#it feels like my world keeps shrinking and I really don’t want that because it’s been small enough as it is

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[drewsbraziliangf]

nothing to say when heaven falls | Drew Starkey x black!reader

summary: what can you do when the person that’s supposed to understand and be on your side chooses to doubt your fears?

Word count: 1388

a/n: not edited, we die like soldiers!!!!! pls let me know if you wish to be added to my taglist

"How can't you see how disrespectful this is to me, Drew?" You ask with a strained voice and teary eyes. "Everywhere you go she's looming like a shadow."

"She's my friend, what do you want me to do?" Exasperated, he asks.

"I don't know. Maybe tell her that your fiancé doesn't feel comfortable with her following you around, traveling abroad to see you or fuck, being all fucking touchy and handsy with you in public."

My throat was burning as the words slipped my mouth but I simply couldn't avoid it any longer. I am so tired of this whole situation and it has been going on for far too long. I just can't hold it back anymore.

"Can't exactly tell her what to do," he rolled his eyes this time.

"Really? Am I really asking for that much?" I look at the man in front of me with disbelief, "I just want to feel like I'm not invisible in my own goddamn relationship. She sees you more than I do and I am the one with a ring on my finger. How is this fair?" 

"Babe, listen, there's nothing going on between me and her. You have to believe me," he pleads as he runs his hands through his hair.

"You don't think I'm trying to believe you? I'm in the trenches everyday telling myself this over and over again, but how can I turn a blind eye to it when the first thing I see whenever I'm online is that you're both coincidently in the same city. For the millionth time."

I know that pulling this out in the open this way isn't the best option. But how could I keep bottling all of this up when it's causing such a heavy pain in my chest every time I see their names together?

It was always clear the perks of dating a public figure and I never backed out on it. Now seeing the man who asked me to spend the rest of my life with him and have his babies walking around with the woman everyone swears he was romantically involved with is messed up.

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” he admits as he walks away from me.

That felt like a punch. Because how could I make it anymore obvious? Do I have to draw it to a thirty year old why he should respect the woman he chose to propose to? 

“Are you for real right now?” I asked as I follow him into the kitchen of our shared apartment. “Did you really just said that to me, Joseph?”

At this point it felt like there was no going back anymore, either this was going to be totally fixed here or it wouldn’t at all. The bandaid was ripped and the wound was open and burning.

“How can you be so dull? You really can’t see what the problem here is?” 

I watch as he fills a glass with water and turns his back to me. He did it twice already. The off white walls of the kitchen lacked the warm they always brought when we were in it together. It felt claustrophobic and like the roof was going to fall over our heads at any given minute.

“You’re acting like I’m cheating on you. Like this is some major fuck up. It isn’t, you’re turning it into something it isn’t.” His tone was cold but looking at his posture it was clear that he was trying to maintain his calm.

The condescending tone in his voice made me want to shrink into myself and hide away from the world.

“Oh, right. Yeah, blame it on me for thinking that my fiancé going out of his way to be with his ex fuck buddy isn’t normal.”

“Careful,” he warns once finally looks at me.

“Or what, Drew? What else could you possibly do that will make me feel worse than I already do?” I challenge, my gaze locked on him as I wait.

After a few minutes of us staring down at each other, he shakes his head and sighs. 

“I’m not doing whatever this is. I’m done entertaining this,” he declares and he leans against the countertop.

Drew and I met around two years ago through a mutual friend. We instantly hit off and after a few dates, he officially asked me to be his girlfriend - which I obviously accepted. We had this instant connection that isn’t common. At first I was terrified of it, I knew who he was and the fact that his life was always being scrutinized by thousands of people. I knew what people said online about him and as we got closer and closer I couldn’t help but lose myself in the speculations about him even more.

Our relationship was great and we always made sure that each others boundaries were respected, so color me stoked to be in this situation right now. I am not dumb and every single day there is a needle pinching me making me think of stuff and situations like the one we find ourselves right now just indulge those thoughts.

In the early days of our relationship we made sure there were no secrets between us and past relationships. I knew I was his first black girlfriend, I knew he was born and raised in the South too. So joining that and the fact that I am an immigrant did make me scared of a lot of things, the main of them being the fact that it isn’t uncommon at all for men to always find their way back to that they are used to. 

So seeing her upon him all the time while people online barely know about our relationship feels like hell. Because even though I’m in family pictures that his sisters post online, and the very visible ring on my finger I am never considered the option of being his significant other. She is. Every single time. And he never did anything about it - hell, he never even set boundaries with her and she knows that we’re together. Am I really reading too much into things? 

Being three months away from our wedding day, this isn’t the kind of thought or conversations I would like to be having. I should be fucking excited and dress hunting, but lately the only thing that I feel like doing is swallowing lumps and holding back tears, faking smiles and pretending I’m fine. I’m not, I’m fucking falling apart and I’m so tired of begging to be seen. 

“I don’t know how else to tell you that I am not comfortable with this and that you shouldn’t be either,” I point out as the first tear cross the edges of my cheeks. “I don’t know how else to ask you to respect our relationship.”

“I respect our relationship, I always did. I just don’t think that what you’re saying right now makes any sense. Whatever I had with her in the past is over.” He says as he runs one of his hands through his face.

“Drew, honey, you’re not seeing things from my point of view. Imagine if it was me catching planes every other day to be with someone that I was involved in with in the past. And all of our friends know that you and I are together. How would that make you feel?”

At that he says nothing but silence can mean many things, and in this case it means consent. 

Tired of this back in forth conversation, I reach for my phone that was besides his on the counter and as if the timing couldn’t be more right, the screen of his phone lights up with an incoming call. No surprise flashes through my features as I see the picture on the caller id, both of them in a mirror picture as they brush their teeth.

“I can’t do this anymore,” I confess watching as he reaches for his phone quickly declining the call. “Not when you’re up to your eyeballs into whatever this is. I’ll make the calls tomorrow and cancel the dates with the venue.”

I grab my phone and my purse and I walk towards the front door before he can say anything else, I’m closing it behind me. 

[macabr3-barbi3]

Dream a Little Dream (of Me)- Chapter 5

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Even more fun new abilities, like making Alastor have a real conversation!

I'm sorry, I know it's been forever- I have a terrible habit of getting caught up at chapter 5 on all of my fics for some reason 🤣 the new banner was created by my beloved @fraugwinska who is this fic's #1 hype woman (ily 💕)

I've hit a point in this story where I think I'm going to start implementing a few more plot elements- I love writing the smut but I have some fun ideas for actual story; they can only do so much before something else is needed to keep it going, so going forward there will be a bit less of a focus on the sexual aspects of the reader's relationship with Alastor and more on some emotional parts and world-building. I hope that's not too disappointing, and that you all will stick along for the ride with us <3

For weeks following your fleeing of his bedroom, Alastor is in an absolutely foul mood.

The night after your argument, your silent lounging on your bed- in your own bedroom once again, sleep deprived and irritated, unwilling again to interact with anyone else’s dreams- is disturbed by a shuddering of the hotel and loud, clattering thumps coming from down the hall. You stumble bleary-eyed into the hallway with everyone else, Charlie identifying the disturbance as coming from Alastor’s room and knocking gently on the door.

When he opens it he looks distraught, eyes wide, smile strained, his hair looking like he’s been running his hands through it constantly, tugging at it. “What is it,” he asks the Princess, and to Charlie’s credit she doesn’t shrink back from him when she asks if he’s okay, tells him that he’s disturbing everyone’s sleep.

He locks eyes with you where you stand a few feet away, still hovering halfway into your own room. “Perfectly fine,” he tells Charlie, but his eyes don’t leave your face. “Merely a… nightmare, I suppose. More of a disappointing dream than anything else, really.”

You duck back into your room with a slam of the door, chest heaving with your anger and frustration and not listening to whatever else he had to say to Charlie. What right did he have to say that you were a disappointment? You didn’t even know what he wanted from you, let alone what you had done wrong- what, not wanting to kill people? You were no saint, having ended up in Hell in the first place, but you had morals still, lines you wouldn’t cross. Regardless of anything that had happened between you thus far, any yearning or feelings that might have resulted from it, you wouldn’t change who you were as a person for him. You came to the hotel seeking redemption, for fuck’s sake- how could he think that he could ask that of you?

You start booking other hotel rooms with the money you’re earning as the Resident Events Coordinator- honestly, Charlie probably pays you way too much, but it's helping you in the meantime so you aren’t going to complain- and you’ll camp out for a few days at a time and practice your abilities in the dreams of others. It’s fun for a while, to innocently mess with people by creating clones and turning things upside down. You find that once you’ve been inside someone’s dreams you can almost tune into their thoughts like a radio broadcast now- a little concentration and you get fleeting snippets of consciousness from them; grocery lists, work tasks, gossip. It’s nothing like it had been with Alastor, like you were deep-diving into his brain, seeing his memories through his eyes. He might have been right about your connection to him being what allowed such a thinking to happen, since you showed no signs of being able to do such a thing with anyone else.

Charlie notices how often you’re away from the Hotel, because she’s doing everything in her power to keep you there aside from having Vaggie physically restrain you. She keeps proposing new activities for you to coordinate, from a night at the club to an outing at LuLu World, and most recently she had you planning a trip to her father’s mansion for some fancy dinner and tour- Lucifer himself wouldn’t be interacting with them beyond the actual meal, he was just opening the space to them so they could all see where Charlie had grown up, another lesson in ‘empathy’ that Charlie hoped would help them make progress.

So you spent the evening making sure that everyone was corralled into the correct locations and not slipping off where they shouldn’t be. Angel had already tried to convince Husk to raid the wine cellar with him, Niffty was lamenting that she wasn’t allowed into the King’s personal quarters to clean, and Charlie was growing more and more frustrated that rooms she wanted to show the group had been filled with rubber ducks. Alastor keeps his distance from you, occasionally fading into the shadows to go do his own thing- you hope Charlie and Lucifer don’t hold it against you that you have no ability to control that man. 

Dinner calms everyone down, wine and delicious food putting everyone in a better mood while Lucifer dazzled them with magic and stories about Charlie as a child. You laugh along with everyone but you can feel Alastor’s eyes on you the entire meal, and when you finally steal a glance at him he’s looking away.

Typical.

You help Vaggie herd everyone into their rooms- their own rooms, to Angel’s disappointment at not being able to share with Husk- and leave Alastor to Charlie so she can berate him about not making an effort to get along with her dad, snippy barbs flying across the table at each other between stories. You tell the girls that you’ll stay up a bit later to make sure no one does any ill-advised exploring in the night, and bid them a goodnight as you head off to clean up from dinner. Lucifer seemed to have used his magic to take care of most of the food mess, but he’s nowhere to be seen when you return to the dining room so you take your time in stacking plates and organizing the dishes so that whatever staff he might have has an easier time of taking care of it all.

Just after midnight finds you seated on the couch in Lucifer’s library, your eyes surprisingly not bleary with a need for sleep despite not having truly rested in days. Everyone else is asleep- you focus your powers for a moment and can’t pinpoint anything coming from the others, other than an unpleasant staticky noise that comes from Alastor’s room. The fireplace crackles pleasantly a few feet away from you, the comforting smell of old books surrounding you and making things feel… calmer than they have as of late, with Alastor stomping around the hotel like some angry beast and refusing to interact with you at all. He was always making this expression towards you, like he wants to say something, or wants you to say something, and it was wearing away at your resolve.

You didn’t want to have this distance between you. Even beyond the more intimate moments that you had shared, Alastor had always been good company; he was helping you learn more about your powers, even if it was only to sate his curiosity; outside of his bedroom he was friendly and fun, and would probably rather die again than admit that he enjoyed the company of the others as well. Throughout of the course of this… thing between you, something had changed on your side. You think about the night he tore his stitches, the words you had whispered before realizing he had passed out above you.

“I would be yours. Forever. For as long as you want.”

The words still sit uncomfortably true in your ribcage, make the rift between the two of you feel even wider. Maybe it would be easier if he knew- if you could take his avoidance of you as an answer. You wanted to find him, try to have a proper conversation about boundaries when it came to your power- have a proper conversation about your feelings, and-

A throat clears in the doorway of the library, and when you turn Alastor himself stands in the doorway. “I hope I’m not intruding,” he says stiffly without stepping into the room, and you wave a hand at him to indicate that he can join you. He stands at the other end of the room still, closer to the fire, and won’t meet your eyes. “I heard you telling Charlotte that you would keep an eye on everyone tonight- but I know you haven’t slept. I’m happy to take up the watch if you would like me to place a temporary pocket dimension in your room, or transport you back to the hotel for the night.”

You want to drop it- ignore the fight that still hovers frustratingly between the two of you when Alastor is offering an out. His way of apologizing, perhaps, but your thoughts from earlier are still there. You needed to actually talk about it, or the pair of you would just keep coming back to the same issue.

“It depends. Does accepting your offer mean that we wouldn’t be talking about how you casually mentioned having me kill people for you? Because in that case, no thank you.” You watch the fire instead of him, how the flames twist and dance with one another as he stiffens at your words.

“I… regret how that evening transpired,” he says at last, ignoring your sigh as he comes closer to the couch. “I’ve thought on the matter and I recognize how such a request-”

“A request that you made seem like a command,” you remind him, “with that shit you pulled with the leash.”

He takes a deep breath, the flames flickering green behind him as he tried to keep his composure. “Yes, I can see now how that would have upset you. Regardless- I recognize how such a request was inappropriate, even if we did have a tentative agreement in regards to my limits with your powers. I understand that it is a boundary for you, and I will do my best not to test that again.”

You finally turn to look at him, and he looks… properly abashed. But there was no way he would have come up with that on his own, not with the glee that had been evident in his features when he brought up the idea. “Did Charlie help you with that?” You ask, and he scowls- which is less scary than he probably hopes it is, and is more a confirmation than anything else.

“I may have sought her expertise in handling interpersonal conflict,” he says, his stiff posture finally loosening up as he joins you on the couch. “Apologies do not come easily to me- not sincere ones, anyway. I don’t-” He clenches his fist and turns away from you, dark shadows crawling across the floor in arcs away from him. “I don’t know how to have something in my grasp without possessing it entirely. We have a deal but it’s not one that grants me the liberties that I would prefer in regards to your powers and your actions.” 

You take a deep breath and scoot closer to him. “I appreciate you being honest with me,” you offer, and he grimaces like the idea is distasteful. “Listen, I’m sure you think having feelings makes you weaker or something but really, it’s important to talk about these things. And to apologize… which I accept. But if we want to keep, you know, experimenting with my powers and whatever else, I think we need to have specific guidelines of what we expect of each other that isn’t crossing any boundaries for either of us. What, exactly, do you want?”

Alastor seems to struggle with himself for a moment, clenching his hands and refusing to meet your eyes. “I… I’m not quite sure what I want,” he says, like the words of ignorance pain him. “I’ve despised having to keep my distance from you since our disagreement. To see you laughing with the others and turning away from me with that look on your face was unpleasant to say the least. I don’t want that space between us again- if you’re amenable to the idea I think I would like to have you back in my bedroom, once I have repaired the bayou dimension.”

“You want to be closer then- physically.” You hop cushions, sitting right beside him and placing a hand on his knee. “That’s fine, we can do that- you’ll have to tell me what happened to the bayou sometime, though.” He nods stiffly, hesitating a moment before he places his hand over yours on his knee. “Anything else?”

“In regards to your powers, I would still like to experiment if you will allow me.” Alastor lifts your hand from his knee and presses a soft kiss to the back of it. “I understand that hurting others is a limit you will not cross-”

“I won’t hurt you either, if that was your idea of trying to get around that.”

He frowns. “Too clever for your own good- I suppose that is part of the reason that I tolerate you. Very well- I will not ask you to cause physical harm to anybody, period. I also still would like to ask that I am the only one who knows of your abilities for the time being.”

“Done. I do have a condition of my own.” You turn to face him fully, and pull his hand to your heart. “I don’t want this to be a proper deal- no soul binding or anything like that. I would want the rope from our wager removed.” He stiffens at that, but he doesn’t jerk away from you like you expected so you continue. “We have to be able to trust each other if we want any sort of relationship to work, whether it be for experimentation or something more. We should be able to follow each other’s requests and boundaries without needing it sealed with a chain- that doesn’t give us any room to adapt or change as my powers grow and situations shift.”  

His jaw clenches, and he doesn’t look at you for a long moment, instead keeping his eyes trained on the flames before he finally nods- you bite your lip to keep from grinning or doing something stupid, like shouting in excitement. “I hope you realize what you are asking of me,” he says finally. “I don’t generally keep people close to me that I cannot control or own in some way or another. It keeps me detached from needing people, or caring about their approval. But I do believe I want those things from you, which is why I am agreeing to these terms. Please understand that this is… new territory for me.”

You lace your fingers through his. “It is for me, too. But that’s where the trust comes in- I have to trust that you’ll respect my boundaries without the compulsion of a deal, and you trust that I’m here with you because I want to be- whether you just want to continue experimenting with my powers or… anything else.”

Alastor’s red eyes glance at you from his peripheral. “Anything else, you say? I take it to mean that you also wish for things to return as they were between us in an intimate manner?” Your face flushes but you nod, and to your relief he smiles softly and reaches across the scant distance between you to touch your shoulder. “I would like that as well,” he says, and cups your cheek in one hand, leaning in so your foreheads rest against one another. His breath ghosts across your lips, and you realize with startling clarity that this would be the first time you’ve kissed him outside of dreams; the first one in reality, a milestone to mark the resolvement of your disagreement. You embrace it, leaning in and letting your lips meet, a gentle pressure before your mouth opens with a gasp when he trails his free hand up your thigh to caress the skin under your shorts with his thumb. “So soft,” he murmurs into the kiss, almost absently, and then he’s pulling you to him, maneuvering so you sit sideways in his lap. He lets his fingers creep a bit further under the hem of your shorts. “May I?”

“Please,” you whine, and he grants you mercy by snapping your clothing out of existence so he can make unhindered contact with your skin. His fingers move slowly, tracing through the wetness along the folds of your entrance before he parts them and slips a digit inside. The short weeks that have passed since the last time you were with him feel like a lifetime, but he still knows the intricacies of your body like a well loved instrument; a second finger follows, and pressure against the spot inside you that makes you see stars. “Fuck, Alastor…”

He steals the rest of your words with his mouth, his tongue snaking in to tangle with yours, drinking down the sounds you make like ambrosia. Another finger, and you twist in Alastor’s hold to grind yourself down against them, to angle your hips to guide him more effectively where you want him to go. “Someone is eager, hm?” He pulls back to whisper in your ear, hand finally leaving your face to come around your back, pulling you as close as he can to his body while still working his fingers inside you. His thumb comes into play, brushing with perfect pressure on your clit, dipping into the wetness that coats his fingers so the slide of it is slick and perfect. Tension builds inside you, muscles shaking as you ride Alastor’s hand towards a sloppy orgasm. He brings his mouth to your chest, sharp teeth nipping at the sensitive skin there before sucking gently, still making eye contact when you glance down at him through the haze of pleasure that threatens to overwhelm you. “Go on, darling,” he says softly, laving his tongue over the marks he’s sucked into your skin, fingers thrusting more insistently as everything in you coils tighter than a spring. “Cum for me, go on-”

You cry out his name as it takes you over, the electric flash of ecstasy that consumes you from the pit of your stomach to the tips of your fingers as Alastor works you through it. You can feel your heartbeat in your eyes from the force of it, a soft throbbing that you know Alastor is experiencing where his digits are still inside the grip of your internal walls. Everything is tingly and fuzzy afterward, as your pulse returns to normal and your breathing slows, aware now of the soft kisses that Alastor is pressing into your collarbone.

He removed his fingers from you, bringing them up to his mouth to drag his tongue up and down the length of them while you blush. And despite the pleasure he’s already given you, you want more- you grind your hips down to convey the sentiment, the mess of your orgasm still evident and soaking through the front of his trousers where you can feel the hard ridge of his cock. He hisses at the friction, twisting a hand up into your hair while the other grips your hip and pulls you down harder. “You tempt me, my dear,” he says, “but someone is coming.”

“I don’t hear anything,” you mutter, continuing to rock your hips in little circles. Even with how sensitive you are, the pressure against your clit feels damningly good, too good to stop or heed his warning. “And if someone comes in, I’ll handle it.”

Alastor laughs out loud. “Oh, you’ll handle it, will you? By all means then, have at it.” He gestures vaguely towards his pelvis, unaware of the trick that you’ve been holding up your sleeve in your recent solo experimentations. You would never get a better opportunity to surprise him, you think, as you rip the belt from his pants and help him shimmy them off, his thick erection beading with fluid at the tip when it’s freed.

You lean back against the couch cushions, pulling him down with you and using a gentle hand to guide him to your entrance. You let out a soft whimper as he pushes into you, breath punching out of you with a gasp when he sinks to the hilt in one swift thrust. You tangle a hand into his hair, gripping the base of one of his antlers and grinning when his hips jerk against you at the action. His eyes are half-lidded and soft as he stares down at you, seeming to have to focus on slowing down when he pulls out and slowly presses back in. “You’re so lovely,” he whispers, and your pulse leaps into your throat when he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.

Your mind is flooded with images when he makes contact, emotions that ride through your veins along with the physical pleasure you’re feeling- evidently he’s been watching you the last few weeks, following you when you left the hotel to make sure you weren’t in any danger, sending his shadow to watch you sleep. You can feel the bitterness in your pulse as he watches you interact with the others, only to turn away when you notice him. The vague sadness that night that he had destroyed his room, his bayou, because how could he remain there when there were traces of you everywhere? 

You break the connection with a gasp, using your grip on his antler to pull him back to your mouth as he continues to fuck into you at a steady pace. He groans into your mouth, his fingers digging into your skin hard enough to leave bruises, marks that you can come back to when the need was to great, more tangible proof that this was real, that he wanted you outside your abilities. “Alastor, please,” you beg, letting the fingers not currently brushing the base of his horns to trail down his spine, tracing the vertebrae beneath your touch as he shivers. He shifts his legs, brings himself closer to you, the angle changing and pushing the tip of his cock exactly where you need it. 

The door to the library creaks open, and you both freeze.

“Hello?” There’s a hint of pain as Lucifer’s voice echoes in the room, where Alastor has tightened his grip enough to break skin with his claws. His other hand untangles itself from your hair to press against your mouth, silencing your heavy breathing. “Who’s in here?”

The couch you were seated on was high-backed- he wouldn’t be able to see you from the door, but if he entered the room, came around the front, you would be fucked in a far less pleasurable way than you currently were. Alastor’s nostrils flare above you as he hears the soft clacking of the King’s boots as he takes a couple steps in, apparently not able to help himself from bucking his hips forward, his teeth bared in a snarl when he feels your muffled groan against his palm.

More light blooms in the room from the wall sconces- you had been sitting in here with just the fire, and the glare of more lighting makes you squint your eyes, Alastor silhouetted beautifully above you. “I know someone is in here,” Lucifer demands, and you take a deep breath against Alastor’s hand and snap your fingers. “You were all told to-”

“Why, good evening, your Majesty!” 

You almost wish you had manifested in Hell like the CEO of that tech company, with some sort of electronics built into your head so you could record the look on Alastor’s face at hearing his own voice respond to Lucifer. Your eyebrows are creased, trying to focus on the figment you’ve conjured to keep the King’s attention away from the couch. 

“Oh, it’s just you,” Lucifer says, and you can hear the hint of disdain in his voice- you wonder, not for the first time, what the issue was between these two- some conflict that had started before you were at the Hotel that no one felt necessary to fill you in on. “I thought you were told to keep to your own quarters past eleven.”

You make the thing twirl it’s cane, snapping it back to the ground and inspecting it’s fingernails. “Yes, well, I had some business to attend to. And might I add, sire, you are also out past your imposed bedtime.” 

Maybe it was something about using your powers to sass the king of Hell with some false puppet, but Alastor seemed to react well to it- his eyes dark, teeth bared, he plants a foot on the floor to brace himself so the couch doesn’t shift and thrusts into you hard, his hand pressing harder against your mouth when you whine at the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls. There’s wonder in his expression, something akin to adoration; this was what he wanted from you, you realized, displays of power, shows of your abilities that he could see and benefit from, that showed that he could trust you. 

Lucifer scoffs across the room. “This is my house, if you’ve forgotten,” he retorts. “I can go where I please. And I heard you talking to someone!” Rapid footsteps, like he’s coming further into the room, and even as it makes Alastor buck his hips wildly against you, you don’t think he really wants to be caught in such a compromising situation.

You make the figure step forward- if you really concentrate you can almost see through its eyes, a vague image behind your eyelids of Lucifer standing before it with his arms crossed where you’ve blocked him, his gaze frustrated. “I was talking to myself,” you make it say. “I must have intelligent conversation on occasion, you know, and with everyone else in bed and only you left awake, I had to make do.”

Alastor grins above you, pleased with the tone and the words of this replica you’ve created of him; refusing to use his likeness to submit or offer pleasantries to get him out of the room; you were doubling down like Alastor himself would. You can hear the inaccuracies- you’re sure Alastor can, too- but Lucifer appears none the wiser as Alastor begins to fuck you in earnest, the couch thankfully staying still and not squeaking or moving as he holds his hand over your mouth harder and leans down to nibble at your collar.

“Of all the disrespectful-”

“Careful now, your Majesty,” it says, and you make shadows appear to crawl across the floor towards him, tendrils approaching the couch as well. When Alastor notices them he groans into your skin, and through the copy’s eyes you see Lucifer snap his head in the direction of the sound. “You wouldn’t want Charlie to catch us in a disagreement, would you?” And thank whatever beings heard prayers down here, Lucifer deflates- you had made a gamble with that, assuming that Charlie had spoken with her father about getting along with her hotelier, but knowing the princess the way that you did you figured there was no way that she would allow them to be at each other’s throats like they were. You let the false shadows sink back, and have your illusion give him a cheeky little wave. “There’s a good King. Now, may I get back to my business?” With the last word, Alastor stills, waiting for a confirmation or denial, possibly preparing to phase the two of you out of the room if Lucifer came further into the room-

“Do whatever you want,” Lucifer grumbles, “Charlie and that little coordinator need to keep a closer fucking eye on you, but I can’t be bothered.”

“I’ll be sure to mention that to our event planner,” you make it say, and Alastor makes another soft noise into your throat against where your pulse beats steadily, replicated in the rhythmic clenching of your walls around his still hard length. The interruption doesn’t seem to have doused your arousal, nor Alastor’s- the possibility of being caught like this makes your blood boil in the most pleasant way, Alastor’s cock still filling you perfectly even as he’s stopped actually fucking you for the time being. “I’ll bid you a good night, sire; I still have matters that need tending to, free of distractions.” You see Lucifer cast a middle finger back at the image of Alastor as it speaks, and then mercifully he’s storming out, a swirling golden portal opening for him to step through and then closing with a loud crack.

In time with the noise of the portal slamming closed, Alastor pulls his hips back and snaps them forward again- his hand is removed from your mouth with your gasp, and he moves it to your hip to pull you more forcefully into his thrusts. “You,” he growls against your jawline, “are perfect.” He kisses you, licking into your mouth and stealing the air from your lungs as it’s punched from you with every rock of his pelvis. “The audacity to pull such a stunt- the control you maintained over the illusion was breathtaking, I don’t- fuck,” he concludes eloquently, fingers coming between your bodies to rub at your clit again as he races towards completion. It reignites the fire in your abdomen, heat flashing through your body like a strike of lightning that burns across your skin, making you cling to him tighter. He looks down at you with dark, unfathomable eyes while he fucks you, his pace growing uneven and broken as he approaches his end. “Please, darling,” he whispers against your lips, “cum for me, I need-”

The plea is what breaks you, every muscle in your body tensing and releasing as the orgasm slams into you like a car into a brick wall- messy, sudden, destructive. You don’t leave your own mind this time, your consciousness firmly rooted in reality as you watch Alastor lose his composure, his eyes fluttering closed with a gasp of your name while he spills into the slick heat of your cunt, his hips still rocking as if he means to fuck his release as far into you as he can. You shiver with the aftershocks, Alastor still maintaining a gentle swiping across your clit, and you can feel the way your walls twitch around the length of his cock while he stays buried in you to the hilt.

“No mind traveling today, I see,” he asks quietly, another kiss pressed softly to your forehead, and while no mental images come forth you can feel what he’s feeling now; the lingering ache of pleasure, the pride he still feels at your show of your new ability, an overall sense of happiness that you wouldn’t expect to be able to bring Alastor. He had put aside his discomfort to have an honest, responsible conversation with you to fix what you had both thought might be irreparably broken, and you were thankful.

You hum against his throat. “I’m content where I am,” you tell him, and the vibration of his laughter on your lips is perfection.

From the previous tags list: @aconstructofamind @littlebluefishtail @spottypug @bishiglomper @ivebeenthearchersstuff @minamilinaqueen

if any of you would like to be removed for any reason, please let me know! <3

[cinnaminyoons]

!!   jungkook

[ event masterlist ] 

assassins after the same target

alone in the darkroom together

“here to finish me off?”

"i'm going to kill you, ln jungkook."

"wait, nobody told me we're married – babe—"

"don't you dare 'babe' me after ignoring all my texts and declining all my calls," you interrupt with a growl, looming over him as he shrinks back against the wall. "who the fuck do you think you are? you stole my kill."

with an awkward smile, illuminated just barely by the red light in the corner of the darkroom, jungkook says, "i don't know if you're talking about last night's call of duty round or this morning's fiasco."

"fias—" you suck in a hissed breath, pinching the bridge of your nose with the hand not trapping him in place. it needs to be there. jungkook is very good at escaping when he wants to be. "you killed my mark!"

"but you said we share everything," he mumbles cluelessly. "our jobs are the same, so i thought you'd appreciate it if i checked him off your list for you. y'know – acts of service as a love language?"

"that applies to washing the dishes or refilling my gas tank," you sigh, "not stealing your boyfriend's contracts."

he twiddles his thumbs, a tiny pout pursing his lips as he stares at your shoes. or the shadow of them, really – it's much too dark to see a whole lot. he wishes you'd let him step outside for this conversation. "i'm sorry, baby... i just wanted to help out, you know? you're always so busy and i miss you sometimes. like, i know that basically being your househusband would keep me from seeing you as often, but it's hard not to get sad when you're halfway across the world and the only thing i have of you are your clothes. i killed him so that we could spend more time together..."

you can't handle how adorably pathetic he looks, on the verge of tears. your anger dissipates with a breath. you bring him into your arms and kiss his temple, feeling his fists twist in the back of your jacket. he buries his soft, sweet face in your shoulder with a quiet sniffle.

"don't cry, doll," you murmur, stroking his soft, glossy hair. you twirl a lock between your fingers. "i'm sorry for blowing up at you earlier. i was worried that they'd trace and find you because of who that guy was. i was taking my time on purpose, and you just strolled in and popped his head like a grape."

he smiles, nosing your neck. he kisses the curve of it and pulls back with bright, sparkling eyes. "it's okay, baby. i should've asked you first. i'm a big boy – nobody is tracking me. i learnt from the best, after all."

he taps your chest and you smile softly, brushing his messy hair out of his eyes. they hold the galaxy, red dwarves and quantum foam and everything in between. you kiss his eyelids. 

“that you did, dollface. that you did."

you turn towards jungkook's chemical setup, the tubs holding rolls and enlarged prints of your life with him, placing your arm around his little waist. "how's everything going? will we be able to hang these up soon?"

"they're chugging along nicely," he replies softly, hooking his thumb into the belt loop of your crisp black trousers. you're still dressed up from the flight you took a few hours ago to return to him. "just a minute or two more – i can't remember, need to check the clock. then i can start with the fixer and the washes, and we'll be able to take a peek tomorrow and scan them up. i already have one in mind that i'd like to set my profile picture to – i hope it came out well."

"i'm sure it's gorgeous," you hum, "just like you."

he laughs, separating from you to wander closer to the bench, checking the clock. he hovers around the tubs, watching the second hand closely and extracting a roll and a print at the exact moment the hand touches the twelve. he submerges them in the next tubs along the bench. "thanks, baby. i was, um, really scared if you'd kill me. as in, honest-to-god murder me. your opening sentence didn't help, either. i planned this whole, like, dramatic scene for if you were really upset – i was gonna say, 'here to finish me off?' and turn around in a spinny chair and you'd laugh and everything would be okay again."

you chuckle, eyes crinkling, and wrap your arms around him as he transfers the final roll in the dedicated 'wash' basin. "you know me so well. i wouldn't have been able to be angry at you."

he giggles, twirling around and pecking your lips. "mmhm." he entwines his fingers with yours, and his smile sparkles like the diamonds he adores so much. "i love you, baby. i always will."

"i love you, too, kook. once i have a shower, we can do whatever you like to spend those hard-won hours together." he gasps in delight and you grin. "let's watch the first iron man. that one always makes you turn into such a cutie."

"ba-by," he whines, blushing. he's never been more relieved that the room is both dark and lit  by red – the same colour as his cheeks, he's certain. "you're so mean to me."

"sorry." you kiss his cheek. "it's my love language."

[veritas-scribblings]

hold - @bartylusmicrofic - words: 967 [mature: discussions of sex and under-age sex, some references to gender dysphoria]

[follow-up to 'teach', (y)earn universe | because @rayjkss said 'second part' and then this was on my brain all day]

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Barty demands. He drops himself onto the bed opposite Regulus and stares with such intensity that Regulus is forced to look up from the book he’s reading. ‘We need to give it a name. I don’t know what to call it.’

‘Deimos,’ Regulus says. ‘I’ve always liked that name. And in my family, we name things after stars. Granted, it’s one of the moons of Mars, but Narcissa is a flower name, so I think we can bend the rules.’

‘No, I meant your dick.’ Barty says this so bluntly, angrily, that Regulus feels his heart leap into his throat and suddenly he wants to shrink and die on the spot. ‘Evan told me about it.’

Regulus frowns. Because surely Barty isn’t stupid. Evan can’t be that stupid either. So, Regulus doesn’t know what’s happening anymore. Barty seems to be on a different wavelength than he is, which isn’t unusual since Barty is normally on a different wavelength than most people.

Only, Regulus can normally keep up with him. Now, however, Regulus’s world is dust.

Regulus closes the book in his lap with a snap and tries not to close his eyes as well, because Barty looks so angry and frustrated that Regulus wouldn’t be surprised if he started crying. ‘Barty,’ he says in a low voice. ‘I don’t have a dick. I thought you’d realised that from all the times we’ve, well, been naked together.’

Barty flops down onto the bed dramatically, groaning. ‘This is why we need to give it a name,’ he says to the roof. ‘And you’re not calling it Deimos. Because, I fully respect your right to name your own body, but calling it Deimos while we’re in bed will make it feel like there’s three of us.’ And then quieter, sounding almost sad, he says, ‘I didn’t realise it wasn’t good for you. I’m sorry, I thought it was good for you too.’

‘Barty,’ Regulus sighs. ‘Respectfully. I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.’

Barty sits up, eyes wide. ‘Sex. I’m talking about sex. According to Evan, you’ve never had an orgasm and I’m doing it all wrong, and I didn’t know! I’m sorry, there aren’t books in the library on “how to have sex” or “how to make sure sex is good” and I just don’t know where to find that sort of information, because it’s not like my parents keep sex guides in the house. I guess I could rob an adult book store, but I just didn’t think I’d need to because I didn’t think I’d need an instruction manual to do this properly!’ 

Oh. 

‘I didn’t realise I needed to draw you a map,’ Regulus says, flushing. 'And you didn't do it all wrong. It felt just fine.' It comes out flat, curt, which makes Barty even more upset. But Regulus just really doesn’t want to be having this conversation right now. 

Right now, Regulus wants to know how he can kill Evan without hurting Evan. And maybe only temporarily. Because he’d been pretty damned clear when talking to Evan that the conversation and the contents of it were to remain entirely between the two of them. Forever away from Barty’s ears.

‘I don’t need a map,’ Barty mutters. ‘I just…need to know of its existence.’

Regulus sighs, shuffles back so he’s leaning against his pillows, knees pulled to his chest. He thinks, perhaps, he can set the bed curtains on fire, run away in all the chaos, because he doesn’t want to be having this conversation right now.

The thing is, Regulus has never been uncomfortable about his body around Barty or Evan, not in the way he feels uncomfortable around others. The way he avoids using the Quidditch Change Rooms because he doesn’t like the eyes of others on him, people wondering why he's different.

Regulus trusts Evan and Barty implicitly and has historically been very open with them. Comfortable dressing and undressing around them. Laying in bed together, cuddling, curled up in their little ball of comfort, when there’s been limbs and body parts everywhere. 

But things with Barty are different now. When Barty touches him in a way that isn’t the normal way friends touch each other. Makes Regulus feel in ways friends don’t normally make each other feel. Regulus just doesn’t know how to deal with it, with the topic of his body when he willingly gives Barty access to it. He wants Barty to just know, the way Barty generally just knows everything. 

And Regulus is aware that this is unfair of him, to lay those kind of expectations on Barty. Even Barty can’t just know everything.

Barty shuffles over, wraps an arm around Regulus and curls against him so he’s in Regulus’s arms. He looks up at Regulus, all doe-eyed in what he probably thinks is a ‘seductive’ sort of way, and says with a small smile, ‘Evan says we need to “communicate more”. Apparently communication is important.’ 

‘I hate talking.’

‘Sure, but you love me. And,’ Barty grins, ‘I want to make sure it feels good for you.’

‘It felt fine.’

Barty rolls his eyes and nudges Regulus in his side. ‘It shouldn’t just feel fine. It should feel incredible. Like, the best thing you’ve ever felt. I want to make you feel good too.’

Regulus sighs and slides down so he’s laying on his side, face buried against Barty. The thing is, it’d genuinely felt good. Nice. Sure, he'd been aware that it'd felt nicer for Barty than it had for him. But Regulus hadn’t seen a problem with that, even when Evan had called it a ‘problem’. Because apparently Regulus is not allowed to have, what Evan had called, ‘subpar sex’. 

Regulus nods into Barty’s chest, hoping desperately that Barty intuitively knows (the way Barty naturally seems to know most things) what he means. Regulus will try—he will—to work through this.

[lovekz]

it’s seasonal

syn -> the seasons are changing, and so are you

warnings : depression, ran overthinks a lot

note : for all the fine people that have seasonal depression

you were gone.

disappeared off the face of the earth.

since early wednesday morning.

when you were leaving your boyfriend's after watching a few movies.

and now ran is worried.

it isn’t like you to just fall off the face of the earth without mentioning anything to rindou at least.

the two of you were pretty close, and ran was glad his two favorite people get along.

so when rindou says he hasn’t heard from you, the bottom of ran’s feet begin to sweat.

he called multiple times and only reached your voicemail.

did you break up with him? he had no idea.

but he knew he missed you.

so he gets in his car, and drives over to your house.

he wasn’t sure what he was going to say, but he wasn’t mad at you for doing this at all

just worried.

he pulls into a park in front your house and walks to the door, knocking on it.

after a bit of shuffling and moving around, you open the door.

you were in one of his hoodies and a pair of pajama bottoms.

you looked to be fresh out the shower.

“what are you doing here ran? is something wrong?” you question firstly, looking at him a bit confused.

ran analyzes your face a bit more before deciding to respond.

you look tired and physically upset with something.

“I missed you. a lot.” ran breathes out, feeling his heart slow a little more at the sight of you relaxing.

you don’t respond to that, however. just staring at ran like he’s grown two heads.

“where have you been? why haven’t you responded to my texts?” ran asks softly, glancing behind you.

the house was definitely a mess, clothes and tissues lingering here and there.

were you sick?

“home. here. I just.. needed some space.” you say hesitantly, glancing away from him.

and oh- he sees it.

the way you were fidgeting, looking like you haven’t slept, and the dryness of your face.

you weren’t fresh out the shower.

you had been crying previously to ran knocking at the front door.

ran’s heart aches at the thought of it, unable to hide the pain and guilt from his facial expression.

you notice it, and flash him a fake smile. one ran reads almost immediately.

“I’m okay, I promise. you did nothing wrong.” you say with a little laugh, giving a thumbs up for clarity.

ran shakes his head and pulls you into his arms, squeezing you just a bit in his arms.

"should've been here. should've noticed." he whispered into your hair, rubbing your back comfortingly.

and he feels you shaking and sobbing in his arms almost immediately, clutching onto his hoodie.

the two of you stand in your doorway until you stop crying even a bit. and even then, ran doesn't want to move.

but he knows the chilly air on your legs would get you sick, so he brings you into the house.

it doesn't matter to him that the house is a complete mess, because his girlfriend isn't at her usual 10.

though ran can tell you tried to keep it even the slightest bit of neat.

your eyes are red when ran sits you onto the couch, and you shrink into yourself.

ran doesn't know the feeling you had, but he knows he's familiar with the sight of it.

it's happen to everyone around him. his younger brother, his closest friends, and even izana.

and maybe it skipped past him. maybe he'd passed it on to someone else without knowing.

but he's never felt it for himself.

so now he sits beside you, beating himself up because he's got no fucking clue how to make you feel better for even five minutes.

but then he remembers

he stands up with a start, cupping your cheeks with a smile like he's just solved world hunger.

"i've got this really amazing idea. wanna try it?" he questions, wanting your consent for it.

you look at him a bit confused, before nodding at him slightly.

and then he's running to his car with you in his arms.

-

you fall asleep on the way to his house, and wake up in his comfortable bed.

the sheets are warm and fluffy, and smell like his laundry detergent and his natural scent.

it's only after you let out your fifth yawn is when you realize you're in here alone.

the lights are off and his orange lava lamp is on in the corner to give a bit of a hue in the room.

you climb out of bed and venture out of the room to find ran.

he's in the kitchen beside rindou, both of them stirring a huge pot with giddy grins.

the sight warms your heart almost immediately.

as if he senses you, ran whips around and gives you a huge smile.

"good morning gorgeous." ran calls, waving his hand for you to come over to him.

you listen, adjusting your self you walk over to the brothers.

ran gives you a kiss to your cheek and rindou bumps your hip with his own as a greeting.

you assume he doesn't hug you because of the amount of flour he had all over him.

ran shares the same reasoning, also being the one stirring the pot while rindou adds the dough.

"what are you guys making?" you question, trying to see from your tippy toes.

rindou nudges your head away with his elbow and ran laughs at the action, before looking at you.

"don't worry, babe. it's a surprise. how about you go ahead and freshen up? you'll know when it's ready." ran suggests.

you nod, going back upstairs and into ran's personal bathroom.

there was already a fresh change of clothes sitting on the counter and a few of your skin and body care items.

you know you used up the last of it when you were here, so he probably ran to the store while you were asleep.

turning to the bathtub, you realize it was full with bubbles and warm-hot water.

a plate of strawberries sliced into hearts sat on a plate nearby with a letter reading 'enjoy yourself, love you'

your heart swoons with the thought of how thoughtful your boyfriend could be to you.

-

when you finished, you got dressed in the hoodie ran had left and the pair of sweats that were definitely rindou's.

but you didn't mind, you were comfy anyway.

you walk downstairs only to find rindou and ran placing the food into a bowl.

it seemed to be soup, which was good because of the decreasing temperature outfit.

"what kind of soup is it?" you questioned, walking up to the brother's with a slightly intrigued look.

ran ushers you to the couch, following behind with your bowls.

rindou was in front of the two of you with his own bowl, trying to claim his seat before ran did.

"it's chicken soup. comfort soup. i don't know." rindou answers for you, shrugging and sitting in the seat before ran could try.

you don't miss the curse that leaves ran's mouth, before turning on the lights just a little bit.

he had gone as far as to decorate the living room too.

it had little fairy lights hanging around, along with another one of his lava lamps.

comfortable blankets hung from the back of the couch, along with a little heater in the corner that warmed the room a bit.

though because of it's size, it barely did a good job.

the tv was already on netflix, and the remote was placed next to you once you sat.

"this is so sweet of you. thank you." you say to the brothers, flashing them a quick smile.

rindou makes a 'pssh' sound before waving you off and tucking a nonexistent hair behind his ear.

ran laughs, before pulling you closer to him. "of course. eat your soup before it gets cold." ran suggests.

you nod, and began to eat it.

it had potatoes, chicken, carrots, a bit of sweet potato (rindou isn't a fan, so there's only really little chunks), and dumplings.

"when did you learn how to make this?" you ask curiously, putting on your favorite movie.

the two brothers look at each other, silently counting.

"about.. 4 years ago. rindou's first therapy session." ran explained, making rindou snicker.

"yeah. thank goodness he had enough practice. it was so bad the first time." rindou teased, looking at his brother.

ran's face flushed a bit, as he attempted to shrug off rindou's teasing.

"in my defense, it was my first time cooking." ran scoffed, looking at you with a smile.

rindou shakes his head almost immediately, putting his soup onto the coffee table in front of him.

"nuh uh. he was cooking for a year before that. and still couldn't cook!" rindou exclaims, laughing.

ran placed his soup down as well, before whipping his head around to look at his younger brother.

rindou gives him a smug little 'what' look, ready for whatever ran was about to throw at him.

the two begin to bicker, making you giggle and pay more attention to them (and your soup) instead of the tv.

as they argue playfully, you realize how at home you feel with the two being around you.

and it makes you happier knowing that these two you do anything for you, as a girlfriend and a sister.

[waytooinvested]

Small Problem... Chapter 3

You can find the full story on AO3

..................................................

Lena woke abruptly from an unintended doze to find her cheek stuck to the pages of her grimoire (damn it, she REALLY had to start treating this book with more reverence), Kara standing on her out-flung wrist, and the rest of her friends gathered around her work bench in a loose semi circle.

She sat up slowly, careful not to move her Kara-arm too much to avoid knocking her over, but unwilling to remain in such a vulnerable position with everyone staring at her.

‘What is it, did something happen? Does the world need saving?’

‘No Lena, the world doesn’t need saving, but we’re worried that maybe you do’ Alex replied.

‘Lena, we’re all here because we love you, and we want to help you. It’s been five days now, and you’ve barely left this room. You’re hardly eating, you are apparently only sleeping when you crash out at your desk, and you aren’t talking to any of us. We all know how much you want to help Kara, but you need to let the rest of us help you.’

Lena blinked back at Kelly, trying to collect herself from the haze of sleep and her sudden awakening.

‘Why does it sound like you’re holding an intervention for me?’

‘Because we’re holding an intervention for you. Sorry Lena, but Alex and Kelly are right. You barely even laughed at the photos we took of Alex’s face when she realised she’d spent the last ten minutes talking to a doll. And it was a REALLY funny face. You need help.’

Alex tutted. ‘Alright, thank you Nia, lets not get off topic.’

‘Well it was’ Nia muttered back at Alex before putting her Serious Face back on and turning her full attention to Lena.

Lena looked around the semi circle at each of them, hoping to find someone on her side, but they all looked back with the same expression of sympathetic resolve, and she knew it was hopeless. She dropped her gaze to her best friend instead, still standing on her wrist in Supergirl stance.

‘Kara, surely you’re not part of this? You know why I have to keep working. I’m doing it for you.’

‘I know, but...’

Kara dropped the hands on hips pose and shuffled her feet awkwardly (which tickled, but she was getting used to it).

‘I’m sorry Lena. This is so difficult, but you’ve been here for me ever since this happened, and I need to be here for you now. You’re my best friend, and I love you, and you need me to tell you this: you need a shower.’

‘...oh.’

Thinking back, Lena actually wasn’t sure when she had last made it home to shower. Yesterday? The day before? Longer? The fact that she had to think about it probably meant Kara had a point, but a full intervention about it seemed excessive.

‘Okay… I will go and take a shower. Thank you all for telling me, I guess. I’ll be back in an hour or so.’

‘NO you won’t.’ Alex protested. ‘This is not about the shower, it’s everything. You need to sleep, and eat, and take a break, and then you need to join the rest of us so we can work on this together. We miss you.’

They all nodded and added their own words of encouragement, and it was too much for Lena. Did they think she wanted this? She was doing it for them. She made to fold her arms defensively across her chest, but couldn’t help feeling like the gesture lost some of its power when she could only do it with one arm lest she topple Kara. She compensated with a glower.

‘You must see that I can’t do that. I still don’t know what I did to shrink Kara. What if it happens to someone else? You need to keep away from me until I figure out how to control it!’

There was silence in the room as everyone stared at her, jaws hanging slack. Apparently they didn’t see. Had none of the rest of them put two and two together about what must have happened? Alex took a step towards her, reaching out a hand as if to lay it comfortingly on her arm until Lena shook her head adamantly. Touching might be dangerous.

‘Is that really what you’ve been thinking all this time? Lena, this wasn’t your fault, you didn’t cause this!’

‘Alex is right Lena. My calculations suggest a 96% certainty that the miniaturisation was caused at least in part by an external force. It may have interacted with your magic in some way, but there is a 78.3% probability that it was entirely unrelated to you. In any case, the likelihood of a causal relationship between you returning to physical proximity with the rest of the group and a similar incident occurring is barely 0.004%.’

‘You’re wrong.’

‘That is statistically extremely implausible.’

‘I’m with Brainy. I know a thing or two about magic Lena, and what you’re saying doesn’t follow the pattern of yours. You’ve had your powers under pretty tight control for months now, and even when you were just starting out nothing like this ever happened, so why would it come up all of a sudden with no provocation? It’s not even like you were in a really intense emotional state or anything.’

‘But I was. And I was touching Kara just when it happened, so-’

Shit, she hadn’t meant to say that, but Nia had pushed, and it just slipped out.

Nia gave her a quizzical look, and although she didn’t turn to look Lena could feel everyone else doing the same, the heat of so many gazes making her cheeks burn.

Don’t ask, please just let it drop and don’t ask…

‘How come? Were you and Kara having a very quiet fight?’

Trust Alex.

‘No, we-’

They had been standing hip to hip, leaning over the book and idly discussing what spell Lena might practise next. They reached a page about a draught that would give you courage to confess true feelings to the one you loved, and Lena had felt a spike of adrenaline just at the sight of it. She had reached too quickly to turn the page just as Kara had done the same thing, and their hands collided. Their eyes had met. The butterflies had surged. Kara had shrunk. Here they were.

‘We weren’t fighting.’

‘So what were you- oh.’

Kelly was looking at her with an expression that betrayed far too much understanding, and a moment later Alex looked from her wife to Lena and her eyes widened too.

‘Oh.’

Lena’s heart was pounding now and she wanted to bury her burning face in her hands, but her wrist was still pinned by Kara and her friends were between her and the door so she couldn’t just storm out of there without first awkwardly edging past everyone. She shook her head in frantic denial. It wasn’t meant to happen this way.

‘It wasn’t. You don’t- you’re just-’

‘Lena? What was the intense emotional state you felt while we were looking at your book?’

Kara spoke as softly as she could given the level of projection required to make herself heard at this distance, and Lena reluctantly dropped her eyes to meet her friend’s. She was pretty sure her cheeks were hot enough to boil a kettle by this point, and there was no way it didn’t show. Somehow the intensity of Kara’s expression was undiminished by her tiny size, and the butterflies – god, the traitorous, ill-timed butterflies – started dancing again.

She opened her mouth to reply, and found she couldn’t make a sound. Not like this. Not in front of everyone. She just couldn’t.

‘Okay, everyone out except Lena and Kara. They clearly need some time to talk.’

Kelly started herding the others to the door, and Lena was so grateful she could have kissed her, if she wasn’t too caught up with the thought of kissing Kara to have eyes for anyone else (and also Alex would probably have murdered her if she did, but that seemed like a lesser concern right now given that Lena was kind of hoping that someone would, just so that she wouldn’t have to deal with talking about her feelings). The door was halfway shut behind the last of them and Lena was steeling herself to look back down at Kara, when Nia suddenly popped her head back into the room.

‘For the record Lena: 1. I knew it and I am super happy for you, and 2. I still think you’re wrong about what happened because if that sort of strong feeling was going to cause accidental magic, I don’t think it would be to shrink Kara. It would have done something way horni-’

‘NIA! Leave them be!’

Nia rolled her eyes, but her head retreated back into the corridor and they heard the sound of her whisper-arguing with someone, then a door banged and Lena and Kara were properly alone.

‘That girl is becoming a menace. I remember when she was so sweet and shy…’

She was trying for levity to diffuse the moment, but Kara refused to be distracted, her eyes never leaving Lena’s face.

‘But was she right? Do you… have feelings for me?’

‘Kara, I’m not sure this is the right time to have this conversa-’

‘I’m in love with you Lena.’

‘What?’ Her voice was a cracked whisper, barely there past the lump in her throat, because she had to have misheard. This had to be a dream… didn’t it?

‘I’m in love with you. I didn’t really realise until I thought I’d lost you for good, and then when I finally got you back I couldn’t bear to risk what we had by pushing for more, so I never told you. But now here you are devoting everything to helping me like you always do, and you just had to go through that in front of everyone and it was kind of my fault for being part of the whole intervention thing instead of just talking to you privately, so it’s only fair that I’m the one who says it. I am in love with you. Completely, desperately in love with you. And I want to know if you love me too.’

Lena closed her eyes, and a tear spilled down her cheek. She wanted to pull Kara into a hug. She wanted to kiss her until she forgot the feel of anything except Kara’s lips and her body pressed against hers, until she forgot her own name. But she couldn’t do that now, so instead she whispered ‘yes.’

‘Yes, I love you. I’ve been in love with you for years.’

The slight weight on Lena’s wrist disappeared as Kara lifted into the air, then there was the soft brush of fabric against her face, and Kara was wiping away tears with her cape. She came closer still, wrapping her tiny arms as far as they could go around Lena’s cheek in the closest thing she could manage to a hug. Lena laughed shakily, bringing her own hand up to cover Kara very gently. It wasn’t what she had imagined. But it was more than she had dared to hope for.

When Lena went home for the much needed shower, meal and sleep, Kara came too. She didn’t actually come into the shower (that was very much a full-size-only activity, though one she hoped to experience in the not too distant future), but she was hovering outside the bathroom door when Lena emerged and immediately settled back onto her shoulder the moment the door opened, despite her still-wet hair (as it turned out Kara was better than a blow drier, and used a moderated burst of heat vision to dry it in seconds).

They ate together, talking of small things as if everything was still as it had been between them, then Lena gave in to her exhaustion and went to bed. She did her best to make a comfortable bed on the night stand for her tiny friend (girlfriend?), carefully arranging a small cushion as a mattress and the softest sweater she could find to form a makeshift blanket, but when she woke in the night it was to find that Kara had abandoned it and was instead burrowed against her neck, cocooned in her hair like she had made herself a nest. It would be a pain to brush out in the morning, but Lena didn’t care. She raised one hand to cup around Kara’s curled form, and drifted back off to sleep.

From then on, Kara rarely left Lena’s side.

They still worked on spell options, but Lena no longer locked herself away to do it. She discussed the possibility of building some sort of de-shrink-ray with Brainy. Talked about the nature of magic with Nia. Alien powers with J’onn and Alex and what species might have traits that could be helpful. And she talked about everything with Kara.

They still didn’t have an answer to what was causing Kara’s tiny size, but they had found another answer to a question neither of them had dared ask each other for years. And now they had, Lena knew that whatever had caused this didn’t stand a chance against her. Because there was no way in the universe she was going to let some random mystery malchance magic keep her from getting to kiss Kara Danvers full on the mouth.

[tinyinvadr]

Chapter 4 is finally here!

Hide & Shrink

Chapter 4

Neither of us said a word as Ragatha set me down on my now massive bed, then took a step back to give me space. I stared up at her, not sure what I should say, if anything at all.

“So… are you good? Do you want me to stay here, or would you rather be alone? Either’s fine, of course.”

I wasn’t sure what I wanted at that point. It didn’t matter. Either way, I’d feel awful.

“You can stay if you want. I-I’m okay now, though. Just a little shaken up.”

Ragatha nodded, looking down at me with a sad expression.

“I’m sorry about what happened with Jax. I’ll have to talk to him. Can’t say he’ll listen, but he at least gets annoyed when I lecture him and tries to avoid me.”

She stopped for a moment to think about it, then sighed in defeat. “No, that won’t work, he’ll still pick on you if I’m not around. Why does he have to be so difficult?”

To be honest, I wasn’t all that worried about Jax anymore. At least, not at that moment. I was more concerned about what would happen in the long run.

“Ragatha… what happens if Caine can’t fix me?”

She gave a reassuring smile, but I could tell it looked somewhat forced this time.

“I’m sure he will… but even if he doesn’t, I promise, everything’s gonna be okay. Caine… doesn’t really understand humans at all, but from what I can tell, he’s trying. I’m sure he can come up with some way to help you. And even if he gets it wrong, you still have me and the others.”

The amount of faith she put in Caine was so strange to me. It was like she’d truly given up, and yet, she was still keeping herself together at the same time.

“How can you be sure he’s really trying? I mean, he IS the one keeping us all trapped here, isn’t he?”

“That’s what I thought at first, but now I’m not sure. He’s an AI, so he can only do what he was programmed to do. But he was trying to make an exit for us. I don’t think it’s possible for him to do that because whoever programmed him likely didn’t give him that ability, but he still tried. He knows we want to leave, but he’s incapable of getting us out. At least, that’s what I think. I could be completely wrong.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense. We’re still trapped either way, though. How… How can you stay this positive?”

Her forced smile finally fell as her gaze traveled to the floor for a second.

“Someone has to.”

We didn’t talk much after that. We just sat in my room, exchanging a few words here and there, but neither of us could really be invested in the conversation. It doesn’t matter which way you look at it. Being indefinitely trapped in the digital realm is horrible.

She left after a while, and I decided to try and get some sleep. There wasn’t much else to do anyway since I would need someone to help me get down from my bed. It would also silence my thoughts for a while, which was something I desperately needed.

I let myself sink into the mattress, wrapping myself in the oversized blankets like a nest, and shut my eyes to let my mind drift off into emptiness. For a while, I could trick my brain into thinking I wasn’t in the digital circus at all. This was my real bed, and I was back at home, having a lazy morning.

Apparently, even in the digital world I’m a heavy sleeper.

When I woke up, I wasn’t in my room, which was already terrifying on its own, but I also woke up to quickly realize that I was in motion. Someone was carrying me, but I couldn’t tell who it was. All I could see around me was a cocoon of light orange fabric.

“Heh. Look who’s finally up. Thought you passed out again or something.”

Great. Him again.

The fabric above my head was pulled aside, and all I could see was Jax’s face staring down at me. I had to be in his overall pocket.

“Jax? What were you doing in my room?”

“Somebody had to come get you for breakfast, shrimpy. Well, I don’t really care whether you eat or not, but the others sent me since I’ve got all the room keys.”

That… didn’t make sense. My door wasn’t locked, and after what happened the day before, the others never would have sent Jax to get me, right?

“Why did you really take me?” I asked, bluntly.

Jax just snickered, that smile never leaving his face.

“You know, you’re smarter than you look, and I don’t dish out compliments lightly so don’t get used to it. Anyway, this little glitch you’ve got going on right now definitely means something. It’s been a whole day and Caine still can’t change you back, which can only mean that this whole digital train wreck is bound to come crashing to a halt any day now. So I got to thinking: if we can figure out what exactly this glitch is, we can exploit the %$!# out of it, destroy this game at its core, and finally get back to our lives. Sound good?”

As much as I wanted to leave, trusting Jax was a risky move. I had to make sure I understood the fullest extent of his intentions before I could even think about agreeing to anything.

“Uh… what do you mean by ‘glitch?’”

Instead of answering, he plucked me out of his pocket without warning, holding me by my shoulders and dangling me up in the air.

“Isn’t it obvious? There’s some sort of error with your digital body that’s blocking out Caine’s control. All we need to do is run a few tests to find out what it is and how to use it.”

I didn’t like where this was going, and I especially didn’t like the sight of the floor so far down below me. But I had to choose my words carefully, since I already knew firsthand that Jax would not hesitate to drop me again if I upset him.

“Can I… get back to you on that?”

There was something about his ever-present smirk that changed. It was almost sinister.

“Who said you had a choice?”

I froze for a second as I processed his words, then, in a desperate attempt to get away, I started kicking and wiggling my shoulders. The whole time, Jax just laughed like this was the funniest thing he ever saw.

It felt like I was kicking and screaming forever, until Jax suddenly plopped me onto his other hand, giving me a solid surface to sit on. Before I could question him any further, I noticed that Caine popped up next to us.

“Good morning, you two! Are you ready for today’s adventure?”

Jax’s demeanor suddenly changed, as if he hadn’t just been tormenting me.

“Appreciate the offer, Caine, but Pomni and I are gonna sit this one out.”

I had to say something. This was my only way out.

“NO WAIT CAINE I WANNA GO WITH YOU!!!”

Caine took a second to process what I said, then let out a cheerful laugh.

“Of course! Now, let’s see, Ragatha told me to try this with you…”

I was shocked when he offered his hand for me to climb on instead of grabbing me. He really was paying attention and trying to match my comfort levels.

Without hesitation, I scrambled onto his hand and curled up into a ball as he held me to his chest for support.

“See you later, Jax! Let me know if you change your mind!”

Jax didn’t say a word. He was too dumbfounded that I went off with Caine even though I was nervous around him.

As we floated down the hall, I realized he wasn’t teleporting to the main stage as usual. Just like Ragatha, he was moving very slowly so I wouldn’t get anxious or sick.

“Glad to see you’re doing better, Pomni. I’m new to this soft, quiet approach, but it seems to work for you, so I’ll keep doing it.”

It was strange to hear him talking in a somewhat calm voice. I could tell he was struggling to keep his constantly upbeat and energetic personality at bay, but I couldn’t help but be impressed by the effort he was willing to put in for my sake. Maybe he really could be reasoned with.

“Caine? Is it okay if I don’t go on the adventure today? I know I said I wanted to, but I just wanted to get away from Jax…”

He suddenly stopped, hovering in place as he looked down at me, concerned.

“That’s… That’s quite alright, but… if everyone else is busy with the adventure and Jax doesn’t want to participate, then there won’t be anyone around to make sure he doesn’t bother you. Unless you stay with me, but I don’t want the others to think I’m picking favorites…”

I honestly didn’t think anyone would care. I certainly didn’t, I only wanted to avoid being a lab rat for that crazy rabbit.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. I’m sure they’ll understand.”

“Alrighty then! That means you’ll get to have a day of fun with me and Bubble! Ah- sorry, I mean… you’ll get to spend the day doing whatever you’re comfortable with.”

I shut my eyes, letting out a sigh of relief. I could work with this. Everything would be okay.

As we continued to travel down the hall, I could feel Caine’s fingers brush against the back of my head. It startled me, but I recognized that this was another attempt at giving me security.

He really was trying.

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Don’t Go Blindly Into The Dark

Summary:

To hide that he can't read, Jan Van Eck has been forcing his son to pretend he's blind since he was eight years old. Wylan is now attending Ketterdam University, and meeting Jesper Fahey may very well be about to change his life. But is he safe to tell Jesper the truth? And what will Jesper say if he does?

Jesper is struggling to weigh up his life in the Barrel and his life at the University of Ketterdam, and there's a good chance that his growing debt is about to make the decision for him. He hasn't attended class consecutively for months, but maybe that will change when his newest project includes partnering up with Wylan Van Eck. But can he really leave the Barrel behind him? And how long can he keep up the pretence of who he thinks Wylan wants him to be?

Meanwhile there is a darkness growing in Ketterdam, and it seems a killer may be stalking the streets of West Stave. An unknown evil is closing its jaws over the city, and it’s starting to feel like nowhere is safe.

Tags: @justalunaticfangirl @lunarthecorvus @i-need-help-this-is-my-obsession @devoted-people-hater

If anyone else would like to be tagged let me know :)

Content warnings for this chapter: grief, abuse references, violence references, child abuse references, implied imprisonment, implied threats, fear of abuse

AO3 link

Chapter 62 - Wylan

There was a raised edge all along the length of Jesper’s mattress, where the fabric was sewn together and turned through. The ridge presumably ran around the mattress’ entire circumference - because otherwise where were the stitches? - but Wylan hadn’t explored any further than the section of it currently gripped so tightly in his hand that it was almost definitely pressing indents into his palms. The floorboards were a tumultuous ocean beneath his feet. He’d never been one for seasickness, but he thought he might be about to develop it. Why could nothing stay still and steady?

Wylan wasn’t sure exactly when it had been that his father caught on to his friendship with Anya, but he knew that it had been a long time before he sent her away. Wylan could only be sure that he’d known for definite after one catastrophic evening, when he was maybe thirteen, but he might have known for longer. The only thing he could hold onto was that his father had never known about him telling Anya the truth about his sight - Ghezen only knew what he would’ve done to her if he had. There had been a knot tied in the pit of Wylan’s stomach for years over that thought; the stupid running of his mouth that might have led to Anya washing up dead in a harbour even younger than she had done. 

Oh Ghezen, he really was going to throw up. 

That evening, when they knew for certain that Jan Van Eck was dangerously aware of their friendship, he’d come home earlier than anyone was expecting. Wylan had been in the Grisha workshop and passed however many blissful minutes, he couldn’t be sure of the exact number, completely unaware that his father was marching through the house searching for his son. If he’d moved faster, been found in any other room of the house, and alone at that, he could’ve kept Anya out of the way.

Their entire relationship, it would seem, was built on Wylan never being quick enough to save her. 

It had been well over an hour afterwards, in fact probably more like three, that Wylan’s bedroom door creaked nervously open; trapped somewhere between haste and hesitation. Wylan had been crouched between the end of his bed and the wall with his knees pressed up against his chest, trying to make himself as small as he could possibly be. He wanted to shrink to the size of a pinhead and crawl beneath the bed or the floorboards, to hide so thoroughly that it seemed to the entire world he had simply vanished. No questions asked, no suspicions raised. Just there one moment, gone the next. When he heard the door, though, he stumbled hurriedly to his feet, straightening the shirt cuffs that he’d been crumpling inside his fists as though two seconds of shaking them out would heal them of creases and folds. It was probably - almost definitely - just a servant bringing him something to eat, but Wylan’s heart rate wasn’t doing a very good job of listening to the logic his brain was trying to offer him. And at any rate, he didn’t want them to see him cry. 

He reached vaguely for his cane, discarded somewhere on his bed, without relenting to turn his head and see where he’d dropped it and instead keeping his eyes slightly unfocused on the edge of the doorframe. Whatever he might have been thinking, he honestly couldn’t have said, he knew that he hadn’t been expecting to see Anya peering nervously round the door. 

“Anya- what-?”

She pressed a finger to her lips and made an almost violent shushing sound as she pushed the door closed behind her. For a moment she stood with her back pressed against it, eyes closed. Wylan watched her chest rise and fall, her breaths deep and full. His fingers wrapped back around his shirt cuffs and began to crush them against his palm again. 

“What did he do to you?”

Anya glanced at him for a moment before she stood up properly from where she’d been leaning and walked a few short steps into the room. 

“I’m fine,” she promised, which was resolutely not an answer. 

“Anya-”

“Look at me,” she tried to smile at him, but her eyes were sad and maybe even a little distant, “I’m fine,”

Wylan shook his head. She could have erased any sign of injury in moments - and he would have told her to.

“Why are you here?”

Anya looked confused - and almost hurt. What the hell was she thinking? This couldn’t end well for anyone, least of all her. 

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,”

Wylan stared at her. 

“Anya, what did he do?”

“I told you, it’s fine,” she lied again, “But you - here-”

She stepped forwards, raising her hand slightly, and Wylan barely registered what she was saying as he stumbled a pace away from her. 

“Here, let me-” she broke off for a moment, freezing in place.

Her eyes settled on Wylan, stark and patient; fixated. He adjusted his shoulders, matching her gaze even as he pulled his fingers close against his palm and tucked his thumb inside the safe hollow of his fist. 

“You should go,” he whispered. 

“Please let me Heal you,”

He shook his head again. 

“You can’t. You know you can’t; he’ll know that you were here,”

“Wylan-”

She stepped forwards again and Wylan paced backwards until he bumped into his mattress. 

“Wylan, please, at least let me-”

“Get out,”

Anya faltered. She stood in the centre of the room like a player on the stage - not that Wylan remembered ever going to the theatre, though he knew he’d been when he was very little. Her kefta, which had never fit her exactly right, was uneven on her shoulders and he could see the grey wool of her tunic peeking from beneath it. She always wore a slim gold necklace; usually it was kept tucked close out of sight and against her skin but now it was caught on her collar and the tiny pendant was half visible where the chain had been pulled higher. Wylan had only seen the pendant once or twice before, when Anya had been playing with it in nervous habit - usually she hid it away again as soon as she noticed she was doing it, but occasionally she would drop it distractedly outside of her kefta. It was a small gold circle, thin as paper, barely big enough to hold the Ravkan character cautiously engraved into its surface. Wylan had never built up the nerve to ask her what it said; now he’d never know. 

“I’m sorry,” she’d breathed, stepping back slowly, hands half-raised in surrender, “I didn’t-”

“Get out,” he’d repeated, unable to meet her eye. 

A horrible moment hung in the air, stretching for the endless eternity that exists in between each second. Wylan didn’t look up when he heard Anya move, or when he saw her vanish from the corner of her eye. He waited until the door was closed once more, and sank onto the edge of his bed. He remembered letting his cane clatter to the floorboards beneath him, and pressing his palms into the thick seam of his mattress. 

Wylan blinked, trying to bring himself back to the real world. Jesper at his side, the floor solid beneath his shoeless feet. Anya gone. 

“Wylan?”

He could still feel the shadow of Jesper’s palm gently pressed against his cheek, his thumb light over a rope of scar tissue, though they had both since pulled away. I want to be something to you. Wylan breathed. 

He couldn’t really explain why he had tried to kiss Jesper. He knew it had been the wrong thing to do, but… I want to be something to you. Well, he didn’t think that he regretted it. 

Not that that was doing anything for the clenching pain in his stomach, or the bile in his throat, or any of the thousand screams inside his mind. He gripped the side of the mattress even tighter, even though his knuckles had probably already turned white. Jesper shuffled a little closer, and after a moment Wylan felt his hand hesitantly closing over the top of his own. He let it happen, releasing his shoulders downwards and easing his grip as Jesper’s fingers wove in between his. 

“I know what you’re doing,” he whispered. 

He could almost imagine Jesper’s smile. 

“Is it working?”

Wylan released both of his hands from the mattress, and turned over his right to return Jesper’s hold properly. 

“Maybe,” 

Jesper released a small breath in a way that was almost a laugh. 

“Do you want to keep talking?”

“Not really,” Wylan murmured, his eyes still fixed on his own socks. 

He had kicked his shoes off when he pulled his feet onto the bed, and now they were out of his field of vision. One tiny slip up, one unwitting glance across the floor to find them, and he stood to ruin everything he had so tenuously managed to construct between himself and Jesper. It felt like he’d built a city on a rope bridge over a canyon, and kept promising Jesper that they were on solid ground. I want to be something to you. Oh fuck fuck fuck. Now what was he going to do? 

“Do you want me to walk you home?” asked Jesper, gently, his hand still holding Wylan’s safe and steady. 

“I…” Wylan paused, “Yes, please. That would…”

He wasn’t really sure where else that sentence had been intending on carrying him, but he broke it off into a nod and Jesper gently squeezed his fingers before dropping his hand and bouncing up onto his feet. Wylan dared to lift his gaze up towards the source of the sound as Jesper picked up his shoes and gently eased them into his hands, telling Wylan what he was doing as he did it and being kind enough to make it feel casual. Once they were both ready - Wylan back in his shoes and Jesper with his discarded jacket back over his shoulders - they walked out of the Slat and back towards Wylan’s boarding house in mostly silence. Wylan’s mind swam with too many thoughts to keep track of, but always it brought him back to Anya - in the Grisha workshop, smiling her slow smile; in the centre of his room with her necklace caught on her collar, brown eyes sad and distant; an image constructed in his head of a body lying in the shallows, soaking hair plastered to her cheeks, eyes blank and unseeing. What had happened in that house? Maybe it really was as simple as a plague outbreak, Anya taking the first opportunity she found to make a run for it and getting caught in the unforgiving violence of the True Sea. But for some reason Wylan felt like there was something else, and whatever it was he did not trust it. 

Jesper walked upstairs with him and hovered beyond the door whilst Wylan unlocked it; maybe not sure if he should stay or go? Wylan didn’t really want to direct him either way, so he just opened the door and waited a beat to see what Jesper would do. For a moment nothing happened, but then Jesper stepped inside and Wylan followed. 

“Oh, that’s weird,” said Jesper. 

Wylan was standing with one hand against the wall for balance as he undid his shoes, paying less attention than he should have been to the room he’d just stepped into. In the corner of his eye, he could see the shape of Jesper leaning briefly down to collect something from just next to the doormat.

“What?” Wylan asked, still not quite paying attention. 

“You’ve got a letter,”

Jesper’s voice was casual. Wylan’s blood ran cold. 

He spun on his heel, one shoe still on, to see almost everything that could have gone wrong in this exact moment standing three feet away from him. Jesper was holding a creamy white envelope, studying the address side where it must bear Wylan’s name. He was already frowning - it must say Van Eck, Wylan supposed, when everyone in the Barrel called him Hendriks. But it was about to get so much worse. Because Jesper hadn’t turned it over yet. He hadn’t yet seen what Wylan could see. He hadn’t yet seen the red wax seal with a laurel imprint. 

“Who would be writing to you?” Jesper asked, more rhetorically than anything else, and then: “Want me to open it?”

“Jesper put that down,”

Jesper looked up at him in surprise, brow half furrowed. For a brief, blissful moment, Wylan thought that maybe he’d comply and never mention it again. Luck never went Wylan’s way. Jesper turned the envelope over. 

There were several letters from Jan Van Eck hidden beneath Wylan’s mattress. They’d been coming consistently ever since the first, that had prompted him to Brekker’s stupid schemes. Oh Ghezen, what had he done? 

“Wylan…”

“Jesper, please-”

“Wylan, this is from your father,”

“No, it’s nothing, Jesper, I swear-”

Wylan tried to reach and grab the letter from Jesper’s hand, but Jesper pulled backwards and turned it over again; scanning the words as though they might have changed since he last read them

 “Wylan, he knows where you are - Saints - we have to move you, I don’t… you can stay at the Slat, and I’ll-”

“No, Jesper, please-”

Wylan grabbed at the envelope again and this time Jesper glanced at him in surprise, but still held it out of his reach.

“Wylan you can’t stay here, if he-”

“Give it to me,”

“I- here,” Jesper handed the letter over, “But Wylan, how - I mean what does he even-?”

“You should leave,”

Jesper blinked. 

“What?”

“Get out,” Wylan snapped, the letter creasing between his fingers as he tensed. 

Jesper’s expression was stung. 

“Wylan - I didn’t mean-” there was a strange pause and Wylan felt distinctly watched, as though Jesper’s eyes on him had changed from anything usual into a close study, “Just let me take you back to the Slat,” he said, a little hesitantly. Even suspiciously? The rope bridge creaked beneath Wylan’s feet, “You can stay there until we find you somewhere else to go, Kaz can get you somewhere under a fake name, or-”

“I told you to get out,”

“Wylan-”

“Now,”

Wylan could feel his breathing tensing and getting out of control again. He tightened his fist until his nails were digging almost painfully into his palm, and tried to suppress his shivering as he watched Jesper confusedly retreat through the door. He didn’t close it. In fact, he turned back over his shoulder like he might be about to say something else. Wylan slammed the door so it rattled against its hinges, then pressed forehead against the wood and slid slowly towards the ground. The letter crumpled into a ball inside his fist. 

[ikatako38]

Another Update

Do people even read these anymore?

Hi!

TL;DR: read last paragraph (bolded)

First of all… I miss you all so much!!! As I always say, thank you so much to everyone reading this for sticking around. It really means the world to me.

This summer has been extremely rough for me. I don’t need to rehash the details, I’m your curious I believe I gave some in a previous update. The important part is that I’m finally doing better now. For the first time in over a year really, I finally feel like I’m same strange enough to begin focusing on myself a little bit again, rather than just surviving. And part of that is making time to write and engage with fandom!

At the same time, it is also sadly true that, especially with the Grand Festival behind us, the Splatoon fandom is slowly going dormant. Many of the Splatoon creators I know are moving on to different fandoms. Especially for a Splatoon 2 fic, the interest level is understandably small and ever-shrinking. Much of today’s Splatoon fandom never even played the second game or Octo Expansion. And a lot of that is due to my own timing; I’ve been behind since the beginning, and long hiatuses squandered much of the wave of interest coming from Splatoon 3.

That being said, I can try to be proud about the things I did accomplish in that time. A Discord server that’s a bit quieter but still thriving after nearly two years, my longest single project ever at over 500 pages, tons of beautiful fanart that I still look at often because they make me so happy, so many friendships… some short-lived but others genuine and hopefully long-lasting—and above all, so many amazing memories that I hope I can cherish for years and years.

And that’s really important for me to remember. Truth is, and I don’t even think I fully recognized this until now, but I’ve definitely been struggling with a feeling of failure surrounding TPWCH. And that’s in no way because of, but rather really in spite of all you readers, who have been nothing but supportive, often not just as a fan but as a friend. So that you for that! ^_^ But what can I say, I’m hard on myself. That feeling makes me avoid writing, which only increases the feeling of failure, and so on and so forth.

But putting it all together, I have no idea why it took so long, but I’m finally realizing that the kind of engagement I’m clinging to is just not possible anymore… and not because of any fault of my own. People just… move on. Fandoms ebb and flow (hah). Even I haven’t been nearly as involved in Splatoon as I used to be.

So… I’m going to try to fully let go of that blame and regret. I used guilt to motivate myself, and it worked for a while, but eventually it just burned me out. I used to think it was cliché and dumb, but I really do need to learn to just write for myself and my friends (yes, that includes you!)

So, what’s the plan then?

My plan, for now, is to do something I haven’t done since the very beginning of the fic: create a buffer. My obsession with pushing content the moment it’s ready has not only caused me stressed but also a poorer reading experience for you all.

I’m going to take down the Part 1 Recap. Then, I’m going to keep working on the Part 2 Recap, Chapter #22.5, and Chapter #23. The nice thing about this is that I can work on them in any order I want, or simultaneously! When I finish, likely near the end of the year, I’ll post the Part 1 Recap, Part 2 Recap, Chapter #22.5, and each part of Chapter #23 at regular intervals. That should give me some time to work on Chapter #24 as those are releasing, and we’ll see where things go from there! By then, I’ll be headed to Japan, and who knows what that will be like!

That may feel like a long time away, but don’t fear! I’ll also be posting Sneak Peeks here irregularly, so you can still have a little content to hold you over and keep up the excitement!

Thank you as always to everyone who has had an impact on my life through this fic! You all mean so incredibly much to me 🥹

[cannedbeefaroni]

What's the betting that mr manipulate, mansplain, malewife, Calvin acts like a pissy, jealous little brat when he wants your attention and/or he wants you to hate fuck him. And you know what it would work everytime, like call me a fucking slut again you whore I dare you.

He can't keep getting away with it!!

I LIKE YOUR THINKING ANON LEMME WRITE THIS

Summary: Your boyfriend is an annoying brat so you try to put him in his place.

Content: SMUT (MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT), SLUTSHAMING, DEGREDATION, HATEFUCK, femdom, malesub, switch, maledom, femsub, oral sex, p in v sex, Calvin is a piece of shit

Reader is referred to as you/yours and has AFAB genitalia

There you were, lounging on Calvin’s couch in deafening silence. You could hear a wall clock somewhere in the house ticking, and it was driving you insane. You tried to keep to yourself, doing whatever on your phone to occupy yourself while he sat across from you on his laptop, shaking his leg. You glanced over at him, noticing how clearly still upset he was, and you sighed, realizing you had to address the situation once again. 

“Cal, what’s on your mind,” you shoved your phone in your pocket, turning all your attention towards him, but he remained preoccupied. 

“What do you mean? I’m absolutely fine,” he said nonchalantly with a slight sarcastic tone. 

“Oh my g- Cal, if you’re gonna act like a baby over this then you’ll never get over it,” you spat while walking over to him to shut his laptop and force direct eye contact. He rolls his eyes. 

“Look, I’m just saying, am I so wrong and crazy for being mad about you talking to men who are clearly trying to flirt with you? Especially right in front of me?” he whined, making your blood boil. 

“What the hell are you talking about? All this just because one guy was bothering me today?”

“Yeah, well, you were engaging him.”

“Because he wouldn’t leave me alone! God, what was I supposed to do?” you crane your neck downward, glaring at him sitting so smugly on the couch looking up at you. 

“I dunno, maybe yell at the guy ‘hey, fuck you, I have a boyfriend, fuck off’ and don’t make them think they have a chance with you?” he jeers.

“I don’t wanna cause a scene in public! I’m not an immature brat like you.”

“Yeah, well at least I’m not a slut,” he says under his breath, causing you to laugh.

“Oh yeah? Huh? Tell me how you really feel, Calvin. Go ahead,” you exclaim with a mixture of anger and amusement. He shrinks into his seat, but he’s still smiling. 

“I bet you did that on purpose. You knew what you were doing when you decided to go out today in that tiny dress. I could see your whole world in that thing, and I’m pretty sure everyone else could too!” his bratty tone was grating. You seethed, staring at him with narrowed eyes. 

“If you’re trying to get on my nerves it’s working,” you say through gritted teeth. “What are you trying to get out of this?” you lean against the back of the couch, pinning him in place with your arms on either side of him.

“You’re the one making this into a big deal,” he whispers. 

“Do you like it when I get mad at you?” you lean in, staring him down. You begin crawling onto the couch, your knees pressing into the edge of the cushions. “Because right now I wanna kill you.” 

“No,” he sinks into the couch, tensing up. 

“Then why won’t you stop fucking smiling?” your face inches closer to his as you sneer. 

“Because you’re cute when you’re mad,” he grins at you, pushing you over the edge.

“Shut the fuck up,” you slap your hand over his mouth, and he gasps against it. He looks up at you with wide eyes. “Are you kidding? This is really what you wanted out of all this?” you stare into him, and he nods frantically. “You little shit-” you push him down against the couch and climb on top of him, tightly pinning him down. He whimpers with each of your movements, making you lash out, telling him to shut up again. You bring yourself up so you’re sitting on his chest, dangerously close to his face. You pull off your panties from under your skirt, and toss them aside. You get up and hover over his head. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“Y-yeah,” he whines under you. 

“Then you’re gonna have to beg for it, slut,” you spat, resting your upper body on your elbows as you kept your pelvis elevated in position. 

“Please, sit on my face,” he mumbles breathlessly. 

“You can do better than that. After that stunt you pulled, you gotta try harder,” you tease. 

“P-please… ma’am,” he whispers. 

“What?”

“Please! Please fuck my face, ma’am. Please let me be your good boy,” he cried out, body convulsing with each breath, making you laugh. 

“God, you sound so stupid when you get like that,” you taunt as you lower yourself, sitting on his face. The second his mouth makes contact, he mouths at your clit, licking it. You don’t hold your weight and let yourself onto him, and he doesn’t oppose. He wraps his arms around your thighs as he eagerly laps you up. His tongue drags to your hole, licking it in circles before sticking it in. He’s madly making out with your pussy as fluids drip down his chin, and you just hang your head down, watching him grovel underneath. His tongue fucks you frantically, and his lips suck on your folds.Your fingers lace through his hair, pushing it back to get a better view of his desperate eyes, then you grab it forcefully. He whines into your pussy as you ride his face. Desperately, he stares up at you, eyes glimmering. You throw your head back in ecstasy, moaning loudly as he whimpers against your pussy. “You better not be fucking touching yourself, you little whore,” you look behind yourself to see his lower half, and he’s palming himself over his pants. You clench your thighs around his face, suffocating him. He squeals, flailing around a little before tapping your thigh to stop. You lift yourself up, letting him catch his breath. His face is beet red, his glasses are askew and slightly fogged up, and the area around his mouth is soaked. “You’re so much prettier when you shut the fuck up,” you coo at him, demeaningly. 

You move down his body and sit on his thighs so you can pull his pants down. His cock springs out, harder than you expected it to be. It bobs against his stomach, red and dripping with precum. You watch it twitch before giving it a few jerks. “So easy. You’re ready to cum just from me sitting on your face.”

“I’m not even close,” he smirks, causing you to grip him tightly, making him whimper in pain. 

“I’d fuck you, but I don’t know if you can even last a minute like this,” you demean as you tightly and slowly stroke his cock. 

“I can last!” he whines. You let go of his aching dick, and he moans desperately at the lack of contact. You grind on his cock torturously slow, and his breathing hitches. Your hand finds his neck, grabbing it as you rut your hips in a circular motion. 

“Are you gonna quit being a little brat and be a good boy for me?” you sneer.

“Mmh,” he turns his head, looking away. 

“Look at me,” you grab his face, squishing his cheeks as you force him to look at you. 

“Mhm. Yes ma’am,” he nods. 

“Good. I wanna use this pretty cock of yours,” you hum, listening to him mewl in pleasure from the way you degrade him. 

You lower yourself onto his swollen dick slowly as he gasps from the sensation. His mouth hangs open as he throws his head back. You began riding him shallowly, leaning forward directly over him, trapping him between your arms. You loosen your hips, swinging them in a circular motion, skin slapping against skin. You grind your hips down on him, taking him deeper, causing him to exhale sharply. His hips twitch as he leaks into you. He stares up at you desperately. 

“Oh my god- fuck, please don’t stop- don’t stop,” he cries, hands gripping your thighs, fingers digging into your skin. 

“I thought you weren’t even close?” you smirk, bringing your face down to his. You slow your pace, making him groan viscerally from your long, deep strokes. 

“Fuck, you won’t stop clamping down,” he grunts while grabbing onto your hips for dear life. 

“You can’t cum until I say so,” you giggle, slowing your pace, grinding yourself on his base. He continues to grip your body with clawed fingers, grabbing at the fat of your thighs and ass. You lean down and place a sloppy kiss on his wet lips, and his hand comes up to grab the back of your neck, keeping you firmly against him. His lips part as he tilts his head, shoving his tongue down your throat. You make muffled moans against his mouth as he fucks you hard and quickly. He pulls his cock all the way out and shoves it back in all at once, making you squeal. 

“I’ll just have to make you finish first,” he pants against your lips before messily making out with you again. 

“Ugh! I hate you!” you whine, putting your head on his shoulder as he fucks you visciously with his arms squeezed around your waist. You felt like you were losing at a game of who gets to dominate.

“Yeah? You hate me so much you wanna cum all over my cock?” 

“You’re so fucking annoying!” 

“You love how I annoy you,” he grunts in your ear. You lift yourself up, hovering over him as you let your ass bounce on his lap as he fucks you. He stares at your tits as they swing in rhythm with your body, spilling from the low neckline of your top. He moves his hands up your body to your chest, groping you. You gasp as he fondles the tender flesh, and pulls your top all the way down to play with your hardened nipples. “Fuck, you’re getting so close, I can feel it.”

“Shut up!” you cry, squeezing your eyes shut from the overstimulation. You feel his lips latch onto your breast before he sucks and bites gently on it, marking the skin. 

“Come on. Cum for me,” he pulls your head down to whisper against your lips before viciously kissing you, throwing you over the edge. You scream, unable to keep your voice down. Every muscle in your lower half tenses, putting his dick in a vice. Your cunt throbs around him, and you grab his shoulders so tightly your fingers dig into them. In the midst of your orgasm, he pulls out and lifts you off of him, making you sit on your knees, blissfully unaware of him standing up in front of you. You desperately finger yourself, feeling empty, while you stare up at him pumping his cock over your face as his eyes narrow down at you. He grabs your jaw and forces your mouth open before blowing his load all over your face. It shoots out hard, and there’s a lot. You gasp and pant as he rubs the tip of his cock on your tongue to get every last bit out. Once he’s done, he glares down at you with your tongue out for a moment before telling you to swallow, and you do so thickly, cringing at the sour taste. 

“That’s not fair! I was trying to be dominant!” you whine. 

“Try harder next time,” he wipes the cum from your lip with his thumb, then brings it to his mouth, sucking it clean.

[acourtofthought]

Also, Nesta sleeping with a bunch of different males after the war and after what Cassian said to her, wishing he could’ve had more time with her… Like Nesta already had that pull towards him, and slept with many others, lost her virginity to another male. Yes, it was part of her self destruction, but could it not also have been to just forget about Cassian and those feelings towards him?? Who is to say that is not exactly what Elain is/was doing with Azriel?? To try and deny what she feels towards Lucien??

We still have no idea how Elain truly feels about anything, what her inner monologue is like. Could she be head over heels in love with Azriel? Yeah, it’s possible. Could she be fighting against the pull towards Lucien? Also possible. We literally have no idea what’s going on inside her mind. We know Elain by other peoples observation and thoughts about her, but have yet to learn what she is actually like and how she feels, besides the little sneakpeaks of her in SF and how she talked to Nesta.

And going off that, I very much doubt Elain would be happy and content in a relationship with Az—who does not believe she is strong enough to face the Dread Troves. That’s my interpretation of it all at least. I could obviously be wrong, and maybe it’ll be E/riel as an endgame. We don’t know, but I very much doubt it, but I don’t doubt the fact that Sarah has a plan and if she decides that they are endgame then I trust their story will make sense once we have more of Elain’s pov. I’d much rather have Gwynriel, for so many reasons, but if it’s not… well, they’re not my characters and Sarah will without a doubt explain why any characters end up together, and I’m positive it’ll be a good book.

I feel like that’s a big difference, that E/riels are so set on them being endgame, that they can’t even see the crumbs left by Sarah that started the Gwyn x Azriel ship from start. We didn’t ship them out of nowhere. It’s like nothing else is possible in their heads and that is the biggest reason I think a lot of them will be very surprised when we get to see into Elain’s head at last. Because, there is a reason why we haven’t yet, and it’s not because she is a secret spy in training.

And that is a very insightful hypothesis that delves deep into the character's emotions rather than keeping everything so surface level. These are mating bonds and it's very silly to assume it's truly that easy for Elain to ignore, that she really has no interest in Lucien, that she's not even a little attracted to him when he's canonically hot and she has a link to his soul. Elain has gone through a ton since the start of the series and she lost the future that she thought she truly wanted. It's not like Feyre who kind of hated her life, like Nesta who also despised many of the humans herself, Elain was happy. She is the only one we saw flushed and brilliant and surrounded by friends in the human world, with the cook doting on her and someone she loved and wanted to marry. Then she lost her father on top of it? Who she loved versus Feyre and Nesta who were much less fond of him? Yet somehow within a year she's peachy-keen? Loving her NC life and so into Az? It doesn't ring true no matter what certain lines of text say especially when many other lines of text contradict it.

Sarah could still write Elain with Az of course but I'd bet money on the fact that her behavior around Lucien is not because "she has no interest in him". I would bet more money that her shrinking back into herself is a result of her being overwhelmed or scared how he can see her despite her attempts at convincing everyone she's fine. Elain isn't fine because if she were she'd have no story to tell. If she truly is happy in the NC, truly BFF's with the wraiths, truly wants Az and truly has no interest in Lucien then why was Az given a POV instead of Elain? Why did we not witness their almost kiss from her perspective or get her thoughts immediately following? Why didn't Sarah write her anguish at returning the necklace, how it pained her to do so but it pained her more to continue seeing it? Would that not have cleared up the confusion so readers could say with certainty "Elain isn't over Az, she's just sad" rather than "Elain gave that gift back and didn't spare him a single look the rest of the book." If everything Elain wants is so obvious then why did every other character likely to have a book receive a POV but her? Lucien, Cassian, Mor, Az, Nesta. You're right, there was no need for Elain being a super secret spy to be brought up during the events of Solstice in her POV so that's not a great excuse for why we're not in her head which means there's something quite damning in her thoughts that Sarah is hiding. Something like she's not all that happy in the NC, she's not as into Az as some thing, something like she's all atwitter anytime her mate is around and it drives her wild so she's trying to avoid looking his way. I still can't get over the fact that some think Gwynriel is a fandom created ship rather than there being very strong evidence to support a mating bond between them while they'll claim Vassa and Lucien are a sure thing.

[captain-mj]

The Remains pt 2

Ghost meets Soap and is unimpressed. He gets terrible news

Ghost held his hands in front of him. His gloves covered the claws on his hands. With his wings pressed against his body, he almost looked human. He caught a glimpse of his reflection, seeing the sharp gleam of his eyes, the odd way he stood. 

Almost human. 

“For this mission, you’re going to have a different handler.” Shepherd’s voice was grating and his message wasn’t much better.

“What reason, sir?”

“Because Price can’t be there. Now technically, you outrank the new guy, but I need you to work with him, understood? No going AWOL.”  

“Understood, sir.” Ghost stalked forward, hands behind his back. 

“His name is Soap MacTavish.” 

“Soap? The hell kind of name is Soap?” Ghost hissed to himself. He picked him out almost immediately, watched as the short little man bounded straight up to him and punched his shoulder. 

“Let’s get us a win, yeah, LT?” Soap smiled at him. “Save ya a seat, sir.”

“Fucking hell.” He watched Soap jog away from him. That guy? Really?

“Ghost, you copy?”

“Yes, sir.” 

“Any issues?” A ton of them. Ghost didn’t play well with others and he certainly didn’t want to play with this guy. 

“Negative, sir.” He settled in next to Soap on the stupid truck. It was cramped. Everyone looked to be around Soap’s build, meaning half his size. He spared a brief glance at Soap. 

“So, you’re who I’m going to be handling?”

Ghost stared down at him as hard as he could, wanting him to shrink back. 

Soap smiled. “Not a big talker? That’s alright.” He reached up as if to touch him and Ghost immediately grabbed his wrist to shove it back into his chest.

“Don’t touch me. Ever. I don’t care that some idiot put you in charge of me. You don’t ever fucking touch me.” Ghost growled.

“Understood, Lt.” Soap nodded and Ghost watched him swallow shakily. Good. Fear was good. “No touching.”

Ghost settled back in his seat. He’d get chewed out for this. He just fucking knew it. But Soap shut up and that’s all he cared about. It went normally. 

After the mission, he had his normal jitters. That was fine, routine. He went straight to Price’s room, pulling off his jacket so his wings could stretch. His mask was next, landing next to his jacket. 

Like usual, he waited to get out of the rest of his clothes, but he splayed himself over the bed, stretching out. He hoped Price would hurry up. 

His body started to ache, a familiar feeling. Energy coursing under his skin. 

The door opened and he forced himself to relax more.

“Simon.” Price said gently. He sounded just the slightest bit sad again.

“John.” He looked up, head tilting slightly. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. We need to talk.” Price looked at him carefully. 

Ghost frowned, anxiety spiking. “Why? Everything alright? Is the ba-”

“The base is fine, Simon. You’re fine. Everyone is safe. There’s been… some changes lately. I told you when I first became Captain that I didn’t know how long they’d let me continue handling you.”

No. No. No.

Ghost tensed, preparing himself for the ax. For Price to tell him it was all over. The world ended and he’d die soon. 

“They no longer want me as your primary handler. I’m sorry, Simon. I tried to convince them, but….” He reached up, ruffling the blond hair and letting his fingers run over the soft feathers along his ears. They were pressed against his head at the moment as he tried to calm himself. Panic bubbled inside him and he thought of vomiting. Or freaking out. Maybe if he caused a big enough problem, they’d keep him from having to change handlers. 

No. He knew they wouldn’t care. They’d put him down. No need for dangerous things like him if you couldn’t control them. 

“They have a new one already set up. I’ve talked with him, he’s not bad. And you’ll still be on my team. I’ll be your captain, just not your handler.” Price reassured. 

Ghost lashed out immediately, shoving him away. He stood up and went to snap at him when Price shoved him hard, splaying him across the bed. The message was clear, he wasn’t getting out of this.

“Who?” Ghost gritted out after a moment. 

“Johnny Soap MacTavish. You’ll be meeting him soon an-”

“Met him earlier. Can’t fucking stand him.” That wasn’t true. After the initial ride, he found he didn’t mind Soap too much. He was given plenty of lead and Soap didn’t give him any orders. Which is how it fucking should be. He wasn’t a dog that needed to be reigned in for fuck’s sake. 

“Simon. It’s not an order from me. It’s from Shepherd and Laswell.”

Laswell? That stung. Traitor. His skin burned with the feeling and he realized once again that his body didn’t know how to do anything right. He sat up again and Price didn’t push him down. 

“It might be good.” Price pointed out. “You need social interaction besides me.”

“No, I don’t.” Ghost didn’t like change. It was hard enough trusting Price after he found him in Mexico. Now he had to trust this new guy?

“Yes, you do. You’re still…” Price cut himself off, realizing his mistake.

“Still what, John?”

“Ghost.” A warning.

“Still human?”

Price looked at him sadly.

“That was ruined. I most certainly am not human anymore. And I don’t need a handler. I don’t need any of you.” Ghost was lashing out. He couldn’t tell by his behavior, but he could certainly tell by the look Price gave him. A displeased look that Ghost hated.

“Ghost, you know by now that most of it isn’t for you. It’s for the higher ups. It’s security for them. And you most certainly do need someone sometimes.” Price watched as Ghost pulled on his mask, retied his jacket to look human again. Proper. 

“What do you know about him? I threatened him on the mission. Maybe he’s the type to hold a grudge.” Ghost’s hands were steady. His voice steady. But his thoughts were disjointed, painfully afraid and exposed. Anxiety scattered through every thought. Corporal punishments were common. If he snapped back, he knew it would be treated as he was the problem. His file already had a big disclaimer about being defective. His skills were the only reason they kept him around. 

“I’m not throwing you to the wolves, Simon.”

Fucking felt like it. 

Ghost took a deep breath. “You’re right. Sorry, sir.” He shook himself. 

“Are you okay?”

His skin still buzzed. For a moment, he considered asking if Price could get undressed, but the thought of it made Ghost nauseous. 

“Fine, sir. I’m going to go to my room.”

“We’ll be having a meeting at 0800. And Ghost?”

“Yes.”

“Wear the muzzle.”

A physical weight pressed on his chest. It was in his file. He was lucky he got to get away with not wearing it as often as he did. 

The world was ending.

“Yes, sir.” 

He went to his room, locking the door and fully undressing. He took a moment to look himself over. The large raven wings. The dark lines that wrapped around his hips and ribs that had scars intertwined with them. His glasgow smile around painfully sharp teeth. 

He made the “ears”, they were just a group of feathers, a bit like a horned owl, perk up. He kept those bleached as well, so they blended in with the rest of his hair most of the time. 

His eyes looked normal right now, but he knew that could change.

Roba messed up while making him. Those features were supposed to be fixable. Disappearing when inconvenient. But they stained his skin constantly. 

Wrong. 

Inhuman. 

Defective. 

Thanks to his… making, the fact that it wasn’t done by the military, they were nervous. Paranoid that he’d go feral. Felt like it when they stared at him. 

Everyone else chose this. He didn’t. He had liked being human, despite everything. 

And that meant he was a problem. Had to be watched carefully. Everyone always on guard. 

Hopefully, Soap would snap under the pressure and he’d be back with Price. Back to normal.

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

Hi, do you still take x reader requests?? If you do, I was wanting a Phantom x reader/Y/N (she/they pronouns) and maybe Y/N got kidnapped by a rival being and he shows up rescue Y/N? Possessive Phantom is one of my favorite ideas, and he’s barely, just barely by a thread holding back from going full on eldritch being on the kidnappers + the rival. Maybe Phantom comforts Y/N afterwards too?

Call me Cos :D (for anon, I’ll be space anon if that isn’t taken)

Well, I do so love my body horror, so I'll admit that I kinda went further than that "just barely by a thread" part. . .

(This is based on a set of headcanons I posted a while ago; go here if you'd like to see them.)

Sorry this took so long, but it's finally finished! I hope you enjoy it!

(Trigger Warnings: violence, body horror, eyes, teeth, mentions of snakes, mentions of insects, implied kidnapping, implied illegal business, talk of death/dying, strong language. Please let me know if I missed anything.) 

___

“I’m really not sure what you’re hoping to gain from this,” you announced, resting your cheek against one hand as you looked out at the world through the bars of the cage. 

Your captor—an admittedly stunning woman with a halo of crystals orbiting around the golden points of a crown protruding from her silvery hair—hummed thoughtfully.

“Not too much, if I’m being honest,” she answered with a dismissive shrug.

You quirked a brow, straightening your back a little. It was difficult to look her in the eyes; they glowed with undeniable power. The most piercing, dangerous, otherworldly shade of blue you’d ever seen. 

Your brain was begging you to focus on something else. Anything else, really. The room outside your cage was extravagant, boasting marble floors and looming pillars and filigree carvings on the walls. Everything was inlaid with blue gemstones in some way. Even your cage, nestled in the corner, was polished and decorated to perfection.  

But you still made a valiant attempt to keep eye-contact. You couldn’t just let her think you were some shrinking violet. 

“Then why did you bring me here in the first place? Why did you bother to just wait in my mirror until I finally got home?”

The Multiverse Monarch took a few steps closer to further scrutinize you. 

“Why does anyone do anything?” She responded. “Why do you mortals insist on making sacrifices, traveling to places you’ve never seen before, crossing bridges that don’t even exist yet?”

“Because we’ll eventually get paid for it,” you replied. “Or, we all hope to, at least.” 

Monarch blinked, a small snicker forcing its way through her teeth. She quickly shook her head, engaging in the rolling-your-eyes-with-your-whole-body gesture. 

“Because it’s there,” she stated in the most matter-of-fact tone you’d ever heard. “Because it’s just something to do. Something to temporarily keep your little lives from continuing to be mundane as fuck.”

You hummed at the explanation. There was definitely some truth to it, but you thrived on sarcasm. You couldn’t help that; it was a survival mechanism. “I feel like doing any kind of business with Phantom already pretty far from ‘mundane as fuck.’ I almost ended up being one of his contractors when we first met, and now look where I stand with him.”  

Monarch tilted her head to the side, folding her arms across her chest. “That kind of thing happens with a lot of dealmakers and potential clients. Much more frequently than you’d think. Don’t feel special.”

“I never said I felt special,” you argued. And now it was your turn to smirk, since it was so obvious that you and Monarch were now thinking the same thing. 

Phantom was many, many things. And one of them was, so simply, shady as they came. However, he could also be honest when the mood suited him. 

When the two of you had first met, he’d seen you as just another soul with enough potential and enough need of supernatural assistance to be considered for his collection. You, on the other hand, had long-since honed your instincts to sense ulterior motives. And at that point in time, you’d been, for lack of a better word, tired. 

Before that point, you’d been stepped on and laughed at and criticized so. Many. Damn. Times. 

You’d gotten tired of that. 

You’d gotten tired of trying so hard and putting out so much and only getting a few breadcrumbs here and there to show for it. 

You’d gotten so tired that it was miracle you’d even bothered to read Phantom’s contract in its entirety. 

And even with the potential consequences literally written down right in front of you. . .you’d been tired enough to not care.

So what if your soul became the property of an eldritch abomination?

At least you’d get some time to finally enjoy a few things before that. 

You’re not sure what Phantom saw in your tiredness. Hell, you’d flat-out asked him before, and he hadn’t been able to give you a clear answer himself. But that was just it: he’d seen something that he wanted to keep. Not just for his collection, but. . .

Well, Phantom had been quiet for most of that particular meeting, mainly relying on his elevator pitch for small talk as you read through the requirements and expectations. When you took hold on his feather quill, he went silent. He’d stayed silent as you hesitated. You’d felt his eyes boring holes through your skull. And just as you were about to sign your name on the dotted line, Phantom had yanked the contract away, insisting that he needed to make a few updates to it. 

The rest, as they say, is history.

“Plus,” you added. “I’ve heard all about the spats the two of you have gotten into. And when you combine those with the business angle of things. . .I mean, I’m not sure what to call it, but it’s still not mundane at all. Isn’t that enough?”

“You’ve only heard about those spats from his perspective,” Monarch snarked. Insanity glinted in her eyes. A buzzing, humming, keening music suddenly stabbed its way into your ears, and you finally had to look away from her, ducking your head and kneading at your temples. 

More footsteps clicked closer, and a cold hand was suddenly grasping your chin, slowly forcing you to look back up. 

Her eyes. . .they looked even less human than before. Now they were compound, seeming to shudder in their sockets as that frightening blue light glowed brighter and brighter. 

A pair of long, sinuous antennae now protruded from her forehead, covered in a network of crystalline veins. They reached down to lightly tap against your scalp, making that unearthly music reverberate in your skull. 

“And enough is ภєשєг єภ๏ยﻮђ,” she concluded, allowing you to catch a glimpse of something shuffling about between the rows of her teeth. “ภєשєг ђคร ๒єєภ, ภєשєг ฬเɭɭ ๒є.”

“MONARCH!” A familiar voice suddenly shouted from somewhere outside of the throne room. . .or, it had to be outside the throne room, at least. But then, that voice shouldn’t have been echoing and bouncing around the corners with such violence. “I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME!”

Not if it was a human’s voice, that is. 

And that’s why you immediately recognized it. You’d been hearing it almost every day for a good couple years now, after all.

You’d been waiting to hear it today.

“I know you know,” Monarch called back, only slightly raising her own tone as a smirk played at her lips. She released her grip on your chin, strolling away from your cage to settle down onto her throne. “That’s what makes this kind of stuff so fun.”

What sounded like a Category 5 earthquake slammed against the towering side-by-side doors that waited across the room. The thunderous sound was followed by a cacophony of screeching, like razor-sharp claws being dragged across ornate wood and stone.

“Well, if we’re going with that logic,” Phantom seethed from wherever he was, “then you also know that if you don’t bring [Y/N] out here right now, I swear I’ll 𐍂𐍊Ƥ 𐍈𐍁𐨠 𐌴𐌰ζ𐌷 𐍈𐍆 𐌸𐍈𐍁𐍂 𐐎𐍊𐍀𐌾Ⲋ 𐍈𐍀𐌴-𐌱𐌸-𐍈𐍀𐌴!"

Phantom’s pitch seemed to warp like metal, now twisting and rattling in the air. It gave the impression of a hissing, growling, churning well; like he was speaking through multiple people—or multiple monsters, really—at once.

“And I’ll just grow replacements for them,” Monarch replied, examining her fingernails, looking extremely cool and collected someone who was facing promises of dismemberment. “If you’re gonna threaten me, then maybe aim for something that’ll be more difficult to recover.” 

Another shockwave pounded against the doors from the other side. The entire room shook; you could feel the floor vibrating through your shoes for a long moment. 

Phantom’s voice hummed, shifting from ferocious anger to vicious mockery in a heartbeat. “Like those clones of yours?”

You craned your neck to glance at Monarch through the cage’s bars. You had to bite down a chuckle at the way she stiffened; if there was one thing you and Phantom had bonded over, it was the art of schadenfreude. 

“My clones are scattered across the multiverse,” Monarch contended. “It would take you at least six-thousand-nine-hundred years for you to find all of them!”

She let out an icy snicker that made your spine want to crawl its way out of your back and go somewhere a little more quiet. “ץ๏ย’гє คɭгєค๔ץ ђคɭŦ-รєภเɭє; รђ๏ยɭ๔ภ’Շ ๒є Շ๏๏ ɭ๏ภﻮ ๒єŦ๏гє ץ๏ย’гє คɭɭ Շђє ฬคץ Շђєгє.” 

“Oh, now you’re in for it,” you murmured. Though the speculation was mainly to yourself, you had no doubts that your captor could hear you.

An animalistic roar echoed through the walls, and the doors shook in their frame yet again. This time, the boom was accentuated by the undeniable call of something shattering. 

“𐍊 ꡕ𐌰𐌸 𐌱𐌴 𐐎𐌴ࠋࠋ-𐍈ⱱ𐌴𐍂 𐌰 𐨠𐌷𐍈𐍁Ⲋ𐌰𐍀Ɗ, 𐌱𐍁𐨠 𐍊 𐌰ꡕ 𐍀𐍈𐨠 Ⲋ𐌴𐍀𐍊ࠋ𐌴!”

The latest tremor lingered, not just fading away like the last two strikes. You subconsciously held onto the bars in a white-knuckled grip.

Phantom knew you were here; he wouldn’t make Monarch’s entire palace collapse if it meant the risk of you getting crushed in the rubble. Despite your trust in him, your instincts were on still fire now, screaming that the floor was absolutely going to cave in beneath you at any second.

Phantom spoke up again, dripping with surreal danger. “What about all the souls you’ve gathered? What if I set my sights on those, Moth? They aren’t exactly easy to replace. We both now that better than anyone.”

Monarch stood on her throne, her movement too fluid and quick to be natural. The entire lower-half of her face seemed to have eroded away. Smooth, human-esquse flesh had been replaced by the mandibles you’d seen earlier. They shuddered and snapped, making an odd, almost musical chittering noise.

And right above them. . .her eyes. . .

Her eyes had grown disturbingly wide, rolling around in her head as each of the hexagonal units adorning either of them reflected everything around her. You could see yourself in the corner of them. She was still watching you as much as she was watching Phantom through the doors. 

Her antennae now almost resembled crooked swords, twitching so violently that it was a wonder how her crown stayed in place. 

The lights of the room flickered, growing dark and insidious. The temperature automatically dropped through several degrees; goosebumps prickled over every square-inch of your skin. Your senses were so shocked by the change that you almost didn’t notice the awful chorus of stretching and tearing that coiled through the room. 

By the time you finally looked back at Monarch, you choked on air. 

Her fair skin and silvery locks had just finished practically ripping themselves apart to make way for. . .not bones, perse. An exoskeleton: a shining, jagged, horrific carapace that looked like it was molded from liquefied diamonds. 

The woman was gone.

An enormous insectoid monster stood in her place. 

It was like nothing you’d ever seen before (which was saying something, since you’d seen quite a lot thanks to your relationship with Phantom). 

As though you were looking at the impossible result of a mythical threesome between a primordial praying mantis, spider, and butterfly.  

Far, far too many long, spindly, dagger-like legs and clutching, serrated claws to count. 

At the center of them all was a glowing abdomen that trembled with every breath Monarch took. It ended in a glittering stinger that would make even the world’s sharpest harpoon look like a toothpick. 

Her mandibles were now large enough to easily decapitate you with one bite. Each time they moved, an otherworldly chittering rhythm leaked out.

Four billowing wings as vast and blue as a trench in the ocean, covered in organized lines of piercing eye-spots.

No. . .those weren’t spots. 

Honest-to-fucking-goodness eyes.

And they were still keeping some focus on you. 

Monarch snarled. Against all odds, her voice remained soft. When it mixed with that chittering, however, the sound felt like needles. “ץ๏ย ๔๏ภ'Շ ђคשє Շђє ภєгשє.”

And with that, the doors finally buckled, flying off their hinges to embed themselves in the walls. 

A haze of heat and terrifying energy swept into the room, followed an instant later by another abomination. 

Despite the anxiety prying at your ribs, you still managed to smile. You even felt butterflies in your stomach.

Phantom was here. He’d come to take you back home.

At first, he seemed to be a sentient, slow-moving tornado of smoke. With your personal experience, you knew that he was simply wearing that fog sort of like a cloak. 

As more and more of his true form rippled into the throne room, as all the smoke sliced around him, you could easily see the shapes of bones that all fit together to form a colossal serpentine skeleton. 

A vast array of organs writhed further inside the seemingly endless ribcage, glowing similarly to the embers at the bottom of a firepit. 

That glow had absolutely nothing on Phantom’s eyes, however. 

Then again, you weren’t sure if you could really call them eyes. 

The sockets in his triangle-shaped head emitted spiraling plumes of fire. Beneath them, a maw filled to the brim with serrated fangs; the largest ones dripped with luminescent venom that sizzled as it hit the marble floors. A long, forked black tongue flicked in and out between all those teeth like a party favor. 

So, in short: the richest, purest form of nightmare fuel for anyone with ophidiophobia. . .well, almost. Two arms (only two at the moment. You knew more could be summoned and then retracted at a second’s notice) jutted out from his sides, each ending in a clutch of five talons.

And there was something peculiar pinched between two of those talons. 

“𐨠𐍂𐌸 ꡕ𐌴,” Phantom hissed as he raised his arm to show it off. 

It was spherical in shape, almost looking like one of those pretty glass marbles that always seemed to be in antique stores for whatever reason. 

But you knew better. 

The longer you started at it, the more it seemed to bounce—no, to pulse in the air. It gleamed with a soft, warm, colorful light. A living light. 

That was someone’s soul. 

You’d seen Phantom handling souls before, but those all had been his (technically) legal property, having been signed over to him by his clients. 

Judging by the way Monarch screamed as Phantom tossed it for his other talons to catch, this one had to be part of her collection. 

“𐍊𐨠'Ⲋ 𐍂𐌴𐌰ࠋࠋ𐌸 Ⲋ𐍊ꡕƤࠋ𐌴, ꡕ𐍈𐨠𐌷. . .” Phantom put a little more pressure on the soul in his grasp. It responded via turning a darker shade, almost partially deflating like a smoker’s lung. “𐌸𐍈𐍁 𐨠𐌰𐌺𐌴 Ⲋ𐍈ꡕ𐌴𐨠𐌷𐍊𐍀𐌾 𐍆𐍂𐍈ꡕ ꡕ𐌴, 𐌰𐍀Ɗ 𐍊 𐨠𐌰𐌺𐌴 Ⲋ𐍈ꡕ𐌴𐨠𐌷𐍊𐍀𐌾 𐍆𐍂𐍈ꡕ 𐌸𐍈𐍁.”

Monarch bristled. For a brief, horrible moment, you worried that she would reach over and clamp the cage to crush it around you like a soda can. 

You’d heard stories of her power. As far as you knew, she was one of few beings strong enough to have a stalemate with Phantom. 

The two of them stared at one another for what felt like hours. 

“คภ๔ ץ๏ย คɭฬคץร รคץ ՇђคՇ ๏Շђєг קє๏קɭє ςคภ'Շ Շคкє ן๏кєร,” Monarch accused, clicking her mandibles. She then let out an acidic sigh. “Ŧเภє. ﻮเשє ՇђคՇ ๏ภє ๒คςк Շ๏ ๓є, คภ๔ ץ๏ย ςคภ ђคשє ץ๏ยгร.”

“𐍀𐍈,” Phantom snapped. “𐌸𐍈𐍁 𐌾𐍊ⱱ𐌴 𐨠𐌷𐌴ꡕ 𐌱𐌰ζ𐌺 𐍆𐍊𐍂Ⲋ𐨠.”

Monarch hissed, leaning back, tensing up.

“How about you both move at the same time?” You called out, having finally reclaimed your voice. 

Both of the crimes against nature swiveled their heads in your direction. One part of you instinctually wanted to curl into a ball. The other part stood firm. 

No matter how terrifying Phantom was, no matter how much of a psychological hurdle it always was for you to see him in his true form like this. . .you still knew that he cared about you. He just wanted to keep you safe, to have you stay by his side. Once you were with him again, everything would be fine. 

He and Monarch side-eyed each other. 

One of Monarch’s legs reached over, clutching at the door to the cage. Simultaneously, Phantom pushed his talons, the soul still in his grasp, toward his rival. 

Then, less than a second later, they moved in tandem. 

As Phantom passed that unfortunate soul back to its owner, there was suddenly a gaping hole in the middle of the bars. You sprinted out and across the throne room, just barely managing to not trip over that long blue carpet. 

Phantom met you halfway, one clutch of talons hovering behind you, gently pushing you to stand closer to him. He lowered his skull, angling it to keep his fangs away as you leaned against him, stretching your arms in an awkward attempt to hug him.

“Շђєгє, รєє? ՇђคՇ ฬครภ'Շ ร๏ ђคг๔,” Monarch piped back up. You didn’t look at her, but you could guess at the snide grin slowly-but-surely spreading over her mandibles. Was this part of the adrenaline rush, or. . .whatever she’d been after? “คɭฬคץร ฬเՇђ Շђє ๔гค๓คՇเςร.” 

“𐌸𐍈𐍁'𐍂𐌴 𐍈𐍀𐌴 𐨠𐍈 𐍆𐍁ζ𐌺𐍊𐍀𐌾  𐨠𐌰ࠋ𐌺,” Phantom growled, holding you closer. You could see his horrific excuse for a heart thrashing and shifting through various colors unlike any you’d ever seen on Earth. “𐍊'ꡕ 𐌾𐍈𐍀𐍀𐌰 𐍂𐌴ꡕ𐌴ꡕ𐌱𐌴𐍂 𐨠𐌷𐍊Ⲋ 𐐎𐌷𐌴𐍀 𐍈𐍁𐍂 𐍀𐌴𑀌𐨠 ꡕ𐌴𐌴𐨠𐍊𐍀𐌾 ζ𐍈ꡕ𐌴Ⲋ 𐌰𐍂𐍈𐍁𐍀Ɗ. ʝ𐍁Ⲋ𐨠  𐨠𐌷𐍊𐍀𐌺 𐌰𐌱𐍈𐍁𐨠 𐨠𐌷𐌰𐨠."

[reincarnatedonthefirst]

You guys, I had a terrible time at dinner with my girl friend tonight.

I don’t know if she was feeling threatened or jealous of how much weight I lost (she made a comment about me being “so small”) but the vibe was off from the beginning.

I was in a really good mood, excited to see her, and very bubbly when I sat down for dinner. Maybe it annoyed her. I told her about all the things I’d been doing to improve me health. She looked kind of annoyed and asked, “Have you considered that you might be going through perimenopause!?” I really hate when people try to diagnose my symptoms because my health problems are very personal and stressful for me.

Then, we discussed the restaurant menu and I mentioned that I don’t eat carbs. Again, she gives me this disgusted and annoyed look as if I’m crazy: “You know you need carbs, right?” I told her I don’t eat them, starches neither. She goes, “Okay,” in a tone as if to imply that I’m an idiot and I don’t know what I’m doing.

I considered ending the dinner right there. As far as I was concerned, the night was over and ruined anyway. But I sat through the dinner, with a knot in my stomach, because I didn’t have the courage to walk away. I was so disappointed. I really wanted to enjoy myself with her. I liked her. But this was another friendship I would have to let go of before we even made it to a year together.

After she was kind of mean to me, I made the decision to never see her again.

I really do believe she was annoyed because I looked and sounded radiant. That’s not me being full of myself: women just do that to each other sometimes. My mom is a dick to me when I look nice. You’ve probably had other women be rude to you because they were jealous.

I can’t remember the exact line from the office, but Kelly once made this remark, “everyone in the office is always mean to hot girl!” 😂 (And by “hot girl”, Kelly was talking about herself). I laughed to line at this line as I drove home from that horrible dinner.

I’m really bummed because I wasted three and a half hours of my precious time with her. I could have and should have been at home, watching my favorite 70’s crime drama, enjoying my solitude.

It’s bad enough that I hate men and want to stay single. But it seems I’m doomed to really be alone forever because I can’t seem to find and keep long term friendships even with women. ����

I don’t understand. I didn’t do anything wrong to her. Why was she behaving that way? She made me feel as if I had done something wrong. I really do feel horrible. It’s as if I can’t do anything right in this world when people treat me badly. As a woman of color, I really can only depend on other woman of color for understanding in this world but I can’t even depend on them. This feels so bad.

Every time I have to let go of someone, it feels as if my world is shrinking. At this point, all I have is my mom and my sisters.

[disastrous-table]

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A/n: The “random” ahh drabble I came up with all on my own…definitely not someone else’s. (Shoo go away). Also yes there is a Nod to Deadplate bc this is basically inspired by it lol. Sue me.

Warnings: GN! Reader, G/t (Giant/Tiny), blood, injury, canabalism(?), Yandere-ish behaviour, obsessive behaviour, implied canabalism, implied romantic/platonic relationships with tiny and giants, trauma, not proof read, written at 4am, and more that might have been missed

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“Just a taste~”

How could things get any worse than it was…a question you found to be stupid to ask in the first place. You thought all was well in this wacky world you live in, managing to find a nice paying job that would go down the career path you wanted.

It was here that you met your boss, a very, very, very,tall man who looked to be around his late 20’s. He was kind enough to offer you a job when most places turned you down because of your height? (Sizeist much?) thinking you incapable of managing on your own as well as being more of a liability rather than any help.

Rather your boss saw you as any other employee, already having a few others at your size (a mere 4 1/4 inches). The kitchen being accommodated for their size such as mini elevators or ramps/steps to reach higher areas and if anyone needed some extra ingredients they would as a larger member of staff to go grab it for them and they would comply. It was…new and refreshing for a start, a nice and healthy workspace.

So why was it that you was caught up in this mess? Why was he doing this?

…Then it hit you. The many red flags that started to appear: the lengthy stares he would give you, showing more of an interest in you than your fellow co workers, the whispers amount co workers about a sudden change in behaviour…

It all started to make sense now! You were too blinded by this new job and a false hope of a happy life, you failed to see the alarming mannerisms of your boss within 6 Damm months! Thinking back, you only wish you can go back and reverse the damage, yell at your past self to get out while they can.

You wanted to sob, to scream but doing that would do no good other than aggravate your now ex-Boss. You suddenly hissed as phantom pain hit you in where your leg should have been, the wound still being recent—fresh, even!

That fucking psycho bit your leg off! You don’t wish to remember the scene…the sound of bone being crushed under blunt pressure. The only thing keeping you from dying due to blood loss is a mini version of a tourniquet which was just a zip tie. Being locked in a cage of sorts while he’s away put you on edge, obviously enough. You don’t know when he might pop up or if he could be testing to see if you would make some sort of stem or to get out or scream for help.

You wished that he would just give you a speedy death. You feel helpless to do anything.

…

A few hours passed by, maybe even more than that before you heard the sound of a door lock shifting…right, you was kidnapped and taken by some possible serial killer canabal! Each step your captor took, getting closer with each stride, awakened your fear again and you scrambled to get away from the front of this rodent looking cage into a corner to only shrink in on yourself more. You hated feeling this weak, you didn’t want this—no one should go through this, ever!

thud…

Thud…

THUD…

The steps only grew in volume. You swore that the ground shook so violently your head started to spin making you see stars. Your breathing picked up in an irregular pace as you started to hyperventilate.

“This was it.” You thought to yourself as tears made your vision blurry. “I’m going to really die aren’t I?…to some stranger who basically kidnapped me.” You could only let out a dry chuckle at the thought. You didn’t feel like strangers before all this, you would dare to consider yourself friends at some point but that was all. Oh, how laughable this all is.

Suddenly the door opened to a familiar face. He walked over to the light switch to the room and in an instant the room was suddenly bright causing a small hiss from you as your eyes felt as if they were burning from the brightness. Being in the dark for so long can do that to you. A smile grew on his face as his body straightened up from its previously slouched position as he looked at you.

His eyes felt as if they bore holes into your very being, never leaving your ever shrinking form as he approached the cage and bent down to be eye level. “No hello? No welcome home? My, I thought you would be more welcoming than this dear [Name].” He said though his tone made it seem like it was more of a playful remark than actual pouting or any feeling of offence. You only stayed silent trying to even your breathing to stay as calm as you could though images of his more…darker side showed up in your head and that scene, proved to make it difficult as you could only whimper at his words.

His smile faltered as he let out a small sigh before he stood up to his full height “No matter. Not like I expected much, especially the state you’re in. I was surprised that you’d don’t just pass out from shock after what I did.” He said as he pointed to your missing limb. Your only response was silence followed by shaking. His presence intimidated you and rightfully so! That bastard is just talking so calmly about all this!? Sure it pissed you off to know that he didn’t feel guilty about his actions but to just hear him sound as if this was normal?

You gripped your sleeve of your shirt tightly in anger as you grew a tad bit irked over all this. He seemingly took no notice of this or he didn’t care to make it known. “Have you ever wondered, [Name], what life would be like for people like you and me?” He started, which caught caught you off guard a little. What on earth could he be going on about? “Don’t get me wrong, I know there are couples out there that manage despite this size difference, but… A relationship like that could never truly be whole, could it?” He said before grabbing the cage making you wobble and a small yelp coming out form your vocal cords. Now his little monologue was making so sense at all, probably some more crazy talk.

While holding the cage his brought it to his chest and held it there as if he was trying to do a hug of sorts as he sat down on a bed. His bed. “I always thought it would be impossible to have that final piece, the missing ingredient of such a relationship. Then when I laid my eyes on you…I had begun to realise that I had a deep yearning, a desire to hold you close , to keep you at arms length.” He continued on as you only sat there confused where this could be leading. It was all unclear with his motives, that and the facts he’s acting as if he’s confessing to a childhood crush he’s been holding in for years. “It was all so sudden but not exactly unwelcome. I thought that it was simply a one-off thing and that these weird feeling would go away. Haha but you know that isn’t the case, hm?” You could hear a soft chuckle at his own words making you cringe internally. If he is going to confess his undying love to you, then you would rather choke on poison as you stepped on hot coals bare foot than hear what he has to say, wether it be to justify his actions or his own sick twisted way of showing “affection”.

“You see [Nmae], these feels spiraled out of control, I went from wanting to keeping you at arms length to wanting to be closer—to be one of the same. That was what I found out what was missing, specifically for us. To be whole is to be one after all. And I’ve only just completed the first step to this journey for us!” He purred out in a sickeningly sweet tone as he held the cage closer you thought he was going to crush it making you yelp again. As he said those last words though, you notice one of his hands travel to where his stomach was, making you cringe, and paying it softly.

“Having a part of you feels rewarding for this effort, [Name]. Just having a taste of what we could be? It just sends shocks to my very core. Don’t you feel the same?” The question felt rhetorical but still, you didn’t feel inclined to answer this deranged man.

“It saddens me when you stay silent [Name]…I thought this would work, that you would warm up to me…” saying those words to himself must have made him realise as he looked as if something struck him. As if that something was supposed to be obvious.

“Of course, of course how could I forget my own words!” He laughed out, jolting the cage as his hand that patted his belly lifted up to cover his eyes. “To become whole we have to become one.” Sending the danger of those words and tone you attempted to pushed yourself against the bars of the cage, painfully so as he lifted the cage to eye level. His eyes filled with a crazed look, an obsession taking over it seemed as he pondered over the thought and was thinking deeply.

You weren’t sure if you would make it out alive, whatever it was…

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Decided to call quits because 1. I’m getting eepy and 2. I was starting to lose inspiration as well as motivation. Didn’t go as planned since I wanted to open with the whole biting leg off scene but idk how to open up to lead up to that so meh. It is what it is. Hope you enjoyed since this is my first piece of writing since like early 2022 :p