#ok I just remembered I did draw him a few weeks ago but it was a joke and his face was covered it doesn’t count

[toxicxsugarxart]

Had this crisis, put it off for a month, then decided to tackle him today. I can draw one (1) man.

Commissions open!

#my art #disney #encanto #bruno madrigal #art #cartoon #character study #I feel like that term mostly applies to writing but like. he’s a character I’m studying his dumb face (affectionate) #art study #art practice #ok I just remembered I did draw him a few weeks ago but it was a joke and his face was covered it doesn’t count

[starry-bi-sky]

I saw a post a few months ago (and damn was it really months? In PLURAL?) that was a cracky dpxdc au where the LOS were making Damian clones but the clones kept getting snatched by ghost portals and dropped into Danny’s lap and Danny just goes “ok ig this is my life now” and takes care of each one until he has his own mini army of Damian Clones.

And I remembered it a few days ago, and now I've been thinking about it again. Because I love clone aus (see: clone danny au, the 'danny is thomas wayne' au) because it itches the part of my mind that loves exploring personhood and the exploration of identity and what it means to be clone.

(What do you do when nothing about you is unique? When your face, your eyes, your hands, your hair, your voice, all the way down to your heart, all belong to someone else?)

(When it comes to nature vs nurture what of you came from your environment and your experiences, and what of you was already programmed into you from the DNA that made you?)

(What do you do to make it unique? What do you do to make you unique?)

And if I could remember who made that post I'd @ them right now because it was their original post that inspired this, but I'm just thinking of if the au only had One Singular Damian clone that fell into Danny's life.

(a read more because im apparently incapable of making posts that are less than 1k words...)

One Damian who knew he was a clone and knew that he was to either bring the original back to base or kill him to take his place, who was being trained the same way but kept getting compared to his original over and over again. Like an older sibling who you can never match up to. Who is still a child who craves adult affection and validation and praise, and can't get it because nothing about him is original.

One Damian who, at six years old, in a twist of fate is sucked through a swirling portal and lands in Amity Park, directly on top of, in front of, or in line of sight of one Daniel Fenton, half-ghost extraordinaire and local hero.

What happens next?

Well, for one, Danny recognizes him immediately. He would recognize the face of Damian Wayne anywhere because his best friend was ranting about him all week about Damian Wayne's environmental stuff he does.

And for two, he would recognize that the Damian Wayne in front of him was not Damian Wayne. Because Damian Wayne was a teenager. And the Damian Wayne in front of him is a child. Six years old.

Getting this not-Damian but also-Damian to go along with Danny is not, not an easy task. The tiny Damian is aggressive, regal, and at this point in time, six years old, barely understanding english. He also has a sword.

It takes all day and a google translator to get this Tiny Damian to finally agree to go home with Danny. It's a miracle. Seriously. A tried and true miracle. And its also only when Danny has to fight a ghost does he finally agree, saying something in arabic that Danny doesn't understand.

Danny flies them both home, carrying Tiny Damian like a koala. The ensuing conversation in his room is not any better. It is tiring, long, and exhausting. Tiny Damian is six years old, and every single thing he says when Danny asks where he came from is met with a poorly translated "that's classified".

Danny keeps an eye on the news. There are no reports of Damian Wayne going missing, in fact he's been rather public. Bruce Wayne is not one to lie about his children going missing, and Damian's secretive behavior and young age draws Danny to one conclusion: Damian is a clone.

He doesn't know why Damian Wayne is being cloned. Frankly he doesn't really wanna know, because whatever organization that did it doesn't seem too pure-of-heart if tiny-Damian's immediate attempt of murder when they first met is of any indication. But he's too busy taking care of his city, that he doesn't have time to deal with whatever shady business Tiny-Damian was produced from.

In the end though, he decides that this Tiny-Damian is not going back to whatever place he came from. Tiny Damian disagrees. It is a long, nebulous problem of Damian trying to run away, Danny catching him, and Danny pulling him back home.

In that time, Danny downloads a language app and starts learning Arabic so that they can talk to each other properly. Damian slowly, slowly, starts picking up English.

In that time, Danny also has to inform his friends and his sister about Damian. Tiny Damian is not a fan of this. That is another argument they have. Tiny Damian does not like Sam or Tucker for a long, long while. He only really "listens" to Danny, citing something in arabic that Danny still cannot understand, but has a repeated use of the word "lieazir". It's the only word that Danny can catch in a sentence immediately, because its what little Damian calls Danny.

Tiny Damian, in that front, is very interested in Danny's powers and in his parents work. He finds tubberware of ectoplasm in the fridge once while they're down in the kitchen and calls it something with the word lieazir in it. The other word is something that Danny later learns means water in arabic.

It makes him feel even more uneasy of whatever place little Damian came from.

It takes weeks for little Damian to finally give up on escaping, and then a few weeks more for him to almost entirely lose his spunk. Danny isn't sure what started it. It was as if he'd been flipped with an off-switch.

(Damian had been so confident that the League would go looking for him after his disappearance. He was wrong, and he is crushed. He is still a child, alone, in a country very big and very busy, where nobody understands what he's saying. He feels powerless, helpless.)

(The lazarus boy who calls himself Danyal is nice to him in a way the league has never been, and he's making an effort to learn Damian's language. But he leaves for hours at a time and Damian doesn't have much else to do but wait in this house for him to come back.)

(He tried leaving, many many times, but he doesn't understand the street signs, the roads, the people. He doesn't know where he is, and he feels scared in a way that he's not felt in the League. Danny finds him every single time, hours later when Damian is lost somewhere in Amity Park)

(And he never yells at him. Never. The first time this happens, Damian puffs himself up and prepares himself for this strange lazarus boy to yell at him. Damian feels like he's tripped on the last step of the stairs when Danyal doesn't yell at him.)

(He can tell he's frustrated by the tone of his voice, but when Danyal lays eyes on him he just looks relieved. He gets scolded on the flight home, but Damian doesn't understand any of it other than Danyal just sounds worried. Not angry. He gets a proper scolding once they get back, with Danyal typing into the google translator and playing it for Damian to hear.)

(This happens every single time until Damian finally agrees to stop running away.)

It's with Jazz's help that Danny finally realizes that Damian was depressed. It's with her help again that Danny tries helping with it. It's like trying to get a stray cat to trust him. And with everything else they've done, it takes a long time.

And it is so, so worth it when it all works out.

Tiny Damian doesn't really like Sam, or Tucker, but he likes Danny. And he finally starts calling him his name. His full name, but his name nonetheless. Danny doesn't bother correcting him. He's not looking a gift horse in the mouth. And it's endearing hearing Damian call him Danyal.

Damian in this time, also begins to take more initiative into learning English. And they teach each other words they know. Danny buys flash cards and writes the english alphabet on them, and then finds a book on arabic to teach himself and Damian. Sam and Tucker and Jazz start learning as well.

And then when Danny knows enough arabic and Damian knows enough english, and Damian trusts Danny, Damian tells him he's a clone. It's a quiet moment, late at night when Danny takes Damian up to the ops center to look at what stars they could see through the light pollution.

It'd be very easy for Danny to tell him, "I know. I could tell from the start.". He doesn't, it's not the time nor the place, and Danny's matured enough to know when to open his mouth and when to keep it shut. He lets Damian, almost seven now, tell him that he's a clone of Damian Wayne. Lets him tell him why he was made, what his purpose was.

(Danny will need a minute later to process the fact that Damian Wayne originally came from some kind of... assassin league with an obsession with immortality. But he's focused on Damian.)

In the end, he puts an arm around Damian Wayne's clone and pulls him into his side. Thanks him for trusting him, it must've been hard to tell him, that he's brave for being able to. And if he wants to, they can find a way to get into contact with the Waynes and let Wayne know about him.

Damian hides his face in Danny's ribs and holds him tight, and tells him he doesn't want to. Danny leaves it at that.

Perhaps it would be more morally ethical to alert Damian Wayne that there was a clone of him running around, that his... uh, grandfather was making clones of him. Hell, Danny would have liked it. But little Damian has asked him not to say anything, and little Damian needs someone to rely on; someone he can trust.

And in the end, its not that hard of a decision to make. Danny knows little Damian more than he knows Damian Wayne, and while Danny likes to think he's a good person, he knows he's not a great one. Nor a perfect one. He cares more about someone he knows than someone he doesn't.

If Sam tries to argue with him about it, then Danny will just double down. If Damian doesn't want to tell Wayne about his existence, then it's not their place to say otherwise.

There's a lot more to talk about over Damian's cloning, like what he wants to do moving forward. But that's a long conversation not meant to be one taken late at night. Little Damian is falling asleep at his side, seemingly much more relaxed than he did before, and Danny wasn't gonna ruin that.

And later he's right, it is a long conversation, and a slow one. Talking with Jazz about it helps him figure out what to do moving forward, and their best bet is to let Damian figure out what he wants to do. So he sits Damian down at the dinner table the next morning and tells him before breakfast that he doesn't need to be Damian Wayne.

He doesn't need to learn all the same things Damian Wayne did. He doesn't need to do anything that Damian Wayne does. And little Damian is seven, and he's smart, but Danny still has to word it in a way that's not too complex for him to realize.

And in the end, what he says essentially boils down to "You are not Damian Wayne, you are just you. Don't be anyone else but you." and it'll take more time to drill that into his mind when all he's ever heard and learned from is that he was a copy of Damian Wayne, and he must act like Damian Wayne. But it'll happen.

It's a hard task when Danny's the only person Damian really trusts and he can't be by his side all the time, but he starts to warm up to the rest of Danny's family. The Fenton parents know of him, it's hard to keep a six year old child a secret for as long as Danny did without eventually having to come clean about it. His parents, much to Danny's relief, are very welcoming to Damian.

Damian figures out what he likes. Slowly. He's six years old, almost seven, and nobody expects of him to figure out who he is immediately. No child knows who they are right off the bat. So like any child he begins to explore. His english is better but still rough, and he struggles to read said language, but the Fenton family are happy to help even if Damian learns words that no normal seven year old does. (Many of them scientific.)

Damian realizes he likes stars, even if said interest is influenced by the association to Danny. Danny is all too delighted to tell him all about them, and in the process takes him flying out somewhere where the light pollution doesn't reach and showing him where constellations are.

Damian is six-almost-seven, so he doesn't find all of them, but Danny helps him figure out the easier ones. He tells him the scientific facts behind them, and then tells him about the mythos of the constellations. Later on they make their own constellations and make up stories about what they are.

(Damian adores Danny out of anyone else in the Fenton Family. The name Danyal turns to Dany. If anyone asks, Daniel Fenton is Damian's big brother.)

(He still refers to Jazz as Jazmine, and Danny's parents as Mrs. and Mr. Fenton.)

He realizes that, like his original, he loves animals, and he becomes vegetarian too. Sam is smug and Tucker is disappointed, but Damian doesn't super care about their opinions. ...he's getting better at liking them, even if he thinks Manson is a bit snobby and Foley is too much at times.

Its inevitable that the conversation of school comes into play. Damian can't stay home all day and he needs proper schooling. So after a long talk with Damian, they agree to send him to elementary school.

...And before they can do that the Fenton Family goes through with legally adopting Damian into the family as Damian Fenton. It takes convincing to get the administration to enroll him into the first grade without a proper schooling background.

(On his adoption form, Damian asks to change his birthday to the day he met Danny. Perhaps its not the most responsible thing to agree to, but Danny wants Damian to find himself. And its not like they know when his actual birthday was.)

And despite where he learned it from, Damian quite likes sparring. And he quite likes sparring with Danny in particular. Danny makes it fun, something that was foreign in his old league training, and Danny never hurts him. It's a lot like roughhousing.

Danny tells Damian how he got his powers, and how his parents don't know. Damian wakes up late at night to Danny sneaking out of the room (their house is not big enough to give Damian an individual room, and Danny agreed to share his) to go fight ghosts.

It's upsetting. Damian knows that Danny gets injured in those fights, even if Danny never comes home until after those injuries have been fixed up. He wants to help, and he voices it, and Danny shoots him down.

It becomes an argument, something that has happened less and less over the months.

Damian is experienced.

Damian is a child.

Damian knows how to fight.

Damian is mortal and fragile. He is a tiny, squishy human boy and the people Danny fights are ghosts who are near-indestructible. Who are intimately acquainted with death but also do not remember that humans are capable of it. Especially when they're fighting.

Damian says that Batman's rogues are capable of the same thing, that he lets his Robins help him fight.

And Danny says he is not Batman and he will not allow Damian to fight ghosts with him. Those ghosts will kill him and it will hurt. Dying hurts in a way that is terrifying and unimaginable and he will not risk Damian experiencing it. Not even Sam and Tucker help him in his fights most of the time, they are not able to. Not in the way Danny can.

Damian doesn't talk to him all day the following morning, but Danny does not budge on his decision. Damian tries to follow him out the next night, and Danny catches him and takes him back. Over, and over, and over again.

Until finally he gets intercepted by Skulker while taking Damian back home and is forced to fight him in front of Damian. (If it had been his choice, he would not have let Damian see it at all.)

It's not pretty. Skulker has new weapons, weapons that hurt, a lot. Danny is stuck between trying to take him down and trying to protect Damian from Skulker's attacks at him and from all the debris being created from the fight. It's with Damian's quick thinking and fast feet that finally helps Danny take Skulker out. But Danny is badly injured in the aftermath.

He doesn't have time to take Damian home and get medical attention. So he takes Damian with him to wherever he has his supplies stashed. He doesn't call Sam or Tucker or Jazz, and has to stitch himself up alone, with Damian watching.

Damian is quiet the entire time, he feels awful. Danny's not mad at him -- well, he is. But not because he had to protect him. He's just tired, and a little disappointed in him. Damian doesn't sneak out again. But he still feels helpless.

Danny tells him that that is why he doesn't want Damian to help him. Ghosts, his ghosts, are hard to fight. They are powerful, and his 'rogues' are mean. They will not care that Damian is a mortal child, if he picks a fight with them, they will fight back. And Damian is not immune to certain ghost powers like Danny is.

Damian is silent. He wants to help. But Danny is right: he is a squishy, mortal, living child. There is not much he can do to help Danny. Not without any gear to do it. Not without any powers to do it. He wants to help. He cannot.

Damian, almost-seven-years old, begins to cry. It is the last thing Danny was expecting, and for a moment he is at a loss of what to do.

Damian reaches for him -- in the Fenton family, physical affection is expected. Damian is getting used to it, but Danny is the only one he likes touching him -- and then stops, cringing away like he only just remembered that Danny was hurt.

He only cries harder.

Danny meets him halfway and pulls him into his arms, situating Damian between his knees from where he's sitting. Through his tears, Damian says he wants to help. He wants to help. He doesn't want Danny to get hurt anymore. He doesn't want Danny to fight ghosts alone anymore. He's scared that Danny will stop coming back.

Danny doesn't have anything to say to reassure him. Can't say anything to reassure him. It'll all just be lies. He's not going to stop fighting ghosts, he can't. He's not going to stop getting hurt, he can't. He's not going to bring Damian with him, he can't. He'd never be able to live with himself.

"I'll always come back." He says though, because that is something he can promise. Whether dead or alive, he'll come back.

When the tears finally stop, Damian doesn't say anything again. He sniffles, and presses his ear to Danny's chest, listening to the steady, slow heartbeat. If he puts his ear to his sternum and strains his ear, Damian would almost hear the low hum of Danny's ghost core, like a small dwarf sun.

"If you die, I'll drag you to the Lazarus pools myself." Damian mumbles eventually, his voice sleep-full. It's spoken in arabic, and Danny only understands half of it.

He laughs quietly, and smoothes his hand over Damian's hair. He hasn't had a haircut since he arrived, it's gotten long and there are curls beginning to form. "Okay."

Damian falls asleep shortly after, and with much consideration to his own injuries and Damian's sleeping form, Danny flies them back home.

It's hard to say, but not much changes in routine afterwards. Damian hovers close to Danny, more than usual. Danny still goes out at night, he still stitches himself up before going back, he still goes back home where Damian is waiting worriedly for him. Damian doesn't like falling asleep without knowing Danny is there.

Now the hard question is: when does little Damian finally meet the Waynes for the first time? There's plenty of ways to go about it, both easy and hard. Perhaps we go this way:

The Fenton family are visiting Maddie's sister in Arkansas. And Damian is dragging Danny around through the surrounding forest. It's his first time being in a forest this large since he moved in with the Fentons. Safe to say he is delighted by all of the nature, and he's dragging Danny along with him.

Danny likes the peace and quiet it gives him, he's found that he enjoys the rural area more than he likes the city. He's happy to let Damian point out every plant he recognizes, even if some of it is in arabic.

They walk around all day until Damian gets tired, and then at night when the sky is clear Danny and him go look at the stars. It's peaceful at first.

On the third day of their visit, Damian drags Danny out far from the house. It's slightly worrying, but Danny can always fly them back if it gets too late.

It's in the woods that Danny and Damian stray much too far from Alicia's house, and from there in the early evening that they run into Batman and Red Robin, both of them in rough 'just got out of a fight' shape.

Safe to say, it was the last thing any of them expected to run into. Damian and Danny had stopped at a small crik to rest, and the two vigilantes came through the tree line on the other side.

It was... quite the staring contest.

Damian, now seven years old at this point, forgot to mention that the Waynes were vigilantes when he told Danny he was a clone. But he was told that Batman was his original's father.

Before anyone can say anything, little Damian wraps his arms tight around Danny's middle and stares Batman and Red Robin down. His sharp edges have softened around the Fentons. But he makes no exceptions to anyone else outside of Danny's immediate social circle.

Danny's arm automatically goes around Damian's shoulders, and he looks between both Red and Batman uneasily. If they were here then it meant that there was something unsafe nearby. Danny did not fight the living, and he wasn't going to put Damian in the crosshairs of anything that does.

"Should... should we leave?" He asks, brows knotted together with a frown. He stands. "Is there something going on nearby?"

Batman suddenly grunts, and looks at him. "It's been handled." He says, and his voice is gruffer than Danny imagined it. Lower. Danny is not all that comfortable with that answer.

"Do you guys live nearby?" Red Robin asks, and Danny can't help but notice that he keeps looking at Damian. Warily. In fact, so is Batman.

He pushes Damian behind him slightly, and Damian's grip tightens on him. "Not... exactly." He says, his eyes narrowing slightly. "My family's visiting my Aunt and my brother wanted to explore since it's his first time out of the city, I guess we wandered too far away if we're running into you."

There's no visible indication of whether or not both Bats reacted to him calling Damian his brother. But he can all but feel little Damian preen at the title, it makes Danny's mouth twitch into a smile as his hand finds Damian's hair.

"Would we be able to go back with you?" Red Robin asks, startling both Danny and seemingly Batman, who looks at him instantly.

"Red Robin." He growls out, and Red Robin throws Batman a look of annoyance.

"We are lost, B. They jammed the comms and our trackers back there and it hasn't come back on yet, his aunt may have the signal we need to let the others know where we are."

They end up walking back with Danny and Damian. It's silent, and awkward, and Danny has Damian walking on his opposite side so he's not near the vigilantes. Red Robin is fiddling with a phone but still can't get a signal.

Batman is silently brooding.

Red eventually gives up and shoves the phone into a pocket on his belt, then turns to make conversation with Danny. "I never thanked you for letting us walk with you. Thanks, by the way."

Danny blinks at him, and smiles awkwardly. "No problem, man," he says, "I'm uh, Danny." He glances down at Damian, who looks up at him with big green eyes, and Damian nods quietly.

He looks back at Red Robin, and says, "This is my little brother, Damian." And Damian peers over his side and glares at Red Robin -- and Batman, who looks over when Danny says his name.

"He looks like Damian Wayne," Red Robin notes, head tilting like he's inspecting him.

Danny huffs dryly, "We get that a lot."

Red Robin smiles at him, its a tilted thing. It makes Danny uneasy. "Where did you say you were from?"

"I didn't," Danny says bluntly, and he really doesn't want to tell them where he's from. Not when Red Robin was acting strange, but they're vigilantes and notorious for their detective skills. If he's suspicious, they'll look into him. "But I'm from Amity Park."

Damian in that moment, peers around Danny again and scowls at Red Robin. Full on scowls at him, as if it were the first months when he met Danny. "You're being nosy." He sneers, his hand squeezing Danny's.

"Damian," Danny hisses, suppressing a smile. Damian jumps like he's been startled, and looks up at him with big green eyes. "He's just being curious."

(He lets his smile slip through briefly, just to let Damian know he's not that upset. A tension leaves his little brother's shoulders.)

"But he is." Damian continues, a whine leaking into his voice. Danny jabs him in the ribs with his fingers, and Damian jumps, swatting away his hand with a squeak.

"Would you rather have us walk in dead silence, Dames?" He goes for Damian's ribs again, a grin stretching across his face as Damian jumps back again and swats his hand. "Hm? Hm? We could just walk in awkward silence for the entire trip back, I know you just love awkward silence, little brother."

(It's funny, saying little brother always sounds so uncomfortable when he reads it in books and watches it on tv. But Jazz always makes it sound so natural when she does it, and Danny finds that he sounds the same too.)

Damian continues to bat away his hands, but it's not enough to prevent him from squealing with laughter when Danny gets a good hold on him and starts tickling him. Danny's grin only gets bigger, and he swoops Damian up with his arm and holds him like a football.

"Is that it? Huh? Me, you, and two vigilantes walking back to Aunt Alicia's cabin in complete, utter silence." He says, "You won't get to hear any of my amazing jokes."

Damian's wriggling, trying to pound on Danny's ribs, he's giggling uncontrollably. It's the best sound Danny's ever heard. "Your jokes are awful! Laeazir! Put me down!" He cries, grinning from ear to ear.

(From the side, both Red Robin and Batman tense up.)

Danny chuckles, and through a short series of flips, has Damian sitting on his shoulders. "I will not. You're sitting up in air jail for insulting my hilarious jokes."

Damian tugs on his hair in revenge, harrumphing at him but making no move to get down. Danny squeezes his ankles playfully, and looks back to Batman and Red Robin.

Both vigilantes look at him like he's grown a second head.

....Red Robin looks at him like he's grown a second head. Batman just stares, and then looks away. Danny tilts his head at them, his smile waning. "You guys look like you've seen a ghost or something."

(Damian tugs on his hair again. A silent boo at him.)

Red Robin jerks, "Oh, sorry." He says, not sounding all that sorry. "It's just... I've lost count to how many times I've saved Damian Wayne from the occasional kidnapping and he's always been very... serious. It's just weird seeing a kid that looks like him be... not serious."

From his shoulders he feels Damian hide his smile in his hair, that's another thing they can put on their "Things That Damian Does That Damian Wayne Does Not" list. It started as a joke, but it's been surprisingly helpful for when Damian is questioning himself.

However, Danny is not a fan of the comparison, and he smiles widely, perhaps a tad passive-aggressive. "It's a good thing that my Damian isn't Damian Wayne then." He says, giving him the slight stink eye.

Red Robin picks up on it quickly, and nods.

The rest of the way is spent in idle conversation. It's oddly casual, even if most of the conversation is Danny talking about himself. It's annoying, but he unfortunately understands the reason. Secret identities and all that.

Damian interjects a few times, some parts to talk to Danny, and other parts to throw shade at Batman and Red Robin. Mostly Red Robin, who seems begrudgingly used to it.

("I'm surprised you haven't asked me much about myself." Red Robin says at one point into the conversation. Over his shoulder Batman glares at Red Robin. "A lot of civilians do when they're able."

Danny stares at him. "You're a vigilante." He says, frowning, "Isn't it superhero 101 that you don't ask superheroes for their secret identity?"

"You'd be surprised."

"Huh. Well, no. I'm not gonna ask you about yourself. I quite like talking all about me.")

When they finally reach the cabin, it's late into the night and Danny has moved Damian from his shoulders to his front in a koala-like carry. Damian's fast asleep with his head on Danny's shoulder.

His family was also frantically searching for him, and Jazz sees him first. She immediately turns behind her and yells "I FOUND HIM!". And then sprints over to him, his parents thundering not too far behind.

Both vigilantes are subsequently ignored as Jazz dotes over him and Danny, and soon enough so is his mom and dad. They're all talking all at once, asking him where he was, they were worried sick, did he know how late it was.

He shushes all of them, loudly. And whispers that Damian is sleeping. His family then immediately quiet themselves, and go back to yelling at him in a more appropriate manner.

"Me and Damian walked too far by accident." Danny finally says when he can get a word in, and then he jabs his thumb in Red Robin and Batman's direction. "We also found two superheroes who need assistance."

The speed of which his family all snap their heads over to the direction he's pointing is almost comical. As is all of their expressions of shock.

His mother is the first to regain her senses, and she sighs at him. She sighs! "Only you, Danny." She says, and Jazz snorts into her arm.

#dpxdc #dpdc #dpxdc crossover #danny fenton is not the ghost king #danny phantom au #dpdc danny fenton #i am incapable of making short posts it seems. heavy sigh #this post is open to add ons if anyone's interested 👉👈 #this entire au is essentially the song 'Strange Sight' by KT Turnstall from the Tinkerbell and the Neverbeast #This post mostly goes into how danny and damian's relationship develops because i think that's the more important part of the au #also damian's like six i firmly believe he wouldn't know much english #no no he's learning arabic first and then english LATER. if he would ever even get there with the league #iirc all the damian clones liked Danny so i wanna explore how their relationship got to that point. Like what happened for Danny to get eve #getting one Damian clone to like him enough to go up to bat for him? that takes time and patience and i wanna explore that lol #danny's in his late teens here btw. #Clone Damian is a 7yo child and I'm writing him as such because its fun. I thought about having Clone Damian change his name but nothing fi #little clone damian is also A Tad Clingy. Danny is the First Person to have shown him a kindness and Damian Imprinted On Him Like a Duck #i love clone aus and clone aus love me #clone damian and danny are bROOOTHEERSS #i thought about making clone damian's name damon bc its close to the name damian but also i like the idea that clone damian keeps the-- #original name and then makes it his own. something about taking the name you were given thats not really yours and MAKING it yours

[jo-harrington]

Sunsets.

They were always better when you watched them with someone else.

You glanced down at the hands in your lap: yours and Sam's, twined together like your lives have been for the past 5 years. The best of friends from the moment her family moved into town. You couldn't remember a time when you existed without her.

She's chatting now, telling some story about her boyfriend's dunce behavior to cheer you up after Mark broke your heart. Douchebag. You don't really know how you got here of all places; how things seemed to go so right with him and then so terribly wrong.

Sam made a joke at both Patrick and Mark's expense. You laughed and the sound of it was unfamiliar and almost roared in your ear, like a hundred people were laughing.

Everyone always laughed at Sam's jokes. Everyone loved Sam. Everything always worked out for her, even in the most unlikely situations. She was just lucky like that.

You told her once, after she won the talent show at school, that it almost seemed like she was the star of The Samantha Show or something. She found it hilarious, apparently, but you had an inkling that her feelings were still hurt. This was real life, not TV. She didn't just win because she was some main character, she worked really hard on her dance routine.

You felt a little bad after that, never brought it up again. The dark little voice deep down inside you smothered for now.

Because yeah, she did work hard. You knew that. She was smart and talented and funny and caring and a great friend and neighbor and that's just how it was because...

Because...

Because she strived to be all of those thing.

Things you…really didn’t bother with.

Because you were…

You.

Average, squeaking by a three-point-something GPA, wannabe artist who could barely draw, never left town before even when there was that field trip to DC because you got the mumps. A little nervous, a little clumsy, a little romantic with your head in the clouds. You always had a crush but nothing ever really came of those crushes until Mark.

The only boy to ever like you back and then he broke your heart.

“I just want to disappear,” you muttered pathetically and let go of Sam’s hand to cover your eyes again.

"So do it!" Sam finally hopped to her feet in the way that only she could, raring for another passioned, motivational speech that she was known for. You really needed one of those and also loathed that she was about to give you one. "Disappear! Leave!”

This was not the speech you expected.

"Uh, what?" you let out a mixture of a scoff and a laugh, tears forgotten for now. "What do you mean leave? Hello, graduation in a few months. Prom? Then college. What happened to your big plan last week? One last summer in Port Geneva?"

"Forget one last summer," she waved her arms wildly. "This is your life! You're my best friend, I want you happy. Tell me the truth. Do you really even want to go to college? Wouldn't you rather pack up big blue and go on that adventure like you talked about in 8th grade?"

At your blank stare, Sam grabbed you by the shoulders and shook you.

"That's the whole reason we're friends in the first place don't you remember? The ice breaker?! Are you kidding?"

"I don't have a clue," you giggled as she jostled you around.

"Our entire friendship built on a lie. UGH. Ok. Mrs. Mills what-do-you-wanna-do-in-10-years activity? And everyone's was stupid. Tina wanted to be on the cover of Tiger Beat for the Girl Superstar issue. Patrick...gotta love him...but he wanted to be the starting quarterback for the Miami Dolphins. Mine was so dumb I don't even want to say it, great first impressions I made as the new kid.

"But you wanted to see the world! Pack your bags and board a train around the US. Paint the sunset at the Grand Canyon. See glaciers in Alaska! Hell, you even said you'd travel to Middle Earth if you could. And I thought you meant the equator!"

You both laughed and as she went on and on about things you apparently said 4 years ago and as the memory came back to you, your heart ached.

Yeah, you did say that stuff didn't you? You’d been such a silly, idealistic kid before you grew up and reality hit you time and time again.

"That was just kids stuff Sammie," you laughed dismissively. "I'm...I'm gonna take classes at State, and I'm gonna work at the furniture store and I'm gonna..."

"You're gonna pine over Mark Greckman over the rest of your life?" The hands were on her hips again. "No, ma'am, you...you're gonna go on your adventure and...oh my...you're gonna find a prince of some European kingdom or...or a handsome stranger in an Italian villa. Or both. Hoards of men fighting for your affection."

"Please stop," you stood up and grabbed her as she started waving her arms around and pantomiming kissing a tall stranger. "Stop it."

"Ok I'm done, I'm done," she promised. "I just don't want you to be crying over that idiot anymore. And we might be close to graduation but...I don't know...you can still change your mind."

"Hmm," you shrugged. "I dunno. If just sounds so…”

“Unlike you?”

“Yeah.”

"Just think about it," she urged you. "You and your Volkswagen Beetle…and the world...the whole universe if you want it! The possibilities are endless. I just feel like...1985...it's gonna be your year."

There was a spark of inspiration that grew inside of you, and in your heart, you knew she was right.

You pulled her into your arms, grateful to have your best friend.

"Port Geneva was filmed in front of a live studio audience."

Eddie hit the rewind button on the remote and watched the scene speed in reverse until it hit Sam’s big speech. He hit play and watched for a minute then paused, the blurry image of your giggling face frozen on his screen for the foreseeable future.

He sighed and leaned back on the couch to enjoy your company for a minute.

The living room was dark, only illuminated by the glow of the TV and the street lights outside shining through the windows. There was a stack of tapes on the coffee table, along with his abandoned homework. The pizza he ordered would be here soon but for now…it was just you and him.

“M’sorry Mark was an asshole,” he said aloud into the still room. “To be honest…I kind of warned you about him way back.”

You don’t say anything. You never do.

“I know, the heart wants what it wants.” He picked a piece of lint off of his jeans. “I just want to look out for you honey.”

You stay smiling on the screen, and he can imagine it got the slightest bit bigger when he said that.

“I know you try to look after me too. Guess that doesn’t stop either of us getting hurt right?” He chuckled and pat his hands on his lap.

This was pathetic, talking to a fictional character like they were really in the room with him.

You were just…you were everything. And you’d been there for him, a balm to his woes. You had been since he started watching Port Geneva way back when, but especially since everything went down last year.

With his dad and the house and…

There was a knock at the door and Eddie hit the eject button so he could put in the next tape in watch with dinner. It was gonna be a good episode, you tell Mark off and even punch him; he remembered it fondly.

Defending yourself. He was proud of his girl.

Eddie ate his dinner and watched his episodes, taped from when they originally aired. Wednesday nights at 9pm, right before the news. He did his homework and occasionally repeated the rewind-pause-play act that he had perfected over the years so he could make another joke or, just once, complain about his chemistry homework.

Life was hard. For everyone. But especially if your name was Eddie Munson. Still, he endured. He’d never been a stranger to fantasy and escapism, he had his books and his game and his movies but there was something so…comforting in the realism that was your show.

A small suburban town full of normals. All sorts of mundane activities that mostly everyone made feel were…life altering events. And a handful of misunderstood outcasts—like you and Scott and Bonnie—who played supporting characters to the stars. Stars that were, quite frankly, unrealistic and annoying.

Eddie felt that way sometimes though, like he was just some background character waiting for his chance at the spotlight. Who had been the main character in his story, huh? Ronnie? Yeah…he could see that, now that she was on her great college adventure.

But with her gone, what would come of his storyline? Did he just fade into the background again?

Eddie ejected the tape before the current episode finished and propped his feet on the coffee table as he flipped the channels to something else. He needed to focus on something else. He would come back to his tapes, to you, another night and he would wish that you were real once again. Knocking on his door, taking him on a grand adventure with you.

But for now he just needed to stew in his…sad secondary character thoughts.

You got your time in the spotlight, a 2-episode arc at the end of the season, and as much as he hoped that it would be his turn soon…to be the character everyone loved…the person everyone loved…he knew it might never happen for him.

Eddie the Freak. Eddie the outcast. Eddie the idiot.

He would even take a single scene dedicated to him at this point.

Was that too much to ask?

Coming in 2024.

Find the Masterlist here. And the original blurb here.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #Eddie Munson angst #stranger than (fan)fiction #eddie munson #Stranger things fic

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if i don't design my grandpa a tattoo of his dead mom I never met?

I (20 M) and my grandpa (50s? M) have a pretty good relationship. We don't talk very often because he lives in a different state, but we see each other a few times a year when he visits town. Our relationship has grown pretty shallow because of how little we interact with each other, as we haven't had any deep conversations or interactions since I was about 14 when he moved out of state.

Due to this, he still pretty much sees me exactly how he did when I was around the ages of 7-10 as this was when he was in my life the most. I've been actively going by another name since age 13, he knows, but he refuses to call me my name (despite it literally being my legal middle name that he's always known and used to call me it before I decided to reject my legal first name). He's sat me down in private telling me he would never call me my chosen name because it's too hard for him to remember. I'm kind of bitter to him towards this and am allowing our relationship to become more shallow. I'm trans and I know he'll never see me as a man, because he basically sees me as a 10 year old girl and no matter what I do he won't respect my identity. I don't think he like...believes in trans people but we've never had a direct conversation about it.

Now heres the actual situation: a week before father's day, he messages me on facebook at midnight asking me to design him a tattoo alongside my cousin (25 M) who is in a complete other state and is also kinda shallow towards him due to being closeted as bi and my grandpa being homophobic to mlm (he's ok with lesbians bc my cousins mom is one and she's the favorite child lol). he wanted a tribute tattoo dedicated to my dead great grandmother that I never met and don't care about at all. This is completely out of my scope of artistic skill as I mostly draw suggestive art of thick anthro women and I don't want to make a tribute tattoo for someone i never met? Considering how porn-y my style is I think it would be disrespectful to do it as well. Also I was high as fuck when he messaged me. I don't know why I did, but I agreed to do it and then asked my cousin to do it, despite him also never meeting her. He agreed to handle it. Weeks pass

A week or so ago, my grandpa came in town and the first thing he said to me is "Hey girl! Where's my tattoo?" and I was instantly uncomfortable but i just shrugged it off and made a joke and it didn't come up for a while. It turns out my cousin didn't draw the tattoo either, but I don't blame him too much ngl. The whole week he was in town, he kept bugging me about doing this tattoo for him and I kept shrugging him off. My mom, who actually knew the lady, made a tattoo design and it was really clever and personalized and well thought-out, but he rejected it because it wasn't my cousin or I who designed it.

I never plan on making it. Should I just do it to get it over with?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[chameleon66]

Love’s Illusion

Warnings: Angst, implied autistic Gus, past bullying, Bria (let me know if I need to add anything else)

Author’s note: So funny story, I was planning to post this a few days ago but when I went back to edit this my computer completely crashed and it took days for the repair shop to get it back up and running so yeah it’s been a while since I have written a Fanfiction but I hope to upload more of these more often. With all of that said happy reading and happy Gustholomule week.

Matt was getting worried, he hadn’t heard from Gus since yesterday when they accidently ran into Bria at the bonesburrow market place and Bria had a lot to say to Gus and none of it was very nice.

Guess she wasn’t over what happened in the illusionist’s graveyard. Gus was so obviously hurt by what she had said, so much so that Gus choked back whatever words that had died on his tongue and said that he had forgotten he had to help his dad with something.

Gus then summoned Emmeline and flew off in the direction of his house. Matt was furious at Bria, she had no business being here reopening old scars. As angry Matt was he swallowed his rage and just turned his back on her.

On his way home Matt texted Gus, asking if he was ok but never got an answer, so an hour later he texted him again this time telling Gus to not think about what Bria said and that she wasn’t worth losing sleep over. Matt still got no answer.

The next day he still hadn’t gotten a reply back and Matt couldn’t stop himself, he went over to Gus’s house but when he knocked on the door he got no answer.

After waiting another minute he decided to go around the house and look for another way in. Matt moved to the side of the house and cast a spell circle raising a platform to the window that if Matt remembered correctly was Gus’s bedroom window.

Matt peered through the glass to see Gus’s bedroom dimly lit, the only sources of light seemed to be the window and a crystal ball on the floor, and next to the crystal ball was a gloomy looking Gus laying on his back staring up at the ceiling.

Has he been like this since he got home? Matt asked himself.

Matt knocked on the window which seemed to snap Gus back to the real world as he sat up and looked around his room before his eyes landed on the window with his boyfriend on the other side of the glass.

Gus stiffened in his shoulders before he climbed on to his bed to the window and opened it for Matt.

“You could have just used the front door.” Gus smiled but Matt could tell it was forced.

“I tried knocking but you never answered.” Matt answered climbing through the window onto Gus’s bed beside him.

Matt’s boyfriend looked away and scratched the back of his head awkwardly, “Oh sorry about that.” Matt could see Gus’s mind was somewhere else as he wouldn’t look in his boyfriend’s direction and he was laying on the floor when Matt first saw him which he did when he was feeling overwhelmed or stressed out.

“No need to say sorry you dork.” Matt joked trying to lighten the mood, Gus looked back at him and tried to smile though it still looked very forced.

“Are you okay, Gus?”

Gus sighed leaning his back against the wall and drawing his knees up to his chest, another thing Matt knew he did when he was experiencing a negative emotion. Matt paused trying to find the right words to say, then formulating them into a sentence.

“Look, Bria has always been a jerk and she’s not worth getting upset over.” Matt shuffled closer to Gus. Gus looked down at his bedsheets, wrapping his arms around himself.

“That’s not why I am upset.” Gus uttered in a monotone tone that didn’t feel right in Gus’s voice.

“Why?” Matt pressed, he felt like the answer was staring him dead in the face but the construction witch just couldn’t put his finger on it.

“I guess I’m just kinda mad at myself.” Gus rubbed his eyes from under his glasses, probably trying to keep his tears from flowing.

Now it was Matt’s turn to choke on his words, How did Gus come to the conclusion to be mad at himself? Especially when Bria was the one who said all those things to him.

“Why at yourself?” Matt asked, trying to keep the millions of questions in his head.

Gus looked at his Boyfriend with guilt plaguing his midnight sky eyes. “Everyone says I’m really smart but then why do I act so dumb?”

Matt remained silent waiting for Gus to continue while also pre thinking of what to say to comfort Gus when he finished speaking.

“I get tricked by everyone and I always get upset over stupid things.” Gus buried his face in his hands as if he was trying to hide from what he thought was the truth.

“I just let myself get tricked and used all the time, Bria has just been one of many people who tricked me and for some stupid reason I just can’t see it.”

Matt felt his mouth get very dry, he figured that he wasn’t the only one to have tricked Gus but he never knew the details of it all.

“I’m nearly sixteen for titian’s sake, so why do I still act like a child?”

Gus threw his head back against the wall hitting it, the vibrations causing one of Gus’s framed pictures to come loose, fall and hit Gus on the head.

“Ouch!” Gus cried holding his head.

Matt began to reach a hand towards the illusionist only for Gus’s head to shoot up and open his eyes which were glowing blinding bright blue. Matt pried his eyes away from his boyfriend to see the room being consumed in the same blue glow.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, not again.” Gus’s words were sharp and his voice sounded scared. Suddenly the room shifted to the illusionist graveyard but everything was tinted blue.

Matt squinted his eyes as a silhouette came into focus and then took the form of Bria who wore a sarcastic smile on her face that just made Matt want to punch her lights out.

“Aw, is the little baby gonna cry?” Bria or illusion Bria teasingly cooed. “You know, I’ve always wondered how someone so smart could ever be so stupid.”

Gus curled tighter into a ball, shutting his eyes so tightly the skin around his eyes began to wrinkle.

“This is why you’re so useful Gus, you’re so desperate to make friends, you can be a tool.” Bria cackled, placing her hands on her hips.

Gus began to shake his head back and forth and gritting his teeth, “Shut up, just shut up!” Gus buried his head in his arms trying to tune out Bria’s voice.

Matt was trying to process the things he was hearing, Gus had truly been holding in a lot and it seemed that now was when Matt needed to help his boyfriend.

Slowly Matt placed a hand on Gus’s shoulder, Gus looked back at him, eyes still glowing with his brows knit down.

“Gus..” Matt started but paused. He was never good with emotions especially other people’s, what if he just messed up and made things worse?

No, Matt didn’t have time to think about that. This wasn’t about him, it was about Gus. Who really needed a hug and some comforting words as soon as possible.

So Matt figuratively manned up and began speaking again.

“Gus, can you try to take some deep breaths please?” Matt asked, silently praying he wouldn’t mess anything up.

Gus’s breathing kept hitching as he exhaled while he was still clearly trying to hold himself together, Matt directed Gus’s attention to him as Matt began taking deep breaths with Gus’s beginning to follow his example of breathing.

“That’s it Gus, you’re doing good.” Matt reassured.

After a minute of deep breathing and encouraging words from Matt the illusion around them began to fade and suddenly they were back in Gus’s bedroom with no trace of the graveyard of Bria in sight.

Gus wore a somber look on his face as if he just spent all of his energy on his feelings.

“Sorry about that-.”

“No.” Matt interrupted, “Don’t apologize, it wasn’t your fault.” Matt gave Gus’s shoulder a soft squeeze.

“Why can’t I learn though?” Gus asked, still not looking in Matt’s direction.

“I always get tricked and yet I’m always still called the smart kid, so why can’t I just be smart for once?” Gus’s words felt like ice water that made your skin feel all prickly and Matt knew he needed to bring some warmth to Gus.

Matt Grabbed both of Gus’s hands and rubbed his thumb over the knuckles urging Gus to slowly look up at Matt’s sympathetic eyes.

“Gus, you are the smartest witch I have ever known.” Matt saw the doubtful expression on Gus’s face so he kept going. “And I’m not just saying that, you are always eager to learn something new and you always notice the small details that you apply to help anyone who needs it.”

Matt saw Gus’s ear perk up which encouraged Matt to continue speaking.

“Sure you may be a bit Gullible but that’s like the best part about you, you always find it somewhere in your heart to forgive people and give them a second chance to prove themselves and you still continue forward even when you are scared, so long story short.”

“Too late.” Gus joked which made Matt chuckle.

“The point is, Nobody's perfect but that’s ok because I still like what’s flawed about you.” Matt explained.

Gus smiled, a true smile that made Matt's heart jump a little. “Thank you Matty.” Gus thanked warmly.

“Don’t mention it.” Matt beamed then placed a kiss on Gus’s nose.

“Do you feel better?” Matt asked.

“A little bit.” Gus answered with his smile faltering a bit.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Just stay?” Gus shyly requested. “Of course.” Matt pulled Gus into his arms, laying them both down on the bed and letting Gus lay down beside him and then wrap his arms around him while Matt kissed the back of his neck softly.

“I love you, Gus.”

“I love you too Matty.”

#random #i love them #toh mattholomule #toh gus #the owl house gus #gus x matholumule #gustholomule #gus x matt #gus porter #gustholomule week 2024 #mattholomule #my writing #the owl house fanfiction #toh fanfic

[hederasgarden]

Nothing Lasts But Light

Summary: You love Layla enough to accept anything, even Marc.

Pairing: Established Layla El-Faouly x Reader l Layla El-Faouly x Reader x Marc Spector l Marc Spector x Reader

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only. Explicit sexual acts, threesome, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PIV, cum eating, and angst. 

Word Count: 3.4K 

A/N: I can’t remember how long Marc disappeared from Layla’s life but I took a few liberties with this fic and made it over a year. 

You meet Layla first.

It’s a fast friendship that grows effortlessly between you, sometimes it’s hard to remember life before her. She’s beautiful and confident, so at ease in her own skin that you can’t help but envy her. Love comes later, after Marc disappears and your friendship deepens into something more. Her lips on yours are a revelation, the feel of her hands on your skin addictive. She cracks you open easily, putting your body under hers and drawing out your soft heart while guarding her own.

You know what she does for a living is dangerous. She never tells you where she goes but she comes back to you beaten up more times than you can count. You accept her every time. You have to - you love her. Turning her away is unthinkable, even tonight when she shows up with Marc whose sharp eyes are distrustful and wary. They’re both bloody, their clothes torn. He is arguably worse off, looking anxiously over his shoulder. You’ve been half-expecting this since Layla left three weeks ago after a phone call from him but you’re still a little surprised he’s actually here. She spent months looking for him, always coming up empty-handed.

“Come in, come in,” you encourage, stepping back and letting them into your apartment.

It’s a small space, cozy but cluttered. Marc takes it all in, zeroing in on the photos that decorate your mantel… The ones that show you and Layla laughing and carefree. His gaze skips over to the kitchen table where one of her jackets is folded neatly over the back of a chair. The whole apartment is littered with evidence of the life you’ve built with her. One without him.

Layla helps Marc onto your couch while you rummage under the sink in the kitchen for the first aid kit. When you return you look between them, trying to determine who needs attention first. Most of the blood on Layla looks like it’s from him… Or maybe someone else because if Marc had lost all that blood he wouldn’t be upright. You reach to treat the still bleeding cut on his brow but he grasps your wrists before you can touch him. His grip is just shy of painful, fingernails digging into your skin. You glance at Layla who lays a hand on Marc’s thigh.

“Let her clean you up,” she says. “Please.”

Marc releases you after a long moment. Tension lines every muscle of his body when you step between his legs. Layla closes her eyes and leans back against the couch. As you slowly clean Marc's face you look at her every so often, cataloging the weary set of her brow and the utter exhaustion written all over her. There’s a scratch on her face but it’s superficial. Her shirt clings wetly to her chest from what you hope isn’t blood.

She seems to sense you looking and opens her eyes, smiling softly. “I’m ok, habibti,” she promises.  

You nod and turn your attention back to Marc. The weight of his gaze on you is heavy, almost a physical sensation. You lean closer, craning over him to follow the deep gash in his shoulder down his back. When you almost lose your balance he steadies you with a hand on your hip. It’s strange being so close to him. Even after he married Layla he wasn’t around much, disappearing for days or weeks at a time. When he was home, he kept his distance. You suspected back then whatever he did for a living probably wasn’t exactly legal and you know neither is Layla’s chosen profession.

Tipping his head back and to the side you look at his neck, frowning. The skin there is puckered from what looks to have been a blade to his throat. “This is going to need stitches,” you tell him, concerned.

That was never something you excelled at. A wonky little scar on Layla’s shoulder from when you patched her up months ago was a testament to that and you still feel guilty for marring her beauty. She promptly silenced your concern with a kiss and those clever fingers of hers.

“Just clean it up, it’ll heal on its own,” Marc directs, staring straight ahead.  

Layla cracks an eye open and gives you a reassuring nod, encouraging you to continue cleaning away the blood and grime from his skin. Up close he smells like soot and cordite but every once and a while you catch the floral scent of your girlfriend’s perfume. After you’re finished there’s a sizable pile of bloody bandages on the coffee table behind you, but at least Marc looks better.

Layla opens her eyes, taking in a deep breath. Her nose wrinkles. “I need a shower,” she announces, standing.

She cups the back of your head and kisses you sweetly before pulling away to rest her forehead against yours. You stay like that for several moments, taking comfort from one another before she pulls away and disappears down the hall. When you look back at Marc he’s staring up at you. His hand is still on your hip and you realize yours is still resting on his shoulder. You withdraw it with a quiet apology and his own falls away as you busy yourself with cleaning up the gauze and putting away your supplies. Several minutes pass in silence before Marc finally speaks.

“She told you everything?” He asks.

You turn to face him, surprised to find he’s only inches away from you. Barely 20 minutes ago he was swaying on his feet, leaning heavily on Layla but now he’s standing upright, color back in his face. Although he’s not a big man his presence is overwhelming, commanding your attention and respect. It’s easy to see why Layla fell for him, drawn to the way he exudes both danger and comfort… admittedly a strange mix. He looks ready to tear down the world for someone he loves.  

“She did,” you confirm quietly.

Layla kept many secrets, something you struggled with at first but this wasn’t one of them. She told you the truth about Marc and the suit the first night you got together. Since then you’ve spoken often about him. So much so that in some ways, you feel like you know Marc as well as you know Layla.

“And you’re… ok with it? With me?” He asks.

“I am.”

Marc relaxes at your admission, bowing his head in a surprising show of vulnerability you hadn’t expected. His breath is ragged. You feel compelled to step forward, touching his shoulder.

“She searched for you for a long time but she always believed you would come back,” you tell him.  

While you don’t want to hurt Marc, you also want him to understand. You love Layla fiercely and you’ll protect her from anything, herself included. He looks up at you before glancing down the hall.

“All this really doesn’t bother you?” He asks.

“Why would it? Just because she loves you too that doesn’t mean she loves me any less.”

“It’s true,” Layla says, startling you both. Her hair and skin are still damp from the shower, a towel wrapped tightly around her body. She looks radiant and you feel a tug on your heart as she approaches the two of you. She links her fingers with yours.

“Go get a shower, we can talk after,” she promises Marc.

Once he’s gone she turns to you, cupping your face and rubbing her nose slowly against yours. “Are you ok with this?” She asks.

Your girlfriend’s expression is uncharacteristically vulnerable, reminding you when she admitted she would take Marc back if he returned. You hadn’t understood at first that she wanted both of you. She had a hungry heart, loving deeply and fiercely in a way you admired. In a way you envied. You agreed then and now, even though you have some concerns, you find you can’t deny you’re interested.

“I am.” She visibly relaxes. “But he seems sad… lost,” you add seriously.

“You’re good with damaged things,” Layla whispers, reaching for the tie on your robe. She tugs it free and pushes it off your shoulders, admiring the thin nightgown you wear underneath. You shudder when she drags her fingertips over the swell of your breast, nails catch on the delicate skin.

“You’re not broken,” you remind her meaningfully. “Did Marc explain why he left?”

“He did. It’s complicated,” she admits. You wait for her to continue but she doesn’t elaborate. You don’t push her to. Loving Layla meant trusting she’ll tell you things when she’s ready to. “I can find him somewhere else to stay if you want.”

“If you trust him that’s enough for me.”

Layla smiles, the sight helping you relax into her embrace and accept her lips on yours again. She groans, grasping your waist and walking you back towards the couch. You stumble and she follows you down onto the leather seat, straddling your thighs. She sheds her towel, revealing her beautiful body. It feels electric, her weight against you and the smell of her shampoo surrounding you. She shivers when you run your hands up and down her back. You trade soft kisses, reveling in the feel of the other, each touch adding to the building ache in your core.  

“What about Marc?” You question breathlessly. You can still hear the shower running but he won't be in there forever.

“If you want him to join us he can. If you don’t, we can take this to the bedroom,” she promises, holding your face in her hands. “I’m ok if we take this slow but either way I want you right now.”

“I want you too,” you admit, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth as you consider the man in the other room. You do want them both. The smart thing to do would be to stop and talk about everything but Layla’s always made you a little reckless. “Ok,” you agree, body trembling with anticipation.

She climbs off your lap to kneel between your thighs, flipping your short nightgown up, and urging you to scoot to the edge of the couch. She nuzzles your cunt and inhales deeply. Your eyes close at the first touch of her tongue, her fingers kneading your inner thigh. Layla knows your body better than you know it yourself. She uses her thumb to rub your clit while she fucks you with her tongue. The vibration of her soft moans has your back arching, fingers sliding into her hair. She is a giving lover, working you over with a gentle finesse that a man never could replicate. You gasp, chanting her name, hips rising off the couch and you hold her against you.

The floorboards creak and your eyes shoot open to find Marc standing in the hallway. He looks dangerous and alluring, expression half shadowed even as his eyes seem to glimmer in the dim light. He’s bare chested, one of your towels wrapped around low around his hips. You stare at one another until Layla draws your orgasm to the surface and your eyes flutter closed, your whole body going taut.

“Oh,” you breathe. Layla continues to lap at your core, drawing out your pleasure until you can’t take anymore and push weakly at her head. She stares up at you, rubbing your thighs and humming in satisfaction.

She glances over her shoulder at Marc and the two of them share a long, intimate look. Whatever he sees on her face has him stepping cautiously into the living room, glancing back at you. Layla rises, unashamed of her nudity and draws Marc in for a kiss. You see how she pushes her tongue in his mouth, sharing your taste with him. The sight makes you clench around nothing and heat spreads through your limbs when Marc groans.

“Do you want to taste it from the source?” She asks him, molding her chest to his back and resting her chin on his shoulder. You feel suddenly shy having both their attention on you and bring your knees together but stop with Layla clicks her tongue. “Let him see, habibti,” she encourages.

You swallow heavily and let your legs fall open.

“Beautiful,” Marc whispers, moving forward. He drops to his knees before you, his bulk forcing your legs further apart.  “Is this ok?” He asks, looking up at you.

You nod, shivering when he draws a thick finger through your folds, parting them to his intense gaze. His fingers are calloused and rough, so much bigger than Layla’s. Although you’re still sensitive from Layla’s mouth you can’t deny how good it feels to have him gently explore you. When his thumb drags over your clit you flinch, inhaling sharply. He does it again, watching you face contort with pleasure. The two fingers he slips inside meet no resistance.

Marc maintains eye contact as he dips down to taste you for the first time, flicking his tongue across your clit in time with the way his fingers drag in and out of you. The couch dips as Layla comes to sit beside you, reaching into your nightgown to cup your breast. She pinches and pulls your nipple until you’re arching off the couch and crying out. You share a kiss and she pushes her tongue in your mouth while you teeter on the edge of another orgasm. You’re nearly there when Layla pulls away and tells Marc to stop. He’s panting just as hard as you when he draws back.

“The bedroom,” Layla instructs, pulling you to stand and leaving Marc to follow. She strips you of your nightgown and urges you back onto the bed, climbing over you to settle on your stomach. You cup her hips, looking up at her curiously. You’re not exactly sure how this will go but you trust Layla.

“I want to watch Marc fuck you,” she whispers, bending down to kiss your neck. She nips at the skin there, causing you to groan quietly. “I’d like to see you two together,” she continues, dragging her lips along the shell of your ear.

“What about you two. Don’t you want to…”

“We already reintroduced ourselves,” Layla assures you.

The thought of them together makes your mouth grow dry and you rub your thighs together to relieve the pressure you feel in your core. You half wonder exactly how that would have gone because Marc doesn’t seem the type to give up control easily, though you know how good it can be under Layla soft instruction.

“I wanted tonight to be about the two of you getting acquainted,” Layla explains, “And if you’re not ready for that I know Marc would love to finish eating you out. Or just watch us.”

You look past her to Marc who stands in the doorway. He’s abandoned the towel, fisting his cock in his hand slowly as he watches the two of you. An encouraging smile is all it takes for him to stalk towards you. Layla settles herself next you on the bed, curled into your side. One hand disappears between her thighs, a tendon on her forearm flexing as she begins to touch herself while the other rests on your stomach.

Marc climbs on the bed, looking between Layla and you. “Should I get a condom?” He asks. “I’m clean but…”

You glance at Layla and she nods, encouragingly.

“I’m ok if you are,” you tell him, reaching up to touch his cheek. His eyes close at the contact, leaning into your palm. “I think we all trust each other here.”

Marc settles himself between your thighs and leans forward, hand resting beside your head. He leans down slowly, giving you time to react. You tilt your head up and meet his mouth. It’s soft, just the brush of your lips against his but after a moment his tongue urges your mouth open to taste you. Both of you groan as he takes control of the kiss and lowers his body to rest against yours. Even though the kiss turns harsher, more demanding, he surprises you by doing nothing more than kissing you for a few moments, fingertips caressing your neck and cheek.

When he pulls away you’re breathless, eyes wide. He smiles and shifts forward. You can feel his thick cock at your entrance. As he pushes inside you slowly, Layla grasps your chin and directs you to kiss her. She swallows down your soft cries as Marc enters you, your cunt fluttering in response to how full you feel.

“Fuck,” he gasps, eyes closing.

You tear your lips from Layla’s and grasp Marc’s forearms to arch your back, wanting more. “Oh, please,” you moan.

Marc draws back slowly only to thrust inside you again, building you up slowly as he chases his own pleasure. You’re overwhelmed by the rush of both emotions and physical sensations. You lift your hips, wanting him to reach deeper. He grunts, grasping your right leg and hitching it up. Pleasure skitters along every nerve and you tilt your chin back, reveling in the feel of his lips on your throat.

Beside you Layla gasps, making that beautiful sound you’re intimately familiar with as she gets closer and closer to her own orgasm. You watch through your lashes as she fucks herself furiously with her fingers, her own attention focused on where you and Marc are joined together. One hand cups her breast, plucking her own nipple. Suddenly she stills, back arching off the bed and she comes with a beautiful cry that intensifies your own pleasure.

“Want you to come too,” Marc whispers, flexing his fingers against your hip. You turn your attention back to him, staring into his deep brown eyes. He hitches your leg higher on his hip and increases his rhythm into faster, deeper strokes that have you clenching around him. “Touch yourself,” he commands.

You do as he asks, slipping a hand between your bodies to find your clit. It’s sensitive and swollen, you don’t need to do much to push yourself over the edge with the way Marc is fucking you. Your orgasm rolls up from your stomach, spreading across your chest and then down through your limbs, everything white hot and tingling.

“That’s it, that’s it,” Marc chants, voice going hoarse. His strokes lengthen until he finally stops, buried deep inside you. He looks almost pained, his eyes closed and his face a primal mask of pleasure. You both come down together, breathing evening out but your own heart still races in your chest.

“I could get used to watching this,” Layla comments. “Maybe next time I’ll sit on that pretty face though,” she says, tracing your lips with her finger.

The idea makes you clench around Marc who groans and shifts forward. He drops his body against yours but is careful to keep his weight on his forearms to not crush you.

“You’re fucking insatiable,” Marc says affectionately.  

“Good thing there’s two of us now,” you tell him, resting your hand on his bicep. Marc’s gaze turns back to you, his expression soft. He brushes the back of his hand over your cheek and smiles.

Layla hums happily beside you, leaning forward to kiss you and then Marc. “Stay here,” she says, rising from the bed and heading towards the bathroom.

Marc pulls back, easing out of you with a sharp breath. He settles himself beside you as Layla emerges with two washcloths. She hands one to Marc and eyes you considerably, tongue running along her bottom lip as she stares between your thighs. You can feel Marc’s spend leaking out of you and know it’s what has her so mesmerized. She climbs on the bed and dips a finger in the mess, her touch making you jump. She sucks her fingers clean and sighs.

“I think you need a rest but next time I’ll clean you up,” she promises, gently dragging the washcloth through your folds. When she’s done, she climbs between you and Marc, urging you to curl up beside her. Marc settles behind her and after a moment you feel his hand settle on your hip, his thumb stroking your skin.

Tomorrow you’ll have to figure out how this will work but for now you close your eyes, exhausted and content. What matters is Layla is home safe...and so is Marc.

#layla el-faouly x reader x marc spector #marc spector x female reader #layla el-faouly x reader #Marc Spector x Reader #Marc Spector x you #layla el faouly x you #layla el faouly x reader #layla el faouly x marc spector #layla el faouly x reader x marc spector #marc spector x reader x layla el faouly #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight

[jaesqueso]

You’re next

pairing: co-worker!xiaojun x female!reader (feat the rest of the lets play ball unit as other co-workers)

summary: You go to the middle of nowhere for a team building of a company you joined only a few weeks ago, but can there be other games involved?

for the Game of Survival collab by @neo-shitty​​ and the What Makes Us Sinners collab by @junjungsunwoo​

word count: 5,132

warnings: strong language, suggestive but no actual description of anything, death, blood, descriptive murders, mentions of Squid Game, inspired by the movie “You’re next”

a/n: ok so here it is, my first time trying this genre, I had a lot of fun writing it and it ended up turning out bigger than I thought but I hope it’s not too bad and all these years of watching horror movies paid off 😅 hope ya’ll enjoy it! ❤

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

Nervousness runs through your veins as you approach the door. You just hope you got the wrong place, who would plan a team building event in a house in the middle of nowhere, so outside of town? But recognising the familiar vehicles on the drive way you must be right.

Taking a last glance at yourself on your phone you take a deep breath before lifting your hand to ring the doorbell. You hear steps inside approaching the door until it opens.

“You came!” You’re greeted by the adorable Shotaro that engulfs you in a hug. “Come on in, everybody’s in the living room. Well, not everybody, we’re still missing Yangyang, but he should be arriving soon.”

“Thanks.” With a small smile you let him take your coat and follow him to meet the rest of the guys.

Breathing in and out slowly, you try to calm yourself down. You’ve joined the company just a few weeks ago and you’re still not very familiar with your team so you spent way too much time debating on wether to come or not. ‘Please come, it will be good to get to know the guys better!’, you remember Jungwoo saying and honestly it was just a few hours before you’re back in the comfort of your bed, and you’d make points with the others, even if it was way too intimidating to be the only woman in the team.

“Guys, Y/N is here!” Shotaro announces you and everybody warmly welcomes you.

“You can sit over here.” Xiaojun scoots over on the couch giving you some space next to him.

The air between you two is intense, since you joined the company he was the one that has been guiding you and you could feel the sexual tension from miles away. He’s an incredible attractive man, not that the others aren’t, but there’s something about him. And you could tell he wanted to jump on your pants just as must as you wanted him to, you just hope the others don’t notice.

“Yangyang just texted me, he’s late so he said we could start without him.” Doyoung announces and everybody agrees.

You start playing all sort of team games set to “bond and build team spirit encouraging the communication” or whatever bullshit taken straight out of one of the most cliché books on the subject. But at least you get to share some laughs and find out more about the guys and you honestly feel like you’re growing a little tiny bit close to them.

And then there’s this one game. In pairs you have to draw randomly assigned shapes on a piece of paper over the other person’s back and they try to guess what it is. And who did you get paired with? None other than your office crush.

Xiaojun sits down first and you try your best to stop your hands from shaking as you hold the paper over his back. The thin layer of his perfectly fitted dress shirt allows you to feel every single muscle and you gulp, mind already imagining the piece of clothing gone.

Like a mind reader, he guesses every single shape you trace placing you two right in front of the race. When it’s time to switch you’re nervous you might not be as good and end up lowering your score but his touch, apart from leaving your heart beating faster, goes straight into your brain and it’s like you can see the paper on your back. With a flawless score you win the activity leaving the others cheering yet jealous.

“How can you not get it right? These were basic shapes!” Doyoung slaps the back of Haechan’s head.

“It’s all your fault, you’re the one who doesn’t know how to draw!” Haechan bickers back.

“Sorry Mark, I tried my best…” Shotaro lowers his head.

“It’s ok, it’s just a game.” Mark rubs his back giving the other an encouraging smile.

“But wait, I think there’s a tie.” Jungwoo points out and everybody looks at the score chart where it seems like the other two teams are in fact tied.

“I demand a new round!” Haechan quickly gets up with his hand in the air.

“I think we should swap partners though.” Doyoung rolls his eyes.

“That’s not fair, guys.” Jungwoo calms the atmosphere in the room. “We’ll do another round, each pair chooses which one will draw. And I guess Y/N and Xiaojun can sit this one out, it’s a clear win for you. Everybody agrees?”

Looking around the room you see everybody nodding and after deciding the roles they all get ready to re-start.

“I’m gonna get some more snacks.” You get up and head to the kitchen as Jungwoo initiates the round.

-

While you’re opening some packs of snacks placing them in bowls you feel another presence in the room, right behind you.

“Need help?” The whispering voice against your ear makes you yelp, a few chips falling to the ground.

“Xiaojun, you scared me.” You place a hand on your chest trying to calm your racing heart.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to.” With a smirk on his lips he helps you clean the mess. “I didn’t know you were that good at these games.”

“I didn’t know you could draw.” You grin turning your head to him.

“What can I see, there’s a lot of things about me you don’t know about.” He steps closer but you don’t move.

“I guess there are, I mean, we haven’t known each other for that long.” Biting your lip, your eyes never leave his.

“True,” he steps even closer, trapping you against the counter, “but we sure do make a great pair.”

“I’ll have to agree to that.” Your gaze drops to his lips as his tongue swipes across them before he closes the distance between you.

The kiss is hungry and desperate like both of you have been waiting for this moment since you walked into the office on your first day and you laid eyes on each other. Hands start roaming over the clothes as the your lips move more intensely and you get lifted to sit on the counter.

But suddenly there’s a noise, like glass breaking.

“Did you hear that?” You push him slightly.

“I’m sure it was nothing.”

Xiaojun pulls you back to his lips and you try to ignore the noise and succumb into your desires but then you hear screams.

“Something’s happening, we need go check it out!” You push him further and get your feet on the floor, running back into the living room where the noises came from.

Cursing under his breath, Xiaojun follows you.

-

“Get down!” You hear someone yell as you get to the door and instantly follow through.

Looking around you can see the windows are broken and there are pieces of glass all over the floor. All your co-workers are hiding behind furniture, except one.

“What’s happening?” You ask Mark which was the closest one to you.

“I d-don’t know, we were j-just doing the game and s-suddenly arrows started coming through the w-window…” Mark stutters clearly terrified with the situation.

“Arrows?” You scrunch your eyebrows. “What the hell is going on? And why is Jungwoo just laying there?”

“Shit!” Mark curses as you all take a closer look noticing an arrow pierced straight across Jungwoo’s chest.

“Jungwoo!” Doyoung crawls to him trying to wake him up but it was too late.

“What the fuck?!” Mark joins the lifeless body unsure on what to do.

And then you see Shotaro sitting next to where Mark was, hands on his head, torso moving back and forward as he whisper “no” over and over again.

“It’s gonna be ok.” Crawling to him you grab your arms around Shotaro’s frame trying to calm him down. “Where’s Haechan?”

At the sound of his name, Haechan groans from a hidden corner. Mark hurries to him only to see an arrow pierced through his thigh.

“He’s hurt!” He shouts in panic.

“Keep your voice down!” Doyoung warns him. “They might still be out there.”

“Who the hell is doing this?” Mark tries to pull the arrow from Haechan’s leg but the younger just groans more.

“Why are they doing this to us?” Shotaro’s voice is small as he looks at you with watering eyes.

“I don’t know…” You bite your lip trying not to cry too. “Does anyone have their cellphones? We need to call the police!”

“No service.” Xiaojun speaks for the first time since you two got to the living room, after checking his and placing it back on his pocket. “ But I think there’s a phone in the hall. I’ll give it a try.”

“Did you see anyone outside?” You ask still trying to understand what’s happening.

“It’s dark already and there are no lights outside.” Doyoung explains still trying to figure out how to help Haechan.

“How’s idea was it to come to the middle of nowhere anyway?” Mark sounds desperate.

“I think it was-” Doyoung recalls but gets interrupted when Xiaojun comes back.

“Phone’s off, whoever’s doing this probably cut the line.”

“Fuck!” Haechan screams and Shotaro’s cries become louder.

“It’s gonna be ok.” You hold him tighter. “I’m taking him to one of the rooms until we figure this out.”

Wrapping one of Shotaro’s arms around your shoulders you carry him to an empty room and help him lay in bed.

“We’re getting out of this.” You hold his hand. “We’re going to find a way to call the police and they’ll come to rescue us in no time.”

“Promise?” His pleading eyes begging you to be right.

“Promise.” Without certainty you just hope you’re not lying. “I’m going back to see what we can do.”

“No!” He squeezes your hand tighter. “Don’t leave me alone, please!”

“It’s ok Shotaro, I’ll be right back. Lock the door behind me so nobody comes in and only open if it’s one of us.” Nodding reluctantly he lets you go.

Once you’re gone, he starts to get up, grabbing the key on the night stand, when he notices a silhouette behind the door. He squints his eyes trying to understand what it is but before he can say anything he feels the cold of a blade swiping across his throat. Blood squirts all over the room, his hands not enough to stagnate the bleeding and his voice is gone right before his life.

-

Back in the living room Mark’s nerves kept getting the best out of him.

“Fuck!” He shouts. “What are we going to do?!”

“Calm down!” Doyoung yells back, hands holding his cardigan around Haechan’s wound, the boy still groaning at the pain. “We just need to find things to defend ourselves and maybe wait until the morning to go seek for help.”

“Wait until the morning?” Mark snorts. “Fuck this, I’m gonna get the police myself.”

“Mark wait!” Doyoung calls but the boy is already grabbing his car keys and walking out the door.

“Where’s he going?” You ask having just arrived to the living room.

-

Outside Mark runs carefully to where all the vehicles are parked, looking for his until he notices a particular one.

“Is that Yangyang’s car?” He tilts he head walking closer but suddenly his eyes widen. “Wait, is he doing this shit?”

Upon closer look he notices there are some words written on the window in red.

“You’re next.” He reads. “What the hell does that mean?”

Mark reaches for the door, opening it surprised it was unlocked, but nothing could have prepared him for what he saw inside.

“Yangyang!?” His hands start shaking as he reaches for him, removing the jacket that was draped over the man’s torso. “Fuck!”

With a hand on his mouth he steps back from the vehicle after seeing Yangyang’s chest and stomach slashed, guts going past the skin. He keeps walking backwards, in shock with what he saw until he feels a hand on his shoulder. But instead of looking back he looks down to his stomach where the bloody blade of a sword shines against the moonlight.

The weapon slides back from where it came from and he falls on his knees, blood bursting through his mouth. The attacker’s foot pushes him all the way to the ground making Mark turn around to face him.

“Is this a joke!?” Mark’s last words before the sword pierces through his chest as the attacker finishes the job.

-

“We can’t just sit around and wait, we have to do something.” You mutter.

“Should we check on Mark?” Xiaojun questions. “It’s been a while since he went outside and we haven’t heard any car.”

“I think it’s too risky.” Doyoung comments. “If something happened to him we might be next.”

“We should find some weapons.” You look around the living room searching for things you can use.

“You’re right, maybe we should go into the kitchen and gets some knifes and other sharp objects.” Doyoung suggests.

“Yeah that makes sense.” You already make your way to the kitchen before you hear Haechan groan yet again.

“I can’t, I can’t!” He tells Doyoung who tries to help him up.

“Alright, you just wait here and we’ll be right back.” He puts him back down.

“But don’t leave me here alone!, I don’t want to die, please!” Haechan whines.

“I can stay here with him and you two can go get some weapons.” Xiaojun offers, already walking to the wounded boy.

“Let’s go then.” You tell Doyoung and you both leave the room.

Instantly you start checking every drawer and cabinets placing everything you can use over the counter. You can’t believe just moments ago there was a high chance you were going to get lucky right here and now you’re trying to find a way not to get killed.

“Was that door open when you came here earlier?” Doyoung asks noticing the exit to the backyard of the house was only partially closed.

“I don’t know… ” You tilt your head as you walk to it but stop when you see red marks on the floor. “Is this b-blood?”

“Damn it.” Doyoung follows the trail into the kitchen storage and carefully place his shaking hand on the knob slowly twisting it open.

You both scream when Mark’s lifeless body hits the floor, more and more blood spreading around the tile floor. In the wall behind where he was, the words “You’re next” are dripping in blood.

-

“What was that?” Haechan’s eyes widen and the muffled screaming sounds.

“I’ll go check it out.” Xiaojun starts to get up but Haechan grabs onto his arm.

“No, no, no! Don’t leave me here by myself!”

“What if they need help?” Xiaojun explains. “I’ll be right back.”

“Oh man, why do I have to go along with every work activity?” Haechan keeps whining as he holds onto to his leg being left alone in the living room.

-

“Is he d-dead?” Doyoung stutters and you finally see a trace of fragility when he has been the most rationally and put together so far.

“I think so…” You state the obvious before turning around. “We need to go back- Doyoung watch out!”

Pulling him to you, the sharp weapon on the attacker’s hand that was sneaking behind Doyoung barely misses his arm. As you two try to avoid getting hurt by the sword that swings in your direction, Doyoung ends up slipping on Marks blood when you’re able to go around the counter heading towards the door. The boy sees his life flash before his eyes having become an easy target for the masked killer.

The sword lifts into the air and Doyoung closes his eyes but then nothing happens. He re-opens them and sees the attacker’s body falling right by his side, butchers knife stuck on his skull.

“Shit…” You pant having saved Doyoung but killed someone else instead.

“Thank you so much, Y/N.” He quickly gets up and away from the killer.

“No worries.” You take a deep breath, calming your heart that’s filled with adrenaline. “What’s up with the Squid Game masks though?”

“I don’t know, but let’s find out who’d behind it.”

Doyoung scrunches down and reaches for the black mask with the square shape, removing it to reveal the attacker’s identity.

“Jaemin?” He gasps.

“You know that guy?” You ask in confusion.

“Yeah, he was in the team before you joined.” Doyoung stands back up still shocked with the reveal. “He and this other guy, Jeno, were apparently doing some shady work and ended up getting caught transferring company funds into this bank account they had under a false name.”

“Is this revenge then?” You wonder.

“Mostly likely, after all, it was me that exposed the case to management… But they didn’t know, they just knew it was someone on the team.” He lets out a heavy sigh. “I knew they were crazy, I just never knew they’d do something like this.”

“We need to tell the others. That Jeno guy is probably here somewhere too.” You suggest handing him the biggest knife on the counter. “Take that and go get Shotaro, he’s in the room next to the stairs. I’ll take what I can and go to the living room.”

“Ok.” He grabs the weapon and looks back when he reaches the door. “Be careful.”

“You too.”

-

“Get away from me!” You yelp startled by Haechan’s scream almost dropping everything on the floor.

“It’s just me.” Walking to him you start laying out what you brought on the floor.

“What took you so long?” He sighs in relief. “And what were those screams a while ago?”

“It’s Mark. He’s…” You can’t even say the others.

“No!” He cries.

“Haechan, where’s Xiaojun?” You suddenly remember. “Wasn’t he supposed to be here with you?”

“He went looking for you after you screamed, didn’t you see him?” He explains but you just shake your head. “Where’s Doyoung though?”

-

“Shotaro?” Doyoung knocks on the door where he believes he will find him but there’s no answer.

Reaching for the knob he opens the door only to see Shotaro sprawled over the bed in a pool of blood and the words “You’re next” written on the wall.

“Damn it, not you too…” Running his hands through his hair, Doyoung can’t help but feel like this is all his fault, if only he had kept his mouth shut.

-

“Doyoung!” You finally see him back in the living room but he comes alone. “Where’s Shotaro?”

“He…” His voice trembles and you can tell he no longer has strength in him to act strong. “He’s dead.”

“No!” Haechan groans both in pain from is leg and one more of his friends gone.

You remain silent, guilt taken over you. If only you hadn’t taken Shotaro to a different room and left him alone, maybe you’d have been able to save him, maybe he’s still be here with you, alive.

“Where’s Xiaojun?” Doyoung asks. “Don’t tell me he…”

“No!” You suddenly say. “Well, I hope not. Apparently he went looking for us but I didn’t see him, did you?”

“No. Should we look for him?” He suggest.

“Oh come guys don’t leave me here alone again!” Haechan whines.

“Here,” you pass him a couple of sharp knives you brought from the kitchen, “use this if someone comes in. But please don’t attack us.”

“Just…” He sighs. “Hurry back, please.”

“We will.” You promise and take two of the knives handing it to Doyoung, “Take one too.”

“Thanks. I’ll check upstairs and you search down here, ok?” He instructs and you nod. “If anything happens just scream and I’ll come running.”

“Same.” You two take a deep breath before silently going on your ways.

-

On the upper floor Doyoung glances inside every room, knife held high ready to stab anyone that crosses his path. Well everyone except the person he’s looking for. Suddenly he passes by an half open door and sees someone inside.

“Xiaojun?” He whispers grabbing the attention of the man inside.

“Oh, Doyoung.” He turns around with widen eyes. “What are you doing here? I thought you were with Y/N.”

“I was but then you disappeared so we came looking for you.“ He explains. ”Why do you have that?”

“This?” Xiaojun looks down at the black mask with a white circle. “I found this here.”

“That’s what they’re wearing, maybe they’ve been here.” Doyoung wonders.

“Who?”

“The killers. Me and Y/N ran into one in the kitchen, he came at me and she…” He gulps, hard for him to recall the situation. “She saved my life.”

“She killed him?” Xiaojun’s surprised you’d actually be capable of doing it.

“Yeah…” Doyoung sighs. “But you’ll never guess who it is. Jaemin. And we think Jeno might be on it too.”

“Our ex co-workers? The ones you got fired?” Xiaojun recalls.

“How’d you know?” Doyoung’s eyes go wide.

“You just told me.”  With a smirk Xiaojun continues. “Hey Doyoung, do you mind taking a step to your right?”

“Sure, but why?” He asks while moving to the side.

Xiaojun’s grin is the last thing Doyoung sees before feeling blood running down his face when an axe punctures through his skull. His body falls on the floor, face down, like a rug doll. The killer with a black mask and a white triangle steps his foot on Doyoung’s head as he removes the bloody weapon.

“So it was really him, huh?” Jeno says lifting up his mask. “Fucking dick, I knew it.”

“And now we know for sure.” Xiaojun adds. “Good thing I wasn’t caught as well.”

“Yeah lucky you.” Jeno rolls his eyes. “But now we got something more important to discuss.”

“What?” Xiaojun steps back as the other gets closer, tightening his grip around the axe.

“You said she’d cause no trouble, just an innocent girl. And now Jaemin’s dead.” Jeno speaks through clenched teeth.

“I had no idea that was going to happen.” Xiaojun shrugs. “Who knew that little bitch had it in her.”

“I know she’s supposed to be your witness to get out of this mess but you know there’s no way she’s coming out of here alive, right?” Jeno scoffs.

“Well, you could’ve at least gave me some time to have fun with her in the kitchen earlier, but you just couldn’t wait to start the Robin Wood feast could you?” Xiaojun roll his eyes. “Can you at least let me try to get some before you do it?”

“Is that all you think about?” Jeno tries hard not to shout. ”She killed my fucking best friend!”

“Jeno.” Xiaojun places his hand on the other’s shoulder with a grin. “Collateral damage. The deal’s still on, and now it’s all for you.”

“Collateral damage!? Who the fuck do you think you’re talking about-” Suddenly there’s a noise coming from the stairs. “That bitch dies now and who knows, maybe you’re next.”

Putting the mask back on his face, Jeno walks out the door searching for you.

“Yeah, no problem, I’ll take care of this.” Xiaojun rolls his eyes staring at the lifeless body on the floor. “You’re welcome!”

-

After searching the ground floor without any success you wonder if you should go up and find Doyoung. Taking the first step it makes a cracking noise that echos all around the silent house so you hesitate to take more. While you’re pondering you hear someone approach the stairs.

“Doyoung?” You ask but when the figure turns the corner you recognise the outfit. “Shit!”

Jeno comes running down the stairs as you head to the kitchen and out the back door. He follows you closely, axe in hand and a mad thirst for your blood. Once outside you have no idea where to go so you just run and run until you find yourself in the woods. You can’t exactly see where you’re going but you know he’s right behind you so you know you just can’t stop running.

But since you can’t see the floor you also don’t see the aerial roots of a tree that you can’t avoid tripping onto and fall on the ground. You try to get up and back away but Jeno quickly hovers you and you can almost see the smile behind the mask. Your hands roam on your side trying to find something to save yourself as he straddles your lap lifting up the axe.

“Good girls should know to stay quiet and not get on big man’s business.” He laughs but then stops as he sees a grin grow on your face. “What’s so funny?”

“You.” Grabbing the rock you found on the floor you swing it against his head with all the strength in you, making his body fall to your side. “Well, big men should know to stay out of good girl’s business.”

-

“Step back!” Haechan screams ready to throw a knife at the person that entered the living room.

“It’s ok, it’s me.” Xiaojun calmly says lifting up his mask.

“You guys need to stop scaring me like this!” Pressing a hand on his chest, Haechan sighs in relief. “Why are you dressed like that? Don’t you know that’s what the attackers are wearing?”

“You know,” Xiaojun shrugs as he walks to the other, “just trying to blend in.”

“Well you should take it off, Y/N and Doyoung might accidentally hurt you.” Haechan advises dropping his weapon. “Where are they by the way.”

“Oh, they’re gone, Haechan.” Xiaojun gets on his knees next to his colleague.

“What!?” Haechan cries. “No, that can’t be true!”

“But it is.” Xiaojun grabs the knife the other was previously holding, running his finger through the blade. “I guess it’s just you and me now. Who do you think is next?”

“Next to what? What are you talking about, Xiaojun?” Haechan doesn’t know what’s happening but his body knows it’s time to be scared.

“Wrong answer, Haechan.” Xiaojun lowers he lips to the other’s ear and whispers. “The right answer is you.”

Haechan gasps as he feels the cold blade slowly and painfully enter his stomach. Xiaojun twists the knife around making sure to destroy his insides and make more and more blood come out of him. Haechan is quick to take his last breath, already weak from his first injury that has been bleeding for hours.

Getting up, Xiaojun gathers some blood on his fingers and starts writing the famous words on the wall: “You’re next”. But then he senses someone in the room. Before turning around he slowly lowers his mask to cover his face.

“Oh it’s you.” He lets out a relieved breath as he recognises the Squid Game outfit with the triangle shape on the mask. “Did you finish her? This one is gone too so there’s no one left and we can just end this.”

The other person stays quiet but Xiaojun is too much inside his plan to even notice, throwing his mask on the floor and continuing his rambling while he finishes the message on the wall.

“So you made me lose my witness but we can still make this work. They’ll just have to believe my story of the ‘bad men that came and killed all my friends so I had to pretend I was dead to save my life’ or whatever.” Xiaojun laughs thinking he’s a genius for this plan. “So it will take me a while to go back into the office, you know, emotional damage and what not. But I’ll say two weeks until they offer me that promotion because, well, there’s literally no one else. Then in no time I’ll be in the management board and get you back in so we can finish what we started.”

“So that’s why you did it?” Xiaojun stops in surprise as he expected to hear Jeno’s voice behind the mask. “All for a fucking promotion?”

“Y/N, it’s not what it looks like.” He turns around with his bloody hands in the air as he sees the axe Jeno had earlier on your hands. “Just let me explain.”

“You just explained everything, Xiaojun.” You remove your mask to reveal Jeno’s blood all over your face. “I had no idea you could do something like this. And you were in on their money scheme too? I guess a few weeks is definitely not enough to get to know someone. You’re insane.”

“Am I? That was not your opinion earlier when your legs wrapped around my waist, begging me to fuck your brains out.” He smirks. “C’mon baby, with those two idiots out of the picture you can be my new ally. Like I said before, we do make a great pair. In just a year we can be swimming in money on paradise island in the pacific ocean. What do you say?”

“I say fuck you, Xiaojun.” You swing the axe his way but he smoothly avoids it.

You chase him around the living room trying to hit him with the axe until he gets a hold of a bigger knife and starts attacking back. Somehow he’s able to get a hold of your wrists and knocks your weapon off your hand but your don’t give up pushing him onto the floor as you hold his knife away from you.

An intense battle as your bodies rolls on the floor suddenly stops when you hear skin being pierced with a blade. Blood starts coming out of his mouth as he looks down and see you were able to flip the weapon and stab him with it.

Rolling your bodies once more, you straddle his lap, removing the knife from his hands and holding it in the air. You take a deep breath as you watch his bushed face. Only know you notice the sun is rising as the light from outside shines illuminates his bloody features.

“Tell me, Xiaojun, was it worth it?” You ask for his final words. “Betraying all your colleagues for a few bucks?”

“I’d do it all over again.” Xiaojun has the audacity to speak with a smirk that makes the anger boil in your veins.

With a scream you lower the knife straight into his heart, finally ending the nightmare. But before you can celebrate the fact that you managed to survive this crazy night someone bursts through the front door.

“Police! Drop your weapon and step away from the body with hands in the air!”

Before you turn around and claim your innocence, you look down and realise you’re the one wearing the killers clothing with a knife in your hand and you’re pretty sure they saw you kill your colleague, how are they going to believe you?

Fuck.

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

taglist: @yokshi-unbeliebubble​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @nc-teen​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @yutahoes​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @dimplehyunn​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @iknowyuno​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @bebskyy​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @ne0cultur3technology​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @nurenciye​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @luvjeongjaehyun​​​​​​​​​​

unable to tag: @chenleyang @doahflix @criminalmindsz

#cznnet #nctcreations #xiaojun angst #nct angst #wayv angst #xiaojun horror #nct horror #wayv horror #haechan angst #haechan horror #jeno angst #jeno horror #doyoung angst #doyoung horror #shotaro angst #shotaro horror #jaemin angst #jaemin horror #mark angst #mark horror #yangyang angst #yangyang horror #jungwoo angst #jungwoo horror #nct 127 angst #nct 127 horror #nct dream angst #nct dream horror

[thatchubbypillow]

Reminiscence (that I should've written 2 years ago) about meeting Dan Stevens in person and a heart-warming anecdote :)

OK, I don't know why do I suddenly want to write about this now. Not a special day, not a special occasion, I just remembered that I have never really written a detailed "journal" about this and I don't want this memory to become very blurry over time, so yeah, out of the blue I'm writing this, after more than 2 years. I did post my photo with him on some social medias, but I only wrote like less than 100 words (and 60 of them are about the play not about him lol). And I didn't post anything anywhere about what happened after I met him, so I…I kinda want to share it now. Also, English is not my first language, so forgive me if some words were used incorrectly 😅

Reading the title, I bet you guys already knew that I was talking about Hangmen on broadway. The play closed because of covid, after only two weeks of performance, which was…very unfortunate (the play reopened later but with different actor). But lucky me bought a ticket for a very early date (Mar 02), so I had the opportunity to meet him at the stage door. I did have some experience in meeting actors on broadway (I met Josh Groban for a few times), so I had a rough idea about what's gonna happen…I was less nervous than first-timers, I guess.

Before watching the show, I was a big fan of Legion. His performance really impressed me a lot so I also watched some other works of him, but I liked his appearances/costumes(?)(basically his looks) in Legion and Night at the Museum 3 the most (at that time). Then…I liked drawing sketches of people (though I wasn't very good at it…), so I decided to draw a brief sketch of the still from Legion and another one from NATM3, and planned to give them to him as a gift. And…I don't remember what I was thinking at that time, but I wrote a short letter on a greeting card, about how much I loved his performance in those shows/movies etcetc…then I added my instagram username at the sign-off (this was quite inappropriate…I won't ever do that again but 2 years ago I was just overly excited and immature I guess). So I put them in a gift box and carried it to the show.

During the whole performance all I did was looking at him (I brought a binoculars and my sight just followed him and only him lol), well, I tried to understand the plot but the unusual British accent (it's not the "common" British accent you could see in some tv shows) just drove me insane so I gave up in following the plot halfway (sorry!). When waiting at the stage door I was extremely nervous because there is a high possibility that some actors would choose to leave through another exit and not to do the signing when they had other things to deal with (that happened a few time to me, not only on broadway, but also in Met Opera), and normally the staff would tell the audience whether an actor will appear at the stage door or not, but sometimes they won't. So it largely depends on my luck.

Therefore when I saw him showing up at the door, my first reaction was "thank God…", rather than being starstruck. Then after a few seconds of telling myself "OK, this is happening, this is real, he is actually here" I just started to observe how he's signing other people's playbill and how he talked with people, and of course, how absolutely ANGELIC he looked. What really amazed me was how conflicted I felt: yes, he was breathtakingly GORGEOUS for sure, but on the other hand his "aura" was surprisingly down-to-earth and genial, like he's just an ordinary human being rather than a movie star. And in these brief moments when he's signing and chatting with fans, he always had a very genuine smile on his face. It's not my first time meeting celebrities, I would know it if they're just faking. (Well, it's possible that he's just very very good at it, but I don't care lol).

There weren't that many people at the stage door, I would say maybe 50? 70? I'm bad at estimating those so don't trust me. And the security divided the crowd into two groups, one on the left side of the door and one on the right. He started from the right side, and I thought he's gonna come to the left side later, but he didn't!!! (Maybe he's in a hurry? I had no idea) I saw that he seemed to be leaving and I was like NOOOO I'M NOT GIVING UP ON THIS so I exited the crowd and ran. Fortunately he didn't leave yet, he was talking with another audience (away from the crowd tho). So I waited for a few moments for them to finish the convo, then went in front of him, trying my best not to lose consciousness or my verbal communication ability (I'm not exaggerating!)

I supposed that he might be in a hurry so I spoke in the fastest way I could, about how amazing he was in this play (well, of course I won't tell him I didn't understand the plot at all lmao), and the gift I was giving him, he seemed to be quite surprised about it, I don't remember what exactly he said but I do remember him saying "Oh God" and a lot of "Thank you" (what's funny was that the way he said "Oh God" was quite similar to how he said the same thing in an interview about The Guest, when the host asked him to create an online dating profile for David lol), his soft voice and British accent (the one I was more familiar with, instead of the one in the play) just MELTED MY HEART 😭 good lord…I mean I watched quite a few interviews of him online and listened to some audiobooks too but in real life, from such close distance, it was totally different. Like, I mentioned earlier that I met Josh Groban a few times and I really loved his singing voice, but his speaking voice was rather normal, if compared to Dan's. Dan's voice was simply mesmerizing, like, his audiobooks are already charming enough but every time I recall the moment when he talked to me I just feel my whole being weakened (I'm not exaggerating!) (maybe I'm in too deep 😥)

Then, another thing that I could remember was, he was apparently taller than me. I was around 5'9-5'10, already taller than most of my friends, so it feels good meeting someone whom I had to raise my head a little bit to look at (and who was also unbelievably good-looking). The only thing that still saddens me is that I was too nervous or too afraid to look straightly into his eyes when talking with him. I probably caught a few glimpse at first, but currently I don't have very detailed memory of his facial expressions. Finally I asked him if I could take a photo with him and he gladly agreed. But I was so nervous at that moment that the angle of the lighting was absolutely terrible, I've tried using some editing app to improve it but they didn't really work 😣 Here is the photo…if anyone still wanted to see it lol.

On my way back home I just couldn't stop replaying the conversation in my head over and over again while smiling like an idiot, it was like a dream. I remember in Black Mirror there was an episode where the protagonist could store his memories as videos which he could review, gosh I wish I had something like that. After the show I didn't think too much and just went on living my ordinary life, even though I included that letter/greeting card, I don't remember writing stuff like "looking forward to your reply" or something, and even if I did, he is an international movie star and he has no obligation to respond to some random fans, so I tried to keep myself busy and not taking it too seriously. But after two days…

It happened. It really happened. I had to pinch myself and do the silliest reality check to make sure I wasn't dreaming. The first thing I did was taking a screenshot, so I won't click the wrong button and accidentally delete the message with no way to prove that I actually got his reply. Then I started to rack my brain to decide what should I write back, without sounding like a desperately infatuated fangirl, but I failed and still sounded like a crazy fangirl (so I prefer to hide my reply in this screenshot lol).

To be honest, it crossed my mind that there was a possibility that it might not be himself who sent the message, it could be his assistant or someone else (I heard that many celebs don't run their social medias by themselves, idk if that's the case here), but I'm still extremely happy. The smiling emoji made me feel like it's really him. If it really was him…gosh, how could a man be so perfect??? Possessing such unrivaled beauty while being THIS KINDHEARTED??? Jesus…

Anyways…that's my memory, I'm sorry that I unconsciously wrote sooooo long (1600 words, MS Office said…), but I hope that you enjoyed reading it 😊 Even though I now realized I only love him as an actor and his roles, not exactly himself, if I could get another chance to meet him, I would still do it. Because knowing that such angelic-looking human being really exists, always made me regain some hope for humanity. (Just kidding XD)

#dan stevens #reminiscence #starstruck #celebrity #actor #british #broadway #wholesome moments

[camellia-salazar]

Some Moral Orel doodles because I'm obsessed with this show now.

The first page of this doodle post is Moral Orel randomness for the most part. Just trying to draw some characters just to see how it goes. Also I drew on the page a week ago.

I first drew 4 year old Orel because I wanted to after watching Trust. He was so pure! 😊💖

I was trying to see what kind of dynamic Orel and his brothers can have and I thought "brother band". AJR probably helped with that (I probably was listening to Bud Like You while drawing this or something I don't remember it was a week ago).

Comparison of Clay before he married Bloberta and afterwards. Idk I just thought about it and drew.

Speaking of Bloberta, I watched an animatic of her and decided to doodle a fan doodle of it.

Danielle, Nurse Bendy, and Joe were drawn since I wanted to get use to drawing them. Also because uncle, mom, and son.

Raymond because I wanted to and he seems good, or ok at least. Better than Clay with alcohol but not really focused on enough for character. Still I kinda like him.

Snakey Fakey since there's a lot of talk about Wolf Clay but not a lot of talk (that I know of) about how Principal Fakey is a scummy snake.

Finally Wolf Clay because many fans have drawn him so I wanted to. That and because I love wolves.

The second page has a few more furry stuff since I thought more on the Clay Wolf thing.

Orel fits more on the role of the "loyal and kind" thing so I gave him puppy ears. He seems like the kinder Clay (dogs being kinder than wolves thing).

Shapey and Block hugging like Bluey and Winnie in the episode Cafe.

Bloberta. Wish I could think of drawing something more with her. But I can't think of any ideas for her.

Basically the aftermath of Orel's Movie Premiere where Clay gives Orel the talk about furries.

Inspired by a Bluey episode called Onesies, it's Orel wearing a Zebra onesie and Shapey wearing a Cheetah one.

The last doodle is basically more brother bonding but this time I've included a bit of the theme song for the DHMIS TV show. I was listening to the theme when I was drawing them so I thought I should include the lyrics.

Hope you like the Moral Orel doodles. I thought I should just make doodles for this show only for once (and like I said, I'm basically obsessed with it now). Also thanks for reading this if you did. 👍✨

#Moral Orel #doodles #Orel Puppington #block posabule #shapey puppington #clay puppington #bloberta puppington #danielle stopframe #nurse bendy #joe secondopinionson #raymond hymentact #principal fakey #reverend putty #rod putty #furries #Kemonomimi #bluey #bluey references #dhmis #dhmis references #a bit of ajr #fan doodles #multifandom? #i dont think so but i guess it is a little #idk what else to say but i usually fill up the tags to the tags limit #so.. #meh

[ejzah]

Can you do a fanfic where the team sees Deeks's life outside of NCIS. They get to see a whole new side to him and that makes Kensi more attracted to him, deeping her feelings and everyone else notice. Also can you include Neric. I miss them.

A/N: Hi anon! I think we all miss Neric a bit. I set this in seasons 3-4, the best seasons for burgeoning Densi feelings.

***

Admiration

It was a perfect day for surfing for a charity surfing event, Kensi thought as she walked between Sam and Callen, carrying her surfboard under one arm. Nell and Eric trailed behind a bit, and when she looked over her shoulder, she saw they were deep in conversation.

Nell had elected to forego surfing in favor of helping out with the refreshment stand. She wore a long, flowy sundress with a pattern of blue flowers which just touched the sand and made Nell resemble some kind of water fairy. Eric didn’t look all that different from usual, if slightly more colorful in his flamingo board shorts.

Shielding her eyes, Kensi saw Deeks several yards ahead, easily recognizable in a bright white t-shirt and light blue shorts. It looked like he was giving out instructions to several other volunteers. Last week, he’d convinced them all to help out at the bimonthly surf class for veterans he co-ran. Although there’d been a fair amount of grumbling from some of them, no one had skipped out, given the target population.

Deeks fist-bumped everyone, shouting something that drifted away with the breeze, and then jogged over to them. His hair, tousled and blonder than ever, practically gleamed in the sun. He looked as happy as Kensi had ever seen him, completely in his element. And possibly like the lead of a made-for-TV surfing movie.

“Hey, I’m glad you guys made it,” he said, drawing to a stop in front of them.

“It’s not exactly like we could forget,” Kensi commented wryly. “You only talked about if for the last two weeks.”

“Well, this is usually one of the weeks when we have the highest turnout,” Deeks explained. “So I wanted to make sure we had enough volunteers to go around.”

“It’s amazing that you organized all this” Eric said, gesturing to the forty or so people gathered around.

“Well, I can’t take full credit. That honor goes to Lesley and Anthony over there.” Deeks nodded to two people in tie dye shirts under a small tent.

He looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable by the compliment, which intrigued Kensi. He nodded to Sam with a slight grin. “Are you sure you want to wear long sleeves? It’s going to get awfully hot out there.”

“I’ve been surfing before, Deeks. I’ll be fine,” Sam said shortly, pointing at Callen as he started to chuckle. “Not a word out of you.”

“None of the rash guards he tried on fit,” Callen informed them, not at all cowed by Sam’s glare.

“Oh, you think that’s funny? Remember who drove you here. Again. And this time I will make you fend for yourself.”

“Ok, boys, how about we leave the bickering until later,” Kensi interrupted. “Deeks, where do you want us?”

“Uh, go check in with guy over there with the clipboard and he’ll assign you to a group,” Deeks said, now pointing to a thin man with his wetsuit peeled down to his waist. “Nell, you sure you don’t want to borrow a suit and board? We rented some extras.

“Definitely not,” she answered firmly. “Eric took me surfing a few months ago and it did not end well.”

“No, it did not,” Eric agreed, earning a slight glare from Nell. “I mean it wasn’t that bad at all. For a first time.”

“C’mon, I’ll get you set up at the snack bar.” Nell and Eric followed after Deeks, leaving the rest of them on their own.

Kensi watched Deeks out of the corner of her eye, while they made their way over to the man Deeks had pointed out.

As he talked, he stripped of his shirt, and started tugging on his wetsuit. Kensi’s stomach dipped a little at the wealth of golden skin displayed, shining like his hair underneath the sun.

“Careful, you’re staring, Kens,” Callen teased and she immediately jerked her head around, almost stumbling over an abandoned sand pail.

“I was not. I just…wanted to make sure that Nell and Eric got set up ok,” she insisted.

“It’s ok,” Sam said. “We know how much you love it when his hair is all fluffy like that.” Kensi spun, jabbing her finger between them.

“If you even think of saying anything to-”

“Oh, don’t worry. We won’t tell Deeks.” Sam paused a beat. “But we’ll definitely tease you about it later.”

“Mercilessly.”

Fortunately, they’d reached their destination so she didn’t have to face anymore ribbing, at least for the moment. There were three people in front of them receiving their assignments.

The man in charge was bronzed even darker than Deeks’, and he spoke in short rushes of speech, constantly flipping a pen between his fingers or tapping it against the clipboard in his hand. There was a nervous, restless kind of energy about him.

“I’m James. Are you guys Kensi, Sam, and Callen?” he asked unexpectedly after the other group had walked away.

“Yeah, how’d you know?” Callen said, eyeing him with mild suspicion.

“Deeks described you perfectly.”

“I bet he did,” Sam muttered under his breath. “So, what do you need us to do?”

“Uh, Kensi and Sam you’re with group B, Callen you’ll be with group C,” he explained. He glanced up every so often, but rarely made eye contact. “There’ll be a more experienced volunteer to guide you. Just remember that you’re here to support the vets in your group, but you’re not acting like a therapist or diagnosing them. You listen, you talk if they want, don’t push if they don’t. And if you have legitimate concerns about anyone, you can let me or Deeks know.”

“Sounds like you know your way around,” Sam commented as he accepted a tag with his name and volunteer listed on the white space.

“Been helping out for about two years,” James confirmed with a jerky nod and a half-shrug. “Before that I just attended. Funny thing is, I didn’t even want to at first, but Deeks wore me down.”

“He’s good at that,” Kensi said. “It’s why we’re here.”

James shook his head more emphatically, losing some of his agitation. “He’s a good man.”

“We know that,” Callen assured him. James didn’t look too convinced.

“When I first met Deeks, I was a mess. I didn’t even realize how much help I needed, but Deeks was always there for me to talk, with advice, sometimes just to make sure I didn’t hurt myself. There was one week were he even let me crash in his extra room when I was homeless.”

His gaze wandered across the beach where Deeks was talking with another man, hand resting on his shoulder in a way that was clearly supportive.

“He’s a good man,” he repeated more emphatically. The admiration in his voice was obvious.

“He is,” Kensi agreed softly.

She found herself watching Deeks again as they headed back to find their groups, though this time she was focused on his behavior. Several people had stopped him to talk, and he took the time with each of them. Maybe he wasn’t in charge of the event, but he certainly was popular and well-liked.

People were starting to head out into the water. She saw Deeks stop by the refreshment stand and made a snap decision.

“Hey, I have to ask Deeks something,” she told Sam, touching his arm in passing. “I’ll catch up with you in a minute.”

“I can totally manage on my own,” Nell was saying, waving Eric and Deeks towards the water. “Don’t worry about me Eric.”

“If you’re sure,” Eric said, clearly torn between his desire to stay with Nell and get out on his board.

“I will be fine.” She gave Eric a fond look, taking him lightly by the shoulders, and all but pushing him towards the shore. They stumbled along, giggling when Nell nearly fell over, Eric catching her just in time.

“You should be proud,” Kensi said, coming up beside him. “You’re making a real change in these people’s lives.”

He sighed, giving Kensi a backwards glance. “You’ve been talking to James.”

“I’m glad he told us. I didn’t realize what you’ve been doing for these guys.” She touched his shoulder, letting her fingers linger on his warm skin for a few moments. “I’m sorry I didn’t take you more seriously when you asked us to come.”

“It’s ok,” he said with a shrug. “You’re here now.” He dipped his head, a smile twitching at his lips.

“Yes, I am,” Kensi echoed softly. He offered his hand and she took it after a second, letting him lead her towards the water.

***

A/N: I don’t know how realistic this scenario is, but I dislike reality increasingly.

Thanks for the prompt!

#ncis la fanfiction #marty deeks #kensi blye #pre densi #Sam and Callen #Eric and Nell #surfer Deeks #anonymous prompt #ejzah fanfiction

[harringrovsonsworld]

Its Alright, its ok

Yo i finally finished my vampire Eddie thing!

Its Alright Its Ok (1680 words) by Harringrovesonsworld

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Characters: Eddie Munson, Henry Creel | One | Vecna, Victor Creel, Nancy Wheeler, Martin Brenner

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Alternate Universe, henry and vecna as two different people, Vampire Eddie Munson, Post Season 4, Pre Season 5, Blood and Injury, Blood Drinking, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Past Abuse, Starvation, Canon-Typical Violence

Summary:

so i have this au thing were vecna pulls an alessa from silent hill, splits himself into two parts. one is vecna as we know him and the other is henry, more akin to the person he was pretending to be as peter in hawkins lab. Vecna consideres 'henry' his weakness, the parts that have caused him to fail in the past. "why not just get rid of him then" i hear you ask. well SOMEONE has to feed vecnas new pet vampire.

platonic Eddie/henry, brief mentions of violence and referenced child abuse.

Long post under the cut

“Its ok” 

His voice is pitched, measured and calm. Tone flat but light . Practised over decades. Back then, someone had to keep the kids calm during experiments and it was never going to be Brenner. You could only talk so much to kids who had never seen real grass before it stopped making sense. When that failed: placate, resonate, soothe. The calmer they were, the quicker it was over and they could all get on with their miserable lives. He breathes out slowly “ take all the time you need.” He grits his teeth. Placid voice hides the fear. His breath hitches in his chest as the other swallows thickly. Its agony, simply put . Like two hot sewing needles worked through the thick of his neck. Fledgling fangs, that a week ago could hardly pierced the foil of a yoghurt top. “I'm sorry.” The other sobs, tears mixing with spilled blood “I'm so sorry” Brown eyes grow darker and more empty every day, but the tears that flow from them are still painfully human. He wants to move, run his hand down the others back, if for no other reason than to stop the hideous noise that rattles from Eddie's chest when he weeps. But fleshy vines have wrapped themselves around his limbs, pinned him to the pipework deep under the creel house. Writhing and moving of their own accord they pulse with the beat of his heart, itching under his skin. There's a little wiggle room, but Eddie’s weight in his lap is enough to keep him pinned.

Hands ball up the back of his dirty white shirt, tiny claws scratching along his ribs are not yet hard enough to draw blood. “I'm sorry…i cant..i cant stop…i need more” Eddie breathes along his neck, moving to the other side before sinking his teeth back in and pulling another gulp. He hisses; the wounds from last week haven't fully healed , still raw and tender as Eddie suckles on the sensitive flesh.  He’s getting dizzy at this point, unsure if he should be grateful or concerned. He can't blame Eddie for his lack of control. He too knows the pain of starvation . Back before the soteria, it was one of Brenners favourite punishments “Dinner is a privilege” he would mutter, locking his cell door tight. “Not a right.” Henry winces, ripped from memory  as Eddie's fangs burrow deeper than before. It's been days since last Eddie fed, maybe weeks since he had real food and not just a few mouthfuls of malnourished blood. The other creature in the room watches them unblinking, fascinated. 

Their eyes meet and flicker apart just as quickly. It's like looking in a mirror, he supposes. If the mirror was covered in offel and left in the rain to rust for a few years. His other self looks decrepit, for want of a better word. He could just as easily be describing roadkill, as the thing in front of him. The girl, Nancy, he thinks she's called, she and her friends did a real number on him. He remembers the anger, the fear, disgust at weakness as he lay bleeding on the ground in front of the place he once called home. 

But it all seems so detached, like watching his life through someone else's eyes, a recording on tv or something, a voice over the radio. The next he knows, there are two of them; staring side by side on dirty ground at his own face, distorted in anger. Except it isn't him, not entirely. After the assault ‘Henry’, the one eddie called ‘vecna’ cut a swath of destruction through the upside down, in what can only be described as a childish tantrum. If you could make God bleed, people would cease to believe in him. So he decided to change it, he would make them believe again. 

All his pain, all his rage, every negative emotion he’d used to sustain himself over the years, Vecna concentrated until it had a mind of its own, struck out and left the rest behind. All that was left was Henry. Henry the outcast, the orderly, the lab rat, the discarded remains of a greater being. The one tied to the wall with a nestling vampire using him as a human juice pouch. Vecna’s Humanity, the shreds he had left collected up and bundled into not-quite-a-person .He supposes then this basement must be the proverbial junk drawer of Vecna's mind and him the funny plug that doesn't fit anywhere. He's someone to hang onto  in case those trifling human feelings ever become useful again. No rage, no hate, no lust for destruction or even the weakest of Vecna’s powers . Just a sense of emptiness and feelings that don't belong to him.  Henry struggles to make sense of these memories; they're his and he knows it but…it’s less like a movie of one's life and more like a photo album that has been dropped on the floor and it's his job to put everything back in its place. Henry feels nothing for Nancy, except maybe a twinge of pity knowing what his other self has planned. 

He realises he's been holding his breath. A sharp nip from eddie brings him back to reality. Henry’s eyes flutter as Eddie takes another gulp, the world growing a little dark at the edge of his vision. “That's enough.” Vecna's coarse voice sets his nerves on edge. Eddie gasps as he's snatched away, hands plucking Henry's shirt  as he goes, a feeble whimper on his lips. The young undead is tossed to the ground, groaning in pain and curling in on himself as  he skids across the concrete floor. Barely a second passes before cold replaces eddies close warmth. Henry nearly sobs in relief and shudders at the loss of heat. 

Eddie coughs wetly, pathetically weak. The blood running down his chin matches the rivulets that spill free from Henry's puncture wounds , soaking into his stained shirt collar. Eddie wheezes, coughs and rasps on blood. Choking, his healing lungs still struggling with the toxic air of the upside down. Henry watches with morbid fascination as exposed muscle contracts and spasms around Eddie's lean frame. Vecna rises from his spot by the door, languid and measured, “Are you satisfied?” The deep tremor of his voice rattles the pipework, floorboards groaning under the vibrations. Eddie flinches as Vecna comes to a rest by his side, murmuring inaudibly into the crook of his arm.

“Answer me” Eddie’s still coughing. If it weren't for all the red, Henry swore the metal head  was starting to turn blue. Vecna kicks out, landing a hit right to Eddie's tender side. The sound Eddie makes isn't entirely human. But then again, nothing down here is anymore. He sobs quietly into the sleeve of his jacket, determined not to let anyone see how scared he is.   

Something about this scene is making Henry's heart race and his mind reel. Victor standing over him, why can't you just be normal? Henry never cried, perhaps that was the problem. Next it's Brenner, why can't you just behave, do as I ask ? ‘I'm trying papa.’ he responds, blood dripping from his nose but it was never enough.  “He just needs a second,” Henry protests as much to Vecna as the memory. The snap of the vine across his hollow cheek echoes all around them. Henry tastes copper and briefly wonders what about it Eddie suddenly finds so appealing. For the first time since they were separated , he felt anger swell in his chest.

But Henry is weak, exhausted from blood loss. Wants to fight but knows it's a waste of effort. He withers under Vecna’s glare, turning so he doesn't have to face the fact that time after time, there's nothing he can do. Vecna grunts, turning his attention back to eddie. “Are.you.satisfied?” Every word is punctuated with a tightening of tendrils, eddie slowly lifting from the floor like a stage marionette. The flesh strings raise him to eye level, brown almost black meets blue almost white. Vecan uses his good hand to examine the brunette, turning his head left and right by his jaw, using his talon to push back his lip and study Eddie's fangs. Half lidded, the young vampire muttered something, too quiet for even the dead silence of the basement “ Speak boy.” Vecna croaks “ have you had your fill? Finally Ready to serve at my side? Never be hungry again?” He curses himself for not watching. The look on Vecna’s face when Eddie spits what must be a massive mouthful of blood and mucus across his cheek is something he’d have paid good money to see.

He feels the force of the throw, the movement of the air wafting his blond fringe aside before he really registers what's happened. The entire building rattles when Eddie hits the basement wall. Vecna is gone before he’s even fallen to the floor, a fleshy mass grown over the door sealing them inside. Eddie is laughing between groans and it's quite possibly the best sound he’s ever heard. It fades far too fast, back to coughing and breathlessness and then to silence. It takes him a few minutes to rouse. Short bursts of movement, using his nails for purchase to drag himself along the ground, until the other is resting his head on Henry’s thigh. He feels the sticky warmth of blood soak into his pant leg, the bloom of red though white like ink on a wet page. A quick glance up at the plumbing tells him he must have cracked his head open on a pipe. Not like it could kill him, but still that's gotta hurt. Outside something howls and Eddie curls tighter towards him “Tell me again about your little dungeons and wagons game?” he tries “...dragons.” Eddie hums wiping blood from his mouth “hmm?” “It's dragons. Dungeons and dragons.” he repeats “so what's your favourite thing about it then?” Henry asks, looking to the ceiling to count the webs again. 

“You get to kill monsters.” 

#stranger things #eddie munson #henry creel #vecna #kas!eddie #vampire eddie munson #stranger things au #silent hill #sort of a crossover #from my deranged brain #my stuff #my writing #platonic eddie x henry

[morganwrites-starwars]

I Stand Here Right Beside You- Chapter 5: Partaylir

On Ao3

Series Summary: CC-2224 had been a good soldier for the Empire its entire existence, never failing a mission assigned to it. But Lord Vader's next mission might do it in: raise and protect Lord Vader's son. CC-2224 was not cut out for childcare. It's a good thing Cody is.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

<Back/Next>

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

     CC-2224 was standing at attention as Lord Vader’s mechanical breath became annoyed (was it even possible to breathe angrily?). And it was a good thing that it was CC-2224 because Cody might not have been able to stop himself from bursting out into laughter- and wouldn’t that be a fun way to die-

        Luke looked warily up at Lord Vader from his spot in the small sandbox Cody had gotten him, holding on tightly to a few toy tools. Some sand had spilled onto the floor because of Luke's enthusiastic building and digging.

        Two hours ago, Lord Vader had commed CC-2224, informing it that he would be coming to see his son for the first time since Luke had arrived two weeks ago. Luke had seemed uncomfortable at the idea of Lord Vader visiting him but had perked up at Cody’s suggestion that Luke could show Vader some of the things he had built, and yes, it was ok if they were still covered in sand.

        Lord Vader had stopped dead a few steps into the room after spotting Luke sitting in the sandbox, lining up his ‘inventions.’

        “Commander,” Lord Vader had spoken with barely concealed rage, “what is this?”

        “Luke stated that he enjoyed building things and digging and playing in the sand, sir. So to ensure his comfort and happiness, I ordered him a small sandbox,” CC-2224 explained, Cody cackling in the back of its mind. “Is that a problem, sir?”

        “No,” Lord Vader grated out.

        “Cody said you’d want to see the stuff I made,” Luke spoke quietly, drawing Lord Vader’s attention. Lord Vader barely hesitated, but it was still there before kneeling onto one knee, getting some sand on his suit.

        CC-2224 watched passively as Luke grew more enthusiastic, handing Lord Vader each toy after explaining them, getting more sand on Lord Vader. Luke’s ‘inventions’ included small wooden speeder replicas that he had put together with the wooden tools that came with the pack, an AT-AT toy that Luke had taken the legs off of, and the kiddie cruiser Luke had attached the AT-AT’s legs to. Lord Vader would try (and fail) to brush off the toys before examining them.

        “You have incorrectly attached the handles to the body,” Lord Vader critiqued as he examined the small wooden speeder. CC-2224 tensed as it awaited Luke’s reaction. But Luke just made a small noise, grabbed the speeder back, and delved into trying to fix it, now ignoring Lord Vader. Lord Vader stood up and walked over to CC-2224.

        “It seems I did make the correct choice in trusting you, Commander,” Lord Vader spoke.

        “Thank you, sir.”

        “I expect a weekly report, Commander. I also expect that Luke’s training has started by then.”

        “Yes, sir.” CC-2224 saluted as Lord Vader swept out of the room without another word. CC-2224 continued to stand in its spot until the door had closed. It then turned to Luke, who was staring right at it. Luke was still sitting crossed-legged in his sandbox, speeder toy in his hands. But his focus was on CC-2224, his brow furrowed.

        “Buir?” Luke asked, “Why do you do that?”

        Cody walked over to Luke and kneeled down, unintentionally mirroring Vader. “What do you mean ad?”

        “Sometimes you feel…weird,” Luke explained, scrunching his nose up. “Like right now, you feel like you, but when Mister Dad was here, you felt, like, blank. Like a droid!”

        “Uh,” was all Cody said. This was some force osik going on, wasn’t it? That was a thing, right? Cody tries to remember anything about the force because surely he knew something-

        A red-haired bearded man was sitting across from Cody, amusement lighting up his blue eyes as he sipped from the cup held in his hands. However, the rest of his features were hazy, and when Cody tried to make them out, they’d shift and move. Regardless, Cody felt warm and content in this man’s presence and knew that his amusement was not harshly aimed at Cody.

        “Well, you see, my dear Cody,” the man spoke with a beautiful, rich Coruscantian accent. Cody felt his heart speed up at the pet name, even though he knew that this man often referred to him as such, “We cannot read your mind, per se. It is more so an impression of your strong feelings and thoughts that people project subconsciously. Each individual person also has their own distinct feel in the Force.”

        Cody felt his mouth tick up into a smile. “So that’s how you can tell the vode apart even in armor?”

        The man nodded, and Cody could tell that his smile grew wider. “Exactly.”

        Cody leaned forward, feeling a bit devious. “So, what do I feel like?”

        The man cleared his throat, and Cody could tell he was a bit embarrassed, “Ah, well-“

        But he was interrupted by a knock on the door.

        “General Ke-“

        “Buir?” Luke’s voice broke Cody out of the thought (memory? But who was that man and why did he feel so familiar?). Cody smiled at Luke to reassure him.

        “Ni ceta ad,” Cody apologized, “I got lost in my thoughts. I’m not really sure why I’d feel different.” Luke hummed before holding his arms out to be held. “Ah, not yet, ad. What was our deal?”

        Luke pouted. “If I make a mess, I gotta help clean it up.”

        “Exactly, and I’d say this looks pretty messy, wouldn’t you?” Cody had read giving kids small responsibilities and chores were good for them. Luke nodded in agreement, so together, the two of them swept the sand off of Luke’s toys, put the toys away in the small box Cody had gotten for them, and swept the sand off the floor. Then Cody took Luke into the bathroom for a quick sonic to clean off (Luke got uncomfortable in water showers, so for shorter, easier cleans, they would use the sonic) before changing Luke into clean clothes and taking off his own armor. They settled on the couch, and Luke picked out a book to read with Cody on the children’s datapad Cody had gotten.

        “Buir?” Luke asked, and at Cody’s responding hum, continued, “What’d Mister Dad mean when he said I gotta start trainin��?”

        Oh, right. Cody had forgotten that Vader had said that. How would he even train a child? He doubted it wasn’t supposed to be anything like his training as a cadet, and Luke wasn’t genetically modified and made for fighting (probably, Cody wouldn’t completely put that past Vader).

        “Well, we’re going to read a story so you can learn to read, right? Training is how you learn to defend yourself from bad people,” Cody explained. Luke looked back down at his datapad, at the bright book cover in front of him.

        “Why do I have t’ know that?”

        “Well, one day, I won’t be there to protect you, so you’ll have to know how to protect yourself from people who want to hurt you.”

        “Why would someone wanna hurt me?” Luke pouted up at Cody. And Cody would want to know that too. How could someone want to hurt such a sweet child?

        “Well, your dad isn’t the most well-liked person, and so someone might try to hurt you as a way to hurt him.” Cody winced at Luke’s scared face. Maybe that wasn’t the best example to use. But, Cody reasoned, there’s really no good way to explain to a four-year-old that at some point in his life, people are probably going to try and kill him in revenge because they hate his father, and there’s not really anything he can do to change that.

        Yeah, Cody was going to stick with his explanation. But maybe he can try to put a positive spin on it.

        “And maybe one day you’ll be stronger than me.” And this time, Cody smiled at Luke’s awed face.

        “Stronger than you? No way!” Luke exclaimed, shifting to sit on his knees.

        “Yeah, way. How’d you think I got this strong in the first place?”

        “Training?”

        “Training.”

        Alright, one point to Cody. Luke now looked excited and was slightly bouncing up and down on his knees.

        “Can we start now?” Luke asked enthusiastically.

        Cody raised a brow at him, assessing Luke’s sudden increased energy. Well, might as well kill two birds with one stone- start Luke’s training and get his extra energy out. Cody stood up from the couch and rolled out his shoulders, thinking about what exercises would be possible for a child. He settled on starting small with a handful of jumping jacks and seeing how Luke does with that.

        So Luke stood across from Cody as Cody introduced him to jumping jacks, starting with stepping out into the correct positions, arms and legs out. Luke decided to call this ‘scare the womp-rats’ since, apparently, that’s how he sometimes entertained himself on Tatooine. They progressed into a jump and spreading their arms and legs at the same time. Keeping with the ‘scare the womp-rats’ theme, Luke would yell, “Boo!” with each jump. Luke had a huge smile as he jumped and yelled, slowing moving faster.

        After about 15 repetitions, Cody stopped and got two cups of water for himself and Luke. He wanted to make sure Luke learned how to take of himself too properly. And then, seeing how Luke was still full of energy, Cody decided to head out into the hallway with Luke.

        Since they were in the section of the ship with private quarters, it was quiet, with no one walking down the hallway. Cody told Luke they would run to one end of the hall and then to the other until either he got tired, thirsty, or when Cody told him to stop. So they ran together. Well, for Cody, it was more of a light jog so Luke could keep up with him. And again, Luke had a huge smile on his face as they ran, and Cody realized how much he had missed training with other people. Not training around people, he could do that whenever he wanted. But training with someone, especially someone he cared about and that cared about him.

        After a few laps of the hall, Cody noticed that Luke’s breathing had become more labored, so he called it finished. Luke protested, claiming he was fine and not tried, and Cody had a brief flash of the red-haired man he had seen earlier. But he brushed it off, deciding to think about it later when Luke was asleep. Probably.

        Maybe.

        Probably not.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Mando'a Translation: buir- parent ad- child Ni ceta- I'm sorry (lit. I kneel) typically for more severe situations but I figured it was easier for Luke to learn that than N'eparavu takisit

<Back/Next>

#clone wars #cc 2224 #commander cody #purge trooper cody #imperial luke skywalker #luke skywalker #i stand here right beside you #star wars #darth vader #cody x obi wan #leia and luke #leia organa #ahsoka tano #codywan #obi wan kenobi #commander wolffe #captian rex #Aliit ori'shya tal'din

[ayyponine]

sharing unexpected eye contact w a guy like... what are we

thinking about two entirely separate guys actually rip

one is a guy at a work meeting about a week ago who 1. had an extended chat w me before the official start 2. during which he asked how i was doing but after my "good" and update on goings on w the store, customers and products he asked again how i PERSONALLY was doing like?? uh good?? 3. also during the team meeting he was explaining like this and that and a good point which - what's your name again? (me: daphne) a good point which daphne brought up- i was like.. ok so i make an impression on you and i stand out frm the other girlies here orr.. not to mention w the prev meeting he also treated me like the most responsible person in the room to b trusted w things like ok you see me..

the other is frm two weekends back when i visited diff artists' studios and tbh i kept my visit to his short bc 1. i seemed to startle him by even being there 2. since there was no other visitor at the time he called the one on one tour "awkward" barely two minutes in rip (did offer me a drink though so idk mb i was welcome to stay) and 3. idk if he rlly knew what to do w my super positive and complimentary vibes on his artworks displayed. we also talked a bit abt the live drawing sessions hes hosting (he was surprised i had heard abt them before) and afterwards i was like damn why DIDNT i ever go to one of those theyre so reasonably priced and ive been meaning to give it a try fr ages? so i signed yself up fr it but instantly after considered dropping out again bc sure i was allowed to visit the studio and attend the drawing session like those are both open events but was the guy really comfortable? w my presence? should i bow out? except then last weekend while biking home a diff cyclist overtook me looked back & waved and it was the guy?? who apparently 1. recognised me frm the back, with my hood up (my coat is kinda distinctive tho i guess) 2. after that realisation instead of staying behind, ignoring or whatever went past, looked back, established eye contact & greeted me so first of all im massively relieved that id probably be welcome at the drawing session and hes not that uncomfortable w my vibes but also i am like. uh what are the implications

tldr local woman recieves acknowledgement from someone not obligated to do so. keeps thinking abt the encounter at least once a day

(tries to remember she recently got rejected by tinder match after a few promising dates so mb shes just. clinging to any proof shes still worthy of male attention rip)

#girl help im so lonely im romanticising brief human contact which should better remain strictly professional #special shoutout to work last weekend it was like fuken. dilf city up in there oh my god. one of the blessings of selling family fashion fr #not only do u see cool young women and doting older ones or fun couples. u see massively cool and/or cute kids and then trailing behind BAM

[emeraldbabygirl]

Warm Eyes

Your phone buzzed on your nightstand blowing up with messages and calls from your friend Ninja but you were sound asleep. Then the sound of footsteps woke you up. Still half asleep you rolled over and grabbed your phone off the nightstand chuckling to yourself as you scrolled through all the notifications from Ninja. Placing the phone back on the nightstand you sat up in bed and stretched letting out a yawn.

“Miss ma’am I cannot believe you sometimes.” Ninja walked in through your bedroom door. “I expected a sink full of dishes and a messy apartment. Instead I’m greeted with one fork in the sink. One fork. I deserve an explanation.” You smiled as Ninja came to your bedside and plopped down next to you.

“I ate ice cream and then took a nap.” 

“Out of the container? Without a bowl? Are you getting sicker?” Ninja scooted closer to you and placed both hands on your cheeks pressing his forehead against yours. “You still feel hot hun.” Ninja said pulling away. You shook your head, “you know there’s other ways to check my temperature.” you said pulling away to cough. Ninja only smiled while patting your leg. 

“There are but this is my way and you like the attention.” You both exchanged smiles. “So what are you doing here it’s like late in the afternoon. You’re gonna get sick if you hang around me.” 

“I’m here to take care of you silly.” 

“I- that’s ridiculous I don’t need to be taken care of, I called in sick, I ate so many Tylenols and vitamins and I was gonna make some tea later. Besides it’s not like the house is a mess or anything.” Ninja made a face. “I’ll go draw you a bath and while you’re relaxing I will make you some good’ol chicken soup and clean up a bit.”

“You mean wash the one fork in the sink?” you laughed but that only caused you to cough some more. 

“I’m just gonna freshen up your home a bit and maybe leave a surprise or two is all. Let me have this, you always take care of me it’s time I return the favor.” You smiled at Ninja grateful for him in so many ways. “Thank you Nini, I appreciate it.” 

After your warm bath you sat on the edge of your bed in a pair of clean and warm clothes and braided your hair. A light knock on the door caught your attention and in walked Ninja with a tray with soup and what looked like some fruit. “How did you get in anyway?” you asked settling into bed. Ninja helped you with the covers and placed the tray over your legs. “Well after texting and calling you multiple times I remembered I had a key so I let myself in and the first thing I saw was the fork and I knew something was up.”

“One unwashed fork in the sink made you come to that conclusion? You knew I was sick.”

“Can you imagine the horror I felt when I saw that fork?” you busted up laughing Ninja following after. Ninja then proceeded to feed you but you shook your head. “Babe, I can feed myself, I’m not that old.” Ninja shrugged and started texting on his phone. You knew he was texting because of how fast his fingers were moving. “The soup is good Nini thank you.” no response. You rolled your eyes. He heard you he was just consumed by something. “Gee I wonder what could possibly be more important than a compliment from The Chef Ninja inventor of chicken noodle soup and defender of unwashed forks everywhere.” 

“Ok I’ll tell you. So I will be back to check on you later tonight, I have a hot date.”

“You have a what? With who? Ninja you haven’t been out in weeks.”

“Shut up,” Ninja rolled his eyes, “I met someone okay. Like a few days ago online and-”

“Online? You literally get on my ass for wanting to date online.” you said taking more bites of your soup.

“I know I know but this is a group date, I’m going to the club with Yean and Erwin.” Your ears perked up at the name. Erwin had hung out with Ninja and George a few times but you had only kind of met him once at a Christmas party last year. You felt your face get warm. 

“Oh um, he’s George’s friend right? We saw him at the Christmas party. Interesting.” Ninja stopped texting and looked up at you a smile creeping across his face. “Oh my god. You like him don’t you?” Ninja gasped as you looked down. “GIRL YOU DO OH MY GOD. Why didn’t I notice ugh.”

“Shut up. So what if I like him he probably doesn’t even know I exist. Please don’t say anything to him god I’ve only seen him once how can I have a crush on him.” 

“Easy, he’s a fine man.” Ninja took your tray after you finished and you settled into bed more. “I will be back ok. Get some rest.” Ninja smiled kissing your forehead. “Have fun with your hot date. And don’t let Yean drink too much you know how she gets.” At this point you and Ninja had adopted Yean as your adult child with the way you two act around her. “She’ll be fine she’s a grown woman she can handle her liquor.”

“Yeah, with one in each hand.”

“Go to sleep.” Ninja laughed closing your bedroom door. 

“Yes mother!” you shouted behind him. 

“Wakey wakey y/n I’m back.” You sensed movement and heard multiple footsteps. Then a clicking noise that you knew was your lamp being turned on. You rubbed your eyes waking up and meeting Ninja on the side of your bed. “Hey how are you feeling?” he asked pulling you into a hug. He smelled like an odd mix of fruit and multiple cologne scents. You smiled to yourself. 

“I feel a little better, that soup really helped. How was your group date? You asked already smiling. Knowing Ninja it went over well but there was always a chance he could’ve ruined it by being too dramatic. 

“Oh god it was fantastic. His name is Frank and he is wonderful. So handsome and kind, he paid for everything and ugh I love him already. He even asked me out on another date.” You were about to speak up when you heard movement in the hallway. You gave Ninja a confused look. “Speaking of date I brought someone to see you.” Ninja said winking. You paused thinking who he could’ve been talking about and than you froze, eyes wide with panic. 

“You didn’t.” you whispered. Ninja’s smile just confirmed your assumption. “Ninja what the fuck why would you do that I told you not to tell him. Why did you do this?” 

“You’ll thank me later.” Ninja grinned standing up. “Erwin come in here.” Ninja exclaimed. As he went to walk away you almost jumped out of bed to latch onto his wrist. “Ninja please I’m not ready I can’t tell him this is silly you’re pulling my leg.” But to your dismay Ninja was serious and when Erwin walked through your bedroom doorway holding a plate you nearly shit yourself. This would be the first time you had any boy that wasn’t Ninja in your room. You locked eyes with Ninja silently pleading with him but all he did was wink at you and walk away. “I made fresh chocolate chip cookies like 10 minutes ago so y’all enjoy.” and with that Ninja left you with your crush. You were too stunned to speak. 

You repositioned yourself on the bed so Erwin could sit if he wanted to. You watched him place the plate of cookies on your nightstand before joining you on the bed.

“Hello, I’m Erwin.” He reaches out to shake your hand and it makes you smile at the kind gesture. You feel your cheeks get hot and cover your face with the covers. “Um, I’m sick so maybe save the handshake for later. I’m y/n by the way. Um..” you trailed off too afraid to take the covers off your face and too afraid to make eye contact. You looked at what Erwin was wearing. A silly grey sweater with a black blazer over the top and light colored jeans with black boots. You wondered if he always dressed so nice. Your eyes shifted to his neck that was adorned with a few silver necklaces and then forcing yourself to meet his eyes.

“You look nice. H-how was the club?” you asked thinking about how silly this was to have a crush on him despite only meeting him once. “Oh thank. It was alright, how are you feeling? Ninja told me you had come down with something.” That sassy bastard you thought to yourself. Of course Ninja would say that just to bring Erwin to see you. You sighed and dropped the covers from your face. 

“I’m doing better, I think.” it was quiet for a while and you were getting anxious. You grabbed the plate of cookies and held it out to Erwin giving him a small smile. He smiled back before taking one. You both sat and munched on your cookies for a bit and then Erwin spoke up.

“Listen um..I know that we haven’t really met other than at the Christmas party-” he remembers you from that? Maybe he feels the same way? “Can I take you out on a date?” you look up at him starting to blush again. You notice his cheeks start to turn pink. 

“Me? Why me? Did you not have fun with Yean she’s a delight.” you spit out beginning to panic. There’s no way Erwin would ask you out. It’s got to be some prank. 

“No? Why would I want to ask Yean?”

“Don’t you like her? I mean that’s why you came along right. To see her?” You adored Yean more than anything but you couldn’t help but feel a little jealous that she got to hang out with Erwin and not you. Erwin laughed and you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed and maybe a little hurt. 

“I like Yean but as a friend. She’s too hyper for me, plus she constantly laughs whenever she looks at me like she’s never seen a tall guy before even though she’s friends with a lot of tall guys. She’s like an annoying little sister.” This time you joined Erwin’s laughter. “I actually asked Ninja if I could see you if I went with him.” Erwin said sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck before wringing his hands. After a few moments you spoke up. 

“Would it be alright if we went on a group date? With Ninja and Yean. I’m kind of nervous about dating to begin with um..” you trail off worried that he might change his mind. 

“I think that’s okay. Whatever is comfortable for you.” he said causing your heartbeat to quicken at the sweet comment. Your eye met with his for longer this time. They were so pretty and filled with warmth, you could see yourself looking into his eyes for a long time. Unfortunately shouts and quick footsteps caused both of you to look towards your doorway. In seconds to saw a very plastered Yean wobble in your room making a beeline for you with Ninja right behind. 

“MOMMA!” Yean shouted burping loudly before flopping on top of you. You sighed rolling your eyes but wrapped your arms around her petting her on the head. “Ninja I told you to watch her.” You saw Erwin glance at you and smile and it made your heart flutter for some reason. 

“You know how she is babe, the first drink is free and then she hits you with that cute pout and those puppy dog eyes and you fold. Don’t worry we all counted and stopped her before she could hit 10.” 

“But that didn’t stop her from attempting to climb on the bar.” Erwin added. You looked between Erwin and Ninja in shock. “Are you kidding? She didn’t get you guys kicked out did she?” 

“No but George got it on camera look at this she was wild.” Ninja came over and played the video for you. Yean was singing something in between burping and asking for more drinks. She used the bar stool to reach the bar and as soon as she had one knee on the table Ninja and Erwin rushed to get her down. The video ended with her whining. 

“Okay one, you didn’t tell me George was gonna be there and two she’s done with clubs for awhile.” Yean shifted in your arms mumbling how she wasn’t drunk which made you smile. You really did adore her.

“I didn’t invite him he was just there trust me if you weren’t sick I would’ve texted you.” Ninja said. 

“Ok well Yean needs to go home now please her breath smells like hot pockets and avocados.” You kissed her cheek before Erwin picked her up. “I’ll be out in the car.”  he said carrying her out bridle style and it melted your heart. 

“Ok so spill the tea.” Ninja says grabbing your hands in his. “He asked me out and I said I would love to but as a group date with Yean and you. Oh Ninja he’s super sweet and so fashionable and his eyes are so pretty.” Ninja grins from ear to ear. “That’s great when’s your date?” 

“Next Friday night. I was thinking you could help me with my hair and makeup and Yean could be join us before we go.” Ninja frowned at you. “What?” Ninja gets off the bed momentarily leaving for your bathroom.

“I can’t sweetie I’m sorry, I have a date with Frank that night. I’m staying at his house, he wants me to meet his dog. It’s a chihuahua.” You hear rustling from the bathroom and wonder what he’s doing.

“Nini you hate chihuahuas.” You say loud enough so he can hear. When he comes out your hairbrush is in his hand. He jumps on the bed and sits next to you and begins to unbraid your hair.

“I know I know but I love Frank and I’m willing to put up with his pet rat.” you both laugh. “I can still do your hair and makeup and we can even go with Yean and buy you something cute before your date. I’m sure by the sounds of it Erwin would be able to pick you up. Besides that’s so much more romantic than piling in a car with others.” You looked at Ninja before smiling. There’s always been a motherly side to Ninja that you’ve always loved and appreciated and even simple offers like taking you to get new clothes makes your heart spin. Even now with him brushing your hair for you even though you are perfectly capable of doing it on your own. Ninja has always done such caring and simple tasks for you and you’re so graceful to him.

“Thank you for coming over to take care of me and bringing Erwin. And cleaning the one fork in my sink. I appreciate it.” You said pulling Ninja into a hug after he finished brushing your hair out.

“Anything for you love. Now get some sleep you need to be healthy for that hot date of yours.” Ninja helps you into bed and kisses you on the forehead. “I’ll leave the cookies here and I’ll be back in the morning okay?” And with that Ninja leaves you to drift off to sleep.

#4mix #ninja #4mix ninja #atlas #erwin #erwin pattrick pennors #atlas erwin #yean #yean papitchaya #4mix fanfics #ninja fanfics #atlas fanfics #erwin fanfics #yean fanfics #fanfics #writing #tpop #tpop fanfics

[kkusuka]

Y/n and either Ushijima, Suna or Sugawara ((I couldn’t decide so you pick 😫)) put paint on themselves and then fuck on a canvas to hang up in there house. Nobody would ever know that the art they were just admiring was made by Y/n and him having seggs 😂😂

✨Puppy🤩

i’m gonna do Toshi and Rin because i couldn’t think of something for suga, if i do i might post something for him bc i really like the prompt lol

ushijima wakatoshi <3

at times he hated the fact the collage required him to take an art class. he was there on a full scholarship for volleyball, not art.

most of the time he didn’t care all that much, he could draw and use the class pastels for an hour two days a week. and he was no Picasso but he was passing so that was all he could ask for.

well that’s what he thought until about an hour ago when he remembered that his midterm, what will be 40% of his semester grade, was due in the morning. it was fairly open, only had a few restrictions, it had to be on a 36’x48’ canvas and must have a single medium, he chose paint because it seemed easy at the time.

well now he was sitting in front on the white canvas, mind completely void of creative inspiration, and he had practice in two hours. making things about one-thousand times worse was that his social media was full of women painting their nudes, a trend he knew you had tried.

“toshi? you’ve been sitting there for forty-five minutes, are you ok?”

the idea hit him like a truck, his teacher said they could do whatever they wanted and that’s what he was going to do.

“y/n? will you help me out for a few minutes?” he inquired, drawing your body into the room.

you never really knew what ushijima was thinking, his stone cold facade didn’t spare you in times like this. though you could see the burning in his eyes as he waved you over where he had gotten sky blue and violet cans of paint.

without a word, you watched had he began to tug your sweats down your legs.

“whoa! what are you doing?” he just picked up some of the paint before looking up to you.

“i’m going to fuck you on it.” his stated as if he was talking about ordering lunch. not waiting for your reply he smeared the blue onto the front of your thighs along your full legs.

“take of your shirt.” doing what he said he immediately began rubbing the paint onto your stomach, throughly coating your breasts, twisting your nipples and the skin underneath, all the way up to the base of your neck.

he turn you by your waist, pressing your body to the canvas that was hanging along the wall.

you would ask him if this was appropriate, but you didn’t have a chance before he was opening your folds and pushing his tip int your cunt.

“you’re wet already? all i’ve done was put paint on you, are you that much of an unstable whore?” his words and how unfazed he sounded sent another wave of heat down your walls. snapping his hips to your sent you furthers into the now colors portion of your art.

“toshi, not— not to hard-“ a smack to your ass accompanied with a harsh thrust your your cervix shut you up.

his dick was carving its was into your walls, you’d been dating for years but he made you feel like a virgin.

you were never out that the weight of his thrusts would rip the canvas, you worries thrown from your mind as his dick hit the sweet spot in your depths, squirting your cum into his thighs. halting his thrusts you felt a cold, wet substance drip over you back. you felt the pads of his fingers rub it all over your back before moving his hands to your hips, giving you a glimpse of the blue coating his palms.

“you don’t think we’re done do you?” he mocked, pulling you off his for a split second before pressing your back to your masterpiece, the blue joining your mess of purple, “i haven’t cum yet so out painting is not completed.”

suna rintarou <3

“there you go messy slut! go ahead rub those pretty tits on the board,” suna’s mocking words were accompanied with a flick of your clit, “you want everyone to know what we did on this don’t you?”

he had brought up the idea after seeing something like it on instagram, but he really just wanted physical proof that he was the best fuck you’ll ever get.

“rin-ri- i, please!”

“oh baby, this is going to look so pretty. i’m gonna hang it in our living room so everyone can see it! they’ll have no idea but whenever you see it you’ll remember how i fucked you dumb.” he sneered, pushing your torso further into the canvas.

his cock plunged in and out of your hole garnered with the wet slaps of skin. grabbing your hair to pull your head back he forced you to look at him as you came around his cock, him following in suit.

•••

“that’s a really cool painting where’d y’all get it?”

oh aran, why did you have to ask in a room full of people? you had decorations handing all around your house and he asks about the one thing you can’t explain without stuttering.

“me and y/n made it together, right? it was so much fun.” suna chimed from across the room where he was speaking with kita and osamu.

“yeah honey, we did!” you smiled, faking a laugh while observing the multiple disruption in the paint from where you had dropped wetness onto the board.

•

tags: @bakugos-cumsock

#ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #ushijima smut #ushijima x reader smut #ushijima wakatoshi x reader smut #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #suna rintarou x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna smut #suna x reader smut #suna x reader #suna rinatro #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader

[lyssahlyssah]

Obey Me! The Present

a/n: not suitable for work

Well, this took a week of my life, but it's ok! It's obviously something I needed to get off my chest (ahem). I hope you enjoy. 🟣🔵⚫

pairing: F!MC x Belphegor, category: (very) not suitable for work, warnings: some angst, virgin sex, penetration, oral sex, teasing, man-eating petunias. description: Belphie give F!MC the present she's always wanted. wordcount: 2.1k

"Is there anything else I can do for you for your birthday? Being your present and all. "

In your room, Belphie stands in front of you with his usual coy smile. Tall and gorgeous, he cocks his head to one side causing hair to fall into his violet eyes. He confidently holds your gaze.  As the gaze lingers, his smile deepens, playfully suggestive.

Today is your birthday and you've spent it on a date with Belphie. Feeling guilty after forgetting to buy you anything, he had cleverly volunteered to be your present, granting you any wishes you wanted.

Excited by his creativity (and the prospect of time with him alone), you had taken full advantage, first visiting the planetarium and then the botanical gardens. You'd laughed together, played around, took naps under a tree with his head in your lap. At the botanical gardens, he'd even rescued you from man-eating petunias after you took a wrong turn, and had shamelessly teased you about it since. Everything was effortless and fun when you were together.

And now, looking at his smiling face, you reflected on how far the two of you'd come. This wasn't Belphie from long ago in the attic; the angry and vengeful demon that once tried to kill you, heart twisted with hate from the loss of his beloved sister. No, he had changed. As time had gone on, he had warmed to the whole world, even to his older brother Lucifer, whom he had once admitted hating to the point of murder. He was now letting people to get close to him again. And especially you. He had opened the door to his heart and was inviting you in.

Because of the complicated history you shared, a special bond grew between you. His aloofness drew your open and loving nature like a moth to a flame, and you clicked like magnets due to your differences. Over any of the other brothers, he made you feel comfortable. Facing him now, you realized you've fallen hard for the infamous sloth demon. It was for those reasons, a response to his question immediately floated to your lips.

"Kiss me", you say, giving him a smile of your own.

"Sure", he agrees, a blush on his cheeks. Your lips meet. It's soft and sweet. Somehow, even though you aren't sure where he found the time between naps to become this way, Belphie is an incredible kisser.

His lips push down on yours with a little more force, then abruptly pull back, leaving you breathless. "Is that all?" he asks. "In that case, I'll give myself to you every day" his eyes crinkle in a smile, ever teasing.

You wet your lips, heart pattering in your chest. You did want more from him...a lot more.  Now or never. you think. You catch his hand and hold it. "Ah...Belphie...actually, what I want instead, is to give m-myself....to you." you stammer a little in getting it out. His eyes widen as he realizes what you're insinuating. Silence.

"MC...you sure? With me?" Belphie stares back at you, no longer joking. He pauses. "Why me? Why not Lucifer...or...or...The Great Mammon?" he says, with a sarcastic flourish.

When he sees your face drop, he immediately apologizes and runs a hand through his thick hair, ruffling it. His voice softens. "I'm sorry...I've been angry for so long, you know? Sometimes it just comes out when I don't mean it to."

He takes your hand again and pulls you to the bed where you sit down together. Color rises in his cheeks. "Really though...I've lied to you, I've manipulated you. Not that long ago...I even tried to kill you. Why am I the one you want for this?" He searches your face for an answer. 

"You're my master, I can't refuse you, and I'd be crazy to anyway, but...why me?" Standing up, he paces a few feet in a circle, then sits down again. You've rarely seen him this worked up; it's obvious he still hasn't totally forgiven himself for hurting you.

"I love you Belphie", the words fall out of your mouth. Your eyes widen. You search your feelings and know it isn't a lie. His eyes are wide too. "Do...do you mean that?" he questions, leaning back.

You nod, "I need you, Belphie. I feel safe with you; I know you'd never hurt me now. And...I know you need me too". You continue, your voice low. "I want you. More than anyone else".

The words visibly shake him. He drops his head, staring into his lap, then slowly brings his head back up and gazes at you. You're taken aback by the open desire you see there. It's as if a mask has fallen off and you're seeing the real him for the first time.

When he speaks, it's slowly, deliberately.

"I want to know you that way, MC...More intimately than anyone ever has." His eyes start to glow a fierce purple. "You're mine, and I want to be your first. I want to give you something to remember me by when you go back to the human world." You swallow hard, your heart starting to race and nod.

He leans forward, takes your face between his hands, and kisses you. And again. Deeply, tongue reaching hungrily into your mouth. You whimper against his lips, full of want.

You give yourself over completely to his touch. His hands are on your face, guiding the movement of your heads. It feels so good, all the strength leaves you, and you fully let him hold you up. Between kisses, he makes small sounds of passion.

"You drive me crazy" he murmurs, looking into your eyes. A thrill runs up your spine. He's here, fully here - with you. No distance. Not a trace of sleepiness. In this moment of closeness, Belphie has completely overcome his sin.

You gasp as his fingers effortlessly snap off the button to your jeans with an audible pop. "Oops", he says, not sounding sorry in the slightest.

He leans you back onto the covers. Continuing to kiss you, he slides his hand into your jeans and caresses your lower stomach, playing with the hollow of your hip bone. Ticklish, you sharply draw in a breath, causing him to smile at you. "Don't be nervous" he says reassuringly. "I'll take care of you".

He sides your pants down, and then completely takes them off. You shiver, all at once feeling vulnerable.

"Mmmm..." He murmurs, looking over your body. "You're so beautiful. I've dreamed about getting to touch you like this". He reverently slides his hands up and down your thighs, your hips, your waist. Goosebumps raise up at his touch.

Holding your gaze, he leans down and pulls your shirt over your head then sits upright and does the same for himself. His hair is even more disheveled afterward and the thought of it being that way because you're in bed together turns you on.

Even though you've napped together endlessly, you've never seen this much of his body, and you sigh with pleasure drinking in the width of his shoulders, his flat stomach. He watches you just as avidly and the small smile returns as he sees the effect he has on you.

Leaning in, Belphie captures your lips once more in a steamy kiss. Running his hands up your shoulders, he cups your cheeks, then traces down your back and unhooks your bra. You respond by thrusting your own hands into his hair and pulling him to you.

He kisses his way down your chest and your stomach, where his lips leave little trails of fire on your skin. You try but can't remember ever feeling more aroused. He playfully nips your belly button as it goes by, and smiles when you jump and protest, eyes glinting.

Belphie stops between your legs, breathing out slowly, and kisses up one of your thighs. At the top he hugs it to his face, cheek pressing into the flesh. Pausing, he looks at you sideways and says, "I've wanted to do this since we met".

Taking his time, he hooks your panties with one finger and pulls them down. Admiring the view, he runs a finger down your core, lightly teasing your clit. You sigh, then jump when he gives a jerk. "You're so fucking wet down here" he utters in awed tones.

Seeing you so excited for him seems to unhinge him a little. Looking at your soaked slit with total attention, he raises his finger to his lips and lightly sucks off your excitement. His eyes flutter close and a low groan of desire escapes him. Leaning in, he buries his face in your folds. His soft tongue pushes roughly against your swollen clit and it's your turn to gasp.

He continues to work on you for a few minutes. The pleasure overwhelms you, but still, you want him deeper. Parts of yourself you aren't familiar with are showing up and demanding to be satisfied. You try to stretch your legs further and wider apart so his tongue can reach every needy part of you. More than happy to help, he greedily tongues your tight hole. "B-Belphie!" Your voice rises as you near your climax. He reaches one hand up and laces your fingers through his. "Go ahead, MC...I've got you, you're safe. I want to taste you when you cum." Soothed, you let yourself go fully, shuddering, waves of euphoria threatening to drown you. "Mmmm..." Belphie says contentedly. You can feel his lips as he captures every last drop on his tongue.

You collapse into the pillows as the pleasure ebbs away, but he doesn't give you time to rest. You feel manicured fingers slide into your slippery hole. At first, it's a gentle in-and-out getting you used to the sensation. You squirm, your flesh still sensitive from his earlier attentions. After a few moments, he picks up the pace and starts pushing into you faster and deeper, turning and curling the digits. Mewling with every thrust, you blush bright red, still a little self-conscious  From his place cradled between your legs, he watches your face possessively. "I love your sounds", he says.

Pleasure begins to fill your abdomen once again as you near climax, and you involuntarily start to grind against his hand, desperate to increase the tempo. Loving your impatience, he dips his head down and bites you on the inside of your thigh, near your core. Surprised by the unexpected sensation, you're pushed over the edge, launching into oblivion for the second time. This time he can't help himself and covers your mouth in a passionate kiss, jealously swallowing your cries of pleasure.

Thoroughly ravaged, you look up at him through half-lidded eyes. Belphie looks back at you, spellbound by the state you're in. "B...Belphie", you manage to get out. "What, MC?" he softly answers. "I need you inside me", you pleadingly say to his violet eyes. He shudders and pulls back from you.

"Okay", he says, unfastening his pants button. He pulls them down and his length springs out, large, strong, and perfect. Dazzled, your mouth drops open slightly. He smiles confidently at you and crawls back up your body. Once there, he turns your hips so you're lying on your back with your hips to one side, lined up to your exposed slit on his knees. He runs his hands over your ass, squeezing it, testing its softness, before bringing his hands back to grip your hip with both hands. "Tell me if I hurt you", he says with unexpected tenderness and starts to push inside you.

Due to the position of your hips and your overall tightness, his first thrust is shallow, but the friction makes you both groan. Pulling out slowly, drawing out the pleasure, he pushes inside again, going slightly deeper. Your eyes roll back in your head. He feels blissful, way past anything you had imagined.

Using your hip to pull your ass against his lap, he starts to move more quickly. With abandon, you throw your arms against the covers above your head, your face falling to one side and breasts jiggling as the snap of his thrusts push you up and down. Also lost in pleasure, his eyes are closed and low groans rumble from his throat.

It doesn't take long for you to climax again, and then again. Your walls clenching tightly around him, each climax earns you a growl, but Belphie shows no signs of giving you mercy. Finally, even though you wish it could last forever, he thrusts deeply within you and you feel his warmth spread into your abdomen.

Completely spent, you lay together in the candlelight, your head on his chest, legs intertwined. Your core aches sweetly. He holds you close. Happier than you've felt in your entire life, you both start to drop off. As you do, you raise your head to look at him, and you see he's already asleep. Full of affection, your chin on his chest, you breathe, "Thank you for granting my wish". Seconds later, fading into darkness you hear him whisper, "I love you, too".

#obey me swd #obey me reader insert #obey me smut #obey me! #obey me #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #belphie x mc #swd belphie #belphie #swd: obey me #obey me writing #obey me imagines