#she’s thriving! and we love that for her!
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maythevoidnotscreamback · 2 days ago
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For this Alex Hirsch to try to slap human morals or emotions onto what is essentially nature itself personified is weird to me, ngl.
Like, the Unicorn didn't ask to be, essentially, drugged and grabbed from her 'bed' by Mommy Fortuna when they happened upon her and while Schmendrick did help release her, he didn't have to follow after her. He chose to do that of his own volition for his own reasons under the guise of 'leading the way'. Something we all found out was a lie, unintentional or not, when Molly reveals they've apparently been going the wrong way the whole time. As it is, the Unicorn, when he got himself in trouble, did not have to rescue him from his plight; not even as repayment for releasing her.
Why would I say that?
Because 1) she's not human and thus not beholden to our laws or rules or sensibilities of reciprocation or what-ever-else and 2) she is, as said previously, nature personified. You can make offerings, you can make sacrifices, you can beg and pray and plead but nature will not care for what humans want it to do or why. The harvests could still fail, the animals could still get sick, the ships might still not return or the fish not plentiful, the seasonal dangers could still kill you. It doesn't matter. It will do as it will. Because while we humans need nature in any and all its forms to thrive, nature doesn't need us at all. It'll still be here long after we might all be gone.
As it is, did Schmendrick even give her thanks for that? It's been a while since I last saw it, mind, but I think I remember him blustering about how 'he had it handled' even though he clearly didn't. And while, yes, Molly was emotional at finally getting to see a Unicorn, the Unicorn herself is confused but willing to offer what comfort she can to someone in distress. Molly even goes so far as to 'forgive her' when she most likely doesn't care for or even need forgiveness because, in all reality, what the Unicorn represents is what humans have made of it. Not what it actually is.
And then there's Prince Lir. Looking back to my childhood thoughts after watching this movie, I remember I felt bad that he and Amalthea didn't stay together, but looking at those same memories as an adult? There's a bit of an unsettling... vibe to it. He actually complains to Molly that he felt guilty for killing a dragon that I'm pretty sure, I could be horribly wrong since I haven't seen it for a while as said before, he didn't have to kill. It wasn't threatening anyone, wasn't 'holding a hostage' for him to rescue, it even looked to be living in a remote place. He did it because he wanted to. To show off. But he complains because Amalthea didn't care he did it. That she wasn't fawning over him as he was expecting (mind, it could be because he was raised to expect that) because he killed a dragon. That she wasn't interested in him just 'cause he was a Prince, adopted or not.
All that aside, I loved the movie then and I still love it now. The songs felt perfect to me, the artwork was gorgeous, the characters were memorable and the climax was amazing.
Following the author of The Last Unicorn on Facebook is the only thing that makes being on that site worthwhile.
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fangdokja · 2 days ago
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🔞Run all you want, little omega—I love the chase.
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❤︎ Synopsis. Bound by fear and desire, an omega finds herself ensnared by a cruel, possessive alpha who thrives on her pain and submission, claiming her body and soul as his own. As she struggles to escape his grasp, she learns that freedom may come at a price too terrifying to pay.
♡ Book. A Heart Devoured: A Dark Yandere Anthology
♡ Pairing. Yandere! Alpha! Wolf Hybrid x Reader
♡ Novelette. #1 - Marked and Mated
♡ Word Count. 10,767
♡ TW. non-con, rape, blood play, overstimulation, forced oral, prey x predator dynamic, fear play, hunting play, permanent bodily injury, slut shaming, objectification, psychological torment, erotic horror elements, loss of virginity, mature language, fingering, humiliation, degradation, forced orgasms, sadism, BDSM, groping, omegaverse dynamics, biting, physical assault and violence, choking / breath play
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The forest is alive with the whispers of fear. Your breath comes in sharp, shallow bursts, each one slicing through the silence as you sprint through the thick underbrush. The fading light casts skeletal shadows across the forest floor, turning every twisted branch into a claw and every rustling leaf into the promise of something far worse. Your heartbeat is a wild drum, a desperate cadence that seems to echo the heavy footsteps closing in behind you.
“You can’t hide from me, little omega.” His voice rumbles like thunder through the twilight, a low, predatory growl that seems to wrap around you, suffocating and inescapable.
You don’t look back. You’ve learned by now that it’s a mistake to give him the satisfaction of seeing your terror. Instead, you focus on the path ahead—or what little you can see of it. The forest is dense here, the trees towering and gnarled, their roots eager to snare your stumbling feet. You’ve always prided yourself on your strength, your defiance, your ability to stand tall even when the world tried to bend you. But now, as the alpha’s guttural laugh reverberates through the trees, you feel the first cracks in your resolve.
“Oh, I’ll give you credit for trying,” he purrs, his amusement curling through the air like smoke. “But we both know how this ends, don’t we?”
You grit your teeth, pushing harder, your muscles screaming in protest. You’ve never been one to back down, not even when he first set his sights on you. The cat and the wolf, they’d said. A pairing as impossible as it was inevitable. And yet, here you are, the prey in a hunt you can’t seem to win.
He’s always known what you are beneath the mask. An omega masquerading as an alpha, a fragile shell of dominance that he’d seen through from the very beginning. It’s not your fault, really. Survival demanded the façade. But survival is a cruel master, and it’s brought you to him. The predator who doesn’t just want to unmask you but to rip you apart, piece by trembling piece, until there’s nothing left but the shattered remains of your pride.
The sound of snapping branches draws closer, and you know he’s toying with you now. Letting you think you have a chance, letting you run just far enough to taste freedom before he rips it away. The ground beneath you is uneven, littered with roots and fallen leaves that threaten to trip you with every step. The forest seems to close in, the trees looming, their twisted limbs reaching for you like greedy hands.
“Run,” he commands, his voice a cruel whisper that somehow slices through the cacophony of your pounding heart and ragged breath. “Run faster, little omega. Make it fun for me.”
Your lungs burn, your legs ache, but you don’t stop. You can’t. The thought of what awaits you if he catches you… no, when he catches you… is too much to bear. His scent lingers in the air, sharp and musky, an oppressive reminder that no matter how far you go, he’s always there. Watching. Waiting. Hunting.
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The chase is relentless, and despite your efforts, you feel his breath hot on your neck, his large hands almost grabbing hold of your tail. Panic flutters in your chest, and you know that if he catches you, there's no telling what he'll do. The trees blur together as you sprint, your sides burning with exertion.
You spot a small clearing up ahead, and you make a desperate dash for it, hoping for a moment's respite.
But as you leap into the open, you realize your mistake too late.
The clearing is a trap, surrounded by thorny bushes and a steep ravine, leaving you no escape.
He emerges from the shadows, his teeth bared in a vicious smile. "Looks like you're mine now, omega," he sneers, his eyes flashing with triumph. Your stomach turns to lead as you realize you're cornered, the predator closing in for the kill.
"No, please," you whimper, your voice cracking with fear as he prowls closer.
He stops a few feet away, his towering form casting a long shadow over you. "You know what you need," he says, his voice low and commanding. "You need a strong alpha to show you your place."
You grit your teeth, refusing to give in to his taunts, your eyes flashing with defiance.
But his scent is overwhelming, a potent mix of musk and power that sends a thrill through your body despite your fear.
"I'll never be your omega," you spit out, your voice stronger than you feel.
He laughs, a cold, cruel sound that sends a shiver down your spine. "We'll see about that."
As you remain defiant, your eyes never leaving his, the alpha wolf's smile only widens. He seems to enjoy the challenge, his eyes gleaming with a newfound excitement.
He takes a step closer, and you react instinctively, lashing out with your claws and teeth. You manage to scratch his muscular arm with your claws, drawing a thin line of crimson against his otherwise perfect skin.
He grunts in surprise, but instead of retreating, his eyes light up with a predatory thrill. "So you want to play hard to get, huh?" He says, his voice thick with amusement. "Fine, I can do that."
With a sudden burst of speed, he lunges at you, his powerful jaws snapping shut around your neck.
You yelp in pain and surprise as his teeth dig in, the pressure enough to make you dizzy but not enough to break the skin. He lifts you off the ground, your legs kicking wildly in the air. His grip tightens, and you feel the world start to spin around you.
"Struggle all you want, it'll only make it better," he whispers in your ear, his hot breath sending waves of fear and disgust through your body. You thrash in his grip, trying to break free, but his strength is overwhelming.
His teeth clamp down harder, a clear warning of what's to come if you don't submit. You can feel your energy waning, the fear and pain making it difficult to keep fighting.
He drags you through the thorny bushes, tearing at your clothes and skin. The pain is intense, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of hearing you scream. He tosses you onto the ground, the impact knocking the wind out of you.
Before you can recover, he's on top of you, his heavy weight pinning you down. His clawed hands rip away the remnants of your shirt, exposing your bruised and bleeding skin to the cool night air, as you thrash and squirm in response.
The alpha wolf's grin widens as you fight back with renewed vigor, his eyes gleaming with excitement at your resistance. He grabs your wrists in his massive hands, pinning them to the ground above your head with surprising gentleness.
"Oh, you're going to be so much fun to break," he murmurs, his tongue flicking out to taste the blood that trickles from the scratches you've managed to inflict. His weight shifts, pressing his thick erection against your pelvis, and you can feel the heat radiating from it even through your torn pants.
With a quick, efficient movement, he rips your pants away, exposing your vulnerable, untouched sex to his hungry gaze. You try to buck him off, but his grip on your wrists is unyielding. "Don't worry, bitch," he purrs, "I'll make sure you enjoy this. Eventually."
His other hand moves down your body, his claws tracing the lines of your ribs and stomach with feather-light precision, sending shivers of fear and unwanted arousal through you.
Your hiss pierces the night air, a mix of anger and fear, as you furiously claw at the hybrid wolf's chest. Your nails dig into his flesh, leaving shallow trails of blood behind.
He snarls, his grip on your wrists tightening slightly, but instead of retaliating, he seems to be getting more and more turned on by your resistance. "Such a feisty little omega," he murmurs, his eyes darkening with lust. "But we both know who's in control here."
Ignoring your futile struggles, he lowers his head and runs his tongue along the column of your throat, savoring your taste. You try to turn away, but his jaw clamps down on your neck, his teeth grazing your skin just hard enough to make you whimper. He releases your neck, his eyes locking onto yours. "You're mine now," he growls, "And I'll have every part of you."
“I have a mate already!” You scream a panicked lie, remaining defiant.
He laughs, a dark, cruel sound that sends a shiver down your spine. "A mate?" He repeats, his grip on your wrists tightening slightly.
"You think that means anything to me? I'm going to fuck you until you forget his scent, until you're begging for me to knot you." With those words, he leans down, capturing your mouth in a brutal, claiming kiss. His tongue forces its way past your teeth, tasting the sweetness of your fear and the metallic tang of your blood.
You try to bite him, but he anticipates your move, his teeth clamping down on your lower lip, drawing more blood. He pulls back, his eyes gleaming with victory. "You're mine, omega," he whispers, his breath hot against your face.
With a sudden, brutal yank, he pulls you closer, his erection now pressing painfully against your stomach. His hand moves between your legs, his claws digging into your tender flesh as he rips away the last of your clothing.
You scream into the night, the sound piercing and desperate, but it's swallowed by the forest's indifferent embrace. The cold ground beneath you is unforgiving, a stark contrast to the heat of his body pressing against yours.
Your desperate fight against his overwhelming strength is met with a sadistic chuckle as the hybrid wolf seems to take pleasure in your futile struggles. He pins your arms above your head with one paw, his other hand moving to your breasts.
He squeezes them roughly, eliciting a gasp of pain that turns into a whine when his claws dig in slightly. "You're so delicate," he says, his voice a mix of mockery and lust. "So easily broken."
You manage to free one arm and deliver a weak punch to his jaw, but it barely phases him. He just laughs and captures your wrist again, his grip like iron. "That's the spirit," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"But it's not going to save you." His clawed hand slides down your body, teasing over your stomach and finally coming to rest between your legs. You try to clench your thighs together, but his weight makes it impossible.
"Open up," he commands, his voice a low, guttural growl. "You know what I want."
As you refuse to give in to his demand, the alpha hybrid wolf's eyes flash with anger and arousal. He leans down, his teeth bared, and sinks them into your inner thigh, biting as hard as he can.
You scream out in pain, the sound piercing the quiet forest night. Your body arches off the ground, your legs instinctively trying to close, but his weight holds you down firmly. His bite is deep, and you can feel the warmth of your blood trickling down your thigh, mixing with the scent of your fear and his own lust.
He releases your wrists for a moment, only to grab your legs and force them apart with his powerful hands. You kick and struggle, but it's useless. His teeth dig in deeper, the pain unbearable, and your body responds despite your mind's protest.
The hybrid wolf's teeth tear into your sensitive flesh as he forcefully spreads your legs apart, the pain from his bite making your body tense.
He doesn't give you a chance to recover as he dives between your thighs, his hot, wet tongue sliding over your clit with a brutal lack of finesse.
You try to clench your muscles to avoid his assault, but the pain and fear make it impossible to maintain. He laps at you harshly, his tongue rough and uncaring as he tastes your resistance. You can feel the beginnings of an unwelcome arousal building within you, despite the agony of his bite marks in your thigh.
He smirks at your involuntary reaction, his eyes gleaming with triumph as he sees the beginnings of arousal shimmering in your gaze despite your pain. He knows he's getting to you, and it only makes him more determined to claim what he sees as his.
His tongue swirls around your clit, the roughness of his licks sending shockwaves of pleasure-pain through your body. You try to pull away, but his teeth dig into the soft flesh of your inner thigh, holding you in place as he continues to ravage your pussy.
As he fucks you with his tongue and teeth, your body betrays you. Your hips begin to buck against his mouth, your moans and screams growing louder despite your attempts to stifle them.
Your nails dig into the dirt, desperate for something to hold onto as the pleasure-pain overwhelms you. His teeth graze your clit, and you feel your orgasm building, a crescendo of unwanted ecstasy that you can't escape from.
He pulls away from your throbbing clit, panting heavily, his tongue and teeth coated with your juices. "You're so fucking delicious," he says, his voice thick with lust.
He grabs your face with one hand, his claws digging into your cheeks painfully as he forces your eyes to meet his. "Admit it, omega. You want this just as much as I do."
“N-No…!!!” You stutter out in defiance.
The hybrid wolf's grin turns feral at your continued defiance. He loves the taste of your fear and your unwilling arousal, and your refusal to submit only makes him hungrier.
He dives back between your legs, his teeth and tongue attacking your clit with renewed vigor. You try to turn your face away, biting your lip to keep from moaning, but the pressure is too much. His claws dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, holding you in place as he licks and bites with a primal hunger.
"You can't hide it," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "Your body betrays you."
With a vicious swipe of his tongue, he sends you spiraling over the edge, your body shuddering with an unwanted climax.
The pleasure is intense, as you moan unwittingly loudly, but the humiliation is even stronger.
Tears stream down your cheeks as he laps up your essence, his eyes never leaving yours. "Mmm," he hums, savoring the taste. "You're going to fucking scream for me soon enough."
As the hybrid wolf's tongue continues its relentless assault on your clit, you feel your body responding in ways you never wanted. Your pussy clenches around his tongue, and your hips buck involuntarily as you try to push him away.
But every move you make seems to only excite him more, his licks growing more demanding, his teeth grazing you in a way that's both painful and exhilarating.
Despite your mental resistance, your body is succumbing to the overwhelming pleasure, your walls tightening around his tongue as if begging for more.
You can't help but moan, the sound ripped from your throat as you feel another orgasm building. The alpha wolf's eyes gleam with victory as he sees the effect he's having on you, and he doubles down, his tongue fucking you with a ferocity that has you seeing stars.
You're so close, so close, and you hate yourself for it. "N-no," you murmur, your voice weak and trembling. "Please, stop."
He chuckles darkly, the vibration of his mirth sending more waves of pleasure through your body. "You don't mean that," he says, his breath hot against your swollen, sensitive folds.
"You're just saying that because you don't want to admit how much you crave it." With a final, brutal swipe of his tongue, you cum again jolting and moaning helplessly; before he pulls away abruptly, leaving you gasping and shaking with need.
The hybrid wolf can't help but growl in approval at your body's betrayal, his eyes locked on the glistening wetness of your pussy, now quivering and begging for his touch. He licks his lips, savoring the sweet, musky taste of your arousal.
"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust, "Fucking squirting all over me like a good breeding bitch." His eyes darken with possession as he takes in your flushed cheeks and the desperate look in your eyes.
He knows you're close to breaking, and that's just how he loves it.
With a smug grin, he shifts his weight, releasing your legs from his vice-like grip. You try to scurry away, but he's too quick, grabbing you by the ankles and dragging you back towards him.
He flips you onto your stomach, your bruised and scratched body now exposed to the damp, cold earth. "You're going to take me now," he says, his voice a mix of command and promise. "And you're going to love it."
“N-No! Stop! Please!” You scream weakly, fighting back desperately and defiantly.
Your weak screams of protest fall on his deaf ears as the alpha wolf forced you onto your stomach, his strong arms easily overpowering your feeble attempts to escape. The cold, damp earth presses against your skin, making you feel even more vulnerable and exposed.
He straddles you, his heavy bodyweight a stark reminder of his dominance and your helplessness. The sound of him unbuckling his pants is a harsh, jolting reality check, and your heart races as you feel the hot, thick head of his cock pressing against your entrance.
Your squirming and desperate attempts to fight him off only seem to excite the hybrid wolf more. He uses his powerful thighs to spread your legs apart, his cock sliding against your wet, trembling pussy.
Despite your fear, your body is betraying you, lubricating his shaft with your unwilling arousal. His grip on your ankles tightens as he leans over you, his massive body casting a shadow over yours. You can feel his breath against your neck, hot and ragged, as he whispers, "You're going to take all of me, little omega. Every damn inch."
He pushes forward, the head of his cock breaching your tight entrance.
You scream, the pain searing through you like a knife, your nails digging into the soil as you try to find stabilization. "Fuck," he groans, his voice strained with effort. "You're so tight, so fucking tight."
He doesn't pause, continuing to thrust into you, each movement driving the air from your lungs and sending shockwaves of agony through your body. The hybrid wolf's cock stretches you open, the pain of your hymen tearing a white-hot brand across your consciousness. You feel your body clench around him, desperately trying to push him out, but he's unrelenting.
With a savage grin, he slams into you, burying his cock to the hilt with a roar of triumph. The force of his thrusts sends shockwaves of agony through you, and you can't help but sob into the dirt.
Your vision blurs, the world narrowing down to the searing pain between your legs.
"You're mine now," he growls, his teeth nipping at your neck. "You're going to be my good little omega, aren't you?" His grip on your ankles tightens, his nails digging in as he pulls back and slams into you again.
Each thrust feels like a declaration of ownership, a claim that you can't escape.
You can feel your insides stretching to accommodate his monstrous length, your body trying to adjust to the brutal intrusion. Your breath hitches as he hits a spot deep within you, sending a bolt of pleasure-pain that makes you cry out.
You try to push up onto your hands, but the pain is too much, and you collapse back onto the ground. His hips rock against yours, the slap of flesh on flesh echoing through the clearing.
The smell of your blood and arousal fills the air, a potent mix that seems to drive him even wilder. "You're going to love being my omega," he says, his voice a dark promise. "You're going to love the way I fuck you, the way I fill you up with my cum."
The alpha wolf's massive cock continues to pound into you without mercy, your body jolting with every brutal thrust. You can feel him stretching you to your limits, filling you completely and claiming you in the most primal of ways.
His hips slap against your bruised flesh, the sound echoing through the night like a twisted mating call.
He's not just fucking you; he's marking you, branding you as his property.
Your own desperate cries are muffled by the dirt as you try to scream through the pain, your voice hoarse from the effort.
"You're mine," he repeats, his voice a deep growl that sends shivers down your spine. "Fucking MINE." He bites down hard on the back of your neck, his teeth piercing the tender skin.
You can feel the warmth of your own blood mixing with the sticky sweat coating your body.
It's a claim, a promise of what's to come.
The pain is so intense that it's almost a relief when the initial agony of your lost virginity fades into a dull, persistent throb.
He's not gentle, not even a little.
His thrusts are deep and powerful, a relentless battering ram against your slick, abused walls. You're not sure if you're crying or if it's just the sweat and tears mixing on your face, but you know you can't keep fighting.
Your body feels like it's being torn apart, and every time he hits that spot deep inside you, you feel a strange mix of pain and something else… something that you hate admitting could be pleasure.
"P-Please," you manage to gasp out, your voice a broken whisper. "P-Please, it h-hurts."
He laughs darkly, his breath hot against your neck. "Good," he says, his hips moving faster. "It's supposed to fucking hurt. It's supposed to remind you of who's in charge."
His teeth graze your skin, and you can feel his knot swelling at the base of his cock, preparing to claim you in the most primal way possible.
As you lay there, sobbing into the cold, unforgiving earth, the hybrid wolf's hips piston into you without mercy. His teeth are still latched onto the back of your neck, his knot swelling with every brutal thrust. You feel his dominance in every inch of your being, a stark, painful reminder that you are utterly at his mercy.
Your body shakes with the effort to withstand his relentless assault, each thrust driving his knot further into you, stretching you to the point of agony.
The alpha wolf's knot swells further, reaching its full size, and lodges itself inside you, effectively trapping him within your body.
You feel a new level of fullness, a pressure that makes you gasp and whine, your body trying to reject the unyielding intrusion.
His movements become more erratic, his growls deeper as he starts to lose control, his hips slamming into you without rhythm or care. "Take it," he snarls, his voice a feral rumble. "Take every fucking inch."
Your own voice is lost in a sob as you feel his knot expanding even further, the pain a white-hot brand across your consciousness.
Your body tenses around him, trying to force him out, but it's a futile effort.
His grip on your ankles tightens, his nails digging deeper into your flesh as he starts to fuck you harder, his knot moving within you, the sensation a mix of agony and something else. Something that makes your body respond despite your mind's screaming protests.
"You're mine," he says again, his voice a harsh growl. "My omega, my wife." His thrusts become erratic, his breaths coming in pants as he starts to lose control.
You can feel the warmth of his seed building, his cock pulsing within you. "You're going to take it," he says, his teeth pressing down on your neck. "You're going to take every drop of my cum, and you're going to love it."
You whimper, your body trembling under the onslaught of pain and unwanted pleasure. The knot inside you is unbearable, stretching you further than you ever thought possible. You can't move, can't do anything but endure as he takes his fill of you, your body his plaything.
His hips slam into your bruised ass, the force of his thrusts making you see stars. "Yes," he hisses, his grip on your ankles tightening. "You're going to milk me dry."
You feel his knot swell even more, the pressure unbearable, and you know what's coming. He's going to fill you with his cum, claiming you in the most primal, irrevocable way. You try to fight, to push him away, but your body is too weak, too used.
Your sobs become screams as he starts to cum, his hot seed flooding your insides, filling you up until you can't take it anymore. His teeth dig into your neck, holding you in place as he marks you, his orgasm a violent, possessive act that leaves you shaking.
The alpha wolf's hips slow, his cock still pulsing inside you. He pulls out slightly, only to push back in, his knot keeping him connected to you.
The feeling is agonizing, but you can't help the way your body responds, your pussy clenching around him, milking him dry. He groans with pleasure, his hips bucking against you as he empties himself into you. "That's it," he murmurs, his voice a dark, sated growl. "Good little omega."
As he cums, you feel something within you shift. The pain is still there, but it's overlaid with a strange, primal need.
Your body seems to crave his seed, your walls tightening around him as if trying to keep him inside you.
It's as if your body knows what he's done, that he's marked you as his, and it's trying to accept it, to submit to his dominance.
You hate yourself for it, but the feeling is undeniable.
He pulls out of you with a wet pop, his knot shrinking until it's no longer lodged inside you. You collapse onto the ground, your body trembling with exhaustion and the aftershocks of your forced climax.
The alpha wolf stands over you, his cock still hard and gleaming with your blood and combined juices. He licks his lips, his eyes never leaving yours. "Look at the mess you've made," he says, his voice filled with dark amusement. "You're going to clean me up, aren't you?"
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But, then the alpha wolf's eyes narrow as he watches you pathetically try to crawl away, your body trembling from the intense pain and pleasure of his rough claiming.
His patience wears thin at your continuous refusal to submit, his lip curling in a snarl.
He strides towards you, his massive form casting a shadow that makes you feel even smaller and more vulnerable.
You try to scuttle away faster, your legs shaking with the effort, but your weakened state only makes your escape attempts more pitiful.
"Where do you think you're going?" he snarls, his voice a low, menacing rumble that sends shivers down your spine.
He grabs you by the scruff of your neck, his grip firm yet gentle in comparison to his earlier brutality. "You're mine now, little omega. There's no running from that."
His eyes are filled with a mix of anger and hurt, his pupils dilated with desire. He shakes his head, the disappointment in his gaze almost as painful as his earlier bites. "I didn't expect you to be this stubborn," he murmurs, almost to himself.
You whimper, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breathing. Your body aches from his rough handling, but a part of you can't deny the strange, dark thrill that runs through you at his words.
"Please," you croak out, your voice hoarse from your earlier screams. "Let me go."
He tilts his head to the side, studying you with a predatory gaze. "Why should I?" he asks, his voice deceptively calm.
"You're mine now. You've felt what I can do to you. Why would you want to leave?" He runs a claw lightly down your spine, the threat implicit in the gesture. You shiver, your body responding despite your fear.
"I don't…I don't want this," you whisper, your voice trembling. "Please, let me go."
The alpha hybrid wolf's grip on your neck tightens for a brief moment before releasing you entirely. He steps back, watching you with a cold, calculating gaze. "You think you can just walk away?" he sneers.
"You're mine now. You're going to bear my pups, and you're going to do it willingly." His eyes flash with a dangerous intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. "If you keep fighting me, I'll just have to get more creative with your punishments."
You manage to push yourself onto your hands and knees, your body still shaking from the overwhelming pain and humiliation.
You spit dirt out of your mouth and look up at him, your true inner will finally bursting out in frustration, your eyes full of defiance despite the tears that stain your cheeks. "I'll never be yours, you damn bastard rapist," you hiss through gritted teeth. "Never."
The hybrid wolf's expression darkens, his eyes narrowing to slits. "We'll see about that," he says, his voice low and dangerous.
He takes a step closer, and you can't help but flinch, your body instinctively remembering the pain he's capable of inflicting. "You're going to learn your place, little omega. And when you do, you'll beg for my cock."
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As you manage to stumble to your feet, the alpha wolf watches you with a predatory gaze, his eyes tracking your every movement. He seems to revel in the power he holds over you, his chest heaving with each breath as if your fear and pain are a sweet scent that fuels his arousal.
With a wicked smile, he steps aside, allowing you to run, his tail flicking in anticipation of the chase.
The alpha wolf's smile widens into a full-blown grin as he watches you limp away, your bruised and bloodied body a testament to his dominance. "Run, little omega," he says, his voice a dark promise. "But remember, I'll be waiting for you. And when I catch you again, I'll fuck you until you can't ever fucking walk again."
You stumble through the underbrush, the pain of his knotting still resonating through your body.
You're not sure how much more of this you can take, but you know you can't just give up. You have to find a way out of this nightmare, a way to escape him and his twisted games.
The forest blurs around you, the pain and fear clouding your vision. You don't know where you're going, only that you have to get away.
The hybrid wolf watches you go, his smile never leaving his face. He knows you won't get far, not in your current state. He's toyed with you enough to know your limits, to know how much you can handle before you break.
But he also knows that the chase is part of the thrill, the anticipation of the hunt making the eventual capture all the more satisfying.
He lets you run, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic glee as he watches the desperation in your movements.
You stumble through the underbrush, your legs wobbly from the rough treatment he's just given you. You're not a fast runner, not with the pain radiating from your torn hymen and the heavy weight of his cum filling you.
But you force yourself to go on, driven by a primal need to escape the monster that's claimed you.
Twigs snap beneath your feet, leaves crunching as you push yourself harder, ignoring the sting of your bruised flesh against the rough ground.
Behind you, the alpha wolf laughs, the sound echoing through the trees like a dark promise.
You know he's not really letting you go; he's just enjoying the thrill of the chase.
His powerful form moves with an eerie grace, his eyes locked on yours, a twisted smile playing across his face. The thought of what he'll do to you when he catches you sends a fresh wave of terror through your body, and you push yourself to go faster.
You stumble through the forest, the pain in your legs growing with each step. Your heart races in your chest, the fear of his pursuit driving you forward even as your body screams for rest.
The moon casts a silver glow through the canopy, lighting your path but also making you feel more exposed.
You can hear the rustle of leaves as he stalks you, his movements deliberate and calculated.
He's enjoying this, you realize with a sickening feeling in your stomach.
He's enjoying making you run.
The alpha hybrid wolf's laughter echoes through the trees, a taunting, predatory sound that sends a chill down your spine. "You can't escape me, little omega," he calls out, his voice deep and resonant. "Wherever you go, I'll find you."
The words are a promise, one that fills you with dread. You know he's not lying; he's a creature of the hunt, and you're his prey.
You push yourself harder, your lungs burning and your legs aching. Your senses are heightened, every sound in the forest a potential threat.
You can feel his presence behind you, a looming shadow that seems to grow closer with each passing second. "Faster," he says, his voice a whisper in the wind. "Or I'll just have to drag you back, kicking and screaming."
You whip around, your eyes wild with fear. The hybrid wolf is closer than you thought, his teeth bared in a feral smile.
You can see the hunger in his gaze, the need to claim and possess you. "You can't do this," you choke out, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I won't be your omega, I won't let you do this to me."
"You don't have a choice," he says, his voice cold and final. He stalks closer, his eyes gleaming with a dark light that makes your heart race. "You're mine now, and I'll fuck you whenever I want. And you’ll just have to damn well take it, you stubborn bitch.”
His words are a promise, one that sends a shiver of dread through your body.
You stumble back, trying to put more distance between you, but your legs are wobbly, your body still reeling from his earlier assault.
He doesn't give you the chance to run again.
With a snarl, he lunges, his powerful body moving with the grace of a predator.
You scream, your voice raw from your earlier cries, and try to dart away, but he's too fast. His massive hands land on your shoulders, pushing you to the ground. "Struggle all you want," he growls, his breath hot against your ear. "It'll just make it better."
You squirm beneath him, your body slick with sweat and tears. His weight is a crushing presence, a reminder of the brutal reality of your situation. "Please," you whimper, your voice shaking. "P-Please stop, no more, p-please."
The alpha hybrid wolf chuckles darkly, his breath hot against your ear. "What's the matter, little omega?" he asks, his voice mocking.
"Can't handle your new life?" His claws dig into your shoulders, his grip unyielding. "You should have thought of that before you decided to play hard to get."
You try to buck him off, to kick and claw, but your body feels like it's made of lead, and his weight is too much for you to bear.
You feel his cock, still hard and slick with your blood and cum, pressing against your thigh, a constant reminder of his dominance. "Get off me," you snarl weakly, trying to push him away. "I'm not your plaything."
He laughs, the sound a low, dark rumble that sends shivers down your spine. "Oh, but you are," he says, his voice dripping with malice. "And I'm going to enjoy breaking you in."
His teeth graze the shell of your ear, his tongue flicking out to taste your fear. "You're going to beg for it, you know," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "You're going to beg for me to fill you up and make you scream my name."
You grit your teeth, trying to ignore the unwelcome spark of arousal his words stir in you. "Never," you spit out, your voice laced with defiance.
The alpha wolf's eyes flash with anger, his grip tightening on your shoulders. "We'll see about that," he growls, his teeth grazing your neck as he pins you down.
You can feel his cock, still rock-hard and slick with your blood and cum, pressing insistently against your thigh. His knot starts to swell again, a sign that he's not yet done with you.
"No," you whimper, your voice shaking with fear and exhaustion. "I won't let you."
His teeth find your neck again, and you feel the sharp pain as he bites down, claiming you once more with a possessive growl. Your body tenses, your weak struggles doing nothing to deter him as he lines his thick, swollen cock up with your sore, bloodied entrance.
You can feel the beginnings of his knot swelling at the base, the promise of another agonizing mating session that you know you won't be able to resist.
Your weakened attempts to fight back only seem to excite the alpha hybrid wolf more, his eyes gleaming with a mix of anger and lust. His teeth sink deeper into your neck, holding you in place as he starts to push his cock inside you again.
You feel the pressure building as his knot swells, the pain of his previous claim still fresh in your mind. You try to buck your hips, to twist away from him, but his weight and strength are too much.
The hybrid wolf's response to your increased struggle is to kiss you hard and without mercy, his teeth grazing your lower lip as he takes your mouth in a punishing, possessive kiss. His tongue invades your mouth, tasting your fear and the coppery tang of your blood, a flavor that only seems to inflame his desire further.
His kiss is a claim of ownership, a declaration that you belong to him and no other.
You feel his cock, still slick with the evidence of his previous claim, push against your entrance, the swollen knot at its base a constant, painful reminder of the fate that awaits you.
You try to bite his tongue, to push him away with every ounce of strength you have left, but it's like trying to fight a hurricane with a single leaf. He's unyielding, his mouth moving over yours in a violent dance that leaves you breathless and dizzy.
His grip on your shoulders tightens, his hands digging into your flesh as he uses his superior strength to hold you in place.
You feel the tip of his cock breach you once again, the pain sharp and immediate, making you cry out against his mouth.
The alpha wolf's kiss is brutal, his teeth scraping against your lips as he takes what he wants without regard for your protests. His tongue fills your mouth, tasting the desperation and the faint sweetness of your fear.
His cock slams into you, the swollen knot at the base stretching you wider than you ever thought possible, making you scream into his mouth. Your body fights against his intrusion, your muscles clenching around his thick length as you try to push him out, but his strength is overwhelming.
He pulls away, panting heavily, his eyes never leaving yours. "You're going to learn to love it," he says, his voice a low growl. "You're going to crave the feel of me inside you, marking you, claiming you."
He pushes into you again, his hips moving in a punishing rhythm that makes you cry out with every thrust. You can feel his knot swelling, the pressure unbearable as he forces his way deeper and deeper.
You thrash beneath him, your nails digging into the dirt as you try to find anything to help you, to push him away. But his weight is too much, his strength too overwhelming. "Stop," you gasp, your voice breaking on the word. "Please, stop!"
He chuckles darkly, his breath hot on your face. "You're so pathetic," he sneers, his thrusts becoming more punishing. "Begging for it already."
The alpha wolf's cruel chuckle fills the air as he drives into you, his knot stretching you to the limits of endurance.
Despite the pain, your body starts to betray you again, responding to his rough treatment with unwanted arousal.
Each punishing thrust sends a jolt of pleasure through your abused body, and you feel your walls clench around him, trying in vain to push him out.
He seems to sense your struggle, his eyes darkening with satisfaction as he leans in closer, his teeth nipping at your ear.
"That's it," he murmurs, his voice a low, seductive growl. "Take it, you stubborn bitch. Take all of me." His hips move faster, his cock pistoning in and out of you with a brutal efficiency that leaves you gasping.
You can't help but whimper, your body trembling with the effort of resisting the building pleasure. "You're going to cum for me," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "You're going to scream my name as I fill you up."
You want to fight it, you want to keep your dignity intact, but your body has a mind of its own. The hybrid wolf's relentless assault sends waves of pleasure crashing over you, each thrust pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "No," you moan, the word torn from your lips despite your best efforts. "I won't…I won't…ahh…"
He chuckles again, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Yes, you will," he says, his voice filled with dark amusement. "You can't help it, can you? Your body knows what it needs." His hands move to your hips, his claws digging in as he pulls you into his thrusts, each one more powerful than the last.
You whine, trying to deny the building climax, but your body has its own agenda. Your hips buck up to meet him, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through your bruised core.
He's right; you can't fight it, not when he's so deep inside you, not when his knot is swelling and demanding your submission. You feel the first spasm of your orgasm, your muscles clenching around his cock, and he grunts in satisfaction.
"There it is," he murmurs, his voice a dark purr that sends shivers down your spine. "Give in to it, little omega. Let me feel you cum around me." His thrusts grow more erratic, his knot swelling to a terrifying size.
You can't hold back the scream that rips from your throat as your climax hits you like a storm, your body writhing beneath him. He takes advantage of your weakened state, slamming into you harder, the knot stretching you further than you thought possible.
The pleasure is unbearable, your body a live wire of sensation as he takes you over the edge.
But amidst the waves of ecstasy, you feel a sharp, searing pain as your leg gives way beneath his weight.
You scream in agony, the sound muffled by his mouth as he kisses you roughly, swallowing your cries.
"Mine," he snarls, his teeth digging into your neck. You feel his cock pulse inside you, filling you with his seed, claiming you once again.
Your body convulses around him, the pain in your lower body mixing with the agony of his brutal mating.
"You…you monster," you whimper, tears streaming down your face as your body continues to spasm around his knot.
The pain in your leg is like nothing you've ever felt before, a white-hot agony that sends shockwaves through your body.
You try to kick him off, to fight back with every ounce of strength you have left, but the pain is too much. You're trapped beneath him, his knot swollen and lodged deep inside you, his seed filling you up and marking you as his property.
After riding out your orgasm, the alpha wolf pulls out of you with a smug smile, his cock still hard and gleaming with your blood and cum.
He looks down at your broken leg, the bone jutting out at an unnatural angle, and his eyes flash with a twisted kind of satisfaction. "Looks like you'll be staying put," he says, his voice a dark purr. "It's for the best, really. Less running around for you to do."
You whimper, the pain making it hard to focus, to think. "W-Why are you doing this?" you ask, your voice shaking. "What do you want from me?"
The alpha hybrid wolf's smile widens, his eyes cold. "Everything," he says, his voice a dark whisper. "I want everything you have to give, and then some."
He runs a hand down your side, his claws lightly scoring your flesh. You flinch, but he doesn't stop, his touch a sadistic caress that makes your skin crawl. "I want you to submit, to beg for my cock, to crave my touch."
His voice is low, hypnotic, and for a moment, you almost believe you could want that.
────────────
The alpha wolf's cold, sadistic gaze locks onto your trembling form as he pulls out a set of long piano strings, the metal glinting menacingly in the moonlight.
You watch in horror as he wraps them around your uninjured leg, his eyes never leaving yours. The strings bite into your skin, the tension palpable as he tightens them, his teeth bared in a feral smile.
You try to kick him away, but the pain in your broken leg sends shockwaves through your body, leaving you incapacitated.
The alpha wolf's eyes gleam with excitement as he tightens the piano strings around your leg, the metal biting into your flesh with a cruel precision.
You scream in agony, the pain from your broken leg now eclipsed by the new torment.
He's not destroying it yet, but the threat is clear in his sadistic smile. He enjoys watching you squirm, your fear and pain only serving to fuel his lust.
"Please," you beg, your voice breaking. "Please, don't do this."
The alpha wolf's smile only widens as he tightens the strings further, watching as the color drains from your face. "Why do you keep fighting?" he asks, his tone mocking. "You're only making it worse for yourself."
Through gritted teeth, you manage to spit out through the tears, "Because I'm not your omega." Despite the pain, a small part of your spirit remains unbroken, the fire in your eyes a silent challenge.
The hybrid wolf's chuckle sends a cold shiver down your spine as he tightens the piano strings around your uninjured leg.
The pain is unbearable, your body writhing in agony as the metal digs into your flesh. You feel the warm trickle of blood start to run down your leg, the reality of his plan sinking in with a sickening thud. The strings are cutting through your skin, the tension building until you can feel the bone of your femur grinding against them.
Each twist of his hands sends a fresh wave of pain through you, and you can't help but cry out, your voice hoarse from your previous screams.
The alpha wolf leans in closer, his teeth bared in a sadistic grin as he whispers, "Let's see how much of a fighter you really are, my little omega."
With a sickening twist of his paws, the piano strings tighten, biting deeper into your flesh.
The pain is unimaginable, the strings cutting through your skin and muscles, the bone of your leg feeling as if it's about to snap.
You scream, the sound raw and animalistic, as you feel the strings slice through the last of your resistance.
"Good," he murmurs, his eyes gleaming with perverse pleasure. "Scream for me, show me how much you hate it. Show me how much you're going to fight me every step of the way."
The alpha hybrid wolf's chuckles echo through the forest, sending a cold shiver down your spine. "I knew you'd be a fighter," he says, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "But that's what makes it all the more satisfying when you finally break."
He leans in closer, his hot breath against your face as he whispers, "And you will break, little omega. You'll beg me to keep you, to never leave you."
With a final twist of the piano strings, you feel the bone in your leg give way with a sickening crunch.
The pain is so intense, you're sure you're going to pass out, but somehow, you remain conscious, your eyes locked on his.
The alpha wolf's twisted smile widens as he watches the pain etched into your face, the strings tightening until the bone in your leg snaps with an audible crack.
You scream in agony, your body arching off the ground as much as his hold on you allows.
The pain is so intense, it feels as though your entire world has been reduced to the burning, searing heat of the strings digging into your flesh. He releases the tension slightly, watching as the blood starts to pool around the wound, the muscles in your leg quivering with the effort to stay attached to the bone.
"See?" he says, his voice a dark purr. "No more running for you. Now you're just where I want you, exactly how I want you."
He leans in closer, his hot breath fanning over your face, his teeth grazing your cheek. "But don't worry," he whispers, "I'll make sure you're taken care of. After all, you're my prize."
His hands move to stroke your side, his claws lightly grazing your skin. The gentleness of his touch is a stark contrast to the cruelty of his words, and it sends a shiver down your spine.
The alpha wolf's hands move with a cruel precision, tightening the piano strings once more. You feel the unbearable pressure build, the strings digging into your flesh like serrated knives. Your screams fill the forest, a desperate, primal sound that seems to echo off the very trees themselves.
You're not just begging now; you're pleading with everything you have, your voice hoarse from the screams that have torn from your throat. "P-Please," you sob, "please don't do this. I'll do anything, I'll be whatever you want me to be."
The hybrid wolf's smile widens, his eyes gleaming with triumph. "There it is," he says, his voice a low, satisfied rumble. "The sweet sound of submission."
He doesn't loosen the strings immediately, though; instead, he lets you squirm and beg for a few more moments, savoring the power he holds over you.
"Beg for it," he says, his voice a low growl. "Beg me not to take your other leg. Show me you're truly mine."
Trembling, you force the words out through your tears. "Please, I'm sorry, I'll submit, I'll be your omega, I won't fight you anymore, just don't take my leg, I'll do anything…" The words tumble out of you in a rush, each one a painful admission of defeat.
The alpha wolf's eyes narrow, considering your plea. He releases the strings slightly, the pressure on your leg easing just enough for you to draw in a shaky breath. "Anything?" he asks, his voice a low purr that sends a shiver down your spine.
You nod frantically, tears streaming down your face. "Anything," you repeat, your voice a broken whisper. "Just don't do this."
He tightens the strings once more, the pressure building until you can feel the bone in your leg starting to give way. You scream, your body jerking in a desperate attempt to escape the inevitable.
He chuckles, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Don't worry," he says, his voice soothing despite the horror of the situation. "I'll take good care of you. You'll be my little pet, my personal fucktoy to use whenever I please."
He leans in closer, his breath hot on your face, his eyes glinting with malicious intent. "And maybe, just maybe, if you're a very good girl, I'll let you keep that pretty little pussy of yours."
You whimper, the pain in your leg unbearable as you feel the strings begin to saw through the last of your resistance. Your mind is a whirlwind of fear and desperation, and you know that you've lost. "Please," you whisper, your voice trembling. "I-I'll be good, I'll do anything!"
The alpha hybrid wolf leans in closer, his breath warm against your cheek as he considers your words. "Prove it," he says, his voice a low growl that sends a shiver down your spine. He loosens his grip on the strings slightly, the pressure on your leg easing just enough to let you breathe. "Tell me you're mine," he demands.
You swallow hard, the words sticking in your throat like bile. But the pain is too great, and the fear of losing your leg too intense. "I'm yours," you whisper, the words a painful concession. "I'll do whatever you want."
The alpha hybrid wolf's eyes flicker with something that might almost be respect, but it's quickly overshadowed by his dominance. "That's better," he murmurs, his voice a dark caress. He loosens the strings a bit more, the pressure on your leg lessening slightly. "Now," he says, "tell me you want me to fuck you."
You can't believe the words are coming out of your mouth, but the alternative is too terrifying to consider. "I…I want you," you force out, your voice shaking. "I want you to fuck me."
The alpha hybrid wolf's smile broadens, his eyes gleaming with triumph. "That's what I like to hear," he murmurs, his hands moving to gently stroke the side of your face, the claws retracted.
His touch is surprisingly tender, a stark contrast to the brutality that came before. He releases the strings completely, and you feel the weight of his decision as the pain in your leg recedes to a dull throb.
The alpha wolf's kiss is like a brand, searing into your very soul and leaving no doubt of your newfound status.
His tongue invades your mouth, tasting your fear and desperation, and yet there's something darkly thrilling about the way he claims you, something that makes your heart race despite the pain and horror.
You can feel his cock, still hard and slick with your blood, pressing against you, demanding entry.
Your body reacts traitorously, your arousal spiking even as you bleed out, the pain and fear mixing in a toxic cocktail that somehow only makes the situation more intense.
He pulls back, his eyes dark with lust and power as he looks down at you. "You're mine now," he says, his voice a low growl. "Say it."
You whimper, the pain from your broken legs making it difficult to form coherent thoughts. "Y-yes," you choke out. "I'm yours."
You scream as he starts to thrust into you again, biting your shoulder without mercy, his knot swelling and forcing your shattered body to accommodate his brutal claim. Each movement sends bolts of agony through your legs, but you're too far gone to do anything but take it, your mind a haze of pain and submission.
He fucks you like an animal, his hips slamming into yours with a sickening wet sound that echoes through the forest. You can feel your body trying to fight back, but it's no match for his strength and dominance. The taste of blood is thick in the air, a testament to the brutality of his mating. His teeth dig deeper into your flesh, and you know that the marks he's leaving will never fully heal.
Your cries of pain are muffled by his mouth, his tongue invading yours in a twisted parody of affection as he continues to pound into you. Each thrust sends waves of agony through your body, your legs useless and forgotten beneath you. You can't even feel the pain anymore, it's just a part of you, a constant reminder of your new reality.
As you lay there, the hybrid wolf's teeth still embedded in your shoulder, the pain from your legs is a constant throb, but it's almost as if your body is trying to adapt to the new reality it's been thrust into.
Each thrust of his cock feels like a hot iron poker being pushed into your core, the pain and pleasure mixing until you can't tell the difference anymore. Your body betrays you, your walls clenching around him, trying to keep him inside you despite the horror of what's happening.
He releases your shoulder with a wet pop, the blood from the wound mixing with the fluids already coating your skin. "You're so tight," he murmurs, his voice a gruff growl. "So fucking tight, even with all the damage I've done to you." His eyes bore into yours, a challenge and a question in their depths. "Do you like it when I hurt you?"
The question hangs in the air, a silent demand for your truth. Your body is a wreck, your mind a tornado of agony and submission, but somehow, you find the strength to nod. The words come out as a whimper, barely audible. "Yes," you admit, your voice trembling. "I do."
The alpha wolf's hand snaps back, the slap echoing through the clearing like a gunshot.
Your cheek burns with the force of his blow, the impact sending your head spinning and your vision blurring with tears. The sting of his hand is a stark contrast to the burning agony in your legs, a reminder that your submission isn't enough to satisfy his twisted desires.
"Don't lie to me," he snarls, his voice a low, menacing rumble. "I can smell it on you, the scent of fear and pain. Tell me the truth."
You whimper, trying to gather your thoughts through the fog of pain and submission. "I…I do," you repeat, your voice shaking. "It's what you want, isn't it?"
The alpha wolf's eyes narrow, his grip on you tightening. "What I want," he says slowly, "is for you to be honest. To admit that you love the way I make you feel, that you crave the pain and the fear. That you need me to own you completely."
He leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "But I know you're a damn liar, my sweet omega. I can see it in your eyes. You're fighting me even now."
The hybrid wolf's grip on the piano strings tightens, his hands moving with a sickening precision that sends a fresh wave of terror through you.
You can feel the strings cutting deeper into your leg, the pain so intense it steals your breath away.
With a final, brutal twist, the strings snap tight, and you feel a white-hot agony as your left leg is severed completely. The blood spurts in a crimson arc, painting the leaves and soil a gruesome shade of red.
You scream in wailing agony, the sound echoing through the forest, a haunting melody of pain and despair.
Your vision swims, the world turning to a kaleidoscope of colors as the pain overwhelms your senses. The ground beneath you feels cold and foreign as your body tries to comprehend the sudden loss of a limb.
The alpha wolf pulls away, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure as he watches you writhe in pain. "Look at what you've made me do," he murmurs, his voice a dark purr. "You've only got yourself to blame for this." His hands come up to wipe the blood from your face, his touch almost gentle, a stark contrast to the horror he's just inflicted upon you.
The alpha wolf's thrusts become even more brutal as he watches the pain and despair play out on your face.
You can feel your body giving in, your consciousness fading as the agony of your amputated leg combines with the overwhelming pressure of his knot inside you.
Each time he pulls out, it's like he's ripping out your soul along with his cock, only to shove it back in with a viciousness that sends shockwaves of agony through your body.
The smell of blood and sex is thick in the air, a heady perfume that seems to drive him to even greater heights of depravity.
Your cries become weaker and weaker, until finally, the world goes dark.
You're not sure if it's the pain or the blood loss, but everything around you fades away, leaving only the pounding of his hips against your mutilated body.
And yet, even as you slip into unconsciousness, you can feel his knot swelling, his seed filling you up. It's a final, vicious reminder of your new role in his life—his pet, his toy, his breeding omega.
────────────
The alpha wolf chuckles darkly as you lose consciousness beneath him, your body limp and broken. He leans in, pressing a sweet kiss to your bloodstained lips, his tongue delving into your mouth to claim one last victory.
His love is a twisted, possessive thing, a perversion of the bond that should have been gentle and consensual.
But as he whispers the words into your unhearing ear, his hips never stop moving, his cock never leaving your torn, abused hole.
Each thrust is a declaration of his dominance, a promise that you will never escape his grasp.
You're vaguely aware of his words, a faint murmur against your skin. "Mine," he repeats, his voice a low growl of triumph. "You're mine now, my beautiful omega. You can't run from me anymore."
His hands roam over your body, his claws tracing delicate patterns in your skin that make you shiver in your unconscious state despite the agony. "I'll take care of you," he says, his voice soothing despite the horror of his actions. "I'll make sure you never want for anything—except for my cock, filling you up, making you scream."
The alpha wolf's hips continue to piston into your unresponsive body, his knot still swollen and embedded deep within you. The warmth of your blood coats your thighs and your skin, painting a gruesome picture of his brutal claim.
Despite your unconsciousness, your body continues to react to him, your walls spasming around his cock, a reflexive response to the pain and the presence of his seed. His movements are relentless, a testament to his desire to fully dominate and claim you.
Each thrust sends waves of pain through your body, a stark reminder of the power dynamics at play in this twisted mating dance.
With a final, triumphant snarl, the alpha hybrid wolf releases his knot, filling you with his cum one last time before withdrawing completely. He stands over you, his cock glistening with your blood and his own seed.
He looks down at your amputated leg with a twisted sense of satisfaction, the crimson stump a testament to his dominance. "We'll see if you're worthy of having this back," he murmurs, his eyes gleaming with malicious intent. "But for now, you're exactly where you need to be—under me, bleeding for me."
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rxmxa · 21 hours ago
Text
The Leo-Aquarius Axis Redefined pt. 2 ⚡ 🧪⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
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Part One on the Leo-Aquarius Axis (Good to Read for Reference)
I was watching some intense video footage with my friend after something really brutal and chaotic happened in my neighborhood. Watching it alone was overwhelming because there was so much violence and chaos happening back to back. But then I re-watched it with my Aquarius stellium friend. And when I say stellium, I mean stellium. This girl is an Aquarius Sun, Mercury, Mars, Venus, Rising, with a Capricorn Moon and Uranus in the 10th house. She is genuinely the smartest person I know.
What I didn’t fully realize until that moment was just how good Aquarius energy is at processing information. Aquarius is an air sign, which means it thrives on mental challenges and intellectual stimulation. But it’s also fixed, which gives it a steady and sustained focus that doesn’t waver. Symbolically, Aquarius is the Water Bearer. It pours out knowledge, deep and distilled, offering it to the world. In moments of chaos, it feels like Aquarius processes everything at light speed, distills the important parts, and hands you the answers in such a breezy and nonchalant manner all like, “Oh, you didn’t notice that incredibly specific detail?”
While we were watching the footage, she kept pausing to point things out. She would say, “Look here, see his hand? Notice how he flinched.” Then she would rewind and say, “Listen again, did you hear what he said? He said ‘xyz.’” By the end of the night, mostly thanks to her, we had pieced together the timeline of what happened.
It was a heavy experience, but it also got me thinking about something I had written before about the Leo-Aquarius axis.
In that post, I said:
“If you are struggling to shine and develop your self-expression (Leo), look at the opposite of that (Aquarius), where you might need to release and let go of pressure. Especially internal pressure, since air sign energy is so connected to our thoughts and intellect. This sets the stage for success that feels aligned with your most genuine self.”
At the time, I was so focused on this idea of detachment leading to success that I wrote:
“The 11th house (Aquarius) rules your profits from your career, while the 5th house (Leo) rules your creativity and hobbies. Think about how many people have created art (5th house) without worrying about success or money, only to find widespread acclaim and rewards (11th house). In interviews, they always say, ‘I never imagined this would happen. I never imagined I would reach so many people.’ Why? Because they had detached. And that mindset can take you far.”
While that’s absolutely true, I realized I hadn’t fully considered the depth of this axis.
Aquarius isn’t just about letting go and hoping for the best. You don’t magically detach and suddenly see success show up in your Leo house.
Yes, you need to release expectations in your Aquarius house. But Aquarius isn’t about not caring. It’s about caring deeply for the process itself. It’s about learning for the sake of learning. Aquarius is the mad scientist energy, the inventor, the one who experiments and explores because it’s fascinating and because it feeds them.
Wherever Aquarius is in your chart, that’s where you need to step into that energy. It’s where you become the mad scientist, endlessly curious and driven to learn and discover. You absorb information, try new things, and gather knowledge for the sake of it. That process becomes the fuel that allows your Leo house to shine.
Aquarius prepares and strategizes, and Leo performs and shines. Success aligns when both energies are flowing together.
Aquarius builds the blueprint. It is the blueprint. Then Leo distributes it to the world. That’s where success or even monetization comes in. But it’s always at your pace, and always through doing what you love.
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How I Applied This in My Own Life
This realization hit me on such a personal level because I have struggled with 6th house themes my entire life. My weight, my routines, building habits, staying consistent. etc. No matter how hard I tried to force structure into my day-to-day life, it just never clicked. I would start strong, burn out, and then spiral into frustration.
But when I stopped trying to force myself into systems that didn’t fit me and leaned into my Aquarius 12th house energy, everything shifted. I stopped seeing my habits as rigid checklists and started treating them like little experiments. I became curious, open to trial and error, and focused on the process instead of the outcome.
Suddenly, my 6th house started to thrive. My health (gut health, mental health, lost 15 pounds) improved, my daily routines felt sustainable (set boundaries at work), and consistency became something I didn’t have to force anymore. It became second nature to be this new version of me.
The Leo-Aquarius Axis Guide
If you’ve ever felt torn between wanting to shine like Leo and strategize like Aquarius, my guide will show you how to:
Identify your Aquarius Lab and your Leo Stage in your chart
Create a sustainable cycle of preparation (aqua) and performance (leo)
Use both energies to create confidence, clarity, and success
get the guide here: ✨ [Mastering the Leo-Aquarius Axis] ⚡ 🧪⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
Con mucho amor, Ramona 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔
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stanpineskisser · 2 days ago
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Idc I will continue to empathize w Stanley.. why are ppl so against writing him/imagining him in situations where he’s expressing his soft side, and as a character, we need to understand that so much of his crazy moments are comedic exaggeration. He’s a comedy relief character in a cartoon. We can’t interpret every single thing he’s ever said/done as a defining statement of who he is because that’s not what it was meant for. It’s like saying Mabel is a domestic abuser because she kidnapped a boy band and kept them in her room!! There’s multiple ways to interpret Stan and I’m not sure why there’s a reason to be upset if someone doesn’t always write him as “The Asshole” 😭
The show did a lot of work to discredit him early in the show to make his backstory even more tragic and transformative. He’s a tragic character that has a “heart of gold.” Ford literally ends his notes on Stanley as being extremely selfless, the most selfless person he’s ever known. Stan’s selflessness is less obvious, not as overt. If he were any different, he likely would’ve given up on the portal way earlier on. He’s dedicated. Undyingly loyal. And emotional.
It’s not out of character for Stan to act altruistically if he’s put in the right circumstances. Give him a loving community and a family, and he thrives. And some of us like to think of how much different things might’ve gone for him if he had that much earlier in life.
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fandomnerd9602 · 2 days ago
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Little Pack Christmas
Wolf!Natasha x Reader
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You and your wolf hybrid mate Natasha Romanoff were adjusting quite well to being parents to young five year old twins Wanda and Pietro Maximoff. The twins loved you both so much. They could barely stand to be apart from you. Even when you got them enrolled in a little school close by, they needed you both there to pick up and drop them off.
With the winter months approaching fast, you and Natasha had to move full time into your apartment. The guest room was already set up for the twins while Natasha moved comfortably into your room.
It was fantastic having everyone under one roof. And with the passage of time, you and Natasha realized that your first Christmas as a family was coming up.
“What are we gonna do?” Natasha found herself pacing the grounds of your apartment, “it’s our first real Christmas with them!”
“Baby they just need to know how much we love them.” You try to ease your mate’s nerves, “all that matters is that we’re all together. We’re a family now. And family is forever”
“Family” Natasha whispers, a little tear making its way down her cheek, “we have a family.” A little giggle escapes your wolf girl’s lips.
“We have a family” you let out a happy little chuckle
Wanda started showing interest in magical creatures and plushies. Pietro was showing all the makings of a young athlete. Honestly you were happy to see them thrive.
As it drew closer to Christmas. You and Natasha began decorating the apartment. The twins were more than eager to help with set up. You and Natasha would put the tree up, the twins worked on the ornaments.
In the evenings, you would watch old Christmas specials together. Pietro would cuddle into Natasha’s side while little Wanda loved staying cuddled between you and Natasha.
Finally Christmas Day had arrived. And with it, the children were the first up. The little deer hybrids ran into your bedroom, their little deer tails wiggling with anticipation.
“It’s Christmas! It’s Christmas!!!” Little doe Wanda exclaimed as she jumped on you.
Little Pietro took to jumping on Natasha, eager as ever, “wake up! Wake up!!”
Natasha let out a little wolf growl; despite loving the fact that she was a mother now, she still had to get use to how rambunctious kids can be.
“Give Momma and Poppa a couple minutes to wake up, detkas,” you explained before shuttling them out of your room.
Natasha sat up, her reddish hair and wolf tail being an absolute case of bed head. She turned to you with a little hum in her voice.
“Merry Christmas, my hunter” she whispered.
You tenderly took her face in your hands and kissed her, “merry Christmas my honey wolf”
Natasha giggled and took your face in her hands. The two of you sharing little kisses for a minute or so. Even though your eyes were closed, you could hear Natasha’s tail swishing happily against the bedsheets.
The two of you made your way to the living room and put on a Christmas music playlist.
You pulled out two presents for Wanda and Pietro, in truth you weren’t able to buy much due to the sanctuary being a charity that’s still trying to find its footing. But still the children’s eyes gleamed as you presented them with their gifts.
Pietro tore thru his present with glee and found a pair of new track shoes. He had really gotten into running lately.
“Track shoes!!!” The little buck shouted happily, “thank you Momma, Poppa!!”
Wanda tore delicately through her presents to find a little stuffed Niffler from the Fantastic Beasts movies. She had been slowly finding herself a fan of the Wizarding World Series.
“Niffler!!” The little doe exclaimed as she held it to her chest, “I won’t let you out of my sight, mister! Thanks Momma and Poppa”
Natasha smiled, seeing her children so excited for their presents. You slide a small box into your wolf girl’s lap.
“And this is from Poppa to Momma” you said with a little wink.
Natasha opened her gift to find a little pendant necklace with a little see through orb as its centerpiece.
“My hunter,” she whispers, “it’s amazing.”
“Look through the centerpiece,” you instructed her.
Natasha held up the centerpiece to her eye and saw the moon in its particular pathway. “It’s the moon,” she responded.
“Correction. It’s how the moon looked on the day you and I first met all those years ago.” You replied with a smile.
“Oh baby” Natasha teared up before launching herself into your arms, her tail wagging back and forth excitedly.
You kissed her wolf ears while rubbing her lower back. Your children dog piled onto you too. You couldn’t help but chuckle at your predicament. You were being love bombed by your whole family.
Your family. You wouldn’t trade any moment of this for the world.
A merry Christmas indeed.
Tags @lifespectator @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @ma1egamer @julieromanoff @texaswolf23 @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @russianredassassin @revanshand @iiconicsfan25 @idkwhatever580 @moonlit-imagines @moonlit-ficrecs @moonpheus @multi-fandom-enjoyer
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libellule-ao3 · 2 days ago
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Chapter 4 : The Bloom & the Thorn
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NSFW - 🔞 | ⚠️ Various physical, psychological & emotional abuse | Ominis Gaunt x OFC - #Evinis | Currently 30 700 words
Tags: angst & hurt/comfort, strangers to lovers, developing relationship, smut, dark themes, introspection, trauma, Dark Arts, violence, POV Alternating etc.
Summary:
Ominis Gaunt, the pure-blood wizard, struggles to thrive in the stifling shadow of his family manor. A prisoner of a heritage he rejects. Evelyne Lavandin, on the other hand, is a precocious Muggle-born witch who has been uprooted since people greedy for power and money tore her away from her family. Two characters and two solitudes separated by everything. And yet, who still believes that encounters are the fruit of chance?
Credit: The stunning cover of this story was created by the talented @/Tamayula-hl 🙏 🫶 [Link to her publication] I love it so much, I’d put it on every post about this fic just for the pleasure of seeing it on my blog!✨️💕
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Snippet:
“You think your consent changes anything?” His voice trembles, rough and strangled. “You imagine agreeing to this will erase the rest? That your screams won’t carve into me?”
“We will use a silencing charm!”
The words tumble out, clumsy and desperate, like a blunt weapon trying to smash through his objections.
This time, he explodes. In a brutal motion, his forearm slams into the pillar beside her face, his body caging her in an oppressive space. The impact reverberates near her ears, and she gasps, her heart racing.
“For Merlin’s sake, Evelyne, stop!!!”
Ominis's erratic breath brushes against her face, and she inhales despite herself, his cologne subtle, yet deeply masculine. In the intermittent scarlet light of his wand, his face seems sculpted by raging despair, his features taut as if he is struggling to control it. His proximity has a suffocating, almost terrifying effect. Her back presses instinctively against the pillar, seeking a distance that no longer exists.
“I will never again inflict such pain on anyone. Never again! Do you understand?”
His voice quivers, teetering between rage and misery, almost breaking. Evelyne, stunned by his words and his posture, opens her mouth to reply, but nothing comes. She swallows hard.
“Y-yes, but... if our lives depended on it? You would do it, right?”
Ominis lowers his head slightly, angling toward her voice or breath, his blind gaze boring into hers. They’re so close that anyone watching might think they’re about to kiss. An absurd thought, given his tortured expression.
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1920sladydectective · 3 hours ago
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Best Friend's Mother Ch.6 (Finale) 6.8K MDNI 18+
Here she bloody is, my darlings!
All done, finally, giving me room to write even more Ambessa stuff. Next stop Professor Medarda!
That being said, I've loved writing this story and feel so honoured by the reception it has received. Thank you especially to @shinyshayminflower for the initial prompt, @uselessbard1031 for the endless support and @chocolate-quotes for the stunning cover art which I adoreddddddddddd.
Love you all, let me know what you think!
Warnings: Degradation, Name Calling, Overstimulation kinda? Lots of alcohol idk I'm British and this is set at Christmas okay.
Chapter 6:
You’d failed at the first hurdle, the first second, the truest and largest fuck up possible of a New Year’s resolution. Bubbles fizzed in your blood, common sense popping like a thousand little sparks. 
She tasted good, like whisky and regret and those tiny chocolate puddings on the trays at the party. The party you couldn’t quite remember or reconcile, the party that faded to blurring noise as she consumed you. 
Ambessa’s mind was screaming at her. This was not how she’d intended the evening to go. Rather the opposite. She was going to kiss one of Cassandra’s uptight friends, unwind them a bit and then take her drunken gaggle of children home. 
Instead she’d been ripped to shreds by her daughter and was now eating the very forbidden (but no longer?) fruit she had tried to avoid. 
You pulled away merely to breathe, but it was enough, like a shock of cold water. Tears, hot and angry sprung into your eyes almost immediately. 
“What was that?” You snarled, gulping in air. 
“I-“ Ambessa coughed slightly, “A mistake,” 
You scoffed, shoving her, “You can say that again,” 
“No,” She backtracked, muddled, “I just meant-“ 
“Do me a favour and fuck off, okay?” You wiped your mouth viciously with your sleeve, panic heavy in your heart as you rushed past her without another word. Drunk and distressed, you made your way into a random corner and stayed there. 
You’d tell Mel in the morning, you told yourself with trembling hands, but right now it would be too much. 
Ambessa was having the most tiring evening ever. Nothing was happening in the right order, as if she’d been given the smaller part of every wishbone in existence.Her mouth was a villain, intent on ruining everything. Glancing in the reflection of one of Cassandra’s crystalline statutes, she saw her massacred face, red smudges everywhere. 
“Well,” Cassandra Kiramman’s smug voice rang out, “That was a damn sight better than seeing you kiss my child like last year,” 
Muscled shoulders seized, wide golden eyes meeting cool grey ones, “Lovely party,”
“I think that’s the first time in twenty years you’ve said that,” She snorted, “I needn’t lecture you about how stupid that was, we both remember what happened with Maddie,”
“She isn’t Maddie,”
“Evidently,” A click of teeth, an outstretched hand holding cloth “I’ll see you on the 14th, I can take your money and your secrets then,” 
Ambessa sighed, wiping her face of lipstick and taking a regrouping breath. There was little to do but sober up and figure out a battle plan. Divide her stupidity and hopefully conquer her love. Or some other battle analogy she was too pissed to think of. “Thank you,”
“There’s no need for that,” She smiled, rolling her eyes at her friend, “You’re hosting the women’s luncheon in February,” 
Fuck.
You were sitting in a fancy taxi, a snoozing Mel on your shoulder as Kino rambled about the artwork in Caitlyn’s house. You didn’t care about the fact that the frames were worth as much as the art, or that some of them had taken years to find. You didn’t care about anything at all really, save the brooding woman in front of you. She seemed so cold, so distant, and you found that it did not suit her. You’d never be rid of her, that understanding had set in as you stumbled out of the car and into the front porch. She was like Japanese knotweed, strong and thriving and made to rot the very foundations of life. Here you were, a three time offender of succumbing to her, despite your morals and your strength and your hatred. 
Deft fingers attempted to grab your wrist as Kino and Mel waltzed arm in arm up the staircase, but her hold found nothing but air. A snap, a growl, something animalistic as you trailed quickly after your friends, the third of the good little wolves and nothing more. 
Sleep was easy due to alcohol, though all it really did was lock you in dreams. Tender kisses and bitter words fighting for the spotlight, leaving your mind a flashing drunken strobe. Sweaty, distressed turning and rolling until dawn beckoned and you lay shivering in the fetal position. No amount of fancy heating systems could rid your bones of the chill, heavy limbs freezing you in place. 
It took several hours and a minor pity party to make it into a different pair of less sweaty pyjamas, another hour to make it downstairs and fifteen seconds for your hopes of sorting this out as soon as possible to be crushed. 
A series of texts from Mel. Mel and Kino had left twenty minutes ago, a sibling breakfast tradition you had been omitted from due to your lack of appearance. Fuck. Just her, somewhere, lurking. 
The kitchen was safe, paprika crisps settling your stomach as you brewed some longjing tea. A plan was formed, tell Mel, pack your shit and stay with your cousin until the housework finished later this week. It was solid, grounding and allowed you to get the fuck out of this weird fantasy land. Nothing felt tangible here, all consequences smashing down as soon as the spell of the upper class echelons was shattered by travelling 20 miles north. You holed yourself up in one of the spare sitting rooms, avoiding where she thought you’d be in favour of unfamiliar cream sofas and animal artwork. 
It wasn’t enough. 
Tentative footsteps, her arrival heralded by Mina, like a slow marching procession. There was no escape. One way in, one way out. The oak door clicked shut softly. You did not, would not, give her the satisfaction of looking up. 
Your name on her lips, measured and calm, as the sofa to your right dipped with her body weight. A loud clunk, your gaze meeting a bottle of artisan Olive Oil. 
“Olive branch?” She muttered, “We were out of breadsticks,” 
You looked at it, still not her, nose twitching. Her charm, though flavoured now with hesitancy, was viscous and wrong as it lapped at your skin. “That implies there’s a conversation to be had here, and there isn’t,”
“Look at me,” Soft but impatient. 
Your eyeline did not move. Her arrogance astounded you.
“I was thinking-”
“No, Mrs Medarda,” You snapped, formality and fury, making the cat jump, “There is nothing you can say, I am going to tell Mel and then I’m going to get away from you, as fast as possible,” 
“A tad dramatic,” Cryptic, passive smile, “Mel knows, darling,” 
“What?” This had you meeting her gaze, “You told her?”
“Not yet,” A sniff, “Not exactly,” 
“Well then she doesn’t fucking know, you twat,” 
Ambessa’s lips upturned slightly, “She doesn’t know the specifics, but she knows my motivations,”
“Motivations?” You scoffed, “Your untameable pride and sex drive you mean?”
Ambessa, despite having spent most of the night replaying every interaction you had ever shared under the rosy haze of infatuation, had yet to find a way to piece together her confession. Part of her wanted to wax lyrical, a modern day poet speaking in nothing but nonsense and flowers. But your impatience, borne of hurt and exhaustion, hung heavy above her. She was the one fearing the guillotine’s blade now, she should have learned from history that the revolution always comes in the end. And here it was, the revolt of her own mutinous heart. 
“Well?” Her silence unsettled you, those carved brows scrunched inwards, as you fought a mounting urge to backhand her. 
“Not quite that,” She muttered, “Wouldn’t have bothered with the olive oil if it was just sex, dear,” 
Your eyes rolled, pushing off of the sofa, body fleeing before your blood curdled in your veins. 
She grabbed your arm, pulling you back down with a thud, “Stop I-” gasped air, “I’m trying to be honest here,”
“You’re speaking like a Dickens novel and I’m supposed to take you seriously? Three Ghosts come and slap you in the face? Or some New Year’s resolution, is it?” You yank your hand back, skin fizzing and yearning for the calloused warmth to return. 
“Yes, actually,” 
“What was your Christmas past like then?”
“Troubled,” She quipped, rolling her eyes at you, “It is a resolution, one I indeed to stick to,”
A laugh, grating against your throat, “Didn’t take you for the type, you don’t seem in a rush to change anything about your life,” 
“Stop being childish and listen,” She snapped. 
“You have two minutes,” You spat, “And then I’m leaving,”
“Two minutes isn’t even enough time to boil an egg,” 
“Ambessa,”
Muscles tensed. Fine. Fucking Hell. “I’ve been bad to you,” There, well done Ambessa, a start. Accountability, the sharp blade you must crush within your palm. 
Tart and hard, an unripe cherry between your teeth, shock bloomed. There was nothing particularly reassuring about her words, but you jumped all the same. 
“I abused your kindness and took advantage of you,” How lovely and romantic, the muted whites of the room shifting to morose greys. 
“Old news, cemented about nine kisses ago,”
“I know that,” It was sharper than she’d intended, a sigh rattling out, “I know,”
“If you know, why are we having this conversation?” You grabbed the olive oil, waving it about, “What kind of weak, spindly branch is this?”
“You’re so pedantic, must you have everything spelled out for you?!” She growled, tenderness foreign on her tongue, “The I’m in love with you kind,” 
A spell, like a muffling blanket of snow, enveloped the room. Such a tender, sweet truth, with all the certainty and promise of the apple of Eden. Was she the snake or Eve, you could hardly tell. You sat, in stasis, as she swallowed. 
FIve minutes. Ten. A brutal, endless fifteen. 
“Don’t be cruel,” Acid burned in your mouth, tears smarting your eyes, “Don’t wave that about,”
Snip. Your words cutting Ambessa’s newly found heartstrings, “I wouldn’t,”
“Wouldn’t you?”
“No,” It was firm.
“And that’s what Mel knows?” You asked, eyes narrow. You didn’t believe her, couldn’t, wouldn’t. Really, really shouldn’t. 
“She insisted upon it, screamed at me in the Kiramman’s bathroom,” 
“Wait,” Awe bubbled between your ribs, “Last night?”
A begrudging nod, that soft half smile that made you melt. She loved your lip twitches of surprise, your mouth turning over words you couldn’t vocalise. 
“Why?”
“She sort of stumbled into it, as did I,” A pause as she pulled a red wine bottle and glasses from seemingly nowhere, “Do you mind?”
“Yes, I do,” You snarked, flicking the cork onto the floor, “But by all means, don’t let that stop you,” 
“I won’t,”
You took the glass she offered all the same, settling into the sofa with renewed confidence, petulant hands spilling drops of burgundy onto the cream sofa. “Stumbled, you said?”
Ambessa crossed her legs, Malbec coating her tongue, “She was..frustrated that I had not distanced myself enough from you,”
“I noticed a distinct difference,”
“That’s what I said,”
“Not taking your side,” You swished your hand for her to continue. 
“She said I was selfish and many other things, another character assassination,” Heavy chug, “But she wanted a reason, a cause,”
“She always does,” Anticipation was building now, possible half truths and sweet words lingering just out of reach, “It’s the only reason she forgave me, because of how I felt,”
Ambessa nodded, eyes distant, “Did you know I find it harder to sleep now?”
What? You were hungover and hair of the expensive vintage dog was not quite cutting it.  Speak plainly you maddening cow, your mind cried. Instead, “Pardon?”
“I miss the weight of you on my chest, and the coldness of your toes on my calves,” She muttered, memory easier than big declarations, “It’s what I thought of when Mel asked me to prove it, to prove it was..” 
Monster. Cannibal. Villain. She was gnawing at your bones, words like ambrosia to all the battered, tired shades of you that sat before her. You missed that too, had mourned it like so many other little, luxurious sweetnesses. 
“That’s still a physical desire,” You rationalised, lips stained with wine. 
A grunt, “Do you need more?”
A nod. Several. Only confirmational overkill would do here. 
“I-” Her hand twitched, “find myself trying to force an affinity for apple tea,”
“You hate it,”
“But it tastes of you,” She said, “Sometimes it’s all I can do to stave off the craving,”
“So you miss my mouth? Physical.” 
Ambessa pouted, heavy hand overpouring another glass, “What do you want from me? I’ve already said it,”
You laughed, in spite of it all, “I want to know what you’re feeling, not what you miss or crave or imagine,”
It seemed to rent her asunder, her feelings etched in memories, stuck far away from words. Love was one, but it was vulnerable and rough against her tongue. It had only come out via happenstance, sleep deprivation and growing panic. Affection hung in the background, and devotion sat like oil on her smooth skin. How was she to wield them? A great axe pulling her into herself, straining underdeveloped muscles. 
“It’s a bit like quicksand,” Her tone was unsteady, “It’s eating me whole,”
“What is?”
 “Love,” She snarled, as if it was obvious, eyes ever so slightly glazed. 
“The more you fight, the more you sink?”
She nodded, a heady relief in your understanding, light at the end of her confusing tunnel, “Exactly that,” 
You downed your glass, “Then I’ll throw you a stick, help you out,” a dismissive sniff, “I hate you,”
“No you don’t,” No hesitation, “You fell before I did, Sweet Girl,” 
“And look where that got me,” 
“But we’re in it together now,”
“There is no together, Ambessa,” You were sinking, she would not be proven right, “Your love is as dangerous as your indifference, wolves do not cradle their prey tenderly,”
“You aren’t prey,” It was a cry, angry and indignant, as her hands found yours. 
“Then why am I covered in your bitemarks?” 
She grumbled, “I think we’ve used the full extent of this metaphor, darling,” 
“Metaphors, jibs, cold truths, however you spin it, you are an emotionally immature mess,”
“Mel called me an emotionally impotent bitch,” She said, interlocking her warm hands with your trembling ones, “You were kinder about it,” 
“I’m always kinder about everything,” You replied, tightening your grip.
“It’s one of the things I love about you,” 
“Stop saying that!” 
“What?” She smiled, something giving way inside her, “Love? That I love you?”
“I-Yes,” You were chest deep now, thick wet sand eating you, “I don’t know what to do with that, with you,” 
Ambessa sat, rhythmically stroking your knuckles, as her head leaned closer to yours, “You let me earn you, my darling,”
Thick sludge, stealing your breath away now, “Earn me?” 
“Will you let me try?” Her voice was molasses now, pushing you down into the very bottom of the pit, her brain finally catching up with her body, “Words fuelled by action?” 
“L-like date me? And woo me?” Your eyes were fluttering, heart a schism of fear and fancy. 
She hummed in confirmation, free hand tucking some of your glitter crusted hair behind your ear, gaze soft. 
“Doesn’t seem very characteristic, Ambessa,” 
“Yes, well,” A humorous sigh, “You’ve clearly made me sick, some kind of spell or curse,”
You smacked her arm, a nonsensical laugh slipping out. She was ridiculous and stupid and images of her sending you flowers or taking you mini golfing came into your mind unbidden. 
“Is that a yes, my darling?”
“What does Mel think?”
“I think you should ask her,” Ambessa’s voice wrapped around you, “Regardless of this, I will not monopolise on your relationship with her,”
“I think you’re suffering from head injury,” She was perfect, she was handing you your dreams on a silver platter, so why couldn’t you take it? “I think I need some time,”
She nodded, ignoring the dark growl in her chest, “There’s no timeline,” Actually, the timeline was she wanted to be between your legs right now, but it seemed the clocks were confused. 
With an odd, robotic stroke to her cheek, you stumbled out of the room and back up the stairs. Ignoring your door, you curled into Mel’s room, allowing yourself to be engulfed by frilly bed sheets. She’d find you later and you could have a chat. 
Find you she did, snoring and pale in her bed, with wine stained lips and tear stained cheeks. Hungover limbs crawled around you, kissing your forehead. 
“Babe!” It was a happy shout, as you flinched awake. 
“That was not the only way to do that,” 
“It’s the way I chose,”
The conversation that transpired was as follows. You bared your snotty, shattered soul and called her mother all the cruel, loving things you could think of and she nodded sagely whilst stroking your hair. She then decided to take her mother’s side, and say that you should definitely pursue a relationship if you loved her, as if it was that simple. You were now battering her shoulder with a candy cane shaped cushion. 
“Hitting me isn’t going to change my answer,”
“It’s not normal to tell your friend to date your mother,” You cried, “The only sane person in this family is Kino,”
“Really?”
A memory of him drizzling a chicken wing with melted chocolate the night before returned, “Christ, okay you’re all nuts!” 
“You still haven’t told me what you want,” Mel murmured, taking the candy cane from your grasp, “Just that she’s evil and you feel weak when she smiles, which honestly urgh,” 
Uncertain, jittering hands tug at a strand of hair, “I don’t think I know,”
Silence, her hand on your shoulder, as you sorted through the bombed out craters in your mind. Each kiss, fight, and confession had made its mark and the rubble was hard to decipher. 
“I think I want to exist a bit, before I commit to anything,” 
“You have been through a lot, babe,” Mel was so gentle, you adored her more than she could ever ever know, “Maybe just be you? Mum’ll wait,”
“Will she?” That was your hope and your fear. 
“She’ll have to if she’s serious, and if she doesn’t then fuck her, you can find another fish, preferably one I’m not related to,” 
“I love you,”
“Damn right,” She kissed your head, “Now can we watch TV or something, my head hurts,”
Three days passed, and she was surprisingly normal. There was no forced affection or ultimatums, just the same smile; considerate and mischievous. You were grateful, the space confirming what you’d said to Mel. You needed to be you, away from the magic and madness of this house, and only then would you really know. 
When you told her as much, firelight flickering in the library on your last evening, she let out a long sigh. The grating, dull pain in her heart intensified, but with it so did her plan.
The last dinner felt stupidly biblical, final and massive, as though you may never return. A veritable feast, overflowing plates and glasses, as even Rictus joined you for the meal. Kino was a jester of epic proportions, breaking more than one glass in his pursuit of a punchline. Ambessa sat, quiet but merry, against the carved mahogany chair of the dining room. Mel, as ever, was the master of pictures. You dreaded the thought of the costs to develop that much film, though you placed bunny ears behind Kino’s head as you grinned into the flash all the same. Rictus, though, was the real diamond in the rough of the evening. Strong and well mannered, with your exact sense of humour. He was quiet and yet seemed to fill every silence that threatened to hurt you. You felt sorry to have overlooked him in a way, leaning a heavy head against his shoulder. 
“I’m going to miss you,”
“Miss my endless free labours?” He joked, a gruff voice above your ear. 
“Miss your sanity,” You said, “Miss your friendship,”
“Well, I’m only ever a phone call away,” He replied, “Us furniture have to stick together,” 
You laughed, bright and true, as he dolloped another mountain of tiramisu onto your plate. 
Slowly, but surely, you all retired to bed, a holiday well spent and a heavy desire to return to normal weighing in the air.
The next morning, as he bundled your endless possessions into Mel’s boot, Rictus called you over. 
“Something the matter?”
“Kid,” A sternness, “You’re going to be alright?”
You snorted, “I told you I’d keep in touch, where’s this come from? Delirious from all of Mel’s handbags and shoes?”
“I love Ambessa Medarda very much,” He said out of nowhere, hand stroking your arm, “Don’t let her wants eclipse yours,”
“What?” What the fuck was he on about? 
“Speak of the devil, and she appears,” He muttered, stepping away without a further word. Bastard. 
Ambessa squeezed Mel with all her might, an acceptance blossoming in a relationship filled with shards of glass and broken promises. “Look after yourself, work hard,”
“Party harder,” Mel muttered, “I know Mum, I’ll see you at Easter,”
She climbed into the preheated Land Rover, just as Rictus wandered back into the Manor with a shout and a wave. Kino had said goodbye over breakfast, nearly breaking a rib, and so it was just her.
The goodbye was stilted, her large hand stroking your hair as she took an audible sniff. It made you giggle wetly, swallowing down the impulse to just collapse into her and let yourself be consumed. You first, her later. That was probably what Rictus had meant, god your brain was slow today.
“Thanks for a lovely Christmas, and everything in between, well most things,” You mumbled, watery smile. 
“You’re more than welcome, Sweet Girl,” 
“I-I’ll be in touch, when I can,” Her hand was warm in yours, keeping you anchored in place. 
“IF you can, Dear,” She corrected, voice caring “I expect you to take this seriously,” 
A scoff, as you nodded and pursed your lips. Everyone was treating you like you were suddenly going to go back on your plan and jump her bones against the front door. It was a valid concern, even you hadn’t decided completely if you would or not.
“See you soon,” She said, a throwaway comment, as you let go and climbed into Mel’s car. 
Several beats. Your heart full and empty, a weird schrodinger’s joke. A fern tree smell from the little car freshener. 
“Well that was agonising to watch,” Mel quipped, shooting her mum a wave and pulling out of the driveway. Manicured nails flicked on a random playlist, 80s rock heavy, as you stared out at the frosty scenery. 
The flowers started a week after you had gotten back to Edinburgh. Always different, always perfectly sized for your light green vase and never overwhelming. It was a constant sign of her presence, without the stifling need to be responded to. There was never a note, beyond her initials, and that made each delivery all the sweeter. Sometimes other things would come with them too, after a long deadline or big presentation, there would be wine or a new book. It was a more considerate type of materialism, reminiscent of sand castle buckets and chiffon dresses, as glimmering parts of your old self emerged from the explosion of Her. 
Winter socials, dancing around the house in pyjamas singing ABBA with Mel as the world began to thaw.
Valentine’s Day arrived, and with it a little bouquet of roses and a takeaway voucher. 
Happy Valentine’s Day, Ambessa x
                               You too, Sweet Girl x
It was your first point of contact, and you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it. She was slowly but surely winning you over from afar, earning you as she’d said and this new, fresh, old version of yourself was happy to let her encroach a bit on No Man’s Land. Plus, this burrito was one of the best things you’d eaten in ages.
Ambessa was smiling widely at her phone, heart a jackhammer. She felt foolish, any acknowledgment sending her into a tailspin, but that soft kiss at the end of a text was enough to solidify her already immense resolve. You were hers, and she was yours, however long she had to wait.
You were granted the funding you needed, your academic success propelling you into spring with tired and happy limbs. Eleven weeks of flowers, a few scattered texts and one slightly drunken nude later, Mel was rambling at the dinner table about Easter plans. 
“Dad’s not back till the last week,” You replied around a very hot mouthful of chicken parm, “Presumed I’d spend the rest of the time with you,”
Mel’s eyes glistened, shit eating grin on her glossed lips, “Did you now?”
“Oh come off it,” You snapped, “Ambessa already offered anyway,” 
“She has? How nice of her,” Excitement fizzed in her, battling with a bit of sadness at losing her friend’s full attention, “And how is that? Calla lilies this week, I noticed,” 
“Why’s that matter?”
“They mean beauty,” 
“They have meanings?” Tomato sauce stained your grey joggers, you didn’t care, “What about the others?” 
She snorted, “You thought they were just random?”
“I-I” A gulp, “Well, fuck I don’t know I just thought they were pretty,” 
Her laughter grated at you, google your true friend in the matter, as you scanned through each message Ambessa had supposedly sent. 
Bluebells first - Humility. Ironic start. 
Honeysuckle - Bonds of Love
Yellow Tulips - Sunshine in a smile - your heart seized. 
Peony - Bashful - not a word you’d really associate with her. 
White Hyacinth - Loveliness - Hers or your own? Both, you decided. Both. 
Edelweiss - Devotion - a dizzy wave of warmth over your skin. 
Red Roses - I Love You - apt for Valentine’s day. 
Chamomile - Patience in adversity. How brave she was, how ridiculous.
Forget-Me-Nots - True Love Memories - Her stained grin, garlic bread in hand came to mind. 
Red Camellias - You’re a flame in my heart - This coincided directly with her receiving a picture of you in a lacy red bra and thong, courtesy of cheap pints in your favourite pub, and an uncharged vibrator. 
Calla Lillies - Beauty. 
Your chicken parm was cold now, your mouth hanging open, as your eyes burned slightly. 
“You back with me, babe?” 
“This is so stupid,” You spluttered into cold marinara sauce, “She’s so stupid,”
“Love makes a fool of us all,” Mel said wisely. 
“Is that why you, Viktor and Jayce were curled up last night? I saw you holding hands,” 
“Be quiet!” She whined, “Die,”
“Don’t throw stones, Mel,” You mocked, “You’re looking awful glassy right now,” 
You would stay for Easter then, you both agreed over chocolate mousse, as you sent a thumbs up to Ambessa’s invitation. 
Ambessa, glasses balancing on her nose as she read a novel, scanned the text. Once. Twice. An exuberant third time. Rictus ended up battered with requests for a clear and ornate Easter menu, despite the fact that the holiday was over six weeks away and not at all favoured by the Medarda family. Mina had taken to nibbling her phone but only ever when you texted, and Ambessa was beginning to take it personally.
Your spring deadlines came and went, as April and its gentle rest bite from academia beckoned. The journey was painfully familiar to you now, as was the warm and rough rock sitting in your stomach. You felt you again, which was terrifying as it finally gave some space for her. Something you had come to want so desperately it made your dreams turbulent and your hands shaky. She still had some work to do, but as you flicked through your sparse text exchanges you couldn’t fight the smitten smile. 
You loved Ambessa Medarda, and that was okay now. For both of you. 
Ambessa had been waiting for three hours by the door like an overexcited dog. Several times Rictus had come to ask her questions or show her things, and each time she was transfixed on the long driveway.
“Mel said they wouldn’t be here before 2,” He said, smirk on his lips. 
“She’s never reliable,” 
“She is literally compulsively on time,” 
“Rictus, do I pay you for these kinds of conversations?”
“No, but you probably should, I was going to bring it up during my next performance review,” 
“Ah yes, 31st of April, wasn’t it?”
He laughed, wandering back towards the tower of hand painted easter eggs he was tending to.
2pm on the dot you pulled up by the house, clambering to stretch your legs. As the door opened Mel ran to it, kissing her Mum’s cheek and shooting past her to get to the toilet. Whether intentional or serendipity, Mel had given you the perfect opening to stare like a lovesick fool at her mother. 
“Ambessa,” Her name a cry of joy.
“Sweet Girl,” She ignored the thickness in her throat, eyes glimmering at seeing your face again. 
“T-Thanks for the flowers,” Unsure hands, “And the messages they sent,”
She smiled, stepping forward and squeezing your arm. “Always, as long as you enjoy them,” 
“You’ve been just what I needed,” Affection swelled in your chest, “Present but distant,”
“Like a ghoul?” 
You giggled, “Exactly that,”
“You keep comparing me to spirits and ghosts,”
“I actually compared you to Scrooge, not the ghosts themselves,” 
She rolled her eyes, snorting, “You must always be right, mustn’t you?”
“Ambessa,” You repeated, gentiler now. 
She hummed in question, gaze meeting yours. 
“I think I’m ready to try now,” A sharp inhale, “If you are?”
“Well,” Her crimson lips part into a dazzling smile, “That makes me very ha-”
“Princess!!” Kino, dressed in plaid pyjamas, shouted as he ran to engulf you in a hug, “You’re here!”
“Bastard child,” Ambessa grunted under her breath, watching as you cuddled her son and made faces at her over his shoulder. 
“Later,” You mouthed, before focusing on Kino, “Hello there, Peacock Prince,”
She wandered back inside with a murderous expression, greeted by Mel halfway through a bag of Quavers, “Kino cockblock you?”
“Mel, I fund your lifestyle,” Ambessa snapped, “Do not antagonise me,”
“That’s a yes,” Her crunchy words said, offering her a cheesy grin. 
It took until after dinner that evening for you to get a moment alone together again, your spot in the library occupied as you stared across at her. Kino was out with another lady friend and Mel had common sense, so the air that crackled around you would not be interrupted. It was a good thing too, you’d spent the whole time eating your spaghetti trying to make yourself look alluring. Until Mel had pinched you under the table. 
“So,” You started, chest tight. 
“So,” She repeated, stroking Mina, “You said you were ready?”
“Yes,” Your decision was certain now, having spent some time back in her presence. You wanted it all, as soon as you could get it. Seemed you were as damned as she was. The devil on your own shoulder.
“We can take it slowly, Sweet girl,” She said, leaning forward, “There’s no rush,”
Your blood was thick and hot, mind whirling, “What if I want to rush?”
Ambessa grinned, chucking Mina away and with one sharp tug moving you onto her large thighs, “Then I’d say, where would you like to start?”
She was solid and seductive and all the things you’d avoided in your time finding yourself. She was as sticky and tempting as always, though her love tempered the fire now. Things were never done by half, and you’d fooled yourself when you planned to build a relationship step by step. Ambessa had laid the foundations, floral and firm, so now you wanted to chuck brick and cement together as fast as you could. 
“This maybe?” You half slurred in anticipation, hungry lips meeting hers. 
Ambessa was, for once, incredibly surprised. You were devouring her, with no restraint, as if no time had passed at all. But you were different now, she could sense it. Stronger, more certain of your place, your needs and wishes. It suited you, like an attractive new coat. Her hands were roaming about, searching for the best place to land, each patch of skin more perfect than the last. 
“Are you sure?” She murmured against smudged lips, holding your chin in place to stop your desperate advance, “I don’t want to push you away again,”
You melted, kissing her palm, “You won’t,” it was breathless, “I promise,”
“I’ll only do this if I get to take you out tomorrow, a nice long day together,” Her honeyed voice muttered, though one hand was already making its way under your shirt. 
“So a win-win?” 
Calloused fingers grazed your nipple, kissing your neck as she nodded into it. 
“Not sure I could ask for a better Easter,” You joked breathlessly, body twitching into her touch. 
“That’s why you’re not going to ask for it,” Her voice was dark, a switch flipped, “You’re going to beg,” 
Welcome back Ambessa Medarda, you’ve been sorely missed. I hope you fuck my brains out now. “Please?” You quipped. 
A sharp pinch to your nipple, a low growl, “Do you think I’m joking, girl?”
You ached for her, mind fracturing, as an earnest apology ripped from your throat. Your pleading was real now, her wet kisses maddening. 
Ambessa felt hungry, ravenous in fact, and you had offered yourself like a perfect little dessert. How kind. How naive. It took her a few minutes of pawing at you for all of your clothes to be left on the floor, goosebumps prickling your skin as you rubbed yourself against her thigh. This was perfection, your thoughts slush as she whispered filth in your ear. 
“More,” You whined, the pull on your chest not harsh enough. 
She twisted until it burnt, making you jolt, as her wet tongue soothed the ache, “That enough pain for you? So desperate for it,” 
“I-I”
“Is that why you sent me those filthy pictures?” Her thumb, slick with you, danced in circles across your clit, “Wanting to show yourself off, hmm? A slut in red lace?”
“Ambessa,” You gasped. 
“You wanted to drive me mad,” A suck to a sore nipple, “Wanted to corrupt me, after I tried so hard to stay away,” 
“It was an accident,” You slurred, stomach tensing as you thrust in rhythm with her touching. 
“An accident?” She scoffed, nuzzling against your throat, “That’s what you call spreading yourself for me on camera?” 
You were so close, her words like gasoline as you whimpered a confused apology, your mind desperate to keep feeling good. 
“Is this an accident too, Sweet girl?”
“Wha-” Your eyes rolled, cunt gushing as your first orgasm slammed into you like a sledgehammer. 
She slipped you off her lap, sliding out from under you to the ground, as your bare skin touched the cool red leather chair. She knelt, a devious grin on her lips, between your trembling legs as she watched a soft slickness drip down your thighs.
“You’ve made a mess,” She said, disapproving pout on her face, “Say you’re sorry,”
“S-sorry, Ambessa,” You mumbled, eyes glassy. 
“Good girl,” She stroked your thighs, a tight grip on them, tiny crescent moons from her nails, “It’s okay, I’m here to tidy you up,”
She had always been skilled, playing you like an instrument, but as her hot tongue hit your folds you found yourself blank, empty and unsure if you would ever feel anything other than raw, molten pleasure again. Teasing kitten licks lapped up your juices, her golden eyes controlling your every move, as you went limp against the chair. It smelt of her. Everything in this room did. Your body twitched again. 
Her tongue drew another two orgasms from your needy body, sweaty hair sticking to your forehead as you tugged at her salt and pepper curls. 
At some point you ended up flat on the floor against her fancy Persian rug, legs spread as she sat on your face. She was soaked, your cheeks wet as you ate mindlessly. Her orgasms were like nectar as she came apart above you, stern voice turning airy and dazed.
“Just like t-that,” She panted, fucking herself on your tongue.
Your hummed agreement hit her swollen clit, her tongue lolling out her mouth as an animalistic grunt filled the room. 
You were in a bed now. How had that happened? 
“Still with me, little one?” She teased, stroking your hair as she loomed above with a long, hard strap-on. 
“That looks nice,” You babbled, chest rapidly rising and falling. 
“Would you like it?”
A nod. 
“Ask nicely then, Sweet girl,” 
“Pleasepleaseplease,” You said, sweet as sugar, spreading yourself just as you had in those pictures. 
Ambessa Medara was a strong woman. It was her defining feature in fact. Iron will and firm muscle, she prided herself on being a fortress. Here, however, with a whimpering slut beneath her, her resolve shattered like china against marble. You were stuffed before she’d processed the last plea, a surprised gurgle as she worked to destroy you. 
Again, and again and again. She fucked that sweet spot in you with relentless efficiency, as cool leather rubbed against your clit in time with her thrusts. You’d long since given up on the idea of being quiet, mewling gasps and shouts of her name leaving you hoarse with fluttering eyes.
“Cum for me,” It was a sudden command, voice harsh and high, as she fell apart with a vicious thrust. 
You obeyed, the coil in you snapping again, as her sweat covered skin collided with yours. 
You stayed like that, hearts beating in time, as lust faded to contentment and exhaustion. Her slurred praise soothed your battered body as a cold flannel wiped away the stickiness that lingered everywhere. 
There was little else to be said that night, words of love and happiness pouring from you both under your shared silken sheets. 
She loved you. 
You loved her. 
How perfect. 
Slightly lopsided, with a turtleneck to hide the smattering of bruises across your skin, you made your way to the breakfast table. You’d agreed with Ambessa to tell Kino this morning before your date, the only thing still truly weighing on her out of the way in order for you to have the perfect day together. 
He was currently assembling a tower of waffles and bacon, as Mel systematically pushed it over. Rictus stood making more construction materials at the hob, sharing a grin with Mel. 
Ambessa, seeing you enter, coughed loudly to silence the squabbling. 
You wandered over nervously, resting beside her. 
“I’d just like to make everyone aware of something,” She started slowly. 
“Someone dead?” Kino muttered, staring at you. 
“No,” She held her hand up to silence him, “Nobody’s died,”
“Someone pregnant?” Mel asked. The shit stirrer. 
“No I-” Ambessa glared at her, taking a deep breath her hand gravitated towards your shoulder,“I wanted to let you know that we've decided to pursue a romantic relationship,”
“Oh,” Kino’s body tensed, “And when did you make this choice?”
“Last night,” You replied hesitantly, “Why?”
“Fuck,” He groaned to himself, a gruff laugh heard from the hob. 
“I do believe we said one thousand even,” Rictus mocked, flipping a waffle onto the boy’s plate. 
“You couldn’t have waited another twelve hours,” He grumbled, fishing for his wallet in his coat. 
“What is happening right now?” Ambessa said, voice stern. 
“I bet yesterday,” Rictus said as if it were obvious, “Wolf pup here bet today, thought you’d need a little time to warm up, silly boy,”
“You’ve been betting on our relationship?!” You cried, eyes wide as saucers. 
“I wanted to feel included somehow,” Kino whined, “Everyone was taking me out for breakfast to shut me up,” 
Your gaze turned to Mel, who held her hands up, “I knew nothing about this babe, I swear,” 
Liar. Her grin gave her away. 
Ambessa took the wad of cash from Kino’s hands before Rictus could, taking two hundred pounds from the pile, giving you a hundred and keeping the rest for herself, “Our commission,” Her voice was tiny daggers, “For entertaining you all so thoroughly,” 
Both men grumbled, though the sparkle in their eyes told them it was never really about the money, the satisfaction coming from destroying the other's pride. 
A pause, as she turned directly to her son, “You’re taking this very well, Kino, despite your usual nonsense, I am sorry for keeping you in the dark,” 
“About as dark and subtle as a bat signal, Mum,” He laughed, “I knew you’d tell me when it worked for you.
“Yes, well, thank you anyway,” Her voice was laced with sarcasm, as she kicked down his tower this time. 
The loud, nonsensical rumble of infighting filled the kitchen as her hand found yours, a tight squeeze making you smile. 
No more secrets. No more sadness. 
You were finally officially a Medarda.
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First, let me say that Bird is phenomenal. Exceptionally kind and professional, she made this art something that I will treasure (and that my players) will treasure for years to come. I have spoken to my partner and we want to get a framed print of this for our home. This exquisite piece captures the essence of the Blood Countess campaign - dark, with threads of amber warmth and striking beauty. It's perfect. I have had so much trouble expressing to Bird how perfect it is, in part because the holiday season is upon us and I have been pulled in a thousand directions and in part because there is nothing more to say than this is perfection. Bird, thank you for your hard work, artistic vision, and warmth throughout this process. I imagine it was no small feat to create this. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Top Right: Sister Theodora "Theo" Abotchers Petrovna is one of the Abbot's many, nearly identical "children", but she was imbued with the spark of a soul upon her creation... and a strange, strengthening connection to the Morning Lord. Theo fled the Abbey of St. Markovia after two years and was adopted in the town of Vallaki by Father Lucian Petrovich. She thrived there, but when her father sent her on a mission to the village of Barovia, she underwent a trial by fire. Theo had once thought her only purposes were to serve the Morning Lord and marry the Countess, but now she knows there is more out there and her eager, curious nature wishes to pursue it. (Celestial Warlock)
Bottom Right: Ismark and Ireena Kolyanovich have lost everything except each other in the last year. Their home, their village, their childhood dreams... But they remain strong and kind in a world that is almost unfailingly cruel, if only to keep the other one's belief in something better alive.
Bottom Left: Tam Mantiegri is a simple hunter and a Vallaki native, who would swear there was nothing all that special about him. However, Tam has always been a little more alive than his neighbors and he's had a longer memory than most. His soul is old and twined with the history of the valley. He recently learned that he is the reincarnation of Sergei von Zarovich, fallen prince of Barovia, son of the Lady of Shadows, and brother to Countess Strahd von Zarovich. Tam has strange dreams of a life as Sergei and of countless deaths at his "sister's" hand. Upon Theo's return to Vallaki, he met her strange new friends, including the Kolyanoviches and despite his better judgment, he agreed to help them out. Now, he and Ireena Kolyana share a bond they couldn't sever if they tried and their fate is inextricably linked to that of Strahd's and the whole valley. (Monster Slayer Ranger)
Center: Alistor Gwilym is a soldier, not a priest. He has always known war, always known how to fight, and can scarcely recall a time before his life was marred by loss. As a child, Alistor and his twin brother, Godfrey, were raised by their grandfather, Lord Argynvost after their father's mysterious disappearance and the isolation of Barovia. However, as a teenager, Alistor escaped the Mists and has only just returned. Four hundred years have passed and everyone and everything Alistor loved and knew is dead or forever changed. (Grave Domain Cleric)
Top Left: The Countess Strahd von Zarovich is cursed to relive the greatest failures of her life. This time will be different, she is certain. This time, her brother's spirit, her lover's champion, and her youngest son have banded together to protect Ireena Kolyana, the reincarnation of the woman that she loved. This time will be different as they quest to bring light back to Barovia and end Strahd's reign one way or another.
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Let's take a break from one horrible man (Douglas) and talk about another horrible man (Strahd), this time - the female version of him. SheStrahd campaign poster for @curseofthebloodcountess's and @troubledtimeinravenloft's campaign, starring Her Grace herself, three party members, and Kolyan siblings. Boi, this one almost cost me my sanity.
More info about commissions here, more details in close-ups under the cut
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You can only guess how long it took us to set up the whole flower thing.
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transblossoms · 2 days ago
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Trans Celebrities Who Inspire Me
Laverne Cox – She’s everything. Breaking barriers, owning her space, and always advocating for trans rights. She’s my ultimate role model.
Hunter Schafer – Her style, her activism, her acting. Hunter just gets it, and I love how she’s unapologetically herself.
Indya Moore – Such a powerful voice in the trans community. Their work on and off-screen really shows how important representation is.
These celebs remind me that we can be who we are, loud and proud, and still thrive🌟
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qu0rky · 2 days ago
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Jumping off my balcony isn’t enough i need to shoot myself in the head.
Stolas finally getting his meds, expected conflict with Via but she was surprisingly the one to save him (she loves her dad so much i do not CARE), STOLITZ KISSING!!!!! Super fluffy and domestic Stolitz both at the beginning and the end, the slow dancing killed me. Loona has already made peace with the fact that she has 2 dads now. Blitz picturing his perfect family with Via and Stolas :((((((((( MILLIE IS FUCKING PREGNANT?????? Via singing FINALLY. Did not know Stolas could throw punches he was absolutely having a meltdown😭😭 Note to self: do not make that man angry. Gay dads. Stolas crying always makes me want to die. Blitz has never been this soft with ANY PARTNER HE LOVES HIM FRFR AAAAAAA. The cuddling the shopping spree the horses i loved it all. What a fucking way to end the season, couldn’t have gone better with the way shit was.
I.M.P can now afford to say no to customers. How proud i am that their self-made business is thriving. AND YAAAAS STOLAS SECRETARY we all saw that coming he loves paperwork.
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murfpersonalblog · 2 days ago
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My 2 Cents on the WWDITS Finale - 9/10
I LOVE WWDITS, but ngl I didn't care much for Season 6. I barely laughed, and found most of the eps depressing. I was hoping for more overarching plot threads, and felt disappointed & my expectations were too high. I loved S5, but I think the "plot" ended there, and S6 felt all over the place--which I guess was the point. As such, I LOVED the finale, cuz of this right here:
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Jerry's introduction and the 1950s footage cemented that these silly vampires are perfectly fine doing the same thing they've always done for all eternity.
On the one hand, they are stuck in their ways, from their outdated clothes to their accents to their hobbies--even Colin Robinson, the most modern one of them all, is trapped in a perpetual 100-yr loop and never remembers anything that happened in his past lives (unless he checks the archives he's hermetically sealed in his basement vault).
However, the bit about them having learned nothing at all was a red herring. Cuz ALL of these vamps actually HAVE grown & learned a great deal.
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Laszlin's Monster--a creature with real emotions & a heart/soul, who is WELCOME in their family--is right there watching footage of Laszlo's previous failed attempts to create life from death. Laszlo AND Nadja are visibly cringing at how disastrous Laszlo's experiments used to be. But S4-S6 gave us the beautiful Laszlo-Colin partnership. Laszlin's Monster says "I LOVE BOTH MY FATHERS, NOW KISS."
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Laszlo had been doing everything by himself and failed--it was only once he got off his high horse and finally accepted help from Colin (the person he'd once looked down, then had to RAISE as his father in S4) that he finally achieved a scientific miracle. Laszlo & Colin have been my fave characters this entire series, and it paid off BIG TIME.
Nadja's arc was more of her coming full circle as the only sensible vampire in the room, with very simple yet perfectly effective solutions for all the knots they (AND we the viewers) tangle ourselves in:
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She does the exact same quick problem-solving in the pilot--which the finale's end credits even show the vamps watching old footage of--when Nandor's blabbing about hygiene, and Nadja's bored out of her skull (cuz she knows they can just label their corpses with Sharpies):
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And ofc the "perfect" solution leads to the elephant in the room: Nandermo.
IMO Guillermo was most interesting as a vampire slayer. His character arc bored/irritated me the most whenever he DID get overly ambitious--trying to lead the Vampiric Council through manipulating Nandor in S3; and working at Canon Capital in S6. I was happy to see him & his cousin team up to save the vamps in 6x9, cuz that's literally what Memo's best at, cuz he IS a killer--of vamps. I actually WANTED a whole season with Nandermo cosplaying as Batman & Robin--it's so effing adorable!
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Memo THINKS he wants bigger & better things, and maybe he would've thrived as a full time analyst at Canon Capital--but is that what he REALLY wanted? Ofc not! He's gleeful like a little kid at Xmas when Nandor lets him finally sit in his coffin.
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Cuz even though Memo's matured & grown enough to realize that BEING a vampire literally sucks, he still loves the ALLURE of vampires. He's THRILLED to finally be allowed to sit with Nandor in his coffin, and is IMPRESSED/AMAZED that there really is an underground lair. He's STILL that kid from the pilot in love with being Antonio Banderas' Armand from Interview with the Vampire!
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Nandor has always been the Marius to Guillermo's Armand. The promise of adventure & excitement is still there in the end. The finale's a whole NEW beginning for Nandermo, and Memo's happy as a clam to follow Nandor's lead on a new series of hijinks in the secret lair. Like he tells Nandor: "You'll ALWAYS be 'Master' to me."
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IMO, the one who's MOST stuck on his ways & never changing is Memo. Season after season he leaves & comes back; even in the finale he fakes like he'll never see Nandor again just to give the film crew good "closure" footage. So I reckon he's gonna grow old in that house, cuz he can't ever bring himself to leave for long--he needs them as much as they need him, codependency at its finest. Memo'll probably end up just like Benjy, Nandor's elderly S2 Familiar that Nandor made a vamp in his old decrepit age.
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(WWDITS thinks they're SO SLICK with the Benjy-Benji reference!)
It won't be cuz Memo wants to be a vamp, but cuz he's old AF and afraid of dying & leaving the vamps behind to go on without him. Nothing from this season/finale gives me confidence that Memo will actually move on, but I don't think that has to be a bad thing, if moving on is NOT what will make Memo AND Nandor happiest--which is obvs from how sad Nandor was at the prospect of them NOT working together as Batman & Robin.
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Nandermo love & need each other, the finale confirmed it, and I'm satisfied.
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dewdropdinosaur · 3 days ago
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Smutmas Day 10 - Ghost of Christmas
Vox x Reader Summary: It's Y/N and Vox's first anniversary and Y/N decides to get him an expensive gift. Only for Vox to share it, wanting to show his appreciation. Warnings: Making-out, shot-gun kiss with whiskey. PG-15 rating. MDNI, 15+. You're responsible for your own media consumption. Dedicated to @macabr3-barbi3
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Y/N stepped into the dimly lit bar of Vox’s and her luxurious penthouse, heels clicking against the polished black marble floor. The setting was pure Vox: sleek, modern, and dripping with a power display. The towering demon lounged on a pristine leather couch, his sharp, angular features illuminated by the faint blue glow of the myriad screens floating in the air around him.
"You're late," Vox drawled, his glitching voice carrying that signature note of smug superiority. His glowing red eyes flickered, scanning her, as his static-like grin widened. "Not getting cold feet, are we?"
Y/N rolled her eyes, setting down a sleek black gift bag on the glass table in front of him. "Hardly. I was finalizing your surprise. Try to be patient for once."
Vox raised a brow, his static popping lightly with amusement. "Surprise, huh? You're just full of clichés, aren't you, doll?" Still, he leaned forward, his curiosity getting the better of him.
"Open it," she said, crossing her arms as she stood before him. A small smile found its way on her face despite the tense moment just seconds earlier, anticipation fluttering in her chest like a room full of static. 
With a flourish, Vox reached into the bag, his elongated fingers pulling out a bottle of whiskey so rare it practically glowed. The label bore the name of a distillery even he had to admit was known for their craft—and their price tag. The glass bottle shimmered faintly under the room’s ambient light, its intricate design a testament to the exclusivity of the drink.
“Mamon’s Eternity Reserve," Vox murmured, his voice glitching slightly, but the impressed tone was clear. "This stuff’s not just expensive—it’s legendary. Even I couldn’t get my way into finding a bottle of this." He leaned back, clutching the whiskey like a prize, his grin growing impossibly smug. "My, my, Y/N. You really went all out, didn’t you? Guess I mean more to you than you let on."
Y/N scoffed, but there was a slight blush creeping into her cheeks. "It's our first anniversary. I thought you’d appreciate something that matches your... extravagant tastes."
Vox tilted his head, inspecting the bottle again before fixing his gaze on her. "Extravagant tastes, huh? Don’t sell yourself short, doll. You’re the one spoiling me here." He placed the bottle down gently, standing up and towering over her. "You know, you could’ve just written me a cheesy card or something. This…" He gestured to the whiskey. "This is overkill."
"Don’t act like you don’t love it," she teased, raising a brow.
"Oh, I do," Vox said, his grin sharp and his tone almost teasingly patronizing. "It’s adorable how much you want to impress me."
Y/N rolled her eyes, but her smirk betrayed her. "Don’t flatter yourself too much, glitch boy."
But as Vox chuckled, his confident demeanor flickered for just a moment—like the static he embodied. Because as much as he relished her efforts to win his favor, it wasn’t the whiskey or her extravagance that mattered most. She mattered most.
That was the part Vox would never say out loud, though. Vulnerability wasn’t his thing, not when his entire existence thrived on control, dominance, and confidence. Yet, there was something about Y/N—the way she saw through all his bravado, the way she challenged him without fear—that cracked through his carefully curated image.
“Pour us a drink, then," Vox said, his glitching voice as smooth as ever. "Let’s see if it tastes as good as it looks. Though I’m sure it’s not as intoxicating as you, doll."
"Charming," Y/N quipped, grabbing two glasses from the nearby shelf and ignoring the way her cheeks heated at his comment. She poured the golden liquid, its rich aroma filling the space between them.
They clinked glasses, his sharp claws tapping against her glass gently, the sound like a note of harmony between their contrasting worlds.
“To one year of putting up with your arrogance,” Y/N said, her voice laced with mock irritation.
“And to you,” Vox replied smoothly, his grin softer than usual, his gaze lingering on hers for a fraction longer than she expected. 
As they sipped the rare whiskey, Vox allowed himself one indulgence: a quiet, genuine moment of appreciating her. Because for all his swagger and superiority, Y/N was the one thing in his life he’d never take for granted. Especially not tonight. Looking so delictable before him, he could almost forget about the whiskey. Dark elegance coated her body in a swath of warmth and expensive fabric, though it did little to cloud the radiance she exuded. A perfection that even his ego could admit he didn’t deserve in his corner of Hell. 
“Dollface, come here a second,” Vox spoke softly, though obviously in command. Patting his leg gently in invitation.
Nodding obediently, Y/N placed down her glass and trotted over to her boyfriend, plopping down on his knee with a smile. Her hands came to rest on his chest, supporting herself but truly it was an excuse to feel his strong pecs. Taking a swig of liquid couragel Vox’s hand curled itself around the base of her neck, nimble fingers brushing her hair. Leaning in close, he pulled Y/N to meet him in the middle, locking their lips in a passionate kiss. 
Mildly surprised at the sudden action, Y/N wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and deepened the kiss. Swiping his tongue across her lips in a plea for access, it was granted, much to the surprise of Y/N who felt the familiar warmth of whiskey flooding into her mouth from his. Vox’s eyes peek open just for a moment, mesmerized as Y/N greedily drank it all; pulling away after nipping his lower lip. 
Her lips began to trail lower, grazing over his skin in trailing hot, wet kisses along the sensitive flesh. Y/N could feel his heartbeat pick up, the pulse point in his neck slightly bulging…along with something else at her continued affection. Sucking softly near the edge of his collarbone, tongue lapping over a now-forming bruise, Y/N pulled back and whispered huskily. 
“Next time you wanna share V, all you have to do is ask.” 
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thebessthingathisparty · 14 hours ago
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With A Little Help From My Friends ⋆⁺₊❅.
Y/N L/N ° ᡣ𐭩 . ♬♪ ° .
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⋆⁺₊❅. ⋆⁺₊❅. ⋆⁺₊❅. ⋆⁺₊❅. ⋆⁺₊❅. ⋆⁺₊❅. ⋆⁺₊❅.⋆⁺₊❅.
Formula 1 college hockey team social media AU!
She is only in her second year and she seems to have her shit together (literally, she might have a perfect life). With a major in Media Production, Y/N L/N lives her life in the sound booth, whether she is writing songs, producing new beats, or thinking of music video ideas (don't expect to hear for her for hours, record so far: 13). Thriving in a busy lifestyle, Y/N also minors in Digital Media (you try having a class with Lando, its harder then you think). She often lends her skills to the Silver Blades team by helping shoot promotion shots and PR (again, much harder than it looks). But she always claims it is worth it cause she gets to see Oscar, cause, of course, the perfect energetic music girl is dating the perfect, nonchalant, chill guy (highschool sweethearts actually; well besides that one break, we don't bring it up). Sharing an apartment with Alexandra and Lily, Y/N finds her time split perfectly between mornings shooting film and experimenting in the booth, daytime hangouts and study dates with her osc, and wine nights with her girls, and she loves everything about it.
♫ - Playlist ✩ - Instagram ꩜ - Twitter (X)
⋆⁺₊❅. ⋆⁺₊❅. ⋆⁺₊❅. ⋆⁺₊❅. ⋆⁺₊❅. ⋆⁺₊❅. ⋆⁺₊❅.⋆⁺₊❅.
♫ - ...
✩ - ...
꩜ - yourname
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peppermintmagicianlynn · 2 days ago
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TimBer Week 2024: First Sleepover
TimBer Week 2024 Day #7: First Sleeepover
Last one of the week. We made it!
It was amazing how casually it had come about.
They’d been dating for six months, officially boyfriends for only a few weeks. And yet…it felt like they’d been together for years. Bernard came by almost every day, they shared meals and swapped clothes, then bickered over whose turn it was to do laundry. It felt like they were sharing the boat as a home together and that filled Tim with delight that he couldn't fully express.
But the one thing they had yet to do was spend a night together.
N-not like that! Just…you know, sleeping in the same space. They’d done that a lot in high school, when they’d stay up late playing video games or watching movies, then crash at one person’s house. They’d make pallets across the floor or just collapse on top of someone’s bed, where parents would drape them in individual blankets.
It wasn’t a new thing… but this was a new thing!
One bed. One blanket. A pre-planned slumber party.
Granted, it had come about for a very non-romantic reason.
--
“Fumigate?!”
Bernard winced at his boyfriend’s outraged exclamation, setting the phone aside while he struggled to fold his clothes into his duffel bag.
“Yeah, some idiot called the health inspector on one of the neighbors. I don’t know what they found, but they gave us all an hour to pack up and get out. They said it won’t be safe to come back until tomorrow.”
“And where exactly do they expect you to go until then?”
Bernard wished they were on video chat so Tim could see his deadpan look. “Tim, babe, this is a low-income district. They don’t care if I sleep on the street as long as I don’t come back until they give the go-ahead.”
Tim squawked over the line while Bernd packed some underwear. “I’ll just sleep at a friend’s house. It’s fine. Jared has a pull-out couch and as long as Toby didn’t get kicked out of his girlfriend’s place again, I can just-”
“Stay here.”
“Huh?”
“Here. At the boat. With me.”
“Uh, are you sure about that?”
“Am I- Bear! You just told me you’re going to be homeless for a night. Why wouldn’t I want you to be here with me?”
“Well, when you put it like that, sure. I have a work shift for the next few hours, but I’ll come around sometime after 8. That cool?”
“Sure, that’s perfect. See you then.”
“Love you.”
Tim was quiet for a moment. Bernard was patient. Then, “I love you, too. See you later. Bye.”
Bernard grinned. It was a tactical risk pulling that on him. It hadn’t been that long ago Tim could call them boyfriends without stuttering. And now, they were going to have their first sleepover together since high school.
Bernard looked at his clothes as he packed them up, particularly his pajamas. They were hand-me-downs from Toby, and while Bernard liked them well enough, would they be a little too ratty for this? And moreover, would showing up there in Batman pajamas be a little too on the nose? He loved teasing Tim about his secret identity but that might actually get him suspicious that Bernard knew the truth. He’d need to pick up something else after he was done with work. He would not show up to his boyfriend’s boat looking like a slob!
--
Tim was a slob messy person. His mind was sharp, his deductive reasoning unparalleled, and his skills across various fields were masterful. But like most geniuses, he thrived in chaos of his own making, and there was no clearer sign of that than his houseboat. Once, his neighbor Lauren had stopped by to ask him to have dinner with her and Tammy, and nearly killed herself walking down the stairs when she slipped on a discarded takeout bag. Not Tim’s fault, though Tammy’s wrath after that incident said otherwise.
So while Tim definitely had to clean up any evidence of his Robin activities - case files, hardware, suit pieces, gadgets - he also gave the space a proper cleaning. Like on-the-floor-with-a-scrub-brush, window-washing, dishes-put-away kind of cleaning. The laundry… well, that went under the bed. He only had so many hours!
The fervor with which he cleaned his living space surprised even him. He had ignored it when his siblings talked about his junky boat; Bernard had already seen it this way from the very start. But he still wanted to make it shine for him. Make it just a little bit better for his boyfriend’s first night over.
--
Bernard arrived in the evening, with his necessities and valuables he didn’t want to leave behind where strangers might rummage through his drawers. A Gothamite born and raised. Tim tried not to linger over the idea that his boyfriend's whole life could probably fit in just three bags and met him on the dock for a welcoming kiss. They had been sharing a lot more kisses since officially calling each other boyfriends (though apparently, Bernard had been calling them that way longer). When they finally pulled back, Bernard was beaming with unrestrained glee. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself,” Tim returned, picking up one of the bags and bringing it into his home.
Bernard gawked at the place. “Uh, did you buy a new house without telling me? Because I swear I haven't seen the floor of your boat since the day before you moved in.”
“Ha-ha,” Tim said, setting the duffel bag down on his clutter-free floor. “If you wanted to sleep in a Five-Star hotel, you should have spoken up sooner.
Actually, his back-up apartment over near Crime Alley might qualify. If Bernard was really uncomfortable sleeping on the boat, maybe he could bring him over there instead. He’d have to be extra careful about the access points to the Nest but…
“No way!” his boyfriend declared, sounding offended at the idea. “I love your boat. It's so cozy and homey and so totally you. It’s perfect just as it is, even when it’s messier than a frat-boy’s dorm!” He just couldn’t resist that last dig.
But Tim appreciated his words all the same.
--
They ordered delivery for dinner, a local Thai place that they both adored. While sitting around Tim’s table, Bernard brought out his laptop to show him his latest discover: a fan-made Green Lantern movie. Tim was genuinely impressed by the flick and was already plotting how to get Bruce into a situation where he couldn’t escape watching it. The aroma of green curry and spring rolls, Bernard’s theories that the filmmakers were actually part of a Lantern Corp splinter group wishing to sway public opinion and take over the universe - all of it felt right. For them, at least.
“It just makes sense,” Bernard insisted between bites of his curry. "By hiding in plain sight on YouTube, they can secretly influence galactic events and just blame it on the more famous members!”
Tim laughed, urging him on. Bernard's eyes sparkled when he was passionate about a new idea.
The conversation flowed effortlessly, weaving through topics of jobs, school, family and anything else they wanted. There was a lightheartedness to it all, but also a deeper connection, an unshakable comfort and safety that let them be as unfiltered and silly as they pleased. As the night went on and their movie ended, they were still talking, ignoring their food that had long gone cold. Bernard leaned back against the bench, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips. "This is what I like most about being here. It’s just you and me. It’s nice.”
Tim smiled, reaching out to squeeze Bernard's hand. "I love having you here.”
--
Bernard’s yawning told Tim they’d stayed up long enough. He had already called off of patrol for the night but the other still had work tomorrow, so they couldn’t burn the late-night oil like the might any other time. Tim insisted Bernard could head to the bedroom first and get changed while Tim cleaned up the mess.
“He’s already mending his ways,” Bernard wiped a fake tear from his eyes. “I’ve never been more proud.”
He ran to the bedroom, closing the door fast before the couch cushion could hit him.
--
Bernard felt far less sure about his choice of sleeping clothes now that they were on his body. He’d only allowed himself thirty minutes after his shift to dash into a store and grab a “respectable” set of pajamas off the shelf. No garish logos, no quirky patterns; just something nice and neat for when he shared a bed with his Significant Other.
But seeing himself in the light blue, pinstriped flannel, he looked...wrong. Like he was trying to hide behind something "presentable" and fake his way through. A harsh reminder to his teen years, causing a rush of those old insecurities he'd tried to hard to shed. He shouldn't have bought this. He was proud of who he was and what he liked. So why did he keep having these moments of doubt that made him do things he would end up regretting?
Tim knocked on the door, politely refraining from barging into his own bedroom. Bernard would have given anything to rewind, hit pause, and change his life’s decisions. But he couldn’t.
“Come in,” he said, his voice as steady as he could manage.
Tim pushed the door open, took one look at him, and smiled. “Cute.”
Usually, that word from Tim would make him happy, but this time it hit a little wrong. “Yeah, I know it’s… it’s stupid.” He gripped the offensive fabric between his fingers, hating it more with each passing second. “I should have worn the Batman ones instead.”
“Well, that would be very much your style, you fanboy,” Tim said, coming closer. He wrapped his arms around Bernard’s waist, pulling their bodies together, then murmured into his ear, “But these are nice, too. You're a handsome guy, Bernard, no matter what you wear. These look good on you."
Tim’s boldness was unusual, but his ability to read Bernard's insecurities and immediately sooth them was commonplace. Bernard hugged his wonderful boyfriend in gratitude for those words. He then left the room so Tim could change into his own pajamas, which were a lot simpler: basketball shorts and an oversized T-shirt.
Bernard didn’t let their dissimilarity of outfits bother him a second time. He chose to savor the moment; brushing his teeth together in Tim’s tiny bathroom, hip-checking each other for space in the mirror, and trying not to choke on foam amidst their laughter.
--
Tim’s bed wasn’t small, but it was compact. Enough for one person comfortably and two if they didn’t mind touching in the middle. Bernard waited to see which side the other preferred climbing under the sheets with him, taking the spot closer to the wall.
Was that intentional?
The dock lanterns outside shone their light through the windows, the only illumination they had. Bernard was 80% certain Tim could actually see in this dark, so he felt a little more self-conscious than he might have otherwise. A calloused hand found his beneath the blanket and squeezed it, offering silent reassurance to what he must have read on Bernard’s face.
Finding the right sleeping position was hard; Bernard was used to a much firmer (and lumpier) mattress, so his body was a little unsure how to work with Tim’s memory foam. For his part, Tim couldn’t seem to settle on what part of the bed he actually wanted, going from the very edge of his side to taking up a good chunk in the middle. There was a lot of shifting limbs, sometimes kicking each other which provoked retaliation, but that was a familiar part of their old sleepovers too. It was nostalgic.
“Fair warning: I’ve been told I snore,” Tim whispered.
“That won’t bother me. My roommates are like grizzly bears trying to harmonize with one another in an all-night concert. When my eyes are closed, I’m deaf.” Bernard paused, considering, before adding, “But, um, I might wake up in the middle of the night. I get nightmares sometimes.”
Tim was quiet; Bernard wished he could see his face. Then warm arms came up around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug that always felt like a safe place to hide. “I’ll be right here if you do,” Tim promised, soft yet unyielding. “I’ll be here when you get up tomorrow, too. You're safe, Bear. "
Bernard bit his lip to keep the tears of gratitude at bay. How had he found someone who care so much, who actually paid attention enough to see the fears he’d never admit to. Bernard shifted until his lips found warm skin, trailing them across Tim’s cheek until he could properly kiss the man he loved. It was gentler than what they’d had outside, but twice as meaningful. Simple but perfect, just like this moment. Just like every moment they got to share in this comfy houseboat.
The night dragged on, their attempt to sleep interrupted by whispered comments and gentle touches. Snuggling under the blankets was the best part by far, feeling heartbeats and gentle breaths, the warmth and safety of having a lover’s arms to hold you tightly through the night.
The bond they shared was already strong, but taking a step like this made it feel like they were truly unbreakable.
---
I wonder if you can tell how tired I was after a week of writing. Still, I gave it my best to end TimBer Week 2024 on a good note. That said, I might come back through these on a later date and do some editing. Not for a while, though.
Thank you to everyone who read even one of my posts and a special thanks if anyone joined me in this project!
Let's see what next year brings!
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heartinhyacinth · 3 days ago
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Please read fully if possible.
For a brief moment, I was unsure about sharing this here. Then I remember the scene from TGCF between Xie Lian and a farmer from Yushi Huang’s kingdom.
“If I am causing trouble for the rain master, I will not pester any further.”
However, the farmer said, “why won’t you pester? Because it’s shameful? This is about the survival of your {kingdom}—shouldn’t you pester us to death? Is it so hard to lower yourself and ask?”
Then I remember Hua Cheng. To watch your beloved in pain with your own eyes and be unable to do anything—that’s the worst suffering in the world.
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The doctors, as well as I, strongly suspect cancer. Amputation was recommended as pretty much the only option to reduce pain, but there lies the risk that the cancer has metastasized to her chest or throughout other areas of her body. We cannot afford to do both. If we take more X-rays and find out it hasn’t spread, we cannot afford to amputate her paw before it does. If we do not check if it has spread, we may go into debt and put her through more suffering only for it to be too late for amputation to help much anyway. We would not be able to afford any more treatment after that.
If you had asked me before what the worst pain of my life was, I’d have said something along the lines of suspected gastroparesis or the time I had to get surgery for a badly infected ingrown toenail when I was thirteen—nitroglycerin was sprayed on my toe as a numbing agent before a needle as thick as spaghetti was inserted into it and a quarter of my nail was removed nearly all the way up to the joint.
However, If you’d ask me today what the worst pain of my life was, it would be this. If you’d ask me a week from now, it would be this. If you’d ask me in a year, though perhaps as soon as even a month, I fear it would be something far worse.
She is in pain and action needs to be taken as soon as possible. This world thrives on insisting upon every chance imaginable that money and independence should live as the core themes of humanity. So far, it is getting its way about the ‘money’ part. I ask that it does not about the ‘alone’ part.
Her name is Lily. She is the friendliest cat you will ever meet in your entire life. She does not care if you are a human, a dog, a cat, or even a rock—she will love you. She sleeps in my jacket when it’s cold. She lays on my face. She sits on wrapping paper like the gift that she is. She loves bread and tortillas and cheese. She sticks her head in my water glass when I’m not looking. She bosses around her best friend—a cat twice her size that everyone else is scared of. She cuddles with her and sleeps with her head tucked in the crook of her neck. She sticks her whiskers up my nose when I’m sad and makes me laugh and licks my tears away. She sits on my shoulder like a bird. She sleeps between my arms with her head on my pillow next to mine. She walks on the piano and plays music. She loves kisses more than air itself and perks up when she knows they’re coming. She cuddles up so close to me I always say it’s like she’s trying to crawl inside my mouth. She purrs more than she doesn’t. She is sassy and will bite your nose or your toes if you put them by her. She looks at me like I’m her entire world and she is mine. She’s my bright-eyed girl who was happy from the moment she arrived.
She is my child. She is my best friend. She is in pain.
This world says her life is not worth it if I cannot pay. This world will not compromise.
This world says If I cannot do it, I am alone. I am asking you to be the compromise. I am asking you to say this is not our world. I can’t do this alone.
Anything at all is appreciated more than you can ever know. Even if all you’re able to do right now is share this ❤️
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sincerely-sofie · 1 month ago
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It’s Narilamb fankid hours.
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