#that if the person you made that sacrifice for found out what you’d done

[thatgirlonstage]

Does literally anything make me more feral than “I am willing to let the person I love hate me forever if I can do something that ensures they’re happy”

[gojos-thot-patrol]

a let my demons get a little silly with it here

Now Loading, Kinktober Week Two...

Synopsis: Ryomen always got what he wanted, it was a simple rule of life. And ever since he caught your scent, you were all that he wanted- your previous bond mark be damned. And you must have wanted him too. Why else would your window be open in the middle of your heat? Kinks: Omegaverse, Breeding, Marking, Knotting, Scent, Dub-Con, Non/Con, Somnophilia, and Infidelity. Reader Discretion is Advised.

Sukuna was going to fuck you. He was going to have you on your back, legs spread as he filled you to the brim, breeding you like a bitch while covering you in his bite marks and scent. Sukuna was sure of this fact from the first time he caught your smell in the air, light and warm and made for him. You were made for him. It was only a matter of time until he took what was rightfully his.

The only problem was you were marked, and sadly, it wasn’t by him. Worse yet, it was by some weak asshole who barely even had the ability to mark someone. Some feeble excuse of a man who probably didn't know what to do once he got your panties around your ankles, much less what to do when you were in your heat. The only thing worse than you being bonded to that douche canoe, was knowing it only happened so you wouldn’t be bonded to him. 

Okay, so “bonded” wasn’t really the right word there. “Sacrifice” was closer to the actuality of the situation, but still! You were literally destined to be his, and one asshole wants to play hero and fuck it all up? It drove him fucking mad, what right did that limp dick think he had to interfere? He caught himself clenching his fist and jaw. He needed to calm down before he hurt someone, especially since the only person nearby was you. 

Sukuna watched from a distance as you lounged under your tree, finding comfort in the forest instead of the inherent danger you should feel. He had suppressed his scent enough he was sure you hadn’t noticed, your calm demeanor conveying that fact. He could have you right now, release his scent and take you where you sat. But, that wouldn’t have done anything about your bond mark. No, to take care of that Sukuna had to be patient. Which, was a real fucking drag because if there was anything Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t it was a patient man.

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

He remembered the first time he encountered you. Almost a month ago now, while he was taking his regular walk through the woods. He could still feel the full body reset that happened when he caught your aroma, the smell of apple and clove working its way through his nervous system and grabbing his cock his heart in a chokehold. Suddenly, his lazy stroll through the woods was a hunt to find out what decadent creature had made such a perfume. 

And that’s where he found you. Sitting contently in a floral field, making a fucking flower crown of all things, and surly waiting for him. He saw your hands falter and your eyes widen as he approached, no doubt because you finally picked up on his pheromones. He could feel the smirk forming on his lips. 

“Well, what a nice surprise,” He hummed as he approached you, “I wasn’t expecting to find anyone else out here.” You immediately fell into a low bow before him. Good, you knew your place. 

“I’m sorry my lord,” You apologize, though you weren’t sure why. You knew of the warlord Ryomen Sukuna. You knew he owned your village, as well as the villages surrounding it. But to your knowledge he didn’t police who was allowed in the woods. Still, you’d rather not risk upsetting him. 

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here, all alone?” He asked, eyes tracing the way your back curved into the bow.

“My mate and I moved closer to the forest recently, I was exp-”

“Your mate?” The vitriol in his tone made your stomach revolt and ignited your fight or flight system. You didn’t even know what you had done wrong. 

“Y-yes?”

“Stand up, look at me.” He demanded. You did so without hesitation, your omega body naturally inclined to follow the alphas commands. When you did, you were hit with a fresh wave of his aura, the smell of whiskey and cinnamon filling your senses and making your joints feel weak. You were caught between your need to honor your bond mark, and the need to fall to your knees for the man in front of you. You whimpered softly as he grabbed your chin and shoved your head to the side.

Sure enough, right there on your scent gland were faint teeth shaped scars. If he wasn’t specifically looking for them, he wouldn’t have seen them at all. Still, the fact it hadn't been refreshed didn’t negate the fact that it was there. You were unequivocally spoken for. 

“You don’t smell marked.” He scoffed as he released your head, taking a step back.

“It’s new…” You muttered. He may not have been able to smell your mate, but the stench of a lie was familiar to him. Especially one as piss poor as that.

“If it’s new then you should reek of him, Wench, don’t lie to me.” He growled. You looked down as your shame rolled over you.

“He’s a beta.” HE’S A BETA?! Sukuna had felt rage a lot in his life. Some may even say it was his default setting. But the rage he felt at being cucked by a beta was unlike anything that he had felt before. He felt his fingers twitch with the need to wrap around someone's neck, and the urge to burn down this entire forest was a hard one to fight. He choked back his molting hot fury with a simple reminder: Beta bond marks don’t mean shit. He could easily still have you. He just had to wait for your next heat cycle to do it, when your hormones were high and looking for something more…substantial, then a betas nub. 

“How cute, being mated to a beta. I’m sure you’re crazy for each other.” He sneered. You wished. Leaving every heat cycle woefully unsatisfied and frustrated might have been worth it if you had actually loved the man. If your union to him wasn’t purely survival. 

“He provides.” You settled on a half truth to keep from lying, one Sukuna definitely picked up on. 

“What’s your name Omega?” He demanded.

You told him your name in a soft whisper. Cute name. He’d be sure to have his servants look into you and your records. 

“Well Omega,” He said, making a point not to use the title given to him. To remind you what you were. “You should probably get back to your beta. It’s not safe for a pretty little thing like you to be out in these woods alone.” It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that was a warning and a threat, the edge in his words making that much clear. You nodded to the warlord, before making your way home. You fought the urge to sprint with everything you had in you, knowing better than to activate his prey drive. 

He watched as you did, noting your refusal to run. Smart girl. He could feel his mouth watering as he watched your hips sway, and his body buzzed with the need to have you under him. He took a deep breath to recollect himself before making the walk home. He’d have you soon enough.

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He kept a close eye on you in the weeks that followed. Learning about how your marriage was arranged through his servants, and how your marriage was failing from watching you. To your credit, you did try in earnest to make it work. You were the perfect mate. You kept a tidy home, always had dinner ready, and were always happy to get on your back for your husband. 

And yet it did nothing. That asshole still acted as if he was gods fucking gift for “saving” your life, and as if you didn’t do enough. Dinner was never right, there was always an issue with the house, and every morning Sukuna could smell your dissatisfaction from the night before- still rolling off you in waves.  It was pathetic that a creature as divine as you was wasted on swine like him. The good news was that your scent was evolving. As the leaves changed colors your fragrance got thicker, and sweeter in some aspects. You clung to your beta even if he was woefully unequipped. Your heat was coming.

A fact you were all too aware of. You could feel it pooling in your stomach and feverish on your skin. The effects were already starting, and you knew this one was going to be hell. Your mate thrashed in between your legs, chasing his high in you. You felt close, so close. Your body was trembling with anticipation, electricity buzzing under your skin. All you needed was his knot and-

He pulled out of your quivering cunt, cumming on your stomach with a guttural moan. Oh, right. He didn’t have a knot. You whined as he painted you white, wanting to snap at him for wasting his load. You held back though, knowing that, in reality, the last thing you wanted was his pups. You watched as he rolled off the bed and grabbed his pants.

“W-wait, but Naoya-” You panted, “I’m so close, please-”

“You’re gonna have to finish yourself, I’m gonna be late for my train.” Your “mate” groaned as if you were an inconvenience. 

“But…” You whimpered, then let it go. You knew better than to argue, and besides. Your climax was already fleeting. “Do you have to go?” You asked softly. You understood that, as a beta, Naoya couldn’t sense when your heat was coming like an alpha could. You accepted that. What you found hard to accept was that he still planned a business trip during your heat cycle, despite you explicitly telling him that you would need him. 

“Yes, Sweetie,” He said it with so much ire and hate, you would have rather he called you a bitch. “This is my job. It doesn’t stop because you’re horny.” He snapped, tired of having this conversation again. His venom shut you up. You watched as he quickly got dressed, then grabbed his bags and rushed for the train station. You fought tears as you went to clean yourself up. Were you really so unloveable?

You often wondered what the worse fate was, being sacrificed to Ryomen Sukuna or being trapped in a loveless pair bond. For years you knew without doubt it was being sacrificed to the warlord. You were always grateful to your father for selling you to the beta, saving you from what would no doubt have been a cruel and untimely death. Naoya may have been cold at times, but surely he wasn’t as bad as Sukuna.

Or at least, that’s what you used to think. Before you had actually met the man, and felt the way your body reacted to his presence alone. Suddenly, the so-called king of curses invaded your every thought, and life trapped in a passionless marriage felt like a prison sentence. You thought about Sukuna constantly, especially in the days leading up to your heat. You chased his faint scent on the wind, traced his markings in your dreams, and envisioned him to endure your husband's advances. 

It left you a wreck. Especially now, as night fell and your body temperature rose. Your fingers were doing absolutely nothing for you, and wouldn’t for at least the next week. Which, was rather conveniently when your husband was due to return home. You knew your heat bothered him, but you never knew it bothered him this much. Resentment grew in you the more you thought about it. If he didn’t want a fucking omega, then why the fuck did he pay for one? 

You tried not to think about it as you opened your window, hoping the cool night air would do something to help cool down your feverish skin. You lived far enough away from the other villagers you didn’t really have to worry about a wayward alpha finding you. And at this point, you weren’t sure you would care if one of them did. 

You settled into your nest, albeit a bit reluctantly. The faint smell of your mate clung to it, and despite your bond mark it brought you little comfort. More just frustration. It didn’t smell right anymore. You quickly took off your sleep pants, finding them unbearably hot, leaving you in just a tank top and soaked panties as you drifted off to sleep.

Sukuna could try and say that he was just out on a stroll to enjoy the moonlight. That he enjoyed the peace that the dark brought with it, and was only out to clear his mind. He would be lying. The truth of the matter was Sukuna had been keeping tabs on you. And while your bitch of a mate may have been inflicted with brain worms, Sukuna was not. He knew you were alone, and in heat. And he fully planned to take care of you, in ways your beta couldn’t dream of doing.

Walking to your little shack at the edge of the woods felt like wading into a warm lake, your trail becoming thicker and thicker in the air as he made his way to you. It was intoxicating, and he couldn’t stop the visions of you whimpering underneath him from entering his mind. Needy and alone, fuck. He could feel his blood rushing in his veins as your scent laced into his senses and his psyche, and his cock ached for you.

He wasn’t shocked to find your window open. Of course your window was open. You were waiting for him, your true mate. That fucking beta be damned, you wanted him, why else would the window be open? He crawled into your room on instinct more than much else, your body calling to him like a siren's song. The reality of your heat hit him like a train as he took in your visage. Sleeping not-so-peacefully in your marital bed, mindlessly rutting into a pillow drenched with your slick. He fucking hated that you were reduced to fucking pillows.

He was right here, you just needed to let your proper alpha take care of you. Let him protect you, let him fuck you until you can’t walk, let him fill you to the brim- until you’re overflowing, let him fix the fucking stench of your nest. He was on your bed and spreading your legs before he even fully realized what he was doing, ripping your slick drenched panties off of you. On a normal night, he would have touched you and known you were burning alive with a fever. But tonight? He was molting lava with his own forced rut, and he didn’t even notice yet. 

Mates don’t need to ask before taking care of their mate in heat, so he doesn't even bother waking you up before shoving two fingers into your weeping pussy to get you ready for him. You whine out softly, back curling off of the bed as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you sharply. He smirked as he curled his fingers up, listening to your breath catch in your throat.

“Fuck, Sukuna..” You whimpered in your sleep. Of course you called out his name, you were his omega. You chose him, you were meant to be with him. Soon, there would be no doubt about that. After he covered you with his scent, after he marked you as his and only his, and when your stomach was swollen with his pups- pink haired, four eyed and undeniably his.

He shrugged off his robe, his rock hard cock burning with need and dripping pre-cum. He ran his dick up your slit, gathering your divine slick on his angry red tip. He felt the tension in his shoulders finally dissolve as he pushed into you, finally at home where he was supposed to be. He growled as he sunk in to his base in one swoop. 

You jolt awake with the sudden intrusion, your cunt torn between pushing the intruder out and sucking him in deeper. “Wh-wha…?” You were given no time to try and catch up to the situation before the assault on your g-spot started, leaving you a moaning mess. Sukuna lifted your hips, holding your body with just his forearms as he changed the angle he fucked you in to fuck you deeper, harder. He needed it to take.

You looked up and saw a shock of pink hair and sharp tattoos through bleary eyes. On the surface your body revolted, knowing this wasn’t your mate and he was not meant to be touching you. But something deeper, more primal rejoiced at feeling the alphas fat cock. “Fuck, fuck, more..” You whimpered, bucking your hips in time with his thrusts. You could feel his knot swelling inside you and all you wanted was him. Nothing had ever felt more right. 

Sukuna had fucked a lot of omegas during his ruts. He ran through whores like they were nothing. But none of them had ever felt like this. Your pussy was made for him, so perfect as it milked his cock. Your body reacted to him perfectly. You were made to be his. You were his. Every inch of your skin, every breath you took, every smile you gave you were his. He’d prove it. He grabbed you in a bruising grip as he bent over you, capturing you in a demanding kiss and taking what little breath you had away in a clash of teeth and tongues. You belonged to him.

He growled lowly, as he pulled back, throwing your ankles over his shoulders as he pressed his body weight into you, folding you in half. “Fuck, you’re so good,” He groaned, “So fucking tight for me Baby Girl. Gonna knot you, fill you with my pups,” You didn’t know if he was talking to you or himself but it didn’t matter. A thought that should have been deeply revolting to you as a marked woman had never sounded more euphoric.

“Yes, please,” You begged into his ear, “Fuck me, it’s s’ good. Fill me, I- I need you.” you slurred together whatever words you could grapple with. You felt drunk on the feeling of euphoria, you almost forgot sex could feel so good. Your words, albeit a bit jumbled, electrified the part of Sukuna’s brain that had already decided he was your mate. You didn’t just want him, you needed him. You needed him. Of course you needed him, you belonged to him. You were his and his alone. 

His his his his-

Then he smelled it. In the sea of apple, clove and cinnamon whiskey a sharp mildew scent hit his nose. The fucking mold of your “bond mark.” Sukuna saw fucking red, his body seething with rage as he remembered you weren’t truly his. No matter how deep he fucked his seed into you, or how much of his skin touched yours, you weren’t his. 

Not yet anyway. 

He plunged his teeth into your scent glands, right over your previous bond mark. You howled as he did, a wave of ecstasy rocking its way through your heated body and decimating your shocked nervous system as you came all over him. Aftershocks of your orgasm pulsed through your cunt in time with his thrusts, sending static electricity through your needy body. You instinctively dug your fangs into Sukunas scent glands, an act you were never able to perform on your (former) beta mate.

The relief that washed over him as you completed the bond mark was unlike anything he had ever felt before, and it left him in ruins. Cumming deep inside you, painting your womb white. The warm feeling he filled you with actually worked to (somehow) cool the raging inferno in your bloodstream, and you finally found relief from the hell you had been in. 

You stayed connected, him holding you close while he waited for his knot to deflate. You thought about Naoya. You had never been able to properly mark him because he didn’t have scent glands for you to mark. It met you were never really bonded, not like how you were bonded to Sukuna now. But, he was technically still your husband. This was his house and his bed you were getting fucked by a perfect stranger in. How would he react when he found you here with the warlord that owned the land? Would he find you here?

Would you regret it? 

You didn’t have time to really consider the ramifications of your actions before Ryomen was moving inside you again, and the last thing you wanted to think about was the boy that abandoned you. You whined underneath him, bringing your hands to tangle in his hair. He pressed his forehead to yours in response.

“Still with me Omega?” He asked as he started to pick up the pace, making you whine underneath him.

“I’m here my lord,” You mumbled softly.

“Good,” He punctuated the word with a sharp kiss before straightening up, “Cause it’s gonna take more than just that to knock you up.” He chuckled as his hips started to piston into yours, setting a punishing pace. The natural curve of his cock was seemingly designed to bully your hypersensitive g-spot, stimulating your body back to life as you gripped the sheets under you.

“Aww, look at my pretty little omega,” Sukuna cooed mockingly as he fucked his cum back into you, “All fucked out and full. Feels good to actually cum after spending so much time with a limp dick, doesn’t it slut?” Apparently, all it took was him getting to cum once for him to find his voice.

“So good, so fucking good.” You whimpered, “So big, so full…” And you had no problem feeding into it. His claws dug into your hips, leaving bruises defined enough you could take his fingerprints off of them. He watched the way your tits bounced as you tried to feebly hold onto the sheet, attempting to ground yourself however you could. He watched his bulge appear and reappear in your stomach with every thrust. He watched the way your skin glistened in the moonlight, begging him to mark it. He watched the way your eyes fluttered and glazed over with dazed pleasure. 

But the real show was happening where the two of you were connected. Where your slick coated his cock, creating a foamy ring around the base. Where your natural lube mixed with his load, making the most vulgar sounds as he fucked your quivering cunt. God, he couldn’t have asked for a better mate.

Your warm pussy hugged him perfectly, begging him for more and pulling him even deeper into you with every thrust. Every movement of your hips sent a wave of euphoria through him, and he desperately chased both of your highs. He wanted to see you cum. He didn’t get to the first time.

 He wouldn’t make that mistake again. You were finally finally his after months of coveting you. Of watching you, of needing you wanting you, of imagining you, you finally belonged to him. He was going to see what you looked like when you came for him god damn it!

“You gonna cream for me again Sweetheart?” He growled, “Squirt all over my dick like a good girl? I know you are, I can feel it, fuck-” His words fell apart on his tongue as you clenched around him. Stars blotted out your vision as your second climax started to creep up on you, slowly tingling up your spine and taking over your body. You bucked your hips into his erratically, chasing the high only he could give you. Sparks of bliss exploded under your skin as you felt him start to swell again.

And suddenly he felt way too far away. You needed him closer. You needed his scent, his skin, him. You ripped one of your hands away from the bedsheets and reached out, trying to communicate what you wanted. His head tilted to the side and he scoffed as he looked at your outstretched hand.

“Words slut, what do you want?” He growled.

“My mate.” You whimpered. He was immediately leaning down to you, pressing his chest to yours and letting your fingers intertwine with his. How could he deny you your mate? Your body exploded into a thousand sparks of ecstasy where his skin ment yours. His scent wrapped around your senses like an old blanket, cozy and familiar and safe. You whined softly and closed your eyes to embrace for impact.

“No.” He growled, using his free hand to pull your hair and force your eyes open, “Look at me.” He demanded. Your watery eyes held his fiery ones as you moaned pathetically under him.

“I’m so close..”

“Then cum for me.” The floodgates opened and you were suddenly drowning in a sea of ecstasy and dopamine. Your hips thrashed against your will and your legs shook like the last leaves on autumn trees. You swore you saw entire galaxies be born before your eyes as you were hit with one of the hardest climaxes of your life. Your eyes watered as they looked into his, your skin felt flushed against his touch, and your grip on his hand tightened.

“Fuck, Ryomen…” He hadn’t heard his first name spoken in years. His body slammed into yours as his own climax hit him with a brick. He fucked you as best as he could through his knot, riding out both of your highs as he filled you to the point of overflowing and then some. His entire body was racked with euphoria as he came harder than he even thought possible. 

He collapsed on top of you, rolling you both to the side so he didn’t crush you with his body weight. For a while, the only sound was of the two of you trying to catch your breath. You felt his arms wrap around you and calloused hands rub your back gently to sooth you. He kissed your neck almost sweetly.

“You’re doing so good sweetheart,” He praised in a whisper, one soft enough the wind threatened to take it away, “So good for me.” It made your stomach flutter. His presence was instantly calming, much more so than your ex’s. You might have even fallen asleep, if you didn’t feel him start to move again, still rock solid inside of you. 

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Your body was sore the next morning when you woke up, but the fever had subsided for now, finally giving you room to breathe and think about literally anything other than lust. The first thing you noticed was that you were not at home. You jolted up in bed, a soft whimper leaving your throat. 

“Silence, woman.” That was when you registered the body next to you in the bed. You looked over to see Ryomen, fully annoyed at being woken up. “You’re safe. I’m here.” He grumbled as he pulled you back into his side. You weren’t sure what was more impressive, that he managed to return to (what you assumed was) his home after last night, or that he managed to carry you with him. 

“Sukuna-”

“Ryomen.” He corrected you with a dangerous growl. You paused, a bit taken back.

“Ryomen,” You accepted the correction, “what happens now?”

“Hopefully you go back to sleep.” He sighed, irritated to have been woken up at the ungodly hour of 12 pm. While he was still in rut no less! He didn’t get a lot of chances to sleep during this time, and neither did you. You needed the rest.

“No, I mean with…with,” You didn’t know how to put it.

“What, you mean your cuck ex? Don’t worry about it.” He didn’t hide that he was irritated with you for bringing him up first thing in the morning. 

“....Is he going to be hurt?” You asked softly. Sukuna felt his lip twitch.

“If I have it my way, yes.” He didn’t mince words. Why the fuck did you care so much about that loser anyway? You thought about your mates words, then nodded. 

“Good.” You said, finally settling back into Ryomens arms and relaxing into him. He didn’t hide the smile that tugged on his lips. He knew he loved you. 

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thank you lovlies, for supporting my work! @sk8ttles, @blkkizzat,@littyasatittyyy,@ketchupsush1 and @risuola

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[tokoyamisstuff]

Stitches

Mark Hoffman x GN! Reader

A/N: Wtf, I had this basically finished work in my drafts all this time?? Anyways, enjoy.

Summary: After Mark Hoffman's true identity has been revealed, his personal apprentice has to step in.

Warnings: Angst, Blood

Notes: Hurt/Comfort, Takes place in between SAW 6 and 7

Words: 1800

"Almost done..."

You were in the very same warehouse as the participants of the current game, tinkering on some of your mentor's latest inventions.

Mark would never openly admit, but while he was the mastermind behind most traps, it was your finishing touch that made them possible.

Not bad for a basically self-taught engineer, right?

As your eyes wanderes to the timer on the top corner of the livestream, you realized that this test was almost over. To not get distracted you had muted the old TV. However due to the proximity, most of the dampened screams would still dring to your ear.

Gladly, the more you get used to all of this, the more selective your hearing becomes - so you had already fallen deaf to them.

You huffed while trying to lift the heavy tool onto the workbench again, not bothering to wait for Mark to help you. Taking a sip of water, you watched the subject reaching the final part of his test.

Unbelievable that it’s already been one year since you’ve become the next generations Jigsaw’s apprentice, assisting Mark with every game ever since John and Amanda had passed away...

...and in your eyes, the sacrifices you had to make were all worth it.

Grabbing a towel to pat off the sweat from your face and chest, your mind wandered back to the day you had revealed yourself to him. Being a mere admirer of Jigsaw's work and philosophy, having found out Detective Hoffman's double life on your own.

But he was different than John Kramer and Amanda Young. Played by his own rules, which you oddly sympathized with.

Why giving those dangers to society - like Seth Baxter - a second chance? They shouldn't be allowed to roam freely. No, all they deserved was to be put down for good, after experiencing what their victims had.

You remembered Mark's hands on your throat the second you confessed to him. Couldn't blame him, though - last time someone told him "I know who you are", there was a shotgun draped to his neck shortly after.

The mere fact that you had survived this encounter, let alone having been declared his secret accomplice, made your chest swell with pride.

After all, you had gained somewhat trust and respect of basically the most misanthropic person on earth.

After a while of negotiation Mark had been impressed by your skill, both physical and mental. Having figured out his identity when not even the police or FBI couldn't...

...furthermore, your almost obsessively worship of his every action was exactly the kind of ego stroke he just couldn't reject.

And so you ended up his loyal subordinate, working for him from the shadows and taking every wish as your command.

Over time, the two of you had become a lethal combination - complimenting each talents and evening out the other's flaws.

It was pretty obvious that he was a sociopath, unable to sharw any personal bond with anyone. You may have shared a heated fling or a passionate night occasionally, but that was it.

This man was just using you, and you have been equally deranged enough to enjoy this. Addicted to the thrill of adrenaline that came to being associated with him.

You’d follow him blindly - even if it meant your own death.

Speaking of...

You jumped at the sound of a heavy steel door opening, immediately cocking your gun towards the entrance - force of habit...

...yet instead of a threat, something even worse came inside.

"Mark!"

This was certainly not the first time you had seen him covered in that much blood, but this time was different - it was his own, and much to your surprise made you freak out.

The man mutely limped towards your workshop, only a dirty cloth covering his torn cheek. "Shit, you're going to get an infection..."

Rushing to get the first aid kid while he threw the reverse bear trap onto the table, you figured this was not the time to ask about what exactly happened.

Not that he'd be able to answer anyway even if he wanted to, given his current state.

You couldn't help but laugh as he tried to snatch the medical supplies out of your hand. "You know you're allowed to need help sometimes, right?"

He furrowed his brows at you, and while most normal people would be intimidated by his demeanour, you found him almost adoringly stubborn.

"Now come here, would you..." you ordered as he finally let go off of the kit, worry present in your tone.

The man grunted approvingly, making you laugh. “You know, Amanda was right: You really are one of the last cavemen.”

Good thing he wasn’t able to talk right not - otherwise he’d advise you to never take that filthy name into your mouth ever again if you wanted to keep on living.

When he was finally sat, you carefully evaluated the wound - even though on the inside, it was hard to keep it together seeing him that way.

You were amazed at his composure up until now - the pain must be agonizing...

There was no time to lose either, a major blood vessel was torn and he was still actively losing a lot of blood.

Much to his luck, you were prepared for every eventuality. Glad you took those anatomy and first aid lessons back in the day, you just knew with your kind of profession that would pay off someday.

You quickly cleaned both hands from the motor oil, before pouring a whole bottle of your mentor's booze over them and the wound.

Deeply concentrated, you stuck out your tongue as you started patching him up. Hoffman warily eyed your every move, every stitch you so carefully placed to reconstruct his facial features.

This whole time, Mark had one hand firmly placed on your knee, squeezing ever so slightly. You were almost done, admiring his strenght to not even flinch as you patched him back together.

“Too bad for that handsome face, though...” you mumbled to yourself, speaking faster than your mind could catch up on. Not that he’d care about appearance or something like that anyway. “But men with scars are pretty handsome, you know?”

You handed him a mirror, scolding him to not touch the wound as he evaluating your handiwork. "The gentleman is allowed to thank me now” you chuckled as you noticed he wasn’t sure if he could talk again now.

"That bitch is gonna pay for this" he finally spoke, still a little slurred since he'd need to get used to the feeling.

"You're welcome" you rolled your eyes, still cheerful before busying yourself with bandaging his hand as well. “There's not much I can do with a fracture like this, but it'll probably heal itself. Just try not using it too much. Punch with the other hand, maybe? Haha..."

“We need to go” he stated with that gravely voice of his, face contorting in pain as he tried to clench his fist. "Jill tried to kill me. She got away, the police is most likely on their way."

"Ten steps ahead of you." There was enough time to understand the mess Hoffman had gotten himself into later. So for now you quickly threw both your identification papers in the fire barrel that had kept you warm until now, before turning to him.

You softly pushed him down onto the chair again, no words needed to tell him he should rest and let you handle this for a change. Just packing a bag with all the necessities, covering the workshop in gasoline and you were good to go.

“How sad...” you thought, turning around to watch your work go up in flames “I was just done with the tool.”

As if Mark knew what you were thinking, he rubbed some circles on your back before pushing you to walk faster. "We can always make a new one. Let's go."

The future might be uncertain, but one thing you was sure of: Soon, Detective Mark Hoffman would officially be a wanted criminal...

...but as long as you had each other, there was still hope for a good ending to this story.

"It's not over, but I need to stay incognito from now on" he uttered a little out of breath, your old car shaking a little as the heavy man entered the backseat. "You'll need to make the preparations and anything else I can entrust to you."

"Of course" you acknowledged, rummaging in your bag until you found what you were looking for. "Everything you want."

Just when you were getting the srynge into his field of view, Mark would panic, painfully grabbing your wrist to stop you.

"No..." he was so utterly exhausted, yet terrified of the possibility to be forcefully put to sleep like his victims and himself once.

“Mark...calm down” you cooed understandingly, your palm rubbing his cheek. “C’mon, it’s me after all. There's just morphine in there, it's not enough to knock you out. I promise."

Being such a control freak, it was hard for him to be at the mercy of another. Yet he nodded mutely and rolled up his sleeve to inject the pain medication directly into his bloodstream.

After all the fucked up things happening, sometimes he’d forget that there was actually one person he could trust.

"You know" he sighed, sinking deeper into the car seat as the drug showed it's effect, making him slowly but steadily relax. "You're everything I have."

“That’s the morphine speaking” you giggled, trying to keep your eyes on the road and he couldn't think but wonder if you always had such a soothing voice.

...and with you humming so sweetly, the sunset light illuminating your skin like this...have you always been this beautiful, or was he really just high?

“Maybe" he ultimately spoke, deciding he'd have to figure it out after everything was over. "Or it just makes me talk about things I usually keep to myself.”

You cracked a smile at this half-assed answer. Typical - but you admittedly liked even this part about him.

“Only this last game...” he continued stammering, and it was actually cute to see this softer side of this brute of a man. “John Kramer’s work is almost done.”

“And what are you going to do afterwards? Any plans, boss?”

With him being on the backseat, your eyes would only briefly meet through the rearview mirror...

...and what you saw may be the same man you knew for so long already, and yet so different.

Happy, somehow.

Smiling for a change. Genuinely and wholeheartedly, not this fake one he'd put up to fit in with society.

And you knew this one was just for you.

“When this is all over, I want it to be you and me.”

[hauntingkiki]

Hiii I was wondering if you can do a venture fluff alphabet? 😚

I NEVER KNEW THIS WAS A THING OMG

Sloan Camron Fluff Alphabet

Overwatch

2nd POV

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

A = Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

- sloan will literally do anything with you, but they prefer museum dates, pottery classes/paint pottery, aquariums, hikes, day trips, amusement parks-just anything that’s outside really

- but they also just like to relax with you at home, staying in comfy clothes and just cuddle all day!

B = Beauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

- sloan LOVES your eyes! just how they sparkle in the sun, how they light up when you’re talking about an interest and much more! sloan could stare into your eyes all day if you’d let them

- venture really like their dimples/smile. they’ll quote the line from coco where miguel goes “dimple. no dimple. dimple. no dimple.” just randomly😭

C = Comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

- honestly, it kind of depends on how you were acting when they found you

- like if you were pissy and in a bad mood, they’d leave you alone to cool off. and if you’re crying your eyes out, they will not leave your side, holding you in their arms and helping you calm down from your state

- but sloan will try to get you to talk about what’s going on, so that way they can give you some advice

- and to get your mind off of it, they’ll kiss you all over your face and just cuddle with you:)

D = Dreams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

- sloan definitely wants to get married to you sometime in the future:}

- maybe a few kids if you both agree on it, but they’ll totally be fine if you didn’t want a family!

- they’d probably wait until all of this when they leave overwatch and possibly the wayfinder’s. they just want to prioritize you and your relationship over everything and with them traveling they feel like it’ll be hard, but if you tell them to stay then they well!

E = Equal - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

- they’re kinda of both, not one over the other, directly in the middle

F = Fight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

- sloan would be super forgiving, they’re the type of person to not want to go to bed angry at one another, so they’re always wanting to talk things out unless it’s something you don’t want to talk about in the moment

- if the two of you get into a fight, it’s the calmest thing ever. neither of you are yelling at one another, or accusing each other. just; one person goes first and gives their perspective, then when the first person is done, the other person will go

- it’s a very calming environment, maybe some crying from both of you, but the problem is instantly resolved!

G = Gratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

- sloan is very grateful for everything that they’ve gotten in life, all the sacrifices they made, their family/friends made,

- if you’re working your ass off, sloan is SO thankful for you and all that you do! all of your achievements will not go unnoticed by your partner!:)

H = Honesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

- sloan isn’t hiding anything from you(unless its family related stuff that they’re not ready to share yet) but you know everything about them

I = Inspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

- i think you mainly helped venture noticed some of the bad habits that they have, like how they’re kinda oblivious and how they talk over people by accident.

- obviously, the habits aren’t completely gone, as they have had these habits ever since they were a kid, but they’ve gotten better!

J = Jealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

- sloan hardly gets jealous, but if they do it’s for the right reason; like if someone’s hitting on you when you’re making it obvious that you’re taken or stuff like that

- if they are jealous, they’ll act supper touchy/flirty with you in front of the person that’s annoying you. they’ll kiss your cheeks, let their hands wonder, have their hand around your waist and whatnot

K = Kiss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

- at first they were a horrible kisser, since they’ve never been in a relationship before

- but as time quickly went on, they got better

- the first kiss was kind of romantic, it was after a date/hangout and you both went for a kiss. their lips were chapped, tasted like gravel/dirt, and they accidentally nicked you with their chipped tooth, which made your lip bleed

L = Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o? (this is from a scenario i wrote on my wattpad🌚)

- they waited a few weeks before confessing, getting advice from angela and also making sure that their feelings were permanent as well as a few other factors they wanted to clear up

- "i need to tell you something!"

"..."

"I REALLY LIKE YOU!! PLEASE GO OUT WITH ME!"

"..."

*gasps dramatically* "YOU WILL?!"

"...”

"...why the fuck am i roleplaying with a rock."

- this is how the confession went:

"i like you! i think? i dunno! everything is so confusing about this, i don't know what i'm doing!-"

"it's okay! i already knew you liked me. and i like you too, sloan."

"...REALLY?!"

M = Marriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

- HELL YEAH THEY WANT TO MARRY YOU

- they were SOOO nervous about proposing, they asked everyone they knew for tips and advice for it

- they probably proposed with a custom ring with your favorite gemstone/your birthstone

- and they probably proposed either in a really cave that they explored OR your dream location

- again, sloan was very nervous about proposing. they almost fucked it up from how nervous they were but they were relieved when you said yes!:)

- nothing about your relationship really changed, just the fact that the two of you were engaged and getting married!

N = Nicknames - What do they call their s/o?

- sloan had a verity of nicknames for you😭

cariño

mi amor

babe

hun

mi vida

hermosa/hermosos

tesoro

any cute gem related nickname that you like

O = On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

- they are the same…just 10 times worse

- they will not shut up about you (unless the person they’re talking to gets annoyed by their yapping) they’re just so in love with you!

- it’s super obvious to others, since whenever you walk into the room, they have a love sick look on their face

- they randomly give you artifacts, gems and cool rocks that they found that reminded them of you! it could even be a rock they found on the sidewalk and they’d give it to you!

P = PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

- they’re not really bragging, just yapping about their undying love, like i said on On Cloud Nine

- sloan isn’t shy to kiss you in front of others, the wayfinder’s have seen WAYY worse, so they’re not bothered by a little pda from the two of you:)

Q = Quirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

- sloan can make you laugh without even trying.

- they could say the dumbest thing and it’s the funniest thing ever

R = Romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

- they’re very romantic!

- they will do everything and anything for you, just to see you smile!

S = Support - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

- venture is very supportive, your biggest cheerleader EVER

- they do their best to learn about your hobby/goal so they can help you in the best way possible!

T = Thrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

- venture kinda of prefers the same routine, but is down to change some things up in the relationship to add to the thrill.

- “we gotta have lore for when we’re older!”

U = Understanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

- they know you from how much you tell them things, which is hopefully a lot since they tell you a lot of things in their life:)

- they’re very understanding with things, and there might be some things that they don’t understand, but are willing to learn more about it for you, like in Support

V = Value - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

- your relationship is very important to sloan, they wouldn’t want to lose it

- they would quit their job if you told them too, you matter too much to them for them to lose

W = Wild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

- venture has a buttload of songs saved for your ringtone, such as

my girl, the temptations

be my baby, the ronettes

better in the dark, jordana, tv girl

luna, amore e no, piero piccioni

and a bunch of other songs:)

- they also have many pictures of you in their wallet, one on their drill and some other places

X = XOXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

- they are very affectionate, i go into more detail in the sfw alphabet btw:3

- they will DIE if they don’t get cuddles and kisses from you! you are their LIFELINE!

Y = Yearning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

- sloan will stay up late watching videos of the two of you, looking at pictures, listening to voicemails/voice messages, reread old texts, and…yk…

- they’re just waiting until the mission is over until they’re in your arms again!!

Z = Zeal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

- yes! they’re willing to do anything to make you happy!

- unless it’s murdering someone then they might have to decline (they’ll ask someone else to do it/j)

- but in all seriousness, if you wanted them to leave overwatch/wayfinder’s they would do it, even though it would pain them to leave just an amazing job, they would for you:)

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!! AND THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST! I LOVE DOING THEM!

i need more requests😔

[ssinnerplazahotel]

╭──────────.★..─╮

*Chapter Fourteen*

╰─..★.──────────╯

WC: 7k

Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, toxic elvis, manipulation, drug use, it’s the 50s/60s, painful-difficult-devastating-life-changing-extraordinary love

Pairing: elvis x black reader

Disclaimer: full of inaccuracies, inaccurate timeline, inaccurate depictions of Graceland, historically inaccurate themes and items

Masterlist: Prologue, Ch. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

finale pt. 1

Ray drove you home early that night. They’d gotten on a roll with recording and were going to be doing overtime. Elvis didn’t want you to leave, he told you that he’d feel better knowing that you were there.

You would’ve stayed if you hadn’t been so uneasy about the letter.

Ray was keeping an extra watchful eye on you and your surroundings, but you’d feel safer back at Graceland. Or at least you thought you would.

When you got there it was empty aside from the few family members that Elvis hadn’t bothered to introduce you to.

Your unrest only intensified after Ray was gone. You paced the floors of the house anxiously while you waited for Elvis to get back from the studio. You found yourself checking around every corner, waiting for something to happen. It was a miserable feeling.

When Elvis did return home it was almost the next morning. He found you in your personal dressing room—you hadn’t bothered to move any clothes in and it remained empty aside from the vanity pushed against the back wall.

When he found you, you’d turned to other means of relaxation. You weren’t as relieved to see him as you thought you’d be—instead it felt like the thing lurking behind the corner had finally jumped out.

“Birdie?” He wondered. “What are you doing?”

He had caught you in the middle of a thought, one of many conclusions that you’d come to during your long night of binging and worrying.

“I want a baby.”

“What?”

“I was just thinking and I just thought…you get whatever you want. I want a baby.”

“…We’ll talk about it.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. If you can’t meet those demands, then we don’t have anything going here.”

“Where’s this coming from?”

“We don’t go together, E. I go with you, yes. But so does every other woman that comes your way.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s true. A-And…you’ve made sacrifices for us, but so have I. Don’t I deserve to be compensated for the things I’ve given up? What about the people I’ve lost?”

You used the bottom of your discarded glass to crush one of the pills scattered across the vanity.

“Don’t do that.” He grabbed you up by your forearm but you struggled.

“Let me go.” You snatched away and fell back into your seat.

He stood there for a moment, rubbing his eyes in frustration before trying again. He wasn’t angry—you couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“Come on, honey,” He said, his words were surprisingly gentle. He stepped forward and took your hands, helping you out of your chair. “You’re done for the night.”

He dusted the pill residue from the vanity with his palm and took the bottom of your face in his other hand, making you meet his eyes.

“No more of this,” He said. “Do you hear me?”

“They told me to do it like this.”

“Who?”

You shrugged, not saying. He looked pissed but he was gentle with you as he led you out of the room.

“You overdid it tonight, that’s all.” He helped you into bed. “When you’re back to yourself and thinking clearly~”

“I’m thinking clearly.”

“When you’re back to yourself, we’ll have this conversation.”

You knew you’d never speak of tonight again unless he brought it up. You wouldn’t dare, it was hard enough saying it the first time.

“You wouldn’t notice if I dropped dead.”

“Not true.”

“You’d notice if I wasn’t exactly where you told me to be when you told me to be there but I could just…stop breathing. Couldn’t I?”

He didn’t react. You wanted him to, you needed him to.

“You don’t care about me,” You continued. “Just about what you can do with me. Where you can put me to keep me out of the way until you want me again.”

“No.”

“Then why does it feel like that?”

He sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed with his back to you. “Because you’re out of your mind.”

You almost laughed. “It’s always all my fault.”

“It starts to feel that way, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, it does.”

He rubbed his eyes. You felt like just another burden in his life. You weren’t sure he cared at all about what you were saying.

“You want to know what I found out today? A lot of people wish I were dead.” He was still but you watched his movements closely—he tensed. “They want to kill me. They sent me a letter telling me exactly how they’d do it.”

“What?” His head turned in your direction.

“Somebody slipped it under the door of the green room.”

“Where were Ray and Serena?”

“I sent them away.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to be alone.”

“They’re there to protect you.”

“I know why they’re there.”

He leaned his elbows against his knees, ruffling his hair as he released a troubled sigh. “I’ll have them look into it.”

You closed your eyes. “It’s no use. Just add it to the pile, I know it’s not the first one.”

“I’d never let anything happen to you.”

“Sometimes I wish it would so I could stop waiting for it.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why?”

“Because…I can’t think about losing you.”

When you looked you were surprised to see some emotion stirring behind his eyes.

The next day, you were met with an array of firearms laid out across the bed for you to choose from. You were mortified at first but eventually convinced that you’d be better off with it than without.

“Pick one,” Elvis insisted. “You can have 'em all if you want.”

“I don’t know how to shoot a gun.”

“Don’t worry, darlin, I’ll teach you.”

He stood behind you and picked up the first firearm. He placed it in your hands, guiding you to grip the cool handle.

“This one’s small and light, so I thought it’d be a good fit for you,” He explained as you held the gun out in front of you. “You’re a natural.”

You laughed. “I’ll never use it.”

“Hopefully you won’t have to.”

“Then what’s the point?”

“The point is that I’ll feel better knowing that you have a way to protect yourself if Ray, Serena, or I get away from you.”

“That won’t happen again.”

His expression softened. “I know, baby, it was an accident that it happened at all.”

You tried to examine his expression but you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “Are you mad at me?”

He hugged you, kissing your temple. “Come on. I wanna show you how to shoot this thing at least once.”

You picked up the gun and let him reposition your arms. “Like this?”

He hummed in approval. “Just like that.”

The two of you were called for an impromptu press conference at least once every other week. The invitations were always adamant that you were in attendance but you were too anxious to speak in front of the crowd, so Elvis told you that you didn’t have to. They only wanted you there to hear their questions and complaints.

“We’ve been scrambling to get even the slightest glimpse of the two of you since the wedding. Are we expecting any big news?”

“Big news?”

“Any baby fever going around?”

“Nah, we’re good and vaccinated over here.”

“How’s your wife Elvis?”

“We haven’t heard from her since her debut interview.”

“She’s fine. She’s usually in some kind of trouble.”

You smiled to yourself—keeping your gaze either directed down or at Elvis. You sat by his side as he gave the press conference, but that was the extent of your willingness to be a part of the interviewing process.

The cameras never stopped flashing, and it was hard to hear the questions over the constant shouting for your attention. You pretended not to hear them and willed the time to fly by.

“People are concerned by your wife’s silence. They fear there’s a lack of agency on her part. As well as a disregard for the movements happening as we speak.”

“I mean, it’s nothing political,” Elvis said, reiterating the response that he had practiced on the way over. “She’s a smart girl, she has her own thoughts and opinions that the world deserves to hear. But at the end of the day she didn’t sign up to be a part of any of this. So I can’t ask her to sit down and do an open interview with the press. It’s unreasonable and I don’t want to put her in that position. I’m asking a lot to even have her here right now.”

“Even if it’s by association, she is in the public eye and people, your fan’s most importantly, are entitled to some access~”

“I-I agree, honey, I do~”

“It comes with the territory!”

“She has to answer to someone!”

“You’re right.”

“There are people out there that want to see the two of you dead or in jail!”

The crowd was getting restless and you could tell that Elvis was struggling to stay above water. He leaned over and spoke into your ear. “Go with Jerry, baby.”

Jerry was there before he finished the sentence, helping you out of your chair. The room erupted in protests as you were escorted off of the stage.

“They’re ruthless,” Jerry said when you were safely behind the door of a green room.

“I’m starting to think a picture’s worth more than a thousand words,” You said, laughing along with him for a moment before the door opened and Serena entered—Liz trailing behind. “Thanks, Jer.”

“Let me know if you need anything,” He said, slipping out of the room.

“My cigarettes, Serena.” You sighed and sat down on the lime couch pushed against the wall. “I think they’re gonna love the gloves, Liz.”

“You looked great up there,” Liz said. “There’s a reason the entire country either wants to kill you or be you.”

The conference came to an end but you weren’t allowed to leave until all press was escorted off the premises. Elvis found you in the green room shortly after he was allowed offstage.

“There’s my girl,” He said, lifting you from the ground briefly as he engulfed you in a hug.

“What’d they say about me after I left?” You asked, shying away from the kiss he left on your neck.

“They said ‘we hate to see her leave, but lord have mercy.’” You laughed, shooing his hands away from your ass.

“Not in front of all these people.”

“They’re watching for a reason.”

You cut your eye at him and got ready to go. At Graceland things were business as usual. Your former dressing room was coming along nicely as a nursery—it was nearly done, but as vacant as your womb.

“You spend too much time in here,” Elvis said when he saw you there again that night.

You turned in his arms as he hugged you, abandoning the clothes you were putting away. You laid your head against his chest, listening to the steady sound of his heart beating. You stood there in silence for a moment, not thinking about anything specific.

“You should go to bed. We have an early flight tomorrow.”

“Sending me to bed already?”

He laughed, taking you by the hand and leading you out of the room. You got ready for bed but you were restless still.

“Serena’s gonna go with you to the doctor,” Elvis said as you stood by the sink putting your toiletries away. “I have work.”

“I’ll go alone.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“Then Ray can go in with me. I don’t mind.”

He nodded but he didn’t look thrilled about the idea. As if you were supposed to be anymore thrilled at the idea of going with Serena. You could tolerate her for the most part—but you didn’t want her to have any part in this.

“How long are we in Vegas?” You asked, leaving no more room for discussion about the matter.

“Just for the summer.” He followed you out of the bathroom.

“Sounds like this is gonna be a good one,” You said optimistically. “George Sidney and Ann Margret? That’s exciting, right?”

Elvis hummed halfheartedly in agreement. “I don’t know how much time they’re spending on it.”

You climbed into bed, patting the empty spot next to you. “Lay with me until I fall asleep.”

“Is that all I’m good for?” He asked, getting in. “Shouldn’t we at least work on that little assignment of ours?”

“Assignment?”

“Mhm. Give the doctor something to check for tomorrow.”

“That’s not how it works.”

“Humor me.”

You always knew to prepare for the worst and hope for the best. You weren’t optimistic, not when it came to matters relating to yourself. Not because you were unlucky. You were more fortunate than you could appreciate, but that good fortune only extended so far.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Becoming pregnant wouldn’t be an issue. Maintaining the pregnancy would be difficult due to the abnormalities within your uterus.”

Abnormalities. She said it so casually, breaking the news plainly and without much empathy. She wasn’t cold, but you had wished she’d been more gentle as she crushed your dream of being a mother.

Was it a dream?

Distraction or dream, the difference didn’t matter now.

“…So, there’s nothing?”

“I always encourage couples to keep trying. In situations like these you can never really know.”

There were some things that were natural—undisputed. Some things that happened without effort or explanation. And there were things you had to fight for. Things that needed a little extra commitment and attention. You thought that having a baby would be one of those undisputed things. However, you were wrong.

“How’d it go?”

“All good, Ray. Thank you.”

It was you. You were the problem. You didn’t know how you were going to explain this to Elvis and you didn’t want to. It wasn’t something that was your fault exactly, but you still felt immense guilt.

“Are we meeting Elvis on set?”

“I was told directly back to the hotel.”

Your thoughts were too cloudy to care about the sudden change of plans. You weren’t sure how much longer you’d be able to save face anyway.

You hated traveling with Elvis, especially without Andrea. You hated being alone when he was away. But it was either that or being tucked away in a corner somewhere guarded by Ray and Serena.

When you saw Elvis again he asked about your appointment. You smiled and told him that it went well. That everything was good…perfect.

“I’m glad,” He said, keeping his back to you as he got undressed. “I knew it would be.”

“How was the first day?” You asked, changing the subject.

“Good.” He shrugged.

“I thought Ray would bring me by earlier,” You said. “I guess things got too busy?”

“That’s usually how it goes.” He stood from the bed and went into the bathroom.

You fell silent, letting your expression fall when the door clicked shut.

He was distant. Normally you would've noticed. If your mind hadn’t been so preoccupied you probably wouldn’t have been able to notice anything else.

When he returned he had given you a run down of the next day’s schedule—it didn’t include you.

“It’s easier if you aren’t on set. It’s not like you’d be missing anything.”

“Oh…”

“It’s just another thing. Don’t overthink it.”

*

Serena came to you one night in the middle of the summer—in tears with her luggage in tow.

“I’m so sorry,” She cried, hugging you. “I never meant to hurt you. You didn’t deserve it.”

“Serena, what’s going on?”

“I can’t do this anymore.” She dried her tears futilely.

You stepped aside for her to enter. “Let’s talk inside.”

“No,” She said, shaking her head adamantly. “I can’t. I just…I can’t handle it.”

“Can’t handle what?” You asked.

“…You don’t know?” Her expression shifted into a more apologetic one. “H-He…He’s been with her. Everyone was saying so but I didn’t believe it until I asked him a-and…he completely lost it.”

You were slow to process her words. “Been with who?”

“Ann,” She said, more tears forming as she forced herself to say her name. “Margaret.”

You nodded and reminded yourself that you shouldn’t react, you had to remain stoic. “So what?”

“Wh…What?”

“What are you gonna do?”

She looked confused and at a loss for words. You left the space for her to respond.

“I-I don’t know.”

“You didn’t care when it was me you were screwing over. Now I’m supposed to feel bad because you’ve been replaced by someone shinier than you?”

She shook her head, pressing her lips together and wiping her face. “N-No, it’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” You shifted impatiently. “What would you like me to do?”

“I-I just wanted to tell you that I’m leaving. And that I’m sorry.”

“It’s not okay.”

She nodded in understanding. “Okay.”

You moved to step back into your dimly lit hotel room, but hesitated. “I’m sorry he broke your heart, Serena.”

“Does it not break yours?”

“…It does.”

She stood there for a moment, contemplating her next words. “You don’t deserve this.”

You smiled softly. “I don’t deserve anything.”

She stopped you again. “I know he’ll never tell you, but I think you should know…”

“It gets worse?” You meant it as a joke but Serena obviously wasn’t in the mood. “What is it?”

“He helped the Colonel arrange the wedding,” She confessed. “The only way Parker would do it was if Elvis signed a contract for a deal with one of his execs.”

“…What?”

“The movie contract, Elvis signed it because Parker helped him convince the board to settle~”

“I-I heard you.”

“…I thought you should know.”

You sighed, bewildered. “Any other deep dark secrets that you think I should know?”

“No.”

“Please leave.”

“Okay…I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

*

Elvis didn’t grace your “shared” room often that summer. You never knew where he was, you never knew what he was doing. It was a drastic change in pace compared to the way things had been going. You went from seeing him every day to not seeing him at all.

Ray was forced to keep you company whenever you were summoned or forced out of the room simply because the press ‘wanted to see you.’ He was always there.

“What’s wrong?”

“If I try to have a baby I’ll kill it. Well, my body…it’ll kill the baby.”

“Should I call Elvis?”

“N-No. I think he’s somewhere screwing his co-star.”

You knew you shouldn’t have called him into your room, you were out of your head with despair and you had no one else to talk to. You hated to take advantage, but he was the only person there for you.

“That’s~ It’s nothing, don’t worry about that,” You said dismissively, inviting him to sit next to you on your unmade bed. “I-I called you because…I don’t know why. I thought you’d listen.”

“I take it the appointment didn’t go well?” He seemed hesitant but he sat down with you.

You shook your head. “It tracks. I mean, of course I can’t have a baby. No baby deserves me as a mother.”

“That’s not true. You’re a good person.”

“How would you know?”

“I pay attention.”

You couldn’t convince him that you were a horrible person, no matter what you said. He refused to accept even the slightest implication that you may not have always had the best intentions. At that moment, you were afraid you had the worst intentions.

“I shouldn’t stay.”

“I want you to.”

“It’s four in the morning.”

“So?”

“You should rest.”

“You’ll be right outside anyway, right?”

He cracked a little smile and shook his head. You wondered if a part of him wanted to stay. “I can’t. I’ll lose my job if he finds out I was even in here.”

Just like that whatever illusion that you had created of him being your friend vanished. He wasn’t someone you could confide in, despite his continuous presence in your life. You were his job. Bottom line.

“You’re right,” You said, apologetically. “I don’t want to get you in trouble. ”

“I know,” He said before turning to leave. “I’ll send Jerry in to check on you, but I’m right outside if you need me. I-I mean, If there’s an emergency.”

“…I’ll try not to start any fires.”

Ray’s message wouldn’t get to Jerry without getting to Elvis. You had hoped that he would leave them out of it but you knew when you saw Elvis the following night that he’d heard. He didn’t have to say anything.

“E,” You started as soon as the door swung shut.

“Go ahead,” He said when you stopped short, crossing his arms and waiting for you to continue.

You weren’t sure what you were going to say. You were at a loss, you had expected him to start digging into you immediately. You watched him carefully as he shifted the chair in the corner toward you and sat down.

“Speak.” He was angry, you could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice. But he was making an effort to compose himself. “I’m listening.”

“I’m sorry,” You said, still trying to feel around for the response he wanted. “I didn’t think he’d tell you.”

“Oh, he didn’t,” He said. “I had to hear from about five different people that you had a problem. So tell me, birdie, what’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem.”

“Don’t lie.”

You didn’t know what he wanted you to say. You wanted to say the right thing.

“How was that appointment? The one he took you to.”

He was prompting you. He noticed you scrambling and was throwing you a line.

“It wasn’t great.”

“What happened?”

“It’s not going to work,” You said, directing your gaze to your fidgety hands. “They said there was a chance but…it’s small.”

He nodded, his expression was blank when you met his eyes again. “Anything else?”

You shook your head. “No. That’s it.”

“Why am I the last to know?”

“I didn’t intend it that way.”

He didn’t respond and he was still acting out of character. He was unusually calm, and he was fighting to be. His jaw was taught and his leg bounced restlessly. Not in a bored or impatient way—he seemed anxious, or annoyed maybe.

“Serena,” You started. “She quit, y’know?”

“I heard,” He said. “Any idea why?”

“No,” You lied. “I found out from Ray.”

He nodded, lips pursed. “Anything else?”

You shook your head. “No.”

“Come sit here for a minute.” He stood and waited for you to cross the room. He let you take his seat, crouching down in front of you before continuing. “I don’t have to tell you why I’m upset, do I?”

“No.”

“Okay, good. We can skip that part.”

You tensed when he rested his cold hands on your bare thighs. Not because you were afraid, but because you were unsure of what he would do next.

“It’s okay,” He reassured you, rubbing your thighs in a soothing manner as he continued. “I don’t care what’s going on, birdie, I’m the first to hear about these kinds of things. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Shouldn’t I be the first to hear this?”

“I didn’t think you’d understand.”

“You didn’t give me a chance to try.”

You felt guilty. You didn’t mean for things to blow so far out of proportion.

“I’m sorry,” He said. You were shocked. “I’ll find a way to make up for not being there.”

You thought he’d go about making it up to you by being there for you now. But you were sorely mistaken.

*

“A dog?”

“His name’s Tika. Do you like him?”

“…He’s adorable.”

“That’s not all.”

You smiled as he handed the teacup yorkie over to you. You turned in time to watch him open the door of your suite to reveal two faces you never thought you’d see again.

“Oh my god.”

“Hi! It’s been so long.”

“It’s only been a year or so, Pat.”

“I’m just making small talk, Barb.”

You were frozen in shock, you didn’t know what to say.

“It didn’t take anything to track these two down,” Elvis said, putting an arm around each of them. “Figured they could hang around a day or two. Until the end of filming. What d’you think, baby?”

“I can’t believe you girls came all this way,” It was the only thing you could manage to say.

“How could we pass this up?”

They hung on to your every word the entire weekend and did everything they could for you. You didn’t know what they were trying to prove. Were they desperate not to make a mistake in the hopes of going back to Graceland with you?

You hated the way they treated you, but you hadn’t had anyone to talk to outside of Elvis—whenever he could be bothered with you—since Andrea left. Barb and Pat reminded you of the person you used to be, and even more so that you weren’t her anymore. You could only tolerate them in small doses.

“You must get anything you want, huh?”

“Not exactly.”

“What else could she want?”

You asked them about their lives now and if they’d finished school. You asked anything that kept the conversation off of yourself. You had nothing to say, nothing to offer that they could relate to or understand. Whatever you did think to say didn’t sound good enough in your head so you didn’t bother saying it aloud.

That weekend was torturous. You didn’t see Elvis once within the final days of filming and you were otherwise subjected to spending time with the girls. You would rather have spent the nights alone with Tika and a bottle of red, listening to the news on the radio—in the hopes that something more terrifying was happening in the real world than what was happening in yours.

In that alternate version of life where time didn’t exist because it was always dark and you never got any sleep. Was there any rest for the wicked?

You were glad when you were rid of Pat and Barb and back at Graceland. Elvis wasn’t himself and you had enough sense to know why. You didn’t broach the subject at first—you would’ve been alright if it was never brought up or talked about again. You would’ve preferred it be buried somewhere deep and forgotten about.

“You haven’t gotten back up with Pat and Barb since we got back.”

“I don’t think we click like we used to.”

“They adore you.”

“…That’s the problem.”

You weren’t sure if you were capable of connecting with anyone anymore. You felt so detached and unreachable.

The only time you felt like yourself—or at least some version of yourself—was when you were with Elvis. There were times when it felt like you only existed for him. You came alive for him, otherwise you weren’t yourself. You weren’t anything.

Every thought, every action, every moment was for him. Yet, you hardly recognized him now.

It wasn’t that he was calmer, or that he had less of a temper. He was simply too distracted to put his all into you. He was so lost in his own affairs that he hardly noticed you slipping away again.

When you looked at him, you couldn’t tell where the person you knew ended and her creation began. She had tamed something in him that you never could. You thought it was admirable.

“I’ve decided,” You started as the two of you sat up reading late into the night. You had grown bored with your book long ago but continued to skim the pages until you worked up enough courage to speak. “That we should break up.”

You didn’t say it in a particularly convincing way. It wouldn’t have mattered if you did.

“Oh, yeah?” He asked, already dismissive. “Where’d you get that idea?”

“From myself,” You responded. “You don’t think so?”

He turned his head. “What the hell are you saying?”

You started to repeat yourself. “I think we should~”

“I heard you.”

“Then why’d you ask?”

“…I can’t tell if you’re serious.”

“I am.”

He closed the book in his hand—you did the same. He continued to stare at you, no doubt waiting for you to sprout another head.

“I thought you’d agree.”

“Why would I agree?”

“Because you can’t seem to get over her.”

“What?”

“It’s been weeks and you’re still moping about it.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

You sighed. “We can let this be easy, Elvis.”

“Let what be easy?”

“Separating.”

“You’re being real cute.”

You watched him carefully as he abandoned his book by his side and shifted his full attention to you.

“What do you want now?” He asked. “Something else I can’t do for you?”

“Don’t be cruel.”

“Don’t be coy.”

You shook your head. “I’m not trying to be.”

He sighed, aggravated.

“I’m trying to do what’s best for the both of us.”

“Separating isn’t what’s best for us. Not to mention that it’s not an option.”

“Of course it is.”

“In what world?”

You knew this conversation wouldn’t be an easy one to have. You had hoped his distance and constant distraction would be enough to make him go easy on you. You thought he’d let you go, not quietly, but you hadn’t expected so much of a fuss.

“I want you to be happy, E,” You said. “I don’t make you happy anymore.”

“Don’t tell me how I feel,” He said. “You can’t make up my mind for me or make decisions like this on your own.”

“You hardly notice me anymore,” You pointed out. “You don’t speak to me…you don’t touch me. It’s like I’m not even here. Ever since…”

“Ever since what?” His eyes hardened but his expression remained the same.

You froze under his gaze, had struck a nerve by even daring to bring her up?

His eyebrow quirked expectantly. “Get it out, honey. Ever since what?”

“I don’t know.” You retracted, reopening your book. “Forget it.”

“No, no, no.” He snatched the book and slammed it shut, throwing it to the side along with his. “You brought it up. Air it out, go ahead.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Whatever you’re thinkin.”

He was doing it again—showing restraint. You didn’t know what to do.

“Serena told me everything.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Why?”

“Because Serena doesn’t know everything.”

You fell silent, of course she didn’t. You were sure she only knew what she’d overheard the others saying.

“See?” He asked in the wake of your silence. “That’s why you shouldn’t speak on things you know nothing about.”

You should’ve responded in your own defense but you couldn’t think of anything to say that he wouldn’t twist into an insult.

“Here,” He said, handing your book to you. “Read your little book and forget about this.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

He sat the book in your lap when you refused to take it, returning to his own.

“Are you happy?” You asked.

“I’d be happier if this conversation was over,” He said without looking up. “I’m trying to be nice here, birdie. You’re pushing me.”

“Did she tell you to be nicer?” You asked. “Is that why you aren’t screaming in my face right now?”

“Do you want me to?”

“I want you to tell me that it’s me you want and not her.”

“If I wanted to be with her, I’d be with her.”

“Then why have you been acting like this?”

“I’m not actin any kind of way. You’re overthinking everything like you always fucking do. It’s always the same old tired bullshit with you.”

You fell silent. He looked at you after you did so, laughing shortly—at what, you didn’t know.

“You make me feel stupid.”

“You aren’t stupid, birdie, you just do stupid things.”

“Nice.”

“I’m tryna say it in the nicest way possible.”

“There’s no nice way to call a girl stupid.”

“I didn’t call you stupid. You said stupid, not me.”

You abandoned your book again and got out of bed with tears blurring your vision.

“Where are you going?” He asked.

“There are only so many places to go,” You said, blinking your tears away and slipping your house shoes on. “I’m going to check on Tika. I promise I won’t leave the premises.”

“You aren’t leaving here dressed like that.” He barely glanced up from his book. “If I wanted people to see you dressed for bed I’d invite them up.”

“I’ll get dressed.”

“No you won’t.”

“You can’t control me like this.”

“I’m not controlling you, I’m telling you to have a little fucking common sense.”

You huffed in aggravation and stormed into the bathroom—slamming the door shut behind yourself. You stayed there well into the night, despite Elvis’ many complaints.

“I’m not gonna tell you again,” He called through the door for the umpteenth time. “Come out of the goddamn bathroom. It’s been hours, you’ve made your point.”

You didn’t respond, watching the handle shake violently as he tried the locked door. You were afraid he’d end up knocking it down altogether.

“You know what?” He continued, exasperated. “Stay there if you want, I would rather you be in there than out here driving me up the goddamn wall.”

You didn’t move until you heard the bedroom door slam shut. Your legs were stiff from sitting on the floor too long. You didn’t leave the bathroom—you stood there waiting for him to return or to reveal that he hadn’t left at all.

When you were able to convince yourself that he was gone you left the bathroom. You were exhausted and sore, but you didn’t care. You had waited him out and it felt like a tiny victory.

You were asleep the second your head hit your pillow and you didn’t wake until the next day.

Elvis hadn’t woken you, which was strange.

You got dressed on your own, contemplating heavily on what to wear.

“What would Liz do?” You muttered to yourself as you picked from your carefully crafted wardrobe.

It felt nice getting ready on your own. You did what you wanted with your hair and makeup, keeping it simple for a change. By the time you were finished Elvis still hadn’t shown up—you were starting to think he never would.

Just as you had given up on waiting for him the bedroom door finally opened. You stood from the bed when he entered, smoothing your skirt nervously.

“Birdie,” He said, he didn’t sound upset.

“E…you didn’t wake me up.”

“I figured you’d be tired after your siege,” He chuckled as he said it but you still couldn’t tell if he was angry.

“I’m sorry.” You weren’t sure why you were apologizing, but it seemed necessary.

He waved dismissively. “You don’t have to be.”

“…Are you mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at ya, baby.”

He smiled, tapping your chin and making you meet his eyes.

“I got you something,” He said with a hint of excitement in his tone.

“Why?” You asked, making him laugh. “I’m serious.”

“Because…” He shrugged. “You deserve it.”

“Well, give it to me.”

He laughed, slipping his arms around your waist. “Maybe I wanna…tease you with it a little.”

You bit back a smile. “Is it that kind of thing?”

“Nah, it’s not that kinda thing.”

“Then what is it?”

He reached into his pocket, revealing a set of car keys. You looked at them but made no move to grab them.

“For you,” He said, taking your hand and placing the keys in your palm.

“A car,” You said, looking down at them.

“I thought about what you said~”

“You did?”

“You were right, you should be able to go wherever you want.”

Out of all the things you had said, he had picked that to respond to. He had chosen to get you a car rather than acknowledge that you wanted a divorce.

You didn’t want to leave him, you wanted him to beg you not to go. And perhaps it was never a baby you wanted but some kind of reassurance that he was yours more than he was anyone else’s.

“Ray’s gonna still go with you, of course,” He said. “But she’s all yours.”

“….Thank you,” You said. “I appreciate it.”

He laughed—you didn’t care why. “Should we take her on a test drive? You haven’t forgotten how to drive a stick have you?”

You tried to smile. He slipped his arms around your waist again, making you drop the keys and lean into his touch.

“Y’know, E,” You said as he kissed your neck. “You could try apologizing like a normal person for once.”

His lips froze against your skin before he pulled away and met your eyes. “What?”

You shrugged. “A simple ‘sorry’ would suffice. You can say ‘sorry’ can’t you?”

“Why say what’s implied?”

“That’s what normal people do.”

He chuckled shortly, glancing to the side—annoyed but willing to grapple.

“Why don’t you just accept the gift, like a normal person, so we can make up?”

“Make up for what?”

You held onto his biceps as he stepped back towards the bed. He kissed your neck again.

“Elvis.”

“What?”

“Don’t deflect.”

“Who’s deflecting? Can’t we screw like normal people and get over this bullshit argument you started?”

“I started?”

“Yeah.”

You pressed your palms against his chest but his actions persisted.

“You don’t want to apologize but you want it to be okay. How is that fair?”

“What’s fair anymore?” He pushed you onto the bed. “You run around getting your every way at my expense. Is that fair?”

“Don’t lie through your teeth like that.” You put your knee up in another futile attempt to keep some space between you. “Nothing ever happens at your expense.”

“Is that really what you think?” He grabbed your ankle and forced himself between your thighs.

“I’m not asking you to lasso the moon.” You squirmed beneath him as he pinned your wrist by your head. “I’m asking you to say you’re sorry.”

“Do you want me to get down on my knees for you?”

“No.”

“‘No.’”

“And you call me childish?”

“What’s the point of fighting if one of us doesn’t stoop down to the other’s level?”

“Why are you degrading me?”

“I’m not degrading you. I can show you what it feels like to be degraded.”

“Don’t.”

“Why? Afraid of what I’ll say?”

You laughed. “I already know what you’re gonna say.”

“Do you?” His smile began to fall and you could tell you were pushing his buttons now.

“Yeah, but you don’t want me to tell you,” You said. “Because you revel in the idea that you’re still a mystery to me. But really the only mystery still alive is how I’ve managed to shrink myself into this little box of a reality you’ve created for me. Everybody’s dying to know.”

“I hate you when you talk like that.” He moved to sit up, no longer interested in his pursuit. You wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his torso—keeping him in place.

“I don’t care if they ask, I won’t answer.” You held onto him even as he tried to push you away. “I can’t.”

He stopped struggling. “Why?”

You looked him in the eye. “Because I’m ashamed of myself for loving you.”

His jaw clenched and he finally pushed you away. “That’s exactly what I want to hear.”

You sat up in the bed and watched him straighten his clothes. “I didn’t say it to hurt your feelings.”

“What’d you say it for?”

“Because I want you to know that I’ve sacrificed my ego for you and you should do the same and apologize for having an affair. I’m not even asking you to apologize for all of them, just this one.”

“Birdie~”

“Apologize for pretending to have no idea what was happening when you trapped me in this sham of a marriage. Apologize—not with a car, or a bracelet—with fucking words.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Like I said before…Serena told me everything.”

“Serena doesn’t know anything.”

“She knew you were screwing Ann, she knew you never tried to call off the wedding, and she knew that if she didn’t leave you’d drive her out of her mind like every girl unlucky enough to get pulled in by your bullshit. I’d say she was onto something.”

“What do you want from me, huh?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you arranged the wedding? You made it seem like you were blindsided when really you knew all along.”

“We only had so many options—and we would’ve gotten married eventually.”

“You didn’t stop it because you knew I’d be stuck with you after. And now what? You blame me for every job that you hate because you’re ‘doing it all for me?’ Is that it?”

He looked at you with a blank and disinterested expression as he fidgeted with the rings on his fingers. You waited for him to respond—he was either on the verge of blowing up or shutting down. You couldn’t tell so you decided for yourself.

“Shut down if you want.” You stood from the bed.

“I’m sorry,” He said—the apology was hardly sincere. “Happy?”

“Elated.” You tried to walk away but he stood and grabbed your arm.

“Why are you so ashamed of loving me?” He sounded genuine when he asked, though a hard edge still lingered in his tone.

“Because you treat me like shit and everyone thinks that I don’t notice,” You said. “They think I’m an idiot and completely oblivious. They think that because of you.”

“What do I do besides jump through hoops to make sure you have everything you want?”

“…You’re right.”

“What?”

“You’re right, E.”

“Don’t fucking do that.”

“What?”

He sighed in frustration, tightening his grip on your arm. You don’t think he noticed.

You played up the oblivious tone in your voice. “I’m trying to say the right thing, baby. Don’t be mad.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“…I want you to get down on your knees for me.”

You pressed your lips together ever so slightly, suppressing a smile as you watched the wheels turning behind his eyes.

He surprised you by stepping in front of you and slowly sinking onto one knee, then the other. He was always full of surprises—but that moment had to take the cake. Perhaps there was still a bit of mystery behind his sapphire gaze.

He held onto your waist as he looked up at you. “Will you forget about this conversation?”

“What conversation?”

A smile cracked his stoic face, and he scoffed. “You’re insufferable.”

You ran your fingers through his hair. “Say you’re sorry.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Do you blame me?”

“I don’t blame you for anything.”

You bit the inside of your lip, contemplating. “I guess I believe you.”

His eyes threatened to roll. “I’m glad.”

“You might as well show me how sorry you are while you’re down there.”

“I thought you’d never mention it.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist and stood, throwing you onto the bed. You laughed in shock as he kissed your neck. You pushed his shoulders until he moved down between your legs again.

He bunched your skirt at your navel, removing your underwear in one swift motion. His mouth was on you instantly and you keened into his touch. You held out for as long as you could tolerate before rushing him along.

He tutted in disapproval. “When did you turn into such a greedy little thing?”

You set your pride aside and begged him to enter you. He could only deny you for long.

He couldn’t help himself anymore than you could.

He removed his shirt, impatiently murdering a few buttons on his quest to get inside of you. He fit you like a missing piece—connected with you from the inside in a way that no other person could.

You writhed beneath him, pressing your hands against his stomach.

He took hold of the bottom of your face and forced you to look him in the eye as he reached that spot that made your toes curl.

You whimpered wantonly as he pried your lips apart and breathed your humid breath. Your vision started to blur with tears and the pressure in the pit of your stomach built. You wrapped your legs around his waist, forcing him deeper as your orgasm neared.

Elvis groaned. “Don’t—fuck, I’m gonna come inside you.”

“I want you to.”

His hips stuttered and you felt the warmth of his release soon after. His voice cracked when he moaned—uncharacteristically so but in a way that made you smile and pull him closer.

You slipped a hand between his body and yours, finishing yourself off as he continued thrusting into you shallowly. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and shifted onto his side—still seated inside of you.

“I love you,” He heaved, kissing your neck.

“I love you,” You responded. “I love you too much.”

He sighed, seemingly satisfied. “You’re evil, making me come inside you like that.”

You laughed shortly, still in the fuzzy part of your post orgasmic haze. “You loved it.”

“You won’t leave me,” He muttered against your skin. “Promise you won’t leave.”

“How could I leave you? Everything that matters to me is with you.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

“Say it.”

“Everything that matters to me is with you.”

[quakenshake]

Prompt: Hold Me Tender

In which a sleepy Chishiya somehow finds his way to your room at the Beach after a particularly rough game…

It was unusual to find any quiet at the Beach. To do so, one must sacrifice something very important…sleep. Though you couldn’t quite count it as a sacrifice in your case, as it was entirely nonconsensual. Who knew that in a world plagued with death and betrayal, your biggest foe to date would be insomnia? It could almost be considered amusing, were it not for the fatigue that stung at your eyes and made your stomach feel uneasy. You didn’t have to look at the clock to tell that it was well past midnight, and you knew that with your visa expiring tomorrow, it was crucial to succumb to unconsciousness. If only your stupid brain would cooperate.

It wouldn’t take a genius to determine the cause for your unrest- your anxiety always seemed to spike to new highs when he left you to play a game. At first, you could find the odd excuse for your increased dread and lack of sleep; you’d eaten too much that night, or you’d gotten too much sleep the night before. Once, you managed to convince yourself that your heightened anxiety was caused by ghosts, malevalent entities wandering unseen throughout the hotel. What a night that’d been. But tonight, you could only sigh with the eventual acceptance that you were worried about him.

So far, you’d done a fairly good job at hiding your budding feelings for your mysterious…friend? Acquaintence? You still weren’t quite sure what to label it, especially now that your feelings were evolving again. But your discretion would only get you so far in this place, and you knew in your heart that the first person to figure them out would be the last one you wanted to know. He was clever that way, and just cruel enough to act on it.

“Why did it have to be you?” you found yourself murmuring aloud, the raspiness in your voice reflecting the weariness in your heart. Of the dozens of people residing at the Beach, you’d somehow managed to fall face-first into feelings for the one who was as likely to kill you as he was to even glance in your direction. It was a truth that you tried desperately to shove into the pits of your stomach, but it somehow burned its way out each time you allowed yourself to imagine, even for a second, that your feelings might be returned. He was colder than most people realized, and capable of betrayals that you’d rather not think about. You weren’t entirely convinced that he had emotions at all, so hoping for love felt as unobtainable as hoping to wake up tomorrow back in the real world.

Sighing once more, you shifted your position in bed for what must have been the millionth time that night. The air was hot and thick with humidity, but you found comfort in pulling the sheets up to cradle your face anyways. Besides, you’d long ago accepted that your insomnia had won its battle. What was a little more discomfort if it meant another distraction from him? At that thought, an abrupt but dull noise made you jerk your head in surprise. Turning your head to the door, you realized that it was a soft but persistent knocking.

You frowned at the realization, digging your hand under your pillow to pull out the letter-opener which you’d stashed weeks ago in precaution. Chishiya was not the only danger residing in these hallways. Slipping the blade into the pocket of some pajama shorts you’d smuggled, you took cautious steps toward the door. The knocking had since ceased, but the shadows peering from the crack at the bottom of the door were evidence of the person’s lingering presence. Hand still wrapped tightly around your weapon, you tentatively turned the doorknob and pulled it open just enough to peek through the opening.

In a kinder world, his presence may have been a sense of relief. But seeing Chishiya on the other side of the door, dark and tired eyes baring deeply into your own, you found your grip on the letter-opener tightening. You wished you could ignore the pull in your heart- the faint but throbbing glee at seeing him there, alive, before you. But feelings aside, you were still able to recognize him as the threat that he was. It was a moment before you found your words, instead watching him blankly for a few seconds more.

“Chishiya,” you whispered finally. Your eyebrows had furrowed, partly in confusion and partly in worry. “What are you doing here?”

He paused for a moment, and you could have sworn that you saw his eyes widen briefly. If they did, it was only for a split second. Instead, he gave you a slight tilt of his head in a strange greeting before lightly clearing his throat.

“Could I come in?” he asked. 

It didn’t escape you that he had evaded your question, but this was something that you found to be typical for the man. He wasn’t one to give away secrets easily, and for some strange reason, everything was a secret to him. You worried your lower lip between your teeth, considering his request. Sure, he had been in your room before, mostly to discuss strategies and tinker with the odd invention. But never before had he arrived so late, and never in such an odd state. 

Deciding eventually that it would be weird for him to kill you after being out so late in a game, you gave a small nod and opened the door wider. It didn’t seem lost on him that you’d been hesitant to accept his presence, and you knew from the slight uptick of his lips that this thought amused him. He had learned very quickly in your relationship that you didn’t fully trust him, and at times it seemed he admired you for it. And as you eyed the hands that he had stuffed, as usual, within his pockets, he pulled them out and waved them, empty, in the air. You relaxed slightly at the gesture, surprised he would even care to offer you that white flag.

“You?” he asked, eyeing your own pocket-stuffed hands. You cleared your throat awkwardly as you pulled them out, revealing the letter-opener for him to eye with an arched eyebrow. You gave him a glance as though to apologize, but he simply offered you a genuinely amused grin. “Smart,” he muttered, and it made your heart buzz. 

“Care to explain why you woke me up?” you said, forcing an accusatory tone to your voice. It rolled off of him like butter, and he blinked at you stupidly.

“You weren’t asleep,” he said simply. This time, it was your turn to arch a brow.

“Your eyes are too bright, and your voice too stable,” he offered. “I’ve seen you after you’ve just woken up, and this isn’t one of those times.”

Choosing not to entertain his usual cockiness, you decided instead to slump onto your bed, rubbing a shoulder and rolling your neck to relieve some tension.

“Okay, fine,” you said, giving him a glare to show your disapproval. Asleep or not, you were in no mood to be condescended. “Care to explain why you’ve bothered me while I’m trying to sleep?”

To your surprise, Chishiya once again hesitated before speaking. It was unlike him. Sure, he was a man of few words who liked to cherry-pick what he’d say before opening his mouth, but it was never due to hesitancy. If anything, his pauses were always timed to perfection to emphasize a point or increase tension. Now, it seemed…nervous. In fact, Chishiya overall seemed different from his usual self. Before, you had chocked his appearance up to his own fatigue. He must have just come back from his game, and you were sure that it had to have been a rough one given his late return. But now, you began to wonder if the crinkles beneath his eyes- the slight give in his stance- were due to something other than being tired. If you didn’t know better, you’d almost say that there was a pained look lying in the cracks of his cool expression.

Eventually the silence grew to an unbearable point of awkwardness, and you shifted slightly in your spot, increasing the amount of room beside you on the bed. Chishiya only stared at your movements as though unsure of what they meant. Giving a faint roll of your eyes, you patted next to you with one hand.

“Sit next to me?” you asked. It was a bold move, sure. And in a better-rested state, you’re sure it was one you’d have never made. But your mind was bogged with exhaustion, and your heart was too tired to put up a fight. So instead you waited patiently as the gears turned in his head to catch up with what you were asking of him. The moment realization hit him was painfully amusing and you cherished the look of surprise that overcame his features. To see him so defenseless…unmasked…it was a treat that made you almost thankful for your insomnia.

Wordlessly, Chishiya took careful steps before positioning himself beside you. His eyes were trained forward and away from your own in a deep focus, and for some reason it brought back the memory of when you’d found a snake in your garden as a child. ‘It’s more afraid of you than you are of it, you know!’ It had been difficult to believe your parents’ words then, but it resonated so clearly with you now.

“As much as I enjoy the silence, you know that you’ll have to tell me eventually, right?” you finally stated, words surprisingly gentle. You watched his eyes lower to the floor as he swallowed thickly. You wanted so dearly to be patient with him; it was in your nature to tend to wounded animals, and it was clear to you now that that was what he had come to you as. But this was different- he was unknown territory, even for you, and you were worried that if you didn’t seize this moment to explore this side of him, it would soon be gone forever. You were debating repeating your words or maybe even giving up altogether when he muttered something under his breath.

“What?” you asked him. His eyes were still glued to their place on your floor, body tense as though he were holding his breath.

“Can you…hold me?” he repeated louder this time.

You blinked at him once, twice, three times. Surely you’d misheard? Your breath was hitched in your throat, all thoughts suddenly abandoning your mind. Could this be a trick? Could he have really come to kill you, and this was just a strange way to make yourself vulnerable to him? Your heart raced as the possibilities flitted through your mind at lightning speeds, each one darker and more frightening. The whole thing was dizzying, and you wondered for a moment if you would ever recover. But, evil as he is, he decided to surprise you one last time that night.

“Please?” he asked. His eyes had swooped over to your own now, and the pleading look in them was enough to dispel each of your previous theories, one by one. Right now, it didn’t matter to you if it was a trick. Before you could even move to wrap your arms around him, your heart had decided it for you- right then, right there, your only goal was to cling to this moment. To cling to him- or at least this version of him that had somehow wound up at your door that night.

You found his body to still be stiff as you encompassed him with your own, but it began to relax with each passing breath. You hadn’t realized quite how tightly wound he’d been; from an outsider’s perspective, there had still been an ounce of composure to him. But now, you could feel how frail it all was. Not just him, but the him he wanted you and the rest of the world to see. With him in your arms, you realized now that it was all hanging by a thin string, dangling in the grasps of the Borderlands. With this realization, you held him a little tighter, nuzzling your face against his shoulder.

Your movements were deliberately slow, as you wanted to be sure he was comfortable. As new as you were to all of this, you knew that he had to have been even less experienced, and you didn’t want to overwhelm him. But as the moments passed on, you were both able to relax enough to lie down and fully embrace one another. Your cheeks warmed when he eventually chose to pull you even more tightly to him, seeming to finally accept your presence in full. You returned the gesture by drawing small circles into his back with your palm, earning you the softest of sighs into your ear.

No more words were spoken that night, which was fine by you. Any desire you’d had for an explanation before was now long gone, replaced by the sole intention to comfort him. You didn’t know what internal wounds he possessed, but you wanted to tend to as many as you could, and you knew that whatever this was would likely disappear with the morning light. Instead, you continued to hold him through the night, feeling his breathing deepen once he finally slipped into dreams. And for the first time in your life, you said a silent ‘thank you’ to the insomnia which had plagued you earlier before drifting into your own slumber.

I hope you guys enjoyed this as much as I did! I took a long break from writing due to strep throat, but I think this is a nice way to ease myself back in. I'd really love to keep working with Chishiya's character, so if anyone has any ideas for future prompts, let me know! <3

[anqelically-archived]

hello! If i may ask for a prombt,can you mabey do sigma with the comfort prombt 13 and 14?

home | sigma x gn!reader

word count: 0.7k

content: manga spoilers, comfort, my first time writing sigma so probably not the best thing in the world

navigation | bsd masterlist | event

pawns are disposable pieces once they’ve been played. there was no need to keep them around once they’d completed their role, so it was always best to sacrifice them and continue on.

sigma was the pawn in this case.

a pawn of one person handed to another, he continued to be used. it was when he fell into the hands of the demon fyodor that he knew that this would be his last run.

he was new to the world and what it had to offer, and that’s what made it easy to manipulate sigma. after he completes what he has to do, fyodor would have him killed. knowing that fact instilled fear into the casino man.

also knowing what fate awaited him made sigma lose his mind. constantly running in circles over it, he began to feel sick.

you didn’t know sigma for long, but he was easy for you to read. he came off as confident and composed, but you saw past that exterior once you used your ability.

your special ability allowed you to read the emotions of people you looked in the eye. although it could be awkward or unnerving to other people, you often used it.

you harbored no ill intent, but it always felt easier to communicate with someone you understood. with your ability, it became possible.

it was because you could read emotions that you managed to gain the trust of the man who ran the sky casino. you’ve always been a good talker, so the words you’ve said to sigma have always provided him some sort of comfort.

but with his association with the decay of the angel and the fact that you were just a civilian, there was almost no hope. sigma would be taken out and you’d have to move on with your life. that was the harsh truth.

you were done playing another game at the casino when you noticed sigma hadn’t visited you yet. you never asked him to, but the dual-haired man visited at least one of your games every day you were in the casino. but as the day wrapped up, you still haven’t seen him around.

you decided to visit him in his office, which he’s welcome you into before. the two armed guards standing outside recognized you but were reluctant to let you inside. with a couple of believable lies spilling from your lips, you were allowed in.

you opened the door silently, looking inside to see if anyone was inside. sigma, the only one there, sat at his desk. his hands gripped at his hair tightly, his shoulders slumped and head down. with the door clicking shut behind you, he jumped in his spot.

his head whipped up to you, and you could see the faint tears on his cheeks.

“sigma…” you murmured as you started to walk towards him.

he immediately swerved his chair around and attempted to fix his appearance, “you shouldn’t be in here, y/n.”

“i know that, but i couldn’t help myself after not being able to see you all day. i wanted to see if you were alright-“

once you arrived at his desk, you attempted to grab his shoulder. the manager flinched at your touch and you immediately took your hand back.

“you don’t have to be afraid,” you told him, “it’s just me. i’m not here to hurt you…”

sigma’s lips parted at your words. with your comforting hand on his shoulder, he found some courage to look at you. he’s been judged by many before, so it didn’t matter to add another.

but instead of saying anything harsh, you merely wiped the corners of his eyes, “it’s okay to cry, you know. i know i shouldn’t be here in the first place, but you don’t have to hide it from me.”

after you wiped his tears away, you took his cheeks and cupped them with your hands. new to this sort of affection, sigma stiffened. you were just a customer… so why? why must he feel this way?

he’s never had a home, and maybe he thought the casino could be it. but he was wrong, the casino was part of him. his home? well, sigma has found it in you.

he leaned into your hands, “thank you, y/n. thank you…”

note: thank you for requesting!! hopefully i’ve done sigma justice ;)

reblogs are appreciated!

[stardustprompts]

the empire of gold   (  the daevabad trilogy book 3 )  part 2  -   s. a. chakraborty change tenses/pronouns as needed !!  some lines have been edited for clarity / length / ease of roleplaying  /  part one found  here. tw ;  death , war ,  violence

‘you are an exceedingly frustrating person to talk to.’

‘she scared me, and I am not a woman who frightens easily.’

‘it’s supposed to be the mark of a wise leader, right? the willingness to make sacrifices for a greater good? but nobody ever asks those ‘sacrifices’ if they’re willing— they get no say in whether or not their kids die for some supposed greater good.’

‘we die, and we bleed, and it’s a debt that the powerful never repay. I don’t want to be part of that.’

‘I have made my loyalty clear.’

‘I find I can get a more accurate measure of a man when he’s not aware he’s being appraised.’

‘you have a very long way to go to earn my trust.’

‘i’m not tossing away (name’s) legacy. i’m completing it.’

‘it feels like you’re keeping all these secrets, like you still don’t trust me.’

‘oh, (name). what have you done?’

‘you court death with far too much persistence.’

‘I do not wish to leave. I am very content here with you.’

‘I want you dead and I want your city destroyed.’

‘the ___ do not deserve your loyalty. no one in the world does.’

‘they are poisoned. they are infected. and you are the disease.’

‘I need to go. there is no other way.’

‘I won’t lose you. not again.’

‘you and I are not the worst of our ancestors. they don’t own us. they don’t own our heritage.’

‘it’s a shame you hate politics. you’d be a very good queen.’

‘do you want me to stop?’

‘it’s like you’re in a competition with yourself over picking the worst time to say something.’

‘look me in the eye and tell me the truth. you promised no more lies.’

‘if saving ___ had meant likely killing me, would you have done it?’

‘so you plan to mock me as I bleed to death? that sounds like terrible bedside manner.’

‘don’t be stupid or reckless or proud. give her what she wants and come back to me.’

‘promise me. promise me you’ll come back.’

‘i’m not here to stop you. everything in my blood screams at me to, but I know I can’t.’

‘there is nothing I wouldn’t give for you.’

‘I am so sorry for the words I spoke before, but I won’t burden you with my regrets or my grief.’

‘I was starting to believe in you, in all these things you’ve been saying about a new ___ and equality for my people.’

‘you made me think it might be possible. that if I ever went home, it’d be as some kind of hero, and maybe all the other things I’ve done wouldn’t matter.’

‘i’m helping you. the right fucking thing to do and all that.’

‘there’s no helping me. i’m not getting out of this. all you’ll do is get yourself killed.’

‘I didn’t ask your permission. and I’m not doing this for you.’

‘(name) said you were coming in peace. the face you are making does not indicate peace.’

‘do you not understand? you have lost. save yourself and what is left of your people before their blood is on your hands.’

‘you’ve gone too far, and I’m trying to bring you back!’

‘you keep doing that. making that face like I’m an enemy you have to guard yourself against. i’m not.’

‘you’re not the only one whose had to pretend to be different. whose had to smile politely when people with power insult the parts of you that you never get to wear openly.’

‘I wish you had trusted me. but more than that, I wish I had behaved in a way that would have encouraged you to trust me.’

‘do you have to do that? sound all reasonable and kind?’

‘I have a lot of experience in loving frustrating people.’

‘if you make me cry, I’m going to stab you.’

‘we need to be able to trust each other if we’re going to fight back.’

‘it was the worst thing I’ve ever done in my life, and I didn’t blink an eye.’

‘I know how hard it is to think clearly when someone you love is in danger.’

‘I feared even thinking about the things that would make me happy would destroy them. and it does.’

‘we do not interfere. we seek to avert the greatest harm, to listen to the warnings of the heavens when it’s laws are about to be broken.’

‘you said your people had a proposal for me. so why don’t you state it? clearly, if that’s even possible for you.’

‘let’s not pretend you care about justice when it comes to the internecine squabbles of my people.’

‘please understand. i’ve lost everyone I’ve dared to love. I can’t lose you. not you.’

‘you’re not alone anymore. you don’t have to do this all by yourself!’

‘we can do this together. I don’t need you to save me!’

‘I am not a good man. I am a weapon.’

‘was any of it ever real between us?’

‘I hate you. I hate that I ever had feelings for you.’

‘I offered you mercy once, and you threw it in my face. don’t make that mistake again.’

‘i’m not looking for your mercy. i’m here to save our people.’

‘do you hear yourself? do you have any idea how naïve you sound?’

‘you think I had a choice? I had no one and nothing!’

‘I did not want this violence. it will haunt me to the end of my days, but I will be damned if it was for nothing.’

‘surrender. you cannot defeat her. it will be easier.’

‘oh, (name). you always did underestimate me.’

‘i’m sorry you and I didn’t grow up in a time of peace, where we could have lived happily together.’

‘I mourn, truly, the kind of relationship we could have had.’

(name) didn’t break me. you won’t either.’

(name) didn’t break me. you won’t either. I will never surrender to you.’

‘you have your mother’s/father’s spirit. it got her/him killed too.’

‘i’m not going to hurt you. I would never hurt you.’

‘you have hurt me. you left me.’

‘my entire life is a lie.’

‘you were all I wanted. I dreamed of seeing you again every night.’

‘I do not believe you. because I know you. and you are a liar. a thief.’

‘talk to me. tell me how to fix you.’

‘if you are looking for absolution, you won’t find it from me.’

‘I genuinely believe she wanted better for her people and her city. she just got very, very lost.’

‘I wish I had more time with her. I had so much I wanted to say.’

‘you may have to battle with words and with your very beliefs. but it it worth it. your life is worth it.’

‘your life is worth it. don’t let it be made into fodder for those who will never be in the trenches.’

‘you rip me apart. I was ready to kill you. and then you had to go and do the right thing.’

‘if I could go back … it breaks my heart to think of the different path we might have taken.’

‘you have earned your happy ending. let me do the same.’

‘you don’t get to make me laugh while you’re breaking my heart.’

‘find your happiness. steal it and do not ever let it go.’

‘I am sorry to be such a disappointment.’

‘you say you trust me. so trust me.’

[fattybattysblog]

Friend, Please (Chapter 12)

Fandom: Kirby/Kirby Right Back At Ya!

Gen | Teen

Characters: Meta Knight, Dark Meta Knight, Velka | Arcta Knight (OC)

Summary: They should be used to desperate people making horrible decisions by now, but somehow it always goes too far before anyone does anything about it. A person fell prey to the empty promises of dark, powerful hearts to become Arcta Knight. As they make their mark on Dreamland, Meta Knight grows anxious about the encroaching danger and leaves suddenly to prepare for a duel like no other.

AO3 | SqWA | Quotev

Tags: AU - Canon Divergence, Blood and Violence, Swordfighting, Original Villain Character, Gijinka Kirby Characters

@ocappreciationtag

(Cover art done by Dean, edited together by me)

Goodbyes

Meta Knight stood on the bridge of the Lor, his thoughts a tangled storm. He gazed out the large window into the vast, empty darkness of space, the stars glittering and the colorful dust of the galaxy swirling slowly. The silence of space was both a comfort and a reminder of the isolation they faced.

He had done all he could for the Halberd's repairs. There was no news, little progress on King Dedede and Kirby’s injuries. All he could do now was stay vigilant and wait.

The quiet was broken by hurried footsteps. Magolor raced up to the stoic knight, his eyes wide with urgency. He didn’t have the breath to speak and he didn’t need to.

Meta heard him approach and turned sharply, his cape billowing with the movement. "The headquarters? You found it?"

“I finally locked onto their signal,” he gestured for Meta to follow him back to the massive computer. Once there, he quickly brought up images of distant space on the monitor. “We were looking for a planet, but that was the wrong approach. It’s a space station. And, well… you’re not gonna like it.”

“What do you mean?”

Magolor’s ears drooped slightly as the screen revealed the space station and its surroundings. “It’s… surrounded,” he muttered, “and heavily guarded inside and out.”

Meta stood tense and silent, glaring at the screen. Destroyas, powerful starships built for destruction, littered the display. At the center sat the fortress itself. Even with everyone at their best, this would be a suicide mission. He couldn’t drag anyone else into this. Not again.

“We still have the Galactic Nova,” Magolor suggested.

“We can’t waste any time. Collecting the stars… we lost that chance when the Halberd was attacked,” Meta Knight replied, his tone firm.

“Th-then we’ll call in more allies. We can get Daroach and Gooey and Taranza! O-or Susie or Adeline—!”

“We already tried that, Magolor. We contacted everyone we could. No one else answered,” Meta Knight said, the solemnity in his voice causing Magolor to wilt. He typed and searched for something more that could be done. The more he looked, the smaller he made himself, unable to offer more.

Meta placed a hand on Magolor’s shoulder and shook his head.

“We’ll take care of it. Trust me,” he said in a softer tone than before.

“This is impossible, Meta Knight!” Magolor cried, whipping around to face him. His face was red with frustration as he grabbed Meta’s cape and pulled him down to his level. “I can trust you with every fiber of my being, but I can’t believe this will work! Two people can’t take down an entire fortress on their own.”

“Then collect the stars,” Meta said firmly. “We will keep their attention for as long as we live. And once we’re gone, you summon the Nova to wish for NME’s demise.”

“Don’t say that,” he hissed.

“You’d prefer we give up here?”

“We’re all escaping, right? Just come with us. Cappy Town can all make a new home in my dimension! Surely we can find some… parallel Popstar or something?”

Meta Knight’s eyes softened behind his mask. “It’s not that simple, Magolor. My world, my people… they need a fighting chance. And sometimes, sacrifices must be made.”

Magolor’s grip on Meta’s cape tightened. “Don’t you dare martyr yourself. Was this your plan the whole time? To just drag Dark out there with you to die?” Magolor’s frustration came to a head, his fists clenching on the cape until his gloves started to creak and shake. His ears were pinned back as flat as possible.

“Why would you tow us along if you were planning to kill yourself like this?!”

“This was not a light decision,” Meta gently pried Magolor’s fingers from his cape. “Last they saw, Kirby was defeated. If we go in alone, they will have no reason to hunt for you all. I know what I’m doing… I chose this path, my friend. And I will see it through to the end.”

A heavy silence fell between them, the gravity of the situation settling in. There was no talking him out of it, Magolor knew it was the best chance for Dreamland to be spared entirely with Meta Knight’s plan. There was no other way.

Magolor’s voice trembled as he spoke again. “Just… promise to try to live. They need you.”

Meta Knight nodded, a small but determined smile forming. “I promise.”

He turned and left, his cape fluttering behind him as he walked down the hall. It was time to separate from the pack. Meta’s hope of giving Kirby some parting words was slowly diminishing. This would be his last visit. Whether Kirby was awake or not, he’d have to bid him goodbye.

His walk to the infirmary was slower than ever before, lingering in the halls to postpone the inevitable farewell.

There was a small hum of conversation as he approached. Dark wasn’t one to make small talk, but Dedede was more than happy to listen to himself talk. After so long alone together Meta was honestly surprised they didn’t go at each other’s throats already. This hum was something else. Soft and patient chatter that was too low for him to make out until he reached the door.

Meta’s heart leaped in his chest at the sight. Dedede sat on the infirmary table, in his lap was the bright and wide eyed star child.

Kirby looked over at him and smiled brightly.

Meta had to fight the tears threatening to blind him, which left him unable to combat the burst of energy that made him scoop up Kirby and hug him close.

“You’re awake!” he cried, forcing himself to keep the hug loose so he didn’t hurt him.

“Meta Knight!” Kirby exclaimed in return, his small arms wrapping tightly around Meta’s neck.

Meta pulled back slightly to look at Kirby’s face, relief washing over him. “I didn’t think I’d get to see you awake again. I was so worried.”

Dark had resumed his demeanor, standing at the far wall with his arms folded as he leaned on the wall. He could pretend he wasn’t just as worried, but Meta and Dedede would know the truth and keep his secret. This time at least.

“He woke up a couple hours ago. We still gotta heal so we’re stickin’ around,” Dedede said as he stood and lightly stretched.

“I visited just in time then. This is actually…” Meta paused and cleared his throat. “Dark, meet me in the hall.”

Dark raised his head. He cocked a brow but said nothing, cape following him as he stepped outside.

“How are you feeling?” Meta asked.

“I’m fine! That monster was really strong,” Kirby said. He was as bubbly as ever. There wasn’t a hint of sadness dulling his bright eyes. Though he winced often at the many injuries scattered on him. “We hafta go get it!”

“Dedede dealt with it already. Don’t you worry,” Meta shook his head. Dedede chuckled and pumped a fist.

“It was no sweat,” he grinned. Kirby laughed and Meta looked aside. Fibbing aside, he was glad to see Dedede feeling better as well.

“Now you just have to get better, okay?” Meta returned his attention to his task at hand.

“But I’m fine,” Kirby pouted.

Meta Knight shook his head and set Kirby on the infirmary bed, earning a slighted look from Dedede. “You’re hurt. You need to rest.”

“But I can help!”

“No, I— It’s alright. Dark and I will take care of everything, okay?” Meta said, his voice softening.

Kirby’s pout deepened, but he nodded reluctantly. “Okay...”

Meta Knight took a deep breath, knowing this was his moment. He placed a hand on Kirby’s shoulder, his expression serious but tender. “Kirby, I need you to listen to me. You’ve always been the bravest, most capable little warrior I’ve known. But right now, the best way you can help is by getting better.”

Kirby’s brows furrowed and he folded his legs. “… really? But… what about NME?”

Meta struggled to keep his voice steady. “There are some battles that I must face without you. I need you to stay here, safe, and recover. Promise me you’ll do that.”

He searched Meta’s expressionless helmet. The eyes beyond were beginning to quiver. A small part of Kirby understood that this was important, but he couldn’t yet tell why. He nodded. “I promise.”

Meta Knight smiled, though it was tinged with sadness. King Dedede grimaced and stepped beside the bed. He searched the Knight for a moment before scratching at his neck.

“Am I hearin’ what I think I’m hearin’?” he asked in a somber voice. Meta night nodded slowly. Dedede nodded as well, gaze falling to the floor as he tightened his arms around his chest. The hold wasn’t enough to calm his fraying nerves.

All he had to say was a simple, “I see…”

“Remember, no matter what happens, you’re never alone. You have your friends and allies with you.”

With one last lingering glance, Meta Knight turned and walked towards the door, his heart heavy but resolute. As he reached the doorway, he paused and tensed his shoulders. “Goodbye, you two. Stay strong.”

Kirby watched as Meta left, a mix of emotions swirling within him. As the door closed, he muttered, “Bye...”

Dedede watched him go, breathing a soft, “be safe.”

(Previous Chapter) | (Next Chapter)

[ryaiga]

WIP- Price x Reader (x Ghost maybe?)

Yes i know there isn’t a title to this, but wanted to see how others think about it. Here’s a small snippet from the first chapter, kinda aiming for 5k words minimum so it’ll take a bit of time till I feel satisfied with the first chapter. Not to mention college started. A/N: (N/N) Nickname, spacers/dividers by @mmadeinheavenn and @imlevis , not my Gif, found it on google.

Laswell had informed him of the prestigious yet silent soldier that was being considered for his team. He’d lost a recruit in an earlier deployment, one he took to heart. Like many from the past, another scar added, that lay permanent by his chest and the haunting that left him shaking and restless at night, another one failed by his very leadership. Making even the unshakeable captain wake in cold sweats and trembling and to his vices in the attempts to be grounded to earth once more. So to hear that he was getting a new member, that was asl or more skilled than the one before, meant that the military was willing to sacrifice yet another valuable asset if it meant that his team was complete from every angle. A well trained sniper, hardy in hand to hand, a versatile team player yet nothing more than your skills were known. Similar to his lieutenant, You were an enigma. Not even a drop of ink was placed about your past and how you came about the military. Your file had a picture, a battle hardened soldier who completed every mission with ease and precision of high caliber, but no other name besides (N/N). You hadn’t been rewarded with a callsign, no one knew enough about you to even give a title to your talents, unlike Soap or Ghost. Price read up on your previous missions, but to his disappointment (or amazement), every debrief on the details stated that no one saw how you executed. It was always done and over with by the time the rest came to you, and it happens within mere seconds. A regal display of crimson red, a mural of your skill assets that leaves even your lieutenant in fear of ever being your enemy. However, No one was ready for what was to come. For you’d gain a title like no other, a prestige as high as the greatest artist known to man, the difference being that it came not from art. But from your ungodly fits to kill and survive, a display left out to strike fear in any person who wronged you.

Price and his team sat in the helo, adrenaline slowly creeping along their nerves as they awaited for the pilot's call to jump. “Hope we get there in time, wouldn't it be good if we found ‘em KIA. Laswell seemed rather fond of the enigma.” Ghost briefly spoke, an utter breath that Price barely caught. Nodding in response, Price wanted to see what you were. How you handled the predicament you were in, knowing full well if it was one of his men, that they wouldn’t even think of breaking. Could he blame you? Not even your company had knowledge that you were against a group of skilled mercenaries guising as cartels selling American weapons on middle eastern soil. He’d seen what they’ve done to the soldiers before you, they never made it home and if they did, it was a closed casket ceremony. Needless to say you were in desperate need of saving if you even want to think of coming out alive. Ghost reminds the rest that they aren’t to hope too highly of your chances, another tag and body bag might be amongst them on their return. A slim chance that you’d even be crawling out that hellscape. It was a bad omen that Price hated, he didn’t like the thought of a rescue being a failed attempt before it even began. Before he could even try to save the person. The helo landed miles away from the building, too many for the team’s liking. It meant time was wasted traversing the dunes, and time was not on their side.

Sorry for any grammatical errors, it’s my first fanfic ;v;  Any feed back is welcomed!

[randomsebs]

yeah it’s definitely strange to see the cult-like behavior towards who he “dates.” suddenly posting her, adding her to their bio, complimenting her looks and projects, defending her as if she’s now a member of their family. these women do not know you! even seb would find it a bit offputting.

it’s extreme to constantly parasocially insist “he’s so happy” “she’s amazing” “they’re going to get married” when plenty of people (in real relationships) can choose the wrong person and present themselves smiling to the world, while not actually thriving — aka like half the couples on social media and the serial dater friends we all worry about.

what i find particularly annoying is using any hate against her as ammunition against the belief of PR existing. it’s really strange how they refuse to acknowledge that every celeb does PR, and that we’re only seeing what he wants us to see. in the year 2024 you’d think they’d open their eyes to how everything isn’t fairytales and honesty. he’s an actor who acts even when the camera isn’t rolling, are we so shocked? they don’t want to believe that he would ever need that, but only a decade ago he almost went bankrupt and his career has survived two recessions. he barely got his recent low budget movies made! he’ll do almost whatever it takes to stay in this industry, they underestimate that. tbh we’re on the better side of it here bc we can actually appreciate that he made this sacrifice in the first place. to ignore how he isn’t himself around her or when he looks sad is just irresponsible as a fan, if you treated him as a human you’d see the reality and have spare some sympathy instead of blind applause.

I know. People assume I just don’t like her because she’s with Sebastian? I am a big fan of sebs do not get me wrong, but I have also done MY research.

People just ignore the things she’s done for NO reason. How come they didn’t ignore ale? Didn’t ignore Ellie? And not to mention they hated Margo for NO reason too. They hated his good exes, they hated his bad exes. I do not support ale or Ellie because of the things they’ve done too, don’t get me wrong, but to ignore Annabelle’s problematic issues it’s disgusting and wrong. Not to mention - sending me death threats, doxxing threats (only threats, no actual leaks but I’m still weary), body shaming me, insulting me, calling me “ugly” when you don’t even know what I look like, etc… all because I do not like her?

They also claim: “You’re just mad he won’t fuck you”. NO SHIT HE WONT?! Im in a HEALTHY, HAPPY relationship, I have my OWN life behind my comfort celebrity? Yeah, hear that? He’s my COMFORT celebrity. I like him for being himself.

When he’s with Annabelle, he isn’t. People post “happy” pictures of them to spite others with a different opinion than they have. 1. In Rome it was a very clear pap walk, when she found out he was spotted she had to release more photos of them in Rome just so people wouldn’t forget about her. When Seb is spotted in LA, it’s not because he “lives” there for her (I’m sure he has a place in LA and NYC for work and stuff) but to move there for her? I don’t think so. They’re not close enough to even live with each other, which is very clear. When he is seen with her dogs, it’s baiting. Anytime they’re “accidentally papped” is not accidental, it’s so she can get recognition from HIM and his fan base.

This worshipping shit needs to stop, honestly. If another celebrity did this (stalking, lying about what she supports for a good view, posting perverted stuff in the past, posting random plus-sized people and making fun of them in the caption, and making fun of a plus-sized man of a different color), they’d get bashed (as they should), or if any of his exes did this, the whole fandom would raid their comments. Why are we being hypocritical here? You’d all find any dirt on any of his exes except NOW this “girlfriend” is “humble”… no she isn’t. If she was humble she wouldn’t have to try so hard to get recognized from her own boyfriend’s fame instead. If she was humble, don’t you think she wouldn’t waste all her money on expensive designer, lots of fillers, tons of surgeries, Botox, etc?? I’m not saying she can’t use her money like that, but to be called humble when she literally baits her co-worker/PR boyfriend whenever she gets the chance? I mean she also stalks her “boyfriend”’s fans just to make sure she’s also receiving attention. Isn’t that creepy? No. Everyone takes it as: “Annabelle supports us, she knows we exist!” Yeah, she knows you’re buying into the PR so much, she knows that you’re all connecting her to every little movement or outfit Seb wears, she KNOWS she’s getting attention from his fandom. It’s way too out of hand.

Wonder why Seb is different? All the hate and Annabelle. Annabelle isn’t the type of person I’d hang around, speaking that I’m friends with someone like her in the first place, it’s very toxic and it’s the polar opposite from Seb. Haven’t you ever noticed that she changes her entire personality with every single relationship she gets into?? What’s next? It’s saddening. She looked more in love with Chris pine then Seb, but she was well aware that she wasn’t receiving a good amount of attention from Pine’s fans, she knew about Seb way before they even gotten together. She followed him before they began this contract too, when they “started dating” she literally unfollowed him. She follows some of his fan accounts, stalks them, what not, just so she can also be making sure she’s the center of attention as always. She knew if Seb got bigger than how he was when she aimed to him, that she’d be receiving the best amount of attention.

I’m not being “biased” because I like Seb? It’s just because I do not like her, that’s my opinion and it’s because I do not support what she does in general.

It’s clear they have no chemistry whatsoever, but fans ignore it. I honestly believe someone HAS to be hired at this point, there’s no way that they’ll all of a sudden switch up like this when there’s plenty of proof on her own profile if you scroll down.

The thing is, she never apologized for anything she done. She repeats it again because she knows no one will care about it, she does not care what type of attention she gets. She doesn’t care if she gets hate, love, she just likes to be talked about.

This situation is concerning. It’s almost as if they want him to see this drama, like: “Seb look at what we’re doing!! Defending your PR girlfriend”. I don’t think he’ll come back to posting because of what you guys are doing, you know that right? If you observed Seb with her, you’d see crystal clear that they’re both annoyed with each other or that he just looks miserable/uncomfortable.

[ohwynne]

TIMING: Current. PARTIES: Wynne & Cass' letter SUMMARY: A letter is read. WARNINGS: Emotional manipulation, sibling death (past)

The letter was read in one go, eyes focused even though their vision blurred with tears. It was a letter from another world, from a universe where Cass had left the town barriers and gone somewhere beyond, rather than leaving through that definitive way called death. 

Wynne,

Out of everyone, I feel like maybe you’ll be the one who gets it the most. Maybe not entirely, but at least a little bit, right? I don’t know if you or Ariadne will get your letter first. If she did, she’s probably already told you. If she didn’t, I guess I’ll be the one to break the news: I’m leaving. Or… left, I guess, by the time you’re reading this.

I didn’t want to do it this way, you know? I wanted… a world where both of my families could exist together. Where we could have, like, family dinners and stuff. All of us. You, Ariadne, Metzli, Leila, Nora, Van, my dad… But things don’t always work out the way we want them to, I guess. Family is complicated, right?

I’m sorry for what I said to you in the cave that day. I know you were just trying to help. Maybe you weren’t entirely wrong about my dad. He’s intense sometimes, I get that. But he’s still my dad. He still loves me. I know he loves me. He’s just been through a lot. He’s lost a lot, and he’s scared of losing more. People do bad things when they’re scared sometimes, you know? That doesn’t make them bad people.

I was scared, too, when you came to the cave. I was scared that you’d hate me, or that Aria did. I was scared that my dad would leave, and that you’d all forget about me, anyway. And I said really mean things to you because of it, and that sucked. That really sucked of me. I wish I hadn’t done it. None of it was true, you know? You have a family. I know you do. Maybe they’re not the same people who raised you, but that doesn’t matter. Family is family, and you have a good one here. You deserve a good one here.

I wish I could say we’ll see each other again someday. I wish I could know that we will. I want to, you know? I want this whole thing to just… be a couple of months somewhere else, and then back here. Back home. But it’s one of those things that takes as long as it takes, right? I need my dad to get better, so he can belong here. So we both can. And if that takes a few months, that’ll be good. I can come back, and I can make it up to you in person. But if it takes a lot longer than that… I don’t know.

I’m glad I got to know you either way. I’m glad that you’re my friend, even if I wasn’t a very good one to you. I’m glad you and Ariadne found each other. I think you two are meant to be in, like, the hardcore, Cyclops-and-Jean-Grey, written-in-the-stars cosmic way. And I think that’s great. I think you both deserve that. A lot. 

I’m really sorry, Wynne. For everything. If I don’t see you again… take care of each other. Okay? And take care of yourself, too. You’re worth it. You’re worth everything.

Love, Cass

It had been two and a half months since Wynne and Cass last spoke. Since they both delivered those cold, harsh words that had created a rapture in their friendship that they hadn’t attempted to mend. Something had shattered then. Those words – just because your family didn’t care about you doesn’t mean mine doesn’t care about me – had made them turn away and they had never turned back.

Cass was right. Fear made people horrible creatures. It made them sacrifice their children. It made them clutch their daughter’s shoulders tightly and manipulate them. It had made them not go back to that cave, where magma shone and Cass was cruel to them. It had made them scared to try again to make her see what they thought they saw — that her father was no good, that even if he loved her and cared about her, he could still be bad. But Wynne hadn’t gone and Cass hadn’t come and between them was that rupture of mutual insult.

And now Cass was dead and Wynne was holding a letter of apology and there was no possible way to accept it. No way to say sorry back. No way to embrace her and be embraced and just try to get back to their previous ways, of Cass introducing them to her large catalog of favorite movies and Wynne blinking with anticipation. There was no way — 

It still seemed there was no way she was dead.

They had seen people die. Perhaps too many for their short life, especially considering the cruel ways in which they had died. But it seemed a pattern, that the deaths of those that mattered most to Wynne happened when they had turned their back. First, their brother. Now, Cass. They cursed others to be the messengers of their deaths and sat with their disbelief and denial like something ungrateful and immature. Weren’t they supposed to know better about death, by now? It came. Without rhyme or reason, without mercy, without good timing. It came outside of rituals and old age. It came sudden, like this.

But some things could be prevented. What-ifs poured down their mind. What if they had taken their brother with them. What if they had come back to the cave, swallowing their own hurt and prioritizing the thing that they had seen unfold in front of them, with Cass and their father? What if they had taken Nora back sooner? What if — 

It was a level of delusion not yet shed. Wynne had been brought up to believe they were a savior of some sort. That their life (or the end of it) could have a positive effect on the livelihood of others. And now Cass was dead, and the last time they had seen her, they had let their pain take front stage and they had given up. So of course there was blame now, dark and dreadful, swirling in the deepest, unchanged depths of them.

Wynne locked their phone. The letters ceased to dance in front of their eyes. Grief was waiting for them around a corner but not yet there, not fully. It was the what if, they thought of still. That alternative world where Cass had written this letter and was still breathing as they read it. That alternative world where Cass had stepped outside of the cave without her father, just for a moment. That alternative world where apologies were said out loud. Where Ariadne did not look shell-shocked. Where Van and Nora were not given more grief to grapple with. Where Cass was still alive. 

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

HEEEEYYY Can i also please request ANGST with Wolfram x reader with reader escaping in route with snake and bard and ‘sieglinde’

Reader tag teams Wolfram with the help of Bard, and before he attacks snake/‘siggy’ he and reader share a little dialogue mid fight (where it also seems like he’s going easy on reader… for some romantic reasons Mayhaps?) and reader speaks little German but just yells like “How could you?!” “She’s just a child!” “You crippled a little girl!”

Then maybe after his sacrifice he and reader slowly start to grow close again? MANY THANK.

MANY THANK TO YOU

when you're crying over this, remember: YOU MADE ME WRITE IT WITH MY OWN TWO HANDS

Your part in the plan to get Sieglinde to safety is because you care deeply about her, of course.

But it’s also because you don’t think WOLFRAM has the guts to point a gun at your head.

For some reason you have yet to fathom, the two of you started to bond while you and your master and friends have been here in Germany. As grumpy and rigid as he seemed, you thought there was something kind lurking under that. You wonder if he fooled you, too, with the way he showed you little glimpses of something like that.

Regardless, you’re sure he’d be fine being on even footing with just Bard. No qualms about shooting, swinging, punching, at him. At you, though? Everyone else has seen the way Wolfram looks at you. The quiet, borderline romantic moments you’ve shared.

There’s no way he could shoot at you without being indecisive, and that is exactly what this situation needs. The more you can distract him, the more times he hesitates to make a move, the more chance you have of getting Sieglinde out of this forest alive.

You’re not as comfortable with a gun in your hand as Bard is. The unfortunate truth is that the effect of this goes both ways; it’s difficult for you to aim your weapon at Wolfram. Even though you have this gun, you’re hoping to serve as a diversion more than anything. When all is said and done, as angry as you are with him, you don’t want him dead.

It wasn’t so long ago that you remember how he looked at you when you were laughing at something, as if suddenly it was the first time he’d ever heard a person laugh. Or when you woke up to him carrying you back to your bed, because you’d fallen asleep after reading to Sieglinde one night.

Your brain knows that you should be ruthless if you want to avoid the risk that he won’t let you leave with Sieglinde. Your heart, unfortunately, is very, very stupid, and still cares as deeply about this man as it does about her.

All you have to do is run and fire warning shots, enough to keep Wolfram’s attention so that Bard can set up something he thinks will stop this soldier. You’re more terrified than you’ve ever been in your life… and yet, your anger at his role in Sieglinde’s imprisonment carries you.

What was he thinking? Doesn’t he care about her? He must. He doesn’t treat her like some thing, he treats her gently.

So why? The lack of an answer gnaws at you more than anything.

This is not some emotionless warrior who wants to keep her locked away forever. What you know happened is at odds with what you’ve seen while you’ve stayed here.

You just don’t understand. Wolfram as a person embodies the concept of sweetness in simplicity. Has he just been pretending? Is he really some kind of… cold-hearted mastermind?

The explosion of Bard’s making snaps you out of your thoughts, and you think there’s no way that Wolfram could get up completely fine from it. Your gun falls from shaking hands, your heart violently hoping that he’ll stay down. Hoping that all of this is going to be over.

(You just pray he isn’t dead.)

When he emerges from the smoke with only a few scratches and singes, you can scarcely believe it. Your hands refuse to pick your gun back up, and instead you watch him tangle with your friend for what feels like an eternity.

It’s as if your whole world is spinning out of control. You thought you’d finally found someone who you might want to share your life with, someone kind who felt the same, then… he has his own secrets that have come to light, something you never could have expected. You feel betrayed for yourself, and you feel betrayed for Sieglinde who you’ve begun to view as a daughter.

And to make it worse, as betrayed as you feel, there is no part of you that wishes Wolfram to die. In fact, a very large part of you clings to the hope that he’ll repent, he’ll do something to be a better person, he’ll… turn into some fairytale prince.

You hate that your mind is even giving you the possibility of things working out. This is real life, not a story. The fact that you want a happy ending doesn’t make a difference to what’s actually going to happen.

What’s real anymore, anyway? Were his feelings real? Anything he said to you? Was the way he looked at you and said he could see “so many colors” real?

In the blink of an eye, Wolfram has broken away from his battle with Bard, and you have precious few seconds to keep him from going anywhere. The more time you can give everyone, the better. You don’t know what you intend to do without your gun, but you rush forward to stop him anyway.

Your bare hands clash against his shoulders, your whole self trying to hold him back. He can’t do anything to you. The way his eyes flash at you in surprise spell it out for you if there was any doubt: unlike Bard, you are someone Wolfram isn’t willing to hurt.

Too bad you’ve already done that by lying to me.

“How could you?!” Your voice comes out shrill, too high, and you realize it’s because you’ve started to cry. This whole situation has become too much. Although you’ve been learning German from being here, you don’t know how to accurately express every bit of your rage and pain without doing it in your native language.

It’s awful and raw and you hate it. Obviously you didn’t get a chance to really talk with Wolfram about anything, so it all comes out in the way that a pot boils over.

Much as you push against him, you know you’re getting nowhere. He’s solid muscle, too strong for you to make a dent in keeping him in place. Still he struggles against you, as if your force is doing anything.

He acts as if you’ve stabbed him when you start to pound at his chest and shoulders. His eyes widen, reflecting the betrayal that you’ve been feeling this whole time. “You helped them cripple her and keep her here!” you continue to shout, your soul leaching out into every word. “She’s just a little girl! How could you?! How could you?!”

That seems to be all you can say.

You need him to tell you. You need this all to make sense, because it doesn’t.

You’re not sure where exactly you fail, but all you know is that you do.

He gets by you, he discovers that you’ve tricked him too, and the rest of your plan goes off without a hitch.

Right up until Wolfram ends up getting shot.

You don’t know if it’s better or worse that it isn’t you who shot him. It comes right after he’s started to beg Sieglinde’s forgiveness, and whatever else is true, you don’t want to lose him.

The last thing you do, before Sebastian drags him under Ciel’s order onto the train, is to scream Wolfram’s name and collapse at his side.

Life proves, once again, that it is no fairytale.

The train ride is long and torturous. You’re not sure when you stop crying, only that after several moments, Sebastian escorts you away from Wolfram and Sieglinde so you can calm down.

You don’t really calm down, though. Not until you’re well settled into your lodgings for the night. That comes with the added benefit that a doctor has looked at Wolfram, courtesy of your host Diedrich.

He’s going to be fine, most likely, and Sieglinde was taken in to speak to him. You’ve been nervous to do so; after all, you remember saying and thinking some terrible things to him. Even though his role in what happened to Sieglinde can’t be erased, there’s no denying that he loves her.

He knows what he did was wrong. He was willing to die just so that she would know the truth. If you think of her as your daughter, she was his first.

You slip into the room quietly, lowering yourself down onto the bed. You think your heart is much less stupid than before… at least, not stupid for caring about him. All of this is so complicated, and you can’t just call him a bad man when it seems he’s as much a victim of his superiors as Sieglinde.

“I don’t know,” you muse, reaching to run a hand through his hair, “a scar or two would suit you. But I’m also glad you’re probably going to escape without any.”

A puff of air is blown through his nose, that strikes you as the closest to a laugh he can muster up right now. He mutters something in German that you don’t quite catch before switching to English. “Scars are ugly. Would suit me very nice.”

… God, that’s not what you meant at all. This poor man. “No, scars aren’t ugly. And neither are you. Not inside nor out. What you did was very brave. Thank you for making sure our girl knew the truth.”

Your hand traces down from his hair to gently cup his cheek. “I’m sorry that I didn’t understand.”

“No… you understood. Not all, maybe, but you understood.” He shakes his head, though his expression clearly shows he’s melting into your touch. “I’m sorry. For lies, and… everything. Hurting you and Sieglinde… makes me very bad. It was the thing I never wanted to do, but… I did it.”

You lean over, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “… You’re not a bad person, Wolfram. You made a mistake, you did bad things, but you are not a bad person. You know it was wrong, and you’ve apologized, and you’re going to try to do better. Aren’t you?”

He looks almost like that kiss hurt him. As if it was something so new, so pleasant, that it was actually painful. “Ja. Better. Old Wolfram was shot and died. From now, I will be someone different.”

“Well, not entirely different, no?” You reach to set your hand, lightly, atop the injury on his wrist. “The old Wolfram was the one I fell for, after all. Maybe just be a better version of yourself than someone different.”

His face colors, a light pink dusting over his cheeks. “(Name)… you still want… me?”

Your fingers twine carefully around his. “Yes. I still want you. And we’ll figure everything else out, as long as… as long as you want me, too.”

“Bitte.” His hand squeezes yours. “More than I have wanted anything.”

Maybe life isn’t a fairytale.

But somehow, you think you might get a happily ever after anyway.

[betterthan777]

=> Beginning of The End [Pt.2]

>[Pt.1]

Dirk is gracious enough to let you sit across the room, at the vanity instead of on the bed with twisted sheets and discarded clothing. He’s even gracious enough to get you a bottle of water from your mini-fridge, something he has no trouble finding despite its location beneath a desk that was currently covered with various draped shirts and jackets. He’d been in your room before, at some point.

Or, and this was the worse option, he’d been looking over your memory archives.

The cold water feels like heaven down your throat and you hold it on your tongue while you wait for him to speak.

You recognized the attire. It’s the same suit that the upper echelon of Skaianet wore, especially when they were deciding on important or pertinent matters that required Admin permissions. Was Dirk an Admin of Skaianet? It’d hardly surprise you if he were. The only thing that really bothers you about Dirk is the fact that you’ve been so alone since you got here, and here he was– living it up on the Skaianet compound, dressed sharply and existing in the lap of luxury while you fought tooth and nail to drag Las Vegas from the brink of extinction.

You try not to get retroactively angry at the injustice of it all while you sip your water and wait for Dirk to start talking. He takes his sweet time, examining your various collectables as he lopes around the room before coming to a stop at the display case with your final remaining Flourite Octet. He moves his free hand without hesitation to unlock and open the display case. You instinctively flinch and half-raise to your feet before the coldness of his snap-headed glare seats you right back down.

It feels like every part of you is raw and being ground with salt as he opens the case, retrieves the octet, and begins to turn it about while examining it. 

“Didn’t you have more of these?”

“Yes.” 

“What happened to them?”

You shrug. He doesn’t like that answer and he continues to stare at you until you cede a longer one. 

“Some bitch stole them, I detonated them. I didn’t want them getting sold or traded around. My guards eventually found her, stumped and screaming, and brought her to my office so I could personally watch her bleed out on my carpet."

You pause, stomach twisting at your own actions. Have you really gotten so comfortable as to forget your ruthlessness? You roll the memory around on your tongue before adding in a final-

"For taking things from me.”

Dirk just gives a single upward nod, continuing to hold the octet by its two ends and twist it around like he was puzzling out its secrets. There’s a very deep and intense want to sacrifice the last thing you had of your previous life, to detonate the final octet and watch as Dirk’s flesh peels back and his bones shatter. He was touching your shit. The older versions of yourself would have done it already.

The current version of yourself is too afraid to.

“...seriously, why the FUCK are you here?” You snap.

He doesn’t like that. His hand closes around the octet and he turns to face you, his movements stiff and robotic and undeniably pissed off. He takes several steps to narrow the space between the two of you before he comes to a stop roughly four or five feet ahead of you. He was tall, well over 6-ft. You wonder if he’s always been so tall or if Skaianet had augmented him. You don’t have time to chase that rabbit before he starts speaking again.

“We have a mission for you.”

‘We’ being who? You don’t ask, you just nod.

“We’ve located another entity using your memory and genetic signature with origins in this Universe. She is armed and dangerous. We need her eradicated.”

That was… a lot of information in so few words. You sit there, stunned, blinking, trying to understand the implications of this. You’d been told that there were universal sanity checks, that only one person per memory signature could have consciousness at a time. It made sense to you before, the rules of The Game were so convoluted and crazy that you hadn’t for a second considered the fact that Skaianet was making something arbitrary up. Of fucking course there could be multiple versions of you roaming around. You briefly wonder how many Dirks there are before his voice interrupts your thoughts and you jolt back to your body.

“If you refuse, we will terminate your archive.”

You palpably feel your heart skip a beat.

“...meaning….?”

Dirk closes the space between the both of you faster than your eyes can register, flash stepping in and gripping the arms of your chair with such intensity that you hear the laminated wood creak under his fingers. His face is so close to yours that you feel the heat of your own breath swirling back at you in the final exhale before you hold it. He doesn’t scare you. Death doesn’t scare you. Still, your body reacts, and still, you hold your breath.

Despite his words, the following delivery of them is cold and calm to the point of discomfort.

“If you don’t destroy her, you’re done. We won’t revive you. Every fragment of what makes you you will be deleted, shredded, and purged from Skaianet’s systems. It’ll be like you never made it out of the game. We will fucking erase you, do you understand?” 

He sounds more like he’s explaining to a child why they’re in time-out than threatening to kill you. 

You swallow against the fake, pungent taste of grating minty toothpaste clinging to the back of your tongue before your face splits in a smile and you can’t help but laugh. Dirk doesn’t like that. He doesn’t do anything about it, though, he stays right where he was to keep you pinned in the chair. You fold your legs, intentionally brushing your shin against the inside of his knee in a flirtatious gesture you’re both intimately aware of being a farce. 

“Fuck, really? Haven’t I done enough for Skaianet already? I mean, who keeps the supply of guns and materials coming your way?” You grin, sharp-toothed. You can see yourself in the reflection of Dirk’s shades. You have an extremely punchable face and it fills you with a sense of pride, especially given the circumstances.

There’s another long pause. You feel your voice itching at the back of your throat, feel the muscles in your grin spasm slightly as you think too much about how to hold it in place. Dirk just looms, silently, so close you can’t breathe and bears his weight down on the arms of the chair you were now glued into. You know he wants you to speak first, to walk back what you said, and you silently refuse.

After what feels like minutes, he finally speaks.

“We’re aware of your loyalty to us.”

It’s said flatly, without much intonation in any direction. What the fuck did that mean? So he has been looking through your memory archives. He knew, then, that you were amassing your own army. That you were withholding strategic resources from Skaianet not just to bolster L8dy’s Country, like you were allowed to be doing, but to work on conjuring a brutal force strong enough to keep Skaianet away. Getting together soldiers to prep for a war you weren’t even sure you wanted to start.

“...then why are you doing this to me?” You ask in a feign of innocence that feels far more convincing to you than it does to Dirk.

He stands, tugs his suit jacket back into place by its lapels, and takes a half-step backwards. 

“We will be sending you the multiversal coordinates of her exact location. You will set out immediately upon receiving said information, or we will launch an orbital strike on Lady’s Country and glass it along with everyone inside, including you. Do you understand or do I need to dumb it down for you?”

The grin doesn’t falter but you feel the cold chill of his words fill you like ice water, brackish as it crashes up against your bones and shrivels your organs. You dying was something you’d always kind of assumed was going to happen, hell you were sort of counting on it. Either Skaianet was going to dump you and leave you for dead or you were going to get killed by one of the many, various deities lurking about the multiverse. 

Skaianet wasn’t just threatening you, though.

There were almost a million people living in L8dy’s Country per your last census, families and children being some of the newest additions. You’d spent the past few years fixing the infrastructure, you’d brought back the hydro and electric grids, you’d started up water purification plants. You’d made L8dy’s Country an oasis, and while the Casino and the Blackmarket were the heart and spine of the entire operation, L8dy’s Country was doing something that Skaianet hadn’t been able to without you– it was giving people hope. 

How long have they been capable of orbital strikes? How long had they been waiting to drop this line of intimidation, to force your hand and get you to ask how high when they told you to jump? How fucking long had they known about your plans for L8dy’s Country, and was this always their goal? To let you build it up, let you grow, let you come to care about the people living there before they threatened to kill everyone? It was dirty. It was underhanded.

It was brilliant.

You’d willfully created your own weakness and served it to them on a silver platter.

The corners of your grin twitch and strain as you fight the well of tears rising in your eyes. The facade was falling, you were unable to hold the mask and Dirk’s attack had landed exactly where he’d wanted it to. He moves away from you, dress shoes that have probably only been worn on this singular occasion letting out crisp clacks as the hard soles move off of your area rugs and onto the marble floor.

“We expect total compliance by the time we send our correspondence. If we do not detect you leaving this Universe within 24 hours of receiving our orders, we will issue the kill command. Choose your next actions carefully, Vriska. Lady’s Country depends on it.”

----

>[Pt. 3]

[persephoneggsy]

i’m having all sorts of feelings about Marian and her extremely complicated relationships with her family.

I recently found out about this dialogue:

Anders: What was your father like? Hawke:(aggressive/direct personality) Strict. High expectations. And if you didn't meet them, you'd hear about it.

Malcolm feared his kids being taken away and suffering the same abuses he did, so maybe he went overboard in making sure they were prepared to face the world as apostates. He was especially tough on Marian, the eldest, drilling it into her head that the family needs to be protected, so sacrifices must be made. 

She couldn’t grow close to other kids for fear of them discovering her magic. She was forbidden from leaving the house on her own until she was almost a full adult. And when the twins came along, suddenly she was the role model, she had to be a good example to them -- but mostly to Bethany.

Perhaps Bethany took to Malcolm’s teachings better than Marian ever did. Now Bethany is the “good one”, the “example to aspire to”. She’s sweet and polite and charming, the apple of their parents’ eyes. Everything Marian isn’t. And Maker help her, she knows it isn’t Bethany’s fault, but she can’t help but resent her anyway. (She still struggles with these thoughts even after Bethany’s death. She doesn’t have anyone to talk to about it for the longest time, at least until she meets Sebastian.)

So she starts to rebel, sneaking out just to get away from how suffocating home was. In doing so, Carver (who was already feeling neglected, being the only non-mage child and thus having limited interaction with his father) felt like she was leaving him behind, so that’s another relationship fractured. She’s closest to Carver, really, but that’s not saying much. It’s not until after he goes with the Wardens and they both mature and grow independently from each other that they can come together again and fix the relationship. 

Malcolm passes away. I don’t think we’re ever told how, so I imagine he gets sick, and it’s a slow, painful thing. Maybe on his deathbed, he makes amends with his eldest -- or at least tells her that for however harsh she thought he was, it was only to protect her. He’s proud of the woman she’s become. His last words to Marian are a reminder to protect the family -- “They’re in your hands, now, pup.” And that’s a helluva thing to put on a kid right before you die, no matter how old they are.

Then there’s Leandra. To be honest, pre-Blight, I think Marian had a mostly normal relationship with her mother, with the only grievance she had being that she felt like Bethany was the favored child. But then Bethany dies as they flee Lothering. And Leandra blames Marian, why didn’t you protect your baby sister, that’s your one job. Carver gets sick in the Deep Roads and has to be taken to the Wardens, never to return home, and she blames Marian, you should have left him here, how could you take him into such a dangerous place. 

Nevermind that Marian’s the sole breadwinner of the family, that everything she’s done since arriving in Kirkwall was for the family’s sake. For all the good she does, in Leandra’s eyes, every failing is a thousand times worse. Maybe Leandra mellows out as the years go on, maybe she even apologizes, but the damage is done and Marian’s not sure if they can salvage that relationship... And then she dies, and suddenly she’ll never know.

[princeofgod-2021]

LIGHT OF LIFE 531

John 1:4

DIVINE ORDER 96: God Seekers 25

Heb 8:6 But now He has obtained a more excellent ministry, by so much HE IS ALSO THE MEDIATOR OF A BETTER COVENANT, WHICH WAS BUILT UPON BETTER PROMISES. MKJV

THE MEDIATORS 1

Apart from the LAW working to show us how wretchedly sinful we are, it also helped to guide us to acknowledge the place and value of our Lord and Saviour JESUS CHRIST.

Gal 3:24-25 THE LAW BECOMES A GATEWAY TO LEAD US TO THE MESSIAH so that we would be saved by faith. But when faith comes the law is no longer in force, since we have already entered into life. TPT

Even as a Born-again child of God, have you ever been in sin and you really struggled to get out of it by all [prayerful] effort but failed woefully?

You developed all tenable resolutions and even inflicted yourself with “punishment” but all failed. Did you finally get out of it; did you learn to cast it all upon Jesus at the cross, just as He told us?

Mat 11:28 "Come to me all of you who are tired from the HEAVY BURDEN YOU HAVE BEEN FORCED TO CARRY. I WILL GIVE YOU REST. ERV

No man can get himself out of the problem of sin, though man brought it about. We need a Mediator who is Stronger and totally Pure.

You can’t wash dirty clothes with dirty water. Even the Word of God that purges can’t be applied by ourselves. Jesus has to do it directly.

Eph 5:25-26 Husbands, have love for your wives, even as CHRIST HAD LOVE FOR THE CHURCH, AND GAVE HIMSELF FOR IT; SO THAT HE MIGHT MAKE IT HOLY, HAVING MADE IT CLEAN WITH THE WASHING OF WATER BY THE WORD, BBE

Now because God always does His things from beginning, the concept of the Temple, Law & Mediator had been there all the way, only they were not solid and completely founded.

So, you’d ask: which Mediator was there before Jesus?

Well God was the FIRST.

Gen 4:6-7 The LORD said to Cain: What's wrong with you? Why do you have such an angry look on your face? If you had done the right thing, you would be smiling. But you did the wrong thing, and now sin is waiting to attack you like a lion. Sin wants to destroy you, but don't let it! CEV

God was the Mediator between Man and Himself, receiving the sacrifices of the men and Teaching them Law and Righteousness.

But God the Father cannot be a perfect Mediator because He is the Supreme Judge and can’t defend, prosecute and judge at the same time.

Rom 8:3 For God achieved what the law was unable to accomplish, because the law was limited by the weakness of human nature. Yet GOD SENT US HIS SON IN HUMAN FORM TO IDENTIFY WITH HUMAN WEAKNESS. CLOTHED WITH HUMANITY, God’s Son gave his body to be the sin-offering so that God could ONCE AND FOR ALL CONDEMN THE GUILT AND POWER OF SIN. TPT

Jesus as Mediator is both Prosecutor to condemn Sin, and Defender to exonerate us. He did this by dying for us, which is also more reason why God can’t be the option then.

But before Jesus, there was a SECOND Mediator. The person of Moses, who brought Law.

Gal 3:19 Why then was the Law given? It was given alongside the promise to show people their sin. But the Law was designed to last only until the coming of the child who was promised. GOD GAVE HIS LAW TO ANGELS THROUGH MOSES, WHO WAS THE MEDIATOR BETWEEN GOD AND THE PEOPLE. NLT

But Moses was a man too, and like all the Temple Priests, was subject to many shortcomings.

He first had to be trained to grasp sacredness when God first called him.

Exo 3:4-5 When the LORD saw that Moses was coming closer, he called to him from the middle of the bush and said, "Moses! Moses!" He answered, "Yes, here I am." God said, "DO NOT COME ANY CLOSER. TAKE OFF YOUR SANDALS, BECAUSE YOU ARE STANDING ON HOLY GROUND. GNB

Jesus never needed such warning because He already was an embodiment of holiness.

Heb 3:1,3 Therefore, holy brothers, partners in a heavenly calling, KEEP YOUR FOCUS ON JESUS, the apostle and high priest of our confession…because HE IS WORTHY OF GREATER GLORY THAN MOSES IN THE SAME WAY THAT THE BUILDER OF A HOUSE HAS GREATER HONOR THAN THE HOUSE ITSELF. IRV

We will have to continue this next lesson.

May God make us all stand in the Grace of Jesus when we come before Him, IN JESUS NAME.

See you on Friday, as we proceed with this Subtopic.

Brother Prince

Wednesday, July 03, 2024

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