#the way hell never just kill these questions off even when hes feeling fed up with the media.. i love it sm

[harzilla]

So I got two asks related to the lost sibling AU and I decided to put them together. Nothing is set in stone in this AU.

In the famous words of Bartok the bat, Can only end in tears!

If we're talking the bioparents/bio family then a lot of them are shocked, thrilled, even in tears. The reactions vary depending on the family.

🌹Riddle struggles with actually telling his mother. His relationship with his mother is extremely complicated. He just had his entire world view turned upside down and coming to realize his mother has been abusive, and on top of that he finds out that he nearly killed his twin. It takes a long time for Riddle to finally tell his mother and Yuu's there to support him. The two hold hands as Riddle reveals the truth to their mother along with the DNA test that proves they're a match. Riddle's mother immediately going with the idea of Yuu moving back home and learning to be a proper Roseheart. Maybe even hating Yuu's adopted family and thinking they kidnapped Yuu. It's just snowballs into this huge fight between Riddle, Yuu, and their mother. It takes a long, long time before the relationship between parent and children is repaired.

🦁 The second ask specifically talks about Leona's family. While I think it was never stated if Farena was there(but let's just say he was), we know Cheka was. Cheka is, absolutely thrilled. "Who's this? You're a lion beastman too? Are you from the sunset savannah? You look a lot like Papa and Unca!" Leona pulling him off Yuu and grumbling at Cheka for overwhelming them. When Farena finds out he almost charges into the infirmary but Leona keeps him out. Yuu's been through enough already, they don't need to be dealing with Farena too. It isn't until Cloud Calling that Leona FINALLY introduced Yuu to his family in person and only because Yuu asks him to. He has no interest in dragging Yuu into the royal mess of his life and he's willing to ignore summons from his brother to do it. Farena's thrilled of course but Yuu's not exactly happy seeing the way Leona has been treated by the people he should be able to trust. Leona actually has to reel Yuu back from their anger towards Farena, Kifaji, and everybody else. Farena's feelings are mixed but he's happy to realize that Leona has somebody who genuinely sees him for himself. He realizes Leona's closer to Yuu in the short time he's known them, then he is to Farena.

Oh man. So I headcanon, at least in this AU, that mer mamas are fiercely protective of their kids and bigger then their male counterparts. I think Azul's mama and the twin's mama would both show up at the school because, hell or high water they are going to meet their long lost child! No noisy crowman is gonna stop them!

🦈🐬 The twins mama in particular is downright scary. Imagine this really tall lady showing up at NRC. She's really nice to the kids but when she meets Crowley she gets that look on her face and tone and ohh yes, now you realize that she's far more scary then the twins if she wants to be. She squeezes the twins excited to see them but they absolutely have to bring her to Yuu. I see it like when Sophie and her mom are reunited in Howl's moving castle. Excitedly yelling "my baby!" While practically tackling Yuu, crying her eyes out. Holding Yuu's face and bombarding them with questions. Were you taken care of? You look so small! Were you being fed enough? Do we need to send you an allowance? These clothes look dreadful we must get you a new wardrobe. Worried Mama mode activated. Mama bought ready to drag Yuu home but compromises by Yuu coming home during spring break. At least it gives them time to prepare Yuu's room.

🐍 Now, Jamil's family is probably the only ones who actually don't know. Jamil is willing to bury the fact that Yuu is his sibling because, he realizes that if he tells the truth, he's potentially locking Yuu into a lifetime of servitude. There's only a few people on campus who know the truth. Kalim absolutely knows but he promised Jamil he wouldn't reveal it, but it's like how he was willing to fight against Jade's UM because his conviction to keeping Jamil's UM hidden is that strong. Kalim would love to see the two being siblings openly, but he still tries in his own Kalim way

👑 Ohh, this one's interesting. So we know zero things about Vil's mother. So, in this AU, Vil's father Eric used a surrogate. The thing is, the surrogate hid the fact she was pregnant with twins(listen if Lilia can just find a baby and people are chill with it then we can headcanon how adoption and surrogacy works in Twst). Carefully orchestrating it so Eric only knew about one baby. Thus when the twins were born she handed over Vil and disappeared with Yuu. Nobody can track down this woman or the other baby. Eric and Vil never even knew another baby existed. So, imagine Eric's surprise when Vil calls him after book 6 asking if his father knew about a second child. Yuu finally getting to meet Eric in person, and he apologized to Yuu because he didn't get to see them grow up. Eric asking Yuu if it's okay for him to be part of their life. Probably one of the few times Vil has seen his father cry and possibly vice versa.

💀 Cue another excited mama. Oh Idia wants to not involve Yuu in the mess that is the Shroud family curse. But kind of hard, when their hair ignited into the signature shroud flaming hair during Idia's overblot in the middle of S.T.Y.X. She's so absolutely excited that she's trying to ask Yuu 100 different questions, you mean to tell me the Shroud curse didn't developed in Yuu until almost adulthood? Mama is very interested to know about Yuu and their life. Idia almost pities Yuu and Ortho's so excited because his family is all together again! Papa Shroud is much calmer at least.

🐉 Oh I've delved a lot into Malleus and Yuu. I was actually thinking what if... during book 7 when they're in the memories and meet Maleanor. What if she orders everybody to leave except for Yuu. Yuu's so confused because this woman before them feels so familiar, they just watched her nearly strike everybody down with lighting while she yelled at them but the vibe is completely different now. Maleanor being surprisingly gentle with Yuu. Through whatever magic it may be, Maleanor can tell. Yuu crying because Maleanor calls them her precious hatchling and tells them how much they've grown. It's after Malleus' overblot that Yuu finally gets to meet Maleficia. Maleficia who says that Yuu truly looks so much like Revern. Maleficia who welcomes Yuu home.

[3416]

Q: You can play with anyone obviously, but you and Mitch really do have something special together. I'm sure you feel it some nights. What's it like for you to play with him? A: Yeah, it's a lot of fun. It's a lot of fun. I mean, he's an incredible player and a great person and a great friend. So I think we just try to push each other as much as we can and challenge each other to be the best versions of ourself every night. And try to lead the team by example and just do what we can. So I feel lucky to play with a lot of these guys obviously, but the majority of the time, I'm playing with him and he's a special player. So it's just a blast.

Auston Matthews Media Availability | 02.15.24

[munsonsreputation]

i can't talk to you when i'm like this

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: [2.1K]

warnings: warnings: no use of y/n, established relationship, reader has a history of shitty ex's, steve accidentally makes reader cry, a lot of angst regarding past relationships (feelings wise), steve's shitty childhood & terrible dad (brief), fluff at the end (yes because i am a softie)

summary: steve never raises his voice at you, but the first time he does, you can’t find it in yourself to tell him what's really bothering you when you’re seconds away from breaking down.

You hate how the tears coming springing to your eyes the second Steve raises his voice a little too loudly beneath his already apparent annoyance.

Your brain blanks out the second it bellows against the walls and comes hurtling down to your eardrums. It feels like glass shattering in a million different ways, cutting you open and killing you with a thousand cuts.

He’s frozen in front of you, blinking with a look of oblivion on his face because he’s waiting. His arms still held wide open after he asked a question: one that was posed with a tone too sharp for your liking.

“Why are you making it such a big deal?”

His usually sweet and gentle tone was long gone, or at least that’s how you heard it. Instead, it dribbled with irritation and resentment meshed all in one. The kind that sounded like he was fed up and wanted nothing to do with you anymore.

He was just trying to do a sweet thing by picking you both up some coffee and yet here you were starting an argument — you always had to ruin a good thing.

Your teeth dig into your gums, trying to find any way to hold off on the waterworks that you know are about to pour any second now. Cloudy orbs shoot down to your bare feet, trembling against the floorboards while you excuse yourself from the kitchen.

“I’m g-going to the bathroom.”

Your voice is delicate yet not the kind that Steve knows like the back of his hand — the one where you keep it so quiet like an oath when you whisper you love him when you think he’s asleep and no one else is around to hear it.

This time the oath is broken, cracked, just like your voice, torn at the seams between fear and panic. Its edges are frayed and tattered, and its tenderness that is usually formed out of affection is long gone as it cuts through your chest and causes your back to heave as you walk away.

He knows he messed up.

It’s stupid. You shouldn’t be so worked up over the barista leaving her number on Steve’s cup. But you are. You’re worked the hell up and you want him to understand why it is such a big deal to you.

It’s upsetting because you shouldn’t be this wound up and insecure. You know Steve would never even dare to dial the numbers left on the cup, let alone remember the name she left on there. He’s head over heels in love with you the same way you are with him — yet you just don’t get it.

You don’t get the way this makes your insides turn and the thoughts to start whirlwind in your head. At first you were just upset about the number, maybe even just mildly irked — but then the second Steve’s voice came to you like that… that’s when you entirely forgot how to even tell him how you felt.

Now you just felt stupid for making it such a big deal and turning it into this.

“Breathe….” you murmur to yourself jaw trembling as you try not to tense.

The tears finally roll when your back collides with the bathroom door and your shaky fingers lock it shut. Your heart feels like it’s on fire, one that consumes your entire being and engulfs you in the bluest blue instead of the blazing red.

The only thing keeping you from collapsing is the door that’s holding up your weight and it’s not long after that the person you love yet are avoiding is on the other side making it more difficult for you to attempt to make it seem like it’s not a big deal.

“B-baby… I’m so sorry.”

The apology comes in an instant, and you could almost feel his breath hitting your neck from behind the wood. You know it’s genuine…Steve has never ever made you cry. You feel now like you’ve taken everything out of proportion — you should’ve just giggled and said ‘oh that’s cute! too bad you’re my boyfriend!’

All of the things you wished you would have said play in your mind like punishment for the way you’ve acted. How you know you’ve turned the tables on him and made him look like the bad guy when he was far from that.

He was just shocked to come home and hand you your favorite drink only to be asked about the barista he barely gave his attention to. Your accusing voice after he did something nice wasn’t something he was expecting.

Your throat tightened, eyes squeezing shut as you tried to cover it up and make it seem like you weren’t upset. You shuffled from the door, towards the sink, turning it on yet making no move to put your hands under the water.

“I’m fine! I—I just had to wash my face!” You lie, trying to cover your tracks as if Steve doesn’t already know it.

There’s been times when things have upset you, not things that Steve has done, but things that life throws at you and most of the times you hate how wound up you get. Without failure, you sneak away, just wanting a moment by yourself to cry without anyone feeling bad for you or asking questions because they’ll never get it. They don’t understand that the littlest things can trigger something inside of you to completely shut down from the rest of the world.

No one gets it… but Steve does.

“Baby,” His voice is stronger this time, yet tender, “please, can I come in? I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean…”

Your fingers finally come in contact with the frigid water, dabbing the droplets over your eyes attempting to get them to settle instead of looking like you were just crying. There’s a sniffle that comes from you as you clear your airways and a pathetic smile that you press onto your face to try to hide how you’re really feeling.

The water shuts off and you’re opening the door, cutting his apology off altogether.

“I’m fine, Steve!”

Your voice isn’t swaying even with the volume it carries and neither with the faint laugh you give him when you meet face to face. Your lashes still bear the droplets of salt and your cheeks tinted red with the path they’ve traveled down.

He can feel the pain in your voice and see the wobble of your chin as you hold back everything inside. He hates that you feel like you have to mask how you’re really feeling when, in actuality, you should be furious at him for what he did.

“Baby,”

Sadness joins his concern, and he doesn’t bother to hide it — he’s not sure he can when his eyes leak the same emotion, “Baby, you’re not fine…I know you’re not fine.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes unconvincingly. “I literally am, babe… it’s cool. Everything is fine.”

He knows that now you’re trying to reassure yourself rather than him. Trying to play it off and make it seem like everything was okay. Like he’s just supposed to accept it and let you hold everything inside like torture when that’s far from what he wants.

Your attempts to brush past him are futile when his hands come out to hold your shoulders, his fingertips kneading your tense skin. He can feel the blood rushing from under your clothes and it’s not the kind of warmth you usually carry — you are blistering and if he looks hard enough, he can see the way your chest is trying to level itself out as you hold back.

It takes everything in you to not draw your eyes away from his because you don’t want him to know that you’re still feeling it. Feeling stupid and at the same time nothing at all because you don’t know what to feel anymore. There’s a whirlwind of emotions and none of them you can put a finger on because you’re just lost.

You just don’t want him to think you’re crazy… like you reacting to him raising his voice like that was something that would daunt him away.

One of his hands stops its movement on your skin, raising up to your cheek and cradling you gently. There’s a crease between his brows and his eyes seep with regret and guilt. His lips part and the words that leave them come in whispers and fragility — croaks and cracks guiding them.

“Everything isn’t fine… I acted like an idiot and raised my voice at you. I’m sorry baby, I—I never meant to do that on purpose. It just came out, but that isn’t an excuse.” He shakes his head at himself disappointingly because he knows better.

Steve was far from perfect in his own eyes, but he knew better because all his life if there was one person he didn’t want to be like, it was his dad. The dad that used to scream at his mother, and scream at him, and scream at the world when everything went wrong, and didn’t know how to talk if it wasn’t screaming.

He’d never forgive himself if he made you feel that way or even became a smidge of what his father was. But it wasn’t him who he was blaming for this — this was all Steve himself, and he knew that. Accountability needed to be taken from himself because the only person he was hurting was you and it was going to be okay.

Not in the heat of the moment, not ever.

You hadn’t even noticed you had tugged your bottom lip between your teeth, the faint taste of iron trickling onto your tongue when you realized you were biting down on the skin too hard trying to stop yourself from crying.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry baby, please just—just tell me how to make it better.” His voice pleads and reasons, wanting to make it right with you anyway he could.

You close your eyes, letting the tears fall as you feel his thumbs wipe them away. He’s done this times before, wiping away your tears that had spewed from another’s doing. Never did he ever think he would be the cause.

“I-it’s nothing… it’s stupid, I’m stupid and dramatic.” You swallow thickly, sniffling and twisting your fingers in your hand to fight off the lingering feelings.

He shakes his head. The obvious look of disapproval for your words covers his face because this was far from your fault. Sure, he was bewildered about the whole incident, considering he didn’t even know the number was left there until you brought it up, but for him to not know how to convey his frustration better was the real issue at hand.

Not the accusation, not the stupid number, not the oblivious girl who left her number: it was him, Steve’s idiotic actions that got you both here.

“Stop, don’t talk to yourself like that.” He insists, staring deeply into your eyes, searching for a reason why you were blaming yourself,

Your jaw shakes roughly before a sob rips through your mouth. Tightening your eyes to try to get the tears to stop, yet they don’t cease no matter how hard you try. Frustration builds inside of you because you should be over it by now. The fact that he apologized and was here trying to comfort you should be enough.

But something inside of you won’t let it die. The silence is filled with the memory of his voice shouting at you and the face that he stared back with.

“I—I don’t want you to think there’s something wrong with me.” You croak, covering your face and turning away from him to save you the embarrassment.

But he strays to where you are, sticking beside you with a comforting hand resting on your back, “Sweetheart, nothing is—”

You sob one more, this time with a grunt that is direct to yourself. Stomping your foot against the cold tiles, your hands come down to grip the edges of the counter tightly. Your reflection in the mirror is only half of what you feel, and when Steve steps behind you, all you can see is guilt, but at the same time patience knowing he’s ready when you are.

You try your very best to at least keep your sobs at bay just enough for you to speak through them and for him to understand.

“You’re not gonna wanna be with me anymore knowing I can’t—I can’t talk to you when I’m like this! I don’t know why, but I can’t… it makes me feel stupid, like I’m crying over something so tiny and now I’ve totally forgotten why we were even arguing in the first place.”

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head and reaching in front of you to bring your hair back and away from your face. His eyes keep yours in the mirror, watching at you with such a gentleness that even now doesn’t falter.

“We weren’t arguing. I was just dumb and raised my voice when you were asking me about it.”

You move your sights from his to the bottom of the sink, shaking your head, “No, b-but I shouldn’t have reacted like that and made you look like the bad guy when yo—”

Your voice is traveling faster than you can think, spewing out words so hastily like you have to make him understand that it’s not his fault, but yours. It takes your breath away, hiccuping and coughing between a sob that leaves your mouth and bobbles in your chest.

Steve’s instantaneously rubbing your back, shushing you and trying to get you to calm down knowing you going on and on like this wouldn’t do you any good. He understands that you feel a lot of things very deeply and sometimes it isn’t an easy task to get them all out at once: he knows it and he’ll spend forever with you until you got it all out.

“Hey, hey, baby, c’mon… breathe,” He coos, his palm never stilling on your back feeling the deep breaths in and out, watching the tears fall down your cheeks and drip onto the counter.

It’s a kind of scene he hates to see, the one he wishes he could take from you and shoulder instead because watching you in such a state breaks his heart more than he could imagine. And this time it stings a little more knowing that he not only cannot shoulder your pain, but was the one creating it this time.

“Talk to me, please. What’s going on? Why’re so you upset at yourself and not at me?” He begs, trying to get a glimpse of what you’re feeling so he knows where the root is.

“B-because… I made it such a b-big deal.” You hiccup.

When you swipe angrily at your eyes with a ferociousness, that’s enough to make Steve step in and take it from here now that he knows where you’re coming from. A warm hand comes down onto your shoulder, pulling at you just enough for you to face him completely, weakly hanging your head low not knowing if you were strong enough to see him just yet.

“You didn’t make anything a big deal. I promise, we’re okay.” He whispers quietly, cupping your face in his hands, and bringing you face to face, “You’re not stupid and I could never think that you were. You’re human honey. It’s normal for you to be upset by things.”

“B-but I…I don’t want you to think you did something wrong—“

He stops you with a shake of his head. “But I did. I did something so wrong. I yelled when I shouldn’t have, and I made you feel like shit.”

Steve desperately needs you to know it. That this was his fault and no one else’s. That him making you feel like crap was the worst thing he could have ever done, but he was willing to man up to it and try to make things better, and at the same time he would understand if you wanted nothing to do with him after this.

Still, even after his words, you’re somehow even angrier at yourself, mind blaring at you for being such a dramatic person for making him go out of this way with all of this. That this was surely your fault and yours only, and if you didn’t take it off his plate, it was just something he would use against you one day to realize that he didn’t want to be with you anymore.

It’s what they all did — held it over your head and made you feel like you were wrong for feeling how you felt, so instead it was best not to feel anything at all. To hide it away and hope that being noncombative meant that everything was going to be okay and it wouldn’t give them a reason to run.

“I-it’s my fault—” You pinch your eyes, gulping back a cry as you shake your head in his hands.

His brows pull together, eyes squinting at you, not completely understanding why you’re doing this.

“Hey, stop, it’s not your fault. Don’t do that. Don’t take the fall for me,” Steve assures you with a sternness to his soft voice, continuing to wipe the seeping tears.

Somehow you can’t let it go, “But—”

“But nothing.” He starts, his voice composed yet unyielding in his tone.

He can’t stand it, clutching your face a little firmer, hoping that you would peek your eyes open to see him because he desperately needs you to. The second you do, your face twists again with heartache, praying that he would just let you go and walk out already, because by now, he probably thinks you’re insane — there’s no way he’s not thinking it.

His lips part, trying to find the right words to say, needing the perfect ones to get through you because he hates how you won’t let him take the fall, the one he so rightfully deserves to come crashing down on. You are everything to him and in some ways the feelings that you feel hit him right in the heart, and right now is no different, but there’s a wall between you both and his only goal is to knock it down completely.

“I—I don’t know why you feel like you have to protect me, but I promise you don’t.” He whispers, watching as you try to calm yourself, little sniffles going in and out and broken cries leaving your mouth.

His thumbs rub back and forth across your cheeks, soothing your withering skin. Slowly but surely your cries die little by little, eyes fixed on his, trusting that he means everything that he says, because Steve isn’t like the others — something that you should’ve known judging from his character alone.

“If I do something that makes you upset or sad, you should be able to voice that, not keep it in. I don’t ever want you to feel like you can’t tell me when I’ve done something wrong. I—I want you to feel safe and okay around me, enough to know that my love for you isn’t gonna change, just because you bring something up. You have every right to be upset, and angry, and disappointed, everything.”

He says it like he means it and you know it’s because he does. He lets every word hang from the stars as if he put them up there, and points them out just for you to know that they are there and true, because that’s all he ever wanted. For you to know that every word he speaks comes from his heart, and no matter how many times he needs to repeat it, he’ll do it over and over again, just so you know it’s real and until you believe them and know he won’t ever break them.

“Don’t ever blame yourself for me, please? I-I don’t want you to do that to yourself because I’m here and…and every time I fuck up or make a mistake, I swear I’m gonna own up to it and try to fix it. But I’m not gonna let you take the blame, okay?”

Being with Steve for so long still feels so new, especially when you know he isn’t like the rest of the boys from your past. He’s patient and kind with a big heap of understanding. Like everyone else in the world, he’s guilty of his own poor moments, but he’ll be damned if he takes that out on you or makes you feel like it’s your responsibility.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” He murmurs, letting his hands fall away from your face, letting you decide what the next move is.

The tears that escape are more so in between the remains of the sadness being washed away with tears of love and gratitude. Your arms wrap around his torso, pulling yourself into him and burying your face into his chest where the tears soak through his chest. Without a second thought, his arms envelop you, rocking you both back and forth as he presses kisses on the top of your head.

It mends your heart not merely because he’s just sorry, but because you didn’t get plenty of sorries before. Left only with sweeping things under the rug and pretending like nothing ever happened — it never solved anything and never gave you much.

But Steve gives you everything and so much more.

A big chunk of you feels like you don’t deserve him because he seriously is the best person with an even better soul wrapped up into one and yet he chooses you — every day. He sees you through all the good and the bad and never makes you feel like you’re alone even when you could be a distance away when you’re right beside him.

When you talk too much, say too little, or sometimes say nothing at all — he’s there giving you a listening ear and comforting shoulder to lean on whoever you need it. And on the days when you can’t talk to him when you’re like this… he’ll wait until you’re ready and show you that he’s always going to be there every step of the way.

He’s everything you could have asked for and more.

You pull your face away from hiding, resting your chin up on his chest as you stared up at him.

“I’m sorry too. I—I shouldn’t have been so indifferent earlier and just told you what I was feeling from the get-go.” You sniffled, rubbing your hands over his back, smiling faintly when he nodded understandingly.

He knows that sometimes he might not quite get it, might not see things in the same light as you, but he would never try to dismiss your feelings. He would sit beside you through the storms and sunshines, knowing that he was learning more about himself and you with you in his life.

That because of you, the younger version of himself got to heal his deepest wounds and open himself up to a love he only through he could dream up. You were here making him a better version of himself, all while he was doing the same for you. Showing you that the scars and fears of your past didn’t have to live in the next person you met — that you could let it go and open yourself up to the love you deserved.

His love.

“I forgive you only if you forgive me,” Steve grinned, swiping away at the dampness on your cheeks.

You grinned, nodding up at him. “Of course, I forgive you.”

“I love you so much… nothings ever gonna change that.” He hummed, cupping your face, taking you all in for the person he loved so dearly.

You closed your eyes blissfully before a kiss was placed on your lips.

“I know, I love you too.”

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: hi all, I hoped you like this little one-shot/imagine... i had this one sitting in my wips for awhile and it was nearly finished but I didn't have the inspiration to finish it until now. I don't usually write angst bcs i am a fluff girl, but this concept just came to me bcs like a lot of people when someone raises their voice at me...i just freeze and i don't know what to make of it and i just start crying. i think steve would be super apologetic and i wanted to write this bcs i needed some stevie!comfort so yeah... i hope you all enjoyed!!!

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3

[getmeoutofhell]

I’ve Been Waiting

w/: ethan landry

request: hi!!!! could you write a ethan landry x reader smut but like they’re enemies and having a very heated argument about something when he just wants to shut reader up and kisses her roughly after saying something like “god, just shut the fuck up already” or idk and they end up hate-fucking😭 really want the dom!ethan x sub!reader trope like with degrading and maybe some praising too🙏🏻😭 also tbh i really really like your writing you’re amazing

summary: sam sent ethan to your place to get her jacket she left. you hate ethan, but he doesn’t wanna hear it.

a/n: hey my love, ofc i will write this for you!! you’re so sweet.

warnings: smut, cussing, degrading, arguing & let me know if i missed something!!

“listen you fucker!!” you yell at ethan.

“who the hell you think you’re talking to y/n? you’re the one who started this whole thing in the first place.” if looks could kill, ethan would’ve been dead.

“ethan shut the fuck up. i said something to you first because you kept looking at me weird ever since you got here.” which was true, he did keep giving you looks ever since he came over. you had no idea why sam sent ethan over here to get her jacket. but there’s nothing you can do about it now.

you saw ethan roll his eyes like he always does before he spoke again. “oh my god you’re so damn dramatic. like jesus do you ever just sit and think about anything before you go off?” you would be damned if you sat here and let ethan talk to you like that.

even tho you were seated, as soon as he said that you stood back up. “what the fuck is wrong with you, huh?! you’ve never liked me in the first place so i have a right to question the way you act towards me. you’re the damn prob-“ before you could finish your sentence you were cut off with ethan smashing his lips into yours.

you were in shock, so you barley kissed back at first. ethan then pulled back.

“just shut the fuck up already.”

you didn’t have time for a reaction before ethan said something again. “i know what you want.” he said to you. even tho his kiss was nice, your anger still showed. so you put your hand on each of his shoulders to push him back away from you.

“don’t act like you didn’t want me to do that.” you only started at him in response. maybe he was right, but you’d never tell him that.

he then pulled you to your bedroom.

“you’re so pretty y/n.” he whispered to you as his fingers glazed over your delicate skin. you had no idea why you waited this late for him, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything right now.

“stop fucking taking.” you mumbled back. you softly moaned as he kissed up your neck. “you’ve been waiting for me to fuck you, huh?”

your no response gave it all away. as much as you’ll deny your love for him, it was clear as day that you had some type of feelings for ethan. his voice and nerdy personality drew you in the first time y’all spoke to each other. but your hate for him still showed.

his hands then went to the him of your pants. he started to tease and play with you.

“ethan, stop playing around and fuck me already.”

he smirked at you.

“be patient slut.” he spoke. you would be lying if you said his voice wasn’t making you more wet then you were already were.

you wanted to beg him please but stopped yourself before the words slipped out.

he looked at you with lust filled eyes as his hands pulled your panties to the side. god, he was beautiful. gorgeous eyes and lips. you wanted to reach up and kiss him, but didn’t.

his index finger started rubbing your clit in slow circles, gathering your wetness. you were slowly getting fed up and he noticed. smiling at you, ethan started going faster and adding another finger.

“is this what you wanted baby?” he asked you. you almost whined at his words, but before you could say anything you felt two of his fingers slide inside of you. your eyes closed as your head went back into the pillows below you.

“mm.” you moan slightly as his thick fingers slide in and out of you. it felt so good you couldn’t help but ask him to go faster, which he did.

“ethan, i’m gonna cum don’t stop.” you tell him. just as your about to orgasm he pulls out.

“ethan why did you stop?” you were angry, but not so much.

“i couldn’t waste a beautiful orgasm on my fingers. i need to feel you cum around me princess.” him saying that made your face feel hot, as you felt your pussy clench around nothing.

“whatever.”

not even 5 minutes later ethan is sliding inside of you. his hands on your hips as he stretches you out. you take a deep breath as he looks at you before looking between y’all’s bodies.

“fuck look at that pretty pussy taking me in.” you slightly smirk at his comment before his hand trails up to your throat, lightly squeezing. before you could say anything, his starts speeding up inside of you, causing you to moan loudly.

“fuck ethan! mm.” his face moves next to your ear as he whispers to you.

“how long have you been waiting for be to do this? you’re so wet.” he grunts in your ear before going deeper inside you. he felt so fucking good inside of you, skin on skin could be heard all around the room. you couldn’t help but moan his name once more as another orgasm started approaching.

you and ethan were both moaning and close to cumming. “can i…cum inside you baby? please.” he almost whines out at you.

“yes, please ethan.” not even a second later you feel him groan one last time as his hot cum fills you up. you clench around him one last time before you cum over him. his fingers rub your clit, helping you with a better orgasm.

your legs are shaking, and your struggling to catch your breath. ethan looks at you again, but you didn’t notice since your eyes were closed. his weren’t filled with lust, but with something else, love.

heyy!! i hoped you enjoyed!

masterlist!

[wishcamper]

Cassian Appreciation Week Day Six: Birthday

here's a late night submish for birthday day for @cassianappreciationweek inspired by a summer i spent in the Outer Banks and some hardcore 2017 nostalgia

You can read it here or on ao3!

Hands Down

In which Nesta avoids her life in New York, and accidentally helps Cassian avoid his birthday.

CW: brief mention of rape, addiction, and verbal abuse

The words are hushed, let's not get busted Just lay entwined here, undiscovered Safe in here from all the stupid questions "Hey, did you get some?" Man, that is so dumb Stay quiet, stay near, stay close, they can't hear So we can get some My hopes are so high that your kiss might kill me So won't you kill me, so I die happy? My heart is yours to fill or burst, to break or bury Or wear as jewelry, whichever you prefer. “Hands Down”, Dashboard Confessional

The warm blanket of the sun lay over her skin, cares drifting off with every gentle gust of the wind, gulls crying overhead instead of traffic, the smell of salt and sunscreen instead of smog.

The beach was beautiful, paradise, but mostly Nesta was just so fucking glad to be away from her life.

A Hot Girl Summer was exactly what she needed, according to her friends, at least to get the hell out of New York for the summer. There was no better way to reclaim herself than to join Emerie in her oceanside hometown, they said, to help her aging parents run the hotel they’d owned for decades on the Outer Banks. And on their days off to lounge on the sun-drenched beach drinking White Claws and talking shit and ranking the steamiest passages from their respective novels.

And, of course, checking out The Lifeguard.

They called him The Lifeguard because they didn’t know his name, but Emerie and Gwyn were too perceptive not to notice Nesta had been ogling him every chance she got. Forbidden catnip man , Gwyn sometimes called him, as he was everything Nesta denied she was attracted to even though she totally was: long hair, rough around the edges, covered in tattoos. Just admit you have a thing for men who look like they’ll ruin your life, Emerie said.

Nesta’s typical type skewed more straight-laced, finance guys and trust fund yuppies, or else the semi-starved academics who could quote Salinger but couldn’t find the clitoris. There was a comfort in knowing they’d turn out to be shitty, but it was all so fucking shallow, the idea of a couple instead of two people really into each other. In the end she got fed up, or they cheated, or some stupid argument made it clear that things were going nowhere.

It was never surprising, but the breakups always left her with a pit of self-doubt deep inside, that perhaps she was really the common denominator in all these relationships, that the treatment she got was earned.

And then there was Tomas. Her ex-fiance was different from the others, which she’d first thought was a good thing - understated, from a working-class family. Nothing electric about their dynamic, but steady, normal. He didn’t embarrass her at work events, didn’t flirt with her sisters. He would cat-sit occasionally for a friend, which she saw as a green flag. They dated for a few years without incident, and so when he proposed in front of Bethesda Fountain in Central Park, Nesta thought to herself, This is fine. 

I can make this work. I can figure out how to be happy.

Over the next year the venue was booked, dress bought, her conservative mother finally gave up on a religious ceremony. Then three months before the wedding Nesta got a DM from a girl claiming she’d slept with Tomas after meeting him at the Biergarten at The Standard. 

Nesta remembered that night vividly. Tomas had told her he wasn’t feeling well, and she’d assumed he didn’t answer her texts because he was sleeping, going so far as to send an Instacart delivery to his apartment with food and medicine.

The girl had receipts, and Nesta’s self-respect had no choice. When she’d gone to his apartment to break things off he verbally attacked her, spewing a laundry list of her worst fears. That if she’d put out more regularly, been more affectionate, a better fiance, he wouldn’t have needed to cheat on her. That what she saw as her autonomy was actually his inconvenience, and she was selfish for wanting it in the first place. Nesta remembered his face twisting with fury as if his skin was splitting open, revealing the monster who’d lived inside all along as she wondered if this was all her fault.

So she preferred to admire The Lifeguard from afar, afraid of what might emerge if she were to do something he didn’t like. Perhaps more afraid that something about her brought that side out in the men she dated, whatever flaw lay within.

They were giggling about Gwyn’s book now, a little tipsy from a few hours on the beach, the hum of a four wheeler passing by. Nesta felt the muscle between her neck and shoulder relax for the first time in months. She turned back to a juicy part in her own novel when a shadow blocked the sun, and she looked up to find The Lifeguard standing over her with a smirk on his stupid, handsome face.

“Oh it’s you! Nesta’s Life-” Gwyn said brightly, and Nesta suppressed the urge to kick her, though thankfully her friend caught herself. “-long dream is to, is for me to learn how to.. Surf? We saw you out with your friend the other day.””

Nesta would’ve covered her face in her hands if his eyes didn’t slide to her then, stealing all the breath from her fucking lungs. God, it had to be a crime to be that good-looking. Curly black hair thrown up in a bun, tattoos over his tanned chest and shoulders that would’ve looked douchey on anyone else, anyone who didn’t have the muscles for them to dip and swirl across. He had an annoyingly nice smile that made her want to be mean to him, though something about those mischievous hazel eyes made Nesta think he’d probably like it.

“That is very specific. I’d love to once you get rid of those,” he said, pointing to the cans buried in the sand beside them. “You know you can’t drink on the beach. I’m gonna have to ask you to pour those out.”

The Lifeguard smiled then, and she saw he had a dimple that made her want to chug her drink in front of him defiantly. His accent was like honey whisky. A giant red buoy was slung across his back, but he was so huge Nesta could only see the top poke over a tattooed shoulder, which annoyed her for some reason. Her voice came out harsher than she meant it to when she sat up on her elbow.

“Are you kidding? We’re not bothering anyone.”

“I know, but I really need to go bust those douchebags and they’ll give me shit if I leave y’all alone,” he said, crouching down right next to Nesta’s towel so he could whisper conspiratorially, indicating over his shoulder at a group of twenty or so frat guys who’d been at it for a while. “I’m telling you to pour it out. If it happens to fall into a cup on the way, like say the cups we have at the guard stand over there, then so be it.”

His breath smelled like cinnamon and Nesta felt her friends vibrating behind her from holding in their giggles, praying her face looked red from the sun and not her mortification.

“Fine. Thanks.”

“Thanks. And if you do ever want me to teach your.. friend how to surf, you know where to find me.” The Lifeguard had the audacity to wink at her then before standing and walking up the beach without so much as a backwards glance, Gwyn and Emerie dissolving into excited conversation the moment he was out of earshot.

“Nesta! Why didn’t you ask for his number?” Gwyn whacked Nesta on the arm, exasperated.

“Because he was reprimanding us, hardly sexy.”

“Mm, speak for yourself,” Emerie said, they all turned to watch him walk toward the rowdy group of guys, his red shorts hiding nothing.

Suddenly, The Lifeguard stilled, his body rigid and attention drawn to the shoreline. Nesta turned her head to where he was looking and saw nothing, but before she knew it a flash of red streaked by and he was racing toward the water, rescue buoy in hand, diving into the waves and paddling with strong arms toward where Nesta could now just make out a young boy’s head slipping under the water.

Activity exploded around them - the screeching of a whistle, another guard racing back to speak into a radio at the station, red light flashing atop it. People were standing and pointing, chatter sweeping down the beach and The Lifeguard had almost reached the boy who still wasn’t resurfacing, water spraying around him before he dove, the buoy a startling marker of where both were underwater now in the churning sea. Nesta felt dizzy and realized she was holding her breath, the seconds stretching into years in her mind until two heads broke the surface and all the air rushed out of her, mesmerized by the way he gently guided the child to the float and smiled .

Then he turned so his back was to the beach and began to kick toward the shore. She could see the boy nodding as if The Lifeguard were speaking to him, giving him instructions, before he tipped his head back and let himself be pulled. When they reached the surf another guard ran down to meet him, and Nesta realized an ambulance had arrived, two EMTs jumping out in preparation.

The next half hour was a whirlwind of flashing lights and higher-ups coming to file reports, gawkers and bottleneckers crowding the parking lot. Nesta saw The Lifeguard chewing out who she guessed was the kid’s father, a man so drunk he leaned against the guard station to stay upright, sunburnt with unfocused eyes.

At last the ambulance cleared the parking lot, no lights or sirens as the boy was awake and talking. Emerie said it was probably protocol to get evaluated for something called ‘dry drowning’.

“Yeah, it can kill you even hours after you get out of the water. Not worth the risk.”

The Lifeguard had come up behind them somehow and was watching the ambulance turn onto the main road. Gwyn beamed in that way she did where her face became the sun, grasping him on the forearm.

“That was really impressive. I’m so glad you were able to get to him.”

“All in the job,” he said vaguely, waving a bored hand. Nesta couldn’t help but notice it was shaking. “Let’s talk about nicer things. Are y’all working here for the summer or just visiting?”

“I grew up down in Kill Devil Hills,” Emerie said, shading her eyes to look up at him. “My parents run The Windhaven. Gwyn and Nesta are escaping New York for the summer with me.”

“You might know my friend Rhys’ family, the Nights.”

Emerie snorted. “You mean the Nights who own half of Corolla? Yeah, I know them.”

“I’m Cassian,” he said directly to Nesta then, a look in his eyes she didn’t recognize, and that feeling of wanting to be mean to him rose once more. “We’re having a party tonight if you want to come by.”

There was a shuffle in which Gwyn and Emerie somehow couldn’t find their phones, forcing Nesta to hand over hers for The Lifeguard - Cassian - to put his number in. He typed for an absurdly long time as he and Emerie continued to chat about people they both knew before handing the phone back to Nesta, turning to leave with a little salute.

“So we’re going right?” Gwyn said, bouncing up on her toes with a vigor usually reserved for karaoke night at The Brass Monkey.

“Oh absolutely,” said Emerie. “I have to see how disgustingly huge their house is.”

Nesta ignored their matching grins and looked at her phone to where this supposed mansion was, how much of a pain it would be to go. Cassian had sent a text to himself, an address for somewhere in the Four Seasons complex, and saved his number as ‘Nesta’s Lifeguard’. 

It was followed by an emoji of waves and, absurdly, a bat.

—

Cassian couldn’t believe he was sitting across from the hottest woman he’d ever seen and it was his birthday and she was at his house and oh god there were so many ways this could go wrong.

Mor went all-out for his birthday as usual, flickering lights in the magnolias, Jell-O shots and jungle juice, her signature ‘Get Everyone Laid’ playlist pouding from the outdoor speakers of the giant Night estate. It still boggled his mind sometimes how wealthy she and her cousin were, despite living in proximity to it for nearly two decades.

Cassian wasn’t in the mood for celebrating though, his body still humming with adrenaline after the close call on his shift. He’d swallowed the more colorful insults he’d wanted to hurl at the kid’s father, recognizing it was his own shit coming up, the past becoming present as his therapist would say. His image of his own deadbeat dad was rotten at the best of times, though it always festered more strongly on his birthday.

There wasn’t any use in running from the facts: his father had raped his mother, she’d given birth to him while addicted to heroin, and then he’d been in the system long enough to leave a few scars before getting a long-term placement with the Nights. They’d tried over the years to make his birthday a happy time, but it never took. And so another sad kid hated his birthday, then turned into an adult who pretended it didn’t happen. Case fucking closed.

But Mor wanted a party, and so a party they were having. And Cassian couldn’t be too annoyed with her given it was the perfect opportunity to ask The Librarian to speak to him for more than five chilly seconds.

Nesta, a name as unique and lovely as she was. Not the name he’d imagined for her when he snuck glances from the chair, though he’d never pegged her as a Brittany or a Chelsea or any else so common. In his head he started calling her the Librarian, because every day he saw her she had a new book, and every day she’d leave having finished it. God, she was so, so far out of his league.

He’d nearly choked on his beer when she and her friends walked through the back gate, drawn by the sounds of the party in full swing. Azriel clapped a knowing hand on his shoulder and pushed him forward, encouraging, as if Cassian weren’t already spearing toward her to intercept her group before Mor or Rhys tried to hijack them. They both loved to compete over women, and though Mor had the better average Rhys was the winner for repeat customers. Cassian himself had the highest count the first few weeks of summer, but he’d dropped off the ranking altogether the first time The Librarian laid down in front of him on her powder blue towel.

Cassian showed them around to buy time, the cavernous house large enough to get lost in. Her redheaded friend was fascinated by the elevator, but he saw the way her sunset sound-colored eyes lingered on the secluded porch swing, wondered if she was picturing herself curled up there with a book.

From there the evening went surprisingly well, all told, his friends giving him a wide enough berth which they likely considered a birthday gift. Once Nesta shot a few glares at them when they tried to hover nearby, eavesdropping, and Rhys winked at him over her shoulder, crossing himself for prayer and mouthing Good luck .

But Nesta seemed to like talking to him for some reason, didn’t try to drift away or lose him like women did when they weren’t interested. He even managed to be funny despite usually losing all his wits when he really liked someone, which was a blessing as it allowed him to hear her tinkling laugh above the music. A lock of her hair brushed his shoulder when she tipped her head back and he was so fucking gone, so nervous about doing something to mess this up.

As the party wound down they ended up on a couple of sun loungers pushed together by the pool. Cassian was mystified that Nesta was still here, still talking to him about New York, tide patterns, his childhood cat Devlon. There was nothing she didn’t have an opinion about, and when her smooth leg brushed his, the coconut scent of her lotion begged him to run his tongue all the way up to where her freckle-dusted skin disappeared beneath her shorts.

Cassian excused himself before he lost his head, and once back in the kitchen for a refill Rhys and Mor cornered him, demanding to know why he wasn’t halfway inside The Librarian already.

“Y’all are creepy, you know that?”

Mor’s tongue was bright blue from the Jell-O shots when she stuck it out at him, Rhys’ waving a bored hand in front of his face. “You never wait this long. You must be head over heels.”

“He is,” Azriel mumbled as he shuffled in, noise-canceling headphones slung around his neck. “He turned down that girl we met at Avalon pier yesterday.”

Cassian said nothing, only stuffed his head farther into the fridge to reach the two non-shit beers he’d stashed in the back. He could smell Mor’s cherry chapstick when she leaned down beside him, her eyes narrowed in scrutiny when he turned. 

“Oh my god, you like her!”

“We’re just talking, nothing is happening.”

They didn’t believe him, obviously, but were kind enough to only smirk after him as he went back outside to where he’d left Nesta lounging on a deck chair. 

“Follow me,” he said furtively, adding when she looked confused, “My friends are being assholes, I don’t want to subject you to that.” They had a few minutes lead time before the vultures descended, and he didn’t want his nosy housemates fucking this up.

“Assholes about what?” She twirled a lock of gold-brown hair around her finger, silver nail polish flashing in the low lights surrounding the pool. “Oh, because you want to fuck me.”

She said it like it was a test he’d already failed, and Cassian was so caught off guard by the whole thing his response came out stammering, over-cautious.

“No, no, not at all.”

Her brow furrowed, confusion flickering across her face. “You don’t?”

Just then Mor’s laugh sparkled above them as she heaved the sliding door open and stepped onto the upper deck, followed by Rhys’ voice asking, “Where the hell did Cass go?”

“He better be getting his dick sucked so he’ll stop being so grumpy.”

“A hundred bucks says the closest she gets to his balls is a swift kick.”

Cassian was grateful for the darkness that hid his blush as they crept on silent steps to the end of the dock, past where the lights could pick out their silhouettes against the midnight bay. Back at the house they could see the others playing beer pong now on the deck, Nesta’s red-headed friend - Gwen? - bouncing up and down in victory after making a shot. He buried his surprise that Az had yet to go to bed despite his 7:00am shift start, and couldn’t help but wonder if a certain pair of long, slender legs had anything to do with it.

Smirking to himself, Cassian produced the beers from his hoodie and Nesta cracked one open.

“Done policing my drinking now, are you?”

“Just doing my job, Nes. You’re lucky I didn’t bust you for reading porn in public. There are children around, you know.”

She gave a defiant sniff and sipped her beer primly, the night wind whipping her hair about her heart-shaped face. “If women enjoying their sexuality intimidates you, just say so.”

He grinned, a thrill running through him at how self-possessed she was. Most women he dated were either under- or over-impressed by him, neither one earned, but he felt like Nesta was challenging him to rise to her level, to show up unapologetically as she was.

“You’re the only one who intimidates me, sweetheart, but I get the feeling you like it that way.”

She started shivering once the wind kicked up, and he offered her the hoodie too after a while, the gray fabric swallowing her, long sleeves pooling around her wrists. She looked so fucking cute he had to concentrate hard on what she was saying, though he couldn’t avoid the dopey grin that surely split his face in half watching her wave her arms about as she described their encounter with the rowdy group after he’d finished work. Apparently the guys had tried to pick up Nesta and her friends, albeit unsuccessfully.

“They thought it was going really well. It made me a bit sad for them, actually. Are your friends upset?”

The sharp turn in topic threw him, but Nesta just stared at him in that same increasing way, demanding truth in everything. Cassian swallowed, deciding to chance just that, to tell her what only three other people at that party knew.

“They’re fine, just pissed because I’m not letting them give me alcohol poisoning for my birthday.”

“Today is your birthday?” 

“Yeah.”

“This is your birthday party, the party we’re currently at.” Nesta looked flabbergasted, one hand at her forehead, the other gripping his arm.

“Uh huh.”

She released his arm and quirked her head to the side then, eyes narrowing. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I don’t really feel like celebrating. My birth wasn’t exactly a happy occasion.”

Her expression fell into one of understanding, and Cassian felt the rest of the truth stick in his throat, too dense and painful to dredge up now. Nesta scooted a bit closer and allowed her thigh to rest against his, her skin warm in the night air.

“Is that little boy okay?” she asked quietly, and for a terrifying moment he thought she was asking about his fucking inner child before remembering the rescue earlier.

“Yeah, he’s fine. Well, he has a negligent fucking father, but physically he’s fine.”

Cassian was surprised when she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. He dared to pick up her hand and hold it, and when she didn’t immediately pull away he stroked the back with a thumb, tracing the bones.

“Look, my friends - they can be pushy,” he sighed. “I just want to be clear that I don’t have any expectations of you. I’m having a really good time just doing this.”

“Thanks. I’d gathered as much, but it’s nice to hear out loud. I’ve sort of sworn off men for the moment, anyway.”

Her hair was rippling behind her in ribbons and she looked so beautiful amongst the elements like this, but there was a sadness, a grief about her he’d never noticed before. As her words registered Cassian flipped her hand over and traced the lines of her palm. There was that piercing authenticity again, and it made him feel bold even as he fully expected her to shove him off the dock into the sound.

“Look, I don’t want to be presumptuous but you did come to my party. And I can’t even say it was for the free booze, because that’s the only drink you’ve had all night. Your friends have let you be all night. So if you’ve sworn off men, then why are you here?”

She didn’t answer, looking away, but he felt the pulse of chemistry between them, sharp and aching. Whatever National Geographic pheromones her body was giving off sent him into caveman brain, but even more so he wanted to pull her closer, to press his lips to the soft skin of her neck.

“Why are you here, Nes?” he repeated, squeezing at her hand until she looked back at him.

“Because I wanted to see if I could do it. Talk to a guy and have it be normal, feel nice.” Her voice was shaking, palm turning slick with sweat. “And it has. Thanks.”

They sat in silence for a while after that, listening to the waves lapping against the dock, the quiet rippling of the sound until she launched back into the story of the bros from the beach and they were off once more.

As the moon sank lower he took his phone out and shined it close to the water, pointing out the spade-shaped flounder on the bottom, their creepy, crowded eyes making Nesta shudder and draw her feet up from where they’d been dangling over the edge. Too bright to go gigging , he told her, and a blue crab scuttled by under the light, tiny claws raised with bravado.

“They say nature has an aspiration to be crab-like. Apparently evolution has made and remade crabs around five to six times,” she replied, and his heart was about to explode for wanting to kiss her. 

She was so sharp, so interesting it staggered him. Cassian knew he was right to have named her The Librarian, some freaky premonition, because she knew fucking everything about everything. He ran her through an exhaustive list of topics, her gestures getting more and more animated, smile flashing with the thrill of winning his game. Finally he discovered she knew nothing about constellations, and instead of gloating he pointed out Scorpius and Sagittarius, lining their arms up with her wrist in his grasp, drawing her pointed finger between dots in the sky.

The porch lights back at the house shut off before either thought to look at the time, and Cassian watched Nesta scroll through a few texts, finger twirling once more in her wind-tousled hair.

“Do you need a ride?” he asked, but she shook her head.

“My friends are already home, I was going to get a car.”

“Not many Ubers after 2:00. Let me take you home.”

They walked over to the ocean side and rode down the deserted beach on a pilfered four-wheeler from the guard stand. Moonlight casting everything in a silvery glow, gentle waves lapping at the shore. He told her over his shoulder about a time they’d tricked Rhys into eating a bowl of sea oats when they were younger, drawing forth once more that world-changing laugh.

As the houses grew closer together along the shore he felt her rest her head on his shoulder, and her breath tickled his neck as she yawned quietly. Everything felt very fast and very slow at the same time, some sort of delicious chaos that made him dizzy enough he had to grip the handlebars tighter to avoid tipping over. When they arrived at her house Cassian was punch-drunk and heated, so he was delighted when she accepted his offer to walk her to the door. 

He hopped the fence to unlatch the gate from the inside, didn’t miss the way her eyes roved over his arms when he secured the lock at the top once she’d passed through. They stood there for a moment under the porch lights, moths fluttering, staring as if waiting for the other to say goodnight first so as to not be responsible for ending this.

“I’m trying to think of something rude to say to make you go away, but I’m drawing a blank. I like you,” Nesta said. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, but I do. Like you.”

Then Cassian felt he might like his birthday after all as she leaned upward and kissed him like she meant it.

A few magical moments later she pushed off from his chest and smiled, disappearing into the house, the cool rush of AC carrying the scent of coconut out into the night. He was smiling so hard his jaw might break as he vaulted back over the fence, hopped onto the four-wheeler and drove home as fast as he dared, wind screaming in his ears, though nothing could sweep away the feel of her lips on his, the soft curve of her waist under his hand. The way he felt like he already knew her, had known her forever, and this was just the beginning of something that would change his entire fucking life.

About a mile from the house, Cassian paused to look out over the ocean, the briny tang filling his nose and lungs. Seagrass whispered along the dunes, and he saw the eyes of a ghost crab light up when he pulled out his phone, scuttling toward a thatch of seaweed where it disappeared.

Az: hey i can’t cover your afternoon on saturday, i’m taking the redhead surfing Mor: SO BABY PULL ME CLOSER IN THE BACKSEAT OF YOUR ROVER honestly get a new gimmick, the four-wheeler thing is getting not cute but if it ain’t broke yknow Rhys: Happy Birthday, I hope the prickly one is giving you a nice present. Rhys: I might have already stalked her instagram Rhys: And I also might have sent her sister a dm Rhys: Have fun Cassie 😄

He was about to put the phone back in his pocket when another notification popped up, one that made him feel like his body, his soul, his whole world was made from moonlight.

Cassian’s Librarian 📖🦀: call me later Cassian’s Librarian 📖🦀: i mean it Cassian’s Librarian 📖🦀: i know where you live

[berry-loves-yandere]

Hiiii!!!

I love love love your content!

I have a pretty long request so feel free to ignore it!

Basically, it's a yandere romantic the black phone boys (Griffin is platonic and the rest are aged up to like 16-17) with a kidnapped female reader (who's 16 btw). Like it was 1964, she was 2 years old and the Grabber just kidnapped her as a test run on everything and planned on killing her almost right away. But he grows attached to her when she starts calling him dad, not knowing any better. He keeps her locked in a room upstairs and gives her lots of nice stuff. The Grabber begins kidnapping again in 1976, starting with Griffin but she finds Griffin and helps him hide in a secret room she found that was attached to her room that the Grabber is unaware of. Obviously the Grabber finds out and freaks out, he immediately thinks that Griffin escaped but everyone still seems to be looking for him, so he realizes that Griffin is hiding somewhere in the house. He gets angry with reader, because Griffin wouldn't be able to find any hiding spots without help, so the Grabber hurts her. She continues to save the victims, which causes her to get more and more hurt but after she saves Robin, the Grabber threatens that if she hides the next victim, he'll kill her. So instead, she secretly helps Finney without hiding him.

The rest is up to you! Have a great day/night!

Omfg. This is amazing. And turned out to be the longest oneshot I've ever written and it's gonna have multiple parts because this shit is long as hell. (also I'm gonna assume that Griffin isn't aged up)

(Here is your food my children, I haven't fed you guys in forever. Sorry bout that)

"𝐼'𝓂 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝑒𝓁𝓅 𝓎𝑜𝓊!"

Yandere The Black Phone boys x kidnapped!AFAB!reader:

Warnings: kidnapping, abuse, obsessive behaviours, possessive behaviours, unhealthy mindset, manipulation, The Grabber

(Y/N) was only 2 at the time, how was she supposed to know that this man wasn't her father?

And thanks to calling him 'daddy' (Not in that way you perverted freaks) and not being scared by him, he didn't kill her and instead kept her locked upstairs.

She never knew anything besides the house she lived in.

There were thick wood planks over the windows in her room, so she didn't even know what outside looked like.

The Grabber provided her with fairytales and taught her things other kids learned at school.

He allowed her to roam around the house but never, ever, go in the basement, the basement was always off limits.

(Y/N) abided by this rule, despite how curious she was.

But there were also times when she wasn't allowed to leave her room and it could be for weeks on end but the Grabber never told her why, he just expected her to be compliant, which she was.

As years passed, (Y/N) began to mentally question these odd rules.

And decided to break one rule, after she heard Grabber go in the basement quite frequently for a couple weeks.

She had basically memorized when the Grabber was out of the house, so when he was out, curiosity got the best of her and she opened up the basement.

Inside, she saw a young boy, one that she had seen in the newspaper that she secretly looked at.

The boy saw her and was shocked.

She waved her hand, as if to say, 'follow me'.

He followed her without hesitation, not wanting to be in the dingy old basement any longer.

(Y/N) carefully lead him to her room after closing the basement door properly behind the both of them, and opened the big wooden closet sitting in her room..

She shifted something around until there was a small 'click' sound and she pulled off a wooden panel.

An adult could easily climb through the hole, so someone as small as the boy had no problems with that.

"Stay in this room. I know it's not the prettiest but you're safer here. I'll bring you some food and water or a soda every night." She told him.

"Why can't I leave? I wanna go home." He questioned.

"He'll be back soon. If he sees you outside, he'll hurt you. I don't want you to get hurt. When it's safe I'll help you leave. But be very quiet, this room isn't sound proof." (Y/N) explained.

Hearing the front door open and Samson start barking, she motioned for him to move back, then put the panel back in place and covered it up.

She grabbed a book of fairytales and began reading, pretending that she didn't break one of the main house rules.

She heard the Grabber calling out to her, so she came downstairs.

"You called Daddy?" She answered as she entered the kitchen.

"Did you go in the basement?" He questioned.

"No. Why would I do that? You told me it's all yucky." (Y/N) lied, faking confusion.

"Good. Good. Now go back to your room." He instructed.

"Okay!" She replied before going back to her room.

Once she was back in her room, she quietly panicked while trying to read her book of fairytales.

What made it worse was that she was trying to read BlueBeard, where the maidens who went into the secret chamber got killed by BlueBeard.

She took in shaking breaths, reminding herself that it was going to be fine, everything was going to be okay.

Then there was a yell of frustration and the front door opening and closing again.

"Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit." (Y/N) cussed over and over, frightened for herself and the boy she was hiding.

She took a few deep breaths while reminding herself that the Grabber probably thought the boy had escaped which meant he didn't suspect that he was in a hidden room.

But it would only be a few days before he realized that the boy was still in the house.

Since the door hadn't reopened, (Y/N) hurriedly went to her closet and opened the panel.

"You have to be super quiet for these next few days, okay? He's gonna be looking for you in the house once he realizes that you're not free. I'm gonna give you these snacks to eat since I can't give you anything else when he's looking for you. If I knock once on the panel, then you can quietly eat but if knock twice, don't make a noise." (Y/N) rambled as she handed him the snacks.

The boy nodded and grabbed the snacks before (Y/N) placed the panel back.

She covered up the panel and closed the closet right before the door was loudly opened downstairs.

(Y/N) back down on her bed, going back to reading the same sentence in BlueBeard, over and over again.

Then her bedroom door was slammed open, making (Y/N) flinch.

"(Y/N). Did you go in the basement? Or hear anything weird today?" The Grabber questioned with an eerily calm tone of voice.

"No. I told you that before, remember?" (Y/N) insisted with a shaky voice.

He clicked his tongue before turning away from (Y/N), leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

The next few days the Grabber was constantly checking the newspaper but there was nothing about Griffin's return.

And with that, the Grabber knew that Griffin was still in the house and became instantly angry with (Y/N) because there was no way griffin would find a hiding place without help.

He put on his demon mask with the frown on the bottom half and entered (Y/N)'s room as she was drawing princesses in a notebook.

He made sure the door hit the wall with the amount of force he used to open it, alerting (Y/N) that the Grabber was in her room.

He grabbed (Y/N) by her hair and dragged her off her bed.

(Y/N) yelped in pain but he paid no mind to it.

"Where the hell is he?!" The Grabber shouted.

"Who?" (Y/N) asked, causing her to receive a slap to the face.

"YOU KNOW WHO I'M TALKING ABOUT!" He shouted at her.

"I DON'T KNOW!" She yelled back, earning her another slap.

"YOU BETTER TELL ME WHERE HE IS OR ELSE YOU'RE GONNA BE IN A LOT OF PAIN!" The Grabber told her but she knew better than to tell him.

"I. don't. know." She replied through gritted teeth.

The Grabber then dragged her to the basement by her hair, ignoring her cries of pain.

Once they were in the basement, he began to kick, punch and slap her.

Her wails of pain being the only noise in the otherwise quiet house.

Once he was done taking out his frustration on her, he dragged her back to her room by her hair.

He threw her into her room then locked the door behind him when he left.

(Y/N) was shaking and dry sobbing, unable to move from the sheer torture of just being dragged up and down stairs by her hair, the punch, slaps and kicks just made it worse.

She ended up passing out from the pain.

When she woke up, the Grabber was standing near her with a tray of food.

She could only open one of her two eyes because the other was swollen shut from a harsh punch.

He saw she was awake and gently helped her sit up.

"I know it hurts but that wasn't me. I promise it wasn't." He told her as he placed the tray of food on her lap.

"and he was just a bit angry. I'm sorry. But I bandaged you up. And soon you'll be as good as new!" He said, pretending everything was fine.

(Y/N) instead just broke down and began harshly sobbing into her hands but that didn't stop the tears from landing in her food.

The Grabber tried to comfort her but the minute he laid a hand on her shoulder, her sobs grew more violent.

He decided that it was best to just walk away for the time being until she was calm again.

She kept on crying until she couldn't produce anymore tears from dehydration.

Her sobs turned into light sniffles and she began to eat her tear-soaked food, knowing that it was probably the only meal she would have that day.

She attempted to step out of bed after she finished eating but when she tried to stand up, her legs gave out from under her, crating a loud thud that alerted the Grabber.

He went upstairs to (Y/N)'s room and saw her on the ground, struggling to get up.

He carefully picked her up and placed her back on her bed as she heavily trembled.

This whole experience was terrifying but she knew she had to endure it.

Unbeknownst to her, she would have to endure it multiple times.

End of part 1

[kaisaniku]

wxson au

mostly from the translator: (I wrote this in a very casual and sloppy way.)

[New Energy WH-307] can make the synchronization rate between the human body and machinery reach the highest index, and can also make the decayed human organs or cell tissues get a perfect new life through mechanical grafting. It is undoubtedly ahead of its time and is the pioneering work of the Higgsbury family and a powerful weapon to consolidate its position. This is not only due to its sophistication and irreplaceability, but also due to the "toxicity" that lies beneath the iceberg. The WH-307's energy-using machinery is transferred to the human body as if it were a newborn baby that is always waiting to be fed, and as the energy is consumed, the side effects on the body's functioning increase: moodiness, physical weakness, and an irrational emotional dependence on the energy supplier. In order to keep their bodies functioning properly, users of this energy have to resort to monopolies. ......

Wilson Percival Higgsbury, a fugitive aristocrat who breaks with his family to pursue scientific research in a remote galaxy, meets Woodrow by chance, who has similar aspirations. Woodrow's research into the integration of the human body and machinery is radical, but it's exactly the kind of "fresh blood" that a young lord who's had enough of corrupt stereotypes and deceitful behavior needs. Like Wilson, Woodrow hated WH-307, the "ancestral dregs from the slave society" (they said by their teeth), and vowed to develop a new energy source that was scientifically and politically advanced, which moved Wilson, an idealist, to the point that he wanted to worship him on the spot. Although their temper is a little worse, who can say no to such a peer with a dream and technology? "My name is Wilson ...Percival." A curious coincidence, Wilson did not tell them actually himself is the Higgsbury

Theoretical hypothesis, then collection of raw materials, then experimentation, then theoretical hypothesis, then collection of raw materials, then experimentation... The fun times the two spend together end in a failed experiment. An explosion that left the left half of Woodrow's face down to half of his chest cavity damaged, including his heart. Ironically, the only thing that could have saved them from this kind of injury was the WH-307 ......

Wilson almost cried and brought them home, he really couldn't spare that much thought on other sides, just thinking about how to save his best friend was enough to break him down. Thus, another "energy slave" who could not escape Higgsbury's clutches was forced to be born ......

Wilson's lack of thought on whether the person in question really wants to be saved is reflected in the fact that he almost saves Woodrow and then gets killed by them. "Who the hell are you" "How can I trust you when you've been lying to me all the time" "I don't want to live like this"... ...Woodrow wakes up and strange energies fill half of their body. Wilson had never apologized so many times in his life, knowing that his father had punished him with an "I'm sorry" sentence outside the icy door, he didn't want to say it even if he was freezing his ass off. The two confronted for a long time, Wilson said later and choked up, those tears reminded Woodrow something. The new heart had given them some memories that shouldn't have been stored, and they seemed to remember the sobbing face Wilson had made when he thought they were dead. What to explain those tears if it was all just to control them, the revolutionary. But what if those memories are also artificial? What if the false memories were also a part of controlling them? What is false, what is real, what is the definition of being alive, a series of philosophical and practical questions that make Woodrow feel that he might as well have died in that scientific explosion. But Wilson hugged them even though he knew they could kill him with one hand. "I will never control you, I will never leave you. You're my best friend, Woodrow, and if you really don't believe me, it's the same for me whether I am killed at your hand or die alone in my remorse for you."

Woodrow literally felt as if his artificial heart pumped. It looked like it was him all right, there really was no one else with this foolishness. Finally, they slowly raised that robotic arm and embraced him back, saying SCREW IT, I BELIEVE YOU

The warmth hadn't lasted more than a few seconds when there was a flurry of movement outside the window. Wilson almost jumped up, wiped away his tears and pulled them up, saying I used too much energy to save you, and I would have blurted out a long time ago that I never wanted to have anything to do with my family again, now my dad's sending someone to come after me.

Then Woodrow said, well wouldn't I have just believed you if you had mentioned this from the beginning?

Wilson scratched his head and said it does make sense.

And so began the rebellious career of the two who were doing research while stealing energy to avoid capture.

[ellebakers]

☆ Dangerous

Ethan landry x reader (volturi)

a request from @scream-girl-imagines

Summary : your group of friends thinks you are ghostface since you always go out at night. if only they knew how much darker your secret is.

Warning(s) : blood + mention of death + vampires.

your life was just a race for centuries. literally. your friend samantha was complaining about having a serial killer as a father. your father is an original vampire, who turned billions of people into monsters, including your mother, whom he bit when she was pregnant with you. after your birth, your difference was very quickly noticed. your thirst for blood and your ability to make things move without even touching them immediately interested your father who understood how much you could serve him during battles. you've been running from your father and his group of dictators all your life. there is not a country, not a city that you have not known.

despite having seen the most beautiful wonders of this world, you have never been very happy until this day. the day you met him. ethan landry, your boyfriend. he was sitting at a table in the library where you worked. at night of course.

after weeks of flirting, you went on a date, then two and finally you got together. he then introduced you to his group of friends, who very quickly became your family, but everything was turned upside down the day some asshole decided to brandish the mask of ghostface and began to target your group of friends.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

"i'm fed up y/n." samantha yelled at you.

"why do you disappear every night ?" tara asked.

"admit it's fishy." mindy commented.

you felt the migraine coming. it was certain that they were going to accuse you. but you needed to go out at night to hunt. not with a mask. nor a knife. only with your fangs. thieves, rapists. you were killing bastards. no one would regret them. you understood the apprehension of your friends, but damn it pissed you off.

"are you ghostface ?"

a silence fell over sam and tara's apartment. you turned to the person who had asked the question. grief swept over you when you realized it was ethan.

you took deep breaths to calm yourself down, then you finally spoke. "I understand your doubts but I am in no way guilty of these attacks."

"so where are you disappearing to all these nights ?" asked your boyfriend. you leaned your head against the wall you were leaning against.

"i can not say it."

sam groaned hiding her face in her hands. "damn, why ?"

you were slowly losing patience. you wanted to tell them the truth, but they weren't going to believe you, and even if you didn't, they would be in danger if they ever learned of the existence of vampires.

"i have no right to tell you."

mindy chuckled. "because you are ghostface."

"NO." you screamed, and the glass that was on the table flew across the room and shattered against the wall above the television.

tara gasped then turned her head slightly towards you, terrified. then it was around others doing the same thing.

"how. how did you do that." ethan asked you.

your chest rose and fell rapidly. you were trying to calm yourself down by closing your eyes and taking deep breaths.

"y/n." sam started but you stopped her. "shut up. I'm fed up with your bullshit. I'm not ghostface so get the hell out of me." with these last words you took your jacket and went hunting.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

you spent most of the night hunting. even if you wanted to escape the confrontation with your friends, you had to go back to get your things back.

when you entered the apartment, they were all sitting on the couch. a feeling of fear floated. ethan cleared his throat. "y/n" you cut it off by raising your hand. "stop. i just came to pick up my things."

suddenly, an icy laugh was heard, then a voice. a voice you unfortunately knew too well.

"oh my dear y/n, don't be in such a hurry and stay with us."

you froze in place. unable to believe for a second that he was there. despite your desire to flee, you turned to face this person you knew too well.

once in front of him, you took a deep breath.

"good evening caius."

the blond smiled at you. but not with a warm smile. rather like a maniac ready to attack.

"good evening y/n. it's a delight to see you."

the man walked over to you and took your face in his hands. "you are even more beautiful than when we last met."

you shuddered under his hands. how the hell did he manage to find you.

"what do you want."

he looked from your eyes to your lips. this proximity did not please ethan. caius then ran his hand through your hair. then he pulled violently on it, which made you cry out in pain.

your friends were rushing to help you. "get your hands of her, asshole." ethan exclaimed.

caius raised his eyebrows amusedly. he then turned his gaze to ethan, addressing you.

"the lover, isn't it." he was devouring your boyfriend with his eyes. literally. "he looks delicious."

"do not even think about it."

you threatened him. he turns to you again. "or what."

"you know what I'm capable of. don't test me."

he released you and slowly walked towards your group of friends while informing you of the reason for his visit. "your father requests your presence."

"no. you and the others, including my father. you can fuck off."

caius froze, then slowly he turned to face you. "are you sure of yourself ?"

you were terrified inside, but it was out of the question for you to show. then you nod.

"fine." he suddenly grabbed tara by the neck and pressed her to him.

chad and sam came forward protectively but you blocked their way. "let her go."

the man nuzzled your friend's hair. "she smells so good. do you know how long it's been since i've tasted blood this fresh."

"i'm repeating myself one last time. let her go."

"i'm willing to bet she's even tastier than she looks."

it was the word too much. you threw caius against the wall. obviously without touching him. sam and chad rushed at tara to pull her towards them. the blonde got up with a grunt. "you're going to regret it, you little slut."

you let your true nature shine through and your eyes turned red. he approached you and grabbed you but suddenly you threw him back into the air.

when he was about to attack you again. a voice was heard. "caius. stop." the voice startled you. you then turned and saw marcus.

the man smiled tenderly at you. "good evening my dear." he approached you and placed a kiss on your forehead. you let him. of all your father's accomplices, marcus was by far the one you hated the least. you loved him even more than your own father.

"tell your dog to go." you told him.

"what did you say." a very angry caius asked.

"do i need to remind you who you are talking to ?" marcus asked him.

the blonde growled. "being aro's daughter doesn't make her untouchable."

"wait for me outside." the older of the two men was beginning to lose patience.

caius. furious, went away.

marcus turned to you again. "he's always had a thing for you. that's why he acts like that." you roll your eyes. "i'd rather get burned on a log than be with him." your comment made him laugh, then he turned to your friends.

"good evening. it's a pleasure to meet you despite the circumstances." your friends shared a horrified and terrified look.

their gaze hurt your heart. but you put aside this feeling. "marcus, i don't want to see my dad and you know it."

"i know, but he really needs you to come."

you shrug your shoulders. "why ?"

he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "he wants to kill the cullens."

you widened your eyes. the cullens are a family of vampires. they have helped you more than once.

"why does he want to kill them."

"it seems that renesme, the daughter of bella and edward, has put herself in a bad position. he wants to fight and he needs you on his team."

"it is out of the question."

marcus looked toward the door to make sure caius wasn't there, then he leaned toward you. "i know it. he knows it too, that's why he's going to try to kill you."

you froze when you heard that. "i insisted on coming. i had to warn you."

"does he know the real reason for your coming ?"

he shook his head. "you know what you have to do, don't you."

you nodded. "i'll set off tonight."

marcus nodded and walked away. once sure they were gone, samantha locked the door and turned to you. "what the fuck was that."

"I am a vampire."

some of your friends were nervously giggling, while others were shaking.

"y/n it's not really the time to joke." sam got angry.

you crossed your arms over your chest. "do i look like I'm kidding."

"vampires don't exist." ethan exclaimed.

you turned to him and sighed. "listen. believe me or not, i don't care. i have to leave for italy, so please go back to your business and leave me alone."

your friends were about to retaliate but with a quick step you took your things and left.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

two days had passed since your argument with your friends. you quickly packed your bags and took a direct flight to italy. none of them had tried to reach you. not even ethan, and that hurt you. but you didn't have time to think about it. you were waiting in front of the door of the great hall of the castle where the volturis met.

a man you assumed was a newborn, walked up to you and looked down on you.

"they are ready to receive you."

you rolled your eyes at his condescending tone and followed him. the great hall had not changed. always those idious paintings that sent shivers down your spine. the volturis rose to receive you. all except marcus. strange, he was always present during these kind of meetings.

"my dear child." exclaimed your father, who of course was in the center of the assembly.

he approached to hug you, but you backed away. your gaze cold and expressionless. "i heard you wanted to see me."

he nodded smiling. arg, that psycho smile still scared you so much.

"yes. i guess marcus explained my situation to you."

you sneered. "did he explain to me that you want to kill the cullen family. yes."

aro turned his back on you and walked over to his chair. "well, their child has become reckless. She lives with werewolves and we can't accept that much mixing."

you blinked, trying to figure out the logic. "you want to declare a war for this ?"

he sat down and nodded. "exactly. and i want you to help me."

"why ?"

he clapped his hands like an overexcited child. "because my child. your abilities are necessary for us. you also know where each of them live. you could bring them to me."

you approached him smiling. "my dear father, i'm going to save you a waste of time, here is my answer. no. will not help you kill my friends."

"i knew you would answer this."

he tilted his head to the side and addressed the man who had taken you to the great hall. "let them in."

you frowned and watched the man walk out. then he came back with men who were all pulling people by the hair. your heart almost stopped when you recognized your boyfriend's voice. "let go of me you asshole."

then they brought in the rest of your friends. you advanced towards them but the voice of your father stopped you. "i wouldn't do that if i were you."

you turned to him, frowning. "why ?"

he tapped on the arm of his chair while smiling. "marcus wanted to help them. now he's burning in hell."

you felt your body being invaded by a wave of hatred.

"don't look at me like that. it's all your fault, if your bitch mother killed you when i ordered her to, then marcus would still be alive and your friends would be happy and safe far away."

the tears welled up in you. "oh look at you. you don't deserve my blood running through your veins. by the way." he snapped his fingers and a man grabbed you. ethan and your friends started fidgeting and screaming. "i think it's time to get my blood back."

the man grabs your face and brings a knife to your throat. a voice in your head kept screaming at you. "Do it. DO IT."

you let go then and the man flew in the air and went to impale himself on a point which served as decoration.

aro stood up clapping. "here is my child."

you got up and several men threw at you but you killed them without even touching them. breaking their necks, or gouging out their eyes. while advancing towards your father. his allies stood up but he motioned for them not to move.

"what are you going to do now ?"

you bent down and whispered to him. "burn you in hell."

without even touching him, he burst into flames. the pain made him stand up and scream but you watched him slowly die.

he was pushing his last when you advanced towards your friends to release them. ethan threw himself against you and hugged you. "i was so worried."

you pulled back and ran a hand over his face. "i know. but it's over now."

caius walked towards you quickly. "you think you can come here and kill aro without suffering the consequences, you little bitch."

your friends stood in front of you to protect you. the blonde stopped and laughed. "do you really think you can protect her from us ?"

your friends exchanged a look then in chorus said. "yes."

as the blonde smoked in anger, you pulled your friends by the hand out of the building. once outside, they took turns hugging you. ethan did the last and he couldn't take his lips off you.

you laughed and pushed him gently. tara cleared her throat and tugged your arm lightly. "um, there are strong arms coming towards us."

you looked in the direction she pointed and smiled. "I’ll be right back."

you advanced towards the "big arms" and greeted them.

"is he dead ?." one of them asked you.

"yes. the others are all yours. but I'm counting on you to be discreet."

the man laughed. "y/n you know that discression is not our thing."

you laughed in turn. "i know. Jacob."

he nodded then he and his pack changed into wolves before entering the castle to finish the job.

your friends were watching the scene, speechless.

chad started to stammer. "did they just turn into wolves ?"

you laughed and nodded. "it's best that you don't know about all the dangerous creatures that actually exist."

[tamelee]

I had stopped being able to read the naruto manga way back near the beginning of shippuden (it was still coming out at the time) due to the store I had access to not bothering to carry the volumes anymore (man am I old 🤣) then different fandoms caught me and years go by so my mind has the sasuke naruto meeting with sasuke draping himself over naruto to threaten him and sakura being competent with healing kankuro and fighting sasori... so I was...confused when I recently fell back into the fandom why sakura would even be with sasuke...as I felt mature medic nine fighter girl would have understood that she'd had a crush and moved on.

Like, Naruto and Sasuke had so much stuff between them I get why they haven't let each other go.

So it seemed weird as hell that sakura would even still "like" sasuke... as her original feelings stemmed from childish "he's so cute and broody" which is okay in a 12 year old girl but less okay as an adult woman...

The naruhina I though, ah, he and hinata must have had many moments in all the parts I've missed, and bonded...oh...she just...endangers herself and confesses to which naruto doesn't react at all...and then their married...

As a shonen manga I figured we wouldn't get a blatant narusasu ending (even though they are the best) ...I'm even a cheery multishipper often for characters I like but...it was so sad. I'd of been happier to have it end with shion just randomly turning up to have naruto keep his baby making promise...

Anywho sorry for blathering on.

I adore your art as well, it's super pretty and I need all the naruto x sasuke content to heal my shipper soul...

Hi @roseunspindle ! Oh gosh!! You couldn’t read past the reunion scene??? I would’ve gone crazy 😭

Yeah, Sakura never matured in that department. Even in the sequel where she’s supposedly married to Sasuke, Ino derisively says she’ll forever stay a girl in love. Like the story had to spell it out for readers. There is this weird vibe between her and Sarada when it comes to Sasuke.. I don’t even know how to describe it but it’s creepy. Even when there is a kid involved somehow and they speak of marriage, Sasuke gives her no reason to love him romantically and it surprises her still that he showed no concern for her life whatsoever. Sasuke, who expresses through action in most cases, is still as indifferent as ever towards her. 

Sakura has moments where she shows some care for characters, mainly driven by her being a medic, but emotionally, it is bizarre how little she cares about Sasuke and yet, at the same time seems to only care about him... if it involves herself. She doesn’t even question why Sasuke does what he does or tries to understand how he feels. Even when she gets fed little snippets of his pain or the source of that, she doesn’t try to find an answer. In the very end she doesn’t even give a shit about his reason to travel or defend his words regarding "redemption". She felt entitled to an apology while she was the one going up to him with the intention to kill him. Even when he tries to explain why he wants to travel, she just cuts off his words because she wants to go with him regardless of his intentions or goals. I get why some people wanted a development for Sakura where she’d be able to let that crush for him go, but story-wise? That would take a lot from Kishimoto because there is also a lot of insecurity involved too.. And frankly, she's very much a red herring :')

Meh, nh... I have nothing to say. 

Well, SNS-fans often say their story is very tragic. But that’s not just how we feel, it IS a fact that Naruto and Sasuke went from receiving a semi-sweet/bitter-sweet (depends on how you look at it as we got a resolve but not a clear resolution yet) in ch 698/699 to a bitter ending in 700 where they suddenly not only didn’t have what they wanted, but certainly not what they needed either. To combat that in the sequel, they shoved all the problems of the world onto a bunch of aliens... distracting everyone from the hypocrisy of the system. Neither Naruto or Sasuke got to work on the thing they wanted and their internal desires were completely massacred for the sake of these kids. And both of them have shown that if they don’t have what they need, they will fail the thing they ultimately want. Meaning, the Shinobi world will forever stay the same while spitting on their dream for the future and the trauma they had to go through because of it. It’s not even about SNS or the story being Shonen... but the concept, which Sasuke talked about at the end that was supposed to be a vehicle for a better world is completely retconned. 

... but I’m happy that besides that, SNS is still widely and largely celebrated regardless. And that says a lot! I’m happy to hear you like my art 🥰💕 that really means a lot, thankyou so much!! (I’m trying to heal myself through them too ;-;!) 

[twitterpated-passion]

A Healthy Kinda Love (Toxic Love pt. 2) | Monster Boyfriend

You couldn’t say being a vampire is easy, not that you would in the first place. The first few days were hell, constantly hearing the animals when you stepped outside at night. It took you a while before you were able to stay out there for five minutes and not be overwhelmed by the smell and the sounds.

Hex had been with you with every step, praising you for even going outside in the first place, making sure you were fed since a newblood’s hunger was far worse than a seasoned vampire. He’s gotten better with time as well, controlling his temper and making sure you were able to stay sane when you were able to hear the blood pumping every single time you called a client or a client called you back. Your fangs were sore and hard to control, but, like usual, helped with that.

He’s not the best still, and he has his moments, but aside from the uncomfort you were feeling thanks to him turning you, you were happy you gave him that chance. Happy you did something you shouldn’t, yet again.

⛧⛥⛧⛧⛥⛧⛧⛥⛧

“You’re going to trip,” Hex said as he passed you, turning around and running backwards as he shot you a look, earning one in return from you.

It was your first hunt, something Hex was almost killing himself with stress with. It took two hours of convincing and a helluva lot of kisses to get him to agree. But as fun as you were having with your newly gained speed, he got even more overprotective with how you were outside of the cottage.

“I’m not gonna trip,” you said, waving your hand in the air, narrowing your eyes at him before he shrugged and turned around. “Hex, I’m not-”

You were down before you knew it, your foot catching on a rock and then you were suddenly face first on the ground, the fallen leaves barely breaking your fall as you heard Hex sigh and walk over to you. You could tell he wanted to be cheeky, but he held himself back, helping you up and dusting off your sweater. “Watch your surroundings, alright? I don’t want you getting hurt, Crow.”

Crow. That was his new pet name for you ever since the two of you got together. He constantly told you that the two of you were an ‘attempted murder’ and that’s why he called you that. But you knew better. You saw the crows he befriended and that gave him little rocks and even something he gave you once. All for some pieces of stale bread. You were tempted to tell him, but you saw the way his eyes lit up when they visited him when the sun went down, you heard how he spoke when he called you that. And you really, really loved it.

“You could’ve warned me,” you said.

“Yea, I could’ve, but I could’ve also kept you at home and just brought home an animal for us. I didn’t do that, now did I?” He asked, kissing your forehead before nudging your hand and grabbing it, walking with you. “Y’know, I was never taught how to do these things when I turned…I had to learn on my own.”

“On your own?” You questioned, looking over at him with furrowed brows. He nodded.

“I was turned by a random who didn’t know when to stop…never saw them after that night and well…it’s not like I knew how to find people like me,” he explained. “I’m not letting you go through the same thing when I’m here to help. It’s not fair to you.”

“I wouldn’t exactly blame you if you did that though,” you told him, but he squeezed your hand right after you stopped talking.

“I would,” he said, slowing to press his lips firmly against the side of your head. “I’ll let you learn by yourself soon enough, but I don’t want to throw you in something when I can help you the first time and then gradually let you do it yourself.”

You knew better than to argue with him about it, especially since he was more knowledgeable with his experience as a vampire. You also didn’t want this night to end on an accidental tense note, genuinely enjoying spending time with him outside for the first time since you’ve gotten adjusted. “Whatever you say, Hex.”

A smile curled up on his lips and he squeezed your hand again. “Now you’re learning, Crow.”

Rolling your eyes, you pushed him slightly with your free hand.

The two of you walked for a little bit longer, that is, until you yanked Hex to a sharp stop, your pupils dilating as you glanced over at the left. “...You smell something?”

Nodding, he looked mildly impressed, but he also did mention how newbloods have sharper senses of smell and hearing so they can survive better. “...Rabbit,” you started, whispering, “also deer and-”

You cut yourself off. “And?”

“Bear, Hex.” You expected him to stop you, to try and calm the excitement, but all he did was grin and kiss your head again. “You wanna try getting all three?”

“You want me to try getting a bear?” You asked him, disbelief in your tone.

“Not alone, obviously, I’ll never expect that of you. But if you get the rabbit, and I get the deer, we can use the rabbit as bait and take the bear out together,” he suggested. “That or I could subdue it and you could snap it’s neck.”

“You’re putting a lot of faith into me, Hex,” you commented, giving him an unsure look that was countered with a scoff and a wave of his hand.

“I know you can do it.”

With that, he tugged you to where you said to go, letting you make a quick trip with the rabbit, which was further off than you expected. He chased after the deer and the both of you made your way to the small cave the bear made their home. “I can’t believe we’ve lived near bears.”

“We’re a few miles away from the house…besides, we’re in the forest, Crow,” he whispered back, tossing the rabbit into the entrance of the cave. When the smell of bear got worse, you had to cover your nose moving with Hex as a brown bear appeared, clearly tired and disgruntled, yet not denying the dead rabbit just laying in the entrance of his home.

Hex watched, eyes focused on the bear before he quietly lifted you and helped you get on the top of the cave, making sure you were steady before watching the bear again, waiting until it bent down to eat the rabbit before making a move.

He was fast, and before you knew it, you were watching your partner fight a bear, something you’ve never thought you’d see in your life. Both the fighting a bear and Hex being your partner. Though, you never thought you’d be a vampire that’d have to hunt animals either, and that really was the cause of it all.

You were almost worried for Hex until he pushed the bear against the side of the entrance to the cave with a grunt, looking up at you for a moment before yelling at you, “Hop down on its shoulders and grab its head!”

You listened, stumbling, but digging your fingers into the side of the bear’s head to stay steady on it, hearing Hex again, “Now kill it!”

You flinched when you heard him, almost hesitating on if you really wanted to do it. However, Hex must have bitten into the bear to get a one up on it, because when the scent caught your nose, your pupils dilated and your hands moved on your own. Hex caught you as the bear fell, its head following shortly as it rolled a little off to the side, leaving you with the body.

Your fingers dug into his arms, trying to get at the bear’s body, acting like a wild beast that hasn’t eaten in months as he held onto you, whispering praise as he tried to calm you down, littering kisses against your neck and up to your ear. “C’mon, Crow, breathe, breathe.”

You could barely hear him, but after a moment, your senses got used to the smell and slowly but surely, you calmed down enough to loosen your grip on his arms, a breath leaving your lips. “There we go…”

You looked back at him, then towards the bear’s body…then at its head. “I killed it…”

“Mhm,” he hummed. “You did great on your first hunt, ‘m proud of you.”

Your expression softened and a little smile appeared on your lips at the praise. “Can I carry the bear back home?”

He huffed a laugh and nodded, letting you go and watching you as you walked to the bear and tossed the six foot body over your shoulders like it was nothing. He grinned at the sight, moving over to the deer before coming back with it over his shoulder. “You’re abusing your powers.”

“You said newbloods are stronger than ‘seasoned vampires’.”

“They can exert more strength more easily. That’s what I said, not that they were stronger.” You rolled your eyes playfully before following him back to the cottage, letting him get the deer drained before moving onto the bear.

“You want me to get you some food as I get cleaned up?” You asked him, waiting for him to turn and look at you before nodding.

“That’d be easier, yea,” he said, flashing you a smaller smile before walking over to you to kiss your cheek. “If you want, I could skin them too. I just remember you saying something about wanting a big blanket for winter. It’s getting to be fall, Crow.”

“You’d sleep under a bear skin that I decapitated?”

“‘Course I would, it’s called using the animals.” Hex shrugged. “If you don’t like it, I could always sleep under you.”

He cocked an eyebrow and laughed when you swatted at his arm. “Hex!”

“You love me,” he said teasingly, only for you to steal a kiss from his lips.

“I do, but sometimes I want to hit you.” He playfully growled before turning you around, placing a firm swat on your ass to send you inside the cottage.

You walked in, heading to the kitchen to wash your hands and change into something comfier for the night before you got Hex and yourself two glasses of blood. Walking out, you use your foot to shut the door, walking over to him in the process of the makeshift drainer he made a while ago, something he had before you moved in because he didn’t have anyone to feed on. “How’s it goin’?”

He looked back at you, a smile on his face as his red eyes lit up at the sight of you. “Perfect, like always. Gimme a sec’ and I’ll grab my glass.”

“Take your time,” you told him, watching him as you sipped from yours, eyes fluttering shut as you calmed your almost uncontrollable bloodlust. He had said it’d calm down eventually, but right now you were stuck with it.

You leaned against the side of the cottage, watching him after getting over the savoring of the first sip, your eyes following the way blood pours into the container that was under the body. Eyes following his movements as he set it up to do it for him, you handed him his glass when he walked over to you, smiling when he smothers a kiss against your lips, humming when he tastes the blood that stains them.

He takes a long drink of his glass, pulling in a deep breath before letting it out as his eyes stare down at you, a darker red now that he’s had a taste. “Something on your mind, Crow?”

You shook your head. “Nothing important.”

Hex scoffed. “Anything that’s in your pretty, little head is important. C’mon, what is it?”

“You’re gonna keep bothering me until I tell you, aren’t you?” A single nod is all you get, but it’s enough to make you fold with a groan. “Fine, fine.”

You paused for a moment, and he waited, raising his eyebrows when you didn’t immediately spit it out. “If that incident didn’t happen…would you have turned me anyway?”

You didn’t need to explain what the incident was. You didn’t want to anyway. That wasn’t a good night for either of you. But you almost started to tell him not to worry about it when you saw him tense up, but he spoke before you could, taking a drink beforehand. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” He nodded again.

“I wanted to ask you out first…get closer…that sorta stuff. That night…I turned you because I needed to save you. I wasn’t thinking straight and I just…I couldn’t let you die, so I turned you. Any other time, I would’ve done it when you were willing. But I was desperate.” He shrugged after a moment. “You probably already knew that though.”

“I might’ve picked up on it,” you said softly, pulling a hand from his glass before your lips grazed his knuckles. “By the way…I think you’re very good for me now.”

His eyebrows raised again and a smile spread on his face. “Really? No more ‘you’re bad for me’? None of that?”

You shook your head. “None of that. Even then- I was still with you despite that.”

“True, but it’s one thing when you’re with me despite thinking I’m not good for you. It’s another when you finally do,” he told you, and as much as you hated to admit it, he was right. “Though, I still think you’re far too good for me.”

“Your way of thinking is wrong usually.” He narrowed his eyes at you and you scrunch your nose at him, giving him a little smile before drinking more from your glass. “I think I’m perfectly in your league.”

“You’re a bad liar, Crow. A godawful liar.” Shooting him a look, he simply looked away, finishing his glass before looking over at the bear, changing the conversation with ease. “We shouldn’t have to hunt for a while after this.”

“We shouldn’t?” He shook his head.

“Even if we feed once a day, it’ll still take us over a month to get done with all of our blood. We- no I only eat once a week and you’re surprisingly keeping up with it once every two days.”

“It’s not that hard…just uncomfortable,” you said with a shrug. “It should get better though, right?”

He nodded. “Mhm, after a while it won’t be as uncomfortable ‘cause your body’ll get used to not eating as much.”

You nodded back at him, but you also couldn’t deny that your brain decided to get stuck on one small thought you happened to come across. Fortunately and unfortunately for you, Hex noticed. “What is it now, Crow?”

This time, you just spit it out, partly ashamed of yourself for thinking it, “Are you ever gonna get tired of having me around and not want me anymore?”

You saw his expression soften before he looked back at you. “What makes you think that?”

“Nothing, it’s just…a thought, I guess.”

“Well, get the thought out of your head,” he started, moving into your personal space to lean down and kiss your head. “‘M not goin’ anywhere and I’m sure as hell not letting you go either. I’m always gonna want you around, no matter what. Even if we fight.”

“Really?”

“I’ll pinkie promise you if it makes you happy,” he said, lifting his free hand and holding out his pinkie, letting you link your pinkie with his. “I promise, on my cold, undead heart that I’ll love you for the rest of our lives, ok? No matter how bad a fight is or anything of the sort. I’m gonna be here, and I’m sure as hell never gonna get tired of you, Crow.”

You smiled up at him, sighing softly before he pecked you on the lips. “That’s why I keep saying I’m in your league. You’re perfect for me.”

“Even if I’m the reason you can’t go out in the sun without burning?”

“Even if you’re the reason I can’t eat my favorite foods anymore,” you said, not answering his question, but giving him another reason. “Trust me, you’re stuck with me, I’m still paying the mortgage on the cottage.”

“Makes one of us,” he jokes, laughing when you swat at his arm. “You’ll pay it off, and then you can live in the house for free.”

“Not if I want to pay the bills.”

“Well, without a mortgage,” he said with a shrug, handing you his empty glass. “Anyway, finish up your drink, ‘m gonna get this inside and you’re gonna help me jar all of this up.”

“Am I getting paid?”

“You’re getting food,” he retorted and you nodded.

“True, I’ll finish,” you said, kissing him again before walking back in the cottage and downing the rest of the blood, putting the glasses in the sink before going out to help him with the containers.

The two of you spend the rest of the night using the rest of your jars to get the blood to last more than a week and as he’s playing tetris, trying to fit the jars with the others in the fridge and in the freezer, you watch him with a dumb little smile on your face because that was your man.

And even if he yells at inanimate objects because they don’t fit exactly like he wants them to, you love him anyway. Even if in the beginning he wasn’t all that good for you.

⛧⛥⛧⛧⛥⛧⛧⛥⛧⛧⛥⛧⛧⛥⛧⛧⛥⛧⛧⛥⛧⛧⛥⛧⛧⛥⛧⛧⛥⛧⛧

Part One

[choki-the-rich-cactus]

Not a full fanfic, just some random scenes in my head that I just can’t get rid of.

“Even Japan’s treasure, Kira Ryousuke, is here?”

Nagi looked up from his phone’s screen. The word ‘treasure’ coming out of Reo’s mouth that didn’t refer to him left a bad taste in his mouth.

“Japan’s...treasure?” He followed Reo’s gaze to see a short, black hair boy in a school uniform. “That normal looking pipsqueak?”

“No, not the black hair guy behind him. The big, handsome guy..”

Nagi looked back down to his phone despite Reo attempt to move his head so they could witness this national treasure together. Irritation crept into his voice when he implied he didn’t care, but Reo was clearly too starstruck to notice.

Nagi knew he always encourage Reo to play soccer with someone else. Partly because Nagi thought that would cut him some slack, allowed him to go back to his sedentary lifestyles, but mostly because he thought Reo deserved to have someone as passionate about this whole thing as he was as a partner and not whatever Nagi was at this stage.

Soccer was...a pain. Nagi mainly forced himself through the whole thing because of how Reo was looking as him every time he scored a goal. Like he was a gift from heaven created specifically for Reo.

He somewhat enjoyed the sport on a certain level, but nowhere near Reo. And Nagi wasn’t the type to fake his enthusiasm just so someone would keep being his friend.

But he also couldn’t lie, with Reo, Nagi was actually very temped to just fake it till he make it.

Nagi didn’t have that many friends. Especially human ones.

So while he was quite sure Reo wouldn’t just dump him when he found a shiny new treasure, Nagi wasn’t 100% sure.

He said he wanted Reo to have freedom in choosing partners, soccer was Reo dream after all, but he said nothing about Reo having a new treasure.

Especially this...whatever the hell this guy was.

What was Reo even talking about?

Big? Was Nagi’s 190cm height and his developing muscles (thanks to Reo’s traing schedule) not enough to satisfied Reo? Nagi might not reach the peak of his physical form yet, but even he knew he was way more ripped than this so called ‘treasure’.

Handsome? Where?

His white hair? Nagi’s whiter, and waaaay fluffier! Reo just blow-dried his hair yesterday.

His big eyes? Nagi’s were bigger. Anyone could see that.

His smile? Okay, Nagi might not have anything to compete with that, but you don’t really need a smile to look hot, right?

Kira was lucky that Ego came on the stage at that moment. Because if Reo uttered a single more praise to Japan’s treasure. Nagi’s look might actually kill someone.

——

Nagi thought he kind of did something he shouldn’t.

Nagi wasn’t a religious guy, but after that encounter(?) with a guy who could take Nagi’s place if Reo wanted him to. He kinda prayed to anyone who would listen to get rid of that national treasure before Kira actually met Reo.

He wasn’t sure who answered his prayers, because Kira literally went *poof* on the first day.

“Reo...”

“Yes, my treasure?” The nickname made Nagi felt a little better.

“If I accidentally made a deal with a devil, would you help me?”

Luckily for him, Reo heard something like this from Nagi often enough to not even bat an eyelash.

“I’m a Mikage, Nagi.” Reo smiled as he fed Nagi with a piece of steak he cut into bite sized pieces. “Whoever it was you made a deal with, I probably have had lunch with him. Don’t worry. I’ll get that contract back for you in no time.”

Nagi relaxed into the boy next to him with relieved. He did not question Reo. He never did.

But as Nagi was drifting off to sleep. He still had a feeling this was the debt he would have to pay to that devil himself in future.

[missacidburn928s-heathenhideaway]

It's hard for me to say, I'm jealous of the way, you're happy without me... (Prologue)

Hunterverse AU

Sy, Walter, Curtis (Lumberjack & the 2 bears) x POC Reader "Havoc/TG"

Ex Dean x Reader

Platonic Sam x Reader

Numerous SPN Characters

Summary:

It’s been quite some time since you last laid eyes on the Winchesters. So naturally they just so happen to stumble into your bar looking for some help on a case. Dean notices that as much as some things have stayed the same regarding you, others have certainly changed. Like your relationship status with not one but three men.

Warnings:

Angst and Fluff and Smut, Jealousy, Hunterverse AU, Polyamory, Humor, Fluff and Humor, Inappropriate Humor, Angst and Romance, Fluff and Angst, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Additional Tags to Be Added

Divider @firefly-graphics Banner @cafekitsune Happy Reading!

Life on the road as a female hunter can be fun. Filled with nights of passion between two or more people just trying to escape their lives for just a little while; but it is also extremely lonely. And for a soul like yours, loneliness, though necessary with the life you’ve led, is painful. Being with someone, even for a couple hours, connecting on some level, be it physical, emotional or both, just making them feel great, is what keeps you grounded and sane. Balanced for just a little while. Short lived but always worth it. Well that was until you met the Winchesters.

You had been working a simple salt and burn in a tiny little town in the middle of Tennessee. A ghost seemed to be causing trouble at the last standing bar in town. Killing the owner and a waitress just two days prior to your arrival. You had already done the whole Fed thing earlier in the day, getting the case breakdown from the local PD and checking out the bodies in the morgue. You needed to talk to the locals and find out a bit of information before really diving deep into research. You decided to forgo the FBI attire and go in something a little more comfortable, that’ll get the locals talking. 

You rifled through your duffle bag and found your favorite pair of jeans. They’re dark gray, high waisted, with a torn left knee from getting caught on a low hanging branch while running through the woods on a Werewolf case a while back, and they hug your curves perfectly. Grabbing a simple white crop top that displays just the right amount of your assets, you complete the look with your favorite red and black flannel and dirty old brown combat boots. Taking a look in the bathroom mirror you decide to throw on a touch of mascara and a burgundy tinted lip balm for a pop of color. “Spectacles, knife, wallet and keys.” You repeat your mental checklist before you leave anywhere. “I think I’m good to go work my charm and maybe bring back someone to play with too.” You laugh at yourself for the overt cheesiness. 

It was while you were prying info out of the sexy little bartender Zoe that John Winchester happened upon you. He let you finish your questioning and then persuaded you over to his table where his two boys sat. A gangly teenager and a cocky pretty boy were there in wait. “These are my boys. Sam and Dean. It seems we’re hunting the same thing. Mind if we join up? A young lady such as yourself shouldn't be hunting alone.”

“It’ll certainly help if I don't have to dig up bones all by myself. Just don't slow me down.” You slyly agree.

That first meeting was a year before Sammy left for Stanford and you never went back to hunting alone. In fact, you became Dean’s outlet for the emotional turmoil brought on by trying to keep the peace within his family. 

You were his bright spot for a long time. Even through John's sacrificial death and his own trip through hell. But when Sammy got locked in the cage, well the Dean you knew and loved disappeared into himself. Determined to keep his promise to Sam, he went off to have an apple pie life with Lisa. Leaving you to lick your wounds and forge a new path for yourself, once again alone. It’s not like you were ever official or anything. You both had flings in different towns with different people. Slept with a woman or two together even. So really you couldn't blame him for how he was handling his grief.

That’s when you decided it was time to go home, heart wounded, but ready to be healed. Your father runs and owns a hunter bar called Total Party Kill, TPK for short. He decided to open it when you left at 18 to spread your wings and hunt on her own. He may be retired from the active part of the hunter's life but he still looks out for everyone and helps where he is needed. 

Who would have thought that while mending your broken heart and slinging beer to rowdy Hunters would be when you met Sy, Walter and Curtis. Three rough around the edges (total softies when it comes to you) men that you get to call your own. Over the years they have more than proved themselves to you, earning your love and devotion. Something about the four of you together just works. If you aren't hunting as a group, you go in pairs, minimum. They can’t stand to leave you alone. There is always someone with you. TPK is your home base and no matter how far you go, you always come back home. You choose hunts as a group and are always willing to help out a hunter in need.  

You share the duties around the bar that your dad has a hard time doing when you’re home. There are no favorites other than you being all of theirs. You’re a fully functioning Quad and at this point in your life you wouldn't have it any other way.

It seems as though Chuck has some plans for his favorite punching bag of a Winchester and they just so happen to involve you. What’s life without a little drama right?

[billyboyblue]

In Metamorphosis Sam flashing the puppy dog eyes on Dean and pulling the "I was alone 🥺" card when Dean confronts him about Ruby is wild to me. Like we didn't just see malevolence in those dewey ass eyes as he was sending that demon to hell. Like my guy, when Ruby asked you, "How did that feel?" And her expression is downright jubilant it's like c'mon this isn't about headaches you repressed dummy.

She did exactly as Dean warned you at the beginning of season 3 she's using him to control Sam and what gets my git is that Sammy knows, you know you do dude. You like the power and the independence and everything you did all the way up to and including killing Lilith shows that my guy. He really liked both getting stronger and getting stronger for Dean, this is just what happens when live a thousand Tuesdays see a thousand deaths and live a very real four months with a dead brother alone. That when the second time comes around and someone, anyone shows up, he holds onto them and whatever solutions they can give and doesn't let go. Regardless of things like morals or facts. Not every exorcism kills it's host if their body is healthy and you don't go in knife and guns blazing.

In that episode with the witnesses dean really absorbed what Meg Masters was telling him. And he needed to hear it because it was him that rationalized sending Meg to hell for the good of the girl but then killed Azazel's son the next episode. He even says to Sam in the aftermath of those two deaths, he's surprised he's not more shaken by him killing those two people. That the lengths he's willing to go to are wrong and too far. He's right on the verge of confessing and questioning the rationale behind that when he gets interrupted but it's a sentiment he carries for the rest of the show. It's something he revisits a few times in that cycle metaphor all three itching to jump into the pit for each other and never seeing when enough is enough. Dean more than John or Sam sees the human cost I think.

Idk.

Meanwhile Sammy, You were getting your rocks off in a dead girls body being ridden by a thing that's killed countless people and you convinced yourself that 'saving more people in five months than we do in a year.' makes up for that and hoo boy does it not. Drinking literal hell juice somehow got compartmentalized knowing that's what killed Mary. He saw baby him with his own eyes getting fed by Azazel and he still drinks. And HE NEVER TOLD DEAN ABOUT HOW THEIR MOM DIED FOR A WHOLE YEAR BEFORE HIS REAPING SAM COME THE FUCK ON DUDE.

This rewatch just got to the rough part and I'm debating whether I'll actually keep watching after s5 because I'm so not into the campiness. I just can't make myself get through s6 it's so hard and terrible 😭.

[e-m-p-error]

Hello, Goodbye, It Was Nice To Know You

Ostello's death fic. Put under a cut for length.

Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, MLM, M/M, AU - Canon Divergent, Intersex Valentino, Briefly Mentioned Smut, Murder, Death, Angels & Demons, Blood, Cheating Mention, Weapon, Blade, OC: Ostello, Overlord OC

---

“Hey, Baby!” Ostello's voice was as rich and filled with love as it always was as he closed the front door to their penthouse behind him. Just like he did every day, he strolled in the door precisely fifteen minutes after seven. Just like he did every day, he made a beeline for his wife, finding Valentino in one of his usual haunts in the house. Pulling him into the same giddy kiss he'd been given every day for the last eight years, Ostello twirled the taller Sinner as per usual.

“Mmm, good evening,” Valentino's worn-out reply was tight, clipped in a way that showed his agitation. He was tired. Tired of routine, tired of feeling stagnant, tired of Ostello and the monotony of their marriage.

If only he had found out about his husband's biggest, best-kept secret. It just might have saved his life.

“How was your day, Beautiful?” The badger asked as he dipped his lover in his arms for another kiss. It was with all of the barely-there restraint Valentino scraped off of the bottom of his skull that he didn't let his eyes roll out of his head.

“You know how it is,” The same shit on a different day. 

He was so... Tired.

“Can I make it any better?”

No.

“What did you have in mind, Hot Shot?”

“I think we could both use a little TLC.” Ostello's promise stood stories above the actual act he was initiating, and Valentino knew this routine well. Ostello would kiss him to his back on the bed and they would rock and grunt for a few minutes. It would be tender in a way that turned his stomach, gentle in ways he didn't want. Everything about it would make him pray for someone else to show up, for a different partner to liven up his life. He would wait for tomorrow with bated breath, for his devoted but lackluster husband to leave so he could invite someone to bed that knew what they were doing.

As expected, he spent the next half hour on his back, only managing an orgasm by sheer power of will. The badger worked himself up until he finally came deep inside his lover, whose hand on his own cock was the only thing helping him maintain his erection. A few more pumps and he was spent, but not so much sated. His libido was an ancient and terrible curse, and one man with one position had never and would never mean more than a drop in a bathtub of his unbridled lust.

Valentino got up when Ostello lay panting beside him, filled with his warm fuzzies and seemingly having no idea of his wife's utter and complete boredom. Valentino wrapped himself in his silky red robe trimmed in feathers, slid his feet into his fuzzy, three-inch heeled house slippers, and went to the bathroom. As he did every night, he took in the dissatisfied expression he fed himself in the mirror with disdain.

Sinners could only be killed by a holy weapon, but Ostello and his damned routine were worse than a second death.

Truthfully, Valentino didn't hate the man. He was afforded a glamorous existence, he was married to a successful musician, and he had countless love songs written for him that had topped charts one on top of the other. Valentino couldn't have been more famous in Hell if he'd tried!

But he didn't want to live in the shadow of a man that couldn't satisfy him. If he had to eke out a meager existence, then he would do so on his own terms. Living in infamy would be better than slaving himself to this monotony.

As he plucked his false eyelashes from his eyelids, he knew what he was going to do. There was no questioning it, no talking himself down from it, now. Tonight was the night.

Tonight, it was finally time to reap what he'd sown eight years ago by marrying this idiot. It had never been about love for Valentino. His marriage to Ostello had been one of convenience, one that served a grander purpose in his escalation to the top. It was little more than a hesitant step in the right direction. When it came right down to it, he didn't know why he'd put up with this for so damn long. All he could think about these days was what lay ahead of him when Ostello was dead and buried.

The same couldn't be said for Ostello. He had become instantly infatuated with Valentino upon meeting him. Like a man possessed, he sought the moth's attention, his happiness, and finally his hand in marriage. Valentino's acceptance had been the highlight of his entire existence, both alive and dead.

There would never be anything else that would top that moment for him. Nothing except waking up every morning to see his beautiful wife lying in bed with him, lips slightly parted in his sleep. Seeing him light up for his many, many expensive gifts, or watching the light in his eyes when he was given another public serenading.

Most of the Pride ring, Valentino thought, must be as tired of it as he was. Ostello was a man filled with passion, but his passions vented in ways Valentino didn't see himself entertaining for the rest of his afterlife. He couldn't do it anymore. There was nothing left for Ostello.

Tonight was the night.

Tonight, he'd be free.

His whole world would begin to come together in one fell swoop of the holy spearhead he'd smuggled out of his husband's weapons dealing hoard. Usually, Ostello kept the angelic weaponry under lock and key, but if anyone could gain access to these things, it was Valentino. He could do no wrong in the eyes of his thoroughly bewitched husband, and he would continue to do no wrong until he had ascended the stairway to Godhood.

Ostello was always a sleepy thing once they were finished. He had a habit of taking a short nap after he came, which usually gave Valentino time to shower. While the thought of doing it while the badger slept peacefully in their marital bed was one that glanced off of his brain, he decided against it quickly. He wanted to see the betrayed look, the sheer terror in Ostello's eyes as the one he loved plunged a blade deep into his chest. All he wanted, now, was a good chance to catch the badger off-guard.

It wouldn't be hard when he woke up, lazy and slow in the evening light from the pentagram shining through the window. He wouldn't be surprised to find Ostello admiring it from where he lay. The man could wax poetic about anything at all at the drop of a hat, and Valentino didn't doubt that he'd find something to say about it that he'd said a million times before. Ostello was a creature of habit.

Aside from his vices, Valentino hated settling into a habit. He wanted excitement, panache, passion, and a desperate yearning for new things, experiences, people, and places. This marriage had been doomed from the start, and every boring, bedroom lovemaking session was another nail in the badger's coffin.

Valentino left the bathroom after he had cleaned himself up, strutting in his robe and heels to where he'd stashed his weapon. He'd been planning this for some weeks now, and the time had finally come. Tonight was the culmination of his boredom with his routine, and tomorrow would come the spoils of his war with monotony.

When Ostello woke, dazed and still reeling from the sensation of getting to be with his wife, Valentino lay out on the bed beside him. The lingerie he wore was white and insanely detailed with embroidery and stitching that made him look like royalty. There was a tuille half-skirt around his hips, and down his thighs stretched a pair of black fishnets. 

“You look beautiful, Pidge.” The badger purred, his smile tender and his gaze soft, “Any special occasion?”

“Yeah, actually.” Valentino nodded, slowly sliding up onto Ostello's hips and leaning down to kiss him. His upper left hand slipped beneath the pillow and he grabbed the weapon, wrapping his fingers tightly around what he would call the hilt. The staff was missing, leaving behind only the metal that held it together, but that was fine. He could handle holding it as long as he didn't cut himself.

“What's the—” Ostello didn't get to finish his sentence. Another kiss distracted him, and then he was met with the intense burn of something plunged between his ribs on the right side. It jerked in deeper and he gagged on dark, bubbling blood that pooled in his mouth. It dripped down the side of his face, and he gazed up at Valentino with shock and horror in his eyes.

“...didn't h-hafta... End li'this.” He barely managed to cough out the words before a blinding white light filled the room. Valentino hadn't been prepared, squeezing his eyes shut against its influence, hoping not to be too entranced. Bright lights always called to him in ways he couldn't explain, being a moth.

After a moment, he felt Ostello's muscled body drop away from him, and he sat in a pile of ash that had been his now ex-husband just seconds prior. 

So, this was what freedom tasted like. He breathed deep, the heavy scent of burned flesh and fur still in the air. Acrid and disgusting as it was, it marked a new chapter in his life.

With Ostello dead and gone, Valentino was finally free to do as he pleased, to do whoever he pleased. This newfound lease on his afterlife was going to be just the thing that he needed to lift himself not only out of the dumps but into high society. The death of an Overlord heralded a new one rising in his place. All would come to fear and respect his name in due time. 

After all, there wasn't a more important Sinner in Hell than Valentino. Nobody else compared to his stunning beauty, his deceitful ways, his wicked mind, and his starvation for more. Always, always more. Too much would never be enough. His hunger for everything would never be quenched, like his sexual appetite. In all things, he was a greedy, cruel thing who thought little of the lives, wants, and needs of others.

Now, all he had to do was continue his plan. Arkadious would be his next victim, he'd already decided. After him, Mournique would fall, and then Gerouda, before he hit his magnum opus. Vox, and then Alastor, would fall to his hand just as the rest would, and his hostile takeover of Pentagram City would be complete until he required the next big thing to keep himself entertained. 

For now, though, he would rest. Moving on autopilot as he contemplated his new existence, he changed the sheets on the bed himself for once. Humming one of Ostello's songs written just for him, he smoothed out the fresh silken sheets and smiled. Free. He was finally, unequivocally, and happily free. Never again would he fall victim to something so dangerously boring as a routine. He was wild, he was spontaneous, and he was, above all else, free.

[luveline]

brainwashed [Fred Weasley x reader]

tags: fluff, confessions, first kiss, reader-insert

word count: 1.5k

summary: Fred thinks you like George. Technically, you told him so. Though, technically, it’s a lie.

Brainwashed. You must have been brainwashed because you were in love with Fred Weasley.

You must be crazy, or delusional, or imperiused, or perhaps poisoned. He had beguiled himself to you.

You were as opposed to your infatuation as you were opposed to many things - like murder. And torture.

And infatuated you were. Your eyes sought him out everywhere you went. He was lovely, truly, with gorgeous brown eyes and a charming face, a quirky and honest smile. On top of all this, you loved how free he looked. Incredibly free, as though nothing could ever hold him back.

You loved him. He was going to kill you.

You picked at the roast dinner on your plate. Your appetite had dissipated the moment you'd realised you were in love with him and it had yet to return. It'd been 3 weeks.

You sighed mournfully, holding your face in your hand.

"Are you finished? We're going back to the common room," one of your friends asked.

"No, I should probably finish this, you guys go ahead."

Your friends smiled and bid you goodbye. Goodness, you wished you could stomach something, anything at all, but the only thing you'd managed in days was crackers and you'd already eaten the ones your dad had sent via owl.

Oh, how you craved a sleeve of saltines.

You poked again at the roast potatoes and gravy on your plate and frowned. Maybe you'd be better off skipping it for today anyway. Surely throwing up used more energy than what would've been gained.

You looked intensely at the grain of the table. You willed yourself to shake it off, move on with your life.

But you were in love.

Your eyes flitted to him again. He was sitting a few feet away with his brother and your friend, Lee Jordan.

You'd known Lee through your shared passion for gobstones, you'd even paired together for team matches in second and third year. Since then you'd remained friendly, often playing together when no one else was willing. A dangerous game, gobstones.

To your great misfortune, George had noticed your staring. You looked away quickly, the tops of your ears warming red. This was hardly the first time you'd been caught staring at Fred this year. Hell, this week.

You stabbed the tines of your fork into an ugly looking sprout, tempted to eat it just to look as though you couldn't possibly have been spying.

"You don't have to look so sickened, it's only a sprout," he said.

You gazed up at him pleadingly.

Fred gifted you an easy smile, sliding into the seat opposite you. His robes were ragtag and scruffy, his shirt untucked. The only thing straight was his tie, though it seemed a few good shakes from falling off.

You floundered for something to say.

"Not hungry?" he asked kindly. You looked down at your plate.

"Oh - no, not really. I'm actually feeling a bit sick."

"Yes, I'd say so. You're as green as the sprouts."

You laughed. His smile curved wider.

"So, Y/N, Lee has a theory. I've come to see if he's right, and win a few galleons, of course."

"Right," you said nervously.

Fred knocked his hand on the table. His lovely, lovely hand.

"Right," he agreed, "So, the theory. Well, please don't feel disrespected by this, it's purely theoretical, though if you do, that's alright too. I'm sure Georgie will be very flattered, as you're a stunning piece of work, though he's very happily embedded into the sides of Angelina Johnson."

"Okay," you cut him off, confused. "So, the theory?"

"Well, you fancy George, don't you?"

It took you a few seconds to catch up. "Fancy - I fancy George?" you asked, or you thought you asked. It came out flat and strangled.

Fred clicked his fingers and clambered to his feet. "Damn. I owe Lee a few quid after that one! Funny thing, I thought you fancied me. Well, see you around doll."

You were up and out of the hall before you could witness what you'd created.

-

You spent that night crying. It was more of a stress cry than a sad cry, no gasping sobs or heavy breathing, though you felt a bit light-headed when it was over.

The tears started in the shower and never quite stopped. At breakfast, you were careful to bite your lip and look up at the lights whenever you felt it coming on again.

Your eyes were puffy all through classes. Your friends shot you sneaky glances through the day. One of the guys from Hufflepuff in your charms class asked you how you were and offered you a biscuit.

It was a disaster.

You kept waiting for George to come up to you. It could go one of four ways.

1. George approaches you. Tells you that's he's flattered but definitely dating someone.

2. George approaches you. Tells you he finds your attention uncomfortable, and that he hopes you can control yourself.

3. George approaches you. Tells you he loves you too. Angelina murders you in the Gryffindor common room.

4. George approaches you. You cut him off and tell him the truth. He tells his brother. You never leave your room again.

You sighed.

Well, maybe you'd lived a nice life.

You were dismissed from lessons earlier than usual. You gathered your things in a rush and practically flew through the door, trying to turn as many corners as you could before the inevitable panic began.

"Y/L/N!"

Shit. You blanched, spinning on your hell.

"Heeeeeeyyy, George, how are you?

"I'm good. Yourself?"

"Oh, I'm fab, thanks."

"Right... so listen. I just wanted to say, I'm flattered that you fancy me, but I'm deeply in love with my girlfriend, and-"

"It's Fred. I fancy Fred."

George squinted at her, mouth still open mid-word. "But, you told Fred you liked me."

You wrung your hands together. "Yes, well. I was nervous, and I wasn't really expecting him to ask me, and-"

George laughed suddenly and loudly, startling you.

"This is brilliant. Ha! Oh my Godric." He reached forward and patted you on the shoulder. "You could've picked worse. He's very handsome; I'm sure you'll have lovely babies." He wiped a finger under his eye as though catching a falling tear.

Then he turned and began to sprint.

"I- George!" you yelped.

"Sorry!!" he shouted over his shoulder, "Twin code of honesty!"

"Twin code of being a tattletale," you said to yourself. "Twin code of ruining my life. Twin code of being absolute wankers.”

-

You were reading in a secluded section of the library when he finally found you.

"Weasley, I know you aren't of the habit, but please leave me to die shamefully of embarrassment unaccompanied."

Fred sat on the table next to your book, looking down at you.

"You told me you liked George."

"Technically, I didn't."

"You said, 'I like George', what is technical about that?"

You floundered. Closed the book and marked your page and tried not to look at him.

You failed. "Okay," you admitted, "I did say that. But I meant it more like... 'I like George?'. With a question mark. You know."

He didn't reply, though his gaze was intense.

"Like, 'I like George?'" You exaggerated your questioning tone this time.

He still didn't answer, lips pressed together tightly.

"Like-"

"If you tell me you fancy my brother one more time, I'm going to kiss you."

"You are?"

"Y/N."

"I like-"

Fred cut you off, covering your mouth with his hand. You looked up at him dolefully.

"It's almost like you want me to."

"I don't?" you asked against his hand.

"Well, can I?"

"Can you?

"You're impossible."

"Yes, you can kiss me."

He grinned, your face in his hand.

He leaned down. The air was warm between you and warmer when your lips met. He tasted like caramel.

You fed into it, pushing your hands up onto his neck and in his hair. He responded in turn, deepening the kiss with a familiarity you tried not to think of.

You wanted to be so close in that moment you pushed yourself up. The chair you sat on tumbled backwards, startling you both.

Fred only laughed, wiping the wetness from your lips.

He would kill you. You just knew it.

<3<3<3

tag list: @msmimimerton (lmk if u want to be added/removed :3)

[americancowgirl19]

To the End of Days

Summary: Caius reassures you how important you are to him

Warnings: Fluff, angst

Reader: Gender Neutral Read but it leans more feminine 

Pairings: Caius Volturi x Human Reader

Word Count: 1,132

A/n:  This was a request by an anon: Hey love! I was reading your works, and I’m in love!! I was wondering if you could write a fic about caius from twilight, where the girl is his mate, and he killed someone in a gruesome way and he didn’t know she was around. and she was scared of him doing that to her? I’m glad you’re enjoying my work! Hopefully you’ll like this one!

Masterlist

How did your life get to this? A couple of months ago you were visiting Italy before fall semester of college. Now you’re living in a castle full of vampires. They wouldn’t let you leave but a part of you, a part that grows bigger as time passes, didn’t want to leave.

You had miraculously survived the tour massacre but only because a blond vampire had protected you. Caius had protected you. He took you to a private room and explained what was going on. He wasn’t the kindest but as you spent more time with him you noticed he was softening up around you.

No longer was he sneering at everything you did or tensing when you accidently touched. His words weren’t as harsh as they used to be and he’s becoming more patient with you. You two had a long way to go but it pleased you that he was beginning to try. 

The last couple of weeks had been... nice. No one tried to kill you. Caius and you hadn’t fought over anything. You even made a friend out of the vampires Corin and Chelsea. They explained the things you were too scared or uncomfortable to ask Caius.

Of course, being one of the only humans amongst vampires made things interesting. You had good times but there was also plenty of tense and nerve-racking moments.

You felt silly, the last few weeks had been good enough to where you believed things were finally becoming normal again. It didn’t occur to you, during this time, that you lived with vicious human eating creatures. Not only were they vicious against humans but amongst themselves and other vampires as well.

You were rudely reminded when you were walking down the hall with Corin and a vampire came out of the throne room a few feet in front of you. The Volturi had brought in a coven. They were destroying them when one escaped.

It’s pure black eyes looked at you. Corin moved in front of you as the vampire shifted. Before he could attack you two a tall, blond vampire appeared. Caius had followed the vampire out. He mercilessly tore him apart. It’s the most brutal act of violence you witnessed since surviving the tour feeding.

Seeing that Caius had the vampire handled, Corin scoops you up and runs. She only stops once your in the room you share with Caius. She gently sets you down and ushers you inside.

You walk inside and close the door behind you. You knew she would stand guard outside. You paced in the room, your fingers threading through your hair a hundred times.

Your mind is racing. All you can think about is how ruthless these vampires are. You think about the tour feeding. Innocent people who just wanted to get out of the house slaughtered all around you. You remember the stench, the screams, the fear. You remember the look in the vampires eyes as they fed and how they tried to get to you. They were inhuman.

You slowly sit down at the table trying to calm down. You wanted to trust that Caius wouldn’t hurt you. Hell, he’s the one that’s always protecting you. But still you couldn’t help but wonder.

Corin had once explained to you about the laws of the vampire world. Humans weren’t supposed to know about their kind, let alone live in their castle. You were human. How much longer would you be alive? Would you fall asleep and just never wake up? Would Caius get tired of your and drain you dry? Had he saved you just to save your fresh blood for a rainy day? Or would another vampire try to kill you and either Caius wouldn’t save you or he wouldn’t be there?

When the door opens you’re head snaps over. Caius enters and takes his cloak off. You’re eyes follow him. You try to force yourself to relax but all you can think about is Caius destroying the vampire right in front of you.

“You’re heart is running faster than a jackrabbit, my dear” Caius comments finally turning toward you. Your body tenses even more. You try to gauge his temperament but the only time Caius ever shows emotion is when he’s angry. Anger and arrogance are the only emotion Caius allows to show through. “Are you alright?” He asks, slowly approaching you as if you were a skittish animal.

“I’m fine,” Your voice squeaks. He raises his eyebrows obviously not believing you.

“Wanna try that again?” He suggests, sitting in the seat beside you. “You’re afraid,” He notes. “What’s wrong?” Your eyes downcast to your fidgeting fingers. He grips your chin and forces you to look back at him. “Tell me,” He demands.

“Are you going to kill me?” You ask, your voice lower than you expected.

“Kill you?” Caius searches your eyes as he wonders why you’re thinking about this. “Eventually, when you’re ready, you’ll be turned into a vampire,” Caius tells you. “But that will not be for a least another year, perhaps more if you truly wish,”

“You’re going to turn me,” You state, though it sounds like a question.

“Yes,” Caius nods. “And I will help you adjust when the time comes. Until then, you will live here as a human. I won’t allow any harm to come to you,”

“You’ll protect me...” Caius nods. “... Even from yourself?” You whisper.

“Are you afraid... of me?” Caius asks, shifting in his seat. You look away again. Caius doesn’t force you to look at him but he grabs your hands. You cling to his small act of comfort but you crave more. You grip his hands and as if he can read your mind, he pulls you from your chair and onto his lap.

Naturally, you curl into his chest. His cool arms wrap around you and his chin rests on your head. He’s never been this affectionate before and you’re soaking it up while you can.

“You, my sweet darling, are the only person alive that has nothing to fear from me. I will never harm you. I will protect you to the end of days.” He vows. Slowly, your body loses the tension and your heart slows. “You’re going to be fine, amore, I’ll protect you and be by your side forever,” You smile, snuggling deeper into his embrace.

Caius cracks a smile, holding you closer. His eyes close as he enjoys the feeling of you in his arms. He never wants to let you go and is relieved that you’re not fighting to leave his grip. He risks a kiss on to top of your head and is pleased when he notices the corner of your lip lifting.

“You’re mine,” He whispers, kissing your head once more.