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lilsocksiswriting · 5 months

Text

Fandom: Jujitsu Kaisen

Paring: Sukuna X Fem!reader

Summary:Sukuna was supposed to be helping you pack for your trip home for winter Break, a trip you really aren't looking forward to.

Warnings: NSFW, No Beta, minors DNI,

Tags: College/modern Au, fake stackage, littel fluff a the end

Word Count: 1.6K

Master list

Chapter Five || Chapter seven

You can feel Sukuna’s eyes on you, and you don’t really care. At least not right now. If you packed quickly enough then maybe you would have time to let yourself feel hot and bothered by his gaze. Right now you were squeezed halfway into your dorm room’s closet shifting through a pile of dark clothing looking for a pair of comfy leggings you really wanted to bring home with you.

“Have you called maintenance?”

You huff. Of course, you called them. Your jammed-siding door just seems to be at the bottom of their list. “Yes, I have. Like three times, I hope they come around to fix it over break.”

Your leggings weren’t in this pile. Mabey your dresser? You go to shuffle back out of the closet, but a pair of hands on your hip stops you.”Don’t”

“What?”

“Just stay like this for me yea, doll?”

His hands are quick to slip up the loose crop top you were in. They waste no time finding your bare breasts and giving them a nice squeeze.

“Fuck doll. Do you have any idea how good you look right now in nothing but this flimsy top and those cotton shorts? You look so fuckable right now stuck like this.”

you blink, Sukuna can’t see the confusion on your face but it’s evident in your voice,” I’m not stuck -ah!”

Sukuna gives your nipple a playful little pinch making both of them hard.

“Ok, but let’s say you are, you’re stuck here and so, so helpless. And how could I, being the arrogant sleaze bag I am, not take advantage of my cute little girlfriend being stuck like this with her ass up and all. Practically begging to be fucked aren’t ya doll?”

You’re still not sure what Sukuan was on about. You weren’t stuck. You could easily crawl backwards out of the closet and he could have his way with you on your bed. But this is… well something about it is hot and you aren’t too pressed to figure out why.

“Sukuna,” you rub your thighs together, wiggling your ass against the tent in his pants.

Sukuna lets a low groan slip from his lips. His hands slip back down gripping your hips. “You really want me to fuck you like this, Doll?”

You are nodding your head. You want him to hurry too because there was still packing to be done. Packing that you will not be able to focus on when this heat Sukuna’s ignited between your legs.

“Ah, ah, you gotta use your words remember?”

“I want you to fuck me Sukuna,” Your voice is tight, trying not to sound as needy as Sukuan has been able to make you feel with such little action.

“That’s a good girl. And if it gets too much for you?”

“I’ll tell you. Now please,” You are wiggling your ass again.

“It’s cute how you can get so needy for my cock so fast, but I can’t fuck you just yet,” Sukuna informs you making you give the tiniest wine. You don’t have time for that, you want him now.

You feel your shorts and panties being pulled down around your knees. You feel warm hands give your ass a good squeeze then one slip down between your legs. Knuckles graze your inner thigh. The silent command that you follow, spreading your legs for better access.

“You’re such a good girl,” Sukuna’s low praise makes you wetter.

He feels this wetness when he dips two fingers into you. Your moan sounds like a winey hum. Music to his ears as he curls his fingers inside you and drags them almost all the way out.

“What sort of lube you got? You’re so wet for me already but I don’t think it’ll be enough.”

You didn’t have lube. You had lubed condoms but there was no time for that,” Just put it in already~.”

Sukuan lands a sharp slap to your ass making your body jump, “You are in no position to be talking back doll.” Then goes back to dragging his finger in and out of you. “Now answer me.”

“I-I don’t got any…” you huff. He’s managing to find that one spot inside you that makes your legs feel like jelly.

“That’s too bad,” he says picking up the pace,” Looks like I get to play with this pretty pussy with my fingers and you’ll just have to make do.”

“Co-condoms! I have lubed condoms under my mattress,” and with no shame, you beg him, “Please hurry.”

“Stuck, helpless, and so eager to get fucked by a fat cock. Damn, doll could you be more perfect?”

You feel Sukuan pull away from you. Sure, enough when he lifts the corner of the mattress there is a roll of condoms. He wonders if you bought these after you two got together or if you always had them as a just-in-case measure. His smart, beautiful Y/N always prepared.

Ripping one of the condoms from the roll, Sukuna holds the foil wrapper between his teeth and yanks down his sweets.

“Sukuna,” You moan wagging your ass, so ready to be filled by his cock now that you didn’t care how needy you looked.

He feels his dick pulse in response. He rips open the wrapper with his teeth and slides it over his hard cock, giving it a few long strokes as he watches you wiggle your ass.

“So, fucking impatient,” he growls.

You feel his hands settle back on your hips and in the next second you feel Sukuna push into you. Your eyes roll back as you feel his stretch your pussy. Sukuan for his part hisses at how tight you are. He has to bully his dick into your tight, soft cunt.

“There we go,” he coos once he’s bottomed out.

Was he ever not going to feel like he was splitting in two? One thing was for sure, you will never get tired of the slight sting from it or the way you feel so full when he is inside you.

And when he begins to move, you almost collapse into the pile of clothes. Just as quickly as Sukuan fucks into you at a steady pace with his hands guiding your hips you become a moaning mess. It’s so fucking good. You’ve never been in this kinda position before down on your hands and knees unable to see the man fucking you, enveloped in darkness.

“Su-sukuna, oh god,” You mona before smothering your face into what felt like one of your black hoodies from one of your favorite bands.

Sukuna’s breath hitches when your ass is pushed up and ruts against his hips. He wants to hear all those cute noises you make when you're getting roughly stuffed. He is also aware of the little time you have left together. So, all though Sukuna would love to sit here and languidly thrust his cock into you while he watches you lose yourself over it, he has no time for such pleasures.

One of his hands takes a fist full of the back-cropped shirt. With one hard yank, you pull up just enough that you can no longer muffle your moans in the pile of fabric.

“I want to hear all the sweet noises you make while you get fucked like this Doll.”

“Sukuna~” You spread your legs a little more asking for more.

And Sukuna is more than happy to comply. Thank god your roommate has already left for the holidays. Your small bedroom I filled with the harsh slaps of your boyfriend’s hips meeting your ass and your cries of pleasure.

“Shit, you’re really loving this aren’t ya doll?”

“Yes, yesyesyes, fuck~” you moan, and if that wasn’t enough your body agreed. You feel how you hug around his cock and how it doesn't slow him down from pumping in and out of you. ”Sukuna, Sukuna m’gonna cum,”

“Then you do just that Doll, you cum all over-fuck!” Sukuan demands are cut short by your high pitch wines and hot, slippery cunt clamp around him.

Your own orgasm brought Sukuna to his own. If only you could see how the man’s jaw goes slack and his head tips back. You can feel his dick twitches inside you and he feels the condom with his load of cum.

Your knees hurt. That’s the first thing that you notice when you come back around. Oh, right you're halfway in your closet looking for a pair of leggings. The second thing that comes to mind is that you really need to leave soon. Or….you could purposely leave late, or you could tell Sukuna that you forgot something and have to turn back halfway to the airport, or you could just miss your flight, and have to get another one. No, you can’t. What would your family think if you missed your flight?

“Doll?” Sukuna’s soft voice reached your ears. His thumb strokes the bars, the soft skin of your hip. He doesn’t want to pull out and let go until he’s sure you won’t collapse.

You buy your face into the pile of clothing and take a breath, inhaling the scent of your perfume. So, these had been the pile of dirty clothes. You don’t want Sukuan to pull out, not just yet. You want to stay like this a little longer because when he does pull out it means you have to go back home.

You pull your face away from the pile, “If I’m late because you couldn’t keep in your pants we’re breaking up.”

Sukuna laughs and slaps your ass, ”There’s my girl.”

You smile and your stomach flips, ‘my girl’.

Once you get cleaned up and all evidence of what just transpired is through in the bathroom’s trashcan you get back to franticly packing, but still stop here and there to kiss Sukuan softly. When he asks why you are being so affectionate you tell him, “Just getting a few more kisses to hold me over.”

#privet stacks #sukuna x y/n #jjk sukuna #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna #jjk #jjk itadori #jjk imagines #jjk x reader

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 2 years

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I Think He Did It

Summary: The reader and Dean’s neighbor from their apartment building is strangely killed one day but Dean assures her everything is fine. When a cop comes by later though and the reader catches him in a lie, she finds out something about Dean he’d rather have stayed hidden...

Pairing: Serial Killer!Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,900ish

Warnings: language, mention of murder

A/N: Felt like diving back into this AU. Enjoy!

_______

“Hey Winchester,” you said as you got back from your walk. Dean was smiling as he got his mail out of the delivery. “You know what’s up with all the cop cars?”

“Apparently some guy on the first floor got murdered,” he said.

“Here?” you said.

“No. Somewhere else I guess. They said the building is safe and everything,” he said. You nodded and got your mail from the box, Dean chuckling to himself. “You look kinda freaked.”

“I kinda am,” you said. “Did we know him?”

“1D?” he asked and you shook your head. “Yeah. I didn’t either. Why don’t you crash at Robbie’s place tonight? Might make you feel better.”

“Yeah, Robbie and I are like officially done with once and for all,” you said. You grabbed an amazon package that was a little too big for you, Dean grabbing the other end. “Thanks.”

“I thought you were working things out?” he asked.

“He still lies to me, even over little crap. I’m not being with a liar,” you said. “On the plus side you can come hang out again without Robbie treating you like a dick.”

“Well that will be nice,” he said.

“You could come over tonight if you want,” you said, getting into the elevator with him. He smiled and hit the third floor button, leaning back against the wall.

“I could stay the night on your couch,” he said. “It’d make me feel better about you over there all by yourself.”

“Thank you,” you said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m very scared as you can tell,” he smirked. You rolled your eyes and walked down the hall towards your apartments. You let yourself in and Dean helped set the box down on your counter. “We’ll have a sleepover. It’ll be fun. I’ll swing over around seven.”

“Dean?” you asked as he turned to go. “You’re positive it wasn’t here that it happened?”

“I promise,” he said with a soft smile. “The cops said it was other side of town. I honestly think they’re just checking his place for...whatever, you know?”

“Yeah,” you said with a nod as he opened his apartment, his tile floor marked up with something.

“We live on the third floor, you need to know the code to get in and you know that if you’re ever in trouble, I will bust through that door, okay? Try not to think about it sweetheart.”

“Yeah. Maybe he was like a drug dealer or something.”

“Maybe,” said Dean. “I’ll catch you later, Y/N.”

“Later Dean.”

“Did you see about that guy on the news?” you said that night while you ate some takeout next to Dean at your counter.

“What’d they say?” asked Dean between bites.

“Total creeper. Sounds like he’s attacked people before. I don’t even feel bad that he got killed now,” you said.

“World works in mysterious ways,” he said, a knock coming at your door. “I’ll get it.”

“My knight in shining armor,” you teased as he hopped over to the door.

“Hello officer,” said Dean.

“Mr. Winchester. I thought you were across the hall...” said the officer, pulling out his notepad.

“I am,” he said as you ducked under Dean’s arm.

“Hi. This is my apartment. Dean’s across the hall from me,” you said, the officer nodding.

“Right. Ms. Y/L/N correct?” he asked.

“Mhm,” you said, glancing to Dean.

“He’s just gonna ask what you did last night, if you heard anything. Her answer’s gonna be the same as mine though considering we hung out last night and all,” said Dean.

“Oh right,” said the officer, shaking his head. “Should have thought of that. Long day.”

“I bet,” said Dean.

“Here’s a card if you know of anything,” said the officer with a yawn. “Sorry to disturb your evening.”

“Never a problem officer,” said Dean. He shut the door and locked up, going back to his food as you cocked your head. “What’s up?”

“We didn’t hang out last night,” you said, crossing your arms.

“Yeah we did silly,” he chuckled.

“Uh, no. We didn’t,” you said.

“Yeah we did. We hung out over here, had a few drinks. You were pretty tired.”

“No. I watched three episodes of Hell’s Kitchen before I went to bed,” you said. You narrowed your eyes and he rolled his. “Dean.”

“We watched that together. Did you like...maybe take some medicine before we drank or something?” he asked. You looked back at the door and then at him, Dean out of his chair and looking down at you. “We hung out last night, Y/N. You’re just forgetting.”

“No I’m not,” you said. He looked down and took a deep breath. “Why did you lie to that officer?”

“Why didn’t you correct him if you think I lied?” he asked.

“Why do you need an alibi?”

“I was simply stating facts.”

“You lied to a cop investigating a murder. I want to know why.”

“What, you think I did it?” he laughed. “That’s a good one. I don’t even go hunting with my dad and uncle and they love that shit. I couldn’t kill anything.”

“Kill anything or kill anything innocent?” you said.

“What exactly are you saying?” he asked. He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at you, walking until his chest was pressed to yours.

“I think you did it,” you said.

“You watch too many movies.”

“What’d you do last night Dean?”

“Hung out with you.”

“Tell me the truth or I scream so loud that cop comes running back.”

“I had a personal issue to attend to and I did and then I hung out with you.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“Don’t ask for the truth when we both know you don’t want it.”

“Was that blood on your floor earlier? When you went back to your place?”

“Go look for yourself,” he said. You huffed and left your apartment, picking up Dean’s spare key and letting yourself into his place. It was dark and the door shut quietly behind you.

You weren’t prepared to be shoved up against the wall, a hand over your mouth. You stared at him, his eyes shutting.

“He was gonna hurt you so I stopped that from happening. You want to turn me in for that, fine,” he said. He let go of you and you brushed past him, running your hands over your face. “I’m sure that cop is still here if you want to go tell him.”

“Dean how many others,” you said, your hands on your hips.

“What?”

“How many others,” you said. “The news said this guy’s death followed a pattern. A serial killer. How many Dean?”

“Twelve.”

“Fuck Dean,” you said. “Fuck. You’re not a serial killer. You’re Dean. You’re my go to guy, neighbor, Dean. You can’t…”

“I can be,” he said.

“Why?”

“I enjoy it.” You swallowed and he shook his head. “I’ve never harmed an innocent person in my life.”

“Who gave you the right to be the judge of everyone?”

“No one gave it to me. I took it,” he said. “My own mother was killed by a monster while I was home and hid under the bed. So I kill monsters and I like it and that’s who I am. So go ahead and go back to your apartment and call the cops on me. I would have have killed that guy a thousand times over no matter the outcome.”

“You’re a serial killer.”

“Yes, I am.”

You took a few deep breaths, Dean scrunching up his face at you.

“Why are you still here?” he asked.

“What was that guy gonna do to me.”

“He had a key to your apartment made up. I don’t imagine it was going to be pleasant for you.”

“Was that blood on your floor earlier?”

“No. Jam from when I dropped my toast,” he said. “Nothing happened here. It doesn’t explain why you haven’t called the cops yet.”

“Do I need to call the cops?” you asked. He shook his head and you nodded. “Then let’s go finish our dinner before it gets cold.”

“Are you serious?” he asked.

“Well I’m not afraid of you and you did protect me and if those other guys were like this one then we don’t have a problem at all. Understand?”

“If I’m ever caught, it makes you an accomplice.”

“You gonna get caught?” you asked.

“No,” he said. You nodded and went back to your apartment, Dean locking up after you. You ate for a moment, Dean pursing his lips. “You know it’s more than twelve. That’s just what was on the news.”

“How many?”

“Nineteen. Some people aren’t news worthy,” he said.

“Do you make people suffer?” you asked. He shook his head. “What do you do?”

“Injection to knock ‘em out and then enough drugs to put down a horse. They don’t even feel it,” he said.

“Why?”

“Because I like stopping monsters. I don’t get off on carving someone up,” he said. You nodded and slid part of the pie you’d ordered for dessert over to him. “That it?”

“For now,” you said. He smirked and stabbed the pie with his fork. “What?”

“Here I thought things would never get past the friendship stage between the two of us.”

“There’s no more secrets right?”

“I have a crush on you,” he said. “And for the love of God stop going for walks or runs at night. Go use the gym downstairs. You give me anxiety keeping an eye on you I swear.”

“You follow me?”

“Well when you told me your running route and I pay attention to police reports more than the average person, yeah, I followed you. You’re like a magnet for bad people.”

“Not all bad people,” you said, taking a piece of pie for yourself. “Do me a favor and talk to me about stuff like that from now on, okay?”

“I can do that,” he said. “Are we okay?”

“Well today has been eventful,” you said. “But we’re okay. You can even take me out to dinner tomorrow.”

“I can do that too sweetheart,” he said with a smile. “I gotta ask though. Do you think I’m a monster for doing what I do?”

“Monsters don’t save people,” you said, eating another piece of pie. “So no, I don’t.”

“Okay,” he said quietly. “Thanks.”

“Thank you Dean. I owe you one.”

“You don’t owe me anything at all sweetheart. I promise.”

__________

#spn #supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean x #dean x reader #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #serial killer au #serial killer!dean

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pensat-i-fet · 1 year

Text

A bonding trip, Part 2 (Mason Mount x Reader)

Part 1

Word count: 2154

Masterlist

Wattpad

“We are lost”.

“How Mount? How did we get lost?”

And I guess we are back to square one.

“Well, the map said…”, he tries to defend himself.

“I can’t believe you. I told you what to do, but no, you had to believe your instincts and now I follow you to help you and we are both lost”.

My attempts to connect my phone to any wifi are futile. We are in the middle of nowhere and only have a map that is worthless. Fantastic.

“What time is it?”

“6.30”, I answer. “It’ll get dark soon. How are they going to find us?”

“They will. They can’t let me here alone to die”.

“You’re doing it again, Mount”.

“What am I doing?”

“Making it all about you”, I tell him, rolling my eyes.

“You know what I meant. They’ll want to find both of us”.

An hour passes and no one is there. And then two hours and…still nothing.

“Should we try to move around a bit to see if there is something that shows us where we are?”, I suggest. “Mason?”

But when I turn to look at him, I struggle to find him in the dark. He is sitting on a rock, looking at the ground.

“Are you ok?”

“No. You’re lost because of me. We are going to have to spend the night here. What if something happens?”

“We’ll be fine. I’ve camped in the woods before”.

“I’m sorry”, he says but it comes almost as a whisper.

“It’s ok. It could have happened to anyone…”.

“No, it happened to me because I wanted to impress you but I should have let you guide us. You’re better at it than me. Like you were better at shooting and painting yesterday”.

“And like I am at football?”, I try to joke to break the ice.

“In your dreams”, he jokes back.

Seeing that he’s doing a bit better, I go up to get my emergency backpack.

“We got some food, a torch, blankets…”.

“Of course, you thought of picking one of those up”, he says.

“You should appreciate how lucky you are being paired with me”.

“I always have”.

I really cannot deal with these conflicting feelings while being lost in the woods. So I start to organize everything we have so we can have our dinner. It doesn’t look very appetising but we don’t get to choose from a gourmet menu tonight.

“Should we try making a fire?”

“Mason, you’ll end up burning the whole forest. It’s not even that cold. The blankets will be fine. Let’s try to find a smooth surface to lay down”.

We do find it and get the blankets ready. I’m actually not sure this will be enough to keep us warm but again, no more options.

“I’m cold”, says Mason.

“Just close your eyes and try to sleep”.

Stupid advice, keeping in mind mine are wide open. But at least the sky looks beautiful with all the stars shining bright. So I got a nice view.

“I’ll die because of how cold it is. How can you be so mean?”

“Stop whining, Mount. What am I supposed to do?”

“Come closer”.

Hell no.

“Why?”

“Body heat”.

I turn to give him a look. “It’s not that cold”.

“I’m cold. I swear”.

I shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t…

“Ok”.

I move to get closer to Mason but I still stay on my back. He can get body heat from my arm, I guess. My leg too?

“That’s not going to do it, is it?”

I can’t face him right now, so I turn on my side and let him hug me from behind.

“You can relax”, he whispers. And the fact that his breath is caressing my neck when he speaks is not helping me relax…at all.

I try to convince myself that this is just us surviving. We would be doing this with anyone just so we can stay warm. But then he starts to draw circles on my arm with his cold fingers and my meditation is interrupted.

But, somehow, I end up falling asleep.

The sound of people yelling wakes us up. The sun is already out and shining bright. So bright that it takes me a second to be able to properly open my eyes and see the position I’ve been sleeping in for God knows how long.

Now Mason is on his back, still embracing me with his arms. And my head ended up on his chest somehow. And I also can’t explain how our legs ended up tangled up but they did.

“Mason, wake up”, I tell him, sitting up and finally being able to work out what the yelling is all about. It’s people looking for us. “They’ve found us”.

I get up and stretch before yelling back at them so they know where we are.

“We are saved”, says Mason, dramatically falling back on the ground.

By the time we are back to the camp, I just want to shower and lay down on a real bed. My entire body hurts.

But then I see him.

“Connor?”

I run towards him and hug him tightly. It’s been so long since the last time we saw each other.

“Hey, you. I was told you were lost in the woods. What on earth was that about?”

“Mount’s fault. But I’m back now”.

We are still laughing and catching up when I see Mason walking past us and frowning.

“Can you convince them to let you stay with me today? There is no way I can do any activities and I don’t want to be alone”.

“You could stay with Mount”, says Connor, laughing at his own comment. He still doesn’t know we now get on well with each other.

“I rather stay with you”.

“Then you will. What do you want to do?”

Connor and I spend the day in my cabin playing games, reading and just watching some shows. It’s all I needed after my little adventure in the woods.

But I also wonder what Mason is up to. I didn’t see him at breakfast, but maybe he decided to go with the others to take part in today’s activities.

“Should we go have dinner? I think everyone’s back”, asks Connor.

“Yes, let’s go”.

We see a couple of groups arriving, laughing loudly.

“What did you do today?”, I ask.

“Paintball. So sad you missed it”, says Pernille.

“That’s a bummer. It’s so much fun. We’ll have to organize another match when we are in London”.

“We missed you there”, tells me Azpi. “It would have been so much more fun with you and Mason shooting each other”.

“Who got to kill him?”

“No one. He didn’t come with us”.

So he was there but didn’t ask to spend time with me? Well, with Connor and with me. I don’t know why but that bothers me.

I join the same group I always eat with for dinner, but now it includes Connor. Thankfully, the girls don’t mind him being there.

But by the time we are done eating, I want some alone time. So I excuse myself to go for a little walk.

“Don’t get lost again!”

I make sure to go to the areas I know well and it’s there I find Mason.

“Hey, I didn’t see you today”.

He lifts his head to look at me quickly before going back to looking at his phone. “You were busy”.

“Yeah”, I laugh. “I’m really happy Connor is back”.

I look at him when he doesn’t say anything and see him scrolling on Instagram, but not really looking at anything.

“You ok, Mount?”

“Sure”.

That doesn’t sound very sincere. His tone and his posture show me I’m not someone he wants to talk with. So I excuse myself and go back to my room.

And even though I think I’ll sleep really well, I can only think about Mason and his reaction to me. Why is he acting like that?

The last day in Scotland is pretty boring. We don’t have much to do and spend half of the morning packing and getting ready to leave.

A part of me is hoping Mason will ask me to sit next to him on the flight home but when I see him next to Kai, I just shake my head and sit with Connor.

Being back in London means the real pre-season can finally start. And it’s kicking my ass with the double training sessions.

“Oh, hi! Sorry, I’ll leave”.

Mason just got inside the room where I’m taking an ice bath and I wish I could stop him from leaving but quick movements inside of this bath mean agony so I just yell at him.

“Mount! Come here. You don’t have to leave”.

“I don’t want to bother you”.

“You won’t, really”.

I try not to sound too much like I’m begging him to stay with me. But I want him to do it. He hasn’t spoken to me since we came back from Scotland and I really don’t get it. We were fine the morning we were rescued in the woods.

“You alright?”, I ask him while he gets in his bath.

“Yeah”, he says, shivering and making me laugh.

“We always find ourselves in the nicest situations, huh?”

But instead of answering, he just looks at me and then back at the floor.

“Mason, is there a reason why you are so cold with me right now?”

“You didn’t mind it when it was you doing it”.

I can see he’s trying to sound sarcastic and snarky but he sounds…hurt?

“Did I do something to offend you? Was it…was it because of what happened in the woods?”

That finally makes him look at me. “What happened in the woods?”

“Well, you know”, he’s really going to make me say it. “We slept together. Like, not as in having sex but…you know. I thought maybe you felt weird after that”.

The way he’s staring at me now makes me want to look away, but I won’t. I need an answer.

“No, sleeping next to you isn’t the reason I’m avoiding you”.

“So you recognize you have been avoiding me”.

“Anyone could notice that”, he says, rolling his eyes. “I was actually just trying to make everything easier for you”.

“How?”

“Well, you clearly hated being that close to me. You were so stiff, I was worried you would injure yourself”.

“It wasn’t…I wasn’t…”.

“It’s fine. I got it the next day. And don’t worry. I won’t tell Connor”.

Wait a minute…

“What does this have to do with Connor?”

“You two are together”.

The laugh that comes out of me is such that I end up moving too much and then the laugh is replaced by pain. Stupid ice baths.

“Connor and I aren’t together, Mason”.

“Don’t lie to me. When you saw him, you ran to him and jumped in his arms. And then you spent the whole day in your room. Do you expect me to believe you were playing board games? Either you’re together or are fuck buddies or…I don’t care. I just…I won’t bother you two. Don’t worry”.

I can’t help but look at his flushed face and smile. He really is an idiot.

“Are you jealous, Mount?”

“Yes!”

And that only makes the smile wider.

I turn to get my towel and get out of the bath slowly before making my way to his.

“What are you doing?”

But before he has time to say more, I get inside his bath, which isn’t really the best idea but I don’t care.

“Connor and I are just friends and yes, we were playing board games, you stupid silly boy”, I say, putting my arms around his neck. “And I was stiff when you wanted to sleep so close to me because I like you and being near you like that was only making my feelings more obvious to me. And I didn’t want to embarrass myself”.

“Oh”.

“Yes, oh”, I laugh, getting even closer to him. “I never hated you. But I always liked you. Do you like me back?”

“Yes”, he says, breathless.

“Just yes?”, I tease.

“Yes. I like you. And I always have. And if you and Connor aren’t together, you better kiss me right now or I’ll die".

I laugh at his comment, enjoying this teasing way more than I should.

“What would you do if I don’t kiss you, then?”

“I could tell you or I could show you”.

“Show me, then”.

And he does. He closes the distance between us and presses his lips against mine. One, then twice…until I’m too tired of him trying to tease me now, so I grab the sides of his face with my hands to kiss him properly. Like I should have done it a while ago.

#mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount x reader #mason mount fluff #mason mount one shot #enemies to lovers #football imagine #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #footballer fanfiction #footballer angst #mason mount angst #footballer one shot

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kavaeroexe · 2 years

Note

Yandere Star Wars someone hurting their so?

S/O going to be on their full protection yeyeye

Stand back

Yandere!Star wars x reader

summary: You’re getting an injury and you need to retreat, what will they do?

warning: typos, bad grammar

attention! please do not try to repost my works, I only post my works on Tumblr, if anyone see someone stole my works please inform me through the comments, tag me in the works, or message me!

Anakin Skywalker

I’m pretty much sure he’ll fight faster and get you hidden as fast as possible

He’ll make sure to put you in a comfortable position if he needs to continue fighting the droid so he can open a way for both of you to get out

If you’re able to look at Anakin’s behavior while fighting, you could see his moves and his face is filled with rage, but you’re getting hut, you only focused to stay alive and relying yourself on him

let’s just say, he can’t control his anger the second he finds you getting shot by the droids

so why doesn’t he destroy them all?

with that much power pushed by anger and revenge for you, it’s easy to take care of such a mere droid.

he could never forgive those who hurt you.

but his mood changes when he approaches you and looks at you, he doesn’t want to scare you.

“You okay? alright keep your eyes open, we’re not far from the ship”

if you can’t walk, he’ll carry you in piggyback ride position or bridal style depending on the location of your injuries.

while resting on the medbay or on the ship, he’ll comfort you 24/7

“hold on dear, just hold on, look at me, don’t worry”

“you’re the one worrying so much Anakin”

“Well because if you do, I don’t know what should I do next”

Obi-wan Kenobi

this man is caring

retreat as soon as possible together so he could give you first treatment, then if he could avoid fighting, he’ll try to avoid it, but if he can’t he’ll guide you getting out and taking care of the rest

he wants you to avoid the battlefield as fast as possible

so you could get treatment faster.

well he doesn’t do revenge

correction- not now

I mean if it’s droid then maybe he’ll let it pass

but someone recognizable? mhm mhm

yeah he will remember their face forever, until they’re dead, at least.

the next time he meets the one who hurt you the last time, he’ll make sure they’re dead.

like dead. he needs to see them dead in front of his eyes

but when it’s the time you get your treatment he’ll be on your side all of the time until you feel better

but you both don’t make physical contact, to avoid people knowing about your relationship.

“You’re okay, you’re going to be okay, it’s fine, hang on”

he’ll feel bad because he can’t hold your hand to calm you down, but you both want to avoid the risk, so you’re fine with that

it’s just him that feels bad

so when you’re able to get out from the medbay, and in a private time, he’ll hold you and make sure he doesn’t touch your injuries at all to make you feel comfortable.

it’s not you who asked to be cuddled and hold, it’s him that needs reassurement that you’re fine, that you’re now able to be in his arms, honestly he does it without him even realizing, he does that to make himself feel better.

because I’m sure he’s scared inside, it’s just his face and feeling don’t match each other lmao

the next time you go on a mission, he’ll question whether you really need to go to the mission, even though you’re with him.

but when you said yes, he’ll let you go, but told you to inform him before and after you start your mission.

next time something like that happened again, guess he needs to start using the strict way instead, just to keep you safe.

Luke Skywalker

he’ll panic inside and outside the moment you get injured

“OH SHIT Y/N RETREAT RETREAT”

Honestly he made the situation get worse

Han would scold him later like “DON’T PANIC IN FRONT OF THE ENEMY, IT’LL HELP THEM KILL YOU”

“BUT Y/N GET SHOT”

“IT’S NOT LIKE THERE ARE NO OTHER PEOPLE TO HELP THEM, THERE’S ME, LEIA, AND THEMSELF TO HELP THEMSELF.”

“da kark stop screaming or I’ll shove your mouth with this lightsaber like you sucking di-”

retreat as fast as possible

at one point he’s confused about whether to retreat or fight until the end, blame the pressure around him ngl

okay maybe this one fits for ANH Luke

but I’ll give you the ROTJ Luke that suits Yandere Luke...

I mean he’s still panicking, but he knows what to do

place you somewhere safe, place a kiss on your forehead before he’s back to the battlefield to open a way or maybe... fulfilling his revenge that he doesn’t even realize it’s a revenge

he’s stupid I know

sometimes he’s ignoring the whole karking Jedi code without him even realizing

has I told you guys he’s stupid?

but not really that kind of stupid, I must say.

but he’s a sweet, gentlemen, perfect man so I forgive him.

“Stay here alright? I’ll meet you again soon, in a blink of your eye”

cheesy of him but he kept his words

he fasts af bro

you blink the second time, he already carrying you, holding you tightly, placing another kiss on your forehead the second time to calm you down

honestly he’s calming himself by kissing you

very much like Obi-wan

like padawan like the master.

when you get your treatment, he holds your hand most of the time, making sure to you that you’ll be fine

once again he’s just couraging himself that you will be fine, just to calm himself down.

Din Djarin (my first time writing him I’m sorry)

this man was confused about which one to do first

treat you or vanishing the enemies

sometimes he picks it randomly

okay maybe based on your injuries

but for your information, he’ll make you retreat even though you only got a scratch

because his theory would be like: you get hurt - stay fighting will make you lose focus because of the injury -> get hurt even more -> dies -> he’ll be alone.

well.

what can I say?

just because he seems calm every time on his job or needs to fight doesn’t mean he’s not panicking.

but behind that tin helmet and his face, I’m 100% sure that he’s super panicking like it’s the end of the world

but you’re his world though...

his feelings and face don’t match him like Obi-wan

he doesn’t care anything at the moment but you

so when they’re able to be back, he’ll immediately grab bacta spray and other supplies

told you to rest

no, don’t even think to get up from where you are

if you need anything just ask him

just don’t. get. up.

“Sleep, you’ll need that for tomorrow”

he’ll hold you in the middle of the night for a moment

he felt grateful you’re still here with him

and the morning, he’ll not wake you up until you wake up by yourself

he also prepares medical supplies in case there might be some other injuries that you don’t even realize yesterday.

he prepares breakfast too

force you to eat them all

he even shares his portion

caring guy <3

will not let you go on a mission or hunting for the next 2-3 weeks.

Fennec Shand (Not as bad as Din ones cause I got a friend with an exact personality like her)

this woman will shoot everyone in her sight and then calm you down

“stay here, I’ll be right back.”

at first she only wants to open a way so you both could retreat, but she just can’t control herself being mad at the enemy, I mean not just the one that hurt you, but every single one of it.

yes, everyone.

no mercy for yandere Fennec

but sometimes she realizes that she still has you to take care so she’ll end up just opening that way for you

when she helps you walk away from the battlefield, I could feel like she’s shooting one of the dead corpses, just in case

even though they’re truly dead, she still hasn’t satisfied yet.

if her enemy seeks revenge...

don’t worry, she already prepared herself

because she seeks revenge as well lmao

this time she has no mercy

yeah she never got any mercy for the enemy before

the difference is she got more brutal and violent

and everyone dead

happy ending

but when she comes back, she’ll be by your side throughout the recovery

sweet Fennec exists for her darling only

yey

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harlowsbby · 2 years

Note

Cuddling on a rainy day with Urb 🌧️

Rainy blues

“Urban?” You whispered and tried your best to look for your phone in the dark hotel room without waking Urban up but you were positive he was sleeping on your phone.

“Urban wake up.” You shook him slightly and tried removing his hands from you but he wasn’t budging.

“No lay back down.” He mumbled and brought you back into his bare chest, you huffed and started wiggling around in his arms but Urban’s grip tightened a bit more.

“Urban you better let me go or else.” You threatened but he wasn’t lying up he smirked and opened his eyes.

“Or else what baby?”

“Or else.. or else I won’t give you kisses for a month straight how about that.”

“You can’t just threaten me like that baby you know your kisses are my weakness.”

“So let me get up so I can try and find my phone I think you’re sleeping on it and besides I have to start getting ready for work.” Urban checked the weather on his phone and saw that it’ll be raining all day today and tomorrow as well and he was going to make sure you weren’t going anywhere.

“Baby no stay in bed with me let’s just have a lazy day in bed and do nothing.” Rolling your eyes you placed your hands on your hips.

“Urban you know I can’t do that even though I really want to. I have work today and then I’ll be off for the next week and I’m all yours.” You walked over towards the bathroom switching the light switch on before brushing your teeth.

While you were brushing your teeth Urban had snuck up behind you and grabbed your waist.

“Please baby just callout for me and you can start your vacation now.” His bottom lip poked out and he pouted trying his best to make you feel bad. You turned around in his arms so that you were facing him, with your arms crossed over your chest you sighed, what were you going to do with this big baby of a man.

“Fine Urban I’ll callout but this will be the only and last time I’m calling out.

“Oh thank you thank you baby I’ll order us some chinese food and we got snacks downstairs so you go shower and I’ll set everything up.” You smiled and kissed Urban’s cheek before going to shower.

After your shower you did your hair and face care routine, once stepping out of the bathroom you started tearing up. Urban had the room dark the only light coming from the tv and the candles he had lit. Your stomach growled smelling the chinese food and seeing all the different snacks laid out.

“Urban this is everything I love this.” You smiled and he blushed and laid in bed as you crawled over to him.

“Thank you baby I just wanted to do something a little special for my girl and besides it’s raining out I just wanna cuddle in bed with you all day.”

“Well I don’t mind staying inside all day and cuddling. What are we watching first?” Urban laid his back on the bed frame with you sitting in between his legs, munching away on some popcorn.

“What about the princess and the frog”

“You know me so well.” He smiled and leaned down kissing the top of your head before enjoying some snacks as well. The rest of the day you two didn’t move a inch. Being in bed with Urban all day during a cold and raining day was one of the best days ever.

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #urban wyatt concept #urban wyatt blurb

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s-creations · 4 months

Text

26 Ways to Feel Mortal - W: Withdraw

26 Chapters based around experiences that newly arrived Geno experiences while trying to find the Star Pieces.

Fandom: Super Mario & Releated Fandoms, Super Mario RPG Rating: Teen and UP Audiences Relationship: Mario/Geno (Nintendo), Mario/Princess Peach (Nintendo) Additional Tags: Rating for Teen needed for later chapters, but shouldn't be to worrisome, I'll have warnings if I'm worried, Poly relations!, Main characters will always be named, Minor characters will arrive as needed, the chapters are not in a specific order, just meets the needs of the given word, please be aware of spoilers.

Withdraw: (verb) Remove or take away (something) from a particular place or position.

“Geno?”

Said puppet didn’t look up. Quietly berating himself for not hiding himself away better. But also knew Mario would have found him eventually.

Geno closed himself off further as Mario sat next to him.

“You, um, you missed dinner,” Mario started off softly, “I saved you a bit though. It’s a Toad Town specialty. Really something you can’t miss.”

That hit harder than what Mario meant, no doubt. Geno clenched his jaw to keep himself quiet. Even as the sorrow crept up his throat.

“Um, Peach was hoping to show you around? The locals are curious about the hero from the stars. Or, well, the hero who is a Star. Suppose that’s more accurate, right?”

Geno was thankful that his cape could hide the upper portion of his body. So Mario couldn’t see how hard Geno was clasping his hands together.

“Did I do something wrong?”

That caused Geno to finally snap his attention to Mario. The human looking away, dejected eyes staring at the ground.

“You’ve been really quiet recently and you don’t interact with any of us anymore. At least, not like you used to. You stay near the back. You’re so focused on battling. You’re barely eating anymore. Did something happen? Did…Did I make a mistake?”

When Mario looked up his face fell from confusion to panic.

Geno suddenly realized he was crying now.

Said puppet turned as quickly as he could to rub his eyes furiously.

“Geno-”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re clearly not!”

“Just drop it.”

“No.”

“Mario…”

“Talk to me, please.”

“I can’t…”

“You know I’m here for you.”

“I can’t…”

“Geno-”

“I have to leave!”

Geno didn’t mean to shout. Or stand. Now towering over a wide eyed Mario.

“Don’t you get that? Once we get the final Star Piece, I have to leave. I have to go back to help build Star Road and I can’t come back. I have to leave all of this behind! I have…I have to leave you.”

Geno’s resolve crumbled away. Unabashedly crying as he allowed his sorrow to pull him down. Mario able to catch Geno quickly and hold him close.

“I know, I know it will hurt because it already does,” Geno sobbed, “I know it’ll be so much worse. I figured, if I pulled away, it wouldn’t hurt. If I just broke away, it would be easier for everyone. But it still hurts…”

“You need to trust me when I say that’s not going to work,” Mario whispered softly, “You’ve made everyone worry and hurt yourself more than you meant to.”

Geno hiccuped as he buried himself into the crook of Mario’s neck. “I don’t want to leave.”

“...Do you really have to?”

“I need to make sure the road’s built again. I need to know wishes can be granted again. They’ll need my help.”

“Then…I’ll wish for you to come back.”

Geno pulled away to stare in disbelief at Mario’s words, “What?”

“I’ll wish for you to come back ,” Mario stated simply again, “You’d be able to grant that, right?”

“...O-Of course.”

“Then I’ll wish. I’ll wish every night for you to come back here. Even if it takes weeks, months, years, I’ll wish and wait. And until the end, when you have to go back, we need to celebrate however many days you have left here. Yeah? No more hiding away anymore.”

Geno let out a small whine and nodded.

“Okay… Do you want to go back?”

“...Can we stay here for a little longer?”

Mario smiled softly, “Sure, I’ll give you as much time as I can give.”

#geno smrpg #geno #mario #mallow #princess peach #bowser #genario #s-creations #fanfiction

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wayward-sherlock · 1 year

Text

hi guys so i wrote this last night while listening to sad byler songs and feeling...feelings. so. um. enjoy.

tw for uh. its literally about a suicide letter so pls be careful. <3

“Mike,” Will said, voice breaking. “You can’t go. I-I just got you back.”

Mike shook his head. “You never lost me,” he said quietly, looking down at where he was holding Will’s hands in his. He pulled away, suddenly, and Will’s hands were left cold. “Wait, I uh…I actually have something for you.”

Will let his hands drop to his sides, squeezing them into fists. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Mike replied blankly, reaching up to his shirt pocket. He unbuttoned it and pulled out a piece of paper, to the sight of which he winced. “It’s um…it’s not much, and it got a little crushed, but i-it’s for you. I was trying to find a good time to give it to you, but no time like the present, right?”

Mike’s positive tone did nothing to mask the pain on his face, in his eyes. Will looked up at him, concern etched into his features. “Mike, I-“

“No,” Mike said firmly, bringing a hand up to Will’s mouth. “Nope, no. None of that. I’m only giving this to you because…well, you’ll see when you read it.”

Will nodded, taking the paper from Mike’s hand. His other hand was still covering Will’s mouth, and Mike looked at it, eyebrows dancing on his forehead like he couldn’t quite figure out how to feel.

Mike looked up at Will’s eyes, gulped, then looked back at his hand over Will’s mouth. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the back of his own hand, but it sent jolts of electricity through Will’s body regardless, just being in such close proximity. To finally feel Mike’s hair brush against his forehead, to watch as his eyes closed before Will, even though doing so pushed a tear out of the corner of his eyes and down his face.

Mike pulled his hand away carefully. “Um,” he said, and Will blinked at him. “That’s…I better get going, now.”

Will opened his mouth to protest, to beg Mike to stay, to say something, but nothing came out.

Will watched in silence as Mike walked out the door with only a small, meaningful glance back.

Will walked towards the wall to lean against it, only to slide down it when his back finally came into contact with the old wallpaper.

He looked down at his hands, at the paper there. He unfolded it, smoothed out the crinkles and began to read.

Dear Will…

It’s Hawkins, it hasn’t been the same without you…

I miss you…

I’ve been thinking a lot. Sometimes I wish I just couldn’t think anymore…

If you get this, I’m…

But please, if anyone will understand, it’ll be you. A person can lose the love of their life only so many times before they realize that they won’t ever come back…

I’ve lost you, Will. And in doing so, I lost myself. And I hate the person that I am, that I’ve become. I hate the person that I’ll be in five years, in ten years.

I hate the person I am without you.

And that day, when I found El in the woods? That was the worst day of my life. I had lost my best friend. And I’ve lost you again…

You are not the reason for this. It’s me. I can’t handle living a life where I move my little nuclear family to the end of the block. I can’t do it.

I wish we could’ve…fixed it, somehow. But I know we can’t. I ruined our relationship too thoroughly to even know where to start.

I’m so sorry, Will. You don’t deserve any of this.

Love, Mike

A tear dropped off of Will’s face and onto the paper—the letter.

And Will knew—deep in his heart, in his soul—that Mike had gone on that mission into the Upside Down with a purpose.

To never come back.

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kingkatsuki · 1 year

Text

☠︎ @trafalgar-temptress

Dabi / Todoroki Touya.

You’re such a kind, loving person and you keep trying to give your heart to these men who are never gonna deal with their own issues. Dabi won’t take your heart, but he’ll definitely take your pussy. Whether it’s an accident or pure talent, he’s got you cumming in every position imaginable and you’re not complaining (even if he’s maybe punctured a lung). He’ll even cuddle after, or maybe he’s just too lazy to move.. but he’s never there the next morning is he? It’s tiring really, I know you want to move in, get married and have that cosy perfect life… but you know deep down you won’t get that with Dabi, don’t you? Omg, babes don’t look at me like that, I know you know he’s not the settling down type. It’s a miracle he’s stayed with you for this long, there must be something special about you. But you can’t just let it go and be happy with what you’ve got, can you? Cause you won’t just settle, you want to be happy, even if that means another harsh argument about never knowing where he is or what he’s doing. But like I said, hun. I dunno what you expected when you picked this one. I think I’ve still got Mirio’s number somewhere, maybe we could give him a call?

Abarai Renji.

You know what, I’ll give you this one. He’s actually an alright guy. He’s a bit rough around the edges, but he means well. And he’s got such a big cock he’ll have you cumming and walking funny the next day, but please tell him the clit and the g-spot are not the same thing, I beg you! It must feel nice having someone dote on you, though? It makes a nice change from Dabi, and sometimes you’re lucky and he’s even there with you in the mornings! Things are looking good with this one, I almost don’t want to tell you why it won’t work. But I’m sure you’re gonna find out one way or another, so let me peel off the bandaid now. It’s you, I’m sorry girl, but it is. I mean, it’s not exactly a bad thing, but it doesn’t always help. You’re so confident you know exactly what you want after past relationships have failed, you’re pretty vocal when it comes to telling your partner. You’re independent, and you don’t shy away from explaining what you want and what you need from them, and honestly I admire that about you. But rather you than me… Renji won’t always get your hints, and he definitely doesn’t conform to the honeymoon phase. You’ll bicker and argue, and it’ll push him further and further away… but you know what if it doesn’t work with Renji you’ve got a whole list of men you can try with don’t you, babes. But Law wouldn’t do you like this, would he? (Well, actually he would—)

#jos toxic matchups #ask games #ask game

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late-to-the-magnus-archives · 11 months

Text

Rite: a Malevolent Fanfic

Spring: what better time to honor Shub-Niggurath, the Great Mother?

Arthur’s not thrilled with being tasked to start the "festivities" off with music. He’s even less thrilled that Hastur's efforts to call John to himself have exponentially increased.

Magic-drunk gods and difficult confessions lead to an impossible choice - one Arthur fears he is not strong enough to make.

(Takes place in the Surrogate series, after Misstep)

——-

“The spring rite is next week!”

The whispers are excited.

“Spring rite at home, at last! I was sick of traveling for it.”

The gossip is potent.

“You can’t wear that. Everybody’s already seen it.”

“This is the scent I’m planning—”

“Oh, fuck yeah, that’ll work.”

“Do you think he’ll provide mead?”

Mead. Scents. Clothing. It all adds up, but Arthur’s not sure to what.

He doesn’t think he wants to know to what.

I don’t fully remember, John says when asked. Something… I know it’s important? I remember good feelings; I remember the certainty of blessings from Shub-Niggurath after. Fertility, and all of that.

Oh, that doesn’t sound good. “Fertility?”

I’m sorry, Arthur. I just don’t remember. You could ask someone.

Arthur considers the way people have been speaking, the way John has described their behavior (“leering” comes up an awful lot of late), and shudders. “I’m not sure I have the courage. Let’s just… keep our heads down. Stay out of the way. Maybe it’ll pass us by, like a storm.”

Hastur doesn’t give that option.

He’s coming by daily now, checking on music, insisting on listening to every note—which he usually trusts to Arthur’s discretion.

Arthur hadn’t realized he was being trusted until that trust disappeared.

“No, that still isn’t right,” says Hastur, thoughtful and ponderous, and rests one heavy tentacle on Arthur’s left shoulder.

Arthur tries to shrug it away to no effect.

John reaches up, grips it with his left hand, and shoves.

And that, Arthur is certain, is the whole reason Hastur keeps doing it.

“Perhaps I should find you an… example,” says Hastur, as though that didn’t happen.

Arthur can’t feel it, but Hastur’s tendril must have touched his left hand, because John reacts. Suddenly and with no warning, Arthur’s left arm yanks right, across his chest, like trying to get away from a fire.

“John?” says Arthur.

I’m fine, John snaps.

“Ah, I know,” says Hastur, again as though that didn’t happen. “Here is the piece I want you to base the music for that night on.” He waves his tentacles, and music just starts playing in the air.

Arthur knows it. His jaw drops. “Are you serious?”

The touch is on his left arm this time (and Arthur feels it, and leans away). “Of course, Arthur. I also expect you to do it better. This is a very restricted version of what I want, after all.”

Seducing John. That’s what he’s doing. Or maybe just trying to be near him? Arthur shifts on the bench so he can face Hastur directly. “It’s inappropriate.”

What? Inappropriate? What, do they slaughter goats in the middle of it, or something?

“No, John,” says Hastur, positively syrupy now. “Not at all. Perhaps Arthur can explain it to you? I would be happy to, naturally, but I know you two prefer to find things out for yourselves.”

Pretentious prick, John mutters.

“You’d rather I explain? I thought we weren’t talking over Arthur’s head anymore.”

John doesn’t even yell, but Arthur feels it. John’s anger hurts. You just have to push, don’t you? You have to keep pushing, and keep pushing, and—

“John. Stop.” Arthur rubs his face. “Hastur, just… go. I’ll answer him.”

He can feel Hastur lean in. “Are you sure?”

His left hand jumps to grip… well, some part of Hastur that came too close. Arthur doesn’t know what.

But it lingers.

Arthur knows why. “I’m sure,” he says.

“Good. I will have important guests. I expect your best work yet,” Hastur says, and leaves them to it.

What the fuck, Arthur? says John, subdued, as he always is these days when Hastur physically leaves them.

Arthur knows John is in pain.

He also thinks he knows what Hastur wants from this song, from this mysterious spring rite, from next week’s performance, and he has never felt more awkward in his life. “Fuck,” he mutters.

I am still not getting this, says John.

Arthur sighs. “It’s hard to explain. It’s the way the piece works, I suppose; also maybe because it’s French.”

French?

“They’re a bit… licentious over there compared to the States.”

They are? John sounds flummoxed.

Arthur sighs again. “The point is, the piece is not ostensibly about sex, except that it is, and everybody knows when they hear it.”

I don’t know when I hear it.

“Yes, well… look, it works, all right? The consistent marching rhythm with those snare drums, the repeated theme, growing, surging… it just keeps getting bigger and bigger until it ends in fireworks. It works. And I have no idea how to match it, and certainly not how to top it.”

Arthur doesn’t mention the newspaper articles, the cries for censure, the uproar in the musical world. This had made waves a few years ago.

It failed to make waves with John. Maybe it’s better live?

Arthur groans and tries again.

It isn’t working. He knows it’s not.

“No,” Hastur says that evening, gratingly patient as Arthur struggles through. “That is less. Not more.”

“I don’t know how to do what you’re asking,” Arthur snaps in a rare moment of defiance. “Why don’t you go kidnap Ravel, if you’re so desperate for his work?”

“Because I don’t want his work. I want yours,” says Hastur, magnanimous. “Now. Try again.”

Arthur rubs his face.

He keeps trying.

He keeps producing repetitive and dull.

I don’t know how to help you, John says, subdued again in Hastur’s absence.

“Need a working libido to figure this out,” Arthur mutters.

What?

“Nothing.” He keeps trying.

Arthur thanks all that is good and holy that Faroe will not be here for whatever happens in a few days.

She’s thrilled about her special trip. Camping with Dis is such a grown-up thing to do in the Dreamlands, under the stars.

“Alone?” Arthur blurts.

“Naturally not. There will be a contingent, out of sight, to ensure nothing happens,” says Hastur, because of course there would be.

Arthur dislikes many things that go on in this place, but the focus on Faroe’s safety is not one of them.

“I’m going to gather herbs,” she says, showing off her new gear. From what John describes, there is an inordinate amount of buckles.

“This sounds like you’re going to have a lot of fun,” he says.

“We’re going to catch fish. And we’re going to roast something.”

“Something?”

“Whatever we can catch,” Faroe answers, mimicking Dis’ cadence. “It’s girl’s pre… pree… prerog…rative.”

Arthur grins. “Prerogative. And well it should be. Leave all us nasty guys behind, eh?”

She beams. “That’s what Dis said!”

She’s very cute in her gear, John confesses. She even has a little knife with a wooden blade—I don’t recall her working with weapons like that yet.

“You have a knife?”

“It’s my early birthday present!” she says.

She’s holding it out for inspection. Just to the left—there.

A four-year-old with a knife. Fuck, life was different in the Dreamlands. “John, what does it look like?” he says, holding it carefully.

A rich, dark wood. Its burl is beautiful—whorling, a clearly intentional pattern. I see power all through it; it will never cut her, but anything she means to cut should part like butter.

“It’s very sharp, darling,” says Arthur seriously. “Be very careful with it, or you could hurt someone.” And he hands it back like offering a sword to a knight.

She is grim as she takes it and sheaths it, buckling the handle down. But now, her smile is bright, Arthur. “Dis says to bring you a cabbage.”

“A what?”

“You’ll see,” says Dis, approaching from the left.

The captain is similarly kitted out. She must be coming from the stables because she’s leading Vemmaerra.

“And is Nibbles prepared?” says Arthur, taking all this very seriously.

“Yes!” says Faroe. “I get to ride her when we are out in the wilds.”

Out in the wilds is clearly a phrase she’s heard and has no concept of, and she repeats it with precise and meaningless annunciation.

Arthur smiles. He gives her a quick hug, then finally stands.

“Come, my daughter,” says Hastur, who will, of course, get the final goodbye, and any final words, and anything of real importance.

But Arthur got to see her off, and that matters.

He slams the lid shut so hard it makes the piano ring, then gets up to pace. “I can’t do this.”

Sure you can. Maybe tomorrow.

“I did…” Arthur waves his hands. “Commercials for Burma shave, for crying out loud! I can’t make… sex music.”

John really is trying to help, even though he’s been distracted, even though Arthur still feels like he’s losing him, inch by inch. Maybe you’re trying to make it too human?

“What does that even mean? Sex is sex.”

I… uh. Not really.

Arthur sighs. Paces. Then he stops. “Wait. Maybe you’re right.”

How so?

“Too human. That’s the problem. The rhythm is too human. I remember the sound,” he says, sitting back down. “The pace is wrong. But I think I know what to do.”

John stares at Arthur’s hands on the keys. He can tell by the tension in them how ready Arthur is to play or compose—and the hands look good. Relaxed and strong. Sound? Pace? What?

“Let’s try this.” And Arthur begins.

It’s a simple bass, a merciless pulse that John immediately finds damn near mesmerizing.

And familiar.

Arthur keeps it low, repeated octaves like a slow-beating heart, but what he does with his right hand makes John forget Bolero even exists. It’s all off-beat. Like the jazz, but not sparkling; it reminds John of the long-forgotten sense of his fingers in the flesh of some pityable thing, parting veins like opening noodles, blood warm and then sticky in the aftermath of intimate death.

Arthur takes his right hand up the register, transitioning to a new key, and John suddenly recalls wrestling with his half-brother Cthulhu back in the eternity of forever, when there was no pecking order, when there was no law, only the joy of twisting tangling tortioning strength and the endless fight for power.

Arthur is breathing hard; this seems to be taking a lot of concentration (and John cannot remember how to feel through the mark to see just what the hell is going on in there), but Arthur transitions again. Another key change, and the pulse has picked up speed.

Then he begins a new rhythm in his right hand, a counterpoint beat, like the high notes have their own heart, their own ichor to circulate, and John has enough awareness to realize Arthur was right about the difference a concert grand piano makes to raw sound.

Arthur’s teeth are bared.

Then Arthur doesn’t transition keys again. He doesn’t change rhythm. He just makes it more.

Louder. Heavier. Stronger, until he’s striking the keys, putting the whole of his core and upper-body strength into the assault, until John feels like either the piano strings are going to snap, or he is.

It peaks, huge, crazy, a breathlessly rich conclusion—and then it doesn’t just stop. Arthur flutters the rhythms, quieting them, bringing them down in volume and up in register until the whole piece comes to rest in soft, sparkling tones, still a counterpoint rhythm, but slowing as if to sleep.

John has forgotten words exist.

“Ha!” Arthur says, absolutely cheerful, wearing a smile so huge that his eyes crinkle.

It takes John a moment.

“I got it!” Arthur says. “What do you think?”

It takes John another moment. How did you… do that?

“His hearts.” Arthur looks happy, and it’s an expression John would have given anything to see, and right now is so overwhelmed he doesn’t know how to handle. “I remembered his hearts.”

His…

“When he marked me. I heard them. Felt them. They’re not in sync, you know.”

S-sure. He knew that, but it never seemed this interesting before. It takes John another moment. Do you have any idea what you did?

“I gave him what he wanted, I’m pretty sure.”

John is pretty sure Arthur hacked eldritch biology, is what he did, but he doesn’t know what to say. Yeah. That’ll work.

“It better, because I’m too damn tired to do it again.” Arthur is pleased and exhausted; he sweated a lot, which probably means he will even more on the night of the performance.

So a sound like that, plus his own scent, plus whatever magic is making the rounds on the night in question. John is thinking practically. We are going to need an escape route.

“Sure, John.” Arthur is all too happy to shower and go to bed. He hums his new, weird melody until he’s finally in bed.

John stares at the inside of Arthur’s eyelids and worries whether Arthur maybe did too good a job.

The next day, Hastur comes in during practice, and, like John, he falls silent as Arthur plays.

Arthur barely notices he’s there. It’s enticing, this piece, though it’s not a rhythm he’s known before. It’s grown on him; he doesn’t just play it. He breathes it, feels it; his own heart cannot follow this beat, but he’s fairly sure that if it could, it would.

He’s proud of this crazy piece—and yes, he thinks it might be better than Ravel’s.

“John.”

Arthur jumps.

Hastur.

Hastur sounds… breathy, a little. Voice rough. “Well, Arthur. It seems you did not disappoint.”

This will be dangerous for him tonight.

“Before hearing this, I would have disagreed, but… you have a point.”

“What?” says Arthur.

“I had not planned on his participation beyond the music.”

When they hear this, they won’t give him a choice.

“What?” Arthur blurts. “Look, what is happening tonight, anyway? Did you seriously ask me to write… incidental music for an orgy?”

“If you wish to phrase it that way.” Hastur seems unconcerned. “It is an offering to the Mother Goddess. You remember, John, surely; we celebrate every year—an ode to spring, a chance at new life.”

John’s voice is rough now. I remember.

Arthur feels ill. “I really don’t want to be part of this.”

“You will not. Your life would be in danger, and while I personally wouldn’t at all mind seeing you fucked to death, we would all suffer, including Faroe. So, no—you will be safe.”

Now, he feels really sick. “Great,” he says, tasting bile.

You would want that, you piece of shit.

“John, I would do anything in my power to remove you from him,” says Hastur. “The only reason it has not happened is I have not yet found a way.”

Give it up. I’m never joining you.

“You will. You need it even more than I.”

John growls.

Arthur is so not in the mood for this repeated, endless, circular argument. “Stop. Both of you. Just stop. I don’t want to hear it right now. Hastur, I’ll play your bloody piece, and then I am going away, and nobody is going to bother us tonight. All right?”

“We are, for once, in agreement,” says Hastur. “I will personally ensure you are… escorted to safety.”

You’d better.

“I’d like to know what you would do, should I not.”

You already know. I told you. I will take one of the deals offered to me.

“John.” Arthur grips his head. “Stop.” He doesn’t know why John’s anger hurts, but it does.

Every damn time, it hurts.

Hastur makes a low, pleased sound. “By all means, John… don’t calm down on my account.” And he leaves.

And John seethes.

And Arthur’s head aches, and he wonders if tonight, he should find a way to go armed.

He doesn’t go armed. There’d be no point, and he has no weapons, anyway.

The evening comes.

John keeps description minimal. Arthur is glad, because the rest of his senses are going nuts. The scents are... indescribable. Sweet, sour, musky, floral. Natural pheromones? Weird perfume? He doesn’t know.

The sound of thick and swishing fabric everywhere is absurd, and he tries to amuse himself by picturing giant squid-people in fairy-tale ball gowns.

“Awful lot of clothing for an orgy, isn’t it?” he murmurs under his breath.

Just more for them to unwrap, is all. John sounds choked.

Arthur swallows. “It appeals to you, doesn’t it?”

Shut up.

“It’s all right, John. This is your scene. I get it.”

Arthur, it isn’t—

“And now, my honored guests!” Hastur booms, Hastur bellows, his voice making the piano strings vibrate. “We join to celebrate renewal… regrowth… the magnificence of beautiful and undefeatable life!”

The whole group cheers.

And Arthur thinks, for just a moment, that even this absurd proclamation doesn’t hurt his head as much as John’s anger.

“My… court composer,” says Hastur with a chuckle, as though the idea itself were absurd. “We are ready. Guide us into the path of creation. Guide us into her shadow, that we may partake of her essence and give her praise.”

You can do this, Arthur.

Might as well get it over with, he thinks, and begins to play.

He plays with focus, with the memory of Hastur’s hearts through all his being, and loses himself in their song.

Why it’s so moving, he doesn’t know. Maybe gods do it differently; maybe Hastur’s vascular systems pump some divine beat, and not just whatever he has instead of blood.

It doesn’t matter. Arthur plays, and Arthur breathes, and he blocks out all the world.

He’s panting when it’s done, and is surprised to find there is silence.

He’s drained. Sweaty. This was exhausting, even with the better shape he’s in; at least nobody’s doing anything, judging by the sound, though why they’re all so quiet—

They’re looking at you, John hisses in warning.

Arthur tenses.

Then Hastur suddenly grabs him, just plucks him off the bench like a flower from the grass. There is the ear-popping shock of a portal opening, and he is thrown through.

He lands hard.

The portal closes with a shoop.

Arthur! We’re in your room! We’re safe! He… he actually did it! You’re safe!

“Oh, thank fuck,” Arthur says on his hands and knees, hanging his head. Then the air begins to tremor, a weirdly metallic thrumming, and Arthur absolutely does not want to know more.

He wants to sleep.

That would be lovely, wouldn’t it? Just sleeping right through this, sliding right past whatever freakish coupling they’re all engaged in, but he can’t.

There’s too much… something. In the air.

It isn’t noise.

It isn’t any sense he understands, but it wires the room and leaves his every breath heated, and John is absolutely not being a damn bit of help.

John is acting drugged. He’s completely silent unless spoken to, and then only responds with nonsense.

It is frightening that John is so affected even though they’re in a different part of the palace. Arthur is very glad Hastur is not here to take advantage of it. “How much longer can they keep this up?” he mutters into his pillow.

Days. Maybe. I dunno! Could be fun for days!

Arthur sighs. John is positively blotto. “Fuck, I hope not.”

Why? Hey. Hey. We could go peek.

“No, thank you.”

But I bet it’s something in there!

Arthur snorts. “I’ll bet it is, my friend, but I want to sleep.”

That’s okay. It’s nice here, with you. In the dark.

It isn’t dark. Arthur’s face is in the pillow. “Sure.”

The tensing metal air thrums.

“John,” Arthur says. “Should I leave? Go outside, or something? Leave the palace, maybe?”

I… I wouldn’t. Think something would catch you. Might not go so good. I would have to bite them.

Arthur laughs weakly. “You can’t bite them. My mouth is my own.”

Oh. I could tell you to bite them!

“No, that… that’s all right.”

Hey. You really don’t know what you did. Do you? Know what you did do?

“I wrote some music.” Even to himself, he sounds absurd.

Noooo. You wrote fucking amazing music.

And Arthur can’t help himself. “Fucking amazing… fucking music?”

There’s a pause.

Then John is laughing, and Arthur is laughing, and the tension judders back, and Arthur rolls over so John isn’t stuck staring at a pillowcase any longer.

“Sorry, sorry,” says Arthur, who isn’t.

The lights came on! says John with delight. You did so good. Such a… such a good music. That’s all. Maybe if there’s a blessing, you’ll get some.

“Sure. So… this is how you people repopulate, or something?”

No, we don’t need anything like that. Most of us don’t even need a partner! We just do it. Choom!

Arthur turns his laugh into a cough. “Choom?”

Yeah! Participation is just for fun. But assigning meaning to things gives them meaning.

“That’s profound, John.” It’s impossible to stay so grim with John like this. “Will there actually be a blessing?”

Think so? Maybe? They’re having fun!

“Yes, I know they’re having fun.”

Wish I could have fun.

Arthur swallows.

You could, too!

“No, I… I don’t want any, thank you.”

Aww. You don’t like fun, Arthur?

“I really don’t deserve fun, my friend,” Arthur says quietly.

Nooo, Arthur, no! You deserve it! You should have it! Fun is good, Arthur.

“John…”

Fun is good.

He’s so sincere.

Arthur smiles weakly. “After this whole affair, John, to be perfectly honest, I’d rather never even think about anything like this ever again for the rest of my—”

A portal opens.

Arthur sits up, tense.

Hi! John says, cheerful.

“Peace, both of you.” It’s Hastur, and he sounds absolutely fucking drunk.

Slurring. Warm. There is something like his growl rumbling under his words, only it’s far from an angry sound.

The sounds behind him aren’t angry, either, but Arthur is very glad when the portal closes and they are cut off.

Hi! John says again. Wait. Go away! You aren’t invited, John growls, or tries.

“Pfff,” says Hastur, and flops beside the bed like a pile of laundry dumped on the floor.

The whole bed jumps as if caught in a quake.

“Is he fucking purring?” Arthur blurts, and doesn’t get an answer.

Is Hastur here to… do something to him?

Faroe’s unanswered question about catamite comes back to mind, and Arthur feels a distinct urge to run for the window and leap out of it. “What are you doing here?” he says in a small voice.

“Mm,” says Hastur, and leans half of himself on the bed.

The bed groans and damn near bends in half under his bulk.

Arthur slides toward him a few inches, just gravity and satin sheets working against him, and he panics.

Easy, says John, slowly, still not sober, but definitely scared closer to it. Just… slide… back a little, maybe. Don’t rush.

Arthur is far beyond not rushing. He scrambles backwards, breathing too fast, high and whimpering, and he gains three whole inches before Hastur moves.

Just grabs him, just curls a tentacle around his waist and plucks him in the air without warning.

Arthur shouts, kicks at nothing. “No! Let me go!”

“Calm down,” says Hastur, and pulls Arthur down into the mass of his arms.

Like he does Faroe.

Arthur makes a choked sound. This is terrifying. They’re heavy, hot; they aren't doing anything, but he can’t push them off him or fight his way free. He feels like he’s been wrapped in heavy silk and dropped into deep water, and he can’t breathe.

He makes panicked sounds on every exhale; tears sting his eyes.

Hey. Hey! Arthur’s left hand can’t get any space to move, but it seems to be poking. Hey! You’re making Arthur cry!

Hastur seems to stir. “Why are you so afraid?” he says, slurring.

The absolute craziness of that sentence snaps Arthur out of it. “You’re joking.”

A beat. “I am not,” says Hastur with a gravity he completely misses by turning his consonants to mush.

“You… you hate me,” Arthur says, trembling with effort to push Hastur’s unmoving arms off him. “You’ve broken my leg, you… you’ve hurt me so many times. How can you even ask that?”

Hastur takes this seriously. “I am not breaking your legs now.”

He’s magic-drunk, John says. Hahaha!

This isn’t remotely funny. “Please!” his voice breaks. “I hate… I hate confined spaces. Please let me out.”

“Faroe likes this,” says Hastur, as if being completely reasonable.

“I’m not Faroe! Oh, gods, let me out!”

“What nonsense,” says Hastur, but his arms slither apart, opening, dropping Arthur to the floor.

Gasping wildly, he tries to scramble away.

Hastur picks him up again.

“Stop!”

Hey! Hey! John smacks the tentacle with his left hand.

“What?” Hastur settles against Arthur’s bed again (which creaks alarmingly, springs snapping), then tucks Arthur against his chest like a teddy bear with an arm around his waist. “Shhhh.”

It’s better than being engulfed. It’s still bad. “Hastur, please!”

“Shhh.”

At least he’s not being swayed. There is that. At least there is that. “John, what do I do?” he whispers.

I dunno! Uh. I dunno? Hey! What are you doing?”

“Presence,” says Hastur. There is an ominous crack in the bed somewhere, as of wood breaking. “It didn’t work.”

“Wh… what didn’t work?”

It takes Hastur a moment. “I hate you very much, you know,” he says, and those words should come with a crushing squeeze, with the breaking of bones and rending of flesh, but they do not.

Arthur stays pressed against his yellow cloak, breathing fast. “I know?”

“You took him away from me, you know,” says Hastur, raising one of his humanoid hands to brush Arthur’s hair back from his face.

Arthur tries to lean away. The tentacle around his waist is like steel. “Don’t hurt me.”

He won’t dare! Arthur’s left arm whacks Hastur’s repeatedly.

“He won’t come back to me, you know,” says Hastur, ignoring John. “And you won’t even… you don’t even break right. They’re mine when they break, you know? Any human I break and show myself to is mine. I break them, and then they love me. They’re all mine! Pop, like eating a ripe cherry. But you didn’t even do that right.”

Arthur is stunned. Kayne said something like that, hadn’t he? No, he’d said… he’d said that everyone else who took John from that book died, popped like a ripe cherry.

It’s too weird. It can’t be a coincidence. But is it? “I… I don’t know why that is.”

“I do,” says Hastur, and pokes Arthur’s chest right where he’d marked him.

That—

Ripples of something from that spot flash through Arthur’s whole being, and he briefly whites out.

“—a stubborn piece of shit,” Hastur finishes.

Arthur wipes his eyes. He’s sweating. “I… uh.”

Hey! Mine! John hits him again.

Hastur sighs. “Oh, Arthur… Arthur Lester. It hurts. It always hurts. It didn’t work tonight. I am supposed to feel better.” The purr has ceased. “I do not feel better. It did not work.”

Oh.

It hurts.

It is weirdly human that Hastur threw himself into physical intimacy in an attempt to get away from non-physical pain.

“John hurts, too,” Arthur says slowly.

What? Noooo, John says, and waves his left hand. Well, yeeees, but not so bad. I have life-support, remember? I have you!

Hastur sniffles.

“Are… are you crying?” says Arthur.

Hastur sniffles again.

Arthur rubs his face. “Really?”

Take that! John says for some reason.

Hastur is petting his head again.

Sad drunk, Arthur thinks, and that helps. He knows how to handle sad drunks. Tentative, he pats the arm around his waist, and somehow, gets the words out: “Um. It’s going to be okay.”

It is? says John in wonder.

Hastur sniffles again. “He won’t come back to me, and that is because of you.”

Could this be more pathetic? “It’s because of him, too—and because of you. We’ve all made choices. We’re all in this. We dug the pit together.”

It’s my fault! John declares. Don’t you dare blame him!

“He keeps choosing you,” says Hastur, ignoring John completely.

“I know,” says Arthur, soft. “I don’t deserve it.”

Arthur! Hey. Hey, Arthur.

“Why does he do that?” Hastur says.

“I don’t know.” Arthur swallows. “I really don’t. I don’t know why he keeps choosing me.”

Arthur… John sounds so sad. Don’t say that, Arthur. Arthur?

“Yes, John?” Arthur feels like his heart weighs a thousand pounds.

Can you sing me a song?

“Yes,” says Hastur. “A song.”

I want a funny song.

“I don’t want a funny song,” says Hastur.

Well, why not? It’s better than anything else he feared happening tonight. “All right. I’ve got… maybe one that’s both? Um, let me see.” He doesn’t actually have that, but they’re both drunk now, so they’ll hear what they want. Softly, he sings:

“The cuckoo is a fine bird. He sings as he flies, He brings us good tidings and tells us no lies. He sucks the sweet flowers to make his voice clear, And the more he cries ‘cuckoo,’ the summer is nigh.”

Yeah! John says. Suck those flowers!

Arthur laughs, surprised into it.

Hastur sniffles. “He sounds like a very good bird.”

“I’m sure he is,” Arthur mutters, clears his throat, and sings again.

“Come all you fair maidens, take warning of me, Don't place your affections on a sycamore tree, For the top it will wither, and the roots they will die, And if I'm forsaken, I know not for why.”

Fuck that guy! John proclaims.

“Roots,” Hastur rumbles, sounding angry.

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” says Arthur. “I’ll stop.”

“No!”

No!

“More, Arthur,” says Hastur, sitting up.

You should write me a funny song, says John, who sounds absolutely chipper now. You could make it dirty, too. I wouldn’t mind.

“Oh, that’s good to know,” says Arthur, feeling lightheaded.

“When roots die, so does the tree,” says Hastur, solemn.

“That… that’s true?”

I’ll give you roots, says John for some reason.

“It’s all… going to work out,” Arthur says, and wonders: if he keeps John to himself, will Hastur eventually die?

They are an opportunistic family. If Hastur dies, his kingdom will fall to another.

And that will absolutely fuck over Faroe.

She’s his heir. They’d never stop chasing her. Little Faroe, who is so strong, and so smart. Faroe, who is learning and experiencing things Arthur could never give her in a thousand lifetimes.

Faroe, who is, right now, incredibly safe.

He could never give her a life like this. He already threw away any right he had to try. His stomach churns.

Hey, says John, who must be watching in the mirrors. You’re not supposed to cry. You’re supposed to be funny!

“Well, John, I—”

And dirty, John says.

“I think I’ve had enough of dirty for tonight,” says Arthur. “Gentlemen, I’m tired. Please let me go. I need to sleep.”

“Humans do need sleep,” says Hastur, slowly rising. “Horrible activity. Don’t know how you stand it.”

“Well, we do,” says Arthur. “It’ll kill us if we don’t get enough.”

Hastur puts him back on the bed, but neither moves away, nor lets go. “I really do hate you, you know.”

“I know.” Arthur sighs.

“Fuck,” Hastur pronounces, lowering back down and covering Arthur’s bottom half in hot, heavy weight.

The bed creaks, shudders, and the frame finally breaks.

Arthur grunts as the mattress hits the floor.

Hastur does not move. His breathing is slow and steady.

Aww, says John. Look at us! All together, the way it should be.

And John does not seem to register Arthur’s gasp.

Or Arthur’s hard swallow.

John begins humming the tune Arthur just sang, fairly accurately. His left hand comes up, strokes Arthur’s hair, then settles on his chest over his heart.

Gods don’t sleep, but they both seem to be in some kind of daze.

Good, Arthur thinks, because he can’t talk right now.

Good, Arthur thinks, because his heart under John’s hand hurts, because his stomach under Hastur’s weight twists, because his throat—in no grip but his mind’s own—tightens.

He knows what needs to happen for John’s sake, in time.

He’s known since the beginning. He has.

He knew he was being selfish when Kayne gave him that choice in Addison, years ago.

He knows he’s self-centered. He knows.

He knows he needs to give John up, for John’s sake, for John.

He doesn’t know if he can.

Sing for me, Arthur? says John.

“Always, my friend,” Arthur whispers, and it’s a vow, because John is in pain, and Arthur knows he’s in pain, and he knows Hastur is right: Arthur is at fault.

“They told me last night there were ships in the offing, And I hurried down to the deep rolling sea. But my eye could not see it wherever might be it, The bark that is bringing my lover to me.

“Blow the wind southerly, southerly, southerly. Blow the wind south, where's the bonnie blue sea. Blow the wind southerly, southerly, southerly. Blow bonnie breeze my lover and bring her to me.”

Arthur’s voice trails off, and the two gods breathe—one in his head, the other draped across his stomach—and no one speaks any more at all.

#malevolent #malevolentpod #surrogate series #arthur & john #arthur lester #arthur malevolent #malevolent arthur #malevolent john #kiy malevolent

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sapphic-woes · 2 years

Text

Trust Me Pt.3

Chapters: One Two

___________________

“What’s your status Widow?” Natasha should have known all this had been too good to be true.

The paramedic muttered the words casually under their breath as they tended to Natasha’s wound. They didn’t have to say the infamous mantra for Natasha to know who they were, and the warm giddiness the spy felt moments before all but disappeared. Instead, she was crushed with the heavy weight of ice on her chest, glancing at the open doors of the ambulance to make sure that Peggy was out of earshot.

“Hail Hydra–the weaknesses of the captain are still at large.” She’s way too trusting, too willing to put her own life on the line for others. She’s quick to pity and even quicker to empathize. “The serum makes her...otherworldly. I am still unsure of how to take her down.” Natasha wasn’t lying...at least not really. Carter did seem indestructible at times, taking missiles head-on with nothing but her raw strength and shield to protect her.

But sometimes, when the captain looked down at her just before the beginning of a mission–as though searing every inch of Natasha’s face into her mind–she became incredibly soft, painfully tender, utterly loving…but worst of all, undeniably weak.

If Hydra were to learn of that…there’s no telling what they’d do.

“Hydra sent you in because we believed you were capable of achieving results…not just playing hero with the enemy.” Natasha stiffened, hissing when the so called medic dug his fingers into her wound. She bit back a cry, furrowing her eyebrows as he continued, “try harder Natasha. That woman was just like us once, and everyone has a weakness. I’ll be back soon, and if Hydra hears anything other than a positive report…well, you of all people know what they can do.”

She did, but Natasha feared it didn't matter to her anymore. They can't find out. Natasha kept a neutral face once the medic finished patching her up and Carter came forward. They'll do anything to kill her. She didn't react to the delicate brush of the captain's hand against her skin, holding back a shiver as Carter inspected her bandaged leg. Even if it means harming their best spy, as long as Carter is brought to her knees they won't care.

Hydra would use her to get to Carter, and above all else, Natasha refused to be her captain's weakness.

"What's going on Nat? One second you tell me you might feel something for me, and then the next you're giving me the cold shoulder. Did I do something wrong? Was that...too fast or–?" Rather than continue their conversation elsewhere, Natasha insisted on going home herself. Afterward, she refused to see Carter while Shield benched her till she completely healed. She used every excuse under the book until the captain finally had enough and showed up at Natasha's door herself.

Casual clothing should have been banned from Carter's body, the simple black tank and gray hooded jacket somehow making Natasha's heart jump. She stiffened under Carter's unyielding stare, unable to meet the captain's gaze.

"That...was a mistake on my part. I shouldn't have said that." Natasha took in a wavering breath, gripping the doorknob as she murmured her words. "I'm your partner, having a relationship could distract the both of us, and the public deserves more than that. I'm sorry Carter but…" The spy couldn't bring herself to look up, feeling tears brim the backs of her eyes. No, not now. She had to stay strong, finish this and disappear from both Hydra and Shield.

"We can't be together. Ever. It'll only cause us pain, and eventually…" Eventually, when you know the truth you'll come to hate me too. Natasha held herself back before she said the words aloud, shaking her head before she moved to shut the door.

"No. You have to be a bigger idiot than me if you think I'll believe such a flimsy excuse, partner." The growled out words made Natasha look up in shock, catching deep brown eyes darkened with desperation. Carter stuck her foot in the door before gripping it in her hand, easily overpowering Natasha and prying it open.

"A distraction? Natasha I couldn't be a distraction to you even if I tried. You're always hellbent on completing a mission. You act as if they're always some type of test, and you've got some imaginary judge rating your performance." Natasha wobbled back as Carter came forward, her calm rage more frightening than any outburst Natasha could have.

Though, Natasha guessed Carter's anger scared her the most because it came from a place of love. One she knew would eventually be her downfall.

"Carter I–"

"I never understand why. Every mission you would look at me as though it would be your last. As if that imaginary judge would give you a bad score one day and you would just disappear. Did you even realize you did that? Did you…" Natasha jolted when her back met the coolness of her apartment wall, swallowing as Carter didn't slow her pace.

The spy froze as the captain came closer, and then closer still–until neither of their breaths were their own, and Natasha swore Carter could hear her heartbeat. Carter pressed her left arm onto the wall above Natasha's head, her other hand moving to cup the spy's face in her hand. The captain let out a trembling breath, voice strained as she just barely whispered her next words aloud.

"Did you ever...think about how much that scared me?"

When Natasha finally looked up into her captain's eyes, she swore she saw the sun. It dripped down rays of longing over her, Carter's tears melting the ice Natasha had so desperately tried to freeze over her heart. I can't… What couldn't she do? Give into those glistening eyes above her? Continue to reject them? She felt like both were impossible, shutting her eyes tightly as she spoke.

"I'm doing this for you. It isn't safe to be with me, I'm not who you think I am Carter. I– before I was in Shield I wasn't good...and I'm still not." Natasha carefully chose her words, still fearful of how Carter would react if she knew the truth. Nervously she rubbed her arms, shrinking into herself as she spoke.

"You're right, it was a shitty excuse...but trust me when I say that the truth is worse. It doesn't matter what I feel about you Carter...regardless I'm bad news. I'll hurt you and bring you down one day–and you don't deserve that. You're too good for that. You're...too good for me." Natasha's voice cracked over her final words, sucking in a breath when a hand delicately held her chin.

Natasha shivered when Carter guided Natasha's gaze back up, pressed her forehead down against the spy's own, tears still rolling down her cheeks. She's...a giant crybaby huh? The intrusive thought almost made Natasha laugh in the midst of everything, head moving left and right as Carter shook her head against hers.

"Don't say that. Don't give up on us before you even try. You think I couldn't tell you had a past? Natasha...I know the person you were before becoming my partner was different. Hell, in hindsight the you I met ages ago was probably fabricated as well. But this?" Carter pressed her hand flush against Natasha's chest, letting out a breathless chuckle when she felt her partner shudder under her.

"Kind of hard to fake a heartbeat that fast. I know what's happening right now is real, and to me that matters more than who you used to be. You won't hurt me, let alone will anyone from your past...not as long as I have you." How can she say such things so easily? How can she trust me knowing I'm keeping secrets from her?

"You're naive. You don't know what I could be doing behind your back! I-I could be a terrible person, and you don't even know it!" Natasha burst out, reaching forward to grip a fistful of Carter's tank top. "You're going to get yourself killed like this! You're way too trusting and–!" Natasha yelped as suddenly Carter gripped her by the waist, picking her up before carefully dumping the spy on her couch. She didn't have time to orient herself before the couch groaned under Carter's weight, swallowing as the captain hovered over her.

Maybe...I should buy a bigger couch.

"So are you? Planning to kill me that is? It's a rather elaborate plan if you ask me. Becoming my partner, making me fall in love, falling in love yourself ...and then attempting to run away at the last minute? Ah–unless the whole 'fall in love with the enemy' part wasn't planned?" Natasha flushed at the sly grin Carter gave her, eyebrows knit together.

"I'm not planning to kill you–"

"Then there's nothing to worry about, right? The girl I like doesn't want me dead–what else could I possibly want? Natasha...don't push me away. Whatever it is holding you back we can face together, head on. With you and me side by side...what out there even stands a chance?" Natasha had resolved to heal up her leg and then disappear before either Shield or Hydra contacted her again–anything to keep Carter safe.

Yet here the captain was, ripping apart her plans and planting a seed of hope in the soil of her despair. Could she really reach forward and touch happiness, even though she had been denied it so many times before? Hesitantly Natasha reached up, faintly brushing the tips of her fingers against Carter's cheek. She felt the dried tears there, and the warmth–her overwhelming warmth that beckoned Natasha closer. It seems I can. For once in my life I can see happiness before my face and grasp it in my hands.

Though she was fearful of Hydra, fearful of Shield and most of all fearful of losing Carter–Natasha had to try. She had to trust Carter's words, believe she wasn't lying, and so in turn lay herself bare before the captain as well. It was the only way to prepare Carter for what was coming, and Natasha gulped as she slowly nodded.

"Okay...I'll tell you who I really am. But before I do…" Natasha sucked in a breath, heart pounding heavily against her chest. She'd never asked Carter for anything before, but suddenly she felt needy, skin burning as she all but whispered the request. "Let me call you by your first name from now on. Marg–"

"It's Peggy. My nickname. Most people close to me call me that...and I'd love it if you did as well Natasha." At the answer Natasha couldn't help but smile for the first time since Peggy came, nodding with a small laugh as she grinned up at her captain.

"Alright, Peggy ... I'll tell you a little story of who the Natasha Romanoff you know really is."

#wlw #wlw fanfic #wlw writing #peggy x natasha #peggynat #peggy carter #captain carter #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel #mcu #lesbians #sapphic #sapphic writing #sapphic woes

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persephoneflowerpetals · 8 months

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Do you think Disney should go back to re-releasing their animated movies for limited theatrical releases in 3D again Rather than making these live action remakes / reboots? How do you feel about those (the live action stuff)? I honestly think it's bad (imagine if they made a live action Hercules movie). At least the 3D thing was a fun gimmick and actually got people in seats.

Totally! They need to take some of those classic movies out of the Disney vault lol! I’d love to see Cinderella and Mulan and Hercules back in theaters! I know during the summer some movies theaters will play kids movies that have already been released for summer camps that visit and stuff like that (at least where I live they do lol) , but you don’t really see them playing Disney movies unless they’re new releases. It’s usually movies from different studios like Universal or Dreamworks.

I’m not the biggest fan of the live action reboots tbh. Disney honestly needs to go back to releasing original movies. I feel like Pixar’s the only one making original movies (and sequels) at this point and they’re doing quite well, like everyone thought Elemental was gonna be a flop, but it actually turned out to be a good movie and did well in the box office. Like, look at the live action Snow White that’s coming out, though. Haven’t heard the greatest things about it and it hasn’t even been released yet, so I guess that’s not a good sign. Personally, I feel like the only good live action reboots were The Jungle Book and Cinderella and those were made back in the mid to late 2010s. I haven’t really seen any other ones besides those only because they just didn’t look very good and I’ve heard they aren’t very good either, but maybe I’m wrong. Like, even the Little Mermaid reboot wasn’t the best, I heard it was okay, but not great. But I haven’t seen that one yet, so yeah lol. I guess I’ll have to find the time to watch the reboots on Disney+ lol (though, tbh they don’t really interest me so idk if I actually will unless they REALLY interest me lol, like I’d be up to watching the Beauty & the Beast reboot but not the Pinocchio one because omg I’ve seen clips and reviews and it is…so bad, also I don’t really like the original Pinocchio movie, it scared me as a kid lol). I’ve heard different opinions on different live action movies, so I totally respect you if you have a different opinion from mine, like, if you liked the live action Dumbo movie, then that’s cool. You do you, y’know? But to me, the movie just didn’t look that good (even though it had the great Danny Devito aka Philoctetes in it lol).

And yeah, I honestly wasn’t big on the 3D animated movies at first either, but now that Disney’s basically only making live action reboots at this point, I’d love to see anything animated lol. Like give us a Frozen 3. I’ll take it if it means no more live action reboots 😂 but I really do miss their 2D animated movies and I wish they start making those again, but I suppose it’ll be a while since there an actor’s and writer’s strike going on and 2D animated movies take a lot more time and work and people than it does with a 3D animated movie (which I guess is why they were making those so much).

But oooooooh, honey…have I got news for you…there is definitely a live action Hercules in the works and I’m scared about it lol. I believe it’s gonna be made by the same directors that made Marvel’s Infinity Wars (or maybe it was Endgame? I don’t remember lol) and the worst part….they said the movie’s gonna be inspired by TikTok….FREAKING TIKTOK OF ALL THINGS LIKE??? What do they even mean by that??? It’s a social media app??? Like is the movie gonna be made with 1 minute clips of people doing little dances in their living room or something???

I’m trying to stay positive about the whole thing, but oh man do they make it difficult lol. I think they’re also going to cast Ariana Grande as Meg and idk if that’s the best casting decision. That’s just me though, idk. I mean, her rendition of I Won’t Say I’m In Love was okay, but I wouldn’t go as far as making her Meg in a movie. I only know her acting from Victorious and Hairspray Live and those were okay too, so I guess what I’m trying to say is that Ariana Grande is an okay singer and actress, but like I said, I wouldn’t go as far as making her Meg. I think, like pretty much every movie in Hollywood at this point, they’re just putting her in the movie just because she’s a famous celebrity and her name has enough value to get people to see the movie, but maybe I’m wrong. I dunno if her being Meg is actually official, though, most of the info we have for the movie (mainly casting) is just rumors and speculation, so maybe they won’t go with Ariana and they’ll actually go with some new talent (which is very much needed and I’d love to see it as someone who is dreaming of breaking into the acting business one day, I’m so tired of seeing studios hire celebrities for everything, like it’s okay to audition people and look for new actors, my dudes), but yeah. I guess we’ll see how the movie plays out in the future.

#ask #anon ask #disney’s hercules #hercules live action remake #hercules live action #disney #rambles #long ramble

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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 2 years

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I’ve saved the new Taskmaster episode until today, when I have time to sit down and enjoy it properly. Thoughts on Taskmaster s14e03, written as I watch it:

- First of all, while I’m usually good at avoiding spoilers when I don’t watch a Taskmaster episode right away, I’ll admit that I have already seen that they brought over the NZ thing of a sabotage task. So that won’t be a surprise, but it will be a delight. It’s one of the best ideas of Taskmaster NZ has ever had, they are absolutely right to have it on here.

- “Small spaces, and women being allowed to vote.” I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: the funniest version of those Greg and Alex bits is where Greg makes Alex pretend to be right wing.

- Sarah’s prize is excellent. Not just for hotels, for life. A Do Not Disturb sign is what every person needs on a Sunday morning, no matter where they are.

- Well, Greg has already decided it’s a funny running joke for John to come last every time, so it’ll have to be really good to force Greg to drop that one.

- I genuinely wrote the above point before seeing what John’s prize was. That’s hilarious. His last two were actually all right and he got short changed, this was actually bad. The joke continues.

- Oh God. I thought Fern’s bit was just going to be another making Alex eat something weird, but it turned into something much more unexpected than that: the worst roast of Greg Davies in at least a few seasons. Awesome.

- I thought for a moment that Munya was going to say Super Mario, which would be the actual correct answer, though Greg would probably not acknowledge it as such. Instead he’s vying for the most horrifying Taskmaster prize ever. What the hell, dude?

- Okay, Dara has also managed to find a pretty legitimate answer to the question.

- Well, I thought John would come last unless he brought something brilliant, but I wasn’t counting on Munya bringing a foot grater. Absolutely deserved the one point, and I say that as someone who has been commissioned by own brain to support him for the victory like he’s a sports team.

- Right, okay, so the joke is not just that John gets one point in every prize task, it’s that he gets either significantly less or significantly more than they deserved. Okay, Greg, whatever.

- Calling this before seeing the second part of the first task, I’d just have every person in the team put one of their own hands on one of their own hips. I feel like tasks like this (where they make you choose something before knowing what you’ll have to do with it) tend to punish overthinking. But we’ll see where it goes.

- Okay, I get that it would be special to watch this without knowing and then have the reveal that Kearns is sabotaging, but it is very funny to watch even the beginning of this task while knowing that. Him putting both hands on Fern’s hips and trying to pass it off as confusion, while actually clearly hoping they’ll be there at the second the two minutes end and then they’ll have to stay there.

- Okay, I was probably wrong. One person with two free hands is the way to go for moving sand. Though one person with both hands on their own hips and person free would be probably be the best way to go. I don’t seen any scenario where attaching them together would be better than that.

- And they’ve just said exactly that in the studio. To be fair, I’m saying this while watching at home. If I were actually there and under pressure, I might lose my mind and try what John Kearns did even without an extra sabotaging task.

- Smart of Munya to go straight for the pots with plants in them. I feel like a lot of other contestants would waste a lot of time hand wringing about the lack of empty buckets.

- I am getting shades of Russell Howard and Alice Levine in that duck task, in the way Sarah and Munya are positioned here.

- I genuinely love the choice to put really dramatic music behind Sarah and Munya doing this task. I don’t think I’ve heard music quite that dramatic on Taskmaster before, and it works.

- Oh God. That was dramatic. They (but which I mean “he”, as this task was very much Munya’s show with Sarah quite literally getting dragged along) took a risk there, trying not to move the pots closer to the trolley at all before the last seconds. When they knocked the cart over I thought they might not get any sand it, so it’s better than they could have been. I don’t know why they took the time to bring it up on the platform, either. I’d have left it on the ground. That was a tense ending, great use of the music. Solid task all around.

- I sort of know that John Kearns and Alex Horne are friends in real life, and while I’ve only barely grasped what Kears’ persona even is yet, I feel like his “Oh God, what the fuck are you doing?” when Alex handed him the secret task and weird music started playing is the sort of breakage of character that occurs when you’re alone in a caravan with your friend. I like it.

- The fact that Dara and Fern are that shocked suggests that they had no idea at the time that John was sabotaging them, which suggests that John trying to sabotage doesn’t look that different from John trying to help his team, which says something fun about how the rest of the team tasks have gone.

- Ah, there’s the title drop. I wondered who gets called “dafty” as per the episode title, makes sense that it’s the guy actively trying to ruin the task.

- I haven’t seen past the first few seconds of JohnFernRa’s attempt at this task, but I’ve just realized we will have a new way to talk shit about people who do really badly in future tasks. If I want to convey how badly I thought someone performed, I can say they did worse than John Kearns in that sand task but they didn’t even have his excuse.

- I was waiting to see what subtle way John would find to interfere with their plans while staying under the radar, and then he just turned his own hat upside down literally while Dara was looking this other way. Hilarious.

- John Kearns saying this while doing everything short of actually winking at Alex is all you want out of a sabotage task, really.

- Fern just said they might not have time to transfer all the sand so they should go back to the trolley, and John yelled, “We’ve got time!” So John Kearns is sabotaging the team by telling them to use Munya’s strategy.

- I absolutely love how much of John’s sabotaging technique consists of saying things like, “Oh no, I don’t want that to go wrong,” in a clearly sarcastic voice.

- Holy fuck, that was funny. I thought he was going to find a way to knock over the cart and make it look like an accident at the end. But no, he just pretended to have completely lost his mind and misread the task and though he had to pour one thing into another.

- Amazing that John is so bad at sabotaging, Munya and Sarah did not do their task very well, and it still paid off. That was so close that the last thing John did, running his hands through the bucket that was still full at the time and knocking a little bit of sand out, probably made the difference.

- What a classic. It isn’t a Taskmaster season until they’ve identified some really weird food. I like that they were looking for a way to dress that task up as an original one, and they just went with... Okay it’s ice cream this time. The its thing. Now get on with the food identifying.

- I mean, is Munya genuinely on a no-sugar diet? Because they should have given him a sugar-free version, like how they modify some tasks for vegans and vegetarians. Come on, people, we’ve come a long way since Romesh decimated the chicken population of England by knocking all their eggs into that mini-golf course.

- Another Taskmaster running joke that never stops being funny is when a contestant makes a joke guess during a food identification task, such as “petrol or something”, but the editors still write it out in red and put the buzzer over it.

- Well those first three (Fern, Munya, Sarah) did pretty badly, by and large, but I can’t blame them. Normally in food identification tasks, I’m surprised and impressed by how well the contestants do. I think if I had to do something like that, I’d be about on part with these three.

- I thought they might have grouped Dara and John together because they were significantly better at identifying flavours, but it turns out to just be because they were more committed to pretending the food was delicious. Some great facial expressions all around.

- Oh, I like this. I like the really open-ended tasks because it’s fun to see creative interpretations. There are many ways to catch things, as Sarah immediately points out by asking if anyone there has COVID.

1) I love that Fern has taken creativity so far that she can’t think of any normal definitions for “catch”, and is convinced she has to get something that’s alive.

2) Don’t be silly, Alex. Birds aren’t animals.

- Sarah Millican showing up Jessica Knappett with the air horn thing, nice.

- More use of the very dramatic music in this task, I like it.

- Holy hell, I don’t think I’ve heard Alex swear on Taskmaster before. Even Bridget Christie didn’t get that out of him.

- Well, I thought when they were first announced that John and Munya’s ideas were both way to ambitious for them to come close, so compared to my expectations I’m impressed. Munya almost caught it several times, which is much more than I thought he’d do from that distance (though really I’m impressed with Alex, he’s the one who threw it so well as Munya just sat on a statue, which was a good idea as I don’t think the Greg-as-Lincoln statue has been used enough since they got it). And John... I mean, he definitely didn’t get it over the house. But I’m still impressed that he caught it, just because catching any ball that small isn’t easy, and he seems like the sort of person who’d be really bad at catching balls. So good for him for throwing a ball a few metres through the air and catching it, I guess.

- I generally don’t believe people should get as many points for a task attempt that was done by the editing team than one they did themselves, and Fern’s here is no exception, she shouldn’t get many points for that. But it is, genuinely, very pretty to look at. Good job, editing team.

- I wrote the above point before seeing the “making of” video, that was quite funny. Thank you for illustrating my point.

- Oh, I liked Sarah’s. Another contestant would have made that happen through video editing too, and it may be an age-related thing that that didn’t occur to Sarah, she set up actual fire and made it look like it was in her hands. I mean, I think she thought there would be some editing involved, as she blew the fire out despite the clearly visible Alex in the background. But that was nice. I like the creativity and the execution.

Is it just me who immediately thought of the Hunger Games book called Catching Fire, before remembering that “to catch fire” is a commonly used expression? I had a moment of thinking, “That’s weird, why is Sarah referencing a young adult fantasy series?” before I remember that “catching fire” is a thing outside that book.

- Okay, Dara’s form of video editing I don’t mind so much because he did play two parts and do multiple things and clearly direct it himself. I liked the short film. He should try to get it commissioned into a feature, it’ll give him something to do after (I can barely bring myself to write this) his other job ends next week.

- Alex muttering “fuck sake” again in the studio made me laugh out loud, which is a problem because my roommate recently got home from vacation. I have to be quiet again now, Alex. Stop doing that.

- I always find it funny when they set a live task and just calculate it wrong, like the paper airplanes in season 12 where none of them scored anything, or the task with weights and coat hangers in season 7 where it ended almost immediately. I feel like this is one of those, as they expected more than two turns. It’s funny to me that when pre-filmed tasks don’t work they can cut them from the final show, but studio tasks they just have to stick with. This was quite a bit less dramatic than the last two live tasks.

- Alex breaking character to laugh at Greg’s toothbrush thrusting is another is another very funny human moment of this episode. There have been a few of those.

- John Kearns wins an episode! I have a feeling it’ll be the only one, but nice that he got one in. I see now why he was on the podcast this week, have to let him talk about his win.

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