#I wanna say it was a crow but I don’t exactly remember

[bagsyy]

ONLY FOOLS RUSH IN

warnings! 18+ mdni, fem!reader, oral (m receiving), slight throatfucking/overstim if you squint, cum swallowing, lovesick atsumu. 1.6k words not proofread at all because if i look at it again i’ll throw up. happy birthday atsumu<3

atsumu’s brain has felt hazy for a while now. he couldn’t exactly pinpoint when it had started though. he didn’t have the mental fortitude to. he’s not sure if it began when he saw a glimpse of you getting ready in the bathroom. you were sitting atop the counter wearing one of his shirts as you curled your eyelashes. you pretended to scold him for daring to look at you before the wedding.

“it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding, dummy. if we ever get divorced it’s gonna be your fault” you say, hitting the tube of mascara against the heel of your palm.

“want me to piss with my eyes closed?” atsumu snaps his head at you. “i’m not that talented, baby.”

“you know what? i think i’m actually getting cold feet. maybe we shouldn’t get married.” atsumu is silent for a moment before he leans back and pokes his head through the crack in the door. “really? they seemed pretty warm to me when you were beggin me to book the next flight here. ‘i just wanna get married, tsumu! i don’t wanna wait! i’ll marry you right now.’” he mocks you in a high-pitched voice.

“that is not what i sound like! can you save the theatrics for when you’re not actively pissing?” you side eye him, unable to prevent yourself from letting out a soft laugh. “m’trying to get ready, atsumu. i don’t wanna look ugly when we get married in front of an elvis impersonator.”

“sweetheart, we both know that’s impossible” atsumu says as he walks to the sink next to where you’re sat atop the bathroom counter. “you tryin to look good for another man? you’re killin me” atsumu’s honey colored eyes lock with yours, and you swear he’s never looked more lovesick in his life.

it was only after that, he decided, that you were really killing him.

it was his idea to do a “first look” in the hotel room before the two of you left to get hitched. his argument was that a lot of people get married in las vegas, what if he loses you in the crowd and he accidentally marries the wrong person because he can’t remember the dress you were wearing?

your phone is propped up on the window, hidden from atsumu’s view but still in the perfect position to capture this moment. the two of you are standing back to back, and you can feel him getting antsy as he clenches and unclenches his hands, fiddling with the sleeves of his suit. it’s cute, really, how soft atsumu gets when he’s with you. his heart never ceases to pound every time you take his hand in yours and squeeze it three times. when you kiss the crease between his furrowed eyebrows when his stress is visibly consuming him. when it’s 3 in the morning and you can’t sleep, so you softly whisper atsumu’s name until he wakes up and you beg him to stay up with you so you have someone to talk to.

“okay. we turn around on three.” you reach behind you, searching for atsumu’s hand with your own. his fingers intertwine with yours as he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, feeling the absolute rock on your left hand brush against his knuckles. “one, two, three” you turn around to face each other, and atsumu looks like he’s about to pass out. the two of you are completely unable to form any coherent thoughts, just softly laughing in shock as you take each other in.

atsumu looks handsome as ever, messy blonde hair styled into something more neat and presentable. he looks like a husband, you think to yourself. you imagine a day where the two of you are sat out on your front porch, watching the sun setting over the horizon as soft beams of light glimmer on the laugh lines and crows feet adorning atsumu’s face. and you swear you’ll love him then just as much as you do right now.

atsumu smoothes his hands over his suit jacket. “damn baby, i’m feelin a little underdressed next to you.” you don’t miss how his voice quivers ever so slightly. “you didn’t tell me you were gonna look this gorgeous.”

your hand is still in his, and he lifts your arm up to get a better look at you. your dress is simple, satin, knee length with a slight v-neckline. it’s not the most intricate dress, but it’s timeless. elegant. you’re wearing a simple gold necklace, one that atsumu gave you, that sits pretty on your collarbones. his favorite part about your entire getup is, by far, your veil. it’s secured to your hair with a pretty white bow and stops just a little bit past your shoulders. atsumu wipes the smallest tear from the corner of his eyes and sniffles a little bit before pulling you into him, wrapping his arms around you. in typical atsumu fashion, his hand slides down to grab a handful of your ass and you jump in surprise. “c’mon let’s make you a miya” atsumu grins.

the next two hours are a complete blur. you were all satin and soft skin, and atsumu felt like he was going to pass out at any given moment. he hardly remembers anything, really. he’s extremely grateful that you found a chapel that included a recording of the ceremony in the cost, because the only thing he can remember at this very moment is the man in the pink suit and aviator glasses telling him to kiss his bride. he’s been ready to marry you for nearly as long as he’s loved you, and there was nothing else going on inside his little brain besides making you his wife.

but now, here in this hotel room, he’s sure he’s been lobotomized.

“atsumu” you pout as you pull away from his cock, resting your head against his toned thigh. “you’re gonna rip my veil.” your hand squeezes his sensitive tip, demanding his attention.

“shit, shit baby m’sorry. just tryin to hold it for you” he throws his head back into the pillow, upset by the sudden loss of warmth from your mouth. “i’ll buy you another one just—please. please baby” he whines. “what kinda wife would leave me hangin like that?” he peers down at you, grinning ever so slightly. it’s amazing how he still manages to be cocky when you have him like this.

“what kind of husband-” you pause, softly nipping his inner thigh, placing a feather light kiss on it as an apology, “-rips his wife’s veil because he can’t keep still when his dick is in her mouth?”

“said m’sorry” he whines, throwing one of his arms over his eyes. you place more kisses along his inner thigh, slowly making your way back to his cock. you kiss the base of his shaft, trailing all the way up to his leaky tip. it jumps with every single kiss. “do something. please, angel.”

you give in, lightly licking the underside of his dick before taking him into your mouth. you hollow your cheeks around him and he bucks into you, fat tip hitting the back of your throat. atsumu groans as you swallow around him. you try your best not to gag, but atsumu is too fucking big. no matter how many times you’ve done this, it still takes you a second to become fully accustomed to him.

“god damn baby, shit” atsumu’s lower abdomen begins to twitch as you continue to bob your head. “so pretty. y’look so pretty with my cock in your mouth. so fuckin’ messy.” and he’s right. between the heated makeout session that led up to this and the sheer amount of spit that’s on atsumu’s dick, what’s left of your crimson red lipstick is smeared all over the both of your faces, on his thighs, near the base of his cock. and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

your hand left hand strokes what can’t fit in your mouth as you continue to swipe your tongue on the underside of his fat pink tip, and your right hand moves to cup his balls. he looks so fucking pretty like this. you can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with every pretty sound your husband makes. you moan around him, and his hand grips your hair (and veil) just a little bit tighter. atsumu is whimpering at this point, face beet red as he looks down at you.

“gonna make me cum. please make me cum. you gonna swallow, pretty girl?”

you let out a soft hum, giving him an unspoken “yes.” he doesn’t last much longer after that, spilling his seed into your mouth with a deep groan. he moans your name and babbles something about how much he loves his pretty wife, how you’re so perfect, so good for him. you swallow everything he gives you, and you kiss his tip as you take him out of your mouth. not being able to resist the urge, you start to jerk him off, and he lets out a choked sob.

“okay, okay. s’enough. it’s enough baby, fuck” he tugs on his blonde hair, back arching.

“oh? is it, though?” you coo at him, admiring the way he looks right now. he constantly does the same shit to you, eating you out until your legs lock and you can’t stop shaking. but when he’s the one on the receiving end, he’s far whinier.

atsumu grabs you by your wrist and pulls you on top of him before you can overstimulate him any further. you yelp as you fall onto his chest, placing your head on his shoulder. “wanna kiss my wife now” he pouts, tilting his head to kiss you. he can taste himself on your tongue and it makes him sigh into your mouth. he runs his fingers down your back, tracing the curvature of your spine. “that was some of your best work, mrs. miya.”

#remember when i said trashy vegas wedding w atsumu? #remember #this post is sponsored by orange celsius and za #sorry for making atsumu so pathetic it’s because he is pathetic #thank you to my baby leah for entertaining my atsumu brainrot for the past month #haikyuu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu smut #atsumu miya smut #en ess eff double you

[blackberryshortcake]

I Can Get To Hell Much Faster Than You

This is the First and only fic I’ve ever written tell me if I should write more or not

“Corvus” I breathed.

The name rolling off my tounge as though it hadn’t been uttered in the later half of a couple hundred years. I stare at the man before me with watery eyes. Although on the surface one might see a man in his late 20’s or early 30’s with ebony hair and a amber eyes but not me. I see beyond that facade to the daemonium that is lying beneath.

“Fictor” The name falls from his lips as a tear rolls down my cheek.

“Call me (y/n)”

“Then you may call me Sebastian Michaelis, My Lady” he bowed slightly at the end of his sentence.

“Cut the shit” I bite back. “Why are you here of all places?”

His facade drops slightly. If you were naive you would have even thought he was human.

“I’m currently contracted”

“Oh-okay?”

“Fictor what exactly are you doing here?” He asks mater of factly

“I came here on a deal and I-I’m stuck. It’s like they’re something tethering me here…like I’m back to square one.”

“Come with me.” I draw my eyes from the ground to his face searching for some sort of malice yet none is found.

“Okay” something tell me to trust him. I always have trusted him he found me when I was most vulnerable and built me from the ground up. He was actually the one who taut me to trust no one. Snapping back to reality I realize he’s leading us through the busy London street. All the noise and the chatter it’s all to loud it’s like I can everything and everyone.

It’s just all so incredibly loud.

He stop’s suddenly I nearly fell into him. I wanna hear what he’s saying but my ears are ringing at this point. My eyes dart from face to face before landing on the boy he was apparently talking to. He’s looking at me as though he’s waiting for an answer or excepting me to say something. I feel a heavy hand on my shoulder. My eyes dart up to meet Corvus. When did he get behind me?

“Huh?”

“Sebastian do you truely have to waste my time with this stray” gesturing loosely to me.

“Who the fuck you callin’ stray” the words falling from my mouth like a knife hitting a wall.

Corvus’ hand grips my shoulder tighter. The boy seems shocked by my response and so do the mortals passing by us. Whispering their remarks.

“I beg your pardon”

I ignore him and draw my attention back to the creature next to me

“Is this your contract?”

“Yes. Now I suggest we take this conversation off the street. My Lord” he gestures to the carriage that seems to just have appeared although I feel as though I heard it pull up but can’t quite remember. The boy sighs and Corvus helps him in. He then turns to me

“Fictor” he’s says pointedly

I climb inside mentally noting that Corvus chose to sit next to me rather than the boy who was his supposed master. The boy side and leaned his head on his hand.

“So who exactly are you?” The question was jaded

“Fictor, somnia daemonium”

He look did not change as he waited for an answer, Corvus beat me to it.

“My lord she is Dreamer, Dream Demon.”

“Somnia Daemonium” I repeat.

“And how do you know my butler.”

“Is that what you’re pretending to be Corvus?” I ask amused.

“I’ve known him since my beginning” technically not a lie.

“Why do you call him that?” The boy asked.

“Corvus, Corvus Daemonium…Crow, Crovus is crow. He’s not the sharpest tool in the shed is he”

Corvus chuckled

“You jest”

“So is that your real name Sebastian” the boy seemed pleased to know that fact.

“No” he simply stated

I continued “Humans have names we barrow them.”

“Hmmm, what exactly are you doing here with him.” Before answering I look to Corvus almost like asking him for permission to tell. He nods slightly exspression unreadable.

“I was on a deal and I got stuck. I’m stuck.”

“A deal? Like a contract?”

“No his kind have contract, mine don’t.”

“What’s the difference?” He’s skeptical.

“He has a leash. I don’t.”

Corvus knock my knee with his. I grit my teeth in response. I continue “I don’t consume souls.”

“You dont? Then what kind of demon are you?” Amusment in his voice.

“The cosmic kind. I came here on a deal but it’s like something’s tethering me here like I’m back to the beginning.”

“The beginning? Of?”

“Of me. I’m back where I started.”

The carriage jolts and I peak out the window to see a large manor. Corvus exits first, then the ashen hair boy, then me.

“Welcome to the Phantomhive Manor”

Phantomhive where have I heard that name before?

…continuandum…

Ps. A link to Pt. 2

#sebastian michaelis x reader #black butler #x reader #sebastian x reader #sebastian michaelis #ciel phamtonhive

[coffeeghoulie]

Mushy May Day 16: “No one understands me like you do”

Mushy May and prompts arranged by @forlorn-crows

Pairing: Dew/Sunshine

Words: 601

Contains: So much transition angst (it got out of hand). Sunny and Dew discussing being hybrid ghouls

***

“Dew! Dewdewdew! Dewdrop!”

Dew looks up from where he’s restringing his guitar. The door to his room is still closed, but he can hear Sunshine calling his name, her footsteps pounding down the hallway. 

He finishes the string he’s working on and sets his guitar back on its stand, bracing himself for the oncoming storm. Sunny slams his door open, clutching something in her other hand. 

“Dew, you wanna smoke?” Sunny asks, holding up a joint. “I got my hands on some of Mounty’s good stuff!”

Dew raises an eyebrow, leaning back and stretching. “And how exactly, Shiny, did you get Mounty’s good shit? He saves that for special occasions.”

Sunny grins, and she is the sun that is her name, brightening up Dew’s bedroom. “I asked nicely. You should try it instead of raiding his cabinets with Swiss while his back’s turned.”

Dew laughs, patting his mattress, inviting Sunny to sit next to him. She plops down on Dew’s bed next to him, nudging her forehead against his shoulder. She takes the joint in between her teeth, leaning into him. 

He sighs, pretending to be annoyed, as he reaches out and takes the other end of the joint in his fingers. He lets go and the tip of the joint glows as Sunny inhales. “Thank you, Ember,�� Sunny says, blowing the smoke as she passes Dew the joint. 

“You can do that yourself, you know?” Dew says. “You’re just as much a fire ghoul as me.”

“Oh yeah, I could,” Sunny says. “But it’s about the intimacy, Dew.”

They both laugh, and they spend the next several minutes passing the joint back and forth. Dew’s bedroom gets hazy with thick, herbal smoke. 

“I’m glad you got summoned, Shiny,” Dew says, staring up at his ceiling. “You’re like me, you’re a hybrid. No one understands me like you do.”

“I’m half air, though, Ember, and Swiss’s like us too,” Sunny says, her posture slumping, her head resting on Dew’s shoulder. Her curls tickle the skin on his neck, still sensitive where his gills used to be. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Dew says, passing her the joint back after a long inhale. He leans down, resting his head on top of Sunny’s, careful to not stab his chin on her horns. “You’re part fire, like me. And Swiss doesn’t count. He’s an actual multi ghoul. We’re hybrids.”

She takes a hit, holding her breath before letting it out with a sigh. “Dumb question, Ember, please don’t get mad. I wasn’t here when you were the water ghoul of the band. Are you still a hybrid?”

Dew sighs, taking the joint back from her and taking two hits before he answers. “Technically, yes. I just can’t reach that part of me that much anymore. It hurts. There was a ritual, a year, year and a half before you came Up Top. It made me like this.”

“I’m sorry, Ember.”

“Don’t be. Fire ghouls are hard to summon. Sister Imperator thought it would be easier to try changing one of us into one instead of summoning a new one. I don’t remember too much. I was touch and go for a couple weeks. You wanna know more, ask Aeth or Mounty. They were there.”

“Huh,” Sunny says eloquently. She leans more heavily into Dew’s side, wraps an arm around him, pulls him flush to her body. “I’m sorry, Dew. I’m so glad you’re still here. Glad I got to meet you.”

“Me too, Shiny. Glad I got to meet you too.”

“Love you, Ember,” Sunny says, rubbing her forehead against Dew’s jaw.

“Love you too, Shiny.”

#mushy may #my writing #sunshine ghoulette #dewdrop ghoul #dew/sunshine #the band ghost fanfiction #the band ghost

[hyperfix-tangented]

SOD Trio (incorrect) quotes! Because I'm bored, have no impulse control and own a laptop

Thyme: I’ve become a bread crumb dealer to four crows at the lake. They pay me with a bit of everything. Like shiny things, fabric, or pens. But recently they paid me with a 20 dollar bill they found somewhere. So I decided to buy them some more expensive bread. They loved it. So they understand what to do. Give me money. I’ve probably racked up about 200 dollars at this point. Is it morally wrong though, I mean. They’re the ones who steal the money from others. Or perhaps they just have a big pile laying somewhere. Should I keep on doing this? Hyper: You sound like the start of a Batman villain.

--

Techie: Do I least have a chance to explain myself? Hyper: This is America, so nope! Techie: This isn't America, this is OHIO!

--

Hyper: Hello friends! The Squad: Hyper: You might be wondering why I’m taped to the ceiling

--

Techie: My future friend must be brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized. Thyme: steps on a caterpillar and proceeds to drop to their knees and sob while apologizing profusely Techie: That one. I want that one.

(Listen I know it said 'partner' before but this is too accurate I can't.)

--

Techie: watching the squad's shenanigans with concern Do you feel like this has gotten out of hand? Hyper: I don't know. Feels normal enough for a group that's on 911's blocked callers list.

--

Techie: There is no future. There is no past. Don't you see? Time is simultaneous, an intricately structured jewel that humans insist on viewing one edge at a time, when the whole design is visible in every fact. Hyper: …All I asked was if you wanted to cut your birthday cake first.

--

Techie: Oh, so when crows remember people who wronged them and hold grudges, its “intelligent” and “really cool”. Techie: But when I do it, I’m “petty” and “need to let it go”.

(100% something she would've said at some point. Not even incorrect just definitely have been words she's spoken at one point or another lol)

--

Techie: You’re alive. Hyper: No need to sound so disappointed.

--

Thyme: Don’t worry, I know exactly what I’m doing. Everything is going to be fine! Techie: How can you still say that? Thyme: Because sometimes, when things get tough, denial is all we have.

(Oof, painfully accurate.)

--

the Squad cleaning up Thyme: Pick up the nearest piece of trash and throw it away. Techie, to Hyper: Aight, which bin do you wanna go in—

--

Techie: Alright, listen up you little shits. Techie: Not you Thyme. You’re an angel and we’re thrilled you’re here.

--

Techie: We all have our demons. Techie, grabbing Hyper: This one’s mine.

--

Hyper: BE A BETTER PERSON! Thyme: WHY?! Hyper: BECAUSE SOMEONE NEEDS TO HAVE MORALS IN THIS RELATIONSHIP, AND IT SURE AS FUCK AIN'T GONNA BE ME, SWEETHEART!

--

This feels like a good place to stop XD

#sod trio #wtdh hyper #wtdh techie #wtdh thyme

[kairoot]

be with you.

➪ Genre: Angst, Fluff

➪ Pairing: Pirate!Seonghwa x M!Reader

➪ Warnings: Homophobia, Swearing, Mentions of kissing. Use of lowercase! Mentions of guns.

I just wanna say, I hope I’m not offending or making anybody uncomfortable because of this fic being a male reader fic. Honestly, making someone offended or uncomfortable is not my intention, I just want everyone to feel welcome to my account whether you’re a male, female, gender neutral, or whatever you identify as. So again, making anyone uncomfortable is not my intention at all, and hope you understand this!

06 november 1682

chores were always the hardest part of his day. especially when they stopped him from seeing the love of his life. seonghwa hated when his snob of a father, made him do such things after he had already cleaned and filled the guns with their supply of gunpowder, through the entire day. on top of that, he had to patch up the torn sails that had been shredded from past battles.

getting lost in his thoughts, seonghwa began to think about his lover. they weren’t exactly dating, but they knew they were in love with each other. his father always told him that y/n was a bad influence on seonghwa and that he should leave him alone, but hwa knew that wasn’t the reason. Captain Hong Myung-bak, of The Black Crow Raiders, also known as seonghwa’s father, had always been against men having a ‘soft side’ or liking the same sex. he didn’t want his son getting too close with another male, like he was with y/n.

seonghwa’s mother, on the other hand, always told him that no matter what gender he liked or who he wanted to be, she would love him the same. and that’s why he was given her last name instead of his father’s. naturally, seonghwa had always been close to his mother, ever since he could remember. he tried bonding with his dad, but all he ever got in return was his father shutting him out. even when seonghwa volunteered to go on missions with him, he would grumble about seonghwa being too soft or not ‘man’ enough. eventually, he gave up and stuck by his mother’s side, figuring life would be easier that way.

seonghwa once had a sister, but she ran away at a young age. she was older than him by about 5 years, so when she left seonghwa was still a bit young. seonghwa never really knew why she left, but if he had to guess, it would be because of their father. he noticed that when they were younger, his sister also got shut out by the captain. she would ask if she could join him on missions or help with hunting, just like seonghwa, but the captain would yap about how girls or women can’t be pirates. who’s rule is that? seonghwa thought.

he often thought about her, wondering where she could be in this large, but small world. but for now, he was stuck with his nagging older brother, myunghwa. hong myunghwa was the “favorite child”. well, for his father. of course myunghwa was close to his mother, but not as close as he was with his dad. he had been the child who was ‘manly’ enough to join his father on dangerous journeys. he had been the child who made his father ‘proud’ because he never shedded a tear, never got too close to another male, and never went against certain things his father did or said.

pushing him out of his thoughts, seonghwa felt a small hand on his shoulder. he let out a small gasp, but it was only his mother. there she was, smiling softly up at her boy. park eun-ji was a small, petite lady with gentle features. (side note from seonghwa: don’t let her “gentle features” fool you, touch her flowers, and she’ll have you on the ground in no time.) she had shoulder length hair, that once grew past her waist. some gray strands here and there, but most of it was still it’s natural color.

grabbing seonghwa’s hand, she stopped him from scrubbing the glass he had in his hand. “mom, what-“ he began. she moved him to the side, beginning to scrub the dishes herself, “i’m saving you. go see him while you can.” seonghwa quirked an eyebrow, “go see who?” scoffing, eun-ji smiled, “trust me, i know my children. you seemed to be in deep thought.” seonghwa scratched the back of his head, heat rising to his face. he hadn’t realized his mom was watching him. “well, don’t just stand there! your father’ll be here any minute!” she whisper-shouted. eyes going wide, seonghwa ran to his bedchamber, slipping on his boots, before dashing to the door. he stopped and walked over to where his mother stood. he gave her a soft kiss on the cheek and ran out the door, yelling an “i love you”.

getting halfway down the pathway, hwa was stopped. “where ya goin’? hope it ain’t to that boy’s.” his older brother stepped away from the gun he was cleaning, walking towards seonghwa. he took a step away, feeling intimidated by his much-larger sibling. “n-no. i was just going for a walk. needed some fresh air after my chores.” myunghwa snorted, “good. ‘cause y’know pops wouldn’t be too happy about that. right?” gaze now averted to the ground, seonghwa nodded. when he watched myunghwa walk away, he took the chance to continue on his journey.

arriving at his destination, seonghwa approached the small cabin slowly. the area was filled with fog and the air felt cool. he noticed all the lanterns had been blown out, which was odd. as his steps became quicker, he became concerned just as fast. before he could reach the doorframe, a figure pounced onto his back. playfully, of course.

“jesus, y/n, what are you, insane?! you almost gave me a heart attack.” seonghwa complained, but eventually broke into a smile. y/n laughed at the younger’s scolding. all joking aside, hwa wrapped his arms around him, shedding a few tears. “i missed you. so much.” rubbing his back, y/n nodded, “i missed you so much more, honey.” taking a step away from his embrace, y/n wiped away the stray tears pouring from seonghwa’s eyes. he patted his cheek gently, telling him everything’s okay. “you wanna visit the water? for the first time in forever?” y/n asked him.

before seonghwa was practically banned from y/n’s, they both used to go on boat rides together. hwa always told y/n that the water calmed him. the sound of the waves crashing and just the sight itself. plus, he grew up on the water, so why wouldn’t it be on the list of things he loved? they had deep talks about any and every thing. seonghwa would often vent and y/n would listen. he knew that y/n usually wasn’t the type to talk about himself. he claimed it was because he’d rather know about seonghwa, but he could read y/n like a book. y/n’s parents died when he was younger, so he always took care of himself. there was no nearby family to help him. he’s the type of person who thinks they can handle their emotions on their own, seonghwa had often thought, when they met.

finally looking him the eyes, seonghwa answered, “i would love to.”

a/n: this will most likely be a mini series, so be on the look out for other parts!

#ateez #park seonghwa #ateez mini series #ateez seonghwa #ateez x reader #male reader #ateez x male reader #ateez x y/n

[two-red-lungs]

Player of Games

Eddie Munson Drabble

Content: Implied reader/Eddie, DnD shenanigans, fluff

Summary: Sitting nearby and spectating one of the Hellfire games can almost be as fun as playing them. Especially when you know exactly how the combat encounter is going to end.

Word Count: 1157

“Why isn’t your girlfriend playing with us this time, dude? College make her too cool for us?” One of the newer Hellfire club faces asked, looking at Eddie, who was perched up on his seat behind the DM screen.

Without even looking up, Eddie waved a hand in my direction, focused on his notes. “The good lady has sided with the foul Beholder. She knows too much.”

I dropped my copy of Startide Rising from my eyes, reclined on one of the Hawkins High play set pieces in our nook behind the stage. “He’s saying I helped him prep the combat for this encounter. Can’t play if you’re a co-conspirator.”

Over his screen, Eddie winked at me. Like a grand maestro directing an orchestra, he slowly lit the candles on the table, tension rising… and then he began the session right where they had left off. Backstage lights dimmed. All attention on him.

Munson was a performer for sure. It shone even when he was off the stage: he was always at 110 percent, twenty-four seven. His lips wove seas of sound and story, gestures sending candle flames aflutter, spinning rapt illusory webs of high fantasy that ensnared his players. It was enchanting to watch from the outside.

Incredibly geeky, but enchanting.

“...King Terevin gives a wave of his hand, and the massive iron gate begins to slowly lift with a click, click, click.” He punctuated every onomatopoeia with knuckles against the wooden table. He spread his fingers. “The gaping maw of darkness stretches wide in front of you, our brave guild recruits. You hear the thunk, thunk, thunk of heavy, wet flesh, scraping across the stone. And then,” Eddie rose in his seat, holding clasped hands out over the board, “lumbering out into the light of the fighting pit, the crowd roaring in your ears—” He dropped the hulking miniature onto the graph paper map, “—Is a titanic, club-weilding, undead flesh atronach!”

The table exploded into cries, Dustin grabbing Mike’s sleeve and shaking it vigorously. The players protested in fear and Eddie gleefully rolled out the enemy’s stats: twenty feet tall, level ten, boasting 220 hit points. He spat the facts over the cacophony.

“A creature of infamy and legend!” Eddie crowed. “Known throughout the king’s lands, older than the stones that built the very fortress it’s imprisoned in! Your most dangerous foe yet.” He rubbed his hands together and pointed at the players. “Alright. Roll for initiative.”

I made steady headway in my science fiction novel as the table thrummed with action nearby, voices echoing off the high theater ceiling. Spells were cast, blows were struck. Poor Mike’s new elven sorcerer got his shit rocked, down to two hit points and barely avoiding getting reduced to a smear of blood on the cobblestones. 

“I click my Sidon’s boots of speed, doubling my speed, and use my full movement to get…” One of Eddie’s players said, counting on his player sheet. He was pretty new. Only sat through three sessions, with three wins under his belt. It made him cocky. “Fifty feet to the side. Then I use my fast movement feat—” The other players groaned, protesting him leaving the formation, “—to take a dash as a bonus action, adding fifteen feet.”

Eddie slowly moved the player’s mini across the board. As he did, he looked out under his fringe of hair at me. “Congrats, man.” His eyes never left mine. “You’re now flanking the atronach.”

I pressed my lips together to keep from smiling, hiding my face in my book. Remembering the conversation we had had last night. My grin would be a sure-fire giveaway to the players.

Ten-thirty PM, pouring over the monster manual, trying to come up with some contingency plans to throw roadblocks in the group’s way. Eddie bit at his nail, looking at the stats sheet. “I don’t wanna pad the atronach’s health any more than we already have. I mean, I’m known for my epic TPKs, but that’s just cruel.”

“You’ve basically custom-built a killing machine NPC, Ed.” I reminded him, painting the last finishing touch stitch on the miniature. I set the tiny brush down on Eddie’s crowded desk. “You gotta use it. They’re leveled enough. But maybe you can put some, like, secret rules in place.”

He rested his hands on his hips, looking over at me. “Like what?”

I shrugged, blowing on the mini. It was perfect. Ugly, undulating waves of flesh. “Like, uh… the party’s rogue. The new-ish guy? He always thinks he’s a solo act, right? If he breaks away from the safety of the party, punish him for it. Hold the atronach’s legendary actions until he does.”

A slow, broad grin began to crawl across Eddie’s face. “Oh. Wow. You’re kinda evil. I like it.”

He was giving me the same look now, a night later, fingers moving away from the rogue’s miniature. Did I feel good about basically sentencing the cocky player’s favorite genasi player character to death? Yes. No.

Maybe a little. 

“I use my secondary action to throw my poisoned daggers at the flesh atronach, using my cloak of shadows to get stealth damage.” The player dropped a die onto the table. “That’s an eighteen, plus a mod two. Dirty twenty to hit.” He sat back in his seat, arms folded, smug. Far too confident for a rogue with his actions all burned up.

“That’s a hit.” Eddie smiled back just as smugly. He paused, dragging the silence out. Everyone was waiting for him to describe the crippling damage. “...But. Your genasi releases the dagger, and they spin into nothing, clattering to the floor.” He snatched the mini off the table, and the chorus of protests started to rise. “The atronach’s glowing jewel embedded in its chest flares, and suddenly it’s gone. It uses a legendary action—” The chorus became a myriad of shocked shrieks, “—and teleports right next to Sir Endon the Rogue.”

The player’s face dropped. 

“He raises his twisted, mighty club, and brings it down…” Eddie paused to roll dice in his tray behind his screen, resin clattering against felt, “... for thirty-eight damage—”

“Dustin, your spare the dying spell!” The player shrieked in dismay. “Use spare the dying!”

“You’re not in range!” Dustin poineded wildly at the board, spittle flying “You moved way outta range!”

“—plus ten prone damage. That’s fifteen negative, right? You know what that means.” Eddie continued on. He dropped his face into the flickering candlelight shadows, and with a flick of his fingers, knocked the player’s mini over. “You…” he murmured darkly, “are dead. Reduced to a soup of blood and viscera, splattering the arena.”

The player was flabberghast. The other players ooohed at the sight, hooting. The rogue’s player face twisted, and he stood up, chair screeching. “Man. Seriously? Really?”

Eddie bowed his head. “The school of defeat in brutal, but a swift teacher.”

“Shouldn’t have broken formation, man.” Mike said.

“Whatever. God, ugh. Whatever. I’m going to the vending machine. Gonna clear my head.” With that the hellfire club member stormed off into the shadows, a beam of hallway light cutting across the theater as he pushed open the theatre door in a huff.

“I want a root beer!” I called to his retreating form as he left.

“Dos root beers, por favor!” Eddie tacked on. He shot me a secretive grin, lips all quirked up on one side, and I shook my head, smiling down at my book. He took far too much pleasure in this. 

Teamwork makes the dream work, right?

“Now.” Eddie turned back to his remaining mid-combat with a devious, dark smile on his face. “Where were we?”

#rules lawyers dont come for me I've fudged half the stats for story purposes #stranger things #eddie munson #mike wheeler #hellfire club #my writing

[daisylore-au]

He should say hi to Karl first, start with people he likes

TASK 2.1: KARL. Make the right dialogue choices and you’ll give George the best Christmas ever! You might even save some people’s fates without even knowing it…

George elbows his way through the crowd to bump arms against Karl, who grins at him brightly. His eyes are more grey than he remembers them being, but his hoodie is, as usual, brightly coloured: Christmas themed, with an ugly knitted penguin in the middle.

“I got you a Christmas present,” Karl says cheerfully, “Sapnap and Quackity and me have a bet to see who’s gift you like most.”

“Obviously not Sapnap’s,” George sniffs haughtily, “his gifts are bad. Let me see it.”

Karl laughs, and pulls out a festively wrapped present. It’s big, awkward, and holds promise of something expensive. George’s eyes gleam as he reaches for it.

“Not so fast!” His friend crows, holding it just out of his reach and shuffling neatly around Angel, who hurtles past screeching in delight to get to Michael, arriving with Tubbo. “You’ve got to answer the Christmas question to get it right. Santa’s rules.”

“Santa—” George begins, before pausing. He can’t exactly say Santa isn’t real when he’s surrounded by nine year olds. Karl giggles. “Okay, this is dumb. Ask me your stupid question.”

“Okay.” Karl’s eyes lock onto his. “You’re hiding something from all of us. What is it?”

George freezes. His heart skips a beat.

“I’m not gonna press you if you don’t wanna talk about it,” his friend continues, “a little trust would be nice, but it’s up to you.”

K1 -> TELL KARL THE TRUTH. (send K1)

K2 -> TELL KARL A LIE. (send K2)

#> daisy lore: christmas event

[sapphireginger]

Title: I Can’t Drink or Think Straight!

Summary:

“I’m soo gay, so gay, so gaaaaaay. I’m so gay, what can I say!”

His friends laughed and just shook their heads at him.

Prompt: “I Love You, You Idiot.”

Warnings: Alcohol

Fandom: Teen Wolf & Marvel

Relationships: Stilucky [Stiles Stilinski + Bucky Barnes]

Word Count: 

@mfbingo​

I’m so gay, I can’t even drink straight.

Stiles got a rainbow mug from a sex shop with that phrase and proudly drank from it. 

“I’m soo gay, so gay, so gaaaaaay. I’m so gay, what can I say!”

His friends laughed and just shook their heads at him. 

He shot each of them a smile. “What? You all know it’s truuuuuuuue!” His phone rang and he checked to see who it was. He was a bit tipsy as he answered. “My boo!” 

“You’re drunk, babe.” 

“Uh huh. B-But. *hic* Guess…Guess what?” he said with a giggle. 

“What?” the other man asked, his tone giving away fondness. 

“I’m gay. Shhhh.” 

“I would hope so, love. You’re engaged to me after all.” 

Stiles gasped. “My boo is my fiancé!!” he crowed. “I gotted a mug boo! It says, I’m so gay I can’t *hic* even drink *hic* straight!” Stiles giggled and his fiancé sighed. 

“Where are you?” 

“Guess?” Stiles demanded. He didn’t notice one of his friends texting his fiancé the address. 

“I’m on my way.” 

Stiles pouted. “You didn’t guess.” 

“I’m sorry, love. I’ll make it up to you.” 

“Yeah?” Stiles breathed with a soft moan. “How?” 

“You’ll have to wait and see. It’s a surprise.” 

“A surprise?! All for me?” 

“All for you, sweetheart.” 

Stiles giggled and a dopey smile formed on his face. “You’re the best, Bucky.” 

“Thank you, love.” 

“Like the very *hic* bestest ever in the whole entire *hic* wide entire world. Wait! The entire galaxy!” 

“I don’t know about that, love.” 

Stiles smiled. “You are. Remember I’m *hic* stubborn. So, you just have to deal with it. You won’t change my mind.” 

“Well, I love you anyway.” 

“Yeah? You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Sure about…?”

“I love you, you idiot.”

“Hey! I’m super *hic* smart!”

“You are, love, just a bit drunk huh?”

“Mmmmaaaaybeeee? Are you mad?”

“No. You’re adorable.” 

“Well, you’re the best, pretty, cute, gorgeous and you’re all miiiiiiine!” Stiles crooned. 

"Yes. All yours, handsome." Bucky was smiling as he took the elevator to the top floor and made his way to the apartment.

Stiles's friend opened the door when Stiles's fiancé knocked, and in walked the one and only James "Bucky" Barnes. He couldn't help chuckling when Stiles continued talking to the phone while looking at him with a dopey grin on his face. Bucky supposed they would not be going out for their anniversary after all, but he didn't mind a bit. They could celebrate at home, in pajamas, with takeout and a movie just as easily. He knew exactly which movie too. 

"Come on you."

Stiles grinned. "Hi. Oh! Wanna a drink?" he asked, offering his mug.

Bucky chuckled and shook his head. "Not now. One of us needs to be sober for the drive home."

"'M sorry," Stiles mumbled, rubbing his cheek against his fiancé's chest. "Bad Stiles."

"No. It's all right, love. Come on. Let's go home."

Stiles looked up at him and pouted. "You can have a drink to make up for it?"

Bucky paused at the elevator and glanced at Stiles. "Hmm. How about a kiss instead?"

"A kiss?!" Stiles exclaimed with a gasp. "Yes, please but wait, I have alcohol breath."

Not caring about such a thing, Bucky leaned down to kiss Stiles with a soft nip to the other man's bottom lip and then tugged it. When he pulled back, Bucky was satisfied with the wide eyes of his fiancé and how he already looked so perfectly ruined. Perhaps he would add some smexytimes—Oh goodness Stiles was rubbing off on him—to the agenda for tonight once Stiles had sobered up more.

The elevator dinged and the two men got on. Stiles leaned closer and kissed Bucky's cheek. "Thank you for coming *hic* to get me and for *hic* loving me."

"Always, love," Bucky said softly, loving this softer and sweeter side of Stiles though he did prefer it when Stiles was that way from being sleepy rather than drunk, but Bucky loved every part of Stiles and wouldn't change him for the world. That was what it meant to love someone after all. 

#mfbingo #square filled: I love you you idiot #teen wolf #marvel #stiles stilinski #bucky barnes #bucky x stiles #stiles x bucky #stilucky #fluff #drunk stiles stilinski #adorable stiles stilinski #engaged bucky barnes/stiles stilinski #alcohol #multifandombingo

[bad-rper]

we walkin’ here

"Land ho!"

"Whaddya jus' call me?"

A quick exchange, punctuated by an oversized goblin being shaken from the crow's nest, plummeting onto the schooner’s deck below. The sound of wood and bones cracking didn't bother the horizon-watching bard. He was too enraptured in the sounds of the waves slapping up against the hull, the clear waters reflecting vivid skies, and the gradually growing image of the docks in the distance. The excitement had even drug him out of his near-manic compulsion to scrawl in his sketch journal.

"You sure you wanna jump off there?" the boorish voice was now upon him, sticking a cigar over his shoulder to wiggle it at the landmass on the crest of view, "Ain't lookin' like much, 'sall I'm sayin'."

"Aye, that's exactly it!" the spritely bard spoke up, "Was by the drift that we got here, dude!" He clasped the sketchbook in his hands, slamming two pages together riddled with one phrase: 'MIRROR OF THE WORLD'. "If I'm going to catch up to her, I can't be on any set path or destination, get it?" He emphasized by tapping his temple.

The piratess scoffed and clicked her tongue over the stogie's end. "Yeah, well, do whateva as long as you don't forget our deal, got it? Write it down in that li'l book o' yours somewheres." She gave him an admonishing glance, "Still can't believe you don't remember sinkin' THREE of the SEA WOLF's ships wiff one barrel o' treacle. Let alone..." Her fangs bared with an inwards seethe, pounding a fist loudly against her chest, "Breaggin' my fuggin' heart 'ere, Bluebird."

With a grin, U gave a casual little wave with said sketchbook. "Ah, c'mon! Do I look duPLIcitiOUS? I'm a little guy! Just a friendly birthd--" Suddenly, the book slipped from his fingers, cartwheeling towards the deck before Wydlin's hand snatched it from the air.

The tiniest sensation of cold formulated in his frontal lobe, as if a snowflake dropped upon his forehead. Shortly following blotches of darkness ebbed and flowed into his vision, a thin cloud before his eyes. Yet, just as sudden as it crept in, thus it slipped out. No prising of his limbs or autonomy, no ominous or maddening whispers, no pain or agony--if anything, what was left behind was a comforting warmth. Nostalgic, even.

"Yo! Rest of that bozo brain o' yours eat it there, Bluebird?" she barked into his face, painfully nudging him in the ribs with the corner of the book. "I'm talkin' to you 'ere!" Continuing to get in his face, she waved her fat hand before his vision, "Shit, this ain't good..."

Golden eyes fluttered back into the cool, salty breeze of reality. "Hoy? Wha--? Nah... Nay... It's all still in there." After collecting his senses again, he snatched the book back and gave another wiggle at her with it. "ACTually," he grinned shooting a wink at her as he bounced back onto the gunwale with a grip around the shrouds, "Could not tell you why, but I think things are looking up!"

Puffing out into the breeze, the smoke cloud hit her face, revealing her expression ill convinced. "Yeah, whateva ya say." Cigar tight between her teeth, she muttered between her fangs while she walked back to the bow, "Ain't much lookin' up wiff who you's after."

"That mook still goin' after one'o'dem sistas, bosscaptainlady?" asked the goblin who had just finished peeling himself off the boards, rubbing the side of his head, "Think it could be...?"

"Nah, that'd be stupit!" the crass corsair flagrantly rebuked, giving the man a swift kick back to the ground. "Y'know what the boss said! And that'd be too fuggin' convenient--an' nuttin's too fuggin' convenient!" She flicked her cigar behind her as she walked away, landing it just barely between the fallen man's legs as she scoffed, "Fuggedaboudit! Now git back to cleanin' my pool."

On the ground, the goblin bellowed out a guttural sigh, "Yeeeeas bosscaptainlady..."

#writing #U #Wydlin Gyreeye #i know the gifs not a schooner shut up pirate nerds

[maris-medley]

Random Wren Infodump (BTC AU character)

Note: Honestly didn’t think I’d be making a post like this but jfc thoughts of Wren and BTC Springtrap are consuming my thoughts,,, so much,,, god I love them. But since I’ve barely talked about her, I doubt anybody who’s read the Messing With Remnant oneshots knows what I’m talking about SOOOOO I’M MAKING A POST ABOUT HER HEHEHEHAHAHAH

This might all end up kinda messy because I don’t really know how to organize posts like this so.. bare with me here please. 🧍‍♀️

Also!! Keep in mind—just in case the title was confusing—BTC IS NOT MY AU!! THIS IS AN AU OF THE BTC UNIVERSE, WHICH IS AN AU BASED OFF UCN BY THE LOVELY @skeletoninthemelonland !! ALL THE BTC STUFF I MAY MENTION IS OF THEIR CREATION WITH MY ONLY REAL ORIGINAL WORKS BEING MY LITTLE SCENARIOS/ONESHOTS THAT I WRITE BASED OFF IT AND MY OCs RIVER AND WREN!! THATS IT!! IF YOURE INTERESTED IN BTC GO SUPPORT SKELETON (STARBS) NOT ME!! <33

Anyways yeah uhhhh again I really don’t know how to set up posts like this so I’m probably just gonna start listing things off about Wren now until I run out of things to say that aren’t spoilers. 💔

And feel free to send asks if there’s anything more you wanna know!! :)

***

First off I need to get my River-related thoughts out of my system so I will say right now that River is NOT gonna like Wren at first. Not one bit. There’s a lore reason for why exactly that is which I can’t say much about yet other than the fact that she generally just has an… aversion to people who’ve worked for Fazbear Ent. that she can’t really explain (because she doesn’t remember exactly why she hates it and its employees or what led her to hate it), but regardless of how much—or rather how little—she holds a very deep-seated bias against them. And… yeah. She recognizes most of the characters in the Backstage as Fazbear characters, but the one she’s always known the least about (nothing at all, in fact) was Springtrap. Sooo… yeah…

And Wren’s just gonna be sitting here absolutely dumbfounded at all the dirty looks River will give her and be like “????? Motherfucker WHAT DID I DO????” and River will just not explain at all cause she doesn’t actually know her reasoning and also just likes to irritate her and Springtrap anyways. Just… Wren more so than Springtrap.

OKAY NEXT THING UHHH SO WREN IS A VAMPIRE BUT NOT IN THE WAY ONE WOULD EXPECT!!!

She does not evaporate in sunlight!! Much like the original interpretations of the vampire, she actually just gets really bad sunburns really easily. So it’s lucky for her that the Backstage doesn’t have a sun!

Not only that!! She also isn’t completely immortal! She can slow the aging process (she died at around 40-ish btw), but uhh she still died eventually regardless of what she did… but luckily for her (or at least that’s how she’d think of it), she didn’t pass on in quite so “boring” a way!!

Yeah no she got stuck with the lethal injection when she got found out for eating people… yeah…

Her job as a Fazbear employee didn’t pay very well so she figured she’d be able to get her blood fix by doing a side gig killing people for money.

On top of all that!! You guys remember the pfp below right? Well that’s her!! Except, that’s not actually what she looks like. 🤨

Art by @/way1past1cool on Insta btw! Follow him. 🫵

But yeah she does NOT actually look like that LMAAOAOAOAOAO

She dyes her hair and wears color contacts because this is for some reason what’s viewed as “conventionally attractive” in the U.S., which she uses to appear more “likeable”. As a result, she doesn’t have very great self-esteem, especially when it comes to her ACTUAL appearance… :,)

Her hair is actually black!! And her eyes are a hazel/gold-looking color!! She is pretty regardless of the form she takes tbh. 🥹

Which reminds me!! She can shapeshift! But only into certain things and for a certain amount of time (which isn’t very long tbh).

Animals she can turn into include: bat, cat, and crow.

Yep! That’s it!

She can also change her size/height, similar to the way Nezuko and other demons do in Demon Slayer. But again, only for a short amount of time, as she uses up a lot of energy doing so.

And she actually LOST most of these abilities when she passed on. The only reason she can still do smaller things like turn into a bat and change her height, is because she was always more “spirit” than human, even though she mostly WAS human. Which I know doesn’t make any sense when I explain it that way but I don’t know how else to explain it. 🧍‍♀️

The easiest thing I can compare it to is the human-fae situation, where it’s allegedly possible that some people are naturally more in tune with spiritual stuff because of their ancestors potentially having relations with fae folk.

Not saying that definitely happened btw!!! I just think the idea is really funny so I’m gonna say one of Wren’s ancestors was an Energy Vampire (actual thing) who got with a vampire-vampire because I think that’s silly. ☝️

Admittedly I ignored the issue of genetics and stuff when I first created Wren due to the fact that she was originally made as a joke so some of her background as a vampire might change at some point tbh. 😭

Anyways (yes there’s more), despite her background, Wren’s actually a very sweet person! She’s nice to pretty much everyone, and just comes off as a little… odd sometimes because she’s always sleep-deprived, and she’s never really been very good at concealing her emotions (and she’s almost always pretty sad 🥲). She doesn’t know if people are oblivious cause they’re weirded out by her or if they just don’t say anything about it, but she’s not gonna ask.

SPRINGTRAP THOUGH

She feels most comfortable around him and River (even though River kinda hates her to her core at first 😔).

However, once River inevitably gets used to her, their relationship will be pretty similar to that of River and her mother/Wren and her daughter.

Oh yeah forgot to mention Wren’s daughter is dead and already fully moved on like a really long time ago whoops. 💔

However, because neither of them remember the specifics of their past lives, their attitude towards the feeling at first is kinda just like:

“On second thought I guess I’m bored of hating you you’re kinda chill :)”

And Wren never disliked River, she just always found the hatred/passive-aggressiveness really strange so she kinda just tried her best not to irritate her because she kinda ALREADY felt bad for doing something wrong (even though she had no clue what she even did).

But yeah, once River kinda gets used to her being around she’s randomly gonna be like “you’re okay I guess… I’m not good with apologies can we just like- watch MLP or smth-”

(Wren’s favorite of the mane six is Applejack btw. If you even CARE /lh)

As for her relationship with Springtrap… well, based on the art you can probably already tell she has the absolute worst taste in men (Mari is projecting).

She won’t really fall for him IMMEDIATELY when she meets him though buuuuuut she’ll get attached pretty quickly. 💀

ESPECIALLY considering he and River are probably like the first people she’s ever met that wouldn’t actually care that much if they knew she was a literal monster.

In fact, I love to think Springtrap would be utterly BAFFLED at the idea of Wren of all people being self-conscious about how she looks and just say some shit like “???? No offense but???? Can you even see me right now????? Do you need contacts????? I can make you glasses?????? Because???? I am a 7-foot-tall walking corpse??????”

I can’t get into specifics, but let’s just say their first encounter will be somewhat similar in nature to his first encounter with River, whereas he’ll try to frighten her into staying away from him. Except, unlike River—who KNEW that was what he was doing—Wren will not understand at all; she will NOT get the hint until super far into the story and randomly think “…oh. he was mad at ME. i- wow.”

ALSO unlike River—who just kinda follows Springtrap around because she’s secretly afraid to talk to anyone besides him or Tom—Wren will kinda be hopping back and forth between hanging out with them and interacting with the other residents because she wants to know all about this realm and how it works. :)

She and River are very similar in that their curiosity often gets the best of them, it’s just that River’s a lot worse at interacting with… normal people, than Wren is. 💀

Wren also happens to have a passion for engineering and mechanics!! However, that’s another thing she feels really self-conscious about; because although she’d gone to college to take courses, she was never actually able to get a job in the field because of all the interviewers’ sexist views.

So yeah, even though she KNOWS they were wrong, she couldn’t actually do anything about it and unfortunately had to settle for switching between entry-level positions at Fazbear Ent.

This is something she only vaguely remembers, so although she doesn’t know exactly WHY, she’ll often keep away from Springtrap’s stuff at first because although she’ll definitely be tempted to offer help, she’ll end up feeling really weird and icky about it without knowing why. :(

But on a much lighter note!! She’ll feel a LOT more comfortable with herself around Springtrap in particular, and although it doesn’t exactly change how insecure she is, she definitely enjoys herself a lot more around him and River (and Tom) than most other people. So even though she’ll be smiling and friendly with pretty much everyone, it’ll be like night and day when one compares her smiling around others and smiling around Springtrap.

“But how will Wren handle blood cravings when she arrives in Backstage and nobody has blood? 🙋”

Don’t worry about it.

(she’s gonna suffer in silence until someone finally notices she’s at her breaking point because she refuses to just walk up to somebody and be like “you guys know where I can find blood I kinda need to drink it to stay alive”)

As nice of a person as she is though, she is very okay with evil deeds and murder because she has stopped caring at this point. 👍

Aaaannnd I think I’ve run out of things to say for now BUT I ASSURE YOU THERES MORE!! I JUST CANT REMEMBER RN!! SO PLEASE SEND ME ASKS I’D LOVE TO RAMBLE ABOUT HER MORE AS WELL AS RIVER!! THEY ARE MY BABIES!!

#fnaf #behind the codes #btc #btc springtrap #five nights at freddy's #behind the codes springtrap. #springtrap #fnaf au #behind the codes springtrap #oc tag #fnaf oc #oc art #my ocs #ocs #vampire #vampire character #maribabbles #marimegaphone #tw cannibalism #tw sexism

[apparitionalprincess]

[ugly sobbing]

#guys I’m gonna fuckin loose it #I had this dream that I was in the passenger seat of a pick up truck #and cliff was fucking driving it????? plz #we were in some random field/pasture that felt oddly familiar #(which ima assume was a place I knew in a past life) #so cliff goes ‘which way?’ Bc we were at a cross roads #I said ‘that way’ and pointed towards this house #AND HE JUST STARED AT ME FOR LIKE 20 SECONDS WITH THIS KNOWING/LOVING(?) LOOK ON HIS FACE #HIS ENERGY WAS WARM AND UNDERSTANDING(??) LIKE AS IF HE KNEW ME FOREVER ALMOST #AND I JUST LOOKED HIM LIKE ‘?????’ #so he puts the truck in drive and we get to the house in the middle of the field #and again it felt too familiar for comfort #we go to the back yard where there’s strawberries in the little green basket thingies (you know what I’m talking abt) EVERYWHERE #so we’re just standing there shmackin on some strawberries???? #and it felt like we were waiting for someone to show up #then this bird pops up outta nowhere and just sits on cliffs hand? #he lets it happen too as if he was besties w the bird #I wanna say it was a crow but I don’t exactly remember #the bird hops off him on the table with all the strawberry baskets on it and comes towards me #it opens its beak and gives me something that I felt like was a nut #and I turn to cliff like ‘????’ Bc who is this bird and why a nut? #but before he can answer we hear someone come up behind up and I woke up- #CLIFF PLZ WHAT DOES THAT MEAN??? YOU CANT JUST DO THAT #mind you this was in broad daylight and the weather was warm but not super hot and again that place felt familiar #ANYWAY YEA IDK BUT THANKS I GUESS??? BUT ALSO WHAT DOES THAT MEAN #I WANT TO LIKE CRY BUT ALAS I HAVE TO GET READY FOR WORK

[searidings]

as a gesture of goodwill lena let's any of the superfriends ask questions and she has to answer as best as she can. she expects questions about why she turned into a supervillian and how she expects them to trust her again, however it takes about three minutes for them to start abusing this power. lena almost cries when nia asks why they can't just print more money.

“C’mon, Luthor. We’ve all done it. Now it’s your turn.”

Alex’s voice is slurred, and she’s leaning so heavily into Kelly’s side on the couch that she’s practically horizontal. Her cheeks are flushed – a byproduct of the obscene quantities of alcohol consumed thus far – but her expression is dogged, determined.

“Yeah!” Nia crows from the floor, allowing Brainy to prop her upright when she sways dangerously. “Come on, Lena, it’ll be fun. Five minutes of our questions and you have to answer honestly. Totally n’completely honestly.”

Lena blanches. “I’m not sure—”

“You gotta!” Nia half-yells, then seems to catch herself under Brainy’s disapproving gaze. “I mean, you don’t gotta,” she continues more quietly. “Only if you wanna. But s’good for us. It’s fun. Rebuilding trust. Open communication. S’right, isn’t it, Kelly?”

Kelly, the most sober of the group by a country mile, purses her lips. “I’m not sure this is exactly what I had in mind when I suggested trust-building—”

“We’ve got the spirit,” Alex mumbles into her girlfriend’s shoulder as Nia slaps Brainy’s thigh, grinning. “No, s’better.”

“I’m not sure it is better,” Kara mumbles from her position on the floor, leaning against the armchair Lena’s sitting in. Her cheeks are still beet-red, a lingering reminder of her own turn in the honesty hot-seat during which she’d admitted – under much duress – to having had a crush on Simba the lion during her adolescence. Simba the animated lion.

“You don’t have to,” she twists to murmur, chin propped on Lena’s knee as she stares up at her with earnest blue eyes. “Ignore them. You don’t have to do or say anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“No, it’s fine,” Lena says, to convince herself as much as the blonde currently tracing light patterns up and down Lena’s calf with her fingernails. “It’s just like truth or dare, except nobody will dare me to buy Fox News this time.”

She fixes Nia with a pointed look. The brunette at least has the good grace to look a little abashed.

“You already bought one media empire for a friend,” Nia shrugs, and there’s a pointed significance to her tone that Lena flatly decides not to acknowledge. “What’s one more?”

Lena ignores her, distracted by the way Kara’s head has lolled so that her cheek rests against Lena’s thigh. Her wandering hand has slid up Lena’s calf to cup the back of her knee, and Lena struggles to remember the point she’d been attempting to make.

“It’s all good,” she smiles down at Kara’s furrowed brow, aiming for reassurance and praying she makes it. “Since I’ve heard about Kelly stealing a McDonald’s sign in college and Nia accidentally texting lingerie photos to her boss, the least I can do is return the favour.”

She swallows hard, squares her shoulders. “It’s just a game.”

Just a game, just a game, she chants in her head as a constant reminder. She can handle a game. Even if it does require her own brutal honesty in front of people she’d once considered family but who, for a while there, had maybe almost definitely been prepared to kill her.

She bites the inside of her cheek hard, trying not to let her anxiety show. What the hell are they going to ask her? An awful lot of alcohol has been consumed tonight, and Alex and Nia in particular aren’t known for their tact and discretion at the best of times. Stomach twisting with nerves, she considers the sorts of thinly-veiled accusations that might come her way.

Why did you use Kryptonite on Kara? How do you feel about finally living up to the Luthor name? Are you planning on mind-controlling all of humanity again in the near future?

Lena digs her fingernails hard into her denim-clad thigh, trying to school her features into a semblance of open neutrality. Trying to fathom a way to get through this game with both her newfound oath of honesty and her fragile heart intact.

Kara’s eyes fall on Lena’s tensed fingers and she pries them out of the meat of her thigh, lacing them with her own and giving Lena’s hand a reassuring squeeze. Lena smiles weakly down at her as Nia sets a timer on her phone.

“Okay, five minutes on the clock,” the brunette slurs. “Go!”

For a moment, the room is deathly silent. Lena’s heart is in her throat, her stomach down somewhere around her ankles as she waits for the inevitable laundry list of her many sins to be hung out to dry.

One second, the only sound is the ticking of Kara’s ridiculously gaudy goldfish wall clock. The next, the floodgates open.

“Would you allow me to partner with you on L-Corp’s newest black-body radiation project?” Brainy asks at the exact moment Nia yells, “Will you take me shopping?”

Lena blinks, a little blindsided. Nia misinterprets her hesitance, backtracking so quickly her garbled speech is almost unintelligible. “I don’t mean pay for me,” she huffs at Alex’s incredulous eyebrow raise, turning back to Lena. “I just mean, teach me how to dress. You always look so good.”

“I, um. Yes?” Lena manages, smiling at both Nia and Brainy as her alcohol-clouded brain tries to catch up with the unexpected turn of events. Satisfied in the first round of questioning, the group winds up for a second onslaught.

“Who’s the most famous person in your phone contacts?” Kelly smiles at her. “Apart from Supergirl, of course.”

“Are you richer than Elon Musk?” Nia chimes in. “Do you sleep on a bed of money? Actually, do you sleep at all?”

“What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done while drunk?” Alex smirks. “Is it worse than the time Kara convinced you to sing N*Sync karaoke with her?”

“I should like to learn how to fence,” Brainy says solemnly, intertwining his fingers with Nia’s. “It is a complex and highly-skilled activity requiring both strategic planning and an excellent understanding of mechanical physics, in addition to athleticism. It is thus the ideal means for me to, as Nia puts it, get some bounce in my buns. Would you be willing to practice with me?”

“If I eat one whole salad, will you come with me to try the new waffle place on Third?” That’s Kara, of course, blinking up at her big and angelic. “And promise not to order the healthiest thing on the menu?”

Nia narrows her eyes, smirking as she circles round for another go. “Is that your natural hair colour?”

Lena does her best to parry the volley of questions with smiles and nods and gasped-out answers before the next request hits her like a missile. It’s overwhelming in the best way, to be the centre of attention for good, for once. The room is noisy and warm and every face around the coffee table is smiling at her and Lena thinks, maybe they’ll be okay, in the end. Maybe they’ll be okay, after all.

“Okay,” Nia drawls three minutes in, head pillowed in Brainy’s lap ever since she’d gotten too excited in her questioning and forgotten how to hold herself up. “You’re, like, a literal genius. If you can’t explain it to me, no one can.”

Kelly’s brow furrows. “I’m not sure this is the type of question—”

“No, I wanna know,” Nia huffs. “Leeeeeena, make it make sense! Like, why can’t they just print more money though? Then we could all be billionaires.”

Lena frowns. “I mean, economics isn’t my specialty but I’m fairly sure that wouldn’t—”

“But why not?” Nia insists. “Like, we can make money. We can just make it, so. Let’s make more.”

Lena glances helplessly around the room, but it seems she won’t be getting any support in this matter. Brainy and Kelly look too tired and/or drunk to be of any use in quelling Nia’s barrage of questions, while the Danvers sisters seem genuinely invested in hearing Lena’s answer.

“I think it’s a great plan,” Nia continues. “We just print money until we have enough. No more poverty. Yay!”

Lena winces at the incognizable logic, thanking God her college economics professor isn’t here to witness this trainwreck. “The price of everything would go up,” she tries weakly. “Inflation—”

“Okay,” Nia cuts her off, unperturbed. “But we create prices, right? We create markets. So let’s just, you know. Not.”

“Not?” Lena echoes feebly, despair mounting.

“Yeah,” Nia drawls, slapping her hand around blindly on the floor until her fingers find her beer bottle and she can take a long pull. “We made up money. We made up all of it. So let’s just, like. Un-make-up poverty. Print money for everyone!”

Lena’s mouth opens and closes hopelessly. She doesn’t even know where to begin. It’s so wrong, all of it, every single thing Nia has said. But she doesn’t have the slightest clue how to go about answering. At this point, she’s not even sure what the original question was. She’s not sure Nia is either.

Blessedly, Kara decides to once again utilise her almost preternatural ability to detect Lena’s inner turmoil, slapping a hand on the coffee table with finality. “No more money questions,” she only very slightly slurs, fixing her protégé with a firm stare. “You’re wasting all our time. Nia is banned from questions for one whole minute.”

She bangs her fist on the table again, a makeshift gavel. Nia pouts, slouching back into Brainy’s lap with a huff.

“I’ve passed my ruling; court is adjourned,” Kara says solemnly, pretzel crumbs shaking themselves free from her sweater as she addresses the room. “Someone else may take the stand.”

“Nia does not appreciate the personalised poetry I write for her,” Brainy sniffs, mock-glaring down at his girlfriend. “Lena, if I recite my most recent sonnet to you, would you tell me—”

“No!” Alex, Kara and Nia yell in unison. Lena shrugs apologetically as Brainy’s mouth snaps shut with a disgruntled click, his frown softening only when Nia reaches up to stroke a loving hand against his cheek.

“How much money do you spend on kale in a year?” Kara asks suddenly, eyes narrowed. “Is it more than my couch is worth, d’you think?”

Lena shrugs, and Kara’s face twists in horror. “More than the cost of my TV?”

Another shrug. Kara appears genuinely close to tears, eyes wide and lower lip trembling. “More than the cost of my apartment?”

Lena smiles and pats her cheek as Alex perks up, eyes gleaming. “Did you kill Morgan Edge?” she asks eagerly, drunkenness momentarily forgotten. “Is that why he just disappeared? Don’t worry, I promise I won’t tell anyone. In fact, I thought about doing it myself.”

Lena gapes, caught somewhere between laughter and outrage. “Did I—? No I did not.”

“Did Kara kill him for you?” Alex volleys without missing a beat. “And you’re covering for her? I swear I won’t arrest either of you. Scout’s honour.”

“You were never a Girl Scout,” Kara accuses, and Lena’s mouth drops open.

“That’s your problem with what she just said?”

Kara just shrugs amiably, scooting her way in between Lena’s legs so she can lean her head back in her lap, whining in the back of her throat until Lena reaches out a hand to card her fingers absentmindedly through her hair.

“Can you design me a suit that lets me fly?” Nia asks, ignoring Kara’s protests that her minute-long ban has not yet expired. “Not that I don’t love Supergirl piggybacking me home after a fight, but it would be way cooler if I could do it myself.”

“Um. I can try,” Lena offers, and the way the young woman beams at her makes her feel warm from head to toe.

The timer on Nia’s cell phone is ticking down, and with less than half a minute left Kelly leans forward suddenly, her expression gentle.

“I have a question for you,” she starts, and Lena braces herself. “What can we do to show you how much we appreciate you?”

Lena blinks. “I’m— sorry?”

Kelly’s lips curve up in a knowing smile. “I’m serious, Lena. I know it’s taken a lot for you to decide to work on re-strengthening your relationships with all of us. We’d have been lost without your help fighting your brother and honestly, we were all a little lost in general when you weren’t around.” Her eyes flick to Kara who nods emphatically, rolling her head to press a sloppy kiss to Lena’s thigh.

“Forgiveness and healing are a two-way street,” Kelly continues, and beneath the warmth of the therapist’s gentle attention Lena feels her eyes begin to mist over. “So, that’s my question. How can we make up for the pain we’ve caused you? How can we show you how much you mean to us?”

“Yeah,” Nia chimes in as Lena’s throat tightens against the hot sting of tears. “Do you have any inventions that stop people being stupid? Can you use it on all of us, so we never do anything that makes you want to leave us again?”

“How can I show you how sorry I am?” Alex asks quietly at the same moment Kara murmurs, “Do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive me?”

“We’re not trying to put any pressure on you,” Kelly cuts in, shooting a hard glance at both Danvers sisters who duck their heads in sync, suitably chastised. “You don’t have to say anything right now. But think about it, yeah?”

Lena nods because she can’t do anything else, throat closed over as she lifts her chin, trying to blink the gathering tears back into her lacrimal glands. The room falls quiet for a moment and the loving weight of the gazes fixed upon her is so overwhelming that Lena almost sobs in relief when Nia’s phone timer shatters the silence.

“Aw, nuts,” Nia pouts. “I had one more question!”

Sensing the way Lena stiffens, Kara shakes her head. “Nope. Finito. Adios, amigo.”

“But it was a really good one,” Nia complains. “I swear.”

“Nia, you’ve had your—” Kelly starts but Nia’s already yelling over her. “Can I hug you?”

Her earnest gaze roots Lena to the spot like a deer in the headlights and she’s barely nodded her acquiescence when Nia is rocketing unsteadily towards her. “Pile on!” she yells and the next thing Lena knows five pairs of arms are looping their way around her in various uncomfortable-looking contortions. Alex rests her chin on the crown of Lena’s head, Nia and Kelly taking a shoulder each while Brainy contents himself with patting the back of Lena’s hand comfortingly.

Kara has all but climbed into her lap, knees straddling Lena’s thighs as she presses her face to the crook of Lena’s neck, breath ghosting hot over her skin. The entire configuration is stiflingly warm and objectively uncomfortable and Lena’s pretty sure she has someone’s knee making a home in her kidney and at least two separate arms pulling painfully on her hair, and she’s not sure she’s ever been happier.

“Missed you,” Nia all but drools against Lena’s shoulder, head lolling as unconsciousness beckons. “Love you.”

Lena’s throat tightens again as the others repeat the sentiment, disembodied hands stroking over her hair, her back, her shoulders. She feels like the world’s most pampered house cat, petted and patted to within an inch of her life, and she’s just drunk enough that she never wants the sensation to end. Maybe she’ll start purring.

“Yeah,” Kara mumbles straight into Lena’s skin, her voice vibrating through Lena’s body and settling somewhere hot and deep. “Yeah. Missed you, Lena. Love you,” she hums, quiet and close. “I love you.”

Lena doesn’t know if the others overhear Kara’s whisper. In this moment, she doesn’t know anything at all, anything that exists outside of the blissful weight of Kara’s body atop her own, of Kara’s strong hands moulded tenderly to her hips, of Kara’s lips pressing warm and deliberate to the underside of her jaw.

Lena’s brain has vacated the premises entirely, along with her capacity to convert air into useable oxygen. Rendered immobile by more than just the five bodies pressing her into the armchair, she tugs one trapped arm free to fist tightly in the front of Kara’s sweatshirt.

One of Kara’s hands vacates its position on her hip and pries her fingers free only to intertwine them with her own and squeeze tightly, and somehow the gesture feels like even more of an earnest declaration than her words had.

It feels like a chance. It feels like a promise.

Lena squeezes back.

“So,” Nia slurs next to her ear and Lena jumps. She’d momentarily forgotten they weren’t alone; an impressive feat considering her current bottom-of-the-hug-pile position.

Nia’s head lolls on her shoulder, her eyelids fluttering shut. “Not that this isn’t an adorable moment,” she drawls as she pats Lena’s cheek clumsily, and Lena almost loses an eye to her flailing fingers. “But are we gonna talk about how I just solved world poverty, or…?”

#this was supposed to be nothing but light and funny #BUT I'VE BEEN DRINKING MY LENA LUTHOR NEEDS A HUG JUICE OK NOBODY LOOK AT ME #i blame all the angsty stories and edits going around today #not me jonesing for a superfriends resolution/reunion with lena so hard that i had to mould this prompt into the perfect opportunity myself #anyways thanks for the prompt even if i did tie myself up in emotions in the end #hope you're having a great day #asks #anonymous #dings dot txt

[weskerluvr69]

trade with @palletdrop <3 this was so much fun to write

-

You’ve been in the entity’s realm for so long you’ve gotten to a point where you feel relieved seeing one killer over another. Trials with the Trickster are more bearable than most because if you play your cards right, you can get him to talk about himself and easily get out of there. 

Unfortunately, you’re not in a match with him. You’re in a match with the Spirit.

You hate going against the Spirit. No, not just going against her. You hate her in general–with a passion. All her stupid noises and her stupid fast phase-walking, the fact that she’s never merciful and goddammit you just can’t ever escape when it’s against her! 

You’re not even five seconds into the trial when you hear a “WAH!” in the distance, and you can feel the stress lines forming on your forehead. Do you really wanna deal with this right now? 

No. No, you don’t. With your mind made up, you make your way to the closest locker and decide to take a page out of Dwight’s book. You’ll wait there until the entity tells Spirit where you are, and then you’ll die on hook. Easy as pie. You’re sure your teammates won’t mind too much. Not like they’ll last that long, anyways. 

You open the locker door and step inside, a little confused by the lack of space. This is a much tighter squeeze than you remember. Is the entity suddenly on a budget? What’s with the smaller lockers?

“Hey there, sweetheart,” someone purrs next to you, and you scream. The mysterious man quickly covers your mouth, muffling your cries for help. “Shh, sh. You don’t want Rin to find us, do ya?” He doesn’t sound mad, almost... Amused?

You finally recognize the cocky tone of voice. After a few seconds of silence, he removes his hand from your mouth and slowly trails it down your body. 

“...Ghostface?” you ask, and the little laugh you receive is enough answer. You almost didn’t recognize him without his leather gloves on. 

“No need for formality, babe, we’re not in trial. You can call me Danny,” he says, and you can practically hear his grin.

“I am in trial,” you answer flatly. “Wait. There’s already a killer! What are you doing here?”

Is the entity trying to spice things up? Hiding other killers in lockers seems like something it would do... 

“Well, I kinda forgot to head out when I heard the alarm sound off,” he says casually. 

“That doesn’t explain what you were doing here in the first place. Don’t killers have their own base?” you ask. 

“So many questions, doll!” Danny laughs. “We don’t have too much time left alone... Why don’t we spend it in a better way, hm?”

The flirtatious tone makes you pause. “Huh?” you say, like a genius. 

Danny cups your cheek and your body betrays you by leaning into his touch. His thumb traces in small circles as he hums to himself. “The entity’s little spies are getting ready to snitch on your location as we speak. We can have some fun in the meantime before the party’s over.”

“Are you crazy?” you ask incredulously, face heating up at exactly what he’s implying. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it,” Danny whispers, his hot breath on the back of your neck making you shiver. Wait...

“Are you not wearing your mask?” You try to turn and look at him, but Danny quickly grips your chin and holds your head in place.

“Ah, ah. You don’t wanna ruin the surprise, do ya babe?” he teases. The fact that he has the audacity to bite your neck answers your question. 

You close your eyes and fall back into his chest as he continues press messy kisses down to your exposed shoulder. He uses his free hand to slide up under your shirt, fingers just barely graze your skin, his touch making you jump. 

Still gripping your jaw in place with his thumb and ring finger, Danny pushes two fingers into your mouth unexpectedly. You make a noise in surprise, but quickly understand that he wants a show. 

You’ll oblige, but only because it’d be really boring if you didn't. Or at least, that’s what you’ll tell yourself later when met with inquisitive teammates.

You run your tongue along the pads of his fingertips, then slowly start to suck on them. Danny lets out a sigh, and you even hear a muffled curse under his breath. 

“If only these lockers weren't so damn small,” he says, voice low. “What I wouldn’t do to see your pretty lips wrapped around my cock.”

You make a face at his crudeness, but you can’t deny that his words are making you feel hot all over. When you insistently press yourself into him, he chuckles and removes his fingers from your mouth.

“No peeking,” Danny sing-songs.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes but close them nonetheless. As Danny slowly tilts your head to face him, you find yourself inching closer impatiently. 

You’re so close to him you can feel the cocky smirk at your neediness. 

“I’ve wanted this since I first saw you, babe,” he says. 

You can’t tell if he’s feeding you a line or if he's actually being genuine, and you don’t really care either way. 

Danny turns you fully so you’re both chest to chest, and finally presses his lips against yours. There’s nothing chaste about kissing Danny Johnson. He takes control in every sense of the word–his hands are everywhere on your body as if he can’t help himself, he’s rough and it’s messy and you’re both making obscene noises that are most definitely alerting the Spirit better than any crow could ever. 

He bites down on your lower lip and pulls teasingly, making you moan. You breathe harshly from your nose and reach your hands up to grip any part of him but he stops you, gripping your wrists tightly and pinning you against the doors of the locker.

Then, the worst thing that could possibly happen, happens.

The locker doors swing open, someone grabs you and throws you over their shoulder. 

Oh yeah. You’re in a trial.

Your eyes fly open as you immediately start wiggling for your life, and the last (and only thing) you see of Danny is his hand playfully waving goodbye as he shuts the locker.

#ghostface x reader #danny johnson #dbd ghostface #the entity is a cockblock... but I'm not 😈 if there's enough love on this I'll write another part <3 #doc wife writes

[helliontherapscallion]

Who? (Forlorn Tale of Dionysus Part 2)

Part 1

Warnings: Swearing

Word count: 2,843

(A/N): I’m not exactly sure if this will continue any further, this was just a fun little thing I had in my drafts for a while after some interesting convos in my discord server (which you totally should join, it’s a vibe). This is lowkey word vomit, but eh. This is all strictly platonic btw

“Michael, are you sure you saw a house out here? I really don’t think-” You were interrupted by your much shorter friend yanking on your sleeve to get your attention. You looked down at him in question and watched as he raised his hands.

‘I am sure I saw that house, (y/n)! It is here somewhere.’ 

You fiddled with the sleeves of your thick coat with unease, “alright, but if we don’t find it soon I wanna head back. Uncle Boo and Uncle Tubbo are probably going to start to worry.”

Michael huffed at the mention of his parents. You knew how overbearing they were, causing your friend to crave new experiences and adventures. You’d known him for a couple of years now and he was rebelling more with each passing day. You could relate slightly, Philza and Technoblade had hardly let you out of the house without another person to accompany you. You never really understood why, you were almost thirteen now so you should be able to explore what you want. 

An excited squeal left your friend’s mouth before he started to pull you towards something in the distance, startling you out of your trance. You matched his pace with ease and felt nervous excitement tingle in your chest. 

As you got closer, you could make out small details of the cabin. It was a simple small cabin built out of spruce planks with glass windows and a brick chimney, but you liked it. It strangely felt homey. 

You pulled Michael into a nearby shrub underneath a window and peered in. The interior was also as simplistic as the outside was, looking untouched and tidy as if nobody was living there. You could see that the ceilings were taller than average, perhaps a hybrid of some sort lived here? 

Michael tapped your shoulder, ‘it doesn’t look like anybody’s home right now. Let’s go in.’ 

You opened your mouth to object before the sight of his set jaw and his eyes dead set on something inside made you close it. You learned from experience that when he was this determined, there was no stopping him. You sighed, “fine, but the second we get caught, it was your idea.” 

You both made your way to the front door. Without a second thought, Michael twisted the doorknob and swung the door open. A startled snort left his throat as he stumbled inside, making you put a hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter. He jabbed the side of your lower torso, ‘shut up, I thought it was going to be locked.’

He pulled you inside and you both explored the living room. Bookshelves and portraits lined the walls, a single large couch sat off to the side, and the fireplace mantle was lined with a few small golden hooks. Michael made a beeline towards it, admiring the metal. It seems that’s what he saw that made him so determined to get inside. You hoped that he wouldn’t steal them and explored the area further. 

The portraits on the walls were a slight shock to you, they all included some people that you could recognize; in one you could make out a picture of younger versions of Ranboo, Philza, Technoblade, and Niki. Technoblade and Philza were sparring with shining golden swords while Ranboo and Niki sat in the grass on a hill watching with interest. Maybe this was just one of their old cabins? 

You saw people that you didn’t recognize as well. Namely a cat hybrid with striking sapphire blue eyes, a man seemingly human (you say seemingly because your eyes caught sight of pointed ears) wearing a white bandana keeping his jet black hair out of his face, a tall man with green freckles and a creeper mask, an anthropomorphic diamond block with beady black eyes and a wide smile, and a man that looked strangely like Ghostbur except he was wearing a uniform of some sort. However, a demon quickly caught your eye and made your heart leap for joy. There was someone out there that was like you! 

The man looked kind, always wearing a cheery smile and occasionally waving at the camera. He was tall and lanky, always towering over the others by a considerable amount. That made sense, Philza had told you that demons were naturally very tall when you asked him why you were growing faster than Michael when the zombie piglin was two years older than you were. Large wings and horns akin to yours sprouted from his back and head respectively. If he wasn’t constantly smiling, you would’ve thought that he was malevolent. 

You heard the rapid footsteps of Michael’s boots behind you as you turned around. You bounced on the balls of your feet excitedly, “Michael look, another demon! Do you think he lives here?”

You watched as he shrugged and pulled you towards the kitchen. ‘I don’t know, but look! There’s another demon that looks exactly like you!’ 

On the kitchen table surrounded by various trinkets (bottles of wine, gold bricks, stale bread, and the decomposed remains of flower crowns and bouquets being the majority of the items) laid a framed picture of said demon lazily smiling and looking off to the side. Michael was right, they looked exactly like you except at least a decade older. Everything matched your physical features to a tee; from the red accents on their black wings to the way they smiled, it was like they were your clone. The only thing of yours that they were missing was the three circular birthmarks on your forehead. It was eerily uncanny. 

Your eyes widened before you snatched the picture off from the table, studying them further. If you squinted, you could see that there was someone barely in frame. You flipped the frame around and took out the picture, unfolding it. In the picture was your adopted father and adopted uncles and aunt. What was going on? If they knew the demon, why didn’t they ever tell you about them? 

‘Woah, that was smart. Do you think you might be related to them or something?’ He tilted his head before he perked up, ‘could they be one of your biological parents?’ 

“Maybe, but if they were, why didn’t my dad tell me about them? I… have a right to know about them, right?”

He nodded firmly, ‘you definitely do. It’s kind of fucked up they haven’t told you anything about them.’ 

“Yeah, it is. Do you think something bad happened to them?... Oh shit, is this a memorial?” You hurriedly refolded the picture and put it back into its frame. 

Michael’s eyes widened and flickered around the table at the trinkets before he fished out two gold bars from his pocket and placed them onto the table. You crossed your arms, “what the fuck man?” 

‘I thought they wouldn’t miss a few pieces of gold! You would’ve done the same thing if you were a piglin,’ he defended himself before he paused and shuddered, ‘we’re in a dead person’s house, that’s creepy… What if their ghost is right behind us?’ 

You spun around and put yourself slightly in front of Michael, your heart beating in your throat. Nothing was there. Michael snorted, making you slap his arm, “not cool, man.” 

You were about to stomp off until a piece of paper caught your eye. It was a drawing of this person done in messy purple crayon, probably done by a very young child. It was signed by a Michael. 

You turned to the wheezing zombie piglin and patiently waited for him to stop laughing. When he did, you showed him the picture, “did you draw this? Did you know them?”

He scrunched up his brow in concentration, squinting at the paper. Eventually he shook his head slowly, ‘I don’t think so. At least I don’t remember drawing it… This is getting weird.’ 

You nodded in agreement, putting the drawing back onto the counter. You walked towards the stairs and climbed them. They creaked under your foot loudly, a part of you was scared that you would fall through them. It was clear they haven’t been used in some time. 

They led to a small loft, the ceiling coming to a point far overhead. A part of you was glad that this stranger (relative? Parent?) was a demon, it wasn’t often that you found lofts that fit all six and a half feet of you. 

Like the rest of the house, it was very simplistic. A gigantic bed laid in the center of the furthest wall, made neatly with multiple fluffy blankets, part you was tempted to catapult yourself onto it. On the nightstand next to it sat a redstone lamp and a frosted glass of water, cracks spider webbing up the sides presumably from the cold. 

You opened the lone drawer and discovered a book. Upon further inspection, you discovered that it was a journal with the name (y/n) written inside the cover. So this person had your name as well as your looks? This merely raised more questions than answers, so you slid the book into a pocket in your coat to read later. Under the book laid another picture of them posing with the strange group of people from the portraits downstairs. The de- (y/n) looked younger there. On the back, the word family was written and it was dated to be about twenty years old. You also pocketed the picture.

Michael walked over to the window and looked out at the vast tundra only to squeal in alarm. He ran over to you and pulled you downstairs. You looked out the window only to yelp when you saw a few crows standing on the window sill staring at you with their beady eyes. 

You and Michael ran out of the house as fast as the both of you could, the snow being slightly tough to run through for the five and a half foot tall zombie piglin. You could hear the crows following you overhead. After a while of running, you both finally got back to Snowchester and raced past Ranboo and Tubbo. You hid in Michael’s room with the curtains tightly drawn. 

You sat on his bed with your legs crossed and your back pressed up against the headboard. You let your head bang against the wall and you ran your hand down your face. “We’re fucked, dude. We’re literally so fucked.”

‘Uncle Phil’s still out of town so it’ll probably be a few days until they find out.’ Michael plopped next to you, panting and trying to regain his breath. “Still, we’re gonna be in so 

much trouble for going that far out. I didn’t think my dad’s crows were still here.”

‘Might as well read the journal you found before we get grounded.’

You nodded and took out the journal, flipping it open to the first page. You both read the journal until it was dark outside and Michael was passed out on your shoulder. Subconsciously, you wrapped your wing around him as you read the journal. 

The other (y/n) acted like you did for the most part, the only differences between you two was the lack of swearing and the fact that they felt alone even when they were surrounded by people. Your family’s names were dropped several times, especially when they were talking about ‘The Syndicate’. The code names they used were after various Greek myths, leading you to believe that Technoblade was one of the founders of the anarchist group. 

You had learned that their family (potentially your family?) was strangely possessed by an egg and that they were previously possessed by said egg. They had a brother named Sapnap (your potential uncle?) that helped them escape to the tundra. It was there that they found the Syndicate, reminding you of the found family tropes you would read in books. The last journal entry detailed their last mission, how they were going to destroy the Eggpire from within and get their family back. That entry in particular gave you chills, even someone with half a brain could tell what happened to them after that. 

By the time you had closed the book, it was dawn and the sun was peeking out from behind the closed curtains. You shook Michael awake and stretched out your aching body. Your neck muscles protested movement, sending a wave of pain across the area. 

‘Damn, did you stay up all night reading that?’ 

“Of course I did, why wouldn’t I? I needed to find out about my biological parent somehow. I just- nothing makes sense, Michael.” You growled out, your voice deepening and distorting slightly as your frustration rose. 

‘Chill! You’ll figure it out soon, let’s just focus on staying under the radar.’ 

“Too late for that.” 

You both jumped and fell off the bed as you heard Philza’s voice. In the doorway, Philza stood with Ranboo, Tubbo, and Technoblade by his side, all looking equally angry and disappointed. Next to you, Michael shrunk in on himself and smiled sheepishly. He was about to raise his hands to sign, but a pointed look from Tubbo next to him told him that there was no getting out of this one. 

Behind the anger, you could tell that something changed about the way the four were looking at you. You couldn’t tell what emotion they were hiding, whether it be wariness, longing, sadness, or just more unleashed anger, but you could tell that they knew something you didn’t. If the frustration that overcame you when you were reading the journal at the lack of questions answered burned inside of you, then what you felt now was a blazing inferno. 

“We’re going home, grab your stuff (y/n).” 

After a short staredown with the older man, you huffed in anger and gathered your things into your bag. The entire time, tense silence filled the room. Your hands were shaking with the rage you felt searing every inch of you. You could hear the sharp flicking of your pointed tail cutting through the air and occasionally hitting objects near you. 

When you were done you stomped over to your adopted family and shouldered between Philza and Technoblade, speed walking down the hallway. They quickly caught up with you after saying a quick apology and a goodbye, Technoblade grabbing your arm and holding it in a vice grip. 

They led you out of the mansion and into the harsh winds of the tundra. It wasn’t until Snowchester was far off in the distance that Technoblade shook your arm, “what the hell were you thinking, going into someone else’s house like that! You don’t know who lived there, you could’ve gotten yourself and Michael killed!” 

“You really thought I wouldn’t find out, didn’t you?” You ripped your arm out of his hold and spoke in a low voice, struggling to contain your full rage. “I have a goddamned right to know about them.” 

“...I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Philza muttered out and resumed walking back towards your house. “You’re grounded when we get back, no flying or dueling lessons for two weeks.” 

“Of course you know what I’m talking about, Dad! Why are you hiding them from me? I have a right to know about my biological parent even if they’re dead!” 

They both halted in their tracks and glanced at each other in slight confusion. “What-”

“You know damn well who I’m talking about. Gods, I can’t believe you thought I’d never find out,” you laughed sardonically as your hand subconsciously gripped your growing horn. “(Y/n)! You know, the demon that lived in that house? The one that looks exactly like me?! Does that ring a bell or do I have to show you this?” 

You rummaged in your pocket and ripped out the picture, shoving it into Philza’s hands. Technoblade looked over his shoulder at what you gave him. You watched as their expressions turned blank when they saw the demon in the picture. 

Minutes passed with them continuing to stare down at the picture and you were slowly getting impatient. “Why did you never tell me about them? Why are you keeping me from them?!” 

Without looking up at you, Philza mumbled, “you weren’t supposed to find out about them. You were never supposed to find out.” 

“Do you have any idea how ambiguous that is? Just tell me who they are!” You could feel your eye twitch as your frustration grew. 

You could see the internal conflict on Philza’s face growing by the second before he dipped his head downwards and stalked off in the opposite direction of the house. You spread your wings to chase him in the air, but Technoblade’s hand on your upper arm stopped you from lifting off. 

When you looked up at him, the look of regret and sorrow etched into his features caught you by surprise. “Let him go, he needs to do some thinking… (y/n), do you know what reincarnation is?”

General taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@crybabyjabby  @izzybobizzy13  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @bunnyz-pxstel  @averytiredfanfictionwriter  @dcml04  @sparkling-gayyyy  @bbigbbrainn  @thaticecreambish  @kiinokochii  @satansphatass  @bxkubitch @bxmentchildxx  @roxy3457  @montygator17  @feverish-dove  @the-fictionwriters-hairdo  @jichuuchaeng  @404rynnotfound @luluwinchester  @laura--444  @the-cult-classic-bitch  @youngstarfishdinosaur  @nottheotheruser  @ohworm-writes  @localwolfanon  @realitycanbeajerk  @v10dw4lk3r  @esylwen  @seraphsema  @boiled-onionrings  @smolgreenybeany  @louistommosnesquickmilk  @hyacinthrosearsha  @ryxjxnnx  @autumnpleaves  @ravennightingaleandavatempus  @0ton1n  @self-righteous-dumbass  @a-simp-for-block-people  @fortunatelylazystranger  @m1lkmandan  @mirios-sunflower  @ahmya-4  @shinipii  @noyasblush  @auroraskyfall  @cryptocry  @hee-hee-haw  @blackstar-gazer 

Gender neutral reader taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@totem-awooga  @parkeepingparker  @whatislifebutlemons

#michael_beloved x reader #technoblade x reader #philza x reader #dream smp x reader #mcyt x reader #tw: swearing

[manikas-whims]

Shadow & Bone, The Crows & everyone's complaints

So now that I'm on my 2nd watch of the show, I wanna speak on certain things about the Crows in the show, which have made many people mad and some of which I didn't like either..but which I can still see as tying up with the canon.

⚠ Spoilers for both the Books & Show ⚠

Here we go:

• Kaz accepting the 1M Kruge job

Now ofc we all remember the book Kaz who bargained with a Mercher and raised his prize to 30M. But Leigh, Eric & the Crows Cast has been pointing out since day one that these aren't the same people we know from what we've read. This is a sort of prequel to those characters and just them figuring out their dynamic with each other.

Remember, the book opens with Inej saying Kaz is a feared man in the Barrel without hesitation, she introduces herself as the Wraith who can't be stopped even by gravity on certain days and Jesper as the amazing sharpshooter and charmer.

Now as a new reader, I found that chapter sort of funny because how are you claiming all this without showing me their process of becoming these formidable people? But as I read through, the thought that inded these are 6 dangerous outcasts, settled in my mind.

But before that 30M job, they must've had many smaller conquests too right? Ones which slowly built-up their experience, confidence and relationships.

Since this is a prequel, consider this as another day in their Barrel life, as them going on another of their regular jobs. And just think of this as a learning experience for Kaz. That its the dangers that they got into travelling to a different country that made Kaz learn his and his crew's worth. And prepared him for the negotiations he did with Jan Van Eck in SoC.

• Kaz brought to his knees by Pekka

While Kaz being bested by two mere lackies of Pekka was kinda annoying to me as well, why do we believe that Pekka can't harm him or the others? PEKKA ROLLINS WAS THE BARREL KING BEFORE KAZ.

Remember on the Ferolind when Oomen tells them he was ordered by Pekka Rollins to take down the Dregs? They all were shocked and somewhat worried. And it was brought up later on when Jesper said they were going against Pekka Rollins and Wylan explains for Matthias sake how Pekka is not to be messed with.

It was only Kaz who wasn't concerned at all, who consoles Jesper by saying Pekka is just another Barrel Boss.

And what were we even expecting Kaz to do when Pekka brought him to his knees? Didn't Kaz express in the books enough how a simple beating won't make it up. He promised to take his revenge in small steps— building up his gang, stealing customers from Pekka's clubs, etc. BRICK BY BRICK.

So Kaz can be brought down to his knees too. And Pekka can easily do it if he wishes so. But no one wants outright Gang Wars; Pekka because he is far more experienced and knows when and where to put pressure or when to let go of a job. He even advices Kaz to forget Inej and drop the idea of going against a Mercher in SoC last chapter, because it is a foolish thing to do.

And Kaz wouldn't want gang wars because he knows the Dregs aren't big enough to face the whole of Dime Lions. Besides he already plans to bring down Pekka brick by brick.

But no one threatens Kaz Brekker, so consider this "on his knees" scene as a set up and another reason for Kaz to strike back and pay back tenfold.

It will also serve as an amazing parallel if we get to see him make Pekka beg on his knees.

• Kaz and Inej are too obvious

Are they? Haven't they always been like that when in each other's company or when around the other Crows? So of course they're expressing alot in front of Jesper.

But note that there are was no incident in the show where Kaz expressed his slowly developing feelings in front of his enemies, namely Pekka. In fact all Kanej moments happen only between them or in Jesper's presence. So there's nothing wrong with that.

Are they too obvious? No. As I said before and as we all know Kaz and Inej ALWAYS share deep conversations whenever together even in books— "i will have you without armor", "i would come for you", etc.

So show Kaz telling Inej "no saints have watched over me like you.." was not much different from their canon alone conversations.

Have they shown too much already? NOT AT ALL.

We only saw Kaz putting the Crow Club on collateral but his reason behind it wasn't shown at all.

We only saw Inej kill a man to protect Kaz. We don't know why she chose to kill for him. You can't immediately translate that to love. It can very well be considered her trying to pay back because he saved her from the Menagerie.

Remember in Crooked Kingdom Chapter 4, Inej says: "their lives had been a series of rescues ever since, a string of debts that they never tallied as they saved each other again and again."

So consider these moments as their endless back and forth of saving each other.

*Another thing to note in the show is when Inej gave her knives to Kaz. She says: "as a friend once said".

She has started considering Kaz a "friend" and she knows he feels the same way even though he won't say it. They're only starting to open up and give way to friendship. And not just Kanej, Jesper too.

People can care for and have each other's backs without it having a romantic aspect. The show gave the viewers a peek at what Kanej are willing to do for each other and showed that there's obviously sparks flying but no clear motto. We still didn't see Kanej's first encounter at the Menagerie or Kaz staring at Inej sitting on his window. These are just small moments to set up the ship.

• The Crows only there for comic relief

NO. I don't agree to this at all.

I'm gonna go back to SoC Duology. Now we know both the books have a sort of a dark setting. But both of these books also had hilarious moments.

Right in Chapter 2 of SoC, Jesper joking about spelling with his bullets and Kaz joining in on the joke. There's also the "this whole shoot me thing is starting to worry me". Inej & Kaz's banter about "greed is your god".

Almost every chapter had atleast one moment that was either comical or to lighten the mood or just straight up banter between the Crows. And all those moments were all always entagled with serious ones.

The show did exactly the same. We were given their crime life because they were after all, on a job to capture and sell off a person. But the show lightened it by adding the Crows banter and certain comical moments. And for the finishing touches, they sprinkled in some vulnerability.

• Kaz not being ruthless enough

I AGREE. I DO.

What the fuck is wrong with us all wanting a sinister man being ruthless? 😂

There's not much I can say about this but that even in books, Kaz isn't always ruthless.

He is mostly giving out orders and scheming schemes. But in those rare moments in the book when we get to see Dirtyhands, we are given a view into some really intense moments.

When Kaz dislocates a man's arm in the Ice Court Prison, he himself admits it that he didn't do it as much to make himself look intimidating to the other criminals but more to remind himself that he can do it, that he isn't some helpless man.

The only such thing we got in the show was the brief scene between Kaz and that Inferni where he had that scary look on his face as he crushed that inferni's arm and slammed his face.

WE DID DESERVE MORE OF THAT.

But maybe it was a good moment to set him up for more violence in the coming seasons. *crosses fingers*

• The Crows not stealing from Alina

Okay whilst Inej wouldn't do it, Jesper may only consider, Kaz would definitely do it!

Remember Kaz kazually conversing with Van Eck and Pekka but also stealing their stuff in those moments with his slight of hands?

Yeah, the showrunners had a perfect chance at the end to do it but they missed it 😐

This is probably the one thing that I'm unable to settle with 🤧

So..that's it!

I don't want everyone to agree with me but I hope everyone can be a little less aggressive and more kind to the show. It was still amazing, if not a proper adaptation then at least good as a standalone show. And the showrunners already did say "high budget fanfiction"

#shadow and bone spoilers #six of crows #shadow and bone #the crows #kanej #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #crooked kingdom #grishaverse