#i'm not insane i'm just lunatic (crack)

[ckret2]

Chapter 15 of Bill's a human prisoner and everybody's grumpy about it, featuring: NIGHTMARES NIGHTMARES NIGHTMARES NIGHTM

Remember these? We're getting 'em both in one chapter. Plus: FORD! Also: a little bit of human gore, a lot of bizarre alien gore.

This is a shorter chapter, but it's the first one with a direct glimpse into Bill's backstory and home dimension. I hope you enjoy! And are deeply horrified!

####

"You have to stop spouting this nonsense." A golden line slithered around him, weaving back and forth, her furious eye focused on him as she paced. "Nobody comes to your services for deranged muttering about points of light in darkness. They don't want to hear about things that are above-but-not-north of us! What does that mean, above-but-not-north?"

"It means what it says, Mom." Above him—above, but not north, in an endless void outside the plane of the world—countless stars twinkled in an unending dark. "That's where the third dimension is. And that's what it looks like! I don't know how else to explain it to someone who hasn't seen it!"

"Then why explain it at all? They don't want to hear it! It's a surprise you aren't already losing congregants. I know you can tell you're losing their interest."

He could tell. Sullenly, he said, "Maybe we just—just need smarter congregants. If they weren't too stupid to understand—"

"People are stupid, sweetie. That's why they follow you. You don't want the smart ones anyway, or they'd be smart enough to see through all the lies you make up about the third dimension—"

"I'm not making it up!"

"Every week you talk about impossible places that can't exist! Either you're lying or insane—which is it?"

How could he answer that? He looked up into space, as if the distant stars only he saw could help him.

"Oh, don't do that, I hate when your eye goes white like that. It might impress your worshipers but it doesn't work on your mother, young triangle." She paced around him faster, coiling tighter, surrounding him on all sides in gold, her eye peering straight into his. "I don't care whether you're a liar or a lunatic—you're still my golden child, and everyone else will see that too as long as you tell them what we say. Nobody wants to hear that the third dimension is a dark, empty void! Tell them it's full of color and life! Tell them it's filled with the spirits of departed shapes, or messengers, divine guides, muses—"

"But it isn't! I don't care what they want it to be, it's not true! I'm trying to make them understand!" He had to make them understand, he needed somebody to understand. He thought he'd go insane if he was the only one who could see how empty and awful space was.

"I've listened to your gibberish about points of light and up-not-north for months and I don't understand it, so how can anyone else—"

"You're not trying to understand!" Space and all its vast emptiness was oh, so close, so achingly close. Pressing against everyone's bodies, breathing over their organs, lighting up those tight-coiled fibers beneath everyone's skin, shining on the bloody bones and thin muscles. "Either you're not listening or you're stupid!" How couldn't anyone else see space?

"How dare you—!"

How could they be close enough to touch it and still deny what it was?

Why was he the only freak who could bend up into it?

Her sharp tail cracked like a whip behind his base. "I'll teach you to talk back to me like that!"

His mind was feverish with anger, pulsing and roiling behind his eye—and for a moment, he wasn't afraid of anything.

She could bend and flex and coil, she was the most flexible line he'd ever seen. The doctors thought he might have inherited his ability to bend up-not-north from her, some genetic predisposition to flexibility. If he could bend UP, so could she. He'd make her. He'd force her. He'd show her.

He jammed his corner into her side. She shrieked, uncoiling from around him to scrunch around her wound. "Watch your— What are you—"

"You'll see," he said, shoving her against the wall, shoving her into a corner. "You'll see if it's the last thing you do!" It was like cramming a long rope into a short box; each time he shoved, she bent and curved and bent again.

"Stop—stop, it HURTS—"

He could see it in his mind's eye: if he kept pushing and pushing eventually there'd be no more room in two dimensional space for her to fill, and then she'd be forced to bend UP, up into the third dimension, all that open free space. Then she'dsee the dark, she'd see the far points of light—

"STOP!" She howled in pain. He kept pushing. She was out of room.

She didn't bend up.

He shoved—and she splintered. Bone snapping, cartilage tearing, he could see inside her thin body as things broke and ruptured.

He didn't know what to do.

And for several long, long seconds—he couldn't remember what was happening. The world seemed to bend wrong, rippling up-but-not-north and down-but-not-south, and his head swam and his vision blurred, and he couldn't remember.

Her skin fractured and peeled off, strand after strand. He’d seen grotesque injuries and rotting bodies before—he’d been in hospitals and seen through the bandages, been in graveyards and seen into the coffins, unable not to see though the doors and walls and tombs. He’d seen the way the skin came off, the way it split into hairy filaments as it loosened from the body, bristly around injuries or sloughed off whole from the long dead. But he'd never seen dead skin curl like his mother's, loosely zig-zagging back and forth and wrapping into spirals like the centers of flowers. It filled the spaces between his fingertips, wrapped up his arms. He could shut his eye but he still saw it through his eyelid, still felt it tickling at the corners of his mouth. 

Irrationally, wildly, hysterically, watching his mother die, he wondered—when he died, when he was a corpse, when he rotted—when his body split open in half from his burst eye, as the labyrinth of his guts bloated and unwound and inverted themselves to spill in sick threads from his mouth, and his skin peeled free, layer by hairy layer, from his eyelid out—would his rotting golden skin curl like his mother's had?

He knew it would. He knew it would. He knew it would.

####

He woke to moonlight streaming through curls upon curls of golden skin dangling in his eye, choking him on rot.

He squeezed his eyes shut, batted the hair aside, and forced himself to breathe until the nausea subsided.

He hated how humans dreamt.

He decided he didn't want any more sleep tonight.

He dragged himself upright, shambled downstairs, and tried to ignore the coils of his internal organs spilling out of his head and dangling around his face.

He needed a drink.

####

Ford woke up standing over a bed and a body.

He couldn't identify the shape or size of the body under the sheets, due to how badly it was contorted and the way the dark pools of blood in the bedsheets distorted the shadows. All he could see was the head: a flash of a pale cheek turned away, and the unmistakeable Pines hair curls. The hair was matted with blood.

Ford's hands were coated in hot blood and cold blue flames. There was a nauseating metallic taste in his mouth and something thick and warm dripping down his chin.

He heard a quiet chuckle. He whipped around to face it—

And saw himself reflected in a triangular window, a gray shade. He was smiling so widely he could see moonlight glinting off his molars. His slitted eyes glowed a sickly yellow.

Ford woke up staring at the ceiling. He licked his lips; reassuringly dry. He held up his hands; clean.

He sighed.

Ford could roll over and go back to sleep. He'd gotten used to dreams like this decades ago; these days he hardly even had them. But he was already awake and irritated. He might as well pick up where he'd left his research at dinner time—do something that felt productive. He got up, fished a crumpled paper that said "Downstairs" out of his bedside stand and set it next to Stan's glasses, and crept out of the guest room to head for the vending machine.

Bill was in the kitchen.

Ford stopped in the next room, staring through the doorway. Bill was sitting in the dark, only his silhouette visible in the light through the window. He was hunched over the kitchen table, supported on his elbows, unmoving. Ford couldn't see Bill's reflection in the window. Not even his eyes.

Ford wondered what he dreamed about. Perhaps the thrill of possessing people.

He was half tempted to confront Bill—demand to know what he was up to—but, Ford told himself, there was nothing to confront Bill for. They'd given him permission to use the kitchen freely. Bill wasn't up to anything. It was well within his rights to sit silently at the table in the dark.

Ford just didn't like it.

He crept into the living room. Bill never noticed him.

####

Dipper divided the nightmares he'd been having since last summer into two categories: the Bill nightmares; and the Bipper nightmares—which were, in a way, also Bill nightmares.

The Bill nightmares were just his regular nightmares, except that Bill was also in them. For Dipper, regular nightmares were a mishmash of fears, insecurities, chaos, and random weirdness. It was natural that Bill, the most terrifying entity Dipper had ever met, occasionally guest starred in his dreams. The problem was that, since Bill actually could invade dreams and always brought chaos and random weirdness in his wake, it was that much harder for Dipper to realize he was dreaming rather than actually facing Bill—and, once he woke up, harder for him to reassure himself it really was only a dream.

(Mabel told him she had similar problems, and it wasn't even limited to nightmares. Sometimes, no matter how sweet or unthreatening her dream was—and sometimes because it was so sweet—their erratic scene-changing logic-breaking wish-making nature gave her the creeping sense that she was trapped back in Mabeland. Not often, she said. But occasionally, when Dipper couldn't sleep either, he could hear her wake herself repeating "—I wanna go back to reality—I want to go back—go back to the real world," and then meow herself back to sleep.)

On the other hand, the Bipper nightmares were like no dreams he'd ever had before.

They might start out as normal nightmares—dreaming of a near death experience, or a monster charging at him, or some humiliation too deep to endure further sleeping through—until he jolted awake. Or he'd think he'd jolted awake—in truth, he'd just woken up into another dream, so realistic he thought he was awake until he realized he was hovering over his bed, and the world looked hazy and false, and his body was still beneath the covers. Just like when Bill had ripped him free of his body.

The first time he'd had the Bipper nightmare, Dipper thought Bill had taken over him again, and that at any moment his body would open its eyes and laugh at him. When that didn't happen, he thought he'd died. He'd flown to Mabel's room, to his parents', to Waddles, to the neighbors' houses, trying desperately to get someone's attention—and when nothing worked, he returned to his still body in despair and waited there, sure that in a few hours his parents would come to get him for school and find him dead...

But then he'd woken up. For real, this time. And then he woke the rest of the house with his screaming.

He learned to cope with these nightmares, both the Bill ones and the Bipper ones. He talked about them with Mabel during the day or went to her for reassurance at night. Sometimes he called Ford, if he and Stan were in a time zone where they'd still be awake. (Ford said he'd had nightmares for years about Bill invading his dreams—and almost none of them had been real. He said that his visits from Bill were usually less chaotic than a normal dream. Bill liked his weirdness but he liked being the center of attention more; he liked to stage his dreams like a movie director, keeping a firm grip on the setting and the narrative flow, snapping from location to location and moment to moment with an artistry that natural dreams didn't have. The muddled mundanity of your average nightmare was beneath Bill.)

And Dipper learned to wait out his Bipper nightmares. Sometimes he wandered the hallways, but he found that engaging with the dream tended to prolong it; instead, if he stayed by his body and didn't do anything, eventually he'd drift back into deep sleep and wake back up. He started keeping a radio on at night—he could hear it in his sleep—and listening to the weird 3 a.m. broadcasts kept him entertained enough until he woke.

####

But since returning to Gravity Falls, Dipper had found a new way to deal with his nightmares:

Yelling at Bill about them.

Tonight, he was having his guilt-dream about his dad asking why he'd given up kickboxing; until the dream was interrupted by Bill emerging from the refrigerator to announce that Weirdmageddon was opening a second location in Piedmont and then throw a rabid skunk at Dipper's face. Dipper had woken up too angry to think straight, stomped to Bill's empty window seat, and then stomped downstairs.

He found Bill sitting in the kitchen in the dark, washing down a bag of cookies with a pack of hard cider and staring out at the night. Dipper stopped in the doorway. "You!"

Bill turned to give Dipper a bleary-eyed look. "Me?" 

"Stop messing with my dreams and stay out of my head!"

"Beg pardon?" Bill's eyelids were desynchronized as he slowly blinked. "I'm just..." He gestured vaguely around the kitchen with a mostly-empty cider can. "I am just—sitting here."

"You've been in my nightmares all year," Dipper said hotly, even as he was waking up enough to realize that Bill, down here in the kitchen, probably wasn't influencing his dreams. "So just—just..." This was stupid. "Cut it out, man."

"You've been dreaming about me? How sweet." Bill gave Dipper a mocking grin, propped his chin in his hand, propped his elbow on the table, actually missed putting his elbow on the table by at least six inches, and fell to the ground with a yelp.

Dipper stared tiredly at Bill cackling on the floor, and turned around and trudged upstairs.

Dipper found that, whenever he had nightmares about golden geometric apocalypses, it was reassuring to get an instant reminder that Bill had been nowhere near his head. Even if he thought Bill was laying on the "helpless human" act a little thick.

####

(I'm still recovering from Health Junk, so if you've got any comments, I'd deeply appreciate them now even more than I usually do. Thank you, y'all readers and commenters and friends are really keeping me going during this time of feeling like a pile of half-sentient gunk. 🙏✨)

#gravity falls #bill cipher #human bill cipher #dipper pines #gravity falls fic #my writing #my art #bill goldilocks cipher

[lees-chaotic-brain]

It's 🌗 Anon again! I just have a crack (neon) version for Yuji (pink) with #4! (After specific age, you feel a tug to your soulmate.)

Yuji lives in Sendai & Reader lives in Tokyo, so pull is soft.

But after Yuji moves to Tokyo (after eating a finger), the pull is harder. And annoying.

Sometimes when they're far+ but close-, they trip to their direction.

Other times, when they're relatively far- & close+, they either fall on the floor thanks to the force, or accidentally jump two steps forward thanks to the force.

One day, after tripping and nearly falling on their face, they go to the park to relax. But when locked eyes, they're literally thrown at each other and roll down the small hill. (Reader on top and Yuji at bottom after landing.)

P.s. Reader's a jujutsu manager in training, so they meet a lot now.

-🌗 Anon

oh i can already feel my brain running off the rails with this one. i changed the scenario in the ask a little bit, sorry. anyways, i'm literally cackling at my own writing rn. hope you find the half as amusing as i did.

Attractive (Yuji x Reader)

CW: crack fic like idk what i'm on, swearing, reader is a little unhinged like me, characters ages don't make sense just go with it

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When you discovered that you had a soulmate on your sixteenth birthday, you were thrilled. So thrilled in fact, that you didn't stop to think about the repercussions of your soulmate trait being fucking magnetism.

At first, it was fine. A gentle tugging sensation once or twice a day was hardly bothersome. If anything it was comforting.

But a couple weeks after your birthday your soulmate must have moved closer or something, because the once gentle tugs were now a violent force that sent you careening into everything and anything at random moments throughout the day.

After four months of that, it would be an understatement to say that you were sick of randomly being yanked into walls, shoved onto your face, or suddenly stumbling back.

Your friends all did their best to help you to find your soulmate, but seeing as they were jujutsu managers in training and isolated on a small separate part of Tokyo Jujutsu Tech campus, there wasn't much they could do.

You decided to let it be, trusting fate to eventually unite you with your soulmate.

At least that's what you told yourself.

And it would be a lot easier to be content with that if your soulmate wasn't a fucking lunatic.

For reasons unknown to you, your soulmate was constantly changing speeds and directions at a whirlwind pace.

If there was a decent amount of distance between you two, the force wasn't too strong so while you staggered around in different directions for a few minutes during his sporadic bouts of insanity.

But when he was close to you it was a whole different story.

His hyperactive monkey routine would toss you around like a rag doll, sending you careening into walls, ceilings, and any of your good-intending friends trying to catch you or slow you down.

After the twenty third time it happened in one week (yes you counted), you decided enough was enough. You were going to get back at him.

Informing your friends about your revenge plot, you grinned maniacally.

Finally. You were going to give him a taste of his own medicine.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Yuji Itadori had no idea what was going on. Ever since he moved to Tokyo, he had been feeling the tug of his soulmate trait, but it had never been this strong.

Even at it's worst, the force had never been enough to make him more than stumble a little in one direction or another.

SO WHY THE FUCK WAS HE ZIPPING DOWN THE HALLWAY HEADFIRST AT 4:30 IN THE MORNING?!

Screeching like a banshee, he flailed, searching for anything to grab onto.

Woken by the noise, a half-asleep Fushiguro poked his head out into the hallway to see what was happening.

"FUSHIGUROOOOO!"

Yuji shrieked flying towards him.

"HELP MEEEEE."

Blinking, the sleepy raven haired boy rubbed his eyes again.

"It's too early for this."

He mumbled, retreating into his dorm again and closing the door behind him.

"YOU TRAI-"

THUNK.

The loud sound informed the said traitor that the wall at the end of the hallway had successfully stopped Yuji's crazed flight.

Hopefully he didn't break the wall.

Fushiguro thought to himself as he climbed back into bed and closed his eyes.

That would be really annoying.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

A couple more months had passed since your impromptu revenge flight courtesy of your friends cursed technique, and it was time for you class to go meet up with the first year jujutsu students so you could be paired up.

You were so excited to meet the person you were going to be paired up with for the remainder of you high school career, that you didn't notice your soulmate bond going crazy, making you trip even more than usual as you walked to where the two classes had decided to meet.

No, you didn't notice it until you arrived and made eye contact with a certain pink haired boy.

Then the two of you were flying at each other like super-charged magnets, the force of your collision knocking the two of you to the side and down a little nearby hill.

Tumbling down the hill, the two of you screeched and yelped as you bounced over little dips, sharp stones, and each other.

When the two of you finally rolled to a stop, your soulmate lay sprawled on his back with you draped haphazardly over him.

After taking a couple of seconds to catch your breath, you realized the position you were in and rolled off, a slight blush tinting your cheeks.

Groaning, the pink-haired boy sat up next to you rubbing his neck.

You made eye contact and he beamed.

"Hi there soulmate! I'm Itadori Yuji! What's your name?"

You told him, still in a state of semi-shock.

"That's a pretty name!"

He said with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Say, I never imagined that my soulmate would be this attractive."

And that ladies and gentlemen, is how you met your soulmate and boyfriend.

All it took was months of comedically timed yanking from your bond, and one god-awful pun.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

i'm so sorry for how unhinged this got. if you made it this far, thank you for reading the ridiculous crack fic.

<3 Lee

#crack fic #jjk crack #yuji x reader #itadori yuji x reader #crack crack crack #soulmate au #lee's brain writes #lee's 1 year anniversary event #jjk x reader #author is unhinged

[traitorleech]

taskmaster series 16 finale. it's here, guys! i am so not prepared to let the cast go. it's been a great time, though.

what the fuck has happened to sam's hair? & he's not in grey. he's finally got enough xp to unlock colour apparently.

ah. the live bit.

"fidgeting will otter a man down"

"but where are all these beavers"

untaffled.

"fair play to the boy" the live bit goes on.

"that's filthy, that's filthy, ... that's filthy" susan is me in a lot of situations.

ok, now i just think lucy's lost her fucking mind with that doughnut task. i am shocketh beyond anything. poor alex. but god damn he really ate it. i mean, i'm not surprised but gently disgusted, though as soon as i saw her in a bird's costume, i knew what was coming.

greg keeps bringing up that he and alex were to a wedding where he made him eat a pat of butter.

"i'm not the one who gobbled a beaver's anal gland" alex is on fire in this live episode.

oh my god i'm so in love with sue's doughnut task. i screamed when the doughnut hit.

julian making alex kneel. julian making alex kneel. i repeat. julian making alex kneel & then eating the doughnut & spitting it at alex.

susan is fucking insane.

"but once i'd started i knew he was gonna get it." thank you for your service, julian. i enjoyed it too much.

"let's gaffer me up real good"

THEY HAVE ALL LOST THEIR MINDS

oh are they gonna get dqed if they leave the work out mat? no. apparently not. i am gonna say missed opportunity but i think that would have made it less fun, actually.

sue beating alex up with a ball. on brand.

julian groaning. i am so sorry but i do find it quite erotic.

it was julian who's beating alex with the boxing gloves. oh my fucking god i wouldn't have believed it. my prediction was wrong.

why did they bleep what julian said. i wanna know what julian said (probably cunt or something)

alex in a leather jacket & black t-shirt is so hot. why is he stripping again?! ah. dressing gown.

"i prefer alex" a sentence that hasn't been said very often on this show. probably never.

susan dying over alex's forks and marbles.

oh my god i'm enjoying the sues way too much in the hotel task. they really should do a show where they're managing a bnb. i'd fucking watch it.

i'm cry-laughing right now. oh my god. my stomach hurts. i think the hotel task might be my favourite task of all time. hide the pineapple has been brought down (if this was my favourite before. don't know).

all three of them looking in on alex through the window. i don't know. cracks me up.

"nice legs" "i don't think that's appropriate"

oh my god. i think they annoyed each other so badly. alex didn't manage to be the difficult one. they all were. though greg was right with julian managing the lunatics & then making alex pay 300 quid.

"hello, cutie." greg throwing alex off once again via nicknames.

greg's really feeling the final task. so adorable.

"so it is possible, which is a relief" well...

they're all holding hands.

didn't think julian would win the episode. but he did pretty badly in the final task. but sam won. which was my prediction. so. yeah. and no more secret tasks. i really can't believe it's over. had so much fun watching it week to week, though i gotta admit that i know no one from the nyt line-up reveal.

#taskmaster #taskmaster spoilers #greg davies #alex horne #julian clary #lucy beaumont #susan wokoma #sam campbell #sue perkins

[animentality]

It's really funny to me when people tell me that they have never played baldur's gate 3, and have no idea what I'm talking about, but they're still interested in Durgetash and my fanfics anyway.

Like can you imagine not knowing jack shit about BG3, only what a deranged lunatic on the Internet is saying about their crack ship, and just vibing?

Absolutely insane.

They probably don't even know how crazy durgetash shippers are, because we literally go off one scene and a note.

They just know our ship is toxic, and they are on board.

Amazing.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #enver gortash #dark urge #durgetash #goretash

[jaylienpotter]

2nd of August Jegulus prompt: constant, by @jegulus-microfic

(Word count: 1,158 ok maybe this one isn't a microfic, I might've gone overboard, oops. Hope u still enjoy)

Enough

"Hey Reggie. I've been looking for you." James went up to kiss his boyfriend but was gently pushed away. "Did I do something…?"

"I can't- I can't deal with this…" Regulus's voice slightly broke, which was highly unusual for the youngest Black.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Jamie looked into Reg's eyes, looking for an answer.

"This- This constant pressure and fucking anxiety! I'm never good enough no matter what I do!" Potter was about to retaliate but the Slytherin was not finished "I'm not strong, nor resilient, nor dedicated enough for my mother. I'm not brave and good enough for my brother. I'm too closed off but then I'm ignored if I try to talk, I just- there's no winning! There's no fucking point! I just constantly disappoint everyone and I'm going to disappoint you eventually and you're going to fucking leave me like everyone else!" Icy blue eyes looked away from worried brown ones. He didn't want to cry. But fuck was it getting difficult.

"Hey, I'm not going to leave you…" A tanned hand reached to cup a pale face, but it was pushed away.

"You say that now! When the war begins you'll go back on your word." It was true. James Potter wouldn't have a death eater boyfriend, no matter how much he loved him.

"You just have to join us, or stay on the side lines. As long as you don't side with Voldemort." The bloody encouraging smile was infuriating and Regulus snapped.

"You don't fucking understand, Potter! It's not simple like that! I'm trapped! I'm fucking trapped! Dumbledore won't trust me even if I wanted to join you and my parents would come after me. After Sirius. After you! The only thing stopping them is having an heir!"

"Nothing will happen! We'll be careful!" That was such a load of bullshit. The Marauders? Being careful?! When have they ever?! They lived off adrenaline and recklessness.

"We both know you bloody won't. You lot are fucking insane, you will go head into the war without caring for the consequences!"

"We're doing what's right!"

"For you!" He didn't want to sound accusatory, but Potter wasn't able to see the other side of the coin. "And it's great you're doing it. But I can't!" Voice cracked, much like the boy speaking. "I would be putting you in danger and betraying my friends!" Barty, Evan… They didn't have much of a choice either. Barty could be a tad lunatic sometimes but he wasn't a bad person underneath. He had always been there for Reg. They all have.

"You shouldn't be friends with bloody death eaters to begin with!"

"You don't fucking get it Potter! You will never! You're not part of a purist family! You're not a Slytherin!"

"You're not your family! Nor your house!"

"We get marked as evil the moment the sorting hat shouts Slytherin! We get constant comments and looks! Even from you! You fucking hate Slytherins! I'm a bloody Slytherin, Potter!"

"But you're different-" No. He wasn't going to have this crap.

"I don't want to be a fucking exception! And I'm your exception! The rest of the school sees me as nothing but a blood purist who wants to kill muggles! I don't give a bloody shit about them! I don't care if someone has muggle parents or pureblood wizards ones! I just want to be left the fuck alone!"

"You can ignore them! All of them! Prove them different! Everyone can make their own choices!"

"Not all of us! Sirius only left our house alive because our mother knew she had me!" If Regulus wasn't there to 'save' the name of the House of Black, Sirius would have been a goner. But they simply couldn't seem to understand that! "Sirius didn't 'escape'. Our mother let him go. It was convenient for her. Not having to deal with him anymore. She won't have that courtesy with me."

"Dumbledore will protect you! He will help!" Black scoffed. Albus Dumbledore. The one thing he agreed with the purists was that he was fucking insane, disguised behind words of wisdom and kindness. When in reality, he didn't care. He didn't give a shit about anyone. Not his students, not the muggleborns, nobody. He would sacrifice all of his allies if he saw fit. If it gave him power. Even if he was fighting for a good cause, he wasn't so different from the Dark Lord himself.

"I will not trust that old rag with my life, James. I'm sorry but I won't." Round glasses were pushed up and red lips turned into a line.

"So that's it? You're going to give up?" The desire to both punch and kiss this tanned boy was unreal. Couldn't he fucking understand that Reggie was doing it for the best?! Again, he was never good enough. Not even for his bloody boyfriend.

"I knew this would happen. I'm fucking stupid. I shouldn't have allowed myself to fall for you. And I surely shouldn't have accepted to date you." Dark eyes widened and James bit his tongue.

"Wow… Wow! Really? Are you bloody for real?!"

"We're both going to get hurt, Potter. You will break from not saving me. I will break from losing you." What the Gryffindor didn't know is that it was already happening. The small boy had been slowly tearing apart for the last several weeks. Anticipating this moment. Because nothing good in his life could last.

"There's still time! I can still-"

"No, James! You can't!" Fucking hero complex that wouldn't move for anything. One person could never save everyone. They were wizards, not bloody superheroes. "Hate me for what I'm going to say if you want. But I'd rather kill dozens of people than get you or Sirius killed."

"Reggie…" The expression of the oldest boy wasn't readable. It could be sadness, fear, disappointment…

"I think it's best if we part ways." Their hearts breaking could possibly be heard through the hallways of the castle. A tragic story of two people who deeply loved each other but weren't meant to be. The unfairness of the world splitting the ground beneath them.

"No, don't do this…" The next words were spoken in a different tone. They were soft, caring, and tremendously melancholic.

"You can't save me, love." That had been the first time Reggie called James that. He thought it many times before. But never out loud. "And I will not drag you down with me. You were the best thing that has ever happened to me." As a goodbye, Regulus placed a tender kiss on James's lips. Barely kissed back. Too stunned to react. "Take care of my brother for me." Potter only snapped out of it when the love of his life was walking away.

"No, wait! Regulus! Reggie, please!" Disappearing into the shadows, the Slytherin slid down to the floor and cried and cried. No matter how much he cried, it wasn't enough.

#i'm sorry #might've slightly drifted away from the prompt? Who knows? #james potter #jegulus #marauders #marauders era #regulus black #regulus x james #starchaser #sunseeker #james x regulus #marauders fandom #dead gay wizards #harry potter marauders #the marauders #angst #marauders angst #sad marauders

[tavina-writes]

I'm going to ask you for LoCH trash answers! 10, 11, 14 and 16

ooooo LOCH!! :DDDD

10. what is the worst thing you want to become canon (character death, trash-ship, etc)

hmmm WELL I have always been fond of A-Heng Parrot Coma from 83. Which, okay to explain A-Heng Parrot Coma, we must first understand that Feng Heng (HYS's wife) is NOT 100% dead in 83 canon. Instead, she is just in a terrible coma that he has been planning to rescue her from in time for the JingRong wedding even for the past 15-16 years. And here he is, working hard to actually revive beloved A-Heng! Except! OYF invades the island to kill JingRong for #reasons and uhhh upon hearing Rong'er scream outside he abandons his wife to go save his daughter, screams like a demented madman while beating off OYF, and uhhh then has a bit of a mental breakdown about the now 200% dead A-Heng. For the record, Huang Rong thinks A-Heng is the name of her dad's beloved pet parrot who also died during this whole thing so she gets him another not talking parrot that she pretends is A-Heng to cheer him up. How HYS has not yet lost his mind and destroyed the island yet is ??? to me, BUT don't worry! there's more! Huang Rong discovers her mom's dead corpse and he has to tell Rong'er that actually, he was just a fucking lunatic who claimed mom was alive for all these years instead of telling Rong'er that she was dead, at which point Huang Rong has a meltdown and yells about how she HATES IT and would rather have just known THE TRUTH, and it's okay stop being deranged dad, lets actually bury mom all nice okay?

AS YOU CAN SEE this is my CATNIP I'm insane about this. I think it would improve the deranged HYS situation from the book if this were canonized. 83 HYS in general is just like the writer room's soggiest meow meow and they were all HYS apologists so canonizing their various antics would've been hilarious. 2 me. If we can't canonize the whole of A-Heng Parrot Coma, I propose we canonize that situation in 83 where HYS is trying to figure out where Rong'er is from Zhou Botong by asking him "where is my daughter???" and ZBT saying "oh how should I know where your daughter is?" to the whole audience of WYHL's ship. "You only have like, 10 thousand bastard hellions!" a situation that HYS is too deranged at the moment to disapprove.

11. what is your most sinful headcanon

my most sinful LOCH headcanon is actually proven in ROCH the sequel and that is that OYF and Hong Qigong should be shipped together. (For the record, they die laughing in each other's arms bc Qigong finally got OYF to remember who the hell he was again after several decades of insanity so I feel like this ship is already canon. To me. In my heart. It can't be disproven!)

14. What is ur crackiest crack ship

My crackiest crack ship is probably that Mei Chaofeng and Bao Xiruo should've been together. Maybe this would've fixed Yang Kang. And also let them leave WYHL behind. As is their right.

16. what is ur favourite ridiculous au

Hmmm this is something that @autumnslantern and I call "95% high school au" wherein most of the story takes place in the China part of LOCH, but I think it's definitely the situation where Huang Rong and Ke Zhen'e take an EXTENDED road trip towards Mongolia to find Guo Jing together because they're being chased by Yang Kang and OYF! Fun times!

:DDD thanks for the ask! I have lots of feelings about LOCH for sure.

#asks and answers #fandom trash questions ask game #legend of the condor heroes

[the-sixxth-sinner]

Mask of Sanity

Aviable on AO3

Fandoms: Mötley Crüe

Characters: Nikki Sixx

Word count: 2.5k

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Sex, drugs & violence; underage (implied) sex; non-con; exaggerated drug-induced psychosis. Proceed at own risk

Summary: Nikki goes batshit insane. Again. 

A/N: I first started writing this around when I was reading American Psycho, which was like, back in April 2021? It was my first smut ever and it made me cringe with every word I wrote down lol but looking back at it now, I think I didn’t do that bad of a job. For this reason, in fact, I promised myself I would try to finish it, years later. In conclusion, if you can read this you’re very lucky

I wanted to imitate both Ellis and Nikki’s writing style with this, and i used nothing but sheer will, fantasy and a quick skimming of the heroin diaries as my resources (other than American Psycho itself of course), so if its not accurate or you think i could've wrote it in a different way please bear in mind that i will not accept criticism, constructive or otherwise, at this hour. thanks <3

Knock. 

«Comin’» I enunciate from the other side of the room as I sniff up the last line of blow I put down on the bathroom’s counter.

It must be that chick the boys told me they’d send my way once they finished with her. I'm still not sure why I didn't want to join them in the fun... I told them I just wanted to be alone, have some peace and quiet. Yet, I’ve been pacing back and forth my hotel room the whole fucking time like a rabid mongrel in a rusty cage that is too small. I’ve downed maybe five Halcions with half of a JD bottle and a quarter of an eight-ball and it’s only 2 am. My brain feels like it’s running a hundred miles an hour and at the same time the outside world looks like it’s melting in slow motion just before my eyes. I'm starting to hear voices again. To hell with peace and quiet.

Knock knock.

«Ya, ya, I’m coming!» This is annoying. What’s the fucking rush?

I raise my head up taking a deep breath in. I glance at my reflection in the mirror, I try to relax my face muscles in order to not look like a complete lunatic. I exhale and roll my eyes; I give up: I don't think it’s working.

Knock.

Jesus Christ, do you want to get murdered?!

I move across the room with long strides. I feel my whole body jittery, my hands are shaking. I open the door abruptly. 

«Is this… Are you...» The chick looks both surprised and shocked. 

Shiiit, they fucked her up. She can’t stand straight without leaning on the door jamb, her voice is shaking, her makeup and hair is all ruined, her clothes half torn, her skin has been covered in bruises and God knows whose bodily fluids. She doesn’t look the age she wants to pass as.

«Sixx, yes.» I nod, cracking up the best smile that my mental state allows me.

She relaxes and clears her voice. «Tommy told me you were all alone, so… I thought I could pay you a visit» She smiles, raising the bottle of whiskey she had in her hand, trying to be as charming as possible. She gazes me up and down with her big shiny eyes. Rhinestone crystals drowned in alcohol.

I shrug. «I could use some company.» Thanks, T-Bone!

I wasn't planning to have anybody join me in my descent to madness, but something awakened in me as I glanced at this girl’s now ruined innocence. There's something so arousing about her desire to be completely destroyed and be a disappointment to her parents that I can't just back away.

I open the door wider to let her in. I check the hallway to make sure if there’s anybody else. «Are you alone?» I ask. 

«I mean, like, I came here with Vicky but I think she either passed out or choked on Tommy’s cock? I don’t think there’s any point in waiting for her...» she blathers.

«Don’t worry,» I wrap my arm around her shoulders. «You’re gonna do just fine…» 

The door closes behind us.

Cut.

I look at her as she strips in front of me, slowly, sensually, without breaking eye contact. Her movements are clumsy due to her drunkenness, but that’s what adds to her uninhibited charm. 

My vision gets hazy all of a sudden, as I watch her dance in slow motion, probably looking like somewhere between mesmerized and fucking stoned out of my mind. Yet, I feel restless, and I start to feel the instinct to jump onto her like an animal with its prey.

I get up from the bed and pick her up by her bare waist in a swift movement, which made her yelp in surprise. I throw her back on the mattress, rip the rest of the rags off her body and start going down on her, gently pulling her labia apart with two fingers and sucking on her clitoris and licking her juices. The girl bucks up her hips and moans in pleasure. I position myself better on my knees, then I pull her closer to the edge of the bed, grabbing her by the waist and making her spread her legs more. I press my hands down on her thighs, hugging her lap, and I bury my face into her heat. I lap her pussy up and down, groaning like a dog in heat, thrusting my face into it, going from wide licks to tracing small circles around her clit and penetrating her with my tongue, sucking off all her fluids that are pouring out like a delicious fountain of youth. I feel her losing control of her body, thrusting her hips against my face as she moans louder and I go faster, until my jaw hurts and I remain completely breathless.

«Please… please please please keep going!» she begs.

 I raise my gaze to her for a moment. I can hardly make out the silhouette of her biting her own fist. My mind is foggy, I can barely form coherent thoughts. But the whispers… Those are clear. I try to ignore them, concentrating on the task at hand of making her a slave to lust.

I bury my face between her legs once again, penetrating her with my fingers and tongue.

The girl’s moans and whimpers are slowly getting louder and higher in pitch, blending together with the voices in my head. I feel her getting tighter around my fingers, until she squirts all over my face.

«S-Sorry…» She murmured.

I stare at her for a few seconds. I let out a laugh, licking my lips.

I climb over her body. «Ready for round two, baby?» I whisper in her ear.

«Uh-huh…» She nodded.

Suddenly, I am hit with a wave of dizziness. My head is spinning and my fingers are tingling.

As I get up, I am met with a confused gaze.

«What are you…?»

«I’ll be back in a minute. Don’t move.» I winked at her.

I slam the bathroom door behind me, breathing heavily. I am sure I am about to throw up, but that satisfaction of vomiting your guts out never comes. I decide to take a line of zombie dust, so that if I do something awful to the girl, I won’t have the memory to regret it afterwards.

Cut. 

I enter the bedroom, where the girl is still laying in bed. I grab the Jack I left on the bedside table, and take a good swig of it, feeling it burn inside my throat. I hand out the bottle to her, in a “You want some?” gesture. She gladly accepts.

«Have you ever done blow before?» I ask her, as I sit on the bed and she drinks.

The girl shakes her head.

My eyes widen. «Didn’t Tommy share with you?»

«Nope.»

«Well…» I get up, pulling a bag out of my pocket. «You’re in luck, ‘cause I’m feelin’ very generous!» I grinned. I want to ruin you so bad...

She gasped in joy. «You’re the best, Nikki!»

I quickly prepared two lines to sniff, one for each of us.

Cut. 

I’m on top of her, fucking her tight pussy, grunting and panting like a beast. Her hands are all over me, and my back is covered in scratches. My mind is racing at a million thoughts per hour and I can’t grasp a single one of them. All I want in this moment is to fuck her, ruin her, use her, reduce her into a mindless sex toy for my own pleasure. I hear voices that I don’t know what they’re trying to tell me, I see shadows in the corner of my eyes that I don’t know what or who they belong to. Her moans are the only thing that snatch me back to reality, but soon even they become faint and the voices are more insistent.

I pull out.

The girl tosses a disappointed look at me, with languid eyes. «Nikki…» She stretches out her hand, trying to pull me closer. «Why did you stop…?»

With a jump so swift even I got surprised by my own mental alertness at that moment, I grab the girl by the jaw moving closer to her.

«Ask for it. Beg me. Say my name.» I demand grinding my teeth.

She swallows and has fear in her eyes. «Please. Please Nikki, please I beg of you» She lets out in a small voice.

I strengthen the grip, lifting her chin. I let out a beastly breath in her ear: «Not. Enough.»

She stares at me, her eyes wide in terror.

«I SAID NOT ENOUGH!» Nikki punched the girl with brutal force, making her scream in horror. He was breathing heavily, eyeballs out of the sockets in shock. A trickle of blood started running down the girl’s nostril. A drop of translucent fluid dropped on top of it. Nikki brought his hand to his face: it was his saliva. He was drooling like a rabid dog.

Nikki had his grip tight on her neck, and kept hitting her, making the blood flow on her face and her porcelain doll skin break, until her screams stopped. 

Nikki let go of her throat, his breath short from the violent frenzy. He looked down at his trembling hands, the knuckles stained in red, then he looked at the girl. Admiring the bloody mess on her face, Nikki felt his whole body tingling with an undefined sensation: he had a rush of adrenaline, horror and ecstasy all at once, but he wasn’t completely sure if those were the right sensations, the right terms for what he was perceiving. The voices were getting clearer and louder, telling him to do horrible things to her.

Nikki touched himself, to then enter inside her, and began thrusting.

The girl was slowly coming to her senses and as soon as she noticed that Nikki was violating her, she started screaming, kicking and pushing Nikki away with her hands, who promptly blocked her mouth with one hand and pointed his switchblade knife at her throat with the other. «Shh-shh. You wouldn’t want anyone to hear us, trust me…» He whispered, with a smile that hid the devil. 

Her eyes were filled with tears in supplication, her body paralyzed in fear.

Nikki forcefully pushed himself inside her. «You like that, huh?» The whole bed shook. Muffled sounds came out of her mouth. The blade touched her skin at every thrust. «You like being fucked by me until your insides hurt, don’t you?» He rammed once more and there were more suppressed cries.

He stopped for a moment and leaned closer to her: «Answer me.» Nikki breathed, baring his teeth. He pressed the knife against her jugular, cutting her skin. A trickle of blood streamed down her throat and chest.

The girl shook her head. Her whole body was trembling.

«Wrong answer.» He stabbed her in her stomach, making her cry in desperate pain like a wounded fawn.

Nikki traced a bloody line with the blade on her pale skin, stopping at the height of her heart. He could feel her breath accelerating more and more under his knife. He shot a glance at the girl, who had her eyes wide and pleading, with tears running down her cheeks, faint whimpers coming through her covered mouth.

«No one can hear you scream, you stupid slut.»

Nikki raised his armed hand.

The sound of the blade slicing through flesh.

A silent scream.

Blood gushing out of the girl’s breast.

Nikki pulled out the knife from the girl’s chest, and dug inside the wound. With the help of his switchblade, he ripped out her skin like fabric and then her heart, still pulsating, and observed it with fascination; he felt its warmth and weight in his hand and then he licked the blood dripping from the torn arteries. It tasted like death. Then, he dropped it to his knees.

Cut.

I wake up in the bathroom, with a massive headache and generally feeling like shit. I barely remember why I am here in the first place… I try to recall what happened a few hours before, but in vain. I take a glance at the toilet: it’s filled with vomit. Huh. Must’ve been a wild night. Getting up, I notice red stains all over the sink. What the hell…?

Suddenly, my heart is racing, my palms are sweating and I am scared to look at what’s behind the bathroom door, left ajar.

With a deep breath, I gather all the courage I have in my body, and I open the door.

Jesus Christ…

I slowly enter the trashed room, carefully, warily, like if there were landmines all over the pavement. There are red pentagrams and writings all over the walls. A real, human heart is taped at the head of the bed. Then, I see it: the body of a girl, lying lifeless on the mattress.

«What the hell… What the fucking hell!» I scream, recoiling against the wall, horrified at the realization of what I’ve done.

Knock knock knock.

«Sixx, get the fuck up! We have to leave in ten minutes!» Doc’s voice from the other side of the door made me have a fucking heart attack.

«Uh… Yeah, I’m coming, gimme a minute!» I try to sound as relaxed as possible but my heart is pounding in my throat and my voice is quivering. Just then, I realize my hands are still covered in blood. I quickly go to the sink to wash them, but they seem to never come clean. I come back to the bedroom, and I throw the windows open.

I need to get rid of this body.

I wrap the blood-stained bed sheets around the girl, almost throwing up from the anxiety and the smell and the guilt that are all eating me inside out like flesh-eating beetles. I pick the corpse up and bring it to one of the windows.

«I’m so sorry I did this to you.» I whisper, with tears in my eyes and a despaired tremble in my voice.

I throw the body out of the window.

I open the door of my hotel room and I am met with Doc’s stern gaze.

«You look like death. What happened?» He asks, squaring me off.

«Oh, nothing.» My eyes wander somewhere behind his shoulders. «Just a bad trip.»

I don’t think he bought it.

«Whatever, get your ass in the main hall.» Doc steps aside to let me come out of the room. «We have an important interview this morning: behave or I’ll send Fred to kill you.» He looks at me in the eyes, stressing the last words.

«Can’t promise anything.» I mumble.

«Excuse me?»

«I mean… Yessir.»

«Good boy.» He gives me a pat on the back and starts walking.

I follow him, glancing at the room one last time. I take a deep breath, trying to calm down, but I can’t shake off the sensation that someone is watching me behind my back.

#sinner writings #mötley crüe #nikki sixx #nikki sixx fanfiction #mötley crüe fanfiction #motley crue #motley crue fanfiction #yes i have serious problems i know #and i am ready to have all the shit thrown at me for that #and i cant blame you. however. i have my reasons okay. and sometimes those reasons are hhhrrgghnnnh insane men covered in blood........ #anyway to those who are as deranged as me: enjoy <3

[heliopauseentertainments]

Self-Rec Tag Game

I was tagged by @decepticonsuggestionbox

Rules: Share five of your works (art, writing, etc.). Then tag five people to share the things they made.

1. Something you absolutely adore.

2. Something that was challenging to create.

3. Something that makes you laugh (or smile).

4. Something that suprised you (in how it turned, in how much people liked it, etc.)

5. Something you want other people to see.

An Unintentional Voyage - A short MegaRatch novel loosely-based on the broader G1 setting where Megatron and Ratchet, through acts of stupidity and chance, are isolated in deep space on a shitty space shuttle. They have to work together to slowly make their way back to known space. It explores their personalities, how they relate to people broadly, how they relate to each other, and how they approach problem-solving and cooperation, all while exploring alien worlds and the challenges of being cooped up in the Cybertronian equivalent of a souped up Volkswagen bus. I absolutely adore this. It's the second fic novel I started, but the first I finished (because it's only 44k words). There isn't much MegaRatch content out there to start with and this one started as a challenge prompt, loosely inspired by The Way Forward by KottonKat, which you should also read.

2. Reforged - This is a very long MegaRod novel, inserted into the IDW1 MTMTE/LL timeline during the tiny "victory lap." It contains canon blending features and draws from various continuities for some of the lore.

While the A plot focuses on a very slowburn romance, the B plot focuses on unraveling a religious conspiracy and what it means to process guilt, all while expanding on and exploring Caminus as a setting, which did not get much canon development. It also contains Prowl painfully growing a conscience.

This one was difficult. Two years of "difficult." It was hard to juggle plot threads and keep a consistent narrative with appropriate pacing because I did not expect it to take this much space to develop this particular story.

But I'm glad I did it. I really enjoy the final result, despite the two major style changes that occurred in the course of writing it. The first 11 or so chapters even got full rewrites partway through to make the style changes less jarring. I'm proud of it.

3. Courtship Dances - A short quintuple TaraProwl drabble based on the mating dances of peacock spiders. This one cracks me up every time I look at it. It's just fucking ridiculous and I love for that. Read it and have a chuckle at Prowl suffering.

4. A Thousand Years - I made this as a one-off for MegOp Week one year. That year, I challenged myself to do a different continuity each day and I find TFP (and Aligned in general) pretty difficult to write for.

I was really surprised how much people really enjoyed it and apparently continue to enjoy it. It only just now got kicked off my "top 5 most hits" graph. I thought of it as a fun challenge, but then more than one person told me it was one of their comfort fics. That's insanely flattering! And a good reminder that you never know who is going to love your creations.

5. The Hollow Man - I wrote this horror novella at a fever-like pace in under a month like a lunatic. It addresses the implications of "what if the Magnus armor is Ultra Magnus's original body and what if that body is haunted?"

Readers inform me that it is spooky and unsettling.

I love it and want everyone to see it. I want to do more horror pieces and this one was so fun. It's one of the few pieces of my own writing that I actually go back and re-read for the pleasure of it.

It was inspired by headcanons from @tangentially-displaced & @decepti-thots

Tagging: (I'm trying to tag this time, please ignore if you do not wish to participate) @starvonnie, @bitegore, @tarklesbehindthescenes, @dramamelon, @weapon-up-wallflower

#admin post #long post #fic AUV #fic hollow #fic reforged

[catholic-character-tournament]

Round 2 - Resurrect Bracket (Losers Bracket) Side A

ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in sure and certain hope of the Resurrection to [make it to the finals]

Propaganda below ⬇️

Father Anderson

He’s probably on some kind of crack during the entirety of the series, I literally don't remember any aspects of him other than the fact that he just goes “AMENNNN” sometimes and has a habit of stabbing the shit out if anything that isn’t catholic. He’s the founder of deranged catholic bastard gaming, he has to be.

Semi immortal scottish priest who works for the vatican's secret vampire killing order. He can carry an absurd number of bayonets on his person and teleport using bible pages. Hates the protestants and has beef with Dracula at the point that while they are both fighting against the army of nazi vampires who are invading London he tries to kill him because Dracula makes himself vulnerabile. He's more than ready to lead a crusade against England but when his boss (who Anderson himself raised) admits that it's for a personal power grab and not for any kind of religious reason he dosen't hesitate to kill him in cold blood. Eventually dies after becoming an holy abomination by stabbing his hearth whit a piece of the cross

He’s so out of his mind he battles jacked up twink Count Dracula, AKA Alucard with bayonets. Not a rifle, just bayonets. He’s merciless, constantly spouting off bible quotes and speaking of his hate for Protestants. He’s a member of the Judas Iscariot Organization, Vatican Section XIII, within the Irish Catholic Church. He becomes so obsessed with his desire to kill the Vampire Alucard, formerly Dracula, he impales himself through the heart with the Nail of Helena in order to transform into a humanoid monster of holy thorns. Though his attempts fail, as Alucard rips his heart out and returns him to dust, Anderson is described as “his beloved rival”. He is complex, badass and wickedly devout.

Since Integra is a dirty protestant, i'm adding the actual catholics in the mix instead.

I’m sure you’ve gotten him by now but just so you know, this man fights Dracula on the regular for the Catholic Church and says “Amen” like a lunatic.

He’s probably on some kind of crack during the entirety of the series, I literally don't remember any aspects of him other than the fact that he just goes “AMENNNN” sometimes and has a habit of stabbing the shit out if anything that isn’t catholic. He’s the founder of deranged catholic bastard gaming, he has to be.

Tammy Propaganda:

Absolutely insane catholic girl. imagine a horse girl mixed with a boy band girl mixed with the girl from youth group with a bedazzled bible. that’s Tammy.

She’s a character from an somewhat-obscure play that is only mentioned briefly but the fandom loves her. Literally the only things we know about her from the play is that she’s catholic and likes boy bands.

#father anderson #alexander anderson #hellsing #hellsing ultimate #cct polls #tumblr tournament #tumblr bracket #tumblr polls #polls #r2losers #tammy edwards #legoland jacob richmond

[nebulein]

Australia. #1988. Please.

I was honestly drawing a blank here for the longest time. So, uh, this is my hail mary, born out of a desperate writer's brain grasping at straws. That's my only excuse. 😆

(send in your own prompt or read the other prompt fills)

~

The AC is busted.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Jonny, it's a million degrees in here and you're a clingy koala, go sleep in your own bed."

Pat doesn't take it well.

"If I'm a koala, what does that make you? The bamboo?"

Jonny makes no move to get up.

"That's pandas, koalas eat eucalyptus, dipshit."

"I've never been to China. We should go."

There's sweat running down Pat's ass crack. He's at the end of his rope here.

"You can go. To your bed. Over there. Right now."

"Fine."

Jonny huffs, but thankfully he moves, spurred on by Pat's elbows. They're bony, and they come in handy, especially when dealing with giant Canadian oafs who've never heard of personal space.

The peace lasts less than ten minutes.

Pat knows those noises. Fuck, he'd know them anywhere, he grew up with Jonny on the road.

"Are you jerking off?"

"Yeah."

Pat is gonna scream. Jonny's a fucking lunatic. Any day now Pat is gonna go and find himself a new boyfriend, one that isn't certified insane, and his life will be so much better. Just you watch.

Pat turns around, staring at Jonny, the dim outline of his arm moving under the zebra stripes of the shutters they'd closed.

"Why."

"Cause I'm horny."

It's entirely beyond Pat how anybody can be even thinking about sex. It's too hot to move, much less do something. Jonny's doing it though, hand moving up and down, making those tiny little grunts that used to drive Pat up the wall, listening to them in the dark of their room, closing his eyes and fervently wishing he'd be asleep for real, like Jonny assumed.

Pat swallows. His mouth is dry. This damned heat.

"That's not what you usually do when you're horny."

Jonny makes a noise, setting his feet against the bed so he has the leverage to fuck up into his fist.

"Yeah, well, usually I don't get exiled to fucking Australia by my own boyfriend."

He's such a drama queen. Pat scrolls down the search results on his phone in a desperate bid to preserve his sanity.

"You never said you were horny."

The other's bed kind of far away, more than an arm's length between them. Jonny's naked, of course, had shucked all his clothes the minute they figured out the AC was beyond repair and the hotel fully booked. Pat's wearing boxers, because what if there's a fire alarm.

"I'm always horny when I'm with you."

Which-- Okay, yeah. Jonny's usually up for it. It still makes something tug on the fishing line hooked to Pat's navel, something he's not quite willing to quantify.

Jonny sighs, shifting on the bed, leg falling away so Pat can see. He's using both hands now, one of them wrapped around his dick, pretty and stiff, a sight Pat's seen a million times and still hasn't tired of. His other hand, though, is kneading his balls, which means Jonny's gonna use two fingers to rub behind them next, likes a little pressure there. If this were Pat, he'd shove his fingers in Jonny's mouth, make him get them nice and wet, maybe even see how far in he could get one with just Jonny's spit to ease the way.

Pat realizes he's achingly hard, dick straining against the fabric of his boxers.

"Why don't you come back here?"

"No thanks, I like Australia."

Jonny is the single most insufferable person Pat knows. By a mile, by leagues, hell, by a whole fucking continent. It's truly unfortunate he had the bad taste to fall in love with this asshole.

Pat groans, heaving himself out of bed. Nothing for it. He loses his boxers on the way over, making a detour to Jonny's travel kit for the lube, and then knocks Jonny's hands away from his own dick before crawling on top of him. It's gratifying, the way Jonny's hands immediately come up to frame Pat's hips, drawing him into Jonny's lap, always hungry for contact, for more of Pat.

"We're gonna have sex," Pat announces, "and then I'm gonna have a cold shower and you can spend the rest of the night in your fucking prison colony, far away from me."

Jonny doesn't answer, already too busy licking the sweat off Pat's neck, hands greedily roaming over his body. Pat takes his silence as acquiescence.

He doesn't waste a lot of time on prep, just gets Jonny wet with a finger and slicks himself up. Jonny hums, foot knocking into Pat's back to hurry him along. Always so fucking impatient. There's sweat everywhere, skin sticking to each other wherever they touch. Pat gives himself a couple of tugs, keyed up enough from Jonny's little show that he won't need much. Not like Jonny, who likes to draw it out, always takes a while to really get into it.

"You know," Pat says conversationally, lining up for that first push inside, Jonny meeting him with a long exhale, legs drawn up. His quick Google search had really been quite interesting.

"Male koalas thrust exactly 42 times." He bottoms out, hands sliding across Jonny's thighs, everything slick with sweat. It really is too damn hot for this. 42 shouldn't take too long, though. Pat's really looking forward to that shower.

Jonny grunts, clenching around Pat, and then his eyes widen, taking in that interesting little tidbit Pat just dropped. At least he's always been quick on the uptake.

"Hope your koala genes are up for the task." Pat grins, leisurely drawing out, far enough that only the tip of his dick is still holding Jonny open.

And then he slams back in.

"One."

#fun fact i actually read that koala fact while googling #i have no idea if it's true #poor Pat has to put up with so much lol #he's totally gonna leave Jonny hanging #but he might be persuaded to be lenient when Jonny joins him in the shower #at least there it isn't so goddamn hot he feels like he's melting #1988 #hockey husbands #neb writes #smut sunday #taz19hagel38 #shout out to ann for helping me brainstorm #australia where the koalas are

[otthonzulles]

MC Mack x Al Kapone - Run yo mouth ('My last underground tape' / 1997)

Igazi Memphis finomság. Beateket felismerem csomó phonkból, nem véletlen. És mindig jó elmerülni ezeknek a szövegében is. Az "M-11" egy géppisztoly-típus, a 211 meg a rablás rendőrségi kódja. Hol lennék urbandictionary nélkül honestly.

[Intro: Kingpin Skinny Pimp & Koopsta Knicca] Run yo mouth, run yo mouth, run yo mouth, run yo mouth For ya niggas, for ya niggas, for ya niggas with some anna Run yo mouth, run yo mouth, run yo mouth, run yo mouth For ya niggas with some anna, I got a nine that you can handle

[Chorus: Kingpin Skinny Pimp & Koopsta Knicca] Run yo mouth, talk that shit, M-11, 211 For ya niggas with some anna, I got a nine that you can handle Run yo mouth, talk that shit, M-11, 211 For ya niggas with some anna, I got a nine that you can handle Run yo mouth, talk that shit, M-11, 211 For ya niggas with some anna, I got a nine that you can handle Run yo mouth, talk that shit, M-11, 211 For ya niggas with some anna, I got a nine that you can handle

[Verse 1: Al Kapone] Loced out, smoked out, like the Triple Six clique My mind has turned lunatic, ain't barin' none of this bullshit So drop it off ya ass, before I turn to Cypress Hill "Insane in the Brain", so deadbeats I kill at will I told you mothafuckaz that the streets ain't nothin' but a death trap Now they wanna lock a young nigga on Poplar and Dunlap, but mothafuck that Got my gat, ready to spray, bitch my name ain't O.J Trail me to my house and I'mma blow ya ass away! Tryna treat a nigga like a hunted animal So anything goes, now watch a nigga get scandalous hoe Shoot you right between yo' eyes, execution style Then take yo blood, write my name on the wall, murderous Scarface Al Kapone, spell it with a "K", for "killa" Releasin' 400 years of oppression every time I squeeze the fuckin' trigger It's do or die, and I'm ready to go to war Just like Tony Montana, bitch, so what the fuck you waitin' for?

[Chorus: Kingpin Skinny Pimp & Koopsta Knicca] Run yo mouth, talk that shit, M-11, 211 For ya niggas with some anna, I got a nine that you can handle Run yo mouth, talk that shit, M-11, 211 For ya niggas with some anna, I got a nine that you can handle Run yo mouth, talk that shit, M-11, 211 For ya niggas with some anna, I got a nine that you can handle Run yo mouth, talk that shit, M-11, 211 For ya niggas with some anna, I got a nine that you can handle

[Verse 2: M.C. Mack] Now it's the Mack up on this shit, I'm talkin' about you bustaz runnin' lip You poppin' game of lemon-lame, watermelons make me click You actin' like you down but when I come around yo' ass ain't down Run yo mouth just like a hoe, Mack don't even chief his dope With niggas like yo sissy-kind, bitch you ain't my fuckin' friend Nine bustas out of ten are dead, can't you comprehend? Hoppin' in the Jetta with them gold McLeans, with my thang On the seat, J-ass fools are starin' but they can't compete These niggas is flaugin' and fakin', they traitin' I told don't be havin' no feelings, just anotha leaf the Mack is rakin' North Memphis niggas, South Memphis niggas stay about our Honeycomb Cracka jack, watch yo back, trick we see you doin' wrong Hanging with us playaz, silly busta you'll get yo cranium cracked M.C. Mack is a pimpin' mack! Put that yalk thang to his back Brothers like the Macksta nigga always in the midst of a scandal Lay it down turn around, trick Mack got some you can handle

[Chorus: Kingpin Skinny Pimp & Koopsta Knicca] Run yo mouth, talk that shit, M-11, 211 For ya niggas with some anna, I got a nine that you can handle Run yo mouth, talk that shit, M-11, 211 For ya niggas with some anna, I got a nine that you can handle Run yo mouth, talk that shit, M-11, 211 For ya niggas with some anna, I got a nine that you can handle Run yo mouth, talk that shit, M-11, 211 For-for ya niggas with some anna, I got a nine that you can handle

#memphis #gansta rap #triple six #triple six mafia #kingpin skinny pimp #koopsta knicca #mc mack #al kapone #memphis rap #poplar and dunlap #SoundCloud

[ncumenia-archived]

Nina seeing a condom: What a strange-looking candy.

#i mean #I suppose in targon there are condom crafted with animal guts #but she'd never seen one in a PACKAGE #somebody call me out. I'm shitposting too much #suggestive #tw: suggestive #i’m not insane i’m just lunatic (crack)

[indigobackfire]

Red stained kiss.

I'll steal your breath

Like a twisted thief with a mangled glove

It's just my nature, I ruin love

3 days - Rhye

So this is a rewrite of this, which I wrote for April Prompts, if you wanna read it feel free but is bad and cringe and I changed my mind about the ending. I made it a little less than a thousand words longer and tried to add more details. Please excuse any grammatical errors. @harutherandomravenclaw here it is xD

Shipping: Indigo Silverwood x Barnaby Lee

Word Count: 3.9k+

Timeline: Some point at the beginning of y5.

TWs: fighting, cursing, blood, people getting hurt, some serious yearning, hormonal teenagers, angst all around, some things might be ooc in relation to Barnaby mostly part of my personal interpretation.

"What did you say about her?" Barnaby asks, turning to the cocky Gryffindor one year below them, Derek Vonner. Impressively snob for a muggleborn and infamous for his arrogant attitude. A Gryffindor she got in detention with Filch on more than one occasion, who instead of bettering his behavior, preferred to direct his anger at her.

Indigo and Chiara, who were having a chat in the courtyard with Barnaby and who also overheard the insults, share a look, but before they could say anything, the boy smirks and continues. "I said she's a lunatic and an imbecile." He looked straight at Indigo. "Your cursed vault insanity is bringing all of Gryffindor down, just like your brother did."

Indigo couldn't be bothered, it has been a while since someone last made this big of a fuss about the vaults and her brother, but then again, it isn't the first time. She’s somewhat hurt but not much fazed by it.

Barnaby stands like a wall between them. "Now, you offend her, you offend me."

Vonner smirks. "Is this a threat?"

"If you want it to be."

Indigo steps beside the two who are standing face to face. "Guys, please. He might've offended me, but dueling is still prohibited outside of the dueling club."

"Please, Barney," Chiara pleads with her soft voice.

"And I'm still Gryffindor's prefect so-"

"Silencio," Vonner casts nonchalantly with a flick of his wand towards Indigo. "Just shut up, will you?"

Barnaby becomes livid in a way nobody, not even the Slytherins, have ever seen him like, nostrils flared and eyes dark, gripping the smug Gryffindor's cardigan by the collar. While that happens, and more people surround them, Chiara undoes the silencing charm and makes sure she’s okay.

“You might look strong, but I’ve seen guys like you out there, all shell, no substance. I bet you can’t even hold your wand at the right end.”

“I can assure you I don’t only look strong. And I’m one of the best duellers in this school.”

“That’s what we’ll see.”

"Hey, I still mean it, no dueling!" Indigo shouts once she has her voice back.

"Why don't we resolve this the muggle way then?" Vonner suggests, if he was getting in trouble he at least wanted to make this worth it.

Barnaby doesn’t have much muggle blood in him, but they both knew what that meant. Chiara scoops closer to Indigo, afraid the boy might pull out a knife or something of sorts, but it was simpler than that. Good old fist fighting.

"Barney, please," Indigo says when she sees the shine in Barnaby's eyes — they were much alike in this aspect, always hungry for a fight — but he doesn’t look away from the boy.

“I don’t like hurting people, but for you, I’ll make an exception. Hold this for me.” He hands her his wand which she grabs unwillingly.

Indigo considers going to McGonagall or whichever professor she could find, but by the time she could find one, the fight would’ve already started and that would mean getting Barnaby in big trouble along with the problematic boy.

Vonner imitates Barnaby, offering his wand to one of his friends who are laughing excitedly at the scene. He also takes off his cardigan and cracks his knuckles to set the mood. Vonner, at least by the looks of it, seems like he could stand against Barnaby in a fight — reasonably toned and tall considering his age.

But too much of a show-off or perhaps influenced by too many fighting movies, as, while he bounces around and mumbled threats under his breath, Barnaby punches him cut and clean.

Chiara gasps, but Indigo has to hold back a laugh from how funny and gracious the punch was.

But the Gryffindor wouldn't stay down for long, swinging for the first time which Barnaby swerved, then again hitting him on the side of his face making a loud sound when his fist meets Barnaby’s jaw, the punch was strong enough to knock out someone weaker but there he stood only blinking to refocus himself. But it's when Barnaby moves his mandible with a loud click to get it back in place that everyone cringes.

The Slytherin then smiles in a way that would've fooled even Indigo into thinking he's a wicked boy, and in the timespan of raising his eyebrows while Vonner stepped forward for another punch, Barnaby swerves again, hitting him right on the stomach in a way it pulled sounds of wincing from the small crowd. Vonner curls to his knees with the pain.

"Seems I'm quite good at the muggle wa—"

Vonner thinks quickly and while Barnaby’s distracted, swipes a leg behind his feet and pulls him to fall on his back. Vonner straddles him and begins a punching fest that makes even Indigo's stomach turn. Barnaby's face becomes as wet and red as Godric Gryffindor's soul.

"Is the Silverwood bitch worth the beating, you stupid git!?" He shouted at Barnaby's face, nearly spitting.

But Lee is stronger and a single blind punch on the nose makes Vonner draw back. With a swift move of his leg, Barnaby inverts the scene and pushes the boy to the ground on his side punching his ear with force.

Vonner stops for a moment, protecting his ear from another hit, grunting in pain and dizziness.

Beside a light-headed Indigo, Chiara moans in agony ."Make them stop, Indigo. He could've damaged his ear!"

While Chiara's speaking, Vonner reacts and starts trying to retaliate without much success. With his face pressed down to the ground, his elbow sharply hits Barnaby on the side of his chest but it’s not enough to stop him, his foot awkwardly kicking Barnaby's leg, there isn't a chance for him. And Indigo knew that Barnaby had the strength to knock him out cold if he wished to — if he loses his control.

"Barnaby!" She shouts over the noise.

He looks at her with sweat dripping down his forehead, face still covered in blood, those tiny green eyes still sparkling, but he could clearly see the disappointment in her gold irises. He steps back leaving room for the boy to sit up, letting down his guns, to which Vonner responds by punching Barnaby straight on the mouth.

And before either of them can do something about it, a shout cuts through. "The cat's out of the box!" Which every Gryffindor knows what it means, McGonagall is making her way there.

And while most rush to get themselves as far away from the confusion as possible, the three friends and Vonner’s squad stand there frozen. Vonner stumbles his way out of the courtyard to the forest followed by his friends, and despite his terrible attitude, Chiara can't shut down the healer inside her.

"You mind if I go check on the boy?" She asks Indigo hastily. "I know you can take care of Barnaby but those idiots... I wanna check if his hearing is okay, he could've hurt his eardrum. And everything else.”

"No problem and don't worry about us, if he needs to see Madam Pomfrey, make sure he does."

Indigo kneels by Barnaby's side wiping as much of the blood off his face as she could with the sleeve of her dark sweater while Chiara runs after the others. “Shut your eyes, B.” She quickly pulls her wand out of her pocket. “Scourgify.”

His face is then covered in soap burning every pore of his face, he grunts curses while she apologizes. She then combines the water conjuring spell and the drying spell to make him at least presentable to McGonagall’s eyes, all that in record time. And even though the cuts burn, he makes sure to stay as motionless as he can while she works.

But he's still taking the blow from the punch, head pounding and eyes blinking, his torn lip resumes bleeding, red trailing down his chin — not to mention his nose and eyebrow where the fresh blood had superficially dried but still burned.

She helps him up then sits beside him by the fountain. "I'm sorry, Indigo," he mutters.

She softly runs a thumb over his bruised cheekbone making the purple fade to a greenish-yellow by the focus of her magic, whispering incantations under her breath. She tries and ignores his eyes that burn holes on her skin while she does so, but he couldn’t help but stare and feel the warmth of her attention and care.

"You are such an idiot, Barney."

He finally looks away. "I've been told that before."

She takes his ringless hand and tries to fade away the bruising the same way she did to his face with less success this time. "Haven't you done enough for me? Did you have to fight that boy?"

"I'll fight whoever I have to for you."

Indigo feels her face heating up and shifts her focus to his arm where it scraped against the stones of the courtyard's floor, a quick Episkey would fix that but this time she needed her wand. Except there wasn't time for her to reach for her wand, in the low murmur of the place, in which people are still watching the two of them from the outskirts, they can hear the tap of McGonagall's heels on the stones getting louder, his eyes wide.

"We are so screwed—" she began saying.

But with a single pull, Barnaby’s heart racing in such a way breathing became hard, gripping her arm, their lips met and with all the adrenaline overflowing in his bloodstream, he couldn't feel a drop of pain or shame, just the ecstasy of finally kissing her.

But the idea didn’t come out of thin air, Barnaby had spent a couple of weeks in London with his maternal grandma, and Penny knowing about this fact by letter, decided to take him out for a day doing muggle activities, and one of those was going to the movies, and Barnaby might not be able to recall most of it but one scene stuck to his brain when the film’s main characters, in an attempt to outwit the man going after them, lean against the wall and start kissing.

And all Indigo needed was a letterbox framing her to complete the effect in his eyes - the same excitement from when he had his eyes glued on that silver screen was there, intensified by the feelings he already cultivated.

And as he thought she'd pull back, instead her lips part a little, intentionally brushing against his, her hand holding onto the crook of his neck, the hair of his nape going up. In her stomach, the flutter of wings makes her dizzy as his lips move ever so softly over hers, the taste of his blood seeping through when she corresponds, taking the collar of his shirt in a fistful, a low hum coming from her throat. He smells like a combination of copper, soap, and sweat, yet the odd combination sends pleasing shivers down her spine.

Her hand rests on his chest and she could feel his heart pounding against her touch. A build-up of years, months, in which every second counts, but now means nothing, because he's kissing Indigo bloody Silverwood. He loosens his grip on her arm, hand slithering to her shoulder to hold her in place, while his head shifts. Mindlessly, he brings his tongue out to reach her lips meeting with the coppery tang of his blood.

She doesn’t know what she’s doing, only that her heart’s racing and he feels so good under her hands, and even the coppery and salty taste of his lips is making her stomach flutter.

Sheer excitement takes over her confusion, and she can't even tell what her name is, where they are, or why one of her best friends kissed her. But before the kiss could get too intense, tongues still daring to explore, she hears throat cleaning behind her in a tone too familiar.

It's the third time McGonagall has called their names when they finally attend, pulling away at once, her face in a frown Indigo knows too well. "What on Merlin's name is going on here? And what happened to you, Mr. Lee?!"

They're both breathless and speechless when they share a look, surprised by the red smear on each others’ faces — Barnaby’s stomach turn but in a good way, on her, it looked like smeared lipstick.

She turns to McGonagall against her eyes' desire to stay on Barnaby. “I punched him, Professor,” Indigo blurts out.

Minerva's eyes widen. "Wha— Punched him? What for?"

"Because—"

"I asked her. To punch me. I did.” Barnaby wipes the blood off his chin, not to much use. “I wanted to see what it felt like. The first time was too weak, so I asked her to do it again. She just went a little too hard on the last one, but it's okay," he spoke nearly without a pause.

She looks at Indigo flabbergasted. "Is that it, Miss Silverwood?"

Indigo didn’t want to lie to McGonagall, but if she knew Barnaby wrestled around with a Gryffindor under her prefect watch, she’d be enraged. "I didn't mean to hurt him, professor. We're friends after all. We were being idiots, to say the least."

"Mr. Lee is sweating like that because...?"

He swallows dry. "Because I'm hot?"

Indigo tries to stop a laugh that comes out anyways. “We were playing around, professor.”

She looks at them more confused than ever before, wondering what to make out of the scene and their explanation. She scanned the courtyard but everyone was making a not-so-good job of pretending to mind their own business. Yet people all around watched perplexed, some laughing, some anxious to see what Minerva would do to them.

"And the public display of... affection? Right here in the open of the courtyard?"

"That's my fault," Barnaby promptly says. "Couldn't help myself."

"Right… I'm not punishing you for the punch as it was… consensual, nor for the kissing as it isn't technically prohibited on school grounds, but for the scene you caused. This is no behavior for a prefect. Especially Gryffindor's prefect."

"I'm sorry, professor. I promise none of the sorts will ever happen again."

"I do hope so. Detention tonight for both, I'll send an owl with your due obligations."

"Sorry, professor," Barnaby says, looking down at his feet.

"Sure, Mr. Lee, just… clean yourselves up. And go see Madam Pomfrey at once, to make sure you’re not hurt.”

…

"This wasn't just a punch was it?" None of them dare to speak, but the bruising and wounds on his fists say it all. Madam Pomfrey shakes her head with a disapproving look across her face. "You're not one to get into trouble Mr. Lee, I'm disappointed."

"It was because of me! Don't blame him."

"Don’t try to take the blame for me, Indigo. I was defending her honor."

“Merlin! What honor? You’re teenagers!” She examines his face looking for injuries she might’ve missed. “Does it hurt anywhere else?”

“He elbowed me here,” he says, touching his ribcage.

Lift your shirt and let me see that, he does and Madam Pomfrey makes a sound. “For Merlin’s beard. Aren’t you feeling any pain?”

“Just a little.”

“Looks like you cracked a rib. Take off your shirt and lay down,” she says before walking to the cabinets.

Indigo also starts walking away as he begins taking off his sweater, but he notices even before is above his head. “Where you going?”

He looks at her with the eyes of a lost child, but it isn’t that she doesn’t care, but instead isn’t feeling emotionally prepared to see him shirtless after what went down between them. “Giving you some privacy.”

“I don’t mind. Please, dinnae leave me here alone.”

“Oh, I’ll just- I’ll take a look outside while you...” she stutters, walking towards the windows. But she barely pays attention to whatever’s outside as temptation to look back and peek takes over her thoughts.

“Miss Silverwood,” Madam Pomfrey calls after a moment.

Indigo walks back to them where Pomfrey is giving his chest a better look, an ugly yellow and purple bruise spreading from a spot under his left pectoral making her gasp. Ugly because she can even imagine how much it must hurt and Barnaby’s pretending like it doesn’t, but mesmerizing like a mixture of watercolors over wet paper.

“Miss Silverwood!” Madam Pomfrey calls for the second time while giving Barnaby a paper medicine cup with a sip of some green potion which he drinks making a face.

“What?” Indigo’s eyes are wide.

“In what world are you? I asked if you know about the boy Barnaby fought with.”

“Chiara went after him. I told her if he was too hurt, to bring him here.”

Pomona shakes her head. “Getting one of my best assistants in trouble, huh?” She makes elaborate wand movements over his ribcage. “Unus Ossum.”

Barnaby grunts for a moment while the spell takes effect but relaxes soon enough.

“So that is the bone mending spell?” Indigo asks, curiously watching his ribcage for any sign of the spell working but the bruises were still there.

“Yes, one of many, but I don’t want you attempting it. It’s a complicated spell and you can end up doing more harm than good if you do it wrong.” She gently presses on the place of the injury. “How is the pain?”

“Better. Thanks, Madam Pomfrey.”

“Well, I gave you the potion and I did what I could, now you wait here for a moment while it all takes effect. Don't go doing any high-impact activities for at least the next two days.” Then walks off to tend to the several other patients in the hospital wing.

Barnaby carefully sits up and barely notices Indigo’s eyes on him, blushing and watching every inch of skin move over muscle. She didn’t need to see him bare to understand the appeal of him and his figure, but it sure helps drive the point home. He looks at her and smiles but her eyes are fixed, a desolating expression on her face.

“Hey, hey,” he calls for her, who looks at his face, addled, “I’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, I know. I think you can... put your shirt on already. It’s cold in here.”

He promptly puts his shirt and sweater back on, occasionally peeked at by her inquisitive eyes. As much as the sight wasn’t an unpleasant one, the more she saw, the more she felt the urge to touch, not inappropriately, but like a child poking at something new. She never did or wanted to reach for somebody’s skin before like she wanted to do with him.

"I'm sorry for kissing you.” He says once he’s fully clothed. “I'm sorry. I was just… trying to make it seem like that's what we had been doing all along."

She sits on the edge of the bed. "And how did you plan to explain the blood and bruises?"

“I didn’t think about that… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” She ponders whether to tell him, it wasn’t so bad to kiss him but was afraid of how it would sound. “I’m happy you didn’t hurt yourself badly. Maybe this will show you that it’s not worth fighting because of petty arguments.”

“I didn’t fight with him because of a petty argument. He offended you!”

“I’m not worth getting in trouble for.”

“It’s not up to you to decide whether it is worth it or not. To me, you’re worth getting in trouble for.”

“I hate to see you getting hurt, even more because of me. Please, don’t do this to me. I can take my own blows.”

“I’m stronger than you.”

“Physically, obviously. But I’m also talking about taking bloody spells for me. I don’t want you to do that anymore.” Barnaby’s face shrunk in a pout while she spoke. “Now, don’t you give me those puppy eyes. Won’t work. Not that I’m not thankful for what you’ve done for me, but I meant it when I said, I hate to see you getting hurt.”

“And I hate to see the same happen to you. I would rather you be upset at me than seeing you hurt.”

“I guess this conversation is not going to take us anywhere.”

“Sorry I almost got you in trouble with McGonagall. Please don’t be mad at me.”

“I could never be mad at you.” Where strangers saw rough and tough, Indigo saw the soft inside, a heart so kind and generous, even if his strength showed otherwise. “Your kiss saved our asses from a whole lot more trouble. I mean I’m already in detention in the kitchen for who knows how long, but I guess she could make it worse.”

He smiles slowly and she can feel her insides turning gooey. “Hopefully, we’ll spend detention together.”

She smiles back. “Yeah, it’s better when we’re together, isn’t it?”

...

Indigo knew no subtleties, only black and white. Charlie didn't like her that way and it was clear to her, to anyone, and when she got together with Jae, he was blatant and direct, even if what happened was purely based on attraction and not a deeper feeling. Barnaby was harder to comprehend, he was like that with almost everyone, this kind and selfless and sweet, leaving her to wonder whether his actions were from a romantic standpoint or just his way of behaving towards a good friend.

She heard several times before from others how Barnaby was unsubtle and ungracious, but she knew him better than that. He was capable of subtlety and emotional intelligence that left her speechless. And speechless she was after that kiss.

She knew where misinterpretations could lead and kept those fresh feelings to herself, afraid an early confession could lead to awkwardness in their friendship in case he doesn't reciprocate. She had tried to completely pull away from Charlie to avoid this, but where she pulled, he pushed, and she had to lie about how strong those feelings were, that they were gone, that they could be friends, how that hurt her yet she survived.

But with Barnaby every link is gentle, every feeling at the edge of his skin, he wouldn't be able to hide the discomfort as well as Indigo hid her feelings for Charlie in the past.

Yes, he had kissed her, but she was aware she wasn’t the only one. She knew no details but word got around - because kissing Lee out of any other boy was noteworthy around Hogwarts - and it wasn’t such a rare occurrence, because, could she dare say it, Barnaby was very kissable. And yet…

She couldn’t lose him, she wouldn’t accept losing him. She wanted to believe she loved all her friends equally but Barnaby, Rowan, Ben, were sacred and she couldn’t let a slip pull any of them away from her. She’d shut her feelings down if that’s what it takes to keep Barnaby at arm’s length.

So they attend their detention along with Hagrid - a gesture of consideration from McGonagall’s part - and she doesn’t mention the kiss once, yet she lingers on the memory of his lips and his touch and his taste. Her mind holds on to every thought of him as if it had grown claws, a bird holding its prey, insides shivering from longing.

His lips bow, his eyes arrows, her heart pierced through like paper.

#I'll write Barnaby's 'point of view' of after the kiss in another story #i preferred to just focus on her to make it shorted #indigo×barnaby #barnaby lee #fanfic #indigo silverwood #fanfiction #barnago #hphm fanfiction

[thedrag0nking]

11: 58 P.M.

Koishi finally made it into where her former gatekeeper is, now it's time to finish this only to witnessed a horrific scene. What the old woman is hong Meiling covered in gruesome injuries she inflicted upon herself. Her own madness is too much to poor Meiling.

" O-OH MY GOD...! "

Hong Meiling turned around but instead of fighting and wanting to kill Koishi for the horrors she's done, she greeted her with kindness, she loved her new mistress and refuse to harm her, which is why she fighting her madness by harming herself, clawing and biting chunks of her own flesh and beating herself up.

" Y-You came Mistress, you came to end my suffering right...? "

Now it all make sense, she realized now that Meiling had harm the villager, and made a fake threat about killing his family just so Koishi can unleash her inner demon to kill her, end her pain by murder.

Like always Koishi couldn't kill nor harm the gatekeeper, not anymore. The old woman's own greatest weapon isn't her fists or her blade, no it's reason. She's tired of the sheer suffering of others, and she isn't the black dragon, nor Koisho Yakumo. She's just Koishi Komeiji.

" Meiling I refuse to kill you, I'm done running away from you. Everyday I kept seeing you in my dreams and it all started with me and you back at gensokyo, all for a damn fishing rod. Please Meiling, you have to stop yourself, you have full control of your body! The meiling I know and love doesn't let their insanity take over..! "

" Do you think I don't know that dear friend? Everyday ever thought of wanting to kill you, my neck kept bleeding. My own madness kept taking over, I tried fighting back I harm myself so many times you wouldn't believe it. You're the black dragon, no, you're my friend, I have already forgive you, I wanted you to end me quick and swift... "

" STOP, JUST STOP! "

The old woman shouted at Meiling shedding tears, from the worlds coming out of Meiling it drove her off the edge.

" Forget all that stupid title crap and just let me help you, it doesn't have to end like this, nor should it ever end in violence! Please meiling you're NOT well, no one will hurt you anymore! "

" There's nothing, you can do for me now Koishi - sama. You didn't kill me yet and now I want you to finish what you started. "

Hong meiling gave the old woman a thumbs up as she closes her eyes, shedding tears as her neck begins to bleed through her own bandages. The inner monster is crawling her way out, unleashed to settle the score.

Hong Meiling had removed her hat from her head, as she opened her eyes and gave her a sadistic smiling. Right now the old Meiling is gone, her lunatic and bloodthirsty self have appeared once again, to kill Koishi to reclaim the title of dragon, and for revenge for what the old woman did to her. She set her hand down as she cracked her knuckles, the old woman have brought this upon herself now she's going to finish it but not as the black dragon, but as Koishi, she must become true to herself in order to face her trauma.

" Clocks tickin' bitch ya' ready? "

" Yeah, I won't hold back... "

At this point Koishi asked herself is she truly deserve the happiness she regains, she kept seeing Meiling in her nightmares where it all began. No other person around her family terrifies her more than her. Her eyes closed shut as she gritted her teeth, clenching her fist. Tears flooding down on her face as she now must face the skeleton in the closet, it's time to put their pointless rivalry to an end. Her eyes flashed open as her left eye turns blood red, Koishi Komeiji the demon doll now enters the scene removing her hat and tossing it at the side.

" C'MON...! "

Hong Meiling grabs her own shirt tearing off entirely only to reveal that same gold dragon tattoo on her back. Now fully prepared and finally getting what she wanted she charged towards the old woman swimging her fist and striking her in the face but her attack was negated by Koishi grabbing her fist. retaliating, she punched her directly in the face knocking her back which she retaliated by slamming her face against hers. Koishi now grits her teeth as both she and Meiling slam their faces against each other, the fight now begins. It's Koishi Komeiji against the golden Dragon Hong Meiling, this time just like in the past she will not hold back to save her from her own madness.

Hong Meiling gave the old woman a wide grin on her face as her fists engulfs into the flames of a dragon, swinging them at the old woman, Koishi evades her fists three times before she took a punch in the face, despite this she kept going as she now goes ham against the gatekeeper delivering multiple blows all over her body, inflicting massive damage until she swung her body delivering a swift kick in the face knocking her out as she came collapsing on the floor. Meiling got up from the ground and viciously tackled the old woman on the ground, viciously beating her to a bloody pulp with her bare hands but due to Koishi's unrelenting Iron will the satori grabbed both of her wrist, using all her sheer strength to roll around Meiling on her back for Koishi to return the favor. Now ontop of her she gave Meiling the same beating over, over, and over until she grabs meiling pulling her as she then relentlessly headbutts her directly in her face three times. Before she can land another blow, Hong Meiling kicked her off as the two now just lay there on the ground, taking deep breathes until the two got up from the ground, Koishi wipes the blood off her lips as she try once more to end this with reason, knowing it's hopeless but it's worth a try.

" W-what's wrong? You weren't this sloppy since last time before you're holding back aren't you....? "

The satori realized that hong Meiling has become sloppy with her fighting, the old woman thinks that she's holding back on purpose so that Koishi can break and kill her which isn't the case at all, she now may have been sloppy but she's far from holding back.

Hong Meiling gritted her teeth in anger as she charged towards her with fury but she quickly evaded out of the way it to lift her entire leg up and crushes the gatekeeper with her foot from behind when she's not looking. After removing her foot off of her face she grabs her by the neck and slams her body on the ground. Hong Meiling burst out in maniacal laughter, not feeling any of the pain what's so ever. She got away from her as she watched her, standing up as she charged towards her once more, attacking the old woman but Koishi having enough of her she delivered her powerful tiger drop in ther chest, her fist collided into her chest which made the gatekeeper flinch, coughing blood on the floor. Meiling no longer have the will to fight against her, she suddenly gave up and passed out from her retaliation.

" M-MEILING...?! "

Koishi move her fist away and sets her down on the ground, worried that she killed her as she's shedding tears, shaking her gently.

#muse #tragedy in gold

[ncumenia-archived]

Nina while talking to an outsider: Very fluent, cold and quite arrogant.

Nina when she tries to be friends with someone: «DO YOU LIKE FROGS? YOU KNOW- THE RIBBIT RIBBIT FELLA-»

#I'm also like nina fwi #my rl friends call me chicken lady #aaaaaaa #i’m not insane i’m just lunatic (crack)

[ncumenia-archived]

Taps her foot in 5′2.

#nina: I'm not short. I'm differently tall #i’m not insane i’m just lunatic (crack)