#the dread wolf took us all

[captaintweet]

Another Solavellan comm 🥹

I feel blessed every time I'm commissioned to draw them

[mythalism]

i realized the other day after posting about this fan theory that, at this point, it is basically talked about in fandom as if its canon, and newer fans might not understand why. my goal today was to explain the theory and all of the evidence we have for it in inquisition to give people a better understanding of why this has become so ubiquitous, and to hopefully have something to look back on in two months with that "apollo gift of prophecy" dodgeball meme when veilguard proves us right.

very important before i get started: this is not my theory. i didn't make it up. unfortunately, i also don't know exactly who did and if it could even be traced at this point. this is something that many people have believed for a long time, and i'm not the first to write about it. there are a lot of great posts and essays that speculate on this theory, and what it could mean for solas's character going forward.

PLEASE feel free to contribute thoughts, or link to posts you have made yourself or seen before in the replies/reblogs!!! much of my own experience with this comes from long before this account existed, so i dont have exact sources but rather random, amorphous fandom knowledge of this theory and what major arguments have circulated in the past 10 years. this post by @sammakesart and this post by @mrs-gauche went around recently and both touch on this theory and i highly recommend them both! i know @corseque has also written about this theory multiple times over the years.

i was first introduced to this on tumblr when it started gaining ground in the fandom after the release of trespasser in 2015, predominantly due to a couple of lines of cole dialogue from trespasser, so that is where we will begin.

shoutout to @daitranscripts and the dragon age wiki for the dialogue

this line of cole's is basically the foundation of this theory, and what is cited most often. i'm not entirely sure if the theory existed before trespasser, but if it did, i dont remember it being well-known or widely accepted like it is now.

this line is usually interpreted to suggest that solas, who would have been a spirit of wisdom/pride at the time, took a body and came into being as an elf at mythal's behest. this is also the line that suggests solas himself once wore vallaslin, and that he removed it himself using the same spell he uses on a romanced lavellan thousands of years later, but did so clumsily the first time and left the scar we can see on his eyebrow.

first i want to acknowledge what are pretty much the most damning indications of this theory

solas means "pride; to stand tall" in elvhen, according to world of thedas vol. 1

the dread wolf form we see in murals, written descriptions, and of course, in real life in the veilguard trailer, bears a pretty clear resemblance to pride demons:

most notably, in the face and eyes. yeah i dont really have anything else to say about those lmao it's pretty blatant

overall, inquisition tells us a great deal about spirits, and gives the player an alternate worldview through which to understand them, distinct from the chantry/circle narrative presented previously.

solas himself, along with cole, has a lot to say about the nature of spirits throughout his dialogue and banter with several characters. one sentiment that he espouses repeatedly is that spirits and demons are the same thing, but demons are a spirit corrupted and perverted away from its purpose.

Solas: They rarely seek this world. When they do, their natures do not often survive exposure to the people they encounter. Wisdom and purpose are too easily twisted to pride and desire

During All New, Faded for Her:

PC: Solas, you said your friend was a wisdom spirit. Solas: That is not its natural form. It has been corrupted. PC: Corrupted? Solas: Forced to act against its original purpose. What did they do, what did they do, what did they do?

second, that spirits and the fade are a mirror, and reflect the waking world. specifically, that spirits reflect the perception and expectation of a mortal, and adapts accordingly. belief makes reality.

On Ostagar:

PC: I've heard the stories. It would be interesting to hear what it was really like. Solas: That's just it. In the Fade, I see reflections created by spirits who react to the emotions of the warriors. One moment, I see heroic Wardens lighting the fire and a power mad villain sneering as he lets King Cailan fall. The next, I see an army overwhelmed and a veteran commander refusing to let more soldiers die in a lost cause. PC: And you can't tell which is real? Solas: It is the fade. They are all real.

and third, that spirits are people.

solas expresses concerns over what the breach does to spirits at multiple points, including here with cassandra.

he also regularly argues in favor of spirits personhood, and passionately pushes back against characters who argue the opposite, such as dorian:

as well as the inquisitor themselves, should they choose certain dialogue options:

PC: You trust these spirits not to possess you the first time you accidentally make a wish? Solas: Do you trust your friends not to turn on you? (authors note: LMFAOOOOOOO) PC: Well, yes, but they're people. Solas: Ah, of course. PC: You know what I mean. Solas: Are people only people because they are flesh and blood? Solas: Is Cassandra defined by her cheekbones and not her faith? Varric by his chest hair not his wit? PC: They're not defined by their bodies, but they do have bodies. You need one to be a person. Solas: A demon possessing a corpse has a body. PC: A living body. Solas: A demon possesses a living mage to become an abomination. PC: They didn't make that body. They just took it over. Solas: Technically your mother created your body, with some help from your father, one assumes. PC: You've thought about this. Solas: On occasion, yes. OR:

PC: Spirits are bound by their nature. You said it yourself. They're shaped by contact with real people. Solas: Just as Leliana was shaped by contact with Divine Justinia, as those who serve the inquisition are shaped by you. If I change your mind in this conversation, does that mean you're no more real than a spirit? OR: PC: Im certain you have some rhetorical trick ready to counter anything I say. Solas: It's likely. I've had a lot of time to discuss the question with people. Or "spirits", if you prefer.

aside from this entire conversation being hilarious and very fen'harel coded, i think its notable that his enthusiasm and snark here is distinct from the way he engages in other debates, where he is often clinical and detached. on the subject of spirits, however, we get a lot more emotional investment from him - it feels personal. as he says, he's thought about it. on occasion.

solas having originally been a spirit adds helpful context for his insistence on spirit's personhood despite modern thedas's completely contradictory beliefs, and also helps inform his worldview more generally, especially in regards to elves.

one of solas's most heavily criticized aspects is his disdain for modern elves and the dalish. and i agree, it's fucked up and he is an absolute ass about it at nearly every opportunity. however, his feelings regarding the elves sometimes seem... strange, even in the context of him being an ancient elf.

keeping in mind cole's line from trespasser, that he "did not want a body", as well as another cole line from trespasser:

most people infer that there is some sort of resentment on solas's end for him having to become human at mythal's request. it seems as if he was turned away from his purpose. wisdom forced to be pride.

cole's personal quest, which shows solas passionately arguing to keep cole a spirit, supports this. it is almost as if he is trying to prevent cole from the same fate that was forced upon him.

throughout the quest he says things such as: "This is not some fanciful story, child of the stone. We cannot change our nature by wishing." "A spirit does not work through emotions. It embodies them." "You would alter the essence of what he is." "It is good that he is not entirely changed, however human he becomes."

most telling of all, i think is this line at the end of the quest if you elect to keep cole as a spirit.

Varric: "He could have been a person." Solas: Possibly. Would that have made him happier?

OUGGHGH.

clearly, for solas, the answer was no. being a person has not made him happier.

regardless, solas still values spirits as fundamentally equal to people despite their differences and worthy of the same freedoms, self-determination and respect.

this kinship with spirits, however, might help explain his disdain for elves, in a way i find to be more satisfying than "all ancient elves are assholes" and more in-line with his character overall.

it seems as if solas doesnt see himself as separate from modern elves because he doesnt see himself as a modern elf, but that he doesnt not see himself as an elf at all, but rather as a spirit.

solas infamously says, following halamshiral if you bring up briala:

"I'm sorry, I was confused. I do not consider myself to have much in common with the elves."

the inquisitor has the option for several responses, and although most of us probably pick the one that tells him to fuck off, the others are more telling:

PC: Nor should you. You're not defined by the shape of your ears. They're not your people. Solas: No, they are not. OR PC: Who do you have much in common with. Who are your people? Solas: A good question. Solas: I joined the inquisition to save the world. Regardless of who "my people" are, this was the best way to help him.

"not being defined by the shape of your ears" and solas's immediate identification with the statement and approval of it sticks out to me. it seems like he's just being racist, and he very well might be, but in the context of this theory, it can also be interpreted as him disliking being "defined" by having a body at all, or any physical characteristics, consistent with how he resists the idea that varric and cassandra are defined by their own physical characteristics.

if the player insists they want to help the orlesian elves even if he doesnt, he still has something interesting to say:

Solas: Stop Corypheus. That will do for a start. It speaks well of you to feel for the oppressed. Help them for that. Know them for what they are.

this is not the only time he equates all oppressed groups of thedas to one another, defined by their shared subjugation rather than the real, in-world divisions such as race and religion. it's also interesting to consider the relationship between oppression, as a situation that evokes certain emotions in those who experience it, such as pride. as solas says of ostagar, spirits there were drawn to the emotions of the soldiers there. are spirits of pride drawn to situations of oppression, where pride is needed for liberation?

solas's failure (or refusal) to recognize the reality of how oppression functions in modern thedas along lines of race and ethnicity specifically is one of his biggest flaws, but it continues to fit with this theory, as it is consistent with that same sort of single-minded, spirit tunnel-vision that we see from spirits and demons. i would also assume that he considers spirits to be part of this monolithic group of "the oppressed", considering the spirit slavery/bondage practices in tevinter and nevarra, both of which he criticizes.

i do believe, however, that to equate all of solas's unfair derision of the dalish to him identifying with spirits over people, rather than ancient elves over modern elves, would be too generous and an oversimplification. its also clear how much of his anger towards the dalish comes from... wait for it.... his wounded pride.

solas is prideful. when he is faced with pride in others, he becomes defensive, even nasty. when his pride is challenged, often by others pride, he becomes almost unrecognizable. the dalish specifically rub up against his pride, in the most specific of ways that grate at his most cherished qualities and that disregard his own perception of himself. the thing he is most proud of, leading a slave rebellion against corrupt tyrants, erased from history entirely. branded a traitor instead, while those he fought against are worshiped as saviors for millennia.

Solas: I have joined my fair share of causes. But when I offered lessons learned in the Fade, I was derided by my enemies... and sometimes by my allies. Liar. Fool. Madman. There are endless ways to say something isn't worth listening to. Over time, it grinds away at you.

its also possible, considering what we know of the nature of expectation creating reality for spirits, that the dalish framing of the dread wolf actually does indeed make him worse - more arrogant, less compassionate, more ruthless, more cunning, more of a liar. a spirit being perverted into a demon based on the dominant perception of it.

perhaps the most interesting tidbit about solas of all which supports this theory, is that this phenomenon of expectation shaping his nature, making him more prideful or more humble, is not exclusive to the world of thedas, but also occurs on a meta-level with the player by proxy of the inquisitor.

a 2020 interview of trick weekes, solas's writer, says this pretty much verbatim.

"Solas mirrors. If you approach Solas from a place of humility and say, "I want to learn from you," Solas will bend over backwards to tell you how flawed he is and how he's just coming at this from his own limited understanding. If you come in with ego, Solas is genetically incapable of not bristling when he sees your ego... because he can't not do that."

this is fascinating for like 7 million reasons, but most notably for the language trick uses that i believe to be incredibly revealing. first, solas himself talks about how spirits "mirror" the real world multiple times. second is the way in which they speak about solas's mirroring as innate, uncontrollable, and involuntary. he is genetically incapable of not mirroring. genetically incapable of not bristling at someone else's pride. this being a genetic incapability implies, pretty unambigously, that he is a spirit. we dont know of any people in thedas who have pride in their DNA. except. you know. pride demons.

pride is his purpose. he cannot turn away from it or betray that purpose to pursue something else. he cannot change his nature simply by wishing. if he were to attempt it, he would be corrupted.

trick offers this information as an explanation for player's extremely varied perception of solas when playing the game, and it perfectly mimics the way solas himself talks about spirits as being created by a dreamer's expectation of them.

when asked about his friendships with spirits, he says:.

PC: You're saying that you became friends with pride and desire demons? Solas: They were not demons for me. PC: Meaning? Solas: The Fade reflects the minds of the living. If you expect a spirit of wisdom to be a pride demon, it will adapt/ And if your mind is free of corrupting influences? If you understand the nature of the spirit? They can be fast friends.

i just love how perfectly this reflects every fandom argument that's been had on twitter about solas for the past 10 years. like seriously.

random twitter user: you like that guy!? but hes a [demon]!! solas stans: he wasn't a demon for me

and it is true; people who are pretty deep into the games often know what solas is like to a low-approval inquisitor, but it can be shocking for new players to see what he is like at the other end of the approval spectrum, whether that is someone who hated him seeing the tenderness with which he kisses a romanced lavellan goodbye to remove her anchor in trespasser, or someone who romanced him witnessing the cruelty and detachment which with he grabs a low-approval inquisitor to yank off their anchor. he becomes almost an entirely different person based on how the player treats him.

for all that solas, in true spirit form, reflects the perceptions of the players, he has plenty of pure pride-demon vibes on his own, independent of player expectation. he is not just proud, or made proud as a mirror for player/character pride, but he often even goes as far as to act in ways that mimic how we have seen from spirits more generally, as well as pride demons specifically.

the wiki states:

"Spirits are not complex in the sense that they seize upon a single facet of human experience, and this one idea becomes their identity.[3] They are formed as a reflection of the real world and its passions.[10] A spirit embodies and latches onto a specific purpose and will do all in its power to fulfill that purpose. For instance, a hunger demon will attempt to feed on anything it crosses,[4] and a spirit of justice will stop at nothing to uphold its name”

along with further reinforcing solas's tunnel vission as characteristic of spirits, he does indeed intentionally attempt to stoke arrogance in others, as well as test characters to see if they are vulnerable to arrogance and power-hungriness. this is probably best exemplified by his banter with vivienne, versus his banter with cassandra.

i mean this one is self explanatory. cmon.

but it becomes especially interesting when compared to his interactions with cassandra, of whom he starts out very distrustful of. however, through their banter, he immediately begins to test her for indications of her inclination towards arrogance and desire for power:

cassandra passes solas's tests and earns his approval through her humility, curiosity, and willingness to give up power for the greater good. as a result, solas softens considerably towards her, and becomes more evocative of wisdom than pride, offering her advice when she asks, though very humbly:

"i would hardly presume" is actually hilarious considering how he does presume. ALL THE TIME. but it shows the extent of this "mirroring" that trick mentions, when compared to how he speaks with vivienne, who does not pass his tests of pride: notice how his jabs at her specifically target her pride, the things she is proud of about herself, and tear them down:

he tells her that her position in the orlesian court is unearned, that the freedom she is so proud of winning for herself will come to an inevitable end, and that her resistance to demons does not make her special. its absolutely BRUTAL.

its especially important to note how little bearing vivienne and cassandra's backgrounds have on solas's perception of them. vivienne is a circle mage, a group of people who solas deeply sympathizes with, and believes should be freed. meanwhile cassandra is effectively templar, a group whom solas despises and finds unjust, and has been complacent in the oppression of mages that solas is so vehemently against.

and yet? it does not matter. he measures their worth based entirely on their propensity for pride.

it’s worth noting too, keeping in mind Solas’s almost uncharacteristic reverence for cassandra’s faith in the maker and (take this with a grain of salt because it was david gaider and he said via forum post….) that there are actually two types of spirits that become pride. wisdom, and faith.

"A spirit embodies and latches onto a specific purpose and will do all in its power to fulfill that purpose."

what we DONT know: pretty much everything else about this. what was the process like? at what point in history did he take the body? how was that body made? was it stolen? did he start as wisdom and turn into pride later? did he always oscillate between both? was he corrupted by what was asked of him, to fight, as his friend was in his personal quest?

i could continue talking about this forever, probably, especially with how it manifests in the solavellan relationship and what it suggests for solas's story in veilguard, but ill cut it here for both my own sanity and yours. but first, a few fun dialogue bits that strike me as very pride-demon coded but didn't fit anywhere else in this analysis.

in conclusion:

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Little Lupin {pt. 2}

James Potter x Lupin!Reader

Wc: 1995

Summary: Seven Minutes in heaven

Part 1 - Part 3

Seven minutes in heaven, a perfectly normal party game for a Halloween party.

The Gryffindor dorms were packed with students. Remus and Sirius had even gone out of their way to invite other students from different houses, having asked you not to come; which meant you were most definitely there.

And there you were.

The atmosphere buzzed with excitement as students mingled, dressed in costumes ranging from elaborate to ridiculous. James had opted for a classic- dressed as a dashing pirate, complete with a fake sword and an eye patch that kept slipping down over his eye, resulting in him just taping it over his glasses at one point. He was trying to act nonchalant, but his heart raced every time he caught sight of you, dressed as a simple ‘old magic’ witch. With a flowing black cloak and a pointed hat that somehow made you look even more picturesque.

So, when he was asked about playing the game, he figured it was the best way to get away from you. You wouldn't play, not from lack of trying, but Remus had been tailing you all day, nagging the fun out of everything you did.

Much to James’s dismay, Sirius suddenly dragged Remus off to the prefect dorms, the mummy and archaeologist effectively out for the night.

So, when Dorcas called you over, James felt a mix of dread and anxiety swirl in his stomach. He watched as you settled into the circle, hat framing your face like a halo, and all he could think about was how close you were to everyone else but him. When Marlene announced the rules, he couldn’t help but focus on the way your lips moved as you spoke, laughing at whatever ridiculous thing Peter had said.

“Alright, everyone! You know the rules! We’ll draw names, and whoever is picked will go into the closet for seven minutes!” Lily announced as she took off her own hat, extending it into the circle. Everyone tossed in their own names on a piece of paper and Lily instructed everyone to just pick one.

The first one to draw was Marlene, and the second she read Dorcas’s name aloud, you have a wolf whistle, making the dark skinned girl flush a rosy tint.

Marlene made a kissy face and Dorcas shoved her shoulder before standing up, walking over to the closet and shuffling in.

James watched as people continued to draw and snuck off, the lack of closets had people resorting to empty dorms.

When it was your turn to pick, his mouth grew dry, you read the paper and your usual smile doubled. Your eyes flicked to him and you turned the page around to dash his name at him.

A wave of heat rushed to James's face, and he felt as if he might burst into flames. The room erupted in a chorus of teasing laughter and wolf whistles, and he could only manage to blink at you in disbelief.

“Oh, look who it is! The pirate and the witch!” Diggory teased form across the room, his voice barely muffled over the music. “Get ready to set sail for seven minutes of magic!”

“Shove it, Amos!” You shouted over with your usual fire, before you stood up. Your smile playful and daring, and James could only watch as you approached him, the laughter around them fading into a muted buzz. His heart raced as you gestured for him to follow you.

“C’mon, pirate.” You teased, holding out your hand to tug on his sleeve as he barely kept up.

James felt a jolt shoot through him as your fingers brushed against his sleeve. He could hardly believe this was happening. Thoughts swirled in his head- what was he supposed to say? What if he made a fool of himself? What if this was for show? Bloody hell, what if Remus found out? But your infectious energy pulled him along, and before he knew it, he was standing in his dorm room.

He watched as you walked over to the bed that used to belong to Remus and sat down, smiling up at him.

James swallowed hard, trying to shake off the nerves that had settled in his stomach. “So… uh, seven minutes, huh?” He stammered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he took a hesitant step closer. Cursing himself for making a fool of himself, he is usually so strong willed and charming, where had that all gone?

You giggled, and he remembered. Right. He couldn't even form a thought with you around. The laugh you gave was so light and airy, it sent a thrill coursing through him. Fuck it. “What’s the matter, Captain? Afraid of a little adventure?”

“Me? Afraid?” He scoffed, puffing out his chest playfully, but he could feel his cheeks heating up. “I’m a pirate! I fear nothing!” He struck a ridiculous pose, making you laugh.

He began to relax, having his first real conversation with you since the previous school year, before you both grew up.

Now, a bit more relaxed, he could truly take you in. You were looking at him but not in his eyes, your cheeks were rosey and your fingers fidgeted with the sheets under you. His expression softened and his smile returned. That charming sweet one you loved so much.

“You know.” He started as he walked over and sat down beside you. Making you shuffle a bit. “Nothing has to happen. We could just.. talk, for seven- six minutes.”

“Talk?” You teased, turning to smirk at him. This time, your eyes met his and there was this pause. A moment where the air left your lungs and you could only admire his brown eyes. Both of you sat there for a moment, not noticing just how lost the other was. “What does an old witch and a pirate have to talk about?”

He gave a breathy chuckle and caught himself, slowly smiling. “Well, I have to say, you caught me there.”

You both shared a laugh, the tension slowly dissipating as you settled into the moment. James glanced around the room, half-expecting someone to burst in and interrupt, but for now, it was just you two in this bubble of quiet excitement.

“Well…” He leaned back slightly, “I could tell you about my grand adventures on the high seas.” He waved his arms dramatically, mimicking the sweeping movements of a pirate captain. “Fighting off mermaids, searching for treasure, and-”

“James.” You interrupted him, placing your hand on his arm to draw his attention. James thought he stopped breathing for a moment.

“Yeah?”

“I want to talk to James.” You pushed, slowly biting your lip. “So that it isn't weird… what I'm about to do.”

“What?” He whispered, James furrowed his brow in concern at your skittish behavior. Reaching out to take you hand, he didn't notice as you leaned forward until you kissed his cheek. He was visibly stunned, jaw dropping as you hesitated.

He stared at you for a good long moment and you grew more anxious. A million questions running through your mind at once, you just hoped he didn't absolute hate it- that he wasn't disgusted or appalled- maybe he still had a thing for Lily? Maybe you misread the room?

Before you could apologize, you watched him lean in. His lips brushed yours and his hand found the back of your neck to keep you close.

The kiss was soft and tentative, a gentle exploration that sent butterflies racing through your stomach. He leaned a bit deeper, his hand resting behind your back on the bed, as your hands found themselves gripping his shirt. Time seemed to stretch, every heartbeat echoing in your ears as you melted into the moment. James’s warmth wrapped around you, his gentle touches igniting a spark that you had long buried beneath layers of uncertainty.

When he pulled back, his eyes were wide, a mix of surprise and absolute adoration reflecting back at you. You hadn't seen this look before, you hadn't felt a kiss like this before, you hadn't met someone like James before- “Wow.” He breathed, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid to shatter the moment.

“Better then talking?” You whispered and he quickly nodded aggressively in the affirmative.

"Much better.” A grin spread across his face that made your heart flutter. His eyes sparkled with a mixture of excitement and disbelief, as if he couldn’t quite process what had just happened.

You both sat there, the atmosphere thick with newfound intimacy, the sounds of the party fading muffled by the door. Every second felt precious, and you could feel the weight of the world outside the room slipping away.

“James-”

Before she could finish her words, the door was busted open. You knew for certain it couldn't of been seven minutes, so when you turned and were greeted by Sirius, your heart dropped.

Quickly, you and James separated. He fixed his costume and you fixed your lip stick that now stained his lips.

“Fuck-” James hissed and watched as you hurried over to grab him cloth to wash his lip.

Sirius was slack jawed before you heard Remus’s voice from down the hall. You gave Sirius puppy dog eyes, begging him not to say a word.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he surveyed the scene. “Well, well, well! Looks like we’ve stumbled upon a secret rendezvous!” His voice was teasing, but there was a hint of mischief in his eyes.

“Shut it, Sirius!” James shot back, his cheeks flushed, the remnants of your kiss still lingering on his lips. He could feel the heat radiating from his face, and he quickly swiped at his mouth with the cloth you handed him, trying to wipe away the evidence of what had just happened.

You shot Sirius a glare, your heart pounding in your chest as you felt the embarrassment wash over you. You watched in slight horror as your brother slipped behind Sirius and looked at the scene with a glare.

“What are you two up to?” He pushed and before James could say anything, you quickly put on a face. Mastered from years of having to get away with things while your mom of a brother was looking over your shoulder.

“Just catching up! Haven't properly talked to James in a while.” You hummed and walked to the door in hope of hiding your flushed cheeks.

“What were you talking about?” Remus pushed and you gave a scoff.

“Oh Remus, you know Pirates and Witches don't care to talk to archaeologists.” You hummed and passed him in the hall.

“What? Since when?” He scoffed and you smirked up at him.

“Since now!” You quickly peaked back into the room and gave James a wave. “Bye Jamie!”

He gave you a bright grin, nodding off to you and watching as you scurried off, Remus following you.

Leaving just Sirius and James sitting there.

Sirius leaned against the doorframe, a mischievous grin plastered across his face. “You know, I never thought I’d see the day when James Potter would get himself locked away with a girl, and then she'd let him kiss her! And it wasn't Lily Evans! Fancy that!”

James groaned, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Shut it, Sirius. It was just a game. We were just having fun!”

“Fun? Is that what you call it?” Sirius laughed, stepping further into the room, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. “You looked like you were about to declare your undying love on the spot. Think you'll take her last name? James Fleamont Lupin has a nice ring to it.”

James rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help the smile creeping onto his face. “It was just a kiss.”

“A kiss… yeah.” He laughed and gestured to his own face. “James?”

“What?”

“You have lipstick on your teeth.”

[6rookie-writer0110]

The Raven and the wolf

Wednesday Addams x Male Reader

Request: Being Bucky Barnes' supersoldier son and dating Wednesday Addams. He meets her and her family at her home when Gomez and Morticia insist on meeting his Dad.

You are standing outside your girlfriend’s house. It's everything that you imagined, dark and gloomy, and the crows flying around. Wednesday is standing next to you and she looks at you.

“Scared?” Wednesday asked.

“No. I like the style of your family’s home much different than mine” You said.

“Let me guess, it has colors and around happy people,” Wednesday said.

“Something like that,” You said.

You look at her and smile but she doesn't smile at her. You follow her inside the house and she introduces you to her family. You shake Gomez’s hand and he likes that because your handshake is strong.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Addams” You smiled.

“We are happy that our little storm finally brings her boyfriend,” Gomez said.

“This is a bad idea,” Wednesday said.

“Join us for dinner and it will be ready soon” Morticia smiled.

“Sure” You smiled.

You follow Wednesday to her bedroom. You start to look around she has many books, an old typewriter, files of old unsolved crimes, and some weapons.

“Wow, your room… it's dark…” You said.

“Why do you seem surprised?” Wednesday asked.

“I’m not. I always pictured how your room would look but I wasn't sure with what” You said.

You look out the window and all you see is the graveyard. A Crow flew by the window and you got scared.

“Can’t believe you got scared of a crow” Wednesday said.

“First of all, I'm not scared, and the crow surprised me,” You said.

“You were scared,” Wednesday said.

You and Wednesday sit on the bed, your hand is next to her hand. You and Wednesday look at each other then slowly start to lean in, you are about to kiss her but her mother walks in.

“Dinner is ready, Y/n, and Wednesday,” Morticia said.

“We will be downstairs in a little bit,” Wednesday said.

“Of course and I will leave the door open,” Morticia said.

She walks away.

“Your mom is nice,” You said.

“Mhmm,” Wednesday said.

You and Wednesday hold hands and go downstairs. You sit next to Wednesday and her parents start to ask questions.

“What does your mother do for a living, Y/n” Gomez asked.

“I told you, not to ask questions about his family,” Wednesday said.

“It’s okay. I don't have a good relationship with my mom. I live with my dad and he goes on missions to save people” You said.

“How did you meet my little Scorpion?” Morticia asked.

“Mother,” Wednesday said in a stern voice.

“She stole something from me and it took a while to get it back. I didn't leave her side until she gave it back now we are dating. Plus she likes my super strength” You smiled.

Wednesday rolled her eyes and you just smiled.

“What a romantic story” Morticia smiled.

“I’m going to lose my appetite,” Wednesday said.

“You should bring your father for us to meet. We would love to meet him” Gomez said.

“Why?” Wednesday asked.

She hasn't met your dad yet.

“Of course. There isn't anything wrong with meeting his father, we want to get to know him better. This is the first boyfriend you bring home for us to meet” Gomez said.

“Umm, sure I will ask my dad to come,” You said.

Her parents kept asking you questions. Wednesday wants the night to finish already.

After dinner, Wednesday disappeared to the graveyard. It took you a while to find her and she is digging.

“Wednesday, why are you avoiding me?” You asked.

She kept digging and some dirt went on your sneakers.

“It was dreadful, how my parents got along with you. And my mother keeps thinking it's romantic how we met” Wednesday said.

“It’s true, you stole it from me. I'm confused is it wrong that I got along with your parents?” You said.

She kept digging and more dirt went on your sneakers.

“Bring the coffin into the hole,” Wednesday said.

You help her get out of the hole. She watched you pick up the coffin without any problems. You gently put it in the hole and she gave you the shovel.

“Get to digging,” Wednesday said.

She leaned in and kissed you on the lips, she surprised you with a kiss. You start to smile at her and she shows you affection, by letting you dig with her.

✫ ✫ ✯ ✬

You are home and you are talking to your dad.

“I know you have a girlfriend named Wednesday Addams. I'm not sure if I approve of you dating her” Bucky said.

“Dad, she is nice to me and she cares about me. Yeah, she seems strange to everyone and heartless but we care about each other a lot. Dad, you will like her and her family. Wait, how do you know her name I didn't say it” You said.

“You are not good at hiding a relationship. Plus, I ran into your principal Weems, and told me about you and Wednesday's adventures” Bucky said.

“Please meet them and you will see that they are nice people,” You said.

“Fine. I will go but if she pulls a stunt of hurting someone like she did at her old school, I will forbid you from dating her and I will put you in another school” Bucky said.

“You are being dramatic, dad,” You said.

You glare at him and he is serious about it. You go to your bedroom and you want to text your girlfriend, but she hates cellphones.

———

You and your father arrived at the mansion. You introduced Wednesday and her family to your dad. Everyone notices his metal arm and he greets them.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Barnes” Gomez said.

“Call me, Bucky” Bucky said.

“We are glad to meet you. Dinner will be ready in a little while” Morticia said.

“My son told me how you two met,” Bucky said to Wednesday.

“He followed me around like a lost puppy, it was annoying,” Wednesday said.

“She liked it” You smiled.

Bucky noticed that she didn't show emotions. Bucky is trying to figure out why you like her. You and your dad followed them to the dining room. Everyone starts to eat and you are sitting next to Wednesday.

“How did you get your metal arm?” Wednesday asked.

“It happened in 1945, I was trying to stop Hydra an evil organization. I fell from the train down towards the mountain, Hyra captured me and they experimented on me” Bucky said.

“Did you say 1945?” Gomez asked.

“Yes. I’m 108 years old” Bucky said.

He starts to eat his food and they are speechless, except for Wednesday. They start to talk more and get to know each other. Bucky still noticed that your girlfriend doesn't show any emotions at all.

“Is that a hand!?” Bucky asked.

Thing gets on your shoulder.

“His name is Thing, he is part of the family,” Morticia said.

“I don’t know sign language,” Bucky said.

“He said, it's nice to meet you,” Gomez said.

“Hi… Thing…” Bucky said unsure.

“How was Y/n as a little boy,” Morticia said.

“He was shy and didn't want to leave my side. When he was five years old, he did a school dance in front of everyone and I thought it would help him get out of his shell. He got stage fright and he didn't do the dance, I got up and started to do the steps then he started to copy me” Bucky said.

“Dad, you promised not to tell,” You said.

“How precious, of you to do that for him,” Morticia said.

After dinner, your dad kept talking to Morticia and Gomez. Wednesday wanted to show you her secret weapon room.

“Wow, you have a lot of weapons,” You said.

“Nobody knows about this. You are the first” Wednesday said.

You gave her a peck on the lips.

“You are my first serious relationship,” You said.

“Y/n, don't get soft on me,” Wednesday said.

You just smile at her. But she did kiss you on the lips and some of her lipstick is on your lips.

[corseque]

Re: your Twitter poll: I think I’m the only one who thinks that Trespasser line reads oddly if they didn’t have sex.

If they didn’t, that means either 1 of 3 things: Solas is denying something Lavellan herself is asserting, Solas didn’t understand the metaphor or Solas bizarrely brought it up as a non-sequitur.

Meanwhile, if they did have sex, he’s presuming she’s using a play on words to insinuate that he took her for a ride and he’s saying no, I wouldn’t have slept with you if I was pretending the whole time.

I’ve had a few people say this to me, but it makes perfect sense to me so maybe I can try to explain. I’m writing the rest of this post talking only about the interpretation where Solas and Lavellan did not have sex, but as we know, it’s equally valid and canon to think they did have sex. Ok. So.

Solas: “What is the old Dalish curse? “May the Dread Wolf take you?”

Lavellan: “And so he did.” (The Dread Wolf did trick me like the old curse said.)

— Solas: “I did not. I would not lay with you under false pretenses.” (I did not. I would never cross the line and have sex with you under false pretenses.)* —

“But you lied to me. I loved you. Did you really think I wouldn’t have understood?” (It doesn’t matter that you didn’t cross that line. You still lied to me and didn’t trust me when I loved you.)

*yes, this is a disjointed thing to respond with. He’s thinking of the innuendo when she isn’t.

So you said it was one of three things - I think it’s the third thing, Solas bringing it up in a (at first glance) bizarre way.

I think that Reddit post I linked on Twitter made a good point in that Solas seems very thrown in this conversation when Lavellan doesn’t dump him immediately. He’s expecting to be dumped, he isn’t expecting to defend himself. And his defenses seem very wrong-footed, unpolished, honest, and, now that I’m thinking about it, interesting. (I’ll tie it together after looking at the angry branch.)

In the other, equivalent branch, it goes

Lavellan: “Ma harel lasa!” (“You lied to me!”)

— Solas: “Only by omission.” (Lol) —

Lavellan: “Ma lasa banal’ghilana!” (You led me astray!”)

Solas: “What would you have had me say, that I was the great adversary in your people’s mythology?”

Lavellan: “I would have had you trust me!”

The equivalent line there is “Only by omission” which is an equally silly lame duck defense to say. It’s as silly to say “I only half-lied to you!” as it is to say “Well, at least I didn’t have sex with you!”

But I think what these responses both have in common* is that they both would be things he had thought about for years of regret and rumination, so that’s why they were honestly on his mind when he suddenly had to answer for himself. “At least I never lied to her, I only lied by omission.” “At least I didn’t cross that line with her and have sex with her.” “What was I supposed to tell her? ‘By the way, I’m the devil who has haunted your people for ages beyond counting?’”

(it’s funny that all 3 of these things he’s been telling himself just blow away in the wind in an actual conversation with her, haha)

Anyway, “I didn’t cross the line of sex with you” is not a non-sequitor if he had been ruminating about it for years and it was important to him. If it wasn’t important to him*, they would have had sex.

*in this interpretation, of course.

[bitebitekxll]

SAGAU || When they’re in your party

Razor • Kaeya • Barbara • Xinyan

Notes: this isn’t about party comps, just the single character being in your party regardless of who else is. Starting with these 4 cause they’ve been my party since I started playing in 2020.

Also you can see this as them being your main or just constantly in your party, I think it works either way. Baby’s first tumblr post let’s goooo, maybe one day I’ll figure out a theme

Razor doesn’t really get the whole Divine Creator thing. He knows you’re important, of course he does. You’re his lupical, but with more authority than even Andrius. You take care of him, and everyone in Wolvendom and the city, and everyone everywhere as well. But, when it comes to some of the specifics… Razor gets a little confused.

He knows you’re called Grace— Teacher always corrects him, but he doesn’t know why adding ‘your’ in front is so important —and that there are festivals and traditions connected with you like there are for Barbatos. But Razor can never remember any of the prayers or songs. Bennett and Fischl took him to the Church once, but the Sister speaking used a lot of words he didn’t know the meaning of, and spoke in long sentences he struggled to focus on.

Andrius says the human customs don’t matter, because Razor has been chosen. Not only as a vessel, as someone marked by the Creator and strengthened with Their power, but also as one of your favoured vessels. Teacher explained how most people, vessels included, couldn’t feel you as strongly as he did, weren’t offered the same kind of strength he had been given since gaining your attention.

Razor knows some people don’t like how you take such good care of him. He’s different from the other people in Mondstadt, unsure of how to even be a person and constantly disturbing others with his cluelessness about human customs. Sometimes he feels guilty, that he doesn’t know how to properly thank you for all you’ve done, doesn’t even fully comprehend what you are and how he should think of you.

But then he feels his claws of steel and lightning grow stronger, feels his injuries miraculously healing after a bad fight, and he thinks that maybe he doesn’t need to know.

Maybe Razor will never get the whole Divine Creator thing, but he loves you, and he can feel how you love him. And Razor is happy.

Kaeya feels like he’s constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. You’re a god, the god; there’s no way you don’t know what he is. And yet, he was one of the first to become your vessel.

He had expected you to strike him down right then, the moment he felt your presence. But instead, nothing happened. He had stood there outside the Temple of the Wolf, watching the Traveler and Paimon wander away while he was paralysed with fear. The cavalier smile that had protected him for so many years faltered as he struggled to breathe, terror crushing his lungs. Kaeya had thought that was your doing— that you had decided his punishment for existing would be a slow suffocation. But when he finally managed to inhale, he realised that was not the case.

He thought maybe you actually didn’t know, and soon you would lose interest with him and turn your Gaze elsewhere. Except… he continues to get stronger, continues to feel your presence increasing in his life: what once started as a flickering flame now a blazing inferno.

Every time the swing of his blade seems to hit harder than it did the previous day, every time he notices he’s tiring slower than he ever has before, he feels dread creeping up his shoulders. If you don’t know about his heritage, then the more attention you give him, the sooner you will eventually find out.

And if you do… Kaeya doesn’t know what that would mean for him.

He is not made for worship, for reverence, he doesn’t know how. Even if he grew up with his surrogate father teaching him— the Ragnvindr household being a devoted one to both you and Barbatos —prayer always burned his tongue, bitter and acidic. He could never tell if it was because he didn’t wish to be a devotee or because he knew he didn’t deserve to be one, impostor that he was.

So Kaeya waits for the day you finally show your wrath, waits for the day this game comes to an end and you cast him down like all the sinners before him. And, deep inside where he will never bring himself to admit it, he waits for the day where he can finally believe that he, too, is worthy of your care.

Barbara has never had a greater honour than being one of your favoured. When you began claiming vessels, granting people your presence and lending them your power, she did not expect to be included among them. Amber, Kaeya, Noelle: they were all amazing at protecting the people of Mondstadt, doing so much for the community. Even Lisa, who never hid how she enjoyed slacking off, was a force to be reckoned with when she finally decided she needed to take action (usually when it concerned her books).

Barbara, however, wasn’t a fighter. She was a good healer, and tried her best to make others happy as an idol, but did that really warrant Your attention?

Apparently, it did. And the love she felt for you was enough to make her dizzy, equal parts grateful for the gift of your power and terrified she would disappoint you.

But deep inside, beneath the nerves and melancholy that plagued her heart each day, beneath the desperate need she felt to make others happy and help them, she couldn’t help but feel a quiet, selfish glee. She finally had an area she surpassed her sister in, a sign that she was good enough. Not only was she beloved by the city, but she was beloved by You, the highest ranking divinity in existence.

When she felt exhausted from her duties or her depression threatened to creep in outside of the thirty seconds she allocated for it daily, the ties she held to you, the attention you gave her above anyone else, comforted her more than anything.

So even if it’s hard for her to keep a smile on her face every day, she keeps going anyway. Because you believe in her, and she won’t let you down.

Xinyan is not the kind of person who gains the favour of the gods. The way she dresses, the way she talks, her knife eyes and frightening smile; she’s the furthest thing from ‘holy’, the furthest thing from the upstanding folk who are assumed to be the Creator’s favourite. The Divine Creator likes elegance, refinement, not loud and excitable, brash things like her.

At least, that’s what everyone else said. From a young age, Xinyan had resolved not to worry too much about it. She appreciated you and Rex Lapis, respected how Liyue was protected by the gods and the adepti, but she never revered any of them as much as some others did.

But somehow, she became a vessel anyways. And sure, some people garnered your attention only to be left alone after; Xinyan expected to be another one of those cases. Until she kept getting stronger, her shields going from a light shimmer to a solid protective bubble, the flames her vision summoned growing every week. It’s great for her shows— both the pyrotechnics and the turnout after word got around about someone like her being a favoured vessel. But, for Xinyan herself, it’s confusing.

No one knows why she has been chosen, especially not her.

At one point she thinks maybe she should focus more on her gentler hobbies: cooking, sewing, things that match the respectability that is expected from a vessel. Except she doesn’t feel Your presence when she’s at home working on her embroidery; she feels it when she’s performing, or fighting, or just running around Liyue (accidentally) causing trouble.

So sure, she might not be the typical candidate for a vessel, and she might have no idea why you picked her, but damn what anyone else has to say about it.

With the warmth inside her chest and the strength in her vision, she knows you’re happy with your choice.

[soulofapatrick]

They Find Out You're Pregnant: Teen Wolf Boys part one

Summary: How each boy finds out you're pregnant

Words: 4K altogether

warnings: unplanned pregnancy but mostly fluff

As I step into the bedroom, I sense the tension thick in the air, swirling around Stiles like a storm cloud. He’s curled up on the bed, facing away from me, and I can tell he’s not asleep despite the lack of his usual cute little snores. His shoulders rise and fall with a rhythm that betrays a restlessness I’ve come to recognise all too well.

“Sti, baby?” I press, desperation creeping into my voice. I need him to look at me, to see past whatever wall he’s built between us. Cold eyes and a scowl meet my gaze when he finally turns to face me, and it feels like knives piercing my heart.

“Stiles, what did I do?” I press on, desperate for him to look at me, to see those beautiful brown eyes and his cute little nose and his quirky little smile that has me feeling giddy. Instead, I’m met with cold eyes and a scowl as he burrows further into the bed as if he wants to disappear and it breaks my heart. 

“You know what you’ve done, asshole!” His words sting, buried back in the pillow, yet his pain is palpable. It’s then that I realise — he’s found the test. The pregnancy test I took last night, discarded in the bin, not thinking Stiles would see it until I was ready. Dread settles in my stomach as I know what he must think as we haven’t done anything for a few weeks as the full moon happened and now boom, pregnant test. 

“Sti, listen to me.” With resolve, I move closer, needing him to understand. He tries to evade me, but I’m quicker, using my werecoyote strength to turn him onto his back. We wrestle for a few moment, not wanting to make Stiles feel utterly powerless, until the fight in him leaves and I’m straddling his waist, holding his arms down gently but firmly. 

“Mieczyslaw Noah Stilinski,” I use his full name, a last resort to get through to him, and his resistance finally melts away. His tear-filled eyes meet mine, vulnerability shining through the facade of anger. 

“Stiles, baby… Stiles, I’m a coyote,” I start, trying to explain the complexities he may not fully grasp or have thought of. He nods, his expression pained, as if bracing for the worst, “We have heats and ruts. Stiles, that test was mine.” The weight of my words hangs heavy in the air between us. His blush telling me he’s embarrassed, but he’s trying to understand. 

“You’re pregnant?” His voice is quiet, laced with a mixture of hope and disbelief. I just nod, feeling a rush of relief that the truth is finally out. 

“Yes Stiles. I’m pregnant with our child.” I say it plainly letting the enormity of the revelation sink in. His reaction is immediate— he sits up abruptly, catching me off guard with a headbutt that he seems oblivious to in his rush to kiss me.

The kiss is desperate, passionate, a floodgate of emotions breaking open. Stiles’s hands find their way to my waist, pulling me closer as if he's afraid I might disappear. My hands cup his face, fingers trembling slightly with a mix of relief and apprehension. His lips move against mine with a hunger that matches my own, seeking reassurance and connection in the midst of uncertainty. Every touch, every caress speaks volumes—of love, of fear, of hope.

When we finally pull apart, breathless and flushed, our foreheads lean against each other, eyes closed as we try to catch our breath. My fingers thread through his hair, tangling in the messy strands that I’ve come to adore. Stiles’s hands linger on my waist, his touch grounding me in the reality of our shared moment.

The intimacy is interrupted by the sudden creak of the bedroom door opening, a stark reminder of the world outside our bubble of emotions. We break apart reluctantly, turning to see Noah Stilinski standing there, his expression a mix of surprise and concern. His gaze flickers between us, understanding dawning slowly as he takes in the scene before him.

"I... I need to go sit down to wrap my head around this," he says softly, his voice thick with unspoken questions and paternal worry. With a brief nod to us both, he retreats downstairs, leaving Stiles and me staring at each other in a mixture of disbelief and joy.

"Fuck!" Stiles breathes out, a nervous laugh escaping him as he runs a hand through his hair, still trying to process everything. I can’t help but chuckle softly, the tension easing as we share a moment of raw, unfiltered emotion.

Our hands find each other naturally, fingers intertwining as we sit. The weight of what lies ahead hangs heavy in the air, but so does the undeniable bond between us. Stiles turns to me, his eyes searching mine for reassurance, for confirmation that we're in this together.

"Are you okay?" he finally asks, his voice soft yet filled with a myriad of emotions—love, concern, excitement, and a touch of fear.

I squeeze his hand gently, offering him a reassuring smile. "I'm okay. We're okay," I assure him, knowing that while the road ahead won't be easy, we have each other to lean on.

Stiles leans in, pressing a tender kiss to my forehead, a silent promise of his commitment and love. "I love you," he murmurs against my skin, his words a soothing balm to the uncertainties swirling around us.

"I love you too," I reply softly, feeling a surge of warmth and gratitude for the man beside me, the father of our unborn child.

I sit nervously on the edge of Scott's bed, my legs bouncing with restless energy as I clutch onto the small gift box in my lap. Each breath feels strained, the anticipation of his arrival causing my heart to pound relentlessly against my ribs. The room is cloaked in a hushed stillness, broken only by the soft murmur of the night seeping through the open window, casting shadows across the room.

The door creaks open, and Scott steps into the room, his brow furrowing in concern as he takes in my anxious posture. “Baby? What's going on?" His voice is gentle, a beacon of calm in the midst of my swirling emotions as he crosses the room to stand before me.

I inhale deeply, trying to steady my trembling hands as I extend the gift box towards him. "Scott, I... I got you something," I manage to say, my voice wavering with nerves that betray the weight of what lies within.

He accepts the box with a curious tilt of his head, settling beside me on the bed. His fingers trace the edges of the wrapping paper, his expression shifting from curiosity to confusion as he uncovers the smaller box nestled within.

Opening it, his breath catches in his throat as he sees the pregnancy test lying inside. The reality of the situation crashes over us like a tidal wave, and I watch his eyes widen with shock and disbelief.

"Scott, I... I got you something," I manage to say, my voice betraying the turmoil within. He accepts the box with a curious expression, eyebrows quirking as I always call him Scotty not Scott, his fingers careful as he begins to unwrap it.

As he peels back the layers of wrapping paper, confusion clouds his features, replaced by disbelief when he reveals the smaller box inside. His breath catches in his throat as he opens it, revealing the pregnancy test nestled within. The implications hit him like a tidal wave, and I watch as shock ripples through him, his eyes widening with a mix of emotions.

The initial shock gives way to concern, his brows furrowing as he processes the reality before him. A flicker of fear crosses his face, accompanied by a tentative hope that he struggles to grasp amidst the overwhelming news. His gaze shifts from the test to me and back again, searching for words that seem to elude him in the moment.

"Scott," I begin softly, tears welling in my eyes as I reach out to touch his hand, seeking connection in the midst of our shared uncertainty. "I'm pregnant."

The words hang heavy in the air, a palpable silence settling between us as he absorbs the weight of my revelation. His hand tightens around mine, a gesture of both support and seeking solace in the face of the unknown.

"Are you... sure?" he finally manages to ask, his voice a whisper laced with disbelief. He meets my gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of awe and apprehension, struggling to comprehend the enormity of what lies ahead for us.

I nod slowly, my own voice trembling as I reaffirm, "Yes, Scott. It's yours."

He pulls me into his arms, holding me close as if to anchor himself amidst the whirlwind of emotions crashing over us. His touch is gentle yet firm, a testament to his resolve to face this unexpected turn in our lives together.

"I... I don't know what to say," he admits quietly against my hair, his breath warm against my skin. "But we'll figure this out. Together."

I close my eyes, tears streaming down my cheeks as I cling to him, overwhelmed by a rush of relief and gratitude for his steadfast presence. In that intimate moment, sitting on his bed with the pregnancy test between us, I find solace in the certainty that no matter the challenges ahead, having Scott by my side fills me with a deep sense of hope and determination. 

“I love you so much.”

I stand by the window in Derek's loft, the city lights twinkling in the distance, but my mind is consumed by a different kind of sparkle—a mixture of hope and fear that knots my stomach. The thought had been creeping in lately, a hunch I couldn't shake off, but anxiety held me back from taking the test. What if it wasn't the right time? What if Derek wasn't ready?

Derek enters the room, his presence a comforting solidity in the midst of my swirling thoughts. His sharp gaze locks onto me, sensing my unease despite my attempt at composure.

"Hey," he says softly, his voice a soothing balm that momentarily eases my nerves.

I turn to face him, trying to hide the turmoil beneath a forced smile. "Hi," I reply, my voice catching slightly.

He takes a step closer, concern etched into the lines of his brow. "Are you okay?" he asks, his tone gentle yet probing.

I hesitate, unsure how to voice the uncertainty gnawing at me. "I... I've been feeling off lately," I finally admit, my gaze flickering away from his intense scrutiny.

His expression softens, understanding dawning in his eyes as he pieces together my unspoken words. "You think..." he begins, his voice trailing off as he seems to catch on to the implications.

I nod slowly, unable to meet his gaze as tears well up in my eyes. "I think I might be pregnant," I confess in a hushed tone, the weight of the admission hanging heavy in the air.

Derek's breath catches, his shoulders stiffening imperceptibly before he takes a deep breath, closing the distance between us in a few long strides. He pulls me into his arms, holding me close as if to shield me from the uncertainties swirling around us.

"I had a feeling," he admits quietly against my hair, his voice a mixture of awe and tenderness. "But I didn't want to push you.” 

Relief floods through me at his understanding, his acceptance offering a lifeline in the sea of doubt. "I've been scared," I confess, burying my face against his chest as tears spill over. "Scared of how you'd react.”

Derek's arms tighten around me, his embrace offering reassurance and warmth. "I'm here," he murmurs, his voice a promise. "Whatever happens, we'll face it together.”

In that vulnerable moment, surrounded by Derek's comforting presence, I feel a surge of courage. Slowly, I pull back, meeting his gaze with a tentative smile. "I think I should take the test," I say softly, my voice wavering with a mix of hope and apprehension.

He nods, his expression unwavering as he brushes a stray tear from my cheek. "Let's find out," he agrees, his voice steady. Moments later, we stand in the bathroom, the air thick with anticipation. I take the test, heart hammering in my chest as I wait for the result. When the faint positive line appears, tears of joy and relief spill down my cheeks.

I emerge from the bathroom, the test in trembling hands, and Derek's eyes lock onto mine. Without a word, he crosses the room in quick strides, falling to his knees before me. His hands gently push my shirt up, his lips pressing tender kisses against my barely-there bump.

Emotion swells within me—tension and uncertainty giving way to a rush of overwhelming love and tenderness. Derek's actions speak volumes, his touch a promise of unwavering support and boundless affection.

"I love you," he murmurs against my stomach, his voice reverent and filled with awe. 

Tears blur my vision as I run my fingers through his hair, overwhelmed by the depth of his emotions. "I love you too," I whisper, feeling the weight of our shared journey settling into a tender certainty.

In that intimate moment, surrounded by love and hope, I know that no matter what lies ahead, Derek and I will face it together, our bond strengthened by the miracle growing within me.

I stand in the hallway of Liam's house, clutching the pregnancy test tightly in my hand. The hallway feels strangely quiet, the air heavy with anticipation and nerves. Liam had just returned from a late-night patrol with Scott, and I knew I had to tell him, but the fear of his reaction kept me rooted in place.

The front door creaks open, and Liam steps inside, his exhaustion evident in the lines of his face and the weariness in his movements. His eyes meet mine, concern flickering across his features as he senses my tension.

"Hey, what's going on?" he asks softly, his voice filled with genuine worry as he approaches me.

I take a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest as I hold out the pregnancy test towards him. "Liam, we need to talk," I manage to say, my voice trembling with nerves.

He takes the test from me, confusion clouding his expression as he examines it. Recognition dawns slowly, his eyes widening with shock as he realises what it means. The test falls from his hands, forgotten, as he turns to face me, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly.

"Are... are you serious?" he finally manages to ask, his voice cracking with emotion. His hands tremble slightly as he reaches out to touch my arm, seeking confirmation amidst the whirlwind of thoughts racing through his mind.

I nod slowly, tears welling up in my eyes as I meet his gaze with a mix of fear and hope. "Yes, Liam. I'm pregnant," I admit softly, the weight of the truth hanging heavy in the space between us.

His breath hitches, his eyes never leaving mine as he struggles to process the enormity of the news. "But how...?" he begins, his voice trailing off as he searches for the right words.

“Well, when a man and woman love each other a lot-“ I start to say and he rolls his eyes playfully, punching me in the arm lightly so I continue, joking aside, ”I... I didn't know for sure until now," I explain, tears suddenly welling up in my eyes as I try to convey the intensity of my emotions. "But I had a feeling, and I finally took the test."

Liam wraps his arms around me suddenly, pulling me close as if he's afraid I might slip away. "I... I don't know what to say," he admits against my hair, his voice thick with a mix of disbelief and overwhelming love.

Tears of relief mingle with the uncertainty that still lingers between us, but in that moment, held in Liam's embrace, I know that we'll face whatever comes next together. Our journey into parenthood may be unexpected and filled with challenges, but knowing Liam is by my side fills me with a profound sense of strength and hope for our future.

As we stand there in the hallway, wrapped in each other's arms, I feel a wave of gratitude for the love we share and the new life growing within me—a testament to our bond and the possibilities that lie ahead.

The first rays of dawn peek through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over Isaac's bedroom. I wake slowly, cocooned in warmth and the comforting weight of Isaac's arm draped protectively over me. His steady heartbeat beneath my ear lulls me into a serene half-awake state, where for a fleeting moment, everything feels perfect.

"Morning," Isaac murmurs sleepily, his voice husky with sleep as he brushes his nose across my shoulder before pressing a kiss there, loosening his grip on me so I can roll over and face the surly haired werewolf, feeling at peace and oh so in love.

I smile softly, relishing the tranquility of the moment before reality nudges its way into my consciousness. But, of course, as if on cue, a subtle queasiness stirs in my stomach, a sensation I’ve been experiencing the last few days. Panic flares briefly, but I try to dismiss it, not wanting to disturb the peace between us.

Isaac senses my restlessness, his gaze searching mine with concern. "You okay sweetheart?" he asks gently, his thumb brushing lightly over my cheek.

I nod slightly, swallowing down the rising unease. "Just... feeling a bit off," I admit reluctantly, not wanting to worry him unnecessarily.

But before I can say more, a sudden wave of nausea grips me, and I bolt out of bed with startling urgency, breaking free from Isaac's embrace. "I... I'll be right back," I manage to choke out, mouth watering warningly, my voice strained as I hurriedly make my way to the ensuite bathroom.

Isaac's confusion turns to alarm as he watches me go, the sound of my retching echoing through the closed door. He's by my side in an instant, his concern overriding any sense of personal space as he pushes open the door to find me leaning heavily over the toilet.

"What's wrong?" he asks urgently, his hands hovering anxiously over me as he assesses the situation.

I lean over the toilet, gasping for breath as I struggle to regain my composure. "I don’t know, ive been sic every morning for the last week. I can’t stand certain food anymore… I just want ice cream” I’m suddenly crying, my voice barely audible over the rush of emotions.

Isaac's eyes widen in shock, his hand coming to rest gently on my back as he kneels beside me. “Baby, are you… are we pregnant?” he repeats incredulously, the reality of my words sinking in slowly.

Those tears just stream down my cheeks harder, unable to process what Isaac is saying but somewhere deep in my gut knowing he’s right. "I've been feeling off for a while," I explain haltingly, the weight of the confession hanging heavy in the air. “But I thought it was a bug. Didn’t want to worry you.”

He pulls me into his arms, holding me close as if to shield me from the uncertainty that now defines our future. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he murmurs against my hair, his voice thick with a mixture of awe and concern.

"I didn't want to worry you," I repeat softly, my heart aching with the fear of his reaction and the overwhelming rush of emotions coursing through me.

Isaac's embrace tightens around me, his touch a reassuring anchor amidst the whirlwind of uncertainty. "We'll figure this out," he reassures me, his voice steady and filled with determination, “I want to start a family with you.” 

“You do?” 

“I am in love with you. Only you.” 

“I’m in love with you too.”

I lie in bed, tossing and turning, my stomach churning with waves of nausea, sweating and just feeling generally shit. The clock ticks relentlessly, each passing minute feeling like an eternity as I wait for Jordan to return from work. I've been feeling off for days now, a probable stomach bug or stress from all the shit that has been happening in Beacon Hills recently. 

The front door finally creaks open, and I hear Jordan's familiar footsteps padding down the hallway. Relief washes over me as he enters the bedroom, his presence a comforting presence in the dimly lit room. He quickly strips down to his boxers before he slips under the covers beside me, his warmth immediately soothing.

His arm wraps around my waist, pulling me back against his chest, relief washing through me as if he can heal me with just his touch. In my drowsy state, I lean into his touch, seeking solace in his embrace. His hand rests flat against my stomach, and I wince slightly at the sensation but some of the nausea fades and a soft sigh of relief escapes me.

"Jordan," I murmur, my voice thick with sleep and discomfort.

He shifts slightly, making me roll onto my back to face him. His bright eyes search mine, concern etched in his furrowed brow. "When were you going to tell me?" he asks softly, his voice tinged with a hint of worry. His hand cupping my jaw, thumb brushing lovingly over my fever flushed cheek.

Confusion knots my brow as I try to make sense of his question. "Tell you what?" I manage to ask, my voice laced with exhaustion and confusion.

His gaze lingers on me, his expression softening as realisation slowly dawns in his eyes. “Sunshine…” his breath comes out in a soft gasp, “Sunshine, you’re pregnant," he states quietly, his voice filled with a mix of awe and certainty.

My breath catches in my throat, my heart skipping a beat at his words. "What?" I whisper, stunned by the revelation.

Jordan's hand slides from my cheek down to my stomach, his touch gentle yet purposeful. "I can sense it," he explains quietly, his fingers tracing a soothing pattern against my skin. “I… I don’t know how but I can sense it… I can feel the change in you."

Tears well up in my eyes, a rush of emotions overwhelming me—surprise, disbelief, and a flicker of hope. "I... I didn't know," I admit softly, my voice trembling with the weight of his words, “I thought it was the flu.”

He leans closer, his forehead resting against mine. "It's okay," he murmurs, his breath warm against my lips. “I love you baby, we’re gonna have a baby.”

He’s shuffling around until he’s laying on his back, my head resting on his chest as he knows how soothing his heartbeat can be, especially when I can’t sleep and before I know it I’m drifting off to sleep with one thought on my mind. 

“You’re gonna be the best dad ever.” 

Teen Wolf Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

@alexxavicry @guacam011y @fandom-princess-forevermore @bellatrixxmarierose

[yanderestarangel]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐌𝐊1 | 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓

TW: smut, vaginal sex, afab anatomy, no pronouns used other than "you", m!masturbation, bloodkink, rough sex, degradation, stalking, small compliments, halloween themes, knife!play.

♡ 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓 ♡

➛ 𝐁𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐚𝐬 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅

➛ 𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐕𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐃𝐀 𝐚𝐬 𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄

➛ 𝐒𝐘𝐙𝐎𝐓𝐇 𝐚𝐬 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄

— 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅!𝐁𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐗 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

You were Little Red Riding Hood, on vacation from college you decided to walk through the forest, but soon got lost, finding the big bad wolf Bi Han, shirtless, black pants, and smiling showing his sharp fangs. "-Lost, hmm? Well, how lucky for me to have stumbled upon such a delicious treat in my forest. Tell me, little boy, have you ever been devoured by a wolf before?" -Bi Han licked his lips, his eyes fixed on your cleavage as he approached you, his voice was low and seductive as he spoke. He reached out, gently tracing his finger along the curve of your breasts. The sensation sent shivers down his spine, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through his veins.

"-It seems that Little Red Riding Hood wants to be devoured, by me." -His voice was a dangerous whisper, full of promises of pleasure and danger, as he continued to run his fingers over your exposed skin, a soft moan escaped your lips. The touch, so forbidden and yet so alluring, awakened a primal desire within you.

Bi Han pressed your lips against his, his kiss possessing an intoxicating mix of dominance and tenderness. His hands roamed freely over your body, his touch igniting a fire inside you that threatened to consume you entirely, the forest became his playground, a backdrop for your lustful encounter with the dreaded Big Bad Wolf.

As the two of you locked in a passionate embrace, the sounds of nature mixed with your moans of pleasure. Hiis hands explored every inch of your body, leaving a trail of desire. His dress was discarded lightly, the cool air caressed your bare skin as you gave yourself completely to his touch.

The forest became a symphony of pleasure as Bi Han's lips trailed down his neck, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses. He took his time, savoring every inch of your body as if he were indulging in the most decadent feast. His tongue caressed your sensitive skin, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

"-You're so wet, little one. Do you want me to take you right here, in the middle of the forest? To fuck you hard until you can't walk in a straight line?" With a hunger that matched his namesake, Bi Han's hands went to his waist, lifting your effortlessly and pressing your against a nearby tree. The rough bark scratched her back.

"-I can see how eager you are for some...attention" -He purred, his voice rough and seductive. His strong hands roamed your body, tracing the curves of your ass and the delicate lace of her panties, the sensation sent shivers of pleasure through you, making your pussy throb with anticipation.

As he pressed his bulging cock against your clothed pussy, you couldn't suppress a moan. The friction caused by the fabric only increased his desire, and you could feel the wetness running down the lace, staining it with your arousal.

Bi Han's lips curled into a mischievous smile as he felt her wetness against his hardness. He leaned closer, his warm breath brushing your ear. "-You like feeling my dick against your pussy, don't you? You're such a naughty little thing, getting all wet for me."

His hands tightened on his waist, pulling you closer to him, the pressure between your bodies becoming more intense.

Every touch, every brush of his cock against your sensitive flesh, sent waves of pleasure through his body. You were completely at his mercy, lost in the heady mix of pleasure and danger.

Bi Han pulled your panties aside, exposing your glistening pussy to his hungry gaze, your eyes met his, and with one quick thrust, Bi Han filled you completely, stretching you to your limit. The sensation was overwhelming, a mixture of pleasure and pain that made you plunge into a haze of bliss. He began to move, his hips rocking in a steady rhythm, each thrust hitting all the right spots. Finally, with a guttural moan, Bi Han released inside you, his hot seed filling you completely. The wave of pleasure crashed over you, your body convulsing as you surfed the waves of ecstasy. As you both caught your breath, Bi Han leaned in, placing a possessive kiss on your lips.

"-Remember, little one, this forest is mine. And now, so are you."

And with that, he disappeared into the shadows, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

— 𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄!𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐕𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐃𝐀 𝐗 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

Tomas Vrbada was a lonely vampire and you were a peasant, walking around his castle, picking some fruit, soon Tomas sees you, luring you to his castle using his curiosity for the occult.

You soon enter his dark castle. "-Oh, a little human peasant in my castle?" -Tomas spoke calmly, but excited to finally have company, wearing the black cloak as he towered over you, he smiled, his eyes shining with a mixture of mischief and desire. He took a step closer, his gaze fixed on your breasts bouncing with hunger.

"-There is no need to apologize, my dear. You stumbled upon my humble abode and I must say that you piqued my interest" -He said, his voice low and seductive.

As you backed away,Tomas followed, his long strides closing the distance between you. His eyes never left your chest, his own arousal becoming evident as he watched your breasts bounce seductively beneath the fabric of your peasant dress. Tomas reached out his hand, brushing your arm gently, sending a shiver down your spine, his touch was cold but electric, lighting a fire inside you.

"-There is something in you, A certain innocence that begs to be corrupted. Will I be the one to awaken your darkest desires?" -Tomas's smile widened, his fangs gleaming in the castle's dim light. He moved closer, his hand still resting on your arm, his touch sending waves of excitement and uncertainty through your body. "-You may be here for fruit, but I feel like there's something else that draws you to me.." -Tomas' gaze traveled to your exposed chest, his eyes filled with desire. "-Your beauty is undeniable" -he admitted, his voice hoarse.. "-And its unique nature only adds to the intrigue." His fingers gently ran down your arm. "-Would you allow me to show you a world beyond the limits of the mundane? A world full of pleasure and ecstasy?"

The vampire moved closer, his lips brushing his ear as he spoke in a low, sensual tone. "-I can promise you an experience unlike any other, my dear. One that will awaken your deepest desires and fulfill your wildest fantasies. Will you take my hand and let me guide you into the darkness?"

Tomas' eyes shone with hunger and excitement as he sank his fangs into your neck, injecting his vampiric venom into you. The poison coursed through your veins, sharpening your senses and awakening an insatiable lust within you. His body shook as the poison took effect, your pussy instantly became wet with desire.

With a quick, deliberate movement,Tomas guided you to the goth couch, his hard cock pressing into your clothed pussy. He watched with dark intensity as you began to rub your wetness against his throbbing member, the friction sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You both moaned in unison, the heady sounds filling the air.

Tomas's hands roamed his body, his touch electric and demanding. He ran his fingers down the curve of her back, holding your waist possessively. His lips captured yours in a passionate, hungry kiss, his tongue exploring the depths of your mouth. The taste of his pre-cum mixed with his saliva, intensifying the sensations pulsing through you.

As you continued to grind against him, your arousal increasing with each movement, Tomas's grip tightened. He guided your hips, increasing the pressure and the pace. His wetness coated his shaft, the anticipation of penetration reaching an exquisite peak.

But just as the pleasure threatened to consume you, Tomas pulled away, his eyes filled with perverse desire."-Not yet my dear, we have all the time in the world to savor every moment."

With a devilish grin, Tomas shifted position, his body now hovering over his. He trailed kisses along your neck, his fangs brushing your skin, heightening your arousal even more. His hands explored the curves of your body, teasing and caressing every inch.

"-Tell me, my dear... what else do you long for? What other pleasures should I grant you?"

Tomas's eyes burned with a mix of desire and hunger as he exposed your dripping wet pussy. He didn't waste any time, slowly but surely pushing his thick cock inside you. A gasp escaped your lips as you felt the fullness of him, stretching you deliciously with each inch that entered your tight warmth.

Your moans filled the air, a symphony of pleasure intertwining with the sound of Tomas's own whimpering. The slow, deliberate thrusts sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, causing your walls to clench around him in a desperate attempt to pull him deeper.

As you rode his cock, the sensations became overwhelming. The friction of his member sliding in and out of your wetness sent bolts of pleasure shooting through you. Your hips moved in sync with his, grinding and gyrating in a desperate search for release.

Tomas's hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements, urging you to take him deeper. The intensity of his gaze never wavered as he watched you ride him, his own pleasure evident in the way his breathing quickened and his muscles tensed beneath you.

The room was filled with the sounds of your bodies coming together, the wet, slapping noises of your skin meeting, mingling with your moans and gasps of pleasure. The air grew thick with the heady scent of sex, fueling your desire even further.

With every thrust, every movement, you could feel the tension building, the coil of pleasure tightening within you. It was a slow burn, an exquisite torture, as you both approached the peak of ecstasy. And when it finally crashed over you, it was like a tidal wave, consuming you both in a symphony of pleasure and release. Tomas's fangs sank into your neck once again, the mixture of pain and pleasure sending shockwaves through your body. As he drank your blood, his praise filled the air, his voice a sultry melody in your ear.

"-Mmm, my sweet, intoxicating feast..." -he murmured "-Your blood, so delicious... so alluring." Tomas continued to drink, his lips moving against your skin, his tongue lapping up every drop.

The sensation of his mouth on your neck combined with the relentless pounding of his cock inside you pushed you further into a state of ecstasy. Your pussy tightened around him, milking his member with every powerful movement.

Tomas's grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he matched your increased pace. His breath was hot against your skin as he whispered in between sips of your blood. "-You are exquisite, my sweetheart, so willing, so eager to please. I can feel you clenching around me, taking me deeper. Such a good little slut."

His words only served to fuel your pleasure, igniting a fire within you that burned hotter and brighter with each passing moment. The sound of your bodies colliding, the wetness of your juices mingling with the scent of blood and sex, created a symphony of desire that echoed throughout the room.

As Tomas continued to drink from you, his thrusts grew more demanding, more urgent. The pleasure built to an unbearable crescendo, the coil of need within you ready to snap. And when it did, it was a cataclysmic release, both of pleasure and blood, that left you breathless and spent in his embrace, it was like an explosion, a burst of pleasure that radiated through every fiber of your being. Your body convulsed, your pussy clenching around Tomas's cock in a mind-shattering orgasm. The room seemed to spin as you both rode the waves of ecstasy, lost in a world of pure, unadulterated pleasure. "-You're my sweet little vampire now."

— 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄!𝐒𝐘𝐙𝐎𝐓𝐇 𝐗 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

It was Halloween night, all your friends had gone out to a party, but you decided to stay at home because of rumors of a new ghostfsce. But soon soon feeling watched. You heard the phone ring, with a thick, modified voice on the other end.

"-Hi (Y/N)...alone tonight baby? I'm going to make you scream." -Syzoth, the new ghostface, spoke on the line, it sounded like a threat but with lust. You soon get pissed off with the unknown modulated and thick voice on the other end of the line. "-Oh, baby, don't be mad. It's just a little game I like to play. I love seeing fear mixed with desire in your eyes. It gets me so fucking hard." Syzoth taunted, his voice dripping with sadistic pleasure.

The sound of skin against skin filled the air, the unmistakable rhythm of a handjob. It was as if he was pleasuring himself while tormenting you. His laughter echoed through the phone, a wicked symphony of dominance and arousal. As much as you wanted to resist, a part of you couldn't help but feel a tingle of excitement. The combination of fear and forbidden pleasure was intoxicating, igniting a fire within you. Your anger mingled with a growing anticipation, and your body responded to the sounds on the other end of the line. "-Fuck, baby, you have no idea what you're getting yourself into. I'll make you scream, but it won't be from fear alone. You're going to beg me for more." -Syzoth responded, his voice filled with a sinister promise. "-You can call me your worst nightmare, your darkest desire."

"-Just imagine my fingers slipping inside you, making your little pussy wet and desperate for more, I'm going to take you on a wild ride tonight, one that will make you scream and beg for more. You can resist if you want, but we both know deep down that you crave this, that you want to submit to my every command." -He continues talking, while you heard small distinct moans from the killer's modulated voice, while you heard the sound of handjobs increase on the other side. "-I'm the one who's been watching you, fantasizing about you. I know all your dirty secrets, your deepest desires. And tonight, I'm going to fulfill them, you can call me your worst nightmare, your darkest desire."

You hang up the phone, the explanation and fear ran through your body, then you hear footsteps around the house, seeing the kitchen glass door completely broken, he was already inside your house, it was a game of cat and mouse now. Syzoth, wearing the Ghostface mask, chased after you as you desperately tried to escape his clutches. Fear and anticipation surged through your veins, causing your heart to race and your breath to come in ragged gasps. But no matter how hard you tried to outrun him, his predatory instincts allowed him to catch up to you, sending you crashing onto the floor.

As you lay there, your body trembling, Syzoth loomed over you, his sadistic smile visible through the eyeholes of the mask. The glint of the knife in his hand sent a thrilling chill down your spine, heightening the intensity of the moment. Your eyes darted between his face and the sight of his hard, throbbing cock, and a mixture of fear and arousal flooded your senses.

With a wicked grin, Syzoth slowly removed his mask, revealing his handsome, yet twisted face. His eyes held a dark, almost hypnotic allure that drew you in, making you feel both captivated and vulnerable. The sight of his face, combined with the dangerous lust in his eyes, sent a surge of desire coursing through your body. With a swift motion, he tore at your clothes, exposing your breasts and your wet, eager pussy to his hungry gaze.

The sharp edge of the knife pressed against your throat, adding a dangerous element to the already intense situation, your arousal and making you moan with a combination of delight and agony.

As Syzoth positioned himself between your legs, his thick, throbbing cock poised at your entrance, you could feel the weight of his dominance, of his control, in every touch. He relished in the degradation, in the power he held over you, and you found yourself drawn to this twisted dynamic, craving more of his touch, more of his dominance.

Without hesitation, he pushed himself inside you, the sensation of his hardness stretching you, filling you, mingling with the sharp pleasure of the knife against your throat. The pain and pleasure mingled together, creating a heady mix that sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Syzoth continued to thrust into you, his movements becoming more urgent. Each stroke pushed you closer to the edge, your body responding eagerly to his touch. The pleasure built within you, threatening to consume you entirely, as you surrendered yourself completely to the intoxicating mix of pain, pleasure, and submission, he continues to thrust into you with a force that borders on roug. "-You're just a filthy little slut, aren't you?" -Syzoth sneers, his voice dripping with contempt. "-You love being used like this, don't you? Begging for my cock while I hold this knife against your delicate skin."

"-Look at you (Y/N), all spread open, taking my cock like the whore you are, you're nothing more than a fuck toy for my pleasure." -With every thrust, every word, he exerts his power over you, leaving you completely at his mercy. The intensity of the moment consumes you, erasing any trace of inhibition or shame. You exist solely to please him. You got even wetter, your pussy milked Syzoth's cock, making him laugh. "-You like being degraded, don't you, you filthy little slut?" -Syzoth growls, his voice laced with dark pleasure.

"-You're nothing but a fuck toy for my amusement. Look at you, all exposed and wet, begging for my cock, you're so desperate for the pain and pleasure I give you... Pathetic. You're nothing more than a plaything for my sadistic pleasure, I'll use you however I please, and you'll take it willingly, won't you? Because deep down, you're just a filthy little whore who craves my rough touch."

As Syzoth takes out his cell phone, a sinister grin spreads across his face. He relishes in the power he holds over you, using the device to capture your vulnerability and submission. With a firm grip on your hair, he positions you face down, presenting your backside to him.

"-Look at the camera, you little slut." -Syzoth hisses with a sadistic edge. "-Show me that you're nothing more than a dirty fucktoy, ready to be used and discarded. Smile for me, my little whore."

As Syzoth continues to pound into you, he taunts you further, his voice dripping with dominance. "-You're just a tight hole for me." he sneers. "-You exist solely to be fucked and filled. Moan for the camera, let everyone see what a filthy slut you truly are."

The sound of the camera clicking in the background serves as a constant reminder of your exposure, heightening your arousal and pushing you further into subspace. His words, laced with degradation and desire, fuel your own pleasure, igniting a fiery desire within you.

With each command and each thrust, you feel yourself losing control, surrendering completely to the dark desires that consume you. The pleasure and degradation blend together, creating an intoxicating cocktail of sensations that overwhelm your senses.

As he nears his own climax, his thrusts become more urgent, driving you both closer to the edge. The camera continues to capture the explicit moments, freezing them in time as a testament to the intensity of your encounter.

Finally, with a primal groan, Syzoth releases his hot load deep inside you, claiming you as his own. The sensation of his warm cum filling you triggers your own orgasm, sending shockwaves of pleasure cascading through your body.

Syzoth, still in his Ghostface costume, gazes down at you with a mixture of satisfaction and dominance. He knows that he has pushed your boundaries and taken you to the edge of lust. "-I'll see you next Halloween (Y/N)."

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[dipperscavern]

more thoughts about this.. a sinister grin has appeared on my face

you honestly don’t remember what it was about. something along the lines of the lannisters taking you by surprise during the night, or sending you sansa’s head in the morning. either way, whatever it was had you shooting up, a hand on your chest as you’re pulled from a dead sleep. fear engulfs you, tendrils crawling up your spine, suffocating as they enclose around your neck.

the room was dark, candles having been put out long ago when you both retired for the night, bodies desperate for sleep. it’s ironic now, you insisted on putting the candles out, saying something about how you’d both sleep better in the dark. and in this moment, you wish more than anything that they were here, illuminating the tent with a yellow-tinted glow. your mind is hazy with fear, as your instincts scream at you to get some light on — a primal urge to need to see your surroundings in case you weren’t really safe. the rational part of your mind that’s just waking up tells you there’s no need. you’re with robb, he’s right next to you. he’d kill for you- die for you. you’re safe.

it’s like he can hear your thoughts. a hand reaches out for you, bringing you out of your head as you look in its direction, forgetting you won’t be able to see its owner. his hand is blindly looking for you, a half-asleep robb doing his best to assess the disruption of your sleep. you swallow, moving to wrap your hand around his. his touch anchors you, your mind focusing on the warmth emanating from him, instead of the nightmare that had you awake in the first place.

“y’okay?”

his voice breaks through the thick atmosphere, slicing its way through the small bubble you’ve built around yourself. part of you wants to tell him the truth, that no, you’re not okay. there’s surprise armies & headless men haunting your dreams, and you need him to be a big bad wolf and chase them off for you. but the other part of you knows he’d stay up as long as it took to make you feel better, and he gets so little sleep as is. it takes a lot to drag him from his work, and actually have him sleep a whole night through- without waking up in the middle of it to fuss over his war maps. the rational side of you reminds you of his devotion, and how he’d never mind helping you — which is true, he wouldn’t, but rationalism doesn’t win this time.

“yes- yes, m’fine, go back to sleep.”

“you’re a bad liar.”

you dread him not believing you, but a small, guilty part of you is glad he doesn’t, that he knows you so well. that he knows your hurried tone, your irregular pattern of breathing means you are definitely not fine.

what would have made you roll your eyes any other time, has you huffing out a breath of laughter as he sits up. the hand of his you aren’t holding comes to soothingly rub up & down your back, mimicking when you & catelyn would do the same to comfort him.

“c’mon, talk to me pretty. what’s got you up, hm?”

his gentle coaxing does wonders to break your resolve, cutting through your “will of steel” like butter. you sigh.

“no- robb, it’s silly.”

“thats not what i asked,” his tone grows firm, authority dripping from his voice, “whats botherin’ you?”

“jus’ a nightmare.”

your voice is quiet, borderline guilty. you & robb are at war- you’ve killed people with zero hesitation, stood up to men twice your size, and a nightmare is your kryptonite? it makes you feel silly, and you don’t want to bother robb with it, he should be able to rely on his lady.

“they took us by surprise. while we slept.”

robb is quick to reassure you. “anyone that wants to get to you has to get past me.”

you hum in agreement, body relaxing at his words. you already knew this, but hearing him say it made you believe it. you take comfort in knowing greywind is laid asleep by the door- you sleep guarded by not one, but two wolves.

“how can i fix it?”

the silence is palpable as you search for an answer, mind mulling over all the solutions you could think of, trying to pick the one that would settle you most. you find one soon enough, hoping your request isn’t too much to ask.

“make me forget? please?”

robb murmurs agreement, and even with darkness coating the room- you can hear his smile. it’s no secret that robb desires you. every hour of every day he thinks about you, & his favorite thing to do is fix your problems. what better thing is there than doing both at the same time? and plus, you asked so nicely…

so he makes you forget. his lips trail all over your body, licking & sucking at any skin they can reach, making your brain mushy with his touch. he slides his fingers into the warm, wet place between your thighs, making you gush all over his hand to prep you to take his cock. all the while, he praises you, reassurance falling from his lips while he lines his cock with your entrance, making you squirm from the sensitivity.

“robb-“

“shh- i know, pretty. s’okay, i’ve got you. i’ve got you.”

& afterwards, when you’ve cum twice and lay spent in robb’s arms, sleep pulling you closer — you secretly thank the gods. you thank them for nightmares & wolves.

[goldsbitch]

Right? p7

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

summary: Y/N is a photographer for McLaren F1 team. Hard working, goal oriented professional who would never put her career in jeopardy for some stupid crush, right?

You were a professional. That's what you used to believe, right?

One would wonder how would the teenage version of you felt seeing that you're putting your career on the line because of a boy. Was the pride, dignity and all the hard work worth a one night stand? All those years of hard work, blown away in one night.

It was a mix of ultimate regret and and a massive fuck you to your own sense of what was right or wrong. How could a unique memory like the one Lando gave you last weekend be wrong?

Your heart sank the moment you saw the first photo. And another and another. Your arrival to his house was documented from several angles.

The mystery girl. You were not sure whether to scream or cry. It was just a matter of time before someone would make the connection.

If you were to fall from grace and loose your job, you'd at least try to save your dignity over there. Many people before you had made these types of mistakes. You were not the first one nor last one. But before you made the dreaded call to your boss, you changed your mind back and forth seventy times, cursed yourself out loud in public, and at one point even slapped yourself in front of a mirror. There was absolutely no way you'd ever tell your family. They held you too highly and the fear of disappointing them was too big. Your mother's kind reassuring words were not something you needed to hear in the near future. But your boss, the one that gave you the chance in the first place, deserved to know it from you. After all she did for you, how much of a role model she had been, she deserved to be told directly by you. After all, she was the one who taught you that the worst thing to do when there is a fuck up is to try and lie about it to the team. Open door policy. This was a fuck up. A good one. The best one, right?

Lando called you few times. You did not answer.

Alessia was a mentor to you. Italian super boss who left the Ferrari team to run the McLaren media team. She liked you. Really did. So when you called her on a Sunday evening, she picked up and then spend a good hour on the phone with you. You told her everything, from start to the end. She was surprised, told you that it was your fault that you had compromised your job...but, she did not judge. Understood, as if she knew what you were describing. You dared not to ask.

To your surprise, there wasn't even one moment where she would suggest firing you. On the contrary, together you devised a plan for diversion of attention. Took one of the secret fake social media profiles you had in the database, for moments like these. She also had few prominent gossip profiles set up, which were now used to feed the curious crowd with a diversion - blame a fake person and they will be happy for a moment and then move on. It was not the first time this had been done for Lando, but for the first time without his knowledge or request. And of course, for someone who was a part of the team.

You were also instructed to get rid of all the clothes or things you had on you when you went to his house. Oh and you got a hair cut. Not something too dramatic, but your long hair that used to fall to the middle of your back was now a wolf cut with proper bangs, done hastily on a Monday morning by a private hair dresser.

Alessia was also pretty blunt about the fact you had to stop the affair with Lando immediately if you wanted to keep your job. You'd be assigned either to Oscar or behind the scenes content - not Lando Norris. It was all so fast and cut with adrenaline induced fear that you dared not to object. Or even think about it.

When Lando saw those pictures in the morning, he paid little to no attention to them. Just another attempt of bad journalists to make some easy money. He was not going to give in. Only later on during the day he realized that might not be the case for you. The reality hit him when noticed all those comments during his casual stream session. Were you aware of this? Was it affecting you? Were you about to run away because of this? He decided to call you. And then few times more. When you did not respond, he figured he's just wait until he saw you at the paddock again, which was only a few days away anyway. He figured you were due to a talk about what to do next. In the meantime, he'd try to figure out his response. Because there was something very strong attracting him towards you. And he kinda liked that. At different times during his day, he had to stop himself from smiling for no reason.

By the time you both rolled back to the paddock, he was touch starved and hungry for you attention. He knew there was something stopping you from reacting to his attempts of communication, but he wasn't worried about that. He knew you had an amazing time, had your climax face still in fresh memory and most importantly, he was unapologetically sure and confident that he would sway you away from any doubts you might have by the power of his cheeky wink and few reassuring words. Mr. "not-a-worry-in-the-world" was living on his own cloud 9 while you tried to find something that would suit your new strange haircut.

The only thing he searched for was you. Walked around the paddock, pretending to be heading somewhere, several times. When he finally saw you, walking opposite of him, smile he could not contain in crept in. Was that a new haircut? First he got taken back, but then imagined how your new hair might bounce and fall to your face when you're on top of him, and he decided he was much of a fan. His fantasy of sharing a smile and lightly brushing your hands as the two of you passed vanished into thin air as soon as he realized you were not even going to look at him. In fact, it was like he was the plague you might contract just by accidentaly laying your eyes on him. As you passed and went even further away from him, he stopped, confused and somewhat annoyed. No, this was not going to just happen like that.

He turned around and marched his way right back to you - only to be very aggressively stopped by your boss. Surprised Lando could not ever watch you leave as he shared a confused look with Alessia. She simply looked at him and mouthed no. Lando didn't consider himself smart - that didn't mean he wasn't. It all made sense real quickly. He walked away without a word, the opposite way from you and still without any clue where he was actually going.

//

Your days were now cut with the same level of anxiety as you'd have during your first days at the paddock. Tripping over things, afraid to talk to anyone and generally trying to blend in or hide behind the camera. It was always a good reason why not interfere people's conversations. The fly on the wall. Because it was safe, right?

Wrong. Lando got more frustrated and mad with each hour that turned into another day. He was somehow able to contain it, but was getting more and more worried that it might start showing on his performance. He confided in Daniel during one of their padel matches. He just had to tell someone. Very rarely was he asking for advice from other drivers. But this time he had to. Daniel's stance on this was very clear and straightforward. "Mate, while it's good to have fun and all, it will never work out. Ultimately, she is working for your team and they will never allow it. Plus, she obviously does not want to risk anything anymore if she's not responding." Lando was mostly silent during the rest of their game. A little joke here and there, but with each hit to the ball he became more and more certain that he did not agree with any word that Daniel said. He had to know what you thought. This no contact thing was not good enough. He was cursing Alessia, the whole paddock and probably the rest of the world as well. Getting the number of your room was easy. Probably little too easy, he thought as he walked towards your hotel room, hoping he will not run into your boss again. It was 11PM. He assumed you'd be getting ready for bed right now.

And you were - the stress and loneliness of the past days meant frequent evening baths to ease the tension in your chest. Not that it was working in anyway. You put all your focus into work these past few days. Editing like crazy. Creating double the content that was needed. You didn't even turn most of it in. Would be too suspicious. Many photos of the team and Oscar. Not a single photo of Lando. You were on self induced probation.

The knock on the door surprised you. After a moment of second guessing, you got out of the bath, put a robe on and slowly opened the door. You genuinely did not expect to see his face. Which was strange, as he was on your mind every waking hour and in few of your dreams. He entered without saying a word. You let him in and closed the door, hoping nobody saw him enter. The anxiety was back in full speed. He thought he had a speech ready and put together - he did not count in the factor his own distraction with the fact you were obviously wearing only the robe. He never saw you this raw and human, if that was the right use of the word. Toned down to basics, no glam or work smile. Just you, young woman ready to get to bed. It was refreshing and a sight he had no idea how much he wanted before stumbling upon it. For him, there was no choice. He had to know where you stood.

"Sorry for barging in like that," he stated, trying to get you on his good side. But he was riled up with adrenaline, having hard time to contain himself. "But it's not like I exactly had other way to get to you, did I?"

You were vulnerable. As if he opened the box you managed to keep hidden. The moment he touched the door and the box lid flew away.

The two of you stood uncomfortably far away from each other. You were biting your cheek while burned you down with his stare. He waited for any reply from you, but he saw how frozen you were. His face relaxed, letting a rather concerned sigh out. Where to start?

"Are you avoiding me?" he asked.

Last time you felt this amount of stress was during your job interview. "Yes."

He nodded, disapprovingly. "Okey. Fair. May I know why?"

You wondered if he understood your situation and was just making sure, or whether he was just plain clueless. What a different world he lived in.

"Isn't that obvious? We had one dinner, and I had to cut my hair...It this goes on, I'd be bold in a month," you tried to put it in a humorous way, but it was really forced.

"Is that why?" he said, examining your hair once again from afar. "I quite like it."

It would be a lie to say that you didn't blush.

"Look, I am sorry for any trouble that caused you. We can be more careful..."

You grinned. "Careful. Right. Sounds delightful." You weren't sure where this bitterness came from.

Lando rolled his eyes, seemingly royally annoyed this time.

"Really? So you're just giving up, just like that."

He had enough of your silence.

"Ok, fine. I apologize for interrupting your evening," he said and marched to the door. You did not expect him to leave so abruptly. Panic set in, you know if was now or never - or at least a long someday. This was wrong, all of it. You caught yourself going after him and stopping him leave.

"Wait," you said with a tone of despair. It was easy to get him to stop.

"Yes?" he asked, clearly waiting for you to meet him half way.

Lost for words, again, but you pushed through this time. "It's a miracle it didn't blow up this time. Do you realize how much work went into covering it up?"

"I do. Believe me," he said with a look in his eyes that showed fatigue, as if this was not something he encountered before. "What I came here to say that even though we have had only one official date, I know that it is worth it to at least try and not bury this at the first bump. And I came here to ask you plain and simple, if this radio silence came from your head and reflects your true wishes."

You did not expect him to be direct. How refreshing to hear someone speak clearly after a run of situationships you'd have. This guy just knew how to shut you up and make you melt.

"I panicked when the pictures came out..."

"Yes, I see now that I shouldn't have left you alone with your thoughts."

"I like you," you returned the blunt honesty. If not now, then when? "I really do. You make me feel alive and I want to make you feel the same way."

His face relaxed, as if another protective wall fell down. Yet, there was a strain of pain in his eyes, something you'd never seen before.

"So why are you giving up? I thought you're someone who is willing to fight for what you want," he said, hitting where it hurt. "I've seen you go the extra mile many times before, going where your passion takes you. I sort of hoped this could be applied to us."

Never before has a guy stood before you with such a burning look and straightforward attitude. It was intimidating in the best way possible.

"I never expected you to be interested in anything beyond a fling," you said the first thing on your mind.

It was him now, lost for words a bit. You were happy a bit that you were able to return the bluntness.

"Yet, here we are," he stated simply.

"Here we are."

You both took few second of silence before you continue, finally getting your point out.

"To be honest, I did not expect the media to pick up so easily. I called Alessia, because I didn't know what to do-"

"Why didn't you call me?" he interrupted you.

"-I mean, we don't know each other that much! In the serious stuff anyway-"

"Yet."

"Yes, yet," Oh, was this man ever gonna let you finish a sentence? You took a deep breath in and continued. "I wasn't sure what to do, she on the other hand looked like she knew well enough how to proceed in this damage control and I just followed her lead. I can't jeopardise my career because of a fling, you understand that, right?"

In his eyes, it was a simple thing. "Well, let's make sure you don't."

"Loose my job?"

"Loose your job over a fling."

"Lando...you can't be saying things like that if you don't mean them seriously."

"I do mean them seriously...I meet a lot of people. Famous, gorgeous, fans and what not. I can't remember the last time I actually liked someone. What I do remember is putting other things as a priority, being lead by several different fears and ignoring this feeling. I'm getting older, I don't want to run away. Not until I've done all I could to give this a chance. If you want to, of course."

He was waiting for your response. You could see in his eyes, he was begging for an answer for a question he didn't ask.

"Of course I want to be with you! I want us to go the natural way of things and see how it goes! But, I'm afraid we don't exactly have that luxury," you said, grabbing your short hair to prove your point.

"What's the worst that could happen? In your own view?" he asked, using the same tone you recognized from his strategy meetings.

Ok, let's play it his way. "Well, I get marked as a slut, someone who does not have any real talent and I'll get fired and never get a job again."

"Interesting. Because I think the worst that could happen is us just walking away and never finding out what could have been just because we're scared of what some insecure people online will think. And of course people will doubt your talent, hell there are people still doubting Picasso's talent, so you'd be in a good club! People doubt my talent all the damn time. You can't let them control your actions? And dare I say, your talent is so obvious, even if you lost your job at McLaren there would be thousands of other jobs, maybe even better ones for you. Unlike me, you can do something that's universally needed around the world. It's not a one niche specific thing, formula 1 is not the only option for you!" he said and you felt as if he let his own insecurities creep in this time.

You desperately wanted to hug him. To ease the tension of what felt like once in a life-time conversation.

But maybe he was right? You realized you'd never heard someone verbally acknowledge your talent. Not your parent, who did not understand photography, not your colleagues, who were always focused on the professional criticism. He was the first person to do so.

"You really think that?" you asked, because why the hell not at this point.

His face turned to confusion, as if he did not understand what you were saying.

"What, that you have talent? Bloody hell, of course. A blind man could see that." Surprised face stayed on him for a while. "Don't tell me you don't believe that."

With that, he closed the distance between you two and went to cup your face. "I can't believe you'd be so harsh on yourself," he said, looking deeply into your eyes.

You laughed lightly. "That's rich, coming from you."

Your foreheads touched. "I don't want to pressure you into anything, Y/N. But I don't want to watch you go without a fight. Who knows, it might be a dead end after few weeks. But what if not?"

"I'm scared...but like, the good kind of scared, you know?"

"Yeah," he laughed. "I know." The two stayed in your own thoughts for a moment, foreheads still touching. "Can I kiss you?" he whispered quietly.

"Yes, please do. But only if you plan of staying the night. I want to find out what it feels like to wake up next to you."

He chucked. "Yes, me too. You did run away on me pretty smoothly," he pointed to the fact you were nowhere to be found the morning after your date.

And then- he kissed you.

It felt like opening the windows for the first time after a long winter. Like finally finding the perfume that suit you. Looking into a mirror and liking a new haircut. Realizing you grew out of your old insecurities. Listening to a song you'd heard a thousand times before and finally getting its meaning. A shoe that fits. Laugh that comes from within. Your true self coming out. Letting go of the past. Becoming yourself.

part 8

_______________________

@i-wish-this-was-me @lqvesoph @ophcelia @noneofyourfbusinessworld @formulaal

[fandomnerd9602]

Love Me Tender

Bambi!Wanda x Reader

WARNING ⚠️ ANGST AHEAD ⚠️

She shouldn’t have let you go. You were trying to do your part. It was your time to lead the tactical team on the rescue op. You had Natasha and Yelena as your backup. Wanda, your loving doe mate, had a feeling that you shouldn’t go. But she knew there were other hybrids that needed the spec ops team so she put her fears aside.

How she wished she listened. It was lonely and near silent in your apartment. Wanda could only wait for you to come back thru that apartment door.

That door, that whole apartment. She wanted to build a life here with you. One where she would eventually find her boys and raise them with you. To grow old with you.

And then came the phone call. The caller ID sent chills down her spine - New York Presbyterian Hospital.

“Hello?” She shakily answered.

“Wanda?” Natasha’s own shaky voice spoke up. “There’s been an incident.”

“Any hybrids?”

“Safe and secure. But…” Natasha hesitated. “(Y/N)’s been hurt. They’re taking your detka in for emergency surgery and treatment.”

Wanda’s ears began to ring. The world around her was blurring.

“Wanda? Wanda?”

“I-I’m here.” Wanda tried to be composed.

“I’ll keep you updated but it’s touch and go right now” Natasha tries to comfort her pal but her own sense of dread and sorrow was overwhelming.

She drove to the hospital as fast as she could. Her mind was racing, just hoping and praying that you’d be awake by the time she got there.

Wanda burst into the waiting room to find Natasha and Yelena pacing, their wolf tails hung low.

“Bambi,” Yelena said a little glum.

“Where’s my detka?” She looked around, “what happened?”

Natasha guided her to sit down. “We were on an op involving the Red Room. (Y/N) took three bullets while protecting some hybrids”

Wanda thought she had used up all her tears, but fresh ones were already welling up in her eyes.

“(Y/N) is in surgery right now,” Yelena explains. “Chances are looking good but I-I…I don’t know”

Wanda looked around and saw a couple hybrids being checked for wounds.

“Are these them?” Wanda asked. Natasha simply nodded. Wanda found all of her strength just leave her and she sat down.

Wanda took a deep breath. These hybrids were malnourished, some had wounds and cuts and bruises. In that moment, Wanda -ever growing in her own bravery - knew that she could either shrink or walk forward and be exactly what you had been for her all along.

Wanda got up and began helping to the counsel the new hybrids, letting them just tell her anything and everything. She wasn’t sure if it really helped but Wanda just let them talk. Her mere act of service was already a soothing balm, just the simple act of a friendly ear was healing to people whose voices were practically taken from them.

The doctors came out a couple hours later and informed Wanda that you were in post op recovery. Wanda was relieved. And then they let her know that she could see you.

Wanda practically ran as soon as she knew the room number. She hesitated outside your room. Wanda was terrified, what if what she saw just caused her to break? She already saw what death had done to her parents at a young age. Would you look anything like that?

She opened the door and quietly entered. You laid there, your right arm, rib, and shoulder were bandaged. You had shrapnel burns on the right side of your face.

“Detka” Wanda began crying a little as she knelt by your bedside. “My detka”

Wanda tried to talk to you, even if you couldn’t hear her. “You would’ve been proud. I did my best for the hybrids. I just let them talk. I did what you did for me - you gave me my voice back”

She takes your hand in hers, “all I want is to hear yours again, detka”

Her mind wandered to a favorite song of yours and hers. She laid her head against your arm.

Love me tender

Love me sweet

Never let me go

You have made my life complete

And I love you so

Love me tender

Love me true

All my dreams fulfilled

For my darlin' I love you

And I always will

Love me tender

Love me long

Take me to your heart

For it's there that I belong

And we'll never part

Love me tender

Love me true

All my dreams fulfilled

For my darlin' I love you

And I always will

Love me tender

Love me dear

Tell me you are mine

I'll be yours through all the years

Till the end of time

Love me tender

Love me true

All my dreams fulfilled

For my darlin' I love you

And I always will

And I always will

And I always will

Wanda found herself beginning to weep. She’d wait for you to wake up, however long that would take.

And then she felt a set of fingers, gently running their digits thru her hair, caressing her scalp. Wanda shot up to see you weakly smiling at her.

“Are you sure your hybrid animal isn’t a songbird?” You ask weakly, your voice hoarse from being dry.

“Detka!!!” Wanda cried as she jumped forward and hugged you tight. You winced a little from the pain. Wanda gasped, “I’m so sorry!”

You took her face delicately in your hands, “I don’t care”

And with that, you pulled her into a kiss. She moaned happily against your lips, her deer tail wiggled happily.

It was your turn to be the one in recovery and it would take time but Wanda was by your side every step of the way. Tony covered the medical bills and even paid for a hotel room not far from the hospital for Wanda.

Your mate loved you so much and you loved her back. Your love really was a dream come true.

Tags @lifespectator @julieromanoff @idkwhatever580 @olsenmyolsen @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @revanshand @russianredassassin @multi-fandom-enjoyer

[sexiestpodcastcharacter]

Sexiest Podcast Character — Scripted Bracket — Round 5

Propaganda

Captain Isabel Lovelace (Wolf 359):

Her everything <3 But in all seriousness WHAT is more sexy than a haunted, competent, funny, cursed, vengeful, mourning, badass, doomed woman?

listen to the run and hide speech and tell me that isn't the sexiest thing you've ever heard

Hot space lady who could kill me mmm yes please!

(sort of) twice-undead space captain who wired a bomb to her heart to make sure the crew of her ship didn't kill her before her escape shuttle got working. she's funny she's a genius she knows how to use a gun and she cares very much about her crew (despite the whole bomb thing).

#LOVELACE #idk who she’s up agaunst really tbf #but she cares so SO much #she gets boiled down to ’tough scary lady hot’ a lot (which 100% agree) but #she is heartbroken about her failure to keep her crew safe #and stubbornly wants to make sure none of it is in vain #even if it kills her #HOT. ​even apart from how hot her monologues and threats to hilbert are #also her and eifel laughing and getting along when they first meet her 😭 yall #anyway. lovelace 1000%. the defense rests

Vote Lovelace cuz of the way she says "Hi honey, I'm home" to the bastard who shot her in the head, and then how she proceeds to beat him up <3 Oh. And how she twists his arm and says "good boy". Yeah.

LOVELACE SWEEP LOVELACE SWEEP GO LISTEN TO HER RUN AND HIDE SPEECH AND WEEP THAT GODDARD AERONATICS EVER KILLED HER ENTIRE CREW AND ALSO HER (she recovered) AND MADE HER THEIR ENEMY

#LOVELACE SWEEP. DO NOT FUCKING LET ME DOWN #Lovelace is so much to me #Seen some people in the notes citing the run and hide speech#Which is very good #but my personal favorite Lovelace thing is variations on a theme #The cyclical nature of trauma #The lack of trust #The fear #the sadness #‘You can never go home. You were home. And now you’re back— and you can never go back.’ #Lovelace hearing Hera say something to her and #Thinking ‘what she’s actually saying is that I’m a demon and she would be glad to kill me in a slow and horrifying manner’ #Is so #I don’t agree that Lovelace is doomed either #Like #lovelace did die. But #She got out of that pain and trauma #How do you listen to her say that she is Isabel Lovelace #That she rejects the person that pain made her to be #And say she’s doomed

captain lovelace helped 12yo me realise I like women. She’s so hot. her threatening Hilbert is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. isabel lovelace SWEEP

Mina Murray (Re: Dracula)

As the winner of the Dracula sexyman bracket which ran before brackets were even a huge thing on tumblr and as a podcast character sort of now that re:Dracula is a podcast I think she deserves a place in this bracket

I would kill for Mina I would die for Mina etc

Mina helped everyone kill Dracula with her reports and memorization of the train schedules!

Mina got her mind invaded in order to be used as a puppet, and she took advantage of it by uno reversing the mind link to hunt down and kill her tormentor. Twice a day she gets into a state of being buried alive to achieve it. She dreads vampirism yet she's using her vampirism to her advantage. Her man vowed to become a vampire for her. He hates vampires. Yet he will offer his throat to her only.

Mod Note: This poll is about podcast characters, please only vote and offer propaganda for the Mina Murray in Re: Dracula.

[probablyspooky]

One of Us (Alien VS Predator Celtic x Fem! Reader)

Born as if you were a yautja yourself, you join your pack to go on your right of passage trip. But running into other humans always causes problems for you.

Trigger warnings : Blood, swearing, white men of course, British people

The clashing of metal on metal echoed throughout the stone walls you called home, the dry humid head of yautja prime beating down on your skin as you dragged in a crate of whatever into the home. Placing the heavy box onto a small table in the center of the room, a loud crash could be heard, followed by a roar, then two roars, and then finally three roars. You pinched the bridge of your nose and walked down the long hallway to the training area out back. Opening the large door you were greeted with three brothers wrestling one another in anger. The smallest Scar, was grabbing his brother Chopper, trying to get him off balance, as their oldest brother Celtic was holding Scar by the leg and Chopper by the arm trying to separate the two. Spit and growls filled your ears as they continued to try and fight one another.

You coughed trying to get their attention, when that didn’t work, you did it again, louder, making all three brothers freeze during their little scuffle. Celtic dropped both his brothers and walked over to you, draping an arm around your waist.

Despite your origins, and your small stature, Celtic found comfort within you as his mate. You’ve proved your strength through combat strategy, and combat intelligence. His gentle purrs emanated from his chest as he greeted you softly, a bit embarrassed that you got to see his two brothers fighting like that.

“Hello my love,” Celtic purred, placing his chin to your head, “What goes on today?”

You placed a comforting hand onto his arm and looked up at him, typically he would be wearing his combat mask, but today his face was free, you weren’t complaining as you loved him as much as a human could love a creature as marvelous as he.

“A package came,” you told him, looking at the other two brothers who were aggravated by their previous scuffle.

“A package?”asked Chopper, tilting his head towards Celtic and yourself, “Who was it from?”

You rolled your eyes,”You know I can’t read”

“Yeah fool,” Wolf mumbled under his breath, antagonizing his older brother.

Chopper grabbed Wolf into a headlock and the two began scrapping again in the courtyard, Celtic growled lowly, and took your hand, leading you back into the home the four of you shared. The two of you walked into the main area, and he took a look at the wooden crate that was sitting upon the table, reading the label himself.

“What does it say?” you questioned, tilting your head at your mate.

Celtic excitedly picked up the crate and ripped the wooden lid off like it was nothing.

“It is a message from the Elders! We can go on our right of passage soon!”, he clicked excitedly, mandibles stretching out and retracting.

“Does…does it say..?”

“Yes my small one, you are invited as well!”, he clicked, putting the box down, strolling over to you and lifting you into the air in joy.

Now here you were, aboard a ship floating in orbit of Earth, the planet where your ancestors came from, but it was not your home.

The three brothers were adorned in their finest armor, excited for the trip, the crate that had been delivered contained the plasmacaster holders that clipped into their armor, along with a smaller set of traditional yautja armor, armor that now clutched your body tightly for your protection.

“I must say sister,” Chopper started, coming over to the viewing deck, “You look very good in that armor, if Celtic wasn’t my brother, I surely would battle him for your hand”

If only Chopper was a bit more observant, he would notice Celtic standing behind him, the oldest brother was very protective of you, he grabbed his brother's dreads, causing Chopper to yelp in pain.

“My ooman, brother is not a prize to be won,” he growled, throwing his brother onto the ground.

Chopper growled and walked off, possibly to go annoy the youngest brother. Once the sliding door shut behind him, Celtic turned his attention to you.

“Are you nervous?”, he asked, taking your small hand into his

“A bit, I am excited to prove myself again,” you smiled up at him, leaning your head onto his broad shoulder.

“I believe you will be victorious in our mission today, the Elders would not have allowed you to accompany us if they did not have faith in you.”

“Thank you my love,”

“Anything for you”

You could hear the purring coming from his chest, as your wrist gauntlets began to buzz, signaling you to head to the drop pods for deployment.

Walking through the metal halls, and eventually to the loading bay, the four of you entered thin tubes of metal, and soon feeling the pressure drop, you were shot out of the mothership to Earth. Holding onto the sides as the pod shook, and eventually being jolted a bit as the pod crashed into the icey Earth. The pod’s hologram began talking saying the doors were now opened and to hurry and make your clan proud, yet your door never opened. Sighing, you took your boot and began to kick the door out from the inside out, with a couple of good kicks the door dislodged and you were greeted by your mate and his brothers, just standing around your pod watching.

“You could’ve helped,” you groaned, stepping out onto the ice.

“Yeah, but that would be no fun,” Chopper chuckled, turning to the large ice tunnel that led to the temple.

Celtic explained that some other humans were lured here when the Elders began to heat up the temple, forcing the queen to produce facehuggers for them to eventually hunt the xenomorph that would eventually form from that.

Chopper excitedly, pulled out his wrist blades and jumped down the hole to the temple entrance. Scar growling and following his brother, leaving Celtic and you.

“Do you want me to carry you?” he asked, putting his hand out to you.

“In your dreams,” you smirked under your mask, jumping down the hole after them.

“I want you to sire my young,” Celtic grunted, jumping lastly down the hole.

At the end of the tunnel, it seemed there was a small crew at the base of the temple, using your cloaking devices the four of you slowly walked through the camp, trying your hardest not to bring any attention to yourselves. Of course though, a person had to look a bit too hard at the moving figures that seemed to move through nothing. 

A man drew his weapon and began firing at you, the smallest target, it dinked off your armor, and of course your mate did not like that one bit.

Celtic let out a battle cry as he charged his massive frame towards the man, kicking him down with little to no effort. You sighed as the rest of the team began firing at your mate, the two others decloaked along with you and began attacking the humans. Grabbing your spear weapon, you charged at a human man, piercing him through his jaw, and swinging him towards his friends. Running and placing your now retracted spear between their two heads, and then releasing it, stabbing the two in the head at the same time.

Eventually the carnage of the three brothers and yourself left no crew members alive on the above surface. Celtic walked over to you.

“Are you hurt?”

“I can handle myself love,” you groaned

He nodded, knowing he would have to put aside his protective nature towards you while you were on this mission.

The four of you made your way to the main chambers, where the plasma casters should be. But no plasma casters were there. Chopper and Scar began to howl with anger, where could they be? Before any words can be spoken, the temple begins to shift, and three paths open in front of you. With a nod, the mission was clear, Scar and Chopper into their own path, and Celtic and you down your own. You bid them a farewell, possibly the last time you would see them, and Celtic and you made your way down your own path.

Despite having separate paths, you did eventually find Chopper, and he was stalking.

Celtic clicked at his brother, “What is it?”

Chopper pointed at a group of people, and you crouched down to get a better look at them. Using your head vision that was in your mask, you listened to them speak.

Celtic nudged you, pointing to a woman in an orange coat, zooming in you could see one plasma caster in her bag.

Chopper angrily cloaked and jumped down. One human with a gun pointed towards him as he fired a retracting net at him. The man fell back, as the spear the net came from began to retract, the wire pulling deep into the man’s flesh. Celtic and you jumped down as well, another man turned to face you.

“You’re small?”, he looked genuinely confused, as you ran up with your wrist blade drawn and punctured him through his gun, he in his last breaths hit you across the face, knocking your mask off.

The woman who was panicking trying to get the man out of the retracting net, turned to face you.

“You’re a woman?,” she shouted.

You had an annoyed look on your face as you walked over to them trying to help their friend from the net, his cries were annoying, pulling out your spear, you looked her dead in the eyes.

“We are of the same species, but we are not the same blood,” you stated, piercing the man in the chest, killing him and stopping his cries.

The woman yells at you killing her friend, she charges as you, you weren’t sure why she would even try, as it was clear you were of a different class. Using her momentum against her, you lifted her and tossed her into the center of the room.

She stupidly started reaching for a pickaxe to attack you with, but Chopper ran over and de-cloaked, kicking the woman across the room. He soon raised his wrist blades over his head to strike her down and to retrieve the plasma caster from her bag. But the sickening sight of the pitch black tail of a xenomorph began to coil behind him. It reeled back to strike, but you ran over, wrist blade out and cut the sharp tip from the beast, it’s acid blood spraying on your skin causing you to yell out in pain as your skin fizzled away.

Celtic, who was handling a human man, throws the man to the ground at the sound of your screams. He rushes over, grabbing the tail of the xenomorph, pulling it down. It began to frail crazily as it struggled against Celtics grasp. Chopper, regaining his balance, grabbed your spear and pierced it though the head, causing the spear to melt away from its blood. Killing the beast instantly. Chopper let out a roar of victory as he was now a blooded yautja, Celtic rushed over to you and pulled your hands away from your face to look at your wounds. Reaching for his belt and pulling out some healing goop, goo? Cum? Healing herbs???? I DONT KNOW

And applied it gently to the fresh scar that now went from the side of your face to your lower cheek.

“Is it ugly?” you asked, feeling the cool ointment being applied.

“The scars of a warrior are the most attractive” he replied, helping you to your feet.

“What the hell is going on!”, the woman shouted at the three of you.

Chopper growled walking over, he was now marked with the symbol of a blooded yautja.

You walked over across the room, past the woman, past the dead man and picked up your mask. Returning to your pack, you placed the mask back onto your face, and one by one the three of you cloaked and ran away into the temple to find Scar.

The three of you found Scar holding the rather old man at the temple stairs. Using your mask you could notice this man was diseased and would probably die within a year or so, so of course Scar tossed him aside as it was not a worthy kill. Not noticing you, Scar began to walk away from the man.

Why are humans so stupid, you watched as this weak man pulled out a flare, and sprayed fire onto Scars back, how pathetic. You watched as your brother turned around and stabbed the man through the gut, killing him and walking away.

Following close behind you watched Scar throwing a shuriken through a closing gate.

“What’s up?”, you asked him, walking with the other two.

“Humans, they’re on the other side of the wall”, Scar grumbled, turning his attention to his sister.

You began to think for a bit on how to get there, not noticing Celtic grabbing a face hugger who was jumping towards the back of your head, throwing it down and stomping on it.

“If we travel through the back ways we can reach them on the other side.” you stated, pulling your gauntlet hologram up to show them the path you wish to take.

“Whatever you say my sister,” Scar and Chopped nodded, cloaking and following Celtic and you.

After a bit of traveling through the tunnels you found yourself in a  dark tunnel, the sound of footsteps echoing off the halls. The three brothers moved to the side so that you could face the human woman.

The woman in the orange coat ran down the hall and stopped in fear when she saw you.

“Wait!”, she pleaded, her hands out in fear, she knelt down, and opened her pack, pulling the plasma caster out. The three brothers tilted their heads at the sight of it.

“Kick it over.” you demanded

She kicked it over and you picked it up in your hands.

“Where are the other ones?” you asked, handing it off to Chopper.

“They…we got separated…” she whimpered, putting her hands above her head in fear.

“Where are they?”, you knelt down pulling your wrist blades out and forcing her to look at your mask.

“I’m not sure! Please, one of those things is coming!” she cried, turning in fear as a xenomorph tried to run up behind her, Chopper, now equipped with his plasma caster fired a single shot, killing the beast.

One by one the three brothers de-cloaked, standing behind you.

“What are you…How did you…” she stammered

“Name?”, you asked, tilting your head at the woman.

“Lex…” she replied, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone right now. “You are weak.”, you spat, standing up to leave, the brothers had already begun walking.

Lex didn’t want to be left alone, in this place, with those things, she ran up and grabbed your arm. Celtic let out a roar as he ran up and put a blade to her neck.

“Let go.” you growled, shaking her hand off, “What do you want, human?”

“Uhm, last time I checked you’re human too…I think..”, Lex replied, sheepishly

“That is true,” you stated, tilting your head at her as you stepped close, “What do you want?”

“Take me with you”

You laughed at her request.

“And why should we let you come with us?”

“I’ve seen your search history”

“I can help you find the other…guns?” she stammered, the cold blade still on her neck.

You sighed, and waved your mate off.

“Very well, but if you try anything, my mate will dispose of you”, you added, walking away.

Lex began to take a step and stopped.

“Mate? This thing is your husband?” she sounded shocked.

You groaned at how close minded she was being. This trip wasn’t going how you’d hoped.

After answering a million awful questions about your personal life to Lex, the group came upon the sacrificial chamber.

“How do you feel about your people being used as hosts for these things you hunt?” Lex asked, her voice clearly full of anger towards the Yautja kind.

“Those who give their bodies up for the tradition of blooding are remembered well for their sacrifice. We honor them.”

Walking into the chamber, it was covered in the webbing of face hugger eggs constantly reproducing. Chopper and Scar began to walk around to investigate the bodies, while Celtic began to scan the temple to see how many of these creatures had been created. Lex and you began to walk the walls, looking for any signs of life.

“Disgusting,” you grumbled, feeling the wet under your boot.

“What’s disgusting is what you’re doing”, Lex sneered

You turned to her in anger, drawing your blade you came close to Lex.

“I am only keeping you alive as an act of mercy, I will revoke it at any time.

Lex stammered, her eyes darting back and forth from your face to the blade.

“I’m-”

But then a cry echoed through the chamber, as a man who was fused to the wall began to groan in agony and pain.

[fanwarriorfictions]

Help Me, Help You - Part Two

Fenrys x F!Reader

Summary- Embarking on their journey, Y/n and Fenrys slowly start to learn a little more about each other, to Y/n’s utter annoyance.

Warnings- none

Series Masterlist

Part Two

Y/n follows the golden male, her own pack strapped to her back. Only the essentials, clothes, weapons, and gold, if she needed anything else she could buy it along the way.

They walked for what felt like eternity, the road was well worn into the forest floor, coated in dry fallen leaves, winter would hit here soon. The wind held that chill, bringing it from the northern point of the continent, a familiar feeling on her skin.

The nearest port city would take them nearly another whole day to walk to, and who knew how long after that to get passage to the southern continent.

Y/n had been half tempted to shift and run to their destination, but she stuck to Fenrys, after all she’d sought him out for a reason. As night soon approached, Y/n found herself walking closer to the male’s side. Her brother had told her many stories of the creatures that lurked in the shadows.

“So,” Fenrys says, breaking the long silence they’d fallen into, “If you don’t mind me asking, where’d the cat form come from? Vaughan is the furthest thing from feline.”

A question she’d heard most of her life, one she dreaded deeply.

“None of your business,” Y/n says, and there’s a bite to her voice that she can’t hide.

“No need to get testy, kitten.” The nickname had stuck long after they’d left that little village to her utter dismay. “Just trying to get to know my new partner in crime.”

She glares at him, “We have different fathers, that’s all you need to know.”

It was the simplest version of the story, the only one she was willing to share.

“See was that so hard?”

The male is grinning at her, the expression pulling uncomfortably on the large scars that adorned the side of his face, from his brow to his jaw, just barely missing the onyx eyes that examined her just as closely as she did him.

“Why’d they send you out to look for him?”

Fenrys raises that scarred brow, “I volunteered.”

She hums, looking back at the path before them. The sun was starting to set, turning the sky a deep orange.

“We’ll set up camp here,” Fenrys says, taking his small pack off his shoulders, “Start the fire and I’ll find us something to eat.”

He didn’t give her any time to respond, shifting in a flash into a brilliant white wolf. Y/n took a step back from the to large creature, her heart leaping in her chest.

Her brother had told her of the Moonbeam twins, of their opposite colored forms that could tear men in two with a simple snap of their jaws. She didn’t want to find out what those teeth would feel like around her throat.

The wolf stared at her, a knowing look in those onyx eyes. He turned, darting into the woods, leaving her alone, leaving her to figure out how to start a damn fire.

It didn’t take him long to hunt down a few rabbits, Fenrys was already on his way back before the sun had turned the sky a deep purple.

He’d expected to find a small fire, not Y/n glaring intently at a bundle of sticks and some dried leaves. She clutches another small stick in her hand, holding it tightly enough that it bends beneath her grip.

“I don’t think you can threaten it into starting,” he says, “Though I’d sure love to see you try.”

She startled, looking up at him with wide eyes, her posture rigid, like she was ready to bolt. It takes her a second to really look at him, to realize he’s not a threat, before she relaxes, turning her glare back on the little pile of sticks.

“I can’t get it to start,” she says, throwing that poor bent stick down on the ground.

“Staring at it isn’t going to help,” Fenrys laughs, “Do you even know how?”

Her glare shoot up to him, snapping, “Yes.”

The way she says it, the harsh tone, the self conscious edge to it, tells him that, no, she doesn’t know how to do it.

“What? No one taught you any survival skills, kitten?” Fenrys asks, “I would’ve thought dear old brother would have at least shown you the basics. He always was the outdoorsman of the group.”

Y/n doesn’t snap back like he thought she would, only glares back down at that little pile, as if she could will the fire into starting.

Fenrys sighs, kneeling down in the dirt beside her, taking one of the larger sticks into his hand, placing the slightly sharp edge against one of small pieces of tree bark. Using both his hands to turn the stick back and forth, pushing down with each turn to create more friction. It only takes a few moments for the bark to start smoking, and then a small flame catches, spreading to the dried leaves packed around it.

Fenrys glances at the female beside him, those keen eyes watch his hands closely, like she was trying to memorize the motions.

She seemingly feels his gaze, her eyes jumping up to meet his own, he sees the embarrassment as soon as it hits.

“I haven’t left home much,” she explains, “No one saw fit to teach me.”

She shifts uncomfortably beneath his gaze, so Fenrys looks away, turning his attention to their dinner. He sees her watching in his peripherals as he prepares the the little creatures to be cooked. Her eyes are intently on his hands, watching each cut of his knife. Fenrys takes his time, slowing the motions down, silently teaching.

Fenrys throws the meat onto the fire, “I don’t know much about your brother if I’m being completely honest.”

“Not many do,” Y/n answers, those eyes still on the roasting rabbit, “He’s always been very private, even at home.”

“And where’s that?” Fenrys asks, “Home?”

Finally, those keen eyes look up, lit up by the fire, they look even more cat like than usual.

“North,” she says, quietly like the information was a secret, “A very small village in the Cambrian Mountains.”

Fenrys wouldn’t ask the name of the village, it’s likely he’s never even heard of it, “How’d you get so far from home?”

He didn’t add the fact that she didn’t know basic survival skills, yet the narrowed eyes tells him she heard the unspoken words.

“I traveled much in my other form,” she explains, “The Oakwald Forrest Cats are well used to the cold.”

With the long thick coat he’d seen, it wasn’t a surprise.

“I knew I’d recognized that cat,” Fenrys says.

He’d seen them near Terrasen, yet he’d never seen a fae shift into one. Though many of the fae of Erilea had been long hunted down, the few that remained, the ones he’d found to help them, there hadn’t been a cat among them.

“A gift from my father,” she says blandly, an edge to her voice like the last time he’d asked about her family. Seems her father was a sore spot for her, he tucked that knowledge away for later.

He hums, turning the stick holding his dinner to roast the other side. She did the same with her own, staring into the flame intently for several long minutes.

There was a familiar look in her eyes, one he’d seen in his own many times, like she was lost in a memory, lost in the emotion it came with.

So Fenrys took his dinner from the fire, nudging her own towards her, “Eat up.”

Without even looking at him, or looking away from that spot in the fire, she took her food and ate silently, methodically.

Once she was done, she shifted in a bright flash, curling into a small ball by the fire, her back to him. A clear statement, I don’t want to talk.

He knew the feeling all too well.

They arrived at the small city just south of the Naval port around midday, far quicker than she expected. Fenrys had gone to the docks to look for passage, leaving Y/n to wander the city by herself.

It wasn’t much, yet it was bigger than what she was used to, louder too. There was many voices, vendors hawking their goods, children playing, musicians singing and dancing to music played on improvised instruments.

Overwhelming, Y/n could only stare at it all in her cat form. Moving through crowds and over high beams, dodging hands that reached to pet her soft coat, hissing at to curious people who tried to grab her.

“Here, kitty kitty kitty,” a voice behind her, familiar and annoying.

Fenrys stood there, the human crowds parting around the obviously fae male. He was smiling devilishly at her, holding out what seemed to be a piece of ham from the wrapped sandwich in his hand.

She hissed at him, swatting the offering.

“Awe, come on,” he coos, “Don’t you want a treat, kitten?”

A man walking beside them fell straight on his ass when Y/n shifted, growling at Fenrys.

“Stop calling me that.”

“What? It suits you,” he leans closer to her, drawling out the word, “Kitten. Hey!”

He yells as Y/n rips the sandwich from his grasp. Turning on her heel to stalk away from him while she took a pointedly large bite.

“That was mine,” Fenrys whines, catching up to her in a few strides.

“And where’s mine?” She asks with a raised brow, taking another bite.

“I asked if you were hungry earlier,” Fenrys sighs, throwing his hands in the air, “You’re the one who said no.”

Y/n shrugs, “What’d you find at the docks, anything?”

Fenrys sighs again, turning his gaze away from his stolen sandwich to glare at the sky. That wasn’t good, Y/n thought, they’d be stuck here for weeks waiting for a ship to take them across the sea. Vaughan could be well on his way to the other side of the vast southern continent, and she’d never find him.

“Nothing?” She asks, lowering her hands from her mouth.

Fenrys moves quickly, snatching the lunch from her, “No, actually we leave in the morning.”

She gapes at him, “That was-“

“Mine actually,” he cuts in, biting directly where her mouth had just been, “Did Vaughan not teach you to always keep your guard up either? That was like taking candy from a baby.”

Y/n snarls at him, and Fenrys just laughs. She tries to grab it from him, but the male just held it high above his head, far far above her own.

“Oh quit with the hissing, kitten,” Fenrys laughs, “I’ll get you your own, we need to stock up for our trip anyways.”

“Quit calling me that, you oaf,” she snaps.

Fenrys smirks, patting her head with his free hand once, snatching the hand back as she went to swipe at him.

“Quit reacting so much and maybe I’ll stop.”

She doesn’t respond, only bearing her teeth at him, to which he only laughs, turning on his heel to saunter through the market. Y/n quickly realizes he wasn’t going to wait for her, assuming she’d just follow.

Swearing under her breath, she did just that. Jogging to catch up to the male, who still had that insufferable smirk on his lips as she settled into step beside him.

“I thought you were going to sit there and pout all day,” Fenrys says.

She was half tempted to claw at his smirking face and give him a matching scar on the other side.

“You owe me a sandwich.”

He laughs, “Someone’s mean when she’s hungry. Good to know, I‘ll pack extra snacks.”

“Shut up.”

They spent a several hours traversing through the vast city markets, stocking up on dried meats and cheeses that would hold well on the trip down to the southern continent. Once their bags were packed to the brim, they made their way to the ship, where they’d spend the next few weeks. It was set to leave first thing in the morning, so they hadn’t bothered to find an inn to stay the night in.

Fenrys had been relieved to find a ship that would take them, let alone one that was headed straight to the continent. And in his time on ships, he could say this was one of the nicer ones he’d been on.

The owner was a merchant, one that traded in silks and thread, he claimed to have tailored for Hasar herself. Knowing the female, Fenrys highly doubted she would let the sniveling man anywhere near her.

Fenrys had more than enough gold to pay for the trip across the sea, and enough to splurge on a private room away from the shared hammocks below deck.

He dropped his heavy pack onto the small desk by the door, falling face first onto the small bunk pressed against the wall with a satisfied groan. Fenrys appreciated the gentle sway of the ship beneath him, mostly because it was about to take him far away from this suffocating continent.

Behind him, Y/n quietly shut their door, carefully arranging her bag onto the opposite bunk, much more refined than his careless approach.

Fenrys turned his head just enough to see her. Either she didn’t notice his gaze or didn’t care, her focus stays on her bag, on the clothes she dug out. She methodically arranged her items, something Fenrys noticed she did a lot, she’d done it that morning when they packed out their little camp, later in the market when she stored away her things. Like there was something soothing about the repetition, like it calmed whatever was happening in her mind.

Fenrys would like to learn something similar, if only to stop the endless thoughts and emotions that, even after several months, still ran constantly through his head.

Her eyes finally turned to him, catching his stare. Suddenly he felt like he wasn’t meant to be watching, and the embarrassment of being caught had his cheeks darkening. There was really no reason for it, it wasn’t like he’d been watching her change.

“I’m going to go freshen up,” she says casually, her eyes not missing the blush, “Don’t miss me to much.”

She moved to the door, and Fenrys found himself tracking the movement, pushing up to rest on his elbows. She moved silently, like she always did, that feline grace that would put the silent assassins of the red desert to shame.

“I miss you already, kitten,” Fenrys sighs dramatically as she opens the door.

A hiss, a slam of the door, and she’s gone. Fenrys smiled to himself, settling back into his bunk. The gentle sway of the ship had him yawning before to long, the somewhat comfortable bunk didn’t help either, compared to the last few sleeping arrangements it was like laying on a cloud

As he drifted off to sleep, he saw keen eyes watching him, directly through his mask of confidence and swagger, staring into his soul, broken and dark, yet not seeming to care. Fenrys could only stare back, wishing he could see past her own shields.

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@emma-andrea

[minminyoonjii]

Hiiiiiii, I have a request that might be too angsty but I’m not sure. Which if it is you may ignore🫡

Buttttt how do you think cg!skz would be with a little who is scared of physical touch. Ie) holding hands is scary to them because they think their daddy is gonna drop their hand or let go of the hug.

This might see really silly request but it’s very personal. I had a cg who always held my hand and then all of a sudden never wanted to touch me. Obviously this backstory isn’t needed but I feel as though you do every prompt really well and I feel a connection to it.❤️‍🩹

Thank you for reading this, God bless.🫶🏼

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

💜Rules and Guidelines

🧡Stray Kids Scenarios Masterlist

🌹CW

Hurt/Comfort|Wholesome|Hyperventilation|Anxious Dread|Domestic Settings|Gender Neutral! Reader|Fluffy|Soft Reassurance Fic|Crying|Panic Jolts|Tooth Rotting Sweet

💌 This is a work of fiction, I by all means don't force ship anyone. They have the right to love whomever they want.

🍄Wordcount: 1.3K

Bang Chan

"Hello, little one," he said, hesitant to approach your cowering figure. Chan squat down, "Could you come out of there?" he asked, waiting patiently for your response. You clutched your plush, gradually coming out of your hiding spot. Chan gave you a soft smile, "There you are pretty thing. Can you take my hand?" he asked, hoping the touch would ease you out. Your breath hitched, your stared at his hand with dread. Chan studied your expression, moving his hand away, "How about this?" he murmured, holding one of WolfChan's hand. "You can hold the other one, baby. Wolfie will never left go," he reassured, smiling when you eventually took it. Chan chuckled, "Good job, little one," he said, pleased that you took it. Your heart swelled with affection, the wolf paw in your palm felt reassuring. Chan watched you and cautiously let go of WolfChan. Your eyes widened when he did but then you remembered that Wolfie didn't let go and kept his promise. Chan smiled, "See even if Daddy end up letting go, little one. Wolfie will always hang on. Daddy will try his best to always hold your hand too. That's a a promise I'll never break too," he said, carefully patting your hair.

Lee Minho

Minho squinted his eyes at you, he kneeled down approaching you like he would a stray. You furrowed your eyebrows, bracing to use your plush as a weapon. A subtle smirk etched on his lips, Minho opened his arms. Not a word was said as he just waited with his arms apart. You eyed him caution, your heart screaming to trust him but your mind dread the chance of abandonment. Minho saw your conflicted expression and placed Leebit in between. Your walls dropped slightly at the plush, "You can give the scary guy a hug, but he doesn't let go if you do," Minho said, trying to make it seem like Leebit was the one talking. You hesitated but moved yourself closer to him. Minho smiled, letting you smell his palm like he would with his kitties. You did as expected and when you got close enough, he snagged you to his chest. Minho instantly scruffed your neck, his grip firm around you, "You can't escape now, little cupcake. Mama has you right in his trap," he teased, internally hoping you'd get used to his holds.

Seo Changbin

You glared at him everytime he got close. Changbin chuckled, finding no intimidation in your glare, "Such a wary little agi," he cooed, watching your every expression. You eyed his biceps, wondering how comfy it would be to cuddle but the anxious dread in your chest made you look away. Changbin inched his way towards you, "Do you want a hug, uri agi?" he asked, his voice soft and gentle. You wanted to melt to his words but the tension you placed yourself in felt so heavy. When suddenly a pink plush booped your nose, "Pretty agi," Changbin said in a high pitched voice. You blinked as the tension broke. Changbin chuckled, hoping to lower your walls with Dweakki, "Psst. I never get peace. Do you know why?" he asked, his voice still pitched. You shook your head. Changbin moved Dweakki's hands, "It's all because of this Baba. He never let's me go. Ottoke!" he exclaimed, causing giggles to escape your lips. Changbin smiled, "So if you want a big squeeze. You can go to the Baba, okay?" he said, lowering Dweakki so you make eye contact with him.

Hwang Hyunjin

Hyunjin watched you for a long while. Your avoidance behavior sent an ache through his heart. You sighed, your touched starved heart aching to be held but your anxiety dread the feeling of lost. Hyunjin released a soft chuckle. Your flinched at the tone, you didn't expect him to be so close. Hyunjin flinched back, "I'm sorry, lovely. It's just, that was a big sigh of a little love like you," he said, tracing doodles on the floor. You watched his hand, "Big," you whispered under your breath, wondering what it'd be like to hold them. Hyunjin smiled at your whispered, "Do you want to touch them?" he said, opening his palm. You reluctantly took his hand, you traced and turned it. The feeling of commitment wasn't there after knowing if was you who initiated. Hyunjin smiled as you explored his palm, "That's it, lovely. Take your time," he whispered, watching you affectionately.

Han Jisung

Jisung pursed his lips, his expression unreadable. You felt your heart pound within your chest. Jisung placed Han Quokka in between, "Sweetheart, I want you take the plush for yes, okay?" he said, having a feeling that you had an underlying problem. You nodded, your emotional state caused tears to well up. "Are touches or hugs scary?" he asked, hitting on the mark. You took the plush with shaky hands. Jisung's empathy synced with yours, "Are you scared of someone letting go?" he asked and you clutched the plush in response. Jisung nodded, "Don't cry, hm? It's normal to want to hold on. Nobody calls babies clingy just because they want their parents close right? It's absolutely normal, sweetheart," he reassured, wiping your tears. "It's alright," he said, giving you a subtle smile. "You're alright," he whispered, stroking your cheek.

Lee Felix

"A sunbeam," he gasped, trying to pulling you into a hug. You flinched away, instantly worrying him. His heart sank, "Did Mommy scare you, sunshine? Mommy didn't mean too, he just got excited that a pretty sunbeam like you is in his house," he cooed, watching you with intrigue and affection. You looked away from his sparkling gaze. Felix chuckled and held up a brownie in front of you, "Take a bite. Mommy made it himself," he said, pride swelling in his chest when you did. The sweet fudge taste unceremoniously dropped your walls. You didn't expect yourself to gradually crawl on his lap for another bite. Felix beamed at the progress and allowed you to adjust yourself in his hold, "Precious little sunshine. No one will ever let go of you again," he whispered, feeding you another bite.

Kim Seungmin

Seungmin scrolled through his phone, he never initiated any type of touch before and it wasn't going to change now. You eyed him with slight intimidation. Seungmin smirked, looking at you, "What do you want, munchkin?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Your breath hitched and you looked away. Seungmin chuckled, having the urge to tease you more, "Aww, what's wrong, little munchkin. Are you scared of a puppy like me?" he said, scooting himself nearer. You glared at him, trying to swat at him and when he held your wrist and interlocked your palms. You tried tugging your hand back but Seungmin held firm. "Shh, shh, shh, munchkin. Dada's not going to hurt you," he said, when he noticed you hyperventilating. You sniffled, feeling his hand slip away from yours, "Stay," you whimpered, holding his hand shaking. Seungmin gave you a subtle smile, "Of course, I'll stay little munchkin," he chuckled interlocking hands with you as he rubbed the top of your palm with his thumb.

Yang Jeongin

"An angel," he whispered, his body trembling with excitement. You shrinked when you saw him, his obvious affection arrows pierced your heart. Jeongin chuckled and stroked your hair, "Hello, angel," he beamed, his eyes turned into crescents. You looked away, avoiding his gaze. Jeongin chuckled, tracing down your arms, "You're such a pretty angel," he cooed, gradually watching you loosen up. You gulped, finding yourself leaning into his touches. Jeongin smirked, "That's it. Slowly give in," he whispered, tracing your palm. You felt your mind grow cloudy, it was like all awareness got thrown away by his comforting presence. Jeongin cooed, holding you precious hand in yours, "Good job, angel. You're doing so good," he praised, lazily holding your hand in his. You tried pulling your hand back but it felt heavy in his hold. "Shh, shh. You're safe to hold Ninnin's hand forever," he chuckled, kissing the top of your palm.

[quecksilvereyes]

oh, sister, I am sorry. your eyes are sunken and your skin is bruised. your lips are chapped, your nailbeds bitten raw. your husband's hand on your waist is a ghost's touch held by the band on your left ring finger and I-

I am dead.

I got on the train, Su. Nevermind your tears, nevermind the plea you could not shape with words, nevermind your fingers on the pulse point of my wrist. "stay", you'd said, as you have always done, dictionary in hand and baby teeth yet lodged in your jaw. "don't go where i cannot."

I step through a wardrobe and you follow, damned be reason. I slay a wolf and you follow, I cling to the little ones and you follow, I am crowned and you follow, I am-

I go past a lamp post, and you follow, damned be dread. I go to a train station and you follow, trembling hands and tender heart. I go, and I go, and I go, and you follow. Sun of my skies. Light of my life.

I go. you stop.

are we too old for stories, now? ten-and-four and ten-and-three, budding bodies and steel bones, we are cast from our home. i hold the little ones until i drown in them. you grip your skirts until no iron can press the shape of your palms from them. and you have ever been, cruelly reasonable and logically callous.

say you, glass shard eyes and rouge-red lips: we are english. we are children. she thinks she has found a magical land in the upstairs wardrobe.

say I, trembling hands and coiling guts: we are narnian. we are monarchs. if she's not mad and she's not lying, then logically she must be telling the truth.

my sister Susan, beautiful as folk tales are and twice as sharp, did you intend every invitation you took for me to twist the knife a godly animal once thrust into my guts? perhaps it was the way your eyes turned blue, or the sound of your laughter losing its bells. perhaps it was just my trembling fingers at the back of your legs, drawing stocking lines where no stockings had ever lain.

the line came out shaking, and you rubbed it off until your skin cried red. the hem of your dress still dripped wet when you left that day, turning on heels too narrow for you to walk in.

do you remember? it took you days to come home, and mother wailed for all of them. you crawled into my bed that night, as you did when we were parents to our little ones, those terrible months. your head on my shoulder, your breath in my ear, I held you until morning.

your mouth in my throat, eyes heavy with sleep, tongue heavy with champagne: we are here now. we must make the best of it. he cannot have all our lives, and all our joys. i wish you would laugh again.

doesn't little lucy, shrieking mouth and tumbling legs, laugh enough for us all?

lucy's manic. if she didn't laugh she'd cry.

i think sometimes, in the parts of my guts that are still a schoolboy, and are mean and cruel to match, that the alcohol makes you softer than the daylight ever could. i do not tell you.

i press my lips to your forehead. i wrap my arms around you. the year between us rings heavy, and when I get up in the morning, you do not follow.

I tried, Su. I did. I applied for university, I saw that girl with that smile. with those eyes. I let you take sections from the paper before I ever touched it, I held the little ones in my arms, and I made coffee in the morning. I sat all my exams.

I smiled when the little ones came back smelling of home.

Aslan's wounds, did I try. but-

I have ever been a thing made for stories. brave the way knights are, bloody knuckles and buckling pride. a horse between my calves, a sword in my hands.

I think, sometimes, that I was born for my sword, for the hollow ringing of my heart when I first held it. a part of me, even then, ten-and-three and soaked to the bone.

such bravery is not made for real world boys and real world taunts. there is a map, I think, from the summits of my knuckles to the jaws of every boy who ever looked at me and bared his teeth.

I am sovereign. I am the skies for your sun to burn in.

I am made wrong, for this england, and I cannot take this life you want. I belong, I think, into myths and legend, the star-studded shards of our home.

so I went on the train, Susan. so I died, and I named what you have chosen. so I banned you from their scorning mouths. so you grip your husband's hand, realest of us all, and you cry. you do not follow.

Forgive me.