#from animals that likely suffered much more through their short lives

[cuntylouis]

I mostly loved my trip to Spain but yesterday, the last day, something happened that really upset me and i can't stop thinking about it. I knew that the treatment of animals in Spain is often terrible (torturing galgo dogs, traditional bullfighting, massive numbers of abandoned dogs etc.) but i witnessed a situation that really made clear how casually cruel people can be. We were at the beach and there was a family nearby, man, woman and a bunch of kids. The man was snorkeling and caught something. He came back on the beach holding an octopus, or at least i think it was an octopus or something similar, i haven't seen them outside of pictures before. He carried it in his hands and showed it his to his kids and wife. He dangled and shook it. Then he went back to the water and we thought maybe he would let it go after that stupid exhibition tour but no, he just washed it and came back to dangle it in front of his family again. Then he went closer to water and started to rip off pieces of the still living octopus' tentacles with his bare hands and threw them in the water. At this point my mom interfered and went to talk with them with her mediocre english like 'it's an animal, it's suffering, is this legal', and the wife who spoke a bit english was all bright-eyed (direct quote) 'yes, yes, he's a very strong man!' It was such an absurd situation because they didn't even seem offended like you would expect, just kind of confused like they didn't even realize mom was upset and angry or what could possibly be wrong with what they were doing.

After a while the man stuffed the octopus in a plastic bag. I hope it was dead at that point but i couldn't see was it moving or not. I hope they at least took it back home to fucking eat it though i don't know why that psychopath didn't just fucking kill it quickly and felt the need to rip parts of it especially since afaik whole octopus is edible, i kind of fear he just threw it in the dumpster and this whole show was even more pointless than it looked. My mom and i both cried because the situation felt so terrible and there was nothing we could do. Nothing makes me more angry than people hurting someone vulnerable that can't defend themselves like children or animals, i felt so unimaginably angry that if i was holding something i think i genuinely would've gone and hit or stabbed that man or his idiotic wife. But afterwards i just felt sad and desperate. In my country some older ice fishers just casually throw the fish that are too small on the ice to suffocate because they don't really comprehend that fish are sentient animals. Maybe that family really didn't know that octopuses have highly developed nervous system and they feel pain and fear. Currently i feel depressed because i'm suddenly very aware of how this world is absolutely full of pointless suffering everywhere and little can be done about it, and people who are the only animals capable of complex analyzing of their actions and morals willingly choose to cause more and more unnecessary suffering out of indifference and selfishness. Maybe i'll feel better tomorrow but i just hate humankind and the whole world now. Rant over

[zaldritzosrose]

Nepenthe (Aemond x Wife!Reader)

Nepenthe – something that makes you forget grief or suffering.

Summary: In the aftermath of the death of Lucerys at Aemond’s hand, Daemon was dead set on vengeance. ‘A son for a son’, that was how the phrase went, and Daemon intended to live by that. It was known that you, Aemond’s wife, were pregnant with your first child. And there was no limit to the revenge Daemon intended to take.

TW: PLEASE READ THESE BEFORE CONTINUING! Mentions of child death (including Lucerys), descriptions of miscarriage/traumatic birth (A special divider has been placed around this scene), strained marriage, depictions of grief and suffering, there is no happy ending here. You have been warned. dead dove, do not eat. MINORS DNI. AFAB Reader. Baratheon coded reader.

Word Count: 3484

The day Aemond had returned from Storm’s End had been nightmarish. You had hoped he would return successful, your marriage to him and the child in your belly enough to persuade your father, Lord Borros, to bend the knee to Aegon.

But the news Aemond returned with was anything but.

Yes, your father had kept his promise and would support Aegon. But everything that happened afterwards was a disaster. While not unexpected, the arrival of Lucerys had sent Aemond on a downward spiral of rage and revenge. Seeing the young Velaryon had brought back the horrors of losing his eye. Of the lack of punishment his nephew had received. Aemond had seen red, threatening the boy and chasing him through the skies over your family home.

So many times, you had cautioned Aemond on his need for recompense. Short of making him vow to forget the slight and focus on you, your marriage and now your child, he had tried his best to leave it behind.

And he had, for the most part. Rarely speaking of it unless prompted. Focusing on aiding his brother in his ascension as King, and you as the mother of his child. Everything had been as calm as it could have been.

Now, it was not.

The tension in the Keep was palpable. Between Aemond and his family. Between Aemond and you. You had taken the death of Lucerys to heart. Not for any affection held towards the young prince, though you harboured no ill will either. But for the slight to your home and your House. You felt embarrassed. The letter you received from your father, that did nothing but berate and insult Aemond’s actions did not help.

Aemond, to his credit, had not spoken of it to you until you would bring up the topic. And today was one of those days.

The council had discussed it, his first time sitting there and the Lords in attendance had done nothing but whine and complain about the war he had now started. Aemond had returned to your chambers seething, pacing the room as he waited for your return.

You were followed by your maid as you entered, the young girl quickly disappearing at the sight of your agitated husband. As the door closed behind her, you watched him. His whole body tense, like an animal circling a cage. The longer you watched, the more you heard him muttering in anger to himself.

“Sit.” you said softly, all but commanding him.

Aemond surprisingly complied. Taking a seat by the fire, his fingers clenching and unclenching on the leather covered armrest. You took the seat opposite, your hand resting gently on the swell of your stomach as you shifted to find comfort.

“The council had words for you, I presume?”

It was only then that Aemond looked at you. Eye raking up from your rounded stomach to your face, etched in concern for him. If there was one thing he adored about you, it was your perceptiveness. Knowing him well enough for him to rarely need words to express his feelings.

“They did.” he answered shortly, though his anger was not directed at you.It rarely was.

You did not expect much more from him. In every instance, Aemond was one to bottle up his feelings until they were unable to be contained, spilling over like lava from a volcano, burning everything around it.

“They did nothing but berate me! As though I sought to kill him, as though I am a child?” Aemond finally let his anger free. 

You understood his feelings, as you understood the council’s. This would no doubt plunge the realm into war. The Blacks would never let Lucerys’ death go unpunished.

“Did you intend to?”

Your question made him tense. It was not something that had really crossed his mind. His sole focus had been preparing to return home, and whatever came with that. He had barely considered the consequences until they were laid out before him

When he remained silent, you asked him again.

“Did you mean to kill him, husband?”

You watched the muscle in his jaw clench, knowing your question was only adding to his anger. But you were not going to leave the topic be. His eye bored into yours as he found the words to answer.

“I only wanted what I was owed.”

There it was. The hurt little boy. But you had heard him complain time and time again that vengeance would get him nothing. That it would never be as he expected. And you did not have the same sympathy you had at the start.

You sat higher in your chair, preparing yourself for the argument you knew would come.But the words needed to be said.

“What did you think would happen, Aemond? You chased a boy on a war dragon!”

You rarely raised your voice, but your tone was enough to spark the fire in him.

“I did not intend to kill him!” Aemond snapped back, wrenching himself from his chair and resuming his angered pacing.

He may not have intended it. But he had done it, and your joined families were now at risk.

“You may not have intended it, but you could have made different choices.” You replied, remaining seated but watching him intently as he paced up and down.

“Not only have you plunged us into war without a doubt. The Blacks will want vengeance for this!”

When he remained silent you continued.

“Do you have any idea what this means for my House? To have a prince killed over our waters?"

Aemond froze mid pace. He had not and a fresh wave of guilt licked at his heart. He had never considered the consequences to you. His wife, the mother of his child.

“I..I did not think…” 

But his words did nothing to stem your anger. It was one thing to hear him imagine taking his revenge, but to now have to live with the consequences was another.

“You never do.”

Aemond said nothing. The mask of cold indifference returned as he turned on his heel and stormed from the room. You had no desire to follow him. Knowing he would return when he was calm.

Though the two of you never spoke of that night again, it was never forgotten. It was a dark cloud on your marriage, on your family, and the realm. It was only a matter of time before the Blacks sought their revenge. 

You would go to bed at night, dreaming of all the possible ways they would seek retribution. Aemond, however, would play that moment over and over again in his mind as he slept. A different outcome each time. None of them good.

It had been a few weeks now. The Keep remained on edge. Aemond had demanded extra guards at your door, and he never left your side where duty allowed him to. In any other circumstance, you would have relished in his attention. But the way he seemed to always hover just to your periphery soon had you feeling claustrophobic.

Soon, though, the Keep settled. War still loomed, but the focus shifted from its catalyst to the path to its end. The guards at your door remained, but you soon stopped noticing them. You tried to return to normal, but the fear still lingered. You knew something was coming.

Aemond had a permanent seat on the council now, a way of earning forgiveness for his actions by helping plan the war he pushed the realm to. It was a fair price to pay, he wagered. Though his thoughts often drifted to what you had said. What a mistake he had made, how he had let his temper cloud his judgement.

The rain outside was usually a welcome sight for you. Reminding you of the constant storm that would batter the walls of your home in Storm’s End. But when Aemond had returned to you, soaked to the skin in that very same rain, it had lost its happy memory. Tainted. 

It was now a physical manifestation of the darkness that lingered around the Keep and your family. Like the heavy cloud had pulled its way from your consciousness to your reality.

Today was one of the days you spent in your chambers. The stiffness in your body weighing on you as your babe grew. More often than not, you were brought soothing teas mixed by the Grand Maester to soothe your aches and pains. The warm, herby liquid was always a welcome reprieve.

Six moons of your child growing inside you. The most recent times coloured dark with war but you were happy nonetheless. Your marriage to Aemond was never going to be simple. He was not an easy man to love, he had warned you of that himself. But you loved him nonetheless.

And your child was the fruit of that. A child that might now be in danger for its father’s actions.

You were sat at your window, ignoring the rain and focusing on the sound of Vhagar in the distance. A sound that should have roused fear in you. But it reminded you of Aemond, so it brought you comfort.

Aemond was sitting in the council and your only marker of time was a servant bringing your tea. You did not recognise this one, but the Keep’s staff changed so often now it barely brought you concern.

“Your tea, my lady,” the maid said softly, placing the stone cup on the sill before you before stepping away.

You thanked her with a smile, taking a sip of the hot liquid and letting out a satisfied sigh. At first, the taste had made you wince, but it was welcome now. Knowing your body would soon ease and relax.

Your eyes remained locked on the city below as you drank. Feeling the warmth trickle down and seep through your joints. Your hand rested on your swollen stomach, stroking soft patterns to soothe your child. If you tried, you could almost feel them through your skin, but you were likely imagining such things.

You did not know when you had fallen asleep, but the searing pain in your stomach woke you with a scream. It was as though your entire body was aflame, your skin clammy and your muscles tight.

You forced yourself to stand, almost dragging yourself to the door and calling for your guard.

“Get the Maester…get Orwyle now!” you panted out, clinging to the door frame like it was your lifeline.

The knight hurried away, loud footsteps bringing him to the council door as fast as he could. His fearful expression the one thing that forced the doors open.

“Grand Maester, you are needed.” The guard’s tone was serious enough to have the entire council turn to look at him.

Orwyle walked quickly to him, but Aemond knew the guard as one he had posted at your door. He knew immediately something was wrong. The guard’s eyes met Aemond’s as he crossed the room behind Orwyle.

“Speak plainly, ser.” Orwyle said gently, before Aemond could speak.

“It is your wife, my prince…”

Aemond heard nothing else, storming from the room and running down the halls to your chambers. He could hear the guard and Orwyle behind him, but he cared little.He could hear your screams before he reached the room, screams of pain.

The door had been left open and you had managed to find your way to your bed. Clammy hands clutching at the bedpost to steady yourself. You heard people enter and you could just about hear the sound of the maester’s voice.

“The babe…it hurts…”

You remembered nothing else, the pain too much as your eyes slipped shut.

Aemond could not bring himself to cross the threshold. The Grand Maester had called for midwives to assist and the room was a flurry. You floated in and out of consciousness, and when you were awake, you did nothing but scream out your pain.

He barely heard the midwife inform the Maester the babe was being born. He scarcely registered your cries of despair. It was too early, even he knew that. 

The Maester instructed the midwives to tend to you while he looked around your room. It was only then his eyes landed on the tea cup. The shake of his head did not go unnoticed by Aemond. Something had happened. 

Orwyle quickly lifted the cup. It was too early for the tea, the routine never faltered. There was something very, very wrong. 

On the bed, you were in agony. Midwives circled around you and every single one looked terrified.

“My lady, you have to push.” The midwife instructed and you shook your head.

“No…no it’s not time. It is too early…” you whined, but your body began to do what was necessary.

Aemond finally moved, making his way to your side. But your reaction was not what he wanted. Your hands pushed him away, stopping him from even touching you. The action was like a knife to his heart. You were in pain and you did not want him. Aemond backed away slowly, watching silently as the midwives tended to you.

What felt like hours passed, your screams and cries never subsiding until the midwives informed you that your babe was born, a boy. But the silence that followed was haunting. 

“Why is he not crying?” you whispered, your voice hoarse and broken.

The midwives remained silent and that only angered you.

“Tell me!!” 

Your shriek was a mix of anger and despair, but it was Orwyle who answered you.

“Your son did not survive. I am so very sorry, my lady.” Orwyle spoke softly, the pain evident in his words.

You refused to believe it, demanding your son to be placed in your arms. The midwife holding him opened her mouth to refuse, but Orwyle silenced her and took the babe himself and handed him to you.

It was only when you held him, did it hit you. Your child was gone.You had not even noticed Aemond was still in the room until he moved closer to you. But you refused him again, wanting no one to touch you including your husband.

Aemond was at a loss at what to do, hovering at your side while you refused to look at him.

It was only when Orwyle said his name did he move.

“My prince,” the Maester whispered, “I fear it was not natural causes that brought this about.”

Aemond’s head turned to look at the Maester in confusion, silently asking for an explanation. Orwyle continued on, holding the stone cup for Aemond to see.

“The tea I brew for her pains, it was not due for an hour if not more. Whoever brought her this…”

The implication was clear. None of this was natural, outside forces had caused this loss. Aemond nodded, taking one last look at you before he left. If you did not want him here, he would not stay.

It had taken a lot of convincing for you to allow your son to be prepared by the Silent Sisters. Barely holding back your anguish as he was taken from your sight. You had watched Orwyle and Aemond speak, even through your grief you were able to deduce what they were speaking of.

The tea. You should have known. When you thought back, you did not recognise the face of the maid who delivered it. Aemond always told you of new staff. It should have aroused your suspicions immediately.

And now your son was gone. Taken from you.You called for a guard to bring you the Maester. You had to know.

When Orwyle arrived, he saw the determined look on your face.

“What did you tell my husband about the tea?”

Orwyle blinked in shock before answering, not having expected that to be the reason he was called.

“My lady, I…” he began and you knew he was going to skirt the question.

“Truth. Now, Orwyle.”

Your tone was harsh, and he knew he had no choice but to answer.

“The tea, I fear, was tampered with.”

He was not entirely sure of the exact concoction used, but he was certain the two events were connected.

“So I was poisoned, is that what you are saying?”

Orwyle could only nod, tears stinging his own eyes as they did yours. Your next request surprised him.

“Tell my husband I need him.”

Aemond was quick to follow your invitation, surprised at Orwyle being the one to deliver it but he went nonetheless. As he entered, his heart almost stopped at the sight of you. Sat before the fire, having had it lit not long ago.

Your back to him as you held a small blanket in your arms. A blanket you had embroidered when you first learned of your pregnancy.

“Orwyle told you?” he asked, fearing what would come next.

You still did not turn to him as you spoke.

“I warned you. I warned you they would take revenge.” You spat the words at him, nothing but hurt and venom on your tongue.

“I warned you nothing good would come of vengeance and now…”

You could not bring yourself to utter the words. Speaking them would make them final and true. You brought yourself to your feet, rounding on Aemond with a fury he had never seen in you before. Your grief had moulded itself into anger. Anger at the gods for taking your son this way, anger at Aemond for causing it, anger at the Blacks for being the bringers of such vengeance.

“You did this.”

Aemond could feel his very heart shatter. You were blaming him? He wanted to argue with you,but he knew you were in pain, grieving. Channelling all of that against the only person you could.

He listened to your screams and rants, his face never changing from its stoic mask. But inside, he felt sick. Was this his fault? Was this the revenge you had warned him of? Would his half sister and her people really commit such a foul act?

Of course they would, he thought. Not they, however, one person would surely stoop to this. His uncle had the ability for such cruelty, there was no doubt. Daemon was the epitome of rage and vengeance.

His attention wandered back to you when you uttered one hurtful line.

“Was the murder of one child not enough?”

The nausea that ate at his insides turned to fire.You were outright blaming him. Placing all of this tragedy on his shoulders.

“Mind your tongue, wife.” he spat back.

Angry that you were blaming him and no other. Angry that you were acting as though he had not also suffered a loss in the child’s death.

“You are not the only one grieving.” 

The scoff you let out in response only fuelled his rage more. He could see the fire behind your eyes. Nothing should be feared more than a grieving mother.

“None of this would have happened if it were not for your age old grudge, husband.”

You wanted him to hurt as you did. To feel the pain you did. You were the victim here, not him. Not in your eyes. Aemond’s jaw clenched and unclenched, wanting to match the vitriol you spewed at him in kind. But it would get him nowhere. He knew that.

Before any words could leave his mouth, you spoke words that felt like a hammer to the already fragile glass of your marriage.

“Get out. I do not want to look at you.”

He felt like he was in Driftmark again. Watching his injury go unpunished. He was losing you, and there was nothing he could do. His mouth was dry, his heart near still in his chest. If you had looked closer, you would have seen the unshed tears in his eye before he turned and stormed out of your rooms.

The door had barely closed behind him when he let his own tears fall. A mix of anger and pain stinging his cheeks. He wanted nothing more than to burn down the world. To force others to feel the pain he did. The pain you felt.

He would not lose you. Not like this.

There was a phrase, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. But whoever spoke those words had never met a grieving mother. The anger would burn you from the inside if you let it. And the Baratheon words rung in your mind.

Ours is the fury.

You were to live by those words now. Fury for your child. Fury at your husband. Fury at the ones who had hurt you.

Aemond on the other hand, let the rage burn. Fire and Blood. The Targaryen words had never tempted him more. The world would burn for the pain he had wrought.

No tag list purely because I don't want to unintentionally make people see something they don't want.

If you read it, thank you. I will appreciate any feedback you have.

There will be a part two, thanks to some lovely moots who let me bother them with ideas.

[ganondoodle]

(OC Lore and design time!)

(it got longer again ... sorry ... idk how to make things short, i just need to talk, but i guess if you can read the written stuff in the pic thats the barest bare bones of what i wrote here)

i was asked what new lore story stuff i had thought about that made me sad which i mentioned a bit ago, and while that is too hard to explain given all the missing context i thought i could at least talk about lore having to do with it :D

so, (Lord) Eadrya is one of my fav OCs (big blue lad, here a rough sketch in humanoid form) they are both one of if not THE most powerful demon alive and the most battle trained;

at the mid point of the story the demon world gets invaded by the celestials (the angel inspired things i talked about in the previous lore post with Xaror) and Shargon, as the king, should be their first and only frontline, but at this point his life is only being sustained by maschinery after being mortally wounded, he cannot fight (he realizes what is going on, rips himself off the maschinery to get at least his youngest child to safety, barely managing it before dying- the guardian, the demons god, takes over his body to attempt to fight against the celestials but cant keep itself alive long enough since its host is already dead) Eadrya takes the role of the frontline fighter (despite being very full of themselves and aggressive they care about their 'job' of protecting their own, also giving them the chance to show off just how strong they are); the fight was going well for them all things considered, but when the guardian activates it drains the power of all elemental lords (which Eadrya is one of, and since they have the most strength it also takes the most from them), so much so that they lose the fight and suffer deadly wounds (the worst being a spear through the chest made of a material that grows hard, root-like formations when in contact with demonic blood like a fungus but worse, also stopping any self healing processes) after the guardian falls apart it creates a huge shockwave of energy that stuns every living thing within a certain distance and possibly more-

Eadrya (in true demon form, so like a blue whale in size at least) was likely taken through an active gateway to the human world in a large tidal wave also created by the guardians fall; they wash up in the harbor of a small secluded village, the head of which is 'lady 13'; although never having seen a demon before and everyone being afraid (largely thinking its a strange hurt animal, only she suspected otherwise), they still gather all villagers to pull out the celestial spear, which is diffcult and brutal given that its already taken root, but the village lacked both knowledge and means to help any other way- doing so damaged their heart which is how they were able to collect samples of all three demonic blood types ('normal' -red like humans-, energy -essentially purely magic- and heartblood -highly concentrated energy only found within the heart of a demon and the only one to contain genetic material) (this is the start of Eadryas character arc, having to deal with the fact that their world is likely destroyed, them failing what they didnt think they could fail, having lost a battle so badly (even if not really their fault) for the first time and not knowing if literally anyone else has survived .. also being now stuck in the human world, which they dont like)

Lady 13 (placeholder name? stands for experiment 13) is a human that was tricked by demon hunters to enroll into a series of experiments trying to create hybrids of demons and humans, which they hoped would be powerful and easily controllable tools for their endeavours, though the two are inherently not compatible, they tried grafting body parts of demons on humans to make them compatible- all experiments failed except for her, more or less, though she never got to see the hybrid she carried and was then told it had died too, they threw her out believing she wouldnt survive much longer either and all such experiments were cancelled due to the high cost of human life, research material (demons are still rare) and upkeep with no successful results Lady 13 survived though (perhaps even via the pirates picking her up?) and she ended up living in said small village far away, hiding her half demonic body, though most know there soemthing 'wrong' with her (her being this tall when it doesnt fit the rest for one), only few know the full extent; she enjoys the life she has now, perhaps on the more poor side but safer and more loved than ever before; she largely lead the efforts to try and help Eadrya when they ended up in the harbor, though there wasnt that much anyone could do it was still enough- they leave immediately after waking up, but return after really having nowhere to go and struggling to deal with everything that has happened; over time (probably years) they start to open up towards the people there (though not .. very much) enough to get rather close with Lady 13 too- she actually falls madly in love but after Eadrya (extremely aro/ace) rejects all her attempts quite clearly she respects their boundaries

However, after hearing news of potential demon sightings Eadrya decides to leave in hopes of not being the last demon left after all; Lady 13 then decides to reveal her secret to them (though hearing and seeing what lengths hunters would go to for their experiments makes them absolutely seething with rage- she insists on not being out for revenge) and asks if they would be willing to donate a small amount of heartblood; shes always wanted to be a mother but is now incompatible with humans too- through things she picked up back at the experiments facillity, hers and her doctors research she is sure that is all that is needed, she dares to ask since she does not know when, if ever, she will meet another demon, much less one she could actually trust enough for this though Eadrya hesitates (why would she want to go through the same thing again that didnt work and threatened her life, if it does work, do they want to be involved with any of this? what if hunters find out it worked after all?) but after her ensuring that they would have no part in it other than giving up a little blood and would not be considered a parent in any way, nor made responsible for anything that might happen to her, but considering it all in the end they agree to it

only for her to reveal shes had a small bottle of it already, along with multiple samples of the other types, which she collected when Eadrya was bleeding out into the harbor not knowing if they will survive, though not wanting to make use of it without their consent either way (they are actuallly rather touched by this)

alot later the main group returns here and it turns out to have worked (though she is unable to walk/bedridden for a long while bc it did alot of damage to her body, which can heal since its demons parts, but only really slowly bc she does not have a full functioning system and no demonic blood of her own -she uses the other samples for the healing process-) though its a little awkward to explain, especially considering that 13.1 took alot after Eadrya xD (their theory as to why it worked so "well" that time is that even though the sample was already taken, them giving their consent for it still made it less likely to be rejected; demons dont need partners to have offspring, and all can do it, they just have to decide to- so them agreeing to it, even though its long been outside their body, still had an effect on the blood sample)

[lacollectionneuse1967]

slip of the tongue part 2 - jealous

Theseus Scamander x Reader

“He was all over you,” he hisses. “I am not a possessive man, but I could’ve killed him then and there. He doesn’t know what’s mine.”

summary: after confessing your feelings for (and sleeping with) your boss, theseus, you join his brother newt's team of wizards attempting to thwart the notorious gellert grindelwald. when you're tasked with distracting and seducing a powerful dark wizard on your first mission, theseus gets uncharacteristically and fiercely jealous.

fem!reader. theseus scamander x reader.

category: smut with plot

warnings: 18+ smut, (light) mdom/femsub elements, unprotected penetration, semi-public sex, jealousy/possessive behavior, also the reader suffers brief unwanted sexual advances in a scene

part one / part two

Your dreams are uninventive. Your nightmares are even less so. 

Often you are hounded by dogs: drooling, snapping canines, bloodthirsty past the point of cognizance, they’re more open mouths than animals. Or, you’re standing on the hill where your old orphanage used to sit in North London, barefoot on the roof while the rest of London floods below, water rising, you know you’re going to drown. Or some other tired, boring allegory for your past catching up with you, at last, your blessings, your wand, crumbling to ash—you know what the dreams mean and they don’t scare you anymore. 

But tonight you are perfectly dreamless. The dream dogs, the wintry world outside, the sound of the wind whistling through the empty London streets, it cannot touch you now. The fireplace is crackling and warm orange light spills in beneath the door from the living room.

Theseus’s arm is draped over your body, your head is on his chest. Every part of your body where your bare skin meets his buzzes with contentment. His room is like a sanctuary, his arms a house that holds you. 

You don’t think you’ve slept for even a full hour. It’s still dark outside when you feel Theseus jostling your shoulder. 

“Y/N. Wake up, darling.” 

You sigh in response and are about to put up a fight, but when you meet his eyes they’re full of sore regret, apologetic. He wouldn’t ask you to leave his bed unless it was important.

You emerge from the covers and start to stretch. 

“What time is it?”

“I’m sorry, love, but it’s nearly four in the morning. We have to be going, it’s urgent.” 

You turn to look at him, he’s raking a hand through his hair, sitting up in bed.

“Did you sleep at all, Theseus?” You ask incredulously.

“No, too much to think about. And besides, I knew if I slept I wouldn’t be likely to wake. Better you sleep…”

Your heart wrenched. In a swell of affection, you went to him, crawling back over his body on the bed.

“No,” he groans, but his hands come around you, sliding down to your hips, anyway. You kiss his neck, raking your teeth over the skin there.

“Don’t do this to me,” he anguishes. His grip tightens on your hip, it’s meant to be chastising but it makes you want him more. “Please. We need to leave, Y/N.”

It wasn’t easy letting go of him. You know he would’ve given you what you wanted with enough persistence. 

“Okay, okay!” You relent, kissing his mouth with a smile. “I’ll stop terrorizing you now.” You leap out of bed again without complaint. 

When he stands he’s serious-Theseus again, your boss. And you love him still. 

For his sake, you pretend not to notice his erection in his boxer shorts. It looks painfully hard. 

“Get dressed,” he says to you before turning to the bathroom. “We need to get to Hogsmeade.”

It was wonderfully strange to see him like this—hair in wavy disarray, looking soft and subdued, barefoot and in his t-shirt. You want to appreciate the sight, you want to talk about what had happened between you and all that had been said. But his mind is elsewhere, preoccupied, and it seems you are both running late.

At your insistence, he lets you apparate to your apartment for a change of clothes, but then the two of you are off, running down the stairs of his building into the dark world below.

————— 

Hogsmeade is more of a detour. There is an incognito meet-up organized with none other than Professor Albus Dumbledore. You’d, mercifully, taken a train--the Hogwarts Express. Theseus mentioned that Dumbledore was being watched by the Ministry, and that there were anti-apparition charms put up around the village and the castle.

You were just grateful to see him sleeping, at last, on the way there. 

It was barely daylight when the two of you arrived, the sun bleak and pink over the Highlands, providing no warmth. You were grateful for the coffee you'd nursed on the train, as you were grateful to relieve yourself of the confidential documents from the Ministry. Their weight was an invisible one for you, evidence of your betrayal.

"Some aspiring Auror you are," you thought to yourself, bitterly.

“I tried to organize them for you. I started to, actually,” You supplied sheepishly when Dumbledore regarded the haphazard stacks of parchment, laid out on one of the tables in what you assumed was his brother's inn.

Dumbledore smiled warmly at you regardless and thanked you sincerely. 

When you step out of the inn, you look to Theseus just as he looks over his shoulder at you. You're both more or less sleepless, and cold, and it seems the both of you have betrayed the Ministry and embarked on a hopeless mission, without many allies in the world.

But you were a united front.

It surprises you when he says, so earnestly that the tension in his shoulders seems to deflate, “God, I missed you. I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed you.”

You blush, but don’t break his gaze. You’re not afraid to let him see you anymore. 

“Where to, Mr. Scamander?”

He flexes his jaw like he’s not thinking about the plan at all, like he’s thinking about last night. But then, with a sigh, the moment is broken. 

“Germany,” he says. “It’s time you meet my younger brother and the rest of the resistance.” 

He says ‘resistance’ like it's some inside joke, some funny jab. You don't understand it until you arrive at the hotel room in Berlin. 

-----------

Other than the hair, that uncommon shade of reddish, honey brown, and the apparent kindness and sense of humanity, Newt is nothing like Theseus. In fact, when he comes over to greet you he can hardly meet your eye, his head is half bowed in the other direction, his mouth a nervous, flat line.

"Pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I was sure that you'd do the right thing when Theseus sent you his letter. It was... very brave of you."

You look to Theseus in sharp amusement, eyes sparkling.

"Was there ever a question of whether or not I'd betray you? Did you really think there was a chance I'd turn you over to the authorities?"

Theseus places a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

"Come now, Y/N," he says. "You know if I were to die I'd prefer it to be at your hand anyway."

You want to roll your eyes, but you're not sure to what extent he's joking.

You shake Newt's hand. You're soon after introduced to a muggle baker named Jacob and an astute, somewhat brash Auror from America named Tina. You're not much of a people-person, but you find that you like them both, immensely. They feel genuine, the sort of strong, singular characters that couldn't deceive anyone if they tried. That is why Newt's explanation of your task for the night sends a bolt of dread down your spine.

"We need to need to retrieve a magical object from a German Minister's office. I-I can't say much, it's better you don't know, but it's safe to assume that a large portion of the German Ministry of Magic has already fallen. Helmut, Vogel--and who knows how many others are under the influence of Grindelwald."

"Which German Minister's office?" Theseus says. His hands are in his pockets, he's leaning against the windowsill, the picture of nonchalance, his hair swept back. He's so handsome you could cry.

Newt ignores him. "Now, tonight may be our only chance. There's a diplomatic gala at the ministry itself. I can get us all in, Pickett and I can handle sneaking into the office itself, but there are five people who know about the object being at the ministry, who will be on the lookout and who need to be distracted until we're out."

He doled out assignments swiftly. Theseus was to distract the head of security. Jacob, the two waitstaff who served as the Minister's private informants. For Tina, the German Auror, Helmut. And for you? The Minister himself.

"Which Minister, Newt?" Theseus asks again, the edge in his voice unmistakable, though you don't understand it.

"Baron Dietrich, the Minister of Finance," Newt says at last.

Dietrich. Most of your work for Theseus was domestic, but you try to remember what you can. Dietrich was some Bavarian-born descendent of the aristocracy. Hedonistic, high society. He fought in the war, but gained his reputation in the drinking clubs of Berlin. Even you knew he was ruthless, notorious. A brute of a man without much respect for the law. That was the extent of what you knew.

Newt is rushing to explain before you or Theseus can speak.

“Please, Y/N, Theseus." He looks between the two of you, trying to appeal to both. "Dietrich, h-he likes…he likes beautiful women and he-"

Theseus crosses the room to his brother in a single stride. "Yes, and do you have any idea what he likes to do to those beautiful women, Newt?” He's seething. “Even everyone at the British Ministry knows he brutalizes them."

“I-I wouldn’t ask her if it weren’t absolutely necessary. So long as she’s able to distract him at the party, keep him interested there, at the party, nothing will happen to her—to you!” Newt turns to you now, addressing you directly. “I’m sure of it…”

Theseus sucks his teeth and turns away from his brother, still fuming. “Absolutely not. You will not send her away from my side, that’s final. Not to that man.”

“Theseus, please-"

“She’s muggleborn, Newt! Do you know what men like Baron Dietrich do to wizards like her? If he found out, if any one of Grindelwald's followers did, she'd be killed.” Theseus is speaking with such firm authority, but you know him well enough to detect the barely concealed panic in his eyes, the fracture just beneath the fortress. “Send Tina instead, she’s an Auror.”

“But Y/N is exactly the sort of girl that Dietrich would be-"

“I want to be an Auror too,” your voice sounds strange to your ears when you find it. It has a clear, confident quality, musical and lucid.

Theseus looks to you in shock. You wonder if he knew about the promotion you’d been offered at all, if he knew all you’d sacrificed to stay close to him—your very dreams dashed to pieces. From his expression, naked and open as day, he did not. 

“I can do it,” you make an effort to sound settled. Unshaken.

Being a young, vulnerable girl in the streets of East London, at the orphanage after, and then being a woman at the British Ministry as an adult, you’d dealt with plenty of over-friendly and entitled men. Boorish men were everywhere and were not uniquely monstrous. You hoped Baron Dietrich wasn’t either. 

"It's settled then," Jacob claps his hands together, seeming relieved that the tension between the two brothers has evaporated. Theseus is slumped over, leaning back on the nightstand in apparent defeat. "We're going to a party!"

Tina places her hand on your arm, leading you towards the closet. She doesn't seem to be terribly affectionate, so you're grateful to her for extending you this small kindness now.

"Here, Y/N," She says. "Let's get you dressed. We have plenty of time to go over the plan. It'll be okay."

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

Your outfit, "disguise" you suppose, is nothing like the subdued robes of your companions. You don't know why you're surprised when they ask you to enter the ministry ten minutes after them, alone.

The skirt of your dress is flowy and short, like a dancer's, ending just above your knee, something that might've been acceptable a decade prior, given the fashion trends. It's made of delicate petals of off-white fabric, adorn with tiny silver and pearlescent beads, glittering. Meant to draw attention. It's sleeveless and the top is breathtakingly form-fitting, pinching in your waist and hugging every curve of your body, but you are gratefully afforded an elegant high neckline. Silk, ivory-colored, wrist-length gloves that do nothing for the cold cover your hands and a fur half-coat is draped over your shoulders. Your lipstick is a deep red.

You understand what it means, these luxury items, your styling, the fact that you were instructed to enter alone. By no design of your own, the implication was that you were an escort, a madame of the night. No wonder Newt had Theseus leave the hotel first, before he could catch a glimpse of you. You didn't dare imagine his reaction.

As you enter the gala, handing the doorman your fabricated invitation without a glance, every head turns to you. Chatter stills as you pass, the women gawk and the men look stricken, hungry as the pack dogs in your dreams. Plates and trays sail overhead and the instruments play on, unattended. The German Ministry of Magic has spared no expense.

Patrons lean in close and speak hushed and anxiously. You assume the upcoming election for the highest office of the International Confederation of Wizards is on everyone's mind.

You head for the bar with your head held high, hoping it doesn't show on your face, your discomfort at being so seen. You were told Baron Dietrich would be at the bar with some of his men. With a trembling, gloved hand you motion the barman over and order a drink.

You don’t dare look for your friends. You assume things are going swimmingly for them, but for you? You are drowning in your finery.

You’re not even alone for a moment before the wolves descend. You should've known a man like Dietrich would come find you.

"Mädchen!" He approaches you partially, but expects you to come the rest of the way, waves you over with a meaty hand. When you raise an eyebrow, haughtily, he switches to English.

"Girl, come here." The timber of his voice is low, gravelly. He has a heavy brow, his hair is thick and peppered with gray. The gray does nothing to diminish the impression of his strength. In a fight without your wand, he could have your neck snapped, broken and rolling around its stem, in a heartbeat.

You walk over, leaving your drink at the bar, untouched.

The gala is housed in a mammoth, marble room, twenty foot ceilings held up by smooth columns, something that reminds you of Gringott's. But around the massive bar at the room's center are half-circle booths and tables, spiraling out like lily pads. You slide into Dietrich's booth and his arm goes around you immeditely.

He smells chokingly of cigars, a perfumey, sickly sweet smell. He is a bloated, thick-limbed man. No, you couldn't have fought him off. There are so many uniformed men at his table that some of the younger ones have to stand. With a sting of shock, you don't see how you could be of any influence on these men at all, they hardly see you as a person, aren't speaking to you. You hope Newt and Pickett work quickly.

Another young man, dressed in what looks like a soldier's uniform, slides into the booth after you, sandwiching you in next to Dietrich. You let out of noise of shock and begin to push him off you when Dietrich grabs both your wrists.

"Don't be fussy. This is my young friend, newly recruited. I plan to make him my protégé."

The other men slap the boy over the shoulder, jostling him in congratulations. He smiles meekly. You could hate him for that meekness. That pathetic deference to power.

"We'll share you tonight, of course." Dietrich is looking at the boy, not you. "In my office."

Dietrich's hand clamps over your exposed thigh and his fingernails jab into the fat of your thigh. You don't react to the bright bite of pain. The other boy begins to lean into you, breath hot over your neck.

Whatever small bird lives in your ribs begins to beat itself against that cage, flailing and thrashing.

"No!" You can't help the edge of panic in your voice. Dietrich is too strong, so you don't bother, but you shove the boy off of you and out of the booth without much effort. The boy stumbles out, dumbfounded.

Dietrich snatches your wrist with real fury, bruisingly.

"What?! You're for sale, aren't you?" He won't hurt you in front of his men, not at the gala, but his face is so colored with anger that it's nearly purple.

"Please," there's a real plea in your voice when you say it, you try to cover it up with a hurried smile, you try to look charming. "Dance with me, sir?"

That seems to sedate him. He looks irritated, but pleased by your attention. At least he won't be able to molest you in front of all his colleagues and superiors.

He leads you to the dance floor and the entire way your mind is racing, scrambling for purchase, trying to figure out how you're going to keep him out of his office. He made it clear he had plans to go there later tonight with his men. With you.

And he was an even cruder man than you'd thought, he'd made no attempt to even flirt with or seduce you. His interest in you was moreso entitlement, the same interest a predator has for a slab of meat.

Your wand, concealed on your person, gave you little comfort. Newt had asked that you did not reveal yourself, didn't make a scene. But if it came down to it, you would fight Dietrich rather than submit to him. He was more than repulsive. He wanted to hurt you.

"Please," you think to yourself. "Please, God, don't make me-"

You startle at the large hand that grips your waist and spins you away, just before you reach the dance floor.

Dietrich, abandoned, turns in flustered outrage and is swallowed by the crowd. You're being whisked away before he can fully react, Theseus guiding you deftly out of the overfull room of diplomats.

You sob with relief. "Theseus-" you start, but he's leading you deeper, still, away from the gala.

It's not until you're in some pitch-dark, gaping mausoleum of a hallway that Theseus finally stops, pressing you delicately against the wall, holding your face in his hands like water, like something precious. He examines your body.

"Are you okay?" He asks, pressingly.

You could cry out in joy, the sight of his face is balm-like, giving you a familiar relief.

"Yes, yes!" You reassure him. "Is it done? Did we do it?"

Theseus nods in confirmation, still looking over you for injuries, turning over your wrists in his hands.

"The others are already out. It was quick. No one noticed a thing, we probably took too many precautions this time around..." He finally meets your eyes. The look in his is dark and indecipherable. When he swallows, it's raggedly. "You're really okay, Y/N?"

"Yes," you answer, hesitant at the intensity of his look. "Why?"

Theseus presses his body against yours harshly, you don't even have time to moan before he's swallowing it with his mouth. Your hands are all over him, but he gives you no room to move, it's as if he doesn't notice, the way he's pushing you up against the wall, kissing you like he wants to consume you.

"You're so damn beautiful," he mutters. "When you walked in I almost blew my cover just to go to you."

"Theseus," you pant. You're needy, you want him to keep kissing you but he's leaning his neck back, pinning you against the wall but holding himself away so he can look at you when he runs his warm hands from the backs of your thighs up to your ass. He hooks his fingers around the waistline of your panties and pulls them down so they're only hanging onto you by one of your ankles.

He leans in for another kiss, just as deep and wretched as the last, just as maddening.

He pulls away again with a pant.

"Your dress is too damn short," he curses under his breath.

"Are you angry at me?" You ask quietly, still writhing against him, desperate for friction, but suddenly self-conscious.

"No, no sweetheart," he soothes. "Not at you. You did so good. Such a good job." His praise has you leaning into his palm, which is cupping the side of your face.

You whimper, "I want you." You realize it's true as you're saying it. You can't ever lie to him. "I want you," you repeat, more insistently.

“He was all over you,” he hisses against your ear. “I am not a possessive man, but I could’ve killed him then and there. He doesn’t know what’s mine.” He punctuates the last word with a squeeze to your backside. 

"Theseus," you breathe out, helplessly. You can't believe this is happening. The wing of the German Ministry that you're in is completely dark, you can barely make out the tapestries and curtains hanging loose from the walls. But there's distant light at the end of the hall, and dim voices and music filter in and out from the gala a few rooms over.

But you want him to keep touching you more than you know better, know you should stop. More than anything.

He starts to hike your dress up, his movements urgent, when he stops abruptly. The spot where Dietrich's nails dug into your upper thigh is small, but he drew blood.

Theseus pauses, loosens his grip and lets you slide down the wall. With a slow-thudding heart you briefly fear he'll be so furious he'll run back to the gala, to find Dietrich, but he only bends down and kisses the wound, just barely, lips ghosting over skin, so gently you could cry. Kneeling before you, he looks like a prince, a knight. He's careful to avoid the wound when he lifts you back up against the wall.

You can't help but stare down at it, in awe, when he takes his dick out. Your body still thrills at the sight of it, there, huge, resting at your entrance. Theseus grinds a slow circle, sliding it against your wet folds, against your clit. You just stare.

He flashes you a lazy smile.

“What? You want me to help you put it in?” 

You moan, audibly. You're not doing a very good job at being discreet, but how can you when he says things like that to you and expects you to answer?

"Yes, please," you close your eyes, too flustered to meet his burning gaze when you say the words.

He grips the base of his cock and guides it into your pussy. Clamps a hand over your mouth to muffle the noises you're making, you whimper dumbly against his palm. Only releases his hand from your mouth once he's fully seated inside of you. The stretch is so big you know it would hardly take any movement at all for him to break that tension and make you come, drive you mad, unravel you completely. Just a few rocks against the wall, a few rolls of his hips and you'd be brainless and spent, crying out his name. You're already dripping around him. But you want to last longer for him this time.

He's looking directly into your eyes.

“You’re taking it, Y/N. You can choose where—in your mouth, on your face, inside. But you’re taking it all.” 

You nod. Then once again he's fucking you dumb, you don't even care that anyone could walk by, you're just thinking about how big he is, how good it feels. He's fucking your body slack now, you don't even have to do anything, he’s holding you up, lifting you onto and off of his cock roughly, debasingly.

His hands nearly circle your waist completely, they’re so large. Your mouth is stuck open, making stupid, feeble noises and he’s grunting small words of encouragement.

"Say my name," he says.

When you don't respond immediately, too blissed out to think, he slams your body down harder onto him and you nearly yelp.

"Hngh, Theseus. Theseus, please-"

You can feel him get almost unbearably hard inside of you, then he’s heaving you up and flipping you around, manhandling you, so your back is his against his torso, his right arm a bar across your chest, still inside. He brings a hand down roughly to your clit to touch you through it, and then you're both coming hard, your loud, jagged breaths echoing through the empty hall.

Your head spins, you're seeing stars.

"Baby," he says, when you don't come back to yourself immediately. "Was I too rough? Are you okay?"

You nod, breathlessly, but stumble when he finally stops supporting your weight. Your body is still juddering with pleasure, your fingertips quiver and feel numb as you smooth down your dress.

He's right, you think with a laugh. My dress is too damn short.

Theseus has the decency to look around the hall to make sure no one was watching, and to help you fix your hair and what's left of your lipstick. Your lips are pink and bitten now, swollen.

"They're probably wondering where we are. We should go." His voice is serious, unemotive, but there's something like devotion in the way he looks over you from head to toe, just one last time, to make sure you're beyond reproach. He hands you his jacket, which is huge on you, and slings your fur cape over his arm, bearing the cold himself like a gentleman.

A flurry of snow has begun to spiral down in the streets of Berlin, white particles curling and dancing in the wind. You've always found this type of snowfall to be so fanciful, the closest thing to magic in the muggle world. You walk back to the meeting point in comfortable silence, Theseus's hand clasped firmly around yours.

"He doesn't know what's mine," he'd said about Dietrich, about you. And last night, not that long ago, he'd said, "I love you."

Albeit, after you said it first. You look over to his oblivious face, checking both sides for cars before leading you across the busy street. His kind eyes, the line of his jaw..

You wonder how he could mean it... You'd so meticulously tried to conceal from him all the ugly parts of your life, your past, your fears, even your wants when they seemed to inconvenience him.

Could he love me? Could I let him?

"I want you," you'd said to him in the hall of the German Ministry. You realize now that you meant more than his body. For so long even just a look from him, just a word, was enough to sustain you.

But now you wanted more. Maybe it was selfish, undeserved, that the magical world was giving way to crisis, the dark forces were closing in around hope, and yet here you were, wanting to ask him for more...

part three here

author's note: hiiiiii! YES i switched to present tense from past tense in the last part, and no i'm not sorry... please let me know if you'd like me to continue this fic! i have a third & final chapter in mind. or i can take other theseus requests. the theseus brainrot is real... some AUs would be fun too! as always, feedback is welcome <3 taglist: @mystic-mara

[ashtheketchum]

NSFW alphabet Patrick Hockstetter

A/N: I've done this alphabet with a few other characters before, but I've never published anything. Then why don't you start with the biggest psycho? XD

Warning: NSFW content, female Reader, book and movie Patrick in one, mention of killing animals

_____________________________

A(ftercare = What is he like after sex?)

Patrick isn't actually that interested in you after sex. Maybe he asks briefly if you're still okay and then he doesn't care about you anymore. Sometimes he is so nice and carries you to the bathroom, but you have to wash yourself. Deep down, Patrick would like to help you, but the risk of getting a boner again is too high.

B(ody = his favorite body part)

Patrick loves your ass. He can't resist massaging it, pinching it or hitting it. All he has to do is stare at your ass and he'll get a boner and have to stop himself from fucking you to the wall.

C(um = Where does he cum?)

Patrick doesn't care where he cums. Whether in you, on your stomach, on your face, on your back, he doesn't care, you should just tell him. He's not into condoms at all, so unfortunately you have to be prepared to buy the pill. Otherwise, Patrick will never cum inside you (except in your mouth-) because he doesn't want you to get pregnant.

D(irty secret = One thing he does that you don't know about)

In class he sometimes jerks off on you. Especially in the summer when you're wearing short clothes, he can't keep himself together. In fact, no one has noticed it yet and it should stay that way. Since you sit in front of him and always help the teachers, he also has a complete field of vision of your body.

E(xperience = How much does he know about sex?)

Let's put it this way… you're not his first. Maybe the first one he treats a little gently, but when it comes to sex you are (with luck), the third one he's had. He had raped many women back then and therefore has a lot of experience about how he should and shouldn't move best. Sometimes he had to hold himself together not to destroy you completely, but he kept himself well within his limits.

F(av. position = What position does he like to fuck you in?)

Patrick goes through all the positions with you. Missionary, doggy style, riding and more. But most of the time he prefers the missionary position. This way he can see your whole body and do whatever he wants with it. Of course he prefers it if you ride him, but he prefers it if he takes the lead. But he likes to try things out, so be creative.

G(oofy = Does he have a sense of humor during sex?)

This point is critical. It depends on his mood, when he is in a good mood he sometimes teases you. "My little slut… takes my cock so well…" he says, for example. But when he's in a bad mood, he usually never says anything. He sometimes growls, growls or whines, but nothing more.

H(ickeys? = How does he feel about hickeys?)

No. Patrick likes to give you some, but he doesn't want any himself. The world should know who you belong to and not the other way around. Because you belong to him, not he to you. So you have to live with the fact that you sometimes walk around with a bruised neck.

I(ntimacy = Is he romantic?)

HAHAHA no.

J(erk off = Does he masturbate often?)

Ohhh yes. He masturbates very, very often, precisely because he can't touch you all the time. He masturbates at school, he masturbates at home. The only time he doesn't masturbate is when he's sleeping or fucking you. But otherwise he always masturbates when he can or wants to.

K(ink = What turns him on?)

Basically everything you do. Do you bend down to pick something up? He sees your ass and gets hard. You stub your toe and moan in pain? He loves suffering and becomes hard. Are you talking about your day? He wants to use your mouth for something else and gets hard.

L(ocation = Where do you like to do it most?)

If it were up to him, you would fuck everywhere. At school, in town, behind a church and more. But it's too uncomfortable for you, so you only do it in private places. Once you did it in the school toilets because Patrick got a hard on that no one could miss.

M(otivation = What really gets him in the mood?)

Fire and knife games. He loves to hurt you, even if it's just a minor injury. Your loud whimpers turn him on, making him want more and more. Most often he cuts your collarbone, your hip or between your breasts. But he never cuts so deeply that it cannot heal. But sometimes a scar remains.

N(o = What would he never do?)

Start a real relationship with you. He only sees you as a sex toy and sometimes treats you sweetly so that you stay with him longer. Don't expect to be able to change him.

O(ral = Is he a giver or a taker?)

He prefers to receive. The feeling of your lips around his shaft drives him even crazier than he actually is. And your looks, he could never get enough. Especially your strangled moans as he fucks your throat. It's never the other way around, in fact Patrick had never even thought about licking or fingering you in any way.

P(eace = Is he slow or fast?)

Hard and fast. But the closer you get to your orgasm, the more he slows down to tease you. Most of the time he tortures himself, but seeing you suffer is worth the cost to him. As he gets angrier, he gets tougher, but then his knife and fire games hurt more.

Q(uickie = Does he like quickies? Something done or had quickly)

He was never a fan of it. It feels wrong for him to just fuck you quickly and then act like nothing happened. Especially because it takes several rounds.

R(isk = Would he do it in places where he would easily be caught?)

Yes. Patrick doesn't even see fucking you in public as a risk, he sees it as a given. If it gets too much for you, he usually ignores it. But since you mostly only do it in the forest or at home, it suits him.

S(tamina = How many rounds can he last?)

If he's in a good mood, three rounds are easily possible. Maybe more. However, when he's angry, all he really wants to do is hurt you and sometimes you don't even get to your first orgasm. But he does :'D

T(oys = Does he use toys on you?)

The only toys he uses are his lighter and a small knife. He doesn't want anything more, he doesn't need anything more. You never find toys that interesting, and neither of you want to buy them and hide them.

U(nfair = Does he sometimes tease you?)

Not sure if you could call that teasing. But, as mentioned before, it becomes slower and gentler as you get closer to your orgasm. But when you beg and whimper sweetly, he speeds up again and gives you your well-deserved orgasm. But only sometimes.

V(olume = Is he loud or quiet?)

Most of the time he just growls quietly in your ear. He wants to keep his voice quiet and deep so that he can hear you better. But when he cums, he lets out a small whimper, then he just breathes loudly and quickly. He is also quiet when talking dirty.

W(ich position = Top or Bottom?)

Patrick is definitely a top. He wouldn't even think about giving you dominance, even if you give him a blowjob or ride him. He always has control over you.

X(-x rey = How is his cock?)

Patrick is a little longer than average, but he is a little thicker at the base. Slight veins can be seen under his tip and he has a pink tip.

Y(earning = How high is his sex drive?)

Very Very Very Very Very Very Very Very high.

Z(zzz = Does he sleep after sex?)

Patrick never falls asleep after you have sex. Most of the time he watches you sleep or he goes to kill some animal. When he really needs to sleep, he sleeps very lightly.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddiesongfics.

Heat Waves

August Prompt: Heat Waves by Glass Animals (2020) | Word Count: 1500 | Rating: E | CW: Explicit Sexual Content | Tags: There's a Heat Wave in Hawkins, Eddie POV, Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, Pining, Voyeurism, Masturbation

It's fucking hot. 

The fan is doing very little to keep up with this unbearable heat wave they're going through this summer. It's hotter than balls, and Eddie is absolutely certain it has something to do with the after effects of Vecna. Like cracking open the earth somehow unleashed the heat straight from hell itself. It's undeniable that this area of Indiana is ten or more degrees hotter this summer than the surrounding areas, and honestly, watching the meteorologists bend over backwards trying to explain the cause of it is often hilarious.

There is no explanation they are ever gonna come up with that makes any sense, but god bless 'em for continuing to try.

Eddie is laying in his bed, listening to music on his headphones, because the neighbors are far too eager to call the cops on him these days. So, Wayne gently suggested the headphones, and for Wayne, Eddie obliged. Tonight, it's just him and Iron Maiden, as he lays in his boxers, hair damp with sweat. Even now, in the middle of the night, the temperature inside the trailer is nothing short of miserable. 

The scars on his side are tight, and no matter how much lotion he rubs into them, he still worries that they are always gonna be this way. Feel this way. Look this way.

Just. Be this way.

At least no one will see him here in the dark.

Wayne's at work, Henderson's surely at home in bed, and Steve is gone for the night. 

Steve's here a lot, too much probably for Steve's sanity, but Eddie isn't about to shoo him away. No fucking way. But he doesn't blame him for not wanting to stay all night in a trailer with very little air movement. It's a hot box. 

The government is supposed to do better, this is allegedly just temporary, but Eddie knows better. They brushed them off into a trailer that's worse than the one that was ripped apart, and this is exactly where they'll stay.

He's sure of it.

Temporary his ass.

But he doesn't expect Steve to suffer through it, too. Not when he has a big empty house, with all that expensive central air.

Steve tried to get him to come back to his house, but Eddie hasn't done that since his parents showed up unannounced on weekend and freaked the fuck out that Eddie Munson, Murderer, was on their couch.

Assholes.

It's a goddamn miracle that Steve isn't one, at least not anymore. Maybe not ever. Eddie isn't sure. Not now. He always thought King Steve was the asshole, but maybe, just maybe, Eddie was the asshole. Maybe they both were, in different ways. Eddie can't decide what's true.

Eddie thinks about Steve all the time. Sometimes he's all Eddie thinks about. He shouldn't. He knows that. They're friends, and that's a miracle in itself. Even if Steve did have an interest in guys, Eddie's sure he's not Steve's type. Especially not now that he's damaged goods.

The fan blows across his body, back and forth, and his one remaining nipple comes to attention with the breeze. Eddie isn't even sure why. It's not cold in here, but he still rubs his thumb across it.

It feels good, and he doesn't take for granted that he can feel anything at all there. Not now.

His dick stirs, and it's too fucking hot for that. Unless he wants to go take a cool shower, and he really doesn't want to move from right where he is. Not tonight.

But his cock hardens, trapped against his thigh, and he slides his hand under the waistband of his boxers, pulling his cock upwards. Wrapping his hand around it loosely. Jacking slowly, eyes closed. He doesn't intend to take this anywhere, not really, but if he can just show it a little half-assed attention, maybe it'll settle down.

Lazy stroke, after lazy pull, and before he knows it, he's edging himself towards a slow, easy orgasm, even if his hand is way too fucking dry, and this wasn't how he intended on this going.

But it feels good, so he keeps it up. Loose grip, slow strokes. He prefers not to rub any additional skin off of his body, thanks. He's lost enough, as is.

He thinks about Steve. How it'd feel if it was his hand instead, breathing out his name, "Steve."

And that's when he hears it, a whine.

Eddie's eyes snap open, and Steve is standing in the shadows of the doorway.

He's a mirage. The heat wave faking him out.

But he's not shimmering. He's not moving an inch. Eddie can barely see him at all, just the familiar outline.

"Steve?" Eddie finally chokes out, voice scared, as he pulls his headphones off his ears and down around his neck.

"Yeah," Steve says, "it's me. Sorry. I was staring."

Eddie laughs. He was staring. Eddie wasn't gonna mention it, but if he wants to bring it up, that's fine.

"Never seen a man jerking it before?" Eddie asks, not pulling his hand out of his boxers. His dick is still hard, and very interested in the man in front of him.

Steve licks his lips, and Eddie's dick jumps against his palm, "Yeah. Sure. Just. Not you."

"Well, I'm only a man," Eddie says, slowly pulling his hand upwards, going to stop touching himself with Steve in the room, when Steve startles him.

"No. Don't."

"Don't?" Eddie questions, hand stilled. "You want to watch?"

Steve nods.

Fucking hell.

Eddie's not shy, but this is brand new territory, even for him. Letting his friend watch him finish jerk off is nothing he's ever dreamed of before.

Eddie rubs his palm over the head of his dick, gathering up the precum there, trying to help the glide in any way he can.

His eyes are still on Steve, and Steve's own palm is crushed against his jean-clad crotch. Goddamn. 

Eddie strokes himself, lazily, keeping eye contact with Steve. Steve's sweating, drops running down his forehead. This is the hottest thing that's ever happened to Eddie, and it's not even close. 

Steve's rubbing himself through his jeans, and his dick looks fucking huge, at least from here. Eddie wants to see it, touch it, taste it. Get fucked by it. Stroke it while he fucks Steve. Any of it. All of it. If he'd only be allowed,

And as much as Eddie wants to see Steve stand there stroking himself while fully-clothed until he comes in his goddamn jeans from watching him, Eddie wants more.

Eddie makes a decision, he tugs down his boxers, freeing his cock from the fabric confines. Showing all of himself to Steve. His scarred hips, his hard cock, all for Steve.

Steve's eyes are glued to him, watching as Eddie holds onto the base of his dick, cupping his balls, holding everything for Steve to see. 

"Goddamn," Steve breathes out.

"I've shown you mine," Eddie says, with a bravery he didn't know he had. He must be delirious from the heat, "Wanna show me yours?"

Steve's nodding, popping the button on his jeans, tugging the zipper, wiggling the tight denim down his thighs, taking his briefs with them.

Oh, fuck.

He's everything Eddie wished he might be, and more. 

"Look at you," Eddie says, "Can I touch?"

And that's all it takes, Steve is shimmying across the room, kicking off his shoes, getting fully undressed as Eddie yanks his boxers off, doing the same.

Then, Steve's naked body is covering his. His mouth finding Eddie's, tongue immediately sliding inside, as if they've been doing this together forever.

Eddie moans, hands rubbing up and down Steve's back, his ass, and they're both covered in a light sheen of sweat. Slick as they rub against each other, rutting their hard cocks skin-to-skin. Desperate. Hot.

This is a whole 'nother level of horny. Eddie's never felt like this in his whole life. He feels drunk, stoned, fucked up on this man who's rubbing off on him.

Eddie cups his ass cheek, squeezing, before brushing the tips of his fingers against Steve's asshole, and Steve bucks against him, coming.

Oh, fuck. They are gonna have so much fun together.

Steve leans back, and rubs his palm through his own come, and then wraps his fist around Eddie's dick, and starts jerking him off in earnest. Eddie can't decide what to look at. His own cock, being worked over by Steve. Steve's face. Or Steve's softening dick, laying against his thigh, thick and wet.

It's all so fucking good.

Steve twists his wrist, and Eddie comes, hips lifting off the bed.

And Steve smiles, laying back down on him. It's too hot for that, way, way too hot, but Eddie says nothing. He just rubs his fingers up and down Steve's slick back.

They're gonna need a shower, and soon. But right now, Eddie'll suffer through the heat wave to have this wet dream of a moment together.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiesongfics and follow along with the fun! 🎶

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

A Quick Run

Summary: Spencer attempts to exercise with Reader.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Word count: 638

When you told Spencer you were thinking about getting into fitness again, he was excited to tag along. Maybe so you’d have an easy opponent. Maybe because he’d take any excuse to spend time with you.

Even if that meant taking a run through a nearby cemetery. He wasn’t afraid of cemeteries or anything. He actually found them quite peaceful. This is especially since besides the comfort they can give to living loved ones, they are largely untouched areas of land that should be used more by the public. No, the issue is that this cemetery is quite… hilly. And Spencer couldn’t oversell his lack of coordination or breath control.

And it’s when he gets out of the car and spots you doing stretches at the beginning of the path that he realizes he made a huge mistake. You’re even jogging in place, eager to get moving. Spencer could not relate less. If anything, his heart is pounding from inevitable embarrassment.

“Ready, go!” You exclaim before taking off. Spencer follows, picking up his arms and legs with every step. He's already winded and the burning wraps his thighs quickly. Meanwhile, you jog like you’re floating on air. Like it’s all-natural to you. Like you actually workout regularly (or at all, unlike him).

He catches your eye as you look back, noticing your pace slowing. “You go ahead!” He shouts, still trying not to look like exhaustion and heat are already bright red on his face. “You’re doing great! Go!” He throws his arm toward the first hill like it’s not about to pop out of its socket any minute.

When you turn around to pick up your pace, your natural pace, Spencer slows down to what could be considered a slight jog or a wounded animal. His lungs become dust in his throat. He looks around at the headstones, some clean and decorated and others barely withstanding time. He wonders if any of them would enjoy a new neighbor. And it’s when you disappear over that first hill that he finds a vacant patch of grass to collapse on top of. He cooks himself in the late spring sun. Every exhale sounds like he’s a cartoon character exaggerating an asthma attack, and the pain makes him question (briefly) if he actually is.

He heaves while lying flat on the short grass, surely sucking down a couple of gnats in his suffering. He shielded his eyes from the sun. Spencer wished he could impress you. Three doctorates and being an FBI agent only mean so much when encouraging someone new in his life to stick around. He thought his drive to put in effort would be enough. He’s not even sure that drive would be enough to even catch up to you.

“Spencer.”

He looks over to the path, seeing you in leggings and a tank along with a graceful layer of sweat causing you to glisten in the sun. If air could have stayed in his lungs he would’ve said something. Maybe an apology or insisting he needed five more minutes. But you were already close, and you held out your hand to help him up.

Spencer swallowed what bit of spit he had collected in his desert of a mouth, then took your hand. You brushed dirt and grass from his sweatshirt. “We can do this another time.” You insisted.

“I’ll be fine.” He somehow says. “I’ll just be a… a pit stop for you.”

You chuckled. “Come on, pretty boy.” You touch his back as you walk toward the car. “We can rest while watching Dr. Who.” You even threw one of Spencer’s arms around your shoulder.

“Actually that sounds good,” Spencer says. “I can do that.” His fingers make contact with the skin on your arm, and he thinks that this might’ve been worth it.

[aethon-recs]

This Week in Tomarrymort (20 – 27 September 2024)

A lot of really amazing updates this week — I have so much reading to catch up on this weekend! Thank you to the talented, hard-working authors in this ship for their lovely contributions and amazing updates for us to feast on!

As with last week, please feel free to add some extra context to your fic update in the reblog, like a little bit about the chapter(s) updated. For this format of weekly list, there’s no space to add a summary or extra info about the fics (or else it’d be like 8 pages long), so I’ll rely on the authors to share a bit more about their updates, if you’re so inclined! 🤍

A recap of the author notes from last week:

These Fragments We've Shored by @rowena-rain (M, 23k, WIP) “This week on These Fragments We've Shored: Harry mental-gymnastics his way into trying the Stone again. You know, just in case it brings back someone besides Voldemort this time.”  The Dinner by @moontearpensfic (T, 3k, complete) “A crack treated seriously soulmark AU! Voldemort takes second-year Harry to meet his parents--Grindeldore a;lskjfasdf. Awkward family dynamics ensue over the course of dinner and dessert.”  Saint Harry by @alenablack @chaos-bear (E, 26k, WIP) “The moment Harry is struck by the killing curse, it’s not death that awaits him, but ascension. A story of faith, obsession, and the burden of divinity.” Dream a little dream (of me) by @cenedrariva (E, 13k, WIP) “Starts off with newly resurrected Voldemort suffering frequent migraines as a result of Harry's nightmares. He quickly discovers the best way to prevent the migraines is to turn the nightmares into good dreams, and in the process realises Harry is a fascinating and entertaining person. In an ideal world Voldemort would have made him a favoured Death Eater. Such a waste that Harry's destined to die!” Liquida Tenebris (Remastered) by @dymis (E, 499k, WIP) “Harry falls in love with Scarcrux (Standard). They share control of one body and are so smitten it's practically sickening; however ||SPOILERS|| the Dark Lord also carries Harry's sentient Horcrux (Not standard). Harrycrux--Crux for short--is the antithesis of Scarcrux, and I love him so much, your honour; he's an uncontrollable animal with dubious life goals.”

*

Tomarrymort Ongoing Fics and One Shots

Chapter 58 of No Glory by @obsidianpen

Chapter 13 of the stars, my destination by @milkandmoon-ao3

Chapters 12 and 13 of Sits the wind in that quarter by @mosiva

Chapter 8 of Ills of Murder by @shadow-of-the-eclipse

Chapter 22 of Paved With the Best Intentions by @perhaps-sunlight

Chapter 21 of What In Me Is Dark, Illumine by @telelli-writes

Chapters 124 and 125 of Liquida Tenebris (Remastered) by @dymis

Chapter 13 of Just Business by @holaolla1

Chapters 33 through 38 of Terrible, But Great by @isalisewrites

Chapter 35 of Part One - The Solitude of Suffering by @iseliljathedreamer

Chapter 3 of Forbidden Darkness by @neurowriter14

Chapters 9 and 10 of Saint Harry by @alenablack @chaos-bear

Chapter 1 of unfinished stories by @betweendisorders

Chapter 24 of would that i'd loved (long ago) by @sprst1tion

Chapter 2 of War Prize by @duplicitywrites @moontearpensfic 

Chapter 4 of Fetters of the Damned by @sc0rpiflow3r

Chapter 2 of Memories of a Killer by @chemfreak89

Chapter 18 of Learning to love by @l-archiduchesse

Part 3 of I need you to live well by @onehitpleb

Chapter 5 of Hole in the Wall by tomrddle

Chapter 9 of A Snake in the Grass by @teaandsweaters9

Chapter 3 of Dream a little dream (of me) by @cenedrariva

Chapter 1 of Touch of Death by @moontearpensfic

Chapter 3 of doublethink by confunded

Chapter 6 of midnight train by @girl-with-goats

One Shot | The Challenge by Disrespectful_Chinchilla

*

[flashbangstars]

NCT dream as people you met on public transport

as someone who lives in a big city this was simply fitting

Mark

he took the last seat as you both got on at the same stop

he made awkward eye contact as he notices you standing infront of him as he was sitting

and them proceeded to look at you ever couple minutes while he was sitting

he had headphones in, but with how shit they were you could hear the justin bieber songs leaking through and he was now on his 6th jb song

it was like he literally had just a jb playlist

GOD ANOTHER ONE

every time the train would stop for a station he would pull one earbud out and look around wildly and then once he realized it wasn't his spot he would put the earbud back

when you had zoned out staring off into the distance you felt a poke at your leg.

"you can have my seat when I get off"

#1 jb stan was being a gentlemen

you weren't sure if he was aware, but he had been loudly humming the songs as they past and he currently was halfway through one less lonely girl

when the train slowed to your stop, jb stan shot up abruptly leaving less than 2 inches between the two of you

and like screeched a little bit?

Running towards the exit of the train and waiting for the doors to open

once they opened he darted across the platform to the same train on the other side going the opposite way

Justin bieber boy missed his stop too lost in the jb sauce : (

Renjun

your usual go to is putting ur backpack on the seat next to you, (because you get enjoyment from being an asshole)

two stops into your commute, shorty came up to you and pointed at your backpack

you took your airpod out and looked up

"can you move your bag

no "please", no "is it ok" NOTHING

you begrudgingly moved your bag onto to your lap

he sat down next to you and put his own headphones on

the good news was he smelled really good

like sophisticated richness

like he owned a yacht and went to expensive restaurants

you just usually stole whatever perfume your roommate left out in the bathroom (with permission)

and why are the mean looking bitches always hot??

He looks like he perpetually sucks on lemons, but I want him!

halfway through the ride you had been zoned out and knew your stop wasn't for a bit, you felt a tug at your bag

your ass clenched in fear, cuz like am I being robbed??

looking down slightly you watched as ice prince was mindlessly playing with the keychain that hung from your bag that was in his space

you didn't move a inch as if not to spook him (jesus christ hes not a fucking animal)

he then snapped out of it and dropped the keychain and looked up quickly to see if you noticed, not expecting you to be already looking

he flinched a bit and eyes widened

"oh.. I'm so sorry" he apologized putting his hands up

you reach down again and grab the keychain he had been playing with and hold it up

"I got it from gas station because I thought it was cool"

his small hand slowly creeped down again to grab the keychain once more

"oh, It looks really cool" he said softly and played with the charms

you two then spent the rest of the trip talking about the trinkets on your bags

Jeno

he was on the train when you got on, he was sitting at one of the double seats by the door

when he saw you get on he moved his sports duffle from the seat next to him onto the floor and gave you that look of "you can sit here if you want"

he had on those big over ear headphones and a giant ass hoodie n sweats

if you were being honest he was kinda hot

when you sat down next to him it was incredibly hard to not make awkward eye contact with him as he was beside you

it was semi hot outside since it was the end of spring and so you both were in shorts

you had that weird skin to skin contact at first and I think it sparked some sort of carnal desire

very much so a inside us there are two wolves moment

you couldn't even tell anyone about your experience because he could see your screen and you didn't have one of those privacy ones!

you had to suffer in silence, job harder than the soldiers : (

when your stop came, you went. reach above and pull the line, but he beat you to it and reached his arm over you doing it first.

well now you just had to follow him home!

kidding!

kidding!

kidding!

Haechan

You had 10 stops before yours, and you were sitting in front of the lit up board that tracked the stops.

your roommate got on usually 5 stops after you to join you otw home so you weren't worried about missing the stop

You put headphones in and leaned your head back to escape the harsh bright lights of the train.

30 minutes pass and you open your eyes to your roommate sitting on the side opposite you with a devious ass look on her face

the rest of your body wakes up from your power nap and become aware of the weight on your head and your arms

you had fallen asleep and wrapped your hands around the arm of the guy next to you..

and you had rested your head on his shoulder...

what the FUCK DO I DO NOW?

A Midst your panic you notice the weight on top of your head....

HE HAD FALLEN ASLEEP ON YOU????

you slowly snake your hand out from his arm and check your phone.

you had 67 notifications in your groupchat...

opening it, you find 7 pictures of you and this literally STRANGER asleep on each other.

waitttttt.... whys he kinda hot......

this actually may not be bad!

love and affection FOR THE FREE?

lemme take my ass back to sleep

the next time you woke up you had been repositioned now with your head on your friends shoulder

damn how fucking hard did you sleep....

you look around and nap stranger had disappeared

you felt your heart clench at the loss of your momentary wattpad relationship, mourning the hot man who had fallen asleep on you

becoming aware of your limbs again you tighten your grip around your phone and bring it up to check the notifications to find a bright yellow post it note stuck to the screen

"thanks for the nap : ) 999-999-9999"

this was a major win for women everywhere

Jaemin

the bus in the morning was this like devastating liminal space

it was cold

the lights were bright

and you kinda wanted to get hit by the bus

because of how early it is, you usually were one of the only people on the bus

today two stops in a fucking mens model on on the bus!!

sir what are you doing in this metal prison!

he sat in the back on the raised portion while you stayed in the front

you glanced up to look at him again, because.. shit if this was going to be the highlight of your morning you would take it

but when you looked up you made direct eye contact with him

playing off smoothly you did the thing where you kinda look to the side ish

looking back again you make eye contact AGAIN

hello???

as you two hold this prolonged eye contact, he raised his hand and waVED?

yall hear that meowing??? thats just my puss- GUNSHOTS

you wave back and smile your best "Im a innocent girl, but can take it like a champ" smile

and watch as he grabs his bag and stands

ur ass clenches thinking this will be the last time you may come across prince charming, but then unclenches when you realize it is also your stop

Getting up you follow ahead and go to the door exiting. walking down the street in the early morning listening to some fuckass songs trying to make the reality of 8 am classes seem better

when a hand grips your shoulder

21 years of being a woman and also a anxious mess you scream and turn around with your hands up

just to see sexy man from bus!

sexy man from bus what are you doing here?

"i am so sorry, you just didn't here me calling, so I just grabbed you I don't know why I did that, especially you're a woman alone, I don't know why I didn't think of that first?.."

sexy bus man was now rambling

"its ok!!" you say trying to put SBM (sexy bus man) out of his misery

"oh uh, well you left this on the bus, when you got up I think it got stuck on the seat, and i figured since we got off at the same stop I would just grab it.."

rambling seemed to be a common occurrence for SBM

looking down you saw the familiar hello kitty keychain you had on the back of your bag that you spent way to much money on a claw game for in his hand

"thank you sexy bu- SIR"

"..... your welcome"

Chenle

it was 7am on a Wednesday night and bro just got on the train in a pair of sunglasses on.

it was almost never that serious

it was in the morning and you were waiting for a friend and saving a seat hence the double seat with one side with your backpack

the sunglasses walked down the aisle and stopped at your chair.

not even asking, he grabbed your backpack with his grimy hands and moved it to be next to you, then sitting down opposite

you literally felt your eye twitch because like HUH?

"excuse me? I'm waiting for someone, they literally just got on at this stop"

sunglasses perked up the slightest and directed his gaze towards you "I don't see them"

you literally felt your eye twitch again and you chest tighten because of the audacity

your friend at that moment walked into the car, prompting you to point and say "okay well she's here now, you can move"

to which sunglasses shrugged and and said "I'm comfortable, why are you so opposed to sharing?"

you heard your friend laugh in disbelief and your eye twitched AGAIN

Your friend squished in next to you and you ended up sitting across from Sunglasses

your thighs were burning from you sitting tightly so your knees wouldn't brush, and your resolve to stare at him until his exploded was dwindling

with a huff you relaxed and felt your knee nudge his and cried a little inside but dealt with it

When the train arrived you got up and walked out of the seat before he could and went to your bus stop

sitting at the bend you felt a tap at your shoulder and looked up

GASP it was sunglasses! without sunglasses!

GASP why was sunglasses kinda hot!?

GASP wait why sunglasses here?!!!

Sunglasses smiled a bit and put his hand out "I figure I'd introduce myself, since we had such a lovely time on the train together, I'm Chenle"

you could feel how wide your mouth was hanging in disbelief and you stared at the surprisingly well manicured hand in front of you

but deciding against your morals, you shook his hand and introduced yourself

"nice to meet you Y/N, you wouldn't mind if we sat together on the bus right"

Jisung

The train during rush hour was a fucking nightmare, your class ended at 4:50 and the only line that could take you to your apartment from the university is the most popular one

when the door open you pushed in to the train and literally no seats were open.

you gripped the railing and tried to widen your stance a bit to keep stability

the train started and apparently the conductor was having a bad fucking day because he was fucking stomping on the breaks

each stop jolted you so aggressively that you feared for your life and dignity if you were to fall on this here train

after about three stops of fighting for you life, your hand was beginning to be slip from the sweat on the railing and your arm was throbbing from tensing for the last 20 minutes

all of a sudden the conductor hits the break once

...your hand slipping from the railing

and then hits it again a second time

.........you lose your footing

you fall backwards and close your eyes waiting to land embarrassingly on your ass.

instead............

you fall on the seats behind you

you feel a hand out of instinct grab your waist to stop you from falling more and another hand goes on your thigh to stop your legs.

opening your eyes you make eye contact with someone.....who honestly looks more scared/embarrassed than you are??

He looks like a guy around your age and is staring at you with these dark eyes as if you were taking your last dying breath in his lap

"are you okay" he asks sounding... once again more embarrassed than you were!???

"I'm okay! thank you!" you say still sitting bridal style in his lap

neither of you moves

like he still is deadass cradling you right now in public

"uh can I get up...?" you say and you watch his face flush red all over

"OH yeah, I'm so sorry" he says unhanding you

you stand in front of him and grab onto the loop in front of him

and..... you both spend the rest of the train ride avoiding eye contact because you both turn red when you do meet eyes.

______

im going to proofread later pls excuse if it seems like im illiterate

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Would you ever write an Edward story where he cheats on Bella post Breaking Dawn or they break up because he falls in love with another human after her? Like a few years down the line, he starts to miss Bella’s human scent, softness, etc. and then he meets another singer or someone whose mind he can’t read and becomes obsessed with them. And it’s angsty because they realize he doesn’t really like vampire Bella and what attracted him to her was her “humanness” so now that it’s gone, he loses interest.

Ichor

Pairing(s): Edward Cullen x human!witch!Reader, Edward Cullen x Bella Swan

Warnings: major regret, kinda feel bad for bella while writing this 😅, falling out of love, for the sake of this story reneesme doesn't exist, kinda creepy stalker vibe from edward?, but what else do you expect from him 😂, sorry this is short :( been suffering from major writer's block

Words: 1443

There was no warmth of life to Bella, not anymore. Edward had fought against Bella's desire to be like him, an immortal. With her warmth went that oh so sweet honeysuckle scent of her singer blood. He missed nuzzling his nose in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply and listening to her blood coarse through her veins. Everything was cold and hard and unwelcoming now that she was like the rest of the Cullens.

And while he was able to physically love her without restraint now, there was a gnawing dissatisfaction that burned a hole deep inside of him.

He tried smothering it, not let it grow and feed off his lingering thoughts. Just a harmless, passing thought. They'd taken vows, to love one another for the rest of their immortal lives in front of all their friends and family. Edward thought he got his happily ever after with Bella, his singer.

Never did he imagine that he would miss her mortality so much and so greatly. Profound was his distress over this realization as he experienced grief for Bella's human life once more. This time it lingered. Resting on the precipice of his consciousness.

Try as he may, it creeps into his mind whenever he holds onto her golden gaze. Grateful that Bella's special ability wasn't telepathy like him. It would break her heart if she heard the doubting thoughts that grew louder each passing day.

Edward didn't know the exact start date of this swift change in his mentality toward someone he'd loved and cherished so much that he was willing to face both the wolves and the Volturi in order to protect her.

Immense shame rendered him speechless, unable to seek help or advice from his brothers. He'd never kept such a large secret before from them. They'd always held a sympathetic ear for Edward but. . . if he told them about this, Emmett and Jasper might add onto his guilt. Bella was their sister-in-law. His brothers have proven that they genuinely care for her and accept her as part of the Cullen clan.

The world around him was crumbling. Nothing for him to stabilize himself.

Errands that took him away from town were like a breath of fresh air to his undernourished lungs- well, metaphorically.

His outings lasted longer and longer each time. The distance he put between himself and Bella growing larger.

Until something odder happened to him.

He smelled the blood of a singer once more. Each inhalation a spasming jolt shot through him. A burst of honeyed, reduced him to damn near salivating. Edward had almost forgotten the scent. Almost mistook it for something else.

Akin to an apex predator, he's easily guided to the source of such an alluring aroma that has him blind-sided. He doesn't care in that moment who lay at the end of the trail or of the consequences that may befall him from this encounter.

If it hadn't been for your singer blood, you would have blended in with the rest of the crowd in Port Angeles. A typical human female hanging out with her friends; just like many others that night. Unaware of the glowing eyes of the animal stalking her.

But you weren't like your other friends. With his vampire eyes, he saw the glow of your skin; your aura was blinding. Even Bella's presence wasn't as bright as when he laid eyes on you. His honeypot.

He frantically rifles through the crowd's thoughts, tossing them away when they didn't belong to you.

In pursuing you, Edward was essentially damning himself. Each step he took closer to you was like walking into danger itself. A moth to a flame. For the first time in a long time, Edward felt utterly helpless. Weak even.

Then he heard the ring of your thoughts.

And he smiles to himself, listening in as you contemplate leaving early to go home and finish the book you'd started the other day. How it was getting to the good part. Torn that you were also having fun with your friends though.

Subtly watching you from a hiding spot, Edward simply closes his eyes and focuses on the flow of your thoughts in an attempt to get to know you better. Another human girl with the delicious blood of a god.

Bella checks the time on her phone again.

2 am

Edward had left eight hours ago, not bothering to tell anyone where he was going or taking his phone with him. His behavior was growing more concerning. She'd asked Jasper and Emmett if they had noticed this odd turn in Edward and they too agree that something was up with him. Alice did her best to offer a positive take on the issue. Not even Carlisle or Esme had an answer.

Not too long ago Edward had been so attentive to her, relishing in sharing immortality with her.

Deciding to wait in their shared little cottage home, Bella leaves the main Cullen estate and takes to the small pebbled path that led to her home. She remembers how happy they were when Carlisle gifted the cottage to them when they came back from their honeymoon.

Her fingers lazily trail along the rugged bark of trees. Nails lightly dragging across it.

Their life was perfect now. She fit into his world. So. . . why the sudden distance? This was going on to four months now and the decline was becoming more evident.

Her other hand is anxiously drawn to her chest in an effort to comfort her. Bella could hear the cracks in their marriage and overall relationship.

Edward growls in irritation with himself. What an idiot he was following you home. Stupid that he put everything on the line just to be around you a little bit longer.

He kept bargaining with himself that he was only going to stay for an hour. An hour turned into two, then three. . . Until he was perched atop of a tree across the street from your house.

Exasperated he runs a hand across his face, making his way up the brick steps of the cottage.

He shouldn't have followed you back to your home. Now he had that knowledge of your address.

That meant. . .

So consumed in his inner turmoil, Edward was caught off guard by Bella's voice "Where have you been?"

His eyes round in alarm, the only tipoff to his surprise. "Hunting." Well. . . kind of true.

That was not the answer she wanted. Bella's brows furrow with her disdain. "Edward, what's going on? And don't say that nothing is going on because even the rest of the family has seen the change in you."

Hell, why was he thinking about your fragrance? Likening it to standing at the threshold of the divine and savoring the ambrosial nectar that flowed through the veins of gods.

Had Bella's smelled like that? He couldn't recall.

He forcefully pulls himself back to address Bella. He couldn't keep lying to her. Bella deserved the truth. But it would hurt her once the words left his mouth. It would make everything more real to verbally acknowledge it.

"Bella. . ." Edward must have looked scared and pathetic in that moment. He could see his reflection in her golden eyes. Eyes he'd groan to begrudge. "I really don't know what's going on myself. . . but. . ." Sighing, he ignores the consequences that would follow. "I miss your humanness, Bella. Your softness. The warmth of your embraces. Your scent. . . It's-you're just- just not the same. And those were the parts that I fell in love with. Your humanity was what defined you. That delicate balance of strength and vulnerability that all comes with being mortal."

While he'd kept his tone as gentle as possible, that did little to stop the breaking of Bella's face as her lips curl and tremble. The delicate arch of her brows twitch in an attempt for restraint for despite all the emotions she was feeling, Bella's tear ducts no longer produced tears. As with all vampires.

A tremor passes through Bella. The essence of heartbreak etched itself on her face. "D-Do you still love me?"

In a moment of cowardice, Edward averts his gaze from her making the sorrow she felt boil into fury.

"Answer me, Edward. Do you still love me?" Her hands ball up into fists at her sides.

He struggles to find the words to encapsulate the complexities of his emotions.

The quietude of the cottage seemed to amplify the tension that hung between them.

Bella grits down on the back of her teeth, a burning force behind her eyes that made her desperate to cry. "After everything Edward. . ."

"I'm sorry Bella. . ."

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for getting a pet one of my parents is allergic to and/or planting plants that would attract them?

Pretty short one, honestly. I'm currently living with my parents and younger siblings. Ages aren't particularly important, just know that everyone involved is an adult except my youngest sibling, who just reached teenagerdom, and the rest of us "kids" are stuck living at home without any real way to get places of our own.

What some of my siblings know, to varying degrees, and that my parents either don't know or are willfully ignorant towards, is that I am so far removed from my parents' political views that it's like listening to an alien way of thinking whenever one of them brings politics up. I've gotten very good at shutting up and letting them think what they want to about me- with how hard they project, they probably think I'm exactly like them. In reality I just don't think minorities should be considered "hate crimes against God" and think they're insane for believing as much.

Sure doesn't help that I'm in multiple categories of minorities that they consider "hate crimes against God" lmao

One of them, in particular, has gone into detail multiple times about what he thinks should be done to people like me or those who support them. It's, uh…not pretty. Let's just say he thinks fascism is perfectly fine and leave it at that.

When I move out- because I refuse to be stuck here forever- I'm hoping to be financially stable enough to afford a pet. I'm considering a snake, or maybe a bird, or a cat. Not all at once, obviously. However, when we were growing up, we only ever had dogs. The fascist parent is allergic to cats, so I can count on one hand the number of cats I've ever actually interacted with, and I'd need more than two hands and two feet to count the number of "throw the kittens in a sack and toss them into the river" "jokes" I've had to suffer through over the years.

I'm pretty sure there's no saving this familial connection. I want to tell them both who I am, but I can't do that until I have my own place because I know they're gonna react really fucking badly. They've told me so themselves.

…which brings me to my question. I guess it's not so much "WIBTA for encouraging the presence of animals one of my parents is allergic to as a measure to keep them away" and more "WIBTA for getting a pet that my parents might dislike enough to try and get rid of" iykwim.

What are these acronyms?

[theheirofthesharingan]

What do you think about mikoto and fugaku as parents to Itachi & Sasuke? Fugaku gets a bad rep as a parent, but what about mikoto?

Wow, I've been thinking about this a lot lately.

Yeah, Fugaku gets a bad rep as a father and it's rightly so. Mikoto is seen as a loving mother, and while some part of that love is valid, and I like her for being a good mom to Sasuke, my admiration for her was dented upon the realization that she was a neglectful mother towards Itachi. And as much of a hot take as it might seem, both Fugaku and Mikoto were better parents to Sasuke than they were ever to Itachi.

So, I have mixed feelings about them both. And when I include Fugaku with Mikoto as a 'better parent' to Sasuke, please know the bar is in absolute hell.

I like the fact that Mikoto was at least invested in Sasuke's life.

She was present in his life, albeit for a short while, and involved in it. She provided him, offered him the love he deserved and needed as a baby. She saw Sasuke was suffering and struggling to get his father's attention, and provided her moral support to him. There's not a single instance, however, she was present there for Itachi. Itachi, too, would have needed his mother's support sometime, that too when he was being sucked into the politics, but we don't see him getting any of that. One could argue it was because Sasuke never witnessed.. Yeah, but how was it after learning the truth not a single memory clicked in his mind that would give away Itachi's sufferings in front of his mom? It's probably because it never happened.

Fugaku was outright neglectful towards Sasuke. Not just that he repeatedly compared Sasuke with Itachi, refusing to see him as his own person and saw him as only a shadow of the 'perfect' Itachi. If Sasuke wasn't as good as Itachi in all the things, he wasn't worth paying attention to, right?

The reason Sasuke was Sasuke and Itachi was Itachi was because of Mikoto. I strongly feel that children need a powerful feminine presence in their lives, which comes from their mothers or sisters. Sasuke was gentle and remained so after everything he went through. I believe it was because in his formative years Mikoto had been there for him.

There's a lot more to explore on Fugaku and Itachi than his parents with Sasuke. When I say Fugaku was a better father to Sasuke, what I mean is that despite being neglectful, he didn't drag Sasuke in the political mess that Itachi was. Sasuke was kept in complete darkness (probably like other kids of the clan) but Itachi wasn't shown this much kindness.

Fugaku and Itachi's conversations are mostly one sided with Mikoto being a silent spectator.

This conversation in particular pains me the most in regards to Itachi. It's like he's only allowed to say yes and no, and any other disagreement with his father on the subject will not be taken positively. He seems unhappy and is suffering and his feelings as a child are not taken into account at all. I say no one treated him like a human. But his own parents never even saw him a child.

Itachi had been acting strange ever since joined Anbu and Fugaku wonders what's wrong with him.

Shisui was spying on Itachi. Did he agree to go out spy on his BFF because some random Uchiha said this to him? Or was he ordered to do so by the chief of the police force? Fugaku, most likely, consented to Shisui spying on Itachi.

Some people say this is an instance of Itachi being evil. LMAO. imagine your best friend committed suicide in front of you and some people come to your house to accuse you of his murder along with many other things? Right. He must behave very angelic.

My man's worried what's wrong with his son who's being subjected to some burden he's dealing with all alone. And neither him not his wife want to reach out to him like normal parents should.

Eventually, when Sasuke asks whats wrong with Itachi and why he doesn't pay much attention to him, Fugaku has an even-I-don't-know response.

In the anime Fugaku says 'Your brother had a hard time dropping his guard'. All of it is an indicator of how terribly Itachi was treated. It wasn't just neglect but also an additional burden of the clan and the village. And all of this is being said about a child that isn't even thirteen yet.

Honestly, I give a lot of benefit of doubt to all the characters in Naruto, Fugaku and Mikoto included. And this opinion on Sasuke and Itachi's parents is because how much Itachi is hated when, it's obvious how every single grown up, especially his parents, in his life failed him. He wasn't treated as a child.

Although, I don't like to hate on their parents either. Fugaku and Mikoto were nothing but kind to Itachi in the end. He'd have cherished those last moments forever until his last breath. Sasuke spoke openly to his father the day he lost him. He'd have hoped he'd continue to be like this with his family but that was the only time in his life he received genuine acknowledgement from his dad.

No, Fugaku and Mikoto were worse parents to Itachi than they were to Sasuke. I like Mikoto because she loved sasuke and showed him genuine love. But i can't like her more because Itachi needed support from his family, which he never got.

Yet they both lost so much and loss of their parents was the worst thing that happened to them both.

[ganondoodle]

actively fighting a full blown panic attack born out of sadness and anger after having to drive by yet another victim on the side of the road

it makes me livid how accepted it is to just let cats suffer and die disgustingly horrid deaths and live awful short lives just so what, for what?? so you dont have to play with them for an hour a day??? when i was little it was just kinda normal that they disappeared at some point, i didnt understand what it actually meant until our outdoor cat i loved dearly was found in the bushes near our house in a condition so horrible my dad has never told me and i have never dared to ask, she only made it to 6 and had horrible scars and infections before that i allowed my family to convince me to let my first own cat outside, we only had her for a year, she died at only 2 years old, i am still suffering from the guilt, it has never let me go, she went missing for a week and i walked the entire vilage up and down every day, yelling her name, wandering into the forest alone, talking to every stranger i met until one morning my mom told me that our neighbour who works for the city asked if we had a white cat with a very specific collar she had- he found her on a busy road crossing in the next bigger city, i never even got to bury her, its haunting me, the thought of her wandering lost and scared in the city for a week until meeting an awful end gives me headaches, the fact that i was the last one to see her alive, that i put her outside bc we were late for school and had to leave quickly, that she had come home with oil in her fur from crawling through maschines and cars before, that i was worried but still didnt act, that it is my fault, any time i am up to late its coming back, it will never let me go, if i had stood my ground and not allow her outside unless on a leash or similar shed still be alive today, any time i read a description at our local shelter it comes back, they still advocate for outside cats, all of them, even if they have only been an indoor one before, its madness my older sister had a cat, i dont even know how old he got but it wasnt long either, he got hit by a car in front of their house, she has two now again and the only reason she hasnt let them outside is because they havent shown much interest in it, i tried to warn her before and she didnt listen and shes still resistent, even after losing one too

i have seen so many on the side of the road, anywhere i drive i see them, i cannot forget a single one, we are surrounded by farm land and all its giant maschinery, its still common to poison rodents, why do people value them so little, you wouldnt let your dog just live outside in the woods and streets for half the day or more, you wouldnt just throw your guniea pigs on the road and tell them have fun, you wouldnt just let your bird roam outside, there probably assholes that do that too but you cannot tell me its as common as outside cats

i dont understand it, i dont, i wont, i never will, i will never forgive myself this poor little animal that was my responsibility having to pay the price of my ignorance, or my own weakness letting my family convince me despite the awful way we lost one before, it makes me want to explode it hurts my brain in grief and anger i can barely contain

cats deserve to live a safe and long life, i get only having them inside may feel like you are locking them up, but do you think that not doing so is worth having them die a painful death? being poisonend? on purpose even by disgusting people that hate them? abused and chased by other animals and dogs? hurt and lost? cutting their lifespan in half? if they even make it that far? the amount of wildlife that they kill unnecessarily so when all of that is already in a steep decline everywhere? and if they eat what they hunt get infected with diseases or again, poison? die somewhere in agony? if cared for they dont care about going outside, plenty can be leash trained or given a secure way to roam like those cat proof aviary like things, if you dont want to put effort into caring for a cat DONT GET ONE, ALL pets require adequate care, and if you think cats are the easiest bc you only have to feed them every now and then IF they come home? you suck, you are an asshole, i hate you and you do not care about them, if you just want to occasionalyl feed and pet an animal go to the petting zoo

(this is about pet cats of people who can absolutely afford to keep them healthily inside, i know feral cats and those in poor neighbourhoods are a thing, even if not here where i live, and thats a whole other but still similar problem and not the point of this post)

[h8ani]

You don't mean to hold onto the past but, you do. You hold onto him with every piece of you and you're only going to hurt others in the process.

Takashi Mitsuya x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: nsfw, female reader, non-canon events, reader deals with grief, major character death, descriptions of a dead body, mentions of blood, mentions of a panic attack, unprotected sex, hurt & no comfort

Here is my entry for @bioticlaw TUN collab! I don't know why I choose sadness and angst but I hope anyone who reads this enjoys what I wrote! I tried my hardest with this one :')

taglist: @kkittycries @blackfire2013 @benkeibear @suyacho @shujistars

join my taglist -> here

Grief: (noun) deep sorrow, especially that caused by someone's death. 

Grief is the response to loss, particularly to the loss of someone or something that has died. Death is the tragedy in the young, too many opportunities and experiences cut short. There’s a different kind of mourning you feel when someone you love dies young, you’re angry; the unfairness in the world makes you want to scream and cry, all the lost occasions and celebrations you’ll never get with your person. It’s different when they never get to grow old with you, getting to have the same initiations in life that you had to go through; the heartbreaks, the ceremonies, all the celebratory times in one’s life all cut too short by the angel of death himself. Death is a right of passage for the elderly, the old have lived their lives fully, looking back on the memories that they made because they had a full life to live, a life they had lived absolutely.

The death in your life was one no person should have to endure. The loss of your one true love; Ken Ryuguji. The sorrow you feel should be a testament to the love you had, the pain stands as a witness of your bond with him and how it still survives even when time has spent since his passing. 

Ken was a true gem, a diamond in the rough of the people in your life. He was a protector by nature when it came to you, always shielding you from danger since you two were young, it continued even after you two grew up from little kids to young adults although by then you were able to defend yourself without needing his presence. It’s a shame you were never able to do the same for him. 

The memories of seeing him were ones engraved in your mind, the blood that pooled around his cold, lifeless body still haunts every aspect of your being. Most nights you cry yourself to sleep, the recollections of that unforgettable night being the only thing you’re able to think of when the moon shines brightly through your window, the darkness of the night mirroring just how you felt inside most days. No matter what you do to stop them, the tears continue to flow. 

You wish you could think of the happy memories, lord knows there were plenty of them to blur out the bad. Your favorite memories hazily glow in the glum thoughts, the light trying to brighten but eventually being downcast into the murkiness of your heartbreak. You still think back to when you’d be on the back of his bike – your arms wrapped tightly around his waist as the bike was revved up and exceeded speeds that weren’t legal in any way but you didn’t care. You could’ve driven for hours and ended up who knows where and you wouldn’t care. You would’ve been content just being with Ken forever. 

But forever doesn’t exist.

The suffering you endure from the memories of that very night – it’s like razor blades filled inside one of the many stuffed animals he had given you throughout the years, the more you clung to them the deeper the cuts go, and no chance in healing as you embed them deeper and deeper. 

You gasp aloud, body shooting up in a frenzy as you look around, the heavy comforter that was once draped over you was now kicked down and bunched down at your feet. Your throat constricted against itself as you tried to heave as much air in your lungs as possible. The room was spinning even when the darkness surrounded you with no form of light peeking out anywhere. You squeezed your eyes shut, the tears that had already been welling up fell down your cheeks now. You’re so focused on catching your breath and centering yourself that you don’t hear the calling of your name from beside you, the low buzz in your ears greater than his voice could reach. 

You feel a gentle hand on your back, the slow movements of his hand seemingly calming you down in a matter of seconds. “Sorry…” you mutter out, voice hoarse and quiet, you glance over to see your boyfriend, a worried expression etched all over his face. 

“No apologies tonight, okay?” Mitsuya says as he sees your broken figure, he pulls you closer to him as he lays you both back into the bed. Your head rests against his shoulder while he continues to rub small circles along your back. A shaky sigh escapes your lips as you melt into him feeling the tingle in your body slowly dissipate while you calm down. 

Mitsuya knew what he was getting into when he finally decided to approach you, he had known you since you both were kids; being introduced to each other by Draken himself, he also knew of the relationship that you and Draken had, Mistuya was also the one who realized that you were the unlucky soul who found Draken’s body, but how could you not when you were pinged the location. 

It was something out of a movie, a horror movie that no one should have to live through. Mitsuya remembers hearing that you found Draken’s body but when you opened up enough to tell him the events that happened that very night a shiver ran through his spine. 

You rushed through the story when trying to talk to him about it, tears pricking your eyes because you were so tired of crying and just wanted to stop. When you finally got to the part that took an eerily chill turn Mitsuya could feel his own throat start to contract, the bile in his throat slowly rising up. You got the location ping from Draken himself, it was a random spot, an area behind a field that was frequently packed during the summer when little league would be in full swing, but you knew it. You went to go meet him, confused as to why he was so M.I.A during the day and why he didn’t tell you about the reason for this random location drop. You finally saw him, lying in a patch of grass staring up at the stars until realizing what you were actually looking at. 

Draken was dead. 

His face looked peaceful but the torn, dirty clothes he was wearing said differently. The grass was stained red around him and it dragged on as if his body was moved. Days later you found out that he had been dead for hours prior to getting the location ping that was sent to your phone, a silent yet deafening message being sent to you.

Mitsuya listened to everything, seeing how you were when reiterating the story to him, watching how you fidgeted and struggled to finish the story towards the end. You were never the same after that, the lasting effects of witnessing and living through something so traumatizing was something you dealt with on a daily basis. You told him that the first few months you had nightmares every night, some so bad that you forced yourself to stay awake for days on end which only made you incoherent at work. Therapy was something you now go to three times a week, it does help but he sees the anger behind your eyes when you say you shouldn’t need it. 

You were closed off when Mitsuya came to you, another result of what you had been through. He remembers vividly of your warnings to him, you were so adamant on telling him that you weren’t the same girl he once knew, you couldn’t be. If you could’ve given him a powerpoint presentation as to why he shouldn’t be with you, you would have if you were given the time. But he didn’t care, he just smiled that same comforting smile he’s always had at you just waiting on you to finish the 15th reason as to why he’d be better off with someone else. 

The look on your face when he just waited for you to finish and proceed to ask you out on a date was something he cherished, the little gap your lips made in astonishment and wide eyes was something to snicker at. He was going to be the one to break down this concrete wall you had built up. 

Days turned into weeks which turned to months and here you were, almost a year together and if you were being completely honest you were surprised. You didn’t expect a relationship to come from him, but when it did, the guilt that started to eat away at you displayed so vividly that you were so sure that he was going to cut and run at the earliest convenience, but he stayed, he kept his feet planted firmly down and promised to help you, he told you that you weren’t alone in this and for the first time in a long time you didn’t feel alone. 

Mitsuya was never a rebound to you, you never wanted him to be just someone to take up the space that Ken once filled up, you don’t think that anyone could truly do that. Being with Mitsuya you learned that it’s okay to keep ahold of those memories you held so close when it came to Ken, that still loving Ken was okay even if you were now with Mitsuya. With the relationship you now had it was easier than you had expected because he had seen all of you, all of your troubles and hardships, and what you needed. There were no points of uncertainty because he was there to help you through it all. If that’s the secret to the strong bond and how it formed so fast for you two you’d be happy to say it aloud and shout it from the rooftops, although you still have your troubles it’s easier to talk to someone who isn’t being paid to listen. 

Despite the fact that your relationship with him wasn’t always like this and your feelings for Mitsuya were more of a slow agonizing burn than something that blossomed like a beautiful flower in the springtime. Your feelings crept up slowly, once treating him like a foreign object that was protruding into you deeper and deeper until you felt the ache subside, you caught yourself waiting on his calls, always happening around the same time, and just like clockwork you let it ring three times before answering. You started to miss his absence and sweet words, always knowing what calms you down when you’re more anxious about the world around you. You genuinely liked him, although the thoughts of uncertainty always loomed in the back of your mind. The guilt eats you away in random moments of the day, when you feel content it hits harder than you’d like. Would Ken be upset with you? This was his friend, his close friend to be exact and it felt wrong. Continuing on with life was something you needed to do, you had to keep going on, so why did you still feel this way? Was it too soon to move on? Should you have stayed alone and dealt with this all yourself rather than finding solace in another person? Was it fair for you to find happiness while Ken couldn’t feel anything anymore? He was gone, dead and buried yet here you are alive and tormented by nothing but the thoughts of him and what could’ve been. 

“We’ll get through this.” Mitsuya’s voice brings you back to him, his voice was as quiet as a whisper but came through so loud in your head. He always has a way of bringing you back down. Your throat still hurt and you could still feel the drum of your heart pounding against your chest. “We’ll get past this.”

Past this… Past Ken… God, if only he was still here. You wouldn’t be like this, you wouldn’t be in pain and constantly having a battle within yourself, you wouldn’t be– 

“I love you.” Mitsuya’s voice cut in. 

Suddenly everything stopped; time, sound, your breathing. The words that left his lips danced around in the atmosphere circling around you both. You raise your head and look at him, lavender eyes wide open as he stares right back at you. He’s terrified, the silence in the air making him more nervous than he’d like to be. 

It slipped, of course he feels that way but he didn’t want to say it until he was absolutely sure you felt the same. A childlike way of going about things but who could blame him when you looked the way you did right now, you were stunned, you might as well have been hit with a stun gun with the way you seemed to be frozen just from three simple words that carried so much weight to them and worry was now creeping up on him, God knows you’ve tried pushing him away before but now this just might be the final blow to send you running away from him for good. 

“Say it again.” You speak up, albeit quietly and unsure of the words that you had just heard but still understood by Mitsuya. 

He swallows down the fear that creeps up his throat, the look he gives you is uncommon yet raw, shifting to face you more, his hand grazes up your arm until it rests against your cheek, and his thumb brushes against the soft skin as he takes a deep needed breath. “I love you–” 

Mitsuya felt your lips on him before he could finish let alone process what was happening. Your eyes squeezed together tight and hands squeezed around his wrist even tighter. If a single kiss could condense a million thoughts and promises in one, this would be it. He kisses you back, lips forming against yours and bleeding all the passion between the words he said to you behind it. Your lips were warm and soft against his which was a stark contrast to your bodies, his was cold to the touch; chest pricked with goosebumps as your warm hands roamed over him. He snaked an arm around you quickly tugging you closer all while shifting to hover over you. You feel his weight bare more on top of you, one hand holding himself up as his other slides under your shirt just enough to feel your skin against his. 

Your skin felt like a million fireworks were being set off on top of it, the way his hand set them off in an instant made you feel so many things: excitement, regret, acceptance, guilt.  

The thought of Ken slips into your mind. Of all times to be here, you thought. You were always so shy with him, the memories of your first time flooded in like a dam that had finally burst. His face; rosy cheeks and the beads of sweat that graced his body, he was praising you the entire time, telling you how good you were doing and how beautiful you looked under his body. His hands; how strong they were when you finally switched positions, he so easily lifted you up and brought you back down his cock with such ease. And his mouth; the way he effortlessly spewed such filth on top of the sweet and loving words he’d call you. And his-

You shake those thoughts away, needing wanting to focus on the man in front of you. 

Your hands find their way to his hair, fingers grazing the side where his tattoo stays hidden. Strong hands find place at your waist and soon fingers dexterously hook into the waistband of your bottoms and tug them down.

He wishes he could take his time with you, wanting to go as slow as he can to savor this moment, but the way he’s tugging your top off and pulling his sweats down he can’t help it. Your hands move quickly as well, tugging at his boxers with a slight tremor. Nerves running rampant at this very moment, you want this, you need this with him. You want to get this right. 

You’re both so sweaty as his cock is thrusted back into you continuously. The oversensitivity for how long you two have been going is catching up to you and tears well up in your eyeline ready to fall. Just a little more and you’ll get there, teetering on the edge of ecstasy and falling back down to losing your high. 

Mitsuya’s thrusts weren’t rough but were just enough to pull the small whimpers from you. His hands were on your hips pushing you deeper into the mattress with every thrust that kissed your walls, it was needy, the way your legs hooked behind him pulling him deeper and deeper just chasing that high you couldn’t reach. Your brows furrowed in frustration and he saw that, he saw how you’ve been trying for so long just to finally cum. His thumb pressed into your clit rubbing small, quick circles to help you but that barely did anything. 

Your walls fluttered around him for the nth time that night but almost like a mental block you don’t reach your peak, your walls stop gripping around him while a pout forms on your face and a huffed out sigh that was quietly heard. You couldn’t get yourself to finish. 

Mitsuya swallows thickly as the words he’s about to say cause a deep churn in his stomach. “If you need to say…” he swallows them down, hips slowing down in the process yet still flush against yours, “his name. If that makes all of this easier for you, then say it.”

You snap your head up to look at him. Disbelief filling your brain from the words he just said. His name. Say Ken’s name…

“Takashi-”

“It’s fine-fuck.” He groans, his hips slowly pulling out until just the tip then slowly thrusts back in, a certain fervor behind it that makes your ears ring. His pace picks up, the shallow sound of his hips meeting yours until another groan leaves him. “You need this.”

He leans down and his lips latch onto the sweet spot to your neck, licking a stripe up until you visibly shiver. Your arms hook under his own, holding him tight against your chest. His own groans of pleasure in your ear spurring you on further. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, tears finally falling past your waterline as you allow yourself to think about him, bringing those thoughts you so desperately tried pushing away earlier this night. You think about how Ken would grab you, hold you, kiss you, touch you. Imagining that he was the one to touch you now, cock buried deep within your walls and groaning from how tight you squeeze him. If you thought hard enough Mitsuya’s voice melded into his, the same deep vibrato you loved to hear, especially in the morning. Mitsuya’s cock buried in you soon blended in your thoughts of Ken, finally feeling as if it was Ken who was fucking you.

His name slips out of your lips before you realize what you’re doing, a gasp rips from you as you open your eyes wide. You meet Mitsuya’s pretty purple eyes that are already staring down at you. You couldn’t decipher what it was; he had a different appearance behind his eyes. “Again.” He says before thrusting into you harder, each thrust of his soon becoming rougher than the last and hitting all the sensitive spots inside that make you choke on your own moans. 

“Fuck…Ken.” You moan his name, this time a bit louder than the last. You clench down tighter than you have for the night, you were so close, Mitsuya could tell from the glossy look you had. 

“Come on baby, cum for me.” His voice was desperate, he needed you to cum, he needed to feel you unravel underneath him even if it wasn’t him who you had on your mind. 

He leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, hips slamming in rougher that had you squealing out. His tip hitting deeper the harder he fucks up into you. You look up at him seeing that his eyes never left yours. “I love you.” is all you utter before finally crashing down. Body shaking as you orgasm, Mitsuya’s hips sputter as your own orgasm causes his, a flurry of curse words leaving his lips as he paints your walls with his cum.

It’s silent in the aftermath, just the sounds of heavy breathing from the both of you and the sound of the blankets shuffling as he pulls out, laying beside you. 

You both are at a loss for words, how has someone as pure hearted as Mitsuya lasted this long in a world so cold and fucked up? How did he end up with you? Were you also just the last string left he had left of Draken? Had his feelings been blinded by the pain he felt from losing him? How did you end up with someone so kind and understanding? Knowing no one else in this world would have the patience that he has had for you. How did a once calm night turn into tension that couldn’t be cut with the sharpest blade? 

You really fucked up this time, you both think to yourselves. 

Eventually, Mitsuya turns to flick the bedside lamp off, soon enveloping you in the darkness that you felt was your heart. You felt the blankets now cover you as you were pulled into him, the warmth of his body and his arm holding you tight allowing you to feel relieved in some way, you still felt cold inside, nonetheless. A sigh leaves both of your chests while you close your eyes and let the darkness take over. 

The last thought before falling asleep was of Ken.

Oh, how you missed him. 

If only it really was him.

networks: @enchantedforest-network @bitchcraftinc @ghostqueue

[bullet-and-brain]

no one really talks about this but dan heng and pom-pom could have a Really Funny dynamic, btw. theres one scenario in particular that i would like to propose:

> pom-pom, who, despite the obvious irony, will not allow pets on the astral express. they’re convinced that the maintenance and cleanup would actually send them into overdrive- five trailblazers who “secretly” love to aggravate their conductor is enough of a challenge. they keep their shedding to an absolute minimum, but won’t allow pets due to their own inability to do so (though this policy applies to all animals, regardless of the presence of fur).

> dan heng, famously simple guy who is Definitely Human, who has kept his draconic heritage a closely-guarded secret. even after revealing this part of himself to protect his crewmates, he continues to inhabit his ‘human form’ most of the time- this is largely due to trauma warping his self-perception, fueled by his own reflection. thankfully, it does get better.

better, in such a way that dan heng can sometimes stand his own appearance, or that march occasionally gets the pleasure of touching his horns. better at wielding his cloudhymn magic on a regular basis, even if only to refill his glass in the dead of the night.

(naturally, something has to go wrong, because the entirety of the universe is absolutely out to get him. it’s not on the same caliber as being impaled cleanly through the heart- this is ranked much, much higher on his list titled ‘suffering’, because dan heng has just begun to get comfortable in his own skin, and pom-pom thinks there’s a pet on the express.)

the patience of a bipedal, toddler-sized rabbit should, under no circumstances, be tested- dan heng is a man whose will to live has since been rekindled, and so he keeps his antics somewhat close to a minimum. with this in mind, the conductor is willing to give their dutiful archivist the benefit of the doubt when faintly-glimmering turquoise scales begin to litter their dustpan. perhaps it’s an art project of sorts, or the grooves within the soles of someone’s boots have trapped shedded relics from a snake-infested land. it’s only when pom-pom comes across stray fur that the situation becomes increasingly difficult to ignore; it’s not of the short, plush variety that, on rare occasions, annoyingly sticks to their clothes. no, this is strand in particular is so long that they almost mistake it for human hair, an otherwise easy conclusion to make if not for the distinctive teal hue and slight wave pattern. pom-pom has no doubt in their mind, some naughty passenger is smuggling an animal aboard the express, and they WILL get to the bottom of it.

(cue a ‘family meeting’, in which:

-dan heng wishes to evaporate

-the conductor learns of what actually happened on the luofu

-nobody else can go two seconds without muffling their laughter in a way that discards any hope of subtlety)

i wish they interacted more in the game ajajhshs. also for anyone who wasn’t aware, there’s actually post 1.3 (i believe?) dialogue where pom-pom asks what happened with dan heng, because he’s being too secretive or wtv. they eventually drop it but that’s what prompted this

[plague-karm]

Right time to analyse this shit because god dammit I have been silently making theories about this show the second I saw the premise I’m about to become the most annoying person on the planet on god so LETS GOOOOOOO-

First things first the animation looks fucking phenomenal (let Kevin Temmer cook, that man can do no wrong). Also Caine the guy ever, he is the silly and I love him wholeheartedly, he’s just a fucked up little guy who’s living his best life fr.

And also NEW CHARACTER HELLO.

They do be circling though.

THE SILLIES ARE HERE LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOO 🎉🎉🎉

Smiling Gangle spotted ten seconds before disaster, no thoughts head empty indeed.

ALSO I WASN’T EXPECTING STUFF OUTSIDE THE CIRCUS BUT IT’S A WELCOME SURPRISE WHOA

They have come to steal your credit card information.

The thoughts I had of Ragatha being the lone brain cell keeping everything together were completely correct I CALLED IT- (it has been said by Gooseworx that she has been there the second longest so she’s probably gotten used to the zaniness by now…maybe)

A door that leads to a void?

Maybe it has something to do with this room in the teaser trailer? Possibly.

Tumblr sexyman spotted.

''If there was a way to leave I'm sure we'd have all left by now''

They're ✨suffering✨

This caught me off guard when I first saw it lmao (holy FUCK I love Zooble's design, they're everything to me).

''Welcome to your new home...AND your new body...''

So they're aware that they were human before they entered the circus? That's interesting considering what happens in a few seconds (I'll get to that soon). It's also worth mentioning that Gooseworx has stated that their clothes ARE a part of their bodies.

Case in point...

At the end of the character introduction compilation Gooseworx posted to their YouTube channel Pomni is heard saying something along the lines of

''How do I...take this...headset off?!''

I saw a few people theorizing about her talking about a VR headset and that was how she entered the circus to begin with (I had the same thoughts until very recently). However, considering how much of the visuals and character designs are based on old media (also a teaser image was set up as the menu screen for a retro game), I'm beginning to think that this isn't the case.

So it's incredibly likely that Pomni is actually talking about her jester headpiece since she can't take it off.

This scene is probably the first time Pomni sees her new body, pinwheel eyes and all.

''I'm fine with whatever, as long as I get to see funny things happen to people''

I love him he's so unbothered.

I'm sad that we didn't get to hear any dialogue from them but I can't wait to see them in the pilot! Kinger is love, Kinger is life.

''After a while you start to realise that you really can't leave, and constantly chasing an unattainable goal will start driving you a little crazy''

She's a little fucked up actually wow who saw that coming.

It sounds like Ragatha tried to leave a few times and just resigned to her fate after a while, her description DID say that she was the ''sweetest little optimist in the digital circus'', so maybe she's told the others that escaping is impossible and that they should make the best of their situation instead? (Also the framed picture of the right looks like some kind of void, a lot of void imagery here).

Also, Gooseworx released this image a short while ago and it has the same background that Ragatha had while she was talking so she's DEFINITELY talking to Pomni here.

''OH GOD! WHY CAN'T I REMEMBER MY NAME?!''

EXCUSE ME? Okay time for some more speculation. I knew that their names definitely weren't their real ones but I wasn't expecting them to forget them!

Now, since the premise is said to be centred around Pomni and the others getting messed with by AI and their traumas, maybe instead of forgetting what their names were, they actually REPRESSED their memories from when they were human due to the trauma they went through? (Which would include their names)

I don't buy that they've COMPLETELY forgotten who they were (Zooble is aware that the body they're in isn't the one they used to have so I'm guessing everyone else knows that too.)

I'm guessing that their human lives absolutely SUCKED and they've now repressed their trauma to the point where they can barely remember who they were in the human world, this is just speculation.

''Thank goodness this is all a dream, right Pomni?''

What a sassy little guy (it's so weird hearing Michael Kovach sound so reserved, he's normally feral as hell playing these kinds of characters). The little mannequin symbol on the door is probably there for when new people stumble into the circus.

She's definitely seen some shit, I wonder what it could be though?

OH MY GOD THERE'S MORE OF THEM 😭

Wow this background looks...oddly normal. The only thing I can think of this being is Pomni witnessing a flashback of her human life before she showed up in the circus.

''You completely lose sight of who you are and why you're even alive and when you reach your breaking point something REALLY terrible can happen''

OH? Okay speculation time again. This is the closest hint we've gotten to what exactly one of the gang's traumas could be. Ragatha may have forced herself to stay positive in really shitty situations during her human life which likely lead to a lot of negative thoughts which eventually lead to her doing...something, I'm not sure what though, maybe it lead to her losing an eye? (Maybe her new body represents that?) I'm not sure. Maybe this is why she's been in the circus for as long as she has, instead of dealing with her feelings and existentialism, she instead continues to try to be someone who's more adjusted than they actually are.

Again, this is all just speculation, maybe it's just an Infinity Train type of thing where they can't leave until they learn to accept what they went through and how to work through it healthily idk.

WHAT THE HELL IS THAT? Well, I'll tell you what I think it is.

I think it's this weird tar like tentacle thing from the teaser trailer, I don't see what else it could be.

And I'm 90% sure that whatever it is, it's connected to this room, and I think that THIS is gonna be where we'll be seeing what the gangs traumas are (Ragatha looked TERRIFIED when she was grabbed so if this was the case I wouldn't be surprised). I'd also like to speculate that this could possibly be another AI. There's Caine, Bubble, and whatever the hell those little shape creatures are, so it's very likely that other AI does exist, we just haven't seen them yet.

But who knows? I'm probably looking too much into it.

Woah new background, he is angy.

I would go into another theory I have about how their designs may hint at what trauma they have but I've spent over an hour writing, compiling trailer screenshots, and speculating every individual frame while suffering with chest pains I wanna go to bed

Holy shit that took WAY longer than I thought it would. I cannot WAIT to watch the pilot, this show has become one of my most anticipated projects of the year over the last few months and I can't wait to see what it has in store.

TL;DR: The trailer looks fire 10/10 can't wait for the inevitable Pomni plushes.