#I still need to play the game more so I can fine-tune his story

[rheiple]

Tea Party in Hell

OneShot

▪︎SUMMARY↦ To think that the tasked that you've been handled would be the cause of meeting your one and only source of nightmare fuel.

▪︎WARNING/s↦ Cussing, Not proofread (I just made this like a min ago)

▪︎CHARACTER/s↦ Eclipse, Reader

▪︎WORD COUNT↦2252 [Minus the dots for the timeskips]

▪︎AUTHOR'S NOTE↦ I have not poster for 5 months☠ uhmm hi again, it's been so long since i have posted, I missed writing fanfics so much 😭 But! School is almost over and I can finally have a 2 months break to focus on my hobbies!! I hope you all take this apology gift for me being dead in 5 months 😭😭 (If I'm being honest idk if I should be embarrassed at the fact that this fic is way longer than all of my 4 essays combined 🕴)

You never really thought of how... unique the Daycare Attendant's room is.

Upon opening the secret door that led you to your robotic friend's room, you scanned everything inside. From the hanged up drawings of the little kids, to the disturbingly looking broken staff bots lying on the corner, it didn't help that with their damaged head it looks like they're all at you.

It really surprised you. That because of their obsession with keeping everything clean and perfect, you assumed that their room would be neat.

Well... everyone has problems you guessed, maybe they're too busy with their job to clean up their room. Poor them, overworking theirselves to shut down. Maybe in another time you'll offer to help them clean their room.

You went inside the tube to access the other side of the room. You see something big that's covered with a dusty blanket. You assumed that it's the arcade machine that the staff decided to keep in there... The confusion on how they got that thing in is giving you a headache, and what pains you more is that you have to get that out when you have fixed it.

You huffed at the thought, why do they need this arcade machine anyways? There are plenty of unused gaming machine at the lowest floor, and they're still working pretty well! What's with all the hype on this one?

Taking off the dirty blanket, you see that the arcade machine looks new... It's already powered on, does Sun and Moon play this game?

You examined it closely, searching for a coin in your pocket. You'll just play the game to see if it's working, if it does then you'll bring it outside and clean it up, easy as pie.

But out of the blue, The name of the game appears on the pixelated screen. It's jolly tune of amusic made you immediately jumped out of surprise.

"What the hell? Is this game haunted or what?" You narrowed your eyes suspiciously at the screen. Do they really think that you're a exorcist and not a staff? You really should thought of this through before signing up for this under paying shit of a job.

Hesitantly in doing so, you grabbed the joystick and pressed on a random button to start the game.

So far it went ok, the game is working well, the sky switches from day to night. Everything is going smoothly wait what the fuck did the game glitched did the sky turned red??

You blinked your eyes, but it turned normal as if it the wasn't even real.

Hell no, you stopped playing and turned around. You know you're going to get paid less, and that's fine because you'd rather live than experience some 3 a.m. scary story creepypasta kind of shit.

You flinched at the sudden ear rape sound that the arcade machine emits. Looking back you noticed that the machine is shaking. Black fingertips slowly emerged from the glitched screen.

You didn't have to think two seconds to try and dart through the tube to get out of that room.

And try as you might, but the moment took a step back the said black hands chased after you. They took a hold of your feet and arms, dragging you slowly, inside the haunted machine.

"Let me go! Assholes!" You twist and turn, kicked your legs and punched one of the hands and yet all of your efforts were in vain.

You're eyes darts around to look for anything that could stop them from pulling you inside, you took blocks and hit them with it. You hold on to the big blocks, or anything that that's heavy to not get pulled.

"No! no no nononono!"  You frantically kicked on the machine, lowered your whole body down all to not get close to the screen. You think it worked, for a minute.

Your face drained of color when you see two robotic pair of chance come out. They grabbed on to your waist.

"...Fuck."

You got pulled into the machine.

.

.

.

You sharply gasped at the sudden jolt through your body. It's so loud, you can't focus. You're sweating real bad. You inspect everything around you.

Breathing heavily a few times, you calmed down a bit. And it helps to make you more aware of your surroundings. The loud sound suddenly going lower and slower.

You realized now that the sound you heard earlier was your own heartbeat.

To say that you're going mad is the right word. The place your in looks like an imitation of hell. Bloodshot red of the sky, those black clouds that are thinly outlined with a bright orange. You noticed that that you aren't laying down on a floor, but rather floating, yet not a cloud, just floating.

You look up at the sky and see-...

Your breath hitched upon making eye contact with the culprit who you think is the reason that you're in this hellhole.

"Is that... a god?"

It's face like the Sun you know, but the colors are very dark and, if you look hard enough you could see the inside of the mouth is glowing with a bright yellow.

The creature went down to you, you saw how it's body is just a big black of glob. It took all of your face muscles to not grimace at the sight of it, you didn't wanna die because of offending it in anyway.

The robotic glitched face tilt it's head looking at you.

You gulped at the staring, and decided to greet him quietly.

"...Hi"

You were grabbed by the wrist.

In one quick motion, it lead you up in the sky, abose the clouds when you look down you don't see anything other than the color of the sky.

You screamed and cried, you didn't do anything to deserve this! Sure you might've said something mean to someone but that wasn't intentional! That was the most you could have done at being bad!

You curled yourself into a ball, if you're going to die you hope they make it quick, you want all of this to end. You can just live peacefully in your second life, no more pain, no more scary robots, no more demonic eldritch being wanting to kill you.

You feel them stop and let them go of your hand. You wiped your eyes to clear your vision. You look around to see everything dark, you know you're in some kind of void, but there's alot of stuff hanging around above you.

You look at the monster in confusion. "W... What's all those?" 'Are you going to kill me with all those items?'

It didn't respond, opted to only look at you.

This suddenly irked you. All this silence is about to  you hysterical. What's his problem? Does he want to see you suffer? He's already done it, why can't he just kill you now?!

You noticed a shadow looming over you, looking up you see a... Kiddies table coming down between you.

The creature backed away to give the table some space.

Your gaze went back up at the stuff above you, to see two cups and a glass teapot filled with... tea? Or coffee? Either way you're not going to drink that.

It landed on the table, each cup is at the end, with the teapot at the middle.

You eyed the creature, it doing it's  head tilt again. "I'm not gonna drink that." You said whilst your crossing your arms.

The teapot floats up again and pours the content at your cup, doing the same at the other. The delicate object went back to it's position.

... Right, an indirect way of telling that you didn't have a choice to begin with. You clicked your tongue in annoyance. Glaring at the monster, asked why you're here.

A minute of silence, and then it finally replied back. "ₒₗd... fᵣᵢₑₙd.." The creature whispered.

"Uh, what??" You couldn't help you're harsh tone. Out of all the things it could've said, it said something so... Weird. As if all of this isn't.

"Old friend who?"

The monster points at you.

Wow. Ok, this is so confusing and stressful. You know that you haven't met it before, so it's highly likely that it must've mistaken you for someone else.

As if reading reading your thoughts- well, at this point it probably is, you're not surprised at anything what it does at this point. The creature called you with your own name.

"Y/ₙ.. ₒₗd f₋fᵣᵢₑₙ-d.."  

You cringed at the sound of it calling you by your name. You look down at your uniform to not see your nametag. It knows your name.

Shoulders are tense, you're back is straight. You kept your guard up incase of anything bad will happen. "Get straight to the point, what do you want from me?"

The monster, let's out a glitched and low sound of a motorboat. What the hell is it doing? Putting a curse on you? You should've brought something holy to smack that with it.

"ₘᵢₛₛₛₛₛ,, y₋ₒᵤ₋ᵤ.."

You're not deaf, you are sure that this mother fucker just hissed at you.

You backed away for a bit, and raised up your hands when it tried to inch closer. 

"Oi! Back the fuck up!" You semi- yelled at the Eldritch as a warning... When you think about it, what is there to warn it about? It could've killed you if it wanted to. Compared to it, you're just a human being with no powers what so ever.

But to your surprise and relief, the creature backed away. Although you think it's because it's of the darkness, you shrugged off the thought of the creature lowering it's head because it was sad of what you did.

Good, he deserved it for scaring you and taking you away.

Now that everything is calmed down, you repeated your question once again.

"...ₕₑₗₚ₋ₚ ₘ₋ₑₑ.."

"Help you? With what?"

"Fᵢₙd...ₘₑ₋ₑ"

You scratched the back of your head. "I don't understand, all of this doesn't! You're already here so why do I have to find you?!"

You head starts throbbing, your vision is getting blurry each second. What? That's impossible, you didn't even drank the fucking tea!

"..ᵢₙₛᵢdₑ."

You collapsed.

.

.

.

You're being moved. Left and right. Someone familiar is calling your name.

"Y/n..."

Each time you don't answer they're call, they shake you harder.

"...Y/n."

You feel like throwing up from all the things you've went through today. It all felt like a bad dream.

But was it really a dream? You've felt it touch you, it was so real.

"...Y/n?"

And it asked you for help to find it. What does that mean? Find it, inside? Does it mean the arcade? Should you check inside the arcade?

"Y/n!.."

You jolted upwards to sit. You look around, only to see Moon with a worried face.

"Y/n... What are you doing here?"

Loss of words, you shakily pointed at your phone. He seemed to get the memo, as he went for it, he turned it on and went into your emails.

Hi Y/n,

Jamil, your coworker, is here. You were asked by the Fazbear manager to repair the arcade game in the daycare attendant's room. He claimed that kids have a lot of requests for an arcade game that is centered on them. I'm confident you'll be able to locate the movie pirate poster at the theater where their room is located.

You can take your time, but with Fazco, they would like to have the required completion by tomorrow morning. We deeply appreciate on what you do for us, and please be careful.

Regards,

Jamil Mariano

The moon themed animatronic sighed. He went to you and gently picked you up. "I'll take you down stairs.. You need to rest Starlight."

You fidgeted with your fingers. "But what about that?...The Fazco, and the arcade?"

"That's why I'm taking you away from it, Star. You've been through enough, you deserve to sleep well."

You leaned on his chest. You could worry about the machine later, right now you trust Moon to have your back... Just, a little nap wouldn't hurt..

The night themed robot emits a lullaby, a great distraction for you to not hear him talk with his other half, that's been talking inside their shared minds.

'Moon?...Do you think they saw him?'

He lets out a tired sigh. "They probably have.."

The Sun began to ramble question after question to fill their minds with. What should they do? Do they need help?- Oh, of course they do! But how do we help them?? Can't we just destroy the arcade machine?! No wait, what if it went to another arcade machine, or worse, what if went through their phone?! Who knows what he have done to our Starshine-

The moon softy hissed at his counter part. it annoyed him to hear him worry like this, yet he understands. He too is worried for their friend's safety, that's why they need to deeply think this through before they might do something rash.

"Let's... Not worry for now, they're safe here.. And we should focus on the present, to be aware of our surroundings... to protect them.."

The rambling died down, and Sun agreed... However, they couldn't really push back down their thoughts, they need to act quicker than him. If they dont want to loose the only friend they have.

#fnaf x reader #fnaf sb x reader #security breach x reader #fnaf sb #moondrop x reader #eclipse fnaf #eclipse x reader #eclipse x y/n #fnaf x y/n #fnaf sb x y/n #daycare attendant x reader #fnaf security breach #fnaf daycare attendant

[renegade-skywalker]

Experiments in Idle Pleasures

Summary:

Merit pays Gale a visit in his study with the intention of surprising him with dinner but ends up providing a welcome distraction instead. Set post-game.

Word Count: 4,480

Rating: E

Notes:

Not required reading but I mention a pair of enchanted rings here from my other fic, A Soft Proposal, which this acts as a bit of an unofficial but spicy sequel to, that provides a little more backstory on how I imagine the rings to work, though you can parse out how they function if you only read this one anyway ;)

~~~

It was the first time in weeks Merit found herself in the throes of possession.

Her fingers spirited over her lyre, an unwritten song summoned unbidden from her fingertips as if she’d known its melody already, intimately familiar with its every intonation. Pen to parchment could hardly keep up. Her palms were smudged with ink as she committed each verse to paper and hoped her handwriting accurately translated every bit of inspired scrawl. 

It came in parts. 

First was the melody, its inherent theme emerging as every note was simultaneously played as if just-discovered yet also intimately-known. And then came the verses, hymnals and mismatched bits of poetry inherent to the song itself but not yet stitched together in the proper order, its words needing finessing, its structure needing bolstering, its overarching story needing a careful hand and even more fine-tuned ear.

She thought it had taken all afternoon, but before she knew it the room had grown dark and the warm sea breeze from the open window had grown cold. At first Merit thought night had crept up on her, midnight upon her when she was only expecting it to be four o’clock at the latest. But after glancing at the device on the far side of the room she realized it wasn’t quite as late but also not nearly as early. It was almost nine.

Papers scrawled with notes and semblances of song scattered about the room in the oncoming gale from outside, rain beginning to patter at the windowpane. 

Gale, her mind echoed, thinking of the rain but also of her love, still tucked away in his study upstairs. Gale.

Similarly enraptured by his own life’s work, it appeared that the time had slipped Gale’s mind as well, though it wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. Merit hadn’t gotten so lost in a song in ages and she was glad to find Gale so buried in work that he no longer found himself pacing in whatever room she happened to be in, biting a nail and running a nervous hand through his hair as he recounted every possible minute misfortune that might befall his new tenure at Blackstaff Academy, his anxiety from so long a time away mostly attributed to his desire for his every lecture to be absolutely perfect and without pause, an ease Merit soothed would come with practice - not unlike her singing and songwriting.

Merit continued scrambling about the room collecting her things as she thought of him. The room was one Gale set aside to have her design entirely as she wished upon moving back to Waterdeep. He’d taken a thoughtful approach to her moving in with him, proposing that she have some say in the entire tower’s decor and overall appearance since it would now be a place they shared (with Tara’s input as well, of course), but this room was hers and hers alone. 

It once housed my very impressive, though perhaps rather hoardsome, collection of Weave-touched objects, Gale had recounted with a wan smile upon showing it to her for the first time, barren save for the dust motes floating in the idle shafts of sunlight that filtered through the window. It would bring me nothing but joy for it to be entirely yours now, to do with as you wish. This room was empty long before my rather timely abduction, so perhaps by some serendipitous twist of fate this space was always meant to be yours.

Merit smiled at the memory, the warmth of it sating her as she closed the windows against the encroaching storm. The room still smelled of salt air as she closed the panes against the suddenly insistent rain, relishing in the sound and the smell of it as the petrichor intensified from the balcony just outside. Thinking the better of it, Merit left one pane ajar if only to let the scent in before she finally left the room and descended to the kitchens.

Not her usual domain other than on quiet mornings when sleep failed her and the dream of baking bread filled in her dreamless gaps, Merit tiptoed her way around the space as if trespassing, which it very much felt like. Though she knew the larder by heart, its every nook and cranny known to her at this point, she dared not disrupt the unspoken spell of a system Gale had placed upon the space - which was to say there wasn’t any actual spell placed on it, only his incredibly meticulous organizational preference insisted on every facet of the room and its contents. So instead of altering anything, she spied the soup Gale had prepared in the cauldron above the hearth the day before, still covered, smiling at its remaining wealth before deciding to heat it up and warm a few rolls of her own sourdough along with it before finally retreating upstairs with a generous slab of butter and a honeyed cup of tea to bring it all together. 

Merit rapped gently at Gale’s study door, counting to ten before knocking again and almost instantly hearing a rushed but quiet Come in, come in.

He often did this. He’d hear the door but doubt himself as he kept on reading or writing, awaiting a rejoining rap at the wood before answering as if never quite believing his own senses when drawn so deeply into his work. Upon his invitation, Merit nudged the door open with her foot and slid inside with the serving tray as leverage, careful not to tip anything over as she finally slipped inside. She set the tray on the nearest surface clear of clutter, which was an endeavor in and of itself, and took it upon herself to light a few more candles as she bit back a knowing smile, eyeing Gale’s already squinting eyes in the scant light as he scribbled in one book whilst having his nose pressed in another.

“I made dinner,” she proffered lightly. "Well, you did, technically. Yesterday."

Gale mumbled something indecipherable as he wrote some more, discerning his notes before reconsidering his source material, his bespectacled eyes looking from one set of words to the other twice over before eventually acknowledging Merit.

“Dinner?” he asked absently, “ But it’s only-”

His eyes finally glanced sideward out his study room window, realizing that what he had presumed to be afternoon was now already well past night.

“Huh,” was all he said as Merit took the bowl from her serving platter and placed it in his unsuspecting but welcome hands. 

“This is the soup you made yesterday,” Merit said, at first referring to the bowl’s contents before also passing him the bread and butter, “It’s thickened into a bit of a stew over the hearth so I warmed this to go along with it.”

Gale looked dumbfounded at both the bowl and the bread before looking up imploringly at Merit who hung over his shoulder like a parrot atop a pirate, only instead of echoing his every command her only intention was to make sure he began eating. 

“You’re starving,” she insisted as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Trust me.”

Gale laughed a hollow, tired laugh as she pressed her lips to his temple.

“Thank you,” he said, a begrudging resignation lacing his voice though not out of indignance but instead of appreciation, forever a man too proud to say he’d lost track of the time but forever indebted to a woman intent on feeding him anyway. To think of how many nights Gale went without a proper meal despite his inherent skill whenever Tara wasn’t around to insist otherwise or at least remind him of the time almost made Merit sick with a retroactive worry. “Truly.”

“Make no mention of it,” Merit said, insistent, “Just-”

But before she could finish her thought, Gale raised a hand and reached for her lowering head, bringing her face back towards his as she leaned over him so he could kiss her again but properly this time.

Their mouths inverse, Gale pressed an eager kiss to Merit’s still half-smiling mouth, this time parting her lips with an eager tongue. Allowing him passage, Merit melted against him though she had no idea what possessed him. Not that she minded either way.

Merit finally pulled out of their kiss if only because the arch of her neck was starting to ache, though she would gladly go on kissing Gale forever despite it. 

“I don’t want to distract you,” she said in a whisper, her lips brushing against his. “But-”

Before she could finish, Gale deposited his dinner atop the desk as he twisted in his chair and grabbed her gently but firmly by the waist, his hands nearly clawing at the fabric there as he pulled Merit onto his lap.

“What if I could use a good distraction?” he asked in a low husky voice, his eyes mischievous over the rim of his glasses. “Plus, you’re too good to me. I need to return the favor.”

“It was the least I could do,” Merit obliged as she slipped her arms around Gale’s neck, biting down on her bottom lip at the sight of him, always fond of how he looked in glasses. “You really ought to consider raising your bar a little.”

Gale pressed a kiss to her temple, lingering there as he relished in the scent of her. 

“You’ve raised the bar plenty,” he said before nuzzling against her head.

Merit softened beneath his touch, leaning her head further against his as she hummed pleasantly under her breath. 

“What are you working on?” she asked in a half-whisper. “Going well, I hope?”

Gale sighed into a smile against her cheek, making Merit feel warm all over. 

“Exceedingly well, in fact, even though I’ve hit a bit of a wall,” Gale admitted into her hair. “I’m not surprised time eluded me so completely.”

Thankfully, the windows in Gale’s study were already shut against the coming storm though not out of any abundance of caution and instead because there were far too many precarious piles of books stacked in front of the panes to open them properly. Merit would have suggested some spring cleaning if she knew that the space hadn’t also doubled as a practice ground for finessing spells as well, the darkness sometimes aiding Gale’s often intense focus and need for absolute precision.

“I don’t want to take away from your work, though,” she protested in earnest, their heads still resting together, Merit’s fingers now absently caressing the back of Gale’s neck. “It’s taken a while for you to get back into the swing of things.”

Gale said nothing, instead absently puckering his lips against her forehead in a half-hearted kiss, his mind clearly elsewhere. His fingers grasped more despairingly at her dress, inching the fabric up ever so slightly.

“I wrote a song today,” she said softly against his skin. “If you’d like to hear it”

“Always,” he said, one of his hands winding up her back until his fingers met skin. “I love hearing you sing.”

Merit shivered into the ease of his touch and settled there, the very state of her teetering on the border of comfort and arousal. Her skin grew warm as she snaked one hand gently down Gale’s back, slipping beneath the open collar of his shirt, while the other threaded through his hair.

“Why do I have a feeling you have something else in mind, though?” Merit asked, one hand softly raking at Gale’s scalp, relishing in how he held her closer as if in immediate response to her hungry grasping. 

“Because I might,” Gale admitted, this time placing a kiss at the base of her ear, nestling his nose in her hair afterward. “You know, for science.”

“Hm,” Merit considered in earnest. Her song had been about idle pleasures, small saccharine moments mounting to a greater hunger, stolen perhaps but all the more sweet for their idle if not indulgent appetites. Perhaps her inspiration had been more divinely inspired than initially intended… “I’m of a mind to indulge your scientific inclinations, if that’s where your ever so diligent research has led you this evening.”

Merit couldn’t help but think of the first time they kissed, not to mention the few times after. Gale had kept her questing heart at bay at the tiefling party by warning her of his not-yet-quelled orb’s potential for destruction, its ire possibly inspired by whatever errant excitement might flow through him at any given moment, but by the end of the night, in part to Merit’s insistence as well as a good deal of wine, Gale had given into his idle if not ill-advised desire to kiss her, inspired no doubt by the vision she’d shared of the very same through the Weave. The vision come true, and both of them intact in the aftermath, Merit had raised a timid hand to Gale’s chest, her fingers tracing his scar as she wondered at the implications. 

In my experience, the best cure for doubt is study and experimentation , he’d uttered against her lips, the hunger for another kiss clear in the way he looked at her and held her to him, as if the moment may very well slip through their fingers and be lost forever. And an experiment must be repeated at least thrice in order to ensure accuracy, of course. If you did want to repeat it thrice, I can certainly make myself available.

“It would only be prudent,” Gale argued, kissing her neck now. Merit sighed and melted against him.

“Well, if it’s for the greater good,” Merit played along. “We might as well.”

“Might as well,” he echoed.

Gale sowed kisses up her neck, across her jaw, and up over her awaiting chin before kissing Merit square on the mouth, pausing there as if savoring the taste of her. Gale’s hands met again at Merit’s waist and continued their earlier work of gathering the fabric of her dress, only stopping this time once the hem reached precariously over the curve of her thighs. One hand descended, planting itself firmly between her legs and paused as Gale kissed Merit with an earnest and hungry mouth, hours worth of studying and meticulous calculation quickly recalibrating so he might best have Merit in whatever way his imagination was already conjuring up in his mind’s ravenous eye.  

Without instruction, Merit swung one leg around Gale’s torso so she straddled him proper. The feel of him between her legs sated an inner keening she knew not of until the very moment it was satisfied, rolling her hips against his in a way that made her want him even more. She wanted to feel his skin against hers, his want against her want. None of this was part of her plan, intent only on feeding him dinner but suddenly finding herself indulging him in dessert first instead. 

“Gale, I-” she said before Gale wrapped her in another kiss, though no further argument followed. 

Gale’s hand remained poised at the warmth between her legs, running his fingers along the stretch of linen that separated him from the strength of her want for him. Merit eased herself against his touch just as his other hand rose to her chest, pulling precariously at the neckline of her dress until her breasts were exposed completely. He traced the outline of her before running a careful thumb over the curve of her, her nipple growing hard against his touch as well as the open air.

“No fair,” she argued, tugging at his shirt. Before reaching for the hem of his shirt, Gale reached for his glasses but Merit stayed his hand.

“The glasses stay on,” she urged into a kiss before relinquishing, pulling away just far enough for Gale to remove his tunic, and to her surprise, sensing his desire not just against her but thrumming through her veins in kind. Glimpses of various states of undress, hungry mouths slaked but wanting more, skin warm and sweatslick, all lanced through her mind’s eye courtesy of the ring Gale had gifted Merit in asking for her hand along with the full-bodied impulse to hold her closer. Mirror image cravings laced with longing yearned out of her in return, Merit’s own wishes bestowing Gale with a parallel idea of how the evening might progress if they let dinner remain a delicious afterthought. “I’ll indulge your experiment if you indulge me with this.”

“But you’re blurry,” Gale argued weakly into another kiss as Merit’s hands began their intrepid exploration of his now bare chest, enticingly raking her nails with a gentle sweep over the pleasing shape of him:  the base of his now unscarred neck, the sloping edge of his collarbone, and the soft swathes of curled hair that spanned the sinew of his muscles tensing beneath her touch. A sigh rich with yearning escaped Gale’s throat.

Merit kissed Gale still as she mentally shared her image of him, the thought filled to the brim with want as she took in the sight of him between every breath, that same desire inspiring every kiss that followed. Gale relented, humming into her kiss and smiling against her still-hungry mouth as he relished in her unending ache for him, an ache that echoed sweetly within him and yearned to be sated. 

“Perhaps I can manage,” he whispered in eventual surrender, his lips brushing against hers before he pulled back slightly from Merit’s seeking mouth, smiling when he saw the disappointment on her face. Or at least guessed it from what he could make out through his glasses. “If it keeps you feeling like this.”

With that, Gale’s touch circled with practiced pause over the center of her, the fabric betraying Merit’s inexplicable craving, his other hand tracing a delicate arc over the exposed curve of her in a way that made Merit shiver, her breath quickening. Merit could only nod at him in quiet request for more, her eyes heavy-lidded with a covetous need for Gale to be closer yet cursed with a warring desire for him to keep teasing the very want out of her.

He deserved this, knowing just how much and how badly she wanted him. As much as Merit wanted to stop what she was doing and please him until Gale became so utterly undone that he hardly knew his own name, she wanted him to know this. To feel this. Her pining for him was more than a physical need but a spiritual indulgence, a pleasure made perfect only because of the depth of her love for him, fueled exponentially so by his matching devotion to her.

Their minds married beyond the mere symbolic, their shared desires and errant pleasures flowing freely through the joined rings at their fingers, informing their every touch, each caress, imbuing every stolen kiss with something both known and yet to be discovered. 

Half imagined yet experienced in full, Merit and Gale shared in a wealth of thought and sensation, their shared rapture bridging the gap between real and imagined as Gale’s hand crept carefully yet delectably beneath the last slip fabric that separated them physically, gratifying Merit’s mental pleasures by appeasing her basest need.

“Right there,” she found herself sighing against him, though nothing at all needed to be said, her hips magnetized against the deliberate rhythm of Gale’s touch as he delved deeper. “Just like that, yes.”

A wave of exalted elation flooded Merit’s mind as she kissed him, a gift from Gale as he brimmed with the knowledge of her desire, relishing in the wetness of her want for him and yearned for more of it as he pressed her every pleasure point with an eager yet craving effort. As if in response, Merit conjured an image with the express purpose of it being shared between them, a prediction as well as a wish - Gale overcome with a demanding necessity to be inside her, half-clothed yet too impatient to carry her to bed - easing herself against his venturesome fingers in a way that both abated her growing need of him yet fed it just the same. 

Gale panted deliciously into Merit’s each and every kiss, before eventually grunting pleasurably against her ear, whispering, “You know me so well - too well.”

Merit bit back a self-satisfied smile at the sound of his confession, melting against his fingers as well as the warmth of his breath on her neck. 

“What if we try something else first?” Merit ventured, a smirk threatening to overcome her expression as the thought occurred to her, mouthwatering in its deviousness. Perhaps it was cruel of her to keep this from him, but in the spirit of science she thought it worth a try as she lowered one hand down to the undeniable bulge at the inseam of Gale’s trousers to ease his want out for her to please while she continued to ride his fervent hand. 

Gale couldn’t speak, suddenly overcome with a whole other world of want for her as his unspoken gratification at Merit’s similarly scientifically inclined mind met his keening physical craving for her, clear in the glazed way he looked at her now as well as in the way he eased his hardness into the palm of her hand, gyrating against her anticipating touch. Merit smiled, pleased with herself, as she sighed in kind and tried to kiss Gale again, their beings brimming with several universes of want and need threatening to converge precariously into one.

Gale let out a low groan against Merit’s mouth as she touched him, sighing against his hand in kind with another greedy roll of her hips. She ran her fingers lightly along the warmth of his shaft, smiling into their kiss when she felt him tremble at her touch, before closing her palm around the pleasing girth of him. And then she conjured the image again: of Gale inside her, thrusting the wealth of his want inside her again and again with a careening urge that walked the line of utter necessity yet drove dangerously into ravenous indulgence, bordering on excess. She grew wetter at the thought just as Gale grew harder, their respective hands thirsting to feel the others’ culminating rapture whilst desiring for the dream to be made real, simultaneously feeling as if it were in the reality of their shared minds’ eye.

Merit whimpered against Gale’s mouth, every part of her vibrating with excess longing that made her mind and her body feel like a live wire bristling with electricity. She communicated the feeling, receiving a similar sensation psychically in response, their mounting lust brimming dangerously close to completion until their shared cup runneth over - though that was also the entirety behind Merit’s deliciously devious plan.  

She eased the cradle of her palm against him, pleased to feel Gale grow harder and harder beneath her careful caress. Gale’s mouth wilted against hers, at first an involuntary response to whatever she was doing to him, but then deliberately, his lips then kissing the length of her jaw until he met the spot at the base of her ear, eliciting an unbidden sigh from Merit’s throat. The shared fantasy continued, this time images pouring from Gale’s mind into Merit’s: his hands hooked beneath her legs, lifting her along with him as he stood from the chair though he remained pleasurably deep inside her, as he then unceremoniously swept his hand across his desk, disheveling his days’ work to lay her against its slanted edge and urge his keening need for her inside again and again, the feel of him sweet and syrupy as he pressed kiss after feverish kiss against her skin. 

Merit grew unendingly wet around Gale’s ambitious fingers at the thought, the feel of him growing hot beneath her hungered touch. They panted, whimpering into each and every famished kiss as they each succumbed to the dream completely, collapsing against the other, laced in each others’ resulting cravings made real, endlessly warm in the waning aftermath of their shared climax.

It was quiet then, the air warm between them as they caught their shared breath, the memory of their fabricated fantasy hanging in the air along with the sweet reality of what transpired, still saccharine and endlessly abating, a promise of more to come. One experiment of many more.

“So,” Merit sighed, a wave of contentment falling over her every limb like a welcome shroud, a satisfied smile possessing her lips as easily as her earlier song had. “Do your results support or contradict your theory?”

“Hm,” Gale said as if both truthfully considering this whilst mischievously playing along, his gaze going soft as he took in the still half-clothed vision of her from over the rim of his spectacles. “You threw me for a bit of a loop there when you posed that unexpected hypothesis, though I must say that the outcome was far more in line with my initial suspicions than I hoped to expect.”

“Mhm,” Merit rejoined, running her hands over his chest again. “And? Final thoughts and conclusions?”

Gale succumbed to a soft smile, one that met his eyes and made Merit feel warm all over as he nudged her closer, resting his forehead against hers.

“Any time spent in your company far exceeds even the most ambitious of my expectations,” he said whispersoft before placing the gentlest of kisses to her unsuspecting lips, a wealth of affection lacing the beat of every second spent between them. “Though, I must admit, it did open up an entirely new train of thought, which… will require further study, of course.”

Merit bit her bottom lip as she hummed into a self-satisfied smile. She knew the experiment only started as a means of distraction, perhaps a welcome diversion that would eventually aid Gale’s tired mind in reaching whatever studious conclusion he had been aiming for in his work all day, only to find himself now possessed with the desire to explore the further implications of the rings he’d enchanted, intent on discovering just the lengths to which they could push its linked capacity to bridge their minds and their every imagined desire in between. 

“Well, I’m available for any and all further experimentation, if need be,” Merit promised with another kiss, sweet and slow. Gale pulled her closer, savoring the taste of her. "Once you've finished dinner, that is."

Gale smiled, speaking softly into her kiss, "I’ll be sure to keep that in mind."

~~~

(More) Notes:

A bit of head canon backstory: I never have the heart to trigger Gale's pick-up line about experimenting thrice when you have to choose between him and another romanced party member, so in my head he says this line to Merit as they test the boundaries of their mounting affections during the course of the game. In my head, they've at least tried to kiss, or made some attempt, before the orb is quieted in Act 2, but as per their experiments they discover they can't go much further than that otherwise it starts to glow rather ominously… I plan on exploring that head canon in a later fic but figured I would at least explain my line of thinking here anyway.

#bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #gale x oc #my writing #the brainrot is strong with this one

[slightlyunconventional]

hello friends 🫶🏻 more k/az fic for you all !! loved writing this one and i might even go so far as to say im pretty proud of it! wow!! anyway i hope you enjoy reading more k/az torture <3

spices (a.k.a. writer is horny for holdbacks and absolutely loves ravaging pretty boys)

Kaz looked up in disinterest from the fan of playing cards in his hand. The rowdiness of this card game was exhausting - Jesper and Nina shrieking in delight every time they won a single thing, Matthias grunting Fjerdan curse words because he didn't understand the game, Wylan showing Jesper his hand every thirty seconds because he also didn't understand the game - and Kaz was sick of it. The relief that washed over him when he heard Inej call his name from the kitchen was almost palpable. He sighed tiredly and slammed his hand face-up onto the table (a Royal Flush, might I add) and strode through to the kitchen, revelling in the outcry of the others on the table at his win.

The kitchen of the Slat was a rundown room, all battered counters and barely functional appliances, but Inej made it feel homely, warm. Kaz thought she did that to any room, though. He felt his shoulders ease and the day's stress begin to fade as he gazed at her slight form, dark hair twisted easily into a sleek braid which cascaded down the bronze of her back and shoulders. She looked totally in her element as she cooked, her small hands making fine work of slicing vegetables and preparing various cuts of meat, all the while she hummed a gentle tune that met Kaz's ears like the loving touch of a hand in your own.

"You called," he said, softly. Inej turned to face him with a smile.

"Yes," she said, "I just needed another pair of hands."

Kaz nodded. "What can I do?"

Inej gestured to an old wooden board with various vegetables lined up across it. "Could you chop those up for me, please?" she asked, voice kind and melodic, "I just have to keep an eye on this pot, so it doesn't boil over."

"Of course."

Admittedly, Kaz wasn't the best at anything that went on in kitchens. He'd never really had any practise, apart from in far gone years of youth - years which he had elected to forget - but he tried his best nonetheless. He slid off his gloves tentatively and lay them on a clean section of the counter, then picked up a knife and got to work. Between the clacks of the knife on the board he stole glances over at Inej, who was stirring a large pot on the top of the stove. His haphazardly cut vegetables were nothing in comparison to the perfectly even slices she had already produced.

Kaz heard the sizzle of the pot as Inej added a variety of spices, ones he knew to be Suli from his listening to Inej's stories about her parents and childhood. The air became heavy with their strong scent. He tried not to focus on the delicate work of her hands but instead on the not-so-delicate work of his hands. They shook slightly as he levered the knife up and down, and it took a moment or two to register why. His head felt a tad light, and he found himself relying slightly more on his mouth for breathing, and suddenly, like a fire roaring to life, a burning, incessant tickle bloomed within his sinuses. He'd never felt anything like it - the itch was like an inferno, its flames licking at his nostrils and pricking tears into the corners of his eyes, shallowing his breaths into short, sharp, irritated hitches.

"-hiih-hiHh-hHH-hhiiIHh-!"

Kaz's chest stuttered desperately as he fought hard to keep the impending sneeze at bay. His breathing now came out in rapid gasps - he knew he couldn't hold out for much longer but he was still willing to try.

He lifted his free hand shakily to his face, pressing two slender knuckles firmly against his nose, and fought to regulate his unsteady breathing. The grip he had on the knife in his other hand had tightened as he struggled against his nose. Speaking of his nose, the fiery tickle from before had spread like wildfire in his sinuses, and was creeping its way into the back of his throat, threatening to tease out the irritated fit he was trying so desperately to hold back. He knew it would inevitably be no use trying to fight it, but he did value the last shreds of his dignity very much.

The aroma of the spices in the air only seemed to be getting stronger as the steam from the pots on the stove carried the scent throughout the air. Kaz's eyes were streaming now, as his nose would be had it not been for the firm press of his knuckles against its tender, sensitive surface. It was all he could do to blink back irritated tears and continue trying to cut Inej's vegetables clumsily with just one hand. He could feel his nose twitching instinctively under the press of his fingers, begging to be freed of its torture. Kaz would do no such thing.

"h-hiiHHh... hHaAAhh-!?"

Each sharp intake of breath was threatening, burning, like he could explode at any moment.

A particularly strongly scented spice made its way into the air. The tickle in Kaz's nostrils quickly peaked, becoming so fiery, and so, so unbearable, that he dropped the knife he held with a clatter and clamped his hand over his nose, refusing to back down. His breaths became vocal, desperate, almost whining hitches that pled for release as he fought and fought against his instinct. He brought a single, shaking hand up to his eyes to weakly wipe the hot tears from them, too caught up in the haze of trying his damnedest not to sneeze that he didn't notice Inej approaching him from behind.

That was, until, she placed a gentle hand onto his upper arm.

"Kaz," she said, "let yourself sneeze."

Kaz's glassy, streaming eyes met hers, his brows furrowed deeply and his chest still stuttering desperately.

"B-buhhht, I c-can't... don't... don't- hiihHh--wantto-kKSHHHhiiew! hah-hAH-haHiiIHh'KSCHHhiih! 'kKSSCHHhiiewh! -sSHHhiihh! HaAHh'KKISCHHhiew! Oh, I'm... I c-cahh-haAHh'ASCHHhiew! 'ISCHHhih!"

The fit started pitchy and rapid, with sneeze after sneeze barreling its way out of Kaz, with barely time for a breath in between - and they just wouldn't seem to stop. He gasped again, unable to do anything but hover his shaking hand in front of his face in a last ditch attempt to cover the violent sneezes volleying through him.

"-haAHHSCHHHhiew! huh-huUHh'hkKSCHHhiihh! 'KKSHHHhiewh! ...it's the... it- haAHhiihHh-... the sp-hehHAh'ISCHHhiew! S-sorr-ISCHHhiih!"

Kaz's sneezes rapidly grew messier and more vocal, as though he'd been holding them off for a century. Each outburst snapped him forward at the waist and left a fine mist of spray upon the air - and there was nothing he could do but let it happen.

"The spices, I know," said Inej. Kaz felt her hands on his shoulders and she began to guide him towards the door.

"W-wait, I'm nohhiIHh-! Not done--! hiihHH'SCHHhiew! haAh... hah-haheHh..."

"You need to get out of here, Kaz. The sooner you get out and get cleaned up - and for Saints' sake blow your nose - the sooner this will stop."

"haAHHSHHhiew!"

"Exactly. Now let's get you to the bathroom," Inej said, guiding him by the shoulders out of the kitchen. Amidst his incessant sneezing, he heard Inej say, "Not a word," to the others sat at the table, who had long since abandoned their card game in favour of eavesdropping on Kaz's issue.

Kaz's head was spinning when Inej sat him down on the lid of the toilet. The entire way from the kitchen to the bathroom, Kaz was sneezing, over and over, aimed directly downwards so as a result each explosion sent spray right down his front. The tickle in his nose still burned fierce but he managed to hold off the next few outbursts in order to regain stability.

"Saints, Kaz," Inej said incredulously. He looked up at her, eyes still shining with irritated tears, right as his breath snagged in his throat and he snapped forward with three harsh sneezes.

"haAHh'sSCHHhiew! 'aAHSHHhiew! huhh-hUHiihH'KSCHHhiih!"

Inej set herself to looking for a box of tissues in the bathroom cupboards, while Kaz sat pitifully on the toilet seat, sneezing lazily into the open air. After a short fit of about five sneezes, he managed to catch himself a break, though the sneezing was replaced by incessant soft sniffling. Inej turned back to him and pressed a wad of tissues into his hand.

"You look awful," she said matter-of-factly, "now, blow your nose."

Kaz obeyed. He put his face into the tissues, glad for something to cover himself with, and blew his nose. The heavy congestion which had taken up residence in his sinuses shifted, triggering a fit of pitchy sneezes into the tissues.

"haAHh'iISCHH-hiew! 'huhHiisSCHHh! 'hiisSHHiew-isSCHhiiewh!"

He finished the set with a miserable series of sniffles.

"Bless you. That was adorable," Inej said, "Spices made you so itchy, huh?"

Kaz's only response was another sneeze.

"huUHh'iiSCHHhuh!" He wiped at his nose with the tissues in his hand, still sniffing wetly. "Not adorable," he said thickly. Inej breathed out a laugh.

"Sure you're not," she replied. "At least your sneezing is slowing down now. Bless you again, by the way."

Kaz tilted his head. "But I'm not g- oh. huH-hiiHh'sSCHHhiiewh! h-haAHh..."

"Another bless you might be in order," Inej said.

"hhaAHhh'kKSHHhuh!" He sniffled thickly again.

"Called it," said Inej with a smirk. Kaz rolled his watery eyes.

"Well I knew that one was coming."

#wooo!! finally #snz #snzblr #snz kink #snz blog #snzario #snzfic #sneeze kink #s/ix of cr/ows

[blorbologist]

Pikelan with the "gestures that gets me on my knees" prompts? If you want a specific one of the bunch, maybe the "you want that, love? I want cuddles tho'", but any of them are fine :]

[Of course! Set in TLOVM, because Makin' My Way happened over the course of a few days - surely some stuff happened over that time, right? Didn't get to smoochies tho, sorry the vibes were not quite that.]

It’s… wait, he needs to count. 

Okay, it’s three days into their trek down the mountain. Scanlan’s feet hurt bad and his back hurts worse, because Pike was stabbed and like hell he’s letting her haul Grog’s scrawny ass around. Even puny like this, he’s still a goliath.

Unfortunately, without those big muscles, there isn’t really much warmth to be found when they dare not light a fire. Like tonight, when they spied some bandits parked on the road they finally found. Maybe they’ll just - dunno - use the river to make more progress tomorrow. 

Man. He’d really kill for Trinket right now. Bear stank, but at least he had one good use. 

Grog passed out within, probably, a few minutes of scarfing down what Pike was able to fish from the river. So it’s just the gnomes, now, against the dark, against the cold.

And - and maybe Scanlan’s a little delirious from hunger, because Grog ate half his serving before he could get to it, and it really should be repeated that it’s been a long fucking few days - 

But? Pike might be coming on to him?

He’d usually cut out the might, because let’s be real, Scanlan Shorthalt is irresistable, and when he is resistible a wink and a song usually get the girls and gents to change their tune. Pike is a whole other beast, though - beyond the fact she could squash him like a bug (wow), she plays him like a fiddle, somehow, and he gets tongue-tied in a decidedly unsexy way. So he really doesn’t blame her for not taking him seriously. Honestly!

So he really has no fucking clue why her hand is on his thigh, and she’s laughing at what he’s singing and listening to what he’s saying, and not the other way around. 

He’s had cause to thank the gods (the Everlight specifically, lately. No reason.) for his darkvision before. Lots of good cause, really, from sneaking out before dawn to - well. 

Scanlan’s pretty sure he mouths a prayer, because this can’t be real. She can’t be real, white hair blue with shadow and gold with moonlight and subtly the richest thing he’s ever seen. 

How are her eyes so fucking pretty? They’re grey. His are grey. No one writes ballads about grey eyes. He’d fix that, right now, except he can’t string words together in his head. He’s still talking, though, but no clue what he’s actually saying. 

Better shut up. He does. With a gulp. 

“C’mon, Scanlan,” Pike prompts. From beneath her lashes - fuck’s sake, that’s sinful. That has to be sinful, looking like that. And he knows sin. 

(He’s not a man his mother would be proud of.) 

Apparently he’s gone catatonic, because Pike nudges him. “The rest of the story? The boat, and the fleece? What happens next?”

He has no fucking clue. Scanlan swallows. “I - let’s head to bed,” he says. “It’s late.”

“Yeah,” Pike replies, not looking the least bit tired. “Let’s.”

And she doesn’t move.

Or she does, but it’s not away, to curl up under one of Grog’s arms, as far from his armpit and as close to his body heat as she can manage. 

It’s into him. 

Silver is too weak a word, platinum to cheap, for what he sees in her eyes. 

“Scanlan,” she says.

He gulps. Really appropriate comedic timing. “Yeah?”

“What happens next?”

Maybe, now - just maybe - he can… they can… scratch that might? He’s reading this right - right?

So he gives it a shot: he leans in.

Pike rests her forehead against his and his stupid little heart might give out there. 

And then.

She fucking.

Winks. 

“You want me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

Scanlan sputters. “I - Pike - you -”

“Oh, I don’t mind.” She grins, cheeky little - “It’s a good look on you.”

He reads something he shouldn’t, then. That earnest devotion she has in prayer, and how she shutters herself off from talking about it too much around their party of godless friends. And Vax, now, especially, and whatever the fuck he has going on. A fire blazing, banked low.

Yeah. He gets scared. 

“It’s late,” he repeats. And, because he can’t resist trying his shitty luck: “we might need to cuddle for warmth, though.”

Pike snuggles into his side. He definitely feels warmer, already. And she looks at him a little coyly, and he doesn’t need a fire anymore. “Can I be the big spoon?”

He feigns indignity. Which is, let’s be clear, really fucking hard around the huge grin he has.

Mildly spicy prompt game! Ft. ships I want to write more of <3

#critical role #tlovm #the legend of vox machina #scanlan shorthalt #pike trickfoot #pikelan #tlovm spoilers #critical role fic #cr fanfic #ask game #prompt game #my writing

[lynnslittlelife]

A Little Moment With Satan

Satan's turn! I have a couple requests, that I'll get to very soon! I had some more requests on archive for the Little Moment series, so I did this one first. Next one is Asmo's little moment, and then one for Diavolo! Following that, it'd be one for Hazbin Hotel, so stay tuned if any of those sounds interesting!

Thank you to everyone who's shown me support so far, I appreciate each and every one of you!

Word Count: 1,121

You were trying so very hard to fall asleep…but nothing was working. It didn’t help that you were little, and that side of you was just begging to play. Games, or toys. Anything. Anything would beat the boredom of just laying in bed doing NOTHING. Though if your boyfriends knew you were up so late when you were little…you shuddered to think. 

Not that anything terrible would happen, but even the smallest of punishment seemed too mean right now! Timeout was the worst. So you thought of who you could go to that wouldn’t tell on you. One boyfriend came to mind, and you KNEW he was up right now. He was always up late reading or scrolling through cat videos. 

He liked to be different, so when there was one on one time with him, he didn’t like to be called daddy like the others did. He wanted to be called Papa, and that was just fine with you! He also had special outfits for your little or big spaces to show him you wanted time with him. Not that it needed to be said, but he did hold a certain amount of comfort in you wearing clothes picked by him. 

So you ran to your closet and grabbed your green and yellow onesie. However putting it on proved to be difficult. You were too small for all those arm and leg holes! And that zipper? One of the world’s greatest mysteries. How anyone could use a zipper was beyond you right now. It almost made you cry, but you did whimper a couple times. So you did what you could, and called Papa. 

It barely even rang once, when he picked up. “It’s a bit late, what are you still doing up?” He didn’t sound irritated, in fact he sounded a bit confused, but pleasantly surprised by your late night call. “Is everything alright? You know you can always come to my room.” He stated, and you could hear him close his book and stand up. 

“P-papa…” Was all you could, and needed to say. It clicked for him, and you could hear him rustle around. You weren’t sure what exactly he was doing, but you knew one thing for sure: He’s coming to your room. When you said that magical word, he was always right by your side. 

As you suspected, within a single minute he was walking in your room and hanging up the phone. “Hello, dear…you know it’s definitely too late for you to be up like this.” His tone was stern, but his face showed only compassion, especially when he saw your messy job of putting on your onesie. “Aw…look at you!” He then used his voice reserved for you and cats. 

“Was someone having a hard time getting their onesie on?” He walked closer and you did an “uppies” motion, and it made him chuckle. “Alright, alright but we have to get you dressed first.” Making you pout momentarily before raising your arms to show you would help him with the clothes. 

He eased you into them, putting the leg through the right hole before carefully putting your arms in. Satan used one hand to tickle you while he zipped you up, and both of you ended up laughing from it. “There! All better. Now let’s get you to bed, dear.” He lifted you up, and laid you in the bed with a softness he didn’t usually have. At least…not with his brothers around. 

You crossed your arms and pouted. “No bed!” But you didn’t in the least fight him when he laid you down, until he tried to put the blanket over you. “NO BED!” And you kicked the blankets back off. You already tried to sleep! It wasn’t working! But those words were too big for you right now. 

He tilted his head and tried to figure out the problem, but knew just what to do. “Okay! No bed. But can I tuck you in? There’s a story I know you’d love to listen to. I can read for you? Would that be okay?” He smiled and patted the top of your head. He knew how much you loved for him to read to you, and he figured out long ago his reading voice would put you right to sleep this late at night. It was a win-win situation. He’d get to spend alone time with you, and you could get to sleep. 

“Hm…” You thought with a serious face, “Two stories!” And beamed at him, making him laugh. You reached for him, and he let you for a moment, before pulling back. You whined, but didn’t protest. You’d get your two stories and you both knew it. “Two!” You said again, and laid down fully, letting him put the covers over you. 

“Alright, alright. Two stories. But I do have to go get them, I’ll be right back. Promise.” And he shook your pinky before you could even prompt for it. “No take backsies!” He said, all but running out of the room to get your story books. It made you laugh, too, since he would be the only one who could take back that promise. Your Papa could be so silly. 

He returned in record time, and brought out two kid’s books you haven’t read yet! It was exciting, and you knew he only got them for you. “I promised I’d be back!” He said, and got comfy in the bed next to you. 

You sat up, and put your head on his shoulder so you could see the pictures. They were drawn really cute, and made you even more excited to have the books read to you. Turning a couple pages, he stopped you. “Hey! No spoilers, dear. You’ll ruin the fun!” But he smiled, and patted your head once more. 

Just as he suspected, it took maybe half of the book before you were asleep on his shoulder. He was quick to realize it, because your commentary died off, and you began to snore softly. He set the book to the side, and laid you down in a more comfortable position. 

Satan tried to get up, but you only pulled him closer. It was alright, he would have years to read more books. He treasured time with you more than any book in the world, and having you cling to him…it was just too cute. He allowed you to rest your head in the crook of his arm, and used his other arm to slide over your middle. He clung to you, just as you clung to him. Even though he wasn’t your only boyfriend, he was your only “Papa” and that meant all the world and more. 

#x reader #papa! satan x little! reader #gn reader #sfw agere #sfw little post #agere #little! reader #sfw littles #little space #little! reader x obey me brothers

[dichotomousvariable]

hiiiii! i'm kat (she/her) and this is my son wooseok!

i'm super excited to be here and really looking forward to plotting!!

i will probably be faster to reply on disc (thegongoozler) but tumblr ims are fine too if you prefer. you can find his about here. i'm still working on his bio, but it's in a sort of bulleted form here for a basic timeline!

y'all know the drill. infodump and potential plots under the cut!

wooseok was born in new york city and lived there until he was about 12, so he's fluent in english as well as korean (his parents raised him speaking both).

wooseok is an only child, and as such, his parents were always heavily involved in his business, for better or for worse. (usually for worse)

he's still kinda scared of his dad but that's another story.

as far as they know, he's just doing a single program for comp sci, but he picked up the dual degree for music theory ... haha oops

follow your passions, kid (he feels very guilty for lying.)

wooseok's power is telepathy, it manifests for him in two ways: hearing others' thoughts and memory viewing

hearing others' thoughts happens automatically (when he doesn't have a patch), and can very quickly get overwhelming

as such, wooseok likes to keep the patch on as much as possible. it's really hard to enter a room and hear like 20 people as if they're talking aloud

"hey wooseok, you ok?" "I Can't Hear You" (the room is silent)

he's trying to get better at dealing with it/tuning some voices out, because he knows using the patch as often as he does isn't safe. when he really focuses, he can sometimes get them to quiet to a manageable level, but it never completely goes away, and it takes a lot of brainpower.

he doesn't know this for sure, but practice does make perfect in this case! come, be his friend, help him grow! make him practice instead of just hiding!

so the first time he used a patch was like the first time he experienced silence and he's still chasing that high

the secondary application of his telepathy--the memory viewing--is more of an ordeal. it requires sustained physical contact, is very tiring, etc

for subplot, he's the treasurer for together for daehan! realistically, his thoughts/opinions fall somewhere between the two groups, but he's been in this position for a while and... he doesn't like change.

generally he's a friendly guy, and he wants to make more friends.

he can sometimes come across as standoffish though because when that patch starts to run out he has a short period of time before things get too overwhelming (or he's just focusing really hard on keeping others quiet)

potential wanted plots...

wooseok needs friends, particularly friends who won't let him get away with cancelling plans as much as he probably does

as mentioned above, friends that help him to practice being okay without nullivi could be fun!

people who are musically inclined to do jam sessions with and bond over music!

he really loves video games and WILL play them with your muse! he will also ask if they want to play fun little games he coded as projects.

friend who would see him slapping a fresh patch on super fast and be like "dude is that safe"

idk there's always shenanigans with telepathy/hearing thoughts. if your muse so much as thinks a compliment he's gonna blush so that's fun

i'm cool with pre-est, discussion, anything! i love plotting so please come at me with anything and everything

#nm:intro #he is such a mess pls #like hey man #your power isn't going to hurt anyone why are you so scared #anyway yes hi hello i'm excited! #edit added some basic bio link

[nocturnalghoul]

Mushy May Day 27: Game Night

A little something about the ghouls having a weekly ttrpg game (in this case Monster of the Week). Cirrus takes over running the weekly game and is feeling a bit imposter syndrome-y but the enthusiasm of her pack quickly shows her she had nothing to worry about.

I tried to make it rules-light enough that even if you have never played MOTW or any ttrpg it should still be followable.

Also a quick little tag for @ghouletteanon because you had asked me to way back at the beginning of the month :)

Words: 699

Rating: Gen/ Everyone

Read below the cut or on AO3 here

The ghouls have been playing their current Monster of the Week game for a few sessions now, and Cirrus was extremely pleased with how it was progressing. For a while Dew had been DM’ing a game of DND for about half the other ghouls, but they all had to stop when everyone's dice kept “mysteriously” disappearing. They pretended it was a mystery but really Rain was stealing all the dice that were pretty and hiding them around his room, and Mountain wouldn’t stop eating the others. Soon enough there were just normal standard bulk set d6s left so they decided to switch to another system. 

Cirrus had taken over the helm of GM since they switched to the new system and it was a lot so far, but luckily the pack has been super supportive. Everyone finally seems to have a decent grip of the new rule system and character classes so she finally can start to get into the proper mystery. Running a game is a bit more nerve wracking than playing in one though and Cirrus has been struggling to keep up her normal collected confidence as she runs the game.

She finishes up describing the large sprawling labyrinth below the main city the characters find themselves in and starts humming the soft eerie notes of a melody faintly heard down one of the pathways. Once she looks up away from her notes she notices the way that everyone at the table, as well as Aether and Cumulus who were playing cards on the other side of the ghouls den are all looking at her completely enraptured. There is a sense of pride that bubbles up inside her as her confidence in her abilities solidify slightly. 

“So, how do you guys proceed?” she prompts after wrapping up the haunting tune. Everyone just blinks at her for a second before remembering oh yeah it's a collaborative effort and getting back to the game. They explore the large labyrinth for a while, until finally getting to a point of interest that whatever monster they are looking for clearly just vacated, Cirrus laying heavy details of all the general mayhem of the area and the scuttering sound that while present before is now gone. 

Sunny rolls uncharacteristically well in her attempt to investigate. As she composes her thoughts on what to ask, Cirrus can’t help but smile as she shuffles a few papers around. Luckily the way everyone tries to investigate leads to exactly what she was hoping for. 

“All of the clutter in the chamber seems to point to one centralized area. In the dead center of it you find this.” Cirrus narrates beaming. She pulls out a wrinkled stained piece of paper with burn marks along the edges from a tiny wooden box and hands both items to Sunny. 

“You made fucking physical props for this?!” Dew immediately shouts out, attempting to take the paper from Sunny to read aloud. “Shit Cir’ you are killing it. Making my old half-assed effort look bad.” 

Dew reads what appears to be a diary page relating to the strange occurrences aloud. Just as Rain and Mountain begin to argue over what it all could mean, Copia walks in interrupting the flow of conversation. 

“I know it is game night, but I really need to borrow Swiss for 10 minutes at most real quick” he sheepishly tells them. Cirrus begins to say that’s fine and that they can all just take a break real quick, but the rest of the people playing immediately launch into complaints about how important story things are happening and can’t Copia wait a little bit so that they can sort everything out. 

Cirrus re-asserts that they can just take a break and watches as Swiss sighs and moves to follow Copia. “Fine, but nothing better happen while I’m gone.” he grumbles as the two walk off. 

Whatever doubts Cirrus was having about her ability to run the game are squashed as she watches everyone playing last maybe 20 seconds before they launch into thoughts and ideas about what's happening based on the diary entry.

Swiss does in fact, miss out on a lot while he is gone.

#fun fact I didnt go into the module but Cirrus is running one I wrote :) #I can still catch up by end of month idk what you are talking about #mushy may #nocturnal mushy may #the band ghost #nocturnal writings

[stnaf-vn]

Hi!

I was wondering if you could tell us why you started working on STNAF and what got you inspired and how long it took you to put out the demo?

I’ve been wanting to start a VN but I guess I don’t really know where to start? And yours is just… amazing, I love it a lot. I played twice and got the friend? and boyfriend endings! I’m excited to see the whole game

I guess I’m just wondering what the process was like to make (and still are making) STNAF

Eeeeee I'm excited to learn about your story!! This may be a little long but I'll try to explain it as best as I can!! Well....for starters I didn't actually expect anyone to be invested in this LMAO. I was just like "Man...it'd be cool to make a game." I was going to just base it off the animation but....I thought Friend's character deserved more substance than 'mean, manipulative Friend' So, I love the yandere trope and I think it's so interesting, so I made him a yandere. All game devs start at ground 0, but if you want to make a VN, there's loads of information in LemmaForums, Reddit, Youtube, and you could also ask game devs for advice as well!! (Lord knows how many times I asked @queenlilithprime for help) It took me quite a long while, the demo would have came out a lot sooner if my Macbook wasn't a piece of garbage, but honestly I'm glad it didn't and I'm glad I pushed it back. The original demo had some of the worst art I ever created and I was ashamed of myself for wanting to so badly get it out there I sacrificed quality. So, I pushed it back. Rushing yourself on anything is never a good thing, especially when it's a project you care about so deeply. I rewrote the script three times in the past two months because I couldn't decide on how I wanted the story to progress. Then I came up with the story you know now, and let me tell you: At this point I was BURNT OUT. I was afraid I wasn't being the best I could be, and if I can be completely transparent, there were times where I thought other game devs could handle the story better than I could. But,I started it and I refused to let it be half finished. So, I sent it over to beta testing and there were quite a few bugs. Lily helped me so much work through them and taught me some cool coding tricks. They also helped me get rid of that quick menu (which was more difficult than I expected LMAO) And, well, now here we are! Demo is out, and it's gotten such amazing feedbacks and small things that'll make it even better when I get the chance to update it. My way of working starts like this: 1. Synopsis. Writing down a short paragraph of what the game will be about and how each chapter/day will go is super helpful! Think about what you want your VN to be like. Do you just want to make a short and sweet VN, or do you have a full story to tell? Pull up a Word or Google doc, and write down a small synopsis. 2. Assets/Sprites. Once you have the idea down, fine-tune it so you know what type of sprites and assets to make (backgrounds, props, music, etc.) This is where you get ~artsy~. I use Procreate for my stuff. 3. Game Script. This can be the tricky part. I use Ren'Py for my VNs and I use Atom to edit/write. It's just easier for me since I am familiar with Atom, but there's tons of different text editors out there (Although Atom quit on me, so I switched to VSCode. ) 4. Beta Testing!! You ideally want to give yourself around 3-4 weeks to fully beta test and work out any bugs you might encounter (having others play it can be super helpful too)

There are probably other ways to do it, but this is just what's easiest for me!

So...I hope that helps Anon!! If not, my DMs are open if you need any assistance!

#yaboi game dev tips #​💾​- see thru need a friend game

[raisengen]

I’m not usually someone who is good at questions like “what’s your favourite?” or “what’s the best?”. Different things have their own merits in their own ways, and it often feels reductive to try to rank things against each other. It’s rare for something to stand head and shoulders above the competition.

If you asked me what the best video game I’ve ever played was, I would be tempted to name something like Brothers – A Tale of Two Sons. A game that pushed what was possible to achieve artistically with video games, and gave a visceral experience that was only possible in the interactive medium.

But in the end, I think the game I’d nominate, the one that I’d preserve in a museum, the one that I’d launch into space, is Armored Core For Answer.

It’s not a game that challenges what it means to be a game. It’s one of the most video-game-y video games to ever video game. Discrete missions picked from a menu, letter grades and hard modes, sudden difficulty spikes, multiple endings and a minimalist plot.

It’s also really really good. At being a video game. At everything.

This isn’t some nostalgic veteran talking. ACFA is my first (and currently only) AC game. I picked it up last year on a blind recommendation and because I knew it had good music. On that front, I got my £4’s worth from the opening cinematic and title screen alone.

However, it wasn’t a genre I’m very familiar with, and I was initially sceptical of some of the gameplay. Why do I need so many different stats to tune?  Why offer so many different machine parts? Why not smooth things out, give a few plug-and-play options? So goes the conventional wisdom. But ACFA showed me that it was more than justified in its choices. It sold me on a fantasy I barely knew existed, to be Amuro Ray fine-tuning his Gundam and reviewing strategies to take down fearsome enemies. All those “redundant” stats? Turns out there would be times when I would want to tune all of them.

(Well, almost all of them. Still not 100% sure why I should build a mech that dodges further to the right than the left.)

Easily half of my gameplay time was spent trying to surpass the chapter 2 boss, White Glint. It wasn’t enough to just grind against the fight; I had to assess the challenge, and research how to prepare countermeasures. I built up experience and tuning points on other missions, I refined my anti-mech designs on the ladder matches. Determine enemy strengths and weaknesses, fine-tune my build to compensate.

While no other boss fight was such a cliff-face, they did repeatedly force me to rethink my strategies and expand my view of possibilities. I do like the Dark Souls games, but locking your investments in stats and upgrades sorely limits the ability to create bosses that make you completely rethink the game like that.  To realise you know how to fly.

I also gained a new understanding of what it can mean for a game to be “fast”. When both you and your enemies are this mobile, it can be a challenge to just keep the target on the screen. Too fast to rely on reactions, too variable to rely on memorisation. What I needed was prediction, anticipation. Estimate the enemy’s motions and attacks, understand how you’re moving through space relative to them, stagger your attacks to trap their dodges, land the sword strike because you guessed it was likely the enemy would be in range by the time you pressed the button.

Admittedly, it makes gameplay videos half-incomprehensible, because the camera’s shaking everywhere and half the battle’s going on inside the player’s head. But it’s a wonderful experience to be absorbed into the game so fully, and I hope that soon you won’t have to take my word for it.

I could continue to gush about the way the story and gameplay framing matches well with the player character being a mercenary, the construction of a bleak world in such an open way. Or how bazooka shotguns are the best thing ever. But I have to stop somewhere.

(I will say though... the battle UI could’ve been better. If you’re going to make me fight White Glint without any boss health bar or other visual/verbal clues as to their damage taken, the least you could’ve done is let me change the colour of the damage numbers so it wasn’t white-on-white and I would actually know if I shot the target. Grhmph.)

#Armored Core #long post #I very much hope the new game can capture even some of that experience

[ear-worthy]

“The Ten News” Podcast: News You Can Trust For Your Children

Somehow, people believe that children’s programming is easy. They’re kids. “How hard can it be to inform and educate kids?” After all, Sesame Street has done it for more than 50 years. Mr. Rogers had his show for over 30 years.

It’s turns out that children’s programming in any medium is exceedingly difficult. It’s like threading a needle blindfolded.

That’s why The Ten News podcast is simply so good. It is terrific children’s programming. This is how The Ten News describes their podcast: “The Ten News podcast explores topics that kids care about most including events, sports, science, gaming, pop culture, entertainment, and more! With new episodes every Wednesday, it’s a great way for you and your family to stay connected with what’s going on in the world.”

In its first two seasons, the podcast has produced and released an amazing 129 episodes. In its first two seasons, the podcast has welcomed notable guests such as LEGO Masters Judge Amy Corbett, America’s top doctor Dr. Anthony Fauci, and Sarah Natochenny, the voice of Ash Ketchum for Pokemon fans.

The Ten News podcast just launched its third season with a brand-new logo, format, and co-hosts. The Ten News delivers quality news content to kids 8–12. The third season started with a back-to-school special and a helpful explainer of the terms used during Hispanic Heritage Month. Do you know why Hispanic Heritage month starts on the 15th rather than the first?

I didn’t. Well, tune into the episode to find out.

Season three will include a breakdown of the midterm elections featuring a sit down with Shaniqua McClendon, Crooked Media’s VP of Politics; a look at why Serena Williams is the GOAT, and regular updates on the war in Ukraine, something the listeners of the show are regularly requesting in the show’s apple reviews.

The mad scientist for The Ten News is Tracy Leeds Kaplan, who founded Small But Mighty Media, which is a development and production agency focused on creating non-fiction audio and video programs that inform and inspire audiences of all ages. Small But Mighty Media aims to address underserved audiences with bespoke content and tell stories that need to be told. It’s an admirable goal, and she and her team are passionate about achieving it.

With strong production values, great writing, and a finely tuned narrative style for its ages 8–12-year-old target audience, The Ten News doesn’t miss a beat. But it’s the co-hosts that truly excel at connecting with their audience.

Ryan Willard is an award-winning filmmaker and writer based in NYC. A fellow of the Sesame Street Writers’ Room in 2019, wrote for their upcoming animated series, Bea’s Block, and was proud to help bring Ji-Young, Sesame’s first Asian muppet, to the screen. In his free time, Ryan enjoys hosting professional table tennis events, and MC’d the 2021 World Table Tennis Championships.

Pamela Kirkland is an award-winning journalist based in Atlanta. As a field producer for CNN, she’s covered breaking news events around the country, ranging from hurricanes to elections. Before that, Pamela worked for The PBS NewsHour, reporting on stories looking at the opioid crisis, immigration, education, and more. She’s traveled the country covering four presidential campaigns, Congress, and the White House.

The co-hosts have chemistry that seems developed in a lab because it’s so good. Willard can be silly like an eight-year-old child and still deliver relevant information. Kirkland balances journalistic heft with juvenile attitude, which plays perfectly for the audience.

The podcast also has an experienced cadre of correspondents, ranging from a romance novelist to a human rights activist. It’s an eclectic group that talks “kid” like pros.

In today’s culture war society, parents seem hyper-vigilant on what information their children are exposed to. The Ten News is a suitable format and venue for children 8–12 regardless of parents’ political beliefs.

In episode two of season three, here is a summary of the topics covered:

Ten things that you need to know right now. Ryan’s great big list of things that he is grateful for this World Gratitude Day. The world is short on supplies, and even teachers. Laine Farber shares drought discoveries from dinosaurs to big cities. Tessa’s Trivia: do you know which famous chocolate maker was supposed to be on the Titanic? (Hint: His initials are MH.)

Check out The Ten News podcast. Your child will thank you. And you, Mom and Dad, should listen, too. It’s fun and even you can learn.

NOTE: Check out the Q&A with The Ten News co-hosts also on Ear Worthy.

#podcast #children #kids educational

[matan4il]

Buddie 508 meta

I was gonna comment on the beauty of the battlefield boyfriend theme still going so strong, we had so many examples of it in this ep! Moments of silent communication which show how in tune Buddie are, the way one throws out an action plan and the other follows right away (first Buck with how best to get to room 318, then Eddie with figuring out the correct room number), and don’t even get me started on the perfect synchronicity when they’re moving the babies out of the hospital window and down to safety… there’s a whole chain of firefighters there, but the riskier pass is the one from Buck to Eddie and you’d want the most in sync firefighters to handle that one. It’s not a coincidence that it’s Buddie doing it. ~~~

But the truth is we got even more than just the usual ‘battlefield boyfriends’ theme. We also got their brief exchange next to the fire truck, when Eddie is clearly not fine. I love how Buck immediately notices and rushes over, to see what’s wrong and how he can help. I also love that we have a role reversal here. Usually, Eddie is all stoic and repressed, he actively works to push down anything he may feel, but this time, when things seem lost, and that’s clearly triggering thoughts about Chris, he’s struggling. And I love that he didn’t try to hide this from Buck, he was truthful right away, no games played. Buck, who takes everything to heart, has come such a long way since the first time he lost a vic in ep 102, or when he was this close to cross an ethical boundary to save a baby in 101, he’s learned the lesson that Athena and Bobby were trying to teach him back in s1, about where the job ends, and even though he still doesn’t always act on that, when Eddie needs this lesson, Buck is there to embody it for him. Because the thing is, neither one’s primary approach is wrong in itself, it’s all a matter of timing, context and degree. And they can give each other this much needed balance, even if temporarily. When they’re together, we see them getting to be themselves with each other AND bringing to the surface the part of themselves that reflects the other and that their partner needs in the moment. This season, it’s repeatedly been the two of them being there for each other, showing us they truly know, hold and complete each other. They’re everything a ship should be. And it feels like everything we’ve seen so far is a part of a bigger story the show is in the middle of telling. ~~~

This episode’s main theme is commitment, but to the point of willing to face great danger and at the risk of unbearable loss. The commitment of a married couple who choose to exchange again a ring even though one of them might not make it out of surgery; of a kid to his new baby sister, which enables him to do the unthinkable and save her life; it’s Michael and David getting engaged even though they were this close to David dying in the hospital and despite the fact that the best way for them to be together is for Michael to uproot his entire life and move to Haiti; it’s the commitment of the medical staff (Callie, David and his team) to their patients and the unexpected reciprocation on the part of the latter (Rupert); and as always we also see that commitment of our first responders (firefighters and dispatchers alike) now emphasized through the ep’s theme. This kind of commitment isn’t for everyone. It wasn’t for Ali, which is legit. But we discover at the start of the ep David was inspired by being around this, and by the end we learn Michael was, too. I think it says everything that in this context, despite Chim not being back yet, meaning the new partnerships established in 505 are still in place, it’s Buck and Eddie paired together during this call. Because they also have this kind of commitment and understanding between them, and they too get each other’s need to risk everything for the sake of saving complete strangers. ~~~

I made a gifset showing the parallels of Buck watching as Eddie was trapped underground due to an explosion, Eddie watching as Buck was inside a warehouse that exploded, and lastly Michael, about to propose, watching as an explosion engulfs the hospital with David in it. In all three cases, as they watch, they don’t even know whether their partner is even alive anymore. Putting aside the insanity of this show constantly paralleling Buddie with romantic couples and Buddifer with the other families on the show, it’s also insane to me how perfectly these align. Not only is this a parallel of all three men that the show puts in situations where they have to watch as an explosion threatens to tear their partners away from them, the parallel between Buddie and Mavid is reinforced by the fact that in the same ep in which we see Buddie once more practicing their wordless communication skills, we also see Mavid’s proposal and its acceptance communicated with only a fraction of the normally required words. And sure, Bobby gave David a small spoiler, but David could have walked out of the hospital to discover that this unexpected crisis has changed Michael’s mind, or Michael, who didn’t know about Bobby, could have questioned what David’s “Yes” was in response to. Yet, Mavid managed to understand each other perfectly, showing us their foundation and Buddie’s is the same. And if Michael can sum up Mavid’s connection during his actual proposal as simply, “You. It’s you” when looking at his partner, truth is that Buck and Eddie can do the same.

~~~ Thank you so much to the amazing @judsonryder​​, I’m so happy she weaves her magic into this meta weekly! If you like my perspective on Buddie, you can find more of my meta, gifs, humor posts and fics here. Thank you for reading and for any like, comment and of course reblog! A lot goes into these posts and it's wonderful to know they reach people and help. xoxox

#buddie #911meta #buddie meta #911 meta #9-1-1 #evan buck buckley #evan buckley #eddie diaz #edmundo diaz #911 season 5 #buddie gif #buddie gifs #buddieedit #wm #911onabc #911 on abc #911abc #911 abc

[no-pucks-given]

MATTHEW TKACHUK | KEEP QUIET

A/N: There we are again after some lovely writer’s block! Just want to thank @chicagoblackhawkslover96​ for keeping me sane through out this and telling me it will be okay. You’re a lifesaver. Also this imagine wouldn’t have been here without Taylor and her amazing requests, so thank you as well! This one is for you, love. @joshy-anderson17  

Warnings: Oral (female receiving), public sex, unprotected sex, some swear words. 

Summary:  This is pure smut. Confiscated panties, a team dinner, a whole lot of sexual frustration and an empty restroom. You thought you had the upper hand this whole evening, but Matthew is always two steps ahead of you.

Word Count: 5.2K

Requested: Yes.

 Annual team dinner, there are worse ways to spend your Friday evening. You don’t mind them at all, it’s a great opportunity to catch up with the guys and their girls while also enjoying great food and some entertainment. You just got out of the shower when you stumbled on Matthew, who was already dressed up and ready to go. “I’m not late, am I?” you ask him, even though you were sure you had all the time you needed to get ready.

He chuckles, knowing your fixation on being on time, he’s pretty sure you’ve never been late in your life. Never. “Nah, you aren’t. Take your time,” Matthew answers, his eyes locked on your body. He sits down on the bed, making sure he has the best view possible. You playfully roll your eyes at the way he openly gawks at your body, knowing it will rile him up, knowing it will get a reaction out of him. But Matthew stays surprisingly quiet, he simply stares at you unimpressed, an eyebrow raised.

Shrugging off his reaction, or lack of reaction, you continue to get ready, completely forgetting that Matthew is in the room as well. It isn’t until you try to pull on your panties you notice his presence again. His body presses against your back, his fingers brush over your arms, until he reaches your hands. His hands cover yours, gently tugging your underwear back down again. “Matthew, come on,” you whine. “I need to get ready.”

His lips brush over your shoulder, sending goosebumps all over your body. His lips brush against your ear. “You do need to get ready, but you won’t be needing any panties tonight,” he mutters against the shell of your ear, his teeth grazing your earlobe. His words catch you by surprise, although you can’t help the shiver of desire that runs through your body.

“But I do, I can’t go out without panties, Matthew.”

Matthew chuckles from behind you, before picking up your panties and throwing them on the bed. “Should’ve thought about that before you rolled your eyes at me, baby girl. Now go on, get ready, we don’t want to be late,” he says, lightly smacking your ass before he sits back down on the bed, a pleased grin plastered on his face. It doesn’t go unnoticed by you that your panties disappear into the pocket of his jacket, weird.

Just as you finish your makeup Matthew’s voice catches your attention again. “Ready to go?” he asks, coming up behind you. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. You catch his eye in the mirror, nodding your head at him. He smirks at you, his hand sliding from your waist towards your neck. His fingers wrap lightly around your throat, his eyes dark with desire. God, this is going to be a long night. You keep your eyes on Matthew’s, until he tilts your head and presses his lips on yours. “You look fucking amazing, such a shame we actually have to leave the house tonight.”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes, you know he’d rather spend his time here instead of going to a team dinner with guys he sees almost every day. “Come on, Matty. It will be fun,” you say, gently nudging him with your elbow. You tilt your head at him, a mischievous look in his eyes, that cocky smirk you love so much plastered on his face. If there’s one thing you know for sure it’s that Matthew has something up his sleeve tonight.

“Oh, I’m sure it will be fun.”

See? He’s definitely up to something, and if your missing panties are any clue of how tonight will go, you better prepare yourself. His words play over and over in your mind, during the walk to the car, even during the drive to the restaurant. Halfway through the drive you find out exactly why it was so convenient for Matthew to take away your panties, why he was so smug about this whole thing. As usual his hand is on your thigh, a habit, something that happens during every drive. Honestly Matthew has his hand on you 90% of the time, so you aren’t suspicious at all.

Well, you aren’t at first, but when his hand slowly moves up towards the hem of your dress you sure as hell have your suspicions on where this is going. His hand slips under your dress and you can’t help the way you open up your legs for him, giving him more room to work with. He doesn’t move his hand any further, keeping you on edge, unsure of what comes next. His fingers brush over your skin so lightly, barely touching at all, however it leaves behind a need. A need only Matthew can help you with right now. The smug grin on his face tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. 

“All you have to do is ask, baby girl. You know that.”

“Please, Matthew,” you beg, his featherlight touches leaving you wanting more, needing more. 

Matthew, seemingly pleased with your words, trails his hand higher up your thigh, all the while keeping his eyes on the road ahead. His fingertips brush over your core, a gasp leaving your mouth. You see his smirk in the corner of your eyes, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. His fingers slide through your folds, drenching themselves in your wetness. “Always so ready for me, aren’t you?” Matthew muses, toying with your entrance. 

You’ve barely nodded your head at him when he pushes two digits inside of you, engulfing himself in your warmth. His words, his teasing makes you so weak for him, so responsive to his touch. Matthew moves his fingers inside of you, curling them just the right way, his thumb pressing on your clit. All the pent up frustrations from this evening, the sexual tension almost suffocating you, brings you faster and faster to the edge. The situation you’re in, the dress you’re wearing, the thought of other drivers seeing you, only spurs you on to come, fast. 

You can feel your orgasm approaching, so close, so freaking close. So close, when Matthew pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you empty and needy behind. “Too bad we’re already at our destination.” Your eyes shoot to his, the confusion and disappointment clearly written all over your face. Matthew chuckles, taking in your ravishing appearance, before slipping his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean. “Better luck next time, baby,” he says, sending you a wicked wink and opening his door to get out.

He opens your door, holding out his hand for you to grab. “You’re a bastard, you know that, right?” you tell him, although you’re fighting to keep the smile off your face. If this is the game he wants to play? Fine, but boy, he better make sure he’s ready to follow through. 

The evening seems to be going well, just as expected it’s been lovely catching up with the guys and their girls. You find yourself enthralled by the stories Jacob is telling you about Sweden. You’ve always wanted to go there one day, perhaps it’s time to convince Matthew to come with you in the offseason. Jacob shares his favourite memories of the country, places you should definitely visit and food you definitely should stay clear off. 

You aren’t surprised at all to feel Matthew’s hand creep up your thigh during your conversation with Jacob. It isn’t uncommon for him to have his hand on your thigh, on your knee, anywhere on your legs, but you know it’s different this time. The unspoken words, the promises made earlier this evening still float through your mind. This didn’t end in the car, it only started there and you’re planning on finishing it here. Although.. Maybe you’re planning on taking home a bit of this sizzling sexual frustration as well. 

His fingers brush your skin just under the hem of your dress, even though it’s a move you expected him to make it still makes your breathing hitch in your throat. No matter what, no matter where you are, his touch will always leave a burning need behind, especially in a setting like this. There’s a reason the two of you go together like pieces of the same puzzle, it’s like both your mind and body speaks the same language as Matthew’s. Every single cell is in tune with his, it’s almost like they’ve been playing this game longer than the years you’ve known Matthew. It’s like they’ve done this before, maybe in another lifetime. 

When his knuckle brushes over your sensitive skin you remember your task, the promise you made yourself. It’s time to play with Matty, instead of getting played with. You cross your legs, knocking his hand out of the way. The low grumble from Matthew doesn’t slip past you, you try to fight the smile that threatens to break through by the annoyance in his voice. You place your hand on his thigh, almost getting distracted by the muscles flexing underneath your touch. Leaning forward to grab the pepper from further along the table, your breasts swiftly brush his arm. 

The way his body tenses up tells you how aware he is of you, how aware he is of your body this close to him. You can’t help but slide your hand further up his thigh, over the admirable bulge in his pants. Although, who are you trying to kid? This was the plan all along, play with him like he plays with you, until he can’t take any more. His sharp intake of breath, his eyes shooting to yours, the surprise clearly written all over his handsome face. Giving him an innocent smile you gently rub his growing erection through his pants. 

It takes him a minute to switch back to the Matty you’re trying to lure out. His eyes turn to slits, his mouth curving up into that famous smirk. He leans in, while his hand joins yours under the table, pressing down onto his crotch, hard. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, baby.” His voice is nothing more than a rough whisper against the shell of your ear. A challenge, a dare to either quit before it gets out of hand or push through and show him what you’re made of. He should’ve known better, you’re never one to back down from a challenge. You’re one to grab life by the balls, maybe this time literally. 

“Oh, don’t worry, Matty. I’m planning on finishing this,” you say, squeezing his erection through his suit pants again. Matthew tries to hide his groan behind a cough, catching the attention of his teammates around him. “Careful, baby. Don’t want you to choke on something.” As soon as the words leave your mouth you burst out laughing. 

Matthew’s hand finds the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him again. His lips against your ear, his breathing the only thing on your mind, until he finally speaks. “If you don’t watch that pretty mouth, I’ll give you something to choke on, baby girl,” he whispers against your ear. 

With your hand still on his crotch you turn your head to whisper in his ear. Fuck, this isn’t something you say out loud, this definitely isn’t something you talk about in a busy restaurant surrounded by your boyfriend’s teammates. “You want me to watch my mouth or put my mouth to good use, Matty? You know.. All you have to do is ask.” You grin at him as you throw his own words back at him. You sure as hell haven’t forgotten about that stunt he pulled in the car. That was just mean, even for him.

Matthew’s grip on the back of your neck tightens, forcing you to turn your head again. “Apparently you can’t watch your mouth, so I’m going to give you two options. Choose carefully.” His voice is barely a whisper against your ear. Maybe you’ve pushed too far, maybe you should’ve watched your mouth when he asked you to. But what’s the fun in that? You nod your head at him, bracing yourself for the possibility you aren’t going to like any of his options.

“You can either get up and walk that sweet ass of yours into the closest restroom or you can keep that hand on my dick until I can’t take it any longer and fuck you right here on the table for everyone to see. Your choice, baby girl,” he whispers.

Your eyes almost pop out of your head when you hear your choices. Slowly, so slowly you move your head to the side and look him in the eyes. Matthew is looking awfully content with your state of shock, his body relaxed back into the chair, almost lazily. “You wouldn’t dare,” you say softly, trying to keep your voice low enough so the others don’t hear your conversation.

Matthew raises an eyebrow at you in challenge, his signature smirk obviously plastered on his face. “Try me. Fucking try me, y/n.” 

You can’t, you can’t possibly take that dare. You aren’t sure he’d do it, but you also aren’t sure he won’t do it. Is that a risk you’re willing to take? Probably not. The prospect of his teammates and their girls seeing something that intimate doesn’t sound that appealing to you. The first option however turns you on more and more the longer you think about it. You sneak a peek at Matthew, who’s still watching you with the same expression. He know it, he fucking knows how much the idea of him fucking you in the restroom turns you on. You fell for your own game. Well played, Matty. Well played.

“Fine. Fine, asshole,” you mutter, while turning around to face Jacob and excuse yourself. At some point you were having a conversation with him, although you can’t exactly remember what you talked about last. It doesn’t matter anyway, because Jacob simply smiles at you and nods his head, before Matthew picks up the conversation like they were talking all evening. You shake your head at Matthew, he really is something else. His eyes find yours, a dark, promising look behind them. That exact look makes you turn around and find your way to the closest restroom a little faster, excitement rushing through your veins.

You stand in front of the restrooms, trying to decide which one to pick. You should go into the women’s, but what about Matthew? He can’t be there. What the actual hell, you’re going to fuck in the restroom, it probably doesn’t matter whether you do that in the women’s or the men’s restroom. It’s wrong either way. Deciding to wait for Matty outside seems like the better option right now, it won’t take him long to get here. If you know him as well as you think you do, he’s as eager as you are. Maybe even more.

You lock eyes with him the moment he comes into view, the dark, smoldering look still on his face. A face full of promises, dirty fucking promises. “Any of these free?” he asks before he even reaches you. You shrug your shoulders, not knowing whether or not there are still people in there. “Don’t fucking care, need to be inside of you now.” Matthew grabs your hand, pulling you behind him and into the men’s restroom. 

The moment the door closes he’s on you. Pushing you up against the door, his lips crushing yours, his tongue invading your awaiting mouth. You moan against him, you’ve waited on this moment all evening. All evening he was all you could think about, his touch, his lips, his tongue, his cock. “I need you, Matty,” you mumble against his lips. 

A strangled groan leaves his throat, his hands grip the hem of your dress, pulling it up over your ass. “Fuck, baby,” Matthew groans as his hands squeeze your bare cheeks. “Should make you go out without panties more often.” His mouth finds yours again, tongues dancing around each other, hands roaming every inch of skin they can reach. 

His hands move down, hoisting you up by the back of your thighs. Matthew walks over to the counter, sitting you down on top of it. Before you can say anything he drops down onto his knees in front of you, his arms around your thighs as he pulls you to the edge of the counter. He spreads your thighs with his hands, his face lighting up like a kid in a candy store, a man looking at his favourite meal. “You’re definitely not allowed to wear panties anymore, fucking hell,” he groans as he comes face-to-face with your glistening pussy. An evening full of teasing and edging made sure you’re so ready, so fucking ready for him. 

Your hand finds his curls, tugging at the strands. “Matthew, please. Please, just fuck me. I need you,” you moan out the moment his tongue makes contact with your core. You don’t need foreplay, fuck. This whole evening has been full of foreplay. You need him inside of you, you need to feel him buried balls deep inside of you. That’s what you need. 

Matthew chuckles against your core. “Always so impatient, huh? Give me an orgasm and I’ll make sure you get my cock a second later.” His lips latch onto your clit, sucking the bundle of nerves into his mouth. His fingers digging into your thighs to keep you from squirming underneath him. “Better make it quick, baby girl,” he mutters, delving back into eating you out like a starved man. 

His fingers join his mouth, pushing two digits into your drenched entrance. His wicked mouth combined with his skilled fingers drives you absolutely nuts. You’ve been on edge all evening, especially after that denied orgasm in the car. All you need is that last push, that last missing piece of the puzzle to shatter around his fingers and come all over his mouth. The sight of him in front of you on his knees, his blonde curls between your spread thighs is your final straw. You slap your hand over your mouth to keep you from screaming out, a muffled form of his name echoes throughout the restroom, your thighs closing around Matthew’s head, while your hand tangled in his curls keeps him as close as possible.

Before you even have the chance to come down from your high, Matthew pulls you off the counter and turns you around. Your hips hit the counter, his hand pushes your chest down. You’re barely capable of keeping yourself upright, your legs still feeling like jelly after that intense orgasm, thankfully Matthew’s hand on your hip keeps you in place. You have no idea when he had the time to unbuckle his belt and get his cock out, because barely a second later he’s buried inside of you. You moan out at the sensation of him inside of you, finally. 

“This is going to be quick and hard, okay?” Matthew rasps out as he picks up his pace. You almost forgot you’re in the restroom of a busy restaurant, at some point people are going to notice your absence. You nod your head at him, while Matthew fists your hair in one hand, the other one still tightly gripping your hip. “Look at me and fucking keep quiet.”

Your eyes lock on his through the mirror, biting down on your bottom lip to keep you from moaning out. His curls are a mess, even more than usual, his eyes dark with desire. As always his smirk is right there on his lips, although the faster he thrusts his hips, the more his smirk falters. He’s a sight for sore eyes, you’d almost come from just looking at him, almost.  

His thrusts are fast, almost punishing, just as he promised you. The sound of skin on skin slapping reverberates through the restroom. You try, you try so hard to keep quiet, but you can’t. Not with the way he fucks you, fast, deep, rough. It’s too much, all you can do is hold on for dear life while Matthew fucks you. The way he hits all the right spots, stretching you so right. Balancing on the fine line between pain and pleasure, although pleasure definitely seems to be winning here. It’s just right, so right. At this point you don’t even care if someone hears you, you’re too far gone. 

“Keep quiet, don’t want anyone to hear those pretty sounds you make,” Matthew groans from behind you, his hips never faltering in their punishing pace. He tightens his grip on your hair, slightly tugging on the strands to give him something to hold on to while he picks up his pace a notch. 

You’re trying, but it seems like you can’t keep quiet anymore. He’s doing too much to you, his thrust hitting the right places, the places that get a reaction out of you. You’ve never been one to keep quiet, you never had to be quiet before. The one time you need to be, you can’t. “I can’t, I can’t,” you cry out, it’s too much, too fucking much. You hear him curse from behind you before the hand tangled in your hair moves to your face. His large hand clamps over your mouth, keeping the noises you make to an absolute minimum. 

Matthew lets out an appreciative quiet moan at the sight before him. “Better, huh?” He knows you’re too far gone to answer him, and even if you could he still has his hand clamped firmly over your mouth. “Need you to come for me, baby girl. Need you to give me your orgasm,” he groans against your ear. 

He’s so close, so close to his own release, but he won’t allow himself to orgasm before you do. It’s always like that, you come first. No matter what, no matter how many times he denies you throughout the day, you’ll always be the first one to come. It’s something he can’t seem to shake off, not that you’re complaining. Fuck no, the moment you start complaining about orgasm is the moment there’s something wrong. 

The hand that just a second ago held a firm grip on your hip slips between your legs, instantly finding your clit. His fingers circle over the bundle of nerves, your breath hitching behind Matthew’s hand. You feel your orgasm approaching, a tingling feeling at the back of your spine, slowly taking over every single nerve ending. It’s like your on fire, lightning thundering through your veins. “Come on. Come for me.” You’re pretty sure you hear Matthew’s voice somewhere behind you, but you’re not even sure right now. 

So fucking lost in chasing that orgasm, reaching the abyss of wonder. It’s his fingers pinching your clit, a last thrust of his hips in just the right place that has you undone. Crying out his name through a symphony of moans and whimpers. It’s a damn good thing his hand is still over your mouth. Even now, even with his hand clamped shut over your mouth you’re pretty sure people could hear you. You don’t care though, you’ve never felt like this. You’ve never felt this alive. 

Matthew’s orgasm follows right after yours. He can’t take it any longer, not with the way your pussy clamps down on his cock, not with the way you pulse around him, not with the way you’re looking at him through the mirror. You feel the stutter in his rhythm, his breathing erratic. One, two thrusts and he’s done for. His hips stutter against you, burying himself deep inside of you as he blows his load, coating you in his seed. His teeth dig into the soft patch between your neck and shoulder, anything to muffle the sounds he’s making, anything to make that strangled groan leaving his lips more silent. It’s a lost cause, his groan echoes throughout the restroom. 

He drops his head against your shoulder as he tries to catch his breath. “Fucking hell, y/n,” he whispers, slowly dropping his hand from your mouth. “Fucking. Hell. You’re something else.” His hand brushes your hair out of your face, his thumb softly brushing over your cheek. 

You let out a laugh at his praise. You’re something else? No way, he is. “That was intense, Matty,” you say, slightly whimpering as he gently slips out of you. He kisses your shoulder before backing up, giving you room to stand up again. Your legs wobble after two intense orgasms. “We should be heading back, people are going to notice our absence.” 

Matthew nods at your observation, eyes still focused on the mess he made between your legs, the mess that’s slowly dripping down your legs. “Either clean that up or let me get you the fuck out of here,” he groans, rubbing his hand over his face. “You’re looking too good like this, too good to just go back to our table, too good to not take back home right now.” His hand reaches out to grab your face, lips crashing on yours, his tongue roughly making its way into your mouth. 

You moan against his mouth, your hands pushing down your dress again. You’re not going to bother cleaning up the mess he made, the mess you both made. You’ve known Matthew for so long, you know him like the back of your hand. Even though he’s offering to take you back to the group and finish dinner, you know he won’t. Unless you told him to, but you won’t and he knows that, he’s counting on it. It’s like you said before, two pieces of the same puzzle. There’s a reason you work out perfectly together, this is one of them. “Then take me home, Matty. Take me home and show me whatever it is that you’ve got on your mind,” you whisper against his mouth as soon as you break the kiss. 

His smirk is all you need to see to know you’ve been right. He does have more planned for this evening, there’s no way he’s done now. Matthew likes to take his time, likes to make you beg. This barely scratches the surface of everything that’s Matty. You’re in for a long night, you know it and you love it. “Take me home,” you say again, tugging at his messy curls. 

Your hands reach out to zip him back up, it’s almost like nothing happened a few minutes ago. Almost. You turn around to wash your hands when the door to the restroom opens. Your head shoots to the side, eyes locked on the stranger in the door opening. “Uhm, uhh. I’m sorry? I’ll give you a minute,” the stranger mumbles before turning around and closing the door behind him.

You slowly turn around to Matthew, who surprise, surprise wears a smirk on his face. “You didn’t lock the door behind you. You’re telling me anyone could’ve walked in when you were buried balls deep inside of me?” you ask him, pointing a finger at him in accusation. 

Matthew grabs your hand, pulling your forward into his arms. His mouth brushes against your ear. “You’re telling me this didn’t turn you on to no end? You’re telling me the thrill of being caught doesn’t make your pussy wet?” he whispers against your ear. You shudder against him, making Matthew chuckle. It’s all he needed to know. “That’s what I thought, baby girl.”

Shortly after he pulls you out of the restroom and back into the restaurant. You’re trying to act normal, but you’re pretty sure the postorgasm bliss is still clearly written all over your face. Even if it isn’t, your messy hair is a giveaway of what just happened in the restroom. Matthew stops at the end of the table, clearing his throat. “Sorry guys, I’m taking y/n home. She isn’t feeling very well, might be something in the food here,” he says, throwing his arm over your shoulders and pulling you close. You give them all a small smile, nodding at Matthew’s words.

There sounds a bunch of ‘get well soon’ and ‘see you later’ around the table, before you say your own goodbyes, telling them to enjoy the rest of their evening. However Johnny smirks before he leans forward and catches your attention. “Sure sounded like she had a rough time in there,” he says, the smirk on his face turning into a grin when he hears your groan of embarrassment.

Matthew is sharper than you thought he would’ve been. “Shut the fuck up, Johnny,” he says, smacking his friend on the back of his head. “Eat your food, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Johnny’s laugh sounds throughout the restaurant as you both walk away. You can’t help turning around underneath Matthew’s arm and flipping Johnny the bird, which only makes him laugh harder.

You intertwine your fingers with his, squeezing them tightly. “I’m curious though,” you start, catching Matthew’s attention. His eyebrows raise in question, a low encouraging sound leaving his throat. "Why did you take my panties before we left?" You can't help but wonder why he did that. It doesn't make sense to you at all. Is it some kind of reminder that you weren't wearing any panties? You're pretty sure he did not need a reminder for that.

“He sure has some nerve,” you mumble the moment you step outside and  into the cold night. “It wasn’t that obvious, right?” You chuckle at your own question, because yeah it was.

“Don’t worry, babe. I’ll make sure he regrets ever making that comment,” Matthew chuckles, his knuckles brushing over your cheek. You roll your eyes at him, sometimes he’s such a caveman. Although the fact that he’ll do that for you warms your heart.

Matthew chuckles, pulling you close to his side as you make your way over to the car. "To stuff them in your pretty mouth if you didn't shut the fuck up." Matthew shrugs his shoulders, while your head snaps to him, eyes wide in shock. Your gasp makes him laugh out loud, squeezing you even tighter against his side. "But looking back my hand did the job as well. We'll keep your panties for another time." 

"You're absolutely crazy, Matty. Absolutely crazy," you laugh, shaking your head softly at your boyfriend. He's something else, that's for sure. But never, never would you trade him for someone who’s less crazy. Normal is boring, normal is overrated. Wicked, wicked is the way you want it, wicked is the way you love it. 

"But you love it, don't you, baby girl?"

"That I do, that I do, Matty," you laugh again, pulling him towards the car by his hand. 

The night has only just begun.

#matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk smut #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nhl fic #hockey fic #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #nhl smut #hockey smut #matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk fanfiction #calgary flames #hockey writing #nhl writing #matthew tkachuk x reader

[inkyvendingmachine]

It’s Not Breaking and Entering if You Don’t Break Anything Season 3, Episode 2

💀 Call of Cthulhu: Haunted Hijinx Masterpost 💀 🎶 Call of Cthulhu Season Three Masterpost 🎶

Warning: This campaign is an edited version of Call of Cthulhu: Song and Dance scenario from the Tales of the Crescent City book. While a lot has been changed, there IS spoilers for it throughout these posts. 

Says I am no longer busy immediately becomes more busy. I need to stop renting myself out.

HI HELLOW. THIS IS A VERY LATE POSTING BC I HAD BEEN STRUGGLING TO FIND THE TIME TO WRITE IT AND EVENTUALLY I JUST GOT SHAZZ TO WRITE IT FOR ME. SO THIS ONE IS SHAZZ WRITTEN. THANK YOU AAAA**

ART CHANGES THIS SEASON!! @inkdemonapologist​ and I are collabing on all the art for these summery posts!! Shazz does lines, and I compose and colour the pieces.

** one paragraph edited by me bc I need to add more emotion to Joey’s story IT NEEDS TO MATCH HIM OK,,

After everyone but Henry had completely lost all ability to perform, the boys had gathered at Sammy’s apartment, found somewhere to sit that wasn’t taken up by all his banjos and other instruments, and tried to figure out what was going on. Some of the golden writing Henry’s seen mentioned things like “the keys are in the trash” and “maybe Wally ate it,” which seem weirdly relevant to the recent disappearing keys and cake, so they’d started comparing notes.

After hearing Joey speak, already-mentally-compromised Sammy freaks out and demands to know what’s wrong with his voice -- a New Jersey accent isn’t that weird, but it’s also NOT Joey’s voice. Joey doesn’t know, and he doesn’t want others to know this is happening either. He’s worked hard to build the person he is and this ISN’T him!! It’d be nice if at least some of the people here would understand that... Sammy’s upset, can’t play anything to calm down, and finally asks Jack to try to play something on one of his instruments -- Jack’s unsure, but makes the attempt for Sammy’s sake… and finds all of his memory of how to play is Gone.

Sammy tries the radio next, still looking for music; he’s able to find something pre-recorded, but it sounds strange in a way he and Jack can’t put their finger on. Joey swipes the radio to look for news, but finds a game instead, and gets distracted wondering if the sportscasters are having the same problem with their accent that he is -- one of them sounds ROUGH, and not like a radio personality should at all, and the other sounds fine, but Joey notes that the one that sounds fine is not terribly good at it.

Henry, of course, is still fine. He can draw and hum a tune and everything.

The news reiterates what they already know -- performers, actors, musicians, dancers are all falling part, having dangerously rash reactions to the sudden utter loss of their talent. It even seems to be reaching outside NYC. While they’re waiting (Joey doesn’t want to be seen in JDS during work hours in his current state), Jack also tries to call Pete’s office in New Orleans… only to find he’s on a trip out of state. Oh yeah! Joey remembers he invited Peter Sunstram to the premier of the new cartoon; he’s probably here in New York at the hotel Joey recommended! Being dragged into more supernatural things!! GREAT,,,

They finally head to the Studio an hour or two before midnight -- Wally and Tom are doing after-hours work on the pipes, but it’s mostly empty. Investigations reveal:

A “Peter Sunstram” has been trying to reach Jack at work. Oh geez.

Nothing has gotten done in the Music Department at all and music is now a day behind. Sammy is distraught.

Something definitely got stolen from the magic notes in Joey’s office.

It’s specifically his notes on trying to summon that one spirit that helped them all in Haiti. Summoning a spirit COULD have a wide-reaching effect like this if you did it wrong...

Henry finds “HELP ME” written in invisible gold in one of the recording booths. THATS PROBABLY FINE

Susie isn’t home when they try to call her. Sammy keeps trying to call until the neighbours answer to tell him to cut it out, and mention Susie’s probably still out with “her friend with the mercedes” -- they DO remember mention in the paper of three ladies passed out in a mercedes, near the same hospital Joey was taken to… hmmmm...

Joey can still hum a tune!! This seems to calm Sammy down so he keeps doing it... at least he can do one thing right at this point...

Bendy is also here, has been real worried about everyone, and uh, hang on, did you say stuff was stolen? Someone broke in? That’s weird, he can watch through all the cutouts, he should’ve seen that… though he DOES seem to recall a woman coming into the studio the evening after the investor’s tour, and doing… something to one of the Bendy cutouts… and then he fell asleep? It just… hadn’t seemed important to bring up until now……….. The others are immediately suspicious of Allison, since she did this exact kind of weirdness before -- she’s interested in magic, knew about the cutouts, did whatever magic made Sammy change his mind -- and Sammy snaps that his decision has nothing to do with whatever they’re talking about. She’s a good singer, that’s all, and Joey needs to stay out of the Music Department’s business.

Speaking of perfectly trustworthy people, Sammy suggests talking to the Prophet. Maybe he knows what’s going on… he’d written some weird prophecies about AN ANGEL WHOSE SONGS WILL BREAK YOUR WILL on the walls before all this started, and all his cryptic warnings about New Orleans came true. Uneasy but agreeing, Joey gives them a tiny bit of ink, and Jack and Henry get Bendy to lock them into a storage room with Sammy so they can question his other self.

Joey, meanwhile, hides out in his office when Wally comes by -- Joey tries to shoo him away without saying anything, until he sees Wally’s carrying some kinda half-burned eldritch symbol. He reluctantly runs to catch him, very carefully making sure to say ONLY A COUPLE WORDS AT A TIME so Wally can’t catch the accent, and sort-of thanks him for his good work before taking the symbol to study.

Prophet Sammy is fairly cooperative, actually. He too feels this great loss, which he describes as “the breath before the song,” and keeps reiterating that the Angel will come to power and has to be stopped. They ask about Allison, and the Prophet can’t remember anything special about her. He also asks for paper to leave a note to his other self, reiterating his warnings that something more is coming and urging the Shepherd not to be distracted--

Wait. The Prophet is humming to himself as he writes. Actually, uh, Jack is suddenly having a lot of really good, lyrical ideas?? Joey also feels great, a burst of creative energy, he feels ready to spin up a great tale and maybe even dance??? He does a practice Inspiring Speech and feels back to his old self again! Jack scribbles down some of these ideas he’s having, humming along with them, and honestly feels more creative than ever? It just hit midnight, and both boys feel their sanity restored. Prophet resists, emphatically repeating “don’t get distracted” several more times on his note to Sammy, insisting to the others that after the calm, the storm will come. 

Bendy runs off to check on Joey, who doesn’t… quite trust this. He checks the spell that ties all the employees’ souls together to make them work more efficiently, and that’s not doing anything special. There’s no change when he steps outside the walls of JDS. They don’t know what’s CAUSING it! He and Bendy return to talk to the others -- Prophet Sammy is NOT thrilled to see “the Traitor” is back, but Joey proposes a truce: they focus on unravelling THIS issue for now, and they can go back to arguing over the stone after this is dealt with. After some discussion, it’s agreed that Prophet can run around as long as he’s careful, and as long as he lets Sammy wake up to get a say in things, and Prophet agrees to the truce.

Investigation of the weird symbol Wally found makes it go up in flames and nearly catches the storage room on fire reveals it to be the sort of glyph you might use to, say, put an eldritch creature to sleep, and it burns up when activated. They try to call Peter next -- he’s checked in, but not answering the phone, probably asleep -- and then set out for Susie’s apartment. Sammy wakes up on the way there, full of musical ideas and excitedly asking the others if they fixed it??? No, Joey says, and he’s wary of this new creativity that might be snatched from them at any moment -- after all, Prophet said this was the calm before the storm.

Susie doesn’t answer the door, so Joey just immediately pulls out his lockpicks and starts breaking in, AS ONE DOES,,, Everyone else is nervous but goes along with this, and though it looks like she might’ve left in a hurry, all they find of interest is an audiolog: it’s Susie, worrying that things seem to be falling apart, but maybe it’s not weird to have this connection to Alice, when Henry and Joey seem so connected to Bendy, and maybe her friend Nicky (???) is right and sometimes you have to play to win, and maybe there IS a way to fix this!! CONCERNING…..

Henry looks over the place with his magic vision and finds a golden “you missed this” message over the trash can. He and Joey both dive for it and end up crashing into each other, while Sammy is distracted that Jack, uh, is pocketing the audiolog???? That’s Susie’s,,, what are you doing???? Jack sheepishly mumbles something about how it might be safer with them. Henry finally does dig through the trash while Joey holds his head and recovers -- in it he finds receipts for Susie’s favourite bakery, and…. Wally’s missing keys.

Sammy is even more upset. He tries to take the audiolog back from Jack, and Jack freaks out and yells, determined to keep hold of it. Sammy confusedly backs off, but now all of them are realising that they’re making an awful lot of noise for people who are breaking into an apartment in the middle of the night and they should probably get going--

Jack opens the door and finds a couple neighbours about to march in and see what’s going on.

Joey steps in to explain that they were just friends of Susie, checking in after all the commotion to make sure she was okay, and Henry holds up the keys he just found to claim she gave they were given a key, but when the neighbour presses for who they are, Joey goes weirdly quiet. Instead Sammy steps in to identify himself as the music director and her friend. OHHHHH, okay, you’re from work! Well, you guys better be treating her right!! Sammy….. does not mention that he’s been seriously considering replacing her.

Anyway THE NEIGHBOURS DONT CALL THE POLICE!!! GOOD JOB BREAKING AND ENTERING, EVERYONE!! It’s now past 2am and everyone’s very tired and maybe they should all just go straight home. Sammy doesn’t want to sleep alone after how last night went, so he and Joey both ask Henry to just drop them off at Jack’s place. Though really, despite how tired they all are… no one but Henry feels like sleeping… they’re all kind of eager to get back to work, creating, playing music, brainstorming stories… 

Jack’s cat, Beans, doesn’t respond to the door opening like she usually would, though when Jack goes looking for her, he finds her all curled up asleep on the lap of an unexpected guest -- Peter Sunstram.

[Next Episode]

[First Episode]

#thank u again shazz for writting this up for me wahh #call of cthulu: haunted hijinx #sammy lawrence #jack fain #henry stein #joey drew #bendy the lurker #beans the cat #peter sunstram #batim #Bendy and the Ink Machine

[writerofthecourt]

reciprocal

pairing: sakusa kiyoomi x reader

summary: for the past few days, the injuries on sakusa’s body couldn’t just be attributed to his soulmate’s clumsiness anymore. it was up to him to figure out the truth of the matter

warning: some references to bullying, some blood and injury

a/n: if this story seems familiar to anyone, it’s because i had a quotev account back in the day that used this same premise with different haikyuu character

Bruises and scrapes were a common sight that littered Sakusa’s body. With a soulmate such as yourself, it was no surprise to anyone that Itachiyama’s ace was usually painted black and blue from his injuries.

Soulmate bonds were both a blessing and a curse. To be so intimately connected to someone to the point of sharing and manifesting their pain was the tragic beauty of having a soulmate. Some people found this to be romantic, while others found it to be a liability. For Sakusa, it was more of a nuisance than anything, considering your unique ability to be so undeniably clumsy.

For the past few days, the injuries on Sakusa’s body were becoming much more frequent and annoying, especially since they were starting to become a hindrance during volleyball practice. When he had asked you about this issue, you had just smiled and pretended to be clueless. His worrying only lessened once you had repeatedly assured him that you were fine and sent him off to practice with a peck on the cheek.

Of course, everything would have been fine if it wasn’t for the pain now igniting from his right shoulder. The pain was so great that Sakusa felt his knees hit the floor, his hand clutching the spot where the pain was radiating from. Practice immediately halted as his teammates gathered around in worry.

Komori was the first one to reach him as he kneeled next to the ace. “Are you all right, Sakusa?”

“I’m fine,” Sakusa managed to say, though that was a complete lie. His shoulder felt like it had been set ablaze, and the wince on his face wasn’t convincing anyone.

“Maybe you should sit out for the rest of practice, Sakusa,” Iizuna calmly suggested.

“I said I’m fine. Let’s just get back to practice.”

Reaching out for Komori’s hand, Sakusa hoisted himself back to his feet and returned to his place on the court. Soon enough, everyone else began to follow his lead.

“I wonder what that was all about,” Sakusa heard his captain mumble.

“[Y/N]-chan probably fell or something,” Komori tried to rationalize before noticing the confused look on Iizuna’s face. “Oh, [Y/N]-chan is Sakusa’s soulmate, and she’s super clumsy. Don’t worry, this is normal for them…I think.”

“If you say so…but make sure Sakusa checks up on his soulmate. Just in case.”

Sakusa couldn’t help but scoff as he tuned out the rest of Komori and Iizuna’s conversation. He didn’t need to be told to check up on you, he was already planning to have a ‘little’ talk with you sometime tomorrow, and he was expecting answers.

Returning his attention back to practice, Sakusa tried to focus on his spikes and not the wave of concern that washed over him when his mind drifted off to the thought of you.

At the beginning of lunch the very next day, Sakusa promptly left his seat and made his way down the hall to your classroom. Loudly sliding the door open, a few students jumped in surprise and fear as Sakusa glared into the room, searching for his target. Spotting you at your desk, he quickly marched in and took a hold of your wrist, dragging you away to a remote corner of the hallway.

“Kiyoomi, you’re hurting me!” you said as he trapped you against the wall. Realizing that the pain was beginning to manifest on his own wrist, Sakusa immediately let go of your arm, but his glare stayed ever present.

“What happened?” he demanded more than asked.

“I-I don’t know what you mean.”

Not wanting to play this game, Sakusa brought up his hands and started to undo the first few buttons of your uniform top without a single word.

“Kiyoomi!” you whispered indignantly as your face began to heat up in embarrassment.

Ignoring your protests, Sakusa pulled the sleeve of your shirt down to reveal your right shoulder. His eyes widened in shock before anger overtook his pretty features. Your skin, once beautiful and perfect, was now decorated with a dark purple bruise. He had seen the same discolouration on his own shoulder earlier that morning when he was getting dressed, but he didn’t want to believe it.

He raised a hand to gently brush his fingers against the injury, but he immediately retreated once he saw your face contort in slight pain.

“I guess there was really no point in trying to hide it, huh?” he heard you say.

“What happened?” Sakusa repeated in a lighter tone this time, now looking at you with gentle concern.

Sakusa saw something spiral within your eyes before you diverted your gaze, suddenly finding the floor to be much more interesting. He lowered his hand and laced his fingers with yours. If not for the current situation, he would have mused about how perfectly your hand seemed to fit in his.

“[Y/N], tell me what happened.”

“I-I bumped my shoulder against a shelf while cleaning up my room yesterday,” you mumbled as you started to play with your sleeves, a habit of yours whenever you lied.

“You don’t get a bruise this big just by bumping into something,” he reasoned with a frown.

“It just happened, okay?” you snapped quickly.

“I don’t see why you just won’t tell me!” Sakusa retorted angrily, now matching your tone. “You’re supposed to-”

“Kiyoomi!” you shouted, and Sakusa felt himself slightly taken aback with shock. “Just trust me, okay? I can handle this myself. I don’t want to keep relying on you for everything, so just trust me!”

“…Fine,” Sakusa conceded after a moment of silence.

Feeling agitated and defeated, Sakusa backed away from the wall before letting out a frustrated sigh. As he began to walk away, he suddenly felt something knock itself into his back. Your arms locked around his stomach as you leaned your head against his back.

“Thank you,” you whispered. “Thank you for trusting me, Kiyoomi.”

Turning around to give you a proper hug, Sakusa securely wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on top of your head, not at all minding the possible germs that came from this interaction. You were always worth it.

“You really are a lot of trouble, you know that?” Sakusa sighed while rubbing circles on the small of your back.

“I love you too,” you giggled.

Using the tip of your toes to reach him, you pulled down Sakusa’s mask and gave your soulmate a quick farewell kiss. After fixing his mask and your shirt, you sent Sakusa a small smile and wave before walking off to class. On the way back to his own classroom, Sakusa couldn’t help but wonder if he had made the right decision.

“No,” Sakusa tried to convince himself. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

Sakusa hated days when you had cleaning duties. It meant that you couldn’t walk with him to practice. His schedule was always busy, so Sakusa tried to spend as much time with you as possible, even if it was something as simple as holding your hand while walking to volleyball practice.

“And then he said, ‘What will you have after 500 years?’ And Mark was like—you aren’t even listening to me, are you?” Komori asked with an exasperated sigh, finally noticing that Sakusa’s attention was elsewhere.

“I can’t find my math notebook,” Sakusa replied plainly, still focused on rifling through his bag.

Komori paused for a moment before snapping his fingers in realization. “Didn’t you lend it to [Y/N]-chan at lunch today?”

Sakusa’s eyes lifted from his bag when he realized he had lent you his notebook. It wasn’t in his character to let anyone borrow his belongings, so whenever he did lend you something, it usually escaped his memory.

Sakusa muttered a low curse. “I’ll be back in five minutes.”

Komori only grinned in amusement before walking off to the gym on his own. “All right, I’ll see you soon.”

Nodding his head, Sakusa turned back towards the school. If he had to guess, you would have to be done cleaning up the classroom by now, meaning that he’d have to hurry if he wanted to catch you in time.

Hurrying down the halls and up the stairs, Sakusa soon found himself turning the corner that led towards the second year classrooms. Although there was no one in sight, Sakusa picked up on the quiet murmur of some voices, along with girls’ laughter. He thought nothing of it until a large crash captured his attention, and everything turned dead silent. At that moment, Sakusa felt the air being knocked out of his lungs as pain jolted throughout his body, and he almost staggered off his feet to the ground.

That could only mean one thing.

Running to the classroom, Sakusa saw a sight that had his blood boiling like never before, and he felt his mind go numb. He didn’t even notice how his nails were slightly drawing blood, as he only felt rage at that moment.

You were lying on the floor, blood pouring from the cut on your head that you had probably received from being pushed against the desks. Three girls surrounded your unconscious body, looking around frantically and panicking at the turn of events.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Sakusa managed to shout out.

“S-Sakusa-san!” one of the girls jumped. “W-we were just playing around, honestly! We never meant for this to happen!”

“I’m not in the mood for your excuses,” he said before his expression turned dark. “Leave, now.”

In an instance, the girls were gone, shivering in fright as they ran off. Sakusa felt himself calm down a bit after releasing a shaky breath, but he soon felt his rage reignite when he saw that the wound on your head was still bleeding profusely.

Kneeling next to your body, Sakusa hoisted you up and began his trip to the nurse’s office. In the middle of his maneuvering, you had quietly woken up and reached for his forehead where blood was spilling from the same wound.

“Kiyoomi, you’re bleeding…”

“And why do you think that is?!” Sakusa snapped at the mention of your matching wounds.

Ignoring his comment, you chose to ask where you were going.

“The nurse’s office to fix your idiotic mistake,” he replied harshly.

After arriving at the office, the nurse gave you and Sakusa a questioning look, but she said nothing as she swiftly wrapped and bandaged your injuries. She soon left for a faculty meeting, leaving you at the mercy of a very angry soulmate.

You sat against the headboard of the office’s medical bed, while Sakusa stood across from you with his arms crossed and a glare on his face. His mask was no longer present, having been abandoned, as it had been contaminated by the blood of his injury.

“So,” you began. “Lovely weather we’re having…”

“That’s not funny, [Y/N]. Now, start explaining.”

“All right, all right,” you sighed. “I guess it started a few days ago. At first, they were small favours, like buying them a few drinks. Then the favours became more demanding…I tried to tell them today that I wasn’t going to be their little servant anymore, but you know how that turned out…”

“So the bruise…?” Sakusa asked inquisitively.

“Yes, it was them,” you answered quietly.

You said nothing as Sakusa continued to frown before he eventually asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because,” you started. “I knew that you would worry. You’re already so busy with school and volleyball, I didn’t want to add to your list of worries…”

“…You really are an idiot,” Sakusa mumbled before running a hand through his hair. He soon moved to sit next to you on the bed and took a hold of your hands in his. “I’m only going to say this once, so you better listen carefully. We’re soulmates for a reason. We’re supposed to be there for each other. Whenever you have a problem, we’re supposed to solve it together.

“I know that I don’t always act like it, but I care about you, a lot. So just like how I can trust you, you need to know that it’s all right to trust me. You can always depend on me to be there for you.”

When he was done with his rant, Sakusa felt his cheeks lightly flush red as he saw your blank expression. He hoped that he didn’t say too much.

“All right, Kiyoomi,” you finally said, a smile beginning to appear on your face. “No more secrets.”

Smirking in approval, Sakusa leaned in and lifted a hand to tilt your pretty face so that you were staring directly into his eyes. His voice was low and seductive as his thumb lightly brushed against the corner of your mouth.

“Good. Because the next time you keep a secret from me, I’m going to have to punish you.”

#sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu reader insert #soulmate au #think sakusa think

[blessednereid]

Pity the Living

Daniel Sharman x Reader Series

A/N: The Much Requested, and By Requested, I mean @rogershoe wanted me to write this, MY DANIEL SHARMAN FANFICTION!!!!!! The character that Y/N plays is based on my OC for FTWD and is not an actual character in FTWD. Basic Premise of the setting for this chapter is that they're in high-school/ secondary school. But for the majority of the story(minus flashbacks) it's set in 2016/17 when s3 of FTWD was filmed.

Story Summary: When (Y/N) (L/N) reunites with a high-school friend on the set of the job she's been working on for the past 2-3 years, not only is she excited to work with the guy who inspired her to go into acting, but to hear about what he's done since she's seen him. But the more they talk, the more she realizes, this reunion is not going the way she had planned.

CW: Cursing? brief mention of alcohol, anxiety, mentions of food, fake dagger, fake blood, bets,

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Career Day

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Most of the students around you were chorusing to the tune of your school anthem, but not you. You had heard the melody and sung it almost a million times. Whether you were exaggerating or not, not even you knew. Instead, you were whispering and laughing with one of your best friends, Daniel Sharman.

You met Daniel when you first came to the school. You didn't know many people. You didn't even know yourself in this place. It was a completely foreign experience, but he stuck by your side and showed you around.

Since then, you had made friends, joined the swim team, learned your way around the school without ending up in the boys' restrooms instead of the girls' ones. Despite not needing Daniel to show you around anymore, he still provided plenty of comedic support and pick-me-ups and was a great mate all around.

Your teacher had just finished introducing all the parents who were presenting at career day. The assignment being after the presentations were finished, you were supposed to think about what you wanted to be in the future. You had no idea what you wanted to be. But of course… Daniel did.

"An actor."

"An actor?" he nodded. "Like Macbeth?"

"No, Macbeth is a character. An actor is a person who plays the character."

"Why an actor?"

"Dunno. Just seems right."

You frowned. "Huh, that's nice. Knowing what you want to be."

"You could always try acting. It's worth a shot."

"Hah, if I ever tried acting, it would probably be when I'm old, senile, and look like Betty White."

"Oh, come on. You're a great actress!"

"What's that supposed to mean, Sharman?" you gasped.

"Just that you tell fibs and stories as if they were the truth. That's all acting is."

"I DO NOT!"

"How did you convince your mum that your dog jumped onto the table and ate the cake without making any noise last weekend, then?" You opened your mouth to speak before closing it.

"Cat got your tongue?" he teased.

"Shut up, Sharman."

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L/N Residence

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You and Daniel were both swimming in the pool in your backyard when Daniel asked you the question.

"Did you think about it?"

Still floating, you asked, "About what?"

"Acting."

You laughed incredulously. "You were serious?"

"Of course I was." He swam closer to you and pulled your leg down, making you flop around and splash water.

"WHAT THE HELL!"

"Was just trying to get your attention," he remarked innocently.

You coughed. "You had it."

"Picture this," he waved you off. "Us, on the red carpet-"

"Who's red carpet?"

"Does it matter? We'll be each other's dates anyways."

"Why is that?" you asked.

"Because we're best friends."

"What if one of us has a boyfriend or girlfriend?"

He shrugged. "Ok, whatever. We're on the red carpet separately. It's both of ours red carpet-"

"So, does that mean we're in a movie together?"

"Yes, Y/N," he muttered exasperatedly.

"But that's impossible?"

"Why do you say that?"

You leaned closer to his ear. "BECAUSE I'M NOT BECOMING AN ACTOR."

He jumped away from you, proceeding to splash you with water.

"Mark my words. I know talent when I see it."

You sighed. "Could this just be you not wanting to be lonely in the acting world?"

He jutted his lip and spoke in a whiny voice. "Maybe…"

You laughed before splashing a giant wave of water at him. While he still had water in his eyes, you dove under and pulled him down.

He flailed around before his head popped up, and he calmed down.

"WHAT THE HELL!"

"PAYBACK, SHARMAN!"

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Announcement

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The intercom gave a heavy buzz, and static-y noises ran amok over the building before a voice actually came through the speakers.

"Hello, Teachers, Students, and Faculty. Welcome back to school. We hope that you all enjoyed your holidays and got the rest you needed to pay attention in class today," the last part was passive. Your principal gave more announcements for clubs and sports around the school, such as upcoming games or reminders for students to buy the school yearbook.

You were nodding along interested, or looking for interest really when something caught your best friend's attention.

"The school will also be hosting its first-ever play, Romeo and Juliet. Interested people should report to the music room before the end of the week to receive information."

You saw Daniel's eyes widen only moments before he spoke up. "Hey," he waved at you. "You should audition!"

"Daniel, are you insane?"

He chuckled, "No, but I think you'd like it."

You tried arguing, but he wasn't taking no for an answer. "You're the one who said you didn't know what you wanted to do after you graduated. Doing this cannot hurt."

"Yeah, it can't hurt until I trip on my costumes and break my neck!"

"That rarely ever happens," he said exasperatedly. "Ok, how about this? You audition, and if you end up getting a role and actually doing the play, I'll give you fifty pounds."

You squinted. "Do you even have fifty pounds to give me?"

"Do you even have to ask," he feigned shock in the accusation? You gave a sour face before he truthfully answered. "Fine, I don't have it now. But I will by the time the play comes around."

"What do I get just for auditioning?"

"I'll convince my mum to make that cake you like."

"Fine."

"BUT!" he exclaimed. "You have to audition for Juliet."

"You're kidding?"

He laughed. "No, I'm not. You have to audition for Juliet."

"I hate you," you mumbled before sighing a whispered 'fine.'

He gave a toothy smile. "Then we have a deal."

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Auditions

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You reluctantly walked onto the stage, Daniel's widening grin so visible in the audience. He said that he only put his name on the audition sheet so he could watch the auditions. He would've already been gone by the time it was his turn.

"Hello, My name is Y/n L/n, and I am auditioning for Juliet," your lips pressing into a straight line after saying the sentence.

You stammered through your first few lines. "Sh-Shall I speak ill of him— that is my husband?" You said with a laugh.

"Ah," you paused and clicked your tongue. "Poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name… When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it?"

You said your following line in an accusatory manner. "But wherefore, villain... didst thou kill my cousin?" you said, though your voice squealed trying to pronounce 'didst.' "That villain cousin would have killed my husband."

"Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring!" Your voice rose and fell several octaves. "Your tributary drops belong to woe, Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy." Fake tears spring to your eyes, your voice cracked, and you began slowly falling against an invisible wall.

You looked down at your paper for what to say next. "My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain; And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband. All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then?" You wiped your cheeks dramatically.

"Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death, That murd'red me. I would forget it fain;" your lips quivered, and you sucked in deep, heaving breaths before speaking your line.

"But O, it presses to my memory. Like damnèd guilty deeds to sinners' minds! 'Tybalt is dead, and Romeo--banishèd!" You shouted.

You stood back up in a startling jump, and with a proud smile, you said triumphantly, "And Scene!"

The directors and some students in the audience, especially Daniel, gave a round of applause before the director dismissed you.

You took the steps to the stage and sat next to Daniel as the director called the next student to audition.

"You were amazing! The director might as well have given you the role right then and there."

You laughed, "Hang on, charmer. There were a bunch of Juliet's who literally said that entire thing so… fluently. I stammered through the whole thing."

"But you showed more emotion than anyone else. You only had a week to prepare. The actual show will be like child's play."

"They want people who can memorize and recite. The emotion can be added later, but it's worth nothing if they forget their lines."

"There is such a thing called improvising for a reason," he reassured.

"Who in their right, bloody minds wants to improvise Shakespeare?"

He turned his head and chuckled before waving a five-pound note in front of your face. "Here, I got to go before they call me, but you earned this at least."

"Five pounds for being forced to audition for a stupid play so you can prove a point? Wow, you must really fancy me, huh, Sharman?" you said sarcastically.

"Goodbye, L/n," he whispered before sneaking out the back door of the auditorium.

"Alright, next up. Daniel Sharman!" The director shouted your friend's name a few more times before giving up.

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Headmasters Office

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A week after your audition, you were called to the headmasters' office. Thus is the cause of the curious looks from your classmates. Oohs and Aahs flooded your ears as you grabbed your bag and headed out the door to the front of the school.

When you got to the front of the building and went into the headmasters' office, you saw the Theatre director, Ms Parker, standing behind the desk. "Headmaster Leo allowed me to use his office to do this. Isn't that cool?"

Ms Parker was one of the younger teachers in school. She was twenty-four, and this was her first year teaching after receiving her bachelor's degree in education and a master's degree in music production. A fact she could astoundingly ramble about for fifteen minutes. As proven at the auditions.

"I didn't want to call you to the theatre room. That would be too predictable, correct?" You'd come to realize she was a very eccentric woman. "I have called you in here to inform you that you have been selected to perform in this year's play of Romeo and Juliet."

A wave of shock coursed through your body, and you were sure it reflected on your face. "Are you sure?"

"Darling, I'm positive!- your audition was totally spectacular! So brilliant-in fact- that I am completely sure in my choice to make you our female lead- Juliet!"

"What!" Your eyes widened into a blank stare. Your thoughts were running rampant in your mind. You thought that performing on the stage would be a breeze when you weren't the lead.

"Ms Parker, I didn't actually want the part of Juliet! It's just that my friend dared me to audition for Juliet! Is there no way I can get a smaller part? I'm no Juliet. The show would be ruined," you rambled.

The directors' facial expressions softened, "Darling, you are the only choice. None of the other people who auditioned can even compare to the amount of passion you produced in that audition. I am determined to have you as our Juliet."

You whimpered out an "Ok." Professors had a strange way of convincing you to do extra credit assignments or things that aren't necessary.

"We have a chemistry read for you and a few of our other choices for Romeo after school today. Do you need to contact a parent to let them know where you'll be?"

"Uh, yes, please."

After you made your call, you walked back to your classroom with shaky hands. The class period was almost over, but you had to tell Daniel that you had gotten a part in the show. Not just any part- THE PART!

You shuffled into the classroom reluctantly. All eyes were on you as every student had assumed you'd been in trouble. Either suspended, expelled, or told your parents were going to have a sit-down with the headmaster.

You took your seat next to Daniel before taking out a piece of paper and writing out a note, encompassing the words, "I got the part!"

You slid the sheet discreetly onto his desk. When he read it, his eyes widened, and he quietly moved his hands toward yours, beckoning for a high five.

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First Rehearsal

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After the chemistry read, the role of Romeo was given to a kid named James Mercer-Allen got the part. Though it was more because the directors were starting to become tired.

The next day was the first rehearsal. Swimming season was last semester, so there was no clash in schedules with the play.

"Alright, this rehearsal is to get acquainted with the stage, your fellow actors, and directors," she insisted. "Now, let's introduce ourselves. Can our Romeo please stand up?"

James stood up and gave a brief introduction. You were called on next. You stated your name, "I was on the swim team last semester, and I'm in my thirteenth year. I hope I can do this role justice."

More students stood up to introduce themselves. The entire process took more than thirty minutes.

The next thing to happen was that the rest of the students were called to recite lines for various roles. The only parts that had been cast preliminarily were Romeo and Juliet.

You and James had sat on the wooden stools unless there was a scene going on that needed Romeo and/or Juliet.

By the end of the first rehearsal, the majority of the speaking roles were cast. You went home exhausted but not expecting the conversation that waited for you.

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The Talk

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"We're moving?" you shouted at your parents from your seat across from them in the sitting room. "What do you mean we're moving."

"Honey, your dad got a job in the states, so we have to move," your mother argued.

"But what about school? No school will take me in the middle of the year, and it's my last year of secondary school. I don't want to spend the rest of my last year knowing nobody."

Your dad, the man of the hour, spoke up. "Dear, we're moving at the end of the year. After school ends."

"But- What about Uni?"

"You said you were taking a sabbatical year!"

"Yes, so I could intern in London!"

"Can't you intern in California?" Your mother whined.

"We're going to California? It's the furthest state?"

Your dad attempted to reassure you but failed. "Darling, it won't be that bad. Maybe you'll like it there more than you like it here!"

"I could never like anywhere more than I like it here!"

You agreed to go to your room and spent the rest of the day there. Later on, after you finished moping, you ringed up your closest friends to tell them you were moving. You did that until you were so tired you fell asleep on the phone with Sarah before you even called Daniel.

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Confrontation

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"Why am I hearing from everyone besides you that you're moving?" Daniel appeared out of thin air behind you, and the accusation was an assault on your conscience.

You could lie and tell him that you wanted to reveal that to him in person, or you could just tell him the truth- say you fell asleep. Mix-and-Match? You ended up just telling the truth. "I fell asleep when I was making some of my other calls. I was going to tell you, I swear!"

"Why didn't you call me first. I'm your best friend?"

"That's why! It was too hard. I kept putting it off and putting it off and putting it off because I didn't want to tell you, I don't want it to be true, and telling you of all people would make it feel real."

"Why can't you stay for Uni?"

"I already told my parents I was taking a gap year. I didn't apply to any colleges."

"Crap!" he sighed. "Ok, well, we're going to have to make the most of it. And! You're getting a going away party!"

"Daniel, I don't need-"

"No debate! You are getting a going away party!"

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Opening Night

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Four months later, after all the rehearsals and memorizations of lines. After much running around the entire film department, it was finally opening night, and your nerves were shot.

You were scrambling all morning to find everything you needed. All your costumes were at the school, but you still needed to bring your black leotard, skin-coloured tights, and wear your hair in an up-do style.

You decided to do your skincare routine, but your panic got the best of you, and you forgot what every single product was used for.

Daniel came over and helped you get ready but found you practically hyperventilating.

Your parents drove you both to the theatre, and when Ms Parker told you that Daniel couldn't be backstage, you promptly told her that he was your emotional support. After much arguing, she finally let him backstage.

Around an hour before showtime, the director told Daniel that he had to go wait in the audience if he already bought his ticket or that he had to go do it now.

Before he left, he gave you a pep-talk. "Hey, so one time, I was in this play, and the idea was that I was expelled, and there was a piece of paper I had to give my 'mother,' but I lost it. So we had to improvise, but I couldn't find the paper, and I felt horrible. So just know, even if you forget your lines, you must improvise, and remember, it still probably won't compare to the embarrassment I felt that day. So you can laugh at my humiliation. "

You chuckled, "I will. Ok, go before you get in trouble."

"Ok, me, our parents and all your friends will be in the front row. I've already reserved the entire row. I brought a whole bag of jackets just for that reason!"

"You can't do that," you said in between cackles.

"For you, I'll do anything," he grinned.

A few hours later and the show was almost done. "What's here? A cup, closed in my true love's hand? Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end," you wept.

"O, churl! Drunk all and left no friendly drop to help me after? I will kiss thy lips; Haply some poison yet doth hang on them, to die with thine restorative." You leaned over James and let your hair fall to the side of your head to cover your face. You pulled back without actually kissing James.

"Thy lips are warm."

A whispery voice came from offstage, "Which way?" The cue for you to take the poison, which was actually cranberry juice.

"Yea, noise? Then I'll be brief. O happy dagger!" You grabbed the dagger and brought it near your chest. "This is thy sheath;" you drew the fake knife back three inches from your chest and stabbed it to where the bag of more cranberry juice was and punctured the bag. 'Blood' soaked through your dress. "There rust, and let me die." You fell dramatically onto the altar and waited for the scene to end as the crowd cheered.

After the show, you dashed into the crowd where your friends and family waited for you. Ovations and Applauses were passed, lauded boxes of chocolates and gorgeous roses were given.

When you got to Daniel, he practically tackled you with a hug. "I actually thought you died for a split second. The blood looked so real."

"Daniel, most people don't bleed that fast, do they?"

"I don't know but fear kicked in, and I couldn't make sense of anything."

You grinned and almost went to your parents before Daniel grabbed your arm. "You don't have a date to the Leavers ball, do you?"

"No, I don't. Why?"

He sighed. "Well, I was thinking that you could go with me. I don't have a date either."

You squinted, thinking there was some ulterior motive behind his actions. "Ok, I'll go with you if you give me the money you owe me before then."

"It's right here," he smiled.

Your face scrunched up, but you reluctantly agreed. You only had a month of school left, and you might as well spend it having fun with your friends.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

The Leavers Ball and the Getaway Party

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

You were dressed in a light blue, pleated, Mikado prom dress that cut off at mid-thigh. You had black wedges on your feet and a black pearl-beaded bracelet on your arm.

You were wearing a half-up, half-down style that framed your face and a silver necklace with a circle-shaped diamond.

You were sitting in the parlour when Daniel rang the doorbell. He was ten minutes late.

"Sorry," he said when your dad answered it. "I know I'm late. I was picking up Kat and James."

Kat and James were your and Daniel's respective friends who'd started last year after you and Daniel introduced them.

"Hi," you popped out of the shadows. "Alright, Mom, Dad, we're late, so we're just going to get goi-"

"Wait! I have to take pictures! Go get Kat and James."

"No, Mom. No pictures!"

"It's only right. I just want a few. We can take it outside."

You sighed but reluctantly caved into your mother's will.

The four of you took pictures outside of Daniel's Jeep Wrangler. You took ones with silly faces, just girls, just boys, and ones with all four of you before your parents allowed you to leave.

You were forty minutes late, and the ball was already in full swing by the time you got there.

You got on the dance floor immediately because one of your favourite songs was playing, but the DJ switched the song as soon as you found a decent spot. It was a slow song. You chuckled, and Daniel put his hands on your waist.

"Well, this is awkward."

A few minutes later, Daniel posed an interesting question.

"Did you know that I had a crush on you when you first came to school?"

"Uh, you stammered. "No, I didn't know that."

"Yeah, I did. It was short, though. Surface-level."

"Oh," you said. "Should I take offence to that?"

"What?" His eyes widened in realization with what he said. "No, that's not what I meant. You have an amazing personality. I just meant that… I just meant I like you more as a friend than to ruin that with any of those feelings."

"Oh, ok. You wouldn't have, though."

"I wouldn't?"

"No, everyone needs an ego boost every once in a while."

"Haha!"

"And besides, I've had feelings for you at one point too. But it was very cliche, so I tried to shake it as hard as I could."

"Oh?" He raised his eyebrows. "And did you?"

"Like I said, as hard as I could. If it's still there somewhere, it's buried very deep, so much so that I was embarrassed."

"Embarrassed to like me?"

"I mean embarrassed to try and make my life seem like some movie."

"Oh, well, if you did, it would've just made you that much better as an actress. Speaking of that, would you consider acting in the least?"

"Maybe, now that I'm leaving, it's basically the last thing I have to connect me to you."

"No," he said, pointing to your bracelet. "You have that."

You had forgotten that it was Daniel who gave it to you, but the realization brought a smile to your face. "Oh yeah, I'll never take it off."

Later on, long before the ball ended, you saw many of your friends leaving.

"Hey, are you ready to go?" Daniel approached you.

"Where is everyone going?"

He wriggled his eyebrows. "Afterparty!"

"But it's not over?"

"Quit being a party popper and just come with us, L/N!"

You gave in, something you did a lot, and you all started driving. When you got there, you realized you were at Daniel's house.

"The afterparty is at your house?" you asked.

"Well…" James answered.

Kat joined in. "It's really an afterparty!"

"This is your going away party!" Daniel finished.

"But I'm not going away for another month."

"Well, now you have an entire month for people to give you gifts and stuff, and you don't have to worry about the party!" He reasoned.

"But why did it have to be after the Leavers ball?"

"Because you're already in a dress, and it has to be a surprise! Surprise!" Kat exclaimed.

"Alright, fine!"

The entire night you partied and danced, and though you didn't drink alcohol, plentiful amounts of pop and mocktails were passed around. The music was a delight to your ears with all your favourite songs. There were chips and pizza with all your favourite toppings.

"This party is awesome!"

Daniel grinned. "Well, I am an amazing party planner if I do say so myself."

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Airport

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

Daniel's parents drove your family to the airport. Your parents had sold the car. Your dad would return in a week to close a deal on the house. Everything was official, and now you were leaving.

You got out of the car, and the tears forcefully began to fall.

"I'm really gonna miss you, jerk," you said disdainfully to Daniel.

He chuckled. "I'm going to miss you more."

"Impossible!"

He wiped the fallen tear from your eye, and for a moment, you could see every single multi-coloured speck in his eyes and noticed how sometimes they looked blue, and at others, they looked grey or green.

You noticed the curvature of his smile and the chisel of his jawline.You saw the hurt in his eyes that said, 'why do you have to go? You're killing me,' and wanted to never move from that position.

He continued to rub the tears that fell onto your cheek, and the sad moment was as sheltered as it could be. You felt safe with him, in his arms, just looking at his face and being reminded of how he comforted you in a place that felt as familiar as Oz felt to Dorothy.

"What am I gonna do without you?" you whispered.

"Get at least one acting job, get an assistant and an agent, I'll do the same thing, and then either one of us has our assistants reach out to our agents, so we get back in touch in case we ever lose touch."

He sounded so grave that you couldn't help but laugh. "That's assuming I do become an actress, Daniel."

"You're right," he whined. "But don't forget me."

"I promise."

And you tried to keep that promise. Throughout your first year, you interned at UCLA, working in the lab. You then applied to go to school there, and you still tried to keep Daniel in your mind. Maintaining a social life on campus combined with schoolwork already wasn't easy. However, you still wouldn't let yourself forget your best friend.

It wasn't until you entered your senior year and you were about to graduate that he started to wane in your memories. The things you did together became obsolete as new friends and memories replaced the old. The things he taught you were thrown out to make space for the new lessons you learned each day.

Even when you did become an actress, you never really remembered why you decided to. You remembered that your friend pushed you to do that play, but it was almost ten years ago, and for the life of you, you couldn't remember his name.

But you did do it, first as an extra, then a body double, and then you started getting l roles on smaller shows. But your big break was getting a quasi-lead role on the spin-off of a big television show, The Walking Dead. For two years, you enjoyed going to conventions and playing the complex character, Valeria Bishop, and you thought you had it all figured out.

But life has a funny way of coming full circle and throwing you a curveball that knows you off course and changes your life.

#Daniel Sharman x reader #daniel sharman fic #Daniel Sharman imagine #Daniel Sharman fluff #Daniel Sharman angst #very angsty #ftwd imagine #twd imagine #troy otto imagine #dylan obrien imagine #that last one is for exposure #I have no regrets

[downywrites]

Did I post this before?…Birb can’t remember.

Purpled plays a game of bedwars with Techno, but gets a little over his head with it. (ah shit, here we go again)

He swung his legs back and forth on one of Hypixel’s waiting benches, watching players fight and quarrel on the islands in the distance. The feeling of the splintering wood underneath him made him wince as he shifted a bit.  Purpled sighed, leaning his head on his hands. Notch, I’m so bored. Why does everyone suck today? He felt a tug of temptation to join them, to slaughter them with the edge of his sword and the silver spark of his witty remarks. He waved it off, shaking his head a little. I can’t do that, not today. I’m waiting for him. Him...His eyes unfocused, thinking about the man he was to spar with today. Technoblade. He’s well-lauded and all that, but is he really that good? I mean, I know he was good back in the day, but things are different. So different. He focused back to see one of the people on the island getting yelled at. He leaned in, looking at the player closely. Noticing an illegal weapon on him, he shook his head, tutting quietly. “Jeez, you’d think that they would know to not cheat in such a public place.” A rough, ragged voice spoke up behind him. “You’d think so. They ain’t that smart, though.”

He yelped, turning to look at the offender. Purple eyes met crimson. Purpled jumped off the bench, stumbling a little bit. “W-wha? How did you get here so fast? I didn’t-” “Hear me? Of course you wouldn’t hear me. I prefer not to be heard, Purpled. That’s the warrior’s way.” After his brief startle, he collected himself almost immediately, looking at the hulking piglin hybrid up and down. The two of them were very close to one another- he could hear the heavy breathing of the warrior and the small snuffling noises he was making in between breaths. He glanced at his face for a moment, a sudden wave of shyness overcoming his usually witty and snarky personality. He stuttered a little as he spoke. “S-so! How did you get all this gold? I thought you couldn’t bring in things you didn’t find from Hypixel.”

The bigger of the two grinned a little, tusks shining an off-white in the sunlight. “I found it here too. Got them from unlucky people who got in my way. They were annoying anyways. Shouldn’t have waved gold in the piglin’s face.” He pointed towards the bedwars pedestal. “Are we going to do this or what?” The younger bedwars player’s mind swirled in confusion. What was he saying? Was he being sarcastic? Mocking? Completely neutral? Dear Notch, I have no clue what he’s thinking. He took an uncertain step towards the statue. More important question. Do I like him? Should- “We can back out if you want. It just means I have a little less blood for me later.” He snapped out of his little trance, looking at the piglin in a mix of annoyance and challenge. The pink-haired warrior dug out something from underneath his nails, leaning on the statue in a pose of pure apathy. He looked at the younger with a look of bored expectancy, a look that he had seen on himself in the mirror on particularly dreary days. He bristled a little, but he knew that it probably wasn’t on purpose. The guy is supposedly not the best at social cues. I’ll just have to bear with it. Bear with it, bear with it…

He gritted his teeth a little. “Yeah, we’ll do this. Let’s go.” He stalked up to the statue, ready to tap it, before a ring-encrusted hand grabbed his wrist. “Before we do.” He held up a small modded enchant book. “Asked the mods if we could do a private, modded match. Makes it more fun.” Purpled snorted, a bit of his normal snarkiness showing through again. “Need a little boost? No probs. Seems fine to me.” Techno grinned again, showing the bottom rows of his teeth in a minorly intimidating gesture. “Whatever you say, kid. Just telling you, this may be one of the more dangerous bonding activities we can do.”

The younger ignored his statement, tapping the statue and setting up a new private match. “Dangerous for you,” he muttered, purple irises flicking back and forth as he read how to add in the mod. Snorting, Techno kneeled down, chains swinging back and forth as he moved. A specific one that hung from his tusk and connected to a clip on his ear caught the boy’s eye. Their eyes met, purple gazing at crimson with the intensity of a man who had seen the furies of war. Techo looked back at the boy with no such idea in mind. He gestured towards the statue. “Ready?” Purpled nodded, eager to begin. His mind whirred to life again, immediately planning out his modes of attack against the piglin. I know this will be hard, but I really, really want to win against him! I heard from Tommy that he was good, but how good? Man, I sure hope that he does something really different than the others!

Techno looked in amusement at the boy. I’m guessing he’s already planning. What did I expect? He is a bedwars player, after all. The thing is, he doesn’t know what the mod that I installed does. He herded the boy, who was certainly still very lost in thought, towards the statue, tapping it on its cap-covered head. As the two warped, Purpled yelped in surprise at the noise. “What?” He looked up at the piglin in astonishment, landing on both feet and stumbling a little as he touched the ground. Techno simply shrugged from across the map, hoping the boy could see him. They both stepped into their respective pickup areas, items making small noises as they picked up the valuables from the ground. Purpled, humming with excitement, was chomping at the bit to get to Techno. I’m not sure if he remembers, but speed is key here. I’ve got to get to mid fast!

He scooped up the gold and iron frantically, running over to the shopkeeper and exchanging items with him quickly. As he ran, he dropped iron bars here and there, making the man snort a little at the bedwars player. He whispered to the other shopkeepers through the corner of his mouth. “That one’s always in a rush, ain’t he? Eccentric one, mi lads. If ya haven’t seen ‘im around, ya missing out. Always got the most fascinatin’ stories to tell in the lounge, ya know.” As the boy ran, placing blocks quickly, he looked out to the piglin’s island, expecting some movement. Nothing. As he reached middle, he gathered the emeralds carefully, glancing out to the island again and again. Nothing. He walked back to his island, whistling a tune. He armored himself and gathered materials. When he peeked out at the island, once again, he saw no activity. No defense, no nothing.

“What is he doing?” He wondered aloud. “What kind of strategy is that?” He walked out fully, looking around in confusion. The second he stepped near to his bed defense, the sound of fabric rustling reached his ears. A pink and red blur pounced on him, pinning him to the slanted fabric. “Gotcha.” A low voice purred beside his ear. The sound of his voice made him shiver. “W-what? How did-” Techno shushed him, continuing to pin the boy to his defense.

Realizing his lack of movement, the astonished boy began to struggle in his hold, pushing against him as much as he could from his pinned position. The piglin growled lowly, pushing him further onto the fabric, his chains hanging over the boy’s neck and ears as he did so. One of the chains, specifically the one that he had his eyes on earlier, scraped ever so slightly over Purpled’s neck, dragging gently over his collarbone. He yelped, struggling a little more to avoid the sensation. Technoblade raised an eyebrow at his reaction. “Oh? Are you ticklish? Didn’t hear Phil tell me ‘bout that.” He stared at the pinned boy beneath him, making him turn away and blush a soft pink. “I-I’m not.” Techno grinned, shifting a little so the chain moved over his neck again. Purpled scrunched up his neck a little, giggling lightly, before looking straight at Techno with wide eyes. “Ihihit’s nohot what it looks like! There was- ack!” The piglin scooped him up with both arms, cradling him lightly, before moving towards the middle of the islands.

With every step he took, Purpled could feel the power and speed in his movements. At one point, he stopped at a large gap, looking down at the void below. The void sparkled lightly, beckoning the two of them into its cold embrace. The piglin stared as if he was entranced, looking at the sparkles for a few minutes too long. Purpled began to wriggle, hoping that the hybrid wouldn’t notice his movements. Techno seemed to pay him no heed, staring at the (decidedly gold-looking) sparkles down below. As he moved, he noticed a small little movement, catching his eye in an instant. Freezing in place, he looked for the movement again, heart in his throat. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he sees Techno’s ear, a little floppy triangle nestled deep in the man’s ponytail, twitch ever so slightly. Purpled sighed lightly in relief, moving to hop out of the piglin’s arms. I thought that was a larger part of him. If it was, I’d be-

One of the hands that held him shifted slightly, making his breath hitch slightly. He looked to his side to see one of his hands shift to keep him pinned in his grasp. “No escaping. Not on my watch.” A large hand grabbed at his side, making him squeak a little. “Oh? Did my little captive just squeak? I thought you weren’t ticklish.” He grabbed at his side again, listening for the telltale squeak. He grinned at the high-pitched giggle he got in response, finally snapping himself out of his daze fully and looking straight at the flustered boy in his arms. “C-captive? I’m a captive?” Ignoring his stuttering protests, the piglin gently squeezed at the boy’s sides, making him squirm and giggle. “Hehehey! Stohop!” “A person who isn’t ticklish wouldn’t say that, would they? I think you might be a little bit of a liar. And you know how liars get punished in our household?” Purpled pushed himself away from his hand as much as he could. “Hohohow?” His hand grabbed firmly at his side, vibrating lightly. “TehehehECHNO!” He leaned down a little bit more, whispering as well as he could into the younger’s ear. “We tickle them.”

The bedwars player would have paled, if his blood would cooperate. Instead, warmth flushed into his face and cheeks as he giggled and pushed at the hand half-heartedly. He knew better than to attempt to escape the piglin, especially since he had seen the man follow that beanie-wearing bird hybrid across the SMP. He had seen just how fast Techno could go. There’s no way out of this, is there? I should have known that he was up to no good. The warrior in question began to move to his own base, hopping from place to place with ease. As the gentle winds buffered at his face, he unconsciously buried his face deeper into Techno’s chest, making the man smile. Why is he so cute? The voices, for once (or twice) in his life, agreed with him readily. E. Technosoft? Technoprotect. Purpled is so cute, aww… He placed blocks as he went, bridging with ease and jumping from area to area as if he was practicing parkour. Maybe this kid wouldn’t be that bad of an addition to the family.. No. I have enough people as it is. As he thought, the boy shifted in his arms, looking up at him with wide eyes. “M-Mr. Techno? Uh..are we there yet?” He looked down to meet his eyes, melting a little at the sight of the kid. “We’re almost there, Purpled.” He ignored the voices’ plea to call him by a nickname or something equally embarrassing.

Come on, Techno. Don’t be a party pooper.

Blood god is soft aww-

Nope. He shook his head, trying to ignore the voices as best he could. Not soft at all. Once he felt the smooth stone of his base below his hooves, he placed the boy on the bed, trusting him not to break it. (Not that he would care, anyways. Technoblade never dies, and that’s a fact.)

He loomed over him, staring down at him. Purpled shrunk away from his stoic gaze, flushing a little more. “Why dihid you bring me here?” Techno smirked from his vantage point, gold-encrusted tusks twinkling like stars among an ebony sky. He leaned down, putting both of his arms on the two sides of the bed, ruffling the sheets gently. “I was told to do a bonding activity with you. And the one that seems to work the best with everyone is tickling them.” Purpled giggled a bit at the word, squirming a bit in excitement fear. “B-but, you said-” “We’d play a game of bedwars? We’re currently on a map, with the same things and circumstances as a bedwars game. Same difference.” He punctuated his words with a quick jab to the boy’s sides, grinning at the resulting squeak. “St-stop! Dohon’t do that!”

Techno ignored him, placing one of his hands over the other’s stomach. He let it rest there, hand and wrist heavy on his tum. Purpled, looking down at the hand from his position, whimpered a little, secretly wanting him to start already. He wasn’t used to this sort of waiting game with virtually anything. But a small part of him was enjoying the slow-paced teasing. After all, it’s not like he gets a lot of time to slow down and relax, after all. He just didn’t expect this hulking piglin to be the one to make him take a chill pill. He tried to slow his breathing, shoulders shuddering lightly as he did so. Techno noticed, corners of his mouth quirking up a bit at the cute sight of the purple-clad boy trying his best to relax his shoulders. “Is something the matter?” he teased, shifting his hand ever-so-slightly from its position on his quivering belly. He squeaked quietly, ears turning a slight shade of red. “I-Its nothing!” He refrained from telling the piglin that he was resting his hand on one of his most sensitive spots. The less he knows, the better.

Techno was unimpressed by his reaction, quirking one wine-colored eyebrow shifting upwards. “Nothing, you say? And what if I do this?” He rubbed lightly over the boy’s stomach, moving in a slow, almost lazy circle. Instantaneously, his ears were blessed by Purpled’s small, bubbly giggles. “Nohoho! Dohohon’t!” Instead of speeding up and ruthlessly wrecking him, the piglin continued to rubs languidly over his tum, wondering how much of the light teasing the usually fast-moving player would be able to handle. The voices agreed with his methods, but stayed unusually quiet.

Tease slow.

Hah, Technoslow.

Technoslow? He ignored the slight ribbing, choosing to whisper quiet teases and rub at him some more. Purpled continued to giggle away, flushing lightly under his scrutinizing gaze. What is he thinking? He’s so serious. Also, is he going to speed up or what? He was beginning to get more and more flustered as he continued to rub the same spot at the exact same speed. He squirmed lightly, trying to push his stomach into his hand, but he pulled away just as much, snorting quietly in mirth. “Getting impatient are we?” “I’m not impatient, you’re just going so slow-” “Want me to go faster? With pleasure.” Techno’s gold-encrusted fingers dug lightly into his ticklish tummy, making the boy yelp and giggle louder. “Ehehehe, Tehehehechno…”

He turned his head away from him, trying to avoid eye contact in his embarrassment. “Is your tum a little bit ticklish, hm? That’s so cute.” Purpled curled up a little bit at that, shaking his head. “Nohohot cuhuhute!” The piglin quickly darted his hand underneath his hoodie, scratching lightly at the sensitive skin on his belly. His laughter went up an octave, bubbly giggles morphing to full blow laughter. “Tehehehechno! Yohohohou- dohohohON’T-”

“Don’t what? Do this?” He traced the outside of the boy’s navel, watching as the boy squirmed and flushed a brighter shade of red. “Yeheheheah! Thahahat!” Techno grinned and sped up his circling, making the boy squeal. “Do that? Alright, Purpled. Whatever you say, kiddo.”

“NoHO, IHIHI SAHAHAID DOHOHON’T!” The piglin pulled his hoodie up fully, exposing his quivering tummy, and nuzzled his face and snout onto the boy’s exposed skin, fluffy cheeks and face making the nuzzles almost torturous to the flustered lee. Purpled all but shrieked, hands flying to Techno’s face and pushing at him as best he could. “NOHOHOHO! PLEHEHEASE!” The boy, flustered as he was, felt a smattering of butterflies in his stomach, ready to take flight. “You like that, kid?” Purpled couldn’t bring himself to say no, nodding through his boisterous laughter. The warrior smiled, nuzzling deeper into the hysterical boy’s tum. “Hey Purpled, what’s your favorite fruit?” Purpled cocked his head a little, confused. “Whahahahat dohoho yohohohou mehehean?” Techno grinned. “Because my favorite fruits are raspberries.” As Techno lifted his head from his tum, he inhaled sharply, before blowing a large raspberry on the prostrate boy’s stomach.

Purpled shrieked, wiggling and pushing at the piglin’s head in hysteria. “EEE! TEHEHECHNOHOHO!” “Yes, Purpled?” “S-SWIHIHITCH SPOHOHOTS!” He quickly shifted to his sides, squeezing and tasering lightly. Almost immediately, his laughter calmed down a little. “Better, kiddo?” “Yehehehes...Th-thahahanks…” The boy flushed from beneath him, looking away from him bashfully. Techno smiled softly at the purity of the kid. He’s so soft and small, isn’t he? Always one to rely on tactics more than brute strength. It’s kind of cute, actually. As he poked and prodded the squirming boy’s sides, he heard a noise akin to a small chirp come out of the boy's mouth. Purpled slapped his hands to his mouth, eyes widening in shock.

Techno slowed down a bit more, prodding at the same spots in an attempt to elicit the same reaction. When he poked a specific spot right beside his ribs, he chirped again, a soft sound that certainly didn’t match with his laughter and stood out like a sore thumb to Techno’s sensitive ears. “Are you a bird hybrid?” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Purpled’s facial expression freeze. “No, no I’m not.” “You’re not? Are-” “No. I’m not.” The voice that came out of his mouth seemed robotic, cold, completely different from his normal voice. No teasing or sass tinted his voice. Why is he lying about this? Did someone teach him to do this?

He shifted his hands to his back, feeling for the joints of his wings carefully. He sucked in a breath when he felt wing-binding bandages instead of feathers. “Who did this to you? Who-” “I did.” He looked at his face in shock. “Why would you do this to yourself?” He felt his heart sink into his boots. Purpled’s stony face revealed nothing about his inner emotional state, simply repeating what he had said before in a eerily monotone voice. “I did.” Internalized trauma? I knew there was a reason Phil wanted me to ‘bond’ with him. Jeez, he really needs to tell me what I’m looking for. This is getting ridiculous. Techno gently groped for the end of the binds, loosening them with small, deft movements. Purpled made no move to stop him, blankly staring at him as if he saw nothing. As if he saw nothing and everything at the same time. As if he was stuck in time, he made no noise, not moving from his stock-still position. The warrior’s concern rose as he continued to unwind the binds, weak, dilapidated wings flopping out from their restraints.

Do they even have muscles anymore? That’s going to take quite a while to strengthen. Damn, how long has Purpled bound his wings like this? He poked at one gently, stopping immediately when the boy inhaled sharply at his touch. He knew better than to attempt to help on his own. “I need to get you to Phil. Are you okay with that?” Purpled made no effort to answer him, continuing to stare into space. The voices supplied him with info to fill the gaps.

He’s disassociating.

E.

Kill?

No kill.

His wings are done for.

He shook his head. No, I’m not going to let him lose his wings. Phil and I can still help him, as long as he cooperates. Even though his voices continued to tell him that there was a low chance of giving him back the ability to fly, he scooped the boy up, running over to the exit portal as quickly as he could. He darted through the crowds of people, ignoring the looks that he got in return. He typed in the coordinates he needed to warp to, heart in his throat. This is serious. His wings look as if he hasn’t unbound them for weeks. Did someone force him to do it? Was he on an abusive SMP? So many questions, too little time.

The second the portal let him into the SMP, he pushed through the snow with the urgency of a husky returning home, snow crunching merrily in stark contrast with the flurry of emotions in Techno’s chest. He slammed the door open, hoping that he didn’t break the doorframe in the back of his mind, before calling for Phil. “Phil! Purpled!” Philza climbed down the ladder, smile freezing at the sight of the boy’s emaciated wings. “Oh shit.”

He slid down the rest of the ladder, hopping off with practiced ease. Rushing over to the two of them, he hurriedly scooped up the limp boy, hurrying him to the medical area of the house. He placed the boy down on a medical table, belly down, and took a proper look at the state of the boy’s weakened wings. He pulled one out to its full extension, wincing at the way it moved. He halfheartedly tried to preen the remaining feathers on the wings, gasping quietly as a few feathers came out with the slightest touch. Techno stood to the side, fiddling with his armguards and chains. After a few minutes of horrified silence from the duo, Philza’s strained voice, usually calm and cool under pressure, rang out, echoing slightly in the sterilized area.

“His wings are really weakened. I’m not sure if we can help him.” Techno grunted at that. “No.” Phil turned to look at him fully, surprised. “What do you mean, ‘no’? I can’t-” “I didn’t decide to bond with this small child, try to learn everything about his likes and dislikes, and run with him in my arms across the whole of hypixel for him to lose his wings.” Techno gently pulled out the boy’s wing, tracing a single finger on the areas where muscle should be. He heard a little giggle come from the boy, making him smile a little.

“We can make this work. First things first, I think we need to teach the boy how to be okay with the way he looks. He’s been the one binding, after all.” Philza, still shocked at the idea that Techno made an actual bond with the small, hoodie-wearing bedwars player, nodded slowly, charm string on his bucket hat bouncing slightly. “H-he’s been binding? He was the one binding it?” Techno made no move to answer that. He flipped the boy over onto his back, being very careful of his wings. He began to shake the kid softly, trying to make him snap out of his daze...was it still a daze? He looked at him closer, confused. Could he be asleep? Poking gently at his cheek, he tried to rouse him again, only getting a soft snore in response. Oh yeah, he’s asleep. The voices spoke up again, drowning out all reasonable thought for a moment.

Kill him.

Liability.

No, don’t do that.

Syndicate?

E.

Blood for the blood god.

Kill, kill, kill-

“Stop.” He shook his head, trying to clear his head. “I’m not killing him. No.” “Voices acting up again?” He nodded, not attempting to look at his friend in the eyes, lest he loses focus on his train of thought. Boots click softly on the floor, and suddenly, he feels a warm, comforting blanket of pressure wrap around him. He struggled to control his breathing, shoulders shuddering. The wing wrapped around him curled around him, squeezing him comfortingly. The noise of the voices continued to whisper, making him shiver. I need to control them. I’m not killing him. Phil moved closer to him, trilling at the larger one of the two. “Hey, hey. Listen to me, okay? Techno. You’re fine.” He continued to speak to the man, hoping desperately that he would snap out of it soon.

At this rather inopportune moment, Purpled began to stir, shifting around a little. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up with one arm, yawning a little. “W-wha?” He looked around blearily, confused by the unknown area. His eyes widened a little when he saw Techno, grinning sleepily. Unknowing of the dilemma going on in his head, he moved into the piglin’s line of sight. “Hey, Techno. Thanks for helping me.” He smiled at him, giving him the most charming smile he could .Didn’t want him to be mad at him, no? I mean, this is probably his house. As he looked, he realized that the person beside him had wings too. He looked at the other man, tilting his head slightly in puzzlement. “W-who are you?” He recognized him from the parties and hangouts the SMP would do, but knew nothing else about the man. He’d never seen his wings, either. Did he bind, too?

Techno snapped out of his daze, looking down at the young avian. He grinned back at the kid. “Hey. Good to see you’re awake.” Purpled stared at the older avian’s wings in wonder. He blurted out, “Your wings are so big and pretty, mister...uh…” “Philza.” Phil was already charmed by the little one of the trio. He’s so small! I kind of want to keep him...nope. Not doing that. I already have enough adopted children. Even as he thought that, he continued to internally coo at that younger one, tilting his head at the same angle as the boy. “We need to take care of your wings, mate. You think you can let us do that?” Purpled flinched lightly at the word, but tried his best to stay still. They are trying to help me...right?

Against his better judgement, he queried, “B-but..why do I need my wings, Mr. Philza, Mr.Techno? Why can’t I just...do without? They’re not very useful anyways.” He pulled out one of them with his hands, wincing at the feeling of limp flesh shifting as he did so. “It’s not like I can fly with them.” Philza gently grabbed at the other wing, tracing over the wing structure. Purpled giggled slightly, trying to stay still for the elder. He poked at a certain mass at the very edge of the crook, pointing at it. “Can you feel this? This is one of the last muscles to erode. As long as you have that muscle, you should be able to fly again, with some work.”

Purple eyes widened in shock. “But- I thought- I thought I couldn’t fly? Ever?” “Nah, kid.” He poked at the mass again, smiling at him. “You can.” He felt liquid burn underneath his eyes. He blinked, trying to keep the tears back. Through his tear-blurred vision, he saw Philza smile at him. “We can make it happen kid.” Techno piped up for the first time in quite a while, snorting angrily. “And whoever told you you can’t fly is going to get a personal visit from me and my axe of peace.” He pulled out a shining netherite axe, tapping it lightly on the side of the table.

Purpled laughed, a watery sound that made both of the elders stir to life, ready to hug him. But he waved it off, swiping off the tears with practiced (almost too practiced) ease. He stuttered slightly, warmth and gratefulness seeping into his voice like heat from a hot chocolate into a pair of cold hands in the wintertime. “T-thank you.” He moved to hug Philza, grabbing at the man and sobbing into his shirt. Phil pat his back, rubbing soothing circles into them. “Of course, kid.” Techno moved closer, dropping the axe on the floor with a clatter and wrapping his arms around the two of them. “Group hug,” he deadpanned, snuggling into the two and effectively squashing the smallest in between the two of them. Purpled made no move to escape the duo, chirping happily.

The house was silent. The three of them basked in the soft, warm feeling of being loved. Unfortunately, no such peace ever stays intact. With a loud bang, Tommy slammed the door open. “What’s up, motherfuckers!” He sauntered into the room, grin freezing on his face at the look of surprise on Purpled’s face. “Oh...hello.” Purpled smiled at him, too happy to be disturbed by the rambunctious kid. Tommy speed-walked past them, not trying to disturb them anymore. Muffled by the layers of fabric and feathers, Phil quipped lightly, “Any more things to disturb the hug?” Techno huffed. “I mean, if you wanted to know...I did find out that Purpled’s ticklish.”

Purpled’s heart stopped. Oh crap. “No, hehe...let’s not talk about that…” “Nah, I think we should talk about it. It’s real interestin’...” The youngest scrambled to escape the duo’s grasp, only to be grabbed by the hood of his hoodie. Philza pulled him back, grinning. “Oh no, you don’t.” He turned to look at Techno, smiling as the two of them untangled themselves. He scooped up the younger, poking at his ribs as he did so. “Ready for round two, kiddo? I want to find out all of your spots myself.” “NohoHO!” Techno stood back, crossing his arms with a slight smile. I guess some things do end up turning out right after all. He leaned back, watching the other two have their fun. And all was calm outside the house of the syndicate...except, you know...literally everything. But that’s a story for later.

#Lee!purpled #ler!techno #old fic #my writing #downy writes #dsmp tickle #mcyt tickle #Tell me if I posted this alreadt #Lol #sfw tickling