#i know the breeze that pushes through those curtains is so comforting

[svearehnn]

sunlight in burgundy pt.2 | azriel x reader

Summary: Azriel recommends you another book and in return you read with him in the library.

a/n: I didn't mean for it to be this much of a slow burn but here we are lol. Hope you enjoy!

It wasn’t long before you finished the book that Azriel’s shadows had found for you. Another venture outside your room had not happened–rather, you stayed in, afraid to come across someone else, someone new. Madja had made you privy to the knowledge that only three fae lived in the House of Wind, yet, your first adventure within the large castle had proved futile to your desire to stay hidden.

You huffed, turning over in your bed as you pulled the covers up until darkness encased your vision. You didn’t want to leave, but you were bored. There was nothing to do except stare at the dark blue walls and shut the curtains tight when the House opened them. You needed to go get another book or you would go insane. 

With a sigh, you took slow maneuvers out of your bed, shuffling into your slippers that were far more exquisite than anything you had ever owned before. You pulled a cream-colored sweater on over your head and a pair of leggings that held tight to your legs before you opened the door a crack with taut lungs. Your eyes flitted this way and that, ears straining for any presence of another, but you came up empty. With that comforting knowledge, you stepped out of your safe place and hid in the shadows when you could as you made your way back to the library.

The mahogany doors greeted you with the same menacing smile, causing a knot to form in your throat. You gulp it down and, with shaking hands, push the doors open. A crackling fire greets you rather than the chilled breeze, filling the room with a fond comfort. You take in the familiar walls of books, the floor to ceiling windows, and the luxurious furniture that held the same shadowed figure as last time. His hazel eyes were on you, a soft smile gracing his features, casting him in a heavenly glow that you were afraid you imagined. 

“Hello,” he greeted, reining in his shadows as they began to float toward you with intrigue. You took a step towards him, eyes downcast yet nervously meeting his every couple of seconds.

“Hi.” You answered, fingers twiddling with rings behind your back as you tried to keep your nerves under wraps.

“Did you come back for another book?” You nodded, another step forward as though your feet were acting without your brain’s permission.

“I enjoyed the one you gave me.” You muttered, voice softer than the crack and pop of wood beneath orange flames. Azriel’s smile widened at that, his shadows seeming to dance around him.

“I’m glad to hear that. Would you like another recommendation?” You met his eyes again with another nod, breath held as you finally took notice of the male through the veil of fear that rattled your bones. He was rather lovely with his tanned skin and sparkling eyes, the freckles adorning his nose and cheeks giving him a charming glean. His features were sharp and defined, lips falling in a natural pout with a defined cupid’s bow. Azriel was gorgeous, far more so than the other fae males that you had met.

“You still there?” You blinked and pulled yourself out of your thoughts and back into the present conversation. His lips were still stretched in that gentle smile, his thumb once again marking a page in his book. Heat bloomed in your cheeks as you nodded.

“Sorry,” you murmured sheepishly, glancing down and then back at him, sensing a tad bit of amusement coming from those gleaming eyes of his.

“I asked if you had any preferences.” Azriel stated, his voice a lulling purr that calmed your racing heart. 

“Um…” After a moment of contemplation, you shook your head, eyes wide and brows furrowed. “Sorry, I don’t know. I liked the last one.”

He chuckled and slowly stood, stretching his wings with a shake. “You have nothing to apologize for. I think I have one in mind for you.” A shadow flew to his ear before roaming down the shelves, multiple others trailing after it. He took a tentative step toward you and you didn’t back away even though your mind was screaming at you to run. Something in your chest was blooming–it was warm and bright and it wanted you to stay. So you would listen, for now. At least, until flight overcame the newfound strength that had begun to fill you.

“How has your stay in Velaris been so far?” He asked, a hand snaking through his dark locks and mussing them up even further. You let out a slow breath, eyes locked on his mesmerizing ones.

“It’s been alright. I haven’t left my room much.” Azriel nodded and took another miniscule step, one that you barely noticed.

“You should come have breakfast with Nesta, Cassian, and I tomorrow. I can promise you that they are both great fae. Nesta’s a bit sharp around the edges, but once you break down her walls she’s a rather good friend.” A hum buzzed from your lips, mind lost in thought as you weighed the pros and cons. His shadows came back then with a leather bound book in hand, their wisps darkening the hallway of shelves for a split second before reaching their master’s side. He was close enough now that his shadows washed over you, cooling your clammy skin as a few began to traipse along it. 

“Sorry about them,” Azriel muttered as he scratched the back of his neck, the tips of his ears turning a light shade of red. “They’re curious about you.” Shadows slithered up your legs and arms, the sensation similar to being submerged in water. You smiled softly as you admired them.

“It’s alright.” He took the book from his remaining shadows and handed it to you, his gloved fingers grazing yours for a split second before he dropped them down to his side. You ran your fingertips down the spine of the burgundy book, feeling the softness of the worn down leather as if the spine had been cracked a hundred times.

“Through the Wilderness,” Azriel blurted out, startling you for a moment. “The title. Through the Wilderness.”

“Oh.”

“It’s fiction about wolf pups surviving after their mother is shot and killed with an arrow. It’s quite good.” You nodded, lips pressed tight as you noticed a swirling in his eyes that resembled the darkness of his shadows. Pain of some sort, you could tell.

“Thank you.” His shadows floated back to him as he smiled, that look in his eyes gone with only two words. You clutched the book in your hands and held it to your chest, glancing to the doors behind you before focusing back on him, knowing your safety was beyond those doors. Yet, this male that you had met only once before was beginning to resemble those satin sheets and velvet curtains that you coveted so much.

“If you want to stay here and read, you are more than welcome to. I can step out so you’re comfortable.” It was as though he were talking to one of the frightened wolf pups in the book with his head bowed and his voice softened. Your eyes widened, taking in his words with a lick of anxiety.

“Oh, no, I don’t want to kick you out.” 

“I don’t mind–”

“What if we read together?” The words fell from your lips before you could stop them and you winced. You didn’t know where this was coming from. A week ago you were scared of this male, and now you were asking to read with him? You were starting to think you were losing your mind from locking yourself away in that room for so long.

“I would be happy to, as long as you’re okay with that.” You nodded hesitantly and swallowed the knot that had formed in your throat. Azriel smiled and took back over his assumed position on the couch. He opened his book without another word and began reading, his eyes roving over the words thoughtfully and swiftly. You observed him for a moment, noting his subtle movements like the way he flipped the pages with just his thumb, or the way he would gently blow that one lock of hair that kept slipping into his view. 

You closed your eyes and took a steadying breath before timidly advancing to the couch, taking a seat on the side farthest away from him. Azriel didn’t comment on it; he continued to read, his shadows looming over his shoulders as if they were studying the page too. A shaky sigh left your lips, and you pulled your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them and opening the book. There you immersed yourself in the book, surrounded by the fire crackling within the hearth, the winter sun hidden beneath light gray clouds, and the scent of mist and cedar.

[fizzytoo]

[optimist-pine]

Dream

Summary: in which Daryl discovers something about his heart

Warnings: Typical TWD content

Word Count: 1,021

Era: Season 4, the Claimers

A/n: The most selfish thing I've ever written - but also my favorite <3

Wooden boards creak beneath the soles of his boots as he climbs the stairs of the cozy cottage. Beside the front door, using the wall as a brace, he toes off mud-caked shoes, adding them to the pile of others, all smaller than his own. Dried clumps of dirt scatter about, some falling through gaps in the porch to join the barren ground below. The lanky old tomcat abandons sunbathing to rub lazily against his pantleg with a purr, and Daryl appeases him with a good scritch under the chin.

The screen door is unlocked as always, and as he crosses the threshold into the home his heart settles into a comfortable lull. A breeze flows in through open windows, ruffling faded curtains and artwork made by tiny hands taped to walls; fluttering the pages of a book laying open and knocking over pieces of a board game strewn about the floor. It fills the space with the gentle sounds and smells of early summer. Blooming flowers and birdsong.

He sets his kill down as he passes through a kitchen that bears the remains of freshly baked muffins, few left intact in an abundance of crumbs. Out of a cooling teapot wafts a pleasant blend of lavender, cinnamon, orange, and clove.

He pauses for a moment before the back door, listening as laughter and high-pitched squeals echo just beyond it. Then, pushing his way to the other side, his heart leaps. He's barely taken a step when he's bombarded.

"Daddy!" Voices shout as a tangle of little arms entrap him, tiny bodies clinging to his legs and stepping on his toes. A baby's happy shrieks add to the clamor of giggles as he ruffles sun-warmed heads, attempting to tug his feet forward.

But then they get him down and he lands with an 'oomph' in the soft grass, sharp elbows and knees clambering across him like he's a new piece of playground equipment to explore. The dog's licking his face, and the baby's hands clap excitedly and now everyone's laughing.

"Woah woah woah, time out." And there you are. You lean over the chaos with a grin, the sun framing your silhouette as tree branches sway behind you. You smell like spearmint and lily of the valley, cheeks pink from working the garden, and as your hand comes to rest on the slight bump of your belly he knows he's never seen a more beautiful sight.

"Did ya leave somethin' dead on my table again, mister?" You question, hands moving to your hips in an attempt to be stern.

There's no getting away with denying it, so he'll plead his case instead. "Ain'tcha gonna help me out 'ere?" He asks, reaching a hand up to you.

You ignore it with a shake of your head. "Guilty men must pay for their crimes." With a sharp nod, you turn to the children. "Show 'im his punishment." You instruct, bare feet making way to gather up the baby who's beginning to feel left out.

Those itty-bitty fingers are too good at finding every secretly ticklish spot, and he can only hold out for so long before he has to wriggle away from their assault.

On his feet again, he reaches out and spins you toward himself breathless and spirited. "Guess if 'm already a criminal I migh' as well steal'a kiss." He says, moving his hand to cradle your bump and the little one growing inside.

"Might as well, huh?" You repeat, the smile on your face so radiant that when your lips touch an overwhelming contentment courses through him. A soft, pudgy palm lands on his cheek and the two of you pull apart to the wide eyes and dulcet coos of the baby. He cups his other hand around the little head, placing a tender kiss on top.

The little rascals waste no time returning to their ruckus, tugging at him to follow. "Daddy, c'mon! We gotta show you somethin'!"

"Yeah! C'mon, Daddy!" The voice cries.

But he's stuck in place, unable to move as everything begins to fade away.

... No... Daryl can feel consciousness pulling at him, roughly dragging him into a new day. He begs his mind to stay; to linger. He never wants to leave this moment, a memory of something that never happened - that would never happen. But he can't stop it and he wakes on the cold cement, eyes opening only to focus on the bloodied floor where a man took his last breath a few hours ago.

He knows now. He can't stay with these people. The desperate ache in his chest reminds him of everything he'll lose if he gives up now. Even if all he loses is a dream. It would be too much.

That night, ready to make his move and depart from the men while they're distracted, he hesitates, just for a second, his heart dropping suddenly into his stomach. It's Rick, and Michonne, and... you. Sitting on a log right there, so close, face illuminated in the flickering firelight. Even in the darkness, he can see the swell of your abdomen holding his future - your future.

Your eyes find him at the same time that the barrel of a gun is aimed at your head. He's never felt a fury like he does now, all-devouring and consuming...

When it's over, you pull him close, burying your face into him like you can hide away in the folds of his clothes and the beat of his heart. His arms wrap around you so tightly, and oh - how he wishes he could keep you right here, where he knows you'll both be safe and protected. But he can't.

You pull away slightly, just enough to whisper, "We're okay. We're gonna be okay."

He nods, one hand on your belly and the other bringing your head back to his chest. Just for one more moment. He desperately wants to tell you his dream. To tell you that he believes that too. But he settles for, "I love you."

Your voice echoes back, clear and true, "I love you too."

[justpoliteconversations]

Breakdown [Isekai!Reader + Legend/Marin] (Part 2)

In which you learn that predators come in all sizes.

The indulgence continues.

PART: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

Masterlist

TW: Choosing not to display warnings. Read at your own discretion.

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise. Linked Universe is the fan creation of jojo56830.

---

You weren't aware of the world for a time. Occasionally, there was pain (agony. like coals under your skin, explosions bursting forth from your damned cells). Sometimes there was relief, the gentle warmth of something sweet and light swirling through your veins like honey. But mostly, it was just numb.

The first time your eyes cracked open you did not register anything beyond the unpleasant sting of light. Tears had rolled down your cheeks, burning all the way to the hairline at your ears. A gentle (so gentle, so careful) hand dabbed the salt lines away with a wet cloth, pressing delicately against your cracked lips afterwards to moisten them.

You didn't respond. The sensations meant very little to you. Your eyes closed after a time, but the light of consciousness had left them long before that.

You came too briefly but did not open your eyes. Pressure from too small (calloused) hands were wrapped around your motionless fingers, like delicate bird's bones against your skin. Almost fragile, but for the power that resided in the flesh.

You squeezed them as well as you could, giving little more than a twitch for your efforts. The hand understood though because it squeezed back fiercely.

Someone was talking, but the words and their meanings slipped by like water through grass.

Nothingness took you just as a tiny, bird's bones hand touched your cheek.

Your eyes opened again and it was dark. You stared unseeing into the shadows of the rafters for some time, quiet and listless.

You did not know where you were. You didn't care. You were just so very tired.

You close your eyes. You open them and there is pain. Light. Movement. Colors. Burning. Pain. Pain. Pain.

Bliss. Gone.

Numb.

You opened your eyes once more and light was just creeping in through half drawn curtains. Your eyes flickered to them as a light breeze pulled the fabric into a gentle flutter.

A warm hand touched your hair unexpectedly, tenderly easing it back from your forehead while another wiped sweat from your brow. It was enough to draw your attention and your hazy eyes instinctively met those hoovering above you.

"Good morning." Sky whispered quietly, voice warm and sweet beneath the tired tones blurred around the edges. His hand was still resting lightly in your hair, thumb caressing the curve of your forehead.

You stared uncomprehendingly at the man above you. You blinked as his thumb moved to tenderly caress under your eye. You hadn't noticed the quiet trail of tears running sluggishly down your cheeks.

You closed your eyes, comforted by his gentle touch. It'd been so, so long since anyone had touched you kindly.

You drifted off to a wet, cool cloth wiping off your face.

You jolted awake, scream silently caught behind your teeth. You clawed, clutched, tore at the blankets around you, writhing as hellfire consumed you.

A warm, calloused hand holds yours, the pressure of another larger body pressing themselves close draws your attention. Your eyes flicker desperately to the person cradling your head and shoulders.

It's Twilight, dressed in a plain off-white shirt and calling out for Hyrule with forced calm. He smells strongly of musk and dog, the firm bulk of his muscles tense under you as his chest expands with each breaths.

Traveler is upon you within moments, pressing glowing hands to your body without hesitation. His tired, tired eyes overflowing with compassion and tender, vulnerable love as he gazes upon your contorted face.

Bliss, so great you sobbed in relief as the light enters your skin. You hid your face into Twilight's collarbones, so very thankful when he didn't push you away. Instead he pulled you closer and whispered softly in your hair, his hand cupping the back of your head.

You cried yourself to sleep in his arms.

But not before catching sight of Legend, hands clenched white on either side of the doorframe, frustrated, heartbroken tears beading like pearls in his eyes.

---

When you finally came to true consciousness it was to Four, well, all around you. Red was laying beside you, tucked sleepily against your arm, Green was on your other side, face relaxed in sleep. Vio was in the chair at the head of the bed, reading. Blue was missing, but you figured he'd lost patience with the quiet at some point and left.

You were confused at first, unsure of what gave the colors the impression that you approved of this kind of closeness. You had never given any sort of indication that you wanted anything to do with them. You'd made sure of that.

Then it hit you. Marin. She must have made it though. She's alive. She made it. She's here, in the world. With Legend.

The thought almost pulled tears to your eyes, but you pushed them down. Now was not the time for that. It was time to run damage control and salvage the situation. You still couldn't afford to get attached, or let them get attached to you.

One day you were going to go home- you were- and they did not deserve the heartbreak of another broken bond. And honestly, neither did you. It just wasn't worth it. It wouldn't be fair.

You needed to think.

Of course they would feel indebted to you after that little stunt you pulled. Legend had probably lost his shit and attached himself to Marin the moment he got over his inevitable break from reality (poor, traumatized bastard). The chain would have put two and two together and realized you'd done them a favor.

The tricky part would be convincing them it hadn't been intentional. You and Marin hadn't talked much, so it shouldn't be impossible.

But thinking was just so hard. You were so tired (soul crushingly exhausted), and the lies and half-truths you strung together unraveled like frayed rope in your mind. You could barely remember what you'd said to Marin.

You hoped the boys hadn't heard you in the portal. More than the loss of any viable reason to keep them at a distance, the embarrassment at your loss of control was too much to bear. You wouldn't be able to look any of them in the eyes.

'They're mine? Really?' You'd probably sounded like a lunatic, completely unhinged. The though was enough to pull heat to your face.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" A quiet voice asked from beside the bed, and your mind stuttered to a stop.

Vio had put the book down in his lap at some point and was staring at you with cool disinterest. At least, it seemed that way, but you doubted that was the case. He had a sharp glint in his blue-lavender eyes that spoke of questions beyond the spoken.

You realized, quite suddenly, that you were in no condition to go head to head with Four's most intelligent component. He'd rip you open and suck the information right out of your head if you tried engaging him in any way.

Silence it was then. It was the only defense you had, and if you were lucky it would seem like your normal behavior, just exasperated by your condition.

You turned your head towards the window, staring out at the sliver of green peeking through the curtains. You heard a sigh, then shifting.

A small (bird-boned) hand was on your face then, gently but firmly turning your head away from the window to meet blue-lavender eyes. You expected exasperation, frustration, anger even. You got none of those.

He was amused, and deeply empathetic, as he said. "I'll give you some advice, because you've done one of my brothers a great service." He smiled, a small private thing flickering like a secret between you two. "And I know I can trust you."

Your stomach dropped. They heard. They knew.

"Let it happen. You're fate is already sealed." He hummed then, impish glee starting to surface in his eyes, his tone. "Did you think Legend would just let you slip away after what you did? The man's a hoarder by trade, and that includes people."

You were just staring at him with wide eyes, stunned by this turn of events.

A smirk teased at his lips, eyes sly and glinting as he took his hand from your face and leaned his cheek onto a fist instead. Smug. "Don't look so shocked. You played a good game, I'll admit, but you never stood a chance. The others just needed a reason to drag you into the fold, and you handed it to them quite spectacularly."

'Why? How? You were so careful.'

"Wind." You breathed, befuddled thoughts spinning with the realization.

Vio was grinning now, bright and amused and so unspeakably proud of his youngest brother. "He's a smart boy. Maybe as smart as me, in his own way. He's always been better with people."

You couldn't help the spark of admiration that rose within you at the younger boy's cleverness. Even if it was at your own expense.

"It's not nice to tease people when they're feeling sick, Vio!" A sweet voice piped up, and when your head snapped over to face it you found Red's pouting glare boring into Vio from over your chest. "Don't be mean!"

"Red's right, Vio." Green spoke up, eyes still closed and you got the impression he'd been awake the whole time, listening. "It's not nice to tease others while they can't defend themselves."

You could feel the strength of Vio's eye roll above your head, but was thoroughly distracted by Red snuggling closer to your side. You glanced down at his crown of fine blonde hair spilling across your shoulder, his cheek pressing into your arm. He was so warm and sweet, delicate like a baby bird fluffed trustingly at your side.

You didn't have the heart to move away. Then Vio's words rung through your head once more and you realized it wouldn't have mattered.

They knew. They'd heard. And you were too tired and scatterbrained to wiggle your way out of the trap you'd run headfirst into.

"Hey?" Green said, peeking an eye open to meet your gaze as you turned back to him. "You claimed Four, but you never claimed us." He hummed, much like Vio and just as amused. A smug grin had crept onto his lips. "Blue's gonna be upset when he finds out, you know."

Your breath caught audibly against your will, your heart thudded painfully against your ribcage. A cold sweat broke out across your back.

Fast as a snake, Red reached over you and punched Green in the arm with a loud, painful sounding thrack. "Stop that! No games! They're still recovering!"

The colors continued to bicker around you, Red curled into your side, head on your shoulder, Green's arm flush against yours. Vio had his book in his hands again but was only half paying attention to it as he slid in a sly comment or two, never really taking either side.

You stopped paying attention after a while, just too tired to care. Care that you'd been caught wrong-footed. Care that you'd been backed into a corner. Care that there was well and truly no turning back now, no backing out.

So you did the only thing you could.

You closed your eyes, and drifted into warm, thoughtless slumber and let everything just slip away.

One last moment of peace before the storm to come.

---

I must return to the shadows to rest.

[hearteyesforjoel]

Old Man

okay okay, we’re FINALLY here, it’s finally done. i’ve had this idea stuck in my head for forever, it’s based on a dream i actually had, go figure lol. enjoy, first fic i’ve written in literal years <3

word count: 1280

jackson!joel x reader

warnings: tbh not much, a creep, heavy kissing, cheeky joel.

Content. If there was one word to describe how you felt at the moment, it would be just that. The radio playing some old country song you couldn’t be bothered with to remember playing softly in the background, not overpowered by the light chatter of the Jackson patrons. It was a quiet night for the Tipsy Bison. It had been a pretty uneventful day of patrol, the only thing keeping you going from lookout to lookout being the promise Joel made that morning before you both left the gated community.

“Sweetheart, we gotta get going for the day”, his voice still raspy with sleep as you both enjoy the comfort and warmth provided by the fluffy duvet. Your head rising and falling on his chest with each breath he took. Through the curtains you could see a peak of sunlight, taunting you to start your day.

You pout slightly, “But I love seeing you like this; so relaxed and cozy. Maybe Tommy can find someone to fill in for us? I know, tell him we came down with a cold?”

He snorted, “Yeah right. The last time we used that excuse, he saw all of those lovely marks you left on me.” Joel smirks as he recalls the memory.

“Well, I’ll just have to hide those marks this time around”, you say as you grin up at him, sliding your hand up his neck and to his scalp, pulling on his hair lightly.

Joel groans, a devilish look flashes in his eyes as he tightens his grip around you. He hums, “How about I make you a deal? If you can behave yourself today during patrol, I’ll take you out tonight. How’s that sound darlin’?”

You raise your eyebrows, “Joel Miller wants a night out on the town with me? Feel like I just won the lottery”, you tease with a smile.

Joel grins a shit-eating grin and pulls you closer. “Don’t push your luck sweetheart”, he says as he places small pecks from your temple to your neck, nibbling along the way.

You’d gotten to the bar before Joel, he mentioned having to stop by Tommy’s. Something about a new area of Wyoming to patrol. You honestly weren’t listening to the details, too excited for the night to come. You hum along to the old country song playing in the background, sipping on a glass of whiskey. The burn providing a warm comfort to the cool breeze from the fall air outside.

“Hey, what are you doing here all alone?”, you heard a familiar voice from behind you as you sat at the bar. When you turn to look over your shoulder, you saw that the voice came from one of the stable hands. Jake? James? Maybe Jason?

“Oh, no, I’m just waiting for someone”, you said with a small, polite smile. If you’re being honest, the guy always gave you weird vibes. Sometimes as you would leave for patrol on your horse, you could feel a lingering stare, leaving the hairs on the back of your neck standing at attention.

As you focused your attention back to your glass, you saw the barstool next you pull out, your pest of the night sitting down next you at the bar.

“Well in that case, I’ll just keep you company until then”, he smirked, looking you up down. There it is, that familiar uncomfortable feeling.

“Ah, no, that’s okay. He should be here any minute, I’ll be fine to wait alone”, you say as you pick at your cuticles, hoping he’ll take the hint. He laughs, resting his arm on the back of your stool.

“Some friend he is. Really, let me get you a drink, sweetheart”, he says, the term of endearment sounding bitter coming out of his mouth.

Before Jake? James? Maybe Jason, can say anything else, you feel a familiar hand rest against waist. “Should I throw your ass out of this bar or do you want to walk out on your own? Think carefully”, Joel nearly snarls as he puts himself between you and the once confident, now tense man.

He raises his hands in surrender, “Hey, man, I didn’t mean any trouble. I’m just, I’m just gonna…”, he slides off the barstool and quickly leaves, tail between his legs.

Joel turns to you, concern all over his face, eyebrows furrowed. “Are you okay? Did he touch you?”, he quickly scans your form. His big, brown eyes fully of worry.

You grab his bicep, pulling him closer to you. His familiar scent putting you at ease. “I’m fine, I’m just glad you’re finally here”, you say as smile, happy to finally have a relaxing night with the love of your life. Neither of you have had a night to yourselves, usually spending your nights enjoying dinners with Tommy and Maria, movie nights with Ellie. It’s not that you don’t enjoy the company of your family, but sometimes you just want Joel all to yourself.

“I’m sorry it took so long, Tommy found an abandoned town a few miles out, thinks there could be supplies worth the trip. We’re gonna head out first thing in the mornin’, there’s an old clinic we need to check out. Could be medicine there.”

You sigh, knowing you’ll both have to cut the night short. Defeated, you stand up from your barstool, grabbing his bicep to lead Joel out of the quaint bar. “Well, come on old man, you need your beauty sleep if you want to get up bright and early”, you tease him, sliding your hand to the back pocket of his jeans.

Slowing down his stride, Joel stares into your eyes. His once soft brown eyes, now dark, a devious glint in his eyes. Without hesitation, he grabs your arm and pulls you to the side of the bar, away from any prying eyes. His actions surprising you.

You inhale sharply, your whole body heating up from just the simple touch on your arm. “Joel? Joel, what are you doing?”.

He quickly pins you against the brick wall behind you, caging you in between his arms. Joel leans in, his lips grazing your neck, his warm breath bringing chills to your skin. You’re breathing heavily at this point, your insides practically begging for him to do something, anything to alleviate the burning desire within you. Joel begins to coast his lips up from your neck, your jaw, and finally hovering over your own. With heavy eyes, you both stare into one another’s eyes, waiting for the other to break.

You can’t take it anymore. Finally, you give in and roughly bring your lips together, his chapped, yours soft. Quickly, you bring one hand to comb through his dark hair, the other to rest against the back of his neck. His own grabbing at your waist, placing one hand to your neck, just under your jaw. Softly, you whimper against him as he bites your bottom lip, allowing him to take control of the kiss, his mouth exploring your own. You sigh heavily, the hand in his hair pulling on his roots. He groans, pulling away from the kiss, both of you gasping for air.

“Where did that come from?”, you whisper, slightly out of breath.

Joel smirks, eyes still heavy and burning with want, “You wanna call me an old man, sweetheart? Let me show you what this old man can do“. He grips your hand, pulling you back onto the street, beginning the short walk back to your shared home.

There it is, that fiery desire that only Joel can ignite.

Yeah, you were in for a long night. Maybe you’ll tell Tommy you both caught a cold?

______________________________________________

if you read all the way through this, i love you.

thank you so much for reading, i definitely need to keep writing, ya know, leveling up my skills.

prompts and requests are always open and welcome! xx

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ I Will Follow You Into The Dark ♡

♡ Pairing: boyfriend!felix x fem!reader

♡ Genre: cotton candy fluff

♡ Summary: After a long night filled with tough emotions, an early morning bubble bath cuddled up with your boyfriend while he tells you a story is the perfect thing to ease your mind.

♡ Word Count: 1.2k-ish

♡ Warnings: It's briefly mentioned that the reader has gone through trauma in the past that led to a breakdown. You're in a bathtub together so, ya know, no clothes. You get a little flirty. Kissing. Mention of a snake bite in the story he tells you.

♡ A/N: Tonight was another "let's be all in my feelings night" so, as always, please hop into the feels with me and partake in some fluffy sweet comfort.

It’s early enough in the morning when you slip into a warm bubble bath with Felix that it feels like you’re the last two people on Earth. The small window above the vintage clawfoot tub is cracked, allowing birdsong to float freely into the room on the coattails of a crisp autumn breeze. As you curl up between his legs, your head tucked comfortably under his chin, he brings his arms around to embrace you.

Lilac blossom scented bubbles cling to his arms, dripping down your chest and shoulders to rejoin the others that float atop the water. You haven’t turned the lights on yet, leaving you tucked in the shadows, partially hidden from the sliver of light that breaks through the pleated cotton curtains. What little light that does reach you soaks your skin in rich amber. “The sunlight,” he says, “Makes you look sweet.”

You look up at him, smiling soft as autumn leaves falling from trees when you realize he’s been staring at you this entire time. “It makes me look sweet?” “Yeah, like honey. I could just eat you up.” Kisses rain down on you, a tender yet ruthless attack that has Felix holding you still as his lips jump from your cheek to your neck to your shoulder and back to your cheek again.

It tickles something fierce, leaving you unable to do much else besides kick your feet and giggle. Water splashes onto the marbled tile floor, clusters of bubbles sailing across puddles like ships out at sea. Felix couldn’t care less about causing a small flood, every bit of his focus is on you. He only stops when he’s satisfied, kissing your cheek one last time for good measure just when you think he’s done.

Together you gradually settle into a space of quiet tranquility. There’s no awkwardness. No underlying pressure to do or say anything in particular. You’re here in this moment together. Just the two of you. Your love for each other prominent enough in its essence that words aren’t necessary. But even in the comfort of his arms, emotions from last night linger within you.

Your trauma, you do what you can to manage it, but sometimes it comes back to haunt you. When it does it clings to you like sticky pink bubblegum on a hot summer day. Last night was one of those times. You felt lost, fully incapable of holding yourself together, so you came to Felix. The safest place you’ve ever known for your broken pieces. There’s so much distance now between the brokenness that consumed you last night and the peace you feel this morning.

A distance that grows wider and wider the longer you’re with him. “No matter what you do,” he’d whispered only a few hours ago, cuddled up behind you on his couch, “I’ll always be in awe of you.” He meant it then and, watching you zone out playing with the bubbles, he hopes that, even in your daze, you know he means it now. That he’ll mean it forever.

Felix takes your hand, placing his fingers in the spaces between yours just as the universe intended, “Hey.” “Hi,” you say, sensing almost immediately that he wants to do something—anything—to ease your pain, “I could use a story.” “Ooh, a story. What kind of story?” You pet his cheek, closing your eyes in preparation for the full ASMR experience of listening to him speak. “Dealer’s choice. I’m just here to listen.”

He pokes his lips out, pushing air from one puffed up cheek to the other as the gears turn in his brain. “I’ve got one. Okay, so, there’s this story Hyunjin taught me about. A myth actually.” “Mythology. Sexy.” you tease, lightly running a nail down the side of his neck. Felix shivers when you hit that one spot that always gets him. He tilts his head to whisper in your ear, “Did you want a story or something more...active? Cause if you keep doing that—” 

One of his hands glides down your right thigh, sending the shivers from his own body straight through yours. “Fine, I’ll behave,” you pout, “Continue.” You don’t clarify what to continue. Rubbing your thigh? Telling the story? He chooses both. You’re nearly glowing, clearly pleased with his decision. And so he begins—

“There’s this ancient Greek myth about Apollo’s son Orpheus who fell in love with this really gorgeous woman named Eurydice. It was love at first sight. He saw her and just knew she was who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.” 

“How romantic,” you sigh, eyes still closed, blissfully unaware of the adoration in his eyes when he speaks. He just knew. 

“Very much so,” he agrees, continuing the story, “So Orpheus and Eurydice. They were married shortly after they met. Not everyone supported it but they loved each other. That was all that mattered. And they were happy. At least until Eurydice died. There are lots of different versions of how she died. Most commonly it’s a snake bite though.” 

Felix bites your cheek a little, hissing like the cutest snake on the planet. If this is the snake bite that ends you, you’ll take it. 

“Losing her…he wasn’t able to accept it. So, with the gods’ protection, he traveled to Hades to bring her back. Once he reached the underworld he played a song for Hades that was so beautiful he was offered a deal. Eurydice could return to the world of the living but she couldn’t walk out by his side. She had to walk out behind him in her spirit form, only becoming human again when she stepped into the light. And if he looked back—” 

You open your eyes, dramatically clutching your hand to your chest, “If he looked back what?” Felix runs a finger across your neck, sticking his tongue out in his best attempt to mimic a corpse. “Dead for good. Lost forever.” “Let me guess. He looked back, didn't he?” “That’s right my smart little cookie."

"The closer they got to the world of the living, the lighter her footsteps became. He started to doubt she was following him so when they were only a few feet from the surface he looked back just in time to see the face of his love as she disappeared into the darkness.” 

Readjusting yourself in the tub, you turn to face him, your face near enough to his that the air you breathe out is what he breathes in. “If it were me would you look back?” “No,” he answers without hesitation. “Because you trust me?” He leans in closer so that his words are spoken directly onto your lips, “Because I’d never take that deal. We come out of the dark together or not at all.”

It steals your breath away to hear such a heartfelt answer. To feel him spell it out across your lips. Felix kisses you, his arms closing back around you as he fills your hollow lungs with the passion laced air of his own. It’s enough to make you cry, that he loves you so completely.

If you hadn’t woken up and asked him to take this bath with you. If you wanted to lay in bed all day with the curtains closed and the lights out. He would’ve stayed there with you in the darkness. In the underworld. Playing songs of devotion not for the pity of Hades but for the love of you, his Eurydice, until you could return to the light.

Together or not at all...

[turtlecleric]

You are doing your best to be better. To be honest to Leo about your feelings. Though to be quiet honest, trying to hide what you are feeling from Leo is about as difficult as it sounds. He just knows, he always just knows when something is up. And when necessary he will give you space, but tonight is not one of those nights.

he sits next to you on your bed his hand wrapped around yours offering a comforting squeeze as he just sits and listens. The window he climbed through to get into your room wide open. a cool breeze caressing you head to toe, ruffling your curtains. Calming you both as you try to find the words. The right words to let him know how you feel but not worry him at the same time.

“It’s never a feeling as deep as hatred” you finally manage. “ I just, really, really, don’t like myself sometimes. I am supposed to be more than what I currently am, I am supposed to be in a different place. I feel like I am constantly falling behind, unable to catch up. Like I’m drowning in myself. Like I’m constantly disappointing everyone.”

You don’t look at Leo as you speak. One part terrified of what you will see and another disappointed that’s he has to come comfort you at all. But then he takes you by your chin. Gently maneuvering it so you are facing him. You look at his mouth. Still too scared to look him in the eye. To nervous of what you will see.

“Mi preciosa . Please look at me.”

His voice is low and soft. More like a coo than anything. You can feel the affection in it, the care he has for you. You pinch your eyes closed a moment. Steeling yourself, before you slowly open them and look him in the eye. And it’s then it’s all laid bare. There is no pity, there is no resentment or sadness. He looks at you with deep understanding. Like one would the other half of their soul. Like he’s looking in a mirror. Like he can see you fully and clearly what you are. You feel naked and exposed and raw. His gaze exploring every piece of doubt you have ever harbored.

and then he kisses you. Deep and wanting. But a delicate thing all the same. You try to pull away but he holds you there. Entrancing you to continue. So you do. You stay there with him as he moves to kiss the corner of your mouth, to your neck. Sliding your shirt to the side so he can have access to your collarbone and shoulder. Peppering them with longing.

“Leo, what are you doing?” You whisper as a slow building heat begins to envelop you.

Leo looks up at you. His expression bare, no sign of his usual mask as he looks at you with a softness that makes you what to cry. “I love you.”

His honestly makes you laugh rather than cry. But a part of you breaks at the words. A part of you not ready to stop hiding you reinforce your walls. “I know Leo.”

Leo gently pushes forward his chin rubbing along your neck, in the familiar gesture of him senting you. Again he repeats. “I love you.”

A small sigh leaves you. “I-I know. Leo I know what you are trying to do. It won’t… I’m not.”

His hands fall to your sides both his thumb peaking under your shirt as he ducks his head low to the underside of your chin and kisses you where you’re soft. “I love you.” The words practically purring against you.

you feel yourself sputter. To find words to ground yourself to.

“I love you.” “Leo.”

“I love you”

you feel yourself start to break.

“I love you.” your voice becomes warped with emotion. As you give in to it. “ say it again.”

he complies as easily as breathing. “ I love you.”

“again.”

“I love you.”

you feel yourself begin to tremble. “Again.”

“I love you.”

He has you on your back now. Kissing away the tears streaking your face. You can’t stop crying. It feels so silly. And yet he repeats its again and again his voice steady with the same honestly and longing he’s had for you sense the beginning.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

His hands slide down you slowly, giving you enough time to regret him. You don’t. gently he unbuttons your pants. Slipping you out of them as he kisses your shoulder. Your shirt is next piece to be removed and so on and so on until you are completely bare in front of him. He looks at you with softness. With kindness. With a desire for you now more then ever to be soft with you. So you let him.

He bends down and kisses your tummy. His hands delicately caressing your sides as he dose. “ I love you here.”

He moves down further to the crook of your knee and kisses you there too. “I love you here too.”

your thighs your legs your feet. He kisses them all like he can’t get enough. Your shoulders your sides your breasts. His hands explore you in a reverence, that you swear should be reserved for gods alone. But he touches you in that delicate piety all the same. Like he can’t imagine a world where he isn’t touching you. Like your body is all he will ever need. Like you are the concept of life itself, he worships you fully.

finally he leans over to your ear and presses a kiss to your temple. His hands touching and pinching at your nipples as he dose. “ Will you let me take you Hermosa? Mi preciosa, Mi amor. Can I have you? Please can I have you.”

Deep heat unfurls in you as he begs for you, over and over. With a Desperation, like he hasn’t been the one rendering you to stardust by his caresses. He begs for you, like you have been the one leading him to worship this whole time. Like you had been the one to entrance him. you wrap your arms around his neck and sigh as his hands dip lower. Ghosting his fingers on your hips.

“Take me.” You mumble into his shoulder.

and he all but devours you. His mouth is in your pulse and the quick dull pain of teeth meet you on your throat. As one of his hands explores your seam and folds like he’s doing it for the first time. Worshiping your cunt with his hand. meanwhile his moth babbles on and on.

“Mi preciosa, my Hermosa, mi princesa, me amore. I love you.”

He curls one of his fingers inside you and you arch your back into him. He presses his face to your chest, scenting you and he works you open. His mouth continuing to babble “ fuck I love you, I love you. I need you, I need you. I need you. I want you, every second of every day I want you. I want my cock in you. I want to hang off of you. I want to live inside your skin I can’t get enough of you. If I could I would live the rest of my life buried inside of you. Fucking and filling you until we both are unable to tell where we are. I need you, I love you. I want to worship you.”

He presses another finger into you and your fingers curl and bite into his shoulder. He dosent need anymore to start pumping them inside you. Taking them out only to spread your slick up to your clit before pressing his palm to it. You kick your head back like you’re seeing stars.

“Don’t make me come. Don’t make me come. Get me to the edge and then stop.” You beg as he pulls the pleasure out of you. “ I wanna come with you in me. Please please please.”

He nods taking hold of one of your hands and leading it down to where he’s wet and wanting. You press your fingers into him and he moans loud and wounded. His eyes fluttering closed as he bites into your shoulder once more. The both of you fucking onto each others hands. Leo biting you harder when you feel your climax coming sooner the. You would like. Letting out a sob when he removes his hand. kissing your cheeks apologetically. His voice almost as wounded as yours as he speaks. “ you said you wanted to come on my cock remember, forgive me. Mi preciosa, not yet not yet.”

you fuck your fingers into him harder as pay back. Technically yes he’s doing what you wanted but still, the infuriation of you being denied your pleasure when you are all but begging for him makes you want to be a little mean. Not that Leo is in anyway complaining. He rolls the both of you so you’re in top of him. Giving you a better angle to finger fuck him. He’s close. You can tell with the way he quivers against your hand. His cock head kiss your fingers from where they are pressed deep inside him. He holds your hips like he dose when you ride him. God you want to ride him stupid.

“come on baby, drop for me. Drop for me. I know you want it. I know you need it. You can do it. You are being so good for me. Such a good boy.” He makes a wounded noise at your praise before dropping. Your hand taking hold of him as you lean down and kiss his cock pressing it to your cheek. Leo moans at the sight.

“Fuck me, Hermosa, please, please, fuck me.” He begs as you press on more kiss to him before sheathing him inside. The way he stretches you out will never feel out of place. You love how his cock feels like it was made for you to take. And with the way Leo’s eyes roll to the back of his head every time you allow him the honer to press inside. You feel like he agrees.

still a bit miffed that you were denied your orgasm you start to ride him almost immediately. Not giving either of you time to adjust. Leo’s hands pressing into you in a way that you know will leave pretty bruises behind. More reminders that he wants and claims you as his.

“Hermosa, hermosa, hermosa.” Hé keens out his mouth open and continuing to babble on. “I’m gonna come amore, I’m gonna come slow down. I’m gonna come.” You barel passed his pleas for you to slow down. You are too focused on your own pleasure to care, you fuck him through his orgasm. Hot threads filling you and dripping on to his cloaca and cock as you continue to fuck him. Making him immediately hard again. He teeters on the edge broken hiccuping sobs leaving him as he looks up at you with complete adoration for what you are doing to him.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He repeats. “I’m gonna come again, I’m gonna come again forgive me, forgive me.”

“come for me baby. Make me proud come for me again.” You say nuzzling into his neck. He dose. More hot threads of come fill you up right as you hit your own climax. Clenching around him taking everything. God you want his baby’s. God you want it to stick. You clench around him again at the thought and he praises you through it.

“good job Hermosa. That’s it, come on me, that’s it’s thank you, fuck thank you. You feel so good. So good. Good job.”

you both breath there for a moment. The two of you spent. Leo leans up and kisses you. Passionate and fiercely. Like he has ent already shown how much adoration he has for you already.

“Again?” You whimper against him when he dares to part his mouth from yours.

“I love you, mi amor”

(-stranger)

Oh my g od

[come-along-pond]

notes: My first box on the @occreatorexchange prompt bingo! Yes I did say I'd use democracy for this but I started writing and this is cute okay! This is set a few years after the Second Rebellion. I also made lil picture overlays because @endless-oc-creations did it and I thought it was cute.

warnings: uh, probably inaccurate descriptions of the districts.

Elara Admiral (OC) x Finnick Odair: Sleepy Cuddles

AO3 VERSION

District 4 was warm, bright and sunny. Homes by the seafront had seashells hanging from string, glistening in the lights whilst those deeper in were made of a warm sandstone. It was different to Elara’s home in 2, she was used to grey walls and the clang of metal, and she often remembered waking up in the morning to a faint metallic smell. Now, she just smelt Finnick. Every morning she woke up and he was her first thought, her first sensation, his arms wrapped around her, securing her to his chest. She felt safe and protected. That was new for her. 

Today was like no other, she awoke facing away from him, his left arm under her head whilst his right drew faint circles over her thigh. She felt a faint breeze on her neck, the consequence of leaving the window slightly ajar, she didn’t mind, the sea air calmed her.

“Morning,” she mumbles and she feels Finnick shift, grinning into her neck

“Hi,” Elara threads her fingers through the ones on her thigh, sighing in content. 

The sun streames through the thin curtains, and Elara turns so she’s facing the window - and Finnick.

His hair is messy, the bright blonde tips scrunched together, she lightly rakes her fingers through it, separating pieces, he groans slightly and Elara giggles, continuing the motion. They fall into a comforting silence, content with just each other’s company, the gentle breeze through their hair and the faint sound of the waves crashing against the shore. 

Finally, Elara breaks the silence “No surfing plans today?”

“I’d much rather stay here with you,” Finnick croaks out, sleep coating his voice

“Well I -” she pauses for effect, tracing his jawline “Have to walk to the post office to send off our letter to Peeta and Katniss,”

“They can wait,” he grumbles, leaning into her touch, and tangling his legs with hers, her tone turns teasing.

“You know how Peeta is when we take too long to reply, I already left it a day,” Finnick groans and burrows his head into Elara’s chest “Come on, the sooner I send it, the sooner you learn when you can see your boyfriend again,” It was a running joke between the two couples, how close Finnick and Peeta were, it was funny, considering how often Joanna had said that Finnick was Katniss’ ‘Work Wife’ whilst Peeta was Elara’s. 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Finnick laughs, his usual bellow muffled by her sleep shirt.

“No, no it’s okay, me and Kat know where we stand,” Elara grins when Finnick looks up at her, a fake pout on his face.

“You’re insufferable”

“I know,” she smiles and he pushes himself up,  lingering over her now, he softly presses his lips to hers and Elara closes her eyes, warm and sleepy. 

Finnick pulls back and studies his girlfriend, her hair sprawled over the light yellow sheets, she looked happy, with a slight tan and golden strands of hair, courtesy of the sun. It was nice to see her like this, so carefree. He’d spent years watching her in the Capitol, cold and disconnected, then in the 75th games, calculated. They were free now, Panem was free and she chose to lay here with him, chose to cook dinner and try to learn to surf just because he loved it so much. She was happy. He was happy. 

“You’re staring,” Elara mutters, Finnick doesn’t reply, pressing a soft kiss to her lips and laying back down next to her

“One more hour?” he asks softly, Elara looks right and into his pleading green eyes.

“One more hour,”.

----------&----------

taglist: @arrthurpendragon @bravelittleflower @ginger-grimm @dancingsunflowers-ocs @foxesandmagic @shrinkthisviolet @witchofinterest @wordspin-shares @oneirataxia-girl

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[wolfsbane44]

--Break Me-- Cassian x Azriel x Nesta

Summary: Nesta cant stop thinking about her mate, noticing someone else is watching only makes her want him more. She begs for it.

Warnings: NSFW! 18+, FILTH, ABSOLUTE FILTH. f! masturbation, Oral (f!/m! receiving), bondage, choking, praise kink, penetration, dp, unprotected sex, bisexual tendencies, Dom/sub/switch, ITS ALL HERE!

This is lengthy (hint hint lol) but YES SO WORTH IT!, Let me know if you want more. 2903 words.

Nesta had been thinking of Cassian all morning. Through training, through her horribly bland lunch of eggs and toast. The way he had come undone just at the touch of her hand through his leathers. Her hand slightly grazed the spot on his wing that made him come crashing down from the stars in the hallway in the House of Wind. She knew that Azriel had been listening to them- just as the next morning when she let Cassian fuck her throat. She was so raw that she could barely speak that afternoon when Clotho had given Nesta her daily work assignment. Level 5 was where she left off yesterday, knowing that was what awaited her brought comfort as there weren't many priestesses to talk to. Letting her body, mind, and throat rest. 

Nesta thought she saw Gwyn out of the corner of her eye but when she turned no one was there. She spun around to resume her never-ending reshelving when before her stood Merrill. Knowing she was about to get a tongue lashing- not the kind she preferred- Nesta took a small breath- to let her thought to pass over her and let it go. Her Valkyrie training had proven its value time and time again when the gods-forsaken Merrill came to visit her. Drowning out words for breaths letting each thought wash over her and then leave. Her mind wandered to her mate. Cassian. She wondered if he enjoyed the taste of what she could do for him. Hoped it left him longing for more. Wondering why Azriel listened in each time, longing to interrupt. Merrill finished her argu- bitching- that's what it was, all she was good at anymore. Ever since she found Nesta replaced ONE book for Gwyn. 

Nesta sat in her bath soaking after she had cleaned up. The house had offered her a new scented potion that she had absolutely decided was her favorite. Lemongrass and ylang-ylang, the scent of desperate longing spring. Maybe Nesta decided after all just because one bad thing came from The Spring Court didn't mean it was all bad. She had thanked the house for the gift, acknowledged with a breeze from the curtains in the bathing room. As quickly as that wind had started it came to a halt. There was a soft and gentle knock on her door. Not Cassian, his was much heavier, more urgent- needy. Azriel. Nesta yelled for him to come in, reaching for her towel and robe. One look at the shadowsingers face let her know what he was thinking-needing. She knew he hadn't bedded anyone in years, although she couldn't imagine a night without some type of release. Even at her own hand. She had never seen emotion on Az’s face before other than when he let people see it. She knew this was pure desperation, he wanted her to know. “Cassian and I won't be back in time for training tomorrow so Clotho agreed to let you work in the morning and train in the evening.” With those words, Az was gone just as quickly and quietly as he had come.  

Nesta settled into bed, fresh clean linen caressing every new muscle and curve. Welcoming her bare skin into warmth. Her mind floated to her mate and what he could do to her. She had taken him in her mouth. All of him. In her mind that itself was a victory as she had never seen a man or high fae with so much to offer. Cas often joked about his wingspan being proportionate to his member, she just thought he was kidding, but now knew that to be true. Wingspan… Azriel had an even bigger wingspan than Cas, she wondered if that too had --cauldron blessed she needed to quit thinking about this. She could feel her wetness and heat at her core. She tried to push her mind back to her mate and think about all of the ways she wanted him to take her. On the bed, in the bath, on the wall, the dining table, the private library, she wanted to feel his tongue against her bud. Wanted not to just see and hear his reaction to his first taste of her core, but what he would feel. 

This thought had Nesta squirming in her sheets. She lowered a hand to her breast and kneaded it as if it were Cassian's hands touching her. Leaving a sharp pinch on the brim of her nipple as she let her hand explore further. With her other hand on her breast, she explored the wetness between her soft but swollen folds. Arousal pooling on the bed below. Her finger began working slow gentle circles on her clit. Occasionally dipping down to collect wetness and bring it back up. Nesta brought her fingers to her mouth and suckled on them, almost whimpering at the thought that she could beg Cassian to do this to her. She knew he would make her beg for more, so she teased herself. Letting those small circles roar into quick hard passes to stop and plunge her fingers into her core. Spreading herself out, she didn't want to cum. She wanted to be stretched out and absolutely fucked raw before that release. 

She knew Azriel and Cassian had left to deal with lord knows up at the camps so she was alone tonight. She knew she could do whatever she pleased. She asked the house not to snoop on her prior and to completely disappear until she asked for it to return. Knowing that she was truly alone she made her way to the private study completely nude, carrying a stone-hard phallus in her hand. Nesta splayed herself before a window, seeing the stars and the city below, no one knowing what she was doing. She felt the cold stone in her hand and introduced it to her entrance. Teasing and whining- there were no stopping her moans when she had thrust it inside. Feeling the stretching, slightly painful but beyond pleasurable. Her other hand returned to make small gentle circles on her clit. Sliding the member in and out of her ever so gently at first had now turned into hard and fast thrusts. Nesta felt that tightness in her core beginning to wash over her just as she heard footsteps behind her. Fuck.

“Holy Mother” Azriel whispered. Cassian standing next to him with his own arousal hardening in his leathers, siphons glowing a bright firey red. Nesta quickly collapsed and covered herself with whatever she could find. Embarrassment and anger came to her already blushed face. She didn't know what to say, as both men looked at her in awe. They weren't supposed to be home, they had told her that! Something must have happened. Neither said anything, but Cas swallowed hard. Nesta didn't get her release and both could sense this in her- sense her longing. “ I can help you if you want” Cas finally breathed. Nesta stopped and thought of what she truly wanted. Them both. “ I am calling in my bargain…. To both of you,” Cassian's eyes shooting daggers at Azriel. Nesta had told them that she wanted them both, she admitted to knowing Azriel had lingered, listening to everything days prior. Cas had his argument already blasting in his mind but Nesta stopped him. “ I know this isn't the first time you two have pleasured a female together is it?” 

Cas didn't answer but instead, Azriel let out a small chuckle. “ You think we haven't been down this road before sweetheart? I know more about his cock than even he does!” Cassian began laughing, almost to cover up the hurt that his mate wanted someone else. He pushed that thought away, giving in to what she requested. “Are you sure you can handle both of us” Cas stated. A grin began making its way across her face when she felt the coolness of the shadows creep around her. They wanted to do this right, not in the library but in her bed. So every time she touched herself after this she would long for the pleasure they brought her tonight. They carried her into her bedroom and gently laid her down. A tingle soared across her back and her arm, where she knew that tattoos that sealed their bargain had begun to disappear. It was about to be completed

All at once lips were crashing into hers, hands to her breasts. She felt Cassian nibble at her breast, giving her a quick inhale that left Az smiling at her mouth. The look on their faces now primal. A Low growl escaped Az’s lips as his hand quickly came up and grasped her throat, bright blue siphons gleaming with pure power, relaxing into the grip she heard him say “How rough can you handle?” She could barely get out the words “ Break me” before they began working her. She knew Cas was large, but seeing the growth in Azriels pants made her wonder if she should be second-guessing herself now, but the more it grew the more she wanted all of him. Both of them. 

Nesta felt fingers and shadows lingering down at her core. Of course, they both wanted the same thing. Cas --agonizingly--slowly pushed two digits into her. Curling up to find her sweet spot. Her body shuddered at the pleasure it sent through her. Taking his hands from her core he brought them to Az’s mouth, offering him a taste first. Azriels eyes darkened and his wings widened as he pushed his own finders inside her then brought them up to Cassian's lips to taste. This alone seeing them both feed each other her wetness, her taste, the selflessness of it…the fucking thoughts that flooded her head. She needed them now. “ Not so fast darling” Cassian jabbed at Nesta. “You are going to watch us first.” With those words shadows gripped her wrists and ankles, pinning her to the bed. 

She was left whimpering and writhing in a pool of her own wetness. Watching those men run their fingers over each other's backs and wings, Cassian brought his hand to Azriels cheek. They had been through so much together, five hundred years and they loved each other more than anyone could possibly love. Looking so long into each other's eyes before they began their passionate kiss. Cassian reached for Azriels member, rubbing up and down. Nesta only now realized that both were completely undressed, completely hardened and wings began stretching out far as if an indicator of their pleasure. Blue and red lights gleamed and danced across the room. They only stopped when they had heard poor Nesta. Absolutely a mess and begging to be touched. They looked at each other, Az giving Cas a nod. Cassian's mouth was on her before she could react. His tongue swirling in all of her juices. Growling through his most primal instincts to breed her right here. Those vibrations sent tingles up Nesta's spine into her very soul. 

Azriels shadows still holding her down and open for Cas, letting him take in all of her. He knelt beside her head as Cassian continued to work her core, Nesta feeling that tightening beginning to build. She begged Azriel to fuck her mouth, she wanted to be filled in every way possible. Harshly grabbing her face he hissed at her to shut up so he can fill her. Before she could come up with a snotty remark, Azriels tip was at her lips. She licked a small stripe across his head, sending his eyes rolling. “Good girl” Azriel whimpered. Those small but powerful words sent over her edge as Cassian had now been pumping his fingers in her and circling her clit with his tongue. He begged her to cum on his face, letting him feel and taste all of her arousal. Nesta screamed as she came crashing down into her high. Azriels cock fully thrusting in and out of her mouth, his shadows still gripping her down. Azriel pulled out to put his hand around her throat and Cassian still pumping his thick fingers in her pulled away from her clit. Both men telling her how beautiful she was and how they were going to be here teasing her all night. “I have never seen someone be able to take all of me in their mouth, let alone continue to as your orgasm ripped through you,” Azriel stated, glancing over to Cassian who was lining himself up with her swollen entrance.

Azriel let go of Nesta's throat, and released the shadows, letting Cassian take control now as he could see the begging in his eyes. Cassian pulled Nesta's body to his at the edge of the bed, he lined himself up and slowly, inch by everloving inch allowed Nestas pretty little cunt to swallow him. No one had ever taken his cock so well, knowing the sheer size of it was pushing deep into his mate. Pure bliss in her eyes. He began ever so slightly moving. Nesta grinding on him, meeting him thrust for thrust. Azriel moved behind Cassian to his ever-so-sensitive wings. Ilyrians were known for their wings to be just as sensitive, and some could even reach their high just by caressing them. Azriel knew Cassian's favorite spot on his wings. Reaching a hand to his left-wing making slow small circles biting Cassian's neck. Hearing a cry from not only Cassian but Nesta. His thick member touched Cas’s backside. Begging him to be touched, but Nesta wanted them both. She begged through whimpers for them both to be inside of her as Azriels cock replaced Cassian's. Not only longer but stretching her further. She was cumming in seconds around him. Cassian's mouth smashed into hers to hide her sounds. Sounds those men knew only they could bring from Nesta and no other woman. 

Picking Nesta up off the bed Azriel continued lifting her up and down on himself allowing Cassian to come behind her. She had never done this before but she trusted them, They both had saved and protected her countless times before, knowing they wouldn't harm her and would stop if she asked. Feeling Cassian's tip plunge into her from behind was another wave of painful pleasure she was not ready for, removing one arm from around Azriels neck to place it on Cassian as he plunged himself into her. Azriel positioning Nesta for both of them now. Nesta craned her head back to Cassian's ear, leaning her head on his shoulder. She had never been filled like this before, both entrances begging for release as they thrust together. Azriels pleasure became closer and closer, he shot a glance to Cas, who put his hand around Nesta's throat. Az still moving her for the both of them Cassain moved his other hand to Azriels wings. Knowing the touch would send him over the edge. Small delicate circles brush the innermost part of Azriels wings. He began moaning and spilling himself inside of Nesta. This warmth had her seeing white as she just came down from her high, only to begin a new one. She could not truly see or hear but only felt the pleasure as his steaming juices poured into her. “That's it honey, good job, come on our fucking cocks” Azriel hissed into her ear, his siphons glowing along his body. Clamping down on Cassian sent him over the edge. All 3 cumming within seconds of each other. Azriel and Cassian not looking away from each other. Azriel did not stop moving Nesta until Cassian was fully empty. Slowing his movements so Cassian could kiss his mate. “Fuck, you are such a good girl,” he moaned bringing her back here to Prythrian from wherever her high had taken her. 

Eyes fluttering open Nesta let out a small breath. Azriel handed her to Cassian as he pulled himself out. They knew she had been the only woman ever to be able to handle them both like that. With their sheer size alone not many had wanted to even hint at the idea of them both inside her at the same time. Azriel placed a kiss on Nesta's head and wished her good night after he drew a hot bath to clean her up. He would give them their space for cleaning up while he fixed her bed. Barely conscious she allowed her mate to clean her, carrying her to the bath, holding her. Making sure he washed every part of her ever so gently. Bruises danced along her wrists, ankles, and throat. A smile formed on his lips knowing she loved every second of what they had done to her. 

Nesta sipped on some chamomile tea that Azriel had brought her as Cassian continued to wash over her entire body. She had asked to be broken and they truly had delivered. Sleep falling in her eyes she leaned on her mate. He let her, adjusting himself so he could hold her better in the warm water. “ I love you” is all she could mutter before drifting away. Cassian dried her off gently as though not to wake her. Carried her to her bed where Azriel had replaced the sheets and had warmed them. Tonight was the first night that Nesta did not wake screaming from fear or her nightmares. She knew she was forever safe with them.

[zeldaseyebrows]

Chapter One of Sacrilege and Sororities is out!

This is the botw Grad School AU I’ve been talking about forever and finally am publishing. I hope you all enjoy!

Summary: After an assassination attempt, Link and Zelda must live together and navigate the impending Calamity, grad school, strange dreams, and their complete disasters of personal lives. One of those things is more difficult than the others.

Pairing: Link/Zelda, OG Link/Hylia

Rating: E

Excerpt:

“I hate him!”

Zelda narrows her eyes with the vengeful focus that comes after consuming copious amounts of spirits. However, her righteous anger would be more chilling if she wasn’t hunched over a toilet bowl in a sorority house bathroom. The cute sand seal printed shower curtain surrounding the claw foot tub destroys any sort of gravitas Zelda’s tirade could have possessed.

“So I’ve heard,” Urbosa replies.

So I’ve heard for the past hour, Urbosa thinks, shifting to get more comfortable on the cool bathroom tile.

Even though it’s already 2am, it’s still going to be a long night. But she’s a loyal friend, and would never leave Zelda in her darkest hour. Even if it means missing the party she’s hosting or getting puke on her skirt or having to listen to Zelda rant about her poor appointed knight and bodyguard for an egregious amount of time, Urbosa’s in it for the long-haul.

Zelda wipes her mouth with a piece of toilet paper Urbosa passes her then continues her drunken rampage, “He’s just so… short! And everyone thinks he’s such hot stuff, because he can do athletics and kill things and looks like –and I quote verbatim– a ‘sexy little androgynous jock stoner elf.’ But they don’t have to see him at 5 a.m. But you know who does?” Zelda smacks her hand against the toilet bowl in emphasis and raises her voice even more. “Who does have to see him at 5 in the bloody morning when that monstrosity of an alarm goes off so he can do push-ups and pull-ups and sit-ups and all the other ‘-ups’ and make me feel bad about myself?”

Urbosa, demonstrating her infinite wisdom, does not answer the rhetorical question. A crisp spring breeze flutters the lace curtains and sweeps through the bathroom. It brings the sounds of intoxicated women laughing and dancing and cheering. Urbosa wishes for the thousandth time that Zelda could just be a happy drunk like them.

Balling her hands up, Zelda shrieks, “Who does? I do! I do because my awful father made him my bodyguard and my accursed roommate. All because he pulled that dinky little sword out of the stone while he was camping.” Zelda contorts her face and pretends to brandish a sword but ends up bashing her arm against the toilet lid. “Oh, I’m Mr. Sir Link Perfect Arse Chosen Hero and I’m barely clearing 5’3” on a good day, but everyone and their mother still wants me. I’m so quiet and stoic and annoying and I wear a stupid little knit beanie and have a motorcycle and a ponytail because I’m soooo cool. Look at me!”

“His beanie does make him look like one of my ex-girlfriends,” Urbosa mumbles to herself then refocuses.

“He’s such a little weirdo and I think he’s in love with his ratty old crockpot. If he even can feel love, since he’s as empty inside as a kiddie pool after it gets drained because someone’s shat in it. He even named the crockpot. Its name is Brenda. Brenda the crockpot.”

Urbosa draws upon every single ounce of willpower she has in order not to burst out laughing.

[pvrkacciosan]

The Heart of the Flame: ☽⋆01⋆☾

The End to the Mountain

The Heart of the Flame Masterlist

Previous Part

The room is the utter essence of contentment, the wind silent, air warm. A early morning breeze blowing a pleasant chill into the room, the suns beaming rays grazing her cheek.

Visenya spent many mornings like this, laying awake in the comfort valley of her bed. The blissfully silent expanse of the early day. The calmness soothing the ever burning flame inside, it had been easier to manage before, but the last fifty years had been rather unpleasant despite her seemingly pleasing morning routines.

It had been about fifty years without her father now, the days had stretched far and wide, expanding that ever growing hole in her heart, the longing for the friend and support rock that was her loving, overly protective and somewhat annoying father.

Her memory of his was pure warmth in itself, giving her endless amount of love and never making her feel lesser then anything.

Managing without him never seemed to get any easier. She could only hope he was in good health, surely she would know, some of her instinct would tell her if something had happened, she was sure of it.

But that knowledge had never managed to cure the near constant churning in her stomach that some days made it impossible for her to leave the floor of her own bathing room. Those days were few and far between now, gracing her with their presences as often as her cycle, maybe slightly more.

The cool sheet covering her pillows were like ice against her flush cheek, but in a way that forced her to take in a fresh breath of air into her lungs, holding it in Enya groaned through a stretched, which arched her back and had her toes curling into the piled blankets hanging off the end of her mattress.

A loud echoing knock broke the fluentness of her muscle burning stretch, second after a dark skinned figure dressed in a white and gold dress flew in, as though she was being carried by the wind itself.

It was like a stab each time she saw her best friend, Vania, her friend could easily have passed as her father's daughter so much Visenya often found herself wondering if her friend and her had somehow been swapped by the Mother at birth.

Vania was so similar to the High Lord of Day, dark skin, the white flowing dress that cut low at the front, exposing the smooth valley of Vania's chest, golden embroidering and seams holding the pieces together, Vania's limbs and digit showcases a varying amount of golden jewelry, her favourite had always been a golden chain that hung across her brow which Enya had given to her once they both reached maturity.

"Ennie, you can't keep sleeping in like this, the Day is still young, untouched. Let's Live."

Enya had come to love Vania's seemingly unending enthusiasm to everything Day court, damn her friend even dressed like their High Lord.

"I wasn't sleeping"

Vania crossed the room, the peaking of her almost bronze thigh appearing and disappearing from under the slit up the side of her dress,

"But you're still in bed which is basically the same thing" her friend moved across her room with the unwavering swan like grace she alone seemed to posses,

"It's not actually, Besides I'm enjoying the pleasantries the Day court has to offer from here" Enya waved a hand towards the open balcony doors, the silk white curtains blowing lightly away from the floor, she didn't care in Vania saw the gesture or not

"But you can't have been, because I wasn't here" Vania, swung open the door of the closet, eyes scanning the clothes within, she angrily shoved options around inside as she contemplated. Her curls of dark hair flowing as she looked back and forth.

Enya pushed herself into an upright position, piling some of her blanket into her lap, offering a quick, "But you're here now?"

Vania pulled a beige coloured dress from the wardrobe, almost ignoring Enya as she inspected it, them plucked a forest green undershirt from the depths of within.

"I'm not staying in here while you sulk, so neither are you" Vania turned only to dump the cloths onto the end of the bed, atop the discarded blankets,

"I wasn't sulking"

"Sure you weren't, just like you haven't done every morning for the past fifty years"

Enya shot her friend the most scathing look she could muster, the movement of her muscles in that expression felt foreign, not often having use for it.

Vania gave her a beaming smile of white teeth, "Be down once you're dressed, we have work to do today" she patted Enya's leg through the top of the bedding, practically marching to the door with purpose, Vania shot her once last smile before she shut the door over.

They had come far since her father was taken fifty years ago, for the first few years Vania had to help Enya get dressed in the morning, as the daughter of the High Lord she was to take over while he was away, whether he would ever make it back to them Enya had never let her mind wander that far, or perhaps Vania had never allowed her friend to get to that point.

Enya had never actually thanked her for it, but Enya had been there when Vania lost her mother, so perhaps this was just her returning that sentiment.

Throwing the rugs of blanket off her legs Enya plucked the clothing from the bed. The undershirt had long thin sleeves that clung to her arms which had seemed to grow thinner over the previous years.

Vania was right in so many ways, Enya had known this for a while. Some unspoken voice at the back of her mind had told her time and time again that her father would have never wanted her to act like this. That thought alone had sent her to her bathing room for a few days, unable to uncurl her rock heavy body from the floor, Vania hadn't been able to even get her out of it.

The beige dress had straps that came over her shoulders, clamping onto little buttons above her breasts, she quickly moved about the room, finding her small brown satchel which she had thrown into a small pile in the corner of her room the night before.

The brass button on the satchel had the symbol of the Day Court marring into the metal, the inscribed sun detailed with small swirls and lines. The small button a searing reminder of who she was, who they all were.

Enya hadn't missed the weakening absence of her magic since her father had been taken, she had never been great at possessing it, more like it sometimes wielded her, but she had seen how her father absence had affected everything else in their court.

The days less bright, celebrations not as vibrant, like all the light and magic that made the day court what it was left with him. Whatever power he still had access to managed to keep the land livable, but she couldn't imagine how the other court might be faring, she's never left their borders to find out. But being one of the courts that had rebelled Enya could imagine that Day might be having it harder then others. Despite Winter and Summer, who too have defied Amarantha's reign at the beginning.

The female's name was like a sour taste in her mouth, Enya didn't know how her father had managed to keep her hidden from the commanding bitch, but she had gotten used to hiding most of her life, she doubted anyone outside of Day knew of her existence.

She didn't allow herself to dawn on those thoughts for a second longer as she strode to the door, Vania was leaning into a wall across the hall when she left her room.

"Finally."

Enya didn't allow for her friend to tease her further, linking arms at the elbow they both made the venture out of the Palace, down into the city below. The buildings drew low lines in the sky, breaking apart the beams of sunlight lighting the steps from the palace. 

Warmth swamped her, in the streets below the mid morning tasks were already at hand, A small stream of people acknowledged their presence with curt nods and some small words of greeting, despite the friendly nature that was associated with the Fae that hailed from the Day Court, these people were downtrodden by the years of oppression and Enya knew all too well how they felt.

Plastering on a soft smile, she could see the people meandering the streetways still had a little bit of that infamous Day court light in their eyes. Not all hope was lost. Vania didn't seem to have any issues, her genuine Day court grin spreading across each feature of her face, her love for this court and its people always seemed to come naturally to Vania, and the people loved her for it.

The next street they wandered onto had an even bigger stream of people, all who seemed more bright in nature, small stalls and shops were open with colourful signs, people milling around talking to one another. 

A child ran screaming past them, a wooden toy Pegasus in his hand, Enya couldn't help but smile, Her Fathers partner Meallan, with a night black coat had always allowed her to lay in his stall which he shared with his mate. Faiza, the stark opposite to her mate in ever way. Her snowy coat and feathered wings emanated pure light, a glow which outshone the darkness of her mate. Polar opposites yet, when Enya had spent days in that straw filled stall, reading through books of varying herbs their individual healing properties. She more often then not would look up to catch glimpses of them, could see the bond they both shared, an understanding and otherworldly acceptance of each other in the way only mates could.

The pair had been one of the few who had made their way back to the Day court after Amarantha ordered the majority of the winged creatures to death.

The air began to swell in her throat, a dagger twisted in her gut, the self declared Queen under the Mountain, the mere thought of her name made the memories flood back.

Enya had seen her once before, when she had visited Day, attempting the peaceful approach to obtain her fathers power. He hadn't yielded then, nor did Enya believe he ever truly would. He had kept her a secret from most of the courts for years, an act of defiance that would have had him kneeling before Amarantha before he could so much as admit that he had lied the day the 'queen' had asked if he had any powerful heir within the Day court.

The events that had occurred almost fifty years ago had made Enya detest having the fiery red hair, Vania helped her cut off the long lengths a week after her Father was taken. She had kept it short for years after that, until finally it didn't hurt so much to grow it back to the lengths which she loved, the red and orange tints. Like a sunset, an autumn leaf, or the coat of a fox.

Things had gotten better once Karah started writing to them again, the Emissary from the Summer Court, finding the time and passage to communicate with them.

Enya knew those years hadn't been easy on her friends either, Karah would have moments were she just wasn't quite herself, but rather a deeper side of herself which had unwillingly become exposed when her family died. Enya had never met Karah older brothers, but she's heard them to be proud, powerful males who fought on defending others until their last breath.

The idea of losing more then one loved person at once had Enya heart wrenching, She knew Karah had at least three older brothers, and one a couple years younger, her parents also perished, getting Karah to safety. Enya had only lost her father to Amarantha, but he had been everything she had every had, the only family she belonged to. She was still blessed that her father was still alive, when Karah's were not.

As though Vania had somehow managed to interpret where her friends thoughts had drifted to, she stepped in an inch closer, bumping her hip into Enya's as they walked, looping their arms together at the elbow as they continued down the street.

Enya was glad for the comfort, even more glad that Vania didn't press her with questions either. A silent agreement for peace.

They continued on in the noise of the mid day activities of others, heading directly for the Healer's huts which dotted about the main street, there was seven to be exact, Vania and Enya owned and worked one, with a mix of high fae and faeries running the others.

Their healer huts came into view as they turned the slight bend, it was more of a wooden shack with the tiled slanted roof had small bought of moss scattered across the top.

The duo walked straight for the door, arm in arm they brushed past the various plants each with healing properties, planted in rows out the front, framing the pathway leading to their shop entrance.

The heavy thick door didn't creak as it usually does, Enya squints at it before moving inside. Vania hadn't seemed to notice the lack of noise so Enya brushed it off, moving over to the stock room at the back of the alcove. They had not long just cleaned out the back room, after they found a mouse's nest around the back, the little beasts got into their supply of chamomile.

It had taken them nearly a week to recount all the supplies, it had kept Enya's mind busy, so she hadn't complained about it. Spending time inside with Vania also never had it's dull moments.

The shelves were lined with jars, glass and ceramic, filled with a wide variety of herbs and healing solutions. Looking into their stock was humbling in a way she often sought, the Dawn court had a vastly larger stockade of healing aids, their High Lord well transverse in the subject.

Karah had told her stories of his abilities when she visited, bringing gifts of new herbs for them to try out into their store.

"We have a small number of patients today. Not counting any emergency walk-ins" Vania called through from the front room.

"Mr Beaumont, is coming back later, it's noted down that he wishes to see you for his appointment. He's the last one scheduled for the day" Vania appeared in the doorway to the stockroom, a red leather books, which they used as a diary for appointments, in hand, resting along her forearm.

Enya sighed, "He does realise we can't keep giving him pain tonics, he doesn't require them anymore"

Vania smirked, looking back to the page a humorous expression developing on her face the longer she stared at the notes written there, "He's probably asked for you cause last time I just gave him sugary water"

Enya laughed, shaking her head. She could picture Mr Beaumont's squinted face once he realized he hadn't been giving the correct thing. It was an amusement that brought a new light of joy to her heart.

The shop began to grown in warmth around the day, The two females lapping up the heat, many of their days were simply warm. It was the only way to describe it, vibrant and bright.  Despite the High Lord's absence the past fifty years, the court still resided in its usual traits.

Enya began taking inventory in the back of the shop, soundlessly working, listening to Vania sing and hum whilst she worked in the front room, the occasional draft making its way to Enya when the door was opened, the cold gathered in the floor across and under her legs.

They continued the day in this routine, contempt to do so until Mr Beaumont made his appearance, 

"Oh Ennie," Vania's soft humming mellowed into a cheerful call, her body resting into the door frame, "Your favourite patient is here to see you" the amusement plaguing her friends expression made Enya squint up at her, 

Rising quickly Enya dusted her hands off her dress quickly, throwing a rolled up ball of parchment at Vania, the high fae female dodged it with ease, a fluentness Enya had never managed to achieve,

Padding into the front room, Enya smiled softly to the ageing male in front of her, though his skin did not crinkle like that of a mortal, his soul was old, one could simply sense it. The way one someone might sense the innate shift in the air when someone was watching you, even from the shadows,

"I need stuff stronger this time." Mr Beaumont, dragged a flailing hand onto the newly dusted desk, tapping a single finger there. 

"No problem, How is things?" Enya always knew the question was difficult to answer for many people in the court. Mr Beaumont included had family missing to the tunneling camps Amarantha enslaved them in beneath the mountain. 

The night her father had hidden her from the self proclaimed ruler, he had just managed to hide away many of his people, knowing the females retaliation was soon to hit their court, she had hit Winter before them, Karah had been visiting the seasonal court at the time and had sent warning ahead as she rushed home. 

Perhaps it was the reason Mr Beaumont now sought the pain meds, to forget the grievances he had gone through after losing his wife, daughter and grandkids to the Commanding bitch.

Enya piled a small packet of bark from a willowing tree. The silken inner layer of bark, when chewed on held healing properties, not as potent as the one they had given him before but a relaxant enough to sooth his turmoil. 

She had dropped the pouch onto the wooden desk between them, Mr Beaumont smiling happily at her when the screaming began. Enya's blood ran icy cold inside her veins, despite the seemingly everlasting heat in the air around them.

Vania was beside her instantly, the two female pushing for the door when they saw bodies rushing past.

"What the..." Vania shoved open the door to their healing hut, the voice of many panicked running high fae and faeries rushing past, children in their arms dragging others as they went, a blind panic that could surely become lethal if not controlled soon.

It was then they could note the alarm ringing almost silently through the air. A warning to the citizens to stay hidden for one of Amarantha's beast was present. They hadn't been unknown to snatch some of the less useful members of the court, taking them to the camps deep within the mountain itself,

Vania had been working in defence systems to hide their people, quickly the alarm and scouts being the Court's first line of defence without a High Lord to sense the beasts on their borders. Vania broke off at a run, her white dress billowing out behind her as she sprinted up the street. 

Enya whirled, wedging the door open, Vania stood at the end of their lane, waving people in. Enya shoved them into the shop, once it was full she turned and warded the door, nodding to a female faerie in the window, an infant clutched tightly to her chest.

Vania had already taken off down the second street, yelling for people to get inside, the demanding ringing of the alarm had died, but people still moved frantic panic emerging in chaos. Enya watched people slip into people's houses, complete strangers allowing an exit to any to far to hide inside their own homes.

The cheerful stalls had been colterol damage to the panic, some of the stalls being knocked down and their contents spilled out across the streetway. A child's cries broke the air, 

Enya saw Vania duck into help some. Enya circled frantically, looking for where the noise surrounded the epicentre of fear. The small boy hugged the Pegasus figure under his chin, clutching it as though his life depended upon it for his survival.

Enya's soft sole leather shoes slapped the pathway, Hurrying for the child as the air drew quiet, scooping him up into her arms, she carried him back towards the palace, she needed to hide. Amarantha could not know she lived, for everything that had been sacrificed she couldn't find out now.

Hugging the little boy tighter, his arms clinging to the sleeves of her dress Enya pushed her legs faster, the extent of her strength draining with each slap of her feet against the stone. The world fell restless around them, Enya dropped into the bunker at the palace entrance, warded by her own magic. She sealed the patches behind her, collapsing onto the floor, 

Many other faces stared widely in fear, expressions softening when they recognised the High Lord's daughter. She held a thin finger to her lips, ears detecting a slight of movement on the surface outside.

The boys cries had turned to sniffles, she could feel his tears seeping through the thin material of her dress. Everywhere in the court, citizens hid, waiting for some sort of signal that it may be safe to emerge. Holding their very breath.

Every muscle in her seized to stay wrapped around the boy, if using her body to shield his own would keep him alive then she would do it.

"Enya" Vania was close enough to be heard, but that didn't mean Enya knew where she was, Laying the small boy down, ensuring he had tight hold of his Pegasus, a female reached forwards hugging him onto her own lap 

"Keep him safe okay?" the boy's fear gave way for a small shroud of determination on his little face, hugging he wooden toy to him. With a little nod.

"Stay here" she whispered finally, rising back to stand. Those hiding spoke nothing as Enya slipped back out, onto full view of the expanse at the front of the palace.

Walking around, Enya felt the sudden drastic shift in the day. The world falling away as Vania held her stare, a soft smile parting her lips, a surge of magic in the air brought everything back to life some continuous flow warmed the ground beneath her feet.

Enya would recognise her father anywhere, even after almost fifty years.

It only took a few strides to reach him, throwing both arms around his body. Enya clashed, rocking both their bodies back, High Lord Helion of the Day court chuckled, hugging himself around his daughters figure. Remembering each line of her body as it molded to his own, He was home. 

After Fifty Years. 

The High Lord, her father, was finally home.

[disasterghaster-moved]

Oscar Meyer has a first name.

I don’t bother to use the bench press anymore. The ghaster matter can move whatever weight it pleases–any weight I please. It’s not made of muscle fiber, tendons, and bone. It’s made of will and whatever it manages–what ever I manage–to put together.

I try not to think about it.

Instead, I focus on other parts of me. The parts still made of meat. Curls and squats and lunges and whatever else I can pressure myself into doing before the whole matter seems overwhelming when I feel constantly empty.

I manage a full set of excercises today. Something of an achievement. Usually I miss one or two sets. Or all of them.

I make it this time, though. Closing out on the specially designed treadmill. I don’t go as fast as I can. I’m not qualifying for the supernatural track and sprint or anything. I’m merely confident that I’m good at a full sustained run of 110 for twenty minutes before I start to sweat too much. Breathing too hard, too. An improper dismount jars my knees when I hop off to the side and come to such a sudden stop.

I end up sititng on the ground as the muscles in my legs burn. Maybe I really pushed it just then. Or I haven’t been drinking enough water. I rub my thumbs and palms along hamstring and calfs until they’re intermittently barking about the strain I put them through and my lungs no longer burn.

I take my time standing up and getting a towerl off the rail of the mil and due a little swipe of my face and back of my neck. Since I’m in the privacy of my gym in the expanded basement, I give the girls a quick dry off under my A-shirt.

Towel goes into a hamper when I pass it on my way back up the stairs to the main level of the house. By then, the juice the work-out soaks my brain with during fades out. The world goes back to feeling slightly sideways. Like everything is one of those crooked photo frames that never seems quite straight or level with the rest of the wall. Every day feels like that anymore.

I ignore the bit of jello feeling in my legs as I travel up the next flight to the second floor. Getting to my bedroom and ajoining bath before long. Something in my neck and shoulders droops as I pass into the sanctity of that space. It’s quiet there. Black out curtains are a bit ajar so the room is brighter than usual, but that’s alright. Cool fresh air breezes in through the open window and makes it feel less like a self-imposed tomb.

I leave the bathroom door open and flick the light on in there. It’s harsh in comparison to the rest of the lightning I keep in the house. I don’t always use it, usually just go by a nightlight plug into the socket next to the mirror and sink. But I need the light today. I want to cut my hair.

I got caught up looking at my reflection instead. I’m reminded of days where metal chafes at my throat and my wrists. I was thin then, too. With piano wire muscles strung tight along bones. I didn’t have so many lines on my face back then. Or much hair. Inky fingers, off black and almost gray, scratch through the couple inches growth on much of my damp scalp until they wander higher into much longer and darker hair at the top. Pulling tie out and tossing it into nearby basket that held the others I used.

That hair is long and reaches an inch or two past my shoulders. Tying it all the time makes it crimped in some places. I know it’s wavey even if it weren’t. I notice there’s more streaks of white there than there used to be, too. I already knew about the thick banded streaks above my ears in the shorter hair. I think the color seeps into other places due to stress more than age. Could be age. I don’t know how long someone like me is supposed to live if they make it to a ripe age.

About then, I remember to pull off the eye-patch. It doesn’t hide a dulled eye. They're the same anymore. Same matter my hands are with dots of ambiently glowing purple. It’s a comfort to wear the patch. Like a reminder of who I am. It helps me mentally control how much I see or don’t see. The world is so many layers of information if I don’t. Much of the time, it’s too much. I don’t need to see every little creature peaking through the mirror or what type of rock the nickle backing was refined out of. Takes a few seconds to tune it back out without the patch helping my psyche retain a muscle memory for it.

I pick comb out of a seperate basket and take to working knots out to one side of my head. Then the other. Then back so I can tie it up neatly again. A thick bristled boar brush and a bit of water, and touch of comb, helps me seperate the long and the short with great accuracy.

Then it’s time for clippers. I debate a few comb length attachments before, as usual, I decide to do it with a naked blade. It would grow back. Would also leave a fine centimeter of fuzz until it did. After fetching a black plastic trash bag I use for just such an ocassion from under the sink and lay it over the sink, I set to work. The buzz of the clippers is medatitave after a few moments of hair falling onto the plastic under my head. The buzz is comforting in my hand and against scalp. I have to switch hands at times and can feel the vibration in my fingers still.

I work it around the sides and back quickly with a few reruns to make sure it ends up all the same length. Feeling with fingers to ensure what I couldn’t see.

The fine work of lining the sides and back of the longer patch take the most time. Don’t want to fuck it up. I have some practice, though. It doesn’t take too long.

When it’s done, I keep over the plastic filmed sink and take boar brush to it just to work out as much of the smaller clippings as I can. Off my scalp and shoulders and back of my neck. Satisfied, clean the blade and oil it, then return it under the sink. Clippings are wrapped up and put in the nearby bin. It’s a bit wasteful, but it makes it so I don’t have to clean the sink. I can sweep the floor later. 

Off peels my shirt and the sweatpants. Those go flying out into my room for now.

On comes the hot water in my shower. I wisely sit out the first cold minutes on the closed, chilled, lip of the toilet. Head in hand.

All of these things are a practice of not thinking too hard as I watch the water patter on the shower wall in silence. A practice in functioning when it’s the last thing I want to do with myself. There is nothing else I can do. Semi-retirment allows me much more idle time than I allowed myself before.

Into the shower I go. Closing curtain and taking a spin under water to rinse off loose hairs before having a seat on shower stool with back to the water. The heat soothes out my back nicely. It’s a while before I pull over toothbrush and paste.

Taking a shower is a whole ordeal when I’m not in a rush. Starts with teeth.

Takes a tough and big brush to handle my teeth the further back you go. Doesn’t hurt to be resilient against the roughtness of my tongue, either. I realize, with some dismay, that I’m out of orange toothpaste. Might have to suffer mint if I can’t find another supply. Bleck.

I don’t know if it helps to do this, but I leave the suds in my mouth while I wash my face with vigour and some good cleansing face wash. I do this with everything that suds. Just leave it for a bit while I do the rest. Hair, next with shampoo and one of those scalp massagers. Same with the soap, I use a loofah to suds up from neck to toe. Just feels like it does more if it’s not on for two seconds and gone the next.

Rinsing is the same pattern as sudsing. 

And, yes, before anyone asks, I get the bits. I like to do that last and seperate. Those parts require getting up and spreading things out, alright. It’s work. I save it for last.

At some point, I remember my tail. After everything else. Almost bleatedly. It’s attached to me. I don’t know why I forget sometimes. Bit of shampoo for that does the trick.

Then the water comes off and I let water dip off me for a bit. While I squeeze the fur on the tail out several times. The fur there is dense and likes to hold onto water. Drying it takes time. I imagine my head would too if I had more than that little bit of hair. Of which I still take a moment to squeeze and ring, too.

By then I can step out without dripping everywhere onto a bath mat. And grap towel to dry off with. Special attention, again, to hair and tail. Then privates. No one likes to smell funky there. Towel is hung up and I leave the bathroom with a small bottle of oil for my hair and a comb.

Deaftly working light bit of pleasent lavander smelling oil into my hair with fingers and comb before it has a chance to dry. Both are discarded onto dresser afterward.

Then I flip face first into my bed. Naked and slightly damp. Energy gone. I’ve done abosolutely all the self-care I can. I don’t care that my stomach is growling or my throat is dry despite all that time, and maybe even more so, due to the shower. 

Thoughts threaten to filter in. I refuse their entry as I pull a pillow to myself and tuck it under my head, shifting onto my side where I can curl with it. It doesn’t stop a few tears burning across my nose onto the pillow. I can’t stop them as skillfully as I used to. They often come too fast and hard for me to stop. Out of the blue or over some sappy ending to a movie I wasn’t even closely paying attention to or just emotional comercials. It’s very stupid and very annoying.

I’m so tired. Always.

Even when I wake up after the sun’s no longer falling through the bedroom window. Mn. Time lost.

I sit up and rub crust off my eyelashes for a while. Coughing a few times as I make it up to my feet and over to the window. Closing the curtains. Not worried about getting peeped my neighbors so much as just wanting to be alone.

I left a half-finished bottle of water by the absurdly large beanbag under the same window that I now pick up and finish in a couple of chugs. A brief crush and tightning of cap compacts it one empty. Making it easy to pitch into trash can near the door.

I don’t feel any better. The water tasted stale.

Somehow, I still drag on some clothing. Cotton sleep pants and loose fitted gray t-shirt that said ‘show me your kitties’ with a gray tabby peering over a flat horizontal line on it. I feel a pang of guilt as I think of Tiggs. They were with someone else, I knew I couldn’t take care of Tiggs like they needed right now. Still, I missed them.

Finally, I leave my room and go downstairs to the kitchen. None of the floorboards creak. I don’t need physical strength to remember how to walk like a ghost. Or open a cabinent silently. I stare at the box of cheerio’s for a while. I know I am hungry. I feel a bit sick and my lower stomach hurts. But it doens’t look appealing. The memory of it on my tongue recalls like grit and sawdust.

My shoulders slump with a huffed sigh. Leaning forhead into the cabinent door’s edge that I still hold open.

Maybe I should hire a chef. Trick my brain into just eating things put in front of me. I weakly ponder this for a moment until it’s dashed away. I can’t trust anyone to feed me that isn’t explicitly trustworthy to me. Hire a chef? Sure. Let an assassin right in. Great idea. If they don’t filet your throat, they’ll slip some sort of poison into a chicken dinner.

The corners of my eyes prick with fustration. I just want to eat.

I close the door with more of a thud than I normally would and go to the firdge. My eyes immediately end their scan by lingeirng on the bottle of whiskey down low on the door. I take it out and set it on the counter, then look back into the firdge.

God, fuck. Everything has to be cooked in some way. Same for shit in the fridge. Even hotpockets got to go in a mircowave. Back to looking in the fridge. There’s a package of balogne and a bottle of ketchup.

I take both out and get a paper plate and a red solo cup. All get tucked into hands and arms including the whiskey bottle before I make the walk out the back door.

It’s dark out, but I can see fine in the enclosed and screened off back patio. I tick the light on anyway and sit at the table there. Nudge a couple of electronics out of the way to the otherside of the small table. A pile of sleeping things, that is. Tablet, phone, bluetooth keyboard, and a e-reader. Space is replaced with plate and accouterments in short order.

Oscar Meyer bologna gets peeled out of packet and red wax ring. Sorted out in a four-by-two formation on plate and then their centers get a squirt of ketchup. I leave that a moment to pour half a cup of whiskey. There’s a plan here. A bad one, but it’s a plan.

I roll up a slice of ketchup filled bologna and take a bite. It’s fucking disgusting in that way in which desperate and depressive food is–but ultimately tastey enough to get addicted to. It’s salty and a bit sweet. And, anyway, there’s whiskey to mask the taste with when I swish down a mouthful.

This pattern quickly leads me to being able to eat the following slices in peace. Being drunk takes away most of my taste and leaves just the salty and the sweet. Two things alcoholic brains love. It’s less of a slog then. I eat slower due to groginess is all.

I don’t stop until the package of quesitonably labeled deli meat is empty. It’s better than nothing.

By then I’ve had three half cups of alcohol and my face feels close to numb. I’m sweaty and too warm. Thankful for the chilly breeze that comes through the screens from the outside.

I’m struck with the dreaded curse of actual thoughts. Thankfully, the ones that make it are sloshy and breakup on rocks before they fully form.

Still, every so often, they linger. None of them are good. My next breath is deep, but it shudders due to my lungs having shifted down into very shallow breaths to then. I toss plate ontop of the pile of devices and lay my head down on the cool glass of the table top.

The thoughts keep looping back on a common thread and theme which forms one repeating coheasive concept; I’m not good enough.

It’s not always that sentance. Today it is.

I admit that it’s a frequent one. One that rides off the back of my lack of self-worth. One that points out that I can’t think right or talk right or love right or cry right or–well, there’s so many things. All the things that matter when every bit of your worth is tied into keeping people ‘safe’ and ‘happy’.

All I know is gaurding something that I imagine is black and ashy in my chest and lashing out in feeble attempts to protect other people.

Often, I admit while gulping down the fourth half a glass, missing the mark and lashing out at the same people that I love so deeply it hurts just to look at them

There’s other things. But it comes down to that. All roads lead to Rome.

Heh, so why can’t I get off them? I want to go somewhere else.

I don’t notice that eventually my vision blacks out along with my thoughts and my memories. I wouldn’t come to until late in the morning from the depth of my beanbag with an urgency to get to the bathroom for a good wake-up vomit.

No wonder I’m alone.

[hairpintvrns]

— TIME SKIP. 

This late into the night, with the familiar warmth of their bedside lamp absent, only the digital clock was alive in the dark. 1:17 A.M., read the neon-green display. The colon serving as its secondhand pulsed steadily with each passing moment. Time, as with memory, was beginning to slip away.

The room was still, the bed carefully made. Yet the sheets bore subtle evidence of restlessness, creases where they had been tossed and tugged. Leaning against the copper railing of their headboard, Terry curled up, knees drawn to their chest and wrapped in the comforting weight of a thick blanket. The night replayed itself, persisting alongside the vast, tense blackness of their world.

You’re right. I do pity myself, I pity the idiot that I was to think that I could be honest with you.

Even now, against the dark hour, Saul’s words rang in their head. Stark and electric. Walking home had done little to dilute the wretchedness against their chest, as it often did. Instead there was only numbness. Their breathing grew shallow and imperceptible, unwilling to disturb the stillness of the world, and the ends of their fingertips stubbornly remained cold.

With a sigh, they reached for their phone on the bedside table. Drawing a long breath, Terry picked it up with their left hand, scrolling to find Saul’s caller ID. Their thumb hovered over the “record” button before they began speaking. 

Saul. I’ve been replaying what you said in my head—and look, you don’t have to pick up. I understand if you don’t want to call me back, but I’m sorry. I am.

Their eyes focused on a single spot by the window. Here, at this vantage point, they could see only the faint outline of the moon sitting atop the sky, disrupted only by the crown of an oak tree that had stood taller than others, further made translucent by the linen curtains. They blinked to clear their vision, but it was no use. 

I didn’t mean to shut you down or make you feel like you couldn’t be honest with me. It’s always so hard with you. With us. It’s clouded with so much hurt and pain and we say the wrong thing and do the wrong thing and then go into defense mode and once that happens, when we’re both trying to win the argument, we’ve already lost. We just end up having conversations where we try to get each other to apologize, and it’s so fucking unproductive.

Their movements were deliberate, almost ritualistic, as they crossed the room to the arched window. The curtains were drawn back, and with a slow, careful push, they opened the window as wide as it would go. The hinges creaked in protest, the harsh sound cutting through the stillness.

I don’t want to see you either. I really don’t. But not for the reasons you might assume. I see you—and—I get overwhelmed and lash out, and I know that’s not fair to you, Micah, or whatever is left between us.

Their gaze remained on the giant oak, its leaves swaying in the summer breeze. A common nighthawk perched on one of its branches, shaking its dark feathers. They leaned against the windowsill, a free hand resting on the side for support, just enough to maintain balance as they hovered above the shrubbery two floors below. Here but not quite. The ledge was its own sort of limbo.

I’m autistic. Micah, he’s the only one in my family who knows. I only found out two years ago. And I keep coming back to how difficult it might’ve been, for him to live with me all those decades, for him to take care of me while I was still reeling.

Against the gravity of the words, Terry stifled the tears that threatened to break free, the clearing of their throat faint though audible.

I didn’t have anyone to talk to, to figure it out. I still don’t. I was supposed to be the one caring for him, Saul. Not the other way around. He didn’t deserve someone so broken as a mother—

—and it’s a different kind of pain with him. Different from yours. Saul, you were displaced from our lives. So I bore that resentment, sour looks, tantrums, and arguments, every time I came home. And sometimes, I don’t know how to live with myself. Because I look back and I realize that I’ve hurt him without knowing, without meaning to. All that fucking time. And I know it’s easier if I were just to pull myself out of the equation, but I can’t. I don’t know who I am without him.

But—nothing had changed between them, hadn’t it? The world would not stop at all, for that matter. It was almost comforting. That smallness of their existence. Beneath the earth’s crust, the red-hot magma would continue to churn and flow and rupture the plates overhead, even if the violence appeared to be frozen. 

But this isn’t about me. I just want you to know that it’s hard for me to process things the way you do. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to. I just need time. To process things. To try and see them from a different angle. When you ask me how I feel, I don’t always know how to respond. When you ask what I want from you, I’m not sure how to answer that. But I think that we want the same thing, and that’s to be good parents to him. I don’t expect to be on the same page with you about everything. We each provide for him how we know best, and we have two different strategies for accomplishing that. 

They shut away any other regret threatening to resurface. Even now, as they moved back towards their bed, Terry felt their quiet resolve returning. Their measured cadence returned, drained of emotion, of sorrow. They were never too comfortable for too long in this act of vulnerability, this act of sinking unto themselves and making their pain tangible to someone else.

I’m trying my best to understand—there may be some compromise here, but I can’t do it on my own. If you don’t want me around, that’s easy. I can leave you alone—but I’m asking for your patience. That’s all I ask.

The wooden floor of the cabin creaked softly as they returned to their bed, satisfied. The moment had passed. All that was left was the quiet exhale.

Good night.

saul was attempting to be cordial, and perhaps he believed he deserved a fucking medal for that. each time he argued with terry over the past twenty-nine years, saul thought he was an exemplar of self-control. how quick he was to think of a rebuttal, how quick he was to craft an insult that would cut them just as theirs cut him, how quick he reminded himself to keep some sort of restraint. to hold back before he said something he regretted for the rest of his life. with every mean word he had ever thrown at terry, there were a million more harsher things that swirled in his mind that never escaped it and a million more words that terry volleyed right back at him. it was futile. somehow, in the years after micah reached adulthood, he had forgotten how futile it all was. he would always be terry’s—and micah’s—villain. the antagonist of their story. a fitting title some days, on others it felt melodramatic and unearned. he hated the idea that terry was somehow innocent, that they never made him cry—in private, nonetheless, but still it affected him enough to produce tears—or that they never said anything they regretted in the heat of the moment. futile, futile, futile.

the restaurant had turned into a theater of war. saul could feel the eyes of other patrons on him as he sat slumped like a ragdoll in the chair opposite, but he didn’t meet their gazes. though saul and terry had perfected the art of stage whisper fights, clearly he had been out of practice. he could go for hours in a courtroom or boardroom or opposing counsel’s office, but this conversation had left him depleted of all his energy. it was the comedown, he knew. that awful period where the coke wore completely off and the sun was starting to rise and he had an hour to nap before heading into the wlrk office. his adrenaline had spiked in a way that a simple courtroom spar hadn’t done to him in decades, back when he was fresh and still had a sense of hunger. then the adrenaline left him there, silent at their fusillade.

but he loves you. he loves cassie, too. i couldn’t understand it. not until—

not until what? he had wanted to ask, but had no room before terry was off again. anyway, again, it was futile. he never said the right thing. he never made anything better. he had tried to get them to understand him, to finally tell them the truth, but they bristled at his honesty. they rejected his honesty. saul could charm any party guest or potential client, but when it came to the people he loved, he only pushed them further away when all he wanted was to hold them close.

saul stared at them. long and hard, crystal blue eyes trailing downward from their hairline to their nails. why not turn an analytical gaze upon them? how often did he feel their eyes cataloging every wrinkle, every gray hair, divining his mood by every microexpression? he saw the anger in their face more than he heard the anger in their voice, but both were glaringly apparent. in the brief lull between the server collecting and coming back with terry’s card, he finally responded in a tired tone. “my fucking god, terry. you beg me to understand things from your perspective and then shut me down when i try to explain mine. i was honest with you and you threw it back in my face. i can’t stand that.”

he had resigned himself to this truth: he would never understand terry, and they thought they understood him. this was clearly going to end in more tragedy, so saul was going to do what he did best and leave them to their disparagement. 

but then they said that.

hang onto your self-pity, if that’s what you want, it’s the one thing that’s yours.

“my self-pity?” saul spat, anger renewed as he sat up from his relaxed position, spine going straight. his lauded self-restraint was snapping. “what the fuck is that you want from me, exactly? i’m an asshole if i fail to show up for micah and i’m an asshole when i regret not being there. do you not want me to feel guilty for the choices i’ve made? do you not want me to try and fix things while i still can? seriously, ketziya, would you truly rather prefer that i just completely disappear from micah’s life, as if he’s not my fucking child?” yes, saul knew he had made a litany of mistakes since micah’s birth, but hadn’t terry, too? did they ever make a choice that they later regretted, or inadvertently hurt their son by furthering their own future? “you’re right. i do pity myself, i pity the idiot that i was to think that i could be honest with you.” 

saul stood up abruptly from his chair, “so if you would please refrain from following me around town or showing up at my practice, that would be greatly appreciated. and i doubt you’ll ever need to, but please only contact me in regards to our son. anything else can go through my secretary.” he spared a glance at the patrons to the left, who were obviously pretending that they weren’t eavesdropping, then returned his gaze to terry. “enjoy the rest of your night.”

[retroellie]

mon ellie x reader fluff where they’re trying to sleep but the baby starts crying, ellie goes to get the baby and brings it back to her and readers room, they cuddle with the baby to get it to stop crying and fall back asleep <33 super soft ellie that loves to kiss her lover and her baby please!!!!!

Summary: Readers post-pregnancy body is new to ellie being soft isn't really her thing, while she's trying to explore it the baby wakes up.

A/N: This is a bit messy and i'm not the biggest fan of it but it's been a bit lmao. Thank you for the request!! I hope i did okay :)

Warnings: Post-pregnancy stuff + hints of smut

Word count: 2.4K

Ellie watched as the curtains blew in the wind, the stars peaked through your windows. It was a chilly night but not too cold to the point of waking up freezing. The wind gave you a good amount of breeze. It was calm, still, perfectly silent.

She was pulled out of her thoughts when she heard a slight moan coming from next to her. The house was always filled with giggles, music and the loud ruckus that comes with a newborn baby. It was a safe haven to you and Ellie, this house. It saved the both of you, it kept your relationship strong.

As of right now though, when everyone but Ellie was asleep, it was quiet. Ellie used to love the quiet, it's what kept her safe for all these years but recently she felt comfort in the noise. It was a different world now, you guys were finally safe.

Ellie had been up for hours, thinking, listening to your quiet snores. She couldn't sleep sometimes and she was too afraid to tell you, she knew you wouldn't be mad but she didn't want you to worry. Even though she felt safe, probably the safest she's ever felt, she knows what is out there. She's seen what is out there, images of the world haunt her sometimes. She wondered how her kid would grow up in a world like this, would they soon turn cold just like she did? or would they remain soft like you?

She rolled around to face you, she came face to face with you. You were laying on your stomach, hands gripping the sheets. She could see how tense you were yet so calm all at the same time. You let out small hushed moans, mouth slightly ajar as your hips moved back and forth slightly. 

It took a minute for Ellie to realize what was happening, she first thought you were having a bad dream but she's heard those moans before. Usually they could be heard coming out of her when she was deep inside of you showing no mercy. When she realized what was going on she couldn't help the devilish smirk that casted on her face. She could already see it, when you awoke you would beg her to touch you.

She decided to save you the begging. She carefully got on top of you, her stomach on your back as you thrust your hips slightly faster now. She wondered what you were dreaming about, what kind of dirty position she had you in your nasty dream. She moved your hair from your neck before leaving soft kisses in the crook of your neck.

You jumped a bit but not enough to wake you, her kisses continued. She left small purple spots here and there, suckling and biting at the skin. It didn't take long for you to wake up, it only took a small hard bite from her to have you jerk awake. You blinked the sleep from your eyes, looking back at Ellie as she started kissing your cheeks.

"Good morning my love!" She said, kissing your cheek once more. "Having a good dream?"

Even if it was dark she could see the blush spread across your cheeks. You were still very much out of it, but you were able to move onto your back now facing ellie.

"A lovely dream actually! until you woke me up." You giggled, looking into her green eyes for a little too long.

"Hey! I thought maybe you would like the real thing, it's the least I can do since you pushed my child out." She smirked, moving her hand up to your cheek.

She leaned down and moved her lips to yours, wasting no time in foreplay but heading straight to her tongue down your throat. You both moved your mouths together like your mouths were meant for each other. Your hands met her short mullet-like hair, gripping it with a small amount of force just enough to cause her stomach to turn.

This causes her to put her thigh in between your legs, allowing you to grind on it. Usually you would moan at this action, you wanted it so badly but this time you winced at something that made Ellie immediately stop. She looked down at you with such worry, eyes bulging out like they would fall out of their sockets.

"Did I hurt you?!" She almost yelled, Panic quivering in her voice. You just giggled softly, reaching up to leave a peck on her lips.

"No love, I'm still sore so you're gonna have to be soft with me." You tried to reassure her but it didn't make her feel any better.

Ellie didn't understand, she did but she didn't. She read all the pregnancy books but none of them showed the after birth effects. She knew you would hurt for a bit but she didn't know how long or what it felt like or even if she could pleasure you with it being safe.

"Ellie honey, you wont hurt me. I know my limits so if you hurt me or I feel like something is wrong I will tell you." You reassured her once again. It made her feel a bit better, you always knew what to say to her.

"We don't have to do this, I just thought I'd make you feel good, you know? It's the least I can do." She stated.

"I want this more than anything but I want you to want it as much as I do. You don't owe me anything." You replied.

Ellie smiled down at you, this pregnancy had you both feeling weird ways you never thought you would. It was a change for sure but you both were still in love with each other and that's all that matters, only this time you had a baby to love as well. It's funny how even through a apocalypse humans still feel their dumb feelings.

"You know what would make my boo boo feel better?" You spoke, a smirk plastered on your face. "If you kissed it..."

She couldn't help the laugh that erupted in her thought, she shook her head softly before touching your lips once again. You guys went into the same position you were already in before the conflict arose. Her thigh made her way to your core but this time so softly you could barely feel it there at first.

Your hands gripped her hair once more, pulling her so close to you yall were basically conjoined together. You grinded slightly on her thigh, moving your hips back and forth. It was pure bliss in this moment, almost a little heaven in your small farm house. That is until it wasn't...

You were the first to hear it, the cries erupting from down the hall. Ellie was too busy trying to eat your face off to hear it until she noticed you stop your movements, rolling your eyes softly. She then heard it too, sighing softly. She dropped her head on your neck, not wanting to get up and get the child but knowing she had too.

"She's probably hungry." You spoke, moving your head to kiss ellies head softly.

Ellie groaned dramatically, making you laugh. This was a nightly thing, the baby waking up at around 2 or 3 am screaming her head off until Ellie got up to rock her back to sleep or you fed her.

"Can we just leave her there? She can fend for herself right?" Ellie said, lifting her head to look up at you. "Gotta teach them young right?"

You chuckled once more, pecking her nose with your lips. You pushed yourself up causing Ellie to move off of you. Ellies body went limp, she would give anything just to lay on top of you for the rest of the night.

"Go get the baby and I'll feed her." You said, squeezing your breast lightly. " My boobs feel like they're gonna burst, oh my god."

Ellie perked her head up to look at you, giving you a look. You looked back at her smiling, rolling your eyes.

"No ellie you can not suck on my boobs, go get your child please." You chuckled out, surprisingly that was a conversation y'all had at one point.

Ellie pouted but got up anyway, making her way towards the door of your shared bedroom. Ellie's hand was on the doorknob when she decided she wanted one last kiss. She ran over to you and pecked your lips, looking into your eyes once more.

"To be continued..." She smirked before walking back to the door.

You shook your head softly, even throughout everything y'all had gone through ellie never stopped being herself. You hoped your kid would grow up like that, always full of life even if everyone or even everything around her was dead. You knew as soon as you met Ellie you wanted a kid with her, you wanted your kids to be just like her.

You got yourself situated in your bed, lighting the lamp up so you could see your baby. Ellie reappeared in the doorway, only this time a small child in her hands. She was so soft with the child, rocking her in her arms slightly as she made her way over to you. Even if Ellie made jokes about the child looking like an old man or being dramatic about having to wake up in the middle of the night for the baby as a joke she did love her.

She looked at the baby with such love in her eyes, like the baby was her savior. She walked her way over to you, placing the baby in your arms. You smiled down at the baby, pulling down your shirt to allow your boob to pop out. The baby immediately went for it, she was very hungry.

Ellie made her way over to the other side of the bed, laying down next to you. Her eyes never left you and the baby, it was such a pure moment in her eyes. Ellie watched in amazement, she could never get over how your body can actually produce the nutrients for your baby. Physically she could but mentally she couldn't, she left all that stuff to you.

"Can you sing a song for us?" You asked, look back at her.

"It's late...the baby is trying to sleep." She replied, she ran a hand through her hair.

"Oh but the baby wants you too... it'll help her sleep better." You said, with puppy dog eyes.

You loved when Ellie sang to you and tonight would be the perfect night too. As the moon contrasted her features, the wind softly running through the room and just the three of you together... hell this could be the very last time you get a moment like this.

"Yeah come on mommy! play a little tune for us.." You said in a high pitched voice, mimicking your child.

Ellie laughed softly, sitting up completely. She placed a kiss on your forehead, reaching over for her guitar.

"Well since you asked for it." She sat on the edge of the bed, guitar balanced on her leg

She strummed out a tune, her fingers dancing out on the strings. It was soft and quiet but enough that it traveled throughout the room. You watched in amusement, watching as her hair fell on her forehead.

"Did I drive you away?

i know what you'll say

you sing " oh sing one we know.""

Ellie's song, voice raspy but still beautiful.

You kept your eyes on her, watching her so intently. You felt the same thing you felt when you first met her. 4 years ago you met her at the church dance, she watched you swing your hips around. You saw her too, you even put a little show on for her that night. You swung your hips back and forth just to see her reaction.

You were drunk that night, so you were bold. If you weren't drunk you would never have gone up to Ellie or did as you did. That night you danced over to her, made a shitty pick up line that completely failed but had Ellie blushing up a storm. She walked you home that night, before she would leave you insisted she stayed because you didn't want to be alone that night.

She stayed that night and then for the rest of our days together. She didn't know that one night would turn into a marriage and then a life together.

"Yeah i saw sparks

Sing it out..."

Ellies singing pulled you back into reality, her song was over.

You looked down at the baby that had now been passed out, her little hand gripped onto your chest. You smiled, carefully getting up and making your way to her room. You pulled the baby away from you, pulling your shirt back up before placing her into her crib. She moved a bit but she was knocked out completely, it was evident she was so full of milk she couldn't even hold her eyes open.

You looked down at her, watching her chest heave up and down. You felt a hand on your waist. Ellie had come up behind you, holding on to your waist as you stared at your sleeping child. You never would've thought you would be here, both of you alive and well with a child. You thought you were lucky enough to live to your teen years. This was your heaven, you were finally okay with living now.

This is how it should be, you should just be able to live without worry. You could feel tears prickle at your eyes, not sad ones but happy tears. It was too dark for Ellie to see them but Ellie could sense it.

"You know we were rudely interrupted....'' Ellie said, breaking the silence.

Her lips kissed along your shoulders once again. Swaying you slightly as she looked up at you. You chuckled, wiping the tears from your eyes. You turned around in her arms, your arms wrapping around her neck and her hands on your waist.

"Hmmm let me think..." You said, teasing her. "My boo boo still is sore...."

She smirks at you, biting her lip waiting for your response. You looked around the room with a look as if you were thinking.

"Mommy says...." You teased her further. "Mommy says yes only if you agree to kiss it better."

"Oh I'll do more than kiss it my love..."

[earthtoplum]

hellraiser. // eddie muson. (2)

pairing: eddie munson x female!reader

summary: Between school, band practices, D&D nights and shitty parents, you and Eddie have created the perfect little secret life together. The town of Hawkins despises him, but not you. You're head over heels for the son of a bitch. About to graduate, the two of you are ready to run out of Indiana the moment those caps go in the air, but the inevitable Hawkins Curse creeps its way back into town, and takes hold of what you once thought was untouchable.

word count: 5.5k

warnings: mentions of sex, smoking, nothing else really

a/n: hi, thanks for being here! :) I keep writing this at the speed of light. Posting for myself, really. Follows the storyline of Season 4! Beware of spoilers in case you haven't watched the masterpiece.

*gif not mine, creds to whoever owns*

visit me on wattpad!

two. let the games begin

Waking up the next morning to your alarm blaring in your ear, you slap it to turn it off without even lifting your head off the pillow. The sun was peeking into your room from behind the pink frilly curtains you partially shut, and a cool breeze drifted in from the window you had crawled into last night. You tumbled onto your light blue carpet a little after three o’clock. Eddie seemed pretty into the idea of not getting any sleep before the last day of school before spring break, you had to physically stop him from starting round number three.

Sitting up and letting your hair fall around your face, you take a long deep breath that stings in your lungs for only a split second and then cough a couple times. You’d only smoke with Eddie a couple times, it was never a regular thing for you unlike him. Leaving a stressful class, you’d drag Eddie out to the parking lot for a cigarette. After sex, you’d smoke one with him on the porch of the trailer. Fighting with your mom, you’d sneak off to Eddie’s for a loosey, even if it was just Uncle Wayne at home. The little sting in your lungs came from not doing it everyday.

Kicking your legs out from under your chunky comforter made by, you think, your great grandmother on your dad's side of the family, you start for your door, but pause in the mirror above your dresser. Pushing your hair away from your neck, you groan.

“Damnit, Eddie,” You mutter, dragging your fingers over the purplish-blue marks he had left behind last night, “One, two, three- Jesus.” 

“You up?” Tina’s voice rang from the other side of your door that her knuckles tapped on a couple of times. Jumping out of your skin, you suck in a deep breath and pull all of your hair forward, turning around to sift through your clothes for something to wear.

“Y-Yup!” You answer her in the most nonchalant tone you could conjure up. 

“Good,” Your mother sighs, then opens your door, looking at the back of you, “I’m taking the boys to school early, they have projects they’re working on with Mr. Clark.”

“Oh, okay,” You sing-song, continuing your search for an outfit like you didn’t already know what you were wearing, you just weren’t trying to look her in the face at the moment.

“I’ll be heading to work straight after, so, have a good day today,” She says.

“Thanks, you too,” You answer, but she doesn’t leave. Instead she walks inside, stepping over the threshold that typically protects you from her, so it pains your soul to hear her coming closer to you. Freezing in place with a t-shirt from Eddie in your hands, you use your sixth sense to figure out what was going on. The ‘I have a helicopter mom’ sense. She was about to unload a moment of wisdom, or drop a bomb on you. Either way, you didn’t want it. Sighing again, Tina’s eyes scan over the pictures you have hung up, and she opens her mouth to your dismay.

“Dinner was nice last night,” She begins vague as hell, “It was nice to see Eddie again, I feel like you two don’t come around here anymore.” 

“Uh, yeah,” Was all you say, “Mom, I have to change…”

“Right, right,” She continues to putter about your room, walking past you toward your open window that she peers out of into the backyard, “I’ll go, I have to make sure Jeffery and Marshall aren’t taking hair samples from one another again,” Then she does the very thing you were begging her not to do, she turns to look at you. 

White knuckling the black t-shirt out of fear, you were praying your hair was covering the bruises you wore like medals that were won. Even if they were hidden, so much more could give you away. You never came face to face with her after a night at Eddie’s, ever, unless you were showered and awake for longer than seven minutes. Your hair that was a looser version of the perm your mother wore was tousled in a way that would be distinguishable to any eighteen year old in Hawkins, giving away what you were doing for two hours last night, and if any makeup was left on your face it was certainly smudged. Your lips were puffy from being nibbled on, and your knees would give out if anyone simply tapped the back of them.

“Sweetie, did you get any sleep?” Tina takes a step toward you. Nodding your head a bit to strategically keep your hair in place, your mother frowns. “Oh, well I hope you aren’t coming down with anything, not with spring break here. You sure you feel okay? You look like you’ve been tumbled over by something.” Now you suppressed a smile, because little did Tina know, you had in fact been tumbled over by something, the boy it was ‘nice to see’ last night.

“I feel fine, just rough nights sleep I guess,” You shrug and look down at the t-shirt you held. Painting a smile that seemed painful onto her face, your mother bobs her head and heads toward the door.

“Get to school safe, dear, are you walking?” She asks before leaving your room, resting a manicured hand on the doorframe as she glances back at you.

“Uh, no,” You say, keeping your back to her, “Think Eddie’s gonna pick me up…” A moment of silence hangs around after you leave the end of your sentence open ended. You hear her click her fingernails on the wood one by one.

“Okay,” She cringes, you could hear it in her shrill tone, “Be safe.”

“We always are,” You giggle to yourself after she shuts your door on her way out. 

Changing into Eddie’s black t-shirt and a pair of ripped jeans, you rake your fingers through your hair and plant yourself back in front of your mirror. Makeup didn’t excite you the way it did other girls, so you always settled for the minimum. Plus putting it on took way too long anyway, like how you tried to cover the hickeys on your neck the best that you could without it looking too insane. Eddie was in for it.

Downstairs you heard your mother and the boys leave, giving you an opportunity to dash to the bathroom without consequences till you were out of the house. Neil left for work around six in the morning, you rarely saw him on school days until he came home, where you strived to avoid him anyway.

After brushing your teeth and making sure you were presentable in the slightest, you come back to your room to slip your shoes on and hear a car door slam shut outside, then the happiest voice shouts right after.

“Let’s gooo!” Eddie cheers from the front of the house, “We’re riding again!” His suspension was up, and so was his mood- something to always look forward to. Eddie on his good days was a blast, and though somewhat manic, it was an incredible high for you both. Snatching your bag from the corner by the door, you toss it over your shoulder, shut your door and hurry down the stairs.

Outside, Eddie was leaning against the passenger door of his van smoking a cigarette- something he wouldn’t do if he knew your parents were home. At the first sight of you he smiles, and as you come closer he steps away from the door to open it for you, taking a bow as he gestures to the seat. Stopping in front of him, you pull the cigarette from between his lips and place it in yours, Eddie’s jaw falling agape in shock.

“I have a bone to pick with you,” You grill, taking a drag, blowing the smoke from your pursed lips as you jump up onto the comfiest leather cushions. Shutting the door for you, Eddie leans into the open window on his elbows and gives you a small smile.

“Good morning to you too, Princess,” He says, disgustingly sweet, knowing it would get you to smile. Feeling your cheeks turn pink, you roll your eyes and sigh to try to hide your giggle, but Eddie could see straight through it. Tapping the door once, he bits his lip and grins, hurrying around the van to jump into his seat.

“She comes into my room, and I’m trying to get dressed, shitting myself because if I look at her she’ll see what you did!” Your hands were moving a mile a minute as you told Eddie the story of this morning with your mother. Eddie’s eyes were on you more than they were on the road. His seat was reclined back a bit, more than a driver's seat should be, and he had one hand on the steering wheel with the other out the open window holding the cigarette you immediately gave back to him.

“I dare you to keep acting like you hate it,” He says, placing the filter between his teeth as he narrows his eyes. Turning to face him, you cross your arms over your chest. 

“I don’t hate it… I just… can’t stand-”

“I’ve got scratches on my back that would love to beg to differ,” He whips his head to shoot you a glare, “And I believe number three right there was how I got number four out of you last night,” He comes up to a stop sign and reaches a hand over to move your hair away from your neck, paralyzing you with his words, “I expected to be showered in gratitude this morning, instead it seems I need to find new ways to show you love.” He continues to drive, finishing his cigarette with a long pull, and flicks it out the window, resting his elbow on the door. Feeling you looking at him, he glances at you and is met with an inquisitive gaze.

“New ways? What ways?” You ask quietly, and for a second he’s pulling a face before the two of you burst into laughter.

“That’s what you have to say to that?!” Eddie shouts, falling forward on the steering wheel he now gripped with both hands. Covering your mouth with your hands, you rock back and forth a couple times, then take a deep breath to calm down.

“Sorry,” You sigh, “I’m not… pissed off, about this I mean,” You brush your hand over your neck, “I hate keeping you a secret.” You meet eyes, and his have gone soft.

“Me?” He asks, and you nod, “You want to… tell them?” 

“Why not?” You say, leaning over to his seat, putting a hand on his shoulder, “Eddie, we’ve been together since we were sophomores. My mom dreams of me coming home with a boy, she still asks me when that day’s gonna come.” Eddie side-eyes you, keeping most of his focus forward. Happy day, you thought, you’re having a good day, let this be the day.

“Since when have you wanted to please your mom?” He asks, lowering his eyebrows in suspicion.

“Since…” You sigh, then groan before continuing, “It has nothing to do with my mom, okay. Don’t you think it’d be a real kick in the pants if after we graduate and move out, and suddenly we’re together… It’s fishy.”

“Fishy?” He now raises an eyebrow.

“Fishy, exactly,” You nod, dragging the back of a finger down the side of his cheek, “My mom hid a lot of things from her mom, and it caused so many future problems. I only see my grandmother every other Christmas because they can’t stand each other.”

“It’s funny how it’s almost like you’re gonna end up just like them,” Eddie says without a thought, and you frown. That was what you didn’t want to happen.

“She sucks, I know, I don’t want to ruin my relationship with her like she did with her own mother because she didn’t tell her she was pregnant with me before she was married,” The words fall out of your mouth before you can register what you’re telling him. Shooting you a double take with wide eyes, Eddie babbles mindlessly before you can give him an explanation.

“Preg- what? I- Huh? Hold on…”

“Eddie,” You grab his chin and turn his head to look at the road, “Calm down, not happening, I’d like to get to school alive.” 

“But you said she ruined the relationship becau-”

“I’m not pregnant!” You state harshly, then laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek to relax him further, “I’m not my mom! God, that’s why they hate each other, she trapped him.” Eddie pulls into the parking lot of Hawkins High, weaving through the parking lot cautiously to some people's surprise. Kids hurried out of the way when they spotted the van, knowing who was inside.

“I don’t think I’d feel trapped,” Eddie responds to you after pulling into a parking spot. Taking your hand off of his chin, you press your lips together firmly as he looks at you without a care. Just the mere thought of what you were talking about happening made you queasy. 

“Shut up,” You say flatly, getting out of the van to ignore his smile.

Hawkins High was bustling this morning, everyone buzzing about the upcoming break. Both students and teachers were in high spirits as you and Eddie walked hand in hand through the parking lot to the entrance of the school. Eyes followed you two as you hurried along, but neither of you cared. Since you started high school you’ve been coined as ‘those kids’, and it stuck with you to this very day.

Eddie was always proud of it, he wore it like a badge of honor, using it to create the Hellfire Club that would be meeting tonight. Dungeons and Dragons didn’t interest you enough to play, but you adored listening in and watching matches, seeing how pumped the guys got over a singular roll of the dice. Your guy led the club, it was like his own personal cult of weirdos, and nothing, except you, made him happier.

Passing by a group of the basketball team, Eddie meets eyes with the captain, Jason, and he shoots him a wink, triggering the jock to lunge forward and his buddies to hold him back.

“He wants it,” Eddie says for only you to hear and you chuckle, shaking your head.

“Look at you, I’d go feral too,” You push our body into his to make him stumble a bit and he smiles, tossing an arm around your shoulder to lead you through the doors of hell itself.

Latched to his side, you listened intently as Eddie talked about how his campaign was going to go tonight, and how he looked forward to watching the new freshman in the club fight to the death to try to win. Knowing you liked to grab your books before homeroom began, Eddie turns the corner in the hall, nearly taking out a sophomore as he stops in front of your locker.

“And I know he’s young, but Henderson… I swear, he’s a tiny genius.” 

“Dustin, right?” You ask, “Short, curly hair, always wears a hat?” Eddie nods.

“The other two are Lucas, he’s pretty tall, and, uh, you know Mike,” He tries to not show any infliction in his tone, but it shows through. Closing your locker, you give him a small smile.

“I know Mike,” You say without any change to your exterior. Wrapping an arm around his neck, you step closer to him, pressing your chest to his. “Might be late to lunch, don’t wait for me, I have a Click situation.” You and Eddie roll your eyes at the same time.

“Okay,” He says quietly between you, eyes flickering down to your lips, “Have a good day.”

“You too,” You smile, then stand on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips, “Love you,” You say, and turn to saunter down the hall with him watching.

“Love you, Princess,” He says before you're out of earshot, and he grins as you spin around in your sneakers to blow him a kiss.

The bell for lunch rings and a sigh of relief can be heard around the halls, though an hour for lunch after just sitting through almost four hours of classes was incredibly unfair. Slipping your notebook into your bag, you step into the hall and start going against the flow, heading toward Miss Click’s classroom where you endured the longest half hour that you’ve ever heard any person talk. She reminded you that it was a warning, you needed to get your act together if you wanted to graduate with at least a C in her class.

“You’ll match all the others,” You shrug where you sat slumped back at a desk across from hers. Pushing her glasses up on her nose, she clears her throat and straightens a pencil on her desk, then folds her hands together.

“I’ve looked at your record, I do with most of my students,” She says as if that was supposed to reassure you that what she had done was reasonable, “You used to do well in your classes. You ended freshman year with two A’s and three B’s, then junior year things really took a turn, huh?” She scrunched her nose as she spoke, “I know you’re seeing Eddie Munson, is that correct?” Glancing up at her from your lap, she was waiting attentively for an answer. You didn’t think this meeting was going to be open ended, you expected to get lectured and leave.

“Uh, yeah, I am,” You answer without much enthusiasm, sitting up a bit. Miss Click averts her eyes for a second and nods before pointing them back at you.

“When did the two of you start to date?” She bounces her shoulders once, and you couldn’t believe you were having this conversation with one of your teachers.

“We’ve been, uh, friends for a long time, since uh, middle school,” You swallow, hard, “But then we cut the bullshit our sophomore year and realized we liked each other.”  

“That’s a sweet story,” She smiles a small smile, her lips not moving past the tiny V they created beneath her nose.

“Guess it is,” You shrug.

“I had Eddie last year,” Oh, great. Here it comes. Miss Click leans forward on her desk, like she's sharing a secret, “He’s quite the character, isn’t he?” She laughs once, but stops when she doesn’t see you react. Instead, she clears her throat again and tries to regain control over the awkwardness she just created.

“What I mean to say is that I’m worried that your… relationship… could be affecting your school performance,” She says, back to her formal tone, “It seems like before you were together you did excellent work here.” You were unsure of what to say, not knowing if this part of the presentation was open ended as well.

“Something to keep in mind for the rest of this year, and over break, okay?” Click smiles, “I want to see you at a C before you walk across that stage. Now, go enjoy lunch.” 

As you leave her room you think about your parents and a conversation you’ve had about you grades recently. Like Miss Click, they weren’t impressed, and it was sad that all three of them were right. You used to perform in school like your brothers, passing with A’s, and the occasional B. Middle school was different from high school though, it was easier and the teachers were nicer. You and Eddie had Mr. Clark together, and he always put up with your shit, nearly encouraging you both to be who you were. High School honestly just got hard, and you kind of stopped caring. 

You suppose what Click said was right, and that getting together with Eddie did affect your record because he was known to influence the ‘stopped caring’ part of this predicament. It wasn’t just Eddie though, you could’ve very well told Miss Click that the nights you lay awake listening to your parents argue are leaving you exhausted as you fight your way to the end of this semester, but you kept that trauma to yourself. There were plenty of pity parades around Hawkins, you didn’t need to become another one.

As you came into the cafeteria you were greeted by the sight of your boyfriend standing on the table your friends were at. He looked like he was tormenting the jocks, Jason was standing up at his table shouting something at him, to which Eddie responded by shooting him a crazed look with devil horns, and laughed as Jason clamored to sit down. Hard to imagine if you’d never met Eddie you could be sitting at their table with the cheerleaders.

“God, Eddie,” You groan as he jumps off the table and continues to talk with his friends who were watching him with pure admiration, especially Mike. The kid looked like he was even growing his hair out like Eddie’s, the rapport was just too sweet.

Taking the long way around the room so he could finish his discussion, it looked important, you watch as he grabs Mike and Dustin by the collars of their shirts and shoves them away with a brotherly force. He drops down into his chair with the others as his freshman hurry away.  Approaching with caution, you stand behind Eddie and slip your hands around his front, crossing them over his chest. You smile at Gareth who gives you a small wave. The other two were only able to barely smile. It made you giggle sometimes how flustered they would all get around you. Eddie grabs onto your hands with his, taking a slow deep breath. His heart was racing.

“You okay? Looked pretty fired up,” You ask, and Jeff rolls his eyes from next to you. Pulling your arms away, Eddie spins in his seat and grabs onto your cheeks with a panicked look in his eye.

“Do you love me enough to join Hellfire tonight,” He says quietly, and way too fast. Laughing for a second, you look around at the others who looked back with queasy faces.

“Me?” You laugh again, then lower your voice for only Eddie, “Baby, I can’t play… I- I don’t know how.”

“You’ll learn, I’ll teach you,” He says, eyes locked on you. He was serious.

“Eddie,” You sigh, “I don’t… fit, it wouldn’t be right.” Releasing a heavy breath, he drops his hands from your face and falls back in defeat.

“Can somebody not come? I saw you push Wheeler and Dustin, what’d they do?” You ask.

“Sinclair,” Eddie lifts a hand and drops it on his thigh like deadweight, his eyes focusing on the floor, “Kid plays basketball, and apparently! Lucky me! Tonight’s the championship game.”

“It is? Since when?” Your wrinkle your brow.

“They announced it this morning,” Gareth chimes in, “At that pep rally thing, or something.”

“There was a pep rally?” Another question no one really had an answer to. Eddie simply shrugs.

“I sent the dickwads off to find a sub,” He says with a shake of his head, “And I don’t think they’re going to find one.” Your heart sank as the disappointment washed over him, frustrations visible on his face. The campaign he’s been waiting ages to complete and was finally going to happen tonight, it was being pulled away.

“Fine,” You say on impulse, and Eddie’s eyes meet yours with a glimmer of hope, “If dickwads can’t find a sub… I’ll play.” Jumping to his feet while your friends cheered behind him, Eddie wraps an arm around your body and dips you a bit, kissing you like he would behind closed doors and not in the middle of your high school. Standing upright, you and Eddie laugh together when he pulls away, and you use this moment to take him in. The beautiful boy you were crazy about, who shook up your life in the craziest, yet best way possible. You couldn’t imagine living without him, and giving him up seemed near impossible. He was confident, and strong as hell after life put him through the ringer again and again… and he taught you how to be unapologetically you.

“Why you lookin’ at me like that?” Eddie asks, pressing his forehead to yours. Coming back to reality, you take a deep breath and shrug, like he would.

“You’re sexy, that’s why,” You whisper, and for a second he almost believes you.

“Uh huh,” He mutters, squinting at you to get you to laugh, “You’re pondering, I don’t like it when you ponder, you think too much.”

“Do not,” You gasp, taking a step away from him. Gareth hops over a seat at the table so you could sit down next to Eddie.

“What does pondering do?” Eddie asks you, sliding his tray of what the school thought was edible toward you so you could get something to eat before the second half of the day began.

“Pondering leads to over-thinking,” Your tone is monotonous as you recite the line to him. This had been practiced too many times, probably since seventh grade.

“And what does overthinking do?” Eddie speaks theatrically with his fingers, glancing at you, anticipating the answer. Expressing your annoyance in an exasperated sigh, you roll your eyes.

“Over-thinking causes anxiety,” You say, “And anxiety can cause panic, and nobody likes panic, so the best we can do is to stop our ponder before it wanders.” Eddie looks over at you, sarcastically proud as you finish the statement on your own.

“That’s right,” He whispers and winks, “Though I wish I got to say ‘ponder before it wanders’. My favorite part. How was Click?” The conversation switches fast, to something you didn’t feel like discussing because of the wandering pondering thing.

“Good,” You lie, forcing a smile.

“Oo! You are oh-for-two today, darling,” Eddie grills, using his hands on the table to scoot his chair closer to yours, “What’s with the lies?” He props his chin on his fist, and his elbow on the back of your chair. Thankfully your friends had fallen into a discussion of their own, ignoring the two of you.

Focusing your eyes on his other hand that remained planted on the table, you reached for it and started to toy with the chunky silver rings he wore.

“Talk to me,” He says quietly, “You’re really pregnant aren’t you?”

“No! Eddie!” You almost shout, giggling as you look at him. He smiles with you, moving the hand beneath his chin to mess with your hair, twirling the curls around his finger softly.

“Did I do something?” He asks, and you shake your head, “Did… somebody else? Do something? To you?” You shake your head again, “Give me something, Princess, I’m having a conversation with myself here.” 

“It’s just…” You begin cautiously, wondering how you should word the following, “Click’s the third person this week to tell me that you’re…” You hesitate, and he bobs his head knowingly, licking his lips as he averts his eyes to look around the cafeteria.

“No good?” He looks back at you, smiling sadistically, “A bad guy? Satan worshiper? Love that one… Met the guy a couple times, he’s not half bad,” You couldn’t bring yourself to give him an answer after he’d just figured it out himself, “It’s funny how you hear this after I finish reading this,” He takes his hand from yours and picks up a magazine that had been sitting on the table since you arrived. It was open to a story about the effects on kids of playing Dungeons and Dragons, and sure enough, words Hawkins used to describe Eddie were written.

“Jeff got this from his dad this morning,” Eddie pointed at him from across the table, “He was told to read it and reflect on his decisions in life.” Looking at Jeff, you give him a sympathetic smile. It was unfair the way life treated these guys.

“Did Click tell you to reflect… on your decisions in life? On your decisions with me?” His tone was low again, for you. Looking back to his big, dark eyes, you pout your bottom lip. All of you were forced to hear these things about yourselves from everyone else, it felt wrong and hurt like hell to discuss them amongst each other. Clicking his tongue, Eddie puts his hand on the back of your head and pulls you toward him, holding you close.

“S’okay,” He soothes, giving your head a gentle scratch, “I know what people think I am. We all know what people think we are, but we know who we are. You know who I am. Okay?” Nodding on his shoulder you lift your head to give him a kiss, then another that surged an electricity through your veins. Pressing your cheek to his, away from the others you whisper in his ear.

“Bathroom by O’Donnells after school?” You start to smile, reaching under the table to grab his thigh. He didn’t immediately respond, which was rare. Actually it wasn’t rare, it never ever happened. Eddie never passed an opportunity to get in your pants. Turning to look at him, he wore a pained expression. “What, you got a date?” You tease.

“Yeah,” He releases a breath before kissing you again.

“What?” You giggle, placing a hand to his chest to push him back. He grabs onto it, squeezing it with vigor.

“Listen, keep this to yourself,” He whispers, “But, Chrissy Cunningham wants to buy… y’know, so I’m meeting her in the woods behind the school before Hellfire.” Your lips were parted slightly in shock. He was telling the truth.

“Chrissy… Cunningham? The cheerleader,” You say, and he nods, “The cheerleader dating… Jason.” Eddie mouths the words mockingly with you and then laughs.

“Yeah, yes,” He’s whispering again, “She looks like she’s goin’ through something, I just wanna… help.” Lifting a brow in suspicion, Eddie just looks back at you with empathy. He’s never given you a reason to not trust him, and he hasn’t spoken to Chrissy since, like, middle school.

“Okay,” You say quietly, “I’ll see you at Hellfire, then,” Leaning in close to his ear again, you send him for a tizzy, “Guess I can take care of myself till then.” 

“Anything stronger? Eddie,” Your voice was hushed, but the panicked rush was evident as you and Eddie hurried down the halls to get to Hellfire.  You waited in the van while he met with Chrissy, that was one path you didn’t feel like crossing today.

“It was going fine, she’s actually nice- y’know you two would probably get along outside of school,” He smirks, shooting you a look that you gave right back to him. A little taste of your own Jonathan Byers suggestion medicine coming to get you. Lifting a fist, you lightly tapped his shoulder and shook your head.

“So, what then? You take her to Wayne’s, show her your room,” You both turn a corner that takes you to the hallway with the gym, where everyone and their mother was shoulder to shoulder to get inside for the game. Coming to a stop, you and Eddie look at each other, telepathically making the decision to go the other way. Before turning around, you catch a glimpse of Nancy Wheeler dressed like you assumed she’d be, leading two boys with notepads and cameras, following her like her little ducks. Her nose was in the air as she scoped the scene, then she flipped a few pages in her book and scribbled something down. She looked pretty, and kind of like she had her life together.

Glancing down at you, Eddie peeks at Nancy, then back to your eyes, “Come on,” He says, taking your hand to lead you the other way. No one knows the guilt you feel about Nancy like him, the guilt that came after Barb passed. You truly wished that you had reconnected with Nancy during that time, but neither of you said a single word. It felt too damaged to try to fix, too much time had gone by in the uncomfortable silent standoff. What you didn’t notice was Nancy looking your way as Eddie turned you down the hall, she’d spotted you before you even knew she was there.

“Good?” Eddie asks, grasping your hand. Nodding sheepishly, you lie for the third today, and Eddie lets this one slide. You talked about Nancy only when you wanted to talk about Nancy.

The room was empty when you stepped inside, just you and Eddie for another few minutes before anyone was going to show up. Shutting the door with his foot, he places his hands on your hips and walks you forward to the table pressing you against it.

“Eddie!” You gasp, giggling as his hands slid under his t-shirt you wore and up your sides.

“Come over after Chrissy leaves, yeah?” He says, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “I’d say come with me after, but I don’t wanna scare her off. She’s like… really strung out about something.” He kissed your cheek again, then trailed his lips down the side of your neck. Fluttering your eyes shut, your breath hitches in your throat, all worries of what might happen with Chrissy, and thoughts of Nancy Wheeler disappearing.

“Okay, okay,” You whisper, pushing your ass backward into his hips to signal him to chill. The guys could walk in the room at any moment.

Eddie chuckles, then licks a stripe up the side of your neck to behind your ear, he nibbles your earlobe for half of a second, and backs away. 

“Eddie! Eddie!” Jeff and Gareth come barging through the door as if on cue, “The freshman have a sub.” Eddie turns to them slowly, lowering his chin in sinister delight. Holding his hands out to the side, he laughs.

“Then, let the games begin.”

[undercoveravenger]

Clairvoyance

Written for my 2021 Halloween event.

Pairing: Percy Jackson x Warlock!Male!Reader

Prompt: Percy + “Make yourself useful and pass me those eyeballs before this potion is completely ruined.”

A/N: Fun fact- my dog’s name is also Percy, so it was kind of odd to write this one. Also, this is the third piece for my Halloween event. The next piece will be released Saturday, October 9th.

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In all of the years that Percy Jackson had spent going on quests, he had seen a lot of weird things and been to a lot of spooky places. But this? This was a whole new level of creepy.

He, Jason, and Hazel had been sent on a quest to find a legendary weapon that Chiron had called the Sword of Arthur, which was apparently a legendary blade which rendered its wielder effectively undefeatable, as long as it deemed them worthy of taking it from its resting place. The only problem was that no one knew exactly where that was.

Well, he supposed, not quite no one. Hazel had remembered an acquaintance from her time living in New Orleans that she thought might be able to help them. That was what brought them to a sprawling manor beyond a towering wrought iron gate. Once white walls had grayed with time, and ivy climbed nearly every surface, making the frame appear cracked and crumbling. It appeared that one of the windows overlooking the front yard had been broken in and Percy had been able to make out the faintest flickering light through it, like a dying candle was the only source of light in the eerie house.

There had been no answer when they knocked, so they made their way into the house. Percy had honestly expected the place to be abandoned since the outside of the house had looked so decrepit, but the interior seemed almost inviting with curtains in rich colors and comfortable looking furniture.

Hazel led the boys quietly through the house to a room that overlooked the backyard. Percy could make out the sound of something bubbling and the crackling of a fire, though he couldn’t quite tell if there was anyone in the room or not.

Suddenly the door swung open, as though pushed by some unseen wind. “Are you coming in or not?” a voice called out to them, echoing slightly in the otherwise quiet house.

Percy felt an odd sort of hesitance, but eventually trailed into the room behind his friends. The first thing he noticed was the fire roiling under the massive black cauldron in the center of the room, and the second was the ethereal young man standing behind it.

He had never really been interested in anyone apart from Annabeth before, but ever since they’d broken up a few months prior Percy noticed that he wasn’t really attracted to anyone. But now, for the first time since the breakup, he had found himself captivated by someone.

He wasn’t sure what it was that had caught his attention so entirely. Whether it was the way his hair seemed to drift on an invisible breeze or the brilliant gold that his eyes were glowing or that he didn’t even falter at their entrance as he stirred the potion in his cauldron, he found himself enthralled.

“Hazel,” the stranger greeted, lips turning up in a smile without so much as glancing at the intruders. “If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought that we wouldn’t have met again. It’s been, what, seventy years?”

She laughed, moving to stand beside the (h/c) and peering into the bubbling brew. “Something like that, yeah,” she agreed. “I’m afraid that this-”

“Isn’t a social call?” he finished for her, raising an eyebrow pointedly. “I knew that before you even knew you were to come see me.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” Percy hadn’t even realized that he’d spoken until the (h/c) turned to look at him. “I just- how did you know we’d be here?”

“You must be Percy Jackson,” the (h/c) said. “I assume Hazel hasn’t told you much about my powers, has she?” At Percy’s silence, he pressed on, “I was born with the ability to see beyond the mortal plain. I see glimpses of futures that may come and that will, much like the Oracle at your camp. I knew that the three of you would come asking about the sword; that’s why I’m brewing this after all,” he nodded toward the swirling concoction in the cauldron, the color shifting and blending as it bubbled. “Make yourself useful and pass me those eyeballs before this potion is completely ruined.”

Percy blinked, visibly confused by the onslaught of information. “What- what is that?” He reluctantly retrieved a jar of eyeballs from a nearby shelf and held it out.

“Drinking this will grant each of you a vision similar to those that I experience the next time you sleep.” The magician twisted open the lid of the jar and plucked out several eyeballs, dropping them absently into the concoction. They dissipated into the liquid almost as soon as it touched the surface. “If you focus on the weapon you’re tracking, it should be a vision related to it; one of the three will likely reveal the location.” After a moment, the (h/c) seemed satisfied and retrieved a large ladle, scooping some of the liquid into each of three glasses before holding them out to the party.

Percy was hesitant to drink it after learning about some of the ingredients, but the confident glint in the warlock’s eyes as the gold faded away to reveal the beautiful (e/c) beneath reassured him. “You’re sure this will work?” At the (h/c)’s nod, Percy steeled his nerves and drank.

He winced at the taste, but he noticed both Hazel and Jason drinking from their own cups.

“I’ll show each of you to your rooms so you can rest,” the warlock said. “You can set out for the blade in the morning.” He turned as though to lead the trio back into the main hall, but hesitated for a moment, “And Percy?”

Percy perked up at the sound of his name, eyes quickly finding their way back to him. “Yes?”

“Feel free to come visit once you make it back from your quest.” His lips twitched up in a knowing smirk, “I have the feeling that we’ll have a lot to discuss.”

Percy didn’t need to be clairvoyant to know that he was right.