#or is it just another part of her game and she might yet kill him after he leaves eve

[autistichalsin]

My incomplete list of circumstantial bits of evidence for werebear!Halsin

Note: I can see the case for both Halsin knowing AND not knowing that he's a werebear- I'm going to include both here.

The most glaring: Halsin can't control his wildshape. This is highly unusual for any Druid, let alone an Archdruid of his age and power. He not only can't control the transformation when experiencing strong emotions, but he can't entirely control his actions when scared or angry; he tells the player, after being rescued from the goblin pens, that he will be unable to not attack the goblins threatening them. This makes no sense for a wildshaped Druid, but makes plenty of sense for a terrified werebear. 1B. No other Druids in the entire game have the wildshape problems Halsin does. 1C. Halsin can control all his other wildshapes properly, and behaves much more like other Druids when using them.

Werebears who haven't learned to control themselves yet (such as if they don't know they are one, are recently turned, etc) often transform unexpectedly when threatened.

Halsin's bear wildshape is treated differently than any other; it's the only wildshape he can't control, and it has a separate mechanic to other wildshapes in-game, being activated not with other wildshapes, but on the screen for abilities that are an intrinsic part of the character's skills. Yes, this is probably because it's only Halsin who can do this, but circumstantially... it is interesting.

Werebears avoid biting to prevent spreading their lycanthrophy (unless they have negotiated with the person they are trying to turn). As far as I've seen (I DEFINITELY could be wrong, though, please let me know if I am), Halsin only ever uses his claws to attack- no biting attacks.

If you look at the sky during the romance scene with the player, the moon is shown very bright and prominent; it isn't 100% certain, but it looks like it could be full.

Halsin is VERY different from his normal personality in bear form, excluding the romance scene; if you use Speak With Animals when he's in the cage, he'll say things like "time for blood" as he prepares to attack the goblins. Werebears in bear form are noted for being irritable and quick to violence, though they attempt to mitigate the effects of these impulses through self-isolation so no one innocent is harmed. 6B. Halsin in normal form tries very hard to not get violent when possible, noting that "killing is never [his] first choice", yet when needs must, he won't hesitate to kill- the opposite of the bear.

If Halsin doesn't know he's a werebear (explaining him not telling you), it's worth noting that it IS possible for werebears who weren't born as such not to be aware, with any actions taken during the full moon tending to get written off as bad dreams. Halsin could just think he has a recurring nightmare about losing control of his bear form.

Halsin resonates wit bears a lot deeper than most other Druids do with their favorite animals. Kagha comes the closest with her love of snakes, but even she speaks more metaphorically, whereas Halsin will do it literally, such as a new, as-yet-unimplemented line where he says he hopes "an old bear" can help the player, making jokes about poking the bear, etc. in fact, he refers to himself as a bear more often than he refers to himself as an elf.

Halsin makes reference to honey mead being his favorite drink. Werebears have a special honey mead concoction they enjoy. This drink is highly intoxicating to non-were, which means it might be more intoxicating than other drinks to were too.

Halsin is shown having an alignment that leans far more towards good than neutral, whereas most of the Druids in this game have a neutral alignment. Werebears are one of two weres in DND lore that have a good alignment.

Werebears usually live solitary lives. Circle of the Moon Druids are noted as being very solitary as well, with it being possible to go weeks without seeing another Druid (though Archdruids of this Circle will of course be more involved). Halsin, before becoming Archdruid, is implied to have fit this, such as him making reference to having hibernated in bear wildshape.

However, werebears are still noted to have a strong sense of community, and they often act as guardian of a particular area. Like Halsin protecting his Grove, then protecting his commune in the end, even noting that his urge to roam has dwindled after finding the latter. In fact, werebears are noted to often be sedentary and prefer not to leave their homes; Halsin is restless and roaming until the epilogue, when all his traumas are resolved, at which point he settles and shows contentment at having gone from "a life of high adventure" to one of anything but. (He says this to the player if romanced, worrying that he took them from just that life, but he repeatedly says he is happy to have given up adventuring.)

It is noted that when werebears don't isolate, one of the more common choices for werebears is.... you guessed it. Becoming a Druid.

Werebears have the ability to call local bears to them. The Emerald Grove has three bears living there.

Werebears don't marry, but might have favorite mates they visit often. Depending on player choice, Halsin might end up a bit more committed than the latter, but still less than the former. Also, this ties in well with Halsin's stated philosophy on polyamory, with him specifically stating that a bear's coupling habits suit him more than another animal's, like, say, a wolf, would.

It is well-known by now that there used to be a Bard Origin named Helia, who would have been either a Halfling or a Gnome. Helia also would have been a werewolf. While it's not known for sure that she was cut specifically FOR Halsin to be made playable (it's doubtful, given how early Helia was cut), there are signs that parts of her story might have been given to Halsin. For example, if one looks in datamined dialogues, certain goblin camp scenes still say that it could be either Helia or Halsin's bear there. Such as this one for the goblin kids running off to warn the adults: "Panicked, the kids run to the room with the goblin warriors and call for help, because the bear / Helia has escaped. After that they disappear." (Not sure if they still run in the final game, but the PAD is still in the files.) Or for the goblin kids throwing rocks before the cutscene is triggered, "One of the goblin kids that is throwing rocks at Helia or the bear." I don't want to speculate too much about cut content, but this suggests that Halsin and Helia's stories may have intertwined somewhat, and that when Helia was cut, parts of her went to Halsin. This may be why Halsin's bear wildshape was written more like him being a were instead; in a meta sense, he "became" a lycanthrope when he inherited part of Helia's story.

Halsin is wide/tall, muscular, and has body hair (though not facial hair), to the point that people repeatedly comment on how unusual he is for an elf. Unusual for an elf, but not a werebear, who are noted for being, you guessed it, wide/tall, muscular, and hairy.

Werebears who are bitten instead of being born as such are almost always transformed by a more experienced werebear and then taken as a protege, to become a guardian of the forest, which would explain a LOT about Halsin if he chose this.

Halsin shows a lot of empathy and compassion for Astarion and the Dark Urge. While of course it could just be his genuinely kind nature, it could also be him relating it to his own experience as a werebear.

Lastly, there's this art from the collector's edition; my guess is that this art was made after they decided Halsin would be playable, but before Karlach had an official design (the IGN interview indicates that Karlach was only added earlier this year, leaving a wide window for this to happen). While this is, of course, subjective, the pose and juxtaposition of the bear to Halsin looks a lot like the sort of art used in werewolf movies. Sort of like how one of Halsin's point-and-click lines, "the power of the bear lies within me," sounds very were-like too. This one is more subjective than the others, but I still wanted to include it.

This is all circumstantial, I know, but i thought it might be interesting to get out there nonetheless!

#halsin #halsin silverbough #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

[webslingingslasher]

what if peter calls her annoying for doing soemthing so she geniunely stops

peter remembers the conversation vividly.

'do you mind if i play a game?'

'no.'

'are you sure? cause if you wanna do something now's the time to say it.'

'no, you can play.'

you told him he could play, and you didn't even sound the slightest upset. he must've read that wrong, because while he's trying to focus on killing and not dying, you're chatting up a storm.

peter figured after the third barely there half acknowledgement you'd figure it out, but no. not even when he cut you off to shout something to a teammate. it was the third missed shot and he just really wanted you to stop talking.

it's nonstop and about nothing important. shit about people he doesn't know, or people he has a faint recolection from. his team was about to pull through, but you had to call his name to make sure he was listening to some bullshit about whoever and whatever and he fucking died.

'jesus fucking ch- what?! you do this every fucking time, i asked if i could play, you said yes. i asked if you minded, you said no. yet, every time you sit here and try to have a fucking conversation with me.'

as if he didn't dig in far enough:

'you're fucking annoying.'

ouch. ouch, ouch, ouch.

'i'm sorry.'

ouch, 'you're fucking annoying.' ouch, ouch, ouch.

a heavy sigh, peter rubs his eyebrow. 'yeah, i'm sure you are.' you want to shink into nothing, he made you feel so small in three words.

'you're fucking annoying.' ouch, ouch, ouch.

'i am.' it's timid, peter sighs again, this time at himself. 'i know you are. i'm sorry, i shouldn't have yelled at you. i was doing good and got distracted, i'm sorry and it's just a game.'

peter was sorry he yelled, not sorry he called you fucking annoying. no, that part he meant. it was obvious. 'it's okay.' you feel robotic, but it was your fault he lost his game. you're the one that told him he could play.

peter looks at you, his face scrunched. 'it's okay? i raised my voice at you and it's okay?' you nod, 'yeah. i distracted you.'

sure, that's what he said, but it's not what he meant. 'hey, don't sweat it. if i was a better player that wouldn't have happened, if anything you might just make me better by talking my ear off.'

'you're fucking annoying.' it still stings. you plaster on a smile, it's missing from your eyes. 'yeah, maybe.' peter winks, he bought it. or he just doesn't want to deal with it, you're fucking annoying anyways.

'you can play another round, i won't bother you this time. i promise.' and you don’t. not a single word, you just endlessly scroll on your phone and let peter celebrate his team win.

a cluster of kisses. ‘i had total focus and i set a new record. be proud of me, please.’ you smile, it hurts to know that your silence made him win. that’s how fucking annoying you are.

‘super proud, handsome. feel free to keep playing.’

it doesn’t feel right to peter, normally you’d be begging for attention or coercing him into cuddles. instead, you’re shrugging him off.

‘are you-‘

‘yes. i’m sure.’ twitter and instagram are boring. but you don’t want to be fucking annoying.

peter gives another kiss. ‘you’re the best, trouble. don’t forget it.’

you’re the best… and you’re fucking annoying.

you won’t be anymore.

———

peter’s won every single match this week and it stopped feeling good. and as he’s aimlessly wondering, half hoping to be killed, he realizes he hasn’t heard you in a little bit.

‘hey, trouble. what’s up? talk to me.’ he misses the soft chatters and gentle pokes when he loses focus on you. he misses you bidding for his attention.

‘nothing.’ you glance up to the screen, ‘don’t get yourself killed.’ peter shrugs, he doesn’t care how this match ends. instead, he moves from his chair to the bed with you.

‘c’mon, talk to me. tell me about your day or um, what’s that girl? the one with choppy highlights?’ you flip a page in your book, ‘harmony.’

‘yeah, her. what’s new with harmony?’ he moves into your touch, you slowly nudge away. ‘nothing.’ a multitude of things, actually. harmony is someone who has the life only a writer could make up.

‘i find that hard to believe, you’re always talking about her.’

you’re bitter with your words, but how dare he make it seem like he cares. ‘i did, but not anymore since im fucking annoying.’

peter looks at you, you’re choosing to avoid eye contact even if he knows you’re re-reading the same paragraph over and over. ‘you’re not annoying. who told you that?’

oh, you stare at him. you burn the glare of a thousand suns into his eyes, a moment of rage when you picture his head exploding.

‘you did.’

peter throws his controller down, he’s shot instantly. there’s not even a peek at the screen. ‘i did?’ his mind is counting back, when and the most important, why would he say that?

‘you said and i quote, ‘you’re fucking annoying.’ so don’t sit here and pretend you want to hear my stories or whatever. you’re a fucking liar and you think i’m annoying.’

in the time it takes to blink, peter’s grabbing your book away and forcing you to look at him. ‘i didn’t mean it. you’re not annoying, not now, not ever.’

you push his hands away. ‘you do. you apologized for yelling at me but not for calling me annoying. you said it and you meant it.’

‘i’m a sore loser with a big mouth. i don’t think you’re annoying, i’ve never thought you were annoying, and i never will think you’re annoying.’

you don’t buy it. he sure seemed to enjoy your silence for the past week and you tell him that. ‘no i didn’t. you think because i don’t say something, i don’t know it’s happening. i knew were more quiet and less touchy, but i figured you were really into your new book- not that i hurt your feelings.’

it’s nice to know your efforts weren’t for nothing, but you still feel a sting in your heart. ‘you said i always bother you, and that i do that every time you play.’

peter shakes his head, he’s doing everything in his power to make you toss this idea you think he has about you. ‘i worded it wrong, that’s on me.’

‘what i meant-‘ peter tugs on your knee, you can’t escape his eyes if you tried. ‘what i meant was that it feels like you want my attention most when i’m in the zone and super concentrated. i love that you want to talk to me or sit with me, i just want to win a game too, that’s all.’

you sniff, a threat of a cry if he tries something like this again. ‘so, you don’t hate me or find me fucking annoying?’ peter frowns, he hates that he caused a mental breakdown of sorts behind the scenes over something he didn’t even realize he said.

‘never ever. you’re my girl, trouble. i’m an idiot who doesn’t deserve your passive aggressiveness. next time i act like that, feel free to throw the controller at my head.’

it comes way too quick, you’ve been waiting for this. ‘deal.’

#frat!peter drabbles

[marinetteplztakeabreak]

Every once in a while I think about Adrinette and am just overcome with love again.

It would have been SOOOOO easy to make it cliche and simple. Marinette is a shy little fashion designer. Adrien is a model for her fashion idol/favorite brand. It would have been so simple to say “he represents everything she wants in the world and her dream future so of course she daydreams about being In His World and having him as a beautiful model boyfriend.” And it still would have been so fun and cute!!!!

But INSTEAD!!!! Instead this show said.

Marinette took One look at this boy and went. “Good LORD not another pretty person. There was a time I had an open heart but now I am THIRTEEN and know how the world is. BEGONE. Begone you horrid little demon. I will not stand for your evil little games. I am a Mature Woman so i KNOW that you and your stupid little pretty-boy facade and your extravagant wealth are just tools that you use to get what you want and you don’t think your actions have consequences but GUESS WHAT. I’m a human being. Now SCRAM.”

And then he Did. And then later that day he came crawling back to her like “hi. hi hi hi. Sorry for bothering you I just??? Don’t know what I did wrong??? And like i’m not… you’re allowed to be mad it’s fine I probably messed up!!! I’m not making excuses!!! I just???? Can you please tell me so I can fix it??? Please I’ve never had friends before and you seem sooooo cool and I really really want you to like me and I’ll do literally anything,.. here take my umbrella it’s fine i’ll just get soggy… i just want you to be okay. Please like me”

and it worked so well she was like “Okay. Change of plans. I’m not gonna kill him I decided he might be redeemable” and then she went home and IMMEDIATELY started planning their wedding and just forgot the step of Telling Him She Didn’t Hate Him Anymore and also the step of Proposing and went straight to planning their fiftieth anniversary family reuinion party with all their grandkids.

And THEN!!!!! There’s this whole arc when they finally DO date???? Like????? She’s part of the reason he quits modelling. She’s like “the fashion world is HORRIBLE to you” and yet it doesn’t make her give up she’s like. “I could do better though.”

Like. Instead of giving us “marinette likes adrien because he gives her an Opening into her dream future” (which would STILL be so good and girl power and all of it) this show gives us “marinette likes adrien and he shows her the flaws in the fashion world and she gives him a way OUT. AND he gives her the motivation to go against every barrier and fix an entire industry so that The Horrors don’t happen again and so she can make the world as pretty and perfect as it is in her middle school daydreams.” She likes him bc he shows her that there is good even in the darkest places and that you CAN choose to be kind and that the world is fixable and that she has the power to make her dreams come true and that her dreams are important. and I’m just. I’m so feral about this show how does it keep DOING this

#adrinette #adrienette #miraculous ladybug #ml #ml s5 spoilers #long post

[sugar-grigri]

The ambivalence of life: the massage metaphor 

I'm going to get straight to the point: Denji is perfectly right to want to suffer - it's precisely what he lacked in his 'normal' life.

To understand this, let's go back to the chapter.

Introducing Denji as a CSM wannabe right at the start of the chapter isn't as insignificant as you might think, because this chapter helps to differentiate between CSM and a CSM wannabe.

After all, Denji could very well be one, and chapter 150 makes it clear that the protagonist's dream is to be a CSM, so he literally wants... to be a CSM.

But in order to become CSM himself, we have to understand what CSM is. And that's precisely where the difference lies between a CSM wannabe and Denji as CSM.

Part 2 has repeatedly shown that 'CSM' has become a marketing product, an idol for young people, a source of detestation for others, like express usurpers who have taken to the stage. In short, CSM's identity began to become more diffuse, questioned to the point where it seemed to escape Denji. So what is CSM? 

Well, let me ask you this: what's the first thing you think of when I mention CSM?

Most fans will cite the most traumatic and tragic chapters, shuddering at the mere mention of volume 9. There's your answer: suffering is the secret of CSM's identity. 

But let's move away from this more meta side, and get back to the chapter. 

I know that Nayuta being pushed aside and put in her place stung some people's hearts and it hurt me too! But Denji is right to push her away, cruel as that may seem. Because the complexity of Denji and Nayuta's relationship also lies in the fact that their relationship can have several negative sides.

Firstly, Nayuta is and remains the demon of control, a demon who can't help but have a hold, even over those she loves. And she has done this with Denji on one occasion: when she forbids him to see Asa again.

She forbids it out of a desire to protect him, fearing that Denji will be taken in by yet another girl. This reaction depresses Denji, but he regains hope by acting as CSM, motivated by Nayuta herself because CSM is admired and loved by people. The first instinct at this stage would be to think that this is a bit contradictory: why push Nayuta away when she's the first to admire and encourage CSM? 

Because she hasn't grasped what CSM is all about either. I'll expand on that later, but for now, keep in mind that suffering is intrinsic to CSM. Even when she prevented Denji from continuing his story with Asa, she was preventing Denji from suffering, in itself, from experimenting. The same experience can be just as beneficial as it can be negative, and it's part of the game of life not to know the outcome of a relationship, otherwise you wouldn't go with others.

And that's what Nayuta has done, the demon of control has a happiness that's enough to be two, it's a demon that risks being alone so much that a single loved one is enough to make her happy. But that's Nayuta's idea, not Denji's. 

I'll come back to this a bit more, but for the moment I'm still going to follow the chapter. Denji almost comes to thank Barem and the others for burning down his house and his pets, but he's also aware that morality is being undermined and even talks to Pochita about it. And that's fascinating. 

Even though it may seem horrible, the loss of his animal family allows Denji to realise that he needs this suffering in his life, for many reasons. If Kishibe judged Denji as a man made to kill demons, it's because suffering makes him gloat, because it's the most intense experience he's had in his life.

Transforming himself into a CSM is a way for Denji to confront suffering; he has even internalised it since he was a child, making his body suffer to pay off his debts.

CSM is a creature made for suffering. When Aki became possessed by the Gun Devil, CSM was the culmination of Denji's suffering, his demonic form killing his brother. Just as Denji transformed into Pochita was saved by a dying Power.

The foundations of Denji, Aki and Power only consolidated Denji's relationship with suffering. This double facet, between love and suffering through grief. Pochita is another example, because becoming CSM was followed by an experience of mourning, the loss of Pochita who had merged with him. 

Suffering is as intrinsic to all species as are death and love because suffering is the result of both, the love we have for others is the cause of our suffering when they die.

CSM is this universality, with Pochita sacrificing himself to prevent Denji from dying, suffering every time the cable is pulled. And instead of fighting it, CSM uses it as the engine of his chainsaws. When Nayuta says that this is not the time for chainsaws, she wants to prevent her brother from suffering. But Denji understands that it's precisely when he's suffering that it's time to be CSM. 

Having your head and arms brutally chopped off hurts, fighting demons hurts, in short, transforming into a CSM physically hurts and must hurt. Imagine having a cable cut in half across your torso: it hurts, so why pull it? That's why Denji IS CSM, because it's when it hurts that he realises he wants to be CSM? 

Hybrids don't exploit this pain, demons like the Eternity Demon are even afraid of it, and that's what explains CSM's superiority: suffering exalts him and he uses it as a means to fight. When Quanxi cut off the weapons' heads, it was enough for them to admit defeat, while Denji calmly puts his head back on, not giving up the fight. 

Weapons can't die, but they can see others die, just as suffering can't escape them either. Either they see themselves almost as demigods, as prophets, or they can see themselves as great knights out to save the world.

Denji knows how to exploit his nature; he drinks blood at the slightest opportunity, tries to devour like a demon and is not afraid to use it, unlike the other hybrids. (Quanxi is an exception)

As the spear weapon starts to provoke CSM by saying to really scare them, CSM exploits being sliced in half. Suffering is the fear of weapons.

The whole thing also has a symbolic force, because we've been trying endlessly to cut Denji in two, his human life on the one hand and his life as CSM on the other. Cutting CSM in two won't do him any good, all he has to do is pull his cable.

But above all, the comparison with massage is a very good one, because it sums up life, this combination of good sensations and not-so-good ones. This is precisely what pitted Denji against Makima, that bad films or bad facets of the world and humanity must exist.

This time, part 2 doesn't boil down to this ideology; what Denji is saying is that to live is also to suffer, to be happy is also to have been unhappy. All these things are not mutually exclusive, they go together. 

That's why Denji wins against the weapons, because he won't fight against the suffering they'll put him through, he'll use it to the full, knowing that behind it all there'll be a good feeling. And that seeing the positive side even in pain is nothing other than hope.

Denji himself says that life is a superposition of all these facets. There are things we may never get over, but they don't stop us from moving forward. That's why this chapter is incredible, because Denji doesn't accept suffering as a demon when he's fighting, he wants to accept it in his life too, Denji's life, he has to experiment without Nayuta's permanent approval. 

Denji has lost many people close to him, including his pets. It is precisely through their loss that he wants to suffer. Because suffering is the privilege of the living.

Chainsaw Man is nothing more than 2 entities reunited to survive together.

CSM's laughter is symbolic of this, and chapter 151 made an explicit reference to chapter 82 when Makima starts laughing despite the paroxysm of suffering for Denji, who has just seen Power die. What Fujimoto does is bring together the previous antagonist and the protagonist, to bring out the essence of his work.

Both Makima and Denji laugh despite the horror of the situation as the mask finally comes off, Makima presents her plans and Denji realises what Chainsaw Man is. In short, laughter is the symbol of letting go, as the mask finally comes off. And all this sums up Chainsaw Man, this confrontation between comedy and tragedy, this strange association.

Readers, don't fight the suffering of the characters either, you're reading CSM precisely because of it. You want to suffer just like CSM. So have fun with it.

#chainsaw man #csm #csm part 2 #csm spoilers #csm 152 #csm 151 #denji hayakawa #denji #asa mitaka #yoru #nayuta #nayuta hayakawa #kishibe #pochita #makima #tatsuki fujimoto #my thoughts #csm analysis

[dailyadventureprompts]

Villain: The Gleebringer Battalions

Gallard Gleebringer only ever wanted to make people happy. By using his skills as a toymaker and inventor he sought to fill the world with devices that would bring wonder, and save people from the drugery of labor to give them more time for play.

Seeking to save his neighbours from the horrors of war, and under the patronage of the battlehungry local margrave, Gallard has a constructed an autonomous army of toy soldiers that in some weeks time will go berserk and begin rampaging across the land, playing out an inexplicable war-game that will leave villages sacked and the entire region destabilized.

It’s up to the party to notice the looming crisis and do something about it before the toys begin their march, As the powers that be are not only blind to the looming crisis but actively dismissive of any

Adventure Hooks:

Scraping together enough coin to fund a construct army has left the margrave’s treasury more than a little tight pursed, leading them to skimp on things like repairing infrastructure, public festivals, and resupplying their garrisons. There’s plenty of opportunities for adventurers as bandits and monsters propagate through the wilderness, and the lesser nobles rely on mercenaries to guard their holdings. Its only so long before the cracks begin to show however, as roads wash out and the realms defenders turn to brigandry. 

The party end up in a tavern drinking with an old military officer previously employed by the margrave. She’s iresome and illtempered, but she’ll crawl out of her cups long enough to tell the tale of how after twenty years of loyal service she was let go for protesting when some of the troops under her command were killed in a training exercise.  If the party press a little she might just let it slip that it wasn’t training so much as a field test of Gleebringer’s machines, which her boss insisted be against real troops. Later on, they’ll find an official bounty posted for the woman, who’s rallied some of her fellow discontented soldiers and started on a campaign of sabotage. 

For his part Gleebringer is quite blind to the looming threat, having been carried by his ever shifting attention to yet another new project once the design and manufacture of the armies were complete. The party might get a chance to talk to him however if they manage to sneak into the excursive exposition he's hosting in the province's capital, either by riding in on the coattails of a wealthy patron, or by sneaking in among the serving staff. Actually getting an audience with the toymaker will be even more difficult as the margrave has set his agents to watch and protect Gleebringer, and it's only so long before they notice the uninvited guest have crashed the private function.

Setup: While many gnomes dabble in artifice, it was early in his apprenticeship with the village toymaker that a young Gallard discovered both his love and prodigious talent for the technical arts. It wasn't just a magical knack, it was an eye for detail that had people saying that the gnome's creations seemed to be alive long before he figured out how to make them move on their own.

Soon Gleebringer toys were in demand across kingdoms, and Gallard found himself not only patronized by innumerable wealthy merchants and nobles but sought out by engineers and craftsfolk of all kinds who realized the genius packed away in his creations.

Gallard didn't let the fame or the fortune go to his head, instead using his growing connections and commission budget to experiment with even more complex designs. For example: scaling up from music boxes to clockwork bands, and eventually an automated opera house.

As a man who dreamed all his life of building a flying town, it was safe to assume that Gallard had his head in the clouds. He hated to see people suffer but seldom thought through the implications of his inventions, Such as when an automated lumber mill intended to supply materials for his projects put an entire town of foresters out of work. This penchant for distraction was only encouraged by the margrave, who saw the military applications of Gleebringer's gifts from the moment a clockwork dragon bought for one of his children ended up badly maiming one of the servants who saught to tidy up the toyblock castle it had been charged with guarding.

Over the past ten years, the Margrave has become Gallard's most generous patron, supplying him with workshops ( staffed by apprentaces who's loyalty can be counted on) and an endless series of new projects ( which always end up increasing the margrave's power and standing at the cost of the common good).

Art 1

Art 2

#villain #villain noble #villain artificer #artifice #construct #bounty #city encounter #tavern encounter #town encounter #gnome

[daydreaming-nerd]

The Bonds That Break Us (Rhysand x Female! Reader) Part 6

Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Final Part

Request: "Would you do a Rhysand x fem!reader series? Maybe fem!reader is Rhysand's mate and Tamlin's sister? So secret love?"

AN: Took a wild leap with this one...

Summary: It was almost as if the cauldron liked to play games, as if it had sensed years of boredom and predictability and begged to be entertained. Its method of absolving its melancholy? Mate the High Lord of the Night Court to the younger sister of the High Lord of Spring. 

Warnings (so far): mentions of physical abuse, mentions of SA, major sexisim, SMUT, dirty talk, angst.

Word count: 3557

(all photos are from pinterest)

“And if they win? If my brother and Beron get their way?” I ask Rhysand who is clearly lost in thought, but it’s Mor who answers.  

“Then you would be forced to marry Eris. As fucked up and sexist as it is, they’re going to call into question who had claim of you first Eris or Rhys.” Mor answered clearly, hating the words  coming out of her own mouth. 

“Oh,” I murmured, it was all I could say, the thought that all of this could have been for nothing. Those days spent in a cell, weeks keeping Rhysand and I a secret it didn’t change the outcome of my life. 

“I won’t let it come to that,” Rhys said, walling over to me and pressing his forehead to mine. “I won’t let them take you from me.” 

“You’re right I’m sure we can figure this out,” I reply, not trusting my own words.  

“Let’s go shopping girl, it will give brooding old Rhys here time to think of a plan.” Mor said, trying to lighten the mood. “You can borrow something of mine while we shop.”

“Mor’s right we should get me some clothes,” I giggle looking down at the too big shirt of Rhysand’s that I was wearing. I press a chaste kiss to his lips trying to bring a smile to his face but it doesn’t work. I move towards Mor but I feel Rhy’s hand pull me back. 

“Not without one of these,” he says, pressing his lips to mine passionately. I nearly moan at the way he is always able to kiss me into submission. I swear I’d do anything he asked me if he just kissed me like this. 

“I love you,” I smile, pulling away from the kiss. 

“I love you too,” he smiles, running his thumb over my lips. “Take care of her Mor.” 

“Like she was my own mate,” Mor smiled before leading me to her bedroom.

“This wasn’t just a shopping trip you know?” Mor says, holding up her glass of wine to her lip. “I wanted to thank you.” 

She had insisted that we go out for a drink and for dinner before turning in for the night and given the long day we had I was more than willing to do just that. 

“Thank me for what? I hardly think I’ve done anything but cause problems for your cousin and your court,” I sigh popping another grape into my mouth. 

“Yet I’ve never seen him so happy,” she sent me a knowing smile. “I’ve known Rhys my whole life, never have I seen him so at peace, so willing to live. When his parents and his sister died he was given the title of High Lord, one he never felt like he was ready for. It made him unhappy, but all that has changed because of you.” 

“How did Rhys’ family die?” I ask sipping my own glass of wine. All of the color drained from Mor’s face.

“You don’t know?” she asks bewildered. 

“No he never told me,” I answered, afraid of whatever answer she might tell me. 

“I shouldn’t tell you this,” she said, trying to resume sipping her wine. 

“Mor please, tell me.” I beg her. 

“Okay but don’t let Rhys kill me,” she starts. “200 years ago Rhys and your brother were friends, but your father figured out that Rhysand would be the most powerful High Lord and sought to bring him down a peg. So one night he and Tamlin as well as your brothers went to the Illyrian Camps and slaughtered his mother and sister in cold blood. When Rhysand’s father found out both went to the Spring Court only leaving you and Tamlin alive.” 

I could hardly believe what I was hearing Tamlin had always told me that the agents of the night court had killed our family for stealing their wings, that they were to be an enemy of our court. If I ever asked him to tell me more he would refuse. “But why would Rhys and his father leave us alive?” 

Mor let out another sigh, “Rhys was supposed to kill you. That night he stood over your bed with a dagger, the mating bond snapped into place. He told me that he fell to his knees before you. It was too late for him to rectify what he had done to your family, but when he found his father holding a dagger to Tamlin’s throat Rhys begged for him to live and he did. But Tamlin took Rhysand’s fathers own dagger and drove it through his heart anyways.” 

I nearly felt my knees give out, he had known for 200 years and said nothing. I couldn’t stop myself from reeling. My heart rate began to pick up and suddenly this dress was too tight, this room was too hot and the walls were closing in. 

“I need…I need some air,” I gasped. It was all I could say before taking off. 

I heard Mor calling for me inside the tavern but I couldn’t stop, not for anything. The chill of the night air did little to calm my heart rate down.  I wove through a sea of people, all of them balking at the unfamiliar face. I even heard murmurs of ‘that’s Tamlin’s sister’ and my gut churned. All that was going through my head was he knew, he knew, he knew. 

So I ran, and I ran, and I tried to outrun the feeling but it didn’t matter how far I went, I couldn’t escape the shocking truth I had just heard.

I found myself sitting by the edge of the river about a mile outside of town. Something about the sound of the water flowing by and the crickets chirping gave me time to think. It wasn’t agents of the night court that killed  my family, it was the High Lord, and Rhys. I supposed I should be mad, but given the events of the last few days, what Tamlin did to me, what he’s still trying to do? I’m almost glad Rhys nearly put an end to it all. But it doesn’t change one thing. He knew we were mates for almost 200 years and didn’t tell me. I had heard him calling down the bond for an hour now, but I shut him out. I needed time to process this. 

Behind me I heard the flap of massive wings and then a thud, I turned to find Azriel standing behind me. His face was kind. Not angry or upset like I thought it would be. He looked friendly. 

“It’s a bit cold out tonight, mind if I join you?” he asked, gesturing to the spot beside me. 

“I’m afraid I’m not the best company, but be my guest.” I reply, patting the spot next to me. His massive frame came to sit beside me and as the breeze floated in from my right he curled a wing around me shielding me from it.  

“So you found out how to shut Rhys out of the bond?” he smirked. 

“I guess so,” I shrugged, not taking my eyes off the river before me. 

“Nice,” he smiled like he was proud of me for doing so. 

“Is he mad?” I ask, cringing slightly. 

“No, but he is worried. The second Mor came back and told him what happened and he sent all of us out to find you. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has the whole of Velaris doing search and rescue by now.” Azriel explained casually.  

“I’m sorry. I just needed time.” I said picking at the rocks on the ground. 

“Don’t be. It was a big blow,” he started. “Are you mad at Rhys?” 

“I know I should be, but I’m not. I just wish he had told me.” I sigh.

“You know I was there that night. I was at the townhouse when he returned from the spring court. He was a wreck, an honest to gods wreck. He was so stricken with grief over what he had done that he disappeared to the Illyrian mountains for a week.” he explained. 

“But why didn’t he tell me?” I plead.

“I don’t know. I think he wanted to, but the timing was never right. He spent nearly 200 years loving you from afar and then you finally felt the bond snap. I think he was so happy that he was scared he would lose you. That you would reject the bond.” he said. 

“I suppose I don’t know what I’d do in that situation either,” I sigh.

“One thing you can be sure of is that he does love you. I’ve never seen a person love another person more. Hell he’s trying to claw into my mind as we speak but I’m not letting him,” Azriel chuckles. 

“I suppose I should go back then,” I laugh beginning to stand up. 

“I’ll take you. Do you want me to winnow you there or do you want to go the fun way?” he says, cocking an eyebrow. 

“What’s the fun way?” I ask nervously, dusting the dirt off my dress. 

He snapped his wings out in answer. 

“Oh definitely the fun way,” I smile. “I’ve never flown before.”

“Rhys will be pissed that I’m taking your flying virginity but he’ll get over it eventually.” Azriel smiles before scooping me up. “You ready?” 

“Yes!” I squeal in anticipation and excitement. 

“Hold on tight princess,” Azriel laughs, launching off the ground into the sky. 

My stomach bottoms out and my grip on his neck tightens as the river below us gets smaller and smaller. All the air leaves my lungs as we continue to ascend and then we’re soaring through the sky.  

“Oh my gods this is amazing!” I shout with joy into the night and I feel Azriel’s chuckle reverberate through my body. 

“Do you trust me?”  he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” I smile, still unable to  hide the joy I feel.  

“Let go of my neck, I'm going to let you free fall,” he instructs me. 

“But you’re going to catch me right?” I ask just to be sure. 

“You’re going to be my High Lady one day, I will always catch you,” he says nonchalantly.

“Okay let’s do it,” I say, removing my hands from his neck. 

“See you in a second!” he laughs before letting go. 

I feel myself falling through the sky and it’s the most freeing feeling ever. I can’t help but let an excited whoop out as the wind whips my hair about. I have never felt more powerful, more invincible than in this moment. Every worry about my brother, about Beron and the council are gone, for once my mind is clear. 

I see Azriel tucking his wings in above me diving down to meet me and in mere seconds I feel him scooping me up again. 

“That was so fun!” I shout. 

“Don’t ever tell Rhys we did that he will have my head,” Azriel laughed and I could see the townhouse below us. 

We land on the terrace and the sound of our laughter brings Rhys out to meet us. 

“Thank gods I was scared something had happened to you,” he said, rushing over to press a kiss to my forehead.  

“I’m fine you overbearing mother hen,”  I laugh putting my  hands on his forearms.  

“I’ll leave you two to talk,” Azriel said backing away. 

“Wait!” I shout before running over to throw my arms around him giving the biggest hug I possibly could. For a second he doesn’t hug me back, in shock from my sudden action but then I feel two arms wrap around me. “Thank you for everything, for the talk, for the ride.  All of it.” 

“Of course y/n any time.” he smiled. I backed away and took Rhys’ hand as he began to lead me inside. 

“Oh and Azriel!” Rhys called making Azriel turn around. “I saw that,” he smirked and I know he meant the free fall. 

“Damn,” Azriel cursed before taking off into the night. 

Rhys turned to me, mood more somber now. “I think we need to talk,”  he said quietly, like the words would hurt him if he spoke them too loud.  

“I think we do too,” I replied. 

We walked upstairs to the bedroom, everything was just as we left it this morning. Bed unmade, sheets thrown everywhere. The only noticeable difference was my new trove of dresses hanging in Rhys’ closet. My heart warmed at the sight of it. Something so small yet so meaningful at the same time, so domestic. Something I had unknowingly wanted for a long time. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask turning around to meet his violet eyes. 

“Please believe me when I say I wanted to tell you. I never planned on keeping you in the dark about it. That night I went to kill you I had such hatred in my heart, I had lost my mother and my sister and I wanted revenge. I was young and stupid and following my father blindly. But when I saw you  the bond clicked and I had never known such love. I remember it all. I fell to my knees before you and I realized what I had done. I had killed my mate's family. When I saw my father and Tamlin fighting I begged them to stop, begged my father to let him live. I couldn’t tell them why for fear that Tamlin would kill you just to hurt me. But eventually my father gave in, but Tamlin still stuck a dagger in his heart. When I got back to Velaris I had become High Lord and I couldn’t cope.” he explained, stepping closer to me to cup my cheek. “I have spent the last 200 years in agony knowing what I did to you.” 

He paused taking in my face like he might never see me again, like I might reject the mating bond, and his eyes started to glass over. 

“The day the bond snapped for  you was one of the happiest days of my life. But you were already so hesitant to let me in, you wouldn’t even let my name pass your lips. I knew I couldn’t tell you then for fear of losing you forever. I had to make you see that I wasn’t the monster Prythian paints me to be. Even though I acted like one that night. I was selfish in not telling you. You deserved to know the truth. But please forgive me, and I will spend the rest of my life making up for it in every way I know how. They might seem like empty words, but I love you so much, I don’t think I can live without you.” he finished and I saw a tear slip from his eye. 

“Rhys, I’ve already forgiven you.” I say wiping the tear from his face. “And maybe that makes me a terrible person, forgiving and loving the man who killed my family. But look at what they would’ve done, what they stood for. Tamlin locked me in a cell and was ready to sell me off to be Eris’ breeding vessel. The way my brothers and father always treated me they would’ve done the same, maybe worse.  Who knows what miserable fate you might’ve saved me from. Your true character is reflected in people like Azriel and Cassian, in this beautiful city you’ve kept secret and protected for years. I see all of you Rhysand and there is not a part of you that I don’t love with all that I am.” 

Rhys lets out a sigh of relief before smashing our lips together. I can taste the salt of his tears and the salt of my own. I throw my arms around his neck pulling him impossibly close 

“I love you so much,” he cries between kisses. 

“I love you too,” I say back smiling. I sit down on the bed and pull him down with me. 

“Wait we can’t your still hurt,” he protests. 

“Rhysand, if you don’t get on this bed and fuck me right now I swear on my life I will get myself off.” I gripe at him. 

“While I would love nothing more than to watch you play with your pretty pussy. I think I’d rather do it myself tonight. But you need to tell me if you’re hurting at all okay?” he fusses. 

“I will, I promise! Now please touch me!” I whine taking his hand and placing it on my breast. 

“With pleasure mate,”  he says, squeezing my breast. He snaps his fingers and our clothes are gone. 

“That’s a fun little trick,” I laugh pulling him down, needing to feel his skin on mine.

“Only used for times where I desperately need to be inside you,” he purrs and chills coat my body. 

I kiss him hard letting my hands caress his shoulders and arms, all of him pure muscle, lethal and totally at my mercy. He pulls my hair back to give himself access to my neck and I feel a wave of arousal flow through me as he finds that sweet spot that drives me wild. 

My hand drifts down his front  grazing every muscle on it’s way until I find his cock already hard and dripping with precum. I wrap my fingers  around it and begin stroking it. My hand feeling incredibly small compared to the size of him. His hips buck fucking himself into my hand at the contact. 

“Fuck mate,” he lets out a low groan in my ear. “How is it that even your hands feel perfect around my cock?” 

“It’s because I was made for you,” I muse nibbling his ear. 

“Hmm,” he hums in delight. “You know what was really made for me?”  

“What?” I ask as he pulls his cock from my hand. 

“This,” he smirks before plunging himself inside of me. I arch my back off the mattress in pleasure as he lets out a guttural moan. “Gods your so fucking tight!” 

“Oh fuck Rhys!” I moan, scratching my nails down his back. 

He starts fucking me hard, the mating bond glowing brightly between us. If this is how badly we need one another before the mating ceremony I shudder to think what will happen after. If he thinks a few weeks will be enough he’s dead wrong, I could do this for the rest of my life. 

He snaps his hips at an angle that hits a particularly sensitive spot and I can’t help but moan even louder. 

“Gods I love the sounds you make when I fuck you,” he says with a feral grin before sinking his teeth into my neck. 

“Oh gods Rhys I’m close!” I groan, running my hands through his hair. 

“I’m right behind you mate, make a mess on my cock,” he grunts and it’s enough to send me over the edge with his name on my lips. 

“Fuck y/n!” he screams, spilling his seed inside me.

As I feel his warm cum coat my walls he collapses on top of me and though he’s crushing me it’s an welcome weight. His skin on mine is the best feeling I’ve ever known. His shallow breaths coat my neck as I rub soothing circles on his back. We spend a few minutes catching our breath as I continue to hold him close to me. 

“Did you talk to Cassian and Az about Beron?” I ask. 

“I did and I think we have a solution.” he answers without moving his head from my chest. 

“What is it?” I inquire further, dying to know. 

“We toyed with the idea of having the mating ceremony early but with the meeting so soon it wouldn’t be safe. If we were to walk in there as a newly mated pair I would have Beron’s head ripped off within moments of him talking about you like you’re an object. It’s too dangerous,” Rhys said. 

“Agreed,” I chuckle nervously. “But if we can’t mate officially then what do we do?”

Rhys rolls over from his spot on top of me so that he can see my face, no doubt wanting to gage my reaction to his proposed solution. 

“I make you my High Lady,” he says with pride in his voice. 

I knew that Azriel had said it earlier but at the time I didn’t believe him. It didn’t seem possible. I bore no real powers besides winnowing, I had no political knowledge. How could I possibly be High Lady.  

“But do you really want that?” I ask. “I mean you’re not just doing it to make sure Beron and Tamlin don’t win right?” 

“I’ve always known you were going to be my High Lady y/n. But I knew that the title came with responsibilities. I didn’t want to pressure you into it.” he explains. “But to answer your question more directly, yes, I want it. I want you to be my equal in every way possible. Why do you think I brought up Kallias and Viviane when we were on the Summer Court terrace?”

I smile remembering the interaction.

“Then I guess I’m High Lady of the Night Court now.” I smile triumphantly. 

(I was debating wether or not to put this sort of plot twist in here so please leave some feedback because it helps me to know what you guys like and how I can write better for all you beautiful stars!)

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#rhys acotar #rhysand #rhysand x reader #rhysand angst #rhysand fluff #rhysand smut #rhysand acotar #rhysand x reader smut

[rollingsins]

all hers, part xi

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi | part vii | part viii | part ix | part x | part xi | part xii | part xiii | part xiv | part xv | part xvi | part xvii | part xviii | part xix | part xx | part xxi | part xxii | part xxiii | part xxiv | part xxv | part xxvi | epilogue

summary: Sam and Richie go out for dinner, leaving you and Tara to your own devices. You take full advantage.

warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, smut, cunnilingus, fingering, strap-ons, vaginal sex, top!tara.

word count: 2.3k

a/n: smut break for anon who requested R riding Tara. Let me know what you want to see next!

Living with Sam and Richie, as Tara predicted, is entirely miserable. 

Sam hovers like a mother hen, Richie walks around the house in his boxers, plays video-games until the early morning. Tara’s moodier than usual at the intrusion, throwing jabs and picking fights and you just want one night of goddamn peace. 

One night without feeling like you’re living in a warzone. 

In fact, you’re literally in a warzone tonight. 

Richie’s playing Call of Duty, again, Tara wants to watch a movie and Sam insists on brokering peace between them, offering to go out and buy Tara a TV for her bedroom. 

It goes down as well as you’d expect. 

“Why doesn’t he go out and buy a TV.��� Tara snarls, perched against the couch with her arms crossed, “This is my TV right here.”

“Our TV.” Sam says, pointedly. Richie scratches the back of his head, a little awkward, “You don’t own the TV and you don’t own this house. When you do, you can start setting rules.” 

“Fuck this.” Tara says. She stands, holds out her hand for you, “Play your stupid game, I don’t care. Come on babe, let’s go have sex.” 

Your blush flames across your chest to the tip of your ears. 

“No one is having sex.” Sam says, loudly. 

“No one?” Richie says, a little put out. 

“No one.” Sam confirms as she pries the controller from his hands, “Not until you finish your chores.” 

Tara groans. Sam had set up a chore wheel the night she moved in, something that had immediately set Tara off. It was Tara’s week on dishes, and yet again, she’d let them fester in the sink. Another show of open defiance. 

“You’re on garbage duty.” She tells Richie, “And it’s full. Go take it out.”

“And then I get sex?” He asks, his interest piqued. She ignores him, looks at Tara. 

“Dishes, Tara. I cooked, it’s only fair.” 

“You should have to do it for cooking.” Tara grumbles under her breath, “That linguine was a crime against God.” 

You hop up, take her hand before she can start another fight.

“Come on, baby, I’ll help you.” You say. You press a kiss to the back of her hand. She softens, just a little. Then you’re tugging her out of the room and into the kitchen. 

“Who made her the queen of the world?” Tara seethes as she settles herself onto the edge of the kitchen counter, most pointedly not doing the dishes. You pry open the dishwasher, start stacking the dirty plates in. 

“It’ll only be for a little while, babe.” You say, “Just until she’s sure you’re okay again.” 

But she doesn’t go, not for days on end. 

Days of Richie and Tara fighting over the TV. Days of Sam and her chore wheel. By the end of the week, you’re actually afraid Tara might kill them both.

“Bye!” Tara calls out to Richie and Sam as they head out the door. They’re off to some restaurant for their one year anniversary. You’re both thankful for the reprieve, “Don’t come back!” She adds for good measure. 

Sam flicks her the dirtiest stare, then she’s heading out the front door, Richie in tow. 

“Finally.” Tara says, her eyes alight, “Finally we can watch The Menu undisturbed.” 

The movie is fine. You get a good bit into it before you can tell Tara’s bored. Too much talking, not enough blood. 

You barely make it through the first act before she’s rubbing your leg, leaning down to press a kiss to your neck. 

“Tara,” You say, trying to keep your expression even. Trying to ignore the flicker of desire that courses through you, “Baby. I’m watching this.” 

“I’d rather watch you.” She says, runs her tongue along the length of your jaw. 

You sigh. Let her tilt your head slightly and let her kiss you. 

Her hands move to cup your face. She tastes good. Like that cherry lip balm she knows you like. Like the strawberry cheesecake you’d had for dessert. You bite down gently on her bottom lip and push her back into the couch. 

She’s pulling you on top of her in a flash, movie still blaring, abandoned. You thread your fingers through her dark hair, tug gently as you pull her into you, gasp as her hands wander. Into the back pockets of your jeans, squeezing gently, teasing. 

Then down your thighs, holding you into her. 

You kiss her again, slip your tongue between her lips and grind down into her as she feels you up. 

Kissing her is magic, you could do it for hours. You would do it for hours if she’d let you. If she wasn’t so impatient, always wanting more. 

There’s that impatience now as she’s trying to pull your shirt over your head.  She’s such a boy sometimes, with only one thing on her mind. And right now that thing is your breasts in her mouth. 

Her eyes light up the moment she sees them, like she hasn't seen them hundreds of times before. 

She wastes no time, mouth hot and greedy around your nipples, biting only slightly, then soothing you with her tongue. You tighten your grip in her hair, sigh gently as she palms your ass through your jeans, talented tongue working you up. 

You close your eyes, enjoy the feel of her mouth, her hands, the little noises she makes as she sucks so gently. Then you’re prying her mouth away, wanting her lips back on yours. 

She feels good, warm. You pull her shirt over her head, press your skin into her. 

Then you’re dropping down to your knees, clumsily drawing her jeans down her legs. You line kisses up her thighs, spread her wide for you. She’s soaked through her underwear, you tease your lips along the waistband, dipping slightly to press a warm kiss to her soaked center. She’s looking down at you with hooded eyes, hand on the back of your head trying to guide you. You press your tongue to the fabric once more, then pull her underwear down her legs. 

You both moan when the barrier is gone and your tongue runs up her length, wettening her swollen folds. You don’t waste any time, now you’re the impatient one. The moment her clit is in your mouth you suck down hard, ferocious. 

Her mouth falls open, her head tilting back, a sigh on her lips. 

You squeeze her thighs with your hand, then trail it up to slip a finger inside her warm heat. She feels so good around you, like she always does. Gripping and squeezing. She’s always so tight. You slip a second finger in, lovingly suck on her clit as you drive your fingers in deeper, curling so you can hit that perfect spot. 

She cums quickly, all breathy moans and your name on her lips. 

You frown. It’s too soon, you want to stay down here with her legs wrapped around your head and her pretty pussy in your mouth. You press a kiss to her thigh, let her recover, rubbing your hands along her thighs, hoping she’s not too sensitive for another round. 

Her hands wrap around your arms, trying to tug you up. 

You pout, but relent, suddenly increasingly aware of your soaked underwear. 

She seems to be too, judging by the way she’s trying to pull you out of your clothes as quickly as possible. You take her lips in a searing kiss, completely unhelpful as she undresses you, until you’re naked against her, her hands reaching down to slip between your thighs. 

“Tara.” You moan into her neck as her fingers brush your clit, teasing you gently. Suddenly all thought of being on your knees is gone. You want her to press you into the couch and fuck you until you forget your own name. You tug on her gently, trying to lean back and pull her on top of you. Her grip around your waist tightens. 

“Mm.” Tara says, her voice low, turned on, “No, I want you on top.” 

“Oh, really?” You say, eyes filled with delight. You spread your legs a little wider, trying to give her access. She presses a kiss to your lips, then she’s pulling back, smile coy. 

“Wait here,” She says, eyes warm with want, “I’ll be right back.”

You wait on the couch while she races upstairs. Tilt your head, attention drawn to the TV. When she returns, it’s with the strap-on in hand. Your belly coils as she clambours back onto the couch, drawing you with her. She wastes no time, lubing herself up and then her fingers are back on you, drawing your legs open as she pulls you into her lap. 

You groan as she slips her fingers inside you, warming you up. 

Then you feel the cool plastic against your folds, slipping between them as she tries to find your entrance. You kiss her soft, fingers tightening around the back of her neck as she slips the tip inside you. 

You start slow, getting used to it inside you. Tara’s hands are on your hips, gently guiding you. She’s kissing you, all tongue, wild. When you feel the soft press of her thighs flushed against yours, her entire length inside you, you sigh. 

She doesn’t give you a moment to relax. She’s tilting her hips back and then up into you, sending shockwaves through you. You moan, drop your head forward onto her shoulder as she thrusts up into you. 

She keeps a steady pace, each tilt of her hips hits hard, brushes against your cervix. 

“Tara, fuck.” You gasp as she grips your hips, bouncing you down into her, “Harder, baby.” 

She complies, debauched sound of your skin slapping hers as she drives her hips up into you. 

You take her earlobe between your teeth, grind yourself down onto her. 

“Does that feel good, sweetheart?” She’s asking, momentarily letting go of your waist to rub small circles on your clit. She’s thrusting up into you lazily, enjoying the way you bounce yourself a little harder, like you’re putting on a show for her. 

“So good.” You murmur into her ear. Press a hot kiss to her neck and wrap your arms around her shoulders, “You’re so deep, baby.” 

In response, she wraps her arms back around you, pounds up a little harder. You reward her with a long moan, cheeks flushed, holding her tight against you, wanting to have her as close as possible. Her naked body in your arms, her lips on your mouth, her cock buried deep in your cunt. 

It’s building, your orgasm. She’s close too, her breathing a little jilted, hands around your hips squeezing, squeezing, squeezing as she thrusts her hips up into you. 

She hits just the right spot and you’re about to cum around her when you hear a loud crash and a blood-curdling shriek. 

You freeze, turn your head just in time to see Sam and Richie in the doorway, both looking aghast. 

Richie looks like a deer in headlights, Sam is white as a sheet and Tara’s reaching for the rug on the back of the couch, a little hastier than usual as she tries to wrap it around your body. 

“Tara.” Sam hisses, her eyes alight, “What the fuck?”

There’s food all over the floor, presumably their leftovers from the restaurant. You’re mortified, Richie too. Tara doesn’t seem that bothered, gripping you, keeping you in place. She doesn’t make much of an effort to move, stares down her sister, daring her to leave. 

You tug the blanket around yourself, use the excess fabric to try to cover as much of her as you can. Richie’s staring at the ceiling, his hands limp at his side. When Sam’s shock passes, anger takes over her. 

“This is so not cool. This is a communal space. God, I was just sitting there.” 

“Sorry.” Tara shrugs, not looking sorry at all, “We thought you guys would be out longer. Trouble in paradise?”

Sam narrows her eyes. 

“You’re cleaning that couch tomorrow. Bleaching it.”

Tara hums. 

“We might need to bleach the countertop too. And the dining table. And the-”

Sam raises a hand. “Stop it. God, you’re disgusting. Get dressed and get out of my sight. Both of you.” 

You're still impaled on Tara as Sam drags Richie out, trying to cover his eyes with her hand. 

Your body is flushed bright red, but it isn’t from Tara, not anymore.

“Babe.” You whine as you slip yourself off her, “How did you not hear them come in?” 

“I was a little distracted,” Tara says, biting her lip, “With you moaning like that in my ear.”

“Shut up. I wasn’t moaning.” You say, land a gentle smack on her arm, cheeks red. 

She raises an eyebrow, tightens her hands around your waist.

“Oh Tara,” She mocks, “Fuck me harder, Tara. You’re so deep. I’m going to cum-”

You push yourself off her with a grumble, but she tugs you back and kisses you soft, languid. 

When you pull away, she looks like she wants to go for round two. 

“Upstairs.” You murmur. You look around for your discarded clothes, “God, where are my clothes?”

“You won’t need them.” Tara says, affirms her statement with a kiss to your shoulder. “I’m about to take you upstairs, put you on your back and pound you out so hard that you-”

“We can still hear you,” Sam declares loudly from the other room. 

Tara huffs and you blush bright red again. 

She stands, taking you with her as she wraps the blanket tight around both of your bodies. 

“Talk about a mood killer. Come on, babe.” 

“You’re in so much trouble.” You whisper as she leads you up the stairs. She scoffs.

“With Sam? Please, what’s she going to do? Add another chore to my roster?” 

“With me.” You say, voice low, “I know you heard them come in.” 

She looks at you, smile coy. 

“And what are you going to do to me?” She asks, desire burning deep within her eyes, “You going to punish me?” 

The thought crosses your mind. But Sam’s still hovering in the kitchen, reaching for a broom so she can clean up the mess of leftovers. 

“Get upstairs,” You say, voice thick with want, “And you’ll see.” 

Next part

#ghostface!tara #scream #scream vi #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x yn #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x fem reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x you #sam carpenter #ghostface #all hers #mine #fanfiction

[thenerdykneazle]

Wild Ride

Summary: You and Seb aren't on the best of terms in sixth year. He's desperate to get you to let him back into your life - to the point of inviting himself along on a trip to Clagmar Coast to get ingredients for Garreth's newest potion. The simple errand turns out to be much more dangerous than either of you could have anticipated.

Sebastian Sallow x M!MC

Another collab with the talented @darch7995 who turned this story into audios. Listen to part 1. I gave Rina a task with this one with all the fighting, and she killed it. If you've never heard her audios, you're missing out.

Warnings: violence, swearing, angst with a happy ending, reckoning with the Scriptorium b/c I'm still mad it's glossed over in the game lol

Word count: 6203

You stalked along the edge of the raised platform, scoping out the perfect angle. “Accio!” you said, dragging the blue stone towards you. You held on longer than normal. You released the spell, and the stone kept rolling. It smacked into a red one at the end of the court, which jolted forward – right off the platform and into the grass. The blue sphere slowed to a stop just before the edge, earning you another 50 points.

“Ugh! That’s the third game in a row,” Leander groaned.

“You really should stop going first,” you said, unable to hold back a chuckle.

Leander glared at you. “I should just stop playing,” he said hopelessly.

“Also a valid option,” you replied drily before smirking at him.

You grabbed your bag and sauntered off to head into the library to get some studying done for once.

“Hey, MC! Do you have a moment?” Garreth said as he jogged up to you.

“Sure. What’s up?” you replied as Garreth joined in step.

“I’ve got a favour to ask,” he said. “I need you to help me track down an ingredient.”

You sighed. “Yeah, okay. What is it this time?”

Garreth beamed at you. “You’re the best! It’s just knarl quills,” he said.

“Knarl quills? Seriously?” you interrupted, indignant. “Can’t you just buy some in Hogsmeade?”

“Normally, I would, but Brood & Peck is wiped out after Sharp’s lesson on Laughing Potion. It’ll take weeks for them to get new stock. But it gave me a brilliant idea for a new drink. I’m calling it Gigglewater. Imagine pairing a nice buzz from firewhisky with the euphoria of Laughing Potion! So…think you could get some quills for me?”

He looked at you with a hopeful expression.

“All right. I know where to find a den,” you said, resigning yourself to being an errand boy yet again. “But if this brew of yours works out, I expect a steady supply.”

“Brilliant!” Garreth said, clapping both hands on your shoulders. “You’ll have as much as you can drink, mate. I promise.”

Garreth bolted off to go prepare the rest of his ingredients. You picked up your pace to head inside before your to-do list could grow any longer. Before you’d taken ten steps, you were stopped by another voice.

“Oi! MC!” they called from across the grounds.

You turned to see Sebastian headed toward you with his broom slung over his shoulder.

“I’m headed to the pitch to get in some practice before Quidditch try-outs start next week. You want to join? Ominis mentioned you’re planning to go for chaser,” he said. He added under his breath, “Not sure why he knew before I did, but…”

“Oh,” you said uncomfortably. “I was just headed inside to study, actually. Got to finish that essay on bowtruckles for Howin. But you have fun.”

“Oh,” Sebastian said, crestfallen. He had been excited to practise with you – you never turned down a chance to fly. He’d also hoped a little rough-and-tumble play on the pitch might relieve some of the tension he felt around you lately. “Yeah, no problem. I suppose school does come first.” He forced a laugh. “So, what, uh…what did Garreth want?”

You assumed he had been aiming for a ‘casual’ tone with his question. He ended up sounding rather nervous. “Just help with another potion,” you said shortly.

“Oh, are you going into the forest?” he asked, eyebrows raising slightly. He stood his broom up on the ground, leaning on the handle. “Need a hand?”

“No, I’m fine, thanks,” you said with a tight smile.

“It’s no trouble,” Sebastian insisted with an annoying level of earnestness. “Besides, I can’t have my charge wandering through the woods alone.”

You rolled your eyes. “Professor Weasley put you in charge of me for one trip to Hogsmeade – a year ago. I can handle myself, thanks,” you said before turning to head inside.

“Wait!” Sebastian called as he shouldered his broom again and jogged after you. “I know you don’t need my help. I just thought it might be nice to hang out. It’s…been a while.”

“Has it?” you said, feigning ignorance. “I hadn’t noticed, really.”

“Are you cross with me about something?” Sebastian asked, grabbing your arm to stop you.

You pulled it back out of his grasp. “Maybe I’m just not in the mood to hang out,” you replied coolly, avoiding the question.

“Well, I could come with you to study,” Sebastian said. “I miss my friend.”

You gave a bitter laugh. “Is that what we are?” you asked as you crossed your arms over your chest in what you hoped was an imposing stance.

His brows drew together. “Don’t be ridiculous! Of course, we’re friends!” he asserted.

You flattened your mouth into a thin line and gave a disbelieving grunt. “I figured I was more of a useful acquaintance,” you replied.

“Are you actually joking?” Sebastian asked, gaping at you.

You sighed. “I don’t have time for this,” you said. “If you want to help, then fine. Meet me in the Room of Requirement at half 9.”

“Yeah, okay,” Sebastian said, looking like he wanted to say a lot more. “I’ll see you then.”

“Grand,” you said sarcastically.

That night, Sebastian arrived in the Room of Requirement at 9:35. “Sorry I’m late!” he said as he burst in. “Weasley was asking me all sorts of questions when she found me wandering the corridors. I swear that woman has an extra sense about when students are planning to sneak out.”

“It’s fine,” you said tersely. “We’ve got a long journey ahead, though. We should get going.” You checked your supply of potions again. You made sure Sebastian had a full set, too. Garreth had set you up with a large store of all sorts of potions, including a particularly strong form of the edurus potion. You had to admit that your partnership with the ginger was quite mutually beneficial.

“Is this what you did all the time last year?” Sebastian asked. “Sneaking out and running around the Highlands?”

You shrugged. “Basically,” you confirmed.

“No wonder you were always so exhausted,” he said. “I swear you had permanent bags under your eyes.”

You shot a glare at him. “Cheers, mate,” you said sarcastically.

“Not that you looked bad,” he assured you, hands raised in defence.

“Mhmm,” you said sceptically as you grabbed a handful of floo powder. You threw it into the little flame. “Clagmar Coast.”

You disappeared in a haze of flames and soot.

Sebastian sighed. “Smooth, Sallow. Real smooth,” he said to himself, shaking his head. He quickly went through the floo, as well.

He landed in a small cabin. It was cold, as the shabby building let the wind rolling off the sea slip through its many cracks. He pulled his cloak more tightly around himself as the two of you stepped out of the little hut and onto the beach. “Merlin, it’s freezing out here!” Sebastian groused.

“Yeah, that tends to happen when the sun goes down,” you snapped as you started down the beach.

“What is your problem lately?” Sebastian asked as he followed you.

Before you could answer, you heard a distant voice.

“I swear, every time we draw straws for patrol, I get the short one,” a man said.

“Hide!” you hissed in a low voice. You practically body-slammed Sebastian against the cabin, tucking yourselves just behind the chimney. As you did, Sebastian steadied himself with a hand on the wall and the other on the chimney, while you slapped your hand over his mouth so that he didn’t make noise. All he got out was a little “oof” as his back hit the stone wall.

You cast a nonverbal disillusionment charm over the both of you. Sebastian’s heart was racing. He genuinely wasn’t sure if it was due to the sudden presence of unfriendlies or your practically invisible body pressed against his in the near-perfect reverse of the position he so frequently desired to put you in lately.

You both heard the crunch of their footsteps on the sand as the two dark wizards approached.

“I don’t see why you’re complaining. Going on patrol’s more interesting than standing around at the camp,” a feminine voice replied as the footsteps continued to draw nearer.

“At least there aren’t dugbogs at the camp,” the man huffed. “That last one nearly took my eye out with that slimy tongue!”

Just then, Sebastian’s hand slipped as the brick he’d been holding came loose. He squeezed his eyes shut, wincing as it clattered against the rocky ground.

“What was that?” the woman asked.

“It came from over there!” the man replied.

“Bombarda!” the woman yelled.

Sebastian launched you both away from the cabin just before the spell hit the chimney you’d been hiding behind. It burst apart, sending dust and brick in every direction. Your disillusionment released as you tumbled across the damp sand before clambering to your feet.

“Stupefy!” you yelled, aiming for the man in front.

“Confringo!” Sebastian said just a split second slower.

The man, who was dressed in a soldier’s uniform, dodged your spell but was hit with Sebastian’s. He yelled in pain as the fiery curse burned his side. “You’ll pay for that!” he said.

The woman, an assassin, sent a slew of curses your way. You dodged and deflected, waiting for an opportunity to strike. Meanwhile, the soldier was locked in a duel with Sebastian.

“Time for some assistance,” the assassin said, aiming her wand at the ground.

Several inferi burst out of the sandy shoreline. They lunged for you. “Incendio!” you shouted. The ring of flames that erupted around you knocked them back. You levitated one before dispatching of another. A third clawed deep gashes into your back. As you whipped around, sending a blasting curse its way, the assassin hit you with a disarming charm.

The inferius crumpled in a burst of flames as your wand went flying. With your wand gone, the inferius you had levitated crashed back to the ground.

Sebastian finished off the soldier with a severing charm before summoning the remaining inferius away from you just as it lunged to attack. You dove into the sand, and just as you grasped your wand, the assassin attacked. “Petrificus totalus!”

The spell hit you as you were half-way to your feet. You could do nothing as you heard the assassin cry out, “Expulso!”

You were blasted back into the rocky cliffs that rose up from the sand behind the ruins of the cottage. You collided with a crunch before falling to the ground. Your lungs burned as you tried to replace the air that had been knocked out of them by the impact.

“Reducto!” Sebastian roared. A blue jet of light erupted from his wand. It arced through the air before striking the assassin in the chest. She shattered into ash – the sea breeze scattered her remains across the wet sand before the tide rinsed them away.

Sebastian turned to you, looking panic-stricken as he saw your crumpled form. Behind him, the soldier who lay bleeding on the beach raised his wand. You summoned your remaining strength, reaching deep inside to your connection to the ancient magic, and sent a nearby boulder soaring through the air before crashing it down on the man’s body. It collided with a sickening crunch as his bones splintered apart. His arm fell back to the earth. He didn’t move again.

Sebastian had watched the final blow with wide eyes. His attention quickly snapped back to you as you struggled to get back to your feet. He rushed over and grabbed your arm. “I’ve got you,” he said.

“I’m fine!” you bit out, ripping your arm from his grasp in a painful, jerking motion.

“I was just trying to help!” Sebastian said irritably.

“Yeah, well, you helped enough giving our position away by knocking that stone loose,” you said. You uncapped a wiggenweld and gulped it down. The ache in your side faded, and you were able to breathe easily again.

“You’re seriously blaming me for a loose rock?” he asked.

“It’s an old shack. You should’ve been more careful,” you argued. “Clearly it didn’t take much to bring down that chimney.” You gestured to the wreckage.

“Yes, well, we’ll certainly be needing a different way back to the castle,” Sebastian said bashfully.

“What an astute observation,” you said sarcastically. You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “We should get going before anyone notices that two Ashwinders are missing. The knarl den is in a cave just west of here.”

You made haste up the rest of the coast, breathing a sigh of relief when you reached the mouth of the cave without incident. “Well, that’s inviting,” Sebastian said, noting all the warning signs and paintings of skulls and crossbones. “‘Turn back or perish.’ What more invitation do we need?”

“Oh, it’s not so bad inside,” you said. “Especially since all the poachers should be gone.”

“Any other surprises that might be awaiting us in there?” he asked.

“I mean, it’s a cave, so spiders are likely,” you said.

“Naturally,” Sebastian replied unenthusiastically. “I’ve been living arachnid-free for too long, anyway.”

You gave him a cheeky smile. “Look at you learning the difference between insects and arachnids,” you said with mock pride. “You studied over the summer didn’t you, you little bookworm?”

Sebastian gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “I’m so glad that Ashwinder didn’t knock that charming sense of humour out of you,” he said sarcastically.

“Come on, you grump,” you said. “I don’t want to be out all night.” You ducked into the cave, and he followed after you with a begrudging “fine.”

The first half of the trek into the cave was uneventful other than some cobwebs and egg sacks, both of which were easily burned away. Fortunately, there was no sign that any poachers currently occupied the cave. It was just damp corridors, jumping over crevices, and climbing ladders.

Sebastian groaned as you started up yet another ladder. It was even taller than the earlier ones. “You were just gallivanting through caves like this all the time on top of all the things we got up to together?” he asked.

You paused in your ascent. “Pretty much,” you confirmed. “That and helping Poppy to fight poachers and Natty to take down Harlow.”

“Oh, I haven’t forgotten that. Or all the errands you were running for other students – which, clearly, is one hobby you haven’t given up,” he said. He followed you up the ladder. He had to admit, all this climbing did come with the perk of some very nice views of your arse as the fabric of your trousers was pulled taught against it. You were waiting casually as Sebastian hauled himself up the last bit of the ladder. He doubled over, hands on his knees, as he caught his breath. “No wonder you’re so fit.”

You raised an eyebrow at him.

“I-I mean, not fit fit, but actually fit,” he added quickly. “Not that you’re ugly, though! It’s just that you’re very, erm…athletic…is my point.”

You nodded slowly, resisting the urge to laugh at him. A small smirk had found its way to your lips, though. “Right…Maybe you should worry about your own stamina, Sebastian,” you said. “You do have quidditch try-outs coming up.”

“Yeah, that’s probably good advice,” he said sheepishly. He was thankful for the flush he had already had from all the climbing, or his embarrassment would be obvious in the blush on his face.

You just shook your head at him before marching on. The awkward conversation was quickly forgotten as he had to focus on crossing rickety boards and passages with steep drop-offs. You progressed rather quickly through the maze of tunnels as you were able to recall the proper path forward.

“You know, it’s quite nice going through a cave without you stopping every five feet to rummage through an old chest,” Sebastian teased.

“Well, if we’re sharing, it’s nice having you actually follow my lead to hide and assess a situation before rushing in wand blazing,” you said, glancing back at him before ducking into a tunnel.

“That was one time!” he argued as he followed in behind you.

“Only if you don’t count the second trip into the catacombs. Or the scriptorium. Where you cursed me. Which, I never got the chance to say, but fuck you for being able to, by the way,” you said.

Sebastian was taken aback. This was not how he anticipated the night going.

“What had I done to you at that point, anyway?” you continued.

You were out of the low tunnel now and were moving at a quick pace. Sebastian grabbed your hand so you would stop and look at him. “Just wait a second, will you?” he said.

He sighed, releasing your hand and then shifting nervously on his feet as he tried to find the right words. You watched him impatiently with an arched brow.

“You hadn’t done anything,” Sebastian said honestly. “I just wanted to get us out of there.”

“Well, you must’ve had some reason to hate me enough to want to cause me that much pain,” you replied bitterly.

“I didn’t,” he vowed. “I imagined that the day I brought you to Feldcroft to meet Anne – when you talked to Uncle Solomon after our fight – you sided with him. And I imagined that you would try to stop me from finding a cure for Anne. Obviously, I know that’s not true. But it was the only way I could think to want to hurt you. Even then, I…when you started screaming…” He squeezed his eyes shut as if in pain. “I don’t think I could do it again. I still have nightmares about it.”

You nodded in understanding. “So do I,” you admitted.

Sebastian knew he had caused you immense pain that night. He loathed himself for it. He had lost his nerve the second you started screaming, though the curse had still crackled between you and the door for what seemed like an eternity afterward. He had never considered, though, that it haunted you like it did him. “Merlin, I’m so sorry. I…I didn’t know,” he said. His eyes had welled with tears.

“I think it’ll help – knowing what you were thinking, I mean,” you said. “In the dream, you just don’t stop. Not when the door melts away. Not when Ominis begs you to. The pain goes on and on until I wake up.”

“I swear I’ll never, ever hurt you again,” Sebastian vowed. He couldn’t bear the thought of all the pain he had put you through. The curse alone was bad enough. But having to relive the torture in your sleep? More than ever, Sebastian regretted not insisting you learn the curse to cast it on him, instead.

“You’d better not,” you said light-heartedly. “Now let’s keep moving. We’re almost to the den.”

You reached the nest of the knarls with only a few spider hatchlings to dispose of during the rest of the trek.

The den was in the middle of a grassy patch. Moonlight filtered in through gaps in the cave ceiling. Several knarls scurried about, fleeing into their nests when they saw you and Sebastian approaching. You two filled a satchel with shed quills. It was tedious work picking up the tiny spines, and you were admittedly thankful you didn’t have to do it alone.

“That should do it!” you said. “Now, we’ve just got to get back out of here.”

Sebastian quickly spotted an exit from the cave right by the nest. “Why didn’t we come in this way?” Sebastian asked as you walked along the gravel path.

“I didn’t remember it was here,” you admitted. He gave you an irritated look. “I’ve been in a lot of caves, you know. I can’t remember every detail.”

Sebastian just chuckled at you. Though, his smile disappeared when you shrieked. In the darkness, you hadn’t noticed the path took a steep downturn. Sebastian yelled your name as you slipped out of sight. He jumped down after you without hesitation. You tumbled out onto a path carved between the rocky hills of the seaside. Sebastian soon slid next to you. He stood up first and extended a hand to help you. “Are you hurt?” he asked as he pulled you to your feet.

“Just a few scrapes,” you assured him.

All of a sudden, jets of light streamed all around you. You and Sebastian dove for cover as the spells blasted dirt up from the ground and ricocheted off the rocks. You two managed to scramble behind a large rock formation along the path. “I guess the Ashwinders noticed their scouts went missing,” Sebastian said.

“Or else heard me yelling when I went arse over tit,” you replied.

More spells flew overhead. They were coming from the ruins atop a nearby hill.

“Cover me,” you ordered.

You popped up, and Sebastian sent a deluge of spells up at the hill.

“Accio! Bombarda!” you said, summoning one of the Ashwinders into range before blasting them back into the cliffs. Sebastian levitated another foe before slamming them back to the ground. You and Sebastian each sent a flurry of curses at respective enemies, while dodging curses sent from a third. When the other two Ashwinders were down, you both focused on the sole remaining combatant. You each sent a blasting curse at her, and the infernos seemed to magnify each other. She was taken out instantly.

“Well, that was surprisingly easy,” Sebastian remarked brightly.

The wooshes of apparating forms sounded all around you as enemy after enemy appeared in a haze of black smoke.

You sighed. “You had to say it, didn’t you?”

Before you knew it, there were a dozen Ashwinders around you. You and Sebastian quickly downed edurus potions and started firing off spells. You injured several of them, but it was difficult to focus on any particular foe with so many running around. That made it difficult to thin their numbers. You took a thunderbrew, as well. You also threw out some tentaculas. You were pulling out all the stops to try to get the upper hand. You quickly took out three of the Ashwinders, using your ancient magic to call down additional lightning upon them each in turn. You both took another edurus potion to keep your protection. A few exploding charms, blasting curses, and a severing charm later, and you were down to the last four enemies. You disarmed one, and the fire they had been summoning rained down on them instead of you.

As Sebastian dispatched another one of the Ashwinders, another wave started apparating in. There were close to twenty surrounding you now. “Well, this is just perfect,” Sebastian said sarcastically as he sent several basic casts at an animagus, forcing them back into human form. “Where are they all coming from?”

“Clagmar Castle is just over that hill. They’ve got a stronghold there,” you replied while dodging incoming spells.

You downed potion after potion – edurus, thunderbrew, and maxima. You even threw out more tentaculas and a few Chinese chomping cabbages for good measure. You threw spells, boulders, and even dark wizards you’d transfigured into barrels of explosives until you and Sebastian were the only two left standing.

You both gasped for breath. “Are you okay?” Sebastian asked.

“Yeah. You?” you replied.

“I’m fine. This better be some bloody magnificent potion Garreth’s working on, though,” Sebastian groused.

You rolled your eyes. “Let’s just get out of here before–”

More Ashwinders began apparating in around you before you could finish your sentence. Around the bend, a troll collared in goblin metal emerged on the path.

“Bollocks,” you said as you realised you were out of edurus and thunderbrew potions. You downed a maxima potion.

The troll charged you both, and you dove in opposite directions to avoid its attacks. It caught Sebastian’s side with a swipe of his club, and he flew high into the air before landing hard on the ground.

You focused on the troll first, while dodging attacks from the dark wizards. You dodged another swing of its club before flipping it back into its own face with a knockback jinx. While it was dazed, you sent spell after spell at it. In your rush to attack the creature while it was vulnerable, you didn’t see the duellist behind you. They blasted you with a reductor curse as you dealt a final blow to the troll. It knocked you forward as a burning pain spread through your back. You yelled in pain. You landed on your stomach, but you quickly rolled over despite the agony it caused. You cast a protection charm just in time to block their next spell.

Sebastian disengaged from the executioner he had been duelling to focus on your attacker. “Confringo!” he yelled, blasting them off their feet. “Accio! Incendio!”

Sebastian cast a severing charm that separated the witch’s head from her already lifeless body and both thudded to the ground. His eyes were filled with pure rage.

Just then, a bolt of green light coursed through the air, hitting Sebastian in the leg. For a brief, terrifying moment as he crumpled to the ground, you thought he’d been hit with a killing curse. But as he cried out, you knew he was alive. For now, at least.

“Reducto!” you yelled, blasting the executioner back, but, somehow, he was still standing.

You scrambled to your feet as the three remaining Ashwinders began to close in. Sebastian was still writhing in pain. “Now this has become personal, you little brat,” the executioner growled.

“Like lambs to the slaughter,” another wizard said.

“I'll put some flowers on your grave,” the third said, chuckling darkly.

They froze when a loud roar came from behind you. The ground shook as a large beast leapt into view from the cliffs and sprinted forward. The wizards shrieked, but their cries were short-lived as the massive graphorn trampled them. Sebastian yelled in fear as the graphorn rounded on him.

“No!” you yelled.

The graphorn turned and headed straight for you.

“Hey, you stupid monster!” Sebastian said, raising his wand as he struggled to his feet.

“Sebastian, don’t!” you yelled, lunging to get between the wizard and the beast.

The graphorn growled behind you.

“Get out of the way, MC!” Sebastian yelled.

“Stand down,” you ordered before turning to the large beast. “Easy boy. He’s on our side.”

The beast instantly relaxed. You reached out a hand to pet his muzzle. He nuzzled into your shoulder, closing his eyes as you stroked his neck.

“You know this overgrown lizard?” Sebastian said, flabbergasted.

The graphorn huffed.

“He didn’t mean it,” you said soothingly. “This is the Lord of the Shore. He was part of my final trial with the Keepers. Lord of the Shore, this is Sebastian. He’s my friend.”

“So, we’re back to being friends now, are we?” Sebastian asked.

“I’d say we’ve been through enough tonight to merit it,” you replied. “Speaking of, do you have a spare wiggenweld? That reductor curse bloody hurts.”

“Yeah, here,” he said, limping over to you. He handed you a phial before downing his own.

You grimaced as you downed the brew. You hoped you never had to take another potion in your life, as you felt near bursting with how many you’d had to drink that night.

“We should get moving before the next wave finds us,” you said as you mounted the graphorn.

“You want me to ride that?” Sebastian asked in disbelief.

The Lord of the Shore growled.

“No offence,” Sebastian added quickly.

“The nearest usable floo is in Bainburgh. Unless you brought a broom, then your only other option is to walk and face whoever you find along the way,” you said, holding out a hand to him.

“I’ll take my chances,” he said stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Sebastian, just get on!” you urged.

“Ugh, fine!” he relented.

He grabbed your hand and mounted the beast behind you.

“You can pet him if you like,” you offered.

“I think I’ll pass,” Sebastian replied, looking horrified by the idea.

You rolled your eyes. “Suit yourself. Now hold on,” you said.

For a moment, Sebastian didn’t know where to place his hands. He eventually decided on holding onto your hips. His face flushed as he settled in behind you. It was a rather intimate position to be in.

“All right, boy, Sebastian’s not used to this, so unless we see any dark wizards, let’s start nice and–” The Lord of the Shore started out in a sprint, making both of you yelp. “SLOW!”

You held onto the graphorn’s neck, while Sebastian clung to you with his whole body as he yelled ineffectually.

“No need to race now, my friend,” you said nervously.

The beast continued on at full speed.

“Slow down now,” you said, willing him to listen. He did not.

“Is he always like this?” Sebastian asked as the graphorn crashed through barricades blocking the path.

“No, he’s normally much calmer,” you replied, yelling over the rushing wind. “I think you offended him.”

“Offended him?” Sebastian roared.

He shrieked again as the Lord of the Shore leapt into the air over another set of barricades. The beast landed on the ground with a hard thud that nearly bounced you both off. A few remaining Ashwinders attempted to slow the massive animal, but he mowed them down.

He crossed the bridge toward Bainburgh, then deviated down to the beach.

“Where are you going? We need to get to the floo!” you said, but the graphorn trekked on. “Stop! Not through the–”

The Lord of the Shore splashed through the creek, soaking you and Sebastian.

“…water,” you said dismally as the beast continued splashing his way down the stream. You gave an exasperated sigh. “Thanks for that.”

Sebastian, who had gotten a mouthful of water due to his screaming, coughed and spluttered. “Okay! I’m sorry I called you an overgrown lizard!” Sebastian said. “Just let us down!”

The Lord of the Shore slowed to a walk, and you breathed out a sigh of relief. “There’s a lad,” you said, patting his neck. “Are you done with your tantrum now?”

The animal growled at you.

“Guess not,” you quipped.

“Sorry,” Sebastian muttered when he realised he was still wrapped around you. He quickly went back to holding your hips.

“Oh, erm, don’t…don’t worry about it,” you said, a blush rising to your cheeks.

The Lord of the Shore kept a leisurely trot toward Bainburgh. It was rather bumpy riding bareback on a graphorn, even when he was just walking. Every step the beast took was making your arse bounce along Sebastian’s front. He had his eyes squeezed shut and his teeth digging into his bottom lip as he tried not to be hyperaware of the sensation.

He tried to push himself backward to put space between you two and end the maddening friction.

“Ow! Sebastian!” you said as his hands dug into your hips. “Enough with the death grip! I promise you’re not going to fall off.”

His cheeks flushed as you glared at him over your shoulder. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. He looked like a scorned child as he stared down, avoiding eye contact with you. Eventually, Sebastian was still able to shift his hips back enough to stop his suffering.

“Merlin, I can’t believe the sun’s starting to come up!” you said as you noticed the light peeking over the horizon. “I guess it’s been a longer night than I realised.”

“Time flies when you’re having fun,” Sebastian joked. “Or, you know, fighting for your life.”

You laughed. “I’m gonna squeeze in a bath and a nap before defence against the dark arts when we get back,” you said.

“Maybe Professor Hecat will give us a free period if we tell her we fought two dozen dark wizards and a troll,” he joked.

You laughed. “Wouldn’t that be nice?” you said. “Thank you for your help tonight, by the way. I don’t know what would’ve happened if those Ashwinders had found me alone.”

He smiled, but there was a sadness behind it. “Anytime,” he said.

He was relieved when you reached Bainburgh and he could finally dismount. “Thank you for rescuing us,” you said, patting the graphorn. “I’ll come visit you soon.”

The beast chuffed happily. He even gave Sebastian a lick before setting off.

“Ugh, that’s disgusting,” he groused once he was certain the Lord of the Shore wouldn’t hear him.

You just chucked. “At least he likes you now,” you replied. You threw floo powder into the green flame. “Room of Requirement, Hogwarts.”

You whirled through the floo, appearing almost instantly in the familiar room. You stepped aside and Sebastian whooshed into the room a moment later.

“You know, I was hoping that he’s not the only one who’s forgiven me,” Sebastian replied. “I really am sorry.”

“What for?” you asked.

“All of fifth year, basically. But especially cursing you,” he replied. You had almost forgotten about your earlier fight. “I should’ve insisted you or Ominis cast the curse on me. It was my fault we were trapped down there.”

“I don’t think either of us would’ve preferred that,” you said honestly. “It’s not a night I’d wish to repeat, but…we did what we had to. All three of us would be dead otherwise.”

Sebastian ran a hand through his hair anxiously. “What if Ominis was right? What if we could’ve found another way?” he argued as he began pacing. “I mean, I didn’t even try. Not bombarda or confringo or finite incantatem. I didn’t do anything to try to protect you.”

You shrugged. “You were focused on helping Anne,” you said simply.

He turned back toward you. “And I’ve used that as an excuse to hurt too many people,” he said. He looked at you imploringly. “I just…I want you to know that I really am trying to change.”

You pulled him into a tight hug. “I know, Sebastian. And I’m glad you are.”

Sebastian melted into your embrace. Of all people, he needed you to accept him. If you could see all the parts of him you had and not run away, then perhaps there was hope for him yet. If you still saw good in him, then he would continue to believe it was there.

Sebastian pulled back to look at you. “I was really scared that Ashwinder was going to finish you off,” he said gravely.

You nodded in understanding. “I thought that executioner hit you with a killing curse,” you admitted. “I was terrified that I’d…I’d lost you.” You cleared the emotion out of your throat. “I mean, you’re a git, but…I don’t know what I’d do if you were gone.”

He gave you a crooked smile. “You’ll always be stuck with me, I’m afraid,” he said.

“That doesn’t sound like such a bad thing,” you replied.

Sebastian bit his lip. He looked uncertain about his next words. “MC, I realised something…when I thought you were going to be taken from me,” he said. “I…I don’t want to never have told you…”

“Told me what?” you asked, prodding him to continue.

He took a steadying breath. “Well, you see, I…I like you…as more than a friend, I mean.”

You stared at him in disbelief.

Sebastian shifted uncomfortably as the silence stretched. “Could you…say something?” he asked. “I mean, it’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I know I haven’t treated you the best. But I swear I don’t just see you as a means to help with Anne or defeating goblins. I really do care quite–Mmph!”

You had crashed your lips into his. The kiss was brief but passionate. “The feeling’s mutual,” you said, beaming at him.

Sebastian, though he had been caught off guard, recovered quickly. He reconnected your lips, kissing you fiercely as he pushed you back against the wall. He gripped your robes in both hands as he pinned his body against yours. You gripped his strong arms as you returned his fervour, sliding your tongue across his bottom lip teasingly before delving into his mouth. He had the coppery taste of a hard-fought battle, and it spurred you on as you thought again of how close you’d been to losing him.

You were the one to break the kiss as your lungs burned, begging for oxygen. “We should get what sleep we can,” you said, and Sebastian reluctantly let you go.

“Right,” he said as he recollected himself. “Well, maybe we could…go to Hogsmeade this weekend?”

You smiled. “Only if you promise there won’t be any trolls,” you joked.

“I’ve always thought you handled them quite well,” he said playfully. “But I’ll scope it out beforehand to make sure it’s troll-free.”

“Then it’s a date,” you said, unable to stop grinning. “We could go visit the Lord of the Shore after, too! He’ll probably even let you ride him alone.”

“Erm, yeah. Course. Brilliant,” Sebastian replied uneasily.

“Only joking!” you assured him.

He breathed out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank Merlin!”

A/N: Not me headcannoning that Garreth invented gigglewater. Also, the cave is modelled after the phoenix cave, just in a different part of the map now. That whole entrance/exit thing is true in the game, and I felt the need to include it in this story.

#sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x m!mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian x mc #sebastian sallow fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow x reader

[kaleldobrev]

We're Endgame

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!reader

Summary: Although you’ve been out of the hunting game for years, Dean manages to suck you back in when you are recruited in pretending to date Sam for a case

Original Prompt: Requested by @fuiabarcelos | I was thinking of something inspired by Taylor Swift's "End Game". Years ago, the reader used to hunt with the Winchesters. Sam and she clearly loved each other, he was always super romantic and certainly wanted something more. However, she was afraid of not being able to express her feelings. Years later, they go back to work together and have to pretend to be a couple in a town where all the women seem to pay attention to Sam. She finally manages to express how much she loves him, because she wants "be your end game"

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Mutual Pining

Authors Note: I really hope I was able to give this request justice ♡ | If you want to request something, just send me a message! | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Sam and Dean were sitting in the Bunker kitchen, each with a cup of coffee and a laptop in front of them. As the two of them sipped on their coffees, it was Sam who was the first one to speak. “I think I might of found us a case.” Sam said, turning his laptop around for Dean to look at the screen. “Five sets of couples have disappeared over the last five months. All on the same day. All from the same town.”

“Werewolf?” Dean asked, raising a brow as he examined the news article.

“That’s what I thought at first too but, not only does the lunar cycle not fit, none of the couples bodies were even found.” Sam explained. “So, that means no autopsy reports to even double check with.” Sam turned his laptop back to re-face him. “From my research, all the couples that have disappeared were last seen on the 25th of each month, which is a little over a week from now. I figure, if we leave now, we may actually be able to stop another couple from disappearing.”

“Is there a pattern for the couples? I’m assuming there’s at least some kind of pattern.” Dean said, taking a giant sip from his mug.

“From what I can tell, all the couples started out as best friends who eventually ended up together.” He explained. “The last five couples have all been a man and a woman.”

“Sounds a little similar to that Vanir case me and Y/N worked while you were off on your little escapade with Meg trying to find dad.” Dean said, Sam simply rolled his eyes. “Speaking of Y/N, do you think she’d be willing to come and help us out? You and her seem to almost fit the profile. Except for the parts where you guys aren’t from that town or together yet.”

“No, we aren’t going to ask her to help us.” Sam closed his laptop, getting up from the kitchen table with his empty mug.

Dean looked at Sam, raising a brow in confusion. “Why not?”

“Why not?” Sam scoffed. “Let’s see, oh yeah, she quit hunting Dean. I’m not dragging her back into something that she was actually able to get out of.” Dean opened his mouth to speak, but Sam quickly stopped him. “No Dean.” He said before leaving the room.

“Don’t worry brother, I got you.” Dean mumbled to himself as he started to dial your phone number.

It’s been years since you had talked to or seen either of the Winchester boys. It was something that you had told yourself that you needed to do in order to stay out of hunting completely, despite how much it killed you inside not to talk to them. To be far though, the Winchester’s weren’t the only ones that you had cut out, you had cut out all of your hunting contacts. The Winchester’s though, were the contacts that had hurt you the most to cut out; they were like family to you once. So many times over the years you had pictured yourself calling them up, asking them how they were, but you had stopped yourself – you didn’t want to get dragged back in to a life that you were thankful that you made it out of.

You hadn’t seen the boys in almost four years, the last time you had seen or talked to them was when Sam had said yes to Lucifer. The only reason you had known Sam had come back from the pit was because Dean had left you a voicemail. “Sam’s back Y/N…He’s…He’s back…I know you quit hunting but…I just wanted you to know.” The voicemail from Dean was short, sweet, and to the point. Upon hearing it, there was a thousand thoughts running around in your mind, unsure of what to do. You had wanted to call Dean back, asking him where he was so you could come and meet him; so you could see Sam again. But it had been over a year, a year of not hunting, a year of coming to terms that you were never going to see Sam again, a year of regretting not admitting your feelings. As much as it hurt you not to call, you knew that it was for the best.

“I know it’s no secret the way I feel about you Y/N, and I know that you feel the same way about me.” Sam had said to you, one of his hands cupping your cheek. “Before I say yes, I wanted to tell you how…out loud…how I felt about you.” He leaned down, inches away from your lips; you had felt your breath hitch.

“Sam…” You wanted to look away, but you couldn’t, you had found yourself just staring into his eyes the same way he had been staring into yours.

“I love you Y/N.” Sam admitted.

There was a strong part of you that day that had wanted to admit to him how much you deeply loved him, how he was the first person you had let yourself be able to fall in love with. But for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to admit to him, even then, when you knew that it would be your only chance to tell him how you had felt.

You were sitting in your living room, watching TV with a hot cup of tea in hand watching some random cooking show. It was a simple pleasure that you had found once you had decided to stop hunting; never really being interested in them before when you were on the road. You felt your phone vibrate next to you, and you felt yourself jump slightly, not expecting a phone call from anyone – especially since it was your day off from work. Looking at the caller ID, you felt your heart skip: Dean Winchester. A name that you thought you would never see again grace your caller ID.

You were hesitant to pick it up at first, afraid of the reason as to why he was calling you. You had hoped that he was just calling to catch up, and not inform you that Sam was dead. You sighed, bracing yourself. “Hey Dean.”

“Hey Y/N. Long time no talk.” Dean said, his voice sounding incredibly joyful. Upon hearing that, you felt your body start to become less tense, as you had hoped that Dean wouldn’t be sounding this happy if Sam were dead.

“Not a hunter remember?” You said. “So…why are you calling?” You heard Dean sigh on the other end. “Dean?”

“I uh…I was calling to ask if you could help me and Sammy out on a case. It’s about an hour away from you and…you and Sammy seem to fit the vic profile.” Dean explained; at least he was upfront about his intentions.

“Dean…” You sighed, trying your best to try and come up with a reason as to why you couldn’t go, since ‘not a hunter anymore’ was something that Dean clearly was not understanding. “I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” It seemed as though for some reason, Dean wasn’t giving a choice not to say no to hunting with him and Sam.

“Fine. Where do you want me to meet you guys?”

“I can’t believe you dragged Y/N into this.” Sam said, his voice clearly sounding frustrated.

“You’ll thank me later brother.” Dean grinned.

The boys were currently inside of a local diner, Dean had told you to meet them at the diner around 9, and it was currently 8:45. Knowing how punctual you were, he knew that you would be strolling into the diner any minute now. As if almost on cue, the diner bell rang on the entrance door, and Dean couldn’t help but look at Sam, giving him the biggest grin. “Your lover’s here.” Dean joked. Sam turned around quickly to look at you. Despite not being able to see your face, he couldn’t help but feel his heart ready to burst out of his chest. As if you could hear him, you had turned around just then to face him, giving him a small smile. Upon doing this, Sam quickly turned around, re-facing Dean.

Once Sam turned around, Dean saw how your face that once had a smile, turned slightly sad. “I think you hurt her feelings.” Dean said, taking a large bit from his pancakes.

“Great. She hasn’t even been here five minutes and I’m already making her upset.” Sam mumbled.

“Hey boys.” You said, walking up to the table. As soon as he heard your voice, Sam looked up at you; your face turning into a slight smile again. “Can I sit?” You asked, pointing to the seat next to Dean.

“Su-” Dean began to say as he started moving over.

“You can…You can sit here.” Sam said, moving over.

“Thanks.” You said, your voice sounding awkward as you took a spot next to Sam. “So…tell me more about why you boys dragged me into being bait.”

“I’m sorry again. Truly.” Sam said, his words were sincere. Whenever he spoke to you, you always believed every single thing that he had said to you, despite knowing his tells when he was lying. He had grabbed the zipper that was on the bottom of your dress, slowly starting to zip you up. His hand was going a lot slower than you had expected him to go; but you weren’t complaining – the brief contact was enough for you. “I asked Dean not to drag you into this but…you’re the only one that…remotely fits the profile with…me.” His last sentence almost seemed as if he was embarrassed to admit it.

“It’s alright.” You hoped your voice had sounded just as sincere as his, but you knew it probably didn’t. As much as you didn’t mind helping out the boys, you were more upset that they had dragged you out of retirement.

Once he finished zipping you up, his hands had found themselves placed on your shoulders as the two of you briefly stared at each other in the mirror. “It’s not.” He stated. “You were able to get out, it’s…it’s not fair to bring you back in.”

You turned around, leaning up against the bathroom counter, his hands moving themselves to either side of your waist on the counter. “Sam…” You began, looking up at him, your hand playing with the bottom of his tie.

“Yeah?” He asked, leaning down a bit.

There was so much that you had wanted to tell him in that moment. “I love you so much. I’m sorry I didn’t say it all those years ago.” Was what you had wanted to say. But the only thing that came out was, “I-” You didn’t even get to finish your sentence before the bathroom door had opened, revealing Dean who was currently fixing his tie – you and Sam looking at the older Winchester like a deer in headlights.

He raised an eyebrow. “Am I interrupting something?” He smirked.

“Nope,” you said, straightening yourself up; Sam removing his hands from the counter to let you go. “Not at all.” You finished, moving past Dean quickly as you exited the bathroom, leaving Sam there by himself.

“Well, I’d be more than happy to show you around.” The woman said, slightly grabbing at Sam’s tie, almost in a similar fashion as you had done before in the bathroom.

Sam chuckled nervously. “I uh…I don’t think my girlfriend would be uh…particularly happy about that.” He said, making a gesture toward you, his voice nervous. The woman followed his gaze, and they both laid their eyes on you happily laughing away with one of her guests, your hand gently caressing his shoulder. The woman couldn’t tell if the motion you were doing was flirty or not – a part of her was jealous. Sam knew what you were doing, the motion wasn’t remotely romantic, it was just something you naturally did whenever you spoke to people – especially people you had wanted to get information out of.

The woman turned back, no longer looking at you, but more intensely looking at Sam. “She would never need to know.” She winked, her voice sounding more seductive now.

“Listen, Missus –” Sam began to say.

“It’s Miss.” The woman corrected.

“Miss. Clayton –”

In that moment, before he could continue, Sam had seen you walking toward him and the woman with two glasses of champagne in your hands. He had felt such a relief. “I’m so sorry honey. But Mister Baxter over there was just telling me about his classic car collection. Did you know he has over twenty classic cars?” You tried your best to feign interest, as you handed Sam one of the champagne glasses. “Oh!” You said quickly, turning toward the woman. “You must be Missus Clayton.” You held out your hand.

“Miss Clayton.” She corrected, removing her hand from Sam’s tie to shake yours.

“Did you fix my boyfriend’s tie here? It did look a little messy before.” You asked, full well knowing that was not what she was doing. Despite it looking like you had your full attention talking to Mister Baxter, you were also able to have your attention on everything that Sam had been doing. Part of being an effective hunter especially when it came to working with partners, is that you had to make sure that you were keeping an eye out on all of your surroundings.

“Oh yes, yes.” She lied. “I think it looks much better now.” Her voice nervous. “You said Mister Baxter has a classic car collection with over twenty cars?” You nodded. “I think I’m going to go and talk to him about that.”

As soon as she was out of earshot you began speaking to Sam. “You get hit on a lot?” You asked, genuinely curious. “I’ve counted at least four or five women that have hit on you since we talked into the door.” You looked down at your watch. “And we’ve only been here less than an hour.” You took a sip of your champagne. “Makes a girl little jealous.”

Sam couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sometimes. But, not nearly as often as it’s been here.” He admitted, he too taking a sip from his drink. “I hate to change the subject but, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, anything.” You were afraid of what he was about to ask.

“What were you going to say in the bathroom earlier?” You took a large sip of your drink, this was the last thing that you had wanted to talk about right now, especially during a case.

“You clean up nice.” You lied.

“Y/N.” His voice was stern, slightly sounding disappointed.

“Fine.” You took a deep breath. “Something I should have said to you years ago.” You started playing with the rim of your glass, no longer making eye contact with Sam.

“What?” He asked, even though he had a pretty good idea about what you were going to say to him.

“I love you Sam.” You finally admitted. There was a part of you that had felt relieved to have finally said it, but yet, there was a knot in your stomach. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it all those years ago. I just…I wanted to but…” You looked down at your glass, your drink half full. “I don’t know I just…Froze.”

“Hey,” he began, tilting your chin up to make you look at him. “You don’t have to apologize.” There was no reason for you to in his mind, despite the way you had felt. When he had told you that he loved you all those years ago, yes, he had wanted you to say it back, but there was another part of him that also didn’t expect you to say it back. For him, just telling you how he felt was enough for him.

“I know you probably don’t feel the same way anymore but…I just needed to tell you.” You weren’t sure if it was already too late to tell him how you felt; it had already been four years.

“My feelings for you never changed.” He admitted, his admission slightly surprised you; as you were expecting him to tell you ‘thank you for telling me, but I no longer feel the same.’

“They haven’t?” You asked, surprised.

He shook his head. He moved his hand now, so it was slightly cupping your face. “No,” he began. “No matter how much time has passed, my feelings for you will never and can never change.”

Your lips were inches away from each other now. You could slightly smell the champagne on his breath. “You mean it?” You asked, making sure that his words were as sincere as they always had been.

He nodded. “Yes.”

“By the way,” the two of you leaned in closer. Although you two weren’t the only ones in the room, in that moment, it was simply just the two of you and no one else. “You and me…” You slightly struggled to get the words out. “We’ve always been endgame in my mind.”

“Mine too.” He agreed, closing the ever so tiny gap now that was between the two of you with a kiss. An action that he had wanted to do for as long as he had known you, an action that you had wanted to do as well.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 If you'd like to be added to a tag list, let me know!

#sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #spn #supernatural #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #sam x you #sam x reader #female reader #reader insert

[cupids-scream-queen]

A Little Murderess °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀*

❀ female!murderer!reader x poly!ghostface ❀

Part 5 // 2.8k words

-> Part 4

Warnings: stalking, breaking and entering, p in v, actual sex (woo), choking, slight daddy kink, cheating, idk there's SEX in the SLASHER fic it's not gonna be vanilla 😭💀

A/N: No threesomes yet guys, sorry 😔

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Summary: You've just moved to a new town after the death of your little brother and stepfather with your mother. You're not ashamed of what you do to cope with the deaths; especially when you make two new friends who you might have more in common with than you thought...

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“Y/N,” Sidney hissed, tapping her pencil on the desk lightly. “Whatcha doing this weekend?”

“Not much,” You whispered back, looking up from your paper. It was Mrs. Tate’s day off, which meant worksheets upon worksheets and you were getting increasingly bored from it. Sidney was too; she was bugging you nearly the entire time, asking you various questions or pestering you about your weekend plans. You almost wanted her dead. Almost.

“Do you want to sleepover at Tatum’s with me?” She asked, and you shrugged.

“I’d have to ask my mother,” You replied, knowing that you’d just tell her your mother said no. You weren’t really in the mood for Tom Cruise this weekend—you were more interested in something more sinister. That Sidney and Tatum most definitely weren’t going to want any part of.

“Damn, any chance she’d say yes?” Sidney looked at you, almost pleading with her eyes for you to say anything that would convince her that you’d make it. You weren’t sure why she was so clingy, especially to you, of all people—she should be running away from you, not towards you.

“I’m not sure,” You tapped your pencil against your face, watching the substitute teacher read a book about Sherlock. “It depends on her mood.”

“When doesn’t it depend on her mood?” Sidney joked, and you shrugged. It was something that wasn’t quite the truth, but also wasn’t a lie—your mother was relatively passive about your whereabouts in general, but sleepovers were another game entirely: she preferred to keep you at home overnight.

“I honestly can’t answer that,” You admitted, and she looked sympathetically towards you.

“You’ve got a lot in common with Billy,” she mused, and you took a note of that—a piece of information about Billy that you could use against him should he betray you. You hadn’t really gathered anything on Stu; he was more of an open-book, and you could assume what he didn’t want people to know about he simply didn’t talk about. He had money to pay people to forget.

“What?”

“I shouldn’t have said anything, but he’s got it real bad at home. Mom left him and stuff, dad’s a bit of an alcoholic,” Sidney said, and you almost had to strain to hear her voice. You took a mental note of this, though—Mr. Loomis might be key information for blackmail against Billy, should he try anything with you. You were more afraid of Billy than Stu—Billy was quieter, and seemed to ponder over things more than Stu ever did. Billy thought meticulously, Stu acted impulsively. Together, you couldn’t quite imagine what they were capable of.

“My mom’s an alcoholic, but she’s not that bad,” You told her, and you could see her almost loosen her borders around you. Good. She’s trusting you, that’s something you could use to your advantage later.

“Good lord, that sounds awful,” Sidney’s sympathetic nature was something that you were going to try to capitalize on. You didn’t want to kill her, but simply use her. She was a useful alibi, stupid and naive. Trusting people. People like you, who shouldn’t be trusted.

“It’s not that bad once you get used to it,” You tell her, and you could tell she was wondering if she should ask you something. “Why?”

“Maybe you could talk to Billy about it,” She said quietly. “Tell him how to cope. I think it makes him upset, even if he doesn’t let people know.” There it was. Bingo. Permission to hang out with her boyfriend without her, even though you’d do it anyways, you felt like it’d cause less issues if she told you that you could.

“Maybe. I’m not sure if he likes me, he’s kind of quiet around me,” You tell her, and you could practically see the gears in her head turning.

“You could probably give him a call, I’m sure he wouldn’t care. Or you could stop by Stu’s house, he’s usually there,” Sidney told you, and you nodded your head.

“I can try to help him, sure,” You could see the grateful smile she gave you, and you could see that something with Billy’s behavior put a strain on their relationship—which you weren’t even sure was real on Billy’s end. You saw the way he looked at other girls, in ways that he didn’t look at Sidney with, and you knew that he wasn’t thinking of her at night, he had someone else in his thoughts. Be it Stu or somebody else entirely, you knew that Sidney was not the one he had in his heart. If he even had one.

“That’d be great,” Sidney’s hope and trust were placed in you, officially. She was going to trust you, and you wanted to learn everything about Billy through her. The only other person you’d need now on your side was Tatum, but you figured if you went to the sleepover, they’d have to talk about boys eventually. That’s how sleepovers work, right?

“Maybe I will go to Tatum’s,” You mused, and Sidney had an excited gleam to her eye that you hadn’t really seen before.

•❃°•°❀°•°❃•

Ever since you figured out the identity of Ghostface, Billy and Stu hadn’t tried calling you again. You were kind of sad about it—the phone calls were fun, but you guessed they figured out someone else they’d try to murder. You sat on the edge of your bed, and decided to dial the phone number for Billy Loomis, killer extraordinaire. Before you could entirely dial the number, you heard a knock at your window. And then popped the head of Billy Loomis, on a ladder, straight out of a scene from Heathers.

“What in the name of JD—”

“Thought you were schemin’,” Billy said, grinning wildly. “Figured I could help you.”

“Where’s Stu?” You asked, bemused at the fact that Billy’s conjoined twin was missing.

“At home, his folks are home for once,” Billy didn’t look sympathetic for his friend at all, which you chalked up to him being a fucking weirdo. “I came here out of boredom.”

“Not out of admiration for your Knife Girl?” You joked, and you could see a glint in Billy’s eye that you hadn’t seen before.

“Maybe it was out of admiration,” He said, going through your window. He walked closer to you, and you could smell the desperation.

“Oh? And why would you admire the Knife Girl?” He smiled at your question, and got closer. You could see every pore in his face.

“Because you’ll let me do this,” He said, and pressed his lips against yours. You didn’t move at first, your body was stiff as a board. But Billy put his arms on your shoulders, grounding you to reality, allowing you to realize that this was happening, and nearly unprompted. “And you’ll like it.”

You couldn’t respond with words, just with actions. You knew Billy was attractive—and maybe a part of you even found him attractive, but you weren’t going to do anything about it. And maybe he was using you, but you’d use him back, and his body pressed up against yours made you really think of that. You began to melt into the kiss, and Billy moved his hands to your hair, forcing you closer. You could feel the tip of his tongue dance on your lips, and his other arm beginning his way up your shirt, tenderly asking permission.

“What about—”

“Shh, don’t say her name,” Billy said on your lips, and you obliged. You didn’t want to think of her, this was your moment. And Billy was seemingly enjoying it as much as you were. He held you against him, breaking the kiss. You could hear his heartbeat in his chest, and it was practically reaching out to touch you.

“You do this. You make my heart like this. Why?” Billy asked, and he suddenly ripped you from his chest. “Why?” His grip was tight, and you didn’t know what to say. “I—I don’t feel like this. Nobody but you and St—” He grew silent, and you reached out and touched his cheek.

“It’s alright, Billy. You’re fine. You’re human.”

“Am I? Are you?” You didn’t have the answers. You were certain of you being human, despite what you’ve done. And Billy, well, he was human—he was lustful. Prideful. Everything a human was and could be. “What am I even doing here?” He hung his head in shame, and you had no words of comfort.

“I’m not sure, but you’re here for a reason, aren’t you?” You watched as confusion, anger, hatred, embarrassment, everything cross over his face in the span of seconds. He wasn’t making an attempt to hide his emotions, and you were grateful for that.

“Maybe, I don’t know—I came here on an impulse,” He held you, gently. You weren’t sure of what was happening, your head fuzzy and confused. You weren’t thinking clearly, and neither was Billy—something alien to both of you.

“Are you lying to distract me?” You said quietly, and Billy looked at you with puppy dog eyes. You were afraid of what he’d do, but then he crashed his lips into yours.

“Does this feel like I’m lying?” Billy asked, pressing you against your bed, his figure on top of you. He moved your hands above your head, holding them down with one of his hands. He used the other one to hold your face still as he kissed you roughly, his body grinding against yours in a way that you hadn’t felt before. He moved down to your neck, kissing the exposed skin and sucking lightly. He playfully bit you, and you moaned, the sound driving him to continue to bite and suck his way down to your collarbone.

“Can I take this off?” The question made you pause, before you nodded your head. He pulled your shirt off, tugging at the fabric impatiently. He took your bra off in one sweeping motion, leaving you to ponder if he’d done this before, before he expertly took your nipple in his mouth, biting and sucking at the sensitive bud. He then moved his way back up to your mouth, a clash of tongues became the next move, him releasing your hands and burying his arms around you, holding you close to him. You moved, your hands wrapped around his.

“Is it alright if I…” He asked, and you nodded. You wanted him. And he clearly wanted you.

“I’m on birth control,” You whispered, and the glint in his eye let you know that he wouldn’t have cared either way. You giggled as he struggled to take off his shirt, his hips clashing against yours, his skin against yours. He hushed you, playfully wrapping his hand around your throat; a warning.

“You’re gonna be good,” He said, and then started to nip at your neck. “And I’m going to enjoy fucking you, aren’t I?”

“Yes, Billy—”

“Daddy. Call me Daddy.”

“Daddy. Yes Daddy,” You said, your breath hitching. Billy started moving his hands lower down your body, and you could feel his fingers tease your panties. “Oh god, please.”

He laughed, and obliged to your request, his cool hand slipping into your panties. You could feel him circle your clit, his hand large and rough.

“You’re so wet…” You shuddered, and he laughed, staring you directly in your eyes. “I’m going to make you forget about everything.” He put one finger in you, and without warning, he added another. He was furiously fingering you, pleasuring your clit with his thumb. You didn’t have any time or warning before he did this, and he ducked his head to suck on your tit. You moaned, your thighs clenching around his hand, your hands finding their way to his hair, pulling softly.

“Keep quiet and I’ll reward you,” Billy drawled, and you quietly tried to not make any noise, as he was furiously trying to leave hickies on you, in places only he’d see. “You’re gonna be a good little murderess for me, aren’t you?"

You said nothing, your body being stimulated by Billy’s fingers. How your body craved his; how he recipricated everything you felt tenfold. Billy took his fingers out of you, and you whined at the loss. You gyrated your hips against his, and to your dismay, he held them down, preventing you from moving against him.

“Look at me, doll,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “I want you to look at me.” You did as you were told, and your breath hitched as you felt the head of Billy’s cock against your folds. “I want you to remember this, babe.” You nodded, your body responding to every touch like you were lit on fire. Billy’s warmth engulfed you, it was everything that you could think about.

Billy kissed you as he slipped himself fully in, and you felt your eyes prick with tears at the sudden intrusion. You tried to get used to the discomfort of his cock, stretching and prodding places you hadn’t even explored yourself. Reaching into every part of you, taking you as his.

“You…you feel so good,” You said breathlessly, your hands tangled in Billy’s hair, his thrusts becoming more and more bearable as you got used to his size.

“You’re so tight, but so wet for me,” He growled, and you nodded. Just for him. Only for him. He was pleased with your body, it was a work of art to him. He started to thrust faster, his rhythm rougher and less capable of placing. His pattern was losing control. He slipped a hand on your clit, and started playing with the slick on it. His mouth was slightly agape as he watched you, enjoying the look of pure pleasure that came across your features.

You felt yourself coming closer, but you weren’t sure if he’d let you come. You needed to, the tension burning up in your lower abdomen. You could feel the warmth starting to take over your body, your head nothing but an empty void devoid of thought; the only thing on your mind was the pleasure Billy was giving you.

“You’re close, aren’t you, love? Your pussy is practically squeezing the cum out of me,” Billy said, his tongue slightly out of his mouth as he concentrated. “I want you to cum after I do, understand?” You nodded, anticipating his release into you.

You wouldn’t have to wait long. He started going faster, his cock practically digging itself deeper and deeper within you. He moaned, his body pressing up against yours as he came, his hot seed spilling everywhere, filling you up. You came only seconds after, your pussy clenching down on his dick, milking him of every last drop. You needed more of him. All of him.

He grinned, and you smiled back, your eyes clouded over, your face nothing but pleasure, and he felt satisfied knowing he did that to you, knowing that you’d think of Ghostface and think of the Best Fuck of your Life.

“Billy?” You asked, and he smiled at you, almost begging you to tell him what he wanted to hear. But you didn’t tell him what you wanted to hear. “We should…we should clean up.”

•❃°•°❀°•°❃•

After thirty minutes of taking time to collect yourselves (and your clothing), you and Billy arrived at a pretty stable plan, all that was needed was Stu.

“He’ll be available to talk probably tomorrow, his folks don’t stay in touch much,” Billy explained, circling the address. “I guess if we do everything right…we should be able to knock Sidney and Tatum off in one go, and have you as the sole survivor of a vicious attack. Pretty grim, ain’t it?”

“I guess. Who’s going to call, who’s going to kill?”

“I’ll call, Stu’ll kill Tatum. Then Stu’s gonna call, and I kill Sid. You’ll just be battered and confused, you could say you went to grab a film or some shit.”

“Not a bad alibi, but what if we’re questioned why we didn’t go together?” You mused, and Billy paused for a moment.

“Tatum and Sid were scared because of the attacks, and you volunteered to go,” He finally said. “And since you’re new, you would’ve barely heard of any of the attacks, so it’d make sense why you went.”

“Works for me, I guess. What do I get out of this?”

“The enjoyment of killing? I dunno, you’re the one who asked to be included on this.” Billy started gathering his things, glancing at the time. “I gotta go, my dad’s gonna kill me if he finds me out past curfew.”

“The Billy Loomis has a curfew?” You raised your eyebrow, tauntingly. He hushed you, and started to inch his way towards your window where his ladder was.

“Yes, I do, doll,” He said, kissing you on the lips. “I’ll call you tonight, yeah?”

“Sure. Will it be you or Ghostface?”

“You’ll find out.”

Enjoy my writing? Please like, reblog, or follow me! The support is super encouraging, especially since I'm going to make this a longer fic and post nearly daily 💕

-> Part 6

♡ Want tagged every time I upload? Just send me an ask 💕💕

Tags:

@citrusbunnies

#billy loomis x reader #ghostface #ghostface x y/n #billy loomis #ghostface x reader #scream #stu macher #stu matcher x reader #stu matcher x you #slasher community #slasher fucker #slasher smut

[misshoneyimhome]

Hey for intern! x Willy maybe a guy asks intern out infront of everyone and she can't really say no cause she doesn't want people to catch on to her seeing anyone and William is fucking pissed. Bonus points if the girls make her go out on this date and Willy is following them. Just shows up after the date and fucks her silly saying she is his

Oh yes, bb! 😉 So I chose to combine this ask with this one, as I thought it might go well together... hopefully you get my idea 🙈🤍 cause yes, that scarf is for multiple purposes 🙌🏼🙃

Warnings; 18+ smut; fingering; unprotected sex (p in v), mild bondage?

Word count: 3.2K

・✶ ｡ﾟ

Everything that kills me makes me feel alive I William Nylander 🖋️⚡️ [intern x willy]

"Hey, the boys are on their way," your manager announced just before you positioned yourself with your phone ready to capture the Toronto Maple Leafs players arriving for tonight's home game.

"Great, I'm all set," you simply replied, smiling as you then awaited their entrance.

This was easily one of your favourite tasks as an intern, even if it wasn't officially part of your job, you were always happy to step in when needed. Watching the guys stroll into the arena in their best attire was nothing more than a visual treat.

First up was John Tavares, looking sharp in his classic outfit with grey dress trousers, a light blue shirt, a matching tie, and a beige blazer.

Then next came Max Domi, opting for a slightly less formal look without a tie and sporting a slightly unbuttoned shirt with a relaxed vibe.

"You're looking good, Maxi," you said, flashing him a sweet smile, which earned you a cheeky wink in return.

Following him was William Lagasson, sporting a more casual look with a beanie, shooting you a quick smile.

And finally, your secret crush, William Nylander, entered the scene. He wore a dark blue suit with white stripes, giving off an almost Italian mafia-esque style, complemented by a pair of trainers and a sleek grey turtleneck shirt. His long blonde hair was slicked back, AirPods in his ears, while casually holding his phone. You had to mentally remind yourself not to stare too obviously – but that was easier said than done.

Shit, he was gorgeous.

However, what caught your eye about his outfit tonight was the small silky scarf elegantly wrapped around his neck.

And as he neared, William noticed you behind the camera and couldn't resist glancing up from his phone, flashing you a confident smirk.

You were aware that when players entered with headphones, they usually preferred not to be disturbed, staying focused on the upcoming game. Yet, as William approached and seemed to be heading your way, you simply couldn't resist.

"Looking quite good, Don Juan," you chuckled lightly, playfully winking at him.

"Seems like you're a fan?" he quipped, lightly tucking on the fabric around his neck.

"Well, they didn’t nickname you 'Willy Styles' for nothing," you teased, gesturing towards his scarf and then back at him.

"Happy you like it..." he spoke softly, ensuring no one else was nearby before whispering, "I always want to look good for you, just like you always look so damn good for me, baby."

In that moment, a tender connection passed between you, causing a rush of sensation that forced you to discreetly clench your thighs together, as you felt your beating vagina almost cream your knickers.

William's smile always had that effect on you. And especially since you'd become more intimately involved, he knew precisely how to push your buttons.

God, you hated him for it. Just as much as you loved him for it.

However, you had to brush off his playful remark. It wasn't suitable given the situation – you were at work, and your "situationship" had to remain casual and at distance.

"Come on, lover boy, keep it moving," Calle Jarnkrok then chimed in from behind as he too entered, prompting William to offer you another wink before sauntering away towards the locker room.

It was one of those moments where you wished you and William could openly flirt. He looked incredibly handsome tonight, and you couldn't help but feel an intense desire for him. But you simply couldn't act on it.

And neither could William.

Despite his habit for pushing the limits, he also knew where the line was drawn. And every passing day made it harder for both of you to maintain composure and professionalism, especially given the increased numbers of time you’d slept together by now.

However, tonight wasn't about either of you.

It was about Captain John Tavares and his 1000 points ceremony, which swiftly diverted your attention from your feelings for William.

And the night turned out to be fantastic. Despite the busy atmosphere for you and the rest of the staff, it was an incredible experience. Even with the loss against the Rangers, the arena buzzed with energy, and the crowd cheering loudly for the players.

Then following the match, the cheers gradually died down as the players headed back to the locker room, and you and your co-worker Melanie found yourselves engrossed in lively conversations with the team's family and friends.

Which wasn’t unusual for you to do. Over the past few months, you’d grown rather close with many of the partners, just like most of the staff members had done as well over time. It was simply a result of spending so many hours, days, and weeks together as a team and a crew.

And this closeness also led you to get to know one of Stephanie and Mitch’s friends, Jared. He'd been around the rink for a while now, and you'd had a few conversations while he’d waited for Mitch to finish training.

Tonight, however, Jared decided to take things a step further. Finding you both attractive and intriguing, he boldly asked you out on a casual coffee date - in front of everyone.

To say you were surprised by his sudden interest would be an understatement. And what made matters slightly worse was recalling that just last week, you had told Steph you weren't seeing anyone at the moment, as you hadn't wanted anyone to know about your forbidden relationship with player in number 88 on the team.

So, standing there, in the hallway with all eyes on you and the handsome man before you, you felt trapped and uncertain how to respond. Yet, naturally, Steph nudged your side, offering an encouraging expression.

"Come on, y/n…" she whispered with a light chuckle, and you knew you had to give in.

"Sure, why not," you flashed a bright smile at Jared, prompting excitement from Stephanie and a few other girls.

However, not everyone shared the enthusiasm about your answer.

Across the room, William's intense gaze bore into you. His eyes aflame with emotion, jaw clenched, his hand formed into a fist as he processed your acceptance of Jared's invitation.

It was the first time he had truly considered that your secret relationship wasn't just something hidden; it also meant the potential for you to openly date someone else. Someone with whom you wouldn't have to sneak around, keeping things casual and under wraps.

He felt jealous.

No, he felt more than just jealousy. He was frustrated, envious, and almost angry at the thought of you being with someone else. The mere idea of another person touching or kissing you turned his stomach.

But despite his attempts to come off as calm and composed, his reaction didn't escape the notice of his close friend and teammate.

"Hey, take it easy, Willy," Calle said softly in Swedish, making sure no one else would understand. "We all know you care for her, but she's not yours to date."

William knew his friend's words were meant to be sensible. Yet, he couldn't shake off the irritating feelings he had about you and Jared.

And the irritation persisted into the following day, where William was aware you had plans to meet Jared for a coffee date. Yet, despite his efforts to distract himself during morning skates and weightlifting workouts, thoughts of you with another man still lingered.

So, instead of heading home, although he knew it might seem immature and a bit of a douche bag move, William decided to go to the coffee place where he expected to find you with Jared. And as he queued up, hearing your beautiful laughter resonate through the room, he tried his best to remain hidden form your view. However, he did purposefully eavesdrop while waiting for his coffee, overhearing your conversation. He listened intensely as you shared your aspirations about your career in marketing and public relations, your upcoming completion of education, and your desire to travel to Europe.

William's heart sank as he almost froze upon hearing Jared mention his wish for a family and how you, too, had thought about a future with children. It was something William had dreamt about as well – having a family of his own.

It was a moment where his worlds collided as the barista called out his name, jolting him back to reality – he was a Toronto Maple Leafs hockey player who wasn't allowed to share his dreams with the one he desired the most: you.

Gathering his thoughts, he then took his coffee and quietly left the shop just before he stole a glance in your direction, but you were too engrossed in conversation with Jared, oblivious to his presence.

And as the evening passed without any word from you, William grew increasingly anxious. Had you developed feelings for Jared? Was his chance with you slipping away?

The uncertainty ate away at him.

And not receiving a response to his texts heightened William's urge to remind you of something.

Meanwhile, across the city, you had just finished a shower, contemplating your day as you blow-dried your hair.

The date with Jared had been pleasant, yet you couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. He was nice, shared your interests, and had a great sense of humour, but there was no spark.

It was nothing in comparison to what you felt with William. And it made you realise that perhaps you'd never experience the same emotions for anyone else.

This revelation saddened you a bit, especially considering you still had six more months of your internship. And what if the MLSE offered you a position afterward that you couldn't refuse, limiting your options? Or what if William ended up moving to another team? It would of course solve the forbidden aspect of your relationship, but it could also mean that he’d have to move far away from you.

The thought of various potential outcomes in your future, none of which involved being with William, made you feel queasy. And you knew you had to remind yourself that despite the enjoyment, it was temporary. Nothing more could ever happen.

That was until your train of thought was abruptly interrupted by a knock on your front door, and without much consideration, you went to check who it was, wearing nothing but a towel.

And as you cautiously opened the door, you were greeted by the sight of your handsome Swedish lover standing in the hallway.

“Willy,” you said softly, slightly surprised, as you opened the door fully. “What are you doing here?”

His expression appeared serious as he confidently stepped forward, invading your personal space.

“I've come to remind you of who you belong to,” he said in a dark and husky voice, entering your studio apartment and closing the door behind him.

You were taken aback. You had never seen such a serious and smug expression on his usually cheerful and flirtatious face. Yet, it intrigued you, and a small gasp escaped you as he drew closer, wrapping his arms around your slender body.

"This we don’t need," he murmured seductively, his fingers deftly undoing the knot of your towel before resting firmly on your hips.

Your arms instinctively reached for his chest, then slid up to encircle his neck as his hands found your bare ass, lifting you effortlessly into his embrace, where you wrapped your legs around his hips in response.

This had almost become routine by now. Your mouths met in a fiery, passionate kiss, tongues intertwining as you both lost yourselves in the moment, while he carried you towards the bed, your lungs emptying for air.

And as he laid you down, a large smirk spread across his lips as he admired your curvaceous figure before him.

Your eyes locked intensely with his, conveying nothing but pure desire. Thoughts of Jared were long gone from your mind, completely consumed by the man standing before you. Anticipation coursed through you, your body tingling in sheer eagerness for what he had in store for you.

And with a mischievous grin still playing on his lips, William retrieved a small piece of fabric from his pocket - the scarf you had commented on during his arrival yesterday. He had been thinking about something since your brief shared moment the previous night, and tonight felt like the perfect opportunity to bring it to fruition.

"Hands above your head," he commanded firmly, and you complied without hesitation.

You were aware of William's penchant for asserting dominance, but tonight, it seemed to intensify a notch. As he leaned over your exposed body, he skilfully used the scarf to bind your wrists together securely.

“Willy,” you moaned softly, your eyes fixed intensely on him.

“Shh, baby, I promise I’ll do you good,” he whispered darkly into your ear. “Far better than he ever could.”

Another soft gasp escaped you as he left you lying on the bed, your senses heightened as his fingers tenderly caressed your skin. Standing by the foot of the bed, he then undressed himself to his boxers, his gaze never leaving you, making the atmosphere charged with intensity even though he had barely touched you.

“You look fucking incredible like this... completely naked and ready for me,” he spoke roughly as he knelt on the bed, spreading your legs further with his body.

"Yes, Willy... I'm ready for you," you cried out softly, trying to maintain your hands where he had commanded.

But William noticed your desire to move your arms. So, while positioning himself over you, he held your wrists down with one hand, teasing the inside of your thighs with the other.

The anticipation was almost torturous, something William was well aware of. Your restrained whimpers escaped your lips as your breathing grew incoherent.

His gentle touch left you yearning, until you felt his fingers teasing you through your folds.

"Oh, yes, baby, so wet for me..."

And more soft cries escaped you as you felt him painfully slowly slide two fingers inside your entrance, gradually stretching your walls.

"Yes, Willy... Please, more," you pleaded, and with a smirk on his lips, he granted your request.

Thrusting deep into your core, he worked his fingers, slightly curling them to heighten your pleasure before withdrawing, leaving you feeling void and empty.

"What?" you cried out in disappointment.

"Not fun to be teased, huh? How do you think I felt when I saw you on a date with someone else..." William's voice carried a tinge of frustration as he pushed his fingers inside you once more, pumping a few times before pulling them out completely.

"Willy... please," you gasped, feeling thoroughly teased. "I only want you..."

The fusion of your words and cries seemed to captivate his thoughts, prompting him to release your wrists. And then he stood up, shedding his boxers to unleash his pulsating cock, already dripping with pre-cum from being aroused all day, consumed with the desire to fuck you senseless.

Then returning to the bed, he knelt down, seized your legs, and forcefully drew your hips closer to him. Placing your feet on his shoulders, he positioned the head of his cock at your entrance before pushing forcefully inside you.

"Fuck!" You let out a loud moan as he thrust deeply and vigorously into you, finding a steady rhythm.

"Yeah, that's it baby! You belong to me," he uttered with a deep breath, continuing his relentless pounding, causing your cries to intensify, as he maintained a strong and unyielding pace, not even allowing you a moment to adjust. However, your juices provided him easy penetration.

It was all so overwhelmingly stimulating; your mind struggled to focus as William's body connected with yours, his hands securing your ankles against his chest.

"You're mine, understand?"

The room echoed with moans as sweat glistened on your skin. And though you desired to move your hands, your body had surrendered entirely to the man driving into you, and you sensed the impending rush of a powerful orgasm about to peak.

However, just as William felt your walls tightening around him, indicating your imminent climax, he decided it wasn't how he wanted you to reach that peak.

Abruptly, he then halted his motions, swiftly withdrawing and releasing your legs. Leaning over you, he untied the scarf, before swiftly turning you around onto your hands and knees and entering you from behind.

"Fuck, yes!" You moaned as he pounded deeply once more, feeling the entirety of his cock filling you.

But for William, this still wasn't enough. With his right hand seizing your hair and his left arm enveloping your torso, he pulled you onto your knees, your back against his chest.

The tug on your hair was gentle, not forceful, and soon his hand shifted, wrapping softly around your neck to steady you against him while he continued his passionate thrusts.

And instinctively, your free hand sought to grip him while the other held onto the hand supporting you around your body.

In this intimate position, your bodies pressed together, exchanging warmth and sweat as William's member glided in and out of your wetness. His lips and teeth found the sensitive curve of your neck, prompting you to lean back, resting against his muscular chest.

"Willy, I'm about to come," you exhaled heavily.

"Me too, baby… come with me," he moaned against the sensitive skin of your neck.

And in just a few more thrusts, both of you surrendered to the sensations, closing your eyes in sheer pleasure as orgasms rippled through your bodies. Minds went blank, and the room filled with loud, ecstatic moans, as he shot his cum into you, your legs trembling, on the verge of collapsing were it not for William's firm grasp keeping you upright.

And instead of letting go, he held you close to him.

Not ready to part from your embrace, he kept himself buried inside of you, ensuring his release covered your walls completely. Then with a deep grunt, he slowly pulled out. You could almost sense the mixture of fluids trickling down your thigh as he gradually separated from your body.

A comfortable silence filled the room as you both, still breathless, disentangled from the position, and William gently guided you to recline with him on your backs, pulling you in for a tender cuddle.

And while resting in his arms, your head nestled on his shoulder, a thought suddenly struck you, prompting you to gaze up at him.

"Willy?" you softly inquired, meeting his eyes.

"Uh-huh?"

"Did you follow me on the date?"

William paused for a moment, acknowledging how it might seem a bit stalker ish. But he couldn't really deny the truth; he had indeed followed you.

"Yeah..." he admitted tentatively, locking eyes with you. "I'm sorry, y/n/n… I know it's not right for me to ask this, especially since we can't be public about our… you know, relationship. But I just can't stand the thought of you being with someone else..."

His breaths were heavy as he poured out his heartfelt confession, and you couldn't help but smile lightly, taking in his words.

"Willy, I don't want to date anyone else… I meant it when I said I only wanted you," you reassured him.

"So, does that mean... we're, like, together?" he asked with a soft smirk.

"I suppose it does," you replied, flashing him a wide smile. “But still in secret of course…”

“Of course,” he whispered softly, before sealing your announced relationship with a soft kiss.

#my asks #intern x willy #18+ #william nylander imagine #wn88 imagine #nhl hockey imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #nhl smut

[davidlcki]

payment

pairing:low honor! arthur x reader

warnings: cursing, arthur is mean, being forced to drink, age gap, game typical violence. i think that’s it

summary: your parents take a loan from strauss, and when they can’t afford it, they send you off as payment instead. it’s a 3 day journey back to the van der linde camp. will you turn the notorious gunslinger soft?

an: please let me know how you guys feel about this one! i’ve been dealing with severe writers block so this took me MONTHS to write. it might not be my best, but i’m just happy to get something out. enjoy, i love you all! ❤️

words: 5,562 (my longest yet i think)

part 2

shouting from downstairs violently ripped you from your deep sleep, and quickly, you hopped out of bed. your hands shook as you slowly opened your door and made your way to the top of the steps.

“the money. NOW.”

you flinched at the harshness of the man’s words. instantly you knew it was the debt collectors, and that your family had nowhere near the amount needed to pay it off. you listened to your mother and father plead with the man for another week, but he wasn’t having it. at the sound of a gun cocking, your legs began to move on their own. you were bolting down the stairs.

“STOP! please, please don’t hurt them!” you hold your hands out desperately, standing between the man and your parents, who were dead silent. the man paused, the anger in his features seemed to be replaced with amusement. this was the moment that you recognized who this man was. you had seen him in many bounty posters around strawberry, he was arthur morgan.

“well now, why didn’t ya tell me about this fine young lady?” arthur’s gaze drifted from you to your parents, who were looking at each other with a look you couldn’t read. nervously, you looked between your parents and arthur. why weren’t they saying anything?

“she’ll do as payment just fine” arthur shrugs, holstering his gun and giving an easy smile, as if this was no big deal, just another day. you turned to your parents quickly, shaking your head and backing away from arthur.

“please don’t…” you looked between your mother and father desperately. finally, your father speaks.

“take her. if it works as payment, take her.” time seemed to slow as you stared at your father who wouldn’t look you in the eyes. your mother was looking down, you could tell she was holding back tears, but she stayed silent.

“what? wait, wait just-” you glanced at the door quickly, thinking of ways to escape. arthur, was quick to place his hand on his holstered gun.

“i wouldn’t, if i were you.” arthur’s voice was suddenly much lower, and his easy smile was gone in an instant. you knew there was no other way. you turned to your parents, lips in a flat line as you stared at them. you were thinking of what you could possibly say to them, when arthur’s rough hand had a grip on your upper arm.

“your own daughter…for some fucking cash…” your voice was shaky as you were being pulled towards the door. barely having time to slip your boots on, you give your parents one last look before you were out of sight.

for a while, it was silent. you were too in shock to cry or do much of anything, but think.

“we’ll camp here for the night” arthur’s voice startled you out of your thoughts, most of them being how to escape this situation. for now, he had at least some form of trust in you, considering your hands were untied.

arthur morgan was more of a myth than a person, to you. you heard the stories of the hundreds he’s killed and you knew this was probably a bad idea, but you needed to try an escape. once he hopped off his horse, you grabbed onto the reigns and kicked your heels into its sides, but it didn’t budge. the damned horse stayed dead still. the air seemed to thicken as you continued to attempt to get the horse to take off with a series of ‘hyah’s’ and ‘go’s’, but his horse was loyal, seeming to listen to him and only him. when you looked over, you swore you saw flames in arthur’s eyes.

plan b.

from the horse, you deliver a kick into arthur’s chest with all the power you could muster. just as his horse, he dosent budge. arthur lunges forwards, pulling you off the horse roughly and ignoring the protests coming from you as he threw you over his shoulder. you pounded relentlessly on his back, but he didn’t so much as flinch. instead, he tightened his grip on you, nearly squandering your ability to breathe. once finding a clearing about 30 feet into the woods, he throws you onto the grass and pulls out his lasso. you take a few seconds to catch your breath, but you don’t have time to move or get any words out. effortlessly, arthur ties the rope around your wrists and ankles before you could flip over, rendering you immobile.

“bastard! you let me go!” you finally manage to turn yourself onto your back and struggle against the rope that dug into your skin. arthur, clearly unamused at your shouting, sinks down to your level on the ground. his hips were nearly straddling yours as he kneeled and grabbed your face with a rough hand.

“watch it girl.” his voice was drawn out and easy, giving you the impression that he’s done this many times before. he releases his grip on your jaw, and brushes a strand of hair from your forehead. “don’t forget i know where you live. dont try nothin’, less you’re fixin’ to watch your parents die”.

“i don’t…. i don’t care about them anymore. they sold me. pawned me like trash.” your voice was shaky as you spoke up at him, and for a while the both of you sat and stared at each other, heavy breath fanning over your faces. arthur almost had a look of understanding for a moment. it was true. you were angry at them for so carelessly giving you away for their own benefit. in fact, you didn’t know who you were angrier at. arthur, or your own parents. finally, arthur hums and stands. you didn’t dare move from your spot on the ground, instead, you silently watched arthur set up camp. you really were afraid that he’d kill you if you so much as moved. you could see in his eyes that he was only going to let that trick you tried slide once.

you shivered and let out a ragged exhale, still catching your breath as the wind was knocked out of you not long ago. you were desperate for fire, for any kind of warmth. you were only in boots and a thin nightgown, that did much of nothing as the cold from the ground seeped into you.

“cold?” arthur stands next to your shivering frame on the ground. you say nothing, instead giving him an unamused glare. you refused to let him see you cry, so you threw on your best angry facade. you stiffened as he leaned down and lifted you, not letting out a breath of air until you were put down again. now, you were resting against a tree in front of the fire. you let out an inner sigh of relief at the warmth. arthur sits across from the fire, taking a bite of jerky from his satchel.

“so, that’s your parents farm huh? pretty nice, all considering.” arthur pauses, but you say nothing. “live there your whole life?” you didn’t even really hear his question as you asked your own.

“where are you takin’ me?” you watch arthur’s face carefully as he takes a drag from his cigarette.

“you’re joining the gang” arthur flicks the end of his cigarette, the ashes slowly float to the ground. “we need more hands. more people to help fight.”

“i’m no good at fighting” your voice was quiet, you were starting to realize you weren’t getting out of this.

“you will be. now,” arthur stands up and pulls more rope from his horses satchel “rest up, got a long day of riding tomorrow” you scoff as he begins to wrap the rope around you and the tree you were against.

“is this necessary?” arthur says nothing, instead pulling the rope tighter. after, he goes back to his spot, pulling his hat over his face and letting out a rather large sigh. for a long time, you didn’t sleep. instead, you relentlessly tugged and pulled at the rope restraining you. you knew it was pointless, but you couldn’t help trying. your face twisted in pain as your arms scratched against the rough tree bark. arthur must have been very confident in the knots he tied, because you very quickly heard soft snores drifting from across the fire. after what seemed like hours, and a few shed tears, you fell into a restless sleep.

•••

when you awoke the next morning, arthur was up, packing supplies into his horses satchel and humming to himself softly. you stayed silent, observing the man who was so mean to you do a task so mundane. when you looked down, you noticed arthur’s brown coat was thrown over your frame. it smelled like tobacco and gunpowder. when arthur noticed you were up, he quickly took his jacket back and went over to untie the rope holding you to the tree.

“morning sunshine” he throws you a smile as he pulls the rope from around the tree off, along with the rope on your ankles.

“i trust you won’t run”

“no” your voice was hoarse and you shivered violently as the wind attacked your bare skin that was previously covered. arthur stopped, thinking for a second as he took in your frame with a slow look from your head to your ankles and back up again. he pulls you to your feet, letting you catch your footing on wobbly legs as he rummaged around for his canteen. he flicks the cap off and grabs your jaw so roughly and suddenly that you let out an involuntary gasp of shock. he turns your face towards him and inspects you for a second before continuing. you could only wonder what he was thinking, his lip twitching ever so slightly into the ghost of a smile as he continued.

“drink” he puts the canteen to your mouth and watches as you desperately gulped down the water. after about 5 seconds, he pulled it away, taking a swig of the liquid himself before stowing it back on his horse.

“long ride ahead,” arthur lifts you onto his horse before hopping in front of you in the saddle, “gonna take a few days i reckon, so get comfortable”.

arthur wasn’t lying. you rode all day, so long that you couldn’t remember what direction you came from or how to get back home. although that outcome was unlikely now. desperate to escape the cold, you pressed yourself against arthur’s back. you felt him stiffen at the contact, but were too cold to care. you couldn’t count the hours it’d been, and for a while you were pretty sure you fell asleep. throughout the day, you only made a few stops. one for bathroom breaks, and one for his horse to rest. the rest of the day was a blur, not much was said, and the only noise you heard was the trotting of hoofs on the ground and the rustle of trees in the wind. when the sun began to set, arthur finally pulled to a stop.

“seems like a good spot” arthur observes the clearing, giving you a stern look before hopping off of his horse, remembering the stunt you pulled last time.

“gonna tie me to a tree again?” your voice was dripping in sarcasm as you allowed him to pull you off the horse.

“you gonna make me?” arthur’s tone matched yours as he pulled out his bedroll and some other supplies. you waited for the extra rope to come, but it never did. arthur instead unties your hands, then reties them in front of you. you audibly sigh at the discomfort that began to dissipate, and you rolled your shoulders a few times in satisfaction.

“y’ dont wanna run off in these parts,” arthur warns as the fire lights up the clearing. “the people will get to ya before the animals do.” you said nothing in response. for a few hours, you stayed dead silent. ignoring arthur’s snarky comments and nothing more than blinking when he’d toss the end of a cigarette or a twig off the ground at you. arthur began to heat a small can of stew, smiling teasingly as he watches you eye it. he pulls gin out of his pocket, downing a hefty swig.

“if you want some, you gotta speak, girl.” arthur eats a large scoop of stew, groaning dramatically in satisfaction in an attempt to tease you.

“fuck you. that enough?” arthur snorts a laugh at your response, deciding to give you a bite. you quickly chew and swallow it, savoring the taste.

“what’s your name anyway?” arthur pauses, scooping out some more stew and holding it up. “you answer me if you wanna eat.”

“Y/N. Y/N L/N” arthur feeds you the stew and downs more gin. halfway through the bottle now.

“Y/N” the way your name rolled off his tongue sent a chill down your spine. “you gotta pretty name, Y/N. how old are ya?”

you eye the man for a while, before looking back down to the tempting spoon of stew. “i’m 22. now can you feed me the god damn food?” you were getting testy now, watching arthur eat and down almost an entire bottle of gin while you’ve had nothing for over a day will do that to you.

“you got a mouth on ya!” arthur let’s out a laugh, feeding you another bite and finishing the rest of the stew himself. he stands up, stretching his legs and yawning, before walking over to you casually. nervously, you watch as arthur squats down to be eye level with you.

“sleep” a small smile crosses his face, confusing you. then, he places a hand on your shoulder and shoves you to the side so you’re in a laying position in the grass. a yelp escapes your lips as you hit the ground. “night”

you watch in disbelief as arthur goes to his spot on the bed roll, very quickly falling asleep with his hat on his face as usual. now was your turn. you thought about running, but had a feeling that arthur wasn’t lying about the people around these parts. slowly, you drifted to sleep in the damp grass.

•••

you woke up to the sound of footsteps crunching in the dead leaves. instantly you were alert. when you looked over, arthur was still passed out. you guessed the gin running through his veins was doing its work. you stayed silent, sitting up slowly and looking into the dark of the forrest around you. the fire was almost out at this point. you tugged anxiously at the ropes binding your hands. there were the footsteps again, from behind you this time. you knew those weren’t from an animal. before you could react, a man came running out of the woods. he was on you in seconds, knife in hand. you let out a scream of terror as you were slammed onto your back. you squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for the knife to be plunged into your chest, but it never came. instead, there was a gunshot that seemed to shake the forest. when you opened your eyes, there was a bullet hole between the eyes of the man as he crumpled on top of you. the weight of him smothered the cry that you tried to let out. arthur was over in seconds, shoving the body off of you and pulling you to a sitting position. there was genuine worry that you saw for a mere second in his face.

“y’ alright?” he was still blinking the sleep from his eyes as he looked you over for stab wounds. he was half awake, trying to make sense of what was going on. as you opened your mouth to speak, another man emerged from the dark of the woods. he shoved arthur over, effectively knocking the gun from his hands. you were in a trance, looking between arthur, the man, and the pistol laying right in front of you. arthur’s voice startled you out of it. his voice was strained as he called your name out, he was using all his strength to hold the knife mere inches away from his chest. with your tied hands, you picked up the pistol. it was heavier than you expected.

“do… it…” his eyes pleaded with you, meanwhile, the tip of the knife was beginning to sink into his chest. without anymore hesitation, you aimed at the attackers head and pulled the trigger. your ears rung more than the first gunshot that was fired earlier, and you noticed the almost painful vibrations that flowed through your hands. arthur let’s out a sigh of relief, pushing the body off of him and sitting up, before quickly freezing again. he stared at you blankly as you continued to point the pistol at him.

“Y/N…” he holds his hands up and shakes his head. “y’ don’t wanna do this”

you looked at him for a long while, tears were dripping down your cheeks and your hands were shaking violently. you were debating killing him right here and now. but how would you make it in there woods? how would you find your way back? then, you remembered why you were here in the first place, and how your parents threw you out without a thought. finally, slowly, you lowered the gun, arthur took this oppertunity to snatch it from your hands, before audibly exhaling. he watched carefully as you broke down in tears, hugging onto yourself the best you could with tied hands and trying to wipe blood off of your nightgown.

“hey… i uh…” arthur didnt know what to say as he placed a hand upon your shoulder in attempted reassurance. to his surprise, you threw yourself into his embrace. slowly, he wrapped his arms around your frame and listened to you cry. he noticed the red marks on your wrists under the rope, and was shocked at the pang of guilt he felt. without thinking, he takes out his hunting knife and cuts the rope off of you. you use this time to wrap your arms around his waist. arthur slowly runs a hand up and down your back as you continued to sob.

“i’m scared, arthur.” was all you could get out. you had never killed a man before, and the reality was setting in. all arthur could do was mutter an awkward series of ‘it’s alright’ and ‘i’m here’s’ until you calmed down enough to let go. arthur was almost sad at the loss of your presence, and he wished he could rip this part of him out. this part that yearned for love and affection and what he was just finding out, you. half of him screamed as he draped his coat around your shoulders, while the other half cheered.

you avoided eye contact with the gunslinger as you attempted to get your tears under control, pulling his coat around yourself gingerly.

“thank you… for not letting me be killed” you kept your eyes on the fire, too afraid to look at arthur or the bodies or the blood on your skin.

“and thank you, for not shootin’ me along with this feller” you let out a scoff, lips twitching up into a small smile you mustered up. arthur took the time to move the bodies away from camp and your sight, eventually returning and sitting down again. there was a new feeling in the air between you and the gunslinger. a bond forged in blood and death. arthur never tied your hands again, and he kept watch the rest of the night. though neither of you got another wink of sleep, you stayed close to each other, shoulders touching as you sat side by side. you asked arthur plenty of questions about his gang. you were genuinely curious what it was like. you could tell he was fond of them by the way his features softened at just the thought. you realized, they were family, and it didn’t sound so bad. after hours of trying to will the sun to come up faster, it finally rose, and you were more than glad to keep moving.

you couldn’t tell how long it’d been now. you slept for a while the way you have been, your face pressed against arthur’s back in a somewhat comfortable position, but when you opened your eyes again you were in a town. upon reading the sign, you realized it was valentine. you could hear the chatter in the distance, and your eyes lit up with surprise. it had been days since you’d seen another person besides arthur. arthur must have felt you sit up straighter, because he quickly stopped his horse and looked back at you.

“i trust you’re not gonna try no shit?” he asks, exhaling cigarette smoke from his lungs. you hold back the urge to cough as the smoke wafts over your face. he observes you for a second more before straightening your messy hair. you knew it was so you looked more presentable to the town, but it was oddly gentle, intimate.

“no, but people are going to ask questions, arthur.” you spit his name out, and reference down to your now dirty and tattered nightgown. you were upset at the shift between you both after what you went through the night before, and it was hard for you to contain your anger as you spoke. the lack of food and clean clothes was starting to get to you. arthur stares at you for a while, before sighing heavily. though he still gave you attitude, you were surprised with the patience he was beginning to keep with you.

“okay… here” after a second of thinking, he pulled his coat off and placed it around your shoulders once again. casually, the two of you trotted into town, slowing to a stop at the hotel. you ignored the stares the townsfolk gave you as you walked inside. being in a tattered gown and a jacket two big was definitely turning heads.

“one bath for the lady please” arthur tosses the owner a coin and nudges you towards the bath house. once in front of the door, he grabs your wrist and turns you towards him.

“you clean up, i’ll be right back. dont get no ideas of runnin’ off now, because i will find you.” his voice was low as he looked down at you, though you were starting to notice the facade he was putting up. the way he gently held your wrist told you all you needed to know, and unbeknownst to him, you weren’t really planning on leaving. the last place you wanted to go, was back home.

“wouldnt dream of it” your voice was dripping with sarcasm as you pulled your wrist from his grip and pushed your way into the bath house.

once you finished cleaning up, you pulled the towel around yourself and waited awkwardly, leaning from foot to foot as you waited for arthur to come back. the last thing you wanted was to put your old clothes on, so you stood by the fire and slowly dried off. finally, arthur pushed his way into the bath house holding a bag. he froze for a second as he took in your frame, only covered by the small towel. once you started walking towards him, he looked anywhere but at you as he handed you the bag. you say nothing, pulling the clothes out and dropping your towel as you began to pull them on. it was a simple brown dress with yellow detailing on the sleeves, collar, and bottom. you could tell arthur had picked it out, considering how it matched to his own clothes. there was also a new night gown in the bag, and you smiled to yourself.

“could you?” you turn away from the man who was doing most anything but look at you. when he shifted his gaze to you again, your back was turned to him, revealing an unlaced corset.

“yeah… yeah sure” arthur’s hands gingerly fiddled with the string, trying his best to will away the reddening of his cheeks as he observed your exposed back. it had been forever since he had been with another woman, and he cursed the feelings arising in him for you. you turned towards him afterwards, unable to help the smile of relief from being in clean clothes.

“you… you look nice” arthur looks down at your dress, then quickly he turns and pulls you out of the bathhouse with him before you can utter a ‘thank you’.

“you hungry?” arthur wasn’t really asking as the two of you headed towards the saloon, though you almost cried tears of joy at the thought of food. with a glance to the clock on the wall, you realized it was already 6PM. the scent of food that floated through the saloon nearly made you drool. eagerly, you sat at the bar and waited for your steak and potatoes that arthur ordered to arrive.

“2 whiskeys please” arthur tosses a few coins at the bartender who nods in compliance.

“oh i… i don’t drink” arthur looks at you straight faced, sliding the shot glass to you.

“drink” his eyes stayed trained on you all the way until the shots were taken, the burning liquid slides down your throat roughly. arthur let out a hardy laugh as you coughed, instantly digging into your food as it arrived to get rid of the taste.

“another” arthur tosses more coins, not batting an eye when you protest.

“i’m not drinking anymore, arthur!” you glare in his direction angrily. arthur pauses for a while, before leaning in close and bringing the shot to your lips.

“drink the damn whiskey girl.” his voice was low and gravelly as he parted your lips with his thumb, before tilting the shot glass forward. nervously, you swallowed it. this moment reminded you that you were still technically being kidnapped by him, and that he wasn’t messing around. arthur smiles a little, taking his own shot.

“good girl.” you silently turn back to your food, eating slowly and trying to keep track of the amount of shots he was taking. eventually it became too many to count. luckily, he didn’t make you take anymore, too preoccupied with himself.

“arthur that’s enough, let’s go” it had been an hour now, and arthur was shitfaced. the wooziness you had began to feel went away quickly as you scarfed down your food. “you’re drunk”

“am not” arthur smiled lazily, attempting to order another drink, but you snatch the coins from his hand and tell the bartender we’re done. arthur gets up angrily, towering over your frame that was still sat on the stool. he opens his mouth to speak, but instead bumps shoulders with another man who was walking past.

“you bastard! watch it” arthur shoves the man back, sending him tumbling into another man behind him. shit.

in a flash, it was an all out fight between, well, you couldn’t count how many men. you stumbled back, trying to look for arthur in the crowd of men. finally, you spotted him falling to the ground and out of sight again. you debated for a while. do you wanna keep saving this fool? you bounced from foot to foot anxiously, cursing under your breath before bracing yourself and shoving your way through the fighting men. you dodged punches left and right, some of them had to have hit you, but your adrenaline blocked out the pain. finally, you spotted arthur on the ground unconscious.

“son of a bitch!” your voice was drowned out by the shouting, but you finally managed to hook your arms under arthur’s and drag him from the fighting, all the way outside, to the hotel across the street.

“one room please” you spoke to the clerk between heavy breaths, fishing into arthur’s pockets and pulling out the last coins he had for the room. you realized how bad this looked, so you tried to explain yourself. “i- i know him, i swear.” the clerk just nods wearily, recognizing the two of you from earlier and handing you the key. with help of the clerk, you got arthur into the bed.

the next hour or so you spent wiping arthur’s face down with any cloth and water you could find. he looked bad, face bruised and bloody, clothes ripped, you couldn’t help but think he looked beautiful even in this state. finally, you turned to the mirror to tend to your own wounds, which happened to only be a few bruises on your arms and ribs. you sigh in frustration at the new rip on the side of your dress. you almost didn’t notice as arthur began to wake.

“oh… what… happened?” arthur’s voice was slurred as he sat up slowly, wincing in pain and blinking hard.

“you almost fucking died, that’s what!” your voice was nearly bubbling over with anger as you stormed from the mirror over to him. “and so did i, pulling you out from all those men. you’re lucky i haven’t ran off or killed ya! you’re a fool, arthur. a damned fool.” you were tired of holding back your anger, you were pushed to your limit with him. arthur was looking at the bruises on your arms and your waist through your ripped dress, then up at you with the most puppy dog eyed look you’d seen on him.

“m’ sorry.” arthur’s voice was quiet as he spoke and you watched as a drop of blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth. “really, you can go. after the hell i dragged you through…” arthur scoffs a laugh and looks to the side. when you don’t speak, or leave, he looks back at you with confusion.

“i’m not gonna leave.” you paused for a while, trying to decide if this was the right decision. “i wanna join the gang.” arthur’s eyes widen at your words, but he nods slowly in response.

“i knew you’d come around” he smiles what you assumed was a genuine one. he then begins to stand, nearly toppling over on you before you grab onto him, steadying him.

“jesus, take it easy!” you push him back down into a sitting position on the bed and lean closer to his face. “i hope you have some doctors in your gang. you’re going to need stitches” you wipe at the blood on corner of his mouth with your thumb and sigh as you observe his wounds once more. when you went to pull away, arthur grabbed your wrist gently. your breath caught in your throat as you looked into his eyes nervously. you didn’t know what he was thinking. his face was unreadable. was he angry? you couldn’t tell. you opened your mouth to speak. you were going to utter your best form of apology for your assumed anger on his part, but arthur silenced you by leaning forwards and pressing his lips against yours. you let out a smothered gasp against his lips, taking a stumbling step back and tilting your head up as arthur stands again. a quiet moan of pain escapes his lips as he leans some of his weight against you. after a few moments of silence, that felt to you like minutes, you pull away, turning your head from him in uncertainty. you didn’t know what you wanted. if this was right. he was dangerous, you knew that, but something about him drew you in dangerously.

“i… i just” you tried to find the words, anything to say to him, but your feelings were like a big tangled ball of string and you couldn’t figure it out.

“i’m sorry.” arthur cuts you off, letting out a cough of pain as he backs off, limping his way to the other side of the room.

“let’s rest. we can talk about things tomorrow.” you watched in disbelief as he laid himself down on the floor by the entrance of the room, pulling his hat over his eyes and breathing deep. you could taste his blood on your lips. you took this time to change into your new night gown and toss your dress to the side. you assumed it would be trash, being unable to sew or afford a tailor.

upon crawling into bed, you fell asleep almost instantly. you missed the feeling of a bed after sleeping on the ground for days. you slept through the entire night, ignoring the throb of your bruises and the commotion of the streets of valentine. when you awoke in the morning, the first thing you noticed was that arthur was gone. the second thing you noticed, was your dress, folded neatly at the end of your bed. slowly, you crawled over and unfolded it, noticing the rip had been carefully sewn shut. with it, there was a piece of paper.

“i’m sorry for what i put you through. you deserve a choice. if you want to run with us, i won’t stop you. if you want to go back to your family, you have my word you won’t see me again.

-A”

upon flipping the note, there was the location of the gangs camp. you knew what you were going to do.

part 2

#fanfiction #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan one shot #arthur morgan fanfiction #red dead fandom #red dead redemption fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fandom #arthur morgan rdr2 #red dead redemption one shot #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 fanfiction #arthur morgan x you #one shot #x reader #i spent hours on this #van der linde gang #low honor arthur morgan #low honor arthur morgan x reader

[sgt-seabass]

Joining in on the clockwork fan train, I have a Drabble prompt if you are interested. Nick often plays fast and loose with reader’s safety, and although he’s a control freak so he thinks of everything to prevent her getting harmed (like using air rifle etc) I wonder how he might react if he goes too far/something goes wrong and she does actually get badly hurt from one of his games. Maybe playtime gone wrong or he misjudged his strength. Would he feel guilt, or shrug it off?

𝒔𝒊𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒚

pairing — mob boss!prime alpha!nick fowler x omega!reader w/c — 1.9k this is a dark fic. 18+ only. part of the Clockwork AU. listening to — ♫ sip u slowly warnings — general dark elements, smut (dubcon due to stokholm, p in v, cunnilingus), choking to the point of passing out and bruising, possessiveness, pet names (pup, puppy, omega), a/b/o dynamics, very light medical elements, reference to past minor character death a/n — i hope you like it! thank you so much for the support and interest in the Clockwork AU! written on my phone. thank you so much to @rookthorne for helping with beta and suggestions 🥺🥺💙 this was meant to be short whoops.

Nick had been insatiable, fucking you for hours and eating you out each time in-between sessions.

After a work deal had gone awry and lives had been lost, he wanted nothing more than to bury his problems in your tight heat. With your essence on his tongue, he could be absolved of his irreverence.

Nick was angry. He didn’t take to fuck ups well.

When he’d heard about an omega retrieval gone wrong that ended with the death of a few targeted girls, he was irate.

Nick had to murder his men for their actions. They were there to capture them, not kill them - professionalism was expected, mandated, in his organisation. Nick didn’t need more red in his ledger, yet it seemed to have a way of seeping in, tainting the pages and bleeding everywhere.

His temper was no more than his inner child locked in an endless cycle of self-flagellation, so he fixated on you to distract himself. He’d created you and turned you into the omega he wanted. However, the problem with manipulating is that you deny yourself the love and support that partnership provides. Nick knew he was fooling himself by thinking you were unequivocally his, so he wanted to show you how good he could make you feel.

The urge boiled beneath his skin, an unbridled need to claim you; to fuck you into oblivion.

Barely keeping himself restrained, he’d carried you to the bedroom just after dinner, and the sun had long set. His need for you continued into the early morning.

By the time the clock hit three am, you were exhausted. That much was evident by the way your eyes struggled to stay open even as you orgasmed. The little sounds Nick pulled from you got whinier and more strained the more your body tried to get its rest.

But there was no rest for the wicked, and Nick was certainly feeling sinful.

“Give me another, puppy,” Nick growled to you, face between your legs before moaning at the taste of his seed and your wet mixing.

“I’m tired, alpha. I can’t.” You whimpered, sweat dotting your brow while your back arched against the silk bedsheets. “S’too much.”

“Uh-uh. You don’t get to decide that. I’ll tell you when it’s enough, omega.” Nick’s voice reverberated against your clit before he gently sucked it, causing your fingers to fist into the sheets from the unrelenting pleasure.

This was Nick’s favourite way to have you. Crumpled from the euphoria he caused you. You’d fought so hard against him, but at the end of the day, you ended up right where you belonged.

In his bed.

Nick started slow, drawing circles around your clit before replacing his tongue with his fingers. He flicked his finger while his mouth pressed kisses along your hip and down your thigh. Nick couldn’t help himself when it came to tasting all of you, so he bit into the supple flesh of your thigh as he kept working your sensitive clit.

Your wail only served to make Nick bite again, closer to your cunt this time. Fuck, your tears were gorgeous. “Does it hurt, omega?” When you nodded in response, Nick slapped your thigh. “Use your words.”

“Ye— Yes. Hurts, alpha.”

“Mm, but you look so beautiful with my marks.” Nick looked at the teeth marks adorning your skin, smirking to himself before turning his attention back to your clit. “Tell me what you want, puppy. Tell me what you need.”

Your thighs clenched, and Nick chuckled dryly as he ground himself against the bed, his erection painfully hard. He wanted to do nothing more than fuck you senseless, but it was worth waiting if it meant he got to see you shatter.

“I need…” You stopped yourself, and Nick could see the embarrassment in your expression. It was beautiful. “I need your mouth, please, alpha.”

“Such nice manners,” Nick praised before giving you exactly what you wanted.

He drank you in slowly, running his tongue over your folds and watching how you responded. You were so tense. As if each muscle was waiting for the anticipated precipice. And Nick would give it to you, but he wanted his fun first.

Deft fingers pulled your folds apart, and Nick groaned at the sight of you. Glistening and inviting. “Such a pretty pussy, pup. Prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen.”

Nick ran his flat tongue up your cunt, starting with long, languid licks that began to gradually get faster. Nick placed a hand on your stomach to stablise you as his broad strokes got shorter, turning into quick flicks across your clit.

He didn’t stop, not tiring even as the clock ticked away on the bedside table.

The tell-tale signs of your impending orgasm started to show as Nick alternated between licking and sucking, his hand running up and down your thigh as the other held you down. Your body tensed, and it goaded Nick to go faster, gripping your flesh tightly.

Nick hummed against your clit, and the dams burst. Like music to his ears, your mewls turned high-pitched as you came, your juices gushing down his chin. Nick had lost count of how many orgasms you’d had tonight, but each one was better than the last. He’d never get sick of this.

“My puppy does love playtime, don’t you, baby?” Nick watched as your glazed eyes looked at him, surprised at the new pet name. Baby. It’s endearing. Intimate. “You’re going to sit back and let your alpha do all the work now, right? Puppies are just too silly to do anything but lay down and get fucked.”

Seeing you so raw, so vulnerable, was bringing out the beast in Nick. The further down this rabbit hole he fell, the harder it was to keep his semblance of control. If you tried to make a run for it right now, he might actually kill you, too lost in the chase of his prey to realise what was happening. But you don’t run. Instead, you shuffled a little up the sheets, so your head rested on one of the satin pillows.

You knew you couldn’t escape, so you prepared yourself to be comfortable. Nick crawled up the bed, cock standing proud between his parted thighs, and he loomed over you. “Are you scared, puppy?”

Nick smiled when you gave him an odd look like you weren’t sure what response he wanted. “You should be.”

His words were the only warning you got before he mounted you, sheathing his dick in your dripping cunt with one swift motion of his hips. Nick let out a growl, pulling out the pillow from under you so he could grip the back of your neck. “Fuck. Fuck. You feel like fucking velvet, omega.”

The teasing nature Nick had earlier was long gone, replaced with a feral alpha desperate to breed. His thrusts were deep, rutting against your hips as his heavy breaths filled the room, mixed with your moans. It was a fucking symphony.

“This little cunt is mine, isn’t it? Tell me,” Nick snarled, pounding into your sore, used pussy without resolve.

“S’yours. All yours,” you sobbed into the cool air, tears streaking down your cheeks.

“That’s right. You’re fucking mine.” Nick moved his hand to rest on the front of your neck. He tiled his head back while his eyes fluttered closed.

It was a complete state of bliss. Nick didn’t look down as he let himself be free. No control, no thoughts. Just alpha.

You moaned with each plunge of his cock, but Nick didn’t notice the way your moans were weakening under the sound of smacking flesh.

Your hands clawed at Nick’s arm, but he didn’t even register it.

It wasn’t until you went quiet altogether that Nick opened his eyes.

Suddenly, cold washed over Nick when he looked down, his hand tight around your neck and your eyes closed. Not even a squeak came from your parted lips.

“Omega? Shit. Omega, open your eyes.” Nick tapped your cheek, but you were completely unconscious. “Puppy, wake up.”

He shook your shoulders, pulling his now soft cock out of you before he placed his finger under your nose. A sigh of relief left Nick when he felt the soft blow of your breath against his skin.

Nick’s jaw clenched, guilt awash over him. He was so lost in the moment he didn’t realise he’d begun squeezing, and he’d choked you out.

Your lack of response concerned Nick, so he sat on the bed, pulling you to his chest. He cradled you, and suddenly he was like his ten-year-old self again, holding the body of his dead sister on the living room floor. “Wake up. Please. I’ll… I’ll get you even more strawberries. You love them, right?”

You didn’t wake. Still soundly asleep and unaware of your distressed alpha.

In making you vulnerable, Nick had actually exposed himself. Desperate and alone, he was nothing without something of his own. Without you.

“Beck! Bring your med kit!” Nick’s voice boomed through the mansion, a prime alpha call.

Only moments later, Beck came barrelling through the door with his doctor’s bag. His eyes widened at the sight of you in Nick’s lap, mottled bruises already beginning to spread over your neck. “What happened?”

“I didn’t realise I was squeezing,” Nick’s voice came out monotone, devoid of emotion. His heart had begun to lock down. He wasn’t ready to lose anyone else.

Beck rushed over, gently taking you from Nick and resting you back against the bed. Your alpha moved away from the bed, arms crossed and expression cold as he watched.

“She’s alive,” Beck commented. You were obviously alive, but hearing Beck’s assurance eased Nick a little. The alpha always managed to calm him down.

There was a flurry of movement as Beck checked you over, Nick watching closely, not moving from his spot. As if he were a statue, frozen by pain.

“She’s going to be fine. I think she could use an IV with some fluids, and I can do a scan of her neck if you’re really worried,” Beck sighed, standing up. “But she’s okay. We could put her in the medical bay?”

“No. She stays here,” Nick snapped back quickly. Beck didn’t flinch, not phased by the icy mood of his boss. “Do the IV here.”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll go get the stuff from downstairs if you want to get her into bed for me. Her body is pretty run down, so I imagine she’ll wake up when she’s got some energy back.” Not waiting for a response, Beck packed his things. On the way out, he passed Nick, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Accidents happen. It’s okay.”

Without further comment, Beck left, leaving Nick staring at you. He could have snapped your neck and not even realised.

Nick ran a hand over his face, the memories of his sister still fresh in his mind; he couldn’t protect her or his mother, but he could keep you safe. You were the only thing that had ever made him feel human.

After the loss of his family, he’d turned into a hardened shell. But something about you and your homely scent cracked his defences. Around you, his heart was exposed. It meant he could love with a burning intensity, but also hurt just as much.

Body tensed, Nick maneuvered you carefully so the sheet and duvet shielded you from the cool night air. You were covered in your slick and Nick’s cum, but washing you was an issue he’d resolve after you’d rested.

Waiting for Beck to return, Nick pulled up an armchair to sit beside you. He’d never let you see this side of him, not for now anyway. He wasn’t ready. But with you unaware, Nick leant forward to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m sorry, omega.”

To be updated on when I post please follow @sgt-seabass-library and turn on post notifications.

#ambs answers #cherished anons #ambswrites #clockwork au #nick fowler #nick fowler x you #nick fowler x reader #chris beck #sebastian stan #sebastian stan character #sebastian stan fanfiction #nick fowler fanfiction #dark fic

[evilbihan]

Debunking ridiculous arguments from Bi-Han haters

Bi-Han's one and only mistake was breaking his oath to protect Earthrealm. A lot of people like to jump to conclusions about him and make up the silliest excuses to justify hating on him, so I'm here to provide some much needed facts in these trying times.

"But he wanted to benefit from the soul stealer's magic that would have killed millions!"

Yes, because his loyalty is to the Lin Kuei, not Earthrealm. In his mind, he's doing what needs to be done to protect his own clan and make it stronger, even if that demands sacrifices. A good leader puts his own people first and that is essentially what he does. For Bi-Han, the end justifies the means. His cause in and of itself is not a malicious one. He cares about his clan. Part of the reason why he wants power is to protect the Lin Kuei from other threats.

Think about it, they defended Earthrealm for generations, not a single Lin Kuei has ever lived a normal life. They begin their training as children and are forced to live secluded and lonely lives. No one even acknowledges that and shows them gratitude or respect. All Bi-Han wants is for them to receive recognition for everything the clan has done. He wants the Lin Kuei to be independent, for his own people to benefit from the sacrifices they made for once. He's not some tyrant obsessed with power, he doesn't want to conquer all of Earthrealm, only for the Lin Kuei to be recognized as one of its nations as stated in his official bio.

Spoilers ahead: According to story dlc leaks, even Liu Kang admits that there's nothing wrong with Bi-Han's ambitions, just the methods he chooses to achieve his goals. What more do you need than the literal creator of the timeline confirming that Bi-Han is not "evil"?

At the end of the day, Bi-Han himself would not have killed anyone. The soul stealers belonged to Shang Tsung and Quan Chi. He never even made use of them to begin with.

If this is where the bar for being evil is at, we would have to start calling other characters evil too.

I don't know how many residents Vaeternus has, but I don't see anyone faulting Ashrah for making it her mission to kill all Vaeternians for her own purification. Absolutely no hate towards Ashrah, she's one of my favorite characters in the game, but she's using questionable methods to achieve her goals too, yet she's perceived as a "good" character because she's protecting Earthrealm. Are Earthrealmers somehow worth more than Vaeternians? I don't think so. What about Rain who flooeded an entire realm and doesn't face nearly as much backlash? Make it make sense.

"Bi-Han hates Smoke and tried to kill him."

Wrong. I already wrote an in depth analysis of the brothers' relationship here and I'm not going to repeat myself in this post, but I will add upon what we previously established. Bi-Han never once said he doesn't consider Smoke his brother, just that he doesn't consider him Lin Kuei, which is a subtle, but huge difference. In any of their intros, whenever Smoke refers to Bi-Han's biological parents as "mother" and "father", Bi-Han never tells him they are not his parents or that Tomas has no right to call them that. Yes, he doesn't call Smoke brother directly, but that's because they seemed to never have been close. Bi-Han's distrust towards Tomas is entirely justified, considering that Smoke's family died at the hands of Lin Kuei warriors. As grandmaster, it's his duty to keep an eye out for outside as well as inside threats and he might have considered Smoke one.

Additionally, there is absolutely nothing wrong with Bi-Han disliking Tomas. He doesn't owe him anything. People are allowed to dislike each other. He was a young boy when Smoke was taken in by his parents. Maybe he saw Tomas as another competitor for their attention, specifically his father's attention. Bi-Han being cold with Tomas doesn't make him toxic or abusive. He might have just never felt comfortable around Smoke, given the circumstances of how he became part of the Lin Kuei and that's why he was cold and kept his guard up around him. Every individual also has a different definition of family.

Family are the people you feel safe around, the people you trust and get along with, the people you want to surround yourself with. Siblings don't always get along and that's okay. Some don't talk in years after moving out of their family home. I'm fairly sure we all have that one relative we just don't vibe with or even cut ties with entirely. Two people just not getting along and therefore being distant with each other isn't toxic, forcing people to like someone because "they're supposed to be your family" is toxic.

As for the rock scene, I already talked about it in the post I linked above. I will just briefly say, Bi-Han did NOT kick that rock onto Smoke, it would have been impossible for him to do so and he was just as concerned in that moment as Kuai Liang was. I included the slow-motion gif of the scene here too, so you can see the proof for yourself.

See that surprise and shock in his eyes? He did not kick that rock intentionally.

"Bi-Han let his father die!"

I elaborated on this here but I will add a second explanation that is less headcanon territory.

Smoke lost his family due to Lin Kuei members not following orders, a mistake that was ultimately the fault of Bi-Han's and Kuai Liang's father. Even if the old grandmaster took responsibility for it and adopted Tomas, he is still at fault for Smoke being orphaned. Bi-Han witnessed his father's mistake and saw it as "weak leadership" on his father's side, weakness that caused the death of innocent people and a stain of shame on the clan. His mind about his father was probably already made up at that point. However, if he was truly evil and wanted his father dead, he could have killed the old grandmaster himself. We've seen how impatient Bi-Han is, he wouldn't have waited for his father to have an accident or succumb to old age. I think there's a part of him that lives with guilt and regret over letting his father die. The scene where he says "... and I was right to let him die." sounds like he's trying to justify his actions to himself, not to Kuai Liang. He also sounds hurt and angry when Johnny mentions his father in one of their intros together. I think there's a lot to unpack here but the story mode and intros don't really tell us enough.

Surely, part of the reason why Bi-Han didn't save his father was because he wanted to take control of the clan himself, but not for the selfish reasons people accuse him of. Bi-Han has the Lin Kuei's best interests at heart. He's certainly not entirely selfless but he was willing to share his power with Kuai Liang and in his taunts it's always "Kneel before us" not "before me". He always emphasizes on how the Lin Kuei will rule part of Earthrealm, not just him. His motivations are far deeper than just wanting power and so were his reasons to not help his father.

"He started the Cyber initiative!"

I don't see how the cyber initiative is a negative thing in the new timeline, given that they're just suits of armor made by Sektor that the Lin Kuei put on when they fight. No one is being cyberized against their will or otherwise tortured. No one has to die for the cyber initiative. I guess people have a negative association with it due to the old lore but that no longer applies.

I keep seeing people say "They turned him into Sektor" but that is far from true. Sektor was much more ruthless, going as far as to force his own clan members to become cyborgs and killing his own father to become grandmaster himself.

That is how a man who only cares about power would act and it's not how Bi-Han is acting.

"He scarred Kuai Liang."

Again, something I wrote a detailed analysis of already in the post I've linked above. He did scar his brother, but Kuai Liang was not only the first one to draw blood, but also attempted to kill Bi-Han in his rage.

No matter which brother's side you're on, you can't argue with the fact that they both have hit their lowest low the second they decided to shed each other's blood. Both are willing to kill each other. One brother wanted to violently beat the other's face in and the other one scarred his brother for life. You can't fault one for his actions and not the other. It would be wrong and hypocritical. I'd call them even.

In conclusion, the majority of reasons that people claim to dislike Bi-Han for don't even make sense and are absolutely baseless. They contradict any existing canon material and it's embarrassing how desperately people want to dehumanize Bi-Han and make him into some sort of horrible villian, which he canonically isn't and never was. At the end of the day, you can try and twist the narrative to match your opinions, but that doesn't change canon facts. You can claim that grass isn't green. That's not going to make the grass any less green though.

I see other Bi-Han fans trying to defend Bi-Han and argue back to those hating on him, but honestly, his actions don't even need defending. His reasons and motivations and the depth of his character are obvious enough in my opinion. People who call him a "joke villain" didn't understand his character at all and you can't reason with someone if they're being ignorant and refuse to see past their own bias.

To those who dislike him, here's an idea. Block the "Bi-Han" tag instead of flooding it with bad takes. Why bring unnecessary negativity to the community all while being wrong at the same time? No one needs that.

I might make a part 2, but I think all that needed saying was said in this post and the one I've pinned at the top of my blog already.

#bi han #bi han sub zero #mk bi han #mk sub zero #bi-han #gif warning #kuai liang #mk scorpion #tomas vrbada #mk smoke #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat 1

[jujutsukgojo]

The bell tolls for me

satoru gojo x reader

Summary: “Say it.” The few times he has spoken to you, they are always the same. He wants confirmation of your evil. No matter how you word it, he isn’t satisfied until you say it plainly and he’ll only hear the worst part of it.     He doesn’t want reason, he wants pain, hatred, and anger. It is what is keeping him going.   You will give it to him for now.  “I killed them.” 

1.5k+ words tw: angst, illness, mental illness, ptsd, depression, mentions of death, spoilers, i think suicide thoughts (?), idk what else (if there's something let me know!) i'm not an expert on mental illness or a doctor! i don't own jjk either.

Gojo wipes his face with his hand. Despite his eyes being rightfully considered divinity, they cannot beat the exhaustion. He hasn't worn a blindfold or glasses in about a couple of months or so. He can’t really remember the exact number anymore.  

   He spies a single white petal fall in front of his window. He sees pollen in the back and a few people walking around. He hears the bell toll once again. Satoru understands that the people of his past will never hear it again. They will never see the petals and sneeze from the pollen anymore.  

The bell rings again. God, he could swear that the bell is only for him.  

   “Gojo? Are you ready?” He hears a small voice that causes a heaviness in his chest and an icy hatred in his bones. You.  

He ignores you completely, making you sigh at his behavior. It isn’t a secret that he hates you and when he is up to it, he’ll kill you. All because you failed. You completely betrayed him and those who mattered most. Rather than finishing what you promised, you went against it and did something he just can’t forgive. 

You are disgusting, vile, stupid, hideous, a failure of a being.

You whip out your jar of bones and begin the healing process. Ever since the Culling Games, you have had to learn to deal with these newfound abilities that totally destroyed your life. Yet, that destruction has also given you a purpose now. The usual healer, Shoko, has been extremely busy lately because of the aftermath of the Culling Games, Kenjaku, and Sukuna. So, when you were discovered during all of that, you were immediately put to work.  

   And your abilities had fit for a plan that you messed up.  

You work your fingers to thread the crushed bones into Gojo, who remains silent. You know that one wrong move and he’ll rip you to shreds. Until then, you might as well make up for it by healing him and taking the pain away.  

Opening another jar, you take a finger out of it. In the palm of your hand, colors swirl all around. The bone reshapes into a softer and smaller structure, something easier to swallow. You hand it to Gojo, childishly hoping that he would give you something to work with. A smile, a thank you, eye contact, anything.  

   You receive nothing.  

You place it down on the desk and take your leave.  

“Was it worth it?” Quickly, you turn your head around to see Gojo still staring out the window. “You know-” 

“Say it.” 

“There was no hope, Gojo. None at all.” 

 “Who said?” Sighing, you turn to him fully. “He did, Satoru.” 

Satoru stands up. You have to try to stare into his red rimmed eyes. They’re mesmerizing jewels, precious things that see and know all. They're damaged from the strain and the pain.

 “Megumi didn’t want to live, Satoru. You can only save those who want to be saved. Him and Geto never wanted to be.” 

  “And Tsumiki?” 

“She was dead the moment she was cursed, way before she woke up. I didn’t even know her. I had nothing to do with that.” 

  He takes a few steps forward. His long legs carry him to you. He’s menacing and tall. Majestic and radiating a power that you could never handle. 

“Say it.” The few times he has spoken to you, they are always the same. He wants confirmation of your evil. No matter how you word it, he isn’t satisfied until you say it plainly and he’ll only hear the worst part of it.  

  He doesn’t want reason, he wants pain, hatred, and anger. It is what is keeping him going.  

You will give it to him for now. 

“I killed them.”  Although you went against his plan to trick Sukuna, you never meant for your actions to cause such a catastrophe. That it would cause for his world to be ruined. 

  Before he can do anything, you leave quickly. 

He finally goes into the shower after a while. The water is boiling hot and the steam is thick. Satoru stands under it not moving to bathe at first. Nothing goes through his mind other than the sensation of the water and the scars on his body. He barely has any feeling on the long scar across his abdomen. It is nothing but a reminder of you.  

  You were supposed to save them. Not him. 

And yet, here he is. Holding the weight of everyone’s soul all because you didn’t want to follow directions. He killed Sukuna and is hailed as the strongest sorcerer in history. But the glory that he’d usually bask in is a terrible thing now. Why wear it like a badge of honor when it is covered in the blood of those he loved and never got to tell them? 

   You. You fucking snake.  

Now, he has to sit here and heal. According to Shoko anyway. Whether it’s mentally, emotionally, or physically, he doesn’t know or care. He wants to leave. To be free. If only for a moment, to get away from this place and breathe. Away from you.  

  When he met you, he thought you were plain. Nothing really special except for a weird but cool technique. Then when he lay on the bed after the fight, you were the first in his sight. The light acted as a halo. You were glowing and had an ethereal appearance.  

  Even Lucifer was the most beautiful and enchanting of angels. And look what happened.  

  Look where it got Gojo Satoru.  

To find out that he had healed mid fight because of you at the expense of so many people hurt him. You had one job, only one.  

  Why did you make him kill his loved ones?  He needs to get away. A fresh start or at least some air. Yeah, that’s what he’ll do.  

 Gojo stands tall among the sand. The smell of the water is refreshing. Waves against the rocks and the white sand, the sun against his skin and the birds flying overhead, is so serene.  

  “Gojo.” Everything comes to a halt at the sound of that grating voice. He doesn’t face you yet. No, you won’t ruin this for him too.  

“You have to come back, Satoru.” You’re finally face to face with him. “Go away.” He dismisses you quickly and quietly. He doesn’t want to ruin this for himself.  

   “We have to go back.”  

“Nanami would have loved this. They all would. Maybe even Megumi.” 

He can still hear his students, his friends, too. The past life he lived as he raised the Fushiguro’s echo in his mind. Megumi was always gloomy, always. Tsumiki was a ray of sunshine with a solemn look in her eyes. She was forced to grow up at an alarming speed in order to take care of the grumpy troll. And she was never thanked. He knows that was what Megumi was thinking.  

   That he never got to thank her for loving him. For standing for him at his lowest and never letting go. Yeah, Tsumiki was amazing. And Satoru Gojo, her adopted dad, didn't say thanks, either. She would have loved the sea. Maybe in another life, he can take his kids here.

  “I want to stay. I think this is how I get back to the airport.” He hears you sigh. “I know. But you left the airport for a reason, remember?” 

“I shouldn’t have.”  

“If you didn’t, they’d be gone, too. We can’t-” He scoffs and interrupts. “We? Since when are we ‘we’?”  

“You can’t heal if you can’t see what’s left.”  

“ Nothing’s left!” He screams with his face red. You reach for his hand. “We are here. Hold onto us.” 

  The bell rings again. He wonders how it keeps following him. He looks around curiously. He questions, “The bell tolls for me, doesn’t it?” 

   “No, it’s for everyone to know the time.” You answer in a patient voice. He hates that. You talk like a doctor. There's enough of those to go around, he doesn’t need any more.  

  “Stop talking. Don’t ruin it for me.”

“What?”

“The bell is for me. I’ll be right after them, you’ll see.”

  You hold out your hand and reluctantly, he takes it. You lead him out of the street with cars honking their horns. You hold him close out of his delusion. It is his price of using too much curse energy and the reverse technique. Gojo doesn’t know that he’s not in Malaysia as he imagined Nanami would have liked. He doesn’t know the truth of his students. He doesn't realize that the airport he wants to return to doesn't exist. 

  He blames you, yes, but you’ll stick with him. He'll heal one day.  

Right now, he doesn’t understand that the bell isn't for him and hasn’t been for these past four years since Sukuna. That he has suffered so much that his head is stuck. But one day, he’ll heal, and he won't be alone. Even if he doesn't, you will hold his hand, nonetheless. 

#gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk #jjk fanfic #angst #q #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #spoilers #tw: suicide ideation #i think?

[kit-williams]

Run rabbit run

YANDERE NIGHT LORD RAPTOR TIME

Also trying out this mood board shit please lemme know if its good

tw: Yandere, kidnapping, He's a fucking Night Lord but this is pretty chill, dialogue heavy will probably have to write a follow up for this one.

He watched from his perch the screaming and the crying. But Ghosk Sevyrarek always had a good eye for the unusual like the leggy little thing sliding against the pavement. Pushing what the baseline human body was capable of... his black eyes raking over those thigh muscles as they are pushed to the limit of human ability. He watched the prey driven members of the warband rush after the little rabbit.

Oh this wasn't just a normal human he figured watching how they cleared a jump with ease as three night lords rushed after like newly turned to chaos space wolves. He rolled his eyes at the display of their mindlessness knowing full well what would happen to this darling... he blinked at the thought. When was the last time he called anything a darling....

Nostromo... He recoiled at feeling nostalgic as that would only bring guilt. His decent mood felt soured... it wasn't the rabbit's fault as much as he wanted to blame the darling. Oh she very much was a darling... a pretty thing a pretty little rabbit. He could swoop down and stop the neophytes playtime with just a quick snap of her neck like a good hunter would.

He was losing fun with the warband... Ghosk figured he would lend his services to another warband of brothers... and then another... and then another. He snarled as he eyes watched the little leggy darling. Murder and torture was no longer giving him any thrill and more and more often he found himself feeling the barest emotion of regret. Coward... he hears some foul voice in his mind whisper.

The pretty rabbit was getting tired she was struggling to make those turns... her lungs were burning up probably. His leathery wings spread into the smoke licked night sky as he dove from his perch. She couldn't do it any more! She physically couldn't run anymore and she turned to look at the three monsters with glowing red eyes and skull faces. How they howled with laughter and glee purring and cooing what they would do to her.

The pavement exploded behind her as all she had time was to look behind her... maybe maybe the Emperor did send an angel? But with the leathery wings that came out of the smoke she wondered if they were right... there was no Emperor here. Ghosk ignored the vox messages as he grinned with glee down at the little rabbit before he grabbed her and jumped into the air letting her scream in fear.

"Let go of me!" She screamed.

"Well if you say so." Ghosk cooed and dropped her watching the wind rip through her hair before he dove after her and twirled her back into his arms. "Thought about it... maybe not the best place to let you go." He say laughing.

He played this game with her flying higher and higher and dropping her or tossing her around. Her reuniting with his armor was causing her to bruise and the next time he tried to drop her he watched her cling onto him. "Aww little rabbit are you done flying with me?" He put his hands under her arms and brought her close to his face to have her nuzzle his helm.

He watched her gag at the smell of death coating him but he listened to her whimper, "Please if you're going to kill me just let me go."

"See that's the fun part little rabbit! I don't know if I'm going to kill you yet. I could... though I might not." He says landing on a building with a huff as he sits her down, delicately placing a claw under her chin, "Now if you want your death to be slow and agonizing I would recommend you move from this spot. Got it?"

He watched her nod and he pat her head like the good girl she was. "Now where was I..."

"You said you might not kill me?" His little rabbit spoke as he watched her massage those delicious legs of hers.

"Yes I might not because you little rabbit bring up pesky little memories."

She gave Ghosk a curious look. Ghosk on the other hand pulled off his helmet and shook some of his hair free. "You know you'll probably just get hair in your mouth when you put that helmet back on." His little rabbit squeaked out.

"Oh feeling a bit mouthy then pet?"

"Listen you say I bring back memories. I assume you're just going to kill me in a different way."

"Awww pet do you trust me that little?" He cooed over at her and she just gives him a 'really' look. "No I'm not going to kill you yet." He watches her roll her eyes. Oh he's in a good mood! He likes sassy little darlings though you've half resigned yourself to a fate he has yet to decide. What a pretty little darling you are.

"Alright I'll bite..." He watches her pause as she makes a disgusted face as he returns the look with something more lewd at her suggestion, "Um... I bring back memories."

"Yes you do." Ghosk becomes serious as he paces slightly, "Pesky little memories and feelings of a life long long gone. Yet Oh I don't know... maybe I'm just bored with all of this." He gestures to the burning city though for him he gestures to the dropship with his "brothers" god... the Iron Warriors feel like they have more brother hood... no the fucking World Eaters have far more comradery than he does with his supposed brothers.

"Why don't you just go then?" She holds back a groan as she rubs her sore legs but she looks up at her "savior". "If you're bored with it I'm certain the Emperor can forgive you right?"

Ghosk threw his head back and laughed hard when he finally calmed down he tried to compose himself, "Oh you're a funny little thing. He walked over and his right wing grabbed her and picked her up as she squirmed obviously freaked out by the way the membrane hugged her. "Careful little one... I've suffocated someone with my wings try not to squirm too much." He said looking over the edge before jumping down the few stories. "Now where were we... right. I was laughing at your suggestion. But I might move on... just I hardly have anything holding me here." He looked to his rabbit tucked into his wing as it curled around her like a large hand just holding her and caressing her with its thumb as he looked to her.

"What do you want me to say? That you shouldn't go? Oh yeah no totally stay here with the rest of the psychopaths."

"See that's what I don't want to do. I'm just so bored with it." Ghosk said with some dramatics.

"Then I guess you can leave them behind and we can part on friendly terms."

He dramatically turned his head toward her and cocked it to the side. "And leave my dear little rabbit at the mercy of wolves who will most likely break you in many many ways." He cooed as she shrank slightly.

"I have a feeling you're going to break me too."

He pursed his lips for a moment tapping his chin. "I might try that consent thing. But no my rabbit... you're not leaving my side. We're on this journey of self discovery together! Won't it be fun?"

He hummed as he walked past his brothers holding his prize and put his helmet back on his head and felt annoyingly amused... his little rabbit was right... he did get some of his hair caught in his mouth. "

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