#I was holding them at arm's length and it sounded like someone was shouting from them. my ears are still ringing @ _ @

[royalarchivist]

I pulled up the award show VOD because I wanted to watch at least a little bit of it before I went to sleep, and I was curious to see just how bad the audio was since I saw Retro make a tweet about it being scuffed, and Oh Boy. She Was Not Kidding.

#mod talk #TBD #I was listening to one part where it was so quiet I set my volume to 100% #and then it VERY ABRUPTLY went to max-volume #I've never yanked my headphones off that fast #I was holding them at arm's length and it sounded like someone was shouting from them. my ears are still ringing @ _ @ #I hope they were able to figure things out eventually... I bet that was really stressful for everyone #Poor Quackity but also poor chat and poor viewers #This might be a rare time where I wait until the VOD is on Youtube to watch it. Sorry guys! I'll do clips later #I just physically cannot deal with abrupt audio changes. I have sensitive ears

[obxone]

I've Got You

Edited-ish. ~1.7k words

Another JJ centric scene pulled from OBX with reader inserted. OBX is not owned by me, obviously. So enjoy!

“Oh!” JJ declares loudly as you all stare at Pope and Kiara going off in John B’s boat. You giggle, leaning back against his chest, and his arm hooks around your waist. “All right.”

Sarah waves at them. “Have a good time!”

JJ laughs, his chin resting on your shoulder as he watches John B. “There he goes. He jacked your boat, dude.”

“Pope’s poking on the Pogue,” John B muses while you laugh and Sarah shouts encouraging noises after them.

“Leave them alone,” you chide them. “It was bound to happen with us four paired off.” You reach back to cup the side of JJ’s face. His lips press to your palm, and you smile.

JJ’s hand slips inside your t-shirt, and his palm presses against your skin, the heat from his touch grounding you. His lips brush the curve of your neck, and you know exactly what he wants. “We should probabl-”

“Wait, wait, wait,” John B shushes him. “Wait, wait.”

JJ looks in the direction John B is, his touch pausing from tracing up and down the line of your waist. “What?”

“What was that?”

You and Sarah look at each other, and you can feel the shift in the atmosphere as John B switches to being alert inside of partying.

“Your chicken?” JJ suggests.

“I heard a car door,” John B answers. Sarah looks toward what John B is, and you start to ease out of JJ’s hold, but he clasps his arm tighter around you and starts clucking like a chicken. John B reaches out, his hand covering JJ’s mouth.

“It’s someone,” you rush out in a quiet voice after you hear the sound of faint footsteps. “Someone is coming.”

“Okay, come on.” JJ’s attitude shifts immediately, and John B scrambles to put out the fire.

“Where? They took the boat,” you whisper quickly.

“Up, up there, now,” JJ mutters, shoving you towards the tree. “Come on, Baby.” He braces his back against the tree and laces his hands together for your foot. You hurry forward, bracing your hands on his shoulder and foot in his hands as he lifts you. You climb into the tree and turn back for Sarah as she does the same. Her gunshot wound makes it harder for her to get up as you help pull her into the tree, and then John B follows.

“Hurry, JJ!” You whisper harshly, reaching for him. He scrambles into the tree and onto the branch with you. His body crowds you back against the safety of the trunk. Your hands tighten on his arm and waist. “It’s Rafe.”

He nods, squeezing your thigh as you tuck your legs closer to his waist and out of sight. His fingers squeeze again before rubbing up and down the length of your outer thigh.

Rafe steps into view, and your breath catches in your throat. Your nails bite into JJ’s arm, but he does not cry out. Instead, his grip on your thigh tightens while the other stays braced against the tree. His ocean eyes burn when he turns his attention to you, trying to reassure you silently.

You nod, closing your eyes and dropping your head against his chest before opening them to see Rafe pacing below.

Rafe’s voice filters up to you all. “Where the hell are you?”

JJ’s lips brush your forehead, and you squeeze your eyes shut when the sounds of the Chateau being ripped apart echo from the house.

“Shh,” he soothes you.

“Yo!” Rafe yells as Barry storms off the back porch. “Anything?”

“No, ain’t shit in there, bro.”

“No? Nothing?”

“No, nothing, Rafe.”

“There were obviously just here based off the smoke, man!” Rafe points at the extinguished fire pit. Your anxiety spikes and rips through you until your hands find JJ’s, fingers lacing with his.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah!” Barry retorts back. “Great observation, boy scout.”

“They’re not far, you know?” Rafe’s annoyance spikes and it is reflected in his tone.

They begin to argue. Both are pissed that they cannot find anyone.

“Smokey the Bear! Look at you, bro!” Barry snaps back at him.

“They gotta be around here somewhere.”

You inhale sharply, spotting the gun in Rafe’s hand now. You bury your face in JJ’s chest while Sarah shifts to look at John B in alarm. What if Kie and Pope came back sooner than you were expecting? What if Rafe just happens to look up and see you all?

“P4L.” Barry states.

Rafe laughs, pointing to it. “Well, shit.”

“So your sister and ex-girlfriend are Pogues for life, huh, Rafe? Now who would’ve thought?”

Your gaze snaps to Sarah, and she immediately shakes her head at you that she is fine before her worried gaze flickers to John B.

“Shit!” Rafe screams, throwing his body into the scream. Sarah and you both flinch, and you press closer to JJ. The angry screams of your ex-boyfriend stir up the twisted feeling in your stomach.

“All right, chill.” Barry tries to back him off, but he is too far gone as he lifts the gun and shoots the tree where John B’s name is burned into the wood. “Hey! Whoa! Hey, chill, bro! Rafe!” Barry rushes forward to grab the gun and lifts his arm as he fires several more bullets. One hits the tree branch right where you are, and you immediately shift away—JJ’s body covering yours. “Chill your shit! Chill out!! You’re gonna get our asses busted, dawg! Let’s bounce. Let’s bounce. Let’s go!”

Barry blocks him for a moment, backing him away from the tree before he runs off. You know Barry’s type; he is not staying long enough to wait for cops or neighbors, so Rafe has to run after him. JJ leans over to look at the tree, and you hiss when his hand brushes your thigh.

“Ow, shit.”

“What?!” Sarah turns around to look as he pulls away his fingers to see blood on the tips. “She’s shot.”

You shake your head immediately, your head spinning at the thought of being shot.

“No!” JJ rushes out, panic seizing you all before his shirt comes off and he presses it to your thigh. “No, it just grazed it.”

Your chest heaves as you try to focus on trying to see if you can get your head to stop spinning while he holds his shirt against your skin.

“It’s okay, Baby, it’s okay,” he murmurs, his other hand cupping your jaw. “Look at me. Hey, look at me!”

You do, lifting your chin, and your eyes lock on his panicked gaze.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you. Okay?”

You nod, hand pressing against his on your thigh. “You’ve got me.”

“That’s right,” he offers a tense smile in relief that you are not spiraling as you have in the past. “I’ve got you.”

“How bad?” John B asks, shuffling around to look at your thigh. He leans over as JJ pulls his t-shirt away to show a deep graze against your thigh.

“Half a centimeter over, and she would be shot,” JJ breathes, his thumb skating over your jaw. “But we’re fine. Just a little blood.”

“Just a little blood,” you repeat after him, nodding to try and keep yourself calm.

Sarah moves around, and you feel her hand brush the hair back from your forehead. “Do you think he’ll come back?”

“Eventually, yeah,” you respond. You knew this Rafe well. “But it’ll be a little bit. Barry won’t let him come back just yet after firing that many shots.”

“So we can get her bandages,” Sarah says, looking at John B and JJ. “Right?”

“Right,” JJ agrees, lifting his shirt to see it still bleeding. He looks at John B, who is hesitating. “I’ll go if I have to.”

You cling to JJ, hands wrapping around both his wrists. “No.”

He lifts his head to look at you. “You’re bleeding.”

“I don’t care. What if he tries to shoot you?”

“They are gone, Baby. You need a bandage.”

“No.”

JJ groans before turning to John B.

“Sarah and I will go,” he says quickly, and you start to open your mouth to object, but he is already climbing down with Sarah following. You wince as JJ presses harder against the wound.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper quickly. “I’m really sorry this is happening to us still.”

JJ shrugs but still watches you. “Your safety is worth everything to me. I love you, okay?”

You lean in and press your lips to his. He kisses you back before pressing his forehead to yours. “It still sucks.”

“Hey,” Sarah calls up to you both. “We’ve got the bandages. John B thinks we should stay in the tree until Kie and Pope come back.”

“Agreed,” JJ states, watching you with worry. There had been too many close calls with Rafe for him to put you at risk anymore. You are his, and he refuses to let you go.

Sarah and John B are back in the tree before Sarah hands JJ the bandages.

“Careful,” she warns him, and he nods, focusing on removing his shirt from your grip. You glance at John B, his worried gaze flickering around the edges of the backyard.

“We should try to sleep in shifts tonight,” you murmur, looking at JJ again. “At least until Kie and Pope come back with the boat.”

“Agreed,” Sarah seconds quickly as she turns to John B. “Right?”

“We’ll pair off together.” John B agrees, reaching for Sarah.

She takes his hand as he guides her onto the thicker branch he sits on. They nestle together back against the trunk while JJ soothes the edges of the bandage to your skin. He brushes his fingers over the bandage one final time before looking at you.

“Switch spots with me?”

“How?” You laugh a little, looking around. He quietly guides you around him until his back is against the tree trunk, and you are against his chest. His lips brush your temple. “I don’t think I can sleep if I’m being honest.”

Sarah nods in silence, and John B frowns. JJ’s arms tighten around your waist, and you all silently agree that sleep is not on the agenda for any of you tonight.

--

Feedback is welcomed, just remember to be kind. Please feel free to like, reblog, comment, or send an ask if you want. Happy Reading.

#obx #outer banks #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #obx jj maybank #outer banks jj maybank #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x y/n

[kingkatsuki]

cockwarming gamer bakugou. that’s it. that’s the ask.

He’s got your tits pressed straight up against his chest, your thighs on either side of his hips, his arms weaved around you to hold onto the controller as he rests it against the curve of your ass. The buttons like muscle memory has you rest your head on his shoulder, dangerously close to his headset as he takes the opportunity to shout at Denki for fucking up— again.

“How fuckin’ hard is it to hit the target? I could do it with my eyes closed.”

“I’m sorry,” You could hear Denki whining on the other side of Bakugou’s headset, “The last zombie freaked me out and I dodged.”

“Fuckin’ idiot.” Bakugou mumbled beneath his breath and it made his chest rumble, making you shiver against him.

“Come on, man. I’m doing my best.”

“If this is your best I don’t wanna see your fuckin’ worst.”

Every time he raises his voice it has his hips shifting and his cock brushing against your spongy walls as you can’t help but clench around him. His hands tightening around the controller as the plastic digs into your ass. Knowing that if he does want he wants to do and thrusts up into you, you’ll make those pretty noises he loves to hear but everyone on the call will hear them too.

“It’s okay, Denks. We’ll get it next round.” Kirishima sighed with a stretch as the splash screen began to load the level again in the background with all their lives refilled.

“I mean, you could’ve easily made that shot, Dynamight. If you didn’t wanna just be the hero.” A new voice sounded on the other side of the headphones as you tried to decipher who it was. You knew Sero was missing game night this week because of work, and you’d hoped that meant that the entire night was cancelled— hoping to drag Bakugou out yourself as he had the night off work.

“Improve your hero ranking and then you can criticise my gameplay, Grand.” Bakugou almost spat his name as he rolled his eyes.

Shindou Yo was playing?

“Who even invited you anyway? Thought we were supposed to be getting a replacement for Sero?” Bakugou scoffed.

“Yeah, you told me to find someone good-” Kirishima began, the faint sound of button smashing heard in the background.

“And you brought fuckin’ Grand?” Bakugou let out a raspy laugh at this, clearly amused at the situation. But all it did was make the tip of his cock nudge against that spot deep inside you that in turn made you let out a sultry whine.

A noise that didn’t go unnoticed by Bakugou as he let go of the control to give you a playful swat to your ass, his lips pressing against the side of your head as he feels you getting more needy and restless. The bickering now silent on the other side.

“What was that, Bakubro?” Kirishima questioned as you almost froze.

“Sounded like a girl.” Denki continued.

“How the fuck would you know what that sounds like, shithead?” Bakugou scoffed.

“I dunno, man. It sounds like Dynamight’s having some fun on the side, ain’t that right?” Bakugou could’ve killed Grand for how smug he sounded from the discovery, “Hey, Princess-”

“Don’t fuckin’ call her that, asshole.” Bakugou growled, shifting his hips angrily as you had to grip his shoulders to stop yourself from falling, moaning as the veiny length of his cock pressed against the spongy spot inside you.

“Told you,” Shindou scoffed, “While we’re slaving away he’s getting his dick wet.”

And fuck— now they definitely heard as you sat deathly still, feeling your entire body aflame as Bakugou dropped the game controller beside him on the couch.

“Hardly slaving away when you can’t even make the shots.”

“You know what, Dynamight. Maybe you’re right, I’m not very good at this game.” Your ear still pressed against Bakugou’s headset you heard Shindou drop his controller onto the table in front of him, the device clanking as his desk chair squeaked as he settled back.

The sultry tone of his voice had your thighs quivering on either side of Bakugou’s hips as your cunt fluttered around him, his palms now squeezing the fat of your ass as you could feel the warmth radiating through your body. You could tell Bakugou was between deciding whether to disconnect the call to satiate you himself or to entertain the man on the other side of the line.

“But there is something I’m really, really good at.”

#jo thirsts #thirst posts #Bakugou thirst #Shindou thirst #Bakugou x reader

[astyrial]

you vs spiderman tasm!peter parker x fem!reader (fluff) synopsis: you find someone in your kitchen word count: 1.2k warnings: fake breaking and entering, taller!peter parker, kissing masterlist | requests are open

    you awake to the sound of something clattering in the kitchen, a pot or pan falling to the floor. the sharp noise instantly flairs your instincts, your hand reaching for anything you can fight with. it reaches a disconnected alarm clock, one that you'd been meaning to get rid of.

  with a short squeak in the bed, your feet reach the flooring. the wood planks luckily making no noise as you take far too many steps to reach the door. the night light drifts in through the windows, adding a little light to your room. very slowly, your hand twists the doorknob, the sound causing your face to crinkle.

  you open the door quickly, hoping to eliminate the creaking that typically come from your door. down the hall, in the kitchen, you can see the shadow of someone. peter... peter said he would be late getting back. but typically, he would've texted you first or something (which would’ve been easy to know if you thought to check your phone first).

  instead of hoping for the best, you prepare for the worst. with a hope for a long life and that your self defense training (which peter very much encouraged) would help you, you make your way down the hallway. it's rather short, a bathroom on one side and a closet on the other. 

  however, it takes you forever to muster up the courage to finally get to the end of it. you keep your back to the wall, your head peering across the corner and noticing something dangling from the ceiling... dangling from the ceiling? you hold the alarm clock up like a brick and turn around the corner.

  there, hanging in your apartment kitchen, is THE spiderman. his hand is reaching down to grab the pan, a web suddenly flinging from his wrist and grabbing ahold of the handle. "holy shit!" you shout, your eyes wide with confusion. 

  "get out of my kitchen!" you shout again. normally, you would've expected to be more scared. but considering he's called the 'friendly neighborhood spiderman', it was hard to feel overly anxious 

  he spins around, his body instantly falling to the floor, his unmasked self no longer facing you. despite the fact that you saw a glimpse of his face, all you could tell was that he's got a lighter complexion. his hair is the typical young adult style, brown. 

  spiderman lands about a foot from the pan, his hand reaching over and grabbing it while he stands up. "sorry... uh, sorry about that, ma'am," his voice changes a little as he speaks, as if he's hiding the sound of his voice. 

  "sorry? you're in my kitchen! how did you even get in?" you raise your hands in frustration, your feet moving quickly to get you to the front door. "now get out of my apartment or i'll shove you out myself!" 

  maybe you weren't the most intimidating person... peter's shirt that's a little too big for you, shorts that nearly hide beneath the length. and your fuzzy socks with some design etched into them. what makes it worse is the small chuckle leaving the hero's mouth. as if he couldn't even imagine you fighting him. 

  when you cross your arms, your eyes looking over the hero, he throws the mask back on. something about him seems so familiar, his laugh, his stature, his hair. he turns around, his wide eyes sewn into his mask staring back intently. 

  "i can see myself out," he holds his hands up, his laugh still trickling out through his words. it all feels too familiar...

  you nod, your fingers still gripping the old alarm clock, your eyes still staring right back. "yes, you should do that... and, and never come back here! no breaking of the windows or destroying of my kitchen!" despite your heart moving quicker than you want, you stand your ground. 

  the man nods back, quickly walking towards the hallway. he turns around for a second, his heels turned a certain way, his head arched back towards you. and in this moment, you realize why everything seems so familiar. it's peter, spiderman is peter parker. 

  you walk out after him, watching as he starts running towards the stairs, "peter! come back here!" 

  the door shuts behind you as you gain speed towards the staircase. just in view you can see spiderman's head turned and now facing you. his shoulders have dropped and he sighs. 

  "peter, spiderman... what the fuck?" you question, your eyebrows raising in question, your mouth a little wide as you watch him make his way back up to you. 

  he pulls his mask off, revealing his soft brown eyes. peter has a cut on his cheek and another adorning his eyebrow. suddenly, he gives you a soft smile, his lips pursed on his face. you resist the urge to immediately run up to him, wrap your arms around his waist. 

  "i'm sorry for not telling you sooner, it's just... i mean if you can't tell it's crazy. i can't even come stay the night with my girlfriend without being threatened," peter laughs a little, his head hung low; clearly in a little pain from whatever occurred a little earlier in the evening. 

  you shake your head, a soft smile even making its way to your face. "i was threatening spiderman, not peter parker. but now i might, considering you let me think you were some stranger in my kitchen," you narrow your eyes at him, turning around and walking back to your door. 

  peter quickly follows after you, his long legs closing the distance. he watches as you grab the handle of the door, you attempt to open it, but unexpectedly, it's locked. you reach your hand into the fake plants adorned on the door. unfortunately, the key that you normally put there, is gone. 

  you groan, leaning your head back. peter rests a hand on your back, his other hand holding up the key, "uh, you wanted to know how i got in... well..."

  you crinkle your noise, the smile on your face becomes a little giddy. he smiles back, not being able to help but love the look on your face. he adores you and how capable you can be. "really, y/n, i'm sorry. i should've told you sooner, it's just dangerous."

  "i know peter... how about to make it up to me you can tell me how it happened? and you let me fix up that pretty face of yours, parker?" you tilt your head at the boy. maybe you should be more mad, but you can't help it. 

  he instantly nods, shrugging his shoulders, "i can absolutely do that. and i can make your favorite smoothie, which i know you love. will that work for you, l/n?"

  "oh that works and more," you lean up to the spiderboy, your hand grabbing a hold of his shoulder as you give him a kiss on his cheek, then his lips. they're a little chapped, a little rough, like your relationship. but isn't every?

  he leans back, his eyes looking down at your shirt and back at your eyes, "by the way, that physics shirt is very threatening. and very attractive on you."

#spiderman x reader #spiderman #tasm peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker x reader #marvel #marvel x reader

[ccalhoun]

Hihi! I was wondering if I can send a request of a Brahms Heelshire oneshot angst? The plot would be like you guys got into a fight of some sort, making him angry and violent. He would accidentally hit you or push you, or anything that can cause you death? What would be his reaction? You can decide that :D

If you decide to do it, thank you so much! No rush at all! Take your time and have a lovely day💕

≻ ┄┄ ♡ ┄┄ ≺

brahms heelshire x m!reader oneshot!

warnings: male reader, can be trans or cis, toxic brahms (its brahms lets be real), arguing, mutual comfort, mentions of blood, descriptions of abandonment, hurt to comfort

wc: 900+

cut for length!

you stormed out of your room, brahms following quickly behind you.

"wait, please! just listen to me! why are you so upset?" brahms' voice was a mix between begging and yelling at you. he was horrified you were going to abandon him and leave him (how would be survive without you)? however, he also thought you were being irrational, how bad was it really that he killed the most recent grocery boy? its not like he deserved to live, how could someone like him try to flirt on someone like you? it was disgusting, really, he views you as an angel, a higher being when all you really do is love him and sort of put up with his stalker-y bullshit. he couldn't let such a lowlife entertain the idea of doing impure things with you, obviously he had to kill the man.

"brahms! just leave me alone, i need to be alone, okay?" you snapped, still keeping you voice low but sharp. brahms let out an almost noiseless growl, barely hearing it himself.

"what's gotten into you? why aren't you listening to me?" brahms' tone now had more of an angry tone, you backed up slightly out of fear. you knew brahms loved you and just had problems with getting told no and being in healthy relationships, but he was still scary. and unstable. almost like you predicted it, he shoved you, hard, and you hit your head on the edge of a small hall table holding a vase with plastic flowers in them. the vase quickly fell off as well, smashing on the floor next to your hand. the sound not only scared you, but also made you flinch and get a few pieces of glass in the palm of your hand.

"damn!" you shouted out of shock before staying seated and trying to take deep breaths so you didn't pass out. brahms just looked at you in shock, millions of thoughts running through his head. his hands were shaking and his heart was beating in his ears, he started silently crying without even thinking about it. "brahms?" you whispered softly once you got your breathing under control and noticed the poor horrified man.

the sound of your voice woke him from his mini coma, looking at your face before starting to sob. his first thought was to get you a rag with water on it and some bandages, since thats what you used to clean him up when he got scraped. he quickly ran off to get the items despite your yelling for him to come back.

you wanted to get up and try to find him but you felt way too dizzy, you were just gonna have to wait until you could stand and walk around. hey, at least maybe he'd be more calmed down by the time you actually do find him! you started to doze off without realizing it when you heard the sound of him softly stepping close to you. your eyes slightly opening wider to look at the man in front of you. he was holding what looked like a cloth of sort and a box of band-aids, how sweet.

he carefully and slowly knelt down, making sure to avoid any of the glass on the ground. you quickly noticed the glint of silver in his hands and realize he was holding your tweezers, you instantly thought of the time he got a splinter and you used the same tweezers to get the small piece of wood out of his hand. you wanted to cry in a good way, he was being sweeter than normal and you missed seeing him like this.

"i'm so sorry," his voice was shaky and slow as he started to carefully and slowly look for glass in the cuts on your arm, trying his best to clean it up and make sure you'd be ok. it was at this point you realized he was still crying, it must have really freaked him out. your heart filled with warmth as you looked at the poor man, scaring himself because he's still trying to learn, him apologizing at all is a massive step. you were less scared, now just convinced you could help him to be even better, and make this the last time this ever happens.

"it's ok, brahmsy," you made sure to add his nickname so he listened better, you knew he loved it when you called him any nicknames, "you're still learning, it's ok. you're helping me now, you're doing such a good job," his crying seemed to stop as he froze and looked at you. the tears started up again after a minute and he hugged you tightly, avoiding your arm, letting out small 'thank you's and 'i'm so sorry's. he really did feel bad. you gave him a soft kiss on the forehead before interrupting the soft moment.

"sorry to rush you, but can you go back to getting the glass out of my arm? i want to show you how to do it properly, if that's ok with you," you smiled softly at him and he nodded slowly, handing you the tweezers and towel, setting the box of band-aids on the floor closer to you. you showed him how to find glass, take it out, clean the cut, and carefully put on the right sized band-aid, once you knew his attention was fully drawn from what happened, you relaxed as well, just enjoying showing him how to help.

and he did listen, he was able to clean up the rest of your arm without any problems <3!

≻ ┄┄ ♡ ┄┄ ≺

#brahms heelshire #brahms heelshire x reader #brahms heelshire x male reader #brahms heelshire x you #male reader #hurt to comfort #angst #fluff #the boy 2016

[cash-111]

Opposing Sides

Pairings: reader x Slytherin

CW: Angst, war, slight dark images. No gender specification on either part. Not beta read

Synopsis: reader is camping with DA, preparing an ambush. Ironically, they didn’t expect one.

Length: short

A/N: I’m so intrigued by the war, ngl I’m surprised there’s not as much angsty content. The end is meant to be open, idk. P.S. sorry for the absence xx

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The wind howls through the branches, leaves fall everywhere around on the dark soil, making your disorganized run aggravated by their crunching.

You try to breathe and look ahead of you, but the cold air scratches your lungs with each huff and your pupils work in vain to catch any glimpse of light, while instead you pray not to find any.

Light means death.

You had realized that sooner than you had hoped, the rush of green still embedded in your mind as it had made your friend fall like a frail trunk in a field. Almost soundless, a soft thud against the grass, no scream or chance to react at all.

You had stared, still in the night as everyone else got to their feet and fired out attacks while concealing the area in ink smoke. At some point someone dragged you along by the arm and only then your mind managed to hold a thought long enough to act. “Run” they had shouted, before they also left you and scattered like it had been ordered.

So now you run, trying not to think just how much left you have in you before you fall, another trunk in a forest of soulless eyes.

Your path gets narrower, low branches you don’t notice tear at your skin, but you run, you keep running, as long as you run you can keep your mind away from that damned emerald-

green light.

It scrapes your ear. You see it.

Your mind crashes down like a dam on the small river you were trying to protect. What now? Do you keep running? Can you fight? How many were they? How close? Do they see you? Are you gonna die? Are you gonna die without a sound like-

Your thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the flash of red that hits your hip, you finally fall, like a horse pierced with an arrow in battle, and the crawling burning sensation of your flesh eating itself makes your lungs erupt in the guttural wail your heart had been aching to cry.

You hold your side as you mindlessly scream into the humid ground. That was your new resolve. You’d be dead in a few seconds so, for what it’s worth, this would be your way to avenge your friend.

When you’re still alive and writhing you don’t question why, until the rustle of leaves reveals a masked figure that uncertainly calls your name.

Their heart falls with them as they kneel near you, ripping their mask off. Your mind starts to get cloudy, but you know you recognize that face, that heaving chest, that broken voice that huffs out a series of “No, no, no! Please, please, fuck-“

So you smile and reach to cup their cheek, to feel their warmth against your cold hand, which they hold tightly. Their eyes scan your hazed ones and urgent desperation bares in their words.

“No, please I can heal you, you can’t leave me!”

They scream your name in the night as your eyes finally close, and darkness claims you.

#fanfiction #writing #x reader #fanfic #gender neutral reader #slytherin x reader #theodore nott x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #draco malfoy x reader #enzo berkshire x reader #blaise zabini x reader #pansy parkinson x reader #angst

[smilingformoney]

A Welcome Surprise

Snape x reader | smut

A gift for my beloved @sevsnapes 💚🐍 she promised to draw me some wonderful art and I said, I don’t have much money but I can pay you in blowjobs? So here is said blowjob 😏

“Care to escape?”

Severus turned around at the familiar sound of your voice. He nodded, and the two of you quickly slid away from the party to a quieter wing of the Malfoy Mansion.

You slipped into the library, knowing no one would disturb you here, and Severus sank into the nearest armchair with a sigh.

“Thank you,” he said as he rested his face in his palm. “If one more person had congratulated me on being a ‘war hero’ I may well have cursed the entire lot of them.”

“You’re doing well, baby,” you cooed as you straddled his lap and began gently running your hands down his clothed chest. “I know how much you hate these events. I thought you might like to… relax.”

Severus looked at you then with a raised eyebrow. “Oh?” he murmured, his voice low and silky. “And how exactly do you propose I go about this?”

You grinned devilishly as you bent down to kiss his neck, making sure to be particularly gentle over his scar. He let out a low grunt as your hands travelled further down and your fingers lightly brushed against his growing bulge. He reached up to touch you, but you pinned his wrist down onto the arm of the chair.

“Relax, Sev,” you hummed. “Let me take care of you.”

You deftly popped open the buttons of his trousers and slipped your hand underneath the fabric to feel his throbbing cock against your palm.

“Is that for me?” you teased.

“Y - yes,” Severus whined. “You… all for you…”

“Such a good boy. May I please taste you?”

He nodded desperately, and you slid down to your knees, pulling his clothing down with you to fully expose him to the air. You glanced up at him, so beautiful with his hair a mess and lust etched across his face. His chest heaved with his heavy breaths and you saw his fingernails digging into the arm of the chair.

You started gently, gradually introducing your touch to his sensitive cock, starting with your fingers, then your palm, as you ran your hands up and down his shaft.

“So pretty,” you murmured, and Severus’ fingers dug in tighter into the fabric he was desperately clinging on to.

You knew you didn’t have long before the absence of the great war hero Severus Snape was noticed and someone came looking for you. Severus let out a long, deep breath as your lips wrapped around his tip and you let the precum drip onto your tongue. You lapped it up hungrily before moving further down his shaft, expertly unlocking your jaw and tipping your head back to allow his entire length to slip down your throat.

“Fuck…” Severus whined. He held still but you could tell he was itching for more, so you gave it to him. You began to bob your head forward and back gently, just a few inches at a time, letting yourself adjust to the feeling of his warm, wet length down your throat.

Severus finally released his grip on the chair only to slip his fingers into your hair as he cradled your head in his lap. You allowed him to guide you, following the pressure of his hand on the back of your head.

He started slow, steady, trying to hold out for as long as he could. But when you looked up at him, he let out a grunt and began thrusting into your mouth with more vigour than before.

The library was silent and you couldn’t speak for his cock in your mouth, but Severus made plenty enough noise for you both. His grunts echoed around the large room, and if anyone had been hiding in the corners, they would be in no doubt as to what was going on between you.

When he came, it was with a loud shout of your name, and his hips slammed into your face once more before stilling, allowing his cum to shoot down your throat.

Severus sat back into the armchair, a blissed-out look on his face. You sat up on your knees as you released his length from your lips and you swallowed down the rest of his cum.

“Well, well,” came a voice from your left, and the both of you looked over in surprise when you realised you weren’t alone. Lucius grinned hungrily. “Now this is a welcome surprise.”

#severus snape #pro snape #snape x reader #snape smut #snape bj #smilingforsnapes #sevsformoney

[kneexcutter]

Started with one mission

Before you continue, for the record, I've never played COD nor do I plan to. I cracked because of all the other stories and Tiktoks. If things are inaccurate I apologize in advance.

Inspiration: surprise by @kovieky (I found it on Ao3) and you make me nervous by @kovieky

Price x 141 reader

Call sign: Ironhide

The day you joined task force 141 it was one hell of an experience. The day you met the people who would go to any length for you, just as you would do for them. They were your friends, your family, and your determination to keep fighting. It's always something unexpected when you wake up every day.

You were in the mess hall with Soap, Gaz, and Ghost not long ago. While Price was in his office, Soap was telling you all a story about his upbringing.

"How about you, guys? Think about having little ones one day?” Soap inquires, a smirk on his face.

Gaz hummed as he chewed into his food. "I don't know, I've always dreamed to raise a family but having one, not sure."

"With our line of work, it'd be impossible," Ghost remarked.

Soap smiled at you with a cheeky optimistic grin. "How about you, lass? Imagine having kids?"

“Uh… I considered it. I'd like to have children, but I haven't found the right person yet, like Ghost said it'd be  difficult in this line of work." You responded by fiddling with your fingers. You lied; you did find the right guy, but he was your boss, your superior, and the team's captain.

"There were a couple, but they weren't really worth my time," you stated frankly. Besides, none of them compared to Price. They could never be. Price had your attention from the moment you met. Something in his eyes had you wrapped around his finger, and you were surprised that only Kate had noticed.

"I think you'd be a great parent," Gaz says with a warming smile, while Soap chuckles. "I'm sure those kids would be afraid of you."

"They would not!" you laughed. " Kids adore me, Johnny."

“Oh really?”

“Yup.”

“That’s something I want to see.”

Price entered the room while carrying a file of paperwork, just as you and Soap started to prod at one another. He whistled, capturing your attention.

...

Right now, you're standing in an empty house with a little girl clutching onto you, sobbing and whimpering to stay silent as the gunshots became increasingly closer.

"Ironhide! Do you copy?!"

The sound of your captain's voice made you wince. While inspecting the tiny house, you tightened your hold on the girl. Three bodies were there, two of which were likely the girl's parents—a man and a woman.

The other was an adversary you killed while trying to find a hiding place. It was then that the girl clung to you, wailing and shouting.

Price could be heard giving you directions to the chopper. They were still looking for you… You exhaled in relief but were quickly reminded that this was wrong. They were scheduled to go, which meant that you would be left behind and would never see them again.

"All right, we're going to run now. Hold on to me and don't let go." As you began to position the little girl on your back, you whispered to her. She nodded and placed her arms tightly around you, her hands on your vest.

“Copy.” That was all you said before leaving the house.

. . .

“Anything?” Gaz inquired, peering out the window of the chopper. "It's approximately 40 minutes."

“She’s coming.” Price stated firmly. "I know she is. Ironhide always pulls through."

Gaz nods and turns around to see Ghost and Soap approaching them. Soap shook his head. “Nothing.”

"We need to be going, sir, it's getting destructive out there," Ghost remarked. "If we spend any more time out here, they'll find us."

“Fuck!”

Price's heart ached as he realized they had to depart. They had to leave, and the sound of the chopper jolted Price into the present moment,  followed by a shout.

He came to a halt, it sounded like you. Was he losing his mind? He turned his head now, noticing someone running towards them.

“Ironhide… KID, HOLY FUCK!"

Price dashed towards you, catching you just as you were about to collapse.

"There's more…  coming… we need to…" you attempted to speak. When Price noticed the small girl on your back, he merely nodded his head, guiding you to the chopper.

Soap cheerfully greeted you before pausing mid-sentence to look at the child. Price assisted you in sitting down, while the girl sat on your lap, still crying.

You encircled her, hugging her close, doing your best to soothe her. Eventually, you were unable to maintain your open eyelids and fell asleep. Having the girl in your arms while you both slept caught Price's attention.

Price tenderly stroked the side of your cheek before gently touching your shoulder as you all returned to base. Instead of you, the little girl awoke, slightly yawning and rubbing her eyes, which appeared to bother her due to the grime on her face.

"Hey, sweetheart," Price said quietly.

Price's hand was kicked away from your sleeping form by the little girl. Price glanced at the girl in disbelief as he heard unexpected laughing from behind him.

"The tiny one doesn't like you, captain," Soap grinned.

"Right, so why don't you come get her then, mate?" Price sneered at Soap before stepping aside.

“Watch an learn.” Soap gave the little girl a friendly smile. "Hey beautiful, aren't you a cute one ay, come on out here so we can wake up our lass, yeah?"

The girl merely shouted at Soap's attempt to get closer to you before kicking him hard in the nose.  Soap fell backwards, clutching his nose, while Gaz and Price burst out laughing.

"What should we do now?" In order to avoid getting booted, Gaz questioned.

Ghost and Price exchanged glances before Ghost nodded, approached the girl, and pulled her away from you. The girl began to kick and scream.

"NO, MAMA!" As she witnessed Price begin to take you in his arms, the girl cried louder and louder.

"Did she just-" Gaz asks, his eyes wide.

"She did, indeed…" Soap laughed in response. "After all, Ironhide did say she wanted children."

"Is this even permitted?" Gaz inquired. Surely there was something about bringing a kid back to base. “Dunno, we’ll have to see.”

. . .

When you opened your eyes, you were met with a dazzling white light. As you heard beeping and a small child giggling, you sighed. You winced as you sat up, noticing the little girl playing with Price's bucket hat.

You locked your gaze on them for a moment, a warm smile spreading across your face. You couldn't deny you were in love with your captain. This sight was something you never wanted to forget.

Price turned to face you, a look of relief on his face. "Well look who's awake," he said as he tapped the girl.

With a wave of sparkle in her eyes, the tiny girl swung around and ran towards you, virtually belly flopping on top of you and putting her arms around your neck. "Mama's up!"

You froze, did she just…call you mama…as in mom?! A tidal rush of emotions slammed through you, and you put your arms around the girl as tears streamed down your face. You started to cry hysterically, and Price leaned over and caressed the side of your head.

“Why sad?” The girl asked, moving back to look at you. She started wiping your tears away with her fingers. You observed that she was wearing several bandages, including two that were wrapped over her arms and face.

"I'm just glad you're okay…" You mumbled.

When the door was knocked on, Price turned to see the doctor. "I apologize for bothering you, but may I borrow the girl?"

Your brows furrowed as you regarded Price. "Why do they need her?"

Price returned her gaze to you, "They're only running a few tests, sweetheart, to make sure she's not carrying anything."

"She's just a kid." You protested while clutching the girl.

"I know, darlin, I know," Price sighed. " She'll return immediately after she's finished, I assure you."

You locked your gaze on Price for a split second before heaving a defeated sigh. "Sir, yes."

"Bye, mama," the girl said before hugging you once more then taking Price's hand.  Soap, Gaz, and Ghost walked into the room, Soap waved at the small girl, who stuck her tongue out at him. Gaz laughed loudly, and Ghsot chuckled.

"Hey Ironhide," Gaz replied as he laughed. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," you chuckled. "She called me as Mom…"

"We were surprised, too," Gaz adds. "When Ghost had to get her off of you, she started crying for you and went out the room to find you. Price had to stay her the entire time."

You laughed at the thought of a group of trained military soldiers being outpaced by a little girl.

"How long did it last?" You inquired.

"Two days," Ghost said. "I'm not sure how long we could keep that girl under wraps for."

"Well, the captain sure handled it well," Soap chuckled. "You three looked like a family, you know."

Your face flushed, and you opened your eyes wide. “JOHNNY!

“What? It's true, isn't it, Gaz?"

Your gaze was drawn to Gaz, who began to nod his head up and down.

“You sons of bitches.” You grumbled.

"Woah, watch your language mama, don't want the young one picking up on your language," Soap giggled as you tried to throw your pillow at him.

"What are you muppets yapping your traps about?"

"Nothing, sir," both Gaz and Soap replied.

"All right, now all of you out," Price replied, stepping aside.

"Feel better, Ironhide," Soap said as Ghost pushed him out. Gaz closed the door behind them.

Price sat down next to your bed and crossed his arms. "You realize what you did was a stupid and risky move, solider."

"And you violated protocol by staying when you were supposed to leave, sir."

"I'm liable for you, it's my job to make sure you all come back in one piece and alive," Price sighed.

You lowered your gaze to the IV in your arm. "Am I in trouble, sir?"

"That depends," Price responded. "You scared the hell out of me, darlin', you showed up about half dead with a child on your back…"

"She wasn't that heavy," you quietly giggled. "I tried to leave her, but she wouldn't let go… I know I shouldn't have become attached, but-"

You felt a hand clutch onto yours, squeezing it tightly as if you were about to go any second. You turned to meet Price's gaze. Your body tingled as he stared at you. "John…" you murmured.

Your breath caught as you scratched your eyes as Price leaned forward and rested his forehead against yours.

He mumbled, "Never do something like that again, do you copy?"

You smiled, "I copy."

With his arms crossed, Price pulled away from you. "All we have to do now is figure out what to do with the girl."

#john price x you #price x reader #cod price #price x you #john price #task force 141 #x you #call of duty #soap cod #price fanfiction #x reader #simon ghost riley #gaz #cod #modern warefare 2

[neblina-magico]

Sleeping In The Sun

Chapter 3

You were desperate for a job so you applied to be the daycare Attendants handler! you have no clue what you're signing yourself into but at least you don't have to pay rent now!

Moon hates you, Sun doesn't know how to feel about you and you're just trying to survive.

——————————————————————————

You stare at the two big statues, very shimmery gold statues, the gold is fake as hell but the statues themselves are sick. On one side there's what you assume to be the Sun animatronic, tall and lengthy with the flattest face ever, stemming out of his face are these sunray-looking things that just make it more obvious that this animatronic was made to represent the sun. His stance is that of a welcoming clown, someone who would greet you with a hug, unlike the other one. It's a whole ass gremlin, nibbling at your toes at 3 in the morning kind of little shit. Like crawl up your walls and stare at your sleep kind of guy. This animatronic is rocking a sort of nightcap on top of his head, he's also got a flat-ass face but half of it's in black giving him this crescent moon look. They seem pretty neat not gonna lie.

You sigh, anxiety building up in your chest as you look at the slide, you're aware it's the entrance but the sudden nervousness leaves you sticking in your place. What if you make a bad first impression? What if you fuck something up? What would they think of you if you did, you didn't want to think of any possible consequence. Plus this wouldn't be the first time you've experienced an animatronic so why are you so nervous? You take a deep breath and keep walking, you take note of the desk that's probably for check-in and check-out. Placing your hand on top of the slide you stand there for a second.

“Don't be a fucking wimp now, you're going to ace this first interaction.” and you slide down.

The slide was pretty harsh, painfully obvious it wasn't built for an adult to slide through but aside from the sore butt it's a fun-as-hell experience. You couldn't help but giggle your little ass down, you probably either sounded like a 4-year-old having the time of their life or some sick witch laughing. Nonetheless, you felt your heart drop into your stomach.

You crash land into the ball pit. Tragic, perhaps you'll die there, never to be seen again. Yet that's not an option, not that it even was an option to begin with. Before you could even try and look around you feel two cold hands reach under your arms and lift you sky high.

“WHAt THE FUCK!” You shout, thrashing around trying to escape from the chunk of metal that's currently holding you from arm's length like a stupid ass cat. He just stares at your head leaning side to side in curiosity. You're too busy trying to escape his grasp while he's too busy just observing you, looking at every blemish and light scarring around your face, down to your figure, your dangling legs, and arms. You're human that's for sure, like the rest of the employees in the building, though there are very few that actually work around the Pizza Plex. But they never come to the Daycare, none of them come visit him, the only other human they've seen in total has been 3. Not many.

“PUT ME DOWN pLEASE!” You ask in desperation. You were high up in the air with an animatronic just looking at you, observing you so yes you are panicking just a little. The sun animatronic lets out a breathy ‘oh’ and sets you down on the ground. You start to straighten out your clothes and try to catch your breath. You didn't fear heights but the last time something similar happened, it ended in night terrors. The sun animatronic fondles with his hand,

“I'm sorry new friend…I didn't mean to scare you” His voice is loud but timid. His demeanor is obviously filled with guilt and other mixed emotions. For an animatronic, he had advanced facial expression and emotional comprehension. You take note of that. Looking up at the sunman himself you smile.

“Don't worry, I just don't think I'll run into you so soon.” you walk off towards one of the big blocks scattered around the Daycare and sigh “You just scared me a little. Not as badly as you might think I did, I'm sure your facial recognition is not that highly detailed so perhaps you assumed I was scared shitless, but I wasn't, just a little spooked that's all!”

“Well… that's good I would have hated to know that I scared my new friend. Speaking of new friends, my name is Sundrop but you can call me Sun or Sunny or any nickname you come up with! I work at the Daycare alongside Moon and who might you be a new friend?” Sun smiles down at you—Silicon for sure.

“I'm your new companion, I've been assigned to work alongside you and Moon as your handler. So not only would I be helping you around the Daycare but I'll also be in charge of keeping up with your maintenance!” You stick your arm out for a handshake, “It's nice to meet you Sun, I hope we can work well together”

The smile on Sun’s face falls at the same speed that day turns into night. The same as for how water groups together and dust clumps together. It was sudden and you felt the shift as quickly as his smile fell. It left you feeling uneasy, unsure, and like there's an understandable reason as to why he wasn't happy to hear those words come out of your mouth. Even so, you felt a deepening in your stomach, a light sting as well. Sundrop seemed so happy before and not even in one second did it all change.

You let your arm fall to your side and in the discomfort, you cross your legs.

“Well…you could explore the Daycare, just please don't make a mess!” He walks off and with some random wire that is lowered down, he flies (?) or perhaps floats. Either way, you don’t dwell on it much after he enters what you assume is his living area.

You sigh and push yourself off of the block, cursing yourself for making a somewhat bad first impression. Nonetheless, you walk around the place, admiring the two play structures that are at the centre of the Daycare. The different twists and turns that are seen throughout the play structures. The bridge has rails high enough to prevent a child from falling off but still looks like it gives a sense of freedom. You also take note of all the little displays of the main four scattered throughout the outside of the play structures. You keep walking around admiring the colourful place, your constant gazing leads you to bump into a desk. It's semi-circular with a double monitor and the flooring is harder than the padded floor throughout the Daycare.

You walk around and enter the area and you instantly notice that it's supposed to be a security desk of sorts. There is some dust collected on it but nothing you can easily clean. There is also a pretty comfortable chair and behind it all is a fairly big screen showcasing Sundrop, specifically the Sundrop candy things. Taking note of where the desk is you continue walking around enjoying the way your feet sink into the padded floors. You start skipping around till you come across an area filled with short long tables and small colourful chairs. There are shelves with bins that are filled with all sorts of crafty stuff.

“That's a shit ton of glitter glue” you pull out a bin filled with all sorts of glitter glue. Some were of pinks and blues and others were of silvers and golds. A whole rainbow and beyond of colours. There were paints of all sorts, even face paints! Bins filled with paper and those kinds of scissors that cut in all shapes and styles. The kind that when they're put out on the tables every kid will rush to get one in their tiny grasps. You smile as you look through one of the many bins filled with stickers, you pick out a couple of yellow stars and some that supposedly glow in the dark and decorate them on your arms. You stretch your arms out and admire the stickers on your arms. Smiling you continue your little stroll.

You keep just looking around and walking all over the place. The lights remind you of the kind that schools always had the kind that makes sure you stay awake and makes you drag on your school work. Those kinds of lights always make it hard for you to concentrate. You also come across a little castle-like structure built right next to the ball pit. You made your way to the top of it and just looked down and resisted the urge to jump off from the structure and into the ball pit. You also find a little storage place for shoes and other possible stuff, most likely for the kids at the daycare to put away their belongings.

You then come across a dark blue curtain near the craft area, it stands out from the rest of the daycare with its much darker colours compared to the bright colours all over the place. Pushing aside the curtains you enter an almost dream-like atmosphere. One that feels like you're entering a dream, a dark bioluminescent forest with quiet morning birds chirping. It's dark inside the decently large cave-like place. On the walls is a dark clear sky design with a couple of thin blue-grey clouds. The ceiling is decorated by glow-in-the-dark stars and a lamp that's the shape of the moon right at the center. On the floors are very well-cushioned sleeping mats with sun and moon-decorated blankets and pillows that continue with this late-night theme. At the end of this dome is a nest of blankets and pillows formed into a perfect sitting area and on the sides of it is bookshelves filled with all sorts of books on display.

“What is this place? It's beautiful,” you say out loud admiring the whole area, it doesn't take long for you to notice that that dome/cave is the naptime area. You reach down into the nest and pick up a white star-shaped pillow. It is the slightest fluffy and fits perfectly in your arms, and you smile.

You stand there for a moment taking in the mild and comforting smell of lavender in the room. Enjoying and sucking in the calmness that came with this room, a feeling of comfort and sleepiness wash over you like a nice warm blanket during a harsh winter night. You breathe in and let out a contented sigh, smiling and burying your face into the pillow.

A sinking feeling drapes over your shoulders, your legs feel stiff, and the contentment, the joy, and all calming emotions slowly ooze out of you. A tall lengthy figure stands over you, your back turned to it while its blaring red eyes watch you like a predator watching its prey. You feel an ache in your chest start to build up, the growing anxiety makes your stomach twist and suck in. The pillow is held tight against you.

“Now who might you be starlight?”

——————————————————————————

MOON HAS MADE AN APPEARANCE!! Hope you all like chapter two! Any and all support is greatly appreciated

#fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf moon #fnaf sun #moondrop #sundrop #sundrop/moondrop x reader #daycare attendant x reader #daycare attendent #fnaf security breach #angst #x reader #x gn reader #x gender neutral reader

[coco-bean-1218]

And then maybe 👄 from the emoji prompts to soothe the pain! Please and thank you!

Hello! Thank you for the ask!

I know that it's supposed to be headcanons, but I think it would make more sense in writing format.

WARNING: This is a "what if" idea. It may or may not make the cut into the actual story. I'm just tossing around ideas.

This was so fun to write!

---

1943

It was another weekend for Easy Company, and fortunately for them, they had weekend passes. Aldbourne was a charming town, and the locals were warm and welcoming to the Americans. The pubs in the area were a cozy and intimate setting that Easy Company enjoyed visiting in their spare time.

Claire was sitting on a stool at the bar, talking with Eugene and observing her fellow paratroopers. The atmosphere in the pub was lively, with the sounds of laughter and conversation filling the air.

Most men sat at tables or booths, talking and joking with their friends. Some of the bolder ones even started mingling with the local ladies in an attempt to impress their buddies.

As she sat there, Claire couldn't help but eavesdrop on the conversations closest to her. Her curious nature and enigmatic personality made it hard to resist the urge to listen in. Claire observed her fellow soldiers with a mischievous glint in her eye. She knew she had the power to make them question their own assumptions and desires. It was part of her charm, this ability to hold her cards close to her chest and leave them wanting more. Yet, she remained quiet and introverted. And she liked it.

As the night went on, Claire continued to converse with Eugene and her other close friends. However, she felt a weariness growing within her. She had been up early and would be required to rise at the same hour the following morning. Although she had indulged in a single drink, she rarely, if ever, drank, preferring to maintain a clear and focused mind, and she had her reasons to. But that didn't stop her from going out and having a good time. Claire lived life on her own terms. She didn't conform to societal norms or expectations and valued her privacy and independence.

"Alright, I'm heading back to my billet. 'Night Alley," she said as she hopped down from her seat, knowing that Eugene would accompany her. They were practically inseparable.

"'Night Claire," he replied.

As she made her way towards the door, following Eugene, she heard a commotion that piqued her interest.

She turned her head towards the noise and soon found its source - Liebgott, Talbert, and Grant.

Knowing Talbert and Liebgott, she knew it was most likely about her.

Determined to uncover the truth, she stood there silently with her back towards them, absorbing every word they spoke. 

"I'm tellin' you, Grant, you just gotta do it," Talbert shouted, "Before someone else swoops in and takes her out from under you."

Grant chuckled nervously and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know, Tab. I can't figure her out. She's elusive and mysterious, yet I can't help but feel drawn to her. 

Liebgott smirked, leaning on the table. "That's what makes her so damn intriguing, ya know? It's like she's got this magnetic pull on all of us."

"Yeah, but you see how she is; she doesn't give any of the guys the time of day," Grant murmured, leaning in closer. "She keeps everyone, except Doc, at arm's length. Maybe I'd just end up embarrassing myself."

Talbert threw his arm around Grant's shoulder and grinned mischievously. "Look, buddy, you never know until you try. Besides, what's life without a little risk?"

"Exactly, Grant, she keeps everyone away EXCEPT Doc," Liebgott pointed out, taking a sip of his beer. "You've been dancing around her for over a year now. It's time to make a move before another fella steals her heart. And by fella, I mean Doc. Claire isn't gonna wait around forever.

Claire felt her heart start to race. Staying true to her character, a slight grin crept up on her lips as she suddenly came up with an impulsive idea that would turn heads and keep people wanting more.

She turned to Eugene, "Gene, I need to do something. Frankly, I'm tired of those three, and I think they need to be taught a little lesson. You might wanna look away for this."

Claire walked over to the trio, her head held high. As she approached them, she stared straight at Grant, cupped his face with her hands, and kissed him right there in front of everybody.

The room went silent. Talbert, who was taking a sip of his beer, sprayed it all over Malarkey, who was standing next to him at a different table. Liebgott started choking on the cigarette smoke he accidentally inhaled out of shock.

Claire looked around the room, satisfied, and tipped her head to the men, "Boys."

She turned on her heel and walked away and out of the bar arm-in-arm with Eugene, leaving everyone in a state of shock.

Grant stood there still as a statue, eyes wide, his gaze fixed on the spot where she once stood. His cheeks were bright red, his eyes glazed over, and dark red lipstick smeared across his lips.

Talbert started waving his hand in front of Grant's face, "Grant? You okay there, buddy?"

"I think he's in shock," Liebgott stated as he, too, started waving his hand in front of Grant's face.

"Hey, Tab, next time, say it, don't spray it," Malarkey grumbled, wiping the beer off his face.

---

I'M LAUGHING SO HARD RIGHT NOW

#ask game #writing help #band of brothers #wbwnmh #well behaved women never make history #chuck grant #chuck grant x ofc

[ase-trollplays]

Come With Me

Your name is Brandy Voleon. You're only one sweep old, and you're on the living room floor of your shared hive currently coloring a picture of a fleet ship in your empire-approved coloring book. Your twin, Scotch, left a few minutes ago, though you don't remember where he said he was going. He just said he wouldn't be gone a long time.

Once you finish coloring the page of your book -- You know imperial ships are supposed to be red, but purple looks so much better, in your opinion -- you rip it out and scurry to the kitchen to put it on the fridge. Just as you're reaching for a magnet to pin your masterpiece, you hear shouting and the sound of your lusus shrieking outside.

*SNAARRRRLLLL!!!* "Hey you! Get away from that lusus!" *SCREEEEECH!!!* "You bastard! Get back here, damn you!"

You abandon the coloring book page and run up the stairs to yours and Scotch's respite block to hide. You're sure Wolf-Spider dad can handle whoever's out there. Hopefully your sibling is sa--

Your thoughts get interrupted by the sound of the front door being kicked open and someone running inside, and you can't remember ever feeling so scared in your life. Your antenna, one fuzzy and one not, twitch and shudder with fear.

"Is anyone here!? You have to come with me! You're in danger!"

Whoever just entered your hive sounds like a male troll and definitely an adult. Tears of fear sting the corners of your eyes, and you cover your mouth when you hear heavy footsteps running up the stairs. When the door to your respiteblock gets thrown open, you press your hands to your mouth more firmly to muffle the startled gasp you almost let out. It doesn't take long for the intruder to check the closet and find you inside, and the scream that tears out of you causes him to wince and cover his ears.

You scramble and try to make a break for it, but he grabs you by the arm before you can even get a foot away from him, which only makes you scream more in addition to panicked flailing and swatting.

"Stop screaming! I'm trying to help you!" he commands and grabs you by the shoulders. Tears are falling from your eyes like waterfalls as you screech at him to let go and cry out for your lusus or Scotch. The troll -- An adult jade with stitch-like scarring around his mouth, a fur-trimmed jacket splattered with your lusus's blood, and cross-like horns -- gives you a hard shake.

"Your lusus is dead!"

That actually manages to shut you up as you process what he just said. Now that you're quiet, he continues talking.

"My name is Japhyr, Okay? I tried to stop the other troll, but I was too late. Your lusus was already dead by the time I chased them away, but you're not safe. They could come back any second, so we have to go right now."

He yanks you into his arms and starts running with you, at which point you struggle against him and try to make him drop you.

"What about Scotch?? We hafta wait!" you protest. If you're not safe from whoever killed your lusus, then your sibling isn't either. You can't leave him behind. "He's coming back! We hafta wait for him!"

"There's no time, kid! That lusus killer could come back any second! If we wait, then all of us will die!" he warns and struggles to keep a firm grasp on you, which in turns makes you fight against him even harder.

"Nooooo!! No, no, no! We hafta wait! We hafta wait for Scotch!" you repeat and start biting him and swinging your little fists and kicking like your life depends on it. Japhyr snarls and holds you at arm's length as you flail in his grasp with tears in your eyes.

"Dammit, there's no time! As soon as you're safe, I'll come back for Scotch! I promise, okay??"

You tone down your struggling and glare at him, your antenna tensing up as well. He can tell you don't believe him, and for a split second you feel hot -- Really hot and like you're being pricked all over. However, it only lasts for a fragment of a second.

"Promise? Promise you'll get Scotch too??" you question. Japhyr's every feature screams impatience, but he takes a deep breath and puts on a stoic face.

"I promise on my life I'll come back for him as soon as you're safe. I'll let you kill me yourself if I don't. Okay? Do we have a deal? You have to answer right now."

Although still doubtful, you nod. He tucks you under one arm and breaks into a sprint out of your hive. You only catch a glimpse of Wolf-Spider Dad's bloody, severed, and battered body as Japhyr runs away with you in tow.

You really, really hope that Scotch will be okay. You don't ever want to be without your sibling.

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

Your name is Brandy Voleon, and you're an eleven sweep office worker. Your guardian, the closest thing to family you've ever known, was killed two sweeps ago, and you still miss him.

Sometimes, though, you feel like there used to be someone else...

#things to read #Brandy Voleon #this was originally going to be a bunch of little stories #recounting prominent memories Brandy has with Japhyr #but then I realized that wasn't going to happen bc this first one was getting long #and I didn't want to cut anything out

[starlightshadowsworld]

Danganronpa 3: Despair arc episode 5.

Thonks.

Into a flashback of kid Ryota being bullied by some kids.

Having rubbish tipped onto him as they call him dirty and taking photos.

Kids are scary man.

Poor Ryota.

And his parents suck, and he copes by watching cartoons.

This got way to relatable.

Cool seeing his set up and such but man he's so stressed which... yeah, shout out to all the artists and animators out there.

Ya'll are great.

Back to Chisa heading to the Reserve Course.

Aaand we don't see it, it's skipped over of course.

I get that it's her punishment and it's a downgrade from her usual class which she loves.

And I know kids can be asshole's.

But I just hate that teaching these kids is considered a punishment.

These kids are looked down upon by everyone at the main school, it's just sad seeing that everyone really was against them.

Hammering the point that any one of those kids could've become Izuru Kamakura.

And for teaching them Chisa was treated awfully for it.

It's werid seeing Juzo calmly talk to someone.

Chisa's heard about the Kamakura project, I think it's too late though.

This sounds werid but I'm kinda glad they're not gonna be able to save Hajime.

Because can you imagine if they got him out and saved him?

The Reserve Course would probably be shut down or something especially knowing where the funds for it were going.

Hajime would be more depressed than ever, and these guys are not the people to give the "You're more than a talent speech."

Unless it's Chiaki than its a whole other story.

But than they'd be seperated and Hajime is back to square one.

... Fuck is the good ending for Hajime bring tortured so bad he literally becomes someone else?

I mean it does get better, hopefully if the end of Danganronpa 2 is any sign.

But man that's sad.

Did not need to re-live Juzo beating Hajime.

Ohh so they covered up Hajime being involved by saying he's been expelled.

Clever.

And looking like Jin Kirigiri wasn't involved, as they say the other staff on the board run the school.

Idk if its better or worse he wasn't involved.

Because either way he's enabling it.

I really like the idea of him being in on it, but than regretting it.

Much like the Director, case of history repeating itself.

And that guilt playing into his actions in the first game.

And partly why he kept Kyoko at arms length, he didn't want her getting caught up into this.

But also knew if Kyoko was near him she would snuff out the project easily.

It's okay if he's not, just makes him both a bad headmaster and a bad father.

"Make sure you're students don't make the news again."

Oh you're in for a rude awakening.

But Nagito's gone missing.

Suspicious.

And we get a shot of the applications of the 78th class.

Hell yeah.

And Jin looking at Kyoko's. Incase we forgot she's his daughter.

... Chisa why would you want to be Munakata's anything nevermind beloved?

Sworn enemy maybe, but beloved?

Aww the class having a celebration for her that's so sweet.

And Chiaki planned it, and she's been holding the class together.

Love that for her.

Fuyuhiko pretending he doesn't care but he does.

Man I missed these guys, even though it hasn't been long at all.

Hiyoko got taller, holyshit.

Gundam and Sonia giving a toast in true Gundam fashion might just be the sweetest thing I've ever seen.

Ryota saying he has no time for friendship.

I get your busy man but you can't stop friendship.

It will find you, you will be friended.

And yes that is a threat.

... Wait a sec... That wasn't Ryota, that's Imposter?!

Twogami my boy! I was wondering where he was.

Awh he's been covering for and looking after Ryota.

That's so sweet.

"This show can't end till its characters get a redemption."

I hope so.

"People can flake you out but carbs are always there."

Same ol Twogami.

He's not wrong though.

A plane and a fancy car.

..... SHE'S HERE.

And she put a bomb in her purse, or her purse was a bomb.

Either way that limo is gone, heh unintentional rhymes.

Junko Enoshima has entered the building.

As fabulous as ever.

And of course she's narrating her own life and insulting Mukuro at the same time.

I like how Mukuro's voice is almost monotone, balancing out Junko's more loud upbeat voice.

Junko's narration including the tragedy, so she had this shit planned from the get go.

This afternoon in fact.

Man imagine joining secondary school like what are your goals?

Oh I'm gonna destroy the whole world.

Can't even call her overconfident because she did it.

Mukuro being... Infatuated? With Junko doesn't suprise me, mainly cos I've seen that clip of them in the limo before.

Without context.

But even than makes sense, they may be the despair sisters but Junko has always been the mastermind behind the whole operation.

And for Mukuro to go through and do this shit for Junko, yeah she's gotta care for her a lot.

... Maybe too much...

The fact they both talk while Junko casually tries to kill Mukuro, I guess that's how they bond.

Because if they wanted to, they could kill the other.

The only one who would and succeeded was Junko.

"What an affect my bloody corpse would have on her."

Honestly, yeah I think it would. Junko wouldn't have killed her if it didn't give her despair.

Love that Mukuro didn't even know about them going to Hope's Peak.

Once again Junko is the brains of the operation.

Love the friendship between Ryota and Twogami.

And it makes sense why Ryota is so focused and why he spends all his time on his talent.

It's all he had growing up he has to make it.

Has to.

Annnd Ryota passed out.

Poor guy.

Twogami, my dude there are better and easier ways to get someone to help you.

Rather than just grabbing Mikan and dragging her away.

Poor Mikan.

So Twogami realised he was struggling and got him to stay with him.

That's sweet.

Probably wasn't the best idea given it enabled him to overwork himself so much.

But still sweet.

I'm sad we don't get to know his name but I guess that's the point.

I like to think if he had one, Ryota knew it.

... AHHHH MAKOTO!!!

My boyyy!!

I didn't think we'd see him in the despair arc, or at least this early but here we are.

Oh Makoto, look at how happy and not traumatised he is.

Savour this moment.

His little pep talk to himself.

Annnd Junko's here narrating about her plan and drawing Monokuma.

Imagine telling her the random kid before her is the one who's gonna defeat her.

"Who knows maybe fate will drop someone into my lap."

Oh it will... And there he is.

Hi Hajime.

And incase we didn't know if already, Juzo's verbal and physical best down of Hajime was the final nail in the coffin and why he agreed to do the project.

Fuck you Juzo.

"You'll be fine."

... No... No he won't.

#danganronpa 3: the end of hope's peak high school #Danganronpa #ryota mitarai #byakuya twogami #makoto naegi #junko enoshima #mukuro ikusaba #long post

[cambria-writes]

happy spookmas everyone!

cranked this out at the very last second. shoutout to @anothermunsonsimp for encouraging this when i first brought it up (though i originally mentioned how pissed i was that the princess bride came out in 1987) and to @alovesongshewrote for being very enthusiastic about the concept of a halloween fic.

hope you're all having or have had a great day, regardless of current festivities! we will resume our regularly scheduled program on sunday. :)

rating: T warning: mostly just swearing, minor implied spoilers for ravenloft word count: 674

𝕴𝖙'𝖘 𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝕱𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗

Halloween, 1986

You check yourself in the hallway mirror for what feels like the hundredth time in the span of ten minutes. You adjust the poofy sleeves for the nth time, fiddle with the hair pieces again, and make sure the necklace is well centered. You know you’re being ridiculous, but your blood feels like it’s full of static and you’re considering going back to the bathroom to wipe the blush off your cheeks. The heat in them makes it feel redundant. 

You rush into the kitchen to look at the time on the stove before noisily making your way back to the hallway mirror to fluff up you hair. It’s not really your hair; Maggie from Genealogy somehow just happened to have the perfect clip-on hair extensions for you, that also just so happened to be curled just the way you needed. You’re honestly still shocked and still suspicious, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned this year, it’s to not look a gift horse in the god damn mouth. 

When you check the time again, you huff and reach for the phone on the wall next to the fridge. You’ve just dialed the first three numbers when you hear the head-splitting buzz announcing someone’s arrived at the door downstairs. 

You run to the front door, stuff a handful of twenties and a lighter in your bra and run out the door. 

The stairs are an unexpected challenge—even when you grip as much of the gown’s skirt as you can, you nearly fall down  three flights of stairs about five times. 

When you finally manage to make it through the building‘s lobby, you have to take a second to just. Look at Eddie. Take him in, just for a bit. 

It had taken weeks of pestering, convincing, and literally reciting essays to Eddie to get him to agree. Not only to do a couple's costume—that's too cheesy, he said, I have an image and reputation to maintain, he whined—but to dress up as fucking Jareth. 

You're only human. It's not like anyone with a pulse can resist David Bowie.

And in this moment, staring dumbly at Eddie in a ballroom get-up, with straightened hair, you're not sure how you're supposed to resist him, either. 

When Eddie looks up at the glass door and, consequently, at you, you choke on your own spit. You can hear him burst out into laughter, and the sound shocks you from your stupor. You burst out the door. 

"Hey! I almost fucking died! Don't laugh at me!" You shout, smacking at his should with both hands. 

"I yield, I yield!" he cries out, still laughing. 

When he's finally recovered enough, and pulled you out of the way of the building's door, Eddie holds you at arms' length. It's his turn to stare at you now. 

And stare. 

And... stare some more. 

You shuffle nervously on your feet, and clear your throat. 

"H-hey, c'mon, you're making me feel like I'm doing something wrong."

"No," Eddie says, so forcefully and instantly that it makes you jump. "Shit, sorry, I mean—no, you're. You look..."

"Strange? Nerdy? Larger?" You emphasize the last word by patting down the many layers of your gown's skirts.

Eddie huffs at you like you've just said the most ridiculous thing. "Magical. You look magical," He says, quietly, moving his hands from your shoulders to your face. "Absolutely enchanting. Bewitching. Mes—"

"Oh god stop," you groan, slapping his hands away and hiding your face behind your own hands. "You've made your point, I'm sufficiently flustered."

"Perfect," Eddie replies, and you can hear the smug tone in his voice. When you peek through your fingers, he's wearing the most obnoxious smug grin and crosses his arms. "That shade of pink looks better on you." 

You make a gagging sound but pull at one of his arms to wrap your own around. 

"Come on, nerd. We've got booze to drink and teenagers to pretend we're chaperoning." 

Eddie starts walking first as he's chuckling. 

"Please, they're going to be chaperoning you."

#eddie munson #stranger things #fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #halloween #halloween fic #labyrinth couple cosplay #can you believe i've never actually watched labyrinth #if i have the brain damage has made me forget lol #but it's david bowie #and look at the GOWN #the implication here is that reader got help from the other ladies in the library #to make the entire dress #mysteriously bolts of fabric would appear #the lady at the front desk suddenly has a bunch of champagne coloured appliqués just lying around her house #the library crew warms up to reader a lot after the whole Ordeal #also she has her own apartment now #and eddie and wayne are proper roomies with a better place now #that good old government hush money or whatever

[rotworld]

18: Stowaway

pirates commandeer the ship you're stowing away in, and one of them is a familiar face.

->explicit. contains dubcon, mentions of hard vore, mild gore, biting/blood kink, possessive behavior, implied captivity, terato

.

.

.

The screaming starts at night. 

You know it’s night because you’ve learned to tell time by sound alone. Sailors are punctual creatures once they’re on the water. The captain’s as loud and obnoxious as any rooster, up and crowing by daybreak. Footsteps shuffle across the deck. The anchor lifts, the sails flutter in the wind. You’ve got the morning to yourself, free to stretch your legs and wander the damp darkness of the hold. Someone might come to check the supplies and drag up some food once the sun’s climbed high into the sky, but you’ll be hidden again by then. Your only companions are the whisper of water caressing the hull and the creak of the ship. The lookout mutters to whoever’s unlucky enough to stay up with him throughout the night and things are quiet. 

But now they’re screaming. The deck creaks and heaves under panicked footfalls and the captain is shouting like it’s daybreak and there’s a rogue wave on the horizon. The words are indistinct, hard to make out. Pirates? You don’t hear gunfire or the rumble of the portside cannons. A mutiny? Is that enough to make them all scream for their lives?

Loud, heavy thuds start hitting the deck. People, you realize, as the noise dies down—bodies. It happens so fast. Screams and chaos and the sounds of a brief, futile scuffle, fading to silence and the whispers of a calm ocean. Wedged between crates and barrels against the back wall of the hold, you’re petrified. You picked this ship because it was big, well-armed, and staffed by Her Majesty’s navy. The risk of being discovered and tossed overboard was well worth it, you thought, if it meant a better chance of getting somewhere safely. 

There are people left. Barely a handful; you count no more than three. One smaller, lighter than the other two and their heavy footfalls. Is that all who survived, or are these the intruders? You can’t imagine just three of them overtook the whole ship. They start to pace. You hear them cross the deck and chatter to one another, their voices loud and distinct. Three men with unfamiliar accents.

“Mm, not bad, I guess,” one drawls. 

“Not bad? It’s huge and clumsy,” another scoffs, voice higher-pitched and boyish. “This thing could never make it through the Straits of Halyna.” 

“Doesn’t need to get us all the way through the Straits.” The last speaks sharply, his voice lower, rough and gravelly. “They’re paying well for naval ships in Highwater Grotto. Could commission whatever we want with that kind of gold.” 

Pirates after all, you think. This is bad. Highwater Grotto is dangerous and right back in the southern islands, the opposite way you wanted to go. There’s only three of them. They took out an entire naval crew. You have to try something. There are weapons in the captain’s quarters. You start to slide out of your hiding place but you freeze in place when you hear footsteps coming down the steps, below deck.

The smaller one. That’s good, you think. You’ll get a look at what you’re dealing with, figure things out from there. You shift slightly, trying to ease the tension in your legs, and the footsteps suddenly come to a halt. You hold your breath. He didn’t hear you, right? You barely made a sound. You hear a soft, amused laugh. 

“That’s so strange,” he says, his tone light and airy. Teasing, almost. Like he knows someone’s listening. “I could’ve sworn we killed everybody on board, but what’s that sound? That cute little pitter-pattering…” 

You stay completely, absolutely still, every muscle locking into place as a figure slips into the hold. Peering between supply crates, you see him. A swimmer’s build, lean and tapered. Smooth, slick-looking skin, still dripping seawater all over the hold. Short, silver hair sticks wetly to his face and he wears next to nothing, a length of water-logged fabric with delicate stitchwork and tinkling seashells wrapped around his waist and failing to conceal his half-hard cock. You know immediately what you’re looking at and it makes your blood run cold.

This man is a mer. The webbing between his digits and strange, bluish-gray complexion gives him away. They’re rare even among the wild stories of sailors, fearsome and bloodthirsty. They say you can tell there’s a bad storm coming if a pack of mers start to follow a ship. They wait for strong winds and rogue waves to wash someone overboard, and they leave nothing but bones. It’s terrifying to think that some have taken to piracy. It’s effortless for them. They don’t need any weapons with teeth, claws, and monstrous agility on land or at sea. It’s said they can split their tails and grow human legs, but most people think it’s just a rumor.

But it’s the truth. You knew that, even before this. You’ve seen a mer before a long, long time ago, when it dragged you out of the ocean and onto the safety of the beach. It stayed for a while. It licked your face and nuzzled against your cheek, and then it slipped into the rising tide, gone forever. 

This isn’t that sweet mer, though. This one is absolutely covered in blood, from the tips of his small claws to watery smears along his chest and the corner of his mouth. Up above, the other two are still pacing and chattering quietly. 

“We should start throwing things overboard, yeah? The smell will be awful soon if we don’t.” 

“Not all of them. We haven’t stopped for food in a while.” 

“There’s plenty to eat in the water, Azris.” 

“Wouldn’t be so squeamish if you tried one.”

The mer in the hold with you grabs your attention again when he shoves a barrel aside, creeping steadily closer to your hiding spot. “There it is again,” he says, his voice straining with quiet glee. “Ba-dum…ba-dum…sounds an awful lot like a scared little heartbeat. You can come out, it’s alright. I’m nice. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

He pauses, distracted by his own curiosity, snapping one of the crates open. The smell of salted meat hits your nose and he takes a testing bite, humming in pleasant surprise. “Oh, but Azris? Azris will hurt you bad if he finds you. Shereth, too, but he won’t enjoy it like Azris will. But I’d never do that. I think humans are cute like pufferfish, with your sad little eyes and the way you try to make yourselves look all big and tough when you get scared. So you can come out now. I’ll be so nice and gentle and it won’t even hurt, I promise.” 

He’s getting too close. You don’t have a choice; you have to make a run for it. It’s easier now that he’s cleared a path straight through the hold with all his poking around. You wait for the next time he loses focus, finding another barrel of food that makes him pause and sniff the lid. You make a break for the captain’s quarters. You need a weapon. That’s the only way to even the odds. You push over as many crates and barrels as you can but it makes no difference. The mer cackles and swats away every heavy wooden container that comes crashing into him. Your fingers scrape the door of the captain’s cabin just as you’re seized by clawed hands.

“Azris!” he shouts excitedly. “I found one! There’s a human! A human in the hold! I want this one!” Your shirt tears in the struggle to get free, vicious claw marks gouged into the back leaving your shoulders raw and oozing. You have no plan but distance, surviving another second. The mer swipes at you, throwing himself against the landing of the steps with a crash and a splintering of wood, just as you leap out of reach. 

You stumble into open, night air. The full moon is bright and rippling silver on the ocean’s surface, the clouds thin and fast-moving. Two more mers stand on the deck with glowing eyes, both of them larger than the first. You linger, paralyzed by fear, for just a second too long and the first mer comes barreling into you. It’s a hard nudge that must’ve been playful, you think, by the smile on his face, but his smile falls when you go stumbling over a broken bit of railing and plummet straight off the ship’s side.

You hit the water hard and everything hurts, the darkness of the ocean at night robbing you of your senses. You can’t tell which way is up. There’s motion around you, something more than the churning of the water. Something big.

A huge, muscular body slides against you. There was a fourth one, you think, but the fear fades with everything else as it all goes black. 

*

Someone is humming. That’s the first thing you hear when you wake up. A low, soothing melody drifts through the air. You roll over, sore and groggy. You feel waterlogged, too heavy to move. You hear voices, too, sharp and biting. An argument. You groan and the humming stops. You’re warm, you realize, and comfortable. Your bleary, weak eyes struggle to adjust, but you see wood wall panels, expensive furnishings, a heavy desk with a lamp, parchment and ink well spread across it. This is the captain’s quarters. You’re in his bed. You try to sit up but a hand falls on your shoulder.

“I’d stay down if I were you.” 

It’s one of the mers. He’s huge, the largest one you’ve gotten a clear look at. His skin is a dark, faded blue, his arms and shoulders speckled with lighter spots. His hair is black, tied into a long, loose ponytail, and gills quiver along his throat and sides. It surprises you that he’s so different from the other one, more recognizably inhuman with rippling fins extending from his arms and hips. He’s also much quieter. He speaks in a lazy mumble, not quite fully forming any of his words. 

“They’re deciding what to do with you. We took a vote, but it was a draw. Laguna’s not happy about it.” Laguna’s the smaller mer from before, by the sounds of things. You can hear his shrill voice outside the cabin doors, saying something about how it’s “not fair” and he’d “actually share, unlike the rest of you.” 

“I’m just a stowaway,” you say. “I’ll leave as soon as we make port.”

The mer nods slowly. He’s half-turned towards you, more concerned with the nautical map in his webbed hands. “Mm. We figured as much. Awful turn of luck.” You move to sit up again, but he pushes you back down without a word. “Stay down. Trust me. You should save your strength.” 

You don’t get a chance to ask why, because the argument outside dies with frightening suddenness, and then the cabin doors are thrown open. Laguna darts into the room faster than anyone can stop him, squeezing in beside the mer next to you. He’s about average height for a human but he looks comically small beside the other mer. “Look!” he whines, glancing back over his shoulder. “They’re so cute and helpless! They can’t even get out of bed! Please, can we keep this one? Come on, you guys never let me have anything!”

The other two mers are of similar size, bigger than Laguna but smaller than the speckled one. You saw one last night on the deck, his eyes luminescent. He’s bulky, broad-shouldered and heavily muscled. His chest and stomach are pale but he’s slate gray along his sides and back, covered head to toe in rough, old scars. His eyes are large and unnerving. No sclera, just solid, olive color and catlike pupils. Like the bigger one, he has more obvious fins and spines, all ragged and bitten. 

This one must be Azris, you think. He stalks closer, looming over Laguna to inspect you. You shrink back from his gaze nervously. Staring at one another in tense, uncomfortable silence, you start to get the strangest feeling of deja vu. 

Lying on your back, staring up at those odd eyes. The one you saw was smaller, scrawny, not covered in scars, but you were both younger then. You’re nervous and uncertain, not sure if you’re just seeing what you want to see, anything to dampen your fear, but then he reaches for you. Azris curls his hand into a fist, tucking his enormous claws against his palm. He brushes his knuckles against your cheek softly. The intensity in his expression isn’t gone. If anything, it’s stronger, his pupils widening ever so slightly. 

“Everyone out,” he rumbles.

Laguna bristles. “But—!”

“Everyone. Out,” he repeats, more sharply this time. The room empties. The mer holding the map rolls it up and saunters out, clapping a hand on Azris’ shoulder as he goes. Laguna grumbles but trots after him. One lingers in the open doorway. You don’t recognize him. He must’ve been the one in the water last night. His skin is close to Laguna’s, a subdued, washed out shade of blue, but there are patches and swirls of clashing black and white across his body. He’s scarred as heavily as Azris. He doesn’t say a word, shutting the door quietly as he leaves. 

Azris crouches beside the bed, large enough to remain at eye level with you. He doesn’t speak for a while, just taking in your features. He must be doing the same thing you are—seeing how you’ve grown and changed. “You shouldn’t look at me like that,” he murmurs.

“Like what?” you stammer.

“Like I’m going to save you.” He tosses the blankets aside and you realize for the first time you’re wearing no more than an oversized shirt, probably something pillaged from the captain’s closet. They must’ve stripped you last night after fishing you out of the sea. Azris’ gaze is cold as you curl up and try to cover yourself. “I’m sure you heard everything last night. I didn’t grow into a kind man.” He presses his thumb against the bruise on your hip where you hit the railing. “We’re headed for Highwater Grotto. What will you do?” 

“I’ll leave, if you’ll let me,” you tell him. You sit with your back against the wall, putting as much distance as you can between the two of you, but there’s not far to go. You’re well within reach. Azris proves it by ghosting his claws over your ankle. 

“Highwater’s not safe,” he says. “You’ll get kidnapped or killed if you’re on your own.” The hand toying with your ankle suddenly wraps around it, tugging hard. You’re pulled all the way down the bed despite your scrabbling and struggles. Azris climbs on top of you, a hand landing heavily beside your head. You freeze under him. The difference in size and strength is obvious. You’re not going to be able to fight him. “Shereth and Von want you gone. Dead, off the ship, doesn’t matter. You need different food than us, and you’ll be a distraction. Laguna wants to keep you, and they know that’s just cruel. You know what would happen then?” 

You shake your head, trembling. Azris’s gaze wanders your body, tracing your shape through the loose, draping garment. He tugs at the hem with his claws and slowly rips it in half, from the neckline down to your stomach. 

“He’d be all over you,” Azris says, speaking in a low, steady rumble against your ear. “I don’t think you could go even an hour without getting fucked. You’ll wake up under him and you’ll learn to fall asleep stuffed full of cock. And it’d probably get worse the longer you’re here. Shereth will complain and Von will feign disinterest, but I saw how they looked at you. It’s my fault. I’ve been telling them all about this human I met when I was younger and how it just felt right. How I waited around for glimpses of them for days, and then weeks, daydreaming about dragging them back into the water with me. How empty I was when they vanished.” 

Azris wears nothing, not even a sash like Laguna. A shiver runs down your spine at the pressure of not one, but two thick, heavy cockheads slowly filling against your thigh. His hands are on your knees, spreading your legs apart. He stares at your sex hungrily, licking his lips. The fact that he held onto the same memory all these years—that he was there longer than you even realized, that he lingered, watched you, saw you when you thought no one was looking—it’s terrifying, and a little thrilling.

“What about you?” you stammer. “What…what do you want to do?” 

“Isn’t it obvious?” You feel like a doll in his hands. He maneuvers you easily, lowering his head between your thighs and raising your hips, throwing your legs over his shoulders. Your heart skips a beat at the flash of endless, sharp teeth in his mouth but it’s too late to stop him. He leans in, pressing his tongue against your sex. The first lick is soft, almost hesitant, but your hitched moan emboldens him. One hand digs into the meat of your thigh, the other dipping between his legs. You hear the slick sound of him pleasuring himself as his mouth closes around you, tongue swirling around your sensitive flesh. 

“Always so careless,” he murmurs, the words half-muffled in your skin. You can’t properly listen when he punctuates his words with a hard suck, a mess of drool dripping down his chin. “Swimming where you shouldn’t…stowing away on a navy ship…were you hoping I’d be here? Did you want this as badly as I did?” 

Your legs tremble when he starts leaving open-mouthed kisses all over your sex, his tongue still working nice and slow along your flesh. “Azris,” you whimper. 

You feel him flinch. The growling sound he makes is low and animalistic, a pleasant vibration between your legs. “Say it again,” he murmurs. He sounds almost hoarse. He sucks on you harder and you give him what he wants, his name the only thing you can get out between gasps and breathless moans. You’re nearly at the edge when he stops suddenly, lifting his head. He licks your pleasure from his lips, pupils blown wide, panting. 

For just a moment, you see the mer you remember. He’s eager but timid, gazing at you with nervous longing. You hadn’t spoken to each other back then. He’d swam away and you never learned his name. You should be frightened, knowing what you know now. But you find yourself reaching for him, just as he reached for you earlier. You touch the strangely textured skin of his face, smooth but somehow rough, bumpy if you rub it the wrong way. “Shereth is right,” he mutters. “I shouldn’t. It isn’t right. When we get to the grotto—” 

“I want you to,” you tell him. The words spill out before you can catch them. Azris stares, wide-eyed and disbelieving. He waits for you to take them back. You think about it. But you don’t. “I don’t have a plan,” you admit. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, or where I’ll go. I’ve just been drifting for a long time now. I keep coming back to the water. I keep hoping…”

You don’t finish the thought. You don’t have a chance. Azris flips you onto your stomach with dizzying speed and then he’s on top of you, his shuddering breath warming the nape of your neck. Without warning, he bites you. His teeth are sharp and serrated, the agony instant as he saws into your flesh, and you think for just a moment that you’ve made a mistake. 

But then he lets go. With a growl and trembling effort, he wrenches his teeth out of your skin. The wound stings and oozes, his tongue lapping up blood that beads to the surface. You’re so distracted by the sudden change in sensation that you’re only distantly aware of his hands on your hips. He leaves you at an embarrassing angle, your hips raised and your head buried in the pillows. One of his cocks catches on your entrance, the other sliding between your thighs and rubbing against your sex. 

His voice is barely human, more growl than words. “It’s going to hurt,” he warns you. That’s your only warning before he bucks his hips. It’s not slow or gentle. He forces himself all the way in just a few frantic thrusts, his hips slapping your ass. You can feel his second cock pulsing, little spurts of precum coating your inner thighs as he settles even more heavily on top of you. You’re mounted like an animal, the bed creaking under you. Your hands twist in the sheets. It’s hard to breathe. 

Azris notices. He eases up just a bit, both of his large palms splayed on the bed. You feel him trembling, second-guessing again. “I’m okay,” you tell him. Your voice is a strained whisper. “I’m okay. I want this.” 

“I know you do. That’s why this is so hard.” He rolls his hips gently, testing, letting out a groan when it makes you shudder and arch your back. “I don’t think you really understand what you’re getting yourself into. Maybe that’s a good thing.” His next thrust is harder. Your thighs shake and you bite the pillow, holding back a whimpering sound. Azris drapes himself across your back and his teeth graze your shoulder. He noses against your throat, pressing sharp nips along the side. “You’ll just have to find out,” he murmurs. “And by the time you do, it’ll be too late. You won’t be able to leave.” 

Nothing can prepare you for when he stops holding back. Azris raises his hips and then pounds into you. Your body struggles to take every hard, punishing thrust, inner walls spasming and clenching around his cock. The other one spurts again, a thin puddle of cum gathering under your legs. You wonder, dizzily, if this is how mers mate with one another, one mounting the other on the seafloor or in the sand, the other arched in submission. His teeth scrape your neck and shoulders, nipping and biting, sinking in harder whenever you so much as squirm beneath him. He mutters under his breath, his voice feverish and the words slurred, “Mine, you’re mine, never letting you go, never again…”

It’s too much. You can’t cum like this, not with agony radiating from a dozen throbbing bites across your shoulders, not with his cock slamming into you so hard and fast you can barely breathe. Pleasure, when it comes, is razor-sharp and unpleasant. Azris’ nerves are frayed and he interprets every twitch as a challenge, every flinch and shiver as an attempt to escape him. He pins both of your wrists above your head with one clawed hand, the other adjusting your posture when you start to sag. Dimly, you think he should have cum by now, the thought gradually chased away by the rhythm of his hips slapping into you and the mind-numbing stretch. 

Something in the bed frame snaps and you feel it shudder under you. Azris doesn’t stop. The sound seems to excite him. His teeth graze your neck and you’re briefly aware of your discomfort, the cold wetness of cum drying to your thighs and all the blood staining the sheets.

You nearly sob with relief when he starts to lose rhythm, growling, his hips frantic as he starts to spill inside of you. Both of his cocks pulse with waves of climax, white, sticky ropes coating your stomach. There’s so much that it foams up around his length and trickles slowly down your thighs. You feel warm and full and utterly exhausted.

Azris laps at his bites apologetically, the fever seemingly to clear from his mind, but he doesn’t pull out. Your moans are pained as he turns you, settling onto his side with you spooned against his chest. He’s still hard, still thick and long and filling you. He moves his hips in slight, grinding motions and your mind whites out. It feels so filthy and so good. 

“Get some sleep,” he murmurs. You want to wash off and change the sheets, but you’re too tired to complain about the mess you’re laying in. His hand smooths down your side and rests on your hip, thumb gently stroking the indentations of his claws in your skin. The adrenaline of the moment passes. You’re uncertain about what you just did, but you suspect it’s too late now.

Azris nips your ear. He humps against your ass and the cock sandwiched between your legs twitches. “I know it’s not fair,” he says, smoothing your sweat-soaked bangs out of your face. “But you remember all those things I said about Laguna? I wasn’t lying. They’re all true. But,” he chuckles, his teeth sinking into your nape again, “I’m a lot worse.”

#rotpeach writes #goretober #original

[thatmomwitchfriend]

Just Shelly

Buildings Burn, People Die; But, Love Is Forever

That fateful night, you know the one, Shelley manages to escape with her life. Barely. But, the love of her life, the man she was to marry the very next day, didn't get so lucky.

TW: grief, death, loss of a partner, heavy hints toward necro, disrespect of hallowed ground, smoking, hints of non-con

CHANGES FROM THE ORIGINAL SOURCE MATERIAL, THIS IS A REIMAGINING!!!

word count: 3,962

When Shelley heard the pounding at the door, her heart jumped. She knew it couldn’t be Eric. Not this early. He had gone out to the bar with the boys, his ‘last hurrah’ as the group had called it (much to Eric’s bemusement). She stepped onto the hardwood floor of their apartment, a chill running the length of her spine from the temperature in the air. The pounding came again, more urgent this time. “All right! Hold your horses!” She shouted, rolling her eyes. She knew the door was locked, chained and dead bolted. She had nothing to worry about if it was Eric. She hoped it was. GOD, she hoped it was. She had heard the sirens going all night so far, racing up and down the streets. Chasing hoodlums across the city and back. What else did she expect, living in the city center of Detroit this close to Halloween? “Who’s there?” She called out, damning the shake in her voice.

Silence.

Her cold hands scrambled for the gun that Eric kept in the drawer of the small table in their entrance hall. “I’m armed!” She called out, “don’t even think about breaking in here!” A beat went by where there was nothing from the outside hall again. Then, there it was. She listened as hard as she possibly could. Was that….a giggle? Her hands fell to her sides heavily, relief washing over. “Eric, I almost shot you!” She yelled, placing the gun back in it’s place before undoing the locks and throwing the door wide. In an instant, she was swept up in his arms, a kiss being placed to her jaw gently.

“I’m sorry, love. I had to. A little spook to keep you on your toes before we’re married.” He muttered against her skin. “Can’t get too comfortable in this neighborhood, can we?” Not a moment together after he got home, and there was already someone else pounding on their door. “Who the absolute fuck?” He all but growled. She LOVED that, shivering with the idea of what he had been thinking about before the knock had sounded through the space. “I’ll get it.” He turned back to face the door just as it was viciously kicked open from the hall. A shriek left Shelley, ducking for cover from flying pieces of their door frame. The gang of men that rushed through the door were unkempt, reeked of alcohol and cigarettes, and looked like they had been dragged through a puddle of mud on their way there.

“What do you want?” Eric reached for the gun as the men advanced, eyes hungry and dark as they spotted Shelley cowering behind him. Nasty smirks spread across their faces as they saw their own scenarios playing out, whatever vile it was they had in their minds when they saw a woman they knew they could never touch otherwise. A sharp spit from Shelley at the groups feet seemed to jerk them out of their haze, mouths twisting into harsh grimaces.

“Oh, nothing. Just coming in to check the condition of housing in our fair city, what do you think boys?” Their leader, the pair assumed, started shouting as he strolled around their home. He began tearing things off the walls, kicking the legs off antique furniture they had picked together, ripping holes in the curtains on their windows and drapes on their walls.

“No!” Shelley gasped out, tears streaming down her face more with each act of destruction. “Oh, you don’t want us to fix this cheap shit?” FunBoy turned to look at her from the corner of his eye, a sneer painting his face. “Shut her up, TinTin.”

“Don’t touch her!” Eric roared, charging to fill the space between his fiancée and the men still in the door. TinTin faltered, eyes on the gun in Eric’s hand. But, he was soon spurred by a sharp whistle leaving the mouth of FunBoy. That whistle seemed all he needed to gain his confidence back, striking Eric across the face with a resounding crack, dropping him to the floor in an instant. A scream tore from Shelley’s gut as she tried reaching for Eric’s prone form on the floor in front of her. She barely made it to his feet before she was ripped up by her hair, head jerking back as she was dragged over to the bed and tossed down onto her back.

The next few hours were Hell for Shelley. These disgusting men each had their go with her, twisting her around to their liking, sometimes even so much that she cried out in pain. That didn’t really change anything, all it got her was a crack across the face, leaving a stinging red mark that burned when her tears tracked across each new one. Eric hadn’t moved from his spot yet, not that they gave him the chance. Every time he so much as groaned, he was kicked with the thick heel of a boot, or rammed with the butt of a gun so hard that he passed right back out. This went on for hours, until they were well spent out on sex for the night. Satisfied, the gang of street trash zipped up their pants, turning with devilish glee towards the figure of Eric, still on the floor. “What about this one?” T-Bird asked, nudging him with the toe of his boot.

“Kill him.” FunBoy spat, “do whatever you want. I’m late for a date.” He stalked out of the apartment, a chorus of screams following him out. Shelley begged them to leave Eric alone. To take her instead. She would do anything, but she just wanted Eric alive. She could deal with death if she knew Eric had the chance to keep going. To get signed by a label with Hangman’s Noose, to move out to California and record in a real studio. She wanted him to live and thrive. The others tuned her out, brushing her off with little energy as they brought him to his feet and dragged him towards the big gothic rose window that opened onto the street below. 

Shelley couldn’t watch, her fight gone. Her eyes closed, tears still streaming down her face as she looked away. With each gunshot that rang out, she knew she would never get the chance to see him smile again. The crash of glass breaking shattered her out of her stupor as the men pitched the love of her life out the now gaping window. Her feet floated over the mess they had made of her home as she rushed past the pleased fucks that did all of this, her hands slicing open on what was left of the glass as she sobbed down over the edge of the building. Her screams ringing out in the street, mixing shortly with the sound of sirens from just a block over. On her way back across the floor, her feet felt every shard of glass, every splinter of wood and shattered ceramic piece. She trudged down the stairs, floor by floor, and out into the night. It had started raining sometime over the course of her assault. She wasn’t sure when. But the rain was cold. She didn’t mind at all, it cooled the flush from her chest and face; it washed the blood from her hands and feet as she stood there shivering in the pitch dark under the broken streetlight. 

It only took a moment for the first car to pull up. She stared blankly at the officer that stepped out. “Woah, there, sweetheart. What happened?” He coaxed her to sit in his back seat, the warmth from inside blasting across her back, bare from where the group had torn her clothing in their fervor. Only in the safety of the Officers presence did she let herself start to cry again. In broken sobs, she recounted the past few hours to him, nodding and rubbing her back gently. Another car pulled up, shortly followed by the coroners van. The sight of that sent her over the edge again, sobbing into the Officers jacket. “It’s all right, let’s get you to the station and we can get you cleaned up and into some dry clothes.” She only nodded, all she could muster before she was hit with realization. 

“Wait!” She jumped to her feet, hardly wincing from the glass coating the soles of her feet. “I want to see him. Please. I need to tell him I love him.” She shook as she stood there, waiting for the nod that came seconds later. A call over the walkie talkie was made to let her through, and a path opened up almost immediately. That path, this aisle, gave her chills. She checked the time through the broken glass of her watch to find that it was officially Halloween. How odd, she though. That she would still be taking a walk down an aisle towards Eric on Halloween. A demented giggle bubbled over her lips, tears starting again as she took the rest of the path in three large strides and fell to her knees next to his body. The officers around the couple removed their caps, holding them over their hearts. Devil’s Night was always hard, but none of them could remember one like this in their time with the force. Shelley let everything out, laying over Eric’s chest and gripping onto his shirt. Her hands scrambled for purchase on the slick fabric, blood and rain mingling in the puddles between her fingers and knees. The officers gave her all the time she needed, until a voice called out from behind them. 

“Shelley? Eric!” Heavy boots ran towards her as she straightened up and caught the lithe form of the girl racing into her arms. “What happened? Are you ok? He-….” She cut off, catching sight of the man that could have easily been a father to her. “Eric, no…” she searched Shelley’s face, begging with her eyes to be told that this was a cruel joke.

“I’m so sorry, Sarah. I’m so so sorry, I know you loved him, I did too. We do. We love him.” She pushed the girls wet hair out of her face, nodding fast. “Come with me to the station. I’ll tell you what happened. You’re a tough girl. But’ it’s ok. I’ve got you still.” Secretly, Shelley was glad that Sarah had shown up when she did. She was dreading having to tell her that Eric was gone from them. The two held each other in the rain for a few more moments, each having a hand resting on the mans chest that they had both loved so much in life. 

~~~~~2 years later~~~~~

“You ready, kiddo?” Shelley called out into the small home she had purchased this past year, right outside the main city limits. She slung a leather jacket over her form, one that seemed too large on her. But, she fell so comfortably into it’s folds and wear. Sarah came out from her own room, zipping her jacket up to her chin.

“Yep, let’s go.” She grabbed her skateboard from against the wall and walked out to the car while Shelley locked up the front door and checked it three times. A habit she had picked up ever since the break in. Climbing into the front seat, only after dropping the board onto the back seat, she settled in and buckled her belt. Out the front window, she could see the hesitation to leave. This always happened, not just on the anniversary. Shelley didn’t like leaving home anymore. You would think things would be the complete opposite, but her attachment to home had only grown since they two had settled into the cottage style home. “You ok?” She called out her still open door. The older woman only shook herself from her reverie and started towards the car, climbing into the drivers seat and buckling up. 

“Yeah, let’s get going. I think he said he would be there around three to show us around.” She noted, starting up the engine and pulling out from the driveway, heading back towards the city. She hated traveling into the city, but she had come across an opportunity to turn their old apartment into a boutique. Something she had always dreamed of doing anyway. Owning her own little shop, filling it to the brim with curiosities and gothic fashion. Now, she was presented with the perfect space to do that. Was it odd that she almost hoped for a haunting? “What are you thinking about, Sarah?” She asked, the girl had been quiet since puling out of the driveway. 

She only shook her head, smiling over at her caretaker. Ever since her mother had completely abandoned her for that drugged out piece of shit boyfriend of hers, Sarah had grown so much as a person. Shelley was teaching her so much about being a young woman, about life and love. Something her mother could have never done for her. “Just Eric.” She sighed gently. “Yeah, me too.” Shelley agreed. “How about we visit him after the showing?” Sarah brightened up at that, knowing they frequented his grave, so the man had one of the best manicured grave sites in the entire city. “Yeah, he should know what’s going on with the old place.” She chimed. “He deserves it, he would love that you’re doing this.” She said, reaching for her mentors hand. A soft nod was afforded as the car turned onto the street where it had happened. The pair fell quiet as they approached the building, both pairs of eyes trained on the still gaping window. 

“How eerie is that?” Shelley pondered, throwing the vehicle into park and cutting the engine. “Well, here we are. You ready?” She caught a quick nod from the younger and, in unison, they stepped out of the car. Sarah came around to meet Shelley and took her hand as they crossed they street towards the hulking building. Up the stairs they went, and fell still at the threshold of the apartment. “Wow. This is…hard.” She admitted, as if she hadn’t wanted to. “Hey, it’s ok. You’ve got this, you’re brilliant.” Shelley nodded and steeled herself as she stepped through the door, still off it’s hinges. The creak of old hard wood floor under her feet gave her chills like she hadn’t had in two years. Her eyes trailed around the still wrecked, but now empty, space. The pair jumped at the sound of a third voice from behind them.

“Glad you two found the place. Can’t have been hard, though.” Thomas, the realtor Shelley was working with smiled. “How you finding it?” He asked softly. He knew this was going to be an easy sell, but he still wanted to be nice to the woman. He knew the story. Everyone did.

“Yeah, it looks rough. But, then, it can’t exactly have been easy to get anyone to come clean out after…” she trailed off. “But yeah, it looks the same. Just empty. You know?” She was fighting emotion. Sarah gave her hand a gentle squeeze and a confident smile. “It’s just hard for her, Tom. But thanks for finding it for us, it means a lot.” She spoke up. The man only nodded. 

“Well, let me know when you ladies are ready, I’ve got the contract in my car if you decide to take it.” He pardoned himself, closing the door behind him. The pair walked around the space again, hands trailing over familiar surfaces, warped now from weather and time. Surfaces that held so many memories. Shelley sighed, eyes closing as she recalled so many things her and Eric had done here. A flush rose to her cheeks as she caught sight of the built in bed platform the two had shared, over the course of their love together that bed had seen so much. Sarah followed her eyes and screwed her face into a scrunch. “Oh, yuck!” 

A laugh bubbled between the two as Shelley scooped Sarah into a hug. “Thank you. I wouldn’t be doing this if it weren’t for you.” She whispered, breath tickling the hairs at the back of Sarahs neck. “Yeah of course. I’m here for you just as much as you’re here for me.” She pulled away from the hug and grinned at her. “Now, let’s go sign that contract and get to work on fixing this place up to be a shop.” She laughed. “Let’s go!” She grabbed onto Shelley’s hand and started down the stairs to meet Tom at his car. 

Not long after, they found themselves with the keys to the door in hand, along with a copy of the contract. Shelley was, once again, the owner of the home in which her fiancé met his untimely demise. And, she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that yet.

The hours found them once again sitting on the patch of grass above Eric’s grave again. Shelley replaced the roses in the vase, deep purple this time. “Hey, you. How’s death treating you?” She asked softly, placing a kiss to the top of the tombstone. “We miss you. But, we have some good news.” She spoke softly, other families were about and she didn’t want to disturb them.

“We bought the old apartment!” Sarah, though, didn’t have as much couth. “We’re gonna turn it into a goth boutique, just like Shelley always wanted!” The youth was practically buzzing. Shelley just laughed, she couldn’t help it. Sarah’s happiness was infectious. 

The two spent a few more hours visiting with their lost love before deciding to head home. Upon getting there, though, the door was wide open. No lights had been turned on. But, something was off. Shelley pulled a small handgun from underneath her seat and ordered Sarah too stay put while she checked the house out. She left the door cracked so as not to alert whoever was inside of their presence, if they hadn’t already heard the car in the drive. She snuck inside, tip toeing all the while. Room by room, she searched. Nobody seemed to be there at all, when, out of nowhere the front door slammed shut. Her feet raced to the front of the house where she was met with a sight she hadn’t seen in two years. “Look who I found!” Sarah beamed. And the world went black for Shelley.

~~~

When Shelley came to, the room was dark. But she was in her own bed. A dark figure sat in the armchair by the window, and as she stirred, his head snapped up to check on her. “It can’t be…” she trailed off as she was met with the sight of her fiancé at her bedside. She inhaled deeply, sitting up against the headboard. It was definitely him. His scent; he smelled of leather, tobacco, faintly of electricity if it had a smell, and now of fresh dirt. His lips curved into a faint smile as he watched her, green eyes sparking in the moonlight that was cutting through her curtains. She couldn’t help herself. Shelley launched herself upwards and into his arms, pressing her lips to his. Black grease paint smeared with the desperation of them both. They had missed each other, that was for sure. And the love was still there. Even death couldn’t break that. A groan came from Eric’s throat as he laid her back against her pillows and trailed his lips down her neck, leaving a streak of black in his wake. 

Her breath became short as he reached her collar. “Shelley, I’ve missed you.” His lips paused their assault on her skin for a brief moment. Her hands, locked into his dark curls, pulled his face back up to meet hers. His body leaned perfectly against hers, and OH, it was Eric all right. Tears sprang to her eyes as she let out her only desperate question. “How?” He only shook his head.

“I’m not sure.” His lips found hers again, cold, but welcome as always. She had dreamed of him coming back to her. But of course she had never thought that it could or would ever happen. The lovers bodies twisted together as they always had, legs knotted and arms wound. Fingers gripped into each others hair, or nails latched into each others skin. “I want to see them” she whispered between kisses, tipping her head back to allow herself room to speak. “Please, Eric.” He paused again. This time, his stillness wasn’t comfortable. He wasn’t sure that he wanted her to see anything of what had caused his death. But he could never say no to Shelley. He thought for a second before nodding softly. Untangling himself from her was harder than he thought it would be; and, leaning his torso against the headboard, he tugged his shirt over his head. Shelley was entranced. 

There he was in front of her again, the skin of his chest bare to her. But, in this moment, that wasn’t her concern. Her eyes followed the curve of his stomach, down to the three puckered scars on his abdomen. Her hands began to shake as she reached out, running her fingers gently over the scars. “Oh, Eric.” She sniffled. “I’m so sorry.” She let out a short sob. His arms were back around her in an instant. 

“No, baby. Don’t say that. It wasn’t your fault.” He comforted her as she cried. Eventually, her tears came to a stop and she laid against his chest, cheek pressed to his collar. She decided to take advantage of her positioning and lay soft kisses across the spot she knew drove him wild. He inhaled sharply, muscles jolting under her. “Shelley.” He groaned out softly. “Sarah is in the next room Plus, I’m dead. I don’t know if it works like that anymore.” He admitted, a bit ashamed.

“So? That doesn’t mean I can’t love you.” She mumbled, lips still to his cool skin. “Please, just humor me.” She begged. He nodded, rolling to pin her under his body, a knee placed between her thighs and his elbows caging her down, torturously close to his lips. “You want to feel me in bed with you again, is that it?” He asked, nosing her head to the side and continuing his assault of the soft skin below her jaw. She nodded, a soft mewl escaping her lips as her breath caught in her throat. “Yes…” he only smiled down at her and let a hand trail down her body, feeling the skin he had been longing for, for the past two years. Finally.

~~~

Morning sun came streaming through the same crack in the curtain that had revealed Eric to Shelley the night before. But, Eric was gone. The bed was mussed from where he had laid, and the pillow showed proof of his grease paint (she would talk to him about that later) but she could smell pancakes and coffee from the kitchen. A groan left her as she reached her hands above her head, stretching out. She rustled about until she found her pajama shorts and tank top discarded at the foot of the bed, and upon dressing followed the smell out to the small kitchen. 

There, at the kitchen table, cigarette hanging between his lips was the love of her life. Half alive? Half dead? Who cared? He was hers again. She smiled and placed a cup of the fresh coffee in front of him. “I thought you quit smoking.” She said, placing a kiss to his cheek.

He chuckled lightly, grinding it out in the empty cup he had from earlier. “Yeah, well. Dying will do that to a man.”

#The Crow #Eric Draven #Fanfic #fan fiction #request #requests #open requests #fanfic requests #Shelley Webster #halloween #mischief night #writing #the crow 1994

[kokinu09]

The Way Home

Part 1 | Part 2

A/N : I’m back with a part 2! Maybe someday I’ll be able to share this as a full fic on AO3! 😂 I’ll stop talking, enjoy~!!

💥Trigger Warning : someone’s gone missing, depressive moods, happy reunion (?)

Word count : 793

~*~

The call goes to voicemail again.

“This isn’t like him,” Han says with a bite in his tone. “Something’s wrong!”

“Obviously,” Seungmin let out in a humorless snort. “Wouldn’t you wanna be alone right now too?” Han glares at him for his coldness.

The younger held his gaze firmly, too emotionally spent to care anymore. He’s as angry and sad about Felix being eliminated as the rest of their group but he also respects that Felix wants to be alone.

But…it did feel odd that he’d ignore all of them for this long…

“Of course, we all would. But Felix isn’t like this. And you know it, too.” Han finally resigned with a heavy sigh. Seungmin looks away at that, his anger bubbling up for Felix. Tears burn his eyes thinking of his hyung suffering all by himself.

Changbin looks up from his phone where he’d just sent another worried text to Felix’s number from hearing their bickering. Seeing the look on the younger’s face, he decides to interject. “Have you tried calling Minho yet?” He asks, directing the question to Han as distraction.

All of them are stressed, emotional, and exhausted causing tension in the air but now was not the time to argue with one another.

Han moves to sit next to him on the sofa, plopping down in a huff. “Yeah, like 20 minutes ago. He’s not with him either,” any blossoms of hope wither away in Changbin’s chest.

“Damn,” he mutters in defeat.

Han lays his head on his shoulder. “Maybe Seungmin’s right,” Han offers. “Maybe he just wants some time alone.” His gaze flicks towards the younger a couple feet away and their eyes meet in a brief moment of understanding and solemn show of comfort.

Silence stretches and settles between them, minds drifting with worry and grief. Suffering together yet so alone. They just want their brother back. Back in the group. Back in the dorms. To just answer their calls. To know he’s safe. Wherever he is.

The door suddenly opens, all three boys whipping around to see who it is. Only to instantly deflate back into their spots when it’s just Chan, Jeongin, and Hyunjin filing in. “You scared us! We thought you were Lixie-ah!” Changbin shouts too loudly.

But Chan isn’t in a joking mood. “Did you guys hear anything from him?” The three shake their heads as their chins lower, the somber aura returning to the room around them. Chan sighs heavily as he sifts a hand through his hair. “Us either.”

Hyunjin and Jeongin get comfortable on the couches, Hyunjin dramatically draping himself across both Changbin and Han’s laps while the maknae finds himself sliding in next to Seungmin just across from them. “I’m so worried!” Hyunjin whines, earning hair pets from Changbin.

“As if you’re the only one,” Jeongin grumbles with a roll of his eyes. He’s clearly been listening to the artist’s dramatics far too much already at that point.

“Enough you two. We shouldn’t be fighting,” Chan scolds. If you could call it scolding. His tone with them was too gentle. As if they would break if he was too harsh. Like he was afraid he’d lose them too.

The sound of the door opening again sends another jolt through the room, all eyes landed on Minho standing in the doorway.

“Lino!” Han yips, nearly sending Hyunjin tumbling to the floor as he vaults over the back of the sofa to engulf the older boy in a tight hug. Minho let out a breathy chuckle as he stabilized them both to not fall to the floor.

“I missed you too, Hannie,” he says softly, patting his back. “No time for a warm and fuzzy reunion though,” he adds, holding him at arm’s length to look around at his friends’ faces.

“Have we found where Bbokie is staying?” He directs to Chan. Their leader seems frozen as he stares in shock at him. Minho’s really there. Standing right there. The same heartbreak they were feeling over Felix’s elimination had only happened a few weeks ago with Minho. But Minho is here.

The realization seems to snap him out of his daze. Chan smiles a genuine smile, stepping forward to hug Minho almost as tightly as Han just had.

After a few moments, he pulls back and throws an arm over his and Han’s shoulders. The younger yelping in surprise from suddenly being pulled closer.

“No, but since we’re all here now, maybe we can,” Chan says, new determination burning in his eyes. “Guys, we have a new mission!”

The group turns their full attention to their leader. Some on the edge of their seats while others even finding themselves on their feet in anticipation.

“Find Felix and bring him home.”

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