#it nailed so many aesthetics I love

[gravy-rain]

Did you finish side order? What did you think of it?

Oh my gosh I finished side order and I freaking LOVED it!! I played basically nonstop for two days and won with all the weapons and even a run with no marina hacks haha. I was worried that it would be too short but holy cow it is SO replayable, the final boss made me LAUGH my ass off, and pearl x marina was just so amazing in it. I LOVE rougelikes so it just… hit ALL the right spots. I can’t wait to replay it just because and max out all the chips in that chip dex to get those last bits of dialogue heheee

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Ghouls night out

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[eastbluecrewed]

ARE YOU PIRATES OF PIRATES OF PIRATES OF PIRATES?

i love this movie so much everyone should go watch baron omatsuri and the secret island right now its on the internet archive i promise its worth the hour and a half its so beautiful and good and unsettling

reference frame below the cut !!

[wreckedhoney]

screencaps from the second playthrough! a few things i missed or forgot to share from the first one, with some more minor additions under the cut. my personal fav here is THE SCREAM poster with our new host's name just taped over the old one's lmao i love that little detail, sorry kurt and thankyou clive we love you.

obligatory oogling at peggy and her lovely lovely silhouette, the model looks so good. i also appreciate, again, reggie's office decor?? it looks like the drawing of a rocket ship you can find maybe twice around the station might be from his son lol. or. maybe it's his.

and the cassette! another great find from clive. maybe he closed in on who could've been offing all the people he found out about. what a sweet touch from the game, too.

some extra liquid that i thought had some interesting little blurbs. the cleaner is so…so fuckin… fuckin gallows creek man… who owns bimbam bc fellas we got another request for the next whistling men

[tamarin-opal-eyed]

OOP Tam's a bun now! Long story, will put in the tags, but aside from an adjustment in name/backstory/colors, she's still the same grump.

[kashverse]

it is a rite of passage for every child to have a pet, and when it is finally babykuna’s turn, sukuna—being the extra man that he is—does not just take her to a normal pet shop. no, no, no. he takes her to an exotic pet shop. because why settle for a goldfish when she could have a tarantula named missy? or maybe a snake called george? wouldn’t a scorpion be so much cooler? apparently not. because out of all the fascinating, unique, and terrifying creatures in the shop, babykuna walks past them all—ignores the lizards, dismisses the sugar gliders, doesn’t even look at the parrot that screeches a greeting at her—

and stops dead in front of a massive maine coon that is currently squished into a cage far too small for its body. the cat—fluffy, fat, and looking seconds away from sighing like a disappointed victorian orphan—locks eyes with babykuna. babykuna gasps, pressing her tiny hands against the cage. "mama! papa! it’s him!"

sukuna furrows his brows. "what?"

"him! my pet! my baby! my everything!"

you squint at the cat. it looks back at you like it’s seen some shit. "baby, are you sure?" you ask gently, glancing at the other animals. "there are so many cool options, what about—"

"NO!"

babykuna throws herself onto the ground, wailing like she’s in a period drama. sukuna jumps in alarm. "oi, oi, what the fuck, don’t start—"

before he can finish, the cat in the cage suddenly lets out a long, tragic, soul-crushing howl—as if mourning a life it never got to live.

the entire store falls silent.

"…what the fuck was that," sukuna hisses, visibly unsettled. babykuna gasps again, sitting up. "mr pickles! papa said a bad word!"

"mr…pickles?" sukuna repeats, looking at the cat like it personally offended him. "why is its name mr pickles?"

"because he is my son," babykuna says matter-of-factly, wiping away her fake tears. “and my heart knows his true name.” you press your lips together to keep from laughing. "mr pickles is a cute name, love."

"no, it’s not," sukuna grumbles, rubbing his temples. "baby, listen, papa will get you anything else, okay? you want a wolfdog? a komodo dragon? a fucking capybara?"

babykuna sobs.

"I WANT MR PICKLESSSSSSSSSS—!"

mr pickles, from inside his cage, lets out a sorrowful “AAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOHHH—”

and that is how the fourth member of the family—a fat, depressed maine coon named mr pickles—came to be. turns out, despite his tragic victorian orphan appearance, mr pickles is actually a sweetheart. not only does he fulfill his feline duties—lounging around, occasionally chasing invisible ghosts, and knocking over things just for fun—he also doubles as babykuna’s personal weighted blanket. and let’s be honest, nothing has ever knocked babykuna out quite like mr pickles’ fluffy, oversized body. 

she sleeps like a brick, snoring so loudly that you once thought a grown man had somehow broken into the house and passed out in her room. but there she was—wrapped around mr pickles like a koala, drool dripping onto his fur, dead to the world. and mr pickles? he doesn’t complain even once. in fact, he doesn’t even move. just lies there, accepting his fate, staring blankly into the void while babykuna uses him as her personal mattress. what a versatile king. in fact, mr pickles has so many roles in this household.

a cat? yes.

a weighted blanket? absolutely.

a luxury aesthetic background for your new nail set photos? oh, you better believe it.

you take a picture of your freshly done nails—perfectly manicured, sitting against the soft, plush fur of mr pickles, the perfect neutral background. you send it to sukuna. he normally loves seeing your nails, but this time—his eyebrow twitches as he recognizes the background.

sukuna: are you using that fucking cat as a backdrop again you: mr pickles is an aesthetic marvel. sukuna: i will throw that thing in the washing machine

you report him to babykuna, who screeches in betrayal and slaps his arm like she’s defending her child from a monster. but let’s be real—the best thing about mr pickles? his impeccable manners.

the moment he finishes eating from his bowl, he delicately pushes it towards the sink—like some kind of distinguished gentleman disposing of his fine china. it is so polite that you almost want to give him a little bowtie. sukuna watches this with a blank face. “i feel like i should be impressed, but i also feel like i’m being manipulated.” and maybe, just maybe, he would grow to respect this cat.

except.

mr pickles is a hater. specifically, a sukuna hater. because whenever it comes to sukuna’s belongings? suddenly, mr pickles is the menace of the household.

one night, sukuna walks into the laundry room to grab his freshly washed, neatly pressed shirts, only to find mr pickles sprawled on top of them, looking at him with such deep, sorrowful eyes that sukuna physically cannot yell at him. he stares. mr pickles blinks slowly.

"…get the fuck off."

mr pickles closes his eyes and pretends to sleep.

"GET OFF."

the very next day, sukuna screams when he finds all of his socks shredded into oblivion—like someone went berserk with a pair of scissors. babykuna gasps, pointing at mr pickles. “papa! it was mr pickles!”

sukuna whirls to glare at the culprit. "you little shit—!"

mr pickles blinks at him, looking once again like a victorian boy with consumption.

sukuna’s rage stutters.

"…you think you’re funny, huh?"

mr pickles does not reply.

(but he does later eat an entire stack of sukuna’s important business papers™ and then vomits them out on the living room carpet.)

[etheries1015]

Fem!MC X platonic Twst - missing the "girly" things.

General warnings: Fem reader, very Self-indulgent. If you don't relate, please keep scrolling along <3 not very proofread. No pronouns are used, but the concept of "girliness" and "girlhood" is very strong.

The boys have noticed their prefect act a bit different lately...a cloud of loneliness hovered over your head. As the only girl of Night Raven College, it was incredibly easy to feel left out and miss the things you were once interested in back in your world. You held a strong façade of prestige and uncaringness, but what happens when that mask begins to crack? How will the boys of NRC put your woes at rest? ...with a wonderful slumber party, of course!

First coming to Twisted Wonderland, not many could tell you were well-versed (Or at the very least, incredibly interested) in clothing, face Care, and jewelry. Although your personality screamed more or less "Gremlin" at times, and were a "well-known and respected honor student" all the same- you had a rather "girly" side to yourself.

However, you had limited options on having a non-existent budget, but a few of the students took notice of the longing in your eyes whenever you passed by something you desired to have back in your life. The cute earrings, the pretty dresses and skirts, the headbands...a mix of classy and modern, things of that nature.

The first time you were able to get your hands on a half way decent outfit that suited your tastes and you wore it out, others stared in shock. You were still the cheery and "weird" gremlin prefect that had crude humor and silly dance moves, yet something about seeing you in such...frills and 'flamboyance' was not what they were expecting. It suited you, though.

You soon found yourself being handed such outfits. Vil had taken it upon himself to gift you expensive brand outfits that he saw your eye when walking around town, Malleus gifting you a few outfits from Briar Valley that he felt would suit your tastes, Kalim gifting you the cutest earrings he had ever seen (little fruit charms, bows, all sorts of colors and unique charms). Even Riddle introduced you to tea cups that fit your aesthetic to decorate your kitchen with!

Though, the more they saw this side of you, an influx of confessions also came in toe. You were revered as the only female in school (who also managed to stay at the top of the score board, despite your magicless disposition). This came with the struggle of being pursued, more so after they could see just how cute you could dress yourself up.

Despite all these new changes, you felt a tinge of... sadness. You were happy that they were all willing to accept you with open arms and indulge in your desires such as gifting you the cutest of plushies, clothes, jewelry, decor... that didn't stop you from missing fun slumber parties, girl talk with friends, giggling about your love lives, sharing clothes and doing each others makeup and painting nails. You confided all of this to the number one group you could have possibly spoke to about these issues of yours.

the pop music club.

A knock came upon the door at odd hours of the night, upon opening it in your nightgown, you revealed quite a sight. Cater, Kalim, and Lilia along with a few other choice students were all in gorgeous nightgowns, their hair done up, holding blankets and pillows with hands full of bags of what you could tell were snacks, makeup, nail polish, and other slumber party commodities. With a bright smile on your face and a giddy giggle, you let them in gushing about their cute appearances. You all lay out the blankets and pillows in front of the TV in the lounge (kindly gifted to you by Idia) and pulled out the snacks and lay them out for everyone to grab at in their leisure.

"We aren't girls," Lilia pointed out, "But at the very least we can enjoy the things you mentioned before! Oh how I love a good love story, shall we share our love lives?"

"We can do that while we put on these face masks! Look, this one is a panda!" Kalim exclaimed, holding up a large bag of face masks and other types of...random things he thought would suit the party. (He pulled out one of those toe dividers for nail polish, he had no clue what it was but Jamil told him he would need it for later.)

"Oh, I brought you this super cute and frilly nightgown (y/n), Trey said one of his sisters didn't wear it anymore and he thought it would look good on you. Go! Try it on, Then we can take a BUNCH of magicam photos. Don't we look like pretty dolls?!" Cater gushed, handing you the night gown. You took it with grace and skipped away to your room, giddy and unable to hold back your excitement.

It wasn't long for more guests to arrive in frilly pajamas and cutesy hair accessories. A string of familiar faces entered, and you soon found yourself braiding the hair of Leona, Vil, Idia, Malleus, Silver...You were shocked to see even Epel made an appearance simply to make you happy.

"I learned how to braid a little bit," Silver smiled gently at you, "And a few other hairstyles. I would be happy to try them on you," He said. You looked at Silvers' perfectly French braided hair and makeup that made him look nothing less than an angel, you nodding in immediate trust. You soon had hair that was done so elegantly, adorned with flowers and gems.

"Let's be clear, I ain't a girl!...but.." Epel blushed, "I-if it'll make you happy...i'll let ya braid my hair. Just this once!"

Floyd and Jade even came along with their faces caked with makeup and the most flamboyant nightgowns you have ever seen, laughing away at their silliness.

"Look Floyd," Jade pointed at your makeup which was lightly placed on by his hand, "I told you these colors perfectly suits (y/n)'s skin." Floyd boo'd and insisted to take off the colors Jade had chosen, holding out the most...vibrant and interesting color palate to exist. You only laughed and backed away, shaking your head and begging floyd to leave your precious face alone.

They truly indulged in everything you had missed out on, even if they weren't your "girlfriends," they were so adamantly ready to try, simply to see you smile once more.

It was a night of snacks, makeup, nail painting, chick flicks, karaoke, gossiping, and frilly fun. You truly underestimated just how much the boys took a liking to you and wished to ease your worries and make you feel a little more at home, and you couldn't have asked for better friends than them.

[sovksluv]

Here me out, luke being like greedily obsessed with the reader who's like all cute and more soft aesthetic, he just can't help himself but to corrupt her sweetness and fuck her stupid :(

dove

𖤐 . pairing - Luke Castellan x bimbo!fem!reader

𖤐 . summary - Luke finally got to show his pretty dove just how much he loves her

𖤐 . content includes - smut MDNI!

𖤐 . word count - 993

𖤐 . taglist - @perseus-jackass @niktwazny303 @st4rzl7

𖤐 . a/n- first time writing tumblr smut pls be nice 😓 (and be honest !! tell me if it’s bad or not)

from the moment he saw you, Luke knew he had to have you. with your short, pretty little skirts, plump, glossed lips, and pretty bows in your hair. 

you were just so perfect and soso innocent that he absolutely needed to have every part of you. he would watch you from afar, inching to touch you – to feel you.

you’d be laughing, sitting at the wooden table with your siblings, pure and unaware, lashes batting and plush thighs sitting so pretty on the bench. 

you poor, sweet thing. Luke wondered if you even noticed all the prying eyes on you – his prying eyes.

he wished he could be as close to you as they were, smelling your fruity perfume, feeling your perfect body pressed right up to his. 

he wanted to ruin you. he wanted to have your mascara running down your sweaty face, your eyes puffy from crying, the pounding of his fat cock just being too much for you.

a pathetic little cry left your lips, your arm desperately searching behind your back for anything to grab onto. 

Luke chuckled from behind you, grabbing your frenzied arm and reaching for your other one as well. 

he held both your arms behind your back, pulling your body up slightly, using the new advantage to shove his leaky cock deeper into your sopping cunt.

his dream had come true. you were bent over on his bed, eyes and pussy soaked, hands held tightly behind your back as he mercilessly pounded into you like there was no tomorrow. 

your whine drew his attention back to you, a chuckle leaving his raw and bitten lips. “mhm, dove – fuck. y’feel me?” he groans, eyes rolling back from the feeling of your sloppy pussy. 

you yelped after a particularly hard thrust to a certain spot, walls tightening around his stuttering cock. “Lu-uke-” you stuttered, drooling and breathless.

“such a pretty little pussy, dove- mine.” he groaned, your tight cunt making his unrelentless motions falter. “all for me right? s’all f’me?” 

you whimpered and cried, frantically nodding your head at his words. “y-yours, Luke.”

“mhm, mine.” he muttered, grinning and speeding up his movements, pride surging through his body at the visibly loud change in your sounds at his actions.

you felt one of his hands leave your arms, it disappeared from your body before it made harsh contact with the soft plush of your ass. it stung and left your skin red, a loud scream leaving your chapped lips when he did it again.

“a little freak aren’t you, dove? n’ i thought you were all innocent.”

Luke’s hand moved away again, and you were excited, craving to feel the sting of the slap once again.

but his hand didn’t come back down on your skin – instead, it grabbed at your hair, pulling your head up and your back flush against his searing chest.

you cried and moaned at the sudden angle change, suddenly feeling much more full.

your right arm moved up behind Luke, threading through his matted curls, pretty pink manicured nails sharp and scratching and pulling at his hair.

his breath got caught in his throat, his own hand trailing down your plush body, between your thighs, fingers finding your puffy, disregarded clit.

you leaned your head back onto his shoulder, almost silent noises falling from your lips at each deep thrust of his hips. 

Luke turned his head towards you, trailing sloppy kisses down your neck and sucking large, noticeable bruises onto your skin. 

your body was on fire – being stimulated from so many different feelings. his fat cock, the sloppy circles he left on your clit, his wet and cool lips on your warm skin. 

“mhm – my pretty dove,” he whispered in your ear, voice shaking with the ferocity of his own thrusts, sending goosebumps down your body. “y’were made for me.”

he moaned in your ear, practically whimpering. your pussy gripping him like a vice – a feeling he’d dreamt of for months.

“Luke i- c-an’t.” you whimpered, voice high and whiney and fucking pathetic.

“yes you can, dove, f’me, right?” his eyes fluttered closed, hands and hips working simultaneously to please you and your pretty body.

his cock pistoned into you, on the verge of bullying your cervix. “fo-or y-ou, Lukey.”

he relished in the feeling of your tight, warm cunt, hips stuttering. he was close, desperate to feel you finish before him.

“all mine, dove. mine mine mine.” 

you tried to wonder if he was saying it for you or for him, but you were too braindead to come up with a conclusion.

together, the pounding of his hips and the circling of his fingers practically threw you over the edge. 

you screamed, eyes screwing shut and mouth falling open, white hot pleasure flushing throughout your veins. 

“fuck, fuck fuuuuck-” he groaned, hips pistoning as he filled you up, warm heat flooded your pussy, his pace never faultering as he made sure you got every drip of pleasure you deserved.

Luke turned your head towards his, capturing your lips with his own, thrusts and fingers slowing. 

you whimpered into his kiss, mind hazy and pussy fluttering. you felt his lips turn upwards, the kiss deepening. 

his hips finally slowed to a stop as he let your spent body lay back down on his bed. he carefully pulled out of you, falling beside you, searching for his breath. 

you whimpered beside him, heaving and eyes fluttering closed. you were half on your side, back facing him.

Luke’s arm slithered towards you, wrapping around your waist and pulling your used body against his. 

he held you close, face shoved in your neck, mouth close to your ear as he whispered, “pretty, dove. all mine.” he kissed behind your ear, nipping at the skin there. you whimpered.

“you were mine from the start, weren’t you, dove?” his hand slowly trailed around your body, up your thigh and up your chest.

“mine, mine, mine.”

© sovksluv 2024, please do not repost or translate my work!

[prince-liest]

More thoughts on Alastor and why I don't think he's actually outdated:

I totally understand why many thoughts are going in the direction of him disliking Vox and TV as a whole because it is the technology that more or less replaced radio in the public eye, but I also think that we (so far, as of episode 4) have never really been given any evidence that he dislikes TV on principle rather than because he dislikes Vox and Vox is TV. Like, yes, he maintains a very dated aesthetic and does things like call TV "picture shows."

But also.

He throws around phrases like, "And now he's pissy, that's the tea!" and speaks with a permanent transatlantic accent (commonly used for TV and radio during his era but not actually naturally-occuring) at literally all times. This guy is not clueless - he's putting on airs. He knows modern lingo and he uses it comfortably and naturally.

There's a fanfic that, to save my life, I cannot remember the name of, where Angel Dust asks Alastor something to the tune of, "So what I'm getting out of this conversation is that you know it's called a cell phone and you just talk like you've never seen one on purpose?" and Alastor responds with, "Naturally!" that I think hit the nail on the head.

Especially when Alastor's anachronisms are so pointed. He calls Vox's TV show a "video podcast," which, 1) a podcast is a pretty modern term for him to know, originating at some point in the early 2000s and 2) deliberately reframes Vox's entire thing in terms of an audio format. It's not television. It's a podcast (a form of audio media that originated in the desire to download online radio broadcasts) with some video tacked on, he guesses.

Anyway, the tl;dr is that while I'm sure Alastor prefers his own era, I don't think Alastor is actually outdated, I think he's being fucking annoying on purpose.

Look at him. Look at his smug knifecat face. Bastardous. I love him.

ETA: The fanfic I mentioned is Anguish of the Marrow!

[laylaysdelusions]

When the sun goes down and the moon comes up

Wbb girls x goth!reader headcannons

An: it’s spooky season yall and I heard from a lil birdie or two that we need more diversity in the fanfic community and I agree so here it is<3

Warnings: a TINY bit of nsfw

Kk Arnold

She had a crush on you for a while. She thought you were so interesting and cool but she was nervous about how you would react to a sassy stud having a crush on her but you fell in love with her regardless.

A lot of people make comments about how you two don’t match up at all but you both ignore them because you are happy as opposites.

“She’s still my baby, I don’t mind, it makes her cooler”

You think she’s also the coolest person on planet earth, you like going to the Nike store and buying her new clothes and shoes, anything to see her smile. Even if that’s not your personal vibe.

Paige Bueckers

You were the first girl Paige was nervous to flirt with. Not because you were scary but because you were different than the hyper f girls who only wanted to get in her pants. You changed what she considered her type completely.

She loves watching you pick out your outfits and do your gothic makeup. She pays for your nail sets every time. You don’t even have to ask.

The first time she seen you without your bold aesthetic she fell even harder than before. You are adorable with and without.

She will defend you around anyone who says rude things about how you dress, you on the one hand let them and ignore it, Paige hates that.

Azzi Fudd

You have had many sassy arguments over the aux. she loves rnb while you like Pierce the Veil. After a while she started to give in. You just look so pretty she can’t say no.

She makes you show her your Pinterest boards so when she wants to surprise you she knows what you’ve been wanting.

she loves when your lipstick swears on her so she purposely does it. It always makes you huff and pout because you have to reapply it.

She loves when your eye liner runs when she’s making you cum. It’s one of her favorites

Once you wanted to do her makeup like yours and who is she to resist ofc she said yes!!

“Hold still we have to do your eye liner and lipstick perfectly”

I’ll try to do a part 2 of this gets enough attention <3

[throughparisallthroughrome]

"Got the Blues Back in Boston"

Chapter 1

Pairing: Modern!Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Description: Leaving behind an incompatible college and profound heartbreak on the Virginia Coast, you find yourself home again in Brookline, Massachusetts. A new opportunity presents itself to you at MIT, joining your brother ben and childhood friends/neighbors, Anakin and Ahsoka. Despite the familiarity, you discover just how much of a difference 2 years away can really make between the people you once considered family.

Warnings:f!reader, angst, jealousy, pining, smut, masturbation, mentions/descriptions of domestic abuse, cursing, drinking/drug usage, academic obsession, general obsession, hardcore partying, frats, general college bullshit

DISCLAIMER!!! READ BEFORE PROCEEDING: I’ve never been in an abusive relationship- I’ve only witnessed them. I’m an aspiring psychology major and have done a lot of research on the topic of domestic abuse/violence. This series deals with this topic HEAVILY, so be warned. 

Word Count: 6.3k A/N: First chapter is up! I'm sorry it took so long, I was really hoping to nail a certain feel and aesthetic with this series, and I really hope that translates. I'm probably gonna post the playlist I listen to while writing this because it does have a lot of influence on the story and everything. Please let me know if you wish to be tagged! Requests and ask box is open, and any/all criticism is welcome! Thank you for reading and supporting me <3

masterlist.

The drive to Brookline was always a hassle. Whether it was crossing the scary bridge along the coast of Virginia or through New York City—knowing that you’d still never been—it always ached. Maybe it was because you hadn’t been home in two years—and you missed Boston. 

Piled high in the back of your black Ford Focus was the last two years of your life that you could fit. You left behind everything else. 

The forest that encompassed you on I-95 offered a clearer perspective on your situation. As devastating as it had been, your new beginning after high school was not quite what you expected it to be. Hampton was a lovely place; the beaches were excellent, the people friendly, and there was always something to do. Somewhere to go. You made decent money working as a cocktail waitress in a club near your apartment, which is how you met Nick.

Tall, with a handsome face and a charm that was impossible to resist, Nick was the kind of man you couldn't help but be drawn to. He had a gorgeous smile and a body sculpted from the gods. The night you met him, he smooth-talked his way into your bed, introducing himself as Nicholas, saying how he never met someone as beautiful as you. The other waitresses just didn’t compare. And the rest was history. Were you usually the type to sleep with someone on the first date (if you could call it that)? Definitely not. But something about him was so captivating. 

But as the trees passed you by and your grip on your steering wheel tightened, you felt a tear fall onto your shaking hands. What happened to the Nick you loved? What went wrong? Who did you both turn into? Besides, the whole thing going south was your fault- you both knew that. You wanted too much; you let those men flirt, and you were never there for him. You never did what he asked. And you’d never amount to anything. At least, that’s what Nick always told you- and part of you was inclined to believe it. 

Your heart ached at the loss. The 11-hour drive was increasingly painful by the second, only two hours in and not even through the first city. The morning sun beamed in your eye as your car trudged through the wetlands, bathed in its golden hue.1 In the distance, you could make out the skyline of DC, the first city you needed to travel through.

It was nice in DC. You had attended a few times in the past. On one of the many family vacations you took throughout the years, you, your parents, and the Skywalkers had all made a trip together to that specific destination. You intentionally took the longer way home to ensure you remember it all. Besides, the Delaware Peninsula was far from interesting. And you needed the time to think- and probably mentally prepare yourself for what you’d arrive at.

The most exciting part of the trip was Baltimore, Philly, and NYC back to back. Despite sitting in mind-numbing traffic a lot of times, there was always something to look at. And people-watching was always your favorite. You felt your heart hurt, wishing for the opportunities that these cities could bring. As New York City and Hartford disappeared in the rearview mirror, the approaching Boston skyline sent a shiver down your spine, your breath catching in your throat. And there was the traffic.

You shakily reached for a cigarette out of your purse as your car came to a stop, breaking your own promise that you wouldn’t smoke in the car you bought. A wide smile spread across your face as you lit the cigarette, your body relaxing as the sweet scent filled the air. Naturally, your mind went straight to Anakin. Whenever you tasted cigarettes, it was impossible not to think of him and the bittersweet moments you shared. After all, he started your bad habit. Once again, your hands shook. Did he ever think about you while you were gone? You were close, but he was also an incredible pain in your ass. And what if he and Padme suddenly got back together? Ahsoka would have told you, right? Maybe. 

She would have told you. 

The familiar streets of Brookline outstretched before you, energetic and alive, instantly flooding your mind with cheerful memories that brought a grin to your face. Your smile widened across your face as you glanced at the familiar sports bar on the corner, reminiscing about the laughter and friendships you developed during your time as a hostess in high school. You turned the corner at the next light, a quiet laugh escaping your lips as the vibrant lights of the movie theater danced before your eyes, eliciting the sweet nostalgia of your god-awful first kiss. You weren’t expecting little Tommy to stick his tongue down your throat in 7th grade. As you approached Emerson Garden, a bittersweet ache tugged at your heart, memories of laughter and familiarity flooding your mind—the memories it held. 

The streetlights flickered as you turned down the most familiar road of all. You bit your lip in anticipation and ignored the urge to light another cigarette right then and there- your mom didn’t need to know about your filthy habit (although she smoked, too). The soft melodies of Radiohead and the laughter echoed from the back porch as you parked in the driveway. Gazing at the house with a smile, you felt a hint of excitement about reclaiming your old room. It had been far too long. 

The porch light turned on, and out ran Ahsoka, not even giving you a chance to turn your car off.

“You motherfucker!” She yelled, opening the car door and throwing her arms around you as you laughed, “It’s been so fucking long!” 

You looked back at her, pulling the beanie off her head and giggling, “Well, don’t tell the others, but I only came back for you.”

“Shut up,” she stands up, pulling you up with her, “Get your ass inside.” You laugh and salute her, following her through the familiar corridors of your house and into the kitchen. 

“Shut the FUCK up. She’s real!” Your mom squealed and quickly set her wine down, embracing you as if you’d be gone in an instant. “Never leave me like that again.” She pulls away and laughs, her tone laced with a hint of seriousness. 

“Never.” You promised, smiling wide before your dad caught your attention, tossing you a beer and shooting a wink in your direction. Although he wasn't typically sentimental, you could tell he missed you. 

“Where are the boys?” you asked, opening the can and drinking the bitter liquid. “Jesus Christ, Miller Lite never gets better, does it?” You squinted your eyes in disgust, giggling at your own reaction. 

“Nope, thought I taught you better than that.” He wraps an arm around your shoulders, kissing the top of your head. “They’re outside with Cliegg and Shmi.”

“Okay, sweet, I’ll go say hello.” You motion towards the back door, catching a glimpse of Ben from the back porch. 

“Hey,” He grabs your arm before you can turn to leave. “We missed you. I hope you’re okay. Ahsoka didn’t give us any details, but she said things really went to shit in Hampton. I just want to make sure you know you always have a home here, and we will do what we can to make it better, okay?” 

You nodded and smiled before practically running out the back door, forgetting exactly what you were throwing yourself into. 

“You fucker, you cheated!” Anakin yells, throwing down his cards as Ben takes a swig of his beer and laughs. 

“I’m afraid you just have an awful poker face, Anakin.” He sets his cards down and stands up, turning to face you with a smile. “There she is. About time you graced us with your presence.” 

You give a shrug before embracing Ben tightly, fighting back tears welling up in your eyes. You and Ben were close, and you knew that if he found out what happened, it would devastate him. He and Anakin were always there to keep you safe, but you had a distinct sibling connection. He knew you too well, always able to read your thoughts with uncanny accuracy. 

“You okay?” He pulled away and whispered, searching your sad eyes.

“Yeah, just tired. Long ass drive. Took the long way this time.” You sniffled, and he nodded in response, letting go and pulling a chair out between Anakin and what you assumed was Ahsoka’s chair. With a quiet thank you on your lips, you raised your beer to your mouth and took a long, satisfying gulp, feeling a gentle buzz settle in. 

“So, you’re back.” Anakin avoids eye contact, shuffling the cards before him as Ahsoka stifles a laugh. “Took you long enough.”

“Anakin!” Shmi scolds, noticing how his lips turn into a smirk, “You know he missed you, Y/N. He’s just a sore loser. Ben’s kicked his ass at poker three times now.” 

“Ah,” You nod, a grin spreading across your face, “He just doesn’t want to admit he sucks at poker- OW!” You feel a sudden impact as Anakin's foot forcefully meets the top of yours, causing you to shoot a glare in his direction. His eyes remain fixed on the cards, completely disregarding your look, while he bites down on his lip, trying to contain his amusement. "Sore loser indeed," you mutter under her breath, shaking her head in annoyance as you pick up the cards he handed you.

Of course, the hand was awful. You weren’t sure how you’d make it out of this alive. Family poker nights were a tradition started by your parents and the Skywalkers, which you were all quickly introduced to by your 10th birthday. Once you hit double digits, you were old enough to gamble. Ahsoka was always the best, but you had a habit of making a comeback when people least expected it. And you had a great poker face- Anakin did not. Anakin had a habit of wearing every thought and emotion on his sleeve his entire life. Shmi always swore it would be his downfall- as a child, you thought she was just talking about his downfall at poker. But once you got older, you quickly understood. 

When you discovered his breakup with Padme, you felt like maybe part of you understood. But you never really knew why they broke up. Everyone just told you, “They were better off as friends,” and that was all you knew. Did you want the real story? Absolutely. But part of you was worried about what he’d tell you. You knew better than to get involved in Anakin’s love life, and deep down, a part of you didn’t want to taint the image you had always had of him in your mind.

“Heard you finally got into MIT,” Anakin breaks the silence and your train of thought as he pushes a couple of chips into the center of the table, “Congratulations, although I’ve never heard of anyone going to MIT for an Archeology degree.” You roll your eyes and sigh. 

“There it is.” You giggle as everyone groans, setting their cards down as they fold. 

“There’s what?” He shoots you a disapproving glare.

“You’ve never given me a compliment without an insult. Was waiting for it.” You shrug, laying down your cards, “Full house.” Anakin’s jaw drops as you pull all the chips in your direction. 

“Shit,” He mutters, setting his cards down and laying his head on the table as he groans loudly in annoyance, “Fucking done with this game.”

“And so are we,” Shmi motions Cliegg to stand, “Love you guys. Have fun. Good to have you back, sweetheart.” Shmi kisses your head as Cliegg ruffles your hair before leaving to say goodnight to your parents. 

“Mhm,” you hum, finishing the last of your beer, “and plenty of people go to MIT for archeology. It’s a great school. Besides, it’s about time I joined you all there. And it’s only a 15-minute drive. Speaking of- how’s biochemical engineering going, little one?” With a gentle tap on Ahsoka's knee, she reluctantly tears her gaze away from her phone and responds with an eye roll.

“Fucking awful! I love what I’m studying; the school is incredible- just so much work. I’m so tired. I have time for nothing!” She groans and sinks further into her chair while you, Anakin, and Ben burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“Coming from a recent MIT graduate- it doesn’t get any better. Just wait until you get further into your major- Biochemical Engineering is far from easy.” Ben offers her a smile while you and Anakin continue giggling. 

“And on that note,” You stand up, shaking your empty can, “I’m getting something stronger than this Miller.” 

As you enter the house, a soft purr fills the air as your familiar furry companion, Giz, wraps himself around your legs. You squat down on the floor and feel the warmth of his fur as you pet him, "Missed you, little guy."

“He missed you too.” Your mom leans against the doorway, handing you an obnoxiously full glass of wine. “Had a feeling you came in for this. Are we gonna talk about what happened?” 

You sigh, standing up and rubbing your hands on your thighs. “Now’s not really the time or place, Mom. I just got here. The last thing I wanna think about is that.” You grab the glass out of her hand and attempt to turn around before her hand is on your shoulder, pulling you back. 

“Not so fast.” You turn around and meet her concerned eyes, your hands feeling more sweaty than they did a minute ago. “Y/N, no one just up and leaves their entire life for the past two years suddenly without something major happening. I know you haven’t told anyone- and I know the last thing you want to do is talk about it- but please, for the love of God, talk to someone. We can all tell something is off. You’re not yourself, honey. We care about you- and we’re concerned. As much as I’m so fucking happy to have you back, I know something bad happened, and I want to be there for you.” 

“Mom,” You put your hand on her shoulder, fighting back tears with a smile. “You’re doing enough. I just want to have a good time, focus on being in my dream school, and g-get my life back together, okay?” 

“O-okay,” she nods, her voice laced with apprehension as she turns away from you and back into the kitchen, “Pasta on the stove if you want it!” 

“Thanks!” you yell, shutting the back door behind you and sighing loudly as you plop back into your chair, earning an eyebrow raise from everyone, “I’m here for an hour and she’s already bugging me.”

“She just loves you, Y/N/N.” Ben tries to reason, and you feel your leg bounce. 

“Yeah,” you mumble, fidgeting with the poker chips on the table.

“So,” Anakin leans forward, opening another beer, “You and that guy still together? What was his name.. Harry? James?”

“Nick.” You answer for him, unconsciously biting your lip. “And no, we’re not.” Everyone’s ears suddenly perked up at the confession, the consensus being just how little they knew about your life. 

“Damn, what’d you do?” Anakin jokes, searching your face for a smile, only to be met with nothing.

“Ha. Good one.” You chuckle under your breath, your lips forming into a frown.

As soon as Anakin brought up Nick, you lost interest in the conversation. Nick never met the family; you only told them about him over the phone while you were gone. He had always insisted that your life was meant to be in Hampton with him, where you would create something new together. You didn’t need to return home to your family; if you did, you’d be leaving him all alone. Holidays and significant moments came and went, and all the while, you were stuck at a college you loathed, sharing your life with a man you mistakenly believed was the one.  

During your nights in Hampton, you and Nick would often find yourselves curled up on the couch, indulging in excessive drinking while he introduced you to various illicit substances. You pretended to enjoy soccer and cocaine, drinking more tequila than you needed. Shot after shot, followed by line after line, you barely knew who you were. He constantly told you how pretty you were, how you were made for him, but if you forgot to run to the liquor store that day, he would treat you as if you were dead to him. Nick offered little in return for your support, except for empty assurances that the life you would build together would make it all worthwhile. Nick's behavior took a downward spiral as he began staying late at work and arriving home in a drunken stupor. From that point on, things spiraled out of control. 

And maybe a part of you once loved Nick, but now you felt suffocated in the relationship. And when you tried to bring things up to him, he’d tell you that you were a cheap whore who was only made to be his personal fuck toy. And just like that, the conversation came to an end. The coercion left, and he started to force you to use the drugs he’d use, tell you to skip class, skip tests, skip your job- you were losing yourself within him, and you were worried about the consequences if you didn’t let it happen. He was always a kind, sweet, romantic boy- but he could be so, so evil. 

And you’ll never forget the first time he hit you, the sound of his hand connecting with your skin echoing in your ears. As you sat on the counter, the alcohol made your vision blur, and your head throbbed as if it was about to explode. You were already at your limit, and the last thing you wanted was to do was another line. Your nose was already starting to bleed a little, and he begged and begged for you to keep going- telling you he needed it. He didn’t want to do it alone- you had to do it. As you stubbornly declined once more, a sudden, fiery sting seared across your cheek, causing your nose to finally bleed and droplets of blood to stain your thigh. He apologized profusely, waiting on you hand and foot as he cleaned you up, held your hair as you puked, washed you, and still talked you into sex- but it had happened. You knew you needed to leave, or your life could be at stake. 

“Y/N?” Ben asks, and you break out of your Nick-induced trance with a sharp gasp, your eyes glossy and lips bloody from your nervous tic. 

“I’ll be back.” You stand back up, taking a concerningly long swig from the wine before exiting out the back gate and into the driveway. 

“I’m really concerned about her.” Ben watches you leave and bites his lip. Ahsoka nods along with him. “Listen, as happy as I am to have her back, something’s not right. As her brother, I just- I fear the worst. She’s not herself.” 

“Did you see the way she reacted when you asked about Nick?” Ahsoka whispered, leaning in to closer to the table, “Something had to have happened.”

“Wait.” Anakin says, as he and Ben both turn to face her, their brows furrowed in confusion and concern, “Ahsoka, you don’t know anything either? She’s your best friend.”

“I- I know nothing. And I hate it.” She confesses to the boys, the air growing thick as Anakin uncomfortably shifts in his seat, and Ben sighs.

“I think I’m gonna try to talk to her.” Anakin stands slowly as Ben raises a brow and leans back in his chair, closing his eyes.

“Anakin, no offense, but I doubt she’ll want to talk to you,” Ahsoka murmured, avoiding his scowl. 

“Well,” he pushes the chair behind him, walking towards the gate. “We’ll see!” 

Curled up in the Papasan chair on the porch, you lit the joint between your fingers and watched as the lights in your neighbor's windows turned off. Your thoughts drifted from Nick and onto the childhood you missed dearly—so many snowball fights on the street before you, bike rides, and scraped knees. You remember the Johnsons across the street particularly not liking Anakin, so you and Ahsoka egged their house, only to backfire and get Anakin in trouble. You confessed to doing it, and no one believed you. It had to be Anakin. But for some strange reason, he never cared. He accepted the punishment, mowed their yard for a year, and never brought it up to you, no matter how many times you apologized. And every apology that slipped from between your lips was met with a grin. 

And that time in 7th grade when Ahsoka really got into it with Julie down the street. She never liked Ahsoka and always found a way to get under her skin. However, this time was particularly awful. When you found Ahsoka, she was sobbing on the corner while Julie laughed at her, calling her pathetic, telling her that even her adopted parents didn’t love her and that her big brother wasn’t there to save her now. But you were. You pushed Julie onto the grass so fucking hard, only for her to get back up and swing. Ahsoka screamed for you to stop, but a newfound rage took over as you pounded into Julie’s face. She ended up on the pavement with a broken nose, and you ended the fight with a fractured wrist and grounded for a month (Only a month because your mom found out who you fought and what she said). Anakin was waiting for Ben to return from tennis and heard the commotion. He ran down the street, finding Ahsoka sobbing, Julie on the pavement, bloody and teary, and you sitting on the corner, shaking and clutching your throbbing wrist in your hand. He instantly asked Ahsoka what happened before making his way to you, holding your wrist, picking you up, and taking you and Ahsoka back to your house. Your mom called Julie’s mom and talked about what happened, and fortunately, Julie confessed to everything. And that’s when you found out her parents were going through a nasty divorce, and Julie was starting therapy. And surprisingly, she actually grew into a really decent, respectable person. 

The four of you had always done everything together. You had always been inseparable. And when you left, it tore that apart. You left a hole in Brookline, and you knew it as well as they did. Even though they swore they were happy for you, moving on and doing more, you could see in their eyes that they selfishly did not want you to leave. They didn’t like the years of friendship to be put on hold just like that. And, of course, you felt guilty about it all, but you thought you needed to get out of Brookline. You assumed you wanted something bigger than Boston, bigger than you, bigger than those childhood friends. And two years later, you realize just how naïve you were. Those were your lifelong friends; your life was in Boston, and your dream school was there, too. You missed them more than you could ever envision, and the guilt ate at you every single fucking day. And you wished that 19-year-old you had just stayed. Things would be so much simpler if you had stayed. You let some pathetic man in Hampton tell you that it was just you and him- forever. And you knew deep down your 19-year-old naive self didn’t believe a fucking word he said- she just wished she did.  

“Oh, that’s not a cigarette.” Your eyes flicker up from the street and towards a drunken Anakin leaning against the patio rail in front of you. His lips were curled into a mischievous smile, his hair curly and messy. 

“No,” You lean forward, handing him the joint, “No, it’s not.” 

“So,” He took a quick draw from the joint, flicking it against the deck railing as he looked back at you and smiled, “You just got here, and you’re already running from us? What’s up with that?” 

You scoff, snatching the joint from him and leaning back in the chair. 

“Just wanted some alone time, is all.” You avoid his gaze, and it’s his turn to scoff, plopping himself next to you in the chair. 

“Yeah, because you’ve been so fond of that your entire life. I don’t believe you.” 

“And? Never said I cared that you did.” You quickly retorted, earning an eyebrow raise and a smirk. 

“Relax,” he said, snatching the joint back from you and holding it hostage. “Talk to me. It’s just us.” His hand met yours; his gaze was intense and empathetic. 

You weren’t sure why you wanted to tell him. It was probably the weed mixed with a bit of liquid courage, but in that moment, you needed to get it out. He was so welcoming, holding your hand and offering you the comfort you needed in that moment. Was it pure manipulation? Possibly. But you knew Anakin loved you just as much as you loved him, and you knew you could trust him. He had kept your secrets before, so what’s another one? However, none of those other secrets typically included an abusive relationship; it was mainly about Ben and Ahsoka. You gripped his hand back, watching his eyes soften and his lips curve into a small smile.

“Just-” You started, dropping your voice into a low murmur, “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t.” He looked into your eyes like he would die to protect your secret. That was precisely what you needed to see. 

“Nick- uh- sorry,” You sniffled, rubbing your eyes as you searched for the right words. “He- uh- he hurt me—a lot. I barely made it out of that relationship in one piece. I think my breaking point was when I asked him to visit for your grandma’s funeral, and he knocked me out. I woke up in my bathtub, my face covered in my blood, and he was gone. I applied to MIT that morning. The day after I got in, I packed everything I could and left. He’s blocked on everything, and he hasn’t attempted to reach out in any sort of way. Anakin- I don’t know what would have happened to me if I didn’t leave.”

Your eyes met Anakin’s glossy ones as your hands shook underneath his touch. He crooked his head to the side, bringing you in for a much-needed hug. You let yourself cry softly in his arms, feeling his shaky hands rub in slow motions up and down your back, his other hand stroking the top of your scalp.

 But when he looked back at you, the softness in his gaze had disappeared. His fists clenched at his side, his eyebrows furrowed as he bit his lip in frustration. 

“A-Anakin?” 

“Y/N, why didn’t you tell anybody? We would’ve come to help! We could have put that piece of shit in jail by now!” He stands up abruptly, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing deeply. 

“I-I’m sorry- I-” You stutter, your mind racing as he paces before you. His eyes meet yours, and he points at you as your heartbeat accelerates.

“Y/N, I swear to god- I’m gonna kill that motherfucker. He’s fucking dead. I don’t care what hap-” He stops momentarily, cut off by your sobs from the chair. Fuck. He’s yelling at a domestic violence victim- no- he’s yelling at you. What a fucking asshole. 

“HeyHeyHeyHey-” He’s quickly on his knees in front of you, shushing and brushing your hair out of your face, “I’m so fucking sorry- that was so selfish of me to do. I shouldn’t have said or done any of that. You opened up to me, and I yelled at you.. that will never happen again, okay? Why don’t we get you to bed?” He held your hands in his, searching your red eyes for an answer as you quickly nodded. 

“Okay, I’m gonna go say goodnight to everyone, you just hold tight here. Sound good?” You nodded once again, and he giggled. “Words, sweetheart. I need you to say something.”

“That’s what I want, Ani. Bed.” You mumble out, forming your lips into a sad smile. His heart broke at the sight of you. 

The second the back gate opened back up, Ben and Ahsoka immediately shot out of their chairs at the sight of Anakin. Their interrupted conversation suddenly had no meaning as he entered, taking a quick seat next to them.

“She’s- uh- she’s pretty upset. And fucked up. I’m gonna take her to bed.” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair as Ben and Ahsoka looked at him, puzzled. 

“Well, what happened? Is she okay? Does she need help?” Ahsoka frantically broke the silence, asking the questions she and Ben were both thinking. 

“Listen, she’s in rough shape right now. I’m just gonna get her to sleep, and I’ll tell you guys all about it. I don’t even know if she’s done talking about it. I’ll be right back.” 

“Y/N?” He calls out your name as he steps on the other side of the gate, jogging up the front porch to see you passed out in the chair, joint hanging loosely from your fingers. 

Amused, he grabs the roach from your fingers and casually tosses it off the porch, letting out a small laugh. Clearly, you didn't waste any time before drifting off to sleep. All the crying and weed must have done something. As he crouches down beside you, he tenderly brushes your hair, his eyes filled with adoration as he looks at your sleeping figure. 

“I’m so sorry about everything,” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, sighing softly, “I know you’re going to hate me for what I’m gonna do. Just please know it’s in your best interest. I care about you so much.” He bites his lip in thought, his eyes searching your figure.

As he rises to his feet, he effortlessly swipes your phone and tucks it away, his eyes briefly glancing at your water bottle. With a tender gesture, he reaches his arms beneath you, drawing you close to his chest and ensuring the blanket envelops you snugly as he lifts you from the chair. Your head is cradled against his chest, his hand wrapped around your waist and under your knees. 

Anakin carried you gently up the stairs of your house, each step creaking under the weight of his feet. Passing through the familiar corridors, he reached your bedroom door and pushed it open, immediately being overwhelmed by the alluring scent of your space. As he laid you down on your bed, he couldn't help but notice how little the room had changed since you left, the same photos on the walls and the same worn-out rug. Your mom kept everything intact, probably hoping you’d come back eventually. He filled your water bottle, plugged your phone in, left some medicine on your nightstand, and tucked you in tightly. Just as he turned on the fan and kissed your forehead goodnight, your eyes fluttered open to meet with his, and you gave him a sleepy smile. 

“Ani?” You mumbled, watching as his smile grew above you. 

“Hey, sweetheart, feeling pretty sleepy, huh?” 

“Mhm,” You stretched your arms out momentarily as you yawned. “I’m sorry I dropped all of that on you earlier. And I’m just- I’m sorry about it all. I feel so-”

“Y/N,” He gets on his knees next to you, the warmth in his eyes matching the tender smile on his lips, “You don’t need to apologize for a thing. I’m always here. And so are Ben and Ahsoka. We got you. You take as much time as you need to process, recover, and do whatever you need to, okay? It’s about you, Y/N/N, don’t worry about us.” You giggle and nod at his words, your eyes attempting to flutter shut. He laughs at your exhaustion, ruffling up the hair on your head. “Sleep well, okay? I’ll be here if you need me.” 

He closes your door and leans against the door frame, exhaling heavily as he tries to make sense of everything that happened throughout the night. How could someone be so fucking despicable to do this to you? His girl. His fists clenched tightly at his waist, his eyes burning with rage as he vividly imagined the torment you endured. He tried not to let his mind go there. He really did. Resting against your bedroom door, vivid visions of you, covered in blood and pleading for help, overwhelmed him, plunging him into a downward spiral. And in a moment of weakness, he did exactly what he promised he wouldn’t do.

“She was abused. Badly.”

“WHAT?”

Ben and Ahsoka jump from their seats on the porch, rushing towards Anakin as he angrily makes his way from the house onto the deck. 

“That fucking piece of shit!” Ben shouts, punching his fist against the side of the house while Ahsoka tries to calm Anakin down, asking him for more details.

“Okay, Anakin, I need you to give me more than just ‘abused.’ I know you have details.” Ahsoka sputtered while she held the sides of his arms, guiding him over to the table to sit down while Ben paced behind them. 

“It was that asshole she was dating for the past two years- Nick. The one we conveniently never met, which I’m sure was on purpose. She didn’t tell me much other than that if she didn’t leave when she did, she could’ve- well- she- it just wouldn’t have ended well.”

Anakin's words hung in the air, creating a thick silence that was almost tangible with tension. Anakin's throat tightened as he locked eyes with Ben and Ahsoka, their glossy gazes reflecting their shared pain. Ben found a spot at the table, deep in thought, as he absentmindedly stroked his chin, his eyes devoid of any emotion. Ahsoka carefully finished the last of her wine, the cling! of it ringing out as the glass met the table one last time.  

“Well-” Ben tried to start, cut off by his sudden sobs. He pushed his head on the table, covering his face from Ahsoka and Anakin as he attempted to take deep breaths, processing the information he had just learned. In an effort to hold back tears, Anakin bit his lip, his hand trembling as he rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes squeezed shut tightly. As she silently wept, Ahsoka soothingly rubbed Ben's back, hoping to ease his pain.

“I just- I should have known.” She mumbled, picking the cat's hair off of the back of Ben’s sweater. 

“There’s no way you could’ve, Snips.” 

“It’s just that- I thought it was odd when she suddenly asked me to pick up her cat. Saying she couldn’t take care of him and that it was an emergency. I never even met Nick, and she wouldn’t let me stay at the apartment long. I hardly saw her. So many fucking red flags..” she trailed off, feeling her head hurt at the thought. 

“Ahsoka, it’s okay.” Ben sniffled, lifting his head off the table as his red eyes met Anakin’s. “There is no one at fault here other than Nick.”

"Exactly," Anakin paused momentarily at his comment, his eyes widening. “Guys, she made me promise I wouldn’t tell you. Considering everything, I think we should wait until she opens up. Even though it hurts, the last thing I’d want to do is hurt her anymore.”

“Yeah,” Ben whispers, and Ahsoka nods, holding onto each other as they try to calm down.  

“We should get to bed, guys. It’s 3:30.” Anakin mumbles as he stands up and stretches, offering his hand to Ahsoka. “We’ll see you soon, Ben. Get some rest.”

As he lay in bed, Anakin’s mind wandered off to you. How could it not? Besides being your best friend, he always looked for more in you. The knowledge weighed heavily on him, and he despised himself because of it. To him, you were his world, his everything. Always. And hearing/seeing how hurt you were? It fucking destroyed him. So, he let himself cry. He allowed himself to feel those emotions for you, and he always had buried them deep down. Instead, he buried his face in his pillow and soaked it with his tears. His admiration for you would never falter, and neither would his protectiveness. He felt as if a part of him failed, and as a result, his guard was down. He felt the desire to love you and keep you safe increased, knowing that getting the chance to do so may destroy him inside and out.

And it didn’t help that you lost your virginities to each other. Sharing such a unique, intimate moment with the person he always knew was the one, well, that just really fucked things. Literally. There wasn't a moment when he wasn't haunted by the memories of that night; it was a constant presence in his mind. And then he got with Padme, and you left for Virginia, and things got so lost and confused, and life moved on. You moved on. He tried to. But he searched for you in everyone and everything. Padme knew it, he knew it, fuck, his mother probably knew it! He’s just thankful Ben doesn’t know it. As much as he hated to say it, Anakin knew he would have gone back in time to do anything to change that moment. Because now you’re here, and his feelings have only intensified. Feelings that should have left a long, long time ago. And yet, as he cried himself to sleep, he continued to dream of you, just like every night before.

Please let me know if you wish to be tagged!

Series tags: @w0rsh1psells @ursogorgeous13 @tommyvelvet @mistress-amidala @queenofnigthdarkness @nikkissecretlibrary @doblasftcisco @ann4zw @catachlysmicjedi @googie-jeon @xoxo-hayden-fangurl-xoxo @anakinstwinklebunny

[allur1ngs]

✮ enflame ✮

TW: bada being too fine for her own good, a little bit of possessive!bada, lots of protective!bada, cold!bada (to anyone who isn't you), super brief mentions of violence, bada having beef w your bodyguard, pushy men, btw the picture to the farthest right is purely for aesthetics and not meant to represent reader’s skin tone or body type!!

SUMMARY: you manage to tear bada away from her work for an evening of shopping, where the soft spot she has for you is unveiled.

part iii. bloody knuckles

WC: 2.9k

A/N: read this for more background on this au. this is not exactly a part two to the headcanons but i got this idea out of nowhere so yeahhh

DISCLAIMER: all characteristics portrayed are purely speculation and fiction, they are not meant to reflect bada's actual character, values, or attitudes. please keep this in mind!!

From the moment Bada arose from her slumber, she sensed that her day would be draining. Usually, waking up before the sun had the chance to peak above the horizon wasn't difficult for her—so many years of doing so had made sleep fatigue all too familiar. However, last night, she stayed awake into the wee hours of the morning, something she typically tried to avoid.

So when her body starts to naturally wake up only a few hours later, she groans loudly into her pillow, squeezing her eyes shut and mentally cursing her past self for staying up so late.

Although all she wants is to stay in bed more than anything, she forces herself to rise from her plush king-sized bed and tosses the warm sheets aside.

Briefly, she turns around to gaze at the spot where she had just been lying when a thought strikes her. You must be asleep in your own bedroom. Curled up in a similar, large bed, a pocket of heat cradling your figure while your chest slowly rises and falls. Your eyes must be tightly shut, eyelashes fluttering as you fight to remain asleep despite the rays of sunlight that will soon begin to peek through your curtains. Your soft lips must be pursed together. Your lips...

Bada wishes you both shared the same bed. She wishes she hadn't been so courteous to buy you a new bed, comfortable sheets, and all the amenities you needed when you first arrived. She wishes instead that you were lying in her bed. She wishes she could wrap her arms around you, and pull you close whilst you slept. She wishes she could foster a beautiful heat between your two bodies. She wishes she could run her fingers across your skin--

Bada shakes her head, sighs loudly, and turns away sharply from her bed. She rubs her eyes as she makes her way over to her dresser, mumbling berating words under her breath for thinking of you in such a way. It's not appropriate and beyond that, those types of thoughts lead to feelings, which she does not--cannot have for you.

Bada's day seems to worsen after dressing herself in her usual attire, a freshly ironed black suit and slacks. The fabric touches her uncomfortably, and still feeling the edges of sleep mar her vision, everything is suddenly bothering her.

But the final nail in the coffin is when Lusher, one of Bebe's most trusted mafia members, walks into her office hours later, carrying a tray of breakfast.

Immediately looking up from the papers in front of her, Bada expects to see your lovely face greet her, but is met with Lusher's cheeky expression instead. She tries not to display her palpable disappointment, but concealing her feelings has never quite been her strong suit. Her mother had told her this many times when she was younger.

"Don't jump out of your seat in excitement, now." Lusher jokes, placing the breakfast tray on the desk.

Bada's lips tighten into a firm, thin line as she stares down at the food, feeling her hunger quickly escape her. "Thanks."

"I know I'm not who you wanted to see, but I can't lie, your disappointment hurts me." Lusher moves a hand to her chest, acting like she'd been wounded.

Bada sighs, shaking her head. "Why isn't she here this morning?"

"Still in bed, apparently." Lusher clasps her hands behind her back. "We found her asleep on the couches late last night. She must have been waiting for you to leave your office so she could wish you a good night, but ended up falling asleep out of exhaustion."

The butterflies that dance in Bada's stomach internally, are a stark contrast to the disapproving expression she wears externally. "I've told her many times not to wait up for me. It's not healthy to be staying up so late."

Lusher sighs dramatically. "You're telling me. How many times have I asked you to head to bed earlier?"

"That's different." Bada denies while picking up her golden ink pen and continuing to write. "I have work to do. Waiting so late into the morning just to wish me a good night is..."

"Sweet? Incredibly kind, and definitely a testament to how endearing your fiancée is?"

Bada clicks her tongue in annoyance. "What are you still doing here? Don't you have something better to do than bothering me?"

"You know there's nothing I like more than bothering you." Lusher shoots back with a sly smile.

Bada tried to continue working, she really did. She attempted to push through filling out papers, even though her wrist was screaming at her to take a break. However, come midday, she was already fed up.

Ruffling her hair and groaning loudly, Bada stands up from her table, the chair she'd been sitting out whining loudly against the floor. She wastes no time in shuffling to the door, grabbing the handle, and pulling it open.

Right when she does, she catches a flash of your figure walking down the hall toward her, your bodyguard only a few paces behind you. As her gaze connected with yours, she felt as if the world transformed, shifting from monochrome sketches to vibrant watercolor paintings

"Oh." You speak first, an easy smile finding your lips. "Good afternoon, Bada."

"Good afternoon." She greets back, trying her damnedest not to sound overjoyed at your presence. "Were you coming to see me?"

"I was." You nod. "I just wanted to let you know I'm planning on going to the mall."

"Are you now?" Bada says absentmindedly, her hand coming up to clutch at her tie and loosen it. The fabric suddenly feels much too tight around her neck.

"Yes..." You trail off, your eyes taking in how Bada's pale and lithe fingers grab at her tie and jostle it around, making it dangle a bit messily across her collarbones. Such a simple action should not be so attractive, no--it shouldn't. It's really ridiculous how easy it is for your fiancée to be so naturally alluring.

"That sounds nice." She hums. "Are you looking to buy something in particular?"

"No, not really." You shake your head. "I'm really just going to look around, and not stay at home all day."

Home. Bada's heart warms at you calling the mansion you both reside in your home. Although it technically is, it's different for you to perceive it as such. It means you feel comfortable here, with her--living with her--

"You should come with me." Your voice brings Bada out of her stupor, her eyes immediately finding yours.

Her mouth opens and closes dumbly, a clear look of shock painted across her face. She tries to quickly gather her bearings, half-heartedly muttering out, "I--I wish I could, but I have a lot of work to do--"

"Bada, all you do is work," you remark, crossing your arms over your chest. She has to force herself not to think about how cute you look doing so. "You deserve to have some downtime. Even if it is only for a few hours."

She stands there, still a bit shell-shocked, staring at you before her eyes shift to the figure behind you, finding your bodyguard, who is trying very hard to conceal her amused smile behind a shaky hand.

Bada's gaze turns icy as she eyes down your bodyguard, prompting the subordinate to immediately turn away and dispel her smile. "All right. I'll come with you."

"Wait, really?" You awe, your eyes going wide and your smile growing. "I didn't think you'd actually say yes."

"Well, you're right. I do need a break. At the rate I'm working at now, I'll never do anything productive by the end of the day." Bada admits with a tired smile. "Are you ready to go, then?"

"Yes." You begin to nod, but your smile slowly turns into a frown. "But you should change into different clothing."

For the second time that day, Bada is left surprised by your boldness. "Change? Why?"

"Don't you want to wear something other than a suit for once?" You ask innocently. "It seems... stuffy to be in it all day."

"Stuffy." She laughs breathily. "I guess you're right." Bada looks between you and your bodyguard. "Will you be all right to wait for me?"

"Of course." You smile.

"Great." She smiles back.

When Bada comes back, she isn't wearing her usual black suit. And although you'd been the one to suggest it, you're not quite ready for how amazing she looks in casual clothing.

A black leather jacket is draped over her shoulders, with slick white lines running down the sleeves and across the chest. She has paired the jacket with matching black leather pants and a black shirt.

In that moment, you want to scream at whatever higher power exists for making your fiancée so unfairly attractive. How were you supposed to act normal around her when her mere presence makes you hot below the collar?

Well, despite your internal struggles you give her a compliment before you're off to the mall, hopping into a sleek black sports car and speed away.

Your first destination in the large mall is a relatively luxurious clothing store. You can't lie; you had wanted to go into the store since you passed it on one of your trips to the mall without Bada, but you were too intimidated to enter. However, now, with her by your side, you feel much more comfortable stepping into the expensive store.

Approaching the door, your bodyguard begins to step forward, about to open the door for you like she always does, but Bada is quicker. She grabs onto the handle and opens the door, stepping aside to make room for you to walk in.

You look at her and smile while mumbling a soft thank you, to which she gives you a small smile back and nods. Your bodyguard begins to walk in after you, but again Bada is faster and enters the store, letting the door swing closed behind her. It almost hits your bodyguard in the face, making her flinch back and sigh.

"Keep a look out from there," Bada tells her sternly through the glass doors.

"Yes, Boss," your bodyguard begrudgingly mumbles back, understanding that this is payback for teasing your fiancée earlier.

Bada turns back around, her eyes easily finding you in the small crowd of people. You're looking around the store with wide eyes, a smile gracing your lips as you observe the embellished clothing around you. She smiles fondly to herself, finding every expression of yours much too cute for your own good.

However, before she can make her way to you, the familiar sound of a voice greets her from behind. Turning around, she finds In-Su, one of her business partners and the owner of the clothing store. Greeting him back, an air of professionalism immediately envelops her as she begins to engage in conversation with him

Meanwhile, you're in your own personal heaven. The clothing you've been browsing is exactly your style, and despite the high prices, you know you can afford it all, thanks to the black credit card Bada had gifted you.

A few minutes later, your hands are already starting to get full as you reach to pull another article of clothing from the rack when you suddenly feel a firm force push into your side, causing you to lose your balance and almost fall to the floor. making you lose your balance and almost fall to the floor. Thankfully, you manage to steady yourself before you do, huffing while turning to your right to see what--or more accurately who--had bumped into you.

"Excuse me." A well-dressed man stands a few feet away from you, his lips forming a snobbish frown.

Despite your irritation, you instinctively apologize. "Oh, sorry--"

"It's fine." He cuts you off, eyeing you up and down. "You should be careful where you stand."

Internally, you scoff at the man, but externally, you only mumble another half-hearted apology before turning away and walking down another aisle.

"Have I seen you before?" The man follows after you.

"I don't think so." You answer back flatly, trying to ignore him and busy yourself by flipping through pairs of jackets.

"I swear I've seen you before. I never forget the face of a beautiful woman."

This time, you're unable to control your expression and outwardly cringe. Is this random man who bumped into you flirting with you right now? After acting so rude?

You say nothing to him in response, choosing to completely ignore him instead.

"You know, when someone compliments you, it's common courtesy to say thank you."

Now you're starting to get increasingly anxious. You don't feel brave enough to confront the man, but he doesn't seem to understand that you're not interested and clearly uncomfortable with his advances.

Taking your silence in offense, the man scowls before grabbing your wrist rather roughly, making you drop all the clothing you'd been holding, and twists you around to face him.

You gasp at his painful hold, attempting to break away from him but unable to due to the sheer strength of his grip. "Let me--" you begin, but the words die in your mouth upon seeing someone standing behind him.

The man, who had been staring you down, notices the shift in your expression and suddenly becomes aware of a very strong presence behind him. He turns around, still gripping your wrist, and comes face to face with a scarily calm Bada Lee.

"Do you need something?" He snaps at her dumbly.

Bada stares down at him with steely eyes, her expression so devoid of emotion you're almost terrified for him. "I believe I should be asking you that question. Is there a reason why you're touching my fiancée?"

The man looks between you and Bada, scoffing disapprovingly. "Tch, she didn't tell me she was engaged."

"Even if she wasn't, in what world would it be appropriate to touch a woman who clearly isn't interested in your pathetic advances like that?" She asks rhetorically, her voice rising with every syllable. Clearly, her anger was getting to her.

The man grits his teeth, feeling his ego bruise because not only is Bada embarrassing him, but she's also easily intimidating him with her presence. "Hey, just who do you think you are?" He raises his voice to match hers.

"I think the real question is," Bada takes a step closer, leaving hardly any space between her and him, "who the fuck do you think you are?"

In that moment, the man's entire demeanor shifts. He turns to look around the store, finding every shopper, worker, and even the store owner staring back at him, eyebrows furrowed, and eyes set into firm glares. Some of them have their hands in their pockets or are grabbing something hidden next to them. His face pales, and looking back at Bada, her face starts to become familiar. He hadn't recognized her out of her normal formal attire, but now--

He gulps, quickly letting go of your wrist like your skin burned him and steps away from you both, his posture shrinking. He starts to make his way toward the exit, attempting to ignore the stares of everyone in the store but is stopped before he can make it out.

"And where do you think you're going?" Bada's hardened voice echoes through the store, making the man freeze in his spot, his entire body going rigid.

Bada's footsteps slowly approach him from behind again and stop just shy of him.

"You made her drop her clothing."

The man turns around, avoiding eye contact with Bada and finding your eyes instead. He's about to mumble an apology when she speaks up again.

"Pick it up." She demands flatly.

The man stays still in his spot, shocked and embarrassed. But clearly, he didn't move fast enough for Bada's liking, because he feels himself get shoved in your direction, almost falling onto his face.

"Do it. Now." She says, her voice bordering on yelling.

Immediately, the man throws himself onto the floor, scrambling to pick up every article of clothing he made you drop. He does so as quickly as possible, then stands up, about to pass you the clothing, when he feels Bada's unwavering gaze bore into him and decides it's in his best interest not to touch you anymore, so he carefully drapes the clothes across your arms.

He turns back to face Bada, approaching her with a cold sweat.

"Hold on." She stops him yet again. "You bumped into her, didn't you?"

"I--" He tries to explain himself but is cut off.

"Apologize."

This time, the man wastes no time in fulfilling her demands. He turns to you, apologizing profusely while shaking like a leaf. You're unable to even think about accepting his apologies before he practically runs to the store doors, throws them open, trying to leave the mall. But as always, Bada is ten steps ahead.

She nods at your bodyguard, who grabs onto the man's suit with little effort, turns him around, and punches him straight in the gut.

Bada then steps in front of you, blocking you from seeing what your bodyguard is doing to the man. Her hands grab the clothing from your arms, relieving you of their weight before slinging them across her right shoulder. She then gently holds your wrist up to her eyes, the ice behind them shifting to a warm and caring glow.

"Does it hurt?" She asks softly.

You feel your body turn to mush at the attention she gives you. "A little."

Bada sighs, leans in, and places her soft lips against your wrist, kissing it with a reverence and sweetness everyone besides you is surprised to see.

It's clear to everyone that the ice around Bada's heart melts only for you.

enflame: to excite to excessive or uncontrollable action or feeling

[apocalypse-shuffle]

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆DROLTA TZUENTES⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ | THE DEMONESS (castlevania: nocturne)

—

“Solar Prominences” (Drolta Tzuentes x Fem!Reader)

| Drolta has been going down a path, long enacting a plan, that you wish you didn’t have to take. Even still, you’d follow the love of your immortal life all the way to the end, even if it killed you.

| SFW, established relationship, angst, some comfort, murder, alatrism, Egypt, this reader-insert does not like Erzsebet, exposition heavy - vampire!reader

| Also not Drolta highkey being a soucouyant. I love it, don’t get me wrong, but I truly do not understand some of the design choices made for her character from a creature standpoint. SEASON TWO SPOILERS. (Pic source: Castlevania: Nocturne - “Devourer of Light” S1EP8)

| 2k+ words

Night Eternal.

The sun: eaten.

Wide eyes stare ceaselessly at the covered sun and darkened sky. Your gaze bouncing all over the stretched corners of Earth’s world above and all your brothers and sisters of the vein soaring through the air during what should’ve been noon.

On the rooftop you’ve since claimed a woman lands behind you.

You hear the jingle of Drolta’s jewelry before she properly announces herself.

The subtle clack of her hoofed heels and flap of her wings come next. Then the whoosh of her hair, the open sound of her flames dying down, registers to your ears.

Arms crossed, you drum the sharp points of your nails against the brown expanse of your skin, brows lifting.

“What did I tell you, my Sweet?”

Quiet, you swallow the residual blood in your mouth from the Noblewoman you’d snatched from her carriage the moment darkness overtook the sun. Earlier in the week she’d likened your hair to the ‘dirty’ swamp moss she’d encountered during her visit to Louisiana; cockier around you than she should’ve been despite knowing what you were, too caught up on her pretend version of what the ‘natural order of things’ was.

So ‘naturally’ you drained her gaunt, and then turned to her handmaiden because even after her you’d still found yourself peckish.

These French and their ridiculous dedication to aesthetics. Absentmindedly, you flick a bit of severed flesh from your cleavage; so unnecessarily skinny the lot of them. You missed when aristocrats (even dedicated to not washing as they were) weren’t afraid to have a little meat on their bones to showcase their upper status.

Originally, you’d been planning on snatching her from her sleep after a bit of antagonism once true nightfall fell later today but you couldn’t complain about cutting short the restless anticipation that had before now had nothing better to do than fester restlessly under your skin.

“To believe,” you say at last, still chasing faint crimson with your tongue. Blood had a tendency to get trapped in the grooves of your fangs.

To believe in her impossible woman. In her false Vampire Messiah and her aggrandizing power grab.

Your brows furrow back over your dark eyes all over again.

How many years had you been by her side before Erzsebet even came into the picture, only to be cast as second priority to Erzsebet’s blood thirst and unwavering desire for conquest?

“Yes,” the corner of Drolta’s lips twitch upwards; not quite a smile for you, not yet. “And do you finally? Believe in our Messiah?”

Belief.

Faith.

What nonsense dogma. Such hollow promises.

You’d watched Sekhmet burned by the Christians, temples fallen, and faithful followers scorned without mercy. And through it all no worship had helped, no amount of sacrifice, or fighting, or tears.

No, your only constant had been Drolta and then a smear of seemingly never ending darkness atop your soul.

By the end you had learned your lesson, and yet still Drolta had failed to follow your lead. She’d clung to hope of blood possession and resurrection after you’d found yourself displaced from the safety of your lover - from Egypt - and shipped off in stacks of blood and sorrow and feces.

Still, you step back to turn from the building's edge. Drolta has always craved a higher purpose as long as you’ve known her. A ruthless, hands on way to worship and be rewarded in turn; her insistence of the same now was really nothing new bar your less than tolerant reaction towards it.

You weren’t too cocky to be unable to admit that you were…impressed, however.

She’d managed a lot with her bloodthirst and ever present plotting, broke the sun even.

What a miracle she’d orchestrated.

A hundred plus years on this neverending plane and finally something had managed to surprise you.

To yourself, you smile. Hide the tiny upturned corners of your mouth as you turn to your lover, hand an extra barrier from her gaze as you pass it through the air to sweep your cloud of thick curls over your shoulder. It cascades down the length of your back till the tips hang just past the rise of your backside, purposefully the opposite of the types of updos the French thought so favorably of for their women because you were not one of them and held no desire to be so either.

To Drolta, you give a steady look.

Following hasn’t been your particular cup of tea for the better half of multiple centuries. It only took so many years of being beaten to kneel for you to grow an aversion to its systematic use and the often heavily adorned, sometimes pale, faces who’d looked down at you in the thick of it.

And even still you hardly kneeled for Drolta unless the exchange was neutral. A natural cycle of give and take. Power exchanged willingly, participation optional.

Submitting yourself to a God’s whims, false or not, was the type of uneven exchange you preferred not to buckle for. Not anymore.

Not, especially, when it was Drolta’s bastardized Messiah.

Drolta should know that better than any soul still alive enough to tell the tale. You had not been modest about your aversion to submission during her time snatching displaced disciples from the European islands, you’re sure even that very passion had been what had drawn her so succinctly back to you in the first place.

And yet she asks you for your belief with such poorly hidden satisfaction, like all you had needed to give yourself wholly to a bitch you didn’t trust as far as you could hurl her into the sun to burn forever was Báthory making a bigger spectacle of herself than usual.

Oh how you miss the days when you’d both only existed for fucking and fighting and being free. Gorging yourselves on blood and death, beholden by your love for one another alone, and slaughtering your way through sands and snow and the King’s poorly controlled conquests before returning back home.

The raiders had already come and Sekhmet’s body had since been lost. Drolta had survived their merciless slaughtering of her sisters, and you had been brought in down the line to help her lead. To help her search.

Drolta and you had been free even despite the weight that hung over you nonetheless.

Free until Drolta’s eventual push for Báthory to take control in the face of your unacceptable reality took precedence. Until the promises of grandeur that Drolta had fed you fell at your feet, the new faulty deity that she’d built up needing to make followers anew in her vampiric image.

You’d made a beautiful offering to Báthory’s corrupted version of the goddess you'd once sworn yourself to. Convenient as her first turned, loyal to a fault to her faithful emissary, and too precious for Drolta not to keep near even whilst her priorities shifted away from you harder than ever.

For years prior it had been Drolta who you’d wanted to turn you, blessed as she’d been by your actual goddess as her most favored and ruthless priestess. Drolta, less human than you by far, had sworn to you she’d become your Maker and then promptly pivoted to convince you to take vampiric blood from the vein of another instead; to be similarly blessed by your goddess.

Except Erzsebet was hardly any goddess, reborn or otherwise, you didn’t care how much goddess blood she consumed. A fact that you, quite frankly, couldn’t stress enough even if your demoness continuously refused to listen.

Fury led your partner to previously unthought of extremes, however, and shame at her failure to be a proper priestess made her ambitious enough to give herself wholly to aiding whoever took to Sekhmet’s blood without succumbing to death. Drolta would never stop trying to make up for losing your goddess’s body, no matter if it meant calling Báthory her mistress and mauling through armies and hordes to get her on a throne.

The bullheaded woman in question draws closer. Walking past your shoulder to settle standing beside where you just were, overlooking Machecoul in all its darkened overcast glory.

Despite everything she still captures your attention.

She takes a moment to look at the eclipse. Tilts her head up and raises her arms beside her to catch the sun’s nullified beams against umber skin, to feel the wind’s delicate chill across supernatural features and outstretched wings.

The radiant ends of her tight curls dance in the breeze, little embers of colorful fire carried away by the current so fresh from her having fully transformed.

When she turns to you her lashes flutter, fuchsia eyes meeting your scarlet and locking you in place.

For a moment it’s as if she’s yours again.

As if you being hers holds the weight of every deceleration ever all at once; accumulated into one large forever vow to keep you.

Ensnared in her aura as you are when she shifts to take a step closer to you, outstretched and still raised hand turning up to invite yours, you unlock and take two deft steps of your own without a second thought.

Meeting her in the middle is easy. Magnetic attraction to your demoness more a well worn muscle than breathing at this point. You’re too far removed from your fledgling days to have pantomimed breath as a crutch in forever, but the devotion you stood by is your only constant in this un-life.

Once she gets her hands on you Drolta pulls you in with a blur of movement, her grasp unrelenting. She settles your hands on her hips without waiting for you to make the decision yourself, moves one of her now free hands to dance spindly fingers up your side and then rest her palm securely over your unmoving ribcage.

Grand leathery wings encircle you in their strange icy heat, surrounding you with just her. Her and the soft, colored insides of her wings that press against your unnaturally unscarred skin so succinctly.

“Hm,” she reaches her other hand up to ghost the tips of her nails down the side of your face, eyes searching, “I expected a bit more excitement for the miracle I helped orchestrate, you know?”

“I’m…awed,” you argue, trying not to let your face screw up.

Drolta raises a singular brow, expression unflinching. She palms the side of your face, skin cool as the dead, and rubs the pad of her finger across your lower lip.

“Oh, is that the look you’re giving me…?”

The drag of her thumb drags your attention away, your mind wandering bitterly and gaze following suit.

Whether or not you were excited really didn’t matter here.

“It’s the only look I have.”

In hardly a second the corners of her lips tick down into a frown and the quick look she drags down your body is tentative. Her face loses any traces of that worry just as it registers to you at all, though, gone too quickly for you to address.

When her thumb passes over your lip for the last time is the exact moment you realize she’s not just touching you to be sentimental either.

Drolta snatches you up by the chin, thumb digging not uncomfortably into the divot of your jaw, and forces the entirety of your gaze back onto her. She smiles at the way you frown, at the way you don’t resist.

“Nonsense. The sun is gone, most humans will die without it soon enough, and we will reign over all that remains.” The fingers on your ribcage shift like a spiders’ legs against your body in tandem with her words. Whether in admonishment or the simple urge to touch, you couldn’t guess. “Almost makes you feel alive, no?”

In her hold you twitch, bumping lightly into her wings.

Possibly.

“You make it sound far simpler than it is,” you murmur. The hold on your jaw eases up, a nail scrapes lightly across your cheek.

Drolta scoffs, luminous eyes sparking.

“There’s no use dawdling about the inevitable, my Sweet. You know that. We will rule by Sekhmet’s side again, and they will all bow or be slaughtered for their disobedience.”

“…If you believe that to be true,” you say.

The woman doesn’t so much as hesitate.

“I do.”

Her hand lifts from your ribs and Drolta takes care to sink her restless fingers into your dark hair. Touch undemanding when she scrunches it fondly, nails scraping lightly over your scalp. You lean into her hold like a withering flower long denied light.

Oh, to be hers again. To bring terror beside her like during the good eras you both lived once upon a time.

The scrape against your plumper skin stings, and then it bleeds. A singular drop falling from the finely split skin of your cheek. You don’t react to it until your lover brings her hand up to taste that bead of liquid, a line of your blood dragged down the middle of her tongue that she savors with a meager groan.

Lashes fluttering, you eagerly press back into her returning hold on your face. When you shut your eyes your lids fall heavily. You make a low noise in the back of your throat that borders on a growl, biting back your own groan, but grit your teeth against it anyway.

“Truly?”

Even while eager to taste yourself against her tongue you can’t help but to be dubious. Vampires had ruled once already, had they not? Even Dracula’s dominion had fallen, lordship finally ended in an evening. Even Sekhmet had been overshadowed, worshipers depleted to a pathetic degree compared to what they once were.

When her wings close even more securely around you it feels transcendent, you gasp at the cooling feel of them.

“Truly,” she murmurs, leaning in, the brush of her plush lips against yours almost playful when she grins. You find yourself matching her grin, if only smaller, and she chuckles lowly, lidded gaze intent on you. “There is no reason to doubt.”

Drolta’s mouth presses to yours with abandon, presence demanding as it crashes over you. She drags you in with a tug on your hair and then pulls you flush to her after bringing that very same hand down to grip your hip.

The kiss is crushing. Filled with years worth of elation, of satisfaction. It drags on for its own mini eternity, your tongues clashing as she dives in to taste the stray traces of blood staining your gums. Moaning, you wrap an arm around her to drag her impossibly closer by the waist, not fighting her palm on your cheek even as you bring your other hand up to take hold of her chin. Determined, you make her give you more access to her mouth, loosen her jaw so you can rub the tip of your tongue across her fangs and feel her shudder against you.

You stamp down your doubt only because it is her asking. Only because you want her to be so very correct on principle, even if it means ceding to Erzsebet.

At the end of the day you were happy as your own god, your own control, and your own rule maker. One god had failed you already, and unlike Drolta you would not go tracking down another Master. But, still, you could not quit Drolta. Not now.

Maybe not ever.

Her gaze is smouldering once your kiss breaks, her grasp on you remaining possessive.

Running your dark knuckles down the side of her face, pace steady, you allow her another fleeting smile.

This one is even smaller than the last but Drolta doesn’t notice enough for it to make any difference. She’s too busy staring off into the distance. Staring in the direction of the château and the grand woman who corrupted its shadow, the all powerful gift giver who has given you this night.

Nonetheless it’s not gratitude that twists your smile into something less pleasant. Not reverence that makes your eyes freeze over a brighter, frostier red.

There was a time where you complemented one another.

Where you’d vowed to be mistresses of your own domains and bow only to each other.

Now you’re not so sure she wouldn’t bow to a different mistress - her ‘goddess’ - if she took it upon herself to tear you in two with her pale crystalline hands.

Your touch upon her cheek turns sharp when you turn your hand to cup the side of her face, the tips of your nails biting into her supple skin.

How well gorged she is.

When Drolta glances with lidded pink eyes back to you she’s smirking. She thinks you're playing— her and her damned insistence on games.

Expression smoothing out to something more bored than not, you raise a brow.

“Fly back with me,” she says. An answer to a question not asked. “Let us serve Erzsebet together.”

You stare.

Curse this world and its poison called belief.

You’d had a lover once.

The corners of your eyes crinkle. If you had tears you would be too inclined to shed them.

Blinded by her devotion as she is Drolta doesn’t notice your despair. She just laughs to herself, eager to serve, even more so than typical of her.

Eager to kill, more like it.

When she looks back out to her Messiah her eyes twinkle, and where once you’d scene sapparies you now only see coal.

How had you not noticed just how far she’d fallen?

That she’d been taken from you?

“Of course,” you lie, words coating your blood stained tongue like ash.

Drolta smiles wider, pretty fangs glinting in the moon’s light, before her wings expand and flap behind her.

Pink magic swirls and her arms circle your waist. Red - your red - rushes up to match it, though wings of your own do not sprout, and with your combined abilities you take flight.

Absent your usual synergy you're almost disappointed the unconnected swirls of your energies still work to carry you towards a woman you were steady wanting less and less to do with.

Sorrow grips your unbeating heart whole and despair eats at it as you follow Drolta’s lead anyway, her arms still around you like she could keep any of the promises you whispered into one another’s skin what feels like eons ago.

Your lover’s embrace has never felt so false and the moon’s face has never looked so foreign.

The love of your life had been stolen from right under your nose and you hadn’t even noticed, no longer yours alone. No longer your beloved - your Drolta - but a believer; a follower.

Erzsebet’s beloved emissary.

Truly it had been foolish of you to ever think that after all their centuries together Drolta’s loyalty to Erzsebet Báthory could ever be shaken by her love for you, by your devotion to her, or the two lives you’ve shared together— one life more than Erzsebet’s gotten, but still not a divine enough life for you to stay the only woman at Drolta’s side.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!! Drolta’s ass was wrong the whole time, but pretty privilege is a bitch so here I am adding another evil woman to my collection anyway, I love this character bad.

Okay, I finally finished this show (in Nov 2024) and started getting some ideas by the last episode so here we go. And, really, my only serious complaint as of right now is the f-bomb crutch that impacted nearly every character’s dialogue; it really did get egregious at times. And keep in mind that I wrote this before season two dropped.

Also, me and Egypt are not familiar with one another so I kept things vague but if anything is super off (and outside of the boundaries set by the show) feel free to check me.

Also also, I made a True Blood reference if anybody caught it!

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

EDITED: 1/16//25 later in the day bcs I watched the first few episodes of season two.

[moodymisty]

Request: Horus, full-on breeding kink, no teasin' or quickies. Straight up pound town on his wife. The full Lupercal Special. Leave that woman whimperin' and unable to walk. Put a baby in that oven Mister Warmaster 🫡

Author’s note: I know it would largely be a horrid idea but I’d let all the Primarchs knock me up tbh.

Relationships: Horus Lupercal/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Breeding kink, Size difference, Slightly rough sex

Horus watches his men work, detailing their upcoming route as they prepare to depart from Terran space.

While the primarch is more than capable of multi-tasking, of listening into multiple different voices all giving out different information with ease, he also finds himself drifting off a bit.

Due to the length of many of these crusades, Horus sometimes elects to leave you on Terra in his personal wing of the palace. You don't like it- he doesn't either - but knowing the danger of these unknown paths he does it for the sake of your safety.

He may not particularly like Dorn, at least his stiff and unfriendly personality, but he knows the man has built the greatest and most impenetrable fortress humanity has yet seen. It's one of the few places he can leave you where he won't worry.

This last evening, his final one with you for what will more than likely be months, he made sure to make it one that would be remembered.

"Horus! M-more, please, more!"

Knees almost by your ears Horus drove his cock into you as deep as he could possibly go and past it, listening to you squeal as the thick base of his cock stretched you almost impossibly wide. You felt so tight, warm and wet; Horus wonders in a sadistic, selfish way if your body has been ruined and reformed to fit only him by his rutting.

With each thrust the bed groaned, creaking and cracking for mercy. Imperium builders struggled to form beds that looked appealing to the eye and the aesthetic of the palace that could also hold the full weight of a primarch, and settled somewhere in the middle. Though that middle ground didn't account for the added force Horus has put onto it, the frame threatening to break if he continued.

"Greedy, greedy girl. I spoil you too much,"

Horus chuckled at you, at the way one of your hands gripped his forearm as he pressed your left thigh against your stomach. The other laid in a similar position, knees by your ears, while your other hand grasped the pillow behind you for some semblance of support against him.

"You want me to cum in you again? Are you going to command a primarch?"

Horus loves to joke that you are his princess; His love that he'll give the very stars to if you only asked. That it's cute when you try and command him with your quiet, gentle voice.

You nodded, squealing and moaning as Horus thrusts into you and his hips slapped against your bruised thighs over and over. He forced his cum out of you each time, what wasn’t shoved out by the size of his cock and leaking out of you was sloshing around inside of you, filled to the brim.

"I want to come back from this crusade and see you with child. I am going to make sure of it."

You incoherently whined as your nails dug into his skin, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust.

He felt the way you tighten around him as you cum again, tears pricking in the corner of your eyes as his movements overstimulated you to almost pain. He could hear the dryness in your voice, from your whining and moaning, and you'll surely lose your voice tomorrow.

He had told you that you could be as loud as you wanted, but he wonders if you know that with astartes hearing, it's quite possible the guards outside could hear you. You would surely perish of embarrassment, but Horus is a boaster- and would love nothing more than for the entire palace and everyone inside of it hear how much you love when he fucks you.

“One more, Horus please one more,”

Horus chuckled. He wanted to give you one more; To fill you up one more time. He refuses to believe the Primarchs are sterile. You will get pregnant- he refuses to give in.

“Are you sure you have room? I don’t want you wasting it.”

He could feel how sticky you were, how much of his cum he had fucked out of you.

But he did give you one more despite his teasing, and one more after that, and only then did he finally pull out of you and listen to you whine in pain as the head of his cock popped past your entrance out of your abused cunt. More cum leaked from you without his cock to bully it inside, though he was sure it was only a fraction.

You fell asleep not long after.

He rose from his bed before the sun had risen, waking you up. The sleepy look on your face was so endearing as he kissed you goodbye, and you indeed had a sore voice. He had warned his men stationed as guard for his quarters that you were feeling a bit tired, woman’s troubles, and needed needed a few days of rest- they wouldn’t see much of you those few days. They didn’t pry or have any context and blindly accepted Horus’ orders, before he left some of his men on Terra and boarded The Vengeful Spirit satisfied.

"Will Lady Lupercal be alright on Terra?"

Tarik is the only member of the Mournival currently at the holotable, looking at his primarch with a typical astartes neutral expression. Horus' attachment to you has seemed to spread to them in some odd way, as if his geneseed did more than just alter their appearance; That they share a little bit of his emotions as well.

"I made sure she has everything she needs, she'll be fine."

Tarik gives an unimpressed hum. Horus raises his eyebrows and looks at the man curiously.

"You don't agree with my choice?" Tarik shakes his head, adjusting his jaw with a soft crack.

“The choice was not mine to make.”

Horus laughs. He can hear the discontent in his son's voice quite easily.

“She will be fine. I am sure we’ll have a letter from her soon enough.”

Returning back to the topic at hand Horus slots the memory of the previous night firmly in the back of his mind, where he could return to it later. These crusades always try his patience, so it'll be something to keep with him in those frustrating moments. To keep in mind what he has waiting for him.

He eagerly awaits for that letter; Hoping for it's content to show if all of his hopes and effort finally paid off.

[harmoonix]

🌇Sunset-hour Astrology Observations🌇

❂❂❂❂❂❂❂❂❂❂❂❂❂❂

🌇- Capricorn or Aquarius in big 3 (Sun,Moon or Rising) is already a confirmed karmic placement to have, the hard thing to know is that karmic debts can be different from person to person, but for sure they are here to end/complete something karmic

🌇 Lilith in Aries/Aquarius/Capricorn really don't like to receive orders from others or just don't like others to tell them what to do

🌇 Lilith in Virgo/Cancer share a common energy and that is the "submissive" energy, they can act submissive and seductive, that tends to attract a lot of people (aswell very toxic people or just dominant people in their lives)

🌇 Neptune trine/sextile/conjunct ascendant can have sensbile skin, their skin can get irritated fast or just having a very soft skin

🌇 Sun - Pluto aspects can have a pretty rebellious energy in them, usually they act how they want when they want and to be pretty moody

🌇 Libra/Taurus in big 3 (Sun, Moon or Rising) and their aesthetic eye for everything around them is admirable, literally they can see some clouds on the sky and think at some aesthetic photos to do

🌇 Leo/Sagittarius in Big 3 (Sun, Moon or Rising + Venus in some cases) can really photogenic like girlll go thattt photossss, the pose, the look, the clothes they wear are always on everyone's look

🌇 Mars in aspects with Jupiter just have uncontrollable feelings when they wanna get dirty. Like is something they cannot control

🌇 Neptune - Venus aspects are too sweet, they often can get so hurt esp in relationships, they don't deserve it to be honest, but sometimes these aspects can create fake illusions about their partners which can lead to so many wrong things

🌇 Venus in the 10th/11th or 7th house love to be complimented, or just spoiled with sweet words by the people around them. They also like to have certain unique nicknames in some cases (Like your friends giving you a funny nickname)

🌇 Uranus in Pisces Generation [2003 - 2010] can invest their time a lot on spirituality/meditation/healing etc, maybe being interested in tarot or special reiki song for healings

🌇 Sun in the 12th house should embrace their spirituality side more, this is an very spiritual placement so try to connect with spirituality it cam help you so much

🌇 There is always a ride or die with Scorpio or Gemini/Aquarius placements, they love to get into challenges, compete and show their intelligence, you are with them or against them

🌇 Sun in the 11th house are actually the people who can listen to their friends stories all the long, these people loveee to spend time around their friends so much and their love for their friends is something else..is something precious to them

🌇 Venus in the 11th house can met their partners in their circle of friends actually??? When a friend told me this one day I was in shock I was like ":0" this cannot happen, just imagine friends to lovers kind of thing, though is very lovely

🌇 Checking someone's chart and seeing that they have Scorpio, Sagittarius or Capricorn placements I just know they are either very revengeful either waiting for the perfect moment to call the wrong people for their mistakes

🌇 Mars in Virgo degrees [6°,18°] can have a good looking waist/body. They can also be slim or jus tall body and usually the waist shines more for them (This may not apply to everyone but I said based on what I heard about Mars in these degrees)

🌇 Mars in Pisces Degrees [12°, 24°] can have pretty good looking hands/nails, very soft or very prominent veins on the hands (esp at men), and the nails can look pretty naturally + people having the impression you always have nail polish

🌇 Mars in Aquarius Degrees [11°, 23°] can have beautiful bone structure esp at legs and hands, (based on my experience most of these people are tall with a very pereftctioned body] Their body loos so good in general

🌇 Sagittarius Mercury or Mercury in Sagittarius degrees [9°, 21°] can be brutally honest. These people don't like to lie or keep hiding so instead they will call out and be honest about everything

🌇 Scorpio and Taurus Moons and their posesive abilities to be posesive and getting jealous fast over small things is insane, esp having a partner with such moon sign can be possessive and sometimes trying to be in control

🌇 Virgo Suns/Moons can end up criticizing themselves a lot of just judging themselves over things they cannot control or just delete over the time. You have to understand certain things happen for certain reasons and the past cannot be deleted but instead try to create a better future for yourself with a good start and positive vibes

❂❂❂❂❂❂❂❂❂❂❂❂❂❂

🌇🌇🌇🌇🌇🌇🌇🌇🌇🌇🌇🌇🌇🌇🌇🌇🌇

- Wanted to post this post right on time exactly when the golden hour starts to be seen more prominent on the sky, because is also the time when the sun sets for the sun and sooner let the beautiful moon to rule the sky for the next hours

❤️☀️❤️☀️❤️☀️❤️☀️❤️☀️❤️☀️❤️☀️❤️☀️❤️☀️

☀️ Hope everyone reading my notes has an evening/night 🌆☀️ full of warm energy, and watch the sunset if you can 🥰🥰 in my opinion is majestic and one of the most beautiful things on earth ☀️🌆☀️

[amostimprobabledream]

Bleach Characters Who Are Into Choking

Loosen your grip before I choke~ (Warning for some mild dubcon in the last one.)

Yumichika Ayasegawa

This may be surprising, but Yumichika finds something terribly aesthetic about choking. The eroticism of it, the glassy sheen in your eyes, the way his delicate hands look wrapped around your neck…

Unlike other examples on this list, there's no danger of passing out or Yumichika getting overexcited and forgetting his own strength. He's a passionate lover but he doesn't like to cause too much pain or discomfort, even if you're enthusiastically egging him on - a little neck squeezing is mostly all you're going to get.

He likes being choked too, he makes sure to do it prettily, throwing his head back to present the graceful arch of his throat to you, gasping thetrically and making a show of himself. Plus if you bruise him up, it gives him an excellent excuse to wear one of his many cute scarves! <3

Grimmjow Jeagerjaquez

This shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone - Grimmjow is rough, aggressive and dominant and that's only refocused and enchanced in the bedroom. He doesn't think kinks are something that needs to be hidden or danced around - if he feels like squeezing that pretty little neck, he'll do it. It's actually one of his go-to moves he likes to do, so you can expect choking to be a regular occurrence unless you make it crystal clear to him it's off the table.

He fucking loves it, loves the fluttering of your pulse against his fingers, the little gasps, the way your body writhes helplessly beneath him…

It sends his predator instincts into overdrive. He normally has excellent control over his strength but he really has to remind himself not to put too much pressure on your delicate little windpipe. He likes to tease you with it too - like a cat will bat around a mouse and then watch it while it's stunned, he'll pin you down by the neck and tighten and loosen his grip over and over, watching you splutter for air whenever he gives you a reprieve.

Cirucci Sanderwicci

Just look at her, you know this girl is into BDSM and kinks that fall under that umbrella. She differs a little in how she likes to choke you though - she puts that whip of her to good use. Especially if you're bigger than her, she doesn't want to worry about her smaller hands not being up to the job. Also she likely just got her nails done!

She's got very good command of her whip and using it like a leash just feeds into her ego. Seeing any marks on your throat afterwards gives her an extra arousal boost and you might notice her fidgeting in place as she observes you.

Though she's got a sadistic streak a mile wide, Cirucci is also up for being dominated. She won't ask that you choke her, but if you surprise her with it then she'll gasp and arch her back. It's a little difficult for her to let her guard down and be submissive but once she does it's quite a rush. She looks good with a hand around her neck too, her lips parted as she struggles for breath. Don't go easy on her or she'll get offended you think she can't take it.

Gin Ichimaru

Of course this bastard-coated bastard likes to choke you out. Those long fingers of his practically beg to grip your neck - they fit so naturally well you'd think he was created with that very intention in mind. He likes to take his time with it too, slowly increasing the pressure over time until you've got black spots dancing in your vision.

He likes to bring you just to the edge of unconsciousness before he equally slowly relinquishes his grip, likes watching the lucidity return to your eyes like you're waking up from a dream. His favourite move is choking you just as you're about to come, watching you gasp in his hold as your orgasm crashes into you as you adjust to the lack of oxygen. When he first did it you thought you were going to implode.

Don't bother trying to cover up the marks on your neck either - Gin takes pride in the proof of the act. If you're wearing a scarf he'll kiss your neck and tug it off while you're distracted, or lick away concealer. He's such a shit.

Kenpachi Zaraki

Kenpachi's whole hand can wrap around the entirety of your neck, it's inevitable that he can't resist giving a little squeeze. He prefers to do it in little sharp bursts - prolonged choking can get a little boring, since holding you still with just his hand is child's play. Instead he'll simply press down without telling you when, and for a brief second it's like all the air has vanished, before it's abruptly back again. He especially likes to do this when you're riding him.

He knows how strong he is, though, so he's slightly more inclined to be careful. Snapping your neck mid-fuck would be a bit of a buzzkill. He'll massage your throat afterwards with his long, powerful fingers.

If you want to choke him, he'll laugh at you and tell you to go ahead! You have to wrap two hands around his throat and act like you're throttling him to get your money back for him to feel much of anything. He loves it, the look of concentration on your face, the feel of your nails digging into his skin. He'll egg you on, too. "Yeah? You wanna choke me out? That the best you got, baby?"

Nnoitra Gilga

You are a brave, possibly stupid, soul if you want the praying mantis to choke you. Nnoitra's hands are just as spindly as the rest of him, but he's got some freakish strength that belies his frame. He will slam you against the wall and crush your windpipe until you black out.

Another one who does it instinctively and he'll laugh at you if you beg him to stop or slow down. He doesn't really do gentle, so he doesn't know why you think this would be any different. He especially likes fucking you while you're semi or outright unconscious - you waking up to his cock rutting in and out of you gives him a thrill, like even oblivion won't spare you from his lust.

Likes to trace his fingerprints on your neck and smirks at your bloodshot eyes. Choking him back is very difficult to do with his hierro, but you could still repay the favour by trying to smother him while he's sleeping. He'll make you pay, but it will be worth it. Hollow Ichigo

Now, Ichigo doesn't really go in for choking. He prefers to be sweet to you during the nasty, even if he will get rougher as he gets more excited, so he'd be very hesitant to choke you.

But THIS motherfucker right here? He LOVES it. Lives for it. He could get himself off solely by pinning you down by the throat and watching your hands scrabbling at him, eyes widening and your feet kicking. He loves it. Loves making you so helpless and cute beneath your king~

He likes to press the pad of his thumb against a certain dip in your throat, leaving a little circular bruise right in the centre where it's hard to cover up. He loves the thought of you washing your face and catching a glimpse of it in the mirror, knowing it's a seal, a promise of a repeat performance.