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wolven91 · 11 months

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Slugs & Apes - Chapter 2

The looming alien remained still, like a monolith.

The only thing that betrayed that he was even alive was the steadily expanding chest before it mesmerizingly shrunk back down. It was... alluring in a strange yet exotic way. No one Blarah knew could move in such a deliberate and measured manner. It was one thing to hear about the ‘solids’ and the bipeds, but to see one was… nothing could have prepared her.

The second proof that he wasn't simply made of metal or stone were his eyes. Colourful things unlike the deep solid black of Sluggat-kind. White and green, they flicked left and right as they attempted to focus intently on one of her eye stalks at a time.

Why couldn't it just do what a normal person should do in polite conversation and use both its eyes to look at both of her eyes! To stare so intently at one was.. was.. lewd and very forward.

The poor overwhelmed sluggat moistened her eyes with deliberate slowness, and began to speak in the brief respite from his overwhelming gaze. Her mantra repeated again and again; ‘She was not some easily seduced floozy’.

The lie was comforting and easy to comprehend, even if she was well aware of its flimsy nature.

"Of - of course I can help, where were you trying to get to?" The young slug said in as professional a tone as she could muster.

"I was greeted by a rather large representative, a blue hue to him? However he asked me to go to the waiting lounge as he was called away. It seems the freighter we piggybacked through the jump with to get here needed his attention..."

"That sounds like the dockmaster, I can contact him and see if he wants to meet you here or if we need to send you away?"

"Ah, thank you, I'd really appreciate that."

Blarah began to type in the old slugs contact number as she tried to release the tension in her body. His voice, the deep vibrations that he blasted through the air directly at her in the tiny quiet office had rolled over her without mercy.

A grunt came from the communication device.

"Ah, sir? The human got a bit turned around and is in the administration office, do you want to come up and get him or should he make his way to you?" Blarah asked carefully.

The old dockmaster; Blargh, was an old and rightly huge sluggat with the blues common to his home planet's race. Sluggats after all never stopped growing, albeit slowly, as they aged. Blargh was probably the oldest most would have encountered and had the mass to back it up, although he had never actually said how old he really was.

"Urgh, uh, no.. take him to the diplomatic room prepared for him. I'll update your clearance now.."

"Wait, no sir, im- I'm quite swamped right now, we need someone else to-.."

"There; it's done, be sure to be polite, you're his liaison until the Big Slime says otherwise. Once he clears you; come back and you can catch up, I'll pay you double time while you're away and until you're back on track. .." the line cut off without so much as a farewell or chance for her to voice her protest.

She wasn't opposed to helping the alien, she wasn't one of these nutjobs that had demanded that not only the humans be denied entry into the Community, but petitioned for their abandonment without a home due to them not technically being considered ‘sentient’ by outdated classifications.

She felt sorry for this new species that were so alone in their troubles in a cruel and dry universe.

But now, as she undulated with anxiety in the presence of one, they were, for lack of a better word, alarmingly, alien.

"Sorry if I'm causing you problems, but I really am grateful for your help." His face contorted, it seemed the only part of his flesh that was normal and alive, but even then; only parts moved and folded as she would expect. At the moment his mouth had stretched wide to the sides while the flesh around his eye holes crinkled up in what she tentatively labelled as 'happy'?

"It's alright, let's get to the lift." She said waving a wet tentacle. She stopped at the door to hit the lights, leaving the human briefly in the dark, just as the slappy, slick sounds of someone moving at speed came down the corridor.

Pleppany appeared in a rush and skidded to a stop in front of Blarah, out of breath and began to talk at the bemused sluggat.

"He wasn't on the freighter! He was on a transport that flew WITH the freighter, he landed over an hour ago!" She explained to Blarah, gesturing out the window and the massive ore freighter that was still inching its way into the dock on the other side of the window.

"He's loose and no one knows where he is! I'm going to miss my chance!" She groaned, practically losing all cohesion and puddling outwards on the floor.

"'Is she alright?" An earthquake-like voice rumbled not scant centimetres from Blarah's body.

Two opposite things happened at once that flew past the Human's notice.

Firstly, Pleppany did a fantastic impression of a human by coming to a complete frozen stand still, her eyes stalks shooting up and holding ramrod straight in shock.

Meanwhile, Blarah practically melted as the waves from his voice caused her skin to wiggle and roil. It took every scrap of her will power to prevent her eye stalks from becoming limp in the effects of his voice in such close proximity.

There was no denying it. He knew what he was doing, what he was doing to Blarah. Him and his hard skeleton and his.. his vocal sorcery!

She would have to address it sooner rather than later, but Pleppany, a credit to her craft, had re-coalesced and stood up again, rippling in the same manner as she did when she wanted the fast food slugs to get her extra portions or preferential treatment.

Pleppany had no shame as she oozed forwards and undulating, with practised ease, began to 'work' the Human as she had been trained to when seeking out a story.

"So! The mysterious humans finally made it to our humble corner, we're so glad you've made it; how was your trip?"

"It was alright, much quicker than our own transports."

"Oh yes, we're glad you're impressed with them, I suppose they're very confusing to you?" She continued, getting too close for comfort now as she tried to slosh herself between the human and Blarah. Pleppany continued without waiting for the Human to respond.

"I suppose you could do with a guide? I know all the best places on the station and both for socialising and getting some quiet time..."

The human’s face wrinkled again, but his mouth remained still, it was the flesh between his eyes that wiggled this time, as the two sets of dense whiskers that ran over his eye slots briefly came together or at least closer for a moment.

"Actually, I'm okay without. I have a guide for now thank you." He stated in a firmer tone than before. His own straight tentacle unfolded and extended past Pleppany's back before settling against Blarah's upper back, who had made a point not to be pushed away by the interloper, but now, with appendage touching her back, the harder, smaller tentacles pushed gently into her moist flesh to encourage her forward before relenting and folding back against his own side.

She got the message and surged forward, leaving the bewildered Pleppany in the snail trail.

Blarah had experienced several times in the past what Pleppany was probably only getting to live through for the first time now; rejection.

Maybe he wasn't as bad as she thought, although he was still a cad for flirting so aggressively.

With no further delays and in merciful silence they reached the transporter that would slide along the rails that crisscrossed the Station and deposit them as close as possible to their destination.

Her credentials were indeed now on par with the high class sluggats of the station which allowed her to select the diplomatic quarters near the top of the station, a far cry from her own quarters half way down and the middle of the Station's guts.

"So she was intense..." came a quiet rumble.

"That was Pleppany, a friend. She just thinks she needs to use her looks to get what she wants. Deep down she's actually quite insecure..." Blarah said, rippling in embarrassment and being honest in an attempt to defend her friend.

"I can understand that, I meant nothing by it..." the rumbling thunder said again. She had to keep taking deep breaths to remain steady and firm.

They stared out the window together as the transport rolled along towards their destination.

"My names Gregory by the way, or Greg for short..." Her mind was filled with rolling rain clouds over a parched savanna.

"Blarah, a pleasure to meet you." She demurely responded, a slight dip as she bobbed her entire body in respect.

A moment ticked by, followed by a second.

"This is why I'm here, you know..."

They stared out into deep space in silence together.

The rolling darkness that was the edge of space wasn't as black as one would think. It was the edge of the bubble that made reality. It was still expanding at a significant rate, but whether it be sluggat or human, the eye didn't know how to process the lack of existence that it was comprehending.

The result?

A chaotic swirl of colours and impossible geometry. Truly and utterly breathtaking. The first pioneer sluggats that made it this far had apparently nearly starved due to their desire to sit and watch the unending show of the universe growing.

"It is beautiful..." She murmured, whispering it as fact that couldn't be denied.

"Yeah, I'm very lucky to be here right now..."

The silence was pregnant and long.

The ding surprised Blarah and caused her to ripple. Sliding and stepping off the lift in turn, placed them in front of his quarters, the only ones in use in the diplomatic quarter. As he approached, the doors opened into a plush and well furnished home.

It was not of sluggat design and it was just as strange as he, yet he strolled in as if it was his own home.

"Don't stay outside, come in and make yourself at home!" He called from inside.

Blarah's eyes bulged. Not just welcoming her, a stranger, into his home, but to demand she treat it as her home? He WAS courting her! To provide a shelter for one's partner, so they could begin the ancient dance in privacy?!

She wouldn't be taken by surprise.

She wouldn't be seduced.

She would give a polite rebuttal and excuse herself from his presence.

Whilst this, the most dramatic dilemma she had ever encountered, played out in front of Blarah, she wouldn't have thought about the possibility that at the edge of the system; a sinister ship with a sinister goal could have slivered into the shadow of the planet like an eel; where it remained, coiled and waiting to strike.

#conservationverse #cuddleverse #human #scifi #humans are space orcs #sluggat

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firstelevens · 2 months

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Hey Zainab! taking this moment for a second to just say I see you around and I think you're cool. Anyways, for the SamBucky ask - either: 👔 Zipping or Buttoning His Jacket for/Putting a Tie on Him or 💥 A Surprise Encounter please

Hi, Mexi! That's so kind of you to say! I think you're super cool, too! Also both of these were such great options that it took FOREVER for me to choose--thanks for sending them in!

👔 Zipping or Buttoning His Jacket for/Putting a Tie on Him

Sam’s been an Avenger for six months, and he’s still not used to the glamor of it all. Yeah, there are days when an EMP fries his wings and he finds himself parachuting straight into a swamp, but then there are nights like this, where they get put up in an opulent hotel and invited to a gala as thanks for foiling a kidnapping plot against the Governor of Gibraltar.

The wind on the water reminds Sam of home, so he’s got the sliding door to the balcony open, the smell of sunshine blowing into his suite along with the breeze. He takes little peeks at the sunset while he gets ready, crisply ironing his shirt and adjusting his cufflinks—little silver crawdads, a present from Sarah on his birthday a few years ago—before contending with his tie.

Normally it would be a snap; a lifetime of doing his tie for church every Sunday meant that a half-Windsor knot had been muscle memory for years now. At some point during today’s rescue mission, though, Sam had managed to hurt his right hand enough that it’s a lot slower going than it should be, and trying to make his left hand do what his right hand should is just making his brain hurt.

He’s distracted, restarting the knot for the third time when he hears a noise on his balcony and whips around. His gun is on the other side of the bedroom, locked up with the rest of his gear, but Sam’s always got a knife within reach, and he’s throwing it at the figure in the doorway before they’ve even resolved into anything more than shadow.

When the person easily catches it, it’s with the sound of metal clinking against metal, and Sam feels the tension immediately leave his body.

“Turning your back on an unlocked door?” asks Bucky, sounding entirely too smug. “What are they even teaching you up at Stark’s fancy compound?”

“How to draw annoying cyborgs to your hotel suite, apparently,” says Sam, and very deliberately turns his back to Bucky as he starts in on his tie again.

“Sweetheart, if you wanted me in your bedroom, all you had to do was ask,” says Bucky. Sam doesn’t need to look in the mirror to know that he’s smirking.

“Apparently, I didn’t even have to do that,” he shoots back. He’s not sure if he imagines the way that Bucky’s neck flushes behind him. Sam means to say something else teasing, in part because it usually seems like Bucky could use the laugh, but then he realizes he’s looped the tie the wrong way around again and yanks it loose for a fourth time, mumbling an expletive as he does.

“The hell are you even doing, Wilson; how’d you get this far without learning to tie a tie?”

Sam holds up his bandaged right hand in response, and Bucky tuts disapprovingly. He’s by Sam’s side in three paces, huffing as he turns Sam by the shoulder.

“Some team leader Rogers is,” Bucky mutters, grabbing the ends of Sam’s tie and smoothing them out. “Doesn’t he know that—”

Bucky cuts himself off, finally seeming to realize that he’s got his hands on Sam, in closer proximity than the two of them have ever been. Sam watches as Bucky’s eyes come up to meet his, then drop back down to his grip on Sam’s tie.

A grimace flickers across his face, and he starts to pull his hands away, but Sam settles his own hands on top of Bucky’s.

“What?” he asks, with a grin that he hopes is encouraging. “You’re gonna let me go out there looking all scruffy? Leave me hanging so Steve can steal the spotlight?”

The tightness in Bucky’s jaw eases just a bit. He breathes in once, twice, thrice before looking up at Sam again. There’s a question in his eyes that Sam hopes is answered when he nods.

Half a beat later, Bucky is smoothing out the ends of the tie again and working on a knot, focused enough on his task that Sam can take the opportunity to study him: the dark fringe of his eyelashes, the slight curl of his hair in the sea air. There’s an almost-healed cut by his lip that Sam wants to ask about, and dark circles like bruises that he knows not to bring up.

He’s so distracted cataloguing the changes on Bucky’s face that he doesn’t realize that the tie has already been tied, not until Bucky smoothes it out one last time.

“There,” he says, bringing his hands back down and stepping away from Sam. “Now you’re not such a disgrace to whoever taught you to tie one of those.”

Sam snorts, shaking his head. “I’m sure my daddy would be thrilled to know you protected his legacy.”

He gets a small smile for that in return, just the barest lift at the corner of Bucky’s mouth, but much more real than the teasing smirk from before. It makes warmth thrum through Sam’s veins.

“Thanks for the help, Barnes.”

“Anytime,” says Bucky, and makes for the balcony again.

Sam knows better than to try to keep him where he is, and this is more of a goodbye than he usually gets, so he’s surprised to hear Bucky say his name from the doorway as he turns to put on his dinner jacket.

“Hey, Wilson?”

“Yeah?”

“Tie or no tie, nobody else has got a shot at that spotlight with you around.”

Sam feels his jaw drop, but Bucky’s gone before he can even turn around, the balcony door clicking shut behind him.

#sambucky #thatmexisaurusrex #zainab does ask meme things #idk what this is y'all it just happened #'ficlet' is a state of mind okay #my fic

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the-fiction-witch · 7 months

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The Sea Witch P1

Media The Maze Runner AU X Mermaids

Character Newt (Merman)

Couple Newt X Reader

Rating Dark + flirty

Concept Merman X Sea Witch

I laid on my usual rock leisurely and observed the fish float around the reef, the sweet anemones dance in the currents, and the sunlight breaking through the surface miles above me. I suppose I'd been avoiding things, but surely, everyone needs an escape. Every so often, to pass the time I would blow bubbles. I Pursued my lips and made large air bubbles that would ripple and jiggle up from my rock, disappearing from my view not long after. I could hear the Syren song even from here, but that only made me want to avoid it even more.

"Newt?" A voice called across the reef,

I perked up sitting up a little seeing a familiar figure across the way, Light blue tail and dark brown hair he swam over and sat himself on my rock

"Hi Tommy," I gave him a brief forced smile

"What are you doing, all the way out here?"

"Sittin'," I shrug

"You're Father will be looking for you,"

"When isn't he," I sighed moving to lie on my back

"Well he likes to know where you are"

"Why does your family never worry about where you are?"

"because they know I'm either in my room or at Teresa’s"

"Yeah no one sends an army out for you if you don't come home in time"

"Well you best get home then" he says swimming off to make his way to Pearls, I know he's right I just didn't particularly like hearing it, so I sighed fixed my hair and swam home sneaking my way into the back of the castle. Immediately I noticed how busy everyone was everyone seemed to be rushing around, seeming panicked and concerned I imagine that's because of me it usually is but people are normally this concerned as this is such a common thing so normally people don't get so worried, and there's usual a guard waiting even at the back entrance to escort me to my father, so I headed to the throne room expecting to be yelled at halfway across the ocean.

But I stopped short "Father! What's happened?" I asked as I came to his side, he sat on the throne barely able to breathe or move his tail, his skin falling off his bones, and he barely had the strength to grip my hand back.

"There was a break-in," the advisor told me

"A break-in! What are you talking about?"

"She broke into the castle"

"Who?"

"The witch of the dark sea"

"Y/n… that evil witch! What did that hellish thing want?"

"The same as all her visits, for the dark sea to be given independence and for her to be officially recognised as its queen"

"That's ridiculous!"

"That's precisely what you're father said, however this time she was... less detoured"

"That's just the way she is, she's an evil thing, pure evil. What horrible witchcraft has she cursed upon my father?"

"She stole the Aurze Crystal"

"She what!"

"She stole the crystal, right from his crown."

"She's taken it?"

"Yes Sir"

"We have to retrieve it. without the crystal, He'll die"

"We have guards trying to figure out her location-"

"We know her location she's in the dark sea, she would have slinked back there the moment she took the crystal"

"Yes sir but.."

"But? The king is dying there is no time for but"

"But. few of the guards are willing to go into the dark sea"

"So? What's the plan then if they won't go what do we do?"

"We will plant a battalion of our best and bravest outside the edge of the dark sea, put the pressure on, she'll return the crystal if she wants her sea to remain." he explained "Go up to your room, we'll have the nurses care for the king we'll make sure to keep you updated on anything," he says

I sighed but did as he told me swimming up to my tower, I laid on my bed and immediately pouted.

They really think she'll give the crystal back if they just sit outside and wait.

None of them will even go in there.

We can't wait for her... she'll wait for my father to die and come in with her army of swamp madness to take control.

We couldn't wait.

I can't wait.

My father will be dead within a month without the crystal, and that's to say nothing of unrest in the kingdom without the crystal and its magic, A year without the crystal the kingdom will fall back to the sand and rocks from that which it was formed. We don't have time to be patient. The Army will take days to get across the ocean to the dark sea.

I could swim there in a day, I'm small, I'm fast, I'm sneaky, and she won't be expecting us to send someone alone. I could sneak there steal back the crystal and get back in time. I don't think I have much of a choice.

I grabbed some things I might need in a bag and threw it over my shoulder, I built a little pillow body in my bed and snuck my way out the window and the castle.

I made sure I wasn't spotted by anyone even if that meant I did have to be a little more sneaky than I usually would but it wasn't long until I reached the border, the normal blue with light breaking through beyond the border it was dark, little light was able to get through, the sweet fresh sand replaced with harsh marsh and moss the whole place looked unattractive and concerning. But I had to do this, I made my way into the dark sea doing my best not to touch anything as I headed deeper and deeper, barely any light made its way here, the gross moss and mud below me, tall reeds and seaweed often knotting around themselves, I could have sworn I saw yellow eyes watching me from the darkness but I just swam on. Until At last I found the dark oily stone castle of the dark sea, the home of the sea witch. I made sure to sneak my way close watching explosions of colour from the windows within and listening to the gentle sound of her song. She sounded quiet at a distance so I snuck myself inside making sure to listen and check everywhere for dangers and the crystal.

"AHHHH!" I screamed in shock as something grabbed my tail these creeping Thorn-covered weeds I had seen all about the castle it had grabbed and wrapped around the end of my tail leaving me unable to swim I desperately tried to unknot it from around me but that only seemed to catch the thorns more causing more pain.

Her sly evil chuckle echoed across the castle

"No, no no," I muttered desperately trying to get out of these thorns

"Well, well. Hello little prince" her voice spoke up

"Y/n" I glared as I looked at her as she lingered above me her long dark hair swirling, her body in a skintight almost seamless black dress with no tail as she had become one with the moss and dark water of the dark sea leaving her lower half fluid

"Well this is a surprise, you could have called I'd have cleaned the place up” She smirked

“You know why I’m here”

“I do but it’s still lovely for you to pop by” she smiled “You’re here for this” she smiled clicking her fingers and there hovered above her hand was the crystal, the moment I saw it I tried to grab for it but she was smart clicking her fingers again and it disappeared “Ah ah ah. Not so fast you can’t just take it and go, that would make you a very rude guest Newt”

“Give me the crystal! You know what will happen if you don’t return it”

“I do.”

“The army will be here in days-”

“I know, but I think I’ve found myself an even better hostage to negotiate with” she smirked “Vines, my lovely little pets. Take him to the dungeon!”

“No! Noo! Let me go!” I screamed desperately clawing my nails into the stone floor trying to prevent the veins from dragging me away but they tightened and forced me away with little resistance. It dragged me down to the bottom of the castle into a stone and metal dungeon where the vines finally let go of me leaving me in the dark dungeon and a scratched tail for a good while.

“Enjoying my dungeon?” she smirked as she headed down to see me

“Not particularly”

“Awww I gave you the nice room” she cooed

“I’d be happier if you let me go!”

“That’s not going to happen, I have a prince as a hostage why would I give that up?” she smirked she merely moved her hand and my body was thrown against the wall

“They’ll know I’m missing soon, they’ll come after you”

“I’m counting on it. The marshes have been hungry of late”

“You can’t really think I’ll just stay here, I won’t stop trying to get out!”

“Ohh you’re not going anywhere little prince” She smirked as she snapped her fingers and all of a sudden the stone wall I had been pushed against seemed to wriggle, to writhe almost as if it came alive, it became fluid much like her body I screamed in fear as it came alive and before I could swim away tendrils stretched out from the wall and wrapped around the end of my tail, my waist, my upper arms, my wrists and my neck pulling me tight to the fleshy wall giving me utterly no resistance from her control. “Now, you stay here and get comfortable while I deal with some business” she smiled brushing some of my hair from my eyes

“Evil Witch!”

“Aww thank you” she smiled giving my cheek a kiss before she headed away

“You can’t silence me!” I yelled but she snapped her finger and another tendril came and made its way towards my mouth Immediately I shut my mouth as tight as I could shaking my head trying to get it away from me but it forced its way into my mouth and halfway down my throat enough to make me gag and choke, it throbbed inside my mouth but no matter how much I tried to bite and fight it merely forced my mouth open

“I think I can little prince” she smirked “Have a nice evening, I’ll be seeing you later”

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starsfic · 3 months

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Since its looking more like season 4 will occur in the past/in the pages of JTTW

Mortality Swap Bai He getting sent to the past and dealing with the whiplash of meeting pre breakdown Wukong

Okay, new resolution.

Lady Bone Demon was banned from ever sending her into weird scrolls again. Bai He wasn't even sure why she needed to go into this scroll in the first place, beyond the fact that the spiders had been sucked in, and no, she couldn't get them out from outside. Thankfully, Red knew enough magic to teleport them through...until the scroll interrupted the teleportation ritual.

Where even was she? Or, better yet, where was she?

Bai He looked around, rubbing her elbow where she had landed on it. She looked to be in the jungle somewhere. But there was no sign of the boys anywhere. She took a deep breath.

"GUYS!" A bird flapped up at her call. "HELLO?! RED?! XIAOTIAN?! ARE YOU THERE?!" More birds flew away, but no voices responded to her. Bai He hissed, looking around. Okay. So she was alone. That...

That was fine!

All she had to do was find her way out of the jungle. Maybe there was a path somewhere that would lead to a village! Bai He nodded at the plan and looked around. Now, where to start walking? North was a good option, right? Yeah!

"North is..." She rotated around, glanced at the sky, and hazarded a guess. "This way!" Hopefully. With that, Bai He began to walk.

At least the jungle seemed way nicer than the alligator swamp. The sun was bright and warm, with beautiful plants blossoming around her. The dirt under her feet was nicely even. There were even birds singing and people laughing-

Wait.

Bai He paused, cocking her head. That was people talking! She must've been close to a town! She couldn't help a relieved laugh as she began to laugh. She could hang out there, blending in, until Red found her! She was sure of it!

She grabbed a bush, pushed it out of her way, and froze.

A large table stood in a forest clearing, full of fruits and other food. Six demons sat around the arrangement, eating and drinking goblets of wine between rich laughter. And there, on the table, dressed in sunshine yellow, was Sun Wukong.

"And then I-" His eyes met hers and Bai He felt her blood chill.

No, no, no... He was supposed to be far away! He was supposed to be somewhere else, licking his wounds after the battle of the Samadhi fire! He wasn't.

"Hello there!" A male voice broke through her thoughts. All the demons were turned, staring right at her, including Macaque and Sun Wukong. The person sitting in front of her was a blonde lion, who was starting to stand. "Little girl, are you alright? How did you get here?" His voice was concerned, but Bai He was more scared of the monkey than anything.

"She's probably a spy!" An eagle was standing up now, holding a spear. "How else could she get on this mountain?"

This...mountain...oh no.

"I'm sorry," she squeaked, turning away. "Wrong table!"

Before she could break into a run, a warm hand landed on her shoulder, halting her in place. "Kid, it's okay! Peng's not gonna hurt you." She froze. Sun Wukong was holding her. Sun Wukong was talking to her.

Sun Wukong...was leading her to a chair?

"How did you get here, little girl?" His voice was concerned. "Humans don't rarely come on my mountain, especially ones as young as you." Bai He blinked, unsure of how to respond. Wukong stared back but sighed. "I think she needs a minute, boys." He pulled away and Bai He watched as he pulled out a hair and summoned a bowl. The lion was by his side in a moment, helping him fill the bowl with food, mostly fruit. When it was full, Wukong set it in front of her. "Eat up. When you're done you can answer my questions."

A realization made her stomach twist.

Oh. This is what he was like before.

#Mortality Swap AU #my writing #AU #LMK #LMK AU #Monkie Kid #Monkie Kid AU #LEGO Monkie Kid #LEGO Monkie Kid AU #Bai He #Sun Wukong #Azure Lion #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #prompt fill #prompt fic

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randomwriteronline · 1 month

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He hears him before he sees him.

That is not something that will ever change - in a sense it is quite comforting, that even in a constantly mutating world one thing can remain the same: the fact that he is still heavy enough to make his arrival sound like an approaching thunderstorm, that he has not lost the peculiar gracelessness of his brand of speed, that he likes to run his mouth just as much as his legs.

"You're a lot thinner than the last time I saw you," Pohatu tells him.

Krika regards him with half-lid eyes: "And my brother's leash is just as tight around your neck still, it would seem."

"Stop that," the Toa shuts him down instantly, his genuine amiable tone gone in an instant to be replaced by a cold vitriol. If the Makuta had a tongue, he might have considered biting it. "That joke has never been funny in the first place."

"It is no joke, Toa."

"Then find something else to greet me with, Makuta."

To say Krika had felt something deeper, once, for such a sad being - to say any of them had at some point been moved towards him by something other than an awkward pity, a half-hearted annoyance, a slight cautious curiosity - would be maybe not a full lie, but certainly an exaggeration. None of them was attached to him enough to pry Teridax's hold off of him until it was too late to even try to get through to him, after all; so perhaps this sudden rush of melancholic compassion is akin to a crocodile's tears after it has senselessly devoured its own young.

It remains that, for a reason unknown, the towering insect-like being tilts his head to better observe the warrior before him.

"You're much more orange than I remembered," he indulges him: "And somehow even shorter."

A booming laugh: "It's the armor," Pohatu replies so wonderfully earnest and open and bright as though he had never once been angry in his frighteningly bitter life: "Too compact."

He drops from the air onto the sturdiest branch he could have found with his entire weight, bouncing on it as it perilously bends towards the swamp waters before struggling to pull itself back up. He dangles his feet in a carefree manner, like a Matoran who snuck away from work. A tentative fondness that was there many millennia ago rekindles for a moment only within the Makuta, to ache with nostalgia: for a moment he can almost picture his old laboratory, and the suspended catwalk that led to the shelves of viruses and carefully preserved failed attempts upon which the Toa would sit just like that so he could watch him at work without interfering.

"So," Pohatu beams: "It's been a while."

"It has."

"I met Mutran on the way here. Most of the others too - the ones up in the sky. They've gone blind, by the by."

"I was aware."

"Of the Matoran, too?"

"Yes."

The Toa hums. Evidently he does not appreciate the shadow leeches too much.

"I passed through him with my Kakama Nuva," he continues.

"Mutran?"

"Yes."

"Riveting."

"It was disgusting, mostly. Oh, and I saw Gorast. I had to knock out Photok before she'd jump on him - ah, you don't know him, right? No, he's from the stalagmites. Resisting against you. So yes, I had to knock him out and fly him to safety and then get back down. A bit of a hassle."

"How is my sister faring, in your opinion?"

"As positively furious as ever. Maybe even worse."

"She has indeed been degrading."

"Hm. Maybe it's the bog air. Or the humidity. Either way I can't really blame her."

Of course you can't, the Makuta only thinks, keeping quiet.

You are becoming ever more like her.

"Ah - watch for Takua- Takanuva. He's arrived too."

"The fabled Toa of Light?"

A nod. "He isn't supposed to be here. They sent him, I think."

"Who would be 'they'?"

"Probably the Order of Mata Nui - the Turaga don't have the means to set a single foot here, let alone send someone. You'll recognize him immediately, he's gotten huge."

"Duly noted."

"Anyhow, how have things been down here?"

Krika shrugs: "Gorast almost killed your sister," he relays. "Bitil had your Earth brother subjugated briefly, and your Fire brother - Tahu, isn't he? - nearly burnt down the entire swamp."

"Hm," the Toa only hums, monotone. "Shame."

The way he says the word causes the other being to stiffen his spine: "Do not speak like that."

"Like that how?"

"Do not be coy."

"I don't understand what you mean."

"You should not wish death upon your siblings."

"Because you don't?"

"The Toa Mata are following the path destiny has decided for them," the Makuta snaps at last. "Teridax has tried to twist and bend fate to his own ambitions, and in doing so he has doomed himself, the entire Brotherhood and you with him. To wish him dead is to wish for the Universe to keep on living - it is far from a childish desire born of an ancient grudge that has no reason to exist."

"Watch it."

The words coil quiet, dangerous, around Krika's neck much like a noose of rock.

The fallen stalactites groan like suffering Rahi as they shift.

One must wonder, between him and the last of the Makuta's sisters, if this kind of taste for cruelty is something innate or if his traitorous brother simply has a talent for driving people to it.

The silent threat is not quite empty. Yes, Pohatu will not kill him: he is a Toa (he takes pride in that for it's all that remains outside of Teridax he can still hold onto to tell himself he is worth anything) so he observes the code like his life depends on it, and it is not at all in his nature to consider inflicting pain fun, or satisfying; but he can trap him with little to no air or agonizingly crush his limbs flat between walls of stone, and his slowly marinating anger will find it endlessly gratifying despite any aversion to torture.

But Pohatu is, fundamentally, a weak being.

Oh, he has all the power he needs. His mastery over his element is egregious and his speed unmatched. But at the end of the day he is nothing but a soft toy, a spineless marionette to pull the strings of; one day - because it will happen, one day - someone will snip at a wire, purposefully or not, and that will be all it takes to send him tumbling to the floor.

His sharp limbs carve holes into the wood.

Slowly, Krika elevates himself from the bog and comes to stand upon the branch, light and graceful like a terrifyingly posed skeleton, towering over the little Toa.

His head bends down to look into blue eyes.

Pohatu simply cranes his neck and stares back, tranquil, unafraid, like a child.

"We will not leave Karda Nui," the Makuta sentences. His tone is low, funerary. "Our brother has planned our demise the moment he decided to betray Miserix. We are nothing to him, as are his Kraata, as are you. He has no need for a court beside him to rule the universe. We will outgrow our purpose soon. He will leave us to die like vermins. This shall be our grave."

A stretch of silence.

The gaze replying to his own is calm.

"Sorry," Pohatu says without even the vaguest trace of emotion.

Krika leans down, down, down, closer, until his mask grazes the other being's and his already rotting breath seeps into the seams of Artakha's armor.

"You are not exempt from this fate, little Toa." he breathes. "You are no different in his eyes from me. We are pawns. Tools to be discarded for the sake of a megalomaniac's ego. Teridax will suppress you as soon as your bones begin to creak. He holds no love for you."

"Do you?"

No answer.

"Do you love me?" Pohatu repeats. His tone holds the certainty of those who are lied to so profoundly that the truth becomes laughable to their eyes. "Do you?"

The Makuta remains silent.

"No," the Toa answers for him, "No, you don't."

There would have been a time where Krika would have scared him with a simple glare. It was the time where Pohatu was only a pitiful being who'd known nothing but fighting and fighting and more fighting, who was too curious to leave beakers untouched and kept almost dropping them.

"None of you do."

"We were fond of you," comes out of the white mask suddenly, a raucous strained sound, like something he didn't know himself.

"Yes," Pohatu replies: "Like my siblings are fond of me now. So nice, and kind, and gentle, because they don't remember they used to be the scum of the world. They've been getting memories, you know?" he pipes up - he smiles, tilts his head, leans it so close that Krika pulls back, looking almost excited. "They've been remembering things."

"Pohatu," the Makuta struggles to speak.

"They don't remember me, of course," he continues, trampling over the words the other tries to wheeze out. His fingers begin to sink into the wood on which he sits. "They have no reason to, of course. I wasn't them. I wasn't worthy of being with them. I wasn't wise or strong or stubborn enough. I wasn't memorable. Despite being there. Despite being there from the beginning just like all of them. Did you know, while we were on Voya Nui - you do know about Voya Nui, right? Ah, doesn't matter - we had to blow up a rock. A rock! A rock. And do you know? Do you know what my brothers did?"

"Your memories are poisoned."

"Tahu, and Kopaka - because they are the leaders, aren't they? They are the ones who take all the decisions and who everybody follows because they are louder than everybody else, aren't they?"

"Your own bitterness has corroded them."

"They started burning and freezing the rock. Burning. And freezing. The rock. Burning and freezing! Because that's what they do!"

"You can't rely on them."

"Because that's what they always do, that's all they can do! And I was standing there, you know, I was right there. Right there, right there next to them! A step away! Maybe two! I had to walk up to them! And blow up the rock for them! And I had to tell them, you know? Remember me? I am Pohatu! I do rock! For them to realize, oh! Yes! There is a Toa of Stone with us! How did we forget! Must have been because he wasn't in our immediate field of vision!"

"You are spiraling into your-"

"SHUT UP!"

The branch produces a ghastly crack as his fingers pierce it.

Pohato heaves, tries to keep talking, then hushes when his throat catches on a knot and the story he was telling stops sounding funny. He exhales out loud, hard, suddenly out of breath. His head feels like it's spinning and the swamp's odor does not help.

Krika observes him silently.

Hasn't this happened before? Something like this?

He'd sobbed too loud and choked on his own sadness, and the room had gone quiet and dozens of eyes had stared at him in a mixture of fear and concern.

When was it?

A hundred millennia ago?

He did not remember being comforted.

"Everybody is fond of me," he manages to wheeze: "Everybody is fond of me, and nobody remembers me."

His arms are shaking.

"My brothers sleep easy because they don't remember abandoning me and the Av-Matoran. They're fond of me because they don't remember hating me. But I know who they are. I know."

"You do not."

Blue eyes pierce through the Makuta: "And you do?" he asks, mockingly.

Krika stands his ground: "I have given your sister the chance to leave this dreadful place behind before her death was sealed."

"How nice."

"She has refused, for the sake of her brothers."

"Give her a minute."

"You have deluded yourself across these thousands of years."

"I am perfectly lucid."

"As lucid as Teridax wants you to be."

"Teridax cares about me," Pohatu says.

It is not a snarl. There is no anger in his voice. He is calm, reassured. Unshakeably certain.

He stares at the Makuta darkly.

"He's cared about me since the beginning. He has never left me to rot in my thoughts like the rest of you. He has never abandoned me." he murmurs.

His booming voice is so quiet, barely above a whisper, and as horribly bitter as Lerahk poison.

"I don't need your forgetful fondness," he speaks softly. Almost tiredly. Maybe he's done it - he's burnt himself thin at last. "Nor my siblings' two-faced kindness."

"Then you will be alone, little Toa. More than you already are."

"Don't push your own grievances onto me."

The branch sways violently.

Caught by surprise, Krika clutches the bark tight between his claws. It takes him a moment to realize he is now the only being still on it as it lashes out wildly: a flash of orange catches his attention at the edge of his vision and he whips his head around.

Pohatu treats him to an empty look, curled up in mid-air, ready to disappear.

Cold bitterness burns in his eyes.

"He is ripping you from your destiny, little Toa!" the Makuta shouts: "He is leading you to slaughter!"

"My destiny is to serve the Great Spirit; his destiny is to become it," Pohatu replies sharply above the sound of his armor's propellers, letting him know his warning has fallen on deaf ears. "If you can stomach to mention my name, tell your siblings I said hello."

His mask glows for a single instant - then he's gone.

Krika only stares at the point in space that the Toa occupied barely a fraction of a second ago, catching for a moment, impossibly slowed in time, his afterimage; for what is merely an instant it looks small and brown and tan, orange eyes gleaming with a guilt he can't let go off and a too focused vitriol that makes his heartlight stutter sickly, hiding behind a shelf in a clumsy attempt at pretending he wasn't poking curiously at the vats brimming with viruses to watch them swirl towards his finger.

#bionicle #krika #pohatu #random writing #orpiment au #pohatu is slowly losing his mind #hes experiencing mood swings potent enough to knock a man flat to the ground #is it the millenia of manipulation taking their toll? being explicitly told the most important person in his life thinks hes disposable?#the struggle between the bastardized version of his sibs he fuels his anger with vs the reality of them being loving if imperfect people?#a defense mechanism against the doubts creeping in his mind after being exposed to ppl who are not teridax and who also care abt him?#who knows! but he is having the worst time of his life #as am i (<- exaggerating) (stuck in a funk)#anyways if yall could FUCKIN tell me what you think of these i would deeply appreciate it

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batmansymbol · 3 months

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I hope this isn't a weird or too random question (and if it is, feel free to ignore ofc!) but I was wondering if you had any advice for someone thinking of writing full-time? The obvious question is, of course, can one make a living from it even if they're not like Stephen King or GRR Martin or something? Do you have any tips from your experience that you would have found helpful when first starting out? <3

Hi, sweet anon! Not weird at all. I'm happy to chime in with some (long) thoughts.

Firstly, yes! Authors can make a full-time living from writing even if they're not GRRM &c. I know a number of full-timers, and some of them aren't even NYT bestsellers.

As a caveat, I know very little about the indie/self-publishing space, so the following is based on my experience in traditional publishing.

I spent around 2-3 years writing books full-time. I no longer do that, and don't plan to return to it unless I have a big commercial breakout. It was just a never-ending parade of financial stress. It's hard even to give "tips" because so much is out of your control -- but if you're considering trying to write full time, you should definitely know what you're signing up for.

Here's an average situation for a non-bestseller trying to full-time it:

Let's say you've published two books, and your third is on the way (awesome!). For your first two novels, you got advances of $40,000, but maybe they've only sold 15k copies apiece -- not enough to "earn out" your advance and start making new money. So, you're not making a cent off your older books. Probably won't for years.

Let's say your book 3 is supposed to publish in June 2025, and it sold for more than your last books: $75,000. Pretty good! Advances are usually divided into thirds these days: 1/3 on contract signing, 1/3 on delivery of the fully edited manuscript (D&A), and 1/3 on publication. So that makes a $50,000 salary this year, yes?

Kind of. Right off the bat, your agent gets 15%, so that would make a $42,500 salary. A little tighter, but still seems doable. Also, you need to make estimated tax payments to the IRS. So, let's ballpark your taxes at $7,000, state and federal, which you'll pay in installments throughout the year.

Contract negotiations take a few months as usual, and let's say in April, you get the first payment: your first $21,250. Nice.

Unfortunately, your editor's swamped, and 2 months go by before they send you edits. When you get the letter in June, you're like -- shit, this is a more extensive revision than I thought. You start rehauling the novel, but after your month-long deadline passes, it's still not right. You take another six weeks before you're happy. It's now September.

Suddenly money is very tight. You got $21,250 in April, but since then you've paid $5,250 in estimated taxes, and every month you pay $2,250 in rent, health insurance, and food. You were supposed to have your second payment already, because the contract's estimated D&A date said September. But you still need to do line edits. You now have $2,500 in the bank. You are very aware that this will last a little over a month.

Your editor gets back after a few weeks, having loved your revision, and has sent you line edits. Thank God she didn't want a second round of bigger edits. But it's now October. You rush through the line edits, turn them in after a single jam-packed week. You have $250 in the bank. Your D&A payment is now due.

A week goes by. Where is the payment? You email your agent. She badgers the publisher. They say the payment will be sent through in a pay run next week, so after agency processing, it'll be with you in early November.

You have $75 in the bank. You start putting everything on your credit cards. Then your utility company makes a direct withdrawal from your checking account. You wake up to an overdraft notice and zero dollars in your account. Holy shit, you think, why did I choose this career. November hits. You are late on rent. Maybe you should start drawing from your retirement account, which you put $5,000 into, one time, three years ago?

When your payment arrives, you're not happy so much as ready to cry with relief. You start paying off your cards and sending late, embarrassed Venmos to your friends. You can finally stop declining invites to hang out because you have no money.

And by then it's November, and you're realizing that you really need to be thinking about your next book. If you were working smart, you got a jump on it earlier in the year, when your editor was late with your edit letter. Let's say you wrote an entire first draft back then, between January and June. (Which, to be clear, IS fast for a novel, do not believe the ridiculous standards of writing speed you see online.) If you now take six months to mold that first draft into actual art, then send it to your agent next May, and she wants changes, and you submit in July, and it sells after an average couple months on submission, you won't get your next contract payment until January, 2026.

ARE YOU ANXIOUS YET?

The above scenario is ordinary. An editor having a delay on an edit letter for a month or two, or an author getting stuck and running over deadline for a month -- that stuff is barely worth commenting on.

And there are all sorts of other bumps in the road. Let's say the publisher has turnover in the contracts department. Immediately, that'll be a delay on your signing payment. I've waited 6 months for a contract payment before. I've waited months for a simple email reply from an editor because the company was going through layoffs.

Add more people into the process, and it gets slower. Are you working on IP, let's say a novelization of a TV property? That team might take months to get back to you even on your proposed outline. Working with a freelancer or cowriter? Add weeks or months to every step. In publishing, you spend half your life waiting. You know what doesn't wait? Rent, taxes, and health insurance.

Anon, this is the shoestring, desperate kind of full-time author existence. If you're doing a little better -- still midlist, but better -- you might have earned out one or more of your backlist titles. That means you'll get additional royalties twice a year, usually April and October. That will help.

Or maybe you're a super-fast writer who's always, always juggling multiple contracts and shooting drafts in and out of your door. That's a decent way to make a healthy living as a full-time author, but you'll need to complete multiple books a year, for sure.

This is why I have a survival job half the week that pays my rent. The stress is still there, but it's less frequent and less intense. Honestly, given my sales figures, which are (checks notes) bad, I'm lucky to get to keep doing this after five novels. Because the biggest looming threat is that if you don't break out, editors will start shutting the door immediately because of your lack of established audience.

The only really reliable way to pay your bills is to break out. Then if your editor leaves your publishing house, and you get reassigned, and that pads 3 months onto the editing process, or whatever, it doesn't matter. You'll have actual, substantial royalty payments twice a year. Your advances will always be over six figures. You can live a normal life where you're not staring into the murky distance, wondering when some payment is going to soar out of the night and into your terrible bank account.

Or ... you can just get a day job. And you will get paid biweekly, reliably, on SPECIFIC DATES!!!, forever. When I tell you this shit was life-changing for me. Good God.

Obviously the biggest problem in this whole post is the bit where I wrote "every month you pay $2,250 in rent, insurance, and food," and worried if I was, in fact, lowballing that amount. What a broken world!

Anyway. Best of luck with the writing, anon -- no matter what your experiences in or around the industry, I hope the work itself continues to feed your soul.

#reply #publishing #advice

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triplesilverstar · 3 months

Text

A Birthday with a show, and you're dinner

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Knives X F!Reader

CW: Dom/Sub undertones, strip show, sex toys, vibrator, P in V Sex

Word count: Roughly 2.7K

A/N: Chapter fourteen of the series, this time it’s Knives birthday and you’ve been found on the menu.

If working at Flux had taught you one thing, underworld influence or not, the ultra rich like to celebrate like it’s the last party they’ll ever have. You’ve seen enough of the rich waltzing into Flux when celebrating their birthdays like it is their last one, throwing more money around then you’d seen in your life and you had never gone without anything in the time you’d been alive.

While he isn’t at the club tonight you know it’s Nai’s birthday, having heard some of the plans discussed when coming down from your highs after him having fucked your brains out. A rather larger fancy party from what you had overheard, and were teased over from Legato. The blue haired bastard had been more than happy to point out how you weren’t important enough to have been invited. “Just a wet hole my master is currently interested in using.”

His words had and still burn. The fact his birthday fell on a Saturday meant even if you had been invited by the stern man, you wouldn’t have been able to attend. Calla required you those nights no matter what other plans came up, your nights at Flux far too important for such dalliances. At least according to Calla and seeing as she was the employer that paid well over half your yearly income, you weren’t going to argue with her.

Closer to ten, your delivery for the night made but still swamped behind the bar and late for your break you groan internally. Three of the waitresses gossiping in front of you at the bar while you mix and pour drinks, gossiping about Nai. “Looks like Mr. Millions isn’t here tonight, that seems strange.” The waitress Michelle that normally covered Nai’s table frowned. No doubt missing the tips that often came with making sure the nosey girl disappeared quickly after delivering their drinks.

“You’re right. The other regulars are here though, I wonder what’s going on?” Anya, another of the waitresses whispers, one you know has tried hitting on the blond businessman only to fail at every attempt. Maybe if she didn’t gossip so much about everyone she might have stood a chance. “I checked his social media earlier. He didn’t post anything but it’s his birthday, but there’s like a hundred posts wishing him a happy birthday.” Popping one of the cocktail cherries her mouth you snap at Vickie. “Don’t eat the garnishes!” You have enough work to do without throwing out some of the cherries, and opening a new bottle. “Wow. Don’t need to bite my head off!” Vickie grabs her now drink filled tray, rolling her eyes at you as she saunters off but not without throwing a parting shot at you. “You really need to get laid.”

Taking a deep breath you count to ten in your head and keep mixing drinks, Franie sliding up beside you his voice low. “You alright?” “Yea.” Whispered back as you fill Anya’s tray and send her on her way. “Just tired of Vickie eating the cherries and olives. She doesn’t wash her hands as often as we do, or use spoons or tongs to grab them.” Back to finishing the drinks you finally get your break, heading for the back room and grabbing your phone to check it. Two text messages, both from Nai. 2115: I would have preferred your company to the fawning those invited have provided2155: Are you able to see me tomorrow evening?Without any hesitation you type out a response, knowing you have nothing planned and asking him if he wants to come to your place or go to his. You don’t expect the answer to come before the end of your break but you’re pleasantly surprised. 2211: Mine. 7 PM. Sharp.

You grin, aware of the fact you’re going to spend most of tomorrow on your back or stomach one way or another while Knives uses you like he owns you. He’s yet to disappoint you in bed and you don’t expect him to tomorrow either. Back at the bar you grumble internally, drinks have slowed down while on break and Anya is on her phone giggling about something. That something turns out to be a tweet with an image of Knives attached, while you try to look at it discreetly and keep your face bland internally you’re screaming.

It’s Knives looking at his phone, one side of his lips lifted in a grin and based on the time stamp you see of the image, it would have been after you sent your reply and before he texted you back. Part of you hoping that grin was because of you, but you’re smart enough to temper your heart. Knives could tell you your agreement is done tomorrow if he wants, and you’d just have to walk away.

The next day, dressed in a cute sundress with heels to put you just under Knives height, a recommended bottle of red wine in a bag for him you make your way to his apartment. Meeting the doorman and advising him you’re there to see Mr. Saverem and give your own name, knowing his building is far more exclusive than your own.

Once inside you take the elevator, knocking on his door at 6:55 a little early but you know it’s within Knives margin of error and you aren’t late. Being late even by a minute is not acceptable to the stern man.

Opening the door you smile up at him. “Good evening Nai.” Voice whisper soft as you quickly run your eyes over him, dressed in a pair of cream slacks and a dark blue dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up revealing his built forearms. “Happy Birthday” his sharp eyes watching you as he steps inside, holding the door open for you to slip inside.

The door closing with a click and his hand is on your throat, forcing your chin up so he can press his lips against yours, tongue running along your lower lips you open your mouth to let him have what he wants. Smashing his mouth against yours as he takes his fill of your moans and whimpers while he kisses you fiercely enough to steal your breath. Your lungs are burning when he pulls away, just enough that your lips are a hair’s breadth apart. “Good evening Pet.” Chest heaving and your breathless “I have something for you” barely lifting the bag which Knives looks at, raising an eyebrow at you for. “Just a little something to say. I appreciate our time together.” That seems to appease him, stepping away from you and running his fingers up the side of your neck before taking the handle of the bag from you.

Opening the bag and removing the bottle he looks at the label before back to you. “I know it’s not your usual brand, but I picked something with a similar flavor profile.” A brief nod as he heads for the kitchen, you stop to undo your heels.

“Leave them.” Licking his lips while taking in your figure “I’ve had a change of heart for what the events of this evening will be.” Standing back up again, watching as he effortlessly opens the bottle and pouring himself a glass. Motioning for you to follow him into the living room, placing the bottle and glass on the side table before approaching you.

Tilting your jaw upwards once more far more gentle than when you first stepped into his apartment, gliding his lips across yours. “Tonight. I want you to follow my directions, can you do that Pet? The usual rules apply.”

“Am I allowed to talk? Ask for clarification?” Whispering back before you start, wanting to know your limits for tonight before agreeing.

“You may.” Turning his head and running his nose along the shell of your ear before blowing into it, and nipping the skin while waiting for your answer.

“Yes.” Nodding at you give him your answer, his hands on your hips as he moves you where he wants you. With a whisper to remain there while he moves the light switches, dimming everything around you and an overhead pot light coming on to illuminate you.

Taking his seat on the couch and taking a sip of the wine you brought him, feeling nervous since Knives is far more into wine then you are. A hum of satisfaction and you watch him look at you like he’s a predator eyeing his prey, pressing a button and the low tones of a recording of his favorite orchestra starts to play.

“You’re” his voice having dropped an octave as he addresses you “going to put on a show for me Pet. Now” one more licking his lips, eyes narrowing as he leaning back with his glass of wine taking a sip. “Remove your dress. Slowly.” Licking your lips you turn slow, making a show of lifting your arms over your head as you do, bending one over and pushing your hair to the side be dragging your fingers through the loose locks.

A low growl reaching your ears, running those same fingers down your neck sensually before undoing the fastener with a quick snap, turning your head at an angle and slowly pulling the zipper down as slowly as you can while watching him. Even if you’re the one doing the work, the way his sharp eyes follow your movement makes your core throb. Once your hand is as far down as you can push it from above you slide the other hand down your neck, turning your body so he can watch as you drag your palm against your covered breast giving it a squeeze just hard enough to make you gasp before moving along. Returning to unzipping your dress slowly, letting a low whine pass your lips, the fire in your lower belly starting to build, Knives taking another sip from his wine glass watching you through the clear bowl.

Once you know the zipper is low enough you turn to face him, giving the fabric a light pull and letting it slide down your body to pool around your feet. Left in your undergarments and thigh high stockings held up by your garter belt. Sliding one hand along the skin of your stomach upwards towards your breasts waiting for his next command.

“Undo the straps keeping your stockings up.” Running your hands back down your stomach, letting one of them trail over your covered pussy. Moaning and pressing the fabric against yourself before moving on to the straps. “Naughty thing you are” a soft growl echoing around the room, even in the dim lighting you can’t miss the bulge in his pants as he leans back against the couch. “Of course I am. Otherwise how are you going to teach me to be a good girl?” Teasing as you finish undoing the strap, staying bent over and pushing your breasts together. “Plus, you did say to give you a show~”

Laughing darkly as he licks his lips once more before taking another drink “I did. Now let me see those breasts of yours.” Standing up you arch your back using both hands to undo the clasp so your chest is sticking out into the air, once done moving one hand to the center of the fabric to keep it in place. The other hand moving to slowly lower the straps down your shoulder, letting it fall away all at once. Cupping them in your hands and pushing them together, playing with your nipples as he watched you, his teal eyes swimming with desire. “Now you’re underwear.” Bending forward you slowly remove the fabric from your hips letting them fall to the floor as well before rubbing your thighs together, the lips of your pussy coated in your juices. “Now” another quick swallow of wine “redo the straps of your garter belt.” Raising your eyebrow at him, but you do as he’s said. Standing straight once more as you finish, Knives taking his attention off you to refill his wine glass before approaching you the glass left on the counter.

Dragging his knuckle from your hip bone up to the center of your chest and then to your chin, moving closer to you and you remain still as his mouth presses against your ear. “I was going to ram my thick cock into that pretty pussy of yours. But after that little display, you need to be teased yourself. Stay right here and don’t touch yourself.”

Watching him walk to his bedroom, returning in the span of a few minutes with a box tucked under his arm. Seeing you standing there he nods once. “Sit on the floor and spread those legs, Pet.” Once more you do as he says, Sitting down and spreading your legs so if he stays standing he’ll be able to see everything he wants too. “What a nice, slick, little pussy waiting for me. If only you hadn’t been greedy I would have filled you up already. I’m going to fill you with something else, and” lowering down to one knee over you and running his fingers between your folds making you moan, core clenching around nothing as he pulls them away and licks at his fingers. “You’re not allowed to cum” hissing into your skin as he powers up the vibrating dildo and pushes it into your pussy, gasping at being filled even if the toy is nowhere as large as Knives.

Knives stood, moving back to the couch and showing you a remote as he sat down and picked up his wine glass. “Now remember. No cuming my Pet. Now play with yourself and make sure I can see those pretty lips.” Feeling a blush across your cheeks you lean back on your arm, using your free hand to play with your clit. Moaning as you finger yourself, panting and watching Knives.

Moaning as you keep going, watching his eyes intently feeling your heart rate rising, gasping when the toy inside you suddenly comes to life making you throw your head back. Biting your lip and thinking of some of the ugly men that had hit on you last night to try and hold your orgasm off. “Look at me Pet” growling once more as you look at him, the toys intensity being upped again. Taking a sip of his wine and you feel the sweat starting to form on your forehead in your hairline, fingers still working your clit. The vibrations of the toy stimulating the nerves just behind your clit as well, making you pant loudly, mouth parted wide open. The fire in your belly growing to the point when you feel tears forming in the corner of your eyes knowing you have to hold off your orgasm.

The toy is turned up once more and you almost scream at how intense it is, core clenching hard around it, you’re so close to cumming and it is making your sweat like Knives has been pounding into your core for hours instead of a few minutes the toy hitting all the right places inside of you and making the nerves pulse. “Nai!” Screaming as you stare into his eyes, blinking as the sweat drips down into your eyes, and the town suddenly turning off.

Knives drinks the rest of the wine down, standing and moving towards you. “Undo my pants Pet. I’m tired of waiting to enjoy my preferred gift.” Sitting up your hands are scrambling for his belt and pants quickly undoing them, and feeling him lower his body down, his hand pulling the toy from you before lining his cock up with your slit. “I’m going to enjoy this birthday present Pet.”

His pants are just low enough to let his cock hang out, and he’s pushing into you, making you almost cream around him right away. Adjusting your hips and pushing the rest of your body to the floor, Knives sets a brutal place, slamming more and more into your core. You scream his name as you cum, clenching around him hard as your walls try to milk him with their spasms. A hand coming to wipe the sweat from your forehead as your heart pounds in your chest, watching Knives looking down at your body before chuckling darkly. Head lowering and biting harshly around your nipple making your spasm around him even harder, neck arching backwards from the duel pleasure and pain. “Oh my sweet Pet. I didn’t tell you, you could cum yet.”

Eyes popping open as you look at him with a hint of fear and licking your lips, “you’re not leaving my bed until the morning after that little show of disobedience.” Well. You’re fucked, in every sense of the word.

Back to masterlist

#millions knives smut #millions knives x reader #millions knives x reader smut #modern au #trigun #trigun stampede #tristamp #trigun smut #twink writes #knives smut #millions knives #knives x reader

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beefromanoff · 9 months

Text

Going Under Ch. 11

summary: the morning after Tony's party - HEAVY on the fluff here

characters: Bucky Barnes x OC

soundtrack: so hot you're hurting my feelings - caroline polachek

warnings: fluff, pop star fantasy x love story, set in an AU where the Avengers reunite after Civil War, pre-infinity war, slight angst, hurt/comfort, lonely reader/OC.

author’s note: sorry it's been so long since the last update, July was swamped with work and life and i've been swirling with ideas but no time to write them. hopefully updating several times this week!

chapter list/links - xo

____________________________________________________

Ouch.

Gianna’s eyes squeezed tight before they even opened. The thin sliver of light pouring into the hotel room through the gap in the blackout curtains had fallen right across her face. Wincing, she rolled away and tugged the covers over her eyes.

The soft rustling of denim against velvet let her know that someone was in the room, perched in the luxe armchair by the window. Ever the morning person, that Bucky Barnes.

Shit. Bucky.

Gianna froze, tangled in the comforter, as the events of last night came flooding back to her through a champagne haze. Popping champagne on the balcony, drinking games, karaoke on the table, an all-too-seductive bend and snap move on Bucky, and then…shit.

She buried her face deeper in the covers as if the soft material could take the burn out of her cheeks. The memories kept playing as though on a loop. Sitting on Bucky’s lap, feeling his arms around her, holding his cheek, kissing him. Finally kissing him. Somewhere in her attempt to repress reality, Gianna let out an audible groan.

“Good morning, sunshine.”

Slowly, Gianna lifted her head to peek in the direction of Bucky’s low morning voice. He was right where she expected, leaning back in the chair, an open cup of black coffee in his hand. He seemed to feel the opposite of how she did. She felt slow, sluggish, groggy - he looked more lively than she’d ever seen him. She felt shameful and sheepish - he looked merely amused.

Squinting at him through one eye, Gianna groaned again.

“Coffee’s on the way. I ordered it when I heard you start to wake up. Should be here any minute. Same with your other saving grace, Tony’s sending one of his nurses to give you an IV pack that’ll have you feeling brand new.”

“My hero.” Her voice sounded gravelly at best as she reached up to rub the sleep from her eyes. As the back of her hands burrowed against her eyelids, Gianna felt the surprising absence of mascara and glitter. Pausing, she looked at her hands to find them devoid of smudged, day-old makeup.

She glanced at Bucky who hadn’t taken his eyes off of her since she woke up. Truthfully, he hadn’t taken his eyes off of her all night, but she didn’t know that.

“You know Kate would kick both our asses if she knew you slept in your makeup.”

Gianna’s heart skipped a beat.

The thought of her gruff, super soldier, ex-assassin, Avenger bodyguard gently removing her makeup before she slept filled her with warmth. She cracked a smile as she envisioned Bucky gently tugging a makeup wipe out of the package with his metal hand.

“Thank goodness, I thought you were broken,” Bucky teased. “This is the longest I’ve seen you go without smiling since I’ve known you.”

Gianna rolled her eyes. “I’ve only been up for ten minutes.”

“Exactly.”

They locked eyes across the room. Gianna’s smile faded as she searched his blue eyes for any sign of his reaction to the night before, silently pleading with him to be over the moon with her. A knock on the door interrupted the moment.

Bucky jumped up and strode over to the door as Gianna hung her head. Stupid. Why am I so stupid. She shook her head, trying not to think of the inevitable awkwardness if he didn’t feel the same way about their (her) drunken kiss. How would they do the rest of the tour with that kind of discomfort? What if he left the assignment and sent someone else to replace him?

“Drink up.” She was jolted back to reality by the coffee being offered out to her, which she gladly accepted. The sweet, warm latte was exactly what she needed. Reclining back in bed, Gianna decided she’d give herself the morning to wallow and avoid consequences, and then talk to Bucky later.

A second knock on the door alerted them to the nurse’s arrival. Bucky let her in and she trailed him into the bedroom.

“Good morning, Ms. Cruz.” She was a middle aged woman with a stern face, but kind eyes. Her hair was slicked back into a bun and she donned the futuristic Stark Industries scrubs that everyone in his biotech lab wore.

Gianna smiled. “Good morning, thanks for doing this.”

“Not a problem. When we hear that Mr. Stark is having company, we prep at least a dozen of these.” She gestured to the bag holding golden fluid.

The nurse continued to set up the IV equipment next to her bed as Gianna sipped her coffee. There was a comfortable silence for a few minutes until Bucky spoke.

“Your call time isn’t until soundcheck at 3, you’ve got time to go back to sleep if you’d like.”

Glancing over the clock, Gianna saw the glowing numbers tell her it was just after 9:00am. She nodded and settled into the bed, extending her right arm out for the nurse whenever she was ready.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

He smiled but didn’t speak. Silently, he walked over to the bed. He tugged the comforter higher over her body and took the coffee back from her hand.

“You can drink this later. Get some sleep.”

_____________________________________

As Gianna sat in the makeup chair, she silently thanked Tony Stark for the millionth time that day. She’d woken up several hours later with a small bandage on her arm and no other evidence that she’d felt like a bomb went off in her head that same morning. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she swore that even her skin glowed more now than it ever had.

Bucky sat on the couch in the dressing room, scrolling on his phone as he waited for the lengthy glam process to finish. His thumb flicked through various social media posts about Gianna and her ‘mysterious new man’. Wanda had texted him a link that morning while Gianna slept and now, in their brief downtime, Bucky found himself lost in the rabbit hole.

He couldn't believe how much attention they were getting, especially from Gianna's teenage girl fans.

"Candy Crush?" Gianna teased.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She smiled, still finding it simultaneously adorable and hilarious how out of touch Bucky was with pop culture. “Whatcha reading?”

Bucky looked up at her, cheeks flushing. "Just some posts about us," He flipped the phone around so she could see. “Wanda sent one to me, turns out there’s quite a narrative online about you and your mystery man.”

“No way,” Gianna plucked the phone from Bucky’s hand. “What are they saying now -”

She paused, eyes catching a photo of her and Bucky grabbing coffee a few weeks ago. She scrolled and saw another of them arriving at Tony’s place the night before. Scroll. Photo of them smiling at each other backstage. Scroll. Photo of Bucky walking her to their black SUV with his hand on her back. Scroll. A photo shot through the window of a different coffee shop of Gianna laughing at something he’d said.

“What does ‘ship’ mean?” Bucky interrupted her scrolling.

Gianna laughed, feeling a sense of amusement. "It means they want us to be in a relationship,"

Bucky looked at her, feeling a sense of surprise. "Really?".

"Yeah, they think we're cute together," she said, flicking through a few more posts before handing the phone back to him. “Like if you ‘ship’ two people, you’re rooting for them to get together.”

He took the phone back, his brow furrowed.

“For example, I ship Steve and Nat.”

Bucky looked up at her and grinned, seeming to understand. “I guess I do too.”

He looked back down at his phone and couldn't decide if he was flattered or embarrassed. He wasn't used to being in the public eye, especially not in such a personal way. Over the years, he’d seen dozens of articles about his past, his trials, his pardon. Never any speculation about his love life, not that there had ever been much to speculate about. He was surprised that so many people were interested in their potential relationship.

Gianna seemed to notice his quiet thought process. "If it makes you uncomfortable in any way, we can be more secretive," Her eyes were kind. “I’m used to it, so I don’t really notice any more. We can stop going in public if you -”

Bucky shook his head, cutting her off. "No, I love being seen with you."

His direct answer seemed to catch them both off guard. Gianna’s stomach filled with butterflies. Even Kate froze, the curling wand clutched in one hand and a lock of Gianna’s hair in the other. She glanced back and forth between the two, wondering how the hell they were the only two people who didn’t seem to realize that the sparks between them could power a small country.

“There are worse things to have people talk about. Trust me.” Bucky spoke again, diffusing the palpable tension in the room.

“Watch out Tom and Zendaya.” Gianna joked, hearing Kate chuckle behind her.

“Who?”

Gianna rolled her eyes.

____________________________

Later that day, as afternoon turned to evening, Gianna sat in her green room. Bucky had gone to grab her water, so she was alone with her thoughts. She picked up her phone and opened her camera roll. Somehow, over the tour, it had been filled with sweet memories.

As she waited for Bucky to return or for the stage manager to come tell her to get in position, she flicked through the photos, her heart skipping a beat with each happy memory coming back to her.

Gianna's Camera Roll

When Bucky returned and told her they were ready for her backstage, she tossed her phone into her duffel bag and followed him out the door.

Something told her that the love songs in her setlist would sound especially convincing tonight.

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #avengers #bucky barnes x oc #bucky fanfic #winter soldier #bucky fluff #winter soldier fluff #sebastian stan #winter solider x reader #bodyguard!bucky

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shaunsummers · 1 year

Text

Tek's Birthday!

Resting her cheek against her knuckles, Rebel's eyes widen as she listens to Tek. Compliments, cash money, more reasons to shoot her a text. "Yeah, I can send you some pictures. Maybe, I can craft you a costume, since you like my work. You could be my mascot." With a flattered smile rising, and just enjoying the high of being around her, her stare is only interrupted by a spark of self consciousness. It was always in the back of her mind. Loving her...Rebel never stopped; but it just was never something that happened. Maybe that would change. Who knew? A conversation for a later time, perhaps, but, today was the day for the best mutha fuckin' birthday ever. Tek was her go-to, her best friend, the ride-or-die homie. She deserved as much.

"Oh, yes." With a big grin, Sierra looks over at her, holding the bowl of ready simmer meatballs. "Rebel made the butter. Get ready to taste colors." She lets out a small chuckle but her face soon turns serious. "...Wait, you're staying here, right? You're not driving home?"

Sitting back to enjoy the displays of shameless confidence, Siren cackles at the 'microwave' comment. This one was fun. A pity they never had the chance to hangout during high school, she could of seen them being easy friends back then. "Well, go you for getting your fuck on. But I get it. Breaking the tops is a special type of reward." She smiles over at her, flicking the cigarette over the tray. Though, the edge of her lips start to drop as she inhales another drag, her mind going in a less humored direction. "I get that shit about Ash, though. More than I should. She's a fucking swamp monster." The term being taken from Devin and stocked in the pile of ever growing phrases to refer to her as. "We dated, too, actually. Not that I'm proud."

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

"I wouldn't mind helping you set up a site or something too, if it really gets going! There's this girl I know that just makes keychains of nerd stuff and they sell like hotcakes, like ten bucks a pop!" Tek beams, her mind already racing with ideas. It wasn't just that it was Rebel—though that was reason enough to want to help—she really did believe in her talent. Even when she was in high school and they were being silly and playing dress-up, her costumes were always really well-made and she'd figured Rebel bought them. With a few years added on, Tek was only more impressed. And for what she knew, people were mostly ordering stuff online from randos, so why couldn't Rebel be one of them? She could personally vouch for her awesomeness on top of that. And with rich kids? She could probably charge more, too. It could be something!

It took a moment for all the wild ideas to stop ricocheting in her brain and bring her back into the moment, but she eventually realizes the rest of what Rebel said. "Be your mascot?" She laughs, mirroring Rebel by propping her elbow against the couch, resting her chin in her hand. "I could do that. But if you make me something, I'm paying you for it. Hey! I can be your first...Georg..ian?...customer! You gotta show off the product to make those sweet, sweet sales." The thought of putting up flyers full of pictures of herself while wearing one of the costumes tickled her, but the prospect of having to stick around a little longer to take them was appealing. Of course she'd stay longer if Rebel wanted her to.

"Shit, you have to. I don't think I've ever seen you totally shitfaced." Quinn laughs, staring up at Shaun. "Stay! Stay! Stay!" She pumps her fists in the chant. At some point, Shaun always seemed like she started to have the stick a little too far up her ass, so the chance to see her get messy was tantalizing.

"Uh..." Shaun had no idea they were about to get completely blitzed on edibles in addition to the drinking. She'd figured she'd eat some bread, sober up a little, and wiggle her ass right on home. She didn't know the bread would be full of weed. "I don't know..." Shaun unconsciously and inquisitively trails her gaze to Lilith. It was Rebel's house, sure, but for some reason it felt like her call.

Beatrix already had the cannon fully loaded to dive into the top conversation, especially with the implication of Siren sharing the hobby—shit, maybe Shaun did have one hell of an inflexible type—but at the mention of Ash again, she can only stare, flabbergasted. "Wait, what?" Beatrix gawks, her jaw nearly flying off its hinge. "Before or after Shaun?"

Her head was already calculating it, though, and besides that, Siren's hollowed stare said enough. "Jesus Christ...God damn it, I knew Shaun was leaving stuff out, that fucker." Aware she was leaking information just a little, she shrugs with a slight grimace. "I know a few things...believe me, she wasn't forward about it. But I did not know that." She sits dumbly for a moment, just trying to process the sheer depth of the dyke drama.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" It spills out of her brazenly. "Jesus, didn't you hear anything about her when you were dating Shaun?" Surely, her foray into dating a fucking 22 year-old when she was only 15 wouldn't have fallen completely off the radar. Especially so soon after their breakup. Beatrix thought it was demented even back then, and Ash had always creeped her out, even initially when she pretended to be decent—she just had a little too much of a To Catch A Predator vibe—but only being two years younger than Ash had been...even now, she couldn't imagine thinking of a 15 year-old as anything other than a kid. Not to mention how manipulative and psycho she was. Just the thought makes her outwardly shudder.

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madaboutmunson · 2 years

Text

Everlong Chapter 8 - Everlong (Let Me Call You Sweetheart Part 2)

Warnings: swearing, food, vampire things, blood, fluff, possession, goodbyes

Summary: Now in a safe place reader can make some important decisions without panic clouding their judgement.

Notes: If you've read this far in the series thank you. I'm honoured you'd take the time out to read my little stories when there are so many out there to choose from. This is the last part of this series. I hope if you got this far you've enjoyed it. Thank you so much for reading ❤️

Thank you to @portaltothevoid and @munchabunch for helping me out with this and generally being awesome human beings I'm very lucky to know

Most of the trip to the island was pleasant enough, reminiscing and catching up between the three of them. You noticed a few awkward moments between Steve and Eddie particularly.

It wasn't as if those feelings were still there for one another, but neither could pretend it hadn't happened, but Steve's true love wasn't Eddie, or any of his other partners, it was his family. Although the weirdness of the situation wasn't lost on you, Mr Harrington had seemed to have made his peace regarding you and Eddie being together.

On landing you realised the expectations you have for Dustin's island had been way off the mark. You were all given large insulated coats to put on, and some wipes to remove some of the blood, and on the way to touch down was a battle against a howling forceful wind.

The futuristic estate itself was nothing short of palatial. The buildings were huge, but set inside the rocks to hide them away; however,once inside it was almost like a luxury resort.

Mr Harrington runs into the main living room and is immediately swamped by his ten kids, he has hugs and kisses for them all.

Next they herded to Dustin, where the kids are absolutely over the moon to see him in person and keep poking him playfully to ensure he's not a hologram.

You hang back with Eddie, who suddenly looks really quite nervous, you take his hand in yours, "It'll be ok," you try to reassure him.

You give the Harrington's a small wave hello, thank them for coming to the concert, the photograph they sent you, and then are rushed from the side by Sebastian. You pick him up in your free arm, "Hey buddy! I'm so glad to see you!" You press him to you in a half hug.

"I'm happy you're here too. I even made you a playlist, especially for coming home. I know this isn't our real home, but Dad said it is temporarily, so I think that means I can send you this now." He smiles up at you, and then looks at Eddie.

"Are you Ambrose?" Sebastian asks whilst getting out his phone to take a picture.

Eddie is very quiet, so you help out, "No, this is Eddie," and you show Sebastian that you are holding Eddie's hand.

"What happened to Ambrose?" Sebastian asks, "We thought you really liked him. Also two Eddie's around here is gonna get confusing."

"Well…" you try to figure out an explanation that Sebastian might find acceptable, but Eddie interrupts you.

"I used Ambrose as my online persona, but my real name is Eddie. You have another Eddie here?" he gives Sebastian a happy closed mouth smile.

Sebastian scans over Eddie, and despite the huge coat covering most of his clothing, asks, "Do you like Heavy Metal?"

Eddie laughs, "I sure do. What about you?"

Sebastian frowns a little, "I like it well enough, I just can't get this new playlist for our Eddie quite right. Would you help me? It's for Edina." Eddie searches the room for whom his Harrington name sake might be. Sebastian points at the toddler currently running around with a saucepan on her head bumping into things and laughing wildly.

"Figures," Eddie nods and laughs. "Sure, I can help you," he adds.

Sebastian lifts up their phone and tries to take a picture of both of you, "I don't think that will work buddy, but I'll send you one I made earlier," you quickly rifle through your phone and feel a little bashful, as Eddie peers over at your phone to see you scrolling through a bunch of his old photos you had edited yourself into, or the other way around.

He laughs and shakes his head, but then notices the one of him in his hellfire club chair next to Krusher, "But you can send that one to me immediately!"

There would be more awkward moments to come. The two eldest Harrington's with dark curly hair and deep brown eyes. You'd seen a bashful exchange between Mr Harrington and Eddie. Before Eddie mercifully killed it the only way he knew how, getting in Mr Harrington's personal space to say, "Glad to see you didn't get over me for a few years at least, Harrington!" He laughed and patted Steve in the back, "I'm glad you got your beautiful family."

You have your own awkward moment when Dustin decided on giving you a long lecture on how old Eddie actually is, but then shooting down his own argument by then going on to talk about how time works in The Upside Down, and what youth means to a vampire.

Eventually everyone seems to have greeted everyone, even Krusher, who was confined to a rather luxurious utility room for an uninterrupted nap.

You and Eddie are shown to your individual rooms, because 'there are impressionable kids in this house damnit.' A suitcase is already in your room as is the guitar. Thankfully this suitcase is one from home rather than tour, so you won't look so out of place.

Purely because of the huge corner tub, you get clean in the shower, but take a little time to yourself soaking in the tub afterwards. Your body aches especially your hands and arms, the hot water soothes them a little as you lie back and relax. Through the crack in the door you can see her propped up against the bed.

'Hello?' you try in your mind. The response is silence. You roll your eyes, it had worked that once at battle of the bands, but maybe now everything was different.

You sink under the water for a while, staring up at the ceiling. Then the impossible happens, you feel something tugging backwards. You figure you must have dropped off for a second and try to sit up, but it pulls you backwards again.

Bubbles fill the water in front of you as you frantically try to grip the sides to pull yourself up, or scream for help, but the surface rapidly becomes much further away than arm's length, increasingly distant, as the seconds tick by.

Then you feel yourself flip over and land on a cold wet floor, shivering. You take a look around and there is nothing, pure absence. You see just darkness until you turn around to spot a red guitar, lying in a puddle. You move over to it mostly for some kind of comfort, but maybe also a clue as to where you were.

As you get up close you can see it's just like her, except the paint work is a pure cherry red, there is no black on the paint work.

"Hello," says a voice next to you, startling you.

You jump back a little, and in front of you might be the most beautiful woman you've ever seen. Her long dark hairis in a thick braid that seems to wrap around her body, her brilliant eyes of emerald green and her skin a coffee colour dappled with freckles. Your eyes land finally at her feet, grubby with earth and grass.

"Yedda?" you enquire happily.

"The very same," she courtesies and her accompanying laugh sounds like a melody, "You wanted to talk to me?"

"I did. I was just wondering…" you start to speak feeling a little awkward.

"I know the answers you seek, and I will tell you no riddles. You have loved him as truly as anyone can, but only because you are partly me," she says, reaching out to help you up.

You nod a little sadly, "I thought that might be the case." You take her hand and get to your feet. You glance down at the guitar and then back up at her, "You know, my whole life, I've never really wished for love, maybe a few times I thought about it, but it's not my dream."

"I know," she replies, "You just wanted to play, correct?"

"Is that why you chose me? Out of everyone?" you ask quizzically.

"Well, it was a number of factors honestly. Eddie already knew you, though you didn't know him yet, and he was intrigued by you. When he put me in the window, I could tell you were unspoilt, and you had dreams of ascending to great heights in music, and out of all the things I can do, that one is by far the easiest."

"You had hoped to make a trade?" You start putting the pieces together.

"Indeed, but when the accident happened, we were too far apart," she remarks, "but the flip side of the coin, because of the accident," she points at your side, "a small part of me got to live my dream. A small taste."

"To be with Eddie?" you ask gently.

"To be whole again, as we should have always been. He is the other part of my heart, my soul, my very being," she enthuses at you.

"And the trade?" You ask, fearing the worst.

"Your dreams for mine," she hisses her eyes sparkling, "I would have your form, and you would be able to play to thousands every night, hear the roar of the crowd, bewitch them with your song, assist or mould your player, until you move to the next. You would be eternal. Pure sorcery."

"Would you give me time to say my goodbyes first?" you ask and her eyes flash with delight.

"Gladly!" She radiates joy like an almost blinding light.

You are thrust out of the water's surface in a sit-up, coughing a little and gasping for breath for a few moments. You carefully get out of the bath and get dried and dressed. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you look down at the guitar again, as your bedroom door wiggles open and a furry snout forces their way in.

Krusher sits in front of you. He tilts his head, resting his chin on your knee and raises his eyes to yours. It's almost like his honey eyes know this is goodbye. You ruffle his fur, "You be a good boy now, understand?" You kneel on the floor and give him a great big hug and a kiss on the head. You head out the door as he lies down at the base of the guitar and leans against it.

You sit down with everyone else for a huge feast of a meal, maybe a little too excessive, but it felt right. Looking around the table, everyone is laughing and smiling, old friends reminiscing, new friends getting to know one another.

As the evening moves onto parlour games of charades, the Harrington's slowly, but surely, start heading to bed. You stop Sebastian before he heads up, "How do you feel about playing the guitar?"

"Gee I don't know, it seems kinda straight forward to do, but honestly it's a little noisy sometimes. I had to borrow Edina's ear defenders at the concert, but I still had a fun time. Well, before those bad people turned up anyway," he recalls.

You give him a tight hug, "Do you think Edina might wanna learn one day? If she did, would you help her? I know you are the smartest Harrington after all," you smile at him.

"Of course I would! I'm her big brother. I'm always going to take care of her. Will she play the guitar? Hmmm, I'm not sure yet." He looks over at Edina screaming her lungs out as Steve attempts to take her to bed, "I think she'd make a pretty good singer though. Dad's always saying she's got a good set of pipes on her, which doesn't actually mean pipes it means lungs and vocal chords," he says proudly. "Anyway I better go, new playlist to try for her bedtime tonight," he gives you another small squeeze and runs up the stairs after them.

"Have I gotta keep my eye on this little shrimp too?" Eddie says with a laugh, putting his arm around your waist, and pulling you close to him. Dustin gives him a signal to cut it out, and gestures over to the teens still present in the area. Eddie puts his hands up in surrender, and takes a step away from you.

Eddie hides his mouth with his hand and whispers to you, "He's still a total butthead," making you both laugh at one another. His eyes linger on you as his smile grows before he looks away quickly, putting his hands into his back pockets.

Eddie waves Dustin over, and whispers, "Look man, I gotta get something to eat soon, and I don't wanna be breaking any house rules, ya know?"

Dustin slaps him on the back, "Don't worry dude, I've got a fridge full of…er….your dietary requirements. I plan ahead, remember?"

Eddie throws an arm around him and says in his best British accent "Lead the way, good sir," and gives you a small salute wave before leaving with Dustin.

You start tidying up some of the plates, even though you know Dustin probably has someone sort this out for him.

"Harringtons, if you aren't going to bed, you should be getting ready for it, or studying," Mr Harrington calls out to the living room and claps his hands at the kids. He's met with a variety of responses, but ultimately they all file out saying their goodnights.

Eventually, he joins you in the dining area, "You're thinking about it, huh?"

You look up at him, and freeze, "About what?"

"Her offer, the trade," he says easily, scraping the food away.

"Well…yeah. It's a win-win honestly," you say putting the plates in the dishwasher.

He sighs, "Even though you'll be stuck in there, and she'll be walking around as you? Forever."

You turn around to look at him again, "Mr Harrington, music was my first love and it will be my last, but making music, moving people with it…it's more powerful than I could have imagined. The way I'd be capable of that…I can't do it like this. I know it sounds absolutely insane. I get it, and I'm young, but believe me when I say, having the crowd in the palm of my hand, wasn't something I was really feeling myself, those were her feelings."

Mr Harrington puts the dishes on the side, walks over and grabs you in a hug, "I'm not trying to change your mind, Y/N. I just want you to make sure you've really thought about this."

You nod into his shoulder, "I have. I get what I want. I bring two soulmates together. You and Dustin can get back to living your non apocalyptic lifestyles. Plus a chance to defy the gods themselves, come on? Who wouldn't want to do that?" You move back and smile up at him.

"Defy the gods? You've been hanging out with Eddie for too long," he laughs and ruffles your hair.

"I'd say don't tell Eddie, but he'll figure it out eventually. I'm hoping he'll be so enamored he won't mind," you say with a slight sigh.

You start making your way up the stairs, "What about Eddie? You don't wanna say goodbye?" Mr Harrington calls after you.

You shake your head, "I think the next hello he'll get is a much more exciting prospect." You turn and jog up the stairs.

You open the door to your room and pick up the guitar and put it on.

"I'm not really sure how this works, but I figure you'll show me. I'm ready to make the trade. My body for this body forever," you say quietly aloud.

You wait for a few moments and nothing happens. As you attempt to take the guitar off, it snaps back to your body like it was on an elastic band. There is sort of whooshing and almost like your surroundings rush past you at lightning speed until there is an abrupt thud.

You are spun around and before you know it, you're looking in front of a mirror. You see yourself holding up the guitar, but the crackled body paint has changed to an abstract lined pattern.

It is only when you see yourself laugh and shed a few tears that you realise you are not the owner of that form anymore. A sense of relief washes over you, as you are turned to face your old body. "Thank you. I'll always make sure you don't get shut away."

She props you up against the wall, and positions you so you can see outside. Krusher looks up at you, and sits under where you lean.

A few minutes later you can see her run out into the snow with the huge insulated coat on. Eddie runs after her, and stops short of her a couple of metres away. They slowly raise their hands to one another as they step closer to one another. As their hands touch nothing visually happens, but audibly you hear a sonic boom.They embrace one another tightly, tears of joy spilling from their eyes, and you hear the most beautiful melody you have ever heard, as Eddie picks her up and spins around with her in his arms.

((Not sure if I should have switched perspectives for this moment or not))

—-----

You spend a few months with Yedda and Eddie until she finds a suitable dreamer for you to help catapult to stardom. Meanwhile, Eddie wastes no time turning Yedda into a vampire just like him, so it really would be eternity. He really meant it when he said he was through with losing her. You don't think you've ever seen him so happy.

You spend a few years making a nobody into a somebody and trying to change the world a song at a time. Moving just one person in the crowd could be enough to set wheels in motion for greater changes.

Then in the dead of the night, a mist fills the huge rehearsal space you mostly frequented when not on the road. Yedda's form returns, grasping you from the wall, "It's time," she smiles as you are whisked away.

—------

Mr Harrington's house was generally a lot quieter these days, but today was a special day, and everyone was home for a change, all except one.

"Ok everyone, let's just keep it down. They're nearly here!" Mr Harrington says gently in a whisper. The chatter continues until Sebastian shouts "Shut up!!!" holding his headphones to his ears.

As silence fills the house, the Harrington's hide from sight, until the key goes in the lock and they hear the voice of Dustin "...so I figure why don't I just come get you and your Dad can get the ice-cream, right?"

As the front door opens, everyone jumps up and shouts "Surprise!!!" nearly causing Edina to fall back outside, from the shock.

She looks around the heavily decorated room with wide eyes, "Whoa, guys, this is incredible!!!" is all she manages to get out before she is rushed by everyone, offering presents or hugs and even a few birthday bumps.

The doorbell rings and Mr Harrington goes to answer it, and finds a large wrapped present on the doorstep.

He checks the tag: "To Eddie Van Harrington, Happy Birthday! Hope it's the Most Metal Ever!!! Love from Uncle Eddie and Aunt Yedda"

He picks up the box and brings it inside, "Edina!! I think this is for you!"

She rushes towards the gift, grabbing the card, quickly reading it and shoving it in her pocket. She frantically rips off the paper and finds a black case with her name spray painted on it in red paint. She carefully flicks it open to reveal a red and black BC rich Warlock.

She quickly puts it on and stands in front of the mirror and plays a chord that rings out beautifully.

You try to speak to Edina in her mind, but clearly this ability is something that you must learn.

Seeing Edina in her element, the return of the guitar and everyone having a good time, Mr Harrington slips off to his office for a few minutes.

He looks at himself in the mirror and half smiles, "Good job, Steve," he says as he unbuttons his shirt a little revealing a fluffy tuft of chest hair, in which is nestled a pick necklace, he holds the half neon half black pick in fingers and runs his fingertips over it. He pats it, smiling and buttons his shirt back up before heading over to the computer.

He sits down at it and wakes it into life, opens a browser and starts typing,

Thank you all for your kindness, support and effort over these last 2 years. This group has meant the world to me, it has helped a young person gain their life back, and is enabling them to achieve their dreams. I'm closing this group as it has finally achieved its purpose, our Guitar Hero is free 💚 Hope you all enjoy the anniversary show if you're going xx

He clicks send and leans back in his chair, and spins around a little. His hand finds its way to the locked drawer as it often did, in these quiet moments. He removes the key hidden within his electric pencil sharpener , unlocks the drawer, reaches into it and pulls out some papers. Two birth certificates, one with the amended details for Edina Harrington, and one with the original details for one Baby Munson.

Steve didn't know if Eddie knew about his father's other children, and ultimately the children they'd had themselves, but when the fostering services had asked him if he had room for one more, at first wanted to say no, but something, a gut feeling, had told him to at least help out, it was a baby who had lost its mother and father in a tragic accident after all.

Then when he saw the original documents, he couldn't believe his eyes. It was fate, destiny, something otherworldly he wasn't sure, but she'd found her way here. At the time he had not been on speaking terms with Eddie, so it's not like he could have told him, and even if he had been, was it really his place to announce a whole family Eddie might not know about? Maybe Vampires could just sniff genetics out or something?

He looked at the framed piece of Evelyn's cross-stitch on his desk "We all look out for one another". The number one rule of the Harrington household. It was something he’d had to learn himself growing up. Only having to go through some very tough stuff to unlearn the rule of “Look out for number one.”

Helping others is just what Steve did, it gave him a sense of purpose and ultimately made him feel whole. Prior to having people to care for, people that relied on him, he was mostly just a complete asshole. Buying into whatever was the popular thing to do. Whether that helpfulness was housing kids, giving kids a shot at a job at the record store, or helping strange little old ladies cross the street.

He'd give that one little old lady her due, though she was right about how important the guitar had been and it had come back to him eventually.

Steve's thoughts are interrupted by the doorbell again. He rushed down the stairs. He had to get to the pizza before the kids did, otherwise it was a free for all.

But, when he opens the door it's not what he expects at all. It might just be the most beautiful woman he's ever seen in his life. He can't tell her age, but he’d guess she was in her forties. Her sparkling vivid green eyes strike him immediately, her light brown freckled skin, and an insane amount of luscious dark hair cascading down her back. Steve forgets himself a moment staring at her, but eventually clears his throat and manages, "Um…sorry I thought you might be pizza…I mean be the person that delivers it, not pizza itself…er.." he leans against the door frame, and runs his hand through his hair, to establish some confidence back within himself, "So how can I be of assistance?"

She giggles and smiles beautifully, and hands him a card, "I just moved here," she waves vaguely into the distance. “I'm a music tutor. Someone told me you had a lot of kids, so I thought I'd shoot my shot, you know?" she says casually, her voice ringing out melodically.

Steve gives a light chuckle, and pockets the card not being able to take his eyes from her, "I've definitely got some budding musicians. I'll ask the kids about it, and give you a call for sure," he says, shifting his weight from the door frame and extending his hand out to her. "I'm Steve, from Harrington's Records in town. I could…you know..” he clicks his fingers a few times, “put some of your cards or posters in the store for you. Well you know if you wanna drop them off some time?" he says with a forced casualness.

She gives him a gentle smile, "That sounds amazing! I'll be sure to do that," she looks down at the floor with a smirk and looks back up at him, her hands behind her back, "Maybe tomorrow?"

A huge smile spreads across Steve's face, "I'll see you then."

—----------------------—---------------------------------------------------

Little Bonus: Eddie's POV

Dustin leads Eddie down to the wine cellar, and suddenly rushes ahead with all the excitement a man nearing the start of his fifties can, towards a stack of three wooden barrels. He beckons Eddie over with enthusiasm.

Eddie feels a churn of emotions within himself, and slows his approach. He sees that boyish eagerness in Dustin that he remembers so fondly, it makes Eddie feel a happy comfort that maybe in some ways Dustin hasn't changed just as he had asked him to that day in the field. There is however a looming air of uncertainty, a fear that Dustin could turn on him at any moment. He hesitates a moment too long and the big grin on Dustin’s face falls to a smaller more awkward one, “Hey man, I…I know we did some really stupid….” Dustin starts to say apologetically, but Eddie cuts him off.

“I won't lie about it, dude. I am totally worried about someone here one-eighty-ing on me,” Eddie shrugs, “But you know I’m working on it buddy.” He smiles and rushes Dustin for a hug as Eddie hopes that surging into an act of affection will make it easier to get over his paranoia. The abrupt movement puts a certain amount of fear into Dustin too. Eddie laughs at Dustin’s initial tensing up. “Seriously, I’ve had over 30 years to mist into your life and rip out your throat and I never have.” Eddie pushes out of the hug gently, “You on the other hand did shoot a stake at me,” Eddie raises his eyebrows at Dustin, trying to repress a huge know it all smile.

Dustin just shakes his head, and reaches around the side of the stacked barrels, something clicks and the front of the three barrels move away making up a secret door to a fridge full of white boxes. Dustin opens one up for Eddie and each box has quite a few blood packs in, all nicely chilled, "I read they should last about 3 weeks, seeing as your consuming them, but I also set up a water bath over there at body temperature, so you can always put it in there first if you so wish?"

Eddie observes all the items slowly, and recognises all the effort that's gone into accommodating him. Just a much more high tech, perfected support system version of what they'd tried all those years ago, when Eddie had been hiding in The Upside Down. A pang of regret goes through him, but he shakes it off. Now isn't the time for that, everyone is moving forward together. He folds his arms and looks at Dustin narrowing his eyes a little, "You know Henderson, I think you finally hit a new level of nerd. Do I just pop one of these bad boys like a capri sun?"

Dustin's smile can barely be contained on his face, he looks at Eddie for a few seconds and he embraces him again but tightly, "Shit! I've missed you, man."

Despite being roughly similar heights now, Eddie still scoops the back of Dustin's head and pulls him in against his shoulder cradling him, "I missed you too," Eddie says gently and smiles fondly down at him, trying not to get too overwhelmed by emotion. He pats Dustin on the back, "Alright that's enough Munson time for you, I think. Y/N will get jealous and you don't want that. Believe me!!"

Dustin gives Eddie arms a last tight grip, removing two blood packs from the fridge before closing it back up. Dustin offers a metal straw and blood pack to Eddie, and with the other he shows Eddie how to use the water bath. He pokes the straw into the pack and listens intently whilst sipping on his sustenance. Dustin's eyes keep being drawn to the blood pack and Eddie feels a little awkward. Dustin raises a finger and disappears into the corner of the room and finds out one of his company travel mugs. He offers it to Eddie who hides the pack inside it, they smile at one another and continue with the tutorial.

"So you and Y/N, huh?" Dustin pries playfully, "How's that going?"

Eddie looks up at him through his bangs, "Pretty good you know. Other than the whole mortal and eternal being thing." Eddie softly laughs and shrugs.

Dustin looks confused, "But you could make them like you right? You know, immortal…"

Eddie's eyes move around the room, "Just on a level it's not like that thought hasn't flashed by in my mind a few times these past couple of years…" he sighs "I figure, it has to be something I don't want to guess at. The kind of feeling when you know unequivocally that what you're doing is the correct thing. Beyond a speck of doubt. If something happened to me, you know…they would be alone." His eyebrows furrow as he contemplates that overwhelming loneliness happening to someone he cared for.

Dustin looks at him with sympathy and a sprinkling of guilt, but then suddenly his face changes. His eyebrows raise up high and he points an accusing finger at Eddie, "YEARS??? YEARS?!!!! What the hell, dude? You were in the cell?? How??!!"

"Like upside down stuff man, shit, I thought if Harrington knew, you did." Eddie says, perplexed.

"STEVE KNEW??!!! STEVE KNEW, AND DIDN'T TELL ME????" Dustin's voice was reaching a much higher pitch than normal.

Eddie's eyes go wide, and he grimaces realising he might have just dropped Steve in big trouble, "Well he didn't exactly know, maybe he just had a lucky guess?"

Dustin purses his lips, tilts his head at Eddie and folds his arms, "Really? Really Eddie? A lucky guess…"

"I mean, maybe…" Eddie starts but is cut off, by a strange sensation. Like a powerful singular vibration through his entire self, he almost loses his balance before righting himself. He frowns and looks at Dustin, "Did you….um…did you feel that?"

"Feel what Eddie? Betrayed by my best friend of nearly 40 years???" Dustin says frustrated.

Eddie finds it hard not to laugh, at Dustin's dramatic reaction, "Honestly dude, how many times have you teased him for being wrong, or making a suggestion you thought was stupid? He probably thought to keep it to himself until he had more evidence, or something." He says reassuringly.

Eddie slurps the end of his chilled drink, and puts it in the designated biohazard trash can, replacing it with the warmer one, and taking an experimental sip. His eyes flood with red and he clasps the cup tightly, the slight warmth penetrating the sides of the travel cup into his hand. He sighs in satisfaction "Oh yeah, that's the stuff!" Eddie comments with a little more growl in his tone, and crosses his eyes a little whilst looking at the straw lustfully.

Eddie remembers suddenly he's in the room with Dustin, and gives him a closed mouth smile, "They are both good, but this is definitely better. Sorry, if that, uh, weirded you out. It's just a temporary thing. Nothing to be afraid of if I'm already eating," he awkwardly laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.

Dustin, though definitely fearful of the transformation in Eddie's eyes and voice, has a full heart from making his old mentor feel accepted, and pats him on the back, "It's all learning, old timer", Dustin giggles mischievously as Eddie puts him in a playful headlock ruffling his hair, "Hey man, I'm trying to keep hold of that as long as I can!! Not so rough, huh?"

Eddie releases him and smiles warmly at him, his eyes changing back to their usual brown irises, their pleasant exchange is interrupted by something Eddie can't quite put his finger on, but it makes him turn around, and then back to Dustin, "Say did you hear something?"

Dustin shakes his head, "No, are you er…feeling ok?"

Eddie actually stops to think about the question because the sensation running through him now is almost entirely foreign to him, "Yeah…totally…" he smiles and laughs a little. "I feel great…like… really good," his smile widens, and he puts his cup down, before jutting his thumb towards the stairs, "I'm just gonna go check on something." He feels a joyful laugh creep up on him again. It almost feels as if he's on the verge of getting the giggles.

As he climbs the stairs Eddie wonders for a split second if the blood packs were laced with anything but again he shakes his head. Something inside him knows unequivocally that it's not that, it's something else, and he has to get to it. Whatever it was.

He gets to the top of the stairs and a flash of coat runs past him to the outside, "Hey, Y/N. What are you doing?" He shouts after them with a chuckle, but there is no response, they just run out the door.

That's when it happens, lub. Right in the centre of his chest.

No it can't be, he must be imagining things. He tries to brush it off but then it happens again, lub dub.

Eddie puts his hands on his chest and though he can barely feel anything at all, there is something, but an impossible something. He was dead. Undead.

He decides to rush outside to let Y/N know what is going on but as he steps outside and the door slides shut behind him, he feels it against his fingertips this time, lub dub, lub dub.

His heart was beating, for no purpose, other than to pound.

Excited or fearful, a huge grin unable to be held back any longer, Eddie chases after Y/N through the crunchy snow on the ground. Eager to tell them about what was happening.

That is until he closes in on them, and a few metres away, comes to an abrupt stop. A flash of neon lights to his eyes, he tries to blink them out, and shakes his head, but he's in an old memory, at the guitar shop, with Uncle Wayne at the counter behind him.

The neon lights that had flashed in his eyes took their places snaking around the guitars on the wall and spelling out the word ‘Music’ above them all. He is drawn to a guitar on the wall, raises his hand towards it, and feels a force urging him to get closer. As soon as he reaches out to grab the Stratocaster copy from the wall the feeling is snatched away from him, and he almost loses his footing. He looked around quickly, to ensure no one saw him reaching out to nothing.

Feeling a little embarrassed he shakes it off and moves along the wall, taking in all the beautiful instruments, their paintwork so shiny his face was reflected in them as he walks along he starts feeling that increasing gravitational pull towards something again, just as before. He definitely wasn't imagining it this time he raises his hand again, and he knows what happens next, Uncle Wayne…except this time he doesn't.

This time a raised hand, mirroring his own, reaches back to him, through the wall of guitar. The memory melts away and it's happening in the present except opposite him is Y/N, with a backdrop of pure white snow.

Eddie's other hand is still at his chest as his heart furiously pounds in his chest, his mouth partially open, leaving only room for a whimper to escape, and eyes wide.

"Y/N?" He doesn't understand at first why it's a question, but something deep within him, instinctively knows something is different about them.

"On the outside, yes," they reply, stepping forward, "but do not be afraid, you know me. Look deeper Eddie. You've known me for so long," they say their brows push up and together in a soft desperation, "See me, Eddie. Please."

Eddie blinks a few times, mirroring their step forward, his hand still raised towards their's…no…her's…it's definitely her's. He hasn't felt pounding in his chest in decades and it is terrifying, but he can not stop himself being drawn in. "You were at the guitar store," he manages to say quietly.

"Yes! That was me! I moved to see if you would follow," she replies. Eddie tilts his head at her, how could she possibly know that. She takes another step forward. Eddie does the same.

The feeling of being out of control is making his mind wrestle with itself. He's afraid, but also comforted. This is all an unknown territory that he appears to have known for most of his life. The battle rages within him until their finger tips touch.

"My…my Sweetheart?" He struggles to push past the emotion trying to strangle his words from him, looking deeply into her tear brimmed eyes, and clasps her hand with his own.

“Hello, my love,” she replies softly, tiny snowflakes settling on her eyelashes, that Eddie can't tear his eyes away from.

An almighty force thunders through Eddie as he grips onto her hand tightly, like a tsunami crashing over him. He feels a tear spill onto his own cheek and pulls her into his arms, and as he does a switch clicks in Eddie's brain, and the tears flood from his eyes, as he sees hers do the exact same.

"I knew you'd see me, my love. I just couldn't get to you," she says as she smiles broadly at him though her brow is contorted with the same overwhelming feelings he's experiencing.

"You've been here this whole time," he sobs, squeezing her tightly in his arms, "waiting for me?"

"I've waited longer than you know, and I'd wait longer still if I had to. You are my destiny Eddie. We are two halves of a whole. They tried so hard," she points at the sky "but not even they could tear us apart, for long. We always found our way back."

Eddie blinks the tears for his eyes quickly, an annoyance getting in his way from seeing her, "I always found you. I'll never lose you again. You're stuck with me forever, now."

He lifts her up and spins her around, her laughter fills the skies and his heart with the most beautiful melody he has ever heard.

Eddie's heart quietens to its usual silence, and finally he feels something that has eluded him his whole entire life, absolute blissful peace.

The End

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Check profile pinned message for other links 💚

Songs I listened to writing this chapter:

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddiemunson #eddie stranger things #eddie the freak munson #stranger things fanfiction #fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x reader #romance #Spotify

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sexybabystevie · 1 year

Note

i kinda want to get back into writing again, only im not exactly sure how if we're being honest. it's been so long and so much has happened i feel like i've lost the ability to do it. or the idea of writing feels so- distant. any tips on how to get back into it?

hi anon! i absolutely want to say that feeling this way is totally okay and valid! i feel like this a little bit currently, and it is pretty hard to stop feeling this way and to get out of that slump. however, i do think i can give you some tips!

also, i just want to say that it's totally okay if you don't want to write anymore, or if your mental wellbeing comes first. sometimes we get overwhelmed by what we feel we should be doing, and it's hard to just enjoy our old hobbies like we used to. if that's the case, taking a break can be good, but you can also use writing to try and cope with what's going on. (i do this a lot. you don't necessarily have to write about your situation, but you can do that if you want! i write very similar situations with some of my favorite characters - or sometimes i become a little evil and write pure angst to get through it. it helps!)

anyway, back to the tips!

1.) READ. i know this sounds a little silly, but sometimes we lose touch of how much we enjoy fics and literature because we don't have the time to enjoy others' works! reading your own share of fics can totally help, but it's okay if that doesn't apply to you or if it doesn't help at all. i become inspired by others frequently, so it's something that can assist me at times!

2.) try not to stress about it. i know this one is hard, but when we place a lot of pressure on ourselves to write perfectly, to have amazing works out to our followers all of the time, it really drains us of our drive and our inspiration, and it makes writing seem like a chore rather than something we're meant to enjoy.

3.) start out small. basically, try not to rush yourself into writing huge fics again. it's okay to do little blurbs or shorter one shots to get back into the groove of things.

4.) if you do have an idea that really inspires you, go for it! when i come up with an idea i absolutely love, sometimes the words are just easier to write, and i stress less about how im doing and have more fun! if you can do this, i totally suggest trying it!

5.) if you don't have any ideas, try pinterest or other sources. i have a boad on pinterest that's strictly writing prompts, and it's a great source for inspo and knowledge about writing! i know a lot of writing blogs exist on tumblr as well, so using those can be of great help too.

6.) check in with where your interests lie. this may sound strange, but part of the issue could be that you're trying to force yourself to write for characters or a series you no longer are passionate about (or are as passionate as you used to be). this is totally fine! maybe explore some new forms of media to write for, and incorporate that into your blog! (and don't stress, i find that the desire to write for certain series or media can come back in time! especially when/if you suddenly get more content for it!)

7.) if you're swamped with other things, don't force it! try not to stress even more about making your followes happy by giving them content. trust me when i say most of us would rather you enjoy what you post rather than feeling obligated to stress over something entirely and then post it. your health and happiness comes first, and when those needs are met it's so much easier to get back into the swing of things!

these are the main things that help me, i'm sure there are more but my brain isn't really working all that well right now. regardless, i hope that this helps you out anon! sending you so much love and positivity, you got this! <333

#em speaks #asks #dear anons #<333

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lumentears · 2 years

Text

Bloodborne NPCs rated by how well they would treat me on a date, from worst to best

Gascoigne's daughters obviously excluded.

21. Suspicious beggar

Listen, I know we all want a gentleman in the streets and a beast in the sheets, but we literally find him hunched over eating some people meat, and honestly, I'd rather you just take me to Denny's.

Rating: Even I, as a monsterfucker, must decline.

20. Skeptical man

I bet he would spend the entire time telling me about his upstart cheap funeral business. Scratch that, he'd take me to his upstart cheap funeral business and expect me to be impressed by his predatory installment payments and hidden fees.

Rating: No, I don't think buy-one-get-one-free is appropriate here, my guy.

19: Lonely old woman

I don't want to come off like a DARE-enthusiast but she literally needs sedatives in order to treat my like a human being. If you're going to need to pop some pills to stand the sight of me, I don't think we're right for each other.

Rating: Winners don't do drugs or something

18: Patches the Spider

Now, not to victim blame myself in this hypothetical situation, but with Patches, you know what you're getting into. You don't date a guy called Patches the Spider expecting him to be your one. You expect him to be the one that leaves you with the bill at an expensive restaurant.

Rating: Sends the most pathetic apology texts.

17: Old Hunter Yamamura

Big conspiracy theory vibes on this guy. Not neccessarily harmful, but you just can't keep a conversation going with a man who insists on reading you his conspiracy themed slam poetry.

Rating: Bad dates are a curse, and a curse is a shackle.

16: Iosefka, the real one

Please remember that this list is only concerned with the datability of the NPC, not how cute I personally find them. And, sadly, I think Iosefka gives off big married to her job vibes. Lots of so sorry, i got swamped at the clinic texts at 8pm while I've been inhaling free breadsticks at the Yharnam olive garden with nobody to stop me and only the pity of the staff for company as I insist my date will show up any second now.

Rating: *shoving old memes into my purse* I have to leave immediately

15: Provost Willem

It's Friends reruns at his place or nothing with this dude. Will not get up from his comfy chair and you'll have to find the snacks at his house on your own.

Rating: "Fear the old blood"? Not very adventurous of you.

14: Fauxsefka

Very hot and cold. I am 100 % aware that any date with Fauxsefka is going to end with me being experimented upon, but until then, I'll be in for a delightfully sinister night. The most unselfaware evil date of them all.

Rating: "Don't worry...I'll be with you for the rest of your life."

13: Vileblood Hunter Alfred

Yeah, yeah, I know he's dreamy. I just don't have the energy to listen to a guy who's clearly still hung up on his ex. I don't want to compete with a dude named Martyr Logarius.

Rating: Looking for a martyr in your relationship just doesn't seem healthy to me.

12: Brador

He's got the YA bad boy vibes. Just look at his laid-back lean, his long hair, his antlers...

Imagine going out to do whatever YA bad boys do on a date...smoking in public and heckling skaters at a skatepark or something, only to find out that the dude you're on a date with used to be an assassin for the church. What are you going to talk about now? Can you even ask questions anymore? What he lets something slip you weren't supposed to know and now he has to kill you?

Rating: 20 questions is probably off the table.

11: Annalise, queen of the vilebloods

She's always a tad distant, don't you think? Like yes, I will take the 5 bad leftist points and admit sometimes thinking about being courted by a queen like in the good old times is big sexy, but in reality as long as she insists I kneel before talking to her we'll never see eye to eye.

Rating: Also she canonically rejects you after offering her the ring of betrothal and I don't think I can handle that.

10: Valtr

Not a bad guy, per se. Definitely has the influence to take me somewhere nice. I'm just very uncomfortable by the fact that he apparently has never heard of trapping the vermin under a glass and putting it outside. Valtr, you don't have to kill the wiggly blood centipede because it's gross!

Rating: Fake date scheme: Instead of calling an exterminator, fake date a hunter.

9: Adella the Nun

It pains me very much to say this, but realistically, Adella probably wouldn't be the best date. You'd ask her where she wanted to go and she'd be all like "oh, I don't mind as long as it's with you" and you'd be left thinking "what a nice sentiment, but we've been dating for five months and I still don't know anything about your interests!"

Rating: Voted most likely to say I love you on the first date.

8: Simon the Harrowed

A tad gossipy. He would be all like "Do you know why this Six Flags was closed last summer? Apparently two kids got flung out of the roller coaster only two months apart, and all they did over the summer was raise the minimum age of that coaster." Like, thanks for the fun facts but do you think you could have chosen literally any other point in time to divulge it than when we were being strapped in for the roller coaster ride?

7: Retired Hunter Djura

A compassionate man! Also a man that would have his house filled with a shit ton of animals he rescued, and would introduce you to each and every one. That's cute and all, but you're never quite sure if he actually knows what he's doing with all these animals.

Rating: Do...do you have a license to keep that alligator?

6: The Doll

Makes you the best tea. Actually, she would take you on the best date, but there'd always be something missing. I'd always be wondering if she isn't just mirroring what she thinks I'd want out of a date.

Rating: Don't mind me spiralling over the moral implications of dating the doll.

5: Saint Adeline

She's kind, gentle and incredibly sweet. She'd also mention some fucked up self-depricating thing about herself or her past so offhandedly that you wouldn't even know where to begin to talk about it, and she's dropped that verbal bomb like it's nothing, but it would leave you a tad uncomfortable nevertheless.

Rating: Hold up. Wait. Just a second. You know it's not healthy to refer to yourself as nothing, right?

4: Gilbert

We're both outsiders in a city that's notably very unfriendly towards outsiders. There's so much to bond over, and we could help each other with our respective troubles! Sadly, he is in the process of turning into a beast, but he's being safe about it and everything!

Rating: Suspicious beggar wishes he were you.

3: Arianna, Woman of the Night

If common theories are to be believed, she really is the best of both worlds: Descended of the Vilebloods but also one of us common folk. And she's got a stable income, honestly, what can't this woman do? Of course, there's the whole eldritch pregnant with an alien baby situation, but honestly, it's your loss if you're not up to it.

Rating: What more can I say but MILFBACAL (mother i'd like to fuck but also cherish and love)?

2: Oedon Chapel Dweller

Seems to me like a real picnic date person. Definitely has some moments of uncomfortable self-deprecation as well, but I think they just need some support in order to get the help they need to find their way out of those patterns.

Rating: Hands just the right size to hold.

1: Eileen the Crow

She's just got it figured out. Of all of the Bloodborne NPCs, she's the one who's got her life together, well, as together as one can have their life in Yharnam. She's got a stable job, she knows when to quit, and even if she's grouchy about it, she will accept help when she needs it. She's an outsider too, but she's also got plenty of experience in Yharnam and in life in general.

Rating: Sweep me off my feet any time!

#bloodborne #saint adeline #eileen the crow #plain doll #vileblood hunter alfred #yes i am tagging only the guys who i think will net the most people looking at this post #i spend way to much time on my shitpost to not make everyone look at them #technically blood saint apologism

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lemony-snickers · 2 years

Note

Hello, Lemony! I hope you're having a great day.

Here's a soft promt for u: accidentally saying " i love you" too early, but the other pulls them in for a kiss and says it back

I'm always looking forward to your works 😊 Love you ❤️❤️

hello, my dear. thanks so much for your kind words! i hope you're having a wonderful day/night wherever you are, and that this little ficlet brings you some joy. <3

send me a soft prompt and i’ll write a drabble

You are smitten.

Not that it's a surprise, really. Who wouldn't be?

Kakashi Hatake is somehow the perfect combination of everything you've ever wanted in a partner.

Strong and hardworking, smart and thoughtful, silly and a little strange. He can as easily slaughter a powerful enemy as perfectly quote Icha Icha. He spends as much time training hard enough most of your fellow shinobi would pass out as rolling in the mud with his more playful ninken, allowing them to slobber all over his vest and mask.

You've always known these things about him, of course. But it's different when you're so close to him. And even though it's taken years for you to work up the courage, somehow--finally--you have managed to convince him to go out with you.

It's your third date and you're watching him carefully sip tea from the saucer you packed for your picnic, angling your eyes down to offer him the privacy he hasn't asked for, but you're still willing to provide.

When he wants you to see his face in full, you're certain he'll let you know.

The date is sort of a disaster, to be honest. You meant to prepare a homemade bento, but ended up swamped with work and rushing out to the nearest restaurant to snag something for takeout before heading home to change in a flash.

You're fairly certain you still smell like antiseptic, despite your best efforts.

But Kakashi appears content with his onigiri and miso soup, and is especially thankful for the green tea you managed to brew just in time and pour into a canteen, splashing plenty of it along your counter in your haste.

One thing you're glad for is that Kakashi always seems just as nervous and unsure of all this as you do. You notice the hint of a blush on his cheeks when you compliment him on anything, the way he averts his eyes when you meet his gaze unexpectedly.

It's strange, seeing the normally assured Copy Ninja so flustered. But it lets you know you're not alone in your fumbling, at least.

When he finishes his tea, Kakashi situates himself against the trunk of the tree at your backs, gesturing for you to join him. You do, sliding up closer, but with a few millimeters of carefully maintained space between your bodies, so your legs aren't quite touching.

"This was a great idea," he says.

Your heart flutters at the warm timbre of his voice so close to your ear.

"I'm glad you like it."

In truth, a picnic felt incredibly juvenile when you suggested it, but you'd noticed how uncomfortable Kakashi was during your last date at a busy restaurant. As you thought it might still be too soon to invite him over to your place for a meal, this seemed a good compromise.

You try to stifle a yawn to little avail and hear your companion chuckle.

"You can..." he clears his throat, "you can rest your head on my shoulder, if you like."

You feel a rush of heat through your body as your brain searches desperately for a response.

"Ah-okaythanks," is the best it comes up with and you wince.

As you settle your head against Kakashi's shoulder, though, it feels right, even if it's also unexpectedly intimate. The sun is just beginning to set over Konohagakure and the sky is awash in deep oranges and pinks, a lovely contrast to the dark green of the trees surrounding you.

You close your eyes take a long, slow breath, letting the contentment of the moment seep through you.

You stop thinking and allow yourself to just be.

Which is how you manage to make a complete and utter fool of yourself in the next moment when you close you mutter, "I think I love you."

You feel Kakashi's shoulder tense immediately and your eyes snap open as you sit up and back away, putting as much space between you as you can without literally running away.

It is your third date. And you just--

Oh gods.

"I-I mean! I didn't! That's not--" You fumble for words but all that comes out are garbled sounds that don't mean anything.

You cain't say you love him! What were you thinking?! Sure you've known him a lot longer than you'd been dating him, and probably your feelings are stronger than his because you recognized them a long time ago. It's just taken years to work up the courage to ask him out, but still!

Your brain scrambles, but the incomprehensible word vomit continues, unfiltered and unabated. Kakashi says nothing. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit!

You're still stuttering meaningless nonsense when you feel strong hands frame your face, and soft lips press against your own.

You're frozen. Completely. Because this... this is certainly not what you expected; for your lame and mistimed admission to result in your very first kiss with Kakashi Hatake.

This kiss is quite brief and when he pulls away, you don't avert your eyes, instead drinking in the sight of Kakashi with his mask loosely pooled around his neck.

His cheeks are red, but he's smiling softly.

"I think I might love you, too," he says.

All you can manage in response is a dumbfounded, "Huh?" before he kisses you again. It takes only a second before your fingers find their way into his hair, pulling him forward with a soft grunt as you deepen the kiss.

Because if this is the first time you kiss him, you want him to remember it. You want it to be the best first kiss he's ever had.

The last one, too, hopefully.

#lemony scribbles #soft prompt drabble response #kakashi hatake #kakashi x you #kakashi x reader #gn@reader #kakashi fluff

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 2 years

Note

Manifest anon here!!!

I just wondered what Kara would do if Lena and possibly Sam was on that plane and started seeing things you know the works but I mostly messaged cuz I couldn't seem to find anyone who watches it lol I just started season 3

Tbh it didn't resonate enough to consider a supercorp au for it. But now that I think about it, it would be interesting to explore the relationship dynamics.

If Lena and Kara are college girlfriends, and Lena takes the flight that goes missing for five years... that's a long time. Enough time for Kara to grow and mature and move on, for the sake of her mental health than anything else. And she finds a modicum of happiness with Mike Matthews. Not happiness like she knew with Lena, but enough that he can make her smile and lifts her out of her depression a bit. But she never really forgets Lena.

And when they finally release the passengers to their families, Lena searches and searches for Kara. But it's not Kara who shows up for Lena, but Alex. And Alex tries to explain that Kara was swamped with work, but it's a thin excuse and they both know it. In the end it doesn't matter anyway because Lillian sends a driver for Lena, and Lena goes home to find out her father is dead and her brother has taken over the company but is... different. Noticeably so.

Eventually Kara is so guilt-ridden that she goes all the way back east to see Lena at the manor, and she apologizes, citing that it was just too hard to see her then. She'd been trying to process and-- "Lena, you don't understand. Losing you almost killed me."

And it's true-- Kara had become suicidal in the aftermath. And she'd been forced to let Lena go. To move on, if only to survive. Like Lena would have wanted. But Lena is so attuned to Kara, and smart enough to see the truth beneath the truth.

"What's their name?" Lena asks softly.

Kara slowly deflates. "Mike," she confesses.

In that moment, Lena knows she's lost Kara. Somehow, in the space of only days for her, Kara is happy and successful in her career and content in the arms of someone else. Anger and betrayal fills her, but Lena knows that Kara is not the target of her rage. The universe is, whatever cruel act of fate condemned Lena to this: seeing the love of her life with someone else, with no explanation and no closure of her own.

"You're right," Lena says finally. "I would have wanted you to be happy. I still do."

Kara nods, accepting the out Lena is offering her. But when she gets up to leave, Kara hesitates, giving Lena one last long look. The words on the tip of her tongue remain unsaid, but they hang palpably in the air regardless, so tangible that Lena can feel them against her skin.

I never stopped loving you.

#supercorp #manifest au

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jjkpls · 3 years

Text

the wishlist (m) - 4

“What does it mean if a guy talks about your nipples?”

> genre : smut, fluff

> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)

> total words : 4.7k

> content/warnings : back at it again w/ the bff2l; one sided love, lot of pining; sextoys talk; explicit language; ambiguous infidelity ; awkwardness

previous - next

The issue is that Jungkook -and you're not a bitch for thinking that- is a little bit of an idiot.

He can be very smart. He can be wise and present unsuspecting resources and knowledge. He can teach you things you don't know anything about, figure out others you struggle to -but not during stressful times like for say an escape game because during those, he turns absolutely, utterly useless.

But he is an idiot too. An idiot that sometimes shapes situations and conclusions and ideas in a very peculiar way that is very singular to him.

That’s precisely what happens then. He plays his role right, to its full extent, with great dedication and commitment. Except he missed a memo, misread the script and ends up playing a role that's not the one you planned for him. He believes that he’s your new adult toy provider (as if there is such a thing).

When you think he’s coming over to share a meal or play some game or binge-watch a series you promised to wait for him to experience together, he has a box hidden in his pocket or carried under his arm.

He has the decency to not comment on it the first time around. He just set it down on the coffee table, between the bowl of chips and the one filled with guacamole. You see the logo on top of it. You recognize the design, reffined, minimalist with the pretty pastel matte colour.

He probably identifies the shame and the annoyance on your face, painting your cheeks and reshaping your eyebrows, and doesn’t say anything. Simply smiles to himself and starts talking about the series’ new episode that’s about to start.

It takes a lot of efforts, coming from you, to ignore the conspicuous object sitting just in front and in between you. But eventually, probably because more than a decade of friendship with this guy have grown impressive mind muscles on you, you manage to make abstraction of it.

It just stops existing for a while until he leaves and you’re curious to see what’s inside. And again you have the same old intentions as before. The same ones.

You won’t use it.

It’s curiosity. And it's fine for you to be curious because he’s the one buying it and gifting it to you. Why should you be blamed?

Freshly hopped in bed, just done reading the notice hanging over your face, you’re yawning and sending your eyebrows high in interest. Again you won’t use it but it sounds very interesting. That’s when you get a text from him.

Guk

So about the toy!

As if you were waiting for his explanation. As if the conversation got cut short and you were expecting him to pick it back up whenever possible.

You won’t entertain him.

You

I said not to buy me this.

Guk

You never said that! You said something about me being crazy but never about buying one again

Because you're mostly made of petty bitch material, you scroll higher quickly, wishing to find something, any text that would corroborate what you’re saying.

You don’t find anything though. Because you never actually told him to not buy you other toys by text, and now that you come to think of it, you probably never did out loud either because you didn’t fucking know that he would even consider doing so.

It’s not even Christmas anymore. It’s not your birthday. There’s even less of a valid reason for him to get you this therefore, of course, you did not explicitly warn him not to, you didn’t think it would be necessary.

You

It’s not even my fucking bday why???

Guk

I told you the lady at the shop

But who the hell is that lady?

Guk

She talked about a lot of products and they all seemed cool and because you liked the other one I thought I’d get you this one too

You

Jungkook

This simple response says a lot, you hope he can read between the pixels of his screen the desperation, the irritation, the frustration, the silent insults.

Guk

Listen it’s super cool it's supposed to mimic the touch of a finger

Jungkook then proceeds to explain to you how it works. The original idea being a system with a tiny ball rolling under a silicon skin, to place on your clitoris to have the illusion of a finger's touch. And it’s interesting and innovative surely and sounds intriguing as in, you wonder if it’s accurate, but you’re tired and it seems like you’re wading in some sort of swamp you can’t escape from. There’s a fire burning your skin from your cheeks to your chest. You’re both hating this conversation and unwilling to just draw a final period to it. This asshole.

You

I can read

Guk

So you opened it already??

There’s a bunch of excited emojis that follows his last message and fill up the empty space your lack of response leaves.

Why and how can he be so eager?

Here comes the delusional part of your brain. It’s a very wide, very deep hallway covered in bookshelves filled to the brim with stupid interpretations and beliefs and sometimes even memories you’ve shared with him. Often next to the laters are pinned an article from a teenage magazine or the jacket of a romance movie, specifically there to validate that yes, indeed, it must have meant something.

The door of that corridor just creaked opened. You can discern the sound, you can feel the particular atmosphere without even having to take a step through.

Is it really that normal to be so excited about that? For him? As a friend?

It’s the most frustrating part: you are friends. Friends who supposedly can tell each other everything. Friends who can ask each other anything.

You should be able to talk about it. Just ask him. If there’s anything behind this whole mess, if he means to tell you something, if it’s wholly mindless, if there’s no hidden agenda.

It should be fine. There’s only trust and affection in this friendship.

You are still too scared, you are terrified that he’d start linking dots, ask himself some new questions, potentially answer them himself, and have you all found out.

You'd have your barely well-worn cover thrown completely away.

You send the blank emoji. The one with even the eyes closed. It summarizes your actual state pretty well, speechless, relatively annoyed.

Guk

She said you could try it on other parts of your body too

Guk

At first

Guk

Like on your lips or your nipples

You want to die.

Now.

No, better, you wish to have never been born.

Why is he talking about your nipples? Why?

And through all that, you still feel like something is wrong with you, along with your feelings.

Turns out you are so overwhelmed by his clueless inadequacy, you need a good half an hour and a random shot of tequila to get through it. When it’s gone and exhaustion of a long day and alcohol have knocked nervousness and panic out, you fall asleep, forgetting about answering his outrageous last texts.

“What does it mean if a guy talks about your nipples?”

Min's finger stops midair, above the cash register she's been working on. She needs a good minute to get back to her senses and while you wait, anxiety invades you. Maybe you should never have brought it up.

But this question, the torturous thing is slowly killing you.

Min finally turns her head to you, eyes squinted and eyebrows drawn low. She sucks in her pretty red lips before opening them to start formulating, with it seems a certain struggle, an answer.

“I don’t think I quite understand.”

It’s a pretty straightforward, relatively easy question. That’s what you'd want to say but you’ve reached the state of bashful regret and decide not to press it. Some things are better just left alone.

“Who talked about your nipples?” She ends up asking the one thing you wished she wouldn’t because there is no way you’re giving his name.

“Doesn’t matter.” You mumble, turning around slightly, getting back to the task you were here, paid, to do -wipe the shelves clean and not talk about your “““love””” life.

“I think it does. You wanna know if it means something? Like the guy's into you?”

“Something like that.” Your cheeks are aflame now. No doubt about it. You silently curse at your manager who refuses that you don’t wear the ugly hat that holds your hair back because having a curtain of hair to hold behind, as a help to keep some of your remained, sparse dignity would have been peachy.

“What did he say exactly?”

Silence. You’re not elaborating. She sighs, defeated.

“Well, I suppose... he’s considered the fact that you have boobs. If it’s a straight guy, that’s a good sign, I guess?” She shrugs.

You don’t like the answer. It’s exactly what the wrong, defective part of your brain, the one directly wired to your heart, wanted to hear.

She doesn’t even have the context, anyway. It doesn’t mean much, doesn’t hold much power in your court of sensibility.

She stares at the side of your face, clearly attempting to drill holes in your head to try and find some answers. You’re awfully silent, have said too much yet not enough and she’s dying to know the whole story. You won’t give in and she can tell. There’s no way you’re sharing the whole thing. The most, probably, probative point of the whole story: the sex toys. It’d turn her into a devastating tsunami of nonsense and misinterpretation and drown you in its wake and you can’t, when you’re already struggling to stay afloat, allow that.

Tag list: @fangirls94 @realswimshaddy @safi4x @pnkd @somewhereinthestarss @kpopfandomftw @kai-kai-bookshelf @pasteljoonie @ggukkieland

A/N: Don’t forget to click on the next button on top, two parts are being posted simultaneously :)

#btswriterscollective #networkbangtan #ggukienet #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #my writing

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