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theysaidhush · 3 months

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Omgg I rlly love your content!! Can you write dark non con with txt or enha?? I'd love to see it!! Love ya

Heeseung who's obsessed with his fan ? Yeah.

Yeah. I think y'all don't understand how obsessed I am with exploring sick people's mind. Like they get it all twisted and I'm here to write THAT.

TW: 🕊 Dead Dove Do Not Eat 🕊 (non-con groping, non-con pictures ?, non-con everything) / Yandere behavior

Heesung's at the top of the world. Not really, he wishes he was, but he will be, soon. At first, it was just a joke between the two of you. When you came to a fan sign of his group, your album in your hand, waiting in line for your turn. You weren't wearing revealing or expensive clothes, no overuse of make up was concealing your natural facial features and, from the way he saw you interact with his members, you weren't the kind of fan who knew everything about their life. It was refreshing to meet a not-so-much fan.

And then, you sat in front of him, eyes shining with expectation. You were grateful for being able to be at that fan sign, he could tell; you did not take things for granted.

"Hi!"

"Hey Engene..." he couldn't help himself but smile softly and hold is hand out towards you, like he did with so many fans before. It was insignificant, really, just a hand shake with another fan, one that he would have forgotten after a not so good night of sleep.

And if you knew that smiling awkwardly and tucking your hands on your laps would have brought you into this mess, you would have even kiss his hand if it was what he wanted at that moment.

But Heeseung, on the other hand, was shocked. Like damn, he is Lee Heeseung, from the rising group Enhypen, the older, the ace. And yet, you rejected him, refused to take his hand like he was some weirdo in the metro late at night who sneezed in his palm. Would you have hold Niki's hand, or Sunoo's hand ? What was so disturbing about him that would prevent you from allowing him to get to stroke your skin? It was a terrible feeling, jealousy, self-consciousness, who soon shifted into an obsession. He would do whatever it takes to get to hold your hand. But you didn't even think that this kind of thought would cross his mind, your idol's mind. So yeah, you came back home like you would any others days, did what you usually do and went to sleep, totally unaware that your idol was fucking his way (literally) into your data - is that even a thing ?

"Please... Please let me go..."

The way you were begging was so sweet. Teary eyes looking up at him, fists clenched by your sides because you knew damn well that you couldn't do anything, not out here, in front of everyone. And Heeseung knew it. He could have cornered you in front of your precarious apartment building because he knew that none of your weird neighbors would care about what happens to you. It wasn't memorable, just a bit frightening. So he cornered you at your workplace, put you in a situation that would get you fired if anyone stumbled across the both of you.

But you were so pretty, on your knees, before him, trying to get him to leave.

"Why would I do that? We have unfinished business."

Unfinished business. That's how he referred to that day. The day you knew you were trapped like a butterfly in a spider web. The day he shamelessly pushed himself against you, humped you, dirtied your body and soul as his hands were carelessly roaming your body, stroking your core and groping your breasts in a corner of a metro full of people. No one looked twice nor questioned why your eyes were watery and your hands shaking. Heeseung told you that your face was red, that they knew that you were just two lovers being touchy in the late of the night and that you were quite enjoying it. But you were just embarrassed, disgusted, and couldn't do anything about that, not when he was threatening you with pictures of your half-naked body in the warmth and comfort of your apartment. He was sick.

But he did not think that he was sick. He just thought that he was...in love. That each of his doing was a proof of it. He was spending his free time with you when he was not playing idol in front of the cameras! You should be grateful for it, instead of whining and whimpering, pretending to chock on his dick as he was forcefully pushing it deep in your throat. You were always so dramatic, so ungrateful, spitting his hot seed out of your mouth, a babbling mess of semen spit and tears. But he was willing to stay by your side, he loves you the way you are, ain't gonna chance you for a billion. Because he likes the way your inside clench around his cock out of fear because you like what he's giving you. He loves the view when he eventually gets to bend you over and fuck you like he planned on doing for weeks. Smile for the camera ♡

#enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #heeseung hard hours #heeseung smut #lee heesung x reader #dead dove do not eat

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impactedfates · 6 months

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Hello it's me so I decided to change up my idea a little. So here's what I thought, the reader is a quiet, humble and kind person and is engaged to Dan Heng but the readers evil mother and sister along with their neglectful father decided to kidnap them and try to force them to leave Dan Heng but they refused because Dan Heng made them feel like they actually belonged somewhere and they also knew that Dan Heng would save them. This all occurred not long after Dan Heng went to the readers family home with March and Caelus after he officially became engaged to the reader, The reason the three of them were even there was because Dan Heng wanted them to sincerely apologize for all the pain and suffering they put his fiance through. (This was inspired by the Netflix anime My Happy Marriage and I wish you a good morning/afternoon or goodnight)

★ A/N: Finally got to this request! My apologies for taking so long to start this, I hope you enjoy it :D

☆ Genre/Trope: Romantic + Hurt/Comfort (?)

★ Format: Fic (W.C: 1594)

☆ Warnings: Reader is kidnapped // Implied abuse from readers family // (Any I missed, please inform me)

★ Extra: I don't know much about My Happy Marriage but I hope this was written well even so // Reader is shorter then Dan Heng, only slightly though // Modern-ish AU? // Characters in this are probably OOC, I'm sorry

"I Belong With You" - Dan Heng x GN! Reader

“Your family is so stuck up!”

March complained, crossing her arms as she arrived home with you, Dan Heng and Caelus. Caelus patted her back but it was clear with his expression he wasn’t happy how the meeting with your parents turned out. You rubbed your arms a bit, looking down.

“I’m sor-”

“It’s not your fault”

Your fiance, Dan Heng quickly said, looking at you softly. Holding onto your hand gently and rubbing his thumb along your fingers, he pulled you a bit closer. Trying his best to reassure you as March and Caelus went into the kitchen to prepare some dinner as no one really ate when they were visiting your old childhood home.

“It won’t ever be your fault for how your parents were acting today and how they were acting when you were younger. If your family refused to apologise for what they did no matter what I, March or Caelus said. Then that’s on them. Never blame yourself for the actions of someone else”

Dan Heng said softly into your ear, gently rubbing the back of your head. Although he may not be the best at comforting someone, you can tell he always tries his best. And his words did make you feel better, snuggling into him more, he planted a small kiss to your forehead.

It was Dan Hengs idea to head over with you. You had gotten a letter from your parents requesting you to come over. You could only guess it was because your sister had found out about your engagement with Dan Heng. Whatever the reason, you went to visit, and your fiance was insistent on coming with you. You never went into great detail about how your parents were like or how you were treated. How neglectful your father was and the pain you suffered due to your mother and your sister.

Dan Heng never pried, even when your family acted so sweet and kind when you arrived with your fiance and 2 of your friends. But he couldn’t ignore what he heard or witnessed when your mother requested to talk to you in private, how your sister was quick to follow and the uneasy look you had. He had to check, and hearing the harsh things they told you didn’t make him happy.

He had to tell March and Caelus, which resulted in an argument. While Dan Heng tried to be calmer, trying to explain how their actions weren’t right. And with March and Caelus helping, it made your parents and sister extremely defensive. At the end of it, March had stormed out as it was clear to her that your family wasn’t going to listen. Caelus quickly followed suit and it left you and Dan Heng staring at your parents. Eventually the two of you also left, leaving the unfinished dinner on the table to grow even colder than the atmosphere that had been created.

You listened to the bickering of the pink haired girl and the grey haired man as they attempted to cook your favourite meal to make you feel better, and the soothing voice of your partner. When it was time to finally eat, you were quick to check your phone which had been on silent. You’ve received dozens upon dozens of messages and missed calls from each individual of your family. With a shaky hand you were quick enough to block them. It was better to not think of them when all they did was cause pain to you anyways. Besides, you belong with the express family now. No need to see your family again.

But perhaps your parents didn’t agree with that. At night, you lay awake as Dan Heng was fast asleep beside you on your shared bed. Still your mind was spiralling in what had happened. Getting up, you decide to get a cup of water and take a walk outside, leaving a note about your where-a-bouts unsure when you’d be able to clear your head.

You weren’t even sure how long you’ve been walking, but eventually something hard had hit the back of your head and you blacked out. Only waking up when a bright light flashed into your eyes, and once your eyes adjusted they grew wide as you saw your sisters grin.

“Finally sleeping beauty…if you even fit that description”

She giggled, quickly motioning for someone to come over, your mother slowly walked into your perspective looking at you. Still with no care or love in her eyes as she stared into yours.

“The ropes might be tight, but it’s a must. Knowing you, you’d be trying to run and scream in hysterics. You really shouldn’t be hanging out with those people sweetheart”

It was only then that you realised the ropes tying your hands behind your back. Attaching you to a pole. You recognized the area as the basement that you grew all too familiar with as a child. You moved back the best you could with them, when the last statement your mother said really registered into your head.

“...What’s that meant to mean?”

“March 7th, she’s way too loud. That Caelus is too dirty, has anyone taught him manners? Don’t get me started on your so called fia-”

“Don’t insult them like that”

You defended quickly, looking at her. Your sister eyed you and rolled her eyes, crossing her arms as she took the spotlight, speaking up.

“Mothers right. He’s strange in his own right…somehow he still deserves better then you though”

She laughed, as your mother laughed alongside the “joke” she made. You quickly shook your head. Looking at them. You were not about to lose someone that actually makes you feel loved, cared for, the one you belonged to. The one you should be with.

“I’m not leaving him”

You muttered out, loud enough for the two of them to turn their heads and look at you. Your mother narrowing her eyes as she walked over, you looked away and quickly repeated yourself, but it seemed like your mother didn’t care. Not like you expected her too. The two of them continued trying to convince you to break the marriage off with Dan Heng. It started off with simple sentences to make you feel worse about yourself, to make it feel like you didn’t deserve Dan Heng. But the more you refused to listen, the more they started to get more violent in their words.

Until your father came downstairs, spotting you he could only glance at you for a second before telling the girls that dinner was ready. He didn’t bother sparing you another glance as he walked back upstairs.

“Where is my fiance.”

Dan Heng demanded, looking at your father. If looks could kill, Caelus would bet that your father would’ve dropped dead by now. He looked back at the man as he continued trying to deny your whereabouts. March was quick to speak up.

“Oh stop your yapping, we know YOU know where they went. So tell us now”

“Maybe they realised they didn’t deserve you and left”

The sister called, popping her head out from behind the older man. She had a shit-eating grin as she looked at the three annoyed trailblazers. Caelus rolled his eyes at the girl's attempt to “sweeten” the mood if you could even call it that and continued looking intently at the father.

“They left a note saying they were on a walk, and now they’re not back. It’s been hours. And I know you had something to do with it”

Dan Heng said, his patience wearing thin as your father tried to dismiss him once again. The vidyadhara took a deep breath in and out before, without another word. Shoving past the father and was quick to attempt to look for you. March in a panic, not expecting what had happened to happen, was quick to jump on the sister and hold her on the ground as Caelus decided to do the same with the father.

“Darling?”

He called out, hoping you were near enough to hear him, and eventually he heard a voice from behind one of the doors. A voice that belonged to you. He was quick to rush in and find you tied up. You looked at him and tried your best to get closer despite your restraints, he was quick to rush over and help free your arms. Once checking you were okay. You hugged him tightly. Softly crying into his shoulder as he held you close.

The events that transpired after? Your mother had heard the commotion and went to call the police for a breaking in and entering crime, but when they arrived and got statements, they checked cameras. They were quick to arrest your family instead. This didn’t mean your friends were exactly safe from punishment as they did break in, but it did mean they got a light punishment as they did it for good reason.

Still, even after all that. Dan Hengs main concern was you, rightfully so as well. Even if it were for only just a day you were gone. He couldn’t bear to see you hurt or gone. Laying in bed, he had his arms wrapped around you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear after you explained what happened, your side personally.

Soon enough, his voice was enough to lure you into sleep, and as the land of dreams was slowly arriving, you heard Dan Heng say one last thing.

“I’ll always be with you, and I’ll always protect you.

Because I belong with you”

I'm not too happy with how this one turned out but I hope this was enjoyable sob. I wasn't sure if what I written would fit in the HSR timeline or is more modern AU. Hence, "Modern-ish" if you have a better word then feel free to tell me so I can put it in ^^

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #Dan Heng #HSR Dan Heng #Dan Heng x You #Dan Heng x Reader #HSR Dan Heng x You #HSR Dan Heng x Reader #🎭 masked fools

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ariqxwz · 1 month

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𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦

Pairing: Christopher Sturniolo x fem!reader

Summary: Your boyfriend rents a hotel room, and you spend the night there.

Warning: oral sex (fem receiving), face riding, praises, princess treatment, unprotected sex, doggy style.

We had just left Tara's party and were now heading to a hotel Christopher had rented not far from here.

His hand glided effortlessly over the steering wheel while his gaze remained fixed on the road.

I clenched my thighs and looked ahead again. Christopher seemed to notice and gave me a quick glance before placing his hand on my thigh and stroking it gently.

"We'll be at the hotel shortly" he said softly.

I nodded, but doubted he saw it.

Minutes later, we arrived at the hotel and went up to our room, a luxury suite.

I closed the door behind me and entered. I surveyed the room carefully; it had large windows overlooking the city, a beautiful view.

I watched as my boyfriend tossed his suit jacket aside and unbuttoned his cufflinks.

I bit my lip as his shirt fell to the floor and looked away, feeling my cheeks flush.

"Do you like what you see?" Christopher asked, approaching me.

I looked back at him and nodded.

"I'm glad, because I like what I see too," he said, giving me a playful smile as he looked me up and down.

When his gaze returned to my face, he leaned in, pressing me against the nearest wall and grabbed my wrists, placing them above my head, leaving me totally vulnerable to him.

"I've been waiting all night for this" he said before attacking my neck.

I tilted my head, granting him more access, and closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation of his lips against my skin.

He released my wrists and trailed his hands down my body, leading me to the bed as he moved.

When he reached the edge, he sat down and looked up at me.

"Ride my face, princess, please" he requested.

A shiver ran down my spine at his words, but I didn't refuse.

Since I was wearing a dress, I simply took off my panties and tossed them somewhere in the room.

Christopher leaned his body back, his back hitting the mattress.

I straddled him, positioning myself over his face.

He placed his hands on my hips, lifting my dress slightly as he looked at me, as if admiring.

After a few seconds, he flattened his tongue and ran it through my wetness.

"All wet for me" he growled and attacked again.

My hands went down to his hair, gripping it tightly as my hips moved.

Waves of pleasure flooded my body, until I started to feel that swirl in my stomach.

My hips began to move faster, unconsciously smothering my boyfriend, but he didn't complain.

"Christopher!" I moaned one last time before the swirl washed over me.

I lifted my body and sat beside his head.

He sat up and looked at me with a smile, his lips stained with my fluids.

I got up from the bed and went to the bathroom to clean up. I stood in front of the mirror as I grabbed a towel.

Christopher appeared behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, pressing my body against his.

"We're not done yet, princess" he said before pushing me against the sink and lifting my dress.

I could see through the mirror as he unfastened his belt.

I closed my eyes, waiting for him to be ready, but when I heard the sound of his pants falling to the floor, I opened them again.

He pushed his hips against mine and started moving them quickly.

The bathroom was filled with moans and groans from both of us. I doubt the person in the next room would be sleeping tonight.

"Open your eyes" he grabbed me by the hair and lifted my head.

I opened my eyes again, as he instructed.

"Look at yourself in the mirror" he growled, "see how beautiful you look while I fuck you from behind."

I bit my lower lip and rolled my eyes back into my head.

"You're doing so well, princess."

His breath quickened as he moved.

"I'm about to cum, let me cum" I pleaded, looking at him through the mirror.

"I've never left you unfinished, why would you think I would now?" It was all he said.

Christopher groaned when he felt my walls tightening around him, he knew what it meant.

"Cum all over my cock, come on princess, you can do it."

Those words pushed me over the edge.

I rested my forehead on the sink, breathing heavily.

Christopher gave a few more thrusts and pulled out of me. I didn't move, I knew what he was doing.

I lifted my head and looked at my boyfriend through the mirror. He had his eyes closed and his head thrown back.

Not long after, I could feel a liquid on my butt.

"You did it perfectly, princess" he slapped my butt and left the bathroom.

I followed him and collapsed onto the bed, exhausted.

"Do you want me to give you a massage, my love?" I grunted in response.

I could almost see Christopher's smile.

“We should come to hotels more often” he said playfully, positioning his hands on my back.

#Spotify #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #chris x reader

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bubuslutty · 1 year

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Day 3: Cat Crisis

this is part 3, all parts

pairing: demon/angel!fem reader x 141

word count: 2.5k

tags: a bit of lusting cuz my boys r hot, naughty moments but nothing nsfw, proofread by me so sorry for any mistakes

warnings: smoking

summary: Kuromi gets stuck on a tree, Angel almost has a heart attack and she finally meets Simon, properly.

a/n: this is just fun and silly really. I hope u enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it 💖 ALSO!! VERY IMPORTANT!! I can't seem to be able to tag some of you, even if the username is correct, so please check your settings.

Angel has to admit, she likes this assignment quite a lot. It was fun, living in a nice house in a quiet neighbourhood, with interesting and fascinating neighbours. At least, the ones that live to her left because her neighbours to her right are an old couple who barely make any noise, you'd think nobody even lives in their house.

That trip to Tesco was more fun than she expected. Turns out that Johnny was funnier than she imagined, nothing in his file could have prepared her for Soap's colourful character and hilarious jokes. And Kyle was as charming and intelligent and quick to joke as she'd imagined.

And Price was calm and collected, making sure that the two men didn't get in trouble in the store. But it didn't make hanging out with him any less fun, oh he was plenty fun, Angel knows it, and can practically taste it. It's just going to take a bit of work to make him open up. Angel can't wait to start working with him.

About the actual shopping, the men proved themselves useful and very helpful. Angel was grateful for this because buying food and cooking was a bit of a hassle and she gets overwhelmed with the stupid amount of choices for the same fucking thing. They recommended certain snacks, drinks, food combos, and things easy and quick to cook, and even helped her pick out the freshest fruits and vegetables. Eating was hard, Angel has no idea how humans do it every day.

When they paid for everything, Angel was pleased and surprised when Price went ahead and grabbed her shopping for her without saying anything. She told him he didn't have to, that she could carry her things by herself with no problem, but he claimed it was the least a gentleman could do.

No matter what Angel told him, he refused to give them to her until they reached the car and he told her to dig inside his pocket to unlock the car and open the trunk. "Your Captain is so stubborn," Angel complained to the other two men, with a pout on her face.

"Tell me about it." Gaz sighed, making her giggle in disbelief.

Now she was happily suckling on an orange-flavoured popsicle, sitting on her dining table, facing the garden's opened door. She was enjoying the sunlight and breeze on her skin when a very loud scream startled her. Angel nearly dropped her popsicle when her eyes zeroed on the big tree at the back of her garden, and Kuromi right at the top, screaming for help.

Angel gasped in horror, throwing her unfinished popsicle in the trash and running outside her garden, barefoot. Angel has no idea if her cat has the same sort of abilities as she does. She is immortal, that she’s sure of, but whether Kuromi can get hurt or not is a mystery to Angel. And she doesn't feel like testing that theory today at all.

"Kuromi! How did you get up there?!" Angel was actually panicking, as she looked at the many branches the tree had and just how high her stupid cat decided to climb. How the hell is she supposed to get her cat down without using her powers to do something so ridiculous that the Wish Office will phone her, and ask if she's out of her mind?

"Kuromi, you stupid fucking idiot, you'll die!" Angel was now on the verge of tears. She loved her stupid cat to death, and would rather die instead of watching her kitty get hurt. Angel approached the tree, squinting her eyes and looking up at the branches and thick leaves, seeing if she could climb up.

Angel was so preoccupied with trying to figure out how to save her cat, that she didn't notice Ghost smoking while leaning against the door that separates their kitchen and garden. He had a plain grey zip-up hoodie, a pair of loose black sweats and his skull mask on, hunched up on his nose bridge, keeping his lower face out so he could easily smoke.

He silently watched Angel argue with her cat. He knows a bit about his neighbour from Soap and Gaz, and he has to admit, not only she's pretty but intelligent. Even though his guys seemed to like her, Ghost doesn't easily trust people and she's no exception. He kept watching her struggle, on the verge of tears, until he decided to put his cigarette out.

Ghost silently walked down their garden while lowering his mask back down. It was so stupid how low the fence was. It just reached his waist and it would be so easy for him to jump into her garden. And that's exactly what he did, jumping over the fence with one hand on it for support.

Angel slightly jumped when he stood next to her. She didn't hear him come over, and she just stared up at the man with panicked eyes. She knew he was Simon, the pretty blue eyes were the same along with the pale eyelashes.

Simon was not even looking at her, he was looking up at the tree where Kuromi was. Angel took the opportunity to really look at him. He was absolutely fucking huge, for no reason at all. And he had sleeve tattoos on his veiny arms, Angel thanked fate that Simon decided to roll up his sleeves because his tattoos are beautiful. And what's even prettier, is the skin of his neck and collarbone. He wasn't wearing anything underneath the zip-up hoodie and Angel felt her mouth water.

Simon finally looked down at her, and Angel immediately opened her mouth to speak, "Do you think you can help me get Kuromi down, please?"

Simon gazed down at her hopeful eyes, and simply nodded, "Stand back."

Angel nodded, "Thank you so much!"

She stepped away and watched the man get closer to the tree. "Be careful!" Angel said, her hands clasped against her chest, watching Simon work his way up the tree quickly.

"Kuromi, you hurt him and I'll fist-fight you!" Angel shouted at her cat, who hissed back down at her owner.

Simon couldn't help but chuckle at the woman's antics and when he knew if he climbed any higher, no branch would support his weight, he broke one with his bare hand and used it as a makeshift ladder for the cat. He stretched his body as much as he could, "Come on, kitty, get over here." Simon crooned.

To his utter surprise, the cat listened and started slowly scooting over towards him on a shaky branch. Kuromi successfully reached Simon's branch and held onto it very tightly and Simon gently lowered the cat down towards him. As soon as she was easily reachable, he grabbed the cat by the scruff of her neck and hugged her to his chest with one hand.

"Alright, now how can I get down with you?..." Simon mumbled and hummed when he got an idea. He hugged the cat with one arm and used the other to zip off his hoodie, using his thick thighs for support so he wouldn't fall.

Angel watched with awe how Simon managed to completely take off his zip-up hoodie, leaving his glorious amazing upper half naked, and bundled up Kuromi in the hoodie. Simon glanced down at Angel and smirked under his mask, "Catch!"

Angel literally screamed and he laughed, almost tearing up. "You dickhead!" Angel shouted, ripping grass from the ground out of anger and throwing it towards his direction.

Simon made a makeshift fanny pack using the hoodie's sleeves, securing Kuromi against his chest while he carefully climbed down. When he wasn't too far from the ground, he decided to jump off and roll to safety, with the cat still clutched against his chest.

Angel almost fainted and immediately ran to Simon as he stood up, dusting off his knees. "My baby!" She cried, grabbing her cat from the hoodie and kissing the kitty over and over on her small face.

Simon watched the woman with amusement as she checked over her cat and finally looked at Simon, her cat still in his arms. "Thank you so much for saving the life of my dumbass cat. But if you scare me like that again, I will make you regret it." She said, pressing a finger to Simon's naked chest.

He glanced down at her finger and met her eyes cooly, "You're welcome."

"You actually scared me so much, probably even more than Kuromi did!" Angel sighed, nuzzling her face in her cat's fur. Now Simon actually feels a bit guilty for scaring her and scratched the back of his neck.

"Do you want a cup of coffee?" He offered.

Angel lifted her head, surprised, "Cup of coffee?"

"To apologise."

Angel blinked at the man and cracked a small smile, "I think I'd like that."

Simon gave her an awkward nod and jumped over the fence and turned to her, hoodie held in his hand. "Come on."

Angel looked at the fence and then at her cat still in her arms, "Uhm, okay, hold Kuromi for me."

She walked closer to the fence, holding Kuromi so Simon could grab her. But Simon dodged the cat and held her by the armpits, just like she was holding her cat and easily lifted her over the fence. Angel squealed and wrapped her legs around his waist and wrapped one arm around his neck while the other was holding Kuromi against her chest.

Simon froze, his hands hovering over her back.

"What are you guys doing?"

Angel and Simon whipped their heads towards the voice and saw Soap holding a basket full of clean laundry, ready to hang it outside to dry while Gaz held a smaller basket of colourful pegs.

"Uhm, nothing!" Angel let out a nervous laugh and jumped off Simon, rushing inside their home with her cat in her arms.

Soap and Gaz glanced at each other and then back at Simon, "Why are you shirtless?" Gaz asked.

"Had to use my hoodie for the cat." Was Simon's dry answer and he walked inside, leaving Soap and Gaz with even more questions.

He found Angel awkwardly standing in the middle of their kitchen, and noticed that she was barefoot. "Wait here." He said and left the kitchen.

Angel took the opportunity to look around the kitchen. It was tidy and didn't have any plants or any sort of decoration. The fridge did have some menus and coupon codes for Domino's on it. However, next to the kettle, there was an impressive coffee machine, the sort that's expensive with many settings, fancy buttons and cool gadgets.

Angel barely drinks coffee, almost never, but now she was excited to see Simon work the cool machine.

She heard footsteps and turned around. Ghost was back and dressed in a t-shirt now, he also had a pair of slippers in his hands. "Wear these." He placed the pair next to her feet and Angel did as he said, heart fluttering in her chest, how silly.

"What would you like?" He asked, turning around and washing his hands in the sink.

"What?" Angel said, staring at his ass, completely distracted.

"Coffee. What sort of coffee would you like?" He turned back around, just as Angel ripped her eyes from his ass.

"Uhm," Angel gulped, she had no idea if he caught her staring or not but she wanted to scream either way. "I don't drink coffee that much, so make me something sweet, please."

Ghost stared at her silently, which made Angel nervous. Did she say something weird?

"What's wrong?"

Simon shrugged, "Nothing." and went straight to work, preparing mugs and pressing this button and that button on the coffee machine.

Both Angel and Kuromi were intensely staring at the beeping sleek machine and Simon smiled when he noticed. "What does Kuromi mean?"

"The name itself or who is she named after?" Angel ripped her eyes away from the coffee machine and looked over at Simon.

"Both."

Angel smiled, "Well, according to Google, Kuromi in Japanese means 'black beauty', but I've named her after a cartoon character whose name is Kuromi. Actually, Let me show you."

Simon glanced at the woman as she dug her hand in her pocket and retrieved her phone, opening google."That's Kuromi," Angel said, making Simon lean closer so he can see better.

"What type of creature is that?" Simon asked, squinting his eyes and trying to guess what type of animal the character was.

"It's actually a white bunny wearing a black jester hat! See! It even has a little pink skull! And instead of having a fluffy tail, she has a devil's tail, isn't she cute?" Angel said, Simon looked at her then back down at the cat in his arms.

"But your cat isn't a rabbit." Simon said.

"I know! But look! She's white with black ears! And a black tail! And she's mischievous just like Kuromi! And I gave her a pink collar with a pink skull!" Angel said, practically vibrating next to Simon, eyes big and literally glowing.

Simon tilted his head down and lifted the kitty's chin up, seeing the shiny skull dangling off the collar. He turned the skull over, reading Angel's full name and phone number.

"I can see the similarities." Simon hummed, giving the cat scratches, making her purr.

"There's another similarity, actually." Angel grinned.

"Really?" Simon said, still scratching the cat.

"Between Kuromi and you!" Angel said, and Simon lifted his head, meeting her eyes, he raised a brow, prompting her to spit it out.

"The skulls, silly!" Angel giggled.

Oh, yeah. The skulls.

Simon unconsciously reached for his mask but stopped his hand before it caressed the hand painted skull. The machine beeped and Simon removed the mug from under the machine, opening the cupboards to get sugar.

"Can we join you for a cup of coffee?" Soap suddenly asked, entering the kitchen, followed by Gaz.

"Of course, this is your house." Angel smiled and Gaz immediately ran to the cat in her arms, cooing and petting the little thing.

"And you have to tell us how you ended up on him while he was shirtless, which he wasn't, earlier in the day." Soap said while getting snacks.

"Okay, and did you know that your friend Simon is actually an evil little shit?" Angel said, as if it was the most shocking thing ever while she sat down at the table next to Gaz, who was holding her cat in his arms.

"Ghost, call me Ghost." Simon quickly corrected her.

"Ghost actually scared the shit out of me, I thought I was going to die!" Angel continued without missing a beat.

"You thought you were going to die? What the hell happened while I was in the shower?" Price said, walking inside the kitchen, wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of shorts, hair still wet.

"Oh my days, John, sit down and let me tell you what he did!" Angel groaned, patting the other seat next to her.

"Well, alright then." John shrugged and sat down.

Simon sighed, placing her mug down and getting more mugs out to make coffee for everyone, "Fucking hell…"

tag list (pls ask to be added or removed): @obiwankenobis-lap @goapgrim @smalldemonlover @loveyhoneydovey @cutiecusp @pinkwigonmytv @mandythemint @itsberrydreemurstuff @tapioca-marzipan @fruitymoonbeams-blog @poohkie90 @chaoticevilbakugo @anubis-reed @thefairybird @skytacvia @marytvirgin @cynicalmnm @maechanexe @t0jis-worm @1800imgay @4ndjelij4 @multitargaryen @lilpothoscuttings @mysticalpandabear

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mlmxreader · 8 months

Text

Mutual Protection | Eddie Brock x gn!reader

anonymous asked: Eddie Brock:

Hiya!! It's me again!

May I please ask for a work using the following prompts for Eddie Brock X non-binary, male, or gn!Reader:

“Oi! Calm it, he ain’t worth the shit you’ll get into for knocking his teeth out”

(Reader gets super protective of Eddie?? Like Eddie tries to protect reader at first and they're like "leave it" until they say sit about Eddie??)

summary: when your ex tries to start drama, you and Eddie immediately have each other's backs with no questions asked.

tws: swearing, mild violence

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

Gently, you placed your hand on Eddie's shoulder and tried to coax him backwards despite the fact that he was massively struggling against you; at the best of times, Eddie's protective and possessive streak could be charming and endearing. At the worst of times, it could make him dangerous, wild and harsh.

So when he caught Logan flirting with you far, far too much for his liking, he couldn't help but to step in; Eddie never liked Logan, liked him even less when he caught him talking to his partner in a manner he didn't like.

You and Logan had unfinished business, a relationship that had been broken off when he decided that he would fuck off to the middle of nowhere and not even bother to tell you why; you never forgave him.

Eddie never forgave him.

Eddie could still remember the nights you had spent crying into your pillows in the shared flat, he could still remember practically having to force feed you when you refused to eat for too long for it to just be a little bit of appetite loss. Above all else, Eddie could still remember the dozens and dozens of times he had driven you to Xavier's school only for nothing.

Eddie never forgave Logan, and never would. Not for that. No.

"Oi! Calm it, he ain't worth the shit you'll get into for knocking his teeth out," you told him, gently pushing his shoulder.

"He shouldn't be here," Eddie growled. "He shouldn't be anywhere near you after what he did."

The second he laid eyes on Logan, you should have known Eddie would immediately get both protective and possessive, refusing to let Logan anywhere near you or even look at you; but it wasn't Eddie who threw the first punch.

Nor was it Eddie who made the first threat. But the second an adamantium boned fist made contact with Eddie's nose, you stepped in, forcing Eddie back.

"Get the fuck away from him," you hissed through gritted teeth, refusing to budge as you kept your eyes on Logan. Your gaze angry and wrathful. "Now, Logan."

"C'mon," he tutted, shaking his head as he took a step towards you. "He's a pipsqueak - you'd be better off with someone who can actually protect you."

You shook your head, taking a step towards him and easily staring him down. "Logan. Fuck off."

Eddie grabbed your shoulder, holding onto it tightly as he pulled you back slightly, his voice harsh but quiet. "Still think he's not worth the shit?"

You nodded, pushing him back slightly. "He isn't. But he insulted you, and that's different."

"You never defended me like that," Logan huffed. "What's so different about Pipsqueak here?"

"He loves me," you told him. "He loves me enough that he wouldn't fucking abandon me and fuck off to nowhere."

"I wouldn't abandon you, ever," Eddie added softly.

"I know, baby, that's the point," you muttered, shaking your head before you glared at Logan again. "You need to accept that I don't love you anymore. I don't care about you anymore. You left me, and you never told me why - but y'know who was there? When I needed somebody?"

"Pipsqueak," Logan guessed, raising an unimpressed brow.

"Stop fucking calling him that," you hissed, making a bold move and grabbing the Wolverine by the throat. You narrowed your eyes at him, almost snarling. "He is more of a fucking partner than you ever were, Logan. He's better than you."

Logan narrowed his eyes as he furrowed his brows. "So you're gonna take his side over mine?"

"Absolutely," you gave his throat a squeeze. "Always."

It took Eddie a moment to pull you off of Logan, holding you tightly against his chest as he glared at your ex; Logan didn't look too happy, dusting off his plaid shirt before he pulled out a cigar and lit it, shaking his head.

Eddie could have killed him for the look he gave you. He should have, too. But when you walked off in a huff, Eddie was hot on your heels until he caught up with you; he frowned as he sat cross legged beside you, leaning into your leg.

"You didn't have to protect me from him," he said softly. "I could've handled it."

"His bones are made of one of the strongest metals in the world," you pointed out. "He would've killed you. I had to protect you… he wouldn't hurt me."

"How'd you know?"

"Logan's… difficult," you explained, "he's a fucking cunt and a half, but there's certain people he won't hurt. Still a bastard though, and he should never have insulted you like that."

"It was pretty hot," Eddie mused with a soft laugh. "Seeing you square up to him like that and try to choke him."

You laughed for a second, nodding. "Now you know how I feel when you get all possessive."

He grinned, looking up at you and sighing heavily. "We'll always protect each other, won't we?"

You dropped your hand down, lacing it in his brown locks. "Always. I've got your back, you've got mine."

Eddie smiled, humming contently as he looked out at the darkening skies; he leaned in a little more when you sat next to him, pressing your body against his.

He wanted to put his arm around you, but he didn't quite find it in himself to be bothered; he knew you felt the same when he didn't feel the weight of your arm around his waist. Not being bothered to be physically affectionate never meant anything to either of you, not when you knew that you would always be there for one another.

He stretched his legs out, pleasantly surprised when you let your hand drop to the inside of his thigh, drawing a soft hum from the back of his throat as his hand found its way to yours. He laced your fingers together, holding on.

"Y'know, Eddie," you breathed out. "I think you're the best partner I could've ever asked for."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you nodded. "I do."

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hoothalcyon · 4 months

Text

Unfinished Ruthari mild spicy times ficlet

I've had this WIP for a few months, but I can't think of a single other place to take it, or if I even want to. however, I like what I have here, so I wanted to share it. feel free to leave comments in the replies if you'd like.

Tags: Husbands being husbands, flirting, writing about sex in an unmistakably asexual way, horn stimulation

Ethari slid off his shirt, his eyes roaming appreciatively as his husband did the same. Runaan laid against their bedsheets, flashing a smug expression upwards. Ethari took the bait and leaned down to press his lips against his, emboldened by the mirror reflection of a smile against his own. His hand slid downwards until his thumb pressed into the waistband of Runaan’s pants. Runaan made a needy sound against him, urging him to continue. He soon slid both his outer layer and underwear off all in one swift motion.

“You’re not wasting any time, are you?” Runaan laughed, bringing Ethari down for another kiss.

Ethari took the opportunity to sneak in a second peck. “And why should I?” He winked.

Runaan trailed a hand down his bare chest, making a sound of contented approval. “True. And now it’s your turn to disrobe.”

“Would you like to do it for me?”

Runaan propped his chin on his hand. “I want to watch.”

Ethari brightened. “Ah,” his stomach did somersaults. “Good, then,” he smiled. He fumbled out of his pants, feeling a rush of both relaxation and thrill as his skin met the air. Runaan did not hide the wandering of his eyes as he took a moment to appreciate every inch of his husband; nor did Ethari hide. Instead, he rolled over for another kiss.

“So, what did you want to do now?” Ethari asked.

Today was a day for intimacy, in whatever form it took. Nothing was too small or too uneventful to embrace.

“I want to put a butt plug in. The fox one.”

The somersaults grew flames which flickered curiously. “Would you like help with that?”

Runaan shook his head. “That’s alright. You can watch, though.”

“Now that’s an offer I can’t refuse,” he snarked. Runaan responded by pressing him further into the pillows, subtly telling him to get comfortable.

He then retrieved the butt plug and some lube, applying enough to ensure comfortable insertion. Spreading his legs, he took a breath, relaxing his muscles so the toy could slide in easily. Ethari watched in rapt amazement as the plug was lowered inside, opening him up beautifully. Runaan sighed, thoroughly enjoying the subtle feeling of being filled; the quiet intimacy of penetration without action.

“Good?” Ethari asked.

Runaan nodded, moving to rest his head on Ethari’s bare skin, sinking into the warmth he exuded. Wrapping his arm around him, he pressed a kiss to his throat. “Perfect.”

Ethari looked down at the long fluffy tail resting across the back of Runaan’s thighs and smiled. “It’s so cute,” he remarked. “I love it. You’re my sweet night fox.”

“Mmm? Sly and cunning, more like. Deadly,” he chided, directing his attention upwards as he nibbled Ethari wherever he could. Runaan shifted upwards until he was seated in Ethari’s lap, where he languidly slid his tail against his husband’s thighs. Ethari gasped, feeling the nerve endings in his skin awaken with eager desire. Runaan smirked.

“Truly a devil,” Ethari added.

Runaan hummed in pleased agreement before studying him further. A smile crept to his face as he noticed how Ethari’s eyes had fallen shut so he could enjoy each sensation for what they were. He slid his hands down, touching him along his chest and the ridges of his pecs. Ethari made a soft sound as Runaan’s fingers splayed across his skin, gently massaging him there.

“Mmm,” Ethari breathed, coils of arousal slowly winding themselves together in his belly. “That feels really nice.”

“Hmm?” Runaan hummed noncommittally. He channeled strength from his upper body, pressing into Ethari’s muscles more meaningfully. Ethari moaned beautifully in response.

“Ahhh! There, darling, that’s wonderful,” he said.

Runaan continued as asked. “Is it reliving any pain, relaxing, or sexy?”

Ethari laughed. “Second and last.”

“Ah. The best answers,” Runaan replied. With the knowledge of the seductive qualities his motions held, he grew more experimental with his caresses. He hummed a song under his breath as he drew circles around his husband’s chest, occasionally skimming over his taut nipples. Ethari reacted as Runaan had wished: a resounding gasp and an unmistakable shiver. Good.

“Your body is a sight to behold,” Runaan murmured, “and a treasure to touch. I feel very lucky to have you in this way.” He cupped a pec and squeezed it indulgently, his own heartbeat stammering at the delicious moan Ethari let out.

Ethari’s eyes opened with a start, amber glinting wildly. “Ru? I want to suck those horns off. C’mere.”

Runaan dipped his chin to show off what was desired. “Where would you like me?”

“Right here. Lean back,” he instructed, placing his hand on Runaan’s waist as he turned around. Runaan shimmied into place, fitting into the warmth below.

Leaning forward, Ethari ran his tongue along the underside of his horn. He traced every patterned whorl he could find, savouring the thick weight he was granted. Runaan shivered at the wet contact, carefully dipping his head back with a groan.

Ethari moaned, low and hungry in his ear. “Take off those cuffs for me. I give you my permission,” he added with a playful lilt.

A ricochet of easy laughter rang against his chest. “Well, if the very creator of them obliges, then I mustn’t disobey,” Runaan agreed.

Ethari nibbled his ear cheekily. “Mmm. Indeed—never disobey me,” he mused.

Runaan sat upwards, bowing his horns as he carefully took the precious cuffs off, placing them on the bedside table. He handled them with the utmost care, and nearly felt entirely naked without them.

Thankfully, Ethari soon filled them with sensation once more, touching and sucking them indulgently. As he closed his lips over the dull point of his left horn, he groped the right, caressing and winding his hand around its thick shaft. Runaan writhed with pleasure, equal parts aroused by the pleasing sensations and his husband’s deep devotion and appreciation. His horns, usually wielded as an intimidation tactic, were seen as many things by Ethari: endearing, precious, and delicious. The intricately designed horn cuffs were removed only for certain practices, whether they involved grooming or rituals such as this. Pure worship.

Ethari cupped a hand around the wide base of Runaan’s horn and squeezed, then pinched the winding spiral found higher up. Although he couldn’t come solely from these ministrations, Runaan enjoyed them nevertheless—especially when he felt teeth fit against ivory, igniting his senses. A whine hitched in his throat, lodging itself there as desire climbed through him. He was about to make a move when the contact had suddenly ceased, ending with a final kiss to the point of his horn.

He felt Ethari rubbing his shoulder dotingly. “My jaw is a little tired now. But I have another request, if you may.”

Runaan smiled then, and turned to press a consolatory kiss to his thoroughly worked jaw. He reached out, his fingers curving around the structure of bones hidden underneath and gently rubbed him there, easing away the dull pain. Ethari’s expression relaxed as he leaned into the soothing motion.

Runaan broke the silence. “Of course. What would you like?”

#runaan #ethari #ruthari

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theficblog · 2 years

Text

DAYDREAM

LEE JENO

Prologue: Dreams leave with you zero control, they can spoil your mood for the day, or make it better, you never know

Genre: Suggestive

Wordcount: 920

Warnings: Sexual Content [ make out + stripping + oral male and female receiving ]

A/N: wrote this spontaneously because i know we are not getting over nyfw jeno anytime soon

"No! Please don't go!" You moved your careless hands in the air, cursing and for a brief moment, it was an unexplainable feeling of dissatisfaction and impatience before it all faded away. A sudden white light peered through your eigengrau eyes.

The annoying sounds flooded inside your ears; they were slowly getting back to their senses.

Before you could even comprehend it, it was the morning, and the clock next to your bed signalled it was time for the dreams to end, and they did, abruptly.

"Can I please not get it done after one coffee?" You questioned in a daze, letting out a sigh after your plea was harshly refused. Yeah, Fashion Week was a big event, after all.

Patches of cloth, unfinished seams, appliques that were yet to be fastened, and silk that was waiting for its turn to get ironed. You were still unphased as if floating on waves that would take you somewhere you did not know. Boredom, exhaustion, frustration, it could be called any of them.

"Y/N, I need you to go and assist with the fittings. Right now. Rush!" Someone in a collared t-shirt and a walkie-talkie in hand clamoured. "Alright" you agreed as you dragged off your feet.

"Yeah, just make sure that collar stands straight, it's not be moved." You noted, fixing the garment on the model.

"Okay, next. Jeno Lee." Reading the name and scrapping it off from the clipboard, nonchalantly.

Nonchalantly only until you saw the beauty of the man that stood right before your eyes.

Tall, well built. His skin was glowing as it contrasted with the black fabric of his fit. Eyes that were sparkling, but no, it was not for the lenses. He looked exactly like the perfect icing on the cake, satisfying.

"Oh fuck!" You swore mentally.

All you had to do was simply tie the robe at the back and maybe it was all under control. Had you not seen that slit in his pants tracing itself all the way up from this ankle to the thigh, stopping just where it should have, it would have been a lot easier.

"Arms." You said in disbelief.

"Hmm?" The boy looked at you with confused eyes.

"I need you to raise your arms so that I can fix this."

"Oh of course." He smirked, never breaking the lock of his eyes.

It was pretty common for models to don the bare minimum and for designers to touch their flesh, but what was happening right now was something that was not meant to be happening.

"You think I could not tell?" Jeno whispered against your ear, gliding his hand through your jaw, staring deep into your soul.

"What do you mean?" You said, gripping him by the arms, the arms that you fancied hours ago.

"The way you just.." One of his hands lifted up your chin, the other running itself down and deeper. "You just could not help but stare at me, I thought you made it really obvious." He continued.

"I thought you made it obvious, who asked you to come and do your slutty little dance right next to me at the after-party?"

Jeno shut you up with a kiss. There was something about kissing a stranger that felt so right, yet so wrong.

You backed off. Glancing at the boy, again. He was a daydream.

"You don't wanna ruin these clothes, It's an expensive designer label." And that was enough for him to give one good lick to his lips and start unbuttoning his white shirt, the one with the grey and black gradient.

You decided to sit and enjoy the show, seating yourself on the edge of the bed, and rubbing your legs together. You knew you've wanted this for so long.

"The pants." You pointed out. "They're expensive too, aren't they, Jeno?"

He obeyed. Unbuckling, unzipping, and finally stepping out of his pants that only left him with his essentials, the concealing was light enough to tell you he was just as excited.

"Don't expect any more kisses on the lips if you stand in front of me like this."

Your eyes looked up to meet his, so filthy.

Jeno took your hands in his, placing them at the edge of the waistband of his innerwear and then leaving them to do whatever they wished, another look in his eyes and you could sense the tension, not wasting a second, you pulled them down, giving him just what he wanted. Pleasing him and earning endless moans from him, he breathed heavily, spitting out a few curses each time.

But Jeno was not selfish, he was just as eager to please. "Your clothes.." He hissed. "Aren't- aren't they expensive too?"

"You don't even have to stand, you can lay down and let me return you the favour." He suggested, and he did return more than just a favour. Filling that empty space in your gut, the one that had been hollowing you for long.

Your eyes opened again. The same sensations again, the same beige curtains being fluttered away by the winds as the sunlight escaped through the narrow windows.

Was this all a dream again?

The clothes on your bedroom floor suggested otherwise. But Jeno was nowhere to be seen, the bed was cold.

He had left.

The empty feeling returned, and this time it was your heart rather than your body, unless your gaze fell on a small piece of paper, crankled with black ink writings on it.

2304xxxx00 ~ jeno ;)

LET ME KNOW YOUR VIEWS + ALSO SEE : MASTERLIST

PLEASE REFRAIN FROM PLAGIARIZING ,TRANSLATING, OR POSTING OUTSIDE THIS PLATFORM.

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vesselforsatin · 1 year

Text

I started writing this for Valentines Day, but my health and job got in the way of me finishing it. It's way too late to finish this. At least for htis year. So I’m posting what I did get done for my Steddie Valentine’s Day fic. The idea was supposed to be that Eddie is a secret romantic and wants someone to express it all to. And he's had a thing for Steve for years because I love the headcanon. They end up spending Valentines Day together and Eddie romances/woos Steve the way he deserves. Maybe next year I'll finish it. But for now, this is an unfinished fic that's just Eddie pining. And I thought of these two lines, which had to be written:

“Isn't it against the laws of metal to be romantic?” Steve asked with a teasing grin.

“I don’t think so. I think it’s metal as fuck to be emotionally vulnerable with someone you’re into and to treat them with the romance they deserve.”

So enjoy under the cut!

(Also I haven't written anything that wasn't academic in forever. Please be kind)

Eddie would never admit it out loud, but he secretly yearned to let out all of the romantic fantasies inside his head. He maintained his cynical appearance on the outside. It paired with the rest of this aesthetic and it kept him safe. But deep down, Eddie was a giant softie. He craved affection and love. He wore his heart on his sleeve and everyone close to him knew it. So when Steve Harrington came barreling into his life and then refused to leave, Eddie's secret romantic desires reached an all time high. How could they not when Steve was so kind and caring? He had a dorky sense of humor that made Eddie crack up even when the jokes were lame. He was smart in a way that differed from the genius teenagers they surrounded themselves with, and picked things apart in a way that fascinated Eddie. And of course, he was the most beautiful man Eddie had ever seen.

He remembered freshman Steve Harrington, with his church boy clothes and shy smile. He was too cute not to catch Eddie's eye. Steve continued to catch Eddie's eye even as he transformed into the king of Hawkins High. Even when his shy smile had become a confident smirk, Eddie thought Steve was cute. Then Steve's fall from grace happened. His hair started to grow out. He spent most the fall wearing sunglasses to hide the ugly bruises on his face. He started wearing sweaters that looked soft Eddie reached out to touch without even thinking. Luckily, one of the guys were usually there to smack his hand away when Eddie's impulse control failed him. Then summer came and Eddie thought he'd seen the last of Steve Harrington. He walked into Scoops only one time before the mall blew up. Seeing Steve in a tight, short sailor suit was too much for Eddie. Especially when Steve turned around and Eddie noticed how pink his lips were. And were those highlights in his hair? Robin told him once how beat up Steve was when Starcourt exploded, but Eddie thought he'd still think Steve was beautiful. He certainly did when Steve was caked in mud, smelled like a sewer, and was borderline bleeding out. He was sure he admitted something like that in his delirium as Steve and Nancy dragged his body out of the Upside Down. But no other phase of Steve Harrington compared to the current one.

Maybe it was because Eddie finally knew Steve and didn't just have to admire from afar. Maybe it was because Eddie finally knew what it felt like to have those beautifully expressive hazel eyes focus solely on him. He now knew firsthand how caring and soft Steve could be, even when he was in pain himself. He also delighted to see that the bitchy side of Steve still existed and could demolish a person with just a few words partnered with a glare. That and Steve's protectiveness was what kept Eddie safe the first few months he started appearing in public again. Unfortunately, it made Eddie's longtime crush develop into full on love. Which made him act like a total idiot and flirt non-stop. And no matter how smooth Eddie tried to be, he'd start tripping over his words the second Steve smiled or laughed. He'd lay awake at night and try to plan how he'd flirt with Steve. He'd eventually fall asleep to the thought of showering Steve with the affection pent up inside of him and domestic fantasies that felt so out of reach. Eddie was both a hopeless romantic and just hopeless in general, but he was determined. In the weeks leading up to Valentine's Day he'd walked up to Steve with all the confidence he could muster, flirt for a while, and then chicken out before asking him out. Afterwards, he'd wallow in his misery while Robin rolled her eyes while patting him on the back. She finally snapped a few days before Valentine's Day and declared herself his wingman because in her words, "It's honestly embarrassing at this point. This is for the greater good and my own sanity." Eddie was just happy for any help he could get.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #pining eddie #stranger things #unfinished fic #unfinished steddie fic #kind of pre-season 4 steddie #platonic Eddie/Robin #idk if they have a name or not #platonic Stobin #obviously bc they're ride or die til the end #I'm exhausted and cannot think of any other tags #let me know if I missed something

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lover-of-botatoes · 4 months

Text

The Apple Incident

tw manipulation (?? i think), blood and gore, severed limbs

unfinished. im sick of seeing this in my drafts so here ya go. enjoy.

What point was there even trying to negotiate with the townfolk? They don't know anything.

They'd kill him regardless.

× ★ ×

Screams was all he heard.

Screams of anger.

Nightmare looked on in fear as the villagers gathered, surrounding him with their pitchforks and knives, with their swords and their shields, with their torches burning bright, with a fire in their eyes.

The strong scent of the torches burning filled the air, smoke making Nightmare's throat sore and his eyes water, while he clanging of metal and banging of wood hit his ears over and over again, the sound blending together to form white noise.

Of course Nightmare would do something like this! He was good for nothing, that wretched boy! He shouldn't even exist!

His brother was the only one in the whole village that even looked at him — much less formed a bond with him!

What point was there even trying to negotiate with the townfolk? They don't know anything.

They didn't know how Dream comforted him over and over, how they always sat together, how they always played together, how Dream refused to leave his side.

Nightmare doubted that they had even the slightest idea of their love for each other, the only thing in their minds being to rid of him.

Dream would not like this — who would?

A murder of an innocent boy, a boy who always kept to himself, a boy who never talked to people, a boy who never even played.

Dream was the only one who stayed with him.

How do you think he would react to seeing his brother dead, cold, lifeless body sprawled on the grass?

Nightmare doubted he would be all too pleased.

The thought of yes, Dream will come save me comforted him as the people got closer, moving like a predator stalking its prey, and Nightmare's face shifted through several emotions — fear, regret, guilt, remorse — but when he heard that voice, egging him on, those feelings disappeared, replaced with RAGE.

Dream was all but forgotten.

He gripped the once-golden apple in his hand, its ink-black juice dripping off the white bones that held it as he took a tentative bite, tasting the flavour before the bites got greedier, growing in tandem with his rising power.

It tasted sweet with a sourness to it, an addicting flavour that helped Nightmare eat all the black apples one by one, never halting.

He began changing — his body was leaking, trying to adjust to the amount of negativity in it — while Nightmare was just adding to it, more, more, more—

He took one last bite before his painful shriek split the air as four great, black tentacles burst from his back as they pierced him — like knives — and writhed, enjoying their newfound freedom.

Voices echoed through Nightmares skull as he struggled to keep a hold on himself, losing control over his own body.

The voices grew louder and louder until they were deafening, a mangled screeching in his ears, a cacophony of a thousand words, screamed and screamed over and over again.

KILL THEM.

KILL THEM ALL.

DON'T SPARE ANYONE.

The voices pounded at his skull, threatening to crack it as Nightmare clutched his head in pain.

But even though Nightmare was in such pain, such utter agony, he could feel his magic swelling, practically bursting at the seams. Getting so weak.

His cyclopean eye light shone like a second moon in the sky, the teal light it emitted near blinding to look at.

Dream wasn't there.

Of course he wasn't.

Why would he want anything to do with Nightmare? That sad excuse for a brother, never talking to anyone, always sitting under that tree, reading book after book after book.

Look at that brother now! A horrid excuse for a living creature, barely even managing to stand on the grass, melting and dripping.

In actuality, Dream was screaming at Nightmare to come back, please, nearly collapsing as tears sprung from his eyes, cascading down his ivory cheeks in golden waterfalls that made his eyes shimmer in the light of the setting sun.

Don't forget me.

When Nightmare finally brought his hands away from his head and looked up, it wasn't Nightmare that Dream was looking at.

It was a monster.

It was a horrid beast that had taken Dream's brother, killed what was left of Nightmare and stole the body, desecrating the corpse.

The screaming in Nightmare's head never subsided as Dream paused, staring into the one eye that his brother still had.

Dream shook as Nightmare simply grinned, glimmering white teeth splitting his face as his eye narrowed in delight.

"Looking for your brother?"

A voice that wasn't Nightmare's cut through the air, taking silence's place as it reached Dream's ears in an instant.

"It's useless.

He's gone."

The low tone that came from what Dream once called his brother didn't help as he suppressed his sobs, his whole body shaking as his emotions grew too much.

Nightmare reached to the top of his head and gently plucked the crown off of it, staring at it for less than a second before he crushed it in his hand, letting the pieces fall to the ground.

"I need a crown fit for a king."

He looks at his empty hand for a moment before looking to Dream.

"Your bones will do nicely."

Dream panicked, letting out a shriek and covering his eyes, trying to think of a way out of this.

The last golden apple was still in Dream's pocket, sitting snugly, unaware of what was happening outside.

Dream took the shimmering apple out, the golden juice spilling from his fingers and dripping to the ground as he tightened his grip on it.

"Now, about that apple..."

Dream shoved the thing in his mouth as a taste that could only be described as heavenly overwhelmed his senses, changing him.

The apple took its place in Dream's hollow ribcage, beating just like a real, glowing SOUL, full of love.

He began to feel his power grow as his eye lights flickered and flared like candles, the influx of happy and positive flooding him, pounding at his head as he pressed his mouth into a thin line in a futile attempt to ignore the splitting pain he felt in his skull.

"Nightmare... Please, you don't—"

The moment Dream uttered those words, Nightmare got very close, eye socket widening in irritation, staring right at Dream.

"Oh, so that you can ignore me again? So that you can act like I'm not here, that I'm not your brother?"

Nightmare gripped Dreams shoulders, keeping him from leaving.

"MAYBE IF YOU HADN'T LEFT, YOUR BROTHER WOULD STILL BE HERE."

Dream's breath hitched as tears began to flow from his empty eye sockets, golden light making the tears look like liquid gold as they fell down his bony cheeks like golden waterfalls.

Nightmare gripped Dream at his neck, bringing him off the ground before Dream summoned a staff and struck Nightmare.

The weapon went right through the viscous muck, doing nothing, but it caught Nightmare off-guard enough that he loosened his grip on Dream, allowing him to fall back to the ground.

"LOOK AT YOU."

Nightmare practically screamed at Dream.

"HOW COULD YOU STRIKE YOUR OWN BROTHER?"

Dream shut his ears, pressing his hands firmly to them as he screamed.

"WHAT CAN YOU CALL YOURSELF, DREAM?"

The way Dream's name fell off Nightmare's tongue made it sound like it had a nasty taste, a bitterness that was absolutely horrid to eat, and it pierced Dream's newly found SOUL, nearly tearing it in half.

Dream clutched at where it would be, the pain enveloping him as he dropped his staff.

Nightmare pierced the hearts of each and every one of the townsfolk with his sharp tentacles while Dream weeped on the ground, helpless.

He pulled limbs from bodies, twisted arms and legs, pulled heads off.

Blood filled the village as the strong smell of copper filled the air, Nightmare just... Grinning.

He made a move to do something to Dream, walking slowly—

Dream brought up his staff again, golden tears flying, and fought against Nightmare, tentacle versus staff, negative versus positive, brother versus brother.

It was a useless battle.

There was simply no way for Dream to win against Nightmare, and this grew more and more obvious as the fight went on.

"Nightmare, please—!"

Stone.

Dream was solid stone, the golden apple within his ribcage shining brightly.

#dreamtale #dreamtale brothers #undertale au #utmv #dream sans #nightmare sans #im so tired of this sitting in my drafts so you guys get a half finsihed thing #fic #my writing. i wrote that

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juyeoniemyhoney · 2 years

Text

magic shop

Taehyun doesn't have any superpowers. But when it comes to you, he'd stop time and so much more.

pairing: kang taehyun x reader

genre: fluff, angst (i guess), hurt/comfort

warnings: y/n is just a tad bit depressed

word count: 1740 words

A/N: ah yes an extremely self-indulgent fic while i blatantly ignore my ongoing series that has been un-updated for more than two months. anyways, please enjoy this fic that i wrote after i lost my mind because of good boy gone bad. stream thurday's child everyone.

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It's three in the morning when Taehyun joins you on the couch.

He doesn't seem too happy to be awake, nor does he seem particularly happy about having to get out of bed to coax you back into it. But Taehyun is patient and kind, so he quietly takes his seat beside you and waits.

As the silence stretches on, Taehyun grows more impatient, wondering what is weighing so heavy on your mind that you refuse to tell him. But he remains as patient as he can, knowing full well that forcing you to tell him would only keep you out of your shared bed longer. So, he waits.

He waits as the clock continues to tick, he waits with your head against his shoulder, he waits with you wrapped snugly around his arm. He waits until it is nearly four in the morning and Taehyun's eyes cannot bear to keep awake any longer. Waits until he is falling closer and closer to the edge of unconciousness before you finally speak.

"I wish I could go back," you finally say, much to Taehyun's surprise. Your words jolt him awake and his mind, too tired to work, doesn't even bother to think about why.

"Go back to when?"

You pause and ponder your answer.

"To when I was happy," you finally confess, holding Taehyun's arm closer to your torso. Taehyun takes a deep breath and leans his head on top of yours, sure yet so unsure of how he should respond.

"I don't even know how to explain it," you start again, not leaving Taehyun enough time to process his own reply. "It's not like I'm not happy. I mean I have you—" Taehyun can't help but smile when you mention him as one of your sources of happiness.

"—but I still feel so..." you pause, not quite knowing what word would best describe how you feel in this moment.

"Empty?" Taehyun offers, taking your hand in his and tenderly rubbing his thumb along your knuckles.

"It's like I don't look forward to anything anymore. I just want to stay in this moment. I don't want to have to go to school anymore, I don't want you to have to go to school either. I just want time to stop and for us to live in our house and be with each other and for the future to never come."

Taehyun remains quiet. He wants time to stop too, desperately so. He loves you and the beautiful relationship, home and life he has built with you over the past two years. He loves waking up and seeing you the first thing in the morning, loves coming home together with you from your university campus and making hot tea for two in your shared kitchen. He loves snuggling up next to you while the two of you watch a movie in between your hectic schedules, even though both of you know that the movie will most likely remain unfinished for the next month. If he could, he would take that nasty ticking clock off that wall and take out the batteries, stopping time because he is with you and you are with him and there is nothing else in this world that he needs.

But Taehyun has always been the more optimistic one in your relationship. Because then, he is thinking about your future, one where there is a ring on your finger and people call you by his last name. One where smaller, tinnier versions of the both of you bound around a family home, giggles and laughs and happiness surrounding the two of you in such a thick haze, Taehyun almost thinks it's real.

And suddenly, he's shoving the batteries back into that battered clock and he's willing time on, desperately willing every day to go faster so that he can finally get down on one knee, so that he can see you swollen with his child, so that he can have a future with you where the two of you are so beyond joy that neither of you can barely believe any of it is real.

Taehyun doesn't know how to tell you that. But he tries anyway.

"Y/N?" he finally speaks for the first time since he'd been rudely awakened by the absence of your warmth. His voice comes out gruffer and more hoarse than the both of you anticipate and Taehyun finds himself swallowing his saliva before he continues softly.

"You know, happiness isn't only in the past."

Taehyun, though he is beyond exhausted lifts his head from yours and gently pulls you off his arm, turning his body to face you as he takes your hands in his and gazes so lovingly and patiently into your eyes you wonder what wars you must have stopped to deserve a man like him.

"You can find happiness in the future too," Taehyun finishes and levels you with a sweet smile, eyes unsure if his words have had the desired effect on you.

"I know," you sigh, moving back into your previous position, with your head on Taehyun's shoulder and his fingers intertwined with yours.

Silence surrounds the two of you once again, the both of you too tired and unsure to say anything next. But you like it. Taehyun is warm and every breath he takes in and every breath he breathes out calms you down, reminds you to breathe with him. Somehow, in this moment, it feels as if time as stopped. You wish it has, you wish you could stay like this with Taehyun for eternity. The clock opposite you continues to tick, its hands mocking you with every movement they make.

Maybe you can't stop time, but Taehyun loves you and he is willing to do whatever he can to make you feel better. If that means he has to stay up way beyond his bedtime and pretend, so be it.

Abruptly, Taehyun moves to stand from the couch, gently prying you from his side as he wordlessly walks to the kitchen and puts the kettle on. Then, he disappears into the bedroom.

At first, you think you've done it. You've finally driven Taehyun to the edge of his patience. He's done dealing with your moods and your emotions and your refusal to sleep and he's going to sleep it off and break up with you in the morning. Taehyun, the most patient person you've ever met has run completely out of it and it's all because of you.

Your tears stop before they can spill over your waterline, however, Taehyun reappears with your blanket and a screwdriver. Without any explanantion whatsoever, he turns the loveseat so it is facing the window, drapes the blanket over your shoulders, wraps you all up in the blanket like a burrito then picks you up from the couch and places you gently on the loveseat, then he takes the screwdriver and heads straight for the clock.

As the kettle comes to a boil, Taehyun unscrews the back of the clock, takes out the batteries and leaves it face down on the floor. He draws open the curtains and takes all the throwpillows from their respective places on the couch and surrounds you with them. Then, he proceeds to the kitchen, fiddles around with a few things and comes back with two steaming cups of tea.

"Just for today," he says sternly before handing you your cup, carefully slotting himself between all the pillows and you, so that his arm is draped across your shoulders, your head against his shoulder once more as the two of you watch the sky.

"Just for today we'll pretend time has stopped, okay?" Taehyun says, this time gently, pressing his lips to the crown of your head as you blow the hot tea, the aroma so alluring and calming you almost fall asleep.

"Just for today?" you ask, disappointment seeping into the tone of your voice. Why can't it be everyday? Why can't the two of you just be caught in a time loop? Where the two of you just continue to repeat this lazy sunday, in each others arms, where not one second are you not skin to skin.

Taehyun puts his mug down and turns to you, his free hand coming up to tuck wisps of your hair behind your ear, thumb stroking at your cheek tenderly. His smile is small but Taehyun's eyes twinkle when he's happy and right in this moment, Taehyun's eyes are glittering so prettily you want to lean over and kiss his eyes.

"I want to marry you some day." Taehyun's confession comes out in a whisper, one almost timid in nature. "But I can't do that if we're just stuck in today, can I?"

You remain silent.

"I know it's hard, my love. But baby steps, okay?" he pauses and just continues to stare at you lovingly, thumb continuing to stroke the soft skin of your cheek. "I'll be with you every step of the way."

"I love you," you tell Taehyun, the words coming out rough and choked, your throat constricting as tears brim in your eyes. Taehyun doesn't have to deal with this. He shouldn't have to deal with your negativity and your emotions at the ass-crack of dawn. He shouldn't have to convince you to continue living your life every single time. He shouldn't have to constantly hide you away from the world. But he does anyway, holds you close to him, warm palms the epitome of comfort, softly humming a tune as time takes a backseat.

There is this idea of a mystical haven, the entrance of which is nestled against the muscles of your heart. A door only you can open, wonders inside only available to who you so choose. When you'd first heard the idea, it sounded like a panic room of sorts, a place you'd go to scream and shout and cry and sob. But now, that door looks a lot like your apartment door. And you like to think if you'd opened the door to your heart, it'd look a lot like this: A warm cup of tea, cozy blankets and soft moonlight. But most importantly, Taehyun. In all of your imagined versions of this magical place, Taehyun is always there. And as Taehyun slowly begins to fall asleep, his head against yours, you begin to think that door against your heart is already open, its magic spilling out and coating your life in illuminant gold, bit by bit.

#taehyun #txt #txt taehyun #taehyun fluff #hurt/comfort #bro this damn bad #tomorrow x together angst #tomorrow x together scenarios #tomorrow x together fanfic #tomorrow x together #tomorrow x together taehyun #taehyun fic #kang taehyun #tyun #taehyun angst???#fanfic

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soleilnomoon · 2 years

Note

requesting off anon this time- really loved the one you did already ;w; peppermint, sorbet, pastelito de guayaba, marshmallow, & cake pops. i'd like to top them off with whipped cream & poppy seeds. side menu #1 ace with female or gn reader please! thank you in advance!

hi omg 💗 i am so sry this took forever; i'm glad you enjoyed the other one, i had a lot of fun writing and suffering 😊 i love ace and i love angst, so i took my time with this one; i'm terrible with fluff and comfort, but i def tried this time (it won't hurt that much, maybe...)

1k words, fem (or gn) reader, no pronouns; sfw, 18+, mdni; hurt/comfort, fluff, and angst bc i can't help myself i am so sry (i'm not); no real warnings, just some sad boy ace vibes & a lil suggestive maybe; reader said something hurtful, but it's vague (and up to your imagination tbh, on what was said)

“i hope someday to say out loud to anyone: you touched me & touched me & touched me & i was made better for it.” — erin slaughter

there’s an imposing wall that’s erected inside of him, constructed sloppily with hundreds of weathered bricks — crumbling from time and neglect, from broken promises and insomnia-induced outbursts — made purely from his unshed tears, obsessive thoughts, and years of him miserably combing through painful memories. there’s never been an appropriate time to say i told you so, but eventually those words flit about in the air, circulating late at night, stealthily crawling in between the floorboards, an unsettling feeling pulsing through his veins. it’s aggressive and perilous; an intricate web of complicated scenarios that refuse to leave him alone.

the words grow loud enough to gnaw at his mind, his chest an unwilling participant turned into a desolate a war zone rife with empty threats and childish wishes. the remnants of his battered heart, frayed at the edges, ribbons of silk spun from despair and solitude, wrap tightly around each one of his ribs. tight enough to constrict; bones that were once indestructible are ground into a fine powder.

penance, he reminds himself; a hefty, burdensome payment for the sin of his existence. but it’s simply not enough.

an inconsequential fight leaves him frustrated beyond reason; his inadequacies clomp around noisily, interrupting his sleep, making him pace down long, empty corridors while everyone else sleeps. more proof, he reasons— the thought remains unfinished, another discarded notion that will likely crop up again and again and again. he tugs at his hair in defeat, teeth clenched, tension shooting through his shoulders and neck.

your words play on a loop; the cadence of your voice a curse that traps him in a cowardly game of cat and mouse. if he repeats them to himself enough times, they might lose meaning, the sting will become less noticeable. tolerable. a scarlet letter that you callously brand on his heart.

it’s guilt that has your sheets tangled around your body, that plunges you into darkness — thick, unnavigable, a nightmare sitting heavily on your chest, clawing at your thoughts. when you try to scream, you’re unable to move; throat dry and scarred, the apology you’ve rehearsed for hours — words you’ve agonized over, handpicked with precision and affection — bubbling around, making it difficult to ignore your role in all of this.

is it sleep paralysis or cowardice that prevents you from fully waking up? you’re not sure. but something prompts you to get up as sweat glides down your face and onto your neck. the room is stifling, a prison of sorts, one that you intentionally sequestered yourself to for the duration of the night.

hindsight is unkind and unforgiving, your steps are hurried, bile clinging to the back of your throat; you nearly lose your nerve and slow down, breathing unevenly, hands clutching the hem of your shirt as you press your back against the wall. ace rounds the corner, sees you close your eyes and inhale deeply — it’s muscle memory, the way his legs carry him over to you, his strides swift and purposeful.

while he wants to shake you, to ask you why, why, why, he doesn’t. ace brushes his knuckles down your cheeks — round, soft, stained with dried tears — and you finally exhale.

behind the fading anger, behind the veneer of impassivity, a tenderness and adoration that you don’t deserve — his eyes hold a warmth that you will covet for the rest of your life. irony is the favorite cousin of misery, so it’s unsurprising that you both open your mouths and simultaneously say, i’m sorry.

you press your fingers against his lips, head shaking, curls frizzy, out of place — a storm, chaos, and beautiful to him all the same — you’re certain that if you let him continue, you’ll never say what you need to say.

“i…i shouldn’t have said that. it wasn’t right, and it’s not true, you know that right?”

silence is all he can offer you as he’s still reeling from your admission. the fault is not entirely yours, he knows, but he can’t seem to bring himself to stop your rambling. he used to think his feelings for you were too big, always expanding, shifting around, filling him unnecessarily — but now he knows that he’s had it all wrong. in your desperation to over-explain yourself, additional tears spill down — an overflowing well, heart swollen with vulnerability. he watches the way you cradle his hand in yours, thumbs gently kneading into his palms; a soothing massage of sorts, one that makes it difficult to stay upset.

you realize that, once again, you’ve let yourself get carried away. the sensible thing would be to properly talk things out, but you’re at your limit and can barely look him in the eyes. so you turn away and prepare to sprint back to your room; ace grabs onto your arm and holds you still.

“wait,” his voice is low, husky — a little hoarse from berating himself repeatedly — and he drops his hand so he can hold onto yours, “don’t leave.” in your haste to direct the flow of this theatrical affair, you forgot that his charm is the focal point of his magnetic persona. he kisses your palm once, twice; you start to lose count when he presses a lingering kiss on the inside of your wrist, and if he wasn’t already holding onto, your legs would’ve betrayed you terribly. still, you hardly feel any shame over it, instead allowing ace to bring you to his room.

under thick blankets, you curl into him. your fingers trace shapes on his broad chest, pausing when he inhales sharply — fingertips ghosting his skin as you craft another, more intimate, apology. your lips are soft against his — kisses even more so — and when fatigue makes its rounds again, you both struggle to stay awake. but it’s your hands rubbing small circles on his back that demolishes a significant portion of that wall, making it easier for him to breathe, sleep wrapping its long, spindly arms around him. it takes you a little longer, but you don’t mind it — not at all. you’re much too content enjoying this brief respite, hopeful that all of this might spill over into the morning.

#i rly do appreciate u for being patient with my pacing; i just like to take my time w. certain pieces #fic request #milestone event #500+ followers event #🍭✨🍨sticky & sweet event🧁✨🍭#one piece imagine #one piece angst #one piece fluff #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #portgas d. ace #portgas d. ace x reader #portgas d. ace x y/n #ace x reader #ace x y/n #ace fluff #ace angst #i feel a tiny bit bad 4 making ace sad #mnemosyneslunarian

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seeleycollins · 1 year

Text

Before the End part II

Ugh, Ominis is so hard to write for T_T

So here's part II of my previous fic. (Please read part one for more context.) I'm gonna' post it now before I analyze it too much and talk myself out of it.

Just a quick note- I left Sebastian completely out of this. Kind of an odd choice, but when I let him in, he derailed the whole story into his direction and I realized his arc was too complicated for what I was wanting to write about. Perhaps a more skilled writer would have done it, but I am not she.

As soon as he walked into the Great Hall that evening Ominis knew something was amiss. He walked into a low din of confused whispers.

-Where’s the food?-

-Do you think the elves forgot?-

-Maybe they’re on strike?-

As he made his way to the Slytherin table, he felt his mood sinking. He knew, somehow, without asking, that you were not there and would not be coming. A surge of crippling doubt overcame him then, when he imagined what you must be doing, who you must be facing.

It shouldn’t have to be you.

It was the one constant in all his confusing thoughts surrounding you. He wasn’t trying to infantilize you, he knew you to be an extremely capable student, especially considering your unorthodox schooling thus far. But you were still a student. It was unconscionable what you were being asked to do by the people around you.

Did you have no one in your life who put your well-being above whatever scheme you’d been dragged into? No one more capable who was willing to take your place? Was this faculty full of nothing but cowards?

He exhaled, taking a seat, rubbing his temples, and mentally berating himself. These thoughts were not productive. His one man crusade to condemn the entire school would definitely have gotten an eyeroll out of you.

Things are rarely black and white, he could practically hear you say. And he knew you were right. There was more to all this than you had shared with him. Pieces you held back, sentences you left unfinished, questions you refused to answer all together. At the time, he thought he was respecting your boundaries, your friendship, by not prying.

But now?

Now, he didn’t know what to think. Would more information change the way he felt about the situation? It wouldn’t change the outcome, so perhaps not. You’d still be wherever you are, risking your life, while he sat here, listening to people complain about the missing food, having no idea one of you may never return.

More sour thoughts. More misplaced anger. He was working himself into quite the state and felt powerless to stop it.

Realizing he had no real appetite and maybe it was best if he just left to brood in his dorm alone, he made to rise from his seat when he heard Headmaster Black clearing his throat from the front of the hall.

“Ahem.”

A few of the voices around him ceased, but for the most part, the noise had almost no effect whatsoever.

“Ah-hem,” Black tried again, this time with a bit more force. Still, he was mostly ignored, everyone far too concerned with the lack of food to care about whatever self-aggrandizing, pre-rehearsed anecdote their illustrious headmaster had to share this evening.

“WILL YOU ALL BE QUIET?!”

Ominis winced and several groans echoed along the hall. The headmaster had gone overboard with the amplifying charm. Again. Paying no mind to the discomfort he just caused, Black continued in the same overbearing volume.

“TONIGHT AFTER DINNER, YOU WILL REPORT DIRECTLY TO YOUR DORMS WHERE YOU WILL REMAIN FOR THE REST OF THE NIGHT. YOU WILL NOT LEAVE YOUR DORM UNTIL YOU ARE PERMITTED BY YOUR HEAD OF HOUSE. PREFECTS, YOU ARE TASKED WITH ENSURING THE MEMBERS OF YOUR HOUSE FOLLOW THESE INSTRUCTIONS. ANYONE CAUGHT DISOBEYING THESE INSTRUCTIONS WILL BE DEALT WITH SWIFTLY AND PUNISHED ACCORDINGLY. ENJOY YOUR MEAL. THAT IS ALL.”

On cue, the usual food appeared on the tables. All at once, Ominis’ nose was filled with the succulent scents of honeyed ham, kidney pie, and roasted potatoes. He made no move to eat, however, his mind too caught up in processing the implications of Black’s speech.

Being escorted to their dorms after dinner? Did that mean whatever you were wrapped up in had found its way here? The thought had not even occurred to him. Hogwarts was supposed to be impenetrable- ancient magic weaved so tightly within its walls that even the strongest wizard couldn’t hope to move a pebble from its place.

So how?

No. Surely, he was reading the situation wrong. Surely he was missing some context that would paint this all in a much different light. Because if he wasn’t reading this wrong, and there really was someone out there capable of breaching the safeguards that had held strong for literally hundreds of years…

How were you to stand against such a force and triumph?

It was madness. Everything. His circular thoughts included. He felt paralyzed with the implications.

A hand on his arm nearly startled him out of his seat.

“What’s really going on?” He recognized the voice belonging to Imelda Reyes. He could feel her presence at his back as she leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Everything Black just said is bullshit and you and I both know it. Something’s happening. Something big. Where’s-”

“-I don’t know,” he interrupted. “She didn’t tell me much before…” Not quite a lie, but not the truth either. You hadn’t told him exactly what you were up to, but he was certain he knew more than most. Maybe more than anyone else, save that damnable Professor Fig.

“How does she factor into all this? What’s going on, Gaunt?”

For a split second, he nearly divulged all he knew. If for no other reason than to have someone understand his anxiety. His dread about what was taking place. But just as quickly, he realized if Imelda didn’t know more, it was because you didn’t tell her. And why? Why didn’t you share your burdens with others? By not telling, was he now complicit in your unhealthy habit of keeping everything close to the chest? Was he your enabler?

“For fuck’s sake, Gaunt, say something you twit. You look like you’re about to throw up.”

He made a disapproving sound in his throat, but was secretly thankful for Imelda’s crude brand of interaction, harsh enough to interrupt his seriously spiraling thoughts.

“I don’t know, Imelda. I’m not as well informed as you seem to believe.” Another not-quite-lie. How many times could he worm his way out of giving a straight answer before she lost her patience with him?

“I don’t believe you,” she said, voice dripping with venom and then she was gone. Apparently, her tolerance for bullshit was even shorter than he supposed.

Dinner was a quiet affair after that. Even the other students could feel something was wrong. In his nearly six years at Hogwarts, not once had the whole school been sent to their dorms like this. The atmosphere was oppressive with the unknown. He heard soft, childish crying from somewhere- probably a first year- then the quiet cooing of someone trying to comfort them.

Ominis didn’t eat, he couldn’t. The smell was bad enough, but just the thought of putting anything in his mouth made him feel intensely ill. He judged that nearly forty-five minutes had passed before the first prefect spoke up- someone from Hufflepuff- and began to usher her flock out of the hall.

Slytherin was the last out. Besides a few half-hearted protests, the trek to the dungeons was mostly orderly. Everyone seemed to understand the gravity of the situation, even with the details missing.

It wasn’t until entering the Slytherin common room that people finally began to talk again and the theories began to fly, many of them so incredibly outlandish that even he smiled at the absurdity. He didn’t linger, his own theories far too dark to be spoken aloud or shared. Instead, he made haste to his room, where he laid down in silence and tried not to think about what might be happening to you.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed. It might have been an hour, maybe more. Eventually, his roommates came in one by one to sleep. The noise outside the room grew steadily quieter until it ceased. Everyone must finally be in bed. He waited until he heard the individual noises indicating sleep from each roommate before setting foot out of bed and slipping out of the room.

The common area was blessedly empty and he finally felt like he could breathe again. His room had become claustrophobic with all his obsessive postulating. The air out here was cooler and not as dense. He navigated to the tall windows holding the lake back and sat down. The sound of the underwater was soothing.

How long he sat there, he couldn’t say. But at some point his quiet reverie was shattered by a noise unlike any he had ever heard- a crash so loud, it rattled the walls. Noises of confusion and panic sounded from the direction of the dorms, silenced momentarily by yet another louder, more forceful crash, that shook the very foundation.

A chandelier crashed somewhere to the floor, followed by several other unidentifiable objects falling to the ground. Most disturbingly, he heard an eerie, high-pitched sound from the windows beside him.

The glass was cracking.

The common room erupted into chaos then, people screaming, crying, yelling for others to calm down, and yet still, that high-pitched sound continued. Ominis had enough sense to move from his spot directly in front of the windows and pulled out his wand.

Another shuttering explosion happened from somewhere deep below causing someone to fall into him. He hit the ground painfully just before something heavy and metal fell on his back, his body making a sick slapping noise as it was pummeled into the floor.

“Merlin’s beard, the windows!” somebody cried out followed by a quick succession of the repairo charm.

“We have to get out of here!”

“We’re going to die!”

“What’s happening?!”

It was all so much. Too much for his overworked senses. He was getting more and more disoriented by the second. There were bodies falling, being pushed, bumping into him. More and more decor fell to the ground in the panic. He was being shoved this way and that until he had no idea what part of the room he was in.

And the screaming. It was so loud, so incoherent. It drowned out every thought before it could even fully form.

“The door! It’s not opening! We’re locked in!”

“Blast it open, you idiot!”

“Are you mental?”

“Take his wand before he starts a fire and kills us all!”

“What! You can’t just- hey!”

Ominis tried to take a deep breath, if only he could make it to a wall-

He reached out blindly, there was too much commotion for his wand to be of any use.

A final explosion rang out, this one by far the loudest. A quick succession of spells rang out- reparo, levioso, protego, including his down. Ominis couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so feeble, so completely helpless as he did then, cowering under a shield of his making, unable to anticipate what was happening or how to help.

But then, a thought came to him, interrupting his self-flagellation. Somewhere, in the epicenter of that explosion was you. And the magic that was causing all this? It wouldn’t have come from you. You wouldn’t have risked it, risked hurting anyone else. So that meant you were taking the brunt of whatever dark force was causing this. Whatever magic was shaking this incredibly protected school to its core, you were standing against it.

Alone?

Merlin, he hoped that wasn’t true.

The chaos around him continued. There were no more rumbling shocks that night. Fights broke out, factions were made. There were those in favor of trying to force their way out, those who thought it was too dangerous and aimed to stop them, and those who just accepted the situation as it was. Ominis found himself in the latter group, by default. He didn’t really think they’d be able to get out and he didn’t want to fight, especially not in such close quarters. So he did the only thing that made sense, he made his way back to his room, cast the protego charm, and pretended to sleep for the second time that night.

After a few hours, it was quiet again, the adrenaline having worn off and exhaustion taking its place. Only one of his roommates came back to bed. And eventually, he, too, succumbed to sleep.

There will likely be a part III. Probably won't come as soon as part II. I was really interested in writing about what it would be like if there were really a battle taking place in Hogwarts from the non-participant side, so it came somewhat quickly. I imagine it's going to take a little time to get in both Ominis' headspace after such an event and 'your' headspace.

But I want to do it, or at least try. So look for a conclusion within the week.

#ominis gaunt #ominis x you #ominis x reader #hogwarts legacy

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vampireninjabunnies-blog · 1 year

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WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton

Tagging anyone with anything to share

@redreart

Regret

John Seed x Esther

Jerome Jeffries

Another scene for my fic. Not sure I'm happy with it yet

Jerome stared out at the empty pews of his church. Wanting desperately to enjoy the brief respite from the chaos the day had brought. Tomorrow the county would return to the violence of Joseph's reaping although he doubted they would hear from John for a few more days at least. Rorke had questions, questions that grew in number everyday. Jerome could tell he was growing frustrated with everyone's refusal to answer them. That they were sowing seeds of doubt with their silence. That he should answer some of them.

But how to explain, to make Rorke understand. The regret over all the missteps that led them here. How many missed opportunities to prevent this whole mess. His own mistakes.

This same night three years ago it had been raining. The sky had opened up suddenly, dark and foreboding. Jerome had been preparing to go home wondering to himself if he was wasting his time. With so much of his flock gone perhaps it was a sign his work was done. Maybe he needed to find a new way to serve God.

He was startled when the doors flew open, looking up he saw John Seed standing in front of him. His arms wrapped around his heavily pregnant wife in a vain attempt to shield her from the rain. Surprised to see them he rushed over as John helped Esther into a pew.

"John, Esther? Is everything-" His question fell dead, unfinished but surely answered when John looked up at him. Fear and desperation written on his face, his hands shaking.

He glanced at Esther as she ran her hand along John's arm trying to soothe him. Quickly taking note of her disheveled hair, and split lip. The bruises on her neck, where someone's hand had clearly been.

John grabbed him harshly by the shoulders, his eyes wet with unshed tears. Anger and panic falling off of him in waves. Pleading with him to understand what they needed.

"Don't let her go with anyone Jerome! Please, no one from the project, no one!"

"John. Calm down, I can help. Just tell me what happened."

Letting go of him John pulled a gun from the holster at his hip. His movements hurried and frantic. His mind clearly racing as he handed the gun to Jerome. "Promise me. Don't let them take her. Promise!"

Jerome nodded, taking the gun from him. John knelt down in front of Esther, taking her hands in his.

"It's alright. Everything is fine. I just need to grab a couple things. I'll be right back. Stay here with Jerome. You'll be safe."

He kissed her forehead lightly and started for the door. Turning back to Jerome.

"If Joseph comes..." His brow furrowed. Debating something in his mind. The uncertainty in his face gave way to resolve. Cold and hard. "...shoot him."

Silence fell over them as he left. His words hanging heavily in the air. Nothing but the sound of the rain outside. Esther lost in thought offered no explanations. And Jerome was too stunned to seek any. So they sat there in that oppressive silence for what seemed like an eternity before John finally returned.

Helping Esther up he threw a coat over her shoulders. She put her hand to his cheek,his eyes closing as he leaned into it

"John." She whispered softly. Tears falling along the soft curve of her face. "I...lost my temper. I'm sorry."

His eyes shot open in disbelief. "Sorry?"

Pulling her close, he buried his face in her hair, gently running his hand along her back. Holding her tightly to him as though she might disappear.

"No I'm sorry. I never should have brought you here." His breathe was shallow as the realization swept over him. "I never should have come here. This is my fault."

Pulling away from her he cupped her face with both hands. "But I'm gonna fix it. Okay. We'll leave and everything will be fine."

Though his voice was steady it did little to hide the uncertainty he felt. He looked to Jerome something on his mind though he seemed unable to find the words. Instead turning away and ushering Esther outside. Jerome followed. The rain soaking through his clothes as he watched them climb into John's car. He saw a few bags in the back. There was a knot forming in the pit of his stomach. A sinking dread. A small voice in the back of his mind was screaming at him. To stop them, make John calm down and think it through. To wait, to leave later when things calmed down.

But he didn't. He watched as they drove off toward the County line, headlights fading as they disappeared into the night. Not knowing in the moment that they would never make it. That it would be the last night anyone in the County could call John their friend. The last shred of sanity and humanity in John being swept away by the Henbane with his wife and unborn child.

Jerome sighed heavily his mind returning to the present. He'd give anything to change that night. Now all he could do was stop John spreading his own pain across the valley. Knowing full well they'd have to kill him. And praying when they did that she'd be waiting for him.

#far cry 5 oc #oc:esther seed #far cry 5 #john seed #fic:roses on my barren soul #johnseedxesther #wip: roses on my barren soul #wip wednesday

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k-u-m-a-c-h-a-n · 2 years

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Shopping?! (DISCONTINUED)

Bakugou Katsuki x reader one-shot (unfinished) (crossposted)

Check the original link to read the A/N if you want

Before reading this, keep in mind that:

I am by NO MEANS a (good) writer, writing is not my passion, I simply enjoy doing it for fun, sometimes (rarely)

I wrote this story a few months ago, I just wanted to post it on my Tumblr account too

If you find any grammatical mistakes, tell me!

Crappy fanfic or not, please do not repost this anywhere

I literally just copy and pasted it (a.k.a. I didn't re-read it)

It's very...cringy

Reader is female! (this is why)

For the third time, the story is not (and will never be) finished

"Man, I'm hungry." You stated, looking around your kitchen. "I wonder if I have any snacks left?". You started looking through every cupboard and drawer, only to find absolutely nothing....well, nothing is an overstatement, you found some empty containers, like boxes of cookies and bags of chips, which you couldn't bring yourself to throw away in the trashcan for some reason. " Okay...so no snacks...I should cook something then." You spoke to yourself, feeling rather depressed because of the lack of snacks in your house. You trotted your way to the fridge, praying to see something devour-able, or at least something to nibble on, but alas, your prayers have not been answered. God decided to put you on a diet, for he said "It's for character development.". Needless to say, you were NOT happy with your current situation, but you weren't going to throw a hissy fit like a toddler either. So, as a reasonable person, you took this matter into your own hands and said the following: " Guess I'll die. " No food, no life, am I right or am I right? With nothing to eat, you chose to starve to death. (A little over dramatic,huh, (y/n)?) Going back to your room, you sigh and flop on your bed, ready to welcome your demise with open arms. There was nothing better to do than get under the covers and accept your dea- *BZZZ* "Hm?" *BZZZ BZZZ* Your tablet suddenly buzzed, notifying you of your new messages. "I wonder who it is... " Grabbing your medium-sized piece of hardware, you turn it on to see who, exactly, wishes to talk to you at this time of the day. Man, you hoped it wasn't some kind of invitation. You never liked going out, mainly because you didn't really have anyone to go out with, so of course you got used to the loneliness and refused to go with the others. Hm.. The only occasion you get out of your house with the rest, for example, Shinsou, Todoroki, Midoriya, Mina, Bakugou, etc., in groups or separately, is when going to the store. It's not because you want to make them pay for you or anything like that (*rolls eyes*), but because you simply cannot talk to the cashier yourself. And 'why' is that? Well, you see... 1. You don't speak Japanese, and not all cashiers speak English. 2. You're socially anxious, so interacting with a cashier is a big nono. Obviously, you didn't tell your friends DIRECTLY that you 'think' you're socially anxious, when they asked you why couldn't you do it by yourself, you always shrugged it off and said that you just didn't like talking to cashiers, which sounded a little bit too specific, as if you're holding a grudge against the poorly-paid employees (do cashiers in Japan have a decent salary?), so you corrected yourself and said that you just didn't really like talking to strangers, and people in general, to which Mina replied "Haha, classic (y/n)! ". Ahem.. Opening up your instant messaging app, you scroll down and see that the one who yearns to speak to you is none other than... Bakugou Katsuki. "Hey, you" "My old hag made me go shopping" "Wanna come" The stars couldn't align any better than this. Thinking about all the snacks you could buy with Bakugou, you started typing your response, but just when you were about to hit the send button, your device vibrated one more time, snapping you out of your daydream. "DON'T LEAVE ME ON READ, YOU DUMBASS" Chuckling at his impatience, you pressed the send button, your message appearing on your, and Bakugou's, screen. "Yeah, sure, I'm hungry anyway" "Let me just grab my wallet" "And change clothes " "Well, hurry up" ''Don't rush me'' ''I'll rush you if I want to''

Leaving your piece of hardware on your bed, you walk over to your wardrobe and look inside, trying to find something nice to wear, something...that isn't one of the 3 pieces of clothing you usually wear. Five minutes pass and you're still staring at the guts of your closet, sighing, you grab a pair of black sweat pants, a white T-shirt with the word 'hello' printed on it, a white flannel shirt, a white checkered scarf, a black beanie, and the cherry on top...a skull ring. (OR anything else you prefer) You snatch your tablet one more time to tell Bakugou that you're ready to go and that he may now come and get you. You were about to open another app, but you didn't have enough time to do so because: "Lmfao 'come and get you'? YOU'RE coming to the store by YOURSELF" Confused and 'heartbroken' by his reply, you answer: "HUUUH?? B-but?? I don't even know WHERE you are rn and I'm babey 🥺 I can't go out by myself, what if a villain kidnaps me? How would you sleep knowing that I'm dead? " "Like a baby" "BAKUGOUUUU please pick me up :( I'm staaaaarviiiiing" Bakugou huffed, you have always been such a crybaby... Well, not really, but Bakugou, being the bully that he is, would always call you names the second he would hear you whining about 'insignificant' things, of course, you'd insult him back.

*beginning of flashback*

"Tsk, I can't believe they ran out of Pocky, I've been craving them for a week! " you whisper-yelled. "Aw... Don't worry (y/n)! They'll restock soon enough! " Mina, the person you chose to help you out with the cashier, exclaimed. "No, Mina! You don't understand! Everytime I walk past that store, they have endless flavours of Pocky! I can see them through the window! But when I try to buy some, they're mysteriously sold out? HOW is that fair? Tell me, Mina. HOW is that fair? " "Hmm, well, I'm not saying that's fair, but I'm sure you'll get them next time, yeah?" She positively said, snaking her arm around your shoulder. "MINA, are you listening to me???? I want Pocky NOW." You groaned. "STOP WHINING YOU CRYBABY BITCH!!!" "HUH???! " Whipping your head around, you and Mina see Bakugou walking towards you, with his hands in his pockets, and a scowl on his stupid little face, as usual. "You heard me. Stop whining and grow up." "Don't tell me what to do. If you don't want to hear me whining, you're more than welcome to leave, asshole. " you told him off, walking away from him. "YEAH, what she said! " Mina chimed instantly, going in the same direction as you. Rolling his eyes, Bakugou started walking in the opposite direction, straight to his house.

*end of flashback* You see Bakugou typing away his message, most likely an insult or something to make you - (end of one shot)

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ashley-slashley · 1 year

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Strange Days

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Summary: you enter your apartment one day to find an artifact on the floor, and a strange man sitting at your table. strange days have found you, but jim morrison is no where to be found

Rating: M/Mature

Warnings: language, some violence, long paragraphs

A/N: unfinished overall story. i transferred this from my ao3. enjoy!

Chapter 3: Magic Man

“Oh my god, what a fabulous room! Are all these your guitars?” I said in an exaggerated tone of wonder, Horvath just let out a heavy sigh. “Before we try anything, you need this” he pulled a ring out of his pocket and handed it to me, “Whorevath, you’re making it very difficult for me to not bust out into song and dance right now. I don’t even have the correct setting for it, I need stairs, chandeliers, women in fluffy pink tulle dresses, men in suits with a red and white sash across the torso beneath the suit jacket, and most importantly - A SLEEVELESS, FLOOR LENGTH, PINK EVENING GOWN WITH OPERA LENGTH PINK GLOVES, SIMPLE BLACK HEELS, AND A FUCK TON OF DIAMOND JEWELRY!” I spun around with my arms out over dramatically. “You can do that on your own time after you master sorcery, what do you mean anyway?” Horvath just put the ring in my hand, I grinned, “you know what they say, ‘square cut or pear shaped, these rocks don’t lose their shape’", I put the ring on, “time to get to learning sorcery to destroy the Prime Merlinian, and take over the world” he paid no attention to what I was getting at.

He stood in the middle of the room with legs apart, his arms gracefully and slowly rose up as if he were leading an impromptu funeral service on a beach somewhere in Vietnam, that’s the best way I can describe it, ok. Now you tell me arson is involved in learning Morganian sorcery? Because I didn’t expect the initiation process to involve me stepping into a literal ring of fire - “Morganian circle” as my mentor put it. To put it bluntly, stepping into this circle will essentially be like entering a pyramid scheme in the way that I can’t get out (even though you can leave a pyramid scheme, but that’s not my problem). Well, actually, it’s like that one song that goes “beyond the seas of thought beyond the realm of what. Across the streams of hopes and dreams where things are really not.” something something “where fantasy is fact. So if you can, please understand - you might not come back”. Sounds like a deal, I cautiously stepped into the ring, and portions of the shape with a ballerina-like technique, going towards Horvath. “I am Maxim Horva-”, “your name is really Maximus Whorevath? Alright, I’ll shut up.” I interrupted him. He continued with whatever ranking he has within sorcery, I didn’t get the exact number, but I am now officially his apprentice. Somehow, he effortlessly stepped out of the ring and began circling it, not really in a predatory way, but I’m concerned about his overcoat catching fire and watching a man burn to death while I just stand there in awe thanks to something called the bystander effect. He explained that this ring can somehow manifest the electrical energy of my central nervous system in the flesh, and without it, I’m practically useless against whatever bullshit gets in my way in terms of sorcery. “So, uh, you’re gonna teach me how to use it? Right?” I stood there awkwardly, waiting for him to actually do any teaching.

Practically effortlessly, he set up a pile of trash nearby. “Okay, sweetheart”, my brother in christ, why are you like this, “clean it up”. “So, you bring me to an abandoned warehouse just for you to accumulate garbage that was most likely left here by dry-wallers who refuse to keep their space reasonably clean? How the hell does that equate to sorcery? Then again, maybe some tweakers left their shit here. Really, you’re going to start with this bullshit again?” I was pinned to the wall by whatever rods of steel were left behind by construction, yep, back on his bullshit. “Will you stop having ridiculous thoughts FOR FIVE MINUTES?” he yelled cruelly, “but where do you want me to put the garbage? It’s not like we have a landfill on hand over here.” I crossed my arms over my chest and stared him down. He just left, well, what did I expect from him? Of course he’d be the kind of mentor to make me figure stuff out on my own. The only thing he said was something about looking for an area to summon Morgana. So, here I am, alone in a warehouse tasked with destroying or throwing around objects. Could be worse.

Reaching into my pocket, I took out my phone, and put on some music to help me focus on the task. A fast and upbeat tune permeated the room as I practiced the act of creating a plasma ball. "Tach it up, tach it up. Buddy gonna shut you down" I sang along as I threw the ball at a small chunk of concrete, I couldn’t help but dance along to the song. Nothing really worth writing home about, just moving about while I flick my arm out at an empty can to y’know, shoot a concentrated mass of energy from my spinal cord at it. The more comfortable I got, I began lifting objects and lowering them as “Yeah, my fuel injected Stingray and a four-thirteen. (Oooo rev it up now)”, eventually throwing them as the rhythm increased. I don’t know how exactly, but I kinda went into sixties go-go style dancing, tragically I left my white go-go boots at home. Using the motion of swimming with my arms, I projected a ball of electricity at an empty bottle, “Declinin' numbers at an even rate (Oooo movin' out now)” the song went on. Don’t ask how I’ve somehow managed to focus on both music and just manifesting energy into my hand to bombard at some unfortunate object all in the span of like a bit over a minute (that all makes no sense, but bear with me). Rhythmically, I bent and straightened my knees in time with the music - it looks like I’m shaking my hips, but I’m really not. I moved my arms up and down while swiveling myself on the balls of my feet, replicating dance moves I've heard about when researching go-go bars of the 60s, with the song as I picked up objects and threw them or just showed them no mercy at all. I'm willing to bet that no prior Morganians, or Morgana herself, would've guessed some random person in the future would be doing dances called the front stroke, the backstroke, the dog paddle, the underwater stroke, the ramp dive, and the dive - keeping my movement constant with small bounces and shifting of my feet. I can’t really describe what I’m doing. With each front stroke, I shot a plasma ball at random chunks of cement. “Superstock Dart is windin' out in low. But my fuel injected Stingray's really startin' to go”, a few dives here and there while hitting some trash on the floor.

A percussion line bounced off the walls as I swiveled myself on the balls of my feet from left to right. “Well, there's a brand new place I've founda. Where people go from miles arounda. They come from ev'rywhere and if you drop in there” I moved my forearms in a circular motion while doing the same leg motions I was before, except every now and again kicking out. Unintentionally, I picked up a rod, apparently purple circles, the move I’m doing with my arms, activates this ability. Just to see what would happen, I tossed a rod to my left. Crack! You’re telling me that with the power of Motown and go go dancing, I easily pierced a concrete wall with a steel rod. I have like half of the song left, I’ll just keep at this destruction!

With every trumpet section after the “(A-one more time. . . .yeah!)”, I threw one rod into the ceiling. Why not, it’s not like some safety guy from OSHA is going to pop out of nowhere like the Spanish inquisition and obliterate me. I threw quite a few lengths of steel rods into the ceiling of the warehouse, iconic. Shifting my weight from one foot to another semi rapidly, I moved my arms in a swimming motion - lengths of steel rods were annihilated to the beat of the music, fractions of it just throwing themselves across the room. “Going to a g-OH SHIT!” I yelled as a rod flew towards me, impulsively I shot a plasma bolt at it. As expected, the rod exploded. Soon enough another song began, I sang along.

“When you move in right up close to me. That's when I get the shakes all over me” I sang along to the music I had on while throwing plasma bolts at one of the piles of trash. Despite the fact my mentor would probably deem me too as a disappointment to Morgana, well, uh, at least this is in private - especially since I couldn’t help but somewhat dance to the music as well. Sure I’m no Joey Heatherton or Ann Margaret , but, who honestly cares? “Yeah havin' the tremors in the thighbone. Shakin' all over" towards a small block of cement, aiming my ring at the cement I picked it up and threw it across the room, “Just the way you say goodnight to me. Brings that feeling on inside of me” the block made a small crater in the wall. I continued belting out lyrics while picking up objects and throwing them, until I noticed an over looming shadow appear before me as I aim another plasma bolt at debris. Oh shit. I shyly used my powers to shut off the music, looked down, and gulped. “What were you doing?” Horvath interrogated, “uh, practicing technique” my voice cracked. “Get up.” he demanded, I obliged. “Turn around.” I obliged, and faced him. As usual, he was disappointed. I opened my mouth, but he stopped me, “I don’t know how to feel about my apprentice practicing Morganian sorcery like this.” he gestured to the items I’ve been throwing around.

I looked at the ground and suppressed a giggle, “what is so amusing?”, ‘well,uh, it could have been worse” I slowly shrugged. Horvath raised a brow and tilted his head towards me, as to tell me to go on, “it could have been a list of various songs that I’d have a difficult time explaini-”, “enough” he cut me off. He explained that if we want to assume world domination and destroy all life in the name of Morgana, we should take ourselves more seriously, fair enough. I knew better than to question him, even if I do have a valid reason. Of course he caught on and demanded I explain this reason or idea I have, “I don’t think Balthazar nor Dave, especially Balthazar, would expect graceful and flowing movements from their opponent in battle. What it is, essentially, is just distracting the opponent, and taking advantage of their lack of focus.” he smiled at my concept.

“What is that?” he pointed at my phone. “Horvath, this” I gestured to my phone, “is the product of decades of innovation and possible influence from Star Trek. This is a phone. I know that it looks nothing like the rotary phones from the Edwardian era, or early twentieth century to be more accurate. I suppose one could use it for sorcery, but I doubt it. Then again, in a way, this is sorcery to you since, y’know, you’re ancient. Tell me, did Mel Brooks do justice to Torquemada?” I rambled on. He then asked what the music I listening to was, this is where the fun begins. “That, Horvath, was Johnny Kidd & The Pirates. They were a rock group in the sixties, the song you walked in on me, uh, practicing to was Shakin' All Over. No idea what it's about, I just like the way it sounds instrumentally." he just blinked at me. “Good thing it was Waterloo and not any of the really absurd and Very difficult to explain without going on an hour and a half long tangent about what was going on in the sixties and seventies” I laughed. He stared at me. I don’t understand how or why Horvath isn’t screeching at me, but whatever. I would ask him if he wants to quit sorcery practice for today so I could really introduce him to all the advancements in culture we’ve made in the past one hundred and twenty something years, but he’ll probably say “yes.” I can’t describe my expression at the moment, but why does he want to take a break from me learning how to essentially take over the world and enslave humanity just so he can learn about culture? Unless he wants to use psy-ops along with magic to take over the world, kinda like something the CIA would do.

#the shitposter writes #the sorcerer's apprentice #maxim horvath #balthazar blake #dave stutler

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