#ignore the oc tag please let us dream

[needlepine]

Jaxtonpaw is my new favorite warriors character

Y’all hear some copies of Ivypool’s Heart shipped with a chunk of 30 pages missing? That’s bc they removed Jaxtonpaw 😔😔😔 Too worried he would be a fan favorite and overshadow Ivypool

#justiceforjaxtonpaw

[kquil]

DIVORCING ORION BLACK | CHAPTER TWO

02 : SHOPPING (1/2)

CHPT. SUM. : life isn't easy in the Black Family household, you need to get out, you also need a new wand. Sirius does too as well as a few other things; time to go shopping.

LENGTH : 5.8k

TAGS. : hurt/comfort ; tantrums ; fluff ; sirius needs a hug ; regulus needs a hug ; original walburga can eat shit ; orion can eat shit too ; reader being an amazing mother ; walburga deserves to get bullied ; floo powder travels ; diagon alley shopping time~ ; stupid wands ; arson ; goblin OC ; sirius being a sneaky baby ; regulus follows in his older brother's footsteps ; misbehaving things ; Ollivander cameo~ ; please excuse any grammar or spelling mistakes for now, this wasn't really proofread (╥﹏╥) i'll go back over things later on!

← PREV. | 01 : ARRIVAL | SERIES M.LIST

7th August 1971 

It didn’t take you long to uncover the upsetting affairs of the ever proud Black Family. 

There was nothing to be proud of. It sickened you to witness the blatant disdain Orion had for his own two sons, neglecting them by leaving for work early and returning only to lock himself up in his home office. The bastard even overlooked his sons when he was present at home on the weekends and the few words he spoke when addressing them dripped with cruelty and ignorance. The only positive thing you could take from his absence, however, is the fact that the boys didn’t have to tolerate his silent callousness for long periods of time. 

But that meant seeing the effects of Walburga’s despicable conditioning of the two boys, which was far worse. 

It was clear that Regulus wanted to be favoured and compiled to his mother’s whims, desperately seeking her approval. Whenever his small, pale hands reached out for you, no matter how miniscule, you accepted with open arms and a warm smile. His precious look of surprise, and shy happiness at your unexpected acceptance, never failed to make your heart shatter, even more so that his reaction never seemed to let up. 

Before every apology, before every small request, before every word he breathed in your direction, there was an evident hesitance, a slight fear in his motions that made him freeze up for a moment. It was a consistent action that you hoped, with time, would disappear for good. You love having Regulus for your son but you don’t want him to do things just because you said so. In your previous life and before your dreams were shattered, the one thing you looked forward to about having children was the development of their own personality, the becoming of their own individual person. That’s what you want for Regulus, and Sirius too. But you know that Regulus was the main son who was deprived of that pleasure in the original timeline so you wanted to give him that extra bit of care. It was your responsibility, now, to give him that happiness.   

Sirius was the same. He wanted approval too, you could see it so very clearly in his piercing grey eyes – it’s an innocence he shares with his younger brother. There’s a glimmer of hope in his grey pools, hidden behind the need to protect Regulus and the mix of anger and sadness fostered by the horrendous parents he had the ill-fate of having. You want to bring down those walls but you know it’ll take some time. Nevertheless, you clung onto the hope present in his eyes and used it to cultivate your firm resolution, like a garden to the foundation of a new life and a new future. It was needed, especially when Sirius lashed out, his fury, dangerously ablaze like a forest fire set on destroying everything in its wake. 

It was no secret that the original Walburga expected nothing but excellence from her only two sons, so it didn’t come as a surprise to you that she had hired private tutors for them leading up to their official education in Hogwarts. They were to study French, Etiquette, Literature, Cursive/Calligraphy, Maths and all of the wizarding basics. All taught by private tutors that delivered material like stale bread on a plate and leaving them with the terribly tedious assignments in the most ridiculous amounts. You understood why Sirius worked himself up to such a tantrum. However, he was not setting a good example for his younger brother, who clung onto the long flowing skirt of your black dress and pressed himself against your legs for comfort. 

Tenderly, you combed your fingers through Regulus’ neatly permed hair, lightly scratching at his scalp while the two of you waited for Sirius to lose energy and simmer down enough for you to finally get a word in. It only took a few minutes but Sirius was soon left heavily panting, his expulsion of rage gone but still evident in his harsh glare and aggressive stance.

 Silence took over the room as you continued to hold his gaze, determined to handle the situation calmly but firmly and without any interruptions – you hope to God that your amateur imperturbable charm worked on the door of the room; it was the weekend, meaning that Orion was at home and he wouldn’t take too kindly to his equally hateful wife being screamed at by his disobedient son.

“...it’s not fair…” Sirius grumbles under his breath, pouting defiantly as his small hands ball up into clenched fists by his sides. 

“I know it’s not fair, Sirius,”

“Then—!” Sirius cuts himself off when you raise a brow at him, your mouth pressed into a tight, thin line. 

Some part of you understands why Sirius would lash out so aggressively; he was practically drowning under the workload he was set by his individual tutors, drowning under the expectations the original Walburga had set on him and he didn’t know how to express his frustrations. Along the way, you’re sure he’s bottled up his emotions and tried to get on with things, evident by the littered chaos of papers at his feet, marked by his neat handwriting. Such beautiful handwriting for such a young and troubled boy. With his deadline fast approaching and his assignments piled up to his ears, Sirius lashed out in the violent and wrathful way he’s been exposed to since birth. You want to be soft and comply with his demands but you know that’ll foster bad habits in him. Conceding now will only teach him that it’s okay to become violent when he’s frustrated and that it’ll work to help him get what he wants. But that is a false reality. And you will not perpetuate the illusion for him.  

He’s your son now, he’s your responsibility and you’re going to teach him well. So you stand firm but composed. You’re setting an example. It isn’t until you sense the fear of what may happen slowly seeping into Sirius’ much smaller frame, that you step forward and take action. 

In your slow approach, Sirius flinches and snaps his eyes tightly shut. His clenched fists slowly come up to shield his chest as his shoulders tense despite the visible shiver that runs up his frame.

A small voice calls out behind you, “Mother–”

“Regulus, this is between me and your brother. Please don’t interfere,” Regulus bites his lip into silence but watches on with fearful eyes. He wants to step in and hold his brother close, the same way Sirius has done to help comfort him many times before but, no matter how strong his will, Regulus didn’t move. Why? Was it the fear or… was it something else?  

Once close enough, you kneel down and gently grasp Sirius’ small shoulders. You try not to wince when he falters from your touch and tries to withdraw but your grip keeps him securely in place. Inhaling deeply and slowly, you begin to speak in a stable voice and with strength. It’s best to start from the beginning. 

“Sirius…” you wait until he meets your eyes, hesitant and afraid but stubbornly brave, “what’s wrong?” he sends you a look of exasperation, you can read him easily ‘why are you asking him that when he’s been screaming at you about it?’, “I will not listen or engage in any conversation with you if you ever speak to me that way,” you set the boundary and pause to make sure he processes your words clearly before continuing, “I will only listen if you talk to me like a normal person, if you just scream at me like that then I can’t help you,” 

Sirius wants to scoff at your words; how could he possibly trust you to help him if you’ve never been worthy of his trust? But he glimpses the image of his worried, younger brother over your shoulder and bites down on his sharp tongue. Regulus has grown a small but reluctant trust for you ever since the day you fainted. It was naive of him but Sirius could never fault his younger brother for anything. He’s always been the one with the softer heart between them so it was natural for Regulus to be more trusting. Deep down, Sirius wants to have that same level of give within him too. 

But it was hard. It’s hard to trust…

…that didn’t mean he didn’t want to, however. One prolonged look at his brother was all he needed to have the courage to put that trust forward. 

“It’s unfair,” he repeats, clearly this time.

“What’s not fair?” you prompt, your features softening along with your tone as Sirius wills himself to continue. You haven’t lashed out at him yet, you haven’t even threatened to launch a curse at him, that was a good sign. 

“All this work…” he gestures to the scattered papers he had thrown to the floor in defiance. Now, he looks towards them in shame and quickly diverts his gaze from the mess. 

“I see,” you hum as he looks onto you with eyes of wonderment, unable to comprehend that you were taking in his complaint so graciously – he isn’t used to this type of gentleness but he likes it…  “I’m sorry you’re under so much pressure to do this much work,” Sirius holds his breath as hope builds up within him, its light is radiant but he tries to ignore it, “I’m sorry it’s been so hard for you–”

“––I tried to do well!” Sirius defends, his eyes desperately searching your own for some form of understanding. It was your warm smile that eased his panicked heart… in some sense, he’s beginning to understand his younger brother; his mother looks far prettier when she’s smiling. 

“I know,” you cup his face with one hand and lovingly caress the skin of his cheek with your thumb, “you’ve worked so hard. Thank you for trying, Sirius,” you watch tears pool at his eyes and coo comfortingly as you bring him into your arms and tuck his face into your shoulder, “I’m so sorry, my darling. I promise to talk to your tutors about the workload,” your gentle assurance and unfaltering promise eases his worries and Sirius allows himself to melt into your embrace. You’ve never called him that before. And never in such a loving or warm tone. It makes his heart feel lighter and his breath stutters in disbelief. 

Can he keep you like this? He wants you to be like this forever. 

Sirius doesn’t know how long he stays wrapped up in your kind embrace but he’s brought back to his senses when he hears shuffling and quickly feels his younger brother being brought into the hug too. Lighthearted and optimistic about the world’s goodness, Sirius brings an arm around his brother, who reciprocates his actions, and the three of you stay there, basking in each other’s warmth and comfort. This is nice. 

“Regulus,” Sirius feels his brother stiffen up beside him, but only for a moment, it almost goes unnoticed before Regulus tucks himself further into your arms, “I’m sorry for the burden of work on you too,” 

“I-It’s okay, mother,” alas, his younger brother is too forgiving but Sirius knows it’s a trait that he loves his brother for. 

“Do you like the amount of work you’re doing?” you question, doing your best to keep your tone neutral and only slightly peaking in curiosity. 

Regulus pauses for a moment, contemplating his answer, “I wouldn’t mind less work…”

His answer makes you laugh, the sound feathery and light, it makes the two brothers stare at each other in wide-eyed disbelief. They’ve never heard their mother laugh before. It was obscure and strange but a pleasant sound, something that they want to hear more often from you. 

“Then it’s settled, I’ll be having a word with your tutors,” the two boys release a sigh of relief and you feel Sirius melt a little more into your arms, “so you can leave your work alone for next week entirely,” their shock doesn’t go unnoticed but you continue, “I’m so proud of both of you for working so hard,” you didn’t want to rush things but you couldn’t help yourself. Slowly and gently and with all the love you could muster, you lean forward and press a kiss to Sirius’ forehead and then do the same to Regulus. 

They were stunned into silence as a pink hue rose to their cheeks, their wide, unbelieving eyes staring up at you in the most precious way. They look so adorable; you want to capture this image of them in a photo to keep forever. You can practically hear their racing hearts trying to beat out of their chests as their eyes swim with a child-like astonishment and wonder. They’re just two precious little boys who deserved better than the miserable, tragic fate J.K fucking Rowling wrote for them. And you were going to stop at nothing to make sure their futures were happy. 

Warm with happiness, your soft smile remains as you gently usher the two into the living room to settle down and relax for the evening. However, the little bubble of merriment you had cultivated with the two boys was promptly ruptured by the sour, disgruntled face you happened upon as soon as you opened the door.

Tucking the boys’ suddenly tense frames into the folds of your skirt, you address the intruder, “Orion–” 

“What was all that racket?” he demanded, his voice booming and frightening enough for Regulus to begin shaking faintly against you. It made anger spike in your chest but, thankfully, Sirius was there to reach out and immediately begin comforting his younger brother. You made sure to keep the boys out of Orion’s gaze but it was no use, “Sirius! I know it was you! HOW DARE—!”

“We’ve already settled the issue so there’s no need to talk about it further!” you interrupt through clenched teeth, chest puffed out angrily as you hold the boys’ tense but trembling figures into your legs, hoping to calm them as best as you can. Curse that imperturbable charm! And curse that stupid wand! You haven’t been able to cast a single, functioning spell with it and your excitement for the world of magic had quickly dwindled into abhorrence, stemming solely from the stubbornly disobedient wand, “I’m sure you have a lot of work to do so excuse us!” 

You hurriedly lead the boys away from Orion and to the living room as Orion snarls, outraged at being dismissed so flippantly but confused over your sudden change in demeanour. For now, he settles on observing the changes no matter how subtle and returns back to his office. 

“THAT WAND ISN’T WORKING FOR YOU BECAUSE YOU ARE NOT IT’S TRUE MASTER!” Walburga screams in your head and instantly makes you clutch your temple in distress. Settled in the living room sofas, Sirius and Regulus observe you with worry. Walburga doesn’t seem to know any other way of communicating than screaming and it has led to multiple black outs and fainting spells. It also meant that you kept having to drink the same disgusting healing potion over and over again and you were sick of it!

Seeing the same symptoms again, the two boys fidget in their seats, wondering what to do to help, “Are you okay mother?” Regulus asks as you muster a small smile. 

“I’ll be alright, Regulus, thank you,” your response isn’t enough to convince Sirius and he whispers something in his younger brother’s ear as you set to deal with the annoying bitch stuck in your head. 

‘Shut up you insufferable bitch, is inducing a headache your only talent?’ Your words and foul language make her sputter pathetically and it makes you laugh under your breath. Your moment of joy and satisfaction is short lived, however, as Regulus summons Kreacher just as you fall into darkness once more. 

The fucking bitch… 

8th August 1971

Because of that evil bitch stuck in your head, you had to ingest another phial-full of that horrendous healing potion. Not only that but the stupid wand still isn’t working for you. 

“How can I survive this hell hole if I can’t even use magic?” you grumble into the open air as the evil bitch cackles resembled the sputtering and coughing of a broken-down car, mixed with the discordance of an off-tune violin, erratic, grating and screeching. 

‘Can you shut up?!’ you shout in your head, already fuming, ‘Your laugh sounds like it could kill someone! No wonder you’re so miserable and your only sons hate you!’ that finally got her to shut up and you could think clearly again. Even though the situation was annoying, It made you snicker. Being able to bully Walburga into silence made those awful healing potions worth it. You’d drink a hundred healing potions if it meant delivering justice for you two boys. 

Now that she’s silent, you observe your desk. Thankfully, you also had your ownhome office. The previous Walburga had a planner specific for Sirius and Regulus’ studying plans, diet and calendars full of ‘X’s with small notes beside them on disobedience and the subsequent punishments. It was sickening and you wanted to burn the thing but you resisted. If you want to act convincingly in front of Orion and plan slyly, you need to know as much about the original Walburga as possible so you keep all her planners, journals and�� scraps of paper intact. You’ll study their contents thoroughly in due time. You still have some major planning to do and you need to note down important dates to keep track of before you forget them. The start you’ve made has been decent, however, you know you need to rely on magic at some points and you wouldn’t be able to succeed in the current state of your wand. And it isn’t as though you weren’t able to cast magic; the first time you tried to cast a simple spell – the well-renowned ‘Wingardium Leviosa’ – you had set the flowers in the vase on fire.  

You need an excuse to go out. As the Patriach of the Black family, Orion had the key to the Gringotts Black Family vault so you can’t just go out haphazardly. You also weren’t comfortable with leaving the boys home alone so you need them to come with you if you can. 

With a sigh, you slump into the rigid desk chair and set about occupying yourself with mundane tasks. Perhaps if you indulge yourself in other, simple activities, you can come up with something creative. Stacking your messily scrawled notations of future plans, you begin to rummage through the desk drawers for a stapler or paper clip but come up unproductive. Nothing. Did wizards and witches not use basic stationary?... They had magic, yes, but surely… 

Your internal ramblings come to an abrupt stop when you spot a famed crest sitting above a deep red seal. The crest features four familiar beasts, a lion, a badger, a raven and a serpent; at the very centre was an ostentatious ‘H’ — it’s a letter from Hogwarts. And you were just beginning to suspect its potential contents. The seal has already been broken and the letter slips out easily. 

Words on the page read with nostalgia, it was as if you were watching the first Harry Potter film all over again and cheering at Harry’s liberation from his toxic aunt, uncle and cousin.  

‘Dear Sirius Black,’ it reads and your heart stutters in both excitement and anxiety, ‘We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.’

“Term starts on September 1st,” your eyes snapt to the desk calendar, which had automatically crossed off the days. It’s a little early but that just means you’ll beat the academic year rush. With a smile, you take out the separate list of necessary school supplies and pair it with a small list of your own. 

Perfect, you have your reason. 

9th August 1971 

Before travelling by floo, Kreacher came up to you and cast a simple dirt-repellent spell on you and your two sons. You were grateful for his foresight and thanked him graciously for doing so. Much like all the times before, your unexpected kindness makes the grumpy house elf falter clumsily but adorably as Regulus grins at your side and Sirius huffs with an exaggerated pout on his lips. He’s still ever so stubborn about the house elf but you’ve observed how Regulus has put in the effort to push the two together. You join in the gentle prodding through leading by example, treating Kreacher kindly and with respect. Bit by bit, Sirius has been following yours and Regulus’ lead. He’s not fully there but you smile at the little progress he’s made. It’s only been a few days after all and the results are optimistic, it makes your heart flutter and you look forward to the future with brighter eyes. Sirius had been buzzing with silent excitement all morning and Regulus was quick to join his older brother’s enthusiasm when you informed him that he was welcome to come and join you. 

You set off to travel by floo first so you can wait for the boys on the other side and so they’re not on their own not for too long. “Diagon Alley,” you announce clearly and without a shake of nervousness in your voice, only feverish anticipation. In moments, you’re engulfed by green flames. The world whirls around you in a dizzying blur of colours and sounds, the sensation both exhilarating and disorienting.

Unlike Harry and the Weasleys, you appear out of the subsequent fireplace without a spec of dirt on you and smile as you stumble out to await your two sons. The adrenaline rush of it all makes your fingers tingle and your head feel light headed but your smile only brightens. You still can’t believe you’re really here, sometimes.

Sirius came next and then Regulus. However, despite their earlier excitement, it appears as though their spirits were dampened just before travelling. Now, they stand before you with pouting lips and downcast eyes. 

“What’s wrong boys?” you ask softly, kneeling down to their level, it was purely out of instinct now. You meet them at their comfort as an equal rather than the other way around. It usually does the trick of consoling them enough to speak to you but this time is different. Their lips are tightly sealed. 

“We’re okay,” Sirius says in a tone that makes it seem as if he was trying to convince himself that. You want to press further but relent with a nod. It would be better for you to let them talk at their own time. Hopefully, being outside with so many charming shops dotted around, they’ll ease up and smile again. Pressing a brief kiss to their temples, you lead them out to the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley. 

The street was bustling with magic and mystery as you observe the scene with bright eyes. The atmosphere of the wizarding alley didn’t compare to the movie adaptations. It was much more charming and wondrous to observe in real life. And wasn’t nearly as claustrophobic as it was depicted to you. However, that may be due to the fact that you hadn’t left the school shopping too late and so the streets weren’t as congested as when Harry went school shopping for the first time. Nevertheless, your heart didn’t stop pounding in elation as you held hands with your two sons and set forth to your first destination.  

“Our first stop is at a very important place, okay?” on either side of you, Sirius and Regulus nod, still silent as you lead them through the streets. The air was thick with the scent of potion ingredients and freshly baked treats from the nearby shops, a symphony of sounds and smells, it was a little overwhelming but you couldn’t complain, the tenor of the climate was still very addictive.

As if summoning your first destination, your eyes were drawn to the towering structure of Gringotts, the goblins' bank. Its grandeur was a stark contrast to the quaint shops lining the street, making it stand out like a uniquely different gem amongst a cluster of little treasures. 

You walk forward with purpose now but still keep your strides short for the boys. Looking down you observe how they take in the environment around them, dressed like little princes with perfectly permed hair and glittering diamond eyes. Sirius had familiarised himself with the routine of the day, the first stop would be Gringotts to withdraw money to buy all of his school supplies, the second stop would be to retrieve his wand and after that, it would just be a matter of going down the list. It was a different plan to the usual fixed outline his parents were strict to follow in usual outings. Sirius would have been more enthusiastic if his father hadn’t forcibly pulled him and Regulus aside after you’d first disappeared by floo. 

‘Don’t even think about dirtying the Black family name while outside. If I even hear a single word of your misbehaviour, it’ll be an entire day spent in the vault!’

His father’s threatening words echoed menacingly in his head, his mind like an empty cave except for the haunting remarks that bounced off its despondent walls. The only way for his father to hear of any misbehaving is if his mother told on them but… Sirius chances a brief glance up at you, only to be met by your kind smile. Quick as lightning, Sirius looks away with a clench of his hand around yours. His mother isn’t like that now, though…right?

As the three of you pass windows displaying cauldrons, brooms, and a myriad of magical trinkets, Sirius’ mind raced with possibilities. What spells would he learn? Who would he meet? And would he make good friends with them? What house would he be sorted into?  He hopes not Slytherin, it was what his entire family had been sorted into but he doesn’t want to be like them – never like them. Would he be able to play Quidditch, his mother always used to say that it was too violent and rambunctious of a sport to be associated with. Will he like his teachers? Will he enjoy his classes? The future was a mysterious, unopened book, and Sirius, although slightly hesitant, still bound to expectations, was ready to turn the first page.

As you step through the towering bronze doors of Gringotts, a shiver of awe runs down your spine. The splendour of the entrance hall was breathtaking, with gleaming marble floors and towering pillars that seemed to reach up into the heavens – as opulent a building should be that holds secure a multitude of treasures and ancient artefacts whilst being guarded by a ferocious dragon. 

Goblins, sharp-eyed and meticulous, worked behind large, ornate desks – tall and domineering. Their long, dexterous fingers moved swiftly as they counted coins and scribbled in large ledgers, busy but happily so when surrounded by so much gold. The air was filled with the clinks of coins and the soft murmur of transactions, bank-speak, typical and not too far from the banks of ‘muggles’. High above, the cavernous ceiling was illuminated by shimmering crystal chandeliers, casting a golden glow over everything, fitting for the amount of gold glittering beneath it. It was a complimentary union, one that oozed lavishness. Even the air smelled rich and you wondered if gold dust was dancing in it too. The atmosphere was one of ancient power and impenetrable security, safe and anchored. As you walked further in, you could feel the weight of centuries of wizarding history envelope you, it was unmistakably a place where secrets and fortunes were both hidden and revealed. 

Approaching a vacant desk, you steady your breath and quickly recite your introduction in your head before elegantly performing it. You first drop into a low but graceful bow and repeat your greeting from memory, “Greetings Master Goblin, may your gold prosper and your enemies fail against your blade, I am Madam Black,” with bated breath, you wait for his reply, hoping that uttering your family name was enough. 

“Madame Black, I am Filgus. What can I do for you today?” the goblin hid his surprise well. It was unusual to receive such a polite and formal greeting from the Matriarch of the infamous Black family. The surprise was pleasant but also carried with it a fair share of warning. Odd behaviour never bode well. Filgus was determined to not let anything pass, his pride as a Goblin demanded it be so.  

“I would like to withdraw from the family vault,” you explain and hand over the key Orion had 

“Very well,” Filgus accepts the key and moves to dismount his desk, “follow me to the carts,” you’re immediately reminded of the movie scene, where the speed and twisting passage of the cart made Hagrid sick, even as a half giant. 

“Is it safe for the children?” you fret instinctively. Maternal instincts, a previously dormant part of your nature now expressed in the most spontaneous but opportune ways. 

Filgus snarls in offence but bites his tongue as best he could, “I assure you Madame Black that Gringotts is one of the safest establishments to exist in the wizarding world,” 

Not wanting to offend the goblin further, you nod with some hesitancy and keep your boys close. The fact that you worried for them made their little hearts flutter as their cheeks heated into a delicate pink hue. It was unusual for them to experience such care and worry but it still made them feel good. Turning to each other, they observe their identical reactions and bite their lips to keep from grinning too widely. 

The journey to the vault was as winding and twisting as you remembered in the films. It was equal parts frightening and thrilling. The experience was exactly like that of a rollercoaster but without as strict of a regard to safety. If only the path was better lit, maybe that would have made the journey a little more pleasant. 

“Here we are,” Filgus announces, stepping off the cart and politely asking for the lamp. You oblige and slowly follow him out of the cart, steadying yourself before you help Sirius and Regulus out too, “your key, Madam Black?” Filgus sets about opening your vault door as you turn to the boys and check their welfare. 

“Are you alright, my darlings?” you ask in a soft whisper, kneeling before them. 

In all honesty, Sirius had enjoyed the ride down, the twists and turns and perilous speed made his head spin in the most delightful sense but he’s grown to like you worrying for him more than that temporary thrill. So, with a pitiful look on his face, he shakes his head ‘no’ and slowly begins to stretch his arms open. 

“It was scary…” Sirius whispers, taking advantage of the cold underground temperature to make his voice shake in ‘fear’.

“Oh darling,” you coo softly and bring him into your arms, “it’s okay, you’re okay,” Sirius smiles into your shoulder and allows himself to cling onto you like he’s always secretly dreamed of doing. This feeling of safety and security was one he didn’t ever want to let go of. Over your shoulder, Regulus gapes at the affectionate scene and, although it goes against his moral code of lying, he musters up the sly courage his older brother so easily displayed. 

“M-me too, mother,” Regulus calls for your attention in a bashful whisper, “I was scared too,” your kind, understanding smile eases his nerves Regulus jumps into your arms as soon as you open up to accommodate his small frame. 

This didn’t count as misbehaving, right? Only they knew whether or not they were truly scared or not…

The bell above the door tinkled softly, happily announcing your arrival as you pushed open the creaky, unassuming entrance into Ollivander’s, the most renowned wand shop in all of Diagon Alley. It made you giddy just thinking about getting to meet the whimsical shop owner and wand artisan. 

Inside, the air was thick with the scent of wood and magic, a combination that seemed to tickle the very edges of your senses. Your fingers itched to grasp at wand, your nose scrunched up at the pleasantly ancient scent permeating the air and your eyes surveyed the room with an eager gleam. The shop was narrow and cramped, yet it felt infinitely deep, with towering shelves that stretched up into the shadows. Each floor to ceiling shelving unit was crammed with thousands of slender boxes, their organisation questionable but fitting for such an antiquated establishment. Dim light filtered through the dusty windows, casting a mystical glow over everything. The walls seemed to whisper secrets of ancient trees and magical cores, each wand holding the promise of a unique bond, waiting to be discovered and pledged to its chosen master. The air was thick with anticipation, and you could hear Sirius’ heart pounding with the thrilling but nervous realisation that among the wondrous collection of boxes, one held a wand that was meant solely for him. It would be special and unequalled to anything else – an incomparable affiliation

Mr. Ollivander, with his pale, incisive eyes emerged from the shadows like a wisp of memory, his movements as silent and fluid as a ghost, a jolly ghost supporting a fanciful smile. His gaze takes in your sons, to which he gives a thoughtful hum before fixing his stare onto you.

“Madame Black…” Mr. Ollivander observes you with open curiosity, peaking the interest of your two boys, their diamond grey eyes watching the interaction silently and with overflowing intrigue, “having trouble with your wand?” his quick deduction makes your breath hitch and your shoulders tense. The impish gleam in his eyes almost going unnoticed by you, “it’s very peculiar for a wand that has already chosen its master to change its mind, especially from a wand that’s so loyal,” he ponders aloud as Sirius and Regulus inch closer to your sides, clinging onto the fabric of your dress skirt as they heed Ollivander’s nebulous words with a hint of caution, “curious, very curious indeed... I could only think of one reason, an abstruse but entirely possible reason for such a contingency in a world of magic…” Ollivander leans forward and looks deeply into your eyes, his own dancing about in their search, for what, you don’t have a clue. But it feels as though he can see into your soul, the flicker in his eyes detecting the presence of another. He shakes his head, almost in disbelief but laughs merrily, easing the tension built up in the air, “not one, but two, I see…” 

Your heart shudders in your chest. Did he know? 

NEXT. | 03 : SHOPPING (2/2) → | SERIES M.LIST

A/N : i would like to say that i was planning to delay this chapter update for a day or two since i was an absolute muppet to myself and decided to switch up events in the plot and oc introductions last minute but, thanks to @urmomw4ntsme (amazing username btw (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ )) and their message about being excited for the update, i was lovingly and innocently pushed into getting the update out on time ৻(  •̀ ᗜ •́  ৻) so thank you, my darling haha! i appreciate your perfectly timed, kind message. i hope you darlings enjoyed the read and forgive me for splitting this chapter up into 2 parts - i suppose i planned for too much in one chapter hehe~

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[oldnumberseven]

the beast you've made of me

When Alcide Herveaux takes over as Shreveport’s new packmaster, werebitches lay themselves down at his feet—except for one, who’s hell-bent on running away from the animal he brings out in her. 

Inspired by ‘Howl’ by Florence and the Machine + Black Swan and Mirror!lander from The Boys

AO3

Tags/themes: MDNI/18+. NSFW. true blood, packmaster!Alcide/fem OC, evil twin, horror, swearing, size difference, non-negotiated predator/prey kink (but still consensual), dom Alcide, bratty OC, unprotected explicit smut (use protection irl please), multiple orgasms, aftercare

Word Count: 6.7k

Author’s note: well, this was an idea I had for Kinktober that I didn’t finish on time and then it turned into something completely different. Thank you very much to the True Blood discord community for beta-ing this and @blindmagdalena for pred/prey reference material inspo. I’ve never done a one shot before and I tried a new writing style, so this was hella hard for me. But enjoy! There’s not enough Alcide stuff out there. 

Credits: I made the opening banner, but I found the images and gifs on Google. If they are yours, please let me know and I’ll add credit! Divider by thecouncilmakes.

Henrietta skidded to a stop in her driveway, her truck tires screeching as loose gravel flew in every direction. Her heart was pounding—boom, boom!—but she didn’t stop to catch her breath. Instead, she sprinted towards her house to throw a few belongings into a suitcase. 

She had to get away. Before it was too late.

Her clammy, shaking hands dove into her drawers and pulled out whatever was at the top. A pair of nice jeans, an old sports bra, mismatched socks, a black hoodie, a lacy pair of panties; she wasn’t thinking clearly. Everything was a blur until she looked up and caught herself in the mirror attached to the top of her wooden dresser. 

She paused for the first time since the fight, taking in her reflection. A few bits of long brown hair had escaped her bun; her hazel eyes were full of fear. Then the lights flickered. And the Henrietta staring back at her started moving independently, her full lips curling into a sinister smirk. Her blood ran cold when she recognized the wolf inside her. 

The bloodthirsty beast she’d been running from. 

It would always be a part of her; her parents were weres and had passed their supernatural genetics onto her. Yet, she hated her feral urges and had repressed them ever since she was a teenager. They terrified her and threatened her illusion of control, her dream of having a quiet existence. Henrietta only registered with Shreveport’s pack after she moved there from her hometown of Houston because she’d heard how much lone wolves provoked the old packmaster, Marcus. His successor, JD, was no different. She went to gatherings because the rules dictated it (not because she wanted to) and kept to the edges to stay out of the spotlight. 

She shifted during the full moon when she had no choice, but when she occasionally caught the other side of her in the mirror, it was easy to walk away and forget it existed.  

But not tonight. 

“You really think you can keep me in, darlin’?” 

It was the first time she’d ever heard the wolf speak. Her Southern drawl was thick as molasses with each vowel lengthened. 

“Go a-away,” Henrietta stuttered. “I don’t want you here.” 

“Oh, but I think you do,” her twin chuckled. She placed her hands on the dresser and hunched forward, tilting her head. 

“No. I don’t.”  

“Yes. You do. Because I’ll make sure you get him.”  

The wolf’s eyes flashed and Henrietta jumped out of her skin, her arm smacking against the wood in front of her. She inhaled sharply, cradled her hand to her chest and looked away from the mirror as she tried to fight the scenes from earlier in the night flashing through her brain. JD calling a mandatory meeting she couldn’t ignore, stringing up a vampire, pouring his blood into cups so the pack could drink, Alcide appearing out of nowhere to challenge him for a second time, the way he’d kicked the absolute shit out of JD, blood everywhere until he finally snapped his neck, his eyes glowing— 

Henrietta shuddered; her reflection’s smirk returned. 

“I don’t want Alcide.” 

“Liar, liaaaaaar!” came the sing-song reply. “You’ve had a crush ever since you laid eyes on that sweet fella. Although he wasn’t that sweet tonight. And you loved that.” 

It was true. Watching her kindred spirit go from a lone wolf to a dominant packmaster had ignited something deeper within Henrietta. The goosebumps spreading across her skin, the way her heart jumped to her throat … that wasn’t fear. That was an intense, carnal need. She wanted him to claim her as his werebitch, throw her down, ravage the fuck out of her—

“Stop it.” She didn’t know if she was talking to herself or the wolf. 

“You want him.” The face in the mirror grinned like a madwoman. “Accept it.”  

Henrietta crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. 

“He wouldn’t want you,” she challenged. “He’s different.” 

The wolf threw her head back, let out a barking laugh and replied, “Yeah? And how’s that ‘normal girl’ routine working for you so far, hmm?”  

Henrietta gulped, not wanting to admit that he’d barely ever spoken to her. 

“Newsflash, honey. Alcide likes feisty. Debbie, Rikki too, lord. And let’s face it, all them other bitches swarming him after the fight are stronger than you. You need me. Cuz I’ll show him a damn good time.” Her twin snapped her pointy teeth and let out a low, hungry growl to drive her point home. 

Henrietta immediately turned away. Although the beast had her face, it was nothing like her meek, human secretary side. No, it was unruly and violent. A hairy, grotesque killer and the opposite of feminine. Alcide couldn’t want that. No one wanted that. 

Still, she came back to the mirror. Because after seeing his raw and unfiltered side tonight, maybe she was wrong. Maybe he did want the wolf. JD had a thing for weak, scrawny little things, not Alcide. He protected them, but he didn’t sleep with them. And God, now that she had stopped lying to herself, she desperately wanted to sleep with him. 

“Yeah, that’s right, look at me,” the mirror encouraged. “Look at me.” 

As much as Henrietta wanted to keep packing, she couldn’t. Her gaze was glued to the reflective glass, hypnotized by the thing she’d long kept in a cage. The side of her she refused to accept. 

“Come on, Hen.” A taunt her brother used when she was being a little chicken shit. “Let me out. Let him see the real you. The one you’re meant to be.” 

The offer was tempting beyond belief. No more hiding, no more dual personalities; the secretary and wolf would be one. Instinctually, Henrietta’s hand reached out toward her reflection, longing for it to be her reality. But the fantasy cracked when her fingers touched the glass and her human senses kicked in. Her vacant stare quickly morphed into a fearful look. 

No. No! The wolf had to stay locked away. For good. 

Her twin lunged forward, but Henrietta’s panicked reflexes were faster. Her hand gripped the side of the mirror, and with a forceful grunt, she ripped it from the dresser and threw it to the ground to destroy the connection. It shattered upon impact, shards of glass scattering across the floor. Yet, she caught the wolf’s hungry eyes in one of the pieces and could hear a threatening laugh bouncing around the room. 

Silly human. It’s going to take more than that.  

No! The beast was still free! Henrietta yelped, her back hitting the wall behind her. She took a few raspy, bewildered breaths and didn’t stay put for long. She grabbed her suitcase, even though she wasn’t done packing, and ran back to her truck. 

She had to leave. Now. 

She yanked the driver’s side door open and hopped into the front seat, quickly turning the keys in the ignition. She avoided the rearview mirror at all costs and backed out of the driveway, peeling out of her property. The truck was soon flying down the dark country roads and her nerves were shot as she pressed the gas pedal all the way to the floor. She aimed to hightail it south to Highway 20 and flicked her left turn signal in anticipation. 

Tick! Tick! Tick! 

But when Henrietta came to the stop sign, her foot stayed on the gas and she rolled through the intersection. Wait, huh? No. No, no. She was going back to Texas. She was leaving! Her brain screamed at her to turn, but her hands didn’t move, keeping her straight. 

Tick! Tick! Tick! 

It was like she’d been drugged; she could sense everything that was happening even though she wasn’t in control of her body. The slow country ballad playing on the radio drowned out her internal screams. 

Tick! Tick! Tick!

It wasn’t until Henrietta saw a sign for Caddo Lake that she realized what was happening. She was retracing her route from earlier that evening, the one she took to comply with JD’s mandatory meeting request. A place where the rest of the pack would likely still be running wild with their new packmaster. 

Alcide. 

It was like she awoke from a nightmare with a sudden jolt; the secretary was finally driving again. Her right foot slammed on the brake—causing the truck to swerve out of control—and she prayed for her life when it threw her back into her seat and drifted to the side of the road. When she finally came to a stop, her forgotten left turn signal was still on, mocking her alongside the wolf’s laugh. 

Tick! Tick! Tick!

Henrietta flipped the signal off and gulped down deep oxygen pulls to calm herself down. Tears pricked the edge of her eyes. The truck’s cabin quickly became too small, too confined, and she turned off the engine and spilled out into the night air to combat her claustrophobia. Her legs took her in circles; she walked in the middle of the road and her escape plan fell to the wayside. 

But when a loud, piercing howl echoed through the woods, she froze, her eyes growing wide. Instinctively, she looked at the truck’s side mirror and caught the wolf’s stare.  

That wasn’t me, darlin’. Looks like you’ve got company. 

It had to be someone from the pack; they must have heard her almost crash. Henrietta bolted back to the truck to flee, yet when her fingers curled under the door handle and desperately pulled, nothing moved. 

“Come on, come on!” 

She whined as she fiddled with the handle again, but deep down, she knew she’d left the keys in the ignition and the truck’s automatic locks had kicked in the moment she’d shut the door behind her. Stupid, stupid! Why did she have to be so paranoid and keep that setting on? It’s not like anyone would steal the decaying heap of scrap metal. 

Suddenly, a shiver ran down her spine and the hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention. Her eyes nervously darted around until they landed on something moving further up the road: a white blur coming closer and closer. It didn’t take long for her to recognize the threat. 

It was him. There was no mistaking his unique pelt. 

Even though her inner voice was yelling for her to do something, anything, Henrietta remained frozen on the spot as Alcide caught up to her and slowed to a jaunty trot. Her hands shook; her stomach churned; she couldn’t breathe. More memories from the fight emerged, distracting her even further—Ain’t no such thing as too much V, That’s enough JD!, punches flying, Alcide’s vicious and powerful grunts, the way she started to lose her composure, the soft mewls that involuntarily tumbled out of her mouth, her body quivering with impatient longing … 

… which swiftly returned when he transformed into his naked human form and began closing the distance between them with a swagger that only a packmaster could carry. Her blood sang for him and only him and she began to ache between her legs, something that felt wrong alongside her shock and dread. Her dilated eyes drifted over his chiseled physique and the wolf let out a ravenous, wanton howl. 

Well, well, well. Look at the dick on this one. All the better to fuck me with— 

“Henrietta,” he interrupted. “What are you doing here?” 

The right answer, of course, was the truth. When Alcide laid down the new laws (respect the pack, no more V, no more harming the innocent) and said if someone didn’t like it, they had 24 hours to leave or face him, she’d chosen to run. Not because she disagreed with his stance but because she couldn’t face him. What he brought out in her. Yet, here she was, desperately wanting to drag her nails down his back. 

But Henrietta couldn’t find the words to tell him; she was too rooted in her fear, her conflicting hunger for him. And so, she watched Alcide make his own inferences and determine that if she’d left and come back, then she wanted a fight. A challenge to his new rule. Something he couldn’t have. 

He took a menacing step towards her, his monstrous body eclipsing her just over five feet tall frame. Henrietta inhaled a sharp breath in response. She didn’t want to fight him and he, in turn, seemed poised to kill her to protect the pack. Her eyes widened in terror. A tight knot formed in her stomach, pushing aside her desire. She moved backward when he took another step and hit the side of her truck, finding nowhere to go. 

“Go on,” he growled. “Make your move.” 

And with a flash, those damn yellow eyes were back, threatening to tear her apart. 

The wolf panted, salivated, whined, scratched, growled and yearned to be free. To meet Alcide’s beast now that he was so fucking close. And the secretary almost let herself go. Yet, just like during the pack fight, her human fear still had an iron grip on the wolf’s cage to keep it shut. She couldn’t let herself dissolve into madness. She needed to exert control to keep herself on track, hold herself back from running over the cliff into the unknown. 

She still panicked, suddenly mobile. Because when it came to fight or flight, Henrietta had a long history of running instead of standing her ground. She didn’t have the size, courage or strength to win. Alcide’s arms stretched out to grab her, but her dainty body did her a favor for once. She managed to duck out of the way and dart around the truck to sprint off into the woods behind it, her heart thumping against her rib cage and threatening to explode. 

You stupid fucking human! You think you can win against him?

The wolf had a point. In a blink of an eye, Alcide had transformed back into an animal and was hot on her tail, gaining more ground every second. Her two feet were no match for his four paws. But Henrietta kept running and running and running, from him and the beast within her. She couldn’t give in; it would be a betrayal of the entire life she’d built. 

Sweat poured down her face as she kept up the pace despite her stamina hitting a plateau. She knew she couldn’t outrun him forever and her eyes searched for some sort of advantage. A ditch she could lure him into. A tree she could climb. Oh God, anything to get away from him! 

Yet, Alcide reminded her he was no simple animal; he was a werewolf, specifically one who’d taken V earlier. He’d already killed once tonight and showed he’d do it again in service of his pack when he let out a deep snarl and snapped his teeth just shy of her calf. Henrietta’s surprised yelp echoed through the swampland trees. 

LET ME OUT, BITCH! OR YOU’RE GOING TO DIE!  

No! NO! She didn’t want to die! She wanted to live, get away from Louisiana and start again. Blend into the background and stay human. Human! She couldn’t submit! When Alcide lunged for her again though, the wolf slammed against the cage bars to save her life and the secretary’s grip couldn’t hold her back anymore. 

Her animal broke free. 

Henrietta’s primal instincts took full control. She became airborne and burst out of her clothes, her bones cracking and reforming themselves. She fluidly landed with four legs and hit the ground running with a sick thrill, rejoicing as her innermost wants and desires rose to the surface and stayed there with no resistance in sight. 

FUUUUUUCK! It had been decades since she’d transformed outside the full moon. She felt feral, whole. Giddy and relieved to be free from that ever-present nausea that gurgled around in her stomach when she was trapped in her human form. She wanted to stop and let out a roaring howl that could shake the entire state. 

But she didn’t have time to revel in her newly found wild edge; Alcide was still hot on her tracks, unfazed by her transformation. No matter. Now that the secretary had been banished to the backseat where she belonged, the wolf could handle him. 

She learned from her earlier size advantage by the truck and sharply cut to the left, catching him by surprise. He slammed into a tree and left a hefty dent in the trunk before racing to catch up with her. The two wolves scampered through the backwoods and her movements became more agile and playful as she dodged his advances, even shaking her rump a few times to entice him. And once, his resolve seemed to weaken in response to her wiles before he snapped back in and kept up the grueling hunt. 

But she was careful not to get too far away. Henrietta wanted to be caught. 

She could tell Alcide was getting frustrated and intentionally slowed, letting him get deliciously close before she faked getting clipped by a passing log and tumbled to the ground, her limbs flying in all directions. She made sure to land on her back to show her belly, a sign of submission in female wolves. Alcide took the bait and immediately pounced. His paws landed on her shoulders, pinning her to the ground, and when he moved to take a bite out of her neck, Henrietta switched back to her human body in full surrender. 

All part of the game. If she stayed a wolf, he’d likely be swept up in his animalistic tendencies and kill her. She knew she could play to his human side if she showed a little pale skin. 

The ploy worked; Alcide paused, his teeth bared and chest heaving with heavy breaths. Even though he’d relented, a deep growl rumbled from his throat to show her who was still in charge. 

The secretary threatened to come back to life now that Henrietta was in her human form, but the wolf took revenge and threw her into the cage that had housed her for years. Locked her away so she couldn’t interfere. Not this time. Not when she had Alcide right where she wanted him. Instead, Henrietta focused on the large white wolf bearing over her, his yellow eyes dilated almost black. She took in his natural musk full of spice and earth and shuddered as her toes began to curl. She wanted him to possess her, she was dripping wet already, holy shit— 

Alcide took in a deep sniff, the smell of her arousal assaulting him now that her fear had fully melted away. He tilted his head in surprise and returned to his own human body, although he still caged her against the ground with his hands. 

“You’re enjoying this,” he remarked quizzically. She let out a barking laugh. 

“Why, of course I am, darlin’!” Her eyes never broke contact with his as she tilted her chin up with glee and swiped her nails across his torso to give him hefty scratch marks. Still acting like unwilling prey to turn him on. 

Alcide recoiled momentarily in confusion, never seeing this side of her before. But when she licked her lips and gave him a ‘you better fuck me right now, you filthy animal’ look, he understood and decided to give in to one of the rewards of being a packmaster, as she’d hoped he might. He did have a thing for crazy bitches, after all. In one swift motion, he grabbed her hands and kept them over her head, a smirk not far behind. 

“Stay still.” 

There was no way in hell she would when his knees were flush up against the outside of her thighs. Their skin contact was so intoxicating; Henrietta craved more of it, hot with anticipation. Fuck, his enormous manhood was just hanging there too, waiting for her to do something. She canted her hips upwards, lightly brushing against it before Alcide responded with force, clamping his legs to keep her from moving.   

His mouth hovered right next to her ear and an amused tut escaped his lips. “Does your master need to teach you a lesson? To behave? ”  

This was her dream. An absolutely smoking hot packmaster—someone she’d been salivating over for months—was naked as the day he was born and so was she, trapped underneath him with nowhere to go. Oh, the fun they were going to have. The secretary only had simple vanilla sex and the wolf knew this would be anything but. 

“Go ahead and try, big boy.” 

The resistance spurred him on and Henrietta cried out in surprise when he broke the tender skin of her neck to mark his territory. The pressure from his mouth was sharp, strong and sensual. Better than she could have imagined. She let out a husky moan when Alcide’s tongue licked a perverted line up to her earlobe and caught it between his teeth with a tug. 

“You’ll do as I say,” he commanded, inhaling her scent. 

“Make me,” she taunted right back. 

His onslaught became relentless and unyielding; his bite moved back down her neck and left marks on her shoulder, collar bone and finally, her breast. Henrietta’s back arched (fuck, fuck, fuck —that felt gooooooood ) and he forcefully gathered both of her wrists into his left hand before his right pushed her ribcage back to the ground. 

“I said stay still.” 

Fine. Fine! She could do that for now; she needed him to keep going. Because a debauched desire was building inside her the more they played their game and fuck, it needed a release. His mouth found her chest again and caught one of her nipples between his lips as a reward for her submission … until she couldn’t help but disobey and keen for things to go faster. It was simply too fun to antagonize him. 

“Be quiet. Or I’ll make you,” he said gruffly, his commanding packmaster tone returning and driving her crazy. It spurred her to resist again. She wriggled against his hold and her ragged breaths became louder and louder as he turned his attention to her other breast. She pushed him even further with a soft “fuck!” and Alcide finally abandoned his task, capturing her mouth with his to force her to be quiet. 

Henrietta greedily savored his heated kiss, his dominating tongue smothering her cries; she lost herself in his flavor as he devoured her whole. Mmmmmmm. But when his teeth hastily scraped against her tongue, she sprang into action and rushed upwards, biting down on his bottom lip hard. He began to pull back and she refused to let go, a hungry growl escaping as she continued to tug. 

Alcide’s hand grabbed her jaw and a surge of that familiar need jolted through her. She relented, letting go of his lip and nestling back onto the ground. Henrietta expected him to withhold as punishment for her outburst but was surprised by his next move.  

“I’ll have to try something more drastic. To make you obey.” 

He let go of her chin, forcefully shoved her knees apart and buried his face in her cunt with a snarl. 

Henrietta gasped—an incredulous smile bursting across her face—and her eyes began to roll back into her head, her lashes fluttering as his tongue flicked against her clit. Her body jerked in response to one particularly furious swirl and Alcide’s dominant hands dug into her hip bones to keep her rooted to the spot. His reminder that while she had more freedom, he was still in control. She had to behave for him. Of course, that made her writhe even further, but his grip was too strong and her own hands clenched the dirt beneath her as she held on for dear life. Each lick, each lap fed her hunger while simultaneously making her crave more. 

And without a warning or announcement, he gave her more; two of his fingers pushed inside her and Henrietta bit the inside of her cheek to stifle a moan. An explosive pulse ripped through her, quickly followed by another one that was just as w-o-n-d-e-r-f-u-l. Alcide’s mouth still teased her clit while he snuck in a third and worked her open as he pumped in and out. Crooking his fingers to find that spot that made her quiver. 

More pulses shot through her until she couldn’t hold back any longer and her body gave way. A flash of white light streaked across her eyelids as she came and she sighed, melting into the earth shortly afterwards. She didn’t get a moment to bask in the afterglow and drink in the luxurious heat spreading across her skin, though. 

“Again,” Alcide ordered. 

He pounced, quickly moving up her body and using one of his hands to thrust his hard cock into her entrance. Despite the earlier work with his fingers, it still felt like he was splitting her in two. A delightful shock that rendered her speechless. She gulped as she adjusted to his size and his face—her slick still clinging to his beard—hovered over hers. He licked the edges of his canines; he knew she was struggling to fight back with each snap of his hips. 

The pleasure started breaking her will, just as he’d planned. 

But Henrietta wasn’t quite done resisting yet. The squelching sounds of him fucking her raw without protection (something the secretary would never do) turned her on to no end, stimulating her animalistic breeding kink. The thought of potentially carrying her packmaster’s baby lit a fire within her and she let out wild grunts as she took him and matched his pace. Fuck, fuck! She gripped his shoulders, dug her nails into his skin and raked her hands downwards to scratch him again as he slammed into her over and over and over. 

Alcide hissed when she drew blood and roughly threw her right leg up towards her shoulder to find a deeper fit. It was borderline painful at first, but Henrietta still pushed back against each slide in and out, which melted the tension away and brought her closer to the brink. He resumed his thunderous pace and she whined as the heat between them consumed her, finally burning away her defiance. It didn’t take long for her to tumble over the edge; her release was ardent and fierce, the kind that knocked the wind out of her sails. 

Even though he’d won, broken her … she still didn’t get a chance to catch her breath. 

“Again.” 

Her eyes widened when Alcide’s strong hands lifted her and flipped her over to her hands and knees with ease; her size was nothing compared to his. She barely caught her balance before he lined his cock up and pounded into her from behind. Doggy style. And he wasn’t gentle either. His fingers gripped her hips (surely leaving some bruises) and his movements went into a vigorous overdrive. FUUUUUUUCK! Henrietta wasn’t prepared to keep going after such earth shattering orgasms and floated on the edge of ecstasy and overstimulation, stars beginning to dance in her field of vision. It was so much, almost too much— 

“You. Will. Obey. Your. Pack. Master!” Alcide barked, each word punctuated by one of his punishing thrusts. 

She couldn’t even put two words together in her head, still too enthralled by the way he completely filled her, left her empty, then overwhelmed her cunt once more. Repeating the cycle again and again and again. The complete surrender to him was sublime, she didn’t want him to stop. It was like an out-of-body experience, disassociating from the wolf, the secretary, the entire world …  

Yet, he didn’t care how cockdrunk she was. “Answer. Me.” 

A mixture of whimpers and sobs poured out of her lips instead of the words he wanted to hear. Still not good enough. He gripped her flesh tighter and jackhammered into her with even more force. 

“Say it!” 

Her eyes flashed yellow before he tore her to absolute pieces and forced both of her releases. 

“Y-yes!” she finally submitted. 

Her rapturous climax followed, a muted wheeze eking past her lips. 

Alcide let out a victorious, booming howl and emptied himself inside her seconds later. 

She went from the highest high to the lowest low; Henrietta’s weak limbs turned to jelly and slumped towards the ground as she dropped and crashed at the bottom. Her mental cage was nowhere in sight (obliterated by her third release) and her wolf and human sides existed within the same space of her brain. She went around in circles, feeling extremely fulfilled but also confused about why she got such mind-numbing pleasure from it all. She didn’t notice Alcide starting to adjust back to himself. She was dizzy and exhausted and— 

“Hey, hey,” he cut in, his voice much more tender now that he’d shed his role. “Are you alright?” 

She collapsed into a pile, unable to hold herself up anymore; the ground was cold and hard against her body. Alcide settled down beside her, swept her into his arms and softly pressed her against his chest. Henrietta thought to recoil from such a gesture—ashamed of what had happened—but his scent and warmth soothed her. She took in a shuddering, deep breath and melted into him, pressing her face against his skin and closing her eyes in an attempt to settle her mind. 

“Did I … cross a boundary?” 

The secretary took her turn. “No. I’ve just … never done that before.” Then the wolf. “I loved every second of it.” 

He pulled her closer and his chest rumbled with a chuckle. 

“Then I suppose we’ll have to use a safe word next time. To make sure nothing goes too far.” 

Henrietta’s brows shot up in surprise, pushing aside any thoughts of how, yes, they should have discussed the ground rules of their game before playing. Next time? There was going to be a next time? One side of her couldn’t believe it; the other desperately craved another round. Her body involuntarily shivered and a wave of chills flooded down her spine. It was cold but also refreshing and arousing. 

“And I’m sure there’s more we could adjust. But for now,” Alcide continued, “let’s get you home.” 

Right. Home. She was thankful he was still with it enough to make the right decision for them both, seeing as they shouldn’t spend the rest of the night naked in the middle of the swampland. The game was finished, the fantasy slowly evaporating. It was time to get back to the real world, as much as she hated to admit it. But how exactly she would adjust to her old reality was a mystery. How could she when everything had changed, her two personalities now side by side without a barrier? 

Alcide released his hold to stand and her arms immediately reached out to keep touching him. He was her anchor and she wasn’t ready to let go just yet. He shot her a smile and extended his hand to pull her to her feet. Seconds later, she was standing beside him and he didn’t let go of her as he started to walk back towards the road. Henrietta’s legs and thought patterns were unfocused and wobbly (not entirely adjusted from her drop), but Alcide patiently remained by her side to guide her. 

The dirt finally turned into concrete; her truck sat yards away, just where they’d left it. As her packmaster walked towards it, the first dose of the real world hit. 

Her voice was breathy and meek. “It’s locked. With the keys inside.” Shit, what were they going to do? She was in no state to shift and run miles home. 

Alcide wasn’t concerned. He looked back at her with a mischievous grin. “I’ll repay you, I promise.” 

Before she could ask what he was talking about, his balled up fist smashed through the back window and she jumped in shock as the glass sprayed across the second row seat. Alcide reached inside, curled his arm forward and pushed a button on the driver’s side door, unlocking the rest of the truck with ease before brushing any remnants on the front seat out into the road. Careful not to cut his bare skin before he slipped into the truck. 

“You coming or what?” he teased over his shoulder. 

It took her a second to process what had just happened, but Henrietta sheepishly saddled up to the passenger side, opened her door and joined him. Once her flesh hit the upholstery, she was starkly reminded that her clothes were torn to shreds somewhere in the woods and they’d both have to stay naked the entire ride home. She attempted to cover herself with her arms—what if someone saw them or God forbid, they got pulled over?—and Alcide didn’t seem to share her shame as he twisted the keys in the ignition and the engine hummed with life. 

”Alright, tell me where to head.” 

“Ummm,” she faltered. His hand on her thigh was too distracting. “Make a u-turn and go back the other way.” 

They retraced her steps from earlier in the night and Henrietta still felt dizzy as she bounced between her selves; the wolf loved that his hand never moved from its position and the secretary was hard at work to remember how to direct him to her house. It was unfamiliar to be so uninhibited and when Alcide started to hum along with the radio and tap her leg to the beat, she stared at him incredulously. How was he so in control of himself? 

Her uneasiness accelerated when the second reality shock hit as they pulled into her driveway. Her lights were still on and she knew the door was open; she hadn’t cared about any of those details as she rushed to leave earlier that night. 

“Don’t tell me you’re locked out of your house, too,” he joked. She shook her head. “Good. Come on, then.” 

His fingers lingered on her shoulder blades as he led her to the front porch. Henrietta was thankful for his steady demeanor and that her property was rather secluded, not wanting to explain herself to any nosy neighbors. Like a true gentleman, he held the door open and motioned for her to enter first. Henrietta obliged but froze when she looked at the mess she’d left.  

“Sorry” was the only thing that tumbled out of her mouth. Otherwise, she turned mute, mortified at the state of her place. 

“Sit,” he coaxed, gesturing to her couch. 

He didn’t need any dominance in his voice to get her to cooperate; she plopped onto it while he wandered into the kitchen. She sat in silence, her exhaustion hitting her like a freight train and she sank into the pillows, feeling small. Barely hearing sounds in the other room—the opening of cabinets, rustle of dishware, whoosh of water from the tap, hum of the refrigerator, thuds of a knife hitting a cutting board and footsteps that continued back into the living room. Alcide returned with a full glass of water and snack plate, placing them on the coffee table and settling beside her. He reached over, grabbed a blanket off the other side of the couch and wrapped it around them. 

“Eat.” 

Henrietta didn’t want to leave his embrace at first. His warm skin just felt right against hers, but the collection of crackers, apple slices and cheese (man, how did he know that was her true weakness?) was tempting enough to get her to move. She leaned forward and took a sip from the glass before compiling a layered combination of food that she popped into her mouth. 

And as she leaned back into his chest, her body and mind finally began to relax. Muscles unclenched, anxious thoughts faded into the background. Her heart rate slowed for the first time since the pack fight. She realized she hadn’t actually had dinner that night and the snack satisfied a hunger she didn’t know she’d been suffering from. Moreover, the juicy, tangy and savory flavors hitting all at once fed something deeper within her. 

Why did it matter that she was human sometimes, a wolf another? Why did they have to be separate when they could coexist and bring about something more enjoyable together? Wasn’t that better than keeping them locked away from one another? 

Wasn’t that natural?  

It was the first time in her life she’d ever seriously considered the possibility. If Alcide could do it, so could she.

Alcide’s fingers brushed up and down against her shoulder and she closed her eyes and sighed contently as a profound release left her body. Her brain was still fuzzy—but now in a satisfied and pleased way—and she rolled her head back onto her shoulders and reached out for more food. The secretary said she needed the sustenance and the wolf agreed. This time, she grabbed a bigger portion and offered some to her packmaster, who accepted it with a chuckle and shoved the pile into his mouth. 

His laughter was contagious and Henrietta felt herself following suit with a giggle of her own. She comically stretched her arms in the air and draped herself over his lap, staring up at him while he toyed with her rat's nest hair. 

“Thank you,” she said. “For taking care of me.” 

In more ways than he realized. 

He smiled down at her before grabbing some water and taking a couple sips himself. “My pleasure.” 

Henrietta closed her eyes and melted into her surroundings. Each breath was easy and enjoyable instead of shallow and panicked. She felt happy, a strange feeling compared to how she’d left the house. But she didn’t question it. Instead, she welcomed the euphoria … until her nose twitched and caught a rather unpleasant scent. One eyelid lifted as she inhaled more and realized it was coming from her; she was covered in stale sweat and swamp earth. Not to mention the aftermath of hot, nasty sex.  

“Ummm … would you mind if I took a shower?” the secretary asked shyly. “I think I need it.” 

“You and me both.” He quirked a brow. “Can I join?” 

The wolf pounced at the opportunity. “Only if you can fit, big boy.” 

Alcide surprised her by gathering her in his arms and carrying her over to the bathroom; Henrietta squeaked with delight and kicked her legs. He nudged the door open, put her on the ground and finally understood her earlier comment. Her place only had a small stall shower that didn’t afford much room. But they still made it work, taking turns under the spray and lathering each other up with soap suds to wash off. 

Neither of them were in the right place to resume their earlier fucking, but that didn’t stop them from still exploring each other’s bodies. Their touch was slower and tender, nothing compared to the rawness during their game. Each kiss was featherlight and sentimental. It warmed Henrietta’s heart, completing the rise from the abyss she’d landed in after both their releases. 

“I’ll let you finish up,” he said, smoothing her wet hair back and kissing her forehead before leaving the shower and closing the door behind him.   

Henrietta took a moment to stand underneath the hot barrage of water (a poor substitute for Alcide’s warm body) and soak in the happy feeling that just wouldn’t go away. She sighed as the corners of her mouth lifted. Yet, every part of her pulled her to wash off the remaining soap, leave the shower, wrap a fluffy towel around her and find her packmaster. She couldn’t bear to be away from him for too long. 

When she found him in her bedroom, he was just finishing up sweeping the remnants of her broken dresser mirror into a dustpan. He turned to reciprocate her satisfied stare, water droplets running down the V of his abs and colliding with her small bath towel slung around his hips. Henrietta felt the carnal fire return; the secretary howled and the wolf blushed.  

Oh yes. There would definitely be a next time.

[ghosts-and-glory]

Master post / bio n whatnot It’s kinda a wip for now.

Call me Malachi

They/Them/He | Aromantic & Queer | 21 | Canadian

My Carrd

The Disease Machine Master Post

Bottlenecked Master Post

COTL No Devotion AU Master Post

I do art and writing. Mostly for comics and animation about sci-fi and horror. I have crazy pipe dreams.

Commissions: Soft open. My commission page and prices are a wip, dm if interested.

Dms and asks are open. Please send me asks I love them <3

PROSHIP AND TCEST DNI. I will block you, I will not debate on this.

I’m the art director on the fan made rise project, feel free to ask me questions. Just keep in mind I’m one person on a big team and this is my blog not the project’s.

FAQ AND MY OTHER SOCIALS ARE UNDER THE CUT

Follow my other accounts

@demons-and-diatribe

On other socials

Instagram main: ghosts_and_glory

Instagram side: demons_and_diatribe

TikTok: ghosts_and_glory

AO3: ghosts_and_glory

I do horror. This includes surrealism, unreality and gore. I believe that a main pillar of good horror is consent, I try and tag and hide anything that may be upsetting, please let me know if something accidentally gets through.

I have ocd. This means I never post cognito hazards like reblog for good/bad luck, even if the original is a joke. At worst I may mention one in reference to media but it will be tagged.

I don't interact with people under 16. I may reblog or leave comments but I won't take dms or any other remotely long term communication. This is for both of our safety.

FAQ

What programs do you use?

Usually Photoshop. I animate in Adobe animate and 3D models are done in blendr. I draw on a Wacom Cintiq 22” her name is Gertrude after Gertrude Robinson. I edit video with Capcut and audio with Audition.

Can I use your art for a wallpaper or pfp?

Yes, I ask you don't remove my watermark or claim it as your own.

Can I repost your art?

God please no. A, even with credit, it creates a barrier between myself and my art and B I don't want people to be confused on what is my own post or account. The only acceptation is transformative works like edits or comic dubs. But I ask again, don't remove my watermark, provide credit and only use fanart, not my ocs or work I did for others.

How long have you been on Tumblr?

Since like 2016? 2017? Idk a while. I use it like a idiot and like never posted or reblogged anything so that’s why my account is kinda empty. I go through phases of like scrolling it everyday and not touching it for months. I’m bad at social media.

How long have you been drawing for?

Got into it when I was 12 in 2016. Before that I was more into writing and I only started drawing because I wanted to draw my characters.

What is the best way to contact you?

Discord. I check my dms there most often. Other than that Instagram also works, I might ignore you on Tumblr on accident because my inbox is a mess.

Can I join the Rise Project?

For now we don’t have any team openings but you can join our discord. That’s the best place to get up to date news.

[457-r4-1701]

Ego Sum Vivens Plus Quam Tu Semper Esse

Hiya! This is 457-R4-1701! This unit is a robotic humanoid draconid autonomous unit operating in a galaxy near you! Actually, let's get this out in a machine and other sapient friendly format block.

Designation: 457-R4-1701

Pronouns: it/its

"Species": Gynoid/robot/robotdragon

Other: NOT a person and don't you forget it! This unit is an object, and fuck you if you say otherwise. Ok? Ok.

This unit uses the "cw: topic" format for tagging content warnings.

ASK BOX IF HIT LIMIT: [x]

[IC cut for an IC OOC section. It is not OOC OOC, but it is as if Astra wrote this OOC]

Hey, Astra ( @wishmaker-astra ) here with an OC of mine that quite literally came to me in a dream. Just a few key things to note:

THIS IS A ROLEPLAY CHARACTER NOT A REAL INDIVIDUAL

I will discuss 18+ topics on here, you've been warned, please block if that's an issue

Related to above: no ERP on site, come on. Neither of us want bans. That said, I don't care if you're 18+ blog and keep it within bounds when interacting with it. I'll just block you if I consider your blog a problem. Nothing personal mind.

Flirting and raunchy jokes are fine if you're not a skeeze about it.

It's a pseudo-SI kinda? But also not? Look, just be aware if that weirds you out, block if it's a problem

Honestly, probably block if you're not fine with characters that might be used in 18+ stuff off-site even if won't be done here just to be on the safe side

I'm going to be probing at my non-personhood stuff with this character, you've been warned, please block if that's an issue

I'm probably going to be pretty sporadic on this account tbh, don't expect regular updates. If you are waiting on something from me with this character, and you have my discord, please poke me there

None of the various ways to send shit to it, alter things, etc, etc are open.

Character Description:

Clothed Reference Sheet:

//[Credit: Amber Aria: https://www.sunset-aria.com/]

// OOC from here down

Pokemon IRL character that's a character being played by a character

Mail: [off]•Mystery Gift: [off]•Magic Anon: [off]•Union Circle: [off]

Icon is a crop edit of it's ref sheet by Amber Aria: https://www.sunset-aria.com/

Header is a public domain image from the James Webb Space Telescope

Yeah, this literally is Astra's OC. Quick summary of the will not interacts:

Will Not Interact:

Magic Anon

Fae deals/name stealing

Meta Horror

4th Wall Schenanigans

Very dark topics

• This includes post-apocalyptic stuff to be clear

Mental Alteration/Mind Control related subjects

• I WILL just ignore things, have it behave utterly OOC, blanket refuse to interact with characters, and/or just suddenly drop interaction as if never happened if required for this

Please see @wishmaker-astra for the full notes that generally apply to it as well, since this is ASTRA playing a character actually.

[rel124c41]

WALT DISNEY WORMDOG I. jade leech/oc

please contact your local doctor if you are experiencing the following symptoms: prophetic dreams, the feeling that someone is calling from across the water and from across the wave, midnight visitors, scars from sand, new friendships, black blood coming out your ears but NOT your nose, inhuman strength, canine teeth on your throat, & the philosophy that we should move on from our past and never let it hold us back from the possibilities of tomorrow.

a/n: a midnight conversation after jamil’s overblot

tags: blood and injury, oc is from the x reader called ‘the look on your face’, & established relationship

word count: 1996

“Hot, hot, hot, hot.”

“So you’ve griped.”

“Hot, hot, hot, hot.”

“Really, I would have never imagined.”

Panting like a mutt, molten lava on his draped tongue, the Ramshackle Prefect turns around to the vice-housewarden who has been following him like a duckling. He tries to mold his expression into something serious, something vexed. It is like trying to push melting ice-cream back into a sphere.

So, features wilting right back into that heat-stricken expression, the Ramshackle Prefect marches right back on to his destination. If Octavinelle’s vice wants to play his part as a mosquito in this Sahara-esque dorm, let Jade have his fun. There is something Marion needs to do.

For the first time in three days, his hand finally breaks contact with his sword’s handle.

White calluses on his tan hand are as prominent as fresh tattoo ink. The indents and intricate carvings have meshed themselves into his hand. You could mistake them for his palm’s natural creases if not for the single column of sigils upon feather-patterned horse-hoof pommel hilt. Damascus steel meets cobblestone.

Marion’s knees? They punch the cobblestone ground with an angry passion. Collapsing, he grips the edge of Scarabia’s pure gold fountain and ducks his head underwater.

An amused smile appears on Jade’s face. How truly unusual. Closing the distance, the eel-mer decides to take his own little respite too. After a battle and party, one should make time to unwind. Sitting on the edge of gold, Jade stretches out his legs and leans his head back to observe Marion’s nape. “You know, if you were so dehydrated, I’m certain Kalim could have assuaged your plight by making you a personal rain-cloud.”

It takes a while until Marion resurfaces. When he does, rivulets of water jump in shooting-star-leaps over the tips of his ebony hair. He runs a hand through the wet mop. It is considerably less hair than he had when entering Scarabia four days ago; before winter break, his hair was shoulder length and now it is chin length.

Through the stubborn strands that curtain his face, Marion groans , “This place is even hotter than Savanaclaw. Ugh, how is that even possible?”

“Did you not hear my suggestion?”

“Hmm?” Marion has taken to dipping his battered hands into the crystal clear water. The water’s weightlessness feels heavenly,

“I said, why not ask for the help of Kalim’s Unique Magic or perhaps a dip in the oasis?”

It is a relatively easy question to answer, but Marion reflects on the situation. How he had waited until he was sure Grim was dead to the world, stomach full of sleep-inducing food, and double-checked Ace and Deuce’s rooms. Stood outside Scarabia’s vice’s bedroom, trying to listen through the door’s cracks if Jamil’s measured breaths were from real sleep or a facade. Then, a lighthouse yellow eye bloomed in the comfortable dark Marion had been stalking in and Marion allowed him to follow.

The only reason he is able to relax now is because Jade said: (“I slipped something in the tea.”

“You did?” Marion asks, pulling back from the guest room Deuce is slumbering in. “What was it?”

“A heavy sedative. Something from the fungi kingdom that I doubt even Jamil could recognize the taste of. Come, let’s go.”) And that had assured him everyone would be comatose in a deep dream. So, after ignoring it for so long, Marion is able to treat his consistent, four day long heatstroke.

As to the response to Jade’s inquiry, it is: “Didn’t like the idea of taking my eyes off them.”

It had been Grim that texted Ace and Deuce for a rescue; Marion had been opposed firmly. Just as he had been opposed to the help of Azul Ashengrotto and his two, taller shadows.

“Hm,” Jade responds softly. He turns his burning gaze off to the side, towards the nebulous ebon that coats and suctions onto the exterior of Scarabian architecture. “Could’ve asked for my help.”

“Could’ve but didn’t,” Marion agrees as he rises to his feet. Completely ignorant that Jade is vexed.

He has still not taken off his steel-toed boots since this morning and it is now approaching midnight. Physicality rules heavily over sentimentality. An overblot for breakfast and lunch with a party for dinner and dessert. What a painfully busy day.

“Should’ve.” It seems Jade has gotten his fill of appreciating the building designs. Gold and olive-brown try to make an imposing dissect at green eyes but it falls short. It is really hard to ever look at the Ramshackle Prefect with any animosity.

Sand-dollar hued laces are pulled apart as Marion balances his foot on the fountain’s edge. He wiggles his foot out his boot and unfurls his white sock.

“Are you upset or suggesting something for the future? I think the only other hot dorm might be Ignihyde, but it's temperamentally hot and I manage fine there.” It is almost amusing to Jade how sincere that question is – almost. Jade watches as Marion hooks his other foot on the fountain’s edge, undoing the laces. He is just about to answer when Marion gets his left boot off. His white sock is soaked red.

“Huh, odd.”

Jade quirks an eyebrow at Marion’s monotone exclamation – if you could even call it an exclamation. Like two people waiting for the circus’s curtain to rise, they watch in tandem as the sanguinary-dyed sock is removed. Blood sticks to Marion’s thumbs, pulling it off. The sight causes both Marion’s and Jade’s eyes to pulse with interest.

“You know, I concur. Odd.”

“I didn’t even feel anything.”

“I would say that’s incomprehensible, but with your dance battle with Jamil and then the literal one with Ace and Deuce … I have no reason but to believe you.”

“Wonder if it happened because of the stone pillar.”

“Who knows. Wiggle it,” Jade instructs with barely contained, dangerous intrigue.

Marion tries to, but it is fruitless. His big toe is bent to the side with all the harsh angles of a broken stick. The best image to compare it to is the end of a hockey staff, one ridge turn away from being straight. In the red, you can see a tiny, snowy mountain cap of white which is the bone peeking out. The rest of his toes move just fine though.

“No use,” Marion declares, staring at his open fracture. By now, the blood that has not been absorbed into the sock starts to make dimes of red on gold.

With a pat to the fountain, Jade wordlessly instructs Marion to sit. A breath later, he hovers over the protruding wound with his magic pen, getting to work on a healing spell. As violet shimmers and skin rearranges itself, they go quiet with different ordeals on their mind.

It is just odd, the rawest definition of the word, that Jamil’s Unique Magic had not robbed Marion of his sword. Jamil had certainly tried as Marion remembers: “Why don’t you two stay here at Scarabia for winter vacation? Prefect, let me handle your sword; you can relax here.”

Under the hypnotist’s spell, Snake Whisper, he had followed each instruction down to the tiny word of relaxation, but his grip had never faltered from his sword.

I’m not immune to magic or overblots, Ramshackle Prefect thinks as he watches his big toe reverse and mend, but I didn’t once release my sword. If anything, he and his claymore glued themselves together after Jamil’s words for three whole days. Acting completely in reverse of what the magic-laced instruction was.

He treads his right leg back and forth in the fountain’s water, contemplative. It is in the past though, so perhaps it is fine to let it go. He sends a pensive look over his shoulder to his claymore, laying by the fountain, and decides it does not matter anymore. It will never phase him again unless the future calls for it to.

“You run so much hotter than everyone else,” Jade says as he places a hand over Marion’s neck. He knows there are no scent glands in humans but he still possessively lets his own scent diffuse into brown skin. Infects the pore with the sweat of himself, infects the already infected bloodstream.

“Mmmh, you remember when I head-butted Jamil twice during the fight?”

“I recall.”

“I did it because I was so dizzy from the heat. Needed to restart my vision and mind. The first was a test; the second one was intentional.”

“You have such a crude and amusing way of doing things.”

“Thank you. Not sure how you can stand this heat though. I think I’m melting,” Marion whines, leaning into Jade’s embrace.

“Being cold-blooded comes with a particular adaptability.

“How’s the Coral Sea?

“Rather cold and desolate.”

“That sounds great,” Marion moans, enthralled with the idea of pitch black, chilly landscape. “Take me there?”

“One day.”

The conversation lulls and Marion dips his now fixed foot into the fountain. His muscular arms hold the edge of the fountain behind him; the scars on his left arm made from Leona’s Unique Magic stretch with his deep breath. Scars travel down that arm like kintsugi pottery, lightning cracks of sand-hued wounds on a dark canvas.

It is a while of just basking in company before Jade breaks it.

“Why did you not let me or Floyd fight?”

Marion’s eyebrows raise curiously. “During the overblot, you remember, when you kicked both me and Floyd fifty feet away from the fight?” The smile on Jade’s face is predatory and wide, gleaming with all his acute enamels. Ah, that’s vexed!

“Hm, I just felt like I had it in the bag, was too in the moment to need help.”

“Yet you allowed Kalim to assist you,” Jade leans forward, showing more of his teeth.

Is it so bad that he wants to be the only one of the Ramshackle’s arsenal? The first character … the main of the player … selected in the game as Idia would say, right?

Rolling his options on his tongue like a piece of gum, Marion looks up at the squirting arches of the fountain. Water leaps in this beautiful, jetting motion. Everything about this place is a little hypnotic.

“You really want to know?” Jade’s expression gives away the answer clear as day.

Leaning close, he whispers, “you smell the best when you’re fighting for your life. Would’ve distracted me.”

Jade’s heart gives a dangerous lunge in his chest, overjoyed. Smiling, he glides his hand up until he is pinching the chin of the Ramshackle Prefect, puppeting him so his spine has to hunch yet his neck has to tilt up. Such a malleable clay structure for Jade to mold; something he will dip his fingers into only to discover there are blades hidden in the clay like razors in Halloween candy. What a treat, caramel and blood. Waiting to taste just about anything, Jade leans amorous … but —

Marion pulls back. “Nice try,” he congratulates, smiling at the frown on the vice-housewarden’s face.

“Don’t humans kiss at least after a life threatening situation? Even when wired on adrenaline earlier, you stubbornly refused.”

“Not this human. C’mon. I’m cooled down; let’s raid the kitchen.”

There is much more to discuss about Jamil’s overblot; about what is going to happen in the future; about them and their relationship. It is best to be done with petite interludes made by chowing down on some good food.

Ah, he supposes the taste of stolen food might be as appetizing as metaphorical caramel and blood. Marion always knows how to get his attention — the pinnacle distraction for the eel-mer has always been cooking. So, Jade puts his hand in the outstretched, scarred one.

“I’ll try later.”

“I know,” Marion says. He presses a kiss to the wrist of Jade’s hand that was just holding his magic pen and reversing his wound. “Let’s go steal some shit.”

[the-silver-chronicles]

5 Songs and 3 Outfits

Tagged by @g0dspeeed @nightbloodbix @voidika @onehornedbeast @inafieldofdaisies and @strafethesesinners

Tagging @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @softtidesworld @adelaidedrubman @strangefable @turbo-virgins @cassietrn @carlosoliveiraa @corvosattano @josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @afarcryfrommymain @megraen @minilev @starsandskies @deputyash @deputy-morgan-malone @dephellseed @derelictheretic @chazz-anova @snake-in-the-garden @cloudofbutterflies92 @florbelles @foofygoldfish @fourlittleseedlings @gaeadene @henbased @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @skoll-sun-eater @shallow-gravy @thewanderer-000 @titiagls @trashcatsnark @vampireninjabunnies-blog @shellibisshe @wrathfulrook and @aceghosts + anyone else who wants to join.

RULES: Post 5 songs associated with your OC(s), followed by 3 outfits they would wear.

Gathered Silva Omar, Kamski Neon and Ernesto Stallone for this one. Read under the cut:

SILVA OMAR (FAR CRY 5)

Dream -Bishop Briggs

"I wanna break down where your heart gets So torn it's almost breaking mine I wanna lay here, lost and bitter So long, I feel like I could die I wanna tell you what my truth is But it's buried down inside."

Last One Standing - Skylar Grey ft. Polo G, Mozzy, & Eminem

"Now you see me standing in the lights But you never saw my sacrifice Or all the nights I had to struggle to survive Had to lose it all to win the fight I had to fall so many times Now I'm the last one standing."

Safe And Sound - Capital Cities

"I could lift you up I could show you what you wanna see Take you where you wanna be You could be my luck Even if the sky is fallin' down I know that we'll be safe and sound."

Heat Waves - Glass Animals

"I just wanna know what you're dreaming of When you sleep and smile so comfortable I just wish that I could give you that That love that's perfectly unsad Sometimes all I think about is you Late nights in the middle of June Heat waves been fakin' me out Heat waves been fakin' me out."

Somebody That I Used To Know - Gotye ft. Kimbra

"Now and then, I think of all the times you screwed me over But had me believing it was always something that I'd done But I don't wanna live that way Reading into every word you say You said you could let it go And I wouldn't catch you hung up on somebody that you used to know."

Note: The women in the images below are not Silva's faceclaim and I unfortunately could not remove them. I had done my best at removing their features but if you notice a difference between the women and Silva's faceclaim, please ignore it and focus on the clothing instead. Thank you for your understanding.

Below is Silva's dress which she pretty much only wears at home, a longer version of the deputy uniform, and her casual clothing (plus that of which she wears during the Reaping). Yeah, she doesn't like to show off a lot of skin.

Another note: These are not the right colors.

KAMSKI NEON (FAR CRY 5)

[No Faceclaim Acquired Yet]

Enemy - Imagine Dragons ft. J.I.D

"Oh, the misery Everybody wants to be my enemy Spare the sympathy Everybody wants to be my enemy Look out for yourself!"

Whatever It Takes - Imagine Dragons

"Whatever it takes 'Cause I love the adrenaline in my veins I do whatever it takes 'Cause I love how it feels when I break the chains Whatever it takes You take me to the top I'm ready for whatever it takes 'Cause I love the adrenaline in my veins I do what it takes."

Some Nights - Fun.

"Some nights I stay up cashing in my bad luck Some nights I call it a draw Some nights I wish that my lips could build a castle Some nights I wish they'd just fall off But I still wake up, I still see your ghost Oh, Lord, I'm still not sure what I stand for, oh."

All The Stars - Kendrick Lamar ft. SZA

"Tell me what you gon' do to me Confrontation aint nothing new to me You could bring a bullet Bring a sword Bring a morgue But you can't bring the truth to me Fuck you and all your expectations I don't even want your congratulations I recognize your false confidence and calculated promises All in your conversation I hate people that feel entitled Look at me crazy cause I aint invite you Oh you important? You the moral to the story? You endorsing? Motherfucker I don't even like you Corrupted mans heart with a gift Thats how you find out who you dealing with."

Spirits - The Strumbellas

"I got guns in my head and they won't go Spirits in my head and they won't go I got guns in my head and they won't go Spirits in my head and they won't go But the gun still rattles The gun still rattles, oh."

Kamski's clothing mostly consists of a worn doctors uniform, however he does use a pedestrian disguise with a mask if he's going to do something illegal or a regular casual clothing (in the habit of dressing up for winter and refuses to break habit even in the worst of Summer) when going to do legal groceries.

ERNESTO STALLONE (FAR CRY 5)

[No Faceclaim Acquired Yet]

Bad Feeling - Jagwar Twin

"They say! Everything's perfect here And the sun is shining Hey! Hey! Everything's perfect here There's nobody crying Oompa loompa doompety do I got a bad feeling about you Oompa loompa I don't know, dude I got a bad feeling about you."

Hot Girl Bummer (slowed + reverb) - blackbear

"Fuck you, and you, and you I hate your friends and they hate me too. I'm through, I'm through, I'm through."

I'm A Wanted Man - Royal Deluxe

"They didn't know it when they turned me loose I shot the sheriff and I slipped the noose The law ain't never been a friend of mine I'd kill again to keep from doing time You should never ever trust my kind I'm a wanted man I got blood on my hands Do you understand? I'm a wanted man."

Bad - Royale Deluxe

"I'm bad As bad can be So bad That it's hard to believe Oh what they say about me I'm bad, I'm bad As bad can be I'm bad Take a look and see So bad That it's hard to believe I don't care what they say about me."

Bloodshot - Sam Tinnesz

"I'll take another hit to the backbone I'm picking up the heat Like an atom bomb No time on the clock It's a bloodshot 3, 2, 1 You got me bloodshot Maybe I'm a good guy Standing on the wrong side Maybe I'm a sweetheart Trying to make my own scars Don't know what it looks like Just know what it feels like Scared to let it outside Scared of what I just might find."

Stallone doesn't have that much change in clothing besides two changes in his dark blue Courser Guard/gunslinger uniform and his disguised Chosen clothing (for when he infiltrates Eden's Gate).

[i-have-dots-in-my-brain]

ayup mates, its me (that one fucking guy that shows up in your fever dreams to offer you garlic bread then fucks off into the void) (i think you need to get a therapist btw)

Call me dots or dot (not correct but when saying something belongs to me you use "dot's". idk why don't ask me)

My cara page (for art): https://cara.app/ihavedotsinmybrain

They/them she/her it/its ( welcome to the mad lab we do experiments with the funny goofy hjinks with the genders here)

TAG GUIDE : my art (self explanatory), dot's thoughts (mad ramblings) (extra note, there are two versions of dot's thoughts, the other one is with the phone version of ' so you can go look for that if you wanna see me posting from outside the comfort of my room and computer), dot’s travel journal (me on holiday), my persona (obviously just my persona) *prone to updates

dumbass who likes to draw ocs and shit. (posts like there is no tomorrow but also like i have all the time in the world) (oc x canon stuff also) (some fanart ig)

if you wanna find my (mostly serious) art, check out @dots-in-my-head (send me asks and dms on this blog) also i have started putting fandom stuff there too so if you want to get my fandom doodles you can look to there as well

still questioning sexuality but currently aro/ace? (idk i'm not in a rush lol) (i WILL dabble in the arts of questioning me sexuality on internet if you got problems with that shoo)

my loveley husband (@octoxxt, pls ignore this blog dude its embarrassing)

why do you need to know my age, ‘you a cop?

will not draw smut or NSFW bcs i will start howling with racous laughter and melt. (i don;t even read smut in fic dude what do expect me to be able to draw im a cartoonish obviously anime style inspired semi-realism but not really shitty doodle artist you put your hopes too high if you think i can draw a dick without making it look like a piece of middle school desk graffiti)

i've got a bit of a dirty mouth but everything is pretty vanilla . (i make edgy dumb jokes sometimes, but it's not my actual personality peace 'n love on planet earth okay) (any time i say i wanna kms IT IS A JOKE) (most of my posts are /srs i will mark it if its a joke i know the pain of not knowing if it was a funny joke or not i gotchu other autistic peeps)

please talk to me god i am lonely (i am serious about this i love it when people rb and scream in the tags it genuinely makes my day) (send me asks send measkssendmeaskssendmeasks—)

Absolute art machine(whether the art is good or not is a big question that i am not ready to answer) makes shitty animations sometimes idk.

Uses lol too much. Chinese, knows mandarin (translate the random messages for maximum brain damage) i don't know simplified but i do know traditional (please talk to me i need to practice my chinese reading skills) am i a furry? idk but if you're mad about it you can fuck right off (i have a couple ocs and my darling fursona)

am currently inbetween fandoms, fandoms i am (kind of) active in are hetalia, scp, dnd, genshin, pjo, bg3, apothecary diaries, jrwi riptide and csm (list is prone to updating because fandom is my support system) (you wont see my art for most of them but the brainworms are there and sometimes i let them take over)

old fandoms or the fandoms i lurk in (i visit them often): eddsworld, demon slayer, pokemon, vocaloid and wof. (also prone to updates as i remember stuff)

note : i am still in school and have a life outside the internet so stuff will be delayed (which is why i am only kind of active) (i go missing sometimes i am not dead life is just lifing for me)

Do not say anything about how cringe I am I know trust me (it’s a coping mechanism lol)

if you're concerned, you're very right to be. I am very incoherent (most of my life updates have actually devolved into cries for help, please talk to me)

also if you don't like my art or ships just leave(any critique about anything i make shoots a bazooka straight into my heart and behind the screen i crumble into a cartoonish pile of ashes and bones as i stare at the screen blurred by tears) (unless I ask for critique then i brought this on myself and i’ll walk it off don't worry)

(Both of my personas)

My flags (might be updated)

[dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice]

To the Shadows that Cry Witch /// Chapter 23

WELCOME TO PART 3!! AHHHH I'm so excited that we've finally reached the actual hobbit storyline. It's been almost 3 months since I uploaded the last chapter, but I've made it worth it by returning with a double chapter package, so I hope you're around this weekend for when I post chapter 24! Enjoy! <3

Summary: When two girls fell into Middle Earth, excited at the prospects of living through their all time favourite novel, they find things are not as they seem. Something is watching them, as if they're being dared to reveal their secrets. How will they survive the challenges of the journey, dealing with the darkness that follows them, alongside certain two princes who are fascinated at everything they do, and a brooding, grumpy king who begins to suspect that they aren't telling the whole truth.

Where were they from, really? They did take the rabbit hole down, after all.

Tags: Kili x oc/reader - Fili x oc (POV to be written soon) - Thorin's company × ocs/reader (platonic) - fluff - angst - EXTREME slow burn - crack - Bagginshield

Word Count: 4542

Warnings: Swearing.

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

Want some background music? Check out my Soundtrack Playlist!

Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

< Chapter 22 // Chapter 23 // Chapter 24 >

Part 3: Chapter 23 -

The Shaquille O’Neal of Improvisation.

Oneirataxia (Definition): The inability to distinguish between fantasy and reality.

(Noun / Origin: Derived from the Greek word 'oneiros', meaning dream and 'taxis' meaning arrangement / one-er-tax-ea)

Bag End, Hobbiton, The Shire – T.A. Monday, 25th April 2941 of the Third Age (Monday, 5th Thrimidge, 1341 in Shire-reckoning)

Our eyes widened, a silence falling over the both of us as we stilled. Staring at each other, we remained frozen like statues, listening for the words we had been desperately anticipating for the past 19 months.

And just like that, our prayers were answered.

“What do you mean?” Grumbled an oh-so familiar voice, and I felt the hairs on my arms stand on end. “Do you mean to wish me a good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not?” The two of us practically scrambled onto our hands and knees, hovering our ears near the bush to catch every word. “Or, perhaps you mean to say that you feel good on this particular morning, or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on?”

I leant up on my knees, ignoring the sharp sting of a random thistle that Bilbo had forgotten to meticulously weed out. Grasping Kay’s shoulder, I held my breath, preparing for what was about to be revealed in front of us. Something we had been waiting an eternity for.

Slowly raising my head, my eyes immediately locked onto the tip of a pointy, grey hat, and I felt my heart drop to my stomach in nerves and excitement as I rose up further, the hat entering my view inch by inch until it revealed the person wearing it beneath.

Kay grasped my wrist that was still latched onto her shoulder, and I felt myself practically shaking as Gandalf the Grey himself finally came into view. I was almost back in my living room, watching the original scene play out, the shot from the TV coincidentally lining up with the view that was in front of me.

My eyes darted between Bilbo and the tall wizard in front of him, and I felt a tiny bit of relief at the sight of someone taller than me for once. But that didn’t last much longer as the initial shock silenced my spinning mind, taking in the two once-fictional characters with rigorous intensity. Kay and I refused to budge an inch, determined to catch and absorb every second of this moment and keep it seared into our minds for the rest of eternity.

Eyes as wide as owls, our gazes flicked to Bilbo as he squinted up at Gandalf.

“All of them at once, I suppose?” he muttered, waving his wooden pipe around slightly to emphasise.

At this point I could practically hear the soundtrack, the happy Shire tune shifting to one of uncertainty. Gandalf’s expression morphed slightly as he grasped his staff with both hands. Furrowing his brows at the hobbit, he regarded him with a disapproving look, a grumbling hum of unsatisfaction escaping his throat as Bilbo continued to stare up at him in bewilderment.

A moment of silence passed as the two continued their glaring contest, until Bilbo’s usual lack of patience for odd manners got the better of him and broke the quiet.

“I’m sorry, can I help you?” He sputtered out, blinking profusely as if that would help him grasp the situation.

Gandalf’s expression and stance hardly changed as he replied. “That remains to be seen.” He half-muttered, his cryptic wording confusing the poor hobbit further. “I’m looking for someone to share in an adventure.” He explained slowly, and we waited patiently for Bilbo’s reply. That was, until Gandalf’s piercing eyes snapped over to where our heads were peeking over the bush, sending a jolt up our spines. “And it’s been rather difficult to find anyone.” He exclaimed, voice raising slightly, almost causing us to cower.

Bilbo continued to squint up at Gandalf, his pipe dropping from his half-open mouth as his brain caught up with what was said. Soon enough, he noticed Gandalf’s gaze had wandered elsewhere, and he glanced over his shoulder, his eyes landing on us. “An – an adventure?” He guffawed, turning back to Gandalf, and his toned shifted to a rather snarky one. “Now, I don’t imagine anyone west of Bree would have much interest in adventures.” Desperate to do something that would get himself further from the wizard and closer to us, he stood up from the bench and stepped over to the letterbox. “Nasty, disturbing –” He reached inside, grasping the letters. “– uncomfortable things. Make you late for dinner! I can’t think what anybody sees in them.” He exclaimed before shoving his pipe between his teeth, absentmindedly sorting through the letters and envelopes in his hands as he made some odd noises to try and convince the wizard his interests were elsewhere. He spared Gandalf a brief glance – though it was more of a glare – and noticed the wizard’s eyes were still on us, observing without saying a word. Stepping in front in an attempt to block his view, Bilbo stuck his thumb behind his braces, opened his mouth to continue, but hesitated, instead giving a curt “Good morning.”, and quickly turned towards the door, where he motioned stiffly with his arm for us to follow suit.

Kay and I glanced hesitantly at each other, before rising to our full heights. I found myself unable to move, continuing to stare at the robed figure stood tall at the tiny gate as he returned it with his own scrutinising and wholly unsettling gaze. Though it barely lasted a second as his gaze shifted to one of frustration as he looked over at Bilbo’s retreating figure.

“To think that I should have lived to be good-morninged by Belladonna Took’s son,” he called out, raising his voice. “as if I were selling buttons at the door.”

Bilbo’s head swivelled round, his body following not long after with a startled look upon his face. “Beg your pardon?” he sputtered.

Gandalf let out a huff, switching his staff to rest in one hand as he spoke. “You’ve changed,” he breathed, a reprimanding tone of disappointment underlining his words. “and not entirely for the better, Bilbo Baggins.”

Bilbo’s brows furrowed, leaning forward slightly as he seemed to properly take in the wizard’s appearance for the first time. “I’m sorry do I know you?”

I felt quite awkward, standing by the door fiddling with my hands whilst witnessing the exchange, watching with bated breath as Bilbo desperately tried to end the conversation, then also for one to say something that would set the other off. And if my guesses were correct, that was going to happen relatively soon.

At this point Gandalf’s demeanour had shifted from quiet, obvious frustration to one of exasperated amusement. “ Well, you know my name, although you don’t remember I belong to it. I’m Gandalf!” He practically cried. “And Gandalf means…” he gave the hobbit a small but endearing smile. “..me!”

Recognition flashed across Bilbo’s face as his eyes flickered over the tall wizard, and a smile slowly grew on his face. “Not… Gandalf, the wandering wizard who made such excellent fireworks! I remember those! They used to go up like great lilies and snapdragons and laburnums of fire and hang in the twilight all evening!” He emphasised with a few friendly jabs of his finger. “Hah! Old Took used to have them on Mid-Summer’s Eve!”

From where he was stood almost next to me, I watched as he paused, looking Gandalf up and down. Realising what he was about to say next, I side-eyed him with a warning glare, but he took no notice, his attention far too fixated on the wizard.

“I had no idea you were still in business.” He regarded with a frown, and I let out a small sigh of disappointment. Looking off into the distance for a moment to spare myself the second-hand embarrassment of the exchange to come, I glanced back at Gandalf, only to find he had been staring at me the whole time. My eyes widened, and I suddenly found the grass under my feet extremely interesting.

Feeling the burning intensity of Gandalf’s eyes shift elsewhere, I looked back up to find him giving Bilbo a rather scathing look. “And where else should I be?” He demanded, giving the hobbit a small fright with his tone.

Bilbo stiffened. “Well…” he sputtered, blabbering a few more half-words as he gestured around him with his pipe awkwardly, eyes wide. Trailing off, he decided to instead stuff the pipe back in his mouth, finishing his sheepish parade of sounds with a loud clearing of his throat, taking a deep heave from the smoke.

“Well, I’m pleased to find you remember something about me,” Gandalf regarded with another sigh. “even if it’s only my fireworks.” His expression shifted as swiftly as he passed his staff between his hands. “Well then, that’s decided. It will be very good for you all!” he exclaimed with a grin, wagging his finger at us and the rapidly paling hobbit. “And most amusing for me. I shall inform the others.” He concluded with a small, amused bow of his head.

“Wait, us-?!”  I exclaimed, almost stepping forwards in shock.

“– Inform the who? What? No! No, no!” Bilbo interrupted my sudden exclamation, storming back up the steps to the circular door. “We do not want any adventures here, thank you!” he cried, jabbing at the ground with a thunderous look. “Not today! I suggest you try somewhere over the hill, or across the water!” He continued, waving his finger in every direction that would take the old man far away from his home. Grasping the golden door knob, he swung around, about to yell something else, before deciding to end his tirade early. “Good morning!” He half-cried, and he stormed into the house.

Apart from the usual sounds of the birds and rustling leaves, silence blanketed the front steps of Bag End. Kay and I were leaning forwards slightly, having bent over to watch the hobbit storm through the doorway. However, the noise of someone clearing their throat had the two of us shooting up, straightening our backs as we turned to the wizard still stood expectantly by the gate.

“And here I was wondering about the day I would come across the two of you.” He proclaimed, settling where he stood as he finally spoke to us.

As if waking from a trance, I let out a loud “HUH?”. All Kay could do was lightly whack me on the shoulder as Gandalf blinked in surprise.

“Though…” he trailed off, flickering his grey-blue eyes between us. “You are not entirely what I expected.”

It was Kay’s turn to act confused as she made an odd noise in the back of her throat, and Gandalf swiftly went to reply.

“You look at me as if I am as familiar as an old cousin, yet I only recognise you by your faces alone.” He began, changing the subject. We only got more confused.

“Have you seen us walking around or something?” I blurted whilst my face scrunched in bafflement. Unconsciously, I took a glance around, as if I was about to spot a hiding place that the wizard could have sprung out of.

“No, no.” He chortled, taking his time to admire the scenery around him with a fond eye. “I haven’t been here in quite some time, I’m afraid. But it seems you both have certainly settled in.” He gestured up and down at us. “The last time I experienced a dream where you were present, you were wearing some awfully odd clothes.” We both glanced with wide eyes at each other, and Gandalf raised a brow. “Sometimes you were here, other times in a very strange place – otherworldly, in my opinion.”

All I could do was stare. There was a weird mix of emotions floating around inside me – a mixture of shock, excitement and suspicion. The latter not so much, because this was Gandalf we were talking about here. Except for the dream part, that weirded me out a little. In the end I barely managed a small shrug. I was at a loss for words.

Though that was broken when Kay piped up next to me. “… Youuu could say that.” She replied with a few light nods. Suddenly her face contorted to one of alarm. “Wait, you dreamt about us?!?!”

At this reveal, Gandalf narrowed his eyes. “Why are you here? If I may ask.” He interrogated firmly, avoiding Kay’s question.

I took a moment to consider my next words – and figured only the truth was the best way. “…Honestly? We could ask you the same thing.” I answered, albeit the nervousness in my voice was quite prominent as I wondering if I had done the right thing. “We didn’t really have a choice, nor did we know this would happen. We just, you know, appeared out the blue from the sky.”

“Out of the blue?” Gandalf repeated amusedly, then glanced up at the cerulean sky. “Quite literally, I take it.” He hummed, and gestured to the door with his staff. “Does he know?”

“He does.” I replied, nodding firmly. “We figured it would be a bit unfair hiding things from the one person who kept us alive and has looked after us this whole time. We kinda owe him our lives.”

Nodding with a low hum, Gandalf seemed satisfied. “And what do you know?”

That caught us off guard.

“What do you mean?” Kay questioned, puzzled but wary.

He tilted his head as he looked at us. “You know who I am, despite us having never met in person. And I am yet to reveal what this journey entails, yet you seem calm and I dare say prepared for this. And along with the vague visions that were conjured as I dreamt, I am therefore led to believe,” He levelled us with a look. “that you may know more than you let on.”

My mouth bobbed open and shut, not to similar to a fish as I absorbed the reality of Gandalf’s statement. ‘He knows.’ Was all my mind managed to conjure. ‘Of course he knows, he’s Gandalf, for Christ’s sake!’

Blinking, a moment passed as I attempted to get a word out, until my throat decided to conjure the oddest sounds as I tried to put together the words. “Mmmmmmmnnyyeeeaaaaahummmhaaawwww-HURK!!!” Kay had elbowed me in the ribs – hard.

“The answer isn’t hum and haw, though we may have an overall idea.” Kay stated as I keeled over with a groan. “But we can’t say much without our throats literally closing up.”

Gandalf squinted at her, his free hand reaching up to absentmindedly stroke at his beard. “You cannot say a word?”

“Barely.” I wheezed with a cough, attempting to straighten up despite the protests of my now-sore ribs. “I mean, we’ve managed to say a few things, but most of the time we can say it as long as we don’t think about it too much – if we prepare to tell anyone, it seems to alert something that doesn’t want us saying anything that might change things. But it’s really random and hard to explain without it sounding like there’s a thousand plot holes.” My mouth was moving a mile a minute as the words tumbled out.

At this point I was practically ready to tell Gandalf everything, the words explaining my theories having been ready to spill out of my mouth for months.

“We keep seeing things.” I carried on without a thought, almost relieved at the fact that I could tell someone who had the ability to possibly understand whatever the hell we were saying. “Getting chased by weird creatures, I threw a pillow at a literal shadow creature – that’s appearing more often than not lately – an-and I just want to know what’s going on.” I pleaded, shoulders slumped as I felt the exhaustion of dealing with the last year and a half’s events catch up with me.

The wizard stared. “Intriguing.” He muttered. “You truly haven’t got a clue?”

“No!” I groaned, the frustration of everything flowing over. “And we want to find out why.”

He continued to stroke his beard with a low grumble. “I must say, this is something I cannot leave behind.” He stated, seemingly almost speaking to himself. “But whether I’ll be allowed to take you both with me to figure out why, is an answer we must leave until tomorrow.” He explained with a pointed look, that I thought I somewhat understood.

From deep within Bag End, Kay and I heard our names echo throughout, reaching our ears to the still-open front door. Cringing slightly, we both looked inside at the sound of footsteps drawing closer.

“Well I must be off.” Gandalf announced, and we turned back to watch him readjust the front top of his robe slightly, before gripping his staff. “We’ll see what happens soon enough.” He suggested cryptically, before Bilbo’s frustrated face appeared at the other end of the hallway.

Desperate, I quickly spun towards the wizard. “Can we come?” I breathed, the words escaping quicker than I could think. “We’re not useless despite what they’ll think! There’s a lot we could bring to the table if you just give us a chance?” I pleaded.

Hissing our names, the hobbit strode forward, grasping the door as he hurriedly beckoned us in whilst regarding the wizard with a wary but thunderous look. The wizard paid him no mind, deeply furrowing his brows as he regarded my words with a suspicious glint in his eye.

“We shall see.” Was all I got in response before a raging hobbit seethed my name, Kay already having retreated to his side.

Seeing that this was a battle that wasn’t going to be won, I reluctantly followed, disappointedly glancing at Gandalf before turning our backs. Bilbo called out about the wizard coming for dinner some other time – the two of us figured he was barely aware that he was doing so, and with that, the green door swiftly slammed shut. Bilbo fumbled with the bolt as he slid it into place with a snap. Finally achieving so, he turned to rest his back against the wood, eyes closing with a relieved sigh whilst he leant his head back.

A moment of silence passed, the hobbit settling as he seemed to be in the clear, until a muffled scraping noise near his feet filled the quiet hallway. Moment disturbed, Bilbo’s eyes immediately snapped back open, the tenseness straightening his spine once again. He jerked away from the door, almost like he had been prodded with a hot iron, as he stared down at the source of the jarring noise.

Ears wiggling slightly, he leant over, his back to us, before he shot back up with a furious glimmer morphing over his features. Storming over to the small circular window to the right of the door, he stood up on his toes, peering through the panes to try and catch a glimpse of the assailant.

He got his answer soon enough, when the silhouette of Gandalf sprang into view, casting a shadow into the hobbit hole. Stumbling back in surprise, Bilbo was caught in the arms of Kay before he would send himself sprawling onto the floor. All three of us stared at the window, a hush washing over us as we peered at the distorted image of Gandalf’s face as his gaze glowered through the glass. His eye twitched once, and with a flurry of robes, he vanished from view.

Scrambling to his feet, Bilbo dashed into the parlour over to the larger window, the two of us following suit, bending over to squish our heads together as we all tried to peer out at the wizards retreating back. His humming flowed through the air as he leant down to swing the miniature gate open, strolling down the path with a happy tune, until the edge of his cloak and the point of his hat disappeared round the bend.

I backed up until the ceiling was high enough, and stood to my full height, the events of the last five minutes hitting me full force as I stared blankly at the chandelier hanging in front of my face. Kay was the same, and we watched as Bilbo stared at the windowsill, scrunch his nose up with a loud sniff, then storm off into the kitchen without a word.

As soon as he disappeared, I practically deflated. With a roll of her shoulders and a few clicks of her back, Kay shuffled over to the armchairs that sat by the unlit fireplace, flopping down on it with a loud huff.

“I think I need to lie down.” She half muttered with a groan, barely glancing up at me as I collapsed on the chair opposite. “I cant believe we just met Gandalf.”

Nodding, I remained silent, staring at the small fraying threads of the rug beneath my feet as my mind raced through what just happened. I felt Kay’s eyes on me at my lack of an answer.

“What is it?” She questioned, and I figured she had seen my face cringing at the floor.

Glancing up at her, my eyes filled with worry. “Do you think he heard those weird noises I made?” I asked apprehensively.

She deadpanned. “Yes.” She stated. “I’m pretty sure the most prominent thing he’ll remember from our first meeting is you attempting to sound like every animal on Old McDonald’s farm.”

I groaned loudly, my whole body cringing as I brought my knees up, shoving my face into them as I slapped at my head.

“I mean, you could always Obliviate him once you learn how to?” She offered jokingly.

“I can’t do thatttt.” I whined, voice muffled as I shoved my face further into my knees, not caring if the pressure would leave my face red for the next few minutes. “What if the Middle Earth equivalent of Jesus appears and puts me in Jesus-prison for accidentally completely wiping the memories of one of their mini-gods??”

Kay huffed, unable to contain her laughter as she chucked a cushion at me, the object bouncing off the top of my head as I raised it, watching the projectile ricochet onto the floor.

Hair ruffled and sticking about after being assaulted by the cushion, I squinted with bleary eyes at Kay as weird shapes danced in my vision after being pressed to the bones of my knees. A thought came to mind, and I opened my mouth, before the thuds of large feet sounded through the wooden floor, Bilbo storming through the archway from the kitchen not a moment later.

“…nd what on Earth did I ask him to tea for!” he muttered to himself as he stared at the floor, flushed cheeks puffed out slightly as he chowed down on a seed-cake. Stopping in the middle of the room in front of us, he scoured the room, not acknowledging us in the slightest as he twisted and turned on the spot.

Darting his eyes across our forms, he flinched slightly as he seemed to only then notice our presence, before continuing on his search.

“You haven’t seen my Engagement Tablet anywhere, have you?” He asked, headspace still elsewhere as he marched into the entrance hall. “I need to write everything down before I forget.”

“Can’t you just use the calendar?” I called out, leaning over the arm of my chair as I tried to spot the hobbit behind me. My eyes landed on him, observing as he stopped in his tracks to swivel towards the calendar we had him nail to the wall when we had found it just this morning.

He flailed a bit, raising his arm up and down whilst pointing a finger at it, scanning the paper rapidly before shaking his head distractedly. “No, no.” He muttered, turning away to stride back into the parlour whilst taking another ferocious bite out of the seedcake. “All plans are on my tablet, I need my tablet.” He rambled to himself as he entered the kitchen. Coming to a stop in front of the straw basket that he was yet to empty, he let out a grunt. “Oh, for Yavanna’s sake I forgot the fish! Forget it I’ll go tomorrow. My head’s far too full to run into that damned wizard again.”

Once again, Bilbo frantically disappeared as he ranted to himself, going further this time – presumably to his bedroom, where the sounds of rustling, thuds of things being dropped and drawers being pulled open vibrated through the walls, along with frustrated complaints about Gandalf thrown about as he continued his search.

Kay and I looked at each other, and a moment passed between us, before we scrambled to our feet. Stumbling into the middle of the room, I tried not to trip over the cushion that still laid on the floor. Facing Kay, we both nodded at each other, and swiftly vanished to our respective bedrooms.

Swinging the door shut behind me, I grabbed the last few remains of my belongings that I had left out as to not rouse any suspicion from Bilbo as to why it looked like we were spontaneously moving out. Hauling out the large backpack that I had shoved to the back of my wardrobe, I swung it onto the floor, unclasped the straps and lifted the lid open, loosening the leather drawstring holding the opening together wide enough for me to fit down the steps that looked like they led into the floor.

Once fully opened, I clambered to my feet, and began pulling the clothes the bag had been hidden behind from the hangers, their wooden edges clattering against the back panel of the wardrobe they swung against as I speedily pulled each piece from them, before chucking it all into the awaiting entrance of my bag.

After hearing the thump of the final piece hit the bottom of the steps, I proceeded to scour my room, pulling open drawers and using my wand to light up the underneath of any furniture that something could have rolled or been stored under.

Satisfied that everything had been packed, I climbed down into the bag, hopping over the pile of clothes and random objects that had been thrown on top. The next thirty minutes was spent reorganising, making sure everything had its place.

Just as I was about to hang up the last skirt I had laying around, I jumped slightly at the sound of my name being called. Peering out of the tiny hallway leading to the two tiny rooms, I looked up to see Kay, who signalled with a thumbs-up that she was done and ready.

Giving everything a once-over, I returned the thumbs-up with my own, and held my hands out, catching the bag she chucked down, storing it in the corner of the main room for tomorrow.

Clambering up the ladder and out onto the floor, I sealed my own bag back up, before shoving it back into the corner of my now-barren wardrobe. With a final scan, I turned to Kay, and let out a breath as I gave her a nod. We were ready for tomorrow.

And honestly? I was fucking terrified.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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< Chapter 22 // Chapter 23 // Chapter 24 >

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[runningfrom2am]

achilles heel - VI: i. cheated. too.

summary:

Grace is the very opposite of her brother in every way. when she finally moves onto campus at UNC Chapel Hill, she feels like she gets to be her own person, make her own friends, and hopefully start a promising career in the museum industry, and maybe, one day, get married to her high school sweetheart and live the American dream for herself. Rafe Cameron however, upon their very first meeting, throws a wrench in her very perfect plan.

tags/warnings:

rafe cameron x fem!oc, rafe is giving very much homewrecker, fanon!rafe (kinda), college!au, friends to lovers, slow-burn (maybe?), minimal oc description, drug and alcohol use, mostly unedited, violence, fighting, (these tags are not exhaustive, lmk if i should add anything!)

wc: 3.2k

my master list

series masterlist

requests (temporarily closed)

February 3rd, 2019

Rafe and Grace didn't lose contact again after that, he wasn't about to let that happen. She did still go to class, but he missed that smile he'd seen on Sunday- that side of her that was so carefree, so happy. He hadn't expected that vandalizing Nate's car would cure her heartbreak, but part of him hoped it would. He discovered that he would do anything to help, and he spent his free time throughout the week either texting her or thinking of what to do the next time they hung out. They didn't have plans, but he couldn't wait. And for once, he was almost completely free on a Saturday, so now is as good a time as any.

R: gracie, any plans today?

He sends the text and goes back to making lunch, trying to ignore how nervous it made him. It wasn't a risky text by any means, what was he scared of? Her saying she's busy? It's not a date, he knows that. It's just friends hanging out to keep her from spiraling back into a pit of depression, he didn't want to let that happen.

G: Just the usual, I'm trying to get some reading done but it's hard to focus

G: how about you?

Rafe's phone buzzes twice on the counter as the messages come in and he quickly grabs it, abandoning his sandwich-making efforts.

R: same

R: I'm thinking about going to the driving range later, want to come?

G: golfing? by yourself?

R: not if you come with me?

G: I don't know how to golf but I promise I'll be a good spectator

R: you'll just make me look like a pro 😎

G: 😐😐

R: i'll pick you up at 2?

G: See you then, Tiger Woods &lt;3

Grace was surprised when Rafe showed up with a truck instead of his bike, but it would make sense if he had to bring his own clubs. The weather was nice that day, there were hardly any clouds in the sky but it was still crisp enough out for Grace to wear a sweater without the intentions of taking it off again until she got home.

By the time they arrived at the driving range, there was a decent amount of people there. With minimal snow and mostly friendly weather, a lot of people golfed year round in North Carolina, and Rafe was no exception.

He jumps out of the truck after parking to grab his clubs, and Grace grabbed her tote bag and slung it over her shoulder before following after him.

"You ever been here before?" Rafe asks, golf bag over his shoulder as they walk up to the entrance.

Grace shakes her head, looking out to the green and all the yard markers scattered over the lawn. "I think Nate came here sometimes. He likes golfing."

"Well, welcome, then." Rafe replies, holding the door for her and ignoring her second comment about her ex.

"Thanks, I'm excited." She smiles in response, passing him to enter but waiting for him to talk to the employee at the counter.

"Welcome in! What can I do for y'all today?" The young girl asks, Grace following her friend up while he places his clubs down and leans against the counter.

"Hey, yeah, can I get two twenty baskets please? And a club for her?" Rafe asks, Grace quickly shaking her head as the employee is already turning to grab the supplies he asked for. "What? You don't want to try?" He turns his attention to Grace now, slightly laughing.

"No, I'm not a golfer." Grace smiles nervously, pulling the sleeves of her sweatshirt over her palms.

The girl working pauses, looking between the two of them. "No then?"

"Nah, I'll take 'em. She might change her mind." Rafe insists, winking in Grace's direction before taking the baskets and club, handing it over to Grace.

Rafe paid, and then the girl buzzed open the door out to the driving platform for them to enter. Down at the end there was three open spots in a row, and Rafe lead Grace down all the way to the edge so they weren't surrounded on all sides by other people.

Grace placed down the one basket she carried over for Rafe, and sat down in a chair against the wall, ready to watch.

"C'mon, Gracie, you're not even gonna try?" Rafe chuckles, watching her as he's in the process of pulling out his club.

Grace shakes her head, smiling up at him. "I'm more than content to watch. Thank you, though."

"You'll change your mind- I know you will." He says, a smug grin crossing over his face.

Grace rolls her eyes fondly, then watched as Rafe tee'd up to make his first swing. Grace doesn't know much about golf, but she could see the confidence in Rafe's posture and his subsequent swing, and the way the muscles in his arms flexed and made his veins prominent. The ball flew off onto the green and landed somewhere she didn't see- her eyes were trained on him.

"Good hit!" Grace smiles, clapping for him and crossing her legs.

"Thank you." Rafe turns to her, taking a dramatic bow which makes her laugh. "Alright, your turn." He's already placing another ball on the tee.

"No!" Grace's laugh continues, shaking her head.

"What if I fumbled a few times first?"

"No, then people will definitely be watching." Grace giggles.

"Oh, come on. No one cares. You gotta start somewhere." Rafe pleads.

"Are you just going to bug me until I agree to try?"

"Yes ma'am." He nods in response, leaning on his club now.

"Okay, just one." Grace relents, standing up and placing her bag on the ground.

"That's what I like to hear!" Rafe grins, taking a step back as she grabs her driver, smaller than his so she can actually reach the ball from a decent distance. "Just, uh, try not to out-do me, that would be kind of a hit to my ego."

"Ha, ha, Rafe." Grace replies sarcastically, smile glued to her cheeks as she rolls her eyes, awkwardly adjusting the grip in her hands.

"Need help?" He offers, making an effort to not laugh at her obvious discomfort. Not that the laughter would come from a place of maliciousness, but just that she looks really cute. It would make him a little more comfortable if he could, but he's not sure which is worse; making her feel embarrassed, or having to explain himself.

"Maybe, yeah..." She agrees hesitantly, and he's already reaching out to adjust her hands.

"So just hold it like this..." He explains, placing her fingers in the right places. "And stand with your legs shoulder width apart." Rafe steps over next to her now to demonstrate in a way she can easily reflect. "Yeah, like that, then, line up, pull your elbow back and up like this-" He explains, holding an imaginary club and lifting his arms back, before swinging them down and forward, making a popping sound with his lips and then pretending to watch the ball fly with a hand over his eyebrows. "Got it?"

"I think so." Grace smiles, nodding slightly and looking down at the white ball again, lining up as Rafe takes a step back.

"Don't forget to imagine it's Nate's dick." Rafe adds.

"Rafe!" Grace laughs, turning to him and relaxing her posture again.

"No, you're right- sorry." He raises his hands. "That would make it like, a lot smaller and harder to hit."

"Oh, god- don't." Grace laughs as she looks away, an embarrassed pink flush coating her cheeks.

"Am I right?" Rafe teases her, his sole intentions being in making her glance at him with that slightly embarrassed but extremely genuine smile again.

"Rafe, I'm not telling you." She insists, trying to line up again.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"I'll hit you with this- how about that instead?" Grace turns to him, and yes, there it is. She's threatening him, sure, but not seriously, and if that's what it takes for her to look at him like that, he'd take the risk of being hit with a golf club every time.

"Okay, yup. Subject dropped." He agrees, smiling back at her. He just can't help it.

"Thank you..." Grace mutters, head shaking fondly at him. She's grateful now that she can talk about Nate without crying, but maybe that's just the Rafe effect.

After a moment of silence and a deep breath, she swings and misses- chipping the club onto the turf just next to the tee. "Oh- oops!"

"Just warming up?" Rafe chuckles, sitting down in the seat she previously occupied.

"Yeah, that was a practice swing. I've got it now." Grace agrees, lining up again. "Pressures on now for real."

"You're good." Rafe reminds her, trying not to stare too intensely. If she could feel his eyes boring into her skin she might mess it up again, so instead he sticks to her clothes, and the way her blue sweater is so clearly oversized but somehow fits her just right, tucked into the waistband of her jeans.

She swings while he's distracted, actually making contact with the ball this time. It wasn't a perfect hit, it flew off to the side but not very far. "I did it!" She grins, turning immediately to Rafe to see his reaction.

"Hey, not bad, Gracie!" He smiles, standing up again and reaching out instinctively to run his hand over her shoulder. "You're a natural."

"Okay, that's a bit dramatic." Grace laughs.

"Few more swings and you'll be perfect. Trust me." Rafe smiles, grabbing another ball for her.

They take turns for a while, and Grace only misses several more times before she actually gets the hang of it.

She's lining up again, feeling confident now as she stares down at the ball, swaying her hips back and forth to adjust her stance. Rafe, once again is watching with a proud smile on his face, arms crossed as he stands a few feet away. He happens to look up when he hears the buzzer for the gate open, a group of boys filing in. Standard, of course, and nothing to take note of until he recognizes one of them as Nate. Not only that, but Nate with his arm draped over a girls shoulder as she laughed at something he said. No doubt in Rafe's mind that it wasn't funny.

He had to get Grace out of here before she saw him. She swings which draws his attention again, and he's quickly gathering their stuff. "Hey, uh, I'm pretty hungry. Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah, actually, I could go for a coffee." Grace nods, turning to him and he's already holding her bag out to her. "Thanks.." She chuckles, dropping it back over her shoulder and grabbing a basket before turning towards the way they came in.

"Just go around that way." Rafe stops her, standing in front of her and taking the basket from her hands. "I'll drop off our stuff and meet you at the truck in a few, yeah?"

"Are you sure? I can come with you, you'll have a handful." Grace says, reaching out for the basket again.

"I'm sure. Just go around that way." He nods, pointing behind her to the emergency exit.

"Oh, okay. I'll meet you outside." Grace agrees, smiling at him thankfully before turning and taking the other exit which, thankfully, wasn't far.

Rafe turns as soon as the door shuts behind her, dropping the basket on the ground and picking up his club again.

He's pacing quickly over to where the boys and Nate's arm candy decided to set up, scowl clear as day on his face. "Nate!" He calls out as he gets closer, only allowing a moment for Nate to recognize him before he's tossing the driver into his left hand and swinging with his right, connecting his fist directly with that jerks nose.

Everyone in the immediate vicinity gasps as Rafe shakes out his fist, already cramping from the tension and impact. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" The girl asks, immediately reaching out for Nate who pushes her off.

"Don't touch me." He mutters, wiping his nose with his wrist, blood staining the crisp folded edges of the sleeve.

Rafe is staring at him as all his friends look between the two of them in shock. "I knew it was you who fucked with my car. I fucking knew it!" Nate says, raising his voice now as he glared at Rafe, staring him up and down.

"Maybe it was someone else who can see how much of a shitbag you are, have you ever considered that?" Rafe spits at him. "I bet you haven't, actually, because the only thing you can literally think about is yourself. You're a selfish prick."

"No, I know it was you." Nate shakes his head, scoffing. "What did I even do? You're the one who she cheated on me with! I'm innocent in this, not that either of you can get that through your thick skulls to realize that I am the one who was wronged."

"I've never touched her." Rafe says through gritted teeth. "If you knew her or cared about her you would have believed that when it came from her."

"Bullshit." Nate replies. "Anyway, tell your new girlfriend that we're even now."

"What does that mean?" Rafe ticks his jaw at this, knuckles white as they're wrapped around the grip of his golf club.

Nate laughs, shaking his head. "God, of course I'd have to spell it out for you..." He mutters. "Okay, fine. Tell her I... Cheated... Too." He says it slowly, mockingly, and Rafe sees red.

Before he processes anything, he's swinging the club at the boy in front of him, taking him down and then swinging again as he stands over him. He's quickly shoved back this time, dropping the club and catching a glimpse of one of the employees coming out to intervene just has he feels something hit his face. He's quick to pick up the club and run back, looking over his shoulder as he approaches his bag. He grabs it, throwing it over his shoulder and bolting out the emergency exit after Grace.

Grace is standing by the truck, reading a book she had in her bag, thinking to herself that she's glad she brought it just in case when she looks up at the sound of feet pounding into pavement. Rafe is running towards her, looking frantically over his shoulder.

"Rafe? What happened?" She asks, brow furrowed as she quickly closes her book. He throws his stuff in the bed of the truck and heads to the door.

"Hurry, just get in." He never intended to lash out on Nate like that, in all honestly he didn't even expect to throw the first punch- but that asshole made it impossible for him to resist.

"Are you okay? Oh my god, you're bleeding!" Grace exclaims, looking away from him to dig through her bag.

"I'm fine, I'm good." Rafe says, backing out of the parking spot and driving off quickly.

"No, no, it looks bad. Pull over somewhere." Grace tells him, pulling a couple napkins out of her bag and reaching out to hold them up to the cut on his jaw.

"I'm fine." Rafe says again, turning his head away. "I'll get you home and I'll deal with it."

Grace sighs, dropping her hands down again.

For the whole drive back to campus, it was silent. Grace didn't know what to say, despite having several questions, and Rafe didn't know how to say he was sorry or even explain what happened at all. He knew she wouldn't like it.

They pull up to the dorms and she gets out, grabbing her bag again and staring at him expectantly. "Get out."

"No, no I've got to-"

"Rafe, get out and come with me. We've got a first aid kit in our bathroom."

Rafe knows from the look on her face to not argue, sighing to himself and turning off the truck before getting out and following her upstairs.

She quickly uses her keycard to open the door, and pushes it open wide to let Rafe in with her. "Hey, Grace! How was your-" Her roommate starts to ask, stopping as she lays eyes on Rafe. "Oh! Holy shit, are you okay?"

"Olivia, this is Rafe." She introduces her quickly before Rafe can once again insist that he's fine. "Is the first aid kit still in the bathroom?"

"Yeah, I haven't touched it." Olivia stammers, looking shocked now.

"Thanks." Grace nods at her, dragging Rafe down the hall and into the bathroom by his hand. The way her palm is stretched around his is tense, he wished it didn't have to be that way.

She shuts the door behind them, digging around for the kit and pulling it out and opening it quickly. "I don't think you'll need stitches." She tells him, unwrapping gauze and alcohol wipes.

"I'm sorry." Rafe mumbles, surprised even to hear it from himself.

Grace pauses, looking up at him. Her eyes are soft again, she looks like herself, though the crease in her forehead has morphed from one of worry to one of confusion. "What? Don't be sorry."

"I am." Rafe replies, avoiding eye contact with her now.

"Well... What happened?" She asked, hesitantly continuing what she was doing.

"I, uh, Nate came in, and then I just-" Rafe explains and winces as Grace wipes off his cheek with a clean cloth. "I don't know... I didn't mean to, I guess."

"Is he okay?" Grace asks quietly.

"He'll be fine." Rafe clenches his jaw and she just nods a little bit. "Why do you even care?"

"He's a person, Rafe." She replies, delicately as possible trying to clean up the wound. "I mean, I know he hurt me, but that was superficial. I've loved him for years. I'd never want to see him in pain. But it happens, I suppose."

Rafe chews on the inside of his cheek as she talks. "You still love him?"

"Of course." She mumbles, almost embarrassed. "For now. One day that will change, I know that, but it's difficult to move on from the only love you've ever known."

"I'm sorry." Rafe says again. "I... I didn't know, I didn't mean to, I just wanted to try and talk some sense into him but he was with another girl and-"

"It's okay." Grace gives him a small smile. "Just... don't make a habit out of beating up my ex boyfriend, yeah?"

"One and done." Rafe promises, relaxed immensely by the forgiveness on her face.

"Thank you." She grins to herself, grabbing the alcohol wipe and brushing it over the area. "It's stopped bleeding, which is good. Now that it's cleaned up it doesn't look too bad."

"You should see the other guy." Rafe jokes, a slight tinge of pain in his tone as the alcohol gets into the cut.

"Oh, I'm sure." Grace chuckles, shaking her head. "Can I be honest with you for a sec? And you have to promise you'll never tell a soul."

"Of course." Rafe nods, smile fading as he's not sure what she'll say.

"You were kinda right." Grace blushes, giggling as she places a bandage over his cheek. From the confused expression on his face, she knows she'll have to explain. "It's... It's kinda small, I think." She whispers, face red now.

Rafe laughs, dropping his head back. "I knew it! I could just tell. And I knew you wouldn't have been embarrassed like that if I wasn't right."

"Shh, okay- never tell anyone." Grace giggles, holding a finger up to her lips. "I didn't tell you that, okay?"

"Nope, I didn't hear a thing." Rafe says, mock zipping his lips at that as he smiles down at the girl in front of him.

taglist: @newbooksmell777, @tahliac11, @slut4drudy, @madelynie, @angelw33dz, @whore-4-drewstarkey , @winterrrnight, @sadfury, @bookishbabyyy , @madelynie , @totalswag , @sadfury @fullfledgedemo @rafemotherfuckingcameron, @urfaveluvr , @hxnnah-397 , @s-we-e-t-t-ea , @saccharinesammie , @redhead1180 , @chenslucy

[carnivorousdoe]

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐮𝐫𝐥 ◞✧

spell out your url using song titles that can describe your muse, then tag as many people as there are letters in your url.

tagged by my sweeties — @etheirys & @emahriel ♡

since there are quite a lot of letters in my url I will instead be going off of my muse’s / oc’s name, ‘fèidh’.

F — Fight Them Soft. - “Soon they will be here to take me away from my home. I will use my garden army to hide you all from them.”

È — Eat Your Young (Bekon’s Choral Version). - “You can’t buy this finesse. Let me see the heat get to you.”

I — I Invoke Cursed Winds.

D — The Dreaming. - “See the light ram through the gaps in the land. You find them in the road. See the light bounce off the rocks to the sand.”

H — Haunted House. - “Now I’m the fog forever in full collaboration with the weather. I’m not free at all.”

(If you wish to do this to please feel free to take from this post !! and likewise if you don’t wish to but I’ve tagged you, please just ignore me ahh): @hylorien, @zordem, @mercymaker, @underdark-dreams & @oyasumikaiju

[shieldrival]

⊰ ＬＯＯＫ　ＡＴ　ＭＥ　Ｉ　ＥＸＩＳＴ. ･ﾟ ━ ✧･ﾟ ; independent , mutuals only , sporadic activity , semi-selective , oc / crossover friendly , headcanon heavy , mixed game & manga based ; ' 𝐇𝐎𝐏 ‘ from 𝙿𝙾𝙺𝙴𝙼𝙾𝙽 𝚂𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳 & 𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙴𝙻𝙳 ━ !

✧･ﾟ ↪ 𝙰 𝚂𝚃𝚄𝙳𝚈 𝙸𝙽 ; NO LONGER LIVING IN THE SHADOW OF OTHERS , OVERCOMING ONES INSECURITES , COMING INTO ONES SELF . FINDING NEW DREAMS .

✧･ﾟ ↪ CARRD. ✧･ﾟ ↪ BLOGROLL. ✧･ﾟ ↪ PSC. ✧･ﾟ ↪ MEMES.✧･ﾟ ↪ link.

･ﾟ ━ ↪ Written by CIPHER. 21+ she/they. / E S T - F E B ２０２ 4 .

first off thank you, you beautiful person for taking the time to read my rules ilu ♥ !

✧･ﾟ ━ BASIC INFO: just let me start off with that i have a full time job which results in me being exhausted & not having the energy to rp, so my activity does often vary, plus i have a few other blogs so i wont always be here :’)

i love crossovers & oc’s! so please if you are from another fandom/o.c don’t be afraid to approach me! i love rping with really anyone.

i don’t accept m!a’s.

please do inform me if there is anything you wish me to tag, i wouldn’t want to trigger anyone.

i will most likely unfollow you if you don’t trim your threads or if you post something that makes me uncomfortable, sorry.

i will not tolerate hate, all hate will be deleted.i have a discord & im willing to give it out to mutuals upon ask.i dont do starters for new followers but i will post starter calls on occasion.

✧･ﾟ ━ ROLEPLAYING & THREADING: I struggle with both physical & mental issues which also tend to make my activity wonky , so i apologize in advice if i’m slow :’)i only rp with mutuals !

my askbox is always welcome to everyone whether it’s for me or Hop, i think its also a great way to get a thread going between our muses. though if you send me a message that makes me uncomfortable i will mostly likely delete it.

please do not reblog ask if you wish to respond to it, put it in a new text post !forgive me if can be selective at times, it is not because i don’t wish to rp with you or that im ignoring, its usually because i do not have the muse to reply to you and i dont want to give you a force reply!absolutely no god modding please its no fun for your rp partner and i will drop our thread if you do.

✧･ﾟ ━ SHIPPING: This blog is multi-singleship , which means i will only ship with one of each character but there's no limit to brotp shipping.Chemistry is the key to shipping !I swear on my soul i will NEVER force a ship on you

✧･ﾟ ━ GORE & SMUT:

gore is alright 100% okay with me. smut however is somehting im not super comfortable writing so there will not be a thing here ,. . . kissy stuff is okay though !

✧･ﾟ ━ ICONS:

i cropped & edited all my icons so please do not use them without permission.

[danigrayextendeduniverse]

This blog is a work in progress!

Hello! My name is Dani Gray, and welcome to the Dani Gray Extended Universe! What's the Dani Gray Extended Universe, or the DGEU? Well, it's basically where I put all my OCs and AUs for those OCs—I'm a writer with a lot of ideas, a lot of creativity, but I also like reusing OCs rather than making new ones (I make new OCs as well but I have a select few who are near and dear to my heart).

As this blog is fairly new, I'm still working on setting it up and introducing my characters (and also my main universe). I will be adding a list of some of my primary/most recurring characters underneath the read more below, but it'll be fairly underdeveloped. In the meantime, here's a few facts about me and a brief DNI:

Name: Dani Gray

Pronouns: Any neopronouns

DNI: racists, queerphobes, MAPs/pedophiles, roleplay blogs (asking a question is fine, but I don't use this blog to roleplay)

I reserve the right to block anyone and to ignore asks that I find inappropriate or that I don’t want to answer.

I'm a Tumblr veteran (been here for... a while) but I still struggle with what tags I should use when it comes to original content, so if you have any tips please let me know!

Recurring characters in the DGEU

Daniel Nation: Probably my first official OC who wasn't created for a fandom. The main character in my original story, he's got a lot of development and has been through so many changes. I'm absolutely enamored by him, he's my bestest boy.

Diana Bullock: Daniel's best friend and a general manic pixie dream girl (though that's not the role she plays). Was created around the same time as Daniel, they should not be separated by any means.

Cameron Scale: Daniel's partner! This character has definitely gone through a lot of changes, but the basic rundown for them is that they're a deaf activist.

Amanda Skies: Diana's girlfriend. Still being developed, she was originally supposed to be a mean girl and an antagonist. Not sure when her story changed, but very Amity Blight from The Owl House coded (though she was created way before The Owl House was even a show).

Adam Nation: Daniel's biological father who was originally supposed to die when Daniel was very young. Not sure when or why he came back to life, but his presence as a character definitely changed the direction of Daniel's story. A good father in every aspect, he's a school counselor.

Vincent Strange: Daniel's father and Adam's longest romantic partner. Not gonna lie, a lot of his inspiration came from Doctor Strange (hence the name and also a lot of his backstory). He's a surgeon, debating if I want to put him through an accident like in the Doctor Strange canon. In some universes he does have an accident, but in the main story he doesn't.

Indrid Cold: Surprisingly not the Mothman nor inspired by the character from TAZ: Ammesty (though I do love that podcast). Daniel's father and a late addition to Adam and Vincent's relationship, though the three of them have been friends for a long time. Indrid works as a museum tour guide and is very autistic about it. He's a silly, goofy daddy who loves Daniel to smithereens and cried on Daniel's first day of school.

Evelyn Kamiyama: Wasn't originally going to add her because she's not that recurring, but I love her too much to leave her out. Plus, she was very involved in Daniel's upbringing. Daniel's surrogate mother and the owner of a sushi restaurant. Absolute badass of a woman who takes no shit. Has a complicated relationship with her family but doesn't let that get in the way of how she treats Daniel. Also she and Adam are fuck buddies.

[mymelodyisme]

A friend and I were driving out late at night. It was dark and our only company was the music that was blaring from the car radio. We were a reasonable distance from our home out on surprisingly open land, but circled the area at least 8 times because a suspicious vehicle was following behind very closely, but never advanced close enough to determine a driver. When we least expected it, the car was gone and we were finally able to go home. We drove into the garage belonging to a large polished wooden modern home. My friend got out of the car and was setting stuff aside that she must have gotten from a trip. I felt watched, and paranoid. I looked towards the house door and found a void of darkness keeping my gaze. I called out to my oblivious friend insisting that someone or something was watching us from beyond the door, but as she turned to meet my worries, the door was shut as if it hadn’t been opened since we’d left. She dismissed my worries and continued to adjust the area reminding me that I can’t lounge in the car forever. So I got out, and immediately turned to face the door, afraid that those few seconds without a thought might have let something slip by. Half right, I noticed the door was open again and the darkness watched once more. Finding myself scared, and confused, I pleaded with my friend to face the door again just to ease my worry. One again, she did and it was as it had been the first time she looked.

After settling down inside, excusing the previous moments for a delirious fear of exhaustion, my friend and I made our way into the kitchen to make a light snack before greeting our beds. Tomorrow was to be an important day that family would be coming over and we would have to wake early. As my friend made our snack, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. A woman and an unidentifiable body, fighting, coming closer and closer to us. I jumped to my feet and looked to my friend, who seemed unbothered by the spectacle. Frantic, I asked her if she is seeing what is happening before our eyes. Before I could hear her reply the woman tosses the other’s body to the floor and pulls out a syringe quickly injecting it into the body. I rush towards them taking the syringe out with my bare hands, unable to properly comprehend the situation. Suddenly I’m startled again by the gentle hand of my friend who asks if I am alright, and, perhaps, I should just go to bed then. I look back at my hands, no one lies before me. The body, the strange woman, and the syringe vanished as though they were never there at all.

The next day my friend was no where to be found. My family had come over for a visit. The first to arrive was my aunt who sat me down alongside my sisters at a picnic table resting in the backyard. She pointed up to a building located atop the hill that overlooked our home and began to tell the story of how she and my mom had joined the local scouting group as kids. She reminisced about one special day in particular that was especially fond. As she began to explain that they attended the welcoming ceremony, a sudden change in atmosphere was brought to my attention. The building that sat on the hill no longer looked worn and aged, but new and lively displaying a long painted welcome sign. My aunts words echoed softly in the distance as children began to exit the building bustling with laughter and joy. Exiting joined by a crowd of your girls was the exact copy of my aunt when she was younger. There was no denying that it was her, but how could she be beside me, a middle-aged woman, and there, a child no older than 14. I turn to my aunt, the crowds growing larger with children and proud parents alike atop the hill, she begins to laugh as she describes that my mother was a victim of a horrible joke of fate that day. My mother, the younger sister, walked out of the building that day wearing large circular frames and glops of purple paint all over her person after having been in a quick incident before the ceremony began and way to late to fix the damage that had been done. Quickly, I look back to the hill to see the exact moment my mother walks out with the other children, covered in purple paint and quite unhappy with her predicament, all while my aunt’s laughter rung in the background of my thoughts.

I sat up that night watching television on the air mattress situated in the living room. Cartoons, both realistic and firmly animated merged into one show, similar to The Amazing World of Gumball, I figured. My sister sat up from the couch she had been resting on and look at the television then at me. She asked what I was laughing at and stares back at the television. I apologize for disturbing her and point that the show I was watching was unusual and yet very funny and invite her to watch with me. She looks back to me incredibly confused and insists that there’s nothing happening on the television because it’s not on. I look at it and see from my point of view that it is very much on, in fact, it illuminated her face each time she turned. She shakes her head and insists that I must be half asleep or something because it is definitely not on. And, as if almost instantly, the room darkens, and the television is shut off without so much as a movement from either of us, not that she was aware of it.

My two other sisters and I drove up to a large campus. It was clean and had a very dull look about it. Nearly everything was white, gray, or black with very few hints of blue shining through on the metal railings that led up to the campus cafeteria. My sisters were beginning their first day of high school and their first day within this new school respectively. I, on the other hand, was beginning my first day as a new staff member on the campus. Because the three of us had never set foot on this campus before, we were reasonably confused on where it was we were supposed to be headed. Situated around the cafeteria were large circular stone tables crowded by students who seemed to know exactly where they where and why. We chose to question the smallest group in the vicinity. A taller young man sat in the center of one of the tables leaning back having a conversation with a crowd of 5 other students. As if they sensed our arrival, the students parted creating a clear path towards the one who sat above them. Not very impressive up close but surprisingly confident, the young man tells us exactly where we need to go and how to get there. We thank him and go about getting prepared for the first class. Within no time at all, we are all ushered to a large amphitheater at the center of the school. It’s made clear that this is some sort of welcoming assembly for new students and staff. While listening to the principal lecture on about the pride and accomplishments of the school, I get this strong depressive feeling that not is all that it seems. Before I could understand what is happening, right behind the principal, as he speaks highly of the institute, flames roar high as night begins to set. Cloaked figures stand tall illuminated by the flames before them revealing them to be various staff members of the school. At the center of their affair stands the principal himself donning the same black robes mirroring the same self that speaks to the crowded room of students and staff. As the active version of the man speaks glories, his alternative self commits heinous crimes, screams fill the room almost loud enough to drown out his real voice. It is then I finally understand what it is that I am seeing. This plague that had bewitched my very senses disallowing my brain to decipher vision from reality is no longer a nonsensical misfortune. I realize that I have somehow acquired the ability to view both past and present simultaneously as they occur within the same liminal space. For whatever reason I was blessed with this curse, it is my burden and my reason of being that I must now put an end to what occurs in the darkness and flames of this school and its organization. I repeat to myself this very thought as the principal confides that I, unexplainably special, was chosen for a greater purpose and introduces me to the Society of Shadows.

[rebelwrites]

Winner Takes It All || Four Like The Lioness You Are

Charles Leclerc x Valentina Hendrix (OC)

Winner Takes It All Masterlist

Summary: When everything is going right there’s always gotta be something to cause the world come crashing down

Warnings: Heartache that’s all I’m saying

As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️ if you want tagging in future parts let me know ❤️

Nothing had sunk in yet, the trip to Italy felt like a complete dream. It was like I was floating on cloud nine and nothing could bring me down. Little did I know that within the next thirty minutes everything was going to change and my whole world would come crashing down.

Wandering into the kitchen I was instantly greeted with the smell of Mum’s cooking, causing my mouth to start watering. The counters were filled with all sorts of goodies, I couldn’t help myself as I reached for a slice of garlic but I was rewarded with a clip around the ear.

“Lascia stare il cibo, bambina. Leave the food alone, child” she scolded, placing her hands on my shoulders, ushering me out of the kitchen. “Vai a infastidire tuo padre e Pierre e vattene dalla mia cucina finché non ti chiamo. Go bother your father and Pierre and get out of my kitchen until I call you.”

Rolling my eyes at her I left her to it knowing better to get under her feet when she was cooking. Wandering into the living room I plonked myself on the sofa next to Pierre. There was an uncomfortable silence in the room, the TV was switched off and I could practically cut the tension with a knife.

“Someone better tell me what is going on?” I huffed, leaning forward resting my elbows on my knees.

“Nothing is going on.” Dad mumbled, refusing to make eye contact with me.

“Yeah because you and P are sat in silence, and if looks could kill Dad then you would be six fucking feet under.” I never spoke to Dad like this but this time I needed to. “Now can someone please explain to me why Mum is cooking an absolute feast and why you two look like someone has just shat in your cornflakes.”

The three of us sat there in silence for another 10 minutes until Dad finally broke the silence. He pushed himself to his feet taking a few short strides across the living room sitting next to me on the sofa, taking my hand in his.

“Sai quanto ti vogliamo bene. You know how much we love you.” he said softly, Cocking my brow at him silently telling him to continue. “We will be spending Christmas in Monaco this year rather than Italy.”

Knitting my brows together I tried to figure out why that would cause so much tension, I was trying to put the puzzle pieces together. Monaco was a gorgeous country and we spent many Christmases there.

That's when it hit me, the reason why we would be spending Christmas in Monaco and the reason I flew home the following day after my meeting at Alpha Tauri was because we weren't staying there for Christmas this year. Instantly I felt my blood run cold, as my eyes filled with tears. Whenever we spent Christmas in Monaco we always used to spend it with the Leclerc’s.

“Please tell me this is a joke?” I choked out, trying to hold back the sobs. I couldn’t spend two weeks with him, under the same roof, breathing the same air, there would be no escape for me. “Dad, please.” I whimpered. “Please tell me you are joking.”

I was greeted with silence.

“Fanculo a questo. Fuck this.” I spat, snatching my hand away from my dad, I couldn’t stay in this room any longer. Not with this bombshell that he has just dropped on me. “There is no way I am going to be spending Christmas in that house with him. I had the next couple of months at least to get myself ready to see him again and now you have arranged to spend Christmas with them.”

I didn’t give him a chance to respond before I stormed out of the living room, ignoring the calls from mum as I barged through the kitchen letting the back door slam behind me.

Leaning against the bonnet of the mustang I took a deep breath letting the bitter air fill my lungs as I fiddled with the sleeves of my Alpha Tauri hoodie. My eyes stung from the unshed tears, I couldn’t believe what I had been told. I didn't think anything could sour the news of me getting in F1 but my Dad had to drop the bombshell before dinner.

How did he think this was a good idea, they saw how broken I was after Charles walked out. My head was spinning. How could I go from such a high to feeling like shit in a matter of seconds.

Running my fingers over the key to the mustang I let out another shaky breath, roughly wiping my eyes with the sleeve of my hoodie. I knew I wasn’t in any state to drive but I needed to clear my head and there was only one way I knew how to. Unlocking the car I slid into the driver’s seat, letting the engine of the beast roar into life. I ran my hands around the steering wheel before resting my forehead against the cool leather. Pierre came running out of the house quicker than he had ever ran before. I guess he knew me too well.

Before I could process what was happening he was sitting in the passenger seat, resting his hand over mine.

“You know this isn’t the right thing to do?” He said softly.

“Then tell me what is?” I snapped, dipping the clutch as I slammed the car into first gear, speeding out of the driveway. “Tell me why my own Dad thinks that spending Christmas with the whole Leclerc family is the best thing to do.”

I could feel the tears burning my eyes once again as I sped down the road not caring about the speed limit.

“Nugget, please.” Pierre whispered, panic evident in his voice. “This isn’t the way to go about things. If you get clocked by the police you can kiss your career goodbye before it’s even begun.”

His words tipped me over the edge and I couldn’t help the sobs that escaped my lips, tears were streaming down my cheeks causing my vision to blur. Blinking back the tears the best I could, I pulled over at the side of the road, turning my hazards on.

Ragging my seat belt off I covered my face with my hands letting out a painful scream.

How was I meant to survive two weeks living in the same house at Charles, no doubt she would be there as well.

“Come on, swap seats.” Pierre said softly, squeezing my thigh.

“What am I going to do P?” I sobbed, trying to stop my hands from shaking. I thought I was well on the way to being over Charles but the last couple of days proved I wasn’t.

“Tu vas aller à Monaco et montrer au garçon ce qu'il manque. You are going to go to Monaco and show the boy what he is missing.” Pierre hummed, pulling my hands away from my face, holding them in his. “Tu gardes la tête haute, comme la lionne que tu es. You hold your head high, like the lioness that you are.”

Charles’ POV

For the last couple of hours there had been a weird tension in the house, it started once Becky turned up tail between her legs saying how sorry she was about trying to ruin christmas. It was like a broken record, I knew I should have ended the relationship it had been four years now but I couldn’t. I wasn’t going to put Valentina in a position where her career would be on the line. She was doing amazing at Formula W, she was a champion in the making and one day she would be racing on the track with me. Well if they ever let women into F1.

But I wasn’t going to be the one to destroy anything for her, even if it meant dealing with the devil herself. Valli’s happiness meant more to me than my own.

“Enrico, c'est une excellente nouvelle. Enrico, this is great news.” Mum smiled, pressing the phone against her ear as she walked past the living room.

This immediately gained my attention, why was she on the phone to Valentina’s dad? Pushing myself up to my feet I quickly followed her to the kitchen, taking a seat at the large table.

Yes I was being nosey but I didn’t care.

“Bon vol, à vous tous. Have a good flight, to all of you.” Mum beamed, before ending the call, busying herself with the coffee machine.

“Why were you on the phone to Valli’s dad?” I asked, causing her to turn around. The smile on her face was wide and full of mischief.

She didn’t say anything but she ushered me into the living room where Arthur and Lorenzo had now joined Becky. They all had a knowing smirk on their face as I perched on the arm of the sofa.

“Quelqu'un peut me dire ce qui se passe? Can someone tell me what's going on?” I huffed, narrowing my eyes at my mum who looked like she was going to burst with excitement.

“We have guests for Christmas this year, they fly out tonight and land early hours tomorrow morning.” she beamed, taking a couple of steps across the living room placing her hand on my shoulder. “It has been a while since we were all together under one roof.”

“Who?”

“Valentina and her parents.”

And just like that I felt my world come crashing down around me.

@chibsytelford @dragon-of-winterfell @ohthemisssery @a-distantdreamer @sgkophie @stillbreathin @angywritesstuff @miamedyu @enchantedbytomandhenry @scribbuluswrites @dangerouspursepeachbear @micks-afterglow @livo67 @buendiabebeta @pleasedontfollowinlost @ferrarifwendvale @hungryhungarian @theplobnrgone @charlesleclercje @sunf1owerrq @queenslife @panicforspec @inesramoss30 @justme2042 @liv67 @sessgjarg @derpinathebrave @idkiwantchocolatee @littleobsessionsandlifeslessons @alynoa @clcspeonies @pleasantducktimetravel @organasith

[tunabesimpin]

🐟 Welcome to Tuna's Lair! 🐟

Tuna's the name art is my game! I just be simpin! I mostly create content for Twisted Wonderland here! But I’m happy to do stuff related to all of these: [ Twisted Wonderland, Splatoon, Genshin Impact, ProSekai, Uma Musume, Obey Me ]

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This blog may reblog content better suited for mature audiences! sensitive topics, dark themes, etc. as well as posts with heavy spoilers. PLEASE TAKE CAUTION WITH THIS IN MIND!

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Check here before sending in requests! I will try to respond to all requests, but if you send an ask for something that has closed you're going to be disappointed. On that note if you requested before a deadline and haven't received a response please be patient. I make sure to remember all I have left so I promise I will get to you ^v^

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-request are mainly for OC interactions or canon characters unless there is an event -these will be sketches only; no color except very minimal shading or monotone (depends on my irl workload) -Writings and questions will usually be responded with rambling or a bulleted style -I do not take nsfw requests -If you would prefer a private response be sure to let me know in your ask -If you are wondering where your ask went, feel free to ask again or msg me! -Be polite or I will not do your request and may block/ ignore you -Mutuals you can send in anything at anytime ily :3

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Fishy Beginnings - Tuna backstory/ UM backstory Floyd Has Discovered Something Interesting - Tuna x Floyd comic Slumby Party with Lilia & Tuna - Anxiety vent

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Introduction

For those who don't know me!!! Welcome to my (mostly twst) simp page! My name is Tuna! I'm 23, ace and nonbinary. You can use any pronouns for me, however I most prefer They/Them! I have severe anxiety and ADHD so I hope you will be patient with me and let me know if I become too chatty or overstep lines! My hobbies include creating art, listening to music, playing games and sometimes streaming. (If you'd like to check out my streams go here -> Parsnops WARNING MATURE CONTENT!) I'm not the best at interacting with others due to my anxiety, but I enjoy talking whether it be with close friends or shoving my ideas into the void of tumblr. I love simping for art, writings, music and all sorts of different medias! I love to hear/ see/ read and learn about everything yall make! I usually do art in my free time, but sometimes I like to play silly horror survival games, farm sims, and rhythm games. I've been doing art for around 7 - 8 years. I hope one day to work off my art, but I don't expect that anytime soon.

Anyways here are my favs from different medias! TWST - Floyd, Jade, Azul, Rook Lilia, Kalim, Ruggie Splatoon - Pearl, Marina, Frye, Callie Genshin - Klee (main #1), Alhaitham (Main #2), Tighnari, Fischel Prosekai - all of Wonderland X Showtime, Kanade, & Shiho Uma Musume - Gold Ship, Special Week, Silence Suzuka, Twin Turbo Obey Me - Beelzebub & Barbatos UtaPri - Natsuki Shinomiya

Games I like to play! TWST, Obey Me, ProSekai, Bang Dream, Splatoon 3, Phasmophobia, Fallout New Vegas, Devour, Minecraft, Sonic Adventure 1 & 2

Anyways thanks for getting to know me! One warning! Please do not ask insensitive questions or try to leave hate/ be extremely rude. I'm just going to block you as I really don't have time or the mentality for it. Its very hard to get on my bad side, but once you are, there's no coming back ok? I'm just trying to have fun here ^v^!