#interested in what the majority was interested in and wore dark clothing sometimes. like.. hello. school shooter jokes? the way

[bylertruther]

some of you never grew up in a small conservative town as a (gay) nerd that was bullied, harassed, and excluded for years on end for not fitting in and for visibly and enthusiastically liking geek things—geek things that then branded you a satanist in everyone's eyes and as something Other, Lesser, and Undoubtedly Unworthy of Basic Human Decency even though you were literally just an actual child with harmless interests and not a satanist or an evil disgusting subhuman thing, and it shows.

you cannot apply modern views and beliefs to a show that is set in the eighties, especially not when it's set in conservative midwest eighties which is a whole other beast. being a socially awkward and nonconforming geek is something that people STILL get bullied for if you don't do it in a way that the majority deems "acceptable", especially if you live in a conservative, religious area.

your experiences are not universal and your inability to relate to a certain motif or story does not make it "lesser" or "bad writing."

#stranger things #mike wheeler #<- tagging and then disappearing into the mist again bc i don't like it here lol. #girls when they love stranger things because they finally see characters just like them with the same exact experiences written with such #care and respect for those that have been Deemed Other but people who have not had those experiences refuse to believe that they're #realistic and STILL happen to people bc if they're fortunate to have not gone through that then clearly that means that it doesn't exist #and if it does then it's not Traumatic Enough or a good enough plot to cause such inner turmoil in the characters who experience that #💥🛼 #i got bullied for being a nerd in the 2000s and 2010s. you can absolutely get bullied for being a nerd and being a nerd is enough reason #for social exile in some places. when dustin said that no one was nice to him or mike? when lucas said that girls laughed at them? and it's #all because they're deemed freaks and satanists for liking fantasy things? that's Real and it doesn't hurt any less just because you think #it's not a good enough reason to bully someone. #i was called a satanist to my face by adults. people acted like i was some Creature or whatever just because i liked fiction and wasn't #interested in what the majority was interested in and wore dark clothing sometimes. like.. hello. school shooter jokes? the way #that neurodivergent people get treated when they're visibly ''different'' and enjoy things passionately? the way that liking star wars was #a thing to ridicule until it suddenly became Acceptable and Popular to like? i feel like i'm living in a different reality than so many #people here with the way that they talk about certain things in this show. and don't even get me started on the way people approached #the angela and el situation.... #maybe just be glad that these things did not happen to you and stop acting like it's lesser or a bad story bc of that? just a thought.

[shirophantomvox]

First Date with Chrollo (Human Diary)

Hello everyone! I am back with another “First Date” post featuring the Prince of Darkness. This was an anon post but I can't find the ask anywhere! I have been watching JoJo’s Bizarre Adventures lately and it is a very interesting show. Dio turned into a zombie and he’s so mean to Joseph. Anyway, let’s get into the post. The end is a bit angst-y but I did that to take a slight turn from all Fluff. I hope you enjoy! Part 2 coming sometime this week.m

It is common knowledge that Chrollo loves to read many books. When he was a child, he had time to read and that provided a great source of comfort. Although he seems to be ruthless, every human has the ability to seek compatibility and compassion. Both Hisoka and Chrollo enjoy the romance genre except Hisoka prefers to watch movies while Chrollo loves to read stories. You've known Chrollo since elementary school. You were fortunate enough to be able to move out of Meteor City and attend a better elementary school. As a child, you were an outcast and made few friends but on occasion, Chrollo would see you at a local arcade. Of course, your mother paid for the both of you to have fun but once it was over, it broke your heart because you knew about the conditions he’d return to once he left.

As time went on, you entered college and decided to invite Chrollo on campus so he could be something like a driving force for future success. You’ve been accepted into Yorknew University planning on majoring in Computer Science with a minor in Digital Art. Reaching Chrollo posed a challenge. He never responded to a few messages but on the third try, he answered with an excited response.

“Please forgive me y/n for not responding soon enough. I am more than happy to visit you. I am proud of you and your accomplishments. I do not see myself as a college man but, hey, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it right? I’ll be in touch.”

-Chrollo

At exactly 7 PM on a calm Fall night, standing outside of the campus’ most prominent book store, you began to sweat and your makeup began to drip. Just as you were about to wipe it off, you heard a voice call your name.

“Y/n? Is that you?” He chuckled as he questioned your appearance.

Turning around, you jumped a little at the sight before you. This wasn’t the same Chrollo you remember, of course. He had grown several feet, his face was much sharper, his arms were much bigger, had a bandana tied on his forehead, and he had a few rings on. He was dressed in a white polo shirt, black pressed slacks and black dress shoes. It’s weird. It felt like an arrow was shot through your heart.

“Are you ok? You act as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I’m fine! I’m just---You--look…”

“Ah, I see. There’s no need to be flustered. I am the same as when we were kids.”

The Yorknew Sailor Store was designed something exactly like a Barnes and Noble except the walls were painted to match the school’s colors.

The bookstore had a perfectly designed Starbucks, with a wooden finish, black and brown metal tables, beige tile floor, and glass doors.

Chrollo immediately noticed the change in behavior, one he wasn’t used to.

The students were snooty according to him and reminded him of how the city council would act towards him, his family, and those who were like him.

First, you offered to buy him a drink. The good thing about Chrollo is that if you or anyone else offers to buy something, He will not reject it. There is no such thing as having too much pride regarding him.

“Do you drink coffee?”

“Of course I do,” he replied. “But I don’t think I’ve had any of these drinks. A Caramel Macchiato? That sounds good.”

“Order it then! That will give you just the right amount of energy for today’s reading!”

To you, this was just two friends reuniting with each other but something else told you that Chrollo thought it was something more. He only dressed up like this if he was going out with someone special and even then it wasn’t an expensive Polo Short, It was his best t-shirt and jeans.

It boggles your mind how Chrollo acquired his expensive clothing but maybe he obtained a great job and is able to make a living for himself.

“I’d like to order a Caramel Macchiato.”

“What’s the name for this drink?”

“Chrollo,” you responded.

“And for you?”

“I would like a caramel Frappuccino with soy milk and no whip cream.”

“Alright. That’ll be $15.00.”

Chrollo glanced at you wide-eyed.

“It’s ok. I got it.”

You take out your card to pay and as you move out of line you bend over to whisper in his ear. “Maybe you can pay for dinner though.”

He laughed and smiled. “Of course, y/n.”

The bookstore was full of comfortable furniture ranging from light blue, dark blue, white in the lounge area. Both of you decided to sit across from each other on the blue chairs that swallowed you both as you sat.

As he read, he’d point out any interesting points in the book. He got tired of yelling across the table, so he decided to share a chair with you. He could feel the heat radiating from your body.

It was almost obvious that you all were involuntarily flirting with each other. The school was full of couples but occasionally seeing the goofy couple was the highlight of everyone’s day.

“This man was so devoted to a woman that does not know that he exists.”

“Sounds pointless,” you say, still trying to read your book.

“Well, she knows he exists but she is ignoring him and making him look like a fool in front of everyone. He says that there is something about her that he has never seen in any woman.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s her eyes, smile, intelligence, the shape of her lips, and her perfume powder aroma. Those are things that drive men wild.”

You smiled and laughed but came to a quick halt when you felt something along the ridge of your neck made you still. The hair on your neck stood up still as the invading force came in contact with your skin. It was Chrollo grazing his nose against your skin, slightly sniffing in your aroma; slowly breathing in and out.

Closing your eyes couldn’t make your sudden arousal fade. At this point, nearly everybody was looking at you both and looked away. This behavior was innocent for college culture, but it was taken as a cute gesture rather than naughty.

You blush. It was quite surprising that your childhood friend viewed you as something of the sort. It was both flattering and scary.

There’s no denying that Chrollo is handsome but if you dated him and the relationship didn't last, it could ruin your friendship.

At this point, Chrollo had his right arm resting lazily behind your back as his head and next aimed in a position that would allow his nose to lay carelessly on your neck.

“You smell delightful. I didn’t know you wore such expensive perfume. Is it….,” He sniffs again, “Flower Rose?”

“Yes! How did you know? Does your mother wear it?”

“She does now. I bought it for her a week ago and now the guys in the city can’t stay off her.”

Wow. The City. Even though it was a hell hole, it was your hell hole. How is everything? How is your mother? How did you manage to have such an expensive taste in clothing and fragrance?

Chrollo enjoys making others flustered. It's amusing to see them stutter when they’re either aroused or nervous.

On the flip side, seeing Chrollo flustered was the highlight of the century! The bad guys are used to being “bad” but expressing softer emotions makes it amazing and a reminder that they can experience them too.

Grabbing Chrollo’s left hand, you gently kiss it a few times and wink at him. He smiled, hiding his dumbfounded expression, and blushed slightly.

“I see you catch on quick.”

“I was raised in Meteor City. Just because I’m here doesn't mean I have forgotten where I come from. But I didn’t know you liked me.”

“You were the only one that trusted me and played with me when no one would.”

It felt like two magnets were pulling you closer. If he kissed you right here right now, you could just melt into a puddle but before anything happened, Chrollo’s phone rang loud and echoed throughout the bookstore.

Glancing at his phone, you saw an unknown number call, and judging from his actions he stood quickly to his feet.

“I’ll only be gone for a second.”

Hmm. That was odd. During this short intermission, you continue to read your book. Ironic enough, you weren’t into romance novels per se, you enjoyed action and comedy books!

Once Chrollo returned, his face was flushed and his soft demeanor had suddenly disappeared. He looked as if he was going to punch a wall.

“What’s wrong, Chrollo?”

He glanced at you with a somber smile, hoping to convince you that he was alright. “I am fine, y/n.”

“Are you sure?”

“Well, if you count my mother being seriously injured, then yes.”

“Oh no! We can leave now, it’s fine.”

“No, it's ok. She wouldn’t want me to leave you all by yourself at this time of day.” He pointed to the night sky.

Wow! That was quick!

“What do you mean?”

“My mother predicted that I could end up with you...she also predicted that someone would be hurt or in danger if that prophecy was fulfilled. It’s sort of like give or take. In order to make someone happy, someone has to surrender their happiness and I guess it was her.”

A single tear dropped down his cheek and nothing more. He didn’t care if other men singled out his “weakness” because he’d destroy them all and he didn’t want y/n to know about his abilities until later.

The comfort of your warmth against his head provided more than comfort. He felt safe, welcomed, not judged, and vulnerable. He knew that you wouldn’t make him out to be a bad person but instead welcome him home with open arms. You were his human diary.

#hunter x hunter headcanons #hunter x 1999 #hunter x hunter #hunter x meme #hunter x reader #hunter x 2011 #chrollo x reader #chrollo x you #chrollo x y/n #hisoka x y/n #hisoka x reader #hisoka fluff #hisoka morrow #hunter x hunter x y/n #chrollo lucifer #hxh fandom #hxh 2011 #hxh reader #hxh hisoka #hxh illumi #hunter x hunter imagines #hunter x hunter fan fiction #y/n #hxh fanart

[misterewrites]

A Part of Something Bigger (Welcome to the Underground!)

Hello everyone! E here, hoping you are safe and sound and doing good! The new chapter of the Underground is here and I'm excited for this and the next chapter. I am so happy I finally get to reveal something I’ve had in my head since I first started creating the Underground! Man am I cheek E. oh puns, I’m terrible. 

:D

I hope you are all have a great week! Stay safe, wash your hands, take care of each other, get the vaccine if you can, push for companies to give it world wide all that jazz. Feel free to comment (I love feedback) tell your friends, reblog I appreciate it all!

If you’re new and curious what the heck I’m talking about, feel free to check out the whole story and have access to my other work right in the link below (cuz I’m 95% Tumblr has shadowbanned me) 

https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrE42/pseuds/MrE42

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814297/chapters/68094967 (first chapter)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814297/chapters/78927370 (latest chapter) 

Have a great week, E is out!

Summary:  Turns out Oliver is a part of the Choir, a secret organization that operates within the Underground. Something big is happening tonight and It's up to Oliver and his allies to ensure it does not. However, the bard has to figure out what's going on before anything else.

-----

Oliver had been many things in the 18 years of his begrudging existence: An orphan, a thief, a con-kid, hopelessly in love, a scout, fry cook that one week and an aspiring minstrel. Many masks and different roles to survive each new day.

The one he took a quiet pride in was being a member of the Choir, a secret organization whose goal was to keep the Underground free from malicious and devious intent.

Every society had their dark, treacherous shadows where evil did its business (Oliver assumed. He only really ever lived in the Underground but you know universal constants and such.) The Choir’s purpose was to ensure those plans never came to fruition.

Rather than being an openly known identity, the Choir was more a loose collection of independent agents operating under secrecy. The organization employed any and everyone who was willing to fight for the cause, each in their own way: Merchants passed coded information, tavernkeepers offered safe havens, those with some level of magical proficiency gathered to study abnormal phenomenon. Fighters fought, clerics healed with lords and ladies used their influence for the greater good.

Sometimes, as is the case now, one individual was too limited for what was required of the organization’s purpose. In these rare moments, agents were granted permission to request help, often leaving hidden messages and imagery for other wandering members to respond to.

That’s what brought Oliver here to this dark alley in the middle of the night: When he first arrived to the capital, he caught sight of the coded symbol asking for any Choir member to lend their skill set to a mission tonight. No details added but that was par for the course.

Terri was the first to recover, her slivers eyes wide with wonder “A soprano? No joke?!Flora, he’s like you!”

Terri was tall, taller than anyone else here. She wore a red vest with torn off sleeves, probably because her muscles were too thick to actually allow them to exist in the first place. Her long jet black hair was elegantly tied into braids with her dark blue leggings tucked into thick hiking boots.

Flora pursed her lips thoughtfully, irises of lavender giving Oliver a curious look “A fellow magic user? Interesting. Wizard?”

“Bard” Oliver corrected “You?”

“Druid.” Flora spoke before drifting into an uncomfortable silence. Oliver suspected she wasn’t impressed by his response.

Flora seemed unassuming but Oliver knew better than to be lured in by appearances: Long silvery hair with petals of green and yellow flowers scattered within. She wore a white blouse with splotches of brown dirt and a long green skirt. Her feet were bare and free to be soiled by the floor.

Terri rushed over to the petrified Tyrell, dragging him into a bone crunching hug “Tyrell here is a baritone like me!”

Tyrell, the youngest beside Oliver, shifted his brown eyes away from anyone’s gaze. He wore rather well kept clothes: A tunic of purple tucked under a leather vest, his leggings were dark gray that blended fairly well in the darkness. His footwear seemed a little too fancy to be workman’s shoes.

“Fighters” Oliver nodded in understanding “Always useful. And you mysterious stranger in the darkness?”

The cloaked figure had pulled back deeper into the shadows, red eyes gleaming in the shades of night. They were trying to hard to hide their appearance but Oliver caught sight of a smooth featureless bronze face. Metallic armor of a matching color and sheen covered the rest of their body, an automaton it seems.

“You may call me Sel. I’m a tenor.” the figure responded, their voice tinged with scratchy static.

“You are going very useful. Lockpicking?”

Sel shrugged casually “Among other less savory techniques. As per usual for tenors.”

Oliver nodded “Okay, fill me in.”

Flora took a step forward, pulling a letter out of her pocket as she did so “Are you aware of one Reiner Brambleoak?”

“Oh fucking hell” Oliver rubbed his eyes tiredly “Him again? What’s he planning this time: Gonna burn an orphanage? Or maybe sell moldy food to the poor? Wait, I know!” Oliver snapped his finger “He’s going to be a terrible piece of shit.”

“Right on the money!” Terri growled.

Sel let out a mechanical click “He is planning to tear down several homes in West Haven.”

Oliver narrowed his eyes “I thought it was illegal to tear down homes in that area?”

“Not if the owners signed them over.” Flora explained “Then he would have the authority to do whatever he wished with them.”

“Let me guess, he tricked them?”

Terri flexed her muscles angrily “His representatives would change languages and double talk when they spoke to the poor folks. Most hadn’t the slightest idea what was going on and the orc thugs his people brought didn’t exactly make them feel warm and safe.”

“So.” Oliver stretched his arms “He’s strong armed his way into property, going to evict helpless folks onto the street and probably fill them with his own thugs to get the rest of the neighborhood to fall in line.”

“Unless we stop him.” Sel spoke with righteous fury.

“Tonight.” Oliver chimed in “Throwing another party?”

“You are good.” Tyrell whistled.

Oliver gave a playful wink “Naturally. What’s the plan?”

Flora reached into her pack and handed Oliver a letter: it was written in such a fancy hand he swore he was getting a headache just looking at it.

“One for each of us.” Flora explained, distributing the rest to the others “A fellow Choir member secured these tonight’s mission.”

“Helpful. Alright here’s the plan….”

“Wait” Flora interrupted “Who said you are in charge bard?”

“Me” Oliver countered with a grin “Because I’ve been to these types of festivities. Have any of you?”

Flora opened her mouth then promptly closed it, irritation in her glance. Tyrell gave a sheepish but unhelpful smile, Sel remained silent while Terri gave a thoughtful scratch of her chin.

“Thought so.” Oliver tried to keep the smugness out of his voice “Look we just need to work together for tonight.”

“Agreed.” Flora spoke with a softness that did not match her glare.

Sel inched closer to the group “What is the plan Oliver?”

“Where’s the party? Merchant Ward? I assume he’s using his office to host it.”

“Correct” Sel confirmed “His office has been chosen as the venue. He claims to be throwing the party as some sort of fundraiser for a charity that is no doubt a front for his illegal operations.”

Terri huffed, crossing her arms furiously “Probably making some more deals to trick people out of their hard earn money.”

“Without a doubt” Oliver agreed “But without any hard proof, we’re not taking him down tonight. Our mission is to ensure those contracts he forced people to sign mysteriously disappear.”

“Will that actually stop him?” Tyrell frowned unhappily “What’s stop him from forging new ones? Or just bullying people again?”

“He can’t forge new ones” Oliver explained carefully “They’re a special type of document only found here in Haven’s Nest. You can only get them from city hall and they’re magically enchanted to be untamperable with. He’ll need to get the ones he has to city hall on open court day which I assume is soon.”

“Indeed. Tomorrow in fact.”

Oliver continued on “So since open court day is the only day any major changes are allowed to be introduced to the city, if we grab them he’ll have to wait a month for another chance of snatching up that land. He’ll no doubt try to bully the folks again but now that they know what he’s up to, hopefully they’ll won’t be as easily pressured and if a few rough looking folks who can take punches and give them back start hanging around the neighborhood when his goons come knocking again…”

“They’re gonna be less eager” Terri cracked her knuckles cheerfully, already savoring the feel of bruised skin and broken bones that would bless her hands.

Oliver caught Tyrell’s eyes “One problem at a time. If you look at the mountain, you’re going to get scared.”

Tyrell nodded timidly in agreement.

“So.” Sel’s voice crackled with curiosity “What is the plan bard?”

Oliver closed his eyes, mentally mapping out the Brambleoak bank: three stories of corrupted, immoral finance who preyed on the helpless and lost. He could still see the faded green hue and cracked paint of the building in his mind’s eye. The ground floor would no doubt be where the bulk of the party would be taking place: a large space with an elevated stage normally reserved for long winded speeches could easily repurposed for a band or some sort of entertainment. His guests would range from any and everyone with any amount of influence or wealth. The second floor were the offices of his lecherous employees while his office took up the entirety of the third floor.

“Alright” Oliver spoke after a moment “I have a good idea what to expect. We’re going to break up into two teams.”

Everyone stared him expectedly.

Oliver gestured to Terri and Tyrell “You two are going to hang out at the bar across the street: The Stinkeye. Charming place, ran by a former pirate captain. Sunday is sea shanty night I think."

“Whoa, wait a minute” Terri grumbled unhappily “I am not letting Flora go into that place without me! It’s enemy turf and I don’t feel comfortable with the idea."

Flora took Terri’s hand within her own “Agreed sweetie.”

“Look this isn’t exactly a fist loaded, knives out situation. Any sort of brawling inside will be dealt with swiftly and painfully. Brambleoak doesn’t like anything scaring away the prey and causing a scene inside won’t accomplish anything. Outside, however.”

Terri’s eyes knowingly sparkled, Tyrell just looked dumbfounded.

Oliver gestured with his hand, muttering a phrase under his breath as magic formed around his hand in a golden light. A small image appeared in his palm: A heavily scarred elf with ashy blonde hair, one eye a brilliant forest green the other dull and cloudy. He wore an elegant officer’s uniform, dark green with various medals pinned to his chest with a long flowing red cape that trailed behind.

Oliver opened mouth to speak but Terri’s low snarl beat him to the punch.

“Lea Foot.”

“Acquaintance I guess?””

Flora nodded, gently squeezing Terri’s hand to get her to calm down “Lea has been a constant thorn in our sides. I believe he suspects we are a part of some greater organization. He has never seen us but he sends his underlings to bully us.”

“So I don’t need to explain his whole mercenaries for hire deal. Been exclusive to Brambleoak for a while now.”

“Can I punch him?” Terri murmured darkly.

“Yes, can she?” Flora chimed in, unable to keep the plead out of her voice.

Oliver shook his head “Maybe but we’ll see. He’s gotta show up at some point but I doubt he’ll be there right at the start. Likes to push old people around, probably eat a child or two before ‘working.’ Your job is to keep him distracted at all costs. He’s a sick man that likes to watch a good fight and the longer he’s out there, the better chance we’ll have.”

Sel tilted their head quizzically “Why is it important to keep him outside?”

“Basically” Oliver cracked his fingers “He’s very perceptive and the person most likely to catch our plan in action. His crew is made up of a nobodies with a perchance for cruelty and a thirst for violence but Lea is an old hand. Keeping himself outside is the best chance for success and if you guys accidentally get too close and managed to stray a hit his way…”

Terri chuckled manically the idea. Tyrell just looked sick.

“Meanwhile Flora, Sel and I will be inside. We’ll be looking for a chance to get Sel into the stairway so he can break into Brambleoak’s office. Without any sort of information, there’s no point to flesh out a full plan but we’ll make it up as we go. It’s a giant party of people who think they’re special. Shouldn’t be too hard to cause some drama and distractions.”

Flora said silent for a moment before speaking up “It’s not a lot to work with but admittedly better than anything I would’ve come up with.”

“Agreed.” Sel added “Without proper intel, it would be pointless to attempt to formulate any sort of long term plan. This works best to our strengths. Wait and create an opportunity,”

“That’s on us.” Oliver cut in “Your job is to get in and out. Preferably without being seen but who knows what will happen.”

The group, previously lost and anxious, glowed with renew sense of purpose and determination: 10 minutes ago they had no plan and now they were ready to do what they signed up for.

“Get ready team” Oliver gestured about “We leave in five.”

Everyone broke away to prepare for the mission: Terri cracked every bone in her body, ready for any brawl she would start. Sel slunk back into the shadows and remained still among the darkness. Tyrell held leaned unevenly against the brick building nearby, trying to steady his breathing.

Flora, on the other hand, approached Oliver, her voice dropping to a whisper.

“Oliver.”

“Flora.”

“I have a question for you.”

Oliver was confused “I’m not sure what about but go ahead.”

Flora pursed her lips “You were coming from West End, delivering a package to a Choir member out there correct?”

“Yeeeeees.” Oliver unsure where this was going “The old man. Lady Rozalin said it was the upmost importance.”

Flora bit her cheek nervously “Before you left, did you see him?”

His stomach turned cold as he remembered how uneasy he felt the day he left with Archie and Abigail, the chill that ran down his spine “No, why?”

“We haven’t been able to contact him. He is not responding to our wizards long range message spells. We’re…..worried.”

Oliver could feel his skin crawl with anxiety, his pulse raced as a horrible realization dawned on him.

“He’s missing.” Oliver spoke what Flora did not.

She nodded in response “As a high ranking member, he is important to our cause and since you were the last person to see him, the higher ups were wondering if anything suspicious happened the last day you spoke with him.”

Oliver remembered it clearly: The free money, rushing them out the door, his ‘tiredness.’ There was no such thing as free money in his mentor’s eyes and Roland was never known for pushing a guest out of his house or being tired in the middle of the day. He was attempting to get them to leave to prevent something from happening.

“He was acting weird.” Oliver admitted “At the time I found it strange but he gave me little room to argue. Now I’m wishing I had.”

Flora’s face was indifferent but Oliver could hear the sincerity in her voice “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this. If you need a moment…”

“No” Oliver cut her off quickly “I’m good. We have a mission to do and we need to focus on that now. Afterwards we can talk about finding out what happened to the old man.”

Flora gave a simple nod before wandering over to Terri’s side, lightly kissing her cheek with affection.

Oliver took a deep calming breath: There was no point to let his mind wander, to worry about things out of his control. Even if he wanted to do something, he was needed here and now. Besides the Choir would investigate Roland’s disappearance and there were agents far more experienced than he about.

He would leave it up to them. For the moment he needed to balance out the universe and root out the evil that laid in the shadows.

#Original Work #original story #my story #welcome to the underground

[szopenhauer]

Think of a movie and now give me that movie title: random Elvira: Mistress of the Dark 

Quote a line from that movie:

Name a song: random MARUV & Boosin — I Want You 

What’s a line from that song? Baby turn me, turn me on All night long What’s the last word spelled backwords of that line? GNOL XD Whats the relationship between you and the last person you texted? my fiancee What would your name be if you replaced T’s with S’s & A’s with E’s? Zuzenne Would you ever legally change you name to that? nah Your boyfriend/girlfriend say they can’t hang out & it’s been two weeks. You? ok How often do you think about death? all the time Where were you when you had your first sleepover? Your house or a friends’? friend’s - P.W.

Are you hungry?: thirsty

What did you buy last time you went to the store?: food? bread not food? trinkets - for example - two books and a tiny stuffed dog

Do you think stained glass windows are pretty?: I don’t know tbh

Are you a chocoholic?: not at all

Have you ever been carded when buying something? : not even when I was buying cigarettes

Do you have a favorite highlighter color?: yellow

Do you have a flashlight?: I do

Do you like watermelon?: nah

Has anyone ever walked in on you while you were on the toilet?: obvi, many times but usually just family members

Do you like a lot of ice in your drinks?: noooo

Have you ever painted a room?: bathroom Have you ever petted a donkey? from what I remember

Out of all 24 hours, which one is your favourite? hmm... Have you ever been in a lighthouse? nope

What time are you planning on going to bed tonight? no idea Have you ever been bit by an animal? yeah Did it rain today? kinda What was the name of the last dog you pet? it was my dog - Łasuch Do you find that you have a certain meal you eat every time you go to certain restaurants? sure Are you constantly judging people? could say so Have you ever had anything stolen from you? sorta Which would you rather, a snowy day, sunny day, rainy day or cloudy day?: cloudy or sunny maybe rainy but definitely not snowy How long have you ever spent away from home? month? Has your luggage ever been lost at the airport? Did you get it back? - About how many times during the night do you wake up from your sleep? few Are there any air fresheners in your house? What kinds? no What scent of candle do you burn the most? we don’t For what reason did you last cry? ugh... What kind of surveys do you wish there were more of? deep

Last time you were attacked by an animal? this summer? Are you paranoid all the time or just during the night? more often during the day actually  Have you ever dated someone without knowing their name? last name, not first, I was a stupid kid and was dating a guy online once and several boys at camp just to show off somebody likes me that way even tho I wasn’t really interested nor knew anything about those matters

If you go to an all-you-can-eat buffet, how much do you really eat? a tiny bit If you need to ask a question in class do you raise your hand? of course How many times have you been engaged (if any at all)? once, currently Do you have to see something to really believe it? jak niewierny Tomasz - często Have you ever gotten so dehydrated that you passed out? I’m surprised that I didn’t :x If your friend was being cheated on, would you tell them? absolutely Do you always assume the worst? that me indeed Are you sick and tired of life? sadly Have you ever been busted for under age drinking? I wasn’t drinking underage, I still don’t drink  Do you have a picture of you and your lover kissing? 1 and a tik tok Have you witnessed a fight at school? bunch

What is your favorite time of day to run? when I’m late for the bus lmfao

When was the last time you talked to your mom? recently Do your parents crush your dreams? sometimes Did you sleep in today? I didn’t Do you hate sleeping in? I love sleeping in  How late do you consider too late to sleep in? noon, 11am is already late  How long have you had a smartphone? less than 5 years Do you keep lists of names that you like? even tho I don’t want kids :P Have you ever butt-dialed someone? it happened

First letter of the names of everyone you have kissed, like *that*; M.

Do you like going to school sports games? eww, boring Have you ever worn your boyfriend’s clothes? guy from camp gave me his cap for a day Have you ever stolen your sibling’s clothes? I had to wear them when she was growing up, gross Have you ever loved someone and HATED it? later? Do you like Starbucks or would you rather just have water or something? just water lol Have you ever walked into a door before? po maturze zapomniałam, że woźny zamknął drzwi, które się same otwierały i walnęłam w nie, raz przytrzepałam sie w futrynę bo za szybko skręciłam w nocy do pokoju, mama uderzyła mnie drzwiami jak byłam mała i stałam za blisko wejścia dzwoniąc do domu więc spadłam ze schodów, a ojciec stuknął mnie tymi dworcowymi przy wiadukcie i wylałam na siebie sok - to chyba wszystkie przypadki Do you know anyone who’s like, psycho-religious? fanatic? my uncle is one of those Have you ever been stuck on a ski lift? luckily never been there to begin with Do you know who Nancy Sinatra is? ain’t this the gal who sings “those boots were made for walking” or smth like that? Have you ever bought anything from an airport? I wasn’t there so... If I asked you who you were gonna marry a year ago, you would say; omg Do you snore, talk, sleepwalk, or drool? drool at times, sorry also roll/kick around and fart ^^” When you woke up this morning, what was your first thought? I was wondering why Nat fronted If you could start completely over knowing what you do now, would you? possibly

If you drink coffee, do you have a favorite flavor & brand? If so, what? not applicable Have you ever personally known a pair of Conjoined twins? woah What is your first thought when you see people kissing in public? "get a room” Would you ever consider being a professional stunt-person? I have no abilities/skills/health etc for that kind of job and it’s really sad actors get prizes for stunt-ppl’s work

How about a Mailman? my father was and that ruined his body so I doubt it (Besides Hello kitty) Do you have a favorite Sanrio character? If so, Who? Hello Kitty is evil Do you flinch when strangers touch you? don’t touch me! Can you remember the first time you went to a movie theater? I believe Is there something in particular you like to look at photos of? What is it? I have strange interests... Do you actually like the taste of Diet Soda? didn’t try and don’t plan to What brand of toliet paper do you normally use? I don’t give a shit ;) Do the Charmin bears make you feel uncomfortable? xD fact that they’re red makes me uneasy On average, how many cans of soda would you say you drink daily? zero Did/do you ever stick your chewed -up gum under tables? I spat it on grass when I was younger and had stuck it in my hair years before as well but every other gum I trashed properly Can you remember the last thing you watched on the news that upset you? that’s why I avoid news How do you feel about red lipstick, is it whorish? it’s my fav but I no longer use makeup What is your definition of feminism? fighting for equal rights between women and men like pay in workplaces Are you comfortable in shorts? am not So, have you watched that Bob’s Burgers show? Do you like it? fragments 

Do you ever get the feeling you dont belong? always Do you believe actions speak louder than words? good actors will use both ways to lie

If your friend tried to commit suicide infront of you how would you react? how, why, who, when etc. Ever had a rumour spread about you? plenty Have you ever tried to impress someone before? majority of my life and I hate myself for that If someone jumped on your back what would you do? die? If you had a child and they turned out just like you would you be happy? poor kid... If you could choose the gender of your child what gender would you choose? not that I want kids but girl

Name three people you want to meet in Heaven. from those who died or are alive rn?

What could be the theme song of your life? I was taking a quiz today and they gave me Kero Kero Bonito - I'd Rather Sleep

Do you have any embarrassing health issues? :( Who do you wish you could talk to? grandma and/or brother Do you lose or misplace things a lot? very rarely lose, misplace more often but still usually same item like my scissors What was the name of the street you grew up on (if you don’t live there now) I live here! Does it still feel like summer where you live? it’s too cold for that Do you have a Paypal account? I wish Have you ever had a brand or company reach out to you on Instagram? polyvore What is the last thing you purchased from Etsy? I have no bank account to be able to buy stuff there Do you sell on Etsy? I’d like to someday Do you have a favorite aunt, and if so, who is it? aunt Alice Who is your favorite cousin? no one Have you bought next year’s calendar yet? yup What year did/will you turn 30? 2022 What’s a food that you like, but it makes you feel sick? no comment Do you like the name Addison? sounds like a shoe Is there anything that you regret getting rid of? ... Have you ever stood up to a bully? couple of times Do you own striped tights? nude and transparent Have you ever made your own Halloween costume out of clothes from ur closet? yep When was the last time you received a hug? this day Do you have anyone who hugs you regularly? dad? Would you rather have the bottom bunk or top bunk? bottom Window seat or aisle seat? window, aisle if in church  Have you ever thrown up on an airplane? that’s one of the reasons I won’t fly Have you ever seen anyone else throw up on an airplane? that’s another... Have you ever gotten sick in the car? almost Do you still wear clothes from the children’s section? whoops you got me What color is your watch? I need to buy watch for Nat... What color was the last pair of flip-flops you wore? last time I was wearing flip flops was before middle school and they were pink I suppose Were you born in your favorite season? in the worst! Have you eaten oatmeal lately? regularly... Do you enjoy editing photos? if not a snapchat filter selfie then I prefer them “natural” What is your favorite app on your phone? Choices forever! lately I begun playing The arcana and it’s pretty good, Lisa downloaded Addams family mystery mansion or smth but it’s not that cool and I used to play the detective story which was awesome <3  Do you answer your phone every time it rings? hell no Do you like to decoupage things? scrapbooks/collages are way better How many tabs are open on your browser right now? 9 with this one but I forgot to close the background music 

How many times have you had sex within the past two years? Guesstimate? personal How many times in a month do you go to the movies? How much do you spend? not at all

When was the last time you heard thunder? Where were you at anyway? this month? home When was the last time you were in trouble with your parents? If so. it’s complicated Do you know anyone who claims to have the ability to see the future? I have dreams that come true and my parents do, also my gf When you go to the movies, do you actually watch the movies or not? ... what else would I do in the cinema? oh, you mean kiss and such? waste of money Do you love or loathe the Eurovision? I don’t mind it Have you ever wielded a sword? wanna try :D If you were famous would you want a statue or a building names after you? what for Can you erect a tent? hope I didn’t forgot How tall is the tallest person you know? didn’t ask Have you ever ridden a camel? might try What’s your opinion on rats? cute

[omg-imatotalmess]

A Pair Of Jeans

Hey guys! I don’t know what this is, but the majority of this was written at, like, two in the morning. It’s also terrible. Don’t judge me. Also, Draco in jeans. Who else wants to see Draco in jeans? Hope y’all enjoy!

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Requested: No

Warnings: Swearing

For all your years of knowing Draco, one thing about him had always bothered you. Well, lots of things. Though, what had always bothered you the most was the least significant. It was literally the least of anyone's concerns when bringing up his faults. Actually, most wouldn’t even see it as a fault, so your fixation on it was all the more strange. 

Whenever he wasn’t wearing his Hogwarts uniform, he wore a suit. 

That was it. That was your whole problem. The two of you had been friends since you were twelve and even after putting up with the unsavory bits of his personality, you decided to get a bee in your bonnet about his fashion. It didn’t make much sense. 

Even as you squinted at him over your book, you had to wonder if he was really all that comfortable. Draco was the only boy you knew that didn’t complain after so much as looking at a suit much less wearing one. Even if the two of you were just laying around, he always wore a suit. Sometimes he took off the jacket, but that was as relaxed as you saw him get. You felt your book sink to your lap. It was all black too, so it had to be hot. You tilted your head to the side, studying the outfit. The material looked constricting. 

“Hello? Earth to (L/N). What are you staring at?” He snapped. You blinked rapidly, your body jumping as though you’d been shocked. 

“Sorry, sorry, just thinking. And, did you call me by my last name?” You asked. 

“Yes, I called you by your last name. Can’t you find anything more interesting to talk about?” He sighed. 

“Okay, fine, let's talk about you,” You said, knowing fully that he’d go for it. 

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” He said smugly. 

“Why don’t you ever wear anything except suits?” You asked. He blinked at you. The look of pure confusion almost made you laugh. 

“What else would I wear?” Anyone else would have thought his reply was snobby, but you knew he was actually confused. 

“I don’t know. Jeans? Like I usually do,” You laughed, gesturing at your own outfit. It was your old go to for a lazy day where you might go out in public. Your trusty, old jeans and a plain (F/C) shirt. You looked like pretty much every other teenager you knew. 

A quiet laugh rolled though your mind the more you thought about it. Draco Malfoy in a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. You’d have better luck fighting the Whomping Willow. Yeah, Hell would freeze over before you saw your friend in jeans. 

“I have no reason to wear those filthy things,” He spat indignantly.

“Woah, dude, I asked why you don’t wear jeans, not whether you're circumcised or not,” You said, holding your hands up in surrender. 

“(Y/N)!” He snapped, flushed a subtle pink. You stifled a laugh. Even after years of being friends, he still wasn’t used to your casual mention of dicks. Smiling, you tossed your book onto the table. 

“Are you?” 

“Am I what?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Circumcised,” You responded. He shoved your knees harshly. 

“Would you stop that!” He yelled. You tipped your head back in an obnoxious laugh as he blushed even darker.

“Okay, okay, I surrender. Who knew a guy who can talk about murder can’t talk about dicks.” He shot you a dirty look and you laughed again. “But seriously, what’s your problem with jeans?” 

“They’re classless,” He snorted. 

“I wear them,” You said. A faint smirk twitched at the corner of his lips. 

“Exactly,” He replied. 

“Rude!” You giggled, shoving him with your foot. He laughed, shaking his head at your childish antics. 

“Alright, okay, so really, what’s with you and the suits?” You asked. 

“Why are you so fixated on what I wear?” A fair question. You shrugged, sitting now so that your chin rested on your knees. 

“I just always wonder if you’re comfortable. I also kinda wanna know what you’d look like in casual stuff. Maybe you’d be super hot and I’d have to fall in love with you,” You joked, grinning at him. You might have missed the way he pinked up at the words ‘fall in love’, but you didn’t miss his thoughtful expression. 

“Would I ever have to hear you complain about my clothing again if I were to try something casual just once?” He asked, his bored tone that he used with most people coming out. 

“Nope. If I see you in jeans one time, I’ll be happy as a clam,” You said. 

“Fine, but you’ll only see it one time, (L/N),” He said, sticking a finger in your face. You smiled. 

“Okay, but I get to choose what you wear and I get a picture,” You said. 

“Deal.”  

It must be one cold day in Hell. 

It took almost a week of shopping around, but you managed to put together a decent outfit for him. It was casual with a little bit of his usual stuff thrown in. You’d gotten a pair of dark wash, slim cut jeans; a black, v-neck tee shirt; a bottle green button down; and a pair of black trainers. You had also thrown them in the wash before you gave them to him so they wouldn’t be all stiff and weird smelling when he got them. 

You knocked on the boys dorm door, grinning into the pile of clothing. You’d been excited for this all week. The second Draco opened the door, you knew he’d been dreading this. Hastily, you tossed the clothes at him and took a seat on his bed. 

“Come on! Come on! I think you’ll like it,” You said, wiggling happily. “Well, I don’t think you’ll hate it.” 

“I feel as though I’ve made a terrible mistake,” He grumbled, looking over the items you’d pushed into his arms. All the same, he disappeared to get dressed. A few minutes later, the anticipation was killing you. 

“Hurry up!” You chriped. 

“Merlin’s beard, (L/N), I’m coming!” He responded, walking back into the room. 

“Holy shit,” You said in awe. You’d expected that he’d look good, but you didn’t expect him to look that good. 

The dark green made the grey in his eyes turn silvery and his hair a less alarming, yet still striking, shade of blonde. The pants fit well; loose enough in the upper part to be comfortable and tapered in the leg so they still had shape. He had buttoned the shirt all the way up so his tee shirt couldn’t be seen as well as tucked it in. With a smile, you noticed that his hair was still perfectly slicked back. Even in casual clothing he still managed to be formal. 

“Are you just going to sit there with your mouth open like a ninny or are you going to say something?” He snapped. 

“You look pretty good, but...” You trailed off, sliding towards the end of the bed so you could reach him. 

“What?” He asked, annoyed. 

“Unbutton the top ones and roll up your sleeves you heathen,” You laughed, popping the first two buttons on the shirt. He blinked at you. Shaking your head, you began rolling the sleeves to his elbows. Better, much better. 

“Are you quite finished?” He stared down at you with an annoyed expression. 

“Not quite,” You mumbled, reaching for his hair. He jerked back the second he realized what you were doing. 

“Don’t you dare,” He said. 

“C’mon,” You pouted. 

“Absolutely not,” He snorted. Sticking your bottom lip out, you gave him your best pouty, puppy eyed look. Draco might have been a hard ass with most people, but you knew how to work him. Puppy eyes were your best weapon. Sighing, he rolled his eyes. 

“Please, Dray?” You pleaded, using the nickname you knew would melt him a little bit. Despite the deadpan stare, you could see him starting to break. You batted your eyelashes. “Pleeeease?” 

“Oh, fine! Do what you must!” He groaned, throwing his hands up. 

“Yay!” Pulling your wand out, you took all the product out of his hair and watched it fall in strange ways over his face. You smiled, pushing it around his head until it laid over his forehead and just into his eyes. He was dark and brooding anyway, so you saw no reason to take that from him now. 

Finally, you pulled back to take a look at your masterpiece. He looked so plain, so normal. You commended yourself on his hair. The way it fell in whisps onto his forehead, just over his brows, did things to you. Shivering, it occured to you that he was hot. You’d always thought he was good looking, but you’d always attributed that to his sense of style. Apparently, that didn’t matter. Draco Malfoy was just hot and there was nothing you could do about it. 

“Well?” He asked impatiently. You jumped, shaking your head. 

“I was right. You’re super hot,” You said plainly. You were glad the dorm was empty otherwise you never would have heard the end of it from the guys. 

“Is that so?” He purred, running a hand through his hair. 

“Sure. Now you’ll really have to beat off girls with a stick,” You teased. It was probably true. He already had to fight off Slytherin girls by the tons, so making him hotter would just mean more. He liked the attention though. It was kinda his thing. 

“Does that include you, (L/N)?” He asked, smirking despite the soft pink of his cheeks. You smiled, rolling your eyes at him. 

“Oh yeah, definitely. I’ll even fight all the other girls just for you to notice me,” You said sarcastically, pulling out your camera. 

“Smile,” You said. 

“I was hoping you’d forgotten about that,” He grumbled. You shook your head. 

“How could I? I’ll forever have a picture of our Slytherin Prince in commoner clothes. Now strike a pose,” You said, moving off the bed to get a better angle. Sighing, he glared unhappily into the lense with his most withering look. It would have to do. You took the picture and hoped it turned out well. 

“There; you have your picture. May I change now?” He asked, already beginning to unbutton the top. 

“Sure thing, cutie.” You almost laughed at the way he began to fish for words. “But, you should keep those around. You might use them again someday.” 

“I doubt it,” He muttered as you practically skipped out the door. You knew he’d keep them though. He always kept the things you gave him even if they were stupid. 

As you retreated to the common room, you had to wonder why the image of Draco in normal clothing was sticking in the forefront of your mind. You shook your head. That was something to deal with another day (something you’d been saying since you were fourteen). 

#Draco #Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader fluff #draco x reader fluff #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco oneshot #draco malfoy oneshot #draco malfoy friend #slytherin #friendship #maybe crush?? #harry potter #harry potter imagine #hp

[ancientbooshartifacts]

Carpe Noctem

Author: Silent-Fields

Year: 2010

Rating: PG-13

Characters: Richmond, Anthrax & Ebola

Richmond watched as the children of the night careened about in a haze of smoke, extending their pale arms towards Heaven and Hell. After weeks of careful research, tonight was the night Richmond had decided to set out and experience his first goth club. He had chosen Pandora's Box because it offered two rooms spinning various genres, a lounge, and a very extensive bar. He was in the gothic room at the moment, enjoying the contrast of ethereal female vocals with demonic male ones echoing from the club's speakers. With his last few paychecks as Project Executive, Richmond built himself up an extensive wardrobe, favoring mostly Victorian and Edwardian inspired styles, but liking the cuts on many of the more modern clothes as well. Most of his old clothes were then donated, but he did keep a few pieces. A purple dress shirt did look quite nice with a black tie. For his debut he wore a black frock coat, a black ruffled shirt whose cuffs dangled just enough over his hands to be dramatic but not a hindrance, and a maroon waistcoat. Black trousers and pointed boots completed his outfit. He had recreated the eye make-up he had done for Denholm's father's funeral, but chose to simply line his lips' natural shape rather than draw them into a frown. He wanted to be approachable, trying for subtle indifference with a hint of misery for tonight's look. His parents had been more upset about his demotion than his new lifestyle. "You always liked The Addams Family and Tim Burton movies," his mother said with a shake of her head. "And there was that time your father took you to see Kiss. But Richmond dear, can you still support yourself?" Richmond had enough savings to cover any emergencies that may arise within the next few months and tended to live rather frugally, so the lower pay hadn't really bothered him. What had been surprising was how much more comfortable he was now, finding solace in the shadows of the night after years of corporate competition under harsh florescent. Richmond had been so lost in reminiscing that he didn't notice two girls approaching him until they were right in front of him. The taller of the two was wearing a long black velvet dress with bell sleeves, her wavy blonde hair flowing over both her shoulders. The shorter girl's black hair was pinned back with spider shaped sliver clips, and she wearing a black knee-length tank dress with zippers on the straps, fishnet stockings, and combat boots. Both wore matching necklaces, a silver dagger on a satin cord that stopped at the tops of their breasts. Drinks in hand and small purses on their shoulders, they introduced themselves. "Hello, I'm Ebola.” said the blonde, her manner stoic. "And I'm Anthrax." said the other, her tone equally void of emotion. "Richmond." He replied with a bow. Oh dear, should I have created pseudonym? Alabaster? No, sounds silly. Ammonite? Possibly too obscure. Maybe I should have used my last name, it does sound a bit more gothic . . . "We haven't seen you here before, is this your first time?" Anthrax asked, interrupting his thoughts. "Oh yes, yes it is." "They seem to be playing older stuff tonight, not a bad night to drop in. Would you care to join us in the lounge?" Richmond nodded and Anthrax's lips curled upwardly slightly, flashing the tips of a pair of fangs as she turned toward the door. Richmond followed as the girls effortless weaved their way through the dancing patrons towards the lounge. They sat on a vacant purple velvet settee while Richmond sat in an adjacent chair, the table in front of them covered with ashtrays and empty glasses. Candlelight and black fabric draped from the ceiling surrounded them. Ebola sat her glass down and fished a cigarette and lighter out of her purse while Anthrax and Richmond held on to their drinks. "So Richmond, what do you do?" Ebola asked, lighting her cigarette. She held up her free hand before he could reply. "Wait, let me guess. Computer programmer? No no, graphic designer." Richmond furrowed his brow in confusion. "Nearly every guy here works with computers," Anthrax explained. "It provides a relaxed office dress code and a pay check that supports the lifestyle." "Oh. Um, I work in IT." It felt odd saying that, as Richmond still had no idea what kind of work he was expected to do. Though it is quite nice working in the basement. "Ah." Anthrax took a sip of her drink, something dark red. "The bartender here is quite excellent, always coming up with some new delicious and deadly cocktail. I see you've gone with The Green Fairy." "I quite like absinthe." Richmond replied with perhaps too much enthusiasm. He was drinking a cocktail of the previously mentioned bartender's own design. While lounge was relaxing, Pandora's Box was primarily a dance club, and did not lend itself to melting sugar cubes into luminous green filled glasses, so he settled for a mixed drink that contained some of his favorite liquor. "Oh I'm sure you'll meet him eventually." Ebola said, rolling her eyes. Richmond looked quite confused. "Absinthe is the owner and operator of a S&M club nearby." Anthrax explained. "It's members only with the exception of a few events throughout the year." She looked him up and down. "You could probably become a member without too much difficulty." "Oh I see." Richmond wasn't quite sure how he was supposed to interpret that statement. "Um . . . are you members?" "Yes." Ebola replied, taking a drag from her cigarette. "Why, are you interested?" "Not now, maybe one day." Richmond shifted and took a sip of his drink. He noticed Anthrax looking him again and he suddenly wondered if maroon was too bright of a colour for the occasion. "This isn't just your first time here is it?" she asked. "It's your first time out a goth club." Richmond blinked. "Oh dear, was it obvious?" "A bit" she replied, her fangs once again peeking out over her near smile. "Oh. Well I am still feeling my way around the culture." he admitted "It does get associated with a lot of different things." Anthrax commented. "How did you become interested in the lifestyle?" Ebola asked, placing her cigarette on the closest ashtray. "Cradle of Fifth." he replied, hiding his grin with a sip of his drink. "May I ask you two what interested you in becoming goth?" "Sure," Ebola said with a shrug. "For Anthrax it was The Hunger, that film with David Bowie as a vampire and Susan Sarandon's lesbian scene. If that wasn't enough the moment we start the film she's shaking me asking 'What's this song? Who's that bloke in the cage??'" Anthrax glared at Ebola. "You're the one with the thing for David Bowie." She turned to Richmond, "My older brother was into the scene as well so I'd often watch him put on his make-up before he went out and developed an interest from there. As for Ebola, she fancied my brother." "That wasn't the only reason, you cow." She glared back at Anthrax before replying. "I always loved Lydia's outfits in Beetlejuice, I wanted to dress like her every day. But it was so distressing to see her so happy and normal looking at the end of the film." "Oh yes, I agree. Even if the song is very catchy." Richmond swirled his drink in his glass, watching the bright green whirlpool, wondering what question to ask next. Perhaps they know someplace that provides a more appropriate atmosphere for drinking absinthe . . . Ebola reached for her cigarette, noticing a man walking quickly past them. "Good Evening, Lord Catalyst." she called out. The man froze and turned around with a grimace on his face. He was dressed similar to Richmond, but had chosen to accessorize with a top hat and cane. "You two!" he said with a slight twitch, pointing his finger accusingly. He turned to Richmond dramatically, his cape swirling to match his movement. "Take heed my dear fellow! They are harpies, who will snatch away your soul!" He glared at the two girls on the settee. "I do not mean this as a compliment!" "Oh fuck off!" Ebola hissed. "Or shall we tell him why you're so uncomfortable around us?" Lord Catalyst jumped, his twitch increasing in intensity, and scuttled away. Both girls exchanged a look and a snicker before turning to Richmond. "I'm sorry Richmond. We . . . collect boys on occasion but tonight we were just looking for conversation," explained Anthrax. "Though you are very handsome.” Ebola added. "That's quite alright. I must say, you both have beautiful skulls." "Thank you," they replied in unison. They spent the rest of the evening chatting away in the lounge, occasionally getting up to dance when a song came on that the girls insisted Richmond must dance to. Soon the antique grandfather clock in the lounge struck three, signaling that the evening was at an end. "You've both been very helpful. Thank you." said Richmond as they exited the club, trying not to smile. "There isn't a goth rule again smiling, Richmond." Ebola said with a laugh. "Just don't make it a regular habit." After exchanging phone numbers and email addresses the group went their separate ways, with the promise to meet again soon. ----------------------------------- For the first couple of years they were always out together; going to clubs and films and tea parties in graveyards, meeting up to chat and shop and dance. Anthrax and Ebola quickly discovered Richmond had no trouble pulling, his shy demeanor combined with his theatrical delivery proved highly amusing and rather attractive to both goths and non-goths of all genders. Sometimes they would meet just to compare notes on their various conquests. As the years went on Richmond began to come out less and less, mainly communicating by email and only occasionally by phone. He would still show up to major events and travel with them for Whitby, but Richmond slowly withdrew into his own world as Anthrax and Ebola continued to venture out in to the night. ----------------------------------- Neither Ebola nor Anthrax had seen Richmond for months and after weeks of persistent emails and phone calls, he agreed to come out. Before heading to Pandora's Box they decided to meet up at a near by cafe, sitting in a booth in the back corner, for privacy as well as ambience. Always a gentleman, Richmond waited until the girls had settled before sitting down. Anthrax sat near the wall, dangling her fingers over the table candle as she waited for her tea bag to steep. Ebola stirred her coffee, watching the creamer swirl. Both waited silently, wanting Richmond to speak first. He stared at his coffee, watching the stream curl out of the mug for a while before speaking. "My old boss committed suicide. He just jumped out of a window one day." Anthrax gasped and Ebola jumped slightly. That wasn't the whole story of course, but Richmond didn't feel like explaining that the pensions at Reynholm Industries had been tampered with for years and if Denholm had chosen to think about it, there had probably been an easy way to fix them. But Denholm has always been impulsive and unpredictable, up until the last moments of his life. "The one that demoted you?" Ebola asked carefully. Richmond nodded, still not looking up at either of them. "I slept with him shortly before it happened. It wasn't anything serious; I knew that before we did anything. In a way it sort of felt like closure." Richmond took a slip of his coffee, continuing to look at the table. "I wasn't allowed to attend the funeral, but at the time it didn't really bother me. As the weeks went on though, I found myself becoming rather depressed." "How are they treating you at work?" asked Anthrax. "Oh much better, I'm allowed out during daytime hours now. I still don't talk to my coworkers much - don't really see a reason to. I'm just sort of . . . there." Richmond looked up, saw two pairs of sympathetic looking milky lenses, and looked back down. "I'm not quite sure what to do with myself now." Ebola looked at Anthrax, biting her lip slightly. They searched each other eyes for the right words. Today it was Anthrax's turn to have the epiphany, eyes widening as she turned to face Richmond once more. "Richmond, do you remember the last thing that came out of Pandora's Box?" Richmond looked up from his drink at Anthrax, allowing his frown to become one of confusion rather than despair. She reached across the table and took hold of one of his hands. "It was hope." Richmond blinked, his mouth forming a silent "Oh". Ebola reached across and took hold of his other hand, both girls squeezing before letting go. The friends finished their drinks in a comfortable silence. "I think it's the industrial room tonight my dears." Ebola said as she began to rise out of the booth. "We can dance the night away and count how many times someone samples Dune." "No complaints here." Richmond replied, waiting until Anthrax was out of the booth before standing, trailing behind them both as they walked toward the front. "Oh Richmond we must tell you about this ridiculous boy we met at The Black Spider." Anthrax turned as he held the cafe door open. "He looked a bit like you but lacked your depth. When we asked him what his favorite song was he said it was Gary Numan's Dominion Day." Richmond sneered slightly as he followed her out. "First time?" "First and last, thankfully." And so the friends set out to drink and dance, extending their arms towards the infinite possibilities that lay ahead of them, capturing the night in their pale hands.

#the mighty boosh #mighty boosh #boosh #richmond avenal #anthrax #ebola #anthrax & ebola #the it crowd #it crowd

[writerandee]

Stages of Love - Part 2

Part 1 Here

Stages of Love Tag: @slowlyyoungangel @nowiloveandwilllove @deepestfirefun

One glance in the mirror was all it took for her to realize the obvious truth. Formal functions were not her cup of tea. Finding anything in her closet suitable to wear this weekend was hopeless. The only dress she owned, reminded her of something her great-great grandma would’ve worn. Definitely not striking or eye catching or remotely anything like a woman of this century would wear.  

When did I last wear this anyway?

How do modern women do this every day? She was struggling with one outfit for one night. Imagine doing this every day. It was her worst nightmare. Dressing to impress is hard work.  

But I’m not trying to impress anyone. Am I?

There was that drool worthy picture of the guest presenter, Richard Armitage. She did feel an immediate attraction to him but it was like seeing a celebrity in a magazine. Of course, they’re good looking, but you would never in your wildest dreams think anything romantic would be possible. That kind of thing doesn’t happen in real life. People like him are out of reach. He must have every single female on the planet lusting after him. She probably wouldn’t register on his radar.

It doesn’t matter what I wear, he’s not in town long enough for anything to happen.  

She quickly pulled herself out of the momentary self-abuse and decided on an outfit. Her thoughts settled on a long black skirt with a slit that went as high as the thigh and a dark red form fitting lace top with elbow length sleeves that showed barely any cleavage. Hopefully it wouldn’t give Tim the wrong idea.  

Oh god, I almost forgot about Tim!

This night would probably go a whole lot easier if she hadn’t agreed to go with him as his date. At least selling her books before the show gave her an excuse to avoid him for a while. Hopefully he wouldn’t hover.  

He’d probably hover.

Her phone thankfully rang at this time disrupting all her thoughts of Tim. On the other end of the phone was her best friend and frequent coworker, Kayla. In fact, she would be helping Lily this Saturday sell books before The Crucible.

“Kay! I’m so glad you called. I wanted to ask if you were free Saturday before we have to be at the Opera House? I need someone to help me with my make-up. You know I have almost no skill in that department.”

“Of course, I’ll help you. But what about your outfit? Did you have to dust the moth balls off it?”

“Ha ha smart ass and no I didn’t, it’s not that old!”

“Okay whatever you say. Tim will be happy with whatever you’re wearing. Ew Tim. Why did you say yes?”

“Probably something to do with my inner compassion for all creatures big and small.”

“Lily, sometimes I believe sarcasm is your native language. Any way I’ll see you Saturday. Later!”

The hard part of getting prepared for Saturday night was over. Printing out flyers for the store and a sign to drape over the table for the pre-show was easier than putting together an outfit.  

The remainder of the week breezed by with business as usual at her store. Nothing major or even interesting occurring. Kayla stopped by a couple of times to offer wardrobe and accessory suggestions for her chosen outfit. Everything she suggested was majorly over the top, completely wrong for her simple style. As a business professional and “respected” member of the community, the last thing she wanted to do was shine brighter than a disco ball.  

Friday morning arrived and was becoming increasingly stressful. She received an email letting her know that some books she ordered for this weekend wouldn’t arrive in time. Feeling completely out of control and frustrated enough to throw something, she focused her attention on the cleanliness of her store. Organizing and cleaning happened to be her favorite stress relievers.  

She was so engrossed in dusting shelves; she didn’t even hear the front door bell ring letting her know someone had entered the store.  

“Excuse me, hello?” someone inquired from the front entrance.

Very few things in the world surprised her any more, but an English accent in Texas definitely shocked and surprised her. She almost dropped her dusting brush! Wiping away the dust from her clothes she quickly made her way to the front to help the man.  

“Yes, back here!” She called from the back of the store. “Sorry about that. How can I help you?”

She came face to face with the man in front of her. He must’ve been a little more than six feet with a very impressive demeanor. He wore a pair of perfect fit dark wash jeans with a baby blue shirt that hugged his torso and a dark brown jacket. His dark brown hair was perfectly styled and combed to the side. She couldn’t get a good look at his eyes since he was wearing sunglasses, it was after all a bright and sunny day in this beach town sunglasses were practically mandatory. There was however something oddly familiar about him. He gazed upon her with a friendly smile.

“I was just wondering if you could point me in the direction of historical fiction?”

His question disrupted the spell he cast over her. She quickly turned off the gawking and went in to customer service mode.  

“Oh yes, it’s right over here. Follow me.”

She led him to the back of the store where row after row contained the historical fiction section. Even though his eyes were concealed behind sunglasses, she could sense his piercing gaze upon her back.  

What’s this guy’s deal?

“Here we are, are you looking for anything specific?”  

“No no. Just looking for something to help pass the time.”

“Well I’m sure you’ll find something.” She gave him an encouraging smile.  

“Please let me know if you need any help. My name is Lily.”

“Lily, short for Lillian I’m assuming?”

Normally any one that dared to call her by her birth name annoyed her to pieces. But there was something about the way he said her name that gave her chills that ran down her spine and made her want him to keep saying it forever. Maybe Lillian wasn’t such a bad name after all.  

“Yes, that’s right.”

Before she could feel any more overwhelming sensations about a brief encounter with a perfect stranger, she made her way to the back office for a glass of water and to catch her breath.  

After a couple of minutes had passed, she heard the front door bell ring. A quick search of the shop revealed the mysterious English stranger had gone and, on the checkout counter was a $20 bill.  

I wonder what he bought.

When she checked the historical shelves where he was browsing, she noticed a copy of The Scarlet Letter missing.  

Maybe he will be at The Crucible tomorrow night.  

His choice of book definitely hinted he might very well be.

#richard armitage #richard armitage x oc #real person fiction

[arbitratc-blog]

Hello! I’m Fizz and this is Rowan. I’m looking forward to writing with you guys, so please feel free to send me a message to chat or plot, or like this post and I’ll come to you. Have a nice day. :)

( chris hemsworth, he/him, male ) HEAR YE, HEAR YE! Allow me to introduce ROWAN MALLORY of ENGLAND. The 31 year old HOUSE GUARD is known to be EGALITARIAN and DETERMINED, but rumors about court claim HE can be CUNNING and DESTRUCTIVE when crossed. Only time will tell where their interests belong. Penned by FIZZ ( gmt + 22 + they/them ).

BIOGRAPHY

Rowan and his family have worked in service of the English royal family for generations.

For most of his life, Rowan has resented this, as while it’s always been a secure income, it’s been thankless and goalless.

His family have never expanded or risen above themselves, and Rowan has always resented that all of the work he or his family do is for the richest in the land.

While England wasn’t hit with famine as badly as mainland Europe, trade and commerce collapsed and bankrupted both wealthy families and those that sold to them, affecting everyone from the top down.

Through this, Rowan’s family enjoyed security. But Rowan quickly saw how unfair this was. Knowing it was because of the royal family’s wealth, he at first kept silent, though his job grew harder as the population began to strike back against those that wore silk while they couldn’t buy bread.

Knowing his position was unique and advantageous, Rowan was quick to offer his services to an organised group of rebels.

When standing guard, all but invisible to the nobles that passed, he heard a great deal. With full access to the palaces of royals, he had the ears of many servants.

Gradually, he began work to turn those closest to the royal family - lucky enough to still benefit from their wealth - against them.

When public violence reached its zenith, Italy’s offer came and the royal family made plans to leave the country. For this, they organised a small, personal guard for guidance on their journey and protection once they arrived. Rowan was lucky enough to find a place in this unit.

Though far from home and disconnected from the revolutionary sect, Rowan holds his anti-establishment motivations close to his heart and, surrounded by those he has come to despise for their place in the world, he has big plans.

CHECKLIST

THE BASICS

Name: Rowan Mallory Age: 31 General physical description: Tall, fit and broad shouldered. Shoulder length dark blonde hair and rough stubble. Generally about as unkempt as one can be in polite society. Hometown: London Type of home: Small family home provided from service to the crown. Now, in Sardinia, he has quarters near the other staff. Relationship status: Separated Current family: Mother, father, siblings and extended family still in England.  Family background (parents, previous marriages, etc.): Close to and respectful of family, though sometimes a little distant. Has never settled into marriage, though he has a wife back in England. The two are recently married, though have no children. Friends: Got on well with other guards and servants, calling a few friends alongside his comradery with the group of rebels. Other close relationships: There has been one or two romantic dalliances in the past whose companionship he still treasures, though he would never say as much. They are left behind in England, in any case. Relationship with men: The majority of his friends are men, as it is more accepted to enjoy their company. Rowan enjoys them more than most, he would wager.  Relationship with women: Having worked alongside female staff for many years, he holds a respect for them that other men might not, knowing what even the wealthy are capable of. Besides, they are beautiful creatures.  Job: House Guard to the royal family of England; protecting their home in Sardinia and their person, performing tasks as ordered and occasional courier work. Dress style: Most often found in his guards uniform of light armour and surcoat of the St George’s cross, his personal clothes are simple and of his means, usually made of dark fabric or simple undyed cotton. 

A BRIEF LOOK

Religion: Protestant Attitude to religion: Practised for the sake of politeness. Favorite pastimes: Enjoys socialising and sports.  Hobbies: An amateur smith.  Favorite foods: Simple tastes for simple folk, though he particularly enjoyed chicken in garlic sampled from the royal table once. 

PERSONALITY

Strongest positive personality trait: Determination Strongest negative personality trait: Unsympathetic Sense of humor: Generally varied. He likes a bawdy joke as much as dry wit.  Temper: Very patient. Consideration for others: His consideration for the lower class is far higher than for the wealthy, which he privately respects far less. Where nobles are concerned, though he will keep his silence to their face, he works hard to undermine and ruin them behind their backs.  How other people see him/her: An outwardly loyal and quiet guardsman with little else to offer. Opinion of him/herself: Has a high opinion of himself.  Other traits, especially those to be brought out in story: Egalitarian, destructive, confident, cheerful, vindictive, cunning, crafty.

AN ENDING

Ambitions: Better the lot of the lower classes, either through political arrangement or the overthrow of the upper class.  Philosophy of life: A staunch believer in equality for all, though this stems to the downtrodden far more. Equality for those already in power tends to slip his mind. Most important thing to know about this character: I have written far too much about him here and if you got to the end, good for you. 

#rowanintro #gphq.intro

[codyfernaesthetic]

Dichotomy

Part 7

Author’s note:

You know what’s rare? Mallory smiling. By god, does she deserve it. She’s been through hell. Does it last? No, what’do think this is, American Happy Story?

“Hello, Mallory!”

Lydia strutted into Mallory’s room, pushing past a caught-off guard Rhoda.

Mallory stood, surprised, but pleasantly so, “Hi.” 

Rhoda closed the door, eyeing the woman suspiciously. 

“I didn’t expect to see you again,” Mallory told her as she was pulled into a hug. She didn’t return it, more so from shock than unwillingness.

She pulled back, “Well, I came to ask a favor, one that I think will be mutually beneficial.” 

Mallory furrowed her brows, but nodded for her to continue.

“Mallory, fashion has always been my deepest passion in life, but I am so tired of these stuck up, socialite bitches who only know how to complain. I truly enjoyed making you a dress all those months ago, and well, I was hoping you’d be willing to be my muse. I’ve been feeling so stifled lately, and if I may say, you have this...innocent beauty about you, something very alien yet...real, genuine.”

Taken aback, she offered a shy, confused smile, “Thank you.”

Rhoda circled around behind Mallory, eyeing Lydia like a mama bear watching a hunter who’s gotten too close for comfort to her cubs. Mallory didn’t notice as Lydia flitted and touched her hair and face, “There’s just this...I don’t know, aura around you. Oh, please say you will, Mallory. You’ll have my eternal thanks.”

Mallory shrugged, having nothing to lose, “Sure. It’d be an honor.”

Lydia’s smile grew wider as she unloaded her bag onto the nearby counter, already off into rambling, “Perfect. Now I already have a couple designs in mind. Some are just everyday wear, and then there are some for balls and big events, we have those so often here...”

Rhoda stayed close to Mallory’s side.

* * *

Michael’s personal office was located on the first floor of the main complex, where the majority of the business side of the Cooperative was operated. It was, of course, the largest of them all, and the most grand. Rumor was it was modeled and inspired after The King’s Office in the Palace of Versailles; rich, detailed oak desk and cabinets, perfectly polished floors, almost like glass, gold an velvet decorating every surface, all bathed in warm light. Michael sat in his leather chair at his desk, a large French window framed by crimson curtains behind him. The artificial sunlight streaming in, casting a soft halo around his head. A stack of papers lay in his lap, but his interest in them was cursory at best. Every so often, he would take to tapping his finger on his chair’s arm, gaze far away. 

“You haven’t been very talkative lately.”

Michael was drawn from his inner thoughts to look at Ms. Mead who had walked behind the desk, looking at him with a motherly concern.

“I never knew I was talkative,” he said pulling one side of his mouth into a small smirk.

She patted his shoulder, “I’m sure if I had more memories of you from before, I could contradict that.”

He reached up and placed his hand over hers, trying to hide the twinge of sadness in his eyes.

“Something’s on your mind,” she continued, walking around to sit in a small leather chair, “It’s that girl, isn’t it.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, but gave no response. He knew it was more of a statement than a question. 

She leaned in, “Is she one of the witches who escaped?”

He nodded, “Yes, she must be. But...”

“What?”

He stood, walking to the window and staring out into nowhere, deep in thought, “There’s something else. She’s something else.” 

Mead kept her gaze steadily on the back of his head, as if trying to read his mind. He liked keeping to himself, despite how he told her how close they were. It was as if something had once again separated them.

Perhaps he could sense that she’d lied at the Outpost.

She’d told him that she knew where her place was, by his side in this new world. That wasn’t true. She’d never felt more out of place than at this so-called Sanctuary. At the Outpost, things were simple and clear. Venable ran things strict, but efficient, and Mead was her right hand. Venable had been the closest thing to a friend she could remember, but at his command, she’d shot her dead. Here, she felt next to useless, she wasn’t in control of anything, and this entire place was run with too much bureaucracy. Mead often had passing thoughts that perhaps Michael hadn’t so much had a problem with how she had run the Outpost, but that she could have no real authority, and yet have such a tighter grip of control than he did. Mead kept these thoughts to herself, knowing that in the end she had no power to change things. Michael was still the beautiful boy, the idealized image in her mind of long forgotten, and cobbled-together rosy memories.

And perhaps that’s all she was to him as well.

“Did you ever notice any deformities on Mallory?” he asked, breaking the long silence, “Scars or birthmarks?” 

She shrugged, “I never paid much attention to her at all. She never seemed all that special to me.”

He turned to face her, brow taught with curiosity, “Perhaps that was the point. To hide her in plain sight.”

* * *

Lydia had practically given Mallory a wardrobe to last a few months. An outfit for every occassion it seemed. Although the ensemble she wore today was probably one of her favorites. It was black, sheer in some places, draped over elegantly, decorated with silver stars and moons. She even had given her a little silver star hairpin. She stared at herself in the mirror, indulging her vanity briefly. She’d never owned anything designer before. It certainly felt more expensive than what she was used to.

“I feel like a...goth princess or something,” she told Lydia with a smile; who stood beside her, admiring her work.

“You certainly look like a princess.”

Rhoda slipped on a simple silver chain with a pearl pendant around Mallory’s neck. She looked Mallory up and down with a cautious smile.

“Well, twirl around!” Lydia encouraged, “Give us a fashion show!”

Mallory laughed and spun with a flourish, picking up the hem between her fingers and strutting around the room, much to Rhoda’s delight. 

Lydia cheered, “Beautiful!”

Mallory leaned dramatically against the chair, throwing her hand over her head, “Am I a model yet?”

Rhoda clapped, feeling such joy at seeing Mallory smile.

She whirled out back into the middle of the room, “Coco would be so jealous--”

She stopped, her smile faltering. Rhoda’s heart sinking with it.

She looked at Lydia and said more quietly, “Thank you, Lydia. It’s beautiful. Everything you’ve made me is beautiful.”

She waved her off, “Oh, no, thank you. I haven’t had this much fun making clothes in over a year. You’re much easier to get along with than some of the others here.” 

She began packing up her supplies, suddenly looking up and telling her, “You know, maybe you should be out and about today, show off to all these rich folks how beautiful you are.”

She nodded, the sadness obvious in her tone, “Thank you, Lydia.”

“Perhaps she’s right, Mi-Mallory,” Rhoda said as she closed the door behind Lydia, “You have been cooped up in here for so long. Maybe it would be beneficial to have a change of scenery? Some fresh air?”

Mallory gave her an incredulous look.

“And you do look lovely.”

She smiled, “Yeah, I guess I’ll have to learn to get around this place at some point. So, tell me, what’s there to do around here for fun?”

She paused to think, “There’s a theatre.”

“Of course there is.”

Rhoda laughed, “The Cooperative has a collection of nearly any movie you can imagine. Sometimes they hold special theme nights.”

Her eyes lit up, “What, like for Star Wars?”

She nodded, “Yes, I have heard of that.”

“Have you ever seen it?”

“No.”

Mallory’s jaw dropped, “You’ve never seen the Star Wars movies?”

She shook her head bashfully, “I’m afraid not. Not entirely. I’ve caught brief glimpses when I was delivering extra popcorn to the woman I served before you.”

“Which ones?”

“I...beleive the prequels.”

Mallory stood up, with a serious look, “Well, that settles what we’ll be doing for the day.”

* * *

Rhoda was fond over Mallory almost instantly when she entered the Sanctuary. Lydia was correct in that regard, she emanated an aura around her that instantly drew Rhoda to her; something so gentle yet powerful. It gave her a sense of peace, invigorating her, renewing energy. Yet, she could see that Mallory might’ve been giving off such effects without consequence to herself. She was sluggish, her skin had taken on a gray tone with the lack of light, she’d lost weight, not much, but enough to warrant Rhoda’s concern. She hadn’t looked like this when she arrived. Yet, it was as if the effects of the Apocalypse were only now pressing down on her; almost like a preservative energy had left. Rhoda tried her best to be a friend, even though she didn’t know how. She’d never been close to anyone, never beyond servant and master. No one had actually cared to learn her name like Mallory, just out of desire for human interaction; an effort to maintain sanity. That’s why Mallory saved Bartholomew, why she befriended Rhoda, she refused to lose herself, even after losing everything.

This made Rhoda’s betrayal all the more heinous in her own eyes.

Langdon had approached her barely a week after the incident at the Temple. She’d gone to fetch some food, in hopes that Mallory would at least try to eat something. She felt him approaching long before she saw him. Darkness and power followed him like a perfume, sharpening her senses. She bowed deeply without a word when he stood over her, frowning; not displeased, but grave in his intent.

“Look at me, Rhoda.”

She trembled at the way her name left his lips like a dark command. She shakily raised up to rest her gaze on his chest.

She gasped with fear when his fingers took her chin and forced her head up.

“In the eyes.”

“Yes, Lord Langdon,” she answered, her invitation for his will.

He smiled, but it was without joy. It was cold, inhuman. He dropped his hand.

“Were you present at the Temple the night of my return?”

He knew, of course he knew. He was daring her to lie.

“Yes, Lord Langdon.”

He nodded, “Then I’m certain you’re aware of the disturbance caused during the sacrifice.”

She don’t know why that prompted her start vomiting out words the way she did; perhaps paralyzing fear that he would do something to Mallory. Surely he knew it was her that was responsible.

She stepped closer, pleading, “Lord Langdon, Miss Mallory is deeply apologetic for disturbing the sacrifice. She swears she will never interfere again. And perhaps it was not her at all. Perhaps The Dark Lord was trying to communicate with you.”

His gaze was a dagger straight through her chest, his tone even more dangerous, “You dare to presume what my Father does and says to me?”

She violently shook her head, protesting, “No! My Lord, that wasn’t—“

He started stepping closer, backing her against a corner, eyes never straying from hers, “Does the slave think she knows more than the master?”

Tears pricked at her eyes, “Never, Lord Langdon.”

She was flat against a wall, shaking with terror.

“Has Miss Mallory’s influence planted a root of disobedience in you? Will corrections need to be made to curb your sudden defiance?”

Her muscles tensed as if she expected a slap, “No! No, my Lord.”

He brought his lips closer to her ear, his breath hot on her face, “If Miss Mallory’s head is stuck to a pike and displayed in the temple, will you be rid of your rebellion?”

A single tear escaped down her cheek, “No! No! I will obey, Lord Langdon! I will obey!”

He slowly stood up and backed away, looking her over cooly, “You will observe Miss Mallory and see if you can find any evidence of...unusual displays of power. Upon any discovery of such, you are to immediately report to me.”

She nodded, wiping away the tear, feeling like there was a sinkhole in her stomach, “Yes, Lord Langdon. It will be done according to your word.”

He turned to leave, saying with cold confidence, “Of course it will.”

#michael langdon #mallory #millory #millory fanfic #mallory x michael #ahs mallory #ahs michael #ahs apocalypse #cody fern #billie lourd #american horror story apocalypse #ahs season 8 #miriam mead #my writing #michael langdon fanfic #antichrist #satan #fanfic

[coffeeandyoongi]

BTS reaction: they tell the paparazzi they are dating you.

Request from anonymous: A BTS REACTION TO YOU BEING OUT ON A DATE AND THE PAPARAZZI SHOW UP SO YOU START TO DISTANCE YOURSELF BUT THEY DO SOMETHING LIKE HOLD YOUR HAND OR GET CLOSER OR ARM ON THE SHOULDER OR A KISS ON THE CHEEK AND THEYRE LIKE ITS TIME PEOPLE KNEW

Seokjin:

You two just really enjoyed each other’s company. There was no need to go on a fancy date since you could enjoy the most domestic things as if it was an amusement park. That said, you would usually do a lot of things together, but your personal favourite had always been grocery shopping. There was no particular reason behind it, it just made you happy. Seokjin wearing the most casual clothes he had at the back of his wardrobe, barefaced and with eyes just for you.

In the grocery store, you would always buy the essentials and then spend some time wandering around, joking, you trying to sneak some snacks inside the shopping cart and Seokjin finding out, followed by a playful scold from him.

You wouldn’t usually come across paparazzi since you made sure to go out really early in the morning and that made you feel safe from any non-wanted attention. 

Seokjin was in the middle of telling a bad pun about the vegetables when you noticed in the corner of your eye a dark figure moving rather quickly to hide behind some stall. It was a man with a camera. You turned around, your back now facing Seokjin and started walking away from him. He stopped laughing and followed you from a really short distance when he noticed you were trying to get away from him.

“Was my joke that bad?” He asked looking hurt. “’Cause it’s really early and my jokes start to get better by ten or eleven a.m.”

“Your puns are always cheesy, not bad,” you commented under your breath, “but there’s a paparazzi behind the stall and-”

Seokjin interrupted you mid-sentence and grabbed your shoulders softly. He leaned down so his face was at the same level of yours and kissed your forehead. His lips stayed there for more time than necessary and then he backed away. There was a soft smile on his face, which you returned.

“It was time for everyone to know how happy you make me. That also means goodbye to our early trips to the grocery store and hello to afternoon dates. How does that sound?”

Yoongi:

Something that you absolutely loved about Yoongi was how hardworking he was. The few times he had opened up about his feelings and past relationships, he mentioned how some people had felt neglected by the amount of time he spent in the studio. You weren’t one of them.

You made sure to show your support and to show you were always cheering for him, so you would visit him frequently and sometimes you would even drag him to get some food in his system. Yoongi would always say something like “my music is my food, but I could have something tasty now that you mention it...”

Today you convinced him to try the new smoothie shop right across the street. There was something about it. It looked bright and colourful, and the smoothies had sugar, Yoongi would need that if he planned on staying up until late as he did. 

The little twinkle of the bell greeted you as you walked into the store, dragging Yoongi inside by his hand. You were ready to leave with your drinks in hand when you noticed the big mass of people with cameras outside. You automatically turned around and acted as if you weren’t with Yoongi, looking for something inside your purse. He looked at you with knotted eyebrows while slurping his smoothie. He asked what was wrong.

“The paparazzi. Go back to the studio and I’ll meet you there in a few.”

Yoongi was having none of that. If you asked him, it was pretty annoying to be constantly hiding you. He was proud of the person he chose to be with and it made no sense to be covering that up.

“Let’s sit down,” he softly offered.

“What?”

He sneaked his finger under your chin and lifted your face a little. “Let’s sit down, right there on that table you told me it had a nice view and all that stuff.”

Your hand was wrapped by his in a second as he led you to said table. Once you two were in front of each other, he smiled and raised his eyebrows at your shocked face.

“This way, we have a nice view, and the paparazzi can take pictures of you; let the world know who makes me happy.”

Hoseok:

The mall wasn’t such a romantic date according to Hoseok. He insisted on taking you to a nice dinner and maybe a walk, but being honest? You just wanted to be with him. He always made everything enjoyable and special, so you didn’t really care about the place as long as he was there.

Hoseok made sure to wear his mask and sunglasses so your date wouldn’t get interrupted by anything. That was the main reason why you usually wouldn’t go out. He didn’t like the idea of you in the middle of the paparazzi or fans. The whole scenario was always crazy and hectic, he didn’t want you to stress because of it. Nevertheless, he figured it out that if he was careful enough and wore the right attire, no one would recognize him in the middle of the crowd. 

You were enjoying talking with him about nothing in particular, the way he would sneak his phone out of his pocket and snap a picture of you and how you two just entered to random stores and looked for the ugliest outfits to try them on and laugh about how silly you looked.

But while you were sharing an ice cream, a hint of light called your attention. There was a man with his camera aiming to Hoseok. Quick enough, you hid behind a couple that was passing by, but Hoseok’s grip made you stop your tracks.

“Where are you going?” He asked with a worried face.

“There’s a paparazzi right there and I-”

His eyes temporarily travelled to the man standing just meters away from you, but then returned to yours. He then pulled up the ice cream cone to your nose, staining it, and kissed the dirty zone with a smug smile.

“Let’s enjoy our date, huh? With that photo, the man has what he needs and we don’t have to be hiding anymore.”

You were so surprised that Hoseok had to call your name a few times for you to follow him since he had already grabbed your bags and was walking away to continue the day.

Namjoon:

He had always wanted to take you on a traditional date. His life as an idol wouldn’t let him take you out to a nice dinner or to the movies and that’s something he yearned for since he debuted. 

An aquarium seemed like a good idea. It was dark, romantic and you certainly had a good time together. You took some photos with the tanks lighted up by the neon lights and enjoyed food while watching what the place had to offer.

At the end of the aquarium, there was a small gift shop that you were dying to visit, so he followed you. While checking the price of the sea turtle plushies, Namjoon heard a little snap behind the glass door of the shop. He didn’t really give it a lot of thought but then there was too much noise outside to ignore it. He turned around and observed the paparazzi practically compressed against the glass, trying to get photos of him. His eyes looked for you, because he knows how intense it can get if a lot of people notice him, but you weren’t by his side. He returned the plushie back on the shelf and turned around to find you trying to hide behind the postcards. 

“What are you doing there?” He asked, still from his spot.

“I- so they won’t see me. Let’s meet at the coffee shop that’s next to the dorms? You can go first, I’ll go in a minute.”

“Absolutely not,” he grumbled as he walked towards you.

Namjoon snaked his arm around your neck and pulled you by his side, completely displaying you in front of the paparazzi. You were paralysed as the people went wild behind the glass. Namjoon was just glad that pictures with flash weren’t permitted inside the aquarium because he was certain they would’ve temporarily blinded you if they were. 

“I’ve finally found someone worth this nightmare, and you want to hide behind some postcards? Yeah, not gonna happen,” Namjoon sighed and tenderly squeezed your shoulder. 

Taehyung:

Taehyung tried really hard to keep you entertained everywhere you went. He always provided his full enthusiasm and smiles to whatever you were doing. He wasn’t really interested in doing something fancy or over the top because he found the most casual locations, like a coffee shop or maybe walking in the park, the best way to actually be comfortable and have a great time with you.

And it was always a mess when you two got loose. Something regularly happened. May it be one of you falling and hurting your knee, or accidentally dropping food over your clothes because you were fooling around with each other. May it be anything, Taehyung would take a photo of it for his “happy accidents album.”

You decided to go for a walk in the park because it was beautiful in spring and the weather was too nice to waste the day inside. After walking for a while, you sat on the swings and talked for what it seemed hours. There was a point when Taehyung got up and started to gently push your back. After a few pushes, you had gained some height in the air and noticed some paparazzi not far away from the playground zone of the park. They were getting nearer and you panicked.

“Tae, stop!”

Immediately, he grabbed the chains of the swing and you almost fell with on your knees because of the sudden action. In your mind, and most likely in real life as well, Taehyung was pouting and confused. An uncomfortable feeling bloomed in your chest.

“There's paparazzi. I have to go now,” you explained already getting up, but Taehyung’s hand on your shoulder taped you in place. “Tae-”

He walked around the swing and stood in front of you. The men with cameras were already there with their devices ready.

“Let them know,” he simply said as he leaned down and kissed your cheek. 

As if nothing had happened, Taehyung returned to his former place and pushed you again. You could only imagine how your face looked in those photos the men were taking.

(this gif gives me major boyfriend vibes. It’s so cute)

Jimin:

Jimin wasn’t really a fan of scary movies. He was truly scared of them if he was honest. Nevertheless, since the day you mentioned your devotion to that genre, he couldn’t get the thought of taking you to the cinema out of his head. Yes, he could easily pick a romantic comedy or something you both might enjoy, but he wanted you to enjoy your date with him. That way you would think about him more than any other thing and he really fancied that idea.

On your way to the movies, you asked a million times, if not more, if he was absolutely sure about watching it. And of course, he said yes, even if he was unsure. You decided not to push it and let him regret it later and learn from it.

While you were buying the snacks for the movie, you couldn’t help but hear the commotion outside the cinema. You easily recognized the cameras and flashes that were coming from behind the glass doors. Jimin’s back was facing the entrance because he was busy retiring the tickets but when he saw them, he walked to your side and smiled reassuringly.

“So, what did you buy for us?” He asked with bright eyes.

Confused about why he was talking to you so bluntly with the paparazzi right outside, you looked the other way, ignoring him.

“Is something wrong?”

And he sounded so hurt, that you couldn’t allow yourself to keep looking the other way.

“I’ll go inside and we’ll meet there, okay? I don’t want the paparazzi to take my picture. Nothing’s wrong, baby.”

Jimin frowned and took a peek at the men crowded outside the door. The constant flashes of their cameras and the people inside who were looking for the source of all the disturbance was starting to make you a little nervous.

“No, let’s go together,” he replied.

With that said, he took your hand with his and maintained your hold noticeable for the paparazzi. There was a remarkable reaction from them. They were more adamant about taking pictures of Jimin and, now, you.

“Shall we go? They have what they needed, don’t they?” He smiled and pulled from your hand, getting you to move and snap out of your trance.

Jungkook:

His first suggestion? “Let’s stay here and play video games. It will be fun!” And yes, you were sure you were going to have fun. It was near impossible not to with his constant tantrums over losing against you. But you suggested something even greater than home and video games: an arcade. Jungkook wasn’t really keen on the idea, stating that it was going to be boring because the games were old and all that. It was easy to convince him. Just a few pouts and a “please, Jungkook” and he was on board.

He would never admit it, but he was actually enjoying the aesthetic of the place and the “old” games that were everywhere he turned. An hour passed, and you were convinced he was more excited than you were, which made you smile smugly with an “I told you so” expression on your face.

You were ready to go back home when your eyes found the DDR at the very back of the arcade. There were no people around it! You were so eager to grab Jungkook’s hand and drag him all the way there but a flash stopped you. Just behind the glass door of the arcade, there were easily ten men with cameras, taking pictures of Jungkook playing Pac-Man. They hadn’t noticed you, so you slowly walked away from there, already pulling out your phone to send a text to Jungkook, indicating where to meet you and why you disappeared.

You turned around and eyed the back exit. Not wanting to look back, you tried to speed up your pace but someone grabbed your wrist and stopped your tracks.

“Where are you going?” Jungkook asked. You didn’t dare to turn around.

“There were paparazzi outside I thought that it wouldn’t be smart to let them photograph me with you.”

You received a sigh as a response. His hand dropped your wrist and, for a moment, you thought he was letting you continue your route, but he walked around you and pulled you against his body, resting his chin on your head.

“I don’t mind,” he hummed.

It was such a tender action and his arms were so delicate around you, you almost forgot about where you stood. 

“Now, I saw a game you might like somewhere around here... Care to let me kick your ass in the DDR?”

He broke the embrace and raised one of his eyebrows. You scoffed and started walking away from him.

“In your dreams, Jeon!”

#bts #bts jungkook #bts jimin #bts rm #bts namjoon #bts taehyung #bts v #bts hoseok #bts jhope #bts seokjin #bts jin #bts yoongi #bts suga #bts fluff #bts reactions #bts reaction #bts smut

[dorkyungsoowrites]

Spontaneous Attraction Ch. 3

Pairings: Kyungsoo x You

Genre: Fluff/Angst/Future Smut | Ambiguous AU

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.3k

Description: Your first date with the handsome stranger.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 |

You couldn't get him out of your head. You were constantly distracted at work, wondering if he would actually show up. It was two days later he texted with a new phone and set up a date two weeks out. It was the only communication you had with him until you arrived at the restaurant he had suggested. You had put on slightly nicer clothes than what you normally wore and waited anxiously outside the doors. Ten minutes late, you spotted him crossing the street nearby and sighed in relief. You took a deep breath to calm the pounding in your chest and smiled as he approached you. He was wearing a dark grey suit sans tie. You had to take another deep breath.

"Hello," you greeted slightly nervous. "You look really handsome." He looked down at himself like he wasn't sure you were seeing the same person, but smiled a little anyway.

"Thank you. You look pretty girl--pretty good--I mean, you look--" he sighed frustratedly. "I like your outfit." Your smile had widened as he stumbled over his words. It made you feel better knowing he was just as nervous as you. It took some of the pressure off.

"Thanks." You extended your hand. "My name is Y/N. It's a pleasure meeting you." He shook it once and let go. There was no magic spark. His palm was kind of clammy actually. Butterflies weren't bombarding your stomach, but when he introduced himself you just knew it was going to be a good night. Call it intuition, but there was something about this man that made you want to find out more. There was a mystery behind his dark, emotive eyes. You were eager to read it.

"It's a pleasure meeting you properly. I'm Kyungsoo. I'm also sorry I'm late."

"It's fine," you assured. "I'm glad I get the chance to talk to you again, Kyungsoo." He turned toward the front door and you followed. "What a lovely name." He didn't respond, but as he held the door open for you you caught the pink tint to his cheeks. He gave his name to the host, and you were lead to a booth near the back of the restaurant he reserved. It wasn't that the place was particularly fancy, but he had reserved a time anyway so you didn't need to wait. Which made you wonder how far back he had called. It was a popular place. Maybe he even called right after you agreed to the venue. The thought made you smile. Sitting down across from him, he didn't speak until the waiter introduced themselves and left you with menus and water. He un-buttoned his jacket to sit more comfortably.

"I'm not exactly sure how to start this."

"A conversation?" you questioned with a light chuckle. He didn't agree, but he didn't refute your statement either. "Then allow me to help you out. Did you make up with your friends for dragging you to a club?"

"I don't think they'll be trying that again," he answered ominously. "My roommate was just happy I was okay after disappearing. The others, endless teasing about sleeping at a strange woman's place."

"I guess it does sound kind of crazy. I bet they told you not to text me."

"You would be right."

"I can't blame them. My roommate would flip if she knew I was out on a date with a stranger."

"You didn't tell anyone?" he asked, surprised. Your smile turned bashful, glancing away a second. How were his eyes so intense?

"I know it sounds stupid, but I kind of liked the idea that I had this secret friend. It felt special." You couldn't read his expression. You scanned through the menu a minute. Kyungsoo spoke up suddenly, saying evenly,

"My roommate gave you a nickname." You looked at him through your eyelashes.

"Oh? What is it?"

"Ms. Anonymous."

"So do you have just the one roommate like me?"

"There's quite a few of us, but it's a big place."

"Are you ready to order?" The waiter had come back. You sat straight and nodded. After the waiter walked away you thought about more conversation topics.

"Do you listen to a lot of music?" He visibly stiffened, but his tone remained steady.

"Yes." Your eyes shined with excitement.

"What kind of genres are your favorite?" His shoulders relaxed. You shrugged it off.

"Most of what I listen to is pop or hip-hop, but I'll listen to just about any genre if the music is good."

"What makes the music good for you?" you asked with genuine interest. He hesitated, brows knitting together in confusion.

"I've never been asked that before."

"Sorry, no pressure. Music is one of the few things I know a lot about, and I love it so much I can get carried away sometimes talking about it. I'm a musician." His eyes went wide only for a second, otherwise showing no reaction.

"I thought you ran a motel for drunk strangers."

"Only in my free time," you chuckled. "Most of the time I teach private lessons and freelance around the city."

"What genres do you love most?"

"Oh I listen to everything, but not all as much as I'd like to. Work and looking for work keeps me pretty occupied. Though I guess classical, jazz, and rock are the majority of stuff I listen to lately. I'll listen to pop or hip-hop if it's on the radio sometimes, but I've never found an artist I really got into. To be fair I haven't really been looking. I can't stand country music, though. That's the only thing I'll never listen to if I can help it. They all sound the same, and not in the snobby classically trained musician way. I mean they actually sound freakishly similar. At least in pop there's an artistry to it, but country artists don't even try."

"An artistry to pop?" Kyungsoo repeated. Color him intrigued. Music he knew. Music he could connect with.

"Sure, if you pay attention. There's a reason it has its own genre. There are trope keys to put a song in and over-used chords, but they can be super creative and diverse in structure and variety and I love that. My old friends hated pop music cause they thought it was too repetitive, but if you find the right artist I think it can be great. Meaningful lyrics, the perfectly timed silence, or a good cluster chord, or a catchy bridge can make all the difference in my opinion. I'll listen to the same crappy song a million times if I like the chord progression. Ooh, or when there's a more melodic song and they modulate. It's so cliche, but I love hearing that. And when you find an artist whose voice you love and you get those descants?" You exhaled, speaking dreamily. "That's just so powerful. You get chills, but like, you feel calm at the same time. You know what I mean?" You noticed his expression hadn't changed, only listening with that intense stare. You couldn't tell what he was thinking, but felt like he could see straight through you. It withered your confidence slightly. "Sorry, stop me if I sound boring. We can talk about something else. Like, what do you do in your spare time?"

"You don't sound boring at all," he replied cooly. "You're passionate about music. I'd love to hear more of your thoughts on it." Your face felt like it was on fire.

"Okay," you giggled nervously. As you sipped some water he asked,

"Are you warm? There's a vent blowing on this side if you want to switch."

"No, just flustered," you admitted bluntly. "I wasn't expecting you to be interested in my rants. Have you ever played an instrument? I only ask because I just realized I used some music theory terms and I don't want to assume anything."

"I'm decent at piano, and yes, I understand music theory."

"Oh a piano boy? Fun. Well then, Kyungsoo, what dumb thing would you like to hear me rant about in music next?"

"I don't know. What about the question you asked me earlier? What makes the music good for you?"

"That's a complicated answer," you grinned, leaning your arms on the edge of the table.

"We have all night." You sipped your water one more time. The longer you spent with him the more you liked him.

"I love it." Kyungsoo tilted his head like a confused puppy. "I love music. Always have, always will. It makes me happy. It's that feeling you get in the pit of your stomach and the center of your chest where you know things are just...right." You shrugged and added, "as long as there's that, I think you shouldn't hold back and love without reserve. I don't know how else to explain it." You tried to live life like that as well, which explained why you asked a stranger on a date only because you had a 'good feeling' about his personality. The corner of his mouth lifted.

"I think I understand."

"I think it's story time," you declared, straightening your posture. "So it starts with me burning a lesson book and ends with a dog howling on stage."

"What?" Kyungsoo half-chuckled as his eyes turned to saucers.

"It's a fun story, I swear. Okay, so I was like eight years old. My piano teacher kept trying to get me to play Fur Elise for a recital, but I wanted to try something harder like a Brahms intermezzo. She wasn't having it so naturally my friend and I thought if I 'lost' it I'd be free to play what I wanted. Apparently we didn't know that printers existed. So the sheet music was tragically charred, but my idiot brain forgot another flaw in our plan; I had Fur Elise memorized from day one. I could probably still play it now from muscle memory alone I am so bitter about that song and Moonlight Sonata, and Canon in D. Anyway, the day of the recital my neighbor informs me her dog recently had a litter of puppies and wondered if our parents would be willing to adopt one. I mean it was a heavy burden," you over dramatized your hand gestures. "But I was willing to carry that puppy all the way to the car. I mean you see where this is going, right?"

"You brought a puppy to your recital? Have you always been crazy?"

"Everyone's a little crazy. I had it in the green room, but it got out somehow. So it runs out, plants itself next to the piano bench, and starts trying to sing along to Fur Elise. It was so adorable."

"Did your parents let you keep it?"

"Alas, no. Turned out we never had pets cause my dad was allergic, but a friend who also played in the recital was able to take it home. Named her Opera. I wish I'd kept in touch with him. He was a close friend growing up."

The rest of the night went perfectly. You kept casual conversation with Kyungsoo until the food arrived when you ate in comfortable silence. You kept catching each other stealing glances and smiling. Those eyes drawing you in every time you felt their weight on you. Hooded through his long eyelashes. Intimidating yet kind. At one point you couldn't hold back and said,

"You have really intense eyes." Kyungsoo froze and looked at you straight on.

"I'm sorry, I was glaring wasn't I? I promise I didn't mean to scare you. I--"

"It's okay," you interrupted with a grin. He must have been told off in the past before. That was the only reason you could think of for why he'd have such a strong reaction. You had the urge to reach out to comfort him, but the table made that impossible. Your fingers curling back in once you reached your water glass. "You're not scary at all, Kyungsoo." He pressed his lips shut tight and swallowed thickly. "I was trying to compliment you. I didn't think you were glaring. I just really like your eyes. Maybe I should've said amazing. I'm sorry."

"You think they're amazing?" he mumbled in disbelief. You glanced down and snagged your lip with your teeth briefly.

"Yeah."

"Oh...thank you." After a moment you caught sight of him reaching for you. Meeting you halfway on the tabletop. Your heartbeat picked up its pace as his fingers feathered over your knuckles. He covered your hand with his, squeezing once gently. He was so warm. When you looked up he offered an impish smile which you returned. Then you both took your hands back at the same time to continue eating. When dinner was over he walked you outside.

"I had a wonderful time," you told him with a shy smile. He mimicked it, putting his hands in his pockets.

"I had wonderful company." Your smile widened, heart racing.

"Can I see you again?"

"I think I'd like that, Y/N. I'll text you when I learn my work schedule monday."

"Maybe this time...movie night? My place?"

"What about your roommate?"

"She works nights at the hospital. She doesn't even have to know you're coming over if you want."

"Why would you think I want that?"

"You seem like a private person. I don't want to push you into anything you're uncomfortable with."

"I am warming up to the idea of being your secret stranger," he said with a soft smile.

"Then I look forward to hearing from you monday."

"Yeah," he replied, eyes practically molten, shimmering amber in the street light. "Have a good weekend."

"I hope you enjoy the rest of your weekend, too. Thank you for an amazing night." Resting a hand on his arm, you leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss to his cheek. "Goodnight, Kyungsoo." It might have been your imagination, but you could have sworn he blushed. With a small wave, you both went your separate ways.

#exo #exo fanfiction #exo scenario #exo scenarios #exo fluff #kyungsoo #kyungsoo x reader #kyungsoo fluff #d.o #fluff #humor

[made-me-deep-blue]

Love your fics especially the latest one! can you write a fluffy Kamilah x mc fic inspired from Chapter 14 of Bloodbound?

“Guess you didn’t know that you were my favourite entertainer.”

-

Amelia gazed outside the window from Kamilah’s office, with a glass of red wine in hand. After clocking in a good long night shift, she had to stop herself from falling asleep while walking hand in hand with Kamilah towards her office because of the alcohol involved.

Kamilah’s gaze traced the outline of Amelia’s body that was clearly seen through the long black sleeved blouse and a tight skin coloured pencil skirt. Sometimes she wondered if Amelia wore those clothes purposely just to turn her on, or it’s just that she really had a good taste in fashion. Like really good.

It only took the vampire a few strides before snaking her hand around Amelia’s waist and placed it on her stomach. “Hello, beautiful. Enjoying the view?”

“Hey, you,” Amelia replied, her gaze not leaving the city skyline. “Having red wine should be my post-work drink now. If only I had the time to whip up some cooler drinks for you…”

Kamilah raised an eyebrow. Her chin was placed snug at the crook of Amelia’s shoulder. “You were a bartender in college?”

The blue eyed woman laughed, and then sighed, grinning. “I used work at the bar that my family owned just a few blocks from my old apartment before I moved to New York after college. I’ve worked there since I finished middle school so I’ve learned tips and tricks that most bartenders don’t.”

“Interesting,” Kamilah said. “How about just your blood?”

Amelia rolled her eyes, but a smile still could be seen on her lips reflected on the glass windows. “I know you like the taste of my blood, my love. I’ll do anything for you.”

“To the private suite then?”

“Yes, of course.”

-

Just like Adrian’s private suite, Kamilah’s own one was levels lower than her office. It was only a month ago that Amelia discovered that Kamilah had a secret room with shelves of different alcohol of different time periods. The vampire queen needed to resist giggling at the awed look on Amelia’s face.

“First of all,” the blonde haired woman placed her hands on her hips, turning on her heel so she could turn and face Kamilah. “I’m going to have to drop by the alcohol lounge to grab some drinks and also, I need your help…in extracting some of my blood.”

Kamilah nodded, and Amelia disappeared behind the shelf.

A few minutes later, a sound of triumph made Kamilah look up from her phone. Amelia had a bottle of red wine, sparkling water, cointreau, cranberry juice and a package of items needed to draw out her blood.

After dropping off the items at the kitchen counter, Amelia tore open the package and lined up the things included that would usually be present during a blood donation drive. She was a volunteer before, and one of her older brothers is a certified doctor, so she had the doctor and bartender bloodline in her. It’s definitely an interesting mix.

Amelia bit her lips as she watched the blood dripping fast into the small tube, and Kamilah pressing gently onto her vein to give more pressure. Once it was full, Kamilah quickly capped the tube of blood and threw away her surgical gloves and the used needle, but she had to take a quick taste of her lover’s blood. It was either on vampire instinct or she just loved drinking Amelia’s blood.

She playfully smacked Kamilah’s arm as she passed by her to dispose of the now cleaned needle. “You ass, I’m going to make you a drink that has my blood and here you are sneaking some taste before I even got started.”

Kamilah smirked. “What can I say? I love you and your blood.”

“Yes, yes, I know that,” Amelia said, opening the bottle of fresh red wine. “Now, stay patient while I get your drink really.”

When Kamilah tells people that Adrian’s assistant used to be a bartender and a volunteer at blood donation drives with her older brother, those people usually don’t believe it. If they could only see Amelia’s hands flourish with the drinks, ingredients and the shaker.

Once, one of Kamilah’s employees said that she visited Amelia’s hometown in London and spotted her serving cocktails with such skill. Many people, especially the ladies, were high impressed by the many tricks she could do once she slips behind the bar.

Despite the many offers to work at high-classed casinos, she decided to live a new life in New York and work at Raines Corporation. Amelia graduated from college with a major in biological sciences and psychology, and the bartending was only a family business, so it doesn’t seem weird for a family bartender to work with Adrian Raines.

“Your drink is ready!” Amelia called out from the kitchen.

Kamilah strode over and looked at the drink over Amelia’s shoulder. The dark pools of red swirled, reminding her of the regular doses of red wine she would have after a day’s work, and also Amelia’s blood. The mixed scents of the alcohol, the fruitiness from the cranberry juice and the sweet, humanly smell of the blood.

“What are you waiting for, silly?” Amelia laughed and kissed Kamilah’s temple. “Go ahead and have a drink!”

#playchoices #choices stories you play #choices: bloodbound #kamilah sayeed #kamilah x mc #bartender au mc #english mc #you know what i mean #fluff #my writing

[adorkablephil]

Fic: Hide Not Your Face (Chapters 3 and 4)

Title: Hide Not Your Face Summary: Chemistry grad student Phil Lester wants to make the world a better place, but a strange creature named Dan appears when Phil tests a potion intended to get rid of negative emotions. Rating: Teen (for a bit of language) Word Count: 3.4k (Chapter 3), 3.8k (Chapter 4) Tags: Phandom Reverse Bang, Scientist AU, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Magical Realism, Fantasy, Science Fiction, Angst, Angst with A Happy Ending Author’s Note: Thanks again to the @phandomreversebang, @ribenaflip, and @rwdaf! There wasn’t much interest in the first two chapters of this story, so I’m going to post a couple more chapters at once to see if maybe I can get past the slow beginning and maybe people will become more interested. (These chapters won’t make any sense if you don’t read the first two, though, so consult the masterlist.) Also available on AO3 here

[ Chapter Masterlist ]

Chapter 3: Return

***

[excerpt from Philip Lester’s notebook of experimental observations] 14/02/18 07:55 - Ejected trespassing creature (man?) from the premises. Subject (self) experienced feelings of revulsion in the creature’s presence, utterly at odds with all other concurrent positive emotions, aside from an uncomfortable conflict with the feeling of sympathy. Easily resolved once the creature had gone. 08:00 - Ensured that remaining 150 ml of potion was safely secured in a sealed glass bottle in temperature-controlled container at precisely 15° Celsius. Effects on initial subject to be observed for one week (UNTIL 15:30 HOURS 20/02/18) before application to additional volunteer test subjects. In reaction to the experiment’s apparent initial success, subject perceived feelings of contentment, excitement, pride, hope, and even elation. 08:30 - Subject departed flat and found positive emotions stimulated further by external environment. The brisk coolness of a breeze against the skin, the beautiful pale light of the sun, the sight and sound of birds taking flight nearby, the shining faces of busy passersby in their colorful clothing—all inspired feelings of happiness, optimism, and good will. 08:45 - Subject tasted coffee for the first time since ingestion of the potion. Bliss. 09:00 - Subject felt an unusual degree of appreciation for Professor Solomon’s seminar on “Advanced Chromatin Structure” and contributed to the discussion with enthusiasm.

***

It was a glorious day.

Phil felt as if he’d had the best night’s sleep of his life, as he felt more cheerful and energetic than any other time he could remember. Everything he saw or heard just served to make him even happier. And he felt none of his usual self-doubt or anxiety.

He’d finally perfected his experimental solution. He felt certain of it.

His entire life, he’d been dreaming of this. Despite his naturally cheerful disposition, he’d suffered moments of unhappiness, like most people. He’d sometimes felt almost crippled by anxiety and self-doubt. And worst of all had been the moments when he’d lost his temper. Speaking or acting in anger always made him feel guilty for weeks afterward. Even just shouting at the video game had shamed him! He wanted to always be generous and kind, always be able to see the other person’s perspective, never a bother or problem. This was what he had always wanted: to be simply happy.

After Professor Solomon’s fascinating discussion in seminar, Phil decided to go for a bit of a walk before returning to his flat. The day was so beautiful, he just didn’t want to hide away in his literally monastic flat away from the fresh air and sunshine. So he walked through a local park, enjoying the sounds of the birds in the trees, the sight of the bright yellow daffodils, the jewel-like green of the grass. Springtime in London was so lovely!

He smiled at the people he passed along the path, and some of them smiled back. The majority ignored him, as Londoners are wont to do, but Phil understood that they most likely had things on their mind. He hoped that their days went well.

Eventually, he could no longer wait to return to his flat, because he wanted to reexamine his notes and make a more organized, formal description of his process. This formula might very well change the world, and so Phil knew its importance could not be exaggerated. He was proud of his achievement, but primarily because he hoped that it would help many people to live happier, more productive lives … that it might in fact significantly reduce or even eradicate the world’s problems resulting from anger, sadness, fear, greed, and other negative emotions. He imagined a world with no more war, a world in which everyone felt kindness and generosity toward others!

He nearly raced home after those thoughts, eager to reexamine his notes and prepare them for presentation to a more global community of chemists. Should he publish in one of the more highly respected journals? Or should he instead post the results of his research directly onto the Internet, where chemists all over the world would be able to access the information immediately instead of waiting for the tedious publication process?

Well, in any case, he first needed to allow this first week of observation to pass, taking careful notes on the potion’s effects on himself. And then he would test the formula on a random assortment of other willing test subjects—or as random as he could obtain. He already had a list of students who had participated in previous tests, but he would put up notices on campus and elsewhere in York tomorrow. Online, as well, and perhaps even in the newspaper. Older residents might still get their news from the newspaper, and it would be best to test the formula on subjects as diverse as possible.

Contemplating all of this over a cup of steaming tea and his piles of notes, Phil unexpectedly heard his doorbell chime. While he did have a number of friends, none of them were likely to drop by without the politeness of advance notice. Still, perhaps someone had stopped in just to say hello because they happened to be in the neighborhood. He went to the door with a smile.

***

The smile left his face quickly when he saw the wretched creature that had rung his doorbell. Phil felt an immediate rush of sympathy for the … thing … of course he did. How could he not? But, really, what could one expect? The creature had in fact broken into his flat last night, crouching creepily in the corner until Phil had woken and forced it to leave. What even was it? Not a man, surely. But this was no science-fiction film, and so Phil could not think of what else it might be.

It spoke like a man—a very pitiful man—babbling entreaties and weeping so pathetically on Phil’s doorstep that he motioned the thing inside to at least give it some privacy in its distress. Once he’d had a moment to think, he would decide what to do.

As the creature entered the room, Phil saw that it was—in fact—a man, its deformed appearance merely the result of shoulders bunching up toward the ears and rounding forward in a defensive posture as the creature … the thing … the … young man? As the … young man wrapped his arms around himself, greasy head ducked down as if expecting a blow at any moment.

Protectively hunched over and contorted like that, the fellow did not look quite human now in the shadows of the flat at sunset, and so Phil understood his own morning assumptions before sunlight had even touched the windows, leaving the room quite dark. Yes, this was a man, but Phil completely understood why anyone might doubt the fact in dim lighting and wonder what monstrous thing they faced.

And, to be honest, the morning’s feeling of revulsion persisted, though Phil did not understand its intensity. Phil wanted nothing more than for this person to vacate the premises again and never return. Phil had a great many things to do, and this fellow’s situation, whatever it was, provided a distraction and complication he would prefer not to deal with. As in the morning, however, this instinctive antipathy warred with an equally instinctive wish to be kind, to be generous, and so Phil reluctantly welcomed the thing—he still had difficulty thinking of it as a person—into his home.

The manthing continued to cry fat, streaming tears, begging and thanking Phil in words that flowed so quickly they could barely be distinguished.

Phil interrupted him. The man’s hair was filthy, and Phil gauged the parts of him covered by clothing would likely be no better. “You should take a shower,” Phil said bluntly. The sobs grew even louder, but the fellow nodded in obvious eagerness, and so Phil herded him toward the bathroom, where the grimy sight disappeared behind a closed door and Phil heard the shower turn on.

The young man—man? why did Phil feel so hesitant to label him so?—would need some clean clothes, as the ones he wore looked ready for the bin, and Phil certainly had enough to spare. If he’d guessed correctly, despite the fellow’s contorted position he seemed similar in size to Phil himself, so he picked out a clean pair of jeans, one of his least favorite t-shirts, a hoodie, and some pants and socks.

He knocked on the bathroom door, but heard only the sounds of the shower inside. He opened the door a mere crack and shouted, “I’m leaving clean clothes for you outside the door.” He closed the door again before hearing any response and set the pile of clothing on the floor. Phil then returned to his kitchen laboratory, his pile of notes, and his cup of tea, though it had now grown rather unpleasantly cold. He dumped it down the sink and put on a fresh kettle. The fellow in the shower certainly looked like he too could do with a cuppa.

And perhaps then Phil could send him on his way. He imagined himself afterward with the glowing feeling of having done a good deed for a very odd and unpleasant stranger whom he would never see again.

***

The form that emerged from the bathroom in Phil’s own clothing looked decidedly more human, though the shoulders still hunched unattractively. The fellow’s skin now looked more pale than gray, and his hair, no longer flat with grease, now looked rather unruly in thick, shaggy waves. He could seriously use a haircut, but the features now more visible on his cleaned face were surprisingly handsome. The smooth, boyish jawline made him look softly vulnerable, and his lips looked plump and pink, though a bit chapped.

Why was Phil looking at this stranger’s lips? He abruptly averted his gaze upward.

The eyes that did not quite meet Phil’s were an almost golden shade of brown—like the tea before he’d added the milk—red-rimmed, no doubt by tears. Without a word, Phil held out a mug of piping hot tea, milky and sweet, and the cringing young man took it with pathetic gratitude.

They both drank their tea in silence for a moment, and then Phil asked, “What’s your name?”

The other man mumbled several words into his steaming mug, but Phil thought perhaps he’d understood half of them. “Your name is Don?”

“Don” shrugged uncomfortably, glancing toward the floor, and Phil guessed that was the best answer he was going to get out of him. Don just kept slowly sipping the tea, closing his eyes and holding the mug with both hands as if trying to get warm, though the radiator was working just fine and the flat was quite comfortable. Phil watched him, puzzled, forgetting the mug in his own hands.

When Don had finished his tea, though Phil had barely touched his own, he handed the mug back to Phil and said, much more clearly, “Thank you for that. It was lovely. The most lovely thing all day.” His voice sounded surprisingly posh and articulate coming from such a hunched and pathetic figure, but he looked at Phil with a tremulous smile, and Phil felt an upwelling of generosity and kindness for this poor fellow to whom a simple cup of tea had been such a blessing.

But Phil reminded himself that he had things to do. Important things. And this man had his own life to live … elsewhere. Phil was glad he’d been able to offer some simple comforts, but it was time for Don to continue on his way. But apparently Phil’s thoughts had been evident on his face, because Don rushed forward, hands reaching out as if to touch Phil’s but then pulling away again and wringing together anxiously.

“I know you don’t want me here,” Don said, his voice desperate as it had been in the doorway but more intelligible now. “I know that you told me to go away. But … I did bad things when I was out there today. I yelled at people … and I stole a woman’s handbag … and I was angry and frightened and…” Don stopped, but not as if he had finished speaking. Rather as if he was having trouble finding words or courage for what he wanted to say. He looked into Phil’s face, his brown eyes hollow and sad, and he admitted solemnly, “I wasn’t a good person out there. I didn’t like the person I was.” He looked down at his hands as they clung to each other in desperation. He spoke more quietly, more sadly when he continued, “Maybe I’m still not a good person.” He looked up to meet Phil’s gaze again and said, “But I don’t feel so angry here. Nor so afraid. I feel … safer … better … here.” He looked down at his hands again, sparing Phil that intense gaze, and pled miserably, “Please? I know you don’t want me here, but … please? May I stay?”

***

[excerpt from Philip Lester’s notebook of experimental observations] 14/02/18 17:55 - The creature has returned and appears to be a young man, or at least in man shape, though his/its origins remain mysterious. How did it gain entrance to my bedroom this morning? Why does it seem so repugnant to me when all other negative emotions seem to have abated or disappeared? And why do I also feel an odd and unexplainable connection to this creature? I have reluctantly agreed to allow him to stay in the flat overnight. I wish only for him (it?) to be gone, but gentler emotions, no doubt strengthened by the potion, make it impossible for me to reject him entirely. Surely none of this pertains in any important way to the experiment at hand, but I record these observations purely for scientific thoroughness, for one never knows what seemingly insignificant detail may later contribute to a crucial breakthrough!

***

Phil ordered Indian for supper and set aside his work to share an uncomfortably silent meal with his unwelcome guest. Don did not speak at all and kept his eyes, for the most part, directed toward his food, his hands, or the floor.

When Phil prepared for bed, he gave Don a blanket and pillow so that he might make himself comfortable on the sofa in the lounge. But the young man would not be happy with even that much. Why must he always ask for more than Phil wished to give?

“May I sleep in your room?” Don asked, stammering. He blushed brightly and quickly explained, “Not in your bed, of course! Of course not! Just … perhaps … in the corner? Where I woke this morning? I don’t mind the floor. And I feel…” he hesitated, then looked up to meet Phil’s gaze, those golden brown eyes full of entreaty, “I feel safer … closer to you.” He shrugged a shoulder awkwardly and looked away again, toward the aforementioned corner. There was longing in his body language as well as his eyes, and Phil found that the plea touched his heart. He certainly did not want this stranger—this creature that did not even seem quite human—sleeping in his bedroom, but his own kind heart would not allow him to refuse.

***

During the night, Phil woke to the sound of Don whimpering in the darkness. “Don?” Phil whispered, but received no answer. Was the thing having nightmares?

Lying awake now in his bed, unable to fall back asleep, Phil contemplated the fact that though he felt sympathy, he didn’t actually feel bad at the thought that this Don suffered.

To be honest, Phil simply didn’t feel bad anymore.

Sorrow and guilt and pain and doubt … all were gone. The potion had been successful in accomplishing that! He prided himself on the fact that he did not feel angry that Don had returned. Anger, too, had been eradicated, of course. He just felt sympathy for the poor soul, that distant kind of sympathy that is so easy when it does not inconvenience our lives.

He certainly did not want this Don to suffer, but he really just wished that the whole issue would disappear, that it would no longer inconvenience Phil personally. He longed for Don to leave, so that Phil did not have to see him or deal with him, and Phil could return to the happiness of the earlier part of his day.

He did not want to face this … ugliness in his life. This … unhappiness. This … suffering. It was unpleasant.

He’d given this Don fellow a place to sleep, hadn’t he? Most people would not have done even that much! He felt a bit better as he thought this, but also some small voice in the back of his mind wondered why he worked so hard to convince himself.

***

And, somehow, Phil found himself not forcing Don to leave in the morning. Don implored silently, simply gazing at Phil with such sadness in his eyes, that Phil agreed that he could stay another night. It would be cruel to force Don to leave, and the potion had leached all cruelty from Phil’s psyche, so he allowed the man to stay.

It continued for three more days, in fact. Phil came and went to the university, trying to ignore Don’s presence, trying to focus on his tedious coursework and much more fascinating experimental observations regarding the potion, the effects of which seemed to be permanent, much to Phil’s joy and pride.

But it was difficult to ignore the morose, shadowy presence that lurked around the flat. Don apparently figured out how to play Fortnite on the PlayStation, because before coming into the flat after a day at the university, Phil often heard him through the door, loudly berating the game with elaborate insults. When Phil opened the door, however, Don always leapt off the sofa as if burnt by hot coals and retreated to loiter in the corner of the bedroom where his pillow and blanket lay, as if he were a dog with a bed on the floor.

Strangely enough, when Phil himself played Fortnite now, he never became particularly emotionally invested. He enjoyed the challenge of the game, but he never shouted or raged at the screen as he once had … or as Don did, when he did not know that Phil could hear him.

This cringing, unstable, unpleasant creature seemed to embody all the things Phil had previously disliked about himself, and so having him always nearby felt like constantly reopening a wound that had barely begun to heal. Don was anxious, sad, pessimistic, guilty, and occasionally even frustrated or annoyed, though he seemed to try to hide those feelings from Phil, always making abject apologies if he expressed aggravation, as if constantly afraid that Phil might force him to leave again.

Phil wondered why he didn’t force him to leave again.

The problem was the damned sympathy, kindness, generosity—all the things he had wanted to strengthen with his potion—they wouldn’t allow him to put Don out on the streets … and yet he could barely stand to be in the unpleasant man’s presence.

So they lived an awkward life together those few days. Until Phil received a text from his younger brother, Martyn that changed his plans.

Martyn: pls come home at the wknd!

The exclamation point indicated that Martyn was clearly extremely upset. Martyn rarely bothered with punctuation in his texts.

Don’s response surprised him. When Phil said he’d be gone for a couple days, Don begged him not to leave. Even when Phil reluctantly offered to allow Don to stay in the flat while he was gone, Don still wept and pled for him not to leave him alone. In the end, he actually closed the door in Don’s face and ran down the stairs until he could no longer hear the sobs echoing from his own flat.

***

After two fairly uneventful days with his family in Rawtenstall, Phil was still on the train back to York when he received an unexpected text from Martyn. They’d just seen each other! What did his little brother want now? The conversation made little sense to him.

Martyn: what ws that all about

Phil: What do you mean?

Martyn: with mum n dad

Phil: I just want everyone to be happy.

Martyn: well im not happy!

Phil: What did you want me to do, Martyn?

Martyn: i wnted u to stnd up for me!

Phil: Stand up for you how?

Martyn: …

Martyn: nvr mind “BRO”

Martyn: wont bother you nxt time

***

***

Chapter 4: Realization

Author’s Note: The RNCM is the Royal Northern College of Music in Manchester.

***

When the door closed behind Phil, Dan stood there for a moment staring at it until he heard the key turn in the lock and knew that Phil had really left. Then Dan turned to rest his back against the wall and slowly slid down to sit on the floor, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around them.

Phil had said that he would be gone for “a couple of days,” but that Dan could stay here while he was gone. Dan had heard the reluctance in his voice. He knew Phil didn’t want him here, whether Phil was present or not.

And he kept calling him “Don,” but Dan hadn’t felt brave enough to correct him. What right did Dan have to that name, anyway. He had just chosen it for himself because of one kind person. Because of a mistake.

Rage boiled up in him all of a sudden. Phil had no right to treat him with such callous disregard! Whatever had happened to Dan—whatever had caused him to appear so mysteriously and feel so unnatural—he knew for certain that Phil had played some role in it, but he refused to even listen to anything Dan said.

The rage subsided again as Dan admitted to himself that he hadn’t actually attempted to say much of anything. He hadn’t wanted to bother Phil, frightened that Phil would finally make him leave permanently if he became a true nuisance and not just a quiet annoyance.

The anger surged again. Dan was more than just a nuisance, more than just an annoyance! Maybe he didn’t know how he’d come to be here, but now he had a right to all of the good things that Phil had! Why should Phil have this happy, beautiful life, while Dan cowered in the shadows, begging for scraps? And why should Phil spend all his time in that stupid kitchen laboratory, poring over those stupid notebooks and papers, tinkering with all those bits of glass and metal while Dan sat, alone and ignored, in the same flat?

Dan rose to his feet and strode into the kitchen. He pictured himself smashing the whole lot. Everything. Every piece of glass, every delicate metal instrument, swept off the table and ground under the soles of his second-hand shoes. He picked up a beaker and hefted it in his hand, then raised his arm, preparing to throw it across the room, imagining the satisfying crash when the glass shattered against the wall.

But then he imagined Phil’s face when he returned and saw the wreckage. Phil, who was always so happy. Phil, who was, at the very worst, indifferent. He imagined Phil finally truly hurt, truly sad.

Dan didn’t imagine that Phil would be angry, but he did imagine that Phil would regret the loss of his precious equipment, and that he would rightfully blame Dan for repaying his kindness with such betrayal. And Dan didn’t want to see that expression on Phil’s face, didn’t want to see those pale eyes look at him in disappointment and regret … regret that he had agreed to help Dan in the first place.

Even if Dan’s very presence was somehow Phil’s fault.

Carefully, so very carefully, knowing that it was dear to Phil, Dan set the beaker back onto the counter. He stood there, glancing down at Phil’s loose pages of notes, but they were just a bunch of letters and numbers with arrows and other symbols. They meant something to Phil, something important, but they made no sense to Dan.

None of this made any sense to Dan.

And he already missed Phil.

Why should he miss someone who barely acknowledged his existence? And yet he did. Phil, working so excitedly at his lab table. Phil, with his black hair falling across his forehead. Phil, impatiently pushing his glasses up when they began to slide down his nose because he was leaning forward too enthusiastically. Phil, who looked so beautiful when the colors of the stained glass dyed his pale skin a myriad of hues before he woke in the morning. Phil, with his warm, ready smile.

Except when he looked at Dan.

He never smiled when he looked at Dan.

And Dan suddenly realized that he really wished that, even just once, he could see Phil smile at him like that, with that happy expression Dan had only glimpsed occasionally when Phil forgot he was there and didn’t realize he was looking.

Everything felt better when Phil was there. Now he remembered being out on the street, how unkind everyone had been, the woman with the handbag, the little girl who said he was ugly.

Dan walked to the bedroom and lay down on his blanket in the corner. The light from the stained glass windows shone in vivid colors across the rest of the room, across the floor and Phil’s soft bed. Dan didn’t know for sure that it was soft, of course, but he imagined that it was. It looked soft.

Holding back tears, Dan hugged his pillow and pulled the blanket up to cover him in his corner where the multi-colored light never reached, and he tried to sleep. Perhaps he could sleep for days. Perhaps he could sleep until Phil came home.

***

He woke to the rumble of his stomach. Based on the dimness of the room, he had slept for several hours. He went to the kitchen, but realized that Phil had always provided their meals. Another example of his kindness to Dan. Dan felt a rush of affection for this person who really had been kind to him, but whom Dan had given too little gratitude. He would do better about that when Phil returned.

Dan opened the refrigerator, but saw only glass containers containing substances that definitely did not look like food. Rummaging then through the cabinets, he found only a box of biscuits. He had no money, no way of obtaining food, and no real idea of how he would go about doing it anyway.

The thought crossed his mind that he could leave—could find his way to St. Mary’s, perhaps they would give him soup as Henry had suggested—but his heart tightened in his chest at the thought of abandoning Phil’s apartment, perhaps never seeing Phil again. Or, even worse, coming back to find Phil here, Phil not allowing him back inside.

No, he wouldn’t take the chance of leaving. He felt safest with Phil nearby, but for now at least he had Phil’s things around him.

He ate a biscuit. It was stale, but he ate it anyway.

He played some Fortnite, trying to pass the time, but mostly just sulked in his solitude.

***

That night, he curled up again in his corner with his blanket and pillow. The blanket and pillow that Phil had given him. He hadn’t needed to do that, but he had. Because he was kind. Dan smiled to himself, thinking of Phil’s moments of kindness toward him. He tried to block out all the times when Phil had ignored him or seemed impatient or expressly insisted that Dan leave. He tried to just remember the moments when he’d seen the good in Phil, and he smiled to himself again and curled up under his blanket and tried to sleep, even though he’d slept much of the day.

He would sleep as much as he could to speed the time until Phil returned.

***

The next day, Dan roamed the flat a bit, looking at the books on Phil’s shelves, which surprisingly included quite a few novels among the boring textbooks. Dan flipped through them but didn’t find anything to catch his interest. He was just passing time.

When he couldn’t stand the hunger anymore, he ate another biscuit. There weren’t many, so he was going to have to make them last. He wasn’t sure precisely when Phil planned to return, and there wouldn’t be any additional food until then.

He sat for a while on the sofa in the lounge, but didn’t pick up the PlayStation controller. In the afternoon, light shone very brightly indeed through the windows, spangling Dan himself with all the colors of the rainbow as he sat there. He basked in the imagined warmth, feeling only slightly guilty, as if the bright hues belonged to Phil, as if Dan’s illicit enjoyment of their beauty somehow stole something from the other man.

If Dan was even a man. Was he? If not, then what? His enjoyment of the bright colors faded entirely as he brooded. He still could not understand how or why he had appeared in Phil’s bedroom with no memories before that moment. He knew something was wrong there—something very wrong—but he didn’t understand what. It left him feeling as if he were the one who was wrong.

Except, to be honest, that wasn’t a new feeling. It had been there since the beginning.

He looked at the stained glass itself, the framed religious designs from the original monastery reaching nearly floor to ceiling, and regarded the avenging angel depicted in the nearest window.

Would an angel smite him down, or avenge him? Was Dan himself something to be defended or destroyed? The impassive expression on the angel’s face gave him no hints.

That night, his heart aching with confusion and his stomach aching with hunger, he ate the last biscuit and threw the packaging into the bin before retiring to his corner of the bedroom again. For the first time, he noticed that the radiator did not reach this part of the flat as well as it heated the rest, so he lay in perhaps the coldest area possible. The lights were off, with only the dimness of the street lights through stained glass illuminating the bedroom in muted reds and greens and blues.

Dan lay on the floor and gazed longingly at Phil’s bed. It looked so soft. So soft and so warm.

Surely Phil would never know if he greedily stole a bit of that warmth for himself. Just for a few moments. Just for the comfort to balance the gnawing of his empty belly. He would give himself perhaps five minutes. Just long enough to get truly warm, so that he could take that warmth back with him to his chilly corner.

Glancing around as if Phil might suddenly appear without warning, Dan sidled toward the bed and ran a hand over the downy duvet. It was soft. Very carefully, hoping to leave no evidence of his trespass, Dan slid between the sheets, pulling the divinely cozy duvet up to his chin, letting his head rest on the pillow that held a faint scent. He recognized the smells of the shampoo and soaps from Phil’s bathroom, but there were subtle other scents there as well. He’d never been near enough to Phil to notice a particular smell to him, but now he knew that this scent on the pillow must be the smell of Phil’s skin and hair.

Dan rested his cheek against the pillow, clutching the soft sheets and duvet close, seeing the dim colors from the windows lambent all around him, and felt a deep sense of contentment like none he’d ever previously experienced. Not that he could remember, anyway. He closed his eyes, just for a moment, just to bask in the comfort and happiness of that wonderful feeling … and without even realizing it slipped almost immediately into a deep, restful sleep with shining dreams of a loving, gentle, happy Phil lying there beside him.

***

“What are you doing in my bed?” The shout woke Dan so abruptly that he nearly flew out of the bedclothes, landing in a blinking, confused heap of limbs on the floor beside the bed.

“I’m sorry,” he stammered immediately, still not nearly awake. “I’m sorry. I was just so cold. And I was hungry. And I was … the bed looked so warm and so soft … I’m so sorry!” Tears sprang to his eyes and he wiped at them in frustration. How could he have been so stupid as to fall asleep in Phil’s own bed? Surely Phil would make him leave now. And he didn’t even have his shoes on. Would Phil give him time to at least put his shoes on?

But Phil’s expression looked troubled. “Hungry?” he repeated in confusion, and then he glanced toward the kitchen.

Dan shrugged uncomfortably, still sitting in an awkward pile on the floor beside the bed, afraid to move.

Phil abruptly slapped a hand to his forehead and shook his head in obvious disgust, then looked toward Dan with the gentlest, saddest expression Dan had ever seen on his face. “I didn’t leave you any food, did I? You must be starving!”

Dan looked down at the floor, overwhelmed by that look on Phil’s face. “There were … there were some biscuits … in the cabinet…” he mumbled, shrugging again.

Phil walked toward him and Dan instinctively raised a hand as if to ward off a blow, but Phil only grasped the raised hand and pulled Dan to his feet. “What do you want me to order? Chinese? Thai? Indian? Pizza?” And he smiled at Dan. A real smile, full of warmth and apology. Had he forgotten that he’d caught Dan in his bed?

Dan felt himself blushing in response to the compassion in that look, perhaps even affection? No, obviously not affection. His fantasies from the previous night were obviously tainting his perceptions. Phil would never feel affection for him. Never. Phil had made that more than clear. Dan wasn’t even a real person. Phil could never care about him.

But the smile he gave Dan now made Dan feel like maybe he was glowing from the inside, glowing like the light from the stained glass windows, and Phil would be able to see it, and so he blushed even harder.

“Um…” he began, but didn’t know where to go from there. “Um … whatever you want.” Dan looked at the floor, not able to bear that expression on Phil’s face anymore.

But Phil had not released his hand, and now he gave it a squeeze. “You’re the one who’s been starving for two days. You definitely get to choose!” There was a bit of laughter in his voice, but not laughter at Dan. It sounded like the best sound Dan had ever heard.

And then Dan realized, and his heart sank like a stone within his suddenly ice cold body.

This must be what it felt like to love someone.

He’d understood the concept of love, of course, but he’d never thought he might actually feel it himself. And now he did feel it, but for someone who abhorred him, someone who only tolerated his presence out of some unwilling sense of obligation. Someone who considered him less than human.

Yes, he’d understood the concept of love, of course—all those couples he’d seen kissing in the streets—but he’d also understood that no one would ever feel it for him. Least of all someone like Phil.

He felt his lip begin to tremble, and then his whole chin. He jerked his hand out of Phil’s and raised his hands to cover his face, afraid of what might show there. He couldn’t bear the humiliation.

“Okay, okay,” Phil said gently. “I’ll choose. You like pizza, right? Pepperoni? Would that be okay?”

He was obviously waiting for a response, so Dan just nodded from behind his hands, then heard Phil make a phone call to order the food.

***

Dan was desperately grateful that Phil had ordered more than one pizza, because Dan himself ate one in its entirety before he even began to slow down enough to taste it.

“I’m sorry,” Phil told him earnestly when Dan had begun to take the time to actually chew his bites of food and was no longer simply bolting down slices of pizza as quickly as his body could manage.

Dan glanced nervously at Phil’s face, and Phil really did look regretful. Maybe even guilty. That didn’t seem right. Phil was always happy, wasn’t he?

“Please don’t feel bad,” Dan urged after swallowing the mouthful he had been chewing. He wiped his mouth with the paper towel Phil had given him. “It’s just me.” And he shrugged again, dismissively. He knew he didn’t matter.

But Phil shook his head. “It isn’t just you,” he mused, looking vaguely away from Dan as if deep in thought. “It’s also … my brother is upset with me, too.”

Dan managed to contain his shock that Phil actually wanted to engage him in conversation, then realized that Phil was actually probably talking to himself more than to Dan. He was just thinking aloud.

But then Phil looked directly at Dan and said, “My brother asked me to come home because he’d been fighting with our parents. They’d found out he was practicing piano at a friend’s house when he told them he was studying.”

Dan looked confused, then dared to ask hesitantly, “What’s wrong with practicing the piano?”

Phil sighed. “I wish my parents could understand, but Martyn isn’t interested in academics. He’s been dreaming about applying to the RNCM since he was 13.” Phil took a bite of pizza and chewed.

Dan took a bit of pizza and chewed as well. His stomach no longer felt like it had been turned inside out, but he still felt a little hungry. After a while, he noticed that Phil hadn’t said anything more. Gathering up his courage, Dan asked tentatively, “You said your brother is upset with you, though.”

Phil swallowed his pizza, wiped his hands, and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He typed for a minute then handed the phone over to Dan, who quickly wiped his own hands before taking it. He read the text conversation between Phil and Martyn.

“What does he mean when he says he wanted you to stand up for him?” Dan asked, feeling a little braver now, like they were having an actual conversation. Like Phil wasn’t going to kick him out of the flat for asking a simple question. Like Dan was an actual person Phil might have an actual conversation with.

Phil shook his head and said, “I don’t know. I mean, I got there, and everybody was yelling, and I tried to get it all calmed down, you know? I just wanted everybody to be happy.”

“But it sounds like Martyn isn’t happy,” Dan objected, then almost bit his tongue. It was one thing for Phil to talk to him, quite another for Dan to actual challenge him about something.

But Phil just nodded, looking a little perplexed. “He isn’t. I don’t know what he expected from me.”

Dan watched Phil’s face. He honestly didn’t seem to understand what was going on, but Dan was starting to get an inkling. “So your parents found out that your brother was playing piano instead of studying, and they got mad at him?” Phil nodded. “And he texted you to come help him out?” Phil nodded again.

Could Phil really be this dim? Dan could imagine himself in Phil’s brother’s position so easily.

“So Martyn’s a kid, and his parents are yelling at him for doing the thing he loves, and he calls his older brother in for back-up. But you didn’t stand up for him? You didn’t explain to your parents that he should be allowed to do what he loves and do the piano instead of academics? You just … what did you do?”

Phil looked abashed now, and more than a little confused. “I told everybody to calm down. I spent time with Martyn and listened to him talk, and I told him I support him. And I listened to my parents and told them I understand why they’re frustrated.” He frowned. “I just tried to understand everyone’s perspective. I just wanted peace, you know?”

Dan scowled, starting to get a little angry at Phil now. He was seeing this all from Martyn’s perspective, and he was feeling like Phil had really let him down. Didn’t he even see it? What kind of moron was he? Poor Martyn, having to fight his parents alone!

Dan slapped a hand down on his knee and growled, “It didn’t occur to you to defend your little brother? To stand up for his right to do what he wants? You didn’t explain it to your parents and defend him?” Dan was feeling really angry now.

“Fighting wouldn’t help anybody,” Phil insisted. “It never does. It’s better to just calm everybody down and keep the peace.” He wiped his mouth and hands and stood up. “I’m not hungry anymore, so I’m going to get some work done. Eat as much as you want.” And he just walked away to sit on the stool at his lab counter, where he started writing in the notebook he always seemed to be scribbling in.

Dan was fuming. He wanted to go punch Phil’s parents in their smug faces. He maybe even wanted to punch Phil in his uncomprehending face, because he should have stood up for his little brother! Instead, he’d left him defenseless against parents who didn’t respect or understand him. Okay, maybe Dan was taking this a little too personally, but he actually hurt! He hurt for poor Martyn left alone in that house while Phil just blithely took the train back to York.

Now seemed like an excellent time for a game of Fortnite, even though Phil was there and so Dan usually would go hide in the bedroom corner. Right now he needed to vent, and yelling at Phil seemed like a terrible possibility, so he chose ranting at video game characters instead.

He hadn’t been playing long when he encountered his first real battle, but it didn’t take him as long to get angry as usual, since he’d started the game already riled up. When he found himself surrounded, almost out of ammunition, he knew it wasn’t entirely the video game characters he hated when he screamed at the screen, “You rotten fucking cock badgers!”

Dan heard a gasp from the kitchen and looked to where Phil stood holding his notebook, his eyes wide, staring at Dan. “But that’s … what I said…” Phil mumbled, frowning, then glanced down at his notebook, flipped back through the pages to some earlier entry and seemed to be rereading. He looked back up at Dan, then back down again at the notebook.

And then Phil said quietly, face slack with disbelief, “This can’t … this can’t be … oh my god!”

***

Author’s Note: I’m due to post the first chapter of my other prb fic, “The Body Electric,” on Saturday (the 19th, which is only a few days from now), so after that I’ll be working on both fics simultaneously, which will complicate things, of course. This fic has 4 more chapters.

***

[ Continue to Chapter 5 ]

#phanfic #phanfiction #phan #au phanfic #au phanfiction #phanfic au #phanfiction au #hide not your face #myphanfic

[valisi-clark]

@hedera-helixwriteseruri Commissioned me for long-distance Erwin and Levi. I really love working in this type of setting because there are natural obstacles. I tried to set some of those up, and I've explored these elements in other works as well. It was an honor to write this for her, and I'm so grateful for her support.

Read it here or on AO3. 

Stay

When Levi opened the door to his apartment, he turned on the light in the entry way and stepped inside. He closed the door behind himself and kicked off his shoes. Again, he checked the watch that Erwin had given him, the one with two faces, tracking two time zones. He wasn't running late, and he wanted to shower first.

Levi started pulling his clothes off while he walked through the small apartment. He glanced at his laptop, which was asleep. It was a habit to look at it now. Because that's where Erwin was. Levi undressed, setting his watch on the counter of the bathroom. He showered, savoring the hot water, thinking of Erwin.

Of course, he always wanted to talk to Erwin. He always wanted to see him. The few pictures that Erwin sent every day helped, but Levi always wanted more.

In the morning, Erwin would send him a shower picture. Sometimes it was purposely provacative. Most of the time, Erwin was wearing a towel with his hair still wet. Those were Levi's favorites. And Levi would send Erwin a picture of his bed head every morning. Later, they swapped lunch pictures. After work, Erwin would send Levi a gym picture. Levi would send Erwin gym pictures while he was on the rig. But when he was at home, he didn't go to a gym. He worked out at home.

Once he was finished bathing, Levi stepped out of the shower and toweled off. He dressed in sleeping pants, neglecting underwear. Then, he put his watch back on. He always wore it. Even when he slept. And he went directly to his laptop.

Levi turned on the screen and changed his Discord status from invisible to online. Erwin wasn't online yet. Isabel and Farlan were though.

Isabel messaged him in the group chat that they had with Farlan.

Isabel: Really, what are you going to tell him?

Isabel: You didn't actually tell us what you were going to tell him before you left.

Levi rolled his eyes, and he wanted to ignore the message.

Farlan: If you break up with him, come stay with us for the night.

Isabel: Farlan! He's not breaking up with him.

Farlan: But if he does...

Levi: Don't worry about it.

Erwin came online, and Levi felt his heart pump harder in his chest.

Levi: gtg

Isabel: Message us no matter what!

Erwin's name and a request for video chat showed up on the screen, and Levi turned on his desk lamp. He ran his fingers through his hair before he messed it up again. Then, he answered the call.

After a few moments of a dark screen, Erwin appeared, and Levi felt his insides turn warm, feel a bit melty. He wanted to sigh, but he carefully exhaled instead. Erwin smiled at him. Erwin was still wearing his school clothes.

"Hello, darling," Erwin said.

"Hey."

"Did you just shower?"

"Yeah," Levi said, grinning. Erwin's eyes were all over him.

"I haven't gotten that far yet," Erwin said.

"I noticed," Levi said. "You're still in your school clothes." Erwin smiled, and Levi thought he saw a hint of blush.

"I'm not as organized when you're away," Erwin said. Levi nodded.

"Well," he said, shrugging. "I'll come back up and clean for you in a couple of months, maybe." Erwin smiled again, and Levi felt the back of his neck warm up.

"How was the movie?" Erwin asked.

"It was alright," Levi said. "Oluo and Gunter were really excited about the action scenes. Petra and Isabel squealed a lot. Farlan kept asking when Thor was going to take off his shirt."

"So you sat next to Eld?" Erwin asked with a grin. Levi swallowed, and he saw Erwin's face change to concern.

"I sat between Isabel and Farlan," Levi said.

"Oh," Erwin said, smiling again.

"Tonight, Eld told us that he's going to ask Chloe to marry him, so Petra and Oluo were making wedding plans for him after that. Even during the movie," Levi said. Erwin raised his eyebrows. "Next weekend is their two year anniversary. He's going to ask her then."

"Two years," Erwin said. Levi nodded, his eyes dropping from the screen. "That's really fast." Levi continued to nod. He wanted to drink some water. His throat felt dry.

"It's different for everyone," Levi said. He looked at Erwin again. Erwin ran his hand through his hair. Levi watched the way that Erwin's hair fell back into place after his hand passed through it. When he looked at Erwin's eyes again, he saw the same discomfort he felt.

"I've been meaning to talk to you," Erwin said. Levi sat up straigher in his computer chair, and he saw Erwin do the same thing. "And I guess this is the-" Erwin looked away for a moment before he looked back at Levi. "I just needed a reminder. It's so easy to get caught up in the every day things, Levi." Levi nodded. "I get distracted when I finally have time to spend with you."

"I get distracted too," Levi said. "While I'm home, I just think about all the things that I need to do until I go offshore again." Erwin nodded.

"I've been looking at Universities in the south," Erwin said. Levi's eyes widened. "There are a few positions that I might be interested in. They won't be in your local area. I'll still be an hour or so away." Levi nodded, shocked. "But I won't be in a different time zone anymore." Levi opened his mouth, lost the words, and closed his mouth again. "I've been doing this for a while, but I wasn't sure how you would feel about it."

Levi remembered his talk with Isabel and Farlan. He believed what he told them, and knew that he had to do the right thing for both of them.

"I know that you like it up there," Levi said. "And I've thought about moving up there before. But I don't want to stop welding." Erwin nodded.

"I wouldn't ask you to," Erwin said. "And obviously, Indiana doesn't have a need for underwater welders."

"I'm not going to ask you to move down here," Levi said. "You've been working in the same University for four years, and if you stay there, you'll get tenure a lot faster than if you move." Erwin nodded, and nodded faster as Levi continued to talk. "It's better for you to stay there."

"I know," Erwin said. "I know that. And I do like it here." Levi almost rolled his eyes, but caught himself. He looked away instead.

"I don't want to move, and I know that you don't want to move," Levi said. "It's stupid to keep trying to make this work when we're not going anywhere." Levi winced. Saying it out loud, to Erwin, was more painful than he expected. But he had been thinking about it for a while. And heairng that Eld was getting married made it more real.

"Levi." Levi looked back at Erwin. "I know this is childish." One side of Erwin's mouth tilted up. Levi's eyebrows pulled together. "Most of the time, I tell people that we met on a dating website. Because it's too complicated to explain any other way." Levi nodded. He became frustrated very easily any time he tried to explain how he and Erwin found each other. Neither of them played World of Warcraft very often anymore, and that made the explanation even more complicated somehow. "And I know that we're both stable which makes this even wilder." Levi's eyes wandered to the buttons on Erwin's shirt. "But I want to be near you."

Levi lost focus, thinking about what Erwin was saying. They had been in an exlcusive relationship for a little over a year, and Levi had done the majority of the traveling. Erwin helped him with the expense, even if it wasn't necessary. Levi made excellent money, especially for a bachelor. And he lived like he was poor. There weren't many things that he wanted to buy. He bought things for Erwin often. And Erwin returned the favor regularly. Whenever Levi came home from being offshore, he always returned to several packages waiting for him in the mailbox. Soap, cleaning products, his favorite snacks. When Erwin missed him more than usual, Levi would come home to a package with a porn DVD inside of it.

"Levi."

Levi looked back at the screen. Erwin's face had changed. He looked stoic, firm.

"If this isn't what you want," Erwin said. "If you don't want me to move down there-" Levi opened his mouth to say something, but he leaned back farther in his chair and rubbed his eyes instead. "Just say so, and we can move on or... discuss other options."

"I want it," Levi blurted. He took his hands away from his eyes, let them drop to his thighs. "I want you to move down here, but I don't want to be the reason that you don't get tenured. And-" He shrugged and shook his head, still not able to look at Erwin. "You might move down here, and we might not work so well."

"Well, we'll still be separated for a while," Erwin said. Levi looked at him finally. Erwin's eyes gazed every part of Levi that he could see. "I won't be living with you. And you'll be going offshore regularly."

"Yeah."

"I think it would be a good transition," Erwin said. Levi nodded. The question that had been burning in the back of his mind finally forced itself out of his mouth.

"Yeah, but would you consider moving in together?" Levi asked. He watched Erwin's face, and he saw that he caught Erwin off-guard. "It makes more sense." Levi's mouth dried out. He had already made the decision, and he had promised himself he wouldn't regret it. Erwin had helped him learn that lesson. "It makes more sense for us to combine our incomes. Even if we got an apartment with two bedrooms and we-" Levi licked his lips, still wishing that he had gotten some water for himself. "Would eventually sleep in one together probably."

Erwin didn't look confused. Or even shocked. Levi couldn't read him. As long as he had spent looking at Erwin, learning every part of Erwin's body, he still couldn't read some of Erwin's expressions.

"I want that," Erwin said. Levi felt his heart thump in his chest, harder than he expected. When he exhaled, he had to control his breathing. All of the air in his lungs felt hot. "How long have you been trying to find a way to ask me that?"

"Eight months," Levi said, almost gasping. Erwin smiled at him.

"So, not a year and three months?" Erwin said.

"No, not until I saw your dick in real life for the first time," Levi said. Erwin laughed, and Levi felt his breathing even out, becoming easier. He smiled at Erwin. He loved seeing Erwin laugh. Finally, his mouth didn't feel so dry anymore, and he swallowed.

"I'm glad you're realisitic," Erwin said, still smiling. Levi nodded. "I've been thinking about this for a long time too, but it's... difficult, trying to find the right moment. And now that we know that we both want the same thing, I'll double my efforts to try and find work down there."

"You could move down any time you want, really," Levi said. "I make enough to support us both while you're looking."

"I know," Erwin said. "But it will help me adjust easier if I already have a job lined up when I move down there. Especially considering your schedule."

"What do you mean?" Levi asked.

"If I move down there without a job, and without friends in the area, I'll be rather bored while you're gone," Erwin said. "And boredom can make stress worse." Levi nodded. "But once we know when Eld is getting married, I could make it a goal to move down before the wedding."

"That would be good," Levi said. "What do you think everyone will say when you tell them?" Erwin cringed.

"I think I'll move down there and call them after I'm settled in," Erwin said. Levi laughed.

"So move down here and then call to tell them goodbye?" Levi asked, still chuckling.

"That's probably the best option for everyone," Erwin said.

"Mike and Hange would probably come down here to drag you back," Levi said.

"Probably," Erwin said. Levi's eyes roamed over Erwin's face, the buttons of his shirt again, Erwin's forearms.

"And when I'm too old to weld anymore," Levi said. "Maybe we'll move back."

"Maybe," Erwin said, shrugging. Then, Erwin yawned. Levi stood from the computer chair, and picked up his laptop. "Where are we going?"

"I need water, and then I'm going to lay down. It's your bedtime," Levi said. He took the computer to the kitchen with him, and he set it on the counter while he poured himself a glass of water. When he looked at the screen, he saw that Erwin was headed to his own bedroom. Levi quickly finished his water, picked up the computer again, and he headed to bed, turning out lights as he went.

Levi pulled the sheets down on his bed. When he laid down under the covers, he positioned the laptop in its usual place and fluffed his pillow. Erwin had put his laptop on the bed and was undressing. There was only one lamp in the room, and Levi watched all of the familiar shadows move over Erwin's skin. After Erwin removed his underwear, Levi had to take a breath and adjust in the bed.  

Erwin crawled under his bedsheets and relaxed against his pillow. He rolled over on his side and looked at Levi.

"Talking about that was easier than I thought it would be," Erwin said. "I expected that I would be more nervous." Levi scoffed. "Were you nervous?"

"I thought I would die from dehydration, my mouth was so dry," Levi said. Erwin chuckled at him, and Levi smiled.

"I wouldn't let that happen," Erwin said. Levi ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his face. "And I'm so ready for the day when I'm laying next to you in bed, rather than a computer." Levi relaxed farther into the bed.

"Me too," Levi said. He reached down and pulled off his sleeping pants, tossing them out of bed and adjusting the blankets again. He turned to look at Erwin again, who looked very tired. Levi stared at Erwin's hair, the way that it rested against his pillow. Erwin's smell came to him, and he wished that he could touch him. Kiss him goodnight. Erwin's eyes slowly closed, and Levi watched his chest rise and fall.

"You didn't turn off the light," Levi said. Erwin jolted in bed a bit, opened his eyes and looked around. He sat up in bed and turned off the lamp. Then he laid back down. Rather than closing his eyes, Erwin stared at the screen for a while. Levi adjusted the pillow under his head and looked at Erwin's chest. He knew what it was like to rest his head there. He knew how Erwin felt under him. Levi's eyes went to Erwin's face, and he saw that Erwin eyes were all over him again.

Erwin adjusted in bed, and Levi's eyes darted down automatically, to where Erwin's lap would be. But he couldn't see that far on the screen. He just knew, from the way Erwin moved, when Erwin was thinking about sex. And Levi was thinking about it too.

"Are we going to celebrate our decision to move in together?" Erwin asked, and Levi smiled at him.

Levi pushed the sheets off of himself, turned on his lamp, and adjusted the laptop so Erwin would have a wider angle.

#hedera-helixwriteseruri #commissions #eruri #drooling over those long-distance dirty talks

[rainsonata]

Beyond the Fog

Fandom/Pairing: Elsword; hints of DBrMM (Doom Bringer x Mastermind) Rating: T Word Count: 4,444

Summary: With minimal magic and an arsenal of spell cards and potions, being an alchemist in a world where demons and monsters run amok is less than ideal. Mastermind learns that going on adventure sometimes means kicking and screaming because growing scales on your face and looking like an overgrown lizard is an anomaly. Dragon AU where MM and DBr are dragon human hybrids.

Christmas fic for  @un-amused-forever   

Being an alchemist in Feita was different than being in Velder. There were no narrow stalls with fresh paint on the signs and hundreds of potential customers passing by. Feita had flimsy tents they set up on business days if one hoped make money and prayed for a busy day. In a place where it had only recently become known for its tall tales of demons and angered spirits, many of Add’s customers came in two flavors: the curious archeologists and the stupid adventurers.

Archeologists dropped by to restock potions and were good customers because they listened to his advice on where to go to find the best stall for equipment and where to avoid demons. They were a chatty bunch, but they shared their findings to him and kept him awake with their outlandish stories that were likely exaggerated for entertainment purposes. Adventurers made up a bigger bulk of his income, but that was because they kept ignoring his warnings and getting into trouble by getting injured on repeats. Soldiers from Velder, nobodies from faraway places, they all had something stuck between their thick skulls.

A tall man dressed in dark colors approached his tent. The clothes he wore looked out of place in the mass of earthly toned fabrics settlers and soldiers wore when he had a coat that hung over his shoulders like a cape. He had two belts where a ring of keys hung from there and tight pants that couldn’t be comfortable. What was he doing here?

“Hello,” Add masked his curiosity with a professional tone. “What can I do for you?”

He rubbed his chin. “You’re the local alchemist, right?”

The ponytailed man sighed and pointed at the sign on his tent with the word ‘Alchemy’ in block letters. “Yeah, I live nearby,” Add said with a tight smile. He could handle this oaf’s innocent questions.   

The stranger must have some confidence to wear such a form fitting shirt in a chilly region. Must be from the capital city, he mused. Add stopped himself from gasping when the man extended his arm to reveal black bars wrapped around his wrist. Up close, he could see that the bars were made of smaller markings lined together, shiny like black scales.   

“I want something that makes me stronger,” the man said. “You have any of that?”   

From the way he dressed and held himself, this man was another adventurer wanting to test his strength. Potions related to strength were one of the most common type requested. Add signaled the man to wait and checked under the table to grab a stamina potion to hand to the other.

“I’m afraid I’m out of them,” Add said. “They’re the first to go and they won’t be in stock for a few days.” Not until he went to restock alchemy ingredients and brew a new batch. It could take longer if he failed to mix it properly.

“What about this?” He held up the stamina potion.

“They’re good substitutes to increase your defense,” Add explained. “They can’t replace strength, but they good for strenuous work and battles.”

They were popular with workers who did demanding jobs like the archeologists or the merchants who transported goods back and forth between Feita and the major cities nearby. Not many adventurers have shown interest in that, so Add was surprised when the man accepted it with a smile.

“That will do,” he nodded in deep thought. “Will the strength potion be here if I come back later?”

The air the man gave reminded Add of the cocky Velder knights, the ones who trained all day but probably never stepped into a battlefield. In all this dreary weather, what was he happy for? He walked with no fear and showed no remorse at the stares he earned for his unusual white hair. The man was comfortable in his own skin and it made Add envious.   

Add shrugged, “Give or take. It’s your decision if you want to wait for it. I’m sure there are other places that offer the same thing as I do.”

The man grinned, “Thanks for the potion!” He handed the change to Add and waited for him to count them out before accepting them.

“What are you here for?” Add asked, “Did the ghost stories interest you?”

The man turned pale at the mention of ghosts and gulped, “No. There have been rumors about a white-tailed demon giving people problems.”

Add frowned. That one? It had come up many times since he first moved to Feita, but now that the man mentioned it, the stories have become more frequent over time. It was hard to tell the facts from the exaggeration, or if such a demon existed at all, but all the rumors held one consistency. The beast was white and it appeared close to the mountains on foggy mornings.

“Chasing a rumor isn’t a good idea,” Add said.

“I want to catch a glimpse of it,” the man disagreed. “Well, I better get going on. I wouldn’t want to take up your time when you have other customers to think about!”

“Hey!” Add groaned when the man left the tent to disappear outside.

He covered his face in frustration. It wasn’t his responsibility if his customers did stupid stuff with his products, but that didn’t mean he could stop worrying about it sometimes. The alchemist leaned his head against his chair.  He wondered how long would it take before that fool came back bandaged limbs and in need for elixirs to heal whatever damage was inflicted onto him, rumored demon or not.

His favorite thing about going through his day were the morning strolls. The woods surrounding the cottage he lived in smelled of wild flowers and plants, some of them requiring magic to flourish properly. Many of them were exclusive to the region. With enough knowledge and experience, a skilled alchemist could brew potions and elixirs worth a fortune. Add wasn’t there yet, but what he knew was enough to make money to be comfortable. Besides, it wasn’t expensive to live where most people wouldn’t choose to venture in.  

Where the red rocks and dry breeze of the desert ended become a maze of thick trees and fog where Feita sat. Days away from the capital city, the small settlement was abundant in old temples and the weeds grew over the cracks of the abandoned places of worship. It was popular for archaeologists to stop by to investigate the many ruins and for merchants to take advantage of that by pricing their products at higher prices for profit. Add was one of them.  

Brushing his feet past the dewy grass the next morning, Add was bundled in layers of clothes. From the bottom of the stems, he picked up a bundle of tiny purple flowers he found in the ground with white gloves. The wild apples he spotted from the trees overhead could be used for soups and jams. If he had any left over, he could sell them to merchants in exchange for alchemy material to make new batches of potions.   

Placing the flowers into a woven basket, Add left it sitting on the ground to reach for the apples on his tiptoes. His long white jacket sleeves slide down to expose lilac colored markings decorating his arms. They glimmered like gemstones scattered on his pale skin when Add smoothed them over with one hand after dropping the apples into the basket. They were on his hands and the rest of his body, but he made sure to keep them out of view with layers of clothes.

Add dropped his arms to grab the basket, turning around to check for anyone. There was no one around, but that didn’t stop the alchemist from being cautious. It was already bad enough getting stares from people because of the unusual color of his hair. White wasn’t unnatural, but it wasn’t common either. He scratched the markings around his neck and grimaced when he felt the small bumps, like flat pebbles.    

The trek back to his cottage wasn’t a long one, a brisk walk with only the occasional songbirds flying south for the upcoming winter. Not many people wanted to live where he was because of the uneven roads and the frequent erosions caused by demons. He picked up an additional bundle of weed and wild plants he found from the bushes and tucked them into his basket. Today was his day off, so he was in no rush on heading back. There was still time to make breakfast if he returned before noon before setting up the equipment to begin making potions to sell the next day.        

There was a low hiss when he heard something rustling in the bushes from behind. He narrowed his eyes and slid his body down to the floor, hugging his basket when dark shadows emerged from the woods. Glitter monsters covered in blood red armor and wielding primitive looking weapons appeared.

They groaned when Add summoned icicles forming from water droplets on the trees to rain down on them, pinning them to the sides. He took his chance and ran the opposite to where he saw them, not wanting to be followed back to the cottage. The nearest settlement was miles away from where he lived.

More demons appeared when he ran. They were just as weak as the wave from before, but there were too many for him to take them down all at once. His vision blurred when he tried keeping up with them and using the spell cards from his inventory to keep them at bay. Explosions erupted from the palm of his hands as the cards summoned a monster to fight beside him. He was going to run out of magic if he wasn’t careful.

Even with the spell cards and spare potions in hand, it wasn’t enough to clear a path for him to sprint away to the nearest human settlement. There wasn’t time for his mind to process when one of the demons charged at him with a dagger to slash across his stomach. Add cried and fell over, losing his breath as blood seeped through his pristine jacket.

A black cloud of smoke poofed beside Add, he turned to see that his summon was destroyed by the hoard of demons. He pulled out more spell cards from his back pocket to summon allies to fend them off, all of them weak monsters that barely held themselves against the enemies. The alchemist grabbed the apples from his basket and tossed them at the demons too, covering them in thin layers of ice to add a tough texture.  

Pinching where it bled, he clenched his teeth as he drew out a small dagger from his belt and held it up against the mob drawing in closer at the scent of blood. His hand shook and almost dropped his weapon when he closed his eyes in pain. His blood felt hot, but his skin was icy cold. Add ripped his soiled jacket off, scratch marks and markings covering his arms glowed when he let out an inhuman scream.

A man named Lusa was dressed in a fluffy black coat looked up when he heard a deafening roar pierce through the woods. The trees picked up a strong gust of wind coming from the area towards the mountains, the furthest away from town. It couldn’t be an upcoming thunderstorm if the wind flew the opposite direction to the rest of the wind.

Demons with fractured bones had their limbs sprawled into awkward angles, hanging over trees and littering the floor with their mouths wide opened. They were freshly killed if their black blood hasn’t dried for their bodies to crumble into dust. A few demons were still breathing when the man went to investigate. The sloppy cuts that killed them was done by an inexperienced fighter. Lusa looked up when he heard the roar again.       

Ice shot from the ground, consuming the loose dirt and snapping tree trunks. Demons scurried out from beneath the cracks before getting splintered fallen trees and debris. The man ducked when the sky sprinkled with hail and hid himself under a demon corpse to avoid getting hit.

On a block of ice was a white dragon lying down with its head resting in between its arms, snarling at him when the man approached it. It had thin leathery wings stretched across with a lilac colored membrane and a long white mane running down its slender neck. A demon squeaked when it failed to escape its eyes when the dragon grabbed it and crushed it with its claws.

“Hey, what are you doing here making a mess?” Lusa shouted at the overgrown lizard and pointed at the corpses on the floor. “You see that? That’s all you.”

If he didn’t stop this thing, it was going to ruin the forest and everyone living here. Didn’t the alchemist say he lived nearby?  

The dragon looked at him unimpressed and growled at him, moving its tail impatiently. It was taller than a house and could crush trees when it crawled on its fours, flapping its wings to pick up wind when Lusa proved himself to be too fast for it. He threw himself onto the dragon and pointed at its neck with a dagger.

It hissed when he stabbed it, turning its head around and slammed him against the floor. Lusa hugged his head and lowered his head, wrestling to keep the damn lizard down with the strength he had. The dragon snorted at his feeble efforts and breathed into him, ice forming around his coat and solidifying the collar.

Lusa withdrawn his hand and slugged the dragon in the face, “That’s my coat, asshole!”

The dragon pulled its head back from getting punched in the face, shaking its head and glaring at him. There was something familiar about the way it looked at him judgmentally, like it was better than him. First it was trying to wreck people’s homes and now it destroyed his jacket? Well, he wasn’t going to have any of that!    

Lusa pulled out his arms to show off the markings on his wrists glowing as everything around him grew smaller. His clothes melted away as wings sprouted out from his spine with the rest of his body growing to become a black dragon with purple outlines covered in jagged scales. As he transformed, his weight became overbearing on the smaller white dragon, slithering away when Lusa tried to pin it down.

He spread his wings to launch himself into the air when the dragon breathed ice again, diving back down to attack. The other flicked its tail at him, pulling him down and crashing to shove a bunch of trees down. Lusa wrestled for control when he noticed the bloodied wound across the dragon’s stomach. He coated his body with electricity to form an armor and pinned down the dragon to send shocks to paralyze it from movement.

It choked the dragon from opening its mouth and gagged, coughing out nothing before it passed out with Lusa standing over it. Light blinded him as the dragon glowed before fading away to uncover a man lying on the ground with his white hair tangled in the grass. His chest was still rising with each breath when Lusa checked the unconscious man and recognized him.   

Fuck. He almost killed the local alchemist.

In a flash of light, Lusa transformed back into his human form and ran over to check on the bleeding alchemist. The wounds weren’t too deep, but how long had he been fighting with those injuries? It was unsafe to leave him like this, so Lusa did what he could and used the last bit of water he had in his water canteen to clean the man’s injuries and tore off a bit of his jacket to bandage the wounds he could find. It wasn’t professionally done, but it should hold until he could bring him to town to the nearest healer.         

Lusa was careful in moving the injured man, bending his legs and putting him into a sitting potion. The alchemist’s position was adjusted so his chest was against his back and pulled the arms over his shoulder so he could piggyback ride him.  

Local alchemist revealed with draconic origins, Lusa gave an empty laugh at the imagined headline.

So there wasn’t a white tailed demon. No wonder the alchemist chose to live in such a desolated area with minimal human contact. With that condition, he was an oddity at best and an exotic animal biding its time for slavery at worse. Dragon human hybrids were a rarity after all.     

It was not the first time Add woke up after what felt like a long nap. He didn’t wake up immediately. His mind surfaced and drifted away again in what felt like every few minutes. He barely registered the pain straining from his muscles when he stretched in a restless sleep. It didn’t feel like he rested at all when he opened his eyes to an unfamiliar room.

His mind was foggy. It was that uneasy feeling of Deja vu he experienced when he realized he couldn’t remember what was the last thing he did before passing out. Was it still morning? It was dark out with the sun dipping under the horizon when he peeked out through the window at his bedside. The only reason why he knew it was going to be night time was because he smelled dinner coming from outside his room.

Pain shot through his body when he twisted his body to look for a clock for the time, 5:17. The clothes he wore didn’t belong to him either, a size too large where he could see the bandages peeking out through the short sleeves on his arms. Most of them were minor injuries, but most of the pain was at his stomach. The bandage wrap in that area looked like it needed to be replaced with a big blot of blood starting to seep through.

His clothes were dried and folded on an empty chair placed beside his bed, cleaned by magic if there were any indications by the lack of blood stains. There was also a black coat and a purple shirt that didn’t belong to him. Add looked up to find their owner sleeping in a chair opposite to him.   

It was the customer from yesterday! He rested his head on the armrest, snoring when Add leaned over to see that he was injured through the dim room. The man had no shirt on with bandages wrapped around his arms and shoulder pads with one big one slapped on his forehead. His white hair swept over the right side of his face, his eyes fluttered open when turned on the lights at his nightstand.  

“Hey, you’re awake.” The man said with relief, “You were out like a light since noon.”  

“What happened to me?” Add searched for his memories.

His legs were numb when he pushed his legs to the side of the bed to touch the wood floor with his bare feet to face the man. It was hard not to forget this customer when he dressed like he was part of the mafia rather than visiting Feita’s ruins. What was he doing here in the same room as him? With all those bandages, the man looked like he was ambushed by a lizardman.    

Oh no… not again.

The man asked with a strange look in his eyes, “What are you doing making a ruckus in the mountains with powers you can’t control?”

Shit. How much did he see? Add panicked inside, searching for an escape route, or somewhere to run. Did the man find him injured like this or did he see more? The man was a dragon too if he had those same markings on his arms. Maybe he already figured out what Add was before he even transformed. He pondered for questions, unaware of the stares he was earning from the other.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” Add played dumb with a stiff smile, treating him as any other customers who ever tried to pry through his personal life whenever they became too curious. Something told him that the other was as stubborn as he looked if he was still in the area after a few days.   

He said. “How much control do you have over that form?”

It suddenly became too hot for Add and he wished someone would open the windows so he could breathe out the stuffiness the room was giving him. The alchemist gulped and gave the man a curt answer.

“I have no control over what happens after I close my eyes.” He narrowed his eyes, “What’s a dragon like you doing here? Still looking for that imaginary demon?”   

The man sighed, “That white-tailed demon was you. You’re no demon, you’re the same as me.”

He lived far away from most humans for this reason: to avoid these questions. With no humans nearby, the worse damage he could inflict were on demons around the mountains and maybe wandering cattle if they was stupid enough to get lost. Is that why this man was here? To check out this so-called rumor and see him make a fool of himself?      

“What do you want from me?” Add bit his lips, “As you said, I have no control. I’m no use to you.”

The man scratched the back of his head, “You don’t remember what happened to you?”

“No,” Add was getting tired of this conversation already.   

“Well, I found you bleeding,” he said. “I stepped in to stop you from hurting yourself more so I could bring you to a healer.”

So that’s where they were, Add understood. That made sense. He didn’t appreciate visiting healers after he acquired this...curse and instead relied on his own medicine and remedies to take care of himself. He covered the markings on his arms with sudden self-consciousness and gritted his teeth.

As if he read his mind, he said, “I told the healer those were tattoos if you were wondering. Am I scaring you?” The man dropped the stern look to replace it with a gentler expression, “I promise I’m not here to hurt you. I just want to know why you’re like this.”

Add gulped, “Not that it matters since there’s no way to lift the curse.”

“Curse?” The man was confused.

He laughed with no humor, “I was a fool and tried returning a baby dragon back to its mother when it cursed me. I guess the feelings weren’t mutual.”

The dragon was the size of a house cat, a little one that mewled when he picked it up to bring it inside when he found it alone. What was he thinking trying to play dragon tamer and taking care of it like a household pet? He wasn’t even aware of being cursed until it was too late when he one day woke up to a forest fire. He moved away to avoid everyone when he was still an alchemist in training.   

“I can’t say I know anything about curses, but I can help you learn to control that form if you want.” The man introduced himself with an extended hand, “You can call me Lusa.”

Controlling his form did sound appealing, but how was he supposed to do that if he wasn’t even conscious during those moments? It was beyond his imagination to wonder how anyone could be trained to control another side of themselves like that.

Add stared at the man, but accepted the offer and shook. It was a tight handshake, he could trace the calluses on the other’s hand. He mumbled, “I’m Add.”

“Add,” he repeated his name and grinned. “This is going to be some adventure.”

“I’m not leaving Feita,” Add said.

“I’m not asking you to,” he shook his head. “This is actually a good place to start since almost no one lives here. Didn’t you know that the best adventures can be at home? I can’t promise you instant results, but we can try for a few weeks and see if it works.”

“Are you doing all this for the potions?” Add couldn’t stop himself from sneering, his mindset still one of a merchant. Old habits die hard. He didn’t have a lot of friends here, so socializing outside of work was an oddity for him.   

Lusa rolled his eyes, “You have some ego to think your potions are worth that much.”

Add glared, “What happened to ‘I’ll come back in a few days to check’?”

“All right, I want to help because I don’t see a lot of people like me.” He admitted, “It makes me happy to meet someone like you, even if you’re cursed.”

Add didn’t respond. It sounded too good to be true. What kind of person bothered to make the effort to pin him down to snap him out of that state, take him to a healer, and then claim he was going to help him? He thought it was logical to be wary when weighing his options. However, with the destruction he caused when transformed, it was worrying on how long he could live like this until authorities or other adventurers would start tracking him for causing too much damage. Living in a cage or becoming the Velder army’s training dummy wasn’t something he wanted to deal with either.  

He drew out a breath, “If you try anything funny, I want you to know that I have studied under a certified alchemist and know all the different things that could kill a dragon.”

Lusa snorted, “I’m glad you trust me so much. Just remember that the same stuff can kill you too if you eat or inhale it.”

“As I’m very aware of,” Add said with a serious expression.

Despite the threats, Lusa beamed and laughed when he gave him a questioning look. His cheeriness when the healer came by to give them dinner made it hard to stay wary when he kept asking Add questions about being an alchemist and living in Feita. The other was apparently from Velder and was excited to move to a place where there was more room for him to roam without an army chasing after him.

Talking to Lusa reminded him of life before he was cursed, when he had friends to talk to. Was this something he wanted? If learning to control himself meant talking to someone kind like Lusa, maybe it wasn’t a bad deal.   

#elsword #eltag #Add (Elsword) #DBrMM #MMLP #Mastermind #Lunatic Psyker #mywriting #my writing #Elsword fanfiction #you know what this was fun I should write aus more often #if we have dragon people like perkisas and denif #I wonder why we don't get more dragon characters or even one as a playable character #I always wanted to write about MM as an alchemist #LP would probably be a blacksmith and Esper would be the treasure hunter #but I can see MM as TH and Esper as alchemist too bc of the medicine he took as TTr #Addcest

[lightyears-domum-blog]

The beginning...1

Ugh, before i start, i just want to put it out there that my friends put me up to this… Normally this is the part of the story where the author says somthing along the lines of “there was a human, they thought they were normal… but they were about to find out the truth.” Typical story opener right? Well I am not an author, and to be honest, I kind of suck a writing. So instead I will just tell you like it is:

Hi, my name is Ash. Just ash. Nothing else. I am 36 years old, I am male, I am gay, I am transgender, I am an Aquarius. I like to draw, and go on adventures. I also love to star gaze and imagine what it would be like to travel to the stars and planets. Normal stuff, nothing special. I am an average guy, working and paying the bills. Trying to scrape out a living on this god forsak-

“Ash what are you doing?”

“Ummm, writing the story you all insist I write?”

“Let me see…” quickly skims over the paper. “What is this?!”

“What? I suck a writing! I told you this!”

Breathes in deeply and sighs. “Alright. Just, hold off until I get back from training the troops and I will help you write it…” I smiled really big when he said this.

“Sweet cookies! Thank you love!” He rolled his eyes at me and waved as he left out tent.

“You are hopeless sometimes leisthar.”

“But you still love me!” I stuck my tongue out at him and he left. well, I guess I have the afternoon off! And I don’t have to write this stupid thing! Hell yeah! Bye!

———

I had thought to start afresh and leave out what Ash had written, but in the end i decided to leave it. it gives you a glimpse into who he is, A quick peek into his personality, so to say. He has two major sides to him; a playful non-stop joking side you only see when he gets to know you well, the other is very reserved, very quiet, and very respectful. And seeing as how he is not taking this task seriously, I will be stepping in to write down the events that have led him, and myself, to this point.

Earth is a rather small planet filled with, according to the ministry, primitive lifeforms known as humans. Humans are considered lesser beings, and are seen as more of a working animal rather than an intelegent species. There is one thing about humans that make them the subject of many scientists studies; their DNA is easy to manipulate. Since it is simple and uncoplex compared to most other beings, they are prime targets for genetic manipulation of all kinds, from all different advanced races in the universe. This, as you may, or may not, have guessed by now, is where Ash’s story comes in.

Ash had been running errands all day, grabbing groceries, toiletries, paying bills. It was his only day off and he was making the most of it. He stopped in the local shoe store to purchase a new pair of sneakers, his old ones were fraying and had large holes. This would not have bothered him so much, were he still living in his old home town. There it was dry and hardly ever rained, so holes in your shoes were not such a big problem.

Here though, here it rained, A LOT. And not just a nice drizzle, no, the heavens seemed to open while the atmosphere collapsed, and the sky would fall to the earth. That kind of rain, huge unavoidable puddles; So new shoes were nessasary. He handed the clerk 45 dollars, took his change and went to his truck to try on his new black and red stripped sneakers.

“Ohhhh!” He said slipping them onto his feet, he threw the old worn pair into the back seat. “These are much nicer! Mmmhmmm! Comfy on my feet!” Wiggling his toes inside them he put the key into the ignition and started the old Chevy. It roared to life with a few protesting squeals from the engine. Ash looked left, then right, before pulling out of the parking spot.

“Drivin’ down the road! Gonna go home and eat some food!” He sang to himself as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the freeway heading back to his apartment. He checked the time, it was only 2:45 in the afternoon. Plenty of time to relax before his sister and her boyfriend came home from work. He had recently moved in with them when he was looking to get out of his old town. His sister had offered for him to move in with her. Not only was it convinent for him, it would help them out with bills and food.

So, Ash packed up his stuff and drove 15 hours to his sisters. It was an interesting change for him, he had lived in his home town his whole life. Sure he had traveled to different places, but never lived anywhere else. It took him quite a while to get used to the new humid climate, the different culture, the lack of his favorite foods. But there was work out here, he did not have to struggle to pay his bills . That, in and of itself, made the new place tolerable for the time being.

Ash drove down the road singing loudly to Steam Powered Girrafe’s newest song ‘I don’t think there’s a name for it.’ his latest song obsession. The cars around him were flying past him going well over the speed limit. He didn’t mind, he was in no hurry to be anywhere today. As he pulled off the freeway and onto the side street that lead to his apartment complex, Ash noticed someone sitting on the side of the road.

They were wrapped up in so many layers you could not even see their face. It looked as though they had 15 different hoodies on, each larger and larger to accomidate the layers underneath. The hoods of all were pulled up over the persons face, shrouding it in darkness. They were also wearing layers and layers of sweat pants, again each increasing in size, white dirty shoes, and thick mittens. They had a shopping cart overflowing with cans, paper, and other scraps of what seemed to be garbage.

The person didnt move a mucile as he drove past them. It was strange to see this in the middle of summer, but ash had seen stranger things in his lifetime, so he paid it no mind. He pulled into the parking lot and parked in his usual spot, four slots down from his door. He saved the front row parking for his sister and her boyfriend. Not because he had to though, he didn’t mind walking 10 extra feet to the front door.

Ash looped his arms through every grocery bag, making him look like a strange bird with heavy wings, and quickly hobbled to the front door before the weight of the food became to much for him. He fumbled with the key until it finally slid home, quickly unlocking the door, he let it hang open, while he rushed to the kitchen to gently drop everything in front of the fridge with a huge sigh.

“Jesus moses! Food is friken heavy sometimes!” He commented to himself as he went back to the door to shut it. Rounding the corner ash nearly jumped out of his skin, simotaniously letting out a shriek. The strange person covered head to toe in layers of clothing was standing in the doorway.

“Holy crap man! You scared the shit out of me!” Ash said laughing nervously, his heart was beating a thousand miles a minute. “Can I help you? Do you need food or water?” He asked, ready to give the person anything they may have needed. The stranger just stood there, not moveing, it didn’t even look like they were breathing.

“Hello?” Ash cautiously moved around to stand in front of the hooded person. “If you don’t need anything then you need to leave.” This caused the head of the person to lift suddenly, Ash flinched at the unexpected motion. He could not see the face under all those layers, but the feeling of the strangers eyes boreing into him was undeniable. Fear ran through ash like lightning, then was quickly followed by hot fury.

“I am dead serious, you need to get the fuck out of my house before I either escort your ass out, or call the cops! Your choice.” He was not quite yelling, but he was speaking loud enough that he was sure the neighbors could hear him if they were home. Still the stranger did not move, they just continued to stare at him from deep within the darkness of the many hoods they wore. Ash had had enough, keeping his eyes on the intruder he walked over to the knife block and grabbed the first thing he felt. It was a small serrated steak knife, good enough to scare anyone out of the house.

The stranger followed his movements, tuning their head slowly. When Ash grabbed the knife and pointed it at them the intruder advanced. They were fast, much faster than Ash had time to process or react to. he only had time to shout 'fuck!’ Before the intruder had the hand with the knife wrenched up behind his back, and the other hand squeezing Ash’s throat so hard tears began to form in his eyes. Dark blotches spread from the edges of his vision as he rapidly lost contiousness. The last thought he had before passing out was 'you have got to be fucking kidding me with this bull shit.’ Then the world went black.

#fanfic #fantasy #story #short story