#it’s hard to explain but my body just moves of it’s own accord and i KNOW what to do with my limbs bc you just kind of have to | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thefantasyden · 3 months

Text

Stray Kids reaction to you crying during sex

Smut and fluff under the cut, you know the drill xx

Chris:

A little concerned at first but feels his heart swell when he hears you whispering "fuck, please. So good!" He's thinks it's kind of horribly cute and he loves you so much that the fact that you're crying because he's making you feel so good makes him feel like he might burst with joy. Definitely coos at you lovingly and puts a little extra force into his thrust. He really wants to make sure he's hitting the perfect spot with every thrust to make you see stars (or hearts, I suppose.) It makes him feel good to physical see the tears dripping down your cheeks as you veg him not to stop.

"That's my baby. So pretty crying for me. Love making you feel good, baby."

Lee Know:

His goal when he started fucking you was to make you cry and he is so proud when he succeeds. With him, it probably happened when you'd had a particularly hard day and he was taking things extra slow, making sure you came as many times as you could take with just his pretty fingers curling inside of you because he knew you had a hard time getting your emotions out and this was a sure fire way to get you some physical and mental release. He'd insist on making sure you were a sobbing mess before he asked you what was wrong and he would kiss your tear stained cheeks when he heard you say "it's... so much..." while griding down on his fingers.

"Go on, cry for me more baby. I know you need it. Let it out for me, okay?"

Changbin:

Poor thing is so confused at first. He had his body pressed firmly against yours, pinning you to the mattress with his full weight on top of yours and fucking you hard and deep just the way you liked it when you suddenly burst into sobs. He asks if he did something wrong and is still worried even after you tell him it feels good. He'll gently coax you into explaining after the fact and when he finally understands that you were crying because of how intimate and overwhelming it was to have him feel so unbearably close to you, he just wants to do it over and over again. It's his mission moving forward to love you so much (and so deliciously deep) that you'll cry just for him.

"Love you so much. Binnies pretty angel. You can cry baby, it's okay."

Hyunjin:

Hyunjin's brain short circuits and he sees your tears before he hears your cries. His hips falter and his thrust come to a complete halt, scared he might cum instantly as he registers just how pretty you look with tear stained cheeks and wet, glassy eyes. He very nearly tears up himself, overwhelmed by how much love he feels for you. It takes a minute of you begging and whimpering for him to keep going before he's fucking you again. It's much harder than it was before and he feels dizzy and out of control thanks to how desperate he is to see more of you're beautiful, absolutely wrecked face.

"Shit... baby you look like a fucking masterpiece. Need more of you. Please."

Han:

Sweet boy Hanji would 100% be tearing up too. You've been going at it for hours and you just can't get enough of each other. His face is buried in your neck, forearms hooked under your shoulders as your own wrap around his back to hold him tightly against you. He hears you sniffle and it's all he needs to start bawling of his own accord due to the mixture of overwhelming love and painfully delicious overstimulation as he gets close to coming for what feels like the 100th time. He clumsily pulls you into a very messy, wet kiss that's mostly tongues and choked whimpers.

"Feels so good. So so so so good. Need more. Need you. Love you so much!"

Felix:

Briefly freaks out just a little bit. Felix wants to make sure you always feel loved and respected during sex because he quite honestly worships the ground you walk on, so you crying immediately makes him think he's hurt you in some way. He doesn't immediately pull out, but he's completely stopped thrusting and is sitting up holding your face in his delicate hands, asking if you're okay and what happened. He calms down once you explain that it's just a lot of overwhelming pleasure because he makes you feel unbearably good. He asks if you're sure you wanna continue and is so sweet and gentle when you do, kissing all over your face and stroking your cheek.

"You'll tell me if I hurt you, right? I only wanna make you feel good baby."

Seungmin:

I actually think he could go either way. He's a switchy boy sometimes so I think once he realises you're crying because it's good, he'll either become a whiny mess, thrusting at a hard but messy pace and telling you how good you feel, begging you to tell him he's doing a good job or he'll be cooing at you mockingly asking if it's too much for you to take and if you need a break cause you can't handle him. I dont think he'd be confused at all though, because he himself has definitely felt so good he's cried before.

"Aw honey. Is it too much? Feels too good, doesn't it? Should I stop?"

I.N:

He is. Confusion. He definitely hears you mumbling something, but it's all slurred and makes no sense. He doesn't stop, but he slows down and kind of just stares at you for a minute before awkwardly asking why you're crying, which does make him stop so that you can catch your breath. He's surprised by how much it turns him on when you tell him that it just felt too good and it spurs him on to go harder, actively trying to make you cry and whine more for him because he just feels so damn proud that he can actually fuck you that good.

"I make you feel that good? Really? I should make you cry more often then..."

#stray kids smut #bang chan smut #chan smut #skz smut #lee know smut #minho smut #changbin smut #hyunjin smut #jisung smut #han smut #felix smut #seungmin smut #i.n smut #jeongin smut #thefantasyden

1K notes · View notes

lupinmoonlight · 8 months

Text

Sinful

Masterlist AO3

Summary - You experience your first orgasm dry humping your DADA professor on his desk. He, in turn, makes a mess all over you. (612 words)

Warnings - Teacher/student relationship, dry humping, innocence kink if you squint, age gap, my grammar (english is my second language), not proof read.

Notes - This is just smut without plot. I just felt like writing a short piece before bed! Good night ~

An innocent "Y/N, may I have a word?" after your DADA class had led to you now being pinned to Professor Lupin's desk, legs spread as he stood between them. You lifted your hips instinctively, your body reacting to his evident arousal. The warmth of your body through the thin fabric of your skirt was maddening to him. You could feel the hard ridge of his length pressing intently against his trouser.

You began moving against him tentatively, little uncertain sways of your hips that had him biting his lip to stifle a moan. He tried his best to stay still, to let you explore the new sensations, but every slight brush, every subtle grind was driving him closer and closer to the edge.

"That's it, Y/N", he murmured hoarsely, his voice dripping with lust.

Your breaths were fast, your cheeks flushed with arousal, and the little moan you let out went straight to his core. "Professor...I've never...I don't-" you tried to explain, but words failed you.

"It's okay," he reassured you, cupping your cheek with one hand while he anchored you to him with the other on your waist. "Let go for me. Feel it, love. Let me feel you."

The soft whimper that you released had him nearly undone. "Professor," you whispered, the overwhelming sensations crashing over you as your whole body tensed up against him.

"That's it, good girl," he whispered in praise against your neck.

The knowledge that he had been the cause of your pleasure, that he had brought you to that pinnacle of bliss for the first time, snapped the last threat of his restraint. "F-fuck", he growled, grinding himself against you with abandon, chasing that mind-numbing pleasure. "I'm close."

In the heat of the moment, his hands, shaky with need, slid beneath your skirt, fingers brushing over the fabric of your panties, feeling the warmth and dampness there. With a low growl, His hips began moving on their own accord, the desperate grind of his arousal evident in his every movement. The friction, the heat of your body, was intoxicating. "I'm so close...fuck, I'm going to come," he warned you, the words coming out ragged and breathless.

With a few hurried thrusts, the overwhelming sensation became too much. Fumbling with his trousers, he managed to unbutton them just in time, freeing himself from the restricting fabric, his fingers closing around his length. Lifting the hem of your skirt, his eyes darkened at the sight of your thighs and soaked panties.

As the impending rush of his climax approached, he aimed himself at you, giving himself a few hard, rough strokes. A string of curses fell from his lips, "Ah, fuck..." he moaned as thick ropes of warmth spilled onto the lace of your skin, hot and sticky. His hand continued to move, prolonging the sensation, making sure every drop, every spurt landed on you in a possessive display.

"Merlin," he panted, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot against your lips. Taking a moment to recover, he looked down at the debauched scene. Your face was a picture of flushed innocence and surprise, your lips slightly parted as you too, tried to catch your breath. The remnants of his climax, still warm against your skin, was a foreign but not unwelcome sensation. The sight was sinful. Erotic. Wrong. Intoxicating.

With a hand still resting on your thigh, he leaned down, pressing a soft, almost reverent kiss to your lips. "We're a mess," you murmured, a small smile forming as you felt the warmth of his breath against your skin. "Apologies for that," he replied, although he didn't mean it.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #professor lupin #professor lupin x reader #remus lupin smut #smut #hp #hp fanfic

674 notes · View notes

widowbitessting · 7 months

Text

Imagine….💦 (NSFW)

After the first time Baby sleeps with the Trio, she only manages to cum once she gets really self conscious about sleeping with them…convincing herself she’s broken…the Trio notice somethings wrong and eventually coax it out of her and the Baby is mortified. Convinced she is broken, but the Trio calm her down and explain to her that she isn’t.

“You just haven’t found the right sexual partners yet, baby girl.” Carol says.

“It’s hard to make yourself cum more than once.” Natasha says into your ear.

“But with us, your body will just react. Let us take control of you. Don’t overthink it. Don’t fight it. Just feel.” Wanda says.

So the next time the Trio take you to bed, they take you to bed. They coax your first orgasm out of you nice and slow; you finish on Carol’s fingers with Natasha’s tongue deep in your mouth and Wanda’s teeth in your neck.

After that, they’re still on you…just not inside of you. Letting you have a second to just jerk and feel your orgasm. Whispering dirty things into your ears to keep you squirming and wet. So, so wet.

And when they bring out a toy and order you to climb on - carefully - you do as you're told. Even if you're blushing red. They swarm you, never once leaving your skin; fingers lips, teeth.

And when Natasha clicks the toy on you all but jerk and nearly fly off. But Wanda keeps you down.

"You'll be sensitive. But I know you can do it."

Your back arches as your clit fully makes contact and you eyes flutter shut. Your hips move on their own accord. You're chasing the sensation between your legs and God, it feels so good.

Carol bites down on your nipples and you squeak, hips jerking so fast you all hear the squelch down there.

"Someone is very wet for us, hmm?" Natasha drags your bottom lip between her teeth. "You're so fucking hot, baby girl. Fuck."

When it gets switched to the medium setting, your hips move faster and your breathing comes out in lewd gasps, head lolling back as you can feeling another orgasm brewing.

"Oh...oh..."

"That's it baby."

"Ride it like the good girl you are."

"Maybe next time you can ride daddy's cock huh? Let us guide your hips...fuck you into oblivion as many times as we want?"

You don't know who does it but the toy is switched to the highest setting and you chase your orgasm so intently you let swear word after swear word slip from your mouth.

And when it hits you, that powerful wave of sheer, hot, pleasure, you double forward and scream into the mattress, body spasming and jerking as wave after wave flows through you.

Someone kisses your spine and you slump off the toy and onto the bed. The other switches the toy off and a pair of lips meet your own.

You're breathing hard. Gasping for breath.

"You're okay, baby girl. Our good girl." Wanda whispers.

"I - I didn't, wow. Oh."

"How was that, my love?" Natasha asks.

You can't even form sentences. You can only nod as you let out a little laugh.

"We knew you had it in you." Carol smiles.

From then on, the Trio never let you just have one orgasm.

No, they own your body.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

#natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #carol danvers #reader insert #sugar mommies #sugar mommies!asks #spiderbites #smu #natasha x wanda x carol x reader #sugar mommies drabbles #sugar mommies drabble #18+ only #18+ content #sugar mommies imagine

452 notes · View notes

krahk · 2 months

Text

Blood for Ruin

Part One

Masterlist

Thank you all so much for the love and support for Part One, it is always so scary sharing brain children. You are all amazing.

Part Two

(Or, Alastor Proves he Makes a Shit Hotel Host by Bullying a Murder Victim)

By the time you opened your eyes, you had been moved to a bed, a comfy bed, in a warm lit room that was modestly decorated. And you were alone, thank god. Sitting up on the edge of the bed and kicking the sheets off as you straightened up. You stretched in a vain attempt to bring yourself some comfort, at least in body if not the mind. Doing this however, resulted in an immediate eye opening panic, because the sides of your arms brushing against either side of your head caught onto nothing.

Y’no, nothing. Nothing where ears should be. Looking around frantically, there was a cracked door heading into what was possibly a bathroom- please god, please be a bathroom. You body checked the frame as you ran in, muttering a whiny ‘ow’ before flicking a switch that turned on the overhead lights by the sink. Door open, lights on aaaand yep. Yep, yep yep. Ears missing. Hyperventilating now, you stumbled to the vanity and braced yourself on the ledge, staring into your own reflection as the panic began to set in.

Hell took your ears!? This was fucking ridiculous. Could one bitch to the devil? But also…how…how were you hearing? Because you definitely could hear. In fact you could hear better than before, like the wind outside rattling against something and a creak from the walls possibly 2 rooms over. Your brain might have been empty of explanation but your ears more than made up for it in what you heard. You leaned towards the mirror, turning your head back and forth trying to figure out what had happened to you. Then you felt it, a twitch, a little itch, at the very top of your head. Eyes drifted upwards to the pair of soft brown ears (?) That didn't quite point straight up, instead pointing more in a 45 degree angle. The left one was flicking of its own accord. The scream that left your mouth was instinctual, and loud.

Almost immediately you heard a knocking at the door and Charlie waltzed in, breathing hard, indicating the speed in which she came to your need. You spun around to meet her eyes, hands whipping to the very soft - so soft - ears utop your crown, breath shaking as you tried to get control over yourself.

“Ooohhh, yes, yes you’ve discovered your adorable new features! Thank goodness, I was so worried!” Charlie said, hands waving in front of her before clasping them together on her chest. “Everyone who comes to hell as a sinner takes on a delightful new appearance that reflects the way they lived and died! It’s a great way for you to meet new people and uh…learn to live a better life in spite of them! Many people take on animal appearances, my dad thinks it’s because every soul transcends the image of a human body.”

Still taking large breaths to keep yourself from screaming, your stuttering proof of your inability to form basic words, Charlie continued.

“Angel Dust is a spider, we think because he was involved in a ‘web of crime’ with his exciting mafia family - Husk…well okay Husk is interesting because I’m pretty sure cats in the overworld don’t have wings but he was a gambler before death so maybe he was just lucky to get wings too! You know, cards fell in his favour ha-haaa…” She trailed off awkwardly, face scrunching in a manner that you understood as her realising maybe she wasn’t explaining any part of this new discovery very well. She rubbed the back of her head with one hand, the other one placing itself on her hip. “Alastor is a deer demon, and it looks like you could be one too! I mean, you’ve got similar ears, although yours are much cuter because they are kind of floppy. And your nose is so cute! Like a baby doe! You’re pretty adorable honestly.”

You glanced at the mirror again, hands finally falling to your face to rest on your chin with your fingers covering your mouth lightly, spaced apart to allow your haggard breathing to come in and out. She was right, you did have a cute nose, it was similar to Charlie’s in appearance, and your ears did closely resemble the ears of a hooved forest animal. They reminded you of a mule deer's ears, the only deers you ever saw in Oregon (where your home was). Looking closer at yourself without the same level of panic your eyes moved back and forth rapidly taking in the new details of your person. Your skin all around was a sort of fawn colour, if fawn the colour could look dead. It was as if Bambi had died and his fur turned an ashier colour devoid of the warmth of active blood. That was you! Your ears were a dark blonde peppered with black, complimenting the soft blondish brown of your hair. Fingertips and nails were black, the black creeping up your arms before ending below the sleeve of your short sleeved pyjama top. You looked down and poked your foot out a bit to see if your lower limbs matched and hooray…they did.

In another world, maybe one where this was a costume, you would admit that you were cute out loud. However denial was still the leading emotion so you just slightly nodded at yourself before slowly turning around to face your gracious host once more.

“So. I’m a deer, so that’s a fun new fact…will I stay this way while I’m…here?” You winced at your admission of hell being your new place of residency.

“Yup!” Charlie replied in a chipper voice.

”And if I manage to get to heaven…will I change into something new?”

Charlie paused, the hand that was on her head had shifted to her chin, finger now tapping in pensive thought. “Hmm, I’m not sure? But from what my dad has said, humans who go up to heaven also take on forms that reflect their earthly life. Soooo you would probably stay a deer.”

”How would your dad know? Can we talk to the people in heaven?” This casual conversation was helping hasten the subsiding panic.

“Uh no. Heaven and Hell are pretty much separated all the time, except for the extermination BUT we’re working on that…My dad is Lucifer. Like the archangel!”

Your face was in obvious shock. Jaw dropped lightly and your hands came to your sternum, and you gaped at Charlie with wide eyes. “Lucifer? Like…the Devil? Satan himself?” What the actual fuck, why was your luck so cursed?

Charlie rocked back and forth on her heels, slightly grimacing from your comments before answering. “Yes, my dad is the Devil - but Satan is his own person, lots of people get them confused, much to dad’s chagrin. Lucifer Morningstar is my dad, the Devil, the King of Hell, fallen angel, and Satan is just the Lord of Wrath. It’s all very simple once you’ve been here a while.” Charlie had come to your side and wrapped her arm around your shoulders to walk you out of the bathroom. ”You should really join us downstairs for a proper tour, breakfast was over a while ago but we might be able to find some lunch in case you’re hungry.”

Your stomach rumbled at the thought of food. Was Hell just like Earth, but scarier? And redder? Would you need to get a job? Pay taxes? Oh good god, was Hell was just the worst part of living on monotonous repeat? Brutal. And certainly great punishment.

“We can work on getting you some more personal clothing later, but you are Vaggie look to be around the same size so she’s dropped off a few pieces just to get you in gear for redemption! I should probably go tell the others that you’re fine. I can’t wait for you to join us!” Charlie was so sickly sweet it was crazy to think she was the daughter of the Devil. She was too cheerful for a normal person, never mind a demon. She waved to you and said bye before closing the door as she exited.

Picking up the first couple of pieces in the donated pile, you dressed yourself in a shorter dress with a billowing skirt oh my god you have a tail ignore it ignore it ignore it and thicker grey socks that went all the way up to the middle of your thighs, covering up your black skin meeting up with the length of the dress. The dress was a softer white colour, not as bright as a crisp, new piece, this was a well loved item. No complaints, it was broken in and you were grateful for the gift. The only questionable features were the X’s that were placed directly over the nipples of the top. That was…quite the fashion statement. No time to be picky, something would be better than the pyjamas you died in. No shoes were provided so you simply walked out of the room into the hallway without.

The hallway appeared neverending from both sides, the detailed wallpaper and carpet going for visual miles. Which way was the right way? Good thing you were unconscious when you were brought up here, makes it much easier to retrace your steps. You were grateful for your giant new ears because it seemed like you could follow the sound of chatter down a hall.

Frowning, you let instinct take over and you went to the right. You were passing a door on your left and you felt the hair on your body begin to rise, a staticky sensation passing over your skin. It was a similar feeling to when you would take a giant fleece blanket out of the dryer when it was still warm. You shuddered and made an audible noise of discomfort. Thankfully it appeared that you chose the right path however, since you found yourself at a set of stairs that appeared to curve to the lower floor. You could hear the chatter clearer- “She screamed at the mirror? She’s adorable! She coulda been a worm or a giant slug or-” You shook your head, attempting to ignore the conversation you were accidentally eavesdropping on. A click was heard behind you and you whipped around to face the creature that resulted in your uncomfortable welcome to the hotel in the first place.

Alastor.

Now that he wasn’t talking and simply staring at you, analysing your being, you could really take in his face. Large, red eyes with a frightening depth to them were framed by darker red skin on his lids, his nose somehow sharp but similar to your own, his was more nose-like however. His smile was the worst part though. You were unsure of what could possibly make him smile so wide. His teeth were very large, and clean despite their colour. Strange for a person framed after a prey animal to have such sharp teeth, and you instinctively ran your tongue over your own behind your lips to discover sharper canines only, nothing comparable to the man in front of you.

In the silence his eyes narrowed and focused on you, making his face far more intimidating. Again, an unintentional shiver ran down your back and you shuddered under his gaze. You were a startled deer, caught in his frightening gaze. You were so unsure and uncomfortable with the situation that you had completely missed that he said something to you. You closed your eyes and shook your head to get out of your thoughts.

”Pardon? I’m sorry, I missed what you said there.” You admitted with crossed fingers that he would accept the apology.

”Yes, clearly. I merely asked you if you slept well! You took quite a nasty fall to the floor! Generally people know my history before I can make them faint from fear so I will accept the compliment. It appears as if my sabbatical has had very little effect on my presence.” He bowed slightly in a polite manner, arm crossing over his stomach as he did so, the other arm holding a microphone that was promptly used as a cane once he came up from his polite gesture. You had done a small curtsy in return, awkwardly grabbing the side of the small skirt to fulfil the action. He appeared to nod in acknowledgment, hopefully appreciating the polite return.

Your arms dropped back to your side as you processed what the man had said. Things were only going to continue to confuse you. This was all a nightmare, honestly.

“Now, on to a more serious matter,” He snapped his fingers, and the both of you were in a different room. Two chairs to your left were angled around a small table, the little radio featured on top of it. God damn it that fucking thing again. Farther behind one of the chairs however, the room opened into a bayou swamp environment - dark, marshy and foggy, the eerie sounds coming from it promised danger of an unknown kind. What kind of place was this? You could feel your ears flick from the ambient sounds coming from the strange forest as Alastor continued his interrogation. Walking to the antique, he asked “What were you doing with my radio, my dear?” Gesturing with his free hand to the little machine.

You essentially vomited out the story behind it, where you found it, why you were there, the reason you took it home with you. He listened intently, glancing at it once you finished your very brief history with the item. It truly wasn't a scandalous thing that you pilfered from some ritzy location, you salvaged it from a hoarder's house after it was put there by a woman with an obsession with Antiques Roadshow.

“If it is yours, why did it come here with me? Charlie said that possessions don’t follow souls into hell, but this did?” You inquired, hoping perhaps he held the answer.

Alastor became pensive “Hmmm. It is quite peculiar that it came with you. What were you doing with it? Please do not miss a single detail my dear, I am curious about our situation.

You frowned. What else other than grabbing the cord as you fell back? You listed out your actions on your fingers, reciting out loud the steps you took before your death. When you landed on the finger you paired with ‘took the back panel off-‘ he shouted a sharp ha-Hah! Confused and with a frown you continued, ending with cutting your hand on it before putting everything back together and heading to bed. Well, then dying. The actual ending.

“Are you sure that was all you did? Do not leave a single detail out, or you might regret it.” A sound attune with a record scratch sound from nowhere as you stared at the demon. Took radio home, took radio apart, bled on the radio, cleaned blood off the radio - your eyes went wide. And you silently checked off a step you missed in your story. You had cleaned blood off the symbols in the radio, the ones that looked like they themselves had been written in blood. Alastors gaze sharpened at your realisation.

“On the panel, inside the radio…” You started, “There were these symbols inside of it, I didn’t really get a good look at them before cutting my hand open,” You absentmindedly looked at your palm only to see a bright white scar where the long cut once was. Already? A Scar in hell? Alastor had stalked towards you and grabbed your hand to look at it. The air around the two of you was suffocating. It was difficult to think straight with him in front of you. And you were suddenly hyper aware of yourself, and him. Holding your hand was almost too much to handle and you tried to pull it back only for him to grip harder, nails pressing into your hand painfully. He raised his other hand palm up and held it beside yours. A matching scar was present. He frowned, though his smile was still prominent.

Dropping your hand he returned to the radio and black shadow tendrils rose from the floor and grabbed it, taking pieces off and placing the back panel of it in his hands. In silence he looked at the mess before entering into a low laugh, one that increased with each breath before he was near hysteria. His figure increased in size, antlers growing in size from his head, limbs lengthening - he swung his head to face yours as his figure started to loom over yours.

“Well my dear, we seem to have a problem” he said in a strange, distorted voice, his figure still looming. “You have compromised some old runes within my radio…it could possibly explain how you ended up here, with us, looking as you do.” Halfway through his terrifying statement he had returned to his ‘normal’ form and fluffed out the lapel of his coat as he did so. Eyes returning to yours the room became darker, and green symbols similar to the ones in the radio appeared on the floor, some appearing to raise up and float around the two of you.

“You will not mention any part of this radio or what you know of it, including where it was found or how you came into possession with it. You will not let others know of how your scar came on your person, and you certainly will not mention any of the runes you saw.” He wasn’t making a request, he was clearly demanding it. It felt as if wind was billowing his hair and coat as his eyes took on a much brighter look. ”If you do, I promise you will regret having ever come here and I will devour your soul only after a long and painful torture, am I clear?” You nodded in acknowledgement, knowing that the only reason you had not thrown up yet was the complete lack of food in your system, though the bile was resting at the back of your throat from fear.

He raised his hand to yours in a handshake motion, beckoning you with the outreached hand to join yours with his. You grabbed his hand with your own, both scars meeting in the middle, and they began to glow before he said only one word - “Deal?”

Well really, was there any other option? You nodded before he tsk-tsked your action, “I need vocal consent my dear, it is required.” The last word turning dark with static.

“Deal.” You barked out, and as soon as you responded, the room reverted back to its original state immediately. Alastor took his hand back and wiped it on the opposite sleeve. ”Excellent. You may leave now, the stairs will direct you right into the lobby. Please tell Ms. Morningstar that my afternoon has changed and I am unable to join her.” The door swung open on its own accord and black tangible tendrils of shadow had all but shoved you across the room and out the door before slamming the door shut so hard you swore the wood splintered slightly.

You paused to catch your breath, staring at the door, which you now knew led to Alastors Room. On the other side you could tell he must have been pacing back and forth, his heels clacking on the hard floors as he did so. Soon after however, it sounded as if a wild animal was throwing furniture and ripping fabric, loud screaming as it did so. Not about to stick around, you sprinted to the stairs and nearly slipped from the lack of shoes trying to place distance between you and the Demon upstairs. You kept up the pace on the main floor until you ran past an open door and caught sight of Charlie sitting on a sofa. You entered the room, out of breath and slightly sweaty from the encounter upstairs. She waved excitedly before patting the open seat beside her for you to sit as she held up an apple in her other hand. You sat, accepted the apple and took a bite before looking at the Television and promptly choking as you watched a news anchor discuss something called an ‘Extermination’, didn’t Charlie mention that upstairs?

Thankfully, once things had settled down in your head, you found yourself swept up in trust exercises, oh goody. Thankfully this spiralled into chaos and you were glad everyone had simply accepted your presence without hesitation, there were far more exciting things happening. It was especially comforting that Alastor would be keeping his promise and leaving on an outing for the day.

****

I will add here, this will be a semi-slow burn. Alastor is aroace pre-reader, but with time things change. Time, magic, and forced proximity.

#alastor smut #Alastor Hazbin #Alastor x reader #Alastor slow burn #Alastor Hazbin Hotel #Alastor x OFC #Hazbin Hotel #alastorxreader #alastor x you

183 notes · View notes

kiiwiigii · 8 months

Text

Revenge

Alec x Fem!Reader

Summary: Having Alec in handcuffs is always fun.

Warnings:

NSFW 18+

Smut

Bondage

Word Count: 700+

Requested?: For Kinktober!

Playful and happy reader handcuffing alec. They’re happy because they managed to trick him into them and he can’t get them offfff 😌

A/N: I do enjoy the thought of Alec in handcuffs… perhaps a bit too much.

I wasn't sure how I managed to do it, and a part of me half suspected that he had let me, and the other part thought that perhaps it was the lingerie that had distracted him. But I finally had Alec right where I wanted him. Underneath me, handcuffed to the bed.

"Amore," His lips twitched, trying to hide a smirk. "Would you please explain why you have me handcuffed to the bed?"

"Because."

"That's not an answer, Y/N."

"I'm aware."

I grinned as I straddled him, giving a little extra wiggle as I felt him harden beneath me. He sucked in a breath, eyes darkening as he watched me begin to unbutton his shirt. I looked him in the eye as I let my mouth follow the path of my fingers, kissing and nibbling my way downwards as his skin was revealed until I got to his belt, teasingly dipping my tongue along the waistband before making my way back up and grinding against him.

He let out a strangled moan, hips bucking.

"Amore." His voice was husky and tinged with warning.

I simply giggled, arching my back as I pressed against him, letting my breasts push up enough to show some serious cleavage, although the lace already left little to the imagination. I watched as his eyes zeroed in on it, and I couldn't hide my smirk as his eyes nearly turned pitch black. I wove my hands in his hair, kissing him deeply, letting my ass come back down and grind against him once more.

Alec groaned again, rising up to meet me. If I was being honest, I wasn't sure how much longer I was going to last. I had begun with the intent of just teasing him a little but seeing Alec underneath me, relatively "helpless", his hands cuffed about his head, had me turned on. And I'm sure he could tell by the scent of my arousal. My panties were soaked.

I leaned back, lifting myself off him for a mere second to unzip his pants and release his cock. I didn't even bother removing my panties, I simply moved them to the side as I sank down onto him, letting him fill my pussy to the brim.

"Fuck." He hissed, closing his eyes and raising his hips to push deeper. "Fuck, you feel good."

"I know I do."

His eyes shot open in surprise, most likely unused to such a response. Usually, I was meek, but having him underneath me and under my control gave me a confidence boost. I slowly began moving my hips, grinding down as far as possible to push him as deep as I possibly could. He watched me as if hypnotized. And maybe he was. Alec was used to doing most of the work.

Now it was my turn.

"Does that feel good baby?" I grinned at him.

"You have no idea." He breathed.

"Oh? I think I just might. Your cock feels pretty good inside me."

I squeezed the walls of my pussy tight, causing him to buck his hips again, a growl ripping through his chest. Ooh, that growl. Shivers raced up and down my spine and my nipples hardened even more. Alec began to move of his own accord, his hip thrusting up to meet mine.

I let out a moan, my head falling back as I supported myself with my hands on his chest. Fuck. This really did feel good. I began to feel that delicious tightening in my lower belly, the pleasure continuing to rise.

"Fuck."

My orgasm swept through me, back arching and my mouth falling open in surprise. I let myself continue to grind against him, barely doing more than pushing him deeper. I began to collapse forward, body shaking, when I felt everything tilt and suddenly Alec was over me.

"We're not done yet, you naughty thing."

He began to thrust into me hard and fast and I cried out, still shaking as he strung out my orgasm and causing me to snowball into yet another one. And another. And another.

"Alec!" I gasped, back arching off the bed and tears in my eyes, doing my best to breathe.

He slowed down, rolling his hips ever so slightly.

"Revenge is sweet."

If this was revenge, then I'd gladly take it.

Every time.

{Kinktober} // {Masterlist}

Taglist: @alecvolturi @belladonna-xox @hyperuseless @jana-jaeynneee @itsmytimetoodream @lack-lust-3r @pawspurpaw @pooka167 @rosedpetal @targaryenmoony @twilightlover2007 @lucansmina @alecvolturiswifeforever

Wanna be notified when I post a new fic? Ask to join my taglist!

#alec volturi x reader #alec volturi smut #alec volturi #twilight #the twilight saga #reader insert #kinktober #kinktober 2023

172 notes · View notes

velvetcloxds · 1 year

Note

if you're too shy- send me a character and a scenario and I'll write a little baby blurb for it

Co-workers to lovers with Spencer Reid, please? Thank you! 😉

NOT SO SECRET ADMIRER | S.R.

word count: 0.7k

warnings: none <3

Spencer was sitting on his desk, reading over some paperwork as the rest of the team filtered into the office, talking among themselves as he waited patiently for you to come through those glass doors as well, uncharacteristically late, making him sweat a little as he stole a glance at the little box he left on your desk.

It was hardly the first time he'd left something there, in fact he'd been leaving little gifts for you since you'd been transferred to this department. It started out simple, a box of the chocolates he saw you eating on the jet, a refill of your favorite coffee, a little note inspired by the book you'd told him about while taking the elevator together, some flowers after a hard case- it was a habit by now, something he didn't need to put all that much thought into, he'd learn something new about you every day and his mind was ever willing to store that information into a little Y/n folder for when he needed it.

For a while, he'd considered that maybe you were still unaware who it was from, unaware that the secret admirer who seemed to know you so very well was the one sharing a desk with you, the one fighting to sit next to you on missions, the one insisting on walking on the outside of the sidewalk with you, but he also had a nagging feeling that you had solved the mystery from the very beginning. You had, of course, knowing no one spent nearly enough time with you to be so perfect at spoiling you, except for Spencer, it was merely a game of chicken, who'd mention it first, who'd call the other's bluff first, who'd admit their crush first.

"Pretty boy," Derek mused, of course the first one to pick up on Spencer's fidgeting, on his flighty behaviour. "Waiting for your crush to show up?" he teased and Spencer was close to objecting, already discarding the file in his hand to do so when you skipped into the office, smiling brightly as you handed everyone one of the lattes you picked up on your way in.

"Someone's in a good mood," Emily noted and you shrugged, lifting a finger to boop her nose as she looked between you and the travel cup in her hand.

"Drink up, Em, made it extra sweet just for you, " you said simply and she laughed lightly, giving in to the little side hug you offered her before walking up to Spencer, showing him the last cup in your carton tray, a special sticky note with instructions stuck to the side proving that you knew his very specific order by heart. "Morning, Spence," you breathed and the smile on your lips was infectious, spreading to his own lips almost instantly.

"Morning," his reply was a controlled stutter, barely keeping it together as your thigh accidentally brushed against his knee where it was resting twisted on the desk. He accepted the latte with a whispered thank you, your eager eyes and gentle swaying from the heel of your feet to your toes telling him you were waiting for him to taste, and he happily obliged, licking his lips after a quick sip.

"Did I get it right?" you demanded carefully and he was eager to nod, eager to let you know it was perfect. only making your smile larger as you giggled in satisfaction. "I made the poor lady redo it three times," you admitted and he breathed a soft laugh, honestly just entranced by the way you were looking at him, so happy, so pleased just because you got something right, something right for him. "I figured it should be perfect."

"Why is that?" he leaned forward, so did you, bodies moving at their own accord as he rested his cup on his knee, darting his gaze over you, analyzing you, you let him.

"It's a thank you," you began, nervous now, almost looking back to see if the others were looking at you but stopping yourself, forcing yourself to push through, be brave. "For all my gifts," you explained and he couldn't help himself when he scoffed, he didn't need a thank you, it wasn't why he did it, but that smile on your face, that absolutely addicting look that made you seem all but ethereal, that's why he did it.

"You don't need to thank me, Y/n, I'm just glad you like them," he insisted and you shrugged, not thinking, not processing because even though you were sure it was him, there was that one percent chance that it wasn't and how unfathomably embarrassing would it have been if you were wrong.

"I know, " you nodded and you were moving before you could stop yourself, leaning into his chest for a quick hug, almost melting right there and then when he circled an arm around your waist, hugging you back and you were mentally screaming because he really, truly, genuinely hugged you back. "Thank you," you breathed next to his ear and you were on fire as you pulled away, smiling shyly as your cheeks spread with heat, ignoring every single comment, every daring stare as you walked to your desk.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #monique's writing events #monique's event days #right where queue left me

643 notes · View notes

fandomxpreferences · 1 year

Text

The Invisible Woman Chapter Four: Now Your Pain Is Mine

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Seresin x female!reader

TW: ANGST, mentions of death

Summary: You disappear and Jake is distraught.

Word Count:3k

You and Jake texted non-stop over the next week, trying to work out plans for a second date. Work has been busy for both of you, and he hasn’t seen you since that night. Then all of a sudden, your texts stop coming and his stop delivering.

He hasn't heard from you in three weeks, and to say he's been miserable is an understatement. Phoenix and Bradley are on the verge of ripping their hair out as Jake sits across from them at the Hard Deck moping.

"I just don't understand. The date went so well and we were trying to set up another one. Why would she just ghost me all of a sudden?" He whines and Bradley's eye twitches. It has been a nonstop pity party for almost a month and he's at his wit's end.

"I don't know, man. It's not like you were married." He says, trying to remain sympathetic to his teammate's situation.

"I know, but still." He pouts and Phoenix looks over at Bradley.

"If she shows back up I swear to God I'm kicking her ass." She mutters and Bradley doesn't even laugh. At this point, he almost hopes she's serious.

Just as Jake is about to start bitching again, the bell on the door jingles, and Phoenix looks up to see who it is. Her eyes widen in shock and she scoffs.

"Speak of the devil."

It takes Jake a second to register her words, but once he does his head whips around so fast that his neck cracks. Sure enough, there you are looking like an angel. In an instant, the pit in his stomach is gone and Jake's heart soars.

He knows he should probably take a hint, and maybe even be mad. But as he stares at your face from across the room, he can't help but be happy. Your eyes scan the crowd and his breathing hitches when they meet his.

You start toward him and his body reacts on its own accord. His breathing speeds up just slightly and his heart hammers in his chest. You stop in front of him and smile faintly before giving the other two pilots a small wave.

Your throat constricts when you see the look on their faces. They're definitely not happy to see you. Jake is still processing that you're actually here when he hears Phoneix's venom-laced voice.

"Where the hell have you been?" She spits and you swallow thickly. Jake whips to the side to glare at her and he feels a protective instinct wash over him.

"Don't speak to her like that." He bites and you place a gentle arm on his hand.

"It's okay, Jake. They have every right to be pissed." You reason and Bradley crosses his arms with a scoff.

"Yeah, no shit. This dude has been an insufferable sad sack of shit for the past three weeks. Do you know how close I was to sticking ice picks in my ears just so I wouldn't have to listen to him anymore?" He frowns and hurt shoots through you at the thought that Jake has been so upset.

"Can I join you? Maybe explain over some beers? I'll buy." You offer.

Jake scoots over immediately but you don't move to sit down, gaze darting between Phoenix and Bradley. She eyes you warily before nodding, and you take a seat.

They all look at you expectantly and you sigh, unsure where to begin. Four beers are set on the table and you chug yours, dreading this conversation. They all look at you with raised eyebrows and you set the bottle back down.

"First of all, I know how this looks. I just disappear for weeks without any explanation and then show back up unannounced." You start and Bradley purses his lips, clearly agreeing that it's suspicious.

You glance over at Jake and your heart clenches when you see that he doesn't have any hint of animosity toward you. He deserves better than this, yet here he is still completely taken by you.

"The weekend after our date, I was told that I was being sent on a mission. They told me at work on Friday and I was on a plane by five am on Saturday." You explain, and you can tell that Phoenix doesn't entirely buy it.

"It takes more than a day to get ready for a deployment. There are briefings and training involved." She argues and you nod your head.

"Usually, yes. But the SEALs operate differently. Ideally, we know ahead of time. Sometimes though, it's the last second and we don't have time to prepare. They brief us on the way there and by the time we land, we're geared up and ready to go." You elaborate and she squints.

"You couldn't have called?" She presses and you shake your head. Jake looks irritated at his friend's interrogation, but you don't mind. She's being protective, and she has every right to be.

"I can't divulge any information. Like I told Jake that first night, nothing we do is officially on record. Even if I knew ahead of time, I can't tell anybody when I'm leaving, where I'm going, or when I'll be back. That is if I even know. The best I can do is a general timeline, and even that's pushing it."

You turn to Jake and give him a sad smile. "I'm sorry. I should have warned you that it was a possibility, but I wasn't expecting a deployment anytime soon. Usually, they give us time to settle into our new assignments."

He searches your eyes for any sign that you're lying, but finds nothing but raw honesty and despair.

"Listen, it sucks, sure. However, like we said on the date, the job comes first. For both of us. I can't really be upset when there's a possibility I could have to do the same thing." He assures you and a warm smile covers your features.

You look back over and Bradley stares at you for a few seconds before his lips quirk up.

"Come on." He says while standing up. "The rest of the squad missed you."

You follow him gratefully, hand in hand with Jake, and greet Bob and Coyote. The night is like every other, the pilots are all laughing and drinking while they make bets on games.

You sit in the corner observing, a distracted look in your eyes. Jake frowns as he watches you, concern washing over him. You haven't said a word since your initial conversation and it strikes him as odd. Usually, you're the life of the party, and something seems off.

He takes a second to really take you in, and that's when he notices it. He frowns deeply when he realizes you look tired. He understands better than anybody being worn out after a deployment, even a short one.

Between working long hours and jet lag, it takes a toll. But you don't just look tired, you look troubled. There are bags under your eyes that you clearly tried to conceal and your mouth is set in a hard line. He notices you wringing your hands together repeatedly and your knee bounces wildly.

Something is wrong.

He forfeits his game, ignoring the protests, and walks over to you. You look startled to see him and immediately plaster on a fake smile. That's strike three. You're always hyperaware of your surroundings, so much so that you clocked him with your back turned twice.

He nods his head toward the door and tries not to look too worried.

"You wanna step out for some fresh air?" He asks and you hesitate before agreeing. You follow him silently as he leads the way, and relax a little when the sea breeze hits your face.

He takes a seat on the deck and pats the spot next to him. You sit down wordlessly and watch the waves kiss the shore. You can feel him staring at the side of your face, but don't acknowledge it hoping maybe he really just needed a break from the noise.

Just as you think you got lucky, he speaks up.

"What's going on?" He asks gently and you look at him out of the corner of your eye.

"What do you mean? Everything's fine." You try, but even you don't believe the lie as your voice cracks.

"Don't bullshit me. You haven't said a word, you've damn near chewed off your entire bottom lip, and you let me get the drop on you. Talk to me." He insists and you look up at the sky.

"This mission…" You begin, trying to keep the tears at bay. "It was a reality check."

Jake tries not to get frustrated at your vague answer and takes a deep breath.

"What does that mean?"

You shake your head slowly as a tear slips down your face and Jake realizes just how serious this must be. He immediately hates seeing you cry, and his heart sinks when he thinks about everything that could have you so upset.

It's easy to talk about your job and how cool it is in a bar. But at the end of the day, what you do is extremely dangerous and you could easily be killed. The sudden realization weighs heavy on him, dread nearly suffocating him.

"I can't give you details but," you begin and the tears start flowing hot and heavy. "It was the closest call I've ever had."

Jake closes his eyes when the words hit him, his fear being confirmed. You look over at him finally and his heart shatters at the pain on your face.

The badass woman he's so infatuated with is nowhere to be found. His stomach twists when he recognizes the look in your eyes as fear, and he reaches up to wipe your cheeks.

Suddenly he understands why all those women he's dated decided they couldn't do it. If they felt even a fraction of what he's experiencing right now, he should send them all flowers.

He's never been on the other side of things, the one being put in the position of watching someone they care about walk away at a moment's notice.

His mind is racing a million miles an hour with thoughts of what being with you really means. It's being in the dark, and not knowing when you're leaving or if you're coming back. It's dreading a phone call and risking having his world ripped to shreds.

It's this, right now, watching you fall apart and trying to put the pieces back together. Still, despite all of that, he wants you more than anything. He can see the storm brewing behind your eyes and wishes he could make it stop.

But like he said, he understands more than a civilian ever could. He's had close calls, and he knows how much they rattle you and strike fear into your heart. You watch him intently, trying to decipher what he's thinking.

"I understand if you can't do this. It's a lot to ask of somebody, even if you've been through it yourself. If you want to quit while you're ahead, no harm no foul." You sniffle and he looks at you with such adoration that a fresh round of tears starts.

"I know the risks, and I'm willing to take them. If you'll let me. I know that there have probably been people in the past who have made you feel like you're not worth the trouble, but I would walk over glass barefoot for you. If you want me to stay, then I'm right here." He whispers and your lip trembles.

You nod your head and he pulls you into his side, smoothing down your hair while kissing your temple.

"Is there anything else you can tell me? Speaking from personal experience, talking about it helps."

You swallow several times, trying to clear the lump in your throat so you can speak.

"It's just, for the first time in my career I got scared. When you're so good at your job, it's easy to start thinking you're indestructible. That nothing can go wrong, because nothing ever has before." You explain and Jake nods. He understands that. He understands that completely.

He remains silent, letting you take your time and decide when to continue.

"I missed." You whisper and he tenses slightly. "I missed and it almost cost us the entire mission. It almost got me and my team killed. That's never happened before."

Jake takes a moment to consider his response, knowing just how delicate this situation is.

"You're the very best in the world at what you do." He begins and you hiccup. "But you're still human, Y/N. Mistakes happen."

You pull away and shake your head. He can tell you're angry. Not at him, but at yourself and it breaks his heart.

"No. Mistakes don't happen. Not in this line of work, not because of me." You snap and Jake just takes it. He knows this isn't about him.

There's so much pressure riding on your back, and despite your calm, cool, collected demeanor, he knows you have a breaking point.

He's been where you are, and he knows the best way to stop the spiraling is to distract you.

"Did I tell you how I got the callsign Hangman?" He asks. He knows he didn't, but that doesn't matter.

Your features soften slightly and you shake your head.

"When I was doing a training mission early in my career, I left my wingman because I thought I knew better. He ended up getting caught in my jet wash and almost died." He explains and you stare at him with wide eyes.

"People started saying not to trust me because I'll lead you to the gallows, and they started calling me executioner. It was too long and harsh, so the Navy denied it. Then one day someone called me Hangman, and it stuck." He confides and you blink at him slowly.

"My entire reputation and name are based around one fuck up I made when I was 24 years old. It didn't matter how much I tried to redeem myself, the damage was done. Eventually, I leaned into it. Figured if people are going to say something, it might as well be true." He shrugs and you lean your head on him again.

The crying has stopped and even though he just told you his darkest secret, all he cares about is the fact he was able to calm you down.

"That's terrible." You mutter and he kisses the top of your head.

"Nobody really knows how it originally started now, so it's not that bad. Now instead of a murderous asshole, I'm just known as a selfish asshole." He says and his entire body ignites when you let out a genuine laugh.

"My point is making a mistake, no matter how bad, doesn't make you bad at what you do. We have jobs where perfection is expected and that makes it easy to believe that you're a failure when you drop the ball. But you're not, I promise." He states and you lean further into him.

"Thank you." You tell him, and your voice is so quiet he barely hears you.

"Anytime. I've got plenty of stories to make you feel better about yourself at my expense." He teases, hands reaching down to pinch your sides playfully.

You squeal and jolt back with a loud laugh, trying to avoid him as he attempts to tickle you.

"There she is." He smiles and your stomach erupts in butterflies. The tears have washed away your makeup and Jake gets a good look at just how exhausted you are.

"How long have you been back?" He asks, and you avert your gaze.

"A week." You answer sheepishly and he turns your head to look at him.

"When's the last time you slept?" He pries and he can see you're about to lie. "The truth."

You visibly deflate and run a hand through your hair. "I've been getting an hour or two here and there. But a full night? Not since before the mission."

His eyes go wide at the revelation. "That was three weeks ago." He frowns and you nod solemnly.

"Nightmares?" He questions, already certain he knows the answer.

"It just keeps playing in my head every time I close my eyes. What I could've done differently, how it could have ended. It feels like I'm right back there and the terror I felt is so vivid."

He studies you as you talk and decides to take a chance. "I don't want to overstep, so feel free to tell me to fuck off." He starts and your eyebrows shoot up. "What if I came and stayed the night? Do you think that would help?"

You consider the idea for a few moments before shrugging. "It might. You'd do that? What if my nightmares wake you up?" You implore and he gives you a comforting smile.

"Then I'll stay up and try to help until you fall back asleep." He responds casually and you think you might just be in love with him.

"I can see you already feeling guilty, Oz. Don't, it's not a problem." He assures you and finally you relent.

"Okay, it's worth a shot." The smile that lights up his face is contagious and he shoots his feet.

"Come on then, you look like you got in a fight with Mayweather." He jokes, hand sticking out to help you up.

"That's so sweet of you." You say sarcastically, rolling your eyes. Jake lets out a loud laugh and laces his fingers through yours.

"Let's go, Princess of Darkness."

@drakelover78 @manyfandomsfanvergent @ssprayberrythings @disturbedbeautywrites @desert-fern @one-sweet-gubler @callmemana @luckyladycreator2 @bookchik26 @taytaylala12 @michalkasimp @xoxabs88xox @loveless-simp @withakindheartx @formulapierre @ccristata @shanimallina87 @k-k0129 @izz-ayes-world @kajjaka @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @phantomxoxo @rosiahills22 @gspenc @chair-things @benhardysdrumstick @cookielovesbook-akie @dempy @wellshit6 @zbeez-outlet @sopheeg @callsign-milano @gizmodear

#jake seresin #top gun maverick #top gun imagine #hangman top gun #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin top gun #jake seresin angst #hangman angst #jake seresin series #jake seresin x reader

301 notes · View notes

raayllum · 1 year

Text

Now, TDP doesn’t do this often, but occasionally they will overload character dynamic(s) with like, enough overt symbolism / association in order to centralize a third character’s arc. Think Janai with Amaya and Karim in S4. Karim represents Janai’s uncertainty, pointing out some of the inner thoughts she’d rather ignore and her people’s rising ‘concerns’ shown through dialogue. We also see this more discreetly with scenes like Janai taking off her crown as soon as Karim is in frame, and she spells this out for us in 4x09: “But I am uncertain, I am afraid. That’s why I thought maybe you and I... we could leave. Go live peacefully in Katolis. At least Karim would lead the people with some kind of certainty.”

Karim represents one path she can choose, the arguably easier, safer path she could choose. And Amaya doesn’t quite represent the other one as clear cut (S4 requires some of her own steadfastness to fade in order for her to grow, too) she is the main proponent as she signs, “Forget Karim. This is not about him. What life do you want?” and expresses that Janai doesn’t have to choose between a life with her and a life as queen: “Just have two cakes.”

With that in mind, let’s talk about

Aaravos and Rayla as Callum’s Two Paths in S4 Beyond (+ Bonus Claudia in S2)

Season 4 takes literally every chance it has to emphasize Aaravos and Rayla’s thematic opposition of each other in Callum’s life, as well as the according parallels that come with it (down to having two separate scenes in which people think he’s going to talk or is talking about Rayla, and he’s actually discussing Aaravos). Callum is “the best thing [she] ever had.” He’s Aaravos’ “favourite,” a human mage tainted by darkness like all the others he’s dried up over the years. Rayla herself is the one to primarily identify this usage. Her own description of Callum in the past has also mirrored this one (minus the magic).

Z: Aaravos could offer them access to the great mysteries of the universe. [...] Yes, mages were his prey.

She is also the one whose arrival turns Callum away from the mirror - away from the darkness - and toward the light. I don’t think I have to explain the symbolism too much on that one, especially not with Rayla’s letter also in mind: “Making hard choices and going to dark places is an act of love. It’s a gift. So please, let me give you this gift, Callum. Stay safe, and stay in the light” as well as Callum’s reflections from the S2 novelization in 2x08: “What sort of primal could glow in this dark place?”

However, if Rayla is the Light to Aaravos’ darkness (ignoring the cube on her shoulder for a second), what does that tangibly mean? Well luckily, 4x07 also spells this out for us pretty directly in tandem with 4x04. Rayla is the first to react to Callum’s possession, gasping; she’s the one who reaches out to Callum when he goes on his knees, backing down when his eyes are black in shock; she’s also the one who catches him once the possession fades. “Already tainted by darkness,” Aaravos claims, gloating over his control both literally in the present and in the future, “and destined to play right into my hands.” Aaravos is confident he’s going to win the game he’s playing.

Callum reiterates this in 4x05 to Ezran and in 4x07 to Rayla.

C: You know, when he took control of me and used my whole body like a puppet? [...] When Aaravos possessed me at the Storm Spire, I felt so weak and out of control. I was his puppet. I’m not afraid that he’ll hurt me.

(Perpetually screaming about the way it cuts back to Rayla solely when there’s the “Or hurt people I care about” line, but moving on.)

So Aaravos represents Control and a pre-chosen Destiny. These things are terrifying to Callum, who has always prioritized and chased after strengthening his capacity to choose - and to choose how he contributes. Luckily, Rayla likewise spells this out and reminds Callum of it as well. If Rayla is his light, she represents his Agency.

Not without her faltering (leaving in TTM and leaving him behind in other occasions) but agency and choice is largely what she’s always encouraged for Callum, down to agreeing to get his cube in 1x04 and being the first one to see his potential as a mage in the first place, which Callum acknowledges.

This is why it’s so important that she rejects his request first hand in 4x07. Callum is so scared he’s trying to remove agency from his own hands by putting it (and his life and death) into hers, but that’s just going to exacerbate the problem. Rayla keeps on reminding him that his agency is in his own hands and how strongly he used to believe that: “Callum, you’re the ‘destiny is a book you write yourself’ guy.” And Callum to his credit tries to follow through on her advice by dropping the Key of Aaravos into the lava; he’s just currently unable to go through with it / to let go of it.

And I also think it’s entirely intentional that Rayla is the one he’s asking to do this for. Not only in the layers it gives their interpersonal dynamic and understanding of each other, but specifically in the way it’s deliberate for future plot lines, set up, and payoff: if the crew wanted to, they could’ve had Ezran go with Rayla in 4x05, leaving Callum and Soren alone. Callum could’ve asked Soren, a crownguard sworn to protect Ezran and who has done so even when it means killing his family, to kill him instead, but Callum didn’t. The crew didn’t. They chose to orchestrate it like this.

And, not to mention, they’ve done similar things with Rayla and Callum like this before, all the way back in S2.

Claudia and Dark Magic

Now, S2 and S4 are very similar in the emotional arcs they give the bulk of the cast, especially Claudia and Callum in particular. Hardly anyone’s emotional arcs (outside of Callum’s sky arcanum) are resolved in S2, merely they are built upon and then driven further to provide a broadening and resolution (for now) in S3. I expect S5 to follow a similar pattern of resolving quite a few things, even if it will leave others disastrously open ended (especially if Aaravos gets out by the end of S5).

But I’m getting off topic. Claudia in S2 very much represents one path Callum could take: he could choose to go home and sacrifice the mission, which he cites as being “the hardest thing we’ve ever done” as well as “the most important thing we’ll ever do”. He’s just learnt that primal magic without a primal stone is a nigh impossible path for him, and so Claudia offers her friend an alternative, encouraging his path as a mage in the worst way.

Callum returns to the dark magic book, literally and metaphorically, in 2x07. Seeing an old sketch of Claudia with her tome is what sparks the idea that dark magic is how he can help save Rayla in 2x07 (“I want to go down there with you and be the heroes who stop all the fighting, but I can’t do that! I can’t do anything”) in the wake of feeling helpless/useless. Then he uses her book outright to complete the spell. What he wasn’t willing to do for himself or his own ends, he’s willing to do to protect a loved one.

While, just like in 4x02, Rayla literally turns Callum away from his former path / friend / love interest. This is her mirroring Callum’s own choice of choosing her over Claudia - both in who to ultimately trust when it came down to the wire, but even as a future romantic partner. Not only in the scene on Phoe-Phoe in 2x03

but also literally within the pages of his sketchbook and future spellbook that, as stated, lead to the decision of him doing dark magic in the first place. Rayla, despite being a representation by and large of Callum’s path as a primal mage, is the hinge that causes him to chase it down on her behalf anyway and in spite of the fact he knows she would hate it.

By the end of S2, specifically 2x08 The Book of Destiny, it seems pretty clear that Callum’s has firmly shut down a more active pursuit of dark magic, with his infamous, “No, I get to choose who I want to be! Destiny is a book you write yourself!” and his subsequent connection to the Sky arcanum. Although 2x08 does give hints that Callum’s journey with dark magic and pre-written destinies is perhaps not entirely laid to rest, as it features these shots, I might add:

Paths Converging

Okay, so Callum was given choices represented by Claudia and Rayla in S2, refusing the temptation and possibility of being a dark mage, and thereby subsequently choosing Rayla. Now he’s being given two paths - one in light and one in shadow - in S4.

But without the same merits of temptation (at least for now) which is probably why Aaravos outright possessed him to begin with; Callum may need a different manipulation playbook than Aaravos’ other pawns. Okay, great? What does this all mean, though? Or least, what could it possibly mean?

Remember how I said Aaravos and Rayla are put in thematic opposition to one another for Callum in S4? Yeah - here’s where the symbolism gets a bit muddled, because Rayla shows up with the cube of Aaravos on her shoulder, glowing and pointing downward. In the first 3 seasons, the Key was more often shown with the Star primal at various angles, not necessarily right side up (the primal symbol itself) or upside down (Aaravos’ symbol). But that changes at certain key moments, specifically once the Key is aligned with Aaravos, and how all the runes are shown to be upside down in the dark magic dream.

If Rayla showing up is truly meant to just be agency, then why have the cube - the same cube featured in Callum’s 4x04 intro, directly linking it to Aaravos’ control of Callum in some capacity - on her shoulder at all? And even if you’re like “well, they wanted to make sure you’d notice Stella making it glow,” the cuddlemonkey could’ve picked it up and not gone directly to Rayla’s shoulder, disassembling the shot. Or they could’ve, y’know, had Rayla with the cube on her shoulder right side - agency side - up. But they didn’t.

This goes back to the Light and Dark dichotomy with both being represented by Aaravos. Dark isn’t always clear cut bad (just look at Claudia’s hair) and light isn’t always clear cut good (the cube flashing a bright light as Callum’s transformation into a literal pawn is completed). A chessboard has both black and white squares. Rayla’s explicit return, as said by Soren, is “kind of good and kind of bad.” Which brings us back to this exchange from the S1 novelization, as always, in which Callum and Rayla discuss moonberries and deathberries:

“So they look identical,” Callum said. “But they might kill you or they might save you.” “Exactly.” Rayla smiled. “Just like me.”

Again, most of this points to Rayla saving Callum, and given that a large part of her clearly doubts her capacity to save anyone, anymore (“We can’t save everyone, Soren”) in ways that weren’t present in her youth, Rayla saving Callum from Aaravos’ brainwashing - Callum choosing her as his path, literally, over Aaravos, after all this foreshadowing, makes the most straight forward sense. Callum gets to choose and pick his own destiny (her) and Rayla gets to be restored as someone heroic who can save the people she loves (him, and possibly later on her parents).

Which would be a perfectly happy ending - if we weren’t still on season five of seven. And if season four didn’t have a massive theme of resolving dichotomies, and reconciling dualities.

Aaravos’ control extending past the ‘resolution’ of the brainwashing plotline would also make sense. There’s more dramatics / more at stake emotionally if Callum is in his right mind and plays into Aaravos’ clutches anyway. Even the awareness of his possible fate from the start, even escaping the brainwashing, wouldn’t be enough to escape his Destiny. It also emphasizes Rayla’s loss. She did everything she could to possibly protect him, including leaving and hurting for two years, and then she shows up right in time to watch herself be helpless to protect him all over again. How’s that for tragic?

Which is to say: I don’t think, ultimately for the next arc of the story, that choosing Rayla or Aaravos is mutually exclusive. I think whether it’ll be what leads Callum to Aaravos’ possession, or what follows after it, Rayla will be what causes Callum to fall (at least temporarily) into his clutches or carrying out his plans. Kill you or save you. Light and dark. Callum refused dark magic until he felt like he was backed into a corner in S2, and going to lose her. Callum is also likely going to almost kill her and his friends. If Rayla is surviving that, and saving him, why wouldn’t he also be saving her?

Two cakes, where you save and free the person you love more than anyone alongside the person you hate and fear the most, and what’s worse, is that you both simultaneously gave him the tools he needed to do exactly this all along.

57 notes · View notes

c-e-d-dreamer · 1 year

Text

And They Were Roommates, OMG, They Were Roommates: Part Ten

A/N: Welcome back to rom-com shenanigans! I hope you’re ready for more idiots in love ;) This particular flavor features the joys of Karaoke. In case it’s not clear: Mor sings Before He Cheats by Carrie Underwood; Feyre sings Hopelessly Devoted; Rhys sings Pony by Ginuwine; Nesta sings No Body, No Crime by Taylor Swift; and Cassian sings You Belong with Me by Taylor Swift. Enjoy! :)

Chapter Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part

Eris and I broke up.

The words echo in Cassian’s mind, his ears left ringing once they’re spoken into existence. It takes every ounce of willpower within him to keep his face neutral, to hold his reaction within, even as his heart starts to pound between his ribs, even as something that feels suspiciously like hope starts to bloom and threaten to put down roots. He swallows hard, making his way into the living room and sitting down beside Nesta like nothing’s amiss. Like this is just a normal, casual conversation between roommates, and his entire world didn’t just tilt on its axis for a moment.

“What happened?” Cassian dares to ask, plucking the spoon from between Nesta’s fingers and stealing a bite of her ice cream.

Nesta scoffs, snatching the spoon back from him. “Eris is an idiot.”

“You broke up with him because he was being an idiot? That’s harsh, Nes. Even for you.”

Nesta’s grip tightens around the spoon, and she tosses it harshly into the ice cream carton. “Technically, he broke up with me.”

The words give Cassian pause, his head whipping in her direction. “You’re right. He’s definitely an idiot then.”

Nesta lets out a soft sigh, dropping her head to rest against Cassian’s shoulder. Cassian's entire body freezes at the contact. If he thought his heart was pounding before, it’s reached an unnatural rate now. Fire licks down his skin, igniting and flaring out right from that spot. Her hair tickles along his jaw, and Cassian’s head seems to shift of its own accord, his cheek pressing against the crown of her head. He can smell the sweet, flowery scent of her shampoo, and he lets his eyes fall shut, taking it all in.

“He thought that we were too close,” Nesta finally explains. “Can you believe that? Apparently, it made him uncomfortable.”

“Sounds like he was just insecure,” Cassian comments, earning a snort from Nesta in response. “It’s his loss, though. Missing out on you is something I’m sure he’ll regret.”

Silence settles around them, but Cassian doesn’t move. He can still feel the day spent at the beach all over his skin, sand and salt still clinging to his hair, but he can’t bring himself to get up and go shower, can’t bring himself to lose the feeling of Nesta pressed along his side, the feel of her head nestled against his shoulder. He doesn’t even want to speak and potentially shatter this moment all over the floor, wants to hold it close and cherish it for as long as she’ll allow it. Instead, he focuses on every soft inhale and exhale from Nesta, finds himself counting his own breaths to match hers.

“Cassian?” Nesta’s voice breaks the quiet.

Cassian hums quietly in response, letting her know he heard.

“I think you might be my best friend.”

The quiet admission steals the breath straight from Cassian’s lungs. His heart blooms and squeezes at the same time, leaving an ache settled between his ribs that Cassian doesn’t even want to begin to decipher. Slowly, he brings his arm up, curling it around Nesta’s shoulders. He dares to lift his head, turning it enough that he can drop a feather light kiss to her hair.

“You’re mine too, Nes.”

~ * * * ~

Cassian can’t keep the grin off his face as he clambers into his truck and makes his way back home. Pure happiness tugs at his cheeks and makes his chest feel light, and he practically has a skip in his step as he rides the elevator up to floor four. He steps inside to find Nesta standing in the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water. Her eyes sweep over him before she raises an eyebrow.

“You look like you’re in a good mood,” Nesta comments, setting her glass down on the kitchen island.

“I got good news,” Cassian explains, kicking off his shoes and stepping over into the kitchen. “You’re looking at the newly promoted Cassian Valdarez.”

“You got a promotion at work?”

“No need to sound so surprised, Nes.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Nesta dismisses with a roll of her eyes, but Cassian can see the sincerity swimming amongst the smokey blues, the genuineness of the smile she offers him. “That’s great. You deserve it.”

“Thanks.”

“Should we celebrate?”

Cassian chuckles, leaning against the kitchen island and settling Nesta with a smirk. “Are you offering, sweetheart?”

“It’s short notice, but knowing our family, I doubt they’ll turn down the opportunity to go out.”

“I’ll go change,” Cassian says with a grin, already backing up toward his bedroom. “Should I wear the blue suit? Nothing says celebration like that outfit.”

The unimpressed look that takes over Nesta’s face is absolutely worth the comment. He’s sure the pinched lips and narrowed eyes are meant to kill, but Cassian just laughs, offering Nesta a wink before disappearing into his room. He can hear her talking on the phone as he pulls off his work clothes and tugs on a pair of jeans and a tee, deciding to grab his leather jacket still even with the warm weather outside. He steps out of the bedroom to join Nesta, and then the two of them are off, heading out of the building and walking down the road toward downtown.

Nesta leads the way, and it’s not long before she’s pulling them to a stop in front of the bar. Cassian blinks up at the pink, neon sign stretched over the doors and declaring the bar’s name, the K flickering slightly. Cassian has to press his lips together to keep his smirk at bay, turning his attention to Nesta and quirking an eyebrow at her.

“Really, Nes?”

“Shut up,” Nesta snaps before Cassian can say anything more, already stepping forward to push open the door. “You try finding somewhere with open tables on a Friday night at such short notice.”

Cassian chuckles, but he doesn’t say anything more, following Nesta inside. The loud, thrumming beats of a pop song greets them, along with a high pitched crooning voice singing along slightly out of key. Nesta steps over to the bar’s hostess, speaking with the woman over the music.

“I hear congratulations are in order.”

Cassian turns to find Rhys, Feyre, and Mor stepping inside the bar just behind him, Feyre with her arm looped through Rhys’ and all three of them with wide grins on their faces.

“You all got here quite quickly,” Cassian teases, earning an eye roll from Mor. “Nothing better to do on a Friday night?”

“We want to celebrate you and your promotion,” Rhys explains, clapping Cassian on the shoulder and offering a grin that doesn’t have Cassian fooled for a second.

When Cassian continues to look at them unimpressed, Mor finally flicks her blonde hair over her shoulder and explains, “fine. Nesta promised us all she’d buy the first two rounds of drinks.”

“Really?” Cassian asks, glancing over his shoulder to the woman in question.

As though she can feel his attention on her, Nesta turns her head as well, meeting Cassian’s gaze. The lights in the bar are dimmed, and it has the blues of her eyes looking almost silver, Cassian’s heart stuttering at the sight and leaving him unable to look away. She offers him a small smile, one he knows is only for him, and every other person, every other sound in the bar disappears until it’s just him and Nesta and the breaths between them, the air twisting and skipping in Cassian’s lungs.

“Let’s get drinks!” Mor’s excited cheer breaks through the moment, pulling Cassian back to the present.

She loops her arm through Cassian’s, all but tugging him toward the bar. True to her word, Nesta buys everyone the first round of drinks, and then they head to the table Nesta was able to reserve for them. It’s not long before Azriel is arriving, Elain and Lucien not long behind him. It’s even less time before Mor cashes in on Nesta’s promise for the second round too, declaring they all do shots.

Cassian feels contentedly warm and fuzzy, and it’s only half because of the alcohol he’s consumed. Sitting at this table, surrounded by his friends and family and still glowing in the pride of having gotten a promotion, fills him with a light happiness that’s indescribable. It especially helps that Nesta decided to take the seat beside him. She doesn’t comment on the fact he has his arm thrown casually along the back of her chair as he leans back in his own, and it gives him the perfect vantage point to soak up her laughter as she looks at whatever Elain is showing her on her phone.

“Time for another round, anyone?” Mor asks the table, pointing her finger and giving everyone an expectant look in turn.

“I only promised the first two,” Nesta points out, reaching forward and taking a sip from her wine. “You’re on your own now.”

“Don’t worry,” Mor dismisses with a wave of her hand. “The next round is on Rhysie.”

“What?” Rhys balks, turning in his chair to face Mor properly. “If anyone should be buying the next round, it’s Cassian. He did just get a promotion after all.”

“Exactly,” Cassian agrees, holding his glass up in a mock toast. “I did just get a promotion, so I shouldn’t have to pay for a single drink all night.”

A symphony of groans echoes around the table, but then Azriel is standing up with a quiet promise that he’ll get the next round. The conversation dissolves once again when Azriel steps away, but when he returns with his hands full of glasses, it draws the attention back to him.

“You know, Az. I’m surprised you didn’t bring your mysterious redhead with you tonight,” Mor comments, taking her drink from the man in question and pointedly ignoring the annoyed look on his face.

“Speaking of redheads,” Elain cuts in, seemingly to Azriel’s rescue. “I’m sorry about you and Eris, Nesta.”

“You and Eris broke up?” Feyre asks from the other end of the table.

“It just didn’t work out,” Nesta offers with a casual shrug of her shoulders, but Cassian doesn’t miss the way her fingers tighten just slightly around the stem of her wine glass.

“He wasn’t good enough for Nes anyways,” Cassian jumps in to try and diffuse any building tension. Although the comment earns him a too knowing look from Azriel.

“I’ll drink to that,” Lucien agrees, leaning over Elain and Nesta to clink his glass against Cassian’s.

“That’s your brother,” Elain protests, slapping Lucien playfully in the arm.

“Exactly. I know.”

There are a few chuckles from around the table, but thankfully, any awkwardness is spared when one of the bar workers steps over to their table, asking if anyone wants to put their name down to sing next. Mor is all too happy to oblige. She chugs the last of her drink and practically skips up to the stage set up along the back wall of the bar. She scrolls through the song selection, but it doesn’t take her long to choose one, and soon the familiar sounds of a guitar twang are starting up while their table cheers her on.

“Right now, he’s probably slow dancing with a bleach blonde tramp, and she’s probably getting frisky…” Mor croons into the microphone.

By the time she gets to the chorus of the song, Mor has pulled the microphone from the stand, her hair flying all over the place as she sings her lungs out.

“This feels… personal,” Nesta comments quietly, leaning in so only Cassian hears.

Cassian chuckles into his drink, but he doesn’t disagree. When the song ends, everyone at the table applauds and cheers, Mor giving a flourish of a bow in response. She hops down from the stage, but makes a pit stop at the bar before returning with another round of shots for everyone.

After she downs her shot, Feyre is the next of their group to take to the stage. She seems to already have her song picked out, and soon the gentle, lilting intro to Hopelessly Devoted starts to play. Similar to Mor, she pulls the microphone free from the stand, but Feyre walks down from the stage with it, sauntering over toward their table with her hand outstretched. Rhys takes her hand with ease, bringing it up to his mouth and pressing a kiss to her knuckles, holding eye contact the entire time.

“I think I’m going to vomit,” Nesta mutters, and Cassian can practically hear the eye roll in her tone.

“Get a room,” Lucien shouts across the table.

The song ends, and Feyre holds the microphone out toward Rhys. The rounds of drinks must truly have hit him because much to Cassian’s surprise, he takes the microphone and makes his way up to the stage to select a song. From the way the corner of Rhys’ mouth twitches up into a smirk, Cassian fears he already knows what’s coming, and when the opening chords of the song start to play, he barely swallows down a groan.

“I’m just a bachelor. I’m looking for a partner,” Rhys sings, mimicking Feyre and stepping down from the stage.

He keeps his steps slow and steady, reaching the table just in time for the chorus. He pulls Feyre’s chair out with his free hand, giving himself enough space to straddle her lap and continue to sing. Feyre laughs as Rhys starts to move his hips, but the rest of the table groans, more calls about getting a room echoing around them.

“Now it’s my turn to vomit,” Cassian leans over to tell Nesta conspiratorially, earning an amused snort from her.

Blissfully, the song comes to an end and Rhys stands back up, holding out the microphone toward the table. “Who’s next?”

“Oh, Nes is going to sing next,” Cassian offers, knocking his shoulder against Nesta’s.

“I absolutely will not,” Nesta shoots back with a glare.

“Come on. This night is meant to be all about me, so you have to.”

“That is not how that works.”

“Do you want me to beg, sweetheart?” Cassian asks, leaning in closer to Nesta with a smirk.

“Fine.”

Nesta stands up abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor and almost sending Cassian sprawling when his arm thrown across it goes with the chair. Nesta plucks the microphone from Rhys’ outstretched hand and makes her way toward the stage, her spine straight and chin held high. It takes her a few minutes to find the song she wants, but then the first few notes start to fill the bar. Cassian can’t stop his grin as he recognizes the familiar melody of Taylor Swift, but the smile quickly drops once he fully registers exactly which song Nesta has chosen.

Unlike her predecessors, Nesta remains on the stage while she sings, but she keeps her gaze locked on Cassian the entire time. Cassian can’t look away. He’s entranced watching the way Nesta’s blue eyes spark and flare under the lights shining down on the stage, watching the way her hips sway slightly to the beat, watching the way her lips smirk around the words that she sings. Even as Nesta sings about murdering Este’s husband, even as a voice in the back of Cassian’s mind whispers that maybe this is a sign he should sleep with one eye open, he finds his mouth going dry, his blood heating and thrumming beneath his skin.

“What the fuck did I just witness?” Mor asks when the song ends.

“Yeah, why do I have the feeling I missed something?” Feyre agrees.

“I’ll sing next,” Cassian declares, standing up from his seat before anyone can say anything else.

Cassian makes his way up to the stage, sidling up beside where Nesta still stands. He reaches his hand up for the microphone, his fingers brushing against Nesta’s as he does. For a moment, he swears he can feel Nesta tense beneath his touch, but she yanks her hand back and retreats to their table before he can even turn to look at her.

Cassian clears his throat, hoping to also clear away the fog of alcohol that is quickly taking hold of him. He swipes through the different song options, sorting until he finds the one he’s looking for. He knows it’s probably a bit on the nose, but that last round of shots has already settled heavily in his gut and seems to spur him on.

“You’re on the phone with your boyfriend, he’s upset,” Cassian sings, pointedly ignoring the way Azriel shakes his head and drops it into his hands, keeping his eyes on Nesta instead. “He’s going off about something that you said ‘cause he never gets your humor like I do.”

The drinks continue to flow, and at some point, a very drunk Cassian convinces an even drunker Rhys and a disgruntled Azriel onto the stage to perform a rendition of Single Ladies, dance and all. Too soon, though, the bar is closing and they’re being kicked out.

Cassian tries to blink against the various shapes that all seem to blur together and move under the harsh fluorescent lights that the bar has flipped back on. He tries to keep his feet under him, but it’s easier said than done, and soon he’s swaying right into the chairs of another table as he makes his way toward the bar’s exit.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a messy drunk,” Nesta chastises, her hand gripping into Cassian’s shirt to try and help keep him upright.

“I think you mean a pretty drunk, sweetheart,” Cassian defends, his words sounding slurred even to his own ears.

Nesta rolls her eyes, but she slings Cassian’s arm around her shoulders. “I definitely meant messy, but glad to know you’re still insufferable when you’re drunk too.”

Nesta leads them out of the bar and onto the sidewalk, the rest of their family and friends in various degrees of drunkenness preparing to go their own ways. Lucien has a half asleep Elain tucked against his side, and Feyre, Rhys, and Mor can’t seem to stop drunkenly giggling as they clamber into the backseat of an Uber.

“Do you need help getting him home?” Azriel’s voice comes from Cassian’s right. He practically jumps in surprise, having not even heard his brother approach.

“It’s only a few blocks,” Nesta dismisses, shifting Cassian’s weight against her. “We’ll be fine.”

With a nod, Azriel offers a final wave before turning and heading out as well, leaving just Cassian and Nesta on the sidewalk outside the bar. Nesta turns and starts to walk toward their apartment building, Cassian stumbling along beside her. Pressed this close against Nesta, Cassian can feel the goosebumps pebbling along her skin beneath where his hand rests, can feel the shiver that overtakes Nesta’s body when his fingers curl there.

“You’re cold,” Cassian exclaims, trying to will his feet to stop walking.

“I’m fine,” Nesta assures him, tugging him further along. “Come on. We’re almost home.”

“No.”

Cassian pulls fully away from Nesta, swaying slightly but luckily staying on his feet. He yanks off his leather jacket, wrangling it enough to drape it over Nesta’s shoulders. She blinks up at him in surprise at the gesture, but slowly her hands come up, fingers curling around the ends and holding it close against her body. Something passes over her face, some emotion that Cassian can’t quite put his finger on, but it’s gone as soon as it appeared, his alcohol-addled mind too sluggish to get a handle on what it means.

They continue on their way, Cassian slinging his arm back around Nesta. He tells himself it’s just to stay steady as they walk, but mostly he’s happy for the excuse to lean against her, to keep her tucked into his side if only for the short walk back to their apartment.

When they make it back to the apartment, Nesta deposits Cassian onto the sofa. He lets out a soft sigh as he sinks back against the cushions, tipping his head back and letting his eyes flutter closed. He can hear some clattering in the kitchen and then the sofa shifts beside him, a cool glass being pressed into his hand.

“Drink,” Nesta demands quietly.

Cassian does as he’s told, taking a few sips. “Thanks for tonight by the way.”

“You don’t have to thank me. You deserved to celebrate your promotion.”

“Yeah, but you planned the whole thing, got everyone together even on such short notice.”

“I told you. You deserved it.”

“I can always count on you, Nes,” Cassian tells her, tipping his head back again but turning it so he can still peer at her. “You know, it’s one of the many reasons why I love you.”

Fuck. Cassian did not mean to say that aloud. He’s clearly more drunk than he thought, his tongue a little too loose. Luckily, Nesta seems to pick up on his drunken state too, and she just laughs, like it’s all some joke. If only she knew…

“Oh?” Nesta asks, her tone full of teasing amusement as she curls her feet up under herself. “And what are the other things you love about me?”

Cassian knows he needs to play into the joke, needs to say something witty and funny that will have Nesta rolling her eyes fondly at him, maybe even earn him one of those small smiles that’s just for him.

He knows he shouldn’t say one of the reasons is how beautiful she is, how her hair shines golden in the early morning sun, how her eyes are like an ocean he’d willingly and happily drown himself in. Nor how smart she is, definitely the smartest person he knows or has ever met. Not how her whole face lights up when she talks about something she finds really interesting or that she’s passionate about, how Cassian could sit for hours listening to her talk.

He definitely shouldn’t say it’s how fiercely protective she is of those she cares about, how fiercely she loves her sisters. All her different expressions and poses that he's counted and memorized—the way her nose scrunches when she reads, the way her lips twitch when she’s fondly annoyed, the ‘I will cut you down where you stand’ look when some dickhead tries to talk to her. The way he’s never felt more himself, happier than when he’s by her side.

“What?” Nesta’s quiet voice breaks through his thoughts.

It’s with cold dread that Cassian realizes he spoke all his thoughts aloud. Nesta blinks at him with eyes wide in surprise, a faint dusting of pink creeping up and settling in her cheeks, and Cassian feels like he’s going to be sick. His stomach roils, his heart squeezing tight enough in his chest it hurts to breathe.

“I—” Cassian tries to speak, but no words come out around the lump firmly lodged in his throat. He pushes to his feet abruptly, stumbling around the sofa and down the hallway toward his bedroom.

“Cassian.”

Cassian pointedly ignores Nesta’s call after him, the way he can hear her getting up to follow behind him. Instead, he steps into his room, promptly closing his door and falling back against the wood. He squeezes his eyes shut and prays to the Mother, the Cauldron, and any deity that will listen that this is all just some drunken nightmare, that he didn’t just ruin everything with Nesta.

—

Updated Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1@emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @isterofimias @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @cassiansbigwingspan @unlikelypersonalknight1 @blurredlamplight

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nesta x cassian #omg roommates #my fic

109 notes · View notes

zenthejackal · 7 months

Text

Book 6 Prediction Worry-Rant

...Oh boy. If someone told me the teaser would've caused me THIS MUCH anxiety, I would've just waited until the full trailer (or even worse, the full-on premiere)! I've been freaking out so hard since Thursday's reveal and only now have I gotten myself relatively under control. It also gave me some time to look at others' speculations and theories, so that always makes me feel better too. But now, I've got some questions about what will happen with this next book, and what it will really mean to be "emotionally wrecked".

Slight disclaimer: I heavily reference the info from the post made here by xadian-daydreams. I'm basing my ideas off of this, but all credit on retrieving this info goes solely to him (assuming him, sorry if I got it wrong!). I'll also have some references about Dark Magic from the Dragon Prince Wiki.

First off, I need to understand more about the real toll of Dark Magic. What we already knew was that using Dark Magic requires some form of sacrifice of a magical being, it leaves some form of corruption on the user (with physical changes depending on the severity), and that corruption can be used by Aaravos as a means of linking them together. The first use is a sort of 'jolt' to the body and results in nightmarish fever dreams but is remediable. Apparently, it amplifies the values/feelings of the user when casting it (according to latest Q&A). It has been constantly been referred to as a shortcut, or 'too easy to use', but isn't technically addicting; if you want to stop, there's no strong resistance to make you keep doing it. However, each time you use Dark Magic, it's harder to come back from it. Personally, I imagine this to your teacher's cheat-sheet for a test: at first you only use it to answer a really hard question, but then you keep using it because it's so much easier than relying on your own knowledge.

I need someone to explain to me: what exactly is the "corruption" of Dark Magic? Does it darken the soul to make it more evil, make you prone to the emotions you felt at the time of casting, or a very subtle way of "changing you from the inside out" without you realizing it?

The reason I'd like to know this first is because now we're looking at our 3 main protagonists: Callum, Rayla, and Ezran. First up is Callum, my personal favorite (yeah, that's right, I'm not ashamed to admit my bias). Going into the next book, the main questions that came up for me were:

How will Callum handle Dark Magic from now on, especially now that Aaravos is closer to him (magically and literally)?

Will it be easier for him to give into Dark Magic's temptation now that he's given into it a second time now?

How does Dark Magic affect the trust/friendship he's created over time?

Up until Book 5, I always assumed that Callum would never use Dark Magic again once he got Primal Magic; his one-time use was out of sheer desperation. Now that he's done it again (and after learning a bit more about his true character and motives), my main concern is that continued usage will continue to change him more and more until he's a very different person, someone Rayla no longer recognizes, let alone loves.

Moving onto Rayla, there was no real "progress" in the latest Q&A concerning her and the coins (writers refused to answer the REALLY juicy stuff), but there's still some things I still want to know:

If she's given a choice between her new and old family, who would she choose?

She has always been the one to be willing to sacrifice everything of herself for the good of others; how far will she go, or is there a line she will no longer cross?

How does she view sacrifice in relation to others, i.e. Callum? Is killing him when possessed his sacrifice or hers? Would she be willing to kill those she loves (not exclusive to Callum on this last part)?

Who does she ultimately choose above the other: Callum and Ezran or the world?

I realize that most of these questions center around Rayllum, but this is just what concerns me the most right now. I definitely want her to grow as an individual too, but this relationship between the two is something very special to me, mostly because of how much stronger they are when they're together! I really miss their chemistry!!

...Ahem, finally, we have Ezran. While he is still a great part of the main team, he is also now king. But we haven't really seen him act as one in the show as of yet; he's only really been ruling on-screen for about 2 episodes, gave into the bargain with Viren to try and prevent mass bloodshed, have a brief meeting with his council after the timeskip, and have some strong speeches concerning Xadia and addressing the dragons/archdragons. ...Okay, so that seems like a lot, but keep in mind, that 1) while there are powerful moments, they are still brief, and 2) all of this takes place over the course of 3 seasons so far, when he has begun his rule. I would personally like to see him act/struggle more as a king, mostly because I still see some naivety in his approach. He still acts a bit childish in his views, kind of like: "this is the right choice, so we'll do it" from a logical side. This view oversimplifies the world, and while he does address this in his powerful speech in Book 4, we haven't seen him really struggle with this notion. Your words aren't as strong if you haven't been hurt as bad, and I know that Ezran has a lot of hurt that he's been hiding. I want to see how he handles it. (No questions regarding Ezran, just speculation this time.)

The final cherry on top: can someone please tell me what "emotionally wrecked" could possibly mean for this upcoming book?!! Every time the writers bring it up, I get nothing but depression with a side of gloom and misery sprinkled on top! The only saving grace we do have from all this... negativity... is that it's coming in the second-to-last book, not the last. This also likely means that whatever horrible tragedies we'll face this book have the chance to be resolved/redeemed in the next one. Additionally, any character arcs/growth we go through will likely either continue over to the final book or will be resolved in time for another one. That being said, PLEASE TELL ME, WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO ACCOMPLISH BY DOING THIS TO US?!! THIS SUSPENCE IS EATING ME FROM THE INSIDE OUT, AND I'VE HAVEN'T EVEN DONE DARK MAGIC YET!!!

...Whew, got that all out of my system. Please reply if you've got any answers or comments, especially with the last part (better to rip the band-aid off now). I love a good dialogue! Just please keep it friendly and civilized. Thanks for listening to my rant, and here's hoping for Dragon Prince's continued success!!!

#the dragon prince #tdp #book 6 #dark magic #callum #rayla #rayllum #ezran #i'm a wreck #how about you?

18 notes · View notes

38riku · 2 years

Note

Blasting "We Cry Together" - Kendrick Lamar while the AoT boys are over 😆🖐🏿

Also hi! How've you been sweetie?

꒰⠀♡ — we cry together ꒱

cw — cursing.

notes — hey sweets ! just been getting back into the swing of things after hiatus, but other than that i’m good! hope you’ve been well ! a pleasure to see you as always my love.

wc — 973

click here for my aot masterlist

﹒ eren ﹒ ❊

— waits until the end of the song just to say “what is this shit?” his nose scrunched up and lips twisted in a pout-like frown. it was as if you said the words to him personally but by the way you were reciting them you may as well have.

— trying to explain to him it was just a song on kendrick’s new album is a hardship in itself. no matter what you say he refutes it with an accusatory finger pointed your way.

“it’s just another song on the album ‘ren.”

“you relating a little too hard for my taste.”

— the only way to get him to stop pouting is to shower him with affection and sweet nothings. abandoning what you were doing prior in favor for a movie with him nuzzled against you.

“it really was just a song.”

“mhm it better stay that way.”

— might need to spend the entire night cuddling in order for him to believe you. his conditions.

﹒ armin ﹒ ❊

— he is confused.

— listening with genuine concern in his eyes. the book he was reading now place beside him as he shifts his focus to the lyrics that have him internally recoiling.

“this isn’t what you usually listen to.”

— it was just an observation, he doesn’t mean anything by it. he has heard obscene music from your playlist and some of his closest friends but this takes the top spot.

“oh! you haven’t heard it yet? this is from kendrick’s new album. it’s suppose to represent a toxic relationship.”

— and as the song comes to a close, the two parties ceasing their argument for something more … promiscuous, it all comes together and he is awestruck.

“he captured it perfectly.”

“right!”

— appreciates kendrick’s artistry and storytelling and goes back to reading. will go home and listen to the rest of the album and text you his thoughts.

﹒ connie ﹒ ❊

— he has heard this song plenty of times on his own accord. especially when he’s working out, the intensity of the words pumping adrenaline in his veins.

— when he hears the familiar beat blast through your speakers while in the shower, he channels his inner taylour paige and recites it perfectly.

— you get out the shower to hear him arguing with imaginary kendrick. it makes you silently giggle, wishing that your phone wasn’t hooked up to the speaker so you could record it.

“you really getting into it connie.”

— your presence doesn’t phase him at all. he continues, and it is only until the end he responds to your teasing.

“man, what you know about this?”

— his music taste is immaculate and kendrick is probably in his top five and he ain’t number five.

﹒ porco ﹒ ❊

— a relationship with porco is rocky there’s no denying it. he is distant, apathetic, and selfish if you had to limit his complex persona in three words.

— with that said, he takes this to heart.

“you probably love this shit huh?”

— he looks calm, but there is no mistaking the fire behind his eyes. his body is tense as he walks toward where you’re getting ready for the night, turning your chair around and forcing you to look at him.

“move so I can finish. you the one dragging me to this party anyway.”

“nu-uh, since you think this is funny we ain’t going nowhere.”

— your brows furrow, a telltale sign that you are confused, and by the way you pop your lips, spreading the gloss around, he knows you took his words with a grain of salt.

“what the hell are you talking about?”

— does he realize his assumption was wrong? yes. will he admit it and apologize? no.

“playing this while I’m in the next room waiting for ya. you trying to say this is how I act?”

“it’s the new album I was talking about, dumbass, not my fault the shoe fits.”

— he lets go of your chair and allowed you to finish your makeup in peace, mumbling something along the lines of ‘taking too long’ and ‘we’ll be late’

— he’s just embarrassed he read the situation wrong.

﹒ jean ﹒ ❊

— like eren, listens to it in its entirety, like eren, thinks something is wrong, unlike eren, doesn’t say anything about it.

— why else would you ask him to connect your phone to his radio? playing this song if it wasn’t to nonverbally express your emotions?

— jean is a natural gentlemen, but he does kick it up a notch when you reach his apartment. he takes your coat, your shoes, offers to fix your favorite snack ( even if he has to drive to the store to pick up the ingredients )

— but what sets off the bells in your head is that he lets choose what to watch even when it’s ice hockey night.

“okay, jean, what’s going on?”

— poor boy can’t lie to you so he didn’t even try. closing his mouth shut and shaking his head. it isn’t until you lower your head, giving him a pointed stare a mother would a child.

“I’m sorry I ate your slice of cake! I didn’t mean too but it was so tempting and I promise I was going to get you another one, I didn’t think it would you mad—”

— doesn’t realize that the song is a narrative example, tuned the rest of it out after he deduced you were upset.

— after calming him down and having a talk he wants to crawl in a hole and never come out. not only did he jump to conclusions, but he admitted his greatest betrayal in your relationship.

231 notes · View notes

toujokaname · 10 months

Text

Pump it up! / Episode 2

Author: Chitose Umeda

Characters: Nazuna

"Oddly enough, I feel like I'm the one looking forward to "Idol Nito Nazuna's" pamphlet the most…♪"

← Previous ✧ Directory

Season: Autumn

Location: Training Room

A few days later.

Nazuna: One, two, three, four...

(I decided to consult with Kuro-chin and Chiaki-chin and work on a training program that's likely to show results even in a short span of time.)

(It's been a few days of training, but I still don't feel any changes in my body or muscles...)

(Though, it does feel a bit easier compared to the first day.)

(They say there's strength in perseverance. I'll keep working hard for the "Feature Live".)

...? Just now, is there anyone at the door—

Nazuna: Huh, it's Anzu.

Ahaha, it's pretty rare to see you wearing a jersey inside the ES building ♪

Since you're dressed like that, did you come here to train too, Anzu?

...I see. You've been so busy lately that you've been unable to do your daily exercise routine, so you came to the training room today.

Me? I'm training for the "Feature Live". I'm in the middle of stretching.

Eh...? When you ask me why I'm training, it's kinda hard for me to answer...

We discussed this in the office, right? About the performance and fitness.

After the meeting, I told everyone in Ra*bits that I was gonna do the "Feature Live"...

They're so happy and looking forward to it, they're even more excited about the show than I am about being on stage.

For my juniors and fans who're looking forward to seeing me, I feel more determined about preparing for the show and delivering a perfect stage, erasing all uncertainties.

In the unlikely event that it turns out mediocre... Whether it's because I had a hiatus, or because I'll be standing on stage alone, none of it's an excuse.

I wanna gain strength, build my muscles, and give it my all. I wanna show everyone the best performance I can do.

That's why I'm training on my own accord.

...Though I mean, instead of just talking about being enthusiastic, I should be moving my body. Since we're here, let's talk about it while exercising together ♪

Nazuna: You're glad I told you how I felt?

Fufu. I'm happy that you're putting even more effort into it, but if you get too busy, you might miss your daily exercises again~♪

...While we're here, can I ask you a question about the pamphlet shoot?

During my chat with the Ra*bits members, Tomo-chin mentioned it, and it caught my attention.

As a member of a unit, it's not every day you get a pamphlet that only you are featured in.

I felt it was a precious opportunity, and I wanted to make the pamphlet as good as possible in my own way.

I think I'm a bit overzealous, but...

I wanted to ask you again what kind of pamphlet you want for the "Feature Live."

...Hm, hm. You want it to be full of "good moments" of idols, huh?

To showcase each idol at their best, you want to capture expressions and moments that aren't often seen on stage...

Ohh, so, when you were talking with Kuro-chin, that's why you thought it might be a good idea to take a picture of me doing muscle training!

It's true that I don't look like that on stage. For my fans, it might be a face they've never seen before.

No, you don't need to say, "I'm sorry I didn't explain myself well enough".

After all, I have to listen to what the producer is thinking~

If that's the case... I'd like it to be something a bit more stylish. Having photos of me in motion would definitely be a plus ♪

"What kind of pictures do you want, if any?" ...Hmm~

I dunno what kinda figure or expression is good for me. I'm not used to being photographed like Izumi-chin and Arashi-chin.

I'd like to come up with ideas for it, but they might not come to me right away. If I keep flexing like this, my mind could become more adaptable. I wonder if I'll be able to come up with something.

Hm? You say it's okay to convey the image of myself I want through the pamphlet and the live?

......

Anzu, once the training is over, there's something I'd like to ask you...

Location: Break Room

Nazuna: I initially just wanted to chat a bit, so I'm sorry for getting you involved in work.

But thanks to Anzu's suggestions for locations, I'm starting to have a clearer vision of what I want.

Turns out, there are plenty of great spots within reasonable driving distance from ES. No need to go too far...

Well, I didn't expect so many suitable places for shooting. I'm so amazed I'm practically lost in deciding where to go ♪

Oh, sorry. I shouldn't have taken over your computer.

Anzu, if you've got your drink, why not take a seat here?

After a good workout, let's take it easy... ♪

...Mm, what is it? You wanna know why I wanted to shoot outdoors?

Well~ How should I put it? When you said to me, "It's okay to convey the image of yourself you want through this live..."

I thought, "it'd be good to show that I'm an energetic idol!"

I've had a hiatus from my idol activities, so coming back, I wanted to say, "Look at me, singing and dancing with a smile!"

The people around me are probably more worried and concerned about me than I think.

That's why. I thought that some people might feel relieved if they saw me perform on stage by myself this time.

I planned to approach it as if I'm insisting, "I'm doing this as an idol!" with so much fun, brightness, happiness, and energy.

I wanted to show that kind of image in the pamphlet, so I requested to be photographed outdoors ♪

Running and frolicking in the fields while basking in the sunlight... I'm gonna show off my lively side...☆

And this way, I can also move my body... mentioning it seems like an afterthought, but what I told you just now are my feelings. How about it?

You chose me because you can capture my natural expressions?

I'm glad~ When Anzu gives her stamp of approval, it puts me at ease ♪

Nazuna: You'll be coming along to the shooting too, right? I'll move my body as if I'm playing to my heart's content, so I hope you'll snap lots of pictures.

I wonder what kind of expression of mine will be captured? Perhaps, the me on stage is slightly different after all.

Oddly enough, I feel like I'm the one looking forward to "Idol Nito Nazuna's" pamphlet the most...♪

← Previous ✧ Directory

#chitose umeda #idol story #nazuna

12 notes · View notes

lookmomiwrite · 2 years

Text

I Was Paid to Stay Awake for 15 Days. Here’s What Happened.

Nothing.

Nothing Happened.

I don't mean that metaphorically nothing happened... As in, there were no consequences, good or bad, for breaking the previous record by 4 days. No, I mean literally nothing happened. Time stopped. Reality became empty and meaningless.

According to the researchers, I fell asleep for 15 minutes at exactly the 15-day mark but for me, that moment lasted much longer. It's hard to explain but my body and my mind didn't experience the nothingness. It's something I felt inside of me. Deep down in whatever makes up my existence. It was as if the rules of reality that we all abided by broke down and everything stopped... and then I was awake again.

As if the agony I endured to reach the 15-day mark wasn't bad enough, what came after is something I wouldn't wish on anyone.

I guess I should explain. About 6 weeks ago, I was approached by a trio of researchers on my college campus. They were graduate psychology students who were studying the effects of no sleep on the human body and mind. They were recruiting volunteers for a new study in which the subjects would undergo treatment to help them stay awake longer. Their ambition was to create medication that allows people to stay up weeks at a time without any negative consequences.

It was a grandiose goal and perhaps dangerous for the people volunteering but they were paying $400 for each full day we could stay awake. As a broke college student, this was the opportunity of a lifetime. Tuition was due soon, I was already months late paying it, and I already had $50,000 in student debt.

A few days later I was scheduled. I would be staying in their lab while they monitored me 24/7. The first couple of nights weren't anything special. I've pulled all-nighters before at LAN parties with my high school buddies. It wasn't until the 55-hour mark that I started to slow down. I was given a few pills that would help me stay alert. They told me I'd have to take them every six hours for them to be effective and with life-changing money on the line, I was willing to do anything.

The rest of the study was a blur. It's hard to remember the details, what I did to stay awake. Did I do any experiments to test my cognitive ability? Did I even interact with anyone? It's too hard to remember now and it doesn't matter anymore. I'm too tired to think about it.

I don't remember the nothingness but I can still feel it. The emptiness won't go away. It flows through my soul. It's not something I can easily explain to someone who hasn't experienced it. It feels as though I'm no longer connected to myself as if I've moved beyond my physical body but it's hard to tell what reality is. I haven't slept for quite a while now.

Eventually, the experiment came to an end and my experience left me delirious and confused. A doctor checked my vitals and thanked me for volunteering. I was handed cash, $6,000 right in my hand. If I hadn't been awake for 360 hours, I would have done a little more than a small smile and nod. I was then escorted back to my dorm room so I could finally rest.

I fell asleep the second my body touched my bed. The sleep deprivation hit me hard.

I had the worst nightmares since I was a child. I dreamt of ethereal beings stealing my very existence. They came from somewhere beyond this world to ours to fill their own. I woke up at 9 am drenched in sweat. Dreams were always weird and this was no exception. I thought it was just a coincidence that I had the same feeling when I awoke that morning that I had at the end of the study. I'm not so sure it was a coincidence anymore.

I couldn't stop thinking about the nightmare for the rest of the day. I've always heard that we dream of experiences we've already had. Sometimes it might be a movie you watched, a book you read, or maybe a random encounter with a stranger. There was always a familiarity to dreams; although, they always seem absurd and completely illogical. That dream, that nightmare, felt too real. It was hard to stay focused.

The next night I went to sleep early. My roommate was getting back late from a weekend trip and I wanted to get a head start on sleep before his rustling kept me awake.

I had the same nightmare. This time, the ethereal beings seemed hungrier, as if they had a taste for a new, exotic meal and wanted to dine on it once again. I could feel myself being ripped from my sleeping body despite my attempts to wrench myself free.

I became aware of a shadowy figure staring at me beside my bed. I tried to move with every ounce of strength I could muster until finally, after what felt like minutes, I was able to pull myself from a deep sleep. It was my roommate. He told me that I was screaming in my sleep and flailing. I even put a hole in the dorm room wall.

I used to have night terrors as a kid so I didn't put much thought into it, after all I had just recently been awake for 15 days straight. There were bound to be some lasting side effects. I pushed it to the back of my mind. There was nothing too abnormal about it.

Unfortunately, I had an exam coming up and I wasn't prepared. The terrible sleep from the previous two nights and the sleep study left little time for me to learn the new material. I decided I was going to pull an all-nighter or two since I didn't want to fail this class.

My study session started off normal but as the day came to an end I became increasingly drowsy. I was fighting off sleep when I started to hear soft whispers coming from the hallway just outside my door. They were loud enough to disrupt my studying. I wanted them to stop. I would get up to see who was standing outside my dorm but each time there was no one there. I would go back to studying and soon after the whispers would return. I tried to put on headphones but they only grew louder.

I began to hallucinate by the following morning. At first, it was just inconspicuous shadows in the very corners of my vision. Just visible enough to be mistaken for a fly or some dust floating in the air. As the day drew on, the hallucinations worsened. Small shadows turned into figures hiding within the dark recesses of my room, whisperings amongst themselves. I thought it was just sleep deprivation. That I just needed to get some sleep. I wish I listened to my instincts. I wish that the feeling of my hair sticking straight up would have alerted me to the danger I was facing. Maybe it was the lack of sleep clouding my judgment. Instead, I slept. I needed sleep if I was going to pass my exam the next day.

Another nightmare. This time I was in my room. The ethereal beings hovered over me with ghastly smiles as they began to steal whatever it is that makes me, me. I fought to move. I poured every ounce of power into my body. I commanded every fiber of my being to wake. My eyes opened and I was met with the familiar sight of my room. I laid there paralyzed, only able to move my eyes.

I watched as a shadow in the corner of my room began to grow, swallowing the light that passed through it. A void of nothing devouring its surroundings. It felt too real to be a dream... It was real. I could tell - somehow. When it reached me, I could feel it penetrate my skin. I felt it pressing against my body, suffocating me with the weight of nothing. I tried to scream but I couldn't. My lips were sealed and my words compressed in my mouth, unable to find a way out.

And then as quickly as it started, it stopped and I awoke.

I haven't been asleep since then. For a while, things seemed to get better. The whispers and hallucinations went away within the first couple of days. I began to think it really was my sleep-deprived mind playing sadistic tricks on me.

I let my guard down.

They came back... the voices. The hallucinations too. Whispers and laughter turned into screams and cackles. I was engulfed in a cacophony of wails and guffaws, a relentless torrent of suffering. The shadows grew nearer until I could feel them crawling along my skin, itching for a way in. They were always looking for a way in.

I'm trying to fight it but every hour I stay awake I get weaker and they get stronger. I know that if I sleep now, I might not wake up again. My only choice is to never sleep again.

I don't know what's happening but I do know that you shouldn't follow my path. If you stay awake too long, you'll experience nothing, just like I did. Don't experience nothing. Because when you experience nothing, nothing experiences something. It won't stop until it has something. It won't stop until it has you. It won't stop until it has me.

I'm writing this as a warning. Whatever I did, it broke the barrier between our world and theirs. When I'm awake I drift into the realm of nothing. When I'm asleep, they invade the realm of something.

It's been 14 days, 13 hours, and 42 minutes since I last slept. I don't know what will happen to me if I stay awake any longer. I just want it to stop. I can't sleep anymore. Not unless I want them to come back and steal my existence... I just hope nothing will be better than this.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I write horror, fantasy, and sci-fi and will be posting multiple times a week!

Oh, and don't forget to reblog this and follow me! I want to share my writing with as many people as possible. :D

Hope you enjoyed it!

#horror #writing #short story #creepypasta #creative writing #paranormal

82 notes · View notes