#mine if any one was to dare touch you there dead my obsession holds no limits each and every breath you take is mine

[your-fuccked-up-dad-volume100]

abducting them and taking them somewhere there screams won’t be heard is romantic I don’t need anyone trying to keep them away from the love of life 🔪

[miniscapes333]

Passionate confession from your FS (18+) (sweet obsession edition) (part - 2)

PICK A PILE READING LOVES ;)

👇 [PILE - 1] 👇[PILE - 2]

👆 [PILE - 3]

Disclaimer: The images featured are not mine. All credit and rights belong to their original creators.

PILE 1

You don’t even know what you do to me, do you? The way I ache for you—it’s almost maddening. Like a fire that never burns out, just keeps consuming, deeper, hotter, more unbearable every time I think about you. And I do—I think about you constantly. I replay moments between us like an addict chasing their next high, lingering on the way your lips curve when you smirk, the way your breath hitches when I get too close. It’s a battle I lose every single night, fighting this pull you have over me, but the truth is? I don’t want to win. I want to lose. To you. Over and over again. Because you—you—are the only thing I want to surrender to.

You drive me to the edge of my control, test my patience, push me until I feel like I might just snap. And maybe I want to. Maybe I want you to see what you do to me, how deep this obsession runs. How every time I see you, my hands twitch to touch, my lips part with words I’m not sure I should say just yet—but God, do I want to. I catch myself staring when I shouldn’t, imagining things I have no business imagining, feeling this raw, unfiltered hunger that only you can stir in me. And yet, it’s not just about the way I crave you—it’s deeper than that. It’s the way my heart pounds when I hear your voice. The way I miss you even when you’re right in front of me, because I always want more.

And I wonder—do you feel it too? This tension that coils between us like an unspoken challenge, daring one of us to break first. I see it in the way your eyes flicker when I get too close, the way your body reacts before your mind catches up. Don’t deny it—I know you feel it just as much as I do. And one day, I swear, I’m going to make you admit it. I’ll have you just as undone as you leave me every single night, lost in this sweet, unbearable obsession we’ve wrapped ourselves in. And when that day comes? Oh, love, I won’t hold back. I won’t hesitate. And I will make sure you never forget what it feels like to be wanted like this.

PILE 2

You have no idea how long I’ve been watching you, studying you, memorizing the way your lips move when you talk, how your laughter melts into a room, the way your presence shifts the air around you—pulling me in without effort. I should have kept my distance. Should have let this be nothing more than fleeting curiosity, but tell me… how am I supposed to ignore something that already owns me? You consume my thoughts, even in the quiet, even when I tell myself to let go. I can’t. I won’t. The more I see you, the more I need you. Even when I try to focus, even when I pretend I’m above this, my mind betrays me. I replay our conversations, I search for traces of me in your gaze, I wonder if you know—if you feel—the tension I bite back every time I’m near you.

It’s intoxicating, the way you make me lose control. The teasing, the stolen glances, the way you tilt your head just so, testing me, daring me to make a move. And God, do I want to. But I can’t just have you—I need to unravel you first. I want to know what makes you tick, what sets your skin aflame, what leaves you breathless in the dead of night. I want to see you undone under my hands, knowing it was me who got you there. You make me restless, make me second-guess my own composure, and I swear I’ve imagined a thousand different ways to finally close this unbearable distance. Slow, teasing, pushing you past your own restraint. Or maybe all at once, like the dam finally breaking, like neither of us can hold back any longer.

I think about you when I shouldn’t. Late at night, when the world is silent and my thoughts are anything but. You haunt me, linger in the spaces between my breaths, and I wonder—do I do the same to you? Do you feel the heat between us even when we’re surrounded by others? Do you catch yourself staring when you think I won’t notice? Because I notice everything, love. Every flicker of your gaze, every shift in your body when I get too close. And one day, I won’t just stand here and watch. One day, I’ll lean in, brush my fingers along your jaw, and make you admit that you’ve been craving this just as much as I have. And when that day comes? I promise, I’ll make sure you never forget what it feels like to finally be mine.

PILE 3

You don’t understand what you do to me. How your presence alone is enough to send a slow burn through my veins, a warmth that lingers long after you’ve gone. You move like you know exactly who you are—unapologetic, untouchable, and yet, I want to be the one who reaches you. The one who reminds you that you don’t have to be so strong, so guarded, because with me? You are safe. And maybe that’s what scares me the most. This need—no, this ache—to give you everything. My hands, my time, my devotion. I want to spoil you, not just with gifts, but with the way I touch you, the way I look at you like you are the only thing worth chasing. Because you are. And if I have to spend forever proving that to you, I will.

I know you feel it too. The tension, the unspoken promises in the way our fingers brush when we stand too close, the stolen glances that last just a second too long. It’s maddening, this game we play. The push, the pull. But let’s be honest, love—we both know where this is leading. One day, I won’t hold back. I’ll have you pressed against me, your breath warm against my skin, and I’ll make sure you never doubt just how much I want you. I want to worship you, learn every inch of you, taste the way your body reacts to my touch. Slow and teasing, making you beg, or deep and consuming, leaving you breathless. You deserve that. You deserve everything. And I swear to you, I’ll spend every moment proving it.

But it’s not just about the physical—it never was. It’s the way you see me, even when I don’t have the words to say what I feel. It’s the way you laugh, how it lingers in the air like a melody I never want to stop hearing. It’s the way I want to earn your love, not just claim it. So let me. Let me trace my fingers down your spine and memorize the way you shiver. Let me whisper your name against your skin and watch as you melt beneath me. Let me love you the way you were always meant to be loved—fully, entirely, without hesitation. Because, my love, you are the one thing in this world I will never stop wanting.

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[loaksbitch]

possessive!neteyam thoughts — (⨳,✿)

warnings: light toxic behavior but it’s fictional soo..(?) marking, mate press, mating, breeding kink, neteyam literally fucks reader on every spot omaticaya village.. lmk if i missed any :)

possessive!neteyam is definitely the type to literally mark you and claim you as his in every way possible. love bites all over your neck, inner thigh or even your..arm. he’s just so obsessive and wants any na’vi dead or alive, you are his.

possessive!neteyam loves to hold your hand, he’s such a craver for skin contact and he’s touch deprived soul. it’s as if he’s calm when he’s close to you, touching you.. all the feeling, his sadness or burden of trying to being perfect son or warrior like he always is evaporates quick.

possessive!neteyam gets jealous so easily, matter of fact he even gets jealous of your top loincloth. you won’t even dare to forget how he was genuinely upset about your top holding onto your breast while his hand were begging to hold your tits for you. “my hands are literally fucking free for you, baby.”

possessive!neteyam is secretly into breeding kink. it’s not a secret on how he just wants to fuck you raw for hours and stuff you with his babies, making you walk around like a the little angel you are knows in the village. it just makes something in him go feral, “you are so hot when stuffed with my babies, y’know.”

possessive!neteyam is such a sneaky bastard. i’m any way possible, neteyam manages to pull your heart out from your skin with his stupid sneaks. sometimes you wonder how you ended up with that man, genuinely asking eywa if he was…okay? it wasn’t even normal sneak he does. sometimes neteyam even hides and secretly loves to watch you take a bath, knowing you won’t technically take a bath only. he would find himself palming his stiff cock under his loincloth hearing your soft mewls as you please yourself.

possessive!neteyam is jealous two times worse when people mess with what’s his. neteyam was known for growing up being the giver and never the taker, but when it comes to you? fuck taking and giving cause everyone should know you’re his and his only. and so, that’s why now at this time, neteyam got you all fours while pounding into your abused cunt harsh. “fuck yeah, those bitches better know who you scream for. you’re mine.” he huffs, leaning to your back and pulling you up by your neck. “you. are. mine.” he grunts sternly.

possessive!neteyam likes to steal your panties, that’s a hidden persona of him that nobody must know but obviously you know. he steals them when he goes out for a war party, knowing he’s gonna be alone and there’s no source of contact with you for few days. he uses those garments to jack off at night, slightly satisfying him for a while. but once he’s back home, you’re not gonna be able to walk straight for days. or worse, weeks.

possessive!neteyam definitely loves marking you, biting on your neck to imprint the sharp edge of his teeth. your scream is what arouse hum more. neteyam is not a into pain or never likes watching you in pain but there’s something different about this one, him having you pressed to the mattress while his arms are sneaked and holding your legs to your chest while his hips snapped vaguely. “you’re so fucking small and tight, baby.”

© loaksbitch 2k23 — please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without permission.

[bemylord]

↠ toji with a virgin s/o ↞

pairing: toji fushiguro x fem!reader.

warnings: nsfw, aged up, size kink [?], oral [fem!receiving], virgin reader, first time, lost of virginity, praising, toji calls himself daddy, grammar errors.

word counter: 3.2k

rq: I would like to request a oneshot? a hc would be appreciated too though. Toji with a virgin gf who can’t even make herself cum? Just how he would like to destroy her :)

butler's remark: (◕‿◕) hello lord, i'm back with an oneshot with toji being tremendously tender with his lover for the first time. in addition, reader is a citizen. sorry, i did it soft, bc i think toji will super-extra-super soft for the first time with his s/o, only for the first. i hope you'll like that, thanks for the request ;)

disclaimer: everything you read is purely my opinion - any detail, sketch, or event is a figment of my imagination.

you've been an ordinary citizen and had never planned to date a sorcerer or someone close to this specialty. you ain't cowardly, merely as you were thinking you'll marry a simple man and will have kids with him, and die in one day like lovebirds.

you had never considered yourself being stuck in a relationship with a sorcerer killer.

you were overworked, virtually sleeping as were walking in the empty street, dreaming to get home as soon as possible, to feel the silk sheets against your back. the area where your office was located had little street lighting, although, you hadn't felt the anxiety of being robbed or something worse. the day went lingeringly and horrible due to the boss who declared you as a temporary deputy, piled you up with a stack of papers.

but, this is life, anything might happen. all of a sudden, you overheard something behind you but as you looked back - there was nobody, as soon as you turn your head to the starting position, you saw a young, skinny man who is holding a knife in his hand.

'hmm~ look who's here, a young, gorgeous lady..' he said with his disgusting, lewd voice, coming closer to you. 'would you mind playing with me? don't be shy or els-'

you have a perky personality, no doubt, but because of how hard the day was, you had one option - run for the hills. before you could do any movements as if hit the man or run away, something prompt hit him, like a swift meteorite that you couldn't see. a cloud of dust grew around you and the man, so you hide your face in the elbow curve, covering your mouth with another hand.

as soon as the dust had settled, in front of you opened up on the view of an adult man. he was high, had an athletic, broad-shouldered, pretty impressive figure. your savior held the blade in one hand, flopped on his back.

'he ran away like a coward. don't worry, girl, you saved, thanks to me' he laughed, he stroked himself on the shoulder, as were about to leave the dead body.

'no i'm not! i'd have protected myself on my own'

you refuted his smugness, watching as he slowly moves his torso in your way, flaunting his outlining muscles through the fabric of the black t-shirt. his complacent eyes and the sharp scar over the right side of the mouth on the edge of his lips. you took a deep breath, continuing on your path as he isn't standing there, not hadn't protected you.

'you're too weak to beat even him, if not me, you'd be-'

'i am stronger as i may look'

he giggled, in a flash stood in front of you, bending over to your face, by finger tugs your face up to look at him directly in eyes, smirked.

'are you sure, girl?'

those green, almost emerald, but cold eyes looked directly into yours as two faces were as closed as you could kiss his lips.

'i'll walk you home'

'i don't want to, and anyway, maybe you're his partner in crime, leave me alon-'

previous to you had finished your phrase, he threw your tiny body on his shoulder, leisurely walking, better say, carrying you home. you beat his back, softly reminiscent of a parody of the word 'let me go, moron, i can walk by myself'

'tch, fine, idiot,' he deliberately shrugged his shoulder to close your mouth as heard the name you had given him. 'by the way, what's your name or you prefer the name idiot?' you said sarcastically.

'for you it's toji'

well.

as a result of your crawl and also being talkative when clearly you shouldn't be, you ended up being in a relationship with a man, who'd obviously fuck you on the first date, as it may count as a 'date', anywhere-anytime, by the way.

although you wouldn't ever say he isn't hot or sexy, conversely, you willingly allow him to breed, precisely you'd beg toji to breed you on the straightaway on the cervix, but for one thing.

you're a virgin.

hilariously - it's true. nothing bad to be in your age a virgin, but if you weren't dating toji it'd fine: his dirty jokes and lustful eyes which are maddening you insane, also his fucking athletic body which is outlining through the t-shirt or white cotton shirt [he wear it once] you thought he did it purposely: he knew your secret, undoubtedly could sniff your chaste nature as if you can emit fragrance.

on the second date, it had been nine days since you got acquainted with him, as you moved in with him. toji was exceedingly obsessed with every step of yours - he followed you from the work, in the mall or market, for your security and control every guy who'd be close to you.

although, you couldn't hide your addiction - he's a drug you should be careful with or you might be addicted as if you ain't. he isn't wearing pants in home, walking in front of you solely in underwear. he could walk from the shower in a terry towel wrapped around his torso as he buries his hands in his dark hair mess it up.

'what are you looking at, girl?'

you couldn't take your eyes off his bulging..

'you. just you. i'm gonna cook dinner, something.. special?'

'eggs, baby'

fushiguro put hands above the door frame, exhale and tensed every muscle, narrowing predatory eyes as you were the extraction he was target for. you're laying on his king size bed [lol i'm sorry i'm out], wondering is everything he has gotten measured in king size as he interupted your reflection by putting the knee on the edge of the bed.

'mine. in your pussy'

as if you're bewitched - you couldn't talk, just contemplate as he leisurely moves towards you. you couldn't contravene as he tugs your face to ogle in your absentminded eyes as you're avoiding his gaze, looking at the ceiling or door or even window. not. at. his. bulge.

your heart had stuck in your throat when toji ran his hand under his shirt, certainly, he has a kink of dominion, when he suddenly stopped. despite of your uncertainty and timid of subsequent play, you looked at his emerald eyes as he licks his lips with a tongue.

'are you sure, baby girl? i mean, it's your first time after all'

you quell your forthcoming question staring deeply into lascivious eyes, put hands on his massive shoulders. as you anticipated, his cock twitched as toji letting out a low groan in your ear, kissing your temple. you're absentmindedly running finger pads on his back, not knowing the proximity of bodies that are readiness wanted to intertwine together. not knowing how much it turns him on.

'stop me if i go crazy over your body, okay?'

as if. as if you dare would rip out his tongue off your crotch as he makes you his woman. toji left on your red cheeks quick kisses, took off the towel. you shut your eyes tight, still holding his shoulders barely squeeze them, letting out a hushed moan.

after you quelled your moan, toji touched your lips against his one, running fingers on your lower stomach to the cup of the breast without touching the hard nipple. light movements mixed with his muted groans. his pads deftly touched one areola as you emitted a sharp purr, arching your back a little as a dulcet sign for toji.

you dug your fingers into toji's back, as he put a finger on your hard nipple, holding himself as to grab your tits and clench it in his large hand.

you gasp for the air as if there was a catastrophic shortage of it due to the pressed body of toji. you responded at his deep kiss, wrapping hands around his neck, apparently begging for something more.

he pulled away from the kiss just to take off the shirt he has given you, baring your untouched by no one but him tits, leading palms onto breasts, skipping nipples between the gaps through fingers. he reached down to your lips to give a bit of warning kiss as he slightly bit your lip, kissing all the way down to your collarbone, finally leaving there manifestations of hickeys.

for how long toji has been stopped from leaving on your stunning skin his marks? it seems it has been absolutely not many days but toji, as you may see, clearly has to leave labels on your neck.

he dug his teeth into your neck, frantically wants your area to be dotted by him as a token for everyone meaning: she's taken, dude, don't mess up with her.

for how long toji has been stopped from touching your sensitive area as having been feel warmth and tenderness is emitted from your body?

toji squeezes your nipple imponderable, to make you feel some kind of power over you becoming submitted by toji fushiguro, a sorcerer killer, a man who owned you, spinning the pea between pads, making you let out whimpers.

'you drive me insane, little one,' he approached his face close to the breasts, touched your pea with his tongue cautiously, as not to frighten you away. 'i'm gonna make your pussy drool beneath me, completely own you as my little girl'

you feel yourself gush beneath him, burying hands in his messy hair as your breath has stuck in the throat as toji snuggles his lips on your tits, sucking your hard and probably swollen from teasing. fushiguro has made you became wet in your panties as he's moistening your breast, hearing your precipitous whimpers.

'toj-toji, i don't know-'

'tch, little girl, relax your body and let daddy do the rest'

as he pronounced, he moves down, leaving the trace of wet kisses on your stomach, massaging your hips, stopping his action to look at your red face. your chest heaves heavily every time you feel toji's silky lips on your belly as his finger pads caressing your thighs. as if something weighty is resting on your chest you take deep breathes, breathlessly exhaling.

'spread your legs'

you obediently did what he said, hesitating a bit as the only fabric holding him back to bury his mouth against your pussy, assembling all juices, tasting your cum as if it's his meal. he rested kisses on the fabric of panties, couldn't sate with tender kisses he spreads on your body.

deliberately run tongue on your labia through the thin fabric as you were about to push his hand from your crotch as toji grab you by the hips, pulling you closer. he slackens his teasing actions by kissing your inner thighs. as your cunt was lack of attention from toji, you let out a pliant whimper, approximately woefully have purred.

toji's self-restraint thinning as you're silently begging with your eyes and your hands immeasurably are burying in his dark hair. the tip of his tongue deftly sideline panties, flicked it, as he discovered a divine view on your drooling hole.

'stop me now, because i won't be able to hold back later'

teasufully kissing your labia and area around the place he should be playing with as anticipating for some pliant whimpers of you, deliberately showing you he'll lick that swollen clit, pressing a soft kiss on the skin instead. fushi's shattering your hopes of being eating every time he kissed literally everything and lick everywhere besides your hole and clit. he acts like an inexperienced teenager, notwithstanding, you know that toji'd ruin or demolish your holes like a monster.

't-toji..'

'yes, my little girl' he pressed the tip of his tongue on your clit, hearing those moans he's willing to listen for the rest of his life, then take away as you were about to press his mouth back again, digging his tongue deep inside you, although he obviously couldn't reach to your cervix, barely permeate in your hole.

'you want me to eat your little pussy?'

as if you can't talk, you nodded. scarcely reached up to take off the last thing, leisurely pulling down the panties, staring at you as a predator. toji is standing on his knee on the bed, threw your ankles on his shoulders, smooching ankles watching as to how your cheeks are becoming pinky, as you try not to look at his dick. still, you're a timid one, despite your words.

he reached to your face to give you a voluptuous kiss, returning to the starting position.

'look at your pretty pussy'

he kissed your clit in a flash replace into the tongue, making a circles on swollen and needy spot, decisively giving you what've been begging for. running the tip of the tongue on your virgin hole, leaving it for the dessert, returning to your clit.

you'd swear to god you can see stars in the ceiling as toji squeezing your nipples while moistening you. the proximity of his face in your pussy is driving you insane, for the days of cohabitation you understood he isn't a tender one, vice versa, he'd fuck you whenever his dick gets erect. maybe it's a rush of tenderness, maybe it's the fear of hurting his girl. nevertheless, you not scared to give toji full control of your body and bring you to your first orgasm by ripping the hymen. if that's i may call the way he's licking you, it'd be make-out with your pussy, due to his relentless movements by flicking his tongue on the clit.

'baby,' he pulled away from it, as you squeeze a sheet, making your knuckles become whiten as you spread legs wider, watching his mocking grin appeared on the face. 'i'll be gentle' he pressed his lips on your forehead, taking from the bedside table lubrication to low the friction. although, the thought of his dick ripped the hymen, putting all his tenderness in your first time, make your knees get shaken.

he put a soft kiss on your lips, smearing lubrication on his dick, substitute cock on the entrance. abrupt and penetrating pain wavily covered your body as you feel soft lips covered your mouth, blunting the pain with one hand being dug in your hip, painting illegible traces. another hand he put on your cheek, drawing circles with his thumb, waiting till getting used to the pain.

toji will find lots of red stripes from your nails on his back, smirked, as reminiscing about that special night when he made you his woman. his broad back was made merely for you to leave thousand and thousand fingernail impressions every night. toji had let a low groan as he feels as you move fingertips to the neck, exhaling in his chest.

he entered all his dick inside you feeling as your walls compressing the base, getting used to being full with his thick cock. you're indulging at the new, mind-blowing feeling, give him sheepish kisses as you're scared to be rejected. he moves his palm from the cheek to the ear, running fingers through your tangled but soft to the touch. you nudged your hips up, intermittently letting your breath out.

'tch, if you're not feeling well, i can come-'

'more, toji, more'

without breaking up kiss, he pulled out cock to the tip as pulling it again slowly, stretching your walls, touching with the tip your cervix as his balls touching your ass, groaning in the kiss, softly caress your thigh. you moved your palms to the shoulder, touching the musculature, going down to the biceps wrapping his arm as another hand attempting to draw patterns on the back as if it a canvas for you.

you can feel every vein, curve, and the way his tip is expanding gummy walls, as toji diligently coming in, adjusting inside you then pulling out. you're focusing on how full you're with his cock inside, your clarity gradually getting mushed as the sharp pain turning into a pleasurable and delightful feeling. sating to the new feeling might get addiction, but you're far beyond to accept that, surrendering to your lover as he gets addicted to it. you grasp for his shoulders, as he nudged in you, leaving whimpers from your mouth.

'like that, huh?' he pulled his cock out to contemplate as your facial expression have changed: you furrowed eyebrows as felt your hole being empty without thick toji's cock, practically purring like a march cat. 'beg me for it, baby'

what an insatiable man you've got. he licked his lips, looking down on it. your hymen has left blood, as he glanced at you to see his future wife your reaction.

'i-i toji, it's..'

he hummed, returning to your lips, slowly giving back the missing part.

'you okay?' you nodded as a response; he's perceiving fullness as wants to fill you up, but desperately be tempered himself, blaming he didn't wear a condom to do it. a dozen of half-moons will be littering your hips as toji's digging nails, scrambled your mind with squelches pushes in your hole. 'relax, baby girl, i'm here' he thrusts inside the spongy spot, ripping another moan out of you, voluptuous to his ears. 'baby~ you tease me with those moans of yours'

his cock was aimed at a place inside your vagina, with a slow but deep thrust skillfully reaching your cervix, massaging with the tip of his cock that spot. toji's staring at your pleased, satisfied face as he found that needy place of yours.

holding on to the headboard in the bed as support, clutching the sheet with his other hand like the composure he was rapidly losing with each thrust into your hole, formerly virgin cunt, letting out a heavy sigh, tilting his head back.

wiggling the pelvis backward and forwards as heard beneath his body your whimpers, feeling replenishment on his skin to his previous strips, losing remains self-control as your walls have been clenching his cock, as your body gets shaking as his, preparing the body for the coming ecstasy.

'toji, mh~' you tilted the head back on the pillow, wrapping legs around his pelvis, quelling moans while arching back against his chest. you're milked [? correct if i'm wrong] his cock, shuddering. you felt his lips on your cheeks, as he's covering your wet face in kisses, pulling cock out.

'damn, baby, probably-' he stroke his hard cock a couple of times before releasing his cum onto your belly. fushiguro ran fingers from the hairline, wiping beads of sweat from the hairline through hair. 'are you good?'

as you're still catching your breath you rested on your face a slight smile, closing eyes. he giggled, getting out of bed.

'almost made a baby' it took him a second or two, to lift you up in my arms, leading into the bathroom. 'i'm gonna clean you up, my baby. but you could fall asleep in my arms, you did such a good job by taking my cock' he kissed your forehead, wiping your drops of sweat.

'i love you, toji'

he put you on the washing machine, turning away from you to fill the tub. what went unnoticed was his relaxed smile after your phrase.

'i love you more, little one'

(◕‿◕)

↳ back to the main master list.

i feel i made lots of mistakes, like, idk. correct me if smth i did wrong.

i remember my promise to do one more work with toji, so lately i'll write hdc + drabble with him.

[spaceskam]

a follow up to this fic

AO3

Michael liked the ring.

Of course he liked the way it made him feel, the way it's power seemed to make him feel comfortable in his own skin above all else. It was no longer a power high as much as it was like a security blanket or a favorite shirt.

The power, however, didn't escape him.

He never really had to strain before, but this was a different beast. With a thought he could read people's aura, move multiple things at once, feel around larger areas than he even knew what to do with. It was fun and felt like he could really breathe for the first time in a long time. He did his best to not rely on it too much, to make sure he didn't get too used to the power it gave him, but he couldn't help but enjoy it.

Alex was slowly but surely getting more comfortable with him wearing it as well. At first, he babied him incessantly and was so sure it was going to overload him somehow and that it was going to kill him or something. He still watched him, spent all his free time with Michael to make sure the ring wasn't effecting him negatively. Michael couldn't complain about it.

"So, this group you're working with. Do they know this exists?" Michael asked, inspecting the ring on his finger. It didn't occur to him until just then that maybe he shouldn't just leave it on his left hand like that.

"As far as I can tell, no," Alex said, sighing as he looked up from what he was working on. It was just a notebook full of crude sketches of his actual project. Michael wanted to help, but the thing couldn't leave Deep Sky and Michael couldn't go there, so he simply had to listen to Alex speak and bounce ideas off him.

It was probably the most fun he'd ever had in his entire life.

"But I'm not about to risk them trying to hunt it down before me. I need to be a step ahead, at least. I'm so fucking tired of being stupid about things," Alex said. Michael rolled his eyes.

"You're far from stupid, Alex."

"Too trusting which is a form of stupidity."

"It's not a bad thing to be trusting, it's other people's fault for taking advantage," Michael insisted.

Alex sighed and looked at him. He was so tired. He always did. Michael was never good at figuring out what to do to help that other than instigate. Maybe he could try to persuade him, but somehow that felt like a dead end.

"People are never going to stop taking advantage, so why should I remain open to being taken advantage of?"

"Okay, fine, point made. But still, I like that about you. The way you don't automatically assume people have shitty intentions. It's, like, the exact opposite of me," Michael said. A smile tugged at Alex's mouth and he let it show just a bit, leaning against the table.

"You assume everyone has bad intentions?" Alex asked, "Even me?"

Michael scoffed, his heart thrumming and the ring on his finger all but singing in delight. That was another fun thing about the ring. It always encouraged positive feelings.

"Now you know damn well–"

Without much warning, the hatch to the bunker opened and caused them to break eye contact as they both looked up. Sanders stood there looking as grumpy as ever.

"What do you want, old man?" Michael asked, only having to feign his annoyance a little bit. As much as he didn't like having his moments with Alex interrupted, it wasn't so bad when he knew he had more.

That knowing was everything.

"You and the boyfriend gettin' along now?" Sanders asked. Michael's neck felt hot and he didn't dare look at Alex. He felt like a teenager being caught all of the sudden.

"Can you not make it weird?"

"Weird for who?" Alex asked. Michael's eyes went to him, Alex's face with a small smirk and his head tilted. He looked so good. Happy. The ring was damn near vibrating with joy again his skin.

"We're talking about research," Michael responded instead. Sanders grunted.

"Sure, research."

"We are!"

"I believe that as far as I can throw you," Sanders said. Michael scratched his arm, trying to dilute the feeling building up inside him. It was overwhelming, an overdose of goodness that the ring amplified. "Right, well, I was just reminding you that Jane Garcia is still bringin' that truck in an hour and you're the only hands that have touched it in a decade, so can't have someone else doin' it for you."

"She needs to just get a new one," Michael responded, relieved to change the subject despite Alex's eyes still being on him. He couldn't say he minded that.

"You ain't got no room to talk with that thing out there," Sanders huffed. Michael grinned, shrugging his shoulders.

"I can get away with it, I know what I'm doing."

Sanders grunted in response. "Sure, kid. Just be out here when she gets here."

"Got it," Michael said, giving a thumbs up. Sanders rolled his eyes and closed the hatch, leaving him alone with Alex again.

"You can go get set up, I'm good down here," Alex said. Michael settled his gaze on him again, feeling warm and sated and really not having any intention to leave him.

However, they locked eyes for all of half a second before Alex breathed a sharp intake and stood up straight.

Michael's excitement started to leak out of him and was replaced with complete concern. He sat up straighter, his feet hitting the ground as he tried to maintain eye contact with Alex.

"What?" he said, "What happened?"

"Your eyes," Alex breathed, his eyebrows pulling together.

"Huh? What about them?" Michael asked, mindlessly reaching up to rub them. When he pulled his hands away, there wasn't anything on them.

"They're... glowing," Alex said, coming closer, "Well, they were. Went away when I said something."

Alex grabbed Michael's chin without any hesitation, tilting his head back to look at them. Michael instantly became malleable under his grip. It'd been too long to be otherwise. He let his face relax, let his body dwell in the delight it caused and let the ring sing in response.

"It was like you were lighting up from the inside or something, like you literally glowing. Just showed mostly in your eyes," Alex said, still concerned as he manuvered Michael's head this way and that to look at him in different angles. "It's because of that fucking ring."

"You think?" Michael murmured, still staring up at him. His heart thudded in his chest, his mind going wild at the tactile attention. Alex's eyes widened again.

"It's doing it again," Alex murmured, placing the back of his other hand on Michael's forehead, "You're warm. Warmer than usually. How do you feel? Maybe you should take it off before you become a fucking lamp. Do you feel alright?"

"Good," Michael said. Alex blinked, stilling his movements as he looked at him rather than the glow.

"What?"

"I feel good, Alex," he said simply. Alex swallowed and he dropped his hands from him. They were silent a beat before Alex bit the inside of his cheek, holding back whatever expression his face wanted to show. A smile, hopefully.

"You stopped glowing," Alex said. He huffed a laugh, his eyes scanning the room before landing back on Michael. "So you're a glowstick now?"

"You think it's the ring?"

"What else could it be? It amplifies your powers, right? So the longer you wear it, the more it becomes accostomed to you and how you work. So I'm sure the longer you wear it, the more it'll do. But we should definitely work on you not glowing without your permission every time you feel good," Alex said, watching him still. It was less concern now, more intrigue.

Michael wanted him to touch him again, to experiment as much as his heart desired.

"Okay, just, like, throw something at me if I start glowing," Michael said. Alex laughed.

"I'm not going to throw something at you," he said, "But I'll let you know."

"I don't think it's like an actually problem, just when I get overwhelmed. The ring had kinda helped regulate that, though," Michael said. Alex tilted his head in confusion.

"It's helped when you're overwhelmed?"

"Yeah. Like either a distraction or it's amplifying the good feelings. It's, like, stretching it's leg, you know? It's this thing that has gone untouched for so long and it's just happy to be in use. So it wants me to feel good, wants me to use it. And when I feel good, it just reacts to that and then I feel really good," Michael explained, "It's a wedding ring. It's probably used to being used in that context. Happy ever after context."

Alex breathed, his fingers twitching at his side. Michael couldn't tell if it was the ring or just his own desperation that was screaming for Alex to touch him again. He really didn't think it mattered.

"You we're glowing when I was touching you," Alex stated. Michael nodded obediently. "And you stopped whenever I stopped." Michael nodded again.

"I believe it."

"And you're just... happy?" Alex said.

"I'm spending time with you," Michael said simply, shrugging, "No fighting or tension. Just spending time and talking about research. Why the fuck would I be anything else?"

Alex watched him, taking a step forward. Even though he was already so close. Now he was close enough that Michael's thighs bracketed his legs.

"You've been different since you started wearing that thing," Alex said, fingers catching Michael's sleeve.

"I've been different since I got over my shit and got some openness between us," Michael said. Alex clearly fought a smile and lost, a grin splitting his mouth and the back of hand rubbed over Michael's arm.

"You really thing the ring has nothing to do with it?" Alex said.

Michael shrugged. "I can't say that. I know it definitely gave me a little push, but the things I'm feeling are all 100% mine."

"And what are you feeling exactly?" Alex asked, his hand trailing up into his hair. He seemed to be gravitating closer, leaning down as Michael craned up. Michael resisted the urge to just pull him into his lap at this point.

"Happy," Michael answered, "Obsessed with you. First is new, second one isn't."

Alex breathed out, swallowing hard. He looked away for a moment, but his eyes eventually came back to him.

"You can't say shit like that," Alex whispered, reprimanding him with a soft tug on the hair at the tape of his neck. Michael's lips parted. He wasn't really sure how to tell when he was glowing just yet, but he was sure that he was now.

"Why not?"

"I might get ideas," Alex said teasingly, leaning a little more. His hand was resting on his chest while the other was in his hair, Michael's hands trying not to take initiative and just grab him.

"Get them," Michael said. And Alex laughed. And it was sweet. And he was close enough to kiss.

"Michael..." Alex said, right there. His eyes flickered around his face, hovering on his lips. Michael could feel his breath on his face.

"Alex," Michael responded, finally touching him. He put his hands on the back of his thighs, urging him closer. Alex smiled wider.

"You're glowing again," Alex said, breath caressing his face. It was teasing at this point. "I wonder how bright you can get."

"Wanna test it?" Michael asked.

Alex looked at him, looking over him before he nodded.

"Yeah, I do."

Alex leaned closer, their noses bumping.

And then there was knocking on the hatch before it was opened up.

Alex moved back, flushed. Michael flexed his hand as a silent command to drain him from any residual glow. He hoped it was successful.

"You forgot how to tell time, boy?!" Sanders called down. Michael evened his breath and tried to calm down his body's natural reaction to Alex being so close.

"Yeah!" he said, "I'll be up in a second!"

Sanders grunted in response, leaving the hatch open before walking away. Michael huffed a laugh and looked to Alex who looked like he was on the verge of laughing as well. A couple second of staring and he did, both of them bubbling with laughter and excitement at being caught in such a casual way.

A normal way.

"I gotta go," Michael said, "But you can stay. Won't be too long."

"Take your time," Alex said, "I'll be here."

Michael nodded, knowing he would be.

"Alright," Michael said.

"Alright," Alex agreed.

"Alright."

*Go," Alex laughed, shooing him. Michael obeyed, heading to the ladder and all but flying up them.

Michael's heart and the ring on his finger thrummed in tandem, all singing on the high that was Alex Manes.

Alex Manes, Alex Manes, Alex Manes

[companionjones]

Triggers of Desire

Pairings: Lord Asriel x Fem!Reader

Fandom: His Dark Materials (HBO)

Summary: You stop Asriel from doing something terrible. The two of you argue about it. Things ensue (though not directly resulting from the arguing).

Warnings: Cursing, SMUT, Mommy kink, Dom!Reader, Sub!Asriel

*******

    “Don’t you dare,” you warned.

    “Dare to what?” Lord Asriel questioned. “I know what my life is for, what I was born for. She is not a part of that plan.”

    You were shaking, livid. “Say her fucking name, you arsehole! Her name is Lyra. She is your daughter!”

    “Not in any way that counts!”

    “Stop pulling that shit, and take responsibility for once in your goddamn life!”

    “Responsibility?! I was responsible when I left her at Oxford when she was born!”

    “Yes, and that’s the only good thing you’ve ever done, and that’s including all this so called ‘work’.”

    Asriel’s face twitched. “Now you’re the one who dares--”

    “Were you going to kill that child?” you interrupted. Your voice was deadly calm.

    He clenched his jaw. He stayed silent.

    “If I hadn’t stopped you and told you of the ripple that I found, would you have killed Roger to create your own doorway?”

    “...You know I would have.”

    That ripped your heart in two. “Jesus Az.” You sat down on your bed. “When did you get like this? When we were in school together, you were ambitious, yes, but you...you had a heart. I know that much.” You finished, leaving out some details you didn’t want brought up in that moment. “And when you started dating Marisa...Dammit Az, I had never seen you so happy.”

    “Don’t bring up that vile woman now.” He was facing the fireplace then.

    You furrowed your brow. “I thought you loved her. Even after all those years...”

    “She sent her daemon to attack Lyra. Hurt her,” Asriel spat.

    “See? Was that so hard? Using her name?” you almost teased. “I knew a part of you loved that girl.”

    “Now who’s not using her name?”

    If you didn’t know any better, you’d say Asriel was teasing you, too.

    He paused for a moment. Asriel sighed. He sounded tired. “I don’t think I ever loved Marisa.”

    You couldn’t help but laugh. “Then why--?”

    “Because I couldn’t have the woman I truly loved.”

    Your heart stopped. “...Why bring this up now?”

    “Because,” he turned around to face you, “It’s why I’ve distracted myself all this time with my work. It’s why I’ve become obsessed.”

    “So it’s my fault now?” You were on your feet.

    “No!” He cursed. “It’s mine. It’s just...seeing you after all this time. Thinking about how Jeffery--”

    “Jeffery’s dead,” you blurted.

    Asriel looked as if he had just gotten the wind knocked out of him.

    “Two years ago, he went out on an expedition...and he didn’t come back. His men said that he had fallen from a cliff.”

    A heavy silence filled the space between you and Asriel.

    “What are you doi--”

    Lord Asriel had been crossing the room to you, and he cut you off by capturing your lips with his.

    You moaned at the impact. Asriel’s hands went to the base of your head and the small of your backs when you were too surprised to touch him at all.

    “Az--” you tried once the kiss broke.

    But he was already talking again. “I’ve wanted to do that for...so long, but you and him were already together by the time we met. When you got engaged as soon as we graduated, I...I thought I lost my chance with you forever.” Asriel kissed you once-twice more before his lips trailed down your cheek to your neck.

    Finally, you could speak, but you weren’t sure you were able. When your gaze met his again, only one question left your lips. You thought back to all the little moments you shared with Asriel. All those times you caught his gaze lingering on your lips. You assumed he caught you in the same way many times. “You thought it was one-sided?”

    Asriel’s eyes darkened. His pupils started to dilate. His gaze shifted back to your lips with a newfound hunger. “You mean...to tell me...all this time...that you’ve felt the same?” he grunted between assaults.

    “Always,” you gasped.

    “Then why not say something? I would’ve taken you away. We could’ve had a life together.”

    “At what cost? I was already with Jeffery. If I left him and ran away with you...Do you have any idea what that would have done to our reputations?”

    He growled, “I have never once in my life cared about my reputation. Had you said the word, I would have taken you away. Damn everyone else’s thoughts.”

    The feeling of Asriel’s mouth all over you and the words leaving his mouth had caused you to not notice he had been undressing the both of you. You didn’t notice you were naked until your bare back hit the bed. Asriel was already on top of you, lips trailing down again.

    “Wait.” The word left your mouth out of shock.

    He did so. His eyes met yours again. His head was hovering over yours.

    Again, a thick silence settled over the two of you.

    “Do you want me to stop?” He swallowed, causing his Adam’s apple to bob.

    It only took you so long to respond because the word had taken so long to travel from your brain to your lips. “No.”

    Asriel took a shaking breath. It was clear to you how much he was holding himself back. “...I need to hear you say it.”

    His eyes were glued to your lips. So were yours to his. You didn’t know if you could handle what was coming. “Take me, Lord Asriel.”

    He leaned down, and captured your lips again. He breathed in the scent of you, and on his exhale, Asriel’s hands traveled up and squeezed your breasts.

    You gasped, as the action took you off guard.

    Asriel used the opportunity to slowly lick your tongue before his mouth started making a wet path down your jaw to your tits.

    “Fuck, Asriel,” you moaned when his lips closed around your nipple. You could feel his tongue rolling over the sensitive bud. His hand was tending to your other breast, his fingers pinching and tugging at your nipple there.

    At your loud moans in response, Asriel’s cock twitched. You could feel the hard member pressing against the inside of your thigh. He was only getting harder. He switched what he was doing to your breasts.

    One particular shock of pleasure caused you to call out and pull Asriel’s hair, and he reacted with moan and an involuntary thrust into your thigh. You could feel his face heat up on your tits, and made a mental note of the button you could push (or in that case, pull).

    Eventually, Asriel left your chest. His mouth trailed down your stomach.

    “Asriel, what are you doing?”

    His eyes met yours as he sucked at the inside of your right thigh.

    You almost drooled at the sight of him between your legs.

    Asriel must’ve known exactly what he was doing to you, because when his lips left your skin, he wore a mischievous smirk that you had not seen since you were in school together. “I thought it was obvious.” He kept eye contact with you as he leant down and licked a long stripe up your cunt.

    You tried to keep yourself propped up on your elbows so you could match his gaze, but you fell back and your eyes shut tight almost as soon as Asriel made contact. The strangled moan that left your lips was the most lewd sound you had ever made.

    Asriel’s hand moved up and down your leg as encouragement. He only parted from your lips long enough to express to himself, “Oh god, yes.”

    The last person to interact with you like that had been Jeffery, and...Well, the two of you had grown apart toward the end of your husband’s life. It had been a long time for you. Besides time, you had always been jealous of Marisa for having Asriel when you couldn’t, but in that moment, you were jealous of the woman for a whole other reason. Asriel had a gift. You didn’t last long with his mouth working on you.

    “Asriel-Asriel, oh god. Oh god, yes. Asriel, I think I’m gonna...”

    Vaguely, through the deafness your pleasure caused, you could hear Asriel. “Come for me. Please, come for me.”

    As your stomach and legs tightened up, you grabbed a fistful of Asriel’s hair and tightened your grip as well.

    His moan against your lips was enough to send you over the edge. “Oh, god...oh Asriel...”

    When you came to, Asriel was already making out with you again. It took you a moment to put together what he was saying. “...need you...right now.” Asriel pulled away from you. “You need to tell me in this moment if you can’t do this because once I’m inside you, I won’t be able to stop.” One of his hands was playing with your breast while the other was sliding his cock up and down your folds, spreading the slick. As if things weren’t already slick enough.

    You tugged him down to you using the back of his neck. You ordered, “Fuck me, Lord Asriel.”

    It barely took him a second to comply.

    You gasped when he entered you, and Asriel groaned, “Oh, darling.” He scrambled to find your mouth to kiss.

    While catching your breath from his thrusts, “Good boy,” slipped from your lips.

    It seemed to knock the air out of Asriel. He snapped his hips into you. The man whimpered.

    “You like that?” The corners of your mouth turned upward.

    Asriel didn’t respond. He stayed buried deep inside you. He seemed to be working very hard at keeping his breathing normal.

    You had no problem taking control. Suddenly, you flipped the two of you over.

    “Are you my good boy?” you smiled. You leaned down to kiss Asriel as you humped his cock. Making your way down his jaw to his neck, you repeated, “My good, good boy...my baby...”

    As time went on, it got harder and harder for Asriel to hold back his moans and whimpers. One of his hands slid up to the back of your neck. “Y/n...”

    Licking up to his ear, you whispered, “You think you can call me ‘mommy’?” You knew it was a risky move. Your kink wasn’t for everyone, but there wasn’t anybody you trusted more than your Asriel.

    His cock twitched inside you. “Keep going, m-mommy, please...”

    That was music to your ears.

    “Good boy,” you encouraged, “You gonna cum for me? Hm?” You gonna cum for mommy?”

    He looked so helpless as he nodded.

    “Then cum for me. Cum for me, baby. It’s okay. Let go.”

    “Oh god.” He tensed up. “Oh my god. Mommy-mommy, I gotta--” Without warning, he flipped the two of you over and started slamming into you.

    You tried keeping up with him, but you eventually fell back in ecstasy. Your orgasm overwhelmingly coursed through you.

    Immediately after you, Asriel filled you, and collapsed on top of you. As he came, “Mommy!” desperately flowed from his lips.

    Hearing it like that was enough to tighten your walls even more than they were before.

    That word fell from Asriel at least 20 more times before you two were done.

    After, as the two of you laid together, Asriel eventually whispered, “I am so sorry, darling. I shouldn’t have...I should have never even thought...”

    “I know, baby.” You pulled yourself closer to him. “I know.”

    He continued, “I think...I want to try to to be a better father.”

    That made you prop your arm up on an elbow so you could look at him. You stroked his cheek with your thumb. “Are you sure, baby? This is something you have to be sure of.”

    “I know, darling,” he nodded, “I know I want this. And...I know I want you by my side.”

    Your heart skipped a beat. You smiled. “Yeah?”

    His happy face matched yours. “Yes, darling. If you’ll have me.”

    “Of course I’ll have you, baby.” You kissed him. “Of course I will.”

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, I have more fics on His Dark Materials over on my page. You should check it out. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

[punemy-spotted]

In This Life and the Next — Chapter 1

It was Asleep in the Veins

Summary: They remember, but you forget. You can run from the ties that bind, but it'll be right into their arms.

Pairings: Immortal!Zemo x Reader; Immortal!Steve Rogers x Reader; Immortal!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Reader is Desi and Muslim Coded

Warnings: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT; Rape/Non-Con Elements; Deeply, Deeply Dark; Character Death Involved; Dubious Consent; Dark!Steve; Dark!Bucky; Dark!Zemo; Political/Mafia Elements; Obsessive/Manipulative Lovers; Workplace Sexual Harassment/Assault; Political Corruption; Slight Cosmic Horror

Notes: Sometimes my writing has a playlist and this time it just has a song, please enjoy Lahu Munh Lag Gaya while reading this. This is a fic that is going to be dark and as it develops, more warnings may be added. Please read at your own discretion and let me know if more things need to be tagged.

All of my work is 18+ Only, Minors DO NOT INTERACT. I do not consent to my work being posted anywhere besides Tumblr or Ao3 and I post my work there myself. Do not copy, translate, or repost any of my content.

What is pride, but the precedent before the fall?

How far will you fall, sweetling, before time brings you back to me?

It is in your blood.

It is the red earth under your racing feet, the heavy humidity of promised rain, the dhol-beat of your thudding heart. You can try to run from it — you do, sometimes — but it draws you back, draws you in, draws you home.

(The further you run, the tighter we will hold you.)

The open terrace is an invitation, the waiting archway is a portal — it only takes one step.

You always do this, don’t you? Your own little game, the running. When you love wolves, you might as well make yourself prey, racing down these sun-bright halls and daring them, sweetness, daring them to reach out of the shadows and take hold.

(Run, rabbit, run, but we are patient and we are watching…)

He lives there, in the corner of your memory, a promise and a threat. I will always find you.

So let him, little treasure, and paint your skin with the memory of his fingertips. Remind him, as he reminds you.

Let him come to you, let him chase you down the ramparts and catch you in the courtyard. Let him wrap his arms around your waist and twirl you in the air, let him hear the song of your laugh I have memorized you like a prayer, whispered into the crook of your neck.

He is sweetness. He is warmth, he is a memory you treasure in the dark.

He is dead.

Pay no attention to the dark clouds on the horizon.

Pay no attention to the shadows on his face.

He will love you — don’t you see, don’t you understand how you are mine — but he will use you, little lamb, until you are spent. You are a lifetime, a fire, and he will take all the light you have to offer and you will place your tombstone in the graveyard that is his heart.

You will forget.

He will not.

The red threads can be a noose too, if you aren’t careful, and sweetling you can never be too careful around him.

So run.

Run until your legs crumple, until you are too tired to crawl. Run because once you do he will not stop.

(Lips touched lips and through them touched blood…)

He has tasted the blood of your love, sweetling, do you truly think he’ll ever set you free?

The scream comes from your own throat.

You’re awake now, bathed in the light of the morning, panting from the last vestiges of the nightmare you have woken up from every morning for the past three weeks. Frantic, you reach for your neck like you’ve done every morning for the past three weeks, searching for blood.

And like every morning for the past three weeks, your hand comes away clean.

But you remember it don’t you, the jaws around your throat, biting down until you go limp in their grip? Run, rabbit, run…

You’re so tired of being afraid.

Your alarm is set to go off in thirty minutes, but you know you won’t be able to fall asleep in that time. Groaning softly, you roll out of bed and set it to snooze for the day lest it interrupts your shower. The lies you tell yourself about clearing your head this way will guide you through the rest of your routine.

You ache. A soreness in your bones, familiar and strange all at once. Running, constantly, from something you cannot explain or articulate, dreams you mull over and fail to understand. And then waking, frantic and screaming, begging for your life to thin air before the reality sinks in and you come to terms with this false safety.

The water of the shower does little to ease it, but it’s enough. Enough to push you through the rest of getting ready, reluctantly.

This life could have, should have, perhaps even would have been a fairytale. The culmination of your strife, years of clawing your way six feet out of that grave of constant study, exhaustion embedded in your bones, all to become this. All to stand at the right hand of the Man-Who-Could-Be-President, all to bring him coffee and papers and write the talking points of his speeches and make yourself Invaluable to the Movement you are so sureyou believe in.

Were.

Were so sure you believed in.

It’s a slow siege.

One piece of armor, then the next.

(Bet that lipstick leaves a mark.)

You stopped wearing red to work, settling for neutral lip balm and pretending it didn’t leave you vulnerable.

(It’s nice of you to dress the part.)

Those tailored suits you once loved wearing so much now sit as moth food in the back of your closet as you drape yourself in the ill-fitting and ill-designed.

(You have such lovely hair.)

Lovely, sitting messily in a clip so his fingers can never run through raven tresses again.

Look at you.

Look at you, standing in the mirror. Is this what you are? Is this what you want to be? Is this what your promise and ambition have led you to become, shadowed and cowering in your clothes? Where is your violence, where is your passion, where is the fire?

Who are you now, lamb-to-the-slaughter, lost sheep, girl in the woods?

You wake, you dress, you stare at yourself in the mirror again and in your heart, weep.

Baron, welcome, thank you for coming by. The brush of a hand against the nape of your neck has you turning from your desk and the papers strewn across it, facing yet more wolves in this den of your prison. The Senator gestures for you to stand and you do, keeping your gaze from his hungry eyes as yours scan over the guests he’s brought by.

Familiar faces.

And not, all at once. You know those shapes, the sly curve of that smile, the effortless tousle of brown hair and yet you don’t. Like seeing them in pieces, placed on the same canvas but sparking no proper recognition.

May I introduce you to the newest member of our staff, Miss… he pulls you in as he speaks, the smile on his face too wide and too warm to be anything but hiding fangs and you can feel the want pulsing through each word as he introduces you.

Ignore him.

Ignore the pressure of his hands on your shoulders, giving you a squeeze as he stands you in front of him like a trophy. Focus on the man in front of you, and the icy curiosity in his eyes.

Good morning, Baron Zemo there, that’s the name, and yet it sits wrong on your tongue, like there’s more to him that you know and don’t all at once, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea? Practice it. Steady it. Measure the words like you don’t feel the pressure on your shoulder, like you aren’t looking for any excuse to escape that roaming grip.

Does he see? Does he see the way you writhe in your own mind, crawling and raw and desperate? Is that way his gaze hardens when he glances idly to the senator and then back to you? It is my pleasure. And coffee, if you please — three, no need for cream or sugar.

Of course.

A man like him would hardly come alone and there they are, stepping in from the periphery of your vision, towering behind their employer. One dark-haired and the other blond, wearing armor and scowls and so very familiar. You know those eyes, ice and steel, and yet you don’t and — memories burst like bubbles to the pin of the very present reality of the Senator’s hand sliding down your upper arm, fingers brushing your chest you are not safe.

Choose. Now. Fight, flight, or freeze? Let them see the glittering fear behind your glasses and hope they’ll save you?

Stupid girl, don’t you know?

No one can save you but yourself.

Wrench yourself from the grip on your shoulder, stalk over to the coffeepot. Just past the Baron-who-isn’t My apologies, I must be in your way.

No, no, of course not, please make yourself comfortable.

Keep it bright.

Keep it chipper.

Don’t look back at the hungry eyes following you, don’t think about it, don’t let them see your spine be anything but titanium, don’t let the—the hand on your wrist is black-gloved and unyielding, spinning you around to face steel eyes and harsh finality We’ll take care of it.

Right.

Of course.

Sergeant Barnes, please. We need not frighten our friends. Baron Zemo’s voice is silk and warmth and you should not feel so safe in the honeysweetness.

The glove leaves your wrist. Sergeant Barnes? Stands still as a statue and you step back. They’ll take care of it, and they do. The other of the two, technically, pouring coffee and trading mugs until all five of you are warming your hands with fresh-brewed caffeine.

Senator. Shall we?

You’re alone. Baron Zemo slips into the Senator’s office and the door closes with a snap, leaving you in the presence of solemn and silent.

You should get back to work.

You should say something.

You should do a good many things.

So do it.

Work it is. You can feel the eyes on you, somewhere between curious and suspicious, while you shuffle papers and try to focus on the email you were drafting. Focus.

Focus.

Don’t look back.

Don’t look at the office door.

Don’t do anything but stare at those papers, write those emails.

Focus.

You should run, rabbit.

The silence comes with whispers, winding around your ear like curls of smoke, bidding you turn around and look at the statues behind you, search their faces, ask them questions. You have so many, sweet and polite, where is your chatter?

It’s an hour before the office door opens and Helmut Zemo’s honeysweet voice filters to your ears, I’m sure your Sokovian-American constituents will be quite pleased by the bill, Senator. We shall have to honor you for your dedication to our shared people at the embassy.

You stand without thinking, usually so used to only moving when the Senator bids you — mostly to keep yourself out of his grip — but the draw of his voice is undeniable. Like a moth to a flame, you burn your wings to please and meet the watchers’ icy eyes as you wait for the beacon to step into view.

He sees you. So thorough and careful, a feigned warmth around his countenance as eyes flicker over you. Searching. Hungry. You know to avoid the gaze of men like him and so you do, looking just past his face enough to hide your discomfort. Thank you for coming, Baron Zemo. We’re thrilled to have your support. Please let us know how we can be of assistance while you’re in the city.

You will regret those words, in time.

But for now? For now the Baron takes your hand and offers you a thin smile, bowing to press gentle lips to your knuckles, ignoring the way you flinch. It has been my pleasure, my dear.

It’s when he turns that you feel it. The pain in your left hand, drawing your eyes down to the threaded ring around your finger, now tight and burning. The drumbeat from your nightmares starts up again, thudding hard in your ears as your eyes follow the red thread stemming from them.

To the three men now walking out of the room.

Run, rabbit, run.

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Oppa Knows Best | Part 6

Word Count: 2.3k (short but super sweet) Genre: Angst, minimal smut Summary: How will Jaehyun react when you suggest that the two of you separate? 

Warnings: violence, blood, manipulation, abusive relationship, suicidal thoughts, dub-con

Gif credit “I think… I need some time to think about this.” You say, wrapping your robe tighter around your naked body and warily glancing at Jaehyun who was now dressed in his boxers and pacing around the room. Just as predicted, he stops abruptly at your words and turns to you with barely contained wrath and exasperation. He was at the edge of his rope and you could tell. “You’ve had your time! I’ve waited years for you!” 

You gulp, staring down at the knot tying your robe together, and seeing the thin fabric vibrate over your skin with the power of your erratic heartbeat. “I know but---can’t you wait just a little bit longer.... This is all too much for me and I-- I don’t know what I should do.”

“It’s always been too much for you. You’ve always run away from confronting this and I won’t let you run again. This ends tonight.” The finality of his words suffocates you. He has you trapped, forcing you to make a decision that you don’t even know if you can make. 

“I didn’t know...I never wanted to hurt you, oppa.” You put your head between your hands, but his accusations still cut their way through to you easily.  “You knew. No one is that fucking oblivious. You must’ve seen how you pulled away from me every time I tried to confess to you.” 

Guilt eats away at you as you remember all the times you had inexplicably shied away from him every time you seemed to get close to getting what you’ve always wanted from him. You never understood it. You would just close up--the blood in your veins drawing back to your heart and pooling into your abdomen, leaving your limbs cold and shaky. You’d feel so imperiled, like any utterance of his potential love for you would make you bleed out. It didn’t make any sense but it was just so overpowering, a survival instinct, that you were forced to follow it.  You couldn’t even discuss it with him, because how could you without revealing your true feelings for him? A prospect that terrified you just as much as the other one.

You shake your head, feeling your mind swelling up with confusion. “I can’t think right now, oppa.” 

“There is nothing to think about. You’ve been running from this for years and look where it led us. You tried going after someone else, and look where it led us. You want me and I want you. We are made for each other. There is nothing else to think about.” 

“But what if we’re not good for each other?” You whisper quietly, fearing the blasphemy your own tongue was speaking.  “What if it’s not healthy…”

“And who told you that, your barista boy?” Jaehyun accuses indignantly, “What the fuck does he know about us? You had no business involving him in our lives. We were doing just fine before he came along.”

“No, we weren’t!” You can’t help your outburst when he’s always refusing to acknowledge the flaws in your relationship. Just because he ignores them, doesn’t mean they’re not there. The least he could give you is to acknowledge your problems and reassure you that he sees them too and wants to solve them. “You were controlling my life and treating me like a slut for sleeping with other guys.”

“You were whoring around. I was protecting you!”

“This is exactly what I’m talking about! You keep hurting me, and you don’t give a shit! You are so obsessed with getting me that you are willing to break me down so I’d only have you to turn to.” You shrill, unable to hold back your emotions.

“And you chased away any woman I could possibly be with so I’d only have you!” He shouts right back at you, not missing a beat. 

The two of you are at a standstill, anticipating the other’s next attack, and you’re tired of it. You can’t keep doing this. So, full of worry and trepidation, you suggest, “Then maybe we should just stay away from each other for a bit. Take some time to look at things from a---”

“Don’t…” He grits out, fury coiling under his skin.

“I just think it might do us good if--”

“Absolutely not.” He barks at you, making you flinch back, and a thought like a parasite springs up into your mind, taking over you and forcing itself out into the world. “If you can’t even handle me stepping away for a bit then maybe we should just...stop.”

He stares at you in shock and betrayal, hardly believing what you were suggesting. “Don’t you dare.” He hisses, eyes red with tears. 

“We can’t keep hurting each other, oppa.” You futility try to explain yourself to him, and perhaps to yourself too.

“No. You can’t do this to me. Not after everything I’ve been through for you. I won’t let you.” He grabs you by the arm, shaking you roughly and jostling the tears out of your eyes.   “I love you so much, oppa, but--”

“No, fuck you!” He throws you on the bed, the veins in his neck bulging out as he screams at you. “You promised. You said you’ll never leave me.” 

Your fingers dig into the blanket under you, trying to find something to tether yourself to as your world spins into chaos around you. “I was a child back then. I didn’t know how bad things would get.” 

“No, you just didn’t have anyone else to latch onto back then, but now that you do, you’re throwing me out like yesterday’s garbage and hiding behind your bullshit excuses. I stayed loyal to you all this time. I never tried to replace you. I dumped Miyeon for you. I never pursued another woman for you. Everything I ever did was for you, and you're abandoning me the minute someone else gives you any attention?" He grabs your face and presses his forehead against yours. "I can't let you go. I won't. You're mine."

"You're hurting me, oppa." You tremble as his fingers dig into your jaw, but he doesn’t let up.  "Maybe you deserve it. You're a selfish fucking bitch. All you do is take, take, take! You made me dedicate my entire life to you and now you want to leave? Fuck that."

“That's not fair! I waited so long for you.” You cry out, reaching out to him, needing him to reassure you that he believes you. You’re not some evil person that was playing with him all this time. You don’t want to leave him just because you have someone else now. No one could ever replace him. 

But he throws you back against the bed before you can touch him and he whirls around the room like a hurricane, grabbing whatever he can get his hands on and chucking it against the wall, breaking anything and everything. “God-fucking-dammit!” 

Soon the entire room is in disarray, but it does nothing to buffer his anger. You gasp in horror as his hand collides with the mirror, his skin breaking along with the glass. Seeing crimson blood gushing down his pale skin, you jump off the bed and run to him, your fear for him overpowering your fear of him. 

But when you get close, he grabs you by the neck and slams you against the wall, the back of your head bouncing back against the concrete and the shock of the impact making your vision go spotty and your ears ring for a few seconds. 

When you come to, you feel the warmth of his hand being replaced by something cool and jagged pressing against your neck, and you stare at him in horror, hardly believing what is happening, but there is no denying the resentment and malice murking up his warm brown eyes. 

“I have no one else but you. You think I’ll just let you leave?” He asks, voice as jagged as the glass he has pressed against your throat

You close your eyes, a small part of you wishing he’d just do what he’s clearly threatening to do. You’d rather die than live in a world where your oppa would ever try to hurt you. You’ve been struggling for too long and you just want it to stop. This will be easier. You won’t have to fight anymore. 

But you feel the glass move away from you and hear a thud as Jaehyun falls to his knees in front of you, sobbing loudly. “I love you so much. Why are you doing this to me?” 

You feel a twinge of disappointment as you open your eyes and look down at the destitute man in front of you. He looks so small, so scared, resembling the little boy you had made that promise to so long ago and it makes you feel wretched. You were telling him you are going to take everything away from him again after promising him that you’d never leave--after telling him for years and years that you love him and that he’s the most important person in your life. You’re abandoning him just like his father did.

You feel the cold shard of glass on your skin again, this time in your palm as Jaehyun places it in your hand and closes your fist around it. “Kill me then. I’m already dead without you.”

You gasp, shaking your head and trying to pull your hand away. “Stop, please.”

But he tightens his hold around your fist, making your hand close tighter around the glass, the edges of it cutting into your palm. “No. I’ve shielded you from the consequences of your actions for so long. It’s time that you face what you’ve done to me.” 

"I never meant to hurt you.” You wail as your own blood seeps between your fingers. “Please, oppa, stop this. I'm scared. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“You’re killing me.” He insists, poking the skin of his neck with the sharp point of the glass, nicking a small area. “This is just quicker.” 

"I won't leave. I swear I won't leave.” You choke out desperately, panicking at the trail of blood running down his neck. “Just stop it, please!”

He finally loosens his hold on your fist and you immediately drop the glass and pull your hand up to your face, watching the shaking, bloody mess it had become in horror. 

"I love you so much, angel." You hear him say and feel his face nuzzling against your lower belly. You look down at him numbly and see him pulling your robe apart so he can lay kisses directly on your skin.

You can’t feel the warmth from his lips, not when your hand is gushing hot blood still. He doesn’t care though, continuing down your body towards your heat, seeking another warmth all-together. 

You gasp when his tongue slides between your lips and your hand shoots out to clutch at his hair, not caring that you’re messing it up with your blood. Jaehyun’s mouth on you manages to warm you up a bit, and you focus all your attention on how his tongue feels licking around your clit, trying to drown out everything else, trying to pretend that this is just a normal day. 

You almost fool yourself too--if it wasn’t for his quiet sobs that drift up to you every once in a while and the way his hair becomes matted and discolored with your blood, you could almost believe it. But when he stands up, his dick nudging between your legs, you can’t bear to look at him. 

So you turn around and face the wall, feeling more than hearing the strained sound of pain emanating from his chest and flowing into your back.  "I'll make it up to you, angel. I'll make us happy again. I promise you." He grunts, resting his forehead on your shoulder as he pushes inside you. 

“It will be just like before.” He promises lowly, his words are a hiss in your ear, making you shudder. You bite down on your lip to keep down your own cries as he fucks you against the wall like he intends to prove to you just how much he means his words. 

And you stand there and take it. You’re just so tired of fighting back. You don’t want to hurt anymore. 

__________________

You lay in his arms in the bathtub, the hot water running down your bodies and carrying the blood with it making it look like a crime scene. And maybe it was. Here lies all your will to break free and every hope that things could change. They wash away from your body like cheap paint to reveal the scars Jaehyun has permanently etched on you, reminding you that he will never go away. 

When the water stops running red with blood, he carries you out of the tub and into the bedroom where he dresses you up and bandages your wound, pressing a gentle kiss onto your palm once he’s done. With not a single evidence of the night’s violence on the both of you, he kneels down in front of you, and grabs your fidgety hands in his bigger ones, squeezing down on them and prompting you to look at him. When you do, you see the determination strong in his eyes and you wonder how he could possibly have the energy to fuel it when you were all dried up. 

You decide that he must’ve stolen it from you.  

"You will not communicate with that boy again. And it goes without saying that Soojin is out of my life too." He informs you. 

You stay quiet, staring straight at him and he sighs, kissing your hands again before getting up to lay the both of you on the bed under the blankets. Pulling you in his arms, he rubs a hand up and down your side soothingly as he whispers quietly to you and smiles his dimpled smile, just like he always does, but it doesn’t look the same to you anymore.

"I won't let anyone tear us apart… even you."

________________________

A/N: I know this is super short but like there ain’t much else to say :’) I went with the ending that made the most sense so I hope you guys like it

[jojo-reader-hell]

BRO I JUST A TOP TIER GAY IDEA. SO OUR FAVORITE HAIR STAND BABE GETS JEALOUS BECAUSE SOME CHICK KEEPS LIKE LOOKING HER AND KOICHI UP AND DOWN. SO SHES ALL "BITCH KOICHI IS MINE STEP OFF", AND CLASSMATE IS LIKE "Girl I ain't checking HIM out boo 👀"......IMAGINE THE POSSIBILITES

THIS WAS A BAD IDEA TO REQUEST THIS WHEN IM BEING A SAD PINING GAY FOR MY GIRLFRIEND.

You think she didn’t notice you staring at them? Staring with those big ol eyes?

Wrongo bucko.

You stared in class at them. Stared when they walked out of the school building, stared when she showered her handmade gifts on him. It was nauseating.

The smell of infidelity, it was something she could get a whiff of in the air like a beagle locked on the scent of butthole balloon cocaine at a TSA checkpoint. Be it if Koichi had a new love interest, or someone was interested in him. Not something someone as paranoid as her would be able to miss even if there were thousands of life’s distractions to put her off the scent. She caught you the first time when she had finally invited Koichi to a cozy little cafe setting, waltzing on by like you didn’t follow him part of the way and glance longingly at their love. She wasn’t fucking stupid. Yukako knew what a longing glance was, and she was going to wring your neck out for it.

Every single time she caught you staring you ran, face turning red as a beet as you scurried away from the scene. At one moment she got so caught up in Koichi’s hesitation that she spilled her coffee and screamed at him.

She also decided after that date and confession got tainted that she was going to slam your face into the pavement, because after she returned from showing that class rep bitch who Koichi really belonged to, she saw you sucking up to him, trying to get sympathy from her one true love. You both were in an empty classroom, Koichi patting your back as you wailed in agony at his feet, kneeling on the floor.

How dare you... how dare you make a move on him behind her back.

You were twisting your skirt in knots, probably trying to make sure he got a peep of your underwear. From where she stood she could see it was a rose print pattern. What a fucking... you were just after one thing weren’t you?!

“How could anyone love me?!” she heard you blubber like a dying walrus. “I... I’ve never even had a boy like me. I’m so stupid and ugly and worthless-...”

“Hey hey hey!”

Yukako was seething. Spewing lava and hate when she saw Koichi lunge to hold you, rubbing your back gently as you got your filthy pedestrian tears all over the blazer of his uniform.

“Don’t talk like that...” Koichi’s voice was so soft, so kind, nothing like Yukako had ever heard before.

“You’re not any of those things. I think you’re beautiful and smart, and funny, and anyone who can’t see that has got to be blind! I think you’re very sweet and lovable too.”

“R-really?”

“Yeah! Totally, I mean if you were even interested I’d even go out with you!”

Now, it didn’t help that you had essentially turned the knife counter clockwise in her chest, sealing your fate forever to be just another teen casualty. Because her mounting rage was of Friday the 13th proportions, ready to burst through the window of your room with a machete in the dead of night and hang your entrails like fairy lights around your wall. She knew when she’d do it too. She was going to patiently bide her time and wait for your little “heart to heart” to end, lurking at the edge of the shadows and planning to ambush you when you least expect it.

That was the plan originally. She was waiting for you after school when there were no witnesses, confident she would get you. But how could she have any clue... Not the faintest idea of what to do came to her mind when she heard you cry out her name.

“Yukako! Yukako Yamagishi, I love you!”

She whipped around, almost too angry to hear what you said until she found herself immobile. You’d taken her hands, nearly falling out of your penny loafers when you leaned in, and you kissed her right on the mouth.

The whole time her eyes were wide open in shock. The mounting rage she felt... the burning flames of hatred, where did it go?! Suddenly her first kiss was gone and she noticed you didn’t really know what else to do from there because all you did was give her a quick peck and you were already shaking and out of breath.

She didn’t even focus that long on her kiss being taken by another girl, too busy wondering what had changed as she watched your eyes glitter wetly with tears.

“Yukako, I’ve loved you ever since the first time I laid eyes on you. I think you’re wonderful, and I don’t care if I’m weird or wrong or whatever, because I love you so much it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.”

Yukako blinked. That’s all she could do. Didn’t really have the coherence to do much else except blink owlishly at you. All her feelings were in such a jumbled mess, like clothes in a dryer.

“I... I’m not good at sewing or cooking, I can’t give you material things like a sweater with love in the stitches or some adorable box lunch... I don’t even have money to buy you expensive presents. All I have is a heart full of all my love to give, and I’d do anything to make you happy. Will you... will you be my girlfriend?”

It was as if the fire that burned brightly in her heart had burned so hot and fast that every bad feeling, every negative thought or psychotic fantasy she had about you had suddenly gone up in smoke. Every single part of Yukako’s consciousness seemed only left to ash. You didn’t want Koichi. She heard that part as you continued to babble on helplessly despite her silence, completely unsure of how to respond as she learned the obsessive thoughts she had about one person had been the thoughts you had for her. You continued to pour out your heart, not giving her one opportunity to speak. Anyone could hear it in the way that you were talking to her that you were on the verge of breaking down into tears. Your face was contorted into embarrassment, from the kiss she could feel the heat of your cheeks radiating on her clammy skin. You were still holding her hands and she felt her whole body vibrate because of your nerves.

“Yuka-... I... Yamagishi?! I... I’m sorry...!” Now your voice was starting to crack when you realized she was immobilized. “I... I’m sorry... I shouldn’t have kissed you... I...”

Tears. Great fountains of tears and bubbles of snot appeared and melted like ice cream down your cheeks, lips and chin. Your voice only got more choppy and your legs started to give. Her silence was deafening. She didn’t even know what she felt anymore and could only just watch as you sank to her knees, still holding her hands and not making a move to wipe your face.

Without thinking, she squeezed your hands.

The shock of her touch made you squeak like a mouse being crushed under a combat boot. Yukako knelt down to the floor with you. One of her perfectly embroidered hankies peeped out of her skirt pocket, and she only let go of one hand to fish it out as she carefully wiped every tear and bubble, wordlessly telling you to blow your nose as she placed the cloth over your face.

A soft, pale hand touched your burning cheeks. Her skin was so clammy and cold, like a compress when you had a fever it helped soothe you into calming down. A hiccup sounded in your chest, making you look small and vulnerable.

You looked her in the eyes. Locked with her. She saw the passion. The love. The devotion and pure worship. Everything she wanted staring her in the face.

Still unsure, but willingly, Yukako leaned into your space. Her lips cushioned yours, begging for another first kiss.

[uuujeewriting]

Hi!! I was just wondering on the post where reader was a yandere and how the boys would react, could you do something like a part 2 to it? Like where they find out the reason why reader is like this? Sorry if its not really clear and you don’t have to do it! Anyways have a good day :D

change you [albedo, childe, kaeya, diluc, xiao]

part 2 of ‘stop it’ where fem!reader is a yandere

tw: UNHEALTHY/TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, gore, violence, cuss words, manipulative behavior, obsessive and possessive behavior, murder and angst of course

albedo x fem! reader, childe x fem! reader, kaeya x fem! reader, diluc x fem! reader, xiao x fem! reader

a/n: just a reminder that this behavior should not be tolerated or idolized as it is not healthy nor is it acceptable. sorry this took such a long time anon! i’m clearing my inbox tonight since i’m finally done with school hehe. hope this is to your liking nonnie, sorry if the bits are too short !!

i would like to clarify that if any of these scenarios/hc’s of mine are similar to other writers’ works, it is unintentional and i apologize

albedo

after the incident that happened between you and his former assistant, he hadn’t left the lab and you inside it for days

he claims to others that something in his research had come up and he would be requiring maximum isolation for the next few days

or weeks

(absolutely believable considering the timely announcement of his deceased assistant)

“albedo..” the alchemist’s eye twitched at the ring of your voice, beckoning him to you

“shouldn’t you at least entertain me–your captive?” you sickeningly chuckle as you notice his annoyance

soon this turned into complete panic

“come on,” you cling onto his arm, “pay attention to me before i leave you with no assistants at all.” 

the audacity, albedo exclaims internally

“do not tempt me to bind you to a chair until i find a solution, y/n.” he peers menacingly into you in a futile attempt to guise his fear

fear that you’d be too much for him to control

that he’ll lose you even further

you let out a ‘tsk’ as you take a seat beside the busied alchemist

“why are you even trying so hard?” a mumble escapes your mouth

perhaps he felt responsible

or maybe he does this to avenge sucrose

there might even be a slim possibility of him still loving you

but none of these answers felt genuine enough to reason

“frankly enough, i, too, question why.” 

childe

your trip home was awkward

and that’s to say the least

fuming in utter disbelief and rage was your alleged lover, intentionally averting his gaze from you

he was trying so hard not you hit you, the only thing holding him back is that he didn’t want to stoop to your level

you were rather pleased with what had happened and flaunted this

“that went well,” you smile and raised an eyebrow as you eyed childe

“you have no heart at all.” his voice devoid of any emotion aside from anger reaches your ears

at this, you dare laugh amidst the tension in the atmosphere surrounding the both of you

“now, i wouldn’t say that! i did it for you, isn’t that enough to prove i’m just as human as everyone else?” 

“you make me sick.” the harbinger spits

you aren’t too pleased with this 

moving to his side, you pinch his cheeks, “come now, love. a little warning from me won’t kill them!” you attempted to lift the mood but all is in vain as you feel a wet drop trickle down from childe’s cheek to your hand

eyes widening at this. you finally pipe down at wait for his response

he grabs your wrist and yanks it from his face

“don’t you dare come near me every again, you’re the worst person i’ve ever been manipulated by.”

kaeya

to say that kaeya was disappointed is an understatement

what’s worse than catching your lover trying to murder some nun for inconveniencing him at the dead of night?

having all this happen and being a captain of the knights of favonius

“what in celestia’s name has gotten into you, y/n?”

oh, he was mad

no ‘baby,’ ‘sweetheart–’ not even ‘snowdrop’

you idly twiddle your thumbs innocently, as if you weren’t about to be charged for attempted murder in a few hours

“i thought it would make you happy.” you admit

facepalming to the highest caliber, kaeya sighs and manages to break a sarcastic smile, finding the entire situation unbelievable

“simply outstanding, l/n.”

uh oh, he used your last name

furrowing your eyebrows, you raise one, “you’ve never called me that, sweetheart.”

kaeya glares at you, “let’s put it like this–i’m trying my absolute best not to knock you out right now.”

“i still don’t see how i did anything wrong.” you cross your arms

the knight chuckles hoarsely

“oh, you will.” he states 

and after that, he goes ahead to the acting grandmaster’s office

things are going to be pretty rough for you from now on

diluc

once he had found adelinde’s corpse in the vicinity and see how you disposed of her, he felt sick to the stomach

yet another one buried six feet under his

“do you like my gift, dearest?” placing a hand on his stiff shoulder, you look at the mess you made

“why, you-” he grumbled and grits his teeth

and the worst has yet to come

“once i have you behind bars for this, i’ll make sure you repent.” diluc states with his clenched fists

“oh, about that-” you laugh, “you can’t”

what?

“excuse me?!” the pyro wielder exclaims

“well, mister flawless reputation, i’ve already devised a plan beforehand,” you pause to slowly circle the man frozen in place

“elzer had put in records of cannibalism in adelinde’s files, since suspicion has been around for a while.” 

damn the maids for having such loud mouths

“a simple statement such as ‘it was self defense!’ and it’d be fine.”

you were truly a force to be reckoned with when aggravated

even so, if he couldn’t have you put in jail, no way was he going to let you live alongside him any further

“pack your things.” he clenches his jaw and drags you indoors

“i’ll give you five minutes to take everything with you, and if you dare defy me this time, i’ll make sure you are dealt with swiftly myself.”

xiao

out of everything you could’ve surprised him with, why did it have to be this?

this wasn’t a pleasant surprise, no

he didn't feel any love from what you’d done, only the flames of fury engulfed the adeptus

“in what plane if existence did you think what you’d done is flattering?!” the yaksha yelled once you and him got to a secluded room in wangshu inn

“xiao, i wasn’t trying to be mean, she laid her eyes on you-”

“like every other being does! gods, y/n, you’re unfathomable.” xiao rubs his temples

inching closer to the trembling man, you atemtped to massage his throbbing head

your efforts have been dismissed with a swat of xiao’s hand as he growls at you

“don’t touch me, filthy mortal.”

“you make me sound like i killed someone,” you laughed it off which angered him greatly

“you almost did!” he reasoned and you tilted your head, feigning ignorance as if this wasn’t a huge deal

“listen, if you’re not going to act accordingly and attack everyone who even lays their eyes on me, do not try to call out my name,” he turns back to you before disappearing into mists of green and black

“i won’t heed to your call.”

[little-diable]

Fictional character - Jasper Hale (smut)

Request by anon: Hi!! Could we get a Jasper Hale X Reader Fluff where the reader is watching Harry Potter and she's absolutely just gushing over Draco and Jasper senses it and gets jealous/kinda insecure and the reader promises he's the only one for her with a lot of PDA bc I am very ✨touch starved✨ (and whatever else you wanna add lol). whenever you can please! I just think it's a cool idea haha.

I turned this into a major smut, I think this wouldn’t just end in cuddles with Jasper and (y/n) haha. Hope you still like it. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Warnings: major Jasper, spanking, swearing

“Sh, Jas’”, (y/n) whined, eyes glued onto the tv screen, admiring Draco Malfoy in all his glory, barely sparing her mate a glance. Jaspers jaw was clenched, hands interlaced in his lap, thinking about all the ways he’d be able to rip the frictional character to shreds. Just as he wanted to let another snarky remark fall from his lips, (y/n) threw a pillow at him, “don’t you dare”. 

She had been in love with the prince of Slytherin ever since, gushing over Draco at every chance she got, deep down she thoroughly enjoyed the pissed off expression on Jaspers features, the way he’d touch her extra roughly that night, reminding her who she belongs to. What (y/n) didn’t know, was that he didn’t just feel jealous, with every wave of passion, that would overcome her, he’d feel more and more insecure, wondering why she wouldn’t gush over him like that.

A sigh spilled from her lips, (y/n) ripped her eyes off the tv, finding his sour expression, cumbersomely pressing pause on the remote, turning her body towards Jasper. “Jas’”, she mumbled, hand cupping his cheek, “you don’t need to be jealous of a fictional character”, a light chuckle left her. Jasper kept on staring at her, clenching and unclenching his jaw, “you never talk about me like that”.

The words were enough to make her freeze, suddenly she got pulled down by a massive wave of guilt, she had never realized how much she was hurting Jasper with her obsession, her crush on the character. “Oh Jas’”, (y/n) crawled into his lap, forehead pressed against his, “I love you and I’d always choose you. You’re the only one for me.”. His lips found hers, hands moving up her back, pressing her closer to his chest.

Jasper kissed down her neck, leaving a few dark bruises as he sucked on her skin, marking his territory, as he’d like to call it. “Who do you belong to?”, his rough voice made a smirk appear on her slightly swollen lips, “mhm”, she mumbled, as if she had to think about the question, “I’m not quite sure, maybe D-”, he flipped her around, front pressed into the mattress. A deep growl rumbled through him, jaw muscles clenched, he pushed up her sweater, exposing her behind to his dark eyes, hand meeting her skin, “who do you belong to?”. 

“You”, she sobbed, biting into the pillow, he had spanked her a few times before, but never like this, never fueled by his jealousy and hatred. “Good girl”, the more he spoke, the more (y/n) seemed to realize, that the major had switched places with Jasper, taking it upon himself to remind her, that she was his, his alone. He took it up to ten slaps, behind deep red by the time he was finished with her, wearing a proud smirk as he admired his work.

He pulled her onto her knees, pressed against his front, “you’ve been such a brat”, he spat, breath fanning over her skin. Jasper rose from the bed, pulling down his trousers and boxers, grasping her chin to keep her in place, “suck”, she opened her mouth, staring at him with dilated pupils as he began to fuck her mouth. The tip of his length would touch the back of her throat with every thrust of his, (y/n)’d gag around him, hands holding onto his hips, nails piercing into his skin.

“Such a good mouth, but such a bratty little girl, what a shame”, he pressed his teeth together, grasping her ponytail, tugging on her roots, to force her even deeper down on his shaft. Tears were blurring her vision, the corners of her mouth were burning, walls painfully clenching, desperate for some attention. “Fuck”, he relieved himself into her mouth, cum dripping down her throat, the salty flavor was heavy on her tongue as Japer pulled out of her mouth.

He didn’t give her any time to catch her breath, “who do you belong to?”, he repeated the question once again, pushing her back against the mattress, grasping her thighs, spreading them wide enough for him to slide into her heat. “You major”, (y/n) moaned, her thoughts were all over the place, tears were leaving traces down the sides of her face, moaning his name over and over again. “You’re mine, forever” he panted, ferociously pounding in and out of her, stretching her walls with every thrust, set on making her pay.

Jasper wasn’t in the mood for any games, he was chasing both of their orgasms, desperate to hear (y/n) scream his name as she was drowning in her release. “Who do you love?”, he grasped the back of her neck, eyes focused on her spine, “you major”, (y/n) cried, her orgasm was close, ready to push her over the edge any moment. Jasper knew, that she’d stay with him forever, she was his mate after all, but still, he couldn’t get over the way she had spoken about the blonde haired git.

“Are you close?”, he tugged on her ponytail once again, head rising from the pillow, “yes major”, the words were burned into her mind, she didn’t need to think about them, didn’t need to come up with any words, they’d leave her as soon as he’d ask any question. “Let go”, he ordered, skin slapping against hers as she came, trashing around underneath him, crying and moaning for him. Jasper pulled out of her and released himself on her behind, watching the sticky substance make its way down to her core, getting mixed up with her own arousal.

Jasper wordlessly wiped her clean, his eyes had turned back to their golden color, he kissed her sore skin rubbed it a few times ere he pulled her into his chest. “I’m sorry”, (y/n) yawned, head placed on top of his dead heart, eyes closed as she began to doze off, “it’s alright”, he kissed her forehead, admiring his mate.

[desiredmalfoy]

Your Sweater

Character: Pansy Parkinson

Theme: Angst; one-sided pinning

T/W: Self-hate, body image issues please be careful when reading if this triggers you. Please let me know if there is another trigger I forgot to mention.

Note: Takes place during sixth year. No Voldemort in this universe. Just for the purpose of this story, Remus is the permeant DADA professor (no curse).

This deals with a lot of heavy stuff that has to deal with self-hate. This idea came to me randomly one morning and I just wrote and came out with this.

Song Inspiration: Heather by Conan Gray

It would be no surprise to anyone that Pansy Parkinson had a crush on Draco Malloy. Unfortunately for her, her younger self had made it painfully obvious to everyone that Draco was her crush.  But as they grew older, she toned down her public affection for the boy. Opting that it was better for her public image to not be seen as the girl obsessed with Draco Malloy. Going as far as to joke with her friends that she’s glad her silly crush on Draco was over. If only they knew that her crush for him only grown and that it took all her strength to keep it hidden.

Pansy Parkinson no longer wanted to be seen as pathetic. Pathetic for chasing a boy who was never going to love you. 

I still remember the third of December, me in your sweater.

It was freezing and Pansy had stupidly forgotten her sweater in her dorm room. She forgot to grab it as she rushed out the door. She was in a rush to get to the Care of Magical Creatures class that was held outside by Hagrid. Normally she wouldn’t care about being late to such a pathetic class but she had received an owl from her parents. They had told her that they had been informed by her constant tardiness to this particular class. Her mother made it clear that no Parkinson should ever be displaying such behavior. And now she’s stuck outside running the risk of freezing to death.

She shivered as she attempted to keep herself warm with just her robe. It wasn’t bloody helping at all. 

She hadn’t noticed that Draco was watching her as she slightly bounced in place to attempt to keep warm. 

“Here”, Draco mumbled to her as he handed her his sweater. “Your shivering is distracting.”

“Thanks, Malfoy”, Pansy said with a slight eye roll. She took the warm sweater from his hands and tried to put it on as quickly as possible. “I’m surprised you want to hear anything Hagrid has to say.”

“I don’t”, Draco stated with an eye roll. 

It didn’t matter why he had given her his sweater. All that mattered to Pansy is that now his entire scent engulfed her. She longed for the moment he felt the same way she did.

Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half as pretty

Pug face

Pug face 

Pug face

She hated that nickname with a burning passion. No one dared to say it directly to her face. They were scared of what the young girl would do to them if they did. But Pansy heard as students uttered that idiotic name when she passed by. The first time she ever heard someone call her that was Potter and his little followers. These words stung her a bit but she quickly morphed her face back into a stoic expression. She acted as though she hadn’t just heard a bunch of Gryffindor's insult her about looks. Ever since that first encounter with it, it became more prominent in her head that quite a few people called her that. 

That horrid name is what had her in such a bad mood currently. It wasn’t helping that Draco was now walking towards their regular spot with you. 

You. The girl that magnified Pansy’s insecurities to a maximum. The girl who made Pansy realize every imperfection she had. The girl who had basically stolen her best friend.

The girl that was now wearing his sweater instead of Pansy. 

The girl who had soft green eyes with specks of brown, contrasted Pansy’s boring brown eyes. She hated that everyone thought everything about you was better compared to her. Because if it wasn’t the truth, Draco would be by her side and not yours.

You were the girl that had long beautiful brown hair that reached your waist. Hair that shined under the light and looked so soft to the touch. Your hair flowed with each of your delicate movements. While Pansy had the same brown hair but hers was short and plain. It was nothing special. It was cruel how the universe had gifted you both with brown hair yet it had cursed Pansy with plainness. While it gifted you the beauty that anyone would envy. 

And that envy was eating her up inside.

Kinda wish she were dead 

Pansy wished you had stayed in the shadows of (y/house). She had wished you had stayed a nobody to everyone. Just like you had previously before you waltzed into Draco’s life in sixth year and unfortunately Pansy’s life as well. But fate had cruelly paired Draco with you for DADA. Well... Professor Lupin had paired you with him. She loathes Lupin for deciding to ever pair you up with Draco. While she got stuck working with the git Goyle. 

She felt the anger boil within her as she saw Draco attempting to walk you through the wand movements of a simple defense spell. You were probably just pretending not to know so you could get close to him. 

Angered burned in her chest when she attempted to make fun of your pathetic excuse of magic use during DADA. Draco actually had the audacity to sneer at her for making fun of the pathetic girl. 

“Leave her alone Parkinson. She’s never done anything to you.”

Funny how the boy who never had a problem with making fun of anyone suddenly saw wrong in her actions. 

Those words burned in her brain as she saw your friendship with Draco begin to bloom. And there was nothing she could do to stop it. 

That friendship eventually blossomed into a relationship. 

She wished you would just disappear. Disappear from her life and most importantly Draco’s. 

Holding your hand. Put your arm 'round her shoulder, now I'm getting colder.

“Why are we waiting again”, Pansy asked annoyed that they hadn’t left yet for their trip to Hogsmeade.

“We’re not even late”, Draco scoffed at her. “You can all leave and I’ll wait here.”

“Wait for what”, Pansy asked him again. Annoyed at the fact that she had once again been left out of something. 

“Are you really that dense Parkinson”, Blaise rolled his eyes at her. “He’s waiting for the (y/n).”

“Yeah it’s not like he hasn’t been fawning over her for the past weeks”, Goyle laughed. 

“Well, my life doesn’t revolve around Malfoy’s love life. So how would I know?” Of course he’d be waiting for her.

“Hi sorry I’m late”, (y/n) said as she ran running down the hall toward the group of Slytherins. “ I couldn’t find my favorite sweater.”

“Hi everyone”, she said sickingly sweetly as she waved to the group. They boys returned her greeting with a small wave. Pansy simply rolled her eyes. 

“I would’ve let you borrow mine”, Draco said as he grabbed her hand. This caused a frown to form on Pansy’s lips. Could you be any more annoying? 

“Let’s go already. I’m getting cold just standing around.”

“You’re so impatient Parkinson,” Blaise said with an eye roll. “Next time bring a better coat.” 

Draco was no longer paying attention to her. His full attention was on you. 

But you like her better, wish I were HER.

Pansy sat down at the table waiting for her date to return with their drinks. She had stupidly hoped Draco would gain some sense and ask her to the End of the Year Ball. But she was extremely naïve to even expect that much. She knew he was still dating (y/n) but deep down she wished he would’ve asked her.

She didn’t understand why Draco failed to pay attention to her. She was everything his parents wanted for him. A pure-blood that came from a good family with money. She was his perfect match.

But even she knew that Draco’s parents adored (y/n). Her mother had written her letting her know that Narcissa did nothing more then brag and fawn over your relationship with Draco. Her mother had rudely written “Maybe if you tried to be better Draco would actually notice you. Maybe if you were prettier.”

She watched from the edge of the great hall to the center of the dance floor where you had your arms placed around Draco’s neck. He stared deeply into your eyes, intoxicated by you. 

She just wished that was her. She wished she was his whole world.

Important: I know I described brown eyes in a negative light (because it’s supposed to be self-hating). Just know that brown eyes are beautiful! I have brown eyes too. Please love your brown eyes and don’t look down on them. I know that generally, people tend to look down on their brown eyes so that’s why I wanted to write this little note at the end.

Note: Pansy is one of my favorite character and I absolutely adore her. 

[kneamet]

Jaguar! Tom discovers his wife is having an affair. He murders his rival. Reader's wrists are tied to the chair. Tom caresses her cheek. He tells her: You're mine. She says he forced her to marry and she isn't love him. Tom smiles and tells her : You will never leave bedroom. You will stay there forever as my lovely wife.

Trigger Warning: obsession, yandere, murder

Word Count: 1536

Character: Jaguar!Tom/reader

Summary: your husband finds out you're having an affair. And he is filled with pure anger.

POV Thomas

He was angry. Very angry. Anger filled him. But also, in a sense, I was a little confused. How could his beloved wife dare to cheat on him? Why? Didn't she love him?

But didn't they have the most beautiful and pure love in the world? Weren't they happily married together? In Thomas ' opinion, she had everything: beautiful and expensive clothes, a husband who idolized her, delicious food, comfortable conditions. What was wrong with her?

Thomas spent most of his free time with you. Spent time with you, even bathed you when you were sick. And in the end, what? And in the end, she just ignores his feelings and throws a knife in his back. Not literally, of course.

But why with him? Why did she cheat on him with a stranger? A man who wasn't even her type! Thomas knew about his wife's tastes. You liked the dangerous ones, the courageous ones, and most importantly, the smart ones. Who would even like a stay-at-home person? Some nerd, what does he do, what does he read about morality?

No, his doll was only interested in gentlemen like him. And she won't need anyone else. Period.

Thomas sighed, clenching his jaw tightly, squeezing his snow-white teeth. He blinked a couple of times and his gaze returned to the body. On a dead body. On the body of his wife's lover.

What a freak. These were Thomas's thoughts, and he kicked with a little lethargy, his shoes already stained with blood. The blood of the bastard who tried to steal you from him.

Thomas didn't like Ben. That was the man's name, Ben. The towering man slowly savored the name. He didn't like it. What kind of idiot would give his son that name. Although St. Benedict...

But no. Beliefs were alien to him, and he had never had much sympathy for any religion. Although thanks to them, it is easy to manipulate people, which was certainly a plus for all politicians.

Thomas quickly squatted down, spreading his legs and raising his left eyebrow. And how could this man only attract the attention of his wife?

Benedict's red hair lay in an unpleasant and sticky arrangement. Was he poor, since he couldn't even afford a normal gel? It was possible, especially if you looked at his clothes, which were old, worn jeans and a loose red sweater. More like a jumper, though. Thomas didn't know much about it.

He didn't want to believe that those disgusting hands were touching the body of his doll. He couldn't imagine this freak stroking her back.

No, he wouldn't dare touch his doll like that. Her beautiful soft hair, which was convenient to grasp during acts of love, soft and innocent eyes that always looked into the eyes of the interlocutor. This is a beautiful face, the beauty of which can not be compared with anyone from the existing person.

Still, Thomas hoped Benedict hadn't touched her in that particular way.

The man stifled a sigh.

"Thank you for not even torturing you. My tortures can be quite brutal, by the way, " Thomas lamented, getting up from his crouch with a loud gasp and adjusting the black frosted pants from the new Westwood collection. And why was he only wearing that suit? I knew I'd get it dirty. And his favorite shoes.

Thomas turned to the other men who were standing by the door, watching the scene, and said quickly::

"Get out of here, and quickly," he waved a hand in it. "I don't want the police to notice the murder of this senseless man," Thomas said in a steely voice, quickly scanning the perimeter for other people.

"Get ready, doll, because you're going to get hurt," he muttered to himself, clenching his fists tightly.

***

"I love you, doll," the man mumbled happily, holding his beloved's small hands tightly in his big and wounded ones.

The girl only smiled in response, resting her head on the strong shoulder of her beloved Thomas. He just smiled, blissfully closing his eyes.

"Me too," she murmured back.

***

POV Your

Fucking freak. A complete freak, incapable of even the slightest feelings of compassion. How could you ever meet someone like that? Why exactly are you? Why exactly do you get into all sorts of unpleasant situations with crazy psychos?

You sighed softly, feeling your heartbeat quicken again, getting faster and faster. You didn't want to think about what would happen when Thomas, your husband, came here. I didn't want to. You were sure that this betrayal would be followed by the punishment that your, you slightly grimaced, husband, so often spoke of.

You blinked a couple of times and looked at the door across from you. Freedom was so close and yet you couldn't get it... Although even that plan did not seem to be very implemented.

Your last plan, which Thomas revealed, was to have an affair with a man behind his back. With a man who would do anything for you, even write a book! With a man who will love you with a sincere and pure love, and not the way Thomas loves you.

You don't even want to say his name in your mind.

But in the end, the plan failed because Thomas installed a small sensor in your body, as painful as it was to realize, that would monitor your location.

But how did he know about it? After all, you did everything secretly, there were no inaccuracies. You checked everything! And in the end, Thomas somehow doubted your "loyalty" to him and decided to track you.

But even apart from that, you didn't stop dating your beloved Benedict. After all, he was so cute! Infidel, one of the best people there is.

***

Thomas's intense and watchful eyes were watching you. Watching you change into a pair of light pajamas that consisted of long shorts and a white nightgown.

You turned your brooding gaze on him, looking at Thomas in a little confusion. He took your gaze and cleared his throat, lowering his eyes.

"Tell me, do you love me?" he asked incredulously as he sat down on the soft, spread-out bed. You stifled a sigh and sank down beside him. It was getting harder to wake up and fall asleep next to him.

Trying to smile, you turned off the light.

"Of course I love you," unfortunately, or fortunately, these words had to be said constantly and through force.

***

You pressed your lips together. Being in this room right now was just disgusting. You never liked her, but you knew that if you said a word against Thomas ' word, you'd be in trouble.

Although it would seem that the usual room of a rich man. The white walls matched the white bed, the legs of which were dark in color. There was a large beige sofa next to it, a large-screen TV in front of it, and bookcases with books and clothes next to it. And of course, in the corner of the room, you could see a small camera. Thomas loved to dominate the situation.

Yes, everything would be fine, but only if Thomas didn't force you to have violent sex in this room and everything here wasn't bought with stolen money.

And although you used to like this beige sofa, standing next to the bed, now you just hated it fiercely, as well as the bed itself. And all why? Because you were sitting on it right now, and the ropes were tied to the bedposts, rubbing your skin very painfully.

Suddenly, the wooden door opened loudly and closed with an equally loud bang. You looked up reluctantly. Your husband, who was apparently in a complete mess, was walking straight towards you, angry with Thomas. It seems that not now will definitely not be good.

You've never found Thomas eerily handsome. Yes, he was good-looking, in your opinion: that black hair, gelled, thin lips, brilliant blue eyes that you could drown in, a great style in music, clothes, books, after all, but still something about him always seemed suspicious. He was too perfect.

Suddenly, he was right in front of you, grabbing your sore cheek with a strong hand. You stifled a painful groan. Damn, this is so unpleasant. But you will have to endure, because it is better not to show Thomas your fear and resentment, otherwise he may be bitterly angry.

"You're mine!" he roared loudly, through his teeth, like a lion about to pounce on its prey.

You sighed softly, feeling the uncomfortable feeling in your hands again, where the hard rope was rubbing painfully against your wrists, and feeling your cheek tighten again.

"I'm not yours!" No, it was just unbearable. You're not a toy and you don't belong to anyone. "I will never be yours, because you just forced me to marry you, you freak!"you snapped back, already feeling that Thomas would slap you, so you prematurely closed your eyes.

However, the blow did not come. Blinking, you saw Thomas smiling at you with a sickly smile. She's always terrified you. It meant that something was about to happen.

"You just don't understand. You just don't get it, do you, doll? But no, you understand perfectly!" he growled again, barely able to contain himself. You saw the veins in his neck bulge. All of a sudden he just calmed down. "You will never leave this room again. You will stay here forever, as my beloved wife.”

[ladynyctophilia]

Avoiding Red

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 

Mature Themes

Pairings: Vivienne Tang x MC (Rozario)

I couldn't believe it.

I wouldn't believe it. 

Shaking my head out of Vivienne's hands, I pushed her away. 

"No," I whimpered, closing my eyes because the weight of it all was just so overwhelming, and of course, at the first sign of my distress, Vivienne was at my side with a hand on my thigh. Usually, that simple touch was enough to set me ablaze with desire, but that wasn't the purpose of this touch. Instead, it comforted me, and usually, my eyes wouldn't move from her ring, but my curious eyes wandered, and I had only one thought, two words. Her hands, and despite myself, I blushed. 

The stories those hands could tell...the places they've touched...

Vivienne's hands were arguably her greatest asset. Nimble and robust, the perfect hands of a thief, but yet...they were soft...so soft and elegant enough to caress pretty little lies into your head. Suddenly, my brows furrowed in displeasure. Vivienne Tang's touch was a power unmatched, and I learned that the hard way. 

However, the hand on my thigh didn't look like Vivienne's or that of a great thief; instead, it looked vulnerable and exhausted, like it could break with the tiniest pressure. Even the paint on her nails had chipped away, but it would be the pretty pattern of bruises that adorned her knuckles that set me off. 

I let out an audible gasp, and Vivienne snapped her head to mine, following my gaze, but once she knew the destination, Vivienne caught her lower lip between her teeth and averted my gaze. 

Had Vivienne been in a fight? Were those bruises from our failed heist?

But it was clear she didn't want to discuss it, at least not in the hospital, but despite myself, I wanted to kiss those bruises. However, with my hands still chained to the bed, that wasn't going to happen, and I was reminded by the rattle of chains as I moved to get closer. 

Vivienne perked, brown eyes narrowing as they analyzed my hands, and like a deck of cards, I could see the flash of masks shuffling through Vivienne's eyes as she assumed her role as Vivienne Tang, thief and seductress of The Gilded Poppy. The Vivienne I met, the Vivienne I fell for, and the Vivienne that poisoned me. 

Right. Professionalism. 

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head, but I knew this was for the best. Mixing emotions with a job was dangerous, but the distant, cold-hearted Vivienne wasn't what I needed right now. So, I guess you could say that I wasn't exactly subtle with my displeasure as her hands worked the handcuffs. 

Limp, my right hand broke free, but Vivienne caught it with a tsk, stroking my bruised wrist.

"This is why I use silk," she smirked, trying to sweeten the sour on my face. 

I didn't budge, and when I didn't respond, her mask cracked, and she frowned in a way that I had never seen. 

Fuck. 

Her frown hurt worse than a bullet, and with a pang of regret, my mouth matched hers. 

"You're unusually quiet," Vivienne muttered, trying to catch my gaze, but I refused to look at her, terrified by what expression I may see next. "I know you've been through a lot, my love, but we need to leave," she leaned closer, planting a soft kiss of reassurance on my lips. "Okay?" She breathed offbeat. 

Unfortunately, that kiss didn't break the spell, and I pulled my hand out of Vivienne's. 

Like our relationship, this life was a gamble. What if Thomas was right? What if I reached the point of no return? 

My breathing quickened as my sins consumed me. 

Would I have to change my name like the rest of The Poppy??? Would my life never be "normal" again?? Fuuuuuuck. 

"Rozario," Vivienne snapped, concerned but controlled as she yanked my head to her bosom. "I saw your eyes..now is not the time to leave."

I responded in a muffle. My mouth didn't work, and until now, I hadn't even realized I'd been crying. 

"I'm so f-fucking sorry," I choked, gripping her shirt.

"Don't you dare apologize," she sighed into my hair, squeezing tighter. 

I knew that Vivienne loved me, I would never doubt that, and in the past, we've had our ups and downs, but in the end, Vivienne has always reassured me that she's changed...changing, for The Poppy and me and yes, I'm proud of her progress, but how much longer of this life could I survive? Vivienne poisoned me more than once, and minutes ago, the possibility of being locked away in prison was VERY fucking real. 

Alas, these buried doubts just made me cry harder, and all Vivienne could do was hold me, oblivious to the storm that brewed in my head. 

I almost died. 

My eyes widened. 

I ALMOST DIED. 

My breath quickened as I recalled how many times my life was at risk during this "adventure of a lifetime."

Paris, my first heist, we were held at gunpoint by Du Bellay.

Paris, after my first heist, I was poisoned and abandoned. 

Inez, Spain. She was so obsessed with me, and if it wasn't for Vivienne's intervention, Inez would have kidnapped ME, and the Poppy would have had no way of tracking me. Ugh.

That particular memory made my blood boil, but then my anger was replaced by an overwhelming wave of sadness. 

Inez was dead. Damn my big fucking heart.

I inhaled louder than I had meant, but Vivienne was there, kissing the top of my head in response as I worked through the dumpster fire shit show that was in my head.

Then there was Nadia….ugh….fucking Nadia. The murder bottom. She was going to kill me...I lowkey think she STILL might kill me. In truth, despite the circumstances, I was lucky, and it was really only a matter of time before I actually got shot, but I didn't just get shot. In the same fucking night, I was shot, poisoned, captured, AND I fell off a helicopter. How am I not dead??? This has to be a record or something. 

"Darling?" Vivienne finally called, a light in the dark. 

I looked up, blurry-eyed and numb to just...everything. 

She tsked, stroking away my tears as they fell.

I used to feel the world in those eyes. Why didn't I now? 

"I know you're hurting," she hesitated, picking her words carefully as if I was a spooked fawn, "...and you have questions," she paused, looking away with a fond smile as if the memory she was recalling was there for all to see. "With that curious mind of yours, you /always/ have questions." She chuckled, despite herself, looking back at me with an exhausted pair of eyes that probably haven't seen a wink of shut-in DAYS. 

I didn't respond, looking away, noticing that she already had my other hand out of the handcuff. 

"My love," she beckoned to me again, but this time she grabbed my chin and forced my eyes to hers. "You know that I love you...right?" 

The question floated over my head. This was the first time I had taken a moment to look at Vivienne. Like, ACTUALLY look at her, and like always, she was beautiful. A natural beauty that didn't need makeup, but right now, with oversized scrubs and a messy bun, I barely recognized Vivienne. I blinked, taken aback by this drastic appearance change. 

I don't know what was freaking me out more, the fact that I couldn't find the color red on her person or that she was wearing crocs. 

CROCS!!!

Knowing Vivienne, she must have been DYING in this outfit. However, as my eyes were finally taken prisoner by hers, I was taken aback by the sudden amount of grief stained on her porcelain features. The mask was off. Vivienne had been crying, and like me, she was in so much pain. 

"Talk to me," she finally spoke, firmer than before. "Talk to me," she repeated in a much more demanding tone as she pulled my face closer to hers. "I need to hear your voice, I need to…" she choked, biting her lip, "I need…"

My gaze hardened. 

"Rozario…" She was trying not to cry, but it wasn't working. "Losing you and seeing you like this... it's like a part of me died." A sob escaped her. "I...I can't…." 

"Vivienne," I finally whispered, reaching for her. 

"Yes?" Vivienne answered all too eagerly, lifting my palm to her cheek, kissing it.

My heart did a few somersaults, and now we were both crying. Again. 

Damn you, Vivienne. 

"I know you love me," I said, eyes not leaving hers. She smiled, but I didn't. "I never doubted...."And without blinking, I took Vivienne's serpent ring and stabbed her. 

"Rozario…" Vivienne squeaked, betrayed, and at first, she didn't move.  

"Like I said, I'm sorry," I repeated, twisting the needle further into her chest. She gasped, and I let go, leaning back as I watched the mighty collapse of Vivienne Tang. 

A few heartbeats went by, and with a hand over her chest, she parted her lips to speak, but even if she had more to say, she couldn't, and with a last, desperate cry of pain, Vivienne reached for me as sections of her body lost their function. In rage? For help? I will never know, but finally Vivienne slumped over my lap, knocked out cold by her own tool. Usually, once injected with the ring, you'd be unconscious in a heartbeat, but with Vivienne's immunity, it took a little longer, but like any other human, she fell.

"It's my turn to run away," I whispered, not moving, and for a second...or maybe minutes, I just stared at Vivienne's lifeless body. I couldn't see her face, but her hair had fallen out of the bun, and despite the violence, it laid elegantly, untouched and unbothered, like a starless night. 

Did I really just stab her?

I thought I would freak out more, but in truth, I just couldn't feel a damn thing, and at first glance, Vivienne looked like a murdered victim, and with a jolt of concern, I desperately felt for a pulse. 

(lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub…)

I sighed out my relief. 

She was alive. Good. 

But without giving myself a second to feel, I rolled her body away and stood, testing my strength. "Fuck!" I groaned, clutching my side. The bullet wound was stitched up, but the pain was still very real, but alas, there was no time to mull over it. Surely the police would be here for me any second. I needed to get out of here, NOW. With a quieter groan, I searched Vivienne for anything that might help me. Knowing Vivienne, she had to have a wallet, money, or something. "Yes!" I exclaimed as I pulled out a key card. "Hello..." I squinted at the french words, "...Alana Lamar," my eyes lingered on Vivienne's photo, likely taken by Zoe. Before my guilt could get the better of me, I reassured myself that this wasn't personal. This was just for survival. 

The Poppy was a phase, Vivienne was…

I glanced at Vivienne's corpse. 

She was my greatest love, but this life wasn't for me. 

(Ten minutes later.) 

Compared to the movies I've seen, getting out of the hospital was quite easier than I had expected. I just simply switched my hospital gown for Vivienne's nurse scrubs and used her key card to get out.

Now, where was Thomas? 

I pulled out the note he left for me, rereading the words. 

Damn, Thomas, you need to work on your penmanship. 

"By the hardware store…" I muttered, searching with squinted eyes as my eyes adjusted to the light. Vivienne would likely be awake by now. I needed to get out of the area. 

"Rozario!" A familiar voice called as an Aston Martin, black and elegant, drove up next to me.

That's a nice car….FUCK!! LEON!!!

I was in no condition to run, but before I took action, Thomas's head poked out. "Rozario," he repeated, unlocking the doors, "get in." 

I nodded, taking a deep breath as I practically threw myself into the passenger seat. "It's Alana, actually. Alana Lamar," I said, holding up the key card with the best smile I could manage. 

"Ah," he sighed, nodding. "Yes, it's probably wise not to use your real name until the investigation is closed. Smart." 

"Yes, now drive," I said, much more demanding than I'd meant. "Please," I added, much softer in apology as I clicked on my seatbelt.  

"Yes, ma'am," Thomas said, sounding more amused than anything as he put the car into drive. I could feel the weight of his gaze, but I didn't look back. My mind was elsewhere. "Nice ring," he commented, but other than a twitch to my eye, I still didn't acknowledge him. He finally got the idea. Paranoid, heartbroken, and in shock...I just wasn't in the right mental space, so I gazed out the window instead, watching the hospital fade away.

Goodbye, Vivienne Tang...

To be continued...

[kbstories]

Entangled

en·tan·gled (adj.) Twisted together; interconnected.

Eustass Kidd joins the Flying Six. The Kidd Pirates go to war.

(Or: Welcome to the worst timeline.)

Tags: Canon Divergence, Blood and Violence, References to Brainwashing, Rescue Missions, Hurt/Comfort (It’s a solid 80% hurt you have been warned)

Set in Wano, Act Three. Spoiler warning for all of Wano. This is an AU where Kidd is imprisoned on Onigashima and Killer doesn’t eat SMILE.

Content warning for some torture, some blood and references to brainwashing.

***

They’re dead, they said.

Wiping blood from his mouth, Kidd had laughed. “My crew? Dying to cock-faced cunts like you? Never.”

They fought to get to you and they died, they said as cruel hands dug into Kidd’s hair and put him under, over and over.

“They didn’t”, Kidd bit back. “They’re alive”, words fractured by the water in his throat, his lungs. Again – they will come – and again – they’re fine – and again – they’ll come for me. By then he couldn’t catch enough breath to speak but it was there, conviction burning bright in his chest.

They said, he’s dead, and even though his eyes could barely see and his ears were ringing, Kidd recognized blue and white and Killer. Kidd’s veins ached with whatever they pumped into him, his brain struggling to tell truth from lie, dream from reality.

The mask is there, real. The seams Kidd worked a full day and night on to get them just right, cracked apart and caked with blood where Killer’s temple would be–

They’re dead, they say and Eustass Kidd’s world shatters apart.

***

The Victoria Punk strains against the raging of the sea, waves mighty as mountains crashing against her skull and bursting into a thousand pieces. Killer doesn’t turn his head away from the spray, lets the ocean sting every inch of exposed skin.

Under his mask, his eyes stare straight into Onigashima’s soulless gaze.

“Hey, you there! Spikey’s friend!”

Strawhat’s voice rings true through the winds and the rain. Killer keeps his arms crossed and nods, the gesture over-articulated to carry despite the storm. “Stick to the plan, Strawhat! We’ll catch up to you on the other side!”

A smile and a thumbs-up from Strawhat to his right, a sardonic laugh from Law to his left. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for an optimist, Massacre Soldier.”

All Killer gives him is the bird. Kidd would’ve laughed at that, he thinks.

Wire is at the helm, hands steadfast and solid. “Keep course”, Killer tells him as he hops down on deck. “There’s a spot at the bottom of the bay. The Punk should be safe there.” Heat flanks him as the rest of the crew gathers, every face around him retaining that grim sort of tenacity that carried them through the past month.

There’s exhaustion there too, so keen Killer can sense it: None of them can quite shake that phantom presence permeating the Punk, the constellation of their very being-together fundamentally incomplete.

To sail into battle without Kidd is… wrong, inconceivable, almost. Killer has endured all magnitudes of that feeling while they scoured every corner of Wano Country in search for that element that will make them whole again, that unique gravitational pull that makes their individual parts click into each other like carefully-crafted machinery.

(It doesn’t get easier, being without him. Missing him. Killer can’t tell why he ever expected it to.)

“Stay low”, Killer reminds his crewmates, his voice as steady as it’s been since this nightmare started. “Find the Flying Six, that’s our priority. We have to get to Kidd before the raid starts, or things will get messy.”

For years, Killer’s mask has been a comfort; the immediate “Aye, Captain” he gets in return makes him wince where the crew can’t see it. It’s a necessity, for them to remain in the dark about his weakness – about the visceral fear that shot through Killer when he realized Kidd is gone and all eyes fell on him to make the next step.

(This has been a possibility since the very beginning yet Killer never expected to live long enough for it to become reality. Always together, even in death, that was the plan.)

*

From the moment their boots touch land, all Killer can think of is Kidd. Find Kidd, save Kidd, a near-obsessive mantra playing in his head on an endless loop as they leave the Punk behind.

For weeks he lived as Kamazo the Manslayer, every scrap of intel extracted in crimson splatters under moonlit skies. Alliances made and information combined for one purpose alone, and it’s worth it to pass by hordes of drunks and people-soon-to-be-drunks unnoticed. Every step the Kidd Pirates make on Onigashima is accounted for, their approach methodical sans the perpetual chaos Kidd’s mere existence brings.

Killer hates how easy it is, to become something other than themselves. There is no time to waste on regret, not here. They have to keep going.

Finally: There is the fortress, there are the Flying Six – and among them, a flash of red Killer would recognize anywhere, anytime. His vision narrows down to the shape of Kidd perched on the parapet, dressed black-on-black like the rest of them, and a murmur goes through the crew behind him. By some animal instinct, Kidd’s head turns and he stares right at them, too.

And for the first time in a month Killer inhales and feels his lungs unfold, his chest swell with a full breath. Kidd is there. He’s right there, and Killer’s too far away to pick up any details but Kidd is alive and now he knows they’re here, too. All that’s left is to get him out of here and regroup and–

“Soldier, watch out!”

–the shout is almost drowned out by Killer’s instincts. He tears his scythes up in the last second to deflect the little bits of something raining down on them. Shrapnel, the ground littered with it in moments.

What the…?

The thunderclap of Conqueror’s Haki precedes a furious roar he has heard a hundred times, a hundred battles over. Killer catches sight of Kidd, and how scrap gathers and swirls around him, the eye of a silver-tinged hurricane about to hit, and his mind stalls as that murderous glare locks on him.

Then Kidd is upon them.

Metal screeches against metal, the air turning sharp and heavy with Kidd’s will as his fists clash against Killer’s scythes. There’s not a shred of hesitance to the strike: A fraction of a second is all Killer gets to seek out Kidd’s eyes, glowing with the sparks exploding in all directions between them, and Killer’s gut drops at the cold fury he finds there.

That, and bloodlust so strong he can taste it. Oh fuck.

The force of the attack has Killer’s heels skidding back a few feet – motherfucker, Kidd isn’t holding anything back, is he? – before Kidd’s gaze flicks to the side and he scoffs, a pissed-off tch.

A breath, drawing deep. Flames engulf them both, then, the fire throwing up a wall that gives Killer some room to breathe.

“Heat”, he gasps, and they motion for him to move. Wire isn’t far behind, grabbing Killer by the elbow and dragging him away from the inferno swallowing the person they came to save. “You okay? Killer. Did he–?”

Killer can barely look elsewhere. “No. I’m fine, Wire, let me– What the hell did they do to him?” The last part is little more than a snarl, something venomous and ugly within him stirring. Just a glimpse of it sends Killer’s heart on a warpath, beating hard enough to throb even in his fingertips.

Wire’s expression is drawn, lips a tense line. “I don’t know but this is bad. There’s too much metal on all of us.” Which is by design, to help Kidd get around in a fight and– Fuck. Fuck.

A handful of seconds, that’s all Heat can buy them. Fire can’t hold Kidd, not for long, the man himself forged in heat and pressure just as the metal he commands. Killer grits his teeth to see Kidd emerge from plumes of smoke wiping soot off that same look on his face, lethal and so cold, and he pulls both Heat and Wire behind himself.

“Leave him to me. Take the others and–”

Wire’s hand goes bruise-tight on Killer’s arm. Heat hisses, “Killer–”

“Listen to me. Kaido’s forces will follow him here any minute. Keep them off our backs. Buy us time. Whatever this is, Kidd will fight it. I just have to make him listen.”

Two little words stick to Killer’s tongue, almost making it out of his mouth. Captain’s orders. He doesn’t have to say them, though, the tense sigh Wire exhales an answer in and of itself.

“Fine, just– Stay sharp. Let’s go, Heat.”

“Yeah”, Heat says with a final glance Kidd’s way, and they’re gone. Disappearing from Killer’s limited field of vision, and Killer trusts they will keep the crew safe. It’s not like he can turn and check, not with Kidd stalking ever-closer.

Coming for him, not the crew. Just him. A joyless smile stretches Killer’s lips wide. Good.

“Care to explain what game you’re playing, Kidd? We’re here to take you home.”

Kidd snaps at him, “Shut the fuck up”, teeth big and white against the backdrop of black leather Kidd is wearing. His face is bare for the first time in years, his hair slicked back like he couldn’t give any less of a damn how it looks. Killer’s gaze falls on the symbol of the Beast Pirates on the thick belts crossing over his chest and his heart lurches, skips out of rhythm–

“I don’t care who you are. I’ll fucking kill you for wearing that mask.”

Killer stares.

“Who I…? The mask is mine. It’s mine, Kidd, you made it for me. I’m–”

Oh shit, the earth itself shakes from the pulse of magnetism Kidd draws in every last bit of metal with, Killer’s arms threatening to snap out of their sockets as his scythes are pulled in, too. “Don’t you dare”, the words are a growl more than anything. “Don’t you fucking dare say his name”, and the pressure drops to be replaced by brute physical force as Kidd lunges.

Killer doesn’t stand a chance against Kidd, he knows that. There’s his Devil Fruit, his natural strength, his skill with damn-near every weapon he’s collected – ever since he unlocked the Haki to match, Kidd has shrugged off any and all limits imposed on him. Killer knows what Kidd can do, knows his body better than his own, some days, knows every emotion that flashes in that rust-red gaze of his.

And, with Kidd hellbent on ripping him apart, Killer knows he’s but one misstep away from a very violent death.

Countless times they’ve fought yet this is an entirely different beast: The only advantage Killer has is speed, and even that is rendered meaningless in the face of Kidd’s powers turning the metal on his body into anchors, his wrists and neck aching trying to withstand that particular gravity. Time and time again they collide, a spray of sparks and panted breath as Killer stares into the hate-filled eyes of the man he loves and doesn’t back down.

As he tells him, “It’s me, Killer, it’s me, I came back for you”, and Kidd snarls, beyond words.

Something has to give and for a moment there, Killer thinks it might not be him. Kidd is panting, growing pale and covered in sweat. This close, Killer can see the fresh wounds left to scar, dotting his chest with sickening precision, and the mottled bruises blooming on his neck, right over his pulse point.

Whatever they put him through, it’s recent enough for Kidd to look like he’s on the verge of collapse once he’s burned through his rage, and Killer despises himself for drawing hope from that.

Then Kidd stumbles, Killer hesitates – and Kidd nails him in the side, a punch too swift for Killer to block, and the taste of copper spills on Killer’s tongue as he feels his ribs give before he twists. The second fist is inches from connecting when Killer slips his hand out of the metal guard slowing him down and elbows Kidd in the face, stomach turning at the immediate gush of blood that clearly spells broken nose.

They fall apart, Killer holding the scratched-and-bruised mess of his midriff and Kidd groaning with his face tucked into his elbow. Struggling to breathe through the pain, Killer fumbles for his second scythe, throwing it to the side where it lands with a dull thud, unseen. Kidd is staring at him, mouth open and painted crimson.

Then Killer’s fingers hook into the back of his mask and he pulls it off, the world suddenly too-bright, too-loud, overwhelming – it all pales against the fear choking him, smothering any ounce of reason Killer clung to without Kidd there to guide him.

“Kidd, it’s me”, he says, the words small between them, on the brink of vanishing altogether. Well and truly lost, for the first time since they met. “Your partner. Please. I don’t know what to do. Please come back to me.”

And Kidd– He staggers towards him, like he can’t help it. “You’re dead”, he whispers, helplessly hoarse. “You died. You’re dead, Kil.”

Killer’s eyes sting as tears well up; he bites the inside of his cheek until it bleeds. Thinks, oh, and his mind puts together the puzzle pieces even if all he feels is his heart break.

“I’m right here. Right here, Kidd.”

Step by step Kidd’s fists lose their substance, metal falling to the ground in chunks and pieces and loose gears. Kidd asks, “…Killer?”, and it sounds so painfully uncertain, so threadbare and fragile that Killer throws caution to the wind.

Kidd’s knees give the moment Killer reaches for him. He doesn’t manage to catch the fall but it doesn’t matter, the feeling of Kidd’s arm sliding around his neck like breaking the water’s surface, like coming home at long last. His stump is left bare, bandaged and sore-looking, lacking the mechanics that have become Kidd as much any other part of him. Killer holds that shoulder before he does anything else, the tension there beyond unbearable to watch.

“Killer”, Kidd rasps, and Killer kneels so he doesn’t have to strain himself so much. “K-Kil, fuck, I didn’t– I thought–”

Half-realized words turning to heaving gasps, and Killer wraps himself around him as his shirt grows wet where Kidd’s head is tucked against his neck, equal parts blood and tears with how fucked up Kidd’s nose is. Murmurs against his hair, “It’s okay”, rubs a hand up and down the groove of his spine.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m here. We’re all here, Kidd. Not leaving you behind, ever, got it?”

It’s there, with Kidd in his arms, that Killer becomes aware of their surroundings once more: There’s distant cannon fire, and battlecries cut short; the cracking of rifles and ringing of blades being drawn and crossed; bit by bit, the world reshapes itself into the beginnings of a war around them. The first thing Killer sees is a loose circle of backs turned towards them. Dead ahead, the signature woosh of Heat’s breath-turned-fire illuminates the silhouette of each and every member of their crew fighting tooth and nail to uphold the perimeter.

Closest to them, Wire’s trident blurs with motion as he smashes a volley of arrows out of the air, aimed directly at Kidd’s vulnerable back. A glance over his shoulder, and Wire’s eyes widen as they meet Killer’s.

Properly catching his gaze, for the very first time. Killer nods at him, mouths, we gotta get outta here. Wire reads his lips and smiles, unwavering.

Kidd is stirring as well, eyes red-rimmed and weirdly naked without the heavy black around them. He wipes at the blood that hasn’t quite stopped dripping down his chin before he looks up. Stares at Killer like he can’t quite believe he’s there, and then:

“Shit. Fuck, Killer, your mask”, Kidd mumbles urgently, an exhausted motion of his hand pulling closer the scattered remnants of their fight. “Where’s– Ah.”

And something in Killer breaks a little more at the gentleness with which Kidd handles his mask, his fingers unsteady as they wipe dirt and blood off the blue-white stripes before offering it to Killer, those red eyes tender with unspoken emotion.

Kidd doesn’t do apologies, mostly because there aren’t many actions he deems truly reprehensible, but... If apologies were Kidd’s thing this would be it.

Killer exhales a soft breath and presses a kiss to the line between Kidd’s shaved brows. “C’mon”, he says, and he hides his face before hoisting Kidd up to his feet, a breath shuddering out of him as his ribs shift in his chest. Kidd’s hand brushes over the furrows he left on Killer’s skin, frown deepening yet he doesn’t speak.

Piece by piece, they put themselves back together until they’re Eustass ‘Captain’ Kidd and Massacre Soldier Killer once more. There is hell to pay, a war to win and an Emperor to kill – when Kidd steps forward to rejoin their crew, he doesn’t waver and neither does Killer, following close behind.

[em0uvante]

Amaranthine

Chapter three

TRIGGER WARNING:

- MENTIONS OF DEATH

- VIOLENCE

I love you all, enjoy.

"remember the sorting hat ceremony bubba?" i ask draco, interrupting his boring lecture. he grunts, ending his sentence.

"asshole, but yeah, i do. what about it?" he mutters the beginning, gradually getting louder.

"i don't know, i just want to go back. i miss it." i huff, laying my head on draco's lap.

"but we still go to this school? what do you mean?" he pets my hair gently, making sure not to pull on it.

"i don't know. i guess i want to go back in time, before everything went in the gutter." my eyes well up with tears which i pat away with my palms.

draco lifts me off his lap into his arms, holding me tightly. i quickly wipe my tears on his clothed shoulder. i sit back up. draco takes my chin in between his index finger and thumb, staring into my eyes. his soft lips meet my cheek, cooling my nerves. i let out a prolonged sigh, eyes closing shut.

"it's over now annie, you're safe know. i'll never leave your side. promise." draco holds out his pinky finger, i take it in mine. our foreheads meet, resting against each other.

"sorry i got your shirt all wet." i sniffle waiting for draco to reply.

"i wasn't gonna say anything because you're sad, but yeah, pretty gross." we share a low chuckle, draco pokes at my side. i squirm myself off his lap, falling to the floor. draco only points his finger and laughs.

"you are so mean! ugh, why do i have to live with you?" i shout from the floor, draco holding out his hand to pick me up.

"well, i have to go to potions, and you need to get yourself to herbology. walking with me or not annie?" he slides his robes on, waiting for an answer.

"yeah, i'll walk with you. but only because you have no other friends." i stick my tongue out at him, face contorting in a confused manner.

"says you! i'm your only friend you prune," he remarks stubbornly. "and for your information, i have blaise, and- um..." draco trails off while i collect my belongings for class. i shake my head at him, chuckling to myself. i hear a subtle knock on the door. my eye rests against the peephole.

"hey mister popular, astoria greena- i mean uh astoria greengrass. she's behind the door, waiting for you."

"oh! i didn't know she was stopping by." he scrambles to ruffle out his hair. my eyes roll to the back of my head out of disgust. astoria greenass has draco wrapped around her finger.

the pair met when they were put together for a potions project last year. he was amazed by her beauty, and fell head over heels in love with her. this is what i assume, of course. they have been inseparable since. i'm not sure why, but i really really hate astoria.

"your hair looks fine bubba." i say, peeking my head out of the bathroom where i was hiding from the devil herself.

"don't call me bubba! astoria is here!" he whisper-shouts, opening the door for astoria. draco's pale complexion lights up when he sees astoria's. i feel a wave of heat flows down my spine. her presence ignites a strong fire inside of me.

astoria is wearing her robe, tie, and her long brown locks are tied with a emerald colored ribbon. i don't know why draco fancies astoria to such extent. although, her lack of personality and gorgeous genes are probably enough for him.

"pepperpup! i missed you so much!" draco engulfs her into a hug, astoria wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

"aw i missed you as well babe." she replies, kissing his cheek softly. i notice draco's face turn beet red when her lips touch his upper jaw bone.

"babe? i didn't know you guys were snogging! good thing draco got headgear when he did." i wittily interrupt. their heads whip around towards the couch, huffing at my comment.

"we're no-"

"indeed we are. we have been for a month today." she grins, pulling draco into her arms for the second time today. draco's face goes blank, his eyes glued to my hands. which were fiddling with the snake ring on my left middle finger.

"oh really? that's so cool! i'm thrilled for you both," i manage to mutter out, counting down from fifty in my head to control my growing rage. "anyway, i have to go to class. have a good day you two. i'll see you tomorrow for the quidditch game." i quickly gather my bag and sprint out the door, slamming it behind me.

(ONE HOUR AND FORTY-SEVEN MINUTES LATER)

"are you feeling alright darling? you look, sickly." my friend aera asks. her hand caresses mine in a soothing manner, snapping me back into reality.

"yeah! i'm good. wanna grab something to eat? i'm starving." aera's fingers stop and her face holds an unconvinced look. aera is far too intelligent to believe my lies.

"do you think i'm a bloody imbecile? i insist you tell me what dilemma you are facing this instance." she states, all whilst lacing her shoes to go to dinner.

"no i don't, but there is nothing wrong with me aera. really." she raises her eyebrow quizzically. her alluring eyes stare deeply into my soul, searching for the truth. aera's head slowly turns as the rest of her body goes still.

"fine! draco and astoria are dating but i hate her stupid brat face! ugh, i hate her so much!" i scream, allowing anyone in the common room to hear.

"divulge me in your problems. toni, why do you loathe her to such extent?"

"i literally have no idea. maybe because draco is obsessed with her, and is a dickhead to me when she is around. or because draco calls her pepperpup, god that's so stupid. pepperpup, like she's a fucking dog. i'm sorry, excuse my language, they just make me so angry!" my feelings pour out into the world while i scream my lungs out. aera just stays silent and nods her head, waiting for me to finish.

"thank you for sharing with me. let's head to dinner." she takes my hand in hers and leads me to the great hall, which is jam-packed full of ravenous students.

"can we eat in your dorm? i don't want to sit by him tonight." i ask, hiding my face in the beanie i'm wearing.

"i'm afraid not hun. besides, i have a date tonight. goodbye!" with that, aera is gone like the wind. just like that i'm standing by myself in the middle of the great hall.

i try my best to be discreet while getting my dinner plate. ham, carrots, a bun and some mash are what i grab to eat. after gathering my food, i eat it as fast as possible making sure not to draw attention to myself. i hear blaise call my name, meaning draco was near. i turn my head to the person next to me, pretending to be in a conversation.

as i'm trying to 'converse' with the girl next to me, i feel a harsh tap on my shoulder. i look up to find blaise zabini roughly tapping me, signaling for me to sit with them. them being blaise, pansy, astoria, and draco.

"nettie! come on and sit with us mate! draco won't stop asking for you." he mumbles the last part so only i could hear. i shrug, pick up my plate and walk over to the group. draco's glum expression lights up, his eyes filling with joy.

"nice to see you again antoinette! we were just chatting about the quidditch game tomorrow. ravenclaw versus slytherin! should be a good one." astoria states, her bright smile never dropping. i ball my fist when i hear my full name come out of her mouth.

"don't ever call me antoniette you dumb bitch!" i shout, standing up from my seat. my hand nearly collides with her face, but someone's hand stops it. draco's eyes bore into mine, telling me to calm down. i let my hand fall back to my side, the same angry expression plasters my face.

"i-i'm sorry, i didn't know! i swear!" astoria cries, pansy holding her tightly. the disappointed face on pansy grows.

"if you didn't know, maybe you could have fucking asked! did you not notice the fact that nobody around calls me fucking antoinette!?! jesus christ astoria, are you that fucking stupid!?!" i scream, tears spilling from astoria's eyes. i feel like i could punch a hole into the earth with my one fist.

"oh my god toni, take a rest. you sound fucking crazy." blaise says calmly, only fueling my fire more. i hate that word, hate it. draco knows that. i tilt my head to the side, thinking of all the ways i could kill everyone at this table. draco clears his throat, finally stepping in.

"annie, let's go to our room. i'm growing very sleepy. come on darling." he takes my hand in his, but i pull back from him.

"are you fucking joking? i will tie your brain stem to your shoe laces, you stupid fucking idiot. god, why are you friends with such brain dead morons? call me crazy again zabini, do it. i dare you. come on, little bitch, do it! i'll kill yo-" draco looks at me again, signaling that he needs me to leave with him.

"what, you can't take being called crazy? astoria didn't know any better! what, are you mental?"

"blaise, enough! i can't believe how fucking childish you're being right now. fucking prick." draco shouts at him, blaise flinching at his harsh words. i'm already halfway across the great hall, taking my plate with me. draco runs to catch up with me, not looking behind himself once.

(12 MINUTES LATER)

"annie, you okay in there? i'm sorry about what blaise said. it was out of hand." draco knocks on the door gently. three knocks. just like mum. i hate when he does that.

i'm crying when draco started knocking on the bathroom door. i quickly wipe my eyes and let myself out. i sit down on the satin green couch.

"i'm completely fine draco. it was my fault. i'm a horrible monster, just like mother said." i state calmly, grabbing my wand polish. draco shakes his head and sits down next to me.

"don't be like that annie. don't try to hide your feelings from me." he takes the wand polish from my hand. i give my attention to him, which i know is what he wanted.

"she didn't deserve that. i know she didn't mean any harm. she's a real sweetheart. i'm just an asshole." i admit, twirling a piece of hair between my fingers.

"you're not an asshole, annie. you can't control it. i know that, they don't."

"that's beside the point. i'm a bad person. that's the truth and it always fucking will be. astoria did nothing wrong." i get up, pacing around the room.

"she triggered you, whether she meant it or not." draco grumbles, pulling his hair loosely.

"it's fine. it's over now. i'm going back to my room." i get up and head out.

"annie, don't go. we need to talk." he mumbles, standing up from his spot on the couch.

"draco there's nothing to talk about. you and astoria are dating, you didn't tell me, and your friends are douches. goodnight." and with that, i'm out of the door, heading to my own room.

(14 MINUTES LATER)

after taking off my school clothes i run a bath for myself. i grab the bath salts i bought from hogsmeade and sprinkle some in. i let the lavender scented salts absorb me completely, taking in the fragrance.

after the water is warm enough, i gently slide into the tub. the water relaxing my tense muscles. a long sigh leaves my mouth as i lather soap onto my body. once i rinse it off, i submerge myself under the water, making my body feel still and peaceful.

peace. something i never get to feel. water is peaceful. so calm and tranquil. maybe if i drown myself, the water will let me be peaceful. that's a good idea. death will make me peaceful. i want it so fucking badly. but i will never will.