#like??? I couldn’t believe everyone was just rolling with that and assuming it’s normal to hide yourself and work extra hard to compensate

[natugood]

It’s really weird and kind of sad realizing that you are growing differently than how someone you’ve known for a long time is growing

[futbolfatale]

Our Omega PT2

Pairing: Select Lionesses x reader

Tags: Omegaverse, Harassment, stereotypical alpha-omega dynamics, nesting, cuddling, doom scrolling, low-key cyberbullying.

Summary: You have been mated for a couple of weeks and get harassed at a game. This will be the last part for this combo but I am considering doing one for Arsenal or Chelsea. P.S. This is definitely not my best work.

Wordcount: 2K

Sitting on the sidelines of a game has become one of your favorite activities other than training. Seeing your girls doing what they are best was unlike anything else. That is how you are back at Wembley watching your girls play against Ireland. You can feel the excited nervous energy the girls are feeling through your bond. Alessia already scored a goal and you're barely into the first half.

A flash of a camera catches your attention and you turn around only to find yourself inches away from a stranger's phone. “ Hi,” You can’t help the annoyed tone that seeps into your voice. People have become fascinated with you since you went public with your relationship. Not that you could blame them, it still feels unreal but the permanent bite marks make it difficult to go unnoticed. “Hi oh my god, I can’t believe you're here. “ The girl looks like she couldn’t be more than sixteen years old. “Where else would I be?” You roll your eyes, turning back to the game. You can feel her eyes on you but don't turn around. You don’t have the mental energy to be nice to her so it is easier to just avoid communicating as much as possible. People like this just get on your nerves. We are all just people. 

After Georgia scored you could tell they had the game in the bag. Not that they become less aggressive in their play style but you could feel the stressed tension in your bond loosening. you tense as someone steps on your shoulder taking a deep breath and turning around you are faced with the same teen and what you assume to be her friends. “ Do you think we could get a picture?” She asks so excitedly you don't have the heart to say no. “Sure,” They crowd around you and one of them pulls out their phone to take a selfie.” if you wouldn’t mind I would like to get back to the game.” You turn back to the pitch barely listening as the girls return to their seats. The scents of the people around you grow heavier as the game continues. Some Alpha’s really need to get their scents under control. It's so overpowering you can barely think.

Once the game is over you head out towards the tunnel to meet up with the girls. Normally they would just come and grab you from the barrier but with this being an official Euro qualifier everyone is trying to follow the rules to a T. The stadium is crowded with people's scents covering every inch of space. A familiar overselling scent fills the air around you .”Hello,” You turn around only inches away from Amber. “Hi” You smile through your annoyance and try to back away from her only to have her follow your steps backing you into the corner. “Where are you mates? not very nice of them to leave their omega all alone.” Amber's smile has a predatory look and you can’t help the fear scent escaping your body. “They didn’t leave me there. I am waiting for them to finish post-match interviews. You try to duck away from her only for her arm to cage you in. “you should probably get away from me if they find you this close it won’t be pretty.” You shrink away as her scent becomes impossible and more aggressive. “There isn’t much they can do to me here” This girl could not learn when someone was not interested. You are mated now she can’t just be out here with you.

”Get away from her '' Lucy's voice startles you out of your fear-induced faze. you slide to the floor as Luce shoves Amber away from you.``you took her from me” Amber shouts as Luce keeps pushing her farther away from you. “Shh. you are okay I’m right here '' Mills scoops you up holding you tight to her chest. Her purr lulls you into a safe headspace. “Let’s get you home.''The rest of the girls join up with you as Mills gets you buckled into the backseat of the car.``Where is Luce '' you question as Millie gets into the driver seat. “She will meet us at the house.” you startle as the car door opens and Less and Ella slide in on either side of you. “Is Lucy okay?”. “She is perfectly fine. I can't say that much about the other girl,” Ella explains with a smirk clear on her face. “She didn't kill her, did she? '' Killing a girl would definitely get her suspended if not worse.``No Mary and Leah pulled her off before it got that serious.'' Alessia explains. “That's good, I don't want her to get in trouble because of me.” 

“It's not your fault That stupid girl, what was her name?” Millie prompted from the front seat.”Amber” ‘Amber should never have gotten that close to you. That is never appropriate, especially with a mated omega. She deserves everything Lucy gave her.” Millie turns into the driveway and you can’t seem to get out of the car fast enough. You just want to go back to your house, your nest. Everything is too much. “Shh love come on let's get you up the stairs. ”Less and Ella are practically running after you as you hurry up the stairs and into the bedroom. Your nest is just the way you left it this morning and that is some comfort as you collapse into it. “How about we turn on a show and wait for the rest of the girls to get home” Less prompts snuggling up next to you. As much as you don't want to do anything, some TV did sound distracting. “What are you going to turn on?”. “Whatever you want my love”. “Derry girls,” you ask with a smile slowly appearing on your face. “Of course” As Alessia is turning on the TV Ella slips in behind you. “Sorry, I have to get my switch to play FIFA.” Ella presses a kiss to your back before returning to her game. Ella and her game you can barely pull it away from her when she has free time. You let yourself relax as the opening of Derry Girls starts.

You don’t even realize how much time has passed until Millie comes in dressed in her pjs with 4 pizza’s. “I was thinking of dinner in bed then some dessert.” Millie sets the pizza’s down on the floor next to the bed and crawls in. Over the past couple of hours the rest of your mates have joined you in your tv binge. “What did you get for dessert?” You question as Mills opens up the boxes. “Brownies and ice cream” She hands you a slice on a paper towel and you gladly begin eating. You forgot about eating in your panic to feel safe again. “Where is Luce” You can’t help missing her, everyone else is home safe and having her out god knows where doesn’t help your inner omega stay calm. “She had to do some cleanup but should be home soon.” Leah pipes up from where she's been scrolling on her phone. “ Do you want me to call her?" Leah asks, finishing her slice of pizza.” Do you mind?” You hate to be a bother no one wants to have a clingy mate. “None of us mind doing things for you, we just want you to be happy.” She dials the number and hands you the phone.

“Hey Leah what's up” Lucy sounds stained as if he is trying to multitask. “It's me, I was worried about you.” you bite your fist as she takes a deep breath. “There is no need to be worried, baby. I had to deal with some things Amber is getting banned from any of our future games. I also had to do an explanation video in case she goes public.” Luce sounds so sweet and you can’t help the tears that escape our eyes. There is no reason to cry, everything is fine, and no one dies. “Baby, you're alright I am going to come home now okay? I will be fifteen minutes tops.” “I'll see you soon then” You choke the words out a few more stray tears rolling down your face. “Come here luv” Georgia pulls you into her arms from behind and you fall into her more tears scraping your eyes. “I don’t even know Why I am crying” You whine letting out the keening cry that omega’s use to let their pack know they are hurting. “You can cry for no reason, you can cry whenever you want. You went through a lot today. You deserve to feel whatever emotions you want.” Georgia explains her hands rubbing circles into your skin are soon joined by the rest of your pack all in an effort to keep you from crying yourself sick.

“Oh baby” Lucy crawls into the nest taking your face into her hands. “It's going to be okay. We are all safe no one is ever going to touch you like that again.'' Lucy pulls your hand to rest over her heart. “We can go to sleep and deal with this tomorrow. You will feel better after a full night's rest. You barely notice as Lucy pulls you to rest in her lap. She starts a slow purr meant for calming omegas. It's annoying how easily she is able to calm you down. “It's not fair we tried that earlier,” Leah complains, her voice barely above a whisper. “I guess you're just not as skilled as I am, '' Luce teases as you slowly begin to drift off to sleep.

When you wake up Lucy is still holding you but she's shifted to be spooning you so your arms are free. There is no way to escape Luce’s death grip so you just start scrolling through Instagram on whoever phone is closest to you. The first thing on your feed is a video of Luce explaining last night which you quickly scroll past. It's more of your usual baking and football commentary until you reach a post about last night. The poster claims to be friends with Amber, which is hard to believe since she is sure an asshole. They are trying to say that you came on to Amber and then acted like she came on to you when your alpha showed up. This is so untrue if any of the witnesses came forward they would all say that Amber came on to you but the comments are full of people agreeing about how much of a slut you are.

So here you are an hour later still scrolling through X trying to find anyone who agrees with you. It's more of the same users all agreeing with Amber. You are so engrossed in your scrolling that you don’t notice Rachel until she sets her hand on your shoulder. “Are you okay?" She is still in her Pj's, a mug full of coffee in her free hand. “Ya, why wouldn’t I be.”You turn the phone on and set it face down next to you.. At some point Luce let her arms loosen to the point where you could at least it up. “I just wanted to make sure with what everyone is saying you know it isn't true.” You nod, taking the mug from her hands and quickly taking a large gulp before handing it back to her.  “I know how cruel people can be especially when they don’t know the full story” Rach was this way about her that sets you at ease while also making you feel more heard and understood than you have in your whole life. “I just don’t know how to make them understand.”. “Some never will these things are hard to understand unless you've earned it. What we can do is show people the camera footage of her following you and ignoring your wishes. It's not the best option and it shouldn’t be the only way people will believe you but it would help take some of the hate off of you.” Rachel explains remorse clearly on her face. “I don’t care what they are saying as much as I care that they are trying to convince you that I am those things.”. “No one can convince us of anything about you other than yourself. These people know nothing about what you are really like for us for this pack, nothing anyone says will ever change that.”

[eringobragh420]

🖤 Pairing: Gunther x f!Reader 🖤 Summary: Gunther and his longtime friend finally make their fantasies a reality. 🛑 Warnings: NSFW. Wall sex, semi-public, dirty talk, fingering, super minor blood, cum 18+ 🖤 Notes: Dedicated to the Gunther lovers, especially the ones who go into this not liking him and come out wondering wtf they were thinking 🤷‍♀️ 🖤 Taglist: If you’d like to be added, please click here! 🖤 Requested By: @eboni-napalm Thank you so much for your patience and your awesome idea! Happy Birthday! 🖤 MASTERLIST

She watched on one of many TVs backstage as Damian Priest defended his title against Gunther. Some days she couldn’t believe she and Gunther were in WWE at all, on the main roster no less, but then she saw him in the ring, and she saw exactly what everybody else saw: a superstar. Of course, she’d known how special he was for years beforehand, having come up with him in NXT UK, so it was really no surprise to see him in a match competing for the World Heavyweight Championship. And her idolization had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she may or may not have had a crush on the man since the very first moment she’d laid eyes on him. It didn’t. Really.

The two gigantic men in the ring, each going pound for pound, exchanged chops, and she couldn’t avoid even the tiniest reaction every time Gunther was on the receiving end. These men, at least some of them, had to be masochists. She was a wrestler, yes, and there was hardly ever a contest that was pain-free, but she never went into it wanting to be hurt. When these men were chopped or suplexed or Pedigree’d, she swore she saw their eyes dazzle, some of them even smiled or laughed. And was she really thinking about whether or not Gunther was a fan of pain while standing amongst dozens of other people watching the same match?

She gasped along with everyone else when Priest rolled Gunther onto his back—I could just ride him right there … I bet he’d forget about losing—and laid over him for the pin. A collective hush fell over the group, however, upon witnessing Finn Bálor’s betrayal, which consequently kept Gunther in the match. Her body was absolutely thrumming during the next sequence, watching with rounded eyes as Priest tried twice to get at Finn before Gunther locked in the chokehold. She was the loudest one cheering when the Ring General was declared the winner, and the new World Heavyweight Champion. Smirking, she shook her head as Gunther snatched the golden title from the ref and held it in the air, and she could tell he was emotional, but he did well hiding it, playing the perfect heel to the perfect end to a kind of perfect night—at least for her, she hadn’t much interest in the Cody versus Solo match. 

She started to say goodbye to those around her, hugging a few, intricate handshakes with others, well wishes to everyone. She gathered her purse and suitcase-on-wheels, turned, and made it only a few steps before pausing. Gunther was exiting Gorilla position, blue Ring General jacket on—he really needs to wear the blue more often—gilded title adorning his waist, and he was headed right for her. How the hell long had it taken her to say goodbye? She looked behind her to see who he might actually be targeting, but everyone had dispersed. When she turned back around, Gunther was only a few feet from her, his eyes rising and falling over her thin tank top, pleated skirt, and Nike sneakers, and her brain was inundated with every memory she had of the Austrian, like she was dying and her entire life was flashing before her eyes. The crush she may or may not have had blossomed within her, growing somehow from the deep, dark, secret place she’d buried it long ago. Entombing these inappropriate and, she assumed, unrequited, feelings for a coworker had allowed her to function like a normal human, and not a lovesick schoolgirl.

“What do you think?” he asked, or shouted, slapping the title against his abs, and she almost, almost, averted her gaze to look, but she caught herself at the very last second. She focused on the blood spatter on his cheek and jaw.

Blood?

There was a sizzling in the ether, a hum almost, like the sound of current zooming through a power line, and she felt it in her very core. She could smell him now, the closer he came, and his scent had to be pheromonal, because her panties were suddenly soaked and her legs felt heavy. Her arms and hands were numb, so it was quite confusing for her to watch her arm rise of its own volition, hand reaching for Gunther, and she screamed for him to move or slap her hand away, but no sound came out and her lips never moved. Her hand kept lifting until it came in contact with a spot of blood on his chiseled jawline, and now she had sensation in her fingertips, but still no control.

“Are you okay?” she asked, absolutely no recollection of planning to say anything at all.

“You’re worried about me,” he said loudly, grinning, boasting his sexy accent. Those goddamn dimples sank into his cheeks, and his smile, even when he was being evil on the microphone, was genuine and happy, and wait just a damn minute …

Her lips pursed. “Congratulations,” she deadpanned, finally in control of her hand, which she pulled from his face. She glanced at the vermillion liquid on her thumb before idly smearing it on her light-colored tank top, treating it like any other unwanted substance. She looked back up at him, his usually bright, sparkling eyes now a blazing inferno and zeroed in on the stain on her shirt just below her breasts. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

She spun on her heels, twirled her suitcase on its wheels, and she started off in the opposite direction. He might have been just teasing, and that was the most likely scenario, but that didn’t make her feel any less embarrassed. She’d shown genuine concern for him, and he’d cracked a joke about her being worried? It didn’t matter that he was correct—he didn’t have to be a dick about it. 

Unfortunately for her, she had no idea where the exit was in this direction, and she couldn’t very well ask someone while on her angry walk-away, so she stuck her chin in the air and continued on, confidently taking a turn down the next hallway. Her pace slowed then. This concourse was dark save for the light from the corridor that T’d at the end. And she didn’t see an exit sign. 

“Shit,” she whispered. 

A barely audible thud sounded behind her, and she spun around, releasing the handle of her suitcase, instantly hoping for an employee or maybe someone who was also lost. He was mostly a silhouette, but she knew exactly who it was—she was familiar with his size and the haircut and even his squared shoulders under the Ring General jacket—but for a new reason. His scent. It was the sour aroma of sweat, the copper tinge of blood, and tiny remnants of whatever body wash he’d used recently. She inhaled as much as she could, inflating her lungs until they nearly burst, packing them full of her new favorite flavor, and she felt a little dizzy. The man was a goddamn vape pen.

She attempted to recover, “I think I made a wrong—” 

Gunther wrapped a long, strong arm around her middle and lifted her in the air with maybe a little too much vigor—she saw the top of his head for the first time in real life before gravity snatched her and yanked her back to earth. Gunther’s arm tightened around her, halting her progress, crushing their chests together, and she intuitively wrapped her legs around his waist. She felt the outline of the World Heavyweight Championship title belt between her legs and underneath the surprisingly soft fabric of the blue jacket. She clutched at the lapels to steady herself upon landing back in his arm—because it had been so fucking easy for him to nearly launch her into space and catch her with only one damn arm.

Their eyes met, and their noses were brushing, and they were passing oxygen back and forth between them. She’d never been this close to him before, not like this, and his scent was much stronger now. Fuck, she’d waited so long for this, but here? Now? His body was firm, muscles dense, and for some reason, this Austrian Adonis was wholly enchanted by her. So yes—here. Now.

“Gunther—” she whispered, having no idea where this sentence would end up.

“You didn’t answer me,” he cut her off. She blinked at him. “I asked you what you think.” Sometimes his THs came out as Fs and it was the most endearing quirk in the world. He nodded at the title, nestled in the comforting embrace of his jacket and her thighs, and they both cast their eyes downward. She swallowed, looking at her skirt, remembered she was wearing a skirt, and also the opulent title that was only a few inches from an aching, soaking pussy.

“I’m happy for you,” she whispered, hands still fisted in his jacket.

“No,” he growled, kicking her suitcase out of his way with a blue boot. Her grip tightened and her thighs clenched as he pressed her against the nearest wall, his free hand cupping the back of her head as a shield. “I’m only gonna ask you … one more time,” he said, his eyes burning a hole through her very soul, and his hand came out from behind her to hold his finger up. “You think I don’t see the way you look at me?” he tilted his head. She gulped down absolutely nothing, and the hallway was so quiet that the action was actually audible. “So no lying,” he advised, eyebrows lifting. His face closed the space between them, and she couldn’t regulate her breathing as it came out in hot puffs of desperation. “What … do you think?”

Boy, was she done thinking. “Well …” she trailed off, fingers releasing the lapels of his jacket so she could flatten her palms on his chest. She licked her lips, massaging the hard planes of his pecs, and she pulled her bottom lip into her mouth. His eyes darted down to watch. “I think you look like a fucking champion,” she murmured. If he wanted to play a game … let’s play a game. Her thighs tightened as she locked her ankles behind him, spine straightening. Her hand slithered up his neck to his incredible jaw where she gently clutched his chin between her forefinger and thumb so she could turn his face slightly away from her, freeing the route to his ear. Smirking, she pressed her lips to his lobe, and his arm still around her middle tensed. “And I think you look like a champion I’d like to fuck,” she purred, puncuating her statement by biting the lobe and sucking it into her searing mouth.

Gunther leaned back, stealing his ear from her, and he then pressed their foreheads together. “Yeah?” he taunted. She nodded, their noses grazing. “You wanna fuck the champion?”

“For so long,” she sighed, practically clawing at the jacket. She glanced down, their faces mashed together, a memory slapping her in the brain. She opened the garment and raked her nails down his bare chest, over the marks of Damian’s chops, and it wasn’t the hardest she could go, but his groan was primal, and she knew the pressure was just right. “You should know,” she went on, “if you’ve been watching me like you say you have.”

“Oh, I’ve been watching,” Gunther assured her. His hands were under her arms and he pressed her into the wall, locking eyes with her before he released his grip on her. She kept her shoulder blades and arms flat against the wall, back straight, legs nice and tight around Gunther’s waist, and she was perfectly stable without his assistance. He leaned back, and this new position presented him with the chance to leer at her, gaze inspecting every inch of her, and he leisurely began to lift her shirt. His brows rose and his mouth opened when he came to a barely-there built-in bra. “Look at you,” he said. “You don’t even bother, do you?” 

She regarded him with a wicked smirk, half his face a shadow, and she couldn’t fight the urge to roll her hips against him. The title didn’t feel particularly good when pressed to her pussy, but the thought of humping it, covering it with her juices, was something she never thought would turn her on. “Maybe I hoped you would be looking,” she whispered. He slid the bra, which was basically just thin fabric and elastic, torturously slowly up over her breasts where it stayed, and his eyes met hers once more.

“This is what you want?” he asked, though it sounded more like a statement. She nodded, lost in his murky eyes. “Say it,” he commanded, and there was no mistaking that tone.

She gripped his shoulders and pulled herself against him, her newly exposed nipples making contact with his jacket and his smooth chest. “I want you to fuck me, Gunther,” she told him, lips massaging his thin ones. Her eyes passed back and forth between his, and she knew he needed something else, just a little bit more. “Think you can handle that?”

He smashed her between himself and the wall, his lips finally covering hers, and the desperate moans from both their throats would have been embarrassing for them had anyone else heard them. Her hand on the back of his shaved head was an interesting level of eroticism, and he must have agreed, if his tongue in her mouth was any indication. She felt him unstrap the belt, and he returned one arm around her so he could lift her off the front of it, then he dropped it to the floor. Never once did his lips leave hers or even stop moving.

He repositioned her lower on his body this time, throwing his jacket around her legs, and she gasped, grip sliding from his shoulders back to the lapels as he ground his impressive manhood on her soaking panties. His hand slithered along her thigh, finger dipping under the side of the garment, which he then lifted away from her throbbing pussy. Her eyes were slits as his thumb slid along her dripping folds, relentlessly teasing her before it finally sank within and began massaging the slippery nub. His straining cock was still pressed against her, and if he didn’t fuck her now, she knew for sure they’d be caught. People were still passing by the end of the hallway they’d come from. Had anyone seen them enter? Had anyone seen them not leave?

“Please,” she whispered, not sure how long she would survive without his cock inside her.

“That’s what I wanna hear,” he mumbled, sucking one of her nipples into his mouth. Her back arched and she slammed her hips into his thumb. “You wanna fuck the champion, you have to beg the champion.”

“Please,” she repeated, and somewhere along the way she’d lost the upper hand. Or … had she ever really had it?

“Please what?” he pressed. “Hmm?” He was on her neck now, all teeth and tongue and lips, and her eyes rolled back. 

“Please fuck me,” she begged, hand cradling his neck. “Please?”

“Fuck,” Gunther whispered. 

There was brief movement, and suddenly, the thick head of his dick poked at her hole, and she cried out. Gunther was quick to cover her mouth with his hand, holding it there as his other hand gripped her hip, supporting her weight and sinking her down onto his cock. She continued to squeal, muffled by his hand, until he was buried to the hilt inside her, and then she was breathing in and out quickly through her nostrils. She rolled her hips, sucking him deeper, and she groaned this time. As he started to slowly fuck her, she reached up to squeeze his meaty forearm, opposite hand fisting in his jacket again. He picked up speed, rocking her body up and down on the wall, and she couldn’t believe any of this was happening. Was she dreaming? That’d be cruel.

“You’re taking me so well,” Gunther praised, and she whined, squirming in his embrace. “This pussy was made for my cock, wasn’t it?” 

She nodded, a stifled yes caged in her throat. She wouldn't argue the point even if she could. Her pussy was full, fuller than it ever had been, wetter, and she felt her orgasm building, but that couldn’t be right because no man had ever made her cum simply by penetration alone. Her entire being was vibrating with the quickness of Gunther’s pumps, still grasping his forearm and jacket, holding on for dear life and that ever elusive orgasm-that-she-wasn’t-responsible-for.

“You’re perfect,” he mumbled into her ear. She almost wilted in his possession, but if her body slacked even a little bit, Gunther’s cock would never again find that spot inside her. 

“Please,” she begged. “Please … I’m gonna cum.”

“All over my cock, dirty girl,” he panted. Had someone else called her a dirty girl, she might have laughed at them, but with Gunther’s accent and his tone and just the fucking breathlessness loaded her orgasm from 28% to 99%. “So your pussy will get even tighter,” he went on, “so you can make the champion cum.”

She screamed, a literal scream, and Gunther squeezed her mouth. She did exactly as she was told, clenching around his dick as she came for the first time by a dick, body shuddering while she rode the waves of ecstasy. She was able to experience most of it before Gunther grunted, pulling out with a nasty pop, and he set her carefully back on her feet.

“Down on your knees, dirty girl,” he said, his hand lifting from her mouth. 

She licked her lips, tasting him, and she slowly descended to her knees, which she had to spread to avoid putting any weight on the belt Gunther had discarded earlier, hands sliding down his chest and abs as she went. He jerked his glistening cock over her face, leering at her, and she grasped his thighs. Every instinct told her to stick her tongue out, and what kind of human would she be if she didn’t follow her instincts? He placed his hand on the top of her head seconds before he launched cum on her tongue and across her face, rope after rope, and it was salty and warm and her new new favorite flavor. She couldn’t read the expression on his face anymore as he used his thumb to slide all the cum from her skin into her mouth. She happily accepted all of it, sucking his thumb and cock clean for good measure. When he finished, he tucked himself back into his trunks and held his hand out. She almost placed her hand in it. Almost. At the last second, she reached between her knees for the belt and held it up for him. His chest puffed out as he accepted it from her, and she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding when he held his other hand out for her.

“We should do that again,” Gunther said.

She grinned, her cheeks getting hot, and she pulled her top back down. “Call me when you win another championship,” she winked.

[honeybeefae]

For ACOTAR bingo, can I request a nsfw mating ceremony with Cassian? I love the idea of an Illyrian mating ceremony 🔥

Tradition (Cassian x Reader)

BINGO: Mating Ceremony

(AHHHHHH this was so much fun to write! Also, I came up with these vows all on my own and I’m kind of obsessed with it. I know Illyrians are famous for treating their women less than kind but consider this an adapted version where it’s more tender. I hope you guys enjoy it!!)

WARNINGS: Smut

“Under the moon of the Mother, I take you under my wing and into my soul.

I promise to protect and provide for you, to care for you, and to worship you every 

Morning, noon, and night. You are the wind beneath my wings, the stars that guide 

Me, and the spirit that was destined to follow mine to the ends of time. I swear this 

By the Cauldron, the Gods, and the Mother above, from this day until we 

Become anew. This I promise to you.”

The entire crowd erupted into applause as Cassian pulled you into a kiss, dipping you dramatically as you grinned into the kiss and threw your arms around his neck. You felt like you were on cloud nine and you knew your mate did as well, especially as he picked you up and spun you around. 

Rhys, who was officiating the mating ceremony, clapped both of you on the shoulders with a warm smile. The two of you turned toward your friends, your mouths holding the brightest smiles they had ever seen, before walking down the aisle that was covered in petals of roses.

You were quickly swept away into the grand reception, which you were all too happy to plan and decorate. It was a little fancier than Cassian was used to but the way you looked in your dress and how happiness just radiated off of you, he didn’t mind at all. 

Traditional Illyrian dishes as well as more modern fae meals were served to everyone, wine and other cocktails flowing freely as the two of you drank and danced the night away. As the night went on you couldn’t stop his wandering hands from getting lower, your giggles of anticipation only spurring him on. 

It wasn’t until the wee hours of the morning that you finally called it a night. Feyre, Rhys, Nesta, Elain, Az, Amren, and Mor were the only ones left as they wished you a pleasant honeymoon. You clung onto your mate as he walked with you into the open field just past the party, both of you smelling of wine and excitement.

“Shall we, my mate?” You cooed, smirking when hoisted you into his arms. He gave you another long, passionate kiss before taking off into the night sky. 

You squealed at the takeoff, the ground below you spinning before you closed your eyes and relished in the wind flowing over your body. Cassian watched you, absolutely entranced with your beauty, and felt his heart skip a beat. He couldn’t believe you were his. 

He swooped down as he found the small cabin made for just the two of you. It was a mating gift from Feyre and Rhys, somewhere far away from the river house which you assumed meant they knew what the two of you were going to be getting up to. 

The only sound that could be heard as you landed were crickets and your laughter as he carried you through the front door and straight to the bedroom, dropping you in the middle of the bed. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” Cassian flirted, watching as you rolled your eyes playfully.

“I think this might be the tenth time but I certainly won’t complain if you tell me once more.” You smile, gazing up at him through your lashes.

“I couldn’t take my eyes off you all night, not that I normally can anyway.” He murmured, caressing your cheek with the back of his hand. “You are breathtaking…and all mine.”

Your heart fluttered at the low tone of his voice as you stood up to kiss him, enjoying the way his arms wrapped around your waist to pull you impossibly closer. The urgency grew the longer the kiss went, his hands groping your ass and needily tugging at the strings of your corset.

“I’m going to rip this damned thing off of you.” He growled into your ear, kissing your neck as you playfully hit his arm.

“Nuh-uh, this is a special dress, Cass. Give me two seconds.” You hummed, running your thumb over his pouted lips before slipping out of his arms and into the bathroom. 

It was the first time you felt like you could breathe since this morning as you took a moment to rest against the door. Collecting your thoughts, you began to hurriedly undo the ties of your dress. You and Cassian had had sex before but this time would be different, this time you were mates. 

It felt like you were going to lose your virginity all over again.

You rushed to prepare yourself, adjusting the lingerie that you hid underneath your dress. There were some supplies sitting on the bathroom counter that you used to freshen up as well. It took you all of five minutes but you knew how impatient your mate could get so when you finally emerged from the bathroom, he was already waiting with his hand raised to knock.

Shyness blossomed inside as he devoured you with his eyes, looking down at the floor and taking a deep breath. You felt two fingers come underneath your chin before your head was lifted to meet his gaze, his lips inches from yours.

“Why are you so shy?” He purred, voice dripping with sex. “Let me see you.”

After taking a small breath you took a step back, letting him see all of you. His pants were straining from how hard he already was as his nostrils flared and eyes darkened, licking his lips as he started walking towards you.

Despite yourself and your desire for him, you started staggering backward, your heart skipping as your knees hit the back of the bed. Cassian gave you a feral grin and pushed you backward gently, his body following yours as you fell onto the soft mattress. 

“Gods,” His breath ghosted over your lips while his hand trailed up your leg, catching on the garter on your upper thigh. “What did I do to deserve you?” 

“I think I’m the one who got lucky.” You whisper, cupping his face and pulling him down to connect your lips. His scruff scratched against your skin in a tantalizing way, sending a pleasant hum that went all the way to your core as his fingers got closer and closer to where you needed him most.

The scent of your arousal was already thick in the air by the time he caressed the lace of your panties, watching every expression you made as he dipped a finger in shallowly to test you out. It made you gasp, your hips moving to try to get him to push in deeper. 

“I’m going to try my very best to be gentle with you,” Cassian said while pulling your underwear down and letting it fall to the floor. “But I make no promises.”

He thrust two fingers into you slowly, making sure to flex them inside to stretch you out for his cock as you felt your entire body heating up. You bit down on your lip and groaned, breath hitching when her curled his fingers in search of that sensitive spot inside. 

“Cassian-” You gasped, the rest of the sentence dying on your lips when he finally found it. His lips latched onto your neck as he sped up his fingers, making sure to hit that spot every single time until you were already on the edge of coming undone. 

It was becoming too much, too fast, and you wanted him to slow down so that this moment wouldn’t be over so soon. However, your mate had other ideas. He could see you trying to squirm away so he placed a heavy arm on your stomach, pinning you still.

“Now, now, princess. Don’t try to get away from me.” He growled into your ear, looking down to watch his hand fuck you before back up to your face. “I want to feel you cumming all over my fingers. I want to feel that delicious pussy clench around me, feel you drench my hand and the sheets. Do you understand?”

You nodded, your toes already starting to curl as he held you down. You had no choice but to feel everything. He clicked his tongue and bit down on your ear, tugging it with his teeth. 

“I want a yes sir, princess.”

“Y-yes sir,” You whimpered, your back arching as he smirked and started using his thumb to rub small circles on your clit. It pushed you into heaven as you tightened around his fingers, your mouth hanging open in a silent cry as pleasure washed over you over and over again. 

“That’s it, baby. Good girl.” Cassian praised into your skin as he fucked you through the orgasm, moving his arm off your stomach so he could yank down the lingerie and free your breasts. He started lavishing them with his tongue, taking each nipple into his mouth to suck and bite. 

All of the attention was sending you into overstimulation and you were grateful when he removed his fingers, your eyes hazy as you watched him suck all your juices off. 

Cassian kissed you once more, quick and hungry, before raising back up to undo the ties of his pants. You could see how hard his cock was and weren’t surprised by the wet spot that had formed on his boxers, your mouth watering as he unveiled himself. 

“I love when you look at me like that.” He smirked, stroking himself a few times before climbing back over you. “I want to fuck you like this so I can see your face when I make you cum all over my cock. Do you think you can be a good girl and do that for me?”

“Yes sir.” You smile, your body still tingling from your last orgasm as he rubbed himself up and down your soaking cunt. Cassian pushed in inch by inch until he was bottomed out inside you, a full body shiver running through him from how good you felt.

His hands grabbed yours and put them above your head as he rocked into you, his wings stretched out as you arched into his thrusts. Your already lust-filled head was going into overdrive from the gentle way he was fucking you, too much and yet not enough at the same time.

There was a small spark lighting up in your chest as you stared into his eyes, both of you sharing the same breath, and when you pulled him close to whisper your dark desire that spark turned into flames.

“Please, Cassian, please just take me. Fuck me. Don’t hold back.”

Something shifted in his face as he watched you, waiting to see if you were going to change your mind, before you were suddenly lifted into the air with his hands grabbing your ass as leverage. He shoved you against the wall, the coolness a nice contrast to how hot your body was. 

“You want me to use you like this? Fuck you like a barbaric Illyrian?” He snarled, biting down on your shoulder as you cried out for him. 

“Yes, Cass, yes!” You whined, that thread in your soul slowly unwinding as both of you neared your climax. Cassian could feel it, his desperation growing each second as his wings cocooned the two of you into your own little world. 

Your nails dug into his muscled arms as you pressed your forehead against his, your chest heaving as white, hot light seemed to explode from every nook and crevice of your soul. This was unlike any orgasm you had ever felt. It felt like you were the only two alive, the only two that mattered, and for the first time you felt everything that Cassian was. 

Love. Lust. Wonder. Comfort. Mate. Mate. Mate.

He nuzzled into your neck, right where your pulse was fluttering, and inhaled deeply. It was a primal reaction to the bond and before you could blink he bit down again, a carnal urge to mark you in every way possible. 

“You’re all mine. All. Fucking. Mine.” He followed his words with sharp thrusts, his balls tightening up with the need to release. You nodded, craning your neck as he continued to bite and suck every inch of exposed skin. When you had enough mind to open your eyes, you saw just how close his wings were.

You reached out and stroked them softly, letting your nails rake down them which sent him toppling over the edge. He roared into the night, spilling himself deep within you as left a final bite right above your breast. It was raw and carnal and everything you wanted as you followed him with your third orgasm of the night, milking every last drop of his cum.

Cassian held you still on his cock until he went soft, raising his head just enough to see the marks he had left across your beautiful skin. He grinned when he saw how red and purple they were already becoming.

“I love you, Cass.” You murmured, wiping the sweat off his brow as he gingerly set you down on the floor. “More than life itself.”

“From this day until we become anew.” He echoed his vows from earlier, kissing you softly as the bond between you sang with happiness and devotion. You couldn’t believe how blessed you were to be mated with him, to be able to spend the rest of your lives with this man.

And as he gave you that smoldering look, his eyes alight with mischief, you were also thankful for how blessed he was with that insatiable appetite reserved only for you. 

[dfortrafalgar]

I'm Losing You... (But We're Filling the Cracks)

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem. But sometimes, you just need a little bit of love... and a little bit of science.

Warnings: read chapter 1 for warnings

(also it's far too late in the game for me to be asking this but can someone help me figure out why everyone's blogs outside of the first five people in the tag list dont show up. ive been on tumblr since like 2014 and still cannot figure this stuff out im sobbing)

Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna | @chaixsherlock | @whore-of-many-hot-men | @nerdisthenewcool | @lilypadmomentum | @1dkneo | @kitsunechan707

Chapter 28

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Your maternity leave had started early, not helped by how active one of your babies was at the crack of dawn.  Every morning when you woke up to the sound of your alarm and rolled over to hoist yourself out of bed, you felt a kick against your abdomen.  When you stood up, you felt that familiar fluttering sensation.  One morning, you slept in only a few minutes longer than you normally did, and were punished with a small shove against your bladder that had you involuntarily unloading your urine into your pajama bottoms.

That one made you cry, Law keeping his chuckles to himself as he helped you clean up in the bathroom.

“Stop berating them through my stomach,” you sobbed.  “I just pissed my pants.”

Your husband had answered you with a soft kiss to your swollen skin as he bent down to pick up your soiled clothing and bring them to your washing machine.  “It happens, darling.  It wasn’t your fault.”

Needless to say, it had been an emotional third trimester thus far.

On a Friday evening, you were sitting reclined against the arm of your couch, a book resting on your belly as you munched on some apple slices when Law came bursting through the door.  He was frantic to kick off his shoes and shrug off his lab coat, hanging it on the hooks in the entryway before scrambling into the living room and plopping himself down next to you.  He was holding a notebook in his hand.

“Hello to you, too,” you stated sarcastically, placing a paper bookmark in your novel to mark your spot and adjusting yourself on the couch to sit with your legs crossed under you.

“I was busy on my break today,” Law stated matter-of-factly, flipping through the wrinkled notebook with a fervor.  When he found the page he was looking for, he folded the journal in half and held out the exposed page to face you.

A bunch of squares and barely legible writing covered the lined paper.  You squinted.  “I have no idea what I’m looking at, babe.”

Law rarely had moments where he got so excited that he couldn’t speak, but this was clearly one of those moments.  He would forget that other people didn’t have over 20 years of medical training going back to the age of five.  “Sorry, sorry.”  He turned the notebook back toward him, using his finger to point out what he had scribbled down.  “These are genetic predictions.  It’s estimated that about 50% of fraternal twins will be opposite genders, so a boy and a girl.  Which means about 25% will be both boys, and about 25% will be both girls.”  He moved his finger from one scribble to another.  “I have black hair, which I’m assuming to be the dominant gene among the two of us.  However, I’m also a carrier for brown hair, because my mother and sister both were brunettes.  Accounting for your hair color, I’m estimating that it’s a 75% chance that both of our babies will have black hair.  At least one of our babies will have my eye color, but I believe your eyes are the dominant trait.  I remember you saying at one point that someone in your family had curly hair, right?  I’m estimating a 25% chance that at least one of our kids will have curly hair.  If both of our babies are boys, the chances are 75% that they’ll be colorblind, and 25% that only one of them will be colorblind.  If both are girls, it’s a 75% chance that both of them will be carriers for the colorblind gene, 25% that only one of them will be.  But again, this is all approximations.  So then I started thinking about more technical stuff.  I have B+ blood, but I couldn’t remember what your blood type was, so we have to go off of the Rh factor, which is dominant with positive Rh, which means that at least one of our babies will have Rh positive blood, likely both.  Male pattern baldness is also a dominant trait in most families, but I’m 26 and still have a full head of hair, so hopefully if we have a boy, he won’t have to worry about hair loss.  Funnily enough, I learned today that having six fingers on one or both hands can actually be a dominant allele in some genetic lines, but neither of our family members have had any form of polydactyly that I can recall.  Just an interesting thought.  Anyway–”

Your shoulders were shaking with your laughter.  “Law, slow down!  Breathe!”  Your hands reached forward to grab his shoulders to settle his excited rambling, his face slowly losing color as he was speaking more than he was absorbing oxygen.

You watched as your husband took a long gulp of hair in before blowing it out slowly.  “Sorry.  I got excited.”

“Don’t apologize, you’re adorable,” you replied, stroking your hand along his cheek.  “How long did it take you to write all that down?”

Law glanced one more time at his notebook before closing it and discarding it on the coffee table.  “About 15 minutes.”

You snorted.  “I hope intelligence is a dominant trait so that both of our kids will be as smart as you.”

“You’re smart too,” he argued back, his voice light and content.

“Not ‘scribble down multiple punnett squares in 15 minutes’ smart,” you countered.  “Have you eaten anything yet?”

He shook his head, stretching his arms behind his back.  “Nope, I came straight home.  I was too excited to show you that.”

You grinned, struggling to lean forward to kiss the tip of his nose.  He assisted you by leaning forward on his own legs, pressing his forehead to yours.

“How have you been feeling?” he asked suddenly, diverting the topic.  One of his hands came to rest on the crest of your belly, petting the taught skin through your shirt.

“Tired,” you replied.  “It’s hard to stand up.  Robin said both babies are probably around 2 or 3 pounds by now, but honestly it feels like I’m carrying lead weights when I stand.  I feel like a turtle.”

“Any more movement?” he asked, scooting over the cushions to be closer to you, wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders to pull you into him.  You gladly followed his gesture, dropping your head into his neck.

“One of them moves in the morning still, the other likes to kick when I go to bed.  The only reason I’ve been able to tell is because I feel them on different sides,” you groaned.  “I don’t know what it looks like with them folded up in there, but they haven’t made it easy on me.”

Law hummed in response, his free hand stroking your belly.  The feeling of his palm against your bump felt more soothing than the finest lotion.  “I’m just glad that they’re both okay… not like I’m thrilled that you’re in pain, obviously, but…”

“No, trust me, I am too,” you sighed, closing your eyes.  “I’ve made it this long now, and both of them are still alive.  And pretty soon…”

Your husband knew exactly what you were going to say when your voice trailed off.  It was a subject the two of you had been tip-toeing around for quite some time.

The birth.

“That’s the one thing that’s still scaring me,” you admitted.  “I’m already high risk, and anything could go wrong.  I might have to be ripped open while awake to get them out.  I might die, even.”

Law felt his chest clench.  “Don’t say that, you won’t die.”

“But we don’t know that,” you sighed, your voice growing more nervous by the second.

“No, you won’t die,” he replied firmly.

You felt mildly guilty for broaching the subject.  You knew how difficult it was for him to even think about the slim chance of losing his family again, not when he had come so far and achieved so much with you.  You leaned your head upward to kiss the soft skin of his neck, his sideburns tickling your forehead.  You felt his arm around your shoulder pull you even closer to him, his breaths shallow.

“I’m sorry…” you muttered.

“Don’t be,” he responded quickly.  “I mean it.  You have nothing to be sorry for.”

His hand dropped from your belly to grasp your own, tilting his head down to meet your own as his lips gently pressed against yours.  Your eyes slipped closed, leaning into his tender kiss and wrapping your free arm around his torso.  The size of your belly made it hard to be flush against him, but you made do.  After all, you would have to get used to cuddling with two babies soon enough.

You pulled away from his lips.  “Hey, so how’s the studying been?  For that surgery?”

Law groaned, not at you, but at the mere thought of the looming procedure that had been bearing on his mind for the past eight weeks.  “I feel like I’m back in med school, that’s for sure.  I feel ready for it, but at the same time I can never be too prepared.  It’s going to be… a lot.”

Dual heart-lung transplants were very, very rare, and used for the most severe of cases.  The procedure had never been performed at Law’s hospital before.  Single heart transplants had been done, and a few lung transplants, but never at the same time.  Law’s cardiac ward was specifically chosen for the operation because of the young doctor’s expertise in the field.  The patient’s life was quite literally in Law’s hands.

A small smirk flashed on his face.  “I started wearing gloves in that patient’s room with his family.  I don’t want them to see the tattoos on my fingers.”

“Do you not wear gloves for any other patients?” you asked with a small giggle.  

“No, I do, when performing treatments.  When I’m on rounds, I just stick my hands in my pockets,” he explained.  He had one dimple on his cheek that showed up when he smiled.  You couldn’t help but peck a quick kiss to it.  His stomach suddenly grumbled, startling the two of you.

“You stay right here, I’ll make us some dinner,” he said, making a move to stand up.

“Pancakes,” you demanded with your own mischievous smirk.

“We had pancakes a week ago,” he replied with a smile.

“And?”

Law leaned down for one last kiss on the crown of your head.  “Alright.�� Pancakes it is.”

—

Your pregnancy journal had gone from an anxious possession that you worried would jynx your good luck to a vice that you crawled back to whenever you were bored.  The pages were filled with the ink from your pen as you used the prompts to delve into some of the thoughts you kept to yourself, your feelings about your body, your babies, your relationships, the hopes and dreams and the worries and troubles you tried not to stress about.  You kept track of the gifts you had received, the words of advice from your doctor, and the unprovoked comments from elderly ladies at the supermarket who liked to comment about how cute of a couple you were when you shopped for food with your husband.

The grouchy, black-haired surgeon with bags under his eyes and a resting bitch face, and you, his slightly shorter, glowing wife with a very large pregnant belly and a polite, shining smile on her face.  You were truly a match made in heaven, one might say.

Law had been busier and busier in the weeks getting closer to your due date.  As the weather got colder, the holidays came and went, and the new year began, he was diving more and more into his studies preparing for what was easily the largest, most intense, and most serious surgery of his professional career.  Some might assume that you would get tired of the neglect, growing frustrated that he wasn’t around to spend time with you in your third trimester, but in reality, you couldn’t be more proud.

The sight of him hunched over your kitchen table surrounded by old textbooks and papers was an image straight out of your college days, where you’d let yourself into his single dorm room close to midnight and find him on his floor in the dim lighting surrounded on all sides by professional journals, research papers, and textbooks from every esteemed surgeon in his field.  You’d sit down next to him and diligently push french fries against his lips as his eyes stayed glued to his studies, rewarding you during his sparse downtime with awkward kisses that tasted like salt and firm yet shaky hands that were obsessed with traveling up and down your body.  

The only difference now was that Law was that professional in his field, that he was in an apartment, and that you both had rings on your fingers.  The french fries stayed the same, but he at least had a piece of mind to feed himself while you watched from the couch and giggled.  Every once in a while, he would lean back against his seat and pop his spine with a satisfied groan, toss you a fond look across the room, and go back to reading.  Sometimes, you would stand behind him and rub his stiff shoulders, encouraging him to stand up and stretch his legs just as he would do to you to ensure you remained strong during the final weeks of your pregnancy.

The only thing weighing on your mind was the panging worry that he would be in the middle of this massive procedure when you went into labor.  You were both informed by your doctor that most twins would be delivered either naturally or induced at around 36 weeks, almost a month before single babies were usually born, and with your due date at 38 weeks being in the middle of May, you had a nagging feeling in your head that he would miss it.

You both tried to hold onto hope that your babies would be delivered any other day that month.  He would be gone for only a day, a full 24 hours, in total the day of the surgery.  What were the odds that your babies would be born on that specific day?  Slim, to say the least.

At around 32 weeks, it was getting hard for you to stand up.  Your movements were slow and labored, and you were spending most of your days in your apartment either on your couch or in your bed, standing up when instructed by Law, or Shachi and Penguin when he was at work, to walk laps around your home.  The fear of blood clots forming in your legs and traveling to your lungs, as described by your lovely husband in far too much detail, was enough to make you more determined to keep the blood pumping in your body.

“Alright, ready?” Law stated, standing behind you in the kitchen as you slowly made your way through a pile of dirty dishes in the sink.

“Ready,” you stated back, your eyes focused on washing the silverware in your hands.

His inked hands traveled around your torso and under your belly, lifting up against the bottom of your bump.  The sudden relief of having the weight lifted off of your back made an almost erotic moan leave your lips, your grip on the silverware releasing slightly as the tension in your entire body flooded from your veins like a broken dam.

“Feel good?” he asked from behind you with a smirk, his chin resting on the crown of your head.

“Oh my god,” you groaned.  “I saw a lot of posts that said that it feels good, but I didn’t think it would feel this good.  I wish you could do that constantly.”

Sparse kisses were placed to the back of your head as his hands slowly released their pressure against the bottom of your bump, leaving your back aching once more as your body was forced to bear the brunt of the weight in your abdomen.  You stifled a whimper as you were forced to hold what felt like 50 extra pounds on your own again, but Law’s lingering presence behind you with his hands resting idly on your belly soothed your aches subconsciously.

“Busy spring, huh?” he asked, filling the room where the only other sound was the sloshing from your dish washing.

You hummed in response, rinsing your hands and turning off the tap, drying your hands on a towel that lay on the counter beside you.  “You could say that.”  You turned around to lean against the counter, Law’s hands remaining on your body as you rotated.  He leaned forward to capture your lips in his, you rewarding him with a smile.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to be more physical with you…” you sighed.

Law pulled away.  “Why are you sorry for that?”

You shrugged.  “You seem like you’ve been a lot more handsy with me lately, and I can’t reciprocate.  And I’m probably not going to be able to reciprocate for a while after I give birth.”

Your husband chuckled, planting chaste kisses across your cheeks.  “I’m not ‘being handsy with you’ because I want anything.  I’m ‘being handsy’ because I want you to be happy and comfortable.  I’m not expecting anything in return.  And by the way,” he pulled away to stare into your worried eyes.  “I know what you’re thinking.  You’re thinking about your post-birth body being somehow inferior to how you were before pregnancy, I know it.”

You averted your gaze, your lips pinching together.

“And I know you don’t like the stretch marks on your belly,” he added.

“Where are you going with this?” you asked, your voice quiet.

“Because I’m going to remind you every day how beautiful you are.  Always.  Even the changes that come with having a child.  You’re always going to be beautiful to me.  I’ll never be repulsed by your stretch marks or wrinkled skin or cellulite like you think I’m going to be.  The person standing in front of me is a beautiful woman who has given me a life worth living, and I’m going to cherish her and support her through everything.”

Your eyes darted toward his neck, where his glass necklace still sat between his collarbones.  He religiously wore it every single day, only taking it off to shower, sleep, and perform surgeries.  Likewise, you never removed your glass ring.  Hot tears began to form in your eyes, but your lips curled into a smile.  Your expression fought for dominance over being happy or sad, and what resulted was a shaky grin, furrowed eyebrows, and watery eyes.

“What did I do to deserve you?” you asked, letting a few lose tears escape the corners of your eyes.

Your husband kissed the damp streaks that your tears left behind on your cheeks.  “You fed me french fries on the floor of my dorm room in college.  I think that’s when I knew you were going to be my wife one day.”

A bubbly laugh left your throat as your hands gripped his shoulders for stability.  “I think I knew when you found me out behind my dorm building that night.”

Law leaned in to kiss you one more time, but a sudden gasp left your lips as your entire body tensed up.  A stinging cramping sensation rippled across your abdomen, lingering in your muscles.  It lasted about 30 seconds, where your shaking hands clenched the cotton of Law’s shirt, his eyes wide and frenzied as his hands supported your upright posture, before the pain finally dissipated into a mild buzz, then nothing at all.

You stared into Law’s eyes.  “Can you help me sit down?”

[arcandoria]

Prompt: Armor

for Veilguard30, featuring Alythess Cousland and Alistair Theirin

It doesn’t sit right.

Of course it wouldn’t – not like tailored armor would. The tasset is almost too big for her, and as such she has to compensate for the weight by buckling the straps tightly. The leather digs into her hips, and even though it’s simply uncomfortable now, it was going to chaff tremendously later, especially if she had to wear this for too long.

And by the way smoke filled her lungs alongside the stench of death and decay coming from the Wilds where the darkspawn waited for them, she was going to wear it for a long time.

She was a Grey Warden now, not Alythess Cousland.

There were no more tailored armor sets with perfectly fitting pieces that minded her size and frame. Her own set of armor - a gift on her 18th birthday - had been left behind amidst the burning stones of Highever.

She looks down to the weapons laid in front of her. They’d given her two new swords, but she’d handed one back. Sure, she was a Grey Warden now, not Alythess Cousland. But she will still carry her family’s sword from now on.

Alythess senses him before he’s close — and assumes he’s able to do the same. It’s weird, so incredibly weird, and she knows that the bile and darkness crawling inside her now is responsible for it, but she is just fresh from the joining, and sensing the people around her is still unsettling.

“Sorry to hurry you up, but the king is waiting and all that.” Alistair says from somewhere behind her. “How’s the armor?”

It’s too big. The leather straps dig into her hips and ribs. It’s going to chaff eventually.

“It’s fine.” She answers, her voice even as she works the last few straps and buckles.

The other Warden hums behind her, and she assumes he’s nodding.

“What about you? Are you— you know, alright?”

There’s death crawling inside her. There’s been death crawling inside her since Highever burned and she had to turn her back on it. It’s stuck in her throat, thick.

“I’m fine.” Her voice comes off the same.

“Right… We’ll be waiting for you then.”

He doesn’t sound concerned. The correct word might be disappointed. 

Alistair had been trying, at least, to make things sound and feel normal. He knew how much it wasn’t, but maybe because he was the most recent addition before her own, he felt bad about her state. Or maybe he was just that compassionate - she had to believe there were still people like this in the world. She couldn’t allow Howe to taint how she saw everyone from now on.

She breathed.

“Alistair?”

He’d already turned to leave, a few steps away from the armory corner she’d been using to don her armor.

“Yes?”

“It’s a bit too big and the straps can’t sit in the right place, and I can’t adjust them properly on my own. Can you help?” She half-twisted to face him over her shoulder.

His face lit up, and Alythess controlled the urge to roll her eyes, or smirk, or both.

“Oh, right! Of course. Shame we can’t make these universal sizes, huh?” He’d walked up to her then, hesitating awkwardly at first to touch the straps badly fastened against her ribs, before starting to help out with them. “Although I guess you might just be too small.”

She shot him an annoyed glance that was almost convincing, before quipping back. “I suppose they needed me at a disadvantage so you don’t get too embarrassed when we’re fighting.”

[skyward-floored]

Hey Sky, hope one of these seems like a nice distraction (and feel better soon!): (fun version): Berry (or Swamp), like all Links, is supernaturally good at mini-games. Because he's lived in a town (or swamp) without an archery range, guessing game, or anything he doesn't know this until his quest takes him to a larger settlement, where he finds out he simply can't not win at these things. He immediately goes bananas and takes full advantage of his goddess-given ability to win carnival swag.

(fun or angsty depending how you spin it) Swamp link has to go to a desert temple, immediately concludes he does not like the desert, spends a few days looking for a special tunic a la Zora's/Goron's/etc since clearly it's too dry to survive without some kind of protective clothing -- is horrified to discover he might just have to use his regular clothing.

That second one tickled me the most (though I like that first one a bunch too). Tried to go for a bit fun and angsty, though i'm not sure i succeeded. Regardless, long story short: Swamp doesn't like the desert.

...

Link stared at the expanse of sand in front of him, nothing but a handful of rock formations breaking up the rolling dunes. Normally he’d be excited to explore an area he’d never visited, but... he could already tell he wouldn’t like it.

When he’d first heard of the desert, he’d assumed he’d just need some sort of new tunic or something to make it comfortable, since that was what he did for most other places he’d come across. But he’d looked everywhere, and asked everyone he could think of, and nobody had heard anything about a tunic that would make the desert more bearable.

A merchant close to the entrance had warned him to bring extra water and keep his face covered, but that was it. Link just couldn’t believe he was supposed to trek through all of that empty sand without any divine tunic protection. What use was being a hero if he didn’t get divine tunic protection?!

Oh well. There was nothing to it.

He needed to go through it, and go through it he would.

Link sighed, and stepped onto the sand, beginning what would hopefully be a short trek through the desert.

...

Several hours later, Link felt like he’d made no progress.

The sun beat down on him mercilessly, harsh and bright, and he could feel sand working its way onto and into every bit of him, shoes and shirt and everything. He’d fought some weird spiky monsters that had poked up through the sand, and some bird things, but while they were annoying, it was nothing compared how dry it was. Link had already drank half of his water, and he still felt drier than he had his whole life, even with the beads of sweat trickling down his brow.

Sand and rocks. An occasional monster. Dry, hot, blistering wind.

Link felt like he was shriveling into a raisin.

He checked the map he’d been given, and groaned, the distance he still had to go much too long. Maybe he needed a quick break. To go with the multiple other quick breaks he’d already taken.

Link plodded towards a rock that stuck up from the sand, casting the tiniest bit of shade on the ground. He slumped next to it, panting like a dog, and drank more of his precious water, wishing he could dunk it over his head. If only there was a pond around here that he could jump in, he’d feel better immediately. Even if it was just something he could dip his head into and get his hair wet.

But no. Nothing but sand stretched out endlessly before him. Sand and rocks. And an occasional scraggly plant that looked more dead than alive.

Stupid sand. Stupid rocks. Stupid dead plants that if they were smart would go live in the swamp instead of here.

Link sighed wearily, and stood back up, stumbling as his vision wobbled. It fixed itself after a moment, the bright sunlight coming back into view, and Link shook his head, trying to shoo away his dizziness.

He really wished he was back home right now.

Link took in a steadying breath, then kept going, kicking up sand as he went. What a crummy place. Who would ever want to live somewhere so dry?

The sand he kicked didn’t answer him, and Link scowled at it, wiping a drop of sweat off his brow.

He kept plodding his way over the dunes, squinting through the sun, trying to follow his map. It must have been outdated though, since Link was supposed to have come across a rock shaped like a lizard by now, and hadn’t seen anything of the sort.

In fact... he wasn’t sure this was a map of this desert at all.

Link moaned, swiping hair out of his face as he scanned the horizon. He saw no landmarks like the one on his map, and he wasn’t even sure which direction he’d come from.

He was lost. Great.

“Can’t you give me a break?!” he yelled up at the sun, but it kept shining on him anyway.

Link grumbled, but he was too hot and dry to be any angrier, and he kept plodding forward, too tired to even kick at the sand anymore. Shouldn’t he at least be close to where he’d been trying to get by now? That merchant had said the temple wasn’t that far.

Course, he’d also been the one that had sold him that map.

Link’s foot caught on something and he fell face-first into the sand, the tiny grains getting even more all over him and sticking to his face. He raised his head and spat out the sand that had gotten in his mouth, wiping shakily at his face.

He was done. Nope. He hated the desert. He was hot and exhausted and so dry he felt like he was going to be sick, he was done.

Link spat out more sand, and tried to swallow away the dry feeling in his throat. He'd been homesick on and off on his journey, but right now... this was the worst he’d felt it. He wanted to go home so badly it hurt. He wanted to take a dip in the water around the village, swim with his family, he wanted to feel rain on his face, he wanted shade and trees and his mother’s fish pie.

But mostly he just... wanted water.

Link clutched at the sand, angrily throwing a handful of it away from him, and shakily sat up, wiping more sweat and sand from his face. He was going to go to the nearest rock formation with some reasonable shade, and take a nap. And then he was going to go back and give that merchant a piece of his mind. He'd figure out what else to do later.

Link looked around, and spotting some rocks in the distance that looked like a good choice, plodded wearily in their direction. His annoyance gave him some strength, and though he nearly tripped multiple times on his trek, he managed to make it without any significant injury or the like.

Feet dragging, Link stumbled over to the shaded side of the outcropping of rocks, blearily taking in the handful of plants poking up around them. He looked around for a good spot to crash, then froze, eyes going wide.

Hidden among the rocks was a small pond.

A pond.

Link stared for all of two seconds, then scrambled forward, nearly tripping in his haste. He leapt straight into the water with a laugh, cool water rushing over his head and giving him instant relief. It was the perfect temperature, and Link stayed under as long as he could hold his breath, practically feeling his energy return.

He surfaced with a small gasp, wiping away the bit of sand that was still stubbornly stuck to him, and paddled over to the edge, drinking some water as he went. It was nothing compared to home, but it was water and relief, and Link couldn't have been happier.

Thank goodness.

Link set his head on a rock, closing his eyes and keeping the rest of himself submerged, smiling at the feel of the water against his skin. The pond didn't entirely fix his problems, but it sure did help with the worst of them. Everything always seemed better when he was in the water.

Link sighed, and sank lower into the pond, sipping a bit more of it and relishing the coolness on his throat. He could go trek around the horrible dry desert again later.

For now... he would take a break.

And then find something better to wear in this horrible place.

[theboywithburninghands]

We’ve arrived. The final chapter, apart from an epilogue. I hope it was worth the wait. Some characters by @noble-crimson and @cleoarrow appear again. Also, @toonsforkicks22 and @fernstarsblog the story is complete now. Phew… I can’t believe I actually did it.

T/W: Violence, parental and emotional abuse, homophobia, drug addiction, era-appropriate sexism.

Primum Peccatum Final Chapter: Thanks for The Memories

Their reception was held within Lakepoint. The function center was decorated with white lace and the occasional splash of red or blue. The round tables, six seats at each, were dressed with white tablecloths, a glass carafe in the middle of each, filled halfway with water and a red and blue rose. Fine white ceramic plates, each with a silverware roll wrapped with a white napkin and a red or blue satin ribbon. On the long rectangular center table was a three-decker Angel food cake, frosted elegantly with white buttercream, purple and green sugar blossoms climbing up the sides. Jade green bottles of champagne, their tops wrapped in gold foil, sat beside dozens of identically arranged flute glasses. To the right of the champagne, a large silver kettle of coffee, several boats of cream and a bowl of frosty sugar cubes beside white mugs on white saucers.

Pomni walked with her husband, hand in hand, to their reserved head table. As was customary, the bride’s side of the family sat with them. Vladimir, Mirella and Zooble sat with them, along with Mr. Kinger. He was family. Pomni was the last to be seated, as she had elected to bring everyone something to drink. Normally, the bride wasn’t to raise a finger for her guests. But it was Pomni’s wedding, and she couldn’t be persuaded otherwise.

“Your vows were absolutely beautiful, piccola, they brought me to tears…” Mirella sighed, sipping from her flute of champagne.

“I am glad they moved you, mother,” Pomni Krolik said. She finished the cup of coffee she had poured for herself, wiping her chin with a napkin. “I spoke from the heart. As you have so often told me not to do.”

Mirella’s reply was cut off by Mr. Kinger.

“Mr. Krolik, what are you to do now? Now that you’re married I assume you must find a trade.” he said, sipping his black coffee.

“I would first like to fully recover from my illness, as well as enjoy some time with my wife, before I seek an occupation.” Jax replied. His tone was pleasant but somewhat uneasy. “There is also the matter of inheritances.”

“Indeed,” Vladimir said. “All of that shall be taken care of. In just a few days, your estate will be prepared. I have the paperwork for the property and for your inheritances in my desk-”

“In the first drawer on the right,” Pomni added. “All your documents to be signed are put there for safekeeping and ease of access.”

“Yes dear, your memory never fails, does it? In the first drawer on the right.” Vladimir smiled. “Goodness, I’m proud of you. You’ve adapted so well to your circumstances… And you were so obstinate before!”

“Adapting is certainly an accurate description,” Pomni said. She picked up her quarter-full flute of champagne and sipped. She was not a fan of drinking. It spoiled her focus. So she opted for a paltry amount for ceremony’s sake.

“I suppose now is as good a time to say so. Welcome to our family.”

A deep voice behind her made Pomni turn in her seat. Drexl Krolik stood, arms tucked behind his back and dwarfing just about everyone at the table. Boone stood at his side, his mouth firmly closed. He met Pomni’s eyes and glanced away.

“Mr. Krolik, I’m delighted to see you! Wasn’t the ceremony lovely?” Mirella asked.

“Quite. I was impressed by my son and my daughter-in-law’s rhetoric,” Drexl said, clapping a massive paw to Jax’s shoulder, who flinched conspicuously.

“And what a performance by your second son!” Kinger exclaimed. “That voice of his is astounding, where did you train him?”

Drexl sniffed. “He’s self taught. My involvement with such frivolities is minimal, I assure you. He is a career driven lad, much like the rest of my family. While we were on the subject, however…”

Drexl turned to look at Pomni, who had quaffed her mostly empty champagne flute.

“I was curious, Mrs. Pomni, if you had the chance to consider my offer? Krolik International would love to have you onboard as a member.”

Pomni took a deep breath and smiled, setting her empty champagne glass down on the table with a clink, a bit of leftover froth trickling down and resting at the bottom of the flute.

“Why yes I have, Mr. Krolik! I’ve pondered your offer for some time now, and after careful consideration, I’ve decided that I’d rather have a job wiping the prime minister’s arse than work for you!”

Kinger put a hand to his mouth in a soft gasp. Zooble made a sound that sounded like an abnormally loud cough. A deafening silence fell over the hall.

“Pomni-!” her father exclaimed. “M-Mr. Krolik, I’m truly sorry, she doesn’t normally drink- I’m certain that she didn’t mean a word of-”

“Father?” Pomni arose from her seat. “Firstly, I am not inebriated. Secondly, I don’t feel at all comfortable working with that man. You’ve already pawned me off once, I’d prefer if you didn’t do it again…”

Her father spun about, a vein popping on his forehead. “Pomni Shutnyk-!”

“Pomni Krolik, father. Please get it right. It was your idea. And if you please, shut up a moment. I’m explaining to you why I don’t want to work for this man. You will let me speak.”

Pomni turned from her stunned father and looked back at Drexl Krolik.

“Mr. Krolik. I can’t speak on your skills as a businessman, because from what I can tell, you are perfectly successful. However, as a father and authority figure, you disgust me on a visceral level. What do you gain from putting your hands on your own sons?”

Drexl’s eyes ballooned to double their size. “Are you accusing me of harming my own brood?” he whispered.

“Ha. Please don’t playact being offended. I know you harm your own “brood.” In fact, I saw you slap Osvaldo and Boone in the face the evening I had dinner at your manor.”

Jax winced. Other guests had turned to look in confusion. The Gentleman in Red, unnoticed, finished cutting himself a piece of cake and watched from the end of the table.

“That’s true, isn’t it Boone?” Pomni said. “Your father is rather wicked at the best of times, is he not?”

Pomni took a look at Boone, who shrank and stammered. Everyone had turned to look by now. Ragatha clutched her necklace of beads and whispered prayers to herself.

“Pomni, you’ve said quite enough-” her father began.

“Father, do you love me?” interrupted Pomni.

“Do I-?”

“If you love me, you will not give me over to Mr. Krolik. He is a fiend.” Pomni gestured to Drexl, who stood like a bull. “I will suffer under his leadership, make no mistake.”

Jax got to his feet. “I’m afraid I must agree, Mr. Shutnyk. My father would surely bring harm to your daughter should he be put in a position of authority over her. As her husband, I cannot allow this.”

“This is obscene!” Drexl barked. “I am appalled at your lack of decorum, the both of you! I magnanimously offer you, my daughter-in-law, a position at my company despite your gender and this is my thanks?!”

“Yes,” Jax replied.

“Allow me to elaborate, ladies and gentlemen!” Pomni climbed onto her chair so she could be seen and heard more clearly. Perched up there, she looked like some form of odd white Phoenix.

“Be careful, dear..!” Kinger exclaimed.

“That incredible performance that you heard this morning? Mr. Krolik found the idea of his son composing and performing a song for our wedding so abhorrent that he struck him in the face! I witnessed it, roughly around 9:30 PM on the seventh of this month. The performer, Osvaldo, my brother-in-law, could not join us for the reception, because he worried for his safety and had to flee the premises. Fearful of his own father’s wrath!”

Pomni glared at Drexl, her eyes glinting with righteous anger. “From what I’ve been told, your four sons and daughter in law live in terror of you. You’re impossible to please yet entirely too easy to displease! And when you’re displeased-”

“Pomni-” Mirella began.

“Mother, hush.” Pomni snapped. “And when you’re displeased, you hurt people. So if I were to displease you as your underling, what would you do? Hm? Hit me? You’d knock me flying. Perhaps even concuss me! But you wouldn’t be caught, no, a man like you is talented at not leaving marks, correct?”

“It’s true,” Boone said.

Drexl whipped his head around to look at his older son. Pomni and Jax looked at him as well.

“It’s true. My father is a tyrant,” Boone said, taking several steps away from Drexl and avoiding his searing gaze. “In fact, not long ago, he did this.”

Boone opened his mouth, placing a thumb and finger over one of his front teeth and neatly plucking it from the socket. The guests gasped.

Ragatha hastened her prayers. The crow-woman stood and left the reception, clutching some silverware in her wings. The Gentleman in Red had a bite of cake.

“I did no such thing!” Drexl thundered.

“But you did, father! You’re always trying not to leave marks, but this time you boxed me a might too smartly, didn’t you?” Boone shot back.

“Cease these lies at once!” Drexl roared.

“Or else you’ll do what?” Boone shouted back. “Knock a few more teeth loose? Oh, I’m so very scared!”

The patriarch of the deer family, possibly even taller than Drexl with fur so brown it was nearly black, rose to his feet. His cinnabar eyes burned with severity.

“What kind of a man puts his paws on his children, Krolik?” he demanded. His voice was a heavily accented growl.

“Lawrence, this is all nonsense!” Drexl spluttered.

“No man at all,” Kinger said, slowly shaking his head.

“I’m afraid the bridegroom speaks the truth,” Altonicus said, standing from his table. “I was often spared from my father’s wrath on account of being the oldest son, a guilt I struggle with to this day… But even I have been denied meals and been a recipient of floggings. I became a doctor because it was my passion, and it happened to be profitable, so my father allowed it. Osvaldo wishes to be a vocalist, and is undeniably skilled, as you all have seen, but father sees such a career as and “womanly.” So he refuses to allow Osvaldo the chance to pursue his dream.”

Kali got to her feet. “It isn’t limited to his offspring, either. I live in fear of Drexl as well. Alton and I have avoided bringing a child into this world because I would worry for their safety… And I…”

Kali covered her mouth and sniffled, Altonicus holding her other paw.

“Kali, may I?” Jax said.

“You’ve all said quite enough!” Drexl growled.

“Slanderous little harlot… I would never-”

“I have not had the flu.” Jax interjected.

“Pardon me?!” his father barked.

“I have not had the flu. Rather, I have been ill, but not from any rogue paramecium.” Jax turned to his sister in law and repeated himself. “Kali, may I?”

Kali wiped her eyes and nodded. “I’ve bore this anxiety long enough. Tell your story.”

Jax smiled gently and nodded.

“This is all hearsay, hearsay and lies!” Drexl thundered.

“No, Mr. Krolik. I would like to hear from my son-in-law.” Vladimir said coolly.

“Thank you, Mr. Shutnyk.” Jax said. “When I was 17, Boone and I got into an altercation. I fell from a bridge, and broke my arm and several ribs…”

Boone looked down at his shoes, still maintaining a careful distance from his father.

“Kali tried to ease my pain by giving me a bit of laudanum. She only knew that laudanum was a powerful sedative, not a narcotic, and wanted to grant me some respite from the pain, because she is a good sister…”

Kali broke into sobs, sinking into her chair. Alton wrapped an arm around her. Jax had begun pacing around the reception.

“And thus, when I began craving more laudanum and the pain returned worse than ever, Kali was forced to hide her mistake and bring me more. Now, why was this the best choice, you may ask? My brother is a doctor, surely he would have a way to remedy the situation… It was because I was still living with my father.”

Drexl simply stared, livid.

“If he discovered Kali made this mistake, no matter how well-intentioned and repairable, he would surely fly into a rage. He certainly would have attacked her, or Alton… Perhaps even me for acting an inebriate. And so she gave me more opium to ease the pain and avoid arousing his suspicions until I had healed, yet had a hopeless craving for poppy. I struggled with it for five years…

“That is why I’ve been ill. I apologize for lying to you all. My wife encouraged Kali and Alton to aid in getting me off the awful tincture now that I’ve been away from my father’s prying eyes. I have been in the midst of battling withdrawals. It is incredibly unpleasant, but I am on the mend.”

Jax, now at the other end of the hall, turned to address the guests. They were utterly transfixed.

“Now you all see the depth of the terror my father inspires. No mistakes are permitted around him, lest you face his wrath, be you offspring or in-law. Pomni and I apologize for dampening the mood of the wedding, but we wanted everyone to know my father’s true character.”

The door opened, and Osvaldo entered. He held a file under his arm, gasping and holding it to his chest upon seeing his father standing in the middle of the mostly silent room.

“Osvaldo, welcome in. Would you like to add to the litany of accusations against your father?” Pomni asked with poison politeness.

“Don’t be frightened, Aldo,” Jax said, standing at his older brother’s side and accepting the file that he girded himself with. “You can say what you like.”

The gray rabbit shook his head frantically. “I shouldn’t…” he muttered.

“Do not contribute to this slander, Osvaldo.” Drexl warned.

“Sir, we would like to hear from your son,” the son of the deer family said. He looked at the gray rabbit with an expression that might be read as protective. Osvaldo blushed and swallowed, but shook his head again.

“Osvaldo. We’ll entertain this piffle no longer. We are returning home.” Drexl said.

Sister Ragatha approached Osvaldo. Although he was an inch or so taller than she, she bent slightly at the waist to speak to him.

“Osvaldo… My child, there is nothing to fret about.” she said, using her softest and voice and wearing her warmest smile. “I think you’ve been exceptionally brave today already. However, I need to know the truth because it concerns a dear friend of mine. Would Pomni be in danger working for your father?”

Osvaldo chewed his lip, squinting his eyes shut.

“Ozzy,” Boone said. “Go ahead. It will be alright.”

After an agonizing number of seconds, he nodded.

“Mutinous little CUR!!!”

Drexl drove his fist into Pomni’s table, knocking it onto one leg and catapulting champagne flutes and coffee cups across the hall, which shattered into dust or clinked shrilly across the floor.

Mirella yowled and fell out of her chair, Vladimir diving to her aid. Zooble was struck on the armpit by the tabletop and knocked to the ground. Pomni tumbled from her chair as well, shielding her face with her arm with a loud exclamation. Kinger slid over and caught her before she hit the ground, although she took him to his knees with the impact of landing. Jax made a dash for Pomni from across the hall, losing a shoe mid-stride. The table wobbled feebly on its solitary leg before falling onto its side, the tablecloth fluttering to the ground and forks and spoons and butter knives sliding free from their undone rolls.

“Mrs. Krolik, are you quite alright?!” Kinger asked, holding the small woman tenderly as Jax skidded to his side, kneeling to assure that she was unharmed.

“I-I-I am fine, I… Osvaldo?!” Pomni sat up at attention, looking across the hall.

Drexl moved like a charging steam engine towards Osvaldo, who whimpered and crouched to his knees, covering his head with his arms. Guests all around the room gasped and got to their feet, some shouting in protest. Ragatha stood before Drexl, clutching her necklace in a fist.

“Sir, I would ad-”

A huge palm lashed across her face, the Gray Sister yelping and falling to the floor.

“DARLING!” Gangle shrieked, kneeling at her side.

Drexl seized Osvaldo by the throat and pulled him up with alarming force.

“Father, no, please!” Boone cried.

Drexl ignored this and began to squeeze. Altonicus vaulted over his table and sprinted towards his younger brother, only to skid to a halt.

There was a sharp scrape of metal across metal as Drexl felt something cold press to the back of his neck. He turned and ceased all movement.

“You-!” Pomni could be heard saying.

The Gentleman in Red had crossed the room. Nobody had seen him walk, oddly. He was by the wedding cake, and then he was not. He’d withdrawn a rapier, as thin as a fencer’s foil, hidden in his cane, and pressed it to the back of Drexl’s head, directly on his brainstem.

“Sir,” The Gentleman said, as calmly as a constable might speak to one who had just tossed their sandwich paper onto the sidewalk. “Please allow your son down.”

Drexl Krolik snarled like an enraged wolverine, but did not move.

“Sir, again,” The Gentleman said. “I must ask you, allow your son down. I need only push a centimeter or two and you will cease to be. I do not wish to do this, and I am certain you do not either. Go on.”

Drexl’s pupils dilated from the slits that they had shrunken too. The Gentleman in Red looked at him sternly. Osvaldo fell from his father’s paws and scrambled backwards on his rear end. He crouched behind a table and was just about to curl up and weep when a hoof touched him on the shoulder.

“Sir, are you quite alright?” a deep voice asked.

The son of the deer family knelt at his side, honey-brown eyes shimmering with concern. Osvaldo did not reply with words, bursting into tears and covering his face with his paws. The deer rubbed his back and spoke softly.

“My name is Dawson. I loved your performance…”

The hall was silent apart from whispers and sobs. Drexl remained where he was, the rapier pressing against the back of his head. Vladimir rose to his feet.

“Mr. Krolik. In light of this new development, I will not be signing my daughter onto your firm. I will also be reconsidering my family’s donation to yours. You are no longer welcome at this reception. Good day.”

Drexl looked at Pomni, who had gotten to her feet. The look in his eyes could have poisoned an alpine stream. Pomni felt a lurch of fear in her belly that he might cross the room, grab her head with a single paw and tear it from her shoulders. The Gentleman in Red hopefully had quick reflexes…

Drexl turned to Zuzanna, thrusting a finger to the door. “Wyjeżdżamy.”

Zuzanna remained in her seat. Her normally sweet countenance was icy.

“Zuzanna! Właśnie teraz wychodzimy!”

“Obawiam się, że to trudne,” she replied.

A few of Jax’s cousins gave nervous input in Ediacaran. Zooble got to their feet, groaning with pain. Nothing was broken, but they were going to bruise terribly.

Drexl’s mouth twitched. He looked to Boone.

“Boone. Come along,” he ordered.

Boone slid his tooth back into its socket and looked his father in the face.

“Mother would hate who you’ve become. Go fuck yourself,” he replied.

There was a scattering of gasps from the guests. One indigo rabbitwoman flipped open her fan and rapidly waved it on her neck. Ragatha made a sound of disbelief as Gangle helped her into her chair.

Drexl balled his fists. He stared a moment longer before whirling about, stomping to the exit door and throwing it open hard enough so that it slammed against the outside wall with teeth-chattering force. The Gentleman in Red sheathed his rapier and rested both hands on his cane, observing the hullabaloo. He nodded to Vladimir.

“Delicious cake, Mr. Shutnyk,” he said.

Pomni put ice from the champagne bucket in one of the napkins, a blue one, and gave it to Zooble to help with their injury, doing the same for Ragatha, this time in a red one. She then strode over to Jax, who watched Drexl Krolik retreat into the distance before he closed the door.

“Are you alright?” she asked, holding his paw.

“I am alright. Are you? I’m sorry I didn’t catch you…” he said.

“Think nothing of it. You were helping your brother. I would like to go home. May I see those documents?”

Jax handed her the folder. She brought it to her parents, who were still gathering themselves off the floor. Jax went to

“Pomni, we had no idea that-” her mother began.

“Yes, I’m sure you didn’t. Do not worry about that now. Please review these documents, if you don’t mind.”

Vladimir opened the folder. Inside were about a half dozen penned documents. The handwriting was of such a neat and blocky quality that it could only be Pomni’s.

“And these are?” Vladimir asked.

“A few bits and bobs. Notice of intent to vacate, acceptance papers from the New Hirnantian Embassy in Ediacara, transfer of ownership for a piece of property… and a few letters of intent to pursue legal action should Jax and I not be given our dowry.”

Vladimir put on his spectacles and skimmed through the papers, then looked up, perplexed.

“You’re… giving the manor we’re gifting you away?” he asked.

“We can hardly take it with us to Ediacara, can we? Besides, Osvaldo would benefit from it more. He needs a place to live, after all. So he can live there along with whoever he chooses.” Pomni said.

“You’re moving to another country? But Pomni, why? Why would you do this..?” Mirella pleaded.

“Please don’t begin the crocodile tears, mother.” Pomni sighed. “Yes, we’re moving to Ediacara. Drexl Krolik’s offer may have been laughable, but I was quite intrigued by his mention that women can work there. There are other issues, assuredly, but at least I won’t be doomed to a life of domestic servitude as I would here.”

“But… Pomni, what about-” Vladimir began.

“I’ve told you before, father. Your firm interests me no longer. Although Jax and I love each other, I have not forgotten how betrayed I felt three weeks ago, as well as both of your complete and utter indifference towards my distress. That hurt almost as much as you going behind my back. It not only broke my heart, it showed me that I exist as a commodity to you, not as your daughter. If I hadn’t learned of Drexl’s vicious personality, I would be at his mercy and it would have been entirely your doing.”

Mirella burst into tears, earning a roll of the eyes from Pomni.

“Mother, really. That is not needed. Now, if you two are truly apologetic, you will give me my dowry and let me go. Perhaps then I will let you back into my life. If you attempt to skimp on my inheritance, then you will never see me again apart from in court. That’s all. I am going home to pack. Our boat leaves in a few days. I’ll see you later.”

Pomni turned and walked away. Vladimir watched his daughter go. She found her husband, pecked him surreptitiously on the cheek with a dry smile, and spoke a bit with her oldest brother-in-law and sister-in-law. He felt like screaming at her, demanding her return. But he did not say a word, simply hugging his weeping wife.

Secretly, he was impressed.

[1141520851813892291920]

I was told I should come here to tell you about a recent experience I’ve had. Something about how you’re looking for scary stories or whatever. Sure, I’ll tell you, but it’s not like it’s going to help or anything. I don’t think anyone can help me, really.

It happened last night at time of writing, so Monday night. I work as a pool cleaner (pool technician is what they call it, can’t help but roll my eyes every time I have to say it) and with the summer months rolling in, work’s been busier than usual. Everyone wants their pool chlorinated and clean, everyone wants their pool tiling redone, everyone’s looking for a special rate, etc. So many uppity folks believing they’re more important and their water should be cleaned first instead of finding another way to stay cool. Bit annoying if you ask me, but it’s a job, and I couldn’t care less what these people blow their money on

Boss sent me out to some address out in the boonies and I assumed it’d be the same ordeal as always. I show up, vacuum out all the gunk, scrub up a bit, explain basic maintenance to the customer, yadayadayada. Even being out in the middle of nowhere, you don’t really assume anything. Outside of clearly these people are loaded if they live out of the way AND they’re calling about a pool cleaning. The drive there took about half the day because they were very insistent on someone coming out that same day, and I was content with the idea of an easy day for once.

I was wrong.

Everything seemed okay upon arrival. Quaint little house a couple miles out from the nearest town, beautiful property if I’m honest. The grounds surrounding the cottage seemed to be cluttered in a bunch of water fountains and irrigation systems for a small garden the owners were tending to. All of the water sources seemed to snake back in onto themselves, seemingly entangled and intertwined, it was all rather impressive. Whoever owned this land was probably more savvy than I was about the basics of plumbing. Made me wonder for a second why they’d needed a pool cleaner, but I had a job to focus on and not much time to think about it for longer than a passing moment.

When I knocked on the door of the residence, I was met with the most breathtaking view of a gorgeous woman who’d answered the door. A real looker, made me almost envy the person who got to be with her, I’d never been charming enough to end up with someone like that. I couldn’t tell you what she looked like now, or what she sounded like, or all of what she said, but I remember her eyes. I remember that while the rest of her seemed inviting and warm, those eyes remained cold and dark, almost analytical. Scanning for something that I couldn’t quite be sure of.

She’d told me that her husband had just left for work but that the pool was in the back. She handed me the check for services, and initially I was taken aback since normally payment comes after, but it was one less thing for me to worry about. She told me I could get started and that she’d be outside after she’d changed. Wasn’t really sure what that meant at the time, but I wasn’t going to decline seeing more of her, and with a nod I started to head to the back area of the cottage where the pool was.

By far it must have been the filthiest pool I’ve ever laid eyes on. Overgrown moss, all manner of disgusting, vile muck, as if the pool itself hadn’t been cared for in years. I swore I’d seen the carcass of a less than lucky squirrel at one point, but tried not to think about it all. Popped my headphones in and started the process of vacuuming the mess out of there, and I was thankful for the drone of noise that made it impossible to think for too long. It wasn’t until I felt a tap on my shoulder that I stopped, and what I saw when I turned around wasn’t what I expected.

The wife had joined me in the backyard in what had to be one of the skimpiest swimsuits in existence. Strings that screamed at the tension they were put under, and while I tried not to look, I couldn’t help myself. If she noticed, she didn’t seem to make any mention of it, but the next words out of her mouth could have made me keel over from excitement if that were possible.

“Would you help me with some sunscreen?”

We ended up heading over to a lawn chair she’d setup and I enjoyed the feeling of her warm flesh beneath mine as I rubbed the ointment into her skin. I don’t think I would have in retrospect, but in that moment it felt like that was the only thing that mattered in the world. I remember the way she looked at me with those eyes, and how I could see myself reflected in her gaze; I remember how sure of myself she made me seem, and how good it felt to escape my own self-doubts for once. How it wasn’t so bad to be a pool technician after all if it meant I’d get to experience the joy of beautiful women like this more. How I’d be able to tell my mother to kick rocks for thinking I’d never amount to anything.

At some point, she’d requested that I undo the straps tied on her back so she could get an even tan before she could get in the pool. My stomach lurched, but I agreed, and after undoing the straps, she instructed me to go finish up while she enjoyed the view. With a newfound surge of confidence, I set to work, scrubbing away all of the disgusting bits of dirt and grime in a jiffy. Even added some extra cleaning chemicals besides the chlorine so she wouldn’t have to trouble herself with worrying about not being able to take a dip in the pool. If I had known then what I know now, I wouldn’t have been anywhere near as excited. Funny how your thoughts circle when you have time to reflect on things.

My job completed, I announced that the pool was once again open for swimming, and earned a delighted giggle in return. Something that sounded so ephemeral, as though it were not of this world, but I wished to hear it again and again. I’d started to pack up my tools and planned on enjoying the many daydreams I’d be thinking of on the way back of this scenario I’d found myself in when a sudden movement caught my eye. When I turned to look, I found her beckoning me to come closer, a smile playing on her lips while her gaze never left mine. If everything else had been a fantasy prior, her next spoken words were the cherry on top.

“Would you like to join me?”

I watched in amazement as she removed the fabric that barely covered anything and slowly walked back into the pool, her eyes fixed on me, that same come hither motion ever present. I didn’t even need time to think. Before I knew it, I was freed from my clothes and in the water beside her, and we locked into a brief moment of passion. It all felt surreal, as if it weren’t what was happening, but good. That’s when I felt the pull on my ankle. A pull that at first seemed like something I’d neglected to fish out of the pool before announcing that the waters were safe, but one that quickly became terrifying. I felt myself get pulled under, and despite how shallow the pool was, I couldn’t climb back to the surface.

I felt dozens of what felt like hands pulling me deeper and deeper down into the depths of a pool that was much too big for what I’d just cleaned. I swore I heard whispers telling me that things would be so much better if I gave in and joined them and how life could be so much more if I relished being worth something as part of their group. Sentences that still don’t make much sense to me now but they don’t become any less terrifying. I reemerged from the surface as my vision started to darken, and scrambled out of the pool back to dry land, heaving up water as I did. As I caught my breath, I heard a voice say something that made my blood run cold.

“Look. At. Me.”

When I turned back around, I found the source of the voice coming from the pool. I was met with the creeping gaze of someone who’d submerged themselves beneath the surface, only their eyes and the top of their head visible. Whoever was in the pool, it didn’t look like the woman who’d answered the door, and they began to rise from the waters that now appeared murky once again. It was a wretched, decrepit old woman, one who appeared to have become bloated and waterlogged as though they’d been submerged for far longer than the human body can handle.

I watched in horror as she began to cackle, her skin peeling away from her body as she attempted to exit the pool and head in my direction. I was frozen in place and watched as with every shift of the water, this pool began to change, and alter. Faces reflected in the ripples of the waves she was making, faces that I swore I recognized. Her eyes had locked onto me with what I swore was the same cold, dark gaze I’d felt earlier in the day. She was halfway between me and the pool when I was able to steel myself and begin running back to the car. The last words I heard echo from her still haunt me now.

“Get back into the water. Join us. Join your friends. We’re waiting for you.”

I don’t think I stopped the car again until I heard the second alarm go off warning me about low fuel. Quit my job after, I don’t need that kind of stress in my life, there are other things I can do in the meantime. Hopefully the next gig has buxom babes who aren’t completely mental. If not, I’ll be headed to the beach soon, and maybe I’ll get lucky there. Can’t say I’ll be looking to get into the water, though.

...well, I hate to say it but I am feeling physically better than I was prior to reading this statement. Though, I was perhaps remiss in...stalling on responding to this one for so long.

It stuck out to me due to the nature of the...reflection. It tastes similar to whatever has been trying to...consume? Capture? Reflect Tim.

It is a complicated situation, and one I do not yet understand completely. Reflections are...distortions of light, if viewed from a technical standpoint. But they are also imitations, unrealities of their own...there is no shortage of folklore about mirrors and reflections - do not get trapped between them, do not make eye contact with them, do not accept the invitation to step into the looking glass...

Which is to say...I am lost on this. I've come to accept that the powers of the world are...not exactly the same as the ones that I knew of Before, but are no less present. They seem to exist in their own right, though if Michael's door is anything to go by, they are still able to be influenced or at least...visited, by the familiar fears that I Know.

What do I know about the reflections so far... -They appear to feed off of...insecurity, and self doubt. -They can change their appearance (unsurprising) -They are ephemeral in nature, and do not have a fixed Place -They can communicate directly with their victims and targets. -They appear in opposition to predation and blood. I don't know if any of this will be helpful. Martin and Michael are insistent that I stay in the car while they take care of things with Tim. Oh yes, as if that is going to happen. I have more experience than both of them, at least now. That, and the poor pool boy's misfortune was a rather reinvigorating snack. I am feeling much better. Stay in the car, my arse.

[fattybattysblog]

Shelter from the Storm (Nanami/GN Reader)

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone! I am so happy to share this Xreader with everyone. Just some holding and a kiss <3 Also, I am certain this is GN. Please be kind when letting me know otherwise.

This fic is a gift for @madameredart I hope you like it <3

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You didn’t get a lot of time to yourself. Your job sapped a lot of energy, so on the few days you weren’t working you were normally recharging at home. Though, rarely, you would have energy left over to go out and enjoy yourself. Finally, one of those days had come.

You were walking along the streets of Tokyo with a bag in hand and music playing in one ear. You had visited a couple stores by now and you were sure you had the energy for a couple more before you called it a day. Treating yourself always felt pretty nice, though you knew it’d be much more enjoyable if you had a friend or someone to enjoy it with. Maybe to hold you back from your impulse purchasing a little too. You chuckled softly to yourself.

Poking around the stores and looking at all the different merchandise was enjoyable. Though, you were simply window shopping at this point. You didn’t have much room left to carry anything, let alone afford some of these things. Luckily, window shopping was just as nice.

As the day moved on, you noticed the sky growing darker. It was a bright, clear day when you started. Now the sky was sad and gray with cotton clouds and the increasing smell of petrichor. You frowned and started your trek home, searching for the nearest station. You knew you should have headed back once the clouds gathered.

You didn’t make it to the station in time. The clouds broke and rain poured down on you. You yelped as the cold water soaked your skin, holding your bags overhead to shield yourself. The downpour momentarily blinded you, making it hard to see where you should go for some shelter. Your floundering didn’t go unnoticed. A firm hand took hold of your arm and pulled you along until you were finally free of the weather. You tightly wrapped your arms around yourself and shivered, blinking away the last of the rain in your eyes and looking around for whoever aided you.

Beside you stood a tall gentleman in a tan suit. Though it appeared more brown from all of the rain that seeped into it. There was something familiar about him. His stern face, his stoic demeanor. You couldn’t name it, though. And the longer you looked in order to figure it out, the more you realized how much his wet clothes attempted to cling to him.

He pushed his blond hair out of his face and met your lingering gaze. When he raised his brow you realized that you had been staring too long. Heat reached your cheeks and you averted your gaze, picking your ear bud out of your ear and snapping it back into its charging case

“Thanks.” You said, keeping your eyes away.

He didn’t respond. Seemingly waiting for something. But you simply wrapped your arms around yourself and watched the rain. It fell in a misty curtain. The thick clouds growing darker still. Then a roll of thunder rumbled through the sky.

“Eeesh…”

“The storm won’t let up for at least a few hours.” The man stated simply. You sagged your shoulders.

“That figures…”

That voice sparked some recognition in you, looking him over once more and tilting your head.

“…Is your name Kento by any chance? Kento Nanami?”

“It is,” he nodded, “I was beginning to believe you had forgotten me.” You shook your head with a nervous laugh. You had forgotten. But only momentarily.

You had actually thought of Nanami more than a few times over the separation. Not only him, but your other classmates as well. Gojo was a little easier to keep contact with, you just followed his Instagram and he was always updating it. Ieiri would call you on occasion to catch up. But Nanami was hard to contact. You assumed he didn’t want to be found.

Yet now he was standing beside you after whisking you out of the storm. Even outside of high school, he never stopped being somber and formal, it seemed. A smile pricked at the corners of your mouth. You always liked that about him. 

The two of you stood sheltered from the relentless rain and a mix of emotions filled you. It had been years since you last saw Nanami. You couldn't help but feel a bit guilty for letting so much time pass without reaching out. Once you got your job, time became a melting blur that was difficult to decipher.

“Sorry I never reached out. I tried to, but I didn’t want to pester you.” You scratched the back of your head. Nanami’s expression was unreadable and he waved your apology off with a nonchalant hand.

“No need for apologies.”

“Well, then, how have you been?” You asked as you drifted your sight over the area. You had been walking for so long today, a moment off of your feet would be great. But there was nowhere to sit and leaning on the wall would barely help the growing ache in your legs at this point.

“Busy. As usual. I was on my way to meet with someone.” He said. 

“Ah. I’ve been busy too. Finally had a day to myself,” you lifted your bags to show him, “too bad the rain is keeping you from work. I know you hate distractions and such.”

Nanami went quiet for a moment, looking down at you as you searched for someplace to sit and wrapped your arms around yourself to brace against the cold that seeped into your bones. You held yourself and shivered. Your clothes clung to your curves, your deliciously full figure catching his eye and making it hard to look away.

“Some distractions are fine.” Nanami’s expression softened towards you. You felt heat rise to your cheeks and you nervously giggled. The rain showed no sign of letting up anytime soon, but a short hop away was a nice, warm, cozy looking coffee shop. A bit full since every one was avoiding the weather, but hopefully better than staying outside.

You pointed to it and hiked one of your bags up on your shoulder.

“Hey, want to get a coffee and catch up? We can make a quick sprint over there.”

“They seem a bit crowded,” he hummed, “but that sounds like a good idea. Maybe we could stop at my place instead, dry off, etc.”

“Wh— uh… don’t you have someone you needed to meet with?” You asked, fixing your hair and feeling the terrible heat burning your face.

“He can wait. I’ve wanted to see you for years.”

You blinked in surprise at him, tightening your hold on yourself. His eyes flickered down at your shivering body, lingering a moment before returning to your gaze.

"We should get going. You're shaking."

---- ----

The rain pattered on the windows as you sat on Nanami's couch, a thick blanket wrapped around you and Nanami away in the kitchen preparing coffee. You were thankful for the respite from the weather and standing. You hadn't realized how much your legs ached until you finally got to give them a break. You breathed a sigh and nestled into the couch. It was so comfortable, you were so close to falling asleep.

"You can turn something on if you're bored." Nanami chimed, startling you. You lifted your head and wondered if you should before laying back down and humming lazily.

"It's alright. If we get too comfortable you'll probably get reprimanded later."

"Don't worry about that," he sat beside you and set the mugs of coffee on the coffee table, "It's past 5. It will wait." He leaned back. At some point he changed into dry clothes. Simple slacks and a casual long sleeved shirt. He definitely wasn't planning on heading out again. You wiggled yourself out of the blanket and grabbed your mug, blowing over the drink and dispersing the steam rising in your vision.

"You're pretty hard to find, you know. If we hadn't run into each other, we might never have seen each other again." You said, looking at your reflection in the dark liquid.

"We always had a friend connecting us. I assumed one of them would give you my number." He said, folding his arms. You slanted your mouth and looked aside. Hindsight and all that. You probably should have asked one of them. You felt silly about it now.

"At least fate let us meet up." You laughed faintly. You pulled the blanket tighter around you, shivering slightly. You were almost jealous that he could change into dry clothes. You hated the way the fabric stuck to your skin. And you were beginning to feel bad that you were getting one of his blankets wet. But he offered it to you, so it couldn't be unexpected.

"Are you still cold?" He asked, breaking you from your thoughts. He must have noticed the discomfort on your face.

"Kind of. I wish I had something to change into." You watched the steam finally peter out and enjoyed the mild, nutty taste of the brew.

"I don't have anything to lend you." He stated. You nodded. You were a bit thicker than he was, it would be hard to use any of his clothes. But he had thought of something else. Once you were done with your drink momentarily, setting it back on the table, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his lap. You squeaked with surprise, hiding your face in the blanket as you were settled into his warm embrace.

It was a nice and firm hold. Ensuring you sat comfortably, leaning against his chest. You were stiff, nervous. But the radiating warmth made it hard to remain still.

"You can relax." He said. You could hear the faintest notes of amusement in his voice.

"You sure? I'm not... too heavy or something?"

"Of course not." He shook his head. You pursed your lips and reluctantly rested your head on his shoulder. You slowly let yourself relax, turning slightly into him, one hand resting on his chest and the other tugging on the blanket.

The room was quiet. Just both of your breathing and the patter of rain on the window. You kind of regretted not turning on the TV. Not that the quiet and the calm wasn't nice. It just made you feel awkward.

"You know... I've thought about you holding me a lot in school." You muttered.

"Is that so?"

"What? Is that weird to admit?"

"I've thought of holding you a few times too." He admitted, his voice soft and low. You smiled and rubbed your arm nervously. He brought a hand up to caress your cheek, his touch ghosting your skin.

"Really?"

"Mhm... I'm glad we ran into each other. I don't want to miss this chance." His voice was a sweet hum that graced your ears. You shivered a little and he tightened the embrace. Your eyes flickered from his gaze to his lips and back again. You could feel your body warming up greatly.

"T-this chance?" You asked softly. He gently took your chin, lifting your face. His eyes half lidded and glittering with want as he leaned in close to you.

"May I kiss you?" He whispered. You swallowed. You weren't expecting him to be so close. Nor were you expecting him to ask that. You took a deep breath, not realizing that you were forgetting to breathe.

"Y... Yes."

Nanami pulled you in, pressing his lips against yours. There was a spark that ran through you once your lips touched. The feeling made you flinch and grip his shirt. Nanami hugged you tightly against him, pulling away slowly before going in with more force and fervor. His hand on your cheek trailing down the side of your neck and resting on your nape. You took his shirt in each hand, gripping him like you might float away. It took you both some effort to pull apart again.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't hoping to kiss him one day. For it to be so soon surprised you.

"That was nice." You smiled, a little awkward.

"It was," he chuckled, holding you by your back and your thigh, "it'll be a while before the storm passes."

"Then it's a good thing we'll be staying warm together." You smiled, relaxing into his shoulder once more. This was the best day to have a storm. It interrupted your plans, but what it led to was so much better. Safe inside with Nanami, wrapped in his embrace.

[cup-half-full-of-anxiety]

Neon Hearts - Chapter One

This is just a teaser to see if anyone would be interested. I've had this story rolling around in my head for a while and now I am giving it a go.

Eddie Munson x Oc Reader Story Summary: In 1996, Hollywood's "it girl," Lettie, moves in next door to rockstar Eddie Munson. After discovering her cheating ex, Lettie finds solace in Eddie's unexpected kindness. As their bond deepens, they navigate fame, love, and personal demons, discovering unexpected connections and a shared journey of healing. Warning: Infidelity, emotional abuse, toxic relationships, trauma, drinking, smoking. No use of y/n. Warning will be chapter-to-chapter based.

Chapter One - The Meet

June 15, 1996 The air crackled with tension as Lettie stood in the dimly lit living room, her fists clenched at her sides as she confronted her soon-to-be ex-boyfriend, Craig. The weight of his betrayal hung heavy in the air, a bitter taste lingering on her tongue as she struggled to contain the storm of emotions raging within her. "You lying bastard!" she spat, her voice laced with venom as she glared at him with tear-filled eyes. "How could you do this to me?" Craig's expression remained infuriatingly calm, his handsome features twisted into a smirk of indifference as he shrugged nonchalantly. "It was just a mistake, babe," he replied, his voice dripping with insincerity.  "You know I love you. It won't happen again." But Lettie wasn't buying it—not for a second. She had heard the whispers, seen the knowing glances exchanged between his friends and even some of her own. And now, confronted with the undeniable truth, she refused to let him gaslight her into believing his lies anymore.  He had already made her look like a fool.

"You expect me to believe that?" she scoffed, her voice rising in disbelief. "You've been cheating on me for nine months, Craig! With multiple women!" His smirk faltered for a moment, replaced by a flash of irritation as he took a step forward, invading her personal space with a menacing glare. "So what if I did?" he shot back, his tone turning vulgar as he lashed out with cutting words. "You're gonna leave me? And what? Find someone else who will put up with your shit" He was towering over her now. "Who even wants a broken person like you, huh? You'll burn out and become a nobody D-list actress that everyone will forget!" “Fuck you!”  Bathed in the soft glow of his porch lights, Eddie's attention had been pulled from the guitar in his hand to his neighbor, whom he still had yet to meet since returning from tour. He couldn’t hear much of the conversation, just a few words here and there spoken loudly in anger in what he could only assume was her kitchen if her layout was any similar to his own home. He listened as her voice rose, as she confronted the man before her. Eddie’s guitar was long forgotten on the bench next to him. "I'd rather be a nobody and alone than be with someone like you!" she spat, her voice trembling with anger as she seized a nearby vase of flowers—flowers he ironically sent her just the other day with a note professing his love, hurling it across the room with a resounding crash that echoed through the very open windows. Eddie jumped from his spot at the sound. “Get the fuck out!” Her voice carried once more, her fury palpable. “I don’t want to see you-” her voice cut off as Eddie watched the man whose back was to him; Craig cautiously approached the woman, hands raised like he was approaching a timid wild animal. He couldn’t hear what the man was saying but it was clear it did the opposite of whatever Craig was hoping for. He watched as the woman took a step back and slapped the man clean across the face, the echo almost as loud as the shattering glass. She followed it up by pulling what Eddie assumed was a ring off her finger and throwing it at him. “I said GET OUT!”  Eddie couldn’t help but keep watching, Normally, he was the one confronted by a raging woman, accusing him of infidelity. It was a strange relief to be on the outside looking in for once. “Go back to whatever slut you’re fucking this week!” Eddie winced at the revelation, that detail not having reached his ears on the breeze. Perhaps Craig deserved that slap. He lost sight of them as they moved through the house, a few moments later he heard a “Go!” followed by a door slam. Not long after, a screeching car could be heard speeding away before his neighbor reappeared in his line of sight.  He lit a cigarette, observing her staring at the spot where the vase had landed. He briefly considered offering to help clean up the mess but hesitated, not wanting her to realize he had overheard their tumultuous encounter. Instead, he turned back to his quiet night. His guitar beckoned him away from the window, diverting his attention from the somewhat voyeuristic act of watching his neighbor tidy up the debris.

Just a teaser so please let me know what you think!

[timaeusterrored]

Badland Dancing

This is what happens when you let gay people do anything

Anyway,COLLAB TIME WITH @arczism AND SHE MADE ART FOR THIS AND LET ME TALK HER EAR OFF ABOUT IT AND INSPIRED MOST OF IT SO GO LOOK AT THE ART FOR IT

Dating V meant a lot of things. Sometimes it meant 2am clean ups when he went on jobs and didn’t go straight to Vik, sometimes it meant not seeing him for two days and getting spoiled when he got back as an apology, and it also meant trips to the Badlands.. Not the ideal date or vacation but Kerry endured it regardless.

V would get him all dressed in head to toe gear, which normally turned into jokes about how long it was gonna take him to get Kerry out of it that night, but also it smelled like V and Kerry loved it. He stole his clothes as disguises anyway, but maybe it was also a tad bit of Kerry’s possessive side coming out, letting people know he was V’s and V was his.

Despite it all though, Kerry did like sitting around the campfire. A guitar would get put in his hands and he’d strum away with V leaned on him while he played. After everything they had gone through, Kerry was glad V was finally letting him into his world. With the promise of a forever at the tips of their tongues.

The Aldecadlos almost never seemed to believe Kerry would be coming, because what rock star would wanna hang out in the Badlands? None, and even now with nearly a full year under their belt of being together, Kerry had only ever been a few times. He couldn’t stand being away from V for long, and according to the nomads, V couldn’t stand it either. They’d tease him around the campfire about how he’d moan and groan about missing Kerry.

Kerry wandered out of their tent after V had set it up to find him and Panam setting up the campfire. He watched from afar, watching V’s shoulders and back shift as he lifted wood and dropped it. The sun was going down now, and it had finally cooled a bit. And much to everyone’s delight, Kerry had promised a song or two by the fire.

By the time the fire was ready, Panam and Kerry had settled next to each other to let V finish the work, which resulted in a lot of teasing from Panam about how V was such a good worker and such, V just rolled his eyes as he started the fire and people started to settle around it in exhaustion. A guitar was handed to Kerry as promised, V requesting the boat song. That’s how Kerry knew these people were special, special enough to have V wanting them to hear that.

The night went on, jokes and drinks and stories passed around, until the subject of dancing came up. “I’m assuming Mr. Rockstar knows how to dance?” Panam asked, a bit starstruck every time she looked at Kerry. Kerry just laughed and nodded. “I know how to do a lot, tango, slow dancing,” he nudged V teasingly, then noticed a look.

“What? Your man can slow dance but you can’t?” Panam asked, meaning it teasingly but V shrugged. “Nope.”

“Wait wait wait, we’ve been together how long? And you never told me you can’t dance?” Kerry asked, acting as if that would ever come up. V just shrugged again. “Wasn’t a skill I needed growing up, don’t need to know how slowdance on the streets.” Kerry frowned a bit, then stood.

“Come on,” He held out his hands for his partner to take, earring a raised eyebrow. “What?” V laughed, not moving.

“I’m gonna teach you how to slow dance.” Kerry said simply, pulling V up like he was nothing. Okay V may have started to get up by that point but no one needed to know that. Kerry knew a lot of basic things in his day to day life is what V would consider a luxury. Hell waking up in a bed and a roof over their heads V considered luxurious.

“Now?” V asked softly, and Kerry just smiled, nodding. He was 90 years old, his shame died with Johnny about 51 years ago. He’s done and seen more embarrassing things than a Merc who can’t dance in front of his friends. And besides, V looked amazing by the fire, the glow in his eyes and how it reflected off of his face and lit up his hair enough to show the red in it. How could he not want to show his love that didn’t involve taking his clothes off right here… now that was an idea- Kerry no. Focus.

Kerry showed him the correct places to put his hands, talking him through it. He was distantly aware of the guitar being strummed to a slow beat that Kerry could work with. V looked so lost in what he was doing, but it was cute. And Kerry fell in love a bit more with him every single day. Especially when V was looking at him with the same look he himself gave someone that never returned it. It took a while, but he found someone that looked at him the same way.

The dance was clumsy, Kerry unable to keep his laughter back watching the big bad Merc stumble over his own two feet. Panam had moved to give them more space, and to probably save her own ass if V ended up falling, smart girl, Kerry would give her that.

“Ker, I’m gonna step on your feet-“ V whispered, more focused on his mainline than the world around them.

“Baby you’re doin’ just fine, relax a little. Besides, these boots were made to be roughed up. They’re your boots anyway.” Kerry teased, tilting his head up to make V look at him. “There ya go, see? Just focus on me and you’ll fall into step with me okay?” He said, V nodded a bit. He was touched that V was worried about stepping on his toes though.

“You dance about as well as an infant.” Kerry teased, making V laugh a bit. “Like I said, no need for dancing on the streets..”

“You aren’t on the streets anymore, baby. You’re all mine now..” Kerry whispered before leaning up for a kiss, both pulling back in surprise when there were whistles and catcalling from the nomads. Kerry had forgotten they were there and what he had been doing in the first place.

He smiled innocently up at V, which earned a genuine smile back, before Kerry suddenly dipped him. His merc gripped onto his shoulder with a gasp of surprise and laughter from the group around him. V gasped out a curse before Kerry sealed their lips again. Kerry felt V smiling against his lips, cupping his face.

The Aldecadlos cheered around them, Kerry doing a little bow before sitting back down again, then grunted when V flopped into his lap and laid on his chest. He kissed his temple and wrapped his arms around him, gently patting his chest. He would have laughed in your face if you had told him he’d be hanging out in the Badlands with his merc boyfriend right now, but he wouldn’t change this for the damn world.

He knew his phone was probably being blown up right now, and when they got back he’d be bombarded with questions on where they hell he had been, and why he hadn’t answered. He’d worry about it when they got back to the city, right now his focus was on the man leaned against him.

V gently moved his head up to whisper in Kerry’s ear, reaching up to take one of his hands innocently.

“You ever heard of the devil’s tango?”

Kerry grinned.

“Heard of it, baby I invented it.”

“You wanna teach me?” V asked, and when Kerry pulled back to look down at him, V was giving him the most innocent look for a man that just suggested such a thing.

“Absolutely.”

[rlyc00l]

Decepti0n, Chapter 3 on Fanfiction.net

(For some reason tumblr won't let me link to fanfiction.net the normal way anymore? WELP)

Zer0's an ass, Rhys's entire life is ruined forever, Rhys maybe has a virus, Rhys almost dies again—but hey, he does do one kind of cool thing.

EDIT: Chapter is also under the break :)

———— “Look, I appreciate the extra sleep,” Maya said. Her hair was tousled, she combed it out as she spoke. “But we agreed you’d take first watch and then wake me up.”  

“I didn’t need to.” Zer0 had their storage deck holoscreen up. They scrolled through their guns rather than face Maya. Rhys couldn’t help but notice they had two pistols besides the one they’d stolen from him. “I kept watch throughout the night. / And nothing attacked.” 

“That’s beside the point. We need everyone rested. If Jack figured out that we survived, he might send another ambush–” 

“I require less sleep.” They closed the holoscreen. Unlike the others, they had no camp to pack up, and they’d declined breakfast. The fact they hadn’t gone on alone put their air of self-assurance in question, at least in Rhys’s eyes. “And I am more observant / Than the rest of you.” 

The measured smile on Maya’s face fell. “You understand why I can’t take your word for that?”  “Yeah, I like to think I’m pretty damn observant,” Axton put in as he rolled up his bedroll. “Though, I don’t mind sleeping through the night, thanks, Zer0.” 

“The point is, if we’re going to work as a team, we need to communicate better,” she said.   “I’m not on your team. / We’re traveling the same way. / For the time being.” 

“If that’s the case, why stick around?” 

“Because I need that,” They pointed to the Claptrap, “If I want off this glacier. / Or so I’ve been told.” 

“Then work with us! We have the same goal.” A light went through her tattoos. Rhys was getting the sense that this wasn’t the first time they’d butted heads. He hadn’t paid much mind to the other bandit’s interactions, having assumed they were all in this together from the start. 

“You wanted guarding. / I guarded. What’s the problem? / You are still alive.” 

Whatever Maya was about to say was drowned out by her ECHO device. 

“Hey, kiddos.” The voice was unmistakable. Rhys straightened up on instinct. “Jack here–President of Hyperion. Lemme explain how things work here: Vault Hunters show up. Vault Hunters look for the new Vault. Vault Hunters get killed. By me. You seeing the problem here? You’re still alive. So, if you—hold on, wait, wait wait wait, do you seriously have one of my employees with you? How the hell’d he get down there?” 

And that was it. Rhys was completely, one hundred percent, ruined. He’d be branded a traitor, he could never return to Helios, and if Pandora didn’t kill him, Handsome Jack would.

“Well, okay. Rhys Strongfork. From Security Propaganda? That’s weird.” Jack laughed. “Rogue employee going Vault hunter? That’s a new one. Let me know how it turns out. Anyway, I was gonna just tell you all to kill yourselves but, Rhysie? I really wanna see what happens to a traitorous little code monkey on Pandora.” The comm ended with a click. 

The others were all looking at him. He tried to put on a brave face, cracking a smile. “So uh, we’re definitely killing that guy, yeah?” 

Dunno if it’s a ‘we’, Strongfork.” Axton clapped Rhys on the back. “But hey, I’ll give you front-row seats to my badass Jack kill.” 

Rhys shot him a glare, even as he tried to work out a way to convince Jack he was only a prisoner. Would Jack accept that lie, even if he believed it? The man wasn’t known for tolerating failure. 

“He’ll die by my blade,” Zer0 said simply. An “uwu” projected from their visor. 

“No! I will crack the fingers in my teeth!” Krieg twitched as he yelled, smacking the side of his head a few times. 

“If any of us are going to kill Jack, we need to get off this glacier first,” Maya said before anyone else could make their claim. “I suggest we get moving.” 

She’d apparently taken up leadership of the group, and the others accepted that, aside from Zer0. With a few final preparations, they were on the road again. 

It was still freezing, of course, and Rhys was more sore than he’d ever been in his life, but the walking had become easier. They’d moved past the deeper, loose snow. Now Rhys’s feet only went two inches through the icy crust. And the sun was out. None of that made Rhys any happier about his current situation, but at least it wasn’t worse. 

He tried to ignore the sound of Gaige taking long strides to catch up with him as he walked. Maybe if he didn’t look at her, she wouldn’t try to talk to him. She could not possibly have anything good to say. 

His efforts failed. “So, Jack didn’t set you up to be killed, huh?” 

“What?” 

“Before you were all ‘Jack tried to blow me up! I was subtly undermining Jack! He didn’t want to martyr me!’” She did a voice that must have meant to be Rhys’s, but did not remotely sound like him. “But obviously, Jack didn’t know you were here until, like, literally just now. So?”

Was he being interrogated? “You hear the part where he called me a ‘traitorous code monkey’?”

“Yeah, but like, did you actually do anything cool? Try to smash the system?” 

“I did what I said I did,” Rhys snapped. It was suddenly very important to him that this teenager thought he was cool and not a liar. “Maybe Jack–Maybe he didn’t personally set that up for me, but someone up there wanted me dead for it. There–there’s an entire organizational hierarchy up there, Jack doesn’t handle everything himself.” “Fine, geez. I was just wondering…”

“Well, I’m glad to appease your curiosity, or whatever.” He noticed her eyeing his right arm. “Can I help you with anything else?” “Nope. I’m good.” Gaige said, looking down at her own cybernetic arm like she was comparing the two. It was a good thing hers was on the left, he would not put it past bandits to steal a man’s arm. Of course, maybe he was still in some danger from her. She had to be unstable, to end up here. 

He was about to ask her to stop staring at him like a piece of machinery when a sharp pain struck him. His ECHOeye port seemed to explode into little needles as his vision blurred and flickered. He let out a cry. A dark-haired, pale young woman appeared in front of him, just for an instant, and he fell. Distantly, he heard Salvador’s “I think Hyperion guy died.” before things went dark.  

The next thing Rhys was aware of was snow moving rhythmically below him as he passed over it. Someone’s hand grasped his forearm, another on the back of his thigh. He was being carried, he realized. Groaning, he lifted his head. He made brief eye contact with Salvador, who laughed, shaking his head. “Hey, Axton, the princess is up.” 

“Wha…?” Rhys blinked, rubbing his head. The pain from before had turned into a soft ache. “Let…Let me down…” 

“You gonna pass out again?” Axton asked. 

“No? I don’t think so?” 

Axton slid him off his shoulders and onto the ground. He felt dizzy, but got his bearings after a few stumbled steps. 

“What happened?” He asked. For a second time, he was being stared at. He caught Zer0, once again far from the others, watching him with a “LOL” projected from their helm.

“You went all twitchy and blinky and then fainted.” It was Gaige who answered. 

“Real elegant pose too, ass straight up in the air.” Axton grinned. 

“Great to know, thanks.” At least they hadn’t left him behind. They weren’t complete savages. 

He brought his hand up to his ECHOport, half expecting it to be bleeding or loose. Nothing out of place. Both eyes were functioning. His right arm moved as well as the left. He seemed okay, aside from the residual soreness from yesterday’s bullymong attack. 

Surreptitiously, he felt for his wallet. It was still in his front pocket, only thinner than it had been. Yep, that’s about what he’d expect. Fair enough. Only later, once they started moving again, did he get some real concern, from Maya. “Is something broken? I’m…Inexperienced with cybernetics, but I imagine they were the cause. Your eye was blinking.”

“I must have hit my head harder than I realized, knocked a part loose? It…It should be fine.” He had no idea if that was true, but you weren’t supposed to show weakness around these types, a rule he’d already broken too many times. Maya might seem reasonable, but there had to be a good reason Jack wanted her dead. “I can fix it, once we get somewhere with a mirror and some tools.” He didn’t relish the thought of poking around in his own head. Maybe it was one of those one-off things, some sort of glitch that he wouldn’t run into again. Maybe he could ignore it. 

“Gaige seems to be an experienced mechanic. You could ask her for help.” 

Rhys just looked at her. 

She shrugged. “Understandable. Still, try not to faint again, if possible. Claptrap’s claiming that Knuckle Dragger’s lair isn’t much further. Supposedly, he leads a sizable pack.”

————

They came to the lair nearly an hour later. It was up on a short ridge. The only way up was through a misaimed moonshot shipping container, both ends opened. 

Rhys let the Claptrap and Vault hunters go ahead of him. He knew he’d be useless in this fight, or worse, an outright burden. Better to stand around down here until the shooting ended. 

The Claptrap started screaming immediately, and the first shots were fired. He heard roaring, more cries from the Claptrap, something large slamming into the earth. Strangely, this was starting to feel routine. 

He leaned back against the side of the container and activated his arm’s holographic interface. Should he take this chance to shoot a message to Vaughn and Yvette, let them know he wasn’t dead, or would communicating with them implicate them as traitors? Best not to risk it. There were rumors of Jack airlocking an entire R&D team when he suspected one of betraying him. 

Still, it was strange, even if they’d thought Rhys had died down here, wouldn’t they at least think to ECHO him? Unless something had happened… Vasquez wouldn’t try to off them, too, would he? His throat got tight, thinking about it. 

Something landed on the shipping container above him with a heavy clunk. He looked up to find a bullymong staring back down at him. It was four times the size of the others he’d seen. Fresh bullet wounds covered its pelt. It wore a glowing blue sphere around its neck.

Nearby, he could still hear shooting. 

Slowly, he turned to face it. Just stay calm. Back away. Don’t do anything to upset it. It’ll be more interested in the people who shot it. He grabbed the stun rod, not taking his eyes off of it. 

It was staring at the glow of the hand interface. He deactivated it. Wrong move, the bullymong—Knuckle Dragger, he realized—roared and leapt at him. Scampering to the side, he jabbed out at it, just like last time. Unlike last time, this one swiped the rod out of his grasp, sending it flying.

Rhys turned and ran. 

Knuckle Dragger followed.

He sprinted in a wide circle, bullymong close behind. There was no way he’d outrun it for long. His only chance was the shipping container. Knuckle Dragger was too large to fit through the opening. 

With every stride he was sure he’d be caught, up until he finally leapt into the container. He slipped on the icy metal, fell forward, and felt himself being pulled back out. The bullymong had his shoe. Yelping, Rhys wriggled his foot free. He dragged himself out of reach, into the open on the other side.  

Chaos lay before him. He couldn’t begin to count the bullymong, alive or dead. A sharp-clawed robot—Gaige’s, he realized—raked open one’s chest a few feet in front of him. Somewhere, Salvador was yelling incomprehensibly. Axton was reloading his gun, covered by a turret next to him. He thought he saw Krieg dash past as he got to his feet.  “Help?!” he heard himself cry, to no response. The crate behind him echoed as the bullymong climbed over it. Rhys did the only thing he could think to do: he darted straight through the battlefield, hoping Knuckle Dragger would turn its attention to someone else. 

It didn’t. And once again it was closing in. He came to a sheer ice wall with the thing bearing down on him. To his left was a large pile of remains: an assortment of bone, cloth, and metal. He grabbed at a piece of metal in desperation, pulling it free. It was the twisted remains of a Jakobs rifle. A crude blade was affixed to one end. 

He dodged a blow from the bullymong’s massive fist–and blindly thrust upward with all of his strength. 

The bayonet passed between the detached lower mandibles and stuck fast in the roof of its mouth. Knuckle Dragger pulled away with a choked cry, yanking the makeshift spear out of Rhys’s grasp. Blood flowed down the blade, spattering the ice beneath it. Enraged, it reared up, fists balled. 

Rhys shielded himself against a blow that never came. 

Instead, there was a pitiful groan. Knuckle Dragger stumbled, swayed a little, and fell forward, narrowly missing Rhys. 

 Perched on its back was Zer0, their sword buried between its shoulder blades. They freed their blade, hopped off, and yanked the makeshift Claptrap eye necklace from Knuckle Dragger’s neck. 

“I…Erm…I…” Rhys stammered out, his heart still pounding in his chest. 

They glanced at him, drew a pistol from their digi-holster, and tossed it to him. He fumbled as he caught it. Zer0 was gone again by the time he recognized the gun.  

[anime-kia]

Sleeping Beauty (Part 2)

Omg! Yes it is finally here! 2 years later I present to you, part 2 to Sleeping Beauty! I'm actually so excited for this, it took me so long, but I feel like I'm prepared to write it and keep the style that I started with. So enjoy!

Warnings: Violence, Smut

Relationship: Soulmates - King Erik x Reader

Weeks passed since Erik's last encounter with your dormant frame. He was tense, pacing around the throne room with heavy steps. The Dora, tribe leaders and servants watched him quietly as he dominated the room with his vexed aura.

It's not that he didn't succeed in his plan to embed spies in every nation and distribute vibranium across the globe. It was that pesky panther nagging at him in his dreams every single night.

She appeared to him in the ancestral plane, perched on a tree. Erik stood below, dressed in nothing, but his gold fanged necklace.

N'Jadaka, why are you so hesitant?

Fari was her name.

"What you talkin' about?" He regarded her with no respect, the irritation laced in his tone.

Have we not guided you enough?

We... The ancestors? Erik assumed.

"Guided me?"

You are intelligent, N'Jadaka. Whether you choose to use your cleverness or not, it is up to you. The she-panther leaped off of the tree and circled around the man.

He watched her with his eyes, never moving from his place in the tall grass.

Listen to your heart.

Erik's eyes narrowed at Fari.

Ever since coming to Wakanda, Erik felt as though everyone was treating him like he was a naive child. Constantly they would give him cliché advice or try to alter his well-thought out plans. Erik knew what he was doing, he didn't need anyones outside opinions.

Just mere hours ago, he had awoken from his slumber. Heavy eyes and a cloudy mind. Erik felt ill despite the heart-shaped herbs enhancing abilities, but a weak mind makes a weak man.

In his previous dream, Fari mentioned that he appeared smaller as if the large man had lost mass.

Though he didn't want to admit it, his clothing fitting him loosely was more than enough proof. Even his weight lifting seemed more rigid than normal.

This ailment only began to occur since he stopped visiting you.

Erik decided to visit the king's personal doctor.

"My king, this is not much of a physical problem." She explained, shifting a braid behind her small ear. "Nor is it something I can fix."

His dark eyes narrowed at her, as he did to the she-panther.

"Ain't that your job?" Erik gibed at the doe-eyed doctor.

Ignoring him, she proceeds, "Have you been to the ancestral plane lately?" He only nods hesitantly. "Then that means you are near your soulmate and you must find her quickly."

"Or?"

"Or you both will perish." She explained in a soft tone, avoiding his eyes.

He couldn't believe his ears. The king wanted to think she was fooling him, as was the servant girl, Anathi. But as he could feel himself grow more weak, choices were limited in believing what was true or false.

"Who am I?" Erik asked the members of the room. His pacing stopped, back facing them.

The princess was not there to list every one of his titles as she did on their first encounter.

"Hm?" He turned around, arms crossed over his scarred chest.

Everyone was afraid to speak up, expecting him to lash out as he'd usually do.

"You are the king." W'Kabi spoke up proudly, his wife eyeing him callously.

He chuckled, "Then why do I feel like y'all still not getting it? I ask questions and I get bullshit responses."

"My king, we are being very honest with you." Anathi had voiced.

"Lying would be pointless and would not benefit anyone." An elder added.

"Y'all keep giving me the runaround. I ask about that girl, and you're telling me shit about a fairy tail?" The volume of his voice grew.

Some of the members had rolled their eyes in secrecy.

It always came down to the sleeping girl. Maybe it was time they encouraged him to see if he was the real connection.

"Would you like to try and awaken her, King N'Jadaka?" One of the elders suggested.

Okoye almost stepped out of line to dismiss the proposal, silencing herself as she realized that sacrificing her position in protecting Wakanda would've been a grave mistake.

She had made a promise to T'Challa prior to his battle, that no matter what, he could entrust her to protect you regardless of his outcome. But what could she really do now?

Besides, a man like him could never be the one for you.

Why are you still hesitating, N'Jadaka? Fari had questioned him again in his slumber. What is it that is holding you back?

"If I knew I would tell you." He frowned at her.

You have always been a man of action.

"You don't know nothing about me."

I know a lot more than you think, Young Prince.

"I'm not a prince, I'm a king."

Oh?

The panther appeared much taller than him, as did the tall grass. Her golden eyes shined brightly, rivalling the moon.

Erik looked onto himself, a much smaller frame appearing before his very eyes.

"What did you-" He held his neck, shocked at the pre-pubescent voice that came from his throat.

It is not what I did, N'Jadaka. She leaped back into the tree, resting her head onto her paws. Time is ticking, Young Prince.

Erik rose out of his sleep in a cold sweat, glancing into the mirror to check that he wasn't the eight-year old boy from Oakland, but the man who he grew to be.

The bathroom tile was cold underneath his bare feet, but the hot water soothed his tense muscles. Fari's words ran through his mind as the water cascaded down his large frame.

He shook his head and chucked, intentionally she had called him a child without words.

Sneaky panther...

"I ain't a fuckin' kid no more." Erik silently spoke to himself.

Erik waltzed into the garden where the heart-shaped herb once grew, now replaced with other greens and flowers. Anathi was tending to a patch of peace lilies along side her grandmother.

"Yo." He called out, their attention turning onto him.

Anathi raised from her dirtied knees, dusting them off. "My King?"

"Follow me." Erik commanded, turning on heel his immediately. I hope you're watching me now, Fari.

The young girl's feet shuffled quickly towards the king, not wanting to anger him as he'd been so tense lately.

The walk was silent, she carefully watched Erik in case he were to try anything. Their strolls usually consisted of him nagging her, but this time he remained silent, dark eyes focused on the corridor ahead of him.

She couldn't be at ease because it felt as though he was still on guard, but he hadn't even glanced at the girl since leaving the garden.

Anathi had recognized the path he'd taken, one that lead to the room located underneath the sunroof.

His hands rested on the handles, pausing before looking over his shoulder. "You said a kiss should work, right?"

"Y-yes, your highness." She nodded, hands clasped together.

"You do realize what'll happen if it fails." He threatened with a low voice, almost a snarl.

Anathi bit her lower lip before nodding once again, "Y-yes."

An amused sound silently came from his throat before pulling on the golden handles. It was always like a fresh of breath air once the doors opened. The air was so pure, feeling like a hug to his nostrils when he inhaled.

As Erik approached, his eyes fell onto your frame, too appearing smaller and slightly frail. This time, the palace servants had your curls styled into flat twists, pinned up into a bun. One of their daughters had crafted a flower crown and laid it around your head.

Anathi had remained outside, planning on her escape. This could be her chance to have a possible head start in case all failed.

Erik gently ran the back of his hand down your face, the beating in his heart increased, and that nagging feeling that he would compare to a raging sea became calm.

This would finally be the moment of truth...

His deft fingers lifted your chin, bringing your lips closer to his until they had finally touched together.

It felt... like... nothing?

Not exactly sure why, but Erik had expected a feeling of electricity to shoot through his body. He had expected his soulmate to spring awake, deepening the kiss to solidify the truth. But this was real life, not a damn fairy tail.

It wasn't magical nor did it feel like anything truly happened. Your body still felt lifeless, but the beating of your heart indicated otherwise. Not even a little sound indicating that you were soon going to awaken was given to him.

What Erik wanted, Erik never got.

That made the man very angry. He slowly released and departed from you, fiery eyes looking onto Anathi whose knees were visibly shaking.

It didn't work...

The only three words replaying through his head as he aggressively approached the servant girl, fingers digging into her shoulder. She silently winced, wishing that she had ran as she had planned earlier.

They must take me for a joke.

He summoned another meeting calling everyone in.

You want something to laugh at, oh imma fuckin' give it to y'all.

By time they had arrived to the throne room, all members were there, silently watching as he dragged the girl and tossed her to the centre of the floor.

Her grandmother helplessly watched, fearing for her grandchild's life.

"Y'all like to tell lies, huh? That apart of Wakandan culture?" He accused, arms folded over his chest. "Hm? You like to make niggas look like idiots?"

The members were quiet, uncertain of what had happened.

"She still asleep!" Erik shouted loudly, some of the members had jolted.

"M-my king, we did not say that you were the chosen one." A woman from the river tribe reasoned. "Only the one who is the chosen shall know."

Erik's eyes cut sharply onto the woman, "What?" He seethed.

Her hands squeezed onto the man beside her, as the look in his eyes were terrifying.

This pent up rage was both confusing and extremely concerning to everyone. This woman he had never met before had driven his emotions through the roof, even more so than T'Challa had done.

Calm down, N'Jadaka. Fari counselled in his mind.

The king was terribly angry. I'll show you calm.

"I think we need some new rules." He declared, nodding. "A lie for a life? I think that's fair."

Still silent, the members had looks of disapproval. Not that Erik was looking for an outside opinion, he was sick of being lied to and played around with. Maybe they could try that with T'Challa, but whatever he decided, it was finite.

Erik approached Anathi, lifting her from the cold ground in one hand. Her breathing was constricted as his grasp around her neck was tight.

Smaller hands beat on his with no avail, her consciousness slowly slipping further and further away.

"This is what y'all want?! Huh?!" Erik taunted the horrified and helpless members.

Would you really kill a child, Young Prince?

Shut the fuck up! He wanted to scream at Fari.

No longer was he going to allow her to treat him like a child.

Tears streamed down Anathi's puffy cheeks, rolling onto his hand and between each finger. Quiet cries came from her grandmother who was being consoled by those around her.

Erik callously watched the life force being drained from the girl.

"Stop!" A new voice had emerged into the air.

Audible gasps flooded the room, Erik too was caught off guard, releasing Anathi to fall onto the ground.

He turned around, knees almost buckling at the sight in front of him.

"She lives." Okoye rejoiced with a rare smile on her face.

You stood there, staring at the new man you had never seen before, but oddly enough it felt as if you had known him for a much longer time than reality said.

He was the most beautiful man you had ever seen, standing tall and strong. Though he had one of your best friends in a vice grip, it was almost impossible to be truly angry at him.

The astounded look in his eyes captivated you, drawing you closer and closer.

Only mere moments ago were his eyes filled with wrath, something that you would never see.

Who is he?

Erik had stared you down, feeling frozen in time as you drew closer to not him, but the girl on the ground.

"Anathi, ingaba ulungile (are you alright)?" Your hands gently touched the young girl, disturbed by the bruise forming around her neck.

"Uvukile (you are awake)." She hoarsely voiced in amazement.

It hadn't felt that long for you personally, but it certainly was for those who were still staring at you in complete shock.

You stood up to get a better look at the stranger who had almost taken the poor girl's life, and for what?

"Ungubani (who are you)?" You sternly inquired, poking at his chest sharply.

A spark had zapped you, both of you recoiling.

Erik had received that fairy tail shock he was initially expecting, but what no one else expected was the smile that grew on his face for the first time ever, a genuine one. 

"So you are my soulmate?"

"And you are mine." Erik said.

It took a lot of time for him to explain his initial reason for coming to Wakanda, and how he had not expected to find his soulmate locked away and trapped under a spell.

"If you are king, then that must mean-"

Erik nodded.

This would be the hard part to explain, but whatever happens, soulmate bonds were strong and could never be broken.

Processing your emotions over T'Challa's death was both confusing and hard. You wanted to be upset, you wanted to cry, you wanted to be mad, but none of the emotions came to pass. 

Sure it had been a long time since you fell under the spell, but you certainly did not expect your Prince Charming to also be the new ruler and murderer of King T'Challa.

Weeks passed and Erik had spent his time courting and getting to know you. It was all incredibly flattering, but alas, T'Challa still ran through your mind.

He was suppose to marry you, and you would give him an heir.

But all was changed once this American man had stepped his foot onto the Wakanda soil.

Erik slept soundly in the large canopy bed, his large arms wrapped behind his head. You remained awake, thinking about the previous king, the princess and the queen.

Vengeance.

You pondered, soulmate bonds cannot be permanent. If I sever his ties to the earth, I can be set free.

A knife laid tucked underneath the bed.

It was now or never.

Without leaving the bed, your hand slid against the marble floor, feeling for the weapon. The sharp edge pricked your index finger slightly indicating its location, so you raise it from the floor cautiously.

The man remained fast asleep, as peaceful as ever.

Your legs went on either side of Erik, careful not to sit down on him, the knife was pointed straight to his heart. Tiny droplets of blood dripped from your finger and onto his chest.

If I really love T'Challa I will do this for him. 

One breath in and the knife went down swiftly, eyes closed.

The problem was, there was no separation of tissue, no splatter of blood, no pained groaned.

Your eyes had opened, staring into the ones that captivated you earlier. They were void of anger or fear, but rather filled with bewilderment.

His much stronger hands squeezed arounds yours softly, holding the knife mere millimetres from penetrating his chest.

His hips bucked, flipping you over, knocking the knife away. The positions had switched as he was now on top, trapping your hands above your head.

"Y-you killed him!" The outburst had come from you, breaking the silence.

Immediately knowing who this was about, Erik explained. "It was ritual combat, he agreed to the conditions."

There was no resentment in his tone, it was so delicate and caring.

"I loved him."

"Yes, you loved him. But honestly tell me now, do you still love him?"

"I do." A fast response, with no chance to think. It was a lie.

"Then why do you lie in this bed with me?" He questioned, eyes peering deep into yours. "Why does my heart beat so calmly when you're around?"

"That is only you." You argued.

"Every time I touch you, I feel something." He placed his hand just above your bosom. "I know you feel it too."

You did, just then too. The way he was looking at you only made you want him even more.

But T'Challa...

An unresolved battle persisted in your mind.

"You're the reason I can't show you all I can give. You still holding onto the nigga who couldn't even wake you up, baby."

Bottom lip pulled between teeth, you tried to look away, but could not.

"Do you love him?"

As much as you wanted to scream yes, it wouldn't happen. It was a lie.

Was it fear? Uncertainty?

"Why you so hesitant, (y/n)?" Erik was surprised to find himself asking you the same question Fari had asked him all that time ago.

Your eyes had looked away, confronting the situation felt like betrayal to T'Challa.

"If you don't want me, tell me to leave."

You could not.

You wanted him, needed him to be here with you.

"I ain't believe it at first, but this soulmate shit is real..."

"But T'Challa-"

"Did nothing..."

You stared at the king silently, resisting him would be next to impossible. The glow of the moon enhancing his features beautifully.

"Ask me to leave." He demanded once again.

"I-I can't... I need you."

Three words Erik was delighted to hear.

Your head lifted to capture his lips between yours. Suddenly nothing mattered anymore. Erik spread your hands apart, wrapping his fingers between yours to deepen the kiss. Your head rested back against the plush comforter, tingles coursing through each body. He detached for air, giving you the chance as well before claiming your soft lips again. He came in hungrier, more passionate than the first time, unclasping his fingers from your left hand and raising your neck.

His thick lips latched onto your neck, sucking against the skin. The warm scent of vanilla filled his nose pleasantly, the taste sweet against his tongue.

Moans escaped your mouth as he precisely worked his lips around your frame. Now resting above your breasts, Erik gazes into your eyes for approval, in which you granted him.

The long silk garment was removed from your body, revealing a pair breast and erect nipples waiting to be licked. His large hand grasps the right as his head moves to the left, latching onto it hungrily.

Your fingers run over his head, holding them as he skillfully attended to your breasts. Soft moans filled his ears, encouraging him to continue.

He detached, sliding down even further where a wet patch had exposed you.

A smirk graced his lips as he pealed the blue panties away from your body.

Erik positioned himself between your thighs, bending your legs up and over to allow him better access to your dripping core.

He trailed kisses on each thigh before placing one onto your centre. A shiver coursed through your body as he increased the intensity with his tongue.

Experience wouldn't even be the best word to describe his precision.

The moans that were leaving your body were no longer quiet and sultry, rather loud and desperate. Your fingers grabbed his dreads as his tongue continued its assault onto your clit. The further Erik pushed his tongue in, the louder your volume grew.

Pressure continuously built up inside of your core, and shortly after, you had released onto him. There was a lot, nothing that you were expecting.

"Damn, baby." He marvelled with a wet jaw. Erik stood up to remove his bottoms.

The monster growing in his pants sprung free, bobbing slightly and menacingly at you.

But suddenly you had realized something.

I'm a virgin...

Erik noticed the change in your eyes, it appeared more like fear than anything. And not the 'there's no way it's gonna fit' fear.

"What's wrong?"

"I... I've never done this before."

He chuckled, grateful that he would be your first. "That ain't no problem. I got you, baby."

Shyly nodding, you lie back down with a shaky breath. His hands hook underneath your knees, bending them towards your chest. He lubricates his member against your folds before coating it with a hand.

He watched you, watching him. "Don't tense up on me."

You nod again, watching him move closer until it poked at your entrance. A sharp exhale left your mouth as he pushed in slightly.

"Just breathe, you good." Erik coaxes you. Your hands find the bedsheets, nails digging firmly into them.

His member breached even deeper, causing a pained sound to leave your lips. He slows down, giving you time to adjust.

"O-okay, go." You stuttered, allowing him to fit the rest in.

He pressed down slowly but firmly, letting out a moan of his own.

"This shit so tight." He groaned in pleasure, bitting his lower lip.

Ocne he had bottomed, a spark coursed through both his and your veins. It felt as though an even deeper connection had been made, solidifying the meaning of soulmate bonds.

Erik's hips moved backward, removing some of the pressure off of your cervix, but it came back as soon as he moved again.

"Ungh- shit." You winced, trying to manage the strokes.

He continued a slow pace, just for you to adjust. It wasn't going to be a purely pleasurable experience, especially not for the first time, but it wasn't all painful either.

When you finally relaxed his pace increased, thrusts moving more efficiently in and out of you.

"N'Jadaka, ohhh!" You whimpered, eyes shut, body bouncing underneath him.

He admired you underneath the moonlight. Eyes closed, eyebrows narrowed, mouth ajar. The moans, your voice, all so pleasing to him.

She is beautiful.

His lips moved back onto your neck as he forced his hips against yours. Juices mixing with each other, adding to the sounds of heavy breathing and moaning.

Erik had you in multiple positions, each one causing a different sensation. He had you flat on your stomach, his feet planted on the ground, Erik had sloppily thrusted into you until the both of your climaxes were achieved.

Tears rested on your cheek, air flowed in and out heavily as your tried to catch your breath. Sore, but very satisfied.

He pulled you against his body. Sweat moistened your skins, and despite your fatigue, Erik looked ready for another round.

Had to be the effects of the heart-shaped herb.

The intense feeling in each body had finally settled steadily, a deeper connection had been formed and you both knew for certain that soulmate bonds were real. A man who came and caused an uproar brought both dark and light onto the Wakandan nation.

He brought your knuckles against his lips. "My queen, I am yours and you are mine."

"My king, and my soulmate." You contently responded, awaiting all that was to come in the near future.

I am so happy I finally finished part 2 (the final part) to Sleeping Beauty. It's literally been 2 years LOL!

I hope you enjoyed, especially for those who requested!

(Start/Finish: March 31 - April 1, 2020)

[hiseternalmayfly]

🔧Peace Through Superior Fire Power

Here it is! I finally put it down into words. It's a bit of a jumbled mess of random thoughts and I apologize for that but here is the story of my S/I Seven and Vash. Please let me know what you think about it! How she feels about Meryl, Milly and Wolfwood are also mentioned in here. This post is ok to reblog!

CW: Mentions of alcoholism, blood, wounds, mentions of sex. Ask me to tag if you need anything tagged!

Seven’s story before meeting Vash:

Seven grew up in a large family with 12 other siblings. Due to the large size of her family, she was very reclusive. Most of her time was spent reading or tinkering to keep away from loud, screaming children. It should be noted that despite this, she adores her family above all else. Her family means the world to her. She left home at 16 to pursue an internship as an engineer in Augusta. She left without taking much money with her, so Seven was really scraping by on the small amounts of commission she got from her internship or taking up random jobs around the city. At one point, her desperate jobs cost her her eye, which she replaced with one she created herself.

Their first meeting and beyond:

Since everyone on Gunsmoke knows "Vash the Stampede," she was well informed on all the rumors about him. Much like everyone else, she believed there was no way a single man could actually reduce an entire city to ashes in one night and assumed all rumors about him were exaggerated. It wasn’t until her mentor told her about the custom gun that the "Humanoid Typhoon" carries that she became interested. While everyone else was after him for the $60 billion dollar bounty, she wanted that gun. So when Vash the Stampede rolled into town, she took her chance and made off with his gun. Of course he noticed instantly and chased her down until she gave it back, but that didn’t stop her. Seven is incredibly stubborn. Despite giving his gun back, she attempted this multiple days in a row. After the 4th time, Vash had enough and was about ready to hand her over to the sheriff, but the two of them struck a deal. Vash would let her study his gun, and in exchange, she would repair it.

Seven did such an excellent job at repairing it that Vash was thoroughly impressed. Most people he took it to would complain it was too complex to repair, but she had it back to normal in record time. Another deal was agreed upon with them where he would bring her parts from his trips and she would fix his gun every time. It worked in Seven’s favor, as Vash would often bring large hauls back with him, meaning she didn’t need to spend money on spare parts.

This exchange lasted for a couple of years while the two became friends. Seven thought it strange that she continued to grow but Vash never changed in appearance, but she chose not to question it. Her hard labor and simple joy of drinking spiraled into a bit of a drinking problem for her once she turned 21. Vash would often bring a bottle of whiskey with him as well as parts for payments, and she would chug the whole bottle in an hour.

It started to change between them when Vash drunkenly stumbled into her home one day. He was drenched in blood, and his coat was torn in multiple places. He was so wasted that she couldn’t understand a single word he said. She quickly took him in and roughly patched up his wounds to the best of her ability using torn cloth and alcohol. Seven was very aware that Vash had no one else to turn to. Anyone would kill him for the price on his head. This was the first time she saw just how badly scarred he was. Seeing multiple chunks of his flesh simply missing made her gag, but she held strong once she saw Vash look violently insecure about all of it. It was the first time they had a real heart-to-heart where Vash talked about his refusal to kill anyone, the reasons why he can’t stop moving, and the things that scared him. Seven listened to all of it, and on that day she realized all the rumors about "Vash the Stampede" really were overdramatic. She saw Vash for who he really was: A "man" who wants to protect everyone on the planet and spread a message of peace and equality.

Their meetings started turning from gun repairs to simply hanging out. She offered her home as a safe place for him to stay when he wanted a break from being on the run. During this time, she was introduced to Meryl, Milly, and Wolfwood, with whom she became good friends. Wolfwood and her butt heads a bit, but she was thankful there was someone out there looking out for Vash. Vash had made it clear that Seven was never allowed to go with them, and she was okay with following this rule. She knew how dangerous it was to follow him around, and she wasn’t ready to risk her life like that.

One night when Vash visits alone, the two of them get a bit too drunk, and it gets handsy between them. They end up sleeping together, and it makes things a little awkward between them. Seven begins to realize she has feelings for Vash, but Vash is terrified of commitment. They try to move past the event, but each time they hang out again, the air feels tense as their feelings for each other get stronger and stronger, even though they stay quiet about it.

Fast forward a bit, and the Augusta incident happens. Seven and many others thankfully escaped due to Vash’s vigilance in scaring everyone out of town, but as she sees the town reduced to ashes in the distance, she’s horrified to know Vash is still in there. Seven, Meryl, and Milly were all forced to watch in horror, not knowing if Vash was even alive anymore. She chose to go with the insurance girls, as her home had now been destroyed and the man she was in love with was now missing.

The three temporarily settled down in Jenora Rock. During this time, Seven’s mental health started to spiral. Vash was hated even more, as not only had he leveled a second city, but he blew a hole into the 5th moon. Every Time she walked outside, someone would be gossiping about Vash, usually in a nasty manner. Her drinking problem became much worse because of this. Meryl and Milly would often find her passed out in the streets in the middle of the night after drinking her sorrows away.

Despite her drinking problem, she was able to get herself a small home and a job in Jenora Rock, making it her new home. A while after settling in, Milly brings her a letter from Wolfwood in which he says he has something she’s going to want to see. Seven is fearing the worst—that Wolfwood found something that signified Vash was dead.

What she didn’t expect was for Wolfwood to knock on her door late one night, bringing with him a man with long blonde hair and a scruffy beard. As soon as he greeted her, she knew it was Vash. She threw herself at him and punched him as hard as she could in the stomach (making him double over in pain), but then proceeded to hug him and cry as hard as she could.

She hurled insults at him while he held her and comforted her. Wolfwood left to give them room and speak with the insurance girls.

From there, Vash tells her the truth about him. That he’s not human, that his brother is after him and all the humans, and that he has to stop him. He talks about how, after the Augusta incident, he spent the time living a hidden life as a man named Eriks because he wasn’t ready to face the world. Unfortunately, Wolfwood wasn’t going to let him keep that peaceful life, but he knew it was for the best. He realizes from the obscene amount of empty beer bottles that Seven’s drinking problem had worsened while he was gone.

Seven is normally closed off, but already tipsy and shaken by Vash’s reappearance, she spills her guts. She’s nearly in tears the entire time, insulting him for leaving all of them unaware if he was alive or not. The way she speaks causes Vash to break down as well. He admits the same feelings but keeps saying he’s scared because people who get close to him always get killed. The two have lots of back and forth with tears, laughter, and stories before they end up sleeping together once again.

After it, they hold each other, and that’s where their relationship starts. Vash keeps the harsh ground rule that she is never to follow him or get in his way, and she agrees. All she knows is that when he holds her, she sees some happiness form in his dark, cloudy eyes, and all she wants to do is give him the life she knows he deserves.

He’s more than "Vash the Stampede" or "The Humanoid Typhoon." He is a broken man, backed into a corner by the world.

[elysianymph]

I'd love to hear about 5 and 10 bc you are so right about the lilypad bffs agenda <3

-cress (jegulily-stuff)

these two documents are apparently the same thing??? one is just a more polished version 😭 but here you go!!

“So how did patrolling with my idiot of a brother go?”

Sirius tried so hard to hide how much he truly cared about everyone, but it was easy to tell in moments like this. Lily signed in fondness at his antics. “He’s not as unbearable as you made him sound.”

Silence for a beat, then: “He didn’t… say anything to you, did he?” Lily immediately knew what he was insinuating and she almost wished he had a bit more faith in his brother, but she couldn’t blame him for assuming. When she didn’t answer, Sirius continued: “‘Cause if he did I’ll make him regret it, Lils.”

Lily chuckled at the threat, empty or not she couldn’t really tell, and shook her head. “No, no he didn’t Sirius. As a matter of fact, we even conversed like normal people do.”

Lily felt Sirius shift and looked down to see him looking at her with a raised eyebrow, lips pursed. “Are you sure that was my brother? Might’ve gotten him mixed up with someone else.”

“Oh trust me, Pads, I can recognise your stupid Black genes anywhere I go,” Lily replied. Sirius pretended to be hurt by her statement, putting his free hand on his chest as he winced.

“You are a cruel woman, Evans.” Sirius recovered from her cruel remark quite quickly though and immediately went back to questioning her: “But seriously, what did you two have to converse about?”

“Potions assignments, obviously,” Lily lied because Sirius truly did not need to know that Regulus of all people was trying to help Sirius get together with Remus.

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Oh of course you perfect students bonded over bloody potions homework. I can’t believe this.”

Lily laughed at that, burying her face into Sirius’ now tangled hair. Sirius joined in on her laughter only a moment later and they stayed like that, just the two of them under the flickering lights of the common room.

underrated besties