#i can't unthink it and so now you have to suffer too

[monkeyfishgirl]

I didn't hate it until I remembered Charles's tampon fantasy

#british royals #british royal family #charles 3 #boy queen charles #charles iii #art #cursed #i can't unthink it and so now you have to suffer too

[usagikei]

꒰ა  YANDERE HEADCANONS with donquixote doflamingo. [n.sfw]

CONTAINS... fem!reader, abusive relationships, mind break, noncon, manipulation, somewhat graphic gore, typical doffy things, et cetera. A/N... i do not condone any of these things in real life. this was so self-indulgent that it's kind of humiliating. i'll most likely end up making a part 2 regardless of how well this post does. ♡

♡ Doflamingo is a man who will get what he wants, even if it means playing the long game. He's had his eyes on you for longer than you can comprehend, and every little occurrence in your life from then on was all a perfectly constructed ploy to have you all to himself. Getting laid off from your job? He bribed your manager. Nearly getting mugged in an alleyway? He hired the thieves. Your landlord kicking you out of the house? He threatened the landlord to do so.

♡ He plays with you like that for a while; all from the distance, enjoying your reactions to your life slowly going downhill. Then, after a year or two of terrorizing you, he gets bored of it soon enough, and finally decides to take real action to make you his.

♡ It's only natural he strikes when you're at your lowest. You can't seem to find work, you've nearly used up all your savings just trying to survive, and there's only so much begging you can do on the streets before your pride tries to fight back. However... just when you think you're finally done for, starving, trembling from the cold, and curled up in an alleyway, a shadow looms over you—and the first thing you see is a malicious grin.

♡ Doffy strikes a deal with you: work under him and he'll cover your food expenses, living expenses, and even throw in a little extra if you ever wanted to treat yourself. It almost sounds too good to be true at first, but that's exactly what Doflamingo's trying to go for. He knows you have no other option but to accept or die from starvation outdoors; his evil grin only grows impossibly wider when you accept his conditions, head hung low out of shame. You were coming with him either way—being submissive was the best choice, however.

♡ But don't get it twisted. You're not joining the family. You're his and his only. He'll either have you reside in his own personal quarters or a room right next to his, and brings you everywhere he goes even with force. You'll be on his lap or by his feet during meals, meetings, any time. He won't put shackles on you or anything; he trusts that you know what will happen if you dare disobey him or act out.

♡ In fact, any attempts at rebelling against him will end absolutely horribly. While he does enjoy someone who fights back here and now to make things fun, it does get irritating after a while. Doflamingo won't hesitate to do the unthinkable to you, even if he does love you; you stopped any attempts at rebelling against him when he used his devil fruit ability to force you to cut his name onto your body until you were sobbing from the pain and pleading for forgiveness.

♡ "After all I've done for you... I graciously took you in when you had no money, no food, no shelter, yet this is the thanks I get? You have no idea where you'd be without me, don't you? Most likely dead in a ditch or sold off to the slave market for a cheap price. Love, I think you should know your place."

♡ Doflamingo won't hesitate to make a statement to anyone else that tries to mess with you, either. Messing with his property was akin to asking for a death wish. Although, he's rather forgiving when it comes to his family—in fact, he finds it amusing when you're blushing in shame as Trebol and Diamante hurl the most vilest words you've ever heard in your life at you. (...he'll even let the two of them have a go at you if he's in the mood to watch you suffer.)

♡ When it comes to sex, he'll expect you to satisfy him whenever and wherever he wants to, completely oblivious to your own needs. Sorting through important documents or discussing certain things with the executives? He'll have you warming his cock with your mouth or your cunt, paying no mind to your embarrassment or to the other's prying eyes. Taking a bath? He'll have you cleaning him with your mouth. Any time, anywhere. Or else.

♡ He doesn't do soft and gentle. Doflamingo will have you crying, bruised, begging and sometimes bleeding by the time he's done with you. Even if you can't handle his cock in you (I mean, come on, he's 10 feet tall for fuck's sake) he'll find a way to shove himself deep in your cunt even if it means hurting you. He'll alternate between derogatory language and praises, trying to take in any reaction he'll get from you in such a sensitive, naked state.

♡ "Look at you, taking in all of me. Did your pretty little cunt miss my cock that much, love? Or have you finally ended up accepting your role as mine, as my whore?"

♡ Expect a lot of kinky shit from him; he'll have you calling him names like Sir, licking his boots, all tied up for him to touch, et cetera... He adores making you feel like you're beneath him, that the two of you are as different as heaven and the earth itself. Sometimes, he'll even share you with his own clone string to see you all fucked up from him and only him.

♡ "Did you think it was over already, dear? Oh, no, trust me, it's only just beginning. I'll have you fucked so hard you'd wish you were dead by the time I'm done with you. Too bad I wouldn't even let you die if you begged me to kill you, huh, darling?"

♡ While he is a yandere, he doesn't... really show his love for you in a typical manner. To him, he's satisfied with showing his love through sex even if forced and spoiling you with gifts after physically and sexually torturing you for hours ends. He doesn't really care if you don't return his feelings for you, because you both already know what'll happen to you if you dare try to reject his advances.

♡ However, in the case where you do finally break and give in to Doffy's unpractical form of love... Oh, dear, you're in for a ride of a lifetime with this cunning, cruel bastard of a man.

—- by cheri usagikei. 2023.

#donquixote doflamingo x reader #donquixote doflamingo x you #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece reader insert #yandere doffy #⁺ 🐇 ♡﹒mine #cheriafterdark

[calliesmemes]

RANDOM DIALOGUE PROMPTS, ACT I

ASSORTED QUOTES FOUND IN FILMS, TELEVISIONS, MUSIC, AND LITERATURE.

CHANGE gendered words as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“   All this pain, all this fear began because of me. ”

“   After all this time? ”

“   Be careful what you wish for. ”

“   Can you get us out of the mess we’re in? ”

“   Come sit by my side. ”

“   Could they be misleading us? ”

“   Don’t raise your voice at me! ”

“   Don’t speak to me about grief. ”

“   History is a story told by the winners of the fight. ”

“   How can I see it any other way? ”

“   Hey! What’s the hold up? ”

“   Hey, you’re supposed to be asleep. ”

“   I am growing strangely fond of you. ”

“   I am the one thing in life I can control. ”

“   I don’t look for trouble, but trouble looks for me. ”

“   I don’t trust your judgement. ”

“   I didn’t expect to see you here. ”

“   I have a bad feeling about this. ”

“   I have betrayed everyone and everything I know. ”

“   I mean you no harm, you know. ”

“   I must do what is right. ”

“   I never, ever want to hear you say that again. ”

“   I think he did it, but I just can’t prove it. ”

“   I will not be there to protect you. ”

“   I will not be at your, or anyone's whim. ”

“   I won’t let you down. ”

“   I'll make sure you do what must be done. ”

“   I’m not as strong as I used to be. ”

“   I’m not the one you were meant to find. ”

“   I’m obnoxious and disliked; did you know that? ”

“   I’m trying to keep you alive! ”

“   I'm tired of answering that question. ”

“   In dire circumstances, why wallow in regret? ”

“   I’ve been waiting years for this! ”

“   I’ve destroyed you before. I will destroy you again. ”

“   It all got out of hand, and I am sorry ”

“   It feels like home. ”

“   It is good to see you smiling again. ”

“   It is plain that we are meant to be together. ”

“   It’s a pleasure to meet you. ”

“   It’s inevitable, isn’t it? ”

“   it's my job to take care of you. ”

“   It’s the middle of the night. ”

“   It’s not that easy. ”

“   It's predetermined, so you can't escape it. ”

“   It’s too late for me, anyway. ”

“   Just tell me what you want from me. ”

“   Lost for words? That must be a first for you. ”

“   Maybe it’s not a conspiracy. ”

“   May I… ask a candid question? ”

“   Men are such babies. ”

“   My heart can’t take it anymore! ”

“   New leadership is needed. ”

“   No good deed goes unpunished. ”

“   No one asked your opinion. ”

“   No one will harm you. I won't allow it. ”

“   Nothing’s impossible if you’ve got enough nerve. ”

“   Now it’s risky, but not more than usual. ”

“   Something in me wants more. I can’t rest. ”

“   Something in you knows it. ”

“   Someday you'll explain all of this to me. ”

“   Talk less, smile more. ”

“   The world is cruel; the world is wicked. ”

“   Terrible times breed terrible things. ”

“   That is not an excuse. ”

“   That was a command, not an offer. ”

“   This is evil, unthinkable...please, listen to me. ”

“   This is getting out of hand! ”

“   This isn’t you. ”

“   This is why you were born. ”

“   There’s no one left to trust. ”

“   There you are! I've been looking all over for you. ”

“   There's no one I trust more than I trust you. ”

“   War drives us all to do strange, horrible things. ”

“   Wishing only wounds the heart. ”

“   We can work this out together! ”

“   What choice have I? ”

“   What have you become? ”

“   What if all I have is my suffering? My regret? ”

“   What’s done cannot be undone. ”

“   What's going on? Why aren't you dead? ”

“   Whatever it is you decide to do, i’ll support you ”

“   Where are you off to? ”

“   Where did you learn to fight like that? ”

“   We have to get out of here! ”

“   Will you get out of my way, please? ”

“   Will you share it with us? ”

“   Will you lie down with me? ”

“   Will you fight or will you run? ”

“   Why are we cooperating with— with him? ”

“   You and I, friend, will go down in history. ”

“   You are a pretty little thing. ”

“   You are my home. ”

“   You are right to fear me. ”

“   You belong to me. ”

“   You can see right through me. ”

“   You can’t be serious. ”

“   You don’t have to be embarrassed. ”

“   You don’t have to hide. ”

“   You make everything so complicated. ”

“   You won't suffer alone. i'll be here. ”

“   You seem like a good soul. ”

“   You won’t try. You will obey. ”

“   You don’t have to be afraid! ”

“   You're the best thing that’s ever happened to me. ”

“   You're stronger than I gave you credit for. ”

“   You’re turning your back on your people again. ”

“   You’re plotting something, aren’t you? Out with it. ”

#askbox meme #askbox prompt #rp ask meme #roleplay sentence meme #sentence starters #* sentence meme #ask box #roleplay prompts #roleplay sentence starters

[mydetheturk]

Had a bad migraine & vertigo today, decided to Project. Have Wolfwood Dealing With Vertigo and being Annoyed about it. (If it goes up on ao3 I'll make a post later💜🦑) (if you see any mistakes no you don't 💜)

~~

Wolfwood wakes with his head full of static and his limbs full of lead. He and Meryl and Vash had drank the night before, celebrating something that Wolfwood can't really remember now. All Wolfwood knows is he desperately needs to piss and he's too goddamn hot under the blanket with Meryl clinging to his back.

He tosses the blanket off, pushes himself upward, swings his legs around –

And finds himself on the floor, too dizzy to stay up.

Wolfwood wheezes at the landing. He's dense, heavy with muscle and Eye augmentations, so the landing is loud, louder than he'd ever admit.

Wolfwood is still staring at the wall in confusion when he hears a noise above him. Turning his head, he sees Meryl peeking over the side of the bed.

"Wolfwood? What happened?" She sounds just this side of freaked out, so Wolfwood tries to answer.

"Dizzy," he grunts.

He doesn't get any further when the door opens up, Vash looking panicked.

"Are both of you okay?" he yelps.

Wolfwood rolls onto his back, and while his vision doesn't swim, he's pretty sure if he tries to sit up again he's not making it. His balance is shot, and he doesn't actually know what's causing it yet. He could be dying? Maybe? He doesn't think so, is pretty sure that if he were dying there'd be a lot more bullets and he'd be vomiting up his own blood, but what does Wolfwood know, anyway?

"Nick's down," Meryl says. She pushes herself up. "Over here."

Vash carefully steps around the bed and kneels beside Wolfwood. "Hey, you okay?" he asks. He doesn't touch but he's hovering, and Wolfwood hates it, hates this weakness.

"Dizzy. Fulla lead," is what Wolfwood answers. "Help me up, gotta piss." He pushes his shoulders down, pressing his chest up into Vash's touch inhumanly hot touch. A touch like that could leave scorch marks if Vash wasn't so gentle with Wolfwood.

Vash curls his hands under Wolfwood's ribcage, scooping him up so Wolfwood is seated. He goes to press his hand to Wolfwood's forehead and hesitates. "Meryl?"

She presses her hand to Wolfwood's forehead instead. "Well he's not warm. You sure you're not hungover?" She's teasing, but she's a little serious as well.

"I think I can hold my liquor a little better than that," Wolfwood says.

Vash rumbles against Wolfwood's side, pressing their cheeks together. Wolfwood relaxes into his touch. It would have been unthinkable even six months ago. "I was going to wake the two of you," he interrupts before they can devolve into bickering. "We can't head out today."

Wolfwood makes a noise and Meryl looks at him with suspicion.

"A sandstorm hit last night," Vash explains. He rolls up to his feet, pulling Wolfwood with him as though Wolfwood weighs nothing. "Spoke to the innkeeper about keeping our room until it passes through." Wolfwood's sense of balance is a little too shot right now to smack Vash for it, but Meryl pokes Vash in the side for him. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I know. But it's a pretty bad one. Another group checked in just before it hit, apparently. Storm was full of lightning."

Ah.

Wolfwood isn't dying.

Wolfwood is just suffering the other side effects of the Eye's experiments. Too sharp senses were one thing – and now that Vash has pointed it out, Wolfwood can hear the sand rattling against the shutters – and he can usually cope with them using his sunglasses, ear plugs he'd stolen from a former colleague's team, and a steady stream of cigarettes and/or suckers.

The way sandstorms on Noman's Land blow through towns – and during the time of the year they're most common – ruins Wolfwood's balance. He doesn't think the doctors ever got a clear answer for that one, just knows it happened way back at Hopeland too. It irritated Chapel to no end, that his star pupil was so debilitated by the sandstorms. Wolfwood always had to be careful during sandstorm season, and even during the off seasons, pushing himself beyond his limits to keep Chapel's approval.

Wolfwood grunts.

"Ah, yeah. Sorry." Vash shifts Wolfwood so that he can get Wolfwood's arm over his shoulders. "Water closet?"

"'Water closet.' You're so old fashioned," Wolfwood scoffs. 

Meryl titters a little but sits up properly, now fully awake. "What time is it even?" she asks. "It feels early but…" 

It's dark in their hotel room. It's probably the sandstorm, though, and Wolfwood is glad they're in a town.

"Late enough I got most of my morning routine done," Vash says. "You two were exhausted. We can get breakfast in a bit."

He lets Vash help him to the bathroom of their inn room, takes a few minutes to recompose himself. Wolfwood's not eating, not this morning. He should, and he will, but that's a later problem. The lump caught in his throat from the vertigo won't let him, nor does he think he'll be able to keep it down. He might be able to manage some porridge or maybe toast if the inn's tavern has any bread this morning.

Meryl's mostly dressed by the time Wolfwood's recomposed himself, and Vash used the communal showers before coming back into their room, so he's clean & freshly dressed as well.

Wolfwood's the problem today. As much as it chafes, he lets them help him suit up. Usually it's the other way round, stripping one another of their clothes, trying not to tear anything in their haste.

Their hands still linger on Wolfwood's skin, though, Meryl circling her hands around Wolfwood's biceps to buckle his sleeve garters, and Vash feeling him up while tucking in his shirt, chest to back with Wolfwood. 

It has him a little on edge, but his limbs are full of lead and he can't move without swaying. He's glad he doesn't have to hide this weakness from them, that they care for him despite it.

Wolfwood is dreading the stairs to the first floor. He's grateful they're only on the second – this inn has three.

"Ready to brave the rest of the inn?" Vash asks. He and Meryl are on either side of Wolfwood, Vash's arm slung behind his shoulders and Meryl's arm around Wolfwood's hips.

Wolfwood grunts. He's not. He's going to, but he's not.

Meryl headbutts his ribs lightly. "Half an hour? Then we can come back up and cuddle?" she offers.

"I reserve the right to kick one of you in the shin to get me back up here if my head starts acting up," Wolfwood says. He'll kick Vash in the shin. Lightly, cause he doesn't actually want to hurt Vash, nor does Wolfwood think his shoes could actually do the Plant any damage, but he'll do it.

Vash chuckles and nuzzles Wolfwood's jaw as though he knows Wolfwood's plans. Fucker. "Alright. Let's get you downstairs and get some food in you?"

Wolfwood crinkles his nose. "If you do." Vash makes a face, sharp teeth bared for the room to see. "Needle-noggin, I swear to God."

"If you take something for your vertigo," Vash says lightly, his eyes flashing a deeper than usual blue. "We should have something that'll work in the first aid kit, you just need to eat first."

Wolfwood narrows his eyes. He knows what meds Vash is talking about, and hates how much more like lead his body feels when he takes them.

They shouldn't have to run, though. They're going to be downstairs for half an hour and then right back up here. Wolfwood is going to be useless if they had to run anyway, body made of lead and head stuffed full of worms.

He concedes the point. "Fine."

"Wonderful. Let's go before they stop serving breakfast foods." Meryl tugs on Wolfwood's waist, just a bit, unbalancing him slightly. He overcorrects, landing in Vash's arms.

Vash scoops Wolfwood up entirely while Wolfwood tries to get his vision to stop swirling and his stomach to settle. "Looks like I'm carrying you today," Vash teases.

"Fucker," Wolfwood breathes. He clings to Vash and buries his face in Vash's neck, ignoring how Meryl coos at him.

Vash chitters in his throat for a couple of seconds and then moves, and it takes everything in Wolfwood's training to not tense up against Vash and to stay limp to make it easier on him. The stairs are a harrowing nightmare that Wolfwood almost – almost – demands to be put down upon arriving at. But Vash just rearranges Wolfwood and carries him down.

Meryl makes an appreciative noise at the sight.

Wolfwood flips her off.

Vash settles Wolfwood at a table while Meryl hurries to the bar to get them breakfast – thomas eggs, something like the grits Wolfwood ate at Hopeland, and some sort of vegetation that might have actually been grown. He gets down most of the grits Meryl got for him, and all of the vegetation. The eggs he passes on to Vash with a pathetic look. Vash stares unblinking at him for a minute before accepting them. Wolfwood supposed one of them has to eat today, and he can't get much more than what he's managed.

An extra bowl of grits makes its way to their table and Wolfwood eyes them suspiciously.

"I might have mentioned you being ill to the innkeeper's daughter," Meryl admits. "You'll need it later, Nick."

Nick can't say no to that, so he slumps in the chair and Vash pats his back, hand lingering between Wolfwood's shoulder blades.

"Alright," Vash says, "back to the room to cuddle?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Yep."

Vash gets Wolfwood back upstairs while Meryl dips into their collective hotel money stash to pay for breakfast, bringing the extra bowl up with her.

When she makes it back up, Wolfwood is on the bed and Vash is digging through the first aid kit.

Wolfwood's already kicked his shoes off, and she does the same before sitting on the bed beside his hips.

"How's your head?" she asks.

Wolfwood has his arm slung over his face. He wiggles his free hand.

"Almost fell back down the stairs," Vash pipes up. Wolfwood flips him off. "But we got in here no problem. Could you fill a glass while I dig?"

Meryl fills a glass half-full with water from their tiny bathroom sink and sets it on the table beside the bed. She's down for cuddles as soon as Vash can get the meds into Wolfwood.

Vash emerges victorious, holding up a small vial with a label on the side in Wolfwood's handwriting that just says Vertigo.

Wolfwood sighs, and lets Meryl pull him up so he can drink his water and take a couple of pills.

"Hate this," he grumbles. "Hate how heavy this shit makes me feel."

Meryl kisses his forehead. "We've got you," she says. She and Vash lay him down, Meryl tucked in on one side and Vash tucked in on the other.

"Let us take care of you for once," Vash adds. Wolfwood bares his teeth, but melts into the bed once both of them are settled. Vash noses the side of his neck. "Rest, Nico. If something happens, we'll bring you with us."

"Dead weight and all," Meryl says. She fists one hand in Wolfwood's shirt, wrinkling the fabric. Wolfwood grunts, arms a little trapped but he's out fast enough. Meryl slides back into sleep soon after, content that Vash is keeping watch. 

Vash purrs, rhythmic and slow as the sandstorm rages on.

#Trigun #trigun stampede #nicholas d. wolfwood #Meryl Stryfe #vash the stampede #Mashwood #myde writes #This is 1900 words of Wolfwood being the subject of a chronic condition this time #Whoops? #Cuddles are so good let them cuddle #Probably not the most accurate depiction of vertigo tbh #This is just MY experience w it #Oh yeah #Chapel gets mentioned #As does some brief Eye of Michael stuff #No details tho! #They just Exist :3 #Trigun maximum #Forgot that tag oops #Chapel's not in tristamp (yet?)

[missveryvery]

Some tgcf discussion.

This scene after the parade in Chapter 25, English translation:

He held up the small child and stroked his head, asking casually, “How old are you, little one?”

The child didn’t blink, and his lips uttered no sounds.

Xie Lian continued his query, coaxing, “How did you come to fall earlier?”

“Your Highness, the child probably doesn’t dare to speak. He’s obviously scared witless,” Mu Qing said.

Xie Lian stroked the head of the child again, but his unresponsiveness was making him lose interest, so he eventually stopped.

"What a silly child," Xie Lian commented.

---

Until this point we assume Xie Lian must have taken a pointed interest in this kid, that he must have been exceptionally sweet and doting to him.

But he wasn't.

He saved him! And other people's reaction to it is so shitty and yes that act is exceptional given his status, given his life. But the follow up isn't what we're expecting. This Xie Lian is so dismissive, so unthinking. He doesn't realize that he might be too scared to speak. And when Mu Qing explains, he thinks it's silly.

And losing interest in him, like he's just a toy, is fucking devastating, isn't it? Hua Cheng is boring to him.

---

“Your Highness, this child doesn’t want to leave!”

Xie Lian also laughed. “Is that right? That won’t do. I’ve got my own things to take care of. Go home, little guy.”

At his words, the child finally, slowly loosened his grip, letting go of his clothes, and Feng Xin picked him up. Even when Feng Xin was the one holding him, the child still stared fixedly at Xie Lian with his big, bright black eye, almost as if he’d been possessed. At this sight, many started grumbling under their breaths. Xie Lian himself, however, wasn’t even looking at the child anymore, and only spoke to Feng Xin directly. --- This is staggering. I remember thinking "oh Xie Lian will sweeten up when he realizes how desperate he is to stay" or "now that other people are laughing he'll-" No. That doesn't happen. Xie Lian thinks it's funny and then again proceeds to forget about him, foisting him off on Feng Xin.

There's something else in this scene:

“Your Highness, the child probably doesn’t dare to speak. He’s obviously scared witless,” Mu Qing said.

---

Why does Mu Qing know this? Why is it obvious to him? Because he's a commoner and is frequently too terrified to speak. In the very next chapter, this is exactly what happens. He doesn't explain himself to the State Preceptors until Xie Lian after lays out a bunch of reasons why Mu Qing obviously didn't do anything on purpose and THEN specifically tells him to explain what happened.

He suffers so fucking much, just being terrified and bullied all the time. Xie Lian both knows and doesn't know this. He knows when it's in front of him, but he doesn't understand why Mu Qing can't just use his name to get things done. He doesn't get how that would make him look, and how it makes him look anyway despite everything.

It would have been so easy for Hua Cheng to resent Xie Lian, starting with this dismissiveness and then oh my GOD later. I don't think people realize how easily TGCF could have been a story about enemies.

#tgcf meta #xie lian #hua cheng #mu qing

[someonexsomeone]

Dear Soulmate

Title: Dear Soulmate

Author: SomeonexSomeone

Word Count: 2.3k

Pairing: Edward Cullen x np!Reader

Summary: Edward has a hard time expressing himself with words, so he turns to music instead.

Authors Note: Day 7!! Told you I would do it!! I had such a hard time writing this because, apperantly, i cannot think of the words that describe the feeling of love that completes you entire being the way Edward thinks about it. I mean...does it work that he can't express himself and neither can i? maybe?

There were many things to love about the vampire life that was bestowed upon Edward. First and foremost, the fear that consumed most of his teenage years was practically nonexistent anymore; it took many years for Carlisle to convince him not to wear his mask anymore when he was around people, and even more to show that Edward wouldn’t ever get sick again, despite every rational part of him denying it. The mindreading was hard to get used to, but it did allow him a unique type of freedom to explore the world without the slow caution that Carlisle and Esme had to. He had more time than he knew what to do with, all the hobbies and dreams he had as a kid suddenly being possible now that sleep wasn’t an issue. He didn’t have to give up as many aspects of his human life as he thought, especially things like his studies or music that reminded him so much of his mother.

His Mother…

With the positives, there was always, naturally, the things that made his life a living hell. The fear of outside forces on him were near eliminated, but going from prey to predator was difficult to handle. Things as simple as handshakes and opening doors became calculated, and the amount of walls and furniture he accidentally destroyed throughout his early years cost Carlisle a fortune to replace. His mindreading nearly broke his mind, especially when they first attempted to move into cities, too many voices swimming through his mind to even hear those speaking aloud. And their thoughts…Carlisle showed him that humanity was worth preserving, worth saving, but there were so many vile people all around, thinking unthinkable things and sometimes going as far as acting on them. He loathes to remember his ‘rebellious phase’, as Esme indeeringly calls it, as, for the first time since turning, he was able to do something about the voices. Even now, as he attributes those murders as the reason he’s able to manipulate his mindreading more like a radio than an onslaught of noise, he shudders at the memory of those final thoughts slowly fading away. 

And, time. He vaguely remembered sitting through his lessons as a human as lamenting the time passing so slowly he thought he would die of boredom. The flash of jealously is not uncommon when he thinks of those very human emotions he once had. The possibility of infinity is beyond what he ever could imagine, and the understanding he would remember every single detail of it drove him mad. Those human memories, those would cease to exist in only a few more years as they faded away, but his vampire memories would never go. And he would never stop making memories, or have things like sleep or becoming comatose as a buffer to slow the onslaught. He was desperate for the first year, writing every memory he could of his human life, especially those of his Mother, who, now, was no more than her favorite Edwardian dress and a silhouette. As he reread his journal over and over, the story became more and more like a novel he plucked from a library shelf, lost in time for a person he didn’t even recognize. He couldn’t attend school or play music, no matter how much he loved it, because the feeling that something or someone was missing ate him alive.

If Esme and Carlisle hadn’t been there to help him through these impossible feelings, he feared he never would have made it out the other side.

He could see how hard it was on his new parents to watch their son suffer at the hands of fate. Carlisle’s forgiveness when he returned burned through his nonbeating heart, and Esme’s relentless kindness balled guilt low in his gut. And, worst of all, he wanted to express his love for them, his thankfulness at their patience with him, but as eloquent as he was, there were never the right words to do it. Edward knew they knew his appreciativeness, but he always wished he could express it beyond his devotion to them.

The first time he sat at the piano after his mind accepted his new life, Edward nearly convulsed at the pure adoration in Esme’s thoughts. His fingers were clumsy, not quite used to the power and dexterity that vampirism brought to every part of his being, but the song was his Mother’s favorite, and his muscle memory was stronger than his recollective memory of her face. Too fast, then too slow, but Esme’s thoughts never faltered from their awe at the notes twinkling from within the wooden piano. Her thoughts made him smile so wide his cheeks ached. They ended up sitting together in the lounge for three days, Edward playing every song he could think of, Esme watching his every move and thinking of only her love of music and her new family. Carlisle liked to joked sometimes that, had he not finally returned home after a long weekend away, the two of them would have remained sitting in the lounge until the building collapsed around them. Though they hadn’t done another musical marathon since, Esme never failed to appear in the room when Edward played, her soothing thoughts weaving in time with the notes.

Then, that Christmas, Edward gifted Esme her very own song. If she could have wept, Edward had no doubt that she would have, instead pulling him into a hug so tight he was worried he would crack apart at the seams. She insisted he played it for her, and he did, everytime she even thought about it. 

From that Christmas on, Edward turned his unspeakable feelings into music. Everyone in his life had their own music journal, filled with notes and keys and rhythms that conveyed every feeling that Edward had ever felt. Esme’s journal was filled with the slow melodies of love, Carlisle’s contained the rhythmic beat of loyalty, and as more people joined their family, so too did their journals get filled with every song he created. Rosalie scoffed at the way her songs commanded attention, though her thoughts always betrayed her pride in being someone’s muse, and Emmett’s randy tunes always made him laugh. When Alice and Jasper joined them, Edward began to experiment in a collection of genre’s to convey Alice’s changing visions, and Jasper’s fluid tangle of emotions. Edward and Jasper grew exceptionally close then, Jasper finally having someone who could relate to his complex understanding of being, constantly assaulted by other’s emotions and not always knowing which were his true feelings, and finally having a way to express that to others in ways words failed him.

Then, there were the secret journals that were for his eyes only. Esme knew, of course, Edward trusted her with every part of his being, but he never dared show the vulnerability within those pages. He composed pieces for every deep feeling he had - resentment, fear, hope, envy, rage, happiness - just to be able to get rid of the knot of emotion that tangled itself inside him. His family was too close, to all knowing, to really keep private things truely private, but he appreciated the effort anyway. Jasper would always be able to tell what emotion he was using while composing, as Alice had the ability to see which piece Edward would start next. Carlisle had a look that, even without reading his mind, Edward knew meant that he knew exactly what each song was. Rose, even, afforded him some privacy, pulling Emmett out the door with her to go shopping when his verses would become too filled with emotion. He allowed her a couple snide remarks about it here and there as a thank you.

The most embarrassing of the collection, though, was the small black embossed one Esme had gifted him many years ago. It was a souvenir from their trip to Paris for one of their many honeymoons, the first time they left Edward alone to fend for himself. The cover was intricately detailed with the Lovers of Peynet, a story of love and peace that Esme fell in love with immediately. It was only fitting, then, that Edward used that journal to write his own complicated feelings of love. He was, after all, surrounded by it all the time.

Esme and Carlisle were so perfect for each other that Edward could never fathom the fact that both had relationships before. Esme’s compassion matched Carlisle’s perfectly, and Carlisle’s thoughts were only ever burning passion for his wife. Alice and Jasper moved with one another like no one else he had seen, adapting without needing to speak to always be there for one another. Jasper never seemed to need his empathy to be attuned to Alice, and Alice, in turn, worked patiently everyday to help Jasper untangle the twisted life he led before meeting her. Even Rose and Emmett worked! Emmett’s unwavering devotion and love for his Rose was unlike anything Edward had seen, rivaling those fake ties he witness between the Volturi in Carlisle’s memories. Rose, as standoffish as she seemed, cared for Emmett so deeply that they didn’t even have to be true mates to love as fiercely as the others. Choice, Destiny, Edward wanted any of it, to hold someone like Carlisle and Esme, to love like Rose and Emmett, to be understood like Alice and Jasper.

The pages of his book were filled endlessly with the different versions of love he both dreamed and attempted, but nothing ever came close to the feeling he got when he watched his family with their true loves. He always left them when the feeling got too much, bolting out the door as soon as Jasper was able to make the connection. In those instances, the only thing he would leave with was the clothes on his back, and the black embossed notebook in his hand.

The pieces, just as his thoughts, were complicated and unfinished. He tried more times than he could count to figure out the notes that most encapsulated his feelings, but it would always come up short. Melodies would stop midway, notes scattered like a puzzle waiting to be put together. More than a few times the notebook would end up thrown across the room, something Edward perfected in order to release some frustration in a human way. 

There was only one song finished in the entire book. The pages were flicked through so frequently that they were warped along the spine, and the ink rewritten so many times the pages were on the edge of ripping right through. Edward revisited this song whenever his thoughts became too repetitive, pretending they were written by someone else just to have something to relate to besides himself. There were no wishes written in the lines, only wonder, hope, at the thought of a mate, a soulmate, really existing out there for him. A vampire, a human, something else? Female, male, neither? What would they look like? How would they react to his mindreading? Who were they?

Edward had only played the song outloud a handful of times. The first was an accident. He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts he didn’t realize Esme had come into the room, watching him intently as he wiggled his fingers over the keys in order to play without making a sound. Her abrupt thoughts of curiosity allowed him just enough courage to gently play the piece for her. A passing thought of longing was all Esme had to do for Edward to stop abruptly, jumping from the bench and racing out the room without a word. After that, she didn’t ever push him to play it again, even going as far as chastising herself in her own thoughts when the thought crossed her mind. Edward smiled gratefully at her whenever it happened. The next time they had the house to themselves, Esme was privy to the song in it’s entirety, the melody soft and sweet. Her chin wobbled, and her eyes grew large, the signs Edward had come to associate with Esme crying without being able to. When it was just the two of them, she would often ask for him to play it for her again, and Edward loved her too much to deny her request.

After playing it for everyone but the person it was about, he found it strange, completely unbelievable, that he was now able to play it for the very person he wrote it for. You were sat beside him, awe in your face as his fingers tapped the keys to reveal the melancholic song. You were pressed so closely to him, the lines of your body curving into his. As his arm reached across you body to play the keys on your other side, you absentmindely rested your hand on it, reminding him of the times he took pretty girls for walks in the park during his human years. If he still had a working heart, he knew it would be beating out of his chest, but he didn’t need a heart to feel the sweet of adoration deep inside him whenever he looked at you. 

Even as the original song ended, his fingers continued as if reading from his black book, melodies mixing and unfinished songs melding together to try and show you just a smidge of the emotion swirling inside him. His very own notebook brought to completion as you sat there, switching between watching the way his hand glided elegantly across the keys and his face, which hadn’t taken a moments break from yours. He effortlessly leaned down everytime your eyes met, pressing his lips to yours, stealing your breath from your lungs, and replacing it with the melody of his love. 

A new song was already writing itself out in his mind; a rhythm based entirely around the way you looked at him, eyes wide and lips pouted, and the gratitude to whatever force brought you into his complicated existence. Yes, that would have to do for now. Just until, Edward decided, he could find some other way to express the irrationally wonderful love he had for you.

______________________________________________________________

masterlist  l What is Laufeyfest? l Laufeyfest masterlist

#laufeyfest #someonexsomeone #edward cullen imagine #twilight imagine #twilight one shot #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen one shot #edward x reader #edward cullen imagines #twilight imagines

[chiyeko-kurea]

Us, and everything in between

-Story of a friendship that no longer is.

Ps: Disjointed story transmitted through the notes I wrote in my phone.

The dates do not correspond to the exact event but to the moment when I wrote the note.

[PART 2/2]

06/01/2023

It feels weird knowing you won’t be there anymore.

It wasn’t talking to you anyways, I was ignoring you, but you were there. That’s what mattered. No matter how far I would go, I could still have an eye on you, notice how you dress, how you laugh, how you style your hair, how you smile. If you have new clothes, new jewellery, new glasses. I could pretend I didn’t care or didn’t even see it, but I always did. I could see who are your new friends and how close you are with them. These people, I don’t know any of them. What if they are mean, what if you don’t find your place, what if no one cares about you?

Worse, what if they are amazing and you perfectly fit in, and forget about me?

06/01/2023

I was truly happy by your sides.

In fact, I have never been happier than when I was with you. If the point of life is, in fact, finding true happiness, I believe that I have lived. Next to you, I felt alive, so alive, and I thought « I was born to be here, at this exact moment, with this exact person ».

19/02/2023

You slip through my fingers

Like water, elusive.

You were mine, we were two

Sure we weren’t okay, but I had you

And I clung to that. To you. To the idea that we were two.

But it was bad, wasn't it? We were so miserable.

Now I'm better, you're a little better too, but it's not because of me.

It's thanks to him.

I feel like he's stealing from you, that he stole you from me.

Because what you were to me, he is to you now.

I didn't save you, I didn't help you, we were in a spiral of misfortune together.

But he pulled you out, I know. He loves you, he's teaching you to love, he's teaching you to love yourself.

And that's the first time you've ever said I love you, isn't it? You said those words to him.

In a way, it's your first true love.

Like the other girl, the redhead. They're both beautiful, they're both gorgeous. And they're kind. They love you.

I loved you too, E. I still do. But I don't want to love you forever, because that would mean I'd suffer forever.

Because I'm selfish, E. And I can't be satisfied with the thought of your happiness. I love you, but I'm probably more selfish than I do. Because I want your happiness, but mine will only come with you by my side, with you in my heart, with your "I love you(s)" meant for me and me only.

I want you to try to please me, and I want you to know that I like you. I want you to think of me the way you think of him.

I want you to hug me the way you'd like to hug him, and kiss me the way you'd like to kiss him. I want you to rest your head on my shoulder, I want you to blush when you think of me as you do when you think of him. I want you to find me beautiful, not beautiful like a friend you find beautiful, beautiful like I find you beautiful.

I don't want him to exist. I want him to disappear, never to have existed. I want to be the one to help you get back on your feet like he did.

But I couldn't. I was the one who pushed you down, who was toxic. No wonder you don't love me like you love him.

But anyway. There you go. You love me, but not the way you love him. I'll never be what he is to you. You've never loved me like that.

You've never talked about me the way you talk about him.

I go to sleep thinking of you, you know. I think you fall asleep with him in your thoughts, in your heart. You fall asleep with a smile on your lips, after you've turned off your phone, after you've exchanged "good nights", "I love you".

I fall asleep alone, often sad. But I've earned it, haven't I?

You've never thought of me in any way other than friendship.

Unimaginable. Unthinkable. I'm K, K's your friend, you're close to her but you don't love her in any other way. With K you laugh, K she heals, K she gets better so you're proud of her.

But you don't know it, but K smiles every time she receives your notification, every time she sees that you're connected, she looks after herself for you, K. K thinks about you all the time, K tells her friends how much she loves you. K, she didn't think she loved you until she realized that this frustration is jealousy and that sweet feeling when she thinks of you, it's not just friendship. K, she doesn't want you to leave, K, she likes to see you in the schoolyard. K, she writes pages and pages about you, K she draws you, K she makes playlists of songs that remind her of you. K, she thinks back on the times you've spent together, wondering if you'll ever have them again, times like this. New memories, that she'll write down in her notes so she won't forget them, that she'll reread at night, as she drifts off to sleep.

K’s heart, it bleeds.

K hurts, because she loves a little too much but knows it will never be reciprocated.

But you'd never see K that way.

K isn't the one you love.

06/03/2023

Wavy hair as after braiding

Half tail with claw clips

White T-shirt

Olive green cardigan

Beige plaid pants

Doc martins

Her acne got bad

She was really pretty

07/03/2023

Black tailored pants

Black T-shirt

Short closed cardigan with brown V-neck, wool, with large round buttons

Doc Martines

Low bun with messy strands

07/03/2023

« In the back of my mind

You

die »

07/03/2023

I don’t want to let you go

08/03/2023

Horizontal black and white striped sweater

Shirt collar (black?)

Black tailored pants

Olive cardigan

Doc martins

Glasses

Acne again

Seemed happy

19/03/2023

I found peace in your arms

You found peace in his.

26/03/2023

I know I just have to accept that things will never be the same

It’s just hard, right?

26/03/2023

I feel like no matter what I become, no matter how far I run away, no matter how many years go by, I will always have this regret, the shadow of her presence in my heart. A constant reminder that we’ll never end up together like I hoped, that I screwed up, that our ways parted and maybe I could have done more to stop that. Maybe I’ll be a successful doctor, find a loving husband and have kids, travel around the world and meet hundreds of people. But I’ll never be fully happy. I’ll always have that painful heartache thinking about what we could have been. How different my life would be if I chose her. If I didn’t act like I did back then. And if my kids one day ask what’s my biggest regret, I’ll tell them all about that girl that I let go.

How that girl made my heart beat when I wanted it to stop, cared when no one else did, knew how fucked up I was and how awful I was feeling, maybe because she was feeling the same.

How I could laugh to tears in just a few seconds, cry under the rain and fall asleep peaceful with her by my sides.

How empty I felt every time I left her.

And how that emptiness stuck with me ever since.

25/04/2023

Please drown me in all of you

25/04/2023

[Beginning of our fight]

You saw that i saved photos on snapchat five minutes after i did it so you were online. you said you were never on snap i don’t understand. that’s so embarrassing for me; did you wonder why i saved 12 old photos in my camera roll? did you think of me? did you think i was weird as always and just brushed it off - brushed me off? your snapscore isn’t going up though so i don’t understand. who are you chatting with on snap? are you chatting with him? I thought you were chatting on discord or instagram. I saw that for Christmas you had matching pfp. It was cute i hated it. On the snap map i see you are near elve’s house are you on vacation with her or is it a coincidence? 14,874. 14,874. 14,874. I now it by heart now i always check if it changes. You were last online 13 minutes ago. If i called now, would you answer? You never did. You never did.

17/07/2023

[In June, we made up. Everything was fine. During the summer vacations, we spoke by message while I was in the USA, but in July she stopped answering me altogether. It was all over.]

I left you

On california roads

In the west coast sun

-I moved on- KRea<3

about E.

24/08/2023

it no longer scares me

knowing i won’t see you again.

I guess I moved on

Now when I think of you,

My heart doesn’t ache like it used to,

I don’t feel a crippling void between my ribs

I feel nothing.

You are you, I am me,

We’re just two strangers

And it doesn’t hurt anymore.

[I realised by the end of summer that she actually blocked me everywhere and I couldn’t reach out to her anymore. She cut ties with me.]

So she blocked me on Instagram,

Blocked me on the game we used to spend hours on

Blocked me on discord

I don’t even know what I did

Please just tell me what i did

11/09/2023

[She sent me a letter. She told me I have changed, I am a bad person, our values are different, I manipulated and hurt her. I was toxic. She doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore, and those words are the last she will ever address to me.]

Update: lmao she sent me a letter telling me everything and i wanna die

Update: i let go. I guess that’s what life is.

02/12/2023

Sometimes I’m in my room and I get a feeling, a glimpse of the past inside my heart, when we were still friends, when we used to love to play our favorite game together, and it aches. Not necessarily you, nor your memory, but the past. It wasn’t better than now, it was worse even. But it was like that for so long, my brain forgets things changed and my heart gets sad when reminded.

10/04/2024

It’s been seven months since i received her letter. One day I will reply to her letter, even though she specifically said she didn’t want to. Because I have some things to say, too, and she can’t deprive me from my right to express my point of view. Maybe she will not receive it, or open it, or maybe she will throw it away when she’ll realise it’s from me.

I honestly don’t care. It took years, but I finally don’t care.

People leave, life goes on.

And that was the end of us.

#$h tw #988blr #988twt #beansblr #cvtaddict #hitting beans #hitting styro #s3lf harn #s3lf mutilation #s3lfharmm

[laundrypause]

An AU where Pierre's still an F1 driver but Yuki isn't. He could be part of Alpine but as a chef where he doesn't know Pierre personally but he sees him sometimes in the factory and when he comes to the cafeteria for lunch sometimes. Yuki doesn't really pay much mind to the Frenchman though. Like yea, he's attractive but eh. However, when one of his close friends gets hurt by the baguette muncher, Pierre now has his fullest attention. He's thinking of revenge plots that may or may not land him in jail but the perfect plan just somehow manages to fall into his hands.

Literally.

Yuki was minding his own business, sipping on his virgin martini when Pierre Gasly slips onto a stool beside him at the bar. The unthinkable happens. Pierre, the Alpine driver, the French driver who drives for Alpine, who hurt his friend, starts flirting with him.

What. The. Fuck.

Sorry Josh, that's another euro in the swear jar.

It could simply be seen as Pierre being friendly but the eyes roaming does not seem friendly. At all. Yuki's first instinct was to you know. Throw his martini at the man and sucker punch him before bolting out of the club. But...a more enjoyable plan floats into his head. If he's interested in him then why not play into it? Pretend to be interested too and bam, make his life a living hell for however short they're together. It could be an hour, a day or even a week but Yuki will relish in however long he manages to make Pierre suffer in his hands if it means getting revenge for his friend. So Yuki flirts back.

He ends up with Pierre's number by the end of the night.

Honestly, Yuki didn't expect for them to last this long. It's been a week and they're still kinda together. Since its summer break, Pierre has more free time than he usually does and Yuki's been taking advantage of that fact. Calling him up at 3 am continuously to complain about being hungry, asking him if he could pretty pretty please take him out to get some food? Adopting a cat, naming her Count Meowzilla and dropping her off at Pierre's house saying it's his now. (What do you mean it's mine now? I can't have a cat, I don't even like cats! And why did you name her something so ugly. Isn't she a girl? Shouldn't it be Countess and not Count? Take her bag to the shelte-wait Yuki don't cry. Okay, okay fine I'll take care of her) Those acting lessons on YouTube actually helped, who would have thought. Oh and his most favourite moment of all. Yuki had managed to make himself a copy of Pierre's key and completely redecorated his entire apartment. Pierre should be grateful. His house looked so monotone, at least now it has some pzazz. How he wished he had taken a photo of Pierre's face when he walked into his apartment after a day at the gym. Yuki was just finishing the final touches too, adding a pink bathroom mat here and changing the boring, blue comforter to a green floral patterned one.

"Welcome home, Pierre!"

The way the easy smirk on his face slowly slid into an expression of complete disbelief. Yuki would remember that forever. The once boring living room became more colourful, with green drapes, pink cushions and a yellow throw over blanket. Not bad, not bad at all.

Summer break ends and it's the Dutch GP. Yuki's there too, being the supportive partner he is. He can't deny that he kind of likes being in the paddock, seeing the cars zooming past him. Sometimes he wishes he was the one behind the wheel but that was a dream he gave up long ago. He's happy now with his job as a chef. He's happy. Yea, he's happy...

The race starts dry but it becomes increasingly obvious that there's going to be a downpour soon with how the once clear sky turned dark and gloomy. You'd think that it's ten at night with how dark it was. It started off light then it started pouring as if the world got turned upside down and the sea was now raining onto them. The rain was so heavy that even Yuki couldn't see the outside from where he was in the garage. To say he's worried would be an understatement. Pierre had come in for inters a few laps prior but Yuki thinks that even with wet tires the conditions would be too dangerous to race in. Of course he's proven right not even ten seconds after.

"Someone's gone into the barriers and it's an Alpine! It's Pierre Gasly!"

Yuki probably looked like a madman running into the medical centre. He practically begged one of the Alpine personnel to take him to the medical centre, to let him see if Pierre was alright. It took a lot of convincing but he managed to play the concerned partner card. At this point, he doesn't know if it's really still an act or not. He saw a glimpse of an Alpine race suit through the cubicle curtain and he wanted nothing more to see if Pierre was alright despite multiple assurances from other Alpine team members that Pierre was fine, his tires just locked up and he hit the barriers but overall he was fine. Even while his brain was screaming at him to go and see Pierre, he hesitated. What if he didn't want to see Yuki? Yea, they grew undeniably closer in the past month but what if? He doesn't manage to spiral any further though because suddenly Pierre was standing right in front of him.

Pierre asks him what he was doing here, looking concerned for some reason. Why he's the one concerned when he was the one who got into an incident is beyond Yuki. A calloused hand grabs his own, Yuki welcomes the warmth.

"You're wet."

Huh, he didn't realise. He thinks back to himself running through the rain just to get to the medical centre, not bothering to grab an umbrella. The realization made him register how cold it really was in the centre. All the adrenaline that had flooded his system slowly dissipated once he was sure Pierre wasn't hurt. He was sore but no long lasting injuries.

"Aw, were you worried about me? Did you run through the rain to check up on me?"

"Shut up, no I wasn't."

"You care about m- Yuki?"

It's so stupid, so fucking stupid. He doesn't know why he's crying over a stupid Frenchman's ass. Doesn't understand why he's worried about Pierre, why he needed to see Pierre or else he'd combust or something. Then, a dawning realization came upon him.

Fuck, he cares. He cares about the man in front of him.

The same hand that was gripping his wrist moves to cup his face, trying to wipe away the steady stream of tears flowing down his face.

"You're not supposed to move too much," Yuki mumbles.

And now Pierre's looking at him with those eyes that he thinks about each night. Intense, blueish eyes that he has to will himself each time not to drown in. Pierre leans into him, his head angled down towards Yuki.

"Stop me if you don't want this"

Yuki doesn't.

#yukierre #another day another mental decay

[blackopals-world]

Safe Harbor

(???)FemYuu and (???)MascYuu (I'm growing attached to these two) and Crowley.

Fem-Yuna

Masc-Yuta

What would a pair of twins do to defy fate?

"What the fuck have you done?!"

He had burst into the basement searching for his sister. He had been acting strangely since the accident. Their uncle had been putting thoughts in her head and it was bothering him.

She buried herself in spell books and refused to listen. He kept telling her that there was no such thing as a curse. Nothing would happen.

Yuna became obsessed with the family record and tracking every death. Their uncle only made it worse with his own story.

Their family often had twins. It was hereditary, it had nothing to do with magic. It was just science.

The old story stated at their family got their magic from a sacrifice and every few generations twins with strong magic would be born but one twin would kill the other.

Their uncle I knew it be them and told Yuna.

No one believed in the curse. The deaths were coincidences, accidents. It was a fable that the locals made up to scare kids and make a mockery of their family tragedies. If people stopped talking about it then it wouldn't be as prevent.

But Yuna was scared and when she got scared she'd try to solve things. Things she shouldn't be involved with.

Their uncle made an off-handed joke that if there was a sacrifice it would be Yuta because he was a boy. Boys don't pass a twin gene like girls do so the safest option was for Yuna to kill her brother.

"Of course, I'm only joking but you never know it might be true." He said smugly as he smiled over the rim of his wine glass.

Diner ended with Yuta throwing a glass at the wall. Yuna cried. The servants kept quiet as they rushed to clean up. That bastard was smiling.

Yuna didn't recover. She said that she would save them. Yuta didn't understand but after she locked herself in the basement he got suspicious.

He broke the lock only to find her hunched over her alchemy table holding a rock in her hand and blood falling from her lips.

Yuta rushed to her side and tried to lift her shaking body. She began laughing loudly as she smiled at him.

"I did it. I can save you!" She smiled, her teeth stained red as she held up the rock.

The rock was a deep red that glowed, pulsing like a beating heart.

"What is that?" Yuta whispered in horrified astonishment.

"It's magic. My magic." She said in wonderment.

She had done the unthinkable. She had carved out her own magic.

"The curse can't affect us anymore if there are no twins with magic. It can't make me kill you." She hugged Yuta tightly.

"You were never going to do that. You'd never hurt me." Yuta pulled away.

He couldn't believe this. She'd never do it. She went through so much pain for nothing.

"I had nightmares. Terrible nightmares. I killed you. I did such horrible things. I'd wake up with the taste of blood in my mouth from biting my tongue so I didn't scream in my sleep." Yuna cried as she shook her head "but we're safe now."

Yuta had no idea. What kind of brother was he that let this happen?

He couldn't accept this.

She suffered on her own. Everyone kept putting these thoughts in their heads. He would let her suffer alone. Curse or no curse.

"Take mine out too." He ordered her.

Yuna frantically shook her head.

"No, I can't. Please. It's enough that only one of us has magic. So-" Yuta cut her off.

"If one of us has no magic then neither of us will have it. Let's end this curse, both of us." Yuta tried to sound hopeful. Maybe they could live a normal life after this. A better life.

Yuna reluctantly agreed.

Yuta felt an indescribable pain. It felt like a shard of molten ice carving out his heart. But he kept himself grounded as he focused on Yuna. He was doing this for her.

When it was over he felt weak and tried. A tiredness that bled into his bones and spirit.

But when it was over there was no sense of relief. Only suspense, like their troubles, had just begun.

He was right.

Magic isn't something that can just be removed. Not without consequences.

The stones they created attracted energy. They were powerful and if they fell into the hands of others they would create a force unknown to their world.

Their uncle was more power-hungry than before and had to be killed. There was no choice.

They where changing. Becoming less like themselves. Color faded from their Visage and their eyes darkened to black.

They sealed their magic stones deep in the chambers under the manor. They felt their lives were coming to an end. They knew they couldn't live without magic despite what they hoped. The servants were dismissed and the manor was closed off.

And they slept after holding off for as long as they could. For the last time, they said goodnight to one another.

In their sleep, the world changed. The stone's energy created an endless storm that shrouded the mansion.

The people moved away from the area. It was renamed the valley of storms.

It would take someone crazy to willingly travel to the center of the cloud to even see the house.

One such person does exist.

Dire Crowley.

He was researching the area due to the storm's abnormal energy. It was believed that the storm itself was magic but Crowley theorized that it had a source. Banking on finding a magic artifact he forged through the storm.

He took shelter in the mysterious mansion and searched through the decrepit ruins. It was indeed old with the smell of rotting wet wood. Maybe about 200-250 years.

He hadn't expected to find two kids. They were sound asleep, still wearing their pajamas. They couldn't be any older than 13, maybe 14. They weren't dead.

He explored the basement where he found the artifacts. They were like mana stones but different. They weren't raw with power, it was more sophisticated.

Crow had what he was looking for and with the right spell he could stop the gathering energy but he felt a twinge of guilt. (OOC he'd never feel that)

He tried to wake up the twins. Only to get no response. The stones pulsed in response. He realized that these kids did the unthinkable and had to be powerful to do it.

It would be a waste to let them remain here. If only his students could do something like this.

The twins became an investment for him.

He had learned that if their stones were kept on them it would keep them awake and aware.

When Yuta awoke in a stranger's house his first thought was of his sister and his last was of how cold he was.

The strange man that took them in was, well strange. He talked constantly about nothing but he was at least patient enough to let them adjust on their own.

They were dispirited at seeing the light of day and didn't understand Crowley's insistence they place their stones back in their bodies. We well they understood but they didn't want to.

Crowley only relented when he chose to study them instead. The removal of magic from the body might make overblots impossible without mental stress being a part of the equation.

Keeping the crypted children around had its ups and downs. They spent most days in the woods walking, they found the abandoned dorm and used it as their clubhouse. Crowley tried to take them into the city but they were scared of cars. It took a lot of work to get them dressed in clothes from that century but he managed. Crowley didn't blame them either because his own fashion was a bit old as well. The comprise was that they all dressed in his style. They made quite a family. People would mistake them as his kids often.

It would be a few years before they were ready to attend NRC. They took Crowley's name.

Without magic in their souls the mirror only saw a black void of no magic and so they weren't sorted in houses. Crowley had hoped they would end up in Diasomnia but alas.

He sent them to live in Ramshackle where they already spent so much time. They were happy to go, they often preferred their own company. Crowley had turned their stones into their dorm brooches so they didn't accidentally send themselves into eternal slumber.

Over time they made friends and despite their liminal existence and spectral feel they found a place for them.

They were given the chance to grow up and live the normal lives they wanted.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland yuu #twisted wonderland x reader #twst yuu #twst mc #twst dire crowley #dire crowley #twisted wonderland crowley #twst crowley #(???)!yuu

[skania]

I wonder what Aqua's plan is... do you have any theories?

Hi anon! I'm not sure if I mentioned this before, but last time Aka hyped up a plan and made it sound like it was something brilliant/unthinkable, it turned out to be the most basic plan ever. This happened in Kaguya, so I'm managing my expectations and assuming Aqua's plan is just as obvious lol

I think the goal of the movie is to put Kamiki's name out there in order to ruin his reputation. I doubt they can outright say his name in the movie, but if they can give people enough to work with, they'll do the detective work themselves. If the movie is a big success, the Internet may even try to "cancel" Kamiki.

If you ask me, this serves two purposes. On one hand, Aqua may think that having his reputation ruined will make Kamiki suffer. On the other hand, in the public eye, it gives Kamiki a plausible motive to seek revenge against Aqua.

We know that Kamiki can't be charged with Ai's murder, but if he were to murder someone now, then they'll have something to charge him with, right?

In that regard, Aqua may simply be planning to let himself be killed by Kamiki so he can finally be put behind bars.

But this feels like Aqua leaving too many things up to chance. If Aqua wants to make sure things go according to plan, his triumph card may be killing himself and making it look like Kamiki did it.

If the movie generates enough buzz, people will automatically suspect Kamiki of the murder, because who else would want Aqua dead? Meanwhile, if Aqua can manage to get anything of Kamiki that he can plant in the scene, the police will have enough to press charges and put Kamiki behind bars. And Aqua just happened to spend half the manga becoming an expert on getting people's DNA.

Luckily for Aqua, there are other far more recent victims that Kamiki can be charged for 😂

That's more or less what I've been thinking since Aqua announced his plan, but I may be completely off. Hopefully we'll find out soon enough!

#onk asks convos #whatever the case aqua is 100% planning to screw himself over

[axyer]

Help the unthinkable is happening I think I'm getting re-hyperfixated on him

I made him straight when I was younger bc internalized homophobia made me think straight characters were a minority and I needed to make a straight William to be "unlike all the other Williams" (even tho he was asexual bc I was exploring my asexuality)

But I don't care anymore William's polyromantic demisexual and he likes men women and androgynous folk and has a moderate libido drive I have too many bi pan and ace characters I need some variation

Screw you @madcatdaderpydrawer-blog I can't believe you got me back into William just by imagining William having extreme gay tension with Roderick

To all those who used to know my William I'm sorry to tell you all he's no longer a sweetheart in a happy relationship with his wife he's now a divorced and spiteful prick that was abandoned in Limbo to suffer forever alongside a fellow angry twink that he is a manchild with in customer service Purgatory being handled by a tired SUPER twink who just wants these two to be half-decent people but they make it so hard

William breaks the mold so hard for me because not only is he not a little sweetheart who goes through it unfairly but rather he's a horrible person who is half-suffering, tho he does still have a heart of gold underneath all that angst

Now time for his eightieth rewrite…

#axyer eats a canvas #five nights at freddys #FNaF au #William Afton #FNaF UCN #ultimate custom night #nightmares beyond #cool people things

[justpottytime]

The first time that stoic character came to their sunshine for help wasn’t actually because of their bladder shyness. They suffer from awful nightmares due to their not-so-nice past, and one night they woke up with the sheets soaked beneath them. They managed to shove their emotions down long enough to shower and strip the bed, before realizing with horror that they don’t know where their new team keeps the extra bed sheets. So they go to the only person that’s been consistently kind to them since they moved in: sunshine character. And they’re scared and shaky and they can barely force the words out, but then they do and they fully expect to be laughed at or even punished for what they’ve done. But instead sunshine character takes them by the hand and shows them the linen closet and helps them remake the bed. And stoic character can feel some long missing shattered piece of themselves peeking its way out in response to the kindness. And then sunshine character does the unthinkable and offers a hug and stoic character just falls apart in their arms. But their tears are met with understanding and kindness and nothing is okay but at least they don’t feel quite so alone anymore.

AAAAAAAAAAAA yeeeeeees, we're back in full-force! Stoic character has been dealing with their problems all by themselves for so long now, including frequent nightmares. They're used to pushing down that terror and waking up feeling sick and shaky and panicked... And let's face it, it's probably not the first time they've woken up to wet sheets either, and they know how to suppress everything until they're all cleaned up and the bed is fixed, because crying certainly won't fix it. But they realise too late that they have no idea where to get new sheets, and if someone comes to wake them in the morning and finds them sleeping on just a stripped mattress, they'll instantly know what happened! God, they REALLY don't want to ask for help from anyone, but they have no choice, so of course they seek out the nicest team member, the one least likely to be cruel about it... Or perhaps it's more accurate to say that they think sunshine will probably be the least cruel out of anyone, because at this point, they never assume that someone just won't be cruel at all. It's so very hard to choke the words out, to admit what they did, and they're already bracing themselves for laughter... So it comes as a total shock when sunshine is gentle and sympathetic and helps them find the new sheets - somewhere they NEVER would have found on their own, probably, because this damned linen closet is impossible to find unless you already know where it is - and stoic figures that's where the help will end, since it's kind of the middle of thr night and sunshine probably needs their sleep... But nope, sunshine follows them back to their room and helps re-make the bed, as though that's just a normal thing that people do?! Since when did anyone ever care enough to help?! In fact, stoic probably says something along those lines, and that's what makes sunshine pause and hold their arms out, offering a hug. They can't believe that their new friend really doesn't expect ANY kind of sympathy or kindness, but thinking about it, suddenly a lot of their behaviours and quirks make a lot more sense now... And then suddenly stoic has collapsed in their arms and is sobbing helplessly, letting out all that pent-up emotion from the embarrassment and the nightmare and probably a good deal more too... And sunshine stays right there until it's over, until stoic has cried themselves out, then gently helps them back into bed with a glass of water and a promise that no-one will find out what happened... And perhaps they gently ask that if stoic needs help with anything else, anything at all, please, just come find them? And that promise stays in stoic's mind as they drift back to sleep, too exhausted from their breakdown to keep their eyes open...

Geez I went a bit hard on this one... Anyway, thanks for the ask! <3

#sunshine and stoic sweetheart

[ineffable-gallimaufry]

this isn't perfect (what is though?) but ii thought ii would share the thing ii wr8te last night

i gotta put it in text f8rm because it's too long so it will be under a read more

tw: this bit of writing includes MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, BLOOD, references to BONES BREAKING, a big ol FIGHT SCENE, a character being STABBED, and probably something else ii am f8rgettiin (if you see anything tell me)

anyways, without further ad8... here's the unbreakable arc wwiith a scene ii wwill pr8bably change a l8t later down the line

Boom!

Smash!

Kapow!

Every single badnik in Robotnik's "special fleet" went down in only a few hits. Sonic laughed a bit as he spindashed into the last one.

"Is that all you've got, Egghead?" Sonic gestured around at the broken robots littered about the ground. "C'mon I know you wouldn't just call anything a special fleet!"

A few more badniks landed on the ground around Sonic as Eggman's ship floated down towards Sonic.

"Oh not quite, Sonic." Eggman grinned. "I have one last trick for you."

"Three more badniks? Doesn't seem like a really good trick."

"Not them." Eggman groaned. "I wouldn't expect a puny rodent like you to get it."

Sonic cracked his knuckles and tightened his eyes. Running at light speed, he zipped in a blur, destroying every badnik around Robotnik. "Alright, where's this trick of yours Egghead?"

"It is a creation of sheer magnitude whose magnitude and power you could not even imagine with your infinitesimally small brain—"

"Whose?"

Bzzip.

A zap of blue energy.

A familiar face.

"Shadow?"

"Not quite."

Yet, the figure before him was most definitely Shadow the Hedgehog. The quills, the eyes, the fanged grin, every bit of him, almost picture perfect.

Sonic looked closer. Something was wrong.

Bzzip.

Next to him was Metal Sonic.

"But Metal can't—"

Bzzip.

Bzzip.

The flashes continued until Sonic was surrounded by enemies, some former, some current and all slightly wrong.

"What is this?"

"The trick." Eggman smiled. "I planned for so long how to annihilate you and now it's here."

"What's here though?" Sonic gestured at the assorted figures. "A gallery of all the people I've defeated?"

"No, something better." Eggman smiled. "I'll leave him to it."

A figure descended from above. Sonic could barely see him, the purple energy surrounding the figure obscuring him.

A low and distorted laugh crackled through the air like radio static.

"Alright, who are you?" Sonic lunged forwards at the figure.

And suddenly he wasn't there anymore. Sonic stumbled as the figure materialized behind him.

"Your worst nightmare."

"Really?" Sonic laughed. "And my nightmare doesn't have a name?"

The figure disappeared as Sonic turned around, fist ready to connect with face.

"You may call me Infinite. Not that you'll have much time to use that name."

"Oh yeah?" Sonic grinned. "Bring it then. I'm the fastest creature on Earth, the blue blur, the hedgehog no one can beat. You can't stop me!"

"Those make fine last words." Infinite snapped his fingers and the enemies around Sonic started to edge towards him.

"Last words?" Sonic looked around at the assembled figures. "Bold words from an Eggman crony. He's never been able to defeat me."

"Well, Sonic, since you seem to fail to comprehend the stakes here, I think it's time we get one thing straight.

"I am more than an Eggman crony. I will cut you down in a second.

"You won't know what's real.

"Your end will come after pain and suffering and fear.

"And that's the word I want you to remember.

"End."

Sonic looked around at the assembled figures. They were a lot. He could handle them though.

"Sonic, I don't want to defeat you."

The world fell silent.

"I want to kill you."

"Kill?" Sonic looked around. "Are you sure that's allowed?"

"We'll find out, won't we?"

Everything felt suddenly more. Eggman had never said this. Shadow, even at his darkest hour, had never said this. It was almost unthinkable.

Another snap of the fingers. Zavok came towards Sonic. He shrugged it off. He was faster than every single one of these guys put together.

What he didn't notice was that Chaos was right where he had dodged to. A quick punch from the watery creature threw him backwards, skidding along the rough ground.

He looked up. Shadow stood above him and in a blink, he was picked up by the scruff of his neck and thrown towards another foe.

"Hold on!" Sonic shouted as he flew from Shadow's hands. "I thought we were friends!"

"Oh, poor naïve, pitiful creature." Infinite's voice shook the air. "Things are not what they seem. Look around yourself. Tell me what you see."

The world spun as Sonic ran straight into Knuckles' pointed fist, the shock shaking him. Something felt broken.

"What of this is real?" Infinite asked. Sonic ran into the ground after a swift kick to the back from Metal Sonic.

"And then again, does it matter?" The fire of Solaris burned behind him and he could feel the tips of his quills burn in the heat.

"You can still feel the pain." Sonic was being flung from former enemy to former enemy.

"Still feel the crack of your bones breaking."

Sonic winced as his leg flared with pain.

"Help…" he whimpered from the ground. Everything hurt. His arms struggled to keep him upright.

"Help?" Infinite laughed again. "What makes you think anyone can help you? There is no one left. It's only me and you, exactly who do you think is going to save you now?"

Sonic looked up at Infinite. He hated being down here, weak, useless, unable to even prop himself up.

"What are you going to do to me?" Sonic's arm fell out from under him with a pop and a sickening crack.

"Your fear is delicious…"

The edges of Sonic's vision were blurring.

"Perhaps pain has made you forgetful. I told you already.

"I am going to kill you."

The words felt so much realer now, red and bloody in the air.

He had barely lived life.

He was just a kid.

Everything was crumbling.

Shink!

Sonic could hear sword blades being pulled out of their sheaths. He knew what was coming.

This was the end.

"Please."

"Futile. You will die by my blade. I already went over the steps of how this was going to happen. You suffer, you fear me, and then if you're lucky you die quickly."

The blade hovered above Sonic's heart, just a hair's breadth away from killing.

"Please." Sonic could feel tears welling up in his eyes. "I can't. My mother. My friends. My sisters. You—"

"Your family and friends. How noble of you to remember them." Infinite moved the blade further down.

"Stella is only five. She can't— Please." Sonic's voice was breaking. It was all so real now.

He didn't want to die.

Infinite was wordless. The blade went through Sonic's stomach with a sickening noise. He winced.

Blood was already starting to pool around him. He could see the weird fake Shadow watching.

He remembered when he had outstretched a hand for Shadow as he plummeted from the ark. How pointless it was. How much it hurt.

"I— I'm sorry." He murmured. There was so much. He wasn't ready.

A second blade slotted into his heart with a squelch and a sharp pain. Everything hurt.

"Goodbye, Sonic the Hedgehog."

The glint of a red gemstone shone above him, phantom waltz playing as the light hit its faces.

Everything hurt so much. If he could just—

It was almost like falling asleep. Everything just started to fade. The waltz almost slowed to a crawl. Everything was disappearing.

It was just all too much.

It hurt so much.

And then suddenly, it didn't hurt anymore.

And then, everything became nothing.

He was gone.

#my writing #sonic voyage #sonic voyage spoilers #thiis iis the 8ne wwhere s8niic diies ::] #he''s fiine #he''ll get better #infinite the jackal #sonic the hedgehog #ii am just nevver n8rmal ab8ut vviillaiins liike iinfiiniite #ww8rk iin pr8gress

[annarts05]

hiya! I saw you had ✨inspiration✨ yesterday! congrats, but also I wanna know more! 👀

I have a lot to say about this haha <33

Ahhhh so I don't think I've really shared my wip with many people yet lol, partially because I never follow through with anything I talk about buuuuuuuut this was what I started out with:

Lonely past alcoholic Dale Shaftesbury drifts aimlessly from city to city in expensive vehicles, promoting his car brand, lacking purpose in his life with no one to call his own after losing his only daughter to an illness years ago. The problem is that he wasn’t there; he was away on a business trip, as usual. But hey, he still has a car brand to his name!  

When he suffers injury in a drinking and driving accident on a guilt-ridden night, he lands himself in a hospital room with 17-year-old Thomas Lamb, an annoyingly positive amputee patient who outright refuses to give Dale more than five minutes of peace. The contrast between the two is striking---whereas Dale has more earthly possessions than he knows what to do with, the boy in the bed beside him has a couple of foster parents who apparently decided to give up on him the moment he lost his leg and government-paid medical coverage that expires on his fast-approaching 18th birthday. 

Looking back, he never should’ve let that first ray of sunshine into his heart, because once he has, there’s no getting Thomas out. It’s a slippery slope, this loving another person, but maybe it was meant to be. After all, Thomas still has one leg with which to kick some much-needed sense into Dale. On the other hand, anyone needing Dale seems impossible. Unthinkable. 

But, unbelievably, Thomas needs him. And like it or not, Dale needs Thomas.  

The only question left—does he deserve Thomas? 

The only problem is that this is a contemporary story. I loved the idea, I researched a RIDICULOUS amount, but something was off. And now I know it's because I miss my fantasy/sci-fi world. I love reading contemporary stories, but I can't stay interested in my own long enough to finish writing it.

Besides, that was the basis for my current evolution of the wip. It's changed a lot.

So.

I've been brainstorming ideas to incorporate some kind of "other-worldly" ability, robots, AI, time travel, magic, something like that. And I got really stuck on time travel. Like, really stuck. One of those things where it just feels so right for the particular story.

And an advanced tech-heavy sci-fi/fantasy world will work perfectly for a lot of other aspects, plus I could create an advanced prosthesis for my character. I have a few ideas running in my head for what exactly I could do with said time travel, and they're still way too disorganized to put into words.

Also I might change Thomas' name to Thames q.q Undecided lmao

I'd love to hear your thoughts on any of it haha <333 Or if you have ideas, I'm always open :3

#besties

[witching-by-the-willow]

To me it's obvious Pride's book will be next, but I will be honest, I don't know how anyone can root for him, much less Vittoria? He torpedoed his entire marriage and let his own wife think he was sleeping around on her because of what people might say about him like this is high school. He's angry at Wrath for the curse when his marriage to Lucia is the main drive for it because he can't take accountability for his actions. I also still can't fathom how Kerri thought we'd accept or like Vittoria's quick turn around either, esp after she did things like degrade Emilia naked and IN CHAINS. I'd much rather have a Wrath prequel instead of all this, but even then, I worry how Kerri would execute it at this point. It just feels like she wants to write Netflix!Bridgerton and the circles of HELL are not the best setting for that imho. Sorry for venting, I guess I just wanted that other anon to know they're not alone on their lukewarm Pride feelings. 🤣

Okay, hello bestie, hopefully this is the time this finally gets posted. 😂♥️

You know what, you're absolutely right.

I get why Pride would do that, because he's...well, too proud to not show off his sin. But buddy, maybe you should not?? Have made your wife think?? You were cheating on her?? Their story is just so filled with miscommunication, and a bit of enabling of the same by Lucia's mother/the First Witch. But tbh, she only wanted the best for her daughter, and maybe if Pride had actually showed his love for Lucia, she would have budged. Because we do know he loves her, because he has never moved on from trying to find her. And with more miscommunication, she didn't bring up her doubts and questions to him either, which is annoying to me too.

Anyway, I think a part of why I want to see Pride and Lucia is because I want to see him put his namesake sin aside and dedicate himself to groveling and falling on his knees for her forgiveness. And well, communication. Please, for the love of god. 🤡

Also YES I know, right? Wrath has done nothing to get the curse, sir. Leave him alone. He has suffered because of it, despite not having had any hand in causing it. 😭

This is not to say I don't like Pride, I do. And I actually think he's quite interesting, so I'm waiting for his book desperately so he can get the development he needs so I can love him (as I love Sloth).

And oh bestie, I am so glad you agree with me on the Vittoria plotline. Her character has a lot of potential, but that last-minute redemption arc was a complete mess. And Emilia and Wrath are way better people than me, because no matter how ancient I was, I would NOT forgive her so soon for making my life hell (no pun intended) for months.

Like, ma'am. You could have made your points and had a conversation with your sister WITHOUT chaining her or poisoning her husband.

Not the mention the sexual frustration from pulling poor Emilia to whatever reason at the worst possible moments lmao 💀💀💀

Oh buddy, the thimgs I would do for a Wrath Prequel.....please, it would solve so many of my problems. I don't even need it to be a literary masterpiece, I just want to see what goes on in his head at any given moment. 😂🛐

Bestie, not the bridgerton comparison I'm akfjajgbajgnang I can't unthink it now 💀

But ngl, I'm looking forward to the stories on various princes. I like the world Kerri Maniscalco has built and I like the characters too. Even if the books turn out to be a mess, I'll probably keep reading anyway, because I just have a lot of fun with this setting.

Also like. I need the book on Sloth. Tell me more about this prince of hell who is a medicine scholar and an introvert and has a massive library in his house that he spends his time reading in instead of getting involved in hell-drama. You can't look me in the eyes and tell me he does not deserve his own book.

Well, this turned into quite the ramble lol. Thank you for this ask, I love talking about these books, and any and all books! ❤️

#anons my beloved #💕 #asks #prince wrath #emilia di carlo #princewitch #prince pride #lucia #vittoria di carlo #prince sloth #kingdom of the wicked #kerri maniscalco

[casspurrjoybell-22]

Master - Chapter 10c

*Warning: Adult Content*   

Wenquie yawned the edge of his tail scratching at the black-tipped ears that now sat on top of his head. 

Wenquie had gotten himself cursed by a witch centuries ago, cursed with an immortal life that he saw as a gift initially. 

But centuries later he was tired of living and tried every thinkable way to off himself, of course, none worked but he still tried.

"You should've told me he was special to you," Wenquie says after a moment of silence making me chuckle helplessly. 

"Yeah, I know sharing your feelings is an unthinkable affair for you but I would've thought twice about this."

"Thought twice and still carried it through," I challenge, raising a brow that is quickly met with a shrug of admittance.

"May I ask why you of all people, have a human slave and refuse to use him?" 

"He is not a slave," I growl in warning making Wenquie's tail slip up in defense. "He grew up in a slave house, his mind is fucked in all sorts of way and I'm trying to help him escape that."

"That's why you haven't touched him?" He enquires doubtfully.

"He sees himself as a slave who needs to serve his Master, that's what he wants to happen between us," I explain making Wenquie's frown deepen even more.

"No, he doesn't," Wenquie says slowly as if speaking to a skittish animal. 

"He sees you as his Master and he wants to serve you because he wants to please you."

"You just reworded what I said," I deadpan.

"No there's a difference," he argues confidently. 

"I can't get into your mind but he's human so it was easy to slip in and connect his thoughts with the scents he emits. He doesn't see you as some Master he has to serve because he is a slave and that's his role. He sees you as his one and only Master, someone he wants to serve not has to and he wants to because of how you treat him, different from the ways he knows. It's something he wants, which I can tell you is the only thing he actually wants."

My mind blanks as I let Wenquie's words tumble around in my head, the meaning of them trying to seep through my preconstructed thoughts. 

Kalem had tried to tell me something along these lines not too long ago in the kitchen but I'd interpreted that as him liking the Master he got and an attempt to serve me the same way he would any other.

Wenquie's words suggested something else.

“Literally just talk to him about it, I don't understand why it's so hard for people to talk," Wenquie groans as he stretches, his true form slipping away as his tails and ears disappear. "But not today, he's not going to get a single thought through his head that isn't sex."

"I seriously hate you," I promise, the words only making Wenquie smile.

"I left everything in the garage and already loaded my payment, now I'm off to annoy Malcolm," he informs as he stands to his feet. "I heard he picked up and Elf and I am truly dying to see what that looks like." 

I stay planted to the couch even after Wenquie takes his leave, trying to wrap my head around his words and what laid before Kalem and me for the night. 

I'd lived long enough to witness more than one Wolf Heat and was never fond of the wave that took over the species like prisoners.

To imagine Kalem suffering the same fate made my fangs ache with discomfort.

Unable to hide from the inevitable any longer, I make my way to Kalem's room with a container of his favorite fruits, all traces of blood gone from a quick shower. 

I knock gently on the door, opening once a soft response came from inside.

Kalem sat curled in the center of his bed, eyes red-rimmed and face still wet with fresh tears that continued to flow. 

The image cracked its way through me as I made my way to him, sitting on the edge of the bed as I set the container aside for the moment.

"How are you feeling?" I ask firstly, checking to see if it already started. "Are you hot?"

"No Master," Kalem whispers gently as he looks up at me. "I'm sorry Master."

"I know you are," I reply with a small smile. "But sadly, there's nothing I can do to fix this."

"P-Punishment," he suggests with a wince as if the word pained him to even utter.

"I don't believe in punishments," I say clearly before taking a breath. "But you do need to learn from this, we'll discuss that after we get through tonight."

"Tonight?" Kalem asks almost hopefully.

"It's going to be a long night for the two of us Kalem," I say honestly. "The deal you made will affect both of us but you more so."

"I'm sorry M-Master," Kalem says once more taking the fight from me as I pull him into my lap. 

He comes easily, clenching onto me as I wrap my arms around him tightly to keep him to me. 

"I know but I'm the one who should be apologizing," I admit as I run a  gentle hand over his back. "I haven't been listening to what you've been trying to tell me or even show me, and it led to this.”

"No, Master is perfect," Kalem says pulling back to glare at me with determination.

"Your Master is very far from perfect," I retort making his frown deepen. 

"You're wrong," Kalem protests once more. "Master is nice and kind, I-I like my Master."

I tip Kalem's chin up slightly before leaning down to connect our lips, I let my teeth nibble at his lips making him shiver as he sunk into the kiss. 

Kalem's small sounds in response made my head heavy with lust as he turns within my grasp to scale my body for more. 

I pull us apart when Kalem's rigid length could be felt against my leg, knowing now was definitely not the time to carry on. 

Kalem's eyes were dazed as he swiped his tongue along his lips, wetting them in the most inviting manner that had me hardening alongside him.

"We'll have plenty of time to do more of that in the future but not before we talk," I manage breathlessly making Kalem pout in the most adorable manner. 

"First we get through tonight."

‘If we get through tonight...’