#william remembers being tortured

[william-the-ladyfinger]

Tell me ...

@angelo-chuck-wagon Since I went through a lot of crap myself, don't you want to tell me what it was all about between you and the Morningstars?

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

thinkbing about. him

[misserabella]

omg!!!! can we pleaseeee get a part 2 of come over w abby it was literally the best thing i have EVER read ilysm for making that, i didn’t know i needed it until nowhdjjsh <33333

come now

pt1 (come over)

synopsis; abby ran away. but she couldn’t keep herself away from you for too long.

cw; +18 content! minors dni!, party, drinking, smoking, drug usage (weed), mentions of other girls, jealousy, hickeys, teasing, arguing, public! touching, kissing, making out, hate and needy sex, tit and nipple play, dom! abby x sub! reader, fingering (r! receiving), cursing, hair pulling, chocking, strap on usage (r receiving), recording with phone, cum eating, mommy kink, breeding kink, multiple orgasms, praising, praise kink, possessiveness, squirting…

you can feel her eyes on you. you were sweaty, dancing in between that pile of college students that needed a getaway for the weekend. you had so much alcohol on your veins, mind fuzzy and skin warm. she looked good. with a pair of green cargo pants and a tight fucking black shirt. her shiny blonde hair was down on her back, and in between her fingers stood a blunt, a glass filled with alcohol on the other hand. she was resting against a wall, two of her friends talking.

she was supposed to be paying attention, but she couldn’t catch a word when you looked like that. the party was filled with pretty girls of all years, but jesus christ, none of them took her breath away like you did.

after that night, in which she had finally been able to make you moan her name, to have you on her sheets, she had ran away, leaving before you would wake up to god knows where. now it had been a week, a week in which you’d seen abby with all types of girls.

you couldn’t help but scoff at it. of course. you were furious. confused. but at the same time you couldn’t help but want to kick yourself. it had been that easy. as easy as a little call and she’d had you dicked down. had she lied? had she just used you? you were pretty much the last girl she had not yet fucked from the whole school. maybe she just wanted to complete the list. well, now it seems like you were just one more of them.

your whole body had burned. snapping at ellie when she’d dared as ask what had happened. you couldn’t tell her that you had fucked abby anderson, even less that you had liked it.

you were burning up.

your pride eating at you to not stare. to forget about that night. and you had tried. tried multiple nights to forget about her, but al you could do would be roll on your sheets with the reminder of her touch. of her tongue.

you could cum with her name on your tongue. it was awfully easy. and you hated her to her guts for it.

abby did too. she had caved fucking in. she had gone and fucked you. she had promised herself she wouldn’t. ever. you were trouble. you made her feel things she didn’t like to feel. you made her smile when no one else was watching with your little stupidities —she was always staring at you, you just wouldn’t see it—, and made her want to punch herself at the many times you left her awake not being able to take you out of her head.

she could still remember the jealousy of the first years of high school. when cute boys and girls would approach you. she so knew you should be hers. but she was supposed to hate you. she had to. she couldn’t like you. not you. you couldn’t give her butterflies and make her go weak in the knees with just a smile. she wouldn’t have it. wouldn’t accept it.

but you had cracked her. you seem good at it.

the thought of ellie williams in between your legs, her fucking place, had made it impossible to not beg you to come to her. to tell you what she felt. she needed you. and each day, each second was torture. she was meant to break. you had broke her.

with your sweet fucking voice begging for her, your soft moans and your taste. she had tasted heaven. a very dangerous drug. and she couldn’t get addicted.

of course. she had girls asking for one night everywhere, but not even the prettiest one of them all could make her forget about you.

at how beautiful you’d sounded. how good you had taken her cock and made her cum.

she couldn’t ignore you. couldn’t fucking make herself turn to who she was before it all.

your dress was rilling up, soft plush of your thighs showing for her hungry eyes. there was alcohol shining on your lips. and she wanted to lick it off. she was high out of her mind.

but she knew. she knew she couldn’t go another day without it all.

you looked so hot on your tiny dress and high heels, sweat shining on the skin that she had branded before. she wandered if you worn anything underneath. if you’d gone out to try and drip for someone else.

she couldn’t help it. she wasn’t really paying attention to the girl that had been staring and talking to her through the whole night. her eyes were on you, and that fucking girl.

you didn’t knew where your friends were, you didn’t actually care with the buzz in your head and the soft kisses that some girl was leaving on your neck. her hair was soft, short, brown. and her eyes were dark. she was beautiful. and you were desperate. it was easy to fall on her arms with the need to forget abby.

but suddenly. there was that pine scent, and those warm hands gripping your hips. you felt on your back the hum of a harsh “go.” and next thing you knew was that ava was disappearing.

your blood was boiling as you turned around to face anderson. abigail fucking anderson. with her hooded eyes, sharp jaw and big arms. the alcohol was quickly evaporating from your blood. you pushed away. “what the fuck anderson?”

“anderson?” she inquired. “what happened to ‘abby’?” she smirked and you rolled your eyes. “i liked that better.” she leaned in, and you gasped when she got a grip on your hips, pulling you against her. “even more when you were moaning it.” your body shivered at her words, warm on your ear. “who’s the girl, hm?” she inquired, and you scoffed.

“could ask you the same, don’t you think?” she gritted her teeth, and you looked into her eyes. she was staring at the hickeys decorating your neck.

“what? you jealous sweetheart?” she inquired you, and your stomach jumped at the nickname. you could remember her telling you to cum, fucking you harsh and deep. ‘why don’t you come all over my dick, hm? let me see you fall apart.’

your cunt throbbed, and you felt your slick pooling in between your lips. fuck. no. not again.

“i’m not the one coming back to you.” you muttered on her face. and you saw a vein pop on her neck. suddenly, there was a a harsh grip cupping your jaw. she was close. so close you could almost taste the weed off of her lips.

“careful.” she warned, voice low. so low your knees almost wobbled, your throat almost got ripped with a whine.

“or what? you’re gonna beg?” you pushed her. again. just a little further. just a little more. and that’s all she needed to finally do something about it.

the hand on your jaw circled your neck, tugging you against her lips. she groaned on your mouth, and you whimpered, her tongue pushing inside as her fingers left bruises on your hip. the kiss was angry. all teeth and tongue. she felt the same. she still made your hands shake as you pulled on her hair, still made your chest tighten up and your stomach drop.

“fucking brat.” she growled, kissing down your neck, biting over the hickeys glowing on your skin. she needed to put hers over them.

“fucking dick.” you answered.

“yeah, i’m sure you miss mine, huh?” she chuckled on your ear. “fucking you open. you looked so pretty crying on it. so sweet begging…” you moaned, your hips thrusting against hers, feeling the bulge of her strap under the denim.

“shut the fuck up.” you seethed.

“why don’t you make me, pretty girl?”

you did as soon as your mouth was crashing against hers. she grunted, biting down on your lip.

“oh fuck abby.”

“was killing me seeing you with that girl. couldn’t stop thinking about her fucking you like i did, getting the chance to see how good you look when you cum, make you cry…was driving me crazy.” she confessed, making you whimper. “just wanted to come here and fuck you with my fingers. show her and everyone here who you belong to.” you moaned, her teeth nibbling at your neck, her free hand now on stomach, trailing down your stomach. “you’d like that baby?” you nodded. “i beg you would.” you whinedwhen her hand cupped your throbbing and dripping cunt. the distance in between you so little no one could see as she pushed your panties aside, thick fingers spreading your lips and glistening in your arousal. “fuuck. you’re soaked, doll.” she smirked, at the gasp you let out, at the way your thighs clenched. “is it for me?” she inquired and you nodded. “words.”

“yes, abby, fuck…”you sighed, your hips thrusting against her touch.

“upstairs.” she ordered, tugging from your hand and making you whimper when her fingers left you. she was quick to find an empty room on the second floor, pulling you inside and closing the door. it felt like the next breath you took came from her lips. she tasted like weed and alcohol. so sweet and bitter.

“take this off.” you begged, pulling from her black shirt, and she was quick to push it over her head, toned stomach and chest exposed for you to see, her tits perfectly cupped by her sports bra.

“you’re drooling.” she smirked and you rolled your eyes.

“shut up and fuck me.”

“fuck i missed you.” she muttered against your lips, and you whined. “you and that fucking mouth of yours…” her tongue pushed against yours, spit dribbling down your chin as you let her pull from your dress, leaving you in a cute set of lingerie that had her almost falling to her knees.

you were pulling and pushing at each other, ending up on the double bed, your legs at either sides of her thighs, straddling her lap.

her hands where on your hips, her lips on your breasts. you were grinding down against her, looking for some kind of friction, relief.

“wasn’t the other girls enough?” you teased her, although you needed her so bad you were hurting. in answer she pushed down your bra, taking one of your nipples into her mouth as she left a harsh spank on your ass.

“watch your mouth.”

“watch yours. last time it ended on my pussy.”

she scoffed, and now she was pushing your panties aside, fingers meeting the amount of slick that now soaked your cunt. you hissed. “you mean this pussy? the one dripping for me?” all breath got punched out of your lungs when she harshly and suddenly plunged inside two of her fingers, starting to quickly thrust and curl into you, hitting your g spot over and over again. you moaned. “what?” she teasingly asked, looking at the way your mouth hung open and your eyes squeezed shut. “what was that?” she smirked, seeing how easy you became a babbling mess for her. the wet squelches of your pussy filled her ears. you were so tight and so warm inside. “that’s what i thought.” she whispered against your chest, biting and sucking one of your nipples.

“oh fuck abby.” you cried out. you were already so fucking close it was embarrassing, hips thrusting against her fingers so they could reach deeper.

“this is my pussy, not yours. you hear? mine.” she growled, and you moaned. “say it. tell me it’s mine.”

“it’s yours, abby. yours. fuck!”

she cooed. “look at you. what is it, princess? so obedient… got the brat fucked out of you?” you whimpered, feeling your walls fluttering, your g spot being tortured by her thick fingers. “you’re so close already… so close to cumming all over my fingers, aren’t you baby?” you nodded. “come on, be a good girl and give it to me.” you let out this low moan as you followed her words, soaking her fingers in white strings that made her groan. “that’s it. atta girl…” so warm… she fucked you through it, making you make this little choked out sounds that had her soaking her boxers.

you were a mess, all flushed and droopy fucked eyes with glossy bitten lips, watching as she pulled her fingers out and pushed them inside her mouth, humming at the taste. you pulled from her, kissing her, her tongue letting you get a taste of yourself. she turned the two of you around, and one of your hands palmed her strap, making its back bump against her clit and her groan. you kissed her neck, biting and sucking on her skin. “oh fuck.” she sighed, bucking her hips onto your touch.

“abby, fuck me please…” you tugged from her pants, and she nodded —you didn’t need to ask her twice, she was almost panting at the thought of fucking your pussy on her cock—, kissing you as she quickly got rid of her pants and underwear, the strap already on and low on her hips. it was big, and had a lot of ridges. you almost drooled.

she didn’t wait to align herself with your entrance, lubing the tip of the strap with your cum to push inside. your back arched, the sting of her cock stretching you out inch by inch making you let out this beautiful whimper that had abby feeling dizzy. “fuck. pussy taking my cock so good. i’m gonna shape you to my dick. gonna ruin you for anyone else. you’re mine.” she pulled back, your tight walls sucking her in before she would thrust inside up to the hilt, bruising your cervix.

you screamed her name. she was relentless, groaning as the back of the strap would brush against her throbbing clit, her slick making it easy to glide through her puffy folds. you two looked like animals in heat, your hips fucking against her in need for “more, more, more…”

abby groaned, you were basically fucking yourself on her cock. using her to get off. and fuck if that didn’t turn her on.

she took her phone from her pants, the flash of the camera recording making you hum.

“look at you. riding my dick. desperate little thing…” you moaned. she was pointing the camera exactly to where your cunt stretched around the strap, to the mess you were making of her cock and your thighs due to how fucking wet you were. “i should send this to the whole fucking school. make them know who you belong to, hm?” you moaned, the thought of it turning you on so badly you almost came, nodding.

“yes, abby, fuck…”

she groaned. “tell them. tell them who you belong to.” your back arched at the feeling of a light slap against your clit, making you cry out.

“you! you!”

“that’s fucking right. you’re mine.” her thrust became harsher, the sounds of your cunt engulfing her cock making your thighs shake. it was embarrassing, how much you were enjoying this. how badly you needed her. “fucking mine.” your tits were jumping with every thrust of the snap of her hips, your voice breaking at the feeling of the tip bumping against your g spot over and over and over again…

you were a babbling mess, slurring her name. “abby, abby, abby, abby…”

“what is it, baby? gonna cum? gonna be a good girl and cum for mommy?” she smirked, biting down on her lip at the broken whine you let out. “you like that? like to be mommy’s good girl?” you nodded, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when her fingers found your clit. “then cum. cum for mommy.”

you let out a scream, your high hitting you so hard your ears rung. it seemed to never end. it just got bigger and bigger and bigger as you soaked her cock, your moans getting higher as you rode the best orgasm of your fucking life.

“holy fuck.” she threw away her fucking phone. she wasn’t thinking about sending that video. no fucking way. it was for hers to fuck her cunt when she’d get horny. it was hers. you looked so desperate. no one else could see you like this. she wouldn’t let them.

“mommy…!” you whimpered when her thrust only became harder, her hands gripping your hips in a bruising hold that had you begging it would leave marks. she grunted, feeling her high getting closer as well. “too much! it’s too much!” you cried out. you were so sensitive, coming non stop on her dick, your back arched and nipples swollen due to her sucking. you looked so fucking beautiful it hurt.

“take it.” she growled. “stop being a cry baby and fucking take it.” you gasped when one of her hands pushed down on your stomach, on the bulge her cock made. “can you feel it? feel how deep i’m in, baby? how deep i’m fucking you?” you were crying, it was too much. but at the same time not enough. you babbled her name, pushing on her hips. she manhandled you, choking you down onto the mattress. “stay fucking still.” the lack of oxygen and the feeling of her strong warm hand pressing just the right spots made you fall apart.

“abby, i’m gonna…!” you tried to warn her, but before you could, your thighs were quivering and you were screaming as you squirted all over her thighs and strap, soaking the clothes.

“fuuuuck.” she groaned, looking at you fall apart, cumming over and over and over again. your nails dug on her forearms. “gonna cum, baby. gonna fill you up.” she grunted. “gonna fill this tight little pussy with my cum. gonna leave you dripping for a fucking week.” she was a babbling mess. she was so close. so fucking close. she could feel it growing on her lower stomach, the back of the strap rubbing against her puffy and swollen clit.

you nodded.

“please. please. cum inside. need it inside.” you pleaded, and that’s what made it for her.

abby soaked the back of her strap with a moan, rocking her hips to help the two of you ride your orgasms in between moans and whimpers.

when it finally was over, after what felt like hours. her hips came to a halt, deep inside your cunt. she was panting on your neck, sweat coating your bodies. you two were speechless. fucked out of your minds.

she kissed you. deep and slow. wet. her tongue was warm and lazy into your mouth.

“i meant it.” she muttered against your lips, looking straight into your droopy teary eyes. “you’re mine.”

-

a/n: 🤘🏻

[theealbatross]

a habit to kick, an age old curse (s.s)

Plot | They're no longer friends unfortunately they're still soulmates.

or, you and Sebastian are now strangers but at your most vulnerable moment he picks up the pieces. Only he knows. Only he can.

Tags | angst, heartbreak, when you're too depressed to confess, sebastian and the bad bitch he pulled by being stupid, sebastian is an academic weapon if he wants to, mentions of fire torture, murder (self-defense), trauma, emotional cheating (if u squint), slight fluff as a treat, panic attack, PTSD, Anne is dead, 3k-ish of angst

[A/N: Stream 'i love you, i'm sorry' by gracie for full immersion.]

Quidditch Season was important for every student in Hogwarts but it was the after-parties that everyone was truly looking forward to, house pride aside. 

Which is what exactly Garreth had been barred from. “I can’t believe I wasn’t given an invitation just cause I’m friends with you! I’m not even a Slytherin! And I make the best punches!”

Sebastian rolled his eyes, sighing. Even he didn’t think those pesky Ravenclaws would take their competition this seriously. It all started when he had finally decided to become an auror, after a peaceful, distraction-free year and careful deliberations from each of his professors, he was given the informal encouragement that he was one of the few students who had the potential to become a trainee to such a prestigious program. With his ever-growing physique and indisputable intellect, it would simply be a question of effort.

He just needed to be at the top of all the classes required of him. This was the tragic news for all those Ravenclaw dreams – once Sebastian had his sights on it, it was as good as his.

He hadn’t expected that their ire of him extended to his friends. Even refusing to invite them to the first party of the year that the Ravenclaw had won against the Hufflepuffs. Sebastian had half the mind to join his own House’s quidditch team even with his packed schedule just so he could wipe the floor with them. It would be worth never sleeping again.

“What do you want me to do Gar –”

“Here.”

A piece of paper hung from above him, the hand it was hanging from was connected to a face he hadn’t seen this closely in a long, long time. Even the whisper of her name in his mouth felt foreign – a tragic circumstance when a lifetime ago she had been a kindred soul.

Before he could say anything else, Garreth had already snatched the paper from in-between his eyes. “Is this – Really?!”

“The password for today’s party, try to sneak in when the ‘guards’ are smashed,” she grinned at the redhead. Then, Sebastian felt a cold blade slice through his chest (a hand suspiciously touching the spot just to check) when she looked back down at him again. “For old time’s sake.”

It took him a moment too long to realize she was talking to him too. But his tongue felt heavy and stuck, the metaphorical rug under his feet getting pulled out when he least expected it.

He nodded.

“See you around.”

He stared as she waltzes gracefully from the bustling crowd, getting roped into a hug by her boyfriend, William Frey, the bloody captain of the Ravenclaws. When he had heard about it, he couldn’t quite point out why he hated his smug, pretty face but then, using his blessed brain he got his bitter answer: they were too damn perfect together.

He was everything she deserved.

Smart, popular, kind, and comes from a good family that will be able to support her in whatever endeavors she might be up to in the future.

Not an orphaned criminal who couldn’t even save her sister.

The state of their friendship – or lack thereof – was pitiful but he knew it was for the better. Without each other in the way she can be loved by all those around her – something he has never been able to offer with his murky history that left a rubble of a man. And without her he can forget about his failures and mistakes, distract himself with as much schoolwork as he can cram in his head and never remember the times he sacrificed their friendship for his own gain only to lose it all anyways.

If he doesn’t see her then he can forget – he failed and his twin sister is dead.

A brilliant witch with a brilliant future didn’t deserve to be associated with failures.

“That was tense,” William whispered in your ears as he led you towards the courtyard. “A friend of yours?”

A flash of the lives you’ve lived with the Slytherin flashed before your eyes. Friends, what a lowly name.

You faked a smile, fighting every urge in your body to look back.

“A long time ago.”

The party was loud, no doubt the quidditch players were milking any taste of victory they have before they deal with whoever wins between the Slytherins and Gryffindor’s next week.

The music was loud, nearly pounding through the silencing charms in the walls of the common room. William at the thick in all of it, celebrating with his teammates, not forgetting to wave at you in your seat with that charming smile that usually makes you swoon.

However, it was the charmed fireworks all over the ceiling that had your heart exploding out of your chest. Flashes of nightmares at every pop.

The dark forest, the ruined castle, the ropes in your stretched out hands as Rookwoods men threw all sort of fiery spells at you as target practice.

You pinched your eyes shut, shaking your head, trying to focus on breathing.

When you were starting to get dizzy you knew it wasn’t working. You tried to push through the crowd, reach your boyfriend somehow and at least let him know what was going on but it was impossible. It was the peak of the party when everyone was too drunk to do anything but drink more and dance more. With a shuddering breath, you instead skirted around the crowd and escaped narrowly through the doors of the Ravenclaw common room.

Not even bothering with a disillusionment spell, knowing damn well all the prefects would be in the party, you ran to the nearest floo to travel to your common room.

However, even the silence and comfort of the top of the common room wasn’t enough to ground you as you stumbled straight down the cold tiles, a yelp escaping your mouth from the sting of your skin.

“Someone there?”

That voice, distant but familiar. Painfully familiar. Your eyes continue to blur as your breath hastened, your limbs too weak, and the cold floor too damn comfortable for your overheating body.

“Are you alright?” He’s closer now, at the bottom of the stairs.

No, no, no.

In your desperation, you swallowed your pride. Forgetting in the moment how humiliated you will be to be seen by the last person in your house you wanted to show this side of you.

He would take care of you.

He always takes care of you.

“Sebastian,” you could barely croak out in between your gasps. Silence followed and you whimpered, crawling down to the edge of the top of the stairs when you heard fast footsteps ascending and there he was.

“Fucking hell, what happened to you?!”

Before you could try to say anything else you were already carried in his arms, Sebastian’s panic at seeing someone that was always so shiny and untouchable on a daily basis gasping and writhing in their common room floor was something he had not prepared himself to see tonight.

He thought the worst would be drunk seniors he would have to haul up their rooms not his … not you.

Carefully, he placed you on the nearest couch, your grip in his arms painful but welcome as it grounded him and prevented him from rattling when he saw your pale face covered with sweat and tears.

“Pet, you gotta help me here, what’s going on?! What do you need?!”

His eyes plotted your face, firm hands frantically running across your body to check for any stain of blood or hints of the source of your pain. It was agonizingly intimate, especially with the knowledge of how much this has happened in the past – one of you writhing in pain, the other doing their darndest to fix it.

A shot of pain pierced your chest when you suddenly breathed in, making you cry out and crawl into his arms.

Your calming medicine – it was in your bedside table. However, it was no use, like blood was not reaching your brain and all you know to do is to just hold on to Sebastian.

“Fuck!”

In a blink, your face was buried in Sebastian’s neck, the entirety of your curled up body tightly held together by him as he sat you in his lap, arms wrapped protectively around your body. “Breathe with me,” he whispers, taking deep slow puffs and caressing your hair. “That’s it, deep breathes. Follow me, darling. Enough with your crying now, listen to my voice.”

In. Out. The clean scent of the common room, faint sweet smell of his favorite tea.

In. Out. The sweat on his skin, the cologne he had worn since the first day you met him.

In. Out. Old books, fresh parchment, thick ink, and the throbbing aroma of the Amortentia you brewed last week.

“Hey,” you could feel the sweat start to cool your skin, his rough hand worked on your cheeks as he continued to cradle you in his arms. His body relaxing with yours until you could take up air on your own. “What hap –”

“What in Merlin’s … did you do this?”

You stared up in wonder, the two of you surrounded by a large bubble, the ones you usually see when you throw a Protego, except this one continued to enclose you. Now that your panic has passed you realize you can’t hear anything else but … the sound of water?

He looked shy, rubbing the back of his neck as he settled you back on the couch. It was only then you realized that you had been in his lap this entire time. You hoped the dim light of the common room hid the embarrassment in your face.  “It’s … something I’ve made. Helps me sleep at night. What you’re hearing is the sounds under the Black Lake. I’m gonna write a paper on it for Ronen, should get me a couple of points.”

Ah, his valiant academic conflict with the Ravenclaws did not escape even you. They’re going to fucking curse him in their sleep when they realize he was a lap ahead of his competition.

Now that your vision wasn’t doubling you could faintly see a golden string that connected from the bubble, straight through the tall glass window of the common room. “Sebastian, this is brilliant.”

A flare of nervousness lodged in your chest when Sebastian suddenly looked at you– the gaze that let you know that he could see right through you. He always saw right through you – you’d grown to hate it.

“We don’t have to talk about it.”

He was a gentleman – always had been. It could be the fact that he had (has? is it too soon?) a sister that he was so well-versed in the heart of a lady. But aside from that – Sebastian, at some point in time, was someone who knew the most. And the gods’ honest truth is you never could hide a secret from him.

It could be the alcohol in your system or the buried instinctive nature to tell him everything back when the two of you spent late nights in the Room of Requirement and talked about everything being unearthed but you felt like being honest. Even if the boy beside you had grown into a stranger.

“I’m … remember when I got kidnapped by … and you …”

And you saved me.

Again. Always.

He was there, charging headfirst, ignoring Professor Fig’s warnings and Ominis’ pleas to wait for the Aurors in Hogsmeade. When he arrived, he saw the burn marks, bruises, and wounds all over your body and just saw red … and left red. 

“The Rookwood incident?”

By the time back up had arrived the two of you were slumped on each other and surrounded by corpses, eyes blank and suspicious, desperately holding on to each other.

“The Rookwood incident,” you nodded. “What I didn’t tell you is that before you had arrived, they had been … they tied me and threw fire spells at me, that’s where I got my wounds. I never told you because –”

He was too angry. And you were too terrified of pushing your closest friend to the darkness he had been tethering on. Not that it mattered, he fell right to that cliff on his own.

“I’m sorry.”

Your eyes widened, hands shaking in front of you. “No, Seb, it’s not like tha –”

“I know you were trying to protect me. You always were,” he shook his head, now it was him who couldn’t look at you. “How many scars did I give you?”

“I healed just fine –”

“Then let me rephrase my question, “ This time, the look in his eyes terrified you. The intensity, the guilt – it was so palpable you almost want to cup his face the way you used to, to ease his cruel burden. “How many of these nightmares have I cursed you with?”

Your silence made his bitter smile grow. You don’t have to say it because he (always) knows – the worst nightmares were the ones with him in it.

“Does … does he know about it?”

You nodded, “He does. William tried to help, sent me to the best mind doctors last summer but … I’m just so tired. I’m tired of the tests, the probing in my brain – he means well, I know he does but there’s nothing those strangers can tell me that I don’t already know.”

With an understanding expression on his face, the two of you sat in silence, staring at the large windows hovering over the two of you as the deep quiet of the lake echoed in the fragile haven he had conjured up. If you close your eyes, if you forget about everything else, you could almost trick you mind that these was one of those good times.

That you’d turn and find him buried in between towers of books you had borrowed from the library and Ominis would be sleeping against the wall of the Undercroft. And then you’d catch his eyes and he would smile – a silent message between two people who didn’t need to speak to communicate – and the silence would stretch, just like this, but you would be together again.

“I could teach you.”

You raised an eyebrow and despite himself he chuckled. He didn’t have the best history with teaching you spells, after all. “This charm, I mean.”

How many cures has been shoved in your throat? How many disappointments you hid in lies that, yes the Calming Elixir cures me of such flaws. Did you need any more help? Would it fix you this time?

“It won’t fix anything but it might ..” he shrugged. “… make tomorrow easier.”

You’re terrified of him, you realize. How can someone know you so deeply without ever even realizing it? Does he know? The power he has over you? How you would’ve burned your life to the ground if he had asked for it?

Ask, you wanted to scream. Ask. Ask. Ask.

“Alright,” He seemed surprised, you smiled at the face he made. “Couldn’t hurt.”

For all his nonchalance it was a complicated charm to cast. “No, it has to be more than half a circle when you swish it –”

This was familiar. A bit more awkward and with a lot more strain but it was familiar – if all had gone well this would have been just an unremarkable day in your life. You can’t help but wonder if your burden would be lighter if he was the one helping you carry it.

You swallowed your thoughts back down, no sense in dreaming of different realities now. Because this was your life and the worst thing that could possibly happen did happen. So, you’ll take all that you can get – even if it’s just one last night pretending everything didn’t slip out of your hands.

“No, here, let me guide you,” When Sebastian was in his ‘professor mode’ as you and Ominis used to tease him for, he gets so focused on teaching that he doesn’t notice anything else, doesn’t even notice your gasp as he wrapped an arm around your back, grasping the hand with your wand and helping you trace the shape needed to cast the spell. “And the word is ‘Salus.”

Salus. Safety. Salvation.

That’s who he was. Your Sebastian. “Salus.”

On cue, a bubble surrounded the two of you once again, the white noise of the castle replaced by the deep lake’s groans. “Perfect.”

Despite the time you spend learning all sorts of complicated magic, it never takes away the quick flutter of your chest in excitement at every spell you master. “I did it!” You turned to be Sebastian but he was already looking at you.

You’ve always told him if you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought Sebastian was the true heir of Slytherin. He just fits here – in the dim lights, and emerald furniture, and the coldness that emphasizes just how warm he is. “… beautiful.”

“What?” He was staring, his hooded gaze, the freckles you had always wanted to trace into constellations, the part on his lips that teases your skin with his breath.

“Your technique is beautiful.” He’s lying, you don’t catch it. Suddenly, your half-pinned hair fell apart, Sebastian having pulled away the clip holding it away from your face. “Now, lay down.”

His arms were gentle and firm as they guided you to lay across the wide couch, Sebastian having scooted down to sit on the floor, face in front of yours. He’s so close. “Sleep.”

You hope he knows, that if your sleep remains dreamless tonight and if your tomorrow is easier, it’s not because of his painfully complicated spell. Your eyes waver, the edges of your sight dimming and blurring. You feel a touch on your cheek, you try to chase it. The last thing you see is his deep brown eyes and the soft smile that had been the biggest curse he had unknowingly laid on you.

He has to know, right?

You have to tell him.

Sebastian, I’ve always – I still – I never stop –

“Hey, wake up.”

Your eyes split open, another ghost of your past in front of you. “Ominis?”

The noise slowly trickled as you became more aware, eyes shifting to you, some out of curiosity why you picked the couch as a resting place instead of your bedroom a few feet away or some that saw you in the party that held some pity, probably thinking you’re suffering the worst hangover of your life.

“William Frey is looking for you by the door,” he muttered sharply. It’s been a while since you and Ominis interacted, his tattered friendship with Sebastian extending to your own as the boy’s most loyal comrade in his pursuit of destruction. You know he lays a blame you and for that you couldn’t blame him. “Honestly, I had thought you had grown out of your foolish habit of sleeping everywhere.”

“I-I’m … sorry?”

He shook his head before turning to leave.

Had … had everything been a dream?

You looked around suspiciously, for what you weren’t quite sure. A sign? A pillow out of place that could be evidence that last night happened?

It wasn’t mere delusion, you were sure. The knowledge of the spell in your head evidence enough of the small moment you shared with an old friend last night but it would be nice to have some sort of proof. A tangible confirmation that you could keep with you as you return to your reality.

With a sigh you let your disappointment fester for a second longer, locking last night in the deepest part of your heart, one that can only be unearthed once again in your loneliest nights.

A practiced smile cements on your face, turning to the chair one last time to allow yourself one more moment of hesitation before going up the stairs.

Back to the beautiful boy who will only see the beautiful parts of you and leaving the one who gets the honor of keeping the shadows.

Inside the boy’s dormitory Sebastian stares at the stolen emerald clip on his bedside table.

[darkeralmond]

Can you do a william Smith smut when they get home from his draft. Pls I haven't seen any writing pieces for him and he's so cute.

Ps. I love your writing pieces

THANK U SM FOR THE REQUEST ILYSM ❤️❤️❤️

All Night

Will Smith x fem! Reader

synopsis: it’s draft night and you attend the draft with will and his family, but while there will’s drooling over your body. when he gets drafted, you tell him you have a reward for him in your guys’ hotel room

warnings: 18+, smut, swearing, oral (m! recieving)

word count: 1.2k

a/n: HEY GUYS!! i wanna get back to writing smuts and imagines so i saw one of my old requests and thought i would write it. also i am so excited to see macklin and will play tg!! enjoy i love u guys sm ❤️❤️

It was the night Will had been waiting for his entire hockey career. It was NHL draft night, and he was determined to go in the first round. As his long time girlfriend, he really wanted to take you to Nashville with him and his family to cherish the moment with you.

While entering Bridgestone Arena, there were media teams all over the place capturing all the young prospects. Players such as Connor Bedard, Adam Fantilli, and Oliver Moore who were just as glorified by the press as your boyfriend.

Photographers were snapping pictures of Will, ESPN commentators were interviewing him, and all you could do was step back and watch like an outsider.

After escaping the media frenzy by entering Bridgestone, he pulled you close to him and whispered, “You doing good?”

“Yeah, it’s just really crowded,” you answered. Fancy events made you anxious, so being at a nationally televised event with your super popular boyfriend was super overwhelming.

“Well, you look beautiful,” he teased before kissing your temple. His grip around you grew tighter as he stared at your chest which was slightly exposed with your v-neck dress, causing him to lick his lips. He then turned to his parents and said, “Hey, I’m gonna take Y/N the bathrooms so she doesn’t get lost. We’ll meet you guys in there.”

“Sounds good, just be at the table by 5:30,” his mom advised before heading down to their reserved spots. Will moved his hand from your waist to your hand before guiding you away from the crowd of people.

“Will, what are you doing?” you asked as he pushed through the crowd to a more secluded area. He spun to face you before kissing you deeply. You returned the action by moving your hands up to the sides of his neck. He ran his hands down your back and groped your ass.

You gasped before pulling away. “Will! Not here!” You meant for it to come out as stern, but you couldn’t help but giggle.

“Fuck. Why did you wear such a revealing dress?” he whined as he stared at your chest. “You know I can barely control myself around you. This is torture!”

You pecked a kiss on his cheek before saying, “You’ll have all this to yourself when we get back to the hotel. Remember, your parents got us our own room.”

He groaned again. “That’s hours from now!”

“Looks like you’ll just have to wait,” you teased as you winked at him. “Now come on, your mom will kill you if you’re late.”

The draft started shortly after that, and you held onto his hand as you and everyone else anxiously waited for his name to be called. Will ended up getting drafted to the San Jose sharks as the 4th overall pick, and he was over the moon. When they announced his name, the cameras panned onto him as everyone erupted into applause and cheers. Will let go of your hand as he and everyone at the table stood up, clapping and embracing him.

Will finally got to you as he grinned from ear to war and pulled you into a tight hug, burying his face in your neck. Your eyes rimmed with tears as the two of you held onto each other. You placed a kiss on his cheek and whispered into his ear, “Looks like I need to award you with a blow job in the hotel room.”

Now he was smiling even harder with his face red as he walked up to the stage to accept his hat and jersey. When he came back to his seat, he leaned into your ear and whispered, “Thank God they couldn’t see how hard I am just now.”

…

The first round of the draft took hours to complete due to the amount of prospects, so when it concluded his parents complained about how exhausted they were. Not you and Will though. You guys would’ve gone straight to sleep when you got to your room, but you both were really horny and ready to celebrate.

When you made it back to the hotel, his dad gave Will a keycard to the room. “Here’s a keycard for you guys to share. Your mom and I are gonna keep this one to check in on you so don’t be getting into trouble. I’ll see you two in the morning,” his dad said before heading down the hall to the hotel room for him and his mom.

“Good night!” Will yelled out to his parents before looking down at me, holding up his key card. “Looks I have you for the night.”

You ushered him by saying, “Hurry up! I’ve been waiting for this all night!” He scanned the card and the door unlocked.

Before you even made it in the room, his hands were all over you. His lips were all over yours, and he was kissing you like your life depended on it. You could barely even breathe as his tongue brushed across your lower lip before he opened his mouth and licked your top lip with fervor.

You broke the kiss so you could breathe. “I need this off you now,” you said as you unbuttoned his jacket and shirt and he shrugged them both off, letting it fall to the floor. “You ready for your celebration?”

He ecstatically nodded his head causing you to grin as you tugged off his pants. His boxers were black, very tight and covered in little white hearts. In your opinion his boxers had every right to be tight, he knew what was coming.

With his boxers gone and his obvious erection, you got down on your knees in front of him and stroked his tip with your tongue.

Will moaned softly causing chills to run down your spine. Your hands traveled up his dick, firmly grasping at the base. You kissed the tip and then slowly lowered your mouth to take half of him in your mouth. Multitasking, your other hand massaged stroked slowly.

He groaned in bliss as his hands held onto your hair. “That feels good, yeah?” you asked after pulling away, continuing to stroke his dick with your hand. He moaned again, louder than before, as confirmation. Your stomach flipped in excitement and you smiled wickedly.

“You look so fucking beautiful, baby,” he praised. You didn’t respond with words, you only let out a soft hum in amusement as you took his dick in your mouth again.

He thrashed his hips forward in order to go deeper down your throat. This caused you to slightly choke as a mix of saliva and his pre-cum escaped your mouth. “God, I wanna be inside you…” he whispered quietly.

You pulled away again and made eye contact with him, still jacking him off. “Oh, sweetheart,” you purred. “This is only the beginning.”

As he grew closer to finishing, your head bobbed up and down fast as your sucking became harder. He kept moaning your name louder and louder like an addiction that no drug could replace.

It only took him a minute to finish before he shot a load in your mouth. When you swallowed it, he groaned. “Wow… wow, that was amazing,” he rasped breathlessly.

“You still have my body to get through, you know?” you replied as you wiped the residue off your face with the back of your hand. “You said you wanted to be inside me, right?”

[entitled-fangirl]

Four days of hell.

Duncan Visla x Swedish!reader

Summary: Duncan curses Blut for involving his neighbor in the man's schemes.

Warnings: torture, blood, inappropriate comments, cursing, name-calling, shooting, idk just Duncan Visla things.

Author's note: I thought it was spelled Vizla, but the closed captions said Visla. Idk. Either way, I guess.

Masterlist

...........................................................

Duncan was enraged.

Here he was, held up by chains like an animal, awaiting his fate at the hands of Mr. Blut.

And they had taken her in the process.

Y/N.

Mr. Blut walked through the doors, the light revealing little but the bright red of his suit. And behind him was Y/N.

She had a collar wrapped around her neck, the leash being held by the man.

Duncan was ready do make him regret the day he was born.

Mr. Blut handed the leash off to one of the guards who ties it to a nearby pole.

"You hurt me, Mr. Visla. And that cannot be repaid with a swift, impersonal death."

He slowly takes off his jacket as he speaks, replacing it with a transparent apron.

"When the English caught the traitor William Wallace, they dragged him naked through the street for six miles so that peasants could smear their warm, fresh piss and shit on him…"

Duncan didn't even bother paying attention to the man, his eyes resting solely on the girl, as if his gaze would be enough to unlock the chains on the two of them.

The old man remembers the day she came into his life. He has been out splitting logs when he heard a noise coming from around the house next door.

Y/N had fallen outside in the snow, and now sat in it, half embarrassed, half amused.

Although Duncan hadn't noticed the fall, he saw the girl immediately and found himself walking in her direction.

The girl, as it had turned out, had just moved from Sweden, and was trying her luck at a life in America.

Duncan thought her foolish for picking Montana of all places, but he would never say that to her.

In the fall, she had scratched her leg, and hadn't noticed the red seeping into the snow. So, Duncan helped the poor girl into the house. 

And that was eight months ago.

He had grown too fond of the girl since then and he now was cursing himself for it.

"…because the traitor had hurt the king."

Duncan snapped away from his thoughts and back to the situation in front of him. He was dripping sweat as his eyes glared at the man.

"…I guess Wallace hurt England pretty bad," Mr. Blut leaned in towards Duncan, "YOU hurt ME pretty bad, Mr. Visla. I have four days before I have to kill you. Four days of HELL! And on your birthday….

…you die."

Y/N had sat against the pole she was tied to, her eyes focused on Duncan's face. She had never seen the older man like this: focused, angry, and unforgiving. It was a scary sight for her.

But beyond that, she focused on the man in the red suit's words. She was struggling learning all of the English words, and lots of them she had missed just then. But the ones she did catch were the most important ones. 

Something about his birthday and hell and dying.

She continued to watch her neighbor closely. So much so, that she didn't notice the other man shift his gaze to her.

Mr. Blut gave a sick smile as he turned back to Duncan, "I'm going to have a little fun with your lady. And you're gonna watch."

She didn't quite understand what he meant, but she saw Duncan's eyes narrow just slightly.

He held a picture up to Duncan of the girl that was taken earlier, her body in a kneeling position and the man's hand gripped her jaw, his thumb in her mouth. She looked scared and confused in it, and Duncan was ready to murder.

Mr. Blut held up a knife, stabbing the picture into Duncan's chest. 

Duncan let out a groan.

Y/N pushed herself forward slightly, her eyes wide in shock. A small shriek left her lips but she covered it with her mouth.

Mr. Blut moved to his instruments of torture, "So I've given it some thought, and I've decided that we're gonna start…" he held up a small snipping tool, "…with these. Music please."

The man proceeded to cut Duncan's skin to the sound of the bagpipes. 

The sounds of Duncan's wails and cries becoming too much for the girl. She backed herself up against the pole, covering her ears and shutting her eyes tightly.

After what felt like hours, he finally stopped his torture. He pulled the knife from Duncan's body, taking the picture with him. 

"The fun continues tomorrow, Mr. Visla."

He untied Y/N, dragging her out of the room with him.

The door closed, the lights shut off, and Duncan's chains were given slack, making the exhausted man fall to the ground in a slump.

…

The pattern continued for the next three days. The endless torturing, the pained cries, the blood, and the crying girl in the corner.

By the third day, Duncan was entirely disoriented, his eyes not moving as fast as he wanted them to. His body wasn't listening to his brain and he was dying of blood loss.

Mid-torture, Blut's knife broke in Duncan's torso. He cursed at the man, and held up the remaining part of the blade. "You broke my favorite knife."

But Duncan wasn't responding. He could barely keep his eyes open. 

Blut got in his face, "I said, you've broken my favorite— hello?"

He cut at Duncan's cheek to try to get a reaction, but none came.

"I'm obviously not getting through to you, am I?"

And with that, he stabbed the broken blade into Duncan's eye.

Duncan screamed, the deep vibrato echoing in the room.

Y/N let out a shriek, her voice finally coming through. "Sluta! Sluta såra honom!" 

Blut looked over his shoulder, taking the blade from Duncan's eye. He looks back, pulling Duncan's face up by his hair. "The fun continues tomorrow, Mr. Visla."

As he walked back towards the door, he stopped by the girl. He leaned close.

The girl was panting now, her voice now turning soft compared to the shriek she had given earlier, "p…please."

The man kicked at her legs in anger. "You'll learn to shut your fucking mouth, you little whore."

She retreated slightly, her eyes wide.

Blut turned back towards Duncan. "And for your birthday present, Mr. Visla… you get to keep your whore tonight."

And then he left.

…

The silence continued in the space for longer than she would have liked.

Duncan could barely keep his eyes open.

"D…Duncan?"

He let out a groan of recognition at the sound of her voice.

"What did… what were the words he said… about me? I tried to follow but I… it was too fast."

A light hum from the man and a strained, "…No."

She nodded, understanding to keep to herself. 

"Sleep…"

She turned her head to Duncan. "W…what?"

"…sleep."

A nod, and she leaned back against the pillar, letting herself fall asleep.

…

The next day, Y/N awoke to the sound of gunshots. She jumped, her head swiveling to Duncan.

She watched as Duncan fought off the guards. She was unfamiliar with the sound of bones snapping until that day.

She hid as much as she could to avoid the bullets that flew across the room. Duncan stood straight when it was done, his mind now focused, and his body responsive like never before.

He took heavy steps to the girl who now was looking up at him with an unreadable expression.

When he neared her, he took the piece of broken blade in his hand, and stared at the collar, as if asking for permission to touch.

When she nodded, he stood in front of her now, her head tilted up from her place of the ground to look at the ex-assassin.

His fingers lightly ghosted over the scratch on his cheek, his eyes studying it closely.

She let him, unsure of what it was he was doing.

Finally when he deemed her alright physically, he knelt down face-to-face with her, his hand fidgeting with the collar's lock until it opened.

He threw it from her frame, his eyes now ghosting over the bruises that laid under the collar.

He took deep breaths.

"Did he touch you?"

She tilted her head slightly in confusion.

He sighed, "Did he… hurt you in other ways?"

She slowly shook her head.

He left out the biggest sigh of relief. "You're gonna follow me. And you're going to do everything I say without hesitation."

He grabbed her arm, pulling her up with him.

When he hurt more guards climbing the stairs, he pushed up under a table. "Stay there."

He then shot the light box, making the building lose power.

The guards came in slowly and on edge, their flashlights being their only source of light.

Duncan managed to take them out one by one.

When they had been cleared from the room and the outer room, he whistled lowly and the girl slowly emerged, following him down the stairs.

He checked around each corner carefully before leading her through. Once they entered the underground tunnel, he took the fire extinguisher off the wall. "Cover your ears and stay right there."

He threw the extinguisher around the corner and shot it, making the guards both with ringing ears and blind eyes.

After a lot of shooting, she heard his whistle again and moved to follow.

She stepped close to him then felt a hand wrap around her throat from behind, a gun now pointed at her temple.

"Don't move, Visla."

Duncan cursed under his breath and turned around slowly, his calculating eyes taking in the sight, "Give me the girl."

The guard pushed against the girl's already bruised windpipe. "I said don't move."

"Christ…"

The man was shot before Y/N even processed that Duncan had moved.

She felt his body crumple to the ground, his voice pleading.

Duncan stepped to them slowly, taking the man's shirt in his grip. He punched the man harshly.

And again.

And again.

And she let him.

After about six punches, Duncan fell to the ground in exhaustion. 

She knelt down beside him with a gently hand on his upper back.

He finally stood up with her help, and they slowly walked out of their seemingly endless enclosure. 

He pulled her to him, placing a gentle kiss at her temple.

Duncan held her close, and she let him. The blood seeping into her clothes didn't bother her at all.

.......................................................

Part 2 would be cute :)))

[gh0st-author]

dress.

pairing: William James Moriarty x reader summary: Oh, tempting William was so deliciously amusing for you to do. To kindle the flame you knew was dancing behind his eyes, to fuel it in its confines and observe him attempting to conceal it and thaw it out.

tags: fluff, very suggestive (nothing explicit but it is heated)

warnings: as i said it is very suggestive, they also unalive a nobleman

A/N: so this wasn't originally meant to be posted, it was just something in my drafts, but since it happened to be William's birthday today i thought i might as well finish it. so happy birthday Liam here's your cake

Another glance in his direction, across the crowded hall. Another hidden smile from him. You knew you shouldn't; this game you were playing was too perilous, too dangerous. You weren't supposed to goad William like this. But you simply couldn't resist. Usually, you or Albert were the ones who found themselves at these events, because as the oldest brother he had too keep up the appearances most often, but this night was different. Tonight, William was present as well. He was right beside his brother, a picture-perfect gentleman, charming and captivating. It was an incredibly rare occurrence as he preferred to work behind the scenes, not really drawing attention to himself more than necessary. And unlucky for you, all your attention happened to be on him tonight, despite the risk of it endangering the mission. But it was too addicting. The music too sensual. The candlelight too dim. The perfumes too intoxicating. And the game you presented him with too enjoyable. Another taste of your wine. Another brush of his gaze. You needed to make sure that no one was the wiser to the desperation building beneath your skin. You were dancing around an open flame, stretching out your body above it, hoping to not get incarcerated by the proximity. Still, you couldn't be blamed, it was so rare for you to see your lover adorned so dashingly.

It was all subtle. Your glass against your lips. Your tongue lightly catching the droplets soaking them. His intense glance catching the act. And it was fun, so incredibly amusing to for once toy with him like this given the chance, to slowly gnaw away at his immaculate control that he prided himself on so and wore like a mask. You still remembered the words you whispered to him in the darkness of your bedroom earlier today, the memory of them flashing through your mind making your lips stretch into a devious grin. This is a secret, but my gown for tonight... it was bought specifically with you in mind. Much more than wearing it, I am anticipating what you will do with it later tonight after we return. You could still feel the tremble that raced down William's spine, could still hear his low, tortured groan and uneven whisper of: Do not tempt me, darling. Being aware of the effect you had on your lover and feeling the desire simmering between you too was heady, to say the least.

Alas, no matter how much you wanted to give into your desires, you were a performer, both for him and for the Lord you were tasked with distracting tonight. And a performer had to play her role outstandingly. Your secret moments and glances would have to stay just that— secret. For no one could know you were affiliated with him. You were just another face in the crowd, an unassuming bejeweled rose without thorns. These glimmering banquets were your battlefield, your wit and your charm your weapons, which you brandished flawlessly with every new job you were assigned by the brothers. Meeting William and working with him only served to hone them more— a simple touch here, a sweet whisper there, and your targets were putty under your fingers, ready to follow you wherever you wished. Which usually happened to be their untimely but deserved demise at the hands of you or one of the others from the group. And for as long as they and William had any use of you, you would continue to play your part in their plans without a fault.

Deciding against continuing this game between you two for now, you downed your glass and set out to find your target— Lord Brownlow. He was a local aristocrat rumored to kidnap young ladies from such events and traffic them on the black market. In other words, a perfect target to be bewitched and disposed of by you. After a quick search, you found him, surrounded by numerous important individuals. Even from where you were standing you could see his false smiles and his calculating glances to the women around him. Your act already in place, you sauntered over to him, gown swaying with your movements, your practiced smile of awe and admiration plastered on your face. "Lord Brownlow, a pleasure to meet you."

You were a novelty, a new interesting toy for him to play with. The conversation flowed from your lips effortlessly, each word a careful trap meant to ensnare the Lord's attention, to keep him guessing and wanting more. Each move a thought-out maneuver to entice him and cloud his judgment. You listened to his stories attentively, smiled and nodded when expected, and stroked his ego when he so wished. And what an ego he had. He was so filled to the brim with his own self-importance that he steered you around forcing you into a conversation with any noble he could, no doubt to brag about his own status and to show off how well off he was. Still, you participated beautifully, never letting your true nature show.

After who knows what number of nobles, he turned to you, still keen on continuing. "Do you mind if I introduce you to another one of my acquaintances?

You smiled at him mindlessly, feigned admiration painted across your features. As if you were truly interested in anything he had to say, hanging onto his every word. "None at all, Lord Brownlow. Please, lead the way."

Pleased with your apparent high regard for him and your respect, he hurriedly led you through the throngs of people, seeking out the aforementioned noble. Your gaze darted around, attempting to pinpoint the person in question. Only when his gait hastened with renewed purpose, having found who he was searching for, did you manage to catch a glimpse of the man that had caught his eye.

And...

Oh, well, who would've thought? It seemed that tonight was indeed your lucky night, for he was leading you straight to the object of your obsession tonight. You briefly considered the possibility of William having arranged this beforehand, but the look of delighted surprise on his face as you and the Lord neared him convinced you otherwise. So, a lucky coincidence it seemed. Or a fate-given opportunity? No, of course not. Even though it might not have been planned for him and the Lord to converse like this, it was far from a coincidence. You knew William and him were acquainted, but by the genuine eagerness with which Lord Brownlow was leading you to him, it seemed as if William took the phrase 'keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer' quite literally. Always aligning and governing his pawns, that cunning mind of his.

The Lord halted right in front of him, proudly puffing out his chest. No doubt, hoping to impress you with his arsenal of connections— with his importance. "This is Lord William Moriarty. Second son of the deceased Earl Moriarty. We met a short while ago and happened to become quite familiar with each other."

William turned to regard you fully, his scarlet gaze bright but betraying nothing. As you stood before him like this, you felt weirdly exposed, despite the opulent gown— or maybe exactly because of it. You arrived separately so as to not raise any suspicion so he didn't have the chance to admire you from up close. His face was a perfect polite mask, but you knew he was drinking up your visage like a man starved. Everywhere his gaze touched burned so pleasurably you never wished for it to stop. In fact, all of this silence and patience, waiting and pining in anticipation, made you more eager— made you crave more. You wanted him to trace wherever he looked with his hands, his lips. Your own hands were shaking from holding back from touching him.

Acting like the perfect pawn you were, you buried your need deep beneath your vast experience in lying and deceit, using it as a cover to dampen the inferno in you, and held out your hand courteously for him to kiss. Not a trace of a woman currently longing, yearning, craving. "I don't believe we have been acquainted, Lord Moriarty."

Never taking his eyes off yours, he raised your hand to his lips, leaving it there much longer than necessary. The kiss was almost a promise— or a threat. You weren't sure which. "Indeed we are not, I would have remembered a woman as stunning as you are."

You fought your instinctive pull to draw closer to him, to see just how close you could slot your body against his. To get lost in his knowing gaze. Instead, you chose to slowly pull your hand away and giggle behind it. "Oh, you flatter me, my Lord. I am sure someone of your caliber has ample choice of ladies aiming for your attention."

The smile he gave you was pure serpentine curling of the lips, the look in his eyes pure hunter regarding his prey. "I assure you, my attentions lay elsewhere."

My attention is only on you, his look seemed to say. Your heart stuttered in your chest, beating so loud you were afraid he and Lord Brownlow could hear it. So careful. They had to be so incredibly careful. They were threading a fine line, one misstep and it could all come crashing down around them.

"His attention is only always focused on his work, he never entertains the women around him." Lord Brownlow sighed, seemingly unaware of the building tension between you and William. A perfect figure of an older gentleman concerned for the youth, as if he was giving sound advice out of genuine benevolence. "Honestly, Lord Moriarty, you should follow your older brother's example. Now, Lord Albert knows how to entertain a lady. It's not a good idea for a noble gentleman such as yourself to always keep his head in the books."

William diverted his attention from you to the Lord, chuckling gently as if this entire meeting was just a pleasant interaction. A born noble navigating the labyrinth of high society magnificently. The irony was not lost on you. "I will keep your words in mind, Lord Brownlow."

It was getting harder and harder to keep focused with him so close, yet thoroughly out of reach. It was due time for you to leave and initiate the next phase of the plan. Deciding that one last stunt was in order, you grabbed your target's hand, feigning interest in him, but you were only looking at the man in front of you. "Lord Brownlow, I am sure Lord Moriarty knows how to entertain himself. What do you say we make our way to the dance floor." You ran your hand down the front of your dress as if showing it off, but in truth, you drew attention to the way the corset hugged your curves. "After all, I just bought this dress today, it would be a shame for me to wear it and not be seen dancing in it."

It was a momentary weakness, a flash of that fire in his eyes gone instantaneously, almost as fast as it appeared. Oh, he looked so composed yet his self-control was frying at the edges, unraveling thread by thread with each passing moment. He, too, played his role of a respectable noble magnificently, only the slight sharpening of his gaze and an almost imperceptible sly curling of his lips betraying his rapidly waning restraint.

You offered him your most innocent smile. "Please excuse us, Lord Moriarty." Your words were the sweetest nectar, a saccharine phrase dipped in venom. Another one of your baits successfully eaten, another one of your hooks digging into flesh. You suppressed your giggle as you gave a parting bow and pivoted to twine through the dense crowd with Lord Brownlow, embracing him and slotting yourself into a waltzing position. Oh, tempting William was so deliciously amusing for you to do. To kindle the flame you knew was dancing behind his eyes, to fuel it in its confines and observe him attempting to conceal it and thaw it out. Once again, this game you were playing was dangerous, but you were addicted to the thrill, and you suspected he was as well if the looks he was throwing your way as you glided around the room were any indication.

You felt his eyes on you even as you danced, gossamer and silk flowing around you in mesmerizing patterns. Even as you coyly slipped the slow-acting poison in the Lord's drink while no one was looking. Even as you silently snuck out of the room, vanishing as a phantom, before it took effect. You wouldn't be present when it all happened. A ghost, a shadow, leaving no trace behind. Exactly as William wanted.

Only when you finally arrived at their manor, obscured by the inky darkness of the night, did you let yourself breathe. The still air of your and William's bedroom greeted you pleasantly and you slowly made your way in, haphazardly discarding your numerous jewellery on the desk nearby along the way. Your body was still thrumming with adrenaline from a successful mission, but even more than that it was brimming with something deeper— more desperate. William and Albert would soon return to the estate now that the ball had been interrupted, and the fire that you had been suppressing the entire night threatened to burst out. You had no doubts he felt the same. The fun dance you two have been trapped in the entire night has finally reached its conclusion. The most delightful reward or the most delicious punishment— you wonder which one awaited you upon his arrival.

After what felt like an eternity, slow footsteps sounded in the hallway, unmistakably making their destination known, and the door creaked open almost soundlessly. Your spine tingled as he entered the room, yet you didn't spare him a glance, pretending to busy yourself with removing the accessories from your hair. "I assume everything went according to plan?"

His answering chuckle was accompanied by the rustle of clothes as he discarded his suit jacket. "Everything unfolded beautifully. No one seems to understand how the poison ended up in poor Lord Brownlow's drink." He threw you a conspiratorial grin. "After all, they were all too preoccupied later by the documents a servant managed to uncover in his room, detailing all his atrocities."

You nodded. The tension in the room was palpable, but neither of you wanted to interrupt this tentative stalemate you found yourself in. You were both content to wait the other out— another quick round of your game, this one much shorter and much less torturous. Only when the last accessory left your hair, the mass of it unraveling down your back, did you glance in his direction. "I seem to require some assistance with my dress"

With one hand you threw your hair over your shoulder, body trembling with anticipation as he leisurely made his way to you. It was almost agonizing really, the unhurried way in which his hands traced your arms and shoulder blades down to the corset, leaving in their wake a sea of goosebumps. His lips ghosted over the skin of your neck. "You looked ravishing tonight. I didn't have the opportunity to tell you sooner." His fingers made quick work of the lace and countless hidden clasps and buttons of your corset. "That was quite an ordeal you pulled."

You laughed, a little breathless. "Don't speak as if you didn't enjoy it."

William's lips pulled into a grin, lightly nipping your skin. "You wicked thing, I'm inclined to believe you enjoy tormenting me."

You gasped, leaning back closer to him. "Is it truly torment if I give you exactly what I promised?"

"After the torture you put me through I think I deserve at least some recompense for your actions." As you felt the dress slip from your shoulders, silky fabric sliding down and pooling around your feet, his lips caressed the skin of your shoulder. "And I must say the reward for my patience will be worthwhile indeed."

Delightful reward it was for tonight it seemed.

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Polishing

Author’s note: More of Titus in Blueberry Pie

Summary: Titus requests that you help tend to his armor.

Warnings: none? Let me know if I need to add anything

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy , @thevoidscreams, @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Titus had found that one serf who had gained the eye of a couple of his younger brothers, who were being… a bit unprofessional. One was being mischievous and needling the more easily provoked brother. Who is falling for the lure and bait, hook, line, and sinker.

Titus shakes his head with a sigh and a huff of laughter, he remembers the pair of bratty little brothers back when they were merely battle brothers- before they had attained their lofty ranks. The younger of the two squabbling brothers knew how much ‘improper’ speech could bother the hell out of the Noble born Ultramarines, and did it anyway.

It’s good- to try to find ways to humble some of the more… elitist brothers, drag them back into the soil and mud. Kept their egos in check, so long as it didn’t go too far, things going too far hasn’t happened in a while, but he’s monitoring that situation, just in case.

It’s good that more of Ventris’s personality is coming back out, as much as it’s sometimes aggravating. The poor younger brother had been tortured by a faction of the Inquisition, Titus grimaces to himself, he knows first hand how miserable that experience can be.

He spots you and calls out, “Miss Serf?”

You turn and look over at him, bowing politely and asking, “How may I serve you, My Lord?”

“I need help cleaning and tending to my armor,” Titus says, “Come with me.”

“Yes Lord Angel,” You reply

You had heard that Lord Demetrian Titus was known for being polite and soft spoken. Resolute and dauntless, caring and concerned for the baseline folk. Something that cannot be said for all Lord Angels, or so you have been told by some of the older, more experienced Serfs.

You help him take off his armor- which is incredibly heavy, he helps you shift the pieces of armor too heavy for you to carry to be carefully placed where he wants it to be cleaned. Once the Armor is off you try not to fluster.

The black carapace that is void-capable adheres to Lord Astarte bodies like a second skin. Then you try not to cough as your eye water, you have also been warned that the … ripe scent of a Lord Angel who’s been on campaign, and unable to be out of armor for weeks or months at a time can be quite… pungent.

“I am glad of the communal baths,” Titus says with a self-deprecating smile, “It helps with washing the mud of battle off one’s skin.”

“As you say, Lord Titus,” You say your cheeks are still pink and your eyes water a little bit.

“Stay here and clean my armor, I shall be back in a few moments,” Lord Titus says as he heads off to have a luxurious bath in the Astartes bathing area- joining a mixed group of battle brothers and officers.

While he relaxes in the baths, talking and listening to his brother talk about the battles they’ve recently fought, and some of the best currency they have gossip. Titus hears the story of how Sicarius- as a Sargent, The Chapter Master, The Head Librarian, and another brother, basically ruined an entire space marine’s career.

No one knows the reasons, official or otherwise for the reason they had done so, but it was good gossip to have- and a reminder of the power that their Chapter Master held, not just the martial power, but the soft power as well.

Part of Titus wondered if he should ask Cato his side of that particular story, and if the younger Space marine will tell him or not. Even odds- Cato is usually proud of his accomplishments, as well as helping their Chapter Master do Things.

While that was going on, you were carefully cleaning, scrubbing and polishing Lord Titus’s armor. The brackish, awful smelling armor slowly becomes that noble hue of blue and gold. You clean and replace the cloth and bucket of cleaning solution and water as needed.

By the time all of the armor is properly cleaned and polished, your arms are sore from carefully heaving the heavier parts of armor around to ensure that it’s properly cleaned on both sides. That the leather-mixture, whatever it was on the inside of the armor is also properly cleaned and taken care of.

“Thank you for getting my armor done,” Titus thanks you.

You jump a little, startled, Lord Angels are surprisingly light on their feet and silent out of armor.

“You are welcome, Lord Angel,” You reply, now that the smell of mud, blood, and battle was off of him, your cheeks flush a little as you try not to… eye the Lord Angel inappropriately. 

He gives you a small smile and a gentle nod as he releases you from the task of trying to put the armor away properly. Which he does easily, he dismisses you and you bow to him and head out to return to your previous duties.

[big-ass-magnet]

Bill would have made a great old-school Heterodyne, apparently.

Can you imagine if Teodora had failed? If Bill was the very good Heterodyne he was always meant to be?

(He did try, really he did, out of affection for his mother if nothing else, but then Father would always come striding in and shout first one to the torture room gets to throw the knife switch! and what kind of ten year old would be able to sit and listen to lectures on compassion in the face of such temptation?)

The Heterodyne Boys are the terrors of Europa, riding into battle side-by-side. The last thing many a terrified innocent sees is the boys giving their victorious thumbs up, just as the fire comes raining down.

Bill would still fall for Lucrezia, but instead of trying to turn her to the side of Good, he is enthralled by her evil and she by his strength and power. Love is as blinding to the Evil as it is to the Good, and he doesn't see her for what she is, even when the rest of the town does.

(Not that anyone is more likely to tell an Evil Bill his wife is the bad kind of crazy, not when he'd react with less "quiet disapproval" and more "catapult you into the sun".)

Lucrezia is still Lucrezia and she craves control and power and dominance and she would probably be driven up the wall by her darling ruthless William allowing the Castle and the Jägers and the seneschal to snark and argue and this town is supposed to be slavishly loyal; where is the blind obedience, where is the trembling deference?

The "Other" attack still happens. Bill is still driven half-mad by grief. (Or perhaps half-sane.) Bill swears bloody revenge, Bill is going to find the Spark who did this and wipe them from existence.

And then the strangest thing happens.

Suddenly, the Heterodyne riding in at the head of a Jäger horde means a rescue. It means an unstoppable army beating back against the revenants, and while they're hardly going to help you pick up the pieces and rebuild afterwards, you know you're going to live.

(The first time they arrive at a besieged town to cheers instead of screams, the Heterodynes and Jägers react like feral cats being offered bowls of wet food--they don't not like it, but they're skittish and wary and will maybe hide under a dumpster for a few minutes until you go away.)

And then one day the Jägers come home, sans Heterodynes. The masters have gone where they cannot follow, and no one is sure when or even if they will be coming back.

Their work during the Other War has won Mechanicsburg enough good will that no one immediately went steamrolling over them when the boys vanished, but they've all spent the last few years since Bill and Barry disappeared holding very very still and being very very quiet, hoping no one remembers that they're still there. Sooner or later, they're going to have to go to this new Wulfenbach Empire for help.

AND HOO BOY DOES KLAUS HAVE HIS WORK CUT OUT FOR HIM. At least in canon, Bill and Barry had done the big stuff already and Klaus was (correctly or not) only concerned with rehabilitating the Jägers.

To reuse the metaphor, Klaus has to take an abandoned building housing an entire colony of feral cats and turn it into a cat cafe.

[antebunny]

find me in the future

After so many reincarnations and reunions, Wei Wuxian’s soul is so attuned to Lan Zhan’s soul that all it takes for Wei Wuxian to remember his past lives is making eye contact with Lan Zhan. He never remembers a life before the first one where he met Lan Zhan, which is probably for the best. You have to start somewhere. 

Of course, as the centuries fly by and Wei Wuxian collects reincarnations like Pokemon cards (fantastic new invention, he’s finally born in the right century!), it takes longer and longer for him to recalibrate to centuries of memories getting dumped into his previously innocent nine-year-old brain. (Always nine years old. Can’t ever get away). 

This is Wei Wuxian’s excuse for why he doesn’t immediately run to Lan Zhan after making eye contact with him on a crowded street. Well, one of many excuses. There’s also the part where he’s a tiny little nine-year-old orphan (again?!) tossed between the bodies of many, many stampeding adults, all attempting to reach for Lan Zhan. He’s above them, of course; Lan Zhan cultivated to immortality so long ago that now he doesn’t walk, he glides, or floats, or flies. The result is the same: the god-like light-bearing lord appearing before his people, who fall over themselves (and Wei Wuxian) in their eagerness to be blessed by his presence. 

By the time Wei Wuxian struggles to the front of the crowd, Lan Zhan is long gone. 

Okay, so here’s his problem: Wei Wuxian is not immortal. Mo Xuanyu’s body, if it ever possessed the potential to cultivate to immortality (doubtful), had that potential beaten out long before Wei Wuxian came to own it. Unfortunately, back then, he and Lan Zhan, still young and naive (ha, funny what perspective time gives you), truly believed that with enough effort he could succeed where so many had failed. 

Instead, Lan Zhan was forced to watch as his beloved withered, wrinkled and finally grew still while he remained as pristinely young adult as ever. To make matters worse, Jiang Cheng also cultivated to immortality, proving that Wei Wuxian’s original golden core had that capability. The ensuing guilt from both of them–Jiang Cheng for having Wei Wuxian’s core, Lan Zhan for encouraging Wei Wuxian to cultivate to immortality with him–and loneliness as the only two immortals of their generation brought the two of them together, which Wei Wuxian still thinks is kind of cute. They’re like frenemies now, who know how to work with each other instinctively and will defend each other to the death (or a death–no, bad Wei Wuxian, not funny) but still hate each other’s guts. 

Over the centuries Wei Wuxian has been reborn as just about every type of person. Some lived entire lives without ever even hearing of Lan Zhan. Some never learned to write, much less cultivated a golden core, some were widely beloved, some were scorned, and some found their way back to Lan Zhan.

If Wei Wuxian is being completely honest–and he’d never share this brutal honesty with any of his loved ones–those lives are the worst. Inevitably, Wei Wuxian’s new body lacks the capability to cultivate to immortality, and his loved ones who have are all forced to watch for the thousandth time as Wei Wuxian sputters and stalls until his body inevitably gives out and he dies. Old age, Wei Wuxian has come to learn through vast unwanted experience, is an unlucky way to go. No, better to go out in a blaze of glory, for a cause or for a people. The death is temporary and he will be remembered by people who love him. Making his loved ones watch his slow demise when he knows that he will never reach immortality in this lifetime is nothing short of torture.  

Perhaps that’s why it is such a surprise when little nine-year-old Wei Wuxian (Zhang Xinyin, or William Zhang, in this lifetime, he’s Chinese again but he speaks Cantonese now for a total of twelve languages, nice) hunkers down in a quiet little corner of the orphanage and discovers that this body has the highest potential to cultivate to immortality of any body he’s ever had, including his original. 

The practice of cultivation fell out of use many, many centuries ago. Wei Wuxian is on his own for this one. The good news is that he’s an expert at forming a golden core at this point, perhaps more than anyone else in the world. So all Wei Wuxian has to do is find a stable way of life for the next decade or so, which supports a child practicing an esoteric art like his life depends on it, and then he can worry about finding his family.

That is, of course, easier said than done. 

“Will! Hey, Will!” 

Wei Wuxian startles out of meditation (if only Lan Zhan could see him now) when he hears one of his new friends calling his name (well, one of many). He had spread a blue rubber yoga mat out on the green concrete rooftop, hoping to find some peace and quiet wherein he could meditate and nurse that slowly-budding golden core in his chest. 

Freckles, or Ruddy, or Rush, or Chen, pokes his little cherub-like face over the roof edge. (Everyone Wei Wuxian’s age–biological age–looks like a little baby child to him, and everyone in the world seems impossibly young. It helps that he likes kids, and they tend to like him). 

“What troubles you?” Wei Wuxian calls as he stands up.

So the last time he learned English it was quite different, okay? Sue him. He’s relearning it. 

“You’re so weird,” Chen informs him as he picks his way between cracks and loose sand and dust. “Were you meditating again?”

“Yes.” Wei Wuxian pounds a fist to his chest twice. “I will be stronger than anyone. You will see.”

Chen only rolls his eyes. “Okay, Bruce Lee. Anyways. Lynch is asking for you.”

A very nice white lady who is unfortunately named Ms. Lynch came to volunteer at their school to teach. Wei Wuxian likes her, and to his surprise he likes the woman who runs the orphanage too. He’s had a bad run with orphanages in the past but this one is okay. No funding, of course, and understaffed, but Wei Wuxian doesn’t need adult supervision. (Somewhere on a different continent, Jiang Cheng sneezes loudly). 

“Yeah? Whatever for?” Wei Wuxian follows Chen down the ladder and misses Chen rolling his eyes again.

“Dunno, go find out.” 

Wei Wuxian takes a few shortcuts on his way through the school building. He goes to public school, of course, as do all the kids from the orphanage, but Wei Wuxian is their star. A shining example of what orphans can be if they apply themselves. The kids all think he’s weird, which is fair, because he is, but the (other) adults think that Wei Wuxian is a studious little goody-two shoes. The truth is that Wei Wuxian has learned how to solve problems discreetly and how to cause trouble without getting caught. And that he’s only well-adjusted in the sense that he’s had dozens of childhoods; one more isn’t going to mess him up too terribly. 

Ms. Lynch is poking around her computer (absolutely amazing new invention, Wei Wuxian was definitely reborn in the right century) when Wei Wuxian skids to a stop by her desk. 

“Hello, Ms. Lynch.” Wei Wuxian beams in a way that he knows she loves. “Chen said you were asking for me?”

Ms. Lynch closes out of a few tabs and turns in her swivel chair (another great new invention), brushing straw brown hair behind thick plastic glasses. “Yes, I heard that you have been trying to learn cultivation all by yourself, can I ask what sparked your interest?”

Wei Wuxian shrugs. “It seemed interesting.” He really wants to become immortal this lifetime in order to save people who he cares about deeply a lot of grief. “It’s fun.” 

“I see.” Ms. Lynch clearly isn’t satisfied with this answer, but she nods and smiles all the same. “You know, I wrote about the ancient practices of cultivation for my senior thesis, and it’s quite dangerous to do without supervision. Have you considered joining a class?”

“Uh.” Well, actually, Wei Wuxian could teach that class better than probably anyone else in the world, except maybe for Jiang Yanli, but it’s irrelevant because he certainly doesn’t have the money to afford it. “Noooo?”

“Hm.” Ms. Lynch smiles again, in a gently disapproving kind of way. “Well, I know that they can be expensive and quite a hassle, but I just wanted to make sure that you aren’t taking anything you learn from the internet about it too seriously. A lot of it is misleading and you can really harm yourself.”

Wei Wuxian is fighting for his life on the Wikipedia pages for cultivation. First, because he’d hoped that leaving some kind of coded message there could catch the attention of someone in his family and lead to them finding him. When that didn’t work, Wei Wuxian started combating misinformation (a losing battle) while having the reputation of that Wikipedia editor who put random gibberish in for fun. 

“Oh, I’m not,” Wei Wuxian chirps. “It’s all for fun, Ms. Lynch. I promise I’m not doing anything dangerous.”

“Okay, I believe you,” Ms. Lynch says, mostly sincerely. “I don’t mean to discourage you. It’s wonderful to see you taking an interest. Most kids your age have no interest in stuff like that.”

What she means is that cultivation is the ancestral practice and cultural heritage of his people. Because Wei Wuxian was born into the right social group: there are maybe a couple hundred thousand of his people spread across the globe, in little diaspora communities with varying levels of wider acceptance. Wei Wuxian’s family–the ones who have cultivated to immortality–are their leaders. Mysterious, reclusive figures who almost never interact with outsiders yet are beloved within their communities for how steadfastly they’ve protected them over the centuries. A lot of people outside the community think they’re a cult, which is probably fair, all things considered. 

It’s funny. Wei Wuxian has never been closer and yet never felt further from his family than this lifetime. A real chance of cultivating to immortality, a place in the only group of people with access to the famed (or rumored) immortals, and his reputation has never been better; his people celebrate his birthday every year (or they celebrate the excuse to party, same difference) and pray for his reincarnation. Yet if he–William Zhang–claimed to be the legendary Wei Wuxian’s reincarnation, no one would believe him. They’d ignore him as a loud-mouthed kid, at best. At worst, well, Wei Wuxian isn’t going to test that. In no situation would they–the community leaders–reach out to the immortals on his word. 

Instead, Wei Wuxian slinks back to the bedroom he shares with Chen and two other boys (he doesn’t miss being a girl, but damn could they keep a room clean) and wonders if Sizhui has gotten Lan Zhan an iPhone yet.

Maybe it’s for the best, Wei Wuxian tells himself. Reuniting with his family while in the body of a child will be awkward. Especially with Lan Zhan, who has been attracted to Wei Wuxian in whatever body they reunited in but is obviously not attracted to children. Wei Wuxian is not looking forward to spending years lusting after his own damn husband while Lan Zhan can only see a child. Yes, it’s definitely for the best.

Even if Wei Wuxian is terribly lonely. 

So the years pass. Wei Wuxian cultivates a golden core, gobbles up modern slang like he was born for it, learns how to code in Python, and enters high school with an end goal: immortality by age twenty-four. The current record-holder is Wen Qing, who cultivated to immortality at the ripe old age of twenty-five, the lucky bastard. She reincarnated in the 1500s into the perfect set of circumstances: a second-eldest son of a wealthy family who practiced cultivation. Her family patriarch was one of the community elders who semi-regularly communicated with the immortal cultivators. The year when Wen Qing was brought along for the first time, Wen Ning took one look at her and said “jiejie” and that was that.

Obviously, Wei Wuxian has to beat her record. 

Some of them choose to forget.

Over the centuries Wei Wuxian and the others have encountered countless reincarnations of people they knew from their original lives. (And important people from future lives too, but those were never quite the same. There’s something about their original lives that always sang like an unfinished symphony, an epic story not yet fully written, even though Wei Wuxian lived a full life). Sometimes the choice is made for them not to help them remember. Such was the case for a reincarnation of Jin Guangyao, found in 556 B.C. by Wen Ning and Sizhui. Sometimes they choose to move on, like the reincarnation of Jiang Fengmian found by Jiang Yanli. They leave him alone nowadays, whenever they find him. His soul is not so attuned to anyone else’s as to have the strike of realization that hit Wei Wuxian on that crowded street. 

The worst is when they reunite, live happily, and still choose to say goodbye. Nie Huaisang reincarnated in Italy, dragged Wei Wuxian off to France to learn Impressionist painting, and still chose to reenter the reincarnation cycle. Wei Wuxian, whose body that decade could not even form a golden core, simply could not understand Nie Huaisang’s unwillingness to cultivate to immortality. He still doesn’t. 

Humans have orbited the moon. For that alone, it is worth it. He only wishes all humans could feel how far they’ve come.   

Even those that chose to become immortal have retreated from the world. So many lifetimes, so many childhoods, so many parents and lovers and children–it’s impossible to care equally forever. The world feels so much larger when you have been an Egyptian farmer during the reign of Cleopatra, to whom the pyramids were ancient history, and one of the slaves who built them, and a Finnish soldier who fought on skis against invading Russians in 1939. In the face of such grandness, how can one tiny community, one family, one person matter?

It’s a blessing and a curse. Wei Wuxian has had good parents and bad parents and everything in between until he finally figured out how it works. He’s grown up in enough families with pet dogs that he’s lost his fear of them. On the other hand, he has had so many friends in so very many forms that he struggles to convince himself they truly matter. They’ll all be dead within the century, anyways. 

Lan Zhan and Jiang Cheng have the opposite problem. They only have one life, the original, to remember, even as that life’s length stretches far past the boundaries of a normal human lifespan. Their main link to the world, Wei Wuxian knows, is him. Sizhui and Jin Ling drag them out for enrichment exercises, and Jiang Yanli can usually get her way if she sets her mind to it, but it’s still guilt over Wei Wuxian’s second life as Mo Xuanyu that keeps them here. 

The 21st century slams in, a rush of technicolor and lightspeed and skyscrapers (and like all centuries, war, disease and death). The tale of the Yiling Patriarch vastly outstrips the size and weight of Yiling. The Burial Mounds are a nice forest now. Hundreds of thousands of people hope for his return. And still Wei Wuxian cannot manage a single immortality-sized golden core. 

The opportunity sneaks up on Wei Wuxian. Shamefully, he needs the obvious spelled out before he can see it. 

“You going to the cultivation tournament?” 

Wei Wuxian was actually studying calculus. Seriously, it’s crazy how much people have proven about math since the last time he–wait, cultivation?

When Wei Wuxian digs his nose out of his textbook, Ian is smirking at him, and Chen is blinking innocently. Ian slouches over the library table so he can push the textbook shut.

“Eh, probably not worth it,” Wei Wuxian dismisses. He’s not learning cultivation so he can dunk on some kids who only learning cultivating without the cultivation. 

“You sure?” Chen butts in, now smirking too. “I hear winner gets to meet the immortals.”

Ian grins when Wei Wuxian’s mouth falls open. The kid has no idea what’s going on with “the immortals” or cultivation–he’s pretty sure that Ian thinks he and Chen are deep in a religious cult with weird beliefs but normal holidays–but Ian  gleefully abuses the effect it has on Wei Wuxian.

“Sounds made up,” Wei Wuxian says suspiciously.

“No, no, it’s true!” Chen insists. “They hold it every twenty-five years. Or they say they will. They haven’t done this before.” 

It’s very hard to get very old immortals to do something new. What changed? 

The answer smacks Wei Wuxian in the face as Chen pulls out his phone and shows an official-looking announcement, shared around their community, to Wei Wuxian. It’s the internet. Previously, Wei Wuxian lived entire lives without ever hearing of cultivation. Now, anyone with an internet connection will probably run into the term at least once. Now, Wei Wuxian’s family can reach out, through screens and cables and the casual interest of millions, to him.

They’re doing this for him.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t read Wikipedia articles. Lan Zhan regresses into a fugue state whenever Wei Wuxian’s not around. Maybe Wen Qing had the idea, maybe Sizhui put it together. Because they’re still reaching out, still waiting for Wei Wuxian to come home. 

This is his chance. 

[novacqnes]

i dare you // ellie williams

summary: not a single coherent thought in sight…..just riding ellie’s thigh until you’re numb

warning: smut; overstimulation, thigh riding, top!ellie

pairing: ellie williams x fem reader

the heat was sweltering, swaddling you so tightly that it was almost invasive, torturously working its way toward your core. it began as a light hum that swarmed your thoughts, trailing down to your exposed tits left vulnerable to her pink lips. and soon at the very pit of your stomach where a small knot formed, slowly twisting and turning with each sharp movement and slick taunt. it buzzed along the surface of your damp skin, swelling with great fervor as your hips snapped against ellie’s bare thigh.

silently she watched, eyelids hung low and completely entranced by the sight. her hands clung to the sides of your hips, refusing to offer you just a sliver of mercy in your pursuit. the unwavering grip prevented you from being able to lift yourself up, enduring each and every slight motion of your cunt against ellie’s soft skin. and by all means, was it purposeful— she needed it to keep you in place, presenting you with an abundantly clear ultimatum. stay down for the entirety of the dare— ride it all out, the tears, whines, and gut-wrenching pleasure before her…..or quit.

“you can’t touch—“

“i can’t what? hm? just say the word and we’ll end it right here.”

it was supposed to be a quick game. a small, insignificant dare was all you’d intended for it to be. yet the game didn’t suddenly stop. after the first dare the second one trailed in, it was slightly more provocative and daring but nothing of this magnitude. they were small initially, surface-level challenges that ordered you to strip one item or confess a secret. gradually, one after the next they began to pile up, amplifying the rush of adrenaline through your veins to an insatiable degree.

fervent tears brimmed the corners of your eyes, obscuring your vision. you sped up frantically jutting your hips forward with each flustered breath. your clit was sensitive, hot with pure desire, and lust as it worked against ellie’s soaked thigh. fluids covered the entire surface producing filthy squelching sounds as you came in contact with it. pervading the air around you and ellie’s already massive ego. the friction alone was enough to send you into a tailspin, forcing the tears and high-pitched whines to spill.

she cupped her hands to your face, subtly wiping away the tears that stained your cheeks, “don’t cry baby…. this was all you, remember?”

“i—i know—fuck,” she nudged her thigh forward, harshly rubbing against that soft bundle of nerves between your legs. her movements were slow and tauntingly so. a big, arrogant smirk spread from both corners of her lips, as she leaned back repeating the motion in an addictive cycle. and she adored every moment of it. her pride swelled with each cry and tremble that rippled through your body until she was nowhere near done.

“i’m not even touching you,” she whispered, her breath lightly fanning the lob of your ear. your hips threatened to give out— the pleasure crept its way into all parts of your body like a wretched poison, taking the reigns as you were left completely susceptible to its merciless wrath. so great and powerful that it almost hurt. soon it grew nearly impossible for you to maintain the same rampant speed and ellie refused to let it end there.

“we’re not done princess, what was it that you said earlier?” her voice fell to a teasingly low octave as your vision cleared, jagged fragments of your orgasm lingering the more you shook.

“ellie…” you whined, quickly recognizing the same raging ache take place between the center of your legs. her hands found their way back towards your hips, as did that slight obnoxious movement that brought you to a high in the first place.

“i wanna hear you say it.”

your eyes flickered between hers— immediately you understood. there was no escaping it, she wielded your pleasure like a sword, at every whim she could make you beg, twist, turn, and cry all in the name of gratification. not just for you but for her. for her to watch derive the utmost fulfillment from it. the thought alone made you high….high from the abundance of possibilities and most especially, the control she had over you.

slowly you began to inch your hips forward, drawing in a sharp breath. blackened spots crept into the corners of your vision, strengthening with sloppy each movement as ellie sat back— lavishing in it. finally you buried your face in the crook of her neck, whispering against hot dewy skin, “a dare is a dare.”

[mrssylvatica]

"The Other Fairy Tale" - Different Fairy Tales (AU?)

~560 words || The members of Crown, represented by different fairy tales than the originals used in the game.

This fanfiction is rated for all audiences, but keep in mind that the game, Ikemen Villains, is intended for a more mature audience.

◇ CW: None...?  Nothing too serious. Let me know if I should add any warnings. ◇ Let me know if you'd ever like to be tagged in my posts!

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William: Rapunzel (original version)

sorry for the jumpscare

You’ve always been a dreamer.  You’ve always wanted to see the world, but the walls built around you prevented you.  Ah, mother (Victor) warned you not to fall in love with anyone (prologue), but look at you now.  You could never see the world, no matter how much you wanted to.  It took a prince to whisk you off your feet and guide you to free will.  Even if William was blinded by thorns, he’d still be able to find you in the dark.

◇

Harrison: Cinderella

Black hearts may mistreat you, Only a miracle could save you, But he’s able to see through the lies, as well as your disguise, because his love is one that is true.

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Liam: The Little Mermaid (original version)

It was an impossible relationship.  You are of land, while he is of sea.  You’re worth more to him than you’ll ever know.  He loves you so much, oh, he’d die for you.  He saved you so many times.  Liam sacrificed everything just for a chance, a small chance to love you.  Learn from the Prince’s mistake.  You better love him back and not leave him for another.

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Elbert: The Little Mermaid

All the beautiful things he heard about on the surface brought him jealousy.  For years, he would collect every little scrap that fell to him from the sky.  When Elbert looked up at you from the sea’s surface, he fell for you in an instant.  The siren, entranced by you, the most beautiful of them all.  But perhaps he would do something different.  Instead of dragging you to the surface, he would drag you beneath the depths.  A place where he could love you forever.  And now you belong to him.

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Alfons: Red Riding Hood

The wolf will lead you astray with the beautiful flowers on the way. He’ll devour you whole, And take hold of your soul. You’ll never see another day.

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Roger: Pinocchio

Roger will always fix you up when you’re chased, injured, and on the verge of death. It doesn't matter if you're flesh or wood.  He’ll hold you close and shield you from the world.  In a world surrounded by death, in which life is increasingly bizarre, you’re real to him.  You may be a fool, but you’re the only thing keeping him sane.

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Jude: Aladdin (Disney's version)

He’s a rich, feisty prince.  You’re a robber on the streets, on the run.  Strange how you two fell in love.  Quit trying to impress him, he isn’t interested.  Oh-  oh dear.  Jude crosses his arms and sighs.  You should have just been yourself in the first place.

Well then, what are your three wishes?

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Ellis: ??? ("Happy Ending")

The world is full of unhappiness.  Ellis would rather kill you to preserve your happiness than to have the possibility of it being tainted.  He’ll stop time when you’re at your happiest, letting you stay in that happiness - forever.  That’s his happy ending.

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Victor: The Little Match Girl

Victor already knew your fate, but he must let life take its course.  He’s tortured by the visions of the deaths of those he loves.  Ah, but despite their sins, he loves them all so much.  Death watches over the girl, letting the flames remind her of love and kindness.  May you die with a smile on your face, and let the loving Death carry you to Heaven.

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SHITPOST MAIN: @rou-luxe

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Author's Notes

I remember seeing something similar for Ikemen Prince, and I decided it must be done for Villains.

I had to choose a fairytale that's different from the one they originated from. No similar characters either, which means Roger wasn't allowed to be the Huntsman from Red Riding Hood.

Harrison and Alfons' seemed too short... so I just made them into limericks...

Just something I was tempted to include in Roger's. But this fox and cat are rather antagonistic, so I decided against it.

The line from Ellis' is a reference to petite-otome's translation of his trailer~

My favorite is definitely Elbert's. It has such fanfiction potential. Maybe later. But my least favorite is probably Ellis'... I couldn't think up anything better than "happy ending".

Elbert mermay art might come out on my main anytime. @rou-luxe Elbert merman and lighthouse keeper Alfons... my Elbert merman AU... it never stops...

[fazgoo-connoiseur-1987]

not an art request

but can we get a little bittle lore dump on your interpretations of our favorite bear? please :3

Henry... Henry Emily... I love him so much... I have a lot to say so I'm just gonna bullet some stuff down.

Henry's had depression pretty much his whole life, it's not something he develops after his life falls apart though obviously that does make it worse. Typically he calls Bill when he's going through it cus he's the only person he's alright being semi-vunerable around.

He's not a great husband or father (pretty bad at it actually). He's generally aloof and emotionally unavailable- he get's so sucked into his projects he doesn't even remember his family exists for extended periods of time. After his wife leaves him and takes Sammy he gets a little bit better with it for the sake of looking after Charlie but he still doesn't spend as much time with her as he should. He's pretty alright with kids when he's actually interacting with them, though.

He sees himself in William and he fucking hates it. They're very similar at the end of the day and Henry resents that, even before William does anything abhorrent. William's more well liked than Henry, his marriage is more sucessful, his relationship with his kids- he's a little jealous though you would literally have to torture that admission out of him.

This goes both ways though, obviously, and Henry's pretty aware of that. He likes knowing more about William than everyone else does. He can see behind his snake-oil salesman ruse and that makes him feel powerful.

This is partly why he covers up the MCI for him but also because, after Charlie's death, he threw literally his whole being into this pizzeria and these robots. It's why he keeps trying to open locations and why they're all shady as fuck; he wouldn't know what to do with himself without Freddy's and when the 94' location shuts down he gets sent down a 30 year long depressive spiral.

He takes his own life in 86' using Baby and Bill finds him, injects him with some remnant and fucks off. Henry is completly and utterly consumed by the need for revenge from this point onwards, it's pretty much all he thinks about.

He's the frightguard and that's a really fun experience for him. I think he's really really really weird about Springtrap. Lots of different ways weird.

He wasn't gonna tell Mike he was gonna set everyone on fire but they were talking mid-way into the week and Henry had his only good thought of 'oh fuck, yeah he should probably know, huh.'

He's Old Man Consequences cus I like that idea a lot. It is a sort of punishment for him, though. He spent his whole life thinking about William fucking Afton and now he's gotta guard him forever. Get the whole of you reflected back at you, idiot.

[liverwisteria]

LAUGHING JACK HEADCANONS

General Headcanons! And silly things. Wisteria doesn’t know how to word things.

- Laughing Jack has a lanky build, he’s 7’4 and his age is unknown. He does physically look like he’s in his 30’s or 40’s though.

- He’s an asexual aromantic clown.

- His Birthday is on December 24th! Christmas Eve! Born somewhere in the 1800’s.

- Originally, he was made to be a guardian of sorts. Was made by an Angel that sent him to a troubled boy in hopes the clown could give him some fun and protect the boy. Only things didn’t go as planned…and so now he’s a demonic clown.

- Buttt that’s for a separate Wisteria post!

- His color scheme is black and white! There’s no other color he’ll wear. Or get near…he hates every other color in the rainbow. Thinks they’re boring and not fun!

- His room in the Slendermansion is a gigantic circus tent. Everything is in black and white, like it’s some old film. But In the middle of his room is his box! He’s Jack In The Box! Hahah.

- His box is connected to him, which means he won’t die until the box is destroyed. And let me tell you, it is extremely difficult for that box to be destroyed. It was made by an Angel after all.

- He’s able to go into the box, it’s like his own pocket dimension. He stores random items in there.

- Has eaten the staue of liberty

- Wisteria doesn’t know how to explain this. Wisteria will just say this is a canon event in a rp. Which is canon in my universe.

- Wisteria will go into more detail about this on another post. Wisteria promises.

- He has rainbow blood, only it’s a dull shade of the rainbows. No he’s not made out of stuffing in Wisterias AU…the clown has organs and guts and rainbow blood.

- The blood doesn’t do anything, it’s just unique.

- He has swirls in his eyes that is constantly spiraling around, the more strong his emotions are the more they spiral. They don’t affect his vision at all.

- Is it cannibalism is you’re a demonic clown?

- Well anyways. Laughing Jack is a cannibal clown demon that kills and tortures children. Errrmmm yeah. He eats organs and guts too.

- His favorite foods are organs, guts, and MANGOSSSS!!!

- He can’t eat too much human food, or else he ends up violently puking everywhere.

- More on the children killing thing. He pretends to be the child’s friend, promising them he’ll protect them. Saying they’re best friends! Earning the child’s trust, before betraying them and killing them. He makes the child go insane, isolates them from their friends and family.

- He has a lot of abilities. Ones that are very powerful. Only he doesn’t use these to do anything useful, he just uses them in order to mess with the other proxies living in the mansion or to mess with the child he’s planning to kill.

- He likes messing with people that just who Laughing Jack is. Occasionally he’ll juggle around the mansion until someone notices. He’ll keep adding items until people notice him. And if they don’t he throws the items at the first person he sees.

- Elf ears! Which means super hearing! Which means he can’t be around loud noises— EXCEPT he’s gotten himself used to loud sounds, by being loud himself. So they don’t hurt his ears as much anymore.

- He has giant claws for fingers so he can’t hold things properly. Or he’ll have to like pinch an item to hold it, everything is so small compared to himself.

- In my AU he does know William Grossmen and Frankie The Undead! He goes over to their apartment every weekend to see how things are going. He ignores Frankie— no…he FORGETS Frankie is Will’s roommate. ‘Cause he doesn’t really care for the zombie. He’s only there to see William.

“William who is this zombie you have here?”

“That’s Frankie, my roommate?”

“…OOOOHHHHH!”

- LJ sometimes mistakes William for Issac. He just looks so much like Issac to LJ. When that does happen he stares at William just to realize that he’s not Issac. He has to remember that Issac is gone.

- But he just laughs it off and goes back to doing whatever.

This is all Wisteria has for now! Wisteria will post more headcanons for characters heh. heh. heh.

- Wisteria Out!

[stylesparker]

dead man walking

PAIRING: Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT: 5k

WARNINGS: language, kidnapping, torture, graphic violence, hurt/comfort, sort of asshole!joel, protective!ellie, please let me know if I missed anything!

The lights that hung above you in your cell flickered again for the seventh time in the past twenty minutes. A new guard walks by and shakes hands with the woman who’s been watching you as of yesterday; they exchange a couple of words, take a glance at you, and snicker as one leaves and one takes the others place on the wooden chair.

You huff in your cold corner of the cell and burrow deeper into yourself, looking away so maybe you can forget that you’re here at all and not at home.

The memory of being torn out of sleep and out of your bed by cruel and harsh hands plagues your mind. The laughter that spilled from their lips when you screamed and kicked and scratched, but to no avail. You can only imagine the image created for Ellie when she came home from her night patrol early in the morning; bed sheets and pillows thrown on the floor torn and shredded, scratch marks all the way down the hallway from your fingernails, picture frames knocked off the walls and broken on the floor, particularly of Ellie. You don’t want to imagine how she might feel, the dread that she might have lost another person in her life with no goodbye.

You do everything you can not to cry.

“What’s the matter with you, stay quiet!” The new guard, a scruffy looking male with blonde hair tied into a bun, bangs the metal bars that hold you inside.

Despite your better judgement, you respond with, “What are you gonna do if I don’t, shoot me?”

He chuckles and turns away from you, “If it were up to me, I’d do much worse.”

That scares you more than you wish it did, so you stay quiet the rest of the night. Your mind wouldn’t let you rest, so you didn’t get a wink of sleep; but the asshole watching you did. As you watched him sleep, you imagined getting out of here somehow, taking him out before he could even know what hit him, and getting back to Ellie before she could even worry. Unfortunately, that wasn’t in your cards, so you huffed and tried to fall asleep.

...

“Damn, I cannot believe how much weed we found!” Dina laughs loudly.

“Yeah, I swear I haven’t found that much since that snowstorm with Y/N,” Ellie smiles at the thought.

Ellie and Dina trudge across the gravel towards the house you share with the two girls and Jesse. As much as Ellie wanted a house to you and herself alone, she had to admit it was fun living with her two closest friends as well; only when they weren’t getting it on in the middle of the night that is.

“God, I remember that day. When you finally grew some balls an-”

“Oh shut up, we were a thing before that!”

“You sure about that? If I recall correctly, you had only thought that-”

Ellie shoved her arm, “Do I really have to beat you to shut your damn mouth?”

“Ya’ know, I’d love that-”

The two friends got their argument shut down as soon as they approached the porch steps of the house; a terrified looking Jesse barges out the door.

“Dude, what the hell-!” The girls say in unison, but immediately stiffen at Jesses next words.

“She’s gone.”

“What the fuck do you mean she’s gone.” Ellie shoves him aside, ignoring his pleas not to go inside. Her eyes scan the house frantically, her body moving before she could even think, checking every room and only finding more terror.

“Oh my god.” Dina’s face looks like she can’t even fathom what happened, and Jesse is only staring at Ellie. She’s gone rigid, a stone cold look appearing in her eye as she catches sight of the smashed up picture frames, the scratches on the walls, and he knows she’s flipped the switch. They don’t argue and only follow Ellie as she storms out of the house, an aura of rage surrounding her as she went.

“We know who did this right?” Dina asks.

“Yeah, we know alright,” Ellie responds harshly, “and we’re gonna kill those sons of bitches like we should’ve.”

…

BANG! BANG! BANG!

“Ah shit,” you mutter, abruptly pulled out of your sleep (once again). Your hand flies to your face to cover the bright sun burning directly into your eyes.

“Wakey, wakey!” You hear laughter and rude mutterings coming from outside your cell. You can only imagine the state you must be in right now, but you open your eyes and examine your kidnappers in front of you.

Three guys and two girls, all standing there staring at you.

“What the hell do you want.” You try asserting a dominating tone, but you don’t think it comes across as bossy as you would have hoped.

“What do we want?” The blonde dude who was watching you last night laughs at that, and is quickly followed by the rest of them. “Sweetheart-”

“Don’t fucking call me that.” You snap.

He chuckles, crouching to the floor on the other side of the bars.

“Okay, honey. What we want... is a nice chat.”

You glare at them, “The fuck for?”

“Ellie Williams.” One of the girls behind him says. You think it was the redhead one, but you’re not quite sure. The other girl, the brunette, stands there leaning against the wall.

Ellie? You think. What does she have to do with this?

You huff out a laugh as best you can, “Right, and you think I’m gonna tell you anything?”

Blondie smiles, “I know you will. And you wanna know how I know that?”

You glare and don’t say a word.

“Because I know you know who I am.” Suddenly, he pulls his sweatshirt over his head and throws it to the floor. You watch him in confusion as he pulls his sleeve up and up… and…

Oh shit.

“Yeah. You know who I am.” He smiles, but this one, this one is not like the last one. It scares you so deep to your core, you almost try to flatten yourself to the wall behind you to somehow get even farther from him. “I know she would have told you. I’m glad I was right.”

“You attacked them, I don’t blame her for what she did.”

“You’re gonna talk about blame?” He hits the bars and it makes you flinch. “They came through our territory!”

“How the fuck were they supposed to know! They didn’t do shit to you until you fired on them!”

He rolls his eyes, “They knew. They saw the sign.”

“Right, like a damn sign was gonna stop them. For all they knew, the place was abandoned and that sign was years old!”

“Doesn’t matter.” A cold, dark look comes over his eyes. “Williams cut off my arm,” he gestures to the ugly scarring in the middle of his arm, with clusters of risen scar tissue on the edge of it. It looks atrocious, you wonder how he was even able to reattach it, much less use his arm for that matter.

“Well it looks like you got over that.” You mutter, but the look doesn’t leave his eye.

“And she killed my girl.”

His hands reach above him to grab onto the bars to pull him up. He stalks over to the door of the cell and unlocks it, swinging it open. His friends stiffen in anticipation.

“And now I’m gonna kill you.”

...

Joel, Tommy, and Maria were made known of your… disappearance, shortly after the others. Joel had immediately sent out a search party, but he knew what Ellie really wanted.

“No, that’s not gonna happen.”

“Joel, she’s fucking out there, I’m not sitting here-!”

“And I’m not letting you go out there! You know why they took her, right? You do realize why this happened?”

Ellie quickly straightens, mind shutting down at even the thought of it, and Dina and Jesse behind her stand to attention.

“Hey!” Dina marches up to Joel, “don’t bring that shit up. You know how hard that was.”

“Her killing that girl led to this, she has to know that-”

Dina yells, “I think she’s fucking well aware of that, Joel! And I think you should be too since she saved your damn life!”

He quiets, “Yeah, and now she’s gone.” He walks away, leaving the building as Tommy and Maria come in. They look behind them to watch Joel leave, but they walk over to the others, stopping in front of Ellie, who’s looking down at the floor.

“I know you want to go, kid, I would too, but I don’t know if it’s such a good idea. You’re gonna be their main target.” Tommy rests his hand on her shoulder, but she’s quick to shove it off.

“That’s kind of the point.”

“Ellie-”

“I don’t care,” Her voice rises, “I’m getting her back, and nobody’s stopping me.” She marches out the way they came, and Dina and Jesse sigh, following close behind her.

“Dina!” Maria calls. She whips her head back to look at her. “Watch out for her alright? Make sure she comes back with her head.”

Dina nods, “I think she plans to come back with much more than that.”

…

You scream a sharp cry of pain, whimpering at the harsh sting of the knife gliding across your skin. Your bra is soaked in blood since your shirt had been torn open so he could slice your collarbones, and you can feel the cool drip of it hitting your thighs. You lean your head back and whine, forcing yourself not to cry out again as the knife drags down the side of your arm.

“Dave, are you sure we can’t be done with her yet?” Molly, the redhead, asks. When you lean your head up just a bit through blurry tears and blood from your hairline, you see the horrified looks of the others surrounding him. As horrified as they are, they’re still sickly enjoying it, which makes you even more terrified.

“No,” he coldly replies, “we’re not done until I say we’re done.” You earn another punch across the face, you spit out the blood in your mouth onto your lap, coughing as you catch your breath.

“You’ve- you’ve made your point,” you said roughly, your voice cracking as you say it. “Just end me for gods sake, man.”

“Heh,” he chuckles, “you’d like that, huh? A swift end to your suffering? Well that’s not gonna happen, bitch.” The knife glides across the flesh of your stomach, causing you to scream out in pain again.

The brunette speaks up this time, “I know you want her to suffer, but… Daisy didn’t suffer dude. You’ve gotten your revenge, let’s just end it and get out of here before she gets here.”

“I plan on her being here.”

The group stiffens in horror.

“WHAT?!” They all shout, immediately starting to panic.

“You’re shitting me man-”

“We’re gonna fucking die.”

“She’s probably already on her way here with their shit ton of guns!”

“You think she’s just gonna let this go? You fucking tore up her girlfriend, man!”

“Y/N here was just the start of it, I’m ending her tonight.” You start fighting against the ropes confining your legs and hands after he said that.

“Ohhhh!” He laughs loudly, “Did I say something that bothered you, sweetheart?”

“You’re not gonna fucking touch her!” You snarl, spitting blood in his face.

He wipes it off, leaning his hands on his knees as he gets real close to your face. “I don’t think you’re gonna do much from this position, girl. You’re gonna sit here and watch as Williams comes in here and attempts to save you..” he says condescendingly, “and you’re gonna see the life leave her eyes as I slit her throat.”

You glare menacingly at the man, yelling at him and fighting to rip out of your chair, but he ignores you, and so do the others as they leave your room. You yell for hours, but it weakens you, and eventually, you become too tired and succumb to black nothingness.

...

"This is it," Ellie says, looking back at Dina and Jesse.

"How do you know?" Jesse asks, walking up beside her.

"Because, I recognize the building. Let's go!" She snaps quietly, waving her hand for them to follow her. They trek sneakily through the grass right up against the side of the building, and Jesse watches behind them to make sure no one is following. Sneaking out of Jackson wasn't hard, but they're very aware their absence has probably already been noticed, especially since Ellie didn't exactly hide the fact this was her plan in the first place.

The three crouch even lower when they hear voices coming through the open window right above them. Dina, being in the middle, throws her hands over the other two so they don't pop up too early and get themselves caught.

"Cool it. Let's not make ourselves known until we've at least gotten her out of there, yeah?" Ellie grumbles and Jessie just nods. "Good. Now, the five that were with the girl are most likely in there, one of them the boyfriend, so they're gonna be on our asses ready to kill. Shoot if you have to, but remember, the goal is getting Y/N out, not killing everyone-"

"This isn't going to end until they're dead, Dina," Ellie says, "I'm gonna do whatever it takes, and if that means everyone in that building dies, so be it." Without warning, she throws her gun behind her on her back and pushes herself over the wall into the awaiting room of the building.

"Well, guess we're goin' then." Jessie mutters. Dina huffs in response but is quick to follow her inside, Jessie right behind her.

Once they enter the building, they're able to hear some of the voices more clearly. The room contains two doors, both completely open, so the chance of getting caught is slightly greater now. Ellie signals two coming from the right, and two coming from the left, so Dina and Jessie split to take each side. Ellie lets Jessie take the lead into the next room, and waits until Dina is out of sight to make her next move. Once she's in the room once over, she realizes how big this room is, and Jessie is already on the other side near the two men, watching them in case they hear Ellie. Neither of them are him.

To the left, there's a long, straight hallway with what seems to be cells, with all the bars and all. Right as she's about to uncover herself, a shot rings out through the building and women start screaming.

Dina.

The men look at each other quickly and take off for the door she just entered. Jessie springs up from his spot and starts shooting at them, hitting his mark as they both crumple to the ground with bullets in their legs.

"Go!" Jessie yells at Ellie, and she takes off for the hallway. She pushes so hard her legs feel like they're gonna give out, but she ignores it and grits her teeth, determined to find you. Hopefully unharmed.

But she knows better though. She killed his girlfriend. If it were the other way around, and he killed you, she wouldn't have let that bitch live for another minute. She forces it out of her mind when she catches a sliver of your hair as she nearly passes up your cell. Ellie suddenly halts, backing up to run to your door. She struggles with the lock for a moment, but she quickly takes her gun to repeatedly jam it into the lock so it breaks apart. Once she throws the door open, she's next to you in a second, softly placing her hands on your face so you lift your head.

She hears you grumble and she sighs with relief. You're not dead.

"Hey, baby, I'm here. Let's get you outta' here yeah?" She talks quietly, nearly a whisper so you barely hear her, but you feel her hands on your skin so you start squirming.

"No no no, stop, please-"

"It's Ellie. It's Ellie, baby, you're okay." Your eyes open slightly, and tears start to fall against your face. You whimper and slump forward once the ropes are off your wrists, not able to keep yourself up. You whisper her name and she nods, taking your arms to wrap them around her neck before she picks you up to cradle you against her chest. "Yeah, me. Ellie. I'm here now. You're gonna be okay."

Your face nudges her shoulder as you dig yourself deeper into her embrace, and once you're settled she turns and runs out of the cell with you now in her arms.

She makes it half way back down the hallway when she hears a click.

A gun click.

"Stop."

She closes her eyes shut and huffs out a breath, letting her head fall back towards the ceiling. Shit.

"Turn around."

As slowly as she can, she spins around to face him, making eye contact as soon as she lifts her gaze from the ground. Surprisingly, he's smirking.

"You're here. Finally." He forces a laugh, "What took you so long? Figured you'd be here hours ago."

Ellie ignores the comment and stays quiet, glaring at him menacingly.

"What, no excuse? Alright." He shakes his head, and starts shaking the gun in his hand, pointing it in her direction. "You know who I am, right?"

"I know who you are."

He smiles, throwing his hands up, "Good! Good, that's great. I'm glad." He huffs out another laugh, but it's cut short when he drops the facade and his face turns daunting. "You know my name?"

"Your name doesn't mean shit." Ellie says.

"Dave. You should know since... you should always be able to put a name to the face who's about to ruin your whole damn life." Ellie's face doesn't change, but she starts to worry. She doesn't know what she's gonna do with you if she has to fight. "I know your name, Ellie. I know... your name, where you live," he starts to count off his fingers, "who you love, who was here that night, I know everything about you."

"Aw, how sweet."

"Yeah, joke about it now. You're not gonna be laughing when I blow your brains out."

"Does it look like I'm laughing?" Ellie lifts her chin, keeping her head high. "I know what I did, Dave. You should have taken me, this had nothing to do with her-"

"Oh, Ellie, but it did!" He interrupts. "It did because you wanna' know why? She's your girl. You took mine, I took yours. End of story."

Ellie grunts. "She was gonna kill someone who was important to me. It was either her or him."

"Blah, blah, blah, I don't care. Daisy was important to me, and you killed her."

"Daisy didn't suffer! You tortured her!" Ellie screamed.

"I suffered, Ellie. You would've done the same." He keeps his voice leveled. "We're the same you and I."

"Maybe. The only difference is that I'm gonna walk out of here alive and you're gonna be dead."

You don't see much of it. One minute you were in her arms and the next you were slumped against the wall watching her bang his head against the ground five times. At first she had the upper hand, but when she stopped, he threw his head back and slammed it hard on her nose. You heard her groan, you heard him scream, but your eyes were sort of blurry and it was so hard to lift your head.

You don't know how long you're there, it could have been a minute or an hour, but they don't stop, they never stop.

When you're able to see a little better, you see him pressing her body against the bars with an arm over her throat, choking her. She gasps for air and her hands are pushing his shoulders, but he doesn't give. You whimper on the ground as you try to move, but you just fall to your side on the floor.

"She's mine, now."

"Like hell." She sputters out. She shoves her thumbs up and into his eyes, digging her nails in causing him to scream in pain and let her go. She knees him in the crotch and watches him collapse to the floor. He groans, holding himself on the floor as Ellie towers over him.

He lifts his head to glare at her, but then he screams, "Just kill me!"

"Gladly." She whips out the gun from her belt behind her and shoots him point blank between the eyes. His head smacks the ground and his body twitches before it stops and lies motionless. Ellie stares at him for a second before her head snaps to you, lying on the ground in a crumpled sort of position and she runs to you, lifting your head to look at you properly.

"Baby, you there? You okay?"

Loud boots are heard stomping down the hallway and Ellie lifts her gun, prepared to shoot again before she realizes it's just Dina and Jessie. They come to a stop, breathing hard from their fight, but they still when they see you on the ground. Their eyes change from shock to horror, but Ellie doesn't pay attention.

"They all dead?" Ellie asks as she grabs you and cradles you in her arms again.

"Yeah..." Dina breathes, and Jessie nods. Even though you're leaning on Ellie's shoulder, you can still see them holding hands, and it makes you smile.

"Good. Let's go."

...

"It was reckless!"

"But she's here isn't she? We got her back!"

"You put her at risk-"

"She was already at risk, Joel! She was being tortured, it really couldn't have gotten much worse than that!"

"-and you three put your lives at risk, Ellie!-"

Their voices get louder and louder as you start to wake up and gain consciousness. You almost couldn't tell who it was at first when you began to slowly blink your eyes open, but as you listened to more and more of what they were arguing about, it was pretty clear who it was.

You feel the softness of a couch beneath you, and a pair of jeans rubbing against your ear. You already know it's Dina who has your head in her lap, the gentle rub on your arm giving it away. Without hinting to Dina that you're awake yet, you look around the room to see who's with you. You're in Tommy and Maria's living room; Tommy and Maria reside in the corner on a chair together, Jessie sits on the arm at the other end of the couch, and other than Dina, it's just Joel and Ellie that's left. They all look defeated and grave as they sit and listen to their argument, one that you're starting to comprehend.

You guess you were doing a bit too much shifting around because suddenly Dina's hand stops moving and her head comes into view.

"Guys, shut up, I think she's waking up!"

All of a sudden, all the attention in the room is on you, and you rub your eyes as you sit up, making it seem like you didn't just hear part of their conversation. Ellie's face lights up and she moves from across the room to kneel in front of you, helping you and Dina sit you up from your laid down position.

"Hi, baby, how you feelin'?" Ellie's soft voice is comforting to your ears, so different from how she sounded two seconds ago.

"Hi," you rasp, clearing your throat so you don't sound so hoarse, "I'm okay, I think. What time is it?"

"It's a little after 8 o'clock," she says, "do you want something to eat? Or do you want water?"

You nod your head, "I'll take some water."

"I'll get it for you." Jessie says, leaving the room to get you a glass. You look around and examine their faces, and the way they're looking at you starts to make you feel overwhelmed.

"What? You're looking at me like I'm a ghost or something." You chuckle halfheartedly to yourself, but none of them laugh with you. Ellie grips your hand, bringing your attention to her for a moment, and it's then that you notice how much emotion is being held in features as she stares at you. You can tell she wants to cry, but she holds it in her chest, shoving it down deep, so it doesn't bubble up in front of everyone. You grip back as hard as you can.

Nobody talks until Jessie gets back. He hands the glass of water to you with a gentle smile, rubbing your shoulder gently as he passes by and sits next to you on the couch. You awkwardly take small sips as they sit and stare, watching you, as if you're gonna fall or die on the spot or something. After about five minutes, you couldn't take it anymore.

"Okay, is someone going to say something, or are we all just going to sit here and stare at me?"

Ellie hides her laugh a little bit, breaking the silence, and Joel gives her a look.

"You've been through a lot, why don't you go get some rest?" Joel suggests. You want to make a comment about his and Ellie's argument, but you hold back for now. That can be hashed out in the morning, for now, you'd rather go lay in bed with Ellie.

Just as you think about going home, you remember what happened there and what the house must still look like. There's no way Ellie even went back into the house after seeing it, much less to clean it, from what you can assume she probably left right away. You look at Ellie, and she's already speaking, and lending you a hand to stand up.

"We're gonna stay here tonight, Tommy and Maria offered us a room. Just so everyone can stay together." She gives you a tight-lipped smile, and you know as soon as you get to the bedroom and you're alone, she'll probably tell you more.

"No problem, I'd like that. Thank you guys."

"Of course, honey. Get some rest, we'll see you in the morning." Maria offers a kind smile. Then her, Tommy, and Joel leave the room and head to the kitchen where they start a small, quiet conversation with themselves.

"Thanks for... everything," You turn to Dina and Jessie, giving their hands a squeeze, "I don't really know what else to say."

"You don't have to say anything, babe. You know we got you." Dina pulls you into a tight embrace, and Jessie follows suit, wrapping his lanky arms around the both of you.

"Yeah, you know we got your back. Even against crazy psycho cults." Jessie adds. Ellie and Dina give him the most point blank stare you've ever seen, and it makes you laugh, maybe a little too hard because you wince and hold your ribs.

"Stop, Jessie, you're making me laugh." He smiles, giving your head a rub and messing your hair up even more.

"Okay, let's go." Ellie grabs your hand and wraps her other arm around your waist as she leads you up the stairs, while you give Dina and Jessie one last smile. Once they're out of sight and you guys are up the stairs, you finally let yourself lean into Ellie and let her take your weight. You didn't realize how much pain you were in until now, but you think the shock of seeing everyone again all of a sudden must have just worn off. "I got you baby, we're almost there." Ellie says into your ear, giving you a kiss on the side of your head as you make it to the top of the stairs.

She sets you on the bed before going back to close the door, giving you a once over as soon as she's standing in front of you again. You offer your arms out, and she steps closer, letting your face fall into her stomach and your hands come up to wrap around her body. She feels your sigh of relief almost instantly, and it makes her cup your head and lean into you as close as she possibly can.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart." She whispers.

"For what?" You look up at her.

"I should have been there. I shouldn't have left you that morning-"

"Ellie, you were on patrol, you couldn't have known-"

"It was still too soon after everything that happened. I didn't want to leave you in the first place and I shouldn't have." She's shaking her head, eyes closed, and her hands in a fist with your shirt enclosed in them. You know no matter what you say, she won't listen to it, so you just rub her sides.

"You saved me, Els. I'm home because of you." She nods her head and glances down at you, cupping your cheeks.

"I would have never stopped until you were."

You nod back, "I know." You pull her down so your faces are level and kiss her, taking her by surprise. Of course, she returns the kiss, and it's so soft, so comforting, familiar and safe.

Ellie changes into sweats and a t-shirt quickly so she can help you get into your clothes, which is the exact same thing as she's wearing, and get you under the covers faster. Once you both are changed, she holds up the blankets so you can slide under, and once you're settled you let your head hit the pillow and close your eyes. You breathe deeply, calming your heart, and trying to force your mind to settle down. Ellie's arms snake around you, pulling you close to her chest.

"I'm never leaving you again."

You smile, and kiss right above her collarbone where your head is resting against her chest.

"I don't doubt it."

[spacehero-23]

TSC as The Tortured Poets Departament 🪶📜🤍

Ngl, some of them were really hard and some clicked right away. But i’m pretty proud of it. Let me know what you think! 

Fortnite - Matthew Fairchild - I love you, it’s ruining my life

The Tortured Poets Departament - James and Cordelia  

My boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys - Charles and Alastair

Down Bad - Kit and Ty

So Long, London - Robert and Maryse

But Daddy I Love Him - Annabel - "Stay away from her" The saboteurs protested too much

Fresh Out the Slammer - James Herondale - Fresh out the slammer, I know who my first call will be to

Florida!!! - Matthew Fairchild - Love left me like this and I don't want to exist. So take me to Florida

Guilty as Sin? - Julian and Emma - What if he's written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind?

Who’s Afraid Of Little Old Me? - Annabel Blackthorn - Then say they didn't do it to hurt me. But what if they did?

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can) - Valentine and Jocelyn

loml - Amatis Greymark 

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart - Izzy Lightwood - The lights refract sequin stars off her silhouette every night" I can show you

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived - James Herondale - And I don't even want you back, I just want to know If rusting my sparkling summer was the goal

The Alchemy - Thomas and Alastair - 'Cause the sign on your heart Said it's still reserved for me. Honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?

Clara Bow - Kit Herondale - “What kind of Herondale will you be? William or Tobias? Stephen or Jace? Beautiful, bitter, or both?”

The burden of being a Herondale. All those names you have to live up to.  Live up to the legend of Jace Herondale, the boy with the angel blood. Live up to James Herondale, the son your mother lost. See all the ways you’re similar, and all the ways you're not. Live up to the expectation of being the Lost Heir and live the burden that comes with that. And remember that one day another Herondale will come and they might feel the same way about you.

This was really fun! And i am planning on making part with The Anthology 🤍