#words cannot express the SHRIEK that i shrieked

[slythereen]

the las vegas cooldown car still feels like a fever dream when i think about it too long

#like??? #words cannot express the SHRIEK that i shrieked #when i realized they werent robbing us of cooldown room #and that there was a CAMERA in the CAR #i was THRILLEd #vegas delivered she ate an icon #checo serving so many memes #lestappen being lestappen #maxs thighs................. i digress #lestappen #tag real tags later

[onyourhyuck]

Race Lover. | L.DH

— Prologue: 〞 You know damn well what I want, and you’re about to give it to me. Whether you like it or not.〃

— Summary: On the day you and your boyfriend Donghyuck had an argument. When Donghyuck won his race he wants his reward from you, and he’s not taking a no for an answer.

— Genre: Smut Smut Smut. Established relationship. Argument but angry sex to make up for it. Donghyuck’s kinda a provoking dick but it’s cool. Unprotected sex. Overstimulation and edging. Kinda like a punishment. Donghyuck loves to tease Y/n. They do it inside a car. Car Sex.

— Notes: Wanna Ride? — The Series

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The crowds were cheering for your boyfriend who has the people in the crowd wrapped around his finger like a small ribbon tied into a bow. Your eyes were stuck on the race and when it has came to an end Donghyuck was announced as the winner. You saw your boyfriend come out of the car and pull off the helmet letting the free black hair fall and shake off any remaining sweat. You hate to be the party police but you cannot help but feel your annoyance shriek through your bones because your boyfriend can really be very much plaguy. Today was a very important day for him and you. He had this great opportunity to race and win a lot — a lot of money. The race was also very difficult so Donghyuck has been training for a month for this and it looks like it paid off. He managed to win the race and beat some competitors that are very good too. However today on the way to the venue your boyfriend and you argued over the most ridiculous things.

The argument was ridiculous because Donghyuck made it feel like that. It’s like he nearly invalidates your own opinion. You aren’t usually the one to be petty but you can’t help but be petty right now. You only told him he should’ve taken out the trash today before they left and that he shouldn’t be so dismissive of everything just because he’s solely focusing on the race. You see Donghyuck’s always participated in this races between cars and motorcycles. He is a biker afterall. You met him on a motorcycle and you fell in love with how intimidating he was on the outside but on the inside he had another side he doesn’t really show anyone; a side with sentiment.

You told him to pay more attention to his surroundings. Donghyuck took that quite personally because he can’t be seen wasting time on other things like the ones you want him too because he’s trying to get into the focused zone so he can win. He knows how much of a distraction you can be so Donghyuck would rather not have you do this to him. But you did do it to him. You fought in the car and when you arrived in the venue he saw you take a giant huff and walked off to the crowds to join your friends who are cheering for him too. Donghyuck can only laugh at your reaction a little. Laughing in disbelief and slight annoyance too, but mostly entertainment knowing you’re pissed over something he was honest about.

It doesn’t matter to him anymore however. Donghyuck won the race and he expects you to be happy and take back your words from earlier. He expects you to be completely an overflowing mountain of joy when he comes towards you putting the helmet away to the side as he approaches the crowds and saw you standing up so you can walk towards him.

Why wasn’t he seeing a joyful face on you? Donghyuck only saw a grump expression which just makes him feel even more able to laugh at you. You can really be something, something stubborn sometimes.

Your figure fits perfectly on the dress you’re wearing today he can’t help but admire and check you out as freely as he wants. He wanted to tell you the dress looks good on you in the car earlier when you’re arriving to the venue you. But things clearly took another turn with the argument so that didn’t give him the time to compliment you. You let a little small and monotone voice. “Congrats, Donghyuck.”

‘Oh you’re so sulking on me.’ He can’t help but think this to himself with a low laugh.

Donghyuck was left standing in front of you as you congratulate him but shouldn’t the girlfriend be a little more hyperactive balling with excitement? What happened to a kiss on the lips as a congratulation? Donghyuck was expecting you to leap into his arms and kiss him like no tomorrow and then tell him ‘I knew you would be able to win!’ And so on and on. But no his girlfriend decided to give him a small ‘Congratulations, Donghyuck’ with his name which you never really use unless you’re very much upset with him.

Nonetheless your boyfriend will refuse to back away now and so he decides to brush off your own angry behaviour towards him like as if it never occurred or happened. Nothing at all. “Hey baby,” Donghyuck said with a little smile that was a motion between teasing you for your words or the fact that you decided to continue this argument makes him want to explode. He comes forward wrapping his arms around your waist pulling you closer to a kiss in which your face turns around halfway like a half ajar door and reject his kiss on the lips.

Donghyuck didn’t want to make it seem like he was rejected in public so he kissed your cheek instead. You must really be mad at him if you dodged him completely. You never really do this to him ever. Donghyuck tightens his arms around your waist and looks over at your face expression.

Your face expression still has this look about it that makes it seem like you’re held at a gun point being here at this event. Even though you were the most excited person to be here. That was until the argument happened and took over your entire mind so you couldn’t focus on anything else.

Donghyuck let’s out a little laugh that you only can hear and he fixates the darken orbs down at your face telling you to look at him and start behaving back to your usual self because he won’t stand for whatever you’re doing. “Why are you so grumpy? I just won, the whole point of these races.” He rolls his eyes a little because he cannot believe he’s dealing with a girlfriend that’s mad at him and not even happy like everyone else is right now. Even he was happy and now he’s frustrated with you. “I just won and all I get is a grumpy face, Y/n?” He said again bringing his round dark eyes to stare into your glistening eyes.

You don’t want to tell him why you’re mad because that’s like telling him everything he’s done wrong and you’d rather have him figure it out so you just avoid his eyes from eating you alive. "You know why i'm upset at you right now."

Oh yeah he does but Donghyuck won't admit that he knows when he can hear it from your pretty red mouth instead.

Donghyuck then got another idea and he decides it’s time for the real thing he was so excited and impatient for all day.

“How about you give me my reward now and i’ll tell you why you’re upset.” Donghyuck now seethes approaching you with one of his hands around your waist again. You feel his hot breath staring down at your lips with eagerness. You haven’t kissed him once in the past twenty minutes and he feels deprived. You’re like a drug to him. He can’t go without your lips at all.

You stare at him with furrowing eyes as your eyebrows rose up too scrunching your top ends together. What reward? You don’t quite understand what he wants from you. And then your mind clicks on what exactly he wants when you saw the way he’s staring down at your lips and the way his hands are around your waist like he doesn’t plan on taking them off anytime soon. Donghyuck wont be letting you go without this damn ‘reward’ he wants it seems. Donghyuck wants to move on and forget why you’re upset already because he knows you’re just carrying unnecessary drama on you and instead he thinks this reward is much more important right now. The reward was much more valuable than the large amount of money he won as the prize for winning the race. Donghyuck thinks you’re above it all.

Donghyuck’s voice comes out as breathy as the sand flowing in the desert air and as equally hot as the blazing desert sun. Donghyuck can feel your lips quiver as his face was now super close to yours barely leaving much space between you both. But then again what is space when Donghyuck is involved? It doesn’t exist. He never quite understood personal space when your boyfriend is around you. He never will. Donghyuck wants you around all the time and you don’t mind this usually — if you weren’t pissed off that is. “Come on Y/n, I was working hard all month to win this race for you and now I’ve won. I won this race just for you…”

You let your monotone voice falter downwards into a lower octave as you feel Donghyuck sweet talking you into giving him what he wants from you however you’re not going to fall so easy. “I can tell.” You seethe a little with annoyance between your teeth. Your voice was so flat and without emotion he wasn’t getting excited by it at all and so his eyelids lower at your same stern expression you’ve kept on.

Donghyuck sighs as his hands loosen around your waist now and your handsome boyfriend pulls away with a low smirk. “Well the thing is…”

Your boyfriend now slowly starts to reconnect his hands around your waist again as he lets out a little breathy laugh forward. He has to admit when you’re rejecting him like this it’s denying him even more but the way he wants this reward it just keeps fuelling him to continue. Donghyuck loves it when you’re like this, upset at him and rejecting him.

He wonders how much longer can you reject him for?

When the hands reconnected like a puzzle when they made contact on your beautiful shaped waist pulling you closer to your boyfriend’s body. He wore the black leather jacket and underneath wasn’t anything but his bare golden skin. You can’t help but notice the gloves he wore around his hands were still on and they knead your waist between the folds as his arms were like silky wrapping keeping you together like you’re his birthday present. You wonder what’s going to happen if this continues. Your boyfriends hands now gave your waist a tight squeeze to see your reaction. He wasn’t left disappointed when he saw your stern expression start to form a singular crack on your face. Like a mirror when he read your skin because he saw you enjoying the action like a blossoming rose.

Donghyuck slowly as he moves a little closer by leaning towards your face whispering with his lips close to your. “I want my reward. And I’m sure you know what it is.” Speaking matter of factly you do know what he wants. You can read him like a newspaper. He’s not trying to hide it at all what he wants even though you’re surrounded by massive crowds in the distant and anyone could see and hear the both of you.

He shows a soft smile and his tone has slightly changed to more serious and firm now that he’s not messing about. Donghyuck’s patience is nonexistent at this point in forward so you have little to no choice. Donghyuck is demanding his reward, now.

“Reward? You won the trophy and money what else could you want?” Your eyebrows firmly squeeze together in distraught as he said he was demanding his reward?

“Well….” The dangerous voice leaks out.

Donghyuck gently tugs on the top of your dress shirt to bring you closer to him. He’s gonna get that reward from you and nobody else will be seeing it.

“I won and I want my reward from my lady. It’s the prize I really want right now.” Donghyuck gives a cocky smirk that he knows is making you mad but also curious to see what price he wants. It’s not just about the car race, but he wants something much more. He needs you in other words.

“Well, you can wait for that reward because I’m not going to give it to you right now.” Your voice now said the minute he’s pulling at your shirt to bring you closer to him even more to get the point across to you what he’s asking for. “Plus, we’re far from home. We can’t do anything.” You said smartly back acting like a know-it-all speaking like you have no place to even do this anywhere. But Donghyuck wasn’t planning to go home for this reward, his car would do fine, Donghyuck made up his mind on this without even needing to tell you.

〞 You know damn well what I want, and you’re about to give it to me. Whether you like it or not.〃you heard your boyfriend said to you with a threatening tone that he will do whatever he needs to if it means he’s going to have you on your knees or more.

Your face looses the original colour on your face now because of how demanding he is from you he’s never been this demanding you swore, this is the first time he’s ever been like this.

Donghyuck let’s out a little laugh at your shocked eyes he enjoys seeing them widen as day before he faced you again. “I don’t care where we are.” Donghyuck spoke firmly to his girlfriend as he pulled on your shirt a little harder. He’s very determined to get his reward right here and now.

As the both of you are speaking the people around them are noticing the tension between the two of you now. Some of Donghyuck’s friends who are also racers — Jaemin and Jeno were watching the both of you from far away between the crowds.

Donghyuck lowers his voice as he spoke and watched your eyes panic a little. “We can just stay in the car.. I know you want it as well. I saw you staring at me as I was taking off my helmet and as I won the race. We both know you want it.” He now said like this was a court matter. He didn’t give you any time to defend yourself on your case. Donghyuck was right however you were watching him with slight intent to just rip the clothes off. But that’s because he’s always looking so fine. You can’t help it, it’s like a natural reflex for you to be checking out your handsome boyfriend.

You feel yourself becoming more annoyed with him because he’s now even taking in the surroundings of where they are. Again. He’s doing it again he doesn’t care where he is and Donghyuck thinks he’s owning the world by acting this way it really much annoys you and when you were about to say something, something to tell him off and tell Donghyuck to act more normally appropriate since the both of you are in the spotlight between people, your body was pushed out of the view and dragged across to the parking lots away from everyone’s crowds. You tried to tell him to not do this because you don’t want to get caught. But Donghyuck? He has zero thoughts aside from taking a taste of you and your beautiful lips. You’re starting to begin to think your boyfriend thinks this is a race too.

He was lacking impatience. He’s rushing to get to you and this reward you’re about to give him. Donghyuck was definitely treating you like you’re a race to finish. In fact you’re his favourite thing in the world if you don’t count racing the competitions he does all his life nearly.

Donghyuck knew you’re about to disagree more with the idea knowing you’re upset and too upset to give him the reward. But did Donghyuck really care right now if you’re upset? He’s only thinking about the reward because he’s done something good for you and now he needs it otherwise, he’s going to be commanding you for it.

You scoff as the sight of your car you came together with was coming into view. The parking lot was filled with thousands of other cars on each ten floors. The race was quite a popular thing. Donghyuck was the main attraction. He’s used to seeing this many people come and watch him so they can cheer him on and on. You tug on the wrist that he’s pulling you by behind himself. “I’m upset at you.” Your tone mutters a little annoyed that he’s not going to wait for his reward, you find him to be impatient and impulsive and very much reckless right now for your liking.

You always thought your boyfriend will be reasonable but God how wrong you are about this. “Donghyuck did you hear me? I said I’m upset at you—“ Your voice cuts off. The notion of yourself being pulled inside the passenger seat with your boyfriend Donghyuck at the driver seat and you scowl in response clearly not amused by how he’s dragging you around like you’re a pretty doll ready to be ruined.

Your boyfriend took a small sheepish smile as he hears you repeat yourself only to have you shut up instantly when he made you go inside the passenger seat and him entering the drivers seat. Donghyuck shut the driver side door and locked it so nobody can disturb you and him now. He wouldn’t want that, to have someone interrupt his sweet reward. Now that you both are in the car and he slowly took off his leather jacket and your eyes couldn’t deny the view. He looks freaking amazing, how does he look so damn attractive just taking off a leather jacket? You hate that you’re so mad at him right now but he’s making it harder to stay mad at him.

He saw that you’re staring at him with your fixated eyes on his bare skin now that the leather jacket slips off his upper body and he spoke firmly with a cocky grin that makes your face feel flushed when you’re already caught enjoying the view of your boyfriend shirtless. “I know you’re upset but you’re still gonna give me my reward. You shouldn’t be acting stubborn when I told you what I wanted.” Donghyuck reaches out his hands behind your head and he slowly and firmly pulls you even closer to him. Now your heads are very close and your faces are barely an inch away from one another.

Your boyfriend takes his time looking into your eyes that are trembling by how close he’s pulling you with his hands that feel so rough and firm. “I don’t think I ever agreed to giving you this ‘reward’ Donghyuck.” You begin to address with a lacking of excitement and confidence in your voice he’s he has you this close for your comfort.

He chuckles a little bit at your words, now he really doesn’t care about what the people will see or can see. He’s never cared for people’s opinions or feelings. Donghyuck doesn’t care about what happens in this car anymore because one, he’s going to show you just how an impatience man can be dangerous when you keep him waiting.

Donghyuck softly adds in a dangerous tone. “You don’t have to, my love. Because I’m not gonna ask. I’m gonna demand it.” He brings his other hand on your cheek and with both hands, he firmly holds onto your head and pulled her towards him for a kiss. The kiss was so hard to reject you didn’t know what came over you to be blushing this hard? You never really felt this warm on your face from a heated kiss. It’s not like he hasn’t ever kissed you before but maybe it’s because this scenario and situation was so complex and different from your usual outcome kisses.

Donghyuck kissed you like he was famished. You’re everything he’s ever been thinking about when racing and thanks to this he’s won. You don’t even realise it how much you motivate him. Donghyuck knows you’re upset but he hopes you understand what he’s speaking and communicate through this kiss. You take in everything. He’s kissing you so deeply.

But you’re not kissing him back as you register what he’s doing. It feels too good and you felt slightly frozen and now you decide to not kiss back to show that you need a little bit of words from him and not just an action to make up. You don’t like being upset at him, you really don’t but sometimes it’s good to hear an apology right? More than an action. Sometimes.

The kiss breaks away once Donghyuck took notice of your lack of kissing back and he shown a little irritation at his girlfriend who pulls away from the kiss. When you moved your face away from the kiss to break it you look at him now as you’re asking for him to do something for you. To show that he feels slight decency towards you to apologise.

“Apologise.” You now broke in silence leaning against the passenger seat in the car you’re both in together sitting in the representative seats.

However your boyfriend despite showing a little irritation on his face when his eyebrows scrunch up only a little for a minute. He still keeps his hands on your cheek and cupping your chin with his right hand, the smirk on his devilishly handsome never leaves either.

“You want me to apologise? You want me to say….”Donghyuck gives her a sly smirk again. You noticed how he used the fake surprise voice to repeat exactly what you demand of him. Donghyuck paused now as he leans a little closer, and he spoke in this taunting tone to mockingly apologise so he can rile you and your boiling mouth up some more. “ ‘I’m sorry, my love.’ So now you can give me the reward I deserve from my girlfriend.”

He’s impatient you can tell. It’s quite obvious when his body was trembling with the need to rush in and he really doesn’t quite understand what red light means to stop. Donghyuck raced for a living, he’s still racing for a living in fact. Of course he doesn’t know how to control and pause himself for a minute. Donghyuck needs everything in his life to be fast and furious. Quite literally.

However you didn’t appreciate how he tries to get away with it by slightly taunting you so you decided to do the same and make Donghyuck wait some more as you’re stretching it out. “What are you sorry for?” Your voice comes out now said keeping your eyebrows up in waiting for a response.

You smirk now enjoying seeing the irritation on his face, so now you’re not the only one feeling slightly irritated.

Donghyuck somehow knew you’d be like this. You’re only trying to get back at him for making you mad earlier on before the both of you arrived at the venue. He feels himself like he dug his own grave today when you’re clearly trying to annoy him. Or maybe you’re punishing him in a way for making Donghyuck wait and wait.

Donghyuck narrowed his eyes at your words and spoke a tiny bit annoyed with that question. “Why are you making this difficult, baby? Isn’t it enough that I apologised?” All Donghyuck wanted right now is his reward, he didn’t care about the argument the both of you had a while ago because right now, he just wants one thing from you, his girlfriend.

He saw your silence now as a way of waiting.

He groans knowing you won’t let this go until he’s specific on why he’s apologising and so he leans a little closer now. “I’m sorry for not apologising sooner and for not listening to you enough, can you now please give me my reward? I’m about to lose my mind here.” Donghyuck said as matter of fact he feels like he will go crazy if you don’t hurry up. You feel satisfied hearing him now say this out loud and all the anger you had was now gone.

You didn’t hesitate now to lap your mouth around his own and start to kiss him like the world was ending. Donghyuck never thought he would crave another adrenaline boost rush from anything else but racing until he met you. You do so much more than any race can make him feel. The thrill of racing was nothing in equal to the thrill of fucking you in his car right now, and that’s what he wants, and that’s what he shall get from you. Your makeout became sloppy real fast which was fine considering he took control real fast and pushed you at the back seats of the car where Donghyuck lead you very carefully to make you lean down. He didn’t waste a time to slip off this dress and unbutton it with the two skilful hands while you’re there too focused on how his mouth was draining every life energy from you.

Your boyfriend’s eyes open as he saw the dress slipping off your body and going down somewhere on the car’s floor. He didn’t care where the clothes end up because right now he doesn’t have the use for them. The makeout travels down with Donghyuck kissing down your neck and meets your collarbones. He gives them a soft greet with his mouth sucking on the soft skin and then going even lower to your cleavage gently pursing them above your breasts. Your boyfriend took gently care of you with his kisses but the rougher hands were gripping your hips squeezing them making you spread a little more and signals you to wrap your legs around his own lower body now.

You gasp when your nipples were teased between the two fingertips and you feel like you had to arch forward as the striking sensation feels like a pinch you cannot get rid of.

He smirks by your reaction. Donghyuck loves to hear you sound so helpless and it’s quite amusing nonetheless because he knows how sensitive you can get and when he rubs his mouth around your neck sucking on the nape of yours, he saw you shudder with a soft sigh. Your hands fiddle around his forearms. “You still mad at me baby?” He cockily adds into your ears pressing a kiss on top of them.

Your cheeks chest rises up with hitching breath you intake as he kissed your ear gently and whispers onto them. You lowly murmur with a soft voice that comes out at the slightest of moans. “Not much…”

Donghyuck adds lowly. “Good…because I feel like i should punish you a little for making me wait so long for my sweet reward.” He quips going down kissing you now with slight rougher pair of lips as his hands now multitask while he’s kissing you so deeply you’re at loss at his feet. He’s punishing you now a little, like he said he will.

Donghyuck bites on your lower lip sucking on it again and kissing you reconnecting your face back into the roughly deeply kiss as his hands were taking off his jeans and the belt off throwing it somewhere behind or in the front of the car where you’re not seated anymore. Your boyfriend rubs his harden cock between your stomach as his body grinds against it. You feel a gasp coming out when you feel his dick touch around your stomach surface.

He smirks pulling away from your lips and saw your gaze to down at how it’s slapping on your stomach, practically begging to be inside you and your eyes tremble at the sight. Donghyuck kissed the sides of your temples in a dangerous tone he spoke. “You see what you’ve been denying me from? You’re the cause of this baby.” He sweetly brushed his hands through your thick hair and watched your fallen expression stay on your face. Donghyuck loves seeing the light in your eyes leave and the hope diminish. It’s always so fun because he feels like you’re at a loss of words every-time you meet his cock, you forget how girthy and perfect it is.

You look up at your boyfriend when he pressed a kiss on the sides of your temples so sweetly speaking but at the same time it felt a little condescending and taunting? Your boyfriend enjoys making you feel slightly small. When you were distracted by the kiss he pressed on the sides of your temples you feel the way his cock slips between your open wide thighs making you spread even more. Donghyuck brushed along your clit with his hand and he cups it before aligning his harden wood between your two folds. He kissed your breasts once again as the first push was to start and you hitch a little.

Every single time you let out a hitch whenever he enters you. It’s a loving and sensitive feeling at the same time the passion and the arousing urge was there and you can’t shake that feeling from anything else in this world. Donghyuck’s body knows how to make you feel ten times more like you’re travelling different universe to universe.

When your boyfriend made its way inside your body with himself filling you up already alone with his size and the girth of how wide he was, it feels like you’re a stuffed animal. Or a stuffed toy more like to your boyfriend. He took the pleasure in thrusting while holding you in this embrace position as you’re both in the back of the car. It’s going to have to make do because it’s not the best place to have sex since the space was quite limited. But your boyfriend’s need for you was limitless.

If he wants to take you in the back of the car, so be it. Donghyuck doesn’t care if he has to hold you into an embrace while he fucks the absolutely shit out of you, if anything he enjoys how close it makes you guys become. You don’t think you ever hugged him while he’s going to roughly pump himself in and out of your body but it feels nicer than you thought. The way his arms were wrapped around your back holding you from wiggling and wobbling forward or on the sides because he’s trying his best to thrust on your insides out. You feel your eyes rolling a little back when your boyfriend continues to deeply enter and pull out, just to enter again and grow even deeper and longer inside you. It feels so amazing. You feel like your moans couldn’t be helped.

Donghyuck slips out a hand over your stomach pressing on it. You were wondering why he’s pressing on this position but when the movements of your boyfriend’s hips fasten you can now understand why. He was feeling himself inside you.

He lets out a deep chuckle as you groan when the speed has changed from alright to now you’re unable to handle it and so you let out many wails of your moans coming out of your throat. “Hmm, you looks so pretty like this Y/n. Can you feel that? That’s me inside you.” You feel his questions running in through your right ear out to the left like you’re flushing it out. You can’t even answer as you bite your bottom lip and your beautiful face flushed red was only watching him.

He could stare at your flushed face as some beads of sweat on the side was running down. He finds it incredibly difficult to control himself when you look like this. So out of this world and aloof while you’re getting your body out wrecked by him.

The lack of words from you while you’re moaning was such a great factor because Donghyuck was just teasing you. “Cat got your tongue, baby? What happened to your words. You looked like you had plenty to say earlier.”

You roll your eyes a little as you shut them tight when Donghyuck suddenly moves his right dominant hand over your clit rubbing it with his two middle fingers to overstimulate the pleasure you’re already feeling towards a thousand mark and not a hundred. He extends each pleasure to torture you some more while he’s speaking between rugged lips and waist while your legs are around his body tightly squeeze. You squirm now underneath him. “Fuck fuck fuck… Donghyuck… don’t. I won’t last if you keep doing this.” your pleas were acknowledged but not a worry for your boyfriend.

Donghyuck chuckles. He doesn’t care if you don’t last because it was the whole motive for him to get you finished and have you overstimulate until you’re literally crying for him to stop. “Baby that’s the whole point.” He whispers and went down even more on you pulling you into another heated and angry kiss almost. In a way he’s not angry at you but he prefers to use the aggressive side of emotions to keep you going since he’s punishing you while also getting his sweet reward he’s been denied from you far too long. But now it doesn’t matter because he’s getting it and Donghyuck is thrilled.

Your boyfriend’s fingers continue to tease and play with your clit as his cock was deeply buried inside your walls and you feel a sudden rush of water flood over you and through your vision you feel like you’re drowning.

Your orgasm washed over you like a gigantic wave and your moans were cut off by your teary eyes starting to flow down your cheeks as your orgasm began to flow down and all around Donghyuck’s cock. He felt the massive flowering attack your body did and it looks like you blossomed even refer shade on your face.

He coos at your dazed expression as Donghyuck removed his hand from your swollen red clit now that he worked it out way too much, perhaps he went a little too far with the overstimulation as you’re now soaking the car seats with your pussy juices but he doesn’t mind.

Donghyuck could care if you damage his car because he values a lot more and right now, Donghyuck was enjoying the big orgasm you gave him on his cock while he’s thrusting inside you now satisfying you and you rummage through your mind that feels so weak and disorienting you can’t barely remember anything else right now.

Your voice was now weaker sounding but you’re moaning between your own words. “Crap… I’m sorry I made a mess.” You grunt when Donghyuck held your hips down even more and he smirks at your apology. He didn’t even need it.

“For what, you’re doing so well right now?” Donghyuck chuckles a little at you as he kissed your cheek. You feel your mind going blank again when he spoke so softly to you.

“The car…” you mutter back and your boyfriend grins amused. He never thought you’d be able to apologise for something like this when you don’t need to. He kissed your forehead. “Forget the car. I’ll clean it later.” He said sweetly and brushed back your hair. “Do you think you can give me another one? Please?” He whispers as he kissed your jawline and you feel your body sinking into the car seats at the back.

You couldn’t refuse such a request from your boyfriend when he’s treating you much softer now even though his body was working it’s way of drilling through you.

Donghyuck saw you give him a soft nod and he continues to work his way with his hand around your clit again, he started slower than the first time since the first orgasm was quite big toll on you. However soon the more and more this continues in the back of your car you feel Donghyuck’s thrusts become intense and his fingers brushing on your clit with fast long strokes.

You were a moaning mess again and Donghyuck locked it when you are getting like this, looking so beautiful and a mess at the same time: you’re a beautiful mess that he enjoys making you look like it and at the end of the day he knew you would forgive him and this was your way of making up too.

Your second orgasm came over quickly and you feel the car shake between your movements now. You’re praying no one you know will see you and Donghyuck like this because that’s humiliating beyond anything you would ever experienced.

You don’t think you can ever come back to that if this happened to you.

Donghyuck saw your expression falter and you arch your head back a little into the car seat leaner even more like you’re melting into them and he witnessed more water coming out of you. He loves seeing how each orgasm only became more intense and more and more coming out of you. He was proud and he gave you a little peck on your lips as you feel so out of your depth you cannot handle another orgasm you feel like, it would be the death of you.

He heard your whispers slip out a ‘Oh’s…’ in many repeats as he thrusts and held you into an embrace again as Donghyuck whispers praises now, he wasn’t condescending as he was usually doing so to taunt you. Your boyfriend was praising you so you can hang on and wait for him now to finish.

“You’re doing so well my love, just wait for me now okay? I’m almost there.”

He was telling you to wait for him now, he rams himself a little harder into you and your stomach clench around the air you’re sucking in with deep pants as your heart races each time with his throaty grunts and muscles clenching by your body. Your boyfriend’s body feels so good inside you it amazes you how each time you do it it’s a different experience and feeling.

Your heart was racing and it feels like you’re a racer of your own now when Donghyuck is rushing to get his own high, he feels like he’s back at the competition again; in that car racing to win the race. You make him feel like a Race Lover again.

The next thing you know it you see your boyfriend’s expression turn into a dark one and you somehow can read it as he’s about to really hit the last bit of his energy to engine through his own orgasm. You anticipate and prepare yourself once Donghyuck’s shaft was twitching so much, he pushed further with his pulsing throbbing cock buried deep inside your cunt.

“Oh… god, Y/n… fuck, I’m there, I’m almost there.” And when he said this he feels the final thrust overtake everything and he’s spilling himself deep inside your pussy with all his mighty soul gives you. His length pumps you up full of his cum and you feel like you’re exhilarating from how much he was racing inside your punching walls to finish off, deeply inside you like it was his dream come true. Donghyuck breathes heavily as he hung his head low to look at you. Your chest was rising up with each breath you took because he takes everything you had in your body away. All your energy and oxygen were gone.

Your eyes drop down at his lips and you lean slowly, very slowly because your whole back is now aching from the position you guys were in without much choice.

Donghyuck felt a soft loving peck on his lips as you leaned in to kiss him.

You whisper to him. “You happy now that you have your reward?” And Donghyuck met with your eyes again as he smiles holding you by having his hands around the back of your body pull you closer, he leans in kissing your face in multiple different directions: He kissed the side of your temples first, then your cheeks, then your chin and your nose, and finally your lips softly.

He’s pampering you with kisses because he wants to show you he is happy and grateful you gave him what he wanted. “Mhm I’m happy, thank you.” He said softly and pulls away from the kisses now. Even though he knew you can’t resist him and his demanding presence anyways.

You’re the only race he can do all over again, and make him feel like his Race Lover self.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu. Reblog This Fic and Follow me for more updates it helps a girl out.<3

#nct fanfiction #nct smut #nct x reader #nct u scenarios #nct hard hours #nct series #nct fic #nct recs #nct scenarios #haechan smut #nct haechan smut #haechan fic #haechan soft hours #haechan hard hours #haechan hard thoughts #haechan headers #haechan imagines #haechan drabbles #haechan scenarios #haechan suggestive #nct haechan #nct masterlist #nct imagines #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #nct dream x reader #nct dream hard hours #nct dream hard thoughts #nct u smut #nct u reactions

[disneyprincemuke]

you called * cl16

you called, so he came.

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: none.

notes: well, now i'm in the mood to write this bc i just found out my ex-boyfriend now has a girlfriend so i aM PULLING THIS OUT FROM THE DEEPEST PART OF MY SADNESS AND GUT

(i quit drinking) // (to forget you) // (you called)

charles wasn't actually going to come. when you called him, you were slurring and stumbling over your words about how you wanted to see him. he told you it wasn't a great idea until you started full-out sobbing on the phone about how much you missed him.

it was then shortly cut to max scolding you in the background. something about how he already told you not to call charles, but you still did. then max took the phone from you and told him off sternly that he better not show up.

yet, here you are in the passenger seat of his car, buckling your seatbelt on.

carmen was more than shocked to see him at max's front door, but max blew his head off when he walked by and caught a glimpse of him.

but you managed to convince him to let you go, promising the man that you would send him a text message when you got back to your hotel.

"thank you for coming," you say barely above a whisper. your eyes are set on straight the car parked in front of his.

he sees your thumbs fumbling with one another. "of course," he answers, "you called."

you turn your head to the window, completely away from him. being in this car only brought back so many memories. you're a lot more sober than you were about 20 minutes ago, after you'd puked in the toilet after a quick sob.

being in this car gave you flashbacks to when you'd be driving around on the way to parties or the bar with the grid boys. it was in this car that he'd driven you around monte-carlo for your first date, ending up by the bay into a private yacht for dinner.

“but why?” you turn back to him, your doe eyes piercing into his. they’re slightly red from the crying, your makeup has been taken off (courtesy of max after you cried and puked), and your lips swollen. “why did you come?”

charles can’t find it in himself to start driving. he turns his head, avoiding your gaze. “i wanted to come see you.” and very softly, he adds, “i missed you.”

you freeze. you were expecting numerous types of responses but him admitting that he missed you was not one of them.

“what?” there's an expression on your face that he cannot fathom at all.

"i said i missed you," he says slower. though, with most of your relationship spent in the presence of alcohol, he knows pretty well that you're not even drunk anymore. you're just using it as an excuse,.

you stare at him, mouth gaping wordlessly at him. you scoff audibly and click your tongue. "you miss me?" you shriek, eyebrows furrowing at his confession. “you miss me? are you fucking serious right now, charles?”

“yeah?” he raises an eyebrow, genuinely not knowing how to respond to you.

"charles, we broke up." there's a sadness in your eye that made his chest ache. he knows very well that you did, in fact, break up.

"why are you saying that like it was a one-sided thing? you also agreed it's better off we just part ways." charles' growing frustration is very evident on his face, and it's still clear to you. "i didn't break up with you."

you still know when he's slowly getting irritated, or which expressions told you what's on his mind.

"because i saw you!" you throw your head back, running your hands through your hair as you tug on them roughly. "i watched you distance yourself from me, charles! the way you withdrew in the last couple of days we spent together, and apart. you called lesser, you stopped inviting me to your parties with friends, and you couldn't even look me in the eye anymore."

charles had no idea that this was what went through your mind. to him, he stopped inviting you to parties because he valued the fact that you hated waking up in the morning with a hangover. you had mentioned that it made getting up so much harder.

he started calling you lesser when you were apart because he was just simply busy. but, he did send you messages that he thought were enough to reassure you of the state of your fresh relationship.

not being able to look you in the eye had a simple explanation - he's fallen in love with you and has been afraid to admit it. after you spent a week apart busy with different projects and workload, he had picked you up from the airport for a race weekend and he felt it in his chest. he was just afraid to say it out loud for the fear that you would be too overwhelmed.

"that's not true." charles shakes his head. he turns his body away from you, looking ahead.

"then what's the truth?" you probe, lifting your shoulders to edge him for an answer. there is no way that you spent your days sulking over a man who missed you but never reached out.

but who are you to speak? you didn't either.

charles opens his mouth but quickly closes it. he shakes his head again. he contemplates the risk of saying it to you. you'd called him drunk, not expecting him to even pick up; it should be his turn to risk his feelings and possible embarrassment.

"i got scared," he says slowly, turning his head to look at you, "because i realised i love you. but i was just so scared to tell you. don't ask me why. i wanted to have you without the alcohol, that's why i didn't ask you out anymore."

"you can't just lie your way out of this, charles!" you scold with the roll of your eyes.

he rolls his eyes, finally starting up the car for a drive. "i'm going to drive you home now."

"yeah, maybe you should." you fold your arms over your chest and turn your head towards the window. your hotel isn't far, but it's quite a drive.

charles didn't even have the time to turn some music on, so you had sat in his car together in silence. the sound of the engine is the only thing that occupies the deafening stillness in the air.

you'd spent days locking yourself away, the thoughts of charles hopping on to someone else eating hours of your day away, taking up most of your breath as you'd sit on the floor crying with your cat in your arms.

to the point your mother had to remind you that charles is just a boy.

"do you mean it?" you break the silence as he turns into the lobby of the hotel. your eyes are glued to the window still with tears filling it to the brim.

you hear him sigh then shift in his seat. "of course, i do. i spent every waking moment of the past 6 weeks thinking of you and missing you. i hated every second i spent without you," he rambles. he takes a deep breath as the car comes to a slow stop. "i should have called you. i'm sorry."

you press your lips together. you turn to face him, but his stare is right ahead as he chews on the inside of his cheek. "i didn't think you liked me without the alcohol. i'm not as fun without it."

charles turns quickly to face you, instinctively grabbing your hands into his. "don't even say that," he pouts his lips out, "you are an even better person without it. please don't say that."

you close your eyes, knowing you might regret the decision in the morning. you open them and meet his blue eyes, a small smile stretching your lips.

what's the worst that could happen? if he meant his words, everything should be alright.

"do you want to have some coffee upstairs?"

you see relief wash over his face. with a deep breath, he exhales, his body melts into his car seat. he leans his head on his headrest. "as long as you promise me there's no alcohol."

#ooooh i quite liked this #the ending is meh tho! #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke f1 #charles leclerc x you

[johnkahner]

Curious question, can you write a scenario where the reader goes on a mission to find Smoke and finds the Dark Smoke who wants to claim the reader as his own?

AN: I think this one is my longest story yet. My second time writing for Smoke, and it was fun. I hope you all enjoy it. Not proof read.

Notes: Gender-Neutral Reader and Dark!Smoke

Kuai Liang had requested you to join him for some tea. His facial expression was making you feel uneasy. You accepted the offer wondering what was bothering him. You knew Smoke went off on a mission to find some new recruits for the Shirai Ryu. 

Both being seated at a table with some oolong tea and a variety of berries in a small bowl as the refreshments. A few minutes of silence goes by, and Kuai Liang looks a bit uncomfortable. You began to nibble at a strawberry not sure what to say to the fiery man.  

He calmly says your name, “There’s been no word from my brother. I’m not sure what happened to him nor where he is exactly.” Your eyes go wide, but he continues to speak. “I cannot afford to leave right now. We never know when an attack from the Lin Kuei may occur.” He places his tea cup on the table. “Is there anything I can do to help find Tomas?” You ask in a voice full of worry. 

He nods, “Yes, I was about to ask if you could go on a mission to find him. I’ll send a small group of people with you to aid in your search.” 

“I’ll do whatever I can to help you Kuai Liang.” 

“Thank you. He’s the only family I have left. Well, besides you of course.”

“I could say the same about you two as well.” 

The two of you share a smile. He stands up, and offers you a hand to help you stand as well. “I’ll get everything prepared and set off as soon as I can tomorrow.” 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The small search party split up at one of the last known locations of Smoke. You walk towards a dark cave. It was currently dark out, and you thought this would be an alright spot to set up camp for the night. 

After getting the area set up you sit next to the fire. Eyes closed. You begin to feel the presence of another living being in this cave. You thought it may be a bear or something, and right now you don’t really feel like investigating. 

Footsteps approach you from behind. You feel tense. Slowly turning around your eyes widen to see the ninja you were looking for. You quickly stand up, and rush over to him. “Tomas,” You pull him into a quick hug, “We were worried about you!” His arms pull you closer to his chest. 

Something feels wrong. You realize that there’s the smell of blood on him. He seems to notice this. “Don’t worry. It’s not mine.” He says with a dark chuckle. You froze. He was acting differently from what you were used to. 

He pulls away to look at you. His eyes are dark. You back away from him slowly. He steps closer to you with each step. You run away from him. In the direction from where he came. You were running as fast as you could. Panting. Exhausted. This wasn’t the Smoke you knew. This has to be someone else. 

The smell of blood gets stronger. And stronger. You don’t know what’s happening. All you could think about is getting away from this monster, and telling Kuai Liang what’s happened. As you continue to run, you trip over something. You fall to the ground with your eyes closed. 

When you open them you are greeted by the face of a corpse. It’s not just any corpse either. It’s one of the people that joined you to help find Tomas. You place your hand over your mouth to hide any scream or shriek that would escape from your lips. 

He walks up to you. “Darling. Why are you running from me?” He bends down to pick you up, and get you away from the corpse. “I’m only doing this for you. I love you. I love you so much” He practically growls at you. 

“You belong to me and only me. I will get rid of anyone that gets in my way, or tries to take you away from me.”

You’re scared. You miss the old Tomas you grew up with, and right now you are only thinking about Kuai Liang. He’s going to worry about you both now. Not only is his brother nowhere to be found, but so is a close friend.

#mortal kombat #mk smoke #tomas vrbada #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x you #mortal kombat imagine #smoke x reader #tomas vrbada x reader

[middle-earth-mythopoeia]

No, Amazon’s Rings of Power is not “woke”

It annoys me so much when people complain about Rings of Power being “woke.” First of all, because of the way they overuse the word, woke has become a next-to-meaningless term that can be applied to anything conservatives don’t like. Second, Rings of Power is only progressive in the most surface-level way; underneath that it is in fact extremely regressive. People who whine about Rings of Power being woke are not only annoying, they’re also just plain wrong.

Ever since the casting was announced, right-wing idiots have been shrieking about Black actors being cast in Rings of Power. These trolls have made all kinds of dumb statements about how Middle-earth = Europe, but they seem willfully ignorant of the fact that Europe has never been exclusively white, and there is no reason to exclude people of color from the cast of any Tolkien adaptation. Still, this didn’t make the show progressive in its casting (which was tokenistic) or its writing (which ranges from bad to horrible).

For instance, the only storyline Amazon writers could apparently think of to introduce Arondir was literally him being enslaved. I mean, really? Is that really the best plotline to go with? To be clear, I’m not criticizing the actor, I’m criticizing the writing. In addition, Amazon cast actors of color overwhelmingly in parts invented for the show—rather than as actual Tolkien characters—which more easily allows them to be sidelined by the narrative, and the casting overall was in no way diverse enough. So I find it bizarre that people criticize the show for its so-called wokeness, when very little effort was made from a diversity and inclusion standpoint.

Right-wing nutjobs also threw a fit about Amazon portraying Galadriel as a warrior, to the point where they started calling her “Guyladriel.” They whined about Galadriel being too feminist and too masculine in the show, but that’s the opposite of what happened and betrays a fundamental misunderstanding of Galadriel as a character. First of all, she fought at Alqualondë in one version of the story, so no one should have a problem with her wielding a sword. What IS a problem is everything else about her portrayal.

Amazon’s writers took one of Tolkien’s most interesting characters and stripped her of her power, her authority, her gravitas, her wisdom, and her ambition. They had Gil-galad, her younger cousin, order her around. They had Elendil compare her to his children, even though she’s older than the sun and moon. And they made her a petty, naïve, incompetent brat whose entire first season involves being manipulated by Sauron, and as if that wasn’t bad enough, having a bizarre will-they-won’t-they relationship with him. In addition, Galadriel is canonically tall and strong, and one of her names means “man-maiden,” but they made her short and waif-like instead.

Galadriel in Amazon’s show doesn’t even resemble the character Tolkien wrote—the character named Nerwen, who never trusted Annatar, who certainly never had some creepy Reylo thing with him, who was powerful and wise and authoritative, who had a marvelous gift of insight into the minds of others—not a quippy, rude, annoying idiot who is constantly being controlled by the men around her. I don’t know why anyone would look at Rings of Power and think this portrayal is progressive. It’s actually a failure of imagination: Amazon’s writers literally cannot conceive of a powerful woman even when all of the work of imagining her has been done for them.

In addition to the faux-feminist-and-actually-sexist portrayal of Galadriel, Rings of Power is also on the whole weirdly regressive from the standpoint of gender roles and gender expression. Tolkien’s Elves are canonically tall, beautiful, and long-haired, regardless of gender. Tolkien’s Dwarves all have beards. So what did Amazon do? They gave most of their male Elves short hair, while the female Elves still have long hair, and they did away with female Dwarves’ beards. They patted themselves on the back for “letting” Galadriel fight, but don’t show other female warriors—in battle scenes, for instance, why are all the soldiers male? In general, they made their characters adhere to conservative gender roles and gender expression, which is especially glaring because it contradicts what Tolkien actually wrote.

On top of all this, they decided to throw in some anti-Irish stereotypes with a side of classism, just for fun. They had the ragged, dirty, primitive Harfoots speaking in Irish accents, while the regal, ethereal, advanced Elves speak with English accents. None of the actors playing the Harfoots are Irish themselves, to my knowledge, which makes the choice to have them speak this way especially questionable. Seriously, who thought this was a good idea?

All in all, it makes absolutely no fucking sense to criticize Rings of Power for being woke. It may look progressive on the surface because there’s a Black Elf and a woman with a sword, but that’s as far as it goes. The show isn’t particularly diverse to begin with, and it treats its characters of color poorly. Galadriel’s portrayal is disgustingly regressive, as is the show’s overarching take on gender. This is to say nothing of the caliber of the writing in general, which is unsurprisingly low. There is so much to criticize—like the nonsense about mithril, or the fact that Celebrimbor of all people doesn’t understand alloys, or the fact that you can apparently swim across the Sundering Seas now—which makes complaining about the show’s supposed wokeness especially irrational.

I also have to wonder if the people still whining about wokeness know anything about Tolkien’s works. Do they know that the crown of Gondor was based on the crown of the Pharaohs of Egypt? Do they know that Tolkien considered Byzantium the basis for Minas Tirith? Do they know that female warriors already exist in Tolkien’s books? Do they know when they rant about how much they hate “Guyladriel” that Amazon’s portrayal is actually too feminine? Ultimately, people who complain about wokeness in Rings of Power—or any Tolkien adaptation—are just betraying their own idiocy. I honestly think if Tolkien’s books were published now conservatives would scream that they’re woke too.

#anti rings of power #my writing #to be clear I have not watched this monstrosity and never will #I have unfortunately learned all these things about its horrible plot regardless #please no one comment on this post telling me that I have to watch it in order to make criticisms - just no

[cult-of-the-placeholder]

I like to imagine that Shamura always knew.

They have the gift of prophecy, after all: on the day of Narinder's birth, when Shamura first takes the infant god into their arms, they know. Their clairvoyance shows a distant future, an angry, hateful Narinder, wielding a great, cursed scythe with terrifying mastery, bellowing at Shamura to take up arms and fight him.

The vision splits, two possibilities at once: they can either do as demanded and fight their little brother--who's no more than a soft, mewling infant in the present, delicately holding onto their finger and cooing at them in wonder--and their overwhelming power of the eldest all at once will quell him. They can strike him down there with a single, decisive blow, and Narinder will collapse to the ground, crown shattering and lifeless body splayed out grotesquely. Shamura's siblings will shun them for killing Narinder, and the grief will slowly drive them insane.

Or... they can refuse to fight. If they refuse to raise their hand to their brother, Narinder will best them easily. Becoming increasingly more angry as he slashes and strikes them, shrieking at their older sibling to, "Fight me, damn you! Fight me!"

Shamura sees their own skull cleaved, sees the other bishops rush to defend them. They see Heket's throat torn out, Leshy's eyes gouged, Kallamar's ears ripped from his head. He sees them all, bloody and beaten, retreating. He sees them bandaging one another's wounds, sees them forging unholy shackles and chains that could hold their brother. His death is something they want to avoid, even after he injures them so.

Shamura knows better than anyone that a prophecy cannot be outrun or outsmarted, but they still try. What else can they do? The vision leaves them suddenly and the newborn god in their arms is whining with discomfort--tears have begun to drip off their cheeks and have speckled the poor child's face. They gently wipe them away, heart pounding with nerves, and nestle the baby close against their chest.

They try so hard. They run themselves ragged over the next several hundred thousand years, taking every preventative measure they can. They search endlessly for more visions, for some kind of hint, something they can do to change it. They vow to love Narinder completely, infinitely, and their other brothers and little sister as well. Perhaps if they loves him enough, treasures and cherishes them and gives them each the entirety of their heart, this horrible future can be evaded. Delayed. Denied.

Surely something must cause Narinder to raise his blades against them. They nip every problem in the bud, they raise the four other gods with grace and love, hands warm and kind when they need to be, just as they are firm and stern when it is necessary. The other 4 bishops grow in great power, and they love each child endlessly. Especially Narinder. The little god of death is the only one that shares their passion for the written word, and so often retreats into Shamura's vast libraries to study poetry and prose alike. Sometimes they read together, first with Narinder seated directly in their lap, then sitting together shoulder-to-shoulder when he's grown too big for that. Shamura is sure to express their affections each and every time, so that Narinder can never forget how loved he is.

Millenium pass by the hundreds, and the horrible prophecy hasn't yet come to pass, and Shamura tries valiantly to forget it. The world grows and matures and worships them, and their siblings have become fine rulers indeed. The lands prosper, endless devotion for them to dine on and grow ever stronger.

Then... Narinder asks Shamura about the prospect of change. Changing death's rules, carving out a new and uncertain future, letting the mortals walk again after having left the waking realm, and not in the means of rebirth, no: rather, instead, he spoke of granting their souls a second chance in a revived body.

It's blasphemous. It's heinous. It's unnatural.

Shamura cannot allow him to violate the laws of nature. They forbid he do such things, and that night they're plagued with the nightmarish vision again, but this time only one ending plays out: their skull is split because they refuse to fight him. It's happening so fast all around them, and they go to Narinder in the middle of the night. Hugs him desperately, grasping his shoulders with all four hands, begging him to remember that he is loved and that something like this shouldn't come between them. Begs him to reconsider, but refrains from telling him about the prophecy. Telling someone of a percieved inevitability often acted to push them directly towards it. Fate was ironic like that.

They beg Narinder not to, beg him to just stay as he is, and their little brother is so confused. And when Shamura refuses to tell him what is going on, he becomes suspicious. Bids they go away, and disappears into a dark portal to a place where Shamura can't track him.

It devolves from there. Shamura knows what's coming and is powerless to stop it--they stop sleeping, they stop eating, they withdraw entirely and throw themselves desperately into their forbidden library, searching for something, anything they can do to change their fate. A loss like this will be felt for thousands of years to come, and their heart can't bear it. Shamura spends days, weeks, months, years in a restless trance, mind stretched thin as their desperation drives them to search for a solution that does not exist. A long time for mortals to be sure, but for a god it could be the blink of an eye. While they have been deep in the recesses of ethereal knowledge, Narinder has grown considerably more bored, more angry, more isolated.

When Narinder comes to them, scythe in hand, Shamura is exhausted. It has been so long since they drank from their followers' devotion. Narinder comes to challenge them, a fight for death, he says--death will evolve, and if Shamura wants to stop it they will have to kill him. Or at the very least beat him into submission.

And Shamura can't. Their worst nightmare is playing out in real time right before their eyes, and they do nothing when Narinder's pitch black blade comes down on them. They're crying, silently, tears of grief flowing down their face because they know what's coming. If they raise their arms and fight their brother, Narinder will die.

They can't. They won't. Not to their baby brother.

#god im so normal about the bishops #Shamura #Narinder #the bishops of the old faith #cult of the lamb #cotl

[licorice-tea]

Young And Dumb.

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader

Content: Strawhat reader, gender neutral reader, reader is flirty and bold, cursing, allusions to sex and a threesome, no actual sexual content!!!, pining, kissing 🤭, misunderstandings/ miscommunication, a little bit of arguing, hurt/comfort <3

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: kind of been in a writing slump these past few days, so i just wanted to write and post something, you know? it’s weird bc i have a ton of wips in my drafts, but none of them really felt finished, so i did this whole thing in maybe 2 hours? hopefully it’s enough to pull me out of my little funk so i can get back to posting more regularly! anyway, enjoy!

Law respects you. He respects your choices, your independence from him, even your crew that he doesn’t always like personally. But one thing he absolutely cannot stand is when you do things like this.

The first thing he hears upon walking up to the deck is giggling. Bothersome, but not too loud or unusual that it throws off his routine. Besides; he’s sure his crew must be glad to be above the waves for once, and happy to have the company of the Straw Hats as well. The two crews had wound up with their ships anchored next to each other in the middle of the sea, and agreed to stay there before their courses diverged once again.

He sees you talking to Penguin and Shachi- the source of said laughter. But, Law does a double take when you let out a shriek of laughter. Then he realizes just how closely the two of them are standing to you. You’re not even on the same crew as them, but you look real cozy with Penguin’s hand around your waist and Shachi’s on your shoulder. Of course, he knows your friendliness can border on flirtation (and desperately wants to be on the receiving end of that flirting right now instead of his crew members) but that logic does nothing to calm him.

Law’s perpetual frown turns into a full on scowl as he marches over to the trio you’ve formed. “Penguin! Shachi! Have you…” he loses his train of thought when you give him a quizzical expression, and realizes there is nothing that they haven’t already done. “Your chores. Below deck.”

“Sure have, captain!”

“Yes, captain!”

All three of you look at him expectantly, unsure of why he’s still standing before you. “Are you ok, Law?”

“Ok?” No he wasn’t fucking ok. How could he be when two of his closest friends were throwing themselves at you, and you were letting them? They didn’t even know how he felt for you- no one does- but still. This was just too much for him.

“I need to speak to you, y/n-ya.”

With regard for his serious tone and expression, you wriggle out from between your two friends and follow Law all the way to his office. When you get there and he finally shuts the door, you don’t sit.

Instead you approach him, “Is something wrong? You seemed really upset.”

He looks down at you with a frown. You can tell he’s contemplating his next words before answering, “…Everything is fine.”

“Oh? Ok, so… why are we here then?”

Law breathes deeply, and exhales in a huff. “I need to tell you something.”

“Is it… serious? You’re being kind of weird, Law.”

“I am not.”

“Hm, well, no; you are. But what’s up?”

“I-“ he stops himself and sighs again before continuing. “So dramatic,” you think to yourself. “You shouldn’t get so close to Penguin and Shachi.”

You blink a few times, shocked. He could either be confessing his overwhelming love for you (which you highly doubted, Law had never seemed to reciprocate your affections for him) or giving you some spiel about inappropriate relationships. “Excuse me?”

“They do this kind of thing all the time, y/n-ya; messing around with random women and men, and-“

“And what, Law? I’m an adult, for fucks sake, I don’t need anyone telling me what to do.”

“You don’t understand, they- they want something from you.”

“I know damn well you’re not lecturing me on my sex life right now, Trafalgar Law.”

His face gets hot just from the thought of it. “I am not! But you can’t-“

“Yes, Law, I can. I’m not going to, wasn’t even planning on it; all I did was flirt with them. But believe me when I say I can.”

He’s silent, with an expression akin to that of a bewildered fish. Then it morphs into more of a frown. “I-“

“Don’t even continue with that thought, because you’ve already managed to piss me off beyond belief. Just- just get out of my way.” You step around him and fling open the door to his office before storming off.

That evening, the two crews gather on the deck of the Thousand Sunny for a feast. You find an empty seat, and soon enough Penguin and Shachi place themselves on either side of you.

“Heyyyy y/n.” The first greets you with a sort of awkward, nervous cadence.

“Hey guys, sorry I left without saying bye earlier.”

“Oh it’s fine, you’re good…”

“We’re sorry too.”

This makes you quirk an eyebrow in confusion and look side to side at either of them. “Why would you be sorry?”

They shoot a quick glance at each other, but it’s very obvious because they have to look across you to do so.

“Did you know that, well… Law sort of…”

“He has feeling for you. Big time.”

You almost spit out your drink. “What? Oh, ok, real funny guys-“

“No, no we’re serious!”

“Yeah! You should hear the way he talks about you-“

“All good things, of course, it’d be hard not to- But anyway he was never going to tell you because he doesn’t think you’re interested, blah blah blah-“

“Which is why we decided to try and make him jealous!”

“…I’m so confused right now. No, not even confused just… surprised?”

“Don’t blame yourself, Captain’s hard to read sometimes.”

“Good thing we figured it out for you, right?” Shachi elbows your side, clearly pleased with himself.

“Uh huh...”

Penguin continues “Anyway, we thought it worked when he said he needed to talk to you earlier, but when you came back you seemed sort of upset.”

“Yeah, well he was kind of acting like a dick.”

He sighs, “Law means well, I swear. He’s just… he’s not the best with matters of the heart.”

“That’s ironic.”

Shachi leans over you to address his friend. “Not the best? C’mon man, he has zero experience.”

“Shh! We want y/n to feel for him, not pity him.”

You laugh, “Right, so… what should I do?”

“Do you like him back?” Such a childish way of saying it.. but you do. And you had, for a while, but you’d never acted on your feelings because he’d never seem to like you as anything other than a friend. Until earlier today, when his jealously led him to say some kind of rude things to you. It was no excuse, but it explained why he’d acted the way he did.

You smile softly and look down. “I do.”

“Then go talk to him!”

“Yeah, go talk to him y/n!”

The two men excitedly get you up out of your seat and (gently) push you toward where Law is leaning on the railing of the deck. You laugh and go along with it- if what they were saying is true, what could be the harm in being honest about your own feelings with him?

You walk briskly toward Law, but with purpose, And when you stop in front of him, he looks up from his cup like a deer in headlights.

He quietly greets you with a nod. “…Y/n-ya.”

“Law. Can we talk?”

He nods and follows you to the starboard side of the deck, far enough from where the dinner and light music is. You come to a stop and turn to face him.

“You know, I’ve been talking to Penguin and Shachi…”

Law deadpans, still annoyed about how they were all over you earlier. “Mhm.”

“And they told me something about you. I didn’t really believe it, at first, because you never… Well you never acted like you do, but-“

“Like I what?”

“Like you… have feelings for me?”

“Shit.” He was going to kill them after this. Or at the very least, make sure they had the worst of the chores on the Polar Tang for the foreseeable future. “They… They told you that?”

“Yes, but-“ Law turns and tries to walk off with his fists clenched, before you stop and grab one of his wrists. “I feel the same way, Law. If it’s true, of course.“

“It is.”

You smile. “If you were jealous earlier, you could’ve just said so. Then I wouldn’t have gotten angry with you.”

“You’re not interested in them?”

“No, we’re just friends… But I didn’t think you were interested in me, either, so I didn’t see the harm in flirting.”

Law shrugs, looking down at his shoes. You’ve never seen him so shy. “Well, I didn’t think you felt the same way, so I never, uh, confessed.”

“Well,” you take a step closer, and risk your chances by gently lifting his chin with one hand. “I do.”

Law’s eyes roam over your face, mouth gaping as he searches for his next words. He wants to say something suave and impressive, to take back control of the situation when you so clearly have him wrapped around your finger. However, he comes up with nothing, and decides to try something new instead. Maybe your boldness has simply inspired him to suddenly come up with this master plan, or maybe he just can’t think of anything else with you standing so close; but he kisses you.

It’s slow and hesitant for the first few seconds- you think he’s probably new to this by the way he lips press into yours forcefully and without much intention. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer, guiding him to sink his lips into yours rather than have them press flat against each other. He follows suit, then pulls away for a quick breath before going right back for you. He sighs into the kiss this time, and your lips part ever so slightly. He takes this as opportunity try and go a little further- his tongue passes in the slit between your lips and you open them further to let him. What had started off as a small kiss quickly becomes a less than innocent make out session. Law is bold with it, too; nipping at your lips and causing you to gasp so that he can take you by surprise and kiss you that much more deeply (on more than one occasion.) You can both practically feel the tension built up over months of pining after each other dissipating.

At long last you pull away, for fear your mouth will go numb if you let him bite your lips one more time.

And Law asks, slightly panting; “How was that?”

You laugh, genuinely surprised that he’s concerned about his performance in what might’ve been was the best kiss of your life. “Perfect, Law. Just perfect.”

#one piece x reader #fanfic #one piece x you #one piece #x reader #law x reader #law fluff #law x you #law x y/n #misunderstanding #miscommunication #trafalgar law #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar d law x reader

[just-some-random-blogger]

Would you write part 2 of In Your Defense

How Daemon protects reader from her father or how he acts when she is pregnant?

If not the whole fic it could be a blurb

Tea Time

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Your father is doing bad shit and Daemon is going bat shit.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: Fem!reader, wife!reader, pregnant!reader, mentions of violence, reader has an abusive father, manic!Daemon, Daemon "dngaf" Targaryen, fluff if you squint, typos, etc.

A/N: Fine. This is technically a p2 to In your defense, although you dont need to read it to get anything thats happening <3 people who want 2nd parts- II Me who turned down other 2nd part reqs- IIII II(?) idk im not actually keeping score HAHAHAH

"Daemon?" I call, craning my neck to the arch that connected to the main room to the entrance of our home. I hear shuffling and hushed voices, yet no response.

I knit my brows, heading to the door, where ultimately I catch the said silver haired man right before he turns away from me.

My eyes turn from his back to my servant who was hiding whatever it was she was holding behind her, "leave us," I nod at her.

She bows and I chuckle when she makes sure not to expose her back to me, lest I see what she was holding.

"Husband?" I call out accusingly.

Daemon barely turns his face as he replies, "wife."

I roll my eyes, "will you not look at me?"

He releases a sigh before finally looking over. Daemon gives me a soft smirk as he takes one step closer. He obviously cannot be trusted to tell the truth, judging by the expression he holds.

"How was your hunt?" I inquire flatly, observing every inch of his body with my eyes.

"Refreshing," he replies.

I grab his arm as I glare at him, beginning to inspect the inside of his murder cloak. Daemon chuckles, raising his hands complacently to allow me easier access to his body, "might suggest you inspect under my breeches. I'm certain there's a dangerous weapon you-"

"Where did you really go, Daemon?" I cut him off.

Daemon takes in my knit brows and pouts, half-wounded and half-amused "you make me out to be a liar?"

My breath betrays me when I sigh at his gentle touch to my belly barely rounded belly. Daemon hears no threat in my words after beholding my reaction.

"I swear to the gods old and new, if you touched my father-"

He rolls his eyes, groaning, "why would I want to be anywhere near that cunt?"

"Daemon," I quip, "my younger brother is barely ten and never even met our mother. You cannot leave him without -"

"So? He is nearly of age-"

"DAEMON!" I shriek, making him freeze. I heave as he turns, bringing his hand with him, "I will not have you be a kinslayer."

"He is not my kin."

"He is the father of your wife!"

He rolls his eyes, "he is no more my father-in-law than he is your father," he leans in, nose faintly brushing against mine, "lest you forget he came to our home, uninvited, then touched you in front of me."

"He handed me a pouch of tea-"

"And you trembled under his gaze nevertheless!" he barks, pulling away from me, aimlessly walking around. Daemon points to me, "he thinks he has a claim in the child his daughter is carrying."

I raise my voice, "I will not let him come close to-"

"THEN LET ME FUCKING KILL HIM!" Daemon growls, snapping his head at me, eyes dark and delirious.

His hot gaze upon me would have torn me to shreds had I not known the desperation behind his voice.

He sighs, releasing the tension in his shoulders, then rolls his neck. "He should not have a chance to even think about touching what is mine again," Daemon adds casually.

I press my lips into a tight line. I release a breath and raise my hand towards him.

He gives me a defiant look, as if telling me he will only touch me if I agree to his murderous intent.

"Fine," I pull my hand away, "kill the fucker. My mercy towards him extends only because of my younger brother."

Daemon lifts his head.

"But when my uncles find out about his death, and when then force my brother to march here to avenge the very monster you killed, then you will have no choice but to kill the defenseless boy, won't you?"

He shakes his head, "no one will know-"

"No one has to know to accuse you, Daemon," I blurt, stepping towards him, "and once you kill my brother, I will not see you as the man who avenged me from the cruelty of my father."

He watches as I continue walking towards him, "you will be kinslayer."

I shudder under his gaze. I do not realize that there are tears falling from my eyes up until he brushes my cheek with his thumb.

Daemon screws his eyes shut as he takes my face in both his hands, "I can make it look like an accident."

"You rage would not allow you the sort, husband."

He releases a prolonged an painful sigh. I pull away from his hot breath and grab his wrists, giving him a pointed look.

"What if I break his bones?"

I lean into his touch, urging him to look at me. Once he obliges, I shake my head, "and how would you make that into an accident?"

"Caraxes can step on him."

I roll my eyes, "hmm, and then will you pretend the dragon was hungry and you could not control him?"

Daemon presses his lips together.

I raise my brows at his reaction, "you would allow people think your dragon is not subservient to you?"

"I could not give less of a fuck what people think about me," he retorts, hands rubbing my neck.

"Alright. Do it," I mutter, "just make sure my brother does not see and that you bring him home to me."

Daemon stills. He pulls away, confusion written all over his face.

I give him an incredulous look, "it would be your dragon's fault would it not? Not even my uncles would raise their annoyance to Caraxes."

Daemon's lips part. He releases a chuckle as he raises a hand, "you are granting me... permission?"

I sigh and roll my eyes yet again, "going once, going twice-"

"I killed two of his guards," Daemon suddenly blurts.

I knit my brows at him as he presses a kiss on my forehead, "do not ask the servant girl what I gave to her," he leaves one final kiss on my lips before pulling away. I watch him as he walks towards the door and gives a final nod, "I will return with your brother before supper, my love."

The moment he walks out the door, my eyes finally catch the trail of dripped blood that lead across the hall. I bring my mouth to my lips to hold back a gag.

#daemon x reader #daemon fanfic #daemon targaryen fanfic #husband!daemon #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targeryan #daemon x wife!reader #dark!daemon ? #lol tbh daemon is just daemon #daemon fluff #ig #daemon targaryen fluff #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd fanfic

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Hello! I love all of your Aemond fics. They are 😩👌 I have a request that’s been on my mind. If you’re uncomfortable with the subject, I understand. Could I please request Aemond x wife!reader where Aemond has a breeding kink? Thank you!

Thank you so much! I hope this tickles your pickle.

Warnings: Smut. Word count: ~1300

It has been a week since Helaena gave birth to Maelor and she is finally feeling rested enough to entertain visitors that aren��t either Aegon or Alicent.

Aemond’s wife has been giddy with excitement since the news of the birth, eager to meet her precious little nephew.

She rocks baby Maelor in her arms, cooing softly to him as he gurgles and clenches his tiny fists. Helaena reclines on the couch in the solar, watching on with a smile.

Jaehaera and Jaehaerys run shrieking around the room, hands sticky from lemon cakes and voices shrill with the high of an afternoon of sweet treats.

She laughs as they cling to her skirts, not minding the residue their mucky fingers leave behind.

Aemond stands stoic as ever near the doorway, his expression unreadable. She wishes more than anything that he would interact with the children; play with the twins, even offer to hold the babe for the briefest of moments. However, ever since they began their short visit he has stood like a statue, his gaze not shifting from her the entire time.

Perhaps he doesn't like children? The thought makes her sad. They have only been wed for three months, yet she is desperate to be with child. It's not like they haven't been trying, but she is beginning to wonder if perhaps her husband is going through the motions purely out of a sense of duty and has no real interest in being a father.

"You must be excited to have children of your own soon." Helaena says, oblivious to the tenseness she feels towards her husband.

She gives a tight lipped smile, keeping her gaze fixed firmly on the infant she's cradling. "Yes, if the Seven see fit to bless us, I would love to have children."

The sound of a throat being cleared draws her attention back to Aemond. He stares at her with an intensity that makes her feel peculiar; a combination of guilt, embarrassment and something that swirls hot in her lower belly that she cannot quite define.

Has she said something out of turn? Is he angry with her? Perhaps he is squeamish at the thought of his sister being privy to the details of their marriage. How foolish of her.

“Dearest wife, I think it is time we took our leave.” Aemond says, his voice cool and even.

“But we have barely spent an hour with your sister and the children, can’t we-”

“I said I think it’s time we took our leave.” Aemond repeats, interrupting her. His tone does not change, though there is clear enough indication that there is no room for argument.

She sighs, handing Maelor back to Helaena with an apologetic smile.

Aemond steps aside from the doorway, gesturing for her to exit first before following her out.

They are not ten paces from the solar when she gasps as she is turned and pressed against the wall. She can feel the evidence of Aemond’s arousal pressed against her thigh.

“What are y-mmph!”

Her question is cut off by Aemond pressing his lips firmly against hers, engaging her in a kiss that is far beyond the realm of public decency. She is breathless and wide-eyed when he eventually pulls back. The blue iris of his right eye is almost eclipsed by the dilation of his pupil. She finally sees the way he has been looking at her for the last hour for what it actually is; lust.

“You will make a wonderful mother.” He whispers, his breath hot against the shell of her ear.

She blushes at his words, her skin growing warm, she stares up at him doe-eyed. “What’s gotten into you?”

He raises a hand, fingertips ghosting a trail along her jawline and down the column of her throat. “Seeing you with Maelor today...I want so badly to give you a child of our own, fuck you full of my seed and watch it take root. You’d look so pretty all round and soft, a walking display of what I’ve done to you, what I’ve put inside of you.”

She swallows thickly at the crassness of his words, but there is no denying the arousal that pools between her legs as a result of them. Her only response is a whimper as he continues to loom over her.

Aemond pulls away, taking her by the hand and leading her wordlessly towards their marital chambers.

No sooner is the door closed and bolted than Aemond is upon her, fingers tangled in the hair at the back of her head, kissing her so hard she fears her lips will bruise. He walks her back towards the bed, guiding her down upon it, before hastily bunching her skirts around her hips and plucking at her smallclothes.

Her chest heaves with excitement as she watches him, she has never seen her husband so animated. “Should we not undress fully?”

“I’m not waiting a moment longer to have you.” He responds huskily, working open his trousers.

He runs his digits through the wetness of her folds, before spreading the resulting slick over the length of his erect cock. They groan in unison at the stretch of his intrusion as he pushes inside.

“Gods...your cunt...surely it was crafted by The Mother herself.” He grits out, stilling and allowing her to adjust to the size of him.

She begins to grind her hips against his, desperate for him to move now she is relaxed enough to accommodate him comfortably inside of her.

He takes her completely by surprise when he grabs her by the bend of her knees, pushing them up and back towards her shoulders. For a moment she worries her husband has grossly misjudged her flexibility until he begins to thrust. She has never felt him this far within her before and it sends shockwaves coursing through her abdomen with every piston of his hips.

“I overheard a maester saying that this is the best way to ensure the seed quickens.” Aemond tells her. “Do you feel how deep I am?”

She nods, squealing as he presses his chest flush with the underside of her thighs, driving his hips forward over and over again. The sensation is too much. She clings desperately to his shoulders to ground herself.

“You aren’t allowed to peak.” He growls, gripping her jaw and forcing her to look at him. “Do you hear me? The ceaseless clenching forces what I spend inside of you back out, and I won’t have it go to waste.”

The head of him is battering a spot deep within her that causes her eyes to roll back and her toes to curl, yet she staves off the apex of her pleasure, stammering out a “Y-yes, Aemond.”

“Good girl.” He purrs, his strokes becoming sloppy as he nears his end. “This isn’t about your pleasure, it’s about me fucking you as many times as it takes for you to give me an heir, and you’ll lay there and take it, like an obedient little wife.”

He stills, pulsating inside of her as he fills her up with a low groan.

She is trembling, light headed and legs aching from the position Aemond has kept her in. 

He runs a hand over her lower belly, before pulling out and standing to shed the clothing he has left on. He pauses with a scowl when he notices her try to move.

“You are to stay exactly as you are until I’m ready to take you once more.” He scolds. “I will keep you full of me today, consider any prior engagements of yours cancelled.”

#aemond targaryen #prince aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond stannies #aemond one eye #pro aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fan fiction #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fan fic #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd smut #hotd fanfic #hotd fan fic #hotd fan fiction #hotd fanfiction

[rel124c41]

SCHISM. jade leech

You could not grab a full-bodied mushroom, that had already lived a life outdoors, and stick it into a terrarium. "I know the pieces fit because I watch them tumble down" - TOOL, Track 5 on Lateralus

tags: established relationship, relationship issues, soul bond, ghost camera, angst w a happy? ending, character study, parental crewel, mental breakdown(s), crowley finds a way to send the prefect home, grimms fairytales, tattoos

word count: 16,920

“No! NoNONO! Wait, Jade! Cut it out Jade! Jade!” 

The words you let out are overflowing with terror. Fear makes itself familiar and known in your vocal cords.

Out of you comes one last fruitless, ignored shriek of his name before you cry like a child on a rollercoaster. With you in his arms, Jade falls back first off the cliffside.

Catlike, you cling onto your boyfriend. Pointed nails dig deeply into his neck, causing little injuries and indents. The fall is short and, before you know it, you are both underwater, weightless.

It is freezing and awful and warm and great all at the same time. You want to resurface immediately. Which you do, kicking yourself out of the constricting arms around your waist. Lake water ripples and billows. Once you surface, you expect to hear that mocking laughter. Rivulets of water cascade down your neck and face as you bring two soaking wet hands up to your temple to wipe away water – rather fruitless. But you clear the skin over your eyes and open them, searching for what you thought you would find in sound.

“My clothes are drenched, Jade,” you whine, knowing he can hear you no matter if he is underwater. 

The lake remains a calm surface, no body popping up. Kicking your legs and waiting, you glance up at the cliffside Jade had thrown both of you off of. Sun burns the palm you face up to its golden rays, protecting your eyes. There is, sitting all pretty. The mushroom you had been going to collect lies unplucked. Next to it, your pair of sunglasses that had fallen off your nose when you were lifted as easily as a mischievous cat.

Though, you are not the mischievous one in this. That description belongs to another: the one sly predator swimming underwater and avoiding surfacing for mischievous reasons most likely. Who were kidding, you think watching still waters, definitely for those types of reasons.

And you only get one warning – a hand pinched on your nose and a hand cupping your mouth – before you are dragged right back underwater. 

You thrash wildly. A lean body folds and tilts itself over you. You punch at where you think his shoulder or rib-cage is. He spins you once then twice underwater, disorienting you. You clutch at his shirt and pull. He kicks at your right leg and bends your body as if it is a bow. Wrestling against one another, your objective to resurface and his objective to dance clash until finally Jade pulls you up for air.

This time mocking laughter accompanies the cool sting of air. “Ugh, you jerk! You absolute – ugh!! My clothes!” Your punching fist is caught. Jade twists it and wraps it around his neck in an amorous hold like you two were going to start tango-ing. He laughs, subdued chortling at your furious expression. 

“Fufufu, you should’ve seen your face.”

“This is Floyd level behavior! I cannot believe you!”

“Come now, (Name). You were just complaining about the heat.”

You gasp, offended. “The heat?! You did this because –”

“Because I wanted to assist my love however I could? Yes, of course. I do need to take care of you after all.”

“Oh, you ass,” you growl and dig your nails in the back of his neck. 

Jade is unaffected by your humane strength. Instead, Jade smiles at your attempt to inflict any harm on him. His lips pull up and you are struck breathless by the visage of him. Sunlight falls on his glass-clear skin in an evangelical way. Teal hair is pressed down by water, slick with a rare shine. Even with black eyeliner smudged raccoon-esque, his eyes are piercing and vibrant. A lemon and an olive, rich like plucked from a painting. You punch his latissimus for being so effortlessly handsome at times.

With clipped and vexed words, you say, “I’m cool now. Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure.” His white smile is aggravatingly handsome too. “Don’t I get a reward for my consideration,” Jade asks, not missing a beat, simply floating with you in his arms.

“Take me back to the shore?”

“Of course I will.”

“Okay, here’s your reward,” you say, pecking him on the lips. “Now then.” Your gaze sharpens. “Shore. Now.”

When you two finally reach the lake’s sandy border, you start to wring out your button-up. You will not walk around in wet clothes. The dripping fabric of your tank top suctions itself to your skin in an unrelenting, octopus-like grip. You glare when Jade openly stares. Half-lidded eyes trace up and down the curvatures of you. Taking the shoulder ends of your button-up, you whip the material down hard once then twice then thrice, watching as water droplets splash your boyfriend.

Take that, you think triumphantly as you remove another article of clothing.

Jade gets back at you by taking his own wet button-up and wringing it out over your head rather than over the dirt like you had done. Dropping the shoe you were shaking water out of, you attack him and his self-satisfied, coy smirk. 

It takes about five minutes of horseplaying until you two get back on task. 

You sit on shore, squeezing water out of socks and mourning when Jade was more cowardly about touching. All two sets of teeth yet no bite. Endearing courting methods involved gifts, and even then, he was earnestly timid about it. Hand like a shield on his heart all the time as if to translate, be gentle with me. 

Rolling a still damp sock back on your foot, you think that message was truly worth ignoring. Jade Leech and gentle were antonymous. 

Still, there was a certain charm about his slyness. The fake humanitarianism he wore in his finely pressed uniform and neat bow was attractive. The glowing, angular silhouette of those sharp, up-turned eyes could still make you swoon. Something about him being out of reach was magnetizing. 

But … you watch as Jade walks up to you, your mushroom and sunglasses in his hand, there is something equally magnetizing in unlocking this part of him. 

And you have to admit the dip into the lake did wonders dropping down your temperature. Now you were not losing by such a large margin in the battle against heat stroke. 

You let him have this win. And you let him come to you. Accepting your sunglasses, you lay them to perch on the crown of your head. Before he offers a hand out to you, Jade carefully places your mushroom in the bucket you two have been wandering around with. He drapes his wet button-up over the button, electing to stay in his own tank top.

“Not going to dry out your socks?”

“No, I happen to enjoy the feeling of walking around in wet socks. Reminds me of home”

“You’re incorrigible.”

A smile splits across Jade’s face at your harsh words. Stalactites and stalagmites of razor enamel shine in his mouth, menacingly. And yet he offers out a hand to you, nails trimmed down to the plate, safe and warm even if it is calloused a bit.

Your eyes trail over him. Past shoes and compression tights and white cargo shorts. Gliding over the palm of his pallid hand and over the black eel skeleton made of tattoo ink which wraps itself from elbow to shoulder. Up to his collarbone, to his face, and to his eyes. 

A fond thought arrives in the mailbox of your mind. It is a letter perfumed in heart, base, and top notes of aquatic and woody scents. The smell of stepping on the beach and breathing it all in so deeply that your ribs ache. As the letter’s wax seal melts off, you read and transcribe the letter into the passionate smile on your lips and the way you trust yourself with holding Jade’s hand. The letter reads: I think I want to spend the rest of my life with him.

That was only yesterday.

That was only yesterday. Now, that mental letter means nothing to you. 

How quickly our opinions can change, you reflect, standing in Crowley’s office with a pearl of torment clutched in the bowels of a stomach ready to puke. 

When you were summoned to Dire Crowley’s office, you were vexed more than anxious. In your head bounced around the theories on what under-the-table job the Headmaster was kindly electing for you to take care of. Another thirty plus stack of papers he did not want to write his signature on or another school activity that you would be generously put in charge of. You weighed the options of work as Grim (perched on your shoulder) weighed the options of what you would ask for as a reward.

“Tuna croquettes, Henchman, imagine the taste of those! When Crowley gives us our job, ask for those! Ask for tuna –”

“What even is a croquette? When did you learn a French word?” You can already guess the answer to the second question: if it involves food, not even a language barrier can stop Grim from learning about it.

“They’re these breaded balls of tuna that are deep-fried.” You stick your tongue out in disgust. “They look delicious. You can dip them in honey or put them on crackers. Oh, Henchman, you have to ask for them. And we should pick up more honey for home.”

“I’ll remember to pick up honey. I can’t promise any tuna coqu –”

“Croquettes.”

“Croquettes. You know, you need to stop watching food blogs or going on websites like Food & Wine. I found my phone opened up to twelves tabs of just food blog recipes last week.”

“I’m not the one browsing them. Jade is.”

“Well, I’m cutting both you and Jade off. You’re grounded from looking at food blogs together. I can only handle so many different ways to organize a bento box before I go crazy.”

“Henchman,” Grim whines, nuzzling his fur against your cheek. “But they all look so yummy.”

“Grounded,” you had declared just before pushing open the door to Dire Crowley’s office, knowing he was already expecting you. How you wish you could re-spark that easy conversation between you and Grim. How you yearn to have the foresight to ignore his summoning.Now, you stand in front of Crowley, frozen. 

“He-Henchman,” Grim whines, trying to get you to speak or at the very least blink.

Blind-sighted is the only accurate description for you. Your eyes sit in your skull like wispy white spider eggs, paralyzed. If breathing were not a necessity, you would dare not even breathe. Vision blurring, you focus on the thin lips of Crowley underneath his raven masquerade mask, replaying all he had said. Salted water twitches on your bottom eyelashes. 

After seven volatile overblots, the too close for comfort spell of comatose casted over the entire world, and two years of rapidly draining hope, you had a way to go home through the assistance of the Dark Mirror and Dire Crowley.

You think you really are going to puke.

The only thing that halts your throat from cleaning itself of previous dishes is the bite of Grim’s fangs on your cheek. Like four tiny needles, his fangs sink in with a vengeance. You startle back with a yelp, stepping back, fruitlessly because your attacker is still laying on your shoulder. “Grim, ouch!” Blood holds itself unsteady in the puncture mark before one droplet slides down your cheek. You bat him off your shoulder. “That hurt.”

Grim lands gracefully in the space between you and the Headmaster. He turns around on two legs, neck craning to look up at you. His eyes are wishing wells of cerulean blue. You know what that sorrowful color means without his frowning eyebrows telling you his thoughts indirectly. “You’re not planning on going are you, (Name)?”

You are not a fantastic multitasker but you might just find yourself puking and crying. The wobble in his voice as if his emotions were an earthquake. How were you to explain what it was to yearn for family when Grim’s only family was … his only family was you. 

“Gr-Gri,” your bottom lip trembles. 

You find yourself unable to do anything but react to physical pain. Speaking meant acknowledging it. Ignoring Grim’s question, you look up at Crowley, past his lips to those glowing eyes. “Headmaster, I –” Your words pitifully stop there. No section of your mind can construct a sentence and you cannot even say Grim’s name fully.

You look at him with child-like vulnerability. Vulnerability seen in the eyes of kindergartens who are squeamish that the world has become big — the world offering more than just their four walled home — and thus look up at their teachers for guidance. Nervous without their parents around. Sevens, you are only nineteen. 

You cannot lie; I want to see them again.

Perhaps the desperation in your eyes is prominent because Dire Crowley quickly amends, “Now, this is not without some wiggle-room. I am not an unreasonable person! According to the Magic Mirror, you have exactly a month before the carriage arrives. Plenty of time! 

“Now, I have done my part in delivering the news,” Crowley says jovially. Jovially as if he has not turned your entire world on its head. 

“Wai –” 

You stutter. A hand is already pressed firmly on the small of your back. Your body shudders with a riptide of thoughts. Thinking about the conditions of how you will get home, thinking about asking for an extension, thinking about how unfair it all is. After Tsunotaro’s overblot, you managed to accept your place in Twisted Wonderland and one raindrop day causes all that to shift into a storm.

All the conditions of Crowley’s instruction fight in your head. Five talons on your back fight to move your catatonic body. You feel as elastic as rubber and as stone as granite. Somewhere far away, you think you hear Grim hiss. What are you going to tell Jade? And with that horrible thought, you allow yourself to be pushed out of the office.

You think you feel Grim crawl back up to your shoulder but you feel as if some supernatural force has kicked you into the back of the line, kicked you out of your mind. 

“Now (Name), please remember the Dark Mirror says this event only lasts for four hours. Think of it like a solar eclipse; it is a change of elements allowing this method to work. The carriage will ride past the –'' The rest of Crowley’s words waterfall out his mouth like white static. There is a strange ringing in your ears. You think you might pass out.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you wag your tongue, speaking words you will not remember tomorrow. 

Crowley says something more but it is a breeze, wordless and untranslatable, before closing his door. You stare at the gradient of wood. There is an urge to knock on it again, worrying your memory is wrong and now is the first time you were called into Crowley’s office. But you know … how you know what reality this is. It feels like you left parts of your brain lobotomized and body amputated, lying beyond that gradient wood; missing parts of yourself.

You rub your cheek, a little blood gathering on your knuckle. Grim’s bite, you remember, bleeding as if you had dug into a pimple. “Huh? I.” Without fully gathering all the parts of yourself back up, you walk off after a breath of hesitation.

Grim hops off your shoulder as you two glide away. The physical burden of this situation is already a heavy weight on your shoulder, you do not need him adding to it. Observing that, Grim stays quiet on his two legs, keeping stride.

He feels his skin bubbling with questions. Your eyes are full of water refusing to fall. Will you two be returning to class or Ramshackle? You were called into Crowley’s office in the middle of Magic Analysis class. Would you really still have the fortitude to write up answers? 

Your mind was swimming with something much more tantalizing than the differences of divination magic in users like the Fates to users like Jafar. 

Grim watches you stop in the corridor. About two hallways away from Magic Analysis class. You stare ahead, blank and dollike; then, as if a horrid thought has passed into your mind, you move as fast as a scorpion. 

For the briefest moment, horror is in your eyes. A tight, clenching hand flies up to your face, slapping itself over your mouth as if you are going to vomit or scream. You squeeze your eyes tightly together, doubling over at the hip. Nails dig (four on the left and one thumb on the right side) into your cheek, forceful enough to leave marks. 

The pain is grounding. 

Hyperventilating for no more than ten seconds, you suddenly straighten up, taking a deep breath. You put the thought away like a child pushing their shoes into a cubby. When you look down at Grim, your eyes are dry as his big blue eyes implore you to speak. Your body shakes slightly like you have goosebumps running up and down your skin.

“Henchman?”

“Tuna croquettes. What would you say if I made some tonight,” you give Grim an unsteady smile but your voice is magically even. “You’ll have to pull your weight and help me. It’s been a while since we cooked together, right?”

Heartslabyul is the first to know. Thus is the natural law of order. 

There is probably an unconventional rule written down: lies can only be told on a Tuesday if the liar has prematurely prepared mealworms for the hedgehogs during noon … or … something eccentrically long like that. A rule only plausible for Heartslabyul standards. But you predicted, walking into Magic Analysis class yesterday, that Ace and Deuce were going to find out the truth first. Even if you were not prepared to tell them it.

The reveal was a far leap from graceful. Unplanned, your woes spilled out of Grim’s mouth, something about you not being there for finals. Sudden cobblestone hits your back. Wincing at the bite of the school wall, you wilt at the rapid fire of Ace and Deuce, not even getting space to speak, Ace starting:

“You only get a month! How long have you known!”

“Grim just told us you aren’t going to be here for finals, and he well – he!”

“He’s gotta be joking, right?”

“After Draconia’s overblot, I thought it was impossible to –”

“Prefect, I can not go through that again. I know I joke about sleeping forever. But those are jokes!”

“Ace! … But really how did Crowley and the Dark Mirror figure it out?”

“They haven’t contacted Briar Valley have they? Not even Crowley can be that suicidal.”

“I mean, I can totally understand if you want to go; we all have families but –”

“But you don’t want to go right, Prefect?”

“Ace, don’t just ask them that!”

“Oh shut it! Why shouldn’t I ask, you coward? No one else is gonna but us!”

“Wait, does anyone else know, (Name), besides Grim.”

“So no one else knows.” You nod. “Wait, when will you tell Jade?”

Never, a part of you thinks. Wanting to save yourself from the hurt, you judge wrongly that you can continue through this month without having to face Jade and tell him. You just want to avoid the pain. Cobblestone-made bruises hum on your shoulders, deep in reminder. 

You did not even get to break the news in Ramshackle, away from prying eyes. When you finally got a word in edgewise, you were still pressed against the outdoor wall of Night Raven College. The walking crowd was gratefully small … yet you stayed anxious over the idea anyone else would find out. The college was a hunting ground for weakness and each dorm was not above spreading a rumor. 

Your anger at Grim for revealing your predicament lasts only ten minutes. What good was fruitless anger when these might be your last days in Twisted Wonderland? 

Eventually, the group of five in Heartslabyul come to know. If Ace and Deuce knew something, the information eventually falls like dominoes to Cater, Trey, and Riddle. 

Even with two of the three away on their internship, the information was passed over. Your favorite cake appears glittering with magic residue on the porch of Ramshackle with a letter signed by Trey that leaves you shaking. Quotes on eternalism – specifically time’s finiteness – from books and poetry start to bloom on Cater’s Magicam stories, not enough to change his feed but enough to stir up suspicion, and you feel that pit in your stomach deepen.

Other than the five in Heartslabyul, you keep the predicament from everyone else. Tears welling up in Kalim’s eyes; disbelief writing itself on Ruggie’s face; the volume of Sebek’s concern mounting in your ears. You do not want to deal with any of it.

Jade … you do not want to even think of how that will blow over. Would you get tears? Most likely not. Would you be shouted at? No, you have not heard Jade really shout. Would his expression reveal his inner turmoil and disbelief? No, he is a master at schooling his expressions. So predictable yet not, you mourn, walking down the hallways to your next class.

When we are at the height of our most paranoid, we think that every conversation that we cannot hear is about us. 

You reflect upon this philosophy as you walk. Whenever glancing or idle eyes fall upon you, you get this stabbing pain running itself through your spinal cord. Your heart spikes when you see Riddle interact with Silver in class, jumping to the obvious: they are talking about me. Lips move yet sounds are unheard; in response, your heart drums a solo of fortissimo fear.

About three-fourth through the day, you leave Grim who has been gluing himself to your side with Deuce. Citing that you are feeling unwell and need to go to the nurse. No one argues with your firm insistence that you do not need a guide. 

Your feet carrying you to the Mostro Lounge is simply muscle memory. If you want to calm down, you go to Jade. Knowing his schedule too is all ingrained in you. 

The host sits you in a booth pressed snuggly against the aquarium’s glass. Upon your request, he neglects to give you a menu or coaster. This one time you will not be dining. You know it will vex Azul, taking up space where a paying customer could be, but you will make him forgive you. 

Underneath electric, pulsing blue lights, you sit like an egg in an incubator. Facing the stretching walls of a sixteen foot tall aquarium. Shielded and blanketed by cerulean and black shadows. Entirely still. 

What are you going to do? More people will come to know – people you care for and would not like to be torn from. And they will try to gauge or guide your decision, perhaps do both at once. You abhor that idea. All you really want right now is someone to be your rock to latch to when there is a riptide around you, someone who will be calm in the stare of a calamity. 

Questioning, your eyes trace the motions of a codfish. It is odd for one of them to be swimming off from the school. He swims on the very belly of the conjoined body the school has made, pressing the limits of harmony. 

The yellow-olive codfish starts to break the formation completely. Curious thing. You wonder if it has a disease. Determined, the codfish swims to the bottom of the aquarium, tail dilating back and forth as it heads down. But if a fish has an illness, usually they float? Ah, you are no marine biologist so you can never tell. 

Then, you finally spot what it wants. A mollusk resting against a rock formation, just shy of a fake shipwreck punched full of holes. The codfish descends down to it. Cold fingers go up to your lips, concealing a smile, effortlessly. Adopting his mannerisms, you think with a laugh. Ah … you really have been spending far too much time with Jade to the point where you mimic him.

You anticipate it this time. Sediment explodes in a puffing cloud. The codfish retreats almost comically. And, slowly like savoring his success, the moray eel slinks his head back through the cavern of the starboard, mollusk caught in his mouth. 

“Chamomile tea. It is known to soothe even the most anxious of souls.” 

To be honest, you would have expected that voice to be much closer. His chin hovering over your shoulder and teeth too close to your ear is typical. Turning to drink in the sight of him still in his waiter attire, you concede that you will have to get closer to him later.

You glance down at the ceramic, steam still rising from its watery mouth. “And you just happened to have it on hand?” It looks to be the perfect temperature too. The stream is not excessive or lacking. 

“On hand, why of course. I anticipated you coming here today.”

You raise a brow.

“It actually belongs to Table 5.”

Smiling, you pick up the teacup. Warm ceramic nuzzles into your palms and you take a generous sip. Near you like a guiding presence, Jade watches with one hand over his heart and the other holding the tray behind his back. “Well, I say my soul is subsequently soothed now. Thank you.”

He bows, bent at the hip, like a chivalrous knight. “Now,” he says as he tucks the tray under his arm, pulling out his notepad, “I sure hope the scenery alone hasn’t brought you to us today. Would you like to order now or later?”

“Aw, why do I get on the clock Jade and not boyfriend Jade.”

“Because I am paid by the customer.”

“But aren’t I just priceless?”

“The special of the day is also priceless. Monkfish. Though I’m assuming lobster rolls sound more appetizing to you than monkfish piccata.”

You hear your stomach growl at the notion. You gasp when Jade’s pen starts to move across the paper. Leaning off the booth, you push at the side of his stomach, glaring playfully. “Hey, no writing! I’m here to freeload; don’t ruin that for me.”

Chuckling, Jade starts to lean down to you, teeth all on his display. He looks ready to bite at your lips, all mischievous and elevated that you will definitely bite back. Staring each other down, you startle suddenly at Jade’s next move. Quite quickly, Jade shoots back up, wincing with his gloved knuckle pressed under his nose. 

“Jade?” You blink up at him as he furiously rubs the bridge of his nose. “Do you need a tissue?” 

“No, I'm fine, my love.” He gives one last rub to his nose. “Felt a sneeze coming on.” 

Looking at him unconvinced, you hum when Jade pushes your teacup of chamomile closer to you. Then, he grabs your right hand sweetly, squeezing it. Your eyes meet again. Sevens, you could fall into those eyes as easily as a suicidal man falls into a noose. 

“Why don’t you drink some more and I’ll be back shortly with food for us?”

“Us? Aren’t you on the clock?”

“You’re stressed,” he states like he is noting that you are wearing a certain article of clothes. As if it is obvious. His thumb runs itself up and down the ladder of your tense knuckles. “It’s a little evident, dear.”

Panic writes itself on your face. “Is it really?”

“Hm, now it is.” Referring to the way your eyebrows clench and your voice whispers in fearful tones. A manipulative, proud smile crawls onto his face. “But I know your soul after all, so it is evident to me.”

Jade lets your hand go, making sure you rest it on the teacup. Urging you one last time to drink, he stalks off to get you both some food for an impromptu lunch together. You watch his back as he disappears into the kitchen, blue light raining down on him.

Sweet and mild dyed water runs down your throat, on a mission to relieve you of stress. When you have about half a cup left, you set it down, contemplating.

You were so grateful for Jade. If you were only friends with him, you would have told him about this first. Advice from a Leech with benevolent intentions is often the best advice. Even Floyd, who is very go with the flow, is so emotionally intelligent. And Jade … Jade would not pressure you to give his details about your misfortune but he would also not allow misfortune to ruin you. Refusing to intervene too early or too late. He is like that sacred rock in the riptide. 

However, you and him are dating. That makes certain topics difficult to breach. 

Chamomile tea still the ideal temperature, you stare back at your reflection in the liquid. They pull down their lips. Worry has gathered fast and voluminous in their eyes like ants crawling all across a dead mouse on the ground, coating the brown fur to a patchy, thick black. Sizing up a reflection, you reflect on previous conversation.

Chamomile tea. It is known to soothe even the most anxious of souls. 

But I know your soul after all.

Souls. Soul. 

Perhaps you can tell Jade what is going on, just without directly telling him.

The Ghost Camera is a bulky thing. All heavy brass, that precious metal silver, and nickel. It almost tumbled out of your hands and into water during Camp Vargas; you could only imagine the speed it would have sunk at if Floyd had shorter arms. Eventually, you stop carrying it daily after your first year. Yet, you refuse to part from it entirely, still taking photos when you have it on you.

Perhaps it is an effect of being born in the very early 2000s but you adore having photo albums. Your parents had ten of you alone, separate from your siblings, and half of your childhood on camcorder films. It is in your DNA to keep memories. 

Or Memories as the fragments are called.

Though, you sympathize with Grim that a whole room of photo albums might be extensive. But you have a whole house to yourself! And Sam sold you photo album books at a very cheap price because no one at a college wants to have physical reminders of being at college. 

And how they could become physical reminders.

There is no system for the room crammed with albums. You do not have not enough time to delegate a day to organize each album by person, dorm, or month. So, letting fate guide you, you pick up three books, cradle them in your arms, and announce to an unimpressed cover, “Okay, let’s do this.”

The Ghost Camera is unique. Takes ordinary, unsuspecting photos then does a full 180 by being enchanted with magic. 

When the user photographs a subject, it photographs a part of their soul along with the physical form. Memories are those soul fragments. If a soulbond between user and subject comes to be, it allows Memories to move across the surface like twenty second animated clips. If a soulbond between user and subject deepens, Memories can slip out of the photograph and take on corporal forms. 

One night you dreamt of chasing a rabbit and woke to Ace, who had slipped out of the photo, standing over your bed. How you screamed. Until he floated silently back into the photo you had on your nightstand.

Once, a fake Floyd had tried to juggle three glasses of spice in your kitchen before one had fallen through his flickering, tangible then not-tangible hand. Then, the Memory had the nerve to melt away, leaving you with three broken spice jars. 

Malleus had once strolled down the hallways of Ramshackle, mumbling over the decorations you hang onto walls of a once abandoned building, before sliding down a hallway, never to be seen from again that day. 

The only way you can feel a Memory from the real person is the lack of warmth. It is like stepping out of a toasty car at the peak of winter. Memories carry along with them an icy breeze, unable to be fully human. 

Grim is in bed asleep, warm, and you really only have time to do this now. Walking down to the lobby, you slide your hand over the spine of the albums. If you can ask whoever is in here for their advice, you never have to reveal the situation until you are at the ready. 

A dodge on your part but who readily jumps into despair? 

You collapse on the couch. With the weight of the albums in hand, a horrid thought passes in your mind. Cinderella’s stepsisters and the glass slippers.

Cinderella’s stepsisters, you will always be like them. You will have to slice off your heel and toes — as if you are carving into an apple or slicing down into a row of carrots — to fit into the glass slipper of Twisted Wonderland. Of Sage’s Island. Of the Coral Sea and Queendom of Roses, if you ever visit. You walk magicless in a world of magic, limping while blood soaks the inside of your crystal heels.

The thing about mushrooms is that you cannot just plant one into a terrarium. 

Originally, you were under the assumption that it was like moving flowers from bed to bed. Jade cleared up the misinformation for you. You could not grab a full-bodied mushroom, that had already lived a life outdoors, and stick it into a terrarium. Full-bodied mushrooms would come to reject the ecosystem. The key to get them to stay? The key was to get the mycelium into the ecosystem; without the support system underneath the soil, the mushroom would wither and leave in a few days.

As you rummage around in the bucket from your recent Sunday date with Jade, you know there is little you can do. Some would take and others would not. Shifting, latex-covered fingers stir through the rather common mushrooms, passing over maybe only two or three rare ones.

Apparently, the one you tried to pluck off the cliffside six days ago was poisonous to the touch. Not enough to be fatal but you would have gotten a nasty itch coating itself over your hand. Even with the latex on, you avoid touching it. Jade’s hand is still a pinkish-red after all.

Stupid Jade, you think fondly on the protective eel and take a mushroom out of the bucket. 

Terrariums are beautiful but mushrooms are rather fleeting. As you start to crumple up the gold-hued chanterelle mushroom in hand, you reflect upon the matter. Take for example the terrarium tank you are working on currently in Jade’s dorm. He has three on his bed-side shelf: one cylinder, one spherical, and one square. The one you laid on his desk is the spherical one. 

This one terrarium has housed pholiota adiposa, then albino pleurotus ostreatus, and now gomphus clavatus mushrooms (known as pig ears), and has probably housed more before you even knew Jade. 

Mushrooms are decaying plants. It is nearly impossible to curate an enclosure that can house a certain fungi all year round. After a while, Jade simply scraped all that death up in his hand, threw it into the compost bin of the botanical gardens, and departed from it.

A part of you would never understand how Jade could deal with it. All that hard work only for it to naturally wither and go. You suppose he dealt with it because he adored change. Who would have thought? The always-in-control Jade Leech actually enjoys seeing things shift and change. You understood his love of a challenge though. His unfinished magnum opus was a terrarium breaking the laws of nature, trying to get nine species of mushrooms that mimicked a coral reef in one single environment. 

“Each species of fungi have different growing conditions that they favor, so it is impossible for me to recreate all of these in the same ecosystem,” he once said.

“So why even try?”

“I think it is most enjoyable and eye-opening to covet after the impossible.”

He then looked at you like you were a meal, speaking double meanings with a honeyed tongue. Scandalous yet not, so you could never accuse him of being scandalous at any moment. Ah … even the memories of Jade could make your face feel warm. 

Distracting yourself, you start to add little bites of the gold-hued fungi in hand, tucking them under the moss and placing them on the tree bark. 

Jade’s unfinished magnum opus involved this glasshouse– the pig ears, gomphus mushrooms. Gomphus mushrooms could not be successfully cultivated as they are mycorrhizal, meaning they form a special relationship with their host plant. Two of the nine species he was working with for his coral reef terrarium were mycorrhizal, pig ears and indigo milky. And Jade finally got a mycorrhizal species of mushroom to sustain itself in an ecosystem made of glass. Proving the impossible was possible. A smile reaches your features, feeding more of the common mushroom in the terrarium so the pig ears could feast. 

Though that one project was going to have a long way to go, you had faith Jade would be able to complete it, despite the ecosystem and biology of fungi fighting against him. Would you be there to share in that victory? You dip your hand back into the bucket, ignoring the squirming of your stomach. 

The door clicks open. 

You look up to be greeted with the sight of teal hair and spindly limbs reaching up to six feet and one inch. Tongue already forming around the ‘J’, you stop suddenly. One then two Dunhill shoes – costing more than you will ever keep in a month’s pay – are kicked across the pale lilac floor. You watch cap-toe shoes sumersault and tumble. 

As he falls into bed with a groan, you greet, “Hi Floyd.”

“Shrimpy!” You blink in surprise as the exhaustion seemingly disappears out of Floyd. He props himself on his elbow, legs shuffling a bit further up the bed, and a predator’s smile pulls on his lips. Energetic at the sight of his twin’s significant other.

“Was wonderin’ why my bed was so neat,'' Floyd hums … and oh, he must still be exhausted, you observe. Lying back down in the bed you cleared of candy wrappers and sheets you straightened, Floyd slightly props his head up with his crossed elbows and a pillow so he can keep talking to you. “What ya doin’ here?”

“Just helping Jade with his terrariums. I wanted to repay him for the chamomile tea.”

“Shrimpy’s so sappy.”

“Hey, I just adopted the Octavinelle values. Can’t be walking around with a debt. Got to keep us on an even playing field.”

“Mmm … which ones?”

“The pig ears. They’re so volatile. I’m worried if they’re going to stay or not.”

“Is that what has Shrimpy so stressed?”

“Hm? I wouldn’t say stressed. Just trying to figure out how I should handle them.” 

You pick another mushroom out of the bucket. Gomphus mushrooms were so sensitive. Cousin to chanterelles mushrooms, you could safely add the gold mushroom in – as you had just done. Looking down at the mushroom you now hold, you consider if it would be safe fertilizer for the pig ears. You do not want to jeopardize the delicate balance. 

Under Floyd’s watchful eyes, you put the mushroom you picked up back into the bucket. You start to rummage again before the eel’s words interrupt your work. “So what’s got ya so stressed?” 

Not catching his drift, you say, “Nothing? I’m not too stressed right now.” It is a true statement. Your body feels entirely at ease, just measuring how you can help here and there with the terrariums. You cap the glass enclosure with the glass cover. If Floyd wants to sleep, you should not impose. 

“Ya smell stressed.”

“You’re a real gentleman, you know that, Floyd?”

Ah, that old reliable nose of an eel. Hiding a playful smirk, you sing, “Well, I’ll get out your hair so my musk doesn’t ruin your sleep. I was just about done with everything anyways. I think Jade’s going to use the rest of the mushrooms from our hunt to cook something.”

“I’m serious. Ya stunk ever since Tuesday and ya stunk real bad on Friday,” Floyd says in a low tone, eyes glued to your back. “Kinda still smells now too. Not as bad but still.”

You are glad you get the terrarium down safely on Jade’s bed-side shelf because your hands shake at Floyd’s words. Ah, that vexingly reliable nose of an eel. Trust their olfactory system to even pick up the stench of tension like a dog picking up frequencies unheard. You sit back down on Jade’s bed, spine facing Floyd.

“Just school stuff. Crewel’s been on my ass about a test. I need to get mine and Grim’s shared grade back up in Animal Languages. Things like that.” 

You can lie successfully with your body, keeping it from tensing in betrayal. You can lie successfully with your vocal cords, keeping them even and precise. However, you found you can never lie eye-to-eye with Floyd. It did not matter whether the golden eye was on the left or right. Somehow that flaming, glittering sun burns you to the core and figures out the undeniable, obsidian truth.

Already, you are mapping the escape route. Just a quick spin off Jade’s bed, grab your phone from his desk, and exit out the door. Avoid his eyes at all cost as if is a predator, and that he is. Moving off the bed, you say, “Like I said, I’ll leave so my musk doesn’t –”

“(Name).”

Your eyes snap up; a gasp is pinched tight in your mouth. Floyd challenges you back with his luminesce eyes. Bristling a hissy cat, the back of your thighs hit Jade’s mattress and you whine, “I hate when you two do that!”

Floyd laughs. He laughs in his normal, nasally drawl instead of the deep, sinister tone that Jade has. As Floyd takes pleasure in your surprise at his perfect impersonation of his twin, you refuse to look at him. The gloating jerk. In a rush, you grab your phone just as Floyd starts to speak, “Ya always fall for it, Shrimpy. It’s cute.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Ya stressed around Jade?”

“No.”

“Really? Ya reek right now. All stressed out after hearin’ ‘Jade’ speak. Smells like wet dog and cigarette smoke.”

“I’m not stressed,” you argue, flipping on your phone to check the time. Above Jade’s head, white numbers stare back at you, 4:43, and you watch it change to the next minute with a scowl. The screen goes black; angelic numbers and the photo of Jade leaning over Ramshackle’s oven, cooking a meal for your one year anniversary, disappear. “Look, I’ll –”

The words die in your throat when you and Floyd lock eyes. He knows I’m scared but just not of what. You cannot blame Floyd with the way his mismatched eyes narrow, little squinting fireballs of suspicion. He is only looking after his twin. 

“I just need a little time before I can tell him, okay?”

“Kay, Shrimpy.”

Glance around the bedroom; check that you got everything in hand. You lock eyes with yourself, heart agonizing in your chest like a clawed talon has made it its footstool. Your happier, lighter face smiles back at your crinkled expression. Frozen in mirth. Stuck in a moment of easy breathing and thoughts. The photograph on the desk of you and Jade taken from the Ghost Camera. Only one of you looks at the lenses and the other stares down at the person pulling them into the surprise photo. 

Uneasy thoughts fill your head. This is the photograph Jade wakes up to every morning. He had even cut Azul and Floyd off the edges of the polaroid, chuckling evilly when Floyd gapped and Azul sneered, instead of just folding them off the edges. Always wanting to get a reaction. 

Would the facsimile of your soul one day be all that was left for Jade to keep? A photo that might fleetingly speak the words of your heart to him. You imagine it with a wince: Jade talking to a facsimile of you, empty of your warmth, but still there. Staying when you would not. 

I don’t want that for him. I don’t want that for me!

I want to see them again. 

Gomphus mushrooms. School assignments. The dinner you have to cook. Whatever lingers in your brain, you try to focus on it to distract yourself from the conflicting yearnings of your soul. Eventually, you will come to tell Jade. It might be procrastinated upon already, but better late than never. When you left the Leech twins shared bedroom, you did not realize how right you were. Eventually, you did come to tell Jade. You told him that very night, at 2:13 A.M., on the porch of Ramshackle.

You have not been sleeping well since Crowley broke the news to you. Everyone knows this. The concern is clearly written in Ace and Deuce’s faces when you two have classes and lunch together. Epel gives you the caffeine and Vitamin C eye-roller that he never used his first year. Sebek and Jack take to allowing their large hands to be the barrier between your cheek and a cold desk that might startle you awake. 

Crawling out of bed, swollen eyebags aching like a bruise, careful to let Grim sleep, this is normal now. 

Stumbling feet successfully walk themselves down spiraling stairs. One foot by one foot. Out of the corner of your lidded eyes, ghosts move like the undulating waves of a storm, pellucid bodies pulsing without a heartbeat. Sweat rolls down your neck, soaking into the nook of your collarbone. You miss the last step, bump hard into the wall, and that is all it takes. You start crying.

Uncertain of why you are down on the first floor instead of the second, you cry and cry, confused. When did you get out of bed? Your only answer is the raspy noise your mouth exhales. The loose t-shirt that is three sizes bigger than yourself is constricting and choking you. 

The waterfall on your face continues steady even when the warm breeze of spring-turning-summer fights against it. You would take in a deep breath of fresh air if each breath you did take did not feel like drowning. Engine lungs refuse to start smoothly, instead churning with gasps and coughs of water.

I want my Momma. I want my Jade. I want my Dad. 

Your butt falls heavy on the steps of Ramshackle, knowing there is no one coming for you. There will no longer be any hortative, glowing green fireflies coming to save you tonight. You sit there, presuming you will fall asleep from the exhaustion of weeping.

You feel like you are on a boat. A boat in the middle of a snow-globe. Turning and turning is fruitless because the sight is never changing eternalness: blue waves and a lighter blue sky. Color that cuts into sadness. Color that swallows. You can pirouette, jump, do handstands, but the sight remains. Blue on blue. On a boat that you do not even attempt to steer because there is no direction you want to go in.

Your mother once said she was so in love with your father that she knew he was the one because she would put him above her parents. Never getting enough of each other. Time spent with him was just better than time spent without. Better than being with her own parents.

That is love; when you find your person, you put them above everything else.

The iron gate to Ramshackle creaks. 

You would like to say you watch Jade Leech climb up the cobblestone path to Ramshackle, thinking about the definition of love, but you cannot see past your tears. All you see is an emulsified blur of black, teal, and dark green water. Furious hands whip at your face. Eyes red and face warm, you look up. He is still a haze of skin, hair, and clothes sliced into little horizontal lines of color.

“Ja-Jade?”

“Pardon me if it sounds odd … but I heard you crying in my dorm. Of course, you weren’t there. But it still made me anxious so I decided to check.”

You sniff, scrubbing your eyes harshly to clear them.

“And here, I do find you crying in the exact same volume and manner.”

“Sorry. I —”

“Nonsense. You need not apologize for your tender disposition.”

“Sorry,” you say again. You drop your head at Jade’s exaggerated look. The exaggerated look on his face is only a squinting of his eyes. However, you can decipher and tell the differences between the twenty eye-squints Jade Leech can make. 

You keep wiping away tears as Jade sits down by you on the porch. Vision clear, you smile at the rare sight of Jade in his pajamas. Oh, those are the fleece pants you bought him with a blue flannel pattern. A bit comforted by that, you lean into him as he rests an arm upon your shoulder. 

“If my own disposition is not seen as rude, what is troubling you? You are not known for being so out of sorts. Crying is one thing, crying outside Ramshackle at 2 o’clock  is another.”

“Do you think I smell?”

The smile grows a bit on your face as Jade quickly tries to submerge a laugh with his hand. 

“Sorry, that was ah, a bit unexpected.”

“Heh, I know.”

“But?”

“Floyd made a comment early. I smell like stress.”

“Well, I would be lying if I said I hadn’t noticed too.”

“I think I could tell when you pull back from that kiss all the sudden. The sneeze excuse wasn’t very convincing.”

“Come now, I am an excellent actor.”

“Not around me.” You warm up when Jade trails his hand up and down your arm. Not around me. I can always read what is on your mind, Jade. 

“Ah and there goes my dreams of being the first eel-mer movie star. Why are you so cruel, my love? Crushing a poor eel’s dreams?”

“Ah, my apologies,” you say remorselessly. Playful, your hand falls into Jade’s hand. You take to drawing swirls and seashells into the rough, warm center of his palm. Above, a few droplets of water start to sprinkle out of the sky. A slight change in the weather as you start to draw more seriously.

“Thank you.” He plants a kiss on the crown of your head. It settles on you like a flower petal, soft. “Now, would you like to tell me what has made you so incredibly stressed? I can be very patient, forewarning.”

“When you graduate, where do you want to live, land or sea?” You watch three droplets hit Jade’s hand, feeling a few pepper themselves on your shoulders and back. You take one droplet and smooth it out into the image of a starfish. That is not what you wanted to come out of your mouth. However, the chronic worry you have had about graduation slides out of your mind easily. 

In the dust of rain, you listen to Jade’s answer. “If I were to choose … between land or sea … why that certain is a weighty question. And to think you have been all alone in your musing about it. How sobering, I cannot even imagine such a barnacle of a thought.”

“You’re stalling.”

“Hah, I can never keep things hidden from you, can I? Let me think.” He cannot draw up an arm to his chin but he definitely has that same contemplative look on his face. As rain kisses his crown, he slowly says, “Both land and sea come with advantages. Though I have only known land for three years, it has gifted me with wonderful consequences that I have never thought I of all merfolk would know.”

“I’m a consequence?”

“Quite. My favorite consequence,” Jade replies tenderly. “The sea can be seen as inhospitable to visitors. I happen to enjoy the cold and dark where others do not. I suppose I would have to measure the decision through memories. Am I fonder of the memories of my childhood or am I fonder of the memories of my education?

“I still have the chance to cultivate and reap the benefits of my education, unlike my childhood which is long gone. But, in the end, I would want both land and sea. And somehow, I would find a way to make that possible, no matter ecosystemic limits.” 

You wilt as the rain starts to grow more constant. A few twenty or so dots of water are not gathered on Jade’s palm. Taking the abundance of paint, you draw the face of an eel with the water. “But it would matter: the consequences and the people you could possibly leave behind.”

“Your worry is about whether I would stay with you or my family?” You cannot nod because that is selfish of you, pushing your dilemma onto your boyfriend. Jade can tell what exactly the root of your stress is even as you draw. Leaning to be heard better over the rain, he says, “I would never leave you, (Name).”

“Crowley found a way to send me home.”

Jade tenses up. You wilt when the canvas of his hand suddenly changes , hand gripping your hand in a tight, binding hold. 

“Pardon?”

“Crowley, he found a way to send me back to my home. I–” The clouds of your eyes grow heavy. “I don’t know what to do, Jade.” 

Holding hands, you look up, hoping the answer can be found on Jade’s face. He is the decision  maker in the relationship, picking the food you eat, offering advice on homework; Jade always has this way of knowing how to solve anything. His expression; you need to see so it can guide you. 

Oh.

Oh. That is not good.

Profile stone and staring off into the dark beyond Ramshackle, Jade is unreadable to you. You wilt a third time. 

“Cater’s been talking about getting Kalim to throw one huge going away party. I told him you would really enjoy it if the Pop Music Club played Supertramp’s Goodbye Stranger during it.”

That sentence gets you to stop cutting the strawberries. Jaw dropping, you turn towards Trey’s villainous smirk as he pretends to innocently pipe frosting on the second cake. Only his profile faces you, acting arrogant to your mortification. “You … absolutely did not.” The response you get is the crinkle of Trey’s cheek as he tries to push down his smile. 

You whack him, taking vindictive joy in the icing that runs down the side of the mousse cake, and shout, “You jerk!”

“Hey, I just think the Ramshackle Prefect should go out with something memorable.”

“Isn’t being magicless enough?”

Trey takes to fixing the frosting as he replies, “You know Cater won’t do something so big without permission. He might just livestream all of it.” He picks back up the icing bag to resume and cover up the slight imperfection. “Would a party really be so bad?”

“Goodbye parties defeat the whole purpose of the word party,” you grumble. One by one, you plant the scales of cut strawberries on top of the strawberry tart. They extend out in the space of a lotus. “I’d be covered in tears and snot by the end of it. Ugh.”

“Hm, I suppose I see what you mean.” 

Trey and Cater, after being alerted of the news with your permission, manage to return to Night Raven College from their internships for the weekend. The use of magic makes it easy for them to travel in quickly, popping by for an unbirthday party.

Currently, you and Trey prepare the strawberry tarts (as is customary for unbirthday parties) and a chocolate mousse cake (as is customary for you to enjoy). Riddle has meticulously plotted out each faucet of this unbirthday party. Nostalgically, he reminds you a lot like his old tryantical self, barking orders as his stress rockets, meticulous to give you the perfect unbirthday party. When asking where you were wanted, Trey happily scoops you up before anyone else can. 

Playing catchup, you and Trey talk about a wide variety: how his internship is going, new recipes or meals you two have been introduced to or learned, the shenanigans of Ace and Deuce that Trey missed, and how your shared friend Jade Leech is doing.

To be frank, you enjoy Trey’s company a lot. Despite being a graduate of NRC, he makes you feel the closest to home. Normalcy. He expels this aura of normalcy that is absent from the rest of the student body. Pearly white, non-serrated teeth smile at you. Regular brown eyes shimmer behind his glasses. Within his presence, it is easy to masquerade around with the facade that NRC is a quotidian college. Protected by the walls of the kitchen, you can forget about the flamingos being used as croquet mallets and the magic pens waving through the air.

You are kicked from this fantasy comfort when Trey asks you for a favor. As Grim happily slurps up the leftover frosting from the plastic bag, a question is posed. “Can you do me a favor and grab the chocolate sprinkles?”

“Ah, of course.” Back on the paper plate goes your knife and quarter sliced strawberry. 

You turn to where the shaker of chocolate sprinkles lies. Ah, unfortunately it is on a pretty high up shelf. No matter, you stretch out your body and reach. Fingers only scrap the glass surface. You move to your tiptoes, stomach pinched by the countertop.

“Don’t worry, Henchman! I got it!” On stubby legs, Grim stands up from his spot on the counter. He squints at the cabinet overhead and stands on his tiptoes too. He makes it about halfway less than your reach. Ribs pressing into Grim’s fur, you stretch out like an uncoiling snake. 

You watch your finger slide down the glass. So close. You stretch when the sprinkles container suddenly starts to move. Putting your hands in front of your face in the shape of a triangle, you instantly coil back into a tight position and squeeze your eyes close. The impact never comes.

A wary eye opens and watches as the red glow of Trey’s pen and the sprinkled shaker that floats over the mousse cake. No matter how much you pretend, no matter how many times you stumble into your boring Wonderland, hoping all the magic is gone, it always comes back to catch you by surprise. Normalcy … you cannot get that back unless you go home.

Trey notices how eerily silent you are as you go about cutting up strawberries and hanging some of the banged up fruit to Grim. There is only one mousse cake but plenty of tarts waiting to be served in the kitchen. Well, it can’t hurt. “Here. For you.” You blink as two empty plates are put in front of you. “The piece of cake, or tart, typically goes to the Housewarden. However, I doubt Riddle will be too mad at this development.”

“Only been gone from Heartslabyul one semester and you’re already breaking rules,” you gasp with fake terror.

He simply puts a finger to his lips, eyes shining under his glasses. Trained, he empties a slice from each sweet with deadly, applause-worthy accuracy. Two confectioneries are put on the plates in front of you. As calm as an executioner, you stare at the two slices: a tart with scales of strawberries running across it and a cake with layers of mousse and bread laddering across it. 

And you suddenly know this is something deeper than just picking which treat you want to eat. Ah, Trey Clover is a Night Raven graduate after all.

Under watchful amber eyes, you pick up your fork. 

“Ha greedy, aren’t you?”

You admonish Trey for his teasing comment. Balancing the two sweets on a fumbling fork, you take the biggest bite of the overlap. Chocolate stains your lips. Despite that, it is the strawberry tart that you taste first. 

“Aren’t I the unbirthday girl/boy? I get to be greedy!” You grin like Grim does and stab back into the confectioneries. Your fork picks off a bit of the mousse then moves to scoop off a bit of the tart before returning to your mouth. So what if you are greedy for wanting both? You can make a Wonderland for yourself.

Right?

A week and a half left. A week and a half passed. Time falls on a perfectly split down the middle day. Wednesday, the day Mountain Lovers club meetings fall on.

As time marches on, voices become more vocal about wanting you to stay. The Unbirthday party had gone swimmingly with a few rough waves. You sympathize with it. Yet you feel you have to be so careful when conversing about it, any wrong word might cause anyone to jump to a conclusion. So, with the loss of sleep, you are also talking less. 

You wonder if everyone takes your silence as a sign you have made the definite answer. 

Not everyone though. Jade Leech. Jade is the only one not acting erratically. When no filter Ace had asked him to agree with them he wanted you to stay, the eel-mer had only put a hand on your shoulder, picking you up after the Unbirthday party, and said, “Why that is not in my expertise to answer. I’m afraid that I would have to vote for a no comment statement.” 

Calm, level-headed Jade. Calculating Jade. How you adore that detached yet sly nature of his. He is the sight of land after days of aimless traveling blue waters. He is chamomile tea on a sleepless night. He is a neat white pill of xanax. 

And today, you are blessed to bask in that tranquil presence after school. Waiting to be received after knocking on his dorm door, you think upon it. No interrogation. No stress. Just you and him, hunting and sketching mushrooms. You even picked up a new set of charcoal pencils at Sam’s Shop for today. You light up when the dorm door opens. 

“Ja – oh, hi Floyd.”

Something has set off Floyd. It is evident in the deep scowl cutting itself on his face. His discord eyes are dull. His posture is slouching like a deflating house made of bad wood. When you spoke, you even saw his hand twitch into a fist. Instead of attacking, Floyd blinks down at you and sighs out, “Sorry Shrimpy.”

Your grip on your bag tightens. “Um, why are you apolog –”

“Hello (Name).” 

A little of that happy fire comes back to your soul. Smiling, you look behind Floyd to see Jade dressed in his pair of cargo pants and lightweight thermal henley. Foraging bag slung over his shoulder, he is like a breath of fresh air, the normalcy that sweats from him. “Hi honey,” your smile is innocent.

You only notice it for a brief flicker of time: a nasty glare directed from olive and gold eyes to mirroring gold and olive eyes, so hateful that your heart pats in worry that you might witness a fight between them. Then the loathing bleeds out of Floyd. He nudges you out the way, stomping down into Octavinelle’s halls.

“I’ma go. Can’t stomach watchin’ this.” Words that depart with Floyd.

“Jade?”

“What are you doing here, (Name)?”

Your stomach drops. “I - uh,” your neck is growing foolishly warm, you have not heard Jade speak so monotone in a while “, well, today is Wednesday and so I came to – uh.”

“Did my lack of response not clearly indicate that I would not be needing you for this hike?”

Further and further, your stomach sinks. You know what he is referencing, the single text you sent about thirty minutes ago: Did you want me to bring anything for tonight? It was just a quick check-up on your part. It is unlike Jade to take more than ten minutes to respond to you.

“I just thought you were busy.”

“No. I was trying to indicate that I would not need you on this particular night.”

“But … but this is our thing.” 

Much like Floyd, Jade nudges you on the way. You stumble, staring at the expanse of his shoulders and back. He refuses to turn around, “Yes, but if I am to be alone in the Mountain Lovers club for the rest of my third year, then I should slowly wane off your company. A rational decision, yes?”

A hairline fracture snakes itself up your heart. Splatting, your stomach lands on the ground. Jade will not turn around to look at you. You look down your own foraging bag where those new, suddenly silly charcoal pencils lie.

“Um, yeah, that does actually make a lot of sense.”

“I will see you tomorrow though. So don’t fret so much.”

“I’m not fretting.”

“I know you won’t. That’s what I admire about you.” 

And then, he leaves, back still a wall facing you. Perhaps you do not adore that detached yet sly nature of Jade’s in its entirety.

It is only natural that things decay. Jade knows that. Observed it happen with mushrooms a hundred plus times. Brown rot, soft rot, white rot. The fear of rot gives way to the fear of death. Death: that final departure. He wonders if when you inevitably step through into the carriage, ebon stallions with steely gray eyes as cold as the Grim Reaper’s scythe carting you away forever, if it will be like death or decay. 

Jade knows you will not stay. Who would? So he is going to do better by you right now, be kinder and more unaffected, after tonight. He just needs this solitude for a few hours.

Memories of his twin’s face are dancing in Jade’s mind when he really wants to be focusing on you. It cannot be helped. They fought physically before, but never departed from one another still needing to fight. They would have fought. They should have fought. It was only the knowledge that you were arriving in fifteen minutes that kept them shouting at each other.

Floyd thought Jade was doing wrong by you. 

Jade told Floyd to stay the fuck out of his relationship. 

“Dad always said you were the fuckin’ coward of the family.”

Jade should have thrown a punch there. Walking down the hiking trail, he feels the knot of nails into palms. Easily falling back into the therapy of forming fists, Jade relocates his hands to the strap of his bag. Not yet. He cannot get destructive yet.

“You’re not gonna even fight for them!”

No. Jade was not because he knew your soul. It would only be natural for you to return home. It would only be natural for him to return to the sea. It is only natural for things to decay, Jade reminds himself as he finally makes it deep enough into the thicket of Sage Island’s forest.

Not this though. I wanted this to stay. 

“Nothing to be done except support them.” 

Jade says this to a peculiar looking tree as he removes the forage bag off his shoulder. He deposits it down by a peculiar looking rock. He is a master of nature but it is better to have landmarks for his belongings. Rolling up the sleeve of his thermal henley, the skeletal eel tail and filigrane ends of the waves tattooed on his left side peek shy from the rolled cotton. 

“Nothing to be done.” He finalizes the word with a nod. Then, he breaks off the path into a brisk jog. 

Jade has gotten much better with the usage of legs since freshman year. Experience conducts improvement. None of them had quite taken to it fluidly. Jade can still remember when he tried stairs for the first time, shaking like a lamb, yet still finding the ability to laugh smoothly when Floyd fell down them. Though Floyd had laughed even harder at Jade when he experienced his first calf cramp, thinking he had been shot. Thank the Sevens most of their blunders had been in training camp, away from ill-intent eyes.

I hate fighting with my brother, Jade thinks as he moves slightly to the right to avoid a rock too big to jump over. He keeps pumping his arms and jogging. 

Fighting is natural for moray eels. You have to fight in the Coral Sea to keep what you covet. It is not like Jade is lacking that urge to change the situation and make you stay. But this situation? It is too close to resembling a scenario where a person quits a job for the sake of their wife’s promotion; or someone changes their dream college to settle with the one their boyfriend is choosing to attend. 

This is something I cannot put up a fuss about. Jade passes a blackberry bush and tries to stomp out the memories that come with it. 

Your excited face — hand-feeding him some berries — laughing as you gather them up — pouring them into a muffin tin — a sweet and tart memory

You have to do what is right for you, not him, not Grim, not anybody else. He should not infer or try to influence you this upcoming week and half. Jade takes a meaningless right turn, trying to get lost deeper in the woods.

Yet as he falls deeper into the thicket of trees, spores, rocks, and leaves, he finds memories returning to him:

The smell of you, distinctive like red to a bull, swimming in the college hallways or in Mostro Lounge. 

The look of pride on your face when you find yourself able to read his true intentions better than all but two of the student body. 

The feel of the first time Grim chose his lap over yours, a reluctant purr vibrating against the cotton of his gloves.

The sound of you shuffling morning sheets and the sensation of the kisses you press to his face to arouse him from sleep.

Your smiling voice left like a voicemail —

— That happy world tumbles down upon Jade like a Jenga tower, suddenly unreachable, as he too tumbles. A loose tree root snags his foot; ground flies towards him. Barely expecting it, Jade gasps as cold and wet hits his face.

Mud. Mud from the previous days’ rain presses itself to his face, soaking into his cuts and unraveled hair. Throat undulating, Jade starts to spit back the wet dirt he had taken from the earth. The crust of sediment coats his lips like a cosmetic. He watches brown saliva bubble under him.

Jade’s hands embrace the ground as he positions himself up on all fours. He watches his hand. Cold blue of his veins like the tassels of a jellyfish. Red-pink heat of his knuckles and palm bed. Contrast to the pale calcite-like bloodlessness of his skin. All of his skin ill-fitting. Pale dough splitting apart in gaping ovulate mouths. Himself. Splitting apart down to the last atom. 

I – I – I –

He can barely feel his frozen body move as he lifts up one fist. Mud-stained teeth grit. His fist flies in a frenzy. Two, five, seven, eleven, twelve, fifteen. Moving like an electric chisel, Jade punches and punches and punches into the ground until a tiny crater is left into the earth where he fell.

It is not enough and Jade knows it. He pulls his hand back, chocolate-dipped with mud and leaking from the new wounds a rock had given him, as he sits on his haunches. 

Both of his hands go up to his face, covering off where open mouth breathes flicker out of him. It is not enough.

As if he was kicked into the back of line; as if he has lost his mind; Jade jumps up with a spark, turns towards the nearest tree, and punches it. Pain splits down his arm like lightning and it feels calming. Now, red is flowing in equal measure with the brown. He wants to do it again. He wants to fight until his fiery soul is extinguished. 

People think him so different from his twin. Floyd and Jade are the same; both yearn for a good fight now and then. Jade simply hides just a small percentage better than his brother, under a sheep’s skin like an ill-fitting and tearing apart in oval holes. 

There is no need to wear that soft suit when he is alone, in a far off corner of Sage’s Island that no one is going to be at this hour.

Jade goes through the motions of his emotions, all of them rocking him as violently as Charybdis’s whirlpool. His fist falls like a meteor into tree bark. Hair is pulled and yanked, just to give him the satisfaction of pain. The ground stirs at the violence of his long legs. Finds a rock, kicks it. Finds a bigger rock, kicks it harder. Trying to break one of his toes. 

His hand flows through wet leaves and mud, grabbing a stray branch. Jade turns towards a different tree. “FUCKING SHIT!” Slices his branch down like a claymore, a hum of satisfaction blooms up as the thick twig breaks into an explosion of wooden chunks with a deafening crack. 

“FUUUCKAAAARRRGGG!” He shouts back at the answering wilderness, two inhuman sets of teeth on display. A vein in his neck strains with the pressure of his harrowing, soul-tearing screams. 

When Jade returns to his dorm, covered in mud and blood, he finds Floyd asleep. It seems his twin found his own way to relieve himself from the cliffhanger urge to fight. Jade mourns that because he has not. His own energy and need to fight seems as vast as the ocean in his anxiety of losing you. 

He wants you to stay. 

“He wants me to leave. I can see it in his face. He wants me out of his life, and this is the ideal situation to do it without directly saying it. Agh, he is such a coward at times. And what’s worse! Is that he keeps acting like nothing is wrong. He took the hike alone and came back like nothing was wrong. Same old Jade. Not a word of the situation. Oh God, what if he does want me to leave,” you lament, shaking. 

A tissue box is nudged closer to you. You stir, looking up from the hands you had shelled up your crying face into. With a sniff, you grab a tissue, “Thank you.” You blow your nose and settle back into the loveseat.

Kleenex clutched tightly in hand, you continue speaking a voice clogged with tears, “You know, I’ve been wondering why Jade won’t let me in. He obviously has an opinion on the situation yet he isn’t saying it. So then, I start thinking he is being petty because I didn’t come to him about the situation first. Like maybe he thinks I don’t trust him with that information. But it was so hard to talk to him about because he’s my boyfriend. And I just want to talk now but I’m so scared about what he will say.

“I could always read him before. I just somehow knew what he was thinking at times. Now, I feel like he’s a jigsaw puzzle missing a piece yet I don’t even know what the picture is of anymore.” 

You hesitate and pass the moment by blowing your nose again. “Honestly, I feel like that too.” With teary eyes, you look towards your confidant. He gives a tiny huff of his snout, chin resting on the loveseat’s armrest between you. His big brown eyes simply stare wistfully at you.

“Are you going to communicate that to him or just to Pongo?” 

Eyes drawn away from Pongo, Crewel’s dalmatian, you glance towards the opening of the kitchen connecting to the living room. Your professor is deep enough inside the adjacent room where you cannot see, only hear him. You reply, “I’m trying to keep us on amicable terms. I don’t want him to think that I’ve made the decision to leave.”

“Then, tell him that very sentence, pup: I have not made the decision to leave yet. If you start off with that then you can continue on with explaining the rest. Do you think he has already thought you have made the decision yet,” Crewel says as he walks out of the kitchen. 

He carries a platter out in his lavious living room. Crewel is much more of a casual manner of dressing; a devil-red button-up with a silk evening tie, ebon with engravement of flora. He puts the platter down on the table in front of the two chairs, scolding Pongo off his chair. 

“That’s just the thing: I can’t tell what he is thinking anymore. I never really understood what Ace, Deuce, and Grim meant when they said they couldn’t really read Jade’s true intentions. Now, I feel the exact same way. Just second-guessing everything that comes out of his mouth,” you vent as Crewel accesses your bad posture. 

He must feel generous because he makes no note of it. “Well, mind-reading is a magical skill that not many mages master. So, though it is unfavorable, we have to learn to trust words at face value.”

“You say that if he is not Octavinelle’s vice-housewarden. Words are Jade’s sword. And he knows better than anyone that words can be manipulative, exploitative, and false. Since I didn’t come to him first, he is going to think –”

“Octavinelle students at their best are deeply intune with the world around them. That young pup is Octavinelle’s vice-housewarden because he is deeply observant and intuitive … and deeply sympathetic. I agree that words are his sword. A sword can be used to defend and help too. Do not restrict it.”

You wait until you have finished chewing around the carrot chip in your mouth before you speak, “I know that. To me, those are some of his best qualities … But! Octavinelle students work to solve problems. Jade hasn’t even given me his thoughts on my problem.”

“Perhaps he feels that if he says a certain thing, you will resent him. Or you will suddenly pick your decision because of what he says. I’m certain he wants you to make the decision for yourself.”

“But he’s one of the main reasons this is so hard to decide upon. Him and Grim.” Crewel’s face scrunches at the mention of your troublesome cat. “I love Jade dearly and I think of Grim as family. I know Grim’s thoughts. I cannot read a single thought on Jade’s face.”

Your eyes fall down to the floor, suddenly too damp to maintain proper eye-contact. “It is like he is shutting me out while staying robotically in the same relationship we had.” 

In your ribcage, the valves and arteries of your heart give a painful jerk of agony. As if noticing, Pongo empathically rests his head upon your knee. You greet him with a soft whisper, stroking down the crown of his head to his neck. You are still shaking.

“Nothing happens when you do nothing, pup. If you keep shuffling your feet upon the matter, eventually, when it comes for you to decide, you will be making a decision purely from your soul and nothing else. But that won’t give you closure. It won’t be good for you.”

“I don’t want Jade to resent me. I don’t,” you bit back a cry. Harshly, you pick up a tissue and press it over your eyes. After a few deep breaths, you manage to gain yourself before you slip down a watery, steep incline of the mountain of your emotions. 

“If neither of you talks to each other, nothing grows. Nothing changes unless one of you manages to talk to the other.”

“It’ll be such a painful conversation.”

“The ones that reap the most rewards are often the most painful of them all.”

You look up, eyes still incredibly wet. Crewel’s eyes resemble something like dark storm clouds. That color would suggest a bit of hardships but his advice flows off him naturally. You cannot look at Crewel like he is a surrogate father if you chose this world over your own. But, you will hold onto this relationship fondly, if this world is the one you stay in.

“I want him to know my soul again. I want to be able to read his soul again.”

Sometimes, Jade seems like a mountain. A bit too poetic comparing a hiker to the very structure they climb but it is suiting. Height aside, he is out of reach frequently. Scaling him – boots slipping on sediment walls, fingers bleeding with each desperate grab of sharp rocks – had been a trail as harsh as Everest. The view from above is breathtakingly beautiful and a sweet reward trumping all others.  

Your first kiss felt like being on top of a mountain. 

Mountains are rewarding but they are still mountains. A simple slip on slick rock and you bust open the crown of your head like a senile king or an old ram. Incredibly foolish of you to trust a jagged summit to keep you safe. 

Right now, he seems quite like a mountain. You worry over each of your premedicated steps in approaching this. Sizing up which indent of rocks you are going to trust putting your weight on. One breaking underneath you will not end it. Two breaks though … Jade might pull away from you. 

Studying the eminence of his back, you pick yourself up from Ramshackle’s couch and start the hike.

Jade does not even jump when you wrap yourself around his torso. You trap him in with an embrace, X-ing arms over his chest, underneath his arms. Steadfast, Jade continues with slicing long strips of fat into precise, 12 millimeter squares. Over the side of his arm, you look at the air-tight bag of hog casing and chop onions sizzling on the stove.

“Smells delicious. You look really good when you cook.”

“You say that no matter what I do.”

“Well, I can’t help that my boyfriend’s good-looking and I have to tell him so. It is just natural that I let you know.”

“Ah, then I thank you for the wonderful insight,” Jade says, all coy allurement in his voice. His knife falls and repositions itself to the start of the sausage, again and again like a guillotine at the height of revolution. “Can I ask you to add these in the skillet? I think you happen to look delectable when cooking too.”

“Good enough to eat?”

All you get is a quick flash of teeth, playfully biting air, as you reach over Jade’s body to grab the bowl he gestured to. You smile warmly. In the bowl lies chopped shallots, parsley, scallions, and a dozen more minor ingredients that you can identify. You take them, dumping them into the skillet. A tantalizing smell rises up to you along with a cloud of steam.

Taking a spatula, you start to stir the mixture. What is on the pan bubbles and cooks. As you maneuver the ingredients to burn evenly, you cannot help but think this is exactly what you wanted to avoid.

The environment of normalcy.

The ease of talking to Jade.

What a foolish thing to want to ruin, you sneer as you push at ginger and grounded cloves. But those two things have a masquerade mask slipped over them. Neither of you have brought up the issue once since the time you spent past midnight on Ramshackle’s porch. 

“Jade?” Jade hums, letting you know he is listening. Your hundred questions feel like acid in your throat. “What are we making?”

“It is Boudin Noir de Lyon. A French blood sausage. I’ve only attempted it twice before.” With his knife, Jade points at the long glass of goose blood that you have on your counter, next to the bag of hog casing.

“Ah, I see.” 

To be honest, you were unaware you had the components in stock to make Boudin Noir de Lyon. Sometimes, Grim and Jade just showed up with bags upon bags of food or food ingredients. You could understand why Azul wanted Ramshackle as a second Mostro Lounge. Shelves are bottomless and the kitchen is so spacious after your remodel.

It is a house wasted on you. You can easily look around and imagine all those industrious chefs roaming around, cooking and serving. Would Jade be content with the tradeoff?

“Jade?” This time you are going to try to go in and not dodge the subject again.

“Yes, my love?”

“You once said eels mate for life. Was that just sweet talking or is that a fact?”

“I thought the biology of merman species didn’t interest you much.” 

You remember that, saying that you did not need biology to let you know that Jade liked you very much and you liked him very much. So what if there were hints and nuances to learn about his biology. You just liked him; you felt at ease around him. “Just please … Please answer the question, Jade.”

“Eels and eel-mers usually pick only one to spend their life with.”

“Usually?”

“In the occurrence of a death or loss of a mate before one reaches adulthood fully at twenty, some eel-mers find someone else.” Jade elects to hold your hand instead of his knife, halting your worry-energized stirring and letting the spatula rest. The only thing you notice about his touch is that he is as cold as a December death. “We were only seventeen and eighteen when we met.”

“So you could find someone else if I left,” you say with a mix of relief and sadness. Then, your hand slips through Jade’s hand. You look at it with a gut-wrenching guilt, the collision of flickering skin and your tangible skin.

“No,” he says firmly, just barely managing to keep a growl out of his voice. “No, I couldn’t find anyone else but you.” And as if saying those words restore some of the bond you had, your hand floats back up as fake bones, muscle, and skin reappears. He squeezes your hand tightly.

You take Crewel’s advice. “Jade, I haven't made my decision whether I’m going to stay or not. I want you to know that: I haven’t decided yet.”

“I know.” He says those words. But he looks at you like you are something fleeting, like you are a mushroom collapsing in on itself, mildewed and smoldering, premature decay. His ice cold hand around yours is painful tight. 

“If I leave,” you choke on your words. With a gasp, you quickly pull away from him to wipe away the tears you were unprepared to feel fall. Ice rises up to press its thumb to wipe away the water. “I-If I leave, I want to know you’ll be okay. I want to know that you aren’t hiding away all your anguish from me.”

Clipped and short: “I can’t burden you with that. The weight on your shoulders is enough.”

“You ignoring this situation is a burden. I want us to talk. I want to know what’s on your mind, what’s in your soul.”

Jade holds his tongue. You try to pull your cheek away from him but that just worsens the misery in his eyes. You fall still, waiting.

“Jade?”

“I’d never be able to recover.”

“Huh,” you gasp breathless.

Even after such powerful words, Jade still holds his tongue in the cage of his mouth. The influence of words is not lost on a man such as him. If anything it is evident as emotions are on his twin’s face, unhidden. So very unlike Jade who keeps everything hidden to a certain degree.

Lifting a rock off his chest, unburdening himself, Jade confesses, “If you were to leave, I’d never be able to recover. There would be a hole in my heart always ready to receive you again.” 

Disconnected, you feel one tear race down the right side of your face and another tear catch on the curve of your left cheek, hanging and warm.

You were not ready to hear that. You thought you could handle hearing Jade’s true emotions but you had expected him to be losing interest. In his first year, he was fascinated with manholes; in his second year, he was fascinated with mushrooms; you expected this romantic interest to be fleeting. He learned to play bass in middle school then never picked it up again. Jade grows bored, he tosses things away, thus is nature.

He still has an interest in mushrooms, you think, he is settling down with his interests.

Were you two fleeting? An insecure part of you expected to be fleeting to him. I’d never recover. That is a far cry from a passing fancy that washes and recedes like the tide. 

“I’m sorry for saying my true feelings.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” you say, blinded by tears.

“But I’m making you cry. I’m cruel.”

You take his face in your hands, fingers clumsy due to impaired sight. “I’m glad to know it though. I’m glad you can say that.” Then, shaking, you go in for a kiss. And the fake Jade vanishes back into the photograph, leaving you puckering up for cold air.

With the sweet smell of a French meal you do not know how to cook lingering in the air, you cry and cry. 

You only have three days left to make a decision.

I’d never be able to recover. 

You have been rotating those words around in your head for thirty-eight hours. Moving the sentence around like it is a puzzle piece in a game. Dissecting it like it is the evidence that a serial killer left in the heat of crime. Even considering the weight of the punctuation mark. 

The true feelings of the soul of Jade Leech.

Grief comes without any sort of recovery. Instead, hurt erodes from the turret of time that passes through and splashes about but ultimately without cure.

I’d never be able to recover? Who’s to say that’s true?

But, the same sentiment rings true in your soul. Whichever you choose, the recovery path for the only choice will be fierce and full of regret. You will slice a part of your soul up and crush it no matter whether you go home or you stay in Twisted Wonderland. You pluck yourself out of the memory as you pluck a bottle of nightshade off Professor Crewel’s supply rack in potionology. 

Despite everything, you attend classes and unbirthday parties and … well, you would have attended club meetings, to procrastinate on the decision. If you leave, you leave with nothing but the skin on your back. You pour the deadly nightshade in the cauldron as Riddle, your lab partner, keeps stirring. You only have a day left. The phone in your pocket has been buzzing all day with concern but among the ladder of contracts you slide through you never see Jade 💕 among them. 

Pulling away to save us both the hurt, you think with a smile. That is so Jade, I should have been able to predict that. You watch the whirlpool of the gray mixture. Yeah, I’d never recover either. Then your lab goggles slowly but surely start to fill with tears. 

Riddle stops stirring, tool falling from his hand, when he sees you remove your goggles out of the corner of his eyes. You push them up and reveal bright red eyes brimming with tears. Tears so glutinous and heavy that it almost looks like melted wax. 

You cry because you know what you are going to pick. Your soul may fiercely want both options, impossibly greedy. Yet, now in the blimp of time, this pocket of your life, you have chosen the one you will go with. Removing the gloves from your hands, you start to furiously scrub away the ocean draining from you. It is so difficult to see. 

“Prefect, do you need to use the eyewash station? (Name)?”

“Ri-Rid,” you wheeze out. The waterfall is cascading down your face, clogging your voice. Gradually, the sound of you crying is starting to pick up a bit in volume.

“Prefect, what’s wrong? Here, I can use a spell to get it out of your eyes if you need. Did something splash up from the mixture?” You feel his smaller hand timidly rest on your quivering bicep. Sevens, your entire body is shaking like a power-drill. 

Students are starting to look in your direction. Morbid curiosity draws their eyes to you, listening to the gut-wrenching sobs you expel. Riddle’s face hardens in a glare. Frustration lies pink on his cheeks. With the force of your sobs, your knees start to tremble, tipping over the fence edge of buckling. You are a wreck.

“Professor Crewel –.” 

“Every single pup is excused from class. Right now.” 

The door is already magic-ed open. It takes a minute for others to pile out, some lingering in curiosity and some leaving steadfast in their recoil to no longer hear your cries. The click of the door breaks you and you finally collapse. Riddle goes down with you, gentle hand glued to your arm. 

“I need to make a call,” you manage to get out from your wet throat, crying as if you are grieving. You suppose it is appropriate. You are grieving someone who you will lose tomorrow and never see again. “I need to –”

“Who do you need to call, (Name)? I can call them for you.”

“Pup.” Crewel does not finish his thought.

You are back to being incomprehensible, crying like you have never cried before. Water coats your face and no matter which direction or what material you use, you cannot dry your face against the assault. Jade. You want Jade so badly. 

Riddle – top of his class yet failing the grade of life – stares, not knowing who you want or how to solve this. He grew up isolated; comforting others is not his specialty. “I could call Ace and Deuce. I can –” Riddle quickly locates his phone, fingers frantic. The phone slips out of his grip when a hand starts pounding against the classroom door. 

Beyond the tears, you hear:

“Class is dismissed –”

“Striped beakfish, move it.”

“Pup, I’ll have you –”

“Professor Crewel, I need to –”

“Shrimpy’s in there move it.”

“I don’t have time for this – move.” 

The arm in Riddle’s hand is suddenly wrenched away. You puppet your head up forcefully despite your tears. You should have known. Jade knows your soul after all. 

If it was under any other circumstances, it would be either terrifying or oddly hilarious, the open concern on Jade’s face. He collapses right down on the ground in front of you after pushing Professor Crewel out of his way. His face is taut with the emotions on it, a far cry from the always composed look he has. Only you could get such a reaction. His knee bumps your knee but you do not mind, throwing yourself on him and crying yourself dry of grief. 

“It’s okay. I got you. I’m not going to let you go, my love. I got you in my arms, okay?”

Jade’s single yellow eye manages to catch the bewildered look on Riddle’s face. There is a question in the housewarden’s expression: what’s wrong? It is obvious to Jade. You picked whether you want to stay or go.

A soul bond is engrained in the two holders. It allows them to read each other easily when they are at their strongest in a relationship. Thus, Jade knows exactly what you cry for. Riddle misjudges it as stress or a laboratory accident. Jade knows exactly why those tears fall down your face. You are staying in Twisted Wonderland. He knows in the beautiful, snotty, and wrinkled mess on your face: you are staying with him.

It is odd; all you wanted before was to talk, discuss, have a heart to heart vocally. You wanted so badly to restore your crippled communication. Now, you do not need a single word to let him know the entire situation, all the nuances are laid bare on your soul. 

“I got you. I’ll always be here, my love.”

He wipes flushed, wet cheeks and pulls you back in for a tight hug. You know when you feel tears fall onto your collarbone that they are his own soul thanking you for trusting him. 

The hand on Jade’s bicep is like ice.

Jade twitches, nose scrunching up. His bed tries to lure him back and make him ignore the comatose-cold hand on his arm. It is not a hard task; he is exhausted beyond belief and wants to sleep. His head tousles in the lilac pillow, falling back off the cliff into dreams, when the frozen hand starts to shake his arm.

“Mmm.”

“J … Ja … Jade.”

“Mmmmmm.”

Leave him alone. He is tired. Binding his pallid arms around the pillow in an amorous hold, he tries to dream. The room swelters with summer heat and the silk is like a balm to him. His bare stomach lies the inner sheets and the muscular expanse of rhomboids block out whoever is calling his name. Leave him alone.

“Jade, wake up please. Please Jade.”

“Leave me alone,” Jade groans into the pillow, words distorted with fatigue.

Above him, a sniffle and pathetic hissing cry breaks the heat. The sound is familiar. Out of mouth that is stringy with prison bars of salvia, tears, and snot, his name is called again. Around his eel sleeve tattoo, the hand remains shackled to him, gently shaking with each hiccup of tears. 

“Jade. Wake up.”

“Love?”

He blinks and there you are. Blue tears fall down your face and ice fingers pinch into ink. Jade is suddenly awake, releasing the pillow he was embracing and turning on his back, motions hazy with sleep. “Love?” His warm fingers reach up to thumb away the steady waterfall on your cheeks. Sevens, you are freezing. 

“What’s wrong,” he asks as he sits up in bed. For some odd reason, you are dressed up in your white button-up and slacks like you have somewhere to be going. His other hand reaches up and then he cups your face in his embrace. “What’s wrong, (Name)?”

“I wanna go home. Oh, Jade, I really want to go home,” you blubber breathlessly between your bawling. “I just – oh God – I want to go home.” Then, you fall into his shoulder, squeezing him tightly and sobbing anew. Sobbing inconsolable for your mother.

Jade knows that there are fresh tears wetting his bare collarbone but he feels distinctly out of his mind. Like his skin is not really his own, floating in a stranger’s body. Grasped in the throes of selfish panic, he pushes you tighter into his shirtless torso. Sleepy strands of hair are in his mouth; haunted eyes are unfocused in the dark of his room. Despite his large height, he truly does feel like he cannot come to terms with your words and is kicked out of his body because of it. 

Subconsciously, his dominant hand runs over your back in circles. Trying to use it as a rope to come back to his senses more than to comfort you. 

Home? But he had thought — had he mistakenly pushed his own soul’s objective onto you — you cannot go home!

“(N-Name). (Name), love,” Jade says into your ear. You do not respond, hysterically loud enough to drown out his voice.

He is surprised that Floyd has not woken up. The pitch and volume that you cry at is like someone screaming in a cave, knowing they are in solitude and can let it all go. Even when your teeth bite into his shoulder, your cries are far from quieting. 

It does not matter if Floyd was a deep sleeper — which he isn’t, Jade is the deeper sleeper of the two — no one should be able to sleep through this.

Yet, grateful Floyd is asleep, Jade hugs you tightly to his warmer skin. Shushing, he runs a hand down the crown of your head to your shoulder, hoping his touch will ground both of you from the cloud of agony. His grip is piercing, dug tight into your skin, but you do not bleed. Holding you so you do not escape him and leave for your home world. Selfish Selfish Selfish. 

Eventually you fall asleep; no one can cry like that without exhausting themselves. 

Eventually he falls asleep, blinking watery at his desk, thinking something is wrong with the image and doubly petrified for the morning. 

When he wakes up, there is no one in his bed.

#jade leech #twisted wonderland x reader #jade leech x reader #twisted wonderland

[romanoffsbish]

“I’M UGLY, AND I AM PRO—,” you went to shout off of the roof of the compound, hoping that Yelena would finish the bit off. Alas, your dreams were crushed as you were slammed into the ground, your words cut off by a pained groan. Your eyes slammed shut at the moment of impact, but now they slowly opened up to be greeted with a downcast expression. “Y/N! I cannot believe I just heard what I did. You are literally insane if you think you can call my gorgeous baby ugly…”

“Natasha, I was,” you went to defend yourself, and your right to call yourself whatever you pleased, but then she cut your presumed excuse off with a rough kiss. “I guess I’m going to have to remind you,” she growled as her teeth bit into your lower lip and you moaned softly.

“THIS IS STILL THE VERY PUBLIC ROOF!” Yelena shrieked, “With an entire team of people on it!”

“We are used to this,” Tony nonchalantly mumbled over the croissant in his mouth. “They can have the space…”

The team practically raced off the roof, Steve used his shield to carry the loose snacks from the potluck, Thor carried an entire table, and Wanda’s wisps brought in the rest. Yelena stood there gobsmacked for a total of ten seconds before running off after them as the two of you showed no sign of actually stopping the insanity.

“So, what are you?” Natasha inquired with a quirked brow and a hidden smile. You gulped, then gave your best answer, the one unlikely to upset her “Yours?”

“Better,” she snorted, but then she was nothing but serious as she pressed her lips to your pulse. “But we both know there’s more to it, so try again detka.”

“I’m your pretty girl,” you conceded and she smiled deviously. “Mhm, now let me make sure it sticks…”

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff blurb #natasha romanoff x female reader

[llondonfog]

for the anon who asked for brought back wrong silver, you have my undying gratitude <3 i hope you enjoy

The animals refuse to approach anymore.

The birds shriek amongst themselves and ruffle their puffed-up feathers high up in the trees, their screeching cries high-pitched and harrowing, while the squirrels and rabbits keep to the protective shadows of a forest more ancient than Malleus himself, bellies low to the cool loam. There is condemnation in their dark, liquid eyes as Malleus skirts the edge of the trees, a judgment placed heavy and irredeemable upon his shoulders that he feels the leaden weight of more and more with every step— he has betrayed them as their lord and protector, and for that, there is no recourse. 

He has betrayed the natural laws of magic— and for that, the valley itself knows no forgiveness.

There is nothing but penance in the way that he crouches to his knees in the moss and dirt, spoiling the utilitarian nature of his robes with smears of mud and crushed pine needles. It’s a cruel act of self-inflicted guilt that drives him back to this place, a sick resignation that he cannot escape from that which his very hands helped to destroy. 

For it is not him that the animals refuse to approach, but the child that kneels beside him, a child who has been kneeling for hours in that same position, stoic and with the passive interest of someone watching an ant amble aimlessly over the ground as the woodland creatures before him reel away in horror. 

“Father said they would come back to play if I kept still,” and that sweet, clear voice scrapes over Malleus’ ears like metal on bone, his skin and scales crawling over themselves in a desperate bid to flee. “He said that I just had to allow them to become reacquainted with me, but I think he might have been wrong.” 

Malleus can feel the weight of those eyes turn to him, pinning him in place like iron— he doesn’t think even iron would sear his soul as deeply, and it takes every ounce of palatial training to keep from visibly shuddering. 

He is a dragon, and dragons do not fear. But what sits beside him is something greater than fear, something worse than even a dragon. 

“I hope that he does not feel sad when I tell him that it did not work,” the little voice beside him continues, melodic and wretched in its siren intensity. Malleus would claw off his own ears just to keep from hearing it speak, and yet he would break his own horns to hear those lips form his name. It’s madness and love, and he fears each passing second may bring him closer to the breaking point— a point where Lilia has long since arrived. “He seems to be sad a lot lately, but seeing you will surely cheer him up. Isn’t that why you’ve come, Malleus-sama?”

His name in that mouth feels like a death sentence, a curse being etched into his very being by the way that tongue glides over the vowels of his name and those teeth hiss into the consonants. It binds him, keeps him silent when he wishes to bellow and roar and rage at the child beside him— each second in its presence feels like hell on earth, and he cannot imagine what it is like for Lilia. 

Malleus can’t imagine that his own presence would grant the old fae any solace either, only perhaps the stone cold comfort that there is another who bears half the blame.

No words rise in his dried, shriveled throat, and Malleus only nods stiffly while Silver beams at him, the animals crouched and silent in the forest swiftly forgotten. It is impossible to escape Silver’s smile, with the perfect scrunch of his nose and the rosy dimples in his cheeks, and Malleus finds himself struck by the violent urge to sink his talons into the soft, pillowy flesh and pullriptear until that disgusting expression is marred to pieces and crushed under his heel. His chest tightens with useless anticipation and he’s almost dizzy with both desire and despair for what he knows that he cannot, will not do. 

It would be a more noble endeavor to sink his claws into his own heart, offer it up bloody and bare in atonement, but the person most deserving of it no longer exists. 

“Yes, of course I shall come,” he rasps instead, and the thing that wears Silver’s body like a costume, the thing that Malleus stuffed inside that cold, sad little corpse to save what was left of Lilia Vanrouge’s collapsing spirit, claps its hands with glee.

Even in death, Malleus could never refuse him.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland silver #twst silver #lilia vanrouge #twst lilia #malleus draconia #twst malleus #diasomnia #lettie writes #i'll publish the ask that inspired this momentarily #but ohhhhh my god was this fun to write and delicious to think about

[mondaymelon]

𖥔 ݁ ˖⩇⩇:⩇𝟥.𖥔 ݁ ˖

⤷ a halloween event hosted by @mondaymelon !!

prev.

taglist: @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @silaswritesthings, @neigesprincess, @mintydump, @kaeffeinee, @scaranaris-lil-niko !! ignore me saying yes and refusing him lmao i was being silly

“No.” You took his hand readily and let him pull you to your feet. “It doesn’t.”

If the air around you had been a little less foggy, you would’ve been certain in the way his gaze softened, eyes turning to a liquid gold that shimmered in the rippling movement, like light reflecting on the water. “I see.” Even his voice was beautiful, slightly raspy and with a growl in his words, like a symphony made just for you. “Then it should make this easier.”  His sculpted arms dug into your sides as he leaned into you, each finger grasping your skin tightly, a hold that would most certainly leave dappled bruises on your skin. He opened his mouth, and his words flowed thick like honey. “I’ll explain when it’s over.” 

Something pierced your neck, two fangs sinking into your flesh, and then threading veins of warmth spread like wildfire across your skin. His fingers grazed against your nape, brushing any stray strands away. Not a drop escaped past his bared fangs, despite the red that began to stain his lips. Swirling, your mind had gone white, and you couldn't even formulate a single coherent thought, only letting a soft gasp escape. You would melt at the slightest touch, you were sure of it. 

He pulled away, lips streaked with crimson, and let out a quiet sigh as he brushed his hair back with his fingers. “Shit, no wonder why Venti went feral. Archons,” His voice dipped to a lower note, a whisper. “Why do you taste so…?”

Venti, who had been standing to the side, glanced up with an unpleasant expression. “Ah, what a hypocrite. Reprimanding me with such vigor only to go and do the same thing yourself, how unfair is that?”

“I did it for a reason, bloodthirsty bastard. You just go and bite anything that breathes.” Xiao scoffed, exasperated. He glanced at where you were, visibly panting heavily as your quickened breaths turned white in the air. “My apologies.”

“What… W-What the fuck?” You pressed a hand to your neck and felt blood dripping past your fingers, and you drew them back with a flinch. They were tainted in a red that trailed down your wrist. You had to force the words out amidst your heavy breaths. “You… You said…!” 

“As I said, my apologies. This was the only way to protect you. A mortal cannot go unguarded in these realms.” He looked regretful, he really did, but his eyes were not one of a human’s, and his rich voice was one that had persisted for centuries. The diamond pupils you had adored so much in the seconds before now seemed unnatural, like a predator's, and that made you his prey. “In time, you’ll understand.” He placed his gloved hand in yours, yet you felt no warmth radiate past the cloth. “Please, let’s head back to the manor before they find us.”

Another mystery to unravel. “They?”

Xiao shook his head, his black hair illuminated by the moonlight. His hushed words came out quickly. “You’ve traveled into the wrong territory. I’ve risked enough retrieving you, and if we stay too long they might-”

“Ah, look what the cat dragged in.” There was a laugh, a chilling one. Xiao instantaneously glanced up, expression cold as a curse slipped past his lips. He swerved to the right to avoid a blade thrown past his head, where it embedded into the tree trunk meters behind, the wood shrieking as it bent into two.

“Stay out of matters that don’t concern you!” Xiao shouted, but you could read the signs of uneasiness in his stance. How many lay in wait in the shadows? If you ran now, would you be able to… There was a final snap as loud as thunder, and then the great tree fell to the ground, completely uprooted. Venti giggled childishly like he was excited at the predicament.

Your hands shook. No way in hell. At least in Inazuma, you could do something against the perpetrator, but here. They were on a level of their own, and they had surpassed the limits that the gods had set for them.

“A rat who has snuck its way onto our land is squeaking. Ah, my ears hurt.” The same voice from before, but this time it was paired with a figure walking out from behind you, causing you to spin on your feet. A glimpse of indigo hair, fluttering garments, dark violet eyes that made him seem more dead than alive. Sharp horns that sprouted from his head and twisted towards the sky, and a whip-like tail that whipped with every word. He brought a hand up to his mouth, his slender fingers curling cruelly as he barked out a laugh. “Ha! It’s as if you wish to die.” His voice was sharp, not cold, but distant, as if he wasn’t fully there. The sneer in his tone made it all too clear that he was getting a kick out of this, even if the spreading smirk on his face didn’t make it obvious enough.

“Now, now,” a new voice had entered the fray, and it was lilting, almost hypnotic. “Wanderer, you can’t be thinking of killing them now, are you?” Red hair. Red hair? Dark horns that curled above his ears, and a sender tail that bent like a question mark. Green eyes that sparkled even though the night had been coated in black paint a thousand strokes over. The boyish grin plastered on his face made his cheeriness prominent. “Show a little courtesy, won’t you? Even if his majesty isn't here, it still seems we have a guest.” His gaze flicked towards you, and lingered a moment too long. “You aren’t planning to keep them to yourself, are you? It’s been a long, long while since we’ve ever had any sort of entertainment around here~”

“Venti.”

One word was all he spoke, but in a split second Venti appeared by your side, taking you into his arms as he held you bridal-style, his touch much less invasive than before. The way he held you so effortlessly, as if you weighed nothing, and how his every step was so gentle against the earth, like the wind itself was carrying him forward, felt like it was second nature to him. You blinked up at Venti with round, surprised eyes, mouth slightly ajar as your heartbeat raced against your mind.

“Ah, poor thing, they’re shaking like a leaf!” Venti sighed, pouting playfully. ”And come to think of it, I’ve forgotten to ask for your name… for now, please say the word, ‘transfer’ so we can teleport to the manor! I only have enough magical power for the two of us, y’know~”

“Venti, don’t you dare…!” The angry one had stepped forward, teeth clenched and tail lashing behind him, its point razor sharp. Something about his growly voice made your own die in your throat. His brows furrowed as his eyes darkened his expression into a threatening glare. “Don’t even think about it, or I’ll make sure this will be the last time you see him.” His eyes directed towards Xiao, who was watching the two of them with a scowl. 

“Go.” His gilded eyes glinted, and something burning settled into your soul.

Wanderer let out an abrupt laugh, seemingly startling even himself as his frame shook to his twisted amusement. “Two against one, do you really think you’ll win? I heard you’ve been staving off of human blood for a while now too, don’t tell me you actually are holding onto your foolish principles!”

Your vision blurred. Your mouth felt dry, like you hadn’t spoken in centuries, and every intake of air was painful. You could feel Venti’s expectant gaze staring down at you, yet your heart wavered. ‘Transfer’… if I say that, I’ll go back. But Xiao, and these others… what…what will happen to him? Fuck, will he…die…?

ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜɪʀᴅ ᴛʀɪᴀʟ.

next

#★ ˎˊ˗ mondaymelon #astronetwrk #favoniuslibrary #fanfiction event #halloween event #aether x reader #venti x reader #xiao x you #xiao x reader #kazuha x reader #kazuha x you #heizou x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact imagines #albedo genshin impact #genshinimpact #genshin fanfiction #wanderer x you #heizou x you #genshin kazuha #genshin xiao #genshin wanderer #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #x gn reader #x gender neutral reader

[yujo-nishimura]

Cross Guild Headcanon - Part 3

Comment: I saw this idea posted by @spaceagerabbit and really wanted to write it! And somehow it also fit perfectly with my ongoing fiction... so here we go - I present you a smut with submissive and whiney Buggy. This is also for @lostfirefly and @hellbaby237

Warning: smut, Buggy x female reader, a bit of force and violence, Buggy is a virgin, NSFW, minors do not interact!

English is not my native language, this has not been proofread.

Part 1 - Part 2

As you leave the room, ready to get help for your captain you suddenly are grabbed and pushed against a wall, screaming in surprise as you gasp for air. 

The scent of cigars seems to suffocate you and you immediately know who was pinning you against the wall next to the room you just had left - Crocodile was smiling at you with a sly grin. 

“Gotcha! Did the clown send you to run some errands for him? Then he needs to wait..”

You try to break free from his grip, realizing he is too strong to get away. 

“What do you want? My captain needs medical aid, I am in a hurry.” “Your loyalty is really admirable. What do you find about this loser so enticing that you are going all the lengths for him?”

"You wouldn't understand, would you?!" you seethe, directing your frustration towards Crocodile. You're well aware that such words could easily escalate the situation, leaving you battered and bruised just like your captain.You manage to restrain yourself from acting impulsively and instead wait for his response. Slowly, he releases his grip on you, seemingly impressed by your audacity.

"Would you be interested in joining the cross guild, little girl? Do you believe Captain Buggy would willingly share you with us?"

You stare at Crocodile in utter disbelief. What could he possibly mean by that?

"I don't think it's customary for a pirate captain to share their crew members," you cautiously reason, carefully choosing your words.

"Aren't you just Buggy's little plaything? Here's a proposition: demonstrate your true loyalty towards that clown, and perhaps we'll reconsider collecting the debts owed by your captain..."

"I refuse!" you exclaim, feeling as though you're repeating yourself. Deep down, you have an instinctive understanding of what Crocodile wants, but you simply cannot fathom accepting it.

Without giving you a choice, Crocodile swings open the adjacent door and forcefully propels you back into the room. Buggy was still sitting on the sofa, anxiously awaiting your return. His defeated expression transforms into one of sheer terror as he witnesses Crocodile's firm grasp on you, exerting pressure to push you forward.

"Change of plans, clown!" Crocodile declares, his voice laced with menace. "Y/n here has agreed to assist you with your debt."

"Really?" Buggy's face illuminates with a mixture of disbelief and hope. Before you can utter a word, Crocodile delivers a forceful shove, causing you to emit a startled shriek as you stumble and land directly at the feet of your captain.

A resounding laughter erupts from Crocodile, his amusement unbearable for you in front of Buggy. 

“I’m sorry, Captain, I couldn't get you a doctor. Crocodile stopped me…” 

Buggy remained silent, his body trembling with fear, uncertain of what would unfold next.

"I simply fail to understand why Y/n here would risk her own life for a worthless individual like you," Crocodile remarked, a twisted amusement evident in his voice. "But as I held her captive outside, I couldn't help but notice the spark in her eyes, her unwavering determination. It seems she truly loves you, clown. And now, I want to witness her express that love for you with all that she possesses."

Embarrassment floods over you, causing your cheeks to burn as you tremble, feeling utterly humiliated to have your emotions laid bare in front of your captain.

You can hear Buggy gulp, and you purposely avoid meeting his gaze as he cautiously asks, "Is that true? What do you mean by showing her love towards me, Crocodile...?"

Your gaze still lowered, you notice Crocodile has settled into a chair on the opposite side of the room, crossing his legs in a comfortable position.

“I want to see her fucking you. To say it bluntly. That beautiful body of hers on a loser like you sounds like the best entertainment I can get here on this island…!”

Crocodile's laughter fills the room, causing your heart to skip a beat upon hearing his words directed at you and Buggy. Desperately, you attempt to stifle the tears welling up inside, refusing to believe that this could be anything more than a cruel joke.

"In your dreams, you damn bastard!" Buggy's voice resonates with a sudden surge of courage. "You can humiliate me all you want, but my crew members are off-limits!"

You watch as he rises to his feet, placing himself between you and Crocodile, while you remain frozen on the floor, unable to move.

However, Crocodile proves to be quicker and stronger. Transforming into sand, he swiftly disappears from the chair he had been occupying, reappearing behind Buggy in an instant. With brutal force, he shoves your captain back onto the sofa, causing Buggy to emit a cry of pain. Unable to bear the sound any longer, you lift your gaze.

"I'll do it! It's fine! If you'll just stop tormenting my captain and erase all his debts, I'll do whatever you want!" you yell, desperation lacing your voice. Crocodile gazes at you, a smirk dancing upon his lips.

"That's it! That's the fire I want to see, little girl!"

Taking a deep sigh, you turn towards Buggy, who remains seated on the couch, clutching his injured arm in pain. 

"I'm sorry, Captain," you begin, your voice filled with remorse. "I wish I could have found a better moment to tell you this..."

Buggy's gaze shifts towards you, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. His eyes widen in surprise as you start to fumble at his pants, trying to open them. 

“We do not need to do this, Y/n…!”, he stammers, but you have already freed his cock from the red fabric of his clothes and you start gently rubbing it. It is so big and veiny, you can hardly fit it in your hand. As you feel the heat rising from your stomach to your head you realize that this was all you had ever dreamed of - you just had hoped it would have happened in a different time at a different place and without an audience watching.

Crocodile has sat down again on his chair, watching you carefully as you slowly start to pump Buggys throbbing dick. You try to avoid his gaze, feeling embarrassed but you can hear Buggy hissing, his hands instinctively move to stop you, but instead of exerting force, they gently guide you, encouraging you to proceed further.

“Y/n, please..!”, he groans and you are not sure if it is a plea to stop or continue further. You realize that you no longer want to entertain the thought of Crocodile and the humiliation he has subjected you to. At this moment, your sole focus is on Buggy, and you are willing to do whatever it takes to make Crocodile finally leave your captain alone.

Buggy emits a startled shriek as you suddenly take his cock in your mouth, gently starting to suck on it. 

“I knew it. Look at that little slut, she is a professional!” Crocodile chuckles at the other side of the room, still keeping his gaze fixated on you, seeming to fully enjoy the show. 

“Come on, you stupid clown. You just want to sit there and let her do the work? Give her some love too!”, he demands and as Buggy does not react, he turns into sand again, getting closer to the two of you, forcing Buggys gloved hand under your shirt, with a swift motion finding your breasts under the fabrics. Your captain is moaning and whining, he wants to shake off Crocodile's leading hand, but he can feel how you tremble under the touch and how your nipples get stiff and hard. You can feel his cock getting even harder in your mouth - he really does not want to do this, but his body is just not reacting as he had wished for. “Take off her clothes, come on!” Crocodile whispers and finally Buggy seems to be more cooperative. With shaking hands he grabs your shirt and lifts it up, leaving you down on your knees only with your pants and a bare chest. “Look at her beautiful tits. Have you ever seen lovely rosy skin like this? Don't you tell me you don't want to suck on this…?”, Crocodiles voice has become a whisper and you finally dare to look up. You can see the former warlord, standing behind the sofa, whispering into your captain's ear with a mischievous grin. Buggys face is distorted in desire and humiliation, you can feel his cock pulsating on your tongue as you meet his gaze. He is totally into you, he longs for you and you can feel that he is close to cum if you do not quickly pull back. 

Taking control of the situation, you release your grip on Buggy's cock and carefully rise to your feet. You rub your knees, easing the discomfort caused by your position on the floor.

Having both men looking at you now felt kind of arousing and embarrassing, you quickly took off your pants and underwear, giving your captain and Crocodile a good view on your whole naked body by doing so. 

"I see you're starting to enjoy yourself," Crocodile remarks with a sly grin, leisurely circling around the sofa to draw nearer to you.

Refusing to let him derail your resolve, you don't allow his comment to interrupt you. The agreement was forged out of love for Buggy, and you were determined in not allowing Crocodile to undermine your actions any further. 

Seeing your captain's longing gaze and him blushing under his clown makeup made you feel light-headed. He was a mess, spread out on the couch, his eyes scanning your body in anticipation. His vibrant blue hair scruffy, cascading in an unruly manner across the surface of the sofa. You gently took his hands, allowing him to explore your body, guiding them over your breasts and your hips. A shiver ran through your spine, finally feeling his touch made you feel weak and craving more. “Do you want to continue, Captain?!”, you ask carefully, trying to meet his gaze, his emerald eyes glowing in lust and excitement. He is unable to answer, overwhelmed by the situation, but his body shows clear signs of not having had enough yet. 

You again take the lead, carefully kneeling on to the couch, lowering your wet folds against the tip of Buggys cock. You observe a mixture of painful longing in his expression as he realizes your intentions. Leaning closer, you whisper in his ear, your voice barely audible.

"Trust me, Captain. I will make you feel really good."

You can suddenly feel bare hands on your hips and your bottom, Crocodile had positioned himself behind you two and was now laughing again, his cold fingers grabbing your flesh. 

"We don't have all day for this, and I want to see more of the clown's suffering!" Crocodile's  voice is filled with impatience and sadistic anticipation as he pushes your hips down, forcing Buggy into entering your wet pussy without any resistance. You moaned loudly over the sudden forceful penetration, but it feels so good, that you immediately start moving - feeling Buggys cock completely filling your insides. Your captain has thrown his head back, he is whimpering and groaning, his eyes rolling in his head. He cannot look at you, feeling so humiliated, but his hips start moving into you, he really wants to cum, he is craving for release. You gently put your arms around his shoulders, he is still fully dressed, but you want to make sure he feels you close to him, feeling the heat from your body. 

"Captain, look at me!" you whisper once more, your voice filled with persistence. Drawing nearer to his face, you come so close that your noses almost touch. Buggy exerts every ounce of his willpower to meet your gaze. Beads of sweat glisten on his forehead, his mouth hangs partially open, and his eyes appear feverish with a mixture of desire and confusion. You realize that he probably has never done this before in his life. You might be his first. 

You try to go a bit slower, so he can enjoy this longer. You again take his hands and guide them over your body. He is hesitant but as his fingers reach your hip, he suddenly grabs you forcefully, leaning forward to kiss you. His kiss is sloppy and messy, you realize that he is starting to lose control but also he starts to understand what this was all about. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. I always.. wanted to protect you..!”, he just moaned and this was the moment he couldn't hold back any longer. He started growling and pumping even harder into you, you could feel the tip of his cock touching your cervix. Saliva was dripping out of his mouth as he was so focused on reaching his climax, his movements became careless and out of sync with yours, he was just reaching for his own sweet relief. “You feel so fucking good, I wanna do this again and again to you…!” he moaned in your ear, his voice was hoarse, you had never heard him talking like this before. 

“Is it true what Crocodile said…? Do you… ah… love me?”, he continued mumbling in your ear, making you blush and feeling even more vulnerable than you already were. 

Buggy suddenly slapped your ass and you shrieked in surprise. You could feel his dick pulsating against your wet folds, you knew he was close to cum. Instead of answering, you decide to stay silent, because he was talking like he was out of his mind and his feverish eyes just proved that. You leaned forward kissing him again, gently nibbling on his lips, delicately letting your hands run down his clothed chest. This finally breaks him, Buggy throws his head back and hisses: “You damn vixen, fuck!” and in that instant you feel his hot juices flowing inside of you, filling you up to the brim. 

You are both panting, you can still feel him twitching inside of you, unable to move he just stays on the sofa, breathing heavily. Crocodiles laughter fills the room and you suddenly remember that he had been watching the whole time. 

“Well done, little girl. He didn't even last for 5 minutes but I guess your pussy took him out better than any of our beatings…!”

You quickly try to cover your breast in a sudden realization of being completely exposed and vulnerable. As you try to get off from Buggy you could hear the wet sounds from between your legs, making you blush again. 

“Sweetheart…!” As Buggy attempted to sit up, a faint moan escaped his lips. However, before you could fully comprehend the moment, Crocodile reappears behind you, his presence overshadowing you. The pungent aroma of his cigar enveloping you, while his voice takes on the same hoarse tone your captain had used earlier.

"Do you think this is the end of it?" Crocodile rasps, his words laced with a sinister undertone. "That was merely a warm-up. Now, allow me to demonstrate how a real man handles such matters."

#one piece #one piece buggy #buggy the clown x reader #buggytheclown #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy smut #one piece smut #sir crocodile

[chihoshisai]

A Healing Fire

Fandom : One piece / Pairing : You x Ace / Genre : angst, hurt comfort, mild smut / Other : this one shot is 8K words and imo too long to post here, so I'm only posting 1575 words as a preview. The full fic is up on ao3 (click for the link). Feel free to start reading here to see if it intrigues you or directly read it all on ao3. Enjoy !

Summary : Working as a geisha in Wano can be quite an ordeal. Especially when one of Orochi's men demands you get fired due to your mistakes, going as far as to injure you. Luckily, Ace stumbles upon you, and takes it upon himself to see that you're well throughout your recovery. Which causes you to become (quite badly) attached to him as you discover parts of yourself through rash actions.

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

“I’m begging you, please stop!” 

You shot a look of terror towards the glittering sword of the samurai standing before you. The other geishas, too frightened to speak up, recoiled in a corner of the room as they watched the silver blade in action. Your hands, raised to shield your face, felt an icy sensation followed by stinging and finally the feeling of warm liquid falling down your right arm. The shock of the impact made you lose balance and fall on the ground. You glanced up at the face of the furious man, tears blurring your vision. 

“You useless woman!” he bellowed, “That should teach you a lesson. Now get out and never come back!” He pointed his sword towards your face, glaring as he did so, giving anyone in your position no choice in the matter whatsoever.  

“But sir, you can’t possibly ask for one of our own to be fired?” A geisha intervened with a shaking voice.

Feeling a sense of superiority, he chuckled before replying, “I am one of Orochi’s samurai, that should be enough of a reason. I can decide who can and cannot stay in this pleasure house according to my taste.” He scanned the frightened geishas, who shrieked in response. “If anyone has any objection, please do come forward, I’ll ensure you meet the same fate as your friend over there.” His eyes returned to you, “If I ever see or hear that you still frequent this place or others, I’ll kill you.”

You looked over towards your friends and coworkers — who could no longer look you in the eyes as they shook their heads in accordance with the samurai’s wishes. Suppressing a sob, you grabbed your precious shamisen and fled the room. You ignored the few questionables eyes and inquiries, as you proceeded to the building’s exit.

The lively and bustling streets of the flower capital made you feel a sense of panic. Unless you found another brothel to work at – which you couldn’t – you would no longer be allowed to live here. In fact, without a place to stay you would go hungry, tired, weak and vulnerable. The anxiety of the current situation caused you to be lost in thoughts – not knowing where to go, you stood immobile and aghast on the street, as the blood from your wound stained your kimono. 

“Are you alright?”

You looked up from the pair of feet that appeared in your field of vision. A man wearing nothing but a pair of shorts, an orange hat, with black hair and freckles looked at you with worry. He was without a doubt a foreigner. How he got in and what he was doing there, you preferred not to know, as he probably was involved with Kaido, even though he wasn’t wearing the usual uniform.

“Yes, thank you,” you gave him a curt bow, avoiding all eye contact whilst hoping he would drop it and let you go despite your disturbed expression. 

“I can’t believe that when you’re bleeding quite heavily!”

Unwilling to get involved with a stranger, you kept your gaze to the ground, clutching your arm, as if to hide the wound. However, he, who refused to heed your body language, grabbed your uninjured arm and started leading the way. 

You looked up at him bewildered, “What are you—?”

“You should come and meet our ship’s doctor! He’s really amazing and will take care of your wound in no time!”

Ship doctor? He wasn’t one of Kaido’s men then? Your panic increased tenfold, as this man – seemingly unwilling to let go of you – strutted the streets of Wano while continuously praising his ship’s doctor’s skills, unaffected by the stares and whispers of the locals. 

“Who are you?” you puffed, at his quick walking pace.

“I’m Ace! A pirate.” He gave you a contagious smile, which you returned with a fearful one. Having your life spared, yet shamed, by a samurai, if word got out to Orochi that you were also involved with a foreign pirate who must’ve illegally entered the country, your head would roll for sure this time. 

Ace led you to Kuri where you saw a sight that caused a knot to your stomach. Being confronted to poverty for the first time, you couldn’t help but lower your gaze, too ashamed to face the locals. Your chest started to feel heavy at the thought that this could possibly be your life from now on. 

“We're here!” Ace gave you a glance before waving towards his crew. “Guys, I'm back!” 

Multiple pirates wearing clothes you never laid eyes on simultaneously welcomed Ace back. The doctor was called quickly, and before you knew it you found yourself sitting on an uncomfortable rock with bandages subsiding the pain, and ointment to apply in upcoming days. 

“So, tell us now how did a lady like you get injured?” Ace sat by your side, the other members of his crew looked at you in anticipation.

“Well,” You gave a quick glance towards your shamisen before telling the foreigners the full story. You were touched by their angry and upset faces, as they listened to your tale, feeling a sincere sense of compassion. A few of them muttered blasphemies about the Samurai and the Shogun's actions. Their fury somewhat felt personnal ; you never imagined strangers to care so much about someone such as yourself. 

“This is quite a horrible thing you've been through today,” Ace said at the end of your explanations. 

You gave him a polite smile, “Stuff like this is a daily occurrence in this country, I'm simply one of the unlucky ones.” You gave the crew a curt smile before avoiding their gaze. 

“This country is in a worse state than we thought, Ace,” said Deuce

“Yeah,” Ace stared darkly towards the ground. The atmosphere, now silent, took a sour, heavy turn, where the pirates did nothing but arbor anger and frustration on their faces. The mood did nothing but reinforce your personal lament of your situation. 

A cheery voice made itself heard despite the miasma surrounding everyone, as a child with purple hair and a green Kimono came into view. “Ace!” She waved towards the black haired man, “You're back!” 

“Tama!” Ace stood up and went to welcome the little child. They seemed surprisingly close, and as he interacted with her, you couldn't help but notice how kindhearted he's been all this time – to you, to her, and probably to this village too. Your wary opinion of him changed, as you stared at his broad back, defining the lines of his exposed muscles and getting lost in the smile he gave the young girl. If it wasn't for him, you would've been at a loss ; the citizens of the Flower Capital did nothing but pretend they didn't notice but Ace, he was the only one who saw you, and extended a helping hand – though forcefully. The thought that you hadn't thanked him yet or even paid back the favor started bothering you . 

You felt an intent gaze coming from one of the crew members, and quickly turned your head away, blushing in embarrassment. You hadn't realized that you were staring for a long time – and quite intensely too. 

Clearing your throat, you stood up, cheeks still red, “I should probably get going.”

“What?” Ace finally looked in your direction. 

Tama stared at you inquisitively, smiling, as she asked Ace who you were. He promptly answered her before returning his attention to you. “You're leaving?” 

You were secretly pleased to see him somewhat surprised by your sudden leave. “I'm not from this village, I don't think I should overstay my welcome.” Plus they probably don't want an additional mouth to feed, you thought. 

“Yeah, that makes sense, but where would you go?” Ace asked.

“Ringo,” you replied confidently – a safe place to hide from any prying eyes and Orochi's men along with the best way to put some distance between you and the samurai. 

“Ringo huh…” Ace said.

“You've no idea where it is don't you?” Deuce said.

You chuckled, before grabbing your shamisen. “Thank you for your help today, I’ll get going now before it gets dark.” You gave the crowd a curt bow before placing your shamisen on your back and quickly walking in the opposite direction of the village.

“Wait, will you be alright on your own?” Ace loudly added, Tama had kept his attention away from you again, as she explained where and what Ringo consisted of.

Once again, you gave a bow as an answer and proceeded to disappear in the greenlife of nature. This is for the best, you thought. Even if they were good company, they were still foreigners – getting attached to them wouldn’t be any good. You promptly made your way to Ringo, thankful that no additional harm came your way. You arrived at night, feeling the cold of the region making its way to your bones, making you regret your decision. With poor vision, you wandered around until you found an abandoned cabin, which you reluctantly decided to call your new home, and settled down for the day. Now settled, you thought back on today’s peripeties : the loss of a job, a wounded limb, and the warm help Ace extended your way. You felt a fuzzy feeling in your stomach at the thought of the latter and decided to reminisce no more, letting the chime of the wind serve as your lullaby. 

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Continue reading on ao3

#fluff #hoshi fic #one piece #one piece fanfiction #portgas d ace #ace fanfiction #portgas d ace fanfic #one piece x reader #one piece fic #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #ace x you #angst #hurt/comfort #fanfic #fanfiction

[phantom-playdough]

MK, Mei, Wukong, Red Son, & Macaque x GN!Reader: Stressed Doggo

Requested by: @nightraveler2

Request Concept: Reader is a human, but transforms into a dog. They cannot do it on command and end up panicking when they do transform. How would the characters above react? Let's find out.

Side note: I ended up adding a detail. I imagined that the reader ended up getting cursed by a non-specified artifact and that is how they transform into a dog, as well as it takes a lot of focus to transform back into a human.

Side note #2: You can pick the dog breed you take the form of, I left it ambiguous.

Wukong:

I feel like he likely be outside of his hut picking peaches when he suddenly hears a loud shriek from inside. His first thought was that a demon had somehow come onto his island and was hurting you. So, with him boiling at the thought, he zoomed into his house. But he paused in shock when he saw his S/O running around in an absolute FRENZY... in the form of a dog. But Wukong had to push his own shock aside to help his S/O try and calm down.

So, he would slowly approach them, picking them up and holding them in his arms. At first, Y/n struggled in his grip, but then they realized it was just Wukong and started to relax in his hold. But they were still scared of course and were beginning to hyperventilate. Wukong hushed and shushed, speaking soft, reassuring words in their now more sensitive but soft ears.

Eventually, Y/n's breathing slowed down and their anxiety calmed down. Wukong took that time to ask, "Y/n, how did you turn into a dog?"

"I don't really know. I was just putting some stuff aside for you to throw out like you asked and I touched some weird looking artifact. Next thing I knew, it started glowing and I transformed into a dog."

Wukong paused as the gears in his head turned, before snapping into place. "Ohhhh, I know which one you're talking about. Welp! Luckily, it's pretty easy to fix. You just have to put a little focus into imagining your normal form and before you know it, you'll transform back!"

"I don't know..."

"Just trust me! C'mon, I know you can do it, Y/n!"

Y/n sighed and took in a deep breath. They then cleared their mind and focused on their human form. Suddenly, a flash of white covered their vision and they slowly opened their eyes to see their hands instead of paws.

They exhaled a breath they didn't know they were holding and hugged Wukong, still sitting sideways in his lap. Wukong laughed a little and wrapped an arm around their waist, kissing the top of their head.

Macaque:

Macaque and Y/n were at the marketplace, intent on spending the day to have fun window-shopping together. But while they were walking around, an odd-looking artifact caught Y/n's eyes. So, they paused their steps to take a closer look at it.

By the time Macaque realized Y/n was no longer by his side and turned around, he saw too late that they had picked up the artifact to hold in one of their hands.

"Y/n! Don't touch that!"

But it was too late, like I said. And the artifact glowed a bright green and by the time Macaque blinked once, Y/n was a dog. They immediately came to the same horrific conclusion and began to panic.

Macaque ran over, picking Y/n up and summoned a portal back to the dojo. Once the pair were back at the dojo, Macaque sat down and held Y/n in his arms.

"It's okay, Y/n. It's okay. Just breathe for me. Just breathe." Macaque said in a soothing voice. He inhaled a deep breath, Y/n following his example and taking a deep breath in as best as they could. After a minute or two of this, Y/n managed to calm down. But they started whining, making Macaque chuckle just a tad bit.

"Shh, shh, shh. Just focus on my voice. Clear your mind, imagine your face. Imagine your human form. Focus on that image. Okay?"

Y/n did as instructed and with a flash of light, they had transformed back into their human form.

After breathing a sigh of relief, they looked at Macaque, a curious expression on their face. "How did you know what to do for me to transform back?"

Macaque looked off to the side sheepishly. "I... may or may not have...experience with those kind of artifacts..."

Y/n paused for a moment. But they busted out into a small fit of laughter. "You ought to tell me that story sometime, Mac."

Macaque rolled his eyes with a poorly hidden smirk. "I don't think so."

"...Thanks."

Red Son:

Red Son had just recently acquired an artifact for a scheme or something for his father. Y/n wasn't sure what the scheme was, but they had to admit the artifact was quite beautiful. But, because it looked so stunning, they just couldn't resist touching it with a finger.

Within no more than a moment, a bright flash of light blinded them and they suddenly were a dog.

"RED!!!!" Y/n screamed. Red Son immediately busted into the lab and immediately froze to see Y/n in the form of a dog.

"Y/n, you peasant!! Why did you touch that artifact!?!" Red Son yelled, but immediately calmed down when he saw Y/n run around in circles because they were in a point of complete panic.

He took a breath and approached his table, grabbing a small screwdriver-looking device. He then walked over to Y/n and pressed the button on the device, making Y/n freeze and start glowing bright yellow. They shut their eyes, bracing themselves for God knows what would happen next.

But when they opened their eyes, Y/n was relieved to see their hands again. Y/n smiled, looking at Red Son before kissing his cheek.

"You're staying out of my lab for a while, you peasant."

MK:

Monkey King had sent MK out to get an artifact for him. MK wasn't really told what Monkey King needed this thing for, but he assumed it was for some scheme or something. Who knew with him, though?

So, Y/n and MK went out on a mission to find the artifact. Luckily, they got it without much issue. (Aside from Y/n almost falling off a cliff.) But while the pair were on their way back to Pigsy's Noodles, Y/n was marveling the artifact when they saw a gemstone set in the middle of the base. Y/n couldn't take their eyes off of it as much as they tried to focus on the street ahead of them.

But, Y/n finally cracked and pressed a single finger against the gemstone, caressing it softly. Suddenly, a blinding light was left piercing through the otherwise dark night sky. MK shielded their eyes from the light, waiting for it to fade. When it finally did, MK opened his eyes to see Y/n much shorter...and hairier than normal.

"Hey, MK...? How come you're suddenly so much taller now?" MK couldn't fight the cringe on his face if they tried. But they didn't have aa chance to explain the fact that their significant other was now a DOG because Y/n caught a reflection of themself in a trashcan.

Right on cue, they shrieked and began running around in circles from blind panic. MK thought quickly and picked Y/n up, before summoning his staff to launch himself over to Pigsy's Noodles. MK all but busted into the establishment to see Tang and Pigsy sitting at one of the booths.

"MK, where did ya get a dog? We aren't--"

"Mr.Tang! Y/n got transformed into a dog by some weird artifact!" MK sped over to Tang and shoved a hyperventilating Y/n Dog Edition into his face.

Tang immediately pulled out a book (Where was he keeping a book?!) and flipped through the pages. Meanwhile, MK was rocking Y/n back and forth in their arms in an attempt to console them. Finally, Tang landed on one page and explained the artifact cursed those who touched the gemstone on it with becoming a random animal.

Tang then explained that the fix was relatively simple. MK would just have to calm Y/n down and help them visualize their human form. MK decided to try just that. Calming them down was relatively easy because there was an explanation as to what was happening. But helping them visualize themselves was a bit more tricky for some reason.

So, MK decided to try a different approach. So, he grabbed his art supplies and began drawing at a neck-breaking pace. They ignored the confused look on Y/n's furry face. Finally, MK turned the page around and showed Y/n a drawing of their human form. They stared at the drawing for a moment or two, before they finally transformed back with another blinding flash of light.

Y/n slowly opened their eyes to only be crushed by MK in a hug.

"Thank you, Xiaotian. I owe you one."

Mei:

Mei set her fork down, looking across the table at her loving S/O eating their food. Y/n caught Mei's eye and swallowed their bite. "What? Do I have something stuck on my face?"

Mei brought a hand to her chin, thinking for a moment. "Yeah, you do. You have SEXY written all over your face!!"

Y/n laughed, not expecting that answer. Mei was the type to stare and not be ashamed for doing so. Not that Y/n minded.

"I actually have something for ya, Y/n." Mei said, pulling a gift bag out of seemingly nowhere.

"Aww! And here I thought we weren't going to get each other gifts."

"You deserve to be splurged! Now open it up, already!" Mei had such a strong amount of cheer that it was almost impossible to not be cheerful when around her.

Y/n peeked into the bag, pulling out a super shiny artifact. "Wow, Mei...where did you get this?! It wasn't too expensive, right?"

"Pssh! NOTHING is too expensive for you. Buuuuut, I found it while I was on an adventure with MK." Mei then immediately pulled her phone out and fired up her livestream. She zoomed around the other side of the table and showed the artifact and Y/n.

"THIS is yet another good look at the beautiful light in front of me. The artifact is nice too!"

"Oh, my God Mei!" Y/n shrieked with a cackle.

But suddenly, the artifact started glowing brightly. Y/n shieled their eyes with an arm while Mei dropped her phone to cover her eyes.

Once the light faded away into nothing, Mei opened her eyes to see a dog.

"M-Mei, why are you so tall?" The dog asked. It was only then that Mei realized that Y/n had turned into a dog.

"HOW DID YOU TURN INTO A DOG!?!?"

"I'M A DOG!?"

Mei's phone dinging at a near constant rate brought them out of her moment of panic.

'Mei, tell them to visualize their human form. That artifact probably was cursed and that can fix it.'

Mei immediately took Y/n into her arms and began rocking them back and forth. They wiggled around at first, but Mei shushed them and whispered, "Just think of your human form. You should transform back if you can picture it."

Y/n did as they were told and before they knew it, another bright light covered the area.

Once the light faded once more, Y/n looked down at their body to luckily see no fur or fluffy dog tail.

Y/n breathed out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Mei."

"No problem, babe."

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