#i want to see him screaming into his hands on the bench get animated :((

[thewailingbells]

We’ll Meet Again

AN: This was multiple requests put into one, so if you recently requested something for Jason it should be included in some aspect into this!

You remember him—that sweet boy at Camp Crystal Lake. He was different from the other kids there, to say the least. His head was incredibly large, which, at the time, you assumed was due to some sort of disability. The kids teased him for it, and even the camp counselors made rude remarks about the physical appearance of the boy. You never did, though.

The first time you noticed him was during lunch in the cafeteria. All the kids sat together at different tables, eating and talking, except for him. He held a tray of food in his hands, and he nervously stood in the corner of the room. You saw one of the lunch workers crouch down next to him to comfort him. She seemed to be a young woman with bright, short yellow hair. She pointed to you, seemingly telling the boy to go sit next to you. You were sitting at a table all alone, and you wanted some new friends. You waved at him. He tried to hide behind the woman, but she wouldn’t let him.

The woman came up to you, gently pushing the boy in front of her. “Hello, dear. My name is Pamela. Pamela Voorhees. This is my son, Jason. Would it be okay if he sat next to you?”

You looked at him with wide eyes, not knowing any better. You took in the way he looked; it was odd to you, but you remembered that your parents told you to never judge a book by its cover. You were also desperate for some friends. So, you nodded your head. “Yeah.”

Pamela smiled. The boy, Jason, hesitantly sat down in the seat across from you. Pamela patted his back. “You two have fun now; I need to get back to work.” She leaned down and kissed Jason on the cheek before leaving.

You introduced yourself to him, and he smiled. You began to talk to him about childish things. Your favorite cartoon, your favorite color, your favorite stuffed animal—anything you could think of. He chimed in sparingly. You realized very early in your conversation that he also had a speech impediment. You didn’t mind; it just meant you got to talk more. Before you could tell him about your favorite ice cream flavor, you heard some of the other kids at camp laughing and snickering. You turned your head and saw that they all seemed to be laughing at you, or rather laughing at your new friend.

Jason noticed too. He frowned and looked away. He buried his face in his hands, trying to ignore the stares. You reached out and rubbed his arm. “Don’t worry about them. They’re jerks. I got your back since we’re friends now!”

That’s what you told him. Throughout your month with him at Camp Crystal Lake, that was what you told him every day—that you would be there for him, but you weren’t. Not on Friday, the Thirteenth of 1957.

You were sitting on a bench next to one of the cabins, waiting for Jason. You sat on the bench, reading a book to keep yourself occupied. All of a sudden, a group of kids went running towards the lake. You put your book down and followed the hoard in an attempt to see what all the fuss was about. The kids ran to the dock. You stood on your tiptoes to try and see what was happening. You sighed; it was no use. You shoved yourself through the crowd; that was when you saw him.

It all happened so quickly. You locked eyes with him for a brief moment. There were looks of terror on both of your faces. One of the boys shoved him into the water. You screamed in horror. You began to run towards the water, but you were stopped. A boy behind you yanked your arm, pulling you backward. Before you fought back, you were pushed to the ground, and your vision turned black.

It was 1985. You weren’t sure why you came back to Camp Crystal Lake after all this time. Perhaps it was the feeling of guilt that you hadn’t been able to extinguish over the years. You stared at the “Do Not Enter” sign for quite some time. The camp was closed off due to murders that had previously happened a few years ago in the area. It wasn’t safe to be here; you knew that well, but you had to go. For him, for Jason.

As you stepped foot onto the grounds of the camp, you felt a wave of nostalgia wash over you. You began to walk around the camp, searching for that spot. It took you a while; the camp was larger than you had remembered. Soon enough, you found it. Your heart skipped a beat.

The dock. The dock that Jason was pushed off of. You carefully began to walk across it. When you reached the end, you looked out into the body of water. The body of water that Jason had drowned in. You felt tears prick your eyes. It was too much to handle. You dropped to your knees, violently sobbing.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you wailed over and over again. “I tried to save you! I’m so sorry I couldn’t. Forgive me, please, forgive me.” You tried to catch your breath, but you couldn’t. You screamed at the top of your lungs. A scream full of sadness, anger, and frustration. “They were so cruel. So cruel to you. I’m sorry, Jason Voorhees. You were such a sweet boy,” you said while choking on your tears. “Your mother and I wept over you every day that summer. I wish I could’ve done more for you and her,” you said with a sigh. You wiped away your tears. “The people around here tell stories about you. They say you’re some kind of monster, a freak,” you began to cry again, “but you’re not! You never were! You were my best friend. I miss you, Jason.”

Little did you know, the man you cried for on the dock was watching you. He remembered you. The girl from summer camp. You came back for him. Since his mother’s death, he has felt something in his heart, possibly a feeling of love. Jason couldn’t quite tell. That’s when he noticed you begin to stand up. He felt panic. You weren’t allowed to leave! He missed you; he needed you.

You collected yourself after an hour of mourning the loss of your friend. You wiped away your tears, fixed your hair, and drank water. After you calmed yourself down, you began to walk away from the dock. It was time for you to go home. You had paid your respects.

Suddenly, a calloused hand slammed over your mouth and another grabbed you roughly by your torso, spinning you around. Your eyes widened as you faced the figure that was towering over you. He was wearing a hockey mask. You let out a worried whimper from behind the large palm that was keeping you silent. Surprisingly, the man sensed your discomfort and shook his head. He was trying to silently communicate with you, but you didn't know what he wanted.

The masked figure took his hand off of your mouth. He held his hand up to where his mouth would be and made a shushing motion. You did not want to anger the man, so you stayed quiet. He took a deep breath. He knew this would be the only way to calm you down. He let go of your torso before reaching up to grab onto his mask. He gripped the bottom of the mask and lifted it over his face. 

You let out a loud gasp of shock. “No, no, you're not him. You can’t be. This isn't funny, you know!” The man's face was deformed, just like Jason’s used to be. The same dents and lumps from his condition, hydrocephalus. “He drowned you, fucker! Jason Voorhees drowned! He was my best friend, and he drowned! If this is some kind of cruel joke, knock it off,” you yelled at the man in anger. He averted his eyes to look at the ground, feeling some type of shame. Perhaps it was because of the way you yelled at him, but you would never know. 

“Oh my God,” you said in a quiet voice. “Jason? Jason, is that you?” He nodded his head. You ran into his arms, holding him tightly. “Jason! Jason! I missed you so much! I’m sorry for everything! I tried to save you! One of the boys pushed me to the ground, and when I woke up, you were… I even can’t say it. I searched for you with your mother every night, and now you’re here! In front of me!” You hadn’t noticed it, but tears began to stream down your cheeks. 

Jason couldn’t stand to look at you in your depressed state any longer. He pulled you a hug. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t hugged someone since 1957. You were so warm, small, and fragile compared to him. His heart swelled when you nuzzled yourself into his shoulder. After awhile you tried to pull out of Jason’s tight hug. His grip tightened. That was when you realized, he was never going to let you go.

#jason voorhees x reader #jason voorhees #friday the 13th #friday the thirteenth #slasher x reader #slashers x reader

[oh-meretseger]

part 5 - The Party

attack on titan modern college au // Jean Kirstein x fem!reader

notes: mostly sfw, a little fluff (I’m posting the smut part tomorrow, it was SO unbelievably long I had to cut it😭 I’m unable to write shortly about anything smutty I’m sorry shdnxmdh), mentions of alcohol, drug use

word count: 3,6k

"MARCO!"

"WHAT" Sasha screamed as they froze and both her head and Connie's cake covered face snapped in perfect sync.

"Man, you made it!" Jean took the man in his arms with the happiest grin plastered on his face, Sasha, then Connie quickly joining them as they jumped right onto them. "Connie, your face!"

"Sorry, bro" he stepped back as he tried to wipe chunks of cupcake from his face, but the man's jacket was already smudged with cherry cream, just like Jean's shirt.

"It's okay, I wanted to wash it anyway" the stranger laughed, and you smiled at him as your eyes met. Jean's eyes shot to you as well, and he immediately jumped to pull you closer.

"Y/n, this is Marco, our childhood friend" he motioned towards him, and you accepted Marco's handshake, returning his friendly smile. His expression was warm and kind, freckles on his nose wrinkling as he beamed with joy. "Marco, this is our own little house rat, Y/n"

You gave Jean a death stare as he and Connie giggled like schoolgirls, his body jolting away from you as you poked a finger between his ribs.

"Nice, couldn't tell you were a wild animal at all" Marco deadpanned and you grinned.

"I'm not, I'm fully domesticated"

"You're such a jerk, why are you so rude?" you heard Sasha hiss at Jean thinking you wouldn't hear, but as always, they were unable to bicker without getting loud.

"I'm not rude, you just have a stick up your ass" Jean snarled at her. You shook your head, having zero clue why they were acting like brawling puppies all night.

"I'll show you a stick up your ass, JEANBO" Sasha yelled, and Niccolo sprang to stop her from trying to pull Jean's pants down without a second thought. In a second, they were a bundle of tangled legs and arms on the floor, shouting and kicking at each other.

You saw more sophisticated behavior in middle school.

"The fuck was that?" Connie's eyes widened at a loud BANG coming from the living room, and swiftly left the kitchen to investigate its source.

"Holy shit, it feels like I'm gonna have a seizure" you put your hands over your ears at the massive overstimulation, and Marco let out a heartfelt laugh. He quickly picked up two ciders from the counter Jean and Sasha were beating each other next to, then handed one to you and put a hand on your shoulder to turn you towards the door.

"Let's go outside. We'll check back when they're done killing each other"

A pleasant relief spread in your chest as you left the noise and complete chaos. Loud music became muffled as soon as Marco closed the glass door to the patio behind him, and soft laughs and chatter hit your ear of those who were sitting outside.

"Y/n! Let me help you with that"

You smiled at Armin and handed over the cider for him to, like the gentleman he was, open the bottle for you while you settled down on the wood bench next to him. "Thank you, Armin"

"Good to see you, man!" Marco reached over with a happy grin to shake his hand, then leaned over to shake Bert's as well. Annie greeted him with a small wave - they all looked at Marco with such a warm smile, you could feel how loved by everyone he was. "Annie!"

"Marco, s'been a minute! How's everything?" Armin asked while opening Marco's bottle as well, and you took a sip of the strawberry cider, sweet bubbles sizzling on your tongue as your eyes followed Marco's movements. He grazed his palm as a greeting over Mikasa's shoulder who sat next to Armin - she smiled up at him, but kept half an eye on Eren and Reiner, lounging on a pair of chairs a little further away, seemingly having a heated conversation over something sports related. Marco grinned back at Armin while shaking Reiner's hand, then taking Eren's as he mumbled a "hey, bro", immediately getting back to the vital argument they were having.

"Nothing much, working. I had to come and catch up with you guys though, how's uni life?"

"What the hell are they so pressed over?" you asked Mikasa in a low voice as you motioned towards the two athlete bros, trying not to disturb Armin and Marco's coversation.

"Don't even ask" Mikasa shook her head, her gorgeous black strands of hair moving around her face, shining in the faint light coming through the glass door to the patio. "It's just some statistics, or whatever. But Eren's been irritated all day, so even some stupid numbers can get him worked up, I'm afraid"

You looked over to Eren, lighting a blunt as he was listening to Reiner talk. You often saw his face around campus just like this, grumpy and unmoved by anyone and anything happening around him, but Mikasa knew him like the back of her hand. If she said he was unusually irritated, there was no room for doubt.

The grumpiness on his face seemed to quickly dissolve anyway as Marco and Armin's conversation started to spread across the table, getting Annie, Bert and Mikasa, then shortly after Eren and Reiner involved as they told you where they all knew each other from, what childhood or high school memories they shared, and how the strings of their lives still interweaved from time to time - even though everyone went on to different colleges, jobs and paths of life.

To answer their curious questions, you even talked about how you were completely new not only around this town, but to this whole state, attending this college being a fresh new start for you. And about how you were so happy to have met them here.

The small amount of alcohol and all the funny and endearing stories they shared made you forget about any anxiety you previously had about this party. You really felt like you were at home as you looked around to see their glimmering eyes, and faces glowing with joy as they laughed.

Even Eren seemed to forget about their super important battle of numbers with Reiner when they pulled their chair closer to the table to join memory lane.

"You want a hit?" Eren's hand suddenly appeared in front of you, holding the blunt that was obviously on its last legs. You turned your head to meet his low-lidded green eyes, and Reiner's eyes shot to you at your movement. He flashed his million dollar grin at you, and you bashfully smiled back at him. God, he was handsome.

"No, thanks" you smiled at Eren, amused at how much more relaxed he looked than before. To Mikasa's greatest delight, it seemed.

"Where are your glasses?"

"I've decided not to be short-sighted anymore" you shrugged, and Eren shook his head at your reply as a grin formed on his face.

"Yeah, you shouldn't let some object define you anyway" he played into your joke, and you nodded.

"That's what I'm saying"

"Where's your king of sarcasm by the way, Your Royal Highness?" Eren smirked at you, and you instantly felt yourself blush at the unexpected question. You dropped your eyes to look at your fingers as they started to fidget. You both knew who your king was, but at that moment, you would've done anything to avoid admitting it.

"I saw him playing beer pong inside, they're on a winning streak with Connie" Marco appeared next to you with two bottles in hand, cold and fresh from the refrigerator. You felt your cheeks getting even warmer as you looked up at his happy grin, accepting the bottle he held out to you. He knew.

"Thank you, Marco" you muttered, and quickly reached out to grab the bottle opener. You were more than happy to do something with your hands to hide your sudden nervousness.

"He told me about you, you know" Marco went on in a lower voice as he sat back down next to you, so only you could hear him.

Your heart started to pound faster in your chest. Jean told him about you?

"He did?" you replied hesitantly, not sure what to think. "And what- What did he tell you?"

"Well" Marco smiled back. "He told me about a cute little nerd he often annoys for fun"

"Of course he'd say that" you mumbled, fingers rubbing the bridge of your nose as you tried to hide the blush of your cheeks. Cute..? "I don't know about the cute part though, I'm pretty sure you misunderstood 'loser'"

"You think so?" Marco let out a heartfelt laugh. "I'm pretty sure I heard him right. Jean doesn't really gush over any girl, so him saying 'cute' caught my ear"

Your eyes dropped once again to your fidgeting hands, but you couldn't help a smile curving your lips.

"Could be anyone, a lot of cute girls compete to entertain him around campus on the regular"

"Jesus, you two really are the exact same person" Marco laughed, and you looked up at him flustered and confused at what he meant. "Look, through a difficult investigation, I found out he liked this smart, pretty girl with a bad eyesight, who likes reading her crime novels curling up under her nightlight, blushes easily, and whose bitter jokes he finds hilarious, but would never admit to it. I'm quite sure that can't be anyone"

You felt your stomach flip at the thought of Jean not only knowing you, but paying such attention to particular details about you. You couldn't have described the feeling even if you wanted to - but despite the sudden nausea and nervous fluttering of your heart, you couldn't help your smile growing into a grin at Marco's words.

You felt like you were on cloud nine.

"Are you sure Jean said that?"

"Yep" his bottle momentarily covered Marco's smile as he took another sip, examining your happily flushed cheeks under the dim light. "Why is it so hard to believe? I thought you both liked each other"

A few seconds of silence sat between you as you fought the tension straining your chest from inside. The tension that held you back from admitting your feelings up to this point, not only to someone else but even to yourself.

"I- I do. It's not that" you muttered in a small voice. "We've just been bullying each other for so long now, it's-"

You nervously paused as Marco let out a chuckle.

"It's hard to believe he'd look at me like that" you looked into Marco's joyful brown eyes. He truly found you and Jean floundering around entertaining.

"I know Jean. Believe me when I say he's actually smitten with you" he replied, making your fluttering heart almost jump out of your chest. "He's not gonna admit that though. You two like suffering in silence, as I can see"

You let out a quiet chuckle. As you looked at Marco's genuine, caring smile, you felt like this was the right moment to finally be truthful, that you were ready to open up. But before an honest answer could leave your mouth, the glass door to the patio flew open, and Sasha bursted out of the living room with Niccolo by her side.

"Guys, you won't believe what I just found in Connie's kitchen"

"It's nice to finally see you, too, Sasha" Mikasa replied to Sasha's choice of entry while Niccolo shook hands with the guys, already familiar to all of their faces.

Inside the house, the party reached its loudest, most chaotic peak. Loud banging of the music and shouting of the guests filled the basement, the kitchen and the living room. Guests being random faces of people not even Connie knew - the product of having your front door open to anyone without an invitation. But Connie couldn't care less.

Girls surrounded them in the back room, giggling as Connie threw the winner shot, jumping with a victorious yell as he hit the final cup. His audience was cheerful and tipsy, and that was all Connie needed to have an amazing and carefree time.

"I'll look for Marco" Jean waved his hand towards the living room, but Connie stopped him with a palm slapping on his shoulder.

"You can't leave me, we're on a winning streak!"

"You'll be fine, Connie" Jean patted Connie's hand gripping him, smirking over to all the bystander girls watching with gleaming eyes, waiting on their chance to join the team of the king of beer pong himself. "I'll be with Marco if you need me"

"But I need you NOW" Connie squealed, and Jean turned his back to him with a chuckle, shaking his head as he left the room.

Jean pushed himself through the sea of bodies moving and dancing in the living room, careful to dodge the plastic cups full of alcoholic beverages that all the drunken hands flung around in the air. Getting use of his height, his hazel eyes panned the room as he towered over most of the dancers, but beside a few familiar faces, he found none of the ones he was looking for. Not a sign of Armin and the guys, Sasha and Niccolo, Marco, or you...

He faced towards the stairs to the basement, but swiftly changed his direction when he saw a bunch of people occupying the steps. Knowing you and Marco, he was positive he wouldn't find you in an area so loud and crowded.

"Hey, Jean!" a shout exceeding the deafening music hit his ears and his eyes quickly followed its direction, Sasha's waving hand catching his eye. She pushed people standing in her way without a second thought, her eyes wide with excitement.

"Where are you guys?" Jean yelled as they reached each other in the crowd, and Sasha motioned towards the door to the patio.

"Y/n is out there with Marco" she replied, and Jean's heart jumped with a nervous beat as Sasha mentioned your name. "The others want to talk to you too, go!"

Sasha tapped his shoulder, encouraging him to step outside, then she continued her brutal way to the kitchen, elbowing and kicking anyone who was unfortunate enough to be in her way. Jean shook his head as he laughed to himself, then turned his head towards the patio.

With Marco?

What did Sasha mean you were outside with Marco? With Marco, like you two were only in the presence of each other, outside of the whole group?

Jean couldn't help a small little string of jealousy twist in his chest as he thought about you, and the first glimpse he caught of you tonight. How his heart was beating in his throat as you caught his eye, and how a mix of electric sparks and warmth spread in his body as he looked at yours.

The tight dress hugged your body just right, you tried to hide it under the oversized jacket, but the beautiful curve of your waist, your hips still showed underneath as you moved. He felt the blood rush right out of his brain, straight to his groin, as his eyes ran over the soft skin of your thighs showing where your pretty little dress was slit. He just realized tonight - he's never seen your knees, the curve of your calves, those delicate ankles... Jean immediately imagined them on his shoulders, and had to force himself to quickly shake off the thought. He's not a horny high schooler, for fuck's sake... The fluttering of his heart would've diverted his mind anyway as he gazed at your gorgeous face, your silky, soft strands of hair framing it as they fell to your shoulders. Beautiful, big doe eyes looked at Bert and Reiner as you talked to them, light glistening on your sweet lips as you spoke.

Fuck.

This was the second time he felt jealous today. What even got to him? Jean wasn't sure, but he quickly shook off these thoughts as he realized he had no reason to feel this way. He knew Marco, Marco knew about you, and you... Jean was pretty sure he knew where you two standed.

Waking from his momentary daydream, he pushed his way through the crowd of people to reach the glass door, then opened it to step out on the dimly lighted patio. Jean felt a sense of relief as a cool breeze moved the strands of his combed back hair and tickled his face. A similar tingling started to form in his chest as among the others, you caught his eye - sitting at the table, laughing wholeheartedly with that breathtaking smile of yours, as Marco put a blanket over your shoulders to protect you from the chilly night air.

Jean couldn't help clenching his jaw.

"Jean, where've you been? Want one?" Reiner called out to him with a grin as he grabbed a can of beer from the table. Jean caught the can flying towards him in the air, and threw it right back to Reiner with that same momentum.

"Nah, but thanks, Reiner"

As Reiner drew everyone's attention to Jean, all cheerful faces turned to him, eyes beaming with joy at the sight of him. You noticed that, and you heard the happiness in all of their voices as they greeted him, even though they'd already met earlier.

You looked at him. The Jean standing in front if you was so different from the arrogant prick you saw in him a few months ago - in this moment, it made perfect sense why he was so loved by every one of his friends.

"Jean, finally! C'mere" Marco waved for him to come closer, and your eyes nervously dropped to your lap as Jean's eyes panned over to you and Marco.

He looked exceptionally fine in the dark button-up shirt he wore tonight. Rolled up sleeves letting those damn perfect forearms be seen, collar hugging those damn beautiful muscles of his neck that simply screamed to be kissed. The dark trousers and the belt hugging his hips looked so mouth-watering, it made you want to rip them off when you put your arms around his waist earlier. Not even talking about how your stomach kept doing backflips as you looked at his pretty face. Stubble making his jawline look even sharper, his beautiful eyes under frowned eyebrows looking at Marco as Jean talked to him, the straight line of his nose driving your eyes right to his inviting lips, glistening a bit as his tongue ran over them before he bit down on his lower lip... His eyes burning right into yours as you suddenly became aware that you were staring.

He caught you.

"I'll be right back" you jumped to your feet, pushing the blanket off to the bench as you left the table. You had to be alone for a minute. This evening was becoming too intense.

"Where are you going?" Sasha asked worried as she put her arm in front of you, stopping you in the doorway, and you looked at her with a reassuring smile.

"Just to the restroom. Do you know where it is?"

"Sure, it's at the end of the hallway next to the stairs" Sasha's thumb showed the way, pointing back above her shoulder. "But I think you should use the one in the master bedroom upstairs. It's closed for all these randos, but you can go in, Connie wouldn't mind"

After getting the directions from Sasha to find the key, you pushed your way through the brutal crowd in the living room, making your way up the stairs between shouting, drinking strangers, even a drunkenly kissing couple. You fished out the key to the master bedroom from a plant pot, just like Sasha said, then easily unlocked the door, quickly closing it back behind yourself.

You pressed your back to the door with a sigh of relief. Silence, finally.

"What are you acting so grumpy for?" Marco laughed as Jean sank down to the bench beside him, right where you just stood up from.

"M'not grumpy, the hell are you talking about?" Jean frowned at Marco and accepted the empty glass he passed to him.

"You wouldn't be if you heard what we talked about" Marco smiled while grabbing a bottle of whisky, pouring some in the glass he just handed to Jean. That just made Jean's frown deepen even more with confusion.

"Why, what'd you talk about?" he asked as he slowly raised the glass to his lips, a wondering shimmer in his hazel eyes.

"You" Marco's finger poked into Jean's chest, and he just looked at Marco's entertained grin completely confused.

"Me?"

"You, man" Marco nodded. He was absolutely amused at the curious hesitance showing on Jean's face.

"And what... What did she say?"

"Well, Sasha almost blew it, but she did tell me eventually..."

You stood in front of the mirror above the sink, and examined your face while you washed your hands. You felt like you looked different. You felt different. Even though huge parties like this made you feel severly overwhelmed, you still felt an immense joy about how great it felt to be with people you grew to like so much, people you could call your friends.

And Jean...

It felt like a hundred little butterflies woke up in your stomach as you thought of Jean, and you smiled at your reflection. Maybe you were a little tipsy, but the usual embarrassment you felt when you thought of the dirty little memories you shared, was nowhere to be found. A knot of excitement started to form in its place instead.

You wanted to talk to him again. You had to hear him, touch him, feel him.

You burst into the bedroom, hurrying straight to the door, then just when you placed your hand on the doorknob, a sudden voice made you nearly jump out of your own skin.

"Where's the rush, smarty-pants?"

#attack on titan #aot #attack on titan x you #aot x you #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan x y/n #aot x y/n #attack on titan fluff #aot fluff #attack on titan smut #aot smut #attack on titan fanfiction #aot fanfiction #jean kirstein #jean kirschtein #jean #jean kirstein x you #jean x you #jean kirstein x reader #jean x reader #jean kirstein x y/n #jean x y/n #jean kirstein fluff #jean kirstein smut #jean kirstein fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin #snk

[ezziefae]

Thoughts while reading The Prisoners Throne Excerpt

Here's a rushed annotation of some parts of the excerpt that really drew my attention. Jurdan fans be ready for many surprises.

"Imagine you have a weapon. They had been in Vivi’s second apartment, standing on a small metal balcony. Inside, Taryn and Vivi had been fussing over Leander, who was learning to crawl. The Ghost had asked about Oak’s training and been uninterested in the excuse that he was eleven, had to go to school, and couldn’t be swinging around a longsword in the common space of the lawn without neighbors getting worried."

(this is a flashback) Taryn’s child makes their first debut!! Taryn named the boy Leander. (I’m assuming its a boy name) Since the Ghost is in Vivi’s apartments could that be a hint that he’s romantically involved with Taryn? Or it could also be that he’s accompanied Taryn to protect her. It's super cool to see The Ghost and Oak training together.

"Oak had actually liked making his own sword. It was huge and black with a bright red hilt covered in demonish faces. It looked like the sword of someone in an anime he’d been watching, and he felt like a badass, holding it in his hands. The sight of Oak’s blade had made the Ghost smile, but he didn’t laugh. Instead, he started moving through a series of exercises, urging Oak to follow. He told the prince should call him by his non‑spy name, Garrett, since they were friends."

Love that Holly is still referencing anime in the Elfhame series. Can we also talk about The Ghost’s character development? In TFOTA series he always kept to himself, and now he’s letting his closest friends call him by his real name.

"The prince has been imprisoned three weeks, according to the tallies he’s made in the dust beneath the lone bench. Long enough to dwell on every mistake he has made on his ill‑fated quest."

THREE WEEKS??? What the heck have Jude and Cardan been doing for three weeks??? I honestly expected for him to be rescued asap. If anything Jude and Cardan have been carefully planning to save oak and I guess that takes a lot of time. 

"His family must be in a panic right now. He trusts that Tiernan got Madoc to Elfhame safely, no matter what the redcap general wanted. But Jude would be furious with Tiernan for leaving Oak behind and even angrier with Madoc, if she guesses just how much of this is his fault."

I really want to see someone from Elfhame’s POV on Jude finding out on Oak being taken prisoner by Wren. I want to see a raging Jude. I’d be terrified to be in Tiernan’s place, since it was his job to protect Oak, and he failed that.

"Possibly Cardan would be relieved to be rid of Oak, but that wouldn’t stop Jude from making a plan to get him back. Jude has been ruthless on Oak’s behalf before, but this is the first time it’s scared him. Wren is dangerous. She is not someone to cross. Neither of them are."

OHH??? OHHH???? So many things are thrown at us here. Oak has a reason to believe that Cardan doesn’t like him??? To the point where Oak believes Cardan would even be RELIEVED to get rid of him? That was SUPER unexpected. Oak finally takes it in that neither Wren or Jude are people to cross. As much as I hate saying this, I want a Jude and Wren fight. That would be amazing. Not saying I want either of them to die, or get hurt, but that would be an intense scene. 

“I can do better,” he says. “And perhaps you might bring me a little gossip to cheer the chilly monotony of my days.” “You’re very silly, Your Highness,” she says after a moment, biting her bottom lip a little.

Oak is using his most dangerous power, seduction. Screaming. 

"He remembers Oriana’s warning to him when he was a child. A power like the one you have is dangerous, she said. You can know what other people most want to hear. Say those things, and they will not only want to listen to you. They will come to want you above all other things. The love that a gancanagh inspires—some may pine away for desire of it. Others will carve the gancanagh to pieces to be sure no one else has it."

I'm so glad holly is diving deep into this, We know that Locke also had this power, and how he was wielding it in TFOTA series. 

"That night, he wakes to the sight of a snake crawling down the wall, its black metal body jeweled and glittering. A forked emerald tongue tastes the air at regular intervals, like a metronome. It startles him badly enough for him to back up against the bars, the iron hot against his shoulders. He has seen creatures like it before, forged by the great smiths of Faerie. Valuable and dangerous. The paranoid thought comes to him that poison would be one straightforward way to solve the problem of his being held by an enemy of Elfhame. If he were dead, there’d be no reason to pay a ransom."

Oak sees this snake, and he immediately thinks it was sent from elfhame to kill him. Which is insane for him to believe that. 

"He doesn’t think his sister would allow it, but there are those who might risk going around her. Grima Mog, the new grand general, would know exactly where to find the prince, having served the Court of Teeth herself. Grima Mog might look forward to the war it would start. And, of course, she answered to Cardan as much as Jude."

"Not to mention there was always the possibility that Cardan convinced Jude that Oak was a danger to them both."

WHAT IS THIS DISAPPROVAL CARDAN HAS ON OAK?? The fact that Oak believes Cardan sent the snake to KILL HIMM, that's absolute madness. Like what the helll did this man do to Oak to make him feel this way?? Cryingggg. 

"It yawns widely enough for him to see silver fangs. The links of its body move, and a ring comes up from its throat, clanging to the floor. He leans down and lifts it. A gold ring with a deep blue stone, scuffed with wear. His ring, a present from his mother on his thirteenth birthday and left behind on his dresser because it no longer fit his finger. Proof that this creature was sent from Elfhame. Proof that he was supposed to trust it."

THIS IS THE RING THAT'S ON THE COVER!! Now we know what the ring means to Oak!!

“Prinss,” it says. “In three daysssss, you mussss be ready for resssss‑cue.” “Rescue?” Not here to poison him, then. The snake just stares with its cold, glittering eyes.

Okay so Jude sent a snake as a messenger to Oak, to let him know that they're coming to save him in three days. Cool….coool.

“Give me longer,” he says, no matter that it’s ridiculous to negotiate with a metal snake and even more ridiculous to negotiate for his own imprisonment, just in order to get a chance to speak with someone who refuses to see him. “Two more weeks perhaps. A month.”

THIS STUBBORN BOYYYYYY. Oh I know Jude would be absolutely furious for that.

"Oak slides the ring onto his pinkie finger, watching the snake as it coils its way up the wall. Halfway to the ceiling, he realizes that just because it wasn’t sent to poison him doesn’t mean it wasn’t sent to poison someone."

BIG MISTAKE MISTER SNAKE, BIGGGGG MISTAKEEEE.

He jumps onto the bench and grabs for it, catching the end of its tail. With a tug, it comes off the wall, falling against his body and coiling around his forearm. “Prinsssss,” it hisses. As it opens its mouth to speak, he notes the tiny holes in the points of its silvery fangs. When it does not strike, Oak pries the snake carefully from around his arm. Then, gripping the end of its tail firmly, he slams it down against the stone bench. Hears the cracking of its delicate mechanical parts. A gem flies off. So does a piece of metal. He whips it against the bench again.

Oak really said “oh hell no, you're not killing the women i love, nah uh,” and then proceeds to kill it in a very violent unsettling manner. Everyone was right when they said that Oak was like Madoc.

Straun spits on the floor in front of the prince’s cage. “No amount of gold or gems will save you. If my winter queen wants you to rot here, you’re going to rot.” “Your winter queen?” Oak repeats, unable to stop himself. The falcon looks a little shamefaced and turns to go back to his post. He’s young, Oak realizes. Older than Oak, but not by so very much. Younger than Hyacinthe. It shouldn’t be a surprise that Wren made such an impression on him. It shouldn’t bother Oak, shouldn’t fill him with a ferocious jealousy.

THE JEALOUSY HAS ME CACKLING. He was imprisoned, neglected in his cell by wren and yet he's jealous whenever someone else has lovey dovey eyes for wren. This man is so down for wren, and I don’t blame him. 

The Ghost taught him how to move stealthily, but he’s never been very good at it. He blames his hooves, heavy and hard. They clack at the worst possible times. But he makes an effort, sliding them against the floor to minimize noise.

Super cool to see how much The Ghost has impacted Oak's skills. The court of shadows in general has been a huge part in Oak’s training and it shows.

Oak moves fast, jerking Straun backward and covering his nose and mouth with the cloth. The guard struggles, but inhaling blusher mushroom slows his movements. Oak presses him to the floor until he’s unconscious.

THERE WE GOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Welp, The excerpt ends in Oak escaping his cell…..after all thar chaos i've become too impatient. Just 3 Months until this book comes out !!! 

#CARDAN DOESNT LIKE OAK?? THATS INSANE #JUDE AND CARDAN ARE REALLY COMING BACK #jude duarte #holly black #the folk of the air #jurdan #oak greenbriar #the prisoners throne #elfhame #the stolen heir #cardan greenbriar #the cruel prince #The Prisoners Throne Peeks

[curufiin]

I Wish I Broke Mirrors

“Instead of promises, 'Cause all I see is a shattered conscience staring right back at me.”

5.7k / warnings: graphic burning, passing smut, one curufinrod story / also on ao3

The first thoughts that entered Curufinwë’s mind when his wife bore him his heir was not one of love or affection. Instead, he found himself looking down at the newborn, still slick with blood, and wondered to himself: is he supposed to look like that?

He was smaller than expected, but no less pink and plump than any other baby, like some defeathered bird that seemed strangely small without its plumage. In fact, he could recall himself thinking that his new son seemed a little… pathetic. A year of work, of panicking and confusion and sleepless nights fretting for the welfare of his wife and his child, of wondering what the hell he was thinking when he pledged his love, everything led up to this moment, and he expected to feel appropriately amazed, like he had made some grand creation beyond the skill of even the Valar. Instead, he felt… maybe just a little more stressed than usual. He did not like all this blood.

Curufin called for the servants to clean up the mess, and promptly left the room without comment.

Later then, when the child was finally cleaned, wrapped in cloth, and no longer screaming with the same ferocity as a rabid animal, he finally held his new son in his arms. Something stirred within him. Was this how Fëanáro felt as he held him? It was only then that he whispered to his son, neither of them truly knowing what he was saying, “I will protect you, my son. I will love you unto the end of Arda.”

***

“No, Tyelpë- wear your gloves. Hold the hammer like this.”

“I don’t want to wear them, Ata-! My hands get sweaty!”

Curufinwë sighed and rubbed at his temples. “You have to, or you’ll get hurt.” However, it was clear from Tyelpërinquar’s growing pout that his son was not going to comply any time soon. He set down his hammer atop his work bench, took off his gloves and his apron, and bade his son to come to him.

Even when he was younger, when his walk was more of a waddle than anything else, when he would point at something and shout either “Ata!” or “Ammë!” until someone understood, Curufinwë could see that his son was destined for greatness. He didn’t know why. It wasn’t as if his son was born under the full bloom of either of the trees like he was, and no Vala had come to fetch him away to study under their wing (he was still quite upset at Tyelkormo for seemingly abandoning his family for so many years without even so much as a half hearted note that he’ll miss them). If he wasn’t a prince, some passersby might even say that his son looked just as unremarkable as he did when he was born, but Curufinwë knew he saw something they did not.

There was a glint in little Tyelpë’s eyes the moment he was first brought into the forge, eyes wide as he peered over Curufinwë’s shoulders at Fëanáro hammering away at a new necklace. When he was given the smallest chisel to hold, Tyelpë laughed with glee as if rejoicing that his grandfather somehow knew that he would carry on their legacy as crafters. He told Curufinwë that when he became of age, and Curufinwë knew Fëanáro had a questionable definition of “of age”, that he was to be taught the art of jewelry making immediately.

He will make history, Curufinwë thought idly to himself on a past balmy afternoon, watching his son run around the front yard. His name will be known across Arda. It must be.

He lifted Tyelpë up into his arms with a grunt. “You’ve grown, haven’t you? You’re heavier than I remember.” A kiss was pressed to his son’s forehead, and he earned a giggle in response. “My little Tyelpë has grown so much, yet he still does not know the importance of workplace safety.”

“I don’t like wearing gloves,” Tyelpë protested again, laying his head against the nook of Curvo’s neck. “I’ll be super careful. I won’t get hurt.”

“You don’t know that,” a soft chuckle came from Curufinwë as memory rushed over him. He was still young, too young to know that sometimes uncomfortable things are necessary. He did not think the metal would still be so hot. “Even when I was being careful, I’ve hurt myself. I don’t want you to hurt yourself, Tyelpërinquar.”

Tyelpë’s face, without warning, grew dark. “Will I die if I get hurt?”

Curufinwë froze. “What?”

“Am I gonna die, Atar? Like… like grandpa Fëanáro’s Ammë did.”

In truth, he did not know what to say. Each word he tried to send out felt stuck, like an insect that flew blindly into a spider’s web, and no matter how hard he tried, the only sound he could make was a vague sputter. And Tyelpë’s next reply— “that’s what happened, right? She got hurt. And she died. And Grandpa Fëanáro is still upset about it.” —did not help matters at all.

“No,” he finally forced himself to say, holding his son tight in his arms. “You won’t die. I’ll make sure of it- I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

Much to his pleasure, Tyelpërinquar seemed content with his reply. He sat his son back down, and knelt to his level. “Put your gloves on now, will you?”

***

Curufinwë frowned at the taste of blood in his mouth as he sheathed his sword. Before him was a bloodbath— bodies of Noldor and Teleri strewn about like hay in a barn, pools of red staining the sand and washing into the Sea. It felt like yesterday when his father perfected the Silmarils, only to lock it away within the depths of Formenos, and for Morgoth to steal what was supposed to be their family heirloom, killing King Finwë in the process.

The word still felt foreign on his tongue. Kill. Before now and save for Míriel, no elf had died on the blessed lands, much less from another’s hand. Yesterday (or what felt like yesterday), Morgoth slew Finwë in his own house. Today, they are the ones who would take lives.

He wiped away a thin streak of blood trailing down his cheek from a small cut, ignored the dents in his armor and the gash on his shoulder blade, and tried to make out names amongst the pile of bodies as he walked along the shore, hoping to whatever vain power watching that he would not be able to recognize any of the faces. “Tyelpë?” Calling out with a trembling voice, his speed walk broke into a run. “Tyelpë?! Where are you? Tyelpë!”

Pain gripped at his chest, the distant fear that he would find his son dead encroaching ever closer with each moment spent searching. He didn’t know what he would do if his son was dead. He didn’t want to think about it. So, he did not think, only kept running, pushing past those who were still well enough to stand.

“Curvo! Come here!”

Between his own panic, the tears that stained his eyes making it difficult to see, and the ever growing ringing in his ears, Curufinwë ran blindly towards the voice, with little idea of who it belonged to, or whether or not he simply imagined the voice in the first place.

For once, Tyelkormo’s bloodied figure was a sight for sore eyes. Behind him was a smaller elf clad in light armor, clinging to his arms and trembling. “Tyelpë,” Curufinwë reached forth, scooping his son into his arms, and held back a sob as best as he can. “Oh- oh, my son, my gem… don’t cry, I’m here. You’re going to be alright. I love you.” He glanced up at Tyelkormo, who had backed off away from the pair, arms crossed loosely in front of his chest. “Was he hurt?”

“No,” his brother muttered in response, and herded them both onto the ship where the rest of his brothers and his father waited. Tyelpë was lead below the deck to check for injuries (a demand from a paranoid Curufinwë), while he and Tyelkormo stayed atop.

Now that they were out of earshot, Tyelkormo finally allowed his disdain to show like foul, noxious blooms. “Why the hell did you drag him along?”

“What are you trying to say, Tyelkormo?”

“Curvo, my fucking god. You brought Tyelpë with you? What the hell was going through your mind when you thought that was a good idea?”

A sudden rage flared up in Curufinwë, and he made not even a half hearted attempt at restraining the flames of his fury as it erupted full force towards his brother. “You would want me to abandon my own son, Tyelkormo?” The icy sharpness of his usual anger was all but gone. He wanted to strangle his brother, throw him overboard for even daring to suggest that he should’ve left Tyelpë behind with a woman who did not even care enough to follow him into exile out of love for her own son. “What would you have me do then? Leave him to a hoard of traitors who only wish to sit idly in their homes, praying to powers which will not answer our cries?! Is that what you want me to do, leave him to fend for himself on lands that do not care about him?!”

“Curvo, for fuck’s sake! He’s barely an adult!” Tyelkormo fired back with equal ferocity.

Indignation coursed through Curufinwë’s veins, his fists wound tight beside him, teeth gritting together with enough force to crack stone. “Forgive me, I did not know you were his father,” he hissed. “Why, yes, I shall trust your wisdom on how to best care for the boy, when you have only ever raised a dog, one that you received as a gift because you abandoned us.”

He ignored the dozens of eyes staring at them, ignored the soft whispers of judgement spreading throughout the boat. If they think him a monster for not wanting to leave his son to the false gods that have only ever tried to cage them, then so be it. Only a father would understand the sacrifices one must make for their child. Descending down the steps to the cabins, Curufinwë sat down beside Tyelpë, arm wound around the other’s still trembling body as his son sobbed lightly into his chest.

“They’re- they’re dead, Atar,” Tyelpë whimpered pitifully.

Curufinwë sighed. “I know, little one. But think of them not as could’ve been husbands and could’ve been wives, do not ponder the lives they might’ve led. Perhaps in another life, the Teleri might’ve lent us their aid in our time of suffering, and none of this would’ve happened. Here, now, however, they are traitors to our cause, do you understand that?”

A slight movement against his chest alerted him to his son’s nodding. Curufinwë smiled. “Good boy. Remember, let not your friends seek your good graces, only to spurn you when you seek their aid against a greater enemy, for evil thrives in ignorance and inaction.”

Tyelpë sobbed into his chest, and that is when Curufinwë knew there was nothing else for him to say. With a kiss to his son’s head and soothing whispers, he carried Tyelpë and laid him down on a bed. “I love you, my gem. And I’ll never, ever leave you. I promise.”

—

Ash and fire were all Tyelpërinquar could smell on his father for the next several weeks. Curufinwë first wailed when he returned to Hithlum— he did not know whether for his own wounds, or for the loss of Grandfather.

He often tried to avoid his father’s tent, especially when he first returned; even looking at his father’s wounds made him grimace. The way Curufinwë stared through him, however, told him that he hardly registered the burns. He was crying for Fëanáro. And upon hearing how Grandfather had passed, Tyelpë knew all too well where those burns came from.

Days later, the screaming came. He watched Curufinwë writhe on the bed as Tyelkormo did his best to relieve his pain and heal his flesh, shouting with delirium about leaving the burns below his neck alone. He said something about how wanted the scars to remain, as a reminder to himself what the war against Morgoth had cost them, yet Tyelpë could not help but wonder if whatever displays of symbolism and reverence was worth the mind numbing pain his father must’ve felt, for each instance came the time to change bandages, Curufinwë would scream and scream until his throat was raw and tears flowed freely from his eyes.

The next time he visited his father was during one of his pain induced deliriums.

“You came…” Curufinwë muttered weakly, reaching out with a bandaged hand.

Tyelpë swallowed. He did not consider the fact he would actually have to converse with his father when he decided to stick his nose in the tent, much less the fact that Curufinwë would no doubt begin a long lecture about his failure to see him, his lack of manners, and whatever other scoldings he had in mind. He forced himself to still his heart and mind. It would be improper to leave before he’s even greeted his injured father.

Instead of Curufinwë’s typical rhetorical questions that always paved the way to a scolding, he was met with a chilling word from the other.

“…Father.”

If he hadn’t wanted to run before, Tyelpë certainly did now. It frightened him to know that even as Curufinwë laid on his bed, bandages soaked with blood and pus, all he could think of was Fëanáro. Fëanáro, who had already been claimed by the fires of his own soul, the same fire that burned his flesh.

Curufinwë shifted on the bed with a soft moan. “I- should’ve… been behind you,” he uttered, staring beyond his not-son at the cream stitchings of the tent. “I should’ve. I should’ve done so many things.”

He blinked at ‘Fëanáro’, who stood tall and silent and unmoving, a great marble statue with eyes downcast in judgement. “I know you… cannot forgive me. I cannot forgive me either. We were so… so close…”

“But you- you will forgive me,” he turned away then, and Tyelpë found himself releasing a breath he did not know he was holding. “I will not… let the Enemy possess what is yours by right, Father. I will avenge you. I will.”

The very air itself seemed to choke the life out of Tyelpërinquar’s lungs, and Curufinwë’s words were like great black claws squeezing ever tighter around his throat. He could not stay here for another second. He did not want to stay here for another second. Tyelpë turned then, and ran, forcing his eyes close so that he would not think about the last phrase out of Curufinwë’s mouth:

“For you, Father… I must.”

***

It was almost a relief seeing Finrod again; it was some return to normalcy, and Curufin knew that his cousin was still grieving over the loss of his brothers to the fires of the Black Foe. But had it not been for them, Finrod would’ve lost a nephew as well— Orodreth was tattered and beaten when they carried him from the battlefield, but not dead, and under the gentle hands of Nargothrond’s healers, he would recover in no time.

Finrod had thrown a great feast at their coming. To call it lavish would’ve been a great understatement for the table laden with piles upon piles of food and drink, the sparkling chandeliers crafted of crystal and casting brilliant rainbows across the great hall, and the very centerpiece of it all, Finrod himself.

He shined as if he was Laurelin personified, his golden hair gleaming from the firelight, and on his neck was clasped the Nauglamír, equally beautiful as Finrod himself. Curufin noted between sips of wine that his cousin looked remarkably like one of the Ainur, so breathtaking in his visage and his pale robes. His people loved him, and he was fueled by their adoration, focusing that energy into ever grander projects that turned Nargothrond from simply a hidden city to a rival of Tírion itself.

And so, Curufin indulged himself like he hadn’t done so for so many years. The food was excellent, as was the wine, but he found himself wanting something else altogether. His gaze landed on his cousin, and he sighed.

They came to the halls seeking respite, but Curufin suspected respite was not all that Finrod seeked. The party carried on just fine without them; Celegorm always knew how to please the crowds, and Celebrimbor seemed to have found himself in a passionate discussion about the architecture of Nargothrond.

“Funny that we always seem to run into each other,” Finrod laughed, face flushed from alcohol. He held another glass of wine in his hand. “I thought I’d never see you again, and I had… made peace with that. I’m glad to be proven wrong.”

“As am I, Ingo.” Curufin’s heart fluttered at the nickname; how he had dreamt of saying it for years upon years now, praying to unanswering Valar that he may see his love one more time. Perhaps the Valar do still watch over him. He may never know- but he knows he cannot let this moment go to waste.

Their lips met in a clandestine kiss, Finrod’s hand reaching up to cup his cheek and pull him closer as he set the glass of wine aside. It was enough to bring tears to Curufin’s eyes, tears which he eagerly blinked away as he drank in the taste of Finrod, of wine and sweet nothings and daydreams came true. He did not protest when Finrod tugged at his hair or sank his teeth into his nape, and only voiced concern when they mutually felt the need to undress.

“What if- what if someone sees…?”

“Let them,” Finrod said dismissively, tracing the shape of Curufin’s hips.

Curufin stiffened, but bit back further protest. He was not afraid of someone catching them in the act. Well, he was, but one could hardly blame them for being carried away by a night of passion and drinking. What he was truly afraid of, however, was the hideous truth that laid below his silken robes and gloves.

Black robes slid off his shoulders, but the skin beneath was not smooth and perfect as it had been all his life. The shocked silence from his cousin answered all of his fears.

“Curufinwë,” Finrod started, struggling to tear his eyes away from his cousin’s now naked body. He so wanted to touch the scars, kiss them, tell them that no marring of his body will ever change the love he held for him, but Curufin had always been the finicky sort. Sometimes, he did not know if there was even a correct response. “Curvo… what happened…?”

Did he even want to explain? A shaky breath took hold of Curufin, and he stared down at his arms and chest, and the scar tissue that pulled at and contorted his skin. Even now he could still remember the pain, the smell of burning flesh, the zeal in Fëanor’s voice as he urged them to avenge him, and as he cursed Morgoth with his dying breath. He took a deep breath, and affirmed the tale that most took as legend. He spoke of the ship burnings, how Amrod had nearly died, how Fëanor could hardly accept resting a night before launching his assault upon the gates of Thangorodrim. Then, Fëanor charged forward by his lonesome, and from behind, his sons could see naught but whirling columns of flame.

“We brought him to the slopes of Ered Wethrin so that he may look upon foul Thangorodrim one last time. I wished to hold him, for he was dying, and…” he held out his arms with sorrow. “His flames are now part of me, and we are together forever.”

Unease gripped Finrod’s heart as a serpent coiled around its prey, strangling it slowly before devouring it whole. For all the years he had known Curufin, never had he done something so drastic in the name of his father. Curufin avoided pain where he could, and he still remembered distinctly his alarmed cries when, as a boy, a wound had turned to a scar on his body, as well as his frantic attempts to remove it. Now, standing in front of him was an elf who would let the flames of Fëanor consume him whole— as if he was not really looking at Curufin at all, but an apparition of his father.

“I understand if you find me undesireable,” Curufin muttered, “horrific, even, like some beast created fresh from the Black Foe’s mind.”

He would’ve continued, but was stopped short by Finrod’s lips upon his own, his wrists raised to his side and held against the wall. He could hardly comprehend his cousin’s love for him now, much less believe it in earnest, if not for each kiss after the other that was pressed against him, from his cheeks down to his neck, trailing down his scarred chest to his arms, and a final one on the palms of his hands.

Finrod’s breath was hot against his skin. “I’ve loved you, Curvo,” he said dreamily, letting go of the other’s wrist so that he may brush a thumb against his cheek. “I always have, and I always will, and no scar of yours will ever change this. I love you.”

“Ingo…” he willed his voice to remain steady, yet even with all of his efforts, he still could not drive away a faint waiver in his tone, nor could he stop his tears from falling. “Ingo- Findaráto. I love you too.”

There, against the walls of Nargothrond, he took him, a union in both mind and body. There could be no doubt that somebody saw- the rumors came far swifter than either could prepare for, yet each time he was asked, Curufin merely responded with an uncouth smirk. He did not care about their gossips, nor how they sneered at his love for his own cousin. He only wanted this, wanted Finrod, to stay forever, and he promised to himself that he would do whatever in his power to achieve it.

***

“What do you mean, ‘I will not come with you’?! I am your father, you wretch! You are my creation, you are of my flesh, and you will follow my command!”

Curufin’s screams of fury rang clear as a bell tower across Nargothrond’s town hall, and while he was typically a person who carefully groomed his self-image, their ejection from his cousin’s kingdom meant he no longer had any use for upholding his reputation. They saw him as a usurper, and try as he might, the people had already poisoned themselves with this perception of him and his brother.

He had hoped that Celebrimbor had not fallen for their lies as well.

Celebrimbor stood in front of a gathering crowd, his silver circlet almost reminiscent of a crown, sword sheathed by his side, his armor gleaming under the torchlight. Did he think himself some champion of the common folk? “No more of this, Father.” His brows furrowed as he spoke, the same way that Fëanor’s would when he was set on a path, whether that path led him to good or evil. “I will no longer let myself be a part of your atrocities, even if I cannot sway you from your Oath.”

“And that oath should’ve been your oath too, had you not been too much of a coward to swear it.” Curufin hissed, letting his words contort into the shape of a terrible beast, its fangs dripping with venom. “You come from the line of Fëanáro, or have you forgotten that too, whilst you mingled with the craven kind that is Findaráto’s people? Has their treachery taken hold of you as well?”

“You speak of treachery, yet who was the one that wove terror into the people’s hearts with words that reeked of the poisons of Morgoth? Was it not you, Father, who whispered of fallen kingdoms, of the Black Foe’s wrath?” Even as his son spoke against him, Curufin could not help but feel a misplaced sense of pride. His son had come so far, from a miserable whelp to a true elf lord.

Yet, as swift as the pride swelled into existence, it twisted into a terrible wrath that only further stoked his fire. For who was the one that raised him? Who brought him to Beleriand, away from the Valar who could not even Aman from one of their own? Was it not him who taught him the art of the forge, the art of words, how to lead and inspire? “You forget your place, Tyelpërinquar. You would be *dead* without my guidance.”

“Your guidance led me into a kinslaying, Father. I will argue with you no longer— I have made my choice, and if you still hold any love for me in your heart, you will accept my choice.”

Pain gripped his heart, and Curufin could not tell whether it was from rage or from regret. He lunged forth, stopping just short from where his son- where what was once his son stood. “Fine, you ungrateful wretch.” A hand shot forth through the air, grabbing the eight starred brooch that was pinned onto Celebrimbor’s blue cape. With a violent yank, Curufin pulled it from the cape with an all too satisfying ripping sound. “Then you will be my son no longer, and you shall know no love from me, nor from the House of Fëanáro.”

Celebrimbor did not respond.

“You will come to regret this, Tyelpërinquar.” From where Celebrimbor stoof, Curufin seemed no longer like his father— darkness clouded his eyes, and malice poured forth like a tidal wave from his words. For a moment, he felt no different from an agent of the Enemy. Was this truly the man who had raised him? Was this what he had called father?

Curufin snarled as he mounted his horse. “Mark my words.”

***

If Celegorm found it difficult to pretend that he did not care, then Curufin, he realized, found it utterly impossible. Celebrimbor’s abandonment of him weighed hard on all the brothers, him included. He still had fond memories of play-fighting with his nephew using sticks, teaching him to fish, watching him grow from Curufin’s little prized jewel to an elf prince worthy of a throne like any other. But Celebrimbor was not his son.

His brother hid it well, at first. Any mention of Celebrimbor was simply brushed off, and aside from a family brooch they had no use for, it was as if his son was simply erased from his mind, like he never existed in the first place. Then, the mere mention of his name would set him off. The spare brooch disappeared. Eventually, Curufin began to unravel.

It began as any other day for Celegorm: he checked their food supplies, and was dismayed to find it lower than he had hoped. Though the great forests of Ossiriand proved plentiful in game, he still was unused to hunting without Huan, even if he loathed him for his betrayal in a time of need. Even so, hunting still brought him content and a brief respite from their pitiful situation, so he took it upon himself to restock, and pondered if he should bring along the twins.

His ears twitched at a foreign noise. It was not an animal cry, nor did it come from the direction of the wilds, but that of one of his brother’s tents. Celegorm stood, setting his bow aside, following the noise until he stopped before the tent of Curufin.

No doubt his brother had finally realized the futility of trying to ignore the pain of his loss, but Curufin was never pretty when grieving. The events with their father were still fresh on his mind after so many years; one does not simply get used to the screams in the night and the phantom-like wailing. As much as he did not want to subject himself to another shouting match because he could not figure out exactly how the other wanted to be comforted this time, he still pushed aside the flap of the tent, and stepped inside.

A sob came from the far end of the tent, and Celegorm’s gaze followed the sound until it finally landed on his brother, curled atop a crude bed that was nothing more than large animal pelts atop sheets made of leaves. “Curvo?” He approached the other slowly, with the same caution that he would use when approaching some small, flighty game.

Curufin turned on the bed to meet his gaze, and only then did Celegorm see just how small his brother seemed now, compared to his normal self that stood tall and proud and spoke with the utmost confidence. Even when Curufin was lying through his teeth, and when Celegorm knew he was lying through his teeth, there was always a small part of him that believed his brother’s words. If he said they could defeat Morgoth with only the swords by their sides, then oh, did a part of him think they truly could. They were invincible once.

“Tyelko,” he sat up, rising to his feet, stumbling forth and pulling Celegorm into a loose hug. More sobs spilled forth from him, “Tyelko…”

Celegorm did not know what to say. While he could sway crowds to his will with frightening skill, and his skill with words even rivaled that of his late father’s, he had always found himself at a loss when the words that he needed to say were comforting. Whereas speaking to a crowd was little more than a comfortable stroll along a clearly lit street for him, trying to quell the sobs of his little brother was more like stumbling through a darkness that swallowed him whole. He pulled Curufin close, a hand brushing through his dark curls.

“He’s… gone… he’s gone.” Curufin’s distraught voice only confirmed his suspicions: the loss of Celebrimbor had finally pierced through his defenses, and he was breaking into ten thousand pieces, pieces Curufin did not even bother with picking up. “Tyelkormo, I’m- I’m never going to see him again.”

“You don’t know that,” Celegorm tried, though they both knew it was a lie. The best case scenario, at least in his mind, was for them to never cross paths with Celebrimbor again— because that meant Nargothrond still stood, and as long as Nargothrond stood, Celebrimbor was safe.

As it often went with Curufin, the reassurance only made him feel worse. “Don’t lie to me,” even if he somehow did cross paths with Celebrimbor again, Curufin found the concept all too daunting. Would Celebrimbor even want to see him again, when he was now nothing but a disgraced shell of his former self, when he had fallen so far beyond irredeemable that even his son, who stood with him through kinslayings and burns, ambushes and assaults, would abandon him?

Celegorm sighed in defeat. There really was nothing else he could say, was there? Nothing that would change the fact that his nephew, Curufin’s son, was likely gone forever, nothing to change the fact they are now nothing more than dispossessed wanderers roaming the forest without aim.

“I’m going hunting,” he said, at last, if only to break the uncomfortable silence that had formed. “Our foodstuffs are getting low.”

“Wait- let… let me come. Please.”

He looks his brother over. Especially now that they no longer lived in the comforts of a kingdom, coddled by servants and their status alike, Curufin looked entirely unsuited for the rigors of the hunt. He was visibly paler compared to when they still dwelled in Nargothrond, and his skin clung tightly to his bones, like he had not eaten for the past week. Knowing his brother, it may not be entirely far from the truth.

Pity filled Celegorm’s heart. “Curvo… you need to stay. You look terrible.”

Their exile had not been kind to anyone. Celegorm himself suspected he had lost some of his muscle mass since the failed union, primarily due to their lacking food supplies, and an air of despondence followed them wherever they camped. “I’ll be back soon, alright? Please, eat something.”

He tried to turn and leave the tent for his horse, but Curufin’s grip around his waist only tightened, his face sinking deeper into his chest as he began to sob again. “No! No, don’t you go anywhere- anywhere without me, do you understand?! You’re… you’re the only one I have left, Tyelko- don’t leave me.”

“I won’t, alright? I’ll come…” he paused in the middle of his sentence. ‘Home’ didn’t seem like the right word to describe their shabby encampment. Home was something that ceased to exist long ago. “I’ll come back in no time.”

“Swear to me. Swear to me you’ll never leave me.”

“I swear, Curvo.”

At last, Curufin (though reluctant as he is) released his brother, his gaze casted towards the ground where a rug should be, but a deer hide stood in its stead. “…I’m coming with you anyway. You need someone to stop you from getting distracted.”

Celegorm sighed, though he could not help but let a thin smile show through. “By Oromë’s will… fine, since you clearly trust me that much.”

—

Blood stung Curufin’s nose for a second time. It was not the foul smelling black of Orcs, but the ruby red of Elven blood, metallic in scent as it gushed forth from his chest.

Across from him laid Celegorm, slain by the miserable child that was now the king of Doriath— was, until he too fell from a final thrust of Tyelkormo’s blade.

He promised he would protect his son, yet Celebrimbor would not even utter his name.

He promised Father he would recover the Silmarils, but he had utterly failed, when it was so clear in his sight.

He promised Findaráto his heart, yet sent him away to his death.

With what strength left in his arms, he pulled his brother’s corpse close to him. Celegorm promised to not leave, and here he was, dead.

And Curufin felt so terribly alone.

#the silmarillion #silmarillion #curufin #celebrimbor #celegorm #finrod #silm fic #curufinrod #tyelpe #tyelkormo #atarinke #finrod felagund #writing #c+c week 2024 #hi it’s the fic i spent like a month on yay #‘wow it took you almost a month to write 5k words?’ yeah i know #also listen i know this heavily features curufin and tyelpe instead of curufin and celery but #it’s mainly about curufin and his promises. ok. so i’m counting it

[robinette-green]

Late Night Day Dreams Chapter 8: Angel <- Human Version

My Fallen Angel

(Automaton Moon Version)

_\|/_/|\_\|/_

Moonlight trickled through the leaves, illuminating the dark forest path. In the distance, you could see glimpses of glittering lights shining bright and playfully through the trees. The sounds of chattering people were slowly growing in volume as I walked down the dirt path, pebbles crunching underfoot as I neared the circus.

Normally, I avoided this kind of thing, the sounds and smells bringing up memories of the past, but this show was one I wouldn't miss for the world.

The smells of popcorn and cotton candy filled my nose as I paid the little automaton running the stand at the gate for my ticket and joined the bustling crowd, making their way towards large red and white striped tent.

The performers were a mix of humans and automatons, a healthy mix of life the likes of which you couldn’t find anywhere else.

Acrobats were riding towering unicycles through the people, clowns were doing tricks and telling jokes, the strong man was lifting a woman seated in a chair above his head, and the animal tamer was letting patrons pet one of the decorated horses.

A few cages with show animals had been placed at the edge of the clearing. Gentlemen in their top hats and ladies in their bustled skits were peering in at the robotic lions and tigers, marveling at the deadly mechanical beasts that would soon be performing.

Everything was set in place to excite the crowd for the show they were about to see, but I wasn't interested in any of them.

Letting the bustling crowd push me along, I entered the colorful tent.

Sparkling lights cross-crossed high above us, seemingly draped on every surface, illuminating the three rings on the floor in the middle of the tent and the platforms near the top of the tent polls. In this space, the crowd spoke in hushed voices, in awe of the grandeur, excited for the show about to begin.

I sat on one of the many wooden benches, choosing one near the back of the tent, higher than the rest of the crowd. From here, I would have the best view of the acrobats when they started their performance. I wanted to be able to see them clearly.

He would be performing.

The lights dimmed, becoming small spots of color in the dark, and the crowd quieted, whispering to one another gleefully as the show began.

A spotlight flashed on, revealing the ringmaster. Towering top hat perched atop his head, dressed in a brightly colored tailcoat, he spread his arms wide, welcoming all to the circus!

As each act entered a ring, he would loudly announce them, voice ringing through the tent over the oohs and ahhs of the crowd.

Horses pranced around the rings' outer edges, and clockwork women in sparkling outfits stood on their backs, doing tricks.

Mechanical lions and tigers stood on hind legs and roared, breathing fire for the crowd, causing some guests to scream in fear and delight.

A knife thrower expertly threw knives at a spinning board, missing the woman who had been chained to its surface by inches.

The automaton magician escaped from a locked safe at the bottom of a glass tank filled with water.

Strong men, clowns, a bearded lady, a snake man, and so much more to delight and astound.

I sat patiently through all of it, only half-heartedly paying attention.

When the spotlight focused on the platform high above the crowd, I moved to the edge of my seat, leaning forward to try and get a better look.

There he was, Moon. It'd been years since I'd last seen him. He stood on that little platform, dressed in a midnight blue costume covered in glitter, a grin on his face, arms outstretched as he beamed at the crowd below him.

He looked the same as he always had, an automaton with a round head and long thin limbs. A loving hand had crafted him with care.

Made from blue and white metals, he stood 7 feet tall, towering over almost any human. A crescent moon adorned half his face while the other half was left in a deep blue shadow.

Moon and his partners, both humans and automatons swung through the air, soaring with ease and grace above the ground. One would leap, and another would catch them before flinging the first back across the tent to be caught once more. It was mesmerizing to watch.

I was glad that he could still perform, and clearly still loved performing even without me up there with him.

Flying through the air, getting ready for another leap, Moon caught sight of me. Our eyes met, and the smile fell from his face, his glowing eyes able to see me even from this distance.

He flew through the air, reaching out to grab the hands of the person on the other side, but his fingers slipped. Had the person on the other areal swing not caught him, he would have plummeted to the ground.

No one in the crowd seemed to notice the near tragedy they had just witnessed.

The act ended without further incident.

I'd seen what I'd come to see.

And he'd seen me.

I got up and inched through the seats, making my way to the exit even as the rest of the show continued. The last thing I wanted was for Lucien to find me, and I knew he'd come looking. I'd only wanted to get a glimpse of his face.

Through the heavy tent flap and out into the grounds, I paused, taking a deep breath, letting the cool night air fill my lungs.

Maybe I shouldn't have come.

"Angel!"

I flinched, then turned.

Still in full costume but disheveled, Moon was trotting towards me, his blue eyes glowing in the dark.

Angel. That took me back.

Moon had always said that seeing me flying through that air as we performed was like seeing an angel soaring through the tent, glowing in the lights.

Back then, he'd sometimes whisper the nickname into my ear when he wanted to convince me to do something for him. The steam from his body hot against my neck, hands loosely on my waist, a roguish smile playing on his lips-

Shaking my head, I brought myself back to reality and turned away. I shouldn't have come.

"Wait! Please-"Moon grabbed my hand, reaching me before I could escape.

"Please, spare me a moment. I… I missed you. Why did you leave?"

I couldn't meet his eyes.

"I couldn't perform anymore. What was the use in staying?"

I'd been dropped.

Performing with one of the new additions to the aerial team, they'd let me go too soon, and I'd been sent flying into the tent wall. Luckily, I only suffered a few broken bones, but my injuries were severe enough that I could never perform in the air again.

"You could have stayed and helped with the animals, or the magician could have taken you as an assistant. You didn't have to leave."

Maybe I could have stayed, but not when I knew that being grounded meant I'd lost any chance of winning Moon's affections. He was charming and funny; everyone had their eyes on him. On the ground, out of his sight, he'd never choose me over someone else. Not when I couldn't be his angel. I'd left before my heart was inevitably broken.

I couldn't bring myself to look at him, my chest tight as he squeezed my hand.

I shouldn't have come.

"You could have stayed for me."

Those words made me look up, my eyes finally meeting his.

"I thought I was making it obvious how I felt about you, but… maybe I should have been more direct." He said softly, with a sheepish smile and a pleading look in his eyes.

A blush rushed to my cheeks, face suddenly hot as his words settled in my mind.

Slowly, he pulled me closer. His other arm wrapped around my waist as I was pulled against his firm chest.

The colors from the string lights were sparkling in the air around us as we stood in the deserted circus grounds. From where we were, we could hear the muffled voice of the ringmaster inside the tent, followed by cheers and laughter from the crowd.

"I fell in love with you the first time I ever saw you laugh, dearest. I've loved you all this time, and I should have told you a long time ago. Even if you can't fly, love, you will always be my angel."

My heart was in my throat, making it hard to breathe, my face on fire as I heard the words I'd longed to hear.

He loved me. It didn't matter that I was broken, that my wings had been clipped, and that I was forced to stay on the ground instead of flying through the sky where I belonged. He still loved me.

"Won't you come back to me?" He murmured, ducking his head to bring our faces closer, his lips so close to mine.

"Yes." I breathed, and he closed the distance, pressing his lips to mine.



#glitter rock #glitter rock writing #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf moon #dca fandom #moon x reader #dca fanfic

[cummin-n-cryin]

May I request poly vil and idia with a gender neutral reader, with maybe either body disphoria, or just in general feeling not good enough?

It can be sfw or not, whichever you feel more up to!

~Thank you for your request!

You're Good Enough

Vil + Idia x gn!reader (polyamory)

Tw: lil bit of angst

Wordcount: 900

Side Note: oooh been a while since I've gotten an angsty request! I'm leaning more towards just in general not feeling good enough as body dysphoria can get a bit complicated. Being in a poly relationship with Vil and Idia is an interesting combination! Sry if the beginning seems a bit rushed but I hope this is okay!

Idia is the first to find you. Stumbling upon your hunched over form sitting on a bench in the courtyard. He grew worried seeing your downcast expression. So, awkwardly shuffling back and forth, he invites you to come to his bedroom to play video games with him. Maybe playing for a bit will help distract your mind from whatever is bothering you?

You agree to his offer and take his hand as you both walk to the Ignihyde dorm together. Once you reach his bedroom, he offers you snacks as he sets up everything.

Ortho eventually walks in. He's excited to see you here. Though, when Idia whispers to Ortho about how you seem to be feeling down, Ortho makes it his mission to try and at least make you laugh a little bit.

Trying his best to cheer you up, he tells you of cool or funny things that he saw the other students doing. He also tries showing you videos of animals doing silly things. People like to watch cute animals when they're feeling sad, right?

However, Ortho doesn't stay too long, as much as he'd like to hang out with you and his older brother, he has a whole dorm to patrol! So with a quick goodbye, Ortho leaves to go back on his walk.

You and Idia go back to playing games, though he can't help but be curious as to what made you feel upset. So, he asks. Albeit he's very awkward about it, looking off to the side. For a minute you're quiet, before telling him that you just don't feel like you're good enough.

Idia doesn't respond immediately, instead he pulls you into a hug. He takes a moment before whispering, "You're way more than good enough, you're amazing. I should be the one feeling like I'm not good enough." He lets out a small, almost sad laugh as he pulls away from you.

He then continues, "Seriously though, you really are amazing and I couldn't have wished for a better person to be my love interest. I'm sure Vil would agree with me too." He then quickly looks away, "Sorry if that was weird or something. I'm pretty bad at these kinds of things..." He rubs the back of his neck as he clears his throat.

The moment is then interrupted by Ortho bursting through the door. Idia lets out a high pitched scream before trying to cover it up with a cough. It seems Ortho is not alone however, as none other than Vil walks inside the bedroom just behind Ortho.

"I've been looking for you." Vil says, giving you a pointed look. "I texted you multiple times and yet I've received no answer. What's going on?" Vil places his hands on his hips as he looks down at both you and Idia.

"I was playing games with Idia. I must have gotten distracted." You awkwardly laugh. Idia then speaks after you, "They were feeling down so I invited them to come game with me for a bit."

Vil sighs, "Y/n, can you walk with me?" You nod. As you get up you give Idia a kiss on the cheek. Idia quickly looks away with a blush, his hair tinted pink to match. Vil smirks at the sight. You then proceed to follow Vil out of the bedroom, waving goodbye to Idia and Ortho as you do so.

As you two leave the Ignihyde dorm, Vil is quiet for a while. It isn't until you've fully left the dorm that he speaks, "I hope you don't mind me asking but, what had upset you?" Vil quickly adds, "Don't feel pressured to tell me if you don't want to. You shouldn't feel forced to answer."

You look at the ground for a moment, taking a breath you then tell Vil that you just feel like you're not good enough.

Vil's expression turns stern, "Did someone do something to make you feel like this? If someone has then I'll be sure to talk to them." You quickly shake your head, "No, it's just personal stuff I guess..." You mumble as you kick at the ground a bit.

Vil reaches over and lightly grasps your chin, moving your head to look at him. "Y/n. You are good enough and you will always be good enough. And as long as we're together, I'll make sure to remind you of that. It also seems you need to be taught how to respect yourself more. I won't stand here and let you treat yourself so terribly. Both you and I know you deserve more than that."

Vil releases your face and puts his hand on his hip. "But, that can wait. For now, let's get you back to your dorm. It's getting late." Grasping your hand within his, he walks you back to your room.

Arriving at your bedroom, Vil waits at the door as you walk inside. "Goodnight Y/n, we can discuss this more tomorrow. If you'd like to, of course."

However, before Vil leaves he then says, "Oh, do try to not tell Rook of this, unless you want him to sing you poems of your beauty outside your window at the dead of night. I warn you because I won't be there to help you." Vil gives a small laugh and with a final goodnight, closes the door.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #tw angst

[sashi-ya]

月が綺麗ですね > 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚒𝚝?

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ᴅᴀʏ ғᴏᴜʀ > ᴢᴀʀᴀᴋɪ ᴋᴇɴᴘᴀᴄʜɪ x ɢɴ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

♡ request: @deerspringdreams asked: Hello!! I hope you had a beautiful new year celebration! I'm so excited for this event! I would like to request a Kenpachi x nb reader (you know who xP) for the "The moon looks beautiful tonight", pretty please ♡ tw: +18. not super explicit. implied shower sex. reader totally gn, no pronouns nor body descriptions٠ wc: 1k ٠♡ masterlist ٠ taglist: @zella07 @jin-supremacy01 @stygianoir @alexkanroji

“Come on! You can do it, (Name)!” he screams while his hands slowly let go of your waist. You are hanging from the bars and your muscles begin to feel the weight of your own body.

He scoffs, his long black hair tied in a knot has always been your weakness. “See? I told you you could do it. Come on, hang in there for more than 2 seconds and I will reward you”.

You shiver,  is not the pain in your arms’ joints what makes it happen… Is Zaraki telling you he is gonna give you a reward. Your coach, who you are absolutely sure is half animal and zero percent interested in dating, makes your heart beat faster every time he is close to you.

And you hang in there. One, two, even five seconds more. You are strong, you have been training. Drops of sweat travel from your forehead into your temple, you bite your lips just to show him you have become as strong as he wants you to be.

The man in front of you, wearing his sweat drenched white tank top, crosses his well built arms over his chest. Kenny smirks and looks at you ferally proud. His prominent fangs that have always remembered you of his untamed nature, shine with his smile. He enjoys watching you sweat, breaking your own limits… and how much you wish he were to break them too, with you…

Your chest goes up and down, your nails carve on your palms as it turns almost impossible to keep your tight grip around the bar; you are too tired. And when you finally give up, he is right there to catch you. Is not that you were for more than a few meters from the ground, but, falling on his embrace is all you could ever ask for.

“Got ya!” he chimes, allowing you -knowing it well- to enjoy the scent of his skin. You nuzzle on the crook of his neck, his strong arms around you makes you feel tiny compared to him. You are strong, yes. But he is way more than you. (Or anyone else)

Sure, for you it was a big deal to be on his arms. But not for the rest of the people in the gym; Kenny’s and yours chemistry is so high, that everybody could said you were already a couple by the time you had your first session as personal trainer/client.

“You were the extra mile, and as I promised I will reward you. Wanna go somewhere now that we’re done?” he asks, so worriless.

You blink twice, still on the arms of your lo- personal trainer. He smirks and puts you down on the floor, shaking your whole body as he does.

“Y-yes, sure. I need to take a shower; can you wait for me, Kenny?”  you say.

“I will accompany you, then” he answers.

You choke as you drink from your water bottle, widening your eyes. “He wants to bathe with me?”

Your expression must have been very obvious as even Kenny could read your mind, and, laughing he walks away towards the showers. “Not together, but pretty close…”

You stand there, with sore muscles and the idea that breathing is optional. You can’t move for a good couple of minutes. He recognizes your existence as more than a human willing to become stronger, he is indeed -in his own ways, that you thought were null- flirting with you.

The towel that lies on one of the bench is his, and you grab it. Using it around your neck feels refreshing, a feeling of property that both excites you and makes you feel like a teenager in love. And with it, you get into the locker rooms to then visit the showers.

As soon as you get into the bathroom, the steam surrounding the ambience engulfs you. It’s easy to know where he is. He is way taller that the stall, and you could see his profile under the warm rain of the shower. With his eyes closed, and his long hair back, he relaxes peacefully.

You pass by, trying not to be noticed, but as he could sense your soul he does. He looks slightly to the side, opening just one eye to look at your tower only covered body. You froze, immobile. And he laughs.

“Wanna join?”  he… jokes. “Uh- ah-“ you stutter.

The stall opens with a hard swing. His whole anatomy showing before you. Manhood exposure, total embodiment of the testosterone running through his veins. You gawk, looking up and down at him. There is no way this is actually happening.

Kenny snatches you from your wrist, pulling you inside and closing the door of the shower. You, who were still trying to clench the towel, lost the war against gravity, leaving you completely naked under the water.

Your back gets pressed against the wet tiles of such a little cubicle. The drops of water that fall from the tip of his nose kiss your lips, as his back stops the shower from falling on you. He is close, Kenny is so close to you. Your naked bodies are.

The buzzy light of the ceiling competes for which sound is persistent against you two. The repetitive music of the defective, old, bulb or your accelerated breathing. It is undeniable, your bodies want the other. Now. In the gym showers or anywhere else, really.

“Ke-Kenny?” you ask, stuttering and melting yourself with the wall on your back. “Mh…?” he grunts, making your toes to curl. You take your eyes to the way he is holding your arm over your head, totally topping you simply with his presence and his body a few inches from yours. “Is- is this- allowed?” you try to dilate a situation, you actually really want.

He scoffs, so sexily and low, low. Kenny comes closer to your lips. “Well… if you are able to keep it low… yes. Look up there, there is a little window so they might heard us…” he whispers before kissing you with violence and strong impetus.

Before you could close your eyes and totally surrender to his body on yours, both take a quick look through the little window.

“The moon looks beautiful tonight, doesn’t it?” “It totally does… let me take you there, then”

© sashi-ya '23

#kenpachi #zaraki kenpachi #kenpachi x reader #zaraki kenpachi x reader #bleach #bleach x reader #bleach anime #bleach imagines #bleach fanfiction #bleach fanfic #bleach fanart #wano kuni

[kelin-is-writing]

ok so uhm i might've submitted the first ask sonner than i wanted to xD i accidentally used a shortcut to submit it. i had no idea this was a thing lol (i think it was ctrl + enter) aaand then i misclicked and unfollowed you so i followed again and ye... it's one of those days today 💀

anyway - more dabi thoughts :')

imagine the sheer amount of rage that overcomes dabi when you get catcalled in public. you were supposed to meet up at some place and he was waiting for you since he arrived a little early. he could already see you walk down the street when suddenly a stranger whistled after you and said smt that clearly made you feel uncomfortable.

good luck trying to keep your man under control bc he's about to go feral.

- 🥛 (this feels so much better. the milk needs to be there.)

HEAR ME OUT— dabi would be so pisssed at witnessing someone catcalling you, basically treating you like an object or an animal.

you ain’t a dog, so why are these bastards whistling your way? ohh he’s so gonna burn them to fucking ashes, whom the fuck do they think are saying “let’s go have some fun” to? he will show them in person something fun.

while walking toward dabi, you see him raise from his spot on the bench he was sitting on and walk your way which makes you beam instantly, those three molluscs forgotten already as soon as you saw your pretty boy stomping heavily to you “hey baby! how–”, but then you noticed the grim expression on his face and when he reached you dabi walked past your silhouette, immediately you froze on place not understanding his behavior.

“i dare ya bastard to try whistle my girl’s way once more, i’ll burn those ugly lips of yours!”, at hearing his roar you gasp loudly before turning and rushing to him, arms closed around your boyfriend’s waist in a useless try to stop him, who had his hand lifted mid-air with blue flames bursting from it, reminding the dark haired young man that he’s a wanted villain.

those three leave right away after recognising dabi and while that was a good thing, it wasn’t a relief because now the citizens around you were going to call the cops (or even worse, the heroes) on you two, which is why quickly you grab his hand and drag him along in your impromptu escapade, rushing as fast as possible somewhere you two won’t be find by whoever was probably were on your tracks.

getting into an empty alley of a secondary road that would easily get you away from danger, once made other few shortcuts and checking that no one was on sight, you finally slowed down until you didn’t came to an halt. dabi in silence behind your bended figure, watching as you try to catch your breath.

“everyone ‘s gonna be on your back now, dumbass!”, you scolded punching him on his stomach, making the boy spurt air, before glaring at him menacingly. dabi was about to talk back at you, about how it’s crazy how you’re screaming at him, when you kept talking “if you’re gonna burn those trashbags, at least do it when no one is looking.”, and that was your actual point for screaming at him, which made the villain snort amused at you, an hand lifted so his wrist could hide the little smirk curling up his lips.

he then turned to you with a tender smile on his lips, a lifted eyebrow as his right hand went to rest on top of your head gently, cerulean eyes looking down at you in that soft way he reserved to you and no one else.

“sorry i made you worry baby, next time i’ll make sure to burn them in a way that won’t put me in danger.”, with an expression that’s a mix of worry and weak menace because you’re pouting so cutely, you nod firmly at his words. his face suddenly went serious, eyebrows knitted together and the corners of his mouth downwards “it’s just... it pissed me off so much how they were objectifying you, that i didn’t really think about where i was...”, he explained frustrated, hand going now to the back of his head, still boiling with rage at the thought of those three vermins.

you stared at him in awe for a long while before wrapping your arms around dabi’s chest and snuggling against, feeling reassured right away the moment his scent surrounded you “i love you so much, best boyfriend in the world!”, at your full of energy response, the arsonist simply melted while groaning in conflict before closing his arms around your shoulders, chin resting on top of your head as he stared forward with pursed lips and cheeks tinted of red.

“what am i gonna do with you?”, he blurted out exasperated, because damn... wasn’t he one lucky man to have an amazing girlfriend such as you.

“uhm?”, you hummed looking up at him confused after not hearing well what he just said, his voice was too low.

“nothing. shall we go now?”, with that dabi just held your hand and walked slightly ahead of you, trying extremely hard to hide his flushed cheeks but failing miserably as you got a small glimpse of them as soon as you had lifted your eyes on him, a small giggle leaving your mouth as you jumped at his side all happy and giddy.

you call him cute, then he calls you out on it horrified by you saying something like that about a villain, which you argue that it’s nonsense and while bickering lovingly with each others you two finally start up your date.

#kelin responds #answered #🥛 #bnha fluff #mha fluff #dabi fluff #touya todoroki fluff #bnha x reader fluff #mha x reader fluff #dabi x reader fluff #touya todoroki x reader fluff #PLEASE HE'S THE TYPE OF BOYFRIEND WHO'S WHIPPED AS HELL FOR HIS GIRLFRIEND #and no i don't accept 'constructive criticism' or contrasting opinions on this one. you guys can keep 'em for yourselves 😋 #BECAUSE HE JUST IS. AND I DO NOT ACCEPT ANY OTHER OPINION THAN THIS ONE. #he literally fanboys so damn hard and would be in awe at everything his gf does please 😭💔 #i want to date dabi so fucking bad guys... even more than usual...

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Getting Off the Table

Warning: Hellcheer picnic table smut

18+ MINORS DNI

Chrissy Cunningham was a good girl. She went to church every Sunday, and she tried her hardest to believe, but how could she believe in a God that took away her brother? How could she believe in a God that gave her parents who blamed her for his death? It was an animal attack, and she was supposed to be watching him. She tried to save him but by the time she heard him scream, he was already gone. Her parents never quite looked at her the same way ever again. She swore her mother hated her.

Nothing was ever good enough for her mother, so Chrissy stopped trying to please her. When she told her mother that morning that she had dumped Jason, her mother screamed bloody murder and told her that she would never find anyone else to put up with her. Chrissy didn't say anything. She just walked out. Now, she needed to deal with these headaches. Drugs seemed like her best option, and who better to get them from than Eddie Munson? He wasn't at all what she thought he would be. When she looked into his eyes, she couldn't help the thought that crossed her mind. My God, he was pretty.

"You know, you're not what I thought you'd be like," Chrissy had admitted.

"What? Mean and scary? Yeah, well, I thought you'd be mean and scary too," Eddie said as he sat back down.

"Me?" Chrissy asked.

"Terrifying," Eddie agreed. "So, in other good news, flattery totally works with me. Twenty-five percent discount. Fifteen bucks. You're robbing me blind here."

She was going to ask if he had anything stronger, really she was, but her intrusive thoughts took over.

"Are you on the table?" Chrissy asked, a bit nervously.

"Pardon?" Eddie asked, his eyebrows raised.

"I heard there are other ways of relieving stress that don't involve drugs," Chrissy said as she rubbed circles into his hand. "So, is the offer of you relieving my stress personally on the table?"

"I-i mean, yeah, if you want, but you should know that I've never done. . .anything," Eddie blushed.

"You haven't even been kissed?" Chrissy asked, and he shook his head. "That's a shame. A pretty boy like you should be kissed."

"Me? Pretty?"

"Very."

Eddie blushed and hid behind his hair. Chrissy stood up, shook her hair out of its ponytail, and moved Eddie's stuff out of the way as she crawled across the picnic table. She placed her legs on either side of Eddie and cupped his face. She leaned toward him and kissed him. Eddie sighed against her lips and kissed her back almost immediately. She almost laughed at how eager he was. She felt his hands shake as he slipped them under the edge of her sweater. She broke the kiss and leaned her forehead against his.

"I'm nervous too," Chrissy said..

"You are?" Eddie asked.

"I've kissed before, but I've never had sex," Chrissy said.

"You and Carver never. . .?" Eddie asked.

"Nope, we were basically arranged to be married. Both he and my mother wanted me to remain pure for when we eventually did marry," Chrissy rolled her eyes. "Meanwhile, he was fucking a couple of my cheerleaders."

"That's. . .barbaric," Eddie said. "And are you sure you want to give it up to me?"

"Eddie?"

"Yeah?"

"Take off my panties."

"Right."

He hands slid under the skirt and tugged her underwear down. Chrissy grabbed his hand and guided towards her dripping cunt.

"See? I'm already so wet for you, Eddie," Chrissy said sweetly.

"Fucck!"

She pulled him up, her legs squeezing his waist, and began to undo his belt. Chrissy fumbled with it before getting it undone. She pushed his pants down, leaving him in his boxers, and pulled out his cock. She pushed him back down onto the bench and moved to straddle his waist.

"Wait. . . I don't have anything," Eddie said.

"It's okay, I'm on birth control," Chrissy said.

"Oh."

She spat into her hand and began stroking his already hardening length. Eddie groaned, and his eyes rolled back into his head. She guided it to her entrance and slowly sank down onto his dick. She wasn't sure he would fit at first, but she managed it. Chrissy began to move, rocking her hips slowly. Their moans echoed into the trees. It was soon getting very hot, their skin sticky with sweat. Eddie had to remove his shirt. Chrissy followed with her sweater and her top. She thought about leaving her bra on, but no, she wanted him to see them, to suck on them. She unhooked her bra and slid it off. Eddie cupped them, a thumb sweeping over her nipple and pinching it. Chrissy let out a stuttering moan. Eddie attached his lips to her neck as he caressed her breast while her fingers grazed the tattoos on his chest. Chrissy grinded down harder and faster, her hands moving to grip his back as she burrowed her face against his neck. Meanwhile, Eddie placed her hands on her hips and helped her move. He finally unloaded inside of her, and once he did that, she finally collapsed against him. He was still inside of her, but neither one of them wanted to move from the embrace.

"That was -

"So fucking awesome!" Eddie exclaimed and Chrissy giggled.

She leaned back and kissed him. She pushed herself off of his dick and sat back on top of the table. Eddie pulled out his bandana and got to work cleaning her up then himself. Eddie leaned over and kissed her.

"Fuck you're so beautiful," Eddie said breathlessly.

"Come here, there's something I wanted to do," Chrissy said, blushing as she leaned forward and placed gentle bites on his tattoos. "Sorry, was that weird?"

"Sometimes you just have to bite the things that you like," Eddie said.

He leaned down and placed equally gentle bites right in the top of her breast. He wrapped his tongue briefly around her nipple before pulling away. He pulled on his shirt and handed Chrissy her underwear. She slipped them on along with the rest of her clothing as Eddie pulled on his jacket and vest.

"I was wondering if we could do that again some time," Chrissy said, shyly biting her lip.

"Yeah, I love you! I mean, fuck, I would love too. Okay. That was weird, sorry," Eddie laughed, and Chrissy giggled. "Um, would you like to have dinner with me tonight? You could come over if you wanted to. I actually like to cook, you know."

"I would love to. Walk me to class?" Chrissy asked, and he nodded.

Chrissy grabbed his hand and put her scrunchie on his wrist before entertwining their fingers. Eddie gazed at her affectionately, his eyes twinkling. He had to look ahead a few minutes later when he ran into a tree, which caused Chrissy to laugh. Eddie wrapped an arm around her waist, tickling her mercilessly, and then pulled her to his side. As soon as they walked into school, everyone stared at them, which Chrissy thought was simply delightful. Jason stormed up to them.

"You dumped me for the freak!" Jason yelled.

"No, I dumped you because your personality was as big as your dick which according to half of the cheerleaders, is very hard to find," Chrissy replied, and Eddie nearly choked on his spit. "Eddie's, however, can be seen from space."

Jason was too angry to say anything else and walked away.

"Is it really big?" Eddie asked her.

"You almost didn't fit, honey," Chrissy said.

He hid his face in her neck, cheeks red. Chrissy chuckled.

"I really like you," Eddie said, his voice muffled against her neck.

"I really like you too," Chrissy said.

#stranger things #eddie munson #joseph quinn #stranger things s4 #eddie stranger things #eddie munson lives #chrissy cunningham #chrissy cunningham x eddie munson #chrissy this is for you #chrissy x eddie #hellcheer #hellcheer fanfiction #hellcheer smut

[possibly-in-wonderland]

Boromir and his chaotic hobbit wife

(and some incorrect quotes ft her in general, maybe one day she'll have a name...but for now we refer to her as hobbitess)

~~~~

Boromir: *wakes up to find flowers woven in his hair*

~~~~

Boromir: .. .----. -- / … --- .-. .-. -.-- (translation: I'M SORRY) Hobbitess: What's that? Boromir: Remorse code. Hobbitess: I'm even angrier now.

~~~~

Boromir: Fight me! Hobbitess, standing behind him and holding a knife: *mouths* Do not.

~~~~

Boromir: Everyone has a toxic trait. Except Hobbitess, they’re perfect. Hobbitess: Wrong! My toxic trait is how badly I want to domesticate a warg.

~~~~

Boromir: You have Crayons? Hobbitess: Yes, I have— Boromir: You're— how old are you? Hobbitess: YES I AM AN ADULT AND I HAVE CRAYONS, I HAVE A BOX OF EMERGENCY CRAYONS IN THE CABINET UNDER THE SINK BECAUSE EVERYBODY NEEDS CRAYONS SOMETIMES, OKAY? EVERYBODY NEEDS CRAYONS.

~~~~

Hobbitess: Hey, what’s the name of the guy who lives down the hall? Boromir: His cats' names are Walter and Rose. Hobbitess: That's not what I asked. Boromir: That is all the information I have.

~~~~

Boromir: Okay, I’m going to get the wedding cake. Hobbitess: Perfect, while you do that I’ll check on the ring bear. Boromir: ... Boromir: You mean ring bearER, right? Hobbitess: ... Boromir: Look me in the eyes and tell me you are not going to bring a dangerous wild animal to our wedding.

~~~~

Hobbitess: Oh, fiddlesticks! That really ruffles my feathers! Boromir: Please, just say fuck.

~~~~

Hobbitess: You know what? Let’s give it a go. What’s the worst that could happen? Boromir: Humiliation, embarrassment, fire, explosions, collisions, tears, nudity and death.

~~~~

Hobbitess: Here’s a fun Christmas idea. We hang mistletoe, but instead of kissing, you have to FIGHT whoever else is under it. Boromir: Hobbitess no. Gimli: Mistlefoe. Boromir: Please stop encouraging her.

~~~~

Aragorn: We need a distraction. Boromir: Is anyone here good at jumping up and down and making weird noises? Hobbitess, whispering: My time has come

~~~~

Hobbitess, Pippin, and Merry are sitting on a bench Gandalf: Why do you guys look so sad? Hobbitess: Sit down with us so we can tell you. *Gandalf sits down* Pippin: The bench is freshly painted.

~~~~

Gandalf: I currently have 7 empty notebooks and I have no clue what to put in them. Suggestions? Pippin: Put spaghetti in it. Gandalf: I'm currently taking suggestions from literally anyone but you. Merry: Put spaghetti in it. Gandalf: I'm currently taking suggestions from anyone but you two. Hobbitess: Put spaghetti in it. Gandalf: I'm no longer taking suggestions.

~~~~

Hobbitess: *Screams* Pippin: *Screams louder to establish dominance* Aragorn: Should we do something? Merry: No, I want to see who wins.

~~~~

Hobbitess: Sometimes I drink milk straight out of the container. Pippin: The cow??? Hobbitess: What? Merry: Pippin, W H Y?

~~~~

Hobbitess: Would you stab your best friend in the leg for 10 million gold? Pippin: You stab me, and then when my leg gets better, we buy a big-ass house. Merry: You can stab me too, then we'll have 20 million. Pippin: Good thinking.

~~~~

Hobbitess: So uhhh... my question is: my friend keeps on going into the pantry and grabbing handfuls of fettuccine... uncooked... Sam: I would hope they're not grabbing handfuls of cooked fettuccine! Frodo: In your pantry! Hobbitess: Yeah... and eating them raw, and they keep calling them 'chips'. ... How do I make them stop? Sam: Is your friend here? Hobbitess, motioning to Pippin: Yeah. Sam, to Pippin: You're a monster! Words MEAN things! >:( Merry: Does anybody remember- I haven't been to Olive Garden in many moons- but they DO have a like- fettuccine bottle that you can just- grab em out of and chew- Merry: HOLD ON. WAS THIS A PRANK YOU GUYS PULLED ON ME WHEN WE WENT TO OLIVE GARDEN AS KIDS?! Merry: NO, STOP. EVERYBODY SHUT UP. DO THEY GIVE YOU RAW FETTUCCINE TO CHEW ON IN THE LOBBY OF THE OLIVE GARDEN Everyone else: No. Merry, to Sam and Frodo: YOU FUCKIN BASTARDS Sam: YAAAAAAAAY! Frodo: THE PRESTIGE!

~~~~ Hobbitess: Why isn’t the statue smirking at me? Gandalf: It isn’t smirking at anyone, they’re all just imagining it. Hobbitess: Four of us saw it, Gandalf. How do you explain that? Gandalf: *points at Merry & Pippin* Sleep deprivation. *points at Sam* Paranoia. *points at Frodo* Delusional personality disorder.

~~~~

*The squad right before Hobbitess' & Boromir's wedding* Pippin: Well I have to go, I have a wedding to attend. Merry: Wait... Oh! I have a wedding to attend too! Sam: Oh, I have a wedding to attend as well Frodo: I THINK WE ALL HAVE WEDDINGS TO ATTEND Aragorn, panicked: I THINK I HAVE A WEDDING TO OFFICIATE

~~~~

Frodo, walking into his house: Hello, people who do not live here. Pippin: Hey. Merry: Hi. Sam: Hello. Hobbitess: Hey! Frodo: I gave you the key to my place for emergencies only! Hobbitess: We were out of seed cakes.

~~~~

Frodo: If you bite it and you die, it’s poisonous. If it bites you and you die, it’s venomous. Pippin: What if it bites me and it dies!? Merry: Then you’re poisonous. Jesus Christ, Pippin, learn to listen. Sam: What if it bites itself and I die? Hobbitess: That’s voodoo. Boromir: What if it bites me and someone else dies? Sam: That’s correlation, not causation. Pippin: What if we bite each other, and neither of us die? Hobbitess: That’s kinky. Frodo: Oh my God.

~~~~

Hobbitess: Time for plan G. Pippin: Don’t you mean plan B? Hobbitess: No, we tried plan B a long time ago. I had to skip over plan C due to technical difficulties. Merry: What about plan D? Hobbitess: Plan D was that desperate disguise attempt half an hour ago. Sam: What about plan E? Hobbitess: I’m hoping not to use it. Pippin dies in plan E. Gandalf: I like plan E.

~~~~

Boromir: HELP! I TOLD HOBBITESS I’D COOK DINNER TONIGHT BUT I CAN’T COOK! Aragorn, pouring milk directly into the cereal bag: And you thought I could help?

~~~~

Hobbitess: Boromir and I don’t use pet names. Aragorn: I see. Hey, what do bees make? Hobbitess: Honey? Boromir: Yes, dear? Hobbitess: Aragorn: Don't ever lie to my face again.

~~~~

Hobbitess: What time is it? Pippin: I don’t know; pass me that saxophone and we’ll find out Pippin: *Plays sax loudly and extremely out of tune* Gandalf: WHO THE FUCK IS PLAYING THE SAXOPHONE AT TWO IN THE MORNING Pippin: It’s 2 am

~~~~

Boromir: I really like this whole ‘good guy, bad guy’ thing you guys have going on. Hobbitess: It’s not an act, it’s just that I’m mean and Pippin isn’t

~~~~

Hobbitess: Dandelions symbolize everything I want to be in life Merry: Fluffy and dead with a gust of wind? Hobbitess: Unapologetic. Hard to kill. Feral, filled with sunlight, bright, beautiful in a way that the conventional and controlling hate but cannot ever fully destroy. Stubborn. Happy. Bastardous. Friends with bees. Highly disapproving of lawns. Full of wishes that will be carried far after I die. Pippin: edible

~~~~

Hobbitess: I've already sent good vibes your way… they’re coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop them. Boromir: This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.

~~~~

Hobbitess, pointing: May I sit there? Boromir: That's my lap Hobbitess: That doesn't answer my question, Boromir.

~~~~

Boromir: Three words. Say them and I'm yours. Hobbitess: Three words. Boromir:

~~~~

Boromir: Welcome, fellow idiots Hobbitess: Hello, Boromir Boromir: No, no, not you, you're not an idiot Hobbitess: You underestimate me

#lotr #boromir #the fellowship of the ring #merry brandybuck #pippin took #gandalf the grey #frodo baggins #samwise gamgee #original character #srsly what do we name her

[princessofdorkness]

This had vamp!eddie written all over it. Might do a part two if you peeps like it! Also it’s kinda proof read but if I missed anything let me know!

Warnings: slight suicidal ideations, angst, vampire!eddie, kas!eddie, mentions of blood but not a lot, (again, if I missed anything pls let me know!)

((Reposting this so it gets in the tags!))

It had been a month since the “earthquake” and you were forced to drag yourself to school for the first time since he left you. The school only allowed one month to “grieve” and then any other absences would be put on your record. One month. What a joke. They think one month would be enough and maybe it would’ve been if you hadn’t known the sad truth. The fact that Eddie sacrificed himself for a town that didn’t deserve him. And worst of all the fact that the love of your life was taken away before you two could graduate and get out of this shitty town.

But you couldn’t think about that right now. You had to go to first period and the last thing you wanted was for the stuck up assholes to see you break. No, that was for late at night when you couldn’t sleep, plagued by nightmares of that night. Usually you’re pretty good at hiding it during the day but by the time lunch rolled around you couldn’t help but miss the lunchtime rants he’d climb up on the table for and the way his head would tilt back as he laughed at something one of the party members had said. And before you can catch yourself you realize that your already crying and you feel your stomach turn so to avoid emptying your stomach in front of the whole cafeteria you raced outside.

Luckily, the fresh air quells your nausea and your feet take you to the one place they always did when you weren’t in the cafeteria for lunch. You approach the familiar picnic table, covered in leaves and sticks from not being used. You brush off the bench and sit down, sighing as you reminisce the times you had with him. Just as the tears began to flow again, a rustling sounded from somewhere in the woods. Your head whipped around as you grew quiet. Now, you usually wouldn’t be this paranoid. Before you’d blame it on an animal and go about your day but with the events of last month, you’d been on high alert.

Staring out into the woods you focus your hearing and keep your eyes peeled in case something’s out there. Right before you look away a tall shadowy figure runs behind some trees. Your breathing picks up as you stumble trying to get off the picnic table. On the way down you realize you scraped the outside of your leg on the wood. Before you have the chance to push yourself up and run you feel a hand close around your ankle. There’s a brief moment, before you look up at whatever’s got a hold of you, where you think about him. About seeing him again after whatever’s got you was done with you and you were finally at peace.

Only after seconds pass did you realize that nothing was happening. All you could hear was the ragged breathing of what sounded like a man. Slowly you opened your eyes to find the one thing in this world you had been missing. His eyes were the first thing you noticed. Bloodshot and pupils as crimson as the blood you feel trickling down your leg. It was Eddie alright, being so close and feeling his arm around your ankle letting you know that this was definitely not a dream. You don’t even have it in you to scream or struggle. You’re just happy to have him back in any way which you know is selfish but you could never help it when it came to him.

You feel his hand close tighter around your ankle, breaking yourself out of your trance as it borders on painful. You start to piece together the details of the man (creature?) in front of you. His eyes, almost glowing, mixed with the death grip he had on your leg, now beginning to take in the rest of him. You realize now that he seems to be having an internal battle with himself, one that almost looks painful, a sadness in his eyes to match your own. He stares down at your leg, confusion and sadness swirling around in the air mixed with something else…something deeper. It bubbles between the two of you, almost like it never stopped. You don’t dare break the silence, too paralyzed by the shock of just being near him again.

After what seems like an eternity you muster up the courage to speak,

“E-Eddie…?” You whisper quietly, sitting up a little to reach your hand down to where his is on your ankle. Before your able to reach out for him you see his head snap up from where he was staring down at your leg. Then as fast as he was here he shot up like the mere mention of his name pained him. You know he’s probably ten times stronger then you but watching him walk away again sounds like the worst hell you could ever imagine so you quickly reach out for his arm, a quick and desperate “No.” leaving your lips.

He turns to you a slight look of shock on his face, like he can’t believe anyone would touch him after what he’s become. This makes the tears you didn’t know we’re falling increase tenfold. You slightly pull him closer by his hand and he surprisingly lets you.

You let out a raged breath through your tears, "Either kill me or kiss me. Don't just let me go." You beg into the air, wondering if the words will get through to him.

They seem to as his brow creases in the middle, like he’s constraining really hard. Like he’s trying to dig deep to figure out why he didn’t just tear you to shreds. Why deep down he feels as though you’re supposed to be important to him, or at least the person he was before…everything.

He stares at your tear stained cheeks like you’re a puzzle to be solved. Even in his old life he can’t remember anyone ever crying for him. It’s strange remembering himself before everything. It’s like flashes that come in and out before the creature he’s become takes over again. He can feel it simmering below the surface but he’s too focused on not going completely berserk on you to really explore that.

You’re scared that at any second he could decide to bolt again so before you can think of the possible repercussions your lunging at him, your hands planted firmly on the solid ground as you push yourself up the few inches so your lips meet. His hand shoots out to hold the meat of your thigh like he was looking for something to anchor himself to this moment. Afraid that if he let go he’d do something terrible that he’d regret.

But then something unexpected happens as the kiss deepens. Those flashes he’s seen become more vivid than ever. Like a movie reel of his life’s most important moments. He grabs your face gently, wanting to chase these memories he thought would only ever be just fragments.

Strangely enough everything that flashes before his eyes includes you in them. He sees you sitting on a couch next to him with a group of people he can’t quite place just yet. You’re all watching a movie and he leans over to whisper something in your ear that he can’t quite remember but the quiet giggle you let out makes his chest warm and fuzzy.

The next memory is you two sitting in the back of a vaguely familiar van at dusk by a lake. You have your head on his shoulder, gazing up at the stars. He passes you the blunt you’ve both been sharing, “It’s beautiful isn’t it?” He turns to you as you look up at the stars.

“Sure is…” he agrees though you’re not sure if you both were talking about stars. The next memory seems more tense. They’re in a trailer all decked out in army gear. Even in a memory he can feel the tension in the room. While it’s just the two of them he can hear other voices just outside the room.

“If anything happens…” he hears himself say, “bail, you hear me?” He grabs your face just like he is now. “If I loose you…” he whispers, feeling tears run down his cheek, looking down at the floor in embarrassment.

“Hey,” you say, gently. He feels your hand lift his chin forcing him to look at you. When he does he’s taken aback by just how much love seems to be behind your eyes. He never thought someone like him would ever experience a love like this and the idea that it could all be ripped away scared the shit out of him.

“I love you…” he hears you say, like you’re in his brain or reading his mind. “Whatever happens…that will never change, ok?” Her voice quivers, and she’s nodding like she’s trying to convince herself just as much as him.

“I love you so much.” He says with more conviction then he thinks he’s ever had about anything. If this was the last time he got to hold you he needed you to know just how much you meant to him.

“Come back to me…” He hears her whisper but after a moment he’s not sure if it was the memory or not. Before he has too much time to explore the question he’s back in the woods, his lips a mere centimeter away from yours.

He takes in a raged breath as he opens his eyes. You gasp lightly, looking into his more muted eyes, still red, but not as vivid or bloodshot. Almost like muscle memory his thumb begins moving back and forth where it still lays on your leg. He searches your eyes, almost like he’s trying to decide if this is real or not. And then, through the sounds of the forest around them he says the one thing she never thought she’d hear him say again,

“…y/n?”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x plus size reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fan fic

[romancefranaticstay]

Cheaters get heated Part 5 Yoongi/Jungkook/Namjoon

Warnings: swearing, fighting, a tiny bit smut

Category: fluff, angst, smut

Everyone is following you towards a beautiful park. You have a perfect view of the city. Tae starts running towards the slide as a kid, while Jenna laughs because of his act. Lisa is socializing with little kids and their parents, while Jimin tries to get some drinks from the vending machine.

You and Namjoon are sitting on a bench. Its silent. Suddenly you get an energy kick.

‘You know what we should do? We should explore!’

He laughs.

‘You can explore, I will help Jimin with the stupid vending machine.’

‘Okay, I want Sprite by the way.’ and you kiss him on the cheek goodbye.

You start running towards a tree. And you start climbing, when your high in the tree you take some photos of the view with your phone. You climb down again and start exploring. There are many flowers around the tree, so many colors. You start walking towards a couple of trees, they are pretty far away. You observe them, they are so beautiful with their pink leaf’s.

‘Hey baby.’ you hear someone say behind your back. You turn around and see Yoongi.

‘Why are you here? No wait, why are you always following me?!’

He steps closer untill you feel your back hitting the tree.

‘Don’t come a step closer Yoongi, I swear to god.’

‘Baby’ he takes your hand ‘I am never gonna to let you go.’

‘You need to stop, you need to go.’

‘I’ll never go, baby.’ and he steps closer.

What should you do? Maybe kick him in the crotch? No. Slap him? No. Wait, scream, just scream. You aren’t far away from your friends. They’ll hear you. You scream as loud as you can, but really loud. So loud birds are actually flying away. Yoongi puts his hand over your mouth.

‘Shh baby.’ he strokes your arm. His grip in your hand is hard, and really painfull.

‘Baby, follow me.’ you don’t move. ‘Baby, you don’t want to make me mad.’ he says. You bit in the hand he covers your mouth with.

‘Stay away from me. You understand?!’ you yell. You step backwards away from the trees, but he suddenly starts running towards you. You just run, you don know where your running, but you are somewhere. You look back, but you don’t see him anywhere. You stop and rest, you look around but you don’t now where you are. Ur surrounded by beautiful trees, those pink leaf’s give you goosebumps. You are lost in a paradise, how is that even possible. It’s still day, and the trees don’t cover to much of the sky. You call Jenna a couple of times, but nothing. Than you try to call Lisa, but also nothing. You also try to call Jimin, but still nothing. You can’t call Namjoon, you don have his phone number yet. You really can panic right now, but you decide not to. Life is to short to be scared. You sit down and lay against one of the beautiful trees. You start to count the flowers, and the leaf’s. Then you decide to climb into the tree. When your the highest you look down at all the colors of the flowers. You try to look up all the trees, to maybe see some view of the park. You see really far, something yellow, it looks like the yellow slide. You don’t know for sure. Your to scared to go down. It’s getting dark, now your panicking. Would the others look for you? Maybe they are looking now. They can find you any moment, and then you will go home. Maybe you should try to sleep on the tree? But what if you fall down? You can die!

You hear something, it sounds like footsteps. There are 2 emotions playing: happiness and fear. Maybe it are your friends, but maybe it’s some wild animal.

‘Y/N, where are you?’ it’s Yoongi! You are really silent, you just hope he doesn’t look up. ‘Y/N I see you there.’ You freeze, you don’t know what to say, or what to do.

‘Stop Yoongi, your scaring me.’ his face go cold.

‘Don’t be scared.’

‘Jokes on you, I am. By the way, mine friends can come any minute.’

‘You think your friends will come? I am the only one who truely care’s about you.’

You feel sad when he says that. Maybe your friends aren’t looking for you, maybe they went home alreaddy.

‘Just come down, Y/N.’

‘No.’

‘Eventually you have to.’

‘I will just life in this tree then.’

‘You can’t life in a tree, Y/N. Don’t be ridiculous.’

‘That’s says the one who stalks.’

‘Come out of the tree,’

‘No.’

‘Just come down.’

‘No.’

‘Please Y/N, I promise, I won’t do anything.’

‘Like I trust you.’

You two are discussing for literal hours. But then you fall down, and you got knocked out because of the fall. You don’t know how long you slept, but when you woke up, you were in a big room. The bed you were laying on was gigantic. Everything was black, the curtains, the sheets, the walls, even the floor and also the carpet.

‘Goodmorning, baby.’

Oh no, oh no. OH NO! You were in Yoongi’s bedroom, you were in Yoongi’s bedroom. In Yoongi’s, not in Namjoon’s but Yoongi’s.

‘I need to get out of here.’ you looked down under the cozy blanket, and you had still your clothes on from yesterday.

‘No that fast,’ Yoongi says ‘where you think your going?’

‘Going home? I am not staying here.’

When you get up, you walk towards the door but you feel his hands on your waist.

He whispers in your ear:’You have to, baby?’

His voice felt so warm. No, you can’t. What he did to you was just, horrible.

‘Let go off me.’

‘I can’t.’

You walk towards his door to get out. His hands stays on your waist, while he is following.

‘Goodbye Yoongi.’

‘This goodbye is never forever, honey.’

He kisses your forehead and you leave. Deep inside you still love him, but you can’t. You can’t love someone who hurted you this badly. You look on your phone, 99+ notifications.

You open your messages. The groupchat got wild. You see they added Namjoon and Tae.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

‘Where are you?’ -Lisa

‘Is everything okay?’ -Namjoon

‘Gurl, you lost?’ -Jimin

‘Y/N, where are you?!’ -Jenna

‘Y/N, you need help?’ -Taehyung

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

49 missed calls.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You just text: I was lost in the woods, I am okay. Don’t worry guys. 💋💋💋

You send the message, and went off to work. Your still thinking about Yoongi.

You went back to your house. You went straight to your bedroom, and laid on the bed. Should you call him? Should you call Yoongi? Just this one last time? Your horny because of the thoughts of you and Yoongi. You want him here. You get up and went back to his appartement and knocked on the door. When he opens the door you kiss him. You put your arms around his neck. He puts his arms around your waist. You two walk backwards towards the bedroom. But first you kick the door close.

‘I’ve missed -kiss- you so -kiss- much.’

‘I love you Yoongi.’

‘I love you to.’

He closes the door. Not to be opened for the next 10 hours.

#bts fluff #bts yoongi #bts fandom #bts imagines #bts #bts army #bts fanfic #bts fantasy au #bts icons #bts scenarios #bts jimin #bts x reader #bts v #bts taehyung #bts smut #bts namjoon #blackpink lisa #blackpink

[fertilize-my-eggs]

Sweet lovin' dom! Izuku x chubby black sub fem! Reader smut part one

🚫MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI THANKS YOU ♡🚫

A/N: this is base on my post this just sweet wholesome soft smut so yeah, hope y'all enjoy this😊 part two

Warings: wholesome smut + body worship + dirty talking + oral (f) + creampie + unprotected sex + losing virginity.

You were sitting on the bench just looking at your sketchbook, your soft melanin hand was holding a pencil sketching out cute little characters from an anime show that you love. A man with shaggy green hair sits next to you not too close but it was a good three inches. He leans over to look at your sketch, you feel his emerald eyes watching your every move making you a bit nervous, you look up at him. "Oh, I'm so sorry to bother you." His hands wave around fast as he points at the small sketch of a rabbit. "I really like your sketches, that one looks really cute." His smile looks so pretty and soft, you couldn't help but feel all warm inside.

And that's how you meet your boyfriend Izuku. The first time felt like everything. The conversations are always so lovely and meaningful.

Midoriya would talk about his life and how he wasn’t able to become a hero like his friends, so he was focusing on a few jobs until he found his passion in boxing. You would join in and watch him teach the little ones self-defense. He would talk to his old friends from time to time.

"Hey babe, who's on the phone?" You poke your head out when you hear your boyfriend's light laughs.

"Haha... It's my childhood friend Kacchan dear." You can hear Katsuki's booming voice echo through his phone. You couldn't help the giggle as you are making homemade food.

You were making mac and cheese. There were a couple pieces of cornbread in a small bowl nearby. You're humming softly, dancing and swaying your hips to a random song that's stuck in your head.

You made a soft gasp when you felt his rough hands wrap around your pudgy waist.

You turned towards him as he kissed your soft wide nose, he put his forehead towards yours. “You look so gorgeous, princess."

Your smile always makes him melt heavenly; he could look at it all day.

"I'm making us some food." He gently held your hands, his thumbs rubbing it affectionately. "This looks good! Is that soul food?" You hum bubbly. "Yup! Is this the first time you're having some?" You could see your boyfriend's mouth drooling, nodding his head fast making you giggle.

After the meal was made, both you and Izuku had your usual conversations. He was talking about his chat on the phone with Katsuki and how his day was going great.

You watch him take a bite of the roasted chicken and couldn't hold the giggle back when he melts into the chair. "How was it, baby?" He made a sweet groan when he took another bite. "Y/n... I’m in heaven." You burst out laughing a bit.

You couldn't help but bite your lips and seductively said. "Ooh you should try to eat my pussy; bet you're gone be knocked out heavenly." His green eyes widened as he started to stutter with his words messily, you start to wheeze hard.

"Alright... I want to try it." He smirked at you while you're wiping your tears while his whole face is flustered. "Right now?" He nodded his head, you and him quickly finished the meal and started speed walking to your shared bedroom.

Both of your clothes were falling off with each step until you're both naked. Izuku laying on his back, you look a bit nervous since you never had sex or being eating out. Your fingertips were playing with your curls. "Baby... I don't want to crush ya what if you-." Your eyes meet with his fiery lustful eyes. "I will still love you babydoll." His deeply purred making you wet, you carefully straddled on top of him. Your rich brown thighs were on either side of his head, you looked down at him. "Ready babydoll? I won't stop until you scream out my name."

Now you're the one getting flustered. “Yeah, I'm ready.” His lean arms wrap around your pump thighs to pull you down, he starts off slow licking, sucking your hooded clit then doing little circular motion.

*Edit*

I have my wonderful mutual who's help me with the editing so give some love and support to @preciousamethyst for doing a great job ^y^

#mha #bnha #anime #fanfic #minors dni #age up deku x reader smut #minors and ageless blogs stay away #age up Izuku #Izuku x reader #chubby reader #wholesome smut #black reader

[blessyourhondahurley]

Keep Me Fed All Year

Dean has a small crisis of faith at a fall festival.

Suptober prompt: Maze/Maize Flufftober prompt: Wearing Each Other's Clothes Fictober prompt: “I chose you.” Inktober prompt: Gargoyle

(Read on AO3)

Summer in Kansas was over, there was no debating that. A late-September frost had hustled in all of the usual seasonal accoutrements: sweaters and scarves, changing leaves, pumpkin spice everything, and signs on every corner in town for–

“What on earth is a 'maize maze'?”

His angel wasn't fully an angel any more, but he could still look mighty smitey when he didn't grok a piece of pop culture. Dean chuckled and reached across the Impala's bench seat for Cas's hand.

“It's a 'family fun' kinda deal, babe. Farmer carves a bunch of twisty paths in his cornfield and charges folks top dollar to tramp around in there and get lost.”

Cas's furrowed brow did not clear at this explanation. “And where is the fun part of that?”

“Most times there's other attractions. The farmer's wife sells some cookies, his kids run a few little games. It's cute.” He realized just a moment too late that those last two words had determined his Saturday plans. Cas was a sucker for things that were cute. The collection of baby animal figurines on the shelf above his side of the bed was testament to that. As if on cue...

“Can we go?”

“'Course, sunshine. Anything you want.”

~~~~~

Which is how Dean finds himself handing over a twenty to a gangly pre-teen in a gargoyle costume. The kid folds the bill in half, then in half again, working with the exaggerated focus only an eleven-year-old with his very first grown-up job can muster, and drops it neatly in the slot on top of the metal box in front of him.

“Welcome to the Johnson family harvest festival corn maze is straight ahead maps are here on the table hay ride line forms next to the barn hot apple cider donuts come out of the fryer every fifteen minutes please enjoy your stay thank you for coming!!” He punctuates his spiel with a fast inhale, like the whole speech takes exactly one lung full of air to produce.

Dean nods and grabs a map, shoving it into his back pocket for emergency reference only. He ambles over to the cornstalk-bedecked entrance gate where his husband is waiting. Cas is wearing a navy blue Carhartt jacket that used to be Dean's. It looks about a million times better on him than it ever did on Dean. There's a soft gray knit cap on his head, and a matching scarf around his neck. (Cas gets chilled easily now that he's 90% human, so Dean always makes sure to wrap him up nice and snug whenever they go out.)

Dean's wearing his husband's cardigan, a favor returned after Cas saw the hungry look in Dean's eyes when Cas had tried on his Carhartt. The sweater's thick and warm, but it's definitely not Dean's usual lumberjack-meets-bounty-hunter vibe, so it's making him feel a little itchy.

A lot about this moment is making him itchy, actually. He's standing next to a cheerful scarecrow that’s holding an IT'S FALL Y'ALL sign. He's dressed like Mr. Rogers and he's probably gonna go on a hay ride in a few minutes. The man-shaped being next to him is wearing his mom's wedding ring, a ring that Dean pushed onto his finger in front of a raggedy band of their nearest and dearest, promising to love him always in this world and all others. All around him he sees happy families engaging in wholesome fun and there's a skull-filling siren blaring in his brain. This is not for you, it screams. These things are not for you.

Suddenly he's about three seconds from a panic attack. His heart starts trying to punch its way through his rib cage, and he's envying that eleven-year-old his lungs full of air. His eyes dart as he tries to scope out a quiet place to hide while he rides this shit out.

“It's okay to enjoy this,” Cas whispers in his ear. “You're allowed to be here.”

Dean's heart rate immediately slows, the panic ebbing as his husband takes his hand. Grateful tears spring to his eyes and Cas brushes them away with chilly fingers.

“Damn, sweetheart,” Dean murmurs, turning to bury his face in the crook of Cas's neck. “How do you always know when I'm freaking out?”

“Still 10% angel, remember? Besides, I know you inside and out, beloved. You still don't think you deserve to be saved.”

Dean huffs a watery laugh into the collar of Cas's jacket.

“Don't deserve to be this happy,” he agrees. “Don't deserve you.”

“Well, who knows what either of us deserves,” the angel says with a soft laugh as he leans his head sideways against Dean's. “But this is what we have. I chose you. You chose me. We're here and it's a beautiful day and I love you. So let's go inside. Did I hear that boy say something about donuts?”

Dean's tears come faster after that, and he drops Cas's hands to wrap both arms tight around his love. He's gonna need a minute here, but once he's calmed down a little they are going to eat themselves sick on apple cider donuts and get lost in a goddamn cornfield and Dean is so fucking happy he's afraid he might burst.

(Title from Harvest Festival by XTC)

Continued here...

#suptober22 #flufftober2022 #fictober22 #destiel #destiel fluff #day 01 #supernatural

[yourbelgianthings]

taz november celebration fic 1: card prompt vampire

i was pretty loose with the prompt as you’ll see, although vampire fish (also known as lamprey eels) are a real thing, this is a devo fic, 1k words, tw blood and general guidance being guidance @taznovembercelebration

Four year old Devo was having a very hard time sitting still. Sunday services had just ended, and he wanted to go play with all the other children in the parish courtyard. Of course, he was never permitted to do that, though. Guidance had acquiesced slightly and allowed them to sit on a bench outside rather than inside to have their discussion, and that was as good as it was going to get. She placed her hand on his shoulder and said,

"Devotion, look at me." Her voice was stern but not harsh. "You need to pay attention in services and when we talk. You're going to have a very important job someday and everything you do now is helping you get ready for that."He crossed his arms and pouted, an appropriate reaction for any other four year old, but unfortunately not the one who would be replacing the Hand of Guidance. "Why can't I have time to play too?"

Guidance sighed, getting frustrated now. "That's just not part of your training, okay? You're different from all the other kids. It's about time you got your head around the fact that you need to do what I say without asking questions and that I only have your best interests at heart. No more talking back. Now, where were we? Ah yes, tell me something you learned from this morning."Having been scolded so thoroughly, Devo only wanted to cry, but he took a deep breath and managed to remember that they had sung one of his favorite hymns earlier. Just as he was about to answer the question, a horrible pain exploded in his right arm, and he screamed. Devo didn't even notice yet, but Guidance saw that there was a deep bite in his arm that was bleeding profusely, and she jumped up to carry him inside. She noticed an eel slithering away, and cursed silently. They ran inside, immediately drawing the attention of Adelaide, the secretary, since Devo was still screaming and sobbing. As she ran over towards them, Guidance shouted, "Go find Orlean NOW and send him to the infirmary, I don't care what he's working on, he needs to drop it and help me!" Adelaide nodded in stunned silence and rushed off to obey her instructions. In the small infirmary at the back of the parish, Guidance set Devo down on one of the cots, where he immediately curled up into a ball. She rubbed his back and whispered, "It's going to be okay, Devotion. I just need you to sit up and let me see your arm, okay? Be brave for a little bit and then you can rest while Benefactor Orlean and I figure out what happened." Devo did not like Benefactor Orlean, but the mention of his name barely even registered right now while he was so overwhelmed with pain, extending his arm to Guidance so she could wash it, stop the bleeding and bandage it. He laid back down, cuddling the extra pillow Guidance gave him (he had no stuffed animals or toys) and passed out almost immediately. There was a light knock on the door, and Benefactor Orlean finally entered, looking very annoyed.

"This better be good, Guidance," he snapped. "I already have to waste enough of my time on Devotion with tutoring."Her face darkened. "Watch it, Orlean. I give you a lot of autonomy, and you do valuable work for the parish, but Devotion is our future, and everyone will be a part of ensuring his success, no matter how they feel about it. The problem at hand is that he could possibly die if we don't come up with a cure for a vampire fish bite. Not that you asked."

Orlean looked surprised. "Wow, okay. That's actually bad. Are you thinking a spell or a potion?" They headed off down the hall towards his office. In their worry about preserving the future of the Hand of Devotion, it hadn't crossed either of their minds that they had just left the current child in their care alone. So, little Devo did, in fact, wake up alone in a dark room, confused and still in pain. He didn't know what to do, but he he definitely didn't want to try and get up and go somewhere else, even though his own bed would be more comfortable than the cot. After a moment's thought, he sat up, still hugging the pillow, and started singing the hymn from this morning to himself. It was one of his favorites, it was about serving others. From his perspective, it didn't seem like his teachers at the parish actually did anything like that very often, but the lyrics and melody of the song were comforting to him, he often sung or hummed it to himself when he was upset. Eventually Guidance and Orlean returned with a weird purple liquid for him to drink, it tasted sour and fizzed in his mouth, but it worked and he didn't get sick at all. The bite itself slowly healed, scabbing over, then scarring and fading a bit over time. Devo was often told to be grateful and thank Benevolence for his healing, which he did, of course, but as he got older, he realized the ones who had really saved his life that day were Guidance and Orlean, which was honestly worse. He figured it was the least they could do against all the other bad things, though, and he didn't feel indebted to them by any means. When Devo finally left the parish, and got to figure out his own sense of style, he of course bought a very fashionable long jacket, which meant he didn't see the scar often, and he honestly preferred it that way. Whenever he did see it, he pictured four year old Devo in his mind, sitting in the dark infirmary, and gave him a hug. In some ways, he was still just as lonely, but he was much more powerful now. Hell, he had survived the vampire fish bite as a little kid with barely any control over his magic. He'd come a long way from there, and the world better look out for Devo La Main now.

#message from mirph #the adventure zone #taz november celebration #taz fanfic #fanfic #taz ethersea #devo la main #travis mcelroy #hand of guidance #benefactor orlean

[linpunny]

Same dessy sameeee!!!!! When he took off his coat in the church, I was having a whole ass moment of silence while inside I'm having the loudest horniest reaction until it leaks out and I sound like "tag yourself in this moment". Bitches. I'm Bitches that are on their hands and knees. When he threw that church bench, I screamed WHY CAN'T THAT BE ME?!?! THROW ME NEXT!!! ME NEXT!!! I WANT A TURN!!!

When he lifted up Takemichi, I said you lucky pussy, that should be me!!!!!! I want him to tousle my hair like that!!!! I want those crazy eyes on meeeeee!!!! I was crying and having the biggest fuckin tantrum. Then he's on his hands and knees on the steps outside the church after the fight... his pride wouldn't allow me to, but I damn sure would ask if I could hit it from the back. Just once. Pleassssssee 🥺🥺🥺 then he's by himself on the steps after his "subordinates" leave him behind, Hakkai basically gave him the verbal 2 week notice of resignation and left to be a man, Yuzuha gives her piece before she runs off after Hakkai. I wanted to sit next to him and rest my head on his shoulder so fucking much!!! I wanted to cryyyyyy!!!!!!! Every moment was just give me give me give me give me. Then the fucking meeting with Mitsuya was the worst moment for me. I'm yelling for him to put his feet away and get them off the table but also wanting to unbuckle his pants and get to work on my knees if you know what I mean 😏😏😏😏

I was fucking rabid inside and out every time his big ass was on screen, lord help me because I will make him see Jesus 🙏🙏🙏🙏😩😩😩😩💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💦💦💦💦💦💦

I can’t even begin to tell you but it was the moment his big fucking beefy ass stepped on the screen, when he walked into the neighborhood humming my whole damn thighs clenched and I legit had to pause the screen cause I was about to literally go insane. LIKE SIR? WHO THE FUCK GAVE YOU THAT MUCH RIZZ RIGHT OFF THE BAT??? HMMM? WHO SAID YOU COULD LOOK LIKE THAT?

Really I paused the screen and sat and stared at him for a good five minutes and then went to my bestie and cried cause i was feeling some type of way about him and I was strictly a Draken girly even after reading the manga. Taiju didn’t do anything to me until he was animated and I absolutely s(creamed) myself. Every single episode I was shaking violently bleeding at the mouth foaming howling at the moon like a dog in heat.

He closed lined takamitchi I drooled I have never wanted to be closed lined before im my life but if taiju is doing it sign me the the fuck up 😭😭😭😭

WHEN HE YANKED MITCHI I WANTED TO BE HIM, WHEN HE WAS THROWING HIM AROUND IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME/US. WHEN HIS DAMN BIG ASS FEET WERE ON THE TABLE I SHOULD HAVE BEEN THE TABLE!!!! HUMAN FURNITURE TYPE SHIT MEANT FOR MY KING 😩😩 I wanted to be in his lab riding when he was all laid out with his legs crossed while Mitsuya was talking. Ride him, ride his damn butter roll looking abs till I can’t no more

HE DIDNT HAVE TO THROW THAT CHURCH PEW IT WAS SO SEXY AND I WANTED TO BE THE PEW TOO. SLAM ME LIKE THAT DADDY PLEASE. BREAK ME MAKE MY BONES SHATTER 😩😩😩😩😩 I was behind a pew hiding the entire fight secretly cheering on my man. I literally struggled the entire church fight cause like “oh no Taiju don’t hit your siblings and kill takamitchi” but also “fuck me up like that with those big hands and fists” I was in my bestie’s DMs having a full on attack every week for taiju and trying to actively deny I didn’t want him.

HE throw off his jacket and I frow upped. I wanted to be on my knees licking up the blood off his back. Kissing his back tattoos, giving him a reach around in the church idc idc.

I cried when he fell to his hands and knees outside the church I want to tackle his big ass to the floor and lay on him and run my fingers over his tattoos and snuggle in the snow until it melted underneath his warmth. He’s he’s- he’s gotta be like a damn heater right? He was walking in the snow with just his trench coat on??? No shirt, just buttoned up. Man makes his own heat. But also when he fell to his knees I wanted to collar his ass and sit on his back 😌

#fellow taiju fucker: tamaki #if you saw this I don’t care perceive us that’s our man #it’s 9am on a Monday and I’m feral #dessy’s confessions