandfather 

I wrap my arms around Rozalyn giving her a tight hug. “I love you baby, and I will see you soon. 

“Love you too Mom.” She responds, hugging me back “I will see you and Dad later.” 

She goes and gives Eris a hug goodbye before winnowing herself and the kids back to their cottage. I stare at the space where they had just vanished, not sensing Eris behind me until his arms wrapped around my waist. 

“What are you thinking about my love.?” He ask resting his chin on my shoulder 

“Just our story and how we got to this point in our lives 

“Well I wouldn’t have wanted to do it with anyone else.” He kisses my temple 

“Me either.” I turn in his arms to face him almost immediately, getting lost in his cinnamon eyes “ I love you forever.” 

“And I love you forever and a day.” He leans down kissing me passionately.   

[thesleepyhollows]

Understanding Arkhamverse scarecrow.

I’ve been wanting to make this post for awhile. I think with the release of Arkham shadow we might finally have all the necessary pieces to understand the life of Jonathan crane, his motivations and his descent into obsession.

This scene gives us a lot to work with.

Let’s start with this. It seems like unlike some versions of crane who see fear as a tool. The true face of control and power. Arkhamverse Crane sees fear as everything. This has been observed all throughout the series. From him discussing how fear drives every human action in Arkham asylum to this line in Arkham knight just before he’s defeated.

Something else I noted in that clip was Jonathan immediately trying to rationalise and analyse his reaction to his toxin using fear.

Now we’re not quite sure what this original chemical of his does. Only that its intention is to trigger the shadow within people. We can assume through both his and Batman’s reactions that it aims to do this through a similar process to the future fear toxin. Bringing out and facing people with their deepest fears. Hoping they may become them.

Though that leaves the same question. Why jump to fear. He’s clearly talented in chemistry. Surly there would be more direct ways to bring out people’s demons rather than only focusing on a single part of the shadow. Well I believe that shows us even before this realisation Jonathan had some experience and issues with fear. It’s also why his greatest fear seemingly is just. Fear itself. The helpless fears given to us from evolutions and experiences long before our time. Inherent fears.

However we also shouldn’t disregard his fixation on the shadow itself. Why does he seemingly want to get people to become their worst selves. As seen in his tapes with Harvey. Why is Jonathan crane like this?

Well I think there may have been a time where he saw someone consumed by fear. Destoryed by it.

This could draw an interesting parallel to the story of Amadeus Arkham whose story started when he watched his own mother be consumed by her mental illness before ending up consumed by it himself. I think this parallel could make a lot of sense given that I’d argue although the joker plays a more personal threat scarecrow is the main villain of the Arkham series.

So allow me to tell you what I believe to be the story of Jonathan Crane in the Arkham series. Assuming that the brief backstory we got in his Arkham asylum character bio isn’t considered canon.

A parent or other caregiver suffered from great anxiety and paranoia that caused them to do great harm. Maybe overtime perhaps in one tragic incident. Jonathan internalised this and began to grow interested in the mind. Maybe it started with good intentions. After all he does claim to be helping people in Arkham shadow. Maybe that was a lie and he’s been twisted for a very long time. Who knows.

He began work at Gotham state university and we know how that ended up.

Though it’s worth noting he clearly was brilliant. So much so that this incident unlike most versions of the character did not get him fired because his classes brought the university so much revenue. Instead he left on his own accord to take over as head of rehabilitation at blackgate. An odd choice given the amount of institutions bidding over him. They were likely offering more, far more than the job he took. Though I think his motivations for this were split. Partly is of course the obvious motivation of easy access to test subjects that couldn’t easily speak out. We can see in the previous game that he was running controlled tests likely of the chemicals we see used in Arkham shadow and his subjects were willing participants.

Now either not enough people were choosing to participate or the effects were becoming so potent it risked drawing unwanted attention to his work.

The second reason connects to my proposed backstory. Maybe he was curious to explore how fear connects and causes crime and violence via the shadow. The chain reaction that begins WITH fear.

We then see the events that happen in Arkham shadow and we find out alongside Jonathan that he’s been inhaling his own chemicals during testing. Smart move there buddy. This sends him into a psychotic spiral and forces him to confront and become his greatest fear. His shadow. Fear itself. We can see that this truly set in given how messed up he looks the following day. Not to mention his actions becoming erratic. No longer thinking to hide his crimes until after he severely injures Harvey and huffing his own chemicals right in court.

Afterwards? We’re not sure. Of course he goes on to become the scarecrow then the events play out as we see throughout the rest of the Arkham games. He gets mauled by killer croc during the events of asylum and his previously smug and joyfully sadistic personality get destroyed alongside his face. The experience clearly changed him quite drastically as a person. Although clearly it didn’t shake his core ideals and beliefs about the all consuming nature of fear.

How pitifully ironic that this idea became true in the end. As he’s injected with his own toxins his mind collapsing and giving way to permanent insanity and terror. Fear really was everything Jonathan had left in the end.

[this-should-do]

venting dont mind me xp ✌

[katyobsesses]

I'm not allowed on tiktok anymore. Or YouTube shorts. Or I assume Instagram reels though I've never watched them. I will just scroll and scroll and scroll and completely lose track of time and suddenly it's 5am and I'm so dehydrated that my mouth feels like a desert

[why-rock-look-tasty-if-no-eat]

You can also recognize someone by the sounds of their breathing. I do that with my family and it's hilarious when I know who they are when they're trying to sneak up on me lol

bruce is one of those people who can recognize others by the sound of their footsteps, their smell (and ONLY THAT), their voice, just like, anything really

and when other, normal, people find it weird, he just goes "well, tim does it too"

(that's NOT reassuring, bruce)

[gibbearish]

oh no im remembering why i liked sebastian so much my first time through

[gallusrostromegalus]

The Van Has Officially Declared It Spooky Season

---

I've got my parent's van for the week and it seems determined to establish my status as The Local Cryptid by terrorizing an innocent 7-11 clerk.

...I might need to back up a bit.

My mother is an eminently sensible woman who knows herself well, and when The Plauge hit, she knew she'd need some sort of mentally and physically engaging craft project to keep herself from going insane and massacring the local zoning and water management boards (even if they have it coming). So she and Dad acquired a utility van and converted it into a camper van because while they love camping, they're past the age where their joints and immune systems will tolerate sleeping on the cold ground in a nylon tent.

They did a terrific job of it and my mom taught herself woodworking and carpentry and now the van has it's own cabinets, fold-away dining table, and removable queen-sized bed with memory foam mattress. My Dad was already a computer engineer, but he learned the dark magics of automotive software and electronics to install after-market backup cameras, a media player that would take a terabyte hard drive and a solar-powered battery and outlet so they could wake up and just turn on the kettle and griddle for breakfast without having to exit the van into a cold morning on an empty stomach.

Truly, the height of Camping Luxury.

My parents are both in their mid-seventies and my primary life goal is to be at least half as cool and hale as they are when I get old.

Anyway, they take it out at least a dozen times a year and it works fabulously, but, being as I am on good terms with my parents and also finishing the process of moving house, I've been borrowing it to move large and cumbersome objects that will not fit in the back of my equally lovely but minuscule Honda hatchback.

It's a Great Van. Very easy and comfortable to drive. Stunningly good MPG for it's size. The best cruise control I've ever had in a car.

It's just also. Quirky. Mischievous, even.

---

If this van has a fault its that it bears the unfortunate affliction that all lightly used white utility vans have in that the combination of an utter lack of branding features and the large dent/scrape I accidentally put on it while trying to escape a Denny's last Thanksgiving means that this vehicle is one addition of a Badly Spray-Painted "FREE CANDY" on the side away from being the sort of vehicle you see in an edgy horror movie.

It's got the same issue that Doberman Dogs have where they look like the sort of creature that likes to snack on toddler's faces whilst actually having personalities made of marshmallow fluff. This vehicle is unnecessarily menacing and I think nothing short of an airbrushed Epic Van Wizard will correct this. People see this van pull up and lean over and squint suspiciously at me when the driver's side door opens, and then look moderately confused when, instead of Charles Manson, a small, potato-shaped creature with neon purple hair and a statistically unlikely assortment of dogs emerges.

My own two dogs, Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin/Corgi and Charleston Chew The Taco Dumpster Dog, Do Not Like The Van. Even with the bed in it, they have a tendency to slide and roll around in the back, and both WILL chew through dog saftey belts or other attempts to secure them in there.

On the other hand, my house mate's dog, an exceptionally tall standard poodle whom we lovingly call "The Creature", loves the Van because SHE wears her doggy seat-belt with only mild complaining and gets to sit up in the passenger seat like A People.

Also like A People, The Creature likes to stand and walk around on her hind legs. It doesn't hurt her and it's entirely voluntary, but every so often I will feel a hand on my arm and instead of my husband or friend, it's a canine that's taller than I am on her hind legs who wants to stare at my face with soulful, concerned eyes. The Creature's favorite thing is that she is exactly the right height for me to hold her arm in Genteel Fashion and walk around the pet food or hardware store with her like I'm a count escorting a debutante around a royal ball.

---

As it stands, I am set to inherit this vehicle whenever my Honda gives up the ghost, and I fully intend to paint an Epic Van Wizard on it when that time comes.

The other peculiarity of The Van is that while Dad did manage to successfully install all his after-market electronics, not all the electronics get along. Sometimes, they fight for Dominance. The Terabyte Music Player and the Backup Camera have a particularly contentious relationship, and turning on the music has about a 25% chance of turning on the backup camera as well, and turning on the Backup Camera is equally likely to turn on the music.

Firthermore, The Van has a favorite song.

I am not kidding that Dad filled an entire terabyte hard drive with music and the software to sort it via the radio controls, but of all the Early Boomer Dad Rock (Kingston Trio over The Eagles) and Irish Folk and Symphonies and the entire discography of Weird Al Yankovic, The Van's favorite song- The one it picks to play as victory music every time it beats the Backup Camera at their weird electronic game of rock-paper-scissors -is The Liberty Bell March by John Phillip Sousa.

You all know this song already.

...but in case you've forgotten the tune:

Yeah.

The Van's favorite song is the goddamn Monty Python's Flying Circus Theme Music.

It does not play this song at a normal volume.

Every time I turn on the Backup Camera and it manages to turn the music player on as well, The Van insists on absolutely blasting this nonsense on at the maximum volume it's physically capable of producing, which I know is loud enough to be heard from the Denver International Airport's Pickup zone when they Van decided to start playing it from the economy lot about half a mile away.

Perhaps it's The Van's way of honoring the aesthetic sensibilities and sonic enthusiasm of Mr. Sousa.

...I can't help but wonder if the purpose of an Epic Van Wizard is to control this sort of faerie-like malarkey, and channel these chaotic energies into things like Spell of Don't Break Down In Nevada or Enchantment Of Always Have Good Parking.

---

So last Friday the 13th, I get a call from my friend and housemate, at said airport.

It's roughly 11PM at night, and I have already retired for the evening. I am in the exact minimum of clothing required to be a decent housemate and not scandalize the neighbors should I happen to walk by a window. My feet are up. There is a cat in my lap and fictional British people murdering each other in highly inventive fashion on the tv. -But my friend has returned from her friend's wedding,and either American or United Airlines has managed to lose her luggage, including, among other valuable possessions, the keys to her car. ...So she cannot just drive home as originally planned.

There are, as luck would have it, her spare set of keys not eight feet from me.

Being a good and decent person, I agree to bring the spare keys to her so she may get home before daybreak and not spend a semester's worth of tuition on an uber across the greater Denver traffic jam.

Being also that she Loves Activities, and it's her mom we're going to pick up, I elect to take along The Creature.

I am primarily focused on remembering how to get to the airport and not leaving my friend's spare keys on the counter, so I throw on a pair of flip-flops, step outside, remember that it's AUTUMN and my minimal evening attire is not sufficient thermal protection, step back in, grab the first coat in the closet I lay hands on, pull it on, check that I have her keys again and leave.

The trip to the airport is largely unremarkable, save that it becomes necessary for me to put on sunglasses to drive, despite it being nearly the witching hour and almost entirely darker than the inside of a cow.

It's necessary because this blissful darkness of night is violently punctured by a startling number of cars that seem to have installed miniaturized but no less powerful lighthouse bulbs in where their headlights ought to go so the oncoming traffic and sports cars that insist on tailgating me in the slow lane alike illuminate the road and my mirrors with the kind of radiance I'd normally associate with the arrival of a Seraphim.

I arrive at the distant highly discounted airport car lot where my housemate is waiting, deeply apologetic. It's nothing. I say. Once I see that your car starts up, I'm gonna go to that 7-11 across the way that I parked in front of, get a slurpee or something and I'll see you at home.

While she is retrieving her vehicle (an equally eccentric but much more stately Subaru that is old enough to be elected to congress) I rifle through the loose change in the glove box and discover that I have exactly $6.66 in small bills and coins. The Subaru, continuing it's long voyage into vehicular immortality, immediately starts up.

Upon her return, we all remember that my friend had all her camping gear in the backseat of the car and there is no room for The Creature to ride home with her parent, so I again assure her it's nothing, and will just take The Creature into the 7-11 with me. She is trained as a service animal and needs the practice after the plague.

I wave my friend off and turn to enter the 7-11.

I promptly trip over the jutting back bumper of The Van and fall, cartoonishly, face-first onto the sidewalk.

Fortunately, I have a lot of practice falling on my face, and have learned not to throw my hands out but instead cover my face, so my unexpected self-inflicted attempted curb-stomping lightly scrapes my hairline and nothing else -my sunglasses even stay in place- and I get up and resume my quest for a slurpee.

It's well known that the airport is a lawless place, and the 7-11 across from the discounted airport parking at the stroke of midnight is no exception.

I know it's the stroke of Midnight because there's one of those Audubon society bird-call clocks that makes bird noises, and my arrival is heralded by the twittering call of a Summer Tanager. I am almost charmed enough by the unusual choice of chronological device to excuse the exorbitant Airport-adjacent mark-up of Slurpee prices. I stand at the machine for some time, trying to decide on a size for the price and guess what the fuck "Blue Lighting Blast" is supposed to taste like.

The Creature is being Very Polite but is somewhat agitated, I assume because she *just* saw her mother for the first time in three days and then she LEFT with no explanation, so The Creature is on her hind legs, staring woefully into my eyes, asking to be escorted around the 7-11. Even though that's not what she's not supposed to be doing, there's nobody else in here, so I let her hang off my arm and discuss various Slurpee Flavor options with her.

We eventually decide on an experiment in which I try a Small Blue Lightning Blast, and discover it tastes a bit like licking a nintendo cartridge but in a pleasantly satisfying way.

I go up to pay and realize something is amiss.

The Cashier is a young man staring at me with wide eyes, one had over the register and the other wrapped up in his rosary.

I look down at myself.

In my haste to reunite my friend with her spare keys and service animal, I had left the house in the following accoutrements:

Flip Flops. Not matching. It's below freezing outside. That last part is not particularly odd footwear for the weather in for Colorado, but it's an important detail for the rest of the ensemble.

Assorted scrapes, bruises, cuts and welts on my arms and legs that come with doing outdoor work and living in a house with three dogs and a fully-clawed cat that all want to be in my lap all the time. It's cold out, so vasoconstriction has pulled the blood away from my skin, a trait that served my ancestors well during the last Ice Age, but leaves me with pale skin to contrast the various wounds and I look like a corpse that fell out of the back of a pickup truck.

The black Bootyshorts with "CRYPTID" painted in bright red gothic font across my ass, that @theshitpostcalligrapher gave me for my wedding present.

A peculiar but extremely comfortable garment that straddles the line between "Lacy Camisole" and "Industrial-Strength Sports Bra" like the Ever Given straddling the Suez Canal. It is also Bright Red. with black accents.

The Jacket I had grabbed out of the closet, which is in fact, a black Velour Dinner Jacket.

The Tokyo-Ghoul inspired reusable anti-covid mask a friend made me with the set of Coyote Teeth.

My sunglasses, which are shaped like a Halloween Bat. The lenses are the wings and the body is the nose bridge. It is ALSO bright red.

A Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle that I have been audibly affectionately calling "Dear Creature" who is hanging off my arm like she's my Prom Date.

The Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle is ALSO dressed up in a black Dog Sweater that has white bones printed on it to look like its an X-ray jacket showing off her skeleton.

I look like I am taking my Very Fancy Werewolf Girlfriend to a particularly casual Dinner Party for Vampires, but the thing that's really selling it and probably alarming the kid the most is the fun accessory I acquired in the parking lot not five minutes earlier:

The "Small Scrape At my Hairline" is actually a painless but PROFUSELY bleeding head wound that I had somehow entirely failed to notice covering my face, neck, decolletage and magnificent cleavage with blood like a Tarantino Film Extra.

This does explain why The Creature has been delicately trying to use her bodyweight to push me down onto the floor for the last ten minutes. So I don't injure myself while we wait for the paramedics she hoped this kid called to arrive, you see.

The Creature has such a High and Naive Opinion of humanity.

I decide this social situation is already fucked, and the only way out is through, and with haste, before I start dripping on the floor.

"Hi there!" I say cheerfully, to indicate this is a visually alarming but not terribly serious situation. "Just a Small Slurpee!"

The Cashier has entered the relevant code into the register before I finish the sentence. His gaze flicks off me just long enough to look at the total, and he grips his Rosary harder.

$6.66

"Oh cool! I have exact change!" I say, taking the money out of my as-yet-unsanguined pocket without looking and slap it down on the counter. "You have a good night and be safe out there!" I wave, leaving.

I get in The Van, mortified, buckle The Creature up, and as I make to leave, I have to put it in reverse, which automatically turns on the backup Camera.

It also turns on the music player.

I make eye contact with the cashier as the dulcet tones of John Phillip Sousa boom from the van hard enough to make the windshield and the windows of the 7-11 rattle for the nine-and-a-half seconds I have to wait to be able to turn the volume back down. Not knowing what else to to, I give him a thumbs up, and leave.

Anyway, now I know what my Future Van Wizard has got to be dressed like, and what their familiar is.

---

If you enjoyed this story, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi or Pre-ordering my Family Lore Funny Stories book on Patreon

[aurorawhisperz]

You’re All I Need (r.c.)

contains: swearing, angst, mentions of pregnancy, family drama.

father!rafe x mother!reader

a/n: if this goes well and finds its way into my busy schedule, i’ll turn this into a series! and guess who just hit the two-decade mark.. 🎉🎂

summary: you’re sick, exhausted, and barely holding it together while caring for your daughter, juno, alone. desperate, you call rafe, your ex and her father, for help.

who am i to want you now that you’re leaving?

•

almost a year ago, you and rafe had gotten into a big fight over the summer that left both of you saying things that couldn’t be taken back. by the time he was gone, you thought it was over for good. he stormed off and it felt like the end.

that was the same summer you found out you got knocked up.

when you finally told him about the baby, he swore he wanted to be there, for both of you. but you couldn’t do it. you didn’t his half-assed attempts at playing family. so you told him he could be in the baby’s life, but not yours.

the day your daughter was born, nothing felt real. you named her juno, inspired by a movie you’d watched a hundred times during your pregnancy. you didn’t need rafe there that day. at least, that’s what you told yourself.

and for a while, that worked. until tonight.

the fever is unbearable, heat radiating from your body as you lean against the wall to steady yourself, your legs trembling beneath you.

juno cries loudly, sharp and continuous, her small fists waving in anger from her playpen. juno was only a few months old, but the sounds she made tonight seem louder than anything, or maybe it is the throbbing in your head that is making everything clearer.

you tried to calm her down—rocking her, even her close until your arms felt like they might give out but your fever had drained every ounce of strength out of you.

rafe was in the middle of a business call when his phone rang. he saw your name on the caller ID and immediately sensed that something was off. he excuses himself from the meeting and quickly picks up.

“what’s up?" he asks, his voice filled with concern and curiosity. “do you wanna have juno tonight?”you ask, not entirely aware of what you’re doing. “i don’t don’t know..I’m just..” then you sigh. “she’s been saying ‘dada’ all day and she refuses to eat.”

rafe winced at the loud noise. juno’s cries are clearly heard from the other end. it was clear that you were having a hard time, and he felt concerned for both you and juno.

“yeah, ‘course, i’ll take her.” he replies quickly, then rafe doesn’t waste any time. telling some lame excuse to his clients, gathering his things and completely bailing on the group of people in the meeting room.

the drive to your place felt excruciatingly long, but he kept his foot on the gas, determined to get there as fast as possible. rafe offered you and juno a spot at tanneyhill but since you were too petty towards him at that time, you declined.

He rushes to his car, his mind racing with thoughts about you and Juno. The drive to your place feels excruciatingly long, but he keeps his foot on the gas, determined to get there as fast as possible.

finally, he reaches your home and practically jumps out of the car, making his way to the door and banging on it urgently.

"(name)? it’s me! open up!" he calls out, the sound of juno’s cries echoing in his ears.

when you open the door, rafe’s eyes slightly widen in worry at your appearance. he could see the paleness in your face and the exhaustion in your eyes. he quickly steps inside, his eyes scanning the room for juno.

"are you alright?" he asks, his voice filled with concern. "you look absolutely exhausted. what’s going on with you?”

“i’m fine, she’s in my room..” and rafe saw all the tell-tale signs of a fever as he watched you lay down on the couch. he knows you’re not as ‘fine’ as you claim but doesn’t push the issue for now.

a year ago, rafe cameron was chaos incarnate. consumed by his demons, or maybe he was the demon. the outer banks was his kingdom, and as much as you don’t want to admit it, the rafe walking up the stairs to go see your daughter isn’t the same man you walked away from last summer.

decades of being ward cameron’s son don’t just vanish but having a daughter changed rafe in many ways no one thought was possible. he’s more conscious, more quiet, like he’s constantly trying to prove more to himself than to everyone that he was better than the man who raised him.

you’ve seen him with juno, the way he holds her like she’s the only thing that matters in the world.

rafe watches you as you lie down on the couch, he frowns when he sees how weak you look.

he turns and heads straight to the room where juno is crying. he walks over to the crib and leans over, gently scooping up the little girl, holding her close to his chest.

"hey, little one," he coos, his voice soft and soothing. "your dad’s here." juno immediately stops crying as rafe picks her up, her small body calming at the familiarity of his touch and voice. rafe rocks her in his arms, gently shushing her and whispering words of comfort.

"there you go," he murmurs, his fingers gently stroking her soft hair. "no more cries now, i’ve got you."

he walks back to the living room, holding juno close to his chest as he approaches you on the couch.

"hey," rafe says softly, his tone showing concern. "you really don't look well." he moves closer, gently resting a hand on your forehead to feel your temperature. as he suspected, your skin was hot to the touch.

you look up to see him with juno on his hip. “just take care of her for the night.” and your eyes nearly flutter shut.

rafe saw through the way your eyes struggled to stay open. he saw how sick you truly were, but you're trying so hard to hide it.

"damn it," he mutters, his voice tight with worry and frustration. "baby, you’re in no condition to take care of juno on your own right now. you need to rest, and i can't just leave knowing you're not okay."

rafe reluctantly looks down at juno in his arms, her tiny face looking up at him with wide trusting eyes. he then glances back at you, still lying on the couch, weakness written all over your face.

"i will," he replies firmly. "but first, I'm putting you to bed. you need to rest and get better. then I'll take care of the baby."

he heads up and carefully sets juno on the crib for a moment and then walks downstairs, over to the couch, gently scooping you up in his arms.

“put me down..” you whine. "no" rafe replies firmly, his grip on you tightening slightly. "you’re burning up with a damn fever. no condition to be worrying about juno right now." he carries you towards your bedroom, his arms holding you securely against his chest. though you protest, he ignores your weak struggles.

once he reaches your bedroom, he gently lays you down on the bed, making sure you're comfortable and settled. he pulls the covers up over you, tucking you in and smoothing back your hair from your forehead.

looking down at you, he can see how exhausted you really are, the fever taking a toll on your body. but his focus quickly shifts to the crib where juno is starting to cry again, her hunger growing stronger.

rafe watches you for a moment, concerned. the feeling of your skin under his touch tells him how high your fever really is. he glances over at the crib, juno’s cries growing louder.

"stay right here," he instructs you firmly. "i’ll feed our baby, then i’m coming back to check on you."

with a sigh, rafe picks juno up from the crib and brings her to the kitchen. he goes through the motions of preparing a bottle for juno, mixing the formula with warm water and shaking it gently until it's ready. he then sits down next to your bed, leaning back against the headboard while he carefully feeds juno the bottle.

his eyes occasionally flick to you, checking on your condition. even though he's busy feeding the baby, he keeps a watchful eye on you, noticing every shiver and every sign of discomfort in your sick state.

after a few minutes, juno is satisfied, her tiny belly full and content. she starts to drift off in rafe’s arms, her small eyes growing heavy.

he carefully passes the baby back to the crib and turns his attention back to you. he returns to your bedside and sits down, his eyes studying your pale and weary face. the sight of you in this state was devouring him from the inside.

your eyes flutter open. “rafe, take her to your house..” then you turn to the side, your back facing him.

rafe looks down at you, gently taking your hand in his own, it broke his heart a little. the fact that you're asking him to take juno now.

"baby," he murmurs, his voice gentle. "you’re still burning up. i can't just leave with juno while you're like this."

it was always like this with rafe. back then, whenever you didn’t want him to care for you, when you pushed him away, built your walls high, and told him you didn’t need him, he’d force it anyway. he had this annoying way of ignoring your protests, showing up when you least expected it with that hot stubborn determination in his eyes.

if you were sick, he’d be at your door with soup, even if he didn’t know how to make it. if you were upset, he’d sit next to you in silence, waiting until you caved. it didn’t matter how hard you tried to convince him you were fine; rafe never listened. he cared in the only way he knew how to care; recklessly, even when you swore you didn’t want him to. that part of him hasn’t changed at all.

“come on, she’s your only priority at the moment.” you try sending him away. his grip on your hand tightened a little at your words. “don't be fucking ridiculous," he retorts, his voice stern. "juno will be fine with me at my house. but you're not. you’re sick and need rest and care. i’m not just gonna abandon you like this. not happening."

“you don’t have to stay anyway… you’re not my husband or boyfriend or anything. you’re just her dad.”

rafe bites down at your words. he knows he’s nothing more to you than juno’s dad, but hearing you say it so bluntly still stings.

“no, i’m not your husband or boyfriend,” he replies, his tone sharper than intended. “but damn it, i still care about you, even if you don’t want me to.”

before you can respond, a shiver racks your body, your fever making you tremble. rafe notices immediately, his frustration giving way to concern.

“jesus, you’re burning up,” he mutters, leaning closer to place the back of his hand on your forehead. “why didn’t you tell me you were this bad?” he doesn’t wait for an answer. standing up, he moves to the kitchen, returning with a cool cloth. he gently presses it against your forehead, his jaw tight with worry.

“you’re in no condition to be alone right now,” he says firmly. “especially not with a fever this high. you need someone to take care of you, whether you like it or not.”

“take her,” you whisper, your voice weak. “i can take care of myself. you don’t have to do both.”

“damn it, will you just listen to me for once?” rafe snaps, his voice low but laced with irritation. “you’re not fine. you’re barely holding it together, and you want me to just walk away? why are you so goddamn stubborn?”

“i don’t need your help,” you insist, glaring at him weakly. “just watch juno. that’s all.”

rafe exhales sharply, trying to keep his temper in check.

“what’s it gonna take for you to get it through your head that you need support too?” he demands. “i care about both you and juno, you idiot. why can’t you just let me help you when you clearly need it?”

“and why does this concern you?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. his eyes narrow at your question, frustration bubbling over again.

“why do you think it concerns me?” he bites out, his voice rough. “you really have to ask that? you think i don’t care about you? you think i only see you as juno’s mom?”

you manage a breathy smirk, too weak to move but pleased nonetheless. “i knew it… son of a bitch.”

“knew what?” he challenges, his tone sharp. “that i actually give a damn about you more than you think? if you know, then why are you still fighting me on this? why are you so damn stubborn about letting me help?”

your smirk stays on your face, though your eyelids are already drooping from exhaustion.

“yeah, i care about you,” he admits, his voice quieter now. “you drive me absolutely fucking insane with how stubborn you are, but i still care. happy now?”

when you don’t respond, too tired to argue anymore, he shakes his head and adjusts the cool cloth on your forehead.

“i’m not leaving,” he says, and there’s no point in arguing. “someone has to take care of you since you clearly can’t be trusted to do it yourself.”

the room feels smaller with him in it, like his presence is closing in on you from all sides. he settles next to you, the mattress dipping slightly, and it’s awkward, too close for comfort, too familiar for what you are now. exes. nothing more.

“you’re gonna get sick,” you mumble, your voice scratchy and weak. “you don’t have to do this.”

“don’t care,” he says, not even looking at you. his voice is calm, steady. “you’re burning up. if i get sick, so what?”

you try to sit up, even though your body feels like it’s made of lead and your head pounds with every slight movement. the fever’s still got you in its grip, but lying there next to rafe feels like too much. too intimate. too close.

but the second you push yourself up, the world tilts. your balance wavers, and before you can steady yourself, your head drops against something solid.

his shoulder.

rafe lets out an annoyed sigh as he watches you struggle to get up, knowing full well that you're too weak to stand on your own.

"damn it, woman," he mutters as you collapse back onto him. "what did I tell you? you’re supposed to be resting, not trying to get up and walk around like a lunatic."

he gently wraps his arm around you, supporting your weakened body against him.

"just stay still and don't move," he whispers. "you’re in no condition to be up and about. you need to rest and recover. you know i’ll take care of you, right? stop trying to do everything on your own."

rafe gently runs his fingers through your hair, his touch light and soothing.

your hand finds its way to rafe’s arm, fingers gripping him weakly, as if holding on to him will keep you steady. rafe freezes at the touch, his gaze dropping to where your hand rests against his skin. it’s a simple gesture, but it feels like everything all at once.

he doesn’t pull away. instead, he shifts slightly, his own hand coming up to gently squeeze yours, his grip warm and steady, like he’s anchoring you.

“you’ll get better,” he murmurs. “just give it time and let yourself rest. let me look after you for once, okay?”

you think about the way things used to be. sneaking off when you had the chance, meeting him at the beach under the cover of darkness. stolen kisses, the kind that made your heart race. rafe was always the one who pushed boundaries, the one who made you feel alive in ways you hadn’t thought possible.

“are you sleeping over?” you ask weakly, your voice barely above a whisper.

rafe looks down at you, the question pulling him out of his thoughts. he takes in your pale face, the tired lines around your eyes, and sighs. part of him wants to say no, to avoid whatever this is turning into, but he knows he can’t leave you like this.

“yeah,” he says finally, his tone gentle but firm. “yeah, i’m sleeping here. someone needs to keep an eye on your stubborn ass so you don’t try to do chores at three in the morning.”

you let out a weak laugh, but it fades quickly. “you shouldn’t be here,” you mutter, shaking your head slightly. “it’s—it’s awkward. it’ll just make things weird.”

rafe arches a brow, his lips twitching into something between a smirk and a frown. “why are you acting like something’s gonna happen between us?” he counters, his tone light but laced with something deeper. “it’s fine. stop overthinking it and just… lay down. you’re not gonna win this argument.”

before you can protest, he gently guides you back down, his hand steady at your back. the warmth of his body against yours is impossible to ignore, but you’re too drained to fight it.

then, out of nowhere, he leans down and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. the gesture is so tender it takes your breath away, but you’re too tired to react.

as your eyelids grow heavier, your mind drifts back to the first time rafe said he loved you. it wasn’t in a quiet, romantic moment, it was in the middle of an argument. his voice had been loud, angry and raw, but it was real. rafe always let things spill out when he couldn’t hold them back anymore.

now, as sleep pulls you under, you hear his voice again, quieter this time.

“i miss you,” he whispers.

you don’t respond. maybe you’re too far gone, maybe you don’t want to. but maybe you miss him too.

[losersiren]

𝓨𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓛𝓸𝓻𝓭

"𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝑜����, 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒶 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒.” CW: Fem reader (she/her), possessiveness, suggestive Note: This is my first time writing something like this and posting it...go easy on me o(>< )o

The chandlers decorated the ceiling above the spacious ballroom, giving a gentle glow to the people filling said ballroom. The social season has just started to blossom, giving men and women room to court each other if one is blessed with the opportunity for such an experience. Catching the eye of a reliable suitor is quite troublesome– most of the men here do not fit any of your requirements, and if they did, they would suddenly be caught in a scandal of sorts, causing them to be an outcast. Not a good look on you or your family name.

You idly toy with the fan in your hand, your gaze sweeping over the sea of faces in the room. The task at hand feels insurmountable, and finding a suitable suitor in this town is daunting. Perhaps, you muse, debuting late was a misstep, a decision that now seems to mock you. You could always become a spinster…and ruin your reputation and lineage because you choose such an idiotic choice… regrettably it may be the easier option. 

“Pray tell why you’re glued to this corner as if you’re some wallflower,” A witty baritone voice whispers in your ear, the hairs of your neck standing upright while a cold shiver runs down your spine.

The sense of familiarity washes over you, and the resentment still lingers from years ago makes its way forward. The Earl’s son, your childhood close friend, who left you without a word after he said he’d be there for you.

What a bastard

“Have you ever heard of personal space? Or have you forgotten the amount of lectures your mother ingrained into your head on etiquette when you were just a brat?” You bite back with venom coating every word you spit out. You place your fan on your left ear.

”Ah, I see.” He steps back and gives you space. “You’ve become cold-hearted towards me since my departure overseas. I was only gone for a mere moment.” He switches his position from behind you to in front of you. He takes up your whole vision, his maturity, more evident now since the last time you saw him as a juvenile boy. It's been a few years, hasn't it? Yet he still has his teasing nature; no boarding school or amount of lectures can take that away from him. He bows a little lower than he should, his right hand to the opposite shoulder and his left arm behind his back. He looks up at you with those oh-so-regretful grey eyes. “I wholeheartedly apologize for departing overseas in such an impulsive matter without even notifying you in any way. I should’ve sent you letters and a hoard of messenger doves to accompany you”. “But I did not, and for that, my Lady, I've made a significant sin in your eyes– I do not deserve your forgiveness, but oh, if you could grant me such a pleasure.”

His voice is as quiet and soft as a starving mouse stealing food from a kitchen, careful for only your ears to pick up his pleas for forgiveness. Just as though you were a goddess punishing him, which he should be reprimanded tenfold in his eyes, who was he to abandon you without a trace? Though the situation before was entirely out of his hands, he didn’t want to go to that goddamned private school that was away from you; he fought tooth and nail not to go. Every house servant had to push and hold him down because he kept fighting; even his family members were victims of his wrath. His father, The Earl, still has fading scars from that night years ago.

He should’ve fought harder for you.

People around you start noticing; who wouldn’t? One of the most prestigious Earls of this country’s only son is bowing dishonourably low, borderline grovelling like a peasant caught stealing a measly loaf of bread. You feel eyes turning onto you, women whispering between their fans to one another, wondering in what predicament the next-in-line Earl would be for him to be embarrassingly bowing to a one-of-a-mill daughter of a viscount—a rank lower than him and a woman at that; your fan placement is not making it look better. Immediately change the position of your fan from your left ear to twirling it in your left hand, hoping he understands the situation he has put not only him but you in.

 He only smiles in return. “Stand straight; You look like a fool.” You hiss, “Do I have your forgiveness, Darling?” a scoff escapes your mouth. “That is either here or there! Be proper. Others are watching.” That doesnt deter him, nor does he care about them. “So my apology wasn't sufficient? Since you are thinking about everyone else but me.” More eyes make their way onto the pair of you, and whispers grow with the exchange of gossip. “You’re acting like a child-” He cuts you off. “Shall I go on my knees for you? I mean, I wouldn’t mind, but preferably, I would love to be in a more…secluded environment.” A smirk graces his lips at the thought. “Or shall I kiss your feet-” 

“You are a soon-to-be- Earl! Has that school taught you nothing? God, you’ve become more insufferable, I swear.” Your face feels warmer now, and embarrassment takes over you from his childish yet sincere teasing.

The young lord’s eyes fixated on you, on your lips, how your dress accentuates your already perfect self, your hands, oh, how he wishes to feel them against his. The years it's been since he saw you, he could listen to you scold him for hours on end; it doesn’t matter what you are saying. Just hearing your voice is enough. God knows it's been too long since he’s been deprived of you. He thanks his past self for sabotaging whatever male decided to even think of courting you. Though he was far away, his social standing never changed.

The lord decided by the second month he was away from you to pay his old servants to send him as much information as possible on the vermins that would try to nestle their way into your life. He would…No, he has ruined anyone who wanted to get in between you two. And he’ll keep it that way. You’ve stolen his heart since meeting him as a lad.

“So you wish for me to kneel? As you wish.” He starts to kneel; gasps can be heard. But you stop him, holding his shoulders upright; his eyes widen as you touch him.

You’re so close

“I forgive you…I forgive you…”

“I forgive you, Ambrose…”

Oh…

His name on your tongue….

His mind blanks. Has he gone to heaven? Oh, you sweet angel, you have him wrapped around your finger. And he wouldn’t want it any other way.

His smile is blinding as he stands and looks down at you.

“Then now that's settled…May I have the honour of a dance with yours truly?”

.." Or shall I beg more?"

End Notes: Fun fact (not really): I based most of this post on The Regency era, and that includes fan language! That is why I described the readers' actions with it. Placing the fan on your left ear means "I wish to get rid of you." Twirling the fan with your left hand means "We are watched." Thought that would be something fun to add (^.^)

[weirdmageddon]

i love these tags this person is so right

actually, can you imagine if dave was raised by B1 roxy?

i wanna get into this actually

(ok i had to spend a few hours rewriting this because IT DIDNT FUCKING SAVE AFTER FIVE HOURS OF WRITING WHEN MY COMPUTER UPDATED WHILE I WAS AFK so it would mean a lot to show this post some appreciation. i LOVEEE hearing what other people have to say)

even though these things mom does are presented in an extravagant, kitsch, jokey way, her intentions always came from a place of sincerity. she is simply Funnie

but rose reads too far into it and assumes things that aren't there, that her mother is passive-aggressively feigning interest in rose's interests simply because the things she does are so extra. "why do all of this if not to mock me"

im telling you right now if dave lived in this household he wouldn't assume antagonism, he'd go,

don’t forget who LITERALLY patented tangible jpeg artifacts as their post-scratch adult self and scattered shitty scummed up statue of liberties all over the planet. theres no way some of that overboard artful shit wasnt post-ironic / circling back around to genuine funny sincerity

dave's natural state is funny sincerity like roxy. he's had the natural capacity for this type of humor from the start and this is the direction he goes towards when he grows out of his brother's shadow by the end of the comic. dave and roxy share an earnest “so bad its good” type of humor

(lots more under the cut; the length of this meta analysis just got unwieldly with all the pictures and whatnot)

despite the alcoholism, roxy is a supportive mother. she's not the ideal guardian but hells of a lot more supportive of her kid than bro is. if she knew dave's interests she would totally indulge in them with some over the top silly goofy haha shit as a genuine gesture simply because she loves him

rose isn't too keen on it though. but she is more similar to dirk in her natural state of thinking of overthinking shit and assuming the worst, like the tags said

and yes dave got the sweet cuddly yet sometimes backhanded ouppy gene from roxy, probably even moreso lol

roxy's even said rose "sounds like girl dirk"

side tangent here, but this is something i wanna talk about.

i dont think bro should ever be in custody of children ever but if theres anyone who would be up to the task it's rose probably. i know she'd be able to keep up with him. not only does she have a defined personality (dave is more malleable and absorbs his environment like a sponge), if anyone can pick apart B1 dirk's batshit brain and probably be right on the money it's her. lil cal has been pumping patriarchal nonsense into bro's head and rose would be able to bring the fucking facts to the table without losing her own and being a living example of a badass little girl. i also don't think bro would try to force masculine roles onto rose like he did with dave, seeing as she is a girl, so she would actually have more of a leg up and get some passes that dave was never afforded. and rose wouldn't stand idly and accept any bullshit; she is no doormat. and i think this would earn bro's respect

but anyway, from this, couldn't we conclude roxy "sounds like girl dave"?

yeah okay. we havent even gotten into their penchant for funny typos or misspeaks, deliberate or otherwise

so, dave's environment

the sentiment "god you hope you can be as good as your bro at this some day" might have been genuine at the time when he idolized bro but of course he's not able to express that in any sort of sincere fashion because he's in dirk's fucking household. and this level 10 irony shit isnt doing dave any favors

his role models were the Internet and a vague idea of what Bro was like. So he built up his facade based on irony–not the literary definition of irony, as Rose might be quick to point out, but a popular concept of irony based on the idea that things that didn’t make sense actually made sense in some roundabout way. As a master of irony, Dave probably reasoned, he could see in a way other people couldn’t why a world that was scary and didn’t make sense really did make sense, and could therefore convince those people that he was superior to them. And he would wield his knowledge to maintain the appearance of superiority by calling everything ironic and pretending he didn’t care about things that didn’t make sense, and he would use walls of vaguely rhyming words to keep everyone at arm’s length so they wouldn’t discover his insecurities (source)

roxy's style is the embodiment of post-irony. being raised by mom lalonde would be like being raised by joel vinesauce ok

what can i say ….. (getting meta about this actually, hussie got these jpeg wizard wallpapers from a spyware website. link takes some time to load because internet archive)

rose is quick to read post-irony as actually being a joke/insincere, which in bro's case would be true. but i believe dave's natural instinct, outside of the influence of bro, is to read post-irony as genuine, which is exactly how mom serves it. we see this as early as act 3 from him; he understands her motives better than rose does herself:

and in act 6 intermission 2 i think it's pretty clear

but the thing is, it's always genuine from her. dave wouldn't have to second guess it because he's not one to naturally second guess someone's sincerity; that was learned due to his bro being virtually unassailable

there two types of ironies at play here:

seems like a joke, is actually genuine (roxy)

doesnt seem like a joke, is actually a joke (dirk)

you can make the argument that the second is is more psychologically destructive because it makes you question the reality of what is genuine sentiment and what isn't. dave never knew what was genuine and what was irony so he just sort of existed in this sincerity-ironic limbo and always did the opposite of what he genuinely felt on principle even if it always did originate from a genuine place.

"it just a joke bro i was just being ironic i dont actually x" is so much more trust-breaking and psychologically damaging than "wait are you being serious" / "i am being so fucking fr rn davy gravy" / "ok thats actually pretty fucking awesome. giant ass wizard statue" / "RIGHT"

how much about dave would change do you think? his character arc would be completely different for one thing, i think he'd have it good aside from mom's alcohol issues. he'd be left with the sweet and funny parts of him that we see at the end of the comic. the fake coolguy stuff is out, but this remains. this is dave in his element and we see it as early as act 1

he'd probably have no shades growing up in the lalonde residence* either cause those were given to him by bro straight out of the crater as an extension of his own cool image. and john gave dave ben stiller’s aviators for his 13th birthday to replace them so he could “spread his wings”

dave said he was wearing them for the ironies but i kind of doubt it. maybe post-irony but there was some reacharound to it being genuine because dave never put those pointy anime shades on his face again.

*though... it’s kind of hard to imagine him without his shades at all? B2 dave still got stiller’s shades from stiller himself so maybe getting them is a universal constant. i can imagine mom getting him them as a birthday gift cause shes pretty wealthy and probably could buy it out in an auction. but also itd be cool if john still gave him it as a gift

dave is actually a lot more genuine and easy to read than he lets on even when grappling with his upbringing with B1 dirk (again, see this post). this can be seen all throughout he comic but a good example is the evolution of thoughts about his interest in the preserved dead things in his room:

if B1 roxy was dave's guardian he probably WOULD have pursued paleontology because she wouldve indulged him in it and probably find it cool and worthwhile to pursue, instead of allowing dave to flounder under ironic detachment, being poisoned by irony to the point of gaslighting himself into believing he doesnt actually believe he thinks this shit is cool. even if it was indulged in this such a way; a superficially kitsch and ironic appearing presentation, it comes from a genuine place and inspires genuine interest. just read the comments.

basically, i think if B1 roxy raised dave, their relationship would have a surface level appearance of being bizarre or over-the-top but they’d have an unsaid mutual understanding that it’s completely in earnest and just build on each other's funny and absurd gestures of affection. rather than seeing it as one-upping each other, it'd more like collaboration of some silly bullshit that you take a step back and look at full and just say, "fucking incredible"

speaking of paleontology, mom had the proto-ectobiology lab. maybe they'd be able to use the equipment to appearify paradox ghost imprints of the dead shit to create paradox clones of things from the cambrian era??? sounds like a fun mother son bonding activity. and theyd actually put the sciencey shit in the household to use

oh god i know exactly the kinds of music shed listen too also growing up as a teen in the 80s. she on that (post)-punk/art rock/new wave/new romantic mtv stuff. XTC shit fr. this is a B-52S HOUSEHOLD. maybe the associates for the campy melodramatic flair. so he gets to keep the record on his shirt cause he is an enjoyer of the shit in her vinyl collection. dave would still gravitate towards musical expression and music itself but of more variety outside of just rap, with an 80s-90s, even 70s flavor due to mom’s influence. see this for perhaps a glimpse. ​she probably visited new york city a lot for business trips and because the music scene was cool as hell around that time, imports came straight from jfk airport, she probably got in on that a bit and have remnants in the form of vinyls and cassettes. in this way she could be distributing void to dave (influencing him with forgotten / presently irrelevant music). now he can REALLY rave about bands none of his friends have heard of. “hey davy grvay watcha listenin to” (he holds up vinyl cover) “omg snakefinger”

btw dave lalonde would look like this to me

[nervoushottee]

With Want | Paul Atreides x Fem!Reader

Summary: Paul Atreides always had dreams. But from the very beginning, there was an invisible string pulling him to you.

Warnings: (MDNI 18+) Reader's secret name is Nuri, Set in Dune Part 2 , fingering, soulmate/destined pairing, shitty understanding of the Dune universe (only watched the first Dune move and only half of Dune part 2 whoopsie so I'm probably butchering some of the lore or whatever. Its fanfiction babes, I'm not writing this for accuracy),

Note: Hey hottees!! Y'all I'm not even finish watching Dune 2 and I started writing this. Timothee was doing something to me in this movieeee. Hope y'all enjoy!

*not edited at all babes*

---- ---- ----- ----

Paul Atreides had dreams. Both enchanting and horrifying dreams that would eat away at his mind and soul. And from the very beginning, he had always felt this small pull of a feeling. 

It was weirder than his dreams because even when he woke, he still felt it. Like it was a small tether, a light string in his heart and soul that hummed so softly. A light that was so dim that you would have to squint to see. 

After everything that happened with his father and being forced out of his home. The Fremen people found him and his mother. And that feeling grew stronger. He thought it was about the sayings of what his mother, the Bene Gesserit, would tell him but it felt more than that. 

It was odd, he could never see what it was in his dreams, or hear whispers of it like a name. But it was always that same enchanting feeling. So when Paul followed the Fremens, it continued to grow. By the time they walked deeper into the caves, it went from a strong pull to an overwhelming presence. 

And that’s when he saw you. 

“Who is she?” Paul asks Chani. The young woman already knew who Paul was asking for before she turned her head. A small smile engulfs on her face. “Nuri.”

Nuri.

Paul repeats your name to understand the feeling on his tongue. He hadn’t seen you before. Or maybe he did, he wasn’t too sure. The Fremen people covered their faces from the desert and a lot from what he was learning.

‘She moves like the wind.’ Paul says to himself as he watches you glide through the crowded room. Paul’s eyes meet yours briefly. Yours blue from your sclera to your irises. You stop moving through the crowd to stare at him. 

That feeling buzzed around him, stronger than ever within Paul as his eyes never leaving  yours. Your lips slowly turn up into a smile. Your eyes move towards Chani who still stands next to him, nodding in acknowledgement. Chani repeats the same gesture with a smile on her face, your gaze lingers back on Paul before a group of people walk in front of Paul’s view of you. By the time the people separate. You were gone. And the feeling suddenly fades from a sharp intensity to a dull buzz. 

“You should be careful around her Outworlder.” Chani says to him in a low tone as the common area starts to get a bit busy with people. The two of them sit down on a blanket as other where for food. 

“Was she with the group when you found me and my mother?” Paul asks, dodging the statement his acquaintance gave him. 

Chani shakes her head, chewing her food before speaking, “No. She doesn’t come with us all the time.”That intrigued Paul. He turns himself fully towards Chani, his bowl of food mixed with spice long forgotten . “So is she not a fighter?” 

“She is.” Chani says between chews, ”But she also walks with the Sayyadina.”

The Sayyadina. The Fremen’s Reverend Mother. 

“From what I’ve been told, her family was killed just after she was born. Stilgar took it upon himself to look after her. As she grew, the Sayyadina felt something within her. So Stilgar gave them the authority to let her walk with them. She is truly a great fighter, so when we need good fighters she will come with us when necessary. If not, she stays.” Chani continues. 

“A fighter and one that walks with the Sayyadina? Is that possible?” Paul questions. 

“To a nonbeliever? No. But to those who do? Yes. Stilgar believes in the old ways and in the faith. The Lisan al Gaib.” She says to him in a taunting tone which causes Paul to avert his eyes. The moment they came in, some shouted hatred towards him and his mother but others screamed in rejoice, calling him The Lisan al Gaib.

“Our people follow behind him, he is a good leader and his judgment is almost always right and trustworthy.” Chani finishes. 

Paul sits with the information he tells her, his hands slowly dipping in his bowl to start eating the food that was cold to touch but warm against his tongue. The heat of the spice warms his insides as it goes down his throat. “And what about you? What do you believe?”

”I don’t believe that you’re the Lisan al Gaib, that's for sure.” She chuckles. Paul feels his cheeks flush in embarrassment but urges her to continue. “I believe in our people. And she is a part of our people. And if she plays some part in whatever faith stories then so be it. But she has never faltered in training. She has never failed in the dessert and she is a good friend. She believes in our people as much as I do.”

After the words Chani said, Paul felt that she was over talking about you, more hungry and interested in the spice beneath her fingers. So Paul didn’t ask anymore. He ate his food in silence but his mind was racing with the thoughts of you. 

—— —— —— ——

The day had turned into night. Stilgar showed him and his mother the small room for them to sleep in for the time being until their fate was decided. A lot of them didn’t trust him and his mother, and for that Paul understood. 

His dreams woke him in the late night. Lifting his head from the makeshift pillow, he looks over to his mother who is still sound asleep. Her hand was placed on her lower stomach. 

‘Rest easy sister, I will be back.’ He says in his head before getting up and quietly leaving the room.

The caves are quiet at night. Besides from the guards that linger within the open spaces to protect those who rest. Paul doesn’t think it’s necessary but he avoids walking around where they are. Just in case to not stir any trouble. The people were calm at the moment since their fates were going to be decided soon enough. 

He walks to the small body of water his mother had told him about. The scared waters of the Fremens. The waters they would never touch. He sat there for a while. Enjoying the stilllness in the air and the calm look of the water. It reminded him of home. “I miss you father. I will take care of mother and sister.” He says to himself quietly. 

He wants to cry but reminds himself to save his water. “Don’t waste your tears on the dead” from what Stilgar told his mother. 

Paul sat still for a moment longer before he felt that pull again. That invisible string strong and tight as it pulls him to his feet. He absentmindedly walks into a dimly let hallway, his pulse quickening against his neck. His heat beating erratically against his chest as he turns the corner to see you. “You’re Nuri.” Paul states.

“You shouldn’t be out at night Paul Atriedes.” You say to him, your back towards him but he can hear the teasing smile within your words.

“I couldn’t sleep.” Paul explains to you simply, “And I made sure to walk where the guards can not see me.” The feeling nearly suffocates him as he walks toward you. 

“Ah.” You turn towards him, you’re dressed in almost the same comfortable linens as him. His a tan brown color and yours an off white. “You and your dreams.”

How did you know about that? He questions in his head, unconsciously taking another step towards you. You both now at arms length.

“I see you in my dreams.” Paul lies. 

“Do you?” You ask back, your tone sounds as if you know he’s lying. 

“No but I can feel you. In my dreams and out. And I don’t know what it is or what it means.” He explains. 

You hum in satisfaction as you slowly walk around him. Like a beast or a predator trapping its prey. “And what do you feel now?” 

He feels like his body is vibrating, His skin tingling and his veins jumping. His fingers buzzing as if he wants to reach out and touch you. He does what to touch you, he wants to feel your skin on his. “What do you feel?” Paul asks the question back to you.

You stop walking to stand behind him. The hairs on his neck stick out as he feels your body heat near him. Your lips slowly grazing his ear making his eyes flutter close. 

What the hell is happening to him?

“I feel like the spice on my tongue. I feel like the sand beneath my feet. I feel like the beauty you see in your dreams. I can feel you.” You whisper against him. 

Paul turns around to you, your bodies closer than ever. His lips inches towards yours as his flickers between your eyes and your lips. 

“You speak in tongues.” Paul whispers to you desperately.

“Shall I tell you in a way you understand?” You whisper against his lips. 

“Yes please.” he begs softly. 

And you don’t hesitate to put your lips on his. Paul moving quickly as his hands clasp softly against your cheeks. Moaning in the delight as he feels your hands glide against his chest, gripping his shirt. 

He feels you everywhere, but it isn’t overwhelming anymore. Now that he’s holding you and tasting you, your tongue glides against his. He feels a wave of warmth wash over him as his body and soul settle into the feeling of you. 

So warm and inviting. So enticing and serene. 

You push him towards a dark hidden spot in the hallway. Your bodies are engulfed in darkness but when you break apart for air, you can see him all the same. Paul moves you toward the wall, his body trapping you in as he kisses your neck. 

“I’ve dreamt of you, Paul Atreides. I’ve seen you in my dreams, felt you lingering in my mind, heart and soul.” You say to him breathly. Moaning quietly as you feel his tongue glide against your neck. Your guide his hand to touch your breast, causing Paul to move away from your neck and look into your eyes. 

‘So beautiful.’ Paul thought. He brings his other hand on your cheek and kisses you hungrily. Squeezing your breast, feeling the weight of it in the palm of his hand.His hand glides to let your nipple slip in between his fingers as he squeezes.“I want to dream of you. I want to see you in my dreams, want to hear your voice call my name.” he mutters to you in between kisses.

When you break away from his kiss, Paul starts to ask what’s wrong until he feels your hand on his and glides it up to your lips. You kiss his fingers individually as he stares at you in adoration and desire. You slowly slip his middle and ring finger into your mouth causing Paul to groan. His hips shifting upwards against you as he feels the wetness of your warm tongue glide against his fingers. He watches as you pull his fingers out of your mouth, his digits glistening wet. Your hands glide his now wet ones down and underneath your linen pants.

“Touch me and you will see me.” 

He lets his hand glide against you as is greeted by your wetness, causing you both to moan out in pleasure. You are sinking deeper into the wall and Paul sinking deeper into you. His fingers continue to glide there experimentally as you pull him back for a kiss. “Help me see.” Paul mutters desperately against you

. 

Your hands reach down in your lines to move his hand into the position you need for him to make you feel good. You mimic a small circular rotation with your fingers on the back of his hand that was still against you. Once Paul understands, he begins to move his fingers in the motion you instructed, making you moan against his lips. 

He pulls away to watch you. You looked more ethereal than any other being or spirit that was believed in all of Arrakis. Your head back against the mountain wall, your lips slightly open as you moan. Your hips moving against his fingers as if you’re chasing for pressure. Paul dips his head in the corner of your neck and kisses it feverishly as he applies more pressure in his movements. Causing you to hold on to shoulder and call out his name. Oh how he wanted you to say his name again.

Feeling a little confident he glides his fingers down, but keeps his them pressed against your swollen bud. He pushes his middle finger inside of you causing you to gasp. You hold onto his shoulder gripping his shirt as you breathe heavily. You drag his head from your neck to kiss him. With his finger going in and out of you at an agonizing slow pace, you kiss him sloppily. But Paul doesn’t seem to mind, he enjoys it. Humming against you with a smile. 

When you feel his ring finger follow in for a second is when you lose it. “Paul!” you say loudly. 

His tongue mingles with yours as he silences your cries. With the slow circling of his thumb against your clit and the way he pushes his fingers into you makes you clench against him. “Fuck.” he moans. 

You whine as you feel your orgasm growing inside of you. The feeling you both shared with one another makes you feel even more on edge as you grip Paul in anyway you can. You rapidly as you feel yourself getting close. “Pau-Paul -” you begin to tell him as such but the building pleasure doesn’t get you far. Paul places his other hand against your cheek, tilting your head to look up at him. His eyes hooded and his cheeks flushed. You feel his thumb brush against your bottom lip. 

“Let me see you.” 

His words are the final push that sends you over the edge. Paul kissing you to silence your cries, you mewling against his lips as his fingers never stop their learned rhythm. You shiver against his fingers, your body tingly and warm. He kisses your face from your cheeks, to your eyelids and everywhere in between as he waits for you to come down from your high. He whispers your name, making you flutter your eyes open to see Paul stare at you with want. 

“Show me again.”

[ldrfanatic]

two worlds collided

theodore nott x fem!malfoy!ravenclaw!reader

a.n. this is quickly becoming a theo obsession blog BUT I am open to requests for others

love theo in this piece.

to be added to my theo nott taglist just comment on one of my theo nott posts :)

synopsis - you're draco's sister but you're a ravenclaw. your father shunned you because he thought that voldemort wouldn't want you but when Nott sr is trying to find theodore a bride your father takes this as the perfect opportunity. over time you grow to genuinely care for one another.

warning - cursing, lucius malfoy is a prick, hitting, borderline verbal abuse, arranged marriage

accompanying song - never tear us apart (bishop briggs)

works slytherin boys

"Father is asking for you."

Shock washed over you and you wondered if you submerged yourself into your cloud-like bed if Lucius would just forget about it. After carefully weighing your options, it seemed rather unlikely. You threw your navy covers to the side and shuffled awkwardly to the main dining hall where your mother, father, and older brother Draco were waiting.

Your eyes fell onto a rather scary looking man and another handsome figure who you recognized as Theodore Nott, one of Draco's friends.

"Daughter." The warm velvet tones of Narcissa Malfoy filled the air. After you'd been sorted into Ravenclaw, Draco and Lucius had shunned you. Narcissa had been the only person in the entire family still kind to you. Well, she and your estranged aunt Andromeda who you'd been secretly exchanging letters since third year.

"Now that the Dark Lord has gained strength, it is imperative that we maintain close connections within the Sacred 28." Lucius approached you, looking rather unhinged, and placed a large hand on your shoulder. There was a malicious look in his eyes that made the entire interaction all the more unnerving. "Once the Dark Lord begins his plans, he'll need people he can trust to continue the most important of magical bloodlines."

Your father took you by the shoulders and moved you to stand in front of Theodore and the mystery man at his side.

"This is Theodore Nott Sr. and his son, who I presume you know from school."

Nott Sr. glanced to the side at Theodore who snapped out of a sort of trance. He brought your hand up to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on it.

"Y/n."

You smiled but didn't say anything, waiting in silence for your father to elaborate. He and Nott Sr. had clearly formed some sort of plan. "You and his son are to be married."

"What?!" Your body whipped around of its own accord and you felt rage explode over your body. "You haven't spoken to me in years and suddenly you expect me to marry this man without even asking me if I wish to be married to him or anyone for that matter?!"

Lucius' hand came down suddenly. A loud 'whack' resounded in the room as the back of his palm made contact with your cheek. "You ungrateful little brat." He straightened his cloak and took what you supposed was meant to be a calming breath. "Draco noticed the way that you stared at the Nott boy in school. You ought to be more appreciative that I didn't choose that awful Pucey boy although he was more than willing."

Though you couldn't see, Theodore's nose turned up in disgust at the mention of Adrian Pucey. He'd taken a liking to you, completely undeterred by the elder Malfoy's numerous threats to stay away from his younger sister. Draco might've been appalled that you'd been sorted into Ravenclaw, but that didn't mean that he was gonna let that slimey tosser terrorize you.

Your gaze stayed on the floor for a few moments before you turned back around, muttering a small apology to Theodore and his father. Overall, Theo was quite handsome and you had stared at him more than a few times. He really was quite handsome.

Nott Sr. studied you for a few moments then turned to Theodore expectantly. "Why don't the two of you take a stroll and become acquainted while Lucius and I finish up the particulars." It was phrased like a question, but in truth he wasn't asking. The air was silent as you walked out of the room the brunette boy following diligently.

The cool air nipped at your exposed skin as the heavy oak door slammed shut behind you. It was always cold and dark in the area surrounding Malfoy Manor.

"I'm sorry Theodore."

"Theo."

You stared at Theodore like a fish out of water waiting for words of any intelligence to come to you. Finally, you stuttered out an ignorant 'Huh?'.

"Call me Theo."

Your heart beat loudly in you ears for a few moments. "Oh-kay," Theo began to mosey into the Manor gardens with you hot on his heels. He was quite tall and due to the length of his legs, every one step he took was nearly three of yours. "So Theo. I am sorry you got dragged into this."

"That's alright fiancée." Theo teased you with a smile that could make any girl weak in the knees. For a moment you felt as though you could almost forget that the both of you were being forced into this.

"Still. I know your reputation. I only ask that you keep your conquests separate from our entanglement."

An indescribable akin to hurt flashed in the eyes of the boy before you. As well as something you didn't quite recognize.

"My reputation?" You spluttered at him for a few moments once again making a fool of yourself in front of Theodore Nott.

"Theo I didn't mean to--"

"Whatever." He turned away from you and stalked angrily back towards the Manor, calling over his shoulder. "And it's Theodore."

The rest of the break passed by pretty miserably, as expected. You and Theodore had gone on a few dates, as demanded by both your father and Nott Sr. since the pair of you were courting now, but they were long and excruciating with little to no conversation.

Despite a summer that seemed as though it would never end, September finally arrived.

You were boarding the train with Theodore and Draco as your parents watched on. They'd been keeping an extra close eye on the pair of you. In all honesty, you and Theodore hadn't grown any closer in your courtship than you'd been as distant acquaintances the year prior. If anything, the walk in the garden at the start of your relationship had forced you further apart.

And though you'd pretended you didn't care, seeing Theodore with other girls was never something you'd enjoyed. Now, knowing that he'd be your husband sooner rather than later, the thought of Theo running around with some daft blonde Slytherin made your heart sink to your stomach.

Yet, as the year progressed, you and the rest of Hogwarts were unexpectedly surprised by Theo. Before you knew it, the first snowfall graced Hogwarts in November, and Theodore hadn't had any flings with any girls. He was even turning down girls that had been brave enough to approach him and make the first move.

Without your parents to keep the two of you tightly bound, you and Theodore hadn't spoken since the train in.

Through all of this, you hadn't expected to become close friends with Pansy Parkinson, a Slytherin girl in Theo and Draco's year. But she'd walked up to you during breakfast one morning and the two of you really hit it off.

Hence why currently, you were sat on Pansy's bed while she worked on her charms homework. And she was putting her absolute all into trying to convince you to ask Theo to Hogsmeade.

"C'mon Y/n! It might be fun."

"If by fun you mean he'll humiliate me in front of the entire student body." You mumbled under your breath. You tried to tune her out so as to focus on the book you were currently attempting to read, but she was determined.

"According to Blaise Theo's been talking about you when Draco isn't around to glare at him for it."

"Look Pans, I know you're in love with the bloke but have you considered that Blaise may be confused? Or simply taking the mickey?" Pansy shot you an unimpressed look. "Theo and I haven't spoken since September. In any case, if he's turning down long legged red heads who are all but stripping in front of him, what makes you think he'd want to go out with me?"

"Because he's already agreed to speak with you in the Slytherin Common Room tonight."

"What?!"

Pansy ignored your protests and damn near dragged you down to the common room with an iron grip on your wrist. When you got there, Theo was spread out on one of the expensive leather couches with a cigarette in between his lips. Yet as he noticed you approaching, he immediately dropped it and put it out with a stomp on the stone floors.

"Y/n."

The sonorous tones of Theo's voice bounced off each wall of the common room and seemed to warm you from the inside out. His voice was so inviting that you almost believed you could actually do this.

There is, however, one thing to know about Theodore Nott. No matter how inviting or pleasant Theo's aura is, you'd made a promise to yourself not to look him in the eyes. You knew that if you made the unfortunate mistake to look Theodore Nott in his malachite eyes, you'd lose all ability to think, speak, even breathe properly.

It wasn't until you saw his shoes enter your line of sight that you knew that he'd approached you at all. Worse, when his large hand found purchase under your chin and lifted your gaze to meet his, you knew that you were well and truly fucked.

In that most regrettable moment, you realized how much you'd fallen in love with Theodore. During shared hushed dates and the rare moments of laughter. Theodore Nott had completely enraptured you. And you realized much too late to do anything about it.

So now here you stood. Lost in the beautiful blues and greens of your fiancée's eyes. You were completely, 100% at Theodore Nott's mercy. And likely not for the last time in your life, you felt the urge to give into him. He was a sin that you'd willingly drown in.

"Bellisima," Theo's voice thickened as he spoke. You couldn't understand what he was saying nor could you place the language. But in all honesty, you hadn't known that he even spoke any other languages. His tongue wrapped effortlessly around each syllable and his voice deepened even more than usual, if possible. "I asked you a question."

"Huh?"

"You've been avoiding me." He stepped closer and your heartbeat spiked. "Why?"

Why had you been ignoring Theo again? How could you, or anyone for that matter, ever dream of not giving this devastatingly handsome man everything he desired and more? Oh yeah. Your wretched father.

"You've already been roped into entrapment with me and then forced to hang out with me all summer. I didn't want to cause anymore turmoil to your peace than I already have."

Theo's lips pursed and his eyes narrowed. Once again you'd gone and offended the poor boy.

Immediately, you opened your mouth to apologize, but he cut you off.

"D'you know for a Ravenclaw, you really can be rather thick sometimes?"

You felt your jaw drop in shock. The small grin he currently sported on his face let you know that he'd obviously been teasing. And for the umpteenth time since knowing him, Theo stole your breath with his stupid mesmerizing smile.

Yet, through all of that, he was right. You genuinely had no idea what he was talking about. After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Theo finally seemed to get the hint that he was going to have to spell this out for you.

"I know you probably don't know this about me, but I never do anything that I don't want to. No matter who's asking."

You continued to stare at him blankly. Had he hit his head during the last quidditch match?

Theo ran a hand stressfully through his hair. He grabbed your wrist and led you back to the couches where you settled comfortably in the seat next to him, careful to maintain a respectful distance. "Merlin, Y/n. Turns out you Malfoy's are all slow."

"No offense." He added on quickly when he saw the look on your face. "That's not the point. Y/n I never would have agreed to this engagement with you if I didn't actually want to. I know that you did not get a say in the matter so if you truly wish to live our lives separately, I will respect your choice." Theo gently pulled your hand until it was safely tucked in between both of his larger ones.

"But whatever your decision, know that I am yours. I have wanted nothing more in the past few months than to be by your side. And every moment I spend without you is inexplicable torture for my soul."

"Theo."

He shook his head and cradled you face between his palms.

"No. My mother had a saying. Lascia che la vita accada. It means 'let life happen'. She believed that the only way to truly know if something is meant for you is to let life make it happen on its own. So take a few days. I'll meet you Saturday morning in the Great Hall. But know that if you agree to be mine, Tesoro, you'll be mine for eternity."

To say that staying away from Theo in the days following was easy would be a complete and total lie. When you told Pansy about the conversation the pair of you had (or lack thereof really) she'd all but exploded.

Finally, Saturday morning rolled around. You'd genuinely thought about all your options and you'd come to a decision. The only issue with Theo's plan is that Saturday was the infamous Gryffindor v Slytherin Quidditch match. The Great Hall was bustling in seas of only red or green. You were sporting a dark green jumper, a show of obvious support for the Slytherin team.

Those of your house that favored Gryffindor looked on at you with disdain as you stood from your bench and began making your way to the Slytherin table in search of Theo. He was one of Slytherin's chasers so trying to find him during such a hectic morning proved difficult.

As you walked up and down the table, a familiar figure appeared in front of you.

"Ahh Malfoy. I've been looking for you. I was wonderin' if you'd wear my jersey."

Before you had time to respond or even acknowledge the situation at all, Adrian Pucey had shoved his green and silver practice jersey into your arms. It was an incredibly common practice for girlfriends and boyfriends of Quidditch players to wear their partner's jerseys to their games for good luck.

The hall fell silent as the sound of glass breaking reverberated through the air. You looked to the source of the noise. Theo had stood so abruptly from his seat next to Blaise and Lorenzo that his entire breakfast went flying and ended up on the floor.

He was staring at you with clear ache in his eyes. Suddenly, he swung himself over the bench and stormed out of the room.

You threw Adrian's awful smelling jersey back at his face and ran frantically after Theo.

"Theo!" He ignored you and continued walking briskly even as you approached quickly on his heels. "Theodore please. Just let me explain."

"You don't owe me an explanation, dolcezza ragazza. You've made your choice."

"You've got it all wrong. That's not my decision. I don't want that." You cried out as tears brimmed your eyes. The thought of losing Theo because of Adrian Pucey was mournful.

"Hey, hey. Calma tesoro. Breathe." Theo's hands one again found their way to your face. He gently thumbed the tears from your face. "Don't get yourself all worked up. I'll always listen to you."

"Adrian he just sort of threw his disgusting jumper at me. I don't want him. I only want you. I'm yours, Theodore Nott, completely and without hesitation."

The grin on Theo's face was nothing short of heart-stopping.

"Does that mean you'll wear my jersey at the game today?"

wc 2.6k oops

4.17.24

-- taglist --

@thatdammchickennugget @moonlightreader649

[m0chis-cafe]

how i think diasomonia members would kiss you.. ⋆⑅˚₊

word count: 1.4 k

warnings: you sit between silvers leg (i dont think that counts as anything, but js in case yk)

characters: Malleus, Lilia, Silver, and Sebek

Malleus Draconia🐉

-will actually just sit there politely and look up at you wordlessly until you give him a kiss

-hes immortal.. of course, he has perfect skin and lips (its unfair)

-kisses your forehead a lot cause hes tall as shit, also your hands cause he's kinda old school

-he's also become custom to kissing your shoulder, he always find a way to lean on your shoulder

-a lot of shared kisses during your guys late night walks around campus

-though he doesnt mind PDA, its a minimum (otherwise sebek makes a fuse)

-the other third years and dorm members come to you if he's in a fit, he kinda only will listen to you

-a lot of people are afraid of him and don't get how you could be with him, in reality, he's just a big baby towards you and wouldn't hurt a fly

-even though he's one of the most powerful mages ever, you've never been afraid to be around him

it had been a long day of lessons, trein had announced a particularly hard exam that day and it was starting to get on your nerves. after tossing and turning in bed for a couple minutes you decided to walk around campus. glancing over to ensure that grim was still asleep you found him snoring loudly and mumbling under his breath in his sleep, 'tuna~'. you rolled your eyes at him before throwing on your dorm uniform and a blanket and walking out of ramshackle.

the night air nipped at your skin as you left the dorm, the creaking of the building was replaced by the gentle wind and silence of the outside. you wondered down the trails around campus, coming near diasomnia. you smiled as you felt him near, "hornton. i know your there.. come on out"

malleus came from the shadows, a small frown on his lips, "how do you always know it's me prefect?". you smiled at his questioning, wrapping your arms around his waist, "cause I just do.."

he smiled, wrapping his arms around your shoulder, leaning down a placing small kisses on the crown of your head, "you always know, my beloved.." he mumbled into your hairline. the rest of the hour was spent walking around campus, hand in hand, talking about your days and small kisses being passed back and forth in the comfort of the cold night.

Lilia Vanrough🦇

(im gonna start with this specific part your similar age to lilia, and followed him to Nightraven to be one of malleus caretakers)

-hes such a gentleman about it

-hes a fun mix of old-school and newer forms of affection

-likely kisses the back of your hand, the corners of your lips, or cheek

-loves to float upsidedown and kiss your cheek in from of silver or sebek and than just disappear

-is more private in front of normal dorm members, but always has a hand on your hip or waist

-often plays his games with you in the room next to him or on his lap as you casually work on homework or play games with him

-often helps him with diasomnia duties alongside him, helps ease the burden on his shoulders

-the students come to you and lilia instead of malleus most of the time, they see you as the parents of the dorm

-silver sees you both as his parents and calls you mother/father/parent (its precious)

you were sat in the living area of diasomnia with silver and sebek, aiding them in their alchemy homework. you sat cross-legged on the couch as they sat on the floor, their tucked under the table. you smiled as they finally got the lesson and wrote their own notes from your teachings.

after a while you felt a dip in the couch next to you, you smiled softly knowing who it was, "hello my love, how was the dorm leaders meeting?'. silver and sebek perked up as you spoke, not realizing his presence till you spoke up.

they both said their hellos, nodding before looking back to their work. you felt a kiss be placed on your cheek before looking at him. he looked stressed.. you took his hand in yours furrowing your eyebrows, "lilia, is everything alright?"

he finally nodded, his boyish grin returning to his lips as he leaned into your shoulder, "I'm doing much better now.." he raised your joined hands to his lips and pressed multiple kisses to the back of your hand.

Silver🗡️

-sleepy kisses>>>

-you always watch after him during his drowsy spells, and sometimes you end up falling asleep with him

-yall are very calm together, its very easy to be around him

-when he wakes up and find you watching over him hell kiss your face all over in gratitude

-his lips are so calmly soft, does that make any sence? i dont care

-often kisses your shoulder, neck, nose, and cheeks

-hes so soft, and always is so peaceful and gentle about it

-as being one of malleus retainers, your also often around malleus and along with that sebek and lilia (your all very close)

you made your way to the gardens in diasomnia, lilia had mentioned that silver went on a walk and hadn't been back for a while. knowing him he probably had a drowsy spell and fell asleep somewhere..

turning a corner on the trail you saw a whisp of silver hair behind a tree. walking to where the whisp was you croched down before silver, his eyes were closed, a calm expression on his face, and soft breaths leaving his mouth. you smiled at him, leaning forward and brushing his bangs from his face. you chuckled, pressing a small kiss to his cheek before you felt a hand close around your wrist and pull you down.

now sat between his legs you looked up and now saw his eyes beggining to open, "hello there little one.. have you come to bring me back?" you nodded, leaning into his chest. "lilia sent me to find you.. i assumed id find you out here"

he smiled, pressing multiple lazy kisses from your cheek to neck. "in a little.. lets just stay here for a bit.."

Sebek Zigvolt⚡️

-get so flustered but so excited at the same time

-you have to make a large majority of first moves (he literally screamed the first time you kissed him)

-raves about you to silver constantly, almost as much as he does malleus (we both know thats not true)

-he has slightly chapped lips, but its not bad, your chapstick wears off on him

-he trusts you to be close to malleus, feel blessed

-similar to silver, you becom every close to malleus and his retaners due to your constant proximity to sebek

-you all hang out with the first years a lot, and he always keeps an arma round your shoulder or waist because ace always fake flirts with you

-always places small and quick kisses on your cheek and head

-your the only person hes really quiet around lowkey

you were walking down the hall with ace and duece, just having left broom lessons. youd fallen off so many times it wasent even funny.. and ace wasent letting up. you shoved his shoulder as he made another joke about your clumsiness during class, "shut it ace! i normally do way better.. im off my game today." you mumbled.

he teased you about it being cause of sebek, that he was ;distracting' you, and just on que he popped out from around the corner, running to your side with a smile. he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and placed a kiss to your head, "i just passed treins exam with flying colors!" he shouted.

you rolled your eyes, lacing your hand in his that hung off your shoulder, "thats really good.. im proud seb" you spoke before glaring at ace to not saying anything about your preformance in brooms class.

"why are you glaring at ace..?" sebek questioned innocently, ace almost opened his mouth before you spun to the side and went on your tip toes to place a kiss on sebeks lips quickly, "dont listen to him, hes crazy." you mumbled before continuing to walk with duece. you both double over laughing as you heard sebek skreeching behind them.

[ponderingmoonlight]

kny men saving you

Pairings: Sanemi x reader; Obanai x reader; Rengoku x reader

Word Count: 3,1k

Warnings: near death experiences but your knights in shining armor have your back hehe, pure fluff in every part, there might be some spelling mistakes here and there, my heart is in pieces bc I deleted Rengoku's part and had to re-write it and now it's bad

Sanemi Shinazugawa

The moon hangs low tonight, its pale light pooling in the dark grooves of the forest. You always loved how tender the night looks when the full moon is out, especially during summer. It dapples your path, just barely enough to see the worn trail beneath your feet. Your sandals whisper against the ground as you clutch the heavy clay jar in your arms. It’s not far now - you know the stream is just a little farther ahead. The thought of your mother, feverish and frail in her bed, keeps you going despite the nervous twist in your stomach. You hate walking out here alone. Because even though the night looks peaceful, it certainly isn’t.

Those past nights, a lot of innocent people disappeared during night. The elders talk frequently about creatures called demons who lurk out in the shelter of the dark in order to take lives. Your mother was very clear when telling you more than once that you aren’t allowed to go outside when it’s dark, that you have to stay inside at all cost.

But does that include her being so sick that she’s barely able to move? You can’t just sit there and watch her suffer, right? You can’t just wait for something that might never happen-

A twig snaps in the distance.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat. It’s probably nothing - you hope it’s nothing. But the hair on the back of your neck stands on end, and the oppressive weight of the dark seems to grow heavier with each passing minute.

The stream, you remind yourself. Get the water. Get back home.

Then the smell hits you.

It’s foul, coppery and rancid, and so wrong that your guts turn. You stumble, the clay jar nearly slipping from your grip. You freeze. There’s something ahead. No, someone.

But the silhouette isn’t really human. Too tall. Limbs too long. The gleam of sharp teeth is the first thing you make out, the grin stretching across its distorted face.

Your legs refuse to move. The demon lunges.

A demon?

Is this…what your mother always talked about, what everyone at the village warned you about countless times? Demons really do exist, that demon right in front of you is the ultimate prove for that.

You won’t be able to tell anyone the truth, though. Those sharp teeth that draw closer and closer, aiming for your neck. This is how you’ll die. Alone in a forest like so many people before you. Tears start stinging in your eyes, your throat so tight that you can’t catch breath.

Before you can even scream, there’s a flash of silver and a roar that shakes the trees. It takes you a moment to register what’s happening - the demon is on the ground now, twitching and headless. The stench of blood intensifies, and you realize it’s not just the demon’s. Your knees wobble.

And then he’s there.

The man who killed it, a whirlwind of pale scars and wild hair, is in front of you before you can blink. His blade gleams in the moonlight, still dripping. His eyes, sharp and livid, pin you in place.

“What the hell are you doing out here?!”

The force of his voice slams into you like a physical blow. You flinch, the jar slipping from your arms and shattering against the ground.

“I-I was just-” you stammer, words tumbling over each other, but he doesn’t let you finish.

“Do you have a death wish?” he snaps, taking a step closer.

“Are you stupid or just suicidal? Do you know how many of those things are out here? You’re lucky that was only one!”

Tears sting at the corners of your eyes. You can’t even bring yourself to speak now, your throat tightening with every harsh word he throws at you.

Are you…crying? Sanemi’s eyes narrow, mouth opening to yell again, but something shifts in his expression when he sees the tears spill down your cheeks. Fuck, how is he supposed to scream when you’re looking at him like that?

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, his frustration palpable.

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath, looking away like he’s trying to calm himself.

“Shit. Stop crying.”

You hiccup, trying to stifle the sobs that threaten to bubble up. To his own surprise, he kneels down, so suddenly and close that it startles you. His hands hover awkwardly, like he’s not sure what to do with them. His voice, though still gruff, softens ever so slightly.

“Hey. I’m not gonna hurt you, alright? Just…stop crying already.”

You nod weakly, wiping at your face with trembling hands. He sighs again, this time more resigned.

“Look,” he grumbles, reaching out hesitantly,

“I didn’t mean to scare you. But you shouldn’t be out here. Not alone.”

His hand, rough and warm, settles lightly on your shoulder. It’s surprisingly steadying, even a little bit soft. You nod again, this time more firmly.

“I…I was getting water. For my mother. She’s sick.”

He frowns at that, eyes flicking to the broken jar on the ground. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, just stares at you like he’s trying to figure you out. You were out there to get some water for your mother. How absolutely fucking stupid. But on the other side…he can’t help but admire your courage the slightest bit. Given your pretty weak frame and haunted eyes, you aren’t really experienced when it comes to combat. It’s obvious that you’re nothing but an ordinary villager, a girl who just tried to save her mother without having a single clue about the shit that awaits her.

Enough of that sentimental bullshit. If he looks at you one more second…

With a rough huff, he stands and turns his back to you.

“C’mon.”

You blink, trying to understand the meaning behind his rough words.

“W-What?”

“I’m taking you back. You’re gonna get yourself killed if I leave you out here.”

Before you can protest, he crouches slightly.

“Get on.”

“Wh-What?” you stammer again, heat flooding your cheeks.

No, you can’t do this. Not when he’s a stranger, not when he already saved you. He glares over his shoulder.

“Do I have to spell it out? You’re too slow, and I’m not dragging you the whole way. Now get on before I change my mind.”

Swallowing your nerves, you shuffle closer, hesitantly placing your hands on his shoulders. He doesn’t flinch. Instead, he hooks his arms under your knees and lifts you like it’s nothing. You’re startled by the steadiness of his grip, the surprising warmth of him despite the chill of the night. This is…the first time a boy ever touched you like this.

The walk back is quiet save for the crunch of his boots against the forest floor. You cling to his haori, your earlier fear slowly ebbing away. His presence, though sharp-edged and intense, is strangely comforting now.

When you finally see the soft glow of your village lights through the trees, relief washes over you. He doesn’t stop until he’s at the edge of your house, where he kneels to let you down.

“You’re lucky I came along,” he mutters, his voice still rough but quieter now.

“Next time, think before you do something stupid.”

You nod meekly.

“Thank you.”

He grunts, straightening.

“Get inside. And stay there.”

But before he turns to leave, he hesitates. His hand lingers for a moment, brushing against your shoulder again, almost absentmindedly. Then he steps back, his expression unreadable under the moonlight.

“Take care of your mom,” he says gruffly, before disappearing into the night.

Your heart feels a little fuller, even as your legs wobble carrying you inside.

Iguro Obanai

The wind howls against your ears as you step cautiously closer to the cliff’s edge, the jagged rocks below barely visible through the mist. It’s a beautiful view - almost ethereal. You should stop here, you know you should, but something about the sheer drop pulls you in. Just a few more steps, you think. A little closer and you’ll be able to see that gorgeous field of tulips your friends told you about.

The world seems quieter here, the rush of blood in your ears louder than the rustling trees behind you. You feel weightless, suspended between the earth and the empty sky. It’s thrilling, in a way. Comforting in depressing times like these.

You don’t notice the loose gravel underfoot until it shifts.

Your breath catches as your sandal slips, toes curling desperately to hold onto anything solid. For a brief, heart-stopping moment, there’s nothing but air beneath you, and you’re falling straight towards the tulips, straight towards certain death-

Until a strong hand clamps onto your wrist and yanks you back.

The force sends you sprawling onto solid ground, your heart hammering in your chest. You barely have time to register what happened before a familiar voice cuts through the panic, sharp and laced with fury.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

You look up to find Obanai crouched in front of you, his mismatched eyes blazing with barely-contained anger. His hand is still gripping your wrist, tight enough that it’s almost painful, but you can’t bring yourself to pull away.

“I-I didn’t mean-” you stammer, but he doesn’t let you finish.

“You didn’t mean what? To nearly kill yourself? To fall off a cliff like it’s nothing?”

His voice rises, each word sharper than the last.

“Do you even realize how close you were?!”

Tears well up in your eyes, hot and stinging, as his words hit you like a physical blow. You hadn’t meant to be careless - it wasn’t like you wanted to fall. But hearing the raw frustration in his voice, seeing the way his knuckles are white from gripping your wrist too tightly, makes you feel like you’ve done something unforgivable.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

“I didn’t-”

He cuts you off again, though this time it’s not with words. He pulls you into his arms so suddenly that you barely have time to react. His embrace is firm, almost desperate, and the tension in his body makes it clear that he’s holding on more for himself than for you.

“Don’t do that again,” he mutters, his voice muffled against your hair.

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again.”

Your tears spill over, and you nod against his chest, your hands clutching at his haori as if letting go would send you tumbling back over the edge. He’s warm, solid in a way that grounds you, his presence filling the air with something that feels like safety.

For a long moment, the two of you stay like that, the wind swirling around you but never quite reaching where he holds you. His hand moves to the back of your head, cradling it gently, and you feel his fingers tremble ever so slightly.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur again, your voice barely audible.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He sighs, the sound heavy but softer than before.

“You didn’t just scare me,” he says quietly, his voice steady now.

“You almost—” He stops himself, shaking his head.

“Just... be more careful. It’s not like I’m able to be around you all the time.”

You nod, pressing closer to him. The anger in his tone has faded, replaced by something warmer, something that feels like relief. His grip loosens just enough for you to breathe, but he doesn’t let go entirely.

After a while, he pulls back just enough to look at you, his hands settling on your shoulders. His gaze, though still stern, is no longer angry. Instead, it’s filled with something you can’t quite name, a mix of worry and something softer, something more fragile.

“You’re not allowed to scare me like that again.  Promise me.”

“I promise,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion.

He studies you for a moment longer, as if trying to determine whether you mean it, before nodding.

“Good.”

And then, to your surprise, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, visible through the bandages that cover his inviting lips. It’s fleeting, gone as quickly as it came, but it’s there, and it warms you in a way that nothing else could.

“Come on. Let’s get away from the edge.”

You take his hand without hesitation, letting him pull you to your feet. His grip is steady, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary as if to reassure himself that you’re really there.

“But…Why were you here in the first place?”

Obanai can’t help but get lost in a wave of coughing, his cheeks turning bright pink. Maybe, just maybe because he has his eyes on you since he can remember and never misses the chance to be around you when he’s home.

“Just…because”, he mumbles.

And as the two of you walk back toward safety, his hand never quite lets go of yours.

Rengoku Kyojuro

The festival is alive with the hum of happy chatter and flickering lanterns, their golden glow dancing across the busy streets. The air is thick with the scent of grilled skewers and sweetened rice cakes, and laughter echoes around you like a warm embrace. You pause at a stall, admiring the delicate charms on display.

You've been in love with those annual festivals since you were young, always admiring the different stalls with all the goos from far away while wearing your best kimono out.

But today was even better with that tall stranger wearing that elegant red kimono and those beaming eyes. Even though he talked louder than everyone surrounding him, you never got tired of listening to his food advice.

Maybe you should really try the sweet potatos he mentioned earlier. You lean in closer, trying to decide between a bento box and a side of sweet potatos when a scream cuts through the noise like a blade.

It’s sharp, raw, and sends a chill down your spine.

The joyous energy of the crowd fractures, shattering into chaos as people scatter. The street that had been so full of life mere moments ago is now a stampede of panicked footsteps. Vendors abandon their carts, children cry out for their parents, and the cheerful festival music grinds to a halt.

You hesitate, your instincts screaming at you to run, but your feet refuse to move. You can’t see what’s happening yet - the crowd is too thick - but the smell of blood is unmistakable, metallic and sickly sweet, twisting your stomach into knots.

And then you see it.

A demon emerges from the shadows, its grotesque face twisting into a wide, terrifying grin as it prowls forward. Its claws are long, sharp, and dripping with fresh blood. It locks eyes with you—a predator that has spotted its prey.

You freeze.

You’ve heard stories about demons. You know they’re real, but knowing something and facing it are two very different things. Your legs tremble, your heart slamming against your ribs, but you can’t make yourself move. It’s as though the world has narrowed, the monster at the center, everything else falling away.

It lunges.

A blur of orange and red streaks through the air before it can reach you.

"Do not dare to touch this lady!"

The voice is booming, confident, and electrifying. The demon’s attack is intercepted, its claws clashing with a nichirin blade that burns like fire. You gasp as your rescuer appears, his haori billowing around him like flames brought to life.

Rengoku Kyojuro.

“Do not fear!” he declares, his smile broad and reassuring even as he pushes the demon back with a powerful swing of his sword.

“You are safe now, young lady! I will not allow harm to come to you!”

He is...The stranger from before, the man with the elegant kimono!

The demon snarls, lunging again with feral speed, but Rengoku meets it head-on. His blade flashes, and sparks erupt as the demon’s claws glance off his sword. He’s a blur of motion, his strikes precise and devastating, and yet there’s something graceful in the way he moves, as though the fight is a choreographed dance he has perfected.

You watch, rooted to the spot, as he delivers the final blow. Flames erupt from his blade.

"Flame Breathing, Fifth Form: Flame Tiger!"

A fiery streak takes the shape of a roaring tiger, consuming the demon in one final, dazzling strike. Its body disintegrates into ash, leaving nothing behind but the acrid smell of death.

The silence that follows is almost as shocking as the chaos that preceded it.

Rengoku turns to you, lowering his sword but keeping it at the ready. His golden eyes scan your face, his expression softening into something kinder.

“Are you alright?” he asks, his voice warm, though tinged with concern.

You nod shakily, though you’re not entirely sure if you’re alright. Your knees feel like jelly, and your heart is still racing, but his presence alone feels like an anchor.

“Y-Yes. I think so,” you manage to whisper.

He steps closer, his towering frame somehow not intimidating but comforting.

“You were very brave to stay so calm,” he comments, his smile returning, this time gentler.

“But next time, it’s best to run. Demons are relentless creatures.”

“I-I couldn’t move,” you admit, shame coloring your voice.

“I froze.”

His gaze softens further, and he crouches slightly, bringing himself more to your eye level.

“That’s natural,” he replies, his tone soothing.

“Fear is not weakness. It’s what reminds us to protect what’s important.”

He tilts his head, his smile growing.

“But you’re safe now, and that’s all that matters.”

You feel tears pricking at your eyes, the overwhelming relief hitting you all at once. Before you can say anything, his warm hand gently pats the top of your head, his calloused fingers light but grounding.

“Good work holding on,” he says quietly.

“You did well.”

Your breath hitches at the kindness in his words. He straightens then, offering you his hand.

“Shall I escort you somewhere safe?” he asks, his voice as bright and steady as the flame he wields.

“There’s no need to fear - I’ll protect you.”

You take his hand, its warmth seeping into your skin, and nod. Somehow, with him beside you, the world doesn’t feel so terrifying anymore.

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[noirscript]

silent servitude

WARNING/S! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. YANDERE. noncon; breeding; powerplay; biting; slightly descriptive sex scenes; f!reader

One must abide by His Majesty's every rule.

It was a phrase you often hear from other servants in the castle from the moment you joined them as your mother's apprentice. A phrase that helped them survive the dog-eat-dog world inside the palace walls.

“You're not expected to excel in your work, but do not even think about failing the task given to you.” Your mother grabbed your shoulders with a squeeze. “Do you understand, my child?”

You nodded your head as you tightened your grip on your skirt. “Yes, mother.”

She lightly tap your cheek before placing a lasting kiss on your forehead. “Go on, dear. I will see you before sunset.”

You looked around your surroundings before hesitantly nodding. For some reason, you can't seem to ignore what you've been feeling from the moment you entered the servant's gate. As if someone's watching your every move.

The path inside the dark tunnel was short, but for you, the time seemed to slow down. Your feet felt heavy to take one step forward after another. Like it was keeping you from going any further.

“You've arrived,” a middle-aged woman spoke while standing in the midst of the desolate area, few steps from where you came from. “Follow me.”

You scanned your surroundings, a poor attempt in remembering the path where you came from. However, the more you walk further and further away from the path that leads to your mother, the more you could sense something ominous was about to occur.

“Are you listening?”

You bowed your head and apologized.

“Stand tall and look at me,” she ordered. “In this castle, you must keep your eyes and ears open at all times. Do not even try to let your mind wander elsewhere. If you don’t want to suffer any consequences.”

Your body shook. You tried to speak, but your voice broke. However, when you nodded your head in desperation, the woman simply turn around and started to list down the rules within that castle.

“Do you even know why you're here?”

“T-To train to become my m-mother's replacement...”

The woman sneered. “If that'll help you sleep at night.”

After giving you a tour around an area that only a handful of servants can access, she led you towards a gated path that lead towards a small chateau in the middle of a small open field inside the castle walls.

The chateau, albeit small compared to the colossal main palace, was still bigger than your home. You also noticed the crawling vines on its walls, and as well as its tinted windows that kept its interior hidden from prying eyes.

“You will keep this place in order. You may not ask for anyone's help. You will only work here alone. Your food will be provided by one of the servants, but do not let anyone else inside the chateau.”

“But my lady...”

“That is all you need to know.” She looked down at your stature before clicking her tongue. “Stupid commoners.”

With that, she left you on your own.

THINKING BACK, you should've realized the message behind her poisonous words. Nobody would think that it is normal for a servant to clean an entire chateau within the day all by themselves.

That doing such chore might result to an inevitable mishaps that forces one to change their attire. Something that might force them to take every piece of clothing from themselves.

“Y-Your Majesty, please forgive this commoner from—” you felt one of his large, calloused hand caressing your face while the other hand pulled you closer to his bare body.

“Kept that mouth shut before I do it myself,” he whispered against your cheek before slightly biting it. “Who would've thought that this would be an easy chase?”

Callix, the reigning monarch, is known for his compassion towards the commoners. Some people would even see him interact with the lowest of the poor during their darkest moment, providing them hope and warmth.

But as you writhe beneath him, allowing him to touch every inch of your body as he please, made you doubt everything you heard about him.

After savoring your heat, he aligned his thick member against your quim. Callix grabbed you by your cheeks and forced you to meet his gaze.

“Please...” you pleaded, but he only swallowed all your pleas and cries as he penetrated your tight walls.

When your first intercourse with him ended almost immediately, you believed that he would let you go. That he would order you leave and never show yourself in front of him.

But after resting his head against the crook of your neck, he suddenly grabbed your ankles and pushing it apart.

You could feel his cum gush out of your quim, but Callix was far from satisfied.

That night alone, he ravished your body until the morning sun has risen.

When you woke up, you felt the coldness of the heavy iron wrapped around your ankles.

“You're awake,” you heard his voice from somewhere in the room. “I have some news for you. So, open your eyes.”

You tried to open your eyes, but for some reason, your eyelids felt heavy.

“Are you disobeying my orders?” he asked while gritting his teeth.

“Open your eyes!” he demanded as he grab your cheeks tightly.

You tried your best to open at least one of your eyes and look at him.

“There's my queen's beautiful eyes.” You could feel his hands all over your body as he leave kissing against your face. “Can you hear me, my queen?”

“M’not... queen...”

He chuckled before yanking your hair back, exposing your neck to him.

“You dare oppose me, hm?” he asked as he harshly nip your neck. “Are you forgetting who I am, my queen?”

How you wish you could simply forget who he is.

Quick note: This might be the start of some series. Let me know your thoughts :)