#two or three random parts of a song just looping in my head

[nintendont2502]

Lmao I found this old video I made to try and explain what my mind sounds like most of the time and its. Pretty accurate

(warning for just way too many sounds playing at once. Seriously it isn't a fun time lmao)

[forgeofthenine]

Not a request this time, just a little fic based off the song 'Mrs Hollywood' by Go-Jo. Reader is Tav and they/them pronouns are used throughout.

Hopefully you guys enjoy, next one up will be a set of headcanons :)

The three times you leave Dammon, and the one time you stay

the first time

The excitement reaches its peak around the forge, tieflings bustling to and fro as they prepare. Dammon pauses at his forge, wiping the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand before turning towards the familiar crunch of gravel.

"Hey stranger." He jokes, turning towards you. "Or maybe I should call you 'our hero' now." The correction comes as he turns fully, eyes taking in the figure before him.

God he wishes they could stay, that he and his forge could be enough. But they have their destiny ahead of them. Dammon is already sure he'll be but a small part.

"I heard you weren't coming to the party, I wanted to say goodbye to my favourite blacksmith." His chest tightens as you say the words, not wanting to let you leave, but Dammons knows this is how things need to be.

"It's hardly goodbye, you'll see us again soon, won't you?" The question is one neither can really know the answer to, but they smile and nod anyway and that's enough for Dammon.

The second time

They'd been lounging on the hay in his forge, two days of idle chatting as he worked and asking that ox with much to human eyes random questions.

The assault on Ketheric Thorm has kept them all busy, Dammon at his forge, them trying to form a plan. "What if I just have Gale disintegrate him, Dammon?" The question comes from the corner of the room, where they sit by the open arches.

"Can Gale disintegrate him?" Dammon asks, pulling back from his whetstone. "Maybe you should just use this." He gives the sword a little flourish, holding it out to them. Jumping from the mess of a hay bale, they reach for the sword.

"Oh, this is beautiful..." hands delicately take it, admiring it before stowing it away safe in it's sheath. Just as Dammon thinks nothing they do could surprise him, they're already pulling him into a hug.

Arms wrap tight around his chest as they press in close to him. "Thank you Dammon, I feel like my words just aren't enough." They murmur, Dammons own arms looping close around their waist.

"Just come back alive, that's enough, don't keep me here waiting."

The third time

Rolans words pause as the footfalls of boots echo up the stairs to Dammons new forge, and the blacksmiths attention turns towards the potential customer.

Excitement courses through Dammon as he sees them crest the top of the stairs, a bright smile adorning their face as they wave. "Hi Dammon! Oh, is Rolan here too?" They ask, looking between the two tieflings.

"A few things broke at his new tower during your fight, I'm just giving a quote at how much it'll be to fix." Dammon explains, seeing the way Rolan eyes how his tail sways as he focuses attention on them. It's hard to contain himself, but they'll never know or realise, the way his body reacts only obvious to other Tieflings.

"Well, I know you're busy, but I needed someone to look at my sword. It took a bit of a beating while we were, uh, doing an errand for Astarion." The end sounds more like question than fact, but Dammon hardly minds as he carefully takes the sword from their hands.

"No problem, I'll have it done by tomorrow. So long as the absolute don't invade the city by then." He winks at them, smiling as they laugh and turn away.

"I'll be back, then!" They throw up a hand as they start to walk away. "See you later Dammon, bye Rolan. As they leave a steady silence falls over the two men, Rolans eyebrow raising slightly.

"Still waiting in line for them, then, prince charming?"

Dammons only reply is to hang his head in his hands.

The time you stay

Parties rage through the streets, the celebration of the absolutes control finally being destroyed. Fireworks fizz and pop outside, children shout and squeal, men sing merry drinking songs.

It's no surprise Dammon stays inside. He's never been one for parties, that much is obvious. What is less obvious is why someone is knocking on his door so late.

Opening it with a stifled yawn, he soon sees the very object of his affections. Standing up straighter, opening the door wider to let them in, one question runs through his mind. "What could bring you here on a night like this?" He's in near disbelief, almost wondering if he nodded off as is dreaming.

"The parties are great and all but..." they trail off, looking down to their feel as they toe the wooden floor. Glancing up again, they finish their thought. "But they don't include you, Dammon."

He can't help the way he pulls them in by the arm, this time being the one to start the impromptu hug. Tail wrapping loosely around their leg as they sigh against his chest, Dammon feels the way their body sags against him.

"Stay." He tells them, face pressing into their hair, bodies curling around each other. "Stay with me this time, I've been waiting so long." The hands gripping his clothing hold him tighter, their face pulling from his chest to look him in the eye.

"Kiss me Dammon. I won't be leaving again." They barely get to finish their sentence, a hand finding the side of their face as Dammon does the very thing he's dreamt about for so long.

Even the fireworks outside can't compare to the ones when they finally kiss.

[aprilthearcher]

burning red [roman roy x reader]

word count: 1.8k

[somewhat angst]

warnings: curse words, ooc roman ?, english is not my first language, not edited, rushed ending.

a/n: somewhat inspired by “red” and “false god” by taylor, idk i was just listening to these two songs on loop. i’m also supposed to be studying, but instead i wrote this, so enjoy! love me some greg sprinkles, couldn’t not include him. alsooo, this could read as being part of the same story as my previous roman blurb, but you won't have any problems if you haven't read it.

Loving Roman was complicated yet insanely easy, too tiresome at times and then incredibly invigorating. He had that effect on people, or maybe just her. Everyone else was probably too complicated for her to like. Not funny enough, not witty or smart enough, not loud enough. No one was Roman enough, not even across the whole damn world. 

Getting him off her mind had been more difficult than she’d expected, probably because (Y/N) only realised her feelings for him after she couldn’t stop thinking about him. He had taken over her whole body without knowing. It was Roman’s lips she imagined when kissing blonde, ginger, brunette guys at pubs; it were Roman’s eyes she thought of when her friends would ask her about her favourite colour; it was Roman’s face she conjured up in her head when they’d ask about her type of man. 

At first, she believed it to be some sort of sick joke the Universe was trying to play on her: discovering she had feelings for her long-time friend — one she’d known since they were in diapers, who would grab her by her ponytail whenever she was paying attention to his siblings instead of him (just him) —, barely two or three weeks in her first year of university, a university that was on a whole other continent, separated by an entire ocean. Still, (Y/N) knew she could fly back home in a couple of hours — “I’ll arrange a jet for you if you wanna come down”, her dad would always say over the phone —, but the idea of seeing him again with this new information in her head and heart (that couldn’t help but jump at the mention of him) terrified her.

Her mind would make her remember him and his antics in the worst possible times: while dancing with some random guy at a club, his hands on her hips, the cheap cologne contrasting the rich scented one Roman couldn’t get enough of. On a first date, set up by her friends who believed she had to let go of this “prude” behaviour and just let someone take her to their bed. When joking with the guys that approached her and her friends at the bar, knowing exactly what Roman would think of them, the cruel comments he’d throw, the silly faces. The soft eyes when they were both too drunk to even speak a coherent sentence, although most times nothing was coherent with Roman. She had tried looking for those same bright eyes; once more, she ended up disappointed. None of them were Roman. None of them ever will be, no matter how much (Y/N) tried to shape them into a replica of him. All of Roman was unique. 

Hence, the dreadful turmoil inside her stomach once Shiv, with some tint of malice in her eyes directed at Roman, introduced her to Tabitha. “Roman’s companion”, she’d said. The blonde, curly haired woman greeted (Y/N) with an eager smile on her face. She said her name at the same time both of them shook hands. A voice inside her head told her this was all wrong. How long? Where did it happen? Why? Why? Why now that she was back?

“Oh, you don’t need to tell me your name,” Tabitha mentioned playfully, a short roll of her eyes a second later. “You’re all Roman’s been talking about lately”.

“Only lately?” Shiv laughed, taking a sip from her glass she focused her eyes on Roman , then (Y/N). “Roman’s always talking about (Y/N). I mean, he was practically her lap dog when they were children.”

“Oh, fuck off Siobhan,” Roman bark back.

“Well, he only mentioned you as of now.” The knot in her stomach tightened. The worst part was she could see Tabitha hadn’t said it out of spite, nor jealousy, but as a fleeting comment to add something more to the conversation.

He hadn’t mentioned her to Tabitha? Not even once? She had tried everything to block him out of her head, to keep him out of her dreams and fantasies; to catch herself every time she was going to bring up him in a conversation again, and he didn’t say her name until he found out (Y/N) was coming back to New York? What kind of sick fuck was he? What kind of sick fuck was she, devoting probably her whole life to Roman fucking Roy?

“Oh,” (Y/N) managed to croak out before her father appeared beside her and whispered in her ear that she should spend some time chatting with the other guests.

                                                       * * *

Cousin Greg was great company, quite weird before you took in the awkwardness that seemed to surround him and make him stick out like a sore thumb in the midst of all these old, rich people, but great nonetheless. He had asked her about her years in London, what she studied and what she did for fun, her friends and hobbies. (Y/N) found herself enjoying the night, sitting on a couch by his side, meanwhile both of their cheeks were getting rosier and rosier with every new cup of alcohol brought to them. Greg was in the middle of telling her about how he had screwed up the first day at his job on one of the parks owned by Waystar, cracking up from time to time from how she tried to hide her laugh in order to keep the attention away from them, when two hands settled on his shoulders, hard and making a noise that was apparent that the gesture was meant to at least hurt him a little. Roman was behind him with a clench jaw and big, maniac eyes. 

“Greeeg, I think Tom was looking for you, man”.

“Oh, really?” Greg turned his upper body in Roman’s direction, which from the side looked somewhat weird because of his tall, lanky form. “Because, because I just saw him and he didn’t say anything”.

“Yes, oh really, man. And he said if you didn’t go talk to him right now, he would fire your sorry ass”.

Greg was on his feet quicker than she'd expected after seeing him drown glass after glass with her. He towered over her for a moment, saying a quick “see you later” before going in search of Tom. 

“You’re mean, Roman”.

“Yeah, well, tell me something I don’t fucking know”. 

They fell silent for a second. Around them, people were still in mindless conversation, setting down empty cups on the waiter’s tray while picking up new ones from another one. Alcohol seemed to be the only way to survive a family gathering at the Roy’s, even a harmless one. 

“You wanna get out of here?” Roman asked. She turned her head to the right to face him, he was already looking at her. His eyes no longer had the maniac fog blurring them, there was now a tranquil pool of honey.

                                                    ***

“My dad is probably gonna be mad if he finds out I ditched the party”.

“Please, (Y/N), since when did you become such a goody two shoes?” Roman leaned against the railing of the terrace, following her with his eyes while she approached him and finally set her elbows on top of the banister. From this position, he looked taller. “Don’t tell me you were like this in London. I mean, with no one to hover over you, you sure had a looot to do, didn’t you?”

“I went to London to study, remember? Not to go out and get drunk every night.”

“Well, I’m sure if you had been with me, you could’ve done both.”

“Yeah, probably, but you weren’t with me.”

“Whose fault is that, huh?” He crossed his arms over his chest. Her eyebrows raised.

“Are you saying it was my fault? We haven’t seen each other for how long and it was all my fault?”

“Why are you acting like it isn’t? It literally is, (Y/N), you left m.. you left and, and you never came back.” He had walked a few steps away from her. 

“It’s not like you couldn’t have visited, Roman. Just ask daddy for one of his jets, it’s literally that easy.”

“Yes, but - but you left, (Y/N). You left, and it’s not like you chose some university a state away, you chose one a whole continent away! That’s got to mean something!”

“As if Roman fucking Roy couldn’t get one goddamn plane and fly over to London!” She had abandoned her previous position, now fully facing Roman, who was still a couple of feet away, getting closer to the door. He was trying to run, just like it he always did whenever they fought.

“I didn’t - I didn’t want you to get annoyed by me! To realise what a true moron I was. Then you barely talked to me after you arrived at your fancy university and - and started your very difficult subjects.”

(Y/N) closed her eyes in confusion for a moment. Though it was easier to throw everything at him, (Y/N) knew that she was also responsible for their lack of communication over these last years. 

Only the bustling, almost never-ending nightlife of New York could be heard. Her chest hurted, her eyes would fill with tears at any point now. She was tired and drunk, and just fucking missed Roman too much for them to be fighting the first night she was back in the city.

“Now you are not saying anything?” Roman broke the silence. He was closer to the door, she noticed. “You know what? Fuck you, (Y/N). Fuck you for making feel all this – all this fucking, fucking shit!”

“What fucking shit?” She asked quietly, desperate for an answer, the answer.

“I - I don’t know what fucking shit, just shit, okay?”

“Say it.”

Roman didn’t respond, instead he turned her back on her, walking towards the door. Before he could reach the handle, she screamed at him.

“Fucking say it, Roman.”

“I’ve just told you, I don’t know. It’s just shit, okay? All of it,” he screamed back, opening up his arms, exaggerating his point. “I - I run out of breath and then my chest is all funny, and and I hate seeing you laughing with fucking Greg of all people. It’s shit, fucking shit!”

Drawing closer to him, she tested his limits. He was breathing hard from all the screaming and moving around the terrace to put distance between them, but he didn’t stop when (Y/N) got so close their bodies were almost touching. It was her with whom physical closeness wasn’t a problem, he always told himself it was because of how close they were pretty much their whole lives.

They only looked at each other for a few moments, the waves of conflict had calmed down fast and efficiently enough that for anyone else it would seem like nothing had happened between them. 

Roman wished — deep, deep down — that they could stay like this forever, without having to go back and confront his family, especially his father; that they could make this terrace, above Logan’s place ironically enough, a little haven, only for them; that they would never be found.

[silentglassbreak]

Fragmented

Noah Sebastian x OFC

I wrote this over a few days. I’ve been so busy but tomorrow I can get on and really get digging into this. I know it’s been up and down, but there is a distinct reason for that! Thank you for being here with me. I love you! 🖤

Warnings: Angry smut. Also, brief description of animal violence/death. (Used in a metaphor, but still…)

+It goes without saying. This is a work of fiction. My words are mine. Plagiarism is a crime.

Taglist: @flowery-mess @lma1986 @myownthoughts12 @poisongirl616 @missduffsblog @reidsblessing @malerieee @jilliemiw86 @thisbicc @knivesforapro @diabolicdiatonics

Part 6 - Chemical

Two months is a long time. It’s longer when you’re trying to right the world back on some kind of normal axis, preventing it from spinning out of control. It’s a very long time to live and breathe when you’re not entirely convinced that you want to. It’s a long time.

But you know what they say about time.

Slowly, I was starting to feel like a human being again. It was with effort, but I didn’t have a lot of a choice. Mileena and I split time with Addison, I had her three days, she had her four. Sundays through Tuesdays were my days, and Mileena picked her up Wednesday mornings.

Seeing Mileena was becoming…easier? Bearable is probably a better word.

Make no mistake, I pined for Leena each time I laid eyes on her. It was still just a true chemical reaction. But after several weeks, the searing hot pain that burned through my chest had dulled to a throbbing ache, only subtly reminding me that happiness was still living at Laura’s, wearing the t-shirts I let her keep.

Didn’t mean I didn’t think about it. Picture her naked anytime I saw her. Thought about her perfect, plump lips wrapped around me while I touched myself. Played the song of her begging me to fuck her in my head on loop at random moments of the day. That wasn’t going away anytime soon.

There had been no repeat incidents of our single moment of weakness, much to my dismay. I understood. How could we be broken up, when we’re fucking? How badly would that confuse Addison? Or ourselves?

It made sense.

So when I pulled up to Nick's, and saw Leena's Tahoe in the driveway, I only let myself sit and sulk for three minutes before I promptly hopped out, heading for the front door.

"Honey! I'm home!" I called from just inside the doorway.

"In the kitchen!" I heard Nick's voice call to me. I kicked my Vans off by the door, and walked at a natural pace into the kitchen. As expected, Nick stood staring into the fridge, and Mileena was stood in front of the stove, slipping the end of a spatula under a grilled cheese sandwich in a skillet.

"We're out of Cheddar. I've got American?"

Leena nodded toward Nick, then glanced over to me. Her smile was comfortable, soft. "Hey, you."

God, that voice is going to fucking kill me.

"Hey." I leaned against the counter on the opposite side of the kitchen. "Didn't know you were going to be here?"

She scoffed, shaking her head. "Sorry? I didn't know you were going to be here either."

"Kids, play nice." We both looked over at Nick, who was lifting a beer bottle to his lips.

I promptly balled up a paper towel from the holder, and chucked it at him, bouncing it off of his forehead. He glared, and I smiled as widely as I could.

"I just mean, I don't want to intrude." I looked back to Leena, who was plating the sandwich, another already prepared to cook.

"Oh no, I'm not staying long. I just had to drop off a few things, and Nick can't cook, so I decided to make him lunch before I left."

I didn't say anything, just crossed my arms. Simple.

"You want a sandwich?"

I wanted to say no, but my stomach was whining at me.

"Sure."

"Still like two slices of cheese with ham in the middle?"

I just stared at her, because it was always small things like that - knowing how I liked my grilled cheese, or my mashed potatoes (extra butter, chives, no sour cream), or brussel sprouts (which I will only eat if she cooks them) - that punched me straight in the gut, reminding me that she was mine. Somewhere, deep down, cosmically, she was. And always will be.

I swallowed my sandwich in four bites, sitting at the table with Nick and Leena, just listening to their calm conversations.

"Our album is almost finished, I think. The label isn't putting pressure on, so we've had room to just focus."

She smiled at him, tearing the corner off of her bread and eating it in pieces.

"Yeah? How do you guys feel about it?"

She was technically talking to Nick, but he glanced at me to answer.

"Well, it's hard to say until it's done."

"You guys sure busted that out." She said between bites.

"We've had a lot of free time." My words were laced with sarcasm, which she caught.

The table grew quiet, which prompted Mileena to stand up, picking up her plate. Nick still had half of a sandwich left.

She pointed to my plate. "Done?"

I nodded, and she grabbed it from in front of me, turning back into the kitchen.

She reappeared less than a minute later, wiping her hands on her jean shorts. I raised an eyebrow, noticing the black edge of a tattoo outline just under the denim on her left thigh.

That was new.

"Well, I've got to get back." She looked at me. "See you tomorrow? 10AM okay?"

I nodded, giving her a thumbs up.

She looked at Nick. "See you next Saturday?"

He also nodded. "See you then."

Her smile was so sugary sweet, it made me want to lick it right the fuck off of her.

"What's happening Saturday?" I asked Nick after I heard the front door shut.

His eyes dropped to the table. "The party."

I raised an eyebrow. "Party?"

He shrugged. "Look, I'll be honest, we were debating on telling you."

Now my mouth was hung open, bewildered. "The fuck?"

"Just because you never come to stuff anymore, dude. And we didn't want you to feel obligated."

My mind slotted the pieces together. "Saturday is the 4th."

He nodded. "Yeah. We were going to have a 4th of July party. Food, drinks, fireworks. You know, the normal stuff."

"Where?"

"Here."

"Am I not invited?"

He shook his head. "No man, you absolutely are, if you want to come!"

I smiled, like a real asshole. "Maybe I fucking won't, since you weren't even going to tell me."

Nick rolled his eyes. "You're the fucking worst, you know that?"

You are insufferable, Noah Sebastian.

Ugh - fucking stop it. Not everything has to make me think of her.

"Nah, I'll come."

-

There was a knock at the front door at 10AM sharp. I opened it, my face brightening when my baby girl beamed at me from Mileena's hip.

"Hey! There's my girl!" I grabbed her, pulling her cheek to me for a dramatically long kiss. "I missed you!"

Angel slipped in past me. He was also coming back and forth, anywhere Addie was. She would get upset without him. That was a valid feeling, given I hated not having him home, myself.

I turned around, moving back into the house, and Leena followed, shutting the door behind her. She dropped the diaper bag on the coffee table as she always did.

"I packed lots of diapers, but she's ripping them off more and more. I almost wonder if it's time to start potty training." She was pulling items out of the bag, likely making sure she hadn't forgotten anything.

"You think so? This soon?" I was fixing Addison in her walker while also getting Bluey turned on.

"She's almost two, Noah. If she wants to try, why not?"

I nodded, looking down at the baby. "You want to go to Target later and pick up a training potty?"

She squealed in response, which I affirmed with a thumbs up.

"Well, that's settled."

Leena was making her way back toward the door, giving Angel's head a scratch on her way. "Also," She pointed to the dog. "Vet has him on allergy meds. He's been itchy. Once a day at dinnertime. Please make sure he eats beforehand, or they make him puke."

I nodded, taking mental notes. "Where are the pills?"

She slipped her hand into her pocket, handing me a blue prescription bottle.

"Okay, I think that's it." She stopped, bending down to give Addison a kiss and a tight squeeze, saying her regular goodbye. "See you Wednesday!"

I walked her to the front door, opening it for her. "Yep." She began walking away, but I spoke up before she got too far. "Oh! I'll also see you Saturday."

She stopped abruptly, her head turning around. "You will?"

"Yeah, Nick cracked and told me about the party. You're going, right?"

She didn't physically react when she spoke, her face expressionless. "Yes."

"Getting a babysitter?"

I could see her swallowing dryly, which had me curious.

"Yeah, uh," She shook her head, gathering her thoughts. "Laura's little sister. She's nineteen."

I smiled. "I know. I've met her. Andrea, right?"

She nodded, a bashful smile spreading. "Yes! Sorry, I forgot we brought her to a show, once."

"You okay?"

Her eyes bugged out. "Yes, why?"

I narrowed mine. "You're acting strange."

"Nope. Just..." She paused, but laughed at the end. "spaced out. I need a nap."

I was skeptical, but could hear Addison getting restless, so I decided to accept that answer.

"Okay. Drive safe."

She just waved me off before heading to her truck.

The following day, I was enjoying the rare quiet in my home while Addison napped. I used the time to pick up the living room, eat something for lunch, and listen to the songs we had demoed for the album, making notes in my phone about potential edits.

Nick was right, we were so close, and once Addison was in bed, I could head into the studio and make some tweaks to this track before sending it to Jolly for his opinions.

My song stopped, making me look down at my phone while I ran the dish in my hand under warm water. Mileena's name flashed on my screen. I had removed her photo a month ago, deciding it was healthier not to look at her face every time she tried to reach me.

I tapped my earbud to answer the call. "Hey."

"Hey! I'm sorry to bug you. Is this a bad time?" She still had that same jumpy tone in her voice.

"No, just doing dishes. Addie's napping. If you want, I can Facetime you when she wakes up. Should be anytime now."

"Oh, uh," She was hesitant, which made my hands stop. "I actually called to talk to you."

I flipped the faucet off and leaned my hands on the sink.

"Okay?" That was rare. Leena and I didn't just talk anymore. "What's up?"

I heard a hard sigh on the other end of the phone. "It's about Saturday."

I had dried my hands on a dish towel, heading for the back door to sit at the table on the porch, not wanting to risk waking Addison.

"What about it?"

"Well," She kept pausing, which was making this anxiety build inside me. "there's something you should know."

The lack of substance coming out of her was getting annoying.

"Yes?"

"I don't want you to get upset." My stomach was knotted like a noose. She's not actually about to say what I think she is...is she?

"Spit it out Leena."

"I'm bringing a date."

There's this documentary on the Discovery Channel. It's about snakes. Not just any snakes. Predatory snakes. It goes through a series of species of these serpents, and the unique ways they hunt and kill prey. This one, which I couldn't remember the name of, had an affinity for tracking it's prey for hours on end, understanding it, learning it, making it more efficient at capturing it.

Once it knew it's habits, it would corner it, constrict it, and, while it was still breathing, crush it's head until it's brain popped like a grape. It was honestly one of the most vile things I had ever witnessed.

And in that moment, that exact moment, Leena's words were the snake's jaws, and I was the mouse.

I guess I had been silent for a while, because I was pulled out of my thoughts by her voice calling me.

"Noah? Are you still there?"

"Did-" I had to clear my throat, the words not wanting to form. "Did you say a 'date'?"

"I did."

"You're...dating?"

My brain was empty. A wasteland.

"Noah, we don't have to get into that."

Oh, there's the snap I was waiting for.

"What?!" I stood out of my chair. "You brought this up! The fuck do you mean 'we don't have to get into that'?!"

I heard her huff out a breath. "Please don't yell at me."

"You're kidding, right?" I was still hollering, just not as loud. "You tell me you're fucking dating, and I'm supposed to stay calm?!"

"Well, it shouldn't be that surprising, should it?"

I had to be hallucinating. There's no way this was real life.

"It's been two months, Mileena! You haven't even moved all of your shit out yet! Way to let the fucking paint dry!"

"Oh, grow the fuck up, Noah!"

This stopped me, her voice sharp and stinging. I felt that familiar lump forming in my throat.

"We are both adults. We aren't going to be single, miserable over each other, forever, are we?!"

"I guess fucking not." My voice was even now. Emotionless. Dead.

"Look," She growled in frustration. "I just didn't want to blindside you. We haven't been seeing each other long. He just-"

I had to cut her off, for fear I may actually vomit if she continued. "Addie's up, I've got to go."

And I ended the call before storming inside, having to catch myself on the kitchen table before collapsing. This time, I let the tears fall naturally. I was so fucking tired of hurting.

-

“Yeah, I’m not going to the thing on Saturday.” I did my best to sound casual as I popped a french fry into my mouth. Laura was sipping her soda loudly, staring at me from across the restaurant table.

“C’mon dude, you said you’d go!” Nick was annoyed, having set his sandwich down on the plate.

“Yeah, well that was before I knew Mileena was bringing her boyfriend.” This nearly made Nick choke on the residual food in his mouth.

I took it Laura had not filled him in.

She rolled her eyes at me, setting her cup down. “Noah, he’s not her boyfriend.”

I deadpanned at her, my eyes low. “Sure.”

She picked her fork up to continue munching her salad. “They’ve only been on, like…” She thought for a second. “four dates?”

I was going to vomit. If the third date was the home run date…

“I really don’t need to know.”

“It’s not going to be the same without you there.” Nick was nearly whining at me, clearly over my flakiness.

I didn’t respond, only leaning back in my chair and staring at both of them.

“Noah, why don’t you just bring a date of your own?”

Laura’s words stunned me. Was she actually suggesting I, her best friend’s ex, bring a date to this party? How awkward did she want this to be?

I shook my head. “I’m good. Not interested in playing this game with her.”

Laura shrugged. “Well, it would still mean a lot if you came. The guys miss you. And you don’t have to hang out with Leena and Justin.”

I physically cringed at the name. “Justin?” Scoffing, I pulled my napkin off my lap. “She’s dating someone named Justin? The fuck does he do? Coach little league?”

She raised an amused eyebrow. “Thought you didn’t want to know?”

I crossed my arms. “I don’t.”

She stared at me, and Nick went back to his sandwich, clearly not wanting in on this conversation.

“Fine. Maybe I do.”

Laura smirked. “He’s a contractor. Some shingles blew off my roof in the storms recently, and I had to hire someone.” She was popping a cherry tomato in her mouth. “That’s how they met.”

“So…what does he look like?”

She gave me an incredulous look. “Like a guy?” This earned her a glare, and she sighed. “I don’t know Noah. White guy, like six-feet tall? Blonde hair. Green eyes. Taurus.”

Nick looked at her through the side of his gaze. “How much do you know about this guy?”

She rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to me. “He’s just a guy, Noah.”

“Yeah, a guy who’s sleeping with my soulmate.”

Laura stopped chewing, realizing the gravity of what we were discussing, and how much weight it held for me.

“I don’t think…” But she stopped herself, likely not wanting to put her foot in her mouth.

“It doesn’t even matter.” I ran a hand through my hair, staring out at the window of the diner. “Has he met Addison?”

She shook her head. “Not that I know of. When he came to fix the shingles, it was your day. All of their dates have happened when Addie was with you. And he hasn’t been back to the house.”

I nodded, at least satisfied with that.

“Angel didn’t seem too fond of him.”

I snorted. “That’s because he’s my dog.”

“He’s technically Leena’s.”

“That was before.”

“I’m sorry, I just need to cut in. But I’ve got to ask again, how much do you know about this guy?”

Nick’s comment made both Laura and I chuckle.

“Dude, they’re girls. They tell each other everything.” I picked up another fry. “You’ll get used to it.”

“Right. You’d be surprised at the amount of inappropriate information I know about Noah.”

This made him and I both stare at her.

“Like what?!” I was mortified. What did she know?

“Oh, just, you know, normal girl talk stuff.” She tried to play it off, but I wasn’t having it.

“No fucking way. She wouldn’t tell you that stuff.”

She looked up at me from under her lashes, smiling a wicked grin at me.

“Oh no?” She flashed her teeth at me. “Daddy?”

The cough that punched out of my chest was visceral. I had to drink half of my water just to get it to stop. Nick was dramatically gagging next to her.

Laura was cackling like a hyena.

-

The following day, I was sat in my living room, trying to focus on the television, but my mind was wandering. I couldn’t let this Justin thing go. There was so much to it that was just unknown.

What kind of dates did he take her on? Did she have fun? Did she plan to introduce him to Addie? Had they fucked?

Was she going to love him? As much as she loved me?

After wasting a solid episode of The Mandalorian thinking about this, I finally broke down, picking my phone up from the coffee table, and opening our text thread. We hadn’t spoken since Monday, and did hand-off with Addison with help from Laura, per my request.

I stared at the empty text box, trying to decide what I wanted to say.

Me: Hey.

Well. That should be okay, right?

I had to wait another half of an episode before I got a response.

Leena: What’s up?

I guess I should’ve expected that the niceties were over for now.

Me: I’ve been thinking about the other day.

She read the message, but no typing bubble.

Me: I’m sorry.

Leena: For?

Typical Mileena, not willing to let me get away with a blanket apology.

Me: Freaking out. Yelling at you.

I waited a painfully long time before she typed again.

Leena: Thank you.

She immediately started typing again.

Leena: I get it, though. I sort of expected it.

Me: Well, it was shocking.

Leena: I’ve been thinking too, and if it’s too difficult, I can just not bring him? I want to be considerate.

I wish I could’ve said I was shocked, but I wasn’t. That was Leena. Always going out of her way to make me happy, even if her happiness was sacrificed in the process.

But that ends now.

Me: Not a chance. I’m not going to let you do that.

Leena: What? Why?

Me: That’s not fair to you.

Leena: You having to go through that isn’t fair either.

Me: Maybe. But if we’re keeping score, I think you’ve been dealt more unfair situations than I have.

She didn’t respond immediately, which made me relax a little. I didn’t want to argue with her. I was tired, and just wanted to begin the process of moving past this.

Leena: That’s really big of you, Noah.

Me: What can I say? I’m growing.

Leena: LOL maybe you are.

Leena: You’re still going to come, right?

Me: Yeah, Nick will throw a fit if I don’t.

Leena: Good.

Me: Can I make a request?

Leena: Sure.

Me: Can we maybe not do the introduction thing with him, though? I’m growing and all, but I still want to knock his teeth out.

Leena: That’s fair.

-

Who the fuck plans a 4th of July party to be held outside?! Why is that the norm? Ninety-two degrees outside, and we’re just supposed to stand near smoldering barbecues and laugh about nonsense bullshit while simultaneously getting sunburnt?

Clearly, I was cranky. It took at least an hour to talk myself into going to this sad excuse of a party, and another hour to convince myself that I was not allowed to rip Justin’s head off, tossing it on the grill, and serving it to Mileena personally.

Sitting at the picnic table in the backyard, idly chatting with Jolly, I continuously scanned the crowd of people for her. She was late, which wasn’t like her at all. She hated being late, it agitated her.

“Alec said he got a call from Elizabeth. I guess Rachel hired a lawyer to help her with this whole thing. Talking about wrongful termination.” He sipped from his beer bottle.

“Yeah, I don’t see that holding up in court.” I took a pull from my Dr. Pepper can, lowering my sunglasses to get a better look around the people.

“Who knows. They mentioned they’d entertain an offer from Sumerian.”

I sneered. “We made her an offer.”

“They mean a cash offer.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, whatever. The lawyers can deal with that.”

Jolly kept speaking, but the world fell silent. There she was, stepping through the back door, raven hair curled loosely and hanging over her shoulders. She wore a plain white dress, cut up to the thighs, and cut low in the chest, straps thin as string. She had black flip-flops on and she wore more makeup than normal. False lashes clung to her lids, soft brown eyeshadow blended above them, and deep cherry red lipstick. That was new for Leena, typically staying natural or with a soft nude.

She was beautiful. Words didn’t even exist to describe how badly my heart squirmed for her, threatening to burst out of me.

But just behind her was what I had hoped would stay home - or get hit by a train on the way over. Whatever worked.

Justin was definitely taller than six-foot. Maybe not as tall as me, but he was fucking stacked. His black t-shirt was fitted to his torso, making it clear he was a gym rat. His jean shorts came down just below his knees, showing his right leg completely tattooed with some Japanese artwork.

His hair was combed back, and he wore dark Aviators over his eyes.

Guy was attractive. So, naturally, I wanted to rip his throat out.

They approached Nick and Laura, but I couldn’t hear what they said to each other. Leena hugged Laura, and Justin shook Nick’s hand. Nick smiled warmly at him, which I can’t logically fault him for, but a sting of unwarranted betrayal still pinched my back.

Leena’s eyes searched around inconspicuously, landing on me, and her lips turned up in a tiny smile. She waved at me gently, and I just gave her a grin in return that I didn’t exactly mean.

She gave me a look of concern, silently asking me if I was okay. I gave her a curt nod in return, which I know she was only forced to accept as good enough.

The party passed slowly as I tried to keep busy with making small talk with random people around the house. I did, however, end up around the fire pit once the sun began to go down, by myself. I sat there for a while, just staring into the flames, and throwing pieces of wood on whenever it got too low. The evening breeze brought the temperature down to a bearable level. My white tank top kept me cool enough that being close to the fire was comfortable.

I heard footsteps coming behind me, and I turned slightly to see Folio approaching, sitting on the bench next to me.

“What’s up, man?”

I shook my head slowly, stoking the flames with the metal poker.

“Not a whole lot.”

He grabbed another chunk of wood, tossing it on the dying fire.

“How you holding up?”

I pressed my lips together and breathed out an audible sigh. “Managing.”

Folio leaned in close to me, so only I could hear him. “I met the guy.”

I glanced over to him. “And?”

He shrugged. “He’s alright, I guess. Seems nice enough. Doesn’t strike me as her type though.”

I snickered. “Her type?”

He grinned, staring at the glow in the pit. “Yeah, you know; tall, dark, and messy.”

I laughed, shoving him in the shoulder, eliciting a giggle from him.

“Nah, she seems alright.” I let my eyes wander to Mileena for a second, seeing her standing at the table with Laura, laughing at something, Justin standing next to her.

She hadn’t approached me at all, which wasn’t surprising.

“When are we doing fireworks?”

Folio bit his lip. “Probably soon? It’s getting dark.”

I nodded. “I could go for blowing shit up.”

He pumped his fist in the air. “Fuck yeah, dude! Like real men!”

We both laughed, continuing an easy conversation. We sat there alone for at least fifteen additional minutes before bodies started gathering with us, seeking the warmth of the fire as the night grew colder.

“I say we start the fireworks in ten?” Nick looked at me, and I gave him a thumbs up. “I’ve got five boxes of mortars. It’s going to be fucking great.”

“Aren’t those illegal?” Leena’s voice piped up from across the pit. She was sat in a white plastic chair, Justin behind her with a hand on her shoulder.

Nick and I shot looks back and forth, smirking.

“Us? Participating in illegal activities? Pfft.” Nick waved a hand at her. “Not in a million years.”

She rolled her eyes, causing Nick and I to bust out laughing.

“Well, when you dumb boys get arrested, I’m not bailing you out.” She scoffed at us.

“A night in jail? Worth it.” I smiled at the fire, not daring to make eye contact with her.

“You know, Leena and I were at the beach the other day,” Everyone’s heads snapped up to Justin, who was speaking to the entire group. I took note of Leena’s hand now on his, their fingers interlocked. “and these teenagers were setting off fireworks.”

He chuckled, and Leena was grinning up at him, recalling some memory.

“Before the lifeguards busted them, one of them put a bottle rocket in one of the trash cans.” He shook his head. “The can fell sideways and the rocket damn near caught the kid in the chest!”

Everyone around was laughing, but I couldn’t find it in me. Sure, the story was funny…just not coming from him. No, to me, it made me cringe, my stomach turning. I couldn’t even register what he was saying, just that he was holding her hand, and she was smiling at him.

A loud, shrill laugh fell out of my mouth before I could stop myself. A switch in my brain that I had nailed down had broken loose, flipping on all of the rage and hysteria I had been locking away the entire day.

“That’s fucking hilarious, dude!” Everyone was staring at me, Mileena looking absolutely mortified.

I slapped both hands down on my knees, making a show of my sarcasm. “As fucking much as I want to hear more of that story, I think I’m going to have to pass!”

I stood then, glancing at Nick. “Let me know when you’re ready to start the fireworks. I’m going to go take a second.”

He didn’t respond, he just stared at me with the same horrified expression everyone else had.

Everyone but Justin, who looked as though he had just been challenged to a duel.

I quickly turned, and jogged into the house, not listening to the abrupt conversations happening behind me. I slipped through the back door, and stopped at the kitchen counter, gripping the edge and leaning my stomach against it, trying to calm my breathing. It wasn’t working.

I made my way to the bathroom, turning on the sink and splashing water on my face. I kept my eyes closed, not at all interested in what I would find in my reflection.

During my focus on trying to control my breathing, I had missed the sounds of footsteps coming into the house.

“Noah?”

I didn’t even have to open my eyes to know it was her. I didn’t respond, I only stood there, shame filling the crevices of my person.

“Are you okay?”

This almost felt like a panic attack. Like something I couldn’t just will away by thinking or wishing hard enough. My breathing was shallow and my muscles were rigid.

But she didn’t need to know that, so I nodded, eyes still closed.

I heard her step closer, and the door closing. She hadn’t left, and I knew that. I could smell her. I used it, the familiar scent that still made me feel home, to let my nerves go back into place.

A hand was placed on my shoulder, unexpectedly, causing me to flinch backward. I finally opened my eyes. Although her voice sounded so tender and concerned, she was absolutely fucking fuming.

Great.

“Please just go.” I tried to keep my voice calm, but it was borderline yelling.

“No.” She crossed her arms, and put all of her weight on one leg. “Not after that stunt.”

I sighed, leaning my back against the wall.

“I’m sorry, okay? I don’t have anything else to say.” I had no will left to fight.

She scoffed. “Are you kidding? That’s supposed to just fix it?”

She was pressing me, which wasn’t going to go over well in my current state.

“Leena, please.” I squeezed my eyes closed again.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Noah! If I’d have known you were going to act like this I would’ve just stayed home!”

Press.

“This is why I offered not to come! Because I knew you’d act like an ass!”

A little harder.

“And for once I thought you were going to be considering me, but I guess I was fucking wrong!”

Almost there.

“I should’ve fucking known you would do this.”

Boom.

“Shut the fuck up, Leena!” I screamed over her, making her mouth snap shut with a click of her teeth.

“I’m doing my God damn best here! I am sitting here, doing the best I fucking can to watch you sit there with another fucking guy, so if you could just shut up, I’d greatly appreciate it!”

I pushed off the wall behind me, waving my hands in the air.

“I have considered you, so don’t you dare tell me I haven’t! I gave you fucking space, I did everything you asked. And you,” I took a step toward her. “had the audacity to bring another man here, introduce him to my brothers, all for…what?!” My stare must have looked absolutely insane. “Just to fuck with me?! Get a reaction?! Or to prove that you’re moving on better than me?!”

I was in her face now.

“I don’t know what sick fucking game you’re playing here, Princess. But when I don’t act exactly the way you want - like a good fucking dog - you don’t get to come in here and scream at me!”

Less than half of a foot away from her now, I knew I was terrifying her. My teeth were ground together as I looked down at her, my chest heaving.

“Was this what you were fucking hoping for?” My voice was venomous, just shy of a whisper.

All I could hear was her shallow breathing.

“I…” But her words were lost. I continued to hold her with my eyes, having boxed her in against the bathroom door.

I raised an eyebrow at her. “What’s that?”

The softest, slightest whimper left her lips, and I couldn’t help the smirk that curled my lips, my eyes growing dark.

“What’s wrong? You had so much to say. Now you’re so quiet.”

She was staring up at me, her mouth parted.

Oh, I fucking had her.

“Was that the whole reason you brought him here? To get a rise out of me?” I bared my teeth. “To get me worked up?”

“No.” But she wasn’t convincing, her word coming out almost sounding like a question.

“No?” I dared to lean my body in closer, testing my luck. “I don’t believe you.”

Her eyes were stunned, as if I had caught her hand right in the cookie jar.

“You don’t?” She was trying so hard to sound stern, it was adorable.

“Nah. I think you enjoyed watching me squirm.” I inched my face closer to hers. “Every…” I pressed my nose gently against the skin on her neck. “fucking…” Deep inhale. “second.”

She let out a haggard breath, and I almost didn’t catch her legs pressing together.

My throat released a deep, raspy laugh. “Have you fucked him yet, Leena?”

I let one hand slide carefully down the wall, letting the tips of my fingers graze the side of her bare thigh.

“Have you let him touch you?”

She didn’t answer, but I felt her tremble beneath my hand. I pressed my palm to the front of her thigh. “Let him feel how fucking wet your pussy can get?”

My words were muffled against her neck, my lips now grazing the soft skin.

I dared to let a finger trail up to the crease of her leg, under her dress, where her panties covered her.

“Or does it only get that wet for me?”

And then, by the grace of whatever God exists, she moaned.

I let my hand graze over her, feeling how damp she already was.

“God, baby, I can’t even think about it. I get so fucking hard anytime I think of your body. Moving.” I hooked a finger inside her underwear. “Riding me.”

I pressed a kiss to her collarbone.

“More addictive than any liquor.”

Her hips pressed against me, pushing herself closer.

“Noah…”

I slid my hand down her folds, pulling her open slightly.

“You know the rules, baby girl. You want me to stop, just got to say so.”

Her hand snatched my wrist, stopping me, pulling me from my trance. I careened backward, looking at her face, panting.

I was ready to pull away, figured I had hit the boundary line. Until she spoke again.

“Fuck me,” Her eyebrow raised, a look of desperation on her face. “please.”

Without any shred of hesitation, I grabbed her shoulder, and spun her body around in front of me, pressing her against the sink. The hand I had in her panties now pressed against her back, and pushing her forward.

Her waist bent over the sink, I pulled the back of her dress up, revealing her black thongs pressed tightly between her cheeks, and used one finger to pull it to the side.

My hand snaked around the front of her, grabbing her throat and standing her back up. My free hand had already unbuckled my belt and pulled my jeans down, and I was pressing my erection against her.

“You fucking miss me, Princess?” I breathed into her ear.

She snarled at me. “Noah, quit talking and fuck me.”

I chuckled. “No problem.”

I pushed up inside of her, her tight walls clenching around me. In the reflection of the mirror, I could see her eyes rolling back in her head. She moaned again, louder than the last time, and I flicked the switch for the fan to kick on, hoping to muffle some of the sound.

I snapped my hips forward, over and over, still holding her tight to my chest. Her eyes had fallen closed, so I gripped her by her chin.

“Look.”

Her eyes snapped open, and she looked at me through the reflection of the mirror, her mouth open and eyes half-masked, looking entirely blissed out.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Mileena.” I pressed a hard kiss to her cheek, and she leaned into it. “I can’t stand the thought of anyone else having you.”

She reached her hand back to grip the back of my neck.

“Noah, ugh,” She fell forward, pressing her hips back into me. “God, I’m going to come.”

“Not yet, baby. Let me have this for a second.”

Her hands gripped the edge of the counter, her hair spilling into the bowl of the sink.

“I…I can’t. Please, I’m going to-“ But it was too late, she was tightening around me, pulling me over the edge faster, my cock pumping into her hard.

My hips stopped moving, and I let a hard slap fall on her right cheek. She gasped, standing up straight at the sensation.

I stepped back, quickly pulling up my jeans and leaning back against the wall.

She took a second to right herself, pulling her hair over her shoulder and adjusting her panties. Her eyes bore into mine, an unreadable look inside of them.

“This didn’t happen.”

Her words were cold, but I didn’t question them.

It didn’t happen.

Except that it did, and she couldn’t take that away from me.

[barbiegirldream]

where's my Song of Achilles anon at ! I read the book. liked some stuff didn't like other stuff. it was fanficition of a two thousand year old poem from a three thousand or more year old story. stuff gets silly. Odysseus was still my favorite he's always my guy. Anyway rest of my thoughts under the cut

I think I liked the perspective of Patroclus a really normal guy next to the warrior of the ages. One pov of a boy unsure of his place in the world surrounded by men older and claiming to be wiser and his godly boytoy.

this personally made me cackle. Patroclus is that oh my god get him some brown contacts please meme.

The myths were actually pretty good. I like how vague they were about Patroclus's mother there are like six different women in history claimed to be her it's really Patroclus's paternal ancestors that matter.

I think it's genuinely a major issue with the plot that Patroclus knew of the prophecy and still acted in accordance to Homeric Legend. I just think he should have found out right before but too late when they're in Troy already perhaps in an angry scorn from Thetis about he'll lose too.

Like you I also thought it was stupid as fuck how Patroclus was a totally useless twink. Didn't even know about legendary Myrmidons the fighting force named after his great grandfather mind you. The mythic ant stuff is literally his own family history.

Achilles being so nervous about the war only to fall into it so easily. Like a god finding their domain he was born for it. I really enjoyed the nitty gritty of war planning too. Him getting Achilles dressed the lips being the only part of him still soft. That was awesome why is that no quoted more. Achilles climbing onto Patroclus covered in blood like god that scene is going to be in my head on a loop. There is so much to it. Patroclus knowing him by scent and touch alone but what creature has come to wake him? Achilles so proud of what he's done seeing the revulsion in his lover who was so sure nothing Achilles could do would revolt him.

There could have for sure been so much more to a much more sensitive Patroclus being unable to love Achilles anymore and that's why Achilles stops fighting until Patroclus realizes he can't hold back his demigod lover from greatness. Taking the book in a radical direction but alas.

Brisies was very well done I appreciated her character a lot. I think it was a very good choice to expand on her mythos and remove a lot of the violence. People often read myths and go oh so he raped her when that's either not stated in the text/not needed to include other than their fetishes driving them.

ALSO so fucking annoying Patroclus doesn't die because he's no good at fighting he dies because Hector is Better. Hector is the sole reason the Acheans struggled. He was the Trojan Achilles idk how that point got turned into well Patroclus could barely hold a spear tee hee. Spending the whole book being like Patroclus can't fight ooh one of Achilles's generals is useless. To then be like jk as in accordance with the Iliad he's really good and killed a bunch of people is actually bad writing sorry. I did giggle at Apollo just fucking with him knocking him off the wall all pretty like just twirling his perfect hair.

Turning Troilus the son of Apollo who Achilles chased down tried to rape and then beheaded in the temple of Apollo leaving his mutilated body for his father to die and therefore the reason Apollo kills him into a random death cause the boy was an idiot. Like Troilus literally the Greek representation of losing a young son to unjust murder. Well okay then...

Thetis raising Achilles's son here is so perfect because that boy is rancid. He saw Agememnon and said I could do worse watch I'll go kill Hector's baby just for fun. And they really delivered on what a piece of fucking shit he was.

Thetis giving in, in the end was really good. Liked it

Overall I think the book was really good. I approached it from the knowledge this is taking thousands of years of myths and giving it to the perspective of a side character and I think it delivered.

[thesinglesjukebox]

PEGGY GOU - "(IT GOES LIKE) NANANA"

It's summer somewhere, and it's also 9PM somewhere.

[7.05]

Kat Stevens: Peggy's continued shameless tactic to lure me in with random snippets from Ibiza Anthems vol 1-4 mixed by Alex P & Brandon Block is absolutely working. [8]

Oliver Maier: Absolute head-empty stuff. Pretty 90s inasmuch as it sounds like "I Like To Move It" for a corporate boat afterparty. In, like, Dubai. [6]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: The kind of big dumb pop hit that feels all the sweeter after a half-decade of sophisticated, fashionable house music from Peggy Gou. Somehow, I feel like this is her true form -- a hook-focused trickster spirit hitting all the dopamine release points as quickly as possible. Everything else -- all the long-form odyssey-like qualities of her earlier work, all the couture and style and glamor -- fades away. In pop music -- and "Nanana" is excellent pop music -- all that is secondary to the sheer sugar-rush joy on display here. [9]

Crystal Leww: Peggy Gou has made something like five songs in like five years, and yet somehow her status in dance music is now enormous -- she regularly sells out massive crowds in at least three continents despite incredible price tags (her last NYC show was on a Wednesday and tickets were one hundred and forty eight American dollars each). Yet, if you've ever seen a video of Peggy Gou DJing, it's all cameras up, with no one seemingly doing any actual dancing except maybe Peggy herself. Her whole schtick is like the culmination of the blurring of lines between DJ and influencer -- it's seemingly just as important to be seen at a Peggy Gou show as it is to actually enjoy a Peggy Gou show. All this being said, all five or so of Peggy's songs sound so incredibly warm and timeless despite the fact that they are perfectly engineered to trend chase after all. "(It Goes Like) Nanana" hops on the trance and eurodance revival that's been percolating the last two years, with an unmissable ATB sample and yet unlike what it's ripping -- corny, goofy, silly -- it's engineered to be so cool, conjuring images of exclusive parties on yachts and perfect bob haircuts that cost $1,000 a pop. "It Goes Like (Nanana)" works because it gives anyone a chance to feel like they could be a part of that exclusivity - it's a song meant to played in rooms with wood paneling and on expensive soundsystems while twirling around in circles with your best friends. [7]

Nortey Dowuona: She used to be good, what the freak happened? Are we all so desperate to run back to 1985 just cause Studio Ghibli was founded that year? They're not shuttered yet! [5]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: Peggy Gou never changes, nor does she need to. [7]

Ian Mathers: She just doesn't miss! What's that? Lenny Kravitz? No idea what you're talking about. [8]

Scott Mildenhall: Finally, a song worthy of a one-hour YouTube loop. Peggy Gou's work doesn't feel formulaic so much as geometric -- "Nanana" has the colour and kinetics of a game of Breakout, pinballing predictably, but forever satisfyingly. [8]

Katherine St Asaph: Bliss is the absence of thought. [7]

Alfred Soto: In Peggy Gou's eternal 1998 and 1987, plinkety-plonkety pop house is the lingua franca. I'll admit to confusing "(It Goes Like) Nanana" and Kylie Minogue's "Padam Padam." Who wouldn't? [6]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: nah nah nah [4]

Claire Biddles: The Peggy Gou: The Complete Singles compilation that comes out in 2034 is going to be the greatest dance pop album of all time. [8]

Edward Okulicz: I didn't have "Peggy Gou gets an actual hit single" on my 2023 bingo card, but if you'd told me that it was going to happen last year with a song that steals as much from K-Klass as it does from ATB, I wouldn't have batted an eyelid. The whole song's as slick as the little "9PM" guitar line and if it's too soft to be a real floor filler, that seems like a decision rather than a flaw. [8]

Aaron Bergstrom: Answering the question, "How do you get from 'I Go' to 'featuring Lenny Kravitz" in one step?" [6]

David Moore: I love the small touches in this, especially the chintzy pitch-bend synth guitar, even though this song's massive success after "I Go" kind of feels like when a major director finally gets an Oscar for a merely competent movie after getting snubbed for their masterpiece. I'll take it, though. [7]

Peter Ryan: In the right light a bit of a supercut of Annie's Endless Vacation tracks. I can't complain; Gou's track swells in sync with the lyric's devolution into a heady non-verbal state. She gets it -- don't think, just move. [9]

Brad Shoup: Now this is a Eurodance text: verb choices just a couple degrees away from expected, similar clauses chained together, a big arrow pointing at the universal hook. If ATB could clone his hit i don't see why Gou can't. I dunno if this is a one-off trance dalliance but if not: try "The Lonely One" next. [7]

Taylor Alatorre: A dance song which performs its intended function ably and effectively, and which is committed to becoming a throwback club hit even as it is afraid to commit to representing anything beyond that. Those little bent synth phrases after the chorus sound cool. [6]

Will Adams: A panoply of musical choices designed to hit every pleasure point in my brain -- mindless, wordless hook; house piano chords; organ bass; synthetic guitar straight from an ATB classic -- that its slightness doesn't really matter. [7]

Vikram Joseph: This deserves to be heard under a high sun by a glittering sea so much that, listening to it for the first time right now, I almost want to hold myself back from it so that I can save it for the summer of '24. But to do so would be futile, because there's nothing delayed about the gratification that "(It Goes Like) Nanana" provides. It's so deeply kinetic, decorated with lashings of house piano, sweet pulses of synth and a fleeting quarter-century echo of the motif from "9 PM (Till I Come)"; it might have a big, dumb club-goading chorus but it's also smart enough to under-stay its welcome. Best just to give yourself entirely to it -- I mean, it's summer somewhere. [8]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

[msfantasy-anime]

The Very Real Wedding

Monkey D. Luffy x Reader

Summary: a short story prequel to my wife. This is the story of when Sabo and Ace arranged a wedding ceremony for their younger brother.

Part II

The sky is dark, and the straw hats ships is lively and rambunctious as ever. You sit amongst the crew on deck as you enjoy each others company, and singing songs like the drunkards you were. The mood begins to settle down, as your full bellies urge you all into a food coma, prompting the crew to request you for a story.

“Common Y/n, dont give us the cliff notes of your ‘wedding’ we want to hear the whole story!” Usopp begs making Chopper nod in agreement.

Looking over at your beloved best friend, he just chuckles and waits for you to speak further.

“Okay, if you insist…”

12 years ago in the East Blue

“You’re not seriously going to Dadan’s place again, are you?” Ace taunts the small Luffy, who remains crouched in the bushes, pulling any plant that looks like a flower.

“Of course I am, I promised Y/n I’d bring her flowers everyday.” Young Luffy exclaims, as he ties the specially curated bouquet with a broken vine he found laying on the floor.

“Don’t give Y/n that!” Sabo exclaims, wacking the bouquet from Luffy’s hands. “That vine is poisonous!”

“Ouch, ouch, ouch! It hurts!” Luffy begins to sob, waving his stinging hands around, a reddish rash colouring across his palms.

“You idiot!” Ace scolds. “Let us do it.” Ace grumbles as the two brothers begin to pick out plants for a new bouquet of flowers. “What will it take for you to stop picking these stupid flowers everyday and focus on your pirate training?”

“For her to marry me.” Luffy answers, as he continues to blow air on his itchy hands.

“Fine then, Sabo and I will arrange for your wedding ceremony and then you can finally stop doing this stupid crap everyday.”

“Are you guys serious?!” Luffy exclaims excitedly, his giggles making Ace shudder with creeping awkwardness at his love sick brother.

“Uh huh, sure.” Sabo sighs dismissively, tying off the new bow.

Climbing up the final step, you land on the treehouse entry in your cleanest formal dress as requested by the three boys.

There you saw Ace waiting at the front, his foot tapping impatiently along the wooden plank.

“Hurry up already, we’ve been waiting ages.” Ace hurries you along. Looping his arm through your own and pulling you through the entry.

“This is stupid-Luffy isn’t going to stop visiting me daily just because of a fake wedding ceremony.” You scold the older boy.

“The idiot doesn’t know the difference, just do it would ya?” Of course the question is redundant as Ace shoves you through the entry door and straight into the hideout.

“Dun-dun-dunddun-dun-dun-da-da.” Sabo hums to ‘Here Comes the Bride’ flicking his fingers in the air as if conducting an invisible, silent, orchestra. You could just about laugh at the scene before you.

The boys clearly took the silly celebration seriously.

There’s random bunches of flowers, a make shift wedding arch with a clean dressed Luffy.

You figured, you might as well take the ceremony as seriously as the boys took it.

“Wait, what about the flower girl?” You ask teasingly, to which Ace stomped to the nearest rose. Ripping off the head and throwing the petals to the floor.

“There.” He says bluntly, looping his arm back around yours and tugging you along the ‘aisle’, as you take dramatic steps for your performance.

Arriving at the alter, you’re met with an excited Luffy, who is so filled with energy, he’s practically bouncing in place, which you couldn’t help but giggle at. “Lady and Gentlemen, we are gathered here today to join Y/n and Luffy as husband and wife. If anyone objects, speak now, or forever hold your peas.”

“It’s peace.” You object.

“Why would it be peace? You can’t hold peace, but you can hold peas, so it must be peas.” Sabo justifies as Luffy hums in agreement.

“Oh, that makes sense.” Luffy says as you roll your eyes.

“Luffy do you take Y/n as your-“

“Yep!” Luffy yelps excitedly, his eagerness makes him jitter faster in his place.

“Y/n do you take Luffy as your lawfully wedded husband, to love in sickness and in health until death do you part?”

“I vow to love Luffy even after death.” You say this to tease Luffy, but any of your cold taunting flies right over his head.

“… then I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss the bride.”

As you turn to peak Luffy on his cheek, he smacks a big ole’smooch to your lips. His cheeky smile flashing towards your shocked face.

Without a second to spare, Ace begins to pellet you both with dried rice, with as much force as he could muster.

To which you break out into a squeal running for cover in a fit of laughter.

“Ace you jerk!” Luffy yells in anger. Running towards his brother and tackling him to the ground.

The two roll on the floor, tussling and grabbing at each-other.

Sabo jumps on top of Luffy and Aces trying to break the two up.

Present Day

“Stop it! I can’t handle the crippling loneliness anymore!” Frankly cries again, Robin turns to comfort Franky again as he continues to blow his nose into the hanky.

“What an exquisite story teller you are! I felt like I was there. We need a story teller in the crew don’t we Luffy. Y/n can keep a record of our adventures.” Brook lays his compliments on thick, egging Luffy on as he begins to belly laugh.

You smiled awkwardly at the over the top praise.

“Whattya say Y/n? Wanna join my crew?” Luffy asks, his huge infectious smile crossing his face.

If you have the means to, tips are always appreciated.

[koishua]

𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐨 !

ENHYPEN REACTING TO YOU JAMMING TO THEIR TAYO SONGS!

taglist: @junityy @igyus @intokook @leavethemonsteralive @iuwon @envirae @fairyjunn @rutosruru-world @daystiny @luvholicz @imdamconfused @renjunvrse @honeyseungz @dweio @rae-blogging @ikigyus @enhyseob @jitaros @jdyunvrs @yunntext @yourlocalhotgf @strwberrydinosaur @mark-lees-world @beomgyuv @chileangring4 @99swinwin @jakeycore @99outros @heejojo @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @strqyverse @tyongishs @jiminisyourangel @yutaalove @yangianwon @icywhatim @sunshine-skz @hwallswrld @twntycm @sooblvr @injanggarden @whoe-dis @thegracerammy (click here to be added)

[⌗] 𝗵𝗲𝗲𝘀𝗲𝘂𝗻𝗴.

screams. is scandalised. the sheer betrayal he feels

poor boy just wanted some good ol’ affection from you when he came to your doorsteps

gulps in fear when he hears a vaguely familiar tune coming from some room in your house, but then pushes the fear back in his head  

my man SERVES

vocals and dance and rap and all that jazz. he is there to be a fabulous showman. 

is going down for the next two or three business days afterwards. mentally too drained im sorry he can’t function

rest of the members are under the cut !

[⌗] 𝗷𝗮𝘆.

why do i feel like he will just 1) gulp, 2) sigh, 3) and join right in to your popping moves for billy poco lmao

as much as he feels tired of the song, he does enjoy the sick beat pffft-

will probably turn it into a show and do the entire pizzaz and all haha

add a few jazzy partner dance section to the “oh oh oh oh oh” part and we’re so done gahh even i’m tired thinking about this

[⌗] 𝗷𝗮𝗸𝗲.

you best believe he is absolutely over the amount of times he has already spent mouthing ta- tayo ta- tayo by now besties.

he will breakdown and cry

okay not necessarily cry

but when he steps into your room with hopes of relaxing from the hectic day, only to see you busting moves to the god awfully happy song, he will nope right tf out of that place bahaha ;-;

mans just not okay wbk

he is traumatised. help this boy pls.

[⌗] 𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗻.

he doesn’t know if he should laugh or cry bc you’re cute, but you’re also yelling out the full lyrics to his first tayo song

decides to just stay there for a few seconds, smiling to himself because you’re so gosh darn into it and he would feel bad for disturbing your fun

but he is out after thirty seconds max. 

he has had enough of it.

god knows how many times he has been forced to go through the pain.

[⌗] 𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗼𝗼.

sunshine boy 1000% joins in on the fun and makes the whole experience just immaculate and divine.

will bust out a random disco light and hang it up somewhere in the room out of nowhere and find his bluetooth speakers to have it on loop

neighbors will think you are possessed

but you’re just aggressively double headbanging to billy billy poc-

it somehow turns into a workout idk how tho bahahaha

[⌗] 𝗷𝘂𝗻𝗴𝘄𝗼𝗻.

somehow doesn’t even hear anything and walks inside with his headphones

isn’t going to do anything about his s/o absolutely losing it while doing the air guitar and aggressive arm pops 

he just plops somewhere randomly and scrolls on his phone.... randomly pulls out his headphones to tell you about something he found, but then hears the ‘gaegujaengi kkoma bus <3’ and slowly

very slowly, subtly, puts his music back on and dissolves

[⌗] 𝗻𝗶-𝗸𝗶.

listen.

he thinks it’s cute and all but. oml. if he had to listen to a single more second of that song or dive off your second floor back outside, he would do it in a heartbeat

BUT

but!!! when he sees you dancing,,,

his inner child and competitive side gets to him

and now it’s just a bunch of kids trying to outdance each other 

im sorry, you’ll be dead tired after having billy poco on loops for forty eight minutes rip to your ears, brains, and muscles.

[vocaimagines]

F.I.L.A (FALL IN LOVE AGAIN)

Luka Megurine x G!N Reader word count: 2.3k

Every time, without skipping a beat, you would always end up running into this pink-haired girl. Childhood, at the age of six years old. She was the one who pushed you off the slide, causing you to scrap your knee. Letting out the loudest and most embarrassing cry you could ever recall back to. Middle school, you met again, a hint of anger still lingering as she paid you no mind at all. After all, who would remember something as trivial as this? Well, other than you of course. So with you and your group of friends, you did your best to avoid her for as long as you could. Praying and hoping that one day she would move away so she wouldn’t remind you of your constant embarrassment.

Luck wasn’t always on your side, however. By the time high school started- you realized that in most of your classes you were with her. Either sitting right in front of you, or even worse- sitting right next to you. You cursed the God that you prayed to, wishing that whatever sick joke that she was playing on you would stop. For the most part, she was completely chill. Paying you no mind as she mindlessly scribbled sorry excuses of notes down. As the months progressed and you accepted the new girl as your classroom neighbor, your small hate of her slowly dissolved into a neutral feeling. You even finally decided to learn the name of the girl you “hated” once and for all.

Luka Megurine. It was a pretty name for a girl you considered cute.

Wait.

What.

You scratched that thought from your head. No time for generic school crushes, after all.

By the time your second year of high school started, your classes with her drastically decreased. You only had three classes with Luka Megurine. It was fine for the most part, still a bit strange that you would turn around to work with someone- only for them to not be the pink-haired girl like usual. You did well enough in your classes, had the same group of friends, ate the same school lunches as you always did. A normal, monotonous life that you didn’t mind at all.

Well, that all changed when you had the smart idea of walking to your chorus class to talk to your teacher during lunch. You hadn’t even heard her coming behind you, the song was so loud in your ear as you fell face first into the floor. You groaned against the floor as you slowly raised your body from off the ground. You went to take a headphone out from your ear, only to realize that it had fallen out. You turned to the person who bumped into you.

“Shit, have you seen my-”

Why was Luka Megurine using your headphone?

“You listen to this song too? It’s from my favorite group!” Luka exclaimed as she looped her arm with yours. “Fall in Love Again'' is their best song. We’re best friends now.”

“Hey, you can’t just-”

“Momoi Airi is one of the best in the group to me. She has pink hair just like me! Could you believe that she’s only two years older than us too? I really wanna be like her when I get older too- I’ve been practicing guitar and singing in my free time-” Luka said, her rambling continuing on as you listened. You couldn’t deny it felt nice to know someone else who always was a fan of “More! More Jump!” You could wait to see your chorus teacher for now-

By the time the bell rang, you both had managed to end up in the class hallway sitting in front of her locker. Luka was showing you all of the photo cards and videos of the concerts she had gone to. Telling you story after story of all the times she was so close to meeting Momoi. You wouldn’t deny that she was rather weird. Bumping into a random classmate before dragging them around the school to gush about a girl group. However, you also couldn’t lie that it was all rather charming. By the second bell, she followed you to your locker as she continued on and on about the group. You listened intently, replying with your own comments here and there as you headed to your own class.  

“Ah, wait, wait! I never learned who your bias was in the group!”

“Hinomori Shizuku. I like her the most.” You replied with a smile.

“Oh, that makes a lot of sense! See you in class, tomorrow.”

The rest of the school day went in a flash. You barely could remember what your teachers bothered to teach you and all you could think about was Luka Megurine. She was cute, she had a fun personality, and really knew what she was talking about. You went home watching more dance clips of Momoi then you did before- after all, Luka had mentioned that she was one of the best dancers in the group which you just had to argue that Hanasato was a much stronger dancer.  It was an interesting back and forth that you two had, neither of you had made points, just reciting comments that you had read and taken as fact.

“Sweetie, were you able to talk to your teacher about dropping out of that group?”

Well, that was an issue for you to deal with tomorrow, before you spent another lunch talking to Luka that is.

By the third year of high school, you could officially say that you and Luka were “besties” ; the two of you were nearly inseparable. She naturally blended in with the rest of your friends as she was always there. Liting up the room with her smile and always giving you the latest news of Momoi, and sometimes Hinomori if you were lucky. It became a trend that halfway through the lunch period, she would pull you away from your friends to walk around the school together and talk alone. As if Luka wanted to honor that “special day” as much as she could. Of course, it wasn’t complete if you two didn’t listen to the same song as well. Despite listening to it everyday for 30 minutes each time. It never got old, and you enjoyed every second of it.

“I still can’t believe I made the group. Mrs.Yowane was so excited when I went to audition and she accepted me on the spot! I still can’t believe you left to begin with, this is the best thing that could happen to me.”

“Well, if I hadn’t left, I don’t think she would have another free spot. So, maybe it was just fate that it didn't work out.”

“I just hope fate lets us be together forever. I really like you, will you-” Luka stopped for a second as her face grew red. She grabbed onto your hands as she bowed. “Will you go out with me?”

You didn’t even stop for a second to think, before shouting out a “yes!”

The last year of high school was filled with the sweetest of memories. The days that were surrounded with childish glee, the more you two learned of each other. The more attached you got. Luka was growing so fast as an artist. Her guitar skills were amazing and her vocals were perfect. You even got to reconnect with your old group members: Meiko, Gumi, Lily, Flower! They were all here and you got to even watch their practice stages before anyone else. Luka and you were so happy.

So why.

Why did she just leave you without saying goodbye?

Halfway through the school year, she was just gone. No call or text-backs, no one in your friend group ever found out where she went, and her locker was now just empty. You were so scared that something had happened to her, that you even went to her house, hoping that someone would answer. You were so glad to see that her mom was there, but Luka was gone. She had moved halfway across the country with her father to pursue her dreams.

“Had she not told you dear?”

No, no she hadn’t. You choked on the tears that fell down as you cried into the older woman. You tried to hold back the pain that you were holding onto. To pretend that you were just happy that she was able to do this! She was going to accomplish everything she wanted to do. The cry was the loudest you ever sobbed. When you went home, you couldn’t eat for days as you cried yourself to sleep.

That was five years ago. For the most part you were doing much better now! You managed to get a pretty decent job working in journaling and your roommate, Yuezheng Longya, was a generously well-off man who didn’t mind paying for most of the rent. As long as you made sure not to make the apartment a complete pigsty like his previous roommate. You couldn’t deny that you were slowly harboring feelings for him. He was handsome, straight forward, quiet. The opposite of the person who had broken your heart years ago. You could tell him eventually how you felt when you were more certain of your emotions, for now, you were content with having a close friend.

Of course, all things from your past always come back to haunt you. As you scrolled through your phone, a certain face came back. The same long pink hair and blue eyes that were once full of life, looked dull and empty in the photo. She would be returning back to this old city for a concert before going on hiatus.

“Oh, so she can tell others where she’ll be going, but she couldn’t even bother telling me?” You said out loud. Anger lingered in your voice as you shut your phone off. The pain nearly threatened to return as you got up off the couch and headed to your room. You slammed the door as you tried to sleep it off.

You heard a knock on your door.

“Hn, you alright in there?”

“I’m just pissed off, Longya. I just need to sleep it off.”

“I’ll make you dinner, rest up now.”

“Thank you.”

You finally passed out that afternoon, waking up at 8pm. Panic almost overtook you before you realized that it was still the same day and that you didn’t miss work. On top of that, it was your day off. You checked your phone, noticing that you had three missed calls. One of them being from your own mother. Before you called her back, you saw that you had a text that simply read: ‘come over, it’s important.’ without any more questions. You got dressed and dashed out of your room.

“Oi, dinner will be ready soon. Don’t stay out too late.”

“I shouldn’t be long.” You said as you grabbed the door and slammed the door on your way out.

“I really need them to stop slamming my door.”

You didn’t live too far from your mother’s house, it was a 30 minute walk from yours to hers. 25 minutes if you speed walk, and currently, 20 minutes if you straight up run. You were exhausted and had to catch your breath when you finally arrived. You looked up slowly, shock filled your body as you noticed a familiar figure who sat on your old stairs.

“Why the hell are you here?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why the hell are you here?” You said again, not letting up your feelings.

“I really messed up big time, and I’m so sorry. I just want to go back to what things used to be.”

“Do you really think that you can just walk back into my life? Think a “sorry” is just going to cut it? You walked away from everyone, all of your friends. Without even bothering to say goodbye.” You tried to steady your breathing as you continued. “Even when you were gone, you couldn’t even bother to contact any of us and you just think coming back with that is enough?”

“I- I was wrong, I was so scared to tell anyone. I couldn’t even have the courage to contact you guys to tell you what happened. I was a coward during all of this.”

“Coward is an understatement.”

“Mo-Momoi, I talked to her,”

Wow, congratulations. She accomplished all her dreams after abandoning everyone.

“She told me how wrong I was and that if I wanted to keep being an idol I had to set things straight. B-but, I realized that I didn’t want to be an idol if it meant that I could never meet you again. I just wish I did things differently, I’m so sorry. I wish I wasn’t selfish towards you and treated you better.”

You didn’t say anything else. You sat next to her and leaned your head against her shoulder. You pulled out your earphones, placing one in your ear, one in her own. She was confused but relaxed as an old song played.

“I don’t think we can ever go back to the way things used to be, but.” You started. Her apology was genuine, but you didn’t trust her yet. Not after what she did. “I really want you to prove that you really mean it.”

She looped her arm around yours, just like she did before.

“I promise.”

You both stayed quiet, letting the song play.

Tonight the stars out, lights flash. Thinking I was gonna dance, but rewind, playback. Now you got me in a trance.

Sometimes you wish you weren’t so hopeful and naive when it came to Luka. Your heart pounded a familiar beat as you placed your hand on hers.

Tonight we, tonight we Fall In Love Again.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

An Angel and A Demon ~ Pyramid Head x Reader

Update 2: My laptop restarted when I was in the middle of writing this, and trust me when I say it, I am positively pissed off, and I want to end my days, that's how bad of a day this was.

And I didn't leave the house.

That says a lot about today...

Update 1: But, without further ado, I was half-way writing this story, and I received this ask, and let me tell you...

helloooo, i absolutely adored the fanfics you wrote about kazan and danny🥺 could i request one where pyramid head is just really whipped for and in love with the survivor! reader but he doesnt know how to announce it to them so he brings her random ,,gifts" in and outside the trials and protecting her bc well, im pretty sure he cant speak so he doesnt really have any other options on how to express his feelings??

I live for it.

Bless you for sending me this, it's the reason I'm still sane right now.

I love you, baby-cakes.

Update 3: I want to kill myself so bad. Just smash my head on a wall until it explodes or sth. I was so happy with how this imagine turned out, only fuck fucking tumblr to just fucking delete EVERYTHING just as I was about to put the last gif and hit POST NOW.

--------

For the 5th time writing this :

FUCKMEDADDY - but this time - FUCKMYBRAINSOUTPLEASEIWANNADIE

Thanks.

-------

Hell - What was that place, anyway?

Some would describe it as an infinite ocean of flames and lava, where it's eternally melting-hot, and a bunch of hooved, horned, tailed red demons torture you with acid, with their red pitch forks, or boil you alive in their cauldron for soup. Or maybe you just get tortured by Stalin, who knows?

But never would have anyone thought that 'Hell' could look so...Normal. Well, normal in a very demolished, desolate, ravished way, but still...Normal, by human standards. Albeit, the never-ending loop of madness, anguish, agony and desperation of getting killed in different gruesome ways or fleeing for their lives and feeling a myriad of emotions pumping adrenaline through their veins so badly that their anxiety-meter skyrocketed to abnormal levels.

All this darkness, this hatred, this...Everything...It changed all the survivors. They became selfish, stubborn, rude, some even went as far as to sacrifice their fellow survivors in trials, just so they could survive. It was a complete mayhem that defied all kinds of reason, normality, morality or even ethics. Everyone became devoid of any laws that used to bind them to their humane sides, and now, you weren't sure if the killers were saner than the survivors or not.

But even in this abyss where you couldn't even see your hand in front of your very eyes, there was a little star - A beautiful angel radiating brightness and warmth, someone who was somehow able to guide everyone's straying souls with her benevolence.

In reality, she was merely a survivor, not the little lantern from an angler fish's head, but she treated everyone with such an untainted kindness...It was beautiful, and yet, unrequited for most parts. Everyone was still putting their own lives above all - And who could condemn them? - Perhaps their cowardice, for the girl preferred to save her fellow survivors as much as possible, even if that oftentimes assured her place on the hook, to be a sacrificial lamb for the Entity.

On the other hand, she rarely ended up on the hook - Most killers prefer to kill her themselves, instead of letting her become pray for the horrible Entity who tortured so many of them for refusing to cooperate - The Trapper, Evan MacMillan - He knew the best, with those hooks digging into his flesh, impossible to extract. He was the first to protect this girl. It wasn't much, but if he had to, he'd rather give her a swift, painless death, than seeing her without that serene, angelic smile on her face, as the Entity feeds on the last bits of her soul's beauty, the last parts of her humanity.

The other Killers were confused at the Trapper's actions, but little by little, they began to understand why this girl was so precious and special - And this domino effect hit Rin Yamaoka next, with Y/N stopping in the middle of a chase and taking off her jacket, just as Rin was about to butcher her with her katana, and she smiled, extending it to her. 'You must be cold' she said, realising that the Spirit was merely wearing a few bandages, not even her school uniform, or her kimono.

The ghost girl was shaken up by this, and told the others at the killer camp, but they just shrugged it off - Rin was a little girl who faced close to no kindness, they weren't surprised she was so taken aback by such a feat. That is, until Adiris, in a particularly terrible day, when everyone at the camp was staying away from her, as her profane censer wasn't able to cover the stench of rotting flesh - Y/N came over, taking out a small yet elegant glass bottle with pink liquid on it, spraying some on her - And now, The Plague smelled of roses and vanilla - 'You can come to me for perfume whenever you want, I always carry some with me!' she grinned at the Babylonian High Priestess, before leaving back to the survivor's camp site, leaving the ancient God symbol to stare with her mouth agape at the girl.

These words began to spread, and it was no surprise when the killers saw Susie clinging and begging her Legion friends to spare Y/N, for she was there to hug away her worries more than once, to tell her sweet words, to play with her hair and play the guitar whatever songs she wanted to hear, to get reminded of her home - She was so home sick that she freaked out, but now she was better, thanks to Y/N - 'I know you miss home, but sometimes, home is where your best friends are, and all three of them are here!' she tried to encourage the cute pink-haired girl who could only squeal and hug her new friend.

Even Ghostface wasn't exempt from falling to her charms, and they would often take silly selfies and mess around, making fun of the old horror movie tropes and doing lots of puns and pranks - So much that she even got his trust to be told about the Danny/Jed thing, and how he began his killer profession - 'You're a very talented photographer, Danny! You deserved all that recognition you got, both as a journalist, and as a killer!'

And very soon, Y/N found herself in the crushing arms of an overprotective Anna, humming her mother's lullaby together with walking through the forest, Y/N making flower crows for all the female killers at the camp site, and little by little, she somehow managed to worm her way under everyone's skins.

Y/N was the survivor with the highest survivability percentage, and maybe the Entity sometimes got pissed off, but at least she still got killed sometimes, so who cares? Well, that was soon to change as soon as a new Killer was added to this sick game - Pyramid Head, the terror of Silent Hill, as Cheryl, the new Survivor, called him - or The Executioner, as he was known now. He was ruthless, merciless, grotesque - He had his own criteria of killing, his own moral compass, ethics, conscience and understanding of the concept of life and death. Nothing that could compare to the visions of humans, clearly - Everything was gravitating around Divine Retribution and Justice, but the from the outside, he was nothing but a killing machine.

He would kill everyone and anyone that crosses his path, without fail.

Y/N felt like her fortune ended completely the second she found herself in the new, overly cramped map, with Pyramid Head as the killer - She couldn't help but run around like a spazzic meerkat, trying to find and fix as many generators as possible, without having to get face to face with the walking hazard...

Only to run past a stuck Pyramid Head.

Slowly backtracing her steps, she saw the mountain of a man with his metal pyramid stuck in the frames a low window which he tried to walk over. He was trashing like a raged bull trying to attack a matador, but it was clear he was getting nowhere with this.

"H-Hey, u-uhm...Need some help?" she asked in a soft, careful voice, almost like a meek cat trying to test the waters, but in return, he started groaning even louder from the wrath he wanted to unleash upon the whole world. "Okay, uhm...I think I saw a can of vaseline in one of the chests around. I'll go fetch it and I'll come back for you. Don't move." she said, only to then realise how horrible that sounded, considering the situation, and it only seemed to anger the killer. "...I'm sorry, ignore me, I'm an idiot." she slapped herself pretty harshly before bolting out of there trying to find the chest.

However, Y/N cursed herself for not having perfectly memorised the whole map by heart already, since she found the vaseline can after the 3rd chest, and then, it took quite a while to find the bloody window that got the killer stuck - And by the time she got there, she was dead tired. "Okay, I'm here, I found the vaseline! Let's try to get you out of here." Y/N muttered as she put her feet on the low window pane to get to his level. "If it's not too much trouble, could you please hold onto me? I can't balance myself with both hands occupied, and I'd rather not fall." she explained as she opened the vaseline can, only to shiver as she felt two big, strong hands getting a firm grip on her hips. It was almost...Endearing, were she not too busy trying to get the killer unstuck. She kept massaging the metal edge, trying to push and pull, also praying to whatever deity that existed in her human world that she had her tetanus shot done on time - Until finally, she was able to get hear a loud screech, like a pop, and the killer got unstuck, and in the process, he stumbled backwards, while Y/N fell down on her butt.

"Ouchie..." she muttered, rubbing her back and sides to take away the pain surging through her body. "Are you okay?" she asked, almost intuitively, without realising it at first, until she heart a low grunt that brought her back to reality. "O-Oh...! You have glass shards stuck in your side! And you're bleeding too! Hold up, let me help." she hurried to his side, while the killer merely stiffened, feeling her delicate, slender fingers tracing his body, while he heaved and slouched his shoulders from the repressed wrath. "It may sting a bit, and I'm really sorry, but I promise it will be better soon." her voice was so motherly and warm, which also resonated in her actions, as she gingerly took a water bottle and imbued some tissues with it, to wipe away the blood smearing down his skin as she extracted the glass shards, and then..."This is grandma's marigold ointment. It's really good, and it smells nice." she explained as she carefully smeared a thick layer of the yellow ointment on the biggest wounds, while the little ones were covered by smiley-flower patterned plasters. They were cute, and colourful, and they never failed to make her smile. "Okay, there we go, all better! I hope you'll feel better very soon!" her voice got a tiny bit more cheerful and upbeat.

It made the Killer think about a trillion things, as he stepped in front of her, towering over her like the Empire states building next to a smiling pomeranian. What was with this girl? Why did she help a killer? And why did he feel so...Warm inside? He could sense a foreign kind of luminosity, a naivite and innocence that he only witnessed in children and animals. This woman in front of him was untainted by the darkness and evil of the world.

It didn't matter how many hardships she's been through, or how much sadness she had to endure - Her soul remained as pure as any snowdrop, as the first snow of winter, as the fleece of a baby lamb who let out its first 'meeeeh' to its mamma sheep.

He couldn't allow this human to be maimed in any way - Not by the world, not by the Entity, and certainly not by him. - Screw the Entity, Pyramind Head kills by his own rules, and now, he was blessed to be faced with a human who bore no real hatred for her peers, or for the world, despite the horrible situation she was thrown into.

He didn't understand, obviously, especially as he remembered the myriad of abominations that lurked through Silent Hill, all of them created by the torment of humans - The very torment that distorted their own reality, which resulted in him needing to solve the purpose as The Executioner - Eradicating the world of all evil.

"Th-This sword is so heavy...H-How can you carry this around like that...?! Your muscles must be so strained and sore...Y-You really need a massage, I'm sure." she stuttered as she tried to lift the much taller and heavier sword from the ground, only for the brute to simply bend and pick it up with extreme ease, putting the girl to shame with her complete lack of strength. "Hehe...You're really strong. I'm embarrassed now." she chuckled softly, scratching the back of her neck.

Before she could leave or do anything else, Pyramid Head picked her up by the throat, careful not to hurt her or restrict her air intake - I mean, how else was he supposed to carry her so he wouldn't hurt her with his metal head or sword? - and it was pretty clear she didn't feel any malevolence from him, as she clinged on his forearm, trying to keep herself up, only to be dumped on top of the hatch, as the killer pointed towards it, so she would leave.

"O-Oh...! Thank you so much! You're really kind! I really appreciate this...I-I know it probably doesn't matter much to you, since you'll be doing this over and over again with all the survivors...But I really appreciate you for your kind gesture, and I appreciate you for being so nice with me. Thank you. Take care!" her dazzling smile lit the whole place up, but he couldn't talk, nor could he tell her how he should be the one thanking her for showing him that, despite the hundreds and thousands of years he had to roam the 'Earth' and execute the injust, miracles still existed.

As soon as she reached the survivor's camp, everyone cheered for her, asking how in the world could she have escaped the wrath of the butcher. "Oh, but he wasn't that bad. In fact, he's much more humane than I anticipated! I think he has a beautiful, blooming heart!" okay, she's lost it - the other survivors thought - but even so, she's always been a bit...Out of it, so who cares?

It took quite a while for the other three survivors to reach the camp, all bloody, in fact, like the new killer, who dragged himself with the same menace to the Killers' camp. "How the hell did you manage to survive?!" they yelled at her in utter shock, seeing that she got out of there unscratched. "Oh, you see...I found the hatch." she shrugged simply, not wanting to give away that the person who massacred those three was a soft one and he basically threw her down the hatch to her safety.

As she took a twig to roast a marshmallows, she noticed how Pyramid Head was standing much farther away from the rest of the killers - She knew that silent killers were bound to stay away from the more obnoxious one, remembering how Michael Myers almost killed Ghostface and The Legion at least a dozen times - But this time...He seemed kinda...Lonely? So Y/N took the matters into her own hands, roasted another marshmallow in another twig, and when it was done, she went to the killer's camp, calling out the lonely one's name - She has no idea why, but he actually followed her, pushing her further deep into the forest, until he was sure nobody was going to hear, see or interrupt them...

"Hey. You seemed pretty lonely out there...I thought you could use a friend. Thank you again for what you did at the trial...Here, this is a marshmallow. I don't think you've had many before...Cheryl told me of that horrible place you had to live in...So I hope this will make your day a bit better!" Y/N extended one of her hands towards him, so he could take the marshmallow - And a long, black tongue erupted from underneath the pyramid, snatching away the fluffy marshmallow and gulping it in one go.

What the hell was he turning into?

A towering man built of pure muscle, wrath and divine justice, with a pyramid representing the evil of humanity burdening his body, and a sword taller and heavier than the average human being constantly dragged in one of his hand...He now was a slave to a cute, innocent girl who was putting flower plasters on his minuscule wounds that would heal in a heartbeat regardless - He saved this girl who was now offering his these soft, squishy things that tasted overly sugarly, just like her upbeat and cheerful personality - If he could eat her, he was sure she would taste even sweeter than this - A sickish kind of sweet, that is.

She was indeed a beautiful angel in this tragic hell. But he didn't wait to snatch the second marshmallow either.

"Ah...! You liked it, didn't you? Well...Next time, I promise I'll give you more!" she grinned at him the same way a princess would to her chivalrous knight who saved her. The since he couldn't talk, silence took over them - It wasn't an uncomfortable one, per se, but it made it feel as if the conversation was over. "W-Well...I'll guess I'll see you around! Take care and I hope to see you again soon!" she waved cutely, trying to turn around back to her camp, only to feel a rough hand on her shoulder, turning her around and urging her to stop and wait for him and he went deep into the forest, leaving her alone and undefended by the potential malevolent forces of the forest.

When he returned, however, he stepped right in front of her, creating the perfect shade as he towered over her - Then he kneeled in front of her, so he would reach her eye sight, then he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and put a beautiful pink flower - As pink as the blush that started creeping on her face - He wanted to see her luminous face better, to highlight her dazzling smile and her glimmering eyes as the warm, silver light of the mother moon caressed her face.

Y/N felt her heart picking up the pace - It was beating so much faster than ever before - But this time, it wasn't out of fear or anything negative...It was something good. Something she never felt in her life, especially with her human acquaintances from back home. None was as chivalrous and gentle with her as this butcher of tormented souls - The bringer of justice, the merciless Executioner who was supposed to end the life of every living being that would cross his path.

It was insane how every Yin finds its Yang, even if that comes in the form of a little lamb of a small, frail girl, and a huge abomination of a brute man who knows nothing but death, bloodshed and carnage. It was truly crazy how opposites attract, and here she was, holding the killers large hands and gingerly putting them on her face, leaning into his touch - She felt safer now than ever in her life - Now, in the arms of an ancient killer.

An Angel and A Demon brought together in a perfect union.

As she leaned down, she touched the metal of the pyramid where she anticipated his forehead would be with her own forehead, and closing her eyes, she finally felt herself calming down. There was no need for words, actions spoke louder than anything, and she appreciated it...She appreciated him.

"Thank you." she whispered to him, knowing that yes, even though nobody else would hear it anyway, it was much more intimate than anything she ever experienced.

She was hooked.

Hope you liked my completely shameless pun, I couldn't stop it, especially after the pain I went through trying to write this...3 freaking times.

Yay.

[unwantedtomost]

the night before — sebastian stan

sebastian stan x fem!reader

word count: 2,644 words

summary: you were invited to your ex’s wedding and despite all logical reasoning, you decided to go. now it’s the night before the wedding and you’re in the same night club with your ex. time to make some more mistakes.

warnings: angst, crying, cheating, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex.

a/n: i am going to make a part two because i want to explore this more. also, thank you so much for almost 500 notes on my first one shot! enjoy :)

The love of your life was getting married and it wasn’t to you. When you heard the news, you laughed out loud, a bit too loud for being in a quaint cafe. You thought that the girl Sebastian was dating was going to be nothing more than a rebound from you, even when you heard the news that they were engaged, you thought that it wasn’t serious. But now it’s the day before their wedding and you’re pretty sure she’s not a rebound anymore.

You wish you didn’t know what day the wedding was, but you did because you were invited. Sebastian invited you. What kind of asshole would do something like that? You know he saw it as taking the high road, being a bigger person, but it just came off as a pretentious douche bag move to show that he could be happy too. Without you. And how did this get past his fiance, Lauren? Did she want you to come?

You planned on not attending because why the fuck would you want to go? But then your friend, Emerson, talked you into it. “It’s in Hawaii,” “It’ll show him that you can still be friends,” “Rub it in their faces that you don’t care anymore.” They were all very shitty reasonings but you were drunk when you RSVP’d and even drunker when you booked the plane ticket. You had been drinking a lot in the weeks leading up to the wedding, it was the only thing that made all the nerves go away. You promised yourself that you would stop drinking so much after they were married and you intended on keeping that promise.

You had been trying your best to stay as far away from Sebastian as possible in the three-day period leading up to the wedding. It had been working well so far, until tonight. You and Emerson decided to go to a nightclub away from the resort you were staying at because you heard that that’s where the bachelor party was being held. Much to your surprise, that was false information. Now you’re starring at Sebastian from across the room with eyes wide and a jaw down to the floor.

“I thought you said they were gonna be at the resort!” You yelled at Emerson over the loud music.

“That’s what the bridesmaids told me,” she defended. “But it doesn’t even matter, we came out to have a good night. Fuck him! You can be nice tomorrow.”

You quickly started to regret every single one of your decisions you had made in the past three months. Accepting the invitation, booking the plane ticket, and leaving your hotel room tonight. You knew you shouldn’t be here but you were and you hated it.

“This was a mistake. I’m booking a plane ticket and I’m going back home. Tonight.”

“What?! You can’t do that.”

“The hell I can’t.” You grabbed your phone from your purse only to get it grabbed from your hand and shoved into Emerson’s pocket. “What the hell!”

“You’re not just going to leave.”

“Why not?”

“It’s been two years, y/n. You have been telling me that you’re finally over him for a year, that’s why we’re even here, right? Because you’re over him?”

You took in a shaky breath. No, you weren’t over him. You knew you should be, but you weren’t. You thought seeing him say “I do” would force you into moving on, finally letting him go. Now, you wanted to slap yourself for being so stupid.

“Yes,” you lie despite yourself.

“Good, so let’s go get you a drink and a hot piece of ass! And in the morning we’re going to watch as he gets married and you’re going to finally let go of him, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod.

You had to get over him, it had been two years. This was the way to do it. You would force yourself to let him go and be happy. That would make you happy … right?

You and Emerson walked to the bar, ordering shot after shot until you were dizzy. Then you ordered a long island ice tea which you did not need. After you basically chugged the drink, you made your way to the dance floor.

You changed from grinding on Emerson to random individuals and you couldn’t have cared less. Everything about tomorrow and moving on left your mind completely. Right now you were living in the moment, something you were always working to do. You could tell that the individual dancing behind you hadn’t switched for four songs, so you decided to turn around. You were hoping for it to be someone cute and nice. Someone to take you somewhere and fuck the worries away. Instead, it was Sebastian.

Your smile faded and so did his. You went still, your eyes trained on his. It felt weird to be the only people in the crowd not moving. You had lost all sense of anything, you didn’t know if you stood like that for seconds or for hours.

Something in your jumbled thoughts forced you to speak. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he yelled back. His face was unreadable at that moment, you blamed it on the alcohol but you weren’t sure if you could have deciphered what it meant even if you were sober. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Yeah, a few months, I think.” You were sure, it had been four months prior, right before you heard about the engagement. You ran into each other at a red carpet event and you tried your best to act normal.

“Do you … uh—do you want to go get a drink?”

You stood still again, silent. Your brain needed a minute to process the request. You definitely did not need another drink. “Sure.”

You followed behind Sebastian to the bar, a trip you had made with Emerson no less than an hour ago. He ordered himself a Screwdriver and you a Sex on the Beach, your favorite. You had both sucked down half of your drinks before either of you spoke.

“How are you?” He asked.

“Fine, I guess,” you replied. “How are you?”

“Good, good, really good.”

“That’s good.”

It went quiet again and even though the music all around you was blaring, it sounded only like white noise at this point. A thought came into your mind “tell him how you feel.” In a sober state, you would have shut down the thought immediately, but now it played on a loop. The chant continued to play in your head as you finished the last of your drink. You felt the tension in your body rise from your feet to the pit of your stomach, up past your throat, and to your head, making you dizzy.

“Can I tell you something?” You blurted out.

“Sure.”

“It’s loud in here.”

Sebastian chuckled, almost in relief. “Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

“No,” you said, too unaware to get how cringe-worthy you were being. “Can we go somewhere, uh, quieter?”

He nodded and you took his hand and went to go find a secluded location. You weren’t going to be that asshole who jammed the bathroom door shut. Also, you were pretty sure you’d get kicked out if you did that. It took a few minutes but you finally landed your sights on a room. The door was unlocked and you realized it was a coat closet, so you picked it as your location. You closed the door before turning back to Sebastian.

The music was quieter in here, it was muffled and far away. It smelled vaguely of cigarettes but you didn’t mind too much, it was dull.

“What did you want to tell me?” Sebastian asked, voice louder than it needed to be due to how unexpectedly quiet it was.

This was it, your one time to speak your mind. You might never get another situation like this ever again. You needed to let it all out.

“I don’t think I’m over you,” you confess. “And I really don’t know if I will ever be. I know it’s been two years and you’re getting married tomorrow, but I’m still not over you. I’ve been telling myself that when I see you at that alter tomorrow, everything is magically going to go away, but I don’t know if it will.”

“Why are you telling me this, y/n?”

“Because this is the one-shot I’m gonna get. You’re getting married tomorrow morning and you need to know this. Well, actually, you probably don’t, but I need to tell you. I need to let it out or otherwise, I think I might actually fucking explode.” You took a deep breath before the words started pouring out again. “When I heard you were engaged I laughed. It was funny that you were getting this poor girl’s hopes up when we all knew that you were just going to call it off. But you never did, and I was the only one laughing. I’m pretty sure that you were my person. And I think the only reason I accepted that we were done was because I didn’t think we were actually done. I thought you were gonna come back to me. I thought one day we would look back on this and laugh because it was so stupid.”

As you talked, your throat began to feel sore, your eyes stung from the tears forcing their way down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry about everything. I should have fought for us when we had the chance and I should give up right now and—”

Sebastian cut you off by cupping your face and wiping the tears away. “Hey, hey, hey,” he cooed softly, pulling you into him. You buried your face in his chest as he softly rubbed the back of your head. “It’s okay, you’re okay.”

His sweet tone made you cry harder. You wished he would have been mean. You wish he told you to get over it and move on. But he was sweet and consoling you because that’s the type of guy he was. He was the girl who consoled his ex-girlfriend on the night before his wedding. That’s the kind of guy girls want to marry, that’s the kind of guy you should have married. At least if he was an asshole, it would have easier to move on. No one gets hung up on the asshole, they get hung up over the good guy.

You pulled away from him, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand.

“Do you still love me?”

“Y/n…” he sighed.

“Tell me you don’t. God, please tell me you don’t. Tell me that you moved on and that you love her. Could you tell me that? Tell me that you never think twice about me and that you only invited me to your wedding because you honestly think we can be just friends. I need you to tell me you still don’t care. If you tell me that, I’ll walk out the door right now and you don’t ever have to see me again. I’ll wish you good luck on your marriage and I’ll be gone. Can you just tell me that? I really need you to tell me that.”

You looked up to him with pleading, puppy dog eyes. You wanted him—you needed him to tell you that it was never going to happen. You needed closure to move on.

“I-I can’t,” he confessed. “Not honestly.”

You let out a breath you were holding before pulling him closer. You kissed him deeply and passionately, you needed him. He pulled you closer, melting into your mouth. This was it, this felt right. You didn’t think about the repercussions, you couldn’t. All you could think about was his mouth on yours, his hands on your skin.

He backed you up so your back was flat against the door. The hand that wasn’t pulling you closer by the hip locked the door. He hoisted you up, seemingly with no effort as you wrapped your legs around his waist. You made haste with his button-up as he started to push your dress up your thighs. You stayed like that for a while, tugging, kissing.

After a while, Sebastian put you down. This made you nervous, was he going to leave you here? Was the kiss just one dumb, hot mistake?

Instead of walking away, he knelt down in front of you. He grabbed your panties and pulled them down your legs. You looked down at him and let out a moan at the sight of him; lips read and raw from kissing, eyes blown out with lust. He hiked your right leg over his shoulder before looking up at you, asking you if you wanted him to continue. You nodded aggressively, letting out a few whines of anticipation.

He dived in, sending you into a state of euphoria. You pressed your head against the door as your hands tugged at his jet black hair. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, trying your best to keep in whatever moans he coaxed out of you. You felt you were nearing your high, but he pulled away before you could get there.

You let out a cry at the loss of contact. You tryed your best to pull him back to you, but he instead pushed your hands away, pinning your wrists against the door. He stood back up, form towering over your own.

“You’re so fuckin’ needy,” Sebastian stated, voice low and raspy. He undid his pants before hosting you up against the door again. He pumped his member before putting the tip at your entrance, teasing you. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, pulling him closer by his shoulders. “Please, fuckin’ need you.”

With that, he pushed in, both of you letting out loud wanton moans. You forgot what is was like to be with him. He was on the bigger end of the men you’d been with and he was by far the best. As he thrusted into you, you started to realize how much you missed him every sense of the word. You missed the way he would kiss you in the morning, you missed the way he said he loved you in the middle of a fight, and you missed the way he grunted in your ear when you would have sex.

You both held each other close as he continued to snap his hips against yours. One of his hands reached down to rub your clit, making you let out another moan. You knew you were close again and you wondered how you could finish so fast when you were with him.

“I’m so close,” you warned.

“I know baby,” he cooed. “Wanna watch you.”

You leaned your head back so you could now see each others faces. He admired how you looked all fucked out and needy. He loved how your eye brows knitted together when you were trying not to cum and he loved the way you bit your lip every time he stared into your eyes. And he loved you.

“I love you, y/n,” he accidentally said, thoughts slipping into words.

Your eyes went wide but you couldn’t help but smile. “Fuck, I love you too, Seb.”

The confession brought you closer to your high and before you knew it, you were clutching his shirt in your hands as your legs cleanched around his waist. You both moaned loudly as you came, holding each other as close as possible. You stayed against the door, holding onto him tightly for a while. Then he slipped out of you and set you back down on shaky legs.

“Did you mean it?” You asked after minutes of staring into his eyes.

He hesitated, “yes.”

“Now what are we gonna do?”

[iwaslut]

— best friends

note: inspired by the line “she my best friend, yeah we not a couple,” from playboi carti’s song “sky.”

ft. connie springer and jean kirstein.

warning: afab!reader, suggestive content, college!au, alcohol mention/light intoxication, mxm, not proofread

⤷ main page

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ♡ 18+ CONTENT

you’re not dating connie springer or jean kirstein despite what your friends may believe. though you insist that you’re not dating either of them, sasha’s completely convinced that you have a thing for one of them at least, or maybe both of them, she teases, and the thing is, she’s not necessarily wrong. 

you’ve hooked up with both of them on multiple occasions, separately and together, but nothing more than that. connie and jean are your best friends, who you just so happen to fuck sometimes. the line between friends and more is blurry among you three, but you’re all content for the time being. as long as you have your best friends by your side, you’re happy.

you’re not dating, which is why you have no right to feel jealous that some random girl is all over jean and blatantly flirting with him. she’s basically draping herself onto him and the worst part is that jean seems to be enjoying it.

“i feel like i need to wash my eyes out with bleach.” connie plops down onto the leather sofa beside you, eyes trained on the duo who’s across the room from you two. you’re quick to take a swig of the drink he offers you, grimacing at the burn of cheap alcohol as it runs down your throat. 

“same.” though there are plenty of other people in the crowded room, milling about, your eyes stay on jean and the girl who looks like she’s seconds away from attempting to fuck him right then and there. how shameless of her.

“how about we put on a show for him?” you look up at connie, who’s now standing with his hand out for you to take. you recognize the familiar gleam of mischief in his eyes. the corner of your lips turns up into an excited grin, and you slip your hand into connie’s.

“lead the way, my good sir.” laughter tears its way out of your chest when connie pulls you up off the couch, causing you to stumble into his chest. your hands stay clasped together as connie navigates you through the crowd of sweaty bodies. once you reach an area that’s not quite as cramped and where jean has a clear view of the two of you, connie stops, turning around and easily pulling you until your chests are pressed to one another.

you wrap your arms around connie’s neck as his hands find their place on your ass as the two of you begin to sway to the beat of the song blaring throughout the house party. you giggle when connie leans in, warm breath ghosting across your skin.

“you look so fucking hot tonight.” a startled yelp escapes past your lips when connie’s hands suddenly squeeze your ass, prompting you to jolt and press yourself further against connie’s body.

“you don’t look so bad yourself,” you tease, running a finger over his chest. you laugh when he flexes his pecs underneath your touch. “very nice, connie.”

“i know,” he playfully brags. you don’t know if it’s the alcohol you’ve drunk or it’s connie playing around, but warmth floods your chest. you’re not drunk, maybe a little tipsy, which has you feeling all loose and warm. your breath hitches when connie’s grip on your ass becomes more firm as he presses his front against yours. you rake your nails through his shortened strands when he angles his head and starts littering kisses along the column of your neck.

“connie,” you whine, all high and out of breath, when he nips at your sensitive spot and presses his hips more insistently against yours. the way his clothed erection rubs against your aching core has you wanting more. you dig the blunt edges of your nails into connie’s shoulders as his playful nips morph into sucking marks into your neck.

you freeze when you feel another body come up behind you, but relax when the familiar scent of sandalwood floods your senses. 

“hey, jean boy! what brings you here?” you lean back against jean’s chest as connie greets the taller man. goose bumps erupt across your skin when jean slips his calloused hands underneath the hem of your shirt.

“nothing much, was just wondering if you had room for one more.” jean grins at connie before pressing a quick kiss to the crown of your head.

“i guess we could manage one more,” you tease, craning your head back to look at jean. he pretends to look offended for a moment before he leans down to slant his lips over yours. you moan against his lips when he slips his tongue inside your mouth while he grinds his hips against your ass. meanwhile, connie’s busying himself once more with covering the entirety of your neck with love bites.

when you two separate from one another, you lean your head back against jean’s chest and watch as jean leans forward to kiss connie. it’s dizzying to watch them, they’re so messy when kissing each other. when they pull away from each other, a thin line of saliva connects them before they both wipe it off.

you give them a lazy grin when they turn their attention back to you.

“how about we get out of here, angel?” jean coos into the shell of your ear, toying with the bottom hem of your shirt as connie tugs you forward by your belt loops.

your eyes sparkle as you bat your eyelashes up at them.

“my place or yours?”

[likeshipsonthesea]

I don’t know if you take requests for nurseydex fics... but if you do the song “omg did she call him baby” by Beth McCarthy screams a heartbroken Nursey when Dex has a girlfriend

i like really can’t do genuine heartbreak but i CAN do angst that ends happy, so here’s my best shot :)

Nursey’s got a red Solo cup in one hand and a plastic champagne flute in the other and it’s sometime after three but before five and he is definitely not thinking about her or him or them together when he looks up between one sip and another to see the telltale blue hair reflecting the murky spotlights of the basement.

Nursey squints. He could be making things up--his brain is nice like that-- but he doesn’t think he’s imagining things. She’s got very distinctive hair, Dex’s--girlfriend. It’d been rather disappointing, actually, the blue hair. The whole thing had been easier to deal with when he’d been picturing some light-haired brunette going for an economics degree who smiled like a mom at soccer practice. Someone who Nursey could reasonably dislike on grounds of, like, predictability.

But no, Dex had to bring home a blue-haired physics major with a nose ring and good taste in music and the ability to out-argue Shitty while polishing off Bitty’s pie, i.e. perfect. Even Lardo couldn’t pretend like she wasn’t awesome for Nursey’s sake. Even Nursey can’t pretend like Amanda isn’t awesome for his own sake. She’s just so--so--

Nursey squints.

So-- making out with some random girl in a blouse at a frat party.

What the fuck.

Nursey is about two margaritas and three years too deep to be dealing with the emotional ramifications of catching the girlfriend of his best friend (who he’s also kind of sort of possibly maybe totally in love with) macking on some consultant for Goldman Sachs or some shit in the basement of arguably one of the worst frats at Samwell. This one doesn’t even have good music, Nursey’s only here to get drunk without the possibility of Dex calling Nursey Patrol and helping Nursey up the stairs and saying nothing about the poetry Nursey spills or the way his hands linger.

(Fuck does Nursey hate Nursey Patrol, fuck does he hate how much he loves it.)

Nursey downs the rest of the champagne flute--which was probably mostly orange juice at this point anyway-- and hands the red Solo cup to a freshman gearing himself up to talk to a cute boy a few feet away and then Nursey gets the fuck out of dodge. He manages to get a better look at the corporate recruiter Amanda is cheating on Dex with (and really, if you’re going to cheat on Dex, you’re really going to pick a chick in a blouse that probably has opinions on the stock market???) and if he hadn’t been sure before, the distinctive tattoo on Amanda’s shoulder proves that it’s really her.

(“Tattoos? Tattoos? I have tattoos.” “I know you do, Nurse.” “They’re really nice tattoos.” “I know they are, Nurse.”)

Emerging from the basement and then the frat house itself is instantly sobering. The chill from winter hasn’t quite left the air at night and Nursey wraps his arms around himself and doesn’t think about how Dex chirped him about not wearing a coat before he’d left. The frat isn’t far away from the Haus, thank god, but it is slightly farther when he turns left instead of right and then has to a backtrack a bit, but he still gets back in under ten minutes and he can still feel his hands, so overall, a win.

Attempting to get into the Haus quietly is a lost cause, given its one thousand year old floor and the fact that a ladybug could fart in the kitchen and wake up the guys in the attic. Still, Nursey gives it the good college try, which is why he’s creeping ridiculously through the living room when the light turns on suddenly and he screams, much to the amusement of Dex, standing in the kitchen doorway.

“Fuck, dude, what the fuck.”

Dex just smirks in that horribly attractive way of his. “How was the Psi-U basement?”

Nursey thinks of blue hair, washed out in the lights, Amanda’s hand on that girl’s cheek, the way Dex smiles when he’s around her. “Fine,” Nursey says, swaying.

The amusement falters and Nursey wishes he could figure out a way to keep the smile on Dex’s face the way Amanda does. Dex takes a step closer. “Are you alright?”

Nursey shakes his head violently and takes a step back, a step farther away. This is the part where he says yes, yes of course Dexy-darling, I’m right as rain, what about you? This is the part where Dex rolls his eyes and loops his arm around Nursey’s waist, his warm side pressed into Nursey’s. The part where they go upstairs, where Nursey writes his best poetry that he’s too embarrassed to write down when he’s sober, where Dex tells him to sleep well and lingers outside the doorway long enough for Nursey’s breathing to slow and then the floor creaks and Nursey knows he’s gone and wishes he’d held on just a little bit longer--

“Nursey, what’s wrong?”

Nursey shakes his head again. He means to say nothing, he means to say, I’m going to bed, he means to-- “Amanda, she--”

The concern turns to alarm. Why can’t Nursey ever make it better? “Is she alright? Did you see her? Is she okay?”

Nursey shakes his head again. He can’t seem to stop doing that. “She’s fine, she--she--” He swallows, and it’s sticky, cloying, citrusy and sweet on the back of his tongue. “She--there was this girl, she-- Amanda, she--”

Dex won’t stop frowning, concern knitting his eyebrows together with three short wrinkles, and Nursey has wanted to smooth them out with his fingertips every time he sees them since sophomore year, and he shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be telling Dex this while he’s drunk, shouldn’t be telling Dex this at all, but he’s Nursey’s friend first and Nursey has to believe he’d tell Dex regardless of the love thing, he must--

“She was kissing some girl. In the Psi-U basement.”

The wrinkles smooth out. The amusement returns. Nursey--he can’t make sense of it over the ringing in his ears. Why is Dex smiling? Did--did Nursey do that?

“Did she look like a lawyer?” he asks, and at Nursey’s confusion clarifies, “The girl Amanda was kissing. Did she look like a lawyer?” Nursey nods dumbly. Dex’s smile only grows. Nursey is so, so confused and also more in love than he’s ever been. “Finally. I just won fifty bucks.”

What the fuck. “What the fuck.”

Dex laughs--laughs. “The girl’s name is Tammy. She graduated last year and moved to Boston. Amanda’s been in love with her forever, and I bet her that she’d get with Tammy before I--” Flush appears high on Dex’s cheeks, the soft pink one that means embarrassment and Nursey imagines would taste like cherry pie against his lips.

Nursey is--still quite a bit drunk. He needs--clarification. “You--you bet your girlfriend that she would get with her friend at a frat party?”

Dex’s nose scrunches up in Nursey’s favorite way--the same way it does when he’s trying to write humanities essays, the reason Nursey always says yes when Dex asks for help. “Girlfriend? Did you think Amanda was my girlfriend?”

Nursey remembers the start, hearing about Amanda every other day, then every day, then it was, sorry I can’t come, I’m meeting Amanda at-- and then one day at Annie’s, a girl with blue hair and a sharp grin yelled Babe! from across the room and planted a kiss on Dex’s cheek, her hand lingering on his shoulder, sipping from his coffee cup, getting him to smile like that--

“Well, yeah.” Nursey’s head is spinning and, for the first time tonight, not from the gin. “Is she--is she not?”

“Oh God, no, she’s so fucking gay, dude.” Laughter twinkles in Dex’s eyes. Nursey is drunker than he’s been since freshmen year of high school when Shitty snuck in some of his dad’s hard liquor and the janitors found them on the roof singing Disney songs at the moon. Dex’s girlfriend is gay. Dex’s girlfriend isn’t his girlfriend. Dex is--is smiling at him like he smiles at his girlfriend who isn’t his girlfriend.

“Oh,” Nursey says, dazed, “chill.”

“Oh wow,” Dex grins, leaning into the doorframe, “I can’t believe you thought--and you thought telling me my girlfriend was cheating on me at 3am while shit-drunk was a good idea?”

Nursey says, “Hey, honesty is important, and I’m not--” He stops. He remembers something. He squints. “Wait. If you bet 50 bucks on Amanda getting with Tammy, who did Amanda bet you would get with?”

The cherry pie blush is back. Nursey takes an absent-minded step forward. The room feels so much lighter now that Dex’s girlfriend isn’t cheating on him. The distance between them feels so much sillier now that Dex doesn’t have a girlfriend.

“Ah, well.” Dex rubs at the back of his neck, all country bumpkin sheepish to ask his sweetheart to the dance, and--and--

“I’m the sweetheart,” Nursey realizes with the kind of crystal clarity only afforded by the most copious amounts of alcohol.

Dex’s eyebrows furrow, those sweet little wrinkles appearing between them, and Nursey takes two long strides forward and presses his thumb into them. Dex goes cross-eyed trying to watch, but moves his eyes to meet Nursey’s after a moment.

Nursey grins, likely a bit sloppy from the gin, but he can’t find it in himself to care at the moment. “I’m the sweetheart,” he repeats, beaming.

Dex tries to repress the smile at his lips. “You’re not a sweetheart.”

“Yes I am,” Nursey sings, listing forwards. “You like me.”

“You’re an asshole.” Dex’s smile grows. Nursey watches its progress and sways.

“They’re not mutually exclusive,” he says, tracking the pink lips as they spread, revealing teeth and--and tongue and--

“I hate that you can still say mutually exclusive when you’re this drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm. See, I’ll prove it.”

“How do you plan on--”

If Dex’s mouth weren’t so preoccupied, he might say that the taste on Nursey’s tongue is a good indication that he is in fact fairly tipsy, but as it is--well. He’s got other things to do.

(Amanda asserts that they tied since it happened on the same night and only pays $25. Tammy throws in five more and a condom and they call it even. Nursey kisses away Dex’s protest and pockets the condom, much to Amanda’s amusement. Turns out, she’s even cooler when she isn’t dating the love of Nursey’s life.)

[hizashiiis]

Bakusquad + “Why are you awake” Part Two

PART ONE HERE

So here’s part two! Fun fact, the song Jirou plays you in her part is actually a song I wrote! I didn’t include any of the lyrics though because its lowkey really cheesy :/

I hope you like this! This one is for Sero, Mina, and Jirou.

Warnings: insomnia, depression kinda

Sero Hanta

- Sero is very much a hypocrite when it comes to getting enough sleep

- He’s constantly up at all hours, even sending you random texts if he can’t sleep

- But when you aren’t going to bed at a normal time?

- He’s so sad

- He looks like you kicked his puppy and then him in rapid succession. 

- It’s crazy because he seems to just instinctively know when you’re awake

- Like he bolts up in his bed all, “they ain’t in bed. I’m abt to beat some ass.”

- He’s never sure if he’s right though, so he texts you a meme he made specifically for you being up too late

- It’s probably really cheesy and outdated, but the effort is there

- If you respond to it (because you will) he knocks on the wall between your dorms and talks to you 

- Often, you both just stay up like that

Sero’s body is awake before his mind, moving him to sit up in bed before he can think. He was having a really intense dream; something about talking mice. He didn’t mind it, but he woke up as if he’d had a nightmare. 

Faintly, from the wall beside him, he can hear low music playing, but he can’t make out what song it is. It’s coming from your room, though, so he’s concerned. 

The sky outside is dark, clouds drifting across his windowed view of the moon. It must be pretty late; all the noise is gone, leaving nothing but static air, and the music. He leans over his bed to look at the time on his phone. It’s around 2 am. The song you’re playing ends, and he recognizes the next one. It’s on your sad playlist. 

He sends you the meme, as well as an invitation for a hug as soon as it’s morning. You respond almost instantly, assuring him that you’re fine, you just couldn’t sleep. But he knows you better than that. 

Knocking on the wall between you, he hears the music stop suddenly. He calls out to your wall. 

“Mi amor? What’s keeping you awake?” He’s met with silence for a moment before your shaky voice responds.

“I’m okay. I just kinda got hit with some sad, y’know?” He does know. He knows that this happens sometimes. It happens to him, too. But he hates hearing your voice sound so lost. You almost sound hopeless, and he can’t bear it. 

“I understand.” He places his hand up to the wall, wishing he could hold you. Unfortunately, you had both been told off by Iida for sleeping in each other’s rooms more than enough times lately, so he couldn’t just go see you. He opts instead for hugging a stuffed giraffe you had gotten him after the Sports Festival. 

“Do you want me to distract you, or do you want to talk about it?” He asks, stroking the giraffe’s head as if it’s your hair, not knowing that on the other side of the wall, you’re holding a stuffed lion the same way. 

“Distract me?” Your voice comes out only just loud enough for him to hear you, but he understands. He begins to tell you a story. He’s told it before. It’s about a great hero, one who fights crime valiantly, and his partner, also a fantastic hero. He ad-libs parts of it, making pretend villains say silly slogans, and recounting how the heroes save the day. 

As he reaches the end, he hears you giggle a bit. “Oh? Did it work? Are you smiling over there, my sweet?” He calls to you, a teasing lilt to his voice. 

“A little bit.” You respond, playing with your stuffed animal. “If you keep talking, maybe I’ll even smile more.”

He laughs, eyes bleary with sleep, but happy to talk to you the whole night.

Mina Ashido

- Honestly, she’s no better than you about staying awake

- She tries to sleep, but her thoughts are always racing

- Sometimes it’s thoughts of you, sometimes of new things she wants to try in training, or things she wants to see if she can convince her friends to do

- But she wants you to get adequate rest, even if it’s hard for her to do the same

- She used to get told off for sneaking to your room every night, but then Momo and Iida saw how much better you were performing in school on the days after she’d been there, and they started letting it slide

- It’s nicer for her, too, because she has someone to ramble to as the two of you fall asleep

Mina skipped down the hallway toward your room. It was a bit past midnight, and usually, you would be asleep by this time. It was well past lights out, and classes had run long that day, not to mention the endless exams that were happening at UA right now. So when she reached your door, she was surprised to find you watching a movie on your phone instead of snoring. 

“Hey bug! Why are you still up, don’t you know what time it is?” She says, throwing a grin your way as she puts her blanket down next to you. 

You shrug, yawning. “I could ask you the same thing, love.” She pouts at that, tossing her arm around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your temple.

She watches you watching your show for a few minutes before saying anything. It looks good, she supposes, but she has a better idea of what to watch. “Scoot over.” She pushes you lightly, giggling as you scrunch to the side to give her more room. “Do you wanna watch something with me?” She asks, holding up her phone. 

You look at her for a moment. “That is what we are currently doing, is it not?” You hold up your phone in return, showing her the paused screen. 

“But I have a better movie!” She insists, unlocking her screen and shoving it above yours so that you can see her pick. She’s right, it is a better movie. You guys have watched the entire Studio Ghibli filmography, but even you know that her favorite, “When Marnie was There,” is the better option at this particular moment. 

You toss your phone to the side, pulling her in to lay next to you. “Fair enough, bubs, I guess yours is better.” You feign reluctance, watching her excitedly press play and tuck the blanket in around the both of you. Her arm curls tighter around your shoulders, and she giggles as the opening credits start. 

“Hey Minari?” You use her favorite nickname, looking at her through hooded, sleepy eyes. She hums in response. “Why is this one your favorite?”

Hearing the question, she pauses the movie, turning to look right at you. She’s quiet for a moment, thinking about her answer. “I guess because they remind me of us! Like I’m Marnie, and you’re Anna, and we’re having this great adventure together!” You feel your face heat at her words, thinking about the movie more critically now. Mina continues, “It’s like…” she pauses, finding the right words. “Like Anna is learning how her friendship with Marnie can make her feel more right, as a person. And I feel like that about you!” 

You’re tearing up now, unsure how to respond. Mina is so many things, and being with you is that important to her? It’s a new feeling, but certainly a welcome one. You pull her down, giving her a kiss. And then another kiss. And one on her nose. 

“Press play, Mina.”

Kyoka Jirou

- Lol u think she sleeps?

- She does, but not at night

- Were it not for classes, Jirou would be essentially nocturnal

- So you try to remind her to go to sleep

- Sometimes you’ll walk past her dorm at night, and you hear her guitar, softly playing her favorite songs

- Before you got together, sometimes you would sit outside her door and listen to her play

- Not in a creepy way, there’s just a little common area right outside her room and you like took a book there, you weren’t like ooh it’s late i think i’ll sit outside someone’s room and listen to them

- You aren’t Mineta. 

- But anyway

- Now that you are together, Jirou thinks it’s really sweet that you listen to her play

- Sometimes she leaves her door cracked open so you can come in

It’s 4 o’clock in the morning, and the light is on in Jirou’s room. You had come out to go to the bathroom, but you noticed her guitar, and decided to stay. The soft strumming is pretty, and you’re glad to be one of the few people allowed to hear it. 

Opening Jirou’s door just a bit more, you nod toward her desk chair in a silent question. She nods, so you go sit down. 

She’s playing a song you don’t recognize, and the lyrics are sad. Even still, it’s beautiful, and your eyes seem to naturally close, taking in the melody of her voice. She used to tell you her voice wasn’t anything special, but she seems content now to let you listen. 

The guitar resonates with the last few chords, and the ending note is held for three beats. When she’s finished, Jirou opens her eyes and looks at you, waiting for your thoughts.

“It was beautiful. Did you write that?” You ask her, your hands fidgeting with the urge to hold her own. She nods, but doesn’t say anything. 

You don’t acknowledge the sad theme of the song. She’s told you before that sometimes sad songs are easier than happy ones. That the melody is clearer. You don’t mind. All her songs are beautiful, and they reflect her in them, and isn’t that what makes a piece of art?

“I have another one, if you’d like to hear it?” She looks nervous; something you never see on her.

“I’d love to!” Your exclamation seems to snap her out of the anxiety in her eyes, which narrow a little. 

“Just…” She starts, looking away from you to adjust the capo on her instrument. “Don’t freak out, okay?”

Confused, you nod, and she starts playing. 

The song starts out with a few chords repeating in a loop, and then she begins to sing. The lyrics are confusing to you at first, and you still aren’t sure why she’s told you not to freak out. But then she gets to the chorus, and it begins to make more sense. 

Lyrics, in essence, are a poem, and this one is a love poem. Her thoughts, written out, are so sweet and loving, that you’re sure you don’t know what to think. She sings elegantly, like someone who’s never known how to dance, and yet is waltzing perfectly across a shining floor. 

She finishes the song with a declaration of loyalty, and you realize your eyes are watering. She looks at you, waiting for your thoughts. 

You say nothing. You don’t know how to say anything, so you stand, cross to her, and pull her into a hug. She’s not usually one for physical touch, but she holds you tightly. 

“It’s about me, right?” You laugh, leaving a kiss on her calloused fingers. She rolls her eyes. 

“Obviously.”

She smiles at you, pulling you to lay on her bed as she puts her guitar in its case, taking the capo off the strings. “You should sleep. It’s like, morning now.”

“You should too.” You retort, still holding her hand. 

“No.”

[the-iceni-bitch]

A Surprise to be Sure

Pairing: Geralt/Fem!Reader

Words: 5761

Summary:  You meet Geralt and Jaskier on the road and have a lovely little adventure in the kingdom of Temeria.

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, explicit descriptions of violence, TW mentions of rape, SMUT, 18+

A/N: It’s here y’all, my b-day Geralt fic! I’m really happy with how this turned out and could honestly have published it without the smut, that’s how much I love this fic. It is definitely going to be part of a series so I hope you all enjoy! (PS I love writing Jaskier way too much and could honestly just do a full series of him having random misadventures all over the continent!) I’m tagging @navybrat817​ because I know she loves some Henry Cavill

Jaskier had been belting the Fishmonger’s Daughter for the past 30 minutes, and Geralt was ready to murder him.

“Must you insist on shouting our position to every living creature in a 5 mile radius?” He hissed at the bard.

“List, my grumpy, hoar-headed friend. I need to be sure my voice is in top form if I’m performing at a royal ball. Now, you’ll feel better if you sing with me, Oooh Fishmonger, Oh Fishmonger, Come Quell your Daughter’s Hunger!”

“I’m going to feed you that damn lute before we reach the castle if you don’t shut up. I can’t listen to this for three days.” The Witcher growled under his breath. He couldn’t figure out why he had agreed to accompany the irritating man on his journey, but the man always managed to convince him to go along with his stupid plans.  

“Now, Geralt. You know you secretly love my singing. After all, how many jobs has that little song of mine rustled up for you, eh? Stop being so grouchy.”

He gave him a grunt. “Fine, can you at least sing something else?”

“Ah, but of course, my large, angry friend. Eh hem, You think you���re safe, without a care…”

“Gods, not that one.”

“Well, there’s no pleasing you is there. Ahh, what’s that noise?”

A feminine shriek split the air, causing a flock of birds to take flight only a few feet from the pair of riders. Roach of course didn’t mind, but Jaskier’s mount almost threw him, causing Geralt to smile.

“Gods, see, this is why I hate travelling on these creatures. Give me a nice coach ride any time. Come Geralt, let us see what fair maiden is in need of our assistance.”

“Our assistance?”

“Well, your assistance. C’mon Geralt, a damsel in distress, this is the perfect material for a new song.”

Geralt followed the idiot as he rode towards the sounds of distress, determined to keep him from getting himself killed. He didn’t really like getting involved in petty issues of the realms but knew that Jaskier lived for these tiny adventures.

They came upon you, surrounded by five men in soiled armor. Your cart had a broken wheel and was sinking into the snow and mud. One of the men had you pinned in the back of the cart by your neck as he buried his other hand in your skirts. The other men jeered at you as they kept their watch.

“Look Geralt, a fair maid waiting to be rescued, what could make for a better song? Ho there fellows, stop your raping or you’ll have to deal with my cantankerous companion here.”

“Move along, bard this doesn’t concern you.” One of the soldiers growled at Jaskier before spitting to the side. “Or, wait your turn and we’ll let you and your pal have her when we’re done.”

“Ah, Geralt, I’ll let you take care of them. Make sure to draw it out, a long fight always makes for a better song.”

“Oh, fuck this.” You hissed, pulling out the stiletto you had hidden in your skirts and gutting the man who was restraining you.

Jaskier turned his head and vomited as the man’s intestines seeped out of him and he crumbled to the forest floor. You flung your cloak off your shoulders as you drew the obscenely large longsword you had concealed beneath its folds and chopped off the hand of the next soldier who came charging at you before plunging it into his chest.

“I don’t know, bard. Seems like the maid has things under control.” Geralt grinned at his companion once he had finished emptying his stomach.

You wrenched the blade free as the two unhorsed soldiers rushed you. One of them tossed his own dagger at you and you used your sword to whip it back at him, catching him in the throat. You brought up your dagger and crossed the blades you were holding to catch the sword of your fourth opponent. You managed to loop the dagger under his hilt and wrenched the sword from his grasp as you let the momentum from his attack carry you the two of you backwards, flipping him over your head until you were straddling his chest. You gave him a small smirk as your drove your dagger through his eye.

“Shouldn’t we be doing something?” Jaskier asked as he watched the bloody show with abject horror painted on his face.

“What would you suggest bard? The woman seems to be able to handle herself, and I can’t say these soldiers seem particularly deserving of assistance.”

The final soldier had dismounted and was now striding towards you, twirling his sword around like an idiot peacock. You scowled at him before pulling a massive crossbow from beneath the packages in your cart and shooting him in the shoulder.

He went down with a soft grunt and you strutted over to him, crossbow slung over your shoulder and dagger twirling through your fingers. You tutted at him like you were chiding a naughty schoolboy.

“Oh, Abbett, what did you do with the money? I certainly hope you have it on you. I don’t feel like trekking through this frozen forest digging for it.”

“You cunt.” The man spat at you. “We fought those bloody Nilfgaardians to keep these farmers safe and warm. The least they can do to thank us is give up a few bloody coins and their daughters.”

You shot him again in the leg and he let out a scream.

“One more time, Abbett, the money? I can’t give those poor girls their maidenhoods again but maybe their families can offer a dowry to make them good matches.”

“Argh, bitch! It’s in the saddlebags.”

“Excellent! See, not so fucking difficult, and you saved me the nasty task of gelding you!” You took a few steps forward and shot him through the eye as you went to examine the horse and find the stolen coins.

“Ahem, hello, madam! I am Jaskier the Bard and this is my companion, Geralt of Rivia! Would you join us on our journey to the capital of Temeria? You seem like a lass with stories to tell and I’m just the fellow to put them to song.”

“Jaskier, shut the fuck up.” Geralt hissed at him.

You whipped around to the two of them and pointed your crossbow at the Witcher. “Fuck, I almost forgot about you two. Well, you’ve given me a bit of a conundrum boys. I was counting on there not being any witnesses here. These vagabonds are still wearing the king’s colors after all, and we’re close enough to the capital that that could prove to be a problem for me.” You had started to unfasten the bodice of the gown you were wearing, desperate to get out of the confining layers of cloth that had comprised your disguise. You revealed an outfit of bleached leather and furs that clung to your body.

“Oops.” Jaskier murmured, giving Geralt a sheepish grin as he raised his hands in supplication. “Geralt, friend, maybe you can talk to our new companion.”

“Right, listen, we don’t care that you just slaughtered five of the king’s soldiers, though I’m sure upon closer inspection they’ll be shown to be deserters. And as we have no desire to bring any trouble down on you, we’ll just be on our way.”

“Wait,” You called after them, tossing the rags of your gown onto the abandoned cart as you saddled your horse. “If you’re heading towards the capital, I’ll join you. I have some deliveries to make before I get out of this god-forsaken country, and that way I can keep an eye on you.” You gave them a grin as you rode up the hill to join them. “I can think of worse company than a bard and a Witcher.”

Jaskier shot a grin back at you as you joined them. “Ah, finally someone who will appreciate my talents. Tell me… um..”

“Y/N”

“Y/N, lovely, do you have any requests?”

Geralt groaned internally at the thought of being stuck with two singing idiots for the journey but was cut short by the sound of multiple bows being drawn.

“Fuck.”

“That’s far enough you three.” A captain in shining armor commanded as you came into view of a mounted regiment of king’s soldiers, accompanied by about 100 footmen who all had arrows trained on you. “What do you know about several groups of dead king’s men that have been found in these woods.”

Geralt shot you a look of reproach over his shoulder as you pointedly avoided making eye contact, examining your fingernails like they were the most interesting thing on the continent.

“There’s another group of dead soldiers in the clearing back there, captain. Looks like we’ve found our culprits.”

“Oh, just wait a minute. My grouchy friend and I were just passing through when we came upon this lovely woman being set upon by these supposed kingsmen. Granted, we considered dispatching them ourselves but our fair companion had things well in hand. Seems like she was doing your jobs for you.”

You and Geralt shared a groan. “Shut up, Jaskier.”

The captain gave a snort of derision. “You want us to believe this pretty thing has been besting the king’s chosen troops on her own for months? Take their weapons and restrain the Witcher and the woman. The bard can sing us some songs to pass the time as we travel. We’ll save this for the king to sort out.”

You gave a heavy sigh and started handing over your blades. Jaskier’s eyes started to bulge as you continued pulling smaller and smaller knives out of an increasingly absurd number of hiding places, until there was an impressive pile in front of the soldier who had been tasked with collecting your weapons.

Geralt was less forthcoming in turning over his weapons and didn’t really start until a spear prodded him in the back. He was gazing at Renfri’s blade when the captain lost his patience, and the butt of the spear whipped across the back of his head, knocking him cold.

“Put his blades with the rest of it.”

Geralt woke up with his face buried in your hair and let out a groan at the throbbing in his skull.

“What the fuck?” He lifted his head, squinting against the sun reflecting off the new fallen snow.

“Good morning, Witcher. Apparently this type of restraint has been proven to limit the ability of the restrained to extricate themselves from their bindings. You missed a fascinating lecture on it as they were tying us up.”

The two of you were bound face to face on the saddle of your massive black courser. Your arms and legs tangled around each other and wrapped in an intricate series of knots. He started trying to wrench himself free, but only succeeded in bringing you even closer to him as he let out a grunt of frustration.

“Look at the two of you, so cozy.” Jaskier rode up with a grin on his face, strumming his lute. “Do not worry yourselves, my violent friends. I am currently working on a plan to extricate the two of you from this predicament. I have the ear of the captain.”

“Are you going to annoy him to death Jaskier? Maybe if you sing that damn abortion song enough times, he’ll release us just to be rid of you.”

“You wound me, Geralt. The name of that tune is “You Think You’re Safe” and you’ll be happy to know that the captain is enamored of my talents and has asked me to regale him and his officers at their meal tonight.”

“Ah, good for you Jaskier. Make sure to sing the ‘Fishmonger’s Daughter’ I hear that’s a favorite of the troops.” You smiled at him, throwing him a wink.

“Oh, I knew I liked you, Y/N! See Geralt, it isn’t so hard to appreciate what I bring to the table. Thank you for your advice, sweet lady, I will be sure to take heed!” He rode off, humming to himself as he tuned his lute.

“Why would you encourage him?” Geralt growled in your ear, still fighting against his bonds.

“Ah, Witcher, you need to relax. I’m sure Jaskier’s plan will work out just fine.”

“The bard is an imbecile, the day I trust myself to any plan of his is the day I resign myself to a slow and painful death.”

“Well, be that as it may, if you don’t stop struggling, we’re going to end up in a very uncomfortable situation.” You said, giving a gasp as another jerk of your bonds brought you indecently close.

“Fuck.” He let out in a hiss, resigning himself to waiting for a better opportunity as a lock of your hair blew into his face, smelling of pine and turned earth “I don’t suppose you have any sort of plan of escape, since it’s your fault we’re in this situation.”

“Geralt, I do apologize that you have ended up in my mess. I’m so sorry that the war with Nilfgaard has caused unprecedented levels of desertion, and that the cowards that have runoff have been terrorizing and robbing the smallfolk. And I’m sorry that the king failed to listen to the pleas of his people, who had to pool together the last of their coin to contract me to come in and relieve them of their problems. But yes, this mess is entirely of my own making, and nothing to do with the colossal mismanagement of the realm of Temeria.”

“Hmmph.” He grunted into your hair. “So how are you getting us out of this mess?”

You gave him a snort. “Don’t worry that pretty head of yours Witcher, something will work out.”

“Alright, dismount.” One of the lieutenants ordered, leering at the two of you. “Hope you two have enjoyed today’s ride. I hear they’re already constructing a gibbet for you in Vizima.”

“I see the royal council has decided to do away with even the minimal farce of a trial then.”

Two soldiers had started to undo the maze of knots binding you and the Witcher together and you gave a hiss as blood started to flow back into your legs.

“An attack on the king’s army is an attack on the king. No trials for traitors to the crown.”

“You do know that neither of us are citizens of this kingdom?” Geralt asked him. “You can’t betray a monarch you don’t serve.”

“Pssh, a minor inconsistency. The king can’t be seen as soft during wartime.”

“Oh, of course not.” You murmured as the soldiers dragged you off your mount and led you to the prisoners’ tent that had been erected next to the officers’. The same intricate raveling of ropes and knots started again as they bound your upper bodies to the poles in the center of the tent. You could hear the beginnings of revelry in the officers’ pavilion when they left you.

“Well, now what?” Geralt asked you, pulling against the bonds at his wrists.

“Just, have a little patience.” You chided him, leaning against your pole in as relaxed of a pose as you could achieve.

“You did hear that they plan on executing us once they get us back to the capital?”

“No, Geralt, I missed that.” You spat at him as you heard Jaskier start to sing and gave a small smile. “Excellent, let’s hope he leaves the good stuff until they’re well and drunk.”

“What are you talking about, Y/N?” He asked you, still trying to wrench himself free.

“For fucks’ sake, give it a rest. Apparently the royal knot tyers are the only members of this army who haven’t fallen lax in their duties.” You rolled your eyes at him. “Just give it a half hour and we’ll give you a chance to get out all the pent up aggression.”

“So you do have a plan? Any chance you want to let me in on it?”

“I think I’ll leave it for a surprise.”

The two of you sat there listening as the sounds of drunken celebration filled the camp. It only took 20 minutes for the revelry to reach a dull roar, and a smile crept over your face when you heard the first refrains of ‘The Fishmonger’s Daughter’.

“Ah, Jaskier, perfect timing.” You muttered.

The song started speeding up and spread through the regiment. You heard the soldiers start clapping along and seized your moment, bending your legs and driving your back into the post you were bound to at each clap, starting to shift it out of the ground with each drive of your shoulders.

Geralt finally seized on your idea and joined you in wrenching his post out of the ground. Within a few rounds of the song, they were loosened enough for you to drag them out of their anchors, causing the tent to collapse around you. You slipped your bonds over the ends of the posts and unraveled yourselves. Geralt gave you a look of appreciation as you hefted your post, flung the folds of the fallen tent off yourself and whipped the post around to take out the two guards that had been posted at the entrance.

“Well, let’s find our weapons, shall we?” You said, giving him a grin.

Apparently, your appraisal of the army had been accurate; you ran into minimal resistance as you made your way to the weapons tent and managed to knock out the only sentries you encountered before Geralt had a chance to react.

“Ah, my babies.” You said to yourself as you started resheathing the ridiculous number of knives you had accumulated for yourself, kissing each blade before you returned it to its rightful place.

“How can you possibly be comfortable wearing all of that steel?” Geralt asked you around a grin, watching you tuck a dirk between your breasts and wondering how you managed to not cut yourself.

“I’m a woman traveling the continent alone, Witcher. I’ve found that the element of surprise is my friend, and there’s nothing quite as surprising as an unexpected knife between the ribs.”

He actually laughed at that, strapping one sword to his back and one to his hip as you hefted your crossbow and loaded it with a bolt before heading back out into the snow.

You were met by the surprised faces of a drunken group of soldiers who were wending their way through the tents, arms around each other as the slurred the lyrics to their favorite song. You shot the first through the chest as you drew your longsword over your shoulder and you dropped your crossbow to the ground, slashing the second across the face before they finally regained their composure and sounded the alarm.

Geralt drew his blades and clashed with three of the remaining soldiers as you grappled with the other two. He managed to drive his long sword through one of their chests before the other two had a chance to converge on him and he struggled to drive them apart with his fists to allow himself room to maneuver. One of his opponents went down suddenly with a dagger through his throat and Geralt threw a look your way to see your first opponent down and missing an eye as you drove your knee into the chest of your second opponent, driving him into a post as you brought your sword around and ran it across his throat.

Geralt threw his assailant over his shoulder and rammed his blade through his chest as you let out a shrill whistle and hefted your crossbow as the sound of hoofbeats rose through the camp. Roach and your courser came charging around the bend suddenly and you latched onto your steed’s mane and swung yourself onto his back as Geralt vaulted onto Roach’s. You turned suddenly and led him back towards the officers’ pavilion as drunken soldiers did their best to pursue you.

“We almost forgot the fucking bard!” You grinned at him as you hopped off your horse and slashed through the back of the officers’ tent. You emerged seconds later with a terrified looking Jaskier, who you tossed over the back of your mount like a sack of potatoes before leaping up behind him and kicking your steed to a gallop.

“Either of you want to fill me in on what the fuck is happening?!” Jaskier shrieked as he bounced around.

The two of you ignored him as you rode on. You set a punishing pace through the whole night, not looking back until you crossed the river into the kingdom of Redania as the sun rose and you finally allowed your horses to slow their pace to a walk, dismounting to give them a rest.

“If my lute is damaged, I’ll never forgive you.” Jaskier whined as he inspected his instrument, hobbling along as he tried to adjust after the unceremonious thrashing he had taken during the ride.

“Jaskier, a little thanks should be in order. Y/N and I did save you from a rather nasty execution after all.” Geralt grinned at him as he walked beside you, Roach nuzzling him in the shoulder as he patted her snout.

“I told the two of you, I had the captain’s ear, I would have been able to talk us out of any trouble.”

You gave him a snort as your courser butted his head into yours, begging for his own pats. “Jaskier, you would have been strung up right beside us. Just think though, this little adventure has the makings of a great song, eh? I’ll buy you a nice hot meal and a bath at the inn we’re coming up on.”

“Well, I’d never say no to a bath. How close is this inn?”

“Just over the next hill.”

You arrived within an hour and made arrangements for the horses as Jaskier headed in to arrange rooms and meals for the three of you.

Geralt and you headed into the inn and you grabbed the two of you the largest mugs of beer you could arrange before joining Jaskier at a table and tearing into the trencher of bread.

“So, good news first.” The bard said. “I arranged for nice, hot baths for all three of us, in addition to our meals. The only thing is, they only had two rooms.”

Geralt let out a groan at that. “Fine, bard, I guess the two of us are sharing accommodations for the next few days then.”

“Aah, well. I figured, with you two having grown so close during our little journey, that you wouldn’t mind sharing the much, much larger room whilst I make due with the tiny, lonely room myself that I’ve already had them unload my things into.”

The two of you shot him equally reproachful looks over your mugs of beer as a barmaid arrived to let him know his bath was ready.

“Ah, splendid. Well, you two enjoy your breakfasts. I’m going to take a very long nap after my bath and I’ll see you this afternoon, or maybe even tomorrow.”

A whole roasted chicken arrived and the two of you tore into it without a word, polishing it off quickly as you hadn’t realized how famished you were.

“I’ll arrange for them to bring up the hot water for baths for us.” You told Geralt as you stood up and stretched, downing the last of your beer.

“I’m fine without.” The Witcher grumbled at you.

You gave him a derisive chuckle. “If we’re bedding together for the two days it’ll take for the horses to rest up, you’re bathing yourself at least once, I don’t need to smell everywhere you’ve been in the past month.”

He gave an uncomfortable shrug of his shoulders as he followed you upstairs. It had been a while since he’d spent the night with a woman he wasn’t paying, and there was something about you he found disarming. Endearing, but disarming nonetheless.

“Ah, at least there’s two tubs.” You said gleefully as you entered the room. A group of attendants arrived a moment later, carrying four large buckets of steaming water between them that they emptied into the copper tubs before taking their leave.

You started by pulling off your supple boots and Geralt turned his back as he began to unlace his jerkin. He heard you give a soft laugh behind him. “Are we really going to pretend like neither of us have seen a naked body before, Witcher?”

He whipped around at the amusement in your voice. You had removed your corset and sleeves and were down to nothing but a thin linen tunic on top. He tried not to stare at the shape of your breasts moving beneath the fabric as you worked at unlacing your breeches. You shot him a wicked look through your lashes as you moved your fingers back to unstrap the multiple sheathes that had been hidden beneath your bodice.

He did his best to ignore you as he ripped his jerkin off over his head. He made easy work of his tunic and breeches and sank into the tub while you were still working on undoing the intricate trappings of your hidden arsenal.

“I really don’t see how you can be comfortable in all of that Y/N.” He chided you as you removed the final straps and drew your tunic over your head before shimmying out of your breeches. He did his best to keep his eyes occupied elsewhere as you stepped into your own bath, hissing at the heat.

“Comfort is a matter of individual preference, dear. Oh, that’s wonderful.” You sank into the water with a sigh and dunked your head under before coming back up with a gasp.

“So, you going to tell me how you ended up with a warhorse, enough steel to equip a small band of thieves, and the strength to wield a tentpole like a damn quarterstaff, or is that something I’ll have to guess at?” He asked as he dumped a bucket over his head and ran the water through his hair before shaking it back out and splashing you, making you yelp.

“I think I’ll keep that my little secret for now, Geralt. Maybe if you buy me a few strongales over the next few days I’ll regale you with my tale of woe.” You let out a sigh as you felt your muscles relax. “Maybe I’ll get you to tell me your history as well. I hear the Redanians have a liquor that will light your chest on fire and make you forget the seasons.”

He gave a laugh and settled his head back against the tub. “You think you can outdrink me girl, you’re in for a nasty surprise… fuck.” He hadn’t heard you leave your tub and sat up startled when you crawled into his, sloshing water over the sides.

“Oh, Geralt, you’ll find that I’m full of surprises.” You said before pressing your mouth to his softly and giving a gentle sigh.

He got over his surprise quickly and wrapped his arms around you, pressing you to him fiercely as he growled against your lips.

You gave him a small laugh as you moved your lips down the line of his jaw to his neck, running your teeth along his collarbone before nipping at him softly as your hands moved down the plains of his chest, dipping below the water to take his cock in your grasp. He gave you a satisfying moan as you did so and you began sliding your hand up and down his length slowly as you raised a small bruise on his shoulder with your mouth.

He bucked his hips up into your hand as you increased your pace and you moved your other hand below the water to play with his balls. You leaned against his chest and gazed up at him with heavy lids as you watched him come apart under your ministrations.

He arched his back and gave a heavy moan as he came in your hand and you grinned against his chest as he softened, planting soft kisses along his throat as he came down and his breathing slowed.

He swallowed thickly and grinned at you before scooping his arms underneath you and lifting you out of the tub easily, making you shriek with glee before he dropped you unceremoniously on the large bed and pounced on top of you, nuzzling himself into the skin below your ear as his large hands skimmed down the sides of your torso before coming to rest on your hips and kneading them, raising bruises on your soft skin.

He brought one hand between the two of you and ran his fingers through the soft hair of your mound before rubbing them between your folds, making you arch into him as you let out a thin whine, fluttering your lashes as you gazed at him. He grinned down at you as he inserted two fingers at an agonizingly slow pace and you moaned as he started fucking them into you, curling them against that sweet, spongy spot each time.

He added another finger as he buried his face in your hair, inhaling your clean scent as you mewled and whimpered, begging him for more. He started strumming your clit with his thumb and you writhed underneath him, doing your best to grind your cunt into him as his fingers stretched you.

It was almost too much when he added the fourth finger and you wrapped your hands in his silver hair, pressing his face to your neck as you cried silently. He moved his mouth back to yours as he increased his speed and pressure on your tiny bud, moving his tongue softly past your lips and tangling it with yours. You came around him, clenching down on his fingers in your release as all the breath rushed out of you. He felt you go rigid beneath him before you collapsed back against the bed with a sigh.

“You think you’re ready for me sweetheart?” He asked as he kissed your neck, moving his hands up to palm your breasts.

You pulled his head back by his hair and gave him a grin before squeezing his sides with your thighs and rolling until you were on top of him, straddling his hips.

You sat up over him and he groaned at the sight of you, soft skin moving over lean muscle, a patchwork of faint scars covering your torso. He ran his thumb over an especially noticeable one that ran over your ribs below your left breast as you guided him to your entrance and sheathed his length inside you suddenly, making him hiss.

You started grinding against him, rubbing your clit against his pubic bone before you started fucking yourself on his cock. He tossed his head back with a moan and a murmured “Fuck” as his hands moved to your hips and guided your thrusts, meeting your hips with his own as he rutted up into you.

He sat up suddenly and pressed you to him as he knelt beneath you, staring into your eyes with lust blown pupils, a thin golden ring around a pool of deep black. You wrapped your legs around his back as he fucked up into you at a faster pace, making it hard for you to breathe.

He wrenched your head down to his and crashed his mouth against yours, his tongue invading you hungrily as you felt your pleasure starting to coil in your abdomen and you whimpered into his mouth.

He felt you starting to clench around him and moved a hand between you to strum at your clit. It only took a moment and you were flying apart around him, every muscle below your waist spasming as your orgasm wracked you and you cried into his mouth. His release was right behind yours as his hips stilled and you felt his spend spurting into you, coating your velvety walls in his release with a feral growl.

He collapsed back on the bed, still holding you to him as you both came down from you pleasure, breathing heavily as your hearts pounded together. You propped your chin on his chest and gave him a sinful grin that he returned, planting a kiss on the top of your head as you started to untangle yourselves.

“Well, if all your surprises are that pleasant, Y/N, I can’t wait to find out more.” He said to you over his shoulder as he stood up from the bed, grabbing a towel to finish drying himself off. He tossed you one and you ran it softly between your thighs, cleaning the mixture of your releases from your slit as you grinned back at him.

“My dear Witcher, I aim to please.” You threw a wink at him before you stood up and stretched. “I arranged for some clean clothes to be brought up, could you check the door for them?”

He peeked his head out and brought in two sets of soft woolens, tossing one to you. You yanked a tunic over your head before stepping into the clean pair of breeches. You decided to forgo most of your blades for the moment, opting for a simple belt that contained two daggers once you had finished lacing up your bodice.

“Shall we head down for more ale?”

“Gods yes, what else do you know about this storied Redanian liquor?”

You gave him a throaty laugh as you headed down to the main room and lute music floated up to meet you.

“Ah, Y/N! Geralt! My friends! Join us for a song won’t you? Y/N, I still want to hear you sing ‘The Fishmonger’s Daughter’ for us, eh? Oh Fishmonger, Oh Fishmonger, Come Quell your Daughter’s Hunger”

“Gods, Jaskier, aren’t you sick of that song yet?” Geralt growled half heartedly

“Pull the stick out of your ass, Witcher. C’mon, Jaskier. To pull on my horn, as it rises in the morn!”

“What a lovely voice you have my lady! For tis naught but bad luck, to fuck with a puck!”

The Witcher rolled his eyes at the two of you as he headed to the bar and the rest of the patrons joined in. What he wouldn’t give to never hear this abominable tune ever again.

“Lest your grandkid be born, a hairy young faun! Bleating and baying all day, hey ho!”

Permanent Tags:

@drabblewithfrannybarnes​

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

Into The Thick of It (1)

Loki x Female Reader

Chapter 1: The Cult

Series Summary: Her work as an agriculturist nearly takes the readers life is not for a stranger (and his weird looking dog) who later turns out to be the God of Mischief. Thrown into a completely different realm, you want to figure out a way home while trying to stay out of the way of this literal God. But fate has its own plans for the two of you.

Written for @tarithenurse and her #Taris1Kchallenge

Warnings: torture, sacrifice, undertones of rape

Word Count: I am on a break. It feels good to just breathe without dreading the rest of the day. Why is work so punishing?

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

One single machine whirrs in this dull laundromat. The light above you flickers at intervals so regular you have already made a beat out of it. The only other sound distracting enough is some old music playing on the radio at the front desk where no one sits at this hour. And that fan that seems to be breathing its last over your head. "Yeah, it's unbelievably quiet here," you mentioned in a soft tone before looking around the empty space. "I guess I'm glad I only had to stop for three days here." "What? Are you not going to explore this place?" your friend, Zaira's voice crackles through the phone. You shrug despite knowing she cannot see you. "I don't know, Zai, this place gives me the creeps for some reason. I am only hanging around here because Prashant wants to revise the reports I sent him of the soil composition before he gives me a green light to leave this place." "Damn! That bad?" "Oh! You have no idea!" You look around once again. The front desk guy has just come back in his old Chevrolet and the clock has struck nine. "Zai," you whisper in the lowest tone possible, watching the man whistle as he gets out of his car without closing the door, "there are no kids in this village-slash-town." He walks to the back to open the trunk of his car, whistling a somewhat familiar tune. "That's...not haunting at all!" Zaira's sarcasm can be heard in her surprised tone. "Well, what's more haunting is the fact that the youngest person here is an eighteen-year-old boy who keeps showing up anywhere I go and keeps staring at me funny." The man shuts the hood with a loud thump and you can see a fresh bundle of store-bought rope, a baseball bat, a bottle of some chemical-probably for cleaning- and a pair of rubber gloves as he starts walking to the entrance. "Allah-" Zaira takes the Lord's name in surprise- "no wonder they have The Sacrifice playing somewhere there." The man sets everything on the front desk, still whistling the same tune, which you now come to realise is the song that is currently playing on the radio. "The...the what?"

"The thing playing in your background," Zaira comments, "it's playing on a two strong instrument with a looping chorus. It's a pagan ritual song that is sung by some orthodox communities that still present a sacrifice to their pagan gods. We learned this in the summer session for cult studies, boo. Oh, wait. You were back home that time. The chorus basically says 'here's your sacrifice, now pay my dues'." Not a word of what Zaira said is heard after the pagan ritual song because suddenly all the materials resting on the front desk are making sense. So is the creak of the back door that opens to let the only teenager of the town in. Your body is frozen in place, your mind has gone blank. One moment you are running for the exit. And the next, you are lying on the floor with the two men hovering over you while the song calling for your sacrifice slowly fades away. . It is the discomfort from the heat that wakes you up. The sweat and stickiness all over your body slowly registers in your brain that alerts of a throbbing ache at the back of your head with a bang. Everything is a blur for a few moments; till the lights morph into fire beacons and the sun transforms into a bonfire, the figures moving around you become humans with faces smeared in blood. Your clammy skin shines in the light of the bonfire, your hair sticking to any part of you. Tears are rolling down the edge of your eyes while your brain is registering this new pain altogether from the gag in your mouth. You try to move your hand to touch your skull where it hurts, but are unable to do so. My hands...I can't move them. Your dizzy brain gives your body the command again but in vain. "She's awake!" a raspy voice pierces through the air.  And within a speck of a second, all the memories start rushing in. Y/N? Hello? Babe, can you hear me? Adrenaline shoots up in your system and your senses are heightened. The smell of kerosene is heavy in the air along with the crippling stench of burning flesh. You have been bound to a pole with your hands behind you, the bonfire in front of you, the forest surrounding you from every corner and the moonless sky on top of you. The faces in the fire are all familiar. The residents of this town, all staring at you while you struggle to get out of the ropes cutting through your skin, stop their movement to pick up the bowls kept in front of them and drink its contents. Your cries are muffled; partly because of the gag and partly because of the sobs that want to escape your throat just like your tears. Your already broken body jumps when the oldest woman in the group starts shouting phrases in a language unknown to you. And just as she begins, everyone around her takes out a dagger and starts moving in your direction. Your heartbeat seems to drop for a moment. They can see the horror in your eyes. But that does not stop their moments. The woman's chants grow heavier as her hand moments grow more vigorous. The youngest of them all skips a step or two to straight away jump on the platform where you are kept on display. He looks around once and turns to you to move your sweat laden hair strands away from your face. His pale fingers are cold, almost icy to the touch. "Don't worry, I'll get you out of here," he whispers close to your ears. Your sobs turn to sniffs to hear his words and look into his eyes. Those grey irises are trying to dig straight into your soul. "Trust me." Your instinct- which has never been wrong in your life- is already moving your leg to bend the knee and get his balls. And you do. Watching him writhe in pain for one long satisfying moment as he curses you from heaven to hell. But he gets back up, with the eyes of a madman ready to kill. You are crying out still, for anyone who will listen, in heaven or hell, as he takes you by your throat. The venom in his hold is enough to take your life. "The only way out-" he says close to your face- "is through, you cunt." One last prayer comes out of you as a whimper before you wait for his dagger to meet you.  In the next heartbeat, everything turns white. . Everything is blinded by a white light. It does seem to be the end. Why did I have to die like this dammit?! A Buzzfeed Unsolved episode?! But something does not sit right.  The white light should be the end, right? Then why can feel something wet under my h- Before you realise you are tumbling down the steepness of the forest. Your body can feel every rock and every pebble on the way down the seemingly endless slope. It seems like a long while when your limbs finally skid on flat rocky terrain, bringing the ringing pain to a halt before it can bounce all over your body a bit louder in the deafening silence. The first thing your senses do is look for any sign of danger around you. The forest is dark. And apparently different than the one you were in before. The trees are taller and with trunks that would not fit in your hugs. You cannot see their ends in the sky from where you lay. Not weird at all. The silence too sends your wounded heart into an anxious stir. Not even the cicadas speak here. Am I...dead? Now that definitely stirs something out there. A twig breaks in the distance. You pause your breath and shush your racing heart. A soft rustle of leaves can be heard somewhere that lets your sweat run cold all over the body. It is hard to breathe through the gag as it is, and you are standing nowhere near a hiding spot, making your basic instincts run wild with any shadow you see in this treacherous night. So all you do is stand as still as a trembling mouse and wait. And that wait isn't long. Call it nature's mysterious ways or just a random event happening at the right time, a cool breeze stirs the air for the first time in this place. From where you stand, the breeze hits your back, tickling those sweat beads on the nape of your neck before letting you smell the odour of blood it carries with it. All the neurons inside you make you turn around and face a familiar figure emerging from the shadows with a dagger in his hand. The basic instincts inside you are already making your body break into a run in the opposite direction. The rush of the flight instinct is overpowering all the injuries and you forget for a second that your hands are still tied behind you as you speed straight ahead. But that devil of a man is fast. He has already closed the distance and his hands are grabbing your hair, pushing you both to the ground. He presses you down with his body, not giving you any room to get up or free your limbs. But he does untie your gag before turning you around and holding your neck in a choke-hold. "Please, please, please..." Nothing else is coming out of you at this point; except for hot tears streaming down the side of your face.  "Well," the bastard sighs, pressing down his pelvis on your abdomen while having the audacity to smirk when looking down at you, "we had to sacrifice a virgin. But surely it's going to work the same if I put that mouth to work." The dread of his words does not set in till his free hand reaches for the button on his pants to undo it. The more you try to push away from him, the tighter he grips your throat. Oh, Gods! Just let me die instead. He is halfway undoing his zipper when a sound cracks through the air. It almost sounds like a very quiet motor either just starting or just stopping. And the closer it gets, it starts taking the shape of a growl coming from the throat of an animal. The man is distracted now; looking for the source of the sound. Loosening his grip a bit, he turns around to let his vision get as far in the dark as it could to look for anything out of the ordinary. And while he is busy, it is you who notices its presence and choose not to make a sound. The man turns around to look right into red eyes gleaming at him from a distance of three inches, sending him jumping up and crawling back on the ground as far away from you as possible. Huge white canines visible even in this darkness are on display as this four-legged creature growls in your captor's direction. A twisted horn rests majestically on each side of its head. Paws as huge as a lion's, but claws twice as big and dark as the night are resting on either side of your shoulder. The fur seems dark and dense except for where pointed bones are protruding out on its back. The growl revving in this creature's throat is enough for the predator to crawl back further with his heart stuck in his throat. And before he can figure out what demonic hell this creature had walked out from, he comes to discover another wave of fear when he sees a shadow behind it in between two trees. That shadow seems human. Human enough at the very least until he thought he was hallucinating that figure with gleaming green eyes. "Wh-who's there?!" the man's voice starts in a scream ends up in a squeak. "Get that ugly dog away from here!" The 'ugly dog' shifts from your side to take a few steps towards the bastard, metaphorically pinning him in between the roots of the trees he was sweating in. "Hey!" he shouted again at the shadow, "can't you hear me?!" You sit up, watching the creature slowly ready itself for attack mode. Turning around, you too are able to see a figure. It looks tall and is evidently clad in something heavy. Is that a sword in his hand? But that sword is not as concerning as those illuminated green pupils. "You son of a bitch! Get the fuck out of here before I stab you and your filthy farm ani-" "Rífa hann í sundur," is all you hear in a low hum from that figure's end one second. The next, there are growls and blood-curdling screams emerging from behind you; haunting enough to make you jump and curl up where you sit but never move your eyes away from that shadow that still stands as still as a rock. Tears still fall from your eyes; your legs pulled as close to your chest as possible. The screams continue to come out for a long time...long enough for you to notice a snowflake fall on your knee. More snowflakes come after the first one. And once the screams die down, you feel something brush your hands, almost making your heart fall out, only to realise that creature standing right behind you nudging at your ropes to gnaw your hands out of them. The adrenaline rush has diluted now. The pain and exhaustion that comes with it now lie heavy in your bones. Your eyes cannot take it anymore. But they still want to see that figure which now takes the liberty to walk out of the shadows underneath the clear light of the nearest moon. Your body is ready to fall but the creature provides some support to your lifeless limbs. Its fur feels so good on your cheeks. And that pale face coming to a stop in front of you feels almost angelic. Those green eyes are looking at you with both concern and judgment but what your brain registers first is the moonlight falling on those otherworldly cheekbones framed with clean braids. You want to keep looking at that face for a few more minutes. But there is only so much your wounded body can take before everything is a blur. . You have already hit deep slumber when the God comes to stand before you. He gets down on his knees to get a close look at your face buried in the hound's face.  "What do you think she's doing here, Agni?" Agni huffs and shifts enough to let the God have a better look at the face marred with wounds and bruises. A face that still looks so serene after putting up such a fight. The long pale fingers move those few strands of hair away that are blocking your features under the light of the moons. Calculations have already been done in that mind. What's left is to figure out whether to leave you here in the depth of the endless garden or... "Agni-" that voice commands with zero emotions, still studying your features- "call out for help. We are taking this one back to the camp."