#you make highlight and shadow choices that I would never think to make and I’m so jealous of that!!!

[fictionalslvr]

SYNOPSIS: "After weeks of going to the gym with Leon, it became a casual and routined thing that both enjoyed. Until he realizes something in you changed. You made a nipple piercing."

PAIRING: Roommate¡Leon x F¡Reader

WORD COUNT: 1.010k

WARNINGS: Pervert¡Leon and a reader who teases him all the time. Suggestive, delusional Leon. Nipple piercing, description of female anatomy, ect.

NOTES: I've been on a crative block for a long time now, so i decided to try something short and this came out.

Highly inspired by this bot right here, please check it out🫶

Leon is a great roommate, you two are bound to share a dorm in the university because it’s no one’s choice. At first, you thought he was an introvert guy — Which is not fully wrong — But it took him a long time to finally open up with you, and when he did, you would wish he’d not. He’s very talkative and wanted you to be by his side once he got comfortable with you. To spend more time together outside your shared dorm, he invited you to go to the gym with him, and you (forcely) accepted.

After weeks of going to the gym with Leon, it became a casual and routined thing that both enjoyed. Until he realizes something in you changed. You were doing lift-ups on the bench press, already sweating after a few lifts of the heavy weight bar in your hands, cursing under your lips and holding a breath in between your teeths. Leon was helping you out, mumbling some encouraging praises, when his eyes slid down for a brief moment and he could catch a glimpse of something new. Underneath your tight tank top, there was a shadow of something in your chest, directly, on your nipples. He froze in place, his voice struggling to leave and the praises slowly faded, Leon could not believe what he was seeing, you made a piercing…on your nipples.

—”There’s something wrong?” You noticed the absence of the praises, and the lack made you think something was wrong. Leon was praising to God you would keep your eyes closed to count so he could try to look more at your new piercing under the poorly dim lighted gym, that happily, has only them two at the moment.

—”What— No…nothing wrong.” He couldn’t mention the piercing, or you’ll start to think he was looking at your breasts. Maybe he was, but he didn’t want you to know. Stopping in the middle of your lift-ups, you opened your eyes to see a weird acting Leon, his eyes always rushing away from yours. —”You’re…taking a break?”

Leon’s hands were sweating, he was scratching the back of his head, trying to make the thoughts of your breasts fading away, and it didn’t help a tiny bit. You drag your body up, putting the bar on the place to sit and look at him. You never saw Leon’s voice failing that much.

—”I’m actually thirsty.” You took your water bottle next to you, giving it a good gulp to refresh your body. The water slowly made its way to your lips, occasionally sliding down from the corners of your lips, a few drops were going down your neck and making way to your chest without you even noticing.

Leon watched, astonished. The single water droplet slipping in between your cleavage, his eyes were wide open like a deer on the highlights, he couldn’t miss this scene you were putting on. He felt like a pervert, he wanted to not look and be respectful, but his eyes were glued on the way your neck bobbed as you gulped down the cold liquid down your throat, his mind running wild in agonizing thought. God, how he wanted to touch your breasts, to grope them, lick them and if he was feeling bold enough, he would brush the tip of his teeths on your pierced nipple buds, slowly teasing you with his other hand taking care of your other boob, Leon would be the luckiest man alive if he could only see them. He never saw you like this, never so sexual nor sensual before, you were only a friend and next…he’s staring at your boobs with no shame, and he think that is not his fault at all, he feels horrible, yes, but you’re so damn hot that he can’t contain his body from desiring yours.

Leon knows he shouldn’t be staring, not when he can feel his cock twitching with the view, and he was progressively getting more and more nervous around you. Either if he wants to stop or not, he can’t. His mind is traveling at any kind of sick and twisted thought there is to have. He could kill to feel your skin under his fingertips, to see how you would react to his touches and soft whispered nothings, the praises you deserve to hear just from being born this beautifully. By this time, he was considering to be a romanticism painter, so that he could have an excuse to paint you, to eternize you on a canva, who would slowly gain his life based on your body, he would love to treat you like his muse, to make you his voluptuous and vulgar painting, to turn you into something eternal only to express this tempestuous strike of desire you’ve sent him with only a glimpse of what’s underneath the cloth. His agitated state didn’t passed unknown by you, you could sense a pair of baby blue eyes piercing your soul, the lack of any emotions showing that is not visible, but his mind must’ve been running free in any kind of thought, you could see from your peered eyes while you were still taking your water, it would be an understatement to say that you knew what you were causing to him, not only knowing but doing everything purposely to try to impress your hot roommate. Leon cleared his throat, not capable of looking at anything other than your cleavage, the way your plump boobs were almost jumping out of your tank top, he could see a tint of the silver piercing popping out from your bra and this was already driving him insane enough.

—”Take a picture, it will last longer, you know?” Your sweet voice ringed on his mind, taking him out of his kind of trance.

—”What…what!?”

—”If you want to see my piercing, I can show you.”

You never saw a man turn so red as Leon turned now, his eyes showing his ardor devotion as he slowly nodded his head and whispered a faint “can I…?”

#fanfic #fictionalslvr #smut #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon x fem reader #leon x reader #leon x you #leon kennedy smut #leon smut #re4 leon #leon fanfic

[sky-kiss]

Hi there, it's me, your girl, knocking on your door and asking for a tiny fic if you take to this prompt 😊

Strip poker. Lmao no. But maybe. It'd just be Tav getting naked as they lose horribly to him.

Okay actual prompt, sorry. I love possessive Raphael, it shivers me timbers.

What if after he successfully gets the Crown with Tav's help. And Tav thinks they're done forever, and is sad about it during their hurrah meal (THAT HE PROMISED US BUT WE DIDNT GET IN GAME?), but Raphael is very much not done with Tav yet. But plays them along a little, delighting in how attached they seem to be to him.

But also, feel free to do the strip poker adjacent if that appeals more. 😉 Thank you my dear!

________

A/N: I’m going to be super honest, babe. I almost did the strip poker prompt. 

________

“This, my dear, to a most successful partnership.” Raphael held up his glass, a beautiful crystal flute that seemed to catch the firelight; held it. Tav didn’t want to guess how rare it was, or how much it cost. Raphael seemed inclined to excess; the meal he’d promised so many moons prior reflected those beliefs. The first wine he’d served was centuries old; the second was even older. The gown he’d left provided, perfectly tailored, was set with enough jewels to sustain a small kingdom. 

Tav smiled at his toast but could not find it in herself to respond. As fine as the night had been, it held a note of finality that sat heavy on her heart. It was the bow on his victory and his crown. After this, they’d go their separate ways. 

It was objectively the correct course of action. Dealing with a devil of any sort was ill-advised; dealing with one so intimately bordered on suicide. 

Raphael smirked at her, cocking his head to the side. The firelight caught him in profile, sharpening already fine features, casting his eyes in deeper shadows. He leaned forward. “My, has the cat finally caught your tongue? Here? At the end of all things?” 

“Not in the least. Only tired.” 

“I could send you back…” 

“No!” The answer was far too quick. The devil arched a brow, smiling with teeth. He folded his hands in front of him, long fingers interlaced. Tav tried not to fixate on them, or the way his thumb shifted, stroking some invisible line across his wrist. “No, that isn’t necessary. It’s only…I supposed a part of me didn’t expect things to end so soon.”

“But it’s been months, my sweet. Are you not tired of the road? The violence?” Lower, a note of teasing crept into his voice. “My company?” Tav huffed. The adventurer sipped her wine to stop her immediate reply. The one the devil undoubtedly wanted. His eyes, bright as hellfire, glowed. “It should grieve me to leave you wanting, little mouse. You need only say that word and…” he snapped his fingers. The candles leaped with new liveliness before fading to a more intimate level. “We might find some new way to occupy our time.” 

“You have hells to conquer.” 

“And what is a conquest without dear friends?” He chuckled, and Tav fought the urge to shiver. The fireplace was far too large for the banquet hall. Avernus was naturally hot. The air in her lungs felt stagnant and overheated. “Admit it. You're curious. What will Raphael accomplish?” 

“I don’t doubt you if that’s what you’re implying.” 

“Never. I would not dream of slandering my talents or your good sense, pet.” He extended his hand, palm up. “But I would never force my suit. You are, as ever, entirely free to make your own choices.”

Tav pursed her lips. The little alarm in the back of her head was screaming. Run, it said, get far from here and far from him. She’d never been good at listening to those notes of reason. Raphael must have seen it too. The devil smirked, the right corner of his lips curling back to highlight the point of his fangs. “I wouldn’t…see us part ways. Not yet.” 

“Mmm. And why not? Indulge this…inquiring mind.” 

 She sighed, shrugging. “Because I’m…fond of you, devil.” 

“Good girl, honesty is always the best policy.” Gods, but he looked insufferably pleased with himself. Raphael leaned back, resting his chin in his palm. He drummed his fingers against his cheek. “It would be dangerous for you to stay, of course, and I could never endanger one so dear to me. Unless…” he let the sentence hang between them, full of potential and thoroughly premeditated. Tav could feel the noose tightening, the hooks he’d set in her flesh from their first meeting tugging at her soul. “A patron makes all the difference in the hells. Were you to swear yourself to me, you might remain.” 

She laughed. “Is that all? Just put myself in your hands?” 

“My hands, my lap, my bed.” His smirk took on a particularly feline quality. “Don’t look so surprised, pet. I kept the Emperor out of that lovely head. Did you think I hadn’t seen what was in it?” 

He made a vague gesture with his left hand, and those lurid imaginings came forward. The dreams that had chased Tav into an uneasy sleep for months: his touch smoothing over her hips. His mouth on her breasts. Touching, and teasing, and…

“Enough.” She swallowed, head spinning. “You’ve made your point.”

“Swear you are mine, devote yourself to me, and I will give all your imaginings form. What is one mortal life compared to pleasure eternal?” He held out his hand again. 

And Tav took it. 

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #my fic #asks #tav is drinking idiot juice bless their heart

[fandom-monium]

Sweet Poison - Part 3

Summary: In which you don't paint in color and Zagreus asks why? “Contrary to popular belief, Elysium don’t take kindly to beings like me.”

WC: 1k

TW: Zagreus (Hades Video game) x Succubus!Reader, GN!Reader, a succubus AND an artist bc sex is just work and food, au where in game Zag commissions the paintings using gems, what if boons actually affected Zagreus, slow build, strangers to friends to lovers trope, sex work, fluff, fluff and humor, mutual pining, idiots in love, mild angst, pheromones, technically it’s succubi magic aura, Zagreus is at least 6 ft convince me otherwise, eventual smut

—

“So… why?”

“Hm?”

“Why black and white? Why not in color?” Without looking up, Zagreus thumbs through one of your old sketchbooks, the light framing his profile in a soft green. Pieces of parchment fall out and he fumbles. You shake your head with a smile, facing your easel once again.

You hate to admit it, but you think you made the right choice welcoming Zagreus into your life. His visits—brief as they are—quickly become a highlight of your day. He’s not around all the time, but when he does happen to stop by, you find the rest of the day to go by quicker, easier. Even work feels less exhausting.

It’s been a long time since you had a friend. Especially someone as easy to talk to as Zagreus. It’s… nice. He’s nice.

To think not too long ago, you tried to bring him to his knees and suck the soul out of him. You’re glad you didn’t. Mostly.

A small part of you would still love to see him on his knees, but you banish the thought as quickly as it came.

Touching Zagreus with even an ounce of your normal power feels sacrilegious. Not that it affected him before, which you still don’t understand. Still, you dampen your aura as a precaution, letting out enough so as not to strain yourself. For some reason it felt wrong to touch him in that way. He’s too good. Pure.

Ironic, considering the amount of times he’s entered your domain splattered in blood. And yet somehow, he still manages to bring you gifts between runs.

You’ve never known someone to be in possession of so much nectar. And he just hands it out freely? The demonic, selfish part of you can’t understand why. Perhaps he’s bored of the stuff. Common in his corner of the Underworld. The thought of this stuff just laying around makes you chuckle. In all seriousness, where he gets it, you suspect he’s got a supplier of some sort, probably in the deepest pits of Taratarus. The Tartarian and Asphodelish marketplaces sure don’t.

They don’t have a lot of things.

“It’s not that I can’t color. I just don’t have any,” You shrug, continuing to sharpen and blend shadows where you see fit. “Trust me. I’ve visited every market in Tartarus and Asphodel; art materials aren’t exactly high in demand.”

Zagreus looks up from your sketchbook, parchment sheets filled to the brim with charcoal and lead. “And Elysium? There’s a grand market by the arena, you know.” He’s not trying to be condescending—you know—but a dull ache forms at the back of your skull, a sour squirm rising in your chest at his ignorance. His naivety.

“And you truly believe they’d serve me?” You scoff.

“Why not?”

You raise an eyebrow, and he meets your gaze, unwavering, like he can’t see the horns, wings, and tail. He is so used to your presence, they no longer register.

That makes you no less a demon. A succubus.

You shake your head, “Contrary to popular belief, Elysium don’t take kindly to beings like me.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

You give him a tightlipped smile as his brow furrows, visibly crestfallen. “Don’t worry your pretty, little head, Zagreus. It is what it is.” Turning back to the canvas, you swirl your brush and mix different gray tones on your palette. Oh, why is getting the right shade so difficult?

Sensing the shift in your mood, Zagreus glances down, flipping through your old sketches, all black and white and shades of gray. “But if you had the materials, would you? Draw and paint in color?”

You don’t even have to think, your eyes focused on a particular corner of the painting. “Yes.”

A moment later, stone rumbles and you look up in time to see his footprints cool off. The sketchbook has returned to its rightful place, wedged between the leather-bound novels and trinkets in your bookcase.

Two runs later, Zagreus barges in, gasping for breath like he raced over as soon as he could. There’s burns on his arms, blood sprayed across his face, a gaping wound on his thigh as if he’d been stabbed, but none of that matters—not to him at least—as he holds out a box held with twine to you, his teeth bared in an eager smile.

And when he slaps down a handful of colorful gems for a commission, your cheeks grow sore, unable to stop smiling back.

—

AN: Succubi!Reader tried to buy colored paint once and it unfortunately did not turn out as they hoped 😔 Good thing Zagreus got the hook up 😌🫰✨️

#zagreus x reader #zagreus (hades video game) x reader #zagreus & reader #zagreus (hades video game) & reader #hades supergiant #hades video game

[choicesficwriterscreations]

September 2023 WOTM: lilyoffandoms

Each month CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers, and this month’s writer of the month is @lilyoffandoms. We hope you will enjoy learning more about them and their work below! The writer is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page.

This month's Writer of the Month was selected a little differently than normal. We announced that we would be selecting the WOTM from the participants in last month's Writer Appreciation Event. But the eleven writers involved all agreed the honor belonged to Lily. Lily has been a staple in the Choices community for so long, and they continuously go out of their way to support creators and spread positivity while continuing to inspire and create themselves. We couldn't think of anyone better suited for the honor, so please join us in congratulating Lily... September's Writer of the Month!

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog Name: lilyoffandoms Blog Masterlist

How do you want to be known on Tumblr? Lily is fine (they/them preferred)

1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played? 

Best guess would be back in January of 2018. It was a joke at first since a friend saw one of their god-awful ads and said we should both try it. Next thing you know, we were both arguing over which books were better and regretting our decision to start. Though their opinions on what constitutes good books are almost as bad as the Choices ad that got us to jokingly play (and I say this most lovingly because they are awesome and I love them). I started with Most Wanted, and my friend started with The Freshman. 

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

Oh gods! I joined back in March 2019. I know I’m a Tumblr baby by most everyone’s standards, but that feels like a really long time. I joined when Open Heart book one was released. I had lurked, reading fanfics, for a few months before biting the bullet and creating a blog and actually posting. Only joined because I was taking my editor’s advice and writing something entirely outside my norm to break a particularly bad case of writer’s block. Thought I might as well share those silly things if I was taking the time to write them. Maybe someone would enjoy them. Never did plan on sticking around, but found so many lovely people that I’ve come to call friends.

3- How did you pick your blog name? 

It was lilyofchoices. My name + Choices because I am super creative like that with those sorts of naming things 😅 I changed it to lilyoffandoms when I left the Choices fandom for a bit. I’ve thought about changing it more times than I can count but I can’t bring myself to actually follow through on it. How do y’all’s change your blog name with each new book release? You are a crazy different breed of tumblr and you fascinate me.

4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!  

I deleted the first one years ago. It was my first drabble. Currently, as it stands, the first thing in my archive is this post about Desire and Decorum, and it still makes me giggle.

5- How long have you been writing fanfiction?

I’ve only been writing fanfic since I joined Tumblr. I never really tried writing fanfic before that. Some nonfiction personal things before that but never anything like this world. It's been an adventure, to say the least haha

6- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to write about?

My favorite book is probably Blades of Light and Shadow, book one, but there are plenty that are really close behind. This is also the book I’d say I enjoy writing for the most because it is my favorite book, contains my favorite LI, and has one of my favorite OCs (Maiele) in it.

Though recently, I’ve been writing more for Crimes of Passion because it's more of a challenge for me. It's a different vibe between the MC and the LI and it's one I don’t often explore so I’m here for that right now. But I have a sneaky suspicion once Blades 2 drops I’ll be back on my bullshit with that again.

7- Share the first fanfic you wrote with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were writing it today?

I don’t think it exists on this site anymore. Maybe in someone’s reblog? I still have it in my files. It was an Ethan x MC drabble featuring my MC, Merida. I still like it. I’d not change it cuz I’m a firm believer in writing it and don’t look back haha.

This is it:

He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to form in his eyes. There it was. He had told her. Dr. Banerji was dying and Ethan was at a loss as to what was ailing his mentor and friend. Ethan stared at the young woman in front of him and then to the floor. He cleared his throat and made a small motion to turn back into Naveen’s room but froze instantly the moment he noticed her take a step towards him.

She threw her arms around him and hugged him, wishing to take away all of his pain, all of his loneliness. Silently willing him to understand that she cared for him. Cared deeply for him and much more than she should. “Ethan. I’m so sorry,” she whispered, one hand stroked through his hair while the other grasped his neck and slowly bent his head toward her shoulders as she raised herself to her tiptoes to meet him halfway.

He tensed upon feeling her arms around him. Arms, he thought to himself, that he had imagined holding him for a number of weeks now. Ever since that night spent sitting up with her watching little baby Ethan. “Merida,” he sighed as he gradually relaxed into the embrace.

She didn’t let up on the hug, squeezing him to her just a bit more tightly. God, she had wanted to comfort him when Dolores died but she didn’t know how he would respond. Now, he was facing the possibility of another friend dying and she couldn’t help herself.

He responded to the increased pressure of her hug and tightened his own hold upon her. Finding himself tracing circles up her spine and imagining what it would feel like to move his hands to tease along the skin of her back where her pants met her shirt.

Her breath caught when she felt his hands move lower. No longer making gentle movements along her spine but increasing their pressure upon her body, nearly massaging their way lower. She brought one of her own hands around to his chest, lightly bunching his white coat in her fist to try and pull him closer to her.

A loud crash echoed down the hall. “Shit!” a construction worker cursed. The two doctors jumped back from each other both staring into each other’s eyes seeming to question if they had both felt the same in the other’s arms. She blushed slightly. “I should see to my other patients. Dr. Banerji’s condition stays between us. Understand, Rookie?” he stated, his eyes narrowing. She nodded and he turned and marched down the hall.

8- What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?

I love asking this question of others but don’t like it asked of me. I’m so bad at self-rep and advertising my wares 😂 But if I had to pick one, I’d say this one. It was so far outside my comfort zone when it came to writing that I almost abandoned it two paragraphs in. But I’m a stubborn person, and I refused to let it beat me. Plus, I had been wanting to write a noir fic for this book since it was released. Furthermore, I adore Hayden’s work too much not to gift a little something back for all the art he shares with us, so I knew I just had to make it work.

9- Do you have a fic that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to be but found could use a little more love?

I didn’t expect last year’s Luck of the Draw fic to garner much love. Attention? Maybe. But not love and definitely not the response I got. I really enjoyed writing that one. 

10- If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why? 

Fluff. I’m a sucker for happy-ever-afters and an endless hopeless romantic. Give me the fluff. All the fluff. 

I pull a lot of what I toss into my silly drabbles from real life. Always been a believer in writing, most often what you know, and sprinkle that all with a dash of the stuff you don’t as a treat. And my life is pretty fluffy thanks to my incredible partner. 

However, I do so adore angst I’m just not able to write it often because it hurts more to write. But I’ll always always read it. That pain is *chef’s kisses*

11- Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

Maiele, my Blades MC, is most definitely me coded. His whole personality, his choice of partner when it comes to personality, his constant flirting with said partner, his sense of humor, his lack of a filter most times, it’s all pretty much me. Gabriel, my CoP MC, is me when it comes to romantic gestures and Valentine’s Day. I may be a romantic, but I get weird when it’s aimed at me 😂 

12- What element of writing do you struggle with most?

Editing. I refuse to do it. I hate it with the burning light of a thousand suns. Those of you that manage to edit your fics have all my admiration. I honestly don’t know how y’all do it. Doesn’t it just bore you to no end? 

13- Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

I have more drafts than I care to admit. I would like to complete a series I started long ago for Ethan x Merida, but I don’t know if I’ll ever do that. I’d settle for finishing one of my drafts 😅

14- If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to read your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you recommend they read first? 

Nope, haha, I’d not be able to do that. If I were that brave, I’d recommend this one maybe. I do so love Flynn. Or this one, mostly because I do so love the idea of Gabriel just pouting on the couch.

15 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing?

Not really. I mean all of em probably. I read a lot of books in a lot of genres. Mostly I use my drabbles as morning warm ups for my day job. 

There are definitely fanfic writers I admire around here that encourage me to share my silly things everyday. Especially all those queer writers out there that have a rather thankless existence sometimes around here but keep sharing their stories! They are all my heroes!!

16- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series? 

Any and all of my Maiele and Tyril stories. I just love them sooooo much!!

17- Do you write original fiction? 

Yes, but until recently, I wrote mostly nonfiction.

I do have a fic I began a few years back when I was still teaching. I had a student who hated their writing class, so I promised to write a short story alongside them and read it to the class like all the students had to if they gave it an honest go. 

They did and so I did too, and I was asked the following year to do it again by more students and so I continued the same story. I’ve since continued that same fic, and maybe someday I’ll actually go looking to publish it. 

18 -  What other hobbies do you have?

I love the outdoors. Hiking, spelunking, kayaking, gardening, camping, anything and everything outdoors. My other favorite hobby, which I've done for years and years, is fencing. I still am part of a club and teach a few levels. 

19 - What’s your favorite emoji? 

😅 because it’s legit my state of existence at this point in life. 

20: BONUS - tell us anything you’d like (if you want to).

I want to send a special shout-out to all the absolutely lovely participants of August’s writer appreciation event I hosted. I still cannot believe y’all did this for me. 😘 These are each of my favorite fics you’ve written. Thank you for making our fandom a little brighter each and every day!

@aallotarenunelma Bathed in Sunlight @coffeeheartaddict2 Moths to a Flame @karahalloway A Leviathan Surprise @jerzwriter A Mother's Journal @ladylamrian Ma Cherie @mydemonsdrivealimo Run, Run @peonyblossom We're Gonna Get Married @petiteboheme Familia @storyofmychoices Passing Shower @tessa-liam All is Fair in Love and War @trappedinfanfiction What's In a Name? Lily's Top Three Commissions can be found here:

Crimes of Passion by @javsarts

A Year of Kisses by various artists: @lethendralis-paints @cashweasel @kundool @deheerkonijn @javsarts @weetlebeetle @kollapsar @mooreaux @rosefuckinggenius @/ArtbyAinna (IG) @littlestpersimmon @callmebeem

Trystan x Noel by @rosefuckinggenius

#cfwc writer of the month #playchoices #choices the stories you play #lilyoffandoms #choices fic writers creations #choices fanfiction #choices fanart

[deejadabbles]

Ollo!

I COMETH WITH A SMUTTY ASK PROMPT!

❛ i'm waiting for your permission to let me have my way with you. ❜

With!!!

Whisper!

or any oc of your choice if they're easier 👀

😘💜💜💜

OMG I am so excited that you asked for him!!! I can't tell you how happy this makes me my friend, thank you!! 😭I hope this satisfies you and that it makes you like Whisper even more because I loved exploring him with this prompt. I changed the wording of the prompt ever so slightly to fit his cadence better but it's still highlighted

You can find out more about Whisper here and here if you're interested <3

Clone OC Whisper x reader Rating: Mature, toeing the line of Explicit Word Count: 987 (me? Writing something under 1k?? I can't believe it myself) Warnings: Sexual themes, biting/marking, slight restraint (hands being pinned down), reader is technically GN but no lube is mentioned so plz keep that in mind. Masterlist /// Tag List Sign Up  /// AO3

He hadn’t said a word since he came home to you, simply wrapped you in his arms and lost himself in your kiss.

That wasn’t unusual for Whisper, especially after a rough campaign. Silently falling into your embrace was his favorite welcome home. A shuddering breath left him when you traced his lip with your tongue and suddenly you were falling back on your bed. 

He was on you instantly, lips finding your neck and hands gripping your thighs. With a gasp of your own, your fingers found their way to his long curls, desperate to pull him closer as he explored your neck. His name was on your breath as you breathed out a moan and that’s when you felt the pleasant flash of his teeth sinking into your skin.

It took you by surprise, which showed as you cried out in pleasure and tightened your grip in his hair. His tongue came out to soothe the bite instantly, tracing it delicately, a silent apology. 

That also wasn’t unusual for your dear trooper, for him to pull back the moment his hands and mouth aired on the rough side. He always touched you as if you were the most precious thing he would ever hold, as if you would crumble under the sheer weight of his need for you.

“I don’t think you know what you do to me,” came his quiet, smoky timbre. 

Maker, his voice always did things to you. Always so purposeful, almost airy despite its deep tone, like a cloud in a dark stormy sky. In answer, you pulled him closer and pressed your lips to his ear.

“Show me,” was your whimpered reply, “want you to show me what I do to you, Whisper.”

Beside your head, you felt his fist dig into the pillow and he pressed his face deeper into your neck, his other hand sliding to your hip. He drew in another breath this time through clenched teeth, as if they were biting down on the last thread of his resolve.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for, my love,” he hissed through his teeth and it was the roughest you had ever heard him speak.

“Yes, I do.” To drive your point home, you nipped your own teeth at his earlobe, which instantly had his hips snapping against yours. Damn the clothes he hadn’t pulled off yet! “I’m not made of glass, Whisp,” your nails raked lightly against his scalp, “you don’t have to hold back when you take me.”

That’s when he growled, a deep, primal sound you never knew you wanted to hear from him. He finally pulled away from your neck and his eyes were dark as he looked down at you. Most of his hair had tumbled from its tie and the tips, which were currently dyed your favorite color, brushed against your face in a way that felt so intimate in that moment. You had to hold back a shaky breath as you looked back at him, the heat pooling in your center was practically unbearable now.

Whisper’s eyes slowly started to trail down your body, eyeing your bare chest with a hunger that was familiar in theory, but had a shadow to it this time. Eyes now half lidded, he dropped that skilled mouth to the spot just above your heart. He kissed gently at first, but it was all just a prelude to the way they traced your skin as he moved to the hard bud of your nipple.

Those hooded eyes were locked on your face again, watching you as his tongue darted across the sensitive spot. Then you were choking on a gasp as his teeth came out to play. Your body lifted up to meet him on instinct and his hand released its death grip on the pillow, darting down to pin your chest back to the bed.

He held you there as he left his marks, a pattern over your heart, lips and teeth working in a head spinning tandem that had you crying his name again. Oh, he liked that. His teeth pressed harder and his free hand dug possessively into your thigh without a word.

Whatever fire he had been quelling before, it was consuming him now. With one final lick to comfort the abused skin, he pulled back, hands darting to your underwear and practically tearing them off as he pulled them down your legs. 

“Look at me,” he breathed out harshly.

You blinked at the quiet command, having barely realized that you were watching his hands, not his face. When you obeyed, locking eyes with his again, Whisper released the clasp of his belt with one hand and pushed his pants down with the other. His hard cock pressed against you as he leaned over you fully, large arms pinning beside your head to cage you. To envelop you in nothing but him.

“Say it,” was his next command, his hips pressing teasingly into yours.

It was all you could do to swallow and choke out a “What?”

“I’m waiting,” his hands found yours, fingers gripping you tight as he lifted them above your head and pressed them against the bed, “for permission.” He leaned down to press his lips to your ear. “Give me permission to have my way with you.”

“Yes!” you moaned, wrapped your legs around him, “Please, Whisper, do whatever you want with me!”

Another low growl was the only answer you got before he drove into you hard and fast. He took what you offered without hesitation, relishing every sound you made and left you begging for more.

tag list: @sev-on-kamino @anxiouspineapple99 @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @commander-sunshine @dystopicjumpsuit @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @arcsimper5 @littlemissmanga @wings-and-beskar @clonemedickix @freesia-writes @idontgetanysleep @523rdrebel @moonlightwarriorqueen @briefartnaturewolf @kimiheartblade @littlemissbshine @funeralreunion @chubbyhedgehog @ladytano420 @trixie2023 @mssbridgerton @wizardofrozz @vithepotato @mythical-illustrator @loving-the-cambridges

#really wanted to post this for OC sunday so hopefully its still up to standard #oc: whisper #clone oc x reader #oc x reader #whisper x reader #deeja writes

[pumpkzsafeplace]

anon questions 💌 : cute makeup tips for fall!

- with halloween coming up, it’s time for us to feel like the main character this fall! so here are some tips! <3

little is more! ⭐️

in my opinion little is more!

i love using concealer & using makeup to highlight my actual beauty and identify instead of covering it to be someone i’m not <3.

of course cover what you feel a little insecure about, but also use it to highlight things you find pretty!

for example i use eyeshadows to make my blue eyes pop! or use less makeup to highlight my freckles! <3

remember that there is nothing more beautiful that you & your healing journey <3

❀•°❀°•❀

embrace a nude lip! 🌙

a nude lip is one of my favourites to use! not only is it subtle- but it can go with bear enough every outfit choice if paired correctly!

the warm colours of a nude lip too just remind me of autumn and it’s warm tones! ah it’s just so cute! <3

another good thing about nude lips is if you’re not allowed to wear makeup (but want to!) you can look for lipsticks in your lip shade so that it looks subtle and unnoticeable but makes your little heart happy n content <3

❀•°❀°•❀

blush, blush, blush! ⭐️

i LOVE blush so so much!

i think it just pulls a makeup look together and the rosier the cheek- the cuter the look!

especially as we edge towards the colder months in the year, it just portrays such a cozy feeling!

never be afraid to experiment with it! <3

❀•°❀°•❀

dots & hearts 🌙

personalisation to a makeup look is one of my favourite things to do!

usually it’s a heart, or a little dot or sometimes even protection sigils!

but as we get deeper into fall, you can use this personalisation aspect to make your looks either more cosy or spooky! your choice!

you could draw some leaves, some pumpkins, some spiders! the choice is yours! <3

❀•°❀°•❀

dark & glitter! ⭐️

glitter can make any outfit pop!

which is why i really enjoy wearing it as eyeshadow during the colder seasons as it just holds a ‘festivity’ element about it!

however if you’re not allowed to wear makeup- my tip would be to use darker eyeshadow (a nude palette would be best) there you can create light shimmer to your lid or even just some dark shadows to deepen your look!

remember makeup is all about expression and creativity! it’s not targeted to one specific gender at all! if you want to experiment with it- then go nuts! <3

gif isn’t mine

#agere blog #age regression #agere community #sfw age regression #sfw agere #safe agere #sfw little community #sfw little blog #agere little #sfw little post #age regressor #age regressive #agere #agere lifestyle #age dreaming #age re #age regression caregiver #age re safe space #age re caregiver #age re blog #agere advice #agere sfw #agere post #agere caregiver #agere positivity #sfw littlespace #sfw interaction only #sfw regression #sfw blog #sfw

[i-am-minty-fresh]

Why I love the One Piece Live Action as someone who was incredibly skeptical

!Spoilers for the Live Action (kinda, use your discretion)!

Reason 1:

The Casting.

I do not need to get that into this because if you like One Piece at all you’ve definitely seen how much work the cast has put into being the most authentic version of these characters (I’m partial to Iñaki Godoy’s (Luffy) infectious goofiness and Taz Skylar’s (Sanji) martial artistry, but thats just cause I follow them both on instagram and I’m in love). The cast absolutely loves what they are making and you can tell so let's just blow them all a kiss and move on.

Reason 2:

The Design Choices.

I love all the choices but I’m gonna highlight one for the sake of time. Buggy. The man, the myth, the clown that terrorized tumblr for a bit, let's talk about the moron shall we. In the anime and manga Buggy is a clown. Nothing more. He’s introduced as scary but very quickly he becomes just a menace. In the live action though, oh he’s scary. Yeah it’s scary to see a mostly shadowed face with an eerie smile like in the anime or manga, but the live action makes me feel unnerved. He’s got mannerisms like Jack Nicholson's joker mixed with Pennywise’s body contortionists to create a character that makes me not just scared but unnerved. 

Reason 3:

Luffy.

This part was arguably what I was the most nervous about and what made me the happiest about overall. I was really scared about the graphics surrounding Luffy’s Gum Gum fruit, because I was thinking that they have to make him stretch and contort so often without it looking weird. While watching though I realized something that made me so happy. It does look weird. It’s looks really weird and can be hard to look at but that’s the fucking point. We all got so used to Luffy’s fruit we forgot about how gnarly it looks without animation. When characters react to his fruit we see them looking grossed out or scared, that's because his fruit is gross and scary to normal people. When he bends seemingly without a spine, when bullets bounce out of him, when he drags his head back to hit you with that Gum Gum Bell to those characters they’ve been seeing what we now have to look at. It makes you uncomfortable because a person shouldn’t be able to bend like that and that’s why everyone who sees it in the manga or anime looks like they're gonna puke or scream. You know what always fixes that feeling though? Luffy’s personality. His childishness, his creativity, his utter stupidity. He laughs it off and Iñaki Godoy does a perfect job emulating this! 

Final Thoughts.

There are some things that the Live Action doesn’t have. There are some things that it adds that some people won’t like. (The den den mushi’s are terrifying and I hate looking at them). As someone who loves this show with all their heart I get the instinct to point out differences and flaws and just get as mad as possible over little details but…I refuse to do so. I love complaining and if this adaptation truly sucked this would be a much longer and much angrier post but it just doesn’t suck. The only expectation I had was this adaptation needed to at least remind me why I absolutely fell in love with the stupid fucking pirate anime and instead it had me falling in love all over again. I suggest you watch it if you like One Piece, if for nothing else watch it because of how proud Oda is of it. He knows us better than anyone else, and he knows we’ll love it, so just trust him. He’s never let us down before.

#one piece #topic essay #monkey d luffy #one piece live action #opla #opla cast #roronoa zoro #black leg sanji #cat burglar nami #one piece usopp

[ice-cap-k]

Star Fall

Cross-posted on AO3 here: Star Fall

__________________________________________________

Have you ever loved someone so, so much that you actually hated them?

Pearl did. She loved Scott with a raging resentment.

Scott did. He hated Pearl with a cold fondness.

And as the fire scorched the earth around the two of them, Pearl found herself sizing Scott up. 

She was bloodied. She was bruised. She had killed again and again. 

He was pristine. There was no blood on his hands by choice and by convenience, but that meant little to her. He was a dead shot with a bow and more skilled than any of the people whose blood now coated her axe head. 

The few wolves she had left at her side growled bloodthirsty encouragement. Not Tilly, though. Tilly was gone. Part of Pearl’s soul wanted to leap forward to attack with them as Scott stood frozen in shock and awe at what she had done. Cleo was already dead on the side of the hill. What was one more slaughtered friend?

‘Fallen star’ Cleo had once called her by mistake. Technically that was Scott. He was the star child. He was the flash of brilliance.

Pearl was the moon. A beacon in the dark. Powerful enough to raise tides and shape the land as she saw fit. But she had still fallen. Just like Scott. They had taken each other’s hands and strode into a perilous world where bloodlust set in like a disease. It was them against the world. And then Cleo came knocking and it became three against infinity. They were supposed to gaslight, gatekeep, and girlboss their way to the end.

Cleo was gone now. So was Martyn, but he had no intention of standing by Pearl’s side after he realized he and Cleo were inextricably linked. Scott had abandoned her. The mirrored beat of his heart alongside hers was still there, though, even if he didn’t want it to be anymore.

They were never compatible soulmates anyway.

But the other half of her, the one who remembered what had been before things had gone so wrong… that part was still reluctant. 

Both of them stared each other down from either side of the hill. Neither was ready to make a first move. The space between them felt as vast as the distance between the moon and the stars.  

________________________________________________________

Pearl, Scott, and Cleo sat on the mossy roof of the Scottage. They were sprawled out, taking a moment to relax now that the boogeyman had finished their kill for the day. It was time to take advantage of the quiet lull before someone ended up losing another life and went red. 

They were content to lounge comfortably along the awning and while away their time as they sat and talked. Pearl, in her boredom, had found a Sharpie and reached for the nearest thing she could draw on. In this case, that was Scott’s arm.

“Are you thinking about home?”

“Maybe,” Pearl said with a smirk. “Now hold still, Scott. I’m almost done.”

“Just to be clear, you’re not doing me next.”

“Aw, Cleo.” Scott’s arm shifted in Pearl’s grasp, so she tightened her grip a little. Not enough to hurt him. Just enough to keep him still. She re-adjusted the silver marker in her grip and used it to point at Cleo teasingly. “You’re no fun. It’s not so bad. Think of it like a temporary tattoo.”

“Sure does tickle a lot for a tattoo,” Scott huffed. His fingers flexed against Pearl’s wrist, trying to relieve some of the pressure of her grip. She held on tight, dismissing his discomfort with a click of her tongue. 

Cleo snorted. “Thanks. But I’ll still pass.”

Pearl stuck out her tongue at the other girl.

The stars that danced in Scott’s eyes glittered when he smiled. “That’s alright, Pearl. You and I can match. I’ll do you next.”

“Why thank you, Scott. I would love that.” She went back to the drawing on the inside of Scott’s forearm. The silver ink showed up surprisingly well against his pale skin. She filled in the dark side of the moon she had sketched, leaving interwoven layers of lines to make up the illusion of shadows and highlights. A smattering of hand-drawn stars speckled the inside of his elbow. She hadn’t smudged anything yet. 

It was a pretty accurate representation if you didn’t count the stars. She knew a few constellations by heart, but not how they would fall in line within the moon’s orbit. Especially not from an Earthside view. Instead, she had focused on the way the light lit up the edges of craters and darkened the depths of dome-like valleys. 

“Aaaaaaand… Done!” She finally let go of his hand and smiled as he pulled it back to look over the details. For being a bored doodle on her friend's arm, it may have just been some of her finest work. “What do you think?”

He ran his fingers along the inside of his arm. The constellations in his eyes whirled and shifted as they scanned the detailed drawing of the moon. He was wary of smudging the ink; careful not to let the tips of his fingers brush against the last few lines she had drawn. There was starlight in his smile, the motes of bright brilliant light dancing around his head in shades of red, yellow, and green.  “It’s so pretty! I’ve just decided I’m never washing this off. I never want it to go away.” 

Pearl’s heart swelled with pride. 

“Now it’s my turn to do you.” Scott held out a hand for the marker. Pearl dropped it into his palm and started rolling up the sleeve of her midnight blue hoodie. She offered the inside of her arm eagerly. 

“Okay. You got to draw your home on me. So that means that I get to do the same to you.”The silver-tipped marker hung over her skin for a moment as Scott contemplated how to start. He nodded to himself, coming to some sort of decision before pressing the felt tip against her skin.

Scott was right. It did tickle.

Where her moon was made up of round dots and soft lines interwoven to give the illusion of color differences, Scott’s stars were made of hard edges and sharp lines. The arms of the stairs were thin like needles. The dotted paths connecting them were precise and evenly spaced as the constellation began to wrap around the sides of her arm.

Pearl recognized the blown-up image of Corona Borealis, the “northern crown.” The broken lines gave the cluster of stars its shape, while a few other surrounding stars were drawn suspended in the open patches of skin towards the top and bottom of her forearm. 

At some point, the half-drawn scene seemed to catch Cleo’s attention. She rolled over to get a better look at Pearl’s arm. Bits of moss still clung to her bright red hair as she shook it out. “That’s really good,” she said, sounding impressed. “Do all fallen stars know how to draw right off the get-go, or are you two just special like that?”

“Ah-ah-ah! I’m not a star child, remember,” Pearl corrected her. She would have waggled a finger to punctuate her point, but she didn’t want to move her arm and mess up Scott’s work. 

“Fine. Do all celestial beings automatically come with massive amounts of talent or do you have to work at it like the rest of us?” Cleo’s words came out clipped. She was short on patience, but well-meaning and almost teasing as she motioned between Scott and Pearl. 

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Scott answered, as he added a few radiating lines out from the far edge of the constellation. “You both know that I’m perfect in every way.” That got a few laughs out of both of the girls. 

Pearl shrugged the shoulder of the arm Scott wasn’t working on. “Nah. Me and Scott worked at this. I still practice sometimes. It’s not like I just popped into existence knowing how to build like I do.” She leaned back, looking off toward the cobblestone towers rising over the trees to the south. “Grian, though, he’s built different. If he told me that he’s always known how to make things look nice, I’d believe him.” 

The smirk on Cleo’s face widened. “And now you’re using those skills to build a death chamber.”

“Yup!”

“Brilliant.”

There was no guarantee Pearl would ever experience the boogeyman curse, but she wanted to be prepared. She wasn’t like Scott who tiptoed around the idea of death. Cleo and her were more alike in that regard. She was ready to welcome the thrill of the kill. “Thank you for helping me, by the way.”

“Of course. We’re a team. We’ve got each other’s backs…” There was a harsh glint in the back of Cleo’s eyes. A subtle growl to her words as she drew them out. Pearl could tell that BigB’s betrayal at the Fairy Fort was still fresh on her mind.

Pearl didn’t want her worrying about that again. She and Scott wouldn’t do that. Scott was far too honorable, and Pearl had been open with her plans for the trap she had been building underground. “We are,” she stated plainly, hoping the immediate response would help soothe Cleo’s nerves. “And I wouldn’t want to work with anyone other than you two.”

“All done!”

Scott finally released Pearl’s arm. The drawing shimmered in the late evening. It reminded her of her own eyes, the silver ink light and radiant like the disc of a full moon. The interconnected lines of the constellation were like a map leading to someplace neither Scott nor she could ever return to. It looked like he was feeling a little homesick as well. 

But this was their new home now. Their new normal. They were embracing it. 

“I love it. Thank you, Scott. Are you sure you don’t want one to match, Cleo?”

Cleo’s lip curled. Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked back and forth between both Scott and Pearl’s arms. Finally, she relented with a sigh.

“They are rather pretty, aren’t they?”

That was all the permission Scott and Pearl needed. Scott immediately uncapped the marker once more, while Pearl pulled another out of her pocket. This one a more bronzey copper. 

“What do you think, Scott?”

“I think we stick with a theme.”

“Do we do the Earth for Cleo?”

“I think we do the Earth for Cleo.”

Cleo rolled her eyes, but she held out her arms dutifully. “Why would I expect any different from the two of you? It’s not like I’m the only one from here.”

_____________________________________________________________________

Alas, that world was never made to last. True to who he was, Scott shone bright. He outshone everyone, even. The star child who tried to avoid killing others at all costs ended up the last one standing. 

Pearl was happy for him. Her and Cleo had cheered for him from beyond the edge of existence, where Grian’s watcher magic kept the lost souls at bay. And when Scott joined them, they embraced him with open arms and congratulations. 

Their alliance of three had stood strong until the end, and then it was time to say “So long. Until next time.”

But ‘next time’ involved meeting up in another world, for they could not return to the last.

This new world they were visiting was run by different laws. In the last world, lives could be traded like currency, but in doing so you ran the risk of running out. This was made even more risky with the presence of an insatiable desire for death that came and went called the ‘boogeyman curse.’ Pearl hadn’t minded that part so much.

By the law of this new world, though, you were bound to a soulmate.

Pearl wasn’t sure why the inside of her forearm felt all tingly when the tether was tied around her heart. Warmth spread from one side of her inner arm to the other in a wide, uneven C shape. It was pleasant but unexpected. Nobody else she had seen since coming here mentioned anything about a tingly feeling. 

When she pulled up her sleeve, she could see an uneven curve of dots interconnected by broken, glowing lines. It shone silver like the moon. Cold like ice.

Odd.

The others, they didn’t have anything like that. None of them mentioned the trace of needle-like sensations. 

They mentioned the overlapping emotions as two souls overlapped into one. They talked about how they could feel a second heartbeat. They complained at length how there would be an occasional twinge of pain in their ankles as if landing after a big fall, or scratches against their skin as if a mob had attacked them. 

Pearl had that as well, but it seemed like everyone else also had a strange quirk that had developed outside of the norm. For Joel, it looked like the iris in his left eye had lightened to a muddy red.  When she ran into BigB, it was the pair of fluffy ears growing out of the sides of his head. (It didn’t take much for her to figure out whom he had been conjoined to). Hers just happened to be lines glowing on her arm.

So Pearl decided not to think much of it. After all, there was so much to see in this great big world.

______________________________________________________________________

“Scott! Scott, wait!”

It felt like she was crash landing all over again as Scott turned his back on Pearl. If she closed her eyes, she could almost convince herself that the pain in her heart was one and the same as the pain when she fell. 

The crushing weight in her ribcage was doubled and staggered as the betrayal and frustration weighing down on Scott mixed with her own heartbreak and grief. Their hearts beat in unison, breaking further and further apart as they did.

All she had wanted was a bit of fun and adventure. So what if she got a little hurt along the way? She hadn’t gotten the two of them killed. 

“But you could have,” Scott hissed, reading her mind. He turned on her, fingers curling at his sides. “I was scrambling like crazy to get enough food to take care of the both of us, for you!”

“I was being careful!”

“You went into the NETHER!”

Pearl winced. She couldn’t exactly deny that.

“I can’t believe you. I don’t see you for one day, and you go and do something like that?! You do realize me and Cleo were looking all over the server for you, right?”

The tingling in her arm burned with his anger. She set her mouth in a thin line, not willing to show how much his words bothered her. But that wouldn’t work. They were bound. He could feel her unease as easily as she could feel his fear. His stardust was threaded throughout her moonstone-clad heart. 

Considering they could tell what the other was feeling, she didn’t have to say it out loud, but she replied out of courtesy. “I was looking too. But I couldn’t figure out my soulmate. And then I bumped into Martyn and I thought it wouldn’t hurt to have a little fun exploring.” 

The anger faded away. To Pearl’s surprise, the secondhand emotion turned to bitter disappointment.

“You couldn’t figure it out?” 

There was genuine hurt in his expression when she looked him in the eye. He held his arm out and rolled up his sleeve. The inside of the forearm was shining dimly, just like Pearl’s. Only the marking on his arm was different. It was a large circle made up of curved lines, shadows, and a smattering of stars.

“Oh…” So that wasn’t a large sideways C on her arm. It was the Corona Borealis. 

She had forgotten about the doodles they had drawn a couple of worlds ago.

As soon as that thought crossed her mind, Scott’s emotions soured. He could feel her guilt welling up and there was nothing she could do to hide it from him. “I can’t believe this. You actually forgot.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did! You didn’t even realize what that was, did you?” he snapped, pointing at her arm. “You weren’t looking for me. You were looking for anyone who fit the bill for a soulmate.”

“But I’m glad it’s you. We can be Gatekeep, Girlboss, and Gaslight together. Just like last time.” 

She reached out towards him, but Scott flinched away. He stumbled back into the trees, putting as much space as possible between the two of them. 

“No. No Gatekeep. No Girlboss, and no Gaslight. Not this time. Me and Cleo were there for each other while you were off risking our lives. As far as I’m concerned, she’s my soulmate.”

__________________________________________________________

It was awfully lonely up in Pearl’s tower.

There was Cleo and Scott, who were doing their best to avoid her. And then there was the rest of the server. 

Ren had called her a witch. BigB had agreed. She was pretty sure Bdubs and Impulse were afraid of her. Martyn still wasn’t talking to her. Joel and Etho were alright, at least until she stole Joel’s chest plate. Whatever tentative friendship they had before that had gone out the window.

At least she had Tilly. The wolf was resting its head in her lap, begging for scratches around the ears. She whined, shoving her head into Pearl’s stomach.

Scott would feel that. It wouldn’t hurt him, but he would be feeling the rough scrape of the wolf’s claws as Tilly tried to crawl into Pearl’s lap. Just like she could feel the stiffness in her shoulders from Scott’s long day of chopping trees and tunneling out the mines. 

Pearl absently rubbed at the space between her wolf’s ears as she stared at the mark inside her arm. The constellation glittered back at her with cold silver light. She could remember the way the marker tickled against her skin as Scott had drawn it. 

She should tickle Scott back.

Tilly whined as she gently pushed the wolf out from her lap. She followed at Pearl’s side as she looked out the window. 

There was a snow-covered mountain in plain view. That would work.

So she took the ladder two rungs at a time. When she reached the bottom, she spilled out the bucket of water in her inventory so Tilly could leap down after her. The wolf splashed paws first in the puddle she had made. From there, it was only a hop, skip, and a jump to get to the snowy side of the mountain. 

As soon as she found a pile of powdered snow, she submerged her arm all the way to the shoulder. Soon the tingle of the mark was overshadowed by the bite of the cold. Pearl pushed herself deeper into the snow drift until she was standing in it. Goosebumps appeared on her skin. It was starting to sting.

Hopefully, Scott felt that tickle.

Tilly, ever the loveable ball of fluff, leaped into the snow next to Pearl. Pearl reached out to scratch the wolf’s scruff and she rolled onto her back. Clumps of snow went flying as the wolf kicked them up, growling with glee. 

It gave Pearl something to keep her mind off the cold. Scott’s annoyance was already starting to kick in. Pearl could taste steak on her tongue. Her belly felt full, despite not eating. Scott was eating for the both of them. 

He wasn’t coming. She could practically hear his thoughts. No matter how much she tried to get his attention. He had Cleo. It was time Pearl accepted that.

So she focused on the here and now. On her and her wolf. She laughed, flinging her hands out to send a flurry of snow raining down on Tilly. 

__________________________________________________________________

Teaming up with Scott and Cleo had been a bad idea. It was a good idea in that if the four of them were ever going to work together, now was the time. The entire server was in chaos, and they were stronger together than they were apart. But it was a bad idea in that both Scott and Pearl couldn’t calm down around each other. There was too much suspicion. Scott was nervous that she would make trouble. That worry planted the thought in her head. It was tempting, but this was also the deep dark where they could easily lose one of their precious lives. And honestly, Pearl was nervous they would leave her alone again.

They were trying, but it wasn’t going the way either of them had hoped. 

It was a good thing wardens were blind. The light emanating from both of them kept half the cavern well-lit. Scott’s starlight outshone her own moonlight, and she let it. Not everything had to be a competition and she was trying to stay on her best behavior.

Scott spared Pearl a look out the corner of his eye as they tiptoed across patches of skulk. “You’re not going to pull out a bucket of powdered snow, are you?”

“No.” She pulled the hood tighter over her head as an excuse to avoid eye contact with him. “But I could if you want another tickle.”

“No thank you. I’d rather not.”

Cleo and Martyn were still laying out a  trail of wool on the other end of the cavern. It would be a while before they caught up

“You know what, Scott, it might have been hard to forgive you at the start of the season for just abandoning me like that, but you know what? We’re pretty good. You’re a pretty good partner.”

“Thank you. I mean, we tested it last time and it worked well. It was just… you hurt my feelings when you went away with Martyn and then we looked for you for ages and I couldn’t find you. And then I was sad…”

Pearl pushed aside a screen of skulk as they crept towards the warden tunnel.  “You know, I’m just gonna talk to that for a second. How about the reverse, right? You were off with Cleo from my perspective.”

Scott frowned. “We bumped into everyone else. We were actually looking for our soulmates.”

“I was looking-”

“Hello,” Martyn called out. He and Cleo appeared from over the deepslate brick wall. “Have you found what we were looking for?”

“Yeah,” Scott said. He and Pearl looked away from each other, taking a few steps further apart. The conversation was essentially over, and neither of them felt any better about the situation. 

Pearl could feel it in her bones. This temporary alliance wasn’t made to last. Scott and Cleo were in it for themselves. So was she. 

__________________________________________________________________

It was all over, one way or another.

There could only be one survivor. 

Pearl was having a hard time looking at Scott and the tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. The constellations in them were dim as he spotted Cleo’s body. Her hand went to the constellation on her own arm. The grief was overwhelming.

“I didn’t think it would end this way,” he muttered.

“To be honest, neither did I.”

She shifted the ax in her hand. They were linked. They could feel everything the other could. They both knew what had to happen. Scott’s thoughts drifted at the back of her mind. ‘She deserves it.’

He reached into his jacket pocket. “Pearl, you deserve this more.” She stumbled back as he pulled out a bundle of TNT.

“Excuse me! What do you mean?!?”

The starlight in his eyes flickered. The fuse lit. 

“Tilly death do us part, Pearl. Tilly death do us part.”

The fuse reached the top of the explosive casing.

“SCOTT-!”

There was a supernova of light and fire. A blast that rivaled that of a dying sun.

And then Scott’s starlight flickered out in the shadow of the moon.

#whumptober 2023 #prompt no. 27 #“you drew stars around my scars but now I'm bleeding” #traffic smp #life series #trafficblr #double life #last life #creative writing #major character death #3rd Life | Last Life SMP Series-Typical Character Death #animal death #star child scott Smajor #scott smajor #pearlescentmoon #moon deity pearl #pearl-centric #zombiecleo #soulmate identifying marks

[triplesilverstar]

Sitting by the meager fire just outside the bus you almost have to laugh at how comical the situation you’ve been placed in is.

When you’d been leaving your small sleepy settlement for the city you knew it was going to be a while, almost three days of sitting in the cramped space and had packed enough water and food for a week. Part of you had felt paranoid at the time stuffing things into your bag in your rush to leave, your few belongings barely even took up half a back pack. So you’d kept shoving meal blocks and bars with bottles of water into it until it would barely close, you’d take whatever you could while trying to find a better life for yourself.

Now, a day and a half into the trip you were glad. Glad for a simple reason.

The bus had broken down.

In the middle of nowhere.

One benefit to it all was the fact the bus hadn’t been too full and for the most part people were sleeping in their seats when they weren’t up and about complaining about the delay. You had zero complaints, this far from the town you at last felt safe for the first time since you parents had died. Sitting there beside one of the large rubber tires watching the stars glimmer in the night sky, a feeling of hope blooming in your chest.

Jumping when a thin blanket was dropped over your shoulders. “I was wondering where you might have slipped away too!” Looking up to see the smiling face of the preacher that had hopped onto the bus just before it left town.

“Just minding my own business” Trying to keep your tone neutral as you felt yourself shrink under his gaze.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Almost right away his boisterous tone drops away as well as the volume of his voice. “I was worried you might have been in a hurry to get moving and might have tried to walk the rest of the way.”

Huffing at his answer and feeling a little bit of indignity you look up at him with your eyes narrowed. “Why do you care?”

“Well, I am a man of the cloth.” Turning on his feet and sliding down the side of the bus but keeping a respectful distance from you. “You might be young, but I can tell you’ve seen some things in your life. I’d have hated to see it cut short because you couldn’t wait a little while longer for the bus to get fixed. Walking the desert at night is no place for a young person such as yourself.”

For a while you sit there in silence thinking about his words before licking your lips to answer. “I just wanted to sit outside and enjoy the fresh air. I’m not stupid enough to think I have enough supplies to walk through the desert.” Shifting forward so your bending a little bit and letting your chin rest on your knee, looking out towards the distance where you can see the rolling sand dunes painted almost midnight blue is comparison to the pale tan of the day.

“I never meant to imply anything about your intelligence. Just that when people are running they don’t always make the best choices.” Sending the man a side eye as he seemed to be looking around in his pockets for something and growing a little frantic before slumping in relief. “Now that might have been a real tragedy.” Placing a long thin white stick to his lips before clicking his lighter. The flame casting a random pattern of shadows along his face, highlighting the prominence of his facial features and the thin smattering of dark hair along his chin before that light goes out. Replaced by the smouldering ember of the cigarette between his fingers, the image making you laugh a little wondering if that’s how the stars view your lives. As bright flames that disappear just as quickly as they appear.

“A tragedy if you couldn’t find a smoke?” Feeling the tightness in your shoulders starting to ease as your wariness of the man loosens.

“Everyone has a bad habit, and this happens to be mine.” Turning and holding out his hand towards you to shake. “Nicholas D. Wolfwood.” A long exhale as you reach out to take his hand and giving your own name in return, he’s been nothing but friendly with all the passengers and the driver on the bus. You can’t see giving him your name as something to come back and bite you in the ass in future.

“Nice to meet you, and I do apologize if I came off as a little creepy.” The hand not holding his cigarette rubbing at the back of his head. “I was just worried about you.”

“You don’t need to be. I’m heading to a new life.” Looking back out over the sands you smile. “I know it won’t be easy, but it’s what I want.”  You don’t want to think about the last five years, you’re happy to forget it ever happened and wash it from your mind. A new chapter in your life.

A low chuckle from your companion next to you. “A new life. Are you sure you know what that entails?” There’s something in his voice, that you can’t tell if it’s wistful or something else but you don’t miss the light tremble in it. Almost as if he’s mournful of the life he himself has to live.

“I know it’s going to be hard and I might not make it, but I want a tomorrow of my choosing. Not someone else’s.” Slapping his knee and laughing loud enough you hear someone inside the bus telling him to keep it down you have to smile. It is the most relaxed you’ve felt since you left town the day before and your hope for the future soars while he apologises to the voice that had called out to him before turning his attention back on you.

“You’re something else that’s for sure. You remind me of some of the kids at the orphanage.” Looking towards him as the chill night air starts to settle in more and asking about those kids as he grows more animated. Filling the night air with tales of the shenanigans of children, from getting into trouble and tender moments of looking after one another and it warms your heart. Yes you had no idea what the future might have in store in for you, but if there are more men like this priest willing to worry about a stranger like you than you have hope you’ll see more dawns out on your own than you did in your old town.

#trigun #twink writes #nicholas d. wolfwood #trigun 98 #Wolfwood #Reader #wolfwood wednesday #fluff

[periru3]

An Unauthorized Tafadhali Vid Starter Pack

Today I was bored, and when I am bored I make lists. The list my brain has decided to make today is a list of my favorite of my sister’s (@tafadhali) fanvids. Except “favorite” was too difficult and too vague, so I started thinking of it in terms of what vids I would recommend to someone who had never seen her vids before. That still wasn’t enough structure for me, so I decided to give myself some categories to make sure I had a wider array of vids represented, and what I ended up with was sort of... vid superlatives? Anyway, I’m quite happy with my list, so I’ve decided to share it with you all. Without further ado, here is me shouting through a megaphone about how cool my sister is for no particular reason:

YouTube Playlist

1) Most On-Brand: I am a (Library) Scientist - Multi-Fandom (Horror)

If you want to get a very quick impression on what sort of vidder Taf is, and some insight into her interests, this is pretty representative.  Multi-fandom? Check! Horror? Check! Literally about her IRL profession? Check! An ideal get-to-know-you vid for Tafadhali. 

2) Special Interest Vid: We Kiss in the Shadows - Multi-Fandom (LGBT)

Love me a vid that’s basically like “hey, come look at this rarely-vidded thing I know lots about!” (admittedly, a not dissimilar category to the one above). Anyway, Taf’s love and knowledge of classic films and of queer film history come through beautifully in this (as well as the other vid in her Screened Out series, Masculine Women! Feminine Men!), and it makes me cry every time. 

Honorable Mention: Paperback Writer - Multi-Fandom (Stephen King)

3) Critical Vid: Fortunate Son - Star Wars

This vid is amazing because it both captures all that I love about Finn as a character while also highlighting and calling out the ways in which the character what let down and done dirty by the writing of Star Wars. Also truly amazing song choice and lyrical matches. 

Honorable Mention: Hail Satan - Stranger Things

4) Character Study: Patient Zero - Harry Potter

One of Taf’s earliest vids, this character study is one I come back to again and again for it’s beautiful and insightful portrayal of Harry’s arc throughout the series, with a focus on his relationship with fame, destiny, and some really complex parental figures.

Honorable Mention: California - Mad Men

5) Shippy Vid: Umbrella - Singin’ in the Rain

Yes, it’s a Cosmo character study, but it’s also the cutest darn OT3 vid in all the land, and it’s Taf’s most popular vid for good reason! It’s a total delight! It’s full of silliness and very well-matched-to-the-music dancing! And it uses a song cover inspired by this very movie, so that’s fun!

Honorable Mention: C’est la Vie - Doctor Who

6) Emotionally Devastating Vid: Achilles Come Down - Les Miserables

If you’re looking to cry, this vid is the one for you! Tafadhali seamlessly blends multiple adaptations of the same story into one heart-wrenchingly gorgeous vid (rendered all the more stark and affecting in it’s Black and Red iteration). This story and these characters are dear to the vidder’s heart, and it shows. 

7) Intense Vid: Man on a Wire - Hannibal

This psychological horror/thriller vid is definitely one to get the adrenaline pumping! The fast-paced song paired with the super sharp editing of this vid really do justice to the visually stunning source, and capture the fractured mental state of Will Graham perfectly.

Honorable Mention: Brutal - Yellowjackets

8) Comfort Vid: Waters of March - Multi-Fandom (Miyazaki) 

This is easily one of my most re-watched of Tafadhali’s vids. While in moments this vid is tinged with sadness or sort of bittersweet nostalgic feelings, by the end of it I always feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and like my heart’s grown three sizes, and a bunch of other sappy metaphors. 

Honorable Mention: Synchronicity - Sense8

9) Vid that Makes Me LOL: Whatta Man - George of the Jungle

Honestly, whatta vid. It manages to be genuinely sweet while also making me giggle like a mad man. The song choice is inspired. It truly captures all that is delightful about this ridiculous movie. Honestly just a good, silly time from start to finish!

Honorable Mention: Short Skirt Long Jacket - What’s Up Doc?

10) Dance Party Vid: Super Bass - Sense8

Also a valid category for this one: The Sexy Vid. Basically it’s just a fun, energetic, sexy, joyous romp of a vid and it makes me want to crank the volume and dance along to Nicki Minaj and the lovely cast of Sense8! 

11) I Don’t Even Go Here: Beautiful Dirty Rich - Columbo 

So when Taf made this, I pretty much knew nothing about Columbo (I’ve since seen a couple eps), but what I did know is I loved the hell out of this vid, and sometimes that’s just how it goes! Must one know who these people are? Is it not enough that a vid entrance you with its on-point editing and its vibes? 

12) Non-English Vid: La Noyée - Portrait of a Lady on Fire

This gorgeous vid, like the movie it’s for, is in French. I think some of the beauty of this one is that while the lyrical matching is perfectly done, if you want to first experience the vid without the distraction of subtitles, I think the visuals paired with the obvious melancholy of the music paints just as clear a picture whether you understand the lyrics or not. 

Honorable Mention: Desaparecida - Carmen Sandiego

13) A Gift for Her Favorite Sister: Sound the Bells - It (Miniseries) 

Look, I never claimed to be coming at this list from an unbiased perspective. And Tafadhali makes me vids all the time, whether in the form of actual gifted works, or just vids she knows I am the main target audience for, so this seemed like a fair category to include. This one in particular is for a fandom that is super meaningful to both of us, and it makes me tear up every time! 

Honorable Mention: Derry Jukebox/Castlerock Around the Clock - Multi-Fandom (Stephen King)

14) A Co-Vid with Her Favorite Sister: The Chosen One’s Lament - Multi-Fandom

Honestly, I couldn’t make this list without this category any more than I could make a list of my own vids without it. We love making vids together, and we’ve made quite a few! This vid is the first (and arguably best) in many categories that have since defined our co-vidding body of work - multi-fandom, meta, humorous, set to Crazy Ex-Girlfriend music, just to name a few. Also the need for the 11-way split screen in this is what got us both to finally transition to using Premiere instead of iMovie, so I’d say we both owe a lot of our subsequent vid quality to this one. 

Honorable Mention: Rose Bride My World - Revolutionary Girl Utena

15) Best In Show: Pynk - Multi-Fandom (LGBT)

I literally cannot praise this vid highly enough. It’s beautifully edited, beautifully curated (what a selection of movies!), beautifully structured. The sheer scale of this project (not to mention the fact that it was editing in iMovie, where organizing clips is basically impossible) is enough for it to warrant a spot on this list, but what really takes it from merely an impressive vid to a truly great one is the love of the subject material that shines through in every clip choice and edit. It’s an earnest celebration of girlhood, adolescence, femininity, and queerness, and watching it even for the hundredth time still takes my breath away. Watching this vid, I just feel so much - I feel awkwardness and the excitement and the angst of growing up, I feel the delight and the connectedness of those formative friendships, I feel the giddiness and the heartache of first loves, I feel the confusion and the joy and the defiance of emergent queerness. I just love everything about this vid and I can’t think of a better example of Tafadhali’s skills and strengths as a vidder than this. 

Anyway, thank you for coming to my TED Talk. 

#vid #vids #fanvid #fanvids #fanvid recs #recs #vid recs #fanvid recommendations #vid playlist #harry potter #les miserables #buffy the vampire slayer #btvs #queer film #it miniseries #it 1990 #stephen king #horror #star wars

[bagsybaggins]

Pandora’s Lullaby: Chp. 1

CHAPTER 1: PANDORA’S BEGINNING

Summary:  Temptation. The burning fire of uncontrolled curiosity. A lack of self-restraint. That is what the story of Pandora's Box was about, how humans would always be curious, and how nothing could quench that thirst for more knowledge. But this isn't about a box filled with monsters, plagues, or hope. This is about something else. Pandora couldn't remember her past or even her own name. Her mind fragmented and her memories were hidden in the depths of her tortured self. She wasn't a ghost of her former self, no. They had left, abandoned her. A blurry figure from her past, a figment of her mind to create some comfort, they pushed her back to her feet. She had found a new name, a new self to live as. She couldn't be that former self, even if she could remember, that former self was as good as dead. But the past never stays that way, it always finds a way to be brought back up. Pandora had made herself, built from the fragments and the ashes of her puzzle. But someone knows her, misses her, mourns her, loves her. And someone, someone will love her as she is.

Cold and damp concrete walls, with an interestingly dull fungus growing up the walls. Rodger is the name for the fungi, a name she chose. They were kind enough to give her a thin worn blanket, even if it did have some strange stains, but it was better than bothering, and she wouldn't complain.

How long have you been here? A voice of reason echoed from an unknown source, yet it sounded familiar.

How long? She wondered silently, her eyes that had once been full of life were now dark and dull, heightened by the hallowed cheeks and the dark bags under her eyes. A while, she decided.

How long is a while? The voice pushed again.

"Does it matter?" She whispered, turning her head to look out the small barred window near the ceiling, one too high for her to reach.

The voice was silent, thinking. It does to me. It finally answers, its tone somehow shifting lower, becoming more familiar. 

Her eyes shifted to the shadow in the corner of the room, where the corpse of a fellow prison lay rotting. He had been dead long before she arrived, nothing more than a pile of old bones, still leaning against the corner wall. An image flickered over the bones like a second picture was passed through a projector. A man sat briefly in the bone's place before disappearing.

"Why?" She asked, her voice soft.

The bones flickered again, a shade of green and a sparkle of blue highlighting the figure.

Why? It echoed, or maybe mocked, she wasn't sure. But did it matter which one?

"What does it matter to you?" She tilted her head as she watched the figure blur. "I don't know who you are."

The figure disappeared, and a suffocating silence filled the room. "You will, Darlin'" The voice cleared, "You'll remember me."

She stared at the bones, waiting patiently for the hallucination to come back. But after what may have been hours, she looked away, turning back to the window to watch the snow fall from the sky.

"I'm not sure if I should remember you." 

---

She remembered small portions of her life before this. Small fractures of memories that were scrambled, and some forgotten altogether. The small fear, a voice of fear in the back of her mind, questioned if some of the memories were real. She knew some had been... changed, altered. But then that makes her question the rest of them, who to say they weren't altered to?

She was certain of one thing.

She wasn't the same anymore. The person she was before, they were gone. Buried with the past that she had no choice but to leave behind.

How long have you been like this?

The voice, haunted her, a memory of someone she has yet to remember. Yet they helped her, despite everything.

"A while." She hummed in reply, looking down at the cold aluminum tray that would be tossed under her door at uncommon intervals.

How long is a while?

Questions, it always had questions. A curious mind, starved for the information she was sure that it knew.

She paused as she digested the old hard and stale bread, leaving the lukewarm bland porridge for last. "I'm not sure." She answered, turning to the pile of bones. "I stopped counting after 1000 days."

The bones didn't move, and she turned back to the bread. But her mind pushed to remember, how long had she been like this.

You've given up?

Her spine tingled as the voice spoke again, a shiver rushing through her. Her chin dipped and her eyes narrowed as she looked out of the corner of her eyes.

"What else can I do?" She tonelessly spoke, the crush of the bread creaking under the pressure of her grip.

Fight back, try to escape.

Her laughter was hollow as she rolled her eyes, "I tried that, why do you think I was put in here instead?" She gestures to the walls surrounding her.

"It doesn't take long for them to start talking. Eventually, they always talk." A different malicious voice speaks out, and her blood freezes beneath her skin. 

Her eyes widen as she slowly shifts towards the steel door, that was being blocked by a man. A dark shadow figure, with no face, only dark red eyes stared down at her. 

Fight back, try to escape. The normal voice pleaded, but it sounded distant now, and the shadow figure took a step forward as she stared in fear. Come back to me!

As a malicious, sadistic grin appeared on the shadow's face, the room darkened and became engulfed in the shadows. Her bowl tipped over and spilled the porridge to the ground as she pushed herself backward. Her foot slipped as it landed on the tray, and a hand shot out from the shadows and grasped her ankle. Then, it all went dark.

---

Her dull eyes trailed over towards the pile of bones, the skull sitting on top of the pile with half of its cranium now missing. She leaned against the wall, beside the fungi Rodger, her arms covered in bruises and an iron taste resting in her mouth.

I should have kept you safe.

Her eyes fluttered shut, a subtle hint of relief hitting her system as she shifted her arm over her stomach. "Why didn't you?" Her left leg twitched with the slight movement as she tried to wiggle her toes.

The figure shifted behind her eyelids, moving directly in front of her. She opened her eyes, feeling her strength and energy to stay awake being drained. 

You know why. The voice responded, and she sighed heavily.

"You know I can't remember, so tell me." 

The blur stretched up, the green turning a little more yellow as it walked towards the window. Her eyes traced its movement, how its outline grew and shrank like it was inhaling. How its right arm raised up towards the window, barely brushing the bottom bars that covered it. How nothing gave any real details of what it really looked like. 

I loved you (Lie), and I still do (Lie). We fought. I made a mistake, fucked up, and hurt you.  (Truth). And I had to leave, like a fool I left you, without fixing what I had done. (Truth). The figure turned back to her and she noticed how the figure's face had tears falling from the blue sparkly buttons it had for its eyes. And they took you to get to me. They took you from me.

She stared up at the figure for a moment, wondering how her mind created such a thing.

"Then why haven't you come for me?" She asked, and it visibly recoiled from her question.

I-I've tried, but (Lie).

"They've abandoned you." My thoughts whispered, "Forgotten you as you've forgotten me."

She looked towards the pile of bones, staring into its white eye sockets with half-lidded eyes. Sleep dragged her down, and her thoughts started to talk. Forgotten her, abandoned and trapped. 

"1000 days is all you counted, but you gave up at 700." She heard her own voice whisper. "You stopped believing that you'd be saved at 700. You gave up hope. Do you remember what that felt like? What having hope felt like? It felt like a warm embrace on a cold day. Where each breeze you feel your body slowly getting colder, and colder. Yet that embrace stops you from freezing."

She closed her eyes, her body tilting to the left, before falling onto her side. Her eyes opened, but everything was blurry. The figure moved in front of her, but it looked more see-through than before, flickering like a tv with a bad signal.

"Do you remember the old story, of a girl named Pandora who was gifted a box? How when she opened the box, out came the monsters and demons of mankind's sins? And how, in the depths of that box, was hope?" Her voice mumbled as her focus faded in and out. "Do you wonder why hope was in the box filled with monsters and demons?"

Her thoughts froze as her eyes slowly drifted shut. "Yes." She muttered, answering her thoughts.

"Because sometimes having hope is the worst torment of them all." And then, it all faded to black.

—

What is it like to drown? To have the water fill your lungs, and suffocate you until the world goes dark. It is painful when you feel a white fire spreading through your lungs and up your throat as you gasp for air, yet can't get it. But, isn't there a brief moment, of serenity? Just as your life begins to fade, the pain slips away and you're left in the water letting the world pass by. Floating there, eyes slowly drifting closed, and the last bubble of air slipping out of your mouth heading towards the surface you couldn't reach.

You've forgotten who you are. But your life doesn't have to end there. 

But if I tried, aren't I going to need hope? To hope that I'll find myself again?

Hope? No, you don't need hope. And you don't need to open the old wounds left by me, forget me. Push forwards and don't look back. That's what's best for you. What's best for us.

Will you disappear, if I became someone new?

No. I'll be here, a ghost. I can't help you, so you need to.

I don't know if I can.

I'm sorry Darlin', but you don't have a choice.

—

The shadow had visited again, but it was just a man. My hands were covered with his red blood, and the smell of iron in the air, and the taste of it in my mouth was what broke me out of my thoughts. The once cold and damp concrete walls were now bright and wet with warm blood. My chest heaved with each breath as my adrenalin started to wear off.

I killed him. I don't think I've killed before.

We do what we have to do to survive darlin'. Now get moving, he screamed a lot when you started trying to tear his throat out with your teeth. Check his ankle, looks like he's kept his knife on him.

Slowly I nod along to the voice's commands, reaching down and pulling the knife from his boot. 

Go left, people are coming from the right.

Pushing open the door that had been left ajar, I must've attacked him the moment he entered. Shaking my head, I look to the right and hear voices and footsteps. My fingers curl around the knife as I hesitate to move, my strange rage building up as I remember the torture I've endured. I walked forward, turning and pressing my back against the wall to hide in the shadow of the doorway that was opposite my door. From my cell.

I leaned my head back as they came into view, turning towards my cell door without even glancing at me. Only three of them, and only one had a gun. They spoke Russian, something I had grown to understand within my time trapped here, although I'm still unsure of how long I had been here. Too long.

Lifting the knife I step forward and bring my hand around the front of him, slicing his throat. I almost grinned from the sound he made as he choked on his own blood, I wasn't always like this, was I?

The other two turned around as he fell to his knees, dying. The one with the gun was in the cell while the other was in the doorway, blocking me from him. I tightened my grasp on the knife, feeling the blood lose my grip ever so slightly. Pushing forward, I aimed for his throat and stabbed him. His eyes were brown and they widened as he tried to push me away, but the damage was done. He coughed up blood as I pulled the knife out, and I looked over his shoulder at the last man standing. His eyes were also brown and wide. He started to raise his gun, and so I pushed the man into him, and he stumbled and tried to catch him. Then the realization hit him, and he looked at me just before I stabbed him in his eye.

I know I wasn't like this before.

But this is who I am now.

—

We should know who did this, who took you. The voice said before tapping the desk. So go on, ask him.

The man, who I remember from a long time ago. The one who visited and tortured me every year, marking the occasion of my arrival by whipping me each year, adding an extra slash for each new year. I stared him down, the blood of his men dripping down my body, soaking my ragged clothing that was barely holding on. A gun, that I took and helped, was pointed at his head. I must've looked crazy.

"It's been over five years, Alexi." I glare down at him, finally able to recall a number near to how long I had been here. "You've kept me here and tortured me for over five goddamn years."

He swallows thickly before nodding his head in agreement. "Yes, it would appear so." He said with his thick Russian accent.

I shake my head and laugh hollowly. "I'm the only one that's going to be walking out of here Alexi. You're dying here, but I just want to know one thing."

He raises his brow, sweat dripping down his forehead. 

"Why did you take me?" 

His eyes widen before he shakes his head, stumbling and mumbling some bullshit excuses. "I-I don't know- It's been so long."

Aiming the gun down and left, I fire, hitting him in his right shoulder. I liked the scream of his pain.

"I'm not fucking around Alexi!" I yell, my eyes widening as laughter, crazed laugh bubbled from me. "Tell me, why."

"Блядь! I was ordered! I was just following orders!" He yelled.

I narrow my eyes as I step closer. "Who gave the orders?"

He shook his head, tears welling in his eyes. "I can't, he'll kill me-"

I pressed the barrel to his forehead. "I'll be killing you, Alexi, don't worry. Now tell me."

"Makarov." He glared at me through tears, and I smiled.

"Thank you so much, Alexi." I pulled the trigger, flinching slightly when his blood splattered onto my face.

It's time to go Darlin', it won't take long before someone realizes that something ain't with their radio silence.

"Stop calling me that, you lost that privilege."

Fair enough. What do I call you then?

—

"Pandora," She turns her eyes up, looking through her lashes as two men walk into the room. "You have been, very busy these past two months."

'Two months since my escape, two months and three weeks to be exact.' She thought, her eyes shifting towards the tall man that stood in the corner of the room.

She wore a plain black mask, flat with no design on it, only two holes for her to look through. Her clothes were simple denim jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt, accompanied by a dark blue jacket she had stolen, and a pair of boots she also stole. Her brown hair had been washed and cut but was placed in a ponytail that helped keep her mask in place. 

Crossing her arms, she looked at the man across the table, who had a thick handlebar mustache and a stern look on his face. Behind her mask, she raised a brow as she tilted her head. "I know, but what about it?" She paused, glancing at the man wearing the hood over his head stood, his eyes boring into her. "And who are you?"

"Who we are doesn't matter, and we're asking the questions here." The man with the mustache answered as he placed his hands on the table, along with a folder. "You've taken down 4 different druglords in two different territories these past two months, what I want to know is why. Who do you work for?"

She watched as he flipped open the folder, revealing its contents as he spread out the pictures and files on each one. Her memories of them passed through her mind, recalling each one of them. Leaning back in the seat she turned her head up towards the ceiling, watching the light flicker for a moment. She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, listening to their breathing and the slight buzzing from the electricity. When the man tsked at her silence, she smiled underneath her mask.

"I'd suggest you answer me, Pandora. Or we will use other methods." He says, causing her to open her eyes at the threat.

"You think you can hurt me?" She asks, speaking up for the first time since they had found her at the last drug lord's place. 

"I know we can." He replies quickly.

She laughs loudly, curling forward as her shoulders shook. "Oh, no. you couldn't." Her laughter stopped as she raised her head, her eyes cold as she looked up at him from across the table. "You couldn't hurt me, not even if you tried."

He narrows his eyes at her, brown eyes. She looks over at the man in the corner, his grey eyes trained on her like she was a target. "Him, maybe. But you, you couldn't."

Sighing she crossed her legs and turned back to the mustache man. "But I have no issues with you, so I'll tell you." She paused, catching the slight look of surprise that crossed his face. "I don't work for anyone, and why I killed them was because they had the information I needed. Well, that and that they were genuinely bad people. I think I did the world a favor."

"Information? What kind of information?"

"Personal information, and information on someone I'm looking for."

The mustache man nodded his head while narrowing his eyes, and crossing his arms. "The woman cargo, to the Russian prison that was attacked a few months back. That was you, wasn't it."

Her eyes flash up to look at him and she slowly nods her head. "Yes."

"That report that you dug up and kept on the hard drive, that was years old."

A bitter realization hit him, reflecting through his eyes as she nodded her head again.

"A little over five years, I was kept there." She exhaled, clenching her cold fingers.

"You also have files on someone else, Makarov." The masked man spoke, an accent that she couldn't place. "Why?"

Turning to him she smiled, not that he could see it. "I wondered when you would speak up." And when he didn't respond, she sighed. "From the information, I could find, he was the one who ordered it to happen."

The mustache man frowned, "Why?"

Pandora inhaled and shook her head. "From what I can remember, I was with a man who was in the military. They targeted me to get to him, I think."

"You think?"

She turned up towards him and nodded her head. "I can't remember my past, not even my own name."

"So you are trying to find information on your past? To find him, the one you were with?" The masked man asked and Pandora turned to him again.

She thought for a moment, her eyes drifting to the green figure that had stayed in the corner to her left behind her. Its sparkly button eyes stared at her as they awaited her answer.

"No, my past is behind me, I can't return to that. And he never found me, it's best to stay away. To not be found." She sighed, "I can assume you know Makarov?"

The bearded man scoffs, "We know him, and have been chasing after him for years. Decades even. He is almost impossible to catch."

Pandora tilted her head with a smile on her lips. "And I plan on killing him."

"You will defiantly need help with that improbable task. If it is true that you're working alone."

She raised her right brow and nodded. "I am alone, and I will need help." Pandora grinned as she leaned forward. "We have a common enemy, and you know how the saying goes. The enemy of my enemy is my friend."

The bearded man scoffed slightly in disbelief, but she could see the slight amusement that danced in his eyes. "Are you suggesting an alliance?"

Pandora stood up and outstretched her right arm, "I'm saying that I want to work with you, and take down some bad men. Including Makarov."

He stared down at her hand, flickering between looking at her eyes and her hand. But then he smirked and grabbed her hand. 'Welcome to Kortac, Pandora. You've been hired."

She grinned beneath her mask. 

#könig call of duty #könig cod #König x oc #Amnesia #plots kinda funky #Not following campaign of cod #chapter 1 #weird brain hallucinations #all aboard the angst train #ex lovers #they'll meet again #kortac #original character #call of duty #Call Of Duty MW2 #COD MW2 #cod mw2 fanfic

[backjustforberena]

Please talk more about Cam and the bomb and how it relates to Bernie.

Okay *cracks knuckles* let’s get into this. It’s been a while since you sent this ask in, so sorry for the wait! But yes, as much as Cam’s descent into revenge and murder is weird as hell and not consistent at all, the fact that he goes out via a bomb is quite interesting to look at, just on it’s own. Both in how it’s decided by Cam, and the effect it has on Bernie- there’s a painful irony.

Although, I do want to preface by saying this whole thing was a radical escalation for Cam. Cam never committed outright murder. All his acts were done out of desperation and perceived need in order to get what he wanted or something along those lines. He wasn’t like Fredrik, shooting up the place or continuing his research knowing people would die. As far as I remember, a lot of his acts were letting his patients die, or engineering ways in which he could save their lives but it didn’t go right or SOMETHING. To go from not preventing Evan’s death to literally planting a bomb in order to kill people and hurt people... that’s a leap. But obviously, not the point of this ask. We can question the producer’s choices later.

As I’ll illustrate, I like that it’s a bomb, rather than something like a shooting like Fredrik. Not only would that really have been copycat, but a bomb as a method works well to highlight just how far Cam has fallen and how it all ties back to Bernie in the end:

That’s how he thought his Mum had died.

A lot of his reasoning, the things that he says to people, is about not being good enough or thought of as good enough, about being underestimated, about feeling undervalued, underappreciated, and unloved. Heck, his first episode, he tells Bernie, albeit sarcastically: “I’ve always been such a burden.” - well, now Bernie is the burden. Bernie is the shadow he can’t get away from. If he thought it was hard to live up to her when she was alive, it got a HELL of a lot worse when she was killed by a bomb. Even people who had never met Bernie would compare him to her, saying that he’d never measure up. 

Cam makes this bomb prior to knowing his Mum is alive. His original plan is to escape. Not to die. It’s to blow up AAU specifically and get away with it (I think - that episode is the biggest load of garbage actually, but that’s by the by). What he plans to do after that, who knows, but when he realises he’s stuck on AAU, he says I need to be on Darwin. Aka, on a ward that won’t be in the blast radius. I don’t know, there’s something very visceral about the idea that he’s specifically blowing up AAU which was a ward that he first came to, a ward that his Mum put everything into.

Essentially, it’s the closest thing he can get his hands on that represents Bernie. And he’s blowing it up. It’s not just a final act of revenge against the hospital and the people there, it’s also metaphorically blowing his mother up again. I think Cam probably tracks everything bad down to Bernie, in the end. And certainly that was where his arc truly began: with the news of her death.

He probably found out how to build a bomb, or at least began to accumulate that knowledge, due to his mother’s death.

This kills me a little bit. It’s easy to see Cam and be like “how the hell do you know how to build a bomb?” - in fact, Bernie does. She flat out does not believe it. But, you see, the thing is, is I’m pretty sure he knows because she “died” from one. We see, on screen, after Bernie is pronounced as MIA, him not sleeping and googling ‘possibility of surviving a bomb blast’ or something like that. How many steps would it take for him to be looking up how IEDs work? Not many, I’d wager, especially since be becomes so angry at Bernie. Ergo, the only reason he can do what he did is because of his mother. So... that’s a fun angle.

“You built a bomb?” “Your child.”

The bomb becomes an instrument to hurt Bernie with, not just physically, but emotionally. Think about it, her entire adult career, or most of it, was with the Army, fighting against terrorists and bad actors. She’ll literally spent over a year trapped and held hostage, forced to help a local militia who were certainly responsibly for the explosion that occurred in the airport hospital. She has intimate knowledge of this language of violence.

Bernie knows the types of people who build bombs, especially those that think themselves as righteous, as right, and who don’t care for the innocent people they harm in the process. Cam is forcing her not only to confront his own past actions (the things that landed him back in jail in the first place) but the reality of what he is now. It’s not just the fact that it’s her son that has chosen to be this destructive, it’s the fact that it’s HER son. Out of all people. 

Despite the sacrifices she made, the thing Cam took away from her career fighting terrorists... is how to become one. 

She tells Ric that she: “ate, breathed and slept this for four tours solid” - specifically on her experience dealing with blast injuries, shrapnel, amputations. Bernie has mentioned working on poor sods blown up by landmines, on seeing people reacting to watching their friends die, and  Cameron, by doing this, is attempting to invalidate all of that. He knows flat out that this hurts her, and it’s what he wants. Cam’s constantly prodding and poking and looking for any and all kind of reaction from his mother. 

So, yes, it hurts her because he’s on the side of the enemy now. And where blasts are concerned, he should know better. She should have taught him better. She should have raised him better etc etc. And he knows that just as well as her and that’s why he’s using it to cut her deep.

Bernie can not only visualise the damage he’s going to potentially do to people, but she can remember it. This is a woman who has been blown up twice before this. Her “sweet boy” has turned into something she can’t recognise, and he’s putting all the blame on her. Because all of this is because he’s “your [[her] child”.

His changed plan.

So, Cam’s original plan wasn’t to die. Then he’s like: okay, I’m going to die. Admittedly, he didn’t have much choice on the matter considering he was handcuffed to a bed with a bomb in the basement. But still, he thinks to do that and say that. And I think the reason he does it, as with everything, is because of his Mum. None of this is going to plan. People aren’t taking him seriously, he’s been hit by an ambulance, his mother’s alive and he has no power, no authority and no one looking at him telling him how clever he is. 

In fact, worse than that, his Mum is looking at him and saying she’ll support him. She’s pitying him. She’s saying he has a future, saying that the things he did are not so bad, no so big, not so momentous that it’s made an impact on how she feels about him (positive or negative, doesn’t matter, he doesn’t see it), and he has always HATED how she feels about him. Add to that his all-round sense of abandonment and hatred that he has towards his mother and her actions that made them both be where they are, and a good dose of self-pity because his future will be rotting in jail and never seeing his daughter...

Cameron says he’s going to die. That he intends to. And he’s so annoyed when he doesn’t die in the bomb blast. I’m almost certain I’m explaining this badly. I suppose the be all and end all is that Cameron dying is the thing that could hurt Bernie the most. What could hurt her even more was him choosing to die and making her live. And it’s all wrapped up in the idea that Cameron died the way that Bernie should have. Parents when their children die say things such as “It should have been me”- for Bernie... it could have been, back in Mogadishu.

#bad meta

[shipsgaysfordays]

Mary Mary Quite Contrary

So, I’ve realized that I have not posted the past 2 chapters to tumblr and only posted them to ao3, so just in case anyone was interested in my story Remus’ Descent Into What Can Only Be Called Madness, this post is the past 2 chapters

Links to other chapters here

Sirius' pronouns this chapter and moving forward are ze/zim/zer/zey because it just feels right idk man

Remus’ pronouns are still they/them

Also (I do this in all my ao3 posts but I’ve realized I don’t do it here) FUCK JKR AND HER TRANSPHOBIC, HOMOPHOBIC, RACIST, ANTISEMETIC, AND OTHER JUST GENERALLY HATEFUL RHETORIC

 Mary was the only person “alive” that it seemed that Sirius could turn to, their hands shaking as zey walked along the streets in shadows. Trying to slide along unnoticed as they approached closer and closer to what had to still be her address, it couldn’t have a new owner, she couldn’t live somewhere else, coincidence and consistency would be necessary for Sirius’ fate to turn out positive in any way. All their hopes came to these next few moments, as Sirius knocked on the wooden door, praying to anyone who could be out there that Mary McDonald still lives in the same flat that she did however long ago.

 He stared at the door, the mixture of warm lighter highlights of brown, deeper darker shades, the dim hall light hitting the door. They knocked once more, louder.

 “Alright, alright, I’m coming but you better not be trying to sell me shit.”

 Relief filled their bones for a split second as the magnetic voice of Mary hit zer eardrums. Followed quickly by a sense of panic because how the hell does one explain all of this.  

 In seconds the door is open, Mary staring out at the figure in front of her, before looking around and speaking hastily, “Get in here, now.” Though Sirius didn’t have much choice in this as Mary pulled them into the less than glamorous kitchen.

 “Mary, I need you to–” Sirius started.

 “I believe you, I trust you.”

 Sirius stared at her, puzzled as hell.

 “But…”

 “Nothing seemed to add up, you would never do that to Lily, let alone James, he was basically your brother except you two actually had a good relationship….sorry.”

 There were a few seconds of silence as she looked at them with what had to be pity and a bit of embarrassment on her own part, as she seemed to try to form the words for something.

 “Remus just….they let it get to their head, part of them broke and I don’t think they ever truly thought it through….they saw someone to blame and took the chance to do so,” Mary muttered, her stress and worry for the wolf visible as the lines that had grown into her face over the years.

 “I would have done the same,” Sirius sighed.

 “I tried–I tried so hard to get them to give up all of this fucking nonsense!” Mary shouted, waving her arms around, “...they just couldn’t see reason anymore.”

 “They’ll come around, when they find out the truth they’ll come around,” Sirius spoke, hoping that maybe saying it out loud would make it real.

 Mary’s eyes darted all around as they welled up a bit, “and…what is the truth, what happened? Who really–” her hand covered her mouth for a second, wanting to stop herself from talking about it or thinking about it, but she needed to find the truth, “who really killed the Potter’s?”

 “No one.”

 “Sirius, I’m not some child or damsel in distress and you are by no means a knight in shining armor, tell me the truth.”

 “I am,” zer voice pleaded.

 “So I’m just expected to believe the Potter’s died in a random accident and Dumbledore blamed it on you for fun?”

 “No, because they’re not dead.”

 For a moment Mary’s mouth gaped in disbelief, until her eyebrows shifted, her expression changed, and all that she could seem to feel was a sense of rage.

 “You mean to tell me that James and Lily still have a pulse, they’re still alive and well, that Harry celebrated his 5th birthday a few months ago? That you went to prison FOR NOTHING! That I had to go through the worst grief of my life and watch my closest friend breaking themself day in and day out all over this death THAT NEVER EVEN HAPPENED?!?”

 “Yes,” Sirius nodded, solemnly.

 Mary grabbed their face, looking for any sense that Sirius was lying, any clue, any reason not to trust them, but they had never been this great of a liar. At least not with Mary. She could recall observing the ways Sirius would stare at Remus when they were all still in the closet (what a big closet to hold every single marauder in it). Now their face seemed to show no lying, and they honestly wouldn’t have any reason to lie, it seemed, or maybe they had all the reason to lie and Mary was being naive. Remus would think she’s being naive.

 “Where are the Potters?” her voice was acidic.

 “I think–”

 “You THINK?”

 “Yes, my brain does have the capacity for thought,” Sirius jokes, hoping for just one second that things could be how they used to be.

 Mary gently shoves zer, “You and I both know that’s not what I mean, anyways, you don’t know for sure where they are?”

 “I can’t be certain, plans could have fallen through and anything really could have happened while I was in Azkaban. I think they could be somewhere in Siberia…or maybe the Yukon, but for all I know they could be in rural West Iowa. I wish I had my old notes or really anything to make me remember.”

 “Well…we can work on it, you’re out and safe enough. You can stay here, no one really seems all too concerned about your prison escape. Or at least the government doesn’t seem to care as much, everyone’s energy is in the war. Maybe it’s just that everyone thinks you’ve gone mad, or since Dumbledore knows what really happened he doesn’t think you’ll do much. Remus of course is still obsessed though, so–stay here, just to be safe,” she said the last part anxiously, almost afraid of speaking about them.

 “They’ll come around, they’ll see what’s happened and they’ll come around. Moony knows us, they just got a bit confused with all this time that’s happened,” Sirius says resolutely, eyes almost daring Mary to challenge zim.

 Remus had always had people thinking they’re a monster, they even talked about thinking it sometimes, but Sirius never thought Mary would think that. Never thought Mary of all people would be warning Sirius to stay away from Moony because they’re “a danger”.

....(this is where I had previously split the chapters)

 Sirius had been walking along the streets.Two days after the full moon, zer mind spoke. Two days after you were a coward yet again. The guilt of not seeing Remus weighed on Sirius, they weren’t ready to see zim, that much was made very clear, still they were likely in incomprehensible pain due to the whole monthly breaking apart of their bones in order to become a wolf only to then become a man about 8 or so hours later. A part of Sirius wanted to sneak into that flat they used to share, maybe Moony would be asleep, still ze couldn’t do that. If Remus really believed that Sirius….killed the Potters….then zim sneaking into their house would be terrifying.

 Mary had been telling zer to just stay in her house, to be careful and just wait on it. Remus had always had that part to them that was like a scared animal, always ready to pounce or run when necessary, rather thinking about their safety than being able to think through the whole situation.

 Despite all of this Sirius kept pacing around the flat, peering in for any glimpse of Remus. Moony would normally recover by now, or at least they used to,    Sirius thought, fumbling with their hands. I need to tell them something, I need to do something. I need to know they’re okay, they need to know I’m here for them. I need–    

 Sirius stopped their pacing as they caught sight of a lost dog poster, a picture of a familiar looking black dog displayed across the front  LOST DOG, “Padfoot” large black dog  (Remus had never been all that great recognizing with dog breeds),  7 years old  (they used to joke about Sirius having a mental age of 7, ze remembered)  If found contact 578-2857-48302 for reward.

 They really were trying to look for Sirius, they really were trying. A part of them wanted to give in, that idiotic part of them that still believed Remus would never actually want to hurt zem, that maybe if they just strolled into the flat it would all be okay, zey could wrap Remus in a blanket, feel their heartbeat next to zer and it would all be fine. But they had to try making peace with this current situation, that’s what Mary had been trying so hard to convince them both to do.

 Sirius ripped the lost dog poster off the lamp post and took one of Mary’s muggle pens from their pocket, quickly scribbling in their cursive like writing, “I love you still, I hear your screams at night and I wish I could help, but I know even this message may be hurting you more,” looking up every few letters to make sure they were safe standing there.

 Swiftly Sirius was back by that flat, staring at the door, just knock dumbass, a part of zis mind spoke, a different part arguing at the same time this was such a stupid idea. Still zer hand hovered by the wood door, remembering how terrible Remus’ headaches were around the moon, how loud noises bothered them so. Softly, in a way that made Sirius question if Remus even heard zem, Sirius tapped their knuckles against the door. As they heard movements, bones cracking and standing, Sirius stood in shock for a moment, a moment they likely couldn’t afford, but still a moment before quickly sneaking behind a wall, still staring at the door as they transformed into Padfoot. Now would be a great time for the invisibility cloak James, ze thought, almost praying that magically their friend would show up and all would be well, but this is no fairytale, good for Remus it isn’t a fairytale. Zeir mind filled with images of villainized wolves who blow down houses and eat grandmothers, until being brought back to reality with the sound of a creaking door. Calling Remus simply disheveled would be praise, Sirius hated to think it as zey observed the feverous man bending down and examining the note. Queerly, Remus had been staring at the front of the flier first, for a moment Sirius wondered if maybe Remus wasn’t the one who made it…but it was THEIR contact information on the sheet.

 Tears started to stream down Moony’s face, and all Sirius could do was stare. Stare at the salty water, at the red sickly face, at the new scars they had acquired over the years, the new scars they never should have gotten. Even when ill Remus is enchanting, Sirius thought, it was a thought ze had had many times before, but now more than ever zer eyes were glued to their face. Even as Remus looked around in paranoia, even as they retreated into the room and slammed the door, Sirius stayed observing. Silently wishing that they would come back out, just so ze could get another glimpse that close to Remus.

 Time seemed to pass by, very slowly, nothing truly seemed to be changing. Sirius tried to work on notes on how to undo this: possible locations of the Potter’s home, specific locator spells, ways to break the charms meant to hide them.

 Mary tried to help where she could, but it had been a while since she had been consistently doing magic, a part of her was afraid of being around it again. Maybe because of Marlene and Dorcus. Their deaths had hurt all of their friends, but Mary was always closer with Marlene, since they met on the train they could barely be separated.

 Mary seemed to be trying more to build a muggle life than anything else, Sirius overheard her talking with Remus about needing to move on. Would that really help Moony? Sirius wondered. She seemed to believe that if she had something else to focus on then maybe Remus would calm down about everything and begin to see reality.

 Though reality seemed to look different between the three of them. Sometimes Sirius would stay up at night, wondering if she really believed zim about James and Lily, maybe she’s just playing into this idea because she doesn’t want to hurt Sirius? There was always a tinge of doubt in her eyes whenever they talked about plans for finding their friends.

 On the outside it really did appear that Mary was moving on, that she was doing fine, that she had found some sense of happiness or at least normalcy again–but Sirius knew differently. Sirius could see the tears that fell down her face when she caught a glimpse reminding her of her friends, could hear the long sighs or even worse the sobs after the phone rang for minutes on end only to not be picked up.

 “Remus, sweetie I know this is hard, but please just call me back…I just want to help.”

 “Remus…you’re not a burden, I need you to know that. I’m here for you, you’re my friend, we only have each other left. Please.”

 “Remus I can’t keep doing this, call me back.”

 But they never did.

 Eyes red and puffy, Mary stared at Sirius, “I don’t think I can help them anymore,” her voice broke. Eyes darted away as she spoke lowly, “I don’t know if I can help you anymore either…”

 Sirius looked around for a moment, was ze being kicked out? Of course you are, you couldn’t expect this to last forever.  

 “I’m sorry for all of this mess, thank you for everything Mary, I can get my stuff–”

 “No, no, you’re misunderstanding. Stay, please stay, I just don’t think I can do much other than that to help you. I was never that amazing with spells, and I’m so out of practice, and I don’t think I can think about magic without seeing….her.” Oh.  

 “I understand…” Sirius held out zeir arms, moving slowly so Mary could back away if she didn’t want this, but she stayed still. And so Sirius held onto her.

 “Thank you,” she whispered.

       ….

     March, 1985  

 Sirius looked at the calendar, today was the day, the day that used to be filled with cakes and chocolates and kisses and pranks and Moony. Zis eyes continued to stare as zer mind went elsewhere, Remus would be spending another birthday alone.

 Truly alone this time, Mary had made the decision that she wouldn’t visit until she was called back.

     Sirius had decided that ze  needed  to leave a message for Moony and despite how easy it would be to simply use Mary’s phone, Remus wouldn’t be ready to find out about this whole situation going on. Before dawn Sirius left to find a random phone booth, hoping that zhe still would remember how a phone booth is used since it’s been years. After fiddling around with buttons and circular shapes and putting the phone handle next to zis mouth, finally zey spoke hoping this message would get to Moony.

 “Happy birthday Moony, I wish I could give you a present, or a kiss, but all I have are my words. Though I thought you might enjoy hearing my voice more, muggle phones still seem so incredible all these years later….Sometimes I wish you would discover where I hide, so maybe I could gaze deeper into your eyes. To see the anger, fear, or passion of anything through simply a glimpse into your brown pupils, into your soul. I saw tears that day in October, I hope I am still in your heart, my love.”

 Sirius let out a sigh, missing the person ze once loved, hoping that soon Remus could find out, that things might return to some sense of normal.

     After getting home Sirius stared at zeir maps, laid across Mary’s living room floor, it had become a pastime to stare at them, hoping that somehow a memory would come back into zis mind and zey would know exactly where the Potters were. Whatever thoughts came to zis brain ze tried, a million patronuses, letters to random locations, until they remembered a specific part of the spell that had been created all those years ago. The specific phrase “invenire vanum” needed to be stated, then Sirius could use magic to locate them once again.  

#the marauders #marauders era #the marauders era #sad marauders #wolfstar #wolfstar fic #wolfstar fanfiction #sad wolfstar #not cannon compliant #still sad #Remus Lupin #remus and sirius #Sirius Black #sirius angst #mary macdonald #remus' descent into madness

[mikami]

-I apologize, this is going to be a long mini rant, but your blog is like a safe haven, and I’m interested in your perspective. What THE HECK happened to Near? This no-nonsense, methodical boy with the sassy smiles and the thrill of the game is one of my favorite manga characters, and the follow-ups just… butchered him. Like, the manga ended on a nice note, he’s L, doing his thing. And then the bonus chapter added literally nothing.

-I wondered if the point was to show that he came into his own as Near!L as he did the most unlike-L!L thing possible, but did we really need that? And then came the one-shot and I fumed. This millennial boy who grew up with the technology doesn’t have plans and contingencies for instances like that, for people being untraceable through the internet? He hasn't evolved? How is this his defeat when he never even tried? And he wanted to MEET this guy? That’s not like Near. That’s MAYBE L. -And it bugs me fiercely that he’s not wearing socks and that he’s ‘mean like the old L.’ And he doesn’t’ smile. Like... How? Why?! I’d thought maybe Obha highlighted his less active approach, but Near DID act when he needed to in DN, he was just passive compared to L and Mello, so that doesn’t make sense, and he was doing fine for a decade anyway. I thought maybe he’s grown bitter but if you’re gonna introduce that, you have to go a bit deeper! -So now I’ve come to think that Obha simply didn’t know how to handle Near and resent it, bc if Near were to be involved, a)he’d solve the case, b)it would detract from Minoru’s ‘phenomenal brilliance’ (like CALM DOWN THERE, NEAR, YOU BEAT KIRA, and you’re so impressed by THIS?). This wasn’t about Near, and so his character got screwed in the process. Same goes for the Task Force, ffs, "oh noes a death note what to do!" Idk.. sth? ANYTHING? End of the mini rant, and thank you for your time <3.

I think Ohba definitely is going with the notion that the impact the Kira case had on Near in the long run is a negative one, yeah.

I'm... pretty neutral on the development myself, but I think the way it is intended to read is something like this:

In the finale, Near realizes with perfect clarity that he himself isn't enough to be L. Previously, he'd been perfectly down to work with Mello but overall thought of himself as up-to-the-task. But realizing that he would have absolutely died without Mello's proactiveness leaves him with a feeling of inadequacy that continues to haunt him.

This shows up in a very minor way at the end of the main manga, when Near is eating chocolate in tribute to Mello - or channeling Mello, maybe? With Mello gone, he has to somehow become both of them to be equal to the position that has been thrust upon him.

And the first oneshot elaborates on this feeling.

It ends on the visual representation of Near feeling overwhelmed by L, in L's shadow, crushed by the burden of his legacy.

Small small Near surrounded by a ton of giant Ls of his own creation, having to be reminded that the name is his own now and that he is allowed to make it so - but Near isn't sure he should. Because being just himself, working his own way, almost lead to disaster.

The warehouse incident has not left him without scars.

And the 2020 oneshot then leans into that perspective on Near even harder - like, as much as I adore the long hair design, I think the intent behind it is to make Near look unkempt and unmotivated.

The idea is that Near has never regained his confidence after the initial Kira case, never had the chance to regain his confidence because there was no comparable case whatsoever - and thus more than being incapable by nature, Near holds himself back out of perceived inadequacy compared to the more active players.

So... like the choice or not, I think it is at least an intentional character progression?

#answers #it makes me kinda sad #near should get fulfillment #and not be crushed by this job he doesnt even like that much

[obeymeluv]

Quick! Kiss Me! [Part 3 - Mammon]

Same rules apply from Part 2: thoughts are italicized and bolded. May be slightly NSFW because the boys have a crush on you and such. If anyone has suggestions for Asmo’s part or Belphie’s, I’m down to hear it. I kind of have one for Belphie but I feel it’s a little cliché.

Also, I’ve logged back in and started playing Obey Me! since I have a three day weekend and the “Are You Kidding Me?!” event is making me want to write those baby headcanons. Might do that next.

Mammon:

You’d been following a buzzing, bubbling sensation around the house. It was enough to make your teeth rattle at points and you wondered if one of the brothers were using shadow magic to stay on the fringes of your vision (or just out of it). Sometimes it would feel like you were right on top of it, your whole body feeling like loose change in a can, and just as quickly it would stop. The cold wash of going the wrong way was a welcome reprieve.

Exhausted, feeling like you’d lapped the house several times, you dragged yourself back to your bedroom. It wasn’t very romantic but at this point you’d had it! The only thing your poor brain could think of was texting them one by one and just kissing them. If you were honest with yourself, you wouldn’t even need to text all seven. If you were really honest with yourself, you just wanted to text one of them.

And he was in your bed, cuddled into your pillows and half-wrapped in your sheets like he was supposed to be there.

Was he asleep?

You resisted the urge to stomp your foot or startle Mammon awake. His jacket was tossed haphazardly over your small desk chair but his sunglasses had been placed with care on your nightstand. Mammon? You placed on knee on the bed, planning to crawl towards him from the opposite corner. Mammon tended to wake up swinging and flailing; you remembered Belphie yanking him off of “his” spot on the couch but not before he’d fluffed his pillow and took a defensive stance.

Your little brain tap was enough to make him snort and stretch but not open his eyes. Tanned limbs dragged themselves across twisted sheets. He sounded like he’d mumbled something but you couldn’t be sure. You were sure he’d scooped up another pillow to stuff his face in and squeeze to death.

Was that a giggle? Mammon gave a contented little hum, snuggling his face into the new, cool pillow. Mammon! you tried again. It was weird to speak with your brain. Could you raise your voice just by thinking it? You froze in the middle of the bed, Mammon snapping up with a slow blink and a confused slur (and a huffy demon gurgle).

If he wasn’t hugging the pillow, he probably would’ve swung his arms out or fallen out the bed and taken half the sheets with him. Mammon blinked again, his white brows furrowing as he scanned the room. He leaned forward and you barely remembered how utterly blind he was as you watched the sleep lift from blue-yellow eyes.

“So who was the lucky—“ Mammon started off in his fake ‘I’m not interested’ tone but the words died out before he could make them any more indifferent. “Your lips are still sealed shut.” he lurched forward, your noses practically touching. “Your lips are still sealed shut!” he whispered again breathlessly, the quickness of his words matching the excited pulse in his throat.

Mammon’s heart squeezed in his chest. His mouth dried and suddenly he couldn’t think of anything to say. This wasn’t how he thought your first kiss would be but Diavolo be damned if he’d turn it down! The demon could barely filter his desire for you, trying to keep the YES! GIMME! KISS ME, KISS ME! in his head and out of yours. His face started to heat up when the pact mark on your shoulder glowed a soft golden color, painting both of your faces in a candlelight-like glow.

The tiniest part of his awed brain could feel his mouth slipping open in shock. You were a vision with golden highlights. Golden highlights from his pact mark! It made him want to take you on a fancy restaurant date and see it again.

Mammon? you were waiting on him now, ever so careful. So considerate. That’s what he loved about you. You put up with a lot of his walls and his loud behavior but deep down you knew. He knew you knew, and he was glad you kept his secret.

The people who made the loudest echoes were often the most fragile. He was a giving heart that had been corrupted against his will, and he had not totally hardened with the fall. You saw those scars and chips and cracks and somehow healed all of it with your human hands. With your smile. Your touch.

Hell, you just saying his name could wipe centuries of suffering from his mind.

“Was I your first choice?” Mammon’s voice turned raspy and tight. He couldn’t bear to hear you say you’d gone to one of the others first. He’d seen you going from room to room, slinking around the house in a way only the second-eldest could master. Years of trying to slip out past curfew and make off with a few odds and ends no one would miss without getting caught had its perks. Watching you touch doors and turn halls gutted him and drove him to seek refuge in your room.

He’d consoled himself amongst your pillows—your scent—and tried not to cry. Even if you didn’t choose him, he’d still have you as a friend. Maybe an in-law. That didn’t stop the cold twisting in his guts or the burning anguish in his chest as he realized over and over that he was one of seven. The other six were better than him, he feared. He was just scummy, scummy Mammon.

You don’t think you are? You tilted your head as you looked at him, hands coming up to comb gently through his hair and massage the bottom of his ears. Your hands smoothed down his neck, drawing him into a hug that was just…very you. Comforting and genuine and wholesome. He felt it first physically, then emotionally as your pact mark burned a little brighter.

You dummy, it was so light, so teasing and gentle that Mammon couldn’t help but smile as you cupped his face and brought his lips up to yours. “Of course you’re my first choice. You’re my first man, aren’t you?”

Mammon realized you said that with your mouth--your open mouth—and he exploded into a rolling yayayayaya victory warble. His eyes were a molten yellow, almost as bright as Diavolo’s (maybe brighter). Tears beaded in his eyes and Mammon blinked them away, stuffing his face into your neck as he tackled you to the bed. A burst of heat rolled over you as his horns came out a hot skin touched yours, the demon greedily snuggling into like he’d finally found his home.

He was scenting you with all his snuggling and ‘settling’ but you didn’t mind, patting his back and running your fingertips across the seams in his black jacket. In all his ‘settling’ you’d been turned onto your side and scooped up by him. Mammon locked his arms around you, feet tangling with yours. He’d tucked you under his chin to keep you away from his horns. “I can’t believe you took so long!” he whined, fingers playing with your hair, “making me wait like that! I’m a busy guy, you know?”

“I can take your place if you’re so busy!” you saw a hint of Asmo in the doorway and probably Levi behind him before Mammon’s wing blocked your view. They’d been called by the noise Mammon made earlier.

“Get lost, the lot of ya!” Mammon flapped his free wing at them. He hugged you closer and you briefly wondered if this what a dragon did with their hoard. You laughed at the thought. “This is my human! And my human is spending time with their first man!” he’d made a little tent out of his wing, peeking down at you with pride and love and a little hesitancy that begged you to back him up because his embarrassment was outweighing his ability to run his smart mouth.

You responded by kissing his chest, little kitten kisses that climbed his throat and jaw and could definitely be heard with demon ears. Popping out from just under his wing, you pecked his lips. His nose just to catch him off guard. “It’s very personal time.” you teased, rubbing his shoulders as his wing unfolded to show you off, sitting happily atop your man.

There were scowls and little demon grumbles you’d never be able to understand, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t even hear them over the sound of Mammon’s purr.

#Obey me! x reader #Obey me! #Mammon #Mammon x Reader #Obey me! Mammon

[sissyjamieray]

My journey into feminization how did it begin? It is difficult to pin point a specific age, but I would guess I was about 11 years old. Yes, confused by sexual urges and excitement when looking at pictures of pretty girls in magazine ads wearing only panties and bras. Mmm, then 'borrowing' intimate female garments and wearing them. Feelng the overwhelming rush of pleasure and my first orgasm while wearing female clothing. Through the years I've tried to suppress this urges to dress as a woman. Being married was so frustrating as my wife left her intimate garments all over the house. It was like being in a candy store: bras, panties, lingerie all within reach. Unable to resist I would carefully try on bra or nightie when she was out shopping. At one point she mentioned something about one nightie being worn out in the "wrong" places. But she never questioned me. After all why would her man be turned on by wearing panties? Looking back she was very smart, she knew better than to confront me head on, lol. She knew I would not admit it or make up some bullshit story. She was very subtle, one night after making love she asked me if I had any sexual fantasies, my response was no love, none that I can think of. Another time she make the following comment, " I wish I had something to poke you with". Wow, she was so close. I was a bit stunted, didn't have a good response, lol. Several months later during our forplay love making she starts licking my nipples, omg, wtf!! Do you like it she says, with her hand on my growing manhood there was no escape, no denial. You like it don't you? I said yes, grasping for air and moaning as she began to rub the tip of my cock with her finger while continuing to lick and suck on my nipples. Then she slid her hand below my balls and started stroking and messaging the area just above my ass hole. After five minutes or this action she get up, pulls off her soaked panties then leans towards me with panties in hand and whispers in my ear, ' guess what I found in your bag Jim?' I found at least 10 pairs of my panties Jim, wtf all stained with your cum! "So you like to jerk off and cum in my panties, really?" What could I say but yes. I tried to explain why but she was upset? She then took her wet panties wrapped them around my almost limp manhood and said show me how you like you jerk off im my panties! I was so embarrassed, but I was wrong to have taken her things, this was my punishment, Yes? I reached down and started stroking my cock but it was very limp by now, I could not get hard. She saw my problem and whispers in my ear, "what's the problem, sissy panty boy, can't jerk off in front of your hot sexy wife? never touch my things again!, if you do, you will never fuck or cum inside me again. Do you understand me? Yes, hon I understand, good. Now where are my panties, Uh where you put them dear, yes they are yours now. Uh, keep them clean and if you wear these out (giggle) we will go out together and buy you more. Yes, I'll let the pretty sales lady know my size and yours (giggle). One more thing, when we make love, make sure you are wearing a clean pair of lacy pink panties. You are my panty boy husband now (giggle). I guess you better learn to get excited and hard while wearing female panties or you will never fuck me again (giggle): panty boy. Next day I after work I set out the task of hand washing 'my' panties in hope of getting lucky later that evening. Ok, hot water and some laundry soap and a 15 minutes soak, rinse and then toss into the dryer should to the trick right? Right before we went to bed I quickly grabbed my panties and climbed into bed. My wife had been observing my laundry duties activities that evening and I assumed we were cool. My hopes of an evening of

having sex where dashed when she turned the lights on stating: it's panty check time, stand up and let examine your feeble attempts to clean these! Ok, I can still see your nasty stains, what temperature did you wash these in? Hot I relied, she laughed, you idiot you should have used cold, as now you've 'set' the stain and ruined a pretty pair of panties. Oh well I guess we will have to go panty shopping tomorrow. Maybe Victoria's Secret? I understand Nancy, your friend Mike's wife just started working there (giggle), maybe she can let us use her discount? She then put her hand on my softening member and said, 'well give it some thought, panty boy, good night. WTF, now she is straight up trying to sexually blackmail me and expose me really? I got out of bed headed for the bathroom sobbing, how could my sweet wife be so cruel. Fifteen minutes or so she knocks on the door, " Jimmy are you ok"? No I'm, how could I be ok when you want to humiliate me and expose my fetish to my friends? Oh you admit it now that you are little perverted panty stealing panty boy? Her words cut me through me like a knife, but she was right. Stand Jim, look at yourself in the mirror wearing my soiled panties, tell me baby who and what did I fall in love with? Then she placed her had on my limp cock and said, I love you but tell me about all your fetishes now or we are done: confess! I'm not going to play a guessing game with you understand! Sobbing, I began to spill my guys about how was molested by an older boy at 11, my Aunt confessed to dressing me as a girl when I was very young,

dressing my mothers lingerie. Yes, I've have fantasies about being fucked my a man while being dressed as a woman. With years in my eyes I looked at my wife, what she was crying too? Why are you crying I asked? I'm so sorry that so many people have hurt you babe and that you are so fucked up now. Maybe we can both get into therapy, you know get some professional help? But for this moment, let's promise to be more open and honest with our sexual feelings and desires ok? Babe I'm sorry I got do angry with you but you did sneak my panties? I had no idea that my panties turned you on so much to the point that you would willing wear them? She started rubbing my pantied cock as she spoke, you know Jim, have a little fantasy of my own. What she whispered in my ear next blew me away. Jim, sometimes I think about being with a woman, coddling and fondling each others breasts? Jim, I, I think I might be Bi? I sorry I've never shared this with you but you understand right ? At that moment, my cock began to swell, she got her answer. Now pulling my panties down she began licking the very backside tip of my cock, you know Jim, maybe I will be willing to support you, like helping you dress like a lady, apply make up and maybe if you wish be with a man as a woman. With these words I erupted a stream of thick sperm all over her beautiful face. Wow, that was fast hon, you agree with my suggestions? Awesome, now for your first lesson Jamie, lick up all the cum you sprayed over my face. Yes, play the part bitch you need to learn to love the taste of your cum. Yes, your female name is Jamie now, do you like it? That's right clean me up, good gurl. Now it's my turn to be pleasured, now be a good lesbian bitch and eat my sweet pussy, XOXO.

Chapter 2 The List

The next morning Carol, my wife was up early and out of the house without waking me. No breakfast or coffee, man that woman be slipp'in, I thought. Well, what looks good in the frig? Oh man, lookie here, a heart shaped note from wifey. [Hi Jim I went shopping with Margie this morning, not sure when I'll be back but, please pickup the following items at the corner drug store:

tampons, pantyhose, nail polish (pink), eye shadow base & palate, concealer, face primer, eyeliner (water proof), mascara, blush, bronzer, highlighter, lip gloss, cosmetic brush set, foundation, setting spray and pamprin. Jim, if you need help just ask the salesgirl in

cosmetics, you know the one you always flirt with, you know Desiree, giggle. Oh and make sure you are wearing the pink lace panties that I let in your drawer. They are yours now, Jamie. Love Carol XOXO, P.S., I've invited some friends over for dinner so please be home by 4 pm.] Groan, I HATE shopping, especially for girl stuff! Ok, so off to drug store I went, stright to the cosmetics counter, list in hand. There she was, Desiree behind the counter, may I help you, she asked? Desiree was the gorgeous offspring of Spanish and Irish parents, about 5' 9" light green eyes and light brown to blonde hair. Her makeup was always impeccable, skirts and blouse always tight and ample cleavage on display. Carol was right that I did flirt with Desiree in the past, but Carol was always with me. It was different now, I was alone and what she possibly thinking? I mean, Carol had always shopped for her own cosmetics and fem items? Looking into her eyes my mind went blank, dry mouth, etc. I handed her the list and mumbled, my wife needs this stuff and I have no idea. Sure, no problem, I can get these for. Carol is your wife right? Yeah, she was in earlier, something about a need for a change and wanted you and I to help her with a make-over surprise. I can help you with every thing on the list except the tampons, their in aisle 12. Oh, and I'll need your help with selecting the foundation shade to ensure a good color match. Ok, what ever I said, I'll be back with the wifey's tampons in a couple minutes. As I walked away, Desiree's last words, "color matching" stuck in my head... Carol's skin tone was much lighter than mine? Mmm, aisle 12, ok here we go, no idea really what to buy my wife, so many confusing choices. I must have been searching for the correct tampons for at least 15 minutes when Desiree found me. Hi, need some help? Absolutely? I have no idea what she needs. Laughing at my ignorance of feminine hygiene products, explained that Carol would at minimum need pads and most likely will need a tampon for her 'heavy' period flows. My suggestion is get her both. Is so sweet and thoughtful of you to do pick these up for you wife, I'm sure she appreciates it. Now let's go go back to the cosmetic department and I ring up your items? Sounds like a plan, I said. Ok, let's try this new foundation shade shall we? Desiree reached for my hand, this was a new level: physical contact. I could feel my heart beating faster, well if well if you have to I said? Desiree, her hand still gently touchind my hand, looked me in the eyes and said, Jim, it is necessary to be sure we get an accurate match and you do want to please your Wife don't you? Yes, of course I want to make Carol happy. Well good, smiling as she applied the foundation to my hand Desiree said, you know Jim, it's not like anyone's going to make assumptions about your sexuality. I mean, why would a handsome stud like you want to wear make up? Ok, of course your are right, I told her. Oh, awesome Jim, this color is perfect. Carol will love it.

Great what is the final damage for all this, I asked? Sure, your total comes to $75.65. Ok, wow this stuff sure adds up fast! Ok here's $76, as Desiree handed back my change she dropped a dime. Oh, so sorry, no problem I said bending over to retrieve .10 cents and at that moment exposing my pink lace thong panties in full view of Desiree. So humiliating, I was speechless. Desiree with a big smile handed me my merchandise but me close and whispered, I love a man who likes to embrace his feminine side, Carol is so lucky.

Chapter 3 - No Refunds, No Returns

So I returned home with all the cosmetics Carol had on your list. She met me as I entered our apartment with big hug, then said that she had to leave again. No big deal, but asked me to read a letter she had written to me. Ok, problem, writing letters was something we did when we first started dating. Jim, l'll be back in about 2 hours, so please read my little ' love' note before I return. One more hug as she felt up my ass for the outline of the thong panties, still wearing them I see? Good, I so happy you did, it says you respect my wishes. I am going to make you so happy you did. Then she kissed me deeply and left without saying where she was going? Oh well, now where is this letter? I found Carol's letter on my pillow, she started, my Dearest husband, tonight I will make your fantasy of being a woman a reality. Don't deny it Jim. I found your hidden stash of female undergarments, shemale porn, etc. Really, why did you NOT trust me enough with your kinky desires? No matter, I know now and I still you move than you realize. Tonight I will give your fantasy, but know this our relationship will change. The changes will be (giggle) sort of a role reversal? To start: take a nice hot bubble bath, yes use mine girly stuff XOXO. Next, use my sugar rub all over your body to exfoliate your skin and then shave all your body hair, yes lov, your arms, legs, chest, balls and ass. Next raise in with cold water

and gently dry ourself. Next, hydrate your skin with some lotion be liberal with it. Now Jim, you don't have much time left so get started. Oh, once your done with this bathing routine, look in your drawer and closet. Yes I picked out some cute girly things for you to wear love XOXO. Make sure you are wearing each item when I return? If NOT, trust me You will sorely regret it!! But I know you will be a Good girl for your wife, your Mistress now won't you? And don't act like you don't know how to put on a bra, panty hose, corset, or breast forms. Please Sissy, remember I know what you've doing when your alone and I'm at work. You see I also found your pictures lol. Well, no more secrets BITCH! I demand you to be ready for me to apply your make up and wig when I return. No excuses! Yes dear, I will be fully shaved and dressed when return. Ok, good, I will be at 7 pm sharp! Out of fear and excitement I started drawing my bubble bath. While the tub was filling I looked into the closet and drawer to see what my wife had purchased. My sweet wife had filled my drawer will so many pretty panties and bras all different styles and colours. These were all mine, really? Wow, what was in my closet? Just a quick peek, so many cute skirts, dresses and tops, all mine? Ok, time was slipping away and the tub was nearly full now. As instructed, I soaked in the fraguent bubble bath for a half hour so relaxing then scrubbed every inch of my body possible with a sugar exfoliate scrub. I then covered my body with a girly shaved cream and shaved my legs, arms, chest, groin, balls and ass. I then showed in cold water to rinse off the remaining shave cream. As I dried my body off the scent purfume and softness of my now hairless body caused me to feel so girly/ feminine, excited and horny. I resisted my base urges to pleasure myself and pushed on to getting dressed as it was almost time for my wife to return. So many panties so many choices, will of I selected a cute pink lace thong panties with matching bra and garter belt. Slipping the panties on another temptation to pleasure myself. Not enough time, 6:30 pm, still had to put on the breast plate and corset. I secured the 38 D breasts to my chest using the medical grade adhesive. Looking the mirror was a bit of a let down, so much work and I still looked like a man, a man with big breasts and small waist. I was nearly in tears when I heard the front door open, Carol would be coming in bedroom any moment and I was pretty much half naked. I quickly grabbed a blouse, skirt and heels got them on and posing on the bed, just as door opened. Knock, knock... omg Jim, Carol told me to just let myself in, that my make over project would be sitting on the bed. It was Desire, Carol WTF!! I was humiliated once again, I began sobbing uncontrollably, why Carol, why? Desiree gave me several tissues to dry tears. I don't understand, why would do this? She came closer and hugged me. I never been this close to Desiree or so absolutely vulnerable before. She knew just like Carol that I was to be a sissy no denial. Jim, she said, Carol is giving you a gift, this is what you want really. Carol loves you didn't understand or how to help you experience being a girl. I can sweet heart. Yes, Carol may have, did violate your privacy by sharing your sissy feelings with me but I agreed to help you both. She then kissed me on the lips and said go wash away those trears hon and let's transform you into a beautiful woman. Before she applied my make up she asked me to remove my skirt and blouse, something about not getting any make on my clothes, ok made sence? Desiree was wonderful explaining the fairly complicated process of applying the various types make up, contouring, eye shadow, liner, etc. I almost forgot that I was half naked inches away from a gorgeous woman. The scent of her purfume and beautiful cleavage got the best of my unrestrained manhood. Desiree noticed my problem and said, I see you are getting turned on baby? You like it that I'm feminizing don't sweety? Oh of course you do

#feminized husband #xdress #embrace your femininity