#maybe maul rubs off on her

[herbalinz-of-yesteryear]

Ede & Kai. Not-happening AU xD

Thank you for letting me draw your Kai in this meme which makes perfect sense (in my head 😂), @aftergloom

Here’s one for the foundlings in our stories 🫗

[sodaabaa]

shadows and spirits, part two

azriel x reader reader is azriel's mate but she hasn't accepted the bond yet due to her fear of azriel himself.

tw: nsfw, smut, brief mentions of childhood trauma, edging, oral, restraint.

part one

a/n: holy shit y'all, azriel made me go feral with this one. enjoy ;)

“You won’t be able to stay away from him much longer,” Feyre teased. When one night stands and self-pleasure proved to be unsuccessful, Y/N gave up trying to satisfy herself altogether. Instead, ignoring the throbbing between her legs by staying as busy as she could – filling her days with extra shifts at the bar and frequent after-work drinks with Feyre. 

“Shut up.” “That’s no way to speak to your High Lady,” She gasped, a hand on her chest in feigned shock. 

Y/N scoffed, “Don’t you have places to be, my lady?” 

She waved a hand, “What could possibly be more important than watching you try to ignore how frustrated you are?”

She rolled her eyes, “I’m fine,” she said through gritted teeth. Feyre gave her a look that said ‘sure you are’ but she didn’t bring it up again. The two spent the night drinking, Y/N listened as Feyre drunkenly ranted about Rhys and Nesta’s most recent topic of debate – and by debate, she meant they nearly mauled each other to death. Y/N couldn’t help the curiosity nagging at her.

“What’s he been doing?” She finally asked.

“Sulking. Brooding. The usual.” 

Y/N nodded, for some reason she was unconvinced that the Spymaster hadn’t been up to anything.

“He doesn’t show it – much less say it – but your fear, it’s messing with him,” Feyre confessed. 

She didn’t say anything, opting for another shot instead. 

“He’s been waiting for a mate for five hundred years, Y/N. And he’s had a hard life. He shares your complaints about Illyrians because he was subjected to their cruelty just as you and your mother were. I know he can be intimidating but if you trust me at all, trust that you would be in good hands with him as your mate.”

They finally parted, a dangerous amount of alcohol in their systems as they walked off. Y/N stumbled her way to her apartment. She could’ve sworn the alleyway between the buildings were darker but she chalked it up to being drunk off her mind. When she finally reached her destination, she collapsed on her couch, exhausted. The alcohol had done a good job at dulling the incessant throbbing – so much so that she finally got a few hours of rest before dreams of a man entrenched in shadows, head between her legs, startled her awake. 

Damn you, Shadowsinger.

She rubbed her thighs together, the images of her dream flashing before her eyes. A hand traveled down her stomach, trailing to the spot between her legs she was beginning to resent. She slipped her fingers underneath her panties, giving in to the nagging arousal as she worked the spot. His face flashed before her eyes and she cursed, removing her hands and sitting up. Y/N decided to take a cold shower, if only to punish herself for thinking of that damned Illyrian. Shadows shifted in the corner and she stilled. She had no idea how his shadows worked but she had a creeping suspicion he used them as his eyes and ears.

“What happened? Too scared to come and see me yourself so you send your shadows instead?” The shadows went still and Y/N thought maybe she had imagined their movement. She shook her head, and just as she was about to walk away, a tendril of shadow reached for her hand, reluctant to touch her but it looked curious. She reached out, fingertips brushing the shadow before it retreated through the cracks of her door, disappearing into the light.

After a long, scaldingly hot shower, Y/N decided to stay home for the day because of the pounding headache thanks to her and Feyre’s drinking session the night before. She sighed as she sunk into her bed, wearing only a fluffy bathrobe, content to lounge in bed the rest of the day. Unfortunately, someone had other plans. A knock at her front door startled her from her relaxed daze. She groaned, unwilling to get up and answer the door. Another knock, this time accompanied by a velvety voice.

“What happened? Too scared to come and face me?” 

She muttered a curse under her breath and she stood, wrapping the robe just a little tighter around her body for good measure. She cracked the door open, just enough to peek through.

“What do you want, I’m in the middle of something.” He looked down at her, brows quirked up in amusement. He was holding a brown paper bag against his torso. 

“In the middle of a bad hangover?” He motioned to the bag, “I have the world’s best cure, right here.” 

She pulled the door open, ever so slightly, “I’m listening.”

“Let me in and it’s all yours.”

She considered his offer for a moment, lips twisted in silent contemplation. The two of them together, in a rather small apartment. Alone. What could possibly go wrong? “Fine – but no funny business. Keep your hands to yourself,” She pointed an accusing finger at him to which he responded with raised hands in mock surrender. She let him in, the door much too small to accommodate his tall frame and those absurdly large wings but he wiggled himself in anyway.

She snatched the bag from him and plopped down on the couch, not waiting for him to find a seat. She opened the bag and her mouth watered at the smell of the variety of greasy, fried foods he brought her. He must have seen the way her shoulders dropped in relief as she dug into the food, emitting a laugh from the normally stone faced man. She placed the bag on the table between them and pulled out the cartons of the fragrant food inside.

“What, I’m starving and hungover,” She said, in between bites. In the midst of her feast, she realized this was everything she’d usually order from Rita’s. Wedges of spicy fried potatoes, garlicky bites of chicken, and onion rings. 

“You should drink some water,” He pulled a bottle of water from the bag. 

She shook her head, “Nuh-uh, I’m not done yet.” His eyes narrowed, “Water. Now.” 

Her eyes widened at the sudden change in tone, authoritative and stern (she didn’t want to admit it made her knees go weak and her stomach flutter). She reached to take the bottle from him but he pulled it back towards himself, causing her to stumble forward

“Dick,” She spat.

“If you want some, it’s right here,” He motioned downwards.

She leaned forward and snatched the bottle, taking a few dramatic gulps to ensure he wouldn’t pester her about drinking more later. 

She sat back, hands over her stomach as she groaned, “I ate too much.” 

He laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a genuine smile. She hated to admit it but she was beginning to enjoy hearing his laugh – and being the reason behind it. His shadows swirled around him, some of them pulling away from him but not quite able to reach their desired destination. 

“How do they work?” He quirked an eyebrow in question.

“The shadows.”

“Ah. They obey me,” He said with a nod, the shadows slithered over his form and across the room. They hovered over her legs as he watched. 

She gave him a look, “Well I could see that. But are they – alive? Do they have a mind of their own? Or are they just an extension of you? Did you capture them or were you somehow born with them?” She rambled.

He smiled at her sudden interest in him and his shadows. The shadows returned to their master. 

“They’re sentient – if that’s what you mean by alive. They can feel things, sense things to an extent. Sometimes they slip from under my control but it’s easy to reign them back in,” He paused, contemplating how to answer her other questions. “My father used to lock me up in the dark. I would talk to the shadows, to feel less alone. One day, I suppose, the shadows decided to talk back. They became a part of me, tied to my pain – insistent on protecting me, helping me,” He explained, he was looking down at his hands now. She winced at his confession, at the suffering he must have endured as a child.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly.

He smiled again, “Don’t be. It was centuries ago,” he waved off.

She held his gaze, entranced by those hazel eyes. She cleared her throat, suddenly aware of how close they were, only a small coffee table separating them. 

“Thank you for the food,” She said, flustered under his gaze, “You didn’t eat anything–,” He cut her off before she could finish.

“I’m not hungry for food.” 

She stilled. Her heart pounded in her ears. “I should go, I only wanted to make sure you were okay after you and Feyre drank your weight in alcohol,” He said. She sighed in relief. 

“So you were spying on me!”

He shrugged, “You can’t expect me not to, especially if you’re drunk out of your mind.”

He stalked over to the door, wings tucked in tight to avoid bumping into anything.

“Don’t dream too much of me,” He said with a knowing smirk. She shoved him out the door and (semi) slammed it shut, exhaling as she slumped against the door.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Y/N tossed and turned in bed that night, unable to ignore the throbbing between her legs any longer. She sat up, thinking about the man who brought her food just a few hours ago. It wasn’t his dominating presence or his flirty comments that riled her up anymore – it was his vulnerability, his honesty. He confided in her, paid attention to the little details, made sure she was safe and taken care of. She peered at the corners of her room, looking for the shadows that writhed with life. When she spotted movement in the corner, she reached a hand out to it. The shadow moved like smoke, twisting and curling towards her outstretched hand, weaving in between her fingers. She giggled, it felt odd – the shadows weren’t solid, it felt almost like a cold breeze, she couldn’t quite grasp it but she could feel it there, real. 

“I’m ready,” She spoke softly. The shadow twirled around her fingers before slipping out of the room to return to its master – eager to relay the news. 

She sat in bed, knees to her chest as she waited anxiously for Azriel’s arrival. She heard the door unlock and saw the shadows pool into her room before he walked in. He looked at her with pure hunger in his eyes. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” She confessed. 

“I think I can help with that,” He stalked over to her, body pulsing with energy. She scooted back, making space for him on the bed.

“Don’t I have to feed you first? Feyre said–,” He grabbed her feet from under her, yanking to straighten her out onto the bed. The force caused her to fall back against the bed. 

“I have all I need right here,” He kneeled at the edge of the bed while his hands trailed up her bare legs.

Heat rushed to her face as he left a trail of kisses down her stomach, making his way down to her thighs – and Oh. He nipped at the inside of her thigh, dangerously close to the pulsing heat of her core.

“Are you sure?” He asked, his breath tickling her skin as he looked up at her.

She nodded, “I accept you as my mate, Azriel.” 

That was all he needed. Azriel ripped off her shorts and panties in one motion, shadows thrumming to life behind him as he devoured her. His mouth found her core, his tongue lapping at the wetness that had already formed. He chuckled, causing vibrations to shoot up Y/N’s spine.

“I haven’t even touched you and you’re soaking.” She whined in response. His tongue made a slow, tantalizing trail up her core before he settled on sucking that aching spot, instantly bringing her close to the edge. His hands roughly gripped the flesh of her thighs, keeping her spread open to his deliberations. She moaned his name, signaling how close she was to tipping over that blissful edge. He pulled away, causing her hips to buck up at the sudden interruption. 

She whined, “Azriel?” 

He placed gentle kisses moving up her stomach, hands roughly grabbing her breasts eliciting a gasp from Y/N. His tongue circled her left nipple before sucking on the gentle bud – electrifying her even further.

He pulled away, finally reaching her lips as he devoured her.

“Didn’t I say,” he broke the kiss, “that I would make you beg for mercy?” His lips returned to hers briefly, “that I would remind you of your obstinance?” 

She looked up at him with wide eyes, unsure of what to say. 

“Have you resigned to your fate?” She nodded.

“Good girl,” He whispered.

He pulled back from her, lifting his shirt off and sitting up to undo his pants. She swallowed as her eyes trailed down his body. He was made of pure muscle, tattoos black as night swirling across his torso made his muscular form even more prominent. Her eyes trailed down to his hips, licking her lips involuntarily. 

“You’re drooling,” He said.

Her eyes shot back up to his, taking in the amusement written across his face.

“I was not,” She defended herself (rather pathetically). He only hummed, unconvinced and amused at the flustered girl before him.

She looked down at him once he finally revealed himself. Her eyes widened — in fear? Apprehension? She nervously wiggled her hips underneath him, unsure of how he could possibly fit. 

“I don’t think—,” She was cut off by Azriel’s dangerously low voice. He leaned down, hot breath trailing up her neck, “You’re gonna take every inch like the good little slut that you are,” He whispered against her and then placed a few burning kisses behind her ear, causing her stomach to churn.

He smirked against her skin, pleased at how timid she suddenly became. He lined himself up against her, Y/N’s breaths now rapid in anticipation. He pushed himself forward, ever so slightly, allowing her to adjust to his tip. Her eyes rolled back at the sudden invasion, unable to control the lewd sounds that came out of her mouth. He pushed in deeper, drawing out another moan from the girl beneath him. She put a hand on his chest to stop him from going deeper, already overwhelmed with a wave of intense pleasure, it rolled through her core and nearly broke her. And this was just the beginning. He leaned his head down, lips finding sensitive spots on her jaw, her neck, trailing down to her collarbone while he waited for her to adjust. She clenched around him involuntarily, eliciting a snarl from the man. His shadows snaked up her legs, holding them apart as he sunk deeper. She gasped as he went deeper, inching closer and closer to her wall. She screamed out in pleasure, legs struggling against the shadows, hips bucking underneath him. 

“Az! Please, it’s too much,” She gasped. 

He hit her walls, pleased with her loss of composure. He pulled out and with a kiss on her lips, sunk right back in, all in one swift motion that had Y/N gasping for air. He continued to push into her as she writhed and moaned and clawed at him. Her brain had effectively shut off, the only thing she could feel, the only thing she could think about was his cruel, punishing cock pounding in and out of her. 

“You were made to take all of me, you know that? The Cauldron created you, just for me,” He growled, punctuating his words with hard thrusts, “To be my plaything, my mate,” another thrust, “I bet you hate the idea of being bred but look at you, your cunt is milking my cock, going against everything you thought you believed in, desperate to be filled with my cum.”

She arched her back as he continued brutalizing her. Overwhelmed, she tried to push him off, give her space to breathe but he responded with shadows snaking up her arms, holding her against the bed, entirely at his mercy. She was fully restrained now, legs held wide apart, arms above her head. Her moans increased in pitch and pace, her body on the brink of total, ecstatic relief. A few tears slipped down her cheeks, Azriel kissed them away as he increased his rhythm. Her mouth agape, in a silent scream as he tore into her. 

“Should I let you cum, hm?” He watched her intently, taking in every moan, every whimper, all the ways her face contorted in response to his hands on her body, his cock buried deep inside her. 

“You’ve been such a good girl, taking me so well, and you’ve been on edge for weeks now,” He looked at her with a devilish grin. She whimpered. 

“Beg for it, baby,” His voice was tauntingly soft. She scrunched her face, unable to make any sound let alone speak as he fucked her. He knew this as he slowed, bringing Y/N ever so slightly down from the high she could almost feel. 

“No!” She called out desperately, “please, please Azriel. Don’t stop. I need to cum, please let me cum!” She screamed, her voice hoarse. 

He picked up the pace again, rewarding her obedience. 

“I’m sure that pretty mouth can do a lot better,” He chastised, “What do you need, Y/N, who do you need?”

“You! I need you Az, please! I need you to make me cum! Please, I’m begging you,” she pleaded. 

“Who am I?” 

When she didn’t answer, he pushed into her with an especially rough thrust.

“My mate!” She moaned in response.

“Who do you belong to?” 

“You! Az, I belong to you!” Her voice strained as she inched painfully close to release. 

He groaned as he picked up the pace, at this point Y/N saw stars, her teary eyes shut as Azriel’s final thrusts drove her over the edge, unable to make sound or focus on anything but the excruciating pleasure possessing her body. Her back arched as she panted through her orgasm. She felt a hot release inside her as Azriel groaned against her, his pace slowed and his body going taut as he finished too. The pleasure hadn’t stopped, it rolled through her like aftershocks of an earthquake, drawing out soft whimpers and moans. 

“What do you say?” A hand gripped her chin.

“Thank you,” She said meekly. 

He smiled and finally pulled out of her. His forehead resting against hers as their breaths came in and out. His arms snaked around her waist as he rolled them over to the side. His wings cocooning over her like a blanket, shadows resting lazily across their bodies. He kissed the top of her head as she snuggled into his chest. 

“I’m gonna be so sore tomorrow,” She whimpered. 

“Good. It’ll teach you not to mouth off or deny me of what’s mine ever again,” He chuckled against her. 

She didn’t have the strength to reply with some witty comment, she merely snuggled in closer, basking in his warmth and drifting off to the most restful sleep she’d ever had. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Azriel woke up to his shadows lazily trailing over his mate’s bare body. He admired her sleeping form, grateful for the moment of peace before he was forced to head off to work. His shadows heard this thought, sulking against her body possessively, unwilling to leave her so soon. 

I know, I don’t wanna leave her either. 

The shadows tickling her skin caused her to stir but not quite enough to wake up. His face turned stern, the shadows begrudgingly returning back to their master. She’d need her rest for when Azriel returned so he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and hastily wrote a note to explain his absence. The shadows reluctantly followed as Azriel left her room, but they stopped in the kitchen — insistent on starting a pot of coffee to brew along with some sliced fruits they set out on a plate. Azriel chuckled lightly at the shadows' instant attachment and show of affection to his mate. 

She’s mine, he teased. 

He felt the shadows bounce against his chest, trying to knock him off balance. He shook his head, exiting the apartment with the shadows rushing to keep up behind him.

[thesharkwhalewhoohooooo]

Bridget x Fem! Reader

"My girlfriend got me a dead rat for my birthday!" Charming proudly puffed up his chest, looking at the group of girls in front of him when they staid quiet for a bit too long.

"What?"

"She got me a dead rat!"

"She couldn't even go for an alive one!" Hecate burst out laughing, Bridget slapping her arm, along with Ella's.

"Ella! Why would you do that?" The girl shrugged, Charming quickly taking over, again.

"Because she loves me! She's obviously like a cat and is giving me food because she thinks I can't hunt for myself!" They all gaped at him once again, this time Ella did too.

"She's sitting right there..."

"I AM NOT A CAT STUPID CHARMING!"

Before she could completely maul the boy, Bridget pulled Ella off of him.

"Let's not kill our boyfriends, all right Ella?" She gritted her teeth, but nodded, a fierce glare fixed upon her boyfriend.

"I mean, I know my strap game is amazing but-?" Bridget all but ran over at her girlfriend, slapping her hand over her mouth and giving her her own glare.

"Don't." Hecate's eyes widened slightly, beforr Bridget felt her smirk.

"You're so hot." Her words were muffled but they did their job of making Bridget flush red just as good.

"Hecate!" The witch pulled her hand off of her mouth and picked her up to kiss her, spinning her around slowly.

"You're so pretty..." she mumbled onto her lips, making the princess giggle.

"Not as pretty as you sweets!" They heard Ella gag, Hecate looked at her and glanced at Charming, arching a brow suggestively at her.

"STUPID HECATE!"

"DON'T THROW YOUR SHOE AT ME! I'M HOLDING BRIDGET!"

-

"What did you do for Bridget's birthday though?" Charming asked, quite literally the next day because Ella and Hecate couldn't be in the same toom as each other anymore.

"I gave her pink roses, a new apron, oh! And I got her a few ingredients she has been wanting to. Experiment with for a while.... Don't!" She held her hand up in front of her face when she saw Ella reach for something, which pissed her off because she wasn't even going to throw anything.

"I wasn't even going to throw anything!" She threw a rock at Hecate, not that it could hurt her, but she withdrew and pouted as she sat next to Bridget, who patted her cheek.

"It was so sweet of her, she even helped decorate the cookies.... God knows she should be banned from using kitchens!" She joked, smiling as Ella laughed at it and started mocking Hecate.

"That's so sweet! You wanna know what I did?"

"Not really."

"I gave her a dress! And I asked Bridget to make her a cake!" Hecate glanced at Ella, who shrugged.

"You guys haven't been in a relationship long enough." She declared, Ella stood up and launched another rock, missing Hecate by a few millimeters.

"Ha! Missed-! Hey!" This time she hit, and it got her right in her forehead.

She shuffled closer to Bridget, who shushed her and rubbed her forehead softly.

"You're not bleeding Honey."

"You guys have only been dating for like 2 months longer than we have!" The blue haired girl crossed her arms, the other blue haired girl shot her a glare and shuffled EVEN CLOSER to Bridget.

"Yeah! Go back to your mommy little pussy!" Bridget send her a look and she rolled her eyes, sitting back down.

"But yeah, giving Bridget those ingredients was very nice, including the fact that you had me treat the slashes from those griffins you 'had' to defeat on your way back to get her some of their feathers, scales blah blah." She sneaked in another little detail that she had conveniently forgotten to inform Bridget about, who in turn looked at Hecate, who was still pouting, and quickly stood up.

"Hecate and I are going to have a chat in my dorm... maybe we'll see you at dinner, bye Ella, Charming!" They said their bye's back, and Hecate glared at Ella, who smirked at her.

The only thing keeping Hecate from launching at her and ripping her to shreds was Bridget, who was pissed at her.

-

"God damn it you are strong." She muttered, rubbing her wrist when Bridget finally let go, but had now pushed her onto her bed and was zipping down her jacket.

"Hey hey! If you wanted to do something you could've just said.... Oh." She sighed in disappointment when she realised that she was not, in fact, about to have sex with her wonderful girlfriend, but instead was probably facing a scolding that ended in the opposite of that, no sex for as long as Bridget was slightly mad at her, which could end up being something around a day and a month.

"How dare you get hurt because of something you wanted to get for me." Bridget grumbled as she poked at the newly developed scars.

"But they look hot?"

"Shush."

[sleepinthrumyalarms]

— weird but lovely trophies

pairing: wednesday addams x fem!oni!reader

warnings: descriptions of gore

summary: wednesday wakes up one morning to find a dead bird at the foot of her bed. she doesn't pay it too much thought, but then mauled animals start to appear in her room with alarming frequency

word count: 2.7k

Wednesday opened her eyes, squinting, her palms rising to her face to rub at her tired lids. It was early in the morning, and she definitely should’ve went to bed instead of pulling an all – nighter with working on her novel, making her usual writing time drag out well into the late hours. Her head throbbed, and the light coming through the huge window seemed too much for her sensitive self.

“Good morning, Wednes- Oh no!”

Talk about being a morning person.

Wednesday sat up in her bed, turning her head to face her sunny roommate begrudgingly. Enid was still in her pastel pink pajamas, the strap on her shirt sliding down her shoulder as she buried her hand in her disheveled blonde hair. She was standing a little away from her friend’s bed, looking at something on the floor with a put – off expression.

“Is my presence that much of a spoil for your perfect morning?” Wednesday deadpanned in a tired hoarse voice.

“No, it’s not that! Look!”

Following Enid’s gaze, the gloomy girl noticed a small feathered lump laying at the foot of her bed. It was a small bird, and the rusty – red color of its tummy with the blue – grey cap gave Wednesday’s trained eye enough hints to say it was a chaffinch. Those birds were a common thing in Jericho, and she often saw them flying around on Nevermore’s grounds.

Wednesday watched Thing pop up from under her bed and slowly move towards the finch, poking at it with his finger, then give the ravenette a sad thumbs-up – yep, definitely a goner.

"Poor thing..." the blonde werewolf murmured solemnly, crouching down next to the small creature, "How did it get in here?"

"Maybe it hit the window and opened the sash with the force of the blow," Wednesday mused, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, her pale naked feet touching the cold floor, "Don't touch it. Its insides are probably filled with ptomaine already," she watched Enid make a face of disgust and quickly retract her hand that was trying to reach for the bird, and bent over to carefully take the small cold body into her own palms, "I'll bury it in the schoolyard. I'm used to laying dead animals to rest since my childhood."

As Wednesday held the tiny creature, looking it over, she noticed lacerations covered in caked blood on its body, some feathers plucked off, as if someone tore into the flesh, and its left wing was missing.

Whatever the cause of death was, it wasn't a glass window.

“Have you seen anyone come inside?” She asked Thing as the appendage climbed up her desk, and he waved his finger from side to side in response, making Wednesday sigh, “Since when are you a heavy sleeper?”

Maybe she was just thinking too much into things. Nevertheless, such a start of the day could be considered good, the ravenette thought, putting the dead bird on the desk to go start on her morning routine — it's been awhile since she had last felt the heaviness of a shovel in her arms.

She had some time before class, enough for a small morning funeral.

"Oh my God, what in the world..." Enid stood over her roommate's bed, horrified, her eyes wide open as she stared down at the dead body of a rabbit, laying in a pool of its own blood and intestines.

“This is so fucked up.” The blonde werewolf murmured, pressing her hand over her mouth with a choking sound.

Getting out of bed, Wednesday crouched next to the dead animal. Its neck was gnawed through, and the head was hanging by a thread with the spine barely enough to keep it attached to the carcass. She noticed a bite mark on its fluffy white back, an evident spot of where a strong set of teeth was once buried.

“It was definitely a wild animal,” the ravenette observed, tracing her fingers over the deep gashes on the soft flesh, “And a big one.”

“But how? How could such a huge thing get in here completely unnoticed? Do we really sleep that deep?” Enid gulped, feeling uneasy at the thought of a murderous creature roaming around the girls’ dorm unbeknownst to them. As if a hyde wasn’t enough.

“You most certainly do.” Wednesday mumbled in reply distractedly.

But not her. Indeed, how could this even be possible? On her best nights the ravenette slept like a corpse in a casket, but there was no way she wouldn’t feel a presence of an intruder in her own dorm room.

This was getting too unnerving. Even for Wednesday.

It’s not like she had anything against dead animals. But seeing those mauled carcasses in her own home every few weeks was disturbing – was it a kind of warning, perhaps? And if it was, then... who could the culprit be?

“Hey, little raven.”

Wednesday turned at the familiar voice, finding (Y/n) sliding into the seat next to her, a small grin on her toothy mouth. Dropping her bag next to the desk, the demon scooched closer to the ravenette, leaning over her face, but didn’t move any closer, making Wednesday smile – even after all those months of being together, the oni girl was still adorably respective of her boundaries. Wednesday met (Y/n) half – way, pressing her lips against the taller girl’s in a sweet smooch, and the demon felt her insides flutter.

"Hello, (Y/n). It's good to see you come to class in time for once."

The oni chuckled, resting her hand on the back of Wednesday's seat. She was obviously happy, but there were traces of exhaustion in the corners of her mouth, in the dark circles under her eyes – the season of Blood Moons was definitely trying for the girl.

"How was your hunt?"

"Mm, good," (Y/n) replied, stretching her arms over her head and sighing pleasantly when her back made a satisfying pop, "Don't really remember stuff except, like, running through the woods chasing a damn rabbit, but it was nice to finally warm my muscles up. This form has been too restricting lately."

“A rabbit?” Wednesday smirked, a teasing lilt in her voice, “Isn’t that too small of a dish for your appetite?”

“Ugh, yeah. Hunting instincts, I guess. It’s more about the chase rather than the prey itself. I’d honestly prefer to run another lap or two instead of maths.” The demon grumbled.

“I hope you do remember we’re having a test this week. In fact, you were the one begging me to tutor you. Is today after class convenient for you?”

“Fuck. It’s this week already?” (Y/n)’s face fell, “Sorry, tenshi. Blood Moon calling again.”

“Never mind. It’s your test to fail, after all," the ravenette deadpanned, “At least your ancestors are proud of you ruining your future for the sake of running around like some mindless beast and eating everything that moves.”

“They are proud. It’s in my blood,” the oni huffed, crossing her arms on her chest, top lip baring to reveal blunt tusks in annoyance, “Besides, spending time with you is what matters to me, not some dumb algebra test.”

Silence hung between the girls, and Wednesday watched (Y/n) glare at the desk in front of her resentfully, making her sigh.

“Stop pouting. You know I want what’s best for you.”

“I know. It’s just..,” the (h/c) – haired demon grunted, hanging her head to stare at her clawed palms, “The constant turnings are really taking their toll on me. I feel less and less human every time I come back,” her fists clenched mid – sentence, brows furrowing, “What if... what if I don’t turn back one day? I mean, it shouldn’t happen as long as I wear my pendant, but... I don’t want to be stuck a bloodthirsty brute for the rest of my life.”

A tired groan escaped (Y/n)’s throat, and she slumped her back over her seat.

“Fighting your nature is impossible.” She concluded exasperatedly.

“If it does happen, you and I will escape this wretched academy and go travel around the world,” Wednesday assured, moving to trace her slender digits over the veins on (Y/n)’s hand in a calming way, “I know a thing or two about surviving in the wild. Maybe we’ll even become a local legend somewhere, like Bonnie and Clyde.”

“A goth girl and an oni demon haunting the forests of Alaska, refugees united by their love for eating human hearts out,” (Y/n) grinned, “And their love for each other. I can see that.”

“Now it’s too cheesy. You ruined it.”

The oni girl cackled, making some of her fellow students turn at the loud obnoxious sound.

Wednesday laid in her bed, unmoving, ears strained to catch any small sound in the dead of night. For the past hour the only thing breaking the silence in the room were the snores of her peacefully sleeping werewolf roommate, but the ravenette wasn’t going to give up that easily. She knew that the best of hunters in the wilderness were able to wait out for hours until the perfect moment to strike presented itself, so she gathered up her patience, eyes flickering from her window to the clock on her night table. The glowing white digits read 2:18.

Too late to back away now.

As she stared at the ceiling, unblinking, she heard a noise. It was barely audible, but it was there – the sound of clawed limbs scratching at some stone surface, and it was coming from outside. Wednesday’s face snapped to the window, and, seeing nothing out of ordinary, she carefully sat up on the bed and stood to walk over to the balcony as silently as she could, wincing at the creaking of the floorboards.

Looking out through the discolored part of the glass, Wednesday watched a dark silhouette climb up her balcony. A clawed hand made its way up the granite of the railing, talons scrambling at the surface, then a human – looking body appeared, hoisting itself up by the hands with athletic lightness. The ravenette squinted, trying to get her eyes to adjust to the darkness, and gasped quietly in surprise. In the silhouette of the creature she was supposed to be hunting she recognised (Y/n).

The demon squatted down on the stone railing, looking around cautiously, her eyes wide open and glowing in the dark — it seemed like she was still in her post — turning haze, mind not stable enough to think properly, and her behavior resembled that of a wild animal. She was wearing the usual black hakama pants and her (f/c) haori, the fabric covered in mud and dried blood, and in her tusked mouth the oni held a dead squirrel.

"(Y/n)?"

The demon girl turned her head at the sound of her name, and her slitted eyes glistened in recognition when she saw Wednesday step out on the balcony — but the oni instantly froze in her tracks, obviously caught red handed.

Well... this was certainly not the culprit the ravenette was expecting.

"(Y/n). Drop the squirrel." Wednesday ordered sternly.

The oni girl growled, the sound muffled by the red fluff in her mouth, before she unclenched her jaw reluctantly, letting the small animal fall to the floor. Wednesday moved closer to the stone railing cautiously, afraid to provoke the girl, then, as (Y/n) grunted, giving her approaching a green light, stood face-to-face with the bloodied maw of the demon.

"Why did you bring this here?"

(Y/n) seemed lost in thought for a second before she raised her hand to point a clawed finger at Wednesday's chest.

"You're small. Not a hunter," Wednesday felt her eyebrow twitch at (Y/n)'s completely unabashed comment, but chose to ignore it, and watched as the demon moved to grab the ravenette by the arm, pressing her own, much bigger palm against the other girl's, "See? No claws. No teeth. I hunt for you."

"You're... trying to provide for me by... bringing me game meat?"

The oni grinned, nodding proudly, then her toothy smile wavered, and she looked at Wednesday with the saddest eyes the ravenette had ever seen, "You don't like squirrels?"

The smaller girl sighed — apparently, all common sense was lost on the demon when she was like this, so (Y/n) forgetting that Wednesday was vegan didn't come as a surprise, let alone her neglecting the fact that a human wouldn't fancy a furry rodent for dinner. At least, Wednesday wasn't among those people.

"I like squirrels, (Y/n). Thank you," she reassured the upset demon, entwining her slender fingers with the oni’s, before tugging her off the railing, "Come on. Let's get you to bed."

(Y/n) grinned again, obviously pleased with herself, and followed the smaller girl inside the dorm.

“Sit here. Don’t move a muscle. I’ll get a washcloth to clean you up, then you can sleep.” Wednesday instructed, sitting (Y/n) down on the bed and pointing a finger at the demon to make sure she had made her point, and the taller girl nodded before Wednesday left to the bathrooms.

When she came back, holding a small water bowl and a washcloth, she was surprised to find (Y/n) where she left her, the girl not moving a single muscle since the smaller girl left. Leaving the cleaning items on her nightstand, Wednesday walked up to her closet, quickly finding a random oversized shirt that would be big enough for (Y/n)’s frame, and draped it over the headboard. Then she pushed her chair closer to the bed, and sat down in front of the demon, dipping her hand into the bowl and wetting the washcloth.

“Close your eyes.”

The demon obeyed, and Wednesday quickly got on cleaning the blood and dirt off her face and hair, and (Y/n)’s pointed ear twitched when the ravenette brushed over it gently.

“Tickles.”

The cloth slid over the demon’s collarbones, making (Y/n) open her lids, and she watched, unblinking and completely enamored, as Wednesday furrowed her brows in concentration. She didn’t speak after that again.

When Wednesday was finished, the water in the basin was of a rusty color, and (Y/n) could be considered clean enough – both of them were too tired for a proper bath. She’d just tell the demon to scrub herself extra hard tomorrow.

“Take your haori off and put this on.” The shorter girl gestured to the shirt, and stood up to put the water away.

(Y/n) tilted her head, looking over the black garment suspiciously, then proceeded to shrug her clothing off and put the shirt on, slipping her arms through the sleeves. Her claws caught at some stray threads, and the demon growled with annoyance. Wednesday watched the scene with a tired look before stepping closer to help the agitated girl.

“You’re a mess,” she scolded half – heartedly, untangling (Y/n)’s talons from the sleeves and fixing the shirt on her body, and the oni purred happily, “Now off to bed.”

The mattress dipped under the weight of the girls’ bodies, and Wednesday laid on her back, closing her eyes and wishing for sleep to take over as soon as possible. She felt the oni toss and turn beside her, before the demon rolled over to lay on her stomach and moved her hand to rest around Wednesday’s waist, pulling her smaller body closer. Satisfied with the position, the demon sighed in content and nuzzled Wednesday’s shoulder.

Oh, payback was going to be a bitch. But Wednesday will allow it. Just this once, she promised herself, she’ll suffer through this, as she pressed her cheek against the top of (Y/n)’s head.

“Good night, mia piccola cacciatrice.”

[pynkgothicka]

ＣＯＮＴＲＯＬ ＫＴＨ

Synopsis - You visit your boyfriend the night he told you explicitly not to come. (Part 2 of the Monster Series)

Pairing - Dark! Yandere Werewolf Kim Taehyung x Fem! Reader

Featuring - Alex Wolff (Get it. Wolf. Please Laugh)

Tags and Warnings - Violence, Hints to Sex, Cannibalism??, Monsters, Transformations

Authors Note - Choosing exactly how I wanted to portray Tae took years off my life.

A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!

Your boyfriends hands ran over your skin as he sucked hickies into your skin. You giggled at the ticklish feeling. You could hear him snickering into your neck.

“Why are you laughing?” He said coming up to look you directly in your eyes. This only made you laugh more. “Can't take a few kisses?”

“You know I'm ticklish!” You say smacking his shoulder jokingly. Taehyung laughed, his deep voice resounding in your small apartment.

“Why do you think I do it?”

“Because your weird.”

“Hey! That's not very nice now is it?” He replied turning away from you. You knew he was joking, but you still wrapped your arms around him, his chuckling being heard from next to you. He then turned back around to kiss your forehead sweetly, his arm rubbing at your side as you say in your bed together.

Then your attention shifted to the television seemingly mindlessly. “These mysterious maulings have only one connection. They appear on the night of full moons.” The female reporter said, meanwhile her male counterpart laughed.

“Looks like we have a werewolf on our hands dont we!”

“Werewolves aren't real, maybe a goblin!” Both reporters laugh it off before transitioning into talking about the weather.

Taehyung scoffed next to you, his eyes rolling. “Why are they joking about that shit?” His brows furrowed. You take his much larger hand in your own and kiss it. Taehyungs face shifted to one of fondness.

“Well, maybe they're trying to be lighthearted about it… either way it's still very wrong. But hey that has nothing to do with us.”

“Mhmm, of course. Now come on I really want to kiss you again.”

🐺

About a month passed after that and Taehyung grew distant for past few days. When you called him he picked up but sounded really stressed.

“Did I do something… to make you not want to be around me anymore?” You ask, sitting down on your couch in the living room of your apartment. Your best friend Alex sat next to you. He wanted to be there for you for support.

"No it wasn't you, it's all me. I just want some time alright?"

"A-Are you breaking up with me..."

“No! Of course not… I swear tomorrow night I can come visit you and everything. Just not tonight.” Taehyung said.

"Oh, I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions. It's just that you're not usually like this. You have me worr-"

"I fucking told you I'm fine." With that Taehyung hung up. That's all it took for you to make the decision. You had to go visit him.

🐺

The sun set as you and Alex pulled into his small house's driveway.

"Stay in the car, I should be right back." You said getting out of the passenger side. You went under the door mat to find the spare key to let yourself back in. Almost immediately something was off.

It was quiet. Taehyung's house, whenever you called wasn't quiet. He told you he can't sit in silence in fact it unnerves him. So he usually lets Jazz music play throughout his home. Besides he usually hangs in his living room, doing crossword puzzles and sudokus. Maybe even playing a video game.

But he was no where in sight.

Something you did hear was the faint tussling of chains.

Following the noise led you to Taehyungs bedroom. You opened the door, revealing a jarring sight. Taehyung was only in his boxers and was chained to his radiator in his room. “Tae! Hold on let me get you out of those!” You said seeing a key lying next to his body. Taehyungs eyes kept going back to look at the setting sun and raising moon.

“No! Stay back!” He yelled at you, letting out andeep gutteral growl and groan. He hunched over, sweat pouring down his body. You followed his order, mainly out of fear. “I don't want to hurt you… I told you to stay the fuck away!”

“W-Whats wrong? You have to tell me what's wr-” You were quickly cut off by a sharp bone crushing noise. Taehyung let out a scream, his nails digging into the wooden floor beneath you. You watched in horror as your boyfriend's body bent out of shape, his bones snapping in a horror like fashion. His face contorted into one of a snout and fur spouted from his skin.

Oh god.

Your boyfriend was a werewolf.

He was THE werewolf.

The beast huffed in front of you, his golden eyes piercing into your soul. Seeing you made him almost roar to life, with a new found strength he broke free of the chains. You stood there in shock for a minute as the form kept huffing.

Then he lunged.

Thats what made you begin to run. His house was small and simple, yet you could see the signs. The walls were covered in scratch marks. In fact even the floor is. But you couldn't focus on that, you had to keep moving.

You made it out of the front door and closed it on him. You quickly head down the porch, seeing that Alex was still in the car. He looked in shock as you got in the passenger seat. “Alex turn the car on.”

“W-What why? What's wrong?!” He yells back at you his eyes stuck on the front door as it bangs against its frame.

“Listen to me. We have to fucking go!” You yelled back. Then just at that moment, Taehyung bursts through the door, the hinges falling off completely. He charges towards your car, his body slamming against the front glass. You and Alex scream as Alex fumbles with the keys, dropping them between the center and his seat. Taehyungs golden eyes make direct contact with Alex and he seems to lose it further growling and clawing to be let in.

“So he can't get us… right?” Alex says, jinxing it as the glass cracks.

“Get in the back seat!” You say jumping to the back and pulling down the drink holder to crawl into the trunk. You have Alex climb in first then you.

Then you hear it.

The bending of metal followed by shrill scream. You look back and see Alex's body being dragged out of the trunk and slammed to the ground. That should've instantly killed him, you knew that. So whenever you're grabbed you begin to freak out, but your not slammed to the ground. You knew some semblance of Taehyung was in him.

The way he looked at you as you cried and cowered away from him.

But the moment was seemingly ruined by Alex letting out a loud cough. “Get away… from her.” He said breathing heavy. Taehyung looked at him before setting you down on the nearby ground, licking your cheek. He grabbed the bumper from your car, pulling it off like it was nothing. He wrapped it over you to seemingly keep you down. You were forced to watch as Taehyung stalk towards your dying friend.

Now you could get a better view at how Taehyung moved. He was like a ordinary man, but with wolfish features. Anytime he walked with an intent he walked on all fours. Like right now. Alex began to crawl away, his head bleeding and nose broken. “C-Come on Tae. It's me. Alex… Alex Wolff. You know me man…”

Taehyung looked at him, you watched as his hand twitched in aggravation. “He never… liked you.” You were taken aback as he spoke. Most importantly how deep it was compared to Taehyungs voice. You let out a yell as Taehyung caught up to Alex and began to slash at him, mauling him with both hands and mouth. You cried out in fear, feeling almost immediately weak at the sight. Once hes done and Alex is for sure gone, nothing but a mangled mess in fact, Taehyung comes back to you. His fur was coated in fresh blood.

“Mate… You were always so... pretty…” The beast mumbles, snout moving in a weird way to get out the words. You cried as he swats away the bent metal to pick up your form again. He brings you back to the inside of his home and sits you down on his couch. You keep your eyes on him, widen in fear at the possibility of his next move. He could kill you if he really wanted too.

But he doesn't. In fact he just lays down on couch resting his head in your lap. He licks at your hand “We love you. Do you still love us…”

You feel yourself choke on a few tears. “…yes…” The sad part is you weren't lying.

Let me know through a dm or ask to be included in my official Taglist- @darkuni63 @fangirl-death-rose @captainengineer-trixie @chimmisbae @iloverubberduckiez-blog @mageprincess7

[sol-kha-ne-lubri-if]

ros' reaction to mc having a hickey on their neck only to find out it's a mosquito bite later on?

Dear God you've been in inbox purgatory for a long while I'm so sorry, anyways, I'm gonna assume this is where they're crushing on you (not in a relationship) rather than the opposite lmao

AMBROSE ~

They've never been one to allow their siblings to deter them from doing whatever they please, so whyever would they stop now?

Especially when he has such a valid cause to it.

You see, it was your fault— that's what he was telling himself anyway. You just had to arrive in the dining hall with such a— such a blasphemous mark on your neck, proud for all to see, this should count as a slight against Baeurae! Fae knew you got around, that's not what was pissing them off about this whole thing...

It's the fact that you didn't approach them first of all.

Ambrose thought of himself as someone within your circle you could rely on, you know? Someone you— someone who could tell you which creatures were worth your time! You're an absolute beauty, everyone could be made aware of that just by looking at you! So why— why have you not told him a thing of what happened to lay such a— such an offensive thing on your skin?! What messy work it was as well, and how come there was only one? He really knew whoever had done it was a true loser then. If it were him, he would have pulled you in and not let you go until he could taste your—

"Mooooorning, you~" Ambrose hears Dottie chirp and he sits upright with his smile plastered upon his lips as though that was enough to prove to himself that he was perfectly fine with this— all of this. "Someone slept well, I denounce~!"

"If only!" you bemoan as you collapse into the chair and scratch at the mark on your neck. It's here that Ambrose sees just how upset you seemed to be, the way your body tenses so severely, the way your brow knits together, and you bury your nails into your own skin before Ambrose reaches out, making sure fae's hand was seen by you, and he carefully pulls your hand away before you scratch too deep. "My roommate— that dumbass— forgot to lock our godforsaken window the night before and a flupoflim wound up having gotten offensed by whatever dream they may have sensed of me and bit me right in the goddamn neck! I swear, I'm going to..."

"A flupoflim..." Ambrose repeats quietly to himself, biting his tongue to keep his smile from widening even further as he relaxes his hold on you far more, intertwining your fingers and slowly guiding you into his chest, his gloved thumb rubbing circles over the back of your palm as their cheek presses to your hair while you continue rambling about the pest in your room.

A small laugh shakes his chest, his eyes relaxing, half-listening to the way his sister plots with you on how to fume the flupoflims from the academy as he slowly raises your joint hands and drags his fingertips down from your palm to carefully brush against your pulsepoint.

"What a kerfuffle for my poor darling ditzy." Ambrose drawls, bring your wrist close to his face so he could press his lips to it, feeling the way your artificial heart beat inside. "Might I suggest a word of my own as remedy?"

Dottie ~

Dottie walks through the halls with her posse a few steps behind her, an idle smile on her expression as their voices carry through the grand halls, even though she had them step away from her so she could enjoy the peace and quiet to clear her thoughts. In moments as this, she would typically walk with you and your impecc-uliar companion. However, she doesn't know how much she can stand walking within your vicinity without wishing to slice at your neck and watch your good pour out like a fountain.

Maybe if she did that, the abomination on your neck would go away.

It was such a messy fucking job as well, it weren't even even, and you clearly didn't have that good a night if you were walking around with just one on your neck. If it were her, she would have mauled you for all to see! She would have tore at your neck until you'd have to be fixed up with stitches!

But no, apparently you decided you weren't good enough for her and you decided to go for some lowlife who clearly couldn't appreciate your beauty in the way she does—!

"—uite annoying, yeah." she's pulled out of her thoughts when she suddenly hears your voice around the corner, and she pauses, raising a brow as she hears your voice carried through the hall. "Maybe if you hadn't left the damn window open, I wouldn't be walking around with the bite of a flupoflim on my perfect skin! Do you even know just how itchy this fucking—!"

"It's a fly bite, calm down!"

"Of course YOU would be saying that, you're not the one who had gotten bitten by the damn thing— oh, Dottie?"

She had appeared around the corner with her books tucked below her chest and her hair gently blowing in nonexistent wind, before she strolls up to you with the air of majesty you came to know of (and expect) from her presence alone.

"There you are~ I was thinking of relaxing in the bathhouse whilst I set my books aside!" she chirps, stepping up to you and sliding a hand around your waist, pulling you close to her while she brushes her lips against your earlobe.

"Your friend is free to join us as well, if they so please~ In any case, I hear you have a flupoflim problem?"

She smoothly turns you and your companion around, allowing for said flupoflims to swoop in from the windows by her command to clean after the bodies their mistress had left behind, as well as all the ichorous organs that littered the floor.

She'd rather you not see such a distasteful sight~

Loriette Kei ~

"You've something there, I see." their face openly snarls at the sight of the offending mark on your neck, amidst the many other ones you allowed him to leave on you since it was his turn that day.

"I've a little something everywhere, if you couldn't tell." you respond dryly, feeling around your neck. He always mauled you, practically, as if he was trying to prove a point to his older sister and cousins. "You're not exactly the gentlest lover."

"Oh I can be gentle as a feather, you realize?" his strings envelop his body as his form shifts rapidly into a smaller one he was able to hop onto your shoulders with. "You don't give me many a reason to be gentle, is all. You're so... difficult sometimes, and by that, I mean any which time. Whatever you do or see that I may never think to be," their tail brushes against the bottom of your chin before they hop off your shoulder to sit on your lap, shifting back into his doll form to lean forward and pin you against the bed, a bit of their inky-black seeping through the cracks and running down his skin. "Is somehow always something you so readily use against me."

"I'm just looking out for whatever I deem to decree." you respond, your head resting back against the soft sheets of your dorm bed. You didn't often like sleeping in a bed that wasn't your own, after all, your bed was definitely the comfiest in the academy, and you were sure of that. "Now would you please tell me?"

"This," Loriette keeps himself hovered over your body while his strings reach forth to slowly wrap around your neck, the ends tickling against the mark he had seen earlier before they disappear, and his face is streaked with more of the void he kept inside himself.

"Oh, ugh. That." you roll your eyes and tilt your head to the window that allows you to look over sonder at the many bodies below your dorm. "My dormmate, Stesmi pray for them, didn't close the window before sleeping the night before, a flupoflim came and—"

Loriette Kei interrupted you by bursting out laughing, and rolling off and onto your bed, covering his face in one hand while his tail swished to and fro. A flupoflim... he had gotten jealous over one of those nasty little buggers.

"Hey, hey... forgive me, dearly, I weren't laughing at you per say, truly." he was quick to pull you close when he saw you were about to leave the bed, still chuckling over your pouty expression before burying his face into your neck.

"My... what am I to do with you, dear Alice?"

Lorelei Kei ~

"Oh that's a nasty piece of work, I see..."

She was the first person you thought to go to regarding your bite. Your companion had forgotten to close the window all the way last night before falling asleep and a flupoflim had entered and bit you since it... apparently didn't like your dream or something of that sort? Whatever, honestly. You wanted it gone, it was itching like a motherfucker.

"Right? I can hardly even remember what I were fucking dreaming about! I swear, the one time I decide to indulge myself and this is what happens!" you complain, moving your hair out of the way to allow her to get a better look at the bite you had received for daring to dream.

It wasn't even fucking worth it either, the dream wasn't even worth noting enough to remember.

"I've a salve if you wish to apply that. I'm terribly sorry for the flupoflims, I know I've squashed a good few against my neck for such a transgression before." she offers with a small frown, pulling a small bottle from her dress pocket before she tips it turvy against her fingers and a small bit drips out.

"You're an absolute darling, Lorelei Kei. Honestly, I'd adore for you to do this for me, thank you kindly..." you sigh, shivering when you feel her fingers massaging the bite on your neck. "You made this yourself then?"

"Mm... yes, yes I did." she responds, feeling her lips curl up a little as she carefully sits down before you, and she makes sure the salve is spread evenly along the bite. "It's a simple mixture, really. My noveur told me the importance of not relying all on my strings to heal... though that was more so because the way my strings heal is a bit grotesque. Not that I care."

"Why did you create a salve if you don't care then?"

She doesn't respond for a moment, lifting her hand once the salve was applied and blowing gentle air to the area to help it dry a little better, making you gulp.

"Because you might think my healing ways are grotesque."

Nadia ~

"You can't ignore me forever." you tell her firmly, watching as she continues to work at her desk, writing a letter to her kingdom's form of government in her room.

"Nadia, this is childish."

"No it isn't." she says simply, standing up from her desk and grabbing a bowl of fruits she hadn't yet touched before she tosses it in front of you, the spinning bowl filling her dorm with an unpleasant sound as it, miraculously, doesn't begin multiplying by the dozens or growing bigger. Then again, that was also likely because she was wearing her gloves.

"Yes it is— you're even responding like a child." you tell her with a small frown, tilting the bowl towards you to look at its contents before settling on a berry that had nearly fallen out. "Had I committed a slight against you once more? Add onto mine list of many that you refuse to tell me? Look, I'm well aware that my beauty's been known for rendering others speechless, but—"

"I am the one acting childish. I would like to keep acting childish."

Oh, you didn't expect her to just outright admit it. You watch as she sits down about a cushion away from you. "What are you—"

"That mark on your neck," he mentions, nodding her head towards you, making you lift a hand up to what you knew she was talking about. "It's... disgusting. I don't want to look at it. I want to be upset as I refuse to look at it. You are making me upset."

"Nadia, this is a mere—"

"I know what it is," they interrupt you, biting their tongue before sighing as he looks away. "But... please, just don't say anything, or I may die of mortification. I'm usually much better at controlling my own emotions. But that... that thing on your neck— I know what it is, rationally, but even knowing this, just the sight of it, the implication of what it could be, I'm sick of it."

You stare at her a moment, your lips quirking up as you realize why she isn't looking at you. She isn't actually mad... what she really is makes you pop the berry in your mouth, giving you an excuse to shut up.

"... Please, get rid of it...?"

"... I will, so long as you help me."

Noré ~

What on earth had been getting into her these days...

She found herself at your beck and call much more earnestly than they first believed themself to be, first of all. This wasn't anything new, they had done this with anyone and everyone that had passed by them that hallway.

What was getting to him now was that... thing, thing on your neck. It was terribly ugly. It didn't suit you. He would know what suits you and what doesn't, he's completely memorized the sort of style you adore so dearly.

He found himself glued to your side, hanging onto your every word as you speak, your hand repeatedly reaching up to rub at the spot he was eyeing and everytime you did, she felt the pit in her stomach grow wider and wider until it felt as though it would swallow her whole.

"Must you be so enamoured with whatever it is that has you recalling as you rub that?" it slips out of their mouth before they can even think to keep it inside. "You realize that I'm in your company, yes? How terribly rude of you to treat a ruler this way, I ought to try you for—"

"Treason?" you finish, shaking your head. You didn't believe him. Of course you didn't, they never gave you any reason to believe in his words, ever. "Alright, Mocking Turtle. Riddle me this—"

"I'm no hatter, but go on and riddle me what." he responds blandly, hands clenched around her own wrists behind their own back. "Riddle me how?"

"Lethargic eyes and weary bones, they try to rest yet nature would oppose," you reach up to rub the area again. "A draft to fill, the moon to shine, whatever could float decides offense to a dream of mine. Whatever does it do?"

"... Indeed, whatever does it do?"

"It bites you." you respond with a small groan. "Fucking windows and dormmates and... ugh, it's absolutely killing me."

"Oh, no, I don't believe it so." Noré responds from beside you. "For if it were truly killing you, you'd be but flesh and bone."

"You jest, but it truly feels as though the ichor were being—" you cut yourself off as you look to them again, the way they smile feels a bit more relaxed than before. "And what's suddenly got you in such a good mood?"

He blinks at your words, his eyes no longer smiling, though his lips stretch upwards a bit more. "Indeed, whatever does?" they hum, keeping step with you and linking your arms together, tugging you closer to their side as they do.

"Whatever, I suppose you've riddled me true."

[1moremilgram-enjoyer]

Okay hold on you know that name on Kotoko's cap in HARROW? Jacques Roulet?

I always thought that was just a brand or something, but I looked it up and- it's a story about a supposed werewolf that killed a child?! Kotoko what the fuck-

CW Gruesome murder, werewolves (???), clinical lycanthropy (?), mentions of drugs

Okay so here are the sources I'm using for this:

-WordPress by Jim McNeill

-Monstrous.com

Because this shit so obscure it doesn't even have a Wikipedia page.

Here's a summary of the story, though be warned, it's gruesome.

Basically, a few villagers in Angers, France, found the warm corpse of a fifteen year old boy being mauled by two wolves. The boy's father was the first to run up after his screams were heard, apparently. They chased the wolves off, but after they lost track of them, they found Jacques Roulet, half naked. He had long hair and beard, and his hands were dyed in fresh blood, his nails "long as claws."

Roules was "a beggar from house to house", and had been staying in a neighbouring village with his brother John and his cousin Julien, though he'd disappeared eight days before the murder. He admitted to having killed the boy by smothering him, and that the only reason he didn't fully eat the corpse was because the wolves scared him off.

In court, he claimed when he rubbed an ointment given to him by his parents on his skin, he could turn into a wolf. He claimed his hands and feet were those of a wolf when he killed the child, but he wasn't sure what his head looked like. He also claimed to have killed many more children. Adittionally, he said his brother and his cousin were the (other?) two wolves at the scene, but his parents actually proved the two had an alibi. You know, in case anyone was considering whether or not that was true.

He was originally sentenced to death, but he managed to appeal it, and in the end his sentence was reduced to staying two years in a mental institution.

The WordPress article mentions the salve Jacques claimed to rub on himself could have possibly had hallucinogenic properties, or alternatively, it's possible his diet included bread infected by the Ergot fungus, which contains chemicals similar to LSD and can also cause hallucinations. This can serve as a possible explanation for his belief of being a werewolf.

... What the fuck does this have to do with Kotoko.

Like, okay, I get the werewolf thing. She's a furry, we get it. But, she doesn't kill children though. If anything, one would assume the one supposed to be Jacques is Kotoko's victim, the dude that killed ten middle school children. But he's not the one wearing the cap, and he's... okay he's sorta connected to wolves.

It's always looked to me like his shadow vaguely resembles a wolf's snout, but maybe I'm just going crazy.

I honestly don't really know what the deal is with this. My best guess is that the HARROW serial killer is meant to be Jacques, since Kotoko believes he deserved death (as evidenced by the fact she killed him) like the original sentence given to Jacques. Maybe you can read into something about the murdered boy's father in the Angers story being the first to find the body, if you're inclined to believe one of the HARROW killer's victims was part of Kotoko's family. Or maybe the idea of two wolves scaring off Jacques? Like, Kotoko and some kind of partner in vigilantism?

?

I got no idea. The issue with that is that the wolves in the Jacques story also ended up mauling the boy's corpse, but maybe that's not 100% off-brand? Seeing her distorted quote in the second trial voice reveal trailer.

[Kotoko] From the beginning I've never asked for your understanding! My actions, one by one, are bringing Earth closer to peace. Useless Weaklings should just shut up and let me protect them!

Uh, yeah, I don't know.

I feel inclined to point out, regarding that last point, the line that plays when she first shows off the cap is:

Feeding on food so I don't burn out

Which is- not the greatest line to say as you show off a cap referencing a story about mauling a fifteen year old. (And yes I do think the Japanese lyric explicitly references eating)

To be clear, the cap is in other scenes: at the end of the second verse before the pre-chorus-

[HARROW] Shall we replace the poor soul, and the miserable delusion “I didn’t mean to offend”, “I won’t do it again” How many wins in a row?

-and at the very end, where it infamously lays on the ground right next to the murder scene.

But it's still introduced with the line about eating, which I find worrying.

I really am not sure what's going on with this one. If any Kotoko scholars out there have better ideas, please let me know, because I am very curious to know what the deal with this is. Take care!

[tarisilmarwen]

Rebels Rewatch: "Visions And Voices"

Maul returns to be a menace and freak both me and Ezra out.

Obligatory "I've already done a live reaction version of this episode" link.

From the very beginning, with just the washed out dingy lighting and the whooshing wind sound effect, this episode already feels unsettling. The atmospheric touches here with the storm and lightning and the camera movement and shot choice once things start happening evoke a horror movie.

The way they have Hera's voice fading out and going watery every time Maul calls to Ezra, the way Ezra keeps squinting and blinking and the tiny headshake he gives like he's trying to shake off some fatigue or jerk himself alert, make himself stop seeing things...

He looks so frightened. :(

COURSE I DON'T BLAME HIM WITH THE APPARITION OF MAUL LOOKING LIKE THIS.

Kanan and Zeb both trying to shake him awake after he faints. <3

I mentioned in my original liveblog but this episode gives me major Teen Titans 2003 "Haunted" vibes, with the plotline about a character being menaced by an imaginary villain only they can see. Rebels ultimately diverged from that parallel but my mental "If I had a nickel for every time" associations linger.

Something I loved about this episode was just how present everyone was for Ezra, how worried and concerned they were over him. Like here, all the members of the crew, even Chopper, are crowded in Kanan's room waiting for him to wake up.

Subtle animation appreciation moment: How Ezra touches the back of his neck like he's trying to rub out some stiffness or ache.

Oh hang on, did I just stumble across another Kanera-Sabezra mirror?

I DID! :D

Getting a little ahead of myself though, gotta appreciate this moment here with Ezra's fond little smile as Sabine bullies AP-5 about the munitions they're taking.

Also Sabine's "Can you believe this guy?" look lol.

Sabine immediately knows to send Chopper for Kanan. (Oh look, the two of them being the Most Important People in Ezra's life again. :D)

Sabine is very worried and alarmed this whole scene. She knows this isn't like him and oh ouch there are those Teen Titans "Haunted" feels come back to stab me again.

It's not actually clear what Maul was doing with this whole making-Ezra-see-him-everywhere trick--and you know it was deliberate, Ezra wasn't getting anything useful out of his end of the mind bond--but honestly the visions going unexplained are effectively creepy and unsettling enough. Personally I think it was one part to scare Ezra, make him doubt himself and his own mind, make him and everyone else think he was going crazy, and one part to manipulate him into doing something horrible he'd regret so that the Rebels would cast him out and drive him to Maul.

:((((

Hera understandably takes Ezra off the mission in light of events and heads it up herself. There's very soft worried mom energy radiating off her in this scene.

I'm kind of amazed Kanan and Sabine putting a tracker on Ezra without telling him didn't get any rancid takes complaining about how ~cLeArLy tOxIc~ it was. Maybe people actually remembered the part of Ezra's characterization where he tends to impulsively go off half-cocked to save people and figured, "Oh, Kanan's taking some obvious precautions in case he does that." Or maybe they decided given two previous kidnapping attempts Kanan was allowed a little paranoia over his kid.

Aaaaaaand this is the first we've heard Ezra's theme in a while.

(Note: Sabine has already painted one of Ezra's new Scout Trooper helmets, which he decides to wear to see Bendu. Even though the last time they rode the speeder into the Bendu's hollow he didn't bother wearing a helmet at all. Upgraded your comfort item/security blanket metaphor there, Ezra, eh?)

Full on horror strings here as we pan up to Maul just chilling like a creeper at the top of the hollow.

The way Ezra almost steps between Maul and Kanan. <3

Something I loved this episode was Ezra consistently rejecting Maul's attempts to touch him, smacking or shoving his hand off his shoulder, deliberately stepping away and keeping a distance.

Since a straightforward request was denied, Maul resorts to blackmail, threatening to broadcast the location of the base to the Empire and oof, Ezra's face.

Maul then dangles the "key to defeating the Sith" carrot in front of them, which activates Ezra's Hero Complex and hyper-responsibility and is what makes him agree to go. See, Maul is his responsibility, it's his fault Maul is even after them in the first place, so Ezra feels a sense of obligation to take care of him as a personal problem.

Love how Kanan says Phoenix Squadron will just wholecloth pack up and move to a new base in order to keep Ezra safe. I don't think it works like that Kanan, lol, but the spirit is appreciated.

Ezra's awfully confident that Maul won't hurt him and, ngl, that is not a risk I would have taken. But Kanan decides to trust Ezra and so the snippet of Ezra's theme that's been playing (marking his gesture of self-sacrifice) gives way to the same cue that played when Vader was descending on top of the TIE Advanced in "Twilight of the Apprentice", kind of an auditory callback to Malachor and the start of this whole arc.

Sabine's already getting the Phantom II prepped. <3

Dathomir looks appropriately hellish. Twisted gnarled trees, barren rocks, broken architecture, drenched in deep red with fog obscuring the horizon.

It's subtle at first and grows more obvious as the episode carries on but Maul is a little bit, ah... bipolar in his actions and displays of emotion here. He oscillates between speaking calmly, growling in frustration, outright snapping at Ezra sometimes, cackling to himself randomly, and of course dropping his voice down into that soft, vulnerable cadence that's his go-to whenever he wants to garner and play to Ezra's sympathies. Ezra takes his erratic behavior in stride, for the most part, doesn't flinch or comment on Maul's mood swings.

Really do love the environment work Rebels does. <3

Ezra flippantly dismissing Maul's murder hoard as "junk" lol.

"Fun" easter egg to note: The scrawled Mand'oa on the wall spells KENOBI.

Aaaaaaand our introduction of the plot device that is the darksaber, displayed prominently under a cubist painting of Satine, whose theme plays as Ezra examines the darksaber. This reference is pure fanservice for TCW fans. It basically means nothing to me emotionally, I was never a fan of Satine or her romance with Obi-Wan, so mostly I just feel offended and creeped out on her behalf that a painting of her got hauled to Maul's murder cave and defaced.

(Interesting to note that the slashes of... paint?... blood?... stuff crosses out Satine's eyes and cuts her throat. Is Maul reveling in his murder of her, trying to relive it by destroying her image? Did he stub out her eyes to stop her from "staring" at him? Who knows.)

Okay I lied, Ezra flinches precisely once, right after Maul yells at him not to touch the darksaber.

I like to think it was possibly calling out to him, the kyber crystal inside a natural siren song to Force wielders, and that's how Ezra knows it's some kind of lightsaber and not just a weird stick.

Love the drums in this music cue. It's got some exotic-sounding eastern instruments in it too, I think I might hear a bit of didgeridoo?

Subtle animation appreciation moment: How Ezra screws up his face in preparation to down the potion, it obviously doesn't smell or taste very good lol.

The music turns frantic and rushing when we cut the Sabine and Kanan landing out, like it's telling them to hurry. More exotic instruments, some kind of tinny percussion, cymbals maybe?

Right, so this episode was clearly another Halloween special right? Has all the perfect trappings of one lol.

Maul strays into Dangerously Genre Savvy here; he never intended to pay for using the Nightsisters' magick himself and his dialogue to Ezra seems to indicate he didn't intend to sacrifice Ezra to them either. So his plan was either to evade the spirit witches long enough to get away scott free, or he was counting on other members of the Spectres to come after Ezra trying to save him.

Either way, it leads to one of the creepiest scenes in the show.

Subtle animation appreciation moment: The bewildered way Kanan's head jerks around right before the Nightsister spirit possesses him, like he can tell that something freaky is there but he can't tell what or where.

The unnatural character movement the animators use for Possessed!Kanan and Possessed!Sabine is really good; they're limp like puppets for a bit before the spirits take full control, and even afterwards move in jerky, inhuman motions.

And thus a half-dozens angst!fics were written lol. (And still not nearly enough.)

Ngl, Maul technically does show Ezra how to save his friends buuuuut he gets no points for that since he clearly thought Ezra would just write them off and come with him.

I'm still amazed he didn't just kidnap him right there. Kenobi obsession too strong I guess.

Other people have already pointed out the irony of Maul screaming at Ezra to forget the past and his attachments while himself being obsessed with the past and clearly trying to use Ezra as a Replacement Goldfish for Savage but I'll mention that anyway.

You know, the Fridge Horror of this episode is really unsettling. I know at least one fanficcer and @better-call-mau1 have asked the question of how, exactly, does possessing Kanan and Sabine allow the Nightsisters to rebuild their clan? They're either going to use Kanan and Sabine to perform some kind of freaky necromancy ritual, use them to lure other Rebels in (seems like it'd have limited effectiveness, eventually Rebel Command would decide retrieval isn't worth it), or they would rebuild the clan using more... ah... conventional means.

Add that unsettling thought to how possessed Sabine seems to stalk Ezra, specifically, while the possessed Kanan returns to the altar and fkhkhffjhjhgggfgjjjj--

Yeah.

"That doesn't belong to you!" "Then take it from me, Jedi!" Are they talking about the darksaber or Sabine's body?

...Yes.

This music cue is amazing. Possessed Sabine scrabbling on the ground like a feral animal while Ezra just calmly Force Pushes her out of the threshold is excellently staged.

Well that's a heart eyes expression if I ever saw one lol.

Sometimes I like to listen to different language tracks for specific dramatic parts of shows or movies, to see how other actors do it, compare performance notes and kjsahfkajshfkajh one of the Chinese Nightsister-possessed Kanans was one of the most horrifying scary things I've ever heard.

This scene is just heartwrenching. A lot of this episode was spoiled in the trailers so this maybe didn't have as much dramatic impact as it should have had at the time but I still found it pretty gut-punching. A little short, maybe. That's about it.

This is one of Ezra's finer moments, frankly, outsmarting and defeating the Nightsister spirits. You really feel the care he has for Kanan. Love it. <3

From the moment Ezra said that the answer to destroying the Sith was "Obi-Wan Kenobi" I think I knew it was a false flag and what Maul had manipulated him to see. Because, obviously, they key is Luke.

Interesting how Ezra thinks if Obi-Wan doesn't, eventually, fight, that the Sith can't be stopped. He's pinning a lot of hopes on a man who doesn't, ultimately, wind up being the narrative Chosen One who accomplishes that task. Again, more on that later in "Twin Suns".

Ezra seems to pay Sabine a glance as he passes, aww.

*PORTENTS OF CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT*

This episode is one of my favorites, and the "Haunted" mental connections are only one of the reasons why. It's got great dialogue, creepy suspense, adorable subtle Sabezra moments, furthering of Maul's slow mental degradation and descent into full ruin, and Ezra gets to be amazingly self-sacrificing, brave, and awesome in it. What's not to love?

[helpinghanikan]

Domestic Bliss

Konig x reader, John (Soap) MacTavish x Simon (Ghost) Riley

Sum:

Sometimes operators take a quick break during a mission. So, why not spend that break at your house? You and Konig get to be a happy couple, so why not Johnny and Simon?

This isn’t the first time a campaign has failed. It happens, but that doesn’t make it any less annoying. Especially when you can’t go home immediately after.

“We can’t get them every time,” Laswell said when Ghost, Konig, and Soap returned to base. “But we have his tail and he’s on the run. I’m going to need you all to stay close until we got him in our sights again.”

“How long are we thinking?” Soap asks, more out of curiosity than a want to go home.

For Ghost and Soap home was wherever the other was. So long as they kept it out of paperwork and didn’t outright maul each other during a mission neither Price nor Laswell cared about their relationship. It wasn’t the first-time love was found on the battlefield, a ring on Laswell’s finger was proof of that.

Konig, on the other hand, had somewhere to be.

“I can’t say. It’s going to be at least a few days. I’ll see about getting some barracks set up for you two. Showers should be open up already.” She said, conversation over with the turning of her back.

Ghost didn’t think much about Konig hanging back in Laswell’s office. A quick swat to his backside told him that no one was around and that Soap would see him later. Another action that he didn’t think much about. The only thing that matters now is the showers and clean underwear. Maybe a bed softer than the ground but that might be asking for too much.

There was nothing really special about the target they were after. Just another cartel “boss” that was destined to be arrested by authorities or killed by the actual boss. It was only through a sudden wave of brutality that the 141 was brought in. Followed a trail through several countries until they barely nipped at the target’s heels. At least they torched the makeshift compound he left behind.

Under lukewarm water Ghost let himself become bare. It’s easier to wash off someone else’s blood when not wearing a mask. It’s now that he can remove the image of the Ghost. He can be Simon, even if it’s while hiding under a subpar shower.

“Simon, you in?” Johnny’s voice calls through the bathroom.

Simon makes a hmm noise loud enough to be heard. He didn’t need to invite Johnny in, zippers were already being pulled down and clothing was getting removed rather quickly.

“There he is,” Johnny says, moving the curtain and stepping into the cubicle.

It took time and patients before Simon was comfortable with Johnny stepping in so casually. Even longer before Johnny could just press against Simon’s back without him tensing up. Now look at them; practically spooning in the shower.

“Nothing more romantic than a military bath,” Johnny says, having to practically stand on his toes to get some water over his head.

“Doubt the motel’s going to be any better,” Simon replied, eyes still closed.

“Not to worry about that, Babe. Königs’ got us covered.” Johnny places an open mouth kiss on the back of Simon’s neck. But that didn’t stop Simon from practically wheeling around.

“What do you mean?” Simon asked, black from his leftover face paint running down his cheeks like poorly applied makeup.

“König and the misses have a house not too far from here. He figured we’d prefer his guestroom over whatever motel Price considers ‘suitable’.” Soap says with air quotes over the word suitable. It’s only then that Johnny seems to remember Simon was a part of this. “Sorry, I should have gotten your input first. How’d feel about stopping by?”

Simon turns back towards the water as if it’s no big deal.

“Plans are already made, it seems. Let’s see how the giant lives.” Simon says, rubbing away the last of his face paint.

It’s almost funny how different Simon and Johnny were in their civilian lives. Simon had long ago given up on the idea of being a civilian. He was the Ghost, a lieutenant, and a badass when on the field. When off the field he was a lone wolf, the quiet guy in the superstore, and the big man you cross the street to avoid walking past.

Johnny, on the other hand, could make a friend in an empty room. The favorite uncle to his nieces and nephews. He’s that nice man who can grab things from the shelf at the store. Few social events are complete until John McTavish makes an appearance. It should be no surprise that Johnny became König’s friend, it was more of a surprise that it took so long to be invited for dinner.

-

You have to strain to hear the Jeep pulling into your driveway. There was no need to take a peek out of the window. Your shared home was a good ten-minute drive from the highway. Through trees and past farms no one pulls into your driveway on accident.

Your name is called out when the front door opens. Followed shortly by the thumping of shoes and soft talking of your guests.

“Nice place, König. Pretty far out from anything, though.” Comments an Irish accent.

“Not everyone wants to live ass to ass with their neighbors. It’s a pretty good location.” Adds in a British accent.

It wasn’t like König to invite “co-workers” home for the weekend. With Kortac you only got to meet Horangi, and that was probably so you’d have someone to call if something happened. This was likely a similar scenario.

“Darling,” König says when you round the corner to the front room.

He must have changed before leaving the base. It wasn’t like König could go about civilian life while wearing a sniper’s hood. Instead, he wears a mask or balaclava when he feels it’s necessary. This is almost exclusively when he heads into the city or has to stop by more populated areas. In his line of work being recognized could result in something awful. The likely hood of being recognized countries away from enemies is rare but not impossible.

You don’t care or worry about the guests still standing in the doorway. Not when your man is coming towards you with a smile that lights up his eyes. König removes his mask in a simple motion as he walks towards you. Leaning down for a kiss that you plant on him gently, but still insist on putting your arms around his neck.

König’s always been a mountain of ice when he gets home. König liked his AC and it was usually blasting throughout the car and house wherever he was. Supposedly it helps keep him awake when driving or doing paperwork. More likely than not he just wanted an excuse to drag you in for a cuddle.

You’re too focused on your own man to hear the small conversation happening at the door.

“Why don’t you kiss me like that?” The Irish man asked.

“Shut up.” Whispered the Brit, although no malicious could be heard in his voice.

The is never as long as you want it to be. But, it has to end, and you are refocused on your still-waiting guests.

“I’m so sorry, it’s nice to meet you.” You say to the two men, reaching out a hand towards them and giving your name.

“Likewise, Ma’am.” The Irish man says, taking your hand. “I’m John McTavish, and this is Simon. We work with König at the 141, he’s a good man.”

“You don’t have to tell me that.” You say, nodding towards Simon who reciprocates. “I take it you’re both operators, too. Königs’ told me a few things. It’s nice to meet the people watching his back.”

You instruct both John and Simon to make themselves at home. Directing towards the living room and bar that’s hardly used for company. “It’s stocked, so help yourselves.” You said, following your man when he disappeared into the kitchen.

“Is everyone you hang out with so damn tall?” You can’t help but ask.

“No, it’s just luck. I seem to attract them.” König says, putting his head through his apron’s top.

“You don’t have to cook,” You say, but have already walked around him to tie up the back. “I was just going to order in.”

Ordering in and grabbing food as you’re going to whenever König was away. He did most of the cooking in your household. Recipes passed down from his mother and father kept you fed through most of the year. This isn’t to say you couldn’t handle yourself but, who would choose cooking over someone doing that for you? “It’s a tradition, don’t take this from me,” König explains. “Does spaghetti sound good? I don’t have time to do anything too complicated.”

“Do your thing, babe. Whatever it is I’m looking forward to it.” You reply, swatting his backside while heading out from the kitchen.

König was not the kind of guy you can cook alongside. More than once you’ve asked if there was anything you could do to help. And, more than once, König was hypercritical of your culinary skills. Mainly micromanaging how to cut vegetables.

That was the closest you’ve ever come to stabbing him.

Back in the living room John and Simon sat side by side on the couch. Simon leaning against the couch’s arm. His own arm rested over the back and, if he wanted, he could easily wrap it around John’s shoulders. John sat with a casual hand on Simon’s thigh. Both of the men holding glasses of dark liquid.

“So, what’re we drinking?” You ask, already at the bar.

“Bourbon,” Simon said raising his glass in an almost toast.

“Scotch for me. But I won’t judge you too harshly if you go with the whiskey.” John explains.

You went with neither. Picking your own preferred brand from the bottom of the bar. Far enough down that König wouldn’t accidentally clean out your alcohol.

“How long have you and König been married?” John asks.

“It’s barely been a year, but we’ve lived together before. I had to make sure the relationship would survive your line of work.” You explained.

Of course, it was quite a bit more complicated than that. You didn’t mention how it took months before König came clean about his job. That you didn’t believe him at first. And you certainly didn’t talk about how König was more scared of a relationship than anyone with a gun could ever make him.

The truth was it hurt every time your husband had to leave. It didn’t matter whether you had a day’s notice or a month’s notice. You held him close on those mornings and tried your hardest to convince him to stay. Of course he couldn’t but at least you had tried.

It wasn’t as if you were always available, either. Your own work, relationships, and life made this entire marriage feel a bit like an afterthought. More than once you’ve come home to König asleep on the couch. His feet hanging off the end and one of your pets sleeping on his chest.

“How long have you two been together?” You ask with a casual drink.

Johnny and Simon have a few seconds of interaction in the time it takes you to drink. Johnny squeezing Simon’s thigh and getting no reaction made the answer to your question.

“Not too long, either. But being too open about it makes work more than a little complicated. Anyway, you know about our work, what do you do? I can’t see you as a ‘oh, when will my husband come home,’ type of gal.” Johnny asks, leaning forward to emphasize who was expected to talk next.

It’s not often you find a real people person working in the military-industrial complex. Johnny was a rare case, even in the 141. True, he didn’t have the humor like Gaz or the unquestionable charm like Price. Even Simon had the tall, dark, and handsome vibe to him. All that was nothing compared to Johnny’s ability to simply be nice and know when to change the subject.

König was as skilled in the kitchen as in the field. Simple spices and meats added to store-bought sauce has an amazing effect on spaghetti. Even more so when the popping of a bottle rings through the house and you have to comment; “He has this special brand his mother got us. It’s so special that he keeps it on the highest shelf when I need to stand on the counter to reach it. Marriage isn’t always perfect, you know?”

Simon could understand that sentiment. Truth was he and Johnny were barely past the two-year anniversary of their relationship. But fighting alongside your partner in life-or-death situations can make that time feel so much faster. In Simon’s mind they were already an old married couple, only difference being his ass was still firm.

Dinner is served family style at the table. König setting out plates and bread as you came in to help him. Grabbing napkins and utensils without being asked or really thinking about it.

“Why don’t you cook for me?” Simon whispered to Johnny while they walked into the dinning room.

“For the same reason you don’t kiss me.” Johnny retorted, happy that Simon seemed to have relaxed somewhat.

It wasn’t as if Simon was some feral dog Johnny decided to adopt one day. Simon was a grown man who understood at least basic social expectations, but time and trauma had made him somewhat rusty. It made him quiet when around anyone but friends or colleges. What answers you were going to get out of him were short and sharp, wanting to reach the point as quickly as possible.

Anyone could sense this want of solitude coming off of Simon. It’s why most of the conversation took place between Johnny and yourself. König sometimes adding in but letting you handle a majority of the conversation. Content to simply eat the spaghetti and listen to the people around him.

“-So he’s holding my shirt and walking me backwards real slow. He’s not that much bigger than me but the size matters with that sort of thing.” Johnny tells his story with enthusiasm. Holding onto the front of his shirt for emphasis. “But, before we get too close to the edge, the cunt gets taken out by none other than the Ghost.”

It’s hard to see Simon’s face from where you sit at the table. The vase of flowers König had got you not too long ago blocked a clear view of Simon. The veteran operator likely sat there specifically to block your view.

You could imagine that he was smiling though. Johnny reaches his arm over Simon’s shoulders and gives him a squeeze. Had they been in private it’s not hard to imagine that the squeeze might also include a kiss.

“Sounds like you’re a pretty good sniper, Simon.” You say, speaking directly to Simon for the first time that night. “Unfortunately, I know for a fact that my König here is the better shot. Sniping or otherwise.”

“Oh no, Darling. Please don’t involve me in this.” König says with his hands up as if to surrender.

“We’ll test each other later, don’t you worry about that,” Simon says, his fort spinning over his plate.

It’s downright domestic how Johnny volunteered to help you with the dishes. König made a move to help instead but was practically glared back to his seat. If you let him he’d do everything around the house. Guilt from his work has that effect on him.

“How is Simon doing?” You asked Johnny, hoping that the wall and running sink were enough to hide your voice.

“He’s Simon, there’s no need to worry about him. Trust me, if he had a problem with you, he’d let you know.” Johnny replies. “How are you doing? I know that we pretty much barged into your house without warning.”

“König called me before you showed up, so not completely unannounced. It really is nice to see who has my husband’s back. It makes being without him a lot easier, I might even be able to relax next time.” You explain.

“You worry about him too much?” Johnny asks, glancing out the door towards your partners.

“I wouldn’t say too much, just a healthy amount. It’s not enough to stop me from doing things, but don’t tell König. All he’ll hear is that I’m worried and we don’t need that.” You say, being sure to stay close to the running sink while saying this.

“He won’t hear anything from me,” Johnny promises.

Johnny, Simon, and König resided in a world that you simply couldn’t understand. At most, you could get a few peaks in through the complaints or stories they choose to tell. Unlike you, they didn’t make too much of a habit of thinking about the future. For König he only felt safe thinking about the present and how he can best get back to you. Simon never saw himself with a real future, at no point in his life did he have a goal besides survival.

Johnny was different as he actually thought about the future. At first, it was just to be the best soldier in the field and as high ranked as he could get. Then Johnny met Simon and his goals turned into a heart-shaped plan. One that involved buying a house and maybe a dog that Simon would approve of. Knowing Simon it would be a German Shepard or two.

Johnny’s life plan shifted ever so slightly throughout the night. It glowed pink as he watched you and König share a drink. He looks out to Simon, smoking his cigarette on the back porch, and can see the one and only future he wants. One where Simon is safe and on Johnny’s lap as much as possible.

“I need to call my mother before it gets too late.” König practically declared around the nine pm mark. He leans over the chair and says; “I promise not to be too long.” He then looks up to Simon and Johnny. “The spare room is down the hall. I doubt sharing will be a problem for you.”

“I’ll show you,” You say while standing.

The guest room was the last thing decorated in the house. After taking your time to decorate the house most of your creativity went into the other rooms. Leaving the guest room looking almost bare. A King-sized bed with blue sheets and curtains to match. Two side tables and an armoire were the only things that could be considered decorations.

Johnny interrupts before you can apologize for the drab decorations.

“It could have stuffed ponies and this room would be better than some motel,” Johnny said.

“Or a motel,” Added Simon already opening his overnight bag.

“Glad to hear it, but I’ll see if I can find some stuffed ponies for you. Have a good night, gentlemen.” You say, making an almost show of closing the door behind you.

-

Simon was past the point in his life where sex seemed more important than it was. Able to pull out his pajamas, brush his teeth, and let Soap do the same before making a move.

“Hold on, hold on,” Johnny moaned after his face was grabbed.

Simon restrained himself enough for Johnny to lock the door. Turning back to Simon and this time leaning into the kiss that demanded so much more.

Simon still had some of his tricks from his barracks bunny days. Knowing that men like Johnny loved to plow their partners but only with said partner’s enthusiastic consent. Moaning out his wants and begging for more was never Simon’s forte. He was the ordering type, a real power bottom, that gave orders as easy as he would in the field.

“Lay down,” He ordered, walking Johnny back until gravity takes control.

Shirtless, straddling Johnny’s waist, Simon held Johnny’s jaw with a grip. His strength was only matched by the hold Johnny had on Simon’s ass.

“Mmm, just like that.” Simon moans, leaning forward so they are chest-to-chest. “Perfect. Bloody perfect right now.”

Johnny smiled when he hears this. Simon was one of, if not the, most selfless man you could ever meet. Even with the prickly exterior, Simon would be the first one running into the firefight. Ready with a plan and the voice to give orders and save the entire mission. If anyone deserved a perfect moment, it was Simon. He deserved more than just a moment; he deserved a lifetime.

“You-you ever think of making it permeant?” Johnny asks, hands sliding from Simon’s ass to his back.

Simon stills a bit but doesn’t pull away just yet. “What are you thinking about?”

“Retirement would look good on you, Babe. Pension alone would keep us both in steak and bourbon for years. There’s no need for both of us to stay, you know? Betcha Price would agree with me.” John says, digging gently into Simon’s back.

Simon sits all the way up. “That better be the alcohol talking.”

Johnny knew this was going to be a delicate topic to bring up. Johnny didn’t know Simon before the 141. He had only heard the stories from Simon or from the rest of the task force. At best the stories were violent, at worst they were simply sad.

That didn’t stop Johnny from wanting though. Johnny, like Simon, wasn’t about to back down just because the conversation got awkward.

“You never think about it?.” Johnny presses forward.

It’s obvious that Simon has never thought about it. He blinks down at Johnny as if trying to understand what he had just said.

“No, I haven’t,” Simon says, moving off of Johnny to sit facing away.

There was more Simon wanted to say. He wanted to be angry about the suggestion. He wanted to yell and demand to know why Johnny would suggest the idea. Did Johnny honestly expect Simon to become some kind of Stepford wife? It was a stupid thought and a stupid suggestion.

At the same time, Simon didn’t want to think about it. If he weren’t in the field as Ghost then he’d have to be in the civilian world as Simon. A part of himself that hasn’t been allowed to grow for years.

Finally, Simon was just a bit grateful. Johnny would be the only one to make this suggestion. He’d also be the only one that Simon would ever retire for. But a partner in arms and a husband at home were two very different things.

“I have,” Johnny almost whispers, reaching a hand out to gently run his knuckles over Simon’s back. “but I don’t want to lose you for a fantasy. I won’t bring it up. Not until you want, at least.”

Simon didn’t verbally respond. Only laying back down on the bed, still facing away from the one man he wants more than anything.

“Can we cuddle, at least?” Johnny asks after a few minutes of silence between them.

Again, Simon says nothing, Instead he gestures for Johnny to come closer. Which he gratefully does.

-

There’s a game you and König like to play sometimes. It’s where you pretend that König’s cock isn’t the only thing on your mind. Where you smile at his compliments and don’t lead him into the bedroom right away. König plays the same game by pretending he didn’t want you bent over. He stills himself against your hand on his backside. Pretends that he doesn’t see how your mouth touches the rim of your glass. Neither of you outright says; “I want to fuck”, it would ruin the magic of the tease.

The sexual tension builds until it breaks. This night you were the one to crack first.

König never spent more than an hour speaking to his parents. Enough time for you to make it back upstairs. Having that moment of panic where you try to decide whether sexy or comfy would fit the mood tonight.

In the end, it doesn’t matter what you wear, or if you choose to wear anything. König will look at you, just like he does every time, with large eyes and an almost surprised look on his face. It doesn’t matter how many times you wait for him. It’s always the same adoration.

“Hello,” König says, stepping up to the side of the bed. Close enough to cup your face but not enough to actually make contact.

“So beautiful…” He murmurs while holding your face. His head tilts while he looks as if you were some painting in a museum.

He doesn’t move when you reach up to his face. Gently sliding your thumbs under his mask and sliding it up. As often as possible you were the one to remove his mask when he gets home. It’s an intimate moment you get to keep special. Showing that he was home, and you were right in front of him.

Part of the reason he kept the mask/helmet combo was to keep his hair in one place. Light brown hair down to his shoulders didn’t make him the shaggiest in the world. It was certainly longer than most military personnel. The same being said for his facial hair; not quite a beard but it would get there soon enough.

He leans against your hand. Blinking slowly before leaning in for a kiss.

His weight presses into your body. Being pushed back until you were flat across the bed. König’s weight presses you in the bed.

“I missed you,” You whispered into his mouth, grinding your hips upwards.

“I missed you more,” König countered, his open mouth pressing into your throat.

He’s a firm mountain of a man that was all yours to do whatever you wanted. Whether it be to verbally ask him to turn you around or simply move your hips and hands in such a way that he rolls over. You really don’t need to do much to get what you wanted from him. He was always ready to please you in whatever way was needed.

He swears in German when he penetrates. His hips moved slowly but with enough purpose that there was no stopping the jolt throughout. He quickly starts moving to match that first thrust. Moving your body back and forth with each thrust he makes. Slowly, so slowly, quickening his pace.

It’s always a bit surprising that König, or any military operator, could be so soft in bed. He holds you close, kisses you sweetly, and never wants to let go.

-

It doesn’t matter that Johnny wasn’t on a mission. He liked his workout routine. So, just after 6 am, Johnny stirs awake against a body made of warmth and muscle.

Simon doesn’t give any indication of being awake. Not even when Johnny steps out of bed.

Seeing Simon’s thick body lying there peacefully was a nice view. Johnny was too much of a gentleman to interrupt his partner’s sleep. He pulls the top sheet up and over his sleeping partner, making sure that nothing indecent was exposed before getting dressed.

König had a similar routine in the mornings.

He tended to wake up earlier than necessary. Your wall of warmth slowly moves back from your body. Out of instinct, you grab his forearm before he can get all the way up.

“It’s just for a jog.” König whispers, a soft kiss on your mouth. “Go back to sleep.”

“Okay,” You whisper although not nearly awake enough to know what was going on.

You don’t hear him getting dressed. Or feel the dip in the bed as he leans over. Nor do you notice when he puts another kiss on your cheek. What you do finally notice is the moving around your kitchen.

It’s still early in the morning, just a bit after seven. So you’ll be forgiven for being confused about the random blonde man in your kitchen.

“Morning,” Simon from the kitchen counter.

He’s wearing a black mask, no different from the kind you’d wear during the pandemic. It makes his dark blonde hair visible. It’s short, no surprise, but just long enough that he might be thinking about a haircut in the near future.

You also get a better look at some of his face. You can see that he has a scar running from his forehead to his neck. A few other little scars here and there that hint at battles long past. Dark blonde hair creates a shadow over the parts of his neck that you can see. If you didn’t know any better he could have been just any guy you’d pass on the street.

“Good morning, You guys sleep well? Sorry, I couldn’t find those stuffed animals for you.” You say, going for the fridge like you would any morning.

“We made do,” Simon says, not willing to go any further.

You silently accepted that. Too focused on making breakfast more complicated than a bowl of cereal to try and force a conversation. Simon moved away from the counter to the island stool, his phone out and in his hand.

It was awkward, to say the least, but nothing could be gained by trying to force a conversation. You could probably get away with offering him some eggs, but even that might be too far. On the one hand, you didn’t want to be rude to your houseguest. On the other hand, Simon didn’t give off the friendly vibes that Johnny did so easily.

Neither of you was willing to try and keep a conversation going. Because of this only the clinking and clanking of your cooking makes noise.

Until the kitchen window explodes.

It’s a mess of glass and panic that fills the entire room. It doesn’t matter what training you did or didn’t have. When someone shoots through a window most people start moving, whether it’s to duck down and hide or if it’s run from the room. At that moment, you were in the latter category. Leaving the oven on, leaving Simon, and escaping the kitchen before the intruder knew you were even there.

If Simon was anything like König then there was no point in trying to help. Uniformed men were like that; protectors who would be insulted if their families or loved ones tried to help in a dangerous situation. Was it a stupid mentality? Absolutely, but that didn’t change the fact that it is what it is.

From the other side of the wall, you can hear the struggle. No words were spoken but grunts and anger followed by hitting and crashing. The smart thing to do would be to leave the house. Simon was a trained and seasoned operator. There’s no reason he shouldn’t be able to handle one intruder by himself.

Simon shouts out in anger, and that keeps you from leaving as you should.

Braving to peek your head around the corner and take a look. You don’t know the intruder that stands over Simon. Dressed in dark jeans and a jacket he could have been any guy off the street. The only difference was the gun in his hand and the blood on the floor around him.

“Way too easy to find your dumbasses.” The man said, hatred in his voice. “It’s like you want everyone to die, I swear. Glare at me all you want, it ain’t gonna stop anything.”

Simon doesn’t say anything back, he simply glares. Even keeping his mouth shut when the man squats down in front of him. Only saying anything when the man grabs Simon’s mast, ripping it off his face non-too-gently.

“FUCKER!” Simon yells when his face is revealed.

It feels wrong but you dare a glance at Simon’s face. Allowing yourself to look for only a second. Long enough to see where his scars meet across a strong nose. You don’t look for long enough to see the details.

“When you die I want you to die knowing your family is next. Your mum, dad, kids, fucking wife…All of them are gonna be dead.” The intruder continues with his monologue. Pointing his gun toward Simon’s temple and pressing in.

It’s impossible to say what pushed you forward into the kitchen. It certainly wasn’t your own sense of self-preservation, that had left the room a hot minute ago. Maybe you could blame it on your own need to be a hero. What better way to show off your courage than to save someone from a gunman?

If only you had the skills to match your bravery. All you really did was run forward fast and slam hard. Pushing the intruder into Simon with all your weight.

Simon met your courage with some of his own. An arm around the intruder’s neck, dragging him close and refusing to let go.

Hand to hand Simon is comparable only to a mountain lion. He’s baring teeth and moving limbs trying to get and destroy anything close by. The intruder’s throat is bared and red from Simon biting down on the closest bit of skin he could reach.

With Simon grappling with the intruder you were left with little room to work. The only thing you could grab was the intruder’s gun holding hand. Just like running into this fight, you didn’t really have a plan. Only the inescapable need to do something.

In an instant, everything becomes too much. The intruder is yelling too loudly. The floor is too hard on your knees. You can smell the blood and feel the spit splattering over yourself and the kitchen. Someone is running around and banging through your living room. Simon starts shouting and you can’t understand him.

It’s no surprise that you didn’t hear the gun go off.

Without a life to control the hand, you were now in possession of the intruder’s gun. Although your ears are ringing, and the floor is still too hard, you can’t help but notice that the gun is cold. It wasn’t the one that fired and took away the threat.

That bullet came from Johnny’s gun.

There was no way you could have heard Johnny or König come back. They didn’t know what was going on either. Only that their designated partners were in trouble.

“Got you, I got you.” Is whispered over your head, and the gun is gently pulled from your hand.

König, big and strong, he’s pulling you close. Practically dragging you onto his lap, tucking your head into his shoulder.

“He’s dead?” You ask, although it comes out more as a statement.

König looks over to Johnny and Simon. They were in a similar position as you two were. Johnny is holding his man closely. It almost seems that Simon is trying to hide by pressing his face into Johnny’s neck, slowly being rocked by the same man who holds him so safely.

“He’s dead,” König whispers into your hair.

You don’t need to say anything else. Later Laswell would make sure everything gets cleaned up. Get you some accommodations and let König have a week off from missions. For now, though. You’re stuck with a body in your kitchen. A reminder tot eh world what could happen is someone tried anything.

[dedicatednotobsessed]

I have an Ewan Mitchell request in mind that's based on those 'Stable' photos of his. just look up ewan mitchell stable, he looks great haha.

anyways, what about an ewan mitchell x reader where she's out and about and is soon getting mauled by paparazzi, just wanting to have some privacy. Ewan decides to take her out somewhere private, a cabin of sorts and there's even a barn. takes her horse riding as well as for a swim by a lake. maybe somewhat steamy but nothing smutty smutty. please? thank u

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Of course! For more HOTD requests, just submit a strong snack to Vhagar through my ask box 💚 {I will be opening my ask box soon for The Last Kingdom and Game of Thrones requests, so keep an eye out for that announcement! 💕}

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Lakeside Cabin [Ewan Mitchell x Reader]

Other HOTD stories [requests open]

Summary: Being an actress has its downs and its ups, one of the major downsides is the lack of privacy. It is clear how frustrated you have been becoming and your boyfriend, Ewan Mitchell, decides to take you for a weekend getaway in the countryside to enjoy some privacy….

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You let out a frustrated sigh, slamming the door behind you as you walked into the flat that you shared with your long time boyfriend. You looked down while slipping your shoes off and began to take off your jacket with furrowed brows as Ewan walked out.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on? Why are you slamming things?” Ewan asked with a cocked brow.

“I just fucking hate people,” You mumbled out throwing your purse onto the table.

Ewan frowned a bit while he walked over and took you in his arms. “What happened?” He asked, nuzzling his face lightly into your hair.

You wrapped your arms around his middle and took a deep breath, Ewan always knowing how to calm your nerves. You knew becoming an actress was going to be a stressful path, yet it seemed to only get worse as of late. He was always there for your rants though and often knew the best ways to help you relax.

“It’s the damn paparazzi again,” You admitted with a small frown tugging at your lips. “I was coming out of the shops and they swarmed me like vultures…they wouldn’t stop even as I got in my car.”

Ewan blew out a breath, his fingers tangling in your hair with a frown on his features. It seemed to be constant as of late. Every other day they were coming after you since you had began a new project. You were thankful you just began a break for about a month, but that did not stop the paparazzi from bombarding you.

“How about this….” Ewan began while he slowly pulled away, his arms still wrapped around you. “We take a nice week long vacation away from everything? Turn off our phones, have some alone time….” He trailed off with a small smirk.

You laughed a bit as you met his blue eyes, smiling lovingly. “Do you think a week is enough time?” You asked softly.

Ewan chuckled a bit while he rubbed your waist gently, his hands moving to your lower back. “Well, I personally don’t think so,” He replied smirking as he leaned down lightly peppering your jaw with kisses. “But it’s a start,” He whispered against your skin, his kisses trailing down to your neck.

You hummed, tilting your head back. “When do you want to leave?” You asked softly.

“How fast can you pack your bags?” Ewan replied as he hooked his arms under your thighs and smiled lovingly up at you.

You giggled while placing your hands on his shoulders. “That depends how fast you are,” You replied and leaned down kissing his lips gently as he led you back towards your bedroom.

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By Saturday morning, you and Ewan were well on your way towards the country side. You sat in the passenger seat with your sunglasses on and jamming out to the radio, Ewan chuckling at you.

“What?” You asked smiling over at him.

Ewan shook his head, his own sunglasses on as he looked at the road, turning onto a dirt path. “I just haven’t seen you smile in such a long time, love,” He said returning your smile.

You scrunched up your nose and giggled while looking ahead, your hand finding his as he drove. A wide smile came onto your features when you arrived at the lakeside cabin Ewan wanted to go to for a week. You had been there one time before when you first began dating. He thought he would impress you by taking you horseback riding, when he knew how to ride a horse because of a show.

Ewan slowed the car to a stop and got out, making his way over to the passenger side. You giggled as he opened the door for you and took his hand, getting out.

“Such a gentleman, Mr. Mitchell,” You said teasingly and leaned up kissing him gently on the lips. “How about we go…break the bed in before we get the suitcases?” You suggested taking both of his hands.

Ewan chuckled with a small smile. “Eager, hm?”

You only laughed while leading him back towards the cabin. “Just a little…I just can’t wait to have this whole week with you,” You admitted, your lips finding his hungrily as you walked into the cabin, laughing as you fell back onto the couch.

Ewan laughed with you, hovering over you. “We don’t have to make it all the way to the bed,” He teased and leaned down kissing you once more.

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On Monday is when you went horseback riding, a small yelp passing your lips as Ewan helped you onto the black horse named Onyx. It had been a while since you’ve last ridden a horse.

“Don’t look too scared, love,” Ewan teased before he got on his white horse, Snowball.

You laughed a bit nervously and shook your head. “I-it’s just been a while.”

Ewan grinned wide. “Eh, it’s like riding a bike…except it’s a horse.”

You rolled your eyes while you began to trot beside Ewan and smiled over at him. He had been on a horse longer than you have for his role as Osferth on The Last Kingdom, he seemed to be a natural at it.

You hummed lightly looking around your surroundings as you two rode towards the wooded area in the back of the cabin. It felt nice to have a bit of freedom, the wind whipping through your hair while Onyx went from a trot to a gallop and gave your boyfriend a smile when he came up beside you.

“Did you take a picture?” You teased seeing him slipping his phone into his pocket.

Ewan smirked lightly and hummed in response causing you to giggle. One of Ewan’s favorite hobbies it seemed was to take pictures of you, to preserve the memories. Him along with friends and family were the only people you allowed to take pictures of.

“I still remembered how terrified you were when we first went horseback riding,” He said after a moment. “You were scared of falling off,” He added with a laugh.

You shook your head at the teasing and reached over pushing him lightly. “Only because I was never on a show that requires horseback riding.”

Ewan laughed once more before grunting when he suddenly hit the dirt. You smiled cheekily down at him and giggled before you climbed off to help him up, yelping when he pulled you down.

“You know that wasn’t very nice.” Ewan pouted a bit. “You should apologize.”

“Oh, I’m sorry Snowball,” You said looking up at the mare and giggled a bit.

“Oh, you’re such a bitch,” Ewan said although he was clearly joking. “But I still love you,” He added pecking your lips before he got up and helped you up.

You thanked your boyfriend and smiled kissing him suddenly. “You better still love me,” You stated while nudging him.

Ewan chuckled as he helped you back up onto Onyx. “I will always love you, Y/N.”

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You held onto your towel with one hand, your other hand interlocked with Ewan’s as you headed towards the dockside. It was your last day at the cabin and you decided to spend it by a nice dip at the lake on a warm day.

You slipped your sandals off and took your towel off before turning to your boyfriend, smiling as you placed your hands on his chest.

“I can’t thank you enough for this week,” You admitted looking up into his blue eyes. “We both really needed it.”

Ewan smiled lovingly down at you while he pushed back a strand of your hair. “I just love seeing you smile again…it has been so long since I’ve seen that smile.”

You scrunched up you nose and leaned up to kiss him before yelping when he suddenly pushed you into the water. “Ewan!” You shouted up at him.

He laughed before he jumped in himself, a small smirk on his features as he pulled you close by the waist. “Let’s say that’s payback for when you pushed me off Snowball.”

You shook your head, your hands wrapping around his neck although the smile never left your lips. “You know….” You began while letting go of him. “It is a private cabin after all.”

Ewan cocked a brow watching you with curiosity and chuckled as you took off your bikini top. You threw it back onto the dockside before making your way over to your love, your legs wrapping around his middle.

Your chest pressed into his, your lips finding his eagerly while you wrapped your arms back around his neck. He lightly pushed his tongue into your mouth, intertwining your tongues.

You arched your back lightly as you felt one of his hands move down your stomach. “I don’t think we’ve ever done anything in the water before apart from those couple of times in the shower,” You whispered against his lips.

Ewan chuckled, his lips moving down to your neck, your nails digging into his skin as his hand moved lower past your stomach. “There’s a first time for everything, my love,” He whispered against your skin.

You smiled a small smile before furrowing your brows a bit, lightly biting his skin. There were many ways that Ewan helped you relax, knowing what helped. You just wished that you could have more week long getaways such as this where no one could disturb you and the two of you could do as you please.

[dinkflocculent]

Old Prey - Chapter Eight: Allusion

Beau

“Oh, you poor, poor, thing.”

Leo looks at the beeping thermometer with worry, silently signaling that my fever has not gone down.

This morning I fell with a fever, and it has only gotten worse. My head throbbed every time I moved, my muscles ached as if my bones were shattered. So I’m bound to my bed.

“Oh, dear, oh, dear,” Leo rambles about, looking at me as if I’m about to die. “It’s only getting worse, you might faint from overheating! We can’t have that, oh, no, we can’t…”

Leo hasn’t been any help. He’s been giving me home remedies and soup. While I do enjoy his cooking, it isn’t going to do a thing to help me. He seems too busy worrying like I’m bleeding out. I hope I faint soon, so I can finally rest from all of this…

“Can’t you just bring me to a doctor?” I ask, trying to keep my voice as soft and sweet as I can.

“My dear, outside is scary and dangerous, those evil beasts might brainwash you again. Then we’d be separated… You don’t want that.”

“I don’t,” let’s try to make my voice a bit more soft. “But I’m sick, and I need help… don’t you want to help me?”

He looks deeply into my eyes, looking like he’s considering it. Yes, bring me to the doctor, then I’ll get saved, finally…

“Some… Some more soup my help. I should just try to keep you company while I try to find some sort of medicine.”

Damn it.

He gets into bed with me. He wraps his arms around me so tight like he had the intent of crushing me to death. He gently lapped my forehead, purring as he rubbed his scent all over me. I’m getting sick of being handled like this…

“I promise you’ll get better, my sweet Soleda… it won’t get worse with my help.”

I give him a smile, not knowing how long I can keep up this act before someone saves me.

***

Duko

I have a good feeling about finding Beau.

Mr. Spera and I agreed to meet up in two hours and go around the neighborhood knocking on doors and asking questions. We both think she was taken, so this is a chance to find her captor or get clues.

I step into my house, locking and closing the door behind me.

“I heard what happened to that female bear you’re friends with,” My father says once I notice him. He stands up and walks towards me. “Do not go looking for her.”

“What? I’m not going to let her stay missing; I’m going to look for her.”

“You’re going to get desperate and get new, worse ideas,” he stared intently. “First you’re searching for her, then you find where she is. You think she can be her knight, so you go to save her yourself. Then you get your arm mauled off. Each new idea seems genius, but it’s more idiotic and dangerous than the last. I know from experience.”

“You’re just being paranoid again!” I clenched my fists. “You think everyone is a danger to the family, you’ve always been like this!”

“I’m not being paranoid, I’m being cautious. I can’t trust anyone!” I’ve always noticed how similar Beau sounded to him. That’s why I hate and pity her paranoia with a passion.

“No, you aren’t, not every beast is going after you! Searching for her isn’t going to put me in danger. I’m going to look for her, I don’t know what could happen if we just sit around!”

“Female teenagers run away all the time!”

“Why would she?”

“Maybe she had a fight with her father, or perhaps with you,” because it’s always his dumb son’s fault…

I glare at him. He’s always treated me like I’m just a dumb dog. That someone is always after him, but we’ve never been ‘attacked’ before. I’m sick of my life being controlled by another beast’s paranoia!

He just sighs.

“Did you act like this when you were my age?”

“No. I wasn’t afraid of anything. I wanted to be feared because that’s how I thought a male wolf should be. It caused me to get with bad beasts, hurting other beasts, getting myself hurt… I watched beasts die and got my life spared by the beast I mauled to near death. I don’t want my son to go through something like that.”

“Why would something like that happen to me?”

“It may seem impossible, but it’s not. It started with me going to a bar, I met a beast, then I was getting shot at. Every idea is more dangerous than the last. Please listen to me, Duko. I love you.”

My father doesn’t say he loves me all that much. He says he only wants to say it when he really means it.

“I know how afraid you are about this, but I’m terrified. Beau is someone I care so much about, I hold her so dear to my heart. I need to find her. She’s probably praying for it right now.”

***

I walked on the sidewalk, shivering as the snow began to fall. I’ve asked questions to every resident in my and Beau’s neighborhood. It’s been mostly ‘I don’t know who she is,’ or ' I didn’t see her that day.’ But those who did have something useful to say saw the same beast talking to her: the superintendent, Mr. Santifelon. He might not know much, but it’s worth trying…

I arrive at his house. It’s… depressing. All the blinds are closed, and the grass is uncut.

I knock on the door, the sound of numerous locks unlocking before I look up at his tall, intimidating figure. He looks at me with a deep glare.

“Hello, Mr. Santifelon,” I try to tread away from that harsh gaze of his. “A small female bear that’s a senior at Claws Academy went missing Friday night and I’ve been questioning people to help find her. Most beasts saw you talking to her first period. You came into the classroom and asked her to talk with you in an abrupt change. When she came back, she looked tired, even bothered…”

I read from my notes, trying not to sound accusing. This probably explains why she was so quiet when we met on the bus that afternoon. She’s always tired from school, but not quiet like that. It could’ve been about her coming to celebrate from me, but she would probably forget about it until it was brought up.

“I was talking to her about grades.”

“…Why? Isn’t your job to check if the school is in check, if the principal is doing his job, or something like that?”

“Mind your business.”

His harsh tone catches me off guard. He’s very defensive. He isn’t known to be bubbly or anything but it’s unusual.

I lower my ears in submission. “…I’m sorry. Did you at least see her after that..?—”

“I never saw her, I didn’t talk to her again, I just went home, that’s that.”

I have a bad feeling about him, but I don’t know what it is besides the harsh yelling. I just smell something so familiar…

I begin to walk away since this isn’t going anywhere talking to a hermit. “Thank you for talking to me.”

“Wait.”

I look back at him.

“Never return to my house again, or I’ll kill you.”

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Seventeen

I know it’s morning, because the incessant thumping bass music starts up in tandem with the bird song. I lie with my eyes closed stubbornly insisting on sleeping through the noise, but when Claire gives up, stretches and starts to crawl out of her sleeping bag, I know it’s time that I admit defeat. 

“Good morning.” She says to me as soon as I stir, she’s bright as a bell. 

“Morning,” I croak, rubbing my eyes. “and happy birthday to you!”

She makes an excited squealing sound. “Thank you! It’s so weird! I’m a legal adult now!”

“Do you feel different?”

“Yeah, maybe a bit. Usually when people ask me that I’m like ‘no’ but today… maybe I actually do. I feel mature.”

“You have the whole world in your hands now, you can do anything.”

She looks down at her palms as though they’re suddenly magical, and I laugh and reach for the bag of food in the corner of the tent, no thoughts in my head but the chocolate brioche we bought in Aldi. 

We lope outside and start eating it on the camping chairs, and we must be the first ones to wake up in the entire place, because the whole field is deserted. Last night it was buzzing with chatter and music, people everywhere dressed in colourful outfits, coming over to our little campsite and sharing a drink with us, people singing songs, letting off firecrackers somewhere, but today it’s a wasteland. A battlefield of cheap supermarket beer cans litter the dry, dusty soil and there are pieces of what is presumably someone’s feather boa strewn all over the place. It reminds me of the time that my cat mauled a bird to death in our garden. 

“Did you have fun yesterday?” Claire asks me with a mouthful of soft, chocolatey bread, and I nod. “Yeah it was fun. It hasn’t been what I expected but like, in a good way.”

“I know, it’s a little bit chaotic.”

“And the horror stories about the toilets are true.”

“Ugh, yeah. Don’t remind me. I’ve been holding in my pee for ages.”

I lower my voice a little and lean toward her. “And how is it with Shane?”

“Oh, fine.” Her cheeks turn pink. “It’s been good, he’s really nice. I think I like him a lot…” She trails off. “I hope it’s not weird for you.”

“Actually it isn’t.” I admit. “I’m happy for you.”

She sighs. “I hope everyone else will be too.”

“Everyone, meaning Kelly?”

She shrugs “Well she hates me anyway now so I suppose there’s literally nothing that could make it worse, I just can’t help but feel a bit bad.”

“She hates me too, I think.” I lament. “But I suppose we can’t make decisions based on her, otherwise we’d both be bored and miserable.”

“We’re way better off without her.” She decides.  “She’s always been a bitch, and we just ignored it because she wasn’t being a bitch directly to us until now.”

“She always was to me.” I admit. “Ever since I’ve known her she’s been a bit like…. Aggressive. I feel like it just got worse this summer.”

“Yeah I know, there was that thing she said about Liam and you at the barbeque, that never sat right with me.”

“She said a lot of mean stuff. I think she sort of meant well, but it doesn’t always come out of her mouth sounding that way.”

“She’s jealous and annoying, let’s not make it complicated.”

I hesitate for a few moments. “Do you remember what she said to me the morning that I broke up with Liam?”

“Hm? When was that?”

“A few weeks ago. You were both there, and she said that I should stick to boys like him, because… other kinds of boys would end up hurting me.”

“Actually, yeah. I remember.”

“Do you think she was right?”

She looks at me thoughtfully, blue eyes searching for something in my face, like weakness or naivety, maybe. “I don’t know…”

“But…” I prompt.

“But sometimes it’s good to know when something is going to be too much for you too quickly.”

“So you agree with her.”

“Maybe, Evie. Why? Do you still fancy him?”

“I dunno.”

“Well, do you think there’s a chance he’d feel the same?”

“I dunno that either.” I feel my face starting to get hot, and I’m agitated, too warm and too hungry. All of the things that seemed right last night seem a bit muddled this morning, and as I think of Jude, and the places where his hands were, his mouth doing those things to mine, it’s freaky to imagine that the person he was kissing into the wall was me. In the chalk white of this Saturday morning, I find it hard to rectify that. I’ve remembered who I really am now; a girl who never does things like that, she’d be way too shy to. 

The zip of our neighbouring tent flies open then, and Jude’s torso spills out onto the ground. He’s wearing an old t-shirt, stained slightly pink in the wash, and his hair is tousled. The abruptness of his exit makes my skeleton nearly eject itself from my skin. I sit pinned to the spot and pray that he didn’t hear any of our conversation.

He’s rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes, and his voice is croaky. “What are you guys eating?”

“Brioche.” Claire tells him.

“Is there enough for me too?”

She tosses the packet to him, but she has a bad aim and it lands about two meters away. He has to get up and get it himself. He comes out of the tent with a pair of sports shorts on, and even though I’ve seen the expanse of his long tanned legs a dozen times before, I still feel shy and have to look at something else. 

“Such a good shout, brioche.” He says, tearing open the plastic wrapper and taking a bite out of one. 

“Are you forgetting something?” Claire says to him cheekily, and his head jerks up to meet my eyes for just a moment. He looks alarmed, but then relief comes over his face as he realises I’m not expecting him to do or say anything. 

“Oh, It’s your eighteenth!” He says to her “Happy birthday! Welcome to the club.”

“Thank you!”

He gives her a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and then instead of taking the seat next to me, he sits way down across the circle. I’m immediately acutely aware of him, and his demeanour is throwing me. He hasn’t said anything directly to me yet, nor is he really looking at me at all. He’s looking off somewhere distantly, just eating the bread with glassy eyes. A pit of uncertainty settles in my stomach and I start to feel slightly panicked. I don’t want to be around him anymore, it’s too stressful. I wish that I could make myself disappear. Eventually I make up an excuse about needing to get something in the tent, and I crawl in there and stay until everybody else wakes up. 

Shortly enough the campsite creeps to life. Bodies crawl out of tents and begin their trudge to the horrible toilets and down to the coffee stands, moving past our campsite with grey complexions, like a crowd of benevolent zombies. Jen and the others eventually come out too, and when I re-emerge from my cocoon we all sit around tucking into what little food Claire and I bought until it’s nearly gone. I don’t mention that we didn’t plan to feed everyone, and in fact the food we brought was supposed to last us for the whole weekend, because I think it might be uncool to say that. 

Shane fumbles in his pocket and produces a single birthday candle, which he sticks into the last piece of brioche indelicately, lights it and places it in Claire’s hands. “Happy birthday” he grins. “You can drink legally now.”

She laughs gleefully. “Yes, legally. And vote, more importantly, and get my licence.”

“You’re not going to learn to drive though, really, are you?”

“Why would I do that when I have you to taxi me around?” She blows out the candle and we all cheer for her. 

Then Shane turns to me, having to make a dig at me as usual. “Now Evie’s the only one who’s still a little child.”

“I’m not a child.” I grumble. “I’m eighteen in march.”

“Such a wee baby, sure march is seven months away.” 

“Yeah, ha ha. Shut up.”

I glance over at Jude and he just looks awkward. “What’s on the agenda today, Jenny?” He asks, swiftly ignoring us.

She takes out her trusty band schedule and starts listing off the names of who’s playing today. “That rave thing is on later on” She adds. “Starting at like midnight, so we can go to that if you’re all up for it.” We all agree that it would be fun, and if we’re not going to stay up all night and party on Claire’s birthday then when will we ever. 

Prev // Next

[theunbonded]

9

Coming back to Basgiath was a slap in the face. I arrived back at the dormitory early in the morning, dripping water onto the cool, wooden floors. No one woke up to witness my humiliating return back, but it didn’t matter once the routine of the day started. 

All of the Unbonded had been assigned to the undesirable chores. I found the kitchen swarming with people I had never seen before, angrily slicing away at pieces of fruit or white-knuckling a spoon to stir a stew. The energy in there was negative and deadly. When I served the food to the riders, their sneers and taunts came one after the other. They all wanted to kick the wounded dog. Violet and Rhiannon tried to talk to me, but the moment I saw their pitying stares I grabbed the empty tray in front of me and ran back to the kitchen.

I ripped the net off of my hair, threw the gloves in the trash, and stomped into the mess hall, eyes searching for a specific person. When I found them, I quickly crossed the room.

“Aetos.” I stopped in front of the table where Dain and the other second-years were sitting.

“Capplynger.” His eyes were sharp as they surveyed me. “Do you need something?”

“I need off kitchen duty.” I could admit I appreciated that he didn’t mention last night and my new status right off the bat. 

Dain sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “I understand that-”

“I need off kitchen duty,” I interrupted, repeating myself in the hope that he could tell I wasn’t playing around.

“I’ll see what I can do, Capplynger, but no promises.”

⤧⤧⤧

“It’s your lucky day. The last cadet got kicked off of rotation due to a communication problem, so your chore has just changed.”

Dain had led me outside of the rider’s quadrant to the grassy quad. We stood next to the stone bridge that would take me to the other side of Basgiath where the rest of the quadrants were. In Dain’s hand was a large, brown satchel, which he now had outstretched to me. 

“Markham needs this delivered to the infantry quadrant. They’ll be expecting you.”

“What sort of communication problem?” I grabbed the satchel and slung it over my shoulder. It wasn’t heavy; Markham must have filled it with reports for the generals in the infantry division.

Dain grimaced. “You’ll see. Just don’t let them get under your skin.”

He left me alone to traverse across the bridge. Diagonal from where I stood I could see the Parapet. It seemed like ages ago I had crossed the thin, crumbling walkway. The me then would have spit on me now. As I walked away from the rider’s quadrant, I wondered if maybe everything had been a mistake. 

Walking into the infantry quadrant, I was the lone black uniform in a sea of navy blue. Curious and hostile glances kept being shot my way. It was almost as bad as being back in the rider’s quadrant, but at least no one here knew that I was Unbonded. Their distaste came from the presumption I was an egotistical Rider.

Only one of those things was true.

“They found a new one,” a voice behind me drawled. I turned to find two girls leaning against the wall, sizing me up. One had freckles coating every inch of her skin, her flaming red hair tied in a high ponytail. The other girl had deep brown skin and had kept her black hair loose, allowing it to spill over her shoulders. They both wore the navy blue of the infantry, their uniforms identical and complete with a rucksack and sword strapped to their back. While their hair may not be as big of a problem as it was in the rider's quadrant, they were not given the same flexibility with the uniform. 

“How long do you think she’ll last?” The black-haired girl smiled at me, but there was nothing nice about the gesture.

“If she comes back at all?” The red-head smiled too. It was like they were baring their teeth at me, showing off the weapons they’d use to maul me apart. “A week at most.”

 “Where do I drop this off?” I lifted the satchel in the air, keeping my tone bored. They were the type of girls to feed off of any reaction. I wouldn’t give them the honor.

“We can take it off your hands.” The red-head tried to grab it from me, but I swiftly moved out of her reach.

I tsked my tongue. “Not so fast. I need names and why I should trust you.”

The red-head scowled at me. “Are all riders this cocky?”

I returned her previous smile, making sure she could see every ill-intent behind my eyes. I could still feel the blood coating my hands from Threshing last week.

“Lidia Newman. First-year. Twenty-third company.”

“Divya Sengal. First-year. Twenty-third company.” The black-haired girl, Divya, said after Lidia. “This is one of our duties, which we have done since conscription without failure. While you may not trust us, we have seen plenty of your kind come and go.”

“So I would suggest not thinking too hard, since it might hurt that small head of yours, and just hand over that satchel so we can get this over with.” Lidia held her hand out. I slowly passed the satchel over to her, and she looped it over her neck and over one shoulder.

“Good doing business with you.” Divya gave a mock salute before both girls turned on their heels and began their walk back into the infantry quarters. 

“Nice swords!” I called at their retreating backs.

They halted. Turned back towards me. 

“Do you have something to say to us, Rider?” Lidia scowled.

Not a rider. Still a cadet. I swallowed the bitter feeling in my throat. 

“I meant it. Those swords are nice.” I had finally analyzed the swords strapped to the two girls’ backs. The shortswords were much more practical than the long monstrosities that Xander and Garrick liked to carry around. It would be something that could benefit riders like me to carry around. I hadn’t seen them anywhere in the rider’s quadrant, but if they were the standard-issued weapon for the infantry, they would be easy to come around eventually.

“Come closer. You can see how sharp they are.” Lidia’s grin was evil.

“Ask the last rider what he thought about the swords,” Divya giggled.

“We can play another day.” I began to walk towards the bridge to bring me back to the rider’s quadrant. “Play nice and we might learn a thing or two from each other.”

--

Masterlist

[justalittletomato]

Okay the rain is keeping my up and I got a soft maul and starlight thought.

Maul returning to mandalore from missions with savage and the other mandalorians or syndicate groups. Starlight waiting and greeting Maul back. Her welcome backs changing to welcome home. A few times he’s come back covered in what she thought was his blood. The worry in her eyes. Maul brushing her off. He didn’t need her to fuss or coddle him.

Eventually as they get closer, maul allows her to check regarding injury. Letting her hands roam over him. She’s gentle. The balm in her hands rubbing a bruise. To soothe the ache. He stopped rolling his eyes at the gesture, to starlight this was not coddling. She cared for him. Genuinely worried and cared for him. And for Maul? He was out of his depth to fully accept it. Hesitant to.

He envied Savage, who so “willingly” let Angel leap at him when they disembarked the ship. The Gardner immediately rushing past to see him.

Starlight waited by the hanger. Cautious.

Does she envy them? Does she tire of having to toe around Maul?

“Welcome home.” She greets, eyes looking to the bruise blooming on his face. He leans in and she brushes his cheek.

“What fate found the one who did that?”

“My saber.”

“Good.” A nod, “ I have some balm, this one will fade well.” The touch was permitted. Maybe perhaps one day…he wouldn’t have to lean in it would just happen. Perhaps…

[circle-around-again]

"[The Abyssin] pivoted on one foot and kicked out with the other, catching Maul in the stomach. The sound of the impact made a few cadets wince. Maul was again lifted off of his feet. Hitting the ground, his body rolled like a broken doll past several cadets until he came to a stop near the feet of the female Nautolan. The Nautolan looked down at Maul's small, tattooed back, then turned to face Trezza and said, "With all due respect, Master Trezza, this is not a fair fight."" (Windham, 81).

Maul gets the snot beaten out of him by this kid. I believe this is a performance, as Maul has already demonstrated that he is a skilled combatant.

This sets a precedence however for Maul's fighting style. He lets people get hits in, in this novel and in Maul: Lockdown. It seems to be a part of Sidious' order to conceal his force sensitivity.

I am worried that it becomes a nasty form of self-harm and weakness in his fighting form, however. Does he believe that opponents must be allowed to hit him as some sort of "tax"? How often does he purposefully let down his guard just so that he can be brutalised as per his master's wish? If he returns unbeaten, no matter his level of skill, is Sidious displeased? Did this pattern have a role in his loss on Naboo?

Also, Kilindi's first line is here. She seems to have a strong passion for fairness, which I am pleased with. I think her sense of justice rubs off on him. He cannot stand an 'unfair' fight in his favour, and maybe this internal drive is her doing.

[littleladymab]

For prompts what if this one with MaulObiTine: C is trying to sleep alone, but they can’t, so they drag B and A from whatever they’re doing and into bed 👀👀

KICKS YOUR DOOR DOWN, AT LONG LAST, I COME BEARING OT3!!!!!!

also holy fuck new glass animals single dropped yesterday and i sure did have that on loop as I wrote please groove as you read

Perhaps it is the opulence that gets under Maul’s skin. The silks of the bedsheets that are too cool without another body to warm them. The sheer amount of space that echoes his restless tossing and turning. The fact that he has the luxury to lie here and stare sleeplessly up at the canopy overhead. 

There is nothing that needs his attention, but it calls to the others. 

Like fuck he’s going to suffer this misery alone. 

Maul’s grumble as he rolls out of bed turns into a growl as he tangles in the sleeves of the robe that was left for him by an attendant trying to be helpful. He ties the sash half-heartedly around his waist and stalks out of the room in search of Obi-Wan. 

It’s easy, despite the enormity of the palace. Obi-Wan is a barbed hook stabbed through his breastbone and all he has to do is tug on the string that connects them. Years have let the wound heal, but nights like this — alone and trapped in silence — knock the hook loose so that it aches, reopened and tender. 

Maul finds Obi-Wan standing over a table displaying maps of a war that he swore is no longer his. He rubs absently at a spot on his chest with one hand and fusses with his beard in thought with the other. 

“How did I know you would be looking for trouble,” Obi-Wan says without looking up as Maul slams a hand onto the holo table to demand his attention. He doesn’t even have the gall to look away from the readout of troop movements. His hand over his mouth isn’t enough to disguise the smirk, though, nor is the light from the map enough to wash away the bags under his eyes completely. 

“I came looking for you,” Maul counters, reaching over and snatching up the remote for the holo table. 

“Am I trouble?” Obi-Wan lifts an eyebrow with the question.

“You’ll be in trouble if you keep ignoring me.” With a deft press of a button, Maul turns off the map display. Then, because he can, and sure maybe he is feeling a little troublesome and more than a little frustrated, he crushes the remote. 

To make a point. 

Obi-Wan frowns as he watches the bits of tech rain down over the deactivated table. “Alright, my dear, you’ve made your point,” he says. 

“Don’t my dear me just because you think it will get you out of trouble.” Still, Maul notes that the tension in Obi-Wan’s shoulders eases, and he stifles a yawn. “Where is Satine?” 

At this, the other man’s eyebrow lifts in a delicate arch and amusement curls the corners of his lips into an infuriating smirk. “Oh, is that the plan?” 

Maul curls his fingers into a fist around the front of Obi-Wan’s Jedi robes and yanks him down to kiss that smirk off his fucking face. “Shut up.” 

Obi-Wan chuckles against the kiss and sighs as it ends. “She’s probably in her office getting more work done, knowing our duchess.” 

He’s not used to hearing these words. My dear. Our duchess. Just like he’s not familiar with the amenities that are freely given so long as he is here as a guest. 

Just like he’s not familiar with the affection that is freely given as Obi-Wan startles him out of his thoughts, tracing the shell of his ear and running the tips of his fingers over the new earrings there. Ones that Satine gave him as a gift, simply because she thought they would look nice. 

“Bold of you to think that she will be ready to sign off for the night just yet,” Obi-Wan muses idly, following his own internal monologue. 

“You just get me there,” Maul growls, shoving a hand against Obi-Wan’s chest. Not to push him away — merely making a show of force. 

Obi-Wan rocks back on his heels then swings forward again into Maul’s space to steal a kiss that Maul lets linger longer than he normally would. “I look forward to seeing how this goes,” he murmurs against Maul’s lips, the smirk softening into a smile. “It will be nice to sleep at a reasonable hour, I think.” 

It’s already late in the evening, somewhere after midnight. Maul has been left alone most of the evenings for this past week until the restlessness finally forced him out of bed this night. He harrumphs in response and follows after Obi-Wan. 

He doesn’t have that sort of connection with Satine. Yet, he thinks, fingering the earring that dangles from his lobe. Obi-Wan’s pain is deep and old, settled and familiar in his chest. Her’s will be sharp and bright when it does strike. 

Obi-Wan navigates the halls of the palace with thoughtless ease, and Maul wonders just what he feels when he searches for Satine. What the wound she has caused in his heart feels like, what teenage love feels like when it breaks — how it differs from anger turned to something sweeter. 

Or is it that he just has memorized the routes around the palace? The number of steps and turns it will take to get from the map room to Satine’s study? Maul doubts it is as mundane as that, though. Obi-Wan is too much of a romantic for it to just be that.

Satine, golden hair loose from its coiffure from dinner and hanging around her shoulders in gentle curls, startles as her door opens. “Oh,” she says, a breathless laugh escaping her. “I didn’t hear you knock.” 

“That is because we didn’t knock!” Obi-Wan chimes, hopping up onto the edge of her desk. “Maul came and distracted me from my late night ruminations, and I believe he intends to do the same for you.” 

Her eyes flit from the man across from her to where Maul lurks back by the door. To his surprise, she sets aside her stylus and holds out a hand to him. “Is there a problem with the accommodations?” 

Maul’s feet obey the wordless summons until he is just shy of her touch. He hadn’t thought this far forward. He can’t pull a trick like the one he used on Obi-Wan. And saying yes, they’re too big for just one person sounds absolutely pathetic.

So he tries to channel that suave ease that Obi-Wan always seems to have. Maul reaches towards her, curling his fingers around the strands of her hair to tuck them behind her ear. “The sheets are far too cold,” he says, his voice low and gruff and he hopes it doesn’t sound as stupid as it felt to say. 

Satine’s jewel deep eyes search his, her lips parted ever so slightly and he can hear the hitch of her breath. 

From the other side of the desk, out of the corner of his eye, Maul can see Obi-Wan duck his head briefly to possibly hide a laugh. Maul makes a note to reprimand him later for that. “Oh, is that the problem?” And then to Maul’s surprise, he feels Obi-Wan’s warm, calloused hand grasp his chin in a light but demanding grip. He tilts Maul’s face away from Satine, forcing him to break the eye contact. “I can certainly help with that,” he murmurs and this time the kiss is deep and languid. 

As much for show as it is for the pure enjoyment of it. 

“You’re being absolutely awful,” Satine murmurs. “I still have work to do.” 

“Great news, my love: The work will still be there.” Despite his words being for Satine, Obi-Wan’s gaze holds Maul’s steady — the small smile meant only for him. “If, of course, we can tempt you away.” 

“And I bet that everyone waiting for those reports are already asleep,” Maul adds and Obi-Wan’s smile brightens even as Satine sighs in frustration. “Just saying.” 

Obi-Wan releases his chin and lets him look back to Satine, slumped in her chair and resting her head against the delicate tips of her fingers. But her eyes are focused as she watches the two of them. More alert than she had seemed when they first walked in, that’s for certain. 

Maul holds his hand out to her this time. “As your guest, I think I’m allowed to demand a little more of your time.” 

She laughs, turning her face into her palm as if that can dampen the expression. “Alright, you fiends. Give me a moment.” 

But Maul doesn’t want to run the risk of her turning a moment into an hour, so he takes her hand and pulls her to her feet. 

A sound of surprise spills out of her as she stumbles into his chest, but the laughter is still there. “You win!” she gasps through her laughter. Without looking she closes the cover to her tablet with a definitive click. “I’m done.” There’s a moment of shy hesitation, and then she leans in towards Maul— 

He retreats two steps. Enough to keep a firm grip on her elbows so she can keep her balance at the sudden loss of his presence. 

She frowns at his withdrawal. And when she tries to close the gap again, he retreats. Step by step, her confusion turning to delight as he leads her away from her desk. 

Step by step until his back hits Obi-Wan’s chest. 

Satine uses this opportunity to press in against him, slender fingers tracing the edge of his robe as she lifts up on her tiptoes to kiss him. Her palms smooth up his chest, curling around his neck as Obi-Wan’s arms encircle his waist from behind. 

She sighs in satisfaction as the kiss breaks. “Much better.” 

“The plan was to get back to the bed,” Maul grumps, sandwiched between the two of them and the easy exchange of touches. 

“In a moment,” Satine says as Obi-Wan’s lips press to the curve of his throat and her hands slip beneath the robe to better map the planes of his chest. 

And this time, at least, he can’t find it in him to object.