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woewriting · 2 months ago

Text

cold to the touch

pairing: wednesday addams | reader summary: after visiting the other side afterwards almost being killed by the pilgrim, wednesday addams catches the attention of someone who's a bit curious about the girl who escaped death. word count: 8494 warnings: mdni, +18 only! no pronouns used, contains nsfw content.

masterlist

The rumors of a new transferred student filled the hallways of Nevermore, gossips about what kind of creature had just moved in. Everyone had a different theory, the glass-like eyes reminded Bianca of her own, the mermaids. The black-painted, sharp nails were a werewolf thing, Enid thought to herself as she eyed you from afar. The locks of your hair, hidden by the black beanie made it look like you were hiding something… snaky underneath it. But what caught the attention of everyone was the black and white suit that covered your body, similar to the one Wednesday Addams wears. The lack of color in your vests were enough to draw everyone’s attention, although, your beauty and the mystery around what you were, was an extra reason for the Addams girl to close the book in her hands and pay a small attention to your details, away from the crowd.

Following the tall woman, you stood by her side at the entrance to the courtyard. Everyone’s eyes on you.

“Attention, Nevermore, I’d like to introduce to you all our new student. I’m sure you’re gonna make her feel welcome during her journey in our school, isn’t that correct?”

Some heads nodded at the woman’s statement, others simply turned around and ignored their surroundings, a messy chatter growing louder and louder. The director touched your shoulder with a gentle smile before walking away, leaving you by yourself.

As you looked around the new faces you’d have to get used to, you noticed how things were different since the last time you’d actually been on earth wearing your human form. It’s been what, 3 years? Maybe a bit more… your memory failing to recap the last years, they were a messy and confusing blur. Ever since you became Death, your memories from your human life were slowly being erased as you kept on living as the undying creature, responsible for harvesting souls as they walked to you on the other side of the veil, waiting for your hand to touch their chest so they could rest in peace.

At first, your heart would break when they realized they were no longer allowed to live with the living ones, when they had to walk away and leave their loved ones behind and accept their destiny, waiting for their rebirth.

You had the same expression on your face when you saw your lifeless body on the hospital bed, surrounded by doctors that tried everything in their power to bring you back. You stood there for minutes, crying as you felt farther and farther from your human life, taking steps back until everything around you turned into a white forest, with long trees that swung with the cold breeze, you felt nostalgia as you walked around the empty garden, as if you had returned home after a long trip. It was warm, like watching the sunrise at the beach, the soft sound of waves crashing down the white sand, the birds chirping around you with a calming melody, and the breeze… so light and refreshing, ready to embrace you in your new life as a new day rose in front of your eyes.

Taking a deep breath, you opened your eyes, the white forest turned into a beach with a few waves crashing at your feet, the pinkish sky painted with a few clouds in shapes of things you loved when you were alive.

That’s when it hit you, like a punch in the stomach you fell to your knees, the tears dropping from your face onto the clear blue water, mixing in together as your new life was being written in the sand. You were alone, but something inside you was saying to look around, to look for her. She would help you to start over. She would guide you until you were to move on your own. But she would never leave you alone.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” A soft voice came from behind you.

You looked over your shoulder, feeling the warm water hit your legs.

A woman was standing a few steps away from where you kneeled down. She had her eyes closed, enjoying the early breeze of the morning as the sun turned the sky into a yellowish tone with a few splashes of light blue.

She was beautiful.

“What do I do now?” You ask as you brushed off the tears that still insisted on falling down your cheeks. “Where do I go?”

When her eyes opened, your heart missed a beat. It had no color in them, yet you could still see the universe in the bright white color, they were glowing as she stared down at you, reaching her hand out to help you up to your feet.

“Oh, honey.” She smiled. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Aren’t you an angel?”

The woman in white, silky dress, laughed. Even the way she laughed was angelical and beautiful, you couldn’t help but smile at the heavenly view in front of you.

“I am an angel, but not the one you’re thinking of.” Her hand was soft against yours as she pulled you closer. Her other hand brushing your hair off your face. “I am Death, but I am not here to take your soul, I’m here to guide you on your new journey. When you wake up, you’ll be me. Your eyes will see every single particle of the universe around you. You will hear every heartbeat of those living around you. And when their time comes, you will be the one to embrace their souls as they leave this world.”

“You want me to become… death? You want me to kill people?”

She shook her head, hearing the missing beat your heart took as fear filled your body. Her hand rested on your chest, calming the racing organ.

“You won’t kill anyone, sweetheart, you only take the souls that will walk to you. You will become a beacon for those leaving the living world. You will help them to leave that life behind so they can move forward to their new one. It’s your duty to ease their fears, to leave all their anger, their sorrows, their pain, behind.”

“What about those who loved them?”

Deep down, Death knew your question was a personal one for you. She looked at the waves crashing over your shoulders.

“Death will come for everyone, love. It’s a hurtful, but necessary evil. Death exists to teach others that life will end, there’s nothing you can do to stop that from happening. I am here so that others can live their lives to the fullest, cherishing every moment with their loved ones, finding beauty in the small things, learning and enjoying the simplest things you can ever lay your hands on. This is yours.”

Turning around, you allowed yourself to close your eyes and take a deep breath.

Even though you felt like you couldn’t walk away from the life you had, you couldn’t jump back into your lifeless body that was still laying in that hospital bed. In the back of your head, you could still hear the machines attached to your chest.

She was right.

Death was a lesson.

And everyone should learn about it so they can live without fear.

When a new wave crashed at your feet, a warmth embraced your body, lifting you from the ground as the air kept you floating. When you opened your eyes, you were still floating, but this time, cold and salty water surrounded you. You coughed a few times as you swam back to the shore.

It was the same beach; it had the same yellowish sky and the same rocks on its side. The water was not warm and the sand wasn’t as white as before, but you knew that after this moment, nothing would be the same anymore.

Your rebirth as the angel of Death was a few years ago, just when you had turned 18 years old. When you woke up, the memories of your loved ones had been erased, their faces disappearing like smoke in thin air. You didn’t remember much about your life as a human being, the only thing you could remember came after her, the beautiful angel with white eyes that carried the whole universe in them that touched your chest and embraced you in a warm hug.

And now, scanning the young faces, you were looking for a specific one, the reason why you abandoned your comfortable home to come here, the human side of your world. You’d never forget the brownish eyes surrounded by adorable freckles you saw months ago. You’d seen that face before, but the one with blonde hair didn’t carry the same attitude the one with black braids did. She was unique, and she hadn’t left your mind ever since.

Wednesday Addams… the girl that survived death and saved the small town of Jericho from an evil spirit in her last year of high-school. Your eyes looked for her, careful and sharp, paying attention to every single detail of the faces in front you, absorbing all the information you could.

Apparently, the girl was nowhere to be seen or heard. She was either really good at hiding or she wasn’t even there with the other students. You looked for another familiar face, easily finding the blonde girl sitting by the water fountain.

Enid smiled big at you, wrapping her arms around your body in a welcoming hug.

“Welcome to Nevermore!” Her voice was a high-pitched tone, nothing annoying but definitely louder than you were used to. “Are you going to high school or getting ready for college like us?” Her hand motioned to the small group sitting at the rock made structure.

“Do I look young enough to still be in high school?” You asked in a joking way.

“Well, you do look young,” She laughed, but judging by your uniform, she could’ve known you were no longer a teenager. “But it’s nice to have a new student in our class, we’ve been seeing the same faces for a really long time. The last time someone joined Nevermore, it was a mess… but we’re all good now, no danger at sight!”

Your eyes glowed at her saying, “I heard about that. A small girl saved this place, isn’t that right?”

Enid got closer to you, whispering in your ear. “Don’t call Wends small, she will kill you in your sleep. Don’t call her Wends too or she will kill me and I’m not ready to die.”

“Trust me, I’m not ready to die either.” You smiled.

➖

The days in Nevermore Academy were starting to become dull and annoying, causing you to flee out of the gates that surrounded the big buildings at night just to lay on top a big tree’s branches, watching the universe with your white eyes, witnessing the death of a supernova millions of years away from where you were, or even the birth of a new galaxy. It was in those moments that you were happy to be what you were meant to be. To this day, you don’t know much about why you were the chosen one, why the angel of Death had chosen you to be the next one wearing that ring.

Staring at it, the silvery ring on your left hand, you swear you saw it moving around your finger, shining like a small star. You had your theories on what that glow meant, but you were too lazy to go after the reason why it did that every now and then. You would wait for all the answers to fall from heaven into your lap, like an encyclopedia.

You took a closer look to the universe over the dark sky before jumping down, a few dry leaves cracking under your shoes.

“How did you get up there?” Turning around as you heard the monotone voice, you saw Wednesday coming out from behind a tree a few steps away from you.

“I climbed.” You easily lied. “I didn’t hear you.”

“I’m a very quiet girl, I can sneak into your dorm and you won’t even notice I was there.”

“Have you ever broken into my room?”

“Why would I break into your room?” The girl always had a serious expression on her pretty face. It was like Wednesday Addams couldn’t feel a thing.

You shrugged, “You said it first.”

“It was an example.” She explained. “I’m sorry if I made it seem like I would do such a disrespectful action like breaking into your room. If I wanted to be in your room, I’d knock on the door.”

When you took a step closer, she took two steps back.

Wednesday was always a step back from everyone, even from those that she’s closer with, like Enid and Bianca. In the 3 months you were in Nevermore, you had never seen a single soul touch the black-haired girl, the only thing that was allowed to touch her was, well… Thing, the severed hand that would linger around her shoulder that still made your brain itch. What was Thing, anyway? Only one from the many secrets hidden behind the black and white girl.

“Well, if you ever need me for anything, I will be in my room.”

Turning on your heels to leave and return to the dorm's aisle, you heard the dry leaves cracking under her heavy boots.

“Why do you always climb that tree?” Despite the not-caring-like personality, Wednesday was a very curious girl, and she wanted to know everything about you.

Who the new girl was and what was she? Your human body could be a part of any outcast group in Nevermore Academy and not knowing what it was, was slowly driving her crazy.

“I like to watch the stars.” You answered honestly, walking to the Academy with the Addams following behind you. “What about you? Why were you hiding?”

“I was hiding from you.” The confession made you turn around, hands in the pockets of your jacket. “Isn’t that obvious?”

Instead of stopping on her tracks when you did, she allowed herself to come a bit closer, still keeping a safe distance. From this distance, you could smell her fainted perfume; it smelled so different from when you smelled it in her dorm when you would visit Enid to talk about music and trivial things that still made you feel like a human being, even if your heart wasn’t beating anymore.

“Are you stalking me, princess?”

“Call me princess again and I will easily break into your dorm and kill you in your sleep.” You let out a breathy laugh at the threatening tone in her voice. Adorable, you thought to yourself. “And yes, I want to know what you are.”

“What I am?” You asked with curiosity.

“Yes, that’s what everyone wants to know. Don’t you hear the gossip around the Academy?”

“I do.” After all, you could hear almost everything that surrounded you. As a newly angel of Death, the heartbeats would be a distraction when trying to listen to their voices, but you were getting the hang of it. “But why would anyone care about what I am? What if I am… a simple human being?’

“The last human being that stepped inside the walls of the school was a homicide maniac that tried to kill me and all the others outcast. I’d say it’s a terrible choice of place to stay.”

“I like the danger.”

“Should I kill you then? To prevent you from killing us?”

“I’d like to see you try, princess.”

Wednesday didn’t even notice how close to her you were until your hot breath hit her lips as you leaned into her personal space. Unlike before, the Addams didn’t flinch, instead, she lifted her chin and looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, never blinking.

For some reason, when looking into your eyes, Wednesday could see something else other than the pleasure in irritating her in them, she could see life in its most beautiful way. The more she kept her eyes locked on yours, the more she could see; it was like you had the entire universe trapped in them. It was at that moment she knew you weren’t human.

➖

After the small encounter you had with Wednesday at the woods behind the academy, somehow, you two became something like colleagues but not closer enough to be considered friends. The small girl had learned how to tolerate your presence as you lingered around her dorm, and now, you were getting closer and closer to find out all of her secrets, it was closer enough for Enid to leave her roommate alone with you, something she’d never done before, to attend tonight’s dance. Now, you were laying on her bed, head hanging off the comfortable mattress, staring at the back of Wednesday’s body as she kept on tapping the loud keyboards of her writing machine.

You sighed, loud. Addams did the same, her shoulders raising and falling with the deep breath she took.

“You’re an annoying creature.” She commented, still focused on the keys she had to click on, trying not to type a mistake as she had done to the previous five paper balls that were piling in the trash can near her desk.

“I’m bored.”

“Why didn’t you go to the party with Enid?”

“Why didn’t you?”

You sat correctly on the bed, crossing your legs.

“Last time I went to a party it rained blood, it was red paint, actually. After that disappointing event, I swore to never attend a party again.”

The silence around the room was a comfortable one, the only thing you could hear was the loud, mechanical sound of her writing machine and the calming beats of her heart.

Listening to her heart beats had become commonplace, you would stop anything you were doing just to listen to the tranquil sound. It didn’t matter if you were in the same room or if you were across the Ophelia Hall, on the other side of the building, you’d easily catch the unique sound.

“I’m hungry,” you whined like a small kid. “let’s go find something to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“But I am, and believe it or not, your company is not the worst.”

The mechanical sound stopped as Wednesdays turned to face you.

“I’ll pretend that didn’t offend me.” Before standing up, the girl removed the white page filled with words in black ink and placed in her drawer, on top of the others, words facing down. You remained sitting on the same spot, looking at her with doe eyes. “Are you waiting for me to take your hand and lead you down to the kitchen?”

You stretched out your hand to her, waiting. But the Addams would never do such a dangerous thing, despite the urge she felt in touching you sometimes, she felt drawn to you ever since the meeting you had in the woods during that cold night. The urge was still a mystery to her, but Wednesday always considered it was more of an urge to punch you every time you opened your mouth.

“Alright. Lead the way, miss Addams.” The other rolled her eyes.

As you walked down the hallways of Nevermore, you could hear the muffled songs and happy screams coming from the saloon where the party took place. It was a silly celebration for the first snow or something, something you didn’t care enough to celebrate, and neither did the girl that walked three steps ahead of you in complete silence. The light of the almost full moon crashing through the big windows and bathing your skin as you crossed the buildings in search for food. Not that you needed to eat, but still found pleasure in such a simple thing.

Wednesday led you to the kitchen, a few steps away from the ballroom, the music playing a bit louder inside your head now.

The girl waited patiently as you searched the pantry closet for something sweet. You knew that principal Weems always hid her chocolates and candies in the kitchen of the Academy, a place where the students were not allowed in. And now, you were in a forbidden place looking for something that didn’t belong to you, to satiate a silly desire that you barely felt in your stomach. Your body would crave random things from time to time, the longer you’d wear your human body, the stronger those urges would get.

“Can’t you get something from the table?” Behind you, there was a big counter filled with food that was being served to the ones that attended the party, but nothing you actually wanted to eat at the moment.

Tiptoeing, you tried to reach the top shelf of the pantry room. “I want chocolate, and I know Weems keeps hers in here. I saw her hiding them a few nights ago when I was going to the woods.”

“I will never understand the craving for things sweet like chocolate. It’s too sweet to enjoy.”

“Even semi-sweet chocolates?”

The girl pondered for a second as she watched you stretch out, whimpers coming out of your mouth as you kept trying to reach the high place. Was she really having small talk with you while you tried to steal the principal’s candies? It surely was something new to her, and, surprisingly, it was easy to do it with you.

“Those aren’t as repulsive, but it still isn’t something I crave in the middle of the night.”

You laughed, the tip of your finger recognizing the packaged at the end of the shelf, but before you could actually grab it in your hands, you heard familiar footsteps approaching, the sound of clicking heels on the wooden floor got louder and louder to you as principal Weems got closer to where you and Wednesday were. The human was so absorbed in your motions that she barely had the time to process your hand on her waist, pulling her body against yours and closing the door behind her.

Wednesday’s eyes shot wide open as she felt your hand covering her mouth, stopping her from making any sound, whilst your other arm wrapped around her waist to keep her closer to you in the small and dark space. When she heard the principal’s voice coming just from outside the pantry room, she stopped fighting against your hold and patiently waited for the voices to cease.

You gulped, the smell of her perfume and newly closeness distracting you from trying to listen to Weems’ and the cook’s heartbeat. All you could hear was hers, beating so erratically you could feel it in her back, pressed against your chest.

Looking over her shoulder, her eyes found yours, white taking over and galaxies shining in them.

What the fuck were you?

Once the footsteps moved away and out of the area your ability allowed you to hear, your hand uncovered her mouth and you let out a deep sigh, feeling your lungs burn. She turned in your arm to face you. Only then you noticed you still had your arm wrapped around her thin waist, but that didn’t seem like something that was bothering the girl.

“That was a close one.” You joked, trying to ease the tension that surrounded you two.

“Why is my touch not killing you?” Addams roamed her hands all over your chest, arms and face as if she was trying to find a spot where her curse would be the end of you. She wasn’t trying to kill you though; she was curious as to why you hadn’t dropped dead against the shelfs of the small space.

“You can’t kill what’s already dead, Wednesday.” You replied, humorously, enjoying the way her nails occasionally scratched the skin of your neck and chest because of the open buttons of your blouse.

“And I am the one they call ‘dramatic’.” She stopped touching you, taking a step back. “What are you?”

“I’m Death.”

“If you call yourself ‘death, destroyer of the world’, I will torture you and proceed to use a blind knife to slowly tear your limbs apart to feed it to the werewolves on the full moon tomorrow.”

“I’m not that cool, but I am Death. Death as in the angel, Death.” You explained calmly. “You’re a curious little thing, when I saw your cute face on the veil, I knew I had to get to know you.”

“Do not call me ‘a little thing’ or ‘cute’ ever again. Those words are sickening to my ears.”

Raising your hands, you smiled, leaning against the shelfs behind you, the chocolate forgotten on the top one. Wednesday crossed her arms, eyes traveling up and down your body, carefully studying the body that carried the most powerful being to ever walk the earth. And it was inside of… you. An annoying being that loved pet-names, pop music and disgustingly sweet candies, who would never leave her alone even if she’d threaten you with every terrible torture method she had in her vocabulary.

“Are you afraid of me?” You ask as her eyes analyzed your features, white color taking over your eyes as if on command.

The girl tilted her head, curious like a little kid that discovered a new, colorful animal in her backyard.

“Why would I be afraid of such an amazing creature such as yourself?” The words slipped easily, without giving much attention to its meaning. She wanted to know more about what was hidden under the undying body in front of her.

“You think I’m amazing, Addams?”

Wednesday rolled her eyes, the annoyance growing bigger inside her. She was curious about what you are, but the arrogant tone you always carried around in your voice was something she could not bear for a long time.

“You do amaze me, if I’m being honest. I didn’t know angels could walk the earth.”

You shrugged. “I’m the only one that can come and go any time without breaking the balance of the universe. If others come, there will be chaos.”

“You said you saw my ‘cute’ face on the other side,” her voice choked at the endearment. “When was that?”

“A couple months ago, when that pilgrim almost killed you.” You start, taking an opened package of candy from your jacket’s pocket. Wednesday looked at you with an unbelievable look in her eyes at that; you had sweets with you the whole time and still tried to steal some more? A menace, indeed. “I’ve seen your ancestor, Goody, a few times. Even though you two are very similar, she’s not you.”

“How’s that?”

You chewed a few sour candies before answering.

“She doesn’t have that ‘I’m going to murder you in the most horrible way you could ever imagine’, look in her eyes, you do. And you have no idea how beautiful it looks on you.”

Wednesday seemed satisfied with your words, softening her posture and accepting the sour candy you offered to her.

For some reason, for her, it was hard to be away from you, something kept drawing her in; maybe it was the curious side of hers in wanting to know everything she could about everything, or maybe it was your charm. Or the fact that you could touch her, it was a different, new feeling; being touched, that is.

“Give me your hand.” She reached out her hand, waiting for yours to rest on top of hers. You licked the sourly sugar from your fingertips before whipping them in your pants, finally doing as she said. “I can’t believe you’re the most powerful creature in the universe.” She mumbled like an old, grumpy lady. Hesitantly, she traced the lines on the palm of your hands, surprised at how warm your skin was. You were a dead creature after all, weren’t you? You watched with mesmerized eyes as she touched your forearms under the fabric of your blouse. She tilted her head up, eyes shining as she kept touching you with a light-feather touch.

“You’ve never touched anyone before?”

She shook her head, your voice lower and soft for some reason.

“Mother taught me to never allow someone to touch me, or to touch someone that wasn’t an Addams. It’s a curse placed on our family.”

“Who did it?”

“I’m not sure, mother doesn’t talk about this. And father is not allowed to. All I’ve been told is that it was a jealousy curse coming from someone in the school from when my parents were still students in Nevermore.” She shrugged. “My parents have been through a lot of resentment, it’s outlandish, if I’m being honest.”

“And how does it feel?”

Her eyes found yours, “Like a spider crawling up my fingers. It tickles.” It was a weird feeling, but still something she could get used to with time. “How old are you?”

“You should never ask a lady her age, Miss Addams. You, coming from such a fancy and well-mannered family should know that.”

“I’m starting to regret holding your hand in mine and not stabbing it.”

The silly threat got you laughing. Still, her fingers were tracing random lines in your forearm.

“I died when I turned 18 in a car accident.” You started, trying as hard as you could to remember those days. “This was… 5 years ago, maybe? I can’t remember much of it, my old life.” you specified. “All I remember is waking up at the beach. I’m not much older than you, I’m taller though.”

“I'm running out of offenses about how annoying you are. Death should be scary, not an irritating girl.”

“Should I wear a dark robe, listen to heavy metal and carry a reaping hook around?”

“It’s not about how you dress; it’s about how you act.”

You blinked a few times, pulling your hand from hers. “I guess I don’t want to lose the human part of me, it’s all that’s left.”

For the first time since you two met, Wednesday saw something different in your eyes before you turned your back to her. She saw a glimpse of sadness in the place it used to be filled with life.

Tiptoeing once again, you reached the package from the top shelf, waving it in front of you like a happy little kid.

“We can go now.”

For the first time in that chaotic night, you saw a flash of smile in her face.

➖

Even with headphones on and music blasting in your ears, you could hear the sound you loved the most getting louder as Wednesday crossed the hallways in her heavy boots, coming in the direction of your room. You jumped from your bed, taking the headphones off and placing them on the bedside table, opening the door before the girl could even raise her hand to knock, you asked with glowing eyes and sly smile:

“Can I help you, Miss Addams?”

“How did you know I was here?” Her dead eyes narrowed in your direction, eyeing you up and down. It was the first time she’d see you in your pajamas.

“I know when you’re around because I know the sound of your heart.”

You winked to the girl standing in the hallway, leaning on the door frame. That caught her off guard, eyes leaving yours to scan around your room.

It was definitely not what she had in mind, who would’ve thought that death is into pop and not soul-sucking type of music? Her eyes grew wider at the posters of girls glued to the brick wall.

After the pantry encounter and shocking revelation about who you were, Wednesday would often come to you with the most random, yet interesting questions a person could ask. You’d sit in the woods at night and watch the stars as she asked you if a supernova had occurred, or if it was raining on other planets. She’d ask with wide eyes if you could see life outside of Earth and would get annoyed when you refused to answer, creating a mystery that she would try hard to figure it out by the loose words you’d say.

Sometimes, she’d touch your arm like a kid to see if you’d still survive her curse every time you annoyed her. When she was feeling bold and in a good mood, her fingers would trace your skin in a soft touch as you fell asleep while watching the stars, comfortable in each other’s presence. As the days passed by, she’d find out your abilities and put them to test, walking to her dorm and asking if you could still hear her; after a couple minutes, you’d show up on her balcony to answer.

An amazing creature you were, indeed.

“You and Enid have the same music taste, a bitter mix of loud noises.” She commented in the same tone she always had in her voice.

You shrugged, crossing your arms. “I know, we talk a lot about it.”

In fact, even though you came to Nevermore to find the beautiful girl that somehow escaped you, you and the werewolf with pink hair became somewhat friends. Maybe it was a core memory from your life as a human-being, something that being friends with Enid would prevent it from drifting away from you; something you were not ready to let go yet. Something that kept you warm inside.

“Can I come in?”

With a nod of your head, Wednesday walked past you and stood in the middle of the room, eyes still analyzing her surroundings. That was the first time she’d been in your dorm even after the newly closeness you had, unlike you, who would visit hers almost every day to talk to her roommate and take away all the quietness she needed to work on her writing.

“So, did you like it?”

“Pardon?”

“My room. Is it what you imagined it would be like?”

Wednesday blinked once before turning to you. “Quite the opposite. I never thought Death would be a fan of KPOP to the point of having a collection of albums. Do you even speak Korean?”

“I don’t need to speak Korean to feel something.” You joke, taking a few steps towards the black and white girl. “And I do like ‘soul-sucking’ and ‘I hate myself’ type of music as well, they just don’t have cool posters to hang on the wall or photocards to collect.” As if you had read her mind, you explained.

“Fair enough.” She uncrossed her arms, lifting her head to face you as you got closer, a good inch taller than her. “But I didn’t come here to talk about music, I can do that with Enid if I ever wish to have a headache.”

“Ouch.”

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t my intention to offend you.”

You laugh, poking her shoulder. “I wasn’t offended, but my music taste is a lot better than Enid’s.”

“How’s that if you both listen to the same genres of music?”

The Addams girl was genuinely curious, outside of the classical world that filled her earphones and cello lessons, she didn’t have a clue about it. To her, it all had the same sound: noise. It was a messy and loud mix of words and instruments that she could not guess a single one of, almost impossible to appreciate for more than a couple minutes.

Her head was starting to hurt just from remembering some of the songs Enid would play while getting ready for classes early in the morning, even the birds that used to chirp outside the balcony window had disappeared.

“You see, there’s a lot of music styles inside of the KPOP world.” You start, loving the way Wednesday was close to you, attentively listening to you explain something she didn’t care at all. “For example: the songs BTS make today aren’t the same as the ones they made when they debuted. And BTS isn’t the same as Seventeen. And Seventeen is far from sounding the same as Dreamcatcher. And so it goes. It’s a big world, with different ways to produce music.”

“That’s interesting, indeed. But to my ears, it’s all noise. I have yet to learn how to tolerate it.” You smiled. Even though it was something the Addams wasn’t a fan of, she’d still try to tolerate it if it meant something to Enid, and to you. “Still, I didn’t come here to learn about music. I wanted to ask you something.”

“I’m all ears, princess.” Wednesday closed her eyes, taking a deep breath at the nickname you addressed her; you bit your bottom lip, catching the loud beat of her heart that was there every time you’d annoy her. “You don’t like being called ‘princess’. Do you, princess?”

“Keep calling me that and I will not hesitate on burning all of your album’s collection.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. Wednesday really was something else, she wasn’t afraid of you, you knew that, but to threaten you, even with something so small like burning a few pieces of paper with pretty people printed on them, that was a courage that many wouldn’t have around you knowing that you, literally, had their lives in the palm of your hand.

She was fascinating to your eyes.

Just as you were to hers. The girl wouldn’t admit out loud, but she wanted to cut you open and study whatever made you being what, or who, you were. The detective side of hers screaming in the back of her brain.

But, right now, she wanted to cut open something else, and only you could help her.

“You said you needed help… With what, exactly, love?”

Choosing to ignore the endearing nickname, she took a step forward. You mirrored her.

“I want you to touch me.”

“I’m sorry?”

Your head turned slightly at her words as if you were trying to have a clearer hearing of her voice even though you were one small step away from each other. From this distance, you could hear the blood traveling on her veins.

Wednesday took a deep breath, wondering if you really didn’t understand her or if you were, as always, joking around.

“I want you to touch me. What part of that did you not understand?”

“I just wanted to confirm, sweetheart.” You smiled. “It’s not every day that I get asked to touch something so beautiful and unique like yourself.”

The praise got to her, a small twinge of pain spreading on her stomach. A good type of pain.

“I wasn’t asking.”

You took the last step forward after her last words when you noticed she was stuck in the same spot, your finger tracing her jawline in a ghostly-like touch. Wednesday closed her eyes, goosebumps all over her body. It was weird and it tickled, but the warmth of your skin on hers was something she could tolerate.

Wednesday would always touch you, but you never touched her. It was the second time someone touched her and didn’t drop dead in a second, so she leaned into the caress. You bit your lower lip, leaning closer to her, whispering against her slightly open lips.

“Can I kiss you?” The words hit her like a flaming arrow.

Wednesday wasn’t the type to anticipate anything, her anxiety was always under her control, but having you, asking such delicate question, looking at her with soft eyes filled with stars, made her heart beat like crazy.

“You can.”

The arrow, shot with extreme precision, went through her body when your lips touched, spreading fire on her veins. It was her first kiss; you were her first kiss.

Gently, your hand reached her face, holding her in place as you deepened the kiss, sighing against her. The Addams closed her eyes, giving into your touch. Unsure what to do, her hands grabbed the soft fabric of your shirt, feeling the warmth that emanated from your body.

It was a funny thing to feel, Death being a hot body while Wednesday was cold to the touch. When your heart beat against hers, she melted against your embrace.

When you pulled back, a very small, satisfied smile drew on the corner of her lips. Her eyes shot open, a black glow shining on them.

“Was that your first kiss?” Your voice was nothing but a whisper, so low and soft that if you two weren’t glued to each other, the Addams wouldn’t have heard. She nodded. “How far do you wanna go tonight?”

“I’ll tell you when to stop.” Wednesday breathed out, licking her lips. “Now, can we do that again?”

“As many times as you want, princess.”

When you kissed her again, it wasn’t soft or calm, it turned rough, needy, with her nails scratching the back of your neck as she pulled you closer, hugging your body with an urge she’d never felt before. You were the first person outside the Addams family that could touch her, and she would enjoy every single minute of it, it didn’t matter if she seemed desperate or needy, right now, all she craved was your hands on her body, bruising the untouched skin.

Pulling her up, Wednesday wrapped her legs around your waist as you easily walked towards your bed, sitting down with her on your lap. The kiss was sloppy, wet and the way she was whimpering against your mouth was turning your head upside down. Kissing her was a lot different than you had ever imagined. When you pulled away to breath, a string of saliva connected your lips.

“Why did you stop?” Her voice came out as a lowly whisper, and she was soft against your body.

“I want to make sure you really want this; this whole touch thing is new to you. I don’t want to overwhelm you.” Your hand found the skin of her back under the shirt she wore to sleep, feeling the goosebumps as you roamed them up and down.

“I appreciate the concern,” Wednesday gulped hard. “but I can take it. I can take you.”

So you kissed her again, harder and deeper, deliciously moving your tongue on hers, allowing her to take control of that situation. Her hands found your hair, fingers pulling at the softness and making them a mess as you turned on your knees, laying her against the mattress of your bed.

The muffled sounds escaping her mouth became louder as your hands found her thigh, even over the fabric of her sleeping pants it felt nice to have someone touching her there, squeezing the flesh as you moved up, playing with the elastic of it. The tip of your fingers easily trespassing.

“It turns me on so badly knowing that I’m the only one that can touch you.” The confession got her head spinning, the blood rushing in her veins all the way up her cheeks, red color giving life to the pale skin.

With your lips pressed against hers, you moved the kiss to her jawline, down to her neck. You could feel the blood flowing in her veins when your tongue licked her jugular before biting that spot, a soft moan escaping her parted lips, fingers locked in your hair as she pulled you impossibly closer, legs wrapping around your waist.

Wednesday’s hand moved down to your waist, lifting your shirt in a silent request for you to remove the useless fabric, she wanted to feel every centimeter of your warm skin. You were, unexplainable, burning under her fingerprints when you fixed your posture, removing the pajama and throwing it on the floor. The brunette licked her lips at the sight of you, black painted nails scratching your belly in her curious movements, a flash of bothersome in your eyes at the slight burning feeling.

Sitting up with you on her lap, Wednesday kissed alongside your neck, biting the collarbone, a purplish dot where her mouth previously was. She was aggressive with her mouth and you were loving it.

Despite being the first time she ever got to touch someone like that, Wednesday knew what she was doing with her mouth, and with her hands. The cold fingertips curiously moving down your spine and resting on your lower back, digging into the soft skin and making your hips moving against hers.

“Do that again.” Once more, she wasn’t asking. She was demanding with a breathy voice that could’ve easily stolen a few years of your immortal life, forcing you to repeat the move with her bare hands.

One of your hands was firm on the back of her neck while the other rested on the wooden headboard, applying the pressure you wanted to use on her, but couldn’t. Her small body could easily break under your touch.

“I think…” You breathed out, letting your head fall back when her kisses moved to your neck. “I think we should switch positions, love.”

“You don’t think I can do this?”

“Oh, I know you can.” You choked a laugh. “But this is your first time, I want to focus on you, princess. I want to make you feel good. I’ve been touched before.”

The innocent mention of her not being your first — like you were going to be hers — turned a key inside her that made her sink her teeths in the crook of your neck. A painful muffle scaping your throat, the twinge of pain spreading in your veins.

“I really don’t want to think of others touching you right now.” Wednesday whispered as she licked the wounded skin. “Tonight, you’re mine.”

“That’s fair, Addams.” Swallowing hard, you pulled back, making her look at you. Her eyes were darker than usual, swallowed by the pleasure of having you gridding on her lap. You leaned in, capturing her lips in a slow kiss, distracting her with your tongue as you slowly pressure her down the mattress again, trying to fix yourself in between her legs. The Addams pushed her hips towards you. “Someone’s anxious.”

“Shut up.” She tried pulling you down with the heels of her feet, but you were stronger than her — even without using the strength of being Death gave you. “Why are you doing this?”

“This?”

“Just…touch me. I’m bothered.”

“Bothered?”

There you were once again, the little jerk that liked to tease her about everything. She knew you knew exactly what she meant with that word and, on other occasions, she would’ve played along and delayed her answer, but right now, with the annoying slick in between her legs, she went straight to the point.

“Just fuck me already.”

You smiled against her, biting on her lower lip.

“That’s a polite princess.” One of your hands travelled down her body, ignoring what you soon would give your undivided attention to, to rest in between her legs. When your finger pressed down the wet patch on her pants, your eyes flashed in white. “No underwear, Wednesday?”

“I didn't want anything making it harder for you to touch me.” She confessed, licking her lips and tasting the remains of yours. “But, clearly, I wasn't counting with you making it hard.”

The Addams rolled her hips against your fingers and, even through the fabric of her pajama, it still felt ten thousand times better than when she touched herself in the darkness of her room.

You could feel how wet she was for you. How ready she was for you.

Hooking your fingers in the elastic waistband, you pulled down her pants. Wednesday finished kicking the useless thing somewhere around your dorm, now resting along with your shirt.

Unlike you thought she would be, the Addams wasn’t shy under your gaze, no… she had a satisfied smile. Her ego boosting at the way you licked your lips at the sight of her dripping cunt.

Your hand travelled up her leg, the ghostly touch making her shiver and move anxiously. The closer your fingertips got to her inner thighs, the wetter she got. Literally dripping onto your sheets. She was desperate for you.

Leaning down on your elbows, you were fast to collect that single drop, moaning at the bittersweet taste. You looked up, finding the black eyes focused on your mouth when your tongue slided against her, savoring her in a slow, torturous lick that seemed to last forever.

“You taste so fucking good, Wednesday.” You whispered, turning your face to kiss her inner thigh.

“Then why isn't your tongue inside me already?” The Addams was annoyed and impatient, you could tell by the way her hands moved from gripping the sheets to gripping your hair, trying to pull you closer. She groaned, rolling her eyes. “I despise you.”

Your sly smile didn’t last long as she gathered strength to push your face against her cunt, and you finally gave her what she wanted.

Wednesday’s lips parted as a quiet breath escaped them, lost in the thick air that surrounded your bedroom. Her fingers tangled in your hair, tugging and pulling at the soft strands as your tongue moved in different directions, sometimes slow and sometimes fast, moving up and down her slit and kissing her cunt. Her juice dripping down your chin as your digit brushed over her clitoris, circling the swollen bundle of nerves carefully before pushing her bigger lips together with your thumb and index finger, creating more pressure when your tongue flickered on her clit.

She nearly screamed when you kept doing that, your other hand resting on her belly, fingers intertwining as she squeezed your head with her legs. Luckily, you didn’t need to breathe.

Your eyes fluttered shuttered for a few seconds as you focused on what you were doing, but when her hips pushed up and her fingers crushed yours, your eyes shot open in the whitest tone Wednesday ever saw. It was pure, magical, like the explosion of a supernova.

The fingers that touched her turned into a soft caress, your slicky lips kissing around her reddened cunt, patiently waiting for her to come down from her high.

Wednesday’s eyes were closed, the stars that once were in yours, now shone behind her closed lids. She never thought she’d be able to see the stars like that, with someone in between her legs, licking her clean.

“Are you okay?” You asked in a low-pitched tone, climbing her body with kisses.

“Is it always like that?” The Addams asked with a dry mouth, closing her legs as she still felt the spasms of her sensitive nerve. You laid next to her, chin resting on her shoulder.

You shrugged.

“It should be.” Your reply was simple. “Did you like it?”

“I can still see stars on the roof of your terribly decorated room. Yes, I did like it.”

“Good.” You let out a laugh, resting your face in the palm of your hand, while the other, once again moved on her inner thigh, finding its way in between the closed muscles. “Because we’re not done yet.”

#✍️#wednesday addams #woewriting #wednesday addams x you #wednesday x female reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #netflix wednesday #wednesday addams x gn reader #wednesday addams x female reader #jenna ortega #wednesday x y/n #wednesday x fem!reader #wednesday x you #wednesday x gender neutral reader #wednesday x gn reader #wednesday addams x gender neutral reader

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thegreatyin · 5 months ago

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exactly!!!! as it goes!!!!!!!!!!

current fallen london fandom experience feels like im standing at the corner of a party holding a sippy cup going. i thought firmament has been pretty fun and intriguing so far

#i dont think the fire that follows was necessarily sent by immanent tbh #i think it's implied to be a separate entity. it might have been heavily influenced by him but i dont think he's precisely the source #he was influenced by it too #so it's Some Other Player in this whole web of eldritch baffling horrors #but idk. that's just my theory #fallen london #fallen london spoilers #firmament spoilers #y'know it's funny in hindsight that so far the rain seems completely unrelated to the wider plot #like #the rain was just the thing that got us here. we solved that. now we've got bigger matters (birds) to deal with #im sure it'll all somehow tie back Eventually #for now im just going with the flow. having fun. living it up #i dont think it's fair to compare it to railway and evolution especially considering we know the complete stories of both #meanwhile we're literally going through the firmament motions as we speak #we can only judge it by the content that's been released so far #and on that basis i think compared to other Big Large Scale Adventures™ the early chapters of firmament win so far #admittedly perhaps by virtue of both railway and evo only picking up steam towards the latter half imo #what firmament really needs is a (comparative) breather where we can catch our breath and recap/sum it all up #chat with our buddies #figure out where to go from here #yknow?#we might get that at burgundy. we might not. we can only wait and see #im really excited for chapter 4. i cant wait to finally see what the last duchess's deal is #the scoundrel hasnt gotten along with her from the start so the rp interpretion opportunities alone will be fun

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stclaretarot · 5 months ago

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PICK A CARD ⭒ a message meant to find you you right now?

reminder that this is a general reading and messages found here may not apply to everyone. take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and don't force anything if it does not fit.

BOOK A READING WITH ME · LINKTREE · 18+ PATREON · TIPS ♡ tips, bookings, and feedback are highly appreciated!

GROUP ONE

cards pulled · knight of cups, five of pentacles, the lovers, ten of pentacles, king of cups.

channelled songs · blue by beyoncé & blue ivy. like it like that by pip millett. bigger by beyoncé. between the bars by eliott smith.

my dear group one ♡ brace yourself, dear, because love is closer to you than you think! it is closer to you than you could ever imagine!

not only is it closer to you in the span of time, but physically closer to you, as your next love may be someone who is around you. this is someone who you may not necessarily be friends with or even talk to, but who you share a schedule with. for example, someone you commute with or see at the coffee shop or see at the gym.

whatever the specifics, this seems to be someone who you have not really paid much attention to or thought of as a romantic prospect.

however, very soon, things are going to change. and they are going to change for the better!

GROUP TWO

cards pulled · eight of swords, page of pentacles, the hierophant, the emperor, seven of pentacles.

channelled songs · filter theory by coa white. alive by shinee. get back by pop smoke. walk by nct 127.

my dear group two ♡ what you must know, my dear, is that your anxiety is stopping you from seeing your way out of your current situation. you are a bird in a cage, the cagedoor is wide open, and you want to be free but you are afraid of what freedom would be like.

you are stuck. you are stagnant. you are afraid to take a step forward and unwilling to accept your life for what it is.

it’s kind of weird becauseyou want things to happen in your life, to change, but… at the same time… you have no idea what you want out of life. you have no idea what exactly in your life you want to change.

it’s time to sit down and do some introspection.

GROUP THREE

cards pulled · page of cups, the lovers, four of swords, page of swords, king of pentacles.

channelled songs · wait for it from hamilton. blue by taemin. honey - remix by mariah carey & mase. youngblood by 5 seconds of summer.

my dear group three ♡ what you must know is that soon you will find out why things have turned out the way that they have. why things have fallen apart. why things have not worked out before, or worked out in the way you had hoped. especially where love and work is concerned.

a better lover or business partner is coming towards you. this is a lover who can actually meet your needs in all the ways you have desired. or this is a business partner/job opportunity who will actually be paying you what you deserve.

for some, it is a combination of both, as these areas of your life will be blooming. wait for it! just a little longer!

GROUP FOUR

cards pulled · ten of cups, king of pentacles, knight of pentacles, ace of pentacles, four of wands.

channelled songs · desperado by rihanna. cry baby by megan thee stallion. punch and judy by elliott smith. good luck, babe! by chappell roan.

my dear group four ♡ what you must know right now is that all that glitters is not gold. things are not as good as they seem, and people you are exhausting yourself for would never in their life do the same for you.

you have idealised or romanticised a certain relationship, especially a familial relationship, and just accepted that it is normal for you to put everything you have into it.

but what about yourself? you can only give so much to othes, before it becomes detrimental to yourself and your health. it is time to start doing more for yourself. to take care of yourself. to celebrate yourself. and, more than that, to spoil yourself.

#**#tarot #pick a card #pac #tarotblr #tarotonline #tarotcommunity #tarotcreator #witchblr #witch of color #divination #channelled messages #channeled messages #spiritualism #spirituality

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hauntedbythefanficsofmypast · 6 months ago

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Not so Fake

Masterlist

Tim stationed himself in the third sitting room in the Manor. It was the closest to the kitchen, and furthest from the bedrooms and entrance of the manor. In other words, the perfect hiding spot from his overactive family that have united to try and make Tim rest. The only member that would find him right away would be Alfred, who already left him a cup of tea with a few of his cookies along with one of his laptops.

A note left on top stating that Alfred expected him to actually relax, and spotting the stickers Tim could tell this was his personal laptop. Taking Alfred seriously, Tim booted up YouTube and decided to watch his new favorite, GalacticPhantom, or Danny. He had found the channel a few months ago when one of his search engines caught a mention of Tim Drake and Red Robin being the same person.

The video in question had started off with a very well made video of the camera zooming down from a space view of the Earth to Danny’s home town, through his window and coming to a screeching halt in front of Danny and his friend Wes. The opening was highly impressive to Tim and the twenty-five minute video that followed had Tim wanting to pull his hair out.

Everything Wes said was true, completely true.

Tim was absolutely stunned and terrified because the other teen had managed to fully pull together who Red Robin was without even being in Gotham. The only thing that stopped Tim from calling a meeting about it, was that no one in the comments believed him. Instead Wes was mocked with the tried and true, ‘what do the butts match?’. He ended up watching every video under the playlist, ‘Wes the Detective’ and every single video hit right on the money but absolutely no one believed him.

Well, no one but his friends it seemed. Tim had a couple theories about it and if it wasn’t for the fact that Wes has his identity clock he’d be staking out the town now. So he chose to stick to the theory that Wes was incredibly smart, but cursed in some way.

However today Danny had posted a new video and Tim could barely wait to watch it. The title was called ‘This thing wont leave me alone.’ and the thumbnail showed a screaming Danny holding a broom with a humanism but clearly not human girl spiderman to his ceiling seemingly hissing at him.

Tim grinned as he pressed play and settled back into the couch to watch. As the intro came to an end it found Danny in the closet of his bedroom speaking into the camera as if he was documenting his last moments.

“Hello everyone and welcome back to my channel.” He whispered softly only stopping at a noise outside the door that sounded like nails scratching against something. “What the—” the chittering of a badger interrupted him to cover his curse. “Today I’m hiding in my closet because this demon thing showed up and won’t leave me alone.” Something being knocked over in the background was heard causing Danny to freeze again. “I am taking my stand though, I have my makeshift weapon and-and I’m gonna face it. In the event that I don’t come out of this alive, Tucker you can have my Doomed character, Sam just ask them out already, Val you can sell all my stuff, and Wes I’m sorry I gaslight everyone in school that one time into thinking you weren’t real.”

“That was—you Danny, oh you better hope you don’t survive after this!” Wes snapped from behind the camera, his curse being covered by bird chirps, and a second later Tucker’s head popped up from the bottom right screen.

“You’re focusing on that rather than the fact Danny said that all to the screen like we weren’t even here.” Danny shushed them all dramatically holding his broom in front of him like a weapon.

“It is time. Remember me views, remember me.”

“So—dramatic.” Sam is heard but not shown on camera, soon after Danny is shown bursting out of the closet startling the humanoid creature with white hair and bright neon green eyes.

Tim assumes the creature is one of their little siblings decked out in a creepy cosplay, a really creepy one that Sam definitely had to have a hand in making.

The girl immediately starts screeching and hissing at Danny who starts screaming back before starting to swat at her with the broom. Only for her to drop on all four and start crawling around to dodge him.

“Why won’t you stay still!!” Danny cried out as he panted slightly out of breath. The girl let out an evil cackle starting to crawl toward him and the others fast as he head began to turn to the point that it was upside down. Everything was silent before Danny began screaming hysterically while hitting the girl with the broom before she managed to jump on him and they began to fight. The video cut off right as the girl got a good hit on his nose, only to come back to Danny back in the closet with a bloody nose.

“You okay man?” Wes asked from behind the camera as Danny just stared dazed ahead. Danny turned to him, eyes unfocused as he stared at the camera.

“Do-do I call an exorcist? Do we have exorcists around us? Bro I have a demon in my house, and my parents who are ghost hunters can’t even detect it. What do I do?”

“Danny, I think she might have broken your Lego space shuttle.” Val was heard and seconds later Danny was shown back outside the closet in a screaming match with her while fist fighting and rolling all over the ground.

“THAT LEGO SET COST ME FOUR MONTHS ALLOWANCE!!”

“I’M GOING TO MAKE YOU REGRET BREAKING IT!”

“ALL I DID WAS HIT YOU WITH A BROOM!”

The girl seemed to be responding to him in either gibberish, or a language they created. Which only seemed to anger Danny more.

“ENGLISH! SPEAK ENGLISH!!” The girl paused, stopping herself from landing a solid punch to his cheek before grinning at the confused teen.

“No.” Danny seemed stunned before anger took over again and the fight continued.

“You can_____speaking english! You____daughter of a______!!” The feed cut off before returning to Danny who was sitting on the bed of his wrecked room. The girl in question nowhere to be seen as Val cleaned some blood off Danny's cheek with a grin.

“I don’t know where she went, but I know she is still in my house. Tune in next time I find her because she better have some money to pay me back for my lego set. Thanks for stopping to watch this episode of mine and until next time, don’t let the ghosts get ya.”

“That was pretty interesting.” Dick said as he stole a cookie from Tim’s plate. “Are all his videos like that?” Tim didn’t even blink at his brother's sudden appearance as he moved to type out a comment.

“For the most part, ya. He’s a shit poster, his content is just a tun of stuff that is so outrageous and realistic but clearly not real.”

‘That fight gave off peak sibling energy. It’s giving, I’m gonna fight my sibling to the death because of one slight inconvenience.’

Jason hummed as he picked his book back up, dropping down in front of the couch to reread Pride and Prejudice. “Ya he was definitely fighting his little sister. He held back too much and she wasn’t pulling her punches.”

“Only Drake would spend his time watching pointless videos.” Damien huffed, causing Tim to roll his eyes.

“Awe Dami, you know Tim is on mandatory rest. No work of any kind.” Dick grinned before jumping up, wrapping his arms around Damien and dragging him down onto the couch.

“Richard!! Let me go this instant!!” Damien screamed struggling to get away from his octopus of an older brother.

“No! I need my little brother cuddles and I need them from my Dami! No escape for you now.” Damian kept fighting Dick’s hold for the next twenty-five minutes while Tim put another of Danny’s videos on and rewatched it with Jason and Dick watching as well. The video in question was one where Danny went through a locker with his friends and went back in time to when his school first opened. Jason snorted, commenting on them making everything black and white. Danny meets a seemingly see-through kid named Sidney Poindexter and it ends with the two of them having a dance off.

“Bruce, why the fuck are your kids watching a video of a kid dancing with an Infinite Relams ghost?” Tim paused, staring blankly at his computer screen before turning to look at Bruce and John Constantine. “Wow holy shit, the Infinite Realms rarely interact with us since Luthor let the Anti-Ecto Acts pass. Yet that kid is interacting with one like their friends.”

“You’re saying this shits real?” Jason asked, closing his book looking at the screen more interested.

“Language Master Jason.” Alfred said as he walked in from a tray of tea for everyone.

“Sorry Alfred.” John nodded as he moved closer, eyes trained on Poindexter.

“If it is not real it is still more similar than could be possible. They’ve definitely had interactions with the Realms.”

“Wait, what are the Anti-Ecto Acts?” Tim asked his attention zeroing in on John.

“Well fuck, you don’t know? It affects like all of you, thought for sure you’d know. Shit this is gonna take so long to explain. We’re gonna have to call a JL meeting for this explanation because I’m not doing it twice.”

Of Meetings and Musings

#danny phantom aus #danny phantom #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc au #dp x dc #dp x dc fanfic #batman #tim drake #dc universe #dcxdp

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cybershock24601 · 1 month ago

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Imagining a Ingellvar who still on reflex does things like have their breakable things sufficiently anchored in case gravity changes and keeping important documents under things in case of blood rain and just having a whole bunch of quirks that they don't really think of as quirks just because they're things she grew up doing because she grew up in a place where reality's rules change and twists. The team tries to ask her why she does what she does. Her and Emmerich's explanations raise more questions than they answer.

Ingellvar having a bunch of weird little habits from growing up in the Necropolis that everyone just passes off as personal quirks until Emmrich shows up and does the same things and suddenly what everyone wrote off as weird quirks become a bit of a mystery. The team does ask about it but everyone's convinced that Ingellvar and Emmrich are fucking with them because what do you mean you always carry an umbrella around in case of blood rain??

At least everyone is convinced they're being messed with until they're accompanying Rook and Emmrich to the Necropolis and start to experience how fucking weird it is.

Harding is tagging along behind Rook and Emmrich and suddenly Emmrich vanishes out of thin air and Harding starts freaking out while Rook's all like "chill, it's just a Chronological Incontinence Incident. Emmrich will be fine" and Harding's like "What does that even mean???" and Rook starts to explain going full Watcher mode and by the time she's almost done Emmrich is back and it's all good though he does disagree with Rook's preferred theory behind the phenomena and they end up having a rather spirited debate on the subject while Harding is slowly losing her mind and also takes note that Rook really does talk different in the Necropolis.

Neve's helping Rook and Emmrich clear out some more Venatori that have snuck into the Necropolis and suddenly the gravity turns off and everyone starts floating. Rook and Emmrich barely pause in their spell slinging while everyone else is freaking out. Neve too is freaking out but does an admirable job of composing herself after she falls on her ass when she hits the ground while Rook and Emmrich nimbly land on their feet.

Davrin's trying to keep Assan from turning the bones lying around into chew toys when suddenly the room is submerged in total darkness and he suddenly gets an armful of freaked out baby griffin as Assan tries to climb his way up Davrin in a panic at being suddenly blinded. Or alternately Assan ends up going right to sleep like a bird, I'm not sure whether the bird side or the cat side would win out here. Either way while Davrin's wondering what the fuck is going on, Rook and Emmrich are being super chill about the whole experience because sudden unexplained darkness is not that uncommon in the Necropolis.

Lucanis is the lucky one who gets blood rained on. It starts out like little droplets of water which is strange enough because they're inside but the smell of iron is unmistakable and the red color is pretty unmistakably blood like and Lucanis barely gets out a very emphatic "what the fuck" before it suddenly starts pouring blood rain. Luckily Rook and Emmrich always carry an umbrella around so Lucanis gets to share with Rook. Bonus points for this being pretty early in their romance and Rook is swooning over how romantic it is to have a nice walk through the blood rain sharing an umbrella while Lucanis is Going Through It and experiencing the horrors of Necropolis. The fact that Rook and Emmrich are so unfazed about the fact that it is literally raining blood almost makes the situation worse.

Bellara is the one that handles the weirdness of the Necropolis the best because Arlathan Forest gets pretty freaky too. Remember the story about the guy stuck in the clouds? So while the Necropolis' shenanigans are generally creepier, she takes the weird shit in stride and is actually very interested on the why and how of why all the statues in the room suddenly started crying blood.

Taash is the only one to escape the madness because they nope the fuck out of ever going to the Necropolis once everyone starts mentioning the weird stuff that goes on there. Necromancy is already bad enough but they are not going to haunted super cemetery.

Because I am a fan of semi-sentient locations, the reason the Necropolis keeps acting up like this is because it's excited it's Crypt Baby is back and that excitement is manifesting in weird unexplained phenomena.

#rook #rook ingellvar #emmrich volkarin #bellara lutare #lace harding #davrin #taash #neve gallus #lucanis dellamorte #rookanis #just a little but i'm gonna tag it #dragon age #dragon age veilguard #datv #the necropolis #mourn watch #the mourn watch

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irrelevantlostie · 3 months ago

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So I was (jokingly) kicking this idea around in my head of Stolitz having an in-universe fan following, just because I think it would be a very funny and meta thing to have happen, but the more I thought about it the more I realized maybe it’s not such a ridiculous idea. In fact, the show has now set us up perfectly to go down this route, and here’s why:

After the trial, Stolas and Blitz are now both pretty famous and people are paying attention to them. Blitz in particular now has a lot of fans among imp-kind. So if Stolas keeps hanging around him and Blitz keeps defending him, people are going to notice.

They’re going to start wondering why Blitz is defending him when in their eyes, Stolas is the bad guy who used him for his own nefarious purposes. They basically hate Stolas on Blitz’s behalf (and on the behalf of all other imps who have been used by royals).

So, naturally, people will start to theorize.

“OMG, what if Stolas actually did that to sacrifice himself for Blitz??”

“Dude, no way! You and your conspiracy theories…”

“But they’re seen together like all the time! I heard the bird lives with him now!”

“That’s crazy. If that’s true he must have some kind of Stockholm Syndrome, poor guy.”

And you know people are suckers for a good enemies to lovers story, so, you know, that.

So they will run away with this idea that maybe there’s more to this story, people believe that they’re actually a couple and it was all for true love, people will WANT this to be true, and there you go. Stolitz.

They already did this with Fizzmodeus and I thought the scene in Mammon’s where everyone was going crazy over them on social media was hilarious.

Also, something I don’t see many people talking about is did they livestream the part where Stolas was chained up and Blitz was literally screaming for him not to do this and trying to save him? Because I feel like if they did, it would only add more fuel to the fire of the idea that they’re not getting the whole story.

Anyway, just some food for thought.

TL;DR: possibility of in-universe shipping shenanigans

#stolitz #helluva boss #blitzø #stolas #stolas goetia #blitzo buckzo #fizzmodeus #if the term ‘Stolitz’ becomes canon within the show I might actually die lol #theories #predictions?#helluva boss prediction #unserious #does this count as crack?#idk I just think it would be funny

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chiyuuchu · 7 months ago

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II. The plot twist of admiration <3 (2nd August 2024)

Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Prompt! The class decides to make a bet with everyone writing down who they think y/n’s admirer is.

first part here!

Every story has two sides to it.

Bakugou Katsuki wasn't one to waste time on frivolous matters like romance. He had better things to do, like becoming the number one hero. But there was something about Y/N that made him act differently. Without really understanding why, he found himself wanting to make her smile, to see her happy. So, he started leaving gifts on her desk: flowers, sweets, her favorite drinks.

He watched from a distance, making sure no one noticed him. He didn't need the extra attention or the questions from his classmates. Plus, it was kind of fun seeing them guess who the secret admirer was.

“Maybe it’s Midoriya,” Mina said one day during lunch. Bakugou rolled his eyes. Of course, they'd think it was Deku. “He’s so attentive and always pays attention to what his friends like.”

Bakugou scoffed internally. Deku might be observant, but he wasn’t the one leaving the gifts. Besides, Bakugou knew exactly what Y/N liked because he paid attention, too. He wasn’t just some explosive hothead, no matter what people thought.

“I don’t know,” Tsuyu said thoughtfully. “It could be Kirishima. He seems like a romantic guy.”

Bakugou almost laughed out loud at that. Sure, Kirishima was his best friend, but he wasn’t the one sneaking around. And IcyHot? The guy was about as emotionally expressive as a block of ice. He was also certainly sure the bird brain was too kept to self to like someone.

As days went by, Bakugou continued to leave gifts. He saw Y/N's smile every time she found something new on her desk, and it made his heart swell in a way he didn’t quite understand. One evening, he went to the convenience store to get her favorite drink. When he returned to the dorms, he saw Y/N in the kitchen, looking frustrated.

“What’s got you all worked up?” he asked, trying to keep his tone casual.

“Someone must have taken my favorite drink. I was really looking forward to it.,” she sighed.

He scoffed, pulling the drink out of his plastic bag. “Here. I just bought a few. Don’t make such a fuss.” he said, tossing it to her. Before she could say anything. Bakugou just takes his leave with a huff. “Whatever. I’m outta here.”

When he reached his bedroom, he immediately covered his face. The heat which had rushed to his face earlier swallowed him whole. His heart was pounding.

The next day, he left another gift on her desk. This time, it was a box of her favorite pastries. He'd gone out of his way to get them from a bakery across town. Bakugou watched from a distance, smirking to himself as Y/N smiled.

During lunch, the girls were really pushing their theories about who it could be.

“It’s gotta be someone who’s been paying close attention,” Mina says, thinking maybe too hard. “Maybe it’s still Midoriya?”

“Or Kirishima,” Momo claimed. “What if the other day he said it wasn’t him was an act.”

“Or Todoroki,” Kirishima chuckled heartily. “He’s always so polite and thoughtful.”

“Or maybe Sero,” said Hagakure. “He could be into you, who knows.”

Bakugou couldn't help but roll his eyes again. It was almost laughable how off their guesses were. As Y/N's smile grew wider with each gift, he felt a strange sense of satisfaction. He wanted to be the one who made her happy, even if he had to do it from the shadows.

While Y/n slowly looks over and locks eyes with Bakugou, he couldn’t help but give her his genuine smile. A smile that was only for her.

Bakugou continued his secret gifting for another week, each time feeling a mix of pride and frustration. One evening, after another exhausting day of training, he was about to head back to his dorm room when he noticed Y/N sitting alone on the couch in the common area, looking contemplative. He hesitated for a moment, then decided to approach her.

"Hey," he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Y/N looked up, her face lighting up with a smile. "Hey, Bakugou."

He sat down next to her, unsure of what to say next. They sat in silence for a few moments before Y/N spoke again.

"You know," she began, her voice soft, "I've been getting these really sweet gifts lately. Flowers, sweets, drinks... It's been really nice."

Bakugou's heart pounded in his chest. He tried to keep his expression neutral. "Yeah? You figure out who it is yet?"

Y/N shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "Not yet. But I think I have an idea."

Bakugou felt a lump form in his throat. He wanted to tell her, to admit that it was him, but the words seemed to stick. Before he could muster up the courage, Y/N turned to him, her eyes bright with curiosity.

"What about you, Bakugou? Have you ever done something like this for someone?"

He snorted, trying to deflect. "What, leave gifts and play secret admirer? Not my style."

Y/N laughed softly. "I didn't think so. But you never know. People can surprise you."

She definitely knows. He gulped internally.

Bakugou swallowed hard, feeling a surge of determination. "Yeah, well... maybe I have a few surprises up my sleeve."

Y/N tilted her head, studying him with an amused expression. "Is that so?"

Her phone began ringing. “Oh, I gotta take this call. Thanks for the chat, Bakugou.” She smiled and walked away.

Before Bakugou could respond, a loud crash came from the kitchen area, followed by Kirishima's voice shouting about a spilled pot.

As she walked away, Bakugou watched her go, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment. He knew he needed to find the right moment, but it was hard to say when that would be. He stood up, ready to head to his room, when Kirishima came rushing over, a huge grin on his face.

"Dude, guess what!" Kirishima exclaimed. "Everyone's trying to figure out who Y/N's secret admirer is. You gotta see this."

Bakugou rolled his eyes but followed Kirishima back to the Kitchen area, where a group of their classmates were gathered, excitedly discussing their theories.

"I'm telling you, it's got to be Todoroki," Hagakure was saying. "He's always so calm and collected. It fits."

"No way," Kaminari argued. "It's definitely Tokoyami. He's mysterious enough to pull this off."

“What the hell is everyone making a fuss about?” Bakugou grumbled.

“Oh! Hey man, we were just placing bets on who Y/n’s secret admirer could be.” Kaminari casually said. “My bets on Tokoyami.” He proudly claimed. And why exactly was he proud of his assumption?

“Well I think it’s Midoriya!” Mina folded her arms with an angry closed eyed pout.

Momo also chimed in. “I still think that it’s Kirishima and that he’s secretly deceiving us that it isn’t him.” Kirishima who was beside her folded his arms. “Hey! It isn’t me, you’ll lose your money for betting on it!” He, once again defended himself.

“What if it was a girl and we were deceived the entire time.” Jirou randomly put a a finger to her chin, looking up in thought. “Hmm.” She hummed in thought. Right after that, everyone did the same with putting their finger on their chins and humming in thought.

“I know! We should settle this bet by asking everyone to write down on this paper who they think it is. Winner takes all.” Kaminari smugly said, pulling a piece of paper out.

“Oh, you’re on pikachu!” Mina retorted.

Bakugou mentally wanted to facepalm. But then he thought about it. If he were to guess himself then wouldn’t he technically be the winner of the bet?

“Whatever, you losers do what you fucking want.” Bakugou said and walked back to his room. “Hey! Where you going? You need to bet too!” Kaminari exclaimed. “Yeah yeah, just give it to me tomorrow. I need to catch some fucking sleep.” Was the last thing Bakugou said before heading back to his room.

The next morning, the classroom was full with chatter during a break between lessons. Kaminari, ever the instigator, was bouncing around with a piece of paper and a pen.

"Alright, guys, everyone write down who you think Y/N's secret admirer is! Everyone is betting! Winner takes all!" he announced, waving the paper in the air.

Y/n just gave a confused expression before going back to her book.

One by one, the students scribbled down their guesses and passed the paper around. When it finally reached Bakugou, he glanced at the eager faces around him and scowled.

"I'll do it later," he muttered, snatching the paper and shoving it into his bag.

"Aw, come on, Bakugou!" Kaminari protested. "Just write it down real quick!"

Bakugou ignored him, standing up and heading out of the classroom as the bell rang, signaling the end of their break. Kaminari pouted but didn't push further, knowing better than to press Bakugou when he was in a mood.

Later that evening, Bakugou sat in his dorm room, the crumpled piece of paper lying on his desk. He sighed, unfolding it and smoothing it out to see the various guesses scrawled in different handwriting.

He couldn't help but scoff at some of the guesses.

Uraraka: "I bet it's Sero. He’s always pulling pranks but he's got a sweet side."

Todoroki: "Maybe it's Kirishima. He’s very straightforward."

Kirishima: "Nah, it's gotta be Midoriya. He's so considerate."

Midoriya: "My best guess would be Kirishima… He definitely seems like that type of guy."

Yaoyorozu: "I still think it's Kirishima."

Ashido: "I know it’s Midoriya."

Tsu: "I change my mind, I’m placing my bet on Kaminari."

Jirou: "I guess it might be Kaminari. He’s got a fun personality and is always trying to cheer everyone up."

Aoyama: "It could be Iida. Je sais cela!"

Sero: "Maybe it's Shoji. He's very attentive and protective."

Tokoyami: "I assume it might be Todoroki. He's very observant and quiet."

Hagakure: "My bet is still on Todoroki!"

Iida: "I believe it's Kaminari. He’s always energetic and caring."

Shoji: "It might be Iida."

Ojiro: "I think it could be Aoyama. He’s always trying to make everyone feel special."

Koda: "I think it’s Midoriya..."

Mineta: "It's definitely someone unexpected, maybe Jirou. She's got that vibe. And who knows? Girls on girls!"

Sato: "What if it's Mina? She's really unpredictable."

Kaminari: "I still think it's Tokoyami! Imagine that!"

Aizawa: "Bakugou Katsuki."

Even the teacher???

Bakugou paused at Aizawa’s guess, feeling a strange mix of annoyance and satisfaction.

"Idiots," he muttered to himself. "They have no idea."

Aggressively scribbling on the piece of paper, he carelessly folds it.

But as he lay in bed that night, his thoughts drifted to Y/N. He imagined the smile on her face when she received his gifts and how her eyes sparkled when she spoke about them. It gave him a strange sense of accomplishment that none of his training victories ever did.

The next day in class, Kaminari eagerly retrieved the paper from Bakugou and prepared to read the guesses. However, just as he was about to open it, everyone began to question how they would find out who the admirer really was.

"How are we actually gonna figure out who it is?" Midoriya asked, looking around the room.

Suddenly, Mina stood up and yelled, "Whoever the admirer is, you have to come clean now because we've all placed bets already, and I'm sure Y/N is interested."

Silence. Everyone was looking at each other, trying to see if the admirer would step up.

Bakugou gulped, feeling a surge of panic.

Then Hagakure made a suggestion. "Why don't we make it more fun? Y/N should write down on another piece of paper who she wants her admirer to be."

For some reason, Y/N agreed willingly. She took a piece of paper and began to write a name. Bakugou watched her, rethinking his life decisions. If he admitted his feelings now and wasn't the one she wanted, he would never live it down.

Y/N finished writing, folded the paper, and kept it to herself.

“Wait I have an idea!” Tsu said and whispered something into Mina’s ear.

"Alright then," Mina said with determination. "Everyone who is NOT the admirer, sit down."

Slowly, one by one, the students sat down until only Bakugou remained standing with his eyes shut tight.

The room filled with gasps and murmurs of confusion.

"Bakugou?!" Kaminari exclaimed, wide-eyed.

“KACCHAN??” Izuku exclaimed.

"No way," Kirishima muttered, shaking his head. "Bakugou, seriously?"

"I lost my bet!" Sero groaned, throwing his hands up in the air.

"Wait, Bakugou's the secret admirer?" Uraraka asked, her eyes darting between him and Y/N.

Jirou smirked. "Well, this just got interesting."

“I certainly did not expect this..” Momo’s voice sounded.

Some students complained about losing their bets, while others were simply shocked. Bakugou's heart pounded in his chest. After a moment of silence, he heard the sound of a paper unfolding.

More gasps filled the room.

"You can open your eyes, Bakugou," Y/N said softly.

Bakugou's heart sank. What if his name wasn't on the paper?

He opened his eyes and saw Y/N holding the paper.

Bakugou Katsuki

His heart soared when he saw his name written on it. A wave of relief and happiness washed over him as the class erupted in a mix of congratulations and disbelief. He had never been this terrified in his life, but it was all worth it.

“Very unexpected, I must say.” Iida said.

"Well, who would've thought?" Mina laughed, nudging Kirishima.

"Guess we all underestimated Bakugou," Tokoyami said with a rare smile.

"Congrats, man," Kirishima said, patting Bakugou on the back. "Took some real guts."

Bakugou, his face slightly flushed, just nodded, trying to maintain his usual tough demeanor. But inside, he was over the moon.

“Wait! It’s not over! Who won the bet?” Sero yelled, immediately grabbing everyone’s attention.

Kaminari hurriedly opens the paper.

Uraraka: "I bet it's Sero. He’s always pulling pranks but he's got a sweet side."

Todoroki: "Maybe it's Kirishima. He’s very straightforward."

Kirishima: "Nah, it's gotta be Midoriya. He's so considerate."

Midoriya: "My best guess would be Kirishima… He definitely seems like that type of guy."

Yaoyorozu: "I still think it's Kirishima."

Ashido: "I know it’s Midoriya."

Tsu: "I change my mind, I’m placing my bet on Kaminari."

Jirou: "I guess it might be Kaminari. He’s got a fun personality and is always trying to cheer everyone up."

Aoyama: "It could be Iida. Je sais cela!"

Sero: "Maybe it's Shoji. He's very attentive and protective."

Tokoyami: "I assume it might be Todoroki. He's very observant and quiet."

Hagakure: "My bet is still on Todoroki!"

Iida: "I believe it's Kaminari. He’s always energetic and caring."

Shoji: "It might be Iida."

Ojiro: "I think it could be Aoyama. He’s always trying to make everyone feel special."

Koda: "I think it’s Midoriya..."

Mineta: "It's definitely someone unexpected, maybe Jirou. She's got that vibe. And who knows? Girls on girls!"

Sato: "What if it's Mina? She's really unpredictable."

Kaminari: "I still think it's Tokoyami! Imagine that!"

Aizawa: "Bakugou Katsuki.”

Bakugou: "Bakugou Katsuki."

“Bakugou won? Isn’t that technically cheating..” Momo said with a concerned look.

“Technically that means I won. Now pay up.” Aizawa said from his sleeping bag.

“Ughhhhhhhhh.”

After the class settled down from the surprising outcome, Bakugou found a moment to approach Y/N. He was still trying to process the whirlwind of emotions from the earlier scene.

"Hey," he started, his voice gruff but softer than usual. "Can we talk?"

Y/N looked up and smiled. "Sure, Bakugou. What's up?"

He led her outside of the classroom, away from the curious gazes of their classmates. The tension between them was palpable, but Bakugou tried to ignore the nervous flutter in his chest.

"So, you actually picked me," he said, struggling to keep his usual confident tone. "Why?"

Y/N’s eyes softened as she looked at him. "Well, I've always noticed you’re not as rough as you seem. There’s a lot more to you that people don't see. I appreciate that you always seemed to care, even if you don’t show it."

Bakugou’s face flushed slightly, and he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Yeah, well, I didn’t think you’d ever actually like me. Not with how everyone talks about me."

Y/N shook her head, a playful smile on her lips. "You’re more than what people say, Bakugou. And I’m glad I got to know that."

Bakugou hesitated for a moment before stepping a bit closer. "So, what now? Now that everyone knows?"

Y/N's smile grew, and she looked up at him with a twinkle in her eye. "I think we should see where this goes. I’m happy with how things are turning out."

Bakugou’s usual scowl softened into a genuine smile, and he took a deep breath. "Yeah, me too."

They stood there for a moment, the noise of the classroom fading into the background as they enjoyed the rare, peaceful connection between them. It was the start of something new, and for once, Bakugou felt that he might just be ready to embrace it.

#bnha x reader #bnha #bnha fluff #mha #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou fluff #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #katsuki x reader #katsuki x y/n

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illmoraineakoi · 3 months ago

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Theory: The Newgrounds attack takes place On October 2nd, immediately after Dark and Chosen escape.

I’ve touched upon how I think the Timeline is a little wonky in this regard before, but I just couldn’t stop thinking about it.

And I think I’ve figured it out.

When Victim first escapes Alan’s PC, he first goes to Yahoo.

I even made a joke about it in my last post, about how Alan’s taken the piss out of Yahoo before.

But, well, that previous time?

The Flashback.

But moreso: Yahoo is the first thing Chosen and Dark are shown attacking during the Flashback.

Both Victim AND Chosen and Dark end up at Yahoo after they escape.

And there might be a reason for it:

Alan’s PC was originally tethered to Yahoo. [It also seemed to have an offshoot connection to MSN, which it took me an hour to identify that logo as I was unfamiliar with it.] That was the primary webstring (tunnel, but I wanna call them webstrings bc world wide web) to his IP box. And His IP only originally has one webstring coming out of it.

Until Victim does...Whatever THIS is. And causes ALL OF THE IP addresses to become tethered to the Outernet directly.

[Victim not being uploaded anywhere and coming directly from a PC in a rocket made of computer program parts might have significance on why the Barrier became connected to the IP Boxes, but that’s a different theory for another day.]

So currently, Alan’s PC has two connections to it: One that leads to Yahoo/MSN, and another that leads directly to the Outernet.

We all assumed that Chosen and Dark went right to the Outernet when they left his old PC, because it was implied that that tunnel was the same one Chosen had COME from and that he and the Color Gang were currently going through; a webstring that does spit them out into the Outernet.

But they didn’t.

Dark and Chosen did not go through the Outernet webstring.

They went to through the YAHOO webstring.

I refuse to believe it’s a coincidence that they ended up on Yahoo first, or just happened to choose to attack Yahoo first, when Yahoo is shown to be directly connected to Alan’s IP box.

They never went to the Outernet. They went from Alan’s PC DIRECTLY TO Yahoo.

Which means that the first part of the Flashback is showing the events of what Chosen and Dark did IMMEDIATELY after they escaped.

Yahoo was the first place they were spit out into, so they decided to destroy it too. Why not? They just literally got done destroying Alan’s computer, why not wreck more human shit?

Victim and Chosen/Dark’s paths differ after Yahoo.

Victim goes to Runescape, then Myspace, to the Singh Family IP Box, where he crashes out of and into GracesPC, where he’s taken to Newgrounds, and then he crashes into the Outernet.

Chosen and Dark, if the Flashback showed their complete journey, went from Yahoo, to Angry Birds, to StickPage, to Newgrounds.

The websites are shown to have dozens, if not hundreds of webstrings attached to them. Each leading to different places: other websites, other programs, other IP Boxes.

It’s totally possible that Dark and Chosen just went through a different webstring than Victim did to end up at Angry Birds instead, especially if they stopped to destroy Yahoo. Victim just made a (somewhat straight) shot through. But they could have just picked an exit at random.

I made a diagram for it:

It this theory is true, then it implies that StickPage is the first time both Dark and Chosen are seeing other living stick figures besides each other.

And that some HUGE implications.

Do Chosen and Dark realize what they’re doing, when they’re attacking stick figures?

Do they understand that other sticks are alive like them? That other sticks can be hurt, that they can feel pain? Do Chosen and Dark have a concept of death? Do they even realize they’re causing death to the sticks they’re attacking?

Dark was literally just created THAT DAY. How much does he know? How much does he understand?

How much knowledge does a stick figure possess, innately, when they’re created?

Chosen has been alive for 4 and a half years, but he’d been imprisoned and enslaved. He’d never seen another stick figure before Dark. All he knew was fighting, being forced to destroy pop-ups, and trying to escape. Does HE know the nature of other living things? Does HE know how to behave towards others of his kind? Does HE understand the concept of death?

Dark was made to kill Chosen, and the first moments of his life were spent attempting to fulfill that purpose. And then he went immediately into destroying the computer. And then immediately into destroying websites.

Dark had nothing to teach him that wanton destruction and mass murder wasn’t okay to do. He and Chosen simply did them, and he found he liked doing them. He didn’t have a moral compass to tell him it was wrong, and he didn’t have the opportunity to properly develop one. There was no resistance to prevent him from becoming a psychopath who enjoyed hurting and killing other living beings.

Because Chosen certainly wasn’t stopping him. Not yet, at any rate.

But Chosen...Chosen was older. Chosen had experienced different things from Dark. Chosen probably experienced pain and fear at Alan’s hands. (Victim’s backstory has got me fully doubting that Chosen was just left to twiddle his thumbs when he wasn’t being used as a pop-up blocker. Alan hurt Chosen too. Chosen just probably never died from it.) Was that enough to give him the basis for a sense of morality? Enough to instill him with the ability to empathize?

Is that why Chosen pauses, when Mitsi dies? Is he starting to realize the full consequences of their actions? That they’re killing sticks?

Or does none of this even matter? Was Dark made from the start to be an evil psychopath and that’s why he is the way he is? Was Chosen made ‘normal’ and simply chose to be an asshole because he was angry?

How much of it is their nature vs their lack of life experience?

This might be the reason why Chosen is participating in the Newgrounds attack. It’s so early into HIS life that he hasn’t had those changes to his morals yet. This might be the START of that change. The instigating event. The things that start causing him doubt his own actions, that eventually blooms into distaste and guilt. That eventually allows him to see that Dark’s behavior isn’t right.

That allows him to recognize his own behavior isn’t right.

The Flashback attacks have set in motion the divide between them on what their characters eventually become: Chosen develops a sense of morality, Dark does not.

Both the party and the Flashback attacks are happening on October 2nd, 2011, mere hours after Chosen and Dark have escaped.

There IS one potential snag to this theory, and that's the escape portal.

And that is, admittedly, a massive one.

That LOOKS like a Chosen-made portal. It even makes the same sounds as the ones in The Virus and The Chosen One Returns did.

But we never see nor hear what a 'normal' entrances/exit to a website looks like. We see Victim exiting them in side profile, not as they look from the surface level.

It's very possible that Chosen is just opening up the entrance into a webstring when he makes his portals.

The webstring to the Outernet already exists. He's not MAKING a connection, just opening a door.

And a webstring from Newgrounds to the Outernet ALSO already exists.

That's what I think the escape portal is, this webstring that was made when Victim fundamentally changed the entire fabric of digital reality by complete accident. Dude had a busy day that day.

Honestly, I don't think even The Chosen One has the ability to MAKE webstrings. They seem like they're fundamental connections across the internet that had been pretty well established before Victim did his thing. And that was a MASSIVE amount of energy that was released to create those new webstrings.

The entire way the internet digital space works feels very cosmic to me. Like some massive inspiration was taken from the universe in it's design. The IP Boxes look like stars, the websites planets, and they sheer nothingness in between feels like a vacuum.

I don't think it's IMPOSSIBLE to make new webstrings [I actually theorize Dark figured out how to do so with the cliff side portals] just...

Beyond Chosen's ability to do so himself.

Hence: the webstring between Newgrounds and the Outernet.

The wobbly weird-sounded hole in the ground might just be what they look like naturally. Or someone else opened it. We have no confirmation that's an ability unique to Chosen.

So that's my theory. Chosen and Dark never went to the Outernet before they started their rampage. They rampaged, and THEN probably went to the Outernet.

Where they probably got stuck, for at least a little bit. Cuz, y'know, the Sky Barrier is solid. (Also hey Signh Family IP)

#alan becker #animator vs animation #ava #ava11 #spoilers #Illmoraine theorizes #ava the chosen one #ava the dark lord #ava victim #The Outernet

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lovecanyon · 9 months ago

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MIKE FAIST X Y/N: A SOCIAL MEDIA AU

part one

➙ y/n works under A24 as a production assistant. she’s worked on films such as Pearl, X, Lady Bird, Hereditary and most recently Challengers where she met her partner Mike Faist.

(A24 didn’t produce Challengers but in this situation they did)

TMZ

Mike Faist Spotted in Los Angeles with Mystery Girl: Fans Buzz Over Actor’s New Romance

Mike Faist, the breakout star from "Challengers," was recently seen in Los Angeles with an unidentified woman, sparking a flurry of speculation among his fans. The actor appeared relaxed and happy as he enjoyed a casual outing.

As photos of the pair began circulating online, Faist's fans took to social media, attempting to uncover the identity of the girl who has seemingly captured the heart of the beloved star. Twitter and Instagram were lit with theories, with some fans speculating that she might be a fellow actor or someone from Faist’s inner circle. Despite their best detective efforts, no concrete information has surfaced about the mystery girl.

READ MORE!

liked by faistfan12, user68 and 10,109

faistupdates Mike Faist in Los Angeles last night!

view all comments

faistfan45 who’s that girl???

user202 we can barley see him 😭😭 was this taken on a microwave

user30 give mike some privacy omg

faistfan112 that man hates the paparazzi leave him aloneeee

faistfan40 i think he’s with his girlfriend

TWITTER:

💫 mike faist (future oscar winner) - @faistfever

omg…tell me why my sister just saw mike and his girlfriend 😭😭

1:53 PM 6/4/2024 From Earth

↳ sammy <3 - @ooconnorstar

ARE U LYING??? HELLOOO

1:54 PM 6/4/2024 From Earth

↳ 💫 mike faist (future tony winner) - @faistfever

NO. THEY WERE LITERALLY AT A CAFE TOGETHER. LOOKKK

[photo of mike & y/n holding hands at a cafe]

1:57 PM 6/4/2024 From Earth

↳ sammy <3 - @ooconnorstar

I PLANNED THIS!!! MIKE’S BOYFRIEND ERA

[olivia wilde nodding gif]

1:58 PM 6/4/2024 From Earth

liked by user178, faistfan44 and 15,920 others

pagesix Mike Faist and his rumored girlfriend were seen in Los Angeles yesterday having lunch together. Sources tell us that they could not stop staring at each other and kept holding hands across their table.

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faistfan78 MIKE IS IN HIS BOYFRIEND ERA OMFG

user116 my man who doesn’t know he’s my man is TAKEN??!! 😟

faistfan51 that’s literally me? what are you talking about?

user26 SHE IS SO LUCKY, WHOEVER SHE IS

faistfan99 i think she worked on the set of challengers with mike? i might be wrong idk

liked by faistfan66, faistfan143 and 102,110 others

deuxmoi DeuxMoi Exclusive: The Truth Behind Mike Faist and Y/N L/N’s Love Story Unveiled!

We’ve got the inside scoop on Hollywood's newest power couple! Sources have spilled the beans that Mike Faist, the star of "Challengers," and the mystery girl who has been revealed as Y/N L/N, a production assistant under A24, are officially an item. But wait, it gets even juicier!

Y/N, whose impressive resume includes work on several A24 hits like “Pearl,” “X,” and “Lady Bird,” first crossed paths with Mike on the set of “Challengers.” It was he who reportedly made the bold first move, sparking what would soon blossom into a full blown romance.

While both have maintained a level of privacy when it comes to their personal lives, insiders insist that Mike and Y/N are in it for the long haul.

view all comments

faistfan63 leave this poor girl alone

user21 HER AND MIKE MAKE SUCH A CUTE COUPLE

fan112 he could do better tbh

faistfan87 you are insane and crazy

user73 i hope none of his fans attack her now…

faistfan125 y/n is drop dead gorgeous 😭

user104 ohhh she’s so successful omggg

DEUXMOI - 6/5/2024

Sent via form submission from Deuxmoi

Pseudonyms, please: ANON

Email: [email protected]

Subject: A24’s Iconic Couple

Message: Fans have been dying to know whose Mike’s mystery girl is and now we know! Y/N has worked on some major A24 hits like "Pearl," "Hereditary," and "Lady Bird." Looks like Mike was the one who made the first move and they've been inseparable ever since.

DEUXMOI - 6/8/2024 - SPOTTED

Saw Mike and his girlfriend at a pilates class today! He is definitely in love with her, they kept laughing and grinning at each other. He also gave her his sweater after the class!!

TIKTOK:

faistangels: she is so gorgeous, i am blown away 😭😭

comments:

joshofaist i don’t know if i need mike or her

7.1K likes

artsdonaldsins AND SHE WAS A THEATRE KID…MIKE REALLY FOUND HIS MATCH 🙏🙏

6.5K likes

dayaconnor y/n is so cool omg

6.2K likes

mikesendaya i will defend her with my heart

5.9K likes

liked by faistfan89, user106 and 10,729 others

mikefaistdaily A new photo resurfaced of Mike Faist’s girlfriend Y/N wearing a ‘I Told Ya’ shirt from the film Challengers.

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user53 OMGG she is so gorgeous

faistfan12 fans literally leaked her instagram photos. pls take this down.

faistfan62 people need to leave her alone, she’s just trying to live…

user73 y/n is so iconic goodbye

faistfan206 “resurfaced” or leaked??

user122 SHE IS THE MOMENT 💅

liked by user12, faistfan57 and 12,120 others

m.faistnews NEW/OLD! Mike on the set of Challengers! via yourinstagram

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user88 SOMEONE SEDATE ME

faistfan102 just imagine all the other pics of mike y/n has in her phone 😭😭

user106 DON’T LET ME THINK OF THAT

user29 y/n is really living that dream life

faistfan101 wanna be her so bad

user33 she’s just riding on mike’s fame…

faistfan64 girl be serious 🙄🙄

liked by user165, faistfan78 and 8,401 others

faistojosh Y/N has removed followers after her photos on Instagram got leaked!

view all comments

user60 please leave this girl alone…we don’t know her

faistfan66 i’m sorry but y/n leaving dailyfaist as one of her followers has me 😭😭

dailyfaist THAT’S BESTIE!! me and her are like this 🤞

faistfan153 i just know mike knows your account exists!!

dailyfaist I NEED A CIGARETTE

user121 posting this is just bringing more attention to it…

(1/10)

liked by treaclychild, hunterschafer and 402,763 others

rachelzegler it’s hot girl summer

view all comments

faistfan15 RACHEL AND Y/N KNOW EACH OTHER??!

faistfan132 mike probably introduced them omgg

arianadebose Literally the love of my life 🩷

user101 attention seekingggg

ayoedebiri I love women!!!

faistfan212 y/n literally wants approval from all of mike’s friends 😭

rachelzegler mike would absolutely hate you btw!!! get a life

faistfan170 RACHEL DEFENDING Y/N 🙏🙏 I LOVE TO SEE IT

liked by faistfan53, user202 and 16,091 others

mike.faistnews Y/N’s IG post about Mike’s first Met Gala! 🤍

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user107 SOMEONE KILL ME PLS THIS IS NOT OKAY

faistfan66 baby’s first met 😭😭😭

faistfan117 is this why mike didn’t go to the after party…y/n was back at the hotel so he skipped the party to hang out with her…😩

user61 he is so obsessed with her

faistfan133 every mike faist fan was found dead

user99 they are so adorable

faistfan145 the way this post was not meant to see the light of day

liked by rachelzegler, hunterschafer and 151 others

yourinstagram mikey ♑️

view all comments

daisyedgarjones You two are the cutest

arianadebose I LOVE YOU GUYSS 🤍🤍🤍

yourinstagram we love you ari!

rachelzegler you guys are seriously my parents

joshographee Looks like he died.

yourinstagram that’s what he said lol

tomholland2013 Me and Z say hiii!!

TWITTER:

lea 🎾 - @mmfaistss

y/n met his family omg

[fan photo of y/n with his family out having dinner in ohio]

6:01 PM 6/11/24 From Earth

↳ 💫 mike faist (future oscar winner) - @faistfever

god i hope so. FUTURE Y/N FAIST

6:10 PM 6/11/24 From Earth

---

gossip girl - @ggirltea

Deuxmoi said Mike has Y/N as his lockscreen 😍

[fan photo of mike’s phone lockscreen]

7:20 PM 6/12/24 From Earth

↳ film junkie - @moviemadnessss

they’re seriously the cutest.

7:25 PM 6/12/24 From Earth

---

blind item sleuth - @blindsolvers

Deuxmoi hinted at Y/N and Mike buying a house in Ohio together soon 👀 they are taking things real serious!

8:00 PM 6/14/24 From Earth

↳ drama queen - @dramaalertts

omg if it’s true i will cry! they’re perfect for each other!

8:05 PM 6/14/24 From Earth

---

pop culture guru - @popculturedailyss

UPDATE: Y/N and Mike seen holding hands in Los Angeles again today

[paparazzi photo of Y/N and Mike]

9:15 PM 6/15/24 From Earth

↳ fan girl - @fangirlss4ev

I’m here for the Mike and Y/N romance era!!!!

9:25 PM 6/15/24 From Earth

---

hollywood whisperer - @hollywoodwhisp

DM confirmed Mike Faist met Y/N’s family last weekend 💕

[family photo of Mike and Y/N]

10:00 PM 6/16/24 From Earth

↳ star gazer - @stargazingfan

meeting the family already?! this is definitely getting serious 😭😭

10:05 PM 6/16/24 From Earth

↳ celebrity updates - @celebritybuzz

they’re totally endgame!!!! future Mr. and Mrs. Faist!

10:10 PM 6/16/24 From Earth

---

tag list: @harrysmatcha @harryspinkpillow @helen-with-an-a @florencepughily @peterparkerbae @toji-dabi-wife @fallonx @drphilssoulmate @cherriesrae @alienorknight @valluvsu @ayeshathestyles @hazgoldenstyles @tsukishimawhore @renatavieira @michellekstyles @eleanordaisy @shawnsblue @agustdpeach @whoscamila @ch3rryrry @msolbesg @youusunshineyoutemptress @cherryfragrancx @milkiane @golden-hoax @sunshinemendes8 @your--sweetest--downfall @melllinaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @stellarossii @scenesofobx @manifestrry @lomlolivia @honethatty12

875 notes · View notes

thatbloodymuggle · 7 months ago

Text

MASTERMIND (iii)

THREE - COLOR THEORY

SUMMARY: A child of light and dark, you are the Night Court’s best kept secret. After decades spent in hiding, you yearn to stretch your wings. But you quickly learn that freedom comes with a price, as you find yourself trying to outfox the fox in his own den.

PAIRING: eris vanserra x reader

WORD COUNT: 11.5k

SERIES MASTERLIST

WARNINGS: language, descriptions of violence, smut, oral (m receiving), thigh humping, fingering

You have always wondered if being born from Light and Dark was a blessing, or a curse. On one hand, it has granted you the ability to navigate life’s morally gray areas; to question everything and listen to opposing thoughts and ideologies. But on the other hand, your existence was born from a violent affair—and you can’t help but wonder if that Dark inevitably lives within you, shielded by the Light.

Right now, more than ever, you believe the latter may be true.

It’s been three days. Three days since you woke up to an empty bed beneath you and guilt weighing heavy atop. Three days since you self-sabotaged your entire mission. Three days since you reveled in the comfort of your enemy’s arms.

You thought the regret would be at its worst the morning after; you figured it would pass with time. But with each day, each hour, each minute that ticks by, breathing becomes just a little bit harder. You can’t even find peace in sleep; not when you are kept awake by images of Eris’s lust-filled gaze and the inevitable heartbreak on Mor’s face. If your own self-stirred panic isn’t enough, you also have the note that Eris left atop his empty pillow to worry about:

I apologize for leaving so soon, Little Bird, but I have some business to attend to. Do write back when you’d like to take a tour of the library. Don’t miss me too much.

The bastard left the proverbial ball in your court. Typically, you like being in control. But with your current frenzied mental state, the last thing you need is yet another convoluted layer to worry about.

Needless to say, you are about one misstep from exploding.

The crackling embers of the fireplace in your cabin stare back at you tauntingly. You hover your hands over the orange flames, letting the heat tickle your skin until the burning becomes too much, and you are forced to pull away. You wait a beat, before raising your shaky hands over the fire once again. Albeit brief, the pain seems to be the only escape from the assault of your traitorous thoughts. Yet, with each retreat of your hands, the empty paper and pen sitting on your bedside table glare at you expectantly. They seem to radiate a cruel impatience—as if Eris is slinking in the shadows, watching you.

Your hands begin to burn again, and you abruptly pull them away. Before you can raise them over the flames once again, you feel the scraping of talons against the cobblestone barrier of your mind.

You want nothing less than to talk to Rhys right now. But you know that if you leave him hanging, he will worry. Reluctantly, you let your walls crumble down, and a shiver runs up your spine as you feel his aura creep in.

Everything okay? His voice sings across your mental connection.

You gnaw on your bottom lip until you wince, swiping your tongue across the droplet of blood.

I don’t know, you relent.

He doesn’t respond immediately. But you can picture the cinch between his brows as he mulls over your answer. Be honest with me. I won’t share with the others, if you don’t want me to. Promise.

Your fingers dance over the flames once more. You can’t possibly divulge what has transpired thus far. But you certainly can’t hold it all in without going mad. The fire burns your skin, and you jolt back before responding.

Promise?

He replies instantly, Yes.

You start talking before you can convince yourself otherwise. I think I may be getting a little too close.

Your response is simple, straight to the point. But something about it feels…heavy.

What do you mean ‘too close’?

You’re careful not to let your thoughts, your memories of what happened in that cottage, to breach your mental connection with Rhys. You stare into the orange flames, admiring how intertwine, before replying.

The ‘seduction from afar’ plan may need to be revised. I’m in too deep to keep my distance for three weeks.

Your heart thumps in your chest as you wait for his response. You subconsciously twirl the silver ring on your thumb, never peeling your eyes away from the blazing fire. Rhys doesn’t say anything for a while. Just as fear begins to creep in, his voice sounds through your mind.

That’s fine. You jolt at his response, and he continues. Between you and me, I don’t care what you have to do. Make him fall in love with you, break his heart, it doesn’t matter. Once you’re out of there, you’ll never have to see him again.

You physically flinch as the reality of your situation hits you like a truck. Three weeks, and you’ll never see him again. Three weeks, and it’ll all be done—there will be no witness to whatever fling you have, no one left to tell the tale. No one ever has to know. Mor never has to know.

Okay, you finally respond simply.

Just tread carefully, you can hear the strain in his voice.

You nod robotically, even though he can’t see you. With a quick farewell, you put up your mental barriers. You stare into the flames for a few minutes longer, until the mere sight burns your irises.

“Compartmentalization,” you mumble to no one in particular.

Finally, you peel yourself off the dust-covered floor in front of the fire. Your legs are wobbly as you take methodical steps towards your bedside table. The empty paper and pen are quivering in anticipation as you approach. Your hand moves with a mind of its own as you pick up the waiting pen and scribble onto the paper.

Does the offer still stand?

The second you set the pen back down onto the table, the paper vanishes into thin air from your fingertips. You wring your hands together as you sit down on the side of your bed and wait. You’re not sure what you’re waiting for exactly, but you wait.

“Compartmentalization,” you say it again. And you say it a few more times. Enough to trick your mind into believing it and slow the frantic beat of your heart. Enough to don a mask of apathy as a crack sounds outside the front door followed by a sharp knock.

You twist the silver ring around your thumb once more before standing, this time on steady legs. Your steps are calm and calculated as you tread towards the door. You take one last deep breath, ridding your body and mind of any residual apprehension. With your lips curled into a beguiling grin, you swing the door open.

Eris’s smile is almost as wicked as yours as he scans you from head to toe, drinking in your appearance.

“I was beginning to think you were avoiding me, Little Bird,” he smirks.

You pick at your nails nonchalantly, “I’m flattered I’ve been on your mind, but I’m not sure I can say the same.”

His vicious grin only widens, “You wound me, Birdie. But I must admit,” he dips down and lowers his voice to a whisper, “I quite like your bite today.”

You arch a brow and don’t so much as flinch at his proximity, “Are you a masochist, Eris Vanserra? Or does chasing after disinterested females turn you on?”

Your thinly veiled insult only eggs him on. It takes everything in you not to shrink back as he lowers his lips so they graze the shell of your ear.

“Are you sure you want to go down this road? Because last I remembered, you were a whimpering little mess—”

His sentence is abruptly halted by your fingers pinching his lips shut. His eyes widen in incredulity at your childish action, and a giggle bubbles in your throat at the sight. You release him and walk briskly past, leaving him dumbfounded behind you.

“Well, are we going or not?” you snark over your shoulder.

He falls into step beside you, and you jolt as he places his hand on the small of your back. His touch gentle, but commanding. You don’t dare look at him as he warns, “I’ll let this one slide, Little Bird. But don’t forget that my teeth are much sharper than yours,” he wraps his arm tightly around your waist, “And I’m not afraid to use them.”

Your rebuttal is cut short as he pulls you to his chest before winnowing you both out of the woods.

The Forest House is just as remarkable as you remembered it—even more so in the sunlight. The tangles of ivy enveloping the red-brick walls are a vibrant green, and the intricate details of the gate itself seem to glisten underneath the sun’s rays. However, unlike your last visit, this time sentries line nearly every inch of the expansive walls. Their taut faces and intimidating steeds exude a sense of savagery that makes your skin prickle.

Eris’s hand retreats to its spot on the small of your back, and you jump slightly as you are reminded of your purpose for being here. Reluctantly, you peel your eyes away from the curvature of the golden gates and cock your head towards his. The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement, and you can tell he’s holding back a comment from the twitch in his lips.

“Spit it out,” you feign annoyance.

He shakes his head with an airy laugh, “It’s nothing. I just like the way you look at the world—all wide-eyed and bushy-tailed, like you’re experiencing life for the first time. It’s cute.”

You frown.

His comment, while innocent, puts you on edge for two reasons. The first, and the one that really makes your skin crawl, is his incessant ability to unknowingly point out parts of yourself that belong to you, rather than Athena Ellesmere. With each destination he takes you to, you do feel like you’re experiencing the world for the first time. But that’s not Athena—and with each of your quirks he reveals, he’s one step closer to sniffing you out entirely.

The second, well…

“Cute?” you deadpan.

His teeth flash as his grin widens, “Cute.”

You’re not cute. You’re supposed to be sexy, confident, untouchable—a femme fatale. Not fucking cute.

You know your bubbling frustration is futile, so you simply narrow your eyes into a warning glare and march towards the golden gates. You know that the pout on your face isn’t helping your case—but you can’t seem to wipe it off. The sentries shift on their steeds as you approach but return to their stationed positions when Eris falls into step beside you. They don’t so much as look in your direction as you pass through the gates.

“Once you are formally welcomed inside the gates, you are free to come and go as you please,” Eris’s fingers brush yours as he speaks, “So if you are in further need of the library after today, you can return.”

Your ears perk up at this, but you nod coolly. He leads you around the side of the large mansion, away from the front door, and lowers his voice to a murmur, “But I would prefer if you’d let me accompany you, if you should visit again.”

“Why? Want me all to yourself?” you snort.

He wears a playful grin, but his eyes are vapid.

“You know I do,” he teases, “But the beauty of this place is deceptive. Darkness lurks behind these walls, Little Bird.”

A shiver crawls up your spine, but you swiftly retort, “I’m not afraid of the dark.”

“I know,” his voice is thick with trepidation.

You bristle at the way he speaks about you like he knows you. Yet again.

His hand returns to the small of your back as he leads you towards a small door, almost completely covered by thick ropes of vine. If he wasn’t guiding you, you would’ve completely missed the hidden entrance. You suck in a breath in anticipation as he pushes it open, wood creaking against rusted hinges. You hide your curiosity as you take in the burgundy carpet lining a hallway so long, you can’t see its end. The walls are built of centuries-old limestone, the darkness illuminated by flame torches.

You peel your eyes away from the hallway as Eris leads you to the left, down a steep, spiral staircase. Just like the hallway, it is built entirely of dark stone which holds a red hue thanks to the flickering flames of torches lining the walls. He steps in front of you, and you follow his lead silently as he leads you down the stairs. The steep wind of the steps is dizzying as you descend downwards, deep into the ground below, and into the heart of the tunnels of the Forest House. With each floor you pass, you picture Azriel’s map of the house. Finally, Eris takes a turn at the ninth floor you’ve descended. You follow closely behind and note the change in architecture. Gone are the limestone walls, and in their place, deep mahogany wood lined with a variety of paintings: family portraits, Autumn Court landscapes, still life’s. This hallway is also dimly lit with torches, but it holds a peculiar warmth unlike the others.

“How big is this place?” you voice echoes down the expansive hallway.

You know exactly how big it is. But you can’t stand the eerie silence.

Eris’s voice rumbles lowly, “Miles long. It would take you half the morning to walk from one end to the other.”

Your eyes widen in mock astonishment—as if you don’t know that it is exactly 4.2 miles long.

“And you don’t get lost?” you ask.

“You forget I’ve had centuries of practice, darling,” he chuckles.

You open your mouth to fire another question, but a squeal escapes instead as you feel something wet bump against your right hand. You snatch your hand to your chest and look down to find a pair of beady, vermillion eyes staring back at you. You instinctively inch closer to Eris as you stare down at the creature in awe.

You know what smokehounds are. And you know that Eris owns a whopping twelve. But you weren’t quite prepared for the predator standing before you. Its fur is gray and sleek like smoke, and its eyes are the color of blood. Your initial fear fades as you realize, despite their crimson hue, its eyes are not filled with malice—but rather, curiosity. You cautiously lower the hand clutched to your chest back to your side, and slowly stretch your fingers apart. Its wet nose bumps your hand again, and you shiver at the tickling sensation as it sniffs you. A giggle bubbles in your throat as it sticks its tongue out and licks between your fingers. You tentatively stroke the side of its face with your knuckles.

“She likes you,” Eris hums beside you.

The smokehound nuzzles into your side, and you stroke the top of her head with your full hand. You know they are vicious creatures—you’ve read about how they can race as fast as the wind to sniff out any prey. But the creature standing below you seems as harmless as a fly.

“What’s her name?” you ask as you scratch softly between her ears.

“Sage. She’s my oldest,” his hand joins yours as he strokes the back of her neck.

“I never pictured smokehounds to be so…affectionate,” you wonder aloud, curiosity piqued as she licks your hand again.

Eris laughs softly, “They aren’t. She must be drawn to you—the same way I am.”

You can feel his gaze on you but refuse to look in his direction as you fight the blush crawling up your neck. He withdraws his hand, and you follow suit as you continue your walk down the hallway, this time with Sage by your side. She trots beside you, close enough that your fingertips brush the silken fur on her back and her side rubs against your dress. Even as you continue down the dimly lit hallway, you can’t take your eyes off the elegant creature walking alongside you.

You nearly slam into Eris as he halts abruptly in front of two large oak doors. Just as you regain your footing, you nearly lose it again at the sight before you.

There are seemingly endless rows of books reaching at least fifty feet tall. An ornate rug of red and gold covers the stone floor, and hundreds of flickering candles are suspended in midair. Vibrant green ivy, much like the kind you’ve seen outside, wraps around each shelf. To top it all off, the ceiling is a mosaic of crystalline windows shining golden rays of sunlight down below—some kind of enchantment, you presume, given that you are at nine floors underground.

“Wow,” you breathe. With your mouth agape and your eyes wide with wonder, you know that you are proving Eris’s earlier point. But right now, you couldn’t care less.

You wander towards the shelves, Sage trailing behind you, and run your fingers gently along the spines of the books. The smell of parchment and wood is intoxicating, and your heart swells with joy as you scan the collection of classics. Some are so old; you presume they must be original prints. Others look brand new, completely untouched.

One binding in particular catches you attention—well, ‘binding’ is generous, considering the book is barely hanging together by a thread. You carefully pull out the amethyst-colored cover and turn it over. Shattered Realms.

“Is this an original copy?” you question, unable to peel your eyes away from the novel.

Eris looks over your shoulder, “Yes. It’s been passed down in my family for generations—although it originally belonged to the Night Court.”

Your lips twitch with amusement, but you force down a laugh at the irony. You glance at him over your shoulder, “How did it end up here?”

He takes a step closer to you, his chest inches away from pressing up against your back, and runs a finger over the binding of the book in your hands. His scent of sandalwood and nutmeg invades your senses.

“Many centuries ago, my grandfather was in a bit of a tiff with the Night Court High Lord at the time. He stole it during their feud.”

You smile softly and make a mental note to retrieve the book before you return to Velaris as a little souvenir for Rhys. You carefully place the book back in its spot before continuing your exploration. Eris follows closely behind, whereas Sage has found comfort in front of the fireplace.

“Do you have any favorites?” you wonder aloud as you come to the end of the aisle.

“I have many,” his hand brushes yours.

You hook your pinky finger over his, “Care to share?”

“Any particular genre you’re interested in?” he curls his finger against yours.

You bite your bottom lip in thought as you mull over the options. Asking you to pick a favorite genre is like asking a mother to pick her favorite child.

“I’ve recently been on a bit of a reading kick of philosophical essays,” you tap a finger to your chin in thought, “Mind-body dualism, introspection, all the good stuff,” you drawl.

Eris’s brows raise in surprise, “I never would’ve thought that philosophy pairs well with filthy little romance novels.”

Your eyes narrow into a glare, and you move to snatch your pinky away from his, but he swiftly intertwines your fingers. He’s dragging you down the aisle before you can protest, and you stumble to keep up with his swift feet. Eris leads you past rows of bookshelves, up a spiral staircase, and past even more rows of books. He doesn’t give you a chance to admire the collection of literature as he tugs you along. Finally, you halt at a small alcove decorated with stained glass windows.

Your eyes widen as you take in the collection of books written by countless ancient philosophers. But you force on a façade of indifference, careful not to fuel his already bursting ego even more. You hold your breath as he leans over you and pulls a book at least six inches out of your reach. The binding is tattered—not as badly as the original copy of Shattered Realms, but enough that you can tell it’s at least a few centuries old. He holds it out expectantly, and you tentatively grab it from his waiting hands.

“I think you might find this to your liking,” he grins, “A collection of Tydeus’s correspondences with Lady Baldwin. It’s not an original copy, but surely the closest to it.”

He releases your other hand, and you clench your jaw to conceal your excitement. You’ve been searching for a copy of this for years now—ever since you stumbled across the collection of the ancient philosopher Tydeus’s works in the Velaris library. Your mother used to love reading the copy of his correspondences in the Day Court libraries, but that feels like a lifetime ago now.

“Tydeus’s ideologies are a bit archaic for my taste. But I suppose this will do,” you lie through your teeth. Eris chuckles lightly, observing the curious glint in your eyes and the way you hold the book with a delicate reverence.

“There are wards around the house which prevent these books from leaving the premises, so unfortunately, I cannot loan it to you. And given your past thieving tendencies, I’m not sure I would want to,” he teases as he leans against the shelve of books.

Well, there goes Rhys’s solstice gift.

Your lips dip into a frown, “I know Vanserras are cruel, but I never imagined you’d be this twisted—dangling one-of-a-kind copies of ancient literature over my head only to pull them away.”

“Don’t fret, Little Bird,” he purrs, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “You can read to your heart’s desire—inside the house, of course. I’ll show you to a place with a bit more…privacy.”

You gulp as his fingers linger against your cheekbone. His touch is electrifying, and you fight the instinct to chase after it as he pulls away.

“Okay,” you whisper, “Is it alright if I pick out a few more?”

His teeth flash as he observes the effect he has over you.

“Take your time. I’ll be keeping Sage company.”

He brushes past you, and you remain frozen in place for a moment. Get it together, you scold yourself internally. You will your mind to empty as you continue your stroll down hundreds of rows of books. You try your very best not to pick up everything that catches your eye—only those which really pique your interest. But even so, you quickly find yourself with a stack of books so high they nearly reach your chin. Your arms tremble underneath the weight, but still, you add a couple of atlases to your stack for good measure. You have no intention of reading them—but Athena Ellesmere would.

Finally satisfied with your collection, you walk slowly back towards the front of the library. You rest your chin on the top of the stack, careful not to topple the tower of books. The winding staircase proves to be a challenge, and you nearly stumble twice. But by some miracle, you make it down unscathed, and approach the blazing fireplace.

Eris lounges on a couch with Sage on the ground beneath him. He scratches her ears nonchalantly as he flips through his own book. His neck cranes at the sound of your uneven footsteps, and a roaring laugh fills the room when he lays eyes on you.

It’s a sight he wishes will be forever imprinted in his memory—your arms wobbling underneath a stack of books nearly as tall as you, and your flushed cheeks peeking out on top.

“Some help would be appreciated,” you hiss.

He sets his book down and glides over, taking half the stack from your arms. You nearly moan in relief at the literal weight lifted off your shoulders.

“A few more, huh?” he taunts with a wily smirk.

“A few means a small number. Comparative to your collection, yes. A few,” you grit your teeth.

“Whatever you say, Little Bird. Although I except a thorough review of each,” he sings.

Eris balances his half of the stack in one arm and wraps his other around your waist, pulling you tight to his chest. You save your own stack from nearly tipping over with a stumble. You aren’t afforded a chance to protest as he winnows you both away, leaving Sage sleeping peacefully in front of the fire.

This time, you aren’t able to save the stack from spilling out of your arms as you land in a new room. Much to your displeasure, Eris’s pile of books is fully intact in his arms. You drop to your knees with a huff and begin collecting the books strewn about a patterned, crimson carpet.

“You’re a clumsy one, aren’t you?” he taunts from above you.

Your head snaps upwards and you open your mouth to retort but pause as you take in the new surroundings. Much like the library, this room holds a golden glow highlighted by swirling patterns of golds and reds along the walls. You can feel another fire blazing behind you, and just past the deep-seated sofa in front of you lies an enormous canopy bed. It suddenly clicks—you are in Eris’s private chambers.

You cock a brow at the sight and a smirk tugs at your lips, “You know, if you wanted to get me in your bed all you had to do was ask.”

He sets down his stack of books on a small, wooden table in front of the couch and reaches a hand down to you expectantly. You tentatively place your hand in his, and he raises you up from the ground, pulling you to his chest with a sultry smile.

“Is that an offer, darling?” his breath tickles your neck as he dips down to your ear.

Your cheeks flush as he caresses your jawline with his thumb. You clench your thighs as you are reminded of how his fingers felt inside you, dripping in your arousal. But before you can melt into his touch, you raise your lips to his ear and croon, “I’m not that easy. You’ll have to work harder than that, Fox.”

He presses his nose against your temple and groans, the vibration of it sending a tantalizing chill up your spine. Just as easily as he’s able to get you flustered, so are you able to drive him up the wall.

You pull away from him, ignoring his whine of protest. He is absolutely shameless in his desire for you, and the thought alone makes your gut churn with delight.

You gather your stack of books from the ground and carefully place them beside the other half on the wooden table. You sift through the titles before finally settling on the Tydeus copy Eris recommended. You don’t so much as glance in his direction as you take a seat on the couch and kick off your heavy boots. The fire is just close enough that the flames warm your skin, and you all but sink into its comfort. You can feel Eris’s eyes on you, but you continue to ignore him as you stretch your legs out across the velvet expanse and open the ancient book. You aren’t even through the first page when you feel Eris’s hands on your calves.

You squeal as he raises your legs, giving himself space to sit beside you, before lowering them again so they are draped over his lap. You glare at him over your book, but he ignores your malice as he leans forward and picks his own book from the pile on the table. He leans back in his seat, his legs spread beneath yours, as he opens the book—a rare biography of one of the original Valkyries. Your own book sits limply in your hands as you study his profile—the plump of his lips, the shift of his jaw. You can’t help but admire the freckles dusted across the bridge of his nose. He is incredibly handsome, which simultaneously makes your job easier, and all the more difficult.

“I know I’m gorgeous but try not to drool on my centuries-old book,” he hums nonchalantly, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.

You raise your leg to kick him, but he firmly grips your ankle and sets it back onto his lap without so much as a glance in your direction. He doesn’t remove his hand, letting it rest on your leg. With a huff, you return to your book. You are halted, once again, this time by his wandering hand. He teasingly pushes up the skirt of your long dress, just below your knees, so he can rest his hand on your shin. Your breath hitches as he rubs circles into your calf with his thumb, massaging it gently.

Reluctantly, you succumb to the comfort of his touch and return to your book once more. You page through Tydeus’s correspondences with Lady Baldwin. Their letters begin simply enough. But you quickly find yourself immersed in their debate over morality. Whereas the Lady takes a relative stance, Tydeus takes on an absolutist one. As their back-and-forth shifts to the dichotomy of good and evil, you are eerily reminded of your own inner turmoil earlier that morning.

“Anything good so far?” you jump as Eris’s gravelly voice cuts through the comfortable silence.

You meet his inquisitive gaze and note how the flame of the fire reflects in the amber of his eyes.

“My mother would have loved this,” you reply.

She did love it. You remember how she used to read it constantly in the Day Court—you never thought you’d be able to get your hands on a copy of it again.

“Why is that?” he asks, curiosity laced in his tone.

You lower the book onto your lap, “She loved all of Tydeus’s works. She was a strong believer in the dichotomous division between ‘good’ and ‘evil’.”

Eris sets his own book down and rubs your leg with both of his hands.

“And what do you think?” he challenges thoughtfully.

You shrug, “I’m not sure. On the one hand, I think morality is relative—that individuals are not uniform, and thus form their own ideas about what is ‘good’ and what is ‘evil’. But then on the other, I used to believe that there are some things we universally categorize as one or the other.”

“You don’t anymore?” he counters

You bite your lip and avert your gaze to the fire. The anxiety you managed to dispel earlier that day starts creeping in. Your gut twists uncomfortably as you reply simply, “I’m not sure.”

His hands slow, noticing your shift in demeanor. He studies the furrow of your brows as you stare into the fire.

“I think it is not morality that dominates the situation, but the situation that dominates morality,” he counters after a few beats of silence.

“A moral relativist?”

“I don’t like labels,” he shrugs.

The vibrancy of the fire is burning your eyes, but you keep them trained on the flames as you reply, “I suppose I agree with that—the problem is, it’s not the answer I’m seeking.”

“And what answer are you seeking?”

You long to reach your hands out over the flames until the heat sears your skin. The déjà vu makes your stomach churn.

“It’s not so much an answer as a direction,” you speak softly to hide the quiver of your voice, “I wish there was some way to know if I’m moving in the right direction.”

He chuckles, “Which brings us back to the question of absolutism versus relativism.”

You peel your eyes away from the flame, and your eyes lock with his. They hold a certain understanding, as if he can see straight through you and into your soul. Your body moves with a mind of its own as you sit up and subconsciously inch closer.

“I suppose all we can really do is justify our actions for ourselves—and hope that others will agree with our division of morality,” you whisper.

His gaze darkens, and he bows his head towards you, “I think life is full of gray areas, and we can’t be faulted for how we choose to navigate them.”

His response strikes a chord deep within you. Your eyes flick down to his pink lips, just inches away from yours.

Compartmentalization be damned.

You lurch forward to close the gap, and he meets you halfway.

The moment your lips meet his, every ounce of worry is swept away from your mind. You barely register the thump of your book hitting the ground as his lips glide against yours. His taste is addictive—a sweet peppermint that you can’t seem to get enough of. Your nose bumps against his as you climb on top of him, your legs straddling his lap. You cup the side of his face with your hands, deepening the kiss. He grips the small of your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. He runs his tongue along your bottom lip: a question. Your mouth parts: an answer.

You snake one hand behind his neck and run your fingers through his crimson locks, tugging sharply. He groans, and just as he moves to deepen the kiss, you abruptly pull away.

His sounds of protest are silenced by your lips against the sensitive skin of his neck. You move tentatively at first, remembering how it felt to have his lips against your neck, and mimic his maneuvers. He tangles a hand in the hair at the nape of your neck, pushing you closer as a sign of encouragement. You become bolder, alternating between open-mouthed kisses, small nips, and swipes of your tongue. His groan of approval spurs you on, and you fiddle with the bottom of his tunic, pulling it up his chest. You draw back briefly to peel the shirt completely off his body before resuming your work.

“Who taught you how to do that?” Eris hisses as you suck harshly at the apex of his collarbone.

You grin at the blossoming purple hue on his pale skin and run your tongue over the spot soothingly, “A wily fox too clever for his own good.”

He pulls you back up, abruptly cutting your abuse of his neck short. You eagerly smash your lips against his once more and trail your hands down the expanse of his chest, dragging your nails lightly along his rigid abdomen. His hands loop around you and he swiftly yanks down the zipper of your dress. You eagerly shed the suffocating material, so it pools at your waist, exposing your bare chest to him. Eris moans at the sight of your peaked nipples and doesn’t hesitate to massage your breasts with his large hands. His lips trail down your neck, but before he has a chance to carry out the same treatment you’d given him, you slip from his grasp entirely.

Eris watches, stunned, as you slip off his lap and sink down onto your knees before him. His lips part as you nudge his knees apart, and lurch forward to trail open-mouthed kisses down his chest, to his abdomen, until you finally reach the waistband of his bottoms. He jolts as you brush your hand over the very obvious, and large, tent in his pants.

“Little Bird,” he mumbles as you palm over him, “You don’t have to do this.”

Your eyes flick up to his and you speak with conviction, “I want to.”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps and you all but drool at the sight. He nods once, and you begin fiddling with his belt buckle. His hands move to help you, but you swat them away. You make quick work of the fastenings, and slowly drag the material down his legs, inch by inch. You know he’s growing impatient by the clenching of his abdomen. You flash him a sultry smile as you finally pull the material from his legs, leaving him in his underwear. His hands move to the waistband, but you swat them away again.

“Patience is a virtue,” you muse before nipping the skin of his inner thigh. He inhales sharply, and shudders as you run your tongue over the same spot, soothing the ache.

“Using my own moves against me,” he croons, but the strain is evident in his voice, “I’m impressed, Little Bird.”

Your heart thumps in your chest as you graze your hands along the waistband of his underwear. You dip your fingers underneath, and your confidence falters slightly. He runs a hand through your hair soothingly, coaxing you to continue. Your keep your eyes trained on his as you inch the fabric down his thighs. He raises his hips and releases a sigh of relief as his erection slaps up against his stomach, free from the confining material. You toss the garment aside haphazardly and take in the sight of his complete bareness.

The first thing you notice is that he’s big—well, you think so, at least, considering you have nothing to compare him to. His dick is much thicker than you’d imagined, with veins branching upwards towards the tip which is a shade darker than the pink of his lips. You can’t help but wonder how it could possibly fit inside you. A blush paints the apples of your cheeks at the thought.

Eris notices your apprehension, and he curls a finger underneath your chin so your eyes meet his.

“Would you like me to talk you through it?” his voice is soft.

The amber of his eyes is warm, like honey. You nod shyly.

“Okay, darling. Can you wrap your hand around my cock?” the sweetness of his voice is a stark contrast to the dirtiness of the words tumbling from his lips.

You rest your left hand on his thigh and raise your right hand, delicately wrapping your fingers around his girth at its base. You hold him loosely, and he releases a pleasured sigh at your tentative touch.

“You can hold it a bit tighter, love,” he hums while stroking the shell of your ear.

You follow his direction with a nod.

“Now move your hand—”

You don’t give him a chance to finish as you slowly begin moving your hand over his cock, from the base to the tip. His lips part and he shudders at the motion.

“Good,” he rasps, “Now can you spit on it? Get it a little wet for me?”

Your cheeks flare, but you follow his request. You timidly lean forward and dribble over his tip, captivated by the way it mixes with the bead of precum before sliding down. You use your hand to spread it around, and the friction eases as your hand slides more freely.

“I think you’re a natural, Birdie,” he praises through a gasp, “Can you twist your hand for me a bit?”

You twist your hand in time with your strokes, and admire the way his face scrunches with pleasure. You squeeze a bit harder when you reach his base, and his hips twitch. Testing the waters, you slowly lean forward and stick your tongue out, licking over his tip. Eris grunts at the action, and you feel a bit more confident as you wrap your lips completely around the head.

A guttural moan escapes his lips as you suckle on the head, your hand continuously pumping his shaft. You pull off his tip, and your gut twists with desire at the string of saliva between the head of his cock and your lips. You lurch forward, flattening your tongue against the base and dragging it upwards, before wrapping your lips around the tip again in a teasing maneuver.

“Fuck,” he groans, “Can you take me a bit deeper?”

You nod, pupils blown. Your hand resumes its stroking movement as you slowly, tentatively, slide downwards. Your mouth burns from the stretch of his girth, but you breathe through your nose steadily. You take him in, inch by inch, until his tip hits the back of your throat, bringing tears to the corners of your eyes. You keep your hand around the base of his shaft, pumping and twisting the length you can’t fit.

“So good for me, Little Bird,” he moans. His right-hand digs into the fabric of the couch until his knuckles turn white, and his left brushes the hair out of your face. “Can you move your pretty little mouth for me?”

You slowly bob your head up and down, timing the strokes of your hand with the rise and fall of your lips. Tears spring to your eyes each time his tip hits the back of your throat and spit dribbles down the sides of your mouth, but any ounce of insecurity is washed away by the sinful noises tumbling from Eris’s lips.

“Can you use your tongue for me?” his voice is strained.

You flatten your tongue against his length as you bob up and down, swirling it around his length to the best of your ability.

“Look at me, love,” he gasps through an animalistic groan.

Your eyes flick up and you peer at him through your lashes. His pupils are blown and his lips parted, brows scrunched with a vulnerability you never imagined you’d see.

“You look so pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock,” he rasps, “Wish I could keep you like this forever.”

You hum around him, and he shudders at the vibration. He tangles a hand in your hair, guiding your movements but not pushing you, slowly increasing your pace. Tears begin rolling down your cheeks at the delicious burn in your jaw and the back of your throat.

His chest heaves as he pants, “So close. Just a little more.”

You move with a newfound vigor at his words, finding a rhythm that keeps the noises tumbling from his mouth. You raise your unoccupied hand to the base of his cock. Experimentally, you brush over his balls with your thumb, eliciting raucous moan from Eris. He twitches in your mouth, and you do it again while swirling your tongue in a prolonged sweeping motion around his length.

“Fuck, Little Bird. I’m—”

He halts midsentence with an earth-shattering groan as his cock twitches violently in your mouth. You slow your movements as he reaches his high, thick ropes of cum painting the back of your throat. You splutter at the feeling, but continue milking him, swallowing his load. You stroke him gently, your tongue rubbing along him in a coaxing manner, until his thighs jerk, and his length softens in your mouth. You inch off him, stroking a hand over his thigh soothingly, and press one last kiss to his tip before pulling off completely.

You glance shyly up at Eris, and your chest swells with pride as you find his head thrown back in pure bliss. You rake your nails softly against his thighs, peppering feather-like kisses over his abdomen. His head lulls down towards you, and your heart skips a beat at the carnal look in his eyes. His hands are gentle as he wipes away the tears staining your cheeks before swiping over your mouth, collecting the saliva staining your lips.

“You are an enigma, Little Bird,” he mumbles while intertwining your hands with his and pulling you back up.

Your dress falls from your waist to the floor as you rise, leaving you completely bare aside from your panties. He pulls you onto his lap and you eagerly straddle him, connecting your lips to his. He groans into your mouth at the taste of his own release on your lips.

“Good?” you breathlessly ask against his mouth.

He pulls away from your lips with a chuckle and trails kisses underneath your ear as he mutters, “I haven’t finished so quickly in centuries.”

Your eyes crinkle with pride.

His lips meet yours once again, and you marvel at the way you slot together like the final two pieces of a puzzle. Mimicking his earlier move, you run your tongue along his bottom lip and he grants you entry, allowing you to deepen the kiss. His hands run down the curve of your back before settling on your ass, exploring your soft skin. Your gut clenches at the arousal pooling in your panties.

“Would you like to try something new?” he murmurs against your lips.

You respond with an affirmative hum, and whine as he pulls away.

He grips your waist, lifting you off his lap as if you weigh nothing at all, before setting you back down so you straddle just his left thigh. You jolt as your clothed arousal presses against the bare skin of his thigh.

Eris rolls his thumb over your swollen lips and whispers tauntingly, “Are you horny, Little Bird? Do you need some release?”

You nod shamelessly.

“Get yourself off, then.”

Your brows pinch with confusion, but realization dawns over you as he digs his fingers into your ass cheeks, grinding your clothed cunt against his leg. Your lips part in a silent gasp at the wave of pleasure that rolls through you. He guides you as you set a steady rhythm, grinding your throbbing clit against his thigh. The friction is electrifying, but you need more. The thin barrier of fabric separating you from him is suffocating.

You whine pathetically, and he senses your desire. Eris pinches the flesh of your ass, and you lift your hips slightly. He removes his hands from behind you and you watch as they dip down between your thighs. You throb with anticipation as he hooks a finger underneath the fabric. Your arousal sticks to the flimsy material as he peels it aside, exposing your bare cunt.

“You’re dripping for me, darling,” he croons.

A long moan escapes your lips as you settle back down onto his thigh. With nothing separating you from him, you can feel how every ridge of his muscle stimulates your clit. He continues guiding you with his hands on your waist for a few seconds, before abruptly pulling away.

You pause, mouth agape, as he stretches his arms over the back of the couch. Your cheeks flare in a combination of frustration and embarrassment as he leans back in his seat with a coy smirk on his lips.

He arches a brow expectantly, “Go on.”

You desperately want to wipe the smug look off his face—but your lust, your need for release, is too strong. You brace your hands against his broad shoulders and begin moving again. You groan at the way your clit slides against his bare thigh.

“You like making a mess over my thigh?”

You nod obediently.

He jerks his thigh once underneath you, and you cry out at the sensation.

“I need words, Birdie,” he drawls.

You roll your hips against him desperately and pant between gasps, “I love it.”

He shakes his leg at a steady pace, and the additional stimulation sends you reeling.

“Yeah?” he coos, “Tell me how it feels.”

Your legs tremble as your clit catches against the tensing muscles of his thigh.

“Feels filthy,” you mewl.

He grips your chin firmly, directing your gaze to his, before his arm returns to the back of the couch.

“Fitting for a filthy little girl, getting herself off on my leg,” he purrs, “I’m not even touching you and you’re a whimpering mess for me.”

His degrading words don’t even register, your mind clouded with desire. You can feel the tension building in your gut, and you pant with each roll of your hips. You try to increase your pace as you feel your high approaching, but your legs tremble underneath you, leaving that peak you so desperately desire just out of reach.

“Please,” your voice trembles.

Eris knows exactly what you want, but he taunts you, “Please what?”

A fat tear escapes the corner of your eye and rolls down your flushed cheeks.

Your bottom lip wobbles as you whimper, “Touch me, Eris. Please.”

He swiftly pulls you off his thigh and lays you down on the couch. He crashes his lips against yours, your teeth bumping at the force. Eris doesn’t give you a second to catch your breath as he trails his hand up your inner thigh before sliding his middle finger through your slick, from your entrance to your swollen clit. Unlike last time, he doesn’t waste time teasing as he promptly sinks his middle finger inside of you.

You cry out at the feeling of his finger deep inside you, and he curls it in response. He doesn’t hold back as he rubs your clit with his thumb while thrusting his finger, curling it against your g-spot with each maneuver. He latches his lips to your neck and sucks harshly while his unoccupied hand flicks over your peaked nipples.

Your mind whirls at the sensation—the feeling of him all over you. It’s almost too much, having him everywhere. You desperately claw at his back, searching for something to stabilize you.

Your stomach coils as you feel your high approaching again. He can feel you clench around his finger, and he groans against your skin, “You gonna cum for me, love? Finish all over my hand?”

Another tear rolls down your cheek, “Yes,” you blubber, “’M so close.”

“Let go, Little Bird,” he coaxes while slipping another finger inside of you.

The added stretch sends you over the edge. You all but scream as shockwaves of pleasure roll through your body. Your toes curl and your nails dig into his back as your vision spots. His fingers slow, but he keeps rubbing your clit as you ride through your high. He continues until your hips jerk from the overstimulation, and your hands go limp around his neck. You wince as he pulls his fingers from you and watch through hooded eyes as he sucks his fingers into his mouth, licking up every last drop of your arousal. Your chest heaves as you catch your breath, your mind spinning in a post-orgasmic haze.

Eris softly strokes your cheek with the back of his hand before dipping down and capturing your lips with his. This time, the kiss is slow—no bumping teeth or clashing tongues. You wrap your fingers around his wrist, relishing in the intimacy of it all, until he pulls away.

An airy laugh passes through your lips as he rests his forehead against yours.

“You’ll be the end of me, Little Bird,” Eris mumbles. He places a chaste kiss on the tip of your nose before collapsing on top of you. You grunt at the weight, and he shifts over enough so that he isn’t restricting your breathing, but his bare body remains draped over yours.

“The end is but a beginning in disguise,” you tease as he nestles his nose against your cheek.

He chuckles, his breath tickling your neck.

“How were you made so wise?” he muses.

“Wisdom isn’t born, Fox. It’s learned,” you trace your fingers along the arm draped over you, “And I have a lot more living to do before I can even come close to it.”

“Well, I think you’re plenty wise,” he curves a finger underneath your chin and tilts your head towards his.

Your nose is millimeters apart from his as you gaze into his amber eyes. Their golden hue is vibrant, much like his lopsided smile. But suddenly, something inside them dims, and the corners of his lips twitch downwards. Your brows furrow as you note the subtle change.

“What’s wrong?” you whisper, brushing back his crimson locks.

Eris shakes his head, “It’s nothing.”

You quirk a brow, “Clearly not.”

His hardened stare doesn’t stray from your eyes, but it seems to be searching for something. A chill crawls up your spine at his scrutinizing gaze, as if he’s trying to read your darkest thoughts. You’re suddenly aware of how exposed, how vulnerable you are to him right now—both physically and emotionally.

“Your eyes…” he pauses, as if searching for the right words, before continuing, “Do you remember the first night we met?”

The crinkle between your brows deepens, “How could I forget?”

He wets his lips before replying, “I told you your eyes were familiar.”

Fuck.

You pray that he doesn’t feel the uptick of your heart and continue stroking his arm steadily.

“I just realized,” he continues, “Who they remind me of.”

Panic washes over you, but your expression doesn’t falter, and you maintain your soothing touch.

“Oh?” you hum nonchalantly, “Who may that be?”

Eris shifts his gaze away from the eyes in question, and instead watches the rise and fall of your bare chest.

“A woman I knew a long time ago,” he finally replies.

You continue threading your fingers through his hair as you contemplate your next words. You are breeching unfamiliar territory, and one wrong step could doom you.

“Was she important to you?” you ask cautiously.

He doesn’t respond for a while, and his body is tense over yours. You wait with bated breath for his reply, your curiosity growing with each passing second.

“I don’t know.”

It’s not what you were expecting—but you aren’t sure what you were expecting, exactly.

You mull over his response, nibbling on your bottom lip in thought. Pressing him further feels like a violation—not only of his vulnerability, but of Mor’s. But curiosity is gripping you like a vice. This is the first time in a week you’ve gotten him close to talking about the Night Court, you justify to yourself, don’t let the opportunity slip through your fingers.

“May I ask what happened?” you inquire tentatively.

He grunts and rests his head in the crook of your neck, “It’s not exactly a bedtime story, darling.”

You frown, unsure how to press him further without raising suspicion.

He must notice your disappointment as he sighs, “I can practically hear those gears turning in your head, Little Bird. Would you really like to know?”

You nod. He traces shapes over the expanse of your stomach as he contemplates where to begin.

“Many centuries ago, my father arranged for my marriage to a daughter of the Night Court,” he speaks slowly, “It was purely political—a chance to strengthen the alliance between our courts.”

This is so wrong, you think to yourself. But you make no move to stop him.

“She did not want the union. So, the night before the wedding, she escaped—into the arms of another male, hoping that if she tarnished her…purity, the wedding would be called off.”

Tears prick your eyes as you know exactly what’s coming next, but you blink them away.

“Her father was—is—a cruel man. As cruel as my father,” the steadiness of his voice falters, but he continues, “When he found out what she’d done, he tortured her with a brutality unlike any I’ve witnessed. He left her, stripped naked, at the border of our court, with a sign that she was ours to deal with.”

You’re grateful for his sparing of the details, because you’re not sure you’d be able to hold yourself together.

“I found her that morning, while out with my guards,” he stops, and for a moment you don’t think he will continue. But he releases a deep sigh, and barely speaks above a whisper, “I demanded them not to touch her.”

Anger bubbles in the pit of your stomach, and it takes everything in you not to scream. You feel nauseous, the reality of your predicament suddenly sobering—the reality that you’re lying naked on a couch with a man who left your sister for dead.

“If I or any of my guards touched her, she would have been stuck in Autumn—doomed to a life she did not want, according to my court’s laws. If I had…” his voice trembles ever so slightly, “If I had touched her, my father would have killed her on the spot. So, I left her there. I knew her…her friends would come save her. But it was not a decision I wanted to make.”

The fury trembling in your bones settles, and your mind reels over his recount of the events. This is not the version of the story you’ve heard from Cassian, Rhys, and Azriel. He could be lying—but what reason would Eris have to lie to you, when he is blissfully unaware of your relation to Mor? More than that, you’re unable to ignore the sincerity, the distress in his voice.

“Do you regret it?” you whisper so quietly; you’re surprised he can hear you.

“No,” his response is immediate, “Not for a minute. I gave her a chance to live. Even if she doesn’t see it that way. But I’ll never be able to get that image out of my head…of her pleading for help, and me being unable to grant it.”

Your mouth is dry and you’re sure he can feel the thundering of your heart. Your head is a muddled mess, to say the least.

“Gray areas,” you whisper simply.

We can’t be faulted for how we choose to navigate them, his earlier words ring through your mind. But not faulting him feels like the gravest betrayal you could commit.

A humorless chuckle tumbles from his lips as he echoes you, “Gray areas.”

His head sinks further into the crook of your neck and he runs his thumb soothingly over your abdomen, unknowingly combatting the pounding of your head as you process the onslaught of new—and unexpected—information.

“Do you still align with the Night Court?” you change the subject boldly but keep your tone nonchalant.

Fortunately, he doesn’t seem fazed by your question. Unfortunately, he doesn’t entertain it either.

“I like to keep my business separate from the bedroom,” he rasps against your neck, and you shudder at the tickle of his breath.

You purse your lips into a humorless smile, “Compartmentalization.”

“Forgive me, darling,” he muses, the seriousness of his tone gone, “But I can’t bring myself to discuss pompous High Lords while lying atop a beautiful, naked female.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” you tease half-heartedly.

He raises his head from your shoulder and looks down at you, the fox-like grin that had momentarily disappeared back, “I don’t think, I know,” he brushes his nose along your jawline, “You are the most delectable little thing I’ve seen in centuries.”

You feel his groin twitch against your upper thigh, and you roll your eyes, “You are insatiable, Eris Vanserra.”

He laughs and your heart sings at the sound, despite your reeling mind. He presses his chest against yours and stretches his arm out to the floor. You watch curiously as he rolls back into his previous position with your forgotten book in hand.

“I’m not quite sure if Tydeus qualifies as a bedtime story either,” you arch a brow.

He shrugs with a cheeky grin, “Well if you ever plan on getting through that mountain of books, you’d better get started.”

Eris holds it out expectantly, and after a moment of contemplation, you grab it with your free arm. You untangle your other hand from his hair and wrap it around his shoulder so you can balance the book on your stomach with both arms. He squirms over you, and you squeak he accidentally elbows the side of your breast.

“Careful,” you hiss.

“My apologies, Little Bird,” he coos as he finally finds a comfortable position on his side. One arm rests underneath your neck, while the other remains draped over your stomach behind the book. He drops his head onto your shoulder, so he has a full view of the book in your hands.

“I’ll let you know when to turn the page,” he nods his head against you, encouraging you to begin.

You squint but relent as you see his eyes moving back and forth, reading the text before him. You can feel him smiling below you as you focus your gaze on the page in front of you and pick up where you left off earlier.

You’re nearing the end of the page when Eris taps the side of your hand with his finger. He waits patiently for you to finish, and both of your heads shift when you flip the page. You fall into a comfortable rhythm. He taps your hand softly each time to indicate when he’s finished, and you alternate between who finishes first with each flip of the page. The rise and fall of your bare chest moves in time with his breath against your skin, and despite your nudity, you don’t feel an ounce of shyness.

As you read, you can’t help but think that this must be what heaven feels like: orange flames warming your skin as you lounge on a couch reading with a gorgeous, and very naked, male on top of you. But there’s just one tiny problem—the gorgeous, and very naked, male in question.

You feel your thoughts slip from the book and urge yourself to focus on Tydeus’s philosophy rather than dwell on your anxiety. You find yourself so immersed in one passage in particular, that you don’t notice the way Eris’s breathing slows, or how his head lulls against your chest. You reach the end of the page and wait patiently for his signal to continue. Your brows cinch as the seconds stretch into minutes. You look down and realize that the heir to the Autumn Court throne, in all his glory, is sleeping like a babe using your breasts as a pillow.

The book lays forgotten in your hands as you observe him. Even in his softest of moments, his features still hold a certain sharpness. But right now, he looks…peaceful. His cheek is pressed up against the flesh of your breast, and with his eyes closed, you notice that his eyelashes are much longer than you imagined. You long to trace your fingers over the freckles splattered across his nose, to feel the curve of his nose. It’s hard to think that the male before you is capable of any cruelty at all.

But he is.

And you’re gazing at him wide-eyed like a lovestruck teenager.

You wish you could speak to your sister right now. You’re not sure what you’d say—maybe nothing at all. Maybe looking into her eyes, which are so similar to yours, would reveal some hidden truth, buried deep under centuries of hatred. Or maybe they would hold disdain—disappointment directed at you, for rolling around with a male who hurt her deeply.

Eris snores softly, halting your train of thought. Your chest tightens and the flames of the fire start to burn your skin. You can’t stay here. More importantly, you have a job to do.

You set the book down on the floor beneath you, and cautiously shift your body. He grunts in his sleep, but doesn’t stir, as you carefully slip out from underneath him. You hiss as you tumble onto the ground below and pause to make sure he’s still asleep. His snores don’t falter, and you rise from the ground.

You make quick work of gathering your clothes, cringing at the dried arousal covering your inner thighs and panties. Just as you’re about to slip out of his chambers, you turn back to take one last glance at his sleeping form. You gnaw your lower lip, a pang of guilt tugging at your heartstrings. Against your better judgment, you search for a scrap piece of paper and pen to leave him a note, as he had done for you.

‘Till we meet again, Eris Vanserra

Your lips purse—simple, yet effective. You set the note down on the wooden table and drape a throw blanket over the sleeping male in case he has any unexpected visitors. You don’t dare look back as you creep towards the doors.

The creaking of the rusted hinges has you cringing as you ease them open, inch by inch, and peer into the hallway. It’s empty—thank the Mother—with the only movement coming from the flickering flames of torches on the walls.

You slink into the shadows as you move to your left down the hallway. Assuming Azriel’s map is correct, Eris’s office is two floors above his personal chambers, about one mile to the left. Despite the sizeable distance, you don’t risk winnowing for fear of someone catching you.

As you move along the walls, there’s a heavy weight on your shoulders. You can’t help but feel guilty for playing with his feelings and using them to your advantage—especially following the vulnerability he showed you tonight. But you remind yourself that, even in life’s dimmest gray areas, your loyalty to your family is unwavering.

Your heart thumps in your chest as you scale the winding staircase, keeping an eye out for any guards or lurking Vanserras. As you make your way down the next hallway, identical to the last, you move as swiftly as you can. The sooner you’re gone, the better—but you can’t deny the unease that grows with each step. On one hand, you hope you’ll find something to report back to Rhys. But on the other, you dread finding something that may contradict your image of Eris thus far.

Your steps are featherlight, and by the grace of the Cauldron, you make it to your destination without any setbacks. You press your ear against the door before slowing pushing it open.

The room is much like Eris’s chambers: swirling yellows and reds along the walls, a blazing fireplace, and a deep mahogany rug carpet covering the stone floor. In the middle sits a large, mahogany desk, covered in parchment. You creep forward, careful not to make any noise. You run your fingers along the polished wood of the desk, glancing over the papers. Nothing stands out as you shuffle through them. You search through his cabinets, rifle through the small bookcase in the back, and even check beneath the cushions of the chairs. All you can seem to find is polite, and uninteresting, correspondences with various courts, and menial to-do lists. You check each possible hiding place but come up short once again. There’s absolutely nothing here.

You’re not sure whether to feel relieved or frustrated—or perhaps, both. You glance at the grandfather clock in the corner of the dimly lit room. 3:06. You contemplate redirecting your search to Beron’s office, but you remember from Azriel’s map that it’s six floors down, and approximately two miles away on the opposite side of the house. If you were to go now, there’s a chance the sun would be rising by the time you’re ready to leave, leaving you defenseless without the dark of the shadows.

With a sigh, you check over the room once more to ensure nothing is out of place before making your exit. You leave just as you came, slinking into the shadows along the hallways as quiet as a mouse. As you navigate the winding tunnels, you wonder if Eris is still sleeping soundly by the fire, or if he’s aware of your absence. And as your thoughts drift to the crimson-haired heir, you find yourself moving faster—as if escaping the walls of the Forest House will erase him from your mind.

The wind is even more chilling than usual in the dead of night, you realize as you finally make it out through a side door. You make quick work of the courtyard, using the shadows to your advantage to avoid detection by the sentries littered throughout. When you finally make it out, you will the air to twist and fold around you, winnowing you back to your ransack cabin just as the sun begins to peek out from the horizon. Your limbs are tired, but your mind is racing. You know that sleep will not be kind to you. So, you kick off your boots and plop yourself on the dirty floor in front of the fireplace.

You find yourself just as you were before; hovering your hands over the orange embers until the burn becomes too much, and you are forced to pull away. Again. Over and over. As if the pain will grant you some sense of clarity. As if nothing has changed since you were last sat here. As if you aren’t falling further into the fox’s trap with no way out.

Being born of Light and Dark can be a difficult thing. But there are far worse evils in the world, some lurking just around the corner.

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