#this story is pure crack and i am Not Sorry

[kpforpresident]

Good Vibrations // Part Two

Part One

Lexa blinks so rapidly that she feels like she could take flight. The Gamer Boy and his girlfriend have inched closer, clearly trying to eavesdrop on the incredibly bizarre conversation that is taking place in the store entryway as the pair pointedly examines a red bejeweled buttplug so large that Lexa would wager a guess it would rival the diameter of her fist. 

Thankfully, as the store closes at 9:30 and Lexa can see the last tails of sunset disappearing behind the horizon, she doesn’t have to customer service her way out of crazy for much longer. She can see the headlines now- aspiring bright young journalist slaughtered with sex toy by deranged blonde customer. 

“I- you- orgasm?” Lexa splutters, inching backward behind the safety of the employee counter, so that two feet of speckled plastic separates them. “Miss-Ma’am-”

“Clarke,” The blonde helpfully supplies, once again waving the vibrator around in the air as if to punctuate her point. 

Lexa manages to give her a disbelieving once over as the girl, noting Lexa’s discomfort with the flying handheld sex toy, gently sets it on the glass counter.  Oblivious both to the gaping stare of Gamer Boy and Lexa, Clarke strokes a loving finger over the silicone curve of its frame before clasping her hands on the counter and staring expectantly at Lexa once again, bright eyes boring a hole into Lexa’s gaze

. Clad in frayed denim shorts and a threadbare cream-colored Matisse t-shirt, Lexa notes the small splotches of paint that dapple the girl’s tanned arms, the bright blue suede Birkenstock clogs that complete the outfit. She looks entirely normal, not like someone Lexa would peg as a girl to run like a bat out of hell into a sex toy shop brandishing a clit focused vibrator like it is her own personal brand of vigilante justice.  “Well Clarke, I, you…wait, how do you know my name? How do you know my last name?” Lexa says as she levels an accusatory finger at Clarke, electing to ignore how breathtakingly gorgeous she’s slowly realizing her would be attacker is.

[its-avalon-08]

why did you leave me (cl16)

part8!

multipart story! prev || next

✦ pairing - charles leclerc x female reader

summary : charles and y/n have always been best friends. but y/n has been in love with him forever. when charles starts dating a new girl, out of respect y/n distances herself. but how much is too much?

Y/N, feeling slightly steadier after her talk with Lando, decided to head back to the paddock. Her heart still felt heavy, but the weight of her secret was a bit lighter now. As she walked, she spotted Charles standing alone, leaning against a wall. He looked up, and their eyes met. His eyes were just as red and puffy as hers, filled with a mixture of pain and longing.

For a moment, they both stood frozen, staring at each other. Then, as if drawn by an invisible force, they both moved at the same time, running towards each other. When they collided, it was as if all the barriers between them shattered. Y/N leaped into Charles' arms, wrapping her legs around his waist, holding on as if her life depended on it. Charles buried his head into her hair, breathing in her familiar scent, his arms wrapped tightly around her, never wanting to let go.

Months of distance, misunderstandings, and unspoken words melted away in that embrace. It felt like coming home after being lost for too long. Both of them held on, neither wanting to be the first to break the hug, savoring the closeness they had missed so desperately.

Charles pulled Y/N even closer, feeling the warmth of her body against his. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, and her legs stayed securely around his waist. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in that moment. He could feel the rapid beating of her heart against his chest, mirroring his own.

Her scent, a mix of vanilla and something uniquely her, filled his senses, grounding him in a way nothing else ever had. He buried his face in her hair, the soft strands brushing against his cheek. It had been months since they had embraced like this, and the longing they had both felt was finally being sated.

Y/N clung to him, her fingers gripping his shoulders as if afraid he might disappear. She could feel the strength and reassurance in his embrace, the way his hands gently but firmly held her. The hug was more than just physical; it was an unspoken promise, a silent confession of all the words they hadn’t said.

For Charles, holding Y/N like this was a revelation. The way she fit perfectly in his arms, the comfort and peace he found in her presence—it all made sense now. This was where he belonged, with her. As he tightened his embrace, he whispered softly, “I never want to let you go again.”

Y/N’s tears mingled with his, their faces so close they could feel each other’s breath. She nestled her head into the crook of his neck, feeling his heartbeat steady and strong. It was as if the months of pain and separation melted away in the warmth of their hug, leaving only the pure, unfiltered love they had for each other.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Charles whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. “I didn’t realize how much until now.”

Tears streamed down Y/N’s face as she clung to him. “I missed you too, Charles. More than you know.”

Charles pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers. “Y/N, we need to talk about something. I need to tell you something, and I need you to understand how much you mean to me.”

Fear flickered in Y/N’s eyes. “Charles, I—”

“No, let me finish,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “I heard everything you said to Lando. I'm sorry, I really am. I didn't mean to eavesdrop but its like I couldn't move away. I know why you pulled away, why you’ve been hurting. And it breaks my heart that I didn’t see it before. That I missed the fact that you felt this way.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. “You heard all of that?”

Charles nodded, his eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and hope. “Every word. And it made me realize something, too. I’ve been blind to what’s right in front of me. You’ve always been there for me, Y/N. You’ve always been the one I turn to, the one who understands me better than anyone else. Every time I walked into a party, I would search for you. I wanted your hugs, your advice, your tears all of it.”

Y/N’s heart raced, fear and hope warring within her. “Charles, please don’t say this just because you feel guilty. I can’t handle that.”

Charles shook his head, his grip on her tightening. “It’s not guilt cherie. It’s clarity. You’ve always been more than just a friend to me. I just didn’t realize it until now. I need you in my life, not just as my best friend, but as something more.”

Charles pulled back slightly, just enough to look into Y/N’s eyes, his own brimming with emotion. "You know, Y/N, looking back, I realize now that it was always you. I just never recognized it for what it was. All those times I went out of my way for you, it wasn’t just because we were friends."

Y/N tilted her head, her eyes searching his. "What do you mean?"

Charles took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "Remember when we were in high school, and I used to drive halfway across town just to bring you your favorite coffee before class? Or the time I spent an entire weekend building that bookshelf for your room because you mentioned you needed one? I even learned to cook your favorite meal just to surprise you on your birthday."

He paused, his voice softening with the weight of his realization. "Those weren’t just friendly gestures, Y/N. Those were the actions of someone who was in love, even if I didn’t realize it at the time. I wanted to see you happy, to see you smile because of something I did. I wanted to be the one you could always count on, the one who was always there for you. And every time I saw you with someone else, it hurt because I wanted to be the one who made you laugh, who made you feel special."

Y/N’s eyes widened, tears glistening as she listened. "Charles, I had no idea…"

Charles nodded, his own eyes filling with tears. "Neither did I, not really. But now, looking back, it all makes sense. I’ve loved you for so long, Y/N. I just didn’t understand my own feelings. But now I do. And I don’t want to waste any more time. I want to be with you, to make you happy, to love you the way you deserve to be loved."

Y/N was speechless. It was like a dream, the right guy, the right words coming out of his mouth, all of it.

Charles took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before speaking again. "You know, Y/N, I never really understood why I felt so jealous whenever I saw you with other guys. It was like this fire inside me every time someone else made you laugh or smile. I hated it. I wanted to be the one to make you happy, to see those smiles and hear those laughs. I wanted all of them for myself, but I didn't know why until now."

Y/N looked at him, her eyes wide with surprise and hope. "Charles, you never showed it. You always seemed so okay with me being around other guys."

Charles shook his head, a sad smile on his lips. "I guess I was good at hiding it. But every time I saw you with someone else, it felt like a piece of my heart was being ripped out. I didn't understand it then, but now I do. I was jealous because deep down, I wanted to be the one who had your heart. I wanted to be the one you looked at with those beautiful eyes of yours. And now that I know you feel the same way, I don’t want to waste another moment."

Tears filled Y/N’s eyes again, but this time they were tears of hope. “Charles, are you saying…”

“Yes,” he interrupted, his voice full of conviction. “I’m saying that I love you, Y/N. I’ve loved you for longer than I can remember. I just didn’t recognize it for what it was. But I do now, and I don’t want to lose you. Not again.”

Y/N’s heart soared, the words she had longed to hear finally spoken. She cupped his face in her hands, her eyes searching his. “I love you too, Charles. I always have. I just didn’t think you could ever feel the same.” She leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. "I’m here, Charles. I’m yours. And I’ve wanted to be for so long."

Charles smiled, his heart feeling lighter than it had in months. “Well, now you know. And I promise, I’m not letting you go. Not ever again. And I’m yours, Y/N. You have all of me. Forever."

Charles leaned in, his forehead resting against hers.

They stayed like that for a moment, wrapped up in each other, the weight of their confessions lifting the heavy clouds that had hung over them for so long. Finally, they had found their way back to each other, and nothing would ever keep them apart again.

[queenie-the-court-jester]

hi I'm queenie! TEMPORARY HIATUS!!

★once I've got my stories going, don't be afraid to ask about them!

★but please be respectful! This is what I won't write for:

★ •trans or male reader! I don't mind doing them, it's just I don't know how to write for them and since I'm not either, I don't want to accidentally miswrite them and upset somebody. But you can still ask, I'll probably take a good long while though 💧

★ • classic Wattpad y/n. I like to keep my darlings as relatable as possible. I'm tired of seeing submissive bland (names). Time for 'go fuck yourself' y/n

★scat. Pedophilia. Minor x adult. WATERWORKS ❌. Incest. Stepcest. Age regression. Furries. Oc x oc unless I really really like it.

★minors please do not interact

★what I will write for: pretty much everything, I'm not picky! Pitch in your own ideas, I'd love to hear them! {Warning this'll include yanderes: I don't condone them but they do have Me a little interested}

★I'm mainly a fem! reader writer so, my male readers, I am so sorry 🥲 I'll try and make some gn fics just for you

★that's it really, I don't mind. Just be respectful to me and the other people who would like to enjoy my nonsense!

I'M A TRADITIONAL BEGGINER ARTIST SO PLEASE BARE WITH ME!

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

Current works:

Riley Sanderson x reader 🖤, doing his makeup

Yandere farm x farmhand reader 🌾, returning their feelings (cow couple, quintuplets)

It's raining cats and dogs 🐱🐶🌾

Country roads take me home 🐮🐴🌾, big daddy smut , taking a nap

Where the birds and fish gather 🦚🐟

Pure as a lamb 🐏🐐, Kim the goat

Yandere popular girl x reader x emo boy, sick darling, date at the mall!, crack imagine

oc kink list: part 1, part 2

Mild yandere circus x reader: part 1 Wendy!

Yandere bunny hybrid x reader, extra details + doodle, cotton x meat eater!darling

Yandere playboy x reader, reader escapes

Yandere florist x reader

yandere cupid x reader, househusband!

Yandere online boyfriend x afab!reader, sadistic reader

Yandere church boy x reader

yandere rockstar x FEM!reader

Oc's ethnicities

Yandere cheerleader x fem!reader, random headcanons

Yandere friend group x FEM!reader, reader dates kiross, what do they want?

Yandere fantasy party x gn reader

Blackwood academy masterlist

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

Headers by: @pixiesite @cafekitsune

The anons: 💕 - 👍 - 🍧 - 🐁 - 🍄 - 👾 - <3 - 🎀 - 😶‍🌫️ - 🦖 - 🇦🇶 - ☔ - blorbo - 🐢 - 🦌 - 🐮 - silver anon - 🎸- 🎶 - 🏮- ✂️ - 🩰 - 🥭🧚🏿‍♀️ - ❓- 🌹- 🐼 anon <-evil (jk)

Note to self:

@a-goblin-named-cherry wishes to be tagged on all farmhand reader content

[martygraciesversion381]

WONDERLAND

charles leclerc x reader

Warnings!: angst, mention of cheating and that's all

a/n: this is the first part of a three part story that i wrote hope you'll like this as much as i did writing it <3 inspired by taylor's song wonderland (includes some lyrics)

masterlist

You and Charles started dating 6 months ago when his dog Leo, attacked your cat lily since you both lived in the same building. He invited you to his house to apologise and you soon became friends but friendship soon turned into something else. You and Charles saw each other everyday and soon dates were a normal thing for the both of you. You still remember your first kiss. It was at Charles house during a movie night, you both were sitting on his couch and he suddenly kissed you. 

You started dating a few weeks after and even moved in with him even if he was never home because of races. Your life was perfect until today. Charles came back home one day extremely angry. You got up from the couch, a concerned expression on your face as you approached him. "You good Charlie?" He didn’t even answer. He stormed past you making you stumble against the wall and headed to his gaming room. He started streaming with his friends and you heard that his voice was filled with pure joy and happiness.

You started making dinner thinking that maybe you were the problem and that Charles was mad only because you were here. Charles finished streaming and his smile disappeared when he entered the kitchen. "I made pasta for dinner Charlie." You smile at him. He answers with a simple hum and sits at the table.

You both are eating and you reach out on the table to take his hand in yours but he withdraws his hand when you try to touch it. You furrow your brows and look at him with a confused expression. "Have I done something wrong Charlie?" You ask. "Don’t call me Charlie not after what you’ve done to me." Your confusion only grows with Charles’ words. "Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. I know you cheated on me."

You felt the world crumble around you. Did Charles just said that? "Sorry what? I never cheated on you Charlie I love you I really do you know that right?" He doesn’t answer. "Right?" Your face falls as he still doesn’t answer. A hot tear spills down your cheek but Charles doesn’t reach up to while it. "We need to break up Y/N. I told you that you didn’t have to rush things but you did it. We took a wrong turn and fell down a hole." 

"You’re the one who rushed your eyes at me. It’s not my fault people started to whispering about us and that it turned into talking. It’s not my fault I am in love Charles." Tears spill down your cheeks and your voice cracks at every word. The next day when Charles woke up, you were gone. Nothing from you was left in his apartment and he regretted his actions. He should’ve never done this. 

A few months passed and you found yourself walking in Monaco when suddenly a hand holding your wrist blocked you. You turned around to be met by golden eyes that you knew all too well. "Charles…" you whispered. "I’m sorry for what I did cherie let me arrange everything I beg you. I can’t live without you I want my girlfriend back." His eyes were glossy and your heart almost gave in. "Désolé Charles but it’s to late. I reached for you but you were gone, I knew I had to go back home. You searched the world for something else to make you feel like what we had." He let go of your wrist. "And in the end in wonderland we both went mad." A tear ran down his cheek as you walked away. 

As much as you hate to admit it, your heart still beats for him. You tried to move on but it was to hard you loved him so much but he broke your heart and you didn’t want to suffer anymore. You pulled your red scarf higher and adjusted your cardigan. Life was going to be hard but you promised yourself that you won’t suffer again because of love. 

TAGLIST

@motorsportbarbie13 @gorgeusreputation16 @f1addict3 @g00d--vibes @swiftlyconehead @paulinegba @carloswinner

[padawanoftheyear]

summer - luke hughes

in which: a childhood crushe turn into a summer that no one will forget

paring: Luke Hughes/Reader

☆-☆-☆-☆

Never in a million years would I even think Luke Hughes is cute, but of course, this was the summer my brain decided to look a little closer. 

 The Hughes and the (Y/L/N)’s families have been friends for, well… ever. I have known Quinn, Jack, and (of course) Luke all my life. We’ve gone to the Hughes family lake house every summer since I was a baby. 

 A lot has changed in two years, AKA since the last time I saw Luke. I finished Uni and Luke had just finished his rookie year in the NHL.

 So, when I saw Luke again (after being crushed in a hug by Jack and Quinn) I nearly had whiplash. His tall frame towered over me by about a half a foot as he walked closer. We hugged each other (i mean, it would look weird if we didn’t) and his cologne took over my senses… ahem…

Quinn and Jack snicker as we walk past them and Luke shoots them a glare. I laugh softly, maybe out of nervousness or just pure confusion. 

☆-☆-☆

After a few hours of hanging out with the Hughes boys, it feels like I never left two summers ago.

That night was a blur of late night boat rides and a few drinks around the fire (and Jack telling terrible jokes). Of course, fate likes to play jokes, too, because me and Luke were miraculously the last ones by the fire. 

“You grew.” I say, breaking a soon-to-be awkward silence. 

“So did you, more beautiful, I mean.” He smiles at me softly.

I matched his smile, “ Is that a compliment or a Star Wars reference?” 

He shrugs as his smile turns into a smirk, “Reference, obviously.” He takes a sip of his drink, his smirk growing wider. I let out a fake gasp that turns into a laugh, “Nerd.”

He rolls his eyes, “You are beautiful, though,” he mumbles and I nearly miss it. I pretend I never heard him, leaning back in my chair, hoping he doesn’t see my redding face. 

“Summer didn’t feel the same last year.”

“No, it wasn’t,” I say with a sigh.

Picking Uni over an actual summer vacation was not an easy decision, but working towards an early graduation was the best one.

“Any big drama I missed?” I crack a smile to lighten the mood a bit. 

He smiles back, a lock of his curly hair falling in front of his face, “Family drama? No. School drama? Well…”

I lean forward in my chair and rest my forearms on my knees, my smile growing into a smirk. Luke laughs at my reaction which makes my heart soar. 

☆-☆-☆

About two hours (and many drinks) later we get through nearly two years of stories and just as many laughs. His bright smile and his silhouette in the moonlight make my chest squeeze. 

Luke and I have always been the closest of the bunch, considering we were the closest in age. I always thought of the Hughes boys as, well, my own brothers. So, what's different this summer? 

Maybe his curly hair that he has grown out since being in the NHL? His taller stature? Maybe it's just being alone with him is what sets off the bomb of butterflies in me.

“...(Y/N)?”

My head snaps up from my blank gaze at the water.

“Sorry?” I shake my head and look back at him.

“Am I that uninteresting, Butterfly?” His brows furrowed as he leaned towards me.

Butterfly

Gods, I haven't heard that nickname since the 8th grade when all three of the Hughes boys made it their mission to give me the most random, awful nicknames.

First, Poppins (as in Mary) because of the time I spoke in a British accent for a week at a summer camp with Jack.

Next, Centipede, because of the time I confessed to being scared of anything with more than eight legs. For the rest of the year I was constantly chased by Quinn or Jack who had one of the devil-bugs in their hand. That name comes back quite a bit.

But, Butterfly never got an explanation. I always thought it was about the bug thing but I asked Luke and he said no and shrugged me off.

Luke's hand touches my cheek lightly and I come back into reality. 

“Are you ok?” he asks softly.

“Yeah, yeah sorry…” I mumble as blush stains my neck and cheeks.

“You seem tired, wanna head in?”

“Yeah, ok.” He helps me up from my chair and we grab the trash, then head inside.

☆-☆-☆

The rest of the week goes on without a hitch, but it’s the last day that’s my favorite.

Me and Luke are sitting out in a secluded area of the lake on our paddle boards. We used to go to this place all the time as kids. We would steal his dads little motorboat and ride to this spot in the dead of night when no one else was awake. 

“I missed our cove,” I say and smile into the afternoon sun.

He hums in agreement, “Remember when we always brought, like, dirt cheap beer out here?”

“Oh lord, I'm trying to forget…” I shake my head at the memory.

One summer we decided it would be a good idea to bring beers out on the lake. In short, we had really, really bad hangovers the next day.

“It could’ve been worse,” He says as he runs his fingers through his hair. 

I wish those were my- No, no. (Y/N), stop. 

I sigh and shrug. “I guess,” I retort. He tilts his head, and so do I.

“What?” He asks.

“What??” I ask back.

“Something is on your mind,” He scoots forward, “tell me.”

I furrow my eyebrows but he cuts me off before I can think of a reply, “last night you spaced out now you're acting weird he looks down so what's on your mind?”

 I smile softly and shake my head “you've changed, Hughes”

“Is that a bad thing?” 

“Not at all.”

 “So, why do you say I changed?” He paddles towards me again and holds my board so we don't float apart 

“You're more… confident, I guess” I say and he leans in.

 “Confident?” He draws, teasing.

 I scoff and push him back slightly, “maybe I should have said cocky-” 

He rolls his eyes as I speak, then pushes me off my board. Water rushes to my ears as I fall backwards.

 I paddle back to the surface and my head bobs up, “LUKE!! What the hell?!”

“In my defense,” he takes off his shirt and lowers his body into the water. I watch him the whole way down. “You called me cocky.”

I roll my eyes and swim the small distance to him. “You are cocky Luke Warren Hughes.”

Now he rolls his eyes and I laugh softly. He pauses for a moment Scanning my face. “You're beautiful,” he says softly.

“What??”

 “You heard me”

 I stutter. How do I respond to that?? The guy I've known my whole life (and liked for the past week) just call me beautiful. “I uhm-”

“I know it's weird for me to say it out loud but I've liked you forever, butterfly. I don't know what it is about seeing you again- but it gave me the confidence to say something.” He wades closer and I am at a loss for words.

“I know this isn't the best time to tell you this,” he retorts, “but I can't keep it down. You're the most amazing person I have ever met, (Y/N), and maybe I don't always remember that but every single time I see you I- I realize I don't want anyone else. I don't need anyone else, just you.”

 ….Am I dead? Am I dying?! I probably died when he pushed me into the water…

“Really?” I squeak out. It’s the only thing I can muster. He laughs nervously and I get back on my board. “Really really.”

I flush and look down at him in the water. “I was right, you're getting more confident, Hughes.” I lean in slightly, my breath shortening.

He gets the hint. 

He kisses me softly and butterflies erupt in my stomach. His lips are tender and sweet against mine, his taste imprinting into my brain in a way that I know I will never taste anything as warm, as loving, or as fulfilling as his. He leans deeper into me and my hands cup the nape of his neck. His hands circle my waist and I feel my skin heat under his touch. 

Memories flood my brain, all of him. The notes we passed in middle school, the dances we went to together, nights cuddled watching ‘The Mighty Ducks’. It all comes back to me.

He breaks the kiss first, catching his breath. I let him clamber onto my board and sit beside me. I look at him, taking in his Greek nose and cornflower eyes. He presses his mouth against my jaw and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. My hands smooth over his chest, the pads of my fingers collecting small droplets left on his skin. My fingers drift up and I tangle my fingers in his hair to tug him closer.

He looks up at me with his beautiful, beautiful eyes. He cups my face and his breath ghosts over my lips. My stomach flips, the same way it has this whole week. From chatting at the fire or sunbathing on the deck…

Never in a million years would I even think about kissing Luke Hughes, but of course, this was the summer my brain decided I should take a chance I will never regret.

☆-☆-☆-☆

A/N:

EEK!!!! I did it... I finally finished this fucking fic... whew.

I hope you enjoyed this little one-shot about our boy, Luke. Please leave comments about anything you liked (or disliked) about this fic :)

I will (hopefully) be making more NHL fics in the future, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

If you are reading this, I would like to say thank you to my friends, Lily and Nora, for looking over this fic and giving me support for my delusion (and hockey obsession).

[rowdyluv]

summary: a requested prompt with trevor, trevor and y/n cuddling up sharing memories of their years together.

warnings: none, absolute pure tooth rooting sweetness, quite literally, “its so fluffy I’m going to die”

word count: 2.8+

notes: request made by @sweetestdesire - “Tell me again how you fell in love with me.” “I literally told you yesterday. “I don’t care, I wanna hear it again. Plus, I love hearing you speak.” - altered slightly but not much

© property of quinnylouhughesx43 ; do not copy and re-upload as your own - anywhere. do not place my work inside AI codes, do not translate.

The rare California rain gently fell against her bedroom window, carrying with it the faint echo of wind and the occasional honk of a vehicle. Trevor and Y/n lay snug in her bed, their limbs intertwined in a familiar sense of comfort. The soft rustle of their sheets joined the sounds of the weather that filled the room, a stark contrast to the joyous and thunderous cheers of Ducks fans they had just left behind at the Honda Center, a lingering memory of the game that had just concluded.

Hopefully gone were the ugly memories of watching Trevor’s team lose game after game, the Duck’s were on a hot streak currently winning the last five home games as shutouts.

Y/n's head rested on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart, a rapid strumming that was slowly beginning to flow back into normal rhythm.

“I’m sorry we had to spend our 4-year anniversary at my game.” Trevor mumbled, he had apologized already at least twenty times, feeling terrible for not being able to do something for Y/n that day.

“Trevor, truly baby stop, I love going to your games!” She looked up at him, her eyes gleaming with affection. “I got to see you play, and score the game winning goal! I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else in the whole world, plus I am taking any opportunity to show off that I’m the only female who is wearing your last name with meaning.” She grinned a cheeky smile and he just shook his head.

They had met at one of his games, she had been dragged by one of her friends who was a die-hard Ducks fan. At that point in time, Trevor had been playing the not-so best season of his career. He was constantly in the box for silly retaliation calls, starting and finishing fights, he wasn’t scoring like a previous first rounder top prospect should have been. He was trying to keep himself from being distracted by the fans in the stands, so he hadn’t noticed her right away. It was her friend’s enthusiasm that had stood out among the sea of fans drawing his teammates eyes over during warmups.

However, when Trevor cracked and his attention was finally drawn by the way her friend cheered and yelled for his attention, his eyes fell on Y/n instead. The instant connection he thought that they had made, made him feel invincible on the ice that night. Trevor ended up earning himself a hat trick accompanied by two assists for a 5-1 win over the Sharks.

Trevor was determined to find her, after the game. He didn’t spare a single second for the media, he didn’t shower either. He wasn’t risking her leaving. In record time, he slung his gear off and changed into shorts and a t-shirt to make a mad dash out in hopes to find her still sitting in the seats behind the goal.

Luckily for him, she was still there. They ended up talking for hours after that game.

“Do you remember the night we met?” He asked her after being lost in his own memories about it.

Y/n’s eyes lit up, she had told the story to her friends and family a hundred times but hearing it from his perspective was something she never tired of. She nodded eagerly, “I was so nervous, I didn’t know why. Maybe it was because your eyes had this intense look when you were on the ice that night, or maybe it was just because you were so damn hot in your gear, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you.”

Trevor pinched her waist playfully, a smirk playing on his lips. “I looked hot eh?” He teased, his thumb stroking the skin just above her hip bone. She giggled, swatting his hand away playfully.

“Stop it! You know you do.” Her giggle fit died down before she tried to speak again. “So, if we’re starting to share our memories together,” she smiled at him whole fully.

Y/n propped herself up on her elbow, sole purpose to be able to look at him better.

“Remember that night at the beach, when we had our first kiss?” Her voice was soft, a gentle whisper that danced in the air between them, stirring up the butterflies in Trevor’s stomach like it had that very evening as if he was a schoolboy again.

Trevor’s eyes searched hers, the question in her gaze so earnest, so hopeful. He couldn’t help but smile at the memory of the cool sand beneath his feet, the sound of the waves crashing in the background, and the way the moon had painted the horizon in a soft silver light. The night before she made a surprise trip to the Sharks arena to watch him play, unfortunately this game didn’t work out in the Ducks favor. When Trevor received her message post game about being there he turned towards one of Ducks equipment managers giving them directions to go get her.

“The night at the beach, the day after you surprised me by showing up at the game in San Jose?” He said, his voice carrying a hint of surprise. As if he would forget about it.

“Yes, the very one. Where I just showed up and you guys had just lost….but you still took the time to see me or I guess wanted to see me, so you sent someone out to get me.”

“It wasn’t a want after I knew you were there babygirl, I needed to see you. I knew you were going to be my girl after you bought your own $100 plus ticket to come watch me play and you went by yourself. You paid, knowing I could have got you free tickets all so you could surprise me.” Trevor's voice grew softer, the memory bringing a gentle warmth to his words.

He paused for a moment, his gaze drifting to the ceiling as he relived the night.

He had felt a fierce protectiveness over her as she approached the locker room full of raging hormonal men. He had almost immediately wrapped his arms around her, the smell of the generic body wash in the guest showers mingling with her perfume, something sweet and floral. The moment between the two shared in front of the locker rooms was when he had hastily asked her out to the beach later the next day.

Y/n layed back down on her stomach, her chin propped up on his chest, her eyes searching his as she spoke. "The night on the beach when you stopped suddenly when we were walking, I was scared you were bored or something," she confessed, a hint of vulnerability in her tone. She had never admitted it to him before, the small doubt that had lurked in the back of her mind that night.

Trevor stilled his motions before speaking, his eyes focused on hers, "Bored? With you? Not a chance." His voice was gentle, a warm caress that seemed to dispel any lingering shadows of doubt. "I knew right then I wanted to kiss you. I just had a moment of second guessing in case you smacked me or ran away." He laughed slightly as he smiled. “Then you turned back around and the way you looked, looked at me, I didn’t care if you smacked me. It wouldn’t hurt long. And hell, I’m a professional athlete. I'd catch up if you ran.”

Y/n felt her heart swell with affection as she laughed. "You're so dramatic," she said, her voice filled with love and amusement. She reached up and brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, her fingertips tracing the line of his cheekbone.

Trevor's smile grew with the soft touch of affection. "Maybe, but it's all true." His voice grew husky, the emotion of the memory thick in the air.

“Hey, Y/n?” He whispered, grabbing her by the waist with both hands lifting her to lay on top of him.

Her eyes searched for him, questioning and curious of the sudden change in position. He didn’t say a word, instead he leaned in and kissed her with a tenderness that could melt an entire ice rink three times over. It was the kind of kiss that made time stand still, where every beat of his heart resonated against her own. A kiss that was sweet and gentle, like a whispered promise of forever. It was a nice and welcomed difference to the passionate, urgent kisses they often shared in the bed they were occupying, but no less powerful in its own right.

When he pulled away, she found herself breathless, a soft blush painting her cheeks. “Trev, what was that for?”

He looked into her eyes, the warmth in his gaze making her feel like she was the only person in the universe. “I just wanted to remind you how much I love you, and that every day, every moment with you, makes me love you even more than I did the last time I said it.” He spoke with such conviction, his words a sweet melody that filled her soul. “I love you more now, than I did when we got home, and I’m sure you’ll give me a reason before tomorrow to love you more than I do right now.”

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat at his declaration, a feeling that was becoming as familiar as the sound of their breath mingling together. She knew she didn’t need the reassurance, but she craved it. She craved to hear his voice tell her that he felt the same way she did. That she wasn’t just some girl he had picked out in the crowd one night who had gotten lucky to get to know him, but the love of his life.

“Trevor.” Y/n whispered, laying her head against his shoulder, still lying on top of him, Trevor’s arms wrapped securely around her waist. “Will you tell me again how you fell in love with me?”

Trevor’s chuckle was a warm rumble under her cheek, a gentle reminder of his presence, and of his affection. “You’re like your little nephew asking for a bedtime story when he stays, you know that?” He said playfully, his eyes crinkling at the corners. But the request from her, nor the little guy, didn’t annoy him.

It was quite the opposite, it reminded him of their earlier days together. Back to when he first told her he loved her, back when she would ask him almost every day just to hear him say it.

He sighs and kisses her forehead before starting his story, his eyes closed as he recounts the moments that had led up to him falling for her. "I was in love with you far before I told you I was," he starts, his voice low and earnest. "Remember that summer when we got lost on our way to the Hughes’ lake house?"

Y/n nods, a smile playing on her lips, "You were so mad at the GPS," she murmurs, the memory bringing a hint of embarrassment to her voice, “thinking that it was wrong, but I had accidentally put the address in wrong. You never showed anger to me once we realized and wouldn’t let me apologize either. You laughed with me, not at me.”

Trevor’s arms tighten around her slightly. That summer had been one of the best of his life. It was the summer he had realized she was more than just the girl who had stolen his attention at the game. She was the girl who was breaking down every wall. Walls that he had no idea existed until she was in his life, because no other girl had ever managed to reach them.

"I was in love with you before I knew I was," he repeats in a caressing whisper. "It was the way you'd laugh at my terrible jokes, the way you not only cheer me on, but the entire team. It’s how even when I was playing like shit, you were still right there by my side. You see me for me I know that if I don’t or can’t play, you’ll still be here. You’re not here for the hockey side of me. It was the way you looked at me in a room full of people, like I was the only person in the room that mattered." His voice grew softer with each word, each memory weaving a tapestry of emotion in the air.

She’s heard the explanation a few hundred times over the four years, each time it fills her with so many emotions that she can’t help but tear up a little. She had never experienced such a love before Trevor, she never wants to experience anyone else’s but his.

“I knew it, when I had to pull over and ask that old man with his pet llama if you could pet it. You were so embarrassed I actually did it but you talked about petting the llama all day.” Trevor laughed remembering that specifically odd encounter.

“I still can’t believe I got to pet a llama because of you, that was pretty amazing.”

The warmth in her voice brought a grin to his face as he leaned further back into the pillows. She was so much more than he had ever hoped for in a partner.

"Every time I saw you, every moment we spent together, it was like you were throwing little glances of light into the darkest parts of me." Trevor's voice grew softer, his eyes still closed as if he could feel the moments more deeply that way. "You had this way of making everything feel right, even when everything was so wrong." He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing, his grip on her waist tightening slightly as the weight of his feelings pressed against his chest.

“The first time I told you that I love you that New Year’s Eve, when I flew back early to surprise you, during our first year together. I was so anxious. I had never felt this way about anyone before. And when I saw your face light up like the Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center when you opened the door to your apartment when I knocked, I had to tell you, right then and there. I blurted it out right in your face like the idiot goofball that I am. But whenever you feel so in love with someone the way I do, the kind that makes you want to jump out of airplanes to see if it matches the way they make your heart race or fight your way through the crazy mob of media instead of taking the interviews just to take a chance at meeting them.”

Trevor unwrapped his arms from her waist, only to move his hand to tilt her head to look up at him.

“Y/n, every day since then, that love has only grown and grown until it’s all I can think about, no you’re all I can think about. To the point I know that I want to marry you one day." His voice was steady, filled with certainty that had been growing in his heart for months, waiting for the perfect moment to tell her.

Y/n popped up with renewed energy, elated with the words that fell from his lips. “One day? Why not elope tomorrow? I have been waiting for you to say that for, forever. I don’t need big and fancy, I just need you.” She was beaming at him, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Trevor shook his head in amazement, his eyes filled with love and amusement. "You're something else, you know that?" He replied, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb. "But no, not tomorrow, I want to do it right. Meaning I am going to ask you, not you ask me. I also know that you do want some type of ceremony, I’ve seen you scroll through Pinterest.” He stroked the side of her cheek with his thumb, wiping away the small tear that had fallen. The smile she wore let him know she wasn’t crying from him saying no. “I have always been one to rush into everything. I want us to take our time and make sure that when we do get married, it's a day neither of us will ever forget."

Her heart fluttered at his words, feeling the love between them grow stronger with each shared memory, and his confession. The room grew quiet once again, their breaths mingling together in a soft dance of contentment.

"I can't wait for that day," she whispered with a yawn taking over her words, her second wind of energy vanishing as quickly as it appeared. "But until then, I'm happy being with you just like this." Her eyes fluttered shut and reopened slowly.

“It’s okay to go to sleep, I will be here tomorrow. I can always talk about whatever it is you have ready to ask me then.” Trevor assured here pressing a kiss to her head from an awkward position. “Close your eyes and go to sleep, babygirl.”

tag list: @thedevilrisen @luke-hughes43

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[thyras]

→ luminary - two

PAIRING → adar x f!Maia!reader, mentions of sauron | mairon | halbrand x f!Maia!reader

WORD COUNT → 3.2k words

WARNINGS → mentions of torture, manipulation, the usual with sauron

SUMMARY → you try to plead your case to adar in hopes he will let you free.

AUTHORS NOTE → okay, so y'all are in for a treat; this has become a three-parter because this part took on a life of its own and in order to finish the story i will need another part. i'm feeling better and inspired so it should be out shortly. sorry this is not a heavy sauron chapter but i kinda am feeling things toward adar lol.

The great halls of Angband rose around you, oppressive and unyielding, their jagged walls a testament to Morgoth’s dominion. Ash choked the air, and the ceaseless echoes of toil filled your ears. You walked these halls as an anomaly—a flicker of light caught in the heart of shadow. Once, your song coaxed life from barren earth; now, it lent itself to creations you scarcely recognize. The melody that escaped your lips was foreign and haunted, a strange lament that mourned even as it shaped the corrupted life you are tasked to help create.

You followed him here, into this abyss. Mairon, with his golden brilliance now dimmed by ambition, his fire now bent to serve Morgoth’s dark will. You told yourself your love brought you here, hoping your light would temper the shadow. You still cling to that hope in your heart, though it weakened with every passing day.

The moment Morgoth commanded the creation of Orcs, your spirit recoiled. Twisting the forms of captured Elves and corrupting what had been pure was a task that stood against everything you were. Yet Morgoth’s will was absolute, and Mairon—brilliant, persuasive, relentless—implored you to lend your abilities to the endeavor.

"You see only corruption," Mairon said to you one night, his voice smooth and measured, "but we see potential. To take what is broken and remake it—what higher purpose is there? Is this not the essence of creation itself?"

His words burrowed into your thoughts, gilded with his subtle logic. Could you shape these perversions into something less abhorrent, lend even a glimmer of mercy to Morgoth’s cruelty? You sang, your voice trembling, and in that moment, you betrayed yourself as much as the Music of the Ainur. You softened the suffering of the broken forms with your song, your heart crying for them even as your hands worked.

In the long, grim days that followed, Mairon sustained you. Even dimmed by the darkness, his eyes were still a beacon in the wasteland. You worked together in Angband’s vast workshops, where his hands would shape terrible wonders, and yours tempered the chaos of his designs. In those shared hours, your bond deepened, and your love became a fragile lifeline against the encroaching despair.

"You are my reminder," he told you one night in the forge, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "The only part of me that this place hasn’t swallowed."

You saw the cracks in his armor then, the fragments of the Maia he had been before Morgoth’s shadow claimed him. You loved him—not for the darkness he had embraced but for the light you still glimpsed beneath it, the part of him that mirrored your yearning to create and belong.

The Orcs, the grotesque fruits of Morgoth’s command, haunted you. Their twisted forms were a blight upon the beauty you once nurtured, yet you could not deny your part in their creation. You stood in the dim chambers where Mairon worked, your hands trembling as your song, distorted and broken, lent vitality to the corrupted flesh. You hated what you were doing, but you could not turn away.

Mairon watched you as you labored; his expression was unreadable. "You despise this," he said, his voice neither condemning nor cruel.

"How could I not?" you whisper, your voice raw. "They are a perversion of Eru’s design."

He steps closer, his presence a fire that comforts and threatens to consume you. "And yet they endure," he says, his tone almost reverent. "Is that not a kind of beauty?"

You cringed at his words, for they echo your unspoken thoughts. You clung to the hope that your presence here, your touch, might make some difference, however slight, in the fates of these ruined beings. It is this fragile hope that sustained you.

Your love for Mairon was tested daily, strained by the darkness surrounding him and the horrors you could not escape. He grew colder, more consumed by Morgoth’s ambitions, and his brilliance turned toward dominion and control. Yet there were moments when he was still the Mairon you knew—the golden craftsman whose work once filled you with awe.

One night, you tell him, "You are losing yourself." You stood together atop one of Angband’s balconies, the air thick with ash and the faint glow of distant fires.

His eyes flash with frustration. "And what would you have me do? Defy Morgoth? Do you think his wrath would spare us—or anyone?"

"I would have you remember who you are," you plead, your voice trembling. "What you are capable of beyond this."

He looks at you then, his gaze softening. For a moment, the mask falls, and you see the man you once loved, unshadowed by ambition. He reaches for you, his hand brushing your cheek. "You are my light in this darkness," he murmurs. "But even the brightest star cannot banish the night."

The weight of your deeds in Angband became unbearable. You could not ignore the growing hordes of Orcs; their existence reminded you of your complicity. Even your song, once a source of solace, now carried the dissonance of the darkness you had helped shape. The world outside Angband felt like a distant memory you feared you might never reclaim.

Mairon changed, too. His ambition hardened his devotion to Morgoth, which deepened as he forged ever-greater weapons and made plans that spanned ages. He became a figure you barely recognized, his brilliance now a cold, calculating force. The love you shared remained but was fragile, strained by the weight of your choices and the shadow that loomed between you.

The moment came when you could no longer endure. The darkness, horrors, and widening chasm between you and Mairon were too much. You stood before him in your shared chambers, your decision etched into your weary expression.

"I cannot stay," you said, your voice steady despite the ache in your heart.

He turns to you, his gaze sharp. "And where will you go? To the Valar? To Yavanna? Do you think they will welcome you after all you’ve done?"

You faltered at his words, but you steeled yourself. "I do not know," you admitted. "But I cannot remain here. I cannot watch you become... this."

For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, with a heavy sigh, he stepped closer, his hands resting on your shoulders. "You have always been too good for this place," he said softly. "Too good for me."

You reached for him, your fingers brushed against his. "Come with me," you whispered. "We can leave this behind. Together."

But he shook his head, his eyes dimmed with sorrow, his voice barely a whisper. "I cannot. Morgoth’s will binds me now. But go, Nelyanna. Go, and take what light you have left with you."

For a brief moment, freedom had been yours—a fleeting taste of something sweet, intoxicating, and long denied. You had summoned every ounce of strength to leave Angband behind, to step out of its suffocating shadow. But even as you ran, you knew deep down it was already too late. Morgoth's reach extended far, and his grasp was unrelenting.

And in your heart, you knew who had betrayed you. Mairon. It could only have been him. The thought pierced you like a dagger, the weight of his betrayal heavy on your soul. He had known you were gone. He had known, and still, he had chosen to inform Morgoth.

The Orcs came for you swiftly, creatures you had helped bring into existence, their twisted forms a cruel mockery of what you once stood for. They drug you back through the blackened halls of Angband, their claws tearing at your skin as they hauled you to the dungeons. You struggled, but it was futile. Their strength was overwhelming, their cruelty unrelenting.

And then you saw him.

Standing in the shadows, fiery red hair catching the dim torchlight, dark eyes gleaming with malicious satisfaction. Mairon. He watched silently as you were drug past him, his expression unreadable at first. But then it came—the smile. That cruel, sadistic smile that cut deeper than any blade. It was a look you would never forget, one that would haunt you in the depths of your despair.

He did not speak. He did not need to. The smile alone was enough to etch itself into your memory, a reminder of how far he had fallen—and how deeply he had betrayed you.

Your eyes snapped open, the subtle shift in the air alerting you to another presence. You turned, your gaze settling on Adar as he approached from the shadows. He moved quietly, his steps deliberate, and though unarmed, the absence of his sword did nothing to diminish the weight of his presence. He stopped just beyond the bars, his dark eyes meeting yours with an intensity that suggested he had been waiting for this moment.

“I remember stories—myths, really—of fallen Maiar,” he said, his voice calm but laced with intrigue. His gaze lingered as though searching your face for a reaction. “Twisted and tortured by Morgoth to serve as his spies.”

The sound of your Maia name on his lips froze you momentarily back when you had been first brought before him. It had been centuries since you had last heard it spoken by anyone other than Mairon, centuries since anyone had dared to acknowledge the truth of what you once were. You straightened slightly, forcing calm into your voice. “I am no longer that.”

A soft, almost knowing smile curved Adar’s lips as he leaned closer to the bars, his voice lowering as though he were sharing a secret. “No? And yet, I was there when you gave me new life.”

Your throat tightened at his words. You lowered your gaze to your bound hands, the memories he invoked stirring a deep ache within you. “I parted ways with that life long ago,” you said, your voice quieter now. “You know that. You were there.”

Adar inclined his head in acknowledgment, his movements slow and deliberate. “I saw you then—on that nameless peak, standing beside Sauron. Your beauty was... unmatched. Untouched by darkness. You offered me—” He paused, his eyes searching yours.

“I offered you something no being could resist,” you murmured, cutting him off as the memory surfaced, sharp and vivid. Your voice softened as you recalled your words to the elf he had been before his fall. “I offered you a chance to sin. To taste something so beautiful it would hurt to refuse.”

Adar’s lips quirked in a faint smile, though his expression remained distant, contemplative. “But I resisted.”

“You did,” you replied, leaning forward slightly. “You dared not diminish what you thought was divine beauty.”

“But it was already gone,” he said softly, as though the admission were for himself as much as for you.

A bitter laugh escaped you. “What you saw was an illusion,” you said, your voice edged with something sharper than sorrow. “My so-called beauty was a mask, a lie. The real me—what Morgoth had twisted me into—was hidden beneath.”

For a fleeting moment, you thought you saw something shift in his eyes. A flicker of emotion you could not name, a shadow of hurt or regret.

“You could leave this cage at any time, but why have you not,” he said after a long pause, changing the subject as he straightened and gestured to your surroundings.

“He has no power over me,” you replied sharply, your tone brittle. “Just as I have little left of my own.”

Adar regarded you thoughtfully, his head tilting ever so slightly. “Redemption,” he said, at last, his voice soft and almost nostalgic. You spoke of it often before you parted ways. “I imagine you did not find the reception you hoped for.”

The question struck a nerve, and you looked away, your fingers tightening around the chains binding your wrists. Adar’s perceptiveness was unnerving. “You’re not wrong,” you admitted after a pause, your voice barely above a whisper. “I returned to Aman as I thought I must. I repented. But the punishment they gave...” You trailed off, its weight pressing against your chest.

“They did not forgive,” Adar said, his tone laced with sympathy and the faintest hint of bitterness.

“They forgave,” you corrected, “but they did not forget. I was stripped of my gifts, condemned to this form—an elven maiden with mortal needs for sleep and sustenance. They called it mercy.”

Adar watched you for a moment longer, his expression unreadable. Then he moved closer to the bars, his voice quiet but insistent. “And now? Do you regret it? Choosing their mercy over your power?”

Your lips parted, but no answer came. In your silence, Adar nodded as though your hesitation was answer enough. “You may think yourself diminished,” he said, his voice soft but steady. “But even now, I see the fire in you. They may have caged you, stripped you of what you were—but they have not broken you.”

His words lingered in the dark, a faint echo against the silence. For the first time in an age, you felt something stir within you—a flicker of the light you thought had been extinguished long ago.

You had been here before, locked in a dance of words with Adar, the echoes of a similar conversation reverberating in your memory. Then, it had been after he had murdered your husband. In the wake of that act, you had felt a bitter sense of freedom—freedom from Mairon’s relentless grip on your mind and heart. Yet, that freedom had been cold, a hollow existence devoid of the heat of his adoration and the unyielding devotion he had once offered you, even as he betrayed you time and time again.

As he was doing now with Lady Galadriel.

Adar had always known you would run back to Mairon, as inevitable as the tide’s return to the shore. He knew the Great Deceiver’s web was spun too tightly around you, the threads of his influence woven through every fiber of your being. You could proclaim your freedom all you wished, but Adar saw the truth: Mairon’s shadow still loomed over you. And Adar knew as well as you did that Mairon would come for you. Whether to reclaim you, punish you, or silence you for all that you knew, he would come.

You summoned what strength remained within you, your hands gripping the cold iron bars as you pushed your face forward, so close that your breath mingled faintly with Adar’s. “What do you want, Uruk?” you demanded, your voice sharp, cutting.

Adar tilted his head, considering you, his dark eyes unreadable. Then, with deliberate slowness, he reached out, his fingers brushing against your tangled hair. With a gentleness that was startling, he tucked a loose strand behind your ear, a gesture that made your skin crawl even as it caught you off guard.

“I want him gone,” he said at last, his voice quiet but firm. “And I want your children to be free.”

You leaned back, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “Free?” you scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. “You speak of freedom while I sit in a cage.”

Adar’s expression remained steady, unfazed by your scorn. “I want them to have a home,” he continued, his voice steady, almost pleading. “A place where they will never have to live in fear. Would you not want that for your children?”

His words struck a nerve, and your glare sharpened as you spat, “They are not my children.”

The bitterness in your voice was palpable, and you saw the faintest flicker of something in Adar’s expression—perhaps understanding, perhaps disappointment. “I despise their creation,” you continued, your tone colder now. “They are the reason I am caged in this body.”

Adar studied you for a long moment, his gaze unrelenting. You could feel the weight of his scrutiny as though he sought to unravel the tangled threads of your emotions. But whatever thoughts lingered behind his dark eyes, he kept them to himself, and the silence between you grew heavy, laden with unspoken truths.

You turned away from Adar’s gaze, the weight of his presence pressing down on you like a stormcloud. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you began, your voice low and worn. “I was taken against my will,” you said, the words falling like stones into the silence. “Forced to be Morgoth’s bearer of fruits, manipulated by Sauron to love him and to carry out his master’s will, even as every fiber of my being recoiled in disgust.”

Your hands trembled, and you clasped them tightly in your lap to steady yourself. “I always saw something in him,” you continued, your voice thick with emotion. “A light buried beneath the darkness, faint and fleeting. I clung to it in those days when hope was but a whisper. I thought, if I pulled hard enough, if I could reach deep enough, I could bring him back. That we might love as Aulë and Yavanna do—partners in creation, equals in devotion.”

You let out a bitter laugh, the sound hollow and sharp in the dim space between you and Adar. “But it was always an illusion.”

The confession hung in the air as you leaned back against the bars, seeking distance from Adar’s unyielding gaze. The cold metal pressed against your back was a small anchor, a reminder of where you were—and why. “I thought my light could fix him,” you said after a long pause, your voice quieter now, tinged with sorrow. “But that was never the case.”

You tilted your head back, staring into the stars above. A lone tear touched your cheek. “He never loved me,” you said, the words raw, torn from the depths of your soul. “He never wanted me—not for who I was. He wanted my power, my gifts, the pieces of me he could use to further his own ambitions.”

Your fingers clenched against your bounds as you added, your voice breaking, “And now that I no longer have it, he seeks another. Another source of power to manipulate. Another pawn to use.”

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the faint sound of your unsteady breathing. Adar said nothing, his presence heavy and watchful, as though waiting for you to find your way through the jagged shards of your confession. “I will give you their name,” you said, “but please, let me leave this cage.”

Adar remained silent for a long moment, his dark eyes piercing through you as though weighing the sincerity of your plea. At last, he spoke, his tone calm but edged with something unyielding. “You will give me the name,” he said, his words deliberate and measured. “And I will think about letting you free.”

You stared at him in disbelief, the weight of his response settling heavily in your chest. You had bared your soul to him, laid out your deepest secrets and the fragile hope that you might escape Mairon’s shadow. And still, he held you here, bound and helpless.

“You do not trust me,” you said, raising a brow, your voice laced with disbelief.

Adar inclined his head slightly, his gaze steady and unrelenting. A faint smile touched his lips, though it lacked warmth. “You have never given me a reason to, my lady.”

The words struck like a blade, and you felt their truth cut deep. Whatever bond you once shared with Adar was buried beneath layers of betrayal and mistrust. He was not wrong—but that did not make the sting any less bitter.

[riveranova]

youre headcanons were so funny, could you do more please? there is this trend on tiktok where girlfriends film their boyfriends sleeping positions, can you do that but with the ikemen prince guys?

and female reader please and thank you!💗💗

A/N: I know EXACTLY what you mean! So sorry for the long wait, here you go! <3

I also made this Gender Neutral because there is no mention of any gender. I hope thats fine!

IkePri's Sleeping positions! x GN! Reader - Part 1

Warnings: A teensie bit suggestive, pure crack to be honest, Nokto

Characters: Gilbert, Silvio, Keith, Sariel, Rio, Clavis, Notko, Ikemen Prince

Word Count: 610

Gilbert von Obsidian

- Still - LIke, he doesn't move - He scares the shit out of you because he's literally cold and unmoving - Literally laying there like 🧍🏻 - WILL make fun of you if you panic and wake him up - He's a little shit, obviously he thinks that your crying face is adorable - Do you honestly think that he'd go out like that? - Do you even love him? - It's not that? Ahh, so you doubt him. - ''I'm hurt, little rabbit. I think I need to remind you how alive I truly am, heehee...''

Silvio Ricci

-This man is a prick - If you sleep in the same bed as him, I'm sorry - Will 100% not only steal your blankets and throw them to the floor but will also take up all the space in your bed - I don't think he's completely silent when he sleeps but he doesn't snore either - More like.. really loud breathing - My dog breathes really loud when he's sleeping well - Hold on.. Silvios crest- - I rest my case.

Keith Howell

-I'm pretty sure that he's a silent sleeper - There is one big problem, uh tall problem - Tall. He's very tall. (I'm 181cm, I feel the pain) - I'd imagine that he has trouble sleeping in small beds because of his height - Poor guy is completely folded next to you so that you have some space - His back pain must be horrible, oh dear - Now, his alter is a different story - I think he'd just pull you onto him - He's tall and strong, he can be your bed <3

Sariel Noir

-Does he even sleep - I think the question with him isn't how he sleeps but how you find him sleeping - His job is hard and trying to keep the chaos (Clavis & Nokto, really) in check is a lot - Falls asleep on his desk, mostly - Hunched over his papers, the candle already out and cold for a long time - This man has chronic back pain, that isn't even up for debate - Wakes up easily and decides to follow you into bed

Rio Ortiz

-I think he doesn't sleep much either - For him, I think it's because he just has too much energy - He just loves to get everything ready for you to start your day, he knows you work so, so hard - But even this battery needs some charging sometimes - Can and will sit down on a chair, sleep (sitting straight up) for an hour and wake up as if he slept a week - Has no back pain either - What is his secret? We will never know

Clavis Lelouch

-Okay. - We know that this idiot doesn't even have a bed in his room - When he does sleep, he just throws himself into his couch and sleep like that - Because when he's tired.. He's TIRED - Hangs off of the side of the couch like not quite dried paint - Cyran covers him with a blanket sometimes but doesn't bother most of the time because Clavis just plucks it off in his sleep - Doesn't sleep very long or very deep, he has a tight schedule after all! Haha! Ahaha! Haa.. poor Sariel.

Nokto Klein

-:I - I think we all know where this is going - Look, I know he's not ALL about women and sex - But he's MOSTLY about it and I'm pretty sure he doesn't even care where he falls asleep - Literally falls asleep with his arms in postions that do NOT look comfortable - Don't worry tho, just pluck his arms from under whatever bodypart they are and lay him down normally - Deep sleeper, 100% - Has mastered THE nap. Like the one where you wake up and you have imprints of your clothes

Thank you for reading, requests are always open!

[imtryingbuck]

Nightmares and Shopping

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC!Theo

Summary: Bucky has to marry a woman who surprises him more and more as their story goes along.

Word count: 2,902

Warnings: angst. nightmares. mentions of urine. Eliza being the biggest cunt known to man. mentions of scars.

Masterlist   Series Masterlist

By the time they had managed to try and salvage any of the supplies out of the warehouse - which wasn't a lot - it was late. Everyone was waiting for Bucky to say something, to say anything but he was silent. He didn't utter a word going there, during or after.

Getting into the car Bucky looked at his watch and sighed at how late it was, knowing that the conversation he was having with Theo before Steve interrupted was going to have to wait until morning, something he didn't want.

Walking into his home he climbed the stairs not even uttering a 'good night' like he did every night, leaving his family confused to his behaviour behind him.

Once he was settled into the huge warm embrace of his bed he let the quietness drift him off to sleep.

Bucky's startled awake from his slumber as the screams pierced throughout the house. Rubbing the sleep that had gathered in his eyes he grabs the gun from his bedside table and jumps out of bed.

He sees the members of his found family in the doorways to their room, each already armed. The screams of pure terror ring out from Theo's bedroom, not wasting a single second he barges inside nearly taking the door of its hinges, gun ready to shoot at the intruder who had the nerve to break in to his home and attack his wife.

Eyes searching the room he slowly lowers his gun, his heart cracking when he sees Theo backed into the corner rocking back and forth with her knees pulled tightly to her chest, stream of tears sliding down her cheeks. His heart cracking even more when he sees the blood lightly flowing from her swollen lips as she bites down on them.

"Doll, sweetheart wake up please" He pleads softly.

"No more pl-ple-please no more"

"Theo wake up sweet girl"

"P-p-please ma-ke them sto-p E-Eliza"

Bucky swears his heart is going to stop beating at the way she stutters, the way she pushes her already small frame further into the wall. The words she begs make his blood boil he mentally fights with his heart and mind, his heart wants to protect his wife even from her nightmares whilst his mind wants to know more so he can put a bullet through the bastards head who hurt her.

Placing his gun on the bottom of her bed he slowly walks towards her pleading with her to wake up as he goes, kneeling down on the ground in front of her he doesn't grimace when he kneels in the puddle of urine.

"Doll wake up please, you're safe no one's going to hurt you. Please baby wake up"

"No mo-more"

"No more sweetheart, I promise you. Just open those pretty eyes for me"

Steve needed to hold on to Wanda as she tried to get towards Theo to help her. Nat lowered her head. Sam flinched at the woman's cries.

Bucky. Bucky was trying to keep it together.

"N-no m-mo-more?" She questioned whilst still asleep.

“No more sweetheart." He promises.

Sighing a breath of relief as she pants for air, her eyes open. "M-mr James"

"Bucky sweetheart, your safe"

"I-I'm so sorry sir"

"Don't apologise come on let's get you cleaned up okay?"

"I-I-I'll clean-" her hands hovered over the accident she had.

"I'm talking about cleaning you up. Wanda's here and she'll help you okay darling"

Calling Wanda over he holds out his hand for Theo to take. When Wanda takes Theo into the bathroom, Nat leaves to get some clothes from Wanda's room before knocking softly to hand them to Wanda, Sam still had his eyes trained on the bathroom door. Steve moves in with a towel gripped tightly in his hand going to lay it over the puddle Bucky takes it from him and does it himself.

"Buck?"

"What am I going to do Stevie?" The last time Steve has ever seen his best friend cry was years ago when his grandmother had passed away. Seeing him with tears wetting his cheeks Steve doesn't waste a moment to pull his brother into his arms.

"We'll figure it out I promise"

As Bucky was about to reply the door came open revealing Theo who was now wearing clean clothes that belonged to Wanda.

"I'm going to be staying with her tonight Buck" Wanda speaks lowly.

They all watch as Theo moves quickly with her head down and crawls under the bed. Wanda gave Bucky a tight lipped smile and copied her friend's movements.

The rest go back to bed but Bucky. He shuts the door and drops to his knees, he lays on the floor next to the bed and slowly moves his hand out to reach hers.

Falling asleep on the cold wooden flooring was uncomfortable but Bucky found solace as he slid his hand into Theo's, her fingers squeezing ever so gently.

The sun rouses Wanda making her the first one to wake out of the trio, she beams at the sight of Bucky's hand linked tightly together with Theo's. Taking slow steps towards the door she makes her escape.

"Morning guys" she greets as she walks into the kitchen.

Receiving a chorus of greetings she takes a slice of toast off Nat's plate earning herself a smack on the hand.

"Bucky stayed with us last night, well early hours in the morning”

"Was anyone else's heart breaking at her cries or was it just me?" Sam questions with food in his mouth.

"How many times have I told you not to do that?" Steve's quick to scold him "and no mine was too"

"Same" Nat nods.

"So I was thinking all of us should leave, give all the staff the day off that way they can spend the day together" Steve says watching as his friends nod in agreement. They know Bucky needs this push.

The four of them clear out the house before Bucky and Theo wakes.

Bucky walks into the kitchen and sees Theo cooking breakfast he stands there for a moment to watch.

When he woke up he panicked when she wasn't there but hearing the distant sound of bacon sizzling he gathered she was downstairs.

"Morning Theo"

"Mr James I-I'm so sorry about last night"

"Bucky, everyone calls me Bucky so please stop with the whole mr James shit and stop apologising everyone gets nightmares" he says softly.

He stood and watched as her head dipped low as she turns back around to the bacon in the pan.

"Where is everyone?" He asks.

"There's a note on the counter"

He walks over to where a piece of paper laid on the marble top-

***

Buck we gave the day off to the staff and we've gone out for the day so you and Theo can talk, get to know each other.

Wanda says take Theo shopping as she desperately needs clothes.

See you later

***

"It's just the two of us today Wanda says to take you shopping for clothes, so we'll eat and go shopping, would that be okay?"

"I don't have any money sir"

"I'll pay and what have I said about calling me sir?"

"N-not to do it. I'm sorry. You don't need to waste your money on me"

"Stop apologising as well, please. And Theo I won't be wasting money on you"

Bucky's quick to notice that there's only enough food for him so as Theo's about to put the food out he tells her to sit at the table, putting the food she made in front of her he makes himself breakfast.

After eating and putting the dishes away they retreat upstairs.

"The store that Wanda loves to go to isn't that far we can go there if you like or do you have somewhere else in mind?" Bucky questions once the pair was on the road.

"I've never been shopping before Wanda took me" she whispers.

"Oh. I'm sorry that the first time you went shopping was with Wanda that girl don't know when to stop"

Bucky nearly crashed the car when he heard Theo laugh. Wanda was wrong, it wasn't cute. It was heavenly.

His eyes couldn't stop bouncing from the road to her sitting next to him, a small smile playing on his lips hoping, wishing that he could hear it again and again until death did them part. Even though he remembered that Theo had asked Michael for a divorce he kept telling himself that there was time for him to fix this marriage.

"It was fun, I had fun" she says with a smile.

"I'm glad, you and Wanda get along well don't you?"

"She said I'm her friend"

"Is she yours?"

"I've never been anyone's friend before an-and l've never had one b-but I think she is" giving a light shrug, Bucky's heart pangs at her confession.

"She's a great friend to have, loyal and kind, supportive and fiercely protective. Wanda's more like my sister really" He sees her smiling and he loves seeing the way her dimple dips in.

Noticing they had arrived he pulls up and gets out the car before she could, opening her door he smiles.

"Welcome Mr Barnes, I'll have the store cleared out immediately" the manager spoke quickly before dashing away.

And immediately it was, within a few minutes the whole store was empty aside from Bucky, Theo and the manager.

"Get whatever you like, if you need help Ria will help okay?" Bucky asked as he notices Theo not moving.

Nodding and moving a price tag on a shirt that looked similar to that of Wanda's had her gasping at the price moving along her palms started to sweat, the prices of the clothing making her heart beat unevenly. It didn't help that she could feel Bucky's eyes on her.

She couldn't understand why he was doing this for her not since she had told him about asking her father to let them divorce and let one of his daughters marry him instead and especially not with what happened the night before, she pissed herself in front of him and now he was taking her shopping.

It didn't make sense.

"Theo? Is everything okay?" Bucky's soft voice startled her.

Making her way over to where he stood she lowered her head and whispered "everything is really expensive sir"

"Don't worry about money, have you seen something you like?" though she liked the top that reminded her of her new found friend she shook her head.

"We can go somewhere else if you like?" he tries again.

Nodding she looked up and out of the window, across the street a little ways down there was a store and from what she could see the sign said "Thrift Store" and a huge red sign saying sale was hanging in the window.

Looking back at Bucky her breath stuttered in surprise at the fact he was already staring at her.

"Ca-can we go there, please?" pointing at the store Bucky's blue eyes followed her arm as she pointed.

"A-are you sure?" nodding at his question "O-okay" a thrift store he scoffed in his head. Saying his goodbyes to the manager he opened the door for Theo.

Once they had entered the store the owner had forced all the customers out in hopes to please the Mob boss.

"Anything catching your eye?"

"N-not sure"

He watches as she glides around the store, watching as her eyes light up before picking out an item then moving on to the next. Bucky smiles softly at her when she lifts her head up eyes darting around until she lands on him, giving him a shy smile her head goes back down as she continues her hunt.

"I-I like these sir"

"They look good, would you like me to hold them as you continue to look?"

Shaking her head softly "I'm done sir"

"Theo there's only two pairs of trousers and a shirt here" he says as he looks at the very small pile of clothing in her hands.

"That's a-all I'm allowed"

"No sweetheart, you need to fill your wardrobe up. It's okay to get more, I saw you pick up lots of clothing that had you smiling"

"I only need two pairs of trousers and a shirt..."

"Not to fill a wardrobe up. Pass me those and let's get you some more, okay"

Handing him the items she trailed behind him like a lost puppy as he seem to have memorised her previous movements. Soon enough the owner had to come over and take the clothes out of Bucky's hands and placed them on the counter.

"J-James this is too much"

"Nonsense, is there anything catching your eye?"

"N-no"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes sir"

As they moved over to the counter where two huge piles awaited them there was two things that caught Bucky's eyes, one of them being something that he watched Theo touch delicately - a rugged brown bear.

The other was a jacket that had cross stitched patches on the elbows and breast pocket, though he still didn't know his wife the jacket screamed Theo, so when she wasn't looking he picked both items up and handed it to the owner.

Though he didn't bat an eye at the total he heard Theo inhale sharply.

Theo tried desperately to take the bags from Bucky's hands he shook his head, instead he gave her his car keys and asked her to get the door.

"I'll get Martha to wash all your new clothes for you when she's back tomorrow" Bucky says as he put the bags down in the foyer.

"I-I can do it"

"Nope don't worry, would you like me to order you some food?"

"Why?"

"Aren't you hungry?"

"No why are you doing this?"

"I'm not following..."

"Why are you being nice to me? I told you yesterday that l asked my father to let us divorce"

"I sadly remember that, can I ask why you did it?"

"So you can marry one of my father's daughters"

"I already married one"

"No you married his bastard"

Furrowing his eyebrows he sighed, he knew she was the product of her father's affair but truthfully it didn't matter to him. Bucky truly believed he could find happiness with Theo if only given the chance. Turning his back to her he pinched the bridge of his nose trying to contain the emotions swirling around his heart "I don't care about that Theo"

She stands there surveying his movements when she remembered Eliza's words from the day before she swallowed thickly as her stomach churned at what she was about to do.

"Well y-you might change your mind now" she whispers just loud enough for him to hear.

"Wha-Jesus Christ-Theo-what... wha-" his stomach drops along with his heart when he turns around and sees Theo standing before him in only her bra and underwear.

The angry scars that are on her stomach makes his nose flare in anger, the huge scar that Wanda had mentioned was bigger than he thought. The small circled scars Bucky knew for a fact were from cigarette burns.

"Let's have sex" she whispers once again, the urge to cover herself up and run away itches her insides.

"N-n-no put your clothes back on"

"It's okay I just have to lay right here and take it sir, don't worry about hurting me the others don't" the last three words were barely above a whisper, slightly hoping he didn't hear her confession but sadly he had.

"Put your clothes back on" he repeated however this time in more of a demanding tone.

"Now that you've seen the filth that is my body you can now ask my father to divorce me, he'll say yes to you"

"Fuck sake Theo put your clothes back on!"

"It-it makes you sick doesn't it"

"Yes" he answers without missing a beat. Moving closer to her he bends down to pick her shirt up he hands it to her "But not for the reason you think, please sweetheart put your clothes back on and me and you are going to talk"

Feeling like the most stupidest of people thinking, wishing Bucky would of done what Eliza had told her how he would react. It confused her why he didn't either run away or dragged her out of his house.

"Are you dressed?" Bucky asks with his back to her.

"Ye-yes"

Turning back around his eyes found hers, he motioned for her to go and sit on the couch "I need you to be honest with me Theo, how did you get these scars?"

Hesitating for a few minutes Bucky sat patiently as she gathered her thoughts, as she opened her mouth to finally confess she slams her lips shut as a loud ringing coming from Bucky's phone pierces through the silence.

"God sake, give me a second sweetheart. Hello?"

She couldn't hear what was being said on the other end of the line but the way Bucky's face dropped and paled she knew it wasn't good.

"We'll be right there." Standing up he handed her Wanda's coat that she had let her borrow the day earlier before putting his on.

"We need to go, come on" his voice wobbled enough to let her know it was serious and for her to comply.

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Tags: @sapphirebarnes @bellabarnes1378 @unaxv @skulliecadaver-blog @mrsnikstan @sebastians-love

[fanficonly]

Wenclair x Reader -

What are you?- Part 10

Okay so yeah I have been gone... For like ... A long time... Sorry! I cannot give just one reason life has just been a lot to put it lightly. I am getting back into my writing and forgot how much I love it and fanfiction and just Wenclair in general. So I hope this chapter is good enough to move this story along and that some, if any, of you are still interested in it then I will be continuing so for now this is part 10 and more will be happening soon.

Enjoy reading 😋

"You were spying on me?!" You practically yell. Wednesday makes no attempt to explain herself but Enid fumbles over her words stepping towards you prompting you to step back instinctively

"I'm sorry. We're sorry. It was an accident!" She shouts back in defense, not aggressively but more panicked and worried as she dreaded your reaction.

"I- WHAT- This is too weird I-" you clutch the shirt in your hands, letting the fabric crease between your tensed knuckles as you start towards the door again.

"Y/N I have a proposition" Wednesday speaks abruptly, as if snapping out of thought, and the brazen tone she uses stops you from going any further. What could she possibly say that would help the situation right now? No wonder they are suspicious of you, making that phone call didn't make it any better and they had literally creeped on you from a closet! How the hell are you suppose to just let this go?

"A proposition? You spied on me while I was- you know that's not cool guys how did you even get there how did I not notice you?" Your voice trails off as you remember the last hour of time you spent in your room unaware of the prying eyes.

"We are incredibly skilled in being conspicuous" Wednesday says this with a hint of pride seeping out from the cracks of her blunt tone.

"Clearly" you sigh shaking your head a little in disbelief. I mean you didn't want to admit that it didn't completely freak you out because this is something that any normal person should have this reaction too... So you just continue with this course of action.

"We weren't trying to be conspicuous though, we didn't plan it!" Enid looks at Wednesday in matched disbelief. Honestly the thrill the Addams girl gets from stalking someone is a tad worrying but to brag about it like it was some master plan ...God she couldn't believe her girlfriend sometimes.

"Anyway as I was saying, I suggest we all move on from this" she puts it out there and for a split second you almost don't see the gravity of the situation and think the way she talks about it really minimises how you should feel.

Even Enid matches your expression giving Wednesday a puzzled look. How could you just forget about this? What could she possibly say that could stop the pure anger that was subtly building within you now?

Your thoughts are interrupted by the monotones of Wednesday

"We have apologised for spying on you" she says "You have apologised for hurting Enid" again you look away in shame, did she have to keep bringing that up like damn.

Wednesday continued as you drag your mind back the conversation at hand "I suggest we call it even and in return you will forgive us and I will halt all plans to end your life unexpectedly because of your crimes against my girlfriend" Wednesday makes a good point. Maybe this way you could start fresh almost. Yes it was wrong of them but at the same time it was wrong of you to nearly kill Enid on your first day. Seems like a good trade off

"Wow. That... That actually makes sense" you blink in surprise not expecting such a godsend and you smile lightly, recounting everything in your head. Weirdly enough, if you could all just forget about both incidents then maybe you could start building a foundation for friendship or at the very least have no qualms with eachother and not spend the rest of your days looking over your shoulders. You think you can do it.

Wednesday side eyes Enid, and smirks slightly at the puppy dog eyes she was giving her, clearly the wolf enjoys a little bit of violence in her honour. You could tell Enid was trying to contain herself from jumping her girlfriend's bones at the thought of her gerring all protective.

"Of course it makes sense I am a completely competent person with a proven track record for peacemaking" Wednesday let her face rise in another light smirk and Enid giggles. Did she just make .. a joke? Or is she serious?

You look at her quizzically

"Ok perhaps not the peacekeeping but that is what my Enid is for" you slightly giggle to yourself when Wednesday pets the werewolfs head affectionately causing her to raise her shoulders in glee, letting her eyes flutter shut at the touch of her mate.

The way she says "My Enid" and delicately trails her eyes lovingly towards her makes your heart melt and you nod

"Okay fine ..." You hold one hand out while the other still grips your shirt intensely " Truce." Quickly shaking hands with Enid, settling your emotions through meditation and earning a nod from Wednesday indicating she would decline your physical contact, you return to a less nervous state.

"Now... Can Wednesday still ... You know" Enid points to the surgical instruments and you sigh. Honestly at this point you have no choice you cant just leave so instead you say

"Yes thank you" and stand there awaiting instructions again.

"Lay on the bed" Enid motions for you to move, her tone was not demanding more a soft suggestion and you do as you're told.

You smile and lay face down, accepting the pillow Wednesday silently hands you and beginning to get more comfortable.

"How is your pain tolerance?" Wednesday asks as you hear the clatter of tools behind you. The sound urges you to twist your head around, curious as to what she was doing.

"Ummm fairly used to it" you say turning away again.

"Good" Wednesday says and you swear you can just tell she has some kind of sinister smirk covering her features.

"No not good why? Do you get into a lot of fights?" Enid asks casually pulling up a chair to the end of the bed to keep you company as Wednesday prepares her tools.

"Yeah you could say that" you let out a nervous laugh propping your head up with your hands placed under your chin for stability. It really baffles you how easy it was to get back to ... Well yeah normal is the right word you guess.

Enid smiles comforting you and says "Brace yourself" looking behind you apologetically.

"Huh?" You furrow your brow in confusion until "Fuck!" The word leaves your lips harshly as you grip the edge of the mattress in an attempt to ignore the pain you just felt as Wednesday jabs what feels like a burning rod into your scarred body.

words. And as you trail your eyes towards Enid your heart breaks for a second time at her pained expression. She must have felt terrible for bringing it up. You can't stand to see her like this.

"It's okay" you practically vomit out the words harshly trying to stop the tears that threatened Enid's eyes from falling "I- well I grew up with other children around me but no they weren't my siblings". Your mind drifts off thinking about the programme. Other children just like you nothing but numbers in rooms, day after day experiments, fighting and abuse being the core memories of your childhood. .

"So like a group home?" Enid asks and you twitch a little as Wednesday continues her handy work

"God you ask a lot of questions" you opt to deflect that one because how do you describe the home ...house... Building...you were raised in.

The tragic tales of Godmother forcing you all to enhance and control your abilities by using eachother as test dummies and the horrid realisation that this is your life forever. Forever until nevermore that is. Thank god for Nevermore. .

"How else are we suppose to get to know you" Enid smiles. She really did just want to get to know you? There was something so wholesome about her demeanor but again that little voice in your head remained skeptical so you ask "Why do you want to get to know me?" You move to prop you chin up with your hands further, elbows resting on the pillow to see more of the werewolf girl.

"So we can be friends silly" Enid pats your head similar to how Wednesday had petted her earlier and pairs it with a little "Oop" noise which was by far the cutest sound ever to leave the lips of a human.

"You guys want to be my friend?" You ask and almost smack yourself silly for how desperate and weak you sounded.

"Enid does,I prefer the term ally" Wednesday speaks from behind you once again and you crane your neck to give her a half smile in response. She barely changes her face instead running anesthetic around your wound after shooting you a quick look.

"Sure but I am a very private person" you warn hoping this might urge them to lighten up on the police style questioning you were being subjected to.

"So was Wednesday when we first met, now I know all her dirty little secrets" Enid smiles widely again and giggles menacingly.

"Yeah but she's your girlfriend that's different" you raise your eyebrows and smirk.

"I prefer the term soulmate" Wednesday chimes in preparing the hot iron for the third hole on your back.

"Soooo why did you come to Nevermore?" She continues with her "Getting to know you" plan and you bury your face in the pillow as Wednesday cauterizes your third wound. You also note that that's not what she wants to ask you. She wants to ask what you are? What you did? What happened earlier? But here she is luring you into a false sense of security. Either that or she actually planned to stick to the deal of forgiving and forgetting the events. When you don't say anything Enid looks at Wednesday. .

It's still hard to focus with the light grazes of cold fingertips trailing down your back. As Enid stops questioning you your mind races as you become more aware of the Seers hands touching your body.

Luckily you have something else to focus your attention on and instead you're watching Enid again stare at Wednesday. It's as if they are reading each others minds or something but you calm down a little trying to pay attention to the beautiful blonde Infront of you instead of the stunning darker haired girl touching your back.

Stop it. Settle your emotions. Breathing exercises. You close your eyes. God these girls really bought out all these confusing feelings and it was not good for your... Gift .

Suddenly Wednesday presses into your cut and you immediately screech out a noise you have never heard yourself emit before,burying your face into the pillow as Enid reaches for you in concern

"My apologies" she murmurs as you bite into the pillow then your breath hitches in your throat as you feel her fingers glide up your back slowly ... This doesn't feel like she's stitching you up and you panic, what is she doing, that feels .... That's ...

""What are you-" you begin to ask but without warning she presses her full palm onto the uncut part of your upper back once again. .

The rush of feelings electrify your body, every muscle, every bone in your body seizes up and your head whips back as you feel yourself uncontrollable roll off of the bed. A swirl of golden dust surrounds the two of you ... It's happening again but this time it hurts like really hurts ... What is happening?! .

And then you see it.

Flashes. Images, drilling into your head with a migraine inducing force.

A vision of sorts rushes through your brain, partially distorted and yet painfully clear.

It's you

It's Wednesday, Enid and You. All 3 of you cuddled on a bed together. You look happy ... You look like ... You're in... Then suddenly nothing.

Darkness.

Abyss.

...

Y/N!!!" The loud whisper rings in your ears "Y/N can you hear me?" The voice is drowned out, but your vision starts to return, the blurry figures of what you know to be Wednesday and Enid looming over you

"I told you not do it yet!" You hear Enid's voice, muffling but it's. almost like static is penetrating your ears.

"I don't know what happened Cara Mia this doesn't make sense, she should not have felt anything" the sultry tone of Wednesday voice is clearer as your ears regain their ability to hear coherently

"Y/N?" The voice buzzes again

"Urrrgh" you groan, your vision finally focussing and feeling returning your limbs, as you notice you are now situated on the cold wooden floor of their dorm room.

Ouch.

Continuing to squint and widen your eyes in an attempt to sort the feelings and thoughts that accompanied the impending realisation of what had just happened

And then...

You sit up suddenly connecting the dots, the head rush it was accompanied by, threatening to bring up yesterday's dinner. Wednesday is a Seer! And you stupidly let your guard down and piggybacked on a vision she obviously induced when she pressed onto your back.

Fuck.

[agua-cat]

RELIC HOLDERS - APHMAU

Please note this is a rewritten version of Minecraft Diaries, what is here is not completely canon to the universe and I have taken various creative liberties to create what I think is a satisfactory story. Some of these choices for the relic holders are NOT forever, as some relics get passed onto other people. This list, however, is pretty definitive.

I asked my friends if I should write starting from Aphmau or Laurence. They all chose Aphmau and I probably have the least amount of lore for her so let's see what we can crack out.

Let us Begin

There are many words to describe the lady of Phoenix Drop, though I thing a perfect one is ''Enigma''. From the very beginning, Aphmau was never normal. She was self-aware of the world she resided in to a unique degree, she could make different choices and unravel a story with her at its core.

Who she was had never truly been queried. She knew her name was Aphmau and she knew she had a village to look after. Shortly after the confrontation in the Irene Dimension with Zane, Aphmau found herself back in her old house. Her sons grown and her flame of motivation threatening to flicker out.

It was lucky then that day, Hyria came to visit. Lucinda's mother had gotten worried since some news about Laurence had broken out, and for some reason her daughter always seemed enamoured with him. During her visit, however, guilt burdened her every time she set her eyes on Aphmau's house. She had to tell Aphmau.

So, Aphmau knows that she is Irene. To what extent she believes it, she's not sure. Goddesses are supposed to be all powerful, all knowing. Even when Hyria comforts her that she was supposed to forget- the answer seems too easy. Too convenient. Aphmau wants to strive for answers beyond the blanket layer of information she was given.

Beginning the start of Season 2 for our rewrite is when markings begin to decorate Aphmau's skin. Beautiful glowing marks that define her easily; this woman is not human. She is not even mortal. Despite this, her closest friends are not put off by her change of appearance and keep her close.

Garroth brings her with him when the threat of Zane becomes evermore present once more. Zane, who now has gotten Laurence on his side. Laurence; with Shad's relic.

Every time Aphmau thinks of Shad- or Laurence- her heart pulses. She swears she can feel an echoing voice in her head. Something which tries to guide her, something with a lot more bloodlust than she could ever dream to have. Something Divine.

Travis offers her to recreate the Divine Warriors- to right the wrongs the 6 legends had before them in communication and to make something bigger and better than the burden that had been set upon their shoulders. Since she agreed, her divinity stopped hiding itself so much.

Piercing white pupils glow within her Irises. Perhaps one day they will be a pure white like the Matrons.

Becoming Irene is something that scares Aphmau. She doesn't want to be someone she seemed so keen to run away from the past. Aphmau wants to try again- this time, correctly.

~~~

HEYY SO. I HOPE THIS WAS GOOD. I'll probably post some more stuff about Aphmau as I go- I know right now as it goes this is all very ominous and a lot of information though!

I'm really sorry if the timeline doesn't 100% add up! A lot of my information is from nostalgia, memory and wiki's. I wish I had the time to rewatch MCD ;;

Consider this rewrite as of current from past the Irene Dimension fight. There will be information and rewrites from before that period that I'm working for but you know me! I like to start in the ocean and work my way back to the creek.

Thank you for reading. Your reblogs have made my day and give me so much more confidence in sharing something I've been passionate and yet nervous about. <3 Let me know if you need any clarification.

P.S. Whilst I am happy to take criticism or discuss this in further detail, that may be best for DMs! My DMs are ALWAYS open, and I promise I'm friendly :)

[howi99]

A story of a Knight and a Yokai (part 6)

RK: *walking next to Rumia, yawning* Gosh, What a long day that was.

Rumia: *sigh* You know, i was expecting you to be a lot more careful. You just ran in there without a plan, why?

RK: *shrug* I don't know. Maybe i just wanted to vent a bit? I knew it wasn't a yokai so i just figured whatever it was couldn't be as dangerous as the things you told me some yokai can do.

Rumia: *point at the blood on his armor which is slowly turning into light particles* And what's up with that?

RK: Oh, it's turning back into aura.

Rumia: ... Can you elaborate?

RK: *pensive* Well... My blood is a part of me. And as i told you, my body is being kept from death with only my aura. So what you see is basically aura.

Rumia: So it's not real?

RK: Yes and no? *Sigh* My aura is fused with every single part of my body, including blood. The only exceptions are my hair and my nails. So when i bleed, it's "real" blood but its essence stays within me. Meaning you can see the blood and touch it, but if you tried to eat it, you'd have no taste nor nourishment from it. Since it will dissolve and come back to me.

Rumia: What about the smell? I can't smell it either.

RK: *shrug* It's the first thing to disappear... *Chuckle* Funnily enough, the fighting ground must be beautiful to look at, with all the light particles that would be floating in the air.

Rumia: *nod* I see...

*both of them continue marching a bit in silence*

RK:...

Rumia: ... You said a grimm was in the forest?

RK: *snapping his fingers* I knew i forgot something! *Putting his plastron back into his bag* It was a grimm alright. Black creature made of pure malice and all that. And i still have no idea how it got here.

Rumia: Yukari, the Yokai you were supposed to meet today mind you, told us that a bunch of weird things appeared at the same time you and Juniper did.

RK: Is that so?... But why?

Rumia: *scoff* You think i know? I'm the darkness yokai, not the dimensional rift yokai. Besides, even she doesn't know what happened or why.

RK: Hm... Maybe it's like a bridge? I did voyage in a place between dimensions once, before falling into the ever after. So this world and my world AND the ever after could be connected. Doesn't explain the why, but it explains how that thing came here.

Rumia: Uh... We should probably tell her about that then. Your world seems... Dangerous.

RK: Remnant is a dead world, yes. *Chuckle* Really, it's a miracle that there are people left. At least in the ever after, the "bad guys" all had consciousness. You can reason with a dragon and the Jabberwalker is not that strong. Immortal, but weak. *Shake his head* The Grimm's are just like cockroaches. Always more and more.

Rumia: *pensive* ... I wonder if i could control them. They are made of darkness so maybe...

RK: There's already a witch controlling them. The Salem gal i told you about. You might have to fight for control over them.

Rumia: *thumb on her chest, proud look on her face* I am powerful, i can beat her!

RK: ... She's immortal. Even more than me.

Rumia: Hm... *Stomach grumble* Uh... *Slight blush* Sorry.

RK: ... You are the darkness yokai, maybe you can eat the Grimms?

Rumia: You think so?

RK: *shrug* They are the manifestation of the God of Darkness power. They dissolve quickly, but since you ARE the manifestation of Darkness, you could probably absorb them... You'd stop starving to death.

Rumia: *looking at the knight, surprised* H-how did you-?

RK: *cracking his neck* You keep eating yet your stomach still starve. What you need is the darkness inside every man and woman. You don't "eat" people, you eat what's inside them. And grimms? *Chuckle* Grimms are entirely made of that stuff.

Rumia: ... You think that would work?

RK: *shrug* What do i know? I'm crazy, remember? And it IS a crazy idea. But it's worth a shot, right?

Rumia: ... *Nod* Yeah. You might be right.

RK: At least it should be easy to find them, they are drawn to negativity. So they will probably gather and try attacking the human village.

Rumia: I... Kinda can't get near the village for obvious reasons.

RK: *roll his eyes* I know that, but we could patrol the periphery. It's not as if they are going to run into the loving embrace of a damn beowolf.

Rumia: You'd be surprised.

RK: ... Hm... You're right, i knew a guy who wanted to make the Grimms his. Just gonna hope there's no mad scientist this time.

[rmoonstoner]

18+ content. You have been warned!

Okay, so, the top 3 fics I am working on at the moment:

***

# 1 - Cream & Sugar - Complete LINK

One shot, currently sitting at 12k words. Story part done, now I need to add more nasty to it. Orgasm denial and overstimulation for Peter. P in v sex, cream pie, Peter is tied to a lawn chair and you have your way with him, breeding kink, he begs a lot, blah blah blah.

Sub!Spider-Man Noir x Dom!spider!fem!reader (I think it's soft Dom, but you decide.)

***

# 2 - Just A Taste - Part 2

Second part of Just A Taste. Peter takes you on a simple date. Yes. More sex. I was thinking public sex, maybe they get caught by someone? I dunno. Haven't decided. Story part is done, just whipping up the nasty. More creampie monster fuckery.

SPIDER-Man/Man-Spider Peter Parker x Sorceress!fem!reader

***

# 3 - Poisoned Empanadas - Chapters 5 - 10

So much more story. Real people sex! You get nothing more out of me.

Spider-Man 2099 Miguel O'Hara x fem!spider!reader

***

Runner ups:

***

# 4 - No name as of yet, might be chaptered, might not be

Tiny bit of story, monster fucker sex with a magic man that looks like a demonic tentacle demon. Much nasty.

Eldritch Horror/Watcher/Supreme Doctor Stephen Strange x Watcher's Assistant!fem!reader

***

# 5 - Decent into Madness

This is pure filth and crack for me. Written by me, for me, and I am sharing for others to enjoy. I am counting this as a size kink, breeding kink, monster fucker (because it's MOTHER FUCKING BEAST FROM THE X-MEN! I DON'T DO REGULAR HUMAN HANK, SORRY.) and it's nasty.

Dark Beast x Mutant!fem!reader

***

I am also working on other various fics and projects and requests, but they aren't as high up on my priority list at the moment. If have seen some requests, don't worry, I haven't forgotten. My muse to write is saying do these now.

❤️ 💙

[weemssapphic]

Lipstick Stains - Pt. 4

previous chapter | next chapter | series page

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

summary: Outreach Day is a verifiable disaster - our dear reader is ready to catch Larissa if she falls, and Larissa is falling alright - for reader, that is.

words: ~4k | ao3 link in title

chapter-specific warnings: none really, mostly fluff A/N: I am so sorry that it took so long to update this fic! I had to figure out where I was going with this and plot out the next chapters, and then I was very unhappy with this chapter for a very long time so I have been kind of just sitting on it. This one isn't my Finest work, however, I have done so many editing passes that I decided to just post it. Gotta get the story moving along, you know :')

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

A warmth was quickly rising to your cheeks as Larissa spoke.

“Good,” you murmured, working to control your blush. “Because I really like you, Larissa.” Larissa’s eyes flooded with affection and you felt your breath hitch in your chest as she brought her fingertips up to stroke your jaw.

“My sweet one…” She sighed heavily. “If I don’t go now I’m afraid I’ll never leave.” She pulled away with an apologetic smile and rose to her feet. “Perhaps I can steal you away after the ceremony?”

“Yes,” you replied a little too fast, and you felt your fading blush spread once again as Larissa let out a chuckle. 

Squeezing your shoulder, the tall brunette disappeared towards the restrooms at the back of the Weathervane. A few moments later Larissa, back in her natural form, passed by you on her way to the exit, gloved fingertips grazing along the edge of the table you were seated at as a silent form of acknowledgement.

You finished the rest of your hot chocolate slowly, savoring the last drops whilst staring idly out the window and watching a group of people put the finishing touches on what you assumed to be the set-up for the ceremony. After a while, you could see Larissa come into view, deep in conversation with a man you’d never seen before - likely the mayor of Jericho.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there, watching, but when the café had begun to clear out and Nevermore students and townspeople alike began to gather in the town square, you thought it must be nearly time for the ceremony and slipped out of your booth, heading towards the commotion.

The sun was shining as you settled in the back row of the risers that were set up, not wanting to intrude or be a distraction as Larissa attended to her professional duties. You twisted your hands in your lap, excited yet simultaneously nervous to see Larissa in her element.

A fountain topped with a bronze statue of Joseph Crackstone stood at the center of the town square. In front of that stood a small podium, to the right the Jericho High School marching band was settling into their seats. A young girl in a black and gray striped blazer sat off to the side with a cello between her knees. You assumed this was Larissa's student whom she had mentioned, though you thought it odd that her uniform was a completely different color from the rest of her class’.

A hush fell over the crowd as the mayor stepped up to the podium, with Larissa standing beside him - or, to be more precise, standing on the pavement beside him. You could barely contain your smirk when you noticed that, even like this, the mayor barely reached her towering height.

Mayor Walker began to address the crowd, and you shared a sweet, stolen glance with the object of your affections. Oh, how beautiful she looked, completely in her element, smiling brightly for the crowd and the camera. You couldn’t help how absolutely smitten you felt as you drank in her form, admiring the elegance and grace with which she presented herself.

The ceremony, however, soon turned into a complete disaster. Things had quickly taken a turn for the worse when the fountain had exploded with a loud crack, devolving the little town of Jericho into pure chaos. You’d quickly left the risers in search of cover, choosing to crouch behind a parked car as you searched the chaos for Larissa. When you finally caught sight of her, you could practically feel the white-hot anger radiating off her in waves as she glared at her student playing a frenzied cello piece without a care in the world.

As much as you wanted to reach out, to run over to her and soothe her, you could sense by her fixed gaze that now was not the time. At least, it seemed, she wasn’t physically injured. At that moment, Larissa whirled around and your gazes met. You could see the rage written plainly on her face, though it seemed she was working hard to control it as she stared back at you, nostrils flaring.

You pulled your phone out of your back pocket and pointed to it before dropping your gaze and sending Larissa a text.

Y/N: Are you alright???

Larissa: Physically, yes. Are you?

Y/N: Yeah I’m fine. 

Y/N: I’m going to catch a ride with Robin… 

Y/N: Please text me if you need anything! I’ll talk to you later? :)

You looked up to find Larissa giving you a nod, her lips turning up at the corners. It wasn’t exactly a smile, honestly her expression still bordered on murderous, but it seemed to be a small sign of her appreciation of your concern for her.

~~~

You spent the rest of the afternoon flipping idly through your art history textbook under the pretext of studying, but your mind kept wandering back to Larissa, worry for her well-being clouding your thoughts. What would she be doing right now? Had she had a chance to breathe yet? Was she able to take a break from dealing with the chaos that had ensued?

Y/N: I hope everything is alright <3 thinking of you!

You worried your bottom lip between your teeth as your fingers hovered over the ‘send’ button. You didn’t want to come off as needy. But then again, hadn’t Larissa said earlier at the Weathervane that it was okay to text her? 

Fuck it. 

Send.

You didn’t hear back from her in the following hours. Not as you warmed up leftovers for dinner, not as you curled up on the couch next to Cassandra to watch The Devil Wears Prada, not as you brushed your teeth and changed into your pajamas.

10:56 pm. Flicking off the lights, you snuggled into bed and pulled up the covers, the light from your phone screen illuminating your face as you scrolled through Instagram. 

A text popping up at the top of the screen made your heart skip a beat.

Larissa: Are you home?

Y/N: Yeah, why? Is everything okay?

Each minute that passed without a reply felt like a lifetime, your stomach dropping further and further with the radio silence. You tried to distract yourself with mindless scrolling but nothing piqued your interest - your thoughts were with Larissa, wondering what she could have meant. 

20 minutes later, you finally received a reply and relief flooded your body. Your heart began to pound as you read the text, excitement coursing through your veins.

Larissa: Can you come downstairs?

Was Larissa here? You threw back the covers and stumbled out of bed, not bothering to get changed as you raced out of your apartment, grabbing your keys on the way out and nearly tripping down the steps as you rushed towards the parking lot.

There she was, much like before your first date, leaning against her parked car. From what you could make out in the dark, she was still wearing the plaid dress and gray coat she’d been wearing during the Outreach Day event. 

“Larissa,” you called out, thoroughly out of breath as you jogged towards her. Her head snapped up and she pushed herself off the car. You stopped in front of her, panting, and she leaned down and crashed her lips to yours in a bruising kiss. 

“God, I’ve wanted to do that all day,” she murmured against your lips. 

You deepened the kiss, licking into her mouth and feeling her sigh as her hands came to rest on your hips, squeezing possessively. 

When you pulled away, her breathing was ragged and her chest heaving. You looked up at her to search her face - she looked immaculate as always, but there was a clear exhaustion behind her eyes that you didn’t miss.

“I had to see that you were alright.” Larissa spoke softly.

“Yeah, I’m fine. How are you doing?” You wrapped your arms around her, rubbing soothing circles on her back.

Larissa sighed, her fingers playing with a loose wave behind your ear.

“Today was a disaster,” she mumbled. “Everyone is absolutely furious… as they should be. I’ve been dealing with angry phone calls and emails all day.”

“Do you know what happened?”

“I have my suspicions. And the fact that it may be the fault of a student of mine doesn’t bode well for Nevermore.” She sighed, no real bite behind her words anymore. Her eyes fluttered shut momentarily, her face falling in defeat.

“Let me guess, that girl with the braids who looked absolutely thrilled to be there?” you teased.

Larissa snorted. “That would be the one.”

“I’m sorry about that...”

“Don’t be. I wanted to thank you for coming today, it made me very happy - I mean before everything fell apart.” A sad smile crossed Larissa’s face and it made your heart sink in your chest - you resolved you would do anything to never see her so upset again. “You looked very beautiful at the ceremony,” you said softly. “You look very beautiful,” you amended.

“Sweet girl.” Larissa’s gloved hand cupped your cheek and you leaned into her touch. “May I hug you?”

You nodded and were immediately pulled into a bone-crushing hug as Larissa pressed you tightly against her body. She buried her nose in your hair, inhaling deeply. You didn’t dare move a muscle, for fear of ruining the moment.

It wasn’t until a chill caused you to shiver that Larissa pulled back to look you up and down, taking in the thin fabric of your pajamas.

“Oh, darling,” she murmured before pulling you close again, rubbing her hands up and down your biceps in an attempt to warm you. “You’ll get sick if you stay out here much longer.”

You shrugged, burying your head under her chin. “You said to come downstairs… I wanted to see you.”

“I still have some things to take care of,” Larissa sighed as her hands found your head, fingers threading themselves through your hair and pushing you into her, as if trying to weld your bodies into one.

“Tonight? But it’s late.”

“I know. But this situation won’t fix itself.”

Larissa loosened her grip and you stepped back slightly, searching her face with a hint of a smug smirk on your own. “So you came all this way just to see me?”

Even in the dim light of the parking lot, you could swear you saw Larissa’s cheeks go pink. “I had to see for myself that you were alright... Is that okay?”

“That is more than okay, Rissa. I just thought you were ‘exceptionally bad’ at this?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

Larissa giggled, her lips curling into a shy smile. “Doesn’t mean I can’t try,” she murmured playfully, leaning down to capture your lips in a languid kiss.

“Can I visit you tomorrow?” you whispered against her lips, your heart rate spiking as you waited for Larissa’s reply - nervous she would be too busy and say no.

“I would love that,” she whispered back.

~~~

It was raining when you pulled into a visitor’s spot at Nevermore the following day. You jogged up to the imposing building, shielding the cupcakes you had bought for Larissa from the rain, which had nearly soaked you to the bone in the brief time you’d been outside.

You navigated the halls of Nevermore by memory from the night you’d spent with Larissa, though you ended up taking a wrong turn somewhere (maybe you should’ve paid more attention, rather than watching Larissa the whole time she’d led you to her quarters) - you ended up having to ask a student for help. 

The hyper young blonde looked you eagerly up and down, eyes lingering a little too long on the cupcakes you were holding before agreeing chirpily and with a bright smile to walk you there.

The girl left you in front of the doors to Larissa’s office, adorned with a shiny gold plaque stating “PRINCIPAL WEEMS”, but not before shooting you another curious gaze that made you a bit nervous. You knocked on the door, waiting as you heard the faint click of heels against hardwood floors, then the creaking of the door as Larissa came into view. 

A bright smile lit up her face at the sight of you, morphing quickly into concern as she took in your disheveled appearance, absolutely soaked from the rain - hair sticking to the side of your face, sweater clinging messily to your body.

“Oh, darling, come in.” Concern laced her voice as she ushered you into her office. You heard the click of the lock as the door closed behind you.

“I b-brought you c-cupcakes,” you stated, teeth clattering from the cold seeping into your bones the longer you stood there in your wet clothes. You thrust your hands out in offering. “Y-you said you h-have a s-sweet tooth.”

Larissa looked between you and the cupcakes for a moment, eyes wide - you wondered if you’d overstepped, or if she was trying to find a way to tell you she hated cupcakes, but then she laughed - a full, belly laugh - and your heart soared.

“Thank you.” She grinned down at you and took the box from your hands, using her other hand to lace her fingers between yours and dragging you to the loveseat in front of the roaring fireplace. “Please, sit, let’s get you warmed up. I’ll be right back, love,” she cooed, pressing a kiss to your forehead before disappearing into her quarters. She returned moments later with a fluffy towel and some clothes.

“May I help you?” She looked almost shy - the idea of Larissa Weems being shy about anything made you giggle as butterflies erupted behind your navel.

“Of c-course.” You grinned up at her as she helped you remove your sweater and your t-shirt, then waited for you to kick off your shoes and peel off your jeans, leaving you in only your underwear. She dried off the damp bits of skin with the towel, careful to rub gently, lingering for a moment longer over your chest before blushing and dragging the towel across your stomach. 

Once dry you slipped into the clothes she’d brought you - a Nevermore Academy class of ‘91 shirt and a pair of black sweatpants, both items of clothing hanging awkwardly off your smaller frame.

You noticed the way her eyes darkened as she stepped back to regard you, her gaze roaming almost hungrily over your body. 

“See something you like?” you teased as you scrunched your wet hair with the towel. Larissa’s cheeks went pink, clearly flustered as she dropped her gaze to the floor, fidgeting in place.

You took a step towards her and wrapped your arm around her waist. You could hear her breath hitch at the contact and chose not to comment further, instead asking if you could kiss her. Larissa responded by dipping her head and pressing her lips to yours, hesitantly at first then more confidently, pushing her tongue into your mouth with little kitten licks that drew a whimper from your throat.

She broke the kiss and smiled down at you, brushing a wet curl off your cheek and tucking it behind your ear. “Will you sit with me for a while? I could use the break from work.”

You nodded fervently and settled back on the loveseat. Larissa sat next to you, pausing for a moment before scooting closer until your thighs pressed together. 

~~~

Larissa had nearly jolted out of her armchair when she’d heard your knock. After a near all-nighter (dragging herself reluctantly to bed at 4 am for 3 fitful hours of sleep) filled with damage control for Wednesday’s little stunt, coupled with a Sunday morning of responding to the emails she’d neglected the previous day, she was more than ready for a break. 

Now you were sitting on her sofa, in her clothes - the thought filled her with a lustful sort of possessiveness that she almost felt ashamed of. You were so tantalizingly unaware of your own appeal, of how much Larissa desired you. Not just sexually, though she did find herself at random moments missing your touch, craving the taste of you, yearning to feel herself inside of you again - but wholly. She longed every day to hear your voice, to see your bright smile as the first thing she woke up to in the morning, to get to know every part of you. She sometimes wondered if she wanted too much from you.

She tried not to get lost in her own thoughts and focus instead on your conversation.

“Cupcake?” you said brightly, reaching for the box of sweets, and Larissa couldn’t help the tinkering laugh that she let out at your childlike joy as a joyfulness of her own bubbled up within her, warming her from the inside out. She felt she could cry that you’d remembered her mention of her sweet tooth and had gone to the trouble of bringing her something - it had been far too long since anyone had done something so simple and kind for her without wanting anything in return, and her heart swelled.

She tried not to sound too eager when she said yes, though from your giggle she realized she hadn’t been all too successful. You wrapped your fingers delicately around one of the cupcakes - chocolate, with chocolate frosting - and brought it up to her mouth. Rather than taking it between her own fingers, Larissa leaned forward, sinking her teeth into the little cake and taking a large bite, feeling the frosting graze the tip of her nose.

Her stomach fluttered at your laugh, bringing a wide grin to her face as you reached out and swiped your thumb across her nose, collecting the stray frosting then bringing the digit to your mouth and wrapping your lips around it. Heat pooled in her core at the groan you let out, her eyes glued to your mouth as you sucked the frosting off your thumb.

Larissa couldn’t help herself - she closed the distance between the two of you, pressing her lips to yours and almost immediately deepening the kiss as she allowed her hands to rest on your thighs. She allowed herself to get lost in her senses - the taste of frosting on your tongue, the feeling of her soft sweatpants underneath her hands, the smell of your rain-dampened hair, the fluttering in her tummy. Her hands traveled up your thighs, getting closer and closer to your core. 

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” you murmured - your breath tickled her lips, sending a shiver down her spine. Larissa pulled back in confusion, her brows knitting together as she searched your face. Then she yawned - she couldn’t hold it back any longer - and flushed as she realized exactly what you meant. 

“Told you,” you teased. Larissa felt her cheeks heat as you smirked at her. “How about we get you to bed?”

Larissa was ready to protest - she had been planning another all-nighter and really, she wasn’t that tired. But then she yawned again and found herself agreeing - “only if you stay the night.” She smiled, but the smile hid her nerves - she was worried she’d asked too much. 

“Okay.” You smiled back, brightly, and Larissa’s breath hitched in her chest. 

She stopped by her desk to switch off the lamp and close her laptop - guilt churned in her stomach when she saw all the emails waiting for her, but then she looked at the time - it was late and she was tired. Perhaps going to sleep and looking at them with a fresh mind in the morning wasn’t the worst idea. Then she looked up and saw you watching her with a smile, and she snapped the laptop shut.

Leading you to her quarters, she handed you an extra toothbrush and showed you where the towels were, then perched herself at her vanity to remove her makeup and take down her hair while she waited for you.

Larissa was almost ready for bed, having brushed her teeth over the kitchen sink, when she heard the shower turn off. The door to the bathroom creaked open and there you were, back in Larissa’s clothes, leaning against the doorframe and pulling a brush through your wet hair. 

“Thanks for letting me use your shower,” you said shyly.

Larissa chuckled. “You don’t have to thank me for that, darling. Come here.” She perched herself on the edge of the bed and patted the spot next to her, waiting for you to sit down. Once you did, she plucked the brush out of your hand and began to work her way through the tangles. The scent of her own shampoo in your hair - light and floral - filled her nostrils - it made her dizzy, and she found herself burying her nose in your hair, with one hand on your hip to ground herself.

Clearing her throat, she leaned back reluctantly and placed the brush on her nightstand. “There you are,” she murmured, tucking your hair behind your ear. “I’ll just get the lights.” She rose, flicking off the light in the bathroom and the overhead light for the bedroom, until the only source of light in the room was the glow of the lamp on her bedside table.

She climbed into bed next to you, settling under the covers and turning to face you. Her breathing stuttered - something about going to sleep with you, just sleep and nothing else, felt so intimate and domestic to her. Then you wrapped an arm around her waist and shimmied closer, and Larissa could rest her head against your chest. She could hear your heartbeat, steady and strong, and she felt her own restless pulse slowly calm to match yours.

~~~

You awoke in Larissa’s bed, but this time something was different - she was still there with you, her arm slung across your middle, a dead weight on your stomach. Turning your head to face her, you couldn’t help the sleepy smile that spread across your face as you drank in her appearance, lying on her stomach - disheveled locks of platinum hair falling across her face; the way her pale lips, devoid of her usual bold lipstick, hung open to let out deep breaths; the little puddle of drool collecting on her pillow that had you grinning like an idiot.

The urge to reach out and stroke Larissa’s cheek got stronger and stronger, until you twisted onto your side to face her, brushing a soft curl behind her ear and allowing your fingertips to linger on her cheekbone. Larissa let out a sigh, nuzzling her head into the pillow as she slowly blinked her eyes open. For a moment she looked disoriented, but then her eyes met yours and her lips curled into a smile.

“Good morning,” she murmured, her voice low and raspy with sleep - it might have been the sexiest thing you’d ever heard, and your entire body flooded with warmth. You pressed your lips to her own, relishing in the slow tenderness of the kiss. 

“Morning,” you whispered against her lips before kissing her again, deepening the kiss as you tugged her closer by the waist.

The sound of an alarm had Larissa pulling away and reaching over to her nightstand to grab her phone.

“What time is it?” you asked, playing with a stray curl that was draped over Larissa’s shoulder.

“7:30.” Larissa turned away from her phone screen to kiss you but you pulled back as dread began to course through your body. 

“Shit! I have class in half an hour!” You rolled out of bed, nearly tripping as the sheets tangled around your legs. “Are my clothes still in your office?”

“I think so.” Larissa pushed herself up and followed you into her office, attempting to shake off the feeling of disorientation as she watched you put on your jeans and sneakers.

“My sweater is still damp, is it okay if I just wear this?” you asked, tugging at the hem of the Nevermore Class of ‘91 t-shirt you were wearing. “I’ll give it back, I promise.”

“Of course, darling.” Larissa looked equal parts concerned and amused as you ran past her, giving her a quick peck on the cheek before rushing out of her office, yelling “thank you, I’ll call you later” over your shoulder.

x

tags for those who seemed interested: @rainbow-hedgehog @enchantressb @alder-saan @eveymay @amateurwritescm @brienneswife @principal-weems09 @messynessi @larissaoftarthweems @anti-bright-places

let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part or want me to remove the tags ✨

[clegfly]

Woo, it’s about time I made one of these… *cracks knuckles*

MORE ABOUT ME!!!!

HIIII!!!! My name is clegfly, or just cleg!!!! I’m an artist/ writer / professional paint drying critic/j. I’m just a silly person doing silly things, don’t mind me. I use they/them pronouns and I am aroace!!!

LIKES

BULLET POINTS BULLET POINTS BULLET POI

Pancakes. All day. All the time. Everywhere, anywhere. Pancakes

That goes for bacon too

JELLYYYYYYYYYY!!!!1!1!1!

Why are these all foods what else do I like uhhhh

Warm. And cosy bed. And fire. And all that stuff

OLD COMPUTER AESTHETIC!!!!!! N64!!! WINDOWS XP!!!! ALL THAT SHIT

Bugs in theory

PLANTS

MUSICAL THEATRE

Graphic novels

Video games… ough my beloveds

Books

Okay now this is too long

Oops

Sorry

JELLYFISH JELLYFISH JELLYFISH

The ocean full stop actually

In theory

CHINCHILLAS

Uh

Yapping

Analysis

IS BREA LIOM GAEILGE!!!1!1!2!!1

Law

History

Drama (as in like. Theatre)

DISLIKES

anything on my DNI >:((((

Bugs in practice

Sport

Exercise

I’m literally hero omori

Commitment

Stress

Internet drama

Anyone who gatekeeps like. Anything.

INTERESTS???

All day every day, baby.

MAINS

OMORI- main interest as apparent by one peek at my blog… The brainrot is immeasurable and everlasting. Send help. It’s been almost four years. I love this game, its characters, story, EVERYTHING so fucking much. I’m like a billion pounds in debt to it also. I will be homeless but at least I will have my big ass heromari collection.

PMMM/ Madoka Magica- my favourite show! Consisting purely of sparkles and sunshine!!!! Why are you crying??? I’m sure not!!!!

DDLC/ Doki Doki Literature Club- another favourite of mine!!! I see a well-written cast of characters I deeply relate to go through extreme horrific horror beyond any of their comprehensions and I’m SOLD!!!

Coraline- the horrors are all consuming, but at least it’s both a visual and extremely well-written treat!!!!

TADC/ the amazing digital circus- won’t lie, watched this show when the pilot dropped and LOVED it, but forgot about it after a while as it didn’t stick with me. Then episode three came out and I’m now reduced to a blubbering mess whose brain is now significantly comprised of two fictional chess pieces. What happened? I don’t know. Send even more help.

LITTLE GUYS THAT HURT MY BRAIN SOMETIMES

Petscop

Fnaf

BATIM/ bendy and the ink machine

BSD

Deltarune

Undertale

Hawaii: Part II

SUBJECT TO CHANGE BECAUSE IM PROBABLY FORGETTING LIKE 20 AND ALSO HAVE LIKE 20 STILL TO DISCOVER

HOBBIES?!2!2!

Ya!!!! :D

Art

The main thing I do on my silly little page!!

…in which the art is mostly unfinished doodles… but that’s okay!!!! We ball anyway

YOU CAN SEND THE CLEG REQUESTS!!!!! ALL DAY ANY DAY UNLESS I SAY OTHERWISE!!!! Do not expect premium quality though lmao. (And also nothing related to DNI. Shouldn’t have to say this but. Uh. Yeah)

You cannot yet commission the cleg :(

Writing

Currently on a writing hiatus and have been for a little while (5 MONRHS WHAT) but… i do!!!! That!!!! Aka I write fan fiction AGH

Mostly. Heromari stuff. Actually all heromari stuff. I think I have one fic that isn’t heromari and it’s one I co-authored I love them your honour…

Yeah

DNI

Bit of a bummer, but I gotta set my boundaries to keep the riff-raff out!! That being said, do NOT interact with my blog whatsoever if you:

Are a shotacon, lolicon, pedo, etc etc etc. (yucky. Yuck yuck yuck. Fuck off)

Are a proshipper

Are homophobic

Are transphobic

Are aphobic/ arophobic (why. Why are you even still here)

Queerphobic in general actually get OUT!!!!

Actively shit on any of my main interests. Like ACTIVELY go out of your way to tell me how bad it is (what. What is the point. Just go)

NSFW is on thin ice but I will likely just block the tag if you post about it so it doesn’t really bother me!!... however PLEASE keep it away from me I am very sex repulsed and WILL block you ON SIGHT!!!

Are racist/ xenophobic

There is likely LOTS more I’m forgetting so I will update this later… also just saying I reserve the right to block ANYONE no matter if you fit into this criteria or not. If I don’t vibe with you I will politely block you and look the other way!!! No theatrics required, I just want to curate my experience and NOT cause needless conflict hsjshshsh…

Anyway with all the negative stuff out of the way… I really hope you enjoy my blog!!! I’m just here to have fun honestly and express my ideas and passions and work on a little page of the internet so!!!! Hope you have fun too!!!! :D

[fletchingbrilliant]

It's Only a Crooked Moon, Chapter One

•••

Read it on AO3!

So I started a fic all by my onesies. Let's see how this goes.

Highly canon divergent, but many many same elements as canon. Some geography changed. Many lore liberties taken.

Many ships will occur, probably. But it's mainly Radiodust. Go figure.

•••

“Come out and face me, Radio Demon! For weeks you have evaded my assault, but no more! I have ensured that you'll have no choice but to accept my challenge!”

Gears whirred, pistons whined, and steam erupted in a sharp whistle, Sir Pentious’ newest machine of destruction taking one lurching mechanical step, then another, gaining in speed as it went. It was a proud moment for the serpentine Sinner, debuting such an impressive marvel, a creation that could one day rival his own precious War Machine. It was large, clearing the height of a two-story building, bearing the form of a sort of robotic giraffe, yet possessing many jointed brass tentacles in the place of its legs. They wound around each other, the base of each hitting the ground hard and cracking the already ruined pavement that made up the streets of Pentagram City. From the head of his newly finished weapon, arranged as a cockpit designed exclusively for his use, Sir Pentious gave a hard pull on the lever that raised the giraffe’s horns, making their internal chambers open wide to charge their vicious attack. He grabbed onto the horn that amplified his voice down the street.

“I know you are here, Alastor! It is no use to hide!! Vengeance will be mine!!!”

“Vengeance for what?”

Sir Pentious squacked and flew backwards as the sight of the Radio Demon materialized on the other side of the viewport, perched right on the tip of the giraffe’s nose. He was bent over at a sharp angle, leaning on his staff.

“Alastor!!” Pentious hissed, sweeping upright again and righting his distressed top hat. “Just as I intended, you have come to do battle! I will now prove once and for all that it is I who truly deserves to stand as the most feared Sinner to ever stalk the streets of Hell!”

To Pentious’ dismay, Alastor tilted his head far down to his shoulder. “I'm sorry… who are you, again?”

“Wha– I'm Sir Pentious!! The architect of destruction! The engineer of disaster!! The mechanic of doom!!!”

“My my my, with so many impressive titles, it's a wonder that I've never heard of you!”

“You insolent wretch!” Pentious shouted, forcing back the foul and bitter taste of once again going unacknowledged, unseen by those he aspired to stand beside. “I swear to you, Radio Demon, that by the time I am done with you, you will remember the name Sir Pentious!!”

The dual horn beam finished its slow and steady charge, and Pentious grinned manically at the befuddled Overlord.

“This will be my greatest revenge!”

“This will wha– oh. Oh my.”

He saw Alastor’s eyes widen for a moment, then nothing but blinding light as his laser blast shot down at his creation’s own nose, hitting his opponent squarely in his chest. When the light cleared, Pentious followed the trail of smoke down the narrow street. Alastor was bouncing, tumbling over the ruined pavement like an abandoned rag doll, landing in a smoking heap.

“Yes yes yes yes!!” Pentious cried in pure joy, throwing his fist into the air. “Feel the power of my wrath, Alastor, and know that you have finally met your match!”

The giraffe lurched forward, tentacled legs closing in on their helpless prey. The deerlike demon was not moving, not even a twitch. Was Pentious’ new weapon truly powerful enough to completely incapacitate the Radio Demon with only one blow?

This, of course, was not the case, and Sir Pentious preemptively cursed himself for allowing even a moment of such blind optimism. He brought his mechanical marvel directly in front of the unmoving demon, released one of its flexible tentacular ‘arms’ from its housing, brought it to bear down onto Alastor, ready to grab him. But in a moment that stirred utter dread within the serpent, Alastor’s hand shot up while the rest of his body lay unmoving. The Radio Demon seized the tendril, which coiled about his arm in response.

Then his body twitched and writhed, undulating and rising like liquid back to his feet. His clothing, his face, his hands, were all singed by Pentious’ weapon, smoke rising from his maniacally grinning visage.

“I suppose, little goose, that you think you got the bulge on me,” he said, his voice sounding detached from his own body. It was practically leaking into Pentious’ mind as though seeping through his pores as a wicked vapor, the crackle and static of radio waves prickling his skin. “I’ll certainly give you credit for your moxie, and no mistake. But…”

He closed his fist around the tendril, then gave it a mighty tug. Sir Pentious, stunned with disbelief, was pulled forward with the force of it. The entire machine was pulled from the center where the cavity that housed the arms was held. It must have been a nearly humorous sight, such a small man folding a massive tentacled giraffe in half with a single hand. But Pentious was not laughing. He was currently busy trying to keep from losing a fang by way of facial collision.

Suddenly, everything jerked to a halt. Sir Pentious pulled himself up to look out the viewport again, peering down at where his prey-turned-predator was still standing.

He was laughing. No, he was cackling. His head was thrown back in delight, and with dread Pentious saw that his antlers were beginning to twist and writhe like some wicked crooked tree that would bear no fruit. Like a living faerie tale the monster grew, Pentious’ great invention soon becoming dwarfed by Alastor's rapidly increasing height.

It was in moments like this that Sir Pentious, passionate and inspired inventor though he was, was left to marvel at the seemingly unknowable power that dwelt dormant within the tormented flesh of the Sinner. It was a power so natural yet so corrupt, limited only by each soul’s own unique nature. He could spend even more lifetimes than he already had trying to truly harness that untapped potential only to barely graze the surface, to dip his proverbial toe into those sweet and addictive waters. 

He wasn't sure whether the feeling raised him up with inspiration or crushed him into the dirt with hopelessness.

Alastor, the Radio Demon whose legend began such a relatively short time ago, lived up to the nightmares recounted by Sinner and hellborn alike. His eyes became endless black voids, pitiless, hungry, ready to suck up any fool who gazed too long into their infinite depths. His grin, a permanent fixture on his terrible visage, grew wider and wider still, beyond what any gentle nature would allow. Yellow and brown teeth curved as they grew, stained with the viscera of every victim he devoured, gums black and breath foul, hiding a gray and slimy tongue, as long and winding as Pentious’ own tail. The vibrant green stitches that appeared on Alastor's face and pulled at his cheeks, covering the edges of his lips, seemed to be both keeping something out and keeping something in. His joints popped, his limbs stretched and contorted, their positions growing more and more unnatural as the demon's size increased. His crimson claws glimmered in the low light, each now roughly the size of scythe’s blade. Pentious was staring into the face of truest horror, truest evil… and he could not look away. 

“So you desire to have the Radio Demon know your name, little wyrmling?” Alastor said, the pits of his eyes flickering red as he spoke, his mouth unmoving, audio distortion warping the sound. If Sir Pentious had suddenly gone deaf, he was certain he still would have heard it.

Alastor's giant hand grabbed onto Pentious’ machine by its neck, lifting it to bring the viewport to his eye level. Sir Pentious could only cling onto the main console in a bid to remain upright. He was suddenly extremely grateful that he had not made accommodations for his Egg Bois in this design, but in the same moment wondered how they would survive without him to look after them.

All Pentious could see through the glass was the Radio Demon’s horrific face. “You'll receive an even greater honor,” he said, “as a proud new member of my radio chorus!”

Pentious felt something strange, a sort of tugging that felt at first like there was a metal ball in his gut, and a magnet was trying to pull it out. But that dull pressure soon gave way to terrible pain, rending, tearing. Something vital was being torn from him, his very essence was being ripped apart!

There came with this pain a sort of weightlessness, perhaps an out of body experience, and Sir Pentious became aware that he was no longer screaming. In fact, he was quite lucid, his awareness now sharp yet utterly calm. He knew he had only moments before Alastor would devour him completely, he had only one chance to escape a fate far worse than any death could be. 

Still clinging to the control panel, Pentious freed one hand to grab onto the black lever on the left hand side. He looked up into the void once more and he did not flinch. This was not how his story was going to end. 

He pulled the lever. 

There was a jolt, a deep rumble within the earth, the scream of audio feedback, a flash of blinding green light, then nothing. 

•••

“Are you bitches ready to have the biggest damn party this side of Hell?! Lemme hear you scream for me, babies!!!”

The crowd did scream, and Velvette grinned, flipping her glittering microphone in her hand. It was a fairly small stage, but it was sleek and it made a statement, and it fit just so between the shabby buildings of the street she'd commandeered for this event. And the mob did not care. They packed the place, a swarm of sweaty and smelly plebeians desperate for just a whiff of everything she was. Their hands slapped the stage, reaching and grasping to touch her. Every time one got close, she stomped it with her heeled boot, and was sure they'd cherish the scar she'd gifted to them. 

It wasn't as large an event as Velvette wanted, nor as grand as she had been promised. She hadn't been with the Vees long, fine, whatever. But Vox had made her one of them. That was supposed to come with a better setup than what she'd been working with before. When she had to scrape and claw and work her ass off for a handful of Subscribers (her affectionate name for the souls she collected). He told her to be patient, that she had to settle into her place at VoxTech. But Vox needed to get in on social media, like, ten years ago, and she was his answer to that problem.

It wasn't wise to piss off the person who basically controlled the internet of Hell. 

“That's right, duckies. You'd kill for it. I know.” She didn't let those frustrations show as she worked the crowd into a greater frenzy, blowing kisses and flipping birds, making them go nuts the less effort she appeared to put into her performance.

Those fuckwits have no idea how much effort this actually takes.

With a nod to the crew, the music kicked on and she started her next dance, singing whenever she felt like gracing her fans with a bar or two. They were frothing at the mouth, so desperate and sad. Verosika Mayday wished she could work a crowd like this. They were going to be lined up around the block to sign themselves away. Velvette wondered how many gigs like this it would take to possess more souls than Vox himself.

“Now who wants to have it all?” she barked. “Who wants to be like me?”

They all did. This was so much easier than selling influencer courses.

“Then c'mon baby dolls, GIMME ALL YOU GOT!!”

They surged, Velvette could practically taste all these new contracts…

…and then everything went tits up in five seconds flat. 

One of the intersections her impromptu block party was cutting off suddenly lit up in a green blaze that totally clashed with her red and violet light show, accompanied by a booming sound that soon gave way to the crackle of static. The high pitched wail of audio feedback came right after it, then every one of Velvette’s speakers blew up, sending fire and electricity and potential Subscribers flying all over the place. The screens projecting her face to the back of the crowd went next, sparking and crashing onto the stage. 

Velvette whipped her head around to a panicking crew member. 

“You! Figure out what the fuck that is and fix it right the fuck now.”

The frantic demon was stammering something completely fucking useless when another loud crash came from the block that had at least stopped glowing green. Her audience was so densely packed there was no way they'd be able to scatter quickly enough, and could only flail around as the massive form of something collapsed onto a large swath of them. Desperately the rest of the crowd scrambled to flee, though Velvette noticed with no small amount of pleasure that several of them were filming the carnage on their phones even as they backed away.

She hopped off of the flaming stage and parted the crowd in waves with only a touch of her finger to the shoulders of flabbergasted fanboys. In a matter of moments she made it to the wreckage, which was somehow quite a bit smaller than it had looked only moments ago.

It was still large, larger than the handful of fans who were squashed under its heavy metallic girth. The thing was a machine of some sort, but its aesthetic was totally ancient. Either that, or someone was just way too devoted to Steampunk roughly a millennium since it was even remotely trendy. If she had to guess, Velvette would have described it as… an ugly fucking mess.

Velvette snapped a few pics herself, zooming in on key parts that looked like joints or busted control panels. She moved around to where the remains of a cockpit appeared to be, large shards of glass from a window littering the ground. Whoever was to blame for this mess shouldn't have been too far away. Clouds of smoke were still billowing up from inside the cockpit, illuminated in an eerie way by a small green fire that had no clear source. Was this where the blast initiated? And if so, did the machine do it, or was it that massive thing that somehow vanished the moment it hit the ground?

Tired of waiting for the smoke to clear, Velvette turned to her still-captive audience, projecting over their panicking little heads. “Who wants to be a big help to their favorite babydoll?!!”

They all did.

“You're all such precious little things, oh my god you're so cute! Alright, duckies, all I need is the shirt off of your backs!! Now give ‘em to me!!”

Because people, Sinners, and especially her fans were disgusting wastes of carbon, Velvette was practically showered with shirts, jackets, even trousers and… how did they get their knickers off so fast nevermind I don't actually want to know. Her staff deftly kept the clothes from landing on her, and gave her the least offensive offerings while the crowd screamed, desperate to have their clothing chosen for a sacrifice. A couple of large coats and a skirt in hand, Velvette herself marched into the wreckage and threw the wretched crimes against fashion over the fire, stomping down to quash the flames. The sounds of the crowd and security keeping them at bay began to fade away as she squinted through the haze. She snapped a few more pictures, stepped forward, and–

squelch

The hair on Velvette’s neck and arms shot up and she grimaced as she stepped on something thick and slimy. She hopped back, looked down, and saw the long winding tail of a serpentine Sinner. A very familiar Sinner. 

“Ohhh, that's why the tacky steampunk looked familiar,” she said to herself, photographing the collapsed idiot who thought that he was more qualified than her. Apparently this idiot – whatever his fucking name was – had been here longer than Vox and even longer than the Radio Demon, and yet never got strong enough on his own to become an Overlord. So instead he begged to be part of the Vees. When he tried to raise a fuss about Velvette’s appointment, it didn't do much outside of making for a really funny side story to go along with her debut. And now he was giving her a part two. 

The smoke cleared enough that she could see the rest of him now. His Victorian chic was tattered and burned, the eye on his top hat closed along with the ones on his face, and the ones that lined his tail. She laughed and raised her phone to take more pictures. But the moment she tapped the screen, her phone shook in her hand, the screen flickered and glitched out, green artifacting taking over everything. Then it grew hot, really hot, in an instant, causing Velvette to drop it in surprise. It wasn't a moment too soon either, because the damn thing exploded just before hitting the ground. 

There were cries of shock and surprise, and Velvette turned away from the wreckage to see her staff members distracted by their own tech shorting out, phones and headsets catching fire. And the fans too, their phones jumping out of their hands as they popped and burst in a wave apparently radiating from the point where Velvette stood. 

“Okay, I'd really love to know just what the fuck is–” Velvette turned back to the unconscious snake, but was struck by what she saw in his place. 

“I can not say that I bear much surprise, to see thy presence at the center here.” The long and tall figure that seemed to be made of shadow itself loomed over Velvette, bright green eyes narrowing at her. “Thou art well appointed, and no mistake, to stand alongside the Voice and the Moth.”

“Cut the poetry reading, Zestial,” Velvette said, successfully glaring up at the old fuck now that the initial shock wore off. The same couldn't be said for the Sinners around her, though. There was renewed screaming as the weak-willed started freaking out at Zestial’s mere presence. “This right here is a private issue, on my turf, so back off. Unless you had something to do with this?”

To Velvette's irritation, Zestial smiled. He looked like a fucked up jack-o-lantern. “I possess not the desire to destroy such a marvel as this. Thou wouldst be wise to demonstrate some small shred of humility in the face of a power so great.”

“You're telling me that you think this scrap heap was something special?”

“Indeed I do, but it is not to Sir Pentious' marvel that I speak in this case. Rather, I would advise thou to regard the force that brought both of these titans to heel.”

“Titans? You're calling that slug– wait, both?!”

But Zestial wasn't paying her any more attention. He turned away, and leaned down over Pentious’ unmoving body. Velvette couldn't see what he was doing, and some force – perhaps just her sense of self preservation – kept her from interfering. He lifted Sir Pentious from the ground with one arm, and with the other he was picking up… something else. Shadows swept up around him, swirling into a frenzy until she could only see the other Overlord in patches. He turned as the darkness enveloped him completely, meeting Velvette’s eyes. For only one fleeting moment, she saw the other figure Zestial was holding. The long and tattered red coat, small and twisted black antlers, nasty crooked teeth fixed in a permanent smile even while unconscious…

The whole world was suddenly plunged into total darkness, then seconds later the light returned, and Zestial was gone. But echoing around her, or maybe only in her own mind, she heard his voice. 

The nights of Hell are darker still

Than all thy scheming could fulfill–

Powers thou could Never know

Are frothing, teeming, Deep below.

In fleeting moments do they rise,

And beg for newfound sacrifice.

A glimpse is all I was allowed

'Fore even I was rendered cowed;

Yet thou, thy Triad, seek to hone

These forces thou could Never own.

What happened here is but a Taste

Of what I Fear shall only grow.

All that you treasure is but waste

To the Laughter in the 

          Deep…

                    …Green…

                              …Glow.

Velvette looked around, dizzy and disoriented, infuriated and confused. But Zestial was gone, and he took Sir Pentious… and the Radio Demon… with him. Those left after the chaos were gathering around, hoping that their idol could give them any guidance, protection… something. 

I couldn't even if I wanted to, duckies.

Whatever the fuck just happened, it's really going to shake things up around here.

In spite of herself, Velvette smiled. 

I can't wait to tell the boys about this.

•••

The waning moon was high in the sky, a crooked smile of pale red against the spilled red wine that made up the night sky. The sky of Hell. Or just the sky of Angel Dust’s Hell, the Hell of Sinners. But what other Hell mattered? It was the only one he would ever know. His ankles hurt, an impressive feat given how long he could last in heels of any shape or size, in any position. The problem was that he was usually dancing, or doing something that wasn't quite so repetitive the way that walking was. And he had long since lost track of how long he had been walking. It had been at least a day, that much he had figured. The one baggie he'd had on him when he left Val's place was empty, all the adrenaline spent, and now he was just running on fumes. His scalp itched, his eyes hurt, and he probably smelled awful.

Last time he gathered his bearings, having any idea where he might be, he had taken a turn out of the entertainment district into one of the five large slums that made up the ‘points’ of Pentagram City, lovingly referred to as the Sloth Districts. It was easy to get mugged or raped or whatever in these dark and somehow even more miserable corners of the city, but it was also easier to pass by unnoticed. Angel Dust was no stranger to the slums, both in life and in death. And anything that could possibly threaten him here was nothing – nothing – compared to what he was running away from. 

“Go ahead and leave, then! You really think you can last one day out there without me? Those snarling, drooling beasts will devour you. And no matter how loud you scream, no matter how much you beg, I won't come to save you. 

Is that what you want, amorcito?”

Angel Dust gritted his teeth and scoffed at the memory. He didn't care. He didn't need him. He said as much, screamed it, dodging insults and threats and grabbing hands. The smell of Valentino’s foul breath, that oozed through every fiber that made up his den of sweet promises and seductive lies, lingered in Angel’s nostrils, making him gag even now. That wasn’t what he needed anymore. It had never been what he needed. He was better than that. Or at least, he would be. He would be.

I’m gonna be better. That was the mantra he repeated in his mind over and over, with each step reinforcing it. He had successfully removed the tracking app from his phone in preparation for his escape, but heard it ring, felt it vibrate, as Valentino continued to press him, trying to convince him to return. Turning notifications off worked for a while. Then he got the nerve to block him. But finally, as his legs threatened to give out and he realized he was running out of street, he made the choice.

After one more turn, headed north, Angel Dust skittered up a wall and hopped over it to find that he was on the outskirts of Pentagram City. There was hardly anywhere to go here, the land stretching out barren and dry, leading to a sheer drop into nothingness. The space between spaces lay beyond, so they said, and no Sinner could hope to successfully breach those outer limits of Hell. Still he was overcome with a maddening rush of emotion that had only one possible outlet. He let out a guttural cry that soon turned to hysterical laughter, and he ran. He ran with a new burst of energy that made his legs burn, all the way to that drop into nowhere. He skidded to a halt right at the edge…

…and he hurled his cell phone into the chasm, laughing all the while.

“FUCK YOU, VAL!! I AIN’T NEVER, NEVER GONNA BE YOURS! NEVER AGAIN!!!”

Tears flooding his eyes and spraying into the air like jewels, Angel Dust fell onto his back and continued to cackle, the sound becoming high and deranged and not at all like his own voice. But he let it go. He was free.

He was free.

How long he lay there, staring up at the crooked smile of the moon, he didn’t know. It wasn’t as long as he’d spent walking, but was longer than he’d meant to. Maybe he fell asleep. The crooked smile moon looked like it was moving. Then a pair of wide and unblinking eyes appeared above it, and the crooked face began to sing. Angel Dust smiled back at the face in the sky that had become his new companion, and he sang along with it.

This was nice. But all nice things ended way too soon.

“It’s alright. No, Dad. Yes. No. No, it– that’s fine. Please, you don’t have to. Okay, I’ll call you back– right. Bye.”

Angel turned his head away from his crooked-smile-face-moon-friend towards the voice. Just who in the fuck would be walking around this nothing space was beyond him, and when he saw her, he was no less confused.

She was fairly tall, it looked, wearing a cute little number in red and black, with the thickest, platinum-est blonde hair he’d ever seen, tied in a black ribbon and flowing like water behind her. She was just hanging up her phone, looking completely done, stuffing it in her pocket while carrying a whole shitload of boxes balanced precariously on her other arm. Following her course with his eyes, Angel saw her destination. There was a hill, of a sort, that kind of jutted out over the chasm, and on that hill was a building. It looked old and sort of faded, like a photograph from when he was alive. A hotel, if he had to guess. He was weighing the pros and cons of bailing before she noticed him when she started to really struggle with her burden. Before he could question himself, he was on his aching feet, hurrying over to her and catching the boxes seconds before they fell.

“Woah there, Little Miss Overachiever!” he said, collecting four boxes in his lower arms. “It’s okay, you got the part.”

“Oh! I– wha– thank you so much!” she said, turning to look at him with a very white and very flushed face. Her eyes were huge and too cute, save for the sharpness of her red pupils and how wickedly sharp her fangs were. From this close he noticed that she was balancing all this on narrow pointed feet, probably hooves. Maybe she’d been dead long enough to really get a handle on them.

“Don’t worry about it,” Angel said, raising an eyebrow as he continued to assess this completely bonkers situation. “What are ya doin’ all the way out here, anyway? Not exactly what I’d call safe to be traipsing around outside the city all by your lonesome. There’s like, boogiemans out here or some shit.”

“Boogie… what?” She blinked at him in utter confusion. “I don’t know what that means. But I’m okay! I’m just getting the hotel set up!”

He gestured to her and they started walking toward the spooky old place together. “You own this weird old creep shack? The fuck you want with a place like this? Who even built a place like this??”

“Oh… my dad,” she said, her voice falling a little flat. “He’s helping… I mean he sort of… I’m taking it over, fixing it up, since he wasn’t using it for anything anymore.”

“That’s… weird and vague,” Angel allowed, really feeling it in his thighs as they worked their way up the hill. “Expecting to get a lot of guests all the way out here?”

“I’m hoping so! I have a special mission in mind for the hotel, and I think a lot of people will really respond to it!”

“Yeah? And what mission is that?”

“I’m going to help Sinners find redemption!”

Angel Dust stopped several feet from the front doors, turning to give her the most withering stare he could manage. “You’re gonna what.”

“I’m going to help Sinners– oh you heard me.” She looked no less enthusiastic, however, delivering what must have been an oft-practiced speech. “Things in Pentagram City just keep getting worse and worse for everyone, and with the exterminations, so many Sinners feel like they have no hope for a future of any kind! So I thought that if I could provide a place for Sinners to come together and learn to change their ways, however it is they wound up getting sent here, then maybe they could be redeemed, be brought up to Heaven! And then there wouldn’t be any more overcrowding in Hell, everybody would be able to be in Heaven, and be happy, and everyone will be better off!”

Angel took several moments to process the lunacy he’d just heard. “And this is a thing you thought of with your brain, and your brain told you it was a good idea that would definitely work?”

“Yup!”

“...You’re not a Sinner, then, huh?”

“Oh! No. No, I’m not,” she said.

“Then why would you give a single fuck about us?”

“Well… because you’re my people. Oh! I should introduce myself!” The weird, weird demon scurried to the doors, set her boxes down on the doorstep, then scurried back and extended her hand. “Hi! My name is Charlie Morningstar!”

“Charlie Morningstar. You’re Charlie Morningstar? The fucking Princess of Hell?!” Angel nearly dropped the boxes he was carrying.

She didn’t drop her hand. “It’s nice to meet you… Um…?”

“Oh. Uh. Angel. Angel Dust.” He took her hand tentatively, wondering just how this is where his life had led. “Nice to meet you too, uh, your Highness.”

“Nooo, no no no, please not that,” Charlie said awkwardly, giggling in a very un-princess-like way. “Just Charlie. I don’t want to be treated like I’m any better than anyone else.”

Angel Dust shook his head slowly, finally setting down his own burden. “You ain’t never been seen in public since you were like, a little kid or some shit, least that’s what they say, and now you’re just setting up shop in some shitty hotel in the middle of nowhere… wait, so this is Lucifer’s place? The fuck’s he got a shithole like this for?”

“I… honestly don’t know what he did with it before,” she said, sounding forlorn. “But it’s mine now, and I’m going to pursue my dream! It’s basically all done up, now I just need to find some guests!”

Angel looked at the hotel. Then at Charlie. Then at the hotel again. It was dingy. It was dark, probably damp, looked like it smelled funny… but it wasn’t Valentino’s place.

“You know… I happen to be a really famous po– uh. Movie star!” Angel Dust said. “Okay, porn star, but that’s as big as it gets down here. Maybe you’d be able to draw in some clientele if they knew you had a real A-lister settin’ up shop here.”

Charlie’s eyes widened, sparkling with an eager joy that instantly made Angel Dust feel a little guilty. “You want to try to get redeemed?”

“Well, let’s not go that far, but, I mean… I’ll try anything once, baby.” He gave her one of his most winning smiles with a dashing wink.

It seemed to work. She blushed and grinned, and clapped her hands together, and then – to Angel’s shock – threw her arms around him in a tight hug. “Oh I’m so glad! Thank you thank you thank you this is going to be so–”

Just what it was going to ‘be so’, he never found out, because in that moment, the red sky suddenly turned completely black, and they were both thrust into total darkness. He felt Charlie pull away, but he took hold of her shoulders and kept her grounded lest she float off into the nether. In another handful of moments the darkness was gone, and there was a tall and imposing figure standing in front of them, even taller than Angel was himself. Taller than Valentino, maybe.

“Good evening to thee, sweet young Charlie,” said the Sinner, one Angel Dust knew only by reputation. The spooky guy with the top hat, spidery in some ways Angel was, and in some ways Angel wasn’t. He was an Overlord, a super old one, and one the Vees really didn’t like. “I do hope I am not intruding upon some clandestine meeting ‘twixt thee two.”

“No, Uncle Zestial, not at all! It’s so good to see you, it’s been so long!” Charlie said. Angel Dust was flummoxed. He half expected her to hug him too, but she held off. “Is… is everything okay?”

“That I cannot say for sure. But perhaps…” he tilted his head toward Angel Dust for a second, and he felt all of his nerves suddenly tense up in a weird and unnamable horror. Then he looked back at Charlie, but the chill remained. “...Perhaps I might ask, if thou art willing, for a favor, small I hope, large I fear.”

Charlie smiled. “I’ll help in any way I can. What do you need?”

“An incident occurred this very night, under conditions still I cannot say. Two Sinners, wayward, found some plight, and need a place where they might stay. Perhaps for respite, perhaps for change.”

“Well, that’s perfect!” Charlie said, while Angel tried to parse what exactly this Shakesperean fucker was trying to say. “I have plenty of space for anyone who needs it.”

“Even if those Sinners are… quite deranged?” Zestial’s glowing green smile turned even creepier, and Angel shuddered.

But Charlie was undeterred. “No matter what, I won’t turn anyone away.”

Just where they had been stored, Angel had no idea, but Zestial spread out his arms and pulled from under his cloak two bodies. He laid them on the ground, gently, then took a couple of steps back. Charlie and Angel Dust approached, peering down at them. One looked like a snake man, wearing a top hat and a fancy coat. The other was a creepy, bony, angular man. His face was a dark and murky gray, his hair as cherry red as his tattered suit, and he had two tiny black antlers on his head. Two large tufts of hair looked almost like ears. Maybe they were his ears. And even though he was unconscious… he was smiling. They were both badly singed, and injured in several places.

Both of them started to rouse at the same moment, slow and groaning at first, but when they both blinked their bright red eyes and took stock of their surroundings, they both shot up like bolts of lightning, locking their gazes with each other.

“Alastor!!” The serpent hissed, surging upright with remarkable fluidity. “What happened? What have you done to my beautiful machine??!”

The deer man hopped up too, his angular joints cracking as he did. “It went precisely where I’m going to send you, no doubt! It was… Sir Pentious, wasn’t it? Well, Sir Pentious, say hello to Oblivion for me!!”

As Charlie let out a startled cry and made to intervene, the one called Alastor flung his hand out into the air, clearly with the intent to do some kind of magic shit or something. But nothing happened. His smile, which was wide and yellow and gross (and made Angel think of the crooked moon) sort of cracked, and his ear fluff flattened on his head.

Sir Pentious stared ahead. “You… you were going for something there, weren’t you?”

Alastor glared. “I bothered to remember your name, don’t ruin it by mocking me.”

He pulled his hand back, then jutted it out again. Still nothing happened.

“Maybe you’re just not doing it right,” Pentious suggested.

“Maybe you’re not doing it right!!”

“But I wasn’t–! Oh… maybe you should try it like this…”

Sir Pentious stuck his own hand out this time, doing a fancy little flourish that Angel Dust found hilarious. And then, to the shock of everyone – especially Alastor and Pentious, it seemed – a flash of black energy swirled around Sir Pentious’ hand, turning acid green for just an instant, and then a staff appeared in the serpent’s grasp. It looked kind of like an old school microphone, with a big red eye set into the base.

For several moments, no one said anything. No one even moved, or breathed. Then Alastor straightened his back, his hair bristling.

“What the fuck??!”