#it's weird beautiful ethereal and heavy

[eelhound]

who made you like this?

who encrypted your dark gospel in body language?

synapses snap back in blissful anguish

[zaldritzosrose]

Carpe Noctem (Modern Goth!Aemond x Goth!Reader)

Summary: Aemond enjoyed the darker side of life; the morbid, the macabre. He reflected his outside with how he looked on the inside, ignoring the unusual stares he would get from passersby. His world revolved around it, losing himself in dark and fantastical worlds...and then he met you. His real life gothic heroine.

CW: MINORS DNI, afab reader, she/her pronouns, gothic coded reader, gothic Aemond, dark/morbid fantasies, outdoor sex, graveyard sex, mild exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, phone sex, innuendo, profanity, (yes this is probably my truest self insert, sue me), Aemond wishes he could live in a gothic novel.

Words: 4535

Surprise I posted earlier than expected!

Happy Spooky Season! This is my second fic submission to our Fan Frankentober Event (masterlist will be found here) in collab with a few lovely moots! Head over to @fandomeventcenter for more info!

There was a darkness in Aemond. A darkness that had been left unconsidered and unloved until he had met you.

Aemond was a lover of all things macabre and morbid. It had started when he and his family had moved houses, living just a short walk from a cemetery. Horror stories had always fascinated him. Tales told to scare around a campfire or in a darkened room. Stories meant to get the heart racing and the hairs to stand tall on the neck.

The older he got, the deeper he delved. Collections of stories, ranging from the well-known classics to lesser-known fables, lined the walls of his room.

His interests soon followed. His music reflected his darker curiosities, from haunting musical classics to heavier, grungier sounds of heavy metal and gothic rock. And his clothing choices followed not long after, modelling himself after his favourite artists and horror icons. Even covering his injured eye – a mishap in his childhood – with a bespoke leather eyepatch.

Aemond lived his life by the darkness he always felt within.

You had always felt a little outcasted, though some of it was self-inflicted. You preferred solitude, with the only company being the fantastical beings within the pages of your favourite books.

Your love of art and photography helped you channel the morbidity within into something beautiful. Wandering around derelict buildings and darkened graveyards. Styling your images after the scenes in your novels.

Holding an affinity for the tragic heroines and broken damsels in your books, you began to create art of yourself. Posing for timer taken photos in intricate costumes. Collating the photos and creating your very own spooky, fantastical online presence.

That’s where he found you. He had joined the site to follow his favourite authors, artists and musicians. Simply to immerse himself further into the world he enjoyed.

He had been scrolling through posts, mindlessly passing time while his siblings bickered about something or other. And there you were.

It was like you had been pulled from one of the novels on his shelf. The layers of lace that draped over your body, the red as deep as freshly spilled blood. Makeup dark and deathly. Before Aemond knew it, he’d opened your page. Trawling through photo after photo, slowly getting lost in the dark, ethereal draw you seemed to hold.

After weeks of keeping himself updated with your posts, he decided he had to know you. No matter what happened, he had to try.

Tentatively, he opened his messages and, inspired by your ‘Spooky Season’ posts most recently, he chose one of his favoured quotes from Bram Stoker’s Dracula.

“I have crossed oceans of times to find you…your work is beautiful, almost as beautiful as you.”

Aemond could feel his heart beating hard enough he feared it might burst from his chest. Was that too weird? Was he too forward? Would you find him creepy?

There wasn’t much he could do now; the message was out there and deleting it would be even more suspicious.

So, he waited.

Your phone dinged and the message notification surprised you. A message from the username ‘truetooneanother’. You instinctively checked the profile first; it wouldn’t be the first time a stranger had messaged you in response to a photoshoot. Most were harmless, but you were always cautious.

A quick scroll showed almost exactly what you expected from a Frankenstein inspired username. Aesthetic pleasing images of books, his cat, shots out music gigs and records. Even a mix of beautiful photographs of what you guess was where he lived – perfectly framed images of graveyards, lakes, and some of the most gorgeous gothic architecture you had ever laid your eyes on.

But what you wanted, was a picture of whoever this stranger with classic horror knowledge was. And some deeper scrolling came up with your prize. One of few shots of your mystery messenger. A posed photo lit by what you guess was a fireplace or candles. The profile of his face was in main focus, and you were sure you could see what looked like an eyepatch, maybe?

A couple more scrolls and you found a full image of his face and you could have sworn your jaw dropped just a little. There was just something about him that had you intrigued.

Immediately, you reopened his message.

“That’s very kind of you, and how did you manage to choose one of my favourite literary quotes?”

You hit send and waited. Soon, you could see that he had read your message. You were surprised that you felt a flutter of nervousness in your stomach. You had never been like this over a stranger online before. But when your phone pinged again to say he’d sent a message, you were chewing your lip in excitement.

“Because it is my favourite, I can’t count how many times I’ve read Dracula. And your last post inspired it, you looked like you’d fallen from one of its pages.”

You could feel the blush on your cheeks. No one had ever spoken to you that way. Complimenting you without making you feel uncomfortable. Most comments or direct messages were failed attempts at flirting, sexual innuendo or just downright creepiness.

This time it felt different.

“Classic horror is one of my greatest inspirations, everything in those books is pure darkness and fantasy…making it real is a passion. Can I ask your name?”

There was something about the words he chose, the way he wrote his messages that gave you butterflies. How could you be so fascinated about someone you didn’t know?

“Aemond. May I ask yours?”

“Then you manage it perfectly, it suits you.”

Those two messages only made you blush deepen. Why was he having such an effect on you?

You gave him your name, feeling the heat radiating of your cheeks as he continued to compliment you – almost poetically.

You and Aemond continued to talk, moving your messaging from you social media to giving out your phone number. Those messages soon turned to phone calls, his voice bordering on hypnotic. You could barely get enough.

His phone calls were as poetic as his messages. The gentle timbre to his voice would sink into your mind and settle there.

A few more weeks and those phone calls became video chats. Hours spent talking about books, music, films. Where your favourite places were to photograph – for you it was where to set your shoots, for Aemond it was the places he wanted to create art from.

It wasn’t long before things turned a little more…x rated.

Behind the scenes pictures of your photography outings, showing off the variety of corsets, barely there lace dresses you would don for your ideas.

This was how you’d found out Aemond also enjoyed fencing. It was both expected and unexpected. When you’d learned his surname, you realised he came from a pretty well known Westerosi family, so higher class pursuits weren’t too far out of the question.

But the picture he had sent this morning, post training but pre-shower…

It had set your whole body on fire. Silver hair let loose and hanging over his shoulders. Clad only in his white fencing trousers and no shirt. Pale skin, lean torso on show. And his caption had waves of arousal coursing through your body.

He was beautiful. Like a dark character from one of your fantasy novels. It took you a moment to formulate a reply, and what you gave was far from your usual ability.

“Are you trying to kill me off?

You’d ended your message with a couple of emojis, the hot face emoji and the winking face. It wouldn’t be the first time you and Aemond had shared more racy messages, but this had been the first time he’d sent a photo like that.

And your heart was in your throat, desire wet between your thighs when you saw him typing.

“I would never, but nice to know you find me that attractive… you could see this in person if you wanted?”

“Fuck…” you muttered aloud, staring at the screen in disbelief.

A cheeky thought entered your mind. A picture for a picture was only fair, right?

You made sure the angle was perfect, showing off the shape of your body, your hand tucked seductively between your thighs. Your shirt bunched up to show a little skin. You added only a few dirty emojis and one word.

“When?”

Aemond almost dropped his phone when you sent that message back. Between the photo and your message, his skin felt hot, the crotch of his trousers getting tighter the longer he looked at it.

Fuck, you were stunning. Seduction and sensuality personified. His hand was tucked into the waistband of his trousers before he could stop himself. His other frantically messaging you back.

“Next week? You have that graveyard shoot planned right?”

Aemond’s hand shook as he typed. He needed release and he needed you.

“You have no idea what you do to me…I crave you…you have witchcraft on your lips.”

You fingers were like lightning as you replied, your own hand still nestled between your thighs. Part of you wanted to call him, hear his voice talking you through the desire that was thick in your veins. Your fingers dipped beneath your underwear, the ones holding your phone hovering over the call symbol.

And then the phone rang. Aemond’s name flashing on your screen. You barely even said ‘hello’, your voice soft as you dropped back onto your bed.

“Talk to me, please just talk to me…”

Aemond let out a soft chuckle, ending in a groan as his hand settled entirely into his trousers.

“Do you need me, sweet girl? Did my bare chest turn you on that much?” his voice was in that tone you adored.

Low and soft, almost a whisper. It sent a shiver down your spine in the most delicious of ways, settling deep within your core.

“You have no idea. Now I know what you hide under all that black and leather.”

Aemond only hummed in response, the rustling of material telling you exactly what he was doing. But you wanted to hear his voice. The soft sound of his breath told you he was as aroused as you were. Sometimes, the simplest things were enough to get the two of you going.

“Oh, darling, I hide a lot more than that. How badly do you need me?”

The tone, the implication behind his words had you sighing softly, fingers toying with your pearl. Circling softly at just the thought of what the rest of him might look like. You tried to calm yourself, to muster some of the darker more erotic poetry you had read on his recommendation.

“I…oh...I want your lust to tear the flesh of my bones, fuck…and leave me ravaged…”

Aemond felt his good eye roll into the back of his head. Having you read that poetry was one thing, but hearing it fall from your lips and mixed with sounds of pleasure. He could have come there and then.

“And ravage you I will, my darling…”

He could hear the movement of your hand against your body, the faintest sounds of your slickened fingers pushing you closer and closer to orgasm. His own hand working himself furiously at just the thought of having you beneath him, moaning his name. He laid himself entirely back on his bed, his phone on his chest as his hips began to rut up into his hand.

“I’d like to taste you in ways my tongue dare not speak…”

That was all it took to have you softly sighing his name down the phone, your release coming like waves over your body. Aemond followed soon after, rough grunts matching the rhythm of his hand.

Both of you panted as you calmed, the silence falling comfortably until Aemond spoke.

“I can’t wait to meet you.”

The day had come. Months of messages, calls, video chats had all led to this. You were going to see him in the flesh. And he was going to see you.

You had both agreed to meet just as you finished your planned Halloween shoot – a bit on the nose admittedly but you had chosen a graveyard near your hometown with your favourite horror heroines as your style inspiration. Ranging from classics like the Bride of Frankenstein to newer icons such as Morticia Addams. Simply, the shoot was entirely self-indulgent for you.

You knew you wouldn’t miss him. A few friends had come to help you out, setting up the camera, getting changed into another costume and all that. But other than that, the graveyard was relatively quiet.

Your focus remained on the shoot. Remembering your poses, the props, what you envisioned for the final images. But you could see the silver hair in the distance, contrasted against the entirely black palette of his outfit. Aemond kept his distance, leaning against a headstone as he waited patiently for you to be done.

The shoot was done, you had changed into what could only be described as a more casual combination of the costumes from the shoot. A flowy black dress, paired with Victorian inspired boots and a lacy black shawl you’d had since you could remember.

You could see Aemond walking towards you, your friends having long packed up and dispersed – most of them knowing what you had planned afterwards. Nerves set in your stomach.

What if he didn’t like you? What if, despite seeing you through the screen, he was no longer interested?

But all of that disappeared the second he stood in front of you. His long, lean form clad head to toe in layers of black. From the thick wool of his coat to the silken fabric of his shirt and the leather of his boots. That eyepatch laid perfectly over his eye – you had asked what happened and despite being a little unwilling, Aemond explained he’d injured it as a child but said no more. It was almost as though he enjoyed being mysterious.

“Aemond…” you smiled, moving to slip down from your perch on a stone wall.

Your smile only widened when Aemond held out his hand, offering his assistance to help you down. And you took it gladly, letting his fingers wrap around yours without hesitation.

Aemond kept hold of it, toying softly with one of the rings you wore.

“That shoot was truly a sight to behold,” Aemond whispered, his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

He knew what it did to you, you knew he did. You were sure that he would choose that tone purposefully in calls to rile you up. And you loved it.

“So, you liked it? Horror Queens wasn’t too obvious for Halloween?”

Aemond laughed, and you let him lead you to a little clearing in the gravestones. Everything felt comfortable, his hand holding yours, the feel of him stood next to you. It just felt right.

“You were perfect, as always. Even now it’s as though you’ve stepped from, dare I say, one of Shelley or Stoker’s pages.”

You squeezed his hand in response, not knowing how to respond to such a compliment. But you were struck even more silent when you saw where he was leading you.

A large blanket was stretched out on the ground, perfectly placed between a group of headstones. A small gift, wrapped in black and red paper and finished with a velvet bow sat beside a hamper filled with food. More specifically, your favourite foods.

“Well, aren’t you a romantic?”

You sat down on the blanket, stretching your legs out in front of you as Aemond sat at your side. His arm instinctively wrapped around your waist. It was like you’d been beside each other for the longest time, everything felt so natural.

“A romantic? I am simply a man who wishes let you know how important you are.”

Aemond felt a need to restrain himself a little. Part of him wanted to spout all of the poetry and stories that wandered around his mind, to declare his love for you.

But he had just met you, in the literal sense. And he’d be damned if he scared you off now.

You, however, liked that about him. How open he was with how he felt. How he wasn’t afraid to give in to every emotion he felt.

“So, tell me. Don’t you know how much I enjoy your poetry?” you said it almost shyly, feeling Aemond’s arm tighten around your waist.

Aemond felt he could have melted there and then. But at the same time, the idea you enjoyed his words so much set a fire in his veins that he didn’t expect.

“Then you will very much like your gift, my darling.”

He leaned away, tugging the neatly wrapped gift towards him. Part of you felt guilty, you hadn’t bought him anything. But at the same time, you knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t mind.

His fingers brushed yours as you took the present from his grasp. As carefully as possible, you tugged at the ribbon and unwrapped it. They felt like books which didn’t surprise you at all, from Aemond. But what they truly were would surprise you.

Two beautifully bound notebooks, in black with shades of purple and red. Your breath caught in your throat as you opened the first one.

Pages upon pages of both of your favourite quotes, lines from poetry. You were already overwhelmed by the time you opened the second.

Handwritten versions of the poetry Aemond himself had sent you. The lines he had written to express his feelings towards you now preserved in his equally beautiful handwriting.

“Aemond…this is…”

You simply couldn’t find the words. So, you did the one thing you felt could express what you were feeling. You kissed him.

You almost threw yourself at him, the books discarded at the side as Aemond scrambled to catch you. Arms wrapping immediately around your waist and holding your body to his. Your legs straddled his waist, and you poured every ounce of affection and desire into your kiss.

Soon, Aemond reciprocated. Sliding a hand into your hair as his other gripped at your thigh.

He’d imagined everything about what kissing you would be like. How your lips would feel, how you would taste and how your body would feel beneath his hands.

The reality was more than he could ever imagine. And he wasn’t about to waste a single second.

Your own hands roamed over his body, gripping the soft, silk of his shirt while the other began to push the coat from his shoulders. You didn’t care that you were outside, there was no one here anyway.

All you needed was him.

Aemond shrugged his coat from his shoulders. The moment the fabric slid from his body, he moved to lay you on your back. The picnic could wait. You were the only meal he wished to devour.

Your dress bunched around your waist. Aemond slipped easily between your legs, and you could feel just how much he was enjoying the kiss. The swollen length of him pressing against you with only his jeans as a barrier.

His hips instinctively began to roll against yours, the hand on your thigh pulling your leg up to wrap around his slim waist. His lips began to trail down your neck and your head tilted back to let him continue his path.

Your breath came out in soft pants, your hand tangling into his hair as his lips settled on the exposed skin of your chest. Just as the first moan left your lips, Aemond pulled back.

His eye found yours, the blue entirely eclipsed by his pupil. Pure lust settled in his gaze.

“Shall I ravage you as I promised, my love?” Aemond leaned down, teeth nibbling at your ear lobe as he spoke.

You pushed your hips up against his in response. Words were failing you, but you could see in the look he gave you that he wanted your words.

“Please, Aemond, please…”

Your voice was embarrassingly whiny, need dripping from every syllable. And his response was immediate, latching his lips back onto your neck with a little more force this time.

“Whatever my love wishes, she will have. Your pleasure will know no bounds…”

His words were muffled as he buried his face into the swell of your chest, but what he said didn’t really matter anymore. All you both needed know was the touch of the other.

Your eyes rolled back as he continued his descent down your body. Pushing your dress higher as he reached your core. Your hand tangled tight in his hair, the pain only spurring Aemond on.

This was like a dream. The softness of your skin, the scent of your arousal as he licked a stripe over your clothed cunt. Aemond wished to commit every second to his memory.

He draped your legs over his shoulders, feeling you shift to rest on your elbows. The idea of you watching him had a heat licking up Aemond’s spine in the most delicious way.

Slim fingers tugged your underwear down your legs, a smirk thrown your way as he tucked them into his jeans.

“A souvenir?” you asked, chewing on your lip in anticipation as the cool air hit your slick folds.

Aemond didn’t answer, head dipping back down and settling between your thighs. His breath hot against your skin, sending goosebumps over the flesh of your thighs.

The moan you let out as his tongue licked over your core was almost sinful. Echoing through the empty graveyard as your head dropped back in pleasure. The sound only spurred Aemond on, now lapping at your folds as if he was a man starved.

“Delicious, so fucking delicious…” he almost growled the words into your body, sending vibrations through you that only heightened your desire for him.

His lips latched onto your pearl, suckling it between them and relishing the high-pitched keen that fell from your lips in return. He could already feel your thighs tightening around his head and Aemond was desperate to taste you on his tongue.

Your hand tightened to the point of pain in his hair, nails scratching against his scalp in a way that had him moaning into your cunt. He was rewarded with a fresh gush of slick over his tongue. Your fleshy walls pulsing around his tongue as he delved back in.

His name was like a prayer on your lips, chanting it over and over again as you felt the knot in your stomach tightening.

“Come for me, my beautiful creature…” Aemond grunted out the command as you tugged his face harder against your body, rolling your hips against his face.

Everything had sparks of pleasure biting at your body. His tongue licking at your walls, the slope of his nose rubbing against your clit in the most perfect way, his grip on your thighs almost painful.

You came with a scream of his name, a final pull on his hair earning you a hiss of pain but Aemond didn’t relent. He lapped up everything you gave him until you had to wriggle away from overstimulation.

“Fuck…” your voice was barely more than a whisper as you pulled Aemond back up your body.

Your skin was flushed, your cunt still pulsing as your high slowly left you. But Aemond’s hardened cock pressing against your damp core reminded you that he still needed to be taken care of.

And Aemond could see the look of mischief in your eyes. Your hips canting up to press your soaked core against him.

“Insatiable, hmm? Do you wish me to take you here, among the dead?”

You pressed your lips to his, sliding a hand between you to palm at the thick bulge in his jeans.

“I would let you take me anywhere; I am desperate for you…”

Your teeth tugged at his lip, his eye rolling back in his head.

“Besides, you did say you would ravage me.”

You punctuated your words with a squeeze of his cock, rubbing your palm down the length of it as he dropped his head to your neck. A few more touches had his cock twitching beneath your palm. Your fingers made quick work of his belt and zipper. Aemond came back to his senses just enough to push his jeans and underwear down just enough to free himself.

He immediately lined himself up with your entrance, slowly pushing inside. The head of his cock stretching your walls in a way that had your sighing out his name.

The day had gotten darker, but it only made the whole experience more perfect. The sun beginning to set just as Aemond began to thrust into you, the orange glow illuminating him from behind. His silver hair painted gold and his skin almost glowing.

“Yes, oh, yes…”

Your moans were the only sound Aemond ever wished to hear. His name had never sounded more beautiful that when it fell from your lips in pleasure.

His hands tangled with yours as he held them high above your head. His thrusts slow but punishing, feeling like he was filling every inch of your core.

“You are everything I need, my darling. A dream come true, a dream I never wish to wake from…”

Aemond’s words were answered with your mewls and moans, your heels in the small of his back spurring him on. His rhythm sped up in response, all but pounding into you with abandon.

You were both now solely chasing your pleasure. The only sound aside from your joined moans was the rustle of leaves and the faint cawing of birds.

Aemond’s lips locked with yours as he felt your walls clench around him. Pleasure overtook you and he drank down every one of your cries as his own release was milked from his cock with every twitch and pulse of your cunt.

His movements slowed, but he wasn’t ready to pull from your body just yet. He released your hands, resting his head against your chest. Your hands found his hair and back, calmly stroking as you both relaxed.

Neither of you knew what to say, but you both felt it. A calmness, a connection that tugged at both your hearts.

Aemond had known you were meant for him from the moment he had seen that first photo. But you, you believed it now. No one had made you feel as he did for the longest time.

It wasn’t love; it was more. Something darker, deeper.

You felt empty as Aemond pulled out of you, finding something to clean you up with. But it wasn’t before you were wrapped in his embrace again.

“I’m so happy I met you,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“Though I fear I cannot be without you now.”

Aemond pulled away, tilting your face up to his.

“Darling, you’re already in my veins.”

The kiss he pressed to your lips was filled with nothing but love and promise. Promise of a darker, deeper love that you had only ever read about.

A love you would now get to experience.

Aemond Taglist:

@legitalicat @anjelicawrites @sylasthegrim @aemondsbabe

@aemondsbabygirl @blissfulphilospher @elaratyrell @multyfangirl

@thenameswinter99 @tumblin-theworldaway @kaelatargaryen

@hoosbandewan @thought--bubble @mysticalendings

@towriteloveontheirarms @arcielee

[danikamariewrites]

Sixth Sense

Azriel x Reader

A/n: Azriel is my favorite bat boy. Like gosh I just love him and he deserves love. I can’t wait for his book fr I need his thoughts and for him to say more than 5 words. I also love exploring the soft side of Az it’s just so cute. My requests are open so feel free to drop anything in there acotar, tog, or cc ❤️

Warnings: none just fluff

“Oh he so does not!” You say not totally convincing yourself.

Sitting at the kitchen island, Nesta rolls her eyes, next to her Feyre tries to hide her laugh behind her hand. “Come on, don’t lie to yourself. Azriel has a weird sixth sense for you.”

You and Azriel have only been dating for a year. It took a lot for him to introduce you to his family. He was afraid to share you, especially since he’d been on a little bit of a protective streak lately.

Feyre and Nesta have picked up on his over protectiveness and now Nesta is teasing you about his new found sense for you. “Ok let’s test it then. The bats are up in Rhysands office, we’ll hide and you call out for Azriel but only once. If he comes running within 5 seconds then I’m right.”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you put your hands on your hips glaring at Nesta. “Ok, you’re on.”

“Yes! Ok Feyre, let’s go.” The sisters rush over to hide in the walk-in pantry waiting to be proven right.

You knew they were right. Azriel always had a weird way of knowing if you needed help, were upset, or just craved being near him. It was nice, being looked out for by the person you loved most in the whole world. And you don’t mind his over protective nature, you know why he’s like that. Azriel is just scared to lose you, you’re the most precious thing in the world to him.

As much as you don’t want Nesta to be right you do want to test her theory. Besides, it’s been hours since you’ve last seen Azriel’s pretty face and you miss him.

Opening the mug cabinet by the stove you climb up to kneel on the counter, making it look like you were trying to reach his favorite one. Taking a deep breath you yell, “Azriel!”

Silence. You strain your ears, sure Nesta and Feyre were doing the same from their hiding spot in the pantry. Milliseconds later you hear a door from upstairs fly open, heavy footsteps, and then there he is.

His beautiful, short black hair looks so soft you want to run your fingers through it. His tall figure takes up almost the whole doorway. The flecks of red and gold on his wings catch in the fae lights making them look ethereal. His gorgeous hazel eyes are focused on you like you’re the only person in the whole world. Wait, is that panic in his eyes? And face?

You finally notice you’re smiling at him like a love sick idiot as he clears the room in a few strides. He wraps his arms around your waist. “What’s wrong my love? Are you hurt?” Placing your hands on his chest you give him a soft, loving smile dipping your head. You almost feel bad for interrupting his meeting.

“Can you get that mug for me?” Azriel sighs, smiling while lifting you off the counter. He reaches up to the top shelf still keeping one arm around your waist. Azriel hands you the mug, kissing your forehead.

“Is that all you needed me for my love?” Azriel cradles your face stroking your cheek with his thumb. Still smiling up at him like a love sick idiot you nod. “Sorry, I know you were in a meeting with Cass and Rhys. But I also just wanted to see you.”

“No need to apologize my love, I’ll always come when you call for me.” You swoon feeling yourself fall in love with the male in front of you all over again. “I love you Az.” Standing on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck, your lips meet his in a soft kiss. You feel him smile against your lips and he reluctantly pulls away.

Azriels hands hold your waist, “I have to go back upstairs, but we should be done soon and then I’m all yours.”

“And we can read together?” He nods, “Yes my love.”

“And you’ll let me lay on your chest? And play with my hair?”

Azriel lets out one of those rare soft laughs, “Yes my love, we’ll do all your favorite things.” He lets go of you and gives your forehead one last kiss before turning and walking out of the kitchen back to Rhys’ office.

Still smiling like the lovesick fool you are, Nesta and Feyre come out of the pantry startling you. “Gods! I forgot you two were still here.” You clutch at your chest trying to calm your heart rate.

Feyre is looking at you with the biggest smile and Nesta is smirking. “Soooo…my theory?” Nesta says with an air of cockiness.

“Fine you’re right. But I love it.” You sigh looking back at the entrance to the kitchen counting down the minutes until his meeting is over.

[riaki]

a spritz of peppermint | megumi fushiguro x reader

pt.6 of christmas event! cw: petnames i think idk, not proofread, there’s probably other stuff i’m missing but wtv happy birthday the prettiest king pls come back the food is cold

today is a very special day.

megumi notices that you rise early— mostly because when he wakes up in the morning, rubbing his sleep-heavy eyes groggily with a groan, he notices you’re not there. he rolls over, and smacks his face into cold sheets, devoid of your heat.

it pisses him off. so he starts his special day out as a grouch.

when he eventually crawls out of bed and makes his way into the kitchen after pulling on some sweats, though— he stops just short of the threshold to that sweet smelling cozy haven you love to spend your time in. the scent of pine needles and fresh chocolate orange wafts across the space, warm and welcoming and awfully wintery. he’s impartial to the cold— but he likes seeing your nose get red, so he guesses that’s one point positive.

“megumi?” your soft voice drifts across the open space, and the frost around his grumpy heart melts just a little; a crack in the frozen surface of the lake.

he reluctantly emerges from the shadow of the hallway, past the bundle of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. the thought causes a memory to flash across his mind— your sweet smile and your prettier laugh; a distinct feeling of fuzzy warmth like a knitted sweater spreading across his cheeks when you pulled him close by the sleeve of his shirt and leaned in—

he shakes his head, trying to dash the stray thought. he’s supposed to be mad. it has no right to be there.

“why’d you get up so early?” he sighs heavily as he joins you at your side, scratching the back of his neck and running a hand through his unruly hair. you smiled sheepishly, turning to face him and you wrap your arms around his middle, squeezing lightly as a silent apology. he takes it with a grumble, snaking his arms around your waist and resting his face in your hair to bask in the scent of home before pulling away.

“it’s a secret.” you grinned, and he glares down at you, clicking his teeth in annoyance. you just laugh like the angel you are, leaving no room for guilt. you’re wearing one of his sweaters; you smell like him, and he supposes it makes up for the way you ditched him this morning.

“i expect compensation.” he grumbles, leaning against the counter as he watches you move about the kitchen, pale winter sunlight painting you like an ethereal dancer beneath the surface of misty lake water, crystal clear in your beauty. it’s mesmerizing.

you laughed, and his teeth dig into his bottom lip. “what, missed me? were you feeling lonely, gumi?” you smiled.

he just shoots you a piercing glare, the color of icicles in his eyes, but the warmth of your grin melts it away. you spend the next few moments in a comfortable silence, preparing a french toast topped with sweet berries and powdered sugar that looks so soft megumi could probably sink into it, until your lovely voice breaks the crisp morning silence.

“want black coffee?”

…

that’s weird. he never hesitates. and you know he takes his coffee black; of course you do. not because he wants to look cool, or look suave in another person’s eyes… well, except for you, of course. but not in the area of caffeine doses. and to be perfectly clear, all he needs is a dose of you to get him going.

he clears his throat. “can you make me hot chocolate?”

you pause, and he almost wants to bite his tongue off. why is he so embarrassed? but you just chuckle, like morning bird song across fresh dew on the grass.

“switching it up, huh? that’s cute.” you hum, and his face burns hot like embers in a brick fireplace. he coughs, throat scratchy like the pricks of a pinecone— but you make no note of it, simply going about your day.

he’s content to watch as you fish around in the rum-colored cabinets, pulling out a crinkly bag of cocoa powder. you put him on milk microwaving duty and he busies himself, lithe pale fingers unscrewing the carton of milk and pouring it into his favorite little painted dog mug. you were the one who’d made it; that silly little ceramics class you insisted on taking clearly didn’t help you too much in the way of smoothing down the bumps and blotches on the mug, but it holds your fingerprint, so he might as well memorize the shape of your hands when you’re not there.

megumi’s snapped back to reality when you grab a candy cane from the mini tree you decorated together sitting on the kitchen counter, smashing it up in the wrappings to mix the pepperminty dust with the cocoa powder. he eyes the pile of holiday drug warily as he brings the steaming mug over, placing it before you and leaning against the counter again to watch you work your mystery magic.

“that looks like brown cocai—”

“shh, megumi. keep your pretty mouth shut, please.”

he’s about to butt in again, lips parted before he presses them together irritatedly and resigns to sulk in silence.

you pour the hot chocolate mix into the milk, swishing it together as it forms a pretty spiral of cocoa; the color of dark chai and chocolate tart. he’s content to watch in silence, humming some christmas carol he’d overheard you listening to one gray afternoon— until he realizes you’re opening a bag of those sickeningly sweet and fluffy marshmallows he’d bought you on a whim. he only did it because his mentor told him they made the best gifts, but he’s beginning to realize it was the sweet tooth talking.

“hey— wait… are you going to put those in there, pretty?” he asks, putting a gentle hand on your wrist to stop you from vigorously emptying the bag into his poor victimized hot chocolate mug.

you glance up at him and flash a toothy grin, giving him one of those looks that makes his heart skip a beat. “trust me, gumi! you’re gonna love it.” you laughed, shrugging his hand off, and his lips curve downward. less because of the marshmallows that are toppling into his mug with a splash and more so because you freed yourself from his grasp.

obviously, you notice— your eyebrows knit together, a pinch of guilt weighing upon them like the snow on the streets outside. but it’s wiped away as quickly as it comes; before he knows it, you’re walking away with a bounce in your step, disappearing behind the counter before re-emerging with something behind your back.

“don’t look so sad, gumi. here,” you say, the cadence of your voice as soft and playful as he ever remembers it being when you pull a bunch of roses from behind your back. the bouquet is small and there’s dirt clinging to the stems— but his heart melts at the thought that you hand-picked them, prickly thorns and all, for him. “happy birthday,” you whispered, and his walls break.

“you’re not so different from them, you know.” you hummed, smiling as he takes them from you and gives you an inquisitive, quiet look. “you might be a little prickly on the outside, but you’re just as beautiful. you just have to look a little past the thorns.”

he feels his face flush; at this point, it’s probably as red as the stray candy cane shavings melting in his mug and the vibrant petals of the roses. he splutters and mumbles something annoyed under his breath, but he’s sure you can hear the undercurrent of fondness and affection weaves into each syllable like the beats of his heart, where you’re so close to. megumi thinks you might’ve just cut him open and made a home in his ribcage.

the bunch of handpicked roses for his special day sit on the marble counter dusted with cocoa powder and candy cane shavings, marshmallows bobbing at the surface of his hot chocolate like apples in a bucket as he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in to press his lips insistently to yours, slow and tender like the way he always loves you. his hands curl around your sides, as if to ground you there; freeze the time in this bubble of warmth, forgetting the chill outside to warm his hands on your skin. you’re so little in his arms; he wants to hold you and never let you go, to keep you under his tree and have you make hot chocolate for him instead of black coffee every morning he wakes up, because it’s fine if you’re not there in bed— as long as you’re waiting for him with open arms elsewhere.

and when he kisses you, he realizes he might not need his hot cocoa to warm his stomach— your lips are as soft and pillowy sweet as the marshmallows melting in his mug, filled with steaming hot cocoa and all the love he could ever wrap his heart in this cozy winter; his christmas gift to you.

he’s grateful today is a special day, if only because of you and his sweet little painted dog mug filled with your heartwarming love.

stop this was so close to being late my (riaki) stuff. don’t repost and/or plagiarize !

[kitmoas]

when the veneer crumbles

the sounds of water are always relaxing

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: **18+ MINORS DNI**, SMUT, dark and demonic themes, death, possession, drowning, magic use, Mommy kink

as per usual if there is anything I missed let me know

Author's Note: I'm so sorry this one was late, had a lot of car and financial shit I needed to figure out but I finally got it finished. This was one that i always knew how i wanted it to end, even from last year when i first planned it for the Occult series, but for some reason it was REALLY hard to put my idea into words. Hopefully it's not HORRIBLE, i'm a bit rusty after taking more then a few months off. The rest of them will be better I promise lol

Kitmoas | Necrosis Kitmoas | Navigation

The crickets in the distance are a welcome change to the busy streets of the city, cars honking 

nonstop during your work day. The world you live in is hectic and out of control but the farther you walk into the almost clear empty darkness the more you can feel the control you naively gain. Stepping into the barely touched woods behind the mostly abandoned house was something that you had missed, a childhood memory that had died suddenly. 

Allowing your mind to wander to the summers that you would spend here out on the lake, jumping off the dock, and laughing with your cousins was the welcome peace you needed as you settled along the rickety wood. Even if those fun times were cut short at your aunt’s sudden death, you knew that being here gave you just a moment of your innocence back. 

Stepping onto the rickety wood carefully, you cringe internally as your arm tightens momentarily around the rolled up soft blanket. You should have known better to bring a water proof material but it was too late for that. Knees cracking slightly as you lean down, the smooth fabric flaps in the wind and you sigh softly in relief as you are able to fully settle on the dock. Deciding to stretch out was a bit of a mistake, in your time away you forgot just how soothing the sound of water lapping at the damp wood was. 

Goosebumps spread across your skin as you slowly came to consciousness, brittle wind chilling you to the bone as you rub the sleep out of your eye. The fog is dense, and confusing as it was supposed to be a clear night. Slowly sitting up, your bones crack as you stretch as much as possible without rocking the dock too much. The unstable wood is loud even with the bare minimum movement causing you to flinch as it echoes across the empty field. 

Squinting through the haze, you try to figure out if you can gauge just how late it is by the placement of the moon. The only thing you can see is a weird tunnel out in the middle of the lake, almost like a tornado of gray. Immediate fear isn’t your first thought, though you begin to question just how awake you are. 

Condensation makes the wood wet, slipping as you try to stand up but it's the glowing red orbs in the distance that makes you freeze in your half crouched position. They are captivating even from afar. The air around you is thick, filled with the now red tinted fog that almost looks like it's bleeding. Heavy and molasses-like as it lays on your skin, eyes flickering around you try to make sense of your surroundings. 

When she gets close enough to see smaller details, your brain slows almost to a complete stop. She’s entirely too breathtakingly beautiful and tragically horrific at the same time. No color to her skin, it’s almost as though she comes directly from one of the old black and white television shows your mother liked to watch. The woman is wearing tight clothing, torn and ripped sporadically. Her eyes almost seem so gray that they are an ethereal foggy green, only flashing ruby when the shrap thin lines all over her body pulsate crimson. Her hair is long and dripping with an inky hue, tangled and disheveled. Fingertips dipped in a steaming tar, dancing near her side as she stalks towards you. 

It’s when you can almost reach out and touch the figure that you finally scramble backwards, putting distance between the two of you as the flight side of your instincts kick in. You barely make it more than five steps when you’re being dragged upwards with some sort of red translucent mist. It wraps around your wrists, dragging your arms above your head as you flop about uselessly. Screams are getting caught in your throat as you have to just hang there, watching this being get closer to you. 

When the lady is directly below you, the hair on the back of your neck stands up straight and your muscles twitch from how tense they are. You want to panic, to yell, but something stops you. Tilting her head, she has to look up at you from where her magic holds you against the rough bark. Her hand comes out to touch you, but the soft feeling comes as a surprise to you. She cups your cheek, a low red spreading in her eyes as you shake under her touch. 

She smiles at you, a soft almost nurturing thing. “You’re just as pretty as I thought you would be, little lamb.” Her voice is chilling, breathy with a raspy tone to it. The older woman’s free hand caresses your stomach, an unwanted warmth sinking into your gut. 

Her nails are jagged, cracked and repulsive, as she takes her time to explore your body. It’s sudden, the vigor in which she gropes your body. Clumsy and completely all over the place, you aren’t entirely sure what she thinks she’s doing. Struggling against your restraints, the chill covers your body like ice freezing over a lake. 

It isn’t until your body takes over, fear and anger sinking into your bones, that the creature seemingly gains control of her actions and her hand becomes confident and firm. Nails pointedly scratching at your skin as fingers map out your skin, almost stabbing at each goosebump she finds. Your eyes are glued to your face as your mind struggles to catch up to what you had done, flinching as her other hand reaches up. It doesn’t strike you as you thought it would, instead she brushes the back of her knuckles against her own face, trepidation stopping your blood from rushing through your body as you finally realize that you spit at her. 

That wasn’t what you wanted to do, you knew that you needed to act smart if you were going to survive this but for some reason all your ability to think logically went out the window. You wanted her more than anything in the world right now, and you knew that you needed to try and do anything to keep her exactly where she was. 

“Do you not have control over your stupid little body, mortal?” Her voice is low, almost filled with gravel as she mumbles. Rust filled eyes not even paying you a second of attention but instead staring at the glistening saliva that drips from her fingers. 

Your head is shaking vigorously, denying inability in hopes that she doesn’t see you as foolish. The desire to be praised by her came as a surprise, but you weren’t fighting it and it seems to have worked. A smile slowly stretches across the surreal creature’s face as she blinks slowly. “It’s so funny to see such a useless being believe they are worth anything more than what I deem them to be. You think by answering my question in whatever way you think I want will make the outcome of your situation better?” 

She speaks softly, almost nurturing as she rubs her soaked fingers along your neck, smearing your own spit against you. You crane your neck as much as you can against the crimson smog wrapped there, trying to hear her voice as clearly as possible. 

“I take what I want and no smart mouthed, stupid brained little human is going to stop that. I like to have fun, and the peak is watching you bleed out for me.” The words are harsh but you can’t help but moan as your body is thrown upwards, red tendrils tightening and dragging you to hang limply from the tree branch. It’s devoid of leaves, and creaks under your weight, but it somehow makes you feel like you have a safety net. You had climbed this tree many times in the past, and even had various hanging sets from this very limb. 

Swinging freely, you try to move your body as much as possible as the urge to escape your confines sinks in. Entirely too focused, you don’t realize that her hands are moving along your ice cold skin. Groping softly, her movements are controlled and precise to make sure that you barely register it in your brain. It’s when her hands force your legs apart, maroon vapor ropes slithering around your thighs to hold them open, that you finally realize just how hard you are breathing. Your body felt slightly warm, at least in your core, and you could feel your blood rushing downwards. It was almost like your entire being was electrified and you were entirely too conscious of every single thing you felt. 

She doesn’t take her time, her eyes narrow as she focuses on mapping out your skin. The bright  ruby lines she leaves in her wake only entertain her for so long before she finally moves in between your shaking thighs. The older woman’s finger swipes through your folds, collecting the small amount of wetness she finds there. Gasping as she spreads it across your clit, a throbbing ache despite the way your body revolts. Her jaw mockingly drops when for the first time her eyes light up with amusement, giggling when your hips chase her hand. “Oh poor baby, I can’t fuck you if you’re not wet enough. It’ll hurt your small fragile little body too much and Mommy doesn’t want to hurt you.” 

Your head is shaking violently, nonsensical protests tumbling from your lips. It didn’t matter to you, regardless if it was because you wanted her or wanted the situation to be over with, you just needed her to touch you. Even though your wetness wasn’t enough for her, you did feel aroused. Maybe it was your mind tricking you into believing this was what you wanted or maybe it was the glittering crimson behind your irises, but that wasn’t a piece of information that you needed to know. 

She tuts, chastising you. “Now don’t lie to me. I know what you want even if your mind fights it, and your body hasn’t caught up, I know.” You watch as she takes a step back, letting her eyes drink in your form. Letting the back of her knuckles run down your torso, you watch as she slowly kneels on the damp dirt. Her hands are grazing over your thighs, pushing them farther open as she leans in. The grip she has on you, though gentle, is strong and you can’t kick her when you feel her mouth along your skin. 

The smoothness of her strangely sharp teeth is hot against your cooled body, but it’s the sharp pierce and spilling of your blood that leaves a weirdly chilled warmth leaking down your leg. Eyes widening you try to look past the head of dark locks to see what just happened, but it didn’t take long for your brain to catch up and the stabbing pain on your inner thigh. 

She looks up at you, sparkling light jade eyes catching the moon light, with a toothy smile and a small dribble of crimson running down her chin. “You’re a fucking vampire?” You couldn’t help the shocked yelp, body shaking with fear. 

The being doesn’t even answer you, giggling as rolls her eyes up at you. She seems so innocent in those moments but nothing gets rid of the terror emanating within your soul. Looking back at your bleeding thigh, she swipes her fingers through the thick liquid to coat them. Her nails catch on the open wound, sending another wave of searing pain through your body but she pays no attention to you. 

It almost feels like time stops as you hang there, waiting, but the moment the brunette swipes her crimson dipped thumb across your clit something in your body cracks. It’s small but you can feel the change and in your mind you start screaming at yourself. You know being vocal won’t stop this crazy woman, but you wanted to deter her by being completely unaffected. It was the last thing you had on her, to make her believe that what she was doing was just pure torture and you found absolutely no pleasure in it, but you knew that that power over her was no longer available to you. 

Never one for vanilla sex, not even in theory, you shouldn’t be that surprised that being taken by force from a demonic crazy being would be right up your alley. No one could ever keep up with you, your fantasies were just a bit too intense or a bit too dangerous, and for once everything you ever wanted was being fulfilled. This gorgeous being was forcing her fingers farther into you, your blood dripping randomly down different parts of your body. 

Despite your want for intensely kinky sex, you knew that it should be completely consensual right? It should let you know that, and you could feel your anger rising in your body as the heat zoomed between your thighs. This couldn’t be consensual, not with how it started, but if it wasn’t then why did the idea of her actually stopping tear you up on the inside? You couldn’t fathom the idea of her ice cold thumb pulling away from your throbbing clit for too long, for her touch on your body to not cause goosebumps.  

She doesn’t wait much longer, no need to attempt to please you now that she has the wetness she wants, shoving two fingers into you with almost no remorse. A shrill scream gets stuck in your throat as you choke on the force of air rushing up, the pain bringing tears to your eyes. A sign of weakness that this twisted soul revels in as she thrusts her fingers in, letting her free hand drag up crimson periodically.  

The pain was immense and you were certain that she had to be using something besides her fingers, there was no way that the small hands in between your thighs were causing this much agony. You wanted to shove against her, but the moment her teeth sink into your breast you know you’re gone. Hips jumping, trying to get her to move more as the pleasure starts to settle in your tummy, uselessly against her body. It felt so bad that the good started to come from a delirious state, and you just needed her to move. The tips of her fingers just rubbing slightly against the soft spot inside of you, the texture of her wrinkled skin felt wrong but you were starting to become obsessed. 

“Isn’t it comical? A desperate slut like you thought you had everything together, thought I was going to ruin your life by taking what was destined to be mine?” Through the heavy fog that had begun to settle in your head you tried your best to look down at her, shock painted across your face. How did she know what you were thinking? She doesn’t give you any answer, instead her thrusting gets more aggressive as the wetness between your thighs grows, and it mixes with the blood still heavily leaking from the bite marks. 

You want to moan, whimper, maybe even plead but you were no longer sure what you wanted. Logically you needed this to stop if you were to ever be okay again, but at the same time all you wanted to do was feel her mouth on your clit. You wanted her to fuck you until you were incoherent, a drooling mess. Hatred towards yourself and her fueled your motions as you tried to work to take more of her hand, stretching around her third finger as she shoves it ungracefully into you. 

Her mouth is at your knee now, glowing eyes looking up at you as she smirks. “Taking me so well for someone so against getting used.” Her arm is moving roughly, fingers curling inside you as she ghosts her teeth along your thigh. “So clean, so dry. Why don’t you make a mess for Mommy? I like my cunts all wet and messy.” 

It was then you found your power, despite the arousal burning in your belly and the way you clenched around her fingers whenever she swiped her thumb along your clit. You knew that the more you let your thoughts wonder, even if it had to be forced, that you would be able to pull yourself from the situation. Imagine yourself somewhere else and almost black out during everything, your body would be limp and pliant but not give her what she wants. The movie you would go see in a week with your best friends, or the long list of groceries that you knew you needed to get when you went back into the city. Thoughts swarmed your head as you tried your hardest to ignore the way her fingers poked and prodded, the way her thumb caressed your swollen clit just perfectly. 

Screwing your eyes shut, you make your best attempt at seeming unaffected but you don’t realize that you aren’t winning. If anything you just make it more fun for the being below you, giving her the opportunity to make you as wet as she wants. 

Being so focused on the thoughts traveling through your brain was good until you don’t feel the tugging on your wrists, persistent and firm. It’s only when you’re tumbling helplessly through the air that you realize you are no longer hanging from the tree, but instead falling face first into the freezing lake. It’s a shock, breaking the surface of the water. It knocks the breath out of your lungs and forces your throat to close, you can practically feel all your muscles seize as well. You make the mistake of opening your mouth to scream, causing a rush of dirty water to fill your lungs, and it’s only when her hand claws at the back of your head that you feel even an ounce of relief. 

She’s tearing your body out of the water, pieces of the thin ice fly around you and you can’t believe that you relax as your body collides with her. “Don’t think that you can try to outplay Mommy like that you little slut. I know what you want, you are my destiny. You were made to take me, so be a good girl and let me do what I was made to do.” Her voice is sweet, almost soft, as she speaks through her teeth directly into your ear. It shouldn’t calm your racing heart, neither should the almost warm comforting touch of her red mist along your thighs. 

You want to let yourself fall, the intense arousal is boiling in your tummy and you can feel the coil tightening with each brush of her hand along your body. It would be much easier to allow yourself to become immersed in the pleasure coursing through your body, but it wasn’t until she allowed that crimson fog to slip inside you. Despite the fact that whatever she was pushing into you was magical, you were still too tight for her liking. There was a part of you deep down that still didn’t want this and it was causing your body to react subconsciously. 

‘If the slut doesn’t want to get wet, then I’ll keep you wet myself.” Her hands scratch up your side, a nail digging into your nipple on the way up and it makes your hip buck. You feel yourself melting back into her and a moan softly slips from your parted lips. The urge to pretend that it’s from the cold is strong, but you can’t even pretend at this point like the feeling of her hands on you isn’t turning you on. 

Her hands are running along your torso, teasing your nipples and scratching up your stomach. It almost feels normal, just another hookup and it makes you forget. Losing yourself in the way that the ruby swells inside you, rubbing against the soft spot it finds and caressing your clit softly. 

The wetness between your thighs is gathering the longer she plays with you, wine stained mist thrusting lazily into you. It almost plays with you, knowing that it ruts to hard or fast that it will bring you closer to the edge, but it keeps you writhing for more with each movement. You want to beg for more, ask her to touch you with her own hands as you have begun to crave her ice touch, though there is something that is stopping you from doing that. It isn’t necessarily pride, something you lost the moment you began to get turned on by this aggressive form of twisted affection. 

It’s when her nails scratch at the back of your neck that you realize the fog that’s dragging you slowly, almost mockingly leisurely, towards the edge is growing. Almost like a ball, it feels like she’s pushing her magic abilities to stretch you to the point right before danger. You’re confused, as your wetness starts dripping down your thighs and your breath starts picking up, how much more wet could you get? 

Instant regret floods your system almost as fast as the ice cold water that rushes down your throat as she shoves your face directly into the lake. It’s not a quick dunk to shock you this time, her claw-like hand squishing your face into the almost mud like dirt at the bottom. She doesn’t stop forcing more and more into you, her magical fog swelling larger and it presses against where your torso is now pressed against the ground. Even as you struggle against her, your internal will to try and live kicking in, you can’t help the build up in your stomach. The coil tightens as her magic moves within you, moving inside you as her nails dig into her back. 

Sharp stinging pains are a contrast, an added sensation, to your panic as you begin to think maybe she is just going to keep you submerged. There’s no way she would, right? She wants to use you, there would be no reason that she would want to truly harm you. 

A deep belly chuckle is muffled through the water, barely a vibration as your arm and head flail as much as possible. You wanted out but you can’t help but moan instead of scream, the pleasure of her nails into your shoulder blades and her thigh grinding between your thighs into the swell of mist there beginning to get too overwhelming. It was no longer a fight to survive but a fight to enjoy the last moments of life. Somewhere in your mind you knew that you wouldn’t actually make it out of this alive, but for some reason you’ve decided to ignore that. 

“Such a stupid whore, letting just anyone touch your cunt.” She fists your soaked hair in your hand, and just for a fleeting moment the pain mixed with arousal takes over your fogged mind. “You don’t even know Mommy and yet here you are, taking my gorgeous gift like the good little fuck toy you are.” Her free hand abandons your back in lue of groping your ass, pushing down against it to get you to stop moving. Her thigh is pushing against your throbbing clit now, soaked in your wetness despite water lapping up as you splash about. 

You can feel your vision start to darken, the edges of the burning sensation as you try to keep your eyes open have blurred and blackened. Unsure if you are even panicking anymore, your body starts to relax and the only thing you can focus on is the fuzzy warm arousal filling each nerve in your body. The water floating around you becomes tranquil as each muscle in your body softens and you move with each thrust into you. 

A wide sinister smile stretches unnaturally along the being’s face, pulling her almost gray lips as far as they can as she stares down at your almost lifeless body. She can see the signs and for her it motivates her even more, forcing more and more of her magic into you. You were everything she could have ever wanted and she refused to let you stay in the living world, if she was destined to be stuck to this lake forever then so would you. 

Slowly you could feel all the tension in your body start to clump together in your stomach, draining from the rest of you and tightening around the scarlet orb inside you. You craved that last bit of pleasure, that last rush in your veins to end this for good. 

When it becomes almost impossible to move and you are no longer shaking from panic or exertion, but instead trembling from hanging onto the edge, she knows it’s time. Sneering down at your limp form, she uses her grip in your hair to turn your head. Slapping at your cheek until she can just barely see your fuzzy bloodshot eyes, an almost soft nurturing smile paints along her face once she sees your drunk like state. “There’s my girl. So fucked out.” Her sphere cloud inside you starts to vibrate, her cold dark eyes once more glowing a dim ruby. 

Gripping at your jaw, her claw practically breaks your neck as she forces you to keep eye contact with her. Even as your eyes slip closed, struggling to stay open as you start to dangle over the edge, you can’t help but feel drawn in to listen. “Say my name, little toy, say it and stay with me forever.” Her voice is raspy, bordering soft but she’s taunting you. “You know it, you know you do, so say it. Say it now.” Her actions become frantic, her thigh grinding more aggressively into you. She’s trying to force you into a more pathetic state, even at the edge of death she wants you to be begging for her. 

As much as you can you try to deny knowing, because how could you? You had never seen this person, if that’s what she is even considered, before this horrific situation. The attempt at trying to keep water from going down your throat had stopped, your lungs should have filled completely with liquid by now so some other power must have been keeping you alive. 

Though you couldn’t see it, the being was getting annoyed. Her eyes rolled as she realized that you were thinking again, a brain dead creature who could still think. “Say my name and you can cum for Mommy, like the pretty little whore you are.” She spits at you through her teeth, pointed and your blood drying on the dull shine. With her words she sees a change in your stature, even held under the force of her hand, eagerness. Humming slowly she allows her maroon mist to sink into each part of your body. 

Your brain was almost empty, nothing but serene thoughts going through it as you felt yourself slip into the darkness. You thought that there would be a light at the end of the time but instead you start seeing a faint rosy hue. The being above you is yelling at you and the need to give in is strong, you want to end everything on a high. You need that high. 

Her name slips into the water almost silently, your eyes slipping closed as you fall into unconsciousness, but it’s there. She hears it, muffled, “Wanda.” Usually one of her biggest fears, not one to want to go back to the damned dark world but with you she could thrive. A black magic demon who accomplished its goal? She would rule the world with a scarlet leash around your neck. A small smirk as her magic starts to die, a sure sign she’s going back to being contained. Until the end of time you will be her needy little toy, just as you were as you took your last breath. 

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

The Dark Side Of The Moon

Hangman Adam Page X Fem Reader

Summary: Hangman falls for dark and mysterious Y/n who is a part of the Blackpool Combat Club. Despite their ongoing rivalry, he can’t seem to get Y/n out of his head. Every time she jumps him from behind, leaving him in a puddle of his own blood it only causes him to fall harder. Deep down inside Hangman knew Y/n cared, that she did indeed have a soul and he would do anything to find it. Everyone told him this was a bad idea. It was obvious that Y/n had mental issues and was ‘broken’ but Adam didn’t care. He wanted to fix her. He would stop at nothing to reach the dark side of the moon, which in this case was the light side of Y/n’s heart. Who knows maybe he would end up saving her life or better, they’d save each others. 

Warnings: Blood, Violence, Drug use/abuse, Self-harm, swearing, mentions of mental health issues, SMUT and other sensitive topics

An: I think this is my favourite fic I've ever done. This one pulled on the heartstrings. I can't believe I got it to 8k and could have easily made it longer too! Hope you enjoy it!

Word Count 8k Main Masterlist Hangman Adam Page Masterlist

I don’t know what it was that I saw in Y/n. She was cold, dark and viscous. She had no soul and people feared her, she was a threat. Yet I believed I could change her. Not that I thought she needed to be changed but I thought I could fix whatever she had hidden away under those walls she had built up. Once upon a time, I knew Y/n although she didn’t know me. I had seen her circling the independent circuit starting out as a wrestler as I was just getting my break. I had secretly kept an eye on her for all those years. When I found out she was a free agent I suggested to Matt and Nick we should sign her. They liked what they saw and soon Y/n was All Elite. She was quickly scooped up by The Blackpool Combat Club and was soon the biggest heel in our company. You could tell just by looking at Y/n that she’s been through things in her young life. Maybe it was the constant dark circles and tired look in her eyes. Maybe it was scars that were scarred around her body that she wore with pride. Some were faded while others weren’t. Some were from life and matches but others you could tell were self-inflicted. As much as all of these things helped the whole look she was going for I knew deep down inside that wasn’t the real Y/n. No one had ever seen her genuinely smile, no one had ever seen her laugh. It was like she was emotionless but I knew deep down she did have feelings, they were just hidden from the world. Every week Y/n would arrive and leave the arena with the BCC she stuck with them like glue. I knew the BCC claimed that they did everything together but I didn’t think it was true. 

One night I caught Y/n smoking in the hotel lobby late after a show. I almost didn’t recognize her. For starters she wasn’t with the BCC, since it was close to 2 am I assumed they were asleep. The second thing I noticed was what Y/n was wearing. She wore a creme-coloured oversized hoodie with a pair of black velvet PJ shorts. Along with that, she had knee-high pink fuzzy socks and black fluffy uggs. It was nice seeing her in color other than black. She also wasn’t wearing any makeup, the flame from her cigarette illuminated her face in an ethereal way. I never realized she was so young. Her skin was youthful, she was beautiful. Not that she wasn’t before but this was a different type of beauty. Underneath the heavy dark makeup she wore you could see just how gorgeous she truly was. 

I told this all to Matt Nick and Kenny the next time I saw them, they however had some different opinions. Kenny first said it was weird I was spying on her but I just happened to run into her. I thought about approaching her but I was nervous about what the end result would be so I observed from afar. Matt was quick to remind me just who she was “You do realize she is a part of The Blackpool Combat Club right? They are insane! I’m not trying to be rude or anything but I’m just looking out for you. I don’t want to see you get hurt” I appreciated his concern but at the same time was offended by his comments. This whole thing ended up spiraling into Nick and Matt arguing with the other on why I should and shouldn’t be feeling this way for Y/n. I regret even mentioning it in the first place. Kenny tried to comfort me but I was too far gone. “I agree with Nick, I think that although she is scary you two would be a nice pair. You could balance the other out” he said. Balance out? Was he calling me soft? Yes sure I’d been told I can give off golden retriever vibes but if need be I can flip and be bad too. For god sake, we all got suspended for getting into a fight with Punk! Anyway this was the last of my worries, I had a match with none other than Jon Moxley tonight. I knew that Y/n would be ringside and I wanted to show her that I could be tough and bad too. 

I stood calmly in the ring as I watched Mox and Y/n make their entrance. I felt my breath get caught in my throat as she approached me. For some reason I was nervous. I had never been nervous around her before but I guess that was because I didn’t have these feelings yet. Throughout the match Y/n did her usual distractions, distracting the ref, pulling my feet from underneath me even using herself as a shield to protect Mox. I knew she would do all of these things but this time it was different. The mind games she played were working, I found myself hypnotized by her beauty. I was in fact so distracted that I didn’t even see Mox charging right at me. I swear I saw Y/n mouth ‘Look out’ but it was too late. I don’t remember much after that. I felt my body hit the canvas hard, my head bouncing on contact. I got knocked out. 

When I finally came to, I was surrounded by AEW medical staff and some of the talent. “How are you feeling?” asked one of the doctors. “My head hurts,” I told them, feeling the throbbing in the back of my head. “You took a pretty nasty fall” I reached up and felt several bandages on the back of my head, how hard did I hit? After going through both verbal and physical tests the backstage medic said I didn’t need to go to the hospital which was a sigh of relief. I found out that I did a whole backflip when being hit with a lariat, I landed on my head, right in front of Y/n. 

It was quite a scary moment for everyone. The match was ended immediately and Mox was able to tend to the crowd, distracting them from the scene that unfolded before them. I was shocked to find out that Y/n had been there the whole time. She stayed the whole time as doctors catered to me. She had even followed them backstage, leaving only minutes before I came to. I didn’t know why she would do that, we weren’t friends, we didn’t even talk. To me, this proved exactly what I thought. She did have a soul. As I watched the match back along with the cut footage I was able to see how the whole thing played out. It was obvious that I was mesmerized by Y/n, I was practically drooling. She played on it, using it to her advantage so Mox could have the upper hand. She did tell me to watch out and I was able to see the horror in her eyes as I hit the canvas. She was in shock, hell everyone was but since Y/n wasn’t one for showing her emotions when she did show them it was quite obvious. Since the whole thing happened in front of her out of instinct she was the first to check on me, yelling to the official that I was out cold. Luckily the camera didn’t catch her breaking character but many still had their phones out, capturing the whole thing. She stayed next to me, supporting my head/neck until medical arrived then she stood from a distance as medical did their thing. Throughout the whole thing, her facial expressions remained cold but her eyes told the whole story. 

I also found out that people had a thing or two to say about the whole situation. Others praised Y/n for making sure I was okay and in a way saving my life while others claimed she ruined the act. She broke character, she broke the fourth wall. The wrestlers didn’t care nor did the audience, it was the people online that did. It got so bad that Y/n ended up responding to the comments on Twitter. 

“All of these comments about me checking on Hangman are really pissing me off. The first thing I learned in wrestling school is that the most important thing is to keep your opponent safe at all times no matter what. Did you really expect me to watch him fall on his head and get knocked out in front of me and do nothing? I was simply preventing his unconscious body from rolling out of the ring and getting more injured. You guys need to grow up. I have been knocked out before in the ring and it is no joke whatsoever. So what, I was making sure he was still breathing. Who cares if I was supporting his head/neck before medical could arrive? THIS IS PRO WRESTLING! It’s not like I was the one wrestling him. I only did those things because I was ringside and not involved in the match. I wouldn’t stop mid-match and perform CPR on my opponent! All of this was pure instinct, I wasn’t even thinking about what I was doing. Anyway, that’s my two cents. It’s over and I’m glad The Cowboy is okay.” 

I ended up staying away for six weeks for percussion and when I returned all I could feel was the stares. Everyone wanted to know how I was doing, if I was cleared but all I cared about was seeing Y/n. I wanted to thank her. Once I escaped the crowd of people I found Y/n leaning against a wall. It was almost like she was waiting for me. “How are you feeling?” she asked “You took a pretty nasty fall. I thought you were dead” “I’m feeling much better now. Thank you for making sure I wasn’t dead” I told her. I swear I saw her smile for just a second but I wasn’t sure. “Well I’m glad you’re alright and sorry for causing it in the first place” “It’s not your fault, I should have been paying attention” I mean it truly was my fault. “I’ll see you around,” said Y/n and with that she left. 

Although our interaction was short I couldn't stop thinking about Y/n. I wanted to get under her skin, I wanted to spend time with her and get to know the real Y/n. The thing is, like Matt said she was in the Blackpool Combat Club, what would she want to do with someone like me? Deep down inside I knew that this was only the beginning. I was angry, I was frustrated for allowing myself to be so careless and get such a stupid injury. I wanted my rematch. I decided I would use one of their own tricks against them, the mind games. It was subtle at first. I’d wait at the gorilla whenever the BCC entered the backstage area where we would exchange a few looks. I’d follow them around the arena, a silent reminder that I was always watching. How I could seek my revenge at any moment. I’d then move on to causing them matches. I sneaked out during one of Y/n’s matches and stood ringside waiting for her to notice. When she finally did she started yelling at me, that distraction caused her opponent to roll Y/n up for a sneaky victory. “I’m going to kill you!” She yelled. 

It had gotten to the point where everyone was mad at each other and the promo battle began. I was the first to call out the BCC claiming that it was all Y/n’s fault that I got injured. I mean it was, you could get lost in her eyes, I did and look what happened. Soon after the sneak attacks began. I didn’t know what I was thinking, I was outnumbered big time but even though it was just me I was able to get under their skin and they hated it. As I was filming yet another backstage segment I was inputted by Y/n. She came up to me all flirtatious wearing a black pleated skirt and a black corset top where her breasts were practically falling out. “Heyyyy Cowboy” Y/n said as she twisted her hair. “I just wanted to apologize for everything. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt and I didn’t mean for everything to go this far.” As she spoke she kept coming closer to me to the point where we were chest to chest. “I feel really bad about it, let me make it up to you….” It’s a trick, say no, this is a trap. Every bone in my body told me it was a trick but I couldn't deny her offer. The chokehold she had on me was too strong, I couldn't breathe. I didn’t say anything, I wanted her to continue. She pulled a key card and a slip of paper from her top. “Here is my room key, meet me after the show” She handed me the card and kissed me on the cheek. I couldn't breathe, my body went numb. 

I stood in front of Y/n’s hotel room, key card in hand. I was scared to knock, I knew it was a trap but a part of me hoped it wasn’t. That was the part that led me here. I knocked on the door and was pleasantly greeted by Y/n. She wore a gorgeous black lingerie set that had me practically foaming at the mouth. She was acting all sweet and kind, I didn’t buy a second of it. Yet I did nothing about it. “I’ve been expecting you,” She said seductively as she grabbed me by my collar and began to kiss me passionately. I kissed her back, as she wrapped her legs around me. Y/n was first to break the kiss saying “I have a surprise for you” I was skeptical at first but was more interested in this ‘surprise’. Y/n grabbed a black silk blindfold and tied it around me. She carefully brought me to the bed, giving me one last kiss before she disappeared. “Where are you going?” I asked her. “Hold on…I’m getting the surprise ready. You can open your eyes when I tell you” I didn’t even notice that the BCC was in the room the whole time, Bryan stood behind the door, Mox by the bedside table and Claudio and Yuta hid in the washroom. During my time being blindfolded the men exposed themselves and Y/n retrieved the hidden weapons. “Okay, you can open your eyes!” said Y/n. When I removed the blindfold that’s when I saw them. “Fuck” 

I didn’t even get a chance to defend myself. This was a four-on-one attack. I tried my best to protect myself as fighting back wouldn’t do anything but it was useless. I was left covered in bruises in a pool of blood. My body ached as yet another Kendo Stick cracked on my back. My eyes were fixated on Y/n during the whole attack. She just sat and watched the attack unfold before her. Everything about her was cold, the lifeless expression on her face, her mysterious body language. I searched for something, anything that would tell me she cared, that she felt bad but I found nothing. The lust that was once in her eyes moments ago had been replaced with a seductive evil look. 

I watched Y/n stand up, the attack was over. My body now lay on the floor, I couldn't move. She knelt next to me and said “Stupid cowboy, you fell right into my trap. Although you’re adorable I must say you are quite an idiot. This is the oldest trick in the book, even you should have seen this coming. This isn’t personal, It’s just business. You did this all to yourself, you thought you could call us out like that and there wouldn’t be consequences? This is what happens when you mess with The Blackpool Combat Club '' Y/n placed one last delicate kiss on my lips before leaving the room, leaving me in a pile of my own blood. 

***

Currently, I sat in the Elite’s private locker room, being lectured by Matt, Nick and Kenny. “I told you this was going to happen! What were you thinking?!” Yelled Matt. “That’s the issue, he wasn’t. He’s been hypnotized by Y/n. Isn’t it obvious that he’s in love with her!” Said Kenny 

He was right, I was in love with Y/n. I have no idea why. She has been attacking me for weeks, for god sake last night I was left in a pile of my own blood, battered and bruised. Despite all of that I just kept falling harder and harder for Y/n. “Is that true? You’re in love with her?” asked Nick. “I don’t know what it is that I see in her Nick, I really don’t. I’m just so drawn to her, I know that underneath all that darkness there is a light that is dying to be let out! I need to find that light. I know that I can change her, she’s broken and I can fix her. Now I don’t ask you for much but I need your help with this! I need to get in” The men said nothing. They looked at me like I was crazy but they also looked as if they felt sorry for me. 

“Look Hanger, I don’t think we can help you with this. Somehow you need to get Y/n on her own, that’s the only chance you have here. I don’t support this idea, I know it will end badly but I do agree with you that Y/n has some issues. Not that there's anything wrong with that but I just don’t think you need to be responsible for fixing it. All I will say is that Y/n doesn’t sleep at night. If you are lucky you might be able to run into her during a 3 am workout or a smoke sesh. Good luck man. You can call me for backup if you need” Kenny told me sincerely. “Thank you” 

That night I couldn't sleep, all I could think about was the events that occurred not even 24 hrs ago. I had Y/n where I needed her, I had her pressed up against the wall, she was so close yet so far. I didn’t even care that I got beat up, it was worth the makeout sesh that happened before. Her lips were soft, her kisses were passionate. She smelt like vanilla and tobacco, her exposed skin was warm and delicate. She didn’t feel real, she was a figment of my imagination. I let that imagination run wild, I pictured what would happen if the BCC wasn’t there. The way I would scoop her up in my arms and make the most beautiful love to her. I would worship her body like the temple it was. I would slowly and passionately make her come undone. I would make her submit to me, but if she wanted it the other way around I wouldn’t complain. I was putty in her hands. My brain played a trick on me, my imagination was too real. It felt too real. 

“I’ve been expecting you,” Y/n  said seductively as she grabbed me by my collar and began to kiss me passionately. I kissed her back, as she wrapped her legs around me. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting this” I told her “I know baby, I know. I want you too, I need you” she said. I carefully brought Y/n to the bed, placing her on it delicately before getting on top of her. I had her wrists pinned above her head as I placed rough kisses along her body. I found that sweet spot on her neck and made sure to leave a mark. Sucking on the sensitive flesh as she cried out in pleasure. I removed her clothing gently as if I was unwrapping a present. She looked beautiful underneath me. I quickly removed my own clothing before returning to Y/n. We fought for dominance but in the end I won. It felt like our bodies were made for eachother, I had found my other half. Y/n felt beautiful around me, she made me feel so good. 

Just as I was getting to the good part of my dream I woke up. 

I checked the time and it was close to 2 am, my gut was telling me Y/n was near. Like Kenny said, my only shot with her was when she was alone. I quickly threw on a pair of gray sweats and a T-shirt and made my way down to the hotel lobby. Just like I suspected I found Y/n by the outdoor fire lounge smoking a cigarette, writing something in a notebook. I slowly approached her, not wanting to scare her. “What do you want, Cowboy?” Y/n asked. The tone she said it in was quiet, it was soft, it was weird. “Can I sit?” I asked and she motioned me to sit next to her. “What are you doing out here so late by yourself? It’s cold and there are creeps out there” I told her. Y/n put out the cigarette and turned to face me. Her pupils were huge, her face and body relaxed, I knew Molly when I saw it, that explains why she wasn’t screaming at me. “What is it that you see in me? I’m fucked up, no one wants to be with someone like me.” She said sadly, it broke my heart. “Y/n I know you’re hurting, I don’t know what you went through but I’m sorry it happened to you. Now I came out here for a whole other reason but you are not okay-” “I’m fine, you know nothing about me” “Then tell me, I want to learn. I want to know every single detail about you Y/n. You are playing a dangerous game right now, it’s only a matter of time before everything falls apart. I just can’t leave you like this, I promise I won’t try anything but I think you should come with me-” “Are you insane, I might be fucked up but I’m competent enough to know you want to fuck me” “No, No I promise not like that. I just want to repay you after you saved my life a few months back. I don’t care if you kill me tomorrow but you need to come with me Y/n” I told her sincerely. I could tell she was hesitant, she was in a vulnerable state but she agreed. I carefully took her back to my hotel room. I entered the room and assumed Y/n followed behind me. I turned and there she stood in the doorway. She looked like a scared lost child, it broke me. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” I asked her carefully. “It’s okay, you're okay” I didn’t know what to do in this situation. I know I said I wanted to get to know the real Y/n but the truth was the real Y/n was scaring me. The Y/n that stood back at me with big doe eyes was scared. Maybe this was the version that was hiding under the dark makeup and clothing. This was the Y/n that was hurt, this is the one I needed to fix. I approached her slowly and reached out my hand, trying to get her to follow me into the room. She flinched. “I shouldn’t be here, we can’t be doing this,” Y/n said quietly. “I know but I don’t seem to care,” I told her “Does Bryan know you do this? How would they feel if they saw you like this? Just come in so no one sees you” She entered the room slowly and sat down on the large king bed, her head down. I locked the door behind me and was able to notice just how bad of a state she was in. Her once straight hair had become frizzy, her natural curls trying to appear to the world. The clothing she wore was 2 sizes too big, she was swimming in it. She smelt like alcohol and cigarettes, her skin was ice cold. I joined her on the bed, sitting next to her wanting her to talk first. “What do you want from me?” she asked quietly “I just to help. Look Y/n, I really like you. I don’t care if you hate me but I don’t hate you. I just couldn't leave you like this” Y/n looked at me and with the new lighting I was able to see just how tired she looked. My brain still was trying to comprehend that she was on drugs. “What do you want to know?” She asked. “I want to know why you are like this, why do you do what you do?” 

“I don’t think you know how exhausting it is to live like this. The moment I walk into that arena, the moment I feel a camera on me everything disappears. I am at peace, I am free. I can do whatever I want. The whole Death Jitsu thing is second nature, I live it on the daily. The moment I’m home, the moment I’m alone and that rush has worn off is when I feel it. That reality check hits and I’m done for. I see the world and people for who they truly are. Everyone is fake and everything sucks. You can only pretend so much, you can only lie to yourself for so long until you realize none of it is real. I don’t know why I act like this, maybe it’s the years of trauma that has made me scared to get hurt again. That’s why I act like I have no emotions but in reality, I am quite an emotional person. I was told I had too many feelings, that I cried too much, that I cared too much, that I loved too much. It’s easy to hide it from the world, I have been doing it since I was a child. It’s when you’re alone that everything you hide comes out and you feel like you have gone mentally insane. I do things I probably shouldn’t to keep those feelings inside. It ties me over till morning when I can put on a show and pretend that everything is okay. The thing is when you are so fucked you admit everything that is wrong with you. Here I am telling you my sob story when I should be hating you but the thing is I can’t. Somehow you have gotten in my head, you know my thoughts. You know about the mental issues I refuse to admit I have. I hate how without realizing I let you in. Now if you excuse me I must go.” 

I grabbed Y/n’s hand, preventing her from leaving. “Why is it that you can’t hate me?” I asked her “I like you, I like who you are. You’re nice to everyone, you look like you would give the best hugs. You just have this aura to you. I said what I meant, you are adorable but you are an idiot. An idiot for falling for me. I’ll ruin your life. You don’t want a mentally ill girl who you will have to take care of like a scared child. When I saw you get knocked out in front of me it scared me. I’ve seen it happen too many times, I was having flashbacks. The difference was this time I could do something about it. After that night I had sympathy for you, I felt something for you. I felt like we developed this connection. It’s unfortunate this is happening, I don’t want to hurt you but you did this to yourself.” 

I knew what she needed, she needed someone who would take care of her. She needed someone who would love her for all of her imperfections. Someone who could clean her cuts and kiss her scars. She needed someone to protect her and keep her safe from all the demons. This was a bad idea, I was playing a risky game. This could end badly, she could ruin my life but I was willing to take that risk. The worst thing that could happen is for the BCC to murder me for getting in their girl’s head. “Can I give you a hug?” I asked, she nodded and I held her in a tight embrace, holding her close as she began to cry. She was touch-deprived, which you would have never guessed. Wrestling is such a contact sport that you are always being touched. She was very attractive and many people had crushes on her, you would think she’d have some ‘fun’ now and then. The difference is this was a different kind of touching. This was filled with love. We stayed there for a while, I just held Y/n as she cried. I had broken down a wall, I was inside. Although other walls remained intact this was a step in the right direction. “I’m going to take care of you alright. I promise that everything will be okay Y/n. I’m not going anywhere” I continued to whisper sweet nothings to Y/n as I traced circles around her back. 

Two weeks had passed since that night and I hadn’t seen Y/n since. I was getting nervous, what if something happened to her? What if she did something bad to herself? No one knew anything about the whereabouts of Y/n. I ended up asking Tony Khan where Y/n had been but all he told me was that she was dealing with some “Health Issues” By that he meant mental health issues. My issues with the BCC had cooled down but were far from over. Tonight I had my rematch against Jon Moxley. It was weird seeing the BCC without Y/n, I felt as If I was responsible for her absence. Did I push her too far that she finally jumped? I gave this fight my all, every strike, every kick I threw for Y/n. I wanted to make her proud. I wanted to let her know that I was waiting for whenever she was ready to talk. I blew Y/n a kiss through the camera before hitting a buckshot lariat. Although I was victorious I ended up injuring Mox, causing us to end up right where we started. After the match, Bryan Danielson handed me a sealed envelope. “This is from Y/n. I don’t know what you did to her but she’s more sick than normal so thanks for that” he spat as he threw the envelope at me. 

That night I returned to my hotel I opened the envelope. It was a handwritten letter: 

Hey Adam, hope everything is well. Just so you know I am not dead. You are probably blaming yourself for my absence but I have other things I’m dealing with. I’ve been spending time at home thinking about our conversation from the other night. I understand if I scared you away (I tend to do that to people) but I think I’m willing to take you up on your offer. Next week’s Dynamite is an hour from me. Here’s my address and # if you want to stop by. Sorry in advance for everything and remember that this stays between us. 

- Y/n 

I decided I would arrive a few days before Dynamite and check up on Y/n. I arrived at her house and knocked on the door nervously. When Y/n opened the door I couldn't help the gasp that left my mouth. “Do I really look that bad?” she asked. She didn’t look bad but she didn’t look the best. “Sorry, I’m just nervous” “Well I’m sober this time so I would be nervous too” Y/n joked. I admired her home, it was comforting. Artwork and photos covered the walls and plants were all scattered around. I noticed the white sage she had burning in the kitchen, crystals placed around carefully. 

Y/n explained to me that Bryan ratted her out. They knew everything, I assumed they didn’t and if they did they simply did not care. Part of me was happy to know that the BCC wasn’t as oblivious to Y/n’s issues as I thought. The other part felt bad for her. Revolution was soon approaching and with Y/n on house arrest who knows when she would return. “So why did you really invite me over?” I asked “First I’m lonely and second  I can’t stop thinking about what you said. You told me you would ‘take care of me’. That night is fuzzy to me but you cared. You held me in your arms as I cried. I don’t know what I was crying about but I felt safe. You told me everything was going to be okay and I believed you.” “Every word I said that night was true Y/n. I want to take care of you. I want to help you get clean, I want to be there for every sleepless night. I might sound crazy saying this but I’m in love with you. I don’t know why or how but I just am. I am so in love with you.” I was scared to admit how much I loved Y/n but I knew it would allow her to trust me. She would know I truly did want to help her. Y/n smiled at my words and pulled me in close, holding me tight against her. 

“Where do we start?” I asked Y/n. I followed her to the kitchen and began to throw things out. “All you have to do is get clean right? No mandatory rehab or counseling?” I asked “Nope, I don’t think Bryan told them everything in the first place. All of this is staying under the radar and I should be back in time for revolution anyways.” That was good news. We were brutal with what we threw out. We tossed various liquors, sweet treats, anything that wasn’t good for you. Although Y/n was upset that we had to toss her chocolate I had to explain that if I got rid of one thing you become addicted to the next thing. If you toss everything at once it helps to stay on that clean streak. It was hard but we got through it. We spent that afternoon learning about each other, I was able to see Y/n smile and laugh. Those walls were coming down, she fully let me in. Before I knew it, it was dark outside. “Thank you for today but I should get going, it’s getting late” I told her. “If you want, I have a spare room. You can stay the night. There is supposed to be a storm coming anyways so the roads might be dangerous” I gladly accepted Y/n’s offer to spend the night. 

Like she said, a storm indeed broke out. The thunderstorm was loud, the rain was beautiful. It described the mood perfectly. I was fresh out of the shower and went downstairs to find Y/n making a gorgeous dinner. Everything about her was perfect. She too was fresh out of the shower. I took a second to memorize how she looked in this moment, scared I would never see it again. Her hair was still damp as she went about making dinner. She looked so focused as she measured the ingredients. Her skin glowed in the dim lights, you could tell by her body language that she was relaxed. Once she noticed me she smiled and called me down the stairs. It was a genuine smile that made me smile. When I reached her I gave her a quick kiss and hug to thank her for having me stay the night. As I held her her skin was warm, she smelt like lavender, she felt like home. I know that this whole thing started off as me wanting to help her but she would also end up helping me. I didn’t even realize I had been going through some of the same things as Y/n. I nearly choked on my food when she said “I know we have spent so much time talking about me and my issues but why don’t we talk about you. You helped me with mine so I will help you with yours” I was shocked. “I’m fine, I don’t have any issues” I told her, offended. “Fine, but I know that Punk stuff still bugs you. If you don’t want to talk about that’s fine, but when you are ready to talk about it I will listen” she told me sincerely. I was quick to change the subject and pretend like that whole situation didn’t still bother me. 

I helped Y/n clean up after dinner and the two of us decided to cuddle up on the couch together. Listening to the beautiful storm as one of my favorite albums Dark Side Of The Moon by Pink Floyd quietly played in the background. It was calming, the only light source was the fireplace in front of us. I know she didn’t mean it like that but I couldn't stop thinking about how Y/n said I had issues too. Sure I was an alcoholic, sure I had a temper but that’s nothing. I was interrupted by my thoughts when Y/n asked, “What’s on your mind cowboy?” “What?” “I know you're thinking about something, spill it” I had no choice. It was only fair I opened up to Y/n like how she did to me. 

“Your right” I told her “Right about what?” she asked “About the Punk thing. It still bugs me. I don’t know why but it does. I just can’t seem to catch a break. I can’t breathe without him criticizing me. He started this whole thing to begin with, he is a salty old man who deserves everything that’s happening to him. The world has given him instant karma.” Y/n listened to every word I said. She never once interrupted me, she let me get everything out of my system before assuring me that none of this was my fault. That I was smart, talented and was more pretty than he was. Although her praises were small they left a big impact on me. I felt myself getting emotional, Y/n noticed this and was able to assure me everything would be okay. She sat on my lap, her arms around holding  me close as she told me that everything would be okay. “Everything is going to be okay, I promise. Regardless of what happens with you and the BCC I’m not going anywhere. This can be our secret Adam, no one needs to know” 

I completely forgot about my ongoing issues with the BCC. I didn’t even want to think about that right now. That was a later problem, all I wanted was to enjoy this moment with Y/n. 

She must have read my mind as she began to place delicate kisses along my collar bone and my neck. I placed my hands on her hips as she slowly began to grind on me. I started kissing her back and I felt myself melt into her. I felt like everything was going to be alright. In a way I felt like I needed this more than her. As much as I wanted to love and take care of Y/n I also needed someone to love me back. I don’t remember the last time I felt this way about anyone, I don’t remember kissing with such love and passion. As I let my hands roam on Y/n’s body I carefully removed her top. I took a second to admire her natural beauty. I  admired every scar, every beauty mark. I traced them all delicately, wanting to know the story behind them. Y/n noticed and asked “Is something wrong?” she looked scared, as if she got caught doing something bad. She whispered an “I’m sorry for scaring you” before she grabbing a blanket that was close by to cover herself up. Before I could say anything she was gone, running up the stairs to her room as the tears formed in her eyes. 

I was quick to follow her. I quietly knocked on her bedroom door, waiting for a response. “Go away” she mumbled. “I’m sorry Y/n. You didn’t do anything wrong” I told her “Just let me in so I can explain myself” As I entered Y/n’s room I was taken away from the decor. All of this was the complete opposite of what she portrayed on TV. The room was filled with light pastel colors. In the corner of the room sat a big comfy chair filled with old dolls and plushies. I couldn't believe my eyes. This was the side that was hidden from the world. Y/n didn’t even look at me, she sat on her bed with her back towards me. I sat next to her telling her how sorry I was for making her upset. “I should be the one that’s apologizing” she told me “Why should you apologize? You did nothing wrong” I reassured her. “This is what always happens, I find someone and they claim to like me even with all my flaws. Once they get a close enough look they get scared and run off” I didn’t quite understand where she was going with this. “Scared of what?” I asked “Scared of who I really am, scared of the scars I have hidden. Take a look around you, would you expect any of this from me?” “I actually I did. I knew that deep down inside something like this was hidden. That is the part I wanted to explore. Y/n I want to know the real you. I don’t care about any of the things you mentioned. I admire the way you carry your scars with pride. I want to know the story behind them all. I want to be the one that cleans your wounds not makes them” I gently wiped away the tears that fell from her face and apologized for making her upset once again. 

“I don’t deserve any of this” she told me “Yes you do, you deserve someone who loves you for who you are. I’ve never told anyone this before but me and you are more similar than you think. I take antidepressants too, I’m an alcoholic. I can’t sleep at night because the voices in my head won’t shut up. I was too focused on getting to know the real you that I haven’t even got the chance to know the real me” I could see the look in Y/n’s eyes soffen at my words. I removed my shirt and pointed to a faded scar on my left arm. “You see this, I did this. We are the same” I told her. “You’ve seen my matches Y/n. Just like you I live for the taste of my own blood. I love the way it feels. I haven’t felt things in a long time, I too use wrestling as an escape. I’m going to challenge Mox to a Texas death match so I can feel something inside. When I’m with you I feel like I can tell you anything. I can be myself. I feel safe, I feel at peace, I feel at home. I can tell that you will be my new home” I didn’t even notice the tears that fell from my face until Y/n kissed them away. “I love you too,” She told me. 

The two of us ended the night cuddled up in bed underneath the warm covers. I held Y/n close as she slept. It took me a while to fall asleep, I listened to the rain and thunder as I took in the moment. As I looked at Y/n I couldn't help the warm fuzzy feeling in my chest. She was at peace. We didn’t sleep together that night but we didn’t need to. When that moment would arrive I wanted to take my time and savor it. It would be a healing experience for the both of us. Never in my life did I feel so calm, so at peace. I knew that everything would be okay. I too was touch deprived. All this was was skin on skin contact, my bare chest on hers as we fell asleep feeling so loved. I loved this woman so much. I would do anything for her and I knew she would do anything for me. The dark side of the moon is used to describe something mysterious and unknown. The dark side of the moon is supposed to be the side we never see, the side that faces away from Earth. Somehow I was able to find that in Y/n. I found the light side in her heart and I wouldn't take it for granted. 

[tricitymonsters]

DAY 9 - Mind Control

Day 9 - Mind Control

Amir x Reader

Content Warning: Consensual mind control, fantasies of being bred, straight up fucking, dom/sub tones

PREVIOUS

You knew Amir had weird powers that allowed him to exert a potent kind of influence on his targets but you didn’t know it was this strong.

Like everything about Amir, what seems beautiful and harmless on the surface is violently dangerous just below where dark depths hide a frightening amount of power.  But of course, you have nothing to fear from him.  Of course, you trust him.  He’s put his neck on the line for you several times and slowly, you’re growing closer to him as he learns to open up to you.

But of course, when you agreed to some horny mind control games you didn’t expect him to exert so much on you… or rather… you didn’t expect it to be SO easy for him.

He simply grabs your chin and levels you with a direct but affectionate stare, the corners of his lips quirking slightly.  You’ve seen him do his mind control trick a few times and just like you expect, you can feel the hazy, magnetic pull start to pick up in strength as Amir injects his will directly into your brainstem.

”Feel good?”

You nod, vision blurring and limbs feeling a little heavy.  Otherwise, however, you note that you do feel fine.  If you didn’t know any better you'd say you were just tired.  But once Amir establishes that link it’s ironclad until he lets go.

And damn him he started slow enough just to give you a false sense of security.

At first, all you could think about is how empty you feel… how bad you need to fill your hole with hot cock with a strength that kind of makes you sweat.  And the most disorienting thing is that while you can still feel that the idea planted in your head isn’t yours, you still feel it with full physical conviction.

An hour passes and Amir’s control has fully taken root.  You’d groveled on your face to be bred for nearly half of it, drunk on images of you stuffed to bloating filled with hot cum, and praised for taking it like you were made to.  After that hour, you’re convinced you were made for it.  Why else would you be babbling insensibly and ardently slamming yourself back on Amir’s dick while you drool and sweat.  Not only is the physical intimacy doing it but Amir’s control has opened the floodgates for every positive neurotransmitter in your brain to flood your whole consciousness with exhilaration and raw joy.  He’s got you bent in half over the bed and you fight the grip he has on your hair not to escape but to fuck back onto him as hard as you can.  You were meant to be full up and every withdrawal has your whole body screaming with the need for him to put it back harder deeper just more more more.

Every time he nails that one little spot inside of you your whole body clenches greedily down on him and the shock of pleasure nearly makes you giggle deliriously.  

You faintly have to hand it to Amir, he’s got a lot of stamina for someone who looks like they prefer to lounge on velvet cushions than exert themselves.  But you can feel his cock swell in you and it sends you into throes.  You need his cum so bad you can’t talk, just moan wetly and grind down on him harder and harder.  Mentally, you’re screaming for him.  Please cum in you, please you need it, you need to be absolutely distended with it so everyone knows, so anyone who looks at you sees a claimed, happy fuckpet doing a good job.

The only downside to these mental plays that Amir so kindly puts on for you is that you still usually remember- in lurid detail- all the deranged horny thoughts he manages to pull from the ether and when you lay next to him, sweaty and exhausted and starting to feel the tinge of embarrassment from post-nut clarity, he simply smirks, kisses your temple, then tells you he’d be happy to broadcast your status as claimed and happy and full of cum if you ever decide on your own that’s something you want.  You feel this justifies hitting him with a pillow.

[ellsieee]

Most of my reaction thoughts for Blue Boys ep 8 are here, but I wanted to add a couple more thoughts.

Did Suk stick the landing? I think they did. I was satisfied they gave us a happy ending that was sweet, believable, and logical. Although the Taeha arc was stomach turning to watch, it helped Jaemin understand himself better and realize how much he loved Nami. The only real gripe I have with the conclusion of the Taeha arc is that we still don't entirely understand why Jaemin was shaken by Taeha. Was it only because he was physically attracted to him? Or was Taeha right when he said Jaemin was lonely?

If Jaemin is lonely with such an attentive boyfriend, then there are deeper issues here. I wish they could have addressed this and had Nami and Jaemin talk it out. That would have made everything feel more complete. One of Blue Boys' weaknesses is its episode length. In both episode 4 and 7, the audience is never completely clear about what Jaemin is thinking and why he does what he does. If only we had more time.

I liked Nami and Jaemin's reconciliation scene even though I've seen a lot of comments disappointed with Jaemin's apology.

I can understand that, Jaemin only said sorry and didn't really explain himself. However, I think Jaemin has always been like that. I feel like this is him being sincere and being truly sorry. I do wish we got to see him grovel, but it was never going to happen. Nami loves him too much to let him.

NAMIIIIII!🫠🫠🫠 Nami loves Jaemin so much. Nami played with Jaemin's ear again. 😊 I may have made giddy squealing sounds here. I've seen some comments hating on Jaemin because it's always Nami that "sacrifices" in the relationship. It's Nami who went after Jaemin after Sol, and it's Nami who is forgiving Jaemin after Taeha. I don't think we can expect relationships to be so transactional. It's not always going to be a "fair" 50/50 split. Sometimes, there is someone who loves more in a relationship, so they will be doing more of the coaxing and heavy lifting. What Nami does for Jaemin is not a sacrifice to him, and I think that's beautiful and very sweet.

It means so much to Nami that Jaemin said I love you first! I completely agree with @ddeohaming that Hoolim nailed it with his subtle facial expressions.

🫠🫠 I loved the exchange of I love yous. 🫠🫠 After all that stress Suk put us through, this is the ending we deserve. Despite all that has happened between them, Nami and Jaemin's bond is stronger than ever and I love that for them.

No Blue Boys reaction post is complete without bringing up how good Nami and Jaemin's kisses are.

I love this kiss so much. I love the light shining down from above giving the kiss an ethereal feel. I love how gentle, yet full of desire the kiss is. I love the way Nami cradles Jaemin's face. I love the way they suck on each other's lips. I love it all.

I could watch them kiss forever. So sensual. So hot.

One of the strangest takes I've seen about the finale are from the people who wanted a BE. They feel that Jaemin "mentally cheated" on Nami by being shaken by Taeha and having that horny dream about him. They feel like Jaemin is a horrible person and a cheater who doesn't deserve Nami. I try to respect all opinions, but this one is just weird to me. Having a dream about Taeha could very well represent something that's not even about Taeha at all. Cheating is a conscious act that requires acting on many decisions made together and not something that happens when you're asleep. Finding yourself attracted to someone while in a relationship is also not cheating as long as you don't act on that attraction. I admit Jaemin didn't exactly cover himself in glory with letting Taeha kiss him in the park, but he resolutely rejected Taeha after that and made sure it would never happen again, so I'll give him a pass on that one. It's not great, but not enough to make me write Jaemin off. I guess for the Jaemin haters, they wanted to see a fairy tale pure love rather than the more realistic messy love that Suk gave us.

I'm really going to miss Nami and Jaemin. I'm hoping another production (or even Suk again) will hire Hoolim and Seungjin again for another bl. Chances are slim, but their chemistry is too good to waste. Imagine what they could do in series with a budget and a decent runtime. I complain about too many acting pairs in Thai bl, but there aren't enough in kbl. Ever since we lost Jiwoong and Seobin, there hasn't been another kbl acting pair. Hoolim and Seungjin could fill that void. 🤡

[kangen-wanshi]

hello could you write a one shot on Grusha where he falls in love with a shy challenger who is chilly and owns fire pokemons please

Audience ft Grusha

Grusha has met a lot of trainers who come to Glasedao to challenge his gym before. You might be the one who finally ignites his interest in battle after a long time.

Tags: fluff, reader has a pyroar

"Are you alright?"

You flinched, nearly tripping on the snow if it's not for your Pyroar who you've been leaning on for the past couple of minutes.

This seems to have surprised the stranger as well. His hands instinctively went over in case you fell, only for you to never reach neither his arms nor the ground.

"Y- yeah! Yes. Mhm." You quickly answered, still holding onto your pyroar as you tried your best to not look at the stranger.

You've been trying to avoid talking to random people so far, by hiding behind your pyroar. You're only here to challenge the gym. No need to hold a conversation with anyone, right? Right. The gym test is over so.. There's no way no one would pull something like the event back in Levincia.

Pulling you out from your massive worrying train of thought, the man cleared his throat in an attempt to possibly gather his own composure back. Without looking at him, you know he still has his attention on you.

"I saw you.. Standing here for a long time now. Not particularly doing anything. Are you..—"

"No- no! I'm not someone weird I promise-" you cut him off, now slightly panicking just from the first few words he spouted from his mouth. "I'm just uh.. Waiting for the gym leader! The lady at the front says they should be here so uh, I'm.. Waiting for them.."

You slowly let your words die down as you finally looked up to him. At first glance he seems ethereal. Long lashes, big eyes and beautiful blue hair. Had it not been his rather heavy voice, you would assume that the person standing before you is a lady of sorts.

".. As I was saying." He doesn't seem surprised by your sudden outburst. Which makes you embarrassed even more after being possibly caught staring.

"I was just informed of a challenger waiting for me, so naturally, I was about to confirm whether you're the new challenger or not."

Oh.

"It seems like you are, though. By your bold confession." He chuckled.

You can feel your cheek heating up. Not sure if it's because your Pyroar is nudging you, or because the man's small laughter is absolutely melting your heart with his closed eyes smile.

It may sound weird for someone you just met but.. You really want to see his smile now.. 

"Uh- Ah, Yeah I, I guess that's me." You nervously chuckled back. "Well there's.. Not a lot of people out here in Glasedao so.. I guess that would be pretty obvious, huh?"

"Mm. News go 'round fast here though. I'm sure some people will come to watch the battle." He hummed, tugging his scarf up before walking past you towards the battle arena.

Wait more people-?

You thought you could escape the crowd and fight the gym leader in peace, unlike every other battle that occurred before. But it seems like fame will follow every challenger that steps into the field.

"Don't worry, we'll end it quickly." He immediately continued, catching you off guard as you peeked up to him standing next to a Cetoddle. "You don't seem like the type who likes crowds much, don't you? If you want, we can end the battle quickly before people can gather around. And besides, your friend there seems like they're eager to fight."

His Cetoddle chirped at your Pyroar, which triggers a low growl as it turns to you.

You can't really tell how he figure that out so quickly, but with the glint in his eyes, and possibly the smile hidden underneath his scarf, you can tell that when he said you'll end the battle quick, it won't necessarily mean that he'll let your fire fellow melt all of his team with ease.

Somehow with just a nudge from your lion pokemon, and the gym leader pulling out his own pokemon, the trainer senses you kicked in, and you're ready to end this battle quickly so you don't have to deal with the crowd.

Unbeknownst to you, the gym receptionist who has been watching your interactions from the sidelines smiles as he never sees Grusha so eager to battle a trainer before. Putting his phone back in his pocket, perhaps, the gym leader can battle without an audience for this one time.

[cdragons]

Revenant

Summary: Kol Mikaelson's soul manages to leave and travel while he still remains daggered in his coffin. While he wanders around and bitches about his life, he meets an unexpected friend. Warning(s): VERY HEAVY crack fic, technical crossover of fandoms, weird shit, Kol is a horny-ass gremlin, Druig & Kaety are obsessed with each other, Kol has a thing for witches bc he got mommy issues, Klaus is a bitch

Note: Merry Christmas to all who celebrate it! This fic came from an idea that I shared with @ethereal-athalia, and it is VERY much a crack fic. I don't have any plans in continuing this idea, but I wanted to write it out as a Christmas gift to @ethereal-athalia for how much of a good friend she's been to me. I never would have been able to do any of my fics without her in my corner. I own only my Hecate!OC. I do not own either Druig from Eternals, or Kol from TVD franchise. Also, Druig still very much exists in this fic and world bc I physically CANNOT write Kaety without Druig. Stay safe and hope that your upcoming year brings you all good health and happiness!

Kol hated being dead. Truly dead. Dead in a way that he couldn’t move or speak or live.

At least when he turned as a gift Mother Dearest he could still walk, even if he couldn’t use the arcane anymore. But of course, he would still always find his way back to witches and their magic. He couldn’t help it if he exuded that charm that made him so irresistible.

Gods, just remembering how pathetically sex-deprived his physical form was currently almost made him weep. He couldn’t wait until the moment he got that fucking silver dagger out of his chest. Nik was going to get it when he finally got out.

Sure, he may have crossed a line when he stated that Nik had a pair of buttocks flatter than a sheet of paper. But was he the one that gave his brother such lacking assets? No. That fault lied entirely with their mother and his biological father, thank you very much.

But alas, here his soul was, walking in a forest in the middle of some mosquito-flooded country.

At the very least, his gorgeous body was safe from the onslaught of bug bites and sweltering humidity. Only in the fucking Amazon did winter feel like summer.

Kol audibly groaned once more at the thought of his immaculate figure rotting away thanks to Nik. He couldn’t bear to think about how his illustrious fair skin being that dull grayish hue from being confined by death. At least when Bekah got daggered, Nik had the decency to make sure that her body remained stored in proper conditions and carefully encased in magic to prevent any harm coming to her. He had no guarantee. No, such love and devotion only went to ‘Lijah and Bekah when it came to Nik.

Story of his life: always an outsider, even with his own fucking siblings. Gods, he wanted nothing more than have his powers return to him. At least with magic by his side he’d finally be able to show Nik he wasn’t the only one with threats, he’d show him, he’d –

“Well, well, well,” came a new voice, “aren’t you a strange sight?”

Kol immediately turned his head to locate the mindless idiot that dared to interrupt his thoughts. Did humans devolve so pathetically that they no longer understood that when they see a soul wandering alone, that soul would likely be uninterested in any attempts of conversation? But looking at the individual who spoke to him, he was shocked beyond himself to witness such a devastatingly gorgeous woman before him. She had dark almond-shaped eyes and tall with legs that went on for miles. And her thick and illustrious raven waves practically flowed down the middle of her back like a black waterfall.

Dare he say it, this woman was almost as beautiful than him.  

But regardless of how pleasing her outward appearance may be, she still would not be spared from his fury.

Pity, he would have loved to wrap those legs around his waist if he were actually here.

The corners of the woman’s lips went upward, and the cupid’s bow of her mouth was slightly pursed as she smirked, making her lips look plumper and more bitable than how they had right to be in the Original’s opinion. It was only a few seconds before the succubus burst out laughing. Her entire body arched with her back as she simply couldn’t contain herself.

“I’m sorry,” she said once he began to calm down, “but I’m afraid that I happen to be very happily married. In fact, I have been for the past near seven thousand years.” After making a quick glance up and down Kol’s near transparent form, she continued with a cat-like grin. “And I highly doubt someone as woefully young as you could satisfy a woman like me.”

Oh, now he was offended. Not being able to satisfy– did this woman have any idea who she was talking to? The list of names of men and women that swore they only believed in Heaven when Kol fucked them was so long that it would wrap the Earth twice. And she better believe than each time was more than consensual – they were begging him very enthusiastically to say the least. Who was this lady to assume –

Wait, did she say seven thousand years?

As if she could hear his thoughts, all the woman did was smiled before extending her hand.

“I think I’d like it very much if you and I became friends.”

Extending his own, Kol was surprised to see that his hand didn’t just pass through like it normally would for most physical objects. He could actually grasp her hand and feel the warmth passing through it. For the first time in…forever, Kol felt warmth flooding through him. He stared into her eyes, wondering how on Earth someone could live for seven thousand years. Even if she had the gift of mediumship, his presence was too well-hidden for even the most gifted and powerful medium to sense him.

Kol had to know more of her. He’d go mad if he didn’t.

“What are you exactly?” he carefully asked.

He could sense that this person was a being of extreme power. In the top of her finger, she likely contained far more power than Nik could possibly imagine, even in his wildest dreams. It seemed that being an invisible soul floating in the wind had its perks after all. If he was alive, walking and about, he’d never come across this marvel of a woman.

“I’d prefer if you began that question with ‘who’ than ‘what,’ but I suppose that matters little in this situation. My name is Kaetlyn, I prefer Kaet for my friends, but you may know me better as-”

“Hekate,” he whispered in awe, “Goddess of Magic. Titaness Mother of Witches and Monsters.”

“Surprised in a good way I hope?” Kaet asked with one brow raised.

“More or less, but I did imagine you about 30 feet taller with the night sky for skin and two more heads.”

“Well,” she softly chuckled, “I hope I didn’t disappoint you with my appearance. Now I’ll forgive you just this once for interrupting me. But only if you allow me to take you to my home.”

“Oh?” Kol asked, a salacious grin spreading across his face. Now things were getting interesting.

“Save it Kol Mikaelson-” ordered the ancient goddess as she raised her hand to her face as she pointed at him in warning- “I am taking you to the village that I run with my husband. So, I suggest that you keep your hands to yourself because he has a nasty little habit of being showing exactly how off-limits I am to youngsters such as yourself.”

“I never told you my-”

“You were once a witch, and I am the mother of magic. All witches and their magic came from me, including you.”

It really was so unfair how good she looked while talking over him. Oh well, he might as well play along. Finally, something interesting was happening in his life.

“So, who is this husband of yours, darling? And how can you be so sure that your husband could be a threat to me? You know who I am, what I became. What makes you so sure that once I enter your village, I won’t use my ghostly ways to end him.”

When Kol finished, he immediately felt a shift in the air. It was as if the sun had disappeared and the jungle went silent. It seemed that the animals that served as their audience went dead silent as if they were in anticipation for his end. The kind and amiable mirth of the chthonic witch shifted to dangerous and cold.

Kol had lived for over 700 years and after everything he done and witnessed, he had never felt such chill run down his spine.

“Listen well,” she began – her tone laced with the power and authority that came from someone of her position, “I won’t try to humor you with answering that ridiculous question, nor do I intend to let you presume that my kindness can be mistaken for naivety. My husband is one with abilities as ancient and powerful as mine. If you truly knew what he was capable of, you’d be far more terrified of him than you ever were of your father. That being said, if you ever try to threaten my husband or even think about go so far to joke about it again, I promise you that I can produce torture and incite fear that would make the devil weep in pity for you.”

Oh fuck, even as a ghost, Kol should not have been as aroused by her threats as he was in that moment.

But soon the tension dissipated and warmth from the sun returned to pass through him once more.

“Now that we have that matter cleared up, we really should get going. The sun’s about to set and you never know what or who would be lurking at night.”

With that being the final word, The Good Lady of the Night and Shadows turned around and made her way back to where he presumed to be the location of her home village. And what else could he do but follow her by how the slight sway of her hips seemed to beckon him.

Threats and chills mixed a beautiful witch with magic more ancient than time itself, Kol couldn’t remember the last time he felt so alive.

Authors' Note: And when Kol enters the village, he tries to flirt with Kaet in front of Druig like a dumbass, and his soul gets a major ass-whooping.

Tagging: @ethereal-athalia, @valeskafics, @klauslove, @carolineforbae, @misssophiachase

Reblog and comment and like and share to anyone you think may like to read this fic!

[archangel-seraphiel]

Love of my life

Crowley X Nephalem!Reader (f) X Aziraphale

Warnings: Angst, sadness, comfort, leading to fluff and maybe light smut in the next parts

Part 1

English isn't my first language, please pardon me. This is my first story, too!

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

The stars shimmered on the velvet night sky as you sat on the balcony of your apartment, all alone. The feathers of your softly glittering wings gently swayed in the fresh breeze, silence put its heavy blanket around you.

You held onto your cup of hot chocolate, gazing at the sky. A sigh escaped your lips. You felt alone.

You never really had a family; you were a mistake, something that shouldn't have been born in the first place. Nephalem like you were rare, for the reason that they usually got rid of as soon and fast as possible. But at the point, they weren't aware of what you were.

Nephalem are Angel-Demon-offsprings with immense powers. You couldn't care less though. You never wanted to side with either one of them, and just wanted peace. Which is why you led a normal life, among humans. Only in solitude and night you would spread your wings in comfort.

After a while, you fell asleep on your cozy seat, drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

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

You walked through London, early in the morning. The park wasn't so crowded yet, you enjoyed that. You sat down on a bench, taking out a book from your bag to read.

You forgot about time, and probably sat there for hours. You didn't even notice the lots of people that went past you, alone, with friends or with their dogs.

"Would you mind if I sit here?" A voice said. It wasn't the voice that disrupted you, but rather the aura the Person was surrounded by. Definitely not human. You looked up from your book to see a man dressed in a light suit and a friendly smile. "Of course, take a seat" you said and shifted a little to the side to provide more space. "Thank you, mylady" he said, and sat down. "I see you have quite a good taste in books." You glanced over to the man. You weren't really set up for a conversation, you were quite shy around strangers. "Oh, I kind of read anything I get my hands on." A simple answer from your side. You felt his aura so strong at this point, you knew what he was.

An angel. But what does he want from you? Did they find you? Does heaven want to cage you in now? You started to get nervous, your head exploding with questions. The man seemed to notice. "Did I say something wrong?" He asked concerned as you quickly got up and left, without even saying goodbye. He got up too but didn't follow. "Wait, miss, your book!" He said, reaching a hand out after you. But you were off into the nowhere already.

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

-Aziraphale's POV-

"Crowley, she was most definitely a rarity. Believe it or not, I'm sure she is more than just an angel" Aziraphale said to his friend, who sat opposite to him in a cafe. He was so struck by meeting you this morning, he had to tell Crowley right away about it. "And? Even if, why would we care. There's lots of weird ethereal beings out and about." The demon said, taking a sip of his espresso. "No, not like that. She beamed of angelic grace but something was off. She seemed scared of me. I know that she must have felt my angelic presence." Aziraphale was concerned. He was sad that he might have scared you away.

He saw you in the park and immediately caught interest in you. Your whole being drew him in like a beautiful piece of art. "Aziraphale. Stop overthinking about it. It's just a girl you thought was cute, that's all." Crowley sighed. "There is no such thing as angel-mix-whatever-thingies. They get eliminated as soon as birth happened, if not before already." Crowley must be right, Azira thought. They changed conversations, but Azira just couldn't get you out of his mind. "I need to give that girl her book back."

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

-Your POV-

After the Meeting with the angel, which was your first in thousands of years, your mind went crazy. You fled to your apartment, closed off everything and hid in your bed. You were scared. Scared as you've never been. Trembling and heavily breathing. You always tried to surpress your aura as good as possible. Was it not hidden well enough this time? Has it really come to an end for you now?

On the other side, he didn't seem like he wanted to harm you. He would've acted right away if he was to take you in for heaven. You remember his eyes, and his beautiful aura. You lost yourself in the memory of his eyes for a moment before you shook your head. Are you going crazy now? A stranger angel you see for the first time, and you already fall for their eyes? You let yourself fall back, laying straight on your back.

You probably overreacted, you thought, as you warmed another cup of cocoa later. It was your save haven after stressy days. With the cup in your hand you went to your window. It was rainy tonight. Typical weather. No stars to be seen, just clouds. A sky as clouded as your mind.

You sat down on the soft carpet, and with a light fluffy sound your wings spread across the room. Unlike most others, you had 6 Wings instead of two. A little bit like the Seraphim. 2 on your head, 2 on your back and 2 on your lower back. They were slightly transparent, of silky white colour. The tips of the wings faded into darkness, with glittering spots like the most beautiful stars one could imagine. But except you, noone has ever seen them.

You wrapped your wings around you, covering your eyes and body. You always liked to imagine it as a hug that you've never gotten. And with that hug, your day had ended. But this time, you wouldn't sleep dreamless, but rather with the image of a certain angel in your head.

..

You decided to get your mind off the happenings of yesterday and took a stroll through the city. You were a mousy, yet pretty lady. You didn't want to attract too much attention.

You came across a certain bookshop you always felt drawn to, but never dared going in. It seemed like a shop with not too many customers, so whoever owned it would surely notice you.

But today you took all your confidence and went in. With a little ring above your head you entered and got greeted by a friendly "Hello! Have a look around, I'll be with you right away!" You froze.

The voice was all too familiar.

The voice was now accompanied by a figure coming from behind the shelves, and your guess was right.

"Oh, it's you again!" The man beamed, coming closer. "Please don't leave right away, I didn't want to scare you. You forgot your book, too!"

You felt overrun, but were too struck to leave now. "oh uh... thank you.. I'm sorry for yesterday I... I didn't mean to run away like that" you stammered, looking to the ground. He stepped closer. "My name is Aziraphale. Would you mind sharing your name with me?" "(Y/n)." You said, looking him straight in the eyes. "You're a principality, yes? Guardian of the eastern gate?" The words spilled out of your mouth. Did you really just ask that? Aziraphale blinked surprised. "Well yes, I certainly am. But how do you know that? Are you an angel too?" He knew you were, stupid question. "Uh, kinda.." you scratched your head. "I don't like talking about it. It's a rough topic." And with that the door of the bookshop flew open, a red headed man bursting in. "Angel, there's a demon in your bookshop I sense it!" He growled, furrowed his brows and stared right at you. And this was the moment you wanted to snap your fingers and sink into the ground. "But Crowley, she's an angel!" Aziraphale protested. Crowley came closer, surely not trusting you. "What in hell's name are you, girl?" You sighed, sadly. Just as you thought, you met a nice ethereal being like you, it got destroyed again. "A Nephalem."

Silence.

"Who were your parents?" He straightened up, glaring at you. "Crowley that is none of your business!" Aziraphale said, standing protectively in front of you. You smiled a little at that, but stepped forward to face the demon. "My mother was Jophiel. My father, I don't know. I am no harm to anyone, I just want peace. I'm sorry if I bothered." You explained, bowing your head a little. You knew, compared to them you're just a little youngling and had to show some respect. You were merely about 2000 years old.

Silence laid heavily on the bookshop. Crowley and Aziraphale looked at each other. Aziraphale went up to you and took your hands. "We aren't bothered by you. After this whole Armageddon thing we're just.. cautious. But I felt right away you are no harm."

Crowley came closer to you now too, eyed you up and down. "Sorry mylady. I didn't mean to be rude, just making sure you ain't here to turn us into mincemeat."

You smiled lightly. This could be the beginning of a great friendship.

[chowaya]

Monoma headcannons :

— as much as most people think it would be toxic with dating Monoma, they would be wrong. I can see complications but that's all settled if the chance to communicate and set boundaries was given and taken.

— forces you to watch the Lord of the rings franchise and the hobbit but still talks over the movie. ( probably to explain some heavy detailing and differences between the books )

— had a weird style phase, he finds it embarrassing but shoves it off by saying it was a needed canon event to develop such expertise and taste as him. So he finds ways to match your outfits even when your styling and aesthetic is different from each other.

— is more likely to have piercing than tattoos.

— has sticky notes all over his room that contain context from all sorts of quirks and the techniques to use them, mathematics formulas, history notes, lyrics or poems, favourite lines from books he's read or some incoherent affirmation that he's the hottest and the best.

— hated conflict as a child now, now he stirs all the pot that is available to him. And does he give a sht? Not really.

— popular among the girls because of his eyelashes. They're somewhat in love and jealous at the same thing.

— not a dog or cat person but a bugs and snake person. Had hyper fixations on moths and reptilians— he will talk to you about them if he trusts you enough to not make fun of him. But will elaborate with heavy detail if you find either of them disgusting or scary— just to annoy you.

— doesn't like gift giving that much. Prefers forms of affections from physical touch ( secretly ) , acts of service ( high on this) and lowkey quality time. He prefers giving words of affirmation rather than receiving only because he doesn't know how to react.

— but if gift giving is someone's love language who is he to give that person an opinion of his. He's not hellbent on hating it. Truly adores it if the gift is well thought through or handmade— he values the time and soul of others that put into it.

— finds waist beads, belly cabins and belly piercings hot.

— has this concept that pale skinned people and dark skinned people look best under moonlight while tan and brown skins look best under the sun.

— a Swiftie that relates to 🧺🩹🗝🧸🪞🌿 but prefers 🍾💫🫧🎟🥂📸 music

— also listens to chase Atlantic. A blonde arrogant mean cocky guy that we all would know would totally be a flirt? It fits.

— if he would get a tattoo of his significant other, he would get a tattoo of their eyes.

— wants love, affection and attention and receiving it without having the feeling that he asked for it.

— sucks at mobile games, he's not interested in them that much.

— he prefers to not be around children, he thinks he isn't so experienced or good with them but he's literally a toddler magnet. Especially the real ones who spout whatever they think and the ones who're extremely quiet and shy.

— has divorced parents and is thankful for that everyday.

— will let 1-B girls or his significant other do his makeup, much more prefers if it's natural and enhances his features but he doesn't mind douyin or k-beauty makeup. He likes the glitters but hates heavy matte looks.

— amazing time management and is always early to things. That's canon at this point.

— and last but not least, he's the most amazing, spectacular, outstanding, gorgeous, pretty, ethereal, intelligent, showstopping boy. And I'm sad I don't have him 🫠

[mirrortouchedsea]

Kaoru gently guided Kanata out to the water, up to where it reached their hips. The waves lapped at their stomachs and Kaoru turned to face Kanata. 

“Alright Kanata-kun, you wanted to learn how to swim, right? The first thing you have to be able to do is float.” He let go of Kanata’s hand. “To float, you want to arch your back and spread your arms out like this,” he spread his own arms out, brushing Kanata’s arm with his fingertips. “It’ll feel weird at first but I won’t let you float away.” 

“Okay, I will ‘trust you’, Kaoru.” Kanata leaned back, grabbing Kaoru’s hand before lifting his legs. Kaoru saw Kanata’s body tense up at the sensation and his hands started floundering. 

“I got you, Kanata-kun, just relax,” Kaoru said softly, squeezing Kanata’s hand. Kanata let out a breath and tried to relax. Kaoru moved his other hand under Kanata’s back to stabilize him. “Just like that, okay?” 

“How do you feel?” He asked after Kanata was able to float on his own. 

“I feel…’free’.” Kanata chuckled. “That was ‘fun’, Kaoru.” 

“Alright, since you’ve mastered floating, I think we can move on to our last lesson for the day. Holding your breath underwater. You need to be able to control your breath when swimming, especially if you’re going to be diving.” 

Kaoru took in a breath and sank beneath the waves for a moment before rising up again. “Just like that, but for as long as you can, okay?” 

Kanata nodded and took a deep breath with Kaoru and the two boys dipped their heads beneath the surface. Kaoru’s heart beat heavy in his chest as he went over his plan one last time. He opened his eyes and was taken aback by how ethereal Kanata looked, his hair floating around him, eyes closed serenely. He let out the breath he was holding before closing his eyes again and reaching for Kanata’s face, pulling him closer until their lips met. The salty taste of the water mixed with the softness of Kanata’s lips on his own. 

Kanata leaned into the kiss, pulling Kaoru closer until the two of them had to surface for air. They were breathing heavily, Kaoru’s eyes already burning from the brief moment he had opened them under the water, but he wouldn’t trade the view of Kanata under the waves for anything. 

“Were you ‘planning’ to do ‘that’ all day, Kaoru?” Kanata asked. 

“M-maybe, and what about it?” Kaoru’s face flushed. 

Kanata pulled him in for another kiss, still tasting like the ocean. “You could have just ‘asked’ if you wanted a ‘kiss’.” 

--- 

A few hours later, as the two were heading home for the night, Kaoru’s eyes were still red and sore. He would probably need to get some of his eye drops out again and pray that they didn’t get some weird infection from the water. 

“Did you open your ‘eyes’ under the ‘water’, Kaoru?” 

Kaoru sighed. “You looked so pretty, how was I not going to look at you like that?” 

Kanata lightly punched Kaoru’s arm. 

“I’m hurt, Kanata-kun! Is it a crime to think my boyfriend is beautiful?” 

“Let’s just ‘go home’ and get some ‘eyedrops’ for you before you ‘dry out’, okay?” 

“Fine, but I want a kiss to make it feel better.” 

[tarisilmarwen]

Rebels Rewatch: "Twilight of the Apprentice"

The shadow of Malachor looms in the very highly-anticipated Season 2 finale.

Right, so, technically I've already liveblogged this before and you can go here for some of my more, ah, realtime reactions.

(Spoiler alert: There was a LOT of screaming.)

So for this and other episodes that I've already reacted to before I'm mostly going to be focusing more on commentary and meta observations and also my favorite bits and moments, music and animation, that kind of stuff.

Let's dive in!

Ooh right off the bat we have the more serious version of the "Shenanigans" cue.

I know this exchange here between Ahsoka and Rex is a callback to when they first met. So a heart stab for TCW fans.

One thing I notice about Malachor right away is how dead it looks, even from space. Just a featureless plain gray marble.

We get down to the surface and it's even eerier. In the middle of a giant crater there's this wide, unnaturally glasslike smooth plain, only broken up by weird towering stone monoliths.

Malachor's whole aesthetic leans very heavily into the idea and theme of descending into the Underworld, into a place of darkness and shadows where the light can't reach. Somewhere underground, somewhere full of devils and demons lurking in wait, with many hidden traps and temptations to stumble over.

Like the one Ezra triggers by touching the monolith lol.

This really isn't a survivable fall but whatever.

The Sith Temple is actually kind of beautiful in a stark, harsh, Gothic kind of way.

This whole environment is really excellently creepy and ethereal. The ceiling above recalls a night sky, the holes like pinprick stars casting beams of light down. The palate is almost colorless, mostly grays and blacks with some splashes of red and white. The lighting is muted and dim, heavy contrast with the shadows. The music relies on dissonant chords. The sound effects are full of watery rumbles, voices whisper quietly that apparently only Ezra can hear.

Oh and there's the scorched ground and statues of people frozen in distress, like the casts at Pompeii.

"To defeat your enemy, you have to understand them." A sentiment echoed and repeated later by both Maul and Thrawn, and inspired by the writings of Sun Tzu in his Art of War. You have to figure your enemy out, learn how they operate and what motivates them, in order to beat them. "Knowledge" is another word they keep using this episode, our heroes need to seek knowledge about the Sith in order to figure out how to defeat them.

I'm still not quite sure what knowledge they were actually able to gain during this trip. Certainly the Force did basically slap the truth of Vader's identity in Ahsoka's face, to get her to confront it and break through her denial. There's maybe a lesson to be learned about not seeking quick, easy solutions to one's problems, which wouldn't fully sink in until "Twin Suns". (Ezra's obsession with finding "the key to destroy the Sith" can be traced straight back to the Malachor plot thread.) There's definitely a cautionary tale and warning about the nature of the Dark Side, that Ezra completely ignores due to his guilt and shame and self-blame.

On the surface level, technically, the mission does accomplish what it set out to do. All the Inquisitors we know about wind up dead, Vader no longer has any interest in harassing them, they keep the base safe. But boy the cost of it all.

It's probably really fitting that the finale takes place here on Malachor, a dead world with nothing left but stone remains and a creepy Eldritch Sith Temple housing a superweapon that must have killed everyone and everything on the surface, in the vein of The Deplorable Word or a nuclear bomb metaphor. The victory is hollow and meaningless, because there is no one left alive to appreciate it. Likewise our heroes' "victory" is pyrrhic and empty, they kill the Inquisitors but take more and heavier losses in return.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. We haven't even met Eighth yet.

Hi Eighth!

He's not really developed or explored at all and is really just a generic episode-specific antagonist and ancillary to Seventh and Fifth, but he serves his narrative purpose in splitting the party.

Kanan's worried shout for Ezra after he falls. <3

Ezra looking very nervous here, don't blame him.

HI MAUL!

Oh man, the pre-finale trailers spoiled Maul's appearance and fandom was bonkers about it. (The pre-finale anticipation and hype was crazy man, so much over-analyzing and hypothesizing. There was a Bingo Card we could fill out with our theories. This one was mine.) Not a small amount of people were speculating about the possibility of Maul corrupting and/or abducting Ezra at Malachor.

I was one of them. Obviously. Still a smidge bummed it didn't come to pass, just imagine how devastating that would have been on top of everything else.

Anyway, Maul pretends to be frail and weak and old and harmless like some kind of sick parody of the scene in ESB when Yoda's introduced to Luke.

The appropriate reaction to creepy old men lurking in the shadows lol.

Maul plays on Ezra's compassion at first, and then tempts him with what they came for, "knowledge". Ezra keeps a guard up, but cautiously allows Maul to lead him. I think he's figuring he's going to play this by ear like he did back in "Brothers of the Broken Horn", so he's not giving out his name or really trusting Maul yet. That would come later.

Lol, Maul has met Jabba, he knows full well Ezra's playing him.

There's some excellent tense music for the chase with Eighth Brother but I'm not going to really talk about those segments much since, frankly, all the interesting stuff is happening in the Maul and Ezra scenes.

They're in the roots of the Temple now, very Mines of Moria-esque vibe down here with the columns.

Maul still trying to break Ezra's guard down, playing himself up as an enemy of the Inquisitors and the Sith (even though for all intents and purposes Maul still is a Sith) and I love how awkward things get when Ezra asks him if he was a Jedi, he's all like, "ERRRRRRMMMM."

Talking about his Tragic Backstory though unlocks Ezra's empathy and Ezra lets slip his own grievances with the Empire that Maul immediately tries to manipulate to his advantage, sensing Ezra's anger about it.

Boy if I had a nickel for every time my favorite shows explored the "creepy older villain forcibly trying to make a younger hero their apprentice" plotline...

(I would actually have three nickels now because the Big Hero 6 cartoon also decided to do that plot YOU GUYS GOTTA FIGURE OUT SOMETIME THAT THIS PREMISE IS BASICALLY CATNIP FOR ME.)

Anyway, at this point I think Maul's mostly just using Ezra as a means to an end, he's not planning to kidnap him yet, just needs him for the doors. It's really interesting that whereas the Jedi Temple on Lothal emphasized the individual journey and separated the master and padawan, the Sith Temple forces them into kind of a codependent symbiosis--if one betrays the other like Sith are wont to do, the prize is lost and both of them die--making them have to use teamwork and a certain level of trust.

Chopper stealing Eighth's TIE to use against him is pretty awesome, admittedly.

Maul gives Ezra an abridged lesson in Sith/Dark Side philosophy: Channel your passions--your fear, anger, hate, any strong emotions etc.--through the Force for a lot of quick easy power. Ezra expresses misgivings but attempts it and this time does not immediately pass out, though he's clearly tired by the end of it.

Oh man the sound design here.

Also love that annoyed look Maul gives when Ezra complains about their progress. XD

"Yeah I'm killing you after this, I don't have to deal with this shit."

Watching the expressions on Maul's face is a trip, you can see the subtle little flashes of conniving and triumph.

Aaaaaand every time Maul puts his hands on Ezra I still feel an immediate uncomfortable protective rage. You leave him alone you cockroach. >:(

Enjoy the last vestiges of Ezra's innocence folks, this episode is what shatters that to pieces.

Always loved this sequence, it feels very evocative of the Cave of Wonders segment of Aladdin and also several scenes in Raiders of the Lost Ark.

SO much symbolism with the precipices and pits here.

Love this music cue too.

I already noted in a different post way back when that something subtle I love is how Maul's Force Grip catch around Ezra is clearly much rougher than how Kanan has caught him. Ezra's tiny panicked glances down are great too.

So riiiiiiiiiight about here is when I think Maul decided he was going to keep Ezra, you can see in his expression the mean satisfaction when he grabs the holocron, like he's gotten what he wanted. Ezra gets a prolonged moment of regretting all of his life's decisions before Maul finally decides to haul him up.

Look I know fandom makes fun of the helicopter sabers but I never minded them so this is my only comment about them.

Gah, Ezra's innocent little uncertain expressions here always hurt me.

You know, given the added context of TCW Seaason 7, along with the fact that they had already clearly integrated the unfinished arcs into the background continuity while writing Rebels, AHSOKA YOU SHOULD HAVE REALLY WARNED THEM ABOUT MAUL.

Cool shot is cool.

I haven't talked about the music much because it doesn't really stand out until the climax but it's appropriately menacing and dramatic and ominous, as it should be.

Sam Whitwer's vocal progression through the episode is also amazing, along with the slow shedding of his hood it's like Maul is revitalizing himself, reinvigorated, reclaiming his strength and purpose.

He found something (Ezra) to hang his legacy on and seized it. Or tried to.

Ezra sounds just a bit desperate to convince Kanan, this is likely a product of the straining tensions between them. Maul, meanwhile, takes full advantage of Ahsoka and Kanan's uncertainty to suggest using the holocron to activate the obelisk, not telling them of course that it will turn on the Sith superweapon. Which he's counting on to kill Vader and the Inquisitors.

Ezra's theme in cello bass here, as Kanan decides to trust Ezra.

Almost forgot about Seventh's ID-9 Seekers, didn't we?

Love Kanan's protective bitchiness towards Maul this whole episode. The conflict between him and Ezra is just a little bit contrived, Kanan's been harder on Ezra recently yes, but it also feels a smidge rushed. Then again Ezra's been fixating on trying to solve the fundamental problem of the Inquisitors possibly as a way to assuage his grief over losing his parents, like Anakin he thinks if he can maybe just get enough power he can prevent it from happening again, so he's letting his impulsiveness reign in the quest to find "the key to destroying the Sith" and it's making him have a repeat of "Vision of Hope" where he trusts the wrong person.

Ezra's bright little, "Trust me." here hurts so much because Kanan does trust Ezra, that's the only reason why he decided they would stay and then it all goes HORRIBLY WRONG *SOBS*.

This is a nice sentiment and all Ahsoka, and it shows how much faith you have in Ezra's goodness and Kanan's ability as a teacher BUT ALSO YOU SHOULD HAVE WARNED THEM.

Ezra's out of sight for like a minute and Maul's already picking at his insecurities and need for validation and trying to get him to murderize Seventh.

The momentary pride we feel that Ezra can't bring himself to strike in anger and hate vanishes when Maul tests the veeeeeery limits of the Y7 rating.

Ooof.

I hate this man I hate this man I hate this man I hate him so much. He snarls at Ezra for hesitating, berates his merciful Jedi instincts, and then picks up with that soft manipulative fake concerned tone again. He always uses this tone when he's trying to manipulate Ezra, we'll be watching for it next season, trust me.

Hhggnnl Maul glancing up and seeing the shadow passing over the gaps in the ceiling, he knows Vader's on his way. And he's definitely already made the decision that he's taking Ezra.

Love this brief triumphant cue here, for a moment it looks like they've won.

The matching "Oh crap" expressions on Kanan and Ahsoka's faces when Maul says, "You mean... my apprentice?" they are just a hair too late to prevent disaster.

Yeah so this moment pretty much traumatized fandom. For months.

DUEL OF THE FATES BABY!

And a very unhinged Maul getting a little too excited about using the Sith superweapon to kill everyone.

The presence in the holocron is likely a trace of the Sith Lord who created the superweapon, Darth Tanis.

Sound design appreciation moment, just LISTEN to it.

"The power will be mine! Ezra will be mine!" Very hinged. Much sane. If you had waited maybe five minutes, Maul, and resisted the urge to murder everyone you could have actually had what you wanted! But such is the nature of the Dark Side, the quick and easy way offers fast solutions but hollow ones, in the grasping for what you want it slips through your fingers.

ALL MAUL HAD TO DO WAS NOT TRY TO MURDER KANAN AND AHSOKA AND EZRA PROBABLY WOULD HAVE GONE WITH HIM. At the very least Kanan might have tentatively let Maul hang around. This is the tragedy of Maul's life, he is the king of self-sabotage.

[Insert ramble about the symbolism of Kanan taking up a Temple Guardian mask and how that relates to his role as Ezra's protector.]

I don't remember I think there was maybe one or two people who complained that Kanan shouldn't be able to beat Maul here, but for the most part fandom was agreed that this was awesome.

:(((

Please do note: Maul just kind of... assumed Ezra would use the Sith superweapon when he learned what it was. Ezra's too pure for that, alas.

WELL THAT'S NOT ABSOLUTELY TERRIFYING.

Ezra sassing Vader like Kanan sassed the Grand Inquisitor back in "Call To Action" lol.

And there goes Ezra's blaster-saber. :(

I've been a very good girl conserving my limited photos so now you get a lot of Ezra's terrified face.

The Ahsoka-Vader confrontation is pretty much perfect, even for someone who never really watched TCW and doesn't really have the same level of investment as a long time fan would have. Even without the context the emotions and drama come across well.

Ezra veeeeeeerrrrrrrry slowly and carefully trying to scoot away from Vader always makes me giggle.

Vader threatening to torture the information out of Ezra if Ahsoka won't give up any remaining Jedi she knows about. :(((

:((((((((

Still love how TCW recontextualized Ahsoka's angry, "I am no Jedi!" by reframing it as, "I can't be a Jedi anymore, you took that away from me, you killed the Order I loved and wanted to return to!"

I think I heard someone trying to describe Vader here as, "Picture an upright locomotive with a lightsaber." and that's apt, Vader is so heavy and powerful with every movement and swing. This is Vader in his prime, unleashed, against an opponent he won't hold back on and it is glorious.

Chopper guiding Kanan by the hand. :(((

Ezra's horrified realization. :(((((

Small note: Ezra's been nursing his right wrist this whole time, possibly sprained or burned a bit when Vader destroyed his saber. Also a nice parallel to ESB and Luke.

Ahsoka does her best but you can tell she's tiring here.

Some gorgeous animation as the Temple begins to seal back up.

How annoyed do you think Vader must have been to have a blind half-trained ex-Padawan and a scrawny 16-year-old kid managing to fight his Force Pull on the holocron?

Ahsoka swoops in for a Big Damn Heroes moment and breaks open his mask. You're welcome for the nightmares, kids.

Hello so many parallels to Luke and Return of the Jedi.

:(((((

Very effective bringing the orchestra full to the fore with almost no other sound or dialogue here. This whole sequence is brutally powerful.

Kanan and Hera's heartbreaking reunion. The sorrow on Rex's face, feeding into Ezra's clear guilt. Maul surviving to menace us another day. Vader limping off, out of the wreckage of the Temple. Tracking the convor as it flies towards the vague form of Ahsoka descending further into the Temple. The cut to the Ghost with everyone's silent worry and sorry. And closing on Ezra's murderous Kubrick Stare as he gets the holocron to open.

This finale is on people's favorite episode lists for a reason, lol. It's so dramatic and game-changing and tightly-written, leaves us perfectly fuming in anticipation for more.

You know how shows promise that, "Nothing will be the same anymore." in taglines to trick you into watching for the Next Big Twist? Rebels actually delivers on that promise.

It's an amazing ride.

Overall Season Thoughts:

Season Two is stronger than Season One in a lot of aspects. The animation is even prettier with the added budget, the stories remain well-balanced and woven together even with the added breathing room of twenty-two episodes to Season One's fifteen. The show takes advantage of that extra room to build up the finale, especially in the last few episodes, to very good effect. The expanded scope means we're facing bigger and greater threats, and also widening our cast, and yet none of the guest stars overshadow or overpower our mains, who are given plenty of chances to develop and shine.

Aside from one minor misstep in "Blood Sisters", this season is solid through and through.

Onwards to Season Three!

[rjmartin11]

Elvis & Echo

Pairing: Elvis and the mythical Nymph Echo

Summary: Elvis meets a beautiful young girl who only speaks by repeating the last three words spoken to her.

Word Count:???

Warnings:

Author's Notes: Hey people! So, this tale has been on heavy on my mind. I love Greek mythology tales of love, power, sorrow, tradition, and morals.

One story that broke me when I first read it is the story of Echo and Narcissius. If you aren't familiar with it. The legend goes Narcissius was one of the most handsome man of his time. Blessed by the gods. He was so good-looking that if he saw his reflection, he'd fall in love with himself. Nymphs never really go for men unless they are next to beautiful, but Narcissius was adored for his beauty.

One nymph in particular fell in love with him, Echo. Echo was cursed by the goddess, Hera, for her affair with Zeus. Echo's curse is that she can only echo the last three words that are spoken to her. Narcissius was on a hunt in the woods that Echo lived in. She fell in love with him at first sight, but it was unrequited love. She tried hugging him, and she tried kissing him, but he told her he'd die before she'd enjoy his body. Heartbroken, Echo runs away. The story gets weird around this part because different historians say different things about Echo's ending. One story says she ran to a cave and concealed herself in leaves. She withered away until nothing was left but her voice. Another story goes, even though she was heartbroken, she'd watch Narcissius from a far until he died discovering his own reflection.

Echo deserved better love, and I believe Elvis would be a better and more understanding love. As we all know, Elvis has beautiful, ethereal features that are compared to that of the Greek gods. I believe if Echo saw Elvis, the experience would be better. She'd swoon just like we do.

Please enjoy this tale. I think I'm only going to do this one unless y'all want more??? 😉😏 Let me know.

・ʚ♡ɞ・・ʚ♡ɞ・・ʚ♡ɞ・・ʚ♡ɞ・

Elvis came home from his tour, and he needed a break from people. He just wanted alone time for once. He starts walking in the fields behind Graceland and starts humming to himself.

He walks beyond the fields into the woods of Graceland. At this point, his singing out loud. Elvis loses himself in I'll Fly Away. Elvis finds joy and solace away from the cocaphony on the stage. Just praising his Lord and savior is enough for him. The Lord, being his audience of one, is enough at this moment. Or so he believes he's alone...

Elvis doesn't realize there's an audience of two. This particular girl has been listening from behind the trees since he began singing. His voice stuck her with cupid's arrow. This nan before was blessed three times by Apollo and Aphrodite. His beauty was more than that of Adonis or ever Narcissius. The man who broke her heart. That love made her hesitate to try again, but there's something different about this man that makes her want to love him. Something makes her want to hold him, and please him, if he only let her.

She wishes she could speak to him normally. She wishes she could ask his name, but since her curse, all she is able to do is repeat words spoken to her. It makes it difficult to make friends in this strange new world called the 50s.

She has a mind of her own, but her voice is gone. Maybe if he keeps singing, she could sing with him to catch his attention.

"I'll Fly Away. Glory, glory. I'll fly away!" Elvis sings

"I'll fly away!" She sings.

Elvis stops singing and looks around. He thought he was alone, but it seems a fan may have found him. He doesn't mind any fans. He wouldn't dare turn one away. If it wasn't for his fans, he'd still be driving a truck.

Elvis continues to look around at the trees. He knows he heard someone.

"Hello?" Elvis calls out.

"Hello?" She calls back. This is it.

She thinks to herself. This is it.

"Someone there?" He asks, hear the young woman's voice.

"Someone there?" She repeats.

Elvis, confused at the game being played, continues to see if the girl would come forth.

"I won't hurt you. Come here." He says.

"Come here!" She shouts with glee, running from behind the brush.

She runs straight to Elvis, faster than he anticipated. She embraces him and he her.

"Wow," he he says.

"Wow," she repeats, lacing her fingers through his hair.

She finally gets a better look at Elvis. This is the first time she sees his hue of his eyes. They turn her soul lusty, and her heart swoons at the sight of him. She can't help herself and kisses him. Elvis doesn't pull away, but he indulges her. Who was he to turn away a beauty as fair as she? He dips his tongue into her mouth, and she repeats the action. Never before has she done this. It's quite enjoyable.

After a moment, he slowly pulls away from her. Elvis looks into her warm brown eyes, and his heart melts.

"Who are you?" Elvis asks, touching her face.

"Who are you?" She asked, repeating the gesture.

Elvis kind of laughs it off but answers her question.

"I'm Elvis."

"Elvis." She answers.

What a beautiful name that fits such an extraordinary man. She thinks.

Elvis examines her closer. Her clothing is different. Her wardrobe reminds him of the toga that he would see in old Greek books or films.

"Baby, are you lost?" He asks.

"Lost?" She repeats, kissing his hand.

No, I'm found by you. I'm in love with you, Elvis. She thinks but can not express it.

"No, who are you? Where are you from? Are you hurt? Do you need help?" Elvis asks.

"Need help." She says.

"I'll help you," Elvis says, escorting her back to the house.

He wraps his arm around her as they walk up the back way to the house. She wraps her arm around his waist.

"Who are you, baby?" Elvis asks her.

I'm Echo. My name is Echo, Elvis. And I'm so in love with you.

She thinks. Oh, how she wished to speak to him. To tell him everything on her heart, but all she can manage is,

"Baby."

Once inside the house, Elvis starts to make phone calls to the police department.

"Elvis," Gladys asked. "Who's this?"

"I found her in the woods, Mama. She needs help."

Gladys does her own inspection of Echo. Examining her from head to toe. She realizes she doesn't have a bra on and quickly covers her with a sweater. It was one of the warmest covers Echo had ever had, and she gently grabs Gladys hand. Thanking her. Gladys accepts her gesture.

"What's your name, dear?" Gladys asks.

"Dear." Echo replies.

"Mama," Elvis says. "I don't believe she has words of her own. She just repeats what's told to her."

"Tol to her," Echo replies.

An hour later, Elvis takes Echo to the police station where a doctor examines her. She hates being away from Elvis, but her eyes never leave him. They are both mesmerized by one another.

The doctor's conclusion was that the young lady had been through a traumatic experience that caused her to go speechless. The doctor also concluded that her voice was just delayed, which is why she copies the words spoken to her. Yet she understood a lot and was not a fool. It's just hard her her to express herself the way she'd like to. She also didn't have any family or friends, which is why she attached herself to the first person who paid attention to her.

"We could put her in a hospital if you'd like Mr. Presley," the doctor suggests.

"Hospital?" Echo replies.

"No, I'll... I'll take her home with me," Elvis says. "My family won't mind."

Echo smiled at him for that. He takes her by the hand, and they head back to Graceland. Upon arrival, Elvis explains to his folks about Echo just staying for a few days until she can get on her feet.

"Son, did you find out her name," Vernon asked.

"Her name... it's Belle," Elvis says, giving her a name. "She abandoned, and she attached herself to the first person who paid attention to her. That's me. She's not here because of my fame. She's here because of my kindness. I wanna help her."

"Belle," Elvis calls to her, and she takes his hand.

Elvis recalled what the doctor said back at the police station. She repeats words given to her, so whispers in her ear what to say to Gladys and Vernon.

"Mr. and Mrs. Presley," Echo starts. "I'm so grateful to you both for letting me stay. I know I'm a stranger to you, but I mean no harm."

"See," Elvis says.

This makes Echo's heart sing. Elvis helped her speak, but she wished she could do more.

Gladys and Vernon look at one another. Caving to Elvis' pleas, they allow Belle (Echo) to stay. Gladys and Alberta make dinner with a little help from Echo. This Southern style dinner was different from everything Echo ever had. She enjoyed every minute of it. She loved watching Elvis and his family at the dinner table. It was a heartwarming sight. There was so much love in this house and among them all. When Elvis laughed, she laughed. It was quite contagious.

Gladys set Echo in a room upstairs not too far from Elvis' room. She made up the bed just right for Echo, not knowing just how special this was for her.

"I hope this is just right," Gladys said.

"Just right," Echo said.

"Well, good night, Belle. Rest well," Gladys said.

"Rest well," Echo replies.

Echo sat in the bed and relaxed her body. The bed was soft but firm. It's better than the ground or the trees she rested in. She rested her head upon her pillow and fell asleep for a while.

・ʚ♡ɞ・・ʚ♡ɞ・・ʚ♡ɞ・・ʚ♡ɞ・

Even though she slept well, she wanted to be with Elvis. She quietly climbed out of her bed and headed toward Elvis' room. She quietly enters into his cool room. She sees him silently resting in his large bed. She crawls into bed with Elvis, sliding under the covers with him.

For a moment, Echo watches Elvis in admiration. She captivated his beautiful features, dark black hair, his pouty lips, and his deep voice. She watches his hairy chest rise and fall. Echo can't wait any longer and lightly places her fingertips on his chest.

Oh, my beloved Elvis. You are more than I ever dreamed of. Kind, loving, handsome, strong, talented. Where were you so long ago? Echo thinks to herself.

She leans in and kisses his lips, startling him awake. Echo smiles at the sight of his eyes. Elvis is absolutely breathtaking.

"Belle?" Elvis says.

"Belle," Echo says.

Elvis knows what he needs to do to hear what he wants from her.

"Elvis," he says. "Kiss me, Elvis."

Echo smiles, "Kiss me, Elvis."

He does as she asks and kisses her gently. Their tongues massage one another. Elvis goes down her neck to her shoulder as Echo massages his back with her fingers. Then Elvis whispers in her ear, "Make love to me."

"Make love to me," Echo whispers with glee.

Taglist: @missmaywemeetagain @beeandheroddobsessions @headfullofpresley @everythingpresley @epforeverohyes @vintagepresley @pianginferno @powerofelvis @ab4eva @foreverdolly @searchingforgravity @thatbanditqueen @daffieapple @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @epsgirl @richardslady121 @literally-just-elvis-fics @eptodaytommorowforever @vintageshanny @iloveelvis @dreamingofep @aliypop @littlehoneyposts @msamarican

[ladytesla]

The Great Faerun Baking Show (part five)

Hello people. I cannot be stopped. Do you know how long I spent making up and looking up weird desserts? Do you have any idea how hard I tried to come up with a baking-related pun using the word 'Menzobarranzan'? I have a Problem.

(I failed thinking of a pun, by the way. Feel free to comment whatever you come up with and then I'll kick myself for not being as clever as you)

For those of you who are just stopping by, I had a horrible idea a while ago and this is the result. I have no idea what's going to happen or who's going to win. I’m just going to roll a D20 ‘bake check’ for everyone and write out the results, including what everyone rolled so y’all know I’m not cheating just so my druid boyfriend can win.  The person with the lowest total score (out of a possible score of 60) goes home.

We've got the main 6 companions, Jaheira, Halsin, Minsc (and Boo), Minthara, Dammon, and my tav Medora (who y'all can just pretend is Alfira if you don't want someone else's tav in the story, since they're both female bards)

Week One, Cake Week: Star baker was Karlach, Minthara went home

Week Two, Biscuit Week: Star baker was Halsin, Shadowheart went home

Week Three, Bread Week: Star baker was Wyll, Jaheira went home

Week Four, Pies and Tarts Week: Star baker was Wyll, Minsc went home

Week Four: Underdark Week, or "Just Like Lolth Used to Make"

Signature: Sussur loaf

This cake uses sussur fruit instead of eggs, which provides a unique gelatinous quality. They also glow in the dark, which of course they do.

Astarion: Blackberry and vanilla sussur loaf. He got the proportions wrong, and after upending his pan onto his serving dish the sussur loaf oozed out in a puddle. The flavor was nice, but the presentation was horrible.

Dammon: Peach lemonade sussur loaf. Part of the loaf stuck to the pan, but he did his best to decorate it with leftover sussur fruit to hide it. The dark silhouettes on the glowing cake disrupted the traditional clean look, but there was nothing to complain about regarding the flavor.

Gale: Pandan and star anise sussur loaf. The star anise flavor was a bit too strong and the loaf was underbaked, but overall he received positive comments from the judges.

Halsin: Honey and lavender sussur loaf. The alien-looking cake and the homey flavors made a wonderful contrast, and it was baked almost perfectly.

Karlach: Gin and tonic sussur loaf. While her loaf was in the oven she passed around measuring cups of booze for the other bakers, the hosts, the camera crew... Things came out quite nicely, but the taste was ALMOST too boozy.

Lae'zel: Ginger and passionfruit sussur loaf. A nearly-flawless bake that came almost perfectly out of the pan. She expected no less, of course.

Medora: Rose and orange blossom sussur loaf. The floral flavors and the glow of the cake made her dessert look ethereal. She went a bit too heavy-handed with the rose, however.

Wyll: Lemon and thyme sussur loaf. The Blade isn't familiar with the Underdark, and it showed, unfortunately. The loaf was very overbaked, which dims the signature glow, and the thyme was overwhelmed by the lemon.

Technical: Menzobarranzan Tavuk Göğsü

This seemingly inocuous custard-based dessert contains a secret ingredient: shredded bulette meat. You apparently can't taste it if you prepare it correctly, and it provides a more robust texture to the dessert.

From worst to best:

8. Medora

7. Astarion

6. Gale

5. Halsin

4. Karlach

3. Dammon

2. Wyll

Lae'zel

Showstopper: Myconid Cake

What better way to showcase the natural beauty of the underdark than to bake a tribute to those weird and wonderful mushroom people? Cakes must have two tiers and beautifully decorated.

Astarion: Tiramisu cake. The soaking syrup he put on the layers made the cake too wet, but the flavors were well balanced. He wasn't able to make as many decorations as he liked, but the ones he managed to create were nice.

Dammon: Earl Grey cake with raspberries. And with enough myconid-like decorations that it looked like a cavern in the Underdark. Nearly flawless.

Gale: Triple chocolate cake. Had a very ambitious idea to do three tiers, each with a different flavor batter, different filling... and time got away from him. His presentation was very sloppy, and as he frosted the cakes while they were still hot due to the time constraints, the frosting melted right off.

Halsin: Orange and thyme cake. A unique combination of sweet and savory, again using herbs he foraged himself. His decorations were incredibly detailed, and the cakes themselves had a very delicate texture.

Karlach: Carrot cake. Carrots are roots. Roots grow in the ground. Mushrooms grow in the ground. It works. Unfortunately carrot cake takes quite a long time to bake properly, and hers were still nearly liquid on the inside when she took them out of the oven. She salvaged what she could, but gave up on trying to make things pretty with two minutes left on the clock, and went to find the last of the gin and tonic from the signature round.

Lae'zel: Lemon elderflower cake. The lemon overpowered the elderflower and the cake was slightly overbaked, but her militant attention to detail made the rock candy decorations incredibly precise.

Medora: Mojito cake. It was far too boozy and the presentation was definitely lacking, but at least the cakes were baked properly.

Wyll: Strawberries and champagne cake. Apparently it's Boozy Bakes club this week, and he was a card-carrying member. A surprisingly delicate flavor, and beautifully balanced with the strawberries.

The Results:

Our star baker this week with a total of 52/60 is Lae'zel!

And with a score of 24/60, Astarion is leaving the tent today.

So I hope y'all are okay with me taking some creative liberties with the bakes today. Suspend your disbelief. Except for the Tavuk Göğsü which is a real traditional Turkish dessert that honestly sounds super interesting to me. How can you put chicken in a dessert and not taste it. I gotta know.

Feel free to play along in the comments! How would your tav or favorite npc compare?

Omg we're halfway through! We've got dessert week next.