#is this moon creepy or wet

[sarahghetti]

can you pretend to be my boyfriend?; m.k.

pairing: marc spector x reader, steven grant x reader, jake lockley x reader

summary: the boys pretend to be your boyfriend in order to save you from a creepy stranger.

warnings: inappropriate behaviour towards the reader, female!reader.

moon knight masterlist | all masterlists

steven

you lean over the gift shop counter, eyes wide as you ask, “can you pretend to be my boyfriend?”

poor steven is just confused at first.

“pretend to be—wait, what do you mean—?”

he doesn’t get a chance to finish that thought because the man who’s been trying to flirt with you all day suddenly rounds the corner, and you’re out of time.

“there you are!” a smarmy grin, eyes looking you up and down. it makes your skin crawl. “I was worried that you might’ve left before I could get a chance to talk to you again.”

“yeah, wouldn’t want that, now, would we?” you mutter.

it clicks in steven’s brain then, though not exactly fast enough for him to come up with a retort other than, “right, yeah, right.”

the man’s attention doesn’t waver from you, however, and you squirm on the spot. time for a hail mary, you suppose, turning back to steven. “are we still good for lunch, babe?”

“oh, yes, lunch—right, of course, love,” steven nods, more confident. “I just need to finish up some last things here, if you’re willing to wait a bit?”

you’re ready to say no worries, take all the time you need when the guy scoffs, barely sparing steven a glance. “a sales clerk? really?”

“better than the wet tissue you are, bruv,” steven snaps back, so fast that he surprises himself a little. something simmers under the man’s expression, but steven’s faster. “do I need to call security?”

that finally gets to the guy, who just mutters curses under his breath before finally pissing off. your smile is genuine now when you look at steven. “thanks for that.”

“no worries—are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you nod. “don’t suppose you’re actually free right now, are you? the least I could do is buy you lunch as thanks.”

luckily for the both of you, he is, and he rounds the counter with a wide smile on his face before you lead the two of you out.

marc

he’s just waiting to place his order at a coffee shop when you walk in, some guy hot on your heels and prattling on despite your obvious discomfort.

“oh, hey, babe!” he doesn’t even realize you’re calling out to him until he meets your gaze, and the pleading look in your eyes is all he needs to understand what’s going on. “sorry I’m late.”

“it’s all good.” marc knows the drill, injecting warmth into his smile as he walks up to greet you. he gives you a small nod, letting you know that he’s got your back as he slips his hand into yours. “was worried about you for a minute there.”

“wait, are you two…?” the man looks between you, eyebrows furrowed.

“mhm.” he keeps his tone light, but is secretly watching like a hawk for any signs of escalation. when the guy’s mouth twists into a scowl, marc subtly tugs you behind him.

“you never said you had a boyfriend.” the venom in the words is terrifying, but marc doesn’t flinch.

“no need to cause a scene, man,” he says, tone amicable, but you take a peek at his face and his expression is as hard as stone. “now, if you’ll excuse us.”

marc leads you back into the line to order, squeezing your hand gently to stop you from looking over your shoulder. there’s the heavy stomping of feet before you hear the bell ring over the door as the guy leaves.

the relief is palpable. you finally let go of marc’s hand, face warm as you smile sheepishly at him. “thanks for the help. let me buy you a coffee?”

“don’t worry about it.” he shakes his head, but you offer again and, well, if you insist. he doesn’t mind spending the rest of his afternoon with you at all.

jake

he’s the one to notice your discomfort from across the pub, how you subtly shift away from the man leaning in close to speak directly into your ear.

when you meet his eyes, you mouth, help? and jake doesn’t even think twice before downing the rest of his drink and making his way to your table. he slaps a hand down onto the guy’s shoulder, making him jump. “think you’re in my seat, hombre.”

the man’s greasy smirk twitches, obviously thinking that jake is interrupting his ‘game’ or whatever the fuck. “nah, man, I’m just—”

“trying to hit on my girl, yeah, I can see that.” jake grins at him, but you get the impression that he’s baring his teeth more than anything. he looks to you, and his gaze softens. “you okay, there, baby?”

“better now,” you say, and it’s not a lie.

the guy turns to jake fully, sizing him up. “you think you’re so tough, huh?”

jake doesn’t even blink, just raises a single eyebrow as if daring for him to suggest taking the matter outside. it’s not even a competition, because the man backs off a moment later, angrily slipping out of the booth without looking back.

you don’t breathe until the guy finally leaves the building, at which point a heavy sigh falls from your lips.

“the nerve of that guy,” jake mutters, clicking his tongue.

“right?” you shake your head, then gesture to the now-vacant seat beside you. “care for a drink? I think I owe you after your help back there.”

“you owe me nothing,” he corrects, but slides in beside you anyways, taking your offer with a smile.

#moon knight x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #moon knight fanfic #my writing

[authorhjk1]

Interlude: Ms. Satan

(Kim Bora X Male Reader)

You immediately know it's a dream as soon as you open your eyes. Your body is that of an 18 year old. Standing in front of a large, dark building you feel shivers run down your spine.

Your friends made you do this. A bet. A bet that could earn you 200 bucks. Is it worth it? Maybe not. And yet, here you are. Although you are scared, you still want to find out what's going on in this building.

The cold night air messes up your hair. The stars and the moon seem unusual gloomy.

There are stories of some sort of ghost or witch or something. Hiding in this abandoned building. If the stories are true, no one has gone in there for two years now.

You gulp, the palms of your hands starting to sweat. The huge double doors are covered in yellow tape. "Caution" is written in big black letters all over them.

One of the doors is slightly ajar. Not creepy at all. You try to squeeze through the gap, hoping to not make a sound.

Your backpack feels heavy on your shoulders. You win the bet, when you leave this building tomorrow morning. Hopefully alive. For now, you plan to make your way to the roof, hoping to be able to sleep up there. There shouldn't be so much potential trouble up there. The problem is just getting there.

You hear your steps echo through the empty building as you start to climb the stairs. The bright circle of light from your flashlight illuminates the walls.

A cold breeze rushes through the building. You hear some weird noise further upstairs. You stop in your tracks. It sounded like someone was walking. But the sound is gone now. Maybe that was just your imagination.

You sigh as you reach the first floor. Five more to go. The circle of light keeps dancing on the walls in front of you as you begin the climb for the second floor.

Another sound. Your heart is almost in your throat. After a second you realize it's just rain. Heavy drops hitting the building and some of the broken windows down the hall.

You get a little wet as you climb the stairs, the rain making the steps slippery. But if it rains, you can't sleep on the roof.

You groan in annoyance. Your heart stops. There it is again. The sound somewhere in the building. As if someone is walking.

You ponder if you should just run. Just run for your life without looking back. There is definitely something here. Something that already seems to know about your presence.

You reach the second floor. Your senses heightened. Should you really turn back? But that would be so embarrassing. You just hurt some stuff. Probably just the wind.

You start to take the stairs to the third floor. After a couple of steps, you freeze. Your heart almost stops. The light of your flashlight shows you a scene you never wanted to see.

A woman is sitting on the stairs. Her dark eyes seem cold. And yet they look like they can burn with fire. Her dark hair is held back by a ponytail. Most of her body is covered in a black and orange fur coat. The patterns and colors remind you of lava. Two necklaces are decorating her neck and a huge golden flower ring is slipped on her finger.

The most eye catching are her boots though. They are white and almost reach her knees. The heels look quit high, which makes you think that these can't be comfortable at all. The most disturbing thing is the fact that splashes of blood are on them. Her white boots are covered in blood.

"Hello there, hero."

"Wha-What?"

Her voice sounds sultry. Her eyes seem to stare into your soul as she keeps talking.

"You are the first one after quite a while. I was almost getting bored."

"You.... You live here?"

She chuckles. It's a beautiful sound. For some reason you expected it to sound evil. Like that of a witch.

"Of course not. But I do feel some sort of connection to this place."

You hesitantly nod. She seems nice, but you would argue that her boots say otherwise.

"What's you name, hero?"

"It's-It's (y/n). But why do you keep calling me that?"

The woman chuckles again.

"Only heroes are brave enough to face me."

"Ah."

You nod in fake understanding. This woman seems to be a little out of her mind. Or is this actually something supernatural?

"You are here because you want to feel my warmth though, am I right?"

"Your-Your, sorry, what?"

"My warmth. The people in this area send me dozens of heroes over the last hundreds of years."

What is she talking about? Is she actually that old? But she can't be human then.

"Y-You are here for over a hundred years?"

"Don't young men like you prefer an older woman?"

"What?"

Another chuckle.

"You don't seem to have a clue what's going on."

"I-I don't."

The woman slowly let's her fur coat glide off her shoulders. Her black top is decorated with some lace around her cleavage. The straps show of her naked shoulders. She rests her chin on her hand.

"I will make this night the best of your life."

"R-Really?"

"Really."

Her smile seems a little warmer now then before.

"Come closer."

She motions you with a finger to step towards her. You do so. Her boot is right next to your leg now.

"Have you ever been with a woman before?"

You blush as you shake your head. The woman reaches out. Before you can react, she traces the outlines of your dick with a finger over your jeans.

"Virgins are always the best ones. They are so eager to please."

It seems like she said that to herself.

"Let me see that cock of yours."

She has been staring at it, but is now looking up at you.

"W-What?"

"Come on,boy. Take it out for me."

You gulp. Her voice has become a little deeper. More seductive.

As you open your jeans, you realize that you don't have a choice. As if she is making you do it.

Your pants drop. And a second later, your underwear does the same. The cold air makes you shiver as you are now completely naked from the waist down.

"Not bad."

The woman let's her fingertips dance over your length. You jerk away at first. Her hand is warmer than you expected. It's almost hot.

"What is that? Six inches?"

You nod as she wraps her hand around your cock. As she slowly starts to stroke you, you feel yourself harden.

Your desire to fuck her slowly starts to rise. You were scared at first. But it seems like she really wants this.

"What do you think about making it a little bigger?"

"W-What?"

There is that melodic chuckle again.

"Don't worry. It will only benefit you in the future."

You hesitate before you nod.

Your core starts to heat up and you see your dick starting to grow very slowly. In length and in girth. Six inches become seven, then eight and then nine.

"That's more like it."

The woman stops stroking you. She sticks her tongue out, letting it swirl around your tip.

You groan. You never felt this before.

Her lips slowly wrap around you. Your dick feels heavier than before. She looks up at you as she starts to suck you off. Her tongue is pressed against the underside of your shaft as she slowly takes more.

The woman retreats while stroking you again.

"And you taste good, too."

She winks, before sliding your cock into her mouth once more. The warmth heats up your whole body. Her saliva starts to coat your dick as she keeps sliding down your length.

You slowly start to enter her throat. You can feel it by the way her walls tighten around you. There is more friction now. She doesn't stop though. She keeps going and going.

Your eyes are wide in surprise and pleasure. You did watch some videos before, but none of the women were able to do it this easily. Especially without gagging. But for her it seems like a piece of cake.

You slide further down her throat. How is she taking all of that? She looks up at you, when she finally reaches your base. Your whole cock is inside her mouth and throat. Her walls massage your cock as she breaths, making you a little dizzy. How does this feel so good?

You see her using a finger to point at her throat. You crook your head the side. A visible bulge has formed in her throat. A familiar tug starts to build up in your core as you watch her place her hand on her own throat.

You feel the pressure of her hand as she pushes against her throat a little. Needing to tighten your grip on the flashlight you are holding, you try to hold it in. You don't want to cum so fast.

Your head starts to spin as she slowly retreats. Inch after inch leaves her throat and mouth. It's all covered in a thick layer of saliva.

"Does that feel good?"

Her question and her voice sound so innocent. As if she didn't just swallow your whole cock. You nod as she strokes your spit covered cock slowly.

"I think it's time to repay the favour."

She kisses your tip with her plump lips, before standing up.

"Get on your knees for mommy."

You are surprised by her calling herself mommy. And yet it does seem kinda fitting. You do as she says, kneeling down on the stairs.

The woman steps a step down, now standing almost directly above you. You are able to look underneath her black mini skirt. Her black panties have a golden miniature bell in the front.

"You have never eaten pussy, have you?"

You shake your head. You have seen it in the videos though.

"Stick out your tongue."

Once again, you feel as if you don't have choice. Before you can think about it, your tongue already leaves your mouth.

"Such a good boy."

She murmurs, while reaching out with her hand that's decorated with the big ring. Her finger slowly glides over your tongue. You feel it tingle a little, until she removes her finger.

"That should do."

The woman cups your cheek, while looking into your eyes.

"Now eat out mommy."

You reach underneath her skirt. Feeling the light fabric in your hands, you start to pull down her panties. The small bell jingles a little. It's barely audible.

You slide her panties down her legs. When you reach her boots, you fumble around a little, trying to get them over the white material. The fact that there is blood on them has already become unimportant to you.

Once they hit the floor, she steps out of them and kicks them aside. You straighten your back, now able to reach her pussy with your mouth. You are about to have your first taste, when you suddenly feel her hand in your hair. She pulls you back.

"You can't just go in there, honey. You have to start slowly."

You do as she says. You kiss her skin right above her right knee, before switching to the left. Slowly, you make your way up her creamy thighs. Her smooth skin tastes quite good. Not something you expected.

You become hungrier with every second. She sighs as you close in on her pussy, kissing the insides of her thighs.

Now that you are going slower, you can take a good look at her center.

Her pink pussy is hidden behind her folds, her clit barely peeking out. She is cleanly shaven, the skin just as smooth as her legs. You can see her lips glisten with arousal after your exploration of her thighs.

"Oh damn!"

She moans as you swipe your tongue through her folds. You have never done this before. And yet, your seem to know what you are doing. Or rather, your mouth knows what it's doing. It must be because of that thing she did with your tongue. A spell or something.

You begin to eat out the black haired woman. Moan after moan starts to spill from her lips. You push your tongue inside her pussy. Then, you swipe across her clit, drawing different shapes.

"Fuck. I shouldn't have given you this ability."

Her knees buckle as she gets overwhelmed by your new found skills. She has to hold onto your hair for support. You feel the wide sleeve of her fur coat rest on your head.

"Hold onto my waist."

You do as she says, holding her underneath the coat. Her skin feels a little warmer underneath your hands now.

"What a good boy."

She sighs and you can feel her, throwing her head back in bliss.

"You wanna make mommy cum, don't you?"

As if your body knows what to do to increase her pleasure, you nod. Because your mouth is still attached to her snatch, you make the woman's legs buckle again. The new sensation almost too much for her.

You feel her pussy becoming wetter as you feast on it. No spot stays untouched as you make sure to drive this unknown woman to her orgasm.

"Eat my pussy like the toy you are."

Her voice has become more sultry again as she nears her climax. Her grip on your hair becomes stronger. You feel her nails dig into your scalp.

"Mommy is gonna cum!"

She loudly announces her orgasm.

You keep up your work as she starts to cum. Her juices flood your tongue as she cums in your mouth. Her thighs close instinctively, trapping your head between them. Your face is pressed further against her pussy as she pulls at your hair.

You hear the woman breath heavily as she starts to come back to her senses. She parts her legs again, but doesn't loosen her grip on your hair. She pushes your head out of her pussy and makes you look up at her.

"You want to become a man?"

Her question sends shivers down your spine. You have never done this before. Especially not with a woman who seems to be supernatural.

But you know that the answer is yes.

She can see it in your eyes, her smile urging you on.

After letting go of your hair, she leans against the wall to your right. One foot on the step you are kneeling on, the other one step above.

"Come here then. Treat me like a man would treat me."

You almost jump to your feet, unable to hide your excitement. Standing right in front of her, you place your feet on the same steps like she did. She is a little smaller than you and yet, her pussy is on the perfect hight for your cock, due to her heels. It's tip grazes against her lower lips already.

"Put it in."

She whispers as she slings her arms around your neck.

"Take me."

You look down, as you start to part her folds. For the first time in your life, you start to penetrate a woman's most intimate area.

Her walls squeeze your cock tightly as you push forward. You go slowly, not wanting to hurt her. She bites her lip as she looks up at you.

"Give me all of it. All of your cock."

You feel her pussy molding around you as you penetrate her further. As if her cunt is reshaping itself to fit your cock like a tight sleeve.

You groan as you finally bottom out inside of her.

"Fuck. That's a good boy."

She bites your earlobe slightly, before whispering in your ear.

"Put your hands on my hips. And then, fuck me. Fuck me good."

You place your hands on her sides once more as you nod.

"That's good!"

You see her closing her eyes as you slowly pull out. Her pussy seems to try to keep you inside as you struggle to even pull out half of your cock.

You push back inside, making the woman lean her head against the wall.

"Faster, boy."

You do as she says, finally convinced you are not able to hurt her like this.

Your thrusts become faster and stronger. Her wetness makes a little easier to slide in and out.

More lewd words and moans are thrown your way as you start to actually fuck her. You nail her against the wall with every thrust, before you retreat. Then, you pull her body towards you as you thrust forward, pinning her against the wall yet again.

You keep your steady pace. Her moans increase in volume as she feels your cock hit the right spot deep inside her body.

"That's it. Pound your mommy like a good toy."

You fuck her harder. You pull her forward harsher, before slamming her against the wall.

The longer you keep fucking this woman, the longer your primal desires take over. You care less and less about your surroundings. You only care about her. Her and her pussy.

How rough you are with her doesn't matter anymore. You have to take from her as much pleasure as you can. Use her body to make yourself cum.

The woman seems to have sensed the change of your nature.

"That's it, boy. "

She moans into your ear.

"Fuck me like the slut I am. Use my hole until you cum."

You let out a groan as you think about cuming. You realize that you are lasting longer than ever before. When you do this on your own, it usually takes just a few minutes. But you feel like you have been fucking her four half an hour. Maybe that's another thing that changed, when she made your dick grow.

"Pound me with that cock of yours. I want to feel all your cum on my face."

Her words make you want to step up your game. You feel her increasing wetness as her juices slowly dribble out of the connection between your bodies.

"Fuck. You're gonna make mommy cum again."

You groan, close to your own orgasm as well. You don't know if you can survive her climaxing around your cock. Her pussy is already incredibly tight.

"Yes! Make mommy cum around that big cock of yours!"

You strengthen the grip on her hips, trying to use it to thrust into her just a little harder.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

You almost scream as well as you feel her orgasm. Her walls tighten around you, trying to milk you. Her nails scratch at the back of your neck. Lewd sounds leave her mouth, which is dangerously close to your ear. Her legs buckle.

You stop thrusting, giving her time to regain her composure. It takes her a couple of moments.

Once she has come down, she looks at you hungrily.

"Increasing your length and stamina was a good call."

She traces your jawline with a finger.

"But the best feature is your cum. From now on, you will drown every woman in cum."

"What?"

You are too stunned to speak. Partially because you are still trying to recover as well, while her pussy is still hugging you tight. You believe she is exaggerating.

"You don't trust me?"

Her hand wanders to the back of your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair. You suddenly feel her pussy tighten around you. You can't believe she is able to adjust the size of her cunt. She squeezes you, making your cock twitch inside of her. You feel overwhelmed as she pulls at your hair at the same time. Her pussy is almost painfully tight by now.

"I trust you. I trust you!"

You sigh as you feel her releasing her grip. Both around your cock and on your hair.

"A toy doesn't question it's mommy. Understood?"

You nod.

"Good. Now be a good boy and cum on my face."

She pushes you away, making you slowly glide out of her pussy.

You watch her sit down on the stairs, like she did as you first saw her.

"Your cock looks so tasty with all my cum on it."

She takes you into her mouth, making you groan. Her lips wrap around you, her cheeks hollow. You feel her tongue dance along your cock, teasing and edging you. There is no way you are going to last much longer.

As the woman sucks you off again, you feel a tug in your stomach. It's a little stronger than it usually is. Maybe because you actually had sex? Or because you have more cum? You don't know. But it feels so good.

She doesn't even need to take your entire length down her throat again. Her lips have reached the middle of your cock as you feel yourself twitching.

Her eyes are wide with lust, demanding you to cum right now.

You can't hold back. A new kind of rush fills your system.

The first shot of cum hits the back of her throat, before she is able to react. She moves her head away, pointing your cock towards her face with one hand.

You have to hold onto the steel banister as you start to paint her face. Rope after rope of cum covers her perfect skin. Some lands on her lips. More lands on her closed eyelids, making them visibly heavier. It's dripping down her forehead, while the hair that frames her face is coated in cum as well.

But it still doesn't stop. You give her so much, that it starts to drop down from her chin. She tries to save it by opening her mouth and letting her tongue roam around. But a second after her mouth is opened, it's almost overflowing with your cum already. She has to gulp it down, preventing herself from choking and suffocating as more and more runs down her throat.

Once you finally finish cuming, you almost don't even dare to look at her.

Her whole face is covered by a thick layer of white, sticky cum. She can only open her eyes halfway, the cum on her eyelids weighing them down.

"What did I tell you?"

She chuckles, before she starts to lap up your cum from her face. Not just with her tongue, but her finger as well.

"This is even more than I expected. Probably because this was your first time."

You are unable to respond, still trying to comprehend what has happened in the last hour. For some reason her cum covered face turns you on again. The desire, to use her body, from earlier is slowly coming back.

When she looks up at you, you see her licking her finger for the last time. Her face is mostly cleaned up.

She seems to sense your new found desire. A smile forms around her lips.

"That's right, boy. You want to fuck me again, don't you?"

You nod hesitantly.

"You can't take your eyes off me. You want to feel every part of my body underneath your hands."

You nod again. Her words make your cock hard.

"I still have some time, before my husband comes home."

"W-What?"

You didn't even think about the possibility of her being married.

"Don't worry about him. He never pays attention to me anyways."

She reaches forward, letting her hand stroke your cock again.

"I'm always trying to teach boys like you something new. But I've already given you my mouth and my pussy."

She kisses the tip of your cock, her eyes a little darker.

"There is one more hole of mine that you can use. Make my ass cum. And maybe I will se you again after tonight."

The man on his throne laughs as he looks at the flames. His red body is glistening with sweat, screams of fear echo in the distance. Through the flames, he watches you stand behind his wife, aligning your cock with her rear entrance.

"You always corrupt the good ones."

He laughs to himself, his voice raspy and dark.

As you push inside of her, he can hear her moan, telling you to cum in her ass later.

Satan grins as he stands up, ready to punish the sinners that are burning in hell.

------------

Hi everyone!

Enjoy this interlude. It wasn't planned at all, but after seeing SuA's Instagram post..... What am I supposed to say?

Hope you guys like the concept.

I'm excited for the new album.

Have a nice day!

#kpop #kpop smut #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #dreamcatcher #dreamcatcher smut #kim bora #bora

[lawsofchaos1]

Star Wars Promptlet

In one universe Obi-Wan Kenobi bows shallowly at the end of his formal report of the Battle of Naboo and requests the Council free the mother of his new Padawan from slavery on Tatooine. The Council makes agreeable noises and Obi-Wan tells himself that they will act on his request. However, wary of being accused of attachment, wary of his Padawan being taken away from him because he's too young, too inexperienced, too emotional, too much of a failure, Obi-Wan never checks and he never asks again.

In another universe, Obi-Wan Kenobi sees the dismissive body language of the Counselors during his report - it can't possibly be a Sith they whisper in the eddies of the Force - and he doesn't make a request before he leaves. Instead, he shows up at Quinlan's door in the middle of the Temple's night cycle and his creche mate takes one look at his face before putting on his Shadow blacks and sneaking them past the Temple guard.

Forty one cycles later, Obi-Wan picks Anakin up from where he'd been undergoing the crash course of So You Think You Want To Be A Jedi Knight in the Initiate's hall (which went shockingly well, Anakin making friends left and right and filling in some severe baseline knowledge gaps most of the Temple inhabitants took for granted). He hands his Padawan a small, carved bracelet - a broken chain - made from one of the few native plants of Tatooine, a gift from Shmi, and watches Anakin's eyes grow liquid-wet in joy and wonder.

Most people gloss over that Qui-Gon had bought Anakin and not Freed him, Anakin had noticed. Obi-Wan never needed to be told the difference. And Obi-Wan hadn't bought Shmi, he'd simply provided her what she needed to Free herself. And maybe a substantial portion of the Mos Epsa slave quarters along with her. (But that pesky little slave rebellion that started while Obi-Wan and Quinlan just so happened to be on planet absolutely definitely for sure couldn't be traced back to them. They'd made certain of that.)

The Temple still just shy of outright forbids Padawans contact with their birth parents, but every so often - although at least once a year - Obi-Wan sends Anakin on some strange errand that inevitably ends with him slipping into a booth and finding himself sitting next to his mother for a few precious hours of catching up. Their first meeting (after hearing all about how his mother Freed herself and so many others of course) is all about the new friends he made during his moon-cycle in the Initiate's dorms and how four of them have decided to claim him as a crechemate since apparently every Jedi needs crechemates and he came in too old to get them the normal way. Anakin thinks from watching Obi-Wan with Quinlan and Bant and Garen that this means he has siblings now.

(A few years later Anakin's definitely-siblings get sent with him on his weird errand that happens to be on Anakin's life-day and Shmi makes them all a cup of desert-scented tea and welcomes them into the family. Anakin doesn't cry, it's just the steam from the tea making his cheeks wet.)

When Palpatine starts showing a little too much interest in a young Padawan, Anakin listens when Obi-Wan warns him something might be wrong. After all, his Teacher is a Chain-Breaker- why would Anakin doubt him when his words suggest that Palpatine may be too close to a Depur to be trusted? His crechemates also don't like it and his mother says words he didn't know she knew in her own reaction.

The anonymous report Anakin submits to the Senate Guards that they might want to check in on Senator Palpatine and his creepy obsession with young kids stays anonymous, but it does get leaked and the ensuing media storm starts strong and ends stronger with the discovery of a Sith Master.

In short, Obi-Wan helps Shmi Free herself and a war that breaks a galaxy never starts.

#lawsofchaos rambles #star wars #obi wan kenobi #alternate universe #canon divergence #star wars prequels #anakin skywalker #obi wan and anakin #tatooine slave culture

[tarydarrington]

There is one upside to the spiderwebs: Dorian can usually tell that he’s dreaming.

“Tell me,” he says, examining his lute, refusing to make eye contact with the presence looming behind him, “is this actually you? Or am I imagining you all by myself, these days?”

There comes a wet clicking as though of pincers or long, sharp legs. He forces his shudder into a sigh.

That’s the thing: the Spider Queen, her royal creepy highness, never whispers to him anymore when he’s awake. Two beds over, she’s doubtless playing in Opal’s head instead, trying and failing to spin her into a trap.

A sticky tangle of webs weaves itself between his lute strings. His skin crawls with dozens of tiny, invisible legs.

“Is there really a difference?” whispers that familiar voice. “What makes you think I couldn’t hear you if you called for me in that pretty little head?”

Her rumble of laughter comes from every direction at once. Dorian fights the urge to dig into his ear, where the tickle probes deeper and deeper. The itch feels too real for comfort.

It’s not out of the realm of possibility that this nightmare is her making. Opal herself says that things have been quieter lately, and that the voice in her head is more often than not afraid.

And after all, what does a frightened spider do but seek out a new place to hide?

“This is your fault, you know.”

Dorian whirls, finding nothing but empty black laced with spiderwebs. His brother’s voice is unmistakable, but Cyrus is nowhere in sight. Something thick and wet drips down walls he can’t see.

“If you had just stayed where you were supposed to, we would both be safe at home right now.”

“Well, that’s not very nice,” Dorian says lightly. “I hardly think I’m responsible for your decisions.”

There comes a sound of derision that is somehow at once his brother, his mother, and his father. Dorian rolls his neck and hopes it doesn’t look like the squirming it is. The clicking of spider legs grows louder, closer, more insistent. He blinks, leaving his eyes squeezed shut just a heartbeat too long.

“Dorian?”

His eyes fly open. Was there a stone in his hand before? It rests there now glowing faintly blue, warm to the touch.

“Why’d you go?”

Orym’s voice, layered strangely over itself, rings in his ears. Dorian’s fingertips feel numb. He forces a breath of laughter.

“Oh, things to do,” he says. “You know how it is. Something always comes up, doesn’t it?”

With a tight, mirthless smile, Dorian tucks the stone into his web-lined pocket. It will take more than that to fool him. Even neck-deep in nightmares, the memory of headache after headache reminds him that Sending hasn’t worked in weeks.

“Wouldn’t it be so funny if you were doing this to yourself?” Fearne’s voice whispers directly into his ear. He manages to only jump a little, composing himself again as her voice dissolves into breathy laughter all around him.

“Maybe it’s funnier if the Spider Bitch got to you after all that fighting,” says Opal’s voice, just over his shoulder. “You really thought you won, huh? And you didn’t even get anything good out of it.”

Her voice multiplies until it sounds as though a thousand copies stand in a circle all around him.

“You didn’t protect your friends.”

Opal’s voice, Fearne’s voice, Cyrus’s, Orym’s, and a dozen others repeat it one after the other, running together into one continuous whisper. From a thin line of web, a tiny spider drops down onto his shoulder.

He takes a slow breath, deliberate and steady. A dream. It’s only a dream. A few more moments and he’ll be startled awake, and all of this will fade from memory.

Unless the Spider Queen is really here and burrows into his mind too deeply to pull back, of course, but that isn’t a very useful thought.

“Dorian.”

The whispering stops. As though a curtain has fallen around him, muffling an unseen audience, all is suddenly silent. Dorian turns in all directions, finding everything still and black.

The stone is back in his hand.

“We’re alive,” Orym says. “Been to the moon. Going back.”

Behind his voice, the whispers begin to build again. Dorian strains to hear Orym over them. Something about this feels different.

“Find the Tempest.”

Tempest, Tempest, Tempest echoes in the dark, melding with the murmuring.

“If I don’t get the chance again…”

“Enough.”

This is too far. This is knocking on a door Dorian has kept carefully shut—a door through which the Spider Queen is most certainly not invited. He takes a step forward into nothingness, a liquid that might be water splashing underfoot.

“I’ve really missed you.”

The ground gives way, and Dorian falls headlong into waking.

Catha hangs brightly in a sky that stretches as far as the eye can see. Around him lie his friends, and around them a sprawling field rolls with the wind. Dorian’s heart pounds as he braces both hands on the ground, sitting up to feel the wind on his face.

His fingertips dig into the dirt. The dew-soft ground is clear of spiderwebs. Just an ordinary, everyday nightmare. The gods are far too preoccupied to whisper in his ears.

He shouldn’t have needed the spiderwebs to know it was a dream. His brother would never blame him for any of this, and neither would Orym.

There are a lot of things that Orym—grieving, heartsick, married-at-heart Orym—wouldn’t do.

Dorian takes a breath, running a thumb over the Sending Stone in his pocket. It feels warm to the touch despite the weather, the way it might if a message had truly come through. Dorian stuffs it into his bag with a knot in his chest.

Morning comes after very little sleep, and Dorian crawls out of his bedroll to find the others already gathered around the remains of their campfire, breakfast in hand. He waves off Dariax’s offer of a stale pastry with what he hopes resembles a carefree smile. The Stone weighs heavy in his bag.

He finds an excuse: they’re running low on water, and there’s a stream nearby. It’s easy enough to slip away from the group and find a quiet clearing out of earshot. He sits cross-legged beside the rushing water, spends a moment debating exactly how foolish he’s being, then fishes the stone from his bag.

He clears his throat. Takes a breath. Lets it out, clears his throat again, and takes another.

“Orym.”

The stone buzzes with magic. Dorian’s heart hammers in his ears.

“I hope you’re out there somewhere. Silly to think this time would be any different. I miss hearing your voice.” He grimaces. “Opal and Dariax say hello!”

The message cuts out before the last word is out of his mouth, his head crowding with static. Dorian winces and rides it out, wiping a thin trail of blood from his nose.

Well. That settles that.

Probably for the best—what was he thinking with a line like that? ‘I miss your voice?’

He tucks the stone away, dipping his waterskin into the stream. Only a dream. He will call the awful feeling in his chest resignation and examine it no further.

It had been a silly thought, he reminds himself as he returns to the group with a smile and a wave. He ought to have known by the spiderwebs.

#hello friends. i have wrat #dorian storm #dorym #cr spoilers #critical role spoilers #c3 #mine #mine:fic #i am rusty but i am not immune to dorym crumbs #there is some exu-typical spider-based creepiness in this one if that is not your jam #dorian

[meowmeowmeowmeow4x]

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 16

MASTAPOST

tell me what u like about the chapter :D guess where the story's going, anything! gimme fuel qwq

Damian lay on his belly on Phantom’s chest as the boy floated just underneath the surface. It was night time, and the Atlantean town they’d sacked was far behind them now. Here they only had the stars to accompany them, wobbling and swaying over the distortion of the water.

They were so close… Damian pushed himself up with his arms. His head breached the surface, water washing over his face like a veil. His eyes widened as he took in the beauty of the night sky, much more comfortable without the blinding sunlight when he’d first tried this.

There was something comforting about the stars, something beautiful outside this world that would be there no matter what, even in his most miserable nights with the League. It was something he missed when he moved the Manor underneath Gotham’s smog-filled skies.

Damian pushed himself further, balancing himself on his tail and hip fins instead of his arms. The gentle sea breeze prickled at his wet scales, causing him to shiver. It brushed against his ear fins and gave a sense of immeasurable calm. Just him, Danny, the stars and the whistle in the wind.

And a feeling of suffocation.

Damian’s lungs demanded air. Or was it water? He inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of the sea from above it rather than underneath, but it didn’t help. He inhaled again, but the pressure remained.

What- What was this madness?! Sirens could breathe over water. This was indisputable. Danny had been able to breathe and talk over water the night Damian was transformed. Damian was able to breathe air and talk then. Damian sucked in more and more air, desperately trying to sate the need for oxygen. Why couldn’t he breathe?!

 Damian’s vision twisted. His head spun. His chest felt like knives being stabbed into it.

Hands grabbed him. Danny pulled him back under, where the water provided sweet relief. Damian clutched his chest, as if any moment now he would drown again.

“Are you ok Damian?” Danny’s hands hovered over him, like he was fragile china. Damian scowled.

“Why couldn’t I breathe? What has happened to me?” Damian asked, demanded, heavy with accusation.

“Dude, your lungs are water balloons right now. You gotta empty ‘em out before you can breathe air.” Danny said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Damian’s cheeks burned. He turned his back on Danny and crossed his arms.

“I was aware. I was merely testing you.”

Danny poked him in the sail, the sensitive touch causing Damian to hiss instinctively. “I mean if you’re the siren expert, then by all means!”

Damian did not dignify him with a response. Instead, he surfaced again, determined. Instead of inhaling in panic, trying to pump air into lungs at full capacity, Damian focused on exhaling, on pushing the water out.

His throat cramped with pain. The young siren gargled and gasped. His throat clamped and throbbed, like he was pushing a jagged boulder up. He barely managed to spit out a meagre drop of water before Danny dragged him under again.

The older boy pulled him to his chest, stroking his back as Damian coughed and hacked.

“Ok that was my bad, are you ok?” Danny said, ear fins drooping. Damian wheezed, his eyes closing as the pain abated.

“Do you go through this every time you surface?” Damian shuddered. What would happen to him once he got home? He wouldn’t be able to walk, and now couldn’t even breathe without immense pain.

“Hehe, no.” Danny deadpanned. “You’re supposed to use your gills.”

Danny tapped on his own gills. Instinctively, Damian moved his elbows to cover his. Lately he had been keeping sane by not thinking too much about the creepy feeling of having water flow through the slits in his chest, how exposed and vulnerable it made him feel. How it gave him a glaring weakness that could be easily exploited.

“Just open up your gills, and let the water drain out. It’s that simple.”

Damian sputtered. “What did you say?”

Danny shrugged, like he was explaining grade school mathematics to a two-year-old. “Like this.”

Danny’s gills flapped open. It was only from years of stoic training that Damian did not gag at the sight of Danny’s pale flesh revealed underneath his aquatic breathing apparatus. His eyes trailed to his own set of gills.

“Is there another way?” Damian was not avoiding this issue, nor was he ‘procrastinating’ as Richard would insipidly suggest. He was merely searching for a more optimal alternative.

“We’re sea creatures, Damian. I consider myself lucky for being able to not drown in air at all.”

Damian swallowed the lump in his throat. He was the son of Batman and Talia Al Ghul. He could face this. Being unable to breathe above water would make him a liability on this journey. He had to push through.

Damian prepared to resurface, gathering his nerves.

“Just relax. You can do it, Damian. It’ll be as easy as breathing.”

Encouraged by the prospect of not hearing any more puns, Damian pushed his upper half over the surface. Accordingly, Danny also pushed closer. This high over the water, Damian wobbled as his body adjusted to his weight in the air.

The pressure started to mount on his chest. Damian focused on the slits between his ribs, on the alien feeling of wind blowing into them and hitting exposed flesh. He squinted his eyes and tried to push the water out through his gills. He flexed and contracted his arms and stomach, searching for the unconscious switch in his brain that could activate the write muscles.

It was too much. He went under again.

“This is proving more difficult than I had anticipated.” Damian huffed, chest heaving from strain.

“I can tell.” At Damian’s glare, the older boy raised his hands in defense. “Hey, you looked legit constipated up there. I was starting to worry you’d actually make a mess of yourself. Now, like I said, all you need to do is-”

Damian hissed at the older boy’s mockery. “I can take care of myself. I need no advice to do something as simple as breathing. Thank you.”

Damian glared at the surface, the invisible barrier between this world and the old one, and redoubled his efforts. The pressure came back. Damian twisted his body and nerves, but he couldn’t get a single gasp of air in. He sank. He re-emerged, he suffocated again. Each time Damian pushed himself further, only to be met with the same difficulty. Each time left him sorer, more cramped.

Until after many an attempt, Damian slumped against Danny’s chest, scaled skin warm despite the cold, deep-sea looking appearance. His muscles turned to jelly, even as he feebly pushed against the older boy’s scales for another attempt.

The young siren felt soft hands wrap around his waist. Damian tried to push away, to wiggle out. Danny’s chest vibrated with a low him, and it was like his strings were cut, and Damian’s resistance ceased. All he could do was mutter weakly.

“What are you doing?”

Danny surfaced, arms keeping Damian under, until they began to pull him up too. Damian’s heart accelerated. He could not stop the frightened chitters forcing their way out. His fins went rigid. Was this it? Did Phantom finally lose his patience, and decide Damian was no longer worth the effort? This was bad. He needed to escape and he needed to escape yesterday.

But as Damian began to struggle, the rumbling vibrations from the elder’s chest intensified, and the small boy went limp again. His muscles, sore from exertion and rendered even weaker by the strange biological signal, refused to move. All he could do was tilt his head away, trying to delay the inevitable. Helplessly, he watched the surface creep closer and closer, until he went over.

Damian waited for his death. In his prayers, he apologised to Father, to Richard, even to Drake, for everything. In this moment, as tears pricked his eyes as he was helpless but to drown in fresh, oxygen-rich air, Damian resigned himself.

The pressure did not come.

His chest tingled. Pinpricks poked the skin and outer scales, and along the lining of his gills. Water ran down his chest and over his abdomen. Damian blinked, and looked down.

His gills were open, fully open, gaping wide and exposing his insides for the world to see, but they were open. And water flowed out of them, emptying his lungs. Damian gasped, and felt sweet relief as cold, burning, fresh air finally filtered into his body. His body wracked from the sweet release, chest struggling to accommodate the big greedy gulps he took.

“And now you shut them, keep the air going out the other way.”

Damian nodded glumly. That he could manage. A swift motion, and the flaps of scales and skin shut tightly, leaving only thin lines on his body to suggest that he ever had gills in the first place.

For a moment, he felt human. Even as he actively commanded his breaths, he felt more like a normal human again than he had in the last 48 hours.

“T-thank you.” Damian said, cursing the weakness in his voice. Not to mention how it sounded completely different now, travelling through water instead of air. It was unnerving, but he couldn’t place why. He felt too tired for more riddles about his body. “You have saved me a great inconvenience.”

Danny quietly chuckled. “It was literally what I told you. You need to loosen your muscles to get the water out. This whole time you’ve been all tight and wound up like a spring lock. Dude I think you even sleep all locked up too. That can’t be healthy.”

Sleep was when you were at your most vulnerable. Any threat could walk by and do with you whatever they pleased. In his life, there would be danger at every turn. It was a sentiment he’d expressed to the others in his family when they too voiced the same concerns.

He would never be safe in this life.

A finger poked his cheek. Damian snapped his teeth at the infantilizing gesture, only for it to retreat back just as quickly. He turned around and looked up, muscles no longer rendered limp by the subjugating vibrations.

Danny pointed to the sky, a soft smile on his face.

“It’s a good night to stargaze, isn’t it?” A comet whizzed by in the night, a streak of white trailing behind it, like an artist’s brush across a canvas. Now that he could breathe again, Damian felt an overwhelming sense of calm again, treading water and watching the stars shine.

#dpxdc #danny fenton #merman #damian wayne #dcxdp #merboy #angst #danny phantom #mermaid au #merboys #mermaid transformation #transformation angst #animal instincts #mer biology #sirens #damian drowns in air #drowning #suffocation #comfort #fluff

[sweaterweatherever]

Could I maybe request a Xavier one-shot where reader is part hell hound and he doesn't know that's a hell hound and so he meets hell hound version of her every night at his shed and he just takes it in as his pet but then one day she has a slip up maybe she got too angry or something and accidentally transforms infornt of him and ends fluffy or smutty if smutty then maybe he calls her his pet and it's kinky

Imagine is just cuz it looks nice and I was excited to share it when I found it looking on Google lol

Stray (Xavier Thorpe x Reader)

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x AFAB Reader

Warnings: Friends to enemies to lovers. Smut. AGED UP CHARACTERS. Minors DNI. Pet play. I promise you, it’s not as dirty as you might think! Unprotected vaginal sex, mentions of anal. Xavier gets whiny, and actually calls the reader a bitch during a fight.

A/N: I finally did it and changed the colors and icon! As for the fic, I made it so no one knows what reader is because it made more sense for Xavier not catching on. Also, go to therapy. Don't be like them. Maybe OCC? Thank you all who encouraged me to post it, because it is wordy! I just love writing desperate romantics.

Requested: Yes. Loved getting the image @littlewierdalien Sorry if I just took your idea and went wild.

You stretched while sitting cross-legged on your bed. Your arms came to raise high over your head, and then you bent forward. It was no use. Your joints were still hurting.

“You should go run.” Yoko said, bored out of her mind. She was scrolling in some social media app on her phone, with the sound off, so you were unable to tell what it was. “I can hear your back pop from here.”

“Yeah, maybe. It’s just I don’t…” You walked to the window. Not a full moon, you should be safe from werewolves. But the weather was still nice, and it was before curfew, so there was a chance there were some students out there. “I don’t think it is a good idea.”

“No one will see. And if they do, what does it matter? As long as they don’t see you shift, no one needs to know you are anything else but a stray.”

“You are pushy today.” But still, you took off your jacket, leaving you in your t-shirt and sweatpants. You took your shoes off too. Quickly, you connected your phone to the charger and plugged it in.

“You are driving me crazy, with all the popping and stretching. You will get, like, arthritis or something.” Yoko said, frowning. She was somewhat right. Your senses were enhanced too, and you knew hearing your joints creak could be creepy. If you could stop it, you would, but staying too much time in one form tended to make things like this one happen.

“Fine.” You grumbled. “I will be back before midnight.”

The halls of Nevermore were quiet, so close to curfew. There were barely any students out of the dorms, and you stuck to the shadows, making sure of not being seen. Your feet were hurting from the cold, but it was for the best. The fewer clothes you took with you, the less you had to hide when you shifted.

No one bothered you as you made your way to the forest. It was a beautiful night, the forest smelled like wet earth and leaves, but it had passed enough time since the rain that there were interesting scents there. Your inner hound was begging you to let her loose, so she could chase them and exhaust herself running down some prey.

You found a secluded path and started stripping, placing your clothes beneath some trees. When you were younger, changing had been as easy as breathing, often shifting between the two in your childhood home, secluded from society. But then, you had gotten older, you had needed to go outside your protected little bubble, and you had to put an end to it because it just wasn’t normal. Little girls weren’t supposed to turn into big, salivating hellhounds, it just wasn’t right. It didn’t help that hellhounds were an endangered species, since they were the perfect guard dogs. If anyone found out what you were, you could have ended up hunted down by unscrupulous people, who would love to use you as a breeding mare for perfect little soldiers. And so, you had learned to space out your shifts, spending a long time in your human form and hiding what you were.

In Nevermore, that made you a mystery. No one, except your roommate, knew exactly what kind of outcast you were. Some speculated you were a normie, here by chance. You and the staff had encouraged that perception, even at the cost of making you an easy prey for bullies. It was for your protection, Principal Weems had said. She didn’t want the kind of attention that your secret being known would bring to the school, or to you.

Shifting was harder, now, body out of practice, out of tune with your double nature. You took a deep breath and prepared for the pain that always came when you spent too much time stuck as a human. The crackling of bones, the joints popping, and the hair piercing skin was as unpleasant as ever. To you, it felt like it took an eternity, but you knew thanks to Yoko the shift was smooth. One second there was a girl there, the next a black hound stood.

You opened your jaws, making them pop. It felt good to be in this form again. Things just seemed clearer, easier. Dog’s thoughts were much simpler than humans, and they were such instinctual creatures, too. It was all about the smells, the noises, the tastes. It was a refugee for when life as a human got too complicated.

You started sniffing the place. There were a few familiar smells in the forest. Boy, outcast, like you. You didn’t know who he was, but he was near. Strange smell, boy. The one who hanged around Wednesday, the barista. He had always smelled odd. Normie, female. Mrs. Thornhill. You liked normies's scent, it was much softer than outcasts. Her scent would be the one you would track for the night, you decided.

You did a few laps, the same she must have done when collecting her plants. Then, you got distracted by a bird, and choose to chase it, unknowingly dragging you closer to a well-travelled path. Again the smell, boy, outcast. Not nice, it smelt artificial. It made you sneeze. The boy's scent was covered by something, without it, it could be much nicer. It wasn’t perfume, you knew how that smelled. You were pondering what it was when the bird suddenly startled, and so did you. Someone was coming down the path. Your heart was beating loudly in your chest, your legs tensing, ears going down. It was a tall person, although you couldn’t see their face. Boy. Outcast. Not wolf, not gorgon, not vampire. Sirens and psychics, those were harder to detect. And much harder to fool. In your panic, you forgot the first rule of the forest. Watching your step.

You fell into a ditch with a sharp yelp. Pain throbbed in your front leg, and you started crying out almost immediately. It was instinct.

“Who's there?” A male voice asked. You shut up immediately. It was no use. You heard the tell-tale sound of leaves crunching underneath boots. Shifting would be a bad idea, leaving you hurt, naked and stranded in a ditch with a stranger. But staying like this left you vulnerable: What if it was a bad person and tried to hurt you? Some people did that to dogs. Or… seeing you were injured, chose to be merciful and kill you? People did that too to dogs, all the time. Or was it done to horses? When they broke a leg? Panic was grasping at your heart and your thoughts were racing too much to allow you to think. It was no wonder the stranger caught up to you.

“Oh.” The guy said, and you looked up to meet your eyes with the ones of Xavier Thorpe. Of course. Of all shitty things. You two didn't know each other, not formally. He was in some of your classes and Enid, Yoko's best friend, knew all the juicy gossip about him.

You growled, showing a row of pointy teeth.

“Shh. I’m not going to hurt you.” Thorpe raised his hands in surrender, and slowly approached the ditch. He was very tall. That was all you could think of. One of the tallest boys in your year and now, since you were in your hound form laying on a ditch, his height made it all more intimidating. You panted, eyes going glassy with the pain and fear.

Thorpe kneeled near the edge of the ditch, lowering one of his hands for you to sniff. He was brave, you had to give him that. You struggled to scamper away from his hand, but were unsuccessful. The pain in your leg was too great. You wondered if the injury would translate to your human form as a broken wrist.

“Easy there.” His voice was low and patient, hand still extended. You gave him a careful sniff. His fear was obvious in the way his body tensed, but his hand did not twitch. He smelled like the something that made you sniff before, some sort of chemical. Paint. You gave him a careful lick. Thorpe smiled. “Good boy.”

Thorpe patted your head. “I am going to get down there with you.” He announced, and sit down with his leg hanging in the border of it. You whimpered, but made no move to attack him. Thorpe lowered himself next to you. God, the boy was foolish, getting inside an enclosed space with a hurt dog that weighted at least 120 pounds.

“Okay, I’m going to try to lift you up.” He explained, as if you could actually understand him. You flinched when he touched your back, but allowed him to do it. One of his hands touched your hurt leg, and you started whimpering in pain again, showing him your teeth. Thorpe did not freak out, raising his hands in surrender again and standing very still.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” This time, his hands went beneath you, lifting you in such a way your legs were up in the air. The human part of you fought the instinct to growl and turn, hiding your weak areas. Thorpe was forcing you to expose your tummy and neck, and you didn’t like it. “Oh, you are a girl.” He commented, while placing you carefully in terrain next to the ditch. You tried to stand and run, but were unable to put weight on your hurt paw, whining again.

“Shh…love, take it easy.” Thorpe pulled himself out of the ditch, face stained with dirt. He was trying to calm you down, but you could tell he was nervous too. Hearing you wail in pain was killing him, so you attempted to tone it down for his sake. “I… I’ll get you water and food, just wait here.”

True to his word, he gets back with water and some food. You lap gratefully at the water, watching how he cuts a steak into tiny pieces, slowly, painstakingly.

“I couldn’t get dog food, but I snuck into the kitchens for these. Google says dogs can eat meat, both raw and cooked.” He offers you a tiny piece, and you chew it greedily. You are exhausted, and shifting burns plenty of calories. So does being in pain. “God, why I am explaining this to you? I lost it, finally.” Thorpe chuckles to himself.

You push your nose against his knee. He pets your head, and you close your eyes in pleasure. Petting is something only your parents used to do for you, and here, with half of the semester already gone, something you miss.

“I wish I could do more for you.” Thorpe rubs at your ears. “I don’t know whether your paw is broken or not, or where to take you.” He falls silent after that.

You stay there for what feels like hours. He keeps patting your head softly, and you start to doze, muzzle against his thigh. The moon is high in the sky when Thorpe gets up and leaves, giving you a regretful glance. “If you come back tomorrow, I’ll be here.” He says. You stare at him. When you judge he is far enough, you transform back into human.

“Fuck.” The pain on your wrist, it has to be one of the worst things you have ever felt. Transforming back hasn’t done you any favors, but you cradle it to your chest and hurry towards your clothes. Staying out of your dorm isn’t an option tonight, Yoko must be having kittens at your lateness. You had told her you would be out only half an hour and by the position of the moon in the sky, it must be near midnight. You manage to sneak in undetected, and notice that Yoko’s light is off, since you can’t see it from the hall.

“What the hell were you thinking?” As soon as you open the door, you come face to face with your disgruntled roommate, who turns the lights on like you are the teenager just caught sneaking around in some teenage movie.

“Oh my god, you just gave me a heart attack!” You clutch at your chest.

“Oh, I did?” Yoko asks, lifting an eyebrow in a way that’s so effortlessly cool you envy her. “And how do you think I felt when you disappeared for, like, four hours and I tried calling you and your phone was here?”

“Sorry, Yoko.” You walk to your bed, hiding your wrist behind your back. “I… I ran into Bianca’s ex. I couldn’t come back sooner.”

“You smell wrong.” She answers, eyeing you up and down. “Like blood. But not bleeding.” She takes a suspicious glance at the way you are standing with your hands behind your back. “Show me your hands.” Yoko orders.

“What? Why?” You try to play it cool, like you don’t know what she is talking about. But you aren’t exactly a great actress, so it comes out far too defensive.

“Don’t play stupid. Did Xavier do something…?” Yoko pounces like a shark smelling water, already thinking on the worst-case scenario. She has a soft spot for you, so even if she is friends with him, you know Yoko would kick his ass no questions asked.

“No!” You hurry to say, and show her your wrist. Under the light of the lamp, you can tell it’s starting to bruise. “I think I broke it. He startled me and I fell into a ditch.”

“A bruise, of course.” Yoko steps forward and gently cradles your wrist between her hands, fangs popping a little. She twists it, abruptly. You yelp, but don’t pull away. It doesn’t hurt as bad as you thought. “Only sprained, don’t worry. We will put it in a brace and I bet you will be better in no time. You got better healing than baseline humans, right?”

“Just like you.” You answer and allow her to take care of you.

Your wrist takes about two weeks to heal. Time enough for the hound to get antsy under your skin. So, the first night you get the chance, you announce to Yoko you are going running and that you might be out a while.

The shift is smoother, this time. Less pain, your body remembering it has changed not so log ago, but your joints still ache. Your front leg is still a little weak, and so, you skip the running tonight, choosing to walk. For some reason, the dog’s mind is very fixated on Thorpe’s smell, and you end up following it all the way to his shed. The door is halfway open, and since the hound isn't really concerned about boundaries in the same way humans are, you push it open with your nose.

He is in front of a canvas, drawing something with harsh, angry strokes. He jumps a little with the sound of the door opening, turning towards it with the brush held out like a weapon. His eyes scan the door, and when they meet yours, he relaxes.

“Hey, girl. You look better.” Thorpe greets, setting down the brush. He steps closer to you and rubs at your ears. You understand then why the pull of the hound towards this place was so strong. Dogs are social creatures, and she often feels lonely. It's like this deadly secret only you and Yoko know separates you from other people, like some sort of Cain’s mark that doesn’t let you be really close to anyone. The hound craves interaction, and Thorpe treats you like a human, and one he cares about. The hound loves it. “Came to see me?”

You nose his thigh, sneezing a little at the smell of paint.

“Oh, you poor thing.” He steps away, and you barely can stop the whine from leaving your throat. “Here, let me open the windows.”

Thorpe busies himself setting you up with a bowl of water. He then places a blanket on the floor and offers the space to you. If you were human, you would smile at his kindness, but the only way you can show your appreciation in this form is by wagging your tail and licking excitedly at his hands. He doesn’t seem to mind, petting you absentmindedly and going back to his painting. You doze then.

You wake up when someone yelps, near you. Lost in the instincts of the dog, you bark sharply, still half asleep. You come to your senses when you see Thorpe with blood coming out of the back of his neck. You rush to his side, sniffing the canvas carefully. A monster squirms inside of it, trying to escape. You had heard about his powers, the art animation. He must have lost control in some way.

“Easy, there.” Thorpe says when the monster finally stills. “I keep dreaming about him.” He confesses, rubbing your back. You allow it because he looks shaken. It’s more for him than for you. “This monster… I think it is the one behind the attacks.”

You lick at his hand because what else can you do? You are terrified, but there is not a lot you could do in dog form about it, much less without blowing your cover of a domestic, totally normal, yet oversized dog.

It goes to hell that Monday. You are talking to Yoko, on your way to class, when a hand grasps your wrist from behind. You turn, eyes narrowed.

“I… Sorry…” Thorpe says, a blush creeping on his cheeks. His hand is still holding your arm, a grip gentle enough you could slip out of it if you wanted to. “You look familiar… Have we met?”

Yoko gives him an unimpressed look, grabbing your wrist and tugging it out of his arm. You mourn the loss of contact immediately.

“No.” Yoko answers. “My roommate and you don’t know each other.”

“Are you sure…?” Thorpe asks, looking attentively at your face. He is genuinely confused, and you panic. You need him to stop looking at you so closely, you don’t need this kind of attention. “Your eyes…”

“Those kinds of lines don’t work on me.” You laugh, airily, trying to do your best impression of a silly, flirty girl. You don’t want him thinking too much about your eyes, the same ones of the too intelligent hound he has met twice already. “I’m Y/N.”

“Xavier.” He says, caught out of guard. Xavier continues to stare at your eyes. “I feel like I have seen you before…”

“Yeah, in the like, five classes you share.” Yoko rolls her eyes and starts dragging you away. “We will be late.”

You should stop. You know it. It would be a risk, a stupid one, to keep going back to him when he is so observant. But you can’t help it. There is something about him that calls to you. The hound is obsessed with him, his smell, his gentle touch. She likes him, in a way she hasn’t taken to any other human before, except your family. You keep going to the shed and try not to feel too guilty when he talks to you and pets you, all kind words and soft touches.

“I keep seeing this girl…” He explains to you, one day, when the bags beneath his eyes are more prominent than ever. Xavier looks so tired, your heart hurts for him. You had assumed it was dreams of the monster keeping him up, but that is not it. “She… I have seen her in class. We talked the other day. She stands, naked in the forest, blood all over. But I can’t help her. When I call her name, the dream disappears.” He laughs, humorlessly. You place your paw over his leg, demanding pets. “I tried talking to her, but she thought I was flirting with her and… God, she is friends with Yoko and she is a menace. I don’t want to creep her out.” You press your paw, more insistently. Xavier smiles slightly and rubs behind your ears, just in the way you like it. You offer more of yourself to be pet.

It’s bad, then. You have gathered that Xavier’s only power isn’t just art animation, but that he is also a psychic. The only explanation you think is possible is that you get attacked by the monster, and you turn to defend yourself. Xavier doesn’t tell you if the blood that covers you is yours or is it from someone else. You can’t ask.

Living in fear isn’t a new sensation for you. You are constantly scared of your secret coming out. Living knowing danger is imminent and everything you fought so hard to keep buried is going to come up any minute, is strange. You are afraid, yes. You are also on edge. Yoko constantly sends you to run in the forest because she can’t stand you. You see more of Xavier.

One night, you find him sitting down on the floor, head buried between his knees. He smells sad. You lick at what you can reach of his face, cleaning his tears. That makes him laugh a little. He hugs you against him, burying his face in your fur, like a scared little kid. You feel a pang on your heart when you hear him breathe harshly, trying to calm down. Xavier lets out a puff of air, and you squirm.

“Fuck, sorry. You are such a good girl.” He says, scratching behind your ears. “I got bad news from home. My dad, he can be such an asshole…” And so, he tells you about his father, and you vow to keep it a secret because he doesn’t really know you understand what he is telling you.

Then, they take him in custody for the murders, and you don’t understand. You cry, and punch your pillow, and you can’t say anything because you are not certain, you weren’t exactly keeping track, but you think you can be his alibi. It would mean sacrificing everything, and it’s tearing you apart, and so, you spend many sleepless nights of your own.

It finally falls apart when Crackstone attacks the school. You don’t know it then, you will learn it later. What you do know, is that Enid is missing, and that Yoko is worried sick. She blurts out something about a secret society, torturing the barista at the Weathervane.

“I think she went after Wednesday, and she can’t wolf out yet. The others… It is a blood moon, you see. You are the only one who can turn into something heavy enough to stop the Hyde.” She pleads, grasping your hands in hers. There is a desperate look in her eyes, and you know, you know, you can’t say no. You like Enid and getting the Hyde would mean getting Xavier back. If you play your hand well enough, no one has to find out. “Go after her, Y/N, please.”

And you do. You don’t even change clothes, running out still in your boots and coat. In the woods, you find a pink werewolf holding her own pretty well against the ugliest monster you have ever seen, but Enid is taking too many hits for your liking. So, you change, and charge.

Enid wraps herself in her pink coat, but you don’t have anything to wear. Having rushed into the fight, your clothes didn’t survive. This. This was the moment Xavier dreamt about. Dread takes hold in your stomach because he will find out about everything. There is no hiding now.

You had never done what you were born to do before. The thing hellhounds were designed to do perfectly. Protect and guard. It comes easier than you expect, almost instinct. And both wolves and hounds are pack animals. It seems the instinct to take down your prey as a team is engrained on both you and Enid because you work together perfectly. The Hyde stands no chance, much less when the sheriff gets there. It turns back into Tyler and Enid, and you walk out of the fight with minor injuries.

“Oh my god, you were totally badass!” Enid says, talking a mile per minute. “At first you scared me, but you are so impressive! I can’t believe it! What are you?”

“Enid, I am cold.” You hug yourself, covered in blood from head to toe. You are evading her question, and it shows. “You were pretty cool too. Congrats on wolfing out.”

You look at the sheriff, who is trying to wrangle a disgruntled Tyler into a patrol car.

“Thank you!” She beams. “I could go get you some clothes?”

“It’s okay, just, let’s get out of here.”

Enid leads you out of the forest. When she steps outside, covered in blood, Ajax is immediately there to meet her.

“Enid!” He screams and throws an arm over her shoulders. Enid looks about to cry. He is trying to lead her away, but Enid turns, eyes meeting with yours. Someone else must follow her gaze because the whispers start then. It feels like the whole Nevermore population is here, standing and gawking at you.

“Is she…?”

“…Must be the monster, fucking weirdo…”

“No way, Y/N…. Maybe the monster took her…”

Painfully aware of your nakedness, you try to cover yourself, eyes lowering to the ground. You fold and sticky with blood, it is quickly drying over your naked body, you need a shower like yesterday. Your feet are sore from all the sticks and gravel you have stepped into, completely barefoot, but worst of all is the feeling of how all your secrets are bare for the world to see. Finally, time to face the music. Someone wolf whistles, and you sink more on yourself. A hoodie gets draped over your shoulders, and you quickly shrug it on. Ajax. He steps between you and the multitude, shielding you with his body.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” He asks, gently touching your shoulder. Meanwhile, Enid is angrily telling off everyone who tries to approach you, loudly retelling how you turned into a giant dog and helped her take down the Hyde.

“She saved my life! And I won’t have you laughing at her or saying she is a monster!” But still, someone slips under her watch. Yoko. Yoko runs at you and hugs you so hard you can feel your ribs protesting.

“You are alive… You are alive…” She sobs, hiding her face on the crook of your neck, uncaring about the blood. “I should have never asked that of you! I thought Enid was going to die, but then I thought you were going to die and…” You hug her back, gently running your fingers over her hair.

“It’s over. It’s over. I’m fine.” You say to her, but your voice is breaking too. Everyone is muttering about what you are, really. A hellhound. And then there is Xavier and Wednesday and Bianca, coming out of the school, bruised and battered. The moment your eyes lock with his, you know he knows. His expression changes, pale as if he has seen a ghost, eyes wide. Then, it comes the anger.

“Your eyes… I know those eyes.” Xavier whispers. He is so far from you, you shouldn’t be able to hear it, yet you do. It is the only thing you can hear, the betrayal in his voice, and you fight to reach him. Yoko gives you an odd look, but you shrug her off.

He grabs your arm, and this time his grip is bruising. The betrayal has turned into anger.

“Xavier…” You approach him, still dripping in blood, still naked under Ajax’s hoodie. Xavier looks you up and down, and his mouth purses in distaste. It hurts, it hurts worse than having your secret outed to like half the school. He was your friend, he was kind to you and you were a coward. That’s the truth. “I am sorry.”

“We are not talking here.” Xavier half drags you, half pulls you into the forest. You don’t resist. It hurts your feet, you are cold and uncomfortable, but it feels like a fitting punishment. You can’t keep up with his pace, his legs much longer and with the advantage of actual shoes. You stumble, but he doesn’t stop.

“What do you think you are doing?” Yoko screams, but Xavier ignores her. She runs after you, grabbing at his hoodie. “Stop it, right this second. You are hurting her.”

“None of your business, Yoko.” Xavier barks, pulling at your arm once again.

“You okay?” She asks you, stepping in front of Xavier and blocking his path. “Want me to get you away from here?”

You look at Xavier. At the way his brows are furrowed, at the hold he has on your arm, going laxer by the minute. If you say the word, Yoko would kick his ass, and remove you from the situation. But you think, if you don’t at least try to apologize, you might lose him forever.

“I’m fine. He just wants to talk. Nothing to worry about.” Your best attempt at an encouraging smile is cut short by the tug Xavier gives at your arm. You grimace. This wasn’t going to be an easy conversation.

“If he tries anything, you transform and attack him. Promise me!” Yoko eyes Xavier distrustingly. Xavier turns at that, looking at her in disdain.

“Oh, so you knew too.” Xavier smiles, a sharp, ugly thing. Then, he leans down and whispers in your ear. “Did you have fun, telling your girlfriend all my secrets and laughing at how much of a loser you think I am?” He lets go of your arm in favor of grasping at your shoulders, harshly. “I hope you did, really. I hope you enjoyed making me a fool because I will make your life hell.”

“Xavier, please…” You beg him. “Listen to me, I didn't mean to hurt you…”

“Know what?” Yoko asks, confused.

“That she is a shape-shifter and has been pretending to be a dog and hanging around me, like a pet desperate for attention!” He accuses and Yoko’s face falls. You flinch.

“Y/N is not a shape-shifter.” Yoko states, and you admire the way she has your back, so unconditional. You know she has questions, and she will ask them later, but in front of Xavier, she will take your side. “She is a Hellhound. Surely, you understand…”

“Oh, no, please, enlighten me.” Xavier mocks Yoko. She just pinches the bridge of her nose, looking back at the path she came from. No one is near, but with the way Xavier is screaming, you might have visitors soon. “I hope you enjoyed playing the good, obedient pet. It suits you well, being a hellhound.” He comes closer, towering over you. “You are nothing more than a self-absorbed bitch.”

“Xavier, I… wanted to be your alibi, I really did, but if I…” You plead, grabbing his hands in yours. He pulls away with an abrupt movement, and laughs. It’s a nasty sound. You hate how his face turns, from anger to absolute fury.

“You think that is what this is about?” Xavier rolls his eyes. “Oh, you are delusional. This is about the fact I poured my heart out to you, believing you weren’t a person.”

“And I never said a word.” You lift your hands, palms facing him. You hope he will calm down. “I am sorry. I just… I just wanted a friend.” And it’s true. You had felt so lonely and when Xavier cared for you, talking to you like you were human, it had made you melt. You desperately wanted him to forgive you, to keep providing you the safe place you needed.

“That’s not how friendship works, you asshole! You know all my secrets, and I know nothing about you.” Xavier crosses his arms over his chest. Then, cruelty glints in his eyes, and you know what he says next is going to hurt you. “Actually, yes, I do know something. You are a pathetic, desperate for attention, bitch. Don’t talk to me again, or you will regret it!” And he leaves the clearing, bumping his shoulder against yours hard enough to make you stumble.

Yoko stares, mouth hanging open. She places a hesitant hand on your shoulder and you start crying.

After that, Xavier takes every opportunity to make his distaste for you known. He glares daggers at you every time you are near each other, muttering sarcastic remarks under his breath. He is petty, you have to give him that. But thanks to the gods, the semester ends early, so you only have to put up with a day of that treatment.

Summer break gives you time to think, and so, you come to terms with all of Nevermore knowing your secret and losing Xavier’s friendship. Or, well, whatever it was. He was right about it, it wasn’t a proper friendship, and you had fucked up. You would feel pretty violated too if someone tricked you like that. You vowed to never approach him again because you had tried to make amends, but he had made his wishes perfectly clear.

At least, now that everyone knows, you can spend more time as a hound, and it proves a safe heaven against your more intrusive thoughts. It’s different in Nevermore, of course. The first day, you were met by stares, but Enid had chosen to take you under his wing, glaring at everyone who dared make a comment. That had started a new tradition, your quiet lunches with Yoko, Enid, and Wednesday. Both Yoko and Enid were chatterboxes, but Wednesday and you both preferred the silence. Since you spent so much time together now, you had instilled that lunches would be quiet, since they got the rest of the day to talk and chat as much as they wanted.

Quiet lunches, unfortunately, had uninvited guests every so often. And the guests didn’t respect the rules at all. Ajax. Ajax was the guest, and you could see him and Enid giggling over something or other every day, while Wednesday stared daggers at them.

“Love.” She stage whispered to you often. “Is a sickness.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” And you went back to your comfortable silence. But this left Yoko, bored out of his mind. Enid must have mentioned it to Ajax because he took it upon himself to resolve the problem. By bringing Xavier. To lunch. With you.

When you see him, you tense on your seat. He is walking after Ajax, jaw clenched. His lips are moving, probably in a protest, but you can’t hear what he says even with your enhanced senses because your blood is pumping loudly in your ears. You feel this weird impulse to run away, run from him. He had scared you, back in the forest, that night. But you won’t give him the satisfaction of it. You realize, you hate him a little, too. The things he had said to you, the way he had grasped at your arms… Xavier had lashed out, and you deserved it, but it had hurt.

The loud clang of a tray against the table makes you jump. Xavier has sat down nest to Yoko, with a sullen expression. To Yoko, he is still persona non grata, even knowing the whole story.

“So, Yoko, how was your day?” If you have to suffer through this awkward lunch, you at least will make sure Yoko isn’t the one paying for your mistakes.

“Oh, so you talk too?” Xavier asks, under his breath. “I thought you just wagged your tail.”

Yoko tenses up, ready to tear him a new one, but you place your hand on hers, squeezing. She is not fighting your battles for you, not again. Ajax and Enid are too absorbed into themselves to care, and Wednesday looks vaguely amused.

“Oh, I talk. Loads.” You answer him, clutching dangerously at your knife. He can be angry at you, hate you even, but this is taking it a bit far. The silent treatment might be best.

“Funny, I thought I was here because you didn’t.” Xavier smirks, leaning forward. You keep quiet because he has you. You can’t exactly contradict him, and so, you sink into silence once more. Yoko glares at him. You don’t finish your lunch and go back to your dorm. But the next day, he is there. Again. He has found a way of torturing you, a weakness he can exploit, and he is not letting go because he is petty and has been waiting for his revenge.

You skip lunch that day too. Soon, Yoko starts skipping with you, and it ends up becoming a not so quiet lunch hour since you start to get lunch together. But you don't forget. Neither does he.

Xavier enjoys torturing you in little ways. The invasion of his privacy from last semester has left him shaken. He doesn't like how you now have the upper hand all the time, what you know about his powers, his father, his mental health. He has discussed it with his therapist, he knows his fixation in you is excessive. The therapist seems to think it is a simple crush, but he knows it's not that. He hates you.

He spends more of his day than he would like to admit staring at you, and more of his nights dreaming of you. Because the dreams, they don't just go away after discovering who you are. And they are weird dreams too, Xavier can't tell if they are visions or the product of an overactive imagination. In some, he is running his hands gently through your fur. In others, he holds your hand. And in one he thinks is the worst one to date, you are on your knees, naked, a collar and a leash around your pretty neck.

Suddenly, you are everywhere. At every class, laughing in the lunch tables, in Jericho, in the coffee shop, running in the woods. Now that he is looking, he knows your presence is on everything that surrounds him. Even if you are not physically there. You haunt him. Every dog he sees, no matter how small or different colored, reminds him of you. He can't sit down to lunch with Ajax and Enid without remembering your furious expression. He can't paint without thinking of the time you spent with him there, in the shed, offering the balm of your company and affection on his wounds.

Xavier shouldn't be thinking this way of the girl he hates. He should not. Because he hates you. It's not a crush. It can't be. You are not supposed to get crushes on the girls that abuse your trust. This can never go anywhere and so, he stamps down his ideas and stupid obsessions behind a wall of pure, unadulterated hate. This is easier, this is safer. No matter if he has spent a whole hour staring at how the light hits your face when you take the seat window instead of Yoko. No matter if he likes the way you throw your head back when you laugh. No matter how soft your fur feels between his fingers and wonders if your hair would feel as soft. No matter he knows you can be nice too. No matter if he is obsessed with you.

Dog jokes. That is what it comes down to, in the end. A new, funny kind of torture that has the added advantage of making you flinch every time you see Xavier, but doesn't leave him feeling as guilty as calling you names. Or as guilty as he felt when he saw you crying after that stupid fight.

“So, I was thinking, for the group project we could…” You looked at Ajax. He wasn’t paying attention, too busy staring at Enid, who Wednesday had claimed as her partner. Yoko wasn’t in this class with you, and so, the teacher had put you as the third to Xavier and Ajax.

“Poor thing, you are barking at the wrong tree.” Xavier snickered. You ignored him, as always. You had learned this was the best way to deal with him. Ignore his taunts, and he would get tired of it. Lately, he had gotten nastier, intent on not letting anyone forget you could turn into a hound. It drove you up the walls. You were mistaken, yes, but was this necessary?

“Oh, come on, stop hounding him.” Xavier smirked. “Don’t you see he is in love?”

“Guys, please. Can we focus? We have to submit a proposal before the class is finished.” You begged, tugging at Ajax’s arm. Your patience was running thin, you would not fail botany just because you got assigned to work with these two.

You lost it, then. You snarled at him, much like a dog would do, showing your teeth. Xavier frowned, pulling his chair a little away from the table with a loud, rasping noise.

“Guys…” Ajax said, finally out of his daze. You ignored him.

“What is your problem with me?” Nothing else was needed. You were up and in Xavier’s face in less than a second. He just stared at you, unimpressed. He remained sitting, legs spread in a confident sprawl that made you want to strangle him.

“Stop it!” The teacher warned. But you were unable to look away from Xavier’s eyes, and he seemed to be in the same situation, staring up at you with such intensity, that if looks could kill, you would be already dead.

“Oh, you know exactly what…” He started saying, and you wanted to scream. You fucked up, you knew it, but surely, your patience with him all this time, not reacting to his taunts, it must qualify you for sanctity already.

“Cut the bullshit, Thorpe. Don’t you think it is enough? I apologized. You asked me to leave you alone, and I did. “ You point a finger at his chest, this time, getting so close your noses touch. Xavier seems stunned, mouth hanging open. “You are the one who keeps looking for me, circling me, you… You are the one who is obsessed with me!”

Xavier grabs your hand and forces you to lower it. His grip is loose, but the threat is there,

“Guys, the teacher…” Ajax says, nervously.

“Don’t. Don’t.” He pulls you in, legs spreading to accommodate you. Even sitting down, the height difference is notorious. You hate yourself for finding him attractive, even then. You know he is capable of being gentle, and he is handsome, even if not in a classical way. Xavier has always had something that pulls you in, and you are unable to resist, like a moth to a flame. “No, you don’t get to do this. Not when you keep smiling and laughing and looking…”

“Y/L/N! Thorpe!” The teacher finally screams. “Out! Out, or I will send you both to the principal’s office!”

At that, you pick up your bag and storm out of the room, face so red you look like a tomato. You aren’t ashamed of your fit of temper because you are so angry you can’t think straight. You wait for him to come out, and when he does, bag slung over his shoulder, you ambush him. This time, you are the one who grabs Xavier’s wrists and start dragging him out of the building.

“We.” You say, pulling with all your might when he digs his feet in. "Are going to have a talk. I am done with putting up with your tantrum.”

“I don’t want to talk to you.” Xavier turns his head away, avoiding your eyes. But he lets you pull him out of the school and into the forest, following the familiar path to his shed.

“Oh, really? Because if you refuse, I will just assume you are obsessed with me.” You taunt, smirking. It’s good to be the one with the upper hand for once. Xavier blushes.

“So what if I am?” He asks, crowding you, struck with a sudden bout of bravery. You step back, until your shoulders hit a tree. Xavier doesn’t stop crowding you, even when your hands come desperate to his chest, trying to put distance between the two. You can’t think straight, with him so close, and you think it must show because he leans down to whisper in your ears. “What if I am? What if I can’t stop thinking about you, dreaming about you? Wondering how your hands would feel on mine, how would you look down on your knees, in my arms? What are you going to do about it?”

“What if I told you…?” You start and promptly shut up. Thing is, you don’t have the words, you don’t know what to say. Having him so close, smelling his cologne, feeling the way his chest rises and down with each breath, your brain is in overdrive. And so, frustrated because you can’t find your words, you do what you do best. Act.

The kiss you press to his lips is desperate, more a siege than a kiss. It’s not gentle or romantic, you bite at his lips in hopes they will bruise, he grabs your jaw so hard it might be hurting you. You are both frustrated, filled with months worth of longing and rage against the other. Wetness pools on your underwear, and you scoff into the kiss. You are totally not getting your panties wet just because Xavier Thorpe is kissing you.

“You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to…” Xavier kisses your cheek, hands softer this time. “But…”

“You want to have your way with me?” You tease him. “Doggy style?” That startles a laugh out of him.

“Oh, god, that was terrible.” He gets busy sucking a hickey on your neck.

“You got weeks of dog jokes to make up for.” The phrase ends up melting into a moan because Xavier is excellent with his tongue.

“And you got weeks of looking beautiful to make up for.” His kisses make a path from your collarbone, back to your lips. Xavier kisses you again, slower this time. When you part, his pupils are blown. He is the one who looks more like a puppy, big green eyes peering at you. “Say yes, say yes. And if you do, know you won’t be going back to your dorm until tomorrow. Very late tomorrow.” He begs.

You jump him, then. Literally. It takes quite a bit of strength, to be able to just jump and wrap your thighs around his waist, squeezing just right, so you don’t fall off. Xavier staggers, but quickly places his hands under your thighs.

“That was so hot.” He mutters, nibbling at your ear. “Come on, to the shed.”

Turns out, he does want to fuck you from behind. And for someone who hates the fact you can turn into a hellhound, Xavier is pretty obsessed with it.

“Come on, hands and knees, just how pretty pets do it.” Xavier and you are both kneeling over a sheet on the floor in his shed, stained with paint. He had made already a pretty compelling case for you to forgive him, pressing kisses to your legs and thighs until you were begging him to put his mouth on you. Xavier had done as asked, bringing you to orgasm quickly. Then, he had risen from the floor, face glistening with your juices, and pulled you in for a dirty kiss.

You laugh, before realizing he is completely serious. Then, you can only gawk. He pushes you a little, hardness pressing against the small of your back. You are naked, floor hard against your already hurting knees from him eating you out, but you let him position you as he wishes. Xavier forces you to spread your legs and lines up, rubbing his tip at your entrance. He feels hot against your already clammy skin. You wonder how many times has he done this, and if he has a thing for being naked on his shed, or if the excitement is about you.

Xavier rubs his tip teasingly against your folds. It feels way too good on your already sensitive cunt, and if how he is whimpering is an indicator, it feels good for him too. You aren’t really in the mood to be patient, so you do your best to push backwards. You quickly find out that with him over you, Xavier has all the leverage and you got none.

“Oh, are you feeling neglected, pet?” He mocks you, one hand coming to grab at your hair, forcing you to throw your head back. You moan at that, eyes closing in pleasure. This is unexpected, but so very welcome.

“Next time, I will end you.” You threaten him, in a play for dominance you really don't mean. Xavier has already gone to his knees for you, you could let him have a bit of fun. “You will be crying by the time I am done with you.”

Rather than answering, Xavier’s hips do a smooth flex and roll, and he breaches your entrance. You can feel his smugness without needing to look at him, and you bet he looks ridiculously pretty, confidence glowing in an already handsome face. You can’t have that, so you clench around him.

“Are you going to fuck me or not?” You ask him, and Xavier trusts into you, harsh. It seems he is still frustrated. Your laughter quickly turns into moans. He is fucking you in an animalistic way, one hand wrapped firmly around your middle to prevent you from getting thrown away across the room. It’s good, great, even. His thrusts are hitting your walls just right, and you are so wet, you fear your slick is dripping down your thighs.

“Xavier, Xavier…” One of your hands comes to clench around his hip, blindly. You fear you will lose your balance and end up with a broken nose. He is holding you, but your knees are already sore and the way Xavier is punching the air out of your lungs is not helping. “Slow down. I’m gonna fall down on my face.”

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” Xavier gasps, face coming to rest against your shoulder, pressing apologetic kisses there. Still, the sharp staccato of his hips continues. “Let me take care of you, pet.” At that, you moan, and you feel his mouth curve into a smile. Xavier presses into your shoulders, convincing you to lay down. You help him, extending your sore legs, until you are face down on the sheet. “Here, here, that's my good girl.” He then lies on top of you, holding you down and pressing kisses against your nape.

Xavier resumes the thrusting after that, and your breath starts coming in punched up little sobs. It’s too much. The way his hands run up and down your side, how he calls you a good pet, a good girl, praise freely leaving his lips, how he holds you so gentle. Your body can’t take the abuse he is inflicting on your walls, nor the way he then drops a hand between you two, over where you are joined, and whispers the filthiest thing you had ever heard him say, pressing his thumb against your other hole.

“You know, maybe I’ll buy you a tail, since you are such a good pet. “ His thumbs threatens to enter your ass, holds you open, never breaching. You hadn’t considered anal sex before, much less double penetration, but you can’t get the picture he paints out of your head. “Such a good pet, love. You are gorgeous.” It’s over for you, then. You scream, clenching and fluttering under him. Xavier fucks you through it, chasing his own pleasure. It doesn’t take long for him, either. He shudders and just collapses over you, crushing you.

“Fuck.” Your eyes close. You bet if you tried to stand, your legs would be shaking, and you don't want to give him the satisfaction, so you remain on the floor. “We need to do that again.” It's hesitant, but you need to say it. You like him, and if you can actually communicate for a chance, this could be great.

“I’m not sure…” Xavier teases, running a hand over your ribs. But the way he kisses your forehead tells you all you need to know.

“Maybe you can get me a collar?” You tease right back and he groans.

“You will be the death of me, you know it, right?” Xavier says, biting playfully at your nape.

“Oh, but what a way to go.” You laugh, and then fall silent as he rolls off you and cuddles by your side. The silence stretches, Xavier’s fingers drawing patterns over your hips, and then, the intrusive thoughts win the battle. “You know, you are pretty dumb. I look nothing like a dog, way too big, and I got peaks on my hair. Also, my jaw goes way back. “

You snort in response and snuggle closer.

“Oh, shut up, it was dark, and I was under a lot of stress.”

#my writing #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #ajax petropolus #wednesday addams #yoko tanaka #enid sinclair #xavier thorpe x fem!reader #xavier thorpe smut #xavier x you #xavier smut #xavier thorpe x y/n #xavier x y/n #xavier thrope imagine #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe x you #xavier thorpe x fem reader

[monster-slxt]

The bet was to spend the full moon alone in the mountains. No problem camping is great. You have some books, a phone, plenty of food. What was that howling? Are your friends pranking you or something?

anon I spent so long trying to answer this lmao, tumblr mobile is being a huge bitch and deleted it three times

Easy money, right? Like, the biggest thing around here are coyotes and you love camping. So long as you tie up your food properly you'll be fine.

The day is easy enough. You set up camp and go for a hike, settling in with a campfire and marshmallows at sunset. 

The first howl starts up just as the sun fully disappears.

And it's unnerving. Louder and deeper and more intense than any dogs howl. You rationalize it away as your friends playing tricks with a loudspeaker, but you still call it a night when more voices take up the howl. 

Admittedly, the woods are a lot more creepy at night. You toss and turn for a good while as the howling seems to get closer and closer. Wolves don't attack people, you tell yourself, and you tied everything up properly, so you should be safe. Until eventually, the howling just stops. 

You fall asleep in the silence.

You jolt awake to the sound of your tent being torn to shreds. It's pitch black and you have no idea what's happening, but the growling gives you a clue. Before you can react, grab a flashlight or something, a strong clawed hand grabs you and pulls you from the flimsy safety of the tent.

The full moon lets you see your assailants, but you almost wish you hadn't. Three towering beasts, covered in fur with big sharp teeth and long sharp claws- you don't even notice their huge cocks, far too worried about getting eaten.

Their true intentions are revealed when the main one starts ripping at your flimsy pajamas. Hole exposed, the werewolf doesn't give you any time to react before they’re stuffing you full of their thick tongue, getting you loose and wet for their cock. It feels so good, and reaches places that make you see stars. Your moaning and begging in no time and one of the other werewolves shuts you up by forcing their cock down your throat. 

Eventually, the one between your legs decides your ready, and you'd whimper at the loss of contact as they get lined up to fuck you if you weren't so focused on not choking around the knot being forced into your mouth. You do, however, give a garbled scream at the stretch as the werewolf immediately bottoms out inside you. With no time to adjust, they set a brutal pace, pounding your poor hole with animalistic abandon. 

You've lost track of how many times you've cum by the time the first knot is worked into your hole, completely blissed out on pleasure as the werewolf fills you with cum. They don't wait for their knot to fully deflate, just ripping it out of you so the eager third wolf can have a go with your warm hole. 

And that's how it goes the whole night. They keep fucking you until the morning, leaving right before the moon sets, leaving you passed out covered in cum. You don't tell your friends about what happened, and they seem a little disappointed at your "uneventful" night. You offer to try again next full moon just a little too quickly

#asks #tetro #monster smut #monsterfucking #werewold #queer nsft #dubcon

[toxicanonymity]

i see youve been reposting a lot of ezra content, will we be getting a dark ezra fic soon?? 🫣

850 / dark!Ezra x f!reader / part 1 here. 

Thank you @ezras--moon for the inspiration 💚 WARNINGS: dubcon somnophilia (but they both want it), unsafe P in V, jacking off, manipulative reader, creepy!ezra. LMK if i missed any.

💚💚💚💚💚

There's something different in the way Ezra looks at you over breakfast. There's a sparkle in his eyes.  "How did you find your rest?"

"Not that good."

"Sorry to hear.  But with any luck, we should have a bed soon." You dwell on the singular word choice. He continues, "Now that we’re within walkin' range of the other group, I'll approach today and see if their ship can spare any space." 

You ask, "Can I come?”

“Best if I go alone this time. Have any dreams last night in that pretty head of yours?" 

"No. I don't think so. I barely slept."

"Sounded like you were dreamin'." 

"What did it sound like?" 

"Sounded like you were enjoyin’ yourself." 

You pretend to be flustered. 

"It's okay," he smirks.  "Better than a nightmare, isn't it?" 

-

Later that day, Ezra returns from a trek and tells you, "I found a ship that will take us.”

Your face lights up. “Oh, that’s great.”  

Ezra continues, “One of the crew members fell victim to a damaged air filter today while he was alone" 

Your face falls.  "That's awful," you say.  And a little too convenient. 

"We leave tomorrow." 

-

That night, you do the same thing, pretending to be asleep. You're lying on your stomach in your sleeping bag.   

Ezra is sitting in the camp chair breathing heavily. His soft grunts and skin-on-skin are loud in your ears. You squeeze your thighs together at the sound of his voice.

"Mmm," you sigh. "Take me, Ezra." 

"Ohhh," he sighs. 

"Take me now," you whisper, eyes still shut, breathing regulated. "Mmmm."

"Oh my Lord," Ezra whispers as he strokes himself. 

"Ohh," you sigh. "Take me in my sleep." 

"Oh shit," he breathes. His hand slows. "You mean that?"

"Mmm yeah," you whisper. 

"Oh shit," he exhales. "Ohh, shit," he says shakily.  He pants heavily. 

"Please," you beg with your eyes closed. "Need it," you whisper.

"Ohh, lord," he strokes himself again, panting harder.  

"Need your big cock"

"Ohhh, fuuuck," he exhales.  He stops stroking himself entirely, then approaches your sleeping bag."Oh, fuck," he repeats. "Oh, fuck. . . Can't stop this," he whispers. "Oh, god." 

He carefully unzips the sleeping bag then murmurs, "You want this," as he pulls down your shorts. You stir but don't appear to wake up. He wedges a finger between your legs and feels how wet you are. "Ohh, shit," he laments, unable to stop what he's about to do. He begins to breathe more quickly. His movements become more urgent. 

"Mmm," you say. 

He nudges your legs apart, aligns himself, then whispers in your ear. "You want this bad."

"Mmmm," you sigh in affirmation. 

"As you wish," he whispers.  He notches the head of his cock at your wet, wet entrance. "Ohh, lord." He hesitates for a moment, feeling your body try to suck him in. 

"Yeahh," you sigh sleepily. 

“Ohhhh.” He begins to push his huge tip inside you with a shaky moan. 

You moan in return. "Oh, Ezra." 

"Ohh Lord," his deep voice whines shakily. He pushes further and you moan again at the stretch of his girth. 

"Ohh, yeah," you sigh as he buries more of himself inside you. 

"Ohhhh," he sighs, pausing almost fully inside you as your body adjusts to the intrusion. You're so full of him. "You want this," he reassures himself once again. "You want it bad," he whispers shakily. He retreats an inch or two then shoves all of himself into you, bottoming out with a shudder. "Ahh, fuck." 

"Yeah," you whisper, eyes still closed. "Just like that." He backs up, then smoothly but decisively pushes into you with a grunt. 

"Mmmm," you sigh. 

He buries his length in you again and again, filling you to the brim each time, grunting.   You push your ass back into him, meeting his thrusts with soft grunts of your own.  You clench your thighs and squeeze cunt around his cock and sigh, "ohhh.”

"Yeah, you love this," he whispers. "Yeah, you do."  His breath becomes more ragged and he begins to moan and grunt less restrained, but his voice is still low and breathy.   Your lower belly is a well of tension. If you can feel him come, you’ll come, too. 

"Fill me up," you whisper. It brings him all the way to the brink of his peak, but he won't do it.  If he doesn't come, the only evidence will be your soreness, which you could try to explain away. 

"Ohh," you sigh. "Mmm." 

He pulls out of you and rolls out of your bag, onto his back on the ground. He pants quickly and heavily, then sighs, "Ohhh, god," as he erupts in his hand. He doesn't lie there long. He gets up and rinses his hand with water then dries it off on his own pants. 

-

He sits back in the camp chair, legs spread, chest heaving.  His brow furrows and he covers his mouth as he considers what he just did. He shakes his head and prays for forgiveness as he watches you sleep.  You had a need.  He provided.  He tells himself over and over.  While he’s torturing himself, you squeeze your thighs together and silently finish yourself off.  

Tags: @littlegreendove @sp00kymulderr @bearsbeetsbeskar @ezras--moon @kyloispunk

#ezra prospect #ezra prospect x reader #ezra x reader #pedro pascal characters #toxicanonymity ☠️ #tw: dubcon #tw: noncon #ezra☠️ #dark!ezra #dark!ezra prospect #pedro pascal smut #PPCU jacks off #PPCU jacks off ☠️ #someone jacks off

[meowcatsposts]

Better [Werewolf bf]

╰► warning: mentions of stalking and kidnapping

Overview

You get kidnapped by a werewolf, basically

(But don't worry, he has your best interests at heart)

“You deserve better,” he murmured, rough voice raspy from the lack of use. His copper eyes bore into yours, so icily striking yet fiery warm. “You really do.”

Argos was his name, you learned–the hound-human who captured you. He had an unruly and dark but smooth mane for hair, and his complexion was rather pale, like white lilies under waning moonlight. Ropes of lean muscle undulated beneath his milky skin as he scrounged for something in a heap of bones. He kept his “treasures” hidden there.

From the ghoulish pile he produced yet another skull–a dog skull. Hollowed dead eyes stared back at you as he put the piece of bone in front of your eyes, and you suppressed a small scream. Were you going to end up like this?

“You’re scared,” Argos said, dark eyebrows drawing together. “I didn’t mean to do that…” 

He paused to look you in the eyes once more, as if checking a wounded bird. Then he continued–after encapsulating your hand in his larger, rougher one. They were warm, like a hot cup of tea.

“This could have been me, a long time ago,” Argos trailed, rotating the dog skull and tilting his head to see its void eyes, too. “Neglected, starved, dead…” He set the skull down with a soft clunk. “I’ve watched you, and I see it in you, too. The people around you don’t see your worth, do they? They treat you like vermin, from what I see–something to never befriend, something to never worship.” Suddenly his eyes burned dark, a moon in a solar eclipse. A guttural growl escaped his parted lips. “And I’ve seen you cry by yourself…with no one to cry on…”

Then, gazing into your eyes like a pet who lovingly sidles up to its owner, he asked, “Was it lonely?”

You hadn’t noticed the hot tears searing your eyelids nor the blurred Argos in front of you, who held both of your hands in both of his. It was so unnerving and creepy and freaky that a hound-human like him stalked you, but at the same time it was so fuzzy and gentle and warm that it made your heart clench. Oh, how you wished for a genuine connection–a connection of trust and love and nothing else. But alas, thick ropes of human connections strangle you, leaving you breathless and choking, raw and bruised. 

Did Argos understand? Perhaps he did, because with a small smile he wiped your tears away with his thumb, murmuring soft ‘it’s ok’ s, or ‘I’ll be with you now’ s. 

“Yeah…it was lonely,” you croaked. “How do you know?”

Argos said nothing, just held you close. 

You had just returned from a hangout, rather large, consisting of several friends. A part of you was happy you went, but another whole was glad to be far, far away from that suffocating setting. Sure, everyone was cordial and bubbly and kind, but they knew each other more than you did. So you were left to drift by yourself most of the time, left to gaze upon tightly-knit trios and duos who were talking and smiling. One, as a joke, called you something foul–but apologized later on for potentially hurting your feelings. 

Minutes dragged into hours, and you soon grew exhausted by the continuous chatter that you couldn’t keep up with–or really be a part of. It was an odd number of people anyway, you told yourself. It’d be natural for someone like yourself to be floating. So you excused yourself, before you grew too sick. (Not like the others really cared, right, though they waved and said cheery ‘bye!’ s to you.)

Currently in the shower, fresh tears streamed down your wet cheeks. Why were you crying, again? Was it relief? Was it hurt? What was it, anyway?

All you knew, though, was that it felt good to cry.

Argos heard your soft sobs and whimpers bounce off the ambient shower walls. 

Every. 

Single. 

One. 

Heck, he even heard you blow your nose every so often, probably because you were crying so much. His sharp ears flattened on his head and he prowled around in endless circles, large paws making no sound on the prickly grass. His tail dangled limply and his thick fur bristled against the chilly fall breeze. 

Why did your outing have to turn so bitter? he wondered. Why did you always have to end up like this?

Argos saw how bright your hopeful eyes looked, only for it to drain drain drain away until your once beautiful eyes turned nearly dull. It reminded him of when he was infested by maggots–lying limply on cold stone, life slowly draining from his eyes. It took all of his resolve not to whisk you right away, into his humble little shack. At least he could provide you with warmth there. He would protect you–love you–unlike those unappreciative posers. There were too many of that kind, he thought bitterly.

Argos gazed blankly at the dimly lit road. It was good that it was dark; he melted into the shadows. No one to see him. No one to hear him.

“Argos, do you think I’m selfish?” you asked the now-hound male, whose large head was on your lap. Argos rumbled his throat as if to say, ‘No, you are not.’

Your fingers glided through his dense, black fur. It had been quite a while now, since he claimed you as his. Perhaps it’d been a few months now, maybe more. And your former home? Argos told you not to worry about it–apparently it’d been taken care of. How, though, you didn’t know. 

Argos treated you quite well; you were his royalty, after all. He fed you your favorite meals and snacks, gave you space (to some extent–you couldn’t leave the premises), and drowned you in his affections. When he was a wolf he licked and nipped gently at your skin, and provided you with his fur to play with. When he was human he embraced you and napped with you, and loved to kiss you–sometimes on the forehead, sometimes on the lips, but mostly on the neck, right where your heartbeat was. His kisses were usually light and sweet, a stark contrast to his brooding eyes and glacial complexion.

“Mmh, Argos,” you mumbled, resting your hands on his lean pale arms. 

Argos, on the other hand, was resting his hands on your hips, caging you between his body and a wall. His lips trailed up and down your neck, peppering it with sweet kisses. His copper eyes smoldered with heat, and his body was no different; you thought you would burn under his touch. You knew you couldn’t escape, either, since he was so big; he made you feel so small, somehow, like prey caught by a predator.

“You’re not telling me to stop, are you?” Argos stated; the way his voice lowered by octaves, clearly, it wasn’t a question.

As your breath hitched in your throat, he chuckled, eyes fluttering up to meet yours. They really looked like melted copper now, dissolved by his primal instincts–to press you into the wall…pin your wrists above your head…ravage you until dawn. But somehow, he managed to push them back to the depths of his hungry core, sticking to pressing soft kisses all over your exposed skin.

Feeling a little awkward just standing there, you slipped your fingers through his dark hair and played with the thick strands and massaged his scalp. Argos groaned faintly, just under his breath; you felt it on your skin–hot and needy. 

Getting a surge of confidence you murmured in his ear, “Do you like it?”

Argos just pressed you harder against the hard wooden walls, eliciting a cute squeak from you. (He made sure not to hurt you, though, because he knew just how easily you’d break.) It wasn’t the first time he tossed you around like a ragdoll. He loved how your eyes widened with fear, how your lips parted, how your breath became ragged and uneven; it made his blood burn with adrenaline. 

“I do,” Argos replied gruffly, “but let’s not forget about who’s pinned against the wall, now…”

Sometimes, you hated the man for his cockiness; it dripped off of him like a pungent perfume. 

But he was all you could ever ask for…

So why not stay with him?

yellow dividers from: firefly-graphics

#werewolf #werewolf x reader #monster x reader #monster #werewolf boyfriend

[orderforbrian]

Day 3 - Victorian Times/Confession for @jonmartinweek!

late but better than never lol, im not used to drawing so much! i ended up with bad wrist pain and couldn't finish this last night

anyway thought of a gothic horror victorian au - jon is the newly appointed housekeeper for the Magnus estate (succeeding the late gertrude who died under mysterious circumstances, so he's not entirely qualified to be organizing the estate's finances and directing staff but alas here we are). martin is newly hired gardener who tracks mud into the freshly cleaned house on his first day 😬 but when he's not ruining the estate, jon finds him oddly charming - and when he's not getting yelled at, martin finds the housekeeper is far nicer than he's letting on 🤭 cue the loathing at turning into pining from afar, brushing hands, and then touching without gloves on??!! also them on a gender journey together is so important to me

romance aside (lol) it would be kind of a mix of Haunting of Bly Manor meets Dracula meets Crimson Peak in terms of horror - i think it'd be fun to translate TMA into a victorian estate (like how it's kind of creepy that no one has ever met Magnus himself huh 👀)

[Start ID: Three drawings of Jon and Martin from The Magnus Archives in an AU set in Victorian England. Jon is a thin Persian man with thin half moon glasses and grey streaked, curly hair. Martin is a fat mixed Polish/Korean man with wavy hair and a beauty mark under his lip. In the first image, Jon is wearing a white knitted shawl and a long, dark high collar dress. His hair is in a low bun. Martin is wearing a straw sunhat with a tied ribbon, a long white apron, apron sleeves, a pleated dark dress, and laced Victorian gardening boots. Martin is holding dirty gardening gloves in one hand, all of his clothes and especially his boots have dirt on them and there are track marks of dirt behind his boots. Jon is holding a broom and swatting it at Martin's legs, glaring up at him and shouting angrily. Martin appears shocked and is backpedaling fearfully.

In the second image, Martin has choppy shoulder length hair, tied back in a short ponytail and wears a large collared shirt and a vest as well as a short apron and gardening gloves. In a blue rectangle to the left upper corner, Martin is clutching a pocket watch in a dirty garden glove and holding his gardening hat to his chest, staring to the side with a demure blush. To the side is a mini version of Jon, standing, eyes closed, with one hand on his hip, the other hoisting out the pocket watch. He says, "Here! Since it's so difficult for you to be on time...". In a green rectangle to the right bottom corner, Jon wears a high collared shirt with a neck tie tied in a bow as well as a suit jacket, vest, and short gloves. He is holding a couple flowers in one hand and looking to the side with an awkward blush. To the side is a mini version of Martin with his eyes scrunched shut, thrusting out the flowers and saying, "H-here!!". His shoes are muddy.

In the third image, Martin has wet hair tied into a low bun, portions of his hair falling out of place. He's wearing the same outfit as the previous image sans gloves. Jon's bare hand reaches out from off frame and grasps Martin's bare hand. Martin looks at Jon with a blush and confused, flustered (and hopeful?) eyes. End ID.]

#jmart #jonmartin #teaholding #jonmartinweek2023 #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #order up! art tag #im sowwy for posting this late uwahh #but at least my wrist is feeling better now #historical trans jmart is so important to me waaahhhhh #horrors may be upon them but they are figuring it out together

[arachnostalgiac]

warframe something something

Awakening/Vor’s Prize:  You’re a Tenno and you wield a Waframe.  Don’t know what those words mean, that’s great, you won’t for like a billion quests.  Some guy puts bad bling on you.  You meet your new mom and your new son.  Get ready to learn a lot of vocabulary words.

Saya’s Vigil:  oh boy your husband sounds great i bet he’s not just like.  fifty feet away from you or anything.

Vow Solaris:  AND WE ALL LIFT.  AND WE’RE ALL ADRIFT TOGETHER, TOGETHER.

Once Awake:  You aren’t alone.  There’s bugs.

The Archwing:  What the fuck is Tellurium

Stolen Dreams:  You will hear more vocabulary words.  No one knows how they’re pronounced, not even the voice actors, this is fine.

The New Strange:  cephalon simaris is a little jerk who doesn’t understand personal space and tried to steal my son

Natah:  get ready to meet your new shitty grandpa.  also, learn about your mom.  your weird uncle is here, too.

The Second Dream:  congratulations, you are a haunted child.  the grandchild your grandpa likes better shows up.  more mom lore.  suddenly, the moon.

The War Within:  weird uncle lore.  you may be wondering ‘how bad could the orokin be’.  well.  i have good news.  be prepared to find out.  also, there’s a worm.  there’s a couple worms.

Chains of Harrow:  it’s time to meet your creepypasta-est brother.  also uh.  maybe learn that your original mom wasn’t the best sometimes.

Apostasy Prologue:  meet your shitty stepdad.  welcome to a momless existence.

The Sacrifice:  well we’re a good ways in and it’s finally time to learn what a warframe is.  the answer:  creepy and wet.  a cool guy is here, but watch out for evil stepdad and evil mom.

Prelude to War:  huh.  that can’t be good.  also there’s a shitty uncle too.

The New War:  oh boy this one’s a lot.  two of them.  your son gets a body.  get ready to play a different game for a while and also.  be sad about songs.  beat up your stepdad.  there’s a snake.  the space devil’s here.

Angels of the Zariman:  remember where you met the space devil?  it’s haunted.

Veilbreaker:  MY BOY.

#warframe

[motherakuma]

It's late

Hi, yall. It's late, I need to go to bed, I need rest, and I just had a big day.

I miss Solar, a lot. And the old Moon and Lunar. Idk why, it just hurts tonight.

Uhhh I had a fanfic idea, because I heard the song Wet by Dazey and the Scouts. So, hear me out.

Eclipse, he had just gone through a breakup with Sun. (Insert dramatic lore and plot, how they got together, why they broke up)

So, he's sitting there, in his room, without Sun. Missing them, etc. Thinking about how pathetic he is and how he really doesn't need Sun.

Depression arc, ykykyk

But he can't stop thinking about how Sun made him feel loved. His personality, his mind, his body, etc. Yadadadadada.

So yeah, small idea, might flesh it out later.

I need to work on my original fic, but take a little drabble I wrote tonight:

(Slinking down into the floor, he inhaled sharply. The soft sounds of his mechanics only reminding him of how empty his room now was.

Stars did Eclipse miss him. The way he laughed, how he walked, talked, sung, blinked, moved, anything. Absolutely anything Sunrise did was...Fucking beautiful.

Sniffling, hot, building pressure continued to press harshly against his eyes. The warm, rushing fluid that worked as his blood seemed cold now. Long, lanky legs pulled up to his chest, head buried within his arms, he took another long 'breath.'

He wanted Sun to tell him that he was okay, that everything would work out. He wanted to be overstimulated with love, he wanted to he suffocated in their kisses and affection. He wanted to drown, to choke. To cry, to hide.

He wanted it more than anything. To be held again, to laugh with them.

Oh stars...They really, royally fucked this up, didn't they?

Trembling, he pulled at his rays, trying to find some kind of grounding. The smell of lemon cleaner, hand sanitizer, and sunnydrops were burned into sensors.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck- you weren't supposed to miss a person like this-? This was obsessive, creepy, not okay!

Well, damn, when was he ever okay?

Recoiling in on himself, he burned in shame. It was scorching, and searing. Melting through his dignity and right through his motherboard.

He was so fucked up without Sun.

It was a shame sun was better off without him.)

Boom. That was the thought. Idk what else to do, goodnight icecubes. <3

#the sun and moon show #tsams au #sun and moon show #tsams eclipse #ao3 fanfic #i love them #sun x eclipse #eclipse sams #tw suggestive #eclipse x sun #tsams sun #i need heeeeelp

[postmortemscandala]

BEN Drowned

Past:

sacrificed by The Moon Children cult in 2006

was drowned in a lake in a forest in Maine

gets triggered by the mention of cults - but doesn't remember why

Behaviour:

Ben is extremely childish but outgoing and enjoys pranking people

is afraid of large bodies of water but also doesn't know why

is a good liar and manipulator, he likes to psychologically manipulate people, is also surprisingly intelligent

has a slight god complex - knows there are no repercussions for his actions because he's a spirit

because he doesn't remember anything from before, he thinks he's always been a spirit

Liked video games, specifically retro games (Legend of Zelda, Mario, Street Fighter, Pac-man, Space Invaders, Donkey Kong etc)

Relationships:

he doesn't like Sally - finds her annoying and kind of creepy

gets on with Toby the most - they hang out a lot, have similar humour, and play games together

Abilities:

pretty powerful compared to most spirits because of demonic energies that were infused in his soul during the sacrifice

can control devices, possess devices & small objects & weak-minded people, can electrocute people, emits a buzz of static electricity

14 years old (physically, forever)

18 years old (actually)

5'0"

American

forever has hair that appears to be wet

eyes are constantly bleeding

has a physical body most of the time, but can become phase-able

#creepypasta au #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta fanart #creepypasta #alternate universe #slenderverse #ben drowned

[cowboyemeritus]

Hi!!! I am a fellow Mary gore enthusiast and i had this idea.

You were a sibling of sin at the ministry, a relatively new one, but you had a secret. You were raised catholic and only recently converted, so you were a virgin. Mary can practically smell the innocence and can’t keep his hands off you.

Ugh what I’d do for this baby 😭

ugh I know!!!! I’m so down bad for Mary it’s embarrassing

thanks for reaching out! here’s a little something something under the cut for your time. :)

everyone please feel free to send in requests/suggestions! I want to get back into writing and could definitely use the motivation lol

quick cw: no smut, but definitely mature content. also maybe stalking? idk Mary is a little creepy here but reader definitely likes it.

The evening dew soaks into your habit, and you squirm uncomfortably as it chills your skin. Mary’s lithe figure presses into you from above, pinning you to the grass with a surprising strength. Backlit by the full moon, you can just barely make out the contours of his face, high cheekbones and a blunt, straight nose. Now that it’s drying on your skin, you can smell that the blood they wear is fake. After everything you’ve experienced in the last month, that actually comes as a surprise.

Mary kisses you again, humming contentedly against your mouth. There was little resistance when, on your way back from the initiates’ bonfire, they ambushed you in the garden. Despite the warnings, all the rumors passed around about who — or what — they are, you were under their spell from the moment you first felt their eyes on you.

“Oh, Mary?” The Sister asks. She blows on her cup of tea, the steam dissipating into the air in faint swirls. “No one quite knows what their deal is.”

“I’ve seen them a few times now,” you note. “He’s always there when I cut through the cemetery. Groundskeeper, maybe?” She shrugs.

“I’m there all the time and I’ve never seen him.”

If they’ve been watching you, as you suspect, it certainly took them long enough to make a move.

“Look at you,” Mary growls, a grin splitting their pale face. You hang on to each word, not quite used to the sound of his voice yet. After all this time, the only thing exchanged between you being glances across rows of graves, hearing them speak is new and exciting. “Beautiful.”

I should be afraid, you think. Instead, your cheeks flush.

“M-“ You have to swallow, your mouth suddenly dry. “Me?” You’re shaking. A part of you worries this is all a mistake. Maybe you misinterpreted his attentions? You’re just a lowly initiate, after all. You’re still wet behind the ears. Inexperienced.

Naive.

Mary laughs, and it’s like music. He brushes his cheek against yours affectionately, stubble just barely tickling your flesh. Your eyes flutter shut, and lost in the gesture, your guard drops.

Before your eyes open again, he’s latched himself onto your neck, nipping and sucking at the tender skin there. A tremor wracks through you at the unfamiliar sensation, wrenching your mouth open and pulling out moan so loud the ghouls can probably hear it down in the dens. You should be embarrassed — the other initiates in your cohort will likely tease you relentlessly if you’re caught, but you couldn’t care less. None of them, it seems, are of interest to Mary. This mysterious, beautiful stranger has eyes only for you.

Pressing his nose into the junction of your neck and shoulder, Mary takes a deep breath, full of your scent. They sigh, flicking their tongue across the spot on your neck you know is already deep purple.

“I can practically smell it on you,” he says, taking another whiff. You consider asking what they mean, when you remember you’re still using the bar of soap you brought from home. Sweet-pea and violet; such a mild scent underneath the wine on your breath and the bonfire smoke that’s seeped into your clothes, but the contrast is so heavy even you notice it now. The irony isn’t lost on you. It reminds you of your old life; pleated skirts and tacky polos, of dragging yourself out of bed when, in your heart, you know Sundays are for sleeping.

The gears in your head click into place. Your eyes widen.

They’ve figured it out.

Mary retreats from the crook of your neck, but suddenly you can’t meet his gaze.

“Why so shy all of a sudden?” Mary asks. The flush from your cheeks creeps downwards as embarrassment grips your whole being. You squirm beneath them, trying to find the right words.

“It can’t be that obvious…” Mary cocks his head to the side, feigning confusion.

“What do you mean, baby?” He wants you to say it. Fucking hell. Trying to prolong the inevitable, you surge upwards, crashing your mouth into his. Mary groans into the kiss, and you feel a bit more of his weight press down on you. “Hmm?”

You huff and roll your eyes, finally defeated. If they don’t keep touching you, you’re going to get desperate. “It can’t be that obvious I’m a virgin!”

Mary grins, and for a faint moment, you swear you see something in his eyes flicker unnaturally.

You gulp.

#my writing #mary goore x reader #repugnant band #Mary Goore #thanks for the ask! #and seriously!!! send requests!!! #drabbles

[univvrse]

the coven

reader x bakugou x shinsou x kaminari x kirishima

Coven- a formation of at least three or more vampires He told you they were dangerous- why didn't you believe him?

on my ao3 if you'd prefer

1.6k words

Your whole life had been ordinary, perfectly normal to the extent it had almost been boring; something was missing. You had just moved out of your parents house and in fact the whole country- you had just moved to Japan from America, desperately longing for independence, something new. Something exciting. And most certainly, if something exciting was what you were looking for- you had picked the right town:

Tonight was one of the nights where you just couldn't get to sleep. They weren't uncommon. You had already flipped your pillow over multiple times and so both sides were feverishly warm. You quickly checked your alarm clock that sat on your bedside table; it read 03:46. Even though, you had left your hometown in the hunt for something fresh- you missed your old home- the sun, the people and most importantly the life that you had left behind.

Maybe a walk would help you use up enough energy to help you get to sleep. As quietly as you could manage (not wanting to wake your new neighbours) you sat up and heaved your legs over the side of the bed.

You walked across your room, grabbing a jacket from the bedroom floor as you went. You pulled on your jacket and quickly stopped to pull on a pair of jeans that were lying haphazardly on the floor. You grabbed your phone from where you earlier had put it on the side of your bed and put it into the pocket of your jeans.

Swiftly, you walked down the stairs, grabbed keys as you walked and stuck them into the keyhole of your front door. You shivered at the unexpected draft as stepped outside. You quickly shaking of the original shock and began to walk.

Once you had closed and locked the door behind you, you stepped out into the darkness. You shoved your key into your jean pocket. You began to walk across the paved, concrete streets of your new neighbourhood. The cold air stung and bit at your face as you walked. It was dark, lit only by a few dim street lights and the moon. You walked for what felt around 10 minutes until you reached the gathering of trees near your new home.

You were surrounded by tall pine trees. With only a path stretching out deeper and deeper into the unlit wood. It was creepy to say the least.

Trying to ignore the cold, you walked along the concrete path that stretched along as far as you could see. The silence was deafening, with only your quiet footsteps and the slight wind rustling through the trees. You eventually sat down on an old bench, the structural integrity was questionable as the wet wood seemed to be rotting at the base of the legs

You pulled your feet onto the wood and your legs against your chest before looking up at the night sky. It was a clear night, probably why it was so cold, and you could see all the bright stars above you. The moon was nearly full, bright and you found the light strangely comforting.

You decided that you would only sit there for a few minutes before you would head back home to try and get some rest.

However, you were sat there for who knows how long before a purple haired boy who seemed about your age approached where you were sitting. He was . "This seat taken?" he asked, motioning to the empty seat next to you. "Uh well no but-”

“What are you doing out so late?" the boy asked interrupting you and sitting next to you.

"Couldn't sleep." you mumbled, just loud enough for him to be able to hear you "I assume you're the same?"

He chuckled slightly "Well you could say that. You should be careful; you never know who could be lurking in the dark”. He smiled, flashing his teeth. They seemed oddly sharp; you frowned. “What’s your name,” you asked desperately trying to change the subject. “Hitoshi”. It was odd, that sounds like his first name, something reserved for those close to you in Japan. “You?”, he asked the question with intent. You swallowed, “Y/N”. You gave him your first name, hoping to match his energy.

“So, why didn't your parents try and stop you coming out so late tonight?" he asked staring at the sky. "I live alone actually," you laughed awkwardly, surprised at your openness to tell a stranger of this fact; "I just wanted to burn off some energy." “Interesting”, he smirked, showing his sharp canines to you again.

“Your parents don’t care you're gone?" you asked "No, they died a long, long time ago actually.” He let slip. “Oh, fuck I’m so sorry.” “Don’t be it was a long time ago," he paused, clearly thinking of how to change the subject, you could almost here the cogs turning in his head. "I've never seen you round here before."

"Oh I just moved here, I live up in apartments on 8- I just moved from America ." you gave the stranger almost your exact address without a second thought

"Ah, I see," he paused "well sorry but I have to go meet my", he paused for a moment, deciding what word to use; "friends." You sighed, you had been hoping to make a friend in this strange, new town. "You can come; if you want to that is?"

"Oh: yeah that would be great”, you replied not caring that you had barely met him. You were intrigued by him, drawn to him almost.

He stood quickly and offered his hand to help you up. You took it, his hand was ice cold. The coldest thing you had probably ever felt. You shuddered, as he helped you stand. He realised his error. “Oh, shit sorry, I get really cold at night”. He said without even the slightest hesitation, yet something inside you told you it was a lie. Still, you followed him through the winding, seemingly endless streets off the forest. While you walked, he told you about his friends.

“Okay so there’s: Katsuki, you have to be careful around him, okay? He’s like freakishly strong and has the shortest temper, Eijiro’s really nice actually just don’t be a total dick and you’ll be fine. Denki’s cool but kinda creepy, I guess- that's probably not the right word- he's not so bad actually”. You listened intently until he went silent again.

"So Hitoshi, there was other benches in the park, why'd you want to sit next to me” "You can see the stars the best there," the purple haired boy said quickly, almost maliciously but yet you didn’t see it as such. "You're pretty too", he added with a glance in your direction.

"Oh thanks", you replied, not sure of what to say. Eventually, you reached a small clearing in the forest- there sat three boys. All incredibly attractive- to say the least.

“Yo fresh meat!” a red spikey haired boy called as you approached; his skin was pale, almost as pale as Hitoshi's and his read eyes shimmered in the light of the moon. From where you stood, his skin looked perfectly smooth without a blemish or imperfection. Thinking of it, all of their skin was. Fair and undeniably perfect. Hitoshi grabbed your hand, interlocking your warm hand with his cold skin. All of them stared at you with something that almost seemed like hunger for a moment until Hitoshi spoke up. “This is Y/N she’ll be hanging out with us tonight. Be nice.”

“Can we-” one of the blondes said. “Not a chance” Hitoshi growled. You had no idea what the blonde haired boy had been asking but you were now anxious to know. They all looked at you as if you were something to eat.

“Why bring her then?” The other blonde said. He had piercing red eyes that glinted in the light of the moon. “I think you’ll like her.” the purple haired boy said.

They realised that they had been staring and quickly averted their attention towards each other as you sat down with them. Hitoshi looked at you and stared into your eyes for a few moments as if he were about to say something. Before he could the red haired boy spoke up.

“So, Y/N you afraid yet.” “No, should I be?” you asked a forced smile forming on your lips.

"Aren’t you afraid what a group of guys like us are going to do to you all alone in the night when no one else can hear you scream.” “No.” you replied swallowing down your anxiety, you hadn't at all thought about that possibility until you brought it up. “Brave.” The red eyed blonde said, inviting himself into your conversation.

“I’m Denki.” The other blonde said, it rolled off his tongue as if he had done this a thousand times before. “Eijiro,” the red haired boy introduced himself, leaning over Denki to offer you his hand to shake

You took it, his hand was as cold as Hitoshi’s had been. “That’s Katsuki.” He said nodding at the red eye boy who had yet to introduce himself. “Don’t bother talking to him he doesn’t like talking to,” he looked you up and down “people who he says ‘suffer from the disease of mortality’. “What do you mean, like you guys aren’t human or something,” you sniggered. They all burst into laughter. The red haired boy raised a single eyebrow.

“What did Hitoshi not tell you”, Eijiro said to you, you shook your head. Hitoshi sighed; "well then let’s just say we’re- oh what do humans call us.” He paused for a moment.

“Vampires."

#bnha kirishima #denki kaminari #my hero academia #hitoshi shinsou #vampire #fem reader #fast burn #bakugou x reader #denki x reader #shinsou x reader #kirishima x reader #vampire au #alternate universe

[teecupangel]

It would be very funny if all the Assassin's just turned into FNAF Animatronics and just terrorizes all the Templars lol

I feel bad but when I read this ask, my immediate idea was:

Numbskull is the new security guard and has to go thru the horrors of the first FNAF game with Melanie taking the role of the phone guy who is either trying to downplay the horrors Numbskull is seeing for the sake of the company or is trying to keep Numbskull calm because there’s really no other option for the both of them.

Okay.

So before we give each Assassin an animatronic to haunt, our initial setup would be that Abstergo Entertainment has become haunted. No matter where they move, even if they leave behind lots of shit, the moment they are set up (maybe a month or so), people would encounter the creepy animatronics that they specifically left in the last location.

They can’t destroy them because they’re company property and, well, Abstergo wants to make money, not lose them.

If they hire unsuspecting cannon fodders, the Animatronics would just ignore them and start destroying other equipment.

But Templars?

Oh, they would focus on terrorizing the Templars, playing some sick game (like that game which I cannot find the name of where the other ‘players’ move if the ‘it’ is not looking at them but will freeze if the ‘it’ is looking at them) which… usually ends with the Templar being so scared that they would need therapy.

So yeah, Templars were being used to keep these animatronics from destroying expensive shit but… Melanie was freaking sure that they were getting more animatronics the more memories they look at!

The Animatronic-Assassins:

Altaïr: Chica (Chica’s a chicken which is a bird. Altaïr’s name means ‘flying/soaring eagle’ which is a bird. Altaïr gets the yellow animatronic chicken with the pink cupcake because I kept giving Altaïr the bird motif ones so yeah.)

Ezio: Bonnie (By the rule that the main four original haunted animatronics will be Desmond’s four ancestors (and technically the four main protagonists of the AC games), this means Ezio gets to be the blue animatronic rabbit)

Ratonhnhaké:ton: Freddy (Ratonhnhaké:ton can use ‘bear power’ in the DLC so he gets to be the animatronic bear. And I think it would be like a slap on the face if Ratonhnhaké:ton gets to be the main ‘mascot’ haunting Abstergo since Abstergo spent sooooo many years ignoring him.)

Edward: Foxy (Foxy’s the pirate, seems a done deal)

Desmond: Golden Freddy (only appears rarely and seems to be the most docile of the animatronics… although his appearance is said to be a message that this would be the Templar’s last night as all other animatronics becomes more vicious once he makes his appearance)

Arno: Either Circus Baby or Ballora, although I’m leaning more on Ballora mainly because of the blue color scheme. Also, the Minireenas can be considered as a reference to the coop mode avatars and Arno can use them to mess with the Templars.

Evie and Jacob: I feel like it would be fun if they were like the Sun (Jacob) and Moon (Evie) Daycare Attendant. They share one body but, instead of Jacob being a more or less harmless animatronic, Jacob is loud and focuses more on scaring Templars thru sounds and the impending doom because he can walk slowly even with lights on (very very slowly though) while Evie will be the silent and fast stay-in-the-shadows type. It’ll be easier to figure out where they are by keeping the lights on to keep Jacob as the main ‘personality’ but that means he’s pretty much the decoy that can easily empty batteries or short circuits the electricity if the Templars are not careful.

Alright, if you want Haytham or Shay in this AU, they’ll be the one trying to help the Templars survive… as Helpy and Wet Floor Bot.

#desmond gets special mention #because it’s me #fnaf au #ask and answer #assassin's creed #desmond miles #altaïr ibn la'ahad #ezio auditore #ratonhnhaké:ton #connor kenway #edward kenway #arno dorian #evie frye #jacob frye #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed