#i would maul him to death with my teeth

[magicmagica]

Gonna come out to the lab today as nonbinary. One of my coworkers is already pusing back with uwu they them is too hard for my wittle brain. He him then fucker godddd this is gonna be so uphill

[hanzajesthanza]

milva and cahir: i will BOLDLY die PROTECTING YOU!!! MY BROTHERS!!! MY BELOVED!!!

angoulême and regis: whoops uhhhhhh ok blood is everywhere now LOL ok that’s a lot of blood! oh no

[ellecdc]

Black!reader that is “I don’t smoke” (mitski) because if their parents ‘you need to be mean be mean to her me, she I can take it and put it inside of me’

hi babes, this was my take on Black!reader who was always hurting on behalf of everyone else. this fic is very angsty compared to my usual standards, so please keep that in mind before reading, and mind the warnings. of course, as typical on ellecdc we have a happy/hopeful ending

Remus Lupin x Black!sister reader after The Prank™ [4.7k words]

CW: The Prank™, Black family trauma, the Marauders aren't speaking to each other, depressive episodes and self-loathing, siblings get quasi-violent/threats of violence? but for a good cause?, Remus' typical self-loathing, discussion of forgiveness and hatred, breaking up [not pictured] and making up [pictured]

The worst part-

Though, even the thought caused Sirius to scoff humourlessly, because what could possibly be the worst part of this? What could possibly be any ‘more worse’ than the worst thing he’d ever done?

Still, Sirius supposed, wand to his head, the worst thing about all of this would be the fact that Sirius didn’t regret it. Not really.

If anything, he only felt stronger in his conviction that Snape deserved to be mauled violently to death.

Yet…

Yet he didn’t find he felt particularly good about it all; about the way Remus woke up with new, deep, angry scars across his face courtesy of The Wolf who finally had a chance at a meal only to have that stolen before he turned on himself, about the way he looked at Sirius with an expression of pure unadulterated betrayal and then fury when he realised what he had done, about the three well aimed hits he took from James, nor about the way he had to listen through the door as Remus ended your relationship with you, officially giving into all of his deep-seeded self-loathing and beliefs that no one could or should possibly accept him.

And all Sirius managed to do was prove that to be true; that Remus couldn’t trust anyone. And as a result, he robbed you of the only love you had access to save what little you received from Regulus and Sirius.

So perhaps Sirius regretted that, but without access to a Time Turner, there was nothing to be done. 

There was nothing to be done. 

James had told him that “until he made things right with Remus, he wanted nothing to do with him”, and while he didn’t blame James, Sirius knew he was officially on his own because there would be no ‘making things right’. There was nothing right, not with Sirius, at least. 

Everything about Sirius was wrong.

There was nothing to be done. 

He brought the cigarette back up to his lips, the sensitive skin at the corner of his mouth cracking painfully as he took a drag. He appreciated the sting as his teeth started to taste like iron; the pain was both a welcome reminder and a distraction of his inner turmoil as he kept his gaze on the grounds below him.

He couldn’t look at the common room; the red and gold that once felt like home had faded into shades of grey. He couldn’t look in a mirror; his permanently downturned lips and angry eyes found him looking more like his father than he did himself. He couldn’t look at his hands; they were blistered and cracked from his tryst in the forest where he emptied his lungs by screaming until he was choking on air and punching uselessly at a tree.

He couldn’t look at any of his friends, because they couldn’t even look at him; they hated him.

He was hated. 

Sirius began to wonder how many more classes he could miss before McGonagall followed through on her threats to write home when the portrait hole opened.

He couldn’t look, though. Because he was hated.

“Aren’t you meant to be in class?” He heard you call to him, listening to your measured steps as you made your way to his spot on a windowsill. 

“I could ask the same of you.” He gruffed; voice cracking from disuse, from chain smoking, and from the perpetual tightness he had felt since That Night. 

“What are you doing, Sirius?” You sighed; you were exhausted. Exhausted of him. 

He was exhausted too.

“I’m minding my business, Y/N.” He spat back, stubbing out his smoke before lighting another one with a snap of his fingers. “You should try it sometime.” 

With a wave of your hand, the smoke was gone.

“What the fuck?”

“Get up.” You ordered simply, and Sirius shook his head at you.

“Go back to the dungeons.”

“No.” 

“I’m not in the fucking mood, Y/N.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Great, neither am I.” 

“I don’t want you here.”

“And I don’t want to be here,” You agreed, voice rising at Sirius’ petulance, “but I’ve got a brother who decided to stop functioning a few weeks ago, so here I am.” 

“I’m perfectly fine.”

“You smell.”

“Yeah well, you’re ugly.” Sirius sneered, pulling out another cigarette only for you to vanish the entire pack. 

“When was the last time you showered?” You demanded, and Sirius refused to look at you.

“Hm? Or changed? Or ate? When’s the last time you brushed your teeth?”

Sirius kept his gaze pointed at the grounds outside. 

“Sirius. Your hair is greasy, you smell stale, you look gaunt, and…they’re going to write home.”

“Good.” Sirius spat quickly. “As they should.”

“Is that what you want, Sirius? You want more people to be mad at you? More people to punish you?”

He didn’t answer.

“You’re already doing that enough for the rest of us.” You sighed, attempting to grab him by the arm only for him to shove you away. 

“Get away from me, Y/N, I mean it.” 

“No, get up.”

“Fuck off.”

“Now.” You nearly growled, and Sirius turned to see you aiming your wand in his direction, surprising a sarcastic laugh from him.

“What? Gonna hex me? Or are you gonna skip right to the Unforgivables, hm? Maybe an imperio? Or are you going to try some negative reinforcement? A crucio for disobedience? Salope stupide, de plus en plus comme ma mère chérie chaque jour.” (translation: stupid bitch, more and more like mother dearest every day)

Sirius flinched as you quickly raised your hand, prepared for a blow that you never landed. 

He looked back to see you standing there, hand poised like it was ready to hit him as you stared at him defiantly; your cool, piercing eyes so much like his own, but the displeased pinch of your mouth was that of your mother. 

“Is that what you want, Sirius? Huh? You want to be walloped a few more times on the nose so that everyone knows what a bad dog you are? You want to be punished for your misdeeds? Maybe get a few more of these?” And you punctuated your question by roughly grabbing at his jaw, fingers pressing into the painful bruises still colouring his cheeks courtesy of James. “That’s why you haven’t bothered healing them, yeah? So that everyone who sees will know what a right bastard you are."

He smacked your hand away with one arm and shoved you away from him with the other. 

“Or,” you continued - rather unphased by Sirius’ aggression - grabbing his balled up fist and bringing it up to your own face, “is it me you want to hit, hm? You want everyone else to hurt just as badly as you are? The world has been just terrible to you Sirius, you were dealt an awful hand! You just want everyone to suffer for it; to pay for the wrongs done to you.”

“Stop it.” Sirius hissed, trying to yank his hand away from you to no avail. 

“Hit me then, Sirius. Hit me. You wanna give into that Black Darkness? Want to be just as bad as they are? Just as bad as they’ve painted you to be? Go ahead.” 

“Stop.” 

“Then get up.” 

“Y/N…” He warned.

“Get up, Sirius.” 

“I hate you.” He spat, and your jaw tightened but you rolled your eyes as if you found him to be quite tiresome.

“Yeah, well, I don’t like you very much right now either.” 

He stood then, giving you no time to get out of his way before he was towering over you. You never faltered, though. He let you grab him by the sleeve of his shirt, he let you drag him up the stairs towards his dormitory - somewhere he hadn’t been since That Night, opting instead to sleep on the couches, a time or two in the room of requirement, and one night in the Shrieking Shack as Padfoot - and he let you bodily shove him into the boys’ bathroom. 

“Get in the shower, Sirius.”

“Sunny, please.”

“I’m not asking.” You said firmly. “Get in the shower.”

“I can’t.” 

You swore under your breath as you dragged him over to the shower stall, said nothing as he went no bones and sunk to the floor, and simply turned the shower on, soaking you both.

“Y/N, stop.” 

“Sirius, if you’re not going to take care of yourself, I will. Those are your choices.” You said defiantly, staring down at him as your school uniform became more and more drenched and your hair started sticking to the side of your neck.

Sirius let out a sigh and rested his head against his knees, and you accepted his relenting as the acquiescence it was. 

You pointed the shower head at him and began lathering soap into his hair before doing much the same with the conditioner. 

Sirius let the soap burn his eyes; welcomed it, even. He did nothing to help you with your tasks, though you didn’t ask him to. He did, however, draw the line at you trying to disrobe him.

“These need to come off, Sirius.” You said, pulling at his uniform shirt like something disgusting you found in a gutter.

“And I will take them off once you’re no longer staring at me.” He growled, causing you to scoff a humourless laugh.

“Like hells I’m letting you out of my sight again.”

Sirius simply groaned. 

“How are you going to wash your body, Sirius? Please don’t tell me you’re going to make me do that too.”

Sirius ripped the bar of soap out of your hands and glared at you as he shoved it beneath his clothes, washing himself the best he could under his sopping wet uniform. 

Though he was more than likely still sudsy, you shut the water off and vanished what water you could from both of your beings; each of your heads and uniforms still dripping wet as you flung open the bathroom door and marched across the hall.

Sirius’ mouth ran dry when you knocked on their dormitory door; somewhere between you confronting him in the common room and forcing him to bathe, classes seemed to have ended. 

He should’ve flung himself out of the common room window when he had the chance; he couldn’t see Remus, James, or Peter. They hated him.

He was hated.

Remus wouldn’t talk to any of them, and James and Peter weren’t talking to Sirius. Even though Remus had told them he didn’t want them “taking sides”, he didn’t seem too bothered watching Sirius get iced out. 

Because he hated him.

Sirius was hated. 

“Oh…hi, Y/N…” James offered awkwardly as he opened the door. 

You barely spared him a glance. “Potter.” You greeted simply as you dipped under his arm which had been holding the door open and marched towards Sirius’ bed. 

Remus pulled his head through the hole of his jumper as he watched you start digging through Sirius’ trunk, sharing a quick glance with James and Peter before his gaze moved to Sirius all but cowering in the doorframe. 

“Are you…wet?” Peter asked cautiously then, all three boys staring at you in bemusement as you packed up a duffle. 

“Yeah.” You responded simply, throwing Sirius a towel that he (thankfully) caught as everyone’s eyes fell to him. 

Sirius quickly ran the towel over his person as you let his trunk close with a loud thunk, hiked the bag you packed for him over your shoulder, and stalked out of the dorm room without sparing any of the boys - including your ex boyfriend - a passing glance. 

“Don’t you hate me?” Sirius whispered as he allowed you to lead him to the Slytherin dorms.

“No, Sirius. I hate what you did.” You sighed, never faltering in your steps but strengthening your hold on your brother's wrist. “I love you, that’s why I’m here.” 

Remus had tried telling Peter and James to leave him alone; he wanted to be alone. 

Yet somehow, every morning, the two of them would sit across from him in the Great Hall, say hello, and then talk amongst themselves whilst pretending he wasn’t there. 

That was fine, though. Remus was sort of pretending he wasn’t there, too. 

But while Remus could ignore James and Peter’s existence, Sirius’ existence, and even his own if he really tried hard enough, he couldn’t ignore your existence. 

He’d been more than slightly confused when you stormed into his dorm room last night completely drenched without your eyes ever cutting to him and packed up a bag for your equally drenched brother. 

He’d been more than slightly hurt when you left without sparing him a glance, too. Though he figured perhaps he deserved that. This is what he wanted, right?

Scratch that, actually, what he had wanted was to be safe and loved and protected by the people who promised to do that for him. That was what he had wanted.

It wasn’t until Peter and James paused in their conversation to look at Remus concernedly that he realised he had caused his tea to overflow by means of accidental magic. 

Remus threw a wad of napkins at the mess as he made to stand, but his legs felt wholly incapable of holding him up when he saw you enter the Great Hall, quickly followed by a rather dispirited looking Sirius who nearly bumped into you as you paused at the entrance.

Your gaze automatically fell to the Slytherin table where Regulus was shooting you and Sirius a perturbed look. 

You turned then towards the Gryffindor table when your gaze fell to Remus.

He found himself unable to break your gaze; he wondered if you could see the heartbreak pooling in his eyes, or the longing painted in the space between his brows.

He wondered if you could even manage to see past the new, ferocious scars decorating his face.

He certainly couldn’t. 

Your shoulders fell as you shook your head - so minutely that Remus wondered if he had only imagined it - before you grabbed Sirius’ sleeve and dragged him towards the Ravenclaw table where both Pandora and Benjy accepted the pair of you without issue. 

He was simultaneously grateful that neither of you were sitting over here and furious that the two of you deigned to sit anywhere else. You were his; his friend, and his girlfriend, you were supposed to be here with him. 

But he didn’t want either of you over here, he didn’t want… 

He didn’t…

“Moony?” James asked cautiously.

“Don’t call me that.” Remus spat before he stood abruptly and stormed out of the Great Hall. 

He never wanted any of this; sure, he wanted to go to school, but he never wanted friends. He didn’t need friends, he’d never had them before. He met some kind kids on the train who ended up being his roommates, but he was ready and willing to hold them at arm's length. 

And then…

And then he found that he rather liked their company, and that they seemed to enjoy his. And then he found that he cared for them, and that they seemed to care for him. And then they found out, and they were accepting of him. And then they did the impossible and found a way to be there for him like no one else before, they showed up for him in ways no one else had ever tried, in ways he never imagined possible. 

And then he fell in love, and then…

And then. 

And then one of the worst people Remus could imagine to know learned of his darkest secret, his biggest shame, his lifelong curse. 

And he learned that from one of his best friends; Snape learned of Remus’ darkest secret, biggest shame, and lifelong curse from one of his best friends. 

And suddenly, everything everyone had ever said about lycanthropy was true; he was a monster, unloveable, a threat and hazard to everyone around him.

And as he paused in front of a window where he could see his reflection - three violent claw marks stretching from his left eye across the bridge of his nose down over his lips - the monster stared back at him. 

He was a beast. He was a monster playing dress up; cosplaying as a wizard day in and day out when in reality, deep down, he was a vicious, disgusting freak. 

And now everyone knew it; Sirius knew it, you knew it, Snape knew it.

And for those who didn’t know it, they could suspect it; rumours flying around of how Remus managed to be mauled by some creature and survive to tell the tale, because the only thing scarier than a beast among men is a man that can take on a beast and live to tell the tale.

The worst part-

But the thought made Remus snort humourlessly, because really, how could there be a worst part of any of this? What could possibly be ‘more worse’ than the worst thing to ever happen to him, second only to being bitten all those years ago. 

But Remus supposed, wand to his head, that the worst part of all of this was losing you.

Remus let out another humourless chuckle as he let his head fall with a thunk against the windowpane. 

And the absolute fucking kicker was that losing you had been his own doing. 

For the first time in perhaps five days, you were alone. 

You sat in the farthest corner of the library near rows of tomes with enough layers of dust on them to promise you some solitude as you waited for Sirius’ meeting with McGonagall to end. 

You’d convinced him (rather forced him) to start attending his classes again, though you were certain he wasn’t exactly a delight to have in the classroom at the moment. You only hoped it was enough for the school to refrain from writing home.

You dropped your quill and pressed your fingers into your eyes hard enough to see stars. Sirius was displeased with you for ordering him about. Regulus was displeased with you for babysitting Sirius and ‘cleaning up’ after him. Your parents were displeased with you seemingly because you were born with free will. Your professors were displeased with you for submitting sloppy work because you spent the majority of your time doing Sirius’ for him in order to keep him from being expelled. Your roommates were displeased with you for smuggling a dog into your room for the past week, even though he was very well behaved and slept dutifully on the end of your bed. And Remus…

And Remus. 

He had looked so hollow and… dead when he told you this needed to end, that he couldn’t see you anymore. You didn’t think he was capable of occlusion, but that was the only thing that could possibly explain how he could manage to look at you like you didn’t even matter to him anymore.

Perhaps you didn’t.

You didn’t matter. 

Perhaps you were too much like your brother; he couldn’t forgive him, so you were unforgivable too. Perhaps you were just too much of a Black for him; perhaps he realised the mistake in keeping your kind around. 

You couldn’t blame him, you supposed.

You were a tiresome bunch. You didn’t often want to keep your kind around, either. 

You shook yourself out of your pity party and returned to your notes, only to watch as Remus pulled out a chair opposite of you at your table. 

“The library’s plenty large, Lupin; I’m sure if you looked harder you could find another table.” you offered, hoping for indignation but landing somewhere around disheartened. 

“Is Sirius alright?” He murmured quietly, and you forced your eyes up to meet his. 

He looked dead tired; his eyes were sunken and his skin was missing its warm glow. But in his eyes laid an earnestness that had you remembering just how wholly safe and full you felt whenever you found yourself pinned beneath his gaze. 

You quickly looked away.

“Not really.” You replied honestly. “But I think he deserves that.” 

Remus made a noncommittal sound as he continued staring at the top of your head; you couldn’t see it, mind you, but you could certainly feel it.

“And you?” 

“What about me?”

“Are you alright?”

“Why?” You demanded, and you looked up in time to see Remus finally look down into his lap. 

You stared at him as he wrung his hands in his lap while you catalogued the scars across his face. You wondered if where they landed over his eyes caused him any vision issues. You wondered what the ones over the bridge of his nose would feel like as you traced your fingertip over them. You wondered what the ones on his lips might feel like under your own. 

You hated them, knowing that he did too, knowing how he came to have them. But you loved them because they were his, because it was him. Because you loved him. 

“Are you alright?” You decided to ask then, and he looked up at you as if he was surprised you were still there.

“No.” He responded quickly.

“I’m sorry.” You offered, though you knew not what for. You really hadn’t done anything. 

“How-” Remus started, though he quickly looked back down at his hands as he searched for the words.

You waited for him. 

“How…can you help him?”

You felt your eyebrows furrow, because whatever you thought Remus might’ve been about to ask, it certainly wasn’t that. 

“What?” You asked dumbly. 

“How can you help Sirius? After all that he’s done?” He continued gently.

“I… because, Remus, someone has to.” 

Remus nodded as he considered your response. “There’s a… part of me that feels as though you’re choosing him over me.” 

“Remus. You chose; you made that decision for me. I didn’t choose anyone’s side.”

“So if we were still dating right now, would you have forgiven Sirius?”

“Forgiven?” You repeated incredulously. “Who said anything about forgiveness?” 

Remus simply blinked at you owlishly. 

“Remus, I cannot just sit here and let him whither away into nothing because I’m mad at him. He fucked up - big time - there’s no question about it. And deep down, I know he knows that too; that’s why he’s been torturing himself over it. There is no way in which I could treat him that would be worse than the way he’s treating himself right now. But I-”

You shook your head as you fought off the stinging in your sinuses; you did not want to cry in front of him. 

“There is no one rooting for us, Remus. No one. You’re pissed at him - rightfully so, and completely justified - Potter and Pettigrew are pissed at him too, he’s pissed at himself and I… someone has to, Remus. Someone has to root for him, I can’t…I can’t just abandon him, not when there’s no one else.” 

“I can’t… I can’t feel bad for him, Y/N.” Remus exclaimed helplessly. 

“I’m not asking you to; I’m simply telling you why I do.” 

“I don’t…I don’t know how to forgive him, dove, I don’t know how to not hate him for this.” He nearly sobbed, holding his hands out helplessly as if the grief and torment were tangible things that he could crush in the palm of his hands if only he could catch them. “Why don’t you hate him? Please tell me? Because I genuinely want to know. I need to know - I don’t…I don’t want to hate him.” 

“He’s my brother, Rem.” You said simply, shrugging your shoulders helplessly. “I hate what he’s done, I hate the choice he made, I hate the outcome of that choice, I hate what he did to you, I hate what that’s done to me, but… but I don’t hate him. I can't hate him.” 

The two of you sat in silence for a while; the only sounds coming from the odd book being magically sent back to its shelf and the odd voices from students downstairs when a study group got a touch too boisterous. 

“Do you hate me?” Remus whispered then; your eyes flit up to meet his which were already steady on you. 

“No, Remus.” You whispered back.

He nodded as his gaze fell. “Just what I did?” 

Your lip quirked in the faintest ghost of a smirk. “Yes I…I sort of hated that, I suppose.” 

“I don’t want to hate him.” He repeated.

“I know.” 

“Do you-” Remus paused, turning away and screwing his eyes shut as you realised he was crying. “Do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive me?”

“Remus…”

“I was scared, and hurt, and angry, and-” he hiccuped, reaching across the table as he nearly begged for your hand. You gave it willingly. “-and I hated him but I mostly hated myself.”

“I know, Rem.”

“Please? Do you…do you think you’d be able to forgive me? For leaving, for running, for abandoning you? You’ve never once given up on the people important to you and one bad thing happens to me and…and I just throw you away, I-” He looked at you as if he was only realising all of this now; hurt, frustration, anger, and betrayal all on your behalf flickered behind his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Remus.” You insisted, but he quickly shook his head at you. 

“It’s not; it’s not okay, I- … I’m not as gracious as you, clearly, but I just…I just feel like if you’re strong enough to forgive me then there’s…there’s hope for me, too. That maybe I can be strong enough to forgive Sirius.” 

“You’re forgiven, Remus.” 

His eyes fell shut as more tears fell, but you were sure it was more from relief than it was from pain. 

Both boys - Remus and Sirius - were so good at torturing themselves over choices they’ve made that you were certain no one else would ever have to as long as they both should live. 

And for different reasons, you loved them both beyond measure. 

“I don’t deserve forgiveness.” Remus whispered.

“Of course you do.” You countered, squeezing his hand in yours and watching as some of the tension in his shoulders dissipated. 

“Does Sirius?” He asked quietly, keeping his eyes pointed at where your joined hands sat on the table between you. 

You’re not sure when or how you became the leading expert on conflict resolution and forgiveness; perhaps it was in refereeing Sirius and Regulus’ petty squabbles growing up, perhaps it was in shielding Regulus from your parents fury, perhaps it was in trying to tame Sirius enough to keep him out of trouble, perhaps it was in being the youngest cousin along with Regulus and watching the siblings before you find their own ways to define what was right and good, perhaps…perhaps it came from the many examples of conflict and spite that you had witnessed growing up.

“I don’t know, Rem.” You answered honestly. “I think…I think the only one who can really know that is you.”

If he was displeased by your answer, he didn’t show it.

“But,” you continued cautiously, “I don’t think you have to forgive him for what he’s done. You just have to decide whether you’re going to hate him for it or love him in spite of it.” 

His lips pursed, pulling at scars both new and old in ways you’re not sure you’d ever grow tired of watching, as he nodded. “I don’t want to hate him.”

“I know, Rem.” 

“I don’t want James or Peter to hate him either…I don’t know why they were willing to watch him wither away like that.”

You couldn’t hide your smile at that; the first genuine smile since That Night. “They don’t, and they weren’t.” You countered, only moving to explain when he looked at you in bemusement. “They were the ones who told me how bad he was getting…they wanted to make sure someone was looking after him without giving into his pity party.” 

“Always taking care of everyone else, hm?” Remus murmured at you, bringing your hand up to his lips to press a delicate kiss to your knuckles. 

You simply hummed noncommittally. 

“Can I return the favour?”

“You can certainly try, but I’m quite high maintenance.” You teased gently. 

“That’s alright.” He agreed quickly. “You’re more than worth the effort.” 

You breathed out a quiet laugh through your nose. “Whatever you say, Lupin.”

[sodaabaa]

shadows and spirits, part two

azriel x reader reader is azriel's mate but she hasn't accepted the bond yet due to her fear of azriel himself.

tw: nsfw, smut, brief mentions of childhood trauma, edging, oral, restraint.

part one

a/n: holy shit y'all, azriel made me go feral with this one. enjoy ;)

“You won’t be able to stay away from him much longer,” Feyre teased. When one night stands and self-pleasure proved to be unsuccessful, Y/N gave up trying to satisfy herself altogether. Instead, ignoring the throbbing between her legs by staying as busy as she could – filling her days with extra shifts at the bar and frequent after-work drinks with Feyre. 

“Shut up.” “That’s no way to speak to your High Lady,” She gasped, a hand on her chest in feigned shock. 

Y/N scoffed, “Don’t you have places to be, my lady?” 

She waved a hand, “What could possibly be more important than watching you try to ignore how frustrated you are?”

She rolled her eyes, “I’m fine,” she said through gritted teeth. Feyre gave her a look that said ‘sure you are’ but she didn’t bring it up again. The two spent the night drinking, Y/N listened as Feyre drunkenly ranted about Rhys and Nesta’s most recent topic of debate – and by debate, she meant they nearly mauled each other to death. Y/N couldn’t help the curiosity nagging at her.

“What’s he been doing?” She finally asked.

“Sulking. Brooding. The usual.” 

Y/N nodded, for some reason she was unconvinced that the Spymaster hadn’t been up to anything.

“He doesn’t show it – much less say it – but your fear, it’s messing with him,” Feyre confessed. 

She didn’t say anything, opting for another shot instead. 

“He’s been waiting for a mate for five hundred years, Y/N. And he’s had a hard life. He shares your complaints about Illyrians because he was subjected to their cruelty just as you and your mother were. I know he can be intimidating but if you trust me at all, trust that you would be in good hands with him as your mate.”

They finally parted, a dangerous amount of alcohol in their systems as they walked off. Y/N stumbled her way to her apartment. She could’ve sworn the alleyway between the buildings were darker but she chalked it up to being drunk off her mind. When she finally reached her destination, she collapsed on her couch, exhausted. The alcohol had done a good job at dulling the incessant throbbing – so much so that she finally got a few hours of rest before dreams of a man entrenched in shadows, head between her legs, startled her awake. 

Damn you, Shadowsinger.

She rubbed her thighs together, the images of her dream flashing before her eyes. A hand traveled down her stomach, trailing to the spot between her legs she was beginning to resent. She slipped her fingers underneath her panties, giving in to the nagging arousal as she worked the spot. His face flashed before her eyes and she cursed, removing her hands and sitting up. Y/N decided to take a cold shower, if only to punish herself for thinking of that damned Illyrian. Shadows shifted in the corner and she stilled. She had no idea how his shadows worked but she had a creeping suspicion he used them as his eyes and ears.

“What happened? Too scared to come and see me yourself so you send your shadows instead?” The shadows went still and Y/N thought maybe she had imagined their movement. She shook her head, and just as she was about to walk away, a tendril of shadow reached for her hand, reluctant to touch her but it looked curious. She reached out, fingertips brushing the shadow before it retreated through the cracks of her door, disappearing into the light.

After a long, scaldingly hot shower, Y/N decided to stay home for the day because of the pounding headache thanks to her and Feyre’s drinking session the night before. She sighed as she sunk into her bed, wearing only a fluffy bathrobe, content to lounge in bed the rest of the day. Unfortunately, someone had other plans. A knock at her front door startled her from her relaxed daze. She groaned, unwilling to get up and answer the door. Another knock, this time accompanied by a velvety voice.

“What happened? Too scared to come and face me?” 

She muttered a curse under her breath and she stood, wrapping the robe just a little tighter around her body for good measure. She cracked the door open, just enough to peek through.

“What do you want, I’m in the middle of something.” He looked down at her, brows quirked up in amusement. He was holding a brown paper bag against his torso. 

“In the middle of a bad hangover?” He motioned to the bag, “I have the world’s best cure, right here.” 

She pulled the door open, ever so slightly, “I’m listening.”

“Let me in and it’s all yours.”

She considered his offer for a moment, lips twisted in silent contemplation. The two of them together, in a rather small apartment. Alone. What could possibly go wrong? “Fine – but no funny business. Keep your hands to yourself,” She pointed an accusing finger at him to which he responded with raised hands in mock surrender. She let him in, the door much too small to accommodate his tall frame and those absurdly large wings but he wiggled himself in anyway.

She snatched the bag from him and plopped down on the couch, not waiting for him to find a seat. She opened the bag and her mouth watered at the smell of the variety of greasy, fried foods he brought her. He must have seen the way her shoulders dropped in relief as she dug into the food, emitting a laugh from the normally stone faced man. She placed the bag on the table between them and pulled out the cartons of the fragrant food inside.

“What, I’m starving and hungover,” She said, in between bites. In the midst of her feast, she realized this was everything she’d usually order from Rita’s. Wedges of spicy fried potatoes, garlicky bites of chicken, and onion rings. 

“You should drink some water,” He pulled a bottle of water from the bag. 

She shook her head, “Nuh-uh, I’m not done yet.” His eyes narrowed, “Water. Now.” 

Her eyes widened at the sudden change in tone, authoritative and stern (she didn’t want to admit it made her knees go weak and her stomach flutter). She reached to take the bottle from him but he pulled it back towards himself, causing her to stumble forward

“Dick,” She spat.

“If you want some, it’s right here,” He motioned downwards.

She leaned forward and snatched the bottle, taking a few dramatic gulps to ensure he wouldn’t pester her about drinking more later. 

She sat back, hands over her stomach as she groaned, “I ate too much.” 

He laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a genuine smile. She hated to admit it but she was beginning to enjoy hearing his laugh – and being the reason behind it. His shadows swirled around him, some of them pulling away from him but not quite able to reach their desired destination. 

“How do they work?” He quirked an eyebrow in question.

“The shadows.”

“Ah. They obey me,” He said with a nod, the shadows slithered over his form and across the room. They hovered over her legs as he watched. 

She gave him a look, “Well I could see that. But are they – alive? Do they have a mind of their own? Or are they just an extension of you? Did you capture them or were you somehow born with them?” She rambled.

He smiled at her sudden interest in him and his shadows. The shadows returned to their master. 

“They’re sentient – if that’s what you mean by alive. They can feel things, sense things to an extent. Sometimes they slip from under my control but it’s easy to reign them back in,” He paused, contemplating how to answer her other questions. “My father used to lock me up in the dark. I would talk to the shadows, to feel less alone. One day, I suppose, the shadows decided to talk back. They became a part of me, tied to my pain – insistent on protecting me, helping me,” He explained, he was looking down at his hands now. She winced at his confession, at the suffering he must have endured as a child.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly.

He smiled again, “Don’t be. It was centuries ago,” he waved off.

She held his gaze, entranced by those hazel eyes. She cleared her throat, suddenly aware of how close they were, only a small coffee table separating them. 

“Thank you for the food,” She said, flustered under his gaze, “You didn’t eat anything–,” He cut her off before she could finish.

“I’m not hungry for food.” 

She stilled. Her heart pounded in her ears. “I should go, I only wanted to make sure you were okay after you and Feyre drank your weight in alcohol,” He said. She sighed in relief. 

“So you were spying on me!”

He shrugged, “You can’t expect me not to, especially if you’re drunk out of your mind.”

He stalked over to the door, wings tucked in tight to avoid bumping into anything.

“Don’t dream too much of me,” He said with a knowing smirk. She shoved him out the door and (semi) slammed it shut, exhaling as she slumped against the door.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Y/N tossed and turned in bed that night, unable to ignore the throbbing between her legs any longer. She sat up, thinking about the man who brought her food just a few hours ago. It wasn’t his dominating presence or his flirty comments that riled her up anymore – it was his vulnerability, his honesty. He confided in her, paid attention to the little details, made sure she was safe and taken care of. She peered at the corners of her room, looking for the shadows that writhed with life. When she spotted movement in the corner, she reached a hand out to it. The shadow moved like smoke, twisting and curling towards her outstretched hand, weaving in between her fingers. She giggled, it felt odd – the shadows weren’t solid, it felt almost like a cold breeze, she couldn’t quite grasp it but she could feel it there, real. 

“I’m ready,” She spoke softly. The shadow twirled around her fingers before slipping out of the room to return to its master – eager to relay the news. 

She sat in bed, knees to her chest as she waited anxiously for Azriel’s arrival. She heard the door unlock and saw the shadows pool into her room before he walked in. He looked at her with pure hunger in his eyes. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” She confessed. 

“I think I can help with that,” He stalked over to her, body pulsing with energy. She scooted back, making space for him on the bed.

“Don’t I have to feed you first? Feyre said–,” He grabbed her feet from under her, yanking to straighten her out onto the bed. The force caused her to fall back against the bed. 

“I have all I need right here,” He kneeled at the edge of the bed while his hands trailed up her bare legs.

Heat rushed to her face as he left a trail of kisses down her stomach, making his way down to her thighs – and Oh. He nipped at the inside of her thigh, dangerously close to the pulsing heat of her core.

“Are you sure?” He asked, his breath tickling her skin as he looked up at her.

She nodded, “I accept you as my mate, Azriel.” 

That was all he needed. Azriel ripped off her shorts and panties in one motion, shadows thrumming to life behind him as he devoured her. His mouth found her core, his tongue lapping at the wetness that had already formed. He chuckled, causing vibrations to shoot up Y/N’s spine.

“I haven’t even touched you and you’re soaking.” She whined in response. His tongue made a slow, tantalizing trail up her core before he settled on sucking that aching spot, instantly bringing her close to the edge. His hands roughly gripped the flesh of her thighs, keeping her spread open to his deliberations. She moaned his name, signaling how close she was to tipping over that blissful edge. He pulled away, causing her hips to buck up at the sudden interruption. 

She whined, “Azriel?” 

He placed gentle kisses moving up her stomach, hands roughly grabbing her breasts eliciting a gasp from Y/N. His tongue circled her left nipple before sucking on the gentle bud – electrifying her even further.

He pulled away, finally reaching her lips as he devoured her.

“Didn’t I say,” he broke the kiss, “that I would make you beg for mercy?” His lips returned to hers briefly, “that I would remind you of your obstinance?” 

She looked up at him with wide eyes, unsure of what to say. 

“Have you resigned to your fate?” She nodded.

“Good girl,” He whispered.

He pulled back from her, lifting his shirt off and sitting up to undo his pants. She swallowed as her eyes trailed down his body. He was made of pure muscle, tattoos black as night swirling across his torso made his muscular form even more prominent. Her eyes trailed down to his hips, licking her lips involuntarily. 

“You’re drooling,” He said.

Her eyes shot back up to his, taking in the amusement written across his face.

“I was not,” She defended herself (rather pathetically). He only hummed, unconvinced and amused at the flustered girl before him.

She looked down at him once he finally revealed himself. Her eyes widened — in fear? Apprehension? She nervously wiggled her hips underneath him, unsure of how he could possibly fit. 

“I don’t think—,” She was cut off by Azriel’s dangerously low voice. He leaned down, hot breath trailing up her neck, “You’re gonna take every inch like the good little slut that you are,” He whispered against her and then placed a few burning kisses behind her ear, causing her stomach to churn.

He smirked against her skin, pleased at how timid she suddenly became. He lined himself up against her, Y/N’s breaths now rapid in anticipation. He pushed himself forward, ever so slightly, allowing her to adjust to his tip. Her eyes rolled back at the sudden invasion, unable to control the lewd sounds that came out of her mouth. He pushed in deeper, drawing out another moan from the girl beneath him. She put a hand on his chest to stop him from going deeper, already overwhelmed with a wave of intense pleasure, it rolled through her core and nearly broke her. And this was just the beginning. He leaned his head down, lips finding sensitive spots on her jaw, her neck, trailing down to her collarbone while he waited for her to adjust. She clenched around him involuntarily, eliciting a snarl from the man. His shadows snaked up her legs, holding them apart as he sunk deeper. She gasped as he went deeper, inching closer and closer to her wall. She screamed out in pleasure, legs struggling against the shadows, hips bucking underneath him. 

“Az! Please, it’s too much,” She gasped. 

He hit her walls, pleased with her loss of composure. He pulled out and with a kiss on her lips, sunk right back in, all in one swift motion that had Y/N gasping for air. He continued to push into her as she writhed and moaned and clawed at him. Her brain had effectively shut off, the only thing she could feel, the only thing she could think about was his cruel, punishing cock pounding in and out of her. 

“You were made to take all of me, you know that? The Cauldron created you, just for me,” He growled, punctuating his words with hard thrusts, “To be my plaything, my mate,” another thrust, “I bet you hate the idea of being bred but look at you, your cunt is milking my cock, going against everything you thought you believed in, desperate to be filled with my cum.”

She arched her back as he continued brutalizing her. Overwhelmed, she tried to push him off, give her space to breathe but he responded with shadows snaking up her arms, holding her against the bed, entirely at his mercy. She was fully restrained now, legs held wide apart, arms above her head. Her moans increased in pitch and pace, her body on the brink of total, ecstatic relief. A few tears slipped down her cheeks, Azriel kissed them away as he increased his rhythm. Her mouth agape, in a silent scream as he tore into her. 

“Should I let you cum, hm?” He watched her intently, taking in every moan, every whimper, all the ways her face contorted in response to his hands on her body, his cock buried deep inside her. 

“You’ve been such a good girl, taking me so well, and you’ve been on edge for weeks now,” He looked at her with a devilish grin. She whimpered. 

“Beg for it, baby,” His voice was tauntingly soft. She scrunched her face, unable to make any sound let alone speak as he fucked her. He knew this as he slowed, bringing Y/N ever so slightly down from the high she could almost feel. 

“No!” She called out desperately, “please, please Azriel. Don’t stop. I need to cum, please let me cum!” She screamed, her voice hoarse. 

He picked up the pace again, rewarding her obedience. 

“I’m sure that pretty mouth can do a lot better,” He chastised, “What do you need, Y/N, who do you need?”

“You! I need you Az, please! I need you to make me cum! Please, I’m begging you,” she pleaded. 

“Who am I?” 

When she didn’t answer, he pushed into her with an especially rough thrust.

“My mate!” She moaned in response.

“Who do you belong to?” 

“You! Az, I belong to you!” Her voice strained as she inched painfully close to release. 

He groaned as he picked up the pace, at this point Y/N saw stars, her teary eyes shut as Azriel’s final thrusts drove her over the edge, unable to make sound or focus on anything but the excruciating pleasure possessing her body. Her back arched as she panted through her orgasm. She felt a hot release inside her as Azriel groaned against her, his pace slowed and his body going taut as he finished too. The pleasure hadn’t stopped, it rolled through her like aftershocks of an earthquake, drawing out soft whimpers and moans. 

“What do you say?” A hand gripped her chin.

“Thank you,” She said meekly. 

He smiled and finally pulled out of her. His forehead resting against hers as their breaths came in and out. His arms snaked around her waist as he rolled them over to the side. His wings cocooning over her like a blanket, shadows resting lazily across their bodies. He kissed the top of her head as she snuggled into his chest. 

“I’m gonna be so sore tomorrow,” She whimpered. 

“Good. It’ll teach you not to mouth off or deny me of what’s mine ever again,” He chuckled against her. 

She didn’t have the strength to reply with some witty comment, she merely snuggled in closer, basking in his warmth and drifting off to the most restful sleep she’d ever had. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Azriel woke up to his shadows lazily trailing over his mate’s bare body. He admired her sleeping form, grateful for the moment of peace before he was forced to head off to work. His shadows heard this thought, sulking against her body possessively, unwilling to leave her so soon. 

I know, I don’t wanna leave her either. 

The shadows tickling her skin caused her to stir but not quite enough to wake up. His face turned stern, the shadows begrudgingly returning back to their master. She’d need her rest for when Azriel returned so he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and hastily wrote a note to explain his absence. The shadows reluctantly followed as Azriel left her room, but they stopped in the kitchen — insistent on starting a pot of coffee to brew along with some sliced fruits they set out on a plate. Azriel chuckled lightly at the shadows' instant attachment and show of affection to his mate. 

She’s mine, he teased. 

He felt the shadows bounce against his chest, trying to knock him off balance. He shook his head, exiting the apartment with the shadows rushing to keep up behind him.

[suiana]

(yandere! t-rex hybrid x gn! worker reader) (wrote this because i saw this one video where it said t-rexes actually had good eyesight n stuff...) (erm brief violent and murder description)

you thought he couldn't see you.

that's what you were told. they told you that he had poor eyesight, that you wouldn't have to worry about him seeing you.

you saw that he had a mask on. the guards probably put it on to block his nose, so obviously it wasn't that he smelt you. tracks? you and your friend were careful to not leave any obvious ones. noise? surely you two weren't that noisy...

so how on earth did he find you two?!

"haha... oh, your face is so cute."

the hybrid snorts, wiping away the blood on his cheek as he trudges towards you. you take a step back, trying to put distance between you and the volatile hybrid. with shaky breaths, you nervously recall the previous events that had happened for things to have led to this.

you and your friend were tasked to enter the t-rex hyrid's enclosure after hours to look for something that a scientist had previously left inside. a chemical of sorts, one that made the hybrids more aroused and violent.

the guards and higher ups all said that they had tranqualized him and that he wouldn't be awake. they even said that if by any chance he had woken up he would be in poor condition and you two would be able to escape easily.

that was far from the truth.

the second you entered his enclosure, your friend had informed you that he could hear something moving. that should've been your cue to leave but... you were naive and wanted to finish your task. you should've known that there was something going on when the scientists let you two in without any form of protection.

because unfortunately, a few minutes after that, you watched in horror as the hybrid ripped your friend to pieces, mercilessly taking your friend away from you. his screams ring in your ear, forever traumatizing you as his mauled body now lay just a few feet away from you and the hybrid.

which is what brings us to your current predicament.

"you... how did you find us?! they said you were tranqualized and-"

you nervously babble, pointing a shaky finger at the bloodied hybrid who smiles sinisterly at you. you watch as he shrugs, taking long strides as he licks the blood of your friend off his fingers.

"what? never expected me to find you huh?"

he snickers, eyes looking down at you as though you were some sort of ant. you could only let out a soft whimper as you try to back up, only to trip on a rock as the hybrid laughs cruelly.

"oh you really are so cute! look at you! all scared and shaking... do you think i'll kill you?"

the hybrid mocks, smiling at you as his sharp teeth make you dread what he may do to you. shit, those teeth look sharper than knives! it'll be like going through a meat grinder!

"p-please! i only wanted to retrive something that the higher ups told me to do! i thought you had bad eyesight and-"

"me? bad eyesight?"

the hybrid interrupts, pausing in his steps as he raises an eyebrow at you.

"my dear, my eyes are far from being bad. in fact, i think they may be better than yours."

he laughs at you, shaking his head as you feel helplessness fill your mind. what? his eyesight was... good? did the higher ups lie to you?

"that's how i found you two obviously. this damn... muzzle blocks my senses."

he grumbles, poking the mask that restricted his sense of smell. you watch in horror as he suddenly pins you to the ground, a crazed look in his eyes as you say your final prayers. shit... you were definitely going to die here, weren't you?

"i'm so glad those people kept their promise... wanted you for so long."

he mutters, his tail wrapping around your leg as you freeze in place. ah... so this really was a set-up from the very beginning.

"a-are you going to eat me?"

you stammer, looking up at him as tears prick your eyes. shit, so your employers really were sending you and your friend to your deaths, huh? did they run out of food? and promise? was this damned t-rex thirsting over you and your friend? did the higher ups promise to give you as meat if he did something?

you whimper softly, looking at the t-rex as your body shakes fearfully. meanwhile, the hybrid remained quiet for a second, processing your words before deadpanning at you.

"eat you? ah... so they didn't tell you, huh?"

he mumbles, pursing his lips together before snickering again. little did you know that your fate would've been worse than just being offered to the hybrid as a piece of meat.

"why would i eat my future mate?"

"huh?"

oh. so they offered more than just your body to him.

"oh... so you're not going to eat me?"

"well i will eat you, just in a... different way. i'll eat your friend for real though."

you maintain eye contact with him, fear leaving your body momentarily. you blink slowly, staring at him with an exasperated expression before he breaks the silence with his words.

"what? why are you looking at me like that?"

oh wow, maybe because he just admitted to wanting to eat you? sexually? ugh... you can't tell whether this was worser than just being mauled to death like your poor friend over there.

the hybrid notices how your eyes drifted towards your friend before he pouts. his eyebrows furrow slightly, and the corners of his lips point downwards.

"aw, come on! i'll treat you good, promise!"

you stare at him with a dead expression before replying to him in the most deadpan voice you could come up with.

"you literally live in a dinosaur enclosure."

"hey! it's not my fault that those humans took me away and placed me in here! besides... it's pretty comfortable. they give me food and i don't really need to hunt anymore."

he then pouts before sighing dreamily.

"you really are the prettiest... can't believe i had to adore you from afar."

he shakes his head before using one of his hands to caress your cheek. you freeze as you feel his sharp claws touch your skin. shit, were they always this sharp? and what the hell did he mean by adore? did he like you?

"a-adore me? what, are you in love or something-"

"love? yeah... i am in love with you... even if this is the first time we officially talked."

he mutters, hearts in his eyes as he continues to gently touch your face as though you were a delicate statue.

huh... so he loves you? no wonder he isn't eating you... yeah, you remember doing some tasks in his enclosure before this encounter. maybe that's when he fell for you. wait, didn't he also say something about a promise?

"hey the promise-"

"ah, i said i would stop trying to eat them if they gave you to me."

oh.

so the higher ups really traded you and your friend just so this dinosaur guy would stop trying to eat them.

you continue deadpanning at him before groaning. damn it, why did you have to be subjected to the feelings of this stupid hybrid?

[yandere-sins]

Monstober - Day 7: Sphinx

Sphinx are my personal horror. Like, they actually manage to scare me. So... I tried to make them more likable for me, although it makes me add more fiction to an already existing concept :')

Prompt: Sphinx | Riddles // Sand // Giant Warnings: Yandere, Fem!Reader (Gets called "girl" only once but I should probably leave a note here), Violence (Sharp Teeth, Claws, Mention of Death, Mention of being buried alive, Being mauled to death (not the main character)), Monster and Monster Characteristics, Long Post

"Please... Please, you got to help me!"

Your sobs grew louder as you fell to your knees before the giant creature, your hands latching onto her paw, and for some reason, she didn't use it to crush you right then and there. Perhaps it was the desperation in your voice, or maybe the guardian of the ancient resting place of so many of your ancestors was weak to tears. Still, she didn't even growl despite you bursting into her sanctuary unannounced and, frankly, rudely.

Following the tales and warnings you had received since childhood, you should have acted properly and with dignity. But instead, you were inconsolable as you sobbed into her fur. Something about the image of the great sphinx and you, a mere human at her feet, had comical traits of one of the performances you made at the theater. However, what you once loved so much was now the furthest thing on your mind.

"Child of Man, do not sully my fur so," the sphinx finally spoke, and you rose from her paw, wiping the tears and snot from your face.

"I'm so sorry, Great Protector. But I just don't know what to do."

The sphinx shook her paw as if to get rid of the tears you had wetted it with before she sat down on her rear legs. Even though you knew she was alive, you couldn't help but feel like she was a golden monument. The statue of a god you were praying to—truly, as she was your last hope.

"Pray tell your worries then. I've been visited so little by your kind in the last years, it shall dissolve my boredom."

"They want to marry me off!" you explained bluntly, and her slitted pupils expanded upon hearing this before she closed her eyes altogether. Her whole body collapsed as she roared bellowing laughter at your misery. More tears—this time from frustration and disappointment—flooded your eyes. You couldn't even defend yourself with the sound of her laughter carrying far and wide through the cliffs all around the burial site, echoing and resounding, slapping you with her mockery.

"That's it?" she asked dismissively, making it clear your concerns weren't hers. "You come to me with a matter so trifling? Why should I care, Human, who you are to marry?"

"Because he's old!" you screamed against her roars, and though not disappearing completely, her laughter grew more subtle, turning into chuckles.

"So? Is that not desirable? Do you not wish to part ways with a man you don't want?"

It was nearly impossible to hold back your raging feelings of despair and anger and temper yourself. You should have expected her not to be indulgent to your whims, but you still had hoped as she was a protector. Leaning her head down to you, she twisted it from side to side, staring at you expectantly as she waited for your answer. Her lips parting to reveal her fangs should have made you quickly gather your bearings and leave, but you simply couldn't.

Death by being eaten, perhaps, was more merciful than what this marriage would be.

"They'll bury me with him."

Shoulders slumping, you looked down, staring at the sand softly clouding on the ground as the sphinx moved to stand before you properly again. This time, you didn't face her. Instead, you listened to the ruffling of her fur, wishing you could bury yourself in it instead. Of course, the great sphinx was no pet, but she resembled the cat you once called your own with her brown fur. It made you want to seek comfort.

"He won't make it very long anymore, and his last wish is to be married. My family couldn't refuse receiving most of his estate in exchange for my hand in marriage, but now they won't even reconsider, knowing the family plans to bury me with him—alive!"

The sphinx hummed, sitting back down again, which made more sand clouds rise, and you looked up, straight into her eyes watching you.

"It is the way of all things except mine. You would not wish for a life as long as I have. Why defy your fate?"

"Because it's too early!" you protested weakly, letting out a sigh.

"I studied to perform at the theater, to sing and dance. I worked my way up in society, and there was no one who aided me! They are all my accomplishments! And I barely had a chance to showcase what I can do and what I have studied so hard for! All I did cannot lead to me pitifully ending in the tomb of a man I didn't ask to marry!"

You sighed, shaking your head. Clasping your hands together in the motion of a prayer, you held them above your head, bowing to her as you made your final attempt at pleading with her. It almost seemed lost, but you couldn't sink deeper than you already had.

"They are coming for me soon. They always feared I'd run away, so they'll not stop their pursuit until they find me here, where I am asking, for once in my life, for help. Your help. Please, Great Sphinx, find it in you to aid me!"

"I see," she finally relented, and your pulse quickened while you tried not to get your hopes up. Her understanding meant little when she decided not to take action. "Then what do I gain?"

Your breath escaped you as you looked up at her, trying to wager her thoughts. What was there you could give? A monster's help never came cheap, but it was much easier to figure out what they wanted by letting them tell you, their instincts never betraying them, unlike how humans acted on greed and desire.

"What do you want?"

Her tail flicked in the air, smashing and rattling the ground she sat on. Briefly, she averted her eyes, rolling them unnaturally slowly in their sockets as she thought, but soon enough, her lips split into the uncanny grin that suited her well as she came to her conclusion.

"You'll solve my riddle. If you can't, you die here and now and feed me." Her grin widened, sharp teeth glistening between them as if she enjoyed the thought.

"If you solve it, I will ask the same riddle to your pursuers once they come here. If they answer it correctly, I will eat them, and you are free to go, but if not, you will stay here for as long as I wish, amusing me with your song and dance while I get to feed on those that come to get you. Is that a deal you want to make, Child of Man?"

"Yes," you replied, not thinking twice. In reality, you were nervous, your heart thumping out of your chest, ribs aching. But you had come prepared, and you knew that it was possible for the sphinx to give you a riddle, her favorite pastime. Getting to your feet, you braced yourself, noticing how the fur of the creature ruffled in excitement or perhaps the anticipation of a good meal. Regardless, you told yourself to not be discouraged by her confidence.

"Then tell me, what means more to you than it does to me?"

You knew there was no time limit on the question. And yet, you felt the pressure of the sphinx awaiting your answer with hunger in her stomach and desire in her eyes. Reckoning that she wasn't as malicious as the childhood stories made her out to be, didn't help you in the face of your demise. She may have enjoyed having her riddle solved, but to her, it didn't really matter as she came out as the winner. Only for you was it a matter of life and death, and...

"My life..." you whispered out loud, the thought escaping you before you could hold yourself back. Even with your hand clasping over your mouth could you not take back the involuntary answer you gave the sphinx, and she cackled maniacally at your mistake.

"Correct," she purred, settling down on all fours and bumping her enormous head against your body, just like a cat would. Curling your hands into fists, you resisted the urge to pet her, the sound of her purring rumbling through the ground.

"You may stand beside me, for they are coming. Their armor is such a bothering ringing in my ears, yet it will save them from nothing."

An enormous boulder fell off your shoulders, even bringing forth a small smile as you quickly moved forward, positioning yourself next to her paw again. Strangely enough, it was the safest place for you at that moment, and you held onto her fur as the rattling of armor and shouting reached you that she had long heard.

"It's not usually so lively here," the sphinx sighed, her tail flicking and whirling up more sand.

"But it is, always, someone's grave."

"So, what will it be?" the sphinx asked, impatiently waiting for the answer from the four men who had been debating over the riddle for way too long. They felt the pressure, too, you were sure.

Although they made their intentions clear that they were here for you, speaking reverently and dutifully to the sphinx, she told them they'd have to solve the riddle or die trying to tear you from her grasp. However, you didn't forget your own deal with her, and between checking if she was preoccupied, you had been gesturing to the men, trying to help them and yourself.

It felt terrible since you were trying to save yourself by sacrificing them, but it had to be done. At least, you wouldn't have to go back to your village either way, but staying with the sphinx and perhaps one day becoming her meal wasn't the consequence you wanted to have either.

So you pointed at yourself since they wanted you. Then you did the universal sign of chopping your head off to signal death. Death and life, the man should have understood it since they wanted you alive and well to marry the old man. And finally, you pointed towards them. Their life, that's all they had to say.

The sphinx had no reason to honor her promises, but at the same time, she didn't have a reason to save you either. Yet, here she was, doing it in a way that suited her, even if it was hard to believe that despite her monstrous appearance, giant size, and appetite for humans, she could be so benevolent.

"Have you decided yet?" she asked, changing up her question in hopes of making one of the men nervous enough to give an answer.

Surprisingly, one of them reacted, the youngest of the soldiers nervously stepping forward, wringing his hands and glancing back over his shoulder a few times to get confirmation.

"The... The girl," he answered, and you felt your body stiffen as he gave you a short smile, not knowing the verdict yet. However, the sphinx bristled in excitement, cackling like she had with your answer before she lowered her head, grinning at the young man.

"Wrong," she revealed, fangs snapping forward, and you yelped in horror and shock as you heard the crunching of bones and metal, one bite enough to break through the man's body. The sphinx got up on her four feet, and with an ease that shouldn't have been impossible for a body this big, she pounced on the others that screamed and readied their weapons, just not in time to fight her off.

Maybe you screamed as the men were ripped apart one by one, a fun hunt for the sphinx, but not so much for you who had to witness it.

Maybe you simply cowered in silence until their gurgles and crunching bones stopped resounding in the atrium of the ancient burial site.

"They are wrong, you know?" you heard the sphinx call out to you, and you slowly lifted your head, not wanting to see the carnage on the ground. But her face, smothered in blood and looking so much more horrific than it had before, wasn't easy to stomach either. The wind blew through the pillars surrounding the hall, dragging out the sand stained with the blood of innocent soldiers who had been sent to "rescue" you and the severity of the situation began to sink in.

You only felt the tears brimming at your eyelids, but you didn't spill them, not when you were almost worse off than these guys. The sphinx laid down next to you, separating you from the entrance and exit to her lair with her gigantic body. Letting you go was not her plan, and you had agreed to this arrangement without thinking twice.

"What about?" you asked dully, watching her very human face lick her blood-stained paws with the naturalness of any feline creature. You'd have to accept that about her if you were stuck here now. But the thought had yet to fully register.

"You mean a lot to me, even if they didn't think so. But at least I get to keep you now, and you'll be my little songbird."

Tears broke loose as you sacked to the floor, her tail flopping against the sand as you began sobbing miserably. And she let you, as she had from the very beginning. Was this an outcome she had anticipated? One she allowed to happen as the opportunity arose? You would have been dead had you not done anything, buried with the corpse of a man you didn't even know. But now that you were in this situation, you realized your death had always been predetermined.

You merely prolonged the fateful day that you'd be buried here.

[mediumgayitalian]

“Death Breath! Hey! Wait up!”

Nico bolts. He makes it about ten feet away from his cabin door before Will and his stupid long legs catch up with him, throwing an arm over his shoulder and then immediately tripping over his own foot and sending them both sprawling.

“I hate you,” Nico groans, curling up on the grass.

It’s too early for any of this. He was just trying to get back at Cecil for covering everything he owned in aluminum foil last week — and then he was going to go right the hell back to bed.

He knew he should have fucking shadow travelled.

“Aw, c’mon. You love me.”

Nico pretends to gag. The only thing he gets is Will’s crossed arms and raised eyebrow, so he doubles down and really starts to retch. Whatever. It’s eight thirty in the morning. He fell asleep at five. Rational thinking is a distant, distant memory.

“Whenever you’re done.”

“I will be sick at the thought for the next eight weeks,” Nico informs him. For dramatic effect, he looks up at Will’s face — which he cant even see, since the sun’s in his eyes — and shudders.

“You know, you have a genuine, beautiful talent for the dramatic arts, the likes of which I have never seen. Are you sure you’re not secretly an Apollo kid?”

I better not be, ‘cause then all the staring I do at your calves would be real weird, he thinks to himself, then considers whether he can convince Kayla to give him a lobotomy. He thinks she might like the opportunity.

“Piss off,” he says instead of that, artfully schooling his face into the aristocratic mask he’s perfected from his father, squaring his shoulders and looking at Will like he’s a pebble lodged in the flesh of his heel.

Will rolls his eyes. “Get up, Sharpay Evans. You’re gonna stain your shirt worse than you already have.”

Nico sniffs haughtily. “My shirt is perfectly fine, thank you very much. I order them in black for a reason.”

He notices a giant grass stain on the side when he stands. He ignores it. Will does not.

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re the Goth King.”

“Ghost King.”

“Right, right. That helps your case.”

Nico shoves him, fighting back a grin. “Whatever, Solace. What are you bothering me for?”

“Oh, yeah!”

Nico is a deeply cheesy person. Down to the core of him, past all the sarcasm and prickliness and trauma, or whatever, he’s made of fucking mozzarella, because what business does he have comparing Will’s eyes to the morning winter sky? Huh? That’s embarrassing. It isn’t even original. If Nico caught anyone saying shit like that out loud in real life, he’s collapse into the shadows from embarrassment. He needs electroshock therapy.

“I was thinking —”

“Rare,” Nico quips, just to watch Will’s eyebrow twitch. It does. Nico smiles.

“I was thinking,” he repeats, mocking glare in Nico’s direction, “that you and me go to the city this afternoon.”

“You chased me across camp for that?”

“Oh, please, Zombie Face. I chased you maybe twenty yards.”

“I think all that time sniffing rubbing alcohol has deteriorated your brain.”

“I think I’m going to shove you in the lake.”

“Feel free to try. You will not wake up the next morning.”

“Nah.” Will shoots him a smug smile. Nico trips over air. “I can be as annoying as I want and you still won’t kill me. I have impunity.”

Nico rolls his eyes, refusing to dignify that with an answer. The less he acknowledges his own shame, the more likely it will go away on its own. Probably.

“Anyways. Guess what Cecil told me today.”

“His last will and testament?” Nico guesses, suddenly remembering his reason for being up this early.

“No, no, not that.” Will pauses. “Well, I mean, he did. I passed it on to Chiron. He has requested that when you maul him, you avoid his face, because he wants to be a sexy corpse and he can’t do that if you destroy his prettiest features.”

“Noted. Please inform him I will come for him within a window of the next fifteen hours.”

Theres a very particular face Will makes when he finds something genuinely funny. A smile a little more crooked than his regular one, teeth working at his bottom lip to hold it back, left dimple appearing in his cheek. It makes Nico want to do stupid things like press his thumb into said divot. He instead shoves his hands deeply into his pockets.

“I’ll let him know.” He clears his throat. “Anyways. You know what day it is today?”

Nico squints. “Tues…day? No, Wednesday.” He glances at Will. It’s been maybe….three days since their weekly sleepover? No, fuck, four. He thinks. “Thursday. Final answer.”

“Monday,” Will corrects, “and, gods, you need to sleep more. And a calendar. But no, that’s not my point.”

“Feel free to get to it.”

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Will finally explains. He tries for exasperated, but it doesn’t work — he’s clearly excited, bouncing on the balls of his feet and waving his hands. “And The Five Seasons is doing half off for couples, so you and I need to go!”

He waves his hands, as if tying off some grand reveal. His (blue blue blue blue) eyes are squeezed nearly shut by the force of his beam, which lessons slightly with every second Nico does not respond.

“William,” he says finally. He opens his mouth, then closes it again. “William.”

Will pouts. “What?”

“Explain how this is relevant to me, William.”

“Aw, c’mon, Nico! Don’t be difficult!”

“William,” stresses Nico again. “We are not a couple. Did you hit your head again?”

“Well, duh, Neeks, it’s about the scam!” He flaps his hand in a way Nico assumes is meant to convey something. “We’re gonna — eat! Cheap! By pretending to be a couple!” Now both hands are flopping, paired with wide, imploring eyes. “Obviously!”

“Obviously,” Nico repeats, slowly. He instructs one half of his brain to keep its focus on not melting into a puddle of blushing embarrassed goo, and the other to exercise restraint and not strangle the boy in front of him. A headache begins to press behind his eyes. “Will, what the shit.”

“You of all people!” Will throws his hands up. “You love scamming people! You hate corporate holidays! You frequently throw pebbles at people who look, and I quote, too obnoxiously happy! You’re the best hater I know! You should be on board!”

He makes a compelling point. Not that Nico is going to make that easy for him.

“You seem very invested in this,” Nico points out. He manages to keep his voice tastefully judgmental, which he’s very proud of.

“Of course I am! I want cheap Five Seasons food, godsdammit!” He pauses, switching tactics. “Nico,” he says softly. He puts a gently hand on Nico’s forearm, making him freeze. He is suddenly very, very close, and wow, did his hair always frame his face in gentle waves? Has that always been a thing? “I really, really want to scam a restaurant with you.” He smiles, small and crooked and gods, Will doesn’t look dangerous very often, but holy Hades when he does — “Will you make my Valentines, and scam a restaurant with me?”

His fingers begin to trace little circles in the inside of Nico’s wrist.

“Yes,” he squeaks, voice cracking.

“Yes!” Will cheers, pulling his fist. “Yes, hell yes, Nico! We are going to scam the shit out of this restaurant! Half off for couples? How about half off for heathens! Free money, baby! Fuck yeah!”

He turns back towards Nico, smile still wide and radiant, blinking eyes pools of sparkling excitement. Nico’s knees go a little weak. “I’ll come get you at 2! Thank you, Neeks!”

He runs off back to his cabin, only tripping twice. Nico watches him go, feeling a little like he’s tripping, too, with all the swooping his stomach is doing.

“Dude,” he mumbles to himself, shaking his head. “Be normal. Christo.”

It takes him ten straight minutes to get back to his cabin, even though he’s standing at the porch.

———

The obsidian handle of the Hades’ cabin door rattles.

“Neeks!” calls a voice behind the door, “you ready to go?”

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.” Nico scrambles over to the mirror and stares at himself. He turns a little to the left. He scowls. “Shit!” Tugging the shirt off, he turns back to his closet, tossing the piece of clothing to join the rest of its brethren on the floor. “Shitfuck. Fuckshit. Shit.”

“Nico!”

“Coming!”

Tapping his foot rapidly, he looks harder, as if that will magically make the right shirt pop into existence, perfectly pressed, on a hanger. “Shit.”

“What could possibly be taking so long? You’ve had two hours!”

“I care about my appearance, Mr Flip Flops and Scrubs!”

“Bleh bleh! Hurry up!”

Nico bites his lip. It shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t, really. Five Seasons is not actually a fancy restaurant. He and Will just like to joke that it is, because it has tablecloths. They’ve gone there dozens of times before; they stop every time they’re in the city for supply runs or visits to Olympus or to harass their summer-only friends at school. There is literally no reason for Nico to be stressing about what stupid shirt he should wear. Gods know Will is wearing cargo shorts.

“Nico!”

“I’m coming!“

Scowling, he digs through the pile of discarded clothes until he finds the first shirt he’d put on — a dark green button up that was given to him, along with a bunch of other fancy clothes he never wears, by the Aphrodite cabin. He hastily shoves their buttons through their holes, cursing when he mixes them up and has to start over, and sprints over to the mirror to inspect himself.

The shirt looks good. It’s a little tight on the arms, which he suspects was on purpose, and the colour compliments his skin nicely. The buttons are a dark, shiny brown that match his eyes. They pair nice with his simple jeans and black vans, casual enough that he doesn’t look like he’s going to Prom, or anything stupid like that, but dressy enough that it looks like he put effort in. He runs his fingers through his hair, trying to make the staticky strands sit right, but gives up pretty quickly. It’s okay if one thing is a little messy, right?

“Finally,” huffs Will as the door swings open. He glances Nico up and down, then grins. “You look great.”

Nico was right. He is indeed wearing cargo shorts, although to his credit they are his one pair without various Head Medic stains. His sweater, too, is a pretty blue, V-necked, long-sleeved, and a completely different style than his shorts. It clashes horribly. His shoes are, for some reason, bright solid pink. Nico suspects Hecate magic. His hair is braided in two French braids, his favourite way to wear it. Nico believes he is also wearing a touch of sparkly eyeshadow.

“You look dorky.”

Will grins wider. “Thank you! I wouldn’t let anyone help me choose something.”

“You should have.”

“I wanted it to be authentic, Nico. Also, got something for you.” From behind his back, he pulls out a handful of daisies, black dirt clinging to their roots, like he plucked them straight from the ground. Nico is inexplicably endeared by the image, and prays the smile on his face is less soft than he knows it is.

“You got me flowers?”

“Well, duh, Avril Lavigne. We gotta sell the scam.”

Nico brings them close to his face and inhales deeply. They smell fresh and earthy and sweet.

“That’s a stupid reason to bring someone flowers.”

“Give them back, then.”

“No. Fuck off. They’re mine.”

Will’s eyes twinkle. “Okay.” He holds out his arm. “Ready to go?”

The jump is close enough that Nico can convince him to shadow travel, and not just because he sadistically looks forward to the shade of green Will’s face will get after. As dangerous as he knows it can be, he misses it, sometimes. There’s something comforting about it, something soothing and familiar. Shadow travelling to the restaurant eases any lingering nerves.

“If you’re gonna throw up, do it somewhere I can’t hear you,” he says as they materialize in an alley.

Will’s cheeks puff out. “I’m gonna do it on your fuckin’ shoes.”

“I will leave your ass here, Solace, I swear to the gods.” Despite his grumbling, he rests a cool hand on the back of Will’s neck until he’s recovered. “Good?”

“Yeah.” He straightens, dusting off his sweater. “Let’s go.”

Nico follows him down the alley and onto the street, elbowing past the crowd of pedestrians until they approach the familiar glass doors. He rolls his eyes fondly every time Will apologizes to someone.

“You need to be meaner.”

Will sticks his tongue out and tries to trip him. Unfortunately, he only manages to throw himself off balance, nearly crashing to the floor of Nico hadn’t caught him.

“Good gods, Solace.”

“That was your fault!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The doors of the restaurant are absolutely plastered in cheesy red hearts and bows and cartoon kisses. And, as promised, a giant sign promising couples a fifty percent discount on their meals.

“My love,” says Will dramatically, holding out a hand, “shall we?”

Nico sighs, resting his hand delicately in Will’s. It sparks with electricity, like it always does. “I suppose.”

“Party pooper.”

“I’m not hearing oh, Nico, thank you so much for doing this incredibly stupid thing with me, you are my dearest friend and I owe you one. Or three, for some reason.”

Will’s mouth twitches. “Oh, Nico, thank you so much for —”

Nico shoves him, laughing. “Shut up.”

They’re seated pretty quickly, server smiling when they take notice of their clasped hands. Will orders chicken tenders, like he does every single time without fail, and water. Nico orders from the adult menu and absolutely does not make any kind of show about it.

“There is nothing babyish about chicken tendies.”

“Oh, of course not.”

“Is this about you having a credit card? That does not make you more adult than me. It makes you a nepo baby.”

“Mhm. Sure thing.”

“Nobody likes a nepo baby, Nico.”

“Look, I think your drink comes with a complimentary sippy cup.”

Teasing and joking with Will is so easy that Nico forgets the core of their mission. The pink garlands hanging from the ceiling fade into the background — he’s too busy crying with laughter when Will nearly chokes to death on a french fry, too busy flicking a forkful of food at his shoulder just to make him shriek, too busy kicking his shin under the table. He catches Nico’s foot between his the fourth time he tries it, keeping it trapped for the rest of the meal. Nico finds he doesn’t mind.

“And your bill,” says their server when they’re done, setting down a slip of paper. “Forgive me if I’m being presumptuous, but do you two qualify for today’s discount?”

Will smirks widely. “We do,” he says, with no small amount of pleasure. He shoots Nico the least subtle wink of all time. Nico rolls his eyes, cheeks going a little pink.

“Great! You guys have a wonderful Valentine’s day.”

“You, too.”

The server hurries away, turning to their other tables. Will’s smile is wide and smug.

“I knew it would work.”

“Duh. Easiest scam in the world, Solace.”

He sticks his tongue out. “And thus the best payout. You’re welcome.”

“Blah, blah. Gimme the bill.”

“Um, no way, di Angelo. I’m paying.”

He opens his wallet before Nico can stop him, mouthing as he counts the bills.

“What? No! I’m paying.”

“Are not.”

“Am too!”

“Are not.” He sets down a couple twenties. Nico snatches them right back up. “You we’re just complaining about my credit card!”

“Exactly. Thus my need to continue to pretend you don’t have one, so we can continue our friendship.”

“Solace, I swear to the gods.”

“di Angelo, I swear to the gods.”

Nico stares him down. Will stares back. He doesn’t even try to hide his lazy grin, his laughing eyes.

“You’re not paying for this by yourself,” Nico says firmly. “You don’t have a job. My father invented being rich.”

“Sure, but I made you come with me.”

“Ugh!” Nico throws his hands up, imagining how satisfying it would be to wrap his hands around that long neck (followed by his teeth and his tongue and his —). “Why are you impossible? I would’ve gone with you no matter what, stupid!”

As soon as he says it he wants to stick his head in wet cement. For a brief second, something like surprise flits across Will’s face, before he schools it back into his teasing smirk.

“Well, obviously, Death Breath. I’m excellent company.”

“You’re literally the most annoying person I know.”

“And yet here you are, hanging out with me, of your own volition.”

“…I’m paying next time.”

Will grins. “Whatever you say.”

They walk around the city for a while before heading back to camp. Will says it’s because he needs the air, Nico knows it’s because he wants him to rest a little longer before trying to shadow travel again. He tries not to let himself get all melty inside.

(Nobody willingly hangs out around the city for the ‘air’. He’s a shit liar. Nico should be offended.)

It’s nearing curfew by the time they melt back out from behind Thalia’s tree, extra shadows of early evening making the trip easier.

“Those fries are going to make a reappearance,” Will grimaces.

“Not if you don’t want me to kick you in the face.”

“You’d never.”

He would indeed never. But he would rather pass away than admit it, so.

“C’mon, dot face. It’s getting late. You have a cabin to run.”

“Oh, Nico,” Will says in a breathy falsetto, “are you walkin’ me to my cabin? How chivalrous!”

“Nevermind.”

“No no no no no I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Nico allows himself to be tugged, weak to Will’s giggles. “Walk me to my cabin. C’mon.”

Sighing, as if he’s so put out, Nico does. Some point in between Thalia’s tree and the amphitheater, Will’s hand slides down from around his wrist to tangled in between his fingers. Coincidentally, his mouth goes dry.

As they approach the Apollo cabin, Will slows to a stop.

“Hey.” He squeezes their fingers together, smile soft in the dying light of dawn. “I had fun today. Thank you for coming with me.”

Nico swallows. One day, those words will be said in a different context, if everything goes well for Nico, and he’s not sure how the hell he’s going to handle it without bursting into flame. “Yeah, well. Anything to scam a restaurant.”

“Right.”

They walk the last few steps to the cabin, rickety porch steps creaking under their feet as they approach the open door. Will doesn’t let go.

“Hey, Nico.”

“…Yeah?”

Quick as a flash, Will leans in and presses the softest of kisses to his mouth. The noise Nico makes is practically punched out of his lungs, spine going rigid in surprise.

“You can pay for our next date, okay?”

He’s gone before Nico can respond, ducking into his cabin with a small smile and closing the door behind him. Nico stands there, like an idiot, for three solid minutes at the very least, distantly aware of the giggles coming through the open window.

His hand comes up, fingers brushing his bottom lip.

“The little fucker set me up.”

Valentine’s day scam. Please. The only scam today was the scam of Will’s sneaky asking.

Nico smiles.

“You’re a mess, Solace!” he shouts, knowing damn well Will is listening.

He’s right. “Goodnight, Nico!”

Shaking his head, Nico runs back to his cabin, entire body tingling and cheeks aching with his grin.

[creative-clawmarks]

Longass Vampire AU Loredump

I feel I should preface this with the most important fact of this AU: supernatural beings are not actually a part of this world.

What I mean by this is there is no secret society of vampires, there is no chapter in the medical books on lycanthropy, and ghost hunters still have not found conclusive evidence. As far as you or I or anyone else knows the cast of MH are the only things like them in existence.

Because the Operator did this to them.

It's a parasite, and its strategy is to make people into predators then mop up the trail of bodies they leave behind.

As for why their monstrosity takes the specific forms it does? The Watsonian Explanation is that we will never really know, such things are beyond people's understanding. The Doyalist Explanation is that I have taken the character's metaphorical roles and made them literal to give myself an excuse to draw sharp teeth.

With that out of the way, here's what these freaks are actually capable of:

Alex (Vampire):

Standard package of fast healing, unnatural speed, and unbeating heart. Probably immortal but I guess now we'll never know.

Drinks blood, of course. But I like my vamps fucked up so there's a good dose of gory cannibalism for flavor.

He won't combust in the sun or anything, but his skin is especially sensitive to heat and his eyes are especially sensitive to light.

Heightened hearing, he could hunt someone down with his eyes closed just by tracking their heartbeat.

Venomous, specifically paralytic toxins. Once he's bitten you there's no running away, you're basically screwed.

Fangs and claws are retractable. I also gave him a forked tongue because he's like a terrarium snake to me :)

"Once more I have seen the director go out in his lizard fashion."

He can purr. Because I know what the people want.

Tim (Werewolf):

Standard package of fast healing, unnatural strength, and canine features. Would rather not think about whether or not he's immortal.

Does not hunger for human flesh. If given the opportunity he might maul a deer tho.

Burned by the touch of silver. He also personally thinks wolfsbane is gross but that's unrelated.

When in human form he's mostly that, human. Sure his senses are sharper and he can grow out his teeth and claws a little bit but otherwise he's normal.

When in wolf form, on the other hand, he is DANGEROUS. I'm talking bite through steel tear you in half only thing that can stop him is a silver bullet dangerous.

The wolf form is analogous to Masky in this AU, as in he turns against his will whenever he's threatened or misses a dose and he won't remember much whenever he eventually turns back.

The only time he can change under his own power with his mind intact is during the full moon. He looks forward to it every month because without the threat of loosing control being a wolf is rad actually.

If you scratch him under the chin he goes boneless. Doesn't matter what form he's in.

Brian (Ghost):

Standard package of walk through walls, disappear, and fly. I don't think the term immortal applies to this situation tho...

You know the excuse that ghost don't just physically manifest cuz they don't have enough energy for it? Yeah he's so incandescently pissed that he's tangible more often than not.

Its actually kind of the opposite conundrum where he has to focus and calm down to actually use his ghostly abilities.

Salt circles will totally work on him, but good luck catching him first lol.

Even if you can't see him you can still sort of feel his presence, the room will get colder and the shadows will get deeper.

If you catch him on a bad day he can pull some Poltergeist TM level shenanigans.

Can't really communicate like he used to, his mind is too broken and detached from what it once was. That's why all the ToTheArk videos look like that.

If you were to put a spirit box in the room with him all you would hear coming out of it is his death screams on loop.

Jay (Mortal):

He's just a guy lol, poor bastard doesn't stand a chance.

Why yes, he has read Twilight. Why do you ask?

[dufferpuffer]

The idea that Remus Lupin was trying to be CIVIL with Severus... MORE than Snape was trying to be civil with HIM... That... is hilarious.

Remus had one goal in POA: Look Good. Look good to Dumbledore - which meant not sharing useful information he had about Sirius Black, and likely outright LIED about things when asked. (he was his friend - and nobody asked 'is there anything you know to help with the search?' not even a stressed McGonagall...?) Look good to the Students - which meant not only being the bestest, nicest teacher possible, but to help them squash their fears. Their problems. To fearlessly walk all over Snape. I don't know if there is a single thing Remus said to Snape that wasn't passive aggressive and demeaning. Yet Snape, Mr Insults, Mr Witty Comebacks, Mr Explosive Temper - never once clapped back. He was always polite, always saying things sweetly... through gritted teeth, sure - but through gritted teeth is very much not his style when someone disrespects him.

"Severus was only being nice/putting up with it because Dumbledore told him to!" Yeah. Severus is a good boy, making an expensive and difficult potion every month, personally coming to serve it like a House Elf (Master Remus is in the habit of missing doses) Putting up with Remus' blatant lies about the map - even allowing him to take it away to his own office - because he knew snatching it back without proof would probably be against his orders.

I would call that being EXTREMELY civil. I'd call Remus' actions 'using him like a tool'. A social stepping stone. Not a good colleague.

"Snape only outed Remus' Lycanthropy because he was sore about not getting a medal!" When did Severus EVER do ANYTHING for positive attention...? If he wanted that medal so badly he could have killed Sirius Black while he was unconscious. Claimed he saved Harry Potter, dispelled the dementors himself... It would have been revenge for Lily, too! But no, he carefully lifted him onto a stretcher and took him to get medical help, despite thinking him a murderer set for execution.

"I think it is clear that Mr. Lupin is unfit to teach, due not only to the nature of his illness - but his behaviour regarding it. Having to teach his classes every month alongside my own was exhausting, as was brewing the difficult Wolfsbane potion in my spare time and delivering it by hand to ensure it was consumed... as he has proven himself indisputably irresponsible. That is not to mention the recent facts that have come to light about Sirius Black - information he never thought to mention. Worst of all, it is due entirely to his own negligence that I was forced to use my own body to shield three students from becoming infected with his illness... or worse, mauled to death."

Honestly I think that is a pretty reasonable formal complaint. But he didn't get Remus fired. Remus, now outed as disabled, could have used his LEGENDARILY RARE position as a beloved teacher with the personal backing of Albus Dumbledore to fight for better rights for and remain teaching. Albus did not fire him. The Ministry nor the Board of Governors had called for his firing. Remus quit of his own accord the MOMENT he got bad press.

It will be a long time before another werewolf will have the chance to advocate for their rights from such a supported position.

"I only missed my dose due to the emergency of realizing Sirius Black was on school grounds! I had a clean record the rest of the year, curled safely in my office - and despite it being my first year as a teacher taught my classes admirably. Any of the students and staff will vouch for my care towards my students and my subject... ...And the only one I harmed as a Werewolf was Black himself."

Remus would have SUCH an easy time explaining his negligence - and if he was willing to also use Sirius as a tool, as a social stepping stone, he could spin himself as a sort of hero, too. It would be a battle for sure. One he might lose, ultimately, and be forced to step down as a teacher. But he had the chance to be a POSITIVE face for those suffering Lycanthropy - in a world where most of them feel the only option is to turn to Fenrir Greyback. A fact he knows well, as a spy. The werewolf that was a teacher. That was PROUD of being a teacher. Whose students loved him. Who fought a murderer!

But he ran. Before anything. He would rather save face than fight for what he believes in - just like when he stayed quiet and didn't support Sirius in an argument, despite agreeing with him.

[am-i-interrupting]

Hello! I really love your work, I just HAD to pop in your inbox after seeing your fics about Alastor's daughter.

What if Alastor's daughter is an angel that is scared of demons.

Like, when they were alive, Alastor's daughter used to be such a sweet child and I mean SWEET. Would never hurt a soul. Though she got killed at a young age because of envious children her age, left her in the forest to scare her but she got mauled by wolves and died.

Before she died, she was aware of Alastor's killings but she wouldn't speak up because she was too scared. IMAGINE ALASTOR BEING SUCH A LOVING DAD BUT ALL SHE CAN THINK ABOUT IS WHAT IF SHES NEXT IF SHE FUCKS UP AROUND HIM.

And he's not aware that she thinks that way. So when Sera sent her to investigate the Hazbin Hotel (to see if Charlie's theory is really true) she sees Alastor and gets tense even though he's so sincere around her.

How would everything gooo omg I'd like to see how creative you'll get!!

.

You never hurt a soul and that’s what helped you get into heaven.

You loved your father. You did but you were also terrified of him.

He was a serial killer, a murderer, and even if he tucked you into bed at night and made the best food, you could still be next.

You felt guilty the day he died because while you were heartbroken you were also so relieved.

You confessed to the police his sins as soon as they came to the house to break the news of his death.

You were crying, choking on tears as you told them everything.

It was the best and worst day of your life.

Despite that, life remained difficult for you.

People were cruel and mean and heartless and you died before the age of twenty.

You made it to Heaven.

You were a top winner, one revered for their kindness.

That’s how you got asked by Sera to go to Hell to observe Charlie’s idea first hand. Her being too untrusting of the angels to not start killing and “sanitizing” Hell as soon as they got there.

You were excited. You met Charlie while she was in Heaven.

She was somewhat of a kindred spirit. You got on with her well.

(Alastor actually does reminisce over you and his mother both in Hell. The lyric “You’re like a child that I wish that I had” in Hells Greatest Dad would have been changed to “You’re like the child which I used to have.”)

You went through the portal with her and Vaggie.

Both girls seemed conflicted, something must have happened during the meeting they had with the angels but Charlie quickly put on a smile and started explaining what everything was.

When you get to the Hotel, you seem him. You never thought you’d see your father again. You weren’t sure you wanted to even if you missed him. You immediately froze.

His brows furrowed as he looked at you before his smile widened, sharp teeth replacing the human ones you once knew but they were still coffee-stained.

“Is that my darling angel?” he asked as he walked towards you. “My dear, look how you’ve grown.”

He used the tips of his fingers to angle your face towards him and you couldn’t pull away. You were frozen in place, looking at him with wide eyes.

“You two know each other?” Charlie asked.

“Why yes, we do indeed,” Alastor said. “You recall I mentioned having a child.”

“Oh my god! Oops, sorry. Don’t use the lord’s name in vain and all. But this is so great!”

“Yeah,” you said meekly. “So great.”

Alastor would notice something wrong. He remembers your behaviors well. He’d try to make you comfortable while unknowingly pressing your buttons more.

Everyone else also notices something wrong, except Niffty.

Sir Pentious and Charlie likely think you’re just anxious and try to make you feel as comfortable and welcomed as possible.

Vaggie assumes it’s because you’re in Hell.

Husk and Angel realize it’s because Alastor’s there.

The two team up to make sure you’re never ever left completely alone.

They even manage to pull you away for a bit.

Husk offers some good advice and true silence not filled with the background of a radio crackling.

Angel let’s you bury your head in his fluff.

[littlemessyjessi]

"Herbal or Verbal?": A Holiday Marauders HP Imagine: Sirius Black

A Holiday HP Marauders Imagine 

Sirius Black x Plus Size Reader, PS Reader, Reader

Use of Y/N because frankly if I tarry too long on flushing out an oc… it will never get written and we’ll all be lucky if I post it by NEXT holiday season.  

Fem identifying reader because I love women and I just want to.   

Warnings:  Mentions of Sirius’ terrible mother? Mentions of the first wizarding war with Moldysnort and all of the trauma kind of attached to that. 

Also, if you’re under 18, get out.  I love you.  I wish you well.  A very happy holiday season to you! But get out.  Auntie says this with as much love as possible but hit the bricks, kid.  Come back when you’re older. Love you but git.  Stay warm, drink some water, eat well and be kind to yourselves though.   Just because you ain’t allowed here doesn’t mean I don’t wish you the best.  You’re worthy of love but I must insist.   Scooch on out.   

Now, then. Let’s begin. 

………..

………..

………...

Thick puffs of smoke billowed out into the cold December air. 

A sigh with a mixture of irritation and anxiety followed it. 

Sirius Black sat on the steps of his girlfriend’s flat. 

A girlfriend that was nowhere to be found at the moment despite the fact that today she’d invited their whole friend group to a holiday get-together at her own home. 

His best mate, James, was also nowhere to be found… and HIS girlfriend hadn’t a clue of his whereabouts either. 

Sirius was not often irrationally jealous when it came to Y/N and today was no different. 

However, the both of them gone at the same time had him on edge for a myriad of reasons. 

The thought of his love and his best mate having been attacked… or worse… had his blood boiling and running cold simultaneously.   

His stomach was a complete mess of knots.  

Business with the Order hadn’t been good as of late with two recent deaths and death eater numbers growing every day. 

He’d ran into his oh so delightfully awful cousin, Bellatrix, just yesterday. 

Always a pleasant experience, that one. 

Nearly tried to kill him and Sirius would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about kicking her off a cliff on more than one occasion. 

Tensions had been high between him and Remus. 

The latter of which was currently sat inside the flat with dark circles under his eyes, a few new scars and barely concealed irritation as he waited ‘patiently’ on this chocolate tea that Y/N promised him. 

Lily, despite acting as if it were nothing, kept flitting back and forth in front of the fireplace as if the two of them would suddenly appear by floo powder when everyone knew damn well that Y/N sooner die than get soot in her hair before a party. 

She always apparated and floo powder was a last resort. 

“I can never get it out of my hair, Siri. Even with magic. And that must be awful for your lungs.  I can’t be bothered.” she’d told him once before when he’d suggested it as a opposed to a half a dozen trips by apparating to get the shopping home. 

To which she shamed him by shrinking the groceries, giving him an unimpressed look and apparating away in her sassy little fashion… leaving Sirius standing in the alleyway puzzled … and even more in love than usual. 

He rubbed his hands together to try and get the feeling back into them before heading inside only to be immediately mauled by Lily. 

“Have you seen them? Are they here yet?” she bombarded. 

“No, Evans.  No sign yet.” he said, swallowing the lump in his throat. 

The two of them shared a look. 

This didn’t feel good. 

At all. 

“Where’s Peter?” he asked, aggravated at having not seen their friend today when he knew that Y/N had most definitely invited him. 

“Said something came up.” Remus supplied from the couch, his fingers digging into his temples at the headache coming on.   “I don’t remember all the details but he said to pass on his apologies to Y/N and that he’d come by when he could.” 

Sirius ground his teeth together but chose to let it go. 

He knew expressing it would only cause a disagreement between him and Remus and given that two of their group were literally nowhere to be found… now did not seem like the time. 

He had all but decided on putting out an alert with the order when the door opened and the familiar scent of gingerbread that seemed to haunt him this entire month hit him. 

He whirled around and snatched the person into his arms, burying his face in their neck. 

“Siri, love, what’s happened?” 

He squeezed the soft, cushiony woman into his frame even tighter and refused to answer but the slight shivering that coursed through him told her he was either cold or scared. 

Given the month, it could’ve been both but she figured on the latter. 

“Sirius, sweetheart, it’s alright.  I’m sorry to have worried you.” she said finally pulling him away enough to look into those stormy eyes of his. 

“Have you seen James?” Lily butted in. 

“Lovely to see you too, best friend.” Y/N teased the ginger who gave her a pleading look.  “Yes, he’s outside.  He’s been with me the whole time and he’s fine.  Although, he is standing outside my home as a deer with his tongue stuck to the fence so you might want to take some warm water with you when you go.” 

“I’m ripping him off of it without any help.” she growled. 

“I thought you were fond of his tongue, Lillian.” Y/N teased. 

“Y/N!” Lily gasped. 

“I’m sorry, Lils.  The opportunity presented itself and it was just too good to pass up.  Had to.” Y/N admitted. 

Sirius couldn’t help but smile. 

Behind those chubby cheeks and soft, sweet face was the mind of a filthy little beast and he adored her for it. 

Merlin’s beard, he was so happy that they were both safe and sound but in recent times every second of worry was justified. 

She leaned up to peck Sirius’ lips once before looking around the flat.  

“Sorry it hasn’t been decorated.  I thought we’d be back long before now but your mother was apparently very lively today.” she said pulling out her wand and with a flick the whole flat had been transformed from it’s usual decor to a magical Christmas wonderland. 

A tower of tiny cakes emerged from nowhere where a giant poinsettia set atop it like a red star. 

The table became decorated with a glittering tablecloth, tea cups adorned with a holly print and shining baubles here and there.

Sirius smiled in awe despite the rage boiling inside him at that moment. 

Y/N was everything he wanted in a person and she could turn even the simplest things into magical moments. 

Which was saying something as everyone in that flat literally went to Hogwarts but he'd never got to experience the nostalgic things of childhood holidays.  

When he met her… he realized that Y/N celebrated everything and she gave it to others as well. 

Life was an experience with her and she made every moment count. 

It was a huge driving force of what drew him to her and something that made him fall in love with her more and more every day they spent together. 

“Alright, now that that’s settled.” she said. “I need to change my outfit quickly and then we’ll be ready.  Well, once James has been detached from the fence. I did tell him not to do that but then again, I also told him not to change into a deer this time a year because it would attract children who wanted to see Santa’s reindeer… but he never listens to me anyway which is another reason as to why we're late because a tiny little ginger girl wanted to ride Santa's reindeer and because she reminded him of Lily... he couldn't very well say no. So his dumb ass did three rounds and we're both standing there freezing our bits off. And he comes back and immediately decides to lick an icicle. I honestly don’t know why I’m even surprised anymore.” 

“Y/N.” Remus spoke from the couch cutting Sirius off before he could explode. 

“Yes, dear?” she said, turning towards him for the first time that day.  

“This tea you’ve been telling me about…” he spoke tiredly. 

“Herbal or Verbal?” she asked. 

“What?” 

“Herbal or Verbal?” she said again.  “Are we talking actual hot tea or hot gossip?  I have both today.” 

Remus simply blinked at her for a moment but smiled eventually. 

The two of them had weekly ‘tea time’ during school in which they would discuss a book, have some tea… and also spill it. 

Y/N knew EVERYONE and Remus was quiet so no one suspected him. 

The two little twerps sat there under the ruse of discussing a book and gossiped for a solid hour. 

Sirius was convinced she was cheating on for a solid week until Remus told him to shove off and that he would never date someone who he viewed as a sister.  

It would be like dating Lily. 

Lily, who happened to have been standing behind him at that time, was caught between admiring him and being completely insulted. 

The tea sessions continued through school but after graduation they had been few and far between since then. 

Remus chuckled, “Both I supposed but you did tell me about a chocolate tea when we spoke last week.” 

“I haven’t forgotten, dear.” she smiled. “I think I’ve got quite a few treats that you’ll like today actually.” 

“If you two are done flirting.” Sirius said impatiently rolling his eyes. 

“Sirius, it’s not like that-” Remus began. 

“Oh, he’s not serious, Remus. Well, he is but- oh for Merlin’s sake. I am not doing this today.” she huffed. “He’s not actually jealous.  That little vein in his neck isn’t popping out yet.” 

Remus lifted an eyebrow at her and Sirius only smirked despite himself. 

“What is it, my love?” she asked, coming to stand in front of him before speaking to Remus over her shoulder.  “Remus, feel free to begin.  We’ll all join in a moment but you’re absolutely no fun when you’re peckish.” 

“Gee thanks.” he responded. 

“You’re welcome.” she sassed back before turning her gaze back to Sirius.  “Please continue, love.” 

“Why did you go to my parents’ house? Do you realize how dangerous that is in general, much less alone?” he pressed. 

“I didn’t go alone, my love.  James was with me the entire time.” she said. 

“Why go anyway?” he pressed. “It was crawling with the wrong sort even before all this started.  Y/N, I don’t like that. If something had- if- if she- if they- if you-” 

“Sirius, darling, I’m so sorry to have frightened you.” she said, her chubby fingers coming up to curl around his jaw. 

Sirius loved her hands. 

Always had. 

He’d always loved how soft they looked. 

He loved the roundness of her fingers and the smoothness on the back of her hands. 

“I promise that we were perfectly safe.   We were in disguise. Polyjuice potion in fact on James’ end.  We never separated.  We changed our voices as well.” she soothed him. 

“Why did you even go?” he pressed. 

“Well, it was one part justice for my beloved/justice for James as you and he are as brothers.” she explained. “And the other part was that it was a mission for the Order.  I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, love, but it was top secret. I couldn’t risk you stopping me.  There has been news that that house is being used as a meeting place for the death eaters.  You know the charms I’ve been working on lately?” 

At his nod she continued, “Well, Dumbledore asked me to place one at Grimmauld Place.  He figured with my metamorphamagus abilities, I could likely go a little more unnoticed.  He had Kingsley brew up some polyjuice potion for James and we went disguised as a couple of those children that play in the street there.” 

Sirius still didn’t like it but he also understood how Order missions went. 

“One hell of a well placed game of ding dong ditch, a snowball right in old Walburga’s face and your lady had the house bugged.  We were gone before they even knew what hit them!” came James’ voice as he and Lily finally entered the flat.  “It was brilliant, Pads, really.  She was brilliant.  I reckon old stuffy is still standing there picking snow out of her eyelashes as we speak.” 

Sirius laughed in spite of himself. 

He hated the idea of either of them going to his childhood home for more than one reason but the image of his best mate and the love of his life playing ding dong ditch and bashing his mother in the face with a snowball was just too hilarious for even him to ignore. 

“Please tell me that one of you looked at her and can share that memory.” he finally said once he’d stopped laughing. 

“Oh, mate.  I got you.” James laughed. 

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Yes, he does because whilst I was trying to safely get us back someone insisted on getting a good look for, and a quote, 

‘Sirius has to see this.  He’ll shit himself.’ So you’re welcome to get the pensieve out and piss yourselves with laughter.  Just don’t do it on my carpet.  I’ll be back in a moment.  I have an outfit picked out specifically for today and it shall not be going to waste.” 

Sirius watched her go before he and James rushed to retrieve the pensieve. 

The two of them were rolling on the floor laughing when she returned in her holiday best, complete with a rather intricately braided mass of red and green hair in a crown atop her head adorned with holly.  

Being a metamorphamagus did have it’s perks sometimes. 

“Alright, children.  It’s time for tea.” she said, taking her seat. 

“Herbal or Verbal?” Remus smirked at her, life and color back in his face a bit more since he’d already consumed two cups of this chocolate tea and about four chocolate biscuits. 

Y/N smiled at him, “Herbal this time, love.  Mind tapping that cranberry vanilla tea for me?” 

“Ew, stop flirting with each other.” Lily teased. 

“Oh, Lillian.” Y/N said, a smirk of her own crawling onto her mouth. “I think we both know that’s not how I flirt or shall we relive the Christmas of ‘76?” 

“What happened the Christmas of ‘76?” James asked curiously, far too aware of how quickly his girlfriend’s face was beginning to match her hair. 

“Lillian’s bisexual awakening.” Y/N said only for Lily to throw a biscuit at her. 

She caught it and simply dunked it in her tea. 

“What is this about then?” Sirius asked curiously. 

“Before we got together, love.  But only just.  We were together by the following Valentine’s Day.   Lily, a bit too drunk on the firewhiskey, accused me of being too soft and sweet for the likes of you.” she said, chuckling as Lily sunk in her chair. 

Sirius nearly choked on his tea because he knew all too well that of the two of them… Y/N had a far dirtier mind than he did. 

“And you call yourself her best friend, Evans.  You don’t know her at all.” he laughed. 

“Oh trust me, I got to know a whole new side of her that night.  I finally understood why she gets whatever she wants.  She’s fucking adorable usually but when she turns on the charm… merlin, woman.  That should be illegal.” Lily said, cheeks still aflame. 

“It only works because it’s used few and far between.  It’s more shock value than anything.” Y/N said with a shake of her head. 

“Explain Sirius then.” Remus piped up. 

“He loves me.  That’s different.” she shrugged. 

“I do, love but, er, I don’t know that it’s love that causes the rerouting of every single drop of blood in my body when you give me those eyes of yours.”  Sirius admitted with a nervous laugh. 

“Yes!” Lily chimed in.  “It’s unsettling because she’s normally so cute and then, bam! She just turns it on-.” 

“And turns you on?” Remus teased. 

“I think the two of you are evil twins separated at birth.” Lily said.  “Evil, the pair of you.” 

Remus and Y/N smiled coyly at one another, thoroughly enjoying both the verbal and herbal tea that had been served today. 

And all the rest wanted to smack the pair of them. 

“Happy Christmas, Remus.” 

“Happy Christmas, Y/N.” 

“Oi! Where’s my Happy Christmas? You are my girlfriend!” Sirius interrupted, vein popping out in his neck as a smidge of true jealousy flared. 

Y/N reached out to card a hand through his hair, “I had planned on giving you part of your Christmas later on when we we didn’t have an audience, my love, but I suppose it is the holidays.  Tis the season, I guess, if you have suddenly decided you would like to try voyeurism.” 

“Oi!” he said, panicking at the idea. 

And Y/N sat there, giggling into her tea, happy to have effectively flustered the lot of them. 

Even Remus who was less flustered and more shocked at the sheer cheek of her. 

A very Happy Christmas indeed.

……

……

……

….. 

Hello, loves!  I hope you enjoy this holiday content! 

Hope ya’ll are having a great day! 

Love you. 

— 

Permanent Taglist:

@thickemadame

@toomanyfictionalboyfriends

@blackirisposts

@alisoncdariel

@therealmrshale

@thegreatirene

@angelus320

@thedarkwinterrose

@m-rae23

@shycupcakealissa

@minshookie29

@kelly-fushiguro345

@vj21

@btsiguess-kpop

@abc-abc1234-a

@pinkcherrybombs

@speedyhandsbonkpalace

@sunnysidesblog

@milkshakelol

@poopypantsmcgee666-blog

@lyn-g

@glassesandthunderthighs

@tacobacoyeet

@owenniasstars

@adventuresofnight

@queenlexusloverofbts

@leah-halliwell92

@amethyst09

@kalliravenne

@sullybot

@disneymarina

@mother2monsters

@maxis140403

@fortunecookiesworld

@lathalea

@skyys-universe

K, Love you, Bye!

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Can I has a Joel x reader request where he ends up picking her up along the way(saving her) and she just kinda sticks around. She's good at medicinal herbs and foraging. speaking of WHY ARE THERE NO CHARACTERS LIKE THAT IN ANY POST APOCALYPTIC SHOW/MOVIE like that should be a course. Idk I want it to be fluffy like a clicker or an infected is running at her and he gets rid of it

I love this idea for sure, I hope you like it :)

"You're a fucking botanist?"

That was the first thing Joel asked me when he found me stranded in the country side of Wyoming, a young girl attached to his side when he looked down at the botany book in my hands and the array of flowers and twigs around me.

He almost shot me. Of course he didn't tell me that till weeks later, when we were finally settled in with his brother and the rest of civilization back in Jackson. He claimed that he thought I was infected by how much I was shaking but my claim was that it was nearly negative five degrees and my anxiety was skyrocketing as soon as I heard him step on a twig twenty feet away from me.

He saved me from freezing to death and getting mauled by a clicker and insulted my career in the same five minutes.

"Well botany was useless until the end of the world, huh?"

"I like to think that we were always useful, just not in obvious ways."

"Are you alone out here?" The girl asks with a kinder smile than the expression the mystery man is giving me, his eyes drooping low to look over me and my backpack to my left. She steps past the frightening man to step between the two of us, giving the man a hesitant but kind look before turning back to me.

"Yeah, just little old me." I shiver, teeth chattering as another blow of wind sweeps right through my bones, chilling me to my core. She frowns and pulls her jacket tightly around her chin before reaching into her pack to pull out a small blanket, tossing it onto the ground in front of me.

"Joel, can we keep her?" She asks as I scramble to wrap the blanket around my shoulders, already feeling ten times better than I did before.

"I'm not a stray dog." I giggle, looking at her with a teasing look and she nods bashfully, understanding how she came off.

"You practically look like it." The man mutters and I frown, heart panging as I lean down to smell my shirt and I have to be honest, it does resemble that of a wet dog.

"Ouch, when was the last time you showered, old man." I tease but his stoic expression sticks as his shoulders lift in a brief shrug.

"A week ago." He adds matter-of-factly and I feel envy swim in my belly at the thought of a snarky, unkind man like him deserving a hot shower, a shower that I would kill someone for.

"You guys are mean." I huff before looking to the girl with a smirk. "I like you." Before anyone else can say a word, Joel's eyes flicker past me and to the tree line and I feel my stomach drop at the frightened look on his face.

"Joel-" The young girl starts but Joel holds a hand up to her, taking a step towards me and I let him push me behind him and into the arms of the girl with a huff.

"I got it, Ellie." He mutters, holding the knife carefully in the air as the clicker approaches us and I look away in time as I hear the sound of the knife sheath itself into the skull of the monster in a split second. I take a breath, trying to regain my balance as I wobble a bit.

Between being scared by them and then the clicker, my heart needs a full restart.

"Jesus." Ellie whispers, head whipping in my direction as my butt hits the snow, head lolling between my knees while I try to catch my breath. Joel is in front of me in a moments notice with my backpack at his side, his hand carefully reaching out to rest on my shoulder, catching my attention.

"You okay?"

"She should come with us." Ellie whispers to him and he nods, reaching up to rub at his jaw as I feel my head start to spin, nausea bubbling in my throat.

"Yeah, she should." He whispers, pressing the back of his hand to my forehead before clicking his tongue, looking to the kid. "C'mon kid. Show her the ropes."

Ellie's laugh snaps me out of my thoughts, the fond smile on my lips returning to a normal thin line and I feel eyes on me as my head turns. Ellie and Joel are looking at me, forks in the air as they share a careful look and a laugh.

"What're you thinking about?" Joel asks with a curious, calm smile, a completely different expression than what he gave off when we first met. He's no longer stern and guarded around me, instead softening a bit and he's finally allowed himself to laugh around me.

"When we met." I shrug, nudging him with my elbow as I take a loud slurp of my soup, but the mellow tone is torn to shreds by Ellie's crude laugh, her spoon slapping down on the table while she looks between the two of us.

"You mean when you guys fell madly in love?" I feel my cheeks warm at her observation, an honest one at that, and I feel the butterflies return to my stomach as I sneak a glance at Joel who's blushing as red as a fire truck.

"Shut it, Ellie." He mutters and her eyes roll, hands raising in surrender.

"Oh I'm sorry for calling out the elephant in the room."

[honeybeefae]

can i request a newly mated highlord!rhys x highlady!reader fic with them going to the illyrian camps bc they have business to take care of, they still don’t like rhysand bc of his fae side and while walking through the camps she hears some illyrians insult him. Since they’re newly-mated reader can’t stop herself from destroying them. PROTECTIVE READER😍😍😍

um yes 100% this is AWESOME.

Touched Nerves (Rhysand x Reader)

The sound of men grunting and rain pouring was the only greeting you got as you strolled through the camps with your mate, the High Lord of the Night Court.

Now that you were an official High Lady you saw it as your duty to go along to these meetings with Rhys even if he insisted you stayed home. He had been nervous the week leading up, knowing how brute Illyrian men were and how new the bond still was.

Rhysand had told you he was worried that he would end up slitting someone's throat if they even dared to look in your direction but no one could have predicted you'd be the one who was hot-tempered.

"There's the High Lord," A sarcastic male voice chortled as you passed them by, your mate more focused on his conversation with the generals than whatever anyone was saying. You, however, were all ears. "Walking with his newest lay. Did you hear he made her High Lady?

"It's cause Rhysand is too much of a bitch to rule himself." Another male snarked, missing your glare as you glanced at them. "I'm sure she rules over him in the court and bedroom. He always was one to hide behind his mother's skirts."

Your fists clenched in anger as you tried to control yourself. You were always protective of Rhysand's reputation, hating that people didn't know the real him, but with this mating bond, it seemed that that protectiveness had grown tenfold.

"His mother, his sister, and now his mate too. He ain't no real Illyrian." The first one sneered. "He's nothing but a trait-"

You had the Illyrian male in your grasp before he could finish his sentence, your nails digging into the skin of his neck as he desperately clawed at your hand.

"He is everything you wish you were. He's got more Illyrian fight and blood in him than you have in your toes." You emphasized as you dug your heel down into his foot, a sadistic side of you enjoying the way he whimpered and wriggled. "You'll be good to remember that next time you come face to face with someone who could easily wipe you off the face of the Earth, someone like me."

Your nails dug further into his neck and the animalistic side of you wanted to rip out his larynx for even daring to speak ill of your mate. The two men beside him watched on in horror and awe as you easily lifted the mail into the air.

"I suggest you find your dignity that is now in the dirt and apologize to your High Lord, to your leader." You said before throwing him backward, straightening your spine and brushing off your clothes. "Now."

A rush of cool night air blew next to you and you immediately relaxed when you looked to see Rhys smirking, his eyes dancing with amusement as he took in the scene before him.

"Well," Rhys waved a hand to the man, cocking an eyebrow. "I'm waiting."

"I'm-" The man began, red blood marred all over his neck as if he had just been mauled. "I'm sorry, High Lord." He said through gritted teeth, his stare colder than death as he turned and took off into the sky.

The other men followed but not before sending nasty looks your way, one of them mumbling something under their breath. You took a step forward as if to follow but stopped when you felt Rhys's hand wrap around your wrist.

"Shhh, darling. It's alright. Let them go." He murmured into your ear, pulling you close to wrap his arms around your midriff. "You protected my honor courageously. I would hate for you to stew in this."

"But they were rude to you, rude to me as if you had done nothing for them." You argued, turning to face him with a pouted lip. "I just wanted to protect your name. I don't like it when other people speak of you like they know you. Like they know what you've been through."

"I care what no one thinks but you." He assured, tilting your head up so that he could gaze adoringly into your eyes. "You are all I care about, darling. No one else."

You blushed and he smiled, kissing your forehead softly before turning to start back down the path. He held his hand in yours, keeping your body close, as he snickered and said, "Though it was nice to see you kick his ass."

[homunculus-argument]

To prove his bravery, a great hunter goes to a witch to ask for the exact way he shall die. The witch tries to explain that this is not how divination works, but tries anyway. She does the ritual, and three distinct marks emerge in the signs she interprets - "vengeance", "the influence of dead among the living", and "horns". All slanted in a way that indicates a lack of hesitation before an act, and a lack of remorse after the deed is done. She tells him the signs, and is just about to tell him she has no clue how to make sense of them, when he interrupts her to ask her:

"So I will be killed by a beast with horns, or some undead monster? I will gladly die in a quest to avenge my son or my brother, but I would rather not have them die at all." The witch has no answer to that.

The hunter leaves, his mind clouded with worry for the remorseless beast that shall maul someone he knows and loves. But he no longer has fear for himself - if his is a noble death, then he does not hesitate to take it, and if the undead beast is what shall kill him, then he is safe from all other perils. He goes on to hunt with his brother, and eventually his son once he has grown, but though they don't hesitate to go after boars, wolves or bears, they never pursue anything with horns. Just to be safe.

Fifteen years pass before another visitor comes to the witch's hut - it is the old huntsman's son. He tells the witch that she was wrong, that his father spent his whole life dreading this strange prophesy and ultimately it never came to pass. It wasn't a remorseless beast or undead vengeance that killed him, the man died of a fever. A perfectly common, ordinary fever.

"What caused the fever?" The witch asks.

"An infected tooth. Something got stuck in his teeth and the rot spread", the son answers, in confusion.

"What was it that got stuck in his teeth?" The witch asks.

"A strip of goat meat."

[estherdedlock]

There’s a delicious theory going around that the Greek class wasn’t responsible for Harry McRee’s death...which of course, would render everything that happened afterwards all the more dreadful. I’ve been turning this over in my head and I’ve cooked up two different scenarios.

First, let’s recall what Henry remembers:

I heard something behind me, or someone, and I wheeled around...and swung at whatever it was---a large, indistinct, yellow thing---with my closed fist...I felt a terrible pain in my knuckles and then, almost instantly, something knocked the breath right out of me. It was dark, you understand; I couldn’t really see. I swung out again with my right, hard as I could and with all my weight behind it, and this time I heard a loud crack and a scream...I looked down at my hand and saw it was covered with blood, and worse than blood. Then Charles stepped forward and saw that it was a man. He was dead...He had on a yellow plaid shirt...and his neck was broken, and, unpleasant to say, his brains were all over his face.

Henry goes on to recount that Charles and Francis all remember different things, and Camilla seemingly has no memory of what happened at all, although her hair is drenched in blood.

Scenario 1: McRee Was Killed by Someone Else We’re told (via the Hampden Examiner) that McRee had “several  enemies” among the local poultry farmers, so it’s possible he may have been attacked by one of them. Maybe McRee survived the assault but was stumbling around his property, mortally wounded, when he had the misfortune to run into the Greek class and they inadvertently finished him off. The Examiner described McRee’s body as badly “mutilated,” so whatever the Greek class did to him would have covered up the real murder. Regardless, the Greek kids would still have been responsible for McRee’s death. If you run into someone who’s been the victim of a brutal crime, your responsibility is to help them, not finish beating them to death. All the same, it’s fascinating to speculate that McRee’s death was part of a whole different cycle of violence that had nothing to do with Henry et al, but in which fate ensnared them and triggered a whole new, pre-ordained cycle of violence. Or, to quote Aeschylus in the Oresteia: “Where will this frenzy of evil end?”

Scenario 2: McRee Was Killed by Something Else The group claims to recall the presence of a fifth person that night, but no one can say who it was. What if it wasn’t a  person, but a large wild animal, specifically, a mountain lion...a catamount? An animal that big could very well feel like another person in the dark, especially to a bunch of kids who were out of their minds. Supporting this theory is the very deep bite that Charles suffers that night, which is referred to several times with awe by the rest of the group. “Four inches around and the teeth marks just gouged in,” says Francis. “Looks like that deer took a plug out of your arm,” says Bunny. Would a wildcat take a chunk out of someone without killing them? Possibly. Might the same wildcat get frightened away by something, but then come across another human later and attack them? Perhaps a poultry farmer out on his property for a midnight stroll?

Henry says he saw a “large, indistinct yellow thing,” and then “something knocked the breath right out of me.” We jump to the conclusion the “yellow thing” must have been McRee’s flannel shirt, because Henry tells us that’s what McRee was wearing. But a large, tawny mountain lion might also look yellow in the moonlight. Henry never says that he felt a person hit him. The “something” that “knocked the breath” out of Henry could very well have been the animal taking off into the woods...after mauling McRee to death.

In this scenario, McRee would have already been dead when Henry stumbled into the scene. The “loud crack and a scream” that Henry heard could have been anything -- maybe Henry actually punched the lion and drove it off. What follows next, though, is pretty indisputable: The kids set about mutilating McCree’s body. There’s a vast difference between desecrating a corpse and murdering someone, but unfortunately, it hardly matters to the outcome. Tearing into McRee’s body would have destroyed evidence of a wild animal attack, leaving the group as the apparent killers. Without any clear memory of what really happened that night, the kids believe themselves guilty, so what they do to Bunny is inevitable...but all the more tragic if they never actually killed McCree themselves.

A seemingly unimportant incident occurs near the end of the book:

We were rounding a corner. Suddenly, in the wash of the headlights, a large animal loomed in my path. I hit the brakes hard. For half a moment I found myself looking through the windshield at a pair of glowing eyes. Then, in a flash, it bounded away.   We sat for a moment, shaken, at full stop.   “What was that?” said Francis.   “I don’t know. A deer maybe.”   “That wasn’t a deer.”   “Then a dog.”   “It looked like some kind of a cat to me.”   Actually, that was what it had looked like to me too. “But it was too big,” I said.   “Maybe it was a cougar or something.”   “They don’t have those around here.”   “They used to. They called them catamounts. Cat-o-the-Mountain. Like Catamount Street in town.”   The night breeze was chilly. A dog barked somewhere. There wasn’t much traffic on that road at night.   I put the car in gear.

So...what is this? A random bit of eerie atmospherics from Ms. Tartt? I don’t know. There seems to be very little in TSH that is random.

Perhaps she is, in fact, slyly pointing us in the direction of McCree’s real killer. Telling us, with hint after maddening hint, that even though the eventual outcome of that night in the woods would have been no different, fate is all the more cruel because the murder, which was a catalyst for everything that happened afterwards, was never even a murder at all.

[beanhardy]

Hold Me Tight and Tender

One shot : Peeta x reader

Angst😡 small bit of fluff ❤️

Peeta wakes up from a nightmare, but you’re here to keep him safe.

His lungs burn, legs ache and head throbs. The deep gash on Peeta’s forehead slowly gushing with blood, flowing down his brow and into his eyes blurring his vision. He’s severely out of breath and feels light headed. He knows he can’t stop because if he does it means certain death.

The mutt chasing behind him is getting closer by the second and the rocky terrain of the arena is not making running any easier for him. Peeta can feel the mutts teeth grab a hold of his shirt ripping the back. Peeta’s exhaustion is getting to him. He fights the aching pain in his muscles to keep going, the adrenaline and fear being the only thing keeping him going.

But it’s not enough, he’s not fast enough, strong enough to stay alive. Each time the mutt tries to bite at him he can feel and hear it get closer and closer. Ahead of Peeta is a cliff. A dead end. He’s not going to make it. Will he jump and fall to his death? Or stop and be mauled by the capitols mutts? He doesn’t have the luxury of time to decide so he jumps. At least he’ll be in less pain right? He won’t be ripped apart limb from limb like a lamb for slaughter.

Just as he jumps he hears a familiar voice shouting his name from afar, “PEETA WAKE UP PEETA!”.

Peeta is drenched in sweat and tears thrashing in his sleep. You wrestle his sleeping form to try and pin him down. He could hurt himself or even you. “PEETA WAKE UP PEETA!”. He shoots up from his lying position and screams at the top of his lungs “HELP ME PLEASE”. His sobbing figure shakes in fear still not filling realising it was just a really bad nightmare. You reach for him once more holding him in a vice grip. His head in your hand laying against your chest, your other hand wrapped around his back. “Peeta shhhhh, please my love you’re home, you’re safe, you’re not in the arena anymore”, you reassure him sternly. Peeta sobs in your arms, shaking like a leaf. The sound of his cries breaks your heart every time.

You wish you could take away his pain. It’s all you’ve ever wanted, but the best you can do right now is be there for him during his nightmares. His sobs start to quiet down and you revert to rocking him gently, stroking his drenched hair to try calm him down even more. You can tell his breathing is starting to regulate. You start singing a soft tune for him to fully calm down.

“Are you, are you, coming to the tree? Where they strung up a man, they say, who murdered three”

Your voice slowly trailed off as you finished the song. Peeta’s crying had stoped and his breathing was back to normal. You gave him a reassuring kiss to his sweaty forehead. You hear a hoarse “thank you” coming from the man in your arms, “I woke you up didn’t I? I’m sorry y/n ”. You let out a heartbroken chuckle in response. Your sweet boy just had a horrific nightmare and he’s worried about waking you up? Nobody’s deserves this man yet somehow he thinks you do. “Never apologise for having a nightmare Peeta”, you reply to him.

He looks up at you from under your chin, his head puffy and red from crying. Looking down at him you feel your heart break all over again. For the boy he used to be, unharmed by torture of the capitol. You give him another gentle kiss this time of his lips. It’s sweet but holds a lot of yearning at the same time. Yearning for comfort and safety. For your warmth. You hear Peeta’s broken voice say to you, “please keep singing, it makes me feel better”. You happily oblige, willing to do anything to make your man feel better. It’s the least he deserves.

“Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be. If we met at midnight in the hanging tree.”