#its not like some kind of revelation or anything

[deepperplexity]

Prompt 23: Eve Of Revelations [C6]

Pairing: Judge Turpin x Fem!OC

POV: Dual POV (OC, First & Turpin, Third)

Continuation of: Prompt 4. Darkest Night [C1], Prompt 8. Never-ending Consequences [C2], Prompt 10. Lingering Touch [C3], Prompt 14. Deceptive Kindness [C4], Prompt 16. Thoughtful Gifts [C5]

A/N: It’s the day before Christmas Eve and I’m here with the ending of Turpin’s serial for this year’s event - I’m excited! I wasn’t sure how this would pan out when I started writing this part but I think it ended as it should and I’m actually super pleased with this ending ❤

LET’S GOOOOO! Turpin and Julianne need their HEA! 😍👏

Tags/TW’s: Dancing, Pining, Harsh Turpin, Love Confessions, Light Fluff, Kissing, Proposal (more like a demand, but, yeah), WE GET ANOTHER HEA FOR RICKMAS 2024!

Word Count: 4.2k

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

Eve Of Revelations

⁛•⁛ Julianne’s POV ⁛•⁛

A little more than a week had passed since I left Judge Turpin’s house after causing him yet another moment of disturbance with my intrusion and need for assistance. I had not once been able to let go of him in my thoughts, nor had my heart slowed in its beating for the man. It was odd, truly. I had no reason to feel as I did, nor had I been given any inclination that the man even truly saw me as anything but a citizen who had required aid.

As I clipped in the last false pearl in my hair and pinched my cheeks to turn them rosy I had to draw a steadying breath. The Christmas Ball was soon to commence and I had but a sorrow within me regarding it. A heavy weight atop my shoulders that had never been there before I met the great Judge Turpin — perhaps the weight would not be lifted for quite some time but I was in no position not to find a husband.

I walked with my pale blue dress held off the ground, the underskirts warded off the chill with the help of my cloak and it was a short walk from the Inn to the town hall where the ball was to be held. Lanterns hung around the entrance as well as a few garlands and red bows. Well, this is rather unpleasant but nothing to do about it. Perhaps Constable Greer is already here and I can do my utmost to secure him? He’s a respectable man, with a respectable profession, and not above my station. A possibility, at the very least, and I must clutch each one.

The Hall was warm and loud. Music played and people already danced about the floor as I gave my coat to one of the women by the door who hung it in a cloakroom and offered me a ticket with a number upon it. I thanked the woman and moved through to the large room decorated in green garlands, red satin strings, and an abundance of candles. It was rather beautiful, and the people seemed happy as the air filled with a warmth I had missed these past weeks in London. The city was a dark and gloomy place, absolutely, yet this room was inviting.

I walked in, looking around at the dancing couples and chatting people off the dance floor. Constable Greer waved at me before heading straight toward me with a wide smile on his slightly above-average face. “Miss Brimmer, what a pleasure to see you arrive, my lady,” he said and bowed as I curtsied. “Constable Greer, a pleasure indeed.” I smiled and he smiled right back. “Are you in need of refreshments, or would you prefer a dance?” he asked, not offering me an alternative where being accompanied by him was not an option — it was quite forward, quite bold, but that was all the better for me.

I smiled and let out a little laugh. “How forward of you, sir. I shall take a dance, if you are offering.” “A dance it is then,” he said and offered his hand. I took it and he moved us out on the floor among the other couples as a waltz began to play. His grip on me was soft and appropriate as we began moving about the room. He led me gently through the turns and spins and smiled happily at me. Yes, this man is a good option… Yet my heart was not in it. The heart matters little for marriage, Julianne. Now dance and smile.

Constable Greer finished off the waltz by dipping me gently despite it not being a true part of the dance. “How about that drink?” he asked, offering his arm as he had not held onto me beyond the dance. “Oh, yes please, sir.” I wrapped my arm around his and he walked me toward the refreshments while talking of London as a city for life and work, he mentioned his position within the force and many other things while I sipped the red wine and nodded when needed.

He was a friendly man, and a happy one it appeared. He had few words of ill-will to speak and kept the conversation flowing with little investment from me — a good thing, too, as I could not truly find many words to speak to the man. The weight atop my shoulders only grew as time passed and my thoughts and heart were elsewhere, far away from the bright and warm room so at odds with the gloomy house that I had found a different kind of warmth within.

“May I ask for another dance, Miss Brimmer?” Constable Greer inquired as I sat my empty wine glass down on the counter. “Certainly, Constable,” I replied with a smile and he once more led me to the floor now packed with couples. We found a little section of space and he held me closer than before so as not to bump into the other dancers before he began moving me about gently.

He still spoke of things like preferred foods and weather, of places in London to visit and people he was willing to introduce me to. It all went quite over my head as I struggled to pay attention and keep my smile bright enough. You need a husband, Julianne! Do not allow your silly thoughts and idiotic feelings for another man far beyond your reach to interfere! Focus, and keep smiling. Do not let the man you will never forget and never reach… My thoughts dwindled out as my smile faltered while Constable Greer spun me around in his gentle grasp.

⁛•⁛ Turpin’s POV ⁛•⁛

| During the same time as Miss Brimmer danced… |

He had held out until the clock struck nine. The very notion of your smile gracing the eyes of those attending such a frivolous thing as a Christmas Ball oddly had him deeply uncomfortable. Did you not say it was such a thing? Yet, you are to attend… with men ogling that perfect smile and hearing that sweet voice in all its warmth and, lightness…

He adorned his coat and hat, his face distorting with a sneer as he jerked the door open and strode out into the dark of night lit by lanterns casting a low glow across the dirty snow below. As he crossed the line between his home and the city. The creaking iron gate threw the infuriating memory of your fear and tear-stained cheeks at him. Unforgivable to cause a light as her such… fear.

Yet, that was not the reason for the long strides carrying him through London for said frivolous gathering. No. Oh no. His mind had a far darker water to wade through as his own villainous side prodded with vicious intent. Not for her, no… For whoever dared entertain even the idea of procuring the little light’s slender hand in marriage. It was her purpose for visiting London, after all. Yet, that purpose, could now only be allowed to have but one… sole… outcome…

“I shall have her,” he said under his breath in a near-desperate manner. For she had, undoubtedly, infected his skin with the warmth he sought and a brightness of voice which ought to have grated on his nerves as it never quieted yet he had found himself listening to it — each word she had spoken so brightly. It had been a violation of an unspoken rule for her to speak so freely in his presence. Yet, she had done so. And that, coincidentally, had now been the ruin of her future and extended to a life sentence of the so-called bad luck she had spoken of. For it certainly was bad luck that she had arrested him so fully, even if perhaps unwittingly done on her part.

He stepped into the Hall, its light a stark contrast to the dark of London behind him. The music an assault on his ears as the one sound he sought was nowhere to be heard. He would have heard Miss Brimmer, there was no hiding now that he had decided the path to be walked.

The couples danced as he was offered a wide expanse as all stepped out of his personal space. He paid them no mind, he had only a single person on it. But as the couples in dance spun around on the floor before him in an array of colours and wide variation of wealth displayed. There, a pale blue dress caught his eye as the woman who had occupied him so fully was dancing — in the arms of the man he had sent to help her all those days ago.

Get your hands, off, her… His mind snarled as he strode forward. His step faltered as Constable Greer spoke, and she smiled up at the man happily. His chest constricted at the sight of the little light she was with a man smiling brightly in return; in a manner he never could.

Then her face altered, slowly it sank in joy and a sight so wrong arrested him in turn. Miss Brimmer no longer smiled, and he had yet to hear or see her speak despite him knowing she was so talkative. Her words rang in his head, words of sorrow and fear tying her tongue while other emotions were no noose to her voice according to the woman herself.

His face hardened, his lips thinned further and his posture became as rigid as it had ever been while he could not stop himself from straightening into his full height. He restrained himself, held his mouth shut and forced his legs to move him forward in a harsh stride with controlled steps so as not to run like a fool in love. Surely, he was not… Surely…

⁛•⁛ Julianne’s POV ⁛•⁛

My arm stretched out just as he spun me out fully. I gasped and twisted my head as a large hand gripped my outreached one so strongly and steadily my heart stuttered with remembrance. My eyes found him a mere second later. J-Judge Turpin… You— His steely glare halted my mind as his grip remained unyielding and decisive while my breath stuttered and my fingers instinctively gripped around his with the unwavering wish for him to not let go.

Constable Greer released me, I could hear his heels click and, in my peripheral, I saw him bow in a rush despite my eyes being held by His Lordship through it all. “Judge Turpin,” Greer said in a rapped manner with far less warmth in his voice, replaced by a dread and respect so different from the warmth that bloomed in my heart. “Constable Greer,” he said. “I shall take this little light off your hands. Leave,” he demanded and Constable Greer did not even utter so much as stuttered breath before stepping back.

The judge tugged me forward and I stumbled a step before his free hand caught my waist and his sturdy grip never faltered or loosened. “Judge Turpin, sir, you are here,” I said quietly, shocked into a low tone. “Indeed, how observant you are, Miss Brimmer.” My cheeks warmed and a smile widened my lips with no prompting from me. “I apologize for stating the obvious, sir. I am merely surprised, shocked, even, my lord.” He arched a brow at me and drew me even closer. “Yet now you speak.”

My brows scrunched. I had no idea what he meant by that. “You have been quiet, my talkative little light,” he explained in a low murmur so dark and consuming I could barely comprehend the words despite hearing him clearly. “I believe I have talked most of our time together, sir. Have I not?” He smirked, it was a devilish ordering of his features as it shined with a powerful sort of satisfaction. “Indeed, you have.” He had me at a loss with that but, for the time being, I did not care for the reason behind what he said.

The music still flowed and the couples around us danced yet none bumped into us — nor did they invade the space around the man holding me so firmly. He had still not let go, and the feel of his stable hands was soothing on a whole other level. I ought to have curtsied, but he offered me no freedom to do so as we stood in a sudden silence that I felt no need to fill with words — for the first time in my life. My smile never faltered, my cheeks still hot with a blush he set upon me by merely being there.

My heart fluttered and my fingers tingled while my knees shook as his unyielding eyes never left mine. “Miss Brimmer,” he began quietly while taking a step back, which moved us to a more proper distance. “I do not frolic under these circumstances.” “Is this you telling me you do not dance, sir?” I asked with a slight giggle. “No. I dance. I am quite proficient at it.” “I believe you…” I whispered as he arched a brow at me with a sudden, tiny twinkle to the steely grey. “Come, we shall return to my home. You do not need to remain here.”

I blinked. Whatever spell he had me under flickered for a moment as my purpose for attending the party in London returned to me. “I apologize, sir. I have no choice in the matter. Even if I do not wish to offend you, or deny you, my lord, I must remain here. I do believe you have just scared off the only prospect I had managed to garner the attention of,” I said and my smile faltered for a bit while his hand hardened around mine. “You are denying me, miss?” he asked in a harder, darker voice than I had heard him speak to me with before. “I will not be denied.” “But, sir, I must find a husband. You know of this, I spoke of this with—” “Yes.” “Then why are you—” “You have procured a husband.” I blinked. “Huh? What? I have not, sir.”

He smirked, his thumb stroking over my knuckles while my heart beat harder within my chest. “I believe you declared your future husband as a grand and respectable man.” “I have done no such thing.” The only one I spoke such words about is you and you are far— “Ah… You made the connection, little light.” “S-sir-!” I wheezed, feeling my mind fall into a tumble and my heart into an absolute fit. “Come now,” he said quietly. “I shall not be denied.” “But sir, you are far too grand and I am but the daughter of a smith master. I could not possibly ever be worthy of a man of your standing.”

He arched a brow at me, his features hard and set. “Not worthy?” he snarled. “Miss Brimmer, you are the only worthy one on this wretched earth of ruin and damnation. I shall take your light, and I. will. not. hear another word out of that sweet mouth that is not an agreement. You shall take responsibility for the state you have so foolishly placed me in.”

I gaped at the man my heart was in such a rage for. Was he truly declaring that I affected him? That he was affected by me in a manner so capturing it brought marriage to his mind? I am losing my marbles. This cannot be happening, I am not the sort of person who is blessed with such luck. The judge knew this. He knew of my bad luck and my talkative manners, my less-than-proper behaviour and my lack of standing in society. I had only ever hoped to find a man of my own stature — a farmer, a blacksmith, a shoemaker perhaps. Yet, there he stood, proclaiming that he wished to have me as his wife and that he would not be denied by me. I am in no position to deny him, and I do not wish to… But, what if he is toying with me? Playing some cruel trick upon this lesser woman before him knowing none would come to aid me?

“Sir… Are you toying with me?” I asked, my fingers growing numb in his sturdy grip as my voice faltered in my fear of heartbreak. “I am not a man with the time nor the inclination to toy with a woman, not… in this manner,” he said and there was both a smirk and a hint of frustration coming with those words. “You wish to take me as your wife? Truly, my lord?” “Am I such an inconceivable partner? Are you so deterred by me?” “No!” I gasped. “No. No, sir… I am-, I am-, I…” “Then agree,” he demanded. “Be my wife.” “Y-yes. Yes, my lord,” I whispered as my knees shook and my stomach was in an upheaval under the satisfied eyes looking down at me.

⁛•⁛

I cannot believe it. My mind raced, my heart pounded, and a smile stretched my lips so widely my cheeks hurt. I, the black cat crossing the road, had been asked to wed the only man my heart had ever been affected by. A man so far out of my reach, so different from myself in every manner conceivable. The gloomy house of which parlour I was situated in — as the man himself had gone to change out of his outdoor attire — felt slightly warmer than before. The angel I had gifted him stood atop the mantel, the only piece of Christmas spirit in sight.

Judge Turpin strode into the room, all stark and stoic with that air of power one could not possibly mistake for anything else. “Sir,” I said as he stopped before me. “I must confess to some confusion. Why me? Why wed me?” “You do not know?” I shook my head. “Neither do I.” “What? You are wanting to wed a woman such as me without a reason?” “No. There are many reasons, each one stranger than the next.” “Oh, so, it is a strange thing even for you, sir.” “No. The reasons are strange, but that I am to wed you is not.” “Sir, I do not understand when you speak in riddles in such a way,” I confessed as my need to know he was indeed not toying with my innocent heart grew ever larger.

He sat down beside me on the sofa, his posture rigid and his face showed no hints of his thoughts. “Are you aware of who I am, miss?” “Yes, of course I am. Your reputation has spread all over London, sir. There is not a man or woman who does not know your name or the fierceness of your court. You are a most harsh judge, a pillar for the law and justice in a most severe manner, sir. Who would not be aware of you? Well, granted, I did not know who you were before your name was spoken but that is merely a lack of awareness for features,” I said, chatting away as his presence comforted me with its rigidity. I felt as if I knew where I had him, and there was just something rather pleasant about the harshness of him — the manner he existed in spoke to some lack of it within me, I was his opposite and where the world frightened me it seemed to bow before him.

“Talkative?” I smiled. “Always, sir.” “Incorrect.” “Sir?” He glanced at me. “When frightened or saddened, you speak very little.” “Ah, yes, true, my lord.” “That is one of the strange reasons, little light.” “That I do not talk while afraid or sad?” He chuckled; a most glorious and deep sound. “You are talkative with me, as if there is no fear in a sweet woman such as yourself in my presence.” “There is not…” I whispered. “You are a grand man, harsh and stoic with the power of the law at your fingertips but I do not fear the man of the rumours nor the man sitting here with me. There is nothing about you that frightens me, sir. Quite the opposite. You are everything I am not, sir.” “Explain.”

I drew a small breath, rubbing my fingers together atop my thighs before pinching the blue fabric. “I am frightened of the world. I am small and of little consequence, I talk too much and come off as either brazen or frustrating — to some I am humorous or inviting, too, I suppose. I have little value and am not a pillar of anything. I am quite the opposite of you and you… are everything I am not. There is little I can do about who I am or what bad luck afflicts me, nor can I control my heart or mind as it longs for you because of how you make me feel.” He arched a brow. “And how is that?” “Safe. Safe, sir.”

He looked at me. For a second he softened and the steely eyes swirled for a moment before he seemed to find himself anew. “My dark heart calls for you as well, Miss Brimmer. It has never called for another and I am, as you say, the opposite of you. Where you see it as unreasonable for us to wed I will not be denied. Where you see me as out of your reach, I can with ease take you.” I gulped. “Sir… You speak most sweetly.” “No, I do not. I shall teach you the ways of my world, and I shall teach you to know you belong to me, by my side. You shall learn, little light, that the only one worthy is you.” His voice hummed and rumbled with a forboding wickedness I could not place yet it had a tingle shoot through my body as my breathing turned shallow under his intense gaze as he spoke.

“S-sir, I do not understand what you mean. But I find myself n-not caring when you speak in such a manner.” He leaned closer. “And what, do tell, is the manner in which I speak?” I drew a ragged breath, my chest heaved as he inched inappropriately close. “W-with want, my lord. With want and warmth…” Much like my cheeks are now burning your words seem to do so as well.

He was far too close, his breath fanned my face and I could barely draw breaths deep enough to sustain myself. “There is want, Miss Brimmer—” “Julianne, my lord. Please, my name, it is Julianne.” “Julianne…” Hearing my name spoken in his thunderous voice in such a dark purr had me staving off a needy sound I had never felt myself inclined to make before. “A most suitable name, perfectly paired with Richard, as is my name.” “Richard,” I whispered and his eyes widened. “Again,” he demanded. I swallowed, my eyes flicking between his for a moment. “Richard.”

A strange snarl mixed with a harsh breath left him and before I knew it his lips pressed against mine, suffocating the gasp leaving me and swallowing the strange moan of want leaving me. His thin lips were unlike any I had imagined would kiss me and the manner the tip of his nose dug into my cheek felt perfect — never had I imagined my first kiss to set me on fire.

“Exquisite,” he purred as he leaned back, leaving me panting and heaving while unable to move. “I shall wed you, Julianne, and you shall be mine for all time to come. I shall help you overcome your fear of the world and you shall forever be a light in my darkness as you have been from the moment I found you.” “S-sir, you are toying with me now,” I whispered as my voice faltered. “I assure you, I am not.” “I never thought you felt anything for me,” I pushed out as his hand cupped my chin steadily. “I assure you, none other would ever have been allowed to disturb my peace with constant chatter. Nor would I have offered my home as a sanctuary. You affected me from the very first moment I laid eyes upon your smiling face in the dark of night.” “I found you handsome and inviting, sir,” I confessed. “I felt safe, protected, for the first time in my life there was no need to fear…”

He tilted my head to hold my gaze. “You have captured me,” he murmured. “As you have me, Richard. I do not believe in love at first sight, yet I find myself loving you already…” His eyes widened. “I am a fool in love,” he hummed and his lips met mine once more while his steady hand kept me in place. Not once did he let go as warmth bloomed in my chest and the certainty of my future with him released my shoulders from their stiffness when his tongue darted out to caress my bottom lip roguishly. “Mine,” he declared against my lips and the depth of his voice quieted my mind completely. “Yours…” I whispered as the gloom seemed brighter and the house warmer…

 

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

A/N: These two, I adore them. I hope you’ve loved this story ❤ tomorrow is the last day of Rickmas, and Christmas Eve, meaning the fifth Rickmas celebration will be concluded and I am absolutely thrilled to have managed a fic a day all through this event (she says as she’s needing to still write, prepare and proof tomorrow's fic 😂👏). I’ll see you tomorrow darlings! ❤❤❤

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[princesssmars]

concrete jungle with the devil.

some victoria neuman x reader headcanons.

part.ii of this

you’re beautiful, you’re talented, and you’re the secret girlfriend of a hot and potentially crazy congresswoman. what more could you ask for?

contains : fxf relationship. fluff. angst. manipulation, pretty toxic relationship because its the boys and its victoria, mentions of smut. readers hair and face not described.

wc : 2.415

a/n : started this when season two was airing. look at what an idiot i was.

you had forgotten how much walking was done in certain cities in the states, especially in the big apple. to be fair, you’d forgotten quite a few things.

you remembered things you had forgotten gradually after that night when you realized you were not only a supe, but a supe that had been unknowingly manipulating yourself with your apparent superpowers into forgetting parts of your life. would be a cool plot for a book if it wasn’t your entire life but, whatever.

after managing to think of the revelation without nearly having a panic attack and ‘crazy high blood pressure’ as victoria so eloquently put it, you’d fallen into a kind of…ease?

in her ‘loving worry’ the woman had put you under her watchful eye, moving you into her home to prevent you from doing anything ‘drastic’ and helping you acclimate to your new state of living. she paid for your expensive hotel for another week before not subtly (and not asking) recommending you stay in her townhome.

and she’ll make sure you’re as comfortable as you can be the entire time. find the guest bed uncomfortable? her first offer is for you to just sleep with her, but she’ll settle for making sure you have a new mattress and comforter set. feeling sad over your rapid change in diet? a personal chef is hired to make you authentic parisian dishes to your hearts content.

it’s completely jarring how she has such a hold on your heart. you know a part of you can’t move on because of your powers, but every time you try to remind yourself of how weird your situation is you’re roped right back in when she comes home from work and tells you how she was thinking of you all day, giving you physical affection when you seem open to it by pressing a sweet kiss to the side of your head.

as childish as it is, a small part of you wishes you had an actual label for your relationship. ‘woman who wooed me then flew me across the globe to accomplish my dream and then revealed she wants to take advantage of my unexplored power’ was more than a mouthful. even ‘partner’ would be preferable.

it’s amplified by the fact that you aren’t really in a relationship.

you’ve slept together, something you embarrassingly think about often at night when your hand trails beneath the soft satin pajama set she had gifted you. at the end of the day you do have needs, and having your sexual world rocked only to have to (reasonably) avoid the perpetrator as best as you can is all too confusing to process.

not to mention that she still treats you sweetly and romantically when in private, fingers brushing over your arms and pet names whenever she sees you in a room of her house, but outside and in public her career calls for…propriety? and a relationship with another woman in your career would hurt her numbers apparently. at least that's what her publicist said. she didn't seem very bright yo you, but victoria was throwing hundreds at her to support her campaign.

and oh yeah, she decides to tell you randomly on a thrusday night in while making dinner with her daughter that she actually is talking with another politician about running for president and vice president. zoe had to help you when you nearly choked on your pasta.

you hadn't delved too deep into politics when over in paris, only googling the basics about small party leaders who'd show up to bars and would likely engage in small talk over a few drinks. the first time you even learned about vic's profession you already heard alarm bells in your head, but president? seriously?

she tried to reassure you about it, listing off all the benefits it would bring to her family - which now apparently includes you. a better government position meant a better quality of living, moving into the secure grounds of number one observatory circle with access to the government's protection, connections, and loads of money. you and zoe both perked up at that. you looked at the girl curiously and she shrugged her shoulders, admitting later that she would like to be able to travel to more places farther than the met.

unsurprisingly, you grow closer to zoe. you aren’t given many opportunities to make a lot of friends, and the only adult conversations you get are your friends back in pairs over the phone and victoria along with her campaign help. at first you helped her a little with her homework, even if the curriculum for her private school was leagues above what you learned in your little low-budget middle school. eventually, you start to just talk about shared interests, and you're pleasantly surprised to find out the girl is musically gifted. its sweet to see that vic set up a corner of her office for the girl to practice her talents, and whenever she offers you listen to her play a piece on her cello.

you never bring it up, but one time victoria stopped at the house for a long lunch once and overheard the two of you talking about a piece you both loved before zoe practiced it on her instrument. she stood out of sight in the doorway for a minute and just observed. as soon as you noticed her presence she was gone.

when things start looking up in the polls vic starts to show a little leniency with letting you have an actual life. of course she uses some backdoor connections to get you a boost in your career, and you find a great deal of peace in being able to perform to your hearts content. it only helps that the atmosphere of entertainment in new york is alive and bursting, you meet so many fellow musicians and singers.

slowly but surely you start to fall for the city. sure it can be dirty and smell weird and have heaps of garbage everywhere, but just like with paris you’re able to find the hidden jems that lurk just below the surface.

and after some pestering whenever the two of you manage to be in a room alone together for more than a few minutes, victoria finally starts to explain to you…well, you.

you’d always gotten a bad feeling by vought, never liked the way they profited off of the supers and marketed them to certain countries and people. finding out that they made you the ‘way you are’ . apparently, both you and vic’s parents thought letting a company shoot some super drug into their children would a smart idea, that you’d both go on to do something great.

“well, i guess you are kind of great, in a sense. smart enough to become a politician, raise a good kid. are they proud of you?”

she only gave you a dry chuckle as she took a sip of her dark wine.

“yeah, yeah they’re really proud.”

as much as you start to try, you cant get in to her head. you’ve been thrust into the middle of her life and routine and there’s still so many things about her you don’t know. hell, you don’t even know what her power really is still. you can tell she wants to let you in some, either for her own feelings or because she wants to help you explore your supercharged feelings for her to understand more about your abilities.

but just like when you talked about vought, as soon as she’s about to open up you see that look, one of a fear you’d never quite seen before flash in her eyes before she quickly dismisses you.

so you decide to tale a.. drastic measure to get some things out of her.

you had been exploring your power a bit in your new daily life, just little things that didn’t make too much of a difference or affect anyone too greatly. a simple request for the customer ahead of you to apologize to a barista they’d needlessly ridiculed, innocently asking a rushing passerby to give you directions to a cafe you had just been dying to try. it took a few weeks to get the hang of it, the fact that it apparently worked best when you were singing and the toll it could take on your body, but the dizziness fades eventually.

it’s a rare night where the two of you are in the house alone together and you decide to celebrate your recent well-perceived performance by opening up a bottle of bubbly and sitting on the couch, dressed in some maybe too revealing pajamas and waiting for her to inevitably join you once she finishes settling in from a long day at the campaign office.

she joins you and clink s her glass to yours, rolling her eyes into your drink when you immediately ask her a question about all of her plans.

“its gonna take more than some expensive champagne and you looking like that for me to crack, but nice try sweetheart.”

“oh yeah?” your finger teases the rim of your glass, eyes trained on her movements.

“yeah. let’s stick to the basic questions for now.”

you hum a short tune to yourself and take another sip of your drink. “okay. you should tell me what you had for lunch today.”

“patricia picked me up a ceasar salad today. it had too many croutons, a really absurd amount. sat confused for a few seconds.”

her eyes scrunch up slightly and flick to yours. you take her silence as a sign to keep going.

“i never really get to talk to your assistant. she told me once her name was morticia.”

she laughs and sets her glass on the coffee table, “think she might’ve been intimidated by you. she can be a real tightass but she’s a hardworker, believes in my campaign and message and all that shit.”

“dont try to skirt past that, tell me why she’s intimidated by me.”

her eye twitches, clearly annoyed by what you’re doing and not used to someone having this kind of control over her. but each time you do it you notice the way her hand clenches on the cushion of the sofa, how her tongue darts out to quickly lick over her bare lips.

“she wants me, checks me out sometimes when we’r ein the office. but the reason i hired her is that she’s incredibly observant, and she’s probably picked up that the two of us have a weird thing going on.”

your eyes slightly scrunch together. “what do you mean by ‘weird thing’ ?”

clearly your aggravation at how she decided to describe...admittedly whatever this weird thing between the two of you was, its enough for your concentration to slip and allow her to get out of the concentrated hold you had on her mind. in only a few seconds she’s pinning your body down to the couch, your wrists held down by her hands and your drink falling to the floor with a loud shatter.

‘ugh! vic, what the hell-” you struggle to get out of her grip, thrashing your arms and trying to kick up your legs that are trapped under her thighs. you apparently greatly underestimated how strong she is.

“that’s it baby, get angry, let it all out.” she has a fascinated smile on her face that does nothing to quell your frustration, only giving you the desire to get right back to messing with her anyway how.

“tell me why you’re doing this to me!”

“i like watching you under me, plus i like having control over you. definitely don’t want you turning the tables on me again.”

you notice that when you command her to explain her voice takes on this fast tone, like she’s rushing to answer you as soon as you finish speaking.

“you think i’ve dont you what you’ve done to me?”

“isn’t it fucking obvious? you just forced me to tell you something i wasn’t supposed to mention. i have to keep sharing things with you, you make me want to share things with you. you’re controlling me and you don’t even know it.”

“why don’t you want me to control you?”

“because i’ve been controlled before. its horrifying. you could be horrifying. because it’s not part of the plan. none of this is. god, you were supposed to be gone by now but i just can’t…i don’t-”

both of you’re eyes are wide when her speech starts to slip, fighting against the control to keep telling you what she’s hiding. her head jerks and you feel a rush of hot liquid rush down your face, your hand miraculously free to let you feel the blood pouring out of your nose. you look back at her and she’s scrambled to the other end of the couch, eyes trained ahead of her as she gets herself out of the daze.

abruptly she stands up, swiping off any leftover unease and starting her trek towards the stairs as you wipe off the now slow moving trail of fluid trailing from your nose.

as soon as she reaches the first step you call out to her, blood dripping into your mouth as your voice takes on a bittersweet and melodic sound.

“how do you feel about me, victoria?”

her manicured hand clenches around the wood bannister so hard you fear it’ll snap.

“you’re powerful. you’re useful and you’re terrifying.”

tears prick at your lashline as you swipe at more of the red covering your mouth. her head turns to meet your blurry gaze.

“i think i’m in love with you.”

you zone out to the sound of her footsteps rushing up the stairs and the light-headness from exertion.

you had forgotten what one one of the worst things about being in a city was. how despite being surrounded by thousands of people and hundreds of lives, inevitably came those times where you were alone as a person could be.

[alchemicaladarna]

So I'm currently writing a short essay about Norse mythology and I was doing some research on Loki, and some of the stuff about him kind of remind me of q!bad actually.

I'm not really talking from a lore standpoint, but there's a few similarities with their personalities for instance. Also no, I'm not talking about Marvel's rendition of Loki.

The Norse god is much more chaotic. You could say he often toes the line between good and evil, but if you really study the myths, Loki never does anything that's inherently evil. He causes chaos and destruction, but he's not malevolent. He does it because he is bored lmao and he just likes pranking the other gods cuz it's fun! He's just a little guy! Sound familiar?

I'm not saying q!bad and Loki have the exact same qualities, because tbh Loki probably wouldn't care for egg children, but there's definitely similarities that are worth pondering over.

I'm too brain dead to go super in depth rn but Norse mythology has consumed my brain and q!bad lives in my mind rent free so yeah.

Also Loki canonically changes genders. He disguises himself as a woman on several occasions. He is also a shapeshifter, and personally I just think that's cool because those are basically my headcanons for q!bad.

[quietwingsinthesky]

at some point i am going to have to force even to go back and deal with donna & tentoo & rose & all and everything they ran away from. and that will probably involve them losing tentoo’s chameleon arch watch by giving it back to its rightful owner, whether she chooses to open it or not. and that is. not going to be a very fun or stable time for them.

[29121996]

.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Can you please do a part two of the Sebastian fluff where he lets his thoughts get the best of him and gets anxious that reader now sees him as a monster because of what they read on his document so he prepares extra good items and plans to give them heavy discounts and even some free but reader barges in like

"MANTIS SHRIMP??? PUNCH SOMETHING RIGHT NOW"

And after a bit of reassuring(possibly some punching too bc reader is too starry-eyed for him to say no to em) Seb realizes he trully never had anything to worry about and just, generally grows fonder of reader?

Ps. Adore your writing, keep up the awesome work!!

"God, why did I let them take it? Stupid, stupid, stupid.."

Sebastian couldn't stop beating himself up, even though he knew he shouldn't care about the opinion of any human sent by Urbanshade--especially one of the "expendable" class.

Yet because it was you, specifically--who was currently in possession of his document--he began to wonder what you'd think of him once you found out the truth:

That he was nothing but a horrible monster. Plain and simple.

If not the knowledge that he was a hideous chimera of several sea creatures' DNA...then surely the revelation that he caused the lockdown of the Blacksite would ultimately make you resent him.

He released all those creatures, who stopped at nothing to prevent you from reaching the crystal and had you running, fighting, or hiding for your life.

He was responsible for all the injuries you've sustained while crawling into his shop, desperately needing a medkit and a place to rest.

He would understand if you'd never want to visit him again after what they documented about him..but the image of your furious expression and overthinking the words you'd possibly say to him left him feeling incredibly anxious.

Suddenly, Sebastian found himself gathering more supplies. Medkits, code breakers, and every light source he had currently in the shop, trying to market down whatever he could. He was even willing to let you take batteries for free...which was something he'd never normally do.

Would it be enough to make up for everything horrific you discovered about him and the terrors he indirectly put you through? Absolutely not.

Was he willing to try it anyways just for the small chance that you'd keep visiting him? Maybe.

No other human has shown him a single ounce of kindness or gratitude for his services. Nobody except you, of course, and he refused to lose that.

-thump, thump-

"Shit.." He froze, hearing movement in the vent duct, hands trembling for his light to shine brighter. Part of him wishes he could stay in the dark, as he didn't wanna see your face and whatever hurt expression it could possibly hold.

But he knew it'd be rude if you actually needed to buy something, so he forced himself to look as your familiar figure crawled out of the small opening. You seemed out of breath, like you were just running from something, and stood up to dust the dirt off your pants.

"Sebastian..I need to know something, and you need to be 100% honest with me."

The moment you pulled out his document, the shopkeeper could feel his heart sink.

"Wh..What did you want to know?" He asked, already bracing himself for the worst.

You sounded dead serious, and he was convinced you were finally going to let him have it.

You were going to force him to explain himself and his actions, and tell him what a monster he truly was. Literally and metaphoric-

"Its it true that you have mantis shrimp DNA????"

Silence.

Of all the possible outbursts he expected from you, that certainly didn't cross his mind.

Sebastian just stared down at you, utterly dumbfounded. He blinked several times, unsure if he was truly seeing the wide smile and starry-eyed look on your face.

He had been waiting for a deep scowl, eyes full of anger and betrayal and sadness that he wasn't the "friend" he claimed himself to be when you first visited his shop.

Yet now? He saw nothing but pure delight in your expression.

"Um..yes. But of alllll the things you read about me, that shocked you the most?" He was still treading carefully.

"Well, it sucks that you were an innocent guy who got thrown into a shitty situation." You gestured to him, frowning a little. "And I'm sorry you never saw justice, but...it's just SO cool that you're part mantis shrimp!" A grin returned to your face. "They've fascinated me for years! I used to watch videos of them all the time. Did you know the velocity of just one of their punches is equal to a .22 caliber bullet-?"

"Stop." He put a hand up, huffing. "At least some part of you must resent me. I mean...helloooooo, did you skip over the bit where I'M the reason those monsters are after you?! There's no way you could've ignored that..unless your brain turned off the moment you read "mantis shrimp"."

"I read everything, Sebastian." You huffed back. "Look, if I ever had to go through what you did..I think I'd wanna rebel, too. And as much as those monsters scare me, they've probably endured the same experiments as you. They probably felt just as trapped and afraid. You must see at least a few of them as your friends, right?"

"Eyefestation and the PAInter are the only ones I consider "acquaintances"." He answered after a long pause, shoulders slumped. "The anglers are primitive, but they recognize me as the one who freed them, so they don't bother me or my shop. The only creature that tends to be an issue is-"

-thump-

-thump-

Tensing, you looked over your shoulder to see a Wall Dweller emerge from the vent behind you, its mouth split open and drooling with hunger, standing on two legs.

"-that." Sebastian glared at the creature; and before it could run away, he blocked the entrance with his tail fin. "Oh no you don't." He swooped over to grab ahold of its head with his third hand, causing it to shriek and kick its legs as he held it up high. "You seriously need to stop eating my customers when they're trying to BUY SOMETHING!!"

The Dweller just growled at him, to which he ignored it and glanced down at you. "What should I do with this thing?"

"Punch it!" You grinned, your fists balled up in front of you as you hopped up and down. "I wanna see how fast you could throw one!"

He raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Pleeeeaaase?"

"..ugh, if it gets that stupid puppy-eyed look off your face, fine." He looked back at the Dweller, grinning widely as he cracked his knuckles. "You wanna eat something so bad? Try this."

"....grahh-?"

In a blinding flash, his fist went through the creature's skull, effectively turning its head into dust. Then he dropped the whole body onto the ground with a grimance. "Eugh..never done that before.."

Then he looked down at you again, seeing your smile brighten. "Hope that made you happy."

"It did, that was amazing!" You laughed, kneeling down to rip off a chunk of the Dweller's flesh. He eyed you strangely, his expression changing to a look of horror as you shoved a piece in your mouth.

"What the f...why would you eat that?!"

"It's okay! I've had this stuff before." You swallowed, feeling rejuvenated already.

"B....Before?! What you're eating is clay and acid-"

"Actually, it's fresh meat. Reminds me of poultry, almost. I found a document somewhere saying that it has regenerative properties." You explained to Sebastian, whose eyes only widened the more you talked. "I didn't believe it at first until I saw the Angler kill one. I was hungry and...eating it healed my electrical burn somehow."

".......why was that not in its actual document?" He muttered.

You shrugged, ripping out another piece and offering it to him. "Care for a bite?"

"I'll..pass. But thanks." Lowering his body closer to you, he frowned. "Are you absolutely sure that-?"

"I'm sure."

"..you didn't even know what I was going to-"

"You were worried about my reaction to your file. I could tell from the discount signs and how you were scared to even look at me."

"............."

"But I promise it doesn't change anything, okay? We're still friends, Sebastian, and I'll still swing by to do business with you." You reassured him, smiling as you patted the back of his hand, before noticing the bandage on his third arm seemed bloody. "Um..when's the last time you changed that?"

"...oh this? Erm..it's fine." He attempted to hide it behind his back. "Nothing you should be concerned abou-"

"Too late. It's my concern now. Let me repay you for saving my tail."

He had no time to protest, as you were already on your feet and running for the medkit that was on the table. You weren't worried about getting to the next zone right now.

Not that Sebastian planned on kicking you out anytime soon.

No.

Now that he was able to confide in you, he was genuinely beginning to enjoy your company--especially as you asked him to rest his arm across your lap. From there, your gentle hands went to work changing the bandage out for a fresh one, using an alcohol spray to keep the wounds from getting infected.

He hissed and cursed a few times at the stinging pain, but not once did he try to get you to stop.

Suddenly, it all began to hit him in this exact moment.

You were willingly playing nurse to a giant sea monster that has killed a man and was responsible for the terrifying things you had to witness down here.

He couldn't understand..but at the same time he felt relieved that all along he had nothing to worry about.

"Th-That's fine..thank you.."

Hearing a sniffle, you glanced up as Sebastian hastily took his arm away, "standing" back up and turning away from you. You just smiled and patted his tail comfortingly, not saying a word as you waited for him to collect himself.

For once, that snarky and sarcastic fish you've come to know was gone, and he was letting his walls down, finally realizing he could trust you.

Eventually he fell silent, and you wondered what to do now. You bought everything you wanted to earlier, so you didn't wanna overstay your welcome-

"Do you mind staying for a little bit longer?"

The question surprised you, but you smiled and nodded. "Sure. As long as you don't mind, shrimpy."

There was a pause, and he slowly looked back at you, pouting. "Big talk coming from someone as tiny as you, friend." He playfully sneered.

You just laughed and shook your head, glad to see him in better spirits.

Thanks to that scrambler on his back, you didn't have to worry about HQ getting on your ass about continuing the mission or threatening detonation.

You could definitely stay awhile and ramble about more mantis shrimp facts to Sebastian...if he was willing to hear them, of course.

[teojira]

I saw that you had transformers on your fandom list, will you be willing to write a 'bot of choice x human reader jealousy/protectiveness fic? Like in that one scene from Transformers 2 where the Deception Pretender tried to seduce Sam but Bee absolutely wasn't having that but had to stay in car mode?

[Aren't you supposed to be more mature than this?]

Summary: Optimus knows better than to get attached to you (too late), he can't help but side eye you and a stranger interacting. (Based on Knightverse Optimus, after ROTB!)

Word count: 800+ words!

Pronouns: They/them

Warnings: Optimus is bad at feelings, Optimus being down bad, extremely self indulgent. Mainly Optimus' Pov as well! Lmk if I need to tag anything!

A/N: Everyone who knows me knows of my obsession and love for this man it's so bad, I have him tattooed and have a whole ass shrine I love HIMMM, Thank you sm for the request! He is the love of my life.

Optimus Prime has been called many things, many of which are true, things he'd accept with pride.

A great leader, a good friend, a valuable teammate, A war criminal.

A jealous bot was never one of them, until recently.

He wasn't sure when he started to take a shine towards you. Was it after Unicron? When he held you in his servos, cradling you to his chest as he transformed back into his bipedal form, only letting go of you after the confused looks from Bee and Mirage.

Maybe it was a while after that, when you offered to help clean him up, Noah was too busy rebuilding Mirage to offer his services to the big man himself.

Optimus could never wipe the feeling of your small hands gently running across his frame, taking extra care to mend any scratches you found, constantly checking in to make sure he was comfortable.

He's ashamed to admit, but he kept shuddering under your touch, his senses overwhelmed by your presence. Every time his cooling fans turned on, he'd wave it off as it was just hot outside. (it's 60 degrees out, liar.)

He tries to recharge that night, but the feeling in his chassis makes him restless. He can see his sensors go haywire at the mere thought of you. He is so fucked, he shuts his eyes and groans deeply, his mask shooting up to mask the sound, lest he wakes the others.

Primus help him.

With his new revelation, Optimus tries his best to distance himself towards you, always making excuses as to why he can't drive you home or to work (a flicker of jealously when Arcee offers, no one catches his digits curling ever so slightly into his palm), saying he must go on patrol for the time being. He waves you off when you try and care for him, asking if he'd like any help with any scrapes and dents, saying he can live with them, he's been through worse.

Its only natural that you'd give him some space, that's the kind of person you are, kind, loving, respectful, loyal to a fault, but it doesn't escape his notice when your smile falls after he politely tells you you're not needed, his spark aching when you turn around to go find another bot.

Optimus watches you now, stationed on the street.

He has no right to be upset when you're stopped outside of the garage by an older man, the man so clearly taking interest in you while you're very politely listening and nodding, shooting that oh so pretty smile to a man who he's sure is not fit to be anywhere near you, not worthy of the warm smile you wear.

It makes him seethe in jealousy, and it's scary.

He can not remember a time when he had ever been jealous. He's a prime. He was supposed to be a calm and collected leader and yet. And yet, he's so close to blowing his hor-

You suddenly whirl towards him. If he was any better of a man, he wouldn't immediately think of how cute you looked, how your lips moved as you let out a yelp.

It isn't until that thought passes his mind that he realizes he used his truckers horn. Embarrassment trickles through his body, although now he has your attention, and you are making your way towards him. The man following behind you keeps the conversation going, not catching a hint.

Optimus is ready to honk again, especially if this man keeps following so close behind you, way too close for comfort.

You beat him to it, turning around as you rest a hand on Optimus’ cabins door handle, shooting the man a polite smile.

“Sorry about that, but my husband is actually here to pick me up, so I have to go. Have a good day!” And You hoist yourself up, quickly buckling your seat belt, gently patting the dashboard in hopes Optimus fucking drives before you're bothered anymore.

Optimus’ processor buffers, his engine revving as he goes on autopilot to tale you both away. Does he know where to drive to? Certainly no, but you're with him now. He's sure you could ask him to take you to distant planets, and he'd make it work for you and only you.

“Thank you for the save, big guy.” You smile brightly at his steering wheel, your eyes lovingly trailing across the autobot symbol that sits in the center.

“It was nothing, I am glad to be there to assist.” The cabin rumbles with his voice, soothing your anxiety. You curl into your seat, resting your head.

“Where are we going?”

“If I'm not mistaken, you mentioned wanting to go to upstate New York to drive along some scenic routes? I'll gladly be your escort.”

He is so ridiculously falling for you, but he can't bring himself to hate it, especially when you excitedly hop in your seat.

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏᴏɴ!

[yzzart]

"𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐟𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫."

pairing: young!Coriolanus Snow x f!reader.

summary: the only one who could calm a winter was you.

warnings: +18!, oral sex, f!receiving, biting, mention of manipulation, sexual content, explicit content and explicit words + take a look at the masterlist!

word count: 1.055!

Feelings of dissatisfaction, injustice and stress dominated Coriolanus Snow's chest daily; not to mention the sparks of anger that his heart fired every day. — Stunned thoughts circled the boy's head.

And it was, in fact, impressive how Coriolanus knew how to disguise, and even control, what he felt; no one from the Capital could describe or bring out anything bad in his beautiful, young face. — Besides Casca Highbottom, of course; one of the reasons for the boy's countless headaches. — He remained neutral, sometimes with a compassionate smile and moved on.

He acted as if nothing and no frustration were in his life.

However, Coriolanus had a peculiar and unique way of releasing everything he felt, all those mixed emotions and sensations; and involved you. — Specifically, being between your thighs.

Coriolanus loved —no, he loved— devouring you. Boy Snow, if he had the chance or the power, could stay all day, all the time, with his face in your beautiful, oh-so-good pussy; and that is not an exaggeration, ever. — He never believed in words of belief or rumors of the second plane of life that was perfect, but Snow had found paradise between your thighs.

Before eating your pussy, Coriolanus always leaves small, wet kisses near the area; at certain moments, some small provocative bites. — Such a affectionate, sweet and intimate gesture and you fell even more in love with that white-haired boy. — Soon, he attacked like a hunt after its prey.

Coriolanus's poisonous tongue ran through your folds, sucking them with pleasure and desire; quickly, paying attention to your swollen and needy clitoris with great pleasure. — He licked, sucked and sucked your little bud with exuberance and dedication; the Snow boy gave his best, especially to you.

The environment in his room, besides being hot and dimly lit, was full of moans and whimpers that escaped your lips. — God, your moans were so sweet, naive and formed a melody in Coriolanus' ears; the sounds that came out of your mouth were divine. — A piously work of art.

The name of your lover, which came out inappropriately and stuttered, echoed through the walls and if you doubted it, it could be heard in the other rooms of your house. — Mentally, you were grateful for your parents' prolonged absence. — Like the song of an extravagant bird.

Those crystal blue eyes, clouded with pure desire and lust, gazed at you; more than usual, in fact. — Your beautiful and so cute little face reveling in pleasure, your cheeks in a reddish tone and some strands of hair stuck to your forehead; discreet tears were present on one of her cheeks. — You were the most beautiful thing Coriolanus saw in his entire life.

And the fact that you belonged to him made his ego-swollen chest even better.

There were no more financial problems, family matters to be resolved or the academy or fucking Highbottom, there was no longer anything that made his life hell. — Only you were on his mind, his attention and focus.

"Coryo…!" — His name came out in a slurred and fragile way as more tears slowly fell from your graceful face; a shock when you felt the contact of Coriolanus' teeth on your clitoris awakened in your body. — He would be, at least, a little cruel to you, however, you denied that with all your strength.

A vibration in your wet region accompanied your warm body, an enigmatic laugh from the Snow boy upon witnessing your reaction. — Making a point of making one more contact, but leaving a gentle nibble; eliciting a thin scream from you.

Your legs were shaking, your chest was rising and falling without any kind of control, not to mention that your head and mind were completely melted; no thought with notion or consciousness presented itself. — Pleasure, distress, pain and a burning sensation of being used by Snow ripped through your heart. — On the bright side, you were helping your dear lover, right?

"C-Coryo, Coryo!" — The stimulation and speed of his tongue began to accelerate and become more abrupt, becoming too much for you. — "I'll go... I'll go." — You couldn't even complete a mediocre sentence.

You were so naive, such a precious little thing, trying to warn him that you were about to cum as if Coriolanus didn't recognize your body. — He knew when you were about to cum, Coriolanus knew your body better than you. — Like a book he read countless times to the point where he memorized every word written in it.

Oh, the Snow boy was proud of that.

"Come on, my little bird." — Coriolanus hated, perhaps that's too strong a word, birds, but you were an exception; a beautiful and unique exception. — "I want you to let it all out." — It wasn't a request, a loving request, it was an order along with a pinch made by his lips.

Regardless, your orgasm was intense, causing a strong delirium in your delightful and sensitive mind. — Coriolanus was definitely in paradise and his taste was magnificent; a flavor he could never get sick of. — He licked and sucked your release, delighting himself and getting it dirty on his sculpted chin.

Coriolanus's large, thin hands opened your thighs even further with the intention of not leaving even a drop of your juices. — Like a hungry animal, not even leaving the carcass for others.

The heavy feeling of exhaustion and a drowsy wave controlled your body slowly even though you forced yourself to stay awake and full. — Snow sucked your energy, leaving nothing left for you. — An exhausted smile formed on your lips as you looked at Coriolanus; now, he left affectionate and grateful kisses on your thighs. — You loved that damn young man.

"My good girl…" — Coriolanus felt your heavy gazes. — "…you did such a good job for me." — Your heart accelerated, you didn't know how to answer if it was about what had happened or the affectionate way he praised your; you didn’t care either way.

You didn't even have the strength to answer him, so just your sweet and tired smile was enough for Coriolanus. — He was so proud, more than he already was, and he longed for more; he always wanted more.

And in the end, he would have. — Like every animal, it would get its prey in the blink of an eye.

[ohisms]

✱˚｡⋆ ↪ 𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 . ( a collection of lyric prompts based on various works by florence + the machine . adjust phrasing as necessary , will likely be updated in the future . )

it's always darkest before the dawn .

we will find new saints to be canonized .

holy water cannot help you now .

the horses are coming , so you'd better run .

i never felt so alive and so dead .

i'm damned if i do , i'm damned if i don't .

i've always been in love with you .

what has been done cannot be undone .

i don't care whether i live or die .

we will never be afraid again .

i feel nervous in a way that can't be named .

it was so far a fall , but it didn't hurt at all .

the saints can't help me now .

i want to find you and tear out all of your tenderness .

sooner or later , the things you love , you lose .

run fast for your mother , run fast for your father .

i like to think , at least , things can't get any worse .

i would give all this and heaven too .

i was in the darkness , so darkness i became .

all my stumbling phrases never amounted to anything worth this feeling .

in order to get to the heart of things , sometimes you have to cut through .

i'll be dead before the day is done .

time after time , i think "oh lord , what's the use ?"

the heart is hard to translate , it has a language of its own .

it was all so strange and so surreal .

i'm not here looking for absolution .

now and then , it seems that life is just too much .

be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers .

if you could only see the beast you've made of me .

pretty little face stopped me in my tracks .

i'm aching to attack .

you want a revelation , some kind of resolution .

it's so easy to say it to a crowd , but it's so hard to say it to you aloud .

i don't want your heart , it leaves me cold .

i am no mother , i am no bride , i am king .

she's a cruel mistress , and a bargain must be made .

well , me and my ghosts had a hell of a time .

with all my education i can't seem to command my heart .

it's a conversation i just can't have tonight .

you left me in the dark . no dawn , no day .

jesus christ , it hurts .

a woman is a changeling , always shifting shape .

the very thing you're best at is the thing that hurts the most .

i'll cut your little heart out 'cause you made me cry .

i knew that somehow , i could find my way back .

a thousand armies couldn't keep me out .

i'm ready to suffer and i'm ready to hope .

you've got the love i need to see me through .

is this how it is ? is this how it's always been ?

you keep me up at night .

oh , tell me it's not over yet .

no walls can keep me protected .

i'm going out , i'm gonna drink myself to death .

time goes quicker between the two of us .

would you leave me if i told you what i'd done ?

now , there's no holding back .

oh god , you're gonna get it .

you need your rotten heart and dazzling pain like diamond rings .

in the dark , i can hear your heartbeat .

i never knew my killer would be coming from within .

i was never as good as i always thought i was , but i knew how to dress it up .

don't forget me when i let the water take me .

this world is a beast of a burden .

you know i still like you the most .

what a thing to admit .

sometimes i think it's getting better , then it gets much worse .

i'm on fire , but i'm trying not to show it .

you are the space in my bed .

would you have it any other way ?

things go wrong , no matter what i do .

you make a fool of death with your beauty .

now she sleeps with one eye open , and that's the price she'll pay .

they were there when i woke up this morning .

heaven help me , i need to make it right .

until i wrap myself inside your arms , i cannot rest .

when someone looks at me with real love , i don't like it very much .

would you leave me if i told you what i've become ?

i'm always running from something .

it's good to be alive , crying into cereal at midnight .

okay , but let's discuss this at the hospital .

i know everybody lets you down , and i'll do the same .

your heart is the only place i can call home .

i wish to remain nameless , and live without shame .

sometimes i feel like saying "lord , i just don't care" .

i would put my words into poetry for you if i knew how .

if they ever let me out , i'm really gonna let it out .

but know , in some way , i'm there with you .

i've been wandering the streets for days .

don't let them get you down , you're the best thing i've ever seen .

how could anything bad ever happen to you ?

you couldn't have it any other way .

it's the only way i can escape .

what a place to come from .

little did you know your home's really only a town you're just a guest in .

run for your children , for your sisters and brothers .

you can't choose what stays and what fades away .

you'll be sorry that you messed with us .

call me when you need me .

although we stick together , it seems we're stranging each other .

this is as good a place to fall as any .

in your place there were a thousand other faces .

here's to drinks in the dark at the end of my rope .

lay me down , let the only sound be the overflow .

there's no salvation for me now .

i'd do anything to make you stay .

what's in a name ? i still remain the same .

i've been taking chances , i've been setting myself up for the fall .

tell me what you want me to say .

you are the silence in between what i thought and what i said .

i've been a fool , and i've been blind .

i never knew daylight could be so violent .

regrets collect like old friends , here to visit for your darkest moments .

so you packed your bags just to wait out the shitstorm ?

my doe , my dear , my darling ...

you're my head , you're my heart .

everyone lets you down in this brief hole of a town .

i'm not giving up , i'm just giving in .

i've been losing sleep , i've been keeping myself awake .

sometimes i feel like throwing my hands up in the air .

the only solution was to stand and fight .

i don't know how it started , don't know how to stop it .

i'm done with my graceless heart .

i can never leave the past behind .

do they speak to you ? 'cause they speak to me too .

i thought that love was a kind of emptiness .

it's hard to dance with a devil on your back .

sometimes i wonder if i should be medicated .

every demon wants his pound of flesh .

tell me what all the sighing's about .

could you tell from the moment we met ?

i heard your voice as clear as day ... you told me i should concentrate .

all my girls have their lace and their crimes .

i like to keep some things to myself .

no one asks any questions here .

the feeling comes so fast and i can't control it .

you came over me like some holy rite .

i was screaming out a language i had no idea existed before .

i thought that love was on stage , giving yourself away to strangers .

leave all your love and your longing behind , you can't carry it with you if you want to survive .

i thought that love was in the drugs , but the more i took the more it took away .

i never wanted anything from you , except everything you had and what's left after that too .

i don't want your future , i don't need your past . one grand moment is all i ask .

[obesify-yourself]

feedees: a manifatso

i know you're out there.

you're like me: you think anything worth doing is worth overdoing. you think a body, either yours or a consenting partner, is a beautiful soft thing worth spoiling. worth indulgence. worth worship.

and you're full of nervous, feverish curiosity: this body could be softer, couldn't it? shouldn't it? wider hips? rounder belly? where would the stretch marks appear? how quickly will this body outgrow its old clothes? how much can this body eat in one sitting?

and then you're reaching exciting new firsts: this body is the biggest it's ever been. this body has never been so sensitive. this body has outgrown its wardrobe, its seatbelt, its bed, its bathtub. this body has never eaten so much in a snack, a meal, a sitting, a day, a week.

and now you're reveling in it: this body has become a vehicle for simulation, satisfaction, oversatiation. this body is so greedy, so lazy, so needy. this body is so expansive, so lush, so soft. this body craves more, and it will have what it wants. this body is horny, this body is hungry, this body is both? this body wants to consume everything, burst buttons, break furniture, consume everything, and beyond.

but it's not just the body, is it? it never was. it's a hungry, greedy mindset, choosing to push a body to the limits of human capability. it's looking for ways to experience sensory and sensual overload, to give in to every impulse and succumb to pure appetite. this isn't just a kink-- on some level this is reaching into the realm of the divine to pursue a lascivious, insatiable lifestyle hitherto only known by the gods. humans have never known this kind of life, never been able to consume so much, grow so large, and feel so much pleasure.

but you will.

maybe that makes you a deviant, maybe that makes you unusual, but for however long you want, i want you to feast. i want you to gorge yourself and experience new plateaus of rapture, surrounding yourself with admiring online onlookers, mouths agape in worshipful awe, and the remains of the entire costco cake you just demolished. i want you panting, sweating, groaning and bursting at the seams with your sheer fucking gluttony. i want you round and bulging, bloated and engorged, rolls jiggling, as you moan and writhe under the weight of yet another 10K caloric cataclysm and come to the orgasmic realization that you have finally, truly

let

yourself

GO.

[blacktabbygames]

Hello! I absolutely love Slay The Princess! I was wondering, were there any major inspirations that helped you create this game that you wouldn’t mind sharing? I’m always fascinated by the art that inspires the art I love so I’d be very curious and happy to hear what vibes helped you all piece together this wonderful game!

It's always tough to pin down inspirations. I think there's kind of three types: 1. Hard inspirations — things that you know are sources of inspiration at the start of a project. Or things that become known sources of inspiration partway through a project. These are sometimes, but not always technical.

2. Soft inspirations — these are more vibes based. Kind of like "what's going through my head on loop while working on a specific chapter." Almost never technical, and for me, this tends to be music more than anything else. (But maybe it's music *from* something specifically)

3. Loose inspirations — these are more along the lines of formative pieces of media. Stuff that seeps into your soul and directs your development as an artist or person, but not in a way where you can specifically tell what its impact is. Sometimes overlaps with #2 Anyways, some examples for each. Hard Inspirations:

• Disco Elysium — IMO hands down the best piece of interactive media ever made, and probably one of the most obvious influences on Slay the Princess. The concept of using internal voices to represent the player's thoughts helped us get around one of the biggest writing challenges in Slay the Princess — if the Princess changes based on your perspective, how do we codify what the player's thinking? The voices were a solution to interpret those choices in sensible ways and inform our players of how the game was reading their choices. Much better than breaking immersion and outright asking players what they tought. • Soma — we didn't play Soma until we were about half of the way through our work on Slay the Princess, but it was one of those games that felt so thematically on-point. I still think about this game most weeks. • The Stanley Parable — I like when narrators get frustrated at players for doing silly things. It helps when your narrator is British, too.

• Madoka — it's like 12 episodes long. Just watch it.

• Evangelion — Similar bucket to Soma. Didn't watch it until we were most of the way done, but boy does it have some similar vibes. Soft Inspirations/Music I've Kept On Loop While Working On the Game I won't tell you what music was looped for what routes. • Ceremonials (Florence + the Machine) — one of my all time favorite artists, and just a phenomenal album.

• Presumably Dead Arm (Sidney Gish) — super underrated. No Dogs Allowed is a great album.

• Haunted (Poe) — another banger album.

• Black Holes and Revelations (Muse)

I'll leave that third bucket unanswered lest this post become 50 pages long.

[heathermason6060]

Serial Killer!Daryl Dixon x f!Reader Smut: Teeth and Pearl earrings

Warnings: serial killer daryl, rough smut, inconsiderate smut, NO noncon, stalking, stealing, mentions of killing

Summary: Daryl can't decide if he wants to kill you, or fuck you. Switches between Daryl's and Readers POV.

Notes: SO SORRY ITS LONG This was really fun but really challenging to write, I tried to keep him as in character as possible, but that's hard when making him a serial killer lol! I'm making this a two pt, with the reader finding out in the next part.

Some days Daryl thought his luck might run out. He'd been lucky for too long. As far as he knew, no one suspected a thing. Every time he'd go out “hunting”, no matter how long he was gone for, he'd always managed to bring back something. Deer, rabbits, squirrels when prey was scarce. 

It was easier now that the world had ended to keep it a secret. No threat of cops catching on, no more cameras on every street corner, no need to try to erase every possible trace.

The only thing he found to prove difficult had been finding a place to keep his trophies. He didn't really have a preference, hair, a tooth, or a piece of clothing, it was something he didn't understand the meaning of but something he did each time. He kept it in his room in the vent above his bed, behind a few boxes of books. The week prior he took it down to put the wedding ring of a man who tried attacking Rick out on their supply run, he’d had to restrain himself and keep the stabbing to a minimum because of Rick's presence. 

He found himself growing uncomfortably interested in you. A revelation that he really, really didn't like. You were off limits, you were one of Rick's closest friends, you'd been there way too long. And you clearly hadn't done anything deserving of the things he daydreamed about doing to you, unlike the victims he’d killed before.

The more he tried to push those thoughts away, the stronger they came back. His hands around your throat, the way your eyes would tear up as you struggled against him and the fact someone you trusted so much was the one ending your life. 

His eyes followed you over the flames of the campfire as you took your plates and went inside. Aaron had hosted a little get together in his yard in Alexandria, cooking dinner for everyone in celebration of the newest addition to the town. Some nobody he found out there on their own, who jumped at the idea of joining a large group of people. 

If Daryl had to kill you, he’d keep a lock of your hair. 

He couldn't stop staring at it as you went inside. His mind flooded with flashes of pictures of it, his hand in it, stroking your soft locks before grabbing a fistful and putting a knife to your throat. The way you'd squeal and beg, squirm against him as he presses the edge firmer into your skin. 

He bit the inside of his cheek and looked away after you disappeared in the house you shared with Maggie and a few others. 

It was like you were practically begging him to follow you. 

Five different times that week you'd gone out on your own to ‘clear your head’, whatever the hell that meant. 

First time he heard Glenn mention to someone that you'd just gone out beyond the walls, he wanted to follow you. The idea was far too tempting. But he didn't, he knew damn well he couldn't trust himself with you all alone, no one to hear you scream. 

The fantasies he had begun to form disgusted him. He didn't just go out and kill any random human he felt like, he had to have some sort of rules or else things would get out of hand real fast. If he were to get caught, it needed to be someone Rick wouldn't think twice about him killing. Some raider, or any kind of piece of shit who'd be a threat to their group. He needed to have a fallback, worst case scenario one of Alexandria caught him. 

Second rule, none of his people. Ever. His morals were questionable, if he had it his way he'd go out and hunt down any human he came across outside those walls.

But never his people. In a hypocritical way he did care about them, in the same way that any normal sane human being would care about their family. He could never even dream about hurting any of them, he’d rather die. But they had to earn that place in his heart. 

It was a wonder you hadn't been killed by anyone else yet. The way you walked through the woods with your light pink sweater, leaving tracks in the leaves that a blind man could follow, and that fucking humming. He could easily track you with his eyes closed for miles with the way you kept humming. 

You'd gone into an old shack in the backyard of an abandoned trailer.

A part of him felt angry then, how were you so stupid? If it had been someone else following you, and not Daryl, who knows what they'd do to you? And you'd have no idea until it was too late. 

He paused at the thought. If he wasn't careful, that's exactly what would happen. 

He followed you home about half a mile behind the entire time. When you were at the road that led to the gates he turned back, deciding it was the perfect time to go hunting. 

The crossbow on his back weighed heavier than it normally did as he slunk down into the underbrush at the forest's edge. He hadn't decided on what animal yet, but the frustration and confusion alone caused by you made it pretty easy to guess. 

He wiped the blood from the molar before he tucked it in the box in his vent, and decided to pay Maggie and Glenn a visit.

The house was completely empty, so he let his curiosity get the better of him.

Your room was pretty. 

Your bed, a whopping full size mattress, made his pull out look like a military cot. You had an array of paintings on your walls, he remembered some of them. As soon as you got your own room in Alexandria you went out on runs with Glenn and Maggie just so you could decorate it. 

His eyes went from painting to painting, then to your dresser. You kept it unexpectedly neat for someone who behaved so sloppily in the woods. Your journal, a small glass box you kept your sentimental jewelry in, a few makeup products. What drew his attention was the jewelry box, he could see the pair of pearl earrings you used to constantly wear. You never took them out back then, not even to sleep. 

Orange bled into a dark purple against his face and he blinked, coming back to himself in front of your bedroom window. A strange confusion twisted in his gut when he realized he'd just been standing there, staring out your window for so long the sun had set.

You weren't stupid, or blind. 

You'd have to be a fool to not notice the way Daryl had been taking interest in you. 

There'd been several times in Alexandria where you'd be busy doing something, turn around and see him standing off in the distance, staring at you like fuckin’ Michael Myers. 

If you'd go on runs and he came with you, you'd often glance at him to see him already looking. He'd always look away, pull out a cigarette and act like he wasn't just burning holes in the back of your head. 

You'd come to the obvious conclusion that he had a crush on you. 

What else could it be? You'd always thought he was really hot, men like that were hard to come by. Quiet, observant, strong as hell, he’d do anything for the people he loved and he wasn't an annoying pervert who'd suddenly turn into an asshole if you rejected him. Not that you'd ever reject him. 

Each time you caught him staring your heart would race and you'd try to give a friendly smile, but apparently he was too shy for that. Which sucked, because of all the men you could have the hots for, Daryl was the most unapproachable and intimidating. 

“Hey, have you guys seen an earring laying around anywhere?” You asked at dinner, glancing around the table. Carol had invited the inner group over for dinner, she'd made pasta and cookies. 

You could never get enough of Carol's cookies. 

“What's it look like?” Maggie asked beside Glenn, the two of them looking at you thoughtfully from across the table. 

“Just a pearl earring. The one's I always used to wear.” You took a sip of your sweet tea, looking at the other faces to see if any of them had a split second look of recognition. 

“Not that I can remember.” Glenn cleared his throat and shook his head after swallowing a heavy mouthful of alfredo pasta. 

“I'll keep an eye out for it.” Rick tipped his head to you, nodding slightly before continuing eating. You smiled in return, knowing if anyone was likely to find it, it’d be him. 

He'd grown very fond of you recently, the image of you had shifted in his head from another person he was responsible for, to a dear friend he could trust with his life. Mostly due to the way you were with Carl, always doing your best to be a figure of comfort to him. Not as close as he'd grown to Michonne, but more of a young aunt who takes too much interest in art and jewelry.

“I haven't seen you wear those in a while.” Carl spoke up. 

You sighed when no one had any leads. “Yeah, I know. Just been worried about losing them, they're pretty important.” You took the last bite of your cookie, dusting your hands together before speaking again. “It's really weird, they were both in my jewelry box last time I checked, but this morning there was only one.” 

“You think someone stole one?” Carol's voice held a tight tone of suspicion, her eyes narrowing so slightly you could've missed it if you blinked. 

“No, I mean, no one goes in our house besides you all. And I know none of you care about a single earring.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek in deep thought. 

You felt that familiar sensation of warmth on your cheek, like someone had a hot iron near you. 

You turned your head to your left, met with Daryl's eyes from his spot at the end of the other side of the table. 

To your surprise he didn't look away like he usually did. He kept his gaze steady, his elbows propped on the table and his hands clasped together in front of his mouth. 

You didn't feel butterflies like usual, and your cheeks burned for a different reason. For the first time you were the one to look away. 

Rick had put together a group to scout out further into town for more resources. The usual suspects, Aaron, Sasha, Rosita, Abraham, Daryl and of course, you.

He hadn't made up his mind on if he was glad or not. He'd been stupid, feeding the sparks of his mild obsession, and that pretty little pearl earring he kept in his jeans pocket felt like twenty pounds of red-hot metal.

They'd set up camp for the night in the woods right on the outskirts of town. Abraham had set up mediocre sound traps around the small clearing, and Daryl couldn't help but snort when you walked right into one and the cans failed to clash together. 

Fire was a dumb idea too. 

Daryl had started to remember why he preferred being alone. Aaron was too used to the safety of the Alexandria walls. 

Abraham told him he'd better put it out after dark, also throwing in a passive aggressive insult, and Aaron stuttered out an agreement. 

It was getting harder and harder to keep his eyes off you. He sat across the fire from you, watching you smile and laugh and joke with Rosita like you were two young girls in summer camp.

As the flames of his fixation on you grew, so did his confliction. 

He had no problems with you. He'd barely even paid attention to you before you'd arrived at Alexandria, you were just another background character in his story that wouldn't make a difference if you died or not. But you'd grown close to Rick and Maggie, two people he cared about. So by extension, he cared about you too. 

He wasn't sure when it started. It kind of just happened over time.

He was always an outside observer, keeping details of each person he knew on a list in his mind. 

But you, he couldn't think of any reason you'd be so special. It was obvious you were smoking hot, he wasn't blind. But he'd seen his share of beautiful women. Maybe it was the fact you seemed to always have luck on your side, you could go out singing in the woods and never run into any trouble. 

If the two of you weren't careful, that luck might change tonight. 

Abraham and Aaron were busy looking at a map of the town and figuring out what pathing they'd take in the morning. Sasha and Rosita were sitting on their bedrolls cleaning their guns and talking about meaningless things, he didn't care enough to listen. 

You were the odd man out. Just like him. 

Sitting in the dirt on the other side of the fire, fidgeting with a stick in front of you while you thought. 

He could tell you knew he was staring at you again. And judging by the way you were forcing yourself to keep your eyes on the stick you were drawing circles in the dirt with, you were trying your best not to look up. 

He didn't expect you to look up. He almost let the confusion show on his face, caught off guard by his incorrect prediction. He saw the way your cheeks flushed even though the light of the fire made your face glow orange. He flared his nostrils at the sight, why'd you have to make it so damn hard?

His heart dropped when you suddenly stood and walked off into the woods. 

No one had even noticed, too wrapped up in their conversations. Another thing that succeeded in his self restraint slipping away. 

Daryl followed after counting three minutes in his head. He'd really hoped you'd come back before then, praying you'd be lucky enough to slip back through the trees before he got to his feet. 

It was dark in the woods away from the campfire. 

He could hear you a few yards ahead, your boots crunching lightly on leaves despite your attempts at being quiet. 

He kept his distance, just following the sounds of your footsteps and the slight silhouette of your body, the moonlight seeping through the treetops barely grazing your hair and shoulders. 

This was way too natural to him. 

Now out here you were just like any other victim, but it brought him comfort knowing there'd be no way he could hurt you and get away with it. The two of you disappear off into the woods at night and only Daryl comes back? He might think the people around the fire made stupid decisions sometimes, but they weren't stupid enough to not be suspicious of him. 

Maybe he could say walkers got you. 

He clenched his jaw when he realized he was at such a desperate point that an idea that stupid even crossed his mind. 

“Daryl?”

The sound of your sweet voice made him physically recoil, his hand falling from the knife in his belt that he didn't realize he'd been gripping. 

He could barely make out your figure in front of him. You were facing him, maybe six feet away, standing underneath a large pine tree. 

There was no use in hiding. Your eyes would've adjusted enough by now to see the shape of him. 

Finally, he answered, his voice coming out in more of a growl than a human speaking. “Shouldn't be out here alone.” 

There was silence before you filled it with the crunching of your footsteps moving towards him. 

His body tensed as you drew closer, now able to make out the pretty features of your face. An image of you flashed in his head, blood running down your nose and lips, tears in your eyes, your fingernails raking down his wrist. 

“I just needed a minute to clear my head.” You said it like it was the most natural thing in the world, like you weren't out in the dead of night stomping around loud enough for any walkers within a five mile radius to hear. 

Daryl said nothing, his eyes fixed on your face as you slowly crept near. Although he hated not being able to read your expressions, he was thankful for it, because he was hanging on by a thread and if you even showed the slightest hint of fear, he'd snap. He wouldn't be able to resist if your lips trembled, or if your eyes widened and you stuttered a single apprehensive syllable. 

But as his eyes adjusted even further, his mouth ran dry and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He felt like he'd been slapped in the face. That would've been less of a stun than the look you were giving him, standing only a few inches away from him. 

Your plan had worked. You'd been plotting it ever since Rick paired you up in that group, the silent attention Daryl had been giving you ended up driving you mad. You found it absurd that all it took was a few stares to make you feel like he was some A list celebrity giving you special treatment.

Maybe it was a little stupid the way you went about it, but the curiosity eating you up inside didn't have you thinking straight. Walking off into the woods was one thing, but at night? In woods so thick you could barely see your hand outstretched in front of you? Blindly trekking through the leaves in the mere hope that he'd follow you and make a move? 

You hadn't had sex in way too long. 

Yeah, that was it.

That's why you were making the decisions of a dumb bitch in a horror movie. But at least it was Daryl you were after, you knew you'd be fine if you ran into trouble. 

You thought you'd be fine.

Emboldened by the darkness and privacy you'd secured for yourself, you approached him. Your heart hammered against your chest, and you had to bite your lip to keep from panicking, the fear of rejection or a humiliating scolding almost made you change your mind. 

Your eyes strained in the dark to make out the features of his face. 

He looked almost expressionless, but there was something in his eyes, something that had your steady breathing turning into shuddering breaths coming from your mouth. His gaze looked like a textbook example of ‘dark’. Your heart felt like it was literally about to explode, and when you saw his upper lip barely twitch, you let out an accidental sigh, too exhilarated to feel embarrassed with yourself. 

He was right in front of you then. You'd crossed every single inch of ground that separated you, and you could smell his signature scent of cigarettes, smoke, those spicy little mint leaves he'd chew on for his oral fixation. There was a hint of male musk as well, just barely there after a day walking outside in the woods. 

You could see his chest rising and falling more dramatically now. 

He was still dead silent, his eyes never leaving yours, even as you looked over every inch of him. You'd been biting your lip so hard it started to ache, and so you released it, your mouth opening to speak, you yourself unaware of what you planned to say.

The sound of Abraham’s whistle signal breaking through the thick silence had you feeling like you fell out of a plane. You sucked in a gasp and pulled your hand back from where it hung inches away from Daryl's chest. 

Daryl's posture snapped into something so different it gave you whiplash. He was Daryl Dixon again, the sight so drastic you couldn't help but feel unnerved. 

He whistled back before looking at you once more. It was still too dark to tell if he looked relieved or disappointed. “C'mon.” 

Keeping his distance from people had never been a problem for Daryl. But what you did that night had permanently altered something inside him. 

He didn't know if he wanted to fuck you or kill you. Maybe both. 

You became his new favorite pastime. 

When everyone fell asleep that night, he sat with his back against the same tree he'd been sitting under for hours, his eyes keeping their unwavering stance on your sleeping form. All the while he imagined hundreds of different things to do to you. 

His mind kept going between strangling the life out of you, watching it bleed from your eyes. Or the other one, the image where he was burying his face between your legs with his tongue and teeth sucking and nipping, licking till it became too much and you begged him to stop.

He carefully planned out his next encounter with you over the course of days. He acted it out the night of a “party” at Aaron and Eric’s house, so focused on his plan he didn't even know what they were having a party for.

Daryl didn't care if you caught him staring anymore. That night in the woods he could practically smell how bad you wanted it, it didn't matter to him anymore if he disregarded all basic manners.

The last time there was a party in Alexandria was when Rick's group joined. Daryl hadn't gone to that one, the feeling of being an outdoor cat watching indoor cats eating their fancy wet food too much for him. 

But he'd do anything to continue this little game with you. It was new, and there were no rules. 

For the most part he was his usual self, sticking to the side and keeping enough casual conversation to blend in. The perfect balance between himself, and the part of him that imagined in great detail all the sounds you'd make. 

He took a sip of the beer Aaron forced in his hands, his eyes looking back to you. 

You looked like a fresh cut of meat just waiting for him to sink his teeth into. 

The dress you wore hugged every single piece of your body, fitting you in a way that was almost poetic, but it was modest enough that it didn't draw unwanted attention. You were beside Rick most of the night, happily chatting and drinking champagne in a way that oozed confidence. 

Every now and then you'd look at him, and he'd savor all the details of the way your confidence faded into something he didn't have a word for. You looked nervous, but hungry, like someone reaching out a hesitant hand to stroke the pelt of a tamed predator. 

Daryl wanted to bite that hand, hold it in his harsh jaws while your other one stroked his fur. 

You played your part well, after most of the formal greetings and casual conversation had been taken care of you slipped out the back door. 

He counted three minutes in his head before making his exit, which was stopped by Carol.

“Leaving already, huh?” She gave him a knowing smirk, unaware that her assumption he was just bored was incorrect. He'd never been more entertained. 

“Yeah, shit ain't for me anyway.” He played along with a nonchalant shrug, pulling a lone cigarette from his shirt pocket. “Done enough already just by comin’.” 

Carol nodded, that smirk still on her face as she looked at the people standing around making friendly conversation. “Don't get into any trouble. Don't wanna help you hide bodies again.”

Daryl snorted, the cigarette bobbing between his lips. If there was anyone he'd come to for help hiding bodies it definitely would've been her. “Yeah yeah. Night Carol.” He gave her a pat on her shoulder before turning sideways to fit through the cracked door. 

He hadn't expected you to be so good at this. He'd been prepared to walk down the steps of the porch and see you standing down the sidewalk, waiting for him like he was your prom date. 

You weren't too good, though. He found you rather easily. The bottom of your heels left slight little indents in the dirt, leading between the houses, down the street, and right up to the sidewalk in front of your house. 

His heart rate sped up a little when he remembered that house was completely empty, all but you.

Or so he thought.

You weren't anywhere to be seen. He checked every room, growing increasingly irritated when each one turned up nothing. He was about to give up and just head home when he checked your room one last time. 

Something caught his eye, a blade of grass, his eyes followed the bits of grass to see those black heels sitting under your dresser, taking the place of your boots.

You tried to keep from anxiously picking at your fingernails as you stood behind the thick underbrush at the woodline, watching for any sign of movement along the outside walls. 

There was a spot at the back wall near a platform no one really watched anymore, which is where the both of you had gone to leave without being seen. 

You were beginning to think maybe you'd read him wrong. Your heart skipped a beat as you remembered that look he gave you at the party, it was impossible to describe. He was lacking any sort of expression, but in his eyes held this darkness that made swallowing your champagne hard when you'd seen it. The way he leaned against the wall near a group of people, his eyes steady and fixed on you, you could only decipher that as a look of craving for something he'd been wanting for a long time.

If you hadn't been looking at the Alexandrian walls, you would've missed it. For a split second you saw a flash of dark clothing, even darker hair, and you darted from your position behind the thickets.

Thankfully it wasn't as dark as that one night. 

The sun had dipped down below the trees and out of sight, but it left just enough light for the sky to be a dark blue. The full moon made it even brighter, and soon you were in one of the houses right outside Alexandria. 

You stood in the living room and waited. You'd already checked the house for walkers before this, not keen on the idea of a growling monstrosity of green and purple flesh ruining whatever might happen there when Daryl arrived. 

If he arrived. 

You were beginning to think maybe he wasn't coming. The heavy front door was open just a few inches, you'd wanted to be able to see him approach the house, to take him by surprise, maybe giving him the same fright he'd given you countless times.

Suddenly, the air grew heavy. You felt that feeling again, like you were in danger, the feeling you might get being stalked by a large cat. 

There was a breeze behind you, and you recognized it as a draft from the back window being opened. 

Although it was happening behind you, your mind raced as you played out the scene. His hands bracing against the walls on either side of the window, his first leg dipping over like a spider emerging from its tunnel. 

The tap of a boot meeting the wood floor under the window, so light and careful you almost didn't hear it. A second foot, he was in the house, only across the room from you. You held your breath as the footsteps drew near, slow, deliberate, you could tell just by the timing of his steps he was approaching you like a leopard closing in on a wounded deer. Confident, patient, nearly sadistic.

The feeling of his breath on your bare shoulder sent chills through your body and goosebumps down your arms. It was cold and barely there, you felt like if you turned around you'd be met with an empty house.

His fingers were just as light as his breath, tracing the thin dress strap over your shoulder, down and to the middle of your spine. 

Never in your wildest dreams did you think Daryl could be this confident in this way. He acted like every antagonist in a romance novel, dark and self-assured with every move he made. 

You felt yourself relaxing as you leaned your back against his chest, feeling the leather of his vest on your skin, as well as the buttons on his black shirt. 

The feeling of his hand snaking over your shoulder and up to your neck succeeded in sending every last drop of blood in your body down between your legs. You were fully prepared for the best slow, deep, mind-blowing sex of your life, but that quickly changed when his hand wrapped around your throat and squeezed.

It wasn't a firm and sexy squeeze, it was a ‘wait that's actually way too tight’ squeeze. 

Your eyes shot back open but you tried to keep your cool, your hands instinctively reaching up to grab at his wrist.

Apparently, Daryl didn't like that. 

He suddenly had your back pressed against the wall of the living room with movements so quick and precise it made your head spin. You looked up at his face, lit with a dim blue light from the windows, searching for any signs that would be cause for panic. 

He decided to give you that reason you were looking for, and wrapped his hand around your neck again.

For once, Daryl wasn't fighting some internal battle on if he should kill you or not. 

He'd made the decision as soon as he crept in the window and saw you standing in the living room, facing the front door and biting at your nails. 

That decision wasn't final, though, you had the power in your hands to change his mind. 

Hopefully you'd be as lucky as you always were. 

He looked down at your face as he kept his one handed grip on your throat, burning the image in his mind. Your eyes were wide and full of this otherworldly beautiful fear, so much uncertainty it made his already hard cock twitch. 

Your hands were still on his wrist, as if it gave you some sort of control, something he found endearing. You still trusted him, you still thought you had a chance to regain the control you thought you had this whole time.

“This what you wanted?” He breathed, looking from your eyes to your lips. Your face had turned a shade darker from his grip, your lips turning a pretty hue of red. “Wanted me to hunt you down, and then what? Huh?”

He watched for your reaction, waiting to see how you'd play the hand you'd been dealt, and to his pleasant surprise you managed to nod. 

Daryl's hand loosened just enough to send the blood back to your head and you sucked in a deep breath, before letting out a trembling whimper. 

His lips twitched into a soft smirk, and he dipped his head down to press his lips against yours. You kissed him hungrily, swallowing the growl from his throat as your bare knee pressed against the aching bulge in his jeans. You moved it in firm circles, and he decided that earned a returned gesture.

He used his knee to roughly spread your thighs before giving you the same treatment. The whine that drew from your lips, and the way your eyes rolled back in your head, had him letting out a deep groan. He ground his knee up between your legs, long enough to feel the wetness seeping from your panties and through his jeans. 

You didn't get a chance to tell him about the bed you'd cleaned upstairs for this. Which was unfortunate, given you'd gone out of your way to do so, not that he would've cared anyway. 

He grabbed your shoulder and spun you around, fingers finding the zipper of your dress and unceremoniously pulling it down to your ass. Your heavy breathing fueled his desire and he grabbed a fistful of your hair before yanking your dress down with his other hand so fast it burned. 

With the grip he had in your hair he forcefully guided you onto the floor, releasing you only to settle between your thighs and slide his hands up your bare chest to his favorite part of you. 

You got that look on your face again. Lust blown pupils, breathing softly through your mouth. You still hadn't figured it out yet, that you could very easily be in danger. 

This time he used both hands. 

A yelp got choked from your throat as he squeezed, allowing himself a few seconds to please himself. The white of your eyes turned a light pink at the edges, a few beads of tears forming there as well, the sight making his dick throb. 

He released your neck and you gasped, sucking down lungfuls of air as your head spun. You felt like you were on a carousel the way you got so dizzy. 

While you regained your bearings he unbuckled his belt and took out his dick, his right hand wasting no time in giving himself relief. You took the opportunity to slide off your panties, and when he saw the glistening of your wet folds in the deep blue lighting he growled. The sinful sound earned a whimper from you, and he refocused on your face to see a pitiful look of impatience.

Daryl switched to stroking himself with his left hand, and guided the tip up through your slick folds. He savored the way you looked then, biting your bottom lip as you prepared yourself. 

Instead of giving the satisfaction he pulled his tip back and carried on fucking his hand. As soon as your eyes opened and you went to protest, his free hand went right back to your neck.

He loved the way you looked then, desperate and pathetic, so full of frustration it leaked out through tears in your eyes. He squeezed hard, completely cutting off blood and air to your brain, tugging his dick faster as you squirmed.

Daryl lifted up his knee to pin one of your thighs to the floor in an effort to keep you still. He took his hand away from his cock and spit in his palm, wasting no time in getting back to touching himself. 

He could've easily come right there. If he wanted to, he could keep squeezing just a few more moments, and your squirming would've stopped. He could spill his load on your stomach and effortlessly slip into his cleanup routine, but aside from the fact that part of him didn't really want to kill you, the way you orgasmed had him fucking frozen.

He hadn't even touched you, but you came. 

Your eyebrows scrunched together and the leg he didn't have pinned down wrapped around his waist, your hips rolling in a desperate attempt to get friction against your clit. He relaxed his hand from your throat and you let out this bubbly whimpering sound that made his hips instinctively jerk forward. 

Daryl watched you, holding his breath without realizing it. She just came from you chokin’ her. The words repeated over and over in his mind as you rode out the last waves of your orgasm. 

He had to snatch his hand away from his dick to keep his own orgasm at bay. Not yet, not a chance in hell, not after you just did that. You deserved something for showing him the hottest thing he never would've thought possible.

His body went on autopilot. He slid down from your body, planting kisses in a trail from your neck to your naval, down to your thighs, then back up again. He buried his face between your legs, not giving you a moment's notice or time to recover. He swirled his tongue around your clit, grazing his teeth against it before sucking it between his lips.

You bucked against him like a wild horse, the stimulation so much your body didn't know how to react. It was desperate, finally getting some stimulation, but you'd just had a world shattering orgasm only seconds before. He wrapped his arms under your thighs and pulled you down against his mouth again, his grip tight to keep you from squirming away again. 

The only control you had was your ability to choose what to do with your hands. Your fingers wrapped around clumps of his hair, winding up so tight it made his scalp burn. 

He growled in response and took your clit between his teeth, holding it there as a stern warning, only letting it go when you stopped pulling so damn hard.

If he had the power to freeze time for everything but the two of you, he would've eaten your pussy for hours. But he settled on just long enough to pull another orgasm from you, sliding the tip of his tongue from your throbbing clit to the new trail of slick cum dripping out of you. 

Daryl didn't give you time to recover from that one either. As soon as your cry faded out he flipped you on your back, ignoring the yelp of protest you made when your hip bones dug into the hard floor beneath you. 

The only warning he gave you before shoving his cock into you was a quick slide of his swollen tip between your puffy folds. Just right enough to lubricate the head, and then he drove it in.

The way you groaned in pain from the stretch almost made him cum right there. He stilled inside you, not for you to adjust but for him to fall back away from the edge. The benefit to you was just lucky. 

“Fuck.” It was the first time in a while that he'd spoken, and it was solely due to the way your hot plush walls squeezed his dick like a fist. 

He should've known you'd feel like that, he hadn't seen you with a man the entire time he'd known you. His chest shuddered with his ragged breaths, and once he was ready he put both hands flat on your upper back. He put his weight there, keeping him upright so he could lift his hips and fuck his dick into you with all his weight.

Your arms slid out in front of you, your hands grasping for something, anything, you needed something to hold onto.

He wouldn't grant you that kindness either. He rested his knees back on the floor on either side of your thighs and grabbed your arms, bending them painfully behind you. When he held your wrists together at the base of your spine he started fucking you again. 

Each rough snap of his hips drove a whiney moan from you. He liked that a lot, it sounded similar to a different type of crying, and he slowed down to keep his dick from getting friction burns. While you used the opportunity to squirm under him in an attempt to get more comfortable he spit on his fingers, letting it drip onto the base of his cock before changing positions once again.

He moved your arms up over your head and laid down on top of you, the weight of him pressing down on your back pushing all the air from your lungs. 

Your check rubbed against the floor as he started thrusting again, this time settling on a new pace, rough and fast despite the fact he barely drew his dick out. If he wasnt fucking you so roughly, the feeling of his head resting against yours would’ve given you butterflies. You became acutely aware of the closeness, there wasn't an inch of space between your bodies, and every grunt and groan he made had his lips brushing up against the side of your ear.

He used his hips to grind his dick inside you, the new motion drawing filthy gasps and whines from you from the way his tip seemed to roll and dig into each and every crevice inside you. You'd never felt anything like that before, so used to the normal thrusting. He only pulled back about an inch, rolling his hips in a way that had you shamelessly moaning. 

Daryl moved your hair from the back of your neck, pushing it up and away before leaning down to dig his teeth into the skin right at the base of your neck. He bit hard, something you didn't expect, and you cried out in pain, your body jerking under him. 

It was hard for you to breathe with his full weight on your back. The heat of his body gave you uncomfortable hot flashes, adding to the sweat you'd already made. Your hair stuck to your forehead and you made an attempt to push it off, which was made difficult when he changed paces once again.

He started drawing out further now, but he'd just drive back in harder, faster, causing your body to grind roughly against the wood floor. The skin over your hip bones started to burn as well as your nipples, something you found almost agonizing but shamefully pleasurable at the same time. 

He fucked you like that until you came for the third time, now around his dick. He pushed himself off your back and used his hands on your shoulders to keep you pinned down, watching as he breathed through his mouth at the way his cock disappeared inside you. 

You were lucky he felt like a new position. 

He waited until you stopped writhing under him from your orgasm before grabbing your thigh to turn you on your back. 

Relief washed over you as the pain in your hip bones faded, only to have that relief taken from you when he grabbed your waist and yanked you up and off the floor. 

Your feet didn't even touch the ground, your body swaying as you tried to get a sense of gravity, Daryl's hands tight on your sides as he took you to the couch. 

All you could do at that point was relax and let him move your body for you, your hands shaking against your chest as he sat you on the arm of the couch. You let him push you down on your back, your ass and legs dangling over the arm for a few dizzying seconds before he grabbed your legs and held them around his waist. 

Daryl pushed his dick back in your abused pussy and groaned, gripping your thighs tighter so he could pull you closer to him.

Your back arched almost uncomfortably, your hips angled up against his pelvis, the only part of your back that touched the cushions of the couch ended up being your shoulders. You were thankful you could at least breathe now. 

Daryl was skilled at taking small bits of relief like that away. 

He leaned down and bit your already sore nipple so hard and so suddenly you nearly shouted. Your hands instinctively went to grab his hair for support, but he leaned back and your fingers fell from his face. 

He was proud of the new angle. Your pelvis tilted up and him fucking down into you sent him as deep as possible, and soon he began fucking you rough enough that it bordered closely on too painful. 

Lucky for you, you liked it. Your walls burned pleasurably from the dragging of his dick, and he started speaking again. 

“Look at you, dirty little whore.” He teased as he looked down at your abused body with a grin. Your nipples and hips were red from him fucking you into the floor, your neck equally as red from the force of his hands. 

Your sweet, sweet pretty face, twisted up in a mix of pleasure and pain, your cheeks red, your lips swollen, streaks of black makeup running down your face. The sight made him seriously consider picking up drawing, because that look was, without a doubt, the best thing he'd seen in his entire life. 

“Daryl,” You finally plucked the courage to speak to him and he raised a brow, impressed, he'd gotten used to you taking it so well without any complaints. “Too much.” Your voice broke as you whined, another orgasm bringing you to shambles. 

He snorted as he watched you come around his dick yet again, your words asking for mercy but your body clearly asking him otherwise. 

“You can take a little more, yeah?” Even he was becoming spent, his heart banging in his chest so hard he could hear the blood in his ears. He slid his hands down your sweaty chest to your breasts, his dick twitching inside you at the way you cried when he pinched that same sore nipple. 

“I don't know,” Another wave of shivers overcame you, eliciting exhausted, long and shaky whines. Your body couldn't process going a little under two years with little to no sexual activity, and then suddenly being mind numbingly overstimulated with the most exhilarating sex you'd ever had in your life. Each time you thought you'd gotten used to it he'd pull the rug out from under you, either by causing pain or giving you more pleasure that you knew what to do with. 

As if on cue you felt his flattened hand smack the side of your face, demanding your focus. Your eyes struggled to find him, your vision fuzzy and wobbly, but when you looked up and saw him your heart fluttered. 

“Look at me. C'mon.” He didn't want you passing out on him, that took all the fun away. 

Despite the obvious fact he had a clear disregard for your comfort or discomfort, the way he was looking down at you sent butterflies through your stomach and chest. His pupils were so blown with lust that you couldn't see the pretty color of his eyes, and his eyelids were heavy with the approach of his orgasm. His lips, glistening from the way his tongue had darted out to wet them, parted as he huffed in ragged breaths. 

You could tell if he had a picture of you like this, he'd be reacting the same way with just his hand. The thought had a moan bubbling past your lips. 

“C'mon.” His hips snapped forward roughly, jerking in a break from his steady aggressive rhythm. You cried out from that, your hands finding the sides of his dangling belt to grab onto like the reins of a horse.

He'd held back his orgasm as long as he could, but the sight of you shaking and trembling under him, exhausted and overstimulated, he couldn't last much longer. Your face twisted in discomfort as he fucked you faster again, your hips suddenly doing their best to wiggle up and away from the frenzy of his dick. 

You'd managed to get a few short moments of relief, sliding backwards until his dick nearly slid out.

His upper lip curled in disbelief, and he shook his head, scoffing at you. “Don't be a baby, you can take it.” You were yanked back down on his dick, the sensation of being forced back into overstimulation had you moaning in distress. 

You nodded your head feverishly, setting your jaw as you looked up at the ceiling, trying your best to keep it together. But each time his hips would ram into yours it made his crotch slam against your clit, and it got too much, your breathing sped up as the panic of overstimulation set in. You really tried then, actually tried to wiggle away, and to your surprise, and much needed relief, he stilled his hips. 

You were expecting him to maybe find a better way to restrain you, or put you in a position you couldn't move from, but he just used the moment to catch his breath before his demeanor changed completely.

“Hey, hey, shh.” The sweetness in his tone made you whimper, your eyes falling closed as he comforted you. It felt so fucking good, you found yourself willing to do anything and everything to feel that tenderness some more. “Yeah, that’s it. Good girl.” He cooed as your breathing slowed and your fingers stopped shaking.

Daryl released your thighs and with unexpected ease, he slipped his hands under the arch in your back, picking you up and moving so he could sit down on the couch, keeping you stuck on his cock the entire time. 

The new position of being on top sent a fresh wave of pleasure flipping in the bottom of your stomach, the tip of his dick pressed right at the end of your walls.

It wasn't painful like you'd felt before when your cervix was accidentally hit too hard, quite the opposite, the feeling of pressure was so strangely good you found yourself pushing down with all your weight, desperate to feel more. 

Daryl tossed his head back with a grunt at the feeling, taking his bottom lip between his teeth and biting it. His hands took their place on your hips, his fingers digging deep into the soft skin there. 

He'd only switched to this position because his legs were getting unsteady, but the way you looked above him was something he didn't expect to enjoy as much as he did. 

He took a second to catch his breath before he planted his boots firmly on the floor, pressing his back against the couch, and when he was perfectly leveraged he used his hands to keep your waist hovering above him, using the angle to fuck his dick up into you so hard you immediately came again. 

The way you came for the fourth time made his jaw drop. 

He watched you through heavy lidded eyes, taking in every second of it as he breathed through his open mouth. The way your face tensed up in twisted concentration, and then the way it dropped as you fell apart, your mouth falling open with a guttural moan that put every single goddamn porn video he'd seen to shame. Your eyebrows scrunched together, your mouth hung open in such a beautiful ‘O’, he broke. 

He let go of your waist so your full weight would slam down on his cock and he came, his head tilted back against the couch, his dark hair falling away from his face. 

You watched his face the same way he'd watched yours, rolling your hips down against him as you drew out every wave of the strongest orgasm you'd ever had. He looked fucking beautiful. You'd do everything in your power to get him like this again, but this time with your camera. 

His orgasm literally shook him. He clenched the skin over your hips in a tight grip, using it to keep you as tight as possible against him. In those few seconds his mind went blank, almost devolving him into an animal. Those instincts wanted to keep you there on top of him, so he did, rolling his pelvis to fuck his cum deeper into you. 

Daryl held you there until way after he came down from his high, only releasing his grip on your skin when he felt his dick grow soft. 

You couldn't move off him if you tried. Your legs felt like you'd lost all muscle mass, same with your arms. Your body slumped forward and you fell against his chest, your nipples burning as they rubbed against his shirt and vest. 

His arms wrapped around your torso, squeezing your body tight against his, his hips giving a few last weak rolls up against you. 

It took you both a while to catch your breath, the mouth breathing leaving the two of you uncomfortably thirsty. 

He made the first move when he realized you couldn't, and he slid your body off of his into the seat beside him. He sat there for a few more seconds before he carefully put his tender dick back in his pants. 

His belt buckle clinked noisily as he fastened it, his fingers shaky and inaccurate.  He watched as you slowly rose to your feet and grabbed your panties, the rising and falling of his chest gradually slowing. 

The sight of you struggling to climb into your dress had him feeling a smug sense of satisfaction. He chewed on the skin around his thumb, watching you slip your feet into your boots before you leaned against the wall next to the front door. 

You looked at it and faltered, realizing that the two of you had been pretty loud. When you looked back to him with a concerned expression you were just met with an uncaring smirk, the man now on his feet and wiping the sweat from his face with the top of his shirt. He grabbed his crossbow from the floor and flung it over his shoulder before leading you back home.

@ophelialaufey

[madamspellmans-met-tet]

🔮A True Love Of Mine 🔮

Lilia Calderu x fem!reader

tags: SFW, storms, fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, fear of thunder, love confessions, revelations, sleepy cuddles, lilia cuddles, palm reading

wc: ~ 4.1 k

summary: On your way home from town, you get caught in the rain and find shelter at Madame Calderu's Psychic Readings. That night, you learn things about yourself you never would've imagined.

*************************************

The storm hit earlier than expected. You'd gone into town to stock up on ultrasonic cleaning solution and clock oil for your father as you did every other week—the walk wasn't too long and the scenery pretty—only today, the world was ending.

Or so it felt as you pushed forth through the wind lashing in your face and waded through the water that went up to your ankles and had soaked through into your lace-up boots. The raindrops pierced your face like needles, and your coat hung like seaweed from your shoulders, long and heavy, and had ceased to provide any kind of warmth. You made it down the road, cautious of the trees for they might fall, and reached a row of shops.

A nail salon, a shop with pool supplies, and between them, Madame Calderu's Psychic Readings. Since the nail salon was closed and the other shop didn't make the friendliest of impressions, you decided to try and find shelter with the psychic.

Water dripped from the ends of your hair, your nose, and your chin, and you felt like a wet dog. You just hoped you didn't smell like one, too. You approached the glass door, dusty as were the large shop windows, and pushed it open.

A bell chimed above your head, and thick oven warmth embraced you. It was a relief to your shaking, chilled form, and for a moment, you didn't take in anything else but this.

When you opened your eyes again, an array of plants greeted you, which you assumed the owner must've brought in when the storm had reared its ugly face. The interior was colourful, filled to the brim with crystals and knickknacks, with grand drapes on every window, one of which had been decorated with shards of painted glass hung up on a thread. It was so unlike your father's workshop with its dark, antique furniture, the grandfather clocks, the worn carpet—despite your best efforts to bring life into it with some fairy lights and lace tablecloth. This looked homey and inviting.

...unlike the owner, who stepped through the beaded curtain that separated the shop from her private quarters, you assumed, looking nothing short of intimidating.

And there you were, dripping on her Persian rug.

"Um... M-madame C-c-calderu?" you stuttered with chattering teeth.

You expected to get yelled at by the older lady, but the moment she realised you were soaked to the bone, she slipped off her knitted cardigan and rushed to you, muttering, "Oh, honey, oh honey."

She laid it around your shoulders and rubbed your upper arms with her warm, wrinkled hands. "You're drenched, dear." She studied your face with knitted eyebrows. "And your lips are blue, Divine Mother..."

One of her grey curls that framed her face bounced whenever she moved her head. She must be in her seventies, but was still exceptionally beautiful.

"May I—wait out the—s-storm here?" you asked, on the verge of tears from how frozen you were. The tip of your nose, your fingers, your toes—they all ached as if they were about to fall off.

"What a silly question!" She ushered you to sit in a floral-patterned armchair surrounded by countless candles. "I'll get you some dry clothes, girl."

And off she went, through the beaded curtain again, and you sat trying not to freeze to death. The storm raged outside, sent everything that wasn't fixed flying across the road, and bent the trees to breaking. It was early in the evening, but the dense clouds had darkened the sky as if it were almost night.

You set your shopping bag on the ground and rubbed your palms over your thighs to warm them up. Madame Calderu returned a moment later with a folded stack of clothes and towels and set them down on the side table, handing you a towel first and taking one herself.

"Dry up as best as you can and then slip into these. They're from when I was younger," she chuckled, "so might fit you somewhat."

"Thank you so much," you said, and she gave you a warm smile that made your heart squeeze.

It was nothing compared to the leap it made when she began to dry your hair for you while you dragged the towel across your arms and chest. She wrapped the ends of your long, dirty blonde waves up and wrung them out. With her own unruly curls, she must know how to care for hair properly. Her fingers moved to your scalp and massaged it with the towel, and you almost moaned at the feeling.

"Better now, darling?" She stepped back in front of you, and you missed her touch already, but nodded.

"Much."

"Then get changed while I make tea." She took the wet towels with her and turned over her shoulder to say, "Come to the back when you're done."

-> continue

[daintylovers]

imagine moving to beacon hills around season one. right around the same time, allison moves in. it's nice not being the only new girl, so you two quickly become friends.

imagine meeting lydia for the first time. it happens in your fourth class of the day, you two are assigned to be partners for the semester. albeit, at first she isn't thrilled, but once she gives you a chance, everything changes. she's found someone like-minded for once in this small town. someone as intelligent, yet fashionable as her. she thinks for a quick second, if she liked girls, she would love you.

imagine seeing stiles for the first time. seeing- not meeting, because the boy can only gawk at you from across the hall. it's definitely weird and a little unsettling at first, but it's nice to be admired? right?

imagine finally talking to the poor boy for the first time. it had to be you who spoke first, his brain going a mile a minute. it happens a few days later, when lab partners are assigned. stiles almost faints when he hears your names paired together. scott has to be the one to push him out of his seat. it feels kind of how you imagine bella felt when edward and her first meet, awkward and stiff. does he not like you? maybe that's why he was always staring, it wasn't in fantasy, but with disgust. not being one to dwell on whether someone likes you or not, you push through, introducing yourself with a raised out hand. stiles is quick to latch on, spewing out his full government name. then once he catches the confusion on your face, he tells you that you could call him stiles.

imagine going to lydias house party, that very night. running into all your newfound friends, dancing and drinking a little. then seeing your shy new lab partner chasing after his drunk friend. but also allison chasing after the drunk friend. whats his name again? shawn? smith? stiles? no- wait stiles is yours. scott! its scott. but by the time you have that revelation, the three are already outside. so you watch as allison gets into some random car and stiles stands are dumbfounded. scott has seemingly disappeared, and there's an unease building in your chest. who was that guy with allison? stiles, sensing someone behind him, turns around to face the one person he doesn't want to see at the moment. not because he doesn't like you, but because he is pretty sure his best friend is a freaking werewolf.

imagine asking him if he knew who allison got in the car with, and getting an unsavory response. great, your new friend might get murdered and tossed into the woods tonight. the alcohol is catching up to you rather quickly, and the worry is only increasing. stiles starts to make a move to his car, eager to see if scott went back home when you wrap a hand around his upper arm. it's not harsh or anything, so he doesn't flinch, but he is confused. you ask him if he will give you a ride to allisons, because you guys live close together and you want to make sure she gets home safe. stiles immediately says yes, but tells you he has to make a quick stop at scotts. something about possible alcohol poisoning or something, which makes your head spin. oh fuck, what if you have that?

imagine being told to wait in the car as stiles goes into scotts house. the boy is very persistent as you try to help him out. he offers to get you fries from the local drive-through if you just please stay in the car. that gets you to comply, so you're left staring out the window. it doesn't take long for stiles to come running out of the house and speeding down the street. you don't even have to ask because he tells you that allison went home with this guy derek who is very very evil. you never get those fries. but the good news is that allison is alive!

imagine stiles walking you to your door because you and allison really do live right next to each other. you guys don't say much, the adrenaline rush already crashing. you guys are about to part ways when you stop him and ask for his number. he seems like a nice guy and you joke about how you'll harass him until he gets you those fries. his heart does cartwheels as you exchange digits, and makes a mental note to kill scott. in a perfect world, you two would have managed to spend the whole night together, but scotts newfound supernatural abilities are already infiltrating stiles life.

imagine waking up the next morning with a pounding headache and a text from stiles telling you to get dressed cause he is coming over in fifteen minutes. it has you smiling like a child and it feels so goddamn good. maybe this kid will be cooler than you imagined. he pulls into your driveway and you open the door to see him with iced vanilla lattes and Mcdonald's french fries. this guy might just be an angel. you let him in and for the rest of the morning, you guys eat and talk about nothing while lounging around your room.

[kikyoupdates]

☁ yandere ♡ oneshot masterlist

🔮 masterlist ☁

❝ You don't know how or why, but you've been isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. Although your first instinct is to stay away from the plot, you've been blessed with an abnormal amount of cursed energy, and for better or worse, you find yourself sucked into the storyline. You decide that you may as well use your newfound powers for the greater good, and if you're lucky, you might succeed in rewriting some of the characters' fates. But it turns out that your presence in this world is an even bigger deal than you first thought, and soon, everyone wants to make you theirs.❞

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💫 masterlist

❝ You never believed reincarnation was possible, least of all in the fictional world of Jujutsu Kaisen. However, from the moment you meet Gojo Satoru, it’s impossible to deny. Whether it’s a miracle or some kind of curse, you find yourself growing up alongside the strongest jujutsu sorcerer. Unfortunately, you know what the future holds in store. You know exactly what kind of tragedies await. Perhaps that’s why you were brought into this world. If it means saving people from a gruesome fate, you’ll gladly suffer in their place. You’ll do whatever it takes. All for the sake of a better tomorrow. ❞

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🧪 masterlist

❝ You didn’t accomplish anything in your previous life. Looking back on it, you feel nothing but regret, and you yearn for the chance to do things differently. As it turns out, your wish is answered, and you are reborn into your favorite fictional world. This time, you resolve to make a change, and you have the means to do it. You won’t be content with just sitting on the sidelines and letting life pass you by. You will live boldly and vibrantly, as if every moment is your last. No matter what it takes, you are going to leave your mark. ❞

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💎 masterlist

❝ You are the product of a series of twisted experiments, an anomaly that shouldn’t have ever existed in the first place. Thankfully, you are taken into the arms of a hero and given a new purpose in life. But as you soon discover, it isn’t easy to deny your true nature, especially when you were made to destroy. ❞

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💔 masterlist

❝ You awaken one day with virtually no memories. The only thing guiding you is some strange system that likes to dictate your every move, and for some reason, it insists that you make certain people fall in love with you. Desperate for answers, you decide to go along with its demands. After all, how hard can it be? ❞

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❝ Your Quirk is rather unique. It plays out almost like a game, giving you missions and goals that help you become stronger. On top of that, you also have the ability to charm those around you. It sounds innocent enough on paper, and you can’t help but revel in the attention everyone keeps showering you with. But what happens when their feelings give way to something more sinister? ❞

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❝ As punishment for your sins, you, a young vampire, are banished — not just from your home, but to a different world entirely. Now, you find yourself in a foreign place where Quirks and heroes are the norm. In addition to coming to terms with your new life, you must also face your greatest challenge: controlling your massive thirst for blood. ❞

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💘 masterlist

❝ Ever since your Quirk first manifested, you’ve been the apple of everyone’s eye. With the goal of becoming a hero, you enroll to U.A. and soon find yourself drawing the attention of many. Will you form genuine connections with others, or is this all just your power's will? ❞

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🩸 masterlist ☁

❝ Desperate for money to pay off your debts, you sign up for a program that allows you to sell your blood to vampires. At first, everything is fine, and you’re finally able to make ends meet. But they soon begin craving more than just your blood. ❞

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🦋 masterlist ☁

❝ Hoping to try something new and earn a bit of money on the side, you join an app that lets people hire you for your dating services. The idea is pretty straightforward — you pose as the client's girlfriend for a brief period of time, and in turn, you receive payment. But you didn't foresee everyone getting so attached to you, and suddenly, they're no longer satisfied with a fabricated relationship. ❞

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❝ Reincarnation isn't as great as it sounds, especially when you've been reborn as none other than the villainess. Fated to die if you stand in the heroine's way, you immediately resolve to distance yourself from the plot. As long as you have nothing to do with any of the relevant characters, surely, you'll be able to avoid an untimely death. But in a horrible turn of events, the heroine ends up wanting to get close to you. Are you really doomed to meet the villainess' tragic end? Or is there an even more sinister fate that awaits you? ❞

more chapters of this story are available on quotev

💞 masterlist ☁

❝ A desperate cry on your deathbed leads to you being given a fresh start at life. You're overjoyed at having finally obtained a healthy body and a real chance at living normally, only to discover that you've been transported into a yandere game, where danger lurks at every corner. Determined to protect your new life at any cost, you vow to stay as far away from the major characters of the game as possible. But things don't always go as planned. ❞

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🥀 masterlist ☁

❝ Following your mother’s recent passing, you are visited by a group of men claiming that your father abandoned all his debt and obligations, leaving you to take his place.❞

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👑 masterlist ☁

❝ Your parents are thrilled to have secured an engagement for you with the royal family. Your suitor, the crown prince, has agreed to be wed to you. It seems as though your entire future has been assured, so why is it that from this moment onward, your life starts to fall apart at the seams? ❞

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[revelboo]

Revel i love u, (platonically) its such a treat to see a notification from you and im scrambling to read it.

no need to write or anything, but what do you think about Pharma?

Thank you! I’ve been meaning to tackle him anyway since I’ve gotten 3 or 4 requests for him, but wasn’t entirely sure how to write him. He does horrible things, but he does them to survive, so he’s a bit complicated. And unstable.

Pulp Fiction

Pharma x Reader

• Guilt a living thing in his spark, it’s almost become a routine now. A deft incision and a few little snips to paralyze the motor functions of his patient. Part of him is relieved that it gets a bit easier every time, while the rest of him dies a little more. They’re going to offline anyway, he knows it. There’s nothing he can do to save them, he didn’t kill them. None of this is his fault. Only taking their T-cog, since they don’t need it anymore and he does. Paralyzed, their optics still stare up at him. Accusing him until he wants to drive the end of the scalpel into those awful optics again and again so they can’t stare at him like that. Shoving away from the berth before he gives in to the impulse, he feels energon running down his servos, down under his plating as he carries the T-cog to the hidden bin and adds it to the rest. Turning away, he almost misses the furtive little sound.

• Sneaker squeaking on the floor, you hold your breath as the giant turns and looks around. Praying it won’t see you. That you’re so small, you won’t be noticed as you fight another wave of nausea. You don’t know where you are or how you got there, but you feel awful and your head is pounding. If you retch, it’ll definitely find you. But it doesn’t matter as those blue optics spot you and widen. Upper lip curling as it snarls something unintelligible at you and lunges. Screaming, you take off.

• What is that? Some kind of horrible, little organic that screeches at him and runs away when he grabs for it. And it’s surprisingly fast as he gives chase, spark thrumming. Snatching up an empty energon cube from a gurney, his peds slide as he overtakes the thing and it falls trying to change directions. Yelping when he slides the cube toward it and it jumps inside to avoid being crushed against the wall. Tipping the cube flat, it cries out as it slides to the bottom before shoving back into a corner away from him. “Little pest,” he mutters, picking up the cube and studying the thing, noticing the coverings. A domesticated pet, maybe? One of his late patient’s? It takes him a moment to realize the noise it’s making isn’t random. It’s talking, or at least trying to. He can’t understand a word of it’s nonsense. “You’re almost cute for a filthy organic.” Big eyes stare up at him as he vents, wondering if he should just toss it in the incinerator.

• Cringing against the side of the clear box when the giant reaches in and touches the top of your head, it takes a minute to realize it’s petting you like a lost kitten. As scary as the thing is, it occurs to you that being on its good side probably significantly increases your life expectancy until you can escape and figure out what’s going on. So you awkwardly reach up and pet his giant servo. “Hi.”

• That tiny hand is surprisingly warm as it touches him, the little thing tipping its head back to smile at him, expression uncannily like a Cybertronian’s. What is this thing? Venting tiredly, he carries it to his office and sets it on his desk and wipes the energon from his servos. “It’s not like I enjoy helping that psychopath. I don’t have a choice,” he mutters to himself. “If I don’t do it, I die and he finds someone else to do it.” You make a noise and he glances over to find you staring at him, a hand pressed to the inside of the cube. Babbling your nonsense as he huffs out a laugh. “Right?” It not like he has anyone else to pour the poison out to, no one who wouldn’t turn him in anyway. And he needs to say it or he’ll go mad. “You understand, don’t you?”

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