#still reeling from the cliffhanger :>> | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

acourtofwhatthefuck · 1 year ago

Text

Practice On Me — Part Five — Azriel x Reader

Note: I feel like this part isn’t that great but as you may have seen, I had a family emergency and I got kind of distracted whilst trying to finish it. It was going to be even longer with even more drama, but I wanted to get an update out today and I wouldn’t have finished it in time, so I’ve cut it short (on a cliffhanger, of course), and the next part will be out quicker as it’s already mostly written. You can look forward to more drama 😏 I hope you enjoy this part all the same! Also, I try to tag everyone who asks, but it won’t let me tag some of you, so please check your settings to make sure your blog is able to be tagged/searched for!

Summary: Reader is trying to carry on as normal, but a trip to a rival camp has tensions rising once more, and jealous Azriel makes a return. Trouble seems to follow our poor girl everywhere…

Word Count: 6.1k.

Warnings: A bit of violence.

This is all wrong.

The beautiful female hovers over Azriel, her lips slanting over his. Her mouth is commanding, entirely in control.

She smiles against him like she knows it.

She grabs Azriel’s hands, plants them on her waist. And she whispers in a voice that is so seductive, it almost seems impossible, “Touch me.”

So Az touches her. And it’s all wrong.

He can’t exactly place why it’s wrong. Just that there’s a panic unfurling inside of him that this is all happening too fast—

No, not too fast. It’s not that.

It’s who hovers over him that’s the problem. The realisation is nearly suffocating. Something has changed.

He doesn’t…doesn’t think he wants to be doing this here, right now, with Kaeda. It feels…off. He’s not comfortable, not at ease, like he’s always been with—

The door bursts open, and it’s a relief when Kaeda tears her mouth away from his.

The relief instantaneously disappears as he turns his head, drinks in who stands at the threshold. His stomach lurches.

Y/N looks as if she’s about to keel over on the spot. She trembles so violently that she can’t seem to keep her body still. Her tunic and breeches and shoes are sodden, as though she traipsed all the way here, through the snow, with nothing shielding her from the cold. Her hair sticks to her face, and there’s blood — blood streaking down her chin.

Azriel goes cold. Something has happened.

But Y/N seems oblivious to the blood as she stares, wide-and-watery-eyed, between Azriel and Kaeda.

And Az thinks…fuck. Fuck, fuck, a thousand times, fuck.

His head is reeling, roaring.

And then Kaeda says, “The shop hand from the forge,” and Azriel doesn’t like her tone; like being a shop hand is something shameful. She adds, “What happened to your face?”

Az is wondering the same fucking thing. It’s then that be remembers how to move, and he’s wrenching up and scooting out from beneath Kaeda, and his voice is quiet, soft, as he murmurs, “Y/N…”

He wants to go to her, fuss over her, but she’s gripping the door handle and shaking her head in a way that stops him from doing so.

“Sorry for interrupting.” She chokes out. In a flash, the door is yanked shut, and she’s gone.

All Azriel can think is no. Something prickles at his skin. He forgets there’s someone else in the room with him.

“Do you know her?” Kaeda’s voice jolts him.

“She’s my—friend.” The word sounds strange in his voice, tastes funny on his tongue. It tastes…sour.

“You think she got into a fight, or something?”

“No, that’s not—” He stops himself from revealing too much. Presses his back into the pillows. “No. I’m not sure what happened, but…no.”

Kaeda seems to think on that for a mere second or two. And then she shrugs. “How strange.”

Before Azriel can reply, she’s climbing into his lap, legs either side of his. She grabs his hands, planting them on her hips. Her soft hair tickles his cheek as she leans down, and she smells pleasant. Sweet and powdery.

“Where were we?” She murmurs, and then she kisses him again.

There is no excitement in this. There should be something thrilling about the way her lips attack his hungrily, and the way she’s stroking her hands over his shoulders and down his arms, and the way she rocks on top of him. Az may lack experience, but he doesn’t lack knowledge, basic common sense.

His cock should be hardening in his breeches by now. But all he feels is…panic.

He’s too concerned about Y/N to focus.

He rips his mouth away, panting, “I can’t.”

Kaeda blinks down at him. “What?”

“I’m sorry, I just — I need to find Y/N. I need to check she’s alright.”

The female studies him, reading his face.

And then her expression softens. She nods. “Of course, Azriel. I’m sorry. You should go find her.”

Kaeda is nice — he’s thought so since the moment he met her, when she took a late night trip to one of the training rings a good few months ago, and Az had had the same idea. She’s one of those personable people who can get along with anyone — who could coax conversation out of a lump of snow. People light up around her, and they laugh, and she makes everyone she talks to feel special.

So of course she has no problem with Az skipping out on her. It thaws his heart a little. The panic is still there, though.

“I’m sorry.” He stands from the bed, a twinge of guilt biting at him for just…leaving her here. “I’ll check on her and make sure she’s okay. I’ll come back after.”

Kaeda smiles at him brilliantly. “Go on. She needs you.”

He doesn’t need any more encouragement than that. Later on, he might regret how quickly he darts from the room, as if it’s on fire. But right now, all he thinks of is Y/N.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You end up at the cottage. You’re not sure why. Nor how — you have no recollection of the walk there.

The pain of an aching heart blocks out the cold, at least.

You need…you don’t know what you need.

It feels as though you’re standing still as the world moves too fast around you.

You numbly walk through the front door, forgetting to kick the snow from your shoes. And you stop at the sight of Cassian in the kitchen, stood alone at the counter, his back to you. Your mind can’t register that he’s here, when you expected him to be at the centre of the Solstice festivities, drinking the night away and finding someone to fall into bed with by the end of it.

He turns, unperturbed by your abrupt arrival. “Sandwich break.” He chirps, and then his eyes land on you. The sandwich slips from his hands. “What the fuck?”

You open and close your mouth, not even sure what might come out. There’s a disconnect somewhere. Nothing’s working right.

You just hope it isn’t Azriel’s name that slips past your lips. You don’t want to have to explain your complicated feelings where he’s concerned.

“My father.” You eventually rasp. “He…”

You don’t need to finish the sentence. Cassian knows. He always knows.

He comes striding over to you and pulls you into a bone-crushing hug. And you feel a little deceitful that the tears that immediately begin to fall have nothing to do with what went down with your father. But what’s one more negative emotion to add to the growing pile? You sink into the embrace, accept it greedily. Cassian’s hugs will one day feature in legendary tales, you’re sure.

“I told Az I had a bad feeling about tonight.” He says, pulling back to study you. A rare fury flames his gaze, turning him instantly into the feared opponent that so many other males simply refuse to fight. He clenches his jaw, features harsh for once. “Gods, I just want to go straight to your father’s house and—”

“No.” You quickly cut him off. “Not tonight. Please. I can’t take any more tonight.”

Cass can be stubborn and driven by emotion and he’s damn well attracted to fights like a moth to a flame. But he’s also a fiercely loyal friend who will listen to what you need and act accordingly.

Which is why he gently takes your face in his huge, warm hands, inspects your split lip, and says, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You could kiss him for that, alone.

Maybe you should.

No, you’re not thinking straight.

You don’t want to think at all, as you allow yourself to be seated on the couch, and Cass begins rummaging for whatever scant medical supplies Rhysand’s mother keeps in the cottage. Years under your father’s thumb means that you’ve got the art of emptying your mind to an almost frightening level of perfection. Perhaps an unhealthy coping mechanism, but a necessary one. You force your head to go quiet, to empty.

But then Cassian is perching himself in front of you, a gentle smile on his face.

“I’m totally making this up as I go along.” He admits. “I’ll make it as painless as I can.”

A bizarre thought strikes you that you actually want this to hurt.

You’re not sure what to make of that one.

Luckily for you, you can’t exactly provide much conversation with Cass cleaning the wound on your lip. It’s nice not to have to think beyond the vague hums you give in response to his occasional comments.

But before long, he’s rubbing a salve into the cut — and apologising as you hiss at the sting — and then he tells you, “All done. The bleeding has stopped.”

Your attempt at a smile is more of a grimace. “Thank you.”

The silence in the room is odd. Pressing. Even in the most testing of times, Cassian is known for trying to inject some humour into the situation — he’s a master at easing tension. But he stares at you in a way that strips you bare.

And then he asks, “What happened tonight?”

You frown at the question, not entirely sure how to answer. You know he’s asking in regard to the wound, wanting to know exactly how you got it, but your thoughts are aimed — uncontrollably — in a singular direction, and if you open your mouth, you’re not at all sure that Azriel’s name won’t just roll off your tongue.

“Y/N?” Cassian presses.

“I…” You swallow. It’s a good start. “I think I might be homeless.”

Not exactly an answer. But it seems that’s enough for Cass.

He shifts his position so that he’s able to fold you into his side. He guides your head to his chest, pressing a kiss to your hair.

“No, you’re not. You have this place.” He murmurs. “You’ll always have this place. Or you could move into my room at the dormitories, if you’d like. I’ll even clean it for you.”

That drags a weak, rasping laugh from the depths of your aching chest. “You really are a catch, Cass.”

“Oh, I know. But I’ll clean my room for no other female but you.”

Would that change, you wonder, if he met Kaeda, saw how beautiful she was? He may not have had the pleasure of an introduction yet, but you’re sure that Azriel must have shared at least some information with him and Rhys. They probably know more than you do.

Your curiosity piques, and before you can stop yourself, you’re speaking. “Cass?”

“Yes, sweetpea?”

You should totally backtrack, blurt out something pointless and irrelevant—

“What do you know of Kaeda?”

Or maybe not.

There’s a short pause as Cass seems to mull the question over, his fingers beginning to absentmindedly rake through your hair.

“Not much.” He eventually admits. “Her family aren’t from this camp. Her father is Lord of Camp Fenlaros. I think they’re a wealthy family, highly respected. I don’t know any more than that.”

Which explains why you’d never seen her until the day she’d walked into the forge. You’d certainly remember meeting her before. The Fenlaros Camp sits at the other side of Illyria — the furthest one from Windhaven.

“You don’t need to worry, though.” Cass then says, and you stiffen, wondering if your silence has somehow exposed you. “Az has a good head on his shoulders. He knows what he’s doing.”

Yes, you want to say, because I fucking taught him.

But before you can muster a reasonable response, the door is bursting open.

Azriel strides in, damp hair sticking to cold-bitten cheeks and his chest heaving. His eyes drink in yours and Cassian’s current position, before zeroing in on your face.

“I’ve been looking for you.” He pants.

You stare back at him, and you hate that you feel…angry. You have no right to feel that way. What has Az done, besides what he always intended to do? Exploring your affections was only ever supposed to be a practice run. If he feels ready for the real thing, you should be excited for him.

But quite simply, you’re not.

“Why?” The word comes out too brusque, too harsh. You correct yourself, clearing your throat. “I mean—what for?”

A pause. “I was worried.”

“I got her all cleaned up.” Cass jumps to his feet, gathering the healing supplies in his hands. “It’s not as bad as it looks, thankfully.”

Azriel’s eyes don’t leave your face. “Your father?”

You lower your eyes to your hands, your fingernails of sudden interest to you. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

And you don’t. But as the words leave your mouth, you know you’re not referring to your father’s behaviour. And you think that somehow, Az knows, too.

He stares at you in silence, still breathing a little heavily. And as that silence becomes thick, almost uncomfortable, Cass catches on to it.

He pauses his movements in the kitchen, staring between you and Azriel. It becomes suddenly clear to him that there’s an elephant in the room, and both of you are refusing to glance at it.

You really, really don’t want him to leave you alone with Az right now. You need time to gather your thoughts and feelings and know what you’re not going to say—

“…Anyway…” He clears his throat loudly. “I’m going to head back to the dormitories while the night is still young.” He swivels towards you. “Do you need anything else?”

“I’ve got her.” Az answers before you can. “We’ll be fine here. Go have fun, Cass.”

And, well, Cassian doesn’t need telling twice. So typically of him, he finally scoops his dropped sandwich off the kitchen floor, blows on it, and eats half of it in one bite.

“Happy Solstice, fuckers.” He says around a mouthful of bread. “Come back to the party when you’re finished here.”

You have no plans of doing that. All you want is to climb into bed and cry. But you know there’s no getting out of whatever is about to follow.

“Thanks, Cass.” You murmur quietly, forcing a weak smile.

“Anything for you, sweetpea.”

With the remainder of his sandwich still in hand, his tall frame ducks out of the cottage. The closing of the door is a death knell.

Az stares at you. And then he’s rounding the couch, stopping just inches away.

For the first time in nine years, you’re not sure you can face him. There’s an oily feeling of…of humiliation, that coats you, and it may just worsen if you make eye contact.

“Are you alright?” He breaks the silence, his voice solemn, grave.

You nod. Twist your hands around each other just to give them something to do. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“Thanks.”

“I don’t mean it like that. But your lip—”

“Cassian saw to it, Az.” Finally, you force yourself to make eye contact. And for his sake — or yours — or whatever — you push your mouth into a watery smile. It hurts your lip and it hurts your heart. “It’s really not that bad.”

There’s a momentary pause. Perhaps he’s not expecting you to be so calm in the wake of such an awful day. Little does he know, it’s all a front. Self-preservation.

You almost — almost — flinch, when he steps closer and perches himself on the coffee table in front of you.

“I should have been there.” He presses his lips into a thin line as he studies the wound up close. “I’m sorry.”

You don’t want to talk about this. You can’t talk about this. You may just die if you do. You just…need the night to end. To go away.

And just as Azriel reaches out to brush a finger over your hurt lip, you’ve decided you’ve had quite enough.

You jump up way too quickly for it to be casual, clearing your throat. “Where is Kaeda?”

“…She’s still at the dorms…”

“You shouldn’t have skipped out on her like that, Azriel. It’s rude.”

“I explained to her that you needed me. She understood—”

You whirl around to face him. You dread to think what he might have told her. “Go back to her, Az.”

Does he know you’re begging him, not telling him? You’re not sure.

He studies you like…like he doesn’t understand your demeanour. And then he says, “I will when I’m done here.”

A brusque laugh leaves you. “There’s nothing to be done here. Cassian already helped.”

You see the words hit him. Part of you feels like a wretch for throwing it in his face. He’s done nothing wrong. He owes you nothing.

This is on you for letting your feelings get out of hand. Your eyes shutter, and you draw in a slow, steeling breath.

“I’m very tired, and I just want to go to bed.” You explain quietly. “And I appreciate that you interrupted your night to come and check on me, I do, but there’s nothing that can be done for me. I just…need to sleep.”

Az stares at you again. Swallows. “Then I’ll stay until you fall asleep—”

“Az. Don’t keep Kaeda waiting.”

You can see how torn he is. You almost feel bad. He wants to do right by everyone.

But he can’t do right by you. Not tonight. It’s too late for that.

And maybe that realisation dawns on him, because finally, he pushes to his feet.

“You know where to find me if you need anything.”

You won’t. But you nod, all the same. “Yes.”

“Lock the door.”

“I will.”

He strides to the door. Pauses with his fingers on the handle, like he wants to say something else.

But then he leaves.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The cold hurts so good. Every inhale burns your lungs. Your eyes water against the brisk air.

Pushing yourself hard like this, working against the elements, is precisely what you need. You’ve been up here every morning for the past week, putting your body through its paces before the sky has even lightened.

You’ve got avoiding Azriel as much as possible down to an art form, and when you’ve no choice but to face him, your act of breezing nonchalance, or normality, is so convincing that you almost fool yourself.

Almost.

It’s a routine, if not a strange one.

You pant heavily through the exertion, gazing up through the towering trees as you take a moment to catch your breath. It seems that the harder you push yourself, the more your muscles burn, the less your heart aches. The quiet and solitude has been a welcome companion in the days since—

Snow crunches under boots. You stiffen at the approaching footsteps.

If the males training below catch you doing your exercises up here again, they may do more than just chew you out.

But through the trees, Azriel’s unmistakable form emerges in a halo of early morning light. The nature around you seems to pause and bask in his presence, and you can’t blame it one bit.

Gods, he’s beautiful. Painfully so. Gut-wrenchingly so—

It’s for that reason that you snap your front into place; the one you’ve spent the past week perfecting. You will simply act as you always have — as you always did before that first night you offered Azriel your help — and maybe, hopefully, you’ll even start to believe it.

Maybe it will stop hurting.

“Thought I’d find you up here.” There’s an edge to his voice that makes you think he’s waiting to follow your lead. He smiles tentatively.

You smile widely and hope it’s convincing. “I’d much prefer having smoother terrain to work on, but beggars can’t be choosers, I suppose.”

The rigidity of his shoulders ease. “How many times have you tripped over these rocks?”

“Oh, seven hundred, or so.”

He breathes a laugh, a little white cloud pluming in front of his face, and you do the same.

And it’s bad — it’s really bad — but your thoughts are immediately jumping to Kaeda and assuming her natural grace would hold its brilliance on smooth or rough terrain. There’d probably be no tripping, no falling.

You banish those images quickly.

Sometimes, you’re not sure whether you want to be her, or be in bed with her.

Azriel clears his throat, his face sobering. “Listen, I wanted to talk.”

Oh, gods.

Surely he’s not going to just…confront things, right here, right now, like a reasonable person. You’re not even slightly prepared for that. You claw at your mind in panic, searching for some way out of this besides tucking and rolling down the hill away from him—

“I have an invitation.” He says, and you pause. “Well — Kaeda does.”

Bizarre, that the first thought that hits you is a bleating, please don’t ask me to have a threesome.

You drag your mind straight back out of the gutter and will your face into neutrality. “Oh?”

“…Yeah…” Az rubs the back of his neck. “I know the two of you haven’t been properly introduced, but she’s throwing a party back in her home camp — Fenlaros — and she invited me and said I should bring some friends.”

For a moment or two, you simply don’t know what to say. Going into a rival camp is usually best avoided, given that Illyrian males will look for any excuse for a fight. You don’t know much, admittedly, about the Fenlaros Camp, but Illyrians are Illyrians, and that’s just a fact.

But it makes you question, for the first time, a thought that hadn’t so far occurred to you — why has Kaeda been hanging around Windhaven? You don’t even know the story of when she came here, or for what reason.

And that’s on you, you suppose, for wanting to know as little as possible.

“She doesn’t really know anyone here in Windhaven, besides me.” Az continues. “So she told me to bring you, Rhys and Cass along. I think she’s eager to get to know you.”

You’re silent as a thousand thoughts filter through your mind, one by one. So many things you suddenly want to ask, and yet what comes out is merely, “Fenlaros?”

Az nods. He seems to be studying your reaction closely.

“Is that a good idea? We’re not supposed to breach rival camps without express permission.”

“We have permission. Kaeda’s father is Lord of Fenlaros, and the party will be held at her dwellings. She tells me they’re a tad more civilised there than they are here.”

Hard to believe, of Illyrians. But who are you to talk? You’ve never ventured to another camp like she so boldly has.

You can’t exactly explain your hesitation, besides the obvious — subjecting yourself to being in the company of both Azriel and Kaeda seems unnecessarily cruel. But something else about it also just feels…odd. Just strolling into another camp as though that’s a done thing.

To Kaeda, you suppose it is.

“Look, you don’t have to come.” Az says, reading the caution on your face. “Rhys and Cass are eager — it’s our last chance to enjoy ourselves before training gets intense again. But I wouldn’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with—”

“I’ll come.” You blurt. “Of course, I’ll come.”

Even Az looks a little surprised. He studies you, giving you a moment to retract. And then he smiles. “Alright. Great.”

Maybe going to a party with your friends is exactly what you need — doing something normal, something you would have done without thought before you created this mess for yourself.

Perhaps the key to getting past this is to just…pretend it doesn’t hurt, until it no longer does.

And perhaps getting to know Kaeda, making a friend of her, will even help.

“Listen, I need to get back.” Az tells you, glancing over his shoulder. “We’ll discuss the details later.”

Before you can reply, he’s reaching out and pulling you into a tight hug. His scent envelopes you, soothes and pains you in equal measure. You close your eyes against his chest and find yourself hoping — really hoping — that this ache will go away soon. Azriel’s embraces have always been a place of solace. You don’t want that to have changed.

Just as quickly, he pulls away, dropping a kiss onto your forehead. “I’m really glad you’re coming, Y/N.” He says. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

You’re vaguely aware of the non-committal response you give him. Your mind is suddenly screaming at you.

And as he turns and walks away, you can’t help wondering what the fuck you’ve just got yourself into.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

It’s high up in the skies, two nights later, that the true regret begins to seep in.

Not just because the idea of this party makes anxiety coil tightly in your gut, like something in the air whispers to you that tonight will be a total shit show.

It’s the humiliation that hits you on the way there. An itchy kind of humiliation that you haven’t allowed yourself to feel for a very, very long time.

Not far in front of you, Cassian flies freely, the wind stirring his hair. He always wears the same expression while flying, one that’s a combination of elation, freedom and pride.

A small distance ahead of him, Azriel, too, is the picture of soaring grace. And at his side, Kaeda is the same. Her brilliant hair is like a streak of crimson blood that’s been smeared on the night landscape.

And you — you have to be carried by Rhysand. Like a youngling.

You stopped pitying yourself a long time ago for what your father did to you, the way he stole your ability to fly before you ever really had the chance. It was one of those things you had to come to terms with, because you’d never be able to change it.

That old feeling is returning with a vengeance, now, eating you up from the inside. Seeing Az be able to fly alongside a female, something you’d never be able to do—

“I’ve never been to the Fenlaros Camp.” Rhys speaks into your ear, ripping you out of your thoughts. From the way his fingers rub soothing circles into your hip, you know he didn’t miss your bleak expression.

You fix your gaze on the sprawling landscape below. Noises are drifting up to you, becoming louder. You must be close.

“Az says there’s nothing to be worried about.” You answer quietly. “But do you really think all will be well? It doesn’t take much for the three of you to find trouble when there’s alcohol in your system. If you land yourself in deep shit, you’ll be punished.”

His violet eyes sparkle with mischief. “I’m the High Lord’s son — their future High Lord. Everyone is too scared shitless to punish me.”

That’s not entirely true, and he knows it. You shoot him an unamused glance. “Rhys—”

“Hey.” He cuts you off, squeezing your waist. “Look.”

Your eyes fall below, and you pause — blink.

War camp is not the correct term to describe what you’re descending towards.

Windhaven is a war camp. Windhaven is brutal, and cruel, and — quite frankly — unpleasant. You can spend a lifetime there and never feel at home amongst the crumbling, sparse buildings and watchful eyes.

Fenlaros is a small town.

You glimpse barracks and training rings, an armoury and a common hall — all things that Windhaven has. But Windhaven doesn’t have the pristine, secure buildings, looking as new as if they were built yesterday. Warm glows emanate from the inside out, and it feels almost ludicrous to consider that this is a place built to train for war. It just looks like…like a place someone could call home.

You’re close enough to pick up the sounds of music and laughter — all sounds of a place that’s lively despite the late hour. It’s Kaeda’s lead that your three friends follow, and it doesn’t surprise you one bit when she begins a smooth incline to what looked, from above, to be the largest, grandest building in the place.

Suitable dwellings for a Lord and his family, indeed.

Rhys is the last to touch the ground outside of the building. As he sets you down, Cassian lets out an approving whistle.

“This certainly beats the dormitories.” He says, and Kaeda grins.

“Welcome to Fenlaros.” Is all she answers.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Nothing is ever as bad when the alcohol begins to flow. You even start to vaguely feel like…like you might actually enjoy yourself. The house is so big, filled to the brim with so many people, that you’ve only seen Azriel and Kaeda a couple of times in passing.

This sets off a tiny little battle in your innermost thoughts. Part of you wants to know what they’re up to. The other part of you really fucking doesn’t.

But so far, the people of the Fenlaros Camp are pleasant enough that you’re plied consistently with conversation, too occupied to wonder what might or might not be happening elsewhere in the building. You may just survive this party yet.

You’re just taking a moment to grab yourself another drink when you feel a touch on your shoulder. You turn, and you almost start at the sight of Kaeda smiling at you.

Gods, she really is beautiful.

“I feel like I haven’t had a chance to speak with you properly.” She says, and she’s right. There were very brief official introductions when she arrived to guide you all to Fenlaros, but so far, there’s been no one-on-one.

A fact of which you don’t know whether you’re relieved or disappointed.

“This place is…not like Windhaven.” You breathe a laugh. “Thank you — again — for the invite.”

“Of course. Azriel and I have been getting to know each other for a few months now. That’s all it is so far, and I don’t know where it might go, but I’d like to know his friends as well.”

Enough alcohol has settled into your system that the mention of Az’s name only gives a small twinge. You grin back at Kaeda. “It’s a relief to have another female around.”

“Gods, I’ll bet.” Her laugh is so, so brilliant. Like trickling water or birdsong or something. “Has it really been just the four of you all this time?”

“Pretty much. Since we were nine. A few odd love interests have come and gone, but nothing ever lasted.”

“Well.” She smiles. “Perhaps my arrival in Windhaven was a blessing in disguise.”

“I meant to ask, actually, what brought you there in the first place—”

“Don’t look now, but I think you may have bagged yourself an admirer.”

You pause at the interruption, your thoughts slow to catch up. And then you’re following Kaeda’s gaze to a group of boisterous males. One of whom is eyeing you with an intense hunger. As your eyes meet, one side of his mouth tips up into a smirk.

“That’s Thedis.” Kaeda tells you. “I’ve known him since we were younglings. He’s a good male.”

The way he’s drinking you in makes you not really care, in that moment, whether he’s a good male or a fucking terrible one.

“Listen, I’m going to go find Az.” Kaeda tells you, and her eyes glitter. “Why don’t you introduce yourself?”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You give each other your names, and it’s all heavy petting from there.

Thedis doesn’t provide much in the way of conversation, but then that doesn’t matter when the music is loud, and the packed room is dancing, and he’s grinding against you.

He spins you in his arms, hands palming at your hips. You lean into the touch, knowing that his eyes are all over every one of your movements. He’s desperate for you. You have him eating out of the palm of your hand.

But it’s a different pair of hazel eyes that find yours from not far away. A more peculiar pair that you know so well.

Azriel dances nearby, Kaeda moving against him in a similar manner. But he stares at you. Intensely stares at you. The way his eyes rove over your outfit makes you feel like you’re actually wearing something worth marvelling over, and you didn’t just have to make do with what clothing you keep at Rhysand’s mother’s cottage.

The velvet top is pretty, though. Cinched at the waist and accentuating the curves of your breasts. You’re not certain if Thedis has stared at your face or your cleavage more.

But does it really matter, when you’re both aiming for the same, mindless goal, only desiring one thing from each other?

He surely doesn’t seem to think so as his hands explore your body. Azriel watches the entire thing with an unreadable expression.

You rip your gaze away, force it elsewhere. The room is so full that the air is stuffy, and your head spins a little. Against the far wall, a male has his tongue down Rhysand’s throat. They’re touching each other so desperately that it wouldn’t surprise you if they whipped their clothes off and began fucking there and then. The male would wear it as a badge of honour that he’d been with the future High Lord. Amongst the dancing bodies, Cassian is getting a similar treatment from a pretty, blonde female.

One song morphs into the next, and this one is faster, more frenetic. It spurs the couples around you on, and a sensual charge fills the space as if the damn lute players are strumming an aphrodisiac straight into the room.

Thedis slides his hands down to your ass, and he squeezes, lowering his head to brush his lips against yours.

“Let’s find somewhere more private.” He breathes onto your mouth. And he adds, without filter, “I want to fuck you.”

You tilt your head up, aiming to make contact with his lips.

The kiss never lands.

Everything happens too fast to register. But suddenly, Thedis is on the floor, and Azriel is on top of him, and the shadowsinger’s fist goes flying into his face.

Complete chaos erupts from there. Some people are darting out of the way, while others form a circle around the two males on the ground. The music stops, replaced by loud jeering and whoops of excitement. Azriel delivers a second punch, and Thedis returns it with one of his own, and then they’re rolling on the floor and you don’t know what to do.

“Azriel, what the fuck?” There’s no way he hears you above all the noise. You look around for Rhys, Cass, Kaeda, fucking anyone, but they all must be lost in the fray, the pushing and shoving.

You swear loudly, and you’re jostled this way and that as you push through people and try to reach the fight. You’re shoved forward just in time to see Azriel’s shadows snake around Thedis’s throat and squeeze—

“Azriel!” You snap. You try to grab the back of his shirt, but someone is grabbing the back of yours, trying to stop you from stopping him. You round on the Fenlaros male, shoving him away from you. “Do not touch me.”

And fuck, that’s the worst thing you could have done.

It doesn’t take much for Illyrians to start a fight. Male, female, it doesn’t matter — they’re a violent people, and as soon as you hit them with a punch or a shove, they’re accepting it as a provocation.

Which would be bad enough in Windhaven, where you’ve seen things get out of hand time and time again.

But you’re not in Windhaven. These aren’t your people. You’re in Fenlaros. And there’s now two members of Windhaven going up against two members of Fenlaros.

They take it as an affront from a rival camp.

And all hell breaks loose.

azriel tags: @hanasakr @positivewitch @ruler-of-hades @brekkershadowsinger @nightscourtt @imperfect0angel @luna-1-3-5 @hyacinthoideshispanica @lucyysthings @lahoete @littlemoonash @blacksstarrynight @azriels-mate123 @ghostly-poetic @frieddesigninspiringquotesslime @a-frog-with-a-laptop @illyriansimp @morrie-rose @passingthroughfireandshadow @illyrian-dreamer @azrielsbabyg @96jnie @mich0731 @mulansaucey @truthtellerfanclub @acourtofbooksandmagic @insightsonmylife @basicbittywitty @curbside-cyanide @acourtofchaosandmess @123345566 @starrynights-frostbites @eos-princess @thesillyyogourt @ona-raising-07-l @acediahamartia @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @polli05927 @asdfjklbooks @azriel-luvr @amysangel @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @wildflowernightmere @audie-writes @aaronwarnerswifereal @starxqt @lulufairbank @laurzwrites @livelaughlovenestaarcheron @girlwith-thecinder-blockgarden @jjlevin @smitty-werbenjagermenjenson @spikertrash @kindagoldylocks @barbiezambie @kht1998 @soupghoul @nyctophiliawitch @gracie1234567891011 @gaymistakeboi @luvmxo @rinalouu @microwaveallthedemons @starlightshowdown

1K notes · View notes

heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 6 months ago

Text

On Muddied Stones

Part Three of this pirate!au. Stubborn, self-sacrificing love because sometimes we don't realize what's best for the people you love is you. 18+ warning, beginnings of smut that gets cut off, MDNI. Angst and a bit of a cliffhanger. ~2.5k words

Your husband guides you into the store, smiling easily as he leads you towards a mannequin, "Welcome to Vixen's. Mari is the best at what she does."

You tilt your head curiously, "And pirates would know which seamstresses are the best?"

He laughs a little, "She is the best designer, treasure, you'll see," and he lowers his voice to lean down and whisper, "But she's also the best weapons smuggler on this coast."

"Oh," you murmur, surprise pitching in your voice.

He grins widely at you and pulls your hand up to kiss your fingers, "Pick out anything you want, love, I'll be right back." You watch quietly for a moment as he steps away and disappears behind a curtain leading to the back of the store.

You start to busy yourself by picking over materials and colors of the displayed clothes, eventually settling on a dark gray, cotton cloak with a hood. It will suit the purpose of blending in with a crowd. You fidget with the material between your fingers, lost in thought.

"Is that all you picked?" Jason's voice draws you to attention and your gaze flicks to his.

"It's all I needed," You tell him, eyes trailing to the women gracefully walking out from behind the curtain. She gives you a knowing smile and a wave.

"Ah, I figured as much. Mari will have some things sent to the ship for you," he says idly, taking the cloak from your hands.

"Things?" You question, "But I don't need–"

"You do need, my love," Jason cuts in, gently pulling the cloak around your shoulders and fastening the clasp. "I took you to my ship with nothing but the clothes on your back. Allow me to remedy that, and have things of your own brought to our cabin."

He leans forward and presses a kiss to the crown on your head, then draws the hood up, voice fond, "A perfect fit. Do you like it?"

"I do, thank you," you answer softly, and you find yourself leaning into his touch.

"Good, I'm glad you approve, darling," Jason says, tracing his thumb over your cheek affectionately, "I would keep you like this forever, if I could, but I believe we have more things on your list to buy."

"Don't we have to pay?" You ask, eyes darting over to Mari, who offers you a sly smile and a wink.

"All taken care of," Jason answers, nodding to Mari as he takes your hand, leading you back out onto the streets. "Shall we get your hair pins next, my love?"

"I– yes," You mumble, reeling slightly at how sweet this is. How much of your husband you still recognize in the man most people fear. It makes guilt coil in your stomach, at the thought that you've been planning to leave. But how much can a few weeks of kindness make up for years of separation?

He squeezes your hand, and leads you along to a stall with a variety of scarves and pins and handkerchiefs, "Here, treasure. Take your time."

You pick over the hair pins slowly, selecting three. A simple, glossy black pin. A shiny silver pin, dotted with glistening red gems. And pin engraved with a golden snake, its eyes made of piercing green emeralds.

"And this one," your husband says, holding up a pin with a rose etched from silver.

You falter, "Our gardens had roses. You planted them after we got married."

"Aye, I remember," he says fondly, and carefully sets the pin in your hair. He nods in approval and digs a few coins out of his leather pouch, dropping it in the vendor's hand, all without taking his eyes from you, "You look beautiful."

He steps closer to you, guides you to his body with his hands on your hips, "So beautiful. I always remembered you in our garden. Surrounded by flowers, petals in your hair. I'd imagine children running past your skirts, a babe in your arms. And your laughter. Always you smiling." He's rambling, his voice gentle as he leans down to press a kiss to your shoulder.

You exhale shakily at the thought of children, "It's a shame we can't have a garden on the ship."

He laughs and nuzzles your throat for a moment before pulling back, "Mm. Yes, treasure, a shame. I could build you a new garden, a little place to keep your flowers. Would you like that?"

You blink at him, and the pins in your pocket feel heavy. You're keenly aware of the rose in your hair. You feel your voice come out unsteady, because you've always been able to see that life with him, "What about your ship and crew?"

He lifts your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles, "My ship will be fine. My crew is more than capable of keeping her afloat. And I've enough gold to keep us comfortable for the rest of our and our children's lives."

You're not exactly sure what to do with that, "I guess raising children on a pirate ship might not be the best environment," You murmur and your eyes fix on a merchant's caravan for a moment.

He laughs, his hand settling on the small of your back to lead you to the next stall, "We can have both love. A few weeks at sea, a few in your garden. There's nothing I wouldn't give you. Now, books next, darlin'? Something to fill your lovely head and the ship's library?"

"The ship has a library?" You ask curiously, wondering if you had missed it when you were exploring his ship.

"I'm having one built," he drawls, like it's nothing at all.

"You're- What? Where?" You stumble out, trying to figure where there could possibly be room on the ship for a library.

"In one of the storage rooms, treasure, it wasn't being used anyway. Ah, here we are," Jason nudges you towards a vendor with more books than you've ever seen, effectively ending your line of questioning, "Pick out whatever catches your eye. I'll be right back."

He presses a kiss to your cheek, and you watch as he lazily heads over to women selling baskets.

You hastily pick out the first book that looks interesting, and Jason raises an eyebrow at you when he strolls back to your side, "Only one book, love?"

"Just one is fine," You answer, reaching to take the basket.

He moves the basket from your reach, "Pick out a few more, darlin'. You're not being greedy. It'll be good to have something to do at sea, right?"

He watches you closely as you nod, and go to pick out two more books a little more carefully, "Good. Now pick out two more."

You frown, "This is enough."

"Two more, treasure," he says softly, reaching for the three books in your hands. He pulls them from you gently and sets them in the basket, "go on."

He hums in approval when you pick out two more novels, and he drops coins in the old vendor's hands. He takes the books from you, "Very good, love. What did you want next?"

"That was everything," You answer quietly.

He smiles brightly, "Then, there's a bakery I'd like to show you. They have croissants, love, with chocolate on the inside. But, first," he says, mischief glinting in his eyes as he leads you away from the marketplace, and into an empty alley.

He places the basket on the cobblestones and gently pushes your hood back, admiring your face as you watch him with confused eyes, "What are we doing, Jason?"

"This," he mumbles, pressing a firm kiss to your lips. It catches you off guard, and he kisses you again and again until you're both panting, "so perfect, my treasure." He trails kisses up to your ear, nipping at your skin, "so clever and lovely and sweet."

"Jason," You protest as he starts to lift your skirts. He hums softly, kissing your throat as he turns you around to face the wall, pressing his stiffening cock to your backside.

"Jason," You try again as he traces his fingers up your thighs, exploring and relearning what makes you shiver.

"You're trembling," he notes, pressing more kisses along your neck, "Don't worry, love, I've got you."

"Someone could see," You mumble, eyes darting as you brace a hand against the wall, his weight behind you making you unsteady.

"Let them," he says simply, and the sound of his belt clinking makes you tense.

"Jason– wait, I–" You stumble out and he freezes, fingers stilling against your thighs and mouth leaving your skin, "I feel like a whore."

He makes a choked noise and drops your skirts, turning you back around with panic in his eyes, "Love, no, I would never– the last thing I want in the world is to make you feel that way. You're my partner, not some wench," he says your name, strangled and pained, "I love you. I swear it. I wasn't planning to– this was the first secluded spot I could think of, treasure. All I ever think of is how much I want you by my side. This wasn't supposed to hurt you. I never want to hurt you."

"I'm not hurt," You mumble, embarrassment and unease settling in your stomach as you avoid his eyes.

"Love," he breathes out, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," You say quickly, adjusting your clothes and cloak, "I– this is what your life is, isn't it? Danger and thrills and all that comes with being a pirate."

He frowns, reaching for you, starts to say your name. "Will you take me to the pastry shop?" You cut him off instead.

He studies you, concern and apologies written clear on his face. He then nods slowly, and bends down to pick up the basket filled with your books, "This isn't– treasure, I've only ever been with you. You know that, right?"

You nod, "I know."

Jason doesn't quite look like he believes you, but offers you his hand hesitantly. You don't miss the way his shoulders drop in relief when you take it, "The bakery, then," he says gently, leading you slowly through the winding alleys and back onto the streets lined with stores.

"Jason," You call, pausing outside an expensive looking shop.

His gaze snaps to you immediately, voice eager yet careful, "Yes, love?"

You gesture to the store, "They sell rings."

His eyes light up and he steps closer to you, "You want me to buy you a ring, love?" He exhales softly when you nod, and he lifts your hand to kiss your wrist.

"Can I wait out here? With the books? I'd like to sit on the bench. And, ah, be surprised by what you pick," You say, drawing out your words.

"Of course, darling. Anything," he agrees easily, immediately guiding you to the bench and placing the basket next you. "I won't be long." He hesitates again, before bending down placing a tender kiss to your cheek.

You watch as he disappears into the store, and every fiber of your being knows this is your only chance. If you're ever going to leave, to let him go so both of you can move on, now is all you're ever going to get.

It makes you sick with guilt, thinking of the way he looks at you with adoration, but he's in love with a memory of the past. He should be focused on his future. He's a pirate lord now, and he has a full life, a new family, and new adventures where you don't fit.

To tie him to a life of flower-filled gardens when you've seen first hand how much he loves the salt and sea, is something you could never do.

You stand on shaky feet. You leave the basket of books on the bench, you take the hair pins. Jason will look for you. His crew will look for you. He might even think you've been kidnapped. So, you have to be clever. You've always been clever.

You force a practiced, perfect smile to your face, one you've worn for the past two years around Gotham's finest nobles. You approach a young woman, "Excuse me, Miss? I love your cloak, would you want to trade it for mine?"

She looks surprised, but when her eyes dart over you and lock on the insignia engraved on the fastening of your cloak, she seems much more interested, "Oh? That's– a cloak from Vixen's?" You nod innocently, and she smiles greedily, "yes, let's trade."

You both unpin your cloaks, and as you walk away, drawing the light gray material over your head, you hear her chirp about how naive people from outside Star City are, how they don't appreciate how hard it is to get any clothes by Mari.

You have to be fast. You've learned how to be fast, to disappear into crowded streets during the years Jason was gone. It's not long before you're standing in front of an elderly man ticking off items on a list. "Sir?"

He looks up at you kindly, but looks can be so deceiving. It's a risk you're willing to take, you decide, and force back the thoughts that it's unfair to be testing your husband in this way. You hadn't meant for it to become a test, but in a way, it is.

Lies spill easily from your tongue, "I heard your wagons are traveling to a village near my sister's home. Is it possible I could pay for passage to ride with you?"

He smiles at you, eyes still soft and kind, "of course, Miss. There's room. You're welcome to sit in the wagon," he offers you an aged, calloused hand, and you take it as he helps you into the wagon.

"Thank you," You murmur, grateful you didn't have to steep to bargaining with the hair pins just yet.

He nods, voice soft and knowing, "We'll be leaving in just a moment, Miss," he draws the canvas of the wagon closed, and you settle yourself between boxes and sacks of goods.

You busy yourself with picking at your sleeve as the caravan starts to move, the rumbling and shaking doing nothing to calm your nerves. You keep your head down, and wonder if he's even noticed you're gone.

The horses whine and cobblestones turn to dirt roads, the sounds of the city grow dull. You risk a glance out the wagon towards the port city. There's no smoke from fires, no screams or alarms raised.

It had been so easy. So painfully simple. And there's no way for him to track you down. No way for him to know if you're still in the city, on ship, or in a carriage. There's no trail for him to follow. No lighthouse that leads to you.

Tears start to spill down your face before you even realize you're crying. You tug your knees to your chest. You're heading inland, far from any ports where ships could chase you. If you went through enough towns, you'd be impossible to trace.

You could disappear almost entirely. And why would he look for you? Abandon his crew and the sea to find you?

It was for the best, you tell yourself as you muffle your tears into your traded cloak, for both you. It had to be done. You had to leave.

There was never any other choice for either of you, than to end the dying chapter.

Part Four | Even More Headcannons

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #18+ mdni #pirate!au

399 notes · View notes

sexchangesthegeneration · 17 days ago

Text

† EVANESCENT

summary: years have passed since anakin skywalker betrayed your trust, yet you're constantly tortured by his presence in your mind.

pairing: darth vader x reader

warnings: angst, cliffhanger? kind of.

a/n: i saw nosferatu weeks ago and i couldn't get this off my mind so i had to share it with you! includes my favorite quote from the movie, i hope you like it!

The familiarity of the garden came to bring you some sort of odd comfort, despite the cruel breeze, despite the darkness it held. He stood before you once again, like many times before.

You had stopped trying to understand what this place was a long time ago. A place you only see when you lay your head on your pillow, a place you're sucked into as soon as your eyes flutter shut.

His presence should fill you with joy. Yet it never does. Maybe it's the knowledge in the back of your head, that the man standing a couple feet from you is dead. A fleeting memory, a fading picture, nothing more.

Even during his lifetime as Anakin Skywalker, you could never understand the dynamic between the two of you. To call it a friendship would be improper. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't dismiss the way his gaze would linger on you, the way his slightest feather-like touches made you feel.

Unspoken feelings and words weighed on your shoulders even now, despite the years that have flown by since you've last spoken to him. It created a fog in your mind then, one that didn't seem to lift with the passing of time.

You've grown older — that much was clear to him. Your cheekbones were more defined, the childlike sparkle long gone from your beautiful eyes. He could've sworn you've also grown an inch or two, though it didn't make much of a difference to him; he was still a head taller than you.

You could only see the outline of his figure, but you'd recognize it anywhere. Anyone would. The sound that filled your ears each time he took a breath served as warning to many who had the misfortune to come face to face with him, and it didn't fail to fill you with dread either.

"What do you want?" You asked, your brows furrowed with an emotion you couldn't quite describe — frustration, anger, fear perhaps.

He didn't answer. He stood still like a statue, and you were almost convinced he didn't hear you, had he not tilt his head slightly.

That didn't satisfy you, of course. You took a step closer, the soil cold and moist beneath your bare feet. Once again you spoke up, your voice just a bit harsher, louder than before.

"Why are you here?"

He always admired your determination to get what you wanted. You stood in front of a man who kept the galaxy in terror for the past six years now and yet, your stubborn nature didn't allow you to quiver, to crumble under his unforgiving gaze.

"You watched me cry and beg on my knees for you not to turn away from me. Was that not enough? Have you come here to continue your torture?" You pressed further and this time, you told yourself you wouldn't back down until you got the answers you'd been seeking.

His mind was almost reeling at your defiant determination. It almost reminded him of when you were younger, how you'd demand that you go on some sort of misadventure together. It was a quality he'd once enjoyed in you, now it was vexing and bothersome.

His eyes narrowed at your tone, irritation flowing through his veins. His fingers clenched into a fist as he forced himself to remain calm, despite how unnatural it was for him to do so.

"Silence." He spoke, his voice deep and menacing — the exact opposite of the man she once knew.

"Answer me!" You demanded, your own hands holding onto your nightgown. "You owe me that much."

It only took him three long strides to close the distance between you, his gloved fingers curling around your jaw. His head tilted to the side once more, as he leaned closer. "I owe you nothing, girl." He hissed. "It seems you forget who you're talking to."

He, on the other hand, knew very well who he was talking to. You were the same girl he once grew so unfathomably attached to, and he wasn't planning on letting go.

His grip on your face loosened slightly as he tilted your head back, his thumb caressing your skin.

"Soon, I shall no longer be a shadow to you. Soon, our flesh shall embrace and we shall be as one."

Those words sent a shiver down your spine, but he didn't give you time to react. He was gone as fast as he appeared, leaving you alone in the darkness.

#hayden christensen #star wars #anakin skywalker #darth vader #rory's fics 🐭#darth vader x reader #anakin skywalker x reader

95 notes · View notes

thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year ago

Text

the diamond

lilac, chapter seventeen

a/n: idk if I should say i'm sorry or you're welcome. i guess it depends on what kind of day you're having as you read this.

summary: “did you really think a little bit of paperwork could stop me? Could stop us from being together?”

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, dark, angst, lumberjack AU, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, kidnapping, crying, violence, cliffhanger

word count: 1717

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

previous chapter | series masterlist | next chapter

masterlist | join my taglist

You didn’t recognise the opulent apartment you now found yourself in. Not that it really came as a shock. You properly only knew of a fraction of the properties Preston’s family owned.

With gilded details and tall windows, you did however recognise the view as the familiar twinkle of the New York City skyline sparkled back at you.

Scarcely breathing, you didn’t dare to even shift as you sat on the edge of a bed, its red silk sheets burned the nerves across your legs and worsened the nauseating sting at the back of your throat.

Turning back to face you, Preston stepped up close and said, “Let’s get this off of you, shall we?” before he slowly peeled off the tape covering your lips, but as soon as he had rid you of it, you reeled forward slightly and spat directly in his face. The angry dollop slid down across his forehead and over the still freshly pink scar that split his dark eyebrow. But, to your horror, instead of getting angry, all your action did was conjure a dark chuckle deep within his chest, “I missed you too, doll,” you watched him reach up and wipe the saliva away before his fingers drifted down into his pocket and produced a switchblade that he promptly popped out with a flourish. Sucking in a sharp breath, you braced yourself, expecting for him to strike, only he didn’t. The knife instead sliced the tape constricting your ankles and then through the ones at your wrists, “there,” he shot you a bone-chilling smile, “much better.”

Glaring back at him, almost in disbelief at the measures he’d evidently be willing to take, you shuddered, “I-I have a restraining order against you.”

“You do,” he nodded matter a factly, “why, did you really think a little bit of paperwork could stop me? Could stop us from being together?” your frame jumped jaggedly as you felt his touch slither up your sides, “we’re soulmates, you and I. Nothing, and I mean nothing, can keep us apart,” he breathed as he leaned in closer and pressed his lips to yours. Staying as still as you possibly could, the sting of tears rolled down your cheeks as he soon leaned back, a sour look now tainting his features, “kiss me back,” he growled through gritted teeth, “we haven’t seen each other in two months, so kiss me the fuck back. Show me how much you’ve missed me.”

Choking down a sob, you willed your lips to meet his again, trembling fretfully as you gave him what he wanted, the forceful feeling of his tongue invading your mouth forced a petrified whimper to escape your lungs, one that he mistook as praise as one of his ring adorned hands came up to clasp your jaw possessively.

When he finally pulled back, leaving just a sliver of air between you, a question left your quivering lips.

“Preston, where are we?”

“Nowhere important,” his dark eyes trailed one of the tears rolling down your face, “don’t worry, this is just temporary till the morning. Gosh, you look so beautiful when you cry…”

“W-what’s happening in the morning? Where are we going?”

“To this little island my dad’s got in the Caribbean. You’ll like it, trust me. It’s got some of the bluest water you’ve ever seen,” he smirked before briefly turning his head to the rough-looking man posted by the door as a guard, “hey, go fetch me a drink.”

“Right away, sir,” he complied.

As Preston turned his gaze back to you, his head began to shake as it washed down the length of your body, “what is this dress you’re wearing? You know I hate you in green on you.”

“I-I’m sorry. I could go change if you–”

But your sentence crumbled into nothing as you felt the cold tip of his knife trail up your leg, “oh, there’s no need for that, doll,” the blade scraped over your skin, up the slit where your wrap dress had parted like a curtain over your thigh, never hard enough to actually draw blood, but just enough to rip up a layer or two of flesh. He continued after he reached the top of your thigh, dragging it up your velvet dress till he slipped it under the knot that held your garment closed, and cut clean through it. The slash didn’t automatically cause the dark green fabric to fall open completely, but Preston didn’t hesitate to unwrap you like a birthday present, “damn..” he groaned as he pushed the dress open, revealing your lack of undergarments beneath, “would you look at that… you’re not wearing anything underneath this… ” you squeezed your eyes shut as he then grazed the tip of his knife over your skin, from the peak of your breast to low down on your stomach, he trailed it like he would his wicked tongue, in some sick and twisted up way caressing you with the weapon, “tell me, doll, just why aren’t you? I’d love to think this is all for me, but you didn’t know we’d be reunited tonight, so who is it for?” rage gradually began to harshen his tone, “who?” as you found yourself unable to form any words at all, “is it that guy? What did you call him… Frank? Have you been whoring yourself out to Frank? Not wearing anything underneath your dresses and making it easy for him to just slide in and use what belongs to me?” nicking the curve of your waist, he then shook you as he barked, “answer me!” successfully drawing a shrill scream from your lungs as you squeezed your eyes shut even tighter.

Just as you feared he’d give you more than just a shy scratch, the double doors to the bedroom creaked open and in stepped the guard. Without another word, Preston’s presence disappeared.

Cautiously fluttering your bloodshot eyes open once more, you saw as the guard settled back into his place and Preston clutched a stout crystal glass, hastily downing the dark amber liquid before slamming it onto a side table. Trying your best to cover yourself back up, you watched as Preston folded up the switchblade and stuffed it back into his pocket.

Letting out a deep sigh, he then dipped his fingers into his dark suit jacket, and from an inner pocket, fished out a small velvet box.

“I got you a new ring, by the way,” he huffed, opening it up as he stepped back to where you sat, “this one’s bigger, like I promised.”

Sitting down on the crimson sheets beside you, he seized your trembling hand and slid the extravagant band into place, gripping your palm painfully as you glanced down at the massive diamond hauntingly glimmering back at you.

“You like it?”

The silver felt as if it burned your finger, like it had been dipped in hot searing acid mere seconds before sliding into place over your knuckles. But still, you just offered him a shaky nod as more tears dripped from your chin.

Lifting your glare from the colossal rock, you looked over at the guard and attempted to subtly catch his eye.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Preston swiftly noticed as his gaze never strayed far from you, “are you really so stupid that you think one of my guys will help you get away from me? Seriously? No amount of crocodile tears can get them to betray me,” locking his fingers around your jaw, you felt his hot breath graze the shell of your ear, “they’re loyal to me, to the Humphrey name,” casting his glace towards the guard, he snapped his free fingers, “hey, you! Look at my fiancé,” and to your horror, parted your ruined dress, “isn’t she beautiful? Answer me.”

“Yes, sir,” his reply had a military, nearly robotic lack of feelings to it, but nevertheless managed to still scratch Preston’s itch.

With his right, inked hand, Preston groped your breast firmly, “these gorgeous tits,” before sliding his unwanted touch further down your trembling body, “this round ass and this tight fucking cunt, all belongs to me,” he growled, before stretching his palm out towards the guard, “give me your lighter,” to which the harsh man swiftly obeyed, “I want everyone to know so, no matter what happens, no matter if you lose your ring again or what, I want everyone to know,” peeling his extravagant pinkie ring off, the swirly H that was embossed on it indicated it was his family ring that he now held in his grasp, harshly commanded the guard, “hold her still,” before he flicked on the lighter and held the flame under the seal, heating it up till the metal nearly glowed. Tuning out your screams of searing agony, Preston pressed the scorching crest to the very top of your exposed thigh and branded you like you were just a stock animal, “there,” he waved a hand for the guard to let go of you, “that should do the trick.”

As you shuttered in pain, Preston drew you in so close that you ended up in his lap, your spine pressed up against his chest and a horrifying hardness determined beneath your bottom.

“What do you think, doll? Should I let him stand there and watch us fuck?” he rocked selfishly below you, “maybe tonight will be the night I finally knock you up–”

His vile words were cut short as a series of gunshots suddenly went off on the other side of the door.

“You,” Preston waved to the guard, “go see what’s going on.”

Pulling out a gun, the man then slipped out only for the symphony of struggle to fill the apartment further.

“Shit,” you heard Preston mutter in alarm before he conjured his knife once more.

But when the scuffle abruptly stopped and silence washed over the luxurious apartment, only a moment passed before the grand double doors slammed open and in the threshold, with a gun firmly trained in Preston’s direction, stood the blood-soaked visage of Frank.

Moving just as fast, Preston shifted behind you, hauling you up to your feet and holding you to him like a shield as you felt the razor-like edge of his blade press against your throat.

#lea’s writing #lilac series #lumberjack!frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle fic #the punisher fic #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher x reader #frank castle series #lumberjack au #frank castle hurt/comfort #frank castle angst

214 notes · View notes

genericpuff · 1 year ago

Text

The Mishandling of LO's S3 Midseason Hiatus - Part 1

So Lore Olympus' return is right around the corner, and I realize I've never actually talked about the S3 midseason finale. I think I said I was going to, but then I just sorta didn't, probably because I was still reeling in the absolute absurdity of it for weeks afterwards. In hindsight, I should have written about it back when it was still fresh, but I feel like I can do it just as much - if not more - justice writing about them in hindsight, now that they've had time to sit and I've seen what Rachel and WT are clearly planning to do after the comic ends (whether or not they succeed... that's a different story).

CAUTION: THIS IS PART 1 OF A 3 PART SERIES IN WHICH I WILL BE SPOILING MUCH OF EPISODES 251-253. THIS EPISODE CONTAINS DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE INVOLVING STRANGULATION. THIS WILL BE A LONG POST. BRACE YOURSELF.

So one of the things that really motivated me to finally talk about this was a conversation that happened recently in the ULO Discord - the realization that there are many readers who still don't know what happened after the free to read finale cliffhanger.

Y'know, the one where Hades gets possessed by Kronos and attempts to choke Persephone-

Now, awful dark jokes aside about how Persephone frankly deserves to have her balloon head popped, this was a wild cliffhanger to leave on for free readers, but the strange thing this time around - unlike with the previous midseason hiatus - is that this is where the cliffhanger has stood for free readers for the past 3 months, and it will be 4 months by the time the series returns.

And frankly... this just highlights a huge problem with LO's writing, because this cliffhanger? Like all the others, it's literally resolved within the next episode. The one that's currently under the FP lock.

Man, isn't it a little fucked up that we only ever get trigger warnings when it's concerning Persephone? Where was the warning for when Minthe got turned into a plant? Where was the warning for the entire episode that depicted Hera's trauma from Kronos and how it's still affecting her in the present? It's always either the Persephone, Hades, or Apollo focused episodes that get the trigger warnings, they couldn't care less about the violence being done onto other people in the story.

Anyways. Episode 251 opens up by reminding us, oh yeah, Kassandra exists!

Remember back in Episode 227 when Psyche stole Apollo's USB drive (and by "stole", I mean she picked it up off the ground where Apollo had conveniently dropped it?) And they found a folder with a picture of Kassandra? Well, Episode 251 opens by reminding us of her... 24 episodes later. SEVEN MONTHS OF REAL LIFE TIME, LITERALLY THE LENGTH OF BOTH THE SEASON 2 AND SEASON 3 MIDSEASON HIATUSES COMBINED-

Anyways, I guess Rachel finally figured out what she was gonna do with Kassandra after all that time, and it's... really stupid.

But wait, don't worry about that yet, because only the comic's opening reminds us of Kassandra, we gotta establish the title first and get back to that cliffhanger from before, the one that free to read users have been waiting 4 months to see.

(pay attention to the episode titles here btw, it's probably one of Rachel's lamest 3 parter title sequences yet)

Turns out Kronos is still intent on getting his hands on Hera, even though we've literally already seen Kronos haunting Hera. Is he just a ghost? A hallucination of her traumatized mind? We don't know, it never really explains itself. So Kronos is still looking for Hera.

(kinda weird that we're getting all these redrawn fullbody angles of Hades-possessed-by-Kronos choking his noodle-bodied wife who is doing literally NOTHING to actually fight back besides yelling at him, but okay.)

Turns out Hades isn't really hyped about this choking game going on between his dad and his niece wife, so he goes full on "release the beast" Naruto mode on his ass.

And that's it. That's literally the conflict resolved. The cliffhanger that free to read users were left with over the 4 month hiatus is resolved literally within a handful of panels and Hades just "believing enough" to save his wife.

And then that's just it, it cuts away, and we get this sorta awkward conversation between Persephone and Hades (now himself again) over the fact that he just choked out his wife.

The scene transitions to Hades waking up in his bed (literally that last shot of him and Persephone was it, it transitions immediately). I'm trying not to use up Tumblr's 30 image posting limit so I'm not posting the 3 fucking copy pasted panels of this that just involves Hades waking up, use your imagination lmao

There's literally no actual conversation here, no amount of Hades asking "what happened", somehow despite his possessed state he remembers everything so succinctly that he jumps right to demanding Persephone to see her neck.

(literally removed the panel of Persephone saying "Hades..." because these types of "let me do the thing" "Hades :(((" "let me do the thing" exchanges are literally just Rachel trying to hit her panel limit, once you start seeing these '3 panel' exchanges that copy paste the same shit over and over again, you can't unsee them and you realize this is why so little happens in the comic as a whole, because it's just constant repetition of dialogue and reaction panels to pad out the episodes).

And then we get what I like to call "guy in a position of power manipulating his more vulnerable partner into pitying him without actually apologizing":

No for real, I didn't cut out a single thing from this exchange aside from a couple copy pasted reaction panels, this is the entire conversation. Hades doesn't apologize, he doesn't ask Persephone if she's okay, he just pulls the "you can leave if you want toooo :(((" baiting Persephone into further trapping herself with this jackass. SHE'S the one who's stuck with HIM.

Like, obviously Hades wasn't the one who choked her, that goes to Kronos, but he doesn't even ask her if she's okay. He just looks at her moldy ass bruises and immediately goes "YOU CAN LEAVE IF YOU WANT TO I'M A MONSTER OH GOD-" and then of course she's having to comfort him which is fine but where's the balance? It's always Persephone having to comfort him and listen to his trauma and we never get Hades doing the same for her - the times we do get Persephone talking about her trauma and struggles with him, he always finds a way to make it about him.

Hades proceeds to talk more about his childhood and more of the shit he's already talked about multiple times before, I don't even need to go over it at this point.

That said, Rachel does remember to bring his stutter back. When's the last time he stuttered? 200 episodes ago ?? (literally I don't remember, it's like when he used to twist his napkins, he doesn't have these character traits consistently anymore).

THERE we go, finally some semblance of an apology. It came after more trauma dumping, but at least it's something-

Oh for fuck's sakes.

This is literally such generic "you've come so far!" motivational jargon. And it's made even worse in LO because what has Hades overcome exactly? Just a reminder, here are the things we've seen in Hades' backstory since he was rescued by his brothers:

He started a business in the Underworld that he's been operating with slave labor and profiting off ever since as a tyrannical oligarch

He entered a multi-century-long affair with his brother's wife, his own sister in law

He cost Demeter - Persephone's own mother - the role of Queen of the Mortal Realm and Persephone still does not know this.

He abused and neglected his adopted son - who was literally abandoned on his doorstep - for hundreds of years and used his role as his adopted father to guilt trip his son for getting "special treatment".

He never took responsibility for the financially dependent relationship he created between himself and a lower class nymph and tried to bribe her out of his life as soon as he fell for a 19 year old intern

HE LITERALLY FELL FOR THE 19 YEAR OLD DAUGHTER OF A WOMAN WHO HE HAD SCREWED OVER AND PRETENDED LIKE THAT WOMAN WAS IN THE WRONG FOR NOT APPROACHING HIM DURING THE EVENTS OF THE ACT OF WRATH, AND THEN HE HAD THE GALL TO PROPOSE TO HER DAUGHTER RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER WHEN SHE BASICALLY HAD NO OTHER CHOICE BUT TO SAY YES.

Everything he's legitimately had to overcome involving his trauma has gone completely ignored until pop in comes the pink cinnamon roll girl to solve all his problems and do for him what apparently even a therapist couldn't do (because haha he thinks his therapist is a hack.)

Persephone saying "look at all you've done" should be a reminder of all the crimes Hades has committed against people weaker than him, but instead it's used as a term of endearment, because Persephone literally got with him when she was 19 years old. And apparently the whole "eternally 19" thing applies to more than just her body, because even now, 10 years later, she's still lacking all the smarts and self-awareness and maturity to realize marrying this man was a mistake.

At this point Persephone isn't too naive or stupid to realize what she's gotten herself into, she's just a terrible person who's entirely complacent in Hades' bullshit and frankly, they deserve each other.

They literally keep talking about him for several more panels. Hades literally whines on and on about how much of a failure he is, how he feels like he failed the child who's trapped in Tartarus, and then of course Persephone tells him "no honey, you're the most important being in this process!" and she's LITERALLY STILL JUST TALKING ABOUT HIM, THIS WHOLE EPISODE IS PERSEPHONE TALKING ABOUT HOW WONDERFUL HADES IS, NOTHING ELSE HAPPENS. HAVE YOU NOTICED WE HAVEN'T EVEN SEEN KASSANDRA YET ?? HAVE YOU NOTICED THE COLD OPEN FOR THE EPISODE HASN'T BECOME RELEVANT YET ?? I'VE ALREADY HIT THE 30 IMAGE LIMIT AND I HAVE TO START CUTTING STUFF OUT-

Persephone and Hades talk about how they should name the interloper, but they don't come up with anything before transitioning to Leuce and Thetis.

And y'all, this has gotta be one of Rachel's worst cases of backpedaling in the entire series. You thought how she turned Leuce - Hades' first wife - into a homewrecker was bad? You thought it was absurd the plot tried to turn Leuce into Minthe 2.0?

Remember those text messages that Leuce and Hades sent between each other? The ones we never saw but kept getting alluded to? Well of course we couldn't have Hades actually text Leuce during Persephone's banishment, because then that would mean he isn't 100% loyal to his little pink cinnamon roll "qween", so what was the next best thing? Kronos possessing Hades and texting Leuce like so many people - even fans - assumed? No. It's worse.

The text messages... weren't real.

This literally makes no sense. First of all, it's once again Rachel creating drama out of "haha woman delusional!" much like she did with Minthe. But second, it literally doesn't make sense after what we've seen leading up to this.

Leuce didn't just talk about Hades texting her. She went to his office, intent on seducing him, with the knowledge of these text messages being real. She even TALKS ABOUT THESE MESSAGES WITH HADES.

But of course, they were interrupted before Hades got a chance to respond, so this was convenient enough for Rachel to try and pull off some 'twist' where she could easily absolve Hades of "cheating" on Persephone (again, the girl he only knew for like 1-2 months) but also not have to deal with the weird logic of Kronos possessing Hades just to text some random nymph.

This is absolutely one of the most absurd retcons Rachel has ever tried to pull to get herself out of the corners she writes herself into.

Now the episode is still going and FINALLY, it gets to Kassandra, after teasing her at the beginning of the episode and proceeding to do a whole lot of nothing throughout the entire thing.

This has to be one of the funniest panels in the entire comic, bar none. Rachel's gotten worse at drawing men despite making this comic for 5 years and having plenty of opportunity to improve, and he literally just looks like the fucking Amazing Bulk, haunting this poor mortal woman with his very presence.

So yeah, it turns out that the "curse" Kassandra suffers from in this "retelling" is, rather than having prophecies no one believes (or at least, if she does, we don't see that), she sees Apollo and no one believes her. Again, Rachel takes these weird liberties with the original myths that don't make a whole lot of sense all for the sake of seeming original, but whatever, Rachel hit her panel limit for the week, because that's essentially where the episode ends, with Apollo greeting Kassandra. As quickly as it was shown at the beginning of the episode, the one part of the episode actually featuring Kassandra is wrapped up in literally 7 panels.

THOUGHT VOMIT TIME

So with Episode 251 now summarized and out of the way, I really wanna talk about how this episode operates as the first FP episode after the midseason finale for free readers.

Despite the fact that it was a 4 month break and despite the fact that WT has always still released these episodes for free on schedule - with the idea that every reader will be up to date with the current content and can start fresh with a new set of FP episodes when it returns - this time around Episodes 251-253 have remained locked.

And I say Webtoons specifically because as far as I know, the creators typically don't have control over this type of decision. From what I've heard from other Originals creators, it's often WT who decides shit like coin costs, FP release dates, etc. This is why during hiatuses the numbers on the episode unlocks never actually align with their real return dates, sometimes they completely undershoot and reset, sometimes they overshoot and tell people LO is coming back in January despite the fact it's been confirmed it's coming back in November. This isn't Rachel's doing. It's clearly Webtoons trying to squeeze as much money out of this series as they can so they think the 4 month hiatus will motivate people to pay... but even the newest episode is still only sitting at 17.9k likes, which is just slightly above the average amount the FP episodes normally wind up sitting at by the time they're unlocked after 3 weeks, but this has been after four months. The hiatus of the comic and its communities absolutely put LO out of sight, out of mind.

That said, I don't know what this means for the series' return, if it'll have 6 FP episode unlocks going forward or if it'll just return with one new FP episode and Episode 251 unlocking for free readers, but holy shit, if that's the case, this is gonna be a shitty way to return from 4 months of nothing. The cliffhanger from 250 implies so much more than what it ends up being and it's, again, highlighting a fundamental issue within LO - it operates purely on a week to week basis, producing episodes on the fly, and concerning itself more with filling up its panel quota so that it can get readers from beginning to end when they can drop some new cliffhanger that likely won't lead to anything or will be completely resolved within three swipes of the next episode. Season 3 has been especially egregious with this and it's clear Rachel has run out of track to run on.

There is speculation that perhaps the reason the timing of this cliffhanger is so off is because Rachel didn't know the hiatus was going to happen and WT forced her on it. That said, it's not something anyone can really confirm besides Rachel. I wouldn't blame her for taking the time she did considering she was attending both NYCC and SDCC this past summer, and it's hard enough for her to keep up with any sort of buffer to begin with, so those conventions would have definitely resulted in episodes getting postponed anyways.

What I'm really interested in seeing is the reception when the comic returns. Hiatuses like this are brutal for traffic, it's incredibly difficult to get every single person who you started the hiatus with to return after it's done. It's not uncommon for comics to come back to only a fraction of their readerbase - and that's where the marketing comes in.

S3's return has been incredibly undermarketed. I've talked about it already but I'll mention it again here - they have done nothing to hype up LO's remaining audience for the ending of LO. Not only has the fact that the comic is even entering its final part been mentioned on either Rachel's or WT's social media pages, but the fan groups have been shut down for almost the entirety of this hiatus, shutting fans away from discussing the comic, making predictions, and just participating in their most active and direct part of the fandom. This was an absolutely absurd decision on Rachel's part, I don't know if this was her trying to shield herself from criticism or if she genuinely just doesn't give a shit about her fanbase anymore, but it's not a good thing if the only active groups to be found online during a comic's hiatus - it's final hiatus before the series ends - are the critical ones. Fans of the comic should not have to find out about its ending from me. I know I've got a way with words, but it's not fair to the long-term fans of this comic that they're being shut out by the comic's own creator, simply because she either doesn't care or is just so afraid of the critics that she'd rather hurt her relationship with her fanbase by shutting them out just to maybe shut out any critics who are nearby.

I don't know what the reasoning is and I don't know how it could have been beneficial. But that leads us to the other theory, one that I can see as plausible-

I don't think Lore Olympus was supposed to end here.

We've talked about this theory before, but to reiterate - it's been speculated for a while (prior to the news at NYCC that the comic would be ending) that S3 of LO wasn't going to be the final season as so many people had been assuming based on past info. There was no indication or marketing implying this was the final season - meanwhile webtoons like City of Blank were marketing their final seasons from day 1 of the premiere - and there were loads of new plot threads being established in S3 that we knew couldn't possibly be wrapped up by the end of the season. Case in point, it took Rachel seven months to get back to Kassandra, and while during that time she's rushed plotlines that shouldn't have been rushed (the wedding) other plotlines have proceeded to drag at a snail's pace or been dropped altogether. The speculation that S3 wasn't going to be the final season was plausible.

But now, suddenly, LO is coming to an end, likely within the next 20-30 episodes, and neither Rachel or Webtoons have said a word about it. No announcement post, no hype, no promotional art, no statement from the Webtoons VP of what to be excited for (which he's done before). It seems like they're either intentionally trying to bury it to keep people from panicking while Rachel retreats into the shadows to hide from the crimes she's committed, or they're intentionally keeping the ending of the comic unannounced so they can backpedal on it later to generate hype over it "deciding to stick around". Chances are, it'll be based on how the return of the series goes, and whether or not it's able to get the performance numbers back in the green.

I do not think it will. As I said already, hiatuses are already notorious for destroying built up traffic, especially on Webtoons where people (many of whom are teenagers and children) are conditioned to expect regular content on a schedule. But there's one other thing that's been bugging me - there hasn't been a shred of promotional art. We're currently less than a month away from the return of LO and not only are Rachel and WT being incredibly hush hush about it, but all the art Rachel has put out has been largely on her Blue Sky, where she has the smallest following, and none of it is exactly indicative of being "promotional art", rather just random sketches and doodles that she's doing on her downtime. Everything else has been promos for her books, SDCC/NYCC, of course, Rachel Smythe Presents, her next venture which she has been hyping up more than the actual return or ending of the comic that made her famous in the first place.

At this point, I'm not even fully convinced she's even started working on the next episode yet, let alone any sort of buffer. If anything, she knows that she's coming back to the series with 3 episodes still locked under FastPass, so all she'll need to technically have ready for launch is one new episode. Rachel has never been good at building buffers, not even in the beginning when she apparently started off with 2-3 episodes of buffer. Even when her comic is nearing its end, she's not learning any lessons, she's not setting herself up for success. And I'm not setting myself up for the hope that the series could possibly come back any better than it was when it left - if anything, I think we're about to see Rachel and the comic outdo itself once again on how bad it can possibly be.

And we still have two more episodes to talk about, which includes the cliffhanger for FP readers that we've been waiting four months on. Part 2 and 3 of these FP episode analyses will be going up as soon as I can get them done, ideally I'll have all three parts done before it returns so we can start off fresh with the newest episode.

Buckle up folks. Pour yourself a drink. We're gonna need it.

#lore olympus critical #lo critical #anti lore olympus #antiloreolympus #long post #essay post #tw violence #tw assault

211 notes · View notes

a3risbaby · 2 years ago

Text

patience is a virtue [m]

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 seventeen : lee seokmin x reader (vagina, fem!pronouns)

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Seokmin considers himself a patient person, but lately, your busy work schedule has him wondering how long he can hold out. The answer, it seems, is not that long.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 smut (minors dni), fluff, established relationship, a brief moment of embarrassment, pillow humping/male masturbation, video mention, no plot (sorry), leaving everyone involved on a cliffhanger/abrupt ending, cross-posted on ao3 | 1.4k words

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 the way this idea has been weighing on my mind lately...something about seokmin's surprised reactions makes me want to tease him, and y/n got caught in the crossfire

The apartment is empty. That's the first thing you notice as you kick your shoes off at the door. Seokmin is still home, though—his shoes are all accounted for, and his keys still rest in the bowl by the door. You toss your keys in beside his, the metal loud against ceramic.

You trod inside. The living room TV is paused on some Netflix show, probably the one he was talking about yesterday, and in the center of the room, a pile of unfolded laundry sits next to an upturned basket. You pick up a fallen throw pillow and toss it back onto the couch before calling out Seokmin's name hesitantly. He's not in the kitchen either. Your home feels strangely frozen in time.

You rummage around the pantry for a snack, noting that everything's been restocked and put away nicely, and you should really thank Seokmin for taking care of your home while you've been busy. You've done your share of the chores, of course: taking out the trash, sweeping every other day, doing the dishes after he cooks. But with you going all-in on your latest team project, you can confidently say that your boyfriend is the only reason your home still feels like a home and not somewhere you rest your eyes for a few hours a day. Case in point, you open the fridge to find a wrapped sandwich with your name and a heart on a note.

Cute, you smile to yourself and put the sandwich on the kitchen counter for later. Comfortable pajamas come first. In fact, it's all you've been thinking about since you started driving home—comfy clothes, warm food, and a funny show to wrap up your afternoon. Hopefully snuggled into Seokmin's side all the while.

You perk up when you notice the cracked bedroom door.

"Hey, Seok, did you want to watch—"

You can't help the gasp that escapes you, hand flying from the handle to cover your mouth. Seokmin's head whips around to look at you over his shoulder, expression a mix of surprise, embarrassment, and horror.

"What are you doing home right now?" he screeches, scrambling to cover himself with the blanket. Your eyes fly around the room, taking in the pants on the floor, the boxers pooled around his exposed ankles, and the stack of pillows on the bed. You're still reeling from the after-image of him humping them, lip caught between his teeth. "I thought you were working until dinnertime!"

"I got off work early! I texted you," you say, gesturing to the nightstand where his phone sits charging, "but I guess you were, um, busy?"

You stare at him, and he stares back. The silence is mortifying, but now that the blood rushing in your ears has subsided, you finally hear the faint noise coming from his phone.

"Is that...me?" you ask, gaping at the whimpering gasps that sound familiar. It's the video you recorded for him to use on a business trip last month. While you thought the file was a sexy gift when you sent it, hearing you chase your orgasm in the middle of the afternoon has you wanting to sink into the ground.

"Yeah, it is. I mean, I'm allowed to use it, right?" he squeaks, face still flushed. "I thought I could. I've been using it since I got it. M'sorry if I wasn't supposed to?"

"No, no, you're definitely allowed to. I'm just..." You bark a laugh, fanning yourself with a hand. "Sorry! I don't know why I'm like this right now. We do this sort of thing all the time. It just caught me off guard. Did you want me to leave so you can finish?" you ask, choking on the last word.

"You can, if you want, but if you're free, um," he hesitates, fingers picking at the blanket over his bulge, "it'd be nice if you could stay?"

Right then, the video approaches its end, and you hear yourself cum with a loud, breathy moan that has your ears burning. If you weren't watching Seokmin with rapt attention, you would've missed the shiver that he tries to tamper down.

You swallow, and he traces that action down the column of your throat, gaze flicking down the rest of your body with appreciation. You could drown in his wide-blown pupils.

You find yourself saying, "I'll stay."

Seokmin considers himself very lucky to have such an attractive partner, even if you get shy and swat his arm whenever he reminds himself of it aloud, but these days, with your busy work schedule, it feels like a curse in disguise. He's been patient for a long time now, knowing that you come home exhausted every evening and that you spend all your free time trying to get ahead with work. Just a little more, you murmur to your reflection as you get ready in the morning, and he wishes that he could do something to take the load off your shoulders.

So in addition to taking up more of the housework, he tries not to bother you with his needs, making do with cold showers and his hand and that blessed video...until today.

He spent all morning working himself up, thinking that he'd have the whole afternoon to get himself off, but the universe must be tired of giving him lucky breaks because the day he caves and decides to try something new is the same day you come home early.

Or maybe this is a favorable turn of events?

He cards a hand through his hair. Now that the jump scare is over and his heart is beating properly again, he remembers the predicament he's in, dick still hard. You walk closer and perch on the edge of the bed, keeping your eyes firmly on his face.

"Can you show me what you were doing earlier?" you ask lowly, unbuttoning the top of your dress shirt.

Oh, when you ask like that, he'll do anything you want. As you reach over to silence his phone—no need for the video when the real thing is right here—he settle back over the pillows. Bracing himself on his forearms, he lightly drags his tip across the wet stain he left earlier, hissing at the friction of a few shallow thrusts.

"Look at the mess you're making," you murmur, gaze heavy. His cock is throbbing. "Baby, is that enough for you?"

"No," he whimpers. He folds the pillow over, tightening it with one hand as he thrusts deeper. He draws his lip between his teeth. "S'not tight enough. A-ah, want it to be you."

Seokmin keeps going, eyes focused on the way the pillow swallows him whole, heart stuttering as he thinks of burying himself in you. You're always so receptive to his pace, always so sensitive to his touch. He loves the way your legs would curl around his waist as he pushes into you, your insides fluttering as you adjusted to his size. The pillow is plush, but it's not you.

His thoughts splinter when you sigh, and when he looks up, he can't help the guttural Fuck that tumbles from his mouth. Your shirt is completely unbuttoned, your pencil skirt is bunched around your hips, and your panties—the baby blue lace set, he feels like he's won the lottery—barely conceal anything. He can't believe you wore those in public.

His hands come up to grab your thighs, but you tsk, pushing your toes into his shoulders, and he freezes in place.

"You asked me to stay," you remind him. "You didn't ask to touch."

This is pure torture. Your hold on him is feather light, but he's straining against the ropes of self control.

"Please. Just a taste, baby, I'll make you feel good," he says, words coming out in a rush. He's on the verge of whining, but he doesn't care. He can see your arousal, can smell it heavy in the air, and his cock twitches in anticipation despite the shake of your head. "I promise, I promise it'll feel so good. Let me use my tongue on you."

He tilts his head and rests a cheek on your ankle, trying to implore you with warm eyes. You pretend to consider it, drawing out your thoughtful hum until seconds feel like hours. Then you shimmy out of your underwear, and that's all the confirmation he needs.

#seventeen smut #svt smut #lee seokmin smut #seokmin smut #svt seokmin smut #lee dokyeom smut #dokyeom smut #dk smut #svt dokyeom smut #a3risbaby.kpop #a3risbaby.writing

344 notes · View notes

uhohbestie · 5 months ago

Text

There Are Monsters Nearby [Chapter 34]

🏜 Pairing: Grian/Scar

🧟‍♂️ Tags: zombie AU, zombie apocalypse, lovers to exes, slow burn, eventual reconciliation

📖 Summary: The day after Scar breaks up with Grian, the dead come back to life. Knowing that venturing out alone is a death sentence, the sudden onset of the apocalypse forces them to stick together despite their tensions. In the wreckage of the world, they're forced to survive side-by-side, coming to terms with the fact that—try as they might—there's still no one they trust more than each other.

Chapter 34 - Grian and Scar leave the cabin, and with their "honeymoon" behind them, finally cross the border into Canada.

📝 Words: 7305

🔗 Link: Read Chapter 34 on AO3

—

The further they progress without encountering any signs of survivors, the more Grian begins to space out. He’s been pulled back from the edge of his own miasma by Scar several times already, broken from his reverie with no judgement or accusations. It makes Grian uneasy all the same. Anxious about his own potential. He needs to feed soon, on something more substantial than game.

He’s not sure how much longer he can last.

“Scar.” His tone is serious but careful when he finally speaks. They’re taking their last break before crossing the border, sitting at a picnic table in an abandoned rest stop. “We’re going to have to make a detour.”

His partner looks up from where he’s stretching his legs, busy rubbing his fingertips into the areas that get the most sore. “What for?”

Unable to maintain eye contact, disgusted with himself and the disease rotten in his veins, Grian mutters, “We need to head towards a more populated area.” And then, as cut and dry as he can make it, “We have to find some people.”

A heavy silence descends between them, and Grian peeks over at Scar to find him frowning, an expression of consideration on his face. There’s no need to make things any plainer—Scar knows what Grian’s survival is going to cost now. And he’s made it clear it’s an ugliness he’s decided they’ll shoulder together.

“Is it that bad?” Scar asks at last, his voice matter-of-fact but clearly worried.

“Not yet,” Grian replies, offering him a half-truth. “But I don’t want to take any risks. Better to act now than leave it until it’s too late.”

“You could eat me if you needed to,” Scar offers, pragmatic in a way that catches Grian off guard. “I wouldn’t mind.”

His words are like a punch to the gut, and they leave Grian reeling, his eyes shooting up towards Scar’s face, desperate to find some sign of ill-timed humour. All he finds is Scar smiling, brushing the words off like they’re nothing. His expression is resolved. Every inch of him insisting that what he offered wasn’t a joke at all. That he’s being genuine.

“Scar,” Grian breathes, horrified.

Scar, however, merely shrugs. “It would be worth it to me, if I knew it would help you.”

‘It wouldn’t be worth it to me,’ Grian wants to say. ‘If I hurt you—if I turned you—I’d never be able to live with myself. If you were gone, there’d be no point in even trying anymore. I’m here because you’re here.’

“It’s not going to come to that,” he says instead, brusque and firmly determined, turning away to hide the swell of his emotions.

[ read more ]

—

The best part about TAMN is our lack of cliffhangers. (long pause) Anyway!! See you next week! <3

You can read the whole fic thus-far in the link below ↓↓↓

You may not rest now, There Are Monsters Nearby (on ao3!)

#trafficshipping #scarian #life series fanfic #zombie au #TAMN #TAMN fic

40 notes · View notes

9toji · 2 years ago

Note

It's my cheat day today so can I get some ...120 Nanami please extra spice

3; NANAMI KENTO + FACESITTING pairing ; nanami kento x fem! reader

tags ; face-sitting, puss-eating, nanami gets a lil suffocated, cum-eating, he rewards you for letting him eat u out later hee-hee, cliffhanger-ish ending

nanami can barely breathe, his mind going hazy as you placed your ass' weight on top of his face. eyes are droopy, hands that grip on the cheeks shake slightly. "sit on me properly dear, don't you want to me to please you, hmm?" he coos, heaving a large breath when he feels you move your hips, your cunt was against his mouth, perfect.. he thought.

it looks so good, he thinks. lapping his tongue up n down your glistening hole, a little teasing lick to your already hardened cunt. he chuckles breathily when he feels you shudder from pleasure, groaning when he gets a perfect taste of your essence. his tufts of blonde hair was what you hold on to, pulling on them when he dives his face farther inside. "taste so good for me, don't move too much sweetheart. need to properly lick you up, need to taste you so bad." he groans, his muscular digits digging into the flesh of your ass, dazed as he runs his tongue, mouth sucking on your cunt with an indescribable hunger. he grunts, prompting you to sit back down properly. you could feel him grow needier, chasing an orgasm out of you. a swift thumb presses down on your clit as nanami keeps eating you out, circling it with ease as your sopping wet essence act as a lube to let his tongue lather you, fingers reeling in to help him get what he wants, a faceful of your cum. his digits play with your hole, tongue still seeping inside you to make you shake with pleasure, and with a jolt and a whimper, you cum. nanami groans once more, a very very pleased sigh as it drips down on to his face. he sighs, taking a handful before sucking on his cum-coated fingers. chuckles leave your husband as he asks you to sit back down, "you taste so good, thanks for the appetizer." he clears his throat, "time for the main course, i guess." kento grins dazedly, toppling you over on the bed, his belt already itching to be unbuckled, his hands grip on your thighs with need. "thanks for letting me indulge in you, gonna reward you nice and well sweetheart."

#jjk; gojo 𓆩♡𓆪 #rina; jjk works 🎧#events; 100 followers! 🎧#nanami fanfic #jjk nanami #nanami smut #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk fanfic #nanami drabbles #nanami scenarios #nanami imagines #nanami x fem!reader #nanami x you

279 notes · View notes

tumb1rprincess · 6 months ago

Text

Literally jumped into this episode yelling "Get back together pleeeeeeeeeeease!" You don't know how much the cliffhanger from the last episode has been driving me crazy these past few hours. I could barely focus on work.

Yes Arthur, let's try to pull up whatever monstrous thing is splashing below the ship, ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID!? This man is going to be the death of me.

John laughing is fucking creepy, Jesus Christ. And he's already commenting about how the line between what he does and Arthur does is very thin and they're like the scorpion and the frog in the fable, oh God.

Okay, okay, okay, reeling from the last fifteen minutes or so from this. Just...everything was fucking horrifying. Deep sea stuff freaks me the fuck out, so a dead diver and a freaking tentacle sea monster thing and one of the cops getting ripped in half had me so tense. God, this has been one of the scarier ones.

Then Arthur gets shot and I literally went "STOP GETTING SHOT ALL THE TIME!" Like Jesus Christ, can this man catch a break? (I know the answer is no, but still). And he was so scared and all John could do was try to comfort him and tell him he wasn't alone, aaaaaaaaagh, I almost cried.

Being underwater when you're blind has got to be fucking terrifying, I know I've said it before, but it bears repeating. Christ, I could barely breathe during that bit.

And then that last fucking bombshell, just, WHAT!? ARTHUR HAS A DAUGHTER!? I have so many questions. Where is she? He's never mentioned her before, or a wife for that matter. Are they both dead? Is one of them dead? That song he played in the music store was called Faroe's Song, did he write that? Aaaaaaaaagh, I'm losing my god damn mind. I need some time to digest all this.

#malevolent #malevolent part 9 #arthur lester #john doe

25 notes · View notes

starsreminisce · 1 year ago

Text

My Elucien Fanfics:

Heads up, I mainly write one-shots and like ending in cliffhangers, usually to keep it open ended if I decide to continue with the story.

Kiss Prompt: Of Love Lucien woke up to the sound of Elain vomiting and took care of her throughout the morning. Kiss Prompt: Of Pretend Elain volunteered to be Lucien's date to intercept information from an agent of Koschei. She played her role with a bit more commitment. Kiss Prompt: Out of Spite Elain was reeling from her rejection post-solstice and felt the need to find someone to blame and apologize to her. Lucien wasn't going to be the scapegoat in this situation.

Kiss Prompt: Out of Envy and Jealousy Elain had never seen Lucien in his natural element at a ball, so it surprised her how much attention he received. She was prepared to let it go until she saw one particular lady giving her mate more attention than she was comfortable with.

Kiss Prompt: Good Morning Elain's morning ritual involves visiting her father's grave, the site where she secretly meets with her mate.

Gwyn and Lucien are cousins Azriel and Elain try to find some time to talk things over from the previous solstice but keep getting distracted when they weren't sure why. Eventually, their discussion shifts to Gwyn and Lucien's growing closeness, becoming the focal point of their conversation.

SJMRomance Week: Day Seven: Free: Angst Lucien finally had enough of dealing with the unanswered bond and decided to take matters to his own hands. Meanwhile, Elain procrastinates on telling Lucien how she feels and was met with consequences of his actions

SJMRomance Week: Day Five: Favorite Tropes Fake Dating + Touch Her and Die aka Lucien brings Elain to present her to his father where a brother thought Lucien was still the weakling who left the Autumn Court

SJMRomance Week: Day Four: Little Things A day in the life of High King Lucien and High Queen Elain

SJMRomance Week: Day Three: Wedding Elain finally shares to Lucien that she is ready to accept the bond but before they could, Lucien feels like there is one more thing he needed to do

SJMRomance Week: Day Two: Traditions The females of the IC gather around to gossip about Valentine's Day plans

SJMRomance Week: Day One: First Date Elain tease brought a little more than what she expected when Lucien asked if she wanted to accompany him to the Day Court

Lucien's POV to Elain being kidnapped Lucien feels a surge of panic as he learns that Elain has been kidnapped for the second time. Determined to get back to her, he starts plotting his course of action. However, in the midst of his urgency, her father stops him and offers some advice.

LucienWeek: Day Two: Style Lucien receives his Day Court attire, which appears to be a prank orchestrated by the two High Lords. However, the reaction he receives from Elain is entirely unexpected.

LucienWeek: Day Three: Mask: Part One Lucien, wearing the mask he has donned for centuries, entertains the Princess of Vallahan after catching sight of Elain. Unexpectedly, the Princess offers him something, prompting a question about whether his mask can become his new reality.

LucienWeek: Day Seven: Mask Part Two As Lucien poses his question to Elain and the time ticks down, he finds himself torn between what it is and what it could have been.

LucienWeek: Day Four: Emissary Trouble at the Illyrian camp brings Elain and Lucien together as they work to find a solution and prevent another rebellion.

LucienWeek: Day Five: Family Lucien receives an unexpected present from Eris, dating back to the day he left the Autumn Court.

LucienWeek: Day Six: Romance After Solstice, Elain noticed a change in Lucien's demeanor and wondered if he was aware of what had transpired. Helion, taking matters into his own hands, decides to facilitate a conversation between them, leading to Elain opening up and baring her heart to Lucien.

Not-a-Date Date In a compromising situation at Hewn City, Elain finds herself in need, and Lucien comes to her aid. As Lucien bids her farewell, Elain discovers a desire within herself to accompany him.

Lucien's POV After the Necklace Lucien finds himself standing in front of Elain after Azriel's departure. IC play matchmaker The Inner Circle members all have varying opinions on how Elain and Lucien should navigate their mating bond.

#elucien #elucien fanfic #elucien fanfiction

76 notes · View notes

texasbama · 10 months ago

Note

oh I AM WALKING

Like……i just. Hm. Okay. So like

Season 8: Buck is exploring and having fun with his newly discovered sexuality. With tommy or whoever. Doesnt matter. We see Eddie dealing with the layers and complexity of his catholic guilt. Him starting to truly discover what it actually is HE wants for himself versus what he think’s supposed to want.

Buck throughout the season, while dating, is having fun and he’s happy but he starts to feel like there is just still something missing but he doesn’t know what it is. We see the boys stories parallel in that way for most of the season. S8 finale. Big emergency cliffhanger. Trapped dads vibes okay. Perhaps feelings come out. Buck realizes “oh shit. Im in love with Eddie” and tries to tell Eddie but then something bad happens. Bam! End of season.

Season 9: buck is reeling from this realization but like. They almost died so all emotions are on 10. They are in the hospital talking about everything but the elephant in the room. They talk about the will and what it means. Its heavy. Eddie telling Buck again that there is no one else for his son. No one else for HIM. “Its only ever been you Buck” and they are just sitting in this moment with so many words left unsaid. Both of them scared of the magnitude of their feelings.

The season continues as both of the boys try and navigate through what it means to be in love with your best friend. Eddie possibly working through having feelings for a man. Buck scared of losing what they have but also knowing that Eddie is it for him. Maybe mid season, they finally sit down and talk. Buck tells Eddie in so many words: I want you. I want this life we have made together with Chris. I love you. Eddie feels the same way. they both agree: we need to be sure, because once we go there, there is no going back. This could be a great thing for both of them but they have to be ready for it.

Now as 9B goes on, we see flirty Buddie. We see them basically together but not together ya know? They are happy taking their time cause they know the wait will be worth it. Now of course cause this is a primetime drama, some very traumatic/ dramatic will happen in the season finale. Now while nothing happens to the boys physically, whatever big ugly thing that happened, they just want to be with each other afterwards. They are each other’s home. We get a scene in the finale of them at Eddie’s house, on the couch. Eddie basically says that he doesn’t know if he will ever be 100% ready (more to do with his feelings about his own shortcomings) but that he is 100% sure about them. About Buck. He says I love you. Buck says it back. Then Buck proceeds to give his own love declaration. All these beautiful words about how Eddie has been what he has been looking for all this time. That this life is short (they understand that better than most) and he wants to spend whatever time he has left with Eddie and Chris. Cue first kiss. Cue thousands of fan girls dying. End season.

Season 10: now that they are together i feel like the lead up to an engagement could be fun. They are all happy and in love and they are sappy and Chris is making fun of them. Maybe on a call, or somewhere else Buck introduces Eddie as his fiancé and Eddie is like ????? And we get some fun spiraling. Eddie talks to Hen or something. “I would know if I was proposed to right? I mean we’ve only been together a few months???” And Hen is just like “yall have been Buck and Eddie for much longer than that” so that leads to Eddie asking Buck about it. Buck is like yea I said I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you remember??? And Eddie is like that isn’t a proposal! A proposal usually includes a question like WILL YOU MARRY ME? Again. We’re having fun with this. So Buck is all like okay. Eddie, will you marry me? eddie thinks he’s joking but he’s not. The moment goes from light and fun to intimate and emotional. We get some more “you’re it for me. I love you” Buck is choosing Eddie. Eddie is being chosen. Eddie is choosing to be happy for himself. Eddie says yes. BAM! LET THE WEDDING PLANNING COMMENCE.

(Now obviously this is just idiots ramblings. These are bones and they story would need meat and muscles to become fully fleshed out but. I just. Ya know. Had feelings)

#911 asks

31 notes · View notes

blackbeardsbarandgrill · 1 year ago

Text

The thing is - Ed was super happy for Stede when people started recognising him, he was supportive and willing to give advice but then take the sideline for Stede to enjoy his moment. There was no regret of their night together, there was no bad feelings towards Stede at all, they had a nice breakfast in bed and then went out for brunch at one of Ed’s favourite spots.

It was only when he spoke to Jackie that Ed realised that even though they were happy at that moment, they seem to want different things for their future.

Instead of talking about it though, Ed reacts by lashing out, he even gets a regretful look on his face before he starts digging in about going slow and calling the night before a mistake like he chose to say those things specifically so Stede would want to fight but all he gets is Stede being reasonable telling him he’s panicking and that they can make the thing between them anything they want it to be (I know we’re hating on Stede for being a giant douchecanoe but he really was being quite reasonable in this fight before they start talking about Ed being a fisherman).

The fish being “whatever” is obviously hurtful to Ed but Stede is still reeling from Everything and even then he still managed to add he just wanted to make Ed feel good implying that basing his entire future on catching one fish is bizarre.

Stede even recognises what just happened as Ed walks away as he incredulously says “you’re just blowing this up” after Ed shouts at him that it’s everything about fishing.

And then… the abandonment kicks in and Stede finally lashes out with “YOU’RE A COWARD”

And Ed kind of is, because it wasn’t about the fishing, it wasn’t about the night they spent together (which was clearly consensual, I swear I question if I’m watching the same show as people with some of the hot takes about ✨that✨scene) it wasn’t even about Stede being famous - not directly.

It was Ed getting in his own head - overthinking the situation, lashing out at Stede with something that he knew Stede would react to and then genuinely getting hurt when Stede reacts. We don’t see his reaction to being called a coward and I’m grateful for that because I don’t think my cold dead heart could take that after Stede’s heartbroken face.

The preview for the last episode gave me hope that although we will no doubt get a cliffhanger - at least Stede and Ed will be together with the potential to sort their shit through.

TL:DR

Two middle aged men with no experience with long term caring relationships sabotage their potential long term caring relationship because they’re scared the other will leave them

#our flag means death #ofmd #stede bonnet #edward teach #taika waititi #rhys darby #ofmd spoilers #ed teach #our flag means death spoiler

88 notes · View notes

tatumrileyslover · 2 years ago

Text

I’m not dead, so I’m not done

^☆ Synopsis: Even after trying to escape the tragedy of the Woodsboro murders, the ghosts of her past continue to follow her.

^☆ Pairing: ex!Stu Macher x Reader / Sidney Prescott x Reader

^☆ Word Count: 1.6k

^☆ Warnings: mentions of death, tiny bit of angst in regards to the readers relationship to Stu, fluff, cliffhanger ending (sorry), mentions of blood

^☆ Authors Note: This is the first fic I’ve written in a while so hopefully I’m not rusty, anyway feel free to leave requests, the story doesn’t use (y/n) and is in a female pov

1996 - 261 Turner Lane

Her eyes were drawn to the grotesque scene that was playing out before her eyes, both her friends tangled in a harrowing struggle for survival, she stood transfixed by the nightmarish display of desperation and violence.

As they tumbled over the couch, the air erupted with a cacophony of exploding pillows, their fluffy contents bursting forth like a storm of feathers. The room seemed to transform into a battlefield, the innocent pillows transformed into chaotic projectiles, adding an unsettling surrealness to the already intense struggle between Stu and Sidney.

Glancing quickly over her shoulder, Billy was sprawled across the hallways. His body was splayed on the floor, contorting with pain, clutching his side where Sidney had impaled him with an umbrella when she burst from the closet, taunting him with the ghostface costume.

The air crackled with tension as she stood there, a formidable force, challenging him to face the consequences of his wicked actions, she wasn’t going to let him get away with this.

In that moment, the world started to gain traction, the world no longer filled with static and white noise. Scrambling without thought, frantically rushing forward to help Sidney and restrain Stu from hurting her best friend.

Wrapping her arms around Stu, she gripped him in a tight embrace, her arms enveloping him with a firmness that evoked memories of the past, where she would hold him just like that. The days where she would sneak up on him as he stood by his locker, obsessively recounting the horror movie he had watched the night before in excruciating detail, to a content Billy who listened to his incessant rambling with a grin on his face. How he would tug her under his arms to give her a hug and a small peck before continuing as adamantly as before. The two people she trusted most in the world lay before her, grievously wounded and marred by the violence they had unleashed. leaving a trail of destruction in their wake, targeting her friends and even attempting to end her own life. The trust she had once placed in them had been shattered, replaced by an overwhelming sense of fear and disbelief.

Stu was different, he wasn’t the same boy who would walk her home from school everyday to make sure she was “safe from Randy,” the sick grin plastered to his face, eyes wide from adrenaline, blood dripping all down his body, he had undergone a chilling transformation into a disfigured version of the person he once was. His eyes, once filled with warmth and familiarity, now glowed with a sinister light, reflecting the depths of his corrupted soul. The scars of his transformation told a haunting tale of the torment that had consumed him, warping his humanity beyond recognition. It was a jarring sight, a stark reminder that evil had taken hold and twisted his very essence.

In a desperate bid for freedom, Sidney's instincts kicked into overdrive. With a surge of adrenaline, she seized the nearest object within reach—a heavy plant pot—and swung it with all her might, shattering it against his head.

The impact reverberated through the air, a resounding crack that echoed with a mix of surprise and pain. Stunned, he faltered, his grip on her weakening as his senses reeled from the unexpected blow. It was a momentary reprieve, an opportunity for Sidney to break free from his clutches and gather her wits, quickly seizing her arms, that were still clutching at Stu, pulling her to her side, the eerie glow of Halloween illuminated the room, a haunting silence filled the room, broken only by shallow breaths and groans from Stu who painfully attempted to twist his marred body onto his back, gazing up at the two girls who’s eyes were locked in noiseless conversation, as if communicating with telepathy.

With a nod both girls gripped the side of the tv and pushed it onto Stu, the image of the Stus flailing body, burned into her retinas, his hands grasping at the surface to attempt to alleviate his suffering, his groans began to quiet down as Sidney entangled their fingers and dragged her away desperately trying to get them out of the situation, hoping fervently that Dewey would be here any second with backup. While being tugged away, she took a final glance towards Stus body, a glint of light catching her eye. There on his wrist peering slightly over the fallen sleeve of his beige cashmere sweater, now tainted by splotches of red, lay the bracelet she had made him on their first date, the sage string wove through pieces of sea glass they had stumbled upon on the beach.

It was the only part of “her Stu” she had left

1997 - Windsor College

As they strolled back to the campus from their date, her heart swelled with an overwhelming love for Sidney. The connection they shared had blossomed amidst the darkness and trauma they had both experienced. They had become each other's pillars of strength, providing unwavering solace in the face of unimaginable horrors.

The loss of Stu left a profound void in the her heart, a hollow ache that echoed with the weight of what could have been. She had once been deeply devoted to Stu, a bond that had now been shattered by the revelation of his involvement in the horrors that unfolded. She was consumed by a maelstrom of emotions—grief, anger, and a profound sense of betrayal. It was as if the foundation of their past had crumbled, leaving behind a sense of loss that cut deep.

But Sidney, she filled that hole, she had a key lodged into the keyhole of her heart and it might as well have been stuck in there with gorilla glue, Sidney's presence had become a beacon of hope, a reminder that healing was possible even in the wake of unspeakable darkness. She admired her for her resilience, her ability to rise above the trauma that threatened to consume her. In Sidney, she found inspiration and a profound love that transcended the scars —physical and mental— left by the past.

In moments of vulnerability, they had cried together, finding solace in their shared pain. They had held each other in the darkest of nights, lending strength when one faltered, reminding each other that they were survivors, not defined by their past but shaped by their determination to move forward.

With each passing day, their love grew deeper and more profound. They were intertwined in a bond forged by empathy and understanding, knowing that they held the power to heal one another's wounds. She cherished every moment spent with Sidney, witnessing her growth and finding solace in their shared journey.

Together, they had become each other's safe haven, a sanctuary where the weight of the past could be shed and replaced with love, support, and healing. She knew that they were forever changed by Sidney's presence in their life, grateful for the way she had helped them navigate their own trauma and find strength within themselves.

The night air whispered against their skin, carrying with it a promise of new beginnings. As they approached her dormitory, the anticipation in her heart grew. She longed to spend more time with the person who had become her rock, to continue exploring the depths of their bond.

Sidney's fingertips tingled with the desire to hold the her close, to feel their warmth and reassurance envelop her. The vulnerability she had shared with them had fostered a profound sense of trust. In that moment, as they stood outside the dorm, Sidney couldn't help but marvel at the way life had woven their paths together.

“Hey I had a great time tonight Sid, thanks so much, I owe you a meal next time,” she giggled as she leaned in to press her lips to her girlfriends, Sidney sighed against her lips.

“Glad you did, now, you have to work on that assignment, I’m not letting you blame me for you failing your class,” Sidney pressed her pointed finger at her chest, lightly shoving her back into the dorm.

A shocked look hung over her face,

“Sid!”

“Goodnight sweetheart,” Sidney sent her a small wink as she closed the door, a wave of embarrassment flooded her cheeks, staining them red, “ugh that girl, I don’t know what I’m going to do-“

The air seemed charged, almost heavy with anticipation. Their senses heightened, and then, it hit them—a scent that sent a shiver down their spine.

A mix of cologne and sweat lingered in the room, a scent that lingered oh so familiarly on their palette. It brought back memories—both joyful and painful—of something. The fragrance seemed to fill the air, wrapping around them like a phantom presence. Goosebumps erupted across their skin, an involuntary reaction to the uncanny sensation.

The room carried the unmistakable scent of Stu.

She stood frozen, her gaze scanning the room for any signs of Stu's presence. Was it just a trick of the mind, a residue of memories clinging to the air? Or was there something more sinister at play? The scent seemed to hang in the room like an omen, a chilling reminder of the past they thought they had left behind.

With a mixture of trepidation and curiosity, she moved closer to the source of the scent. She traced its path, her fingertips trembling, and her mind racing with unanswered questions. How could Stu's scent be here, in their room, after all this time?

In that moment, the world seemed to tilt on its axis. The past collided with the present, and the line between reality and nightmare blurred, reduced to nothing but a hazy fog. As they inhaled once again, the scent of Stu clung to their senses, leaving them with an unsettling realization—perhaps the ghosts of the past were not so easily forgotten, as a familiar shine of sea glass captured her attention.

If you want I could make a part 2 but idk (/ω＼)

107 notes · View notes