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#a home among wolves
fitzefitcher · 1 year
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cringe is dead. post cringe
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movies-tv-more · 6 months
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Movie Releases for November 28, 2023
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leolaceri · 2 years
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@matchedrage : We make the rules and we can always change them.
The words seem to flow past, carried by a breeze and thrown from lips he’s so often traced with his own only to be crushed underneath the weight of waves that throw themselves against the shore. For the briefest of moments Jaime longs to follow them, to vault over the walls of their summer prison until the tumult of water and salt steals the breath from tired lungs ... but instead he only offers a scoff in response, a huff of breath meant to offer neither agreement nor a comment to invoke his sweet sister’s wrath. 
“You sound like father.” Fingers tighten on the sun warmed railing, relishing in the burning of metal against palm that reminds him he is alive, that Lannister or no, he can still feel pain. It’s comforting, he thinks, to know you can still bleed. Golden haired and golden son, his father had once spoken of their family being akin to Gods and Jaime had poured over countless tales of Greek deities and hopeful heroes that they had sent to their deaths. Tywin Lannister presumed himself Zeus and Casterly Rock was their Olympus. It would be better, the lion of lannister imagined, to be one of the heroes - welcomed to rest in a crash of war and glory. 
Now, green eyes flick in Cersei’s direction and Jaime shifts his weight, straightening once more as she comes to stand beside him. A spell of ill health, the papers had claimed. An entire column in the city papers devoted to why Robert Baratheon’s wife had disappeared so unexpectedly and a carefully constructed letter of ill intent that had led to the order of her twin being sent to accompany her. Someone they could trust. A laugh bubbles out of his chest at that ridiculous notion, at the imagined expression on that fat oaf’s face if he ever learned the truth of how much his sister trusted him - but that hollow ache soon returns, that remembrance that she would always be Jaime’s sun, while he remained nothing but a shadow in the corner of her painting.
“I met someone.” There. It’s out before he can stop it, and the lannister can all but feel the slide of steel between his ribs, that icy stare of his twin’s gaze. He moves, turns until they’re face to face and green gaze can hold one so alike in color to it’s own, sets his jaw against any insult or curse she might throw at him. “You can’t expect me to stand at your whim forever.” The die is cast, though to what end he can’t begin to hope. Fuck power, he wants to scream. Fuck father, fuck Robert Baratheon, fuck those golden haired brats that will never truly his or mine. But instead he takes a breath, feels that steady beat of the heart beneath his ribs - one, two - and throws her words carelessly back at her.
“We make the rules...and we can always change them.”
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jimmythejiver · 4 months
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So Ang aka Recapkid aka Handsome Hugs aka whatever the fuck they calling themselves now* poisoning the discourse while doing exactly in rl what his art portrayed (allegedly) is why we don't get to have nice shit in ZADR fandom anymore, huh.
*My knowledge of Rek/Recapkid saga ended initially when they first made their first dramatic exit in fandom. Everything after is what I had to track down to verify tonight.
#there'll always be wolves among the sheep and obviously fuck your fandom if it hurts people yada yada#idk what to believe but it is apparent something is not right with ang beyond drawing sick cartoons#i've seen them get harassed and bullied years ago and they were toted as a fandom martyr#but i don't have a reason anymore to think the alleged abuse accusations about them is false anymore#and perhaps their victims did retaliate in such a way to ruin their life and have them lose their job health insurence#but by not taking the end of life care and persist to taunt them and play victim ang has made their case look worse and indefensible#that no matter how you slice it no matter what ang has went through and what they did or didn't do to these people they created bad optics#i predict we're going to get another monster ballooned into a bigger monster here and no apology or accountability#this person is like if chris chan had gotten nearly as far as john k. in terms of legitimacy and cult of personality#i'm not being glib if the full story is true#they were exposed time after time but kept muddying the waters like an abuser does by calling their victims the abusers#and people eat it up as lies spread around the world before the truth can put its shoes on#and then leave truth freezing in the rain when it's already not welcomed as lies makes itself at home with your hot cocoa and blanket#i was never invested in rek as i knew od rhen as a person like i saw so many in fandom were#but i see what looks like a bullying campaign and condemned that#but now i have to question if they staged the bullying and exit for sympathy points to fit a narrative#because no former child turned adult would doggedly follow around their abuser from account to account#because they stumbled upon or hacked their adult account and were traumatized to vengeance and decided they need to ruin lives#no it is because ang or rek or whatever couldn't fucking disappear for real and stop bothering these people and prey upon some new ones#again allegedly and just my opinion#idk the real facts than the they said she said of it all
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proxycrit · 4 months
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If this man has to haunt me, he has has to haunt you.
Meet Sweaty. He’s a 42 year old absol and lives with his human mom in Castelia, Unova.
Some Absol headcanons:
I do think part of why Absols have such a bad rep among people is partially due to folklore of them appearing before and after horrific disasters, but also because they have such a human face. Imagine seeing this mf in the dark woods watching you. Something that looks human, but is not. Something that sounds human, but is NOT. Follow this by a horrific landslide.
Do you see the problem. Humans remember human faces. Predators sometimes mimic their prey. Absols have the truly unfortunate evolutionary quirk of falling into both categories.
So yes, there was a huge stigma against absols which led to a pretty severe population decline.
In modern day (much like wolves), Absols have become media darlings, in large thanks to a the help of pokemon rangers who utilize Absol’s ability to sense weather as an indicator when to evacuate. They are a very long lived species and need lots of intense exercise, often declaring huge swaths of land as their personal territories. Absols also tend to get very anxious when they feel they do not have enough space, so keeping them with other pokemon’s usually a no no.
Sweaty’s mom used to be a pokemon ranger and found Sweaty stuck in a refrigerator. Nowadays, she lets him free roam—much to the chagrin of every other person in the area. Sweaty in turn makes himself a nuisance to the local icecream store, begging for treats.
(The kids love him. He comes home with ink and paint stained everywhere and it’s a nightmare to clean.)
Hate my human faced monstrosities? Thank @tjs-stuffs for this. Ciao!
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millionsnife · 1 year
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tag dump 2 tba
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sinizade · 17 days
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Pam, The Necromancer Druid
Class: Druid (Necromancer subclass)
Normal Tav (evil ending)
Romance: Minthara
Besties: Midnight/ Scratch/ Owl bear
Pam used to live with her parents in the middle of nature, as druids they always taught her the way of Sylvanus and his ways so that nature always remained in balance, but since then the girl has demonstrated a spirit that is indifferent to life beyond animals, people have always been the source of her main contempt no matter what race they are. The girl always used to stay away from even her own parents, preferring to stay among animals and, no matter how hard her parents tried, they could never make her comfortable in her own home.
Her adolescence was lonely as she decided that the best way to please herself and her parents would be to leave home, she started to live in small huts that she used to set up in the middle of the forest and honestly, she lived well without being forced to. to live with all the stress that I experienced when I was forced to live with other people. Most of her time she spent in her wolf form, hunting, helping them, being part of a pack. Talking to some wolves she managed to be convinced that her place was with the people, as much as they loved her and she loved them, she should go back to her people and try to have a good life beyond the forest. Baldur's gate wasn't pretty, it wasn't pleasant, the smell of that place made her want to vomit and there were a lot of people who looked at her as if she were some kind of monstrosity, of course, she was dirty, half-naked and aggressive, but it wasn't a reason to treat her. her as a monstrosity, but the real monstrosities emerged when she saw a ship in the sky.
Pam is now forced to live with this bunch of chatty misfits, the only one who doesn't lose her patience in that environment is Lae'zel who only says what is necessary so that everyone there can at least get out of this situation alive and without becoming Illith, but that sanctuary, those refugees... That made her furious, how dare those hellish creatures? How dare a druid tarnish the sanctuary like that? She needed to get them out of there, she needed to end Khaga's existence and at first allying with that drow seemed like a good option... She was charming Pam needed to admit that, but she would never forgive herself if she killed those hellish creatures for no reason at all. Your best option was to eliminate Khaga in the bud, killing her and the shadow druids who were on her side, as for Minthara? She wouldn't be a problem if all that goblin scum were dead so Pam just knocked her out so she wouldn't cause any more problems. Her conscience didn't weigh as much as she thought it would, she actually felt relieved and after that massacre in the Grove she received even more relief from Minthara who seemed to develop an interest in her.
Minthara was right, what would be the point of going so far and not taking something in compensation? What's the point of almost dying so many times in exchange for nothing? Pam understood that that choice would weigh later, but she couldn't- She shouldn't allow people to destroy anymore... Being the Absolute would give her the power to improve things in her vision, improve life, improve the forest, with her beloved Minthara by her side, Pam would now have the power to take it all and finally bring true balance to nature.
Some extra information about Pam
Pam's grandmother was a Nymph
Pam can use her blood to create any type of plant and managed to improve this by studying necromancy, starting to use the blood and bodies of other people.
Pam's first time was with Minthara
Pam has a pet crow named Midnight
I also made a small time lapse of this art and posted it on my Twitter in case anyone wants to see it!
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bungalowbear · 8 months
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Wolves of Tokyo: Savage Good Boy
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Pairing: alpha!Fushiguro Toji x omega!f!reader
Summary: Pressured to choose a husband, you make a rebellious choice after a stranger comes to your rescue.
Warnings: abo dynamics, misogynistic themes, some violence, creepy alphas, love hotel, smut (fingering, p in v, knotting), biting, mutual bonding, mdni
Word Count: 8.5k
A/N: Here goes my first nosedive into abo. This is going to be a whole series with different jjk men and their readers. First up is Hana! But even though I’ve given her a name it’s more to make writing/reading easier the further along we get. I try to be as inclusive as I can therefore there are no physical descriptions, so anyone can read and hopefully picture themselves. Enjoy!
Series Masterlist / Playlist
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There are many wolf clans in the city of Tokyo. But the Gojo, Kamo, and Zen’in families stand above all others. Power, wealth, and status are the pillars that have supported them for generations.
Your family is less prominent, just one rung below, though sought after for its long history of birthing powerful and gifted offspring. A blessing, your father says, the heavens bestowed upon your clan. But you’ve only ever regarded it as a curse.
Not only do you have the unfortunate luck of being born a woman, but also an omega. You’re even more unfortunate to have been born to your father, the head of your clan and the one forcing you into an arranged marriage.
“Do you know how many omegas would kill to be in your position?” he asks, voice tinged with frustration.
“Probably, like, a ton.”
You’re upside down on the sofa, legs hanging over the back and face looking out through the floor to ceiling windows of the living room. Your father’s penthouse offers an enviable view of the city. Among the patchwork constellations of lit windows of office buildings, you marvel at Tokyo Tower, turned upside down from your position, shining in all her glory.
“And yet you treat this with such contempt?”
Your father’s voice interrupts your city gazing. You hear his heavy footsteps echo against the hardwood floors as he comes to block your view. You refuse to raise your eyes to him, already familiar with the image of his crossed arms and rigid posture when he scolds you.
“Forgive me, father,” the words roll off your tongue dry and indifferent, “for not being so eager to sell myself off like some prized cattle.”
“You can’t keep pushing this meeting off,” he argues. “The other clans are getting restless. Soon they won’t be asking, but demanding.”
You roll your eyes and sit up so your feet are planted on the floor and your head is upright again. This time you turn your gaze up at your father, not cowering under his stern expression.
“You realize we don’t care about any of this, right? Satoru and I have been friends since we were children, and we both agree this is so archaic. Choso spends more time at that animal shelter than at home.” Your hands clutch the edges of the seat. A sour taste settles on your tongue. “And I’d claw my own eyes out before marrying Naoya. He’s the only one you’ve all successfully indoctrinated into this misogynistic bullshit.”
Pushing off the couch, you stride past your father and plant yourself beside the window. You pull your legs against your chest and rest your head on your knees. Your father’s footsteps come closer. His hand reaches toward your head and gives you a gentle pet, but you shake him off and scoot further away.
“What am I going to do with you?”
You can hear fondness creeping in his voice, but you won’t allow it to sway you.
“How about not forcing me to marry someone I don’t want to,” you quip.
Your father sighs.
“Our clan has kept itself alive and thriving for generations through marriage pacts. If we—”
“Maybe we don’t have to anymore,” you interrupt, looking at him with imploring eyes. “It’s a new time, father. Things are different now.”
“Not for us.”
He looks at you like you’re a child again. A sad smile that suggests you don’t understand anything about the way the world works. But you do know, and it’s not a world you want to live in anymore.
You and Satoru talk about the changes you want to make within the top clans. And you’re committed, you want to see it happen, but sometimes it seems impossible. At times you feel so small and so lonely. As a male alpha, Satoru doesn’t fully understand your fears, just like you don’t his. And you know he gets insecure like you do. The only difference is that he has someone to confide in, to support him unconditionally. You don’t. Which is why it’s so important for your husband to be someone of the same mind as you. Not someone who will keep you trapped underneath his thumb.
“If mother was here she’d be on my side.”
You huff, burying your head in your arms. You feel the warmth of your father next to you as he comes closer again. This time when he puts his arm around you, you don’t move away.
“If your mother was here she’d want you to make a smart decision.” He speaks with a sorrow you can’t fully comprehend. You lost a mother, but he lost a wife. A mate. “She’d want you to be protected and provided for. Each of the clans is offering that.”
“Wouldn’t she also want me to be happy?”
He chuckles. “You’re just like her.”
You lift your head. He stares at you with glassy eyes.
“Beautiful and wise,” he says. A loving smile curves his lips. “And stubborn.”
Your father’s expression turns somber. You already know what he sees in your face, in every feature that composes your physical identity. You see it every time you step in front of a mirror. A near identical copy of your mother. A living, breathing reminder that she once walked the earth, long enough to give you her likeness.
“I miss her,” you say, dropping your head onto his shoulder.
“So do I.”
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You make sure your father is asleep before leaving the apartment. You close the door carefully behind you and take the elevator to the lobby. It’s nearly midnight, the usual time you step out, and your neighborhood is as you anticipate, quiet.
The walk to the train station is quick. You tap your fare card on the reader and head underground to catch the last local train to Shinjuku. You’ll most likely have to take a cab home, but you’ll figure that out later. Conversations with your father always leave you mentally drained and the only thing you can focus on right now is getting your hands on some yaki udon.
Once you arrive at your station, you exit up the stairs and onto the street. The diner isn’t far so you keep your head down and let your feet lead you along the familiar route.
It’s a bit crowded for a Thursday but you don’t mind. You can blend in better. Disappear among the mixed scents of the other designations that crowd the sidewalk. You mostly catch the sweetness of omegas in the air. They travel in groups and you assume they don’t have mates of their own. It’s rare for an alpha to allow their mate to be out this late. Thankfully, you don’t have that problem. Not yet, at least.
You’re not sure how long you can keep stalling your father. You understand he pressures you only because he’s pressured by the other clans, but you don’t understand why he doesn’t just stand up to them and refuse. You don’t know what he’s so afraid of. He’s already been through the worst time of his life.
The death of your mother was the lowest point not only for you and your father, but also the entire clan. Only with her absence were you able to realize the influential woman she was and what she meant to the other branches of the family. Their support through your grief and your father’s brief depression, their unwavering loyalty and devotion, their presence the purest form of unconditional love, was the foundation your mother built that gave the clan a foot to keep standing on.
You and your father had endured your mother’s death with the clan by your side. When the mourning period ended you promised yourself you would be a leader worthy of your family name in return for their support. You’d be as resilient as your father, and as influential as your mother.
But the only way you can achieve that is through the right opportunity. Clearly your father won’t be the one to make one happen for you, so you have to find it yourself.
A voice calling out stops you in your tracks. As your mind clears itself of your previous thoughts your ears listen for the voice again. You look over your shoulder at the opening of a dark alley and wait. After a few seconds you hear the same cry for help.
You backtrack a few steps and peer into the alley. Cautiously, you enter and follow the whimpering sounds and scared scent of an omega. There are several overhead light posts lining the walls, and it’s beneath one of those lights you see a woman cowering beneath two burly men with her hand pressed against her red cheek. She peers between the two with tears in her eyes and finds your gaze, relief pouring out of her as if you’re an angel come to her rescue.
“Hey!”
You shout, too fast for you to think about the consequences. But it gets their attention and gives the omega the opening needed to get away. One of the men tries to grab her but she quickly evades him and sprints away toward the other end of the alley.
“Big mistake, girl.”
They turn to you and you realize too late that they’re both alphas. Angry and irritated alphas. And you’re alone with them.
You try to make your own escape, but a harsh grip on your arm pulls you back. You’re shoved against the wall and the space is too narrow to put any distance between you and the increasingly overwhelming spicy tang of their combined scents that fill your nostrils.
“What do we have here?” The one that holds you in place has shaggy brown hair. He inhales deeply, closing his eyes with a salacious grin. “Another little omega to play with?”
In the brief moment his eyes are shut, you shift your feet so that your right foot is slightly behind your left. Using all the force you can muster, you thrust the palm of your right hand up and into his nose. He steps back with a shout, hands flying to his face as blood trickles out between his fingers. The other man steps around his friend and roughly pins your shoulders to the wall.
“A feisty one, eh?” His bald head shines beneath the light post as he leans in close. He takes a good whiff of you. “Doesn’t matter. I can smell how scared you really are. A little sour mixed in with all that sweetness. Just how I like it.”
His nose inches toward the sensitive gland on your neck and your body revolts. You’ve acted mostly on instinct so far, but you’re intentionally defiant as you gather a pool of saliva in your mouth and spit it all out onto his face.
“What the—” He jerks back, wiping away your attack with the back of his hand. An angry growl crawls out of his throat as he raises a hand to strike you. “You little bitch.”
You shut your eyes, waiting for the sting of his palm to sharply make contact with your cheek.
But it never comes.
Your eyes open and your brow furrows at the hand hovering in mid air above your face. When your gaze lowers you realize it’s because another hand has it locked in place.
You didn’t hear him, couldn’t even sense him approach, but this new person is no doubt another alpha. Your lips part in awe at the size of him. He’s massive, towering over you and the others. His broad frame is intimidating and his arms and chest are barely contained beneath the fibers of his plain black t-shirt.
The bald alpha tries to pull away but the grip he’s in is too strong. In a flash, your savior turns him around with a yank of his arm and sends a powerful kick to his backside. The smaller man goes flying forward onto his hands and knees. His friend with the still bleeding nose helps him up from the ground, and they both turn back to the giant of a man now standing between you and them.
“What the hell, man?” the bald one complains. “This has nothing to do with you.”
“Now it does.”
The deep timbre of your savior’s voice makes your knees shake. It suits his powerful presence and makes you thankful he’s on your side.
All three alphas seem to be locked in a staring contest. But while the two become visibly nervous the longer it goes on, their opponent’s cool expression doesn’t waver. He folds his arms and his muscles strain against the short sleeves of his shirt. The two others seem to come to a decision and start backing away. They spare you a quick glance, and your savior a scowl, before they turn and escape down the alley.
You watch from behind the alpha’s frame until the two round the corner and are finally out of sight. Letting out a sigh of relief, you step away from the wall. But it’s short lived when the remaining alpha turns his sharp gaze on you.
“Be more careful next time you decide to play hero, yeah?”
His shirt looks too small for him, and you wonder if it’s on purpose to show off his insanely fit body. You notice a hole in the left knee of his sweatpants that sit low on his hips and the white socks dusted brown with dirt slid into a pair of black slides. Your gaze snaps up to his face and zeroes in on the scar at the corner of his lip, then to the black strands of hair that fall in his face, shading a pair of emerald green eyes. You decide that despite his semi-homeless presentation he’s actually very attractive.
“Thanks,” you say. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
He looks down his nose at you, appraising you like you just did him. You wonder what he sees. You wonder if the smirk that pulls at the corner of his mouth is meant to unnerve you, entice you, or maybe both. And you wonder why, since you run on instinct so much, do you go against your designation’s expectations and make so much trouble for your father.
“You hungry?”
He tilts his head. “What?”
“I was heading to a diner,” you say. “Let me buy you something. It’s the least I can do.”
His eyes narrow for a second as he contemplates your offer. Though you already know what his answer will be.
“Sure.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Whatever.”
You smirk and motion for him to follow you. The noise from the street is a welcome reprieve from the dark and quiet alley, but being back on the sidewalk means navigating through the crowds again. You’re so used to walking alone, swiftly weaving through bodies, that you almost forget your new companion. You look over your shoulder to make sure you haven’t left him behind and your brows rise at the empty space behind you.
He is only about five or six steps behind, but his broad build and being several heads taller than nearly everyone on the street makes them steer clear and create a path for him to walk unimpeded. Your eyes meet and he grins. The way his scar stretches and his eyes narrow make him look dangerous, and like he’s certainly aware of his presence.
You hum, curious about who this man is, and turn your head forward to continue walking. Several blocks later and a right turn onto a narrow street, the diner finally comes into view. Kanji characters glow in red neon above the entrance.
“It doesn’t look like much,” you say when you’re standing in front of the dark wood sliding door. “But they’ve got the best curry you’ll ever eat.”
He doesn’t say anything as you slide the door open and wave him in first. You weren’t close enough before to notice, but when he ducks his head and passes in front of you into the diner you catch his scent. Cypress with an underlying hint of spicy cinnamon fills your senses and you have to shake your head to keep from focusing on it too long.
You enter after him and slide the door closed. He looks over the menu options on the ticket machine to the left of the door while you peer past him to the long counter. The sound of running water in the kitchen stops and a familiar face appears from behind the corner. When Momo’s brother sees you he says your name.
“Welcome.” He smiles at you warmly. Then his eyes cut to the large man beside you, who doesn’t take his focus off the food options, and tilts his head in silent inquiry. But you shake your head and he understands that now isn’t the time for questions. “Sit anywhere you’d like. Momo will—”
He pauses, looking around the diner with a frown for his sister. It’s a narrow room with a counter that spans almost the entire length of the space with room on each end to exit through the doors. The right wall is lined with tables that seat two and leaves a small aisle in between for passage along the length of the diner. The back door leads to the restroom, which is a separate room in the alley with easy street access, and where you’re certain his sister is.
You chuckle, knowing when Momo reappears she’ll be in for a scolding. Turning your attention to the machine, you feed it several notes and select your udon and toppings.
“Get as much as you want,” you say.
Your companion doesn’t hesitate to start pressing buttons, choosing a bowl of ramen and the large portion of curry. After he selects an order of gyoza and tempura the money slot blinks green and you slide in more notes. He looks at you with raised brows, probably not believing your initial offer, before he makes his final selections of yakitori and two beers. You add another yakitori and a beer for yourself before accepting your change and fishing out the tickets from the dispenser.
“Let’s take a seat.” You turn to the alpha beside you. “I’m sure—”
Suddenly the back door slides open and all eyes are on the flustered omega as she enters the diner. She straightens the apron around her waist before swiftly closing the door, but not fast enough that you don’t catch the blur of white hair dash behind her. When she looks up you can see the smudge of gloss around the corners of her mouth and you have to hold back your giggles.
Her mouth splits into a wide grin when she spots you and hurries around the counter toward you. With a tilt of your head in his direction, the alpha follows your lead down the aisle and toward a table along the wall.
“Hey, Momo,” you greet your friend. You lift your hand and use your knuckle to clear away the stray gloss on her skin. “How are you?”
“I’m good,” she answers, shyly averting her eyes. Her hands smooth down the front of her apron. “Really good.”
You raise your brows in amusement, lips parting to tease her, but Momo takes the tickets from you and tears them in half before scurrying off to the kitchen. You watch her go with a fond shake of your head.
“She’s cute.”
Your attention shifts to the alpha now seated at the table. He grins while making the observation. His gaze lingers on the entrance of the kitchen, where the low murmurs of Momo’s scolding reach your ears.
You take the seat across from him.
“Thank you,” you say, “for, uh, helping me back there.”
“You always pick fights with alphas?”
You think about your father and the clan heads, always aware of the power they hold. You’d learned about it all from Satoru growing up, your only confidant in this repeating generational cycle, and yet you refuse to give in. All your life you knew what awaited you and you took every chance to delay it. Ever since your mother’s death you wanted something more for yourself. You wanted a different future.
“Yeah.” You smile to yourself. “I guess I do.”
“Pretty stupid for an unmated omega.”
He scoffs. You roll your eyes.
“We’re not helpless, you know.”
“You got in a good hit, so maybe not helpless.” He chuckles, tilting his head down to narrow his eyes playfully. “Still a weak little thing though.”
“I literally made him bleed.”
The smirk he gives you makes him look less intimidating.
“You’re not like other omegas,” he says.
It’s not a question. Ever since you met him you’ve felt his calculating gaze on you. Not heavy or intense, but just there. A silent presence that maintains its patience, watching and studying and waiting for the right time to take action.
“Here you are.” Momo appears with your beers, placing them on the table with a steady hand. She looks from you to your companion. “Who’s your new friend?”
“I ran into some trouble,” you vaguely explain. “He was kind enough to get me out of it.”
She frowns. “Trouble?”
You wave off her concern. “It was barely anything.”
Momo turns to him, bowing her head in gratitude.
“Thank you for taking care of my friend. I’ll bring some dessert, on the house.”
“Momo, I can—”
You start to decline her offer, but the deep, rich voice of the man across from you cuts you off.
“I appreciate that, sweetheart.”
Momo perks up before flitting away with a promise of ice cream. You watch the alpha as he eyes Momo’s backside. You clear your throat.
“She’s spoken for. And your competition won’t fold as easily as those creeps in the alley.”
“Just lookin’,” he says, reaching for his first beer.
You take your own beer in your hands, bringing it up to your lips for a sip. You eye him over the rim, take in everything about him. His hair, his face, the bored expression he near constantly wears. The more you see, the more familiar he looks.
“So…what’s your name?” you ask.
“Why do you wanna know?” he counters.
“Isn’t it normal for me to want to know the name of my knight in shining armor?”
He laughs before taking a large gulp of his beer, slamming it down onto the table and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He tilts his head to look at you through half lidded eyes. You’re sure he’s trying to be seductive, and you have no doubt he can be, but after countless alphas from various clans trying to attract your attention you’ve built up a sort of immunity to pretty words and manipulative men.
He pouts when you show no sign of wavering.
“Doesn’t matter,” he huffs.
“I think it does,” you insist.
Like with the alphas in the alley, you’re caught in a staring contest with the man before you. But after a minute of you matching his impassive expression he smacks his teeth. He leans back and crosses his arms over his chest.
“What’s it to you anyway?”
You shrug. “You look like someone I know.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you say. “You’ve got the same eyes.”
He hums.
“And the same hair,” you add.
He raises his brows. His green eyes light up in mock interest.
“Even got the same frown.”
“Wow,” he leans forward, propping an elbow on the table and resting his chin in his large palm, “the same frown.”
“He’s like a carbon copy of you. Almost like you could be father and son.”
At this, he straightens up. His expression hardens and he eyes the diner warily, as if he’s been unknowingly lured into some nefarious den.
“Who are you?” he asks.
“I asked you first.”
You wait for his answer, patient as you take another sip of beer. He clenches his jaw.
“Toji,” he finally answers.
“Family name?”
He hesitates. It seems any answer he has prepared for you won’t allow him to remain anonymous. But he could also give you a fake name, though something tells you he won’t.
“Fushiguro.”
He whispers the name, one you’re familiar with. You nod your head.
Before Fushiguro, he was Zen’in. Everyone knows the story of the alpha who deserted his clan after years of being ignored and put down by his family. An alpha who couldn’t shift into his wolf form was considered a blemish on the Zen’in name. But what Toji lacked as a shapeshifter he made up for in his human form. Physically stronger, faster, sharper than nearly any man or wolf, he made a name for himself as a hunter. You don’t know how you feel about him hunting other wolves, but from the stories you heard he was quite impressive.
“Okay,” Toji says, “so what’s your name?”
You tell him your full name, then add, “But my friends call me Hana.”
He scoffs. “So we’re friends?”
“We can be.”
“Why do your friends call you Hana?” he asks instead.
“Because they think they’re funny, dubbing me the blooming flower of my family.”
He chuckles, scratching at his chin. “So what’s the daughter of a clan leader doing sneaking around at night?”
“Needed to clear my head.” You trace a line down the side of your glass, breaking through the condensation. “I’m expected to choose a husband soon.”
“Right.” Toji nods. “Your family has the golden womb.”
You scrunch your nose at his wording. That’s all you are to any of them. A pawn. An object. You could just run away, you think. You’d ask Satoru to lend you some money until you get settled somewhere far away, then you’d live your life free of clan traditions. On your own terms.
But you know it’s nothing but a fantasy. Even if you ran they’d send someone to track you down and bring you back. Someone like Toji…
You lift your gaze to the alpha, and slowly an idea begins to form in your mind. You recall a thought you had: find your own opportunity.
“What do you think about marriage?”
“The first time wasn’t so bad.” Toji shrugs. “Second time was more for convenience.”
“You know,” you pause, gauging his expression, “they say third time’s the charm.”
His brows pinch together. He’s obviously puzzled.
You smile. “What do you say?”
“Marriage? To you?” He points a thumb over his shoulder. “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head back there?”
“Think about it. If we get married your family will have to bring you back into the fold. You’ll be bankrolled by them again and I’ll get to rub it in all the clan leaders’ faces that I found away around their ancient tradition.”
“What makes you think I want their money?” Toji frowns. “Or would even go back if they asked?”
“Well, word around the packs is that you’re a bit of a gambler, so whatever money you acquire on your own is yours to do with as you please,” you say, waving your hand dismissively. “And if you don’t want to go back to your family then you can live with me. I’ll take care of your food, housing, and other essentials.”
“And be, what? Your sugar baby?”
“Essentially.” You chuckle to yourself. “Also, I’m sure they’ll want a stake in decisions about our children. That’s going to be so much fun.”
“Eh?” Toji scowls. “Now we’re talking about children?”
“Obviously we’ll have to have at least one,” you say. Avoiding children is hard in your position, but becoming a mother is not entirely out of the question. Having a mother like yours, a part of you had always been eager for your turn. “And I’m curious to see how they’ll turn out. I’ve heard stories about you. With your strengths and my “golden womb” perhaps our child will turn out to be very powerful. God, I can just picture the looks on the faces of those old men.”
Toji smirks. “You’re a spiteful one aren’t you?”
“Since I’m an only child, my father will pass on his business to whoever I marry.” You’re talking to yourself now, your future laying itself out before your eyes. “And after he does you’ll tell him you aren’t interested in running the company, then you’ll announce that you’re turning it over to me. I know everything about that place. I’ll keep growing the company, make sure the clan continues to prosper, and start making changes from the inside. Of course you’ll be free to do your own thing.”
You pause, really looking at Toji now and see a glint in his eyes as he stares back at you. You can tell he’s considering your offer.
“What about divorce?” he asks.
“You’ll have to sign a prenup, so there’s really no benefit for you if we get divorced. My father will also make sure that I have full custody of any children we have. You’ll essentially be right back where you are now. Just older.”
He’s silent as he rests his cheek in his palm.
“I’ll make sure you won’t want for anything.” You express the same sentiment your father did to you. How strange, you think, an omega offering protection and security to an alpha. “And if you want to see Megumi, I can ask—”
“No.”
“No?”
“I’ll do it. I’ll marry you.” Toji pointedly avoids your gaze. “But we don’t have to involve the kid.”
Your heart clenches. You wonder if he’ll be this indifferent to your own children.
“Okay.” You extend your hand across the table. “It’s a deal.”
Toji’s hand is warm around yours as he takes it and gives it a firm shake. Momo comes back to your table with your small feast. You thank her and she’s off again. Toji already has chopsticks in hand, but before he can take the first bite you speak up.
“For my father to accept this betrothal we’ll have to show him we’re serious. That there’s no going back.”
Toji looks at you with ramen hanging in front of his open mouth. “How do we do that?”
You smirk.
“With a little bonding time.”
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After your meal, you pay for a cab to take you and Toji to Love Hotel Hill in Shibuya. You’re dropped of at the entrance of the hotel, but before going inside you take hold of Toji’s elbow and turn him to face you.
“This is your last chance to back out,” you tell him. “If you walk through those doors with me there’s no going back.”
Toji’s head pushes back slightly. His brow furrows and he looks almost…offended. His lips part and he looks like he’s about to speak, but then his brows rise. His eyes scan your face and you wonder what he sees.
Does he see how hopeful you are? Does he realize that you’re both desperate for the same chance to change your lives?
“Don’t worry, omega.” He smirks, taking your hand that’s still touching his elbow. His thumb brushes over the inside of your wrist. A tingle zips through your arm. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Relief washes through you and you smile. You don’t think much of it as you wrap your arm through his, pulling you close to him as you walk through the automatic glass doors of the hotel.
The lobby is empty except for the reception desk where you know an attendant sits behind the opaque window. The rest of the space is finely decorated with warm overhead lighting, lush green plants, and a long leather couch placed against the far wall.
Your shoes tap softly against the tile as you and Toji step up to the board on the right wall lit up with pictures of available rooms to choose from. There are a few themed options, but you and Toji decide on a standard room for the night. So you choose a room on the top floor along with the “stay” option then go to the reception desk to pay. After you exchange notes for the key card a soft feminine voice bids you a pleasant stay.
After thanking the attendant you and Toji move to the elevator. He pushes the call button and you stand, your arm still around his, and wait. When the bell dings to signal the elevator’s arrival you prepare to step forward, but when the doors open a couple is already inside. The man removes his hands from the woman’s hips. He clears his throat and she giggles. You avert your eyes as you and Toji step aside for them to exit. When you’re inside and the elevator doors are closing you can hear the sounds of their infatuated exchange as they walk through the lobby and back out into the world.
You and Toji ride to the top floor in silence. The key card weighs heavy in your hand and you can’t help the racing of your heart as the numbers above the doors keep climbing. When the doors open you and Toji move at the same time to step into the hallway and toward your room.
Not only are you on the top floor but also in the north east corner. Although the walk to your room seems a mile long, it gives you the sense of greater privacy feeling so far away. There are no sounds from the other doors you pass that you can detect. Knowing Toji’s heightened senses, you wonder if he hears anything. You peek over at him but his face sits in the same flat expression.
When you arrive, you swipe the key card above the handle and enter the room. There’s a small area at the entrance where you both take off your socks and shoes. Toji is barefoot in less than a minute while you’re still bent at the waist working your shoes off.
Once you’re done and are upright again you stride further into the room. It’s not unlike any other pricey hotel you’ve stayed at with its marble counters and hardwood floors. The only difference would be that there’s only one window with the curtains pulled shut for privacy. You do, however, like the large circular bed in the middle of the room.
It’s on a raised section of the floor, and instead of hardwood the bed is surrounded by soft carpet. It’s sunken into the platform and dressed in white bedding. A round light fixture hovers directly above, like a spotlight on the main event.
It excites you. So you follow the feeling and waste no time getting everything prepared just the way you like it.
“Feel free to grab anything from the bar,” you say over your shoulder.
You hear the mini fridge open and close then the hiss of a bottle opening. You feel Toji’s eyes on you, watching as you flit around the room and grab towels from the bathroom along with extra blankets from the closet by the door. You toss them onto the bed and arrange them to your liking before jumping on top and rolling around your makeshift nest.
“What are you doing?” he asks, coming to stand at the edge of the bed. He takes a sip of his bottled beer.
“I want to make sure it smells like us before we get started.” You roll around a bit more. Spread your arms and legs out like you’re making a snow angel. “Come here.”
When he doesn’t move you crawl on your hands and knees and take hold of his arm. You try pulling him down to you but he doesn’t budge. Not a single inch. You try again, but are only met with Toji’s laughter.
“Told you already,” the smile he gives you is nothing short of mocking, “you’re a weak little thing.”
Your lips press together tightly, not appreciating the way he taunts you. So when your hand lets go of his arm and your fingers glide over to tease at the hem of his sweatpants you grin triumphantly when he jerks away.
“Oi!”
You giggle at the scowl Toji throws your way. He downs the rest of his beer and tosses the bottle onto the floor carelessly and it rolls away onto the hardwood. Your eyes follow him as he purposefully walks in an arc to get to the other side of the bed before plopping down onto it, landing on his back with a huff.
“You have to roll around so your scent gets everywhere,” you say.
“M’not a child.” He crosses his arms under his head, shutting his eyes. “Not gonna roll.”
“Fine.”
You surprise him for a second time by swiftly darting across the mattress and straddling his hips. His green eyes fly open and he looks at you like you’re absolutely insane. But you pay him no mind as you grab the edges of the blanket beneath him and fold each end over his front. You hold them closed tightly and sway him a little back and forth. You’re impressed with yourself that you can even manage that with how huge he is.
“Having fun?” Toji deadpans.
“A little,” you admit.
Next, you grab a towel from behind you and place it over his head, rubbing hair with it like you would if you were drying it after a shower. Toji says something but it’s unintelligible beneath the towel.
You pull it away from his face. “What was that?”
“Said it smells nice.”
“Really?” You give it a whiff. “What’s it smell like?”
“Like a plum. Tart with just the right amount of sweetness,” he says. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip. “Smells like you.”
“You’re not going soft on me now are—”
You gasp when Toji’s hand shoots out to take hold of your arm. He presses his nose to your wrist, inhaling deeply. The intimate action makes your lower belly erupt with butterflies.
As if sensing your reaction, Toji sits up. His face hovers just an inch away from you and he holds onto your hips to keep you from scooting backward. Your noses touch, lips just barely brushing. Lust swims in the pools of his green irises and you see your own eagerness reflected in them. You spend several long heated seconds exchanging warm breaths before you lean in, closing the gap and pressing your lips to his.
It starts out slowly, both of you acquainting yourselves with the taste and feel of each other, before it picks up. You’re not sure which one of you initiated it, but when the kiss turns needier and hungrier neither of you protest. You moan when his tongue passes through your lips, the wet muscle hunting for more of your taste.
The heat between you starts to rise and your mind tells you that you’re both wearing too many clothes. Your hands scramble to the hem of Toji’s shirt and start tugging until he raises his arms and you pull it over his head. Your lips are disconnected for a moment, but find each other again when his torso is bare.
Your hands wander the expanse of his sculpted chest, fingers pressing into firm muscle hidden beneath hot smooth flesh. Your touch ventures further down to his stomach where you explore every dip and crevice of abdominal muscle etched to perfection. You pull a gasp from the alpha beneath you when your fingers ghost over where the thin trail of hair on his lower stomach disappears into the waistband of his sweatpants.
Toji growls into your mouth before taking the bottom of your shirt and jerking it upward, impatient in his movements. You lift your arms and he rips it the rest of the way off you, leaving only your bra to cover your chest. The shirt is discarded before Toji attaches his mouth to yours again, but he doesn’t stay there. Hot lips start making their way lower, leaving a wet trail down your throat until his teeth are nipping and teasing at the gland on your neck. You gasp at the sensation and feel the vibrations of Toji’s laughter against your collarbone.
“Asshole,” you say, breathlessly.
He smiles against your skin, not bothering to argue, as his hands settle on your waist and give a firm squeeze. “Stand up.”
It’s not an alpha command, but you move as if it is. Your feet sink into the mattress and you hold onto Toji’s shoulders for balance. He undoes the button and pulls down your zipper, and in one motion he has your bottom half completely bare in front of him. His face presses into your hip as he helps you get each foot free.
Now you stand only in your bra, watching as he tugs down his sweatpants to reveal himself to you. He’s half hard but you can already tell he’s definitely the largest you’ve ever had. While he works his pants off you reach behind and undo your bra, letting it fall off your arms before you toss it onto the floor to land with the rest of your clothes.
Toji’s touch is on you again. Warm, calloused hands brush up and down your thighs before hooking at the back of your knees. He pulls you down so you’re once again straddling him. He kisses you, briefly but with more fervor, before he leans his head down and takes one of your nipples in his mouth.
You bring a hand to the back of his head, fingers threading through the strands as you keep him close. A whimper escapes you as the tip of his tongue expertly traces circles around your sensitive nub. Your lower body clenches when he moves to your other breast, lips firmly attaching themselves and giving a light tug.
Your free hand reaches down between your bodies to take hold of Toji’s cock. His base is nestled among a patch of dark curls, and the more your hand works up and down his length the more of him you feel. Mentally, and maybe physically, you’re drooling at his girth. And the thick vein running on the underside of his shaft makes you eager to have him inside you already, so you pump him earnestly until he’s fully erect. You keep at it until suddenly he swats your hand away.
“Toji? What—”
Your words catch in your throat when his hand suddenly dives in between your legs. Toji’s fingers run through your folds, humming in satisfaction with how soaking wet you already are. He only gives a single teasing prod at your entrance before he plunges two thick fingers inside you.
Gasping, your hands clutch onto his biceps. You pant as his long fingers reach deeper than you ever could on your own. He sets a fast pace from the start, making you choke on your own moans as he finger fucks you without mercy. His fingers curl to find that special spot inside you that has you sinking your nails into his skin. And when his palm presses down on your clit your heart literally skips a beat. Every precise movement of his fingers has the coil tightening in your belly, has you teetering on the edge.
“I’m almost—” You let out a whimper. “I’m close.”
“Yeah, you are.” Toji pushes his nose against your cheek, tongue licking at the curve of your jaw. “Can feel how tight you’re squeezing my fingers.”
You’re almost there. Just a little bit more and then you’ll—
The tension, the heat. It’s gone. The end you were so close to capturing is suddenly ripped away. You stare at the pair of fingers that should be inside you, but instead are shiny and glistening before your eyes.
“Toji.” You whine as your bottom lip juts out into a pout. “Why’d you do that? I was—”
But your protests are silenced when Toji shushes you. He lowers his slick covered hand and you watch as he strokes himself. You swallow as he delves back through your folds for more lubricant. Your hips twitch at the contact and your pussy clenches hungrily around nothing as it waits for Toji to finish preparing himself.
“Don’t worry, omega.” Toji’s voice is barely above a whisper. A soft promise just for you. “I’ll give you what you want.”
You raise your hips as Toji lines himself up with your entrance, pressing his tip against you before slowly entering. Your breathing comes in short spurts as you try to adjust to his size. Each inch burns but it soon gives way to pleasure when he bottoms out.
You’re both panting when you’re fully seated on top of him. Toji leans back on his hands, green eyes staring up at you.
“Take it,” he says. “Take what you need.”
You lean forward, holding his face in your palms, and kiss him. When you lift your hips, you whine into his mouth and bring yourself back down. You plant your hands on his shoulders and set your pace. You pull back as you bounce on his cock, feeling the familiar tightness once again.
“That’s it. Keep going.” One of Toji’s hands comes to rest at the base of your neck, a subtle guide to your actions that barely registers in the back of your currently one track driven mind. “Doing so good, omega.”
He’s called you that several times tonight, but you can’t help clench around him when he says it now. Full of pride and encouragement. A primal instinct in you is reacting to this man, this alpha, and you like it.
Suddenly, Toji pushes forward and pulls you to his chest, one arm around your waist while his other hand takes hold of your chin and points it upward. His mouth hovers over your exposed flesh, over the sensitive gland on the side of your neck. He doesn’t need you to tell him when, you can feel the way you’re coming together.
You slam down onto him once, twice, and then you cry out as the tight coil within finally snaps at the same time Toji sinks his teeth into you. Sharp canines pierce your mating gland, sending a shiver down your spine.
Blood trickles out of the wound and Toji laps away at the trail of crimson, leaving none behind. You wrap your arms around him. You want him closer, as close as you can be.
You feel dazed, like the world has shifted on its axis. Your head drops as a fog clouds your mind, struggling to conjure up any other thought besides Toji. But all you feel is the hot aftershocks of pleasure coursing through you as the familiar scent of cypress and cinnamon surrounds you.
The world shifts again and this time you land on something soft. You blink your eyes open, realizing you’re on your back now. Toji hovers above you. His broad shoulders take over your field of vision so all you see is him. His black hair hangs in sweaty strands down the sides of his face. Those emerald green of his eyes are locked onto you. It makes your heart flutter.
“Alpha.”
Toji’s expression softens when you call to him. Plead for him. He lowers his head to nose at the mark he’s just made. You flinch, still sensitive.
“Did so good for me, omega.” His praise makes you keen. You arch your back to touch your chest to his. “Now it’s my turn.”
He’s still hard inside you, not having found his release yet. He wraps your legs around his waist and starts moving. Like earlier, he doesn’t wait to set a quick pace. His hips pound into you as he chases his own pleasure.
Whimpers escape you as he bullies your sensitive pussy. He braces his forearms on either side of your head, caging you in. Instinctively, your arms wrap around his back, keeping him trapped inside your locked limbs.
“I’m gonna…fuck,” Toji hisses in your ear. “Wanna cum inside you.”
“It’s okay.” You hold onto him tighter. “M’on birth control.”
After your admission his thrusts turn erratic. You feel the swelling at the base of his cock grow larger and larger. He’s hot and heavy inside you. All around you. He’s overwhelming but you don’t want him to stop.
“Almost there,” Toji grunts.
“Please, Alpha.”
Toji moans, both from your plea and the way you tighten yourself around his cock. Your body wants him. Can’t get enough. You’re his and now it’s time to make him yours.
One last powerful thrust sends Toji over the edge. His knot swells inside of you, sealing you both together, as his hot seed paints your walls. He sighs, heavy and satisfied as he continues to gently rock into you.
The haze of your mind is beginning to clear. Your body slowly becomes heavier even as small shocks of pleasure continue to jolt through your system. You raise a trembling hand to the back of Toji’s head. Taking a fistful of his hair, you sharply yank his head to the side and bite down hard enough to pierce the gland on his neck.
Toji grunts. His body stiffens as he hides his face in the crook of your neck. You smooth a hand down his back as you lick away any remaining blood, and his body gradually relaxes until he’s pressing his full weight on top of you.
You huff, trying to shift to get a better chance at not suffocating. But when you pull away a little too quickly, you both hiss when there’s a harsh tug at where your connected.
“Sorry,” you apologize. Your hands are quick to soothe, helping Toji adjust his body so you’re both comfortable. “How do you feel?”
Toji still has his face hidden in your neck. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to.
Although the bonding isn’t as potent as it would be during your heat it doesn’t lessen the connection you’ve created with this man. You both cling to each other as you struggle to take it all in, anxious about how this decision is already changing you.
Instincts you’ve ignored until now are already clawing their way out of the deep pits of your subconscious. The urge to soothe, to nurture, to submit is nearly overpowering. It will completely consume you if you let it.
Toji’s large hand is splayed out across your rib cage, thumb caressing the curve of your breast. His mind races while his heart beats wildly as he clings to you. His actions aren’t lining up with who he’s been up to this point. He’s never been the type to attach himself to anyone or anything. Thankfully, you feel his building resolve to chip away at the unwanted bits of his new appetite as a bonded alpha.
You sigh, relieved you made the right choice, as you card your fingers through Toji’s hair until his breathing evens out and he’s fast asleep.
But you stay wide awake well into the early morning. How could you surrender to sleep with all your life’s new possibilities waiting for you to conceive of them?
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Dividers by @rookthornesartistry.
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teaboot · 1 year
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True facts about my home town that I think about sometimes:
Nobody knows how big it is or what the borders are. There is some general consensus on what buildings are inside the town and which buildings are outside the town, as well as which buildings are definitely a different town entirely, but there is no clear "You are now in" or "You are now leaving" type locations you can point to on a map.
Tangentially, there are people one or two towns over, less than a 45 minute drive away, who will regularly ask "where is that?" Or, "I've never heard of that place" when you mention the town by name.
There are so few people that it is technically classified as a Village.
For many years, our only gas station did not sell gas. Once it began selling gas, I remember that they had to patch up the giant hole in a nearby billboard and use it to declare, "We Have Gas!", which was hilarious.
The whole place is mostly just woods.
There is some disagreement among locals as to whether or not there are wolves in the area. That being said, I have absolutely seen wolves in the area.
There is a public transit system that passes through. That said, it only stops by three times a day, and there are no set stops, so you kind of just have to pick a spot on the side of the road and hope for the best. If you are already on board and want off, you have to ring the bell and tell the bus driver where to pull over, which they may or may not do depending on the driver, the weather, traffic conditions, and general vibes.
I had three neighbors and I didn't even see any of them until about fifteen years in. One property across the road was a farm where I never saw anyone outside, but cars and equipment would move places throughout the day.
There is a post office. The woman who operates it is generally regarded as either incompetent or genuinely malicious, as she will often send mail back where it came from  with the justification that she doesn't believe your address is real.
The nearest actual city, with schools and a library and a hospital, famously has absolute dog shit cell service to the point that it is locally famous for it.
My childhood home specifically had a reputation for being a bad traffic spot despite being along a strip of straight road with no turns, and we regularly had to patch up holes in the fence from cars going through it. Most notable was one crash that woke me up as a child on Christmas morning, which I received a lovely thank-you card for noticing after I fetched my parents to assist.
Another time when I was a kid I went outside to find a car with the rear wheels in the air, nose-first in a ditch. I was home alone, so I went inside to call 911 on the landline, where I was immediately put on hold.
Someone stole our church and kept it for several years before inexplicably bringing it back and leaving it behind town hall. Just lifted it off the foundation and trucked it away.
The whole place is just around 100 years old and if you go into the woods you can still find hundreds of humongous tree stumps with foot holds carved into them from when the first white people came in and started settling down.
Apparently an entire family was axe murdered here in like the 80's and nobody talks about it
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dejwrld · 8 months
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— in which the heir to the biggest mafia/yakuza in japan is in an arranged marriage with a foreigner & it turns into a wicked jealous filled obsession. inspo from happy together by the turtles
( cw ) ⸻ fem reader, her/she pronouns, female pet names, yandere themes, yandere!ushijima, mentions of violence, mentions of blood, mentions of murder, mentions of gore, yakuza/mafia au, choking kink, character death, possessive!ushijima, ooc!ushijima (only said ooc cause he does not act like the way he acts in hq), toxic relationship, ushijima father slaps him in one part, arranged marriage au // minors dni ! repost from old account!
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀this fic won the mystery fanfic repost poll.
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HOW COULD SOMEONE’S HANDS FEEL SO COLD? That thought lingered in the back of your mind when you felt Ushijima Wakatoshi’s hand placed on the lower part of your back as you waltzed around the venue. You remembered how his touch felt so cold that it sent a shiver down your spine even though minutes ago you complained about how hot you were in the vintage well-tailored white dress. You never expected your life to change suddenly due to your father. It was a bit comical considering that he got you into this marriage and didn’t even bother to show up to walk you down the aisle. 
You felt like a sheep among some vicious hungry wolves. You had no friends in Japan. You had no family in Japan. Just Ushijima and his circle. You couldn’t even contact your family unless they contacted you first. You would think that you were the president’s daughter, but you were only one of the richest men in the world's daughter. That came with consequences. Your life was always under a microscope. Eat this. Dress this way. Don’t date this person. Attend this university. You didn’t actually think you’d be scribbling ‘have an assassination threat on your head’ off your Bingo card.
So here you were, bound with Ushijima Wakatoshi for your safety and the future of your family. You should have known that an arranged marriage was going to be put on the table. Someone would question why a foreigner has been hanging around the notorious family that controls more than eight districts in Japan. You planned to lay low, enjoy your time in Japan, maybe go back to school, and then when your father contacted Ushijima’s father, go back home. But the thing is, you knew that there wasn’t any going back home. For all you know, your father could have been dead. The thing is you knew this marriage wasn’t going to be rainbows and sunshine, Ushijima didn’t even smile as you waltzed down the aisle in a room of strangers. You remembered the deadpan look he gave you, but that last dance is what caused your stomach to form the most horrendous knots as he brought you closer. You could feel his breath trickle at your earlobe before he whispered, “The only one for me is you, and you for me. We both have a lot on the line when it comes to this fuckin’ marriage. We’re stuck with each other, so let’s make sure this work.” 
Even though he uttered those words in your ear over two months ago, you and Ushijima just couldn’t work. It wasn’t like you weren’t putting in the effort, you did. You even learned how to cook some of his favorite dishes and even then, you still were met with a harsh cold steel door. You remembered vividly when it seemed like a switch was turned on in his head. You sat in the living room like the pretty wife you were. The diamond ring on your wedding finger glistened under the family mansion light, you hated to admit that Ushijima picked out a beautiful ring when there wasn’t much meaning behind it. You were confused about why you and Ushijima were summoned here in the first place. It wasn’t like you two were doing anything romantic anyway, just you watching the maids cater to him due to him partying the previous night. When you heard the harsh footsteps and your eyes watched as men bowed as the Takashi Utsui entered the room. By the looks of his face, he looked pissed and your mind instantly panicked. You toyed with the ends of your dress as you watch Ushijima stand up with urgency to greet his father. 
Your eyes bulged outward when you heard and witnessed the harsh slap Takashi placed against Ushijima’s cheek. The room was so silent and you observed everyone in the room. No one bulged at the action as if it happened before. You watched as one of Takashi’s men rushed to his side handing him a folder. He opened it with urgency revealing the photo of Ushijima in a club the previous night. A woman was on his lap kissing his neck. Your eyes instantly lowered in embarrassment. Even though this marriage had no love, you still felt a form of humiliation. 
“What did I tell you before you said I do to that woman right there?” Takashi’s finger points at you. 
Ushijima's jaw clenched tightly as if he was holding back an explosive bomb. 
“Huh? I can’t seem to hear you.” Takashi stepped forward toward his son. His head tilted to the side as he was trying to hear Ushijima’s words.
“That if I embarrass her, I’m dishonoring my family,” Ushijima said.
“And?” Takashi asked.
“And she’s a part of the family now,” Ushijima said. 
Your heart was beating so hard at the word. You watched as Takashi's fingers combed through his hair. He let out a sigh to calm himself down before he’s walking over to you extending his hand for you to take. You hesitantly took it as he helped you up, walking by his angry son to walk into the family garden in the backyard. Your hand grasped at his arm as you walked by his side. The sweet scent of the Cherry Blossom tree that was in their backyard. You remembered Ushijima mentioning that his father got the tree grown in the backyard because his mother adored the scent of when the petals free-fell to the ground. However, even though his parents divorced his father still made sure the tree was taken care of.
“I want you to go out,” His father commented as he was walking around the garden. He could feel your grasp upon his arm tighter, “You’ve been trapped up in the house while my reckless son goes out and embarrasses our family,” He commented. 
“I don’t know anyone to go out with sir,” You commented. “I would rather be home, especially considering that it would only be a burden. Do I need to remind you, that I have a hit out on me?” You pointed it out.
You watched as his lips formed a straight line, “Of course. I won’t let you go out alone, you’ll be with my assistant and her friends. Plus, I’m sure I’ll have some men in there if you need them,” he reminded. 
You would look at him before simply nodding, not bothering to argue with him once again. “Okay.” was the only thing you said before he let go of your hand. 
“Please enjoy your time out. I would hate to have to tell your father you hate it here.” He responded. “You deserve to be happy and I’ll be sure to ensure that.” 
You forced a smile on your face which seems like you were doing that a lot. The sweet scent of the cherry blossoms lingered up your nostrils before you were speaking once again, “Okay, thank you.” You gave his arm a squeeze and a kind smile before departing to go back into the luxury home. 
You were expecting to be met by Ushijima, but he was nowhere to be found. It didn’t particularly shock you, he got embarrassed in front of everyone. You were expecting to be met with your usual driver who hardly spoke to you unless you spoke to him first but instead was met with Tendou and Kai. Your eyebrows raised as you stared at him, “Let me guess, you’re taking me home.” You sighed and you didn’t get an answer, but you did follow them outside the huge mansion. 
When you got in the SUV, you would sit in the back instantly indulging in the things on your phone before you heard Kai’s voice. “He actually does care about you, you know?” 
You would shake your head, “Has a funny way of showing it.” You answered.
“But, please do not do something tonight that will upset him,” Tendo warned as his fingertips tapped at the steering wheel.
You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “He gets to go out and act a damn fool, but wants to lose his mind if I do the same,” You kissed your teeth. “I’m going to go out and have so much fun like his father said to do.” 
The remaining amount of time in the car was quiet before you were dropped off at the luxury mansion that you resided in. Despite you decorating the huge mansion to your liking, it still didn’t feel like home. You were greeted by one of the maids, and you would only tell her that she could take the day off, especially considering that you believed today was one of her children's birthdays.
“But Mr.—“ The maid's words were cut off by you.
“I will handle him. You guys can have the rest of the day off. Go enjoy your child’s birthday,” You explained as you watched her face light up before she walked away to grab her things. 
FOR ONCE YOU WERE ENJOYING YOURSELF. As you were at the bar attempting to flag down one of the bartenders, you could feel a male figure squeeze himself next to you and the countless others at the bar. His tall stature towered over you as you attempted once again to get the bartender’s attention. However, the man interjected whistling and getting the bartender’s attention. 
“That’s the trick, to get their attention,” He commented as he gave you a smile that you returned. It was like a bird calling as the bartender flocked to him effortlessly. “This beautiful young woman has been trying to get your attention. I’ve told you guys about not being aware of the customers in front of you.” He warned.
“Sorry sir, it’s a bit hectic back here.” The bartender apologized as his eyes traveled to you. But when he noticed who you were, he looked away with quickness. “What can I get you?” 
You would ignore his sudden break of eye contact and begin to list the drinks your section wanted. “Could you get them served to that section also?” You pointed to the section on the left of the club. “Add an extra bottle and just charge it to Ushijima Wakatoshi’s card.” 
The gentlemen next to you eyebrows raised as he was trying to mentally put a face to the name that fell off your tongue. You leaned against the bar patiently before speaking, “Thanks for helping me. I appreciate it.” You gave him a kind smile as you watched one of the bottle girls load up the drinks on a tray to deliver to the section you were at. 
“It’s no problem. We wouldn’t want to disappoint the wife of Ushijima Wakatoshi.” He responded. 
You rolled your eyes hearing that statement, which the man caught instantly. “Is there a problem? Are you—”
Your words cut him off with a quickness. “It’s not a problem. I am his wife after all, but I just hate that here that’s all I’m known for.” You said to the gentlemen. 
You understood that it was for the best for a lot of people to know who you were, but being known as the wife of a man who didn’t even take the marriage seriously himself felt even worst. You had so much more power than people expected, but here you were in an unknown world not being able to use that power. 
You thanked the stranger once again before attempting to go back to the section, but you felt him tug you back towards him. He lets out a firm sigh before extending his hand toward you. “Let’s start over, I’m Lev Haiba. I own this club.” His hand motioned around the crowds of people in the nightclub. 
You couldn’t help but snicker as you shook his head. “Y/N, heir to the biggest oil company in the world.” You answered. “But that has to stay between us.” You gave Lev a playful smirk and he only held his hand up in a defensive mode.
“Your secret is safe with me. I hope Japan is treating you well considering the uh—circumstances.” Lev says. 
You could hear the pity in his voice. “I’m assuming you’ve heard the news of my loving husband?” You asked as the two of you were walking towards the section you were in. 
“Everyone did. It was this club he was spotted doing said activities. However, it’s Ushijima Wakatoshi, no one is going to ruin his mood.” Lev admitted as he rubbed at the back of his neck nervously. “But I have said too much, I should get back to my job. It was a pleasure meeting you.”
You watched as he disappeared into the crowd, once again feeling like the sheep in a field filled with wolves as you sat down in one of the chairs. You instantly picked up the drink wanting to drink the night away. 
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WHEN YOU RETURNED HOME, you dropped your YSL heels on the floor as you stumbled into the house. You glanced at your phone and saw that it was four in the morning. You couldn’t believe that you stayed out so late. You definitely were going to have to rain check with the afternoon tea session with Ushijima’s mother. You attempted to tiptoe your way further inside the house not wanting to wake Ushijima (if he was home). You were aware that on some occasions Ushijima men would be at your house. It didn’t shock you that they were here in your living room doing god knows what. However, the weird feeling under the bottom of your feet caused you to instantly sober up. It felt wet, slightly slippery. You glanced down and your eyes grew big at the sight you were seeing. You had stepped in a small splatter of blood that decorated the thin plastic layer that was on the floor. Your heart rate increased instantly as you stumbled back in a horrified panic to be met with Ushijima catching you from falling. 
“I—“ Your words were stuck in your throat. Your hands were shaking harshly and your heart felt like it was trying to claw out your chest. Your eyes stared at your husband as the crimson-colored liquid stained the white Versace button-down shirt. 
“It’s good to know you’ve made it home safely. Now let’s go get cleaned up. We’re both in need of a shower anyway.” He firmly said. 
You felt Ushijima grab hold of your forearm. His blood-covered fingertips stained your brown skin. “But we have guests.” You stuttered out.
“That’s fine, they will be busy cleaning up the mess that you made,” Ushijima confirmed.
Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion as you were being tugged into the shared bedroom. With urgency, Ushijima closed the door behind him. “Strip.” was the only thing he said as his hands went up to unbutton the buttons on his shirt.
You did what you were told, letting the dress you wore fall to the ground. You crossed your arms over your chest preventing Ushijima from seeing you like this. You didn’t even notice that he had already stripped out of his expensive clothing. You could sense him towering over you before you finally croaked out some words, “You said my mess? I haven’t done anything wrong.” 
Goosebumps decorated your skin when you felt Ushijima’s fingertips tracing alongside your side. His fingertips engraved you with the possible sin he just committed before you arrived home. He stopped right at the soft fabric of the thong you wore, letting out a low hum before pushing them down. You didn’t argue against his action. You weren’t sure if you were too afraid to or if you just wanted to see where this would go. You stepped out of your underwear before watching Ushijima disappear into the bathroom. The sound of the shower could be heard before his voice broke you out of your broken thoughts. Like an obedient dog, you walked into the bathroom with your hands still attempting to cover your bare body. Ushijima was already in the hot steaming shower washing over the blood that was on him. “I’ve already seen you vulnerable before, remember our wedding night?” He asked. “There’s no need to hide your body away from me.” He answered.
“You never responded to what I said. What mess have I created? You’re the one that’s going out every night and acting a fool,” You reminded him.
Ushijima let out a sigh, “Just get in the fuckin’ shower and we can talk.” He says, “Please.” 
Hearing him say please was a shock to you, you took a couple of steps forward opening the door of the walk-in shower to join him. In a different world, such an intimate moment would have your stomach flowing with butterflies. But right now, your stomach could only twist in dangerous knots while you let the steaming hot water heat your body. “Did you have fun last night?” Ushijima asked.
Your eyes met with his as you felt the warm cloth filled with soap brush against your body. He was kind enough to clean you himself. Similar to a doll maker creating a doll, you felt that’s what Ushijima was doing. You were his doll as soon as you walked down the aisle clutching onto his father’s arm. “I did. It was nice to not be bottled up in his house. It can get lonely sometimes,” You answered. 
“You have the maids, it can’t be that lonely,” He responded.
That was true. During your time living here, you managed to get to know each of the eight maids and two groundskeepers that worked to make sure Ushijima’s home looked nice. But it still felt lonely, cold. It didn’t feel like a home. 
“Although, I appreciate their help around the place. It’s not the same.” You answered as your finger went up to motion for the young man to turn so you could wash his back. “You know this. I’m not asking for much, but can we at least pretend we’re enjoying this marriage.” 
“I’m actually enjoying this marriage,” Ushijima responded with a chuckle.
“You have such a weird way to show it. Going out every night, being seen with other women—“ You stopped abruptly to let out a weary sigh. Not sure if the sudden feeling of being lightheaded came from the hotness of the shower or the fact that you’re finally voicing your opinions to Ushijima. “It’s humiliating.” 
Ushijima didn’t say much about your words. The two of you continued to shower in silence before eventually getting out of it. At this point, you had sobered as you toyed with the ends of the soft white rob Ushijima put you in. You watched as Ushijima waltzed back into the bedroom, “Well, let me show that I will change.” 
Your body leaned against the doorframe of the master bedroom bathroom, “Sex really can’t show me anything. Changed behavior though,” You said rolling your eyes at him. 
“Come on, when was the last time we actually had sex.” 
“You’re deflecting from the original conversation Ushi,” You sighed as you walked towards the dresser to find something to wear.
As you were searching for something to sleep in, you could feel Ushijima’s strong arms wrap around your waist. He tugged you closer to his body and you felt the growing boner poking at the fatness of your butt. “You haven’t called me Ushi since our wedding night.” He commented.
“You’re so annoying.” You sighed, but you didn’t bulge out his touch. “We both were drunk as ever that night. I can’t believe you still remember that.” 
“Of course, I remembered it. You moaned it so beautifully while your head was buried into a pillow,” Ushijima reminded you as you felt his lips press against the exposed skin on your neck. 
You felt your skin grow hotter with each harsh nibble, lick, and bite on your neck. One of Ushijima’s hands disappeared inside your robe and straight in between your thighs. His index and middle fingers swiped at your wet folder and indulged in how wet you were while you seemed to melt into his touch. “You don’t remember, hmm? How your thighs couldn’t stop shaking once we were done?” He asked as his fingertips that were covered in your wetness would rub at your clit. “How you wet up the sheets so badly?” 
You made direct eye contact with Ushijima in the mirror that was connected to the dresser. The once softness that was in his eyes for a split second was gone. You weren’t particularly super religious, but you were sure you were looking into the eyes of the devil. He undid your rob and tugged it off your bare body causing you to gasp suddenly. Your thighs quivered for more as you felt your own wetness stain the inside of your thighs. Ushijima stopped the subtle circular motion on your clit before he’s talking once again. “Tell me you remember that and I’ll help you cum,” His words tickled your earlobe and you nodded instantly.
“I remember. Ushi—“ You desperately coughed up those words. “I remember.” 
“Good,” Ushijima said while the grip around your waist grew tighter. “Now be a good wife and go to the bed and get on all fours, darling.” 
You did what you were told, being sure to grab a pillow to make yourself feel more comfortable. The anticipation bubbling into your stomach as you could sense Ushijima behind you. When you felt him tug you closer to the bed, you swallowed the large lump forming in your throat. Your cunt so eager to swallow his cock bit by bit even though you were sure he wasn’t going to be so gentle. When you felt the tip of Ushijima’s cock enter you, you chewed at your lower lip getting ready for him to instantly bottom down inside you. The faint memory of your wedding night when he specifically praised you on how well you took his dick swirled around your head. 
This time he took his time. Pushing his cock inside you slowly, teasingly, until you were gasping for him to put it all the way in. His large hands grasped at your waist before his hips begin to drive forward to be met with the soft flesh of your butt. Your head buried into the pillow caging in your moans before Ushijima grabbed the pillow and tossed it. “I need my men to hear you while they’re cleaning up your mess.” He said firmly. 
His fingers buried into the flesh of your skin while the sound of skin slapping against each other could be heard. Ushijima was in a complete trace as he watched his cock disappear into your addicting cunt. “Go ahead, moan out how good Ushi is making you feel while they clean up your mess.” He said through gritted teeth. 
“What mess?” You hiccuped out through moans. Your eyesight grew blurry due to the tears that accumulated through Ushijima’s thrusts. 
You let out a yelp when Ushijima grabbed a hold of your head tugging you upward. His chest pressed against your sweat-coated back before he let go of your hand to use that hand to snake around to your neck. “Don’t act foolish Y/N.” He answered.
You could feel Ushijima’s cock twitch inside you as he stopped his thrusts abruptly. His hand wrapped around your neck and you could feel him give it a slight squeeze before his thrusting continued. “You know my doll. When you press your thumb in someone’s windpipe, index finger to their carotid artery, and your middle finger applies pressure to their jugular vein…they’ll lose consciousness.” Ushijima said.
The heat of the moment of your breath grasping away for a couple of seconds due to Ushijima mimicking the same thing he just told her, he let go of you and shoved your face further into the fluffiness of the mattress. “Even when I nearly took your breath away, you only clutched around my cock even tighter.” He said darkly. 
His words sent a bone chilling shiver down your spine as you moaned out helplessly. “Ushi!” You moaned out.
His thrusting only continued, ignoring your little whimpers before he leaned over placing wet kisses on the middle of your spine. “You know that only makes a person lose consciousness, but if you continue you can damage the cortex of your brain which leads to your death.” He uttered as he was thrusting.
His chest heaved upwards as he traced his name upon your skin. “It took less than 6 minutes for your little friend Lev to finally fuckin’ die when I wrapped my hands around his throat.” He said through groans. You could feel his thrusting grow sloppy, he was about to cum.
“I had to clean up your mess Y/N,” he said. 
You felt yourself orgasm immediately. The dangerous shiver that went though your body made your body go into complete shock. Your gasping out for Ushijima. The thought of him killing a man that talked to you pushed you to the edge. Perhaps you did flutter around his cock even more at the sound of those words coming out his mouth. Ushijima still fucked you through the explosive orgasm until he too was cumming mess, not bothering to pull out either. Filling you up to the brim with his cum just to trap you as his. 
He let your body collapse on the bed like a rag doll. You were completely out of breath with his cum leaking out of you and when you met his eyes, they were soft once again. 
“We’re starting a clean slate starting now. No more outside interferences when it comes to our marriage. We’re going to be happy together if we like it or not.” He said as he leaned down to place a kiss upon your temple. 
“Now get some rest, my doll, we have tea with my mother in about eight hours.” 
You really were still a sheep upon the family of wolves. 
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alterlest · 8 months
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𓃶 What Is The Wild Hunt?
The Wild Hunt is a common belief among many Northern European cultures. In short, the hunt is a cavalcade of ghosts, spirits, fairies, elves, and other spiritual beings that is said to sweep across our world every year. Depending on where your beliefs come from, when it happens will differ.
It is commonly believed that the leader of The Wild Hunt is a deity or figure of importance of some kind, such as Odin/Woden in Norse and Saxon traditions, or King Arthur in British lore. Other leaders of the hunt include but are not limited to:
𖤓 Arawn or Gwyn ap Nudd, commonly seen as the Welsh lords of Annwn
𖤓 Danish king Valdemar Atterdag
𖤓 The Norse dragon slayer Sigurd
𖤓 Biblical figures like Cain, Gabriel, Herod and the devil
𖤓 Gothic king Theodoric the Great
☾༺♰༻☽
𓃶 What Did People Do For The Wild Hunt?
The Wild Hunt was generally seen as a bad omen; one for destruction, famine, war, plague, or the death of the one who saw it. In many traditions, witnessing the hunt would result in the viewer being abducted to Otherworld or Underworld. Other times, those who were not protected would have their souls pulled from their bodies while they sleep, and they would join the menagerie of the dead.
To avoid this fate, people in Wales, for example, began the tradition of carving pumpkins as a way to avoid being taken by the fae. In Scandinavia, offerings like bread were put outside the home as an offering to the spirits joining Odin for the hunt.
☾༺♰༻☽
𓃶 When is The Wild Hunt?
Depending on where your beliefs stem from, there are various answers to this question.
In Britain, The Wild Hunt is associated with the autumn season, specifically around and on Samhain/The Autumn Equinox.
Scandinavian tradition tells us that they prepared for the hunt around December, specifically Yule/The Winter Equinox.
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𓃶 What Entities Are A Part of the Wild Hunt?
Many entities are associated with the Wild Hunt in different areas. These entities include but are not limited to:
𖤓 The Fae (The Sidhe, The Tlywyth Teg, etc)
𖤓 Spirits of the Dead
𖤓 Demons
𖤓 Valkyries
𖤓 The Spirits of Huntsmen or Nobles
𖤓 Horses (sometimes with an abnormal amount of legs)
𖤓 Wolves and dogs (sometimes spiritual in nature, i.e. the Cwn Annwn)
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greenwitchcrafts · 5 months
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January 2024 Witch guide
Full Moon: January 25th
New moon: January 11th
Sabbats: None
January Wolf Moon
Known as: Bear Moon, Chaste Moon, Cold Moon, Disting Moon, Goose Moon, Moon of Little Winter,  Moon of Strong Cold, Quiet Moon, Snow Moon, Stay at Home Moon, Sun Has Not Strength to Thaw Moon & When Snow Blows Like Spirits In The Wind Moon
Element: Air
Zodiac: Capricorn & Aquarius
Nature spirits: Brownies & Gnomes
Deities: Freya, Hera, Innana & Saraswati
Animals: Coyote & fox
Birds: Blue Jay & pheasant
Trees: Birch & Hazel
Herbs: Cones, holy thistle &marjoram
Flowers: Crocus & Snowdrop
Scents: Mimosa & musk
Stones: Chrysoprase, garnet, hematite, moonstone, onyx & jet
Colors: Black, blue-violet, grey, silver & white
Energy: Adventurous, ambitious, awareness, beauty, beginning & conceiving; business, career, conserving energy, energy below the surface, organization, political matters, potential, protection, recognition, reputation, reversing spells & spirituality
The name for the January full Moon is believed to have originated from Celtic and Old English roots, which European settlers then brought to the New World.
At one point, gray wolves were among the most widespread land mammals on our planet. According to the Wolf Conversation Center, gray wolves “inhabited most of the available land in the Northern Hemisphere.” Habitat destruction and persecution by humans have reduced their range by about a third worldwide and 90 percent in the lower 48 states.
The wolf’s adaptable nature to survive in a wide range of habitats and ability to prey on the largest mammals living in those regions made it widespread. Basically, if there are enough deer, moose, elk, caribou, bison, and musk ox, wolves can survive. Predation of domestic animals caused friction with European settlers and early Americans who aggressively hunted the wolves.
Werewolf myths can be found in ancient Greek and Roman societies, throughout European history and among some Native American tribes. In modern storytelling the transformation from man to wolf has been closely tied to the full Moon in films like “The Wolf Man” and “American Werewolf In London.”
Howl at the Moon means to waste energy pursuing something unattainable. It’s shorthand for doing something crazy. However, howling is hardly a waste of energy among wolf packs. And they aren’t howling at the Moon. The Moon just happens to be shining during times when wolves most often howl.
A wolf’s howl can be heard miles away. The vocalization helps wolves locate separated members and even communicate between packs marking their territories. One study recorded spontaneous howls and responses happen most often between 11 p.m. and 6 a.m.
The cry of wolves doesn’t play into the Sioux name for the January full Moon, which is known as “The Time When Wolves Run Together.” Wolves do plenty of running to defend territory that can stretch hundreds of square miles to find enough prey to support the pack.
Other Celebrations
• Hogmanay | January 1st: is the Scots word for the last day of the old year and is synonymous with the celebration of the New Year in the Scottish manner. It is normally followed by further celebration on the morning of New Year's Day (1 January) and, in some cases, 2 January—a Scottish bank holiday. In a few contexts, the word Hogmanay is used more loosely to describe the entire period consisting of the last few days of the old year and the first few days of the new year. For instance, not all events held under the banner of Edinburgh's Hogmanay take place on 31 December.
The origins of Hogmanay are unclear, but it may be derived from Norse and Gaelic observances of the winter solstice. Customs vary throughout Scotland and usually include gift-giving and visiting the homes of friends and neighbours, with particular attention given to the first-foot, the first guest of the new year.
• Compitalia/ Feast of Lades | January 3-5: was an annual festival in honor of the Lares Compitales, household deities of the crossroads, to whom sacrifices were offered at the places where two or more ways met.
Dionysius said that Servius Tullius founded the festival, which he describes as it was celebrated in his time. Dionysius relates that the sacrifices consisted of honey-cakes (Ancient Greek: πέλανοι) presented by the inhabitants of each house; and that the people who assisted as ministering servants at the festival were not free men, but slaves, because the Lares took pleasure in the service of slaves. He further adds that the Compitalia were celebrated a few days after the Saturnalia with great splendor, and that the slaves on this occasion had full liberty to do as they pleased.
During the celebration of the festival, each family placed the statue of the underworld goddess Mania at the door of their house. They also hung up at their doors figures of wool representing men and women, accompanying them with humble requests that the Lares and Mania would be contented with those figures, and spare the people of the house
Sources:
Farmersalmanac.com
Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines
A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs
Llewellyn's 2023 magical almanac: practical magic for everyday living
Wikipedia
Encyclopedia Britannica
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immediatebreakfast · 10 months
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There are no wolves in England.
Modernity, and its need for land killed their home, and in consequence killed them too.
The people of Transylvania live with their legends at their front door, covering their necks with rosaries, and prayers. Closing windows, and hanging flowers. Less another life gets taken by that Evil Being whose eyes now point beyond their borders. A young english man was the last victim, who knows if his visage now walks in those forests, waiting for an unsuspecting traveler like he was.
There was something Inhuman aboard on the Demeter. It killed the crew, and pushed the captain to the edge of humanity, yet he held his head high, and made himself deserving of honor among the sailors of Whitby in death. All proud of the captain who completed his duty to the end.
"It almost seems as though the captain had been seized with some kind of mania before he had got well into blue water, and that this had developed persistently throughout the voyage."
A huge, unknown dog jumps from the tragedy of the Demeter, and hides in the shadows. Because it couldn't be anything else than a dog, there are no wild canines in England.
The log of the captain doesn't mention a dog. However, it is weirdly filled with superstitions.
Something, a horrible unknown beast is killing the poor dogs. We must do something! What if it gets the poor dog that left the Demeter in such a hurry, it might get hurt!
Even the oldest people in Whitby laugh at their legends. Only constructed to bring in tourists who are curious about them.
They could be true! Says an old sailor, but we don't need those anymore. There is no need to put rosaries on our necks, nor lock our doors.
After all there are no wolves in England.
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dawn-moths · 9 months
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“Show Me You Love Me With the Shape of Your Bite”
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Noe Archiviste x Female Reader
word count: 4300+
(celebrating two years of this blog, i’m back with a lil one shot for noe because the first fic i ever posted was for him. // A human’s strength is nothing compared to a vampire’s— a fact that’s always concerned Noe when it comes to being with you in such an intimate way. But, unlike how most of your own kind would warn you of, you’ve never had a reason to doubt or fear his intentions with you. Besides, as if letting him bite you on a normal basis wasn’t proof enough, even in the worst case scenario, you’ve already made it clear to Noe that you don’t necessarily mind a little pain if he’s the one causing it.)
content warning/disclaimer: 18+ content! minors dni! smut, vampires, biting/marking, blood/readers blood is drunk, reader is a bit of a masochist while Noe is apprehensive about hurting her too much, rough sex at times, size difference, dickriding, aftercare.
*ao3 mirror*
***
Ribbons of broken, silver moonlight streamed in through the gaps of the curtains, the shadows of dusk dancing across the floors, starbursts of amber and coral shimmering on the polished hardwood from the crackling fire burning low and sultry in its stoney hearth.
In the night, Paris came alive, the city lights sparkling like a sea of stars across the horizon, the constant murmur and buzz of the after-dark crowds humming through the air in a stream of noise and energy, muffled and distant from where you now lay, yet you could still imagine the intensity of it all after growing so used to being a part of the pack yourself.
Ever since meeting Noe, you’d traded rising in the early morning and twilight wind-downs for long, late nights and views of the dawn breaking on the horizon, the first muted shades of lilac and gold signaling your time to rest rather than the plum and navy of night blanketing itself across the sky like most others of your kind followed the consistent rhythm of.
You should’ve guessed after the first few times he’d suggested you meet by moonlight rather than daylight that he was afflicted with the forbidden curse— that he was a vampire— but even back then you wouldn’t have cared.
Because Noe Archiviste was as captivating and handsome as he was charming and sweet, he was gentle and kind and compassionate and everything you’d grown up being told those of his kind were not. Because, to everyone else, vampires were monsters. They were cold and cruel, ruthless and ravenous, and among the worst of them were the wolves in sheep’s clothing, using pretty words and entrancing appearances to lure in their prey before sinking their teeth in deep.
Your Noe was the sun after a summer’s rain, warm and inviting. He was a home to return to after a long day, safe and familiar. He was the first face you looked for in a crowd, his name ready to fall from your lips as those two, lilting phantom syllables rested on your tongue.
Some days, you still found yourself reluctant to call what you two shared love, only for the fact that you’d both been keeping it a secret from everyone outside yourselves. But with all the feelings you held for him on a consistent basis in mind, how could what you felt for him be anything else?
You two were far more bonded than any human couple was. Noe knew the taste of your blood after all, had committed the flavor to memory, could distinguish it by a single drop alone. And you knew the imprint of his teeth just as well, craved the way his sharp incisors found a home in your supple flesh night after night, addicted to the ivory’s sharp and satisfying sting.
“Harder—” you breathed, gently writhing under Noe’s hold on you, though with no real means of escaping him. “Harder, Noe, please—!” You gasped as his bite sunk in a fraction deeper, drawing more rivulets of ruby red from the tender spot on your shoulder, sending a quick shudder down your spine, the sensation creeping vertebrae by vertebrae until it welled into the sticky, fluttering warmth of arousal pooling in your lower belly.
As his tongue lapped at the welling beads of red, slow and gentle to savor the taste of you, you let out a broken moan, body arching to follow the heat of his mouth. Noe was always so afraid to go too far, to lose control and end up hurting you, no matter how many times you assured him you wouldn’t ask for the pain if you didn’t want it. But he also couldn’t help but give in to your requests, even if sometimes it made his stomach twist with guilt.
The moment you started making those succulent, saccharine mewling sounds of pleasure though, it was as if all of his ice-dipped remorse melted away. He could drink down your whines and moans just as easily as he could your blood, meeting your mouth for a languid, tongue-entwined kiss, letting you taste your own blood as you parted your lips to let him in.
You’d asked him before what blood tasted like to vampires, said all you could make out from the coppery flavor was the wince-inducing bitterness that had you resisting the urge to screw up your features and spit it from your mouth. So it was hard to believe him when he described it as sweet— sometimes even sickly so— with a hint of pleasant salt and the lingering undertones of something that could only be compared to addiction.
But your part of this exchange didn’t require you to enjoy the taste. For you, it was the feeling— the completely embodied sensation— of what having your blood drunk by him felt like that urged you to keep seeking out his teeth.
It was heavenly. Pure ecstasy. It made you forget why humans had spent so many centuries fearing vampires, if only for the fact that, if it weren’t for you and Noe’s special bond, he probably could’ve drained you dry and left you for dead like the legends of old warned about.
There were still plenty of vampires lurking the streets and hiding in the shadows whose hunger had gone insatiable, morphing them into greedy, voracious monsters who couldn’t see any innocent life past all that gushing red. But your Noe was different. He’d held onto his morality longer than most of his kind would ever have the will to consider, let alone succeed at, and you guessed you could consider yourself pretty lucky that you’d run into him on that first fateful night rather than someone else more sinister and selfish.
“You ok…?” Noe asked in between shallow, panting breaths, his hands splayed on either side of your head as he gazed down at you, lips stained red and shining with your shared saliva, the tip of his tongue darting out to catch the fading crimson that remained. The next thing you felt was his palm, warm, now that his energy had been replenished from your blood, cradling your cheek. You lay underneath him, back sinking into the mattress and eyes closed as his shadow blanketed over your bare form, allowing yourself to drift off into the serenity that often followed Noe’s feedings.
You felt safe. Held. Comforted by his presence and by the fact that, during this act, you were two becoming one in a way few would ever know or understand.
Letting him drink from you often came after sex. It allowed a euphoric extension on the galaxy of pleasure that Noe’s body could coax from yours. It also ensured that he didn’t have too much strength to unleash upon your fragile human form, his pace slow and sensual as he buried himself deeper and deeper into you. But sometimes, like tonight, when he indulged in a feeding beforehand, well…
You knew you were going to be in for one hell of a ride.
“Maybe I took too much this time…” Noe muttered to himself in a low, worried tone as you felt the bed shift around you, your eyes fluttering open to watch as he changed position, carefully lifting your limp figure up to drape and rest against his chest before leaning back against the barrier of pillows that lined the headboard. He was carding his long fingers through your lightly tousled hair, mumbling sporadic thoughts under his breath under the false pretense that you’d drifted off to sleep. You thought you heard him say something about stopping there for the night, not wanting to push you past your limits.
That was enough to jolt you back to consciousness, just enough to stir in his grasp and breathe out a weak and airy, “Noe…” on account of still recovering from your recent blood loss. You lifted your head slightly to meet his eyes, which had now been leeched of their glowing, crimson color and turned back to calming lavender on account of his appetite being satisfied. You gave him a feeble, tired smile and said, “It’s ok… I’m ok. I can keep going…”
The vampire considered you for a moment. He knew you had a habit of pushing yourself, but before he could think on it too long, you were taking his face in your hands and luring him back to you with one of those adorable, delicate little giggles. “Noe, come on…” you reassured him with a smile, devotion sparkling in your eyes, “You know I trust you more than anyone else. Plus, even if you do hurt me a little bit…” You paused, feeling your cheeks heat before admitting what you were about to next, despite having done it several times to him already. “Even if you do hurt me, I don’t mind. I… like the pain, remember?”
Beckoning him closer to you now, letting him lay his head against your chest and cradling your arms around him like he was the delicate one, like he was the one worth worrying about and protecting, you carded your little fingers through his snowy locks of hair and softly spoke to him, telling him again that you trusted him, how you loved him, and as the words left your mouth you knew them to be true, no hesitation in the confession you’d been so afraid to acknowledge prior.
Noe could’ve sunk so far into the comfort you gave him he would’ve drowned in it, finding he was never as soft and sentimental with anyone else as when he was with you. He never allowed himself to let his guard down to such a level, for a moment forgetting that, outside of this room, you two were widely considered to be enemies— hunter and prey, a monster and a girl.
He sometimes used to wonder if he’d ever find someone he could love who would also love him in return, before meeting you. And what was a luckier, more divine thing than to have your own angel to hold? To have someone who thought and cared about you as much as you thought and cared about them?
“Alright…” Noe mumbled, his cheek pressed to your chest, listening to your beating heart, counting out each gentle drum of the steady rhythm. As he lifted his head to meet your tired, half-lidded gaze, he said, “But I need you to promise me one thing…” Rising further to sit up, the two of you across from one another, bodies bare and on display for each other to see, to have, to hold, Noe’s words dripped with earnesty as he said, “If things start to go too far, I need you to tell me.”
“Noe, I—”
But he cut you off, cupping your cheek in his palm. “I know we’ve talked about this before, but I also know you haven’t always been completely honest with me about it.” You resisted the urge to swallow down the lump of guilt that had curled up in your throat, unable to deny his concerned accusation. Softly stroking his thumb along your jaw, so feathery light you could barely feel it, he set his lilac gaze on your neck where his bite had already begun to bruise and scab over, now a deep shade of wine. He said, “It’s been a while since I— since we’ve done this after a feeding…”
He didn’t need to explain any further. You knew exactly what he was so worried about now— the fact that, last time he drank beforehand and not after, it had resulted in you with tears streaming down your face and several more bites and bruises to paint your skin while he’d been blinded by the carnality of it all. You’d barely been able to walk the next day, feeling like something inside of you had been broken beyond repair, and even though you’d tried to assure him you would be ok, deep down there had been some fear sparked in you.
The pain he’d caused you that night had surpassed the fine line of the sugar-coated, thorny pleasure that you craved and ended up as injury instead.
Noe had said he’d never allow himself to partake in your blood before sex again, though, after months of trying to convince him not every time had to be like that first one and that, while you couldn’t necessarily erase the memory, you could help fix it by replacing it with something better, you’d gotten him to come around.
“I promise,” you told him, reaching forward to take his hand. He laced his fingers with yours, careful even in that act, as if each new touch he bestowed upon you from now until morning held the risk of breaking his own vow. “If it gets to be too much, I’ll tell you.”
You felt relief when his lips twitched into a soft, dreamy grin, the expression there and then gone in an instant, becoming entranced with the way your little hand fit together with his, palms pressed together and creating more shared warmth, Noe able to feel your pulse through your skin and noting the way it was picking up speed a little as he placed his other hand on your knee and gave a gentle squeeze.
It was you who leaned in to kiss him then, catching him off guard for a moment until he followed your cue and allowed himself to melt back into you, the hand on your knee sliding up to rest on your bare thigh, kneading the plush flesh there, slow and savoring, as you combed your fingers through his hair and sighed into his mouth, your core already coiling again in tiny, tight little pulses as his fingers grew closer to brushing up against where you were already slick and waiting.
A tender, broken moan spilled from your mouth as his first finger slipped inside, testing your tightness and comfort before adding in a second and curling at his knuckles, causing you to arch your back and slide further down to lay flat for him, spreading your legs wider as he slowly scissored his digits inside of you, biting back his own moan when he felt your hole clenching around what was inside harder the more he stretched you.
He caught his bottom lip on one of his fangs, vehemently reminding himself to stay in control, don’t go too far, don’t hurt her as his own arousal pulsed thick and eager through his veins, that familiar sharp pang of adrenaline already beginning to surge.
He was starting to remember now— how hard it had been to stop once he’d started— and the thought made his stomach churn for a whole other reason. But you were right. This time didn’t have to be like the last. It wouldn’t be. He’d make sure of it.
Once he’d prepped you enough to take him, Noe began to line himself up with your entrance, feeling his own cock twitch in his hand as he caught sight of the glistening beads that drooled from your cunt, asking you if you were ok before nudging in the tip, pausing when you momentarily winced, only continuing when you nodded at him to signal it was alright for him to keep going.
And, god, you loved how you could feel every single vein and ridge of him as he carved out a home inside of you, the velvety flesh of his cock massaging every part of your insides like it had been designed to do so, both your bodies devoted and destined to learn each other in this way long before you’d even met. The sweet sting of him splitting you in two made your tummy tighten and flutter, your pussy squeezing around the length of him just enough to give a teasing taste of what he already expected was to come.
His breathing was soon beginning to pick up speed, Noe hoping to hide just how much you were affecting him already as he forced out even, shuddering huffs, hunching over you while he tried not to let himself go completely, no matter how badly he wanted to right now.
It made him remember something else he’d almost forgotten about that last time— just how much better you felt when he was inside you after he’d been replenished by your blood, all his senses alive, every nerve alight with the heightened vitality that he gained from a recent feeding. It’s what made this all so dangerous in the first place.
“It’s ok…” you assured him, your own chest moving with the shallow, panting breaths of anticipation as you remedied your prior words with, “I’m ok. I trust you…”
Noe wanted to believe he could trust himself too. And as he felt the animalistic urgency within him simmer a little, he figured it was alright to start moving.
As much as it killed him to go so slow, he forced himself to hold out, gradually rolling his hips to meet yours, your voices moaning in tandem, creating a lilting melody of pleasure with each inch he drove deeper into you and every constricting squeeze of your cunt around his cock.
“Harder—” you were telling him again, the request cracking with a breathy whine as you felt him brush against your cervix, sharp jolts sparking through your abdomen followed by the slow, syrupy drip of pleasure that ran thick through your blood. You felt Noe hesitate for a moment, but when you twisted your fingers through his silky white hair and gave a tug, he snapped his hips forward hard enough to shove you a few inches up the bed. A small yelp emitted from you, clipped with a satisfied mewl, and you loosened your fist in his hair, tenderly stroking the back of his neck, playing with the wispy tufts at the base of his skull as you whispered out, “That’s it… Just like that…”
Noe had to pin your wrists down then, find some way to keep you anchored as he prepared to pound into you harder, though not yet with the rigorous speed you both knew he was capable of. And when you asked him to bite you again, well…
That time, Noe just couldn’t tell you no.
Sinking his teeth into your unmarked shoulder and feeling the skin break, more of your warm, sticky blood flooding into his mouth, Noe drank down gulp after gulp in rapid succession. This made him forget to mind his strength for a moment, and as you fell more slack under his hold, lulled by the euphoria of having your blood drunk by him for the second time that night, he nearly lost you.
He came back to his senses just in time, his saliva filled mouth pulling away from the new bite with a glittering strand of diluted reddish-pink bowing and snapping back onto the crook between your neck and shoulder.
He was partially horrified with himself, and for a moment wondered if he’d finally gone too far, past the point of no return, but was able to exhale a sigh of relief when you fluttered open your tired, bleary eyes and your shallow breathing registered to his sensitive hearing.
“I don’t think I can do this…” the vampire admitted under his breath, sounding disappointed in himself as he pulled out of you and used the pad of his thumb to swipe up a drop of red that was slowly dripping down towards your collar bones, shamelessly licking it away before casting you a quick, guilty glance. “I’m going to hurt you again. I know I am. I—”
Trying to prop yourself up onto your elbows in a way that was less than graceful, to say the least, you blinked the blood loss from your vision until Noe came back into focus. After a few minutes the swaying sensation of lightheadedness abated and you were able to roll yourself over, laying on your stomach as you stared at him sitting on the edge of the bed and looking stressed and conflicted.
You might’ve been able to call it a night, if not for the fact that you were still burning up inside with the need to release all this pent up arousal, so you decided to try approaching things from a different angle.
“Hey…” You lightly ran your fingertips along his spine, watching his back muscles flex as he turned partially to glance over his shoulder at you. “Lay down.”
Noe was already beginning to apologize, though for what exactly, you weren’t sure— as far as you were concerned, he’d done nothing wrong other than stop before letting you come— but you pressed a finger to his lips before he could finish his spoken atonement. 
You had him right where you wanted him— right where you needed him now. “Stop talking,” you said, climbing atop him once he was laying flat on his back, straddling him as you took his face in both your palms, his hands quickly reaching for your hips to help steady you when you began to sway slightly, still not fully recovered from the blood loss.
You were staring at him, desperately searching all that alluring lavender for any sign that he understood, and he was staring back at you as if he were being touched by god, completely enraptured by the gentle light in your eyes alone. “Let me take care of you,” you murmured, the moment of revelation drifting away. “You always do such a good job at taking care of me…” Taking his still hard cock in your hand, a small smirk curving on your lips when you felt him slightly tense beneath you, his stomach flinching, you lined it up with your entrance once more. “It’s my turn now.”
Noe let out a stuttering breath of ecstasy as you sunk down on him, both of you needing less time to catch your breath now but no less urgent in your need for each other. And as you began to grind your hips down on him, your clit rubbing hard against his pelvic bone every time you rolled forward and making your eyes tip to the back of your head, Noe kept a firm grip on your hips, helping to pull you down further onto his cock every time you lifted off again.
The glowing illumination of the midnight moon drenched your silhouette as you rode him, Noe admiring the way the light shone on your dewy skin, pretty tits bouncing as you began to pick up speed, your head thrown back, neck exposed and mouth hanging open with silent ecstasy as you approached closer and closer to the edge.
Noe was close too, beginning to buck his hips up into you to match your rhythm towards the end, still so strong even when he wasn’t trying that hard, making your toes curl as you twisted the bed sheets tight in your fists, hunching over him as your trembling legs felt like they were about to give out, thighs burning from the exertion and sweat gathering in the crooks of your folded knees, a new, high-pitched moan tumbling from your throat with each thrust.
And, god, when you both came at the same time, you swore you saw spots of heaven blinking in your vision, falling forward to drape yourself over him completely, squeezing every last drop from him as his cock spurt thick ropes of cum inside of you, enough to ooze out of your abused little hole and drip in thick, creamy dollops back onto him where you two remained connected until Noe mustered up enough strength to take your limp form in his arms and carefully sit up just enough to pull out of you, keeping you cradled against his warm chest until you actually did doze off.
Gently setting you aside, pulling a sheet across your naked body to shield you from the chill while he went to fetch a damp, warm washcloth to clean you up with, Noe was haunted by the fact that, for as many times as you two had been together before, it had never been quite as good as that.
Haunted, only for the fact that it had still been a dangerous risk to take. Yet still, a risk he had a feeling he’d be unable to talk you out of taking again.
He noted the various bruises speckled about your body as he cleaned you, dark blotches in the shape of his fingertips where they’d dug into your hips, more scattered across your thighs, your wrists, around the bites on both sides of your shoulders and along your neck where he’d branded you with hickies he hadn’t even remembered deciding to mark you with.
After leaving to fix himself up and returning again, Noe checked your pulse, two fingers pressed softly to the side of your neck, just to make sure his worst fear hadn’t come to pass. He flinched minutely when your little hand reached up to cup his, a sated smile spread across your lips, eyes still closed as you muttered out, “See… told you I’d be ok…”
Noe’s grin was a little more incredulous than anything, but as he gently stroked the side of your head, smoothing back some strands of tousled hair from your sweet face he adored gazing upon so much, he was just glad that you were alright this time around.
Curling up beside you, pressing a chaste peck to your forehead, Noe told you he loved you through a tired, dreamy sigh. Only then did you open your eyes, pupils dilated to swallow the color of your irises in the dark, and whispered back to him, like a promise, like a prayer, “I love you too…” After that, all you could remember was the darkness of encroaching unconsciousness and the familiar, comforting heat of his body entangled with yours, asleep and safe in each other’s arms at the end of another unforgettable night.
***
(Hello and thank you so much for reading! I really can’t believe it’s already been two years since I made this blog and started writing/posting fanfiction. Time really flies huh?
Anway, I’d like to take this time to give a big thank you to everyone who follows me, reads my work, and takes the time to leave likes or nice comments. It really makes my day :)
I look forward to being able to share the fics I have in the works going forward with you all. Hope you have a wonderful day and remember to be kind to yourself <3)
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moodymisty · 3 months
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Author's Note: Inspired by this post. You can blame all of the unhinged horniness there for this unhinged horniness. Someone there put the idea down as space wolves or Luna wolves and I chose Luna wolves because @bispecsual gave me the brain rot. And since I'm a massive masochist, I write.
Relationships: Like five unnamed Luna Wolves/Fem!Reader
Warnings: Vaguely NSFW, Very hornily charged bullying, Astartes are very curious and grabby, Demeaning speech, Just imagine you're that one girl on the couch in the meme surrounded by massive dudes but those dudes are 8 foot tall genetic abominations, Gangbang implications(?) my warning tags are getting weird as fuck
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To the Luna Wolves, serfs are a new idea- a curiosity.
But after their good deeds upon a planet of little known renown and placement in the galaxy, a few of their population offered to serve them.
Before them, most serfs were primarily stationed on Terra, and on Luna Wolves ships instead those roles were given to low ranking tech priests, or penal labor. Even then however the Astartes saw them rarely, until now.
Some of the newly conquered planet offered sons as aspirants, of which they eagerly accepted. The Luna Wolves have been eager to grow their numbers now under Horus’ leadership.
Others, older and ablebodied, offered themselves to serve as serfs.
Many Luna Wolves can't remember the last time they've seen a normal human for more than a few moments, ushering them to safely into a Stormbird or pushing them from a firefight. Or seeing their corpse flung on the far reaches of a battlefield, out of sight and mind.
In their brief periods of reprieve from battle, it's now been a struggle for their captains and lieutenants to keep their men on task, now that serfs scurry around them completing various tasks. Particularly for the youngest marines among them, it's been a constant to stop them from reaching towards the serfs, interrupting their sanctioned duties.
They will get to you once finished with your brothers, is what the current quartermaster on duty or Astartes captain says. Though haste to have their armor cleaned or bolter clips loaded isn't the thing on their mind, but instead an almost dog-like curiosity.
But after their superiors leave, they always end up crowding around you again. These astartes have barely seen baseline humans in decades, let alone a woman.
It's suffocating.
You were nothing on your home planet. Insignificant. You’d hoped joining them would bring you purpose, something to be proud of. And to get off the planet that had you feeling so trapped. And while you got your wish, in a way the thing trapping you had merely changed form.
They have you cornered in the armoring room now; Like Wolves. You went from trapped on that no name planet to trapped by five different astartes. Your palms feel hot and sweaty, but not as hot as your face.
“You’re so small, you’re going to get lost on the ship,” One says.
He grabs for your chin and holds it for a moment, forcing you to look into his grey eyes. they're stoic, but you can see he's enjoying something about this. Though he allows you to shrink away and out of his grip, looking downward at their chest armor. Or anywhere else that isn't their faces.
“Or trampled,” Says another. The one who spoke previous gives him a sour look before passively aggressively replying.
“We’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”
One who hasn't spoken yet has his top armor removed, his lower half unpowered. He was training, using it as dead weight. Training concluded blood now drips down from his nose and lips but is mostly dried, partly covered healing bruises. If he looks like this, you can't help but wonder how his opponent looks.
It’s distracting.
You don’t know if it’s some sort of illness or insanity from being locked in this ship for so long; It makes him look more attractive. You hope to whatever deity or god or whatever exists out in the stars that he doesn't notice you’re staring. That he doesn't notice the way your heart is pounding in your chest and what feels like your cunt as well.
He does. As do the others. You can't kid yourself and think that with their hearing and smell that they haven't noticed that you're boiling alive, and that your body is screaming fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me-
“He won. Out of one hundred men.”
Your gut twists and the marine behind you laughs quietly. It's deep, enough so that you swear you can feel it in your chest. You would squeeze your thighs together for some relief, but you don’t think you can without stumbling over.
“She likes the winners. Looks like you’re out.” He gestures to a fellow marine that gives him another sour look. You briefly wonder what he lost at to deserve such a jab.
“I should return to my duties,”
You meekly say, hoping to remove yourself from the embarrassment and scurry away to another quarter of the ship.
One of them blocks your path and traps you from leaving, picking you up by the armpits and holding you before putting you back down between them all. It's like you weigh nothing to them, and that they can simply jostle and swing you around like a toy.
“I’ll tell your quartermaster you were helping us.” He jerks his head in the direction of a marine clad in only the casual clothing they wear out of their ceramite. Now the focus of your attention he rolls his shoulder, and you can see the muscles of his neck and around his collarbone flex.
You swallow a knot in your throat that felt like it was going to choke you. Your hands clench tight, nails sharp against your palms. You're going to have a heart attack, you swear it. Tears well in your eyes but they don't break your waterline just yet, from sheer will alone. If any of them say another word, call you cute, small, soft, that you smell so sweet, you swear they’ll roll down your cheeks like a waterfall.
“He wants you to put on his armor. The others are always so rough, you’re so gentle with those little hands.”
The marine reaches for you, and in your back step you stumble and accidentally bump into the one who hasn't spoken at all; Just watching and sitting. You stumble over his massive armored boot and end up falling into a sit on his thigh, legs parted over it. His massive armored hand comes to grip your waist, to keep you from falling over. It covers a good portion of your stomach in the process.
You’re so tightly wound just the simple pressure alone is enough to have you clamp a hand your mouth to avoid letting out a moan that would kill you right then and there, if you weren’t already dead. Your knees quiver, toes just barely touching the ground. His massive height makes it impossible to fully stand with his thigh between your legs.
You know they can smell the way you’re leaking and staining your underwear, hear the way your heart is racing like it's going to explode. You’re half afraid you might make his ceramite thigh plate slick.
You can feel their eyes on you. They look at you like you’re food thrown to a pack of starving wolves.
One suddenly steps forward, and pushes his battle brother out of his way with a harsh slam of ceramite on ceramite before undoing the latch his belt.
“I go first.”
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insomniac-dot-ink · 1 year
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Wolves at the Door
In a tidy well-built home on the outskirts of a village on the outskirts of the world, lives a doe in homespun skirts. MaryAnne lives in her ancestral home with antlers nailed to the mantle. Aged enough to be an old maid but not old enough for it to be charming, a howling comes for her. 
Oh, the Beast Folk of the north know better than to live alone. Lighting candles in the darkest months. Hanging Evil Eye charms in their windows to ward off wickedness. MaryAnne, all the same, cuts her own firewood and pickles her own vegetables. She survives the winter.
That is until that howling comes. Wolves are at her door. 
Claws scratch at the wood. A long snout snuffles at the windowsill. A voice croons, as they always do, in a plaintive song. In those long months, the villagers and MaryAnne bury their faces in their arms. Stuff their ears with wax. Cluster together if they can. That is how you made it through a winter in the north.
Yet, a howling comes.
That year, MaryAnne forgot to restock her wax. Too late to go out, she curls into a ball on the hard floor, buries her face, and refuses to look up. A voice floats through the cracks.
“Little doe.” A growl. “Why do you hide inside your nest?”
Mustn’t answer. A female wolf casts a long shadow through the window. Backlit by a yellow moon. She has a voice for turning wine to honey. MaryAnne squeezes her eyes shut tighter.
“You’ll turn to dust within these walls. Nothing left but bones.” The voice laughs, guttural and wind-rough. Heavy steps sound from outside, crunching in the snow. “The breeze is fresh. The snow is young. A night for running.”
Mustn't answer to the night.
“They have marked your door with Juniper. Tell me, what makes you so unlucky?”
A whine escapes from deep within MaryAnne’s chest. There is no escaping rumors it seems– even among wolves. A gentle sun-tanned face flashes through her mind’s eye. He is smiling there. The memory frays at the edges in an instant, like crumpling paper by the fire. He is frozen in that eternal melancholy look. Like he knew what was coming.
MaryAnne lets out a second hiccup of sound.
“There you are.” The voice laughs long and harrowed. A scratch drags down her door, rattling the hinges. “Why don’t you come out?”
“Leave me alone!” Her voice is hoarse from disuse. “Leave before I, before I. . . Leave!"
Oh no. She had answered. What a silly girl she was. The beast outside throws her head back and howls. And howls still.
—--------
Days pass in which MaryAnne doesn't hear the howling. She sweeps and mends and peels peas. Sometimes, the doe wakes in the predawn hours, half-frozen and shivering. She stokes the dead embers and looks out. Faded stars and quilted black look back at her. The night is quiet then, peeled to its barest layers and forgiving. An exhale. 
But those aren’t most days. A howling comes at her door. MaryAnne's ears begin to ring with it. She dreams of fangs and rust-colored waters. In the light of day, MaryAnne rubs at her eyes until she sees spots and some curling grin remains. I won’t survive the winter, she thinks. My time has come.
MaryAnne goes to the village Wise Woman. 
She trudges through the glittering snow and ducks behind trees when strangers pass. Mother Grace lived near the outskirts of town too. Though unlike MaryAnne, footprints ring her squat home– deep grooves of movement. MaryAnne follows the grooves and creeps forward like she might fade into her own shadow. 
The house is dark evergreen and churns enormous plumes of smoke. Charms for luck hang in the window and MaryAnne averts her gaze. Some of them look like pawed feet. She hunches her shoulders, tugs at her sleeves, and lifts a hand to the entrance. A door thick as slabs of good brown bread swings open at her touch. 
“Hello?” she calls into the gloom. “I am MaryAnne. Daughter of . . .” She doesn’t finish the thought. If there was one thing to know of Mother Grace, it is that she hates tedious things. “Mother Grace, I have come to ask you of the world. I’ve come to ask you what wolves fear.”
“Questions, questions.” A grumbling answers her. “For yourself, child? Or some grand cougar king. Conquering their enemies.”
“For me. Yes. Myself. I am, I’m a doe.” MaryAnne stumbles forward and eyes adjust to the dimness.
“I can smell that.”
An old woman sits before a stone shelf, wrapped in blankets and surrounded by books. An iron stove dominates the living space and the air shimmers with heat. Mother Grace rocks back and forth in her chair. She is entombed in pillows, waiting to remind the young that the winter is long. And bound to grow longer.
MaryAnne repeats her question. “Do you know how to rid yourself of wolves?” How to escape being hunted? She dare not speak those words into existence though. Hunted. Cursed anew.
The woman grumbles under her breath once more. Grey-haired and petite, her rabbit ears hang long and limp down her shoulders. Her milky eyes were unseeing and body bent forward. Yet, her bearing is steady and unflinching. MaryAnne wishes in some distant way she could embody the same self-assured air. A knowledge of herself, good or bad.
Unable to bear it any longer, she repeats herself. “Please. Wolves are at my door. You are the most learned Folk. What do they fear?”
Mother Grace doesn't look at MaryAnne as she speaks. Her voice creaks. “I cannot say. Fear is a shifting thing. Wolves, too, shifting creatures." The Wise Woman grunts a dry laugh. “Hard to separate the two.”
"Ah,” MaryAnne says like she understands, heart sinking to the bottom of her shoes. 
Mother Grace sets her jaw and looks past her. "Go to the mulberry tree at sunset and bow your head. Speak true and earnestly.” The Wise Woman gnashed her gums. “It will show you how to greet a wolf.”
MaryAnne swallows. “Will that save me?” 
The wisewoman does not answer.
—-------
The sun sets in in a purpling line, sending the towns folk scurrying behind their locked doors. The Beast Folk know better than to linger alone after dark. But MaryAnne is Juniper-marked and given a task. She approaches the Mulberry tree in the shadow of a hill. Red ribbons tied in its bare branches and framed by twilight.
MaryAnne bows her head and kneels on the snowy earth, her cheeks pinched with cold. The knees of her pants soaking through.
“How do you escape a wolf?”
The Mulberry bush sways in the wind. The ribbons turn a dull navy in the light and MaryAnne shivers.
Two knotted eyes blink and the nymph bows back. Her hair sticks straight in the air– naked branches reaching for sky. She considers MaryAnne for a long moment. 
“Your father came to me once. Asking questions.” A pause follows that could suck the marrow out of bones. “He could not deter his fate. You may not be able to either."
“Please.” MaryAnne swallows over and over, suppressing the stinging in her eyes. “There is a wolf at my door. She will not leave. She has my scent.”
“Ah,” the Nymph says, pity trapped in her wispy vowels. “A Stray perhaps of their terrible rituals. The Bone Cities are far and often cruel. Come closer, girl. I may teach you to greet a wolf and thus defer her task a while longer.”
—-------
The wind whips against MaryAnne’s walls, battering the sides of her home. The dark wood was tightly joined and held. A syrupy silver light bathed the snow outside and MaryAnne’s eyelids grew heavy. She had been watching her door since she returned from the Mulberry tree.
And it had not ceased since the moon arose. A long cry mixed with the violent gusts of wind. A howling. MaryAnne’s shoulders set in a hard line, back aching and mood even more dour. Let it be over, she prays to the Great Mother Doe. Though, who knew if the starry mother listened. Let the wolf go home empty-handed.
MaryAnne’s head nods to her chest, jerking upright at the first sound. A scratch peels down her front door. Claws against wood. 
“Little doe, why do you hide?” the wolf sings in that beseeching tone. 
MaryAnne does not bother to curl into a ball. She straightens to her full height, nubby horns facing the door as if she might charge. Fangs flash in her mind’s eye and she takes deep breaths. MaryAnne forces her legs to work.
"Good evening," she booms. An imitation of how she imagines governesses speak to future kings. MaryAnne bows before the door, taking her time falling to her knees. Her chest tightens-- a thrum of terrible life. “I am pleased to meet you."
“Pleased?” The wolf sounds amused. Perhaps wolves can always afford that.
“Yes.” In slow increments, MaryAnne brings her wrists near the crack under the door. Bile rises in her throat and she pushes closer. “I see you've come to call on me. Perhaps I may have you over for tea. Do you take it with cream or sugar?”
The laugh is thunderous. A long snuffling follows and MaryAnne thinks she imagines whiskers under the crack.
“You smell like fear. Are you afraid?”
“Always,” MaryAnne says bitterly. “Is that not our nature? You, at our doors. Me inside my home. But you could knock.”
“I have a home too, you know,” the voice purrs. “Many leagues away and by the sea. Perhaps you might enjoy running to it.”
“You may have me over for tea,” she keeps her tone even. “Come back in the morning to exchange invitations. I have stationary you might borrow.”
Hot air blows against her wrist. The wolf audibly inhales. “You think yourself clever. Juniper-marked and clever.”
“What else could I be?” Her voice trembled and she didn’t like the way it broke on the last words.
“I can make a few suggestions.” The crunch of heavy paws against the snow. “Open up the door and I will show you.”
“I am pleased to make your acquaintance,” MaryAnne grits out despite herself. Run, run, run. her mind says. Her feet say. But the Mother Doe isn’t there to light her way. “My name is MaryAnne. I would like to invite you to tea.”
The door gives a violent shake, a weight thrown against it. Dust rains from the rafters. The hinges shrieks and the wolf lets out a howl to match. The door holds– as it was meant to.
Life spikes in her chest this time and fills her belly with warmth. MaryAnne holds herself perfectly still, wrists shoved to the crack in the door. 
“I am Shier of the Northern Pack,” the wolf spit out the words. “You may keep your twice-damned tea.”
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