#tried something new with the sharpening/coloring here :)

[epiaphany]

#do not call him

[uchispeach]

Killer

Dark! Bully! Rafe Cameron x Fem! Reader

Warnings: NON CON, SMUT, rough sex, manhandling & degradation, choking, breeding kink, bullying, violent & abusive behavior, Mean! Rafe, Bully! Rafe…

A/N: Sorry for disappearing, I’ve just had a shit ton of family problems. I hope I can update a bit faster from now on! ALSO lmk if you want this to become a series! 💕

A laugh, dripping with mockery, echoed through the vast room, sparking a ripple of chuckles and whispered insults from the nearby group of boys.

Rafe Cameron’s body stretched lazily in the chair, making it seem almost comically small under his heavy frame. Even with his limbs sprawled out in complete relaxation, the outline of his hard muscles pressed against his shirt, as if daring to break free at any moment. You couldn't deny he looked attractive, exuding an undeniable magnetism in that confident, almost predatory pose, his new buzz cut only amplifying the arrogance that oozed from him. But that ugly, smug smirk? It made your bones ache and your throat dry up in ways you couldn’t explain.

His eyes, the color of storm clouds, lingered on yours with a deliberate intensity, delighting in your discomfort, relishing in every flinch and subtle shift of your gaze. You turned away, hoping your disinterest would bore him eventually, but you knew it wouldn’t.

No matter how hard you focused on the lecture, his presence was like an intrusive, constant drill on your brain—his burning gaze a distraction that gnawed at your senses. How naive had you been to think he'd ever leave you alone? Every time you raised your hand in class, you could count on him to whisper some stupid joke under his breath. How foolish had you been to think he would ever stop tormenting you? This sick dynamic between you two had been a game since childhood, and if anything, he seemed to thrive on it.

His once-small fingers had grown long and strong -now covered in silver rings. Those same digits that used to tangle on your hair and pull from it until your scalp burned in pain. His legs were now far longer, but they had always been longer than yours, outpacing you as they chased you through the school halls in all infant and adolescent years, always with the aim of making you stumble and fall to your knees. But his mouth had never changed. It had only sharpened, evolving into something far more dangerous.

You’d convinced yourself you were above all of it. Charleston had felt like a fresh start, and you’d thought the Pogue curse might finally be something you could outrun. But when Rafe Cameron showed up once more, everything you’d built: your confidence, your peace of mind—began to crumble, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but the raw, unresolved tension between you.

You were studying to be a teacher, the first in your family to receive a scholarship that promised a brighter future. Your days were filled with lesson plans, textbooks, and the weight of academic expectation. Every second of your time was accounted for as you worked tirelessly to carve out a new path for yourself, one that didn't involve being brought back to the past or the memories of him. You didn’t have time for distractions, certainly not for him. But here he was, always lurking just at the edges of your life, a dark cloud you couldn’t escape.

Rafe was studying for an MBA, the complete opposite of you, and yet fate had forced you into a shared class. You would’ve done anything to avoid him, but trapped in between those fours walls, mere meters away from him - it just seemed impossible.

And there he was, at your left, staring with a look of sick pleasure every time he found you trying to focus. His presence was suffocating, like the air itself became dense with his attention. His words, the snide remarks whispered under his breath, were like a weight on your chest, making every breath harder to take.

He harassed you constantly in that class—every. single. time. Without fail. No matter how much you tried to bury yourself in your notes, no matter how hard you tried to ignore his mocking chuckles, his eyes always found you, always zeroed in on your every move. He’d challenge you with pointless questions, make stupid comments about your work, his voice dripping with condescension. But it didn’t stop there. His reach extended beyond the classroom, following you into the hallways, his tall frame casting a shadow that would make your stomach turn. He would appear out of nowhere, as though drawn to you by some sick fixation, and make his presence known with a smirk or a taunt, forcing you to look up from your books, to meet those stormy eyes full of wickedness.

He would ‘accidentally’ bump into you, making your school supplies fall over. He licked his lower lip when you bent over to pick the mess up. His front would get dangerously close to your back in any queue, sometimes getting bold enough to grind slightly against you. He would move you around like a rag doll, always putting his huge palm on your ass to push you to the side. Still, there was nothing as uncomfortable as having his dirty eyes scanning you from head to toe at any given time - he licked his lower lip in amusement, making your cheeks grow hotter.

You’d always hoped, prayed, that once the class ended, he’d disappear—vanish into his own world and leave you to yours. But you were wrong. Every time the teacher dismissed you, and you gathered your things to leave, he’d be right there, waiting. It was like clockwork. His long, strong fingers would slide into the pockets of navy trousers, the scent of his manly cologne wafting over you in an intoxicating way. His gaze would follow you as you tried to make a clumsy exit, his footsteps closing the distance between you with every passing second. You hated that you could never outrun him. Hated how he always found a way to corner you.

And just as you thought you might make it out of the door, safe, free—he’d appear at the threshold, standing in your way with that damn smirk of his, a look that seemed to promise nothing but trouble.

“Leaving so soon?” His voice would slither through the air like poison.

Your heart would pound in your chest, but you’d force your eyes to look anywhere but at him, hoping and praying, that maybe, just maybe, today would be the day he’d leave you alone. But you knew better. You always knew better.

And now, you could feel it again; the familiar pressure of his presence, creeping closer, dark and inevitable.

“What’s that I’ve heard?” He scratched his head while pressing his brows together, pretending to be deep in thought. “…Oh, right” Now, enlightened; he stepped forward. Your almost wobbly legs did their best on distancing themselves -though, they weren’t allowed much movement after hitting a desk.

The back of your knees stung against the protruding piece of wood. “You tryna leave…study abroad, right?” Your eyes peeled in horror, and you hid in yourself as much as you could when his tall frame overpowered yours. “No, no. Look me right in the eye.” He clicked his tongue in disapproval. Without any hesitation, his cold rings found their place under your chin, burying in your skin when lifting up your face. “How-how do you know?” Your stuttering made him smile -predatory grin adorning his harsh features. “Everyone thinks you’re smart…” The pain on your neck amplified at the uncomfortable position.

“…But I think you’re just a dumb bitch.” He spat at you. Tone as rough as the domineering grip on your jaw. “…Bragging left and right - you really thought I wouldn’t find out?” He shook you with erratic movement. The pain you felt under his digits distracted you from a perverted knee slowly opening its way between your legs.

His unruly eyes took a break from tormenting yours as he admired your skirt’s fabric draping over your thighs. The blond snob flashed you his hungry canines while biting into his lower lip.

The horror only amplified when a sharp thrust attacked your clothed sex. His impatient knee continued to roughly rub against the cotton underwear, cruelty reflected on the fast pace. “Ha. Would you look at that? The dirty slut is getting wet!” You whined in disgust when Rafe pressed harder on the soaked circle.

The scarce dignity you thought you held was harshly stripped from you. On his arms you were nothing but a squeaky toy he got to bite and squeeze whenever he desired, and little by little you felt victim to a raw resignation.

The next thing you sensed was his palm abandoning your neck and moving onto your meaty thighs. He gave the flesh a squeeze, followed by a lusty groan leaving his pinkish lips.

Your mind tried to wander away, but the situation was just too much; too much stimulation everywhere, too much heat coming from his larger body, too much degradation directed your way in mean words and touches, too much torturous pressure applied to your virgin cunt and too much pawing at your unexplored parts.

The next thing your brain registered was a rip. The sound of something being torn apart, and if you didn’t see the light fabric pooling around your feet, you could’ve almost swear it was the noise your spirit made when breaking in half. “And I was thinking about making it nice for you…fucking you on a bed of roses or some corny shit.” He talked with nothing but mockery, while leaning onto your chest. “But I guess you prefer it when I treat you like a cheap whore.” The Cameron boy finished it off with a chuckle, his muscles flexing hard under the rumbling laugh.

You wanted to contradict him, defend your honor and pull him off of you, but all protests got stuck in your throat when he took you by it and slammed your upper body against the desk. The rigid wood wasn’t welcoming. Your head spinned uncontrollably at the beast-like hit.

The lack of oxygen didn’t stop you from hearing him unbuckling his pants. Panic grew louder as you heard his clothes falling to the Classroom’s floor. Worries clouded you in a tumultuous storm, and you did your best to cover yourself up when the only layer covering your vulnerable hole was pushed to the side. “Open your fucking legs or I’ll break your useless skull!” He demanded in a crazied tone, ripping your limbs apart and throwing them over his shoulders.

“Please, don’t.” Your eyelids squeezed together, shielding your irises from looking at the violating scene. “That’s right, beg me” Warm breath imposed itself above your slit, followed by a warmer liquid dripping down your folds. “Gotta make it wetter…I don’t want you breaking at the first use.” Even though your sight was all black, you could imagine his satisfied grin decorating that diabolically handsome face.

You tried pulling away when a foreign limb rubbed against your sex, desperate to be let in. “Rafe, no-” You were cut short by your own screams, eyes peeled open at the feeling of his cock entering all at once.

“Fuck! Tight ass pussy.” He sounded in heaven, palms manhandling your knees to your chest while pounding ruthlessly into you.

The rest of your body went numb, being rocked up and down at the bestiality of the boy’s attack. His groans and moans overpowered your miserable sobs. Your withering form contrasted his blessed expressions, pure passion exuding from his now sweaty body.

“Your whorish cunt is squeezing the shit out of me…she doesn’t want me to leave!” He continued to talk while creating some deeply loud wet noises.

Your neck and waist’s skin burned under his cutting rings and the unsolicited friction of his grip that kept you still. Your ears got lost at the multiple pet names he called you, as well as the dirty sentences of encouragement he occasionally threw your way.

After almost an hour of feeling him impale you on his dick, you grew tired of screaming and crying, now reduced to quiet whimpers and even quieter pleas. “Stop-” He did the opposite to that, toned pelvis slapping hard against you as his tip bruised your cervix in persistent thrusts.

The cries that left your esophagus were now primal and raw, long nails holding onto his huge back. “That’s right, cry for me. You fucking deserve it!” That only made the tears fall faster down your cheeks, reaching your mouth on a salty taste.

And when his movements finally went sloppy and his member felt softer, your suffering only sharpened. “Tell me you love me” He barked at your face, drops of unintentional spit hitting your distressed face.

You thought you heard wrong, that between his chocking, and suffocating weight your brain had imagined the unimaginable. “Tell me you love me!” His features tensed, making a vein pop on his front.

Was Rafe Cameron asking for words of affirmation from you? Was the same guy who just butchered your purity asking you for your heart? Or was it just another inhumane prank? Another limit of yours he wanted to cross?

Clearly you took to much time thinking and not acting because the next thing you felt was the blond burying impossibly deeper into your core and making you know a new level of uncomfortability. “Tell me you fucking love or I’ll come inside you.” The light on the room was vast, you were sure of it. Such an elite university could only have the best illumination for its elitist students; still, his burly body completely covered yours.

His sharp jaw and eyes were enhanced by the darkness found in his stare. “I-” He trembled lightly in excitement at your shaky voice. “I love you.” You finally decreed, unknowingly sealing your fate.

His smile was like nothing you saw before, too devilish and twisted you actually doubted smiling was ever a nice gesture. And when you felt a dense liquid flooding your womb in overwhelming warmth, you swore you could see the devil in his eyes.

.

.

.

[justpeaxchy]

Warnings(?): none. Fluff and more fluff. Hiccup gets flustered, so does reader, so win-win.

Hiccup's hands fiddled with the charcoal pencil he had carefully sharpened as the dragon beside him gently gazed at his rider with curiosity. The new island they had discovered was covered with shades of orange from the trees that spiked up at a height bigger than he could ever imagine of climbing on. He had muttered the idea that they could, just maybe, find another night fury. He knew it was a far-fetched idea, making him feel a small pang of guilt.

"I know, bud. You never know though..." His eyes swirled with a deep green that matched the grass around them as he gently rubbed the dragon's chin, not yet noticing the approaching figure behind them.

It was only when Toothless had tilted his head up to glance behind them that Hiccup looked back to see you slowly making your way over to them, a delicate smile crossing your lips. "So, you've come to run away again?" You found your place next to Hiccup as he lightly scoffed, reaching out his hand for yours as you made yourself comfortable next to him while Toothless ran off to play with your dragon.

"Good afternoon to you as well, Milady." He guided your hands next to the charcoal pen he had put down, wanting you to continue the drawings on the map so he would have an excuse to gaze at you without being questioned. "And, no - not really. I mean, I guess you could say that." He muttered hesitantly, not fully paying attention to his words as you began to trace out more lines onto the paper.

You hummed, ignoring the fact that you started to feel his eyes on your form as you tried to push away the flutter in your chest. "Then, what? Going on another adventure with Toothless?" You felt your hand brush against his as you drew to the best of your abilities while he merely sighed, glancing at the trees that stood out brightly before them.

"Something like that.." Hiccup swept any remaining unruly hair out of his face as he absentmindedly leaned his head against your shoulder, causing you to questioningly gaze at him before going back to the map. He usually wasn't so... casual with the affection he showed you, despite being together for a couple of years. He has gotten more used to it, yes, but even simple actions like holding your hand for a longer amount of time or gently kissing your forehead took some time for him to regularly do. Not that you minded of course, as you yourself were new to it.

"Well, I'm not angry if that's what you're thinking." You mumbled, placing down the pencil and peeked at his face, which seemed calm and ethereal at the moment. Hiccup slightly lifted himself up from leaning on you, narrowing his eyes at your statement.

"I didn't take you to be-" he paused as if reconsidering what he would say, "- well, that angry at least." The young chief -to-be smiled as you rolled your eyes, your hands lifting up to his face as you gently brushed away any loose hairs, fighting off the urge to braid another piece of it.

"Trust me, I'm not angry. I just.." Your hands continued to wander around his face, stopping at his cheeks as he watched you intently. "..I was just thinking of why you wouldn't be at the dragon race today." You finished, managing to see both of the dragons fight over a large tree branch. You had a habit of worrying for Hiccup whenever he ran off like this, so when he would return he was usually met with crossed arms and a small smirk waiting for an explanation. He always assumed you'd be angry at him for it, but after a while he had realized you only cared for his safety and, if anything, wanted to go with him.

"Just know, Hiccup - you're probably the smartest person I've ever met, and I know when you're out here with Toothless, you're most likely discovering something new like.. this-" you gestured to the new land that surrounded the both of you, grinning at the color of the trees, "and after that you're probably off to create some new invention that'll help us a bunch." You thought over the many things Hiccup had done for Berk, despite how they treated him at one point. You never participated in what they said, instead feeling pity for him as a young girl and wishing that he would show them that he is capable of something.

Hiccup found himself avoiding your gaze, choosing instead to watch the dragon's roll around in the dirt as they continued to fight over the tree branch. "Where is this coming from all of a sudden..?" He thought for a moment that you wouldn't catch what he said but, nonetheless, you had most definitely heard the small grumble and you grinned once more as you went back to the map to see if there was anything else you could add.

"What? Can I not compliment my own future husband?" Your grin grew as you heard a struggled gasp from Hiccup, as if he had chocked on water at the unexpected statement. He still couldn't wrap his head around the fact that you were really his and would soon be his only wife. A sudden idea filled your mind as you heard him shuffle closer to you and the map, waiting for his further reaction.

"Well, no. I just - I just wasn't expecting that. Uhm.." Hiccup twiddled with the straps on his arms, unknowingly wanting to hear more of these 'compliments' from you. "S-so what are you drawing there?" He stated, as if completely forgetting it was the map he willingly allowed you to draw on.

"Ah, avoiding it, I see?" Your hand stopped sketching as you stole a glance at the taller figure beside you, noticing a slight shade of red dusting his cheeks. "Well, you can't escape my compliments, sir." Hiccup watched as you turned to fully face him, eyes glistening with mischief.

"What? W-who said I was avoiding it? " He went to pick up the charcoal pencil you placed back on the ground as you tried to make him look at you once more but he wouldn't budge. Your grin turned into a smirk as you casually leaned back on your arms, still taking him in.

"Hiccup, has anyone ever told you how pretty your eyes are by the way?" You watched as his movement became more rigid than they were before while he tried keeping his composure. "Y'know.. they really stand out every time I look at you. They match the forest in a way.." You hummed nonchalantly as if you were talking about the weather, watching Hiccup struggle against the blush that threatened to cover most of his face.

"Alright, yeah, I get it. Now-" He was interrupted as you swiftly stopped his hand from continuing to sketch, instead taking it from him rather gently and fix the rough edges he accidentally made. "Oh, my bad. I, uh-" He fumbled over his words, his brain not working with him at the moment and he questioned himself as to why he was acting in such a way. This wasn't the first time you did this but at the peak of his emotions from the earlier conversation with his father about becoming chief and then suddenly hearing your sweet talk did something to him that had him stop right in his tracks to hear every word you said, even if he was hesitant to accept some.

"I noticed you've gotten even better with riding Toothless. How's the wing suit coming along?" You playfully glanced at him as he stuttered over the right answer. "Nevermind, I know it's already great." You gently kissed Hiccup's nose as he sat there dumbfounded at your actions. Your eyes scanned his face as you told yourself to remember where all the freckles were located. "I like your freckles too.." you muttered, seeing him shake his head as he thought the grass was suddenly more interesting to look at.

You smiled as he said nothing, basking in the shade of red that was now visible from where you sat before watching the leaves on the trees around you both being gently swayed to the rhythm of the wind. "But in all seriousness, Hiccup. You're a great person. I just want you to see that. I'm not just complimenting you on your physical looks - although that is a huge bonus on my part-" you smirked back at him for a quick second as he cleared his throat to try and not choke on air, "I fell in love with you for who you are, Hiccup. Not because you're the chief's son, or because you were the first one to introduce dragons to us in this way, although that part is really awesome." You heard the two creatures behind you playfully growl as Toothless managed to win the branch before continuing, "I love you and all of your flaws. Even the ones that you think are flaws but are not. I want you to see yourself as someone that's not useless, Hiccup."

You were met with more shuffling as he turned to face you, his eyes holding something you couldn't pinpoint in words. "Nothing can make me change the fact that I love you, Hiccup. Even if I may get worried or a little upset with you sometimes.." You found yourself shuffling closer to the map, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed that he wasn't saying anything. "Anyway, you're too pretty to be mad at for a while-"

Your words never finished as you were lightly pulled away from the map to find Hiccup's lips on yours, startling you in every way possible while his other hand cupped your face to pull you even more closer to him than you already were. Time seemed to slow down, much to your delight, as he continued to take the lead; again, much to your surprise. His kiss was passionate, almost rough, as he gently caressed your face in his hand and you found yourself growing weak by the unspoken words his actions gave you; "I love you too, now shut up."

Hiccup would've continued but he had to breathe too, so he found himself begrudgingly pulling away from you, as his eyes were only slightly opened to find you stammering, face red with shock and yet, chasing his lips for more. He gently shook his head, smiling to himself as he caught his breath. "You really need to learn when to be quiet."

He watched as you barely registered his words, your eyes piercing into his until they went to his lips once more. "Uh-huh.. yeah.." you leaned in until your nose's were touching and he had to look away with a small chuckle as he placed his hands on your shoulders, giving you a quick kiss before turning back to the map, leaving you dumbfounded.

"So, where to next?" Hiccup pointed to the map, expecting you to play along as if nothing happened, making you stare at him wide-eyed. He tried to hide the smirk making its way on his lips as he rubbed his face as if trying to brush off a fly. "Something the matter, milady?"

He held back a chuckle as you cleared your throat, shifting closer to him as you held your chin high as if to regain your "dignity." "N-nope. Nothing at all." You cringed at the stuttering in your words, hoping he wouldn't notice:much to your dismay, he did, but did nothing to show it. You calmed yourself down as he started to ramble on the recent island they discovered, not yet seeing your gaze on him as admiration filled your eyes for the man you fell in love with - even his flaws.

[haechansdoll]

stress reliever - ljn x reader

Pairing : Lee Jeno x f!Reader

Description :You come home to find that your loving boyfriend is feeling particularly frustrated after a hard day's work. Making him feel better is the least that you can do!

Warnings : Light BDSM ,Dom/Sub, Vibrators, Bondage, Spreader Bars, degradation, rough sex, dirty talk, aftercare, Cunnilings.

From the moment that you felt the tumbler click and unlock the door, you could feel Jeno’s bad mood permeate the entirety of the apartment that you shared. He sat slumped over on the couch, glass of some dark colored liquor held in his fist as he glared at the floor. His usual gravity-defying hairdo was replaced by a messy bun, and if looks could kill, you’d be dead on the spot. Light music was wafting around the room, but he didn’t seem to be in tune with it like he usually was. 

You kicked off your shoes and dropped your work bag by the door before striding over to your sullen lover and placing a hand on his shoulder to try and stir him out of whatever thought spiral he had gotten himself into. You sat yourself next to him, being careful not to sit too close. Squeezing gently, you whispered his name and hardened citrine gazed back at you.

You couldn’t pretend to understand the grief and tragedy that had occured in his life up to this point. He would share tidbits here and there in a joking matter as if his trauma could be played off as a joke while his voice cracked and tears swarmed his eyes. He became easily frustrated with daily life, and his persona crashed down around him whenever the world around him became too much.

But tonight felt different. For one, he was home when you were home. With the three jobs that he worked, nights off were unheard of, and you always marked when he had any time off in your calendar to ensure that you would also be available. Spending time with him was a luxury that you tried not to squander. 

But as you gazed back at him, something felt different. He wasn’t upset...not that you could tell anyway. There was a strange anger and ferocity in his eyes that was new to you. You pushed forward as your body tingled with nervous excitement.

“Hey, Jeno? Do you...want to talk about anything?” You moved your hand from his shoulder to his unoccupied hand. “You know that I’m always here for you. Just let me know if I can help with anything.”

Both of you sat in an uncomfortable silence in that moment, just staring at each other until Jeno broke the silence by downing the rest of his drink and placing the glass on your coffee table.

“You can help me by getting your ass up the stairs and getting ready for me to take my frustrations out on that body of yours.”

His words shot straight to your core, a familiar warmth starting to bloom from just his words as his gaze sharpened. Oh. It was going to be a night like this.

He stood after his remark and moved to pour himself another drink, replacing the ice with a few whisky stones that you’d gotten him as a present from an occasion long past.

“And don’t let me beat you up the stairs. You know what happens then.”

With that, you all but bolted from the couch and up the stairs into the bedroom off the landing. When Jeno was feeling especially frustrated by work and life in general, he loved to take it out on your body. That being said, he normally preferred a slower pace to help himself relax, but rarely he really let himself go. Jeno was anything but vanilla, and you were excited to see how hard he would push you tonight.

You heard his footsteps from the staircase as you undressed as quickly as you could, getting ready to bare yourself completely for him. Your clothes fell in a rumpled heap at your feet as you undressed as quickly as you could, fingers trembling in anticipation.

You kicked the pile of unwanted clothes away from the bed as you heard the doorknob turn. Perching yourself on the edge of the bed, you watched as your lover stomped inside and admired how quickly you had gotten ready for him, eyes lingering over your chest and thighs.

“Such a good little slut I have. Already ready for me.” His voice wasn’t it's usually peppy self. The deep baritone made you quiver with want at his words. It was going to be a long night.

He took another swig of his drink before placing it on the bedside table and moving to take his shirt off over his head. It was quickly discarded in the same pile of your clothes, and he continued undressing and provided a simple command.

“Ass up, baby.”

You happily complied and got comfortable on all fours at the head of the bed as you heard Jeno stripping himself of his remaining garments. He then dropped to his knees by the side of the bed and pulled out the container that you used for...special occasions.

Hearing the latches click open caused your body to involuntarily clench at the possibilities, and you dropped your chest onto the bed to better present yourself to him. The bed gave slightly behind you as Jeno crawled up to your waiting form, electricity buzzing beneath your skin as his hands ran from your hips to your thighs and back up to your chest. 

Taking both pert nipples between his fingers, he rolled them gently between his index fingers and thumbs causing a low groan to escape your mouth as your chest arched to welcome his fingers. He chuckled darkly as your body reacted to his roaming fingers, tangling in your hair to hold you firmly in place and teasing past your lower abdomen to lightly stroke your sex. 

Bucking up to meet his hand was impossible with the grip that he used on your scalp. You whined quietly against the pillow that you rested on, your sex coating Jeno’s fingers as he dipped into your awaiting entrance with his middle and index fingers.

He stroked your twitching walls and used the hand that held onto your scalp to lace under your neck. Tugging your head up roughly, he applied the lightest pressure to your throat as you tried your best to fuck yourself on his fingers. He added a third finger and curled his fingers in just the right way that made you see stars, your hips working vigorously in tandem with his hand as your release built within you at a blinding pace. 

You began to moan his name in broken gasps, random syllables falling for your lips as he continued his assault on your lower body, your slick beginning to run down the tops of your thighs as you felt your orgasm within your grasp. Your walls began to clench sporadically, and you knew that you were about to fall over the edge.

He removed his fingers at that moment, causing you to sob involuntarily as you looked unsteadily back at him.

“What’s your safeword, babygirl?” He reached behind himself and positioned a few items within his grasp.

Confused, you parroted the word back to him in confirmation. Why ask this now?

“Good, good girl~” He cooed back at you with the gentlest tone that he had yet to use this evening. He used his tongue to lick a fat stripe from your aching hole to your clit where his tongue remained. He activated his quirk and caused his tongue to start to pulse and vibrate against your aching bud as you threw your head back with a cry of his name.

You were barely able to contain yourself as you felt his arms reach underneath your body and fasten restraints to the slats in the headboard before winding them around your wrists and pulling them taut to connect them. Your orgasm was rushing to meet you again as he sloppily ate out your cunt, using his tongue to pulse inside of you and back up to your clit as you squirmed against your new restraints.

Cruelly, he removed his tongue and used his knee to push your calves further apart to secure a spreader bar onto both ankles.

He removed all contact from your body and admired the way that your hole pulsed with need as you whined for him to do anything, absolutely anything , to get you over the edge. Your entire body swayed with want and for him to ravish you as he had done so many times before.

“Oh, babygirl. Tonight isn’t about you~” His voice was cold and teasing as his hand ran up your hip and grasped tightly at the skin there. He dropped his head to growl into your ear. “You’re going to stay here offering me your needy cunt until I decide that I’m finished. Or you use your safeword. Whichever comes first.”

You shivered involuntarily at his voice as he reached down again to palm your tits before slapping them gently to get your nipples to peak again. 

“Good girls do what they’re told, right?”

You whined in agreement, enjoying the way that he teased your body and eagerly awaited the way that he would be using you tonight.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait long for Jeno to pull your lower lips apart and watch as your cum drooled onto his waiting cock from your entrance. After stroking himself to fully coat his cock in your warm essence, he plunged into you to the hilt as you cried out his name loudly. He started a rough pace and used your ass as leverage to push and pull your hips to meet his. There was no warm up, no time to get accustomed to the stretch of his girth as it hammered inside of you.

His hips slammed against yours as he roughly fucked you. Your hands clawed at the sheets uselessly as he used your body to get himself off. Tonight, you were nothing but Jeno’s fucktoy, and it felt so good to be used like this. 

Your walls fluttered around him as he moved a hand to thumb at your clit, earning him a yelp as your chest dropped fully onto the bed.

“That’s right, baby. Clench around me harder. Let your body show how much you want me to come inside your slutty little hole.”

It was difficult to thrust back with your restraints, but you rocked as hard as you could to show how devoted you were to him. 

“Fuuu~ck--Jeno! I’m so c-close! I want your cum s-so badly! Please!” 

You begged like you never had before, babbling and desperate for him to let you come and feel his release fill you to the brim. He pinched the overstimulated bud between his fingers, and you finally tumbled over the edge all but shrieking his name. Stars exploded behind your eyes as you felt your hips bucking involuntarily to extend the orgasm that you’d need so desperately.

Your thighs attempted to close to protect yourself from the dull pain that came from his hand still attacking your clit, but your restraints kept you from doing so. With each flick of his finger, your walls clenched harder around his cock, and Jeno spilled soon afterwards with a gutteral moan. His fingers dug into your hips with bruising strength as your pussy clenched around him, coaxing him to spill as much of his seed into you as possible. 

You whined as he slipped his cock from you, his cum spilling out of you in tiny rivulets. Jeno took a few deep breaths to steady himself before reaching forward to stroke your cheek.

“Such a good girl for me. Now stay put. I’ll be back soon. Try not to let too much of my cum spill out of you.”

He stood and left the room after that, leaving you a panting, overstimulated mess as you came down from your first high of the night.

And the night continued like that, with Jeno sporadically coming into the room for another round or to tease another orgasm out of you.

The second time that he came into the room, he dipped his finger into the amber liquid of his cup before tracing patterns and shapes over the curve of your ass. His tongue followed the patterns that his fingers created, biting and marking the sensitive flesh with his teeth. More than once, he dipped his tongue into your cunt to taste you and used his quirk to tease you with vibrations until you were squealing and squirming and begging him to let you come. And every time you did, he removed his mouth and dipped his finger back into his glass again to enjoy the taste of his liquor and how it melded perfectly with how sweet you tasted.

The third time he came into the room was to just slip a bullet vibrator into your throbbing pussy before leaving again, remote in hand. He teased you relentlessly from outside of the room with various vibration patterns and pulses that had you seeing stars and coming over and over until your thighs were coated again with your own slick, much to Jeno’s amusement.

He had returned to remove the vibrator from your fluttering hole only to replace it with his throbbing cock as he jackhammered into you again, body curling over yours as he needily clawed your breasts. With breathy moans, he reminded you over and over that your hole belonged to him and he’d fuck you until you couldn’t walk. He wanted to fuck you stupid and until you only thought about how well his cock filled you. He wanted your greatest joy to be begging for his cum anytime that you saw him.

His release wasn’t long after as his cum mixed with yours as it painted you both inside and out, leaving you a sticky mess. He plunged a finger into your pussy then, scooping some of the gooey mixture onto the digit and commanding you to clean it off. You happily did so, and you were rewarded with praise as you diligently sucked until Jeno removed it from your mouth and exited the room leaving you positively exhausted.

You didn’t even notice the fourth time that he returned until his cock was firmly lodged back in you...what surprised you was the hole that he had chosen. Jeno was drilling into your ass as his balls messily slapped against your entrance, his hand pushing on your lower back to increase the arch and improve the angle that he was able to fuck into you with. How had you slept through all of his prep work? There wasn’t any pain or discomfort as he mercilessly plunged past the ring of muscle over and over again. 

You didn’t have much time to think as he plunged two fingers into your leaking entrance and curled them deliciously, causing you to clench around his cock and wail about how full he was making you. He realized that you had woken up at that point and removed his fingers only to shove them past your lips. You gagged on them as he pushed them as far as he could before sliding them back into your pussy and repeating the process. 

It didn’t take long until he unceremoniously unloaded into your ass with a grunt and moan as you bucked erratically against his fingers as you coaxed another orgasm out of your worn out body. He slid his softening cock from your ass only to watch as his cum spilled messily to mix with the current mess coating you. He kissed the marks that he had made previously and left again to let you doze off one more time.

You woke up again as you felt Jeno untying your wrists and ankles. He gently massaged both parts of your body as you stirred awake, barely coherent after the night that he had put you through. Your entire body ached as it was finally allowed to slump onto the bed, your limbs twitching involuntarily with the prolonged effort of keeping up with him throughout the night.

“I’ll be right back, baby.” Jeno placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head as you attempted to keep yourself from drifting away again. He returned quickly with a few warm, wet washcloths as he dabbed and cleaned your most sensitive areas with care. You apologized at your inability to help him, and he smiled down at you before moving your hair from your face.

“Oh, sweetheart. Don’t apologize. I’ve got it from here. You did all of the hard work earlier.” He finished his statement with a wink, and you giggled and relaxed as he continued to wipe down and massage your thighs. 

The next thing that he offered was a bottle of water, and you gulped down the cool liquid greedily before flopping back onto the bed. You winced as you realized how much of a mess you’d both made and whined at the thought of having to lie in your own mess tonight.

“Do you think that you’ll be okay for a quick bath, babygirl?” He asked as he cupped your face gingerly. You nodded in agreement as you held out both of your arms. He helped you wrap them around his neck and scooped you into his arms. 

The bath had already been drawn, and the smell of your bubble bath wafted towards you. Jeno delicately placed you into the warm water, and the sigh that left your lips turned into a yawn. He left the room with the promise of clean sheets and blankets upon your return as you soaked in the soothing water and let it relax your muscles.

It didn’t take him long to return, clad only in a clean pair of boxers as he knelt beside the tub. He guided you to lift your arms as he washed you, taking great care to avoid the marks that the restraints had left around your wrists. As he continued to wash your body, you couldn’t help your curiosity.

“How long was I tied up like that?”

“Only for a few hours. It’s almost midnight but not close.” He furrowed his brow as he moved to wash your hair next, brushing through it with his fingers to create a soft lather as he massaged your scalp.

You stared at him in astonishment as he guided your head under the spray of water from the faucet to rinse the shampoo out.

“I mean, you did take a couple of power naps in the middle.” You attempted to swat at him, but your arm felt too much like jelly to even reach any part of his body.

“I was rudely interrupted in the middle of my naps though. It explains why I’m so tired, Jeno.” Your comment didn’t have any bite to it, but Jeno indulged you by pretending to be offended for a moment. Your boyfriend helped you stand on shaky legs as he thoroughly towel dried you before scooping you back into his arms and walking back to the bed.

Jeno tucked you in on your side of the bed and turned off your bedside lamp before sliding under the blanket on his side. You scooted forward until he had both arms wrapped around you, his nose buried in the top of your hair as you relaxed in his arms. 

It took a few tries to get your mouth to cooperate as you felt your body drifting away. “Love you, Jeno.”

“I love you too, y/n. Forever and always.”

It didn’t take long for you to drift off, the rhythmic sound of his breathing acting as a lullaby as you fell into a deep slumber.

[fantasyandshit]

Tea time

Type:one shot

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Summary: Yn sees a new kind of tea while shopping at one of her favorite shops, come to find out it’s a strong form of aphrodisiac, reverting the drinkers to ‘their most primal instincts’. Not believing it she decides to make it for her and her mate as a joke.

(A/n, this is my first go at smut. I’m so sorry if it sucks. Also sorry I haven’t posted in forever, I had like zero ideas- this why I need y’all to help me, I can’t make decisions for myself. Anyway on too the Oneshot)

Azriel is out on yet another spymaster mission, so to kill a bit of time, I stroll through the isle of my favorite tea shop in Velaris, Trixies tea time shop. As I’m looking through the different teas I spot a box I’ve never seen before, it’s red and black, with a heart on the front, looking at the description to see what it tastes like I see something…interesting.

This is a drink to give you and your partner a once in a lifetime experience. The natural roots in this drink revert one to their most natural state, all while tasting like sweet and sour cherry.

I inspect the box for a few more moments before ultimately deciding to take it. My poor Az has been so stressed lately, maybe this could help him unwind and lead to a night of fun for the both of us, also wever tried nearly every method to get me pregnant as we desperately want a little one of our own. Besides what’s the harm if it’s simply a hoax. Taking the three new times I’ve grabbed to the desk, the woman-Trixie who I’ve made friends with smiles as she looks at the red and black box.

“So you’ve got plans for tonight?” She teases softly as she tells me my total. I roll my eyes before thanking her and walking back home.

———

“Hey Az baby?”

“Yes love?”

“I’ve made some tea for us.” I smile softly as I set it on the coffee table in front of where he sits reading on the couch.

“Thank you sweetheart.” One of his rare smiles save for me graces his lips as he kisses my head softly before picking up the glass and bringing it to his lips. “Hmm, this is new? What is it”

“Oh just a new one at Trixies I saw, figured we could give it a try.” I bring my own glass to my lips and we both simply sit in each others presence until we’re done and take them to the kitchen.

I lay with my head in Az’s chest moments later, his hand absently running through my hair as he continues his book. “Is it hot in here?” He asks out of the blue, pulling at the color of his shirt.

“Yeah, yeah I suppose a bit.” My eyebrows scrunched as I just now noticed the sweat dripping from his forehead and my own dripping down my back. I sit up as he continues clawing at his shirt. As he peals it off with a grunt more arousal then I thought I’d ever had sweeps through me like a wave.

As my mate turns to me I hear him audibly growl before he opens his mouth and I see his canines sharpening and his eyes darkening. “What-“ another grunt, “-what was in that tea?” His voice seems deeper and by the mother I’ve never thought this male could be this attractive.

“I-it said its to bring us to our most primal instincts-I didn’t think-I thought it was a hoax.” I’m panting as all I can think about is the man in front of me turning me into his bitch, filling my womb with his seed and giving me his babies.

“I think-I don’t think it’s a hoax love.” The last word growls and an involuntary moan leaves my lips as a smirk graces his features. “I don’t think-gods you don’t know how badly I want to put you on all fours and make you my bitch, get you nice and round with my babies. How much I want to fill your womb as you beg me to stop.”

I crawl to the male like a bitch in heat. “Do it Az. Make me your bitch.” I’ve never sounded more desperate or horny in my life as something flickers in my mates eyes and he lunges for me with a growl like a predator to pray, his hand landing on my throat as the other wonders my body.

“I’m gonna make you my bitch, gonna have you begging for my babies. Do you want my babies? Want to be big and round for me?” I nod breathlessly as his hand squeezes the supple skin of my thigh. “Words baby.” His hand squeezes my neck, just enough to have me struggling slightly for air.

“Y-yes sir. Please, fill me with your babies, get me nice and round.” Just like that the weight of his body is gone and all I can do is whine, my body feeling almost heavy.

“Take off your clothes and get on all fours.” He grunts as he takes his painfully hard cock from the restraints of his pants, that’s when I notice it, a swelling knot at the base of his dick. I make quick work of slipping from my restraining clothing and getting on all fours, my Butt slightly raised and pointed towards the male. “Good girl. Such a good girl for me.” His face goes to my neck as he rubs my back and thighs.

A yelp leaves me as he sniffs my pulse point before biting down. Hard. Just as he does this his hand shimmies to my clit, rubbing softly before delving to my folds, spreading the soaked lips and feeling around them as I moan uncontrollably. He takes his fingers and brings them to my lips, “open.” I immediately obey and he sticks them in my mouth, I moan at the taste of myself on tongue as I suck his fingers like a whore. “Now here’s what’s gonna happen, I’m gonna fuck you so hard you can’t walk, I’m gonna fill you with my seed and make sure you know who owns you.”

“Yes sir.”

“Say it again.”

“Sir.”

A throaty moan leaves my mate just before he pushes into my slick folds and my head falls back in pure ecstasy.

Azriel pounds into me, his lips assaulting my neck as moans and grunts leave us both, at this point he’s fucked me in nearly every position, his cum dripping down my thighs as he pushed in again and again from behind me where I lay on my stomach. Bite marks litter both our skins, particularly near our pulse points where a delicious scent I’ve never smelt before radiates from him. “Gonna, gonna cum baby.” He sighs as he furiously drags himself in and out of my tight pussy, a ring of cream at the base of his knot. His words finish off my building orgasm as I cum hard enough to see stars. Azriel lets out one last chesty moan before his knots slips into me and I get dizzy, never have I been this full as he paints my wall with yet another load.

My mate falls to his side, me going with him seeing as we’re attached, however I don’t think I would be able to move on my own without him anyway. Az pulls me tight to his chest, nuzzling his face in my neck softly as he slowly falls asleep, snores falling from his parted lips.

——————-

I know it sucks but I tried ok. Please give me ideas guys! My suggestion box is open and in need of some good ideas. Love y’all.

[mumms-the-word]

In the Company of Wolves

Characters: Solas x fem!Lavellan Summary: Solas spends part of the evening at Halamshiral admiring Iren and pondering the similarities between an Orlesian masquerade and ancient Arlathan. When he's not being grim and fatalistic about it all, he's imagining a few naughty things he would like to do with Iren, should the evening give them a chance. Basically it's a whole lot of Solas pining and pondering and wishing, at least for one night, that he were not the Dread Wolf after all. A/N: Some of this is inspired by information we learn in Dragon Age: The Veilguard, but does not contain any Veilguard spoilers. Also, tried something new with verb tenses and flashbacks. I haven't decided if I like it yet, but an attempt was made! AO3 link if you want to read it there! MDNI 18+ even though most of the smut is relatively tame (teasing and such, you know)

Solas cradled a glass of wine in his hand, lifting it to his lips as he watched the Orlesian nobility wandering past. Each one was dressed in their finest silks and brocades, buttons and buckles gleaming, feathers floating, jewels sparkling. There was more wealth in one antechamber or narrow hallway here than in whole towns and villages around Orlais and Ferelden. And as was the fashion, the requirement of Orlais, every single one of them was masked, their faces covered with thin plaster or porcelain, paper-mâché or paint, imitating lips and noses and mustaches and carefully plucked brows. Faces upon faces. Falsehoods upon falsehoods.

It was as familiar as it was foreign. Had he come here alone, had there not been any threat of Corypheus and his Venatori conspirators, he would have been content to watch and observe. Smile to himself at the frivolous concerns of a nobility that cared more for their appearances than anything else and stand unseen and quietly amused at how seriously they conducted their clandestine affairs in half-hidden alcoves and darkened stairwells.

In this sea of masks, it was all too easy to believe they were little more than mindless animals, prettied and painted up to appear as intelligent creatures. If he wasn’t careful, everything would seem as a dream, each person drifting by as no more than a blur of meaningless color. Not real. Completely beneath his notice.

But then she would appear again, sweeping quietly through the hall, and the world would sharpen into focus again.

Iren. His vhenan.

She stood out among the crowd as easily as a single star in a void of night. Whereas everyone else here was dripping with color, turning about the room in their jewel tones, vibrant satins, and complex patterns, she was dressed simply and elegantly in a white dress of soft linen and breezy chiffon that left much of her sides and all of her arms bare. A brushed gold collar and matching thin belt gave the dress shape and held it close to her body, preserving all the necessary modesty that the court required, though her bare arms and sides had already been the subject of several scandalized whispers. Solas alone had overheard a handful of remarks here in this hall where he lingered, so he could only imagine the talk that went on in the ballroom proper. The court was undecided on which was the most offending detail, the sight of her bare skin or the dark red vallaslin she wore so boldly on her face, a vallaslin that also adorned her back and curled gently beneath her collarbone, faintly visible even beneath two layers of chiffon over linen.

She was ornamented lightly with gold in the same brushed finish as her collar and belt—a golden armband around one bicep, a set of simple thin bangles around both wrists, earrings that threaded thin chains between her earlobe and piercings that sat halfway up the line of her pointed ears. And of course the thin ring she always wore in her lip, the gold indenting her bottom lip and drawing the eye there every time. She had painted her hands with dark henna, a pattern of swirls that matched the markings of Sylaise on her face and darkened the tips of each finger to a shade of dark rust red. Crowning it all was a gold headdress of sorts, shaped in curving lines to form a pair of halla antlers that stretched back from her head.

She looked like a long-forgotten goddess among distracted mortals, a being from an ancient empire whom nobody could remember. She appeared simultaneously as a creature out of place and a being that rose above as something more.

She looked like one of the ancient elvhen.

No. He smiled to himself. Even among the nobility of ancient Arlathan she would have stood apart. There, the nobility had been just as opulent and colorful. More so, in fact, when Arlathan was at the height of its power. Iren, in all her simplicity, wearing only white and gold, would have appeared not as one of the Evanuris, but as something set apart. Something not even they would know what to do with.

He doubted she knew the effect her appearance had on those around her. She had wanted simple and she had gotten it, for better or worse. For here, simplicity was an outlier. Here, simplicity was rare.

Simplicity meant every eye was on her now, rather than passing over her.

As she drifted by him again, offering him a small smile that he returned as she made her way toward the gardens, he recalled how nervous she had been in the days leading up to this ball.

She paces his rotunda restlessly as she frets over the ambassador’s choice of fashion and uniform. “She’s talking about corsets and laces now, Solas.”

“Oh? Has our ambassador already selected your outfit for the evening?”

“She’s working on it.” She stops with a sigh, resting a hand on a stack of books that stand on his desk. “I requested her to go as simple as possible, but I’m not sure she understands what that word actually means.”

He laughs at that and takes her hand from his books, raising it to his lips for a gentle kiss. “Lady Josephine can be reasoned with, after a fashion. She will honor your wishes if you communicate them clearly.”

“I just want to be��comfortable,” she says. But he knows that isn’t the word she wants to say. She wants to be helpful. She wants to heal hurts and move on. She wants to be invisible. She wants to be herself. It is, in part, why she is so drawn to Cole, and so protective over him. If she were a spirit, she would be Compassion.

But she is flesh and blood, and the Inquisition needs an Inquisitor. Who better than the woman who heals the sky and who stops the pain of every conflict ravaging the land?

He gently pulls her in close for a soft kiss. “Whatever you wear, you will be beautiful, my heart. You always are.”

And she was. The light of hundreds of candles illuminated golden light over her warm, dusky skin as if to cast her in polished bronze. The dark red of her vallaslin and henna added an enchanting, otherworldly effect to her natural beauty that these Orlesians, in all their paints and powders, didn’t know what to make of.

So as with anything they did not understand, they warped fear and curiosity into scorn and hostility.

Primitive. Rabbit. Savage. Knife-ear. Witch. The nobles used these words so carelessly, as though the sight of her bare skin and unmasked face were an open invitation. Like wolves, they surrounded her, thinking they scented blood, ready to sink their teeth into her flesh and tear her to shreds. They saw the halla antlers that adorned her head and thought her a prize beast to fell in a hunt.

She had predicted that.

He steps into her rented room in the city of Halamshiral, nodding quietly to the assistants who are putting the final touches on her face. A subtle dusting of shimmering powder on her eyelids, a line of dark kohl around her eyes, and a dark red stain on her lips, just a shade or two darker than that of her vallaslin and henna. Iren sees him in the mirror and dismisses the assistants with a smile.

“What do you think?” she asks, standing as the others file out of the room, leaving them alone. “I doubt I’ve ever worn this much finery in my entire life. This part in particular seems a little excessive.”

She touches the golden horns that curve and curl back from her head, an elegant mimicry of halla antlers to remind the court of her proud Dalish heritage. Her dark hair has been carefully arranged to cover the headbands that keep them secure on her head, the rest of her long tresses left to fall loose down her back and over her shoulders. He clasps his hands behind his back and smiles.

“You wear them well,” he says. “And the court will certainly have opinions about them.”

“Of course. I can’t wait for someone to call me a halla rider and think it’s a compliment. I’d almost rather they just insult me outright.”

Her eyes drift away from him, toward a painting that hangs on one wall. A group of Orlesian nobility dressed in the fashion of the age long since passed, gathered as a hunting party, their bows drawn. At their feet and beside the fine horses, sleek gray hunting hounds lead them through the forest. Their prey, a white halla with silver horns.

“They hunt them for their pelts and antlers, you know,” she says quietly. “In Orlais, a single halla is worth a fortune. Dead, of course. No point in capturing the creature alive.”

He says nothing. He is all too aware of the destructive tendencies of a people who would rather attack first than seek to understand, to appreciate, to learn. After a moment, Iren purses her lips, playing idly with the bangles around one wrist.

“I wonder what they will think of me.”

“They will think you are simple and easily defeated.” He smiles. “And like the stubborn, clever halla, who has no doubt felled many an arrogant Orlesian hunter, you will prove them wrong.”

She had said nothing to that, but he had seen how she entered the main ballroom, how she had navigated the first hour of the masquerade. As they thought, the nobility here watched her with predatory stares, eager to pounce on a single mistake. They tittered behind their fans and perfumed the air with cruel whispers. They murmured ridicule just low enough to sit at the edge of one’s hearing,

She had acted as though they hadn’t spoken, keeping her back straight and her chin high as she entered the ballroom on the Grand Duke’s arm. She had curtsied to Empress Celene, walked a confident circuit of the ballroom, and made it out into the hallway where Solas had taken up a place in one corner. It wasn’t until she had slipped her hand in his that he noticed the tremor in her fingers, the fine trembling tension that sang in her body as her blood thrummed with adrenaline and fear. On the surface, she had kept all of that hidden away.

He was the only one who knew how terrified she was.

“You will be fine, vhenan. And I will be here if you need me.”

But she didn’t need him. Or at the very least, she had no need to rely on him as a wounded man might rely on a crutch. She was, above all, adaptable and clever, and she had a natural grace and elegance that made her seem nearly at home among the more civilized Orlesians. They still derided her, of course. But they found very little purchase for their barbed words and veiled insults.

He watched her through the window as she perched on one of the railings that lined two sides of the Winter Palace garden, only a few feet away from him. The only things separating them were clear glass panels, but she didn’t look his way. She sipped from a glass of wine and pretended to find something interesting in the statuary of the fountain, but he knew she was listening for secrets. Feigning indifference or boredom to lure others into a false sense of security, where they may let slip something vital within earshot.

But then, as he watched, she lifted a hand and traced one finger against a spot on her neck, beneath her hair.

Ah. He smiled again. Perhaps her mind was not as much on the mission as he thought.

She turns to look again in the mirror of that room in Halamshiral. Her eyes are on the halla horns she wears, contemplating his words about proving the court wrong. He comes up softly behind her and wraps his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. Beside her, he looks pale and sharp, his indigo eyes darkened by the falling evening light. Still weak. A shadow of what he had once been. A humble disguise he didn’t even have to fabricate.

He focuses on her instead, admiring the curve of her brows over her dark brown eyes, the shape of her lips when she purses them faintly as she considers the two of them in the mirror.

He presses a slow kiss to her bare shoulder. “You will be the envy of all the court, ma vhenan.”

Her lips flicker with a darkly amused smile. “No, I won’t. Even with all this finery, I have no doubt I’ll be the most underdressed guest at the masquerade.”

He hums into her skin as he brushes another kiss against her shoulder. “But you are beautiful. You are enchanting. I doubt even the empress herself could compare.”

“Only to you, perhaps.”

To that he says nothing. Instead, he carefully moves aside the long, dark hair that trails over her shoulder, pushing it back to bare her throat above her golden collar. From his place behind her, he has easy access to the space just below and behind her long, slender ear, and it is there that he kisses now, lathing his tongue against her neck before gently taking her skin between his teeth in little nips. She relaxes against him, nearly melting, listing her head to one side to give him better access.

“Solas…” His name is a sigh, a breath from her lungs.

“Relax, my heart,” he purrs against her throat.

One of his hands finds purchase in her skirt, slowly and carefully drawing it up until his fingers brush against warm skin rather than cool fabric. He brushes his fingers up the inside of her thigh, inching closer and closer to her heat, only to smooth his touch back down and away. Teasing and tempting, the game they play, have played, since that first kiss in the Fade. She shifts, parting her legs to give him better access as she leans back against him, but he ignores the invitation. They don’t have time for what he wants, what he has planned. It would have to wait. For now, though…

He flicks his gaze back toward the mirror, watching her eyes flutter closed as his fingertips brush featherlight against her inner thigh again, close but not quite where she wants him. He sees himself in the reflection, too, his lips pressed against her skin as he sucks a dark mark onto her throat just below her ear. He watches them both, his gaze hungry, intense, while she relaxes back against him with her head to one side. The halla antlers curve back over their shoulders, glinting in the warm evening light. As the last of the daylight falls, shadows creeping into the room, his pupils reflect gold-green, a predator’s gaze in the dark.

If they had a few moments more…

A knock at the door brings him back to his senses.

“Are you ready, Inquisitor? We are gathering outside at the carriages now.”

The ambassador’s voice. Iren shifts as if to draw away, but Solas wraps an arm tighter around her, determined to finish what he started with the mark on her neck. “Y-yes,” she calls. “I’ll be down in a moment!”

He listens for the telltale sound of a latch being thrown at the door, but instead they hear footsteps drawing away. Satisfied, he finally lifts his head, brushing her hair away to admire his work.

There, just below her ear, a red love mark almost dark enough to match the red of her vallaslin and henna. By the end of the night, it will be bruise purple. A semi-permanent mark of his own making. One more adornment to add to her finery.

He smiles and rearranges her hair to cover the mark, hiding it from view. A secret, just for them.

Back in the garden, she seemed to catch herself and dropped her hand in her lap, idly rubbing the fabric of her dress between her thumb and forefinger. She had chided him when she caught a glimpse of the mark in the mirror. But her hair hid the bruise, so long as she kept it over her shoulder, as she did now. No one knew it was there, except for the two of them.

She turned her head again, following the sound of some whispered secret or another. With her dark profile set against the white and blue of the Winter Palace, he was free to admire the curve of her aquiline nose and the plump shape of her lips. Strong features. Regal features. You would not have found them among the nobility of the ancient Elvhen, who favored delicate noses and pointed chins, large eyes and small mouths. But the ancient Elvhen had not made her.

She was a product of this world. The world he had been forced to create and had hated with each step in its hollow realm. Millennia of elves fighting, surviving, fleeing, dying, carving out an existence in a world that should have been their ready inheritance, all funneled down to the happy accident of her birth, her creation. Solas hated the Dalish for the same reasons he hated the Orlesians—their arrogance in thinking they knew the world, knew their own history, better than any outsider might. But for all that he disliked the Dalish, they had done one thing right.

They had made her.

She was so beautiful. But that wasn’t the only thing that had drawn him in. She was kind and empathetic; she felt every emotion too deeply, raw and ragged, even as she was forced to suppress it all to maintain her solid facade as the Inquisitor. And she was stubborn, too, as immovable as a rock in a churning sea. She didn’t stop until a task was complete and someone got the aid they needed, whether that be healing a wound, clearing out bandits in a fortress, or saving a wayward druffalo. She sought wisdom and guidance when she needed it, but once her mind was set, there was no persuading her.

But she wasn’t reckless. If anything, she was patient, selfless to a fault, watching everyone else and planning ways to help them, often at the expense of herself. He recognized these traits easily. He shared them, or he had once, when the world was different. When the Evanuris ruled, and these traits were what he had aspired to. Kindness. Patience. Resilience. Selflessness. She bore these traits better than he ever had.

His stare must have been more piercing or intense than he intended. She turned her head, as if feeling the weight of his gaze, and their eyes locked through the panes of glass that separated them. He offered her a light toast with his goblet, a smile playing on his lips.

To your hunt, ma vhenan.

A hint of a smile flickered on her plump lips. She pretended not to notice his toast, turning her head away again. But then she gathered her hair carefully over one shoulder, bearing her neck toward him. Bearing the side that was, as of yet, blemish free. He saw her dark eyes flick back toward him, trying to gauge his reaction in the corner of her eye.

An open invitation, or a tease. Solas suppressed a smirk.

He wasn’t certain whether it was the wine or the atmosphere or some other terrible influence that was weakening his resolve, but the sight of her skin, offered so freely, tempted him almost beyond his control. He longed to pull her aside into some hidden shadowed corner and make a mark to match the one she already wore beneath one ear. To guide her away, his hand on her hip, fingers brushing over her bare waist, while the eyes of the court followed them and whispered about how dreadfully forward the Inquisitor’s elven serving man was being, to touch her so openly and boldly. Then to find a private corner away from all else and press her back against the cold marble of some column or wall, inhaling her surprised gasp as he closed the distance between them for a kiss, slipping his hands through the opening of her dress to the smooth planes of her back.

If this were any other party, if they were there for any other reason than to stop a madman’s agents from threatening chaos over an entire nation, he might give in to such fantasies. It would be all too tempting, once he had her there in those imagined, stolen moments, to lose himself to her henna-stained touch. To guide her fingers to the buttons of his coat and press in close, hiking her skirts up just enough to slip his thigh between her bare legs and leave her with nowhere to go, save closer to him. Her sex against him. Her perfect breasts heaving against him. Her panting breaths mingling with his.

They’d have to get rid of the halla antlers, of course, if he was going to make such ample use of the wall to satisfy them both. Pull them free from her hair and toss them aside as he caught the skin of her neck between his teeth again. A halla caught in the jaws of a wolf…

His smirk faded as the thought, unbidden, bitter, sarcastic, invaded his fantasy. What was that old Dalish curse? May the Dread Wolf take you? And now the fantasy was ruined, as reality crashed down around him. A reality of his own making.

Not that she had any way of knowing the irony. Here, she thought the Orlesian nobility were like wolves, crowding around her on the hunt for blood. If she had any idea who he was, who he had been, would she bare herself so openly to him? Would she look at him the way she did these days? With nothing but tenderness and care, and perhaps more than a little hunger of her own? No. If she ever truly knew…

There was no one here to warn her save himself. And he could not. It would risk everything, ruin everything, and it…it was too soon.

Even so, he could all too easily imagine the whispers that would follow her if his secret was known. Old Dalish warnings and snide comments from the ancient elvhen, allies of the Evanuris, mingled together in his mind.

See how the Dread Wolf stares at her, so lurid and open. See how his great, fanged jaws salivate for a taste of her flesh. Cavort not with wolves, young elvhen, lest you fall prey to their charms. For He Who Hunts Alone may devour you, if you let him draw close, and then where will you be?

He tightened his grip on his glass of wine and then, after a moment, set it aside. This masquerade brought too much of the old Solas out of him. All this courtly intrigue, this heady blend of power, intrigue, danger, and sex, it all felt so familiar that he could easily conjure the sort of talk the elvhen would have said, had said, about him.

Some things never changed. The scorn was the same, it was only the words that differed. And here, just as it was then, the powerful preyed on the weak and boasted their victories prematurely, while others lay in wait for their chance to usurp, to upset the balance, to rebel and create change.

Like his Inquisitor, he supposed. For all his wine-muddled thoughts about wolves and halla, predators and prey, Iren was ultimately neither. Though she wore the halla antlers for the sake of costuming and carried herself with the elegance of nobility, and though she was on the hunt for agents of the Elder One to stop his plans before they even began, she did not fit so easily in these categories. She was neither halla, nor noble, nor huntress.

She was what she had professed to be from the start, when she had first introduced herself to him. A shepherd guarding her flock. A Dalish Keeper in training.

Therein lay the true irony. He should have seen it from the beginning.

“I am surprised you offered to stand watch,” he says, approaching her as she sits by the campfire in the midst of the Ferelden Hinterlands. After only two weeks of knowing her, she remains a mystery. Beautiful. Gifted in magic and in healing. Quiet, but stubborn. She is the bearer of the Anchor, a gift that should never have been hers, but which she has learned to use with surprising rapidity. But as with so many others in this world, she still seems a little unreal. Unfinished. Unrefined.

Yet he can’t help but be drawn to her, at least a little. The warm tones of her skin, the soft fall of her dark russet hair, the ring she wears in her lip that never fails to draw his gaze. The way she tilts her head, listening closely to his words when he speaks. The way her eyes flash with surprising anger when someone attempts to dissuade her from a path she has chosen to take. There are hints of cleverness within her he wants to see more of, despite knowing that what he ought to do is keep himself distanced and aloof.

At his casual remark, she looks up at him, the glow of the firelight warming her dusky skin. “Pardon?”

“I would not have expected one of the Dalish mages to be accustomed to the task,” he says, by way of explanation. “I suspect most of them sleep comfortably while their hunters do all the watching…and lose all the sleep.”

“Oh, on the contrary,” she says, smiling dryly. “In my clan, the Keeper, the First, and the Second each take one of the three night watches with the hunters. The Keeper always takes the first watch, then the First takes the middle watch, and the Second the third watch early in the morning. In Clan Lavellan, there is always a mage awake and relatively alert every hour of the night. Just so you know, the middle watch is the worst.”

He tilts his head. These Dalish clans never do the same thing twice, he’s found. “Fascinating. And what do you keep watch for? Bandits and wolves, like your hunters do? Or are you there to watch for demons?”

Her dry smile is still on her lips, but it shifts. “Any of it. Among other things.”

She twists a thick sylvanwood ring on her first finger, carved to depict a wolf flanked on either side by delicate elven figures. The elves face away from the wolf, as if marching toward a destination not depicted on the ring. He recognizes the scene instantly. A depiction of the Betrayal. Or at least, how the Dalish remember it.

It was a gift from her Keeper to guide her on the way to the Conclave, she had once told him, the first time he had noticed the ring. A reminder of the people she left behind. A people she hopes one day to return to and eventually to lead.

“Anyone can watch for bandits,” she continues. “But we were meant to watch for something else. Someone else.”

She twists the ring on her finger again. He knows the answer even before the name crosses her lips, a title he will never be able to escape, not even in death.

“Fen’Harel. The Dread Wolf. It is our job to keep him from leading our people astray.”

If she only knew…

No. It would shatter her. She would be left ashamed and embarrassed, or worse, betrayed. He would lose her in an instant.

He would never be able to tell her the truth. No matter how much he longed to. No matter how much he saw in her the traits and strengths and the determination that he himself had once exemplified in his early days of rebellion. If this were another time, another place, perhaps then he could bring himself to trust her with the truth. But those days were long gone. Elvhenan was gone. He had destroyed it.

How different would things be, would things have been, if she were there in the days of the Elvhenan empire? Would she have sided with him in rebellion, or clung to Sylaise as a devoted follower or slave? He doubted sincerely that she would be content in slavery, content to sit idly by while people suffered the whims of the powerful and the corrupt. If she had been born in the time of ancient Arlathan, if she had been part of his rebellion against the Evanuris, if he had been drawn to her in the days after Mythal, would she have been able to find a better solution that he could not see at the time? Would her wisdom have shown her better paths?

Would he even have listened?

That was the real question, and he knew the answer. He wouldn’t have. He hadn’t listened to the friends he’d had. And even now, seeing what world he had created, he wasn’t entirely certain that if he had the chance to go back and correct his mistakes he would choose any differently.

All this, to stop powerful tyrants and would-be gods…

“Solas?”

He blinked, drawn from his brooding thoughts by the sound of Iren’s voice. She stood now just a few steps away, waiting for him to see her. And as before, the world crystallized with her at the center. Everything made a little more real.

He softened his brooding expression as best he could. “Ah. My apologies, vhenan. My mind was…elsewhere.”

She fought a smile, but he could see it twitching at the corners of her mouth, her lip ring glinting in the candlelight. Unbidden, his thoughts were drawn there, focused and warm. He wanted to catch the ring between his teeth and tug gently at her lip while his hands pulled her flush against him. He wanted—but then she smiled, amused, and he realized how brazenly he stared at her mouth.

“I can guess where your mind was,” she murmured. “But…later. We still have work to do.” She stepped closer and lowered her voice even further. “No matter how much I might wish otherwise.”

“Indeed,” he breathed. Better that she thought his mind wholly distracted by her than to suspect him of other treachery. And, if he were honest, it was all too easy for his mind to turn, again and again, to the subject of her beauty, in praise of her figure, lost in fantasies of what he would do if he didn’t fear the consequences so much. He cleared his throat gently. Back to work. “How goes your search?”

“Something is happening in the servant’s wing nearest the ballroom,” she said, keeping her voice quiet, lest anyone try to overhear. “It has me worried about the elven servants…”

“You think they are involved?”

“I think they’re being killed, and that worries me.” She gnawed at the corner of her upper lip a moment. Then she forced a little smile, as if they were once more flirting, their words meaningless and shallow. “Can I interest you in a distraction soon?”

“You are already a distraction, ma vhenan,” he said softly, taking the risk, despite all the eyes and ears potentially turned their way, of taking her hand and lifting it for a brief kiss. “But I understand your question. I would be very interested. And I am ready whenever you are.”

“Good. The door in the next room, down the stairs, to your left. I’ll have it unlocked soon. Meet me there in a few moments.”

“As you say.”

“And…Solas?”

“Yes, vhenan?”

She hesitated, the first obvious sign of reluctance or even doubt he had seen in the time since they’d entered the grounds of the Winter Palace. Her hand was still in his. In her hesitant silence, she gave his fingers a fierce, firm squeeze, as if she were nervous and seeking reassurance.

“Nothing,” she said quietly. “I’m just…I’m glad you’re here with me. That’s all. I don’t think I could do all of this without you.”

And just like that, he remembered just how mortal, how fragile she was compared to the elvhen, the Evanuris, compared even to himself, weakened as he now was. This was not Arlathan. She was not one of the People. She was Dalish, part of a quickened race of elves who forgot everything and clung to legends and fanciful stories as if they were true history.

And he loved her. His foolish bleeding heart couldn’t help but love her. Try as he might to harden his heart, to remain callous, distanced, cold, neutral, he couldn’t. With her hand in his, drawing strength and courage from his touch, her warm brown eyes earnestly seeking his to convey not just gratitude, but love, her plump lips holding the hint of a smile meant just for him and no one else, how could he do anything but love her? As she was. Mortal. Dalish.

Real.

He wished he could be anything but the Dread Wolf in that moment. That he could be nothing other than an odd, wandering, elven apostate, a scholar of the Fade. That he could set everything aside and be what she needed him to be, nothing more, nothing less. That this night would end with a victory, in some form or fashion, and her hand once more in his as he led her to a private room to celebrate. No more danger of the Dread Wolf leading the Dalish Keeper astray. Just a man in love with a woman and proving his love with searing touches and whispered words. He would give anything to be just that, to be the man she believed him to be.

She saw the best in him. He wanted so dearly to live up to her vision.

Perhaps, for tonight, he could try.

Let there be other wolves. For one night, let him be as he began, simply Solas, and as he wished to become, a man devoted to his heart’s desire. His Inquisitor. His Iren.

He lifted her hand to his lips for another kiss, reverent and slow, a silent response to her remarks. Then he let her go, watching as she slipped her hand reluctantly from his and drew away; watching as the eyes of Orlesian nobles and elven servants alike turned to follow her as she left the room.

She had nothing to fear from them. She had already faced worse than an Orlesian court. Like so many other obstacles she had already faced and overcome, she would find a way forward, a way to help those who needed help, a way to stop the Elder One from sowing chaos. She would succeed, one way or another, because that was simply what she did. She could handle a few predatory glares and poisonous whispers, in light of all that.

She would be fine. She had grown accustomed to the company of wolves, for better or for worse, whether she knew it or not.

But for tonight, he would not be another among them.

[kentuckyfriedsatan]

🍁Midnight Secrets🍁

Not part of Kinktober, so completely sfw!

No warnings that I could think of, maybe a bit of anxiety because of a misunderstanding

Read it here or on Ao3!

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🍂๋࣭ 🦇⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Phantom has always been a bit wary of Mountain and Aether since being summoned. Sure, they’re kind, but their size and intensity can be… unsettling for someone new to the pack.

Lately, though, things have gotten even weirder. He keeps catching them whispering in hushed tones whenever he enters the room, and they’ve been sneaking off together during the evenings. It’s the looks they give him that are the worst. Whenever they see him, they exchange these knowing glances, like they’re hiding something.

One night, Phantom overhears part of their conversation and nearly jumps out of his skin when he catches Aether saying, “We’ll need something sharp for this. It has to be perfect.” Mountain rumbles in agreement: “Sharp is good. We don’t want it falling apart before we’re done.”

Phantom’s anxiety skyrockets. Sharp? Falling apart? His imagination runs wild-are they planning to do something to him? Are they going to ambush him? He remembers how Mountain’s massive hands could easily crush anything, but he can’t really imagine them being this sinister.

Over the next few days, Phantom can’t shake his suspicions. He keeps catching them making these cryptic comments like, “We’ll need to hide it,” or “It’s not good enough yet, but we’ll finish it soon.” And one day, he stumbles across Mountain’s bag left carelessly on a chair-inside, he sees long, pointed objects wrapped in yarn. Phantom’s eyes widen. Knives? Or worse? The growing dread in his chest is hard to ignore.

They’ve also started closing off one of the towers and locking the door whenever they sneak in there at night. Phantom knows something is up. He tries to convince himself he’s just overthinking it, maybe they’re working on a project? But every time they exchange those glances and drop vague hints about “hiding the evidence” and “covering their tracks,” he can’t help but feel like he’s the target.

Finally, after hearing them whisper about “midnight being the perfect time,” Phantom decides to take matters into his own hands. He’s going to follow them and see what they’re really up to.

That night Phantom quietly follows them up to the old tower. His heart pounds in his chest as he creeps closer to the door. He can hear muffled voices inside, along with soft music and the occasional clatter of… something. Are they sharpening weapons? He swallows hard and presses his ear to the door, catching snippets of their conversation.

“I hope this doesn’t make him uncomfortable,” Aether says softly.

“Yeah,” Mountain replies, his deep voice rumbling through the walls. “It’s going to be a bit snug, but I think he’ll like it once he gets used to it.”

Phantom’s pulse races. Snug? What are they planning to trap him in?!

Gathering his courage, he pushes the door open, ready to confront them. But what he finds is far from the dark ritual or sinister plot he’d imagined.

Inside the tower, Mountain and Aether are seated comfortably by a large, crackling fireplace. They’re surrounded by colorful yarn, knitting needles, and a half-finished sweater lying across Mountain’s lap. The music playing is soft and soothing, casting a warm, peaceful atmosphere over the room. Two mugs of tea seem to have been abandoned on a little table.

Phantom blinks, completely stunned. Mountain is clumsily but carefully knitting what looks like a sweater, his massive hands awkwardly holding the delicate needles. Aether, more practiced, is working on a detailed design-a bat in the center of the otherwise purple sweater.

They both look up at him, startled.

“Phantom?” Mountain says, his eyes wide with surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“I—uh…” Phantom stammers, completely thrown off by the sight. “I thought… you were… plotting something?”

Aether chuckles, shaking his head. “Plotting to finish this sweater before it gets too cold outside, maybe.”

Phantom stares, speechless, as Mountain holds up the nearly completed sweater.

“We’ve been working on this for you,” Mountain says with a small grin. “A little welcome gift. We noticed you like bats.”

Phantom feels a mixture of confusion and embarrassment well up inside him.

“Wait… this is what you’ve been whispering about? Knitting?”

Aether nods. “We didn’t want you to find out too soon, so we kept sneaking off to work on it in secret. We thought it’d be a nice surprise.”

Phantom flushes, a wave of relief and amusement washing over him.

“So when you said it needed to be sharp and not fall apart…”

Mountains laugh is rich and deep.

“We were talking about the knitting needles and making sure the seams held together. Knitting can be a bit tricky for big hands.”

Phantom finally starts to relax, realizing how absurd his suspicions had been. The warm glow from the fireplace fills the room with a golden light, casting flickering shadows on the walls as the soft sound of knitting needles clinks in the background. Mountain hands him the nearly finished sweater, and Phantom runs his fingers over the soft material, a smile tugging at his lips.

“You made this… for me?” Phantom asks to confirm, his voice soft.

“We wanted you to feel like part of the group,” Mountain explains, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s getting colder, and we figured you’d need something warm. And the bat’s because, well… we know you love them.”

His heart swells, they noticed what he likes, and they remembered.

And for the rest of the night, Phantom sits with his pack mates, learning how to knit by the light of the fire as the autumn wind whispers outside. The nervous tension he’d carried for days melts away, replaced with a deep sense of belonging and peace.

The sweater wasn’t just a sweater. It was a gesture of acceptance. It meant he isn’t just the new guy anymore. He is part of the pack.

[aluria-sevhex]

I BEAT THE GAME

a solid 3rd of my ISAT notes on my phone are just from 'today' (writing this past midnight lol)

my ISAT masterpost

every post in this series is also tagged as #Aluria plays ISAT for the first time (please don't spoil)

please note that there's a bunch of notes in this post because i was still in Act 3 at the beginning of this post lol

-i'm not playing it rn but i have decided to break my 'no looking stuff up' rule so i know where to go to make Sif rember what they say when carving stuff

[WRITING TUMBLR POST ALURIA NOTE: i later looked up maps of the House to help me keep track of stuff lol]

-ok now i know. i like figuring things out myself but i could not fucking remember lol.

-i have a really long car ride so. MORE ISAT

-title theme shout-out

-Sif tripped on a rock. "you're clumsy and not at all threatening and overpowered compared to them!" :(

-they almost forgot to catch Isa :(

-dang, Siffrin didn't say nya this time D:

-hehe they hit it back. one could say it's a... COUNTER-attack B)

-SIFFRIN GHOST ON THE WAY TO THE DORM

-WAIT FUCK DID I FORGET THE SHARPENING STONE

-fuck it i was planning to loop back after finding out what to say anyway

-ah don't i also need to find more i fo on the King somewhere? eh i can do that on the next loop... so much to keep track of...

-LMAO. THE PHRASE SIF SAYS. "please don't look bad please don't look bad please don't look bad" BIG FUCKING MOOD TBH

-Sif on his way to talk to their tools and project while carving or sharpening:

-aight time to die lmao

-Loop my belooped

-hm... it's Loop's job to remember Siffrin's mistakes...

-"you don't have to remember to yell' always gets me :(

-I FOUND THE ARTICLES

-ok so currently i'm thinking that the King and Siffrin are probably from the same place. which may or may not be where Loop is from and/or the disappearing island and/or connected to the color thing.

this game has a lot of weird shit going on.

-Bonnie doesn't know what a star is

-OH FUCK NO. AM I GOING TO HAVE TO GO TO THE OBSERVATORY. I'M LEAVING THAT FOR A LATER LOOP.

-another ghost :0

-ISAT: 📚

ISAT if Siffrin could pick locks: 📕

-WHAT. "you used to find them disgusting, but someone you knew loved them, so you tried them."

"someone you knew?"

"who?"

O_O

-aw, Isa hugged Mira on this bathroom trip

-"you wish for rest" yeah...

-"please be sharp, please be sharp, please be sharp"

-the Keyknife is now the Knifekey. WAIT. THIS MEANS IN THE FUTURE I CAN DO OTHER SHIT ON FLOOR 3. HELL FUCKING YES.

-wait. OH C'MON. boooooooo

-i picked malanga fritters and almost skipped past something that seems important. they remind Siffrin of his parents? :0 their head hurt...

-"BECAUSE YOU FORCED THEM TO!" :(

-"where r u from" "no u"

-JUST FUCKING CONFESS ISA FJHDHEJKSMXMDKSKS

-*sighs* guess i should talk to her. actually... what if i called Loop?

-huh. can't call them here.

-"i just hope that one day you might learn" WAIT THAT'S DIFFERENT- wait nvm i got things mixed up in my head :(

-"in this moment, you were loved"

-"that was a nice rehearsal" OH FUCK.

-i just skipped from loop 37 to 40

-time to kill myself with a banana! oop- *plantain*

-"you broke your head open on a rock" it did not use to describe it like that.

-wait. Sif. if you're annoyed there isn't a more dignified way in the village to loop. just kill yourself. you have a knife. just fucking kill yourself to loop forward.

-...fuck what the hell is this game doing to my thought process

-ok what should i look for in this room...

-"BUT YOU ARE NOT ABLE TO READ IT" in large font... :(

-:( Sif is trying to remember something and it's tied to the stars

-aight new thing to ask the king time to get myself killed via tear yippee

-seems like the King wants Siffrin to remember their home... "something we've all forgotten" this is definitely about the disappearing island and the colors

-i need to go to the library and find the books on it.

-hey isn't Rock also called Protection Craft? kinda interesting that the King has it

-damn i died to the King because of timing bullshit ToT

-"one more time."

-huh... it evades active remembrance

-it had a belief centered on the Universe...

-need to figure out why the King is obsessed with Vaugarde

-freezing something perfect in time... do i need to find one of those Time Craft books again?

-gonna loop forward to the King

-"even the King feels easy to fight, now"

"i still can't say it" the name of their home. he wants to be able to say the name of his and Siffrin's home. ouagh this game is going to leave me emotionally devastated ToT

-fuck i missed the option to ask Odile if she was going to continue her fake research on a loop where i didn't spend time with her

-"can we group hug after i talk to the Head Housemaiden?" oh?

-DAMMIT ODILE INTERRUPTED ISA THIS TIME

-time to talk to her. again. again and again and again and again

-"you can start breaking down now" lol

-"the curtain falls" DAMN

-"HERE AGAIN?" woah Loop why so aggressive?

-"i'm too lazy to open up new dialogue choices" lol

-hm... show Loop the souvenirs...

-wait huh. in another loop this lady in Dormont said she has no siblings but now she has a sister. odd...

-:O THE LONG THINGY-THING

-huh. Loop reacted kinda weirdly to the kid's doodle

-hey what if i gave Isa the flower at the end?

-FUCK I FORGOT THE FUCKING ROCK I GOT TOO COMFY. this is embarrassing

-hey hold up the theme that plays when everybody's discussing the country in the library is the same song that plays when Loop is recapping things

-hold up. the King was in Corbeaux. Corbeaux is where the House doing the color research is.

-took the photo. PERFECTLY FROZEN IN TIME

-oh fuck

-calling Loop

-hm. the star-shaped gate that's locked. is the passcode the name of Siffrin and the King's home?

-we're gonna use a bomb i guess

-i asked the King where he's from and uh... now a slowed-down version of the song is playing...

-what the fuck

-Sif and the King are going to die, aren't they?

-"BUT IT'S ALL GONE!"

-i'm going to loop forward and try to talk to the King. again.

-*sighs* the peel is so dorky

-FUCK I FORGOT TO EQUIP THE MEMORY OF KNIFEKEY

-wait. asking him nicely. FUCKING WORKED???

-"The Universe leads... we can only follow"

-FUCK. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME. OF COURSE. OF COURSE. OF COURSE. GO FUCK YOURSELF.

-so the King knows about the loops, even though he can't remember them.

-"Wish Craft" :0

-WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO.

-BONNIE NO

-NO NO NO NO UNHAND THEM

-BONNIE NO BONBON NO

-okay. i looped back. Bonnie is okay again. i just need to kill the King.

-hold the fuck up. it says i'm in Act 4. bad things mark the end of acts. Act 1 ended with me getting in the loops. Act 2 ended with killing the King failing. Act 3 ended with...?

-please don't let Bonnie be dead somehow

-THEY'RE OKAY THEY'RE OKAY

-...the little moments of time rewinding seem to correlate with Sif wishing to go back

-:O I CAN READ THE BOOKS NOW

-THE GATE. OH FUCK YEAH

-fucking hell when did i get (Just attack) because DAMN. Sif is so fucking done with everything.

-WISH CRAFT

-i just fumkign one-shot the Nostalgie on floor 1. "just attack" indeed

-"you need a break" :(

-Sif is like constantly teetering on the edge of a mental breakdown

-let's see how well they do against a boss

-DAMN

-ok so what the fuck was Euphrasie doing before shit hit the fan? and why does she blame herself for Siffrin's situation?

-i just realized something funny. if Vaugarde is fantasy France. and Siffrin and the King are from an island north of Vaugarde. DOES THAT MAKE SIFFRIN FANTASY BRITI- *gets shot*

-gate time.

-what was the question? what was the answer?

-"couldn't i just create another me? someone who'd understand?" ok so somebody's a clone got it.

-Loop? i should talk to Loop

-ok i guess i'll have to be like "hey Loop are you a clone?" in person (plot twist Sif's a clone :P)

-"i saw a weird shade" WAIT HOLD UP YEAH THAT'S SUS THAT SIFFRIN FUCKING SAW RED. OK THAT WAS DIAGETIC. FIRST COLOR IN THE WHOLE GAME.

-gonna kill the King again, talk to Loop, then loop again forward to Floor 2 to read the color theory book

-WAIT SIFFRIN HASN'T CRIED ONCE THIS WHOLE GAME BITCH REPRESSION IS NOT HEALTHY!

-"especially if she knows" Sif. did you forget Odile's name. OH FUCK

-"HOW BLINDINGLY WONDERFUL, FOR A ROLL OF TOILET PAPER TO BE THE ONLY HOPE YOU HAVE LEFT RIGHT NOW!" this would be so funny if not for the context

-"you wish for eternity" WAIT HOLD UP

-SIFFRIN IS USING WISH CRAFT. AND WHEN THEY PRAY TO THE CHANGE GOD STATUES THEY SEND THEIR WISHES. ARE THE BUFFS AND THE KEYKNIFE THE RESULT OF WISH CRAFT?

-hey Siffrin uses a more shy and sad portrait for the 'thank you' afterwards now :(

-FUCK I FORGOT TO SHARPEN THE KNIFE

-y'know what it's fine i have the bomb

-hey Sif i think what happened last time might've uh. traumatized you? ;-;

-welp. i used the bomb. it was anticlimactic.

-"i wonder how this country looks from the outside" *proceeds to imply that the time loop only affects Vaugarde* hold the fucking phone

-ok tho srsly Siffrin is in what looks like *extreme* duress

-oh damn Sif has different portraits for the 'you should disappear' bit. less smug and determined, more... *haunted*

-dang, can't give Isa the flower at the end

-*sigh* gonna talk to her again

-"the actor has become the director"

-there's a lot more theatre comparisons than there used to :(

-woah Siffrin you are weirdly enthusiastic to see Loop

-time to loop forward to read the books woooo

-Sif i am very concerned about this dialogue portrait. your enthusiasm is *desperate*

-hey something funny: people wish on stars

-this game has a LOT of motifs i love: wishes, stars, time, memories, etc.

-hm... what is Siffrin's 'ritual' when doing the wish-y thing?

-:0 a wish is trapping Siffrin?

-what if they're actually being trapped by their own desires or smth? like some sort of- WAIT. WHAT IF LOOP IS TRAPPING THEM SOMEHOW???

-i am in conspiracy mode i think

-moving forward to get to the library

-Siffrin is now level 85...

-maybe a wish is how the island disappeared?

-FAVOR TREE IS WISH CRAFT WOOOOOOOO

-i think the way Sif wished was from something they learned as a kid

-3, 6, 7, 13, all are numbers with significance

-HEY LOOP LOOK WHAT I LEARNED

-welp time to die ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

-ok what is in that one house in the main part of Dormont

-hm. Euphrasie was apparently asking everybody what they wished for. she probably realized something tied to Wish Craft was wrong...

-maybe the list in Euphrasie's office cataloguing the names was categorizing based on wishes?

-looping forward

-"you're a living comedy sketch"

-my guess is that the wishing to save Vaugarde enabled Siffrin to loop so they could defeat the King, but something went horribly wrong, thus causing the loops to keep going

-ugh i need to talk in person. tear time!

-a sped-up version of the happy song after you beat the King is playing and Siffrin has the desperate enthusiasm portrait...

-Siffrin, you already tried saving Vaugarde.

-"maybe you don't loop because you die... but because you feel like there would be no reason to go on, maybe?" makes sense to me. Siffrin doesn't have anything to look forward to after defeating the King.

-"something that, to you, feels on the same level of hopelessness as death? on the same level as the world ending?" me when the time loop wants me to get therapy:

-hey Sif you just looped. right in front of Loop.

-looping forward to the King.

-Odile's realizing she's missing something. too bad she'll forget it. maybe i should try making the others really suspicious of me on a future loop

-"please don't interrupt" :(

-this game has me constantly on some variety of edge and i love it

-maybe this time Isa will get to confess?

-the static is starting and i haven't even talked to Euphrasie

-damn i did a minor loop back :(

-talking to her won't work. it can't work.

-STOP SAYING THE SAME DAMN THING STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT

-I WAS RIGHT AS TO HOW EXACTLY SIF GOT STUCK

-the wish is broken. MAYBE IF I DO SOMETHING ELSE MAYBE IF HE'S DEFEATED SOME OTHER WAY PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

-OH FUCK. so Sif's current theory is that somehow he has to deal the final blow

-"You just need to defeat the King on your own" BUT YOU NEED THE OTHERS TO DEFEAT HIM?

-also damn the way Siffrin's thoughts spiral into a mess is a mood.

-i am now in Act 5.

-:( the Dormont music is slow now

-Sif's portrait in the menus has changed again, there is nothing in the body text of his profile, and their title is now "The Lost One" :(

-wait. the Change God statue is glitchy now and i can't get buffs there anymore

-Sif is like perpetually pissed off

-aaaand now Mira's upset

-Sif is going to fuck things up with the others as well, won't they?

-i think Odile's gonna figure out that Sif is in a time loop

-i feel like i'm in a horror game right now. well. i've felt like that for a while. but i am fucking terrified of Siffrin right now. Siffrin you need help please they only want to help you you can't bottle up everything or it only ends up worse

-the battle theme is slowed...

-sometime i should write a crossover fanfic where Rose Lalonde picks apart Siffrin, i think it would go very interestingly

-unrelated but i just realized Isa has a hair banana hehehe... i need to cling to levity while in this hell

-uh. dude. why is your dialogue looping

-SIFFRIN! I. I KNOW YOU'RE STRUGGLING BUT ALL THEY WANT TO DO IS HELP YOU AND YOU KEEP HURTING THEM PLEASE THEY ONLY WANT TO HELP YOU I KNOW VULNERABILITY IS HARD BUT PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE THEY'VE BEEN *TRYING* AND THEY'VE BEEN NOTHING BUT KINDA TO YOU AND IT HURTS TO SEE THIS SIFFRIN BECAUSE YOU KEEP GETTING WORSE AND WORSE AND IT'S TERRIFYING!

-fuck man this game is getting me to care so much about this guy. Mental Illness Simulator 2023

-the irony of Sif calling Isa a coward who projects confidence but not backing it up... Siffrin is projecting.

-and yet despite all that... Isa still ended the conversation rather kindly ToT

-Loop seems really unsure and yeah. past me would not believe this but i am siding with the starheaded bitch.

-...Loop fucking LIED

-Sif is going alone

-oh dear the music

-most of the memories are gone. and the skills...

-level 99

-wait the room layout is fucked

-a Sif ghost but with a black hat instead

-"you're hungry" :(

-so. i think Sif just hallucinated his party members.

-"your stomach hurts. you feel cold." :(

-the world is glitching and breaking haha and i am scared i'm scared i'm scared Siffrin *please*

-how is the photo event occurring if i'm on my own?

-*oh no*

-ok brb i need to take a break

-ok back from my break and refreshed! now i can go back to Siffrin's Descent Into Hell

-entered Mira's room. her hallucination did the "head is covered in darkness creepily" thing...

-Odile...

-i'm in the Keyknife room except now the background is the post-King fight background...

-the feeling of the grim march towards a specific goal reminds me of the Undertale genocide route haha...ha...ha... ...

-stomachache, headache, and the smell of sugar...

-no more running, only a slow, slow, walk to the end

-"you've trapped this country in time even more surely than i have" oh fuck

-not often that a game makes me terrified enough for me to feel my heartbeat...

-red.

-his sprite is on the game over?

-where the FUCK am i?

-spooky shadow Siffrin

-OOO DO I GET TO FIGHT A MANIFESTATION OF SIFFRIN'S MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES?

-hm what does mal du pays mean- oh :( it translated to homesickness :(

-you can't fight your own shadow

-"it's not like you haven't let me die before, right?" *OH FUCK*

-you broke your promise didn't you?

-red

-dude i think the depression is collecting its due. loops and loops of bottling your shit up has been unhealthy and now you are paying for it :(

-"if something has been forgotten by everyone, has that thing ever existed?" FUCK

-red

-more red

-BRIGHT RED

-if i had a nickel for every rpg i liked where a monochrome manifestation of the main character's mental illness taunted him in a scripted fight, i'd have two nickels, which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice. bonus: the dialogue box calls Mal du Pays 'something'! oh and both games open with a content warning i guess

y'know maybe the fact i found out about this game from a blogger that i followed for Omori stuff should've been some sort of indicator.

-"the sadness within you is right" FUCK

-OH GOOD SIF DIDN'T DIE THE FAMILY CAME TvT

-"a weird shiny person helped us!" LOOP :D

-AND THE MUSIC IS UPBEAT OH THIS FEELS SO GOOD TvT

-IT HAS THE TITLE SCREEN MOTIF TOO

-i'l have to look up the song later and compare to other themes but i think it might be a medley/remix? i've definitely identified the post-King fight theme and the title theme, probably more i can't clearly identify

-everybody's battle portraits are so bright and happy

-"i still cannot remember its name" :(

-damn. he froze. womp womp

-ok but what about Loop? what's going on with them?

-glitchy background...

-i'm on Act 5. aren't there like 6 acts? idk maybe this can end and Sif can move forward. then again... the last few times. that did not work out.

-haha Sif pls don't die on us rlly tho pls don't

-so slow...

-RED...

-Mal du Pays is following us

-FUCK

-*exhales* ok the darkness is gone

-is it weird that i kinda like this moment more than the moments of closeness with the others in Act 3? maybe cuz it feels more real, somehow... or because for once, Siffrin is the one being vulnerable...

-i think the problem was sticking to the script and treating the others like actors or well... NPCs

-FUCK FUCK FUCK NO NO NO DON'T YOU DARE GO INTO GLITCHY MODE.

-FUCK

-now that they're here they know something is wrong.

-please game please grant Siffrin one small mercy and let the others loop back with him this time

-RED

-uhhhhhhhh

-Sif did you just become your weird sadness self

-woah this is a beautiful scene

-WOAH. now THIS is a battle! and it is *beautiful*. the red and the stars...

-oh fuck. my options are hurt them or self-harm.

-wait are they HEALING ME? :(

-the battle menu simply refers to Siffrin as 'user'

-JGJRJENNDNRJE LMAO ODILE JUST PULLED A CLASSIC MOM MOVE LIKE "don't you dare storm up to your room earlier in time, young man!"

-forced group therapy

-oh, Siffrin's portrait

-i HATE that my options are hurt my friends or hurt myself. and i refuse to let Siffrin hurt their friends. it's... heartbreaking...

-chat i don't think the wish the player chooses was Siffrin's *actual* wish

-:0 hatless Siffrin

-AWWWW THEY'RE HUGGING

-aw... smiling Sif... hugging Bonnie :]

-:0 EVERYBODY IS SO HAPPY IN THE MENU!

-"It's you!!!!" also hey Sif's title is "The Traveler" again!

-"you will stay together for a little while longer" :]

-i love how the lack of hat makes the fact that Siffrin is really short apparent lol

-these new conversations are precious :]

-Odile thinks the fact that Sif loved everybody so much they got himself stuck in a time loop to be cute XD

-NO WAY. IS THIS FINALLY HAPPENING. IS HE FINALLY GONNA SAY IT?

-HELL FUCKING YES!!!!!!!!

-ok i just talked to all the housemaidens and Dormont residents. time to talk to Loop

-...

-maybe Loop was just. a manifestation of the wish...

-:0 THE SILVER COIN? ARE WE GONNA FINSLLY USE THE SILVER COIN?

-TvT

-I BEAT THE GAME :D

-:o Siffrin is no longer on the title screen

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Ooooo for the shedding scales au, I really like this prompt, all the yanderes just want to dote on the new baby dragon, meanwhile reader and maybe the other teens too are confused as to what they do now that they're frickin dragons, this au gives me skyrim vibes.

Can I ask for something with reader meeting the xmen for the first time? Whether they're some mystery baby who popped up out of nowhere, or a sacrifice offered by the cult.

Haha, is this an idea or an ask? I'm not doing full requests (a full story) but I can do a small one. Let's try this:

Being tied up wasn't fun.

Being left at the foot of the steps to a giant, golden temple was not fun.

Being stared down at, and covered in blood, by gigantic, enormous, terrifying dragons was not fun.

But here Reader was, trying to chew through the gag in their mouth and struggling fitfully against the ropes that bound them. The stone underneath them was cold, scattered with hard, shining objects, each shimmering faintly in the cloudy dawn. Deep, guttural noises boomed from above, amd Reader count help but curl in on themself at the loud noise. The growls and grunts echoed across the sky, reverberating into the rocks and air and Reader, shaking everything it touched.

Yet the moment the chanting ended... one of the dragons reached out, large claws open wide, to tap Reader, surprisingly gentle for such a large monster...

And then something glowed, sharp and bright and stinging, then Reader felt a change shift across them.

Their skin started to chafe, tearing away in places only to grow soft, leathery scales. Their back arched, their bones shifting and popping and cracking with each movement. Their fingers seemed to shrink, growing sharp talons, while their teeth sharpened, their head elongating and forming a new shape, new bones. Something sprouted from their back, scrambling and flapping against the chill and snow. And lashing from their end, coiling and twitching and scaly, was a tail...

When the pain finally resides, leaving behind an ache that fills Reader's bones... they notice just how much bigger and vivid everything looks. The dragons are even more gigantic, the temple more imposing, the stone so much colder... Yet when they look down... they don't see their hands. They see small, scaled hands, each finger tipped with a tiny claw. Reader tries to shriek, yet what comes out is a small, whining cry, sounding like a cheep or chirp...

Something scoops them up, large and dark and so so warm, and then it clasps around Reader, leaving them in heated darkness. Rumbling noises come from everywhere, and Reader can feel the shift and thuds as the being holding them moves. They can't help but nudge themself into a small ball, trying to sleep...

It's soft, and quiet, and warm, when they wake up. Yet when Reader cracks open their eyes, the find they're not alone.

In a large, seemingly unending nest are other small dragons, with different colors and wings and sizes... and watching over them all, with a warm, fanged grin, are the seven large dragons who did this to them...

"Hello, hatchlings..."

[the-mother-of-lions]

for anonymous

Program: Photoshop 2020 Required Knowledge: How to make a gif, general familiarity with PS

tbh anon i think this tutorial will be a little disappointing! i don't really do anything special to my gifs. I'm not sure if you're wanting just a general coloring or something more in depth, so I'll do a little mix of everything.

This got super long i'm sorry

Basic Coloring

Relighting the Gif: As you may have noticed, a lot of tv nowadays is dark asf, and even if it isn't too dark, the lighting is just off. So I usually fix this with a Curves Layer. It offers me the most noticeable lighting change than any other method I've tried thus far. So after sharpening and cropping to suit your tastes, add a Curves adjustment layer. Clicking on the White Eyedropper, I then pick a spot on the gif that is the brightest. Sometimes I have to zoom in reallllly close to find a singular pixel thats lighter than all the others. And sometimes the lightest spot is too white and doesn't change anything, and if thats the case then I'll click around a little to see if any other spots offer a change in lighting that I like. I'll repeat this step with the Black Eyedropper but for the darker parts of the gif.

Hue/Saturation: This changes depending on what I'm giffing. For Live Action, I never do more than 10 on the Saturation line. For Anime, I usually do 20 but sometimes I'll do less depending on how the 20 looked. For Live Action with POC, I will do 10 and then open another H/S layer and adjust the red/yellow parts on the H/S.

Vibrance: I start with a Vibrance layer of 30. If I had to take out a lot of red/yellow, I usually duplicate this layer at least once.

Levels: Once I get the main adjustments out of the way, I go back to the Curves layer and add a Levels layer directly above it. On the Levels layer, I use the drop down to go through each color (Red, Green, Blue) and adjust the levels of those colors individually. I personally prefer cool toned gifs, so I usually add quite a bit of blue and red and take out green, but adjust as necessary.

Selective Color: Optional I don't always do this, it depends on the scene and how it already looks after the other four layers. But I do like a strong contrast so I will often Add a Selective Color layer above the Levels layer, choose Black from the drop down, and on the Black slider I increase it to 100. But sometimes thats wayyy too much and I'll do less as needed.

Black and White

For B&W recoloring, I'll do a Curves layer like above and then a H/S layer. On the H/S I'll lower the saturation completely.

Simple Recoloring

Simple as in I'm adjusting a few colors to bring them out more.

To start with and to get a basic grasp of what colors are in your gif, I'll open a Hue/Sat layer and crank the Saturation allll the way up. This will show you the main colors that make up your gif and which ones you need to change to reach your desired outcome.

After muting or deleting the H/S layer, I'll do small adjustments inside a new H/S layer focusing on the colors I want to change, then I'll add a Color Balance layer. Usually I only adjust the midtones and highlights, but it all depends on where the colors are that you're changing. Again, I like cool tone gifs so I'll take out a lot of yellow/green.

From here you can go to Selective Color and adjust the colors up or down as you need.

It's also helpful to add a Gradient Map. With Gradient maps one end should be white or black and the other end the color you want to bring out. Set the gradient maps blend to Overlay and lower the opacity to about 10-25%. Put this layer underneath your recolor layers.

Adding Gradients

On some gifs, it's helpful to add a Gradient layer to achieve a certain look.

Clicking on the Gradient layer, set your gradient and then change the blending layer to Color or Hue. Both of these will give different effects, but it's also a good idea to play with other blending modes to find what you like. From there, I usually lower the Opacity to 30-50%, duplicate the layer and change it to Screen and lower the Opacity on that to 30.

Honestly I don't do a ton of drastic recolors and I always feel kind of insecure about it? I'm very unconfident in my drastic recoloring skills. But if you have any further questions please feel free to ask!

Even if I don't know the answer, I'm sure I know someone who does.

Hope this was helpful in some way anon!

[theleslistuff]

Danny may 2024

Day 11 Mutation

The ice beast

Second part of;

https://www.tumblr.com/theleslistuff/697151428019486720/the-ice-king-no-one-knows-au-but-what-if-dannys?source=share

Ghost king Danny au, Nobody knows au, Feral ghost puberty au

Warnings; body horror, loss of humanity and autonomy, self harm, attempt to suicide

Danny has taken over the ghost zone in matter of days, the title of king is rightfully his anyways, there was no real opposition.

But he could not help but to feel insecure...

Every royal seems to look at him in pity, talk slower to him as if he could not understand, except for prince Aragon who would hold a proud grin around him as if the dragon Lord knew something he didn't knew.

Even so, he liked to have him as a company, feeling he's treating him normally unlike his annoying sister who would try to approach him like all the others with slow pet-like talk.

-Shut up! -

The ghost boy yelled at the lady, not really listening to anything she said... Not wanting to recognize he barely understands anything in his last 3 meetings, he used to understand when everyone talked slowly despite how annoying it was, with Aragon he doesn't understand anything at all, but feeling comfort in him talking to him like he understands has made him agree to sign every paper he brings.

That's the reason for Dora's visit.

-Shh... It's alright my liege... I'm just... Trying to make you... See, my brother... Will take your crown... When ghost puberty ends... -

The ghost lady said as slow and understandable as possible, like talking to a wild animal, it was evident for the horns, sharp fangs, tail, spines and fur on their king who used to be a humanoid ghost, he's going through an awful ghost puberty and unlike the far frozen (who he refused to call them for help), Danny has been acting more... feral.

-I don't care!, get out! -

He yelled at her as he pushed her out side, he was not angry for something he didn't understood, he is angry because he no longer understood a word.

-This should have stopped, why is it not stopping?! -

The ghost boy exclaimed as he looked at his hands..., his nails have gotten longer and black, the fur has covered his skin completely, as he turned his hands to see his palms, it's evident de dark color on his fingertips and a bigger patch on his palm with no hair in those areas and getting gradually numb as the black skin swells it's evident those are no longer hands but just...

Paws

He clenched his hands into a fist, not wanting to see his disfigured hands.

Pacing in circles around the meeting room tries to calm himself down.

-It's ok..., I'm the king now..., I don't have to be in disposal all the time..., I'll just... Stay here until it stops... -

He said to himself, he doesn't notice he has been purring and growling when he walks, but when he finally does, he abruptly stops, his tail slapping the floor in anger makes him finally snap and let go a roar as he grabs the long tail and tries to rip it off, making large cuts with his claws and teeth... He has gotten past the point he could cut it long ago...

He winced in pain when one cut reached a nerve, he dropped the tail and allowed it to heal back.

Danny wanted to cry and scream, but he couldn't show weakness, he couldn't show he was not in control of his own body and he was not a full ghost...

He feels his face ache..., he knows when something in him aches the next time he sees it, it's a monstrous new version of it.

This makes his heart sink

he puts his hands on his face in a poor attempt to stop it, the ache turns into full pain as his mandibles began to crack and stretch.

He let go of his face and screamed, dropping on his knees as he did.

The process never stopped and he could feel his jaw open wider as it resembled more a muzzle, with his gums turning black as the little human teeth he had sharpened and reshaped all along the muzzle, his tongue turns green and rough resembling a feline tongue, his nostrils began to bleed as they were forced to grow wider and change their position and even color and texture resembling a canine nose.

But as soon as it started, it stopped.

He was panting exhausted for the change, even so he raised a hand to his face, immediately feeling a snout similar to the far frozen people..., His snout...

He immediately put down his hand and got up, he hasn't noticed his back got slightly curved too, all thanks to the cape he wears... But the shock of the muzzle is too much for him.

-I'm... A beast... -

The boy said with a strange feeling because of the new muzzle, some saliva is dripping from it, totally horrified and grossed out he runs around the room trying to find something... Anything to end this, to not feel this any longer and he knows his claws are not enough, when he finds a sword in the room he's almost relieved as he holds it... Pointing at his core, laughing and crying as he prepares to dig it inside of his chest, he raised it high and...

An ecto blast threw the sword away from his hands.

He turned around to see the responsible...

Dora didn't wait for him to react as she rushed by his side and hugged him.

-It's ok...-

She said in a soft tone..., he could not understand it, but it made him feel... Safe.

He hugged her back and cried.

-I don't... Want to be a... Monster... -

She didn't answer, it was no use... He could not understand her and she knows she could not lie about his destiny...

[rex-meshla]

Shadows of the Force

PAIRING | Captain Rex x F!OC (Stella Cardone) WORD COUNT | 2.3k PROLOGUE | CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 TAGLIST | @cw80831

Chapter 5: Forged in Light

The weeks following my decision to train as a Jedi were intense, each lesson with Master Yoda or Anakin peeling back another layer of the galaxy's mysteries and revealing more about my connection to the Force. Meditation sessions became a daily ritual, sharpening my focus, but the physical and mental discipline required in my combat training demanded even more. I could feel myself changing, adapting to this life.

One afternoon after training, Anakin approached me with a new kind of determination in his gaze. "There's somewhere we need to go," he said, his tone serious yet with a faint edge of excitement.

I glanced up, catching the fire in his eyes. "Where?"

"It's a place where every Jedi makes a special journey. A place that will help you discover a part of yourself you haven't yet seen."

He gestured for me to follow him, his voice taking on a quiet, almost reverent quality. "We're going to Ilum. It's time you found your crystal and built your lightsaber."

The words sent a thrill through me as the weight of what he was saying settled in. This wasn't just another training session; this was something monumental.

He smiled slightly, sensing my anticipation. "But," he added as we made our way toward the hangar, "the path doesn't stop there. After Ilum, there's another journey waiting. One that'll bring you closer to the men who will stand by your side in battle."

I blinked, a little taken aback by his words. The intensity in his gaze told me he wasn't just talking about training anymore. "The men?" I asked.

He nodded. "My squad, the 501st. You'll be working alongside them soon enough. Trust me, they'll teach you things no one else can."

There was an underlying pride in his voice when he spoke of them, a camaraderie that was unmistakable. I'd seen them from afar, but the idea of working with them, to be a part of Anakin's team, felt both daunting and thrilling.

As we boarded the shuttle bound for Ilum, I felt the weight of Anakin's expectations and, somehow, the weight of my own hopes.

The journey down was rough, the ship rattling as it pushed through Ilum’s frigid atmosphere. Outside the viewport, an expanse of harsh, unbroken white stretched under dark, swirling clouds, stark and forbidding.

When the ramp finally lowered, a blast of icy air hit me, stinging my face as I stepped onto the frozen surface. Sharp winds cut through my robe, and the snow stretched endlessly, a thick, pristine blanket covering everything in sight.

my cloak tighter around me, glancing at Anakin as he walked with steady determination toward a cavern entrance carved into the mountainside.

"Welcome to Ilum," he said, his voice slightly muffled by the gusting wind. "This is where every Jedi goes to find their Kyber crystal. It's a rite of passage," he paused. "An important one. Today, you'll find yours."

The weight of his words settled over me, stirring a mixture of excitement and nervousness. I'd trained for months, learning the basics, but this was different. Today, I would take a step toward truly becoming a Jedi.

Anakin gave me an encouraging look as we entered the cavern. The air inside was eerily quiet. Glowing crystals of various colors glittered within the darkened depths of the cave, casting faint glows across the walls.

"You'll be on your own from here," Anakin explained, pausing at the entrance of the main chamber. "The crystal finds you as much as you find it. Just trust yourself, Stella. Remember that the Force is with you, guiding you. Let go of any doubts and listen."

I took a steadying breath, nodding. "Yes, Master."

He gave me one last reassuring look before stepping back, his eyes reflecting pride and trust. "I'll be waiting."

I walked forward alone, my steps echoing as the darkness enveloped me. With each step, I tried to focus, quieting my mind like Yoda had taught me, letting the quiet hum of the Force guide me. After what felt like hours of wandering through the dimly lit passages, I finally reached a secluded cavern. Suddenly, something shifted. A subtle warmth amidst the icy cold.

It called to me.

In the distance, nestled in a small alcove, I spotted it: a crystal, glowing faintly blue, its light flickering in the cold air like a heartbeat. Drawn to it, I knelt, feeling the warmth grow as I wrapped my hand around it.

This was it. My crystal.

As I turned to make my way back, the sound of the snow crunching beneath my feet and the faint echoes of the wind outside returned, and I felt an overwhelming sense of purpose settle in my chest. I wasn't just holding a crystal; I was holding a piece of something that would become an extension of myself.

When I emerged from the cavern, Anakin was waiting, a small but knowing smile on his face as he saw the crystal in my hand. "You did it!" he said, a depth of pride in his voice.

We sat together in the quiet cave, and Anakin began to guide me through the process of assembling my lightsaber, carefully laying out the parts: the hilt, the emitter, the power cell. I followed his instructions with intense focus, feeling each piece click into place.

"Each part of a lightsaber has purpose, but it also reflects its creator," he said, watching me assemble the hilt with care. "Every Jedi's lightsaber is unique to them, a reflection of who they are."

I hesitated as I connected the final piece, feeling the gravity of his words. "How did you feel when you first built yours?"

Anakin's gaze softened, and he paused, as if remembering. "I was young... Probably too young. But it felt like it grounded me, connected me to something bigger. The lightsaber became a part of me." His voice grew thoughtful, his eyes distant. "A Jedi's life is full of choices, and this crystal will be with you through all of them. Let it be a reminder of who you are and who you want to be."

I felt the weight of his words as I looked down at my lightsaber, holding it delicately. "I hope I can be as strong as you someday."

He looked at me, and for a moment, his expression softened. "Strength isn't just power, Stella. It's knowing when to fight and when to step back, even if it's the harder choice."

He paused, then added quietly, "The path of a Jedi isn't easy, but you have something many don't... A sense of purpose. Hold on to that."

I activated the lightsaber, and the blue blade sprung to life with a steady hum. The light illuminated the cavern, casting a faint glow across Anakin's face as he watched me with approval. I couldn't stop the smile that spread across my face, feeling a surge of belonging, of connection.

He reached out, gripping my shoulder firmly. "Remember this moment, Stella. A Jedi's path will take you places you never expected. Some good, some dark. But this crystal chose you. Let it remind you of the strength you already have."

I nodded, realizing this wasn't just a weapon— it was a reminder of my journey, my choices, and the commitment I had made.

Anakin caught me studying the lightsaber, a hint of pride lighting his expression. "You're ready," he said with a satisfied smile. "And I think it's time the team knows."

His eyes gleamed with anticipation. "You ready to join Rex and the boys?"

I nodded, heart pounding with a mixture of nerves and excitement.

Together, Anakin and I made our way to the ship that would carry us to the fleet, where Rex and his squad were stationed. As the stars blurred outside the viewport, my anticipation grew. I was about to step into their world.

When we arrived at the fleet, Rex, Fives, Echo and Jesse were already gathered in the briefing room, deep in mission planning around the holomap. Anakin clapped his hands to get their attention. "Alright, everyone, listen up! I've got an announcement." 

The clones turned, a few surprised glances flicking my way. Anakin placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "From here on out, Stella's my Padawan, and she'll be joining us on our missions."

A moment of silence fell over the room until Fives stepped forward with a smirk, his helmet tucked under his arm. "So, this is our new Padawan, huh?" He gave me an exaggerated once-over, crossing his arms. "What do you think, boys?"

Echo chuckled, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "She's already got the look of a trooper. I'd say she's ready for her first mission."

Jesse leaned back, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Let's hope she's got the guts to keep up with us. We're not exactly... Temple material"

I smiled, fighting back nerves and feeling a swell of gratitude for Anakin's presence behind me 

Soon after, we settled into a gunship, and Fives leaned over, nudging me with his elbow. "Nervous, Earthling?" he asked, his smirk evident even through his helmet.

"Only a little..." I admitted with a shrug. "It's not every day I get dragged into a galactic war."

Echo shot Fives a mock glare. "Watch it, Fives. She might just show us all up out there."

Jesse chimed in, teasing. "She's already braver than half the rookies we trained back on Kamino."

Their lighthearted banter eased my nerves, and I smiled. Somehow, even in the midst of war, these clones had kept their spirits high. Their camaraderie felt strangely like family—like the one I hadn't realized I missed until now.

Rex's gaze settled on each of us, his voice steady and focused, commanding the squad's full attention as the laughter faded.

"Remember, this is no drill," he said. "Out there, things will move fast. Stay sharp, stick to your assignments and watch each other's backs."

His steady gaze settled on me. "Padawan Cardone, this will be different from your training. Stick close, stay in sync with the team."

Fives, seated beside me, shot me a quick, reassuring grin. "Don't worry, Earthling," he joked, giving me a light nudge. "It's just a stroll in the park."

I smirked back, feigning confidence, though my heart beat faster with each passing second. Across the hold, Anakin caught my eye, nodding with quiet reassurance as the gunship's engines rumbled louder.

The landing was rough, shaking us on impact—a sharp reminder that this was a real mission, not a Temple simulation. The gunship doors slid open, and the harsh sunlight temporarily blinded me as I took in the rocky landscape. Around me, the clones sprang into action, moving with practiced ease and seamless coordination that was mesmerizing. Anakin turned to me, his expression serious, yet his eyes gleaming with that familiar spark of excitement.

"Alright, Stella," he said, voice calm but firm. "Watch and learn—follow my lead. But remember, on the battlefield, you'll have to make split-second calls. Trust your instincts. Got it?"

I nodded, gripping my lightsaber hilt tightly, the solid weight of it grounding me. "Got it."

Anakin grinned, clapping my shoulder. "And don't be afraid to get a little creative." With a wink, he led the charge forward.

Rex was close by, issuing short, efficient commands to his men. As he glanced my way, he gave a slight nod. "Stay alert, Padawan," he said, his tone carrying a hint of warning.

Jesse fell in step beside me as we moved through the rocky terrain, his grin mischievous. "Don't worry, Earthling, we've got your back. Just keep that robe of yours hole-free."

I smirked. "I'll do my best."

As if on cue, the first sounds of enemy blaster fire erupted nearby, snapping everyone into action. Anakin's lightsaber ignited with a familiar hum, casting a blue glow across the rocky terrain, and he signaled for us to advance. The clones moved with sharp precision, blasters at the ready, fanning out to take defensive positions as they engaged the incoming droids.

"Stay close!" Anakin shouted over the noise, his eyes locked on the advancing line of droids. I tightened my grip on my lightsaber, its steady warmth grounding me as adrenaline surged through my veins.

In an instant, I was deflecting blaster bolts, each movement guided by instinct and training. Rex blasted a droid flanking our left, giving me an approving nod as I moved forward, keeping pace with the squad.

"I see you can handle yourself!" he called out, taking down two more droids with quick shots. "But stay sharp, we're just getting started!"

In the heat of battle, I found myself sticking close to Rex. He moved through the chaos with a calm, collected precision, knowing exactly when to pull me aside with a quick tip or a reminder to keep focused. No matter how fierce the fighting grew around us, his guidance never wavered.

"Don't let them flank you," he'd tell me, his voice cutting over the clamor of blaster fire.

Finally, the last wave of droids crumpled to the ground, their parts sparking as the battlefield stilled. I could barely catch my breath as I took it all in, but the clones were already regrouping with practiced efficiency. Anakin and Rex exchanged a brief nod, their silent communication in perfect sync as they surveyed the clearing. 

Just as we began our final sweep, Rex looked my way. "Nice work, Padawan. You've got good instincts," he said, a rare nod of approval slipping through his typically stoic expression. "Keep working on that form, though."

I grinned, catching his drift. "Thanks, Captain. I'll make sure I pass inspection next time."

For the first time, I caught a hint of humor in his eyes. "I'll hold you to that," he replied, his tone lighter, almost warm.

With a last look at the battlefield littered with droid remains, I followed the squad to the extraction point, my mind racing over everything I'd just experienced. The adrenaline still pulsed through me, but a feeling of quiet pride took hold, too. I'd made it through my first mission with them.

_____________________________________________________________

You can read the next chapter here find my masterlist here x

[levenllan23]

"A New Dawn in the Force: Obi-Wan’s Quiet Revelation in Kara" Part 1

There are few in the galaxy who have known loss as deeply as Obi-Wan Kenobi. Once, he held Satine close to his heart, a love he had to let go in the name of duty. He learned about life and compassion from his mentor, Qui-Gon, only to lose him far too soon. Yet, through it all, Obi-Wan has remained resolute, a pillar of strength in the Force—a Jedi who follows the Code with grace and honor. But now, as he gazes at the sleeping young girl in his arms, a little Lightbearer named Kara, he feels something he thought he had lost forever: a sense of hope, a light in the shadows of his heart.

Kara has become more than just a ward under his protection. She is a spark, a reminder that attachments do not lead to darkness but, rather, keep one anchored in the light. Watching Anakin, his former Padawan, helped him understand this truth. Anakin taught him to see beyond the rigid lines of the Jedi Code, to recognize that true strength does not come from distancing oneself from emotion but from accepting it. Obi-Wan now realizes that the Jedi’s teachings on avoiding attachment may have been misunderstood all along.

Anakin showed him that love is not a weakness but a foundation. Attachments, like Kara is to him, like Padmé is to Anakin, act as a grounding force, a lightning rod to channel the power of the Force without letting it consume them. He understands now why Anakin is so balanced in his own way, a Jedi who fights not out of hatred for what’s in front of him, but out of love for those he protects. Anakin’s view of the Force isn’t confined to a simple battle between light and dark; he sees it as a spectrum, a place where light and dark blend and balance each other, creating a harmony that neither alone could achieve.

In Kara, Obi-Wan has found his own harmony and finds his own journey as a jedi like kara saying to him once as she is both a jedi and guardian and how guardians make their own fate and how we fights not out of hatred for what’s in front of us, but out of love for those we protect for a new beginning and hope how in the will of the wisps that life begins anew

For so long, Obi-Wan has carried the weight of his losses—Satine, Qui-Gon, the countless Jedi he has seen fall. But here, now, holding Kara, he feels the heavy mantle of duty softened by a newfound understanding of love and compassion. She is his light in the dark, the steady presence that lets him feel the force in all its shades and colors. And as he holds her close, he knows he will protect her, not out of obligation,

That now he finally understands what Anakin tried to show him all along how attachments keep a jedi in a light like yin and yang you can not have dark with the light as with the other they are not balance but when understand you complete to understand both side of the Force.

Most of all, love does not cloud one’s judgment; it sharpens it. Attachments don’t weaken a Jedi—they strengthen them, making them resilient and whole.

In the end, Obi-Wan Kenobi is no longer just a Jedi Knight bound by the Code; he is a Jedi in balance, at peace with all he has lost, and full of love for all he has yet to protect.

[raplinenthusiasts]

for your reblog of the questions for gif makers post: 9, 18, 34, 49 ♡

9. What/who inspired you to start making gifs

I feel like I already talked about it but I love my story so here we go. After the 3j butter video dropped i saw so many sets but I couldn’t find Hoseok centric so I decided to do it myself. (It’s my second set ever because the first one was Boy Meets Evil and it was so bad I never published it 🫣) I remember it was close to his birthday and #cyphernet hosted birthday event so I took part in few days challenges. Overall I get into giffing because there wasn’t enough Hobi sets for me to reblog 🤷‍♀️

18. For the aesthetic, for the laughs, or for the feels what your preference

As I’m the proudest of my bts x the office collaboration that resulted in my holy trilogy (1, 2 and 3) I have to say for laughs 🥰 And I can truthfully say that I come back to read the tags on these three regularly because they are always able to make me smile and feel so happy. So yeah 💛

34. A set that took you a long time/was really hard but you’re really proud of how it came out

I’ll cheat here a little. Because shadow Yoongi set is my baby and it was the first time I tried something more advanced. It took me a long time to do it and it was worth every second. But the true monster that took me about two weeks to finish was my bts anniversary discography set. I threw it away a few times and always came back to it in the end. Firstly, it took me so long to find clips with 7 of them from actual era then finding good sequence so they all can be seen NIGHTMARE and then the fucking numbers, it was mind numbing!!! BUT I loved using that template and choosing my fave songs and everything else 💛

49. How much would you say you’ve improved since you first started giffing

Well I have to say A LOT because looking back on my old sets I cringe so hard sometimes. Sometimes it’s coloring, sometimes it’s sharpening or quality. But it’s constant process so I won’t ever be able to say I’m good with what I’m doing 🤷‍♀️ I’m quite proud of the skills that I learned in the last months especially. Trying new things and getting them to actually work is very satisfying (you have no idea how I screamed when I finally got to understand clipping masks or the happy dance I did after making successful the motion blur gif).

please ask me things 🙏

[pandorafallz]

Overseer AU | A breath between

tw for blood, death, school shooting, seizure 

Grace could help but beam as the children continued to talk in full, English sentences, reading off her board with her. Writing was not a used tool for the Na’vi to use, ideograms mostly were what the Na’vi used if they had to carve it into something but…everything that they knew was oral. From stories, play to even the songcords they had tucked into their loincloths.

Yet, they picked up not only English but its written language as well. They had wondered why humans wrote stuff down and while it was easy to explain the practical use, she knew it wasn’t a skill they’d use in their own lives but, she hoped it would be useful later on with their interactions with Sky people.

She had given them a notebook and pencil, showing them how to sharpen the end to keep the graphite going, to write down an story or fragment of their day that they were happy or proud of, or in some cases; sad about. They never really took them back to Hometree; the books were too unfamiliar for the parents to like, nor did they seem to like the ‘alien scriptures’ that they produced. But she had always enjoyed letting them spend time scribbling away as they talked as it gave her an opening to each of their lives.

One book still lay on the shelf, gathering dust at this point.

A week had gone by, Grace had noticed Sylwanin hadn’t shown up. A growing concern but she had hoped the girl would come down soon so they could at least talk. The fact that Neytiri was still in the crowd of the seven faces of today was a good sign.

“Wonderful, you’re such good readers. At this rate, I’ll run out of material to teach you” She praised, earning a few happy giggles. “Neytiri, is there a book of interest you would like to read out to the class?” She gestured to the few books set out on the table by another child’s feet. Anuk, who happily sat on the desk though Grace didn’t try to ask him to sit in a chair; he was comfortable and would no doubt move when he wanted to. He was fiddling with the book closest to him with some fondness; loving the bright colors of The Lorax.

Neytiri’s head turned to her, her eyes wide though clearly distracted by the blankness that came with her glance to her and then down to the books. “<What did you say>?” She asked, not trying for English.

Grace’s smile dimmed a little, a little disheartened at the girl’s demeanor. “Would you like to choose a book to read out?” She asked, “Or should I ask another?”

The sixteen year old’s eyes flickered to the books set out for a moment in a moment of debate before answering. “<Someone else, please.>”

Grace nodded though she could see Tsu’tey in the corner of her eye also watching Neytiri with some concern. Which meant this wasn’t new. She gently pulled a book to seven year old Nekawn and started her off to read out loud to the rest of the class. Once most were occupied, Grace made her move and gestured for Neytiri to follow.

Neytiri sighed though rose to her feet, followed with her to the corner, and took a seat. Neytiri sat as well, her tail swishing against the floorboards quietly but didn’t quite meet her eye.

“<Is everything alright?>” Grace asked.

Neytiri’s eyes flickered at the window again, her ears twitching with unease. “<I’m sorry. I’m distracted.>”

“<Is it something you can talk to me about?>,” Grace asked with a lean forward, “<I would like to help if I can.>”

Neytiri’s eyes flicked between her and the door, “<I don’t know… you’re with them, after all,>” Her tone turned a little bitter, her lips tightly pursed.

Grace’s ears lowered in response, her tail pausing a moment though she felt a personal bite there that she hadn’t expected from Neytiri of all people. She couldn’t deny; she was impressed by both Neytiri and Sylwanin’s brightness and aptitude to learn and the latter was eager to share her knowledge. Neytiri hadn’t tried to see her as a sky person anymore in the ten years she had worked with her here. They called her sa’nok, a title she wore with pride. This disregard…

It hurt.

Her ears straightened up as she took a heavy sigh. “<You’re angry>.” She stated. “<but that does not mean I will accept any disrespect, Neytiri. You don’t have to talk to me about what’s bothering you but don’t make judgments upon me on the basis of my origins>” Grace spoke, turning a little firm though Neytiri’s ears flickered down a little under her hard look.

“<I’m sorry, Sa’nok. I’m…just so angry. There’s so much damage your people are doing to our world.>”

Grace nodded, allowing herself to loosen up, and gently put her hand on Neytiri’s shoulder. “<The clear cutting>”

Neytiri nodded, “<Why must your people do this to our world?>” She met her eyes again, yellow eyes brimming with tears.

Grace pondered her question carefully, sitting back and resting her hands on her knees, a little more aware that the other children were listening in.

“Sky people’s own world no longer has… a way to support self. Our… distant ancestors didn’t care for the world that…impacted what the sky people have today. It forced them to rely on non-renewable minerals like metals to simply survive.  Without our planet to support their needs, they look for it elsewhere. For a time, they settled to other moons and asteroids that were close but… then that ran out.”

Grace rose to her feet, well aware of the attention to this turn of the topic that she could see interested most of the older ones, Tsu’tey especially. She moved to the model solar system, gently pushing it around to spin lightly. “your world is the next habitual planet the sky people could reach safely. For them, it was a world of salvation; a glimmer of hope that they could find a way to bring resources back to keep surviving.”

“<How much more must they take?>” Neytiri asked, wide-eyed, “<They cannot keep taking>”

Grace sighed though nodded, “<I know it’s harsh but the cruel nature of the sky people’s world is that…our ancestors killed our natural world long before my own grandmother was born. It’s to a point that…humans on earth cannot survive without the technology; our reliance is survival. Like the masks, we have to breathe here.>”

“<They are desperate>” Tsu’tey spoke, “<taking and taking like a starving palulukan that is never satisfied>” He wasn’t pleased but he made a good analogy for it.

“<That’s one way to put it, yes>” Grace sighed. “<it’s…complicated in some ways but… I think it’s best I leave that for another day.>”

“<Sylwanin’s been tracking the machines cutting the forest this last week, should we worry about that?>” Neytiri asked.

Grace looked to Neytiri for a moment though nodded, “<Sky people will not tolerate the destruction of their technology. It’s…hard to get here and they will protect it with their weapons and pursue anyone with a hand in its destruction.” That was a real warning that Grace gave, feeling unnerved to even say it but… if Sylwanin was getting upset; she had to make sure the girl didn’t think to try and tackle this herself.

Neytiri’s eyes flickered to the window again, “<I will talk to Sylwanin later. She will need to know.”

With that, Grace lumbered back to the desks, giving Nekawn a big smile, and took the book off her. “You read very well, Nekawn.” She praised, the girl lighting up happily with her words. “You know, you’re getting better than even a sky person child at your age too.”

A few giggles echoed around, “Really?”

“Really.” Grace nodded, “Which is why… I think it’ll be soon enough time for us to perhaps move onto more complex reading material for you” She knew Neytiri and Sylwanin were already onto the more adult-book type reading level but a good portion of these children weren’t. They loved the pictures much which was understandable.

“More reading?” Anuk asked, “How many stories are there?”

Grace laughed softly, “Billions.”

A few gasps echoed at the huge number that the younger ones couldn’t count, but they knew it was big.

Neytep said, “That’s so many, Sa’nok!” with a light tone, almost amazed.

“Indeed, but the stories we sky people tell can be…fact. Like our environment; information to pass on or completely made up in our minds, like the Lorax, for entertainment.” She gestured to the book Anuk had, “Some more made-up stuff has a lot more cultural and human mythology that… I can explain. Or, I could leave more books for you to read while I’m not here if you want to know. There might be pictures.”

The children looked to each other in excitement. Grace reached for her data pad to make an order for the team to make the print-outs from the digital versions like they had last time, but her attention lifted as she heard distant metallic whirls before she could touch the pad. Her ears twitched towards the sound with a frown.

But within a moment, everything changed as Sylwanin seem to burst through the doorway, and for a moment, all Grace could see was her painted-up face, eyes wide and terrified before there was a spurt of red that suddenly spurted out from her chest.

Grace gasped, her mind suddenly putting together the sounds of AMP suits before the rain of metal began to splinter through the wooden walls.

“Out! OUT!”  She dove forwards, catching Neytiri before she could go to her sister, grabbing Tsu’tey by the arm as he too made a dive at her. “<No, help me get the children out!>”

“<She’s hurt—>“

“<She’s dead. You’re not.>” Grace didn’t allow either of them to argue, tossing Nekwan into Tsu’ety’s arms and caving after a heartbeat as the children screamed as more wood shattered around them, he grabbed Marali and dove from the building’s window and out.

Anuk was on the floor, gone too but Grace couldn’t bare the dead much thought as she pulled the remaining children with her, trying to aid in their escape. Some jumped willingly out with a few scrapes but Grace only counted two dead. Too many.

“<NO!>” Neytiri fought but Grace hissed out, forcing her out the window with a push despite the girl’s enraged sounds that masked her grief and terror but Grace wasn’t an idiot to let her try; not when there was so much gun fire without mercy. She would not lose another bright soul to whatever bullshit was happening.

Not on her watch.

Neytep was the last as she grabbed the girl as the soldiers reached the doorframe, stepping over Sylwanin before the click of the gun echoed again before she jumped as the horrible echo of bullets helped to pulverize the wooden frame. Feeling the sharp splinters in the backs of her legs as she dove.

Neytep crying out before a white-hot shot of pain raged through her back and through, but the solid ground speared away her thought of that, pushing the air out of her lungs and her legs immediately ached but her body was built to take the brunt, rolling naturally though Neytep struggled in her arms but Grace felt the strength beyond the pain to push up off the ground, the girl under one arm and grabbed Neytiri’s arm as she made an attempt back, pulling her with her into the treeline

“<We can’t leave her!>”

“<If you go in, you’ll join her with Eywa. She’ll be recovered by the clan but there’s too many of them now.>”

“<I hate you!>” Neytiri hissed but Grace was glad the girl stopped fighting her, pulling her arm free but began to lead the way onward at a brisk pace. It wasn’t until Neytep whimpered again that Grace tried to speed up—she had to get te girl to Mo’at. She didn’t know how knowledgeable she was about bullet wounds but she hoped the girl would be saved.

“<I will take her.>” Neytiri’s arms snaked around the girl, pulling the eleven year old from her arms, and more or less vanished into the treeline without a backward glance.

Grace hissed out at the loss of the weight, staggering even as now, she felt the growing rise of dizziness, the pain flaring up through her middle without the weight pressing against her middle. Her hands were left free to press against the pain but, to her growing horror, she could feel the warmth of blood seemingly seep through but didn’t dare glance down.

Exit wound.

“Fuck.” Grace sucked in a shallow breath, now tasting the rise of iron in her throat but she struggled to follow… the world becoming hazy with greens and by gut instinct, she knew that without an Omatikaya child to guide her, she couldn’t make it to Hometree.

Her foot slid, sending her catering to the floor with a heavy, winding grunt of pain that seemed to seize through her entire body…. Engulfing her world in white agony and leaving her breathless. White and black dots swirled through her vision before the fires raged down.

Grace coughed, gagging up a wash of red past her lips, idly feeling its heat seep down her chin as her vision clouded with tears, as the pain sharpened up like a twist of hot metal in her gut but she blinked them away as she sucked in another painful breath. Her eyes hazily noticed the white tendrils above her.

Her eyes traveled further, more tendrils that seemed to go as far as her eye could see…

Utral Aymokriyä

Tree of Voices.

Another cough, another rise of red down her chin but Grace found it harder to breathe, sucking in lighter breaths now, her head resting back against the near root of the tree, not even aware how close her queue was to a white tendril that drifted close towards her, favoring towards body heat.

Her fingers slacked from the wound, idly watching the moving motions of the tree's tendrils. Why wasn’t she unlinking from her avatar?

“<Graceaugustine?>” Mo’at’s voice was sudden, distant but alarmed nonetheless.

Grace didn’t have the strength to jump, groaning out as her body tensed instead, her eyes pricking with tears but she felt her ears twitch as Mo’at seemed to appear beside her; her hand much warmer than she expected as she grasped her placid wrist to examine the wound.

“<You’re shot>” Her voice was careful but Grace was sure there was a deeper emotion in the woman’s voice…but she could barely hang onto her words.

Grace struggled to answer, her breath already soft pants, “<can’….catch my breath..>” she complained…”<…RDA….fired through walls… I tried …tried to…get them out…>” Her voice slurred, coughing again but she couldn’t feel anything shift as she wheezed in for air.

“<Grace?>”

“<c-can’t breath…>” Grace could feel her head spin, gasping like a fish but she felt the rise of panic build as she tried to draw in breath. “Can’t…can’t…” the white tree tendril caught the end of her queue which naturally wrapped around the white tendril, her mind filling with soft whispers but that didn’t douse the pain or the panic. Her eyes hazily focused to Mo’at in confusion at the sounds but her form seemed to fizzle away into a bright white tunnel that seemed to flicker with color…

Her body went slack, and the bleeding from her wounds came to a stop as the avatar succumbed to her injuries.

“<Grace!”>

   -

Back at Hells gate, Grace’s human body jolted, arching up with a heavy thump against the coffin-like lid before her body seized up. The heart monitors changing from a calm sleeping beat of fourth-six BPM to a sudden hundred and ticking higher.

The sudden change rang an alarm, kicking the near link technicians into action to the link bed.

“She’s seizing.” The first male technician spoke, lifting the lid quickly.

“No shit,” The woman spoke, hurriedly lifting the second frame before Grace could get tangled in it. “Don’t hold her down; just keep her from rolling. Someone call a med-team!”

It took a few minutes before Grace’s seizure tapered off, the medical team speeding in just as the heart monitor began to rapidly drop.

“Shit, she’s coding.”

Thankfully, the medical team went straight into action, waving away the unnecessary people to create space as they began to perform CPR as a defibrillator began to warm up…

Max Patel watched in fear as Grace was shocked, the only relief was the rising beeps that followed the second shock before the teams loaded her onto the gurney and out.

“Bridges, Send word for all avatars to return to their bed and unlink and run an entire systems check” he ordered, taking control of the shaken silence. “Someone, download all of Link 4’s data and send it straight to my monitor. Jenks, get someone to clean out Link 4’s padding and someone, find out where Grace’s avatar was last seen.”

Only something terrible could have happened to gage that response but he hoped that they had an answer for this sudden and unexpected mess and that Grace would be up on her feet soon enough.

as of 06/06/23, this post was edited and rewritten, the other posts are soon to follow 

not sure how involved i’ll be for this AU, it’s an originally for a BG Variant of Grace but i loved this concept so i thought i’d write out  few of her drabbles, if you like her and this AU, i’ll make a masterpost for you. 

Also, you can find this on AO3 as well

[golden-gypsy]

Blue

Pearl Jam fanfic

Wrote this one-shot about a week or 2 ago when I was sick and just thought I'd share here too in case anyone wants to read. It's also on ao3 and Wattpad. Hope some people enjoy!♡

And of course, this is entirely a work of fiction. All real characters are just used for fictional purposes and nothing more. No disrespect or anything of that nature is meant towards anyone.

Summary: A young woman travels across a desolate landscape with her two companions, searching for something better. But, nothing is quite as it seems.

Warning: I don't think there's any warnings unless you count pg13-ish sexual content... or tobacco use.

Eddie Vedder x ofc

☆☆☆☆☆

The sweat trickled down the nape of her neck as she tiredly lifted one foot, then the other, repeating the process over and over again. They felt heavy, weighed down with fatigue and the unforgiving heat radiating off the sun scorching them from up above. The cloth she had fashioned into a headband was soaked through with sweat, rendering it useless as she wiped the damp from her brow. It burned as it dripped into her eyes, singeing the surface and blurring her vision more so than it already was. Squinting, she looked ahead, trying to sharpen the lines that had long since become muddled together. There wasn't much to see anyway, aside from a few bare trees and patches of dying grass scattered across the barren and hardened landscape.

“Are you okay, Emmy? Do you need to take a break or anything?”

She turned to the voice next to her. Other than his name being Eddie, she didn't know much about him, but she felt like she knew him somehow. From somewhere before here. From another life, perhaps. Because, she knew for a fact that she didn't belong here.

Eddie didn't belong here either.

“Yeah… I think I could sit down for a minute.”

He smiled at her, the slight indent of his dimples barely visible, and pointed to a weathered tree not far ahead. “Let's go there. We'll at least get a little bit of shade.”

She nodded, adjusting the bag she carried on her back and glanced back at the rusted wagon that Eddie was pulling behind him. Mike was asleep in there, face covered with a hat to protect his skin from the sun. They had stumbled across the young boy in a dilapidated house when they were seeking shelter one night. He was alone, said his parents had left to find food but never came back. She and Eddie had waited there with him for close to a week before they were able to convince him to come with them. Mike's parents weren't coming back; she doubted they were even still alive. They asked what few passers-by they crossed paths with if they had any news of his parents, but thus far it had proven to be a useless endeavor. That was another thing though.

Mike didn't belong here either.

They reached the tree, and while the shade was meager, her overheated skin still thanked her for the respite. She pulled the straps of her bag off her shoulders, letting it drop to the ground while she rolled her aching neck in circles. The headband was saturated with sweat, so she untied it, letting her hair fall to her shoulders as she shook it loose. Her curls were dingy and perpetually caked with dust. She couldn't remember a time when they weren't, but she liked to imagine that her dusky hair was once vibrant with color… once upon a time ago.

She had a feeling though…

That somewhere beyond the desolate backdrop, there was a utopia full of everything from her most magnificent dreams.

She knew she didn't belong here.

Eddie was crouched on the ground, unlatching his guitar case. She couldn't remember meeting Eddie; it was like he'd always been there. His guitar as well. How many times had she tried to convince him to get rid of it? It took up space; it wasn't a necessity, but it was all in vain. Eddie was one with that guitar. It was a part of him, and as she watched while his fingers ran lovingly down its neck, she wondered what that might feel like. To be loved by someone like Eddie, cherished even. She couldn't remember if she had ever been loved by anyone.

She didn't mind the guitar so much anymore.

How many times now had he lulled her to sleep with soft strumming and the earthy baritone of his voice? How many times had his blue blue blue eyes met hers while she tried to pretend she wasn't watching him play? How many times… how many times… how many times… she rested her head on his shoulder as he played something she had never heard before. Something new.

Something strangely familiar.

His hair was pulled back, but a few strands had come loose, the earthy stands tickling her forehead. Earthy like his voice. That was her favorite way to describe Eddie. Earthy. A steady, grounding presence who kept her knees from buckling due to the shaking ground beneath her feet.

She couldn't remember a time without Eddie.

The song he played was ethereal in a way. Otherworldly. Like it could guide her through a maze of darkened tunnels, and at the end would be the utopia she dreamed of. Rushing waters, a lush landscape, and she would reach up to sift her fingers through a passing cloud as she drifted down to meet them. For Eddie and Mike would be there too.

Because they didn't belong here.

None of them did.

“What's the name of that one?” she asked after the echo of the final chord faded away.

“Oceans.”

She shifted so that she was looking up at him, his jawline coated in a light stubble. “Hmm… do you think we'll ever see the ocean?”

He smiled down at her, and she wished she could breathe it in. “I have seen the ocean.”

“When?”

“A long time ago.” His face lowered to his guitar again, eyebrows pulled together. “Sometimes I wonder if it was real.”

“I don't think I'll ever see it.”

His eyes met hers again, and they were blue blue blue.

“Maybe you already have, and you just don't remember.”

She watched him, and she could envision him at the ocean. A lone figure on the beach, hair damp from the water instead of sweat and his feet buried in the sand. Maybe that's where he belonged. And she wondered… if maybe she was there with him, in that time she didn't remember. The time before all of this. There would be two figures instead of one. Maybe that's where they both belonged.

She hummed as the images filtered through her head. “What's the song about?”

His grin turned shy as he looked down at his guitar, plucking a few strings before blue became all she could see again. It filled her up and elevated her to the highest of places.

“You've got freckles.”

“What?”

“From the sun.” He wrinkled his nose. “Right here on your nose.” His thumb gently swiped down the side of hers.

“Oh.” Her fingers ran over her nose, down the side of her cheek. “I didn't realize.”

“It's cute.”

She didn't realize it at the time, but he never answered the question. He was good at that, evading, only offering bits and pieces at a time. Maybe that's because she had nothing to give in return. After all, she couldn't remember her life before Eddie. 

“I'm hungry.” 

Mike's voice startled her, and she jumped as she peered over her shoulder at him. He was sitting up in the wagon, long dark hair matted on one side of his head. Persuading him to sit still while she brushed it was never easy, but cutting it was not an option. Anytime the suggestion was made, he recoiled, tears welling up in his sad brown eyes. At some point, she'd have to trim it though. It was already well past his shoulders.

Eddie nudged her with his elbow, drawing her attention back to shades of blue. “By the time we finish eating, it'll be getting dark. Why don't we just stay here tonight?”

“Out in the open?”

“It's far-off from the road.”

“Do you think we'll be okay?”

“Don't worry.” He smirked, his dimples making another appearance. “I won't let anything happen to you.”

She rolled her eyes and stood up to grab the canned vegetable soup from her pack. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know.”

They were running low on food, but that was something to worry about tomorrow. Maybe they'd find another abandoned store or a community with some friendly people, but that was something to think about tomorrow. Tonight, they'd fill their bellies with the soup she cooked on the fire, and maybe Eddie would tell them stories of distant and not so distant places that would ignite her imagination into roaring flames.

The temperature always dropped once the sun set, from one extreme to another. She wanted nothing more than to keep the fire burning, but it would attract attention from those who could possibly be traveling along the far-off road or beyond. And if there was one thing she could never forget, it was that it was that the people who roamed at night often carried ill intentions.

So, the three of them sat wrapped in blankets around the dying campfire, counting down the long-forgotten minutes until sleep claimed them. Tomorrow, the worries would return, and they would set out on foot towards their next destination… whatever that may be. And it would go on and on and on, with no end in sight. Sometimes she wondered where exactly they were trying to get to.

“Will you play a song, Eddie?” Mike asked, his face peeking out from under his blanket.

“Um, yeah. What do you wanna hear?”

Emmy sat forward, wrapping her blanket tighter around herself. “Play the one you played earlier. Oceans.”

His eyes caught hers with a soft smile, and he reached for his guitar. An extension of himself, and she could see the sea of blue that encompassed him.

She didn't mind the guitar so much anymore.

He played the song, and it was just as lovely as before. Maybe more so, if such a thing were even possible. If he wasn't the ground beneath her, she'd worry that it would split open and swallow her whole. But, Eddie was the earth, and his eyes were the sky, and the ocean was his essence. She was waiting for the day when he'd spread his wings and fly.

But…

She didn't recall a time before Eddie. 

And she didn't know if time would remain after Eddie. 

The weight on her arm was nothing more than a sleeping Mike, lulled to sleep by the sound of earth's embrace. She understood; how many times had that happened to her now? Countless upon countless, dream after dream. A million different lifetimes that were somehow carried by the same background music.

She wondered what she'd dream of tonight.

She actually kind of liked the guitar now.

Eddie carried Mike to the wagon, lined with a blanket to add some cushion. She and Eddie would lay their blankets on the ground nearby, using their packs as makeshift pillows. They never slept at the same time though, alternating who kept watch while the other one would try to secure a few hours of sleep. The persistent fatigue was a never-ending battle.

“I'll take the first watch,” Eddie said after Mike was secure in the wagon.

“You barely slept at all last night. I'll take first watch.”

“I don't need a lot.”

“Just try then. I'll wake you up before too long.”

That was a lie. If he succeeded in falling asleep, she wouldn't wake him any sooner than need be. Maybe she wouldn't wake him at all. Eddie was constantly going without, letting her sleep that extra amount of time while his own body was further depleted of energy.

She would be fine, sitting and watching the stars, knowing that Eddie and Mike were safely sleeping beside her.

She didn't know how life would be without them.

Her back was against the weathered tree as she sat, listening to sounds of their breathing fill the night. Everything else was silent. She felt like maybe she remembered the chirping of crickets, maybe the hoot of an owl, but she couldn't recall where those thoughts came from. But, it seemed like, at one point in time, that the night wasn't engulfed in such silence.

Their breathing was a comfort though. It was a reminder that she wasn't alone. Even though she would never admit it, that was what scared her the most. Being alone in the world the way it was. She had people to take care of her though, and in turn, she would take care of them too.

“Emmy?”

Her head was tilted up toward the sky, and she turned to see Eddie lying on his side with his head propped on his arm. His hair was a wild tangle of curls around his face, and she wanted to reach out to smooth it away with her fingers, but she didn't dare do so.

“You're already awake?”

“You let me sleep too long.” His voice was raspy with sleep.

“Not long enough.”

He shook his head and patted the space next to him. “Come sit with me.”

Her eyes stayed focused on his smile as she sat beside him, legs folded underneath her.

“Not like that.” His arms reached towards her, hands pulling her down faster than her body would allow her to react. 

She lost her breath temporarily, as if she forgot how. His face was so close to her own that maybe her not breathing was a conscious choice, fear that any slight movement would cause the moment to disappear. They were facing each other, side by side under a dingy blanket, his hand resting lightly on her hip. If she moved or even breathed, she worried she would lose the warm weight of his hand. She wanted it to stay.

She wanted him to stay.

“That's better,” he said, his thumb moving up and down, up and down.

“What was wrong with how I was sitting?” she dared to ask.

“You looked uncomfortable.” He lifted his shoulder in an easy shrug.

The motion caused her hand to shift, and she noticed… only then… the placement on his chest, below his shoulder, almost where his heart dwelled. She could feel the beating underneath the palm of her hand, a steady pulse to show that they were living and breathing… and existing. Her fingers curled into the thin fabric of his shirt, a reflex, almost as if she wanted to soak in the life that thrummed beneath her fingertips. Draw it closer. Bask in the light that radiated off the earth and the sky and the ocean.

“We both can't fall asleep.” Her voice was a whisper, flitting away on tiny, shaking wings. 

“I'm not falling asleep. I just want to lie here with you for a while.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

She thought again of the song he played earlier, Oceans, and how he said he had seen the ocean before. All she could remember of her life were days spent walking on the lifeless world she found herself in. It didn't seem real that oceans could even exist, but she believed what Eddie told her was true. She knew he would never lie to her. That was one of the few things she could count on, and it was so rare to have anything to count on.

“Why are you so tense?” he asked, and she didn't have to look to know he was smiling.

“I'm not.”

“You should relax.”

“I am,” she countered.

“You're not. Am I making you nervous?”

She allowed her gaze to lift up to blue blue blue, his worry showing itself in the lines creasing his forehead. He had a way of transitioning so easily from playful to intense. It made her head spin at times, dizziness just by being in his presence.

Her fingers smoothed over the fabric of his shirt. “You could never make me nervous, Eddie.”

That wasn't quite the truth though. Eddie made her nervous all the time, simply with his close proximity. It was such a strange swirling of contrasting feelings… because he was a comfort too. He comforted her all the time. That very same mixture swelled up inside her with the touch of his fingers on her bare skin, just underneath the hem of her shirt. It was a hesitant touch, like maybe how he would dip his toes in the ocean water to test the temperature. She could see him doing that.

She could also see him running in at full speed.

“Can I ask you a question?” she breathed as his fingers ghosted higher.

“Of course.”

“Do you think we'll ever find what we're looking for?”

She watched as his eyelashes brushed against the tops of his cheeks, and she wanted to run her fingertips just underneath them. But, she didn't dare do so.

His fingers were higher still, moving along her ribcage, and her skin tingled everywhere he touched. For who can say they were touched by the earth and the sky and the ocean all at once? The feeling was new, yet familiar. He was familiar, and he was here with her, there with her… just as he'd always been.

They didn't belong here.

Those same eyelashes rose again, and time could have stopped for all she knew. Maybe it already did. Maybe these were the last moments she'd spend on this godforsaken land. That would be alright with her. She'd see Eddie in the next life and the one after.

“I think…” he said as the tip of one of his fingers brushed against the underside of her breast. “I think that we already have.”

Was he right? They had each other. The three of them. They were something like a family.

A family…

It was getting harder to think. Her mind was hazy, and all she could see was blue blue blue. It was everywhere. In the sky above her, in the earth beneath her, in the ocean that she may or may not have seen. It was in the touch of his warm fingers on her cool skin, imprinting her with currents of blue. It was in her thoughts, as all she could focus on was how she wanted him to move his fingers higher still.

And he did… 

And he did… 

And he did.

“I can still see the blue in your eyes, even in the dark.” His voice was a gentle wave, washing over the sea of blue. 

“Me too.”

His fingers moved in such a deliciously tortuous way, and nothing else existed in that moment aside from the two of them. She could see him through the fog of her vision as if he were the only thing that made sense. The only thing that was clear. The only thing that was true in their world full of deceit. His lips only barely brushed against hers for a fraction of a second, maybe less, but it was something she'd never experienced before. The frailty of the wind seemed to pick up speed. The tree behind them seemed to shake from its roots to the tips of its branches. The ground seemed to tremble as if their world would soon fall apart.

The air changed, and it was magnetic. It was dragging her away as she fought to stay closer.

Could Eddie feel it too?

It was only less than a second, but the signs were there.

“I had a bad dream.”

Mike.

They pulled away from each other simultaneously. She could see hints of fervor in that blue blue blue.

Maybe Eddie did feel it too.

“Come on,” she told Mike, lifting the blanket. 

Eddie patted his head, exhaling slowly. “I'm going to go keep watch.”

Her eyes unintentionally followed him as he took her former place at the base of the weathered tree. He leaned his head back against the trunk, gazing at the stars between the gaps in the branches, and she thought maybe Eddie could reach out and grab one if he felt so inclined. Something about him told her that it would be possible for him to.

Mike curled up next to her under the blanket, soon fast asleep. It wasn't long before she drifted off herself, thinking about Eddie and the stars in the sky.

She dreamed of the ocean that night, of what she thought it might be. Mike was sitting beside her on the sand as they built a castle. An elaborate castle, with turrets, walkways with parapets, and a moat surrounding the outside of the castle walls. It resembled what she thought a castle might look like, for she'd never seen a castle before, and it grew higher and higher, wider and wider. Mike's laughter danced across the surface of the sand, and she'd never seen him so happy. She wanted the sounds of his laughter to last forever.

A shadow was cast over their ever-growing castle. She knew not to be frightened though. It was a face she'd seen time and time again. His hair was damp from water instead of sweat, and his feet were buried in the sand. The light reflected off his eyes, and they were a bright, clear blue blue blue. They were almost crystal-like, and he stood in front of the sun so that the yellows and oranges surrounded him in a brilliant halo sent from the heavens above. He was beautiful. Painfully so. And she wanted to reach out and touch him, but she didn't dare do so.

This was where Eddie belonged.

He stood over her, tucking a water-soaked curl behind his ear. “I thought I might find you here.”

“You did?”

“Of course.” The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. “This is where you belong.”

And that's what she wanted.

She wanted to belong.

The next day was the same as any other. They woke up and ate some dried-out bread she had made some days before, taking small sips of water. Everything had to be taken in moderation; none of them knew when they would stumble across more supplies or even a source of water. They carried four jugs for water and only had two left that were full. She always found herself becoming anxious once they reached the two-jug mark. The water went too fast, and she wished they could find a way to carry more… not just water though, more of everything.

But, more than anything, she wished the land around them wasn't dying.

Eddie didn't mention anything about the night before… but then, she didn't either. A part of her couldn't help but wonder if it even happened. But, she could still feel the sensation of his touch along her skin, and she shivered more than once even in the unforgiving heat of the daylight. So… it had to be real. It couldn't have been just a prelude to her dream from last night.

Her dream… 

The utopia that she prayed for every night to magically appear just beyond the next hill.

Or maybe the next…

The last hill.

“I hope we find water today,” she said after they had walked a long while in silence.

Eddie turned to her, a hint of a smile playing along his lips. “We'll find some. Don't worry.”

Her eyes were drawn automatically to his mouth, the curve of his lips, the indent of his dimples. The brief moment in time when she felt them against her own was permanently ingrained in a corner of her mind. She'd keep it there and pull it to the forefront every so often to reminisce upon in case it were to never happen again; she didn't want to forget.

Eddie's grin grew wider, and she knew he must have noticed her staring, stealing fleeting glances as they walked and walked… and walked. His pace slowed, and he inched closer to her, holding out his hand without saying a word. She looked down at his fingers stretched out toward her, his grin softening as he took in her hesitancy. But, she didn't want to think too much about it and whatever implications it could hold. It may have meant nothing but merely a friendly gesture, and she didn't want to think of the burning that would leave inside.

She interlaced her fingers with his before her doubt could lead her away. Because she wanted to be closer to Eddie, and she smiled to herself with the knowledge that maybe she already was.

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze as they continued walking. “You should smile more often.”

And she realized that maybe she should.

They didn't take many breaks as they traveled, wanting to cover as much distance as they could before the sun set. The landscape hadn't changed at all throughout the last days and the nights and the yearning for something more to come along. As it did every day, her vision became blurry in the blistering heat, the outer edges turning in their slow and lazy vibrations. The sweat trickled down her back, clogged up her nose, and caused her clothes to attach to her skin. But, she still held Eddie's hand as they wandered forward, and he never tried to pull away as he walked in the center of their group. Her on one side and Mike on the other.

They were almost like her family.

Maybe they were her family, one that she created all on her own.

“Hey, what's that?” Mike asked, his tiny hand pointing up ahead.

She saw it then, a wooden house in the distance. Chances were it was abandoned, and they could only hope that it wasn't cleaned dry from previous passers-by. It was rare to find a solitary house that was still lived in. Sometimes they'd come across small communities, communal-type living where everyone played a role, and in return, protection was provided through larger numbers. She never questioned why they didn't stay in one of those communities. It would have seemed like the wise thing to do, but it never fit quite right. There was something else waiting for them out there, and it propelled their feet to keep moving.

But, to find a lone lived-in house? That was the biggest rarity of all. Simply because it was too dangerous, too easy for someone to come in and take over. Some of the things that people would do were too horrific to even think about.

As they neared the small wooden house though, the sight of something caused her to grip Eddie's hand tighter, caused him to let go of the wagon to shield Mike with his other arm.

Not something though.

Someone.

Two someones rocking on a swing on the front porch.

One of them had his long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, taking a slow draw of the cigarette sitting between two fingers. The other one looked taller, and he wore a straw hat decorated with a blue and purple striped band covering his long blonde hair.

She let go of Eddie's hand and took a few steps closer.

“Emmy, what are you doing?” he asked urgently.

She ignored Eddie and spoke to the two men instead. “I know you.”

“Yup,” the one with the cigarette replied.

What was his name?

Her feet carried her up the few rickety steps until she stood before them. She heard Eddie telling Mike to stay back before the creaking of the steps told her that Eddie was behind her. Really though, she didn't need to hear the steps to know; she could feel his presence from anywhere. 

He was her earth and her sky and her ocean all at the same time.

She pointed to the cigarette that ponytail held. “Can I have one?”

Stone. His name was Stone.

“I didn't know you smoke.” Eddie's puzzled voice behind her shook her eardrums, as only the earth could.

She didn't either, but it seemed like something she'd do. In that moment.

“There's a lot about me you don’t know.”

His eyes flickered over the features of her face before he answered. “I know.”

The one named Stone handed her a cigarette and held up the lighter to ignite the tip. She leaned forward to accept the open flame, but instead of hazel hues, she was met with blue blue blue. As far as her eyes could see, it was blue.

She inhaled the burning smoke down her throat, into her lungs, staring into Eddie's searching eyes as he passed the lighter back to Stone. He had a way of looking past her, through her, into the heart of her that she didn't know existed. It was in that way that he could both calm her and send a shock through every nerve in her body.

But, she knew now where he belonged, and it wasn't here. 

She hoped she could remember.

Eddie delicately removed the cigarette from her fingers, before she was even done with her exhale. As he brought it to his own lips, she was reminded of their almost kiss, how his mouth was now where hers once was. It was silly to think of something like that at that moment, but one can hardly help where the mind wanders at times. Even at this most critical juncture, when her thoughts should have been elsewhere, it was always him. Always.

“What is this place?” Eddie asked the two men on the swing, his eyes never straying from hers.

The one in the hat answered. “You don't wanna go in there.”

And his name was Jeff. 

She knew that now.

Eddie's head jerked to the side. “Why not?”

“Because no one who goes in there ever comes out,” Jeff said.

There was no explanation why. It was simply that. She knew it to be true though… somehow. Maybe for the same reason that she knew their names. Stone and Jeff. They were strangers, but still she could recognize their faces.

She stepped around Eddie, coming to stand in front of the door that led inside the house that was full of unknowns. It could be her demise, but she had to go open the door.

Eddie's hand found hers again. One last time. Or not. The possibilities were endless. “What are you doing?”

“I have to go in.”

“Why?”

She couldn't give him the answer he wanted, whatever that was. Her head shook as she gazed into those eyes that were so blue blue blue, the song he sang playing in her head as she saw his hair damp from water instead of sweat and his feet buried in the sand. It was the loveliest of visions, and she ached for it to come true.

She had to go in.

“Will you sing that song for me?” she asked him.

“What?”

“Oceans.”

He squinted at her as though she were crazy. Maybe she was. “You want me to sing it now?”

“Will you?” She took his hand in both of hers. “Please?”

And he did… 

And he did… 

And he did.

It was just as beautiful as the night before. If not more so. Because while his eyes were the sky, lifting her up so she could fly… his voice was the earth, destined to make sure her feet landed safely on the ground. And the song… the song was his essence as currents rolled above and beneath him, through him and around him.

That's where he belonged.

“I'm scared,” she said after he finished his song.

His hands clasped around the top of her shoulders, eyes intense in that particular way that only he could manage. “I won't let anything happen to you.”

She knew he'd never lie to her. That was one of the few things she could depend on in a world so full of falsity. And it convinced her that she needed to follow through as she reached behind her and turned the knob, the door swinging wide open. It was almost time, but there was still something left unshared. A final chapter to close the story, but it was just part one. There would be many chapters left to come as there was still the next life and the next… and the one after.

Her hands cupped both his cheeks as she held his face close to her own. Closer… closer… and closer still. She worried what would happen as the air began to shift around them. The signs were there, but she didn't want to live in the regret that she didn't know.

His breath fanned across her face as he drew her nearer, and she caught it as she pressed her lips to his in what was the ultimate defiance. They weren't supposed to be here, but they belonged somewhere… together. 

And just as Eddie was the earth and the sky and the ocean, she was the fire, burning the fraying ends away one strand at a time. The heat from the flames swelled up inside of her until it was too much to contain. It spread forth, nearly uncontrollable as his fingers sifted through her hair and her hands clung to the front of his shirt. They were the only two left on the planet, and it seemed inconsequential that the ground finally cracked and split, lava spewing forth and lapping at their feet as a cruel reminder of what was to come.

It should have been water.

But, the signs were all there.

The heat burned holes in everything it touched, but he held her close, and she didn't want to let him go. She didn't want to… because as his two lips continued to move against her own, she could feel it. Something new and something oh so wonderfully familiar.

Why did she have to let him go?

She could see him disintegrating away, or maybe it was her. And she wanted to hold on, for she suddenly feared she may never see him again. But, Eddie was the earth, and his eyes were the sky, and his essence was the ocean, and she knew somewhere deep within that he would never spread his wings and fly…  not without her. He would carry her with him wherever he chose to go.

He could go wherever he wanted to go, and yet he chose her.

The water would one day be enough to put out the fire.

And then, he was gone.

… 

…

…

She sat up straight in bed and wiped the cold sweat from her brow. The room she was in was small, too much so to hold many things aside from her bed. That was alright with her though; she didn't require much anyway. The tiny round window gave a view of the artificial neon lights and the smoky pollution that lived outside. She felt like she needed to be somewhere, but she couldn't remember where.

Her head swiveled to the side when she heard a knock at the door. 

“Emmy,” the voice called. “Are you ready?”

“I'm here,” she answered in a voice that she guessed must have belonged to her. “You can come in.”

The person outside her door could have been crazy, but she had a feeling…

“What are you doing still in bed?” he asked as he entered her room.

“Um…”

All she could see was blue blue blue. The neon created dancing light specks in his eyes.

“You need to get up. We're gonna get the shit beat out of us if we're late.”

She was confused, but what he said almost made sense; she felt the ache of bruises on her back. “Late for what?”

He stared at her as if she had two heads. Hell, maybe she did. “For work. Come on, we need to go.”

That's right, they had to go to work. That sounded right… but then, it wasn't.

No, it wasn't right at all.

She didn't belong here.

Eddie didn't belong here either.