#so.... ya my brain fails me yet again

[euphoricimagination]

Friends don’t look that way

Feat. Kenma, Osamu & Sakusa

Kenma

Kuroo has never seen Kenma this way before.

Kenma has always been quiet, enjoying the company of his games way more than any other person; yet he was always caring about anyone else perception of him, always noticing eyes on him. However, Kenma never looks back, never looks at anyone directly that he didn’t have to look at.

So when Kuroo saw his friend on the lunch table, looking in front of him every few minutes with an unusual look, he was confused.

Kenma usually spends his lunchtime playing, if it wasn’t for Kuroo he would even forget to eat, so it’s no wonder than the captain wants to know what is grabbing the attention of his best friend.

He followed Kenma’s gaze once he lift his eyes up, finding you laughing with your friends. He has seen you before, you were in the same class as Kenma and sat behind him. You also seemed to enjoy volleyball and gaming as much as his friend, as he has seen you in their volleyball matches wearing a well love Legend of Zelda hoodie. He looks at you again, you were hearing whatever your friend was telling you with a smile on your face, before he looks back at Kenma, his eyes shining in a very particular way

“Do you know her?” Kuroo asks his friend, making him come out of his small trance

“Yn? Yeah, she’s my classmate” he answers back again with his nonchalant expression

“I meant it as actually knowing her, talking to her” he insist, seeing a faint blush on his friend face

“Yeah, she’s nice”

“She has to be more than nice for you to be so unsubtle with your heart eyes for her”

“I’m not…looking at her like that” he mumbles with a mixture of annoyance and shyness, as he hides his face in the scarf around his neck. Kuroo smirks at his friend response, not believing anything that comes out of his mouth, especially when Kenma lifts his eyes towards you again only to find out that you were looking at him too. Kuroo laughs out loud now as the both of you blush, putting a hand on Kenma’s shoulder

“Well, I don’t think you’re the only one with heart eyes” he says encouraging only to receive a glare from Kenma, a useless glare considering how red he is. His friend is definitely in love.

Osamu

Osamu is not concentrating as he should be in this practice match. He knows it, Atsumu has pointed out, Kita also remind him that they were playing several times, and now even the coach is pointing it out, scolding him for not taking this practice match seriously.

But it’s not his fault, Osamu thinks to himself, how it’s he supposed to concentrate when you are in the bleachers watching the match alongside your friends? How is he supposed to not look at you when you look so cute being all excited every time they score a point?

However, he doesn’t really understand why he is so unable to focus. Normally when you want to impress someone you would try your hardest to be better than normal, trying to stand out for them to notice. So how come his brain decided to do the exact opposite? Not only he was failing his serves miserably, but also he has unable to stop looking at you, resulting in him pathetically failing at receiving some of the easiest serves.

“Oi” Atsumu calls him once the coach finished talking “What the hell is wrong with ya?! Ya suck!”

“Eh?” Osamu looks at him back “I don’t suck, maybe yer’re the problem, dontcha think?”

“Me?! Ya know damn well I ain’t the problem here!” Atsumu throws him a ball, however he can catch it quite easily “What are ya even looking at?!”

“I think I know” says Suna smirking, looking in your direction and making him look at you too. Atsumu also follows his brother gaze, noticing how Osamu’s eyes change slightly when you lock eyes with him “What is it Samu? You like- Oi, listen to me”

Osamu is listening to everything, however he can’t seem to process any words coming out of his friends mouth, only focusing on you…until he received a slap on the back of his head

“Oi, stop eyeing them like they’re a piece of snack, ya fucking weirdass, she ain’t food” Atsumu says this time. Weird? Was he being weird? Osamu doesn’t know if you find it weird or not, but he does know that he doesn’t like Atsumu calling him out like that

“The fuck? I don’t do that, I don’t know what yer’re talking about” he says defensively, a useless attempt, really

“Ya liar! Ya haven’t stop looking at her this whole time!” Atsumu says again “No wonder ya have no fans, yer’re a weirdo”

“I’m not! Shut ya trap, ya asshat!” he says, feeling a slight hotness in his face

“Whatever, I will not allow ya to be useless right now” Atsumu says simply, walking towards the fence where you were standing “Oi! Yn-chan! Will ya go out with Osamu later?!”

He screams at you, making you blush and look back at Osamu, who also has a red face. Despite being embarrassed, you nod your head, receiving a bunch lf teasing remarks from your friends as Atsumu comes back to the team

“What was that for?!” Osamu screams at his brother

“There, got ya a date with her. Now, if ya keep playing bad I’ll ask the coach to replace ya” Atsumu answers, clearly too focus on the match to notice that he help his brother to have a date with the girl he likes

Osamu scoff slightly annoyed, however, it fully sinks in once he saw your happy, blushed face while Suna pats his back. He has a date with you, and he was excited for that, but now he has a practice match to focus on

Sakusa

“So like…Do you like her or something?” he hears Komori say besides him, making him turn his head towards him, a confused expression on his face. Who was Komori talking about?

“Why would you think that? How could you think that?” Sakusa asks. He seriously doesn’t get from where his cousin gain that idea, it’s not like he was doing anything in particular

“Because you keep staring at her like you’re in love or something” Komori says, pointing with his head to where you were, sitting on the other side of the classroom. Oh

Oh.

Everything suddenly just… clicked into Sakusa’s head, he was looking at you this whole time, your presence so relaxing that he didn’t even notice that he was staring at you. But then again, you always have manage to change his behaviors a little.

He recalls meeting you for a group project in where the teachers assigned the groups, and since you two where the only ones doing the job, he ended up finding you pleasant to be with. You two started to do homework together, which turn into you befriending Komori too, which somehow turn into you sometimes joining them for lunch or going to cheer them on their practice.

Soon enough your presence went from pleasant to likeable, which lead into him going to you from time to time. He didn’t understood a part of the lesson? He demanded you explain it to him. He received way too many gifts by his annoying fans? You’re the only person he even offers some of them before throwing them away. He was annoyed or anxious by the loud room? He always tries to find you there to feel at ease, because you always seem to find a way to calm him down. Like now, that you felt his eyes on you, which made you smile warmly to him, making all his worries disappear.

Komori was right. He’s in love with you.

He doesn’t even answer his cousin before standing up and going to your sit, with you receiving him with a playful yet worried smile.

“My practice ends at 6.00 pm today, wait for me” He says, it wasn’t an order but also wasn’t a question

“Yeah, I’ve nothing to do, thanks for asking” you say sarcastically, making him roll his eyes “Sure, I’ll wait. What for?”

“You’ll know later” he says before going back to his -smirking- cousin. It took him long enough to realize his feelings for you, he wasn’t going to take any longer to confess.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #kenma x reader #kenma x y/n #kenma imagine #kenma x you #kenma fluff #kenma hcs #osamu scenarios #osamu headcanons #osamu x reader #osamu x y/n #osamu x you #osamu fluff #osamu hcs #haikyuu osamu #sakusa imagines #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x you #sakusa x y/n #sakusa x reader #sakusa fluff #sakusa hcs #sakusa headcanons

[sensitive-neuvi-enthusiast]

Teach My Mouth a Lesson

Toji x fem!reader

Synopsis: You've caught the interest of your friend's sleazy dad. And he's caught yours.

Content: age gap (reader is mid 20s, toji is late 40s), self pleasure(toji), he's kinda mean, voyeuristic scene (reader watches toji)

Wc: 1.5k

Part Two

A cold iced coffee sat nestled in your hand, pulling it to your lips as you listened to your best friend complain. About her father no less. It was usually the same. "He only calls after I beg him to." And, "Can you believe he missed my birthday again?" You didn't really have room to comment, not having the best relationship with your own father. Plus it wasn't really new information, he was barely in her life as it was. "Doesn't he usually miss your birthday?" You commented and she only pouted. "I thought it'd be different this time." With a sigh, she fiddles with her drink before her eyes widen. "Let's go shopping!"

"Again?" You shook your head, bringing the cold, foamy liquid to your lips. It's not like you really had a say, her hands already wrapping around your arm as she tugged you, almost making you drop your coffee.

You spent the day in store after store, watching as she tried half the clothes on and only buying a handful. You got some cute things too but ultimately were a little more frugal with your money than she was. She was always spending whatever she made as soon as her paycheck was deposited. By the time you'd finished, the sun was setting and she was dragging you, yet again, to a bar. It's not that you were opposed to drinking, it just didn't take much to make you tipsy let alone full-on drunk. Which is exactly what happened.

Both your friend and you, hailing a cab as your combined giggles filled the chilly air. She managed to clumsily tell the driver her address before you two sang, off key, some random song that happened to be stuck in your head.

The cab came to an abrupt stop, the driver giving a glare to both of you before she randomly threw a few twenties at him as you fumbled out of the car. Giggling and bumping into each other as she barely managed to get her keys, it took four tries before she finally slotted it inside the lock. "Shhhh," she giggled. "I don't know if-hicc-my Dad's home." Your alcohol filled brain scoffed at the carefulness. "What's he gonna do?" You giggled, and she joined before she excused herself to the bathroom. You rested yourself against the kitchen counter, head hanging backwards as you watched the ceiling spin.

"The fuck are you?"

A deep voice swarmed into your ears, making you jump as you leaned your head forward. A tall, beefy man stood in front of you. Jet black hair that went in all sorts of directions. But that's not what you noticed first, no. He was shirtless. Thick muscles lined his torso, arms, and chest. Fuck, he was built. He snapped in front of your face, "Hello? Ya deaf? Who the fuck are you?" You swallowed the lump that'd formed in your throat as you tried to talk. Failing miserably. Your brain couldn't even process that this was more than likely your friend's dad. "The girl who lives here…her friend."

"That so?" He clicked his tongue as he ran a hand down his stubbled chin. "Told her not to bring loud ass troublemakers in here."

"Excuse me?" You answered, annoyance making its way into your voice. Standing now, your hands balled at your sides, trying your best to be intimidating. Kind of hard when the man you're trying to scare has at least a whole foot, maybe more, on you. "My house, my rules. Got a problem?" He sneered, looking down his nose at you. In your inebriated state, it only made you more annoyed. "Yeah actually. You can't talk to me like that. You don't know me." He scoffed, "Scuse me Princess, didn't mean to insult the invisible crown you put on that pretty little head of yours."

Your eyes widened, stomach filling with a warmth as it proceeded to do somersaults. What the fuck? Your body was betraying you but you weren't about to let this dick know that.

"Whatever," you responded back, crossing your arms. A smirk played its way onto his lips. You didn't like the look of that. "She come home with ya?" He walked into the kitchen, switching on the light and illuminating the area. Now you could truly see every dip and curve, bump of his muscle. Fuck, who sculpted him? The clink of a beer bottle being pulled from the fridge pulled you from your daze. "Bathroom. She's in the bathroom." He hummed, tipping his head back as he popped the lid off with his hand. His throat bobbed, a few drops of the liquor ran down his chin. But he made no attempts to wipe it off.

"Ya sure you're her friend? Feel like I woulda remembered a laugh that obnoxious."

And there he went again, he truly was as much of an asshole as your friend said. "Like you'd know, you're barely home. A real deadbeat." You crossed your arms, a sick angry feeling filling your gut. He didn't say anything, the silence was deafening until you heard heavy footsteps. Toji moved through the kitchen and stopped just in front of you. His fingers grasp your chin, causing you to gasp as you look up at him like a deer in headlights. "Got a mouth on ya.." His rough thumb pressed against your bottom lip. "Someone should fix that."

A loud crash sounded from the bathroom and he pulled away. "I swear to God, if she broke her fucking neck." Toji sighed, craning his neck to get a better look at the bathroom door. Which in turn, gave you a better look at him. Heat was radiating off his skin, his enormous pecs were practically the only thing in your line of vision. Soon the bathroom door slammed open and you hadn't noticed till now, but he'd moved back to behind the counter. "Shit," your friend giggled. "Hope that didn't wake up my-" She paused, eyes slowly blinking as she assessed the situation. "Dad!" She screamed, rushing over to wrap her arms around his neck. "Can't believe you forgot my birthday," she pouted. Leaving her father to roll his eyes, pushing her off him. "Ya get enough during the year, you don't need a celebration." Your friend only pouted more as she crossed her arms. "S'not fair." Her bottom lip wobbled but Toji didn't buy any of it. "Not gonna work," he replied, taking another generous swig of his alcohol.

"Ugh, asshole." She turned on her feet, heading up the stairs. He shook his head, "Bitch." And he only received a finger in response. What a strange dynamic.

"Ya gonna go with her or stare holes into me for the rest of the night?"

You blinked, eyes coming back into focus. "Like I'd stare at you." You tried your best to sound annoyed, ignoring the lingering heat you felt in your stomach. Had he really grazed your lip with his thumb like that? The feeling was still there. He only hummed, dragging his eyes up and down your body. "Just fucking keep it down ya?" Toji finished off his beer before crushing it, tossing it into the trash and headed back upstairs. And you finally felt yourself breathe for the first time.

'What the fuck?'

You thought, trying to shake it out of your mind as you went upstairs too. Giving about a minute or two after her dad had left, you trudged up the stairs. Any alcohol that was in your system had subsided, leaving you a fuzzy mess. And you couldn't help but sigh when you entered your friend's room, where you found her passed out, face down in the bed. With heavy limbs, you pulled yourself to her bed and laid down. Tugging some of the blankets before falling asleep.

It was roughly 2am when you woke up, the heavy weight of your friend's leg on your stomach had triggered the urge to go to the bathroom.

With a huff, you moved her off and walked out of the room. Eyes halfway closed as you walked to the bathroom. Doing your business with a yawn, sight and hearing both a little muffled and blurry from just waking up. After finishing up, you open the door only for you to pause. Low grunts and moans made their way into your ears. Curiosity burned and you softly shut the door, tiptoeing towards where the noise was coming from; the living room.

Holy fuck.

You quickly covered your mouth to prevent your thoughts from escaping your mouth. There, on the couch, was Toji. Hand slicked with spit as he stroked up and down his thick cock. God, it was huge. How did he even walk around with that thing? You wondered. You couldn't tear your eyes away. His rough thumb pressed against his slit, smearing the beads of pre that formed there around the tip. Long, thick, veins ran up the length, pulsing each time he ran his hand over them. You should stop watching. This was private…and he was an asshole! You reminded yourself. But your pussy had other ideas. Already, you could feel yourself get wet watching as the scene unfolded.

His head rested on the back of the couch. Teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he fucked his fist. You pressed your thighs together, easing the growing ache.

"Ya just gonna watch, or are you gonna join me?"

A/N: There will be a part 2, promise♡

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #toji zenin #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x you

[moooncats]

✿ Pick A Card : Your Toxic Traits ₍₍ (̨̡ ‾᷄ᗣ‾᷅ )̧̢ ₎₎ ✿

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✿ Pile 1 ✿

Popular Loner

Detatched as fuuuuck. 💀 Oof pile 1, I'm hearing you convey the same energy as an Aquarius/Libra. You don't have to be that particular sign, but you do display simmilar traits. With that pile 1, you are very smart and you know that in some situations your words may cut like a knife... and yet you still full send them lmfao. This pile is goofy af, on top of that you are very hard to get a hold of. Deadass I'm seeing you tend to fall off the face of the planet, then randomly reactivate your social media's and positing again to see who missed you or whats buzzing. 🐝 ✨️ I'm hearing "Whats the tea 🍵?¿" Your card Pile 1 was the Queen of Swords. Althought it may seem like a favorful card, this is actually far from the truth. You are so in touch with your logic based brain that you are failing when it comes to connecting to your own emotions. They are turned off so you can percieve things as they actually are and continue to stay on the high pedstal that you put yourself on. Pile 1, I'm seeing here that so many people want to collaborate with you, but you love them at a distance. You rarely do anything else that isn't hanging out with your family doing errands, or working and stacking up silently. This may also be my piles who work from home. You prefer to be secluded in your own energy and most don't know that much about you. You may also be very "vocal" when it comes to your social media. This can lead to "trolling" or "fights" that happen. Pile 1 lets be honest, you like to stir the pot lmfao. Messsyyyy.

✿ Advice From Spirit ✿

Your Angel guides and spirits think you'll grow out of this phase. So that's good news right there pile 1. You may be on the Younger side, or have a youthful way of thinking. Honestly, you as a person is very likable. You tend to gravitate people towards you just from vibes alone, and people love that about you. I'm hearing, "You need to rationalize better, and use honesty in your everyday life with straightfowardness". With this type of living, your encounters will become enriched with trust from your own judgment and maintain integrity in your day to day life. I'm also hearing "Be there for people more, open up your boundaries and live life day by day, be present". Once you genuinely want to spend time with more people, you will reach the point of your life where you can be of guidance to others. Just like how the Queen of Swords was. Less Arguments, and more Growth. 🌱 (:

Channeled Songs:

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✿ Pile 2 ✿

Fight Club

"THANK GOD I AIN'T HAVE TO SMACK A B**** TODAY"

Why do you feel the need to even have to fight if you'll always come out right in the end? Like whats the use... I'm seeing someone who likes to get receipts, facts, everythinggggg before they start to go psycho mode and yell at people to defend their own ideals. Pile 2, your card was 5 of Swords. I'm hearing Smack a Bitch by Rico Nasty.

Especially when she say's "Don't work at MAC, but I'll beat a bitch's face". Bwahahaha Pile 2 you are fighters let's go! It reminds me of something my gamer girl friend always says "Violence is always the answer". While it may seem true to you; ya do know that sometimes it's better to let things settle and silence is always an answer as well? Why must you add more flames into the conversation just to set everything and everyone on fire? Contemplate on that thought pile 2 lmfao. You may think that you're very defensive and you wouldn't hurt a fly but babyyyy Tarot ain't lying here Lmao. Lemme call you out (with love ofc haha ♡). Pile 2 you are seen as a hot pan. Filled with oil and if one spec of water touches you, you'll go ape shit hahah. People around you have learned to just keep you happy and fed so you don't go all aggro on them. They know you hold grudges secretly until you kinda just dgaf then full send all those emotions that were held deep inside. Honey, you have to do some shadow work before you make everyone around you run. Trust me being lonely is not a flex. As human beings, we need to be surrounded by each other to function properly.

✿ Advice From Spirit ✿

Please look within yourself and ask for help from your loved ones. I'm hearing "We just want to know that you are okay". Giiiiirl, soooo many people are trying to reach out to you- yet you give them the cold shoulder and take on all this pain as your own... it is not. You are amazing, wonderful, LOVED. You have people around you who want to help, let them pile 2. I'm seeing that they are your soul tribe, and they will help you through the grief and pain you are going through. Your Angel Guides and Spirits want you to gain Fortitude during these times, it is great to be resillient and compassionate during these times. They also want me to bring up shadow work. It will help you a lot on your jouney here on earth. Please start journaling all those past trauma's so they can heal and you can be more level headed and yourself. (: Heres a hug pile 2, you'll get through it one day. ♡

Channeled Songs:

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✿ Pile 3 ✿

Depersonalization

You are it baby. Honey, You're a star did you know that?

All eyes are on you. You may have already known that from a young age, but I'm seeing here that you tend to dim your light so others can shine more. Why do you do that? Stars are meant to be seen. You are supposed to be guiding people, but instead you're making others guide randoms and they have nothing in common? Lmfao I'm seeing you being extremely friendly to everyone and when one bad person says something wrong about you, your whole friend group is broken up cause you trusted too easily and you made someone else their star. Giiiiirl get it together. You are deadass the main character without even trying, yet you feel insecurities that aren't even there. Seriously who says one star is better than the other? They are all equally beautiful. And like a snowflake, no two are like the other. Your card was The Star pile 3. ⭐️✨️ You are constantly putting bad eggs on the pedastal while you reduce yourself down to less than that of dirt. It's so sad to hear and see pile 3. People can clearly see that you are insecure, and you like to hold feelings like jealousy because you feel a sense of incomplete. Oof that was really deep pile 3, please let me know if I hit a nerve. This is coming from love I promise. ♡♡♡

✿ Advice From Spirit ✿

Pile 3, never let your dreams die. You know that you are on the right path when you are following it with clear conscice intentions. Your spirit already knows what to do. Just tap into your intuition and follow it. Embrace your unique talents and always let them shine brightly. Have faith in the universe and you will forever shine brightly like a star in the night sky. ♡ Please start listening to empowering songs that will make you feel amazing and great. I added in two from my playlist for you pile 3. Please make sure to read the lyrics and use it as a daily affirmation. You will 100% feel the difference in 2 weeks max. ♡

Channeled Songs:

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Mahalo for reading this! If you enjoyed it please leave a like and comment down below. Comments always make my day honestly. ♡ I hope what I said did not offend people. It was advice sent from spirit with love. ♡ You are all amazing, wonderful, rad individuals! (: Remember to drink and stay hydrated baby bats! 🦇 ^-^ Moooncats out! 🚀⭐️✨️

#baby witch #intuition #intuitive #pac #pick a card #tarot #tarotreading #tarotblr #tarot blog #moooncatstarot #free tarot #witchblr #SoundCloud #Spotify

[jinkiezzsstuff]

Rivalry To Romance

velvette x f!reader

Summary: You worked in cosmetics at the Vee tower alongside Velvette, unfortunately you’ve never gotten along. You found her obnoxious and she found you to be a pest. However you struggle with yourself on whether you truly hate her or just can’t accept your true emotions.

Warnings: Fem reader, reader throws things again so does velvette, valentinos presence yuck, suggestive but nothing serious. No mention of readers hairtype, bodytype or skin colour, shorter than i originally wanted womp but I think that’s it but lmk

Word count: 2.5k

we need more velvette i love her so much and there’s like no info on her character or back story at least that i could find woomp womp im trying clear up what i have drafted but sheesh im so picky and a perfectionist about it i wish i was a writing machine that it could come directly out of my brain like i see it y’know?

“I fucking hate her!” You screeched tossing make up across the room at your assistant. “Please, calm down, my head hurts.” Angel whined from your couch as you paced around him, your assistant booking it after the second thing, that being a vase, was thrown.

“I can't, she's intolerable, seriously. A brat.” You grit plopping down onto the cushion beside him. The two of you were in the Vee tower, you being what Velvette would call ‘the shadow of the vees’, you got in on the triangle based on accessibility; for the Vees that is. You were a cosmetic creator and produced varying products for demons of all kinds, not only was it beneficial for Valentino's pornstars but Velvette’s models.

When you were a self employed business it was still very lucrative, and getting around quickly. Gaining the opportunities to work with overlords, sinners you never expected as well as selling and gaining quicker than you could’ve imagined. It wasn’t long until Velvette had caught onto the rage, and that’s how you ended up in the tower working alongside her.

It was terrible from the start; you weren’t some meek little demon, yet Velvette treated you like you were some Imp! You hated her bratty, disrespectful loud mouth and you never failed to let her know.

BIting your nails down too low without realizing, Angel grabbed your hand successfully stopping you, and leaned forward. “Hey listen I know how it is to have a sucky boss. Heh, literally.” Angel snickered to himself while you muttered that she wasn’t your boss. “But if i’m being honest, it sounds like sexual frustration,” He twiddled his fingers at you while a sly smile pulled at his lips.

You gaped at him, head falling forward in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me, hah, no fucking way dude!” You exclaimed, leaning back, you sighed frustrated at the conversation. “Oh shit, gotta go toots, boss is calling. Thanks for letting me up, see ya later.”

You waved by to Angel watching him go. Sitting with your elbows on your knees you stared off into space. Sure you suppose you admired her, sure, she was pretty, occasionally sure you’d check her out admiring how the clothes fit her, but that was purely platonic! Velv was a fashion designer, of course she knows how to accentuate her natural beauty.

And perhaps there were times when you couldn’t quite decide what you felt for her questioning your intentions second guessing your actions. Sometimes as you gazed at her while she worked, you wanted to ease her up a little, relax her from the stress whether that be from praise, a gentle rub or kiss, or something a little more promiscuous; you simply wanted to be her relief.

Other times you wanted to fight her and bitch her out, and then fuck her? You actually didn’t know and it drove you insane, but Angel was the first to spot the way you acted, overly aggressive.

You groaned, frustration emitted from you very clearly as you tugged at your hair. Standing you walk quickly toward Velvette’s and yours’ work sections on the tower's mid floor. Velvette stood at a table when you walked in, she only barely turned her head to you, too busy studying fabrics and colours.

“What’s the pretentious brat got cooking today?” You say walking up beside her looking down at the table. Rolling her eyes she turned to you hand on her hip. “Can you piss off? I’ve got shit to do, real work, not lazing around with a whore.”

Rolling your eyes right back at her, you looked down to the table. “Angels no more of a whore than that filthy moth.” You muttered fingering the fabrics, eyes dancing around the blueprints for an outfit.

“What’re these for?” You ask, meeting her gaze, a bored look plagued her face, but she loosened up slightly at the mention of her work. “These are the new blueprints for our outfits for the upcoming broadcast Vox has planned. He wants to market tech, pornos, clothing and your cosmetics so everything’s gotta be right.”

Velvette looked down harshly at the things laid out in front of her, you could see the gears working in her head as her eyes flicked around the different blueprints, fabrics and rough drafts. You hummed, flicking through a particular set of blueprints that caught your eye. “I’m sure you’ll do great hun, always do.” You muttered absentmindedly, barely focusing on the praise that came from your lips.

Velvette’s head jerked back a bit, eyes watching you. She wasn’t expecting such softly said words to come from you so suddenly, but she definitely didn’t mind it. “Do you want something specific?” Looking toward her you shrugged, trying to ignore the yearning you had to be nearer.

“Just a dress, suppose the only request I have is that I look the part.” You didn’t mean for it to come off sad however, it did, and Velvette felt the rare sting of guilt ping past her heart. She was in fact the one who fought with you the most on who was worthy in the tower, but she always felt you were trying to replace her as “the guru”.

The fight you had earlier was present in your mind as you stood there, it was dumb another thing that sent you spiralling. You stomped off and straight into Angel, thank goodness for that because his presence calmed you surprisingly. The fight was about time slots with models, mainly because one model had been held up by Velvette because she was being a snooty princess again about what the model wore, meanwhile time was ticking on how much time you had to do said model's makeup.

Which ended up spiralling into a screaming cat fight, where you tossed things at her and she tossed them back slinging a slew of colour insults at you as she did so. Normally you and Velvette never apologised but as you stood there beside her looking over stuff you felt as though the moment of peace was close enough to an apology.

“Do you really wanna go to this?” You asked breathing in deeply, catching hints of her perfume that left a warm familiar feeling in your chest. “Hm not really, but we have to.” Picking up navy blue colours, she stacked the square fabrics together.

Swallowing you ask; “What’s your favourite colour?” Stunned Velvettes hands stalled their actions, her eyes meeting yours. You were waiting looking neutrally at her, you simply wanted to know. It was easy to see Voxs was arrays of blues, Val’s pink and red, you fancied emerald and sea greens, and her.. you didn’t know, hot pink?

“I fancy whites, purples, plums…” Trailing off finger to her mouth in thought, she nodded one sternly. “White and plum.” You smile ever so slightly it was a decent conversation for sure. But it definitely didn’t help you inner fight about your feelings for her.

~

Today was the day of the broadcast, the lot of you ventured to Valentinos floor of the tower, doing it up for a big show. There were tons of tables set up, lighting, cameras; the porn stars were done up thanks to you and Velv, they sat on a plush couch their section was going to be an ‘interview with the stars’ no doubt being entirely fake lies. Angel was a part of the cast, much to your dismay, you’d rather him be far from Valentino, but that wasn’t possible. Another area was new improved tech, with tech nerds ready to present and push the new models Voxtech had made.

Off to the back was Velvette’s section where various manikins stood cladded in Velvette’s best work, there were also models present around waiting to pose with the manikins. Your area felt blander than the rest, your cosmetics sat on varying different platforms that lifted them aesthetically, and you had a few head models with you, cameras focused in on only their eyes and lips for the occasional shot. In the middle of the room was where you, Velvette, Vox and Valentino would be.

The lot of you were going to be standing tall with wide smiles, the only one who was set to talk was Vox, the rest of you were just their to claim name to your things. Velvette was running around taking Sinstagram stories and pictures of everything around, building anticipation and hype for everything to come.

You watched her bounce around every now and again yelling at a worker or model about their place here, before getting back to puttering around. She wore a white dress with hearts at the bottom, and her hair was done up in a classic poof instead of her straightened pigtails. “Admiring the goods?” Angel asks, scaring the shit out of you, gasping you grabbed your chest in shock. “Fuck Angel don’t do that to me, and ye- wait what?”

Angel cackled an accusatory finger pointed to you. “Oh cmon! Even Val knows you’re into her, and that’s him.” You stared in disbelief before shaking your head no rapidly. “How would he even know? We barely spend time near each other, I hate him more than Velv.”

Angel scoffed, crossing two sets of his arms he leant against the wall next to him. “Please Velvette’s always ranting about how annoying you are over the phone, telling Val when Vox is probably too sicka her to hear it! Then she goes off saying how you can’t be nice and how you always make it a mission to come and pester er’ and Val said it’s because you wanted to fuck her!” Angel exclaimed slyly leaning forward into you and than backward away.

“That’s not true, we just can’t get along.” Like the devil heard your words, Velvette skipped up to you three, pulling the two of you into her. “Alright! The bitches! That’s more like it!” Velvette shouted, snapping a picture, Angel defaulted to his actor ways posing lustfully at the camera, meanwhile you just smiled unbelievably at Velvette. Once the picture was taken she wasted no time stepping back and sending off the post with a series of different hashtags.

“You look happy today?” You ask more than say watching Velvette smile around the room. “Of course people have stayed quiet, and not been a dickhead all day. Not to mention Vox and Val aren’t in moods.” You nodded in agreement, eyes casting briefly over to the TV who walked around checking the different cameras while Val smoked in the back.

Angel not so subtly snuck off giving your back a shove closer towards Velvette. Even if you could admit to yourself you felt more than platonic emotions for her, it would be extremely hard to accept it or attempt to make a move when you didn’t even know her sexuality.

She’d never seemed interested in Vox or Valentino, but you’ve not seen her eyeing women either. It made you more uncomfortable to ponder the future of accepting your feelings when you could just be cruel and ignore them. “What’s up with you spacey?” Velvette suddenly asked her phone off facing toward the floor.

You anxiously fiddled with your short dress wondering if now would be a good time to start something. “Nothing Velvette, just nerves i guess.” Velvette rolled her eyes, shaking her head disapprovingly. “You’ll be fine, always are anyways. We don’t do shit, it’s all Vox.”

Fair enough. Although that’s true it didn’t really matter considering it wasn’t what was really bothering you. “Are you straight?” You blurt suddenly, hand jerking upward to cover your mouth. Velvette’s eyebrow raised a ‘huh’ falling from her lips.

With a decision in mind, you couldn’t deny it, knowing that even Val saw something you know how you can’t hide it. The daydreams you have of her warm skin next to yours in the morning, the friendship you wish you had, the desire to have her lipstick smeared against your lips, wanting to post cheesy couple pictures together all over Sinstagram.

“Uhh, yeah, are you straight because I haven’t ever seen you around anybody, like, ahem, that.” You stutter out staring at her trying to gauge every little emotion on her face. “Suppose I could be considered, but i fuck who i want no matter the package.” She finally replied, returning to herself after spacing out, looking calmer than you.

“Would ya fuck me?” Scratching the back of your neck as her eyes scanned your face rapidly, trying to read you, trying to tell if you were serious. “Yeah, if you weren’t such a bitch.” You hum watching her once more, this time she looked a little meeker, shifting from foot to foot, her gaze casted downward.

“And what about love? Y’know not just wanting to have a hook up?” You asked a little apprehension evident in your voice, you craned your neck back trying to distance yourself subconsciously.

Softly you felt Velvettes gentle hand on your shoulder, focusing all your attention on her, you watched as her face turned out to the side, only looking at you through her peripheral. Her other hand crawled up to your other shoulder, before drifting softly to your neck, sending shivers down your spine and straight to your toes.

Velvette was still at fully extended arms length, so you stepped forward, cupping her cheeks gently like she was made of the fragilest material. Now eye to eye the two of you simply stared waiting, while invading eachothers space. Cautiously you leaned forward thankfully being her height, you hand your eyes closed already hoping she’d get the message, and either pull away running or indulge.

You were more than shocked to feel her lipstick covered lips meet with yours, soft yet eager. You kissed her back slowly, trying to convey the emotions and feelings you felt without speaking, the apology you wanted to say but didn’t know how.

Pulling you closer by the neck, you fell into her slightly, wrapping your arms around her like she was your world, fully absorbed in the passionate kiss you were sharing. Just as the kiss turned slightly heated, tongues introducing and slipping past the barrier of eachothers mouth Vox screamed. “You’ve got Velvettes makeup on your face, FUCK, why?! Why?! Five minutes before we’re live!” Jumping apart the two of you looked toward Vox who was already glitching out, meanwhile Val just stood smuggly sucking his pipe.

“Don’t worry he’s just mad that he now owes me one hundred dollars, losers weepers,” Val breathed his smoke wafting around the TV’s head. Velvette threw the bird at Vox before turning to you pulling out a handkerchief. “Weren’t you calling someone geriatric, now you’re pulling out handkerchiefs?” You teased, her hand coming up to wipe her black lipstick that stained your face.

“Oh piss off, or we’re both fired,” She scolded but there was no malice in her words like before making your heart flutter. “So how long before this gets out, our little before the air make out sesh?” You inquire as she handed the cloth to you, you wiping her smeared lipstick just as she did for you. “Based on the vibrations from my phone, not long.”

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oneshots #hazbin hotel vees #hazbin hotel velvette x reader #velvette x reader #hazbin velvette #hazbin velvette x reader #velvette x you #hazbin hotel x you

[bakubunny]

a/n: some comfort fluff for all my babes who struggle with existing because their bodies and brains are sometimes broken.

tags: pro hero!bakugou, fem!reader, disabled!reader, neurological disorders, muscle spasms, speech problems, anxiety, cuddling, pet names, l-bomb, soft!bakugou, hurt/comfort i guess??

“hey, princess,” katsuki said as he walked in the front door. he glanced and saw you curled up on the livingroom couch, the volume on the television low.

you didn’t respond. everything was hazy and hard to process. your body was too heavy. words wouldn’t form. katsuki was home; you heard him. you were scared. and that’s all your mind could hold.

“babe?” he took off his boots.

you groaned quietly. he looked back over to you and watched your eyes roll.

“shit,” katsuki muttered. he quickly dropped the rest of his gear at the door and knelt in front of you, running a hand over your head. “hey, baby, ‘m right here.”

you could smell him now - a mixture of fire, burnt sugar, and sweat - and it was soothing. with eyes shut, your brows drew together slowly as he waited for a response; your speech was almost unintelligible. "i-i'mm... o-kay."

his lips tightened. "bullshit. how long have you been like this, hmm?"

"i... don' know.... a w-while," you said.

fucking great. knowing you, that could mean anything.

"why didn't you call me?" he asked. before the words left his lips, he knew why you didn't call. he was on patrol. it was a saturday. you were safe at home. but he still told you to call when it got bad just so he could hear your voice and know you were okay.

"'m ffine, k-kats," you replied. as if to prove his point that you weren't, a muscle spasm ripped through your body.

"baby...." katsuki sighed.

you could hear the pain in his voice.

once it passed, he kissed you on the head. "did ya get your meds yet, hun?"

you shook your head no. with a disgruntled sigh and another kiss, he left and returned. shortly after, he lifted you from the couch into his arms despite your objections.

"p-put me d-down.... you st-stink," you said as your head lolled into his chest.

katsuki grinned a little as he carried you to the bedroom. "tch. you love it."

he was right and you both knew it. some might have thought it odd, but to you, katsuki coming home after a long day at work was a scent you'd never tire of. he laid you down in bed and squeezed your hand before stepping away.

you groaned and reached for his hand. "don' leave me."

"lemme get my costume off, sweets. 'm right here," he said with a little laugh.

now you were the one grumbling rather than him, waiting for his touch to return. once he was more comfortable in a cutoff shirt and soft shorts, katsuki climbed under the covers with you.

“y’ gonna st-stink up… the b-bed,” you complain.

“i can change the sheets. quit your whinin’ and lemme hold you,” his tone was irritated, but worry returned to his face as another muscle spasm rolled in and you panicked.

“k-kats…”

he pulled you into his arms and held you close, running a hand over your head.

“it’s okay. i’m here. you’re okay. i love you,” he said softly.

“‘m scared,” you said as you clung to him, tears welling in your eyes.

“i know, princess. ‘s gonna be over soon, promise.” his grip tightened around you. “i love you. i love you so much.”

words failed you again as tears fell. katsuki’s soft voice filled your head.

“i love you, baby…. i love you. i love you. i love you….”

#it’s me #i’m babes #not expecting anyone to relate but if you do i’m sending you love #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #boku no hero #bakugou katsuki #millennialmagicalgirl #bnha smut #mha smut #x reader #fem!reader #bakugou x reader #bnha comfort #bakugou comfort #comfort fluff #neurological disorders #aged up characters #disabled!reader

[ronearoundblindly]

Fire & Ice (a RoAR drabble)

Flufftober Day 12, Ransom Drysdale x rich!Reader (see series)

I blame @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory and @brandycranby for encouraging HughSaison. This is fairly loosely related to the prompt but there are a bunch of temperature references/illusions. 🤷🏻‍♀️Hey, I did my best. -> While I'm at it, does anyone want to own up (privately) to being the person who first asked about rich!Reader over a year ago??? I always wonder if that anon is still reading 🥹

Uhhh, angst with a fluffy ending... yeah, yeah, Ro loves writing arguments, we get it.

Warnings: If you've never read my Ransom before, beware. He curses like an angry sailor, inside and outside of his brain. Plus super suggestive language/mentions of sex. LOTS of dialogue. Zero editing. MINORS DNI. WC 1.8k

He cannot fucking believe it's come to this.

"Don't you fucking dare," he snips. “You cannot use a veto. You put me in charge.”

He watches you walk calmly, put away a dish calmly, sit at his couch calmly.

"I've made my decision, and that's final."

"Fuck you." Ran means it, but in his own way. "You said I could choose--"

"Not that," you say, so calmly, too fucking calmly for someone who managed to turn Ransom Drysdale into this, this thing that cares about something so petty for all the wrong--or just different--reasons.

He stretches to his full height and sucks on his tongue for a moment.

You continue to scroll through your phone.

He never thought he’d get married but he’s always loved a good party. Since the ring's not flashy, he wants you in the tiara. He hasn’t given you the ring yet either because…well, because it’s been less than a year and you practically live on the other side of the planet. Call him old-fashioned, but Ransom wants to be home for all the big things. He can plan a damn party though—and the look to match— whenever the hell he wants and for however long he wants.

At length in the quiet, he asks, "why not?"

"Because it's ridiculous, and I'm saying 'no.' Veto."

"You don't get vetoes for--" Ran smothers his frustration, but barely. "Does this have to do with...money? Because you know I’m not talking millions of dollars in real diamonds or something.” But, ya know, he’s expecting a couple hundred thou between colored and semi-precious stones, plus the setting in—would gold or platinum work best for your skin? Grandma Thrombey’s ring is made of yellow gold. Ran guesses he should match that.

The false calm never lifts from you.

Eyes icy and blank, you look at him while his plans keep running amuck. "No."

Two letters. One word. He fucking hates it.

"You'll look beautiful," he yells in annoyance.

The phone drops on the leather couch. "I'm not wearing a crown to be married in. It'll look pretentious, ostentatious. I won't do it and that's that."

"It's a tiara," Ran corrects, "and with a veil, it's near invisible. It’ll include the wedding colors with the stones."

"No."

His blood starts to boil. Don't say it, don't say it, he thinks fleetingly but fails.

"Says the woman with shit taste."

Slowly, calmly, coldly, you walk over to him, stretching to your full height, holding his gaze. You’re wearing one of his sweaters again and nothing else. That’s his favorite look, but only for him.

It’s winter outside, the heater turned up so that your naked skin stays comfortable. You stay comfortably exposed all the time, when he has his way. Comfort is king in Ran’s house. 

Despite being exposed though, he can see how you've made it so far in business—in life—even with shitty taste. Your poker face rivals champions, and you are stalwart in your dedication. There's a hard (and hardening) edge to your simple, sly grin.

You take a deep breath in,  a whiff of him, a sample for assessment.

"Poor--" you sigh "--boy."

His teeth grind together, jaw tight as a vice. How dare you.

Ran's petty, spiteful even when he tries so damn hard to keep it together, and the wound of disinheritance is still fresh enough he cannot abide that sting.

"Burn in hell."

You don’t take the bait and simply cock your head, waiting for his guilty meltdown. So far, he does this at least once a week, sometimes multiple times a day. It bothers you, you’ve told him, that he questions everything instantly, that he can’t trust you or your feelings or his surroundings, that he panics over the idea of ever having to get a job, but it’s also great ammunition against a man-child.

The grin never leaves your lips. You're in fine fighting form tonight. Ran shouldn't have tangoed.

"Go fuck some bimbo's ass."

Oh.

Oh, you bitch.

That's low.

Ransom's face contorts. "It was one time," he gripes, "and we weren't even dating."

Your palm lies flat against his chest. "We'd slept together several times, and you even volunteered for me by then so..."

Ran grabs your hips and brings you close, avoiding your gaze while hoping you keep looking at him, cooling him down, evening his hot temper.

"Of course," you add casually, "that wasn't the first time you did that, was it?"

This is where it gets tricky for him. Ran never had a real relationship before you--not even his 'bond' with his parents compares--but old habits die hard.

He shoves at your hips, spinning you two until your back hits the glass block window between the house and the bare woods outside.

His head ducks to mirror the angle of yours. "Doesn't have to be the last either."

"Hugh," you warn, as threatening as wind across his cheek.

He's gonna regret this. He knows he will, but curiosity gets the better of him.

"Tell me. Tell me why you don't want to wear something gorgeous and fancy for an occasion where you are meant to be gorgeous and fancy."

The turn in your expression is pronounced. He didn't expect you to be more alarmed by his caring than his come-ons.

"Bad form," you finally admit. "Some rich bitch thinks she's a princess. Looks really bad."

"You are rich. You are a--"

"Careful..."

"--I'm saying 'princess.' Calm down," he says to the perfectly, eerily calm woman in his arms. "Would you just fucking let me compliment you?"

Ran fiddles with some hair around your ear, noting proudly how your eyes droop shut slightly at the smallest touch from him. He likes that you respond to him, his distance, his fury, his doubt, and his passion. You make feeling okay. You are his safe space since you've seen him at his lowest.

You see him.

There's very few things in life that make more sense to Ransom than his wife will be the one who sees him and he lets see him. Everyone else and everything else can piss off.

God, he fucking hates that he loves you so much. Why won’t you just wear the fucking crown? You’ve earned it; you’re the one who conquered his demons, not Ran.

He could buy it anyway, have your veil sown straight on it, not give you the chance to argue, or he could take you out to shop, put one in your hands, knock it onto the floor, and claim ‘you break it, you bought it.’ Problem solved, but he’s a petty bitch.

He tucks the edge of his lip into his cheek.

He should be less of a petty bitch.

“What do you want?” Ran asks. “What’s it gonna take?”

He keeps his sharp eyes locked to yours, watching understanding shrink your once-dilating pupils

Change in demeanor. “Oh my god.”

Aaaand there’s the regret. “Don’t make a big deal—“

“HOLY SHIT.”

“It’s not—I’m just—“

“Hugh Fucking Drysdale?! Trying to compromise??? I’ve see it all now.”

“Stop,” he whines, dropping his head to your squirming chest.

“Wait—” you whip out of his arms and hustle back to the couch, retrieving your phone “—do it again.”

He’s too lost in staring up the sweater as you bend over to notice right away.

“Are you filming me?” Disgusting. Childish. Petty, just like him. Maybe he’s had more influence on you than he realized.

“Your face is priceless.”

“Give me that.” Ran doesn’t put much effort into reaching the phone. He would rather win for his cause. “Seriously, what do you want?”

The arm held up falls lax. He has a clear view of your home screen, so you weren’t taking a video. You just wanted to tease him. Fuck, you love to tease him.

Dramatically, your hand frames your chin in thought. “Well, I don’t want something that extravagant to go to waste, but it won’t go with every outfit…”

“No, not with colored stones,” Ran says absently. He guesses you want to get more use out of it. Gross.

“Okay, my compromise is whenever I wear it, you treat me like a princess, or perhaps, your queen.”

“Uh, sure,” he snorts. You already get treated better than any woman he’s ever known…by him, of course. He’s vaguely aware that some people do even more than the bare minimum, but those are other people. Baby steps.

“If that tiara is on my head, Hugh, you become a perfect and adoring gentleman.”

Ran wrinkles his nose. “What?”

“You heard me. That’s my compromise. Dress me that way and you have to treat me like royalty.”

“Like…” He rushes forward to sweep you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and thrusting his hips. “Princess Pussy?”

“Ran. Ew, no.”

“Queen Cunt?” Heh, he chuckles, King Comfort and Queen Cunt. No, don’t say that out loud.

You gag slightly. “Super not what I meant.”

“You’re already going to marry me, but you want me to worship you? No fucking way.” Ransom flat-out laughs.

“How did you get worship out of ‘treat me nicely?’” Your arms tighten around his neck, pulling your faces closer.

He exaggerates a groan. “I don’t know. That’s asking a lot.”

“Oh, right,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “Just keep on being shitty…even to your future wife. What could possibly go wrong?”

He huffs.

Ran is passionate about making you look good, not just because you are on his arm. Sure, he probably focuses on all the wrong things—all the selfish things,—but you easily think of the big picture and completely forget about yourself.

That’s already a balance. That’s already a big compromise.

And yet…

Ran’s looking at your face and admiring your playfulness when he could be ordering you to unzip his pants. He’s more excited to see you decked out pretty things than he is to say he dressed you. He’s concerned with how you refuse to spend money for you even though you’ve put no restrictions on him. That’s…that’s just a different Ransom Drysdale. That’s a man he wouldn’t recognize if he weren’t watching his reflection in your eyes.

Ran pecks a gentle kiss to your waiting lips.

“Okay, princess,” he coos, his arms snaking tighter over your back and his fingers plunging into your hair. He keeps you close, noses touching, hot breath mingling. “Shh, shhh.”

He hears the faintest whine escape you, and he just can’t help himself. He’s a petty bitch.

“Don’t worry, princess. I’ll fuck your ass.”

🙈🙇🏻‍♀️😝

sorry not sorry.

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @starkleila

[Main Masterlist; The Root of All Ransom Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

#the root of all ransom #ransom drysdale x you #flufftober 2023 #day 12 #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale fluff #ransom drysdale smut #kinda

[lefaystrent]

Primal Urges

Fandom: Thomas Sanders, Sanders Sides

Pairings: hints of Prinxiety

Warnings: prospective cannabilism, temporary character death

Summary: Virgil specifically remembers dying, and yet he still lives. Now with a hankering for people meat.

__________________________________________

Virgil didnt crave human flesh before he died.

He craved lots of things in life: pasta, oreos, midnight reruns of Friends, mental stability. Ya know, healthy normal things.

Then again, taste buds do change every seven years. And people, canonically, do taste like beef. So what's more irrisitible than the American Dream?

Burgers. The American dream is burgers.

Big juicy burgers just begging to be ripped into with teeth. Burgers that would splatter bloody goodness. Rare burgers that would slide down his throat in a warm heady rush. Something raw to fill the emptiness within his gut that growled its demands to be sated.

Yes, normal healthy cravings.

That's why Virgil found himself sitting there downing a bottle of bourbon. He tried in vain to push away memories of his recent death experience while waiting for the intense urge of NOM NOM to subside.

"How long does this usually take?" Virgil asked, looking inside the empty bottle as if he might find more.

The bartender looked askance at the other two empty bottles sitting beside Virgil. "The alcohol poisoning you mean? Just how long have you been here?"

Virgil blinked at the handsome man before him decked out from head to toe in black. That was his kind of man. "Oh, maybe it did work. I don't remember seeing you back there."

"My shift just started," said the man, and 'Roman' said the name tag on his pristine black polo shirt. He had that face on his face like he was trying to smile, just how the relentless years of customer service taught you, but was failing completely. The farthest he got was moderately bewildered mixed with borderline awe.

"Hm, nice," Virgil said, because really there was nothing else to say. Especially when all Virgil's brain could scream at him for the moment was, Look at that arm! Bite it, rawr!

Virgil shook his head. Damn primal needs.

"Maybe I should switch to tequila," he grumbled.

"Maybe you wanna slow down," Roman advised. "You've had enough to down an elephant. Look, you've even spilt some on yourself."

Virgil looked down obligingly and couldn't help but laugh at the stain on his own shirt. "Oh that. Yeah that's not my drink, it's blood."

Roman's stance didnt change but his eyes were definitely more focused. Virgil wondered if he imagined the sound of a heartbeat speeding up.

Primal brain said, Fresh meat fears us. Fresh meat shall be tasty. *insert evil laugh here*

To clarify, Virgil raised a hand to stop the bartender from calling for help. "Don't worry, it's my blood."

Virgil did not think the clarification helped much. He should try again.

"Listen," Virgil lowered his voice a little, as much as you can in a bar and still be heard. He leaned forward a bit but the bartender most certainly did not. "I died this morning. It's been a really weird day."

"Ah," Roman nodded slowly, and at least his heartbeat slowed marginally. He even chanced a curve of the lips. "Far be it from me to question coping mechanisms. Normally I might ask if you're sure you don't need medical assistance, but you appear abnormally...fine, all things considered."

"You look pretty tasty yourself," Virgil purred and promptly slapped a hand over his mouth.

Did all of his self control die as well? Sheesh. Someone end him properly, please.

It's not like you weren't thinking it, Primal Brain supplied helpfully.

Luckily for all of Virgil's sanity, Roman took the compliment in stride. He laughed, "Well, clean clothes do go a long way."

"I meant to get changed before, I swear, I just..."

"Weird day," Roman finished for him. He nodded politely and smiled in a way that made Virgil want to eat his face off. Literally.

"You should probably go help other customers," Virgil word-vomited. "Or get me more bourbon. Or tequila. Or hell, wine if it'll do anything for me. Maybe everclear."

Roman chuckled again, "I'll make my rounds, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut you off dear. Even if you seem sober enough, the evidence suggests otherwise."

Adding insult to injury, Roman slipped him a glass of water before he left. Virgil watched the liquid settle to stillness in the clear cup and felt absolutely no desire to drink it.

We want blood. Blood! Primal Brain roared inside him.

Virgil put his head in his hands and wondered how he got into this mess.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #cannibalism #death #temporary character death #primal urges #writing #fanfiction #think i might write more on this #disclaimer i dont know if bartenders have nametags #i can count on one hand the amount of bars ive been too #and i never talked to the bartender

[adelaidedrubman]

wip wednesday actually doing it and everything!

i was tagged today by @direwombat @socially-awkward-skeleton @trench-rot and last week by @wrathfulrook @g0dspeeed @jacobsneed @inafieldofdaisies to share a wip! sending fresh tags out to the last week crew and also to @henbased @unholymilf @florbelles @derelictheretic @shallow-gravy @poetikat @ishwaris @confidentandgood @roofgeese @voidika @nuclearstorms @corvosattano @jackiesarch @schoute @strafethesesinners @a-far-cry-from-my-main and filler @ head empty mutuals pls tag me if u wanna post placeholder

wildfire chapter 18 is very slowly chugging along, and we are still in the henbane era. so warnings for disturbing hallucinations, violence, gore, death, general grossness, etc.

“‘Thing’ is the key fucking word there, Rook,” Jess scoffed, suddenly behind her. She hated the archer’s skill for sneaking up like that. “Those fucker’s brains have been fried way past human a long time ago.”

Jessie spared a glare to the bouquet clasped in their lap. “Brains or no, you were just doing what nature told you to,” she mumbled, speaking to the dead stranger rather than Jess as she pried their fingers from the stems. “Wandering towards these damn flowers and all.”

She tossed the mask and the bouquet up to the fire pit, hearing it crackle and burn to release a last smoky burst of perfume. 

She lowered her gaze to the freshly exposed portion of the Angel’s face, trailing along the raw, bloody skin of chapped lips and peering past them to rows of yellowed, crooked teeth. 

“Hey, uh… Dep? Is there — Is there a reason you’re staring at that thing?” Sharky’s voice registered unexpectedly — which was odd, he’d never had Jess’s knack for sneaking up on Jestiny. “’Cause lemme tell ya, if you — If you think it’s someone you used to recognize, just… Better not to go down that road, man, y’know? I think it’s better for your like — self-care or whatever to just… Burn ’em to a crisp and not think too hard about…” 

The dead weight of their jaw had fallen far enough she could see the cavities that had rotted into their bottom molars — save for one on the left that had fallen out entirely, leaving only fleshy mounds of gum screaming an angry cherry bright enough to blend into the blood pooling into the sockets from the severity of the inflammation. And she swore their jaw remained as still and slackened as ever as they finally spoke, a bright, melodic bell of a voice that now rang inside her as tangible and familiar as her own pulse. 

“You’ll join us,” the words poured from their mouth even as it hung open, the only hint of movement the blood bubbling up from their throat with the steady vibration of their speech. “You can finally be at peace, here, in the bliss.” 

Their maw seemed to widen further yet, stench wafting out from it, a gaping void of sickness and decay she couldn’t look away from. And then words and blood congealed, crimson settling in the grooves of crooked and rotting teeth as airy sing-song hardened into guttural scream, piercing her ears — piercing her flesh, pain spiking along her forearm as incisors sank into it. 

“Fuck!” She grew suddenly aware with the sharp sting drilling deeper into muscle that the Angel had lunged forward to clamp down hard on her arm, their deep growl now humming through her flesh as they locked into place. 

Jestiny attempted to jerk the arm away — only succeeding in slicing open more skin as teeth dragged, pain zipping along their path. 

She swung the arm forward, sending the back of their skull crashing against the brick of the fire pit — hoping briefly the impact would knock them unconscious. But clouded white stayed opened wide, cotton-dry and failing to even glisten with tears, a sea foam abyss she couldn’t escape, couldn’t shutter off. 

She thrust her free hand to their shoulder, pulled them forward — then shoved back again, a fresh ripple of pain sparking where teeth dug into skin as she slammed them against the stone. 

“Hold fucking still!” The twang of a bowstring drawing. “Can’t get a clear fucking shot with —” 

The crack of bone against rock. Her hand lifted to their forehead, a duller thud of pain smacking against its heel as she slammed them back again. And again. And again. And again. 

A sharper pain, as the hand cracked through splintered skull — then soft again, landing against a cushion of brain, blood trickling down her arm. 

Warm. Soothing. 

She kept her palm shoved in the cavern of cracked open skull as she jerked the arm from their jaws, dislodging easily this time.

She scrambled back, rushing to stand — Dead? she wondered. Were they really dead? Even with flecks of brain ground into the heel of her hand, spilling from the jagged, jutting slopes of bone: were they? Could they be? 

“Coulda just stayed still and let me shoot the fucker,” Jess grumbled beside her. “Woulda made a lot less of a mess.” 

“Well, fuck, Jess!” she snapped, flailing an arm to wave her away — too close, everyone was too close. “A little fuckin’ easier said than done with them fucking playing Hungry Hungry Hippo with my goddamn arm!” 

#who says she’s not an empath. #wip

[jen-with-a-pen]

the weight

summary: Steve betrays Bucky in the worst way possible.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

warnings: Angst, cheating, emotional damage, swearing, mention of vomiting, hurt/no comfort, emotional hurt

word count: 3.8k

read here on AO3!

a/n: This is my submission for the lovely @maladaptivexxdaydreaming's Jardin de Poemas writing challenge! I was so so excited for this and decided to take it on as my first ever writing challenge! I had a lot of angsty emotional fun writing this and a lot of listening to Amber Run's The Weight on repeat (hence the title oops). This is literally my longest fic to date and I did my best to revise and edit it on my own!! Hope you like it!! divider by @firefly-graphics, banner by me I used the following prompts:

I would put you first, I would claim you, I would declare you when times were tough, when times were difficult, I would cling to you

Let go of the old love and tell it to keep its distance. Tell this love that I am the only one for you

The morning Bucky heard Steve had made it home from his mission, he felt the weight of the world lift from his shoulders. After six weeks of worrying, waiting for some sort of news, he was finally able to breathe again. 

Bucky rushed to the rooftop the second the helicopter landed, ready to welcome back the love of his life. It was a tradition that developed over the five years they had been officially together: one happily welcoming the other home with the biggest hug and kiss, never mind who was around or watching. It was one of Bucky’s favorite things. 

Next to Steve himself, of course. 

The steel security doors flung open as Bucky hurried onto the landing pad as the propellers slowed to a halt. The door swung open, and Bucky couldn’t help the smile building on his face, wider and wider as the vehicle emptied. The first two agents exited, followed by a striking blonde woman in full business attire plus a tactical vest. C.I.A. in bold white letters plastered on the front of the Kevlar that fit snug over her white collared blouse. Shiny black heels clacked against the concrete as she strutted through the line of officials welcoming the team back.

Bucky paused, watching her, brow furrowing deeper into thought with yet each heel click. Bucky couldn’t put a name to her face; he knew he recognized her as she strode by him, eyes flicking up and down his form with the shadow of a smirk grazing her lips. His smile faltered.

What was that about?

Bucky’s gaze followed the woman as she continued into the building, his face contorted as he filed through his brain for some sort of name for her. He knew he’d seen her before, when and where–

“Bucky?”

Whipping his head back around, his grin returned immediately. Steve stood in front of the copter’s exit, donning his signature navy tactical suit, worn leather shield harness tight against his fame. His blond hair pushed back from his face with a few strands cascading from his crown; a sight that would make any man or woman fall to their knees. The cut lip he somehow acquired failed to take away from the sculpturesque features of his face.

Finally.

Bucky broke into a sprint, colliding with Steve’s Kevlar-clad chest, arms wrapping around his torso, warmth washing onto his skin as he buried his face in Steve’s neck. 

“Woah! Hey, hey, Buck,” he coughed out, squeezing his partner back. However, Bucky noticed, it wasn't as hard as he usually did. Usually, Steve would squeeze back so hard Bucky would see stars. This was… just a hug. 

Bucky swallowed the nasty taste on his tongue, immediately tucking the thought back with the other unnecessary doubts and intrusive suggestions he kept locked away. It had been a month, just one, and his brain was suddenly overanalyzing Steve hugging him. 

“Here I thought you weren’t gonna make it in time, you let the copter beat ya," Steve laughed, dimples appearing on his cheeks.

“Had a late notice, but I still made it,” Bucky hummed into his neck. “I’d never miss this for th’ world.” He opened his eyes after a moment, greeted by a sight of purple-haloed bruises running up the column of his lover's neck. Bucky pulled back sharply as he held Steve at arm's length. 

“Steve, what happened?” Bucky questioned, concern coating his tone. He'd never seen his partner come home with an injury like this before. He tilted his head to look at both sides, each riddled with various contusions in pinks, reds, and purples. Some even seemed fresh; Bucky, again, pushed the mere suggestion to the back of his mind. Steve’s eyes widened, immediately reeling his reaction in to keep his composure. Bucky swore he felt the man’s shoulders tense under his touch. 

“Oh, um, they had this huge guy, a hitman ex-assassin,” Steve explained. “Guy got a good couple of headlocks, couple a hits ‘n kicks to me before I took him down.” He swallowed thickly, searching Bucky’s eyes for validation in his story. Bucky held his gaze a second more, finally relaxing his grip on Steve’s shoulders. He brought the blond back in for another bear hug. 

“‘m just glad you’re okay, punk.” 

“Me too, Buck. Now, let’s get inside, I need debrief, dinner, and a shower.” 

×××

Sharon. That’s who the blonde was.

Bucky remembered the woman’s name as he failed to mingle at the dinner that was arranged for the return of Captain America from another successful assignment. Leaning his plated arm against the stainless steel bar top, he mulled over a cider he half-heartedly accepted when Steve offered it to him earlier. Sipping the lukewarm liquid, his gaze swept the room of people conversing, laughing with one another. His eyes flitted from one group of people to another, face after unfamiliar face as he searched the sporadic sea of people. 

Stretching, Bucky checked his watch. Seven twenty. He’d been stuck to the bar like some outlying predator with an alcohol problem for thirty minutes. 

"Buck, I have t' go 'n mingle, gotta make the press happy," Steve had told him, unhooking his fingers from the brunet’s plated ones as he picked up his phone again for the fortieth time that evening. Bucky had never seen Steve on his phone that much, fingers speeding over the keys, tapping rapidly as if his life depended on it. It felt like every minute they cycled through the same three things– talking, phone buzzing, texting, repeat– and when Bucky leaned in the slightest bit to see who Steve was chatting with, Steve immediately dropped the phone face down on the counter like he hadn’t even touched it.

Bucky noticed Steve’s eyes dulled each time they met his.

"I'll be quick, then we can catch up, okay?" He smiled genuinely for the first time since he'd been home. Bucky relented, returning the gestures half-heartedly with a soft 'of course, love' before leaning in for a kiss– to which Steve pecked Bucky's cheek and beelined for the first table he could find. 

The faces blurred together after that.

"'m heading back," the soldier turned to the bartender, "if the tall blond that was here earlier with me comes back, tell 'im I went back to our place, would ya?"

The bartender offered a pitiful smile. “Cap, right?” 

Bucky nodded, still hopelessly searching for his partner. 

“Sure thing. You alright, Sarge?”

“Yeah. Yeah, ‘m fine,” Bucky mumbled as he shook out of his self-induced trance. He dove into his pocket for his wallet, slipping out a twenty and sliding it to the young man. “Thanks, kid.” 

He stalked through the crowd towards the elevators, teeth gnawing on his bottom lip as anxiety began to pool in his chest and thought after intrusively doubtful thought raced through his mind. His heart quickened with his pace as he made it to the elevator and pressed the call button a little too aggressively. The elevator doors slid open instantaneously and Bucky looked up, freezing in place as he locked eyes with the exiting occupants.

Steve and Sharon stood side by side, eyes just as wide and surprised to see Bucky. 

The three gawked at one another, unable to move or speak. Sharon parted her lips, another quiet smirk playing on her smudged red lipstick. She glanced to Steve– who had completely drained of blood at the sight of Bucky– and cleared her throat, throwing on another innocent smile. 

“Sergeant Barnes,” she acknowledged, failing to hide the underlying curtness in her tone. She gave him another once over as she strutted back to the dinner party, heels clicking on the marble floor. 

Bucky turned his attention back to Steve and quirked an eyebrow as a hard lump of annoyance and anxiety built in his throat.

“Sorry, baby, they, they needed us for a quick photo op!” Steve nodded his head as if patting himself on the back. The half-assed apology failed to reach his eyes. 

And its target audience.

“‘S okay, I’m beat, gonna head up to the room,” Bucky shrugged, stepping inside the elevator and pressing the button for their floor. “You comin’?”

Steve was already halfway out the elevator by Bucky’s question. He stopped and turned on his heel, raising an index finger and pointing at his partner. 

“No, but!” He gestured, “Sharon wanted a drink and I wanted to say hi to Maria real quick. I’ll be up in, say, fifteen?” The blond smiled, awaiting approval from the brunet.

“Sure. Fifteen.”

The doors slid shut as Steve all but ran towards the party. Bucky sighed, the lump in his throat expanding as the elevator hummed, one thought plaguing his brain on the way up. 

Maria wasn’t at that party.

×××

Bucky knew someone had been in the apartment. 

He flicked the light on as he let the door shut behind him, a sense of unease and doubt washing over him as he shrugged off his jacket and threw it on the counter. Standing in the open entryway made him fidget like he wasn’t supposed to be there. 

Like he didn’t belong there.

He moved into the kitchen, taking out his ponytail, and carding a hand through the loosened locks. Opening a cupboard, he fished out a scotch glass and placed it on the counter, pulling a bottle of whiskey from another and pouring to his heart’s content. If there was anything that would put him at ease, it'd be straight scotch. 

Bringing the whiskey to his lips, he froze, goosebumps littering his neck and arm. Something was off. He glanced over at the living room sofa, scanning the coffee table, end tables, the bookshelf. 

It was subtle, but he knew. 

The couch cushions were recently pushed in, the pillows in their wrong spots. The throw blankets he and Steve always shared were folded and draped carelessly over the back of the couch. The end table coasters were knocked to the floor, scattering across the area rug.

The picture frame on the coffee table, one of Steve and him from their first date in Central Park, tipped over face down. 

Bucky downed the rest of the whiskey and strode into the bedroom as the rooms began to spin. Turning on the light displayed a similar scene. The bed was haphazardly made, with wrinkled blankets and more wrongly-placed pillows.

He must be making this up. It’s all in his head. It had to be. 

The picture of him on Steve’s side of the bed, face down like the one in the living room, proved otherwise. 

Bucky felt sick. His stomach somersaulted, twisting upside and inside out as his heart hammered against his ribs. He stumbled to the bathroom sink, blasting cold water from the faucet. He cupped and splashed it on his face, a futile attempt to stop the panic attack in its tracks. He braced the sink basin, gripping the granite countertop while attempting to control his breathing. 

All focus dissipated, however, when he felt the counter vibrate under his palms. He glanced down, only to be greeted by Steve’s cell phone in the middle of the counter. The last bit of blood left Bucky's face, the lump in his throat dropping straight into the pit of his stomach.

Listening for the door, Bucky quickly peered over his shoulder and picked up the phone. It buzzed as he held it, a Pandora's Box beckoning him to open it.

He tapped the screen awake– only to be promoted for a password. Bucky’s brow furrowed, confused and offended as to why Steve needed a password on his phone. He never wanted one, nor would he ever bend to getting one despite complaints from Tony. 

Bucky gulped as he racked his brain for possible options. 

1945, no.

2825, BUCK, no.

72724, SARAH, yes.

Oh. 

Bucky could feel his hand begin to shake as he opened the messages app. At the very top of the screen, Sharon's name illuminated the screen as unread. With attachments.

Oh fuck. 

Bucky was paralyzed, unsure of whether to dig deeper or to pretend this was a dream. Without thinking, he tapped on her name.

Message upon message, photos from both sides of the screen, validations and sweet nothings and secret meetings. Bucky stopped scrolling at one excerpt, his heart all but stopping.

Sharon: what r u doing when u get back?

Steve: You, definitely ;)

Sharon: but what about bucky? he cant know

Steve: I won’t tell him!!

Sharon: u wont?

Steve: No, not ever. Only you and me til the end of the line :*

The phone left Bucky’s hand faster than he could lunge for the toilet, gagging over the bowl as the text burned into his brain, branding it forever into his memory. He clutched the porcelain as he heaved, purging his dinner and guts and trust and last bits of hope. 

The bathroom door slammed open as Bucky heaved again. Steve suddenly appeared, frozen in place at the sight of his cell phone screen shattered on the floor while his partner hunched over the toilet. Steve’s stomach sank, refusing to let him move from the threshold of the bathroom. 

Spitting and wiping his nose, Bucky looked up at Steve, tears and snot streaming down his face. Steve was the equivalent of a deer in headlights as the blood drained from his face at the sight of his lover.

“Why?” Bucky croaked, gagging again into the toilet. Having nothing else to give, he dropped the seat down and flushed, slumping back against the shower door. He wiped his face on the sleeve of his t-shirt, panting and sniffling like a pathetic child.

Steve’s lips formed the words he needed but sound failed to carry them. His grip only tightened against the door frame. There was nowhere else to hide. 

“Why, Steve?” Bucky yelled, this time standing abruptly and biting his lip to quell the sudden sobs building in his chest. Still, with no answer he moved to pick the phone off the floor, gripping it in his prosthetic hand. The phone’s plastic body began to submit to the weight of his grasp, cracking under the pressure. 

“Fuckin’ answer me!” 

“I can explain, Bucky! It’s not what you think!” Steve held both hands out in an attempt to calm the brunet down, though it looked more like a zoo keeper calming a wild animal than it did a lover's quarrel. 

Bucky’s rage only boiled over. He threw the phone at the ground, glass and plastic shattering and metal shrapnel flying everywhere. He balled his hands into tight fists and set his jaw. Tears streamed steadily down his cheeks, trailing the column of his neck, staining the collar of his shirt. 

“You fuckin’ liar. Why? Why, Steve? When did this even happen? When did it fucking start?” He sobbed, his legs like jelly, threatening to give under him at any moment.

“Bucky I-”

“You’ve made enough goddamned excuses!”

“We were undercover for the mission, we… I didn’t mean for it to go this far!”

“Then why did you fuckin’ let it?”

The silence was deafening as Steve searched for an answer. He came up empty and Bucky shoved past him, heading for the front door. He needed to get the fuck out of there, away from Steve, away from it all. 

“Bucky, baby, honey, please!” Steve begged as he followed. He knew he was crying, he felt like he was crying, but the tears refused to spill. 

He couldn’t deny his guilt. 

“Don’t you dare Bucky baby me, you lying fuckin' bastard!”

“I didn’t know what she was doing, Buck! She came onto me! And, and I, I dunno! I, I just went with it!” Steve appealed. “I was gone for a month!” 

Bucky stopped dead in his tracks. He spun over his shoulder, daggers shooting from his eyes straight into Steve's.

“That’s your excuse? You were gone? For a month?”

Steve instantly regretted his words, opening his mouth to explain but promptly shutting it. He knew he couldn’t dig the hole any further than the bedrock he just hit. 

“I was here. For a month. I slept, in an empty bed, for a month. I worked, alone, for a month. I was here,” his voice broke, “without my best guy. For a month.”

Bucky screamed the last of his words at Steve, grasping fistfuls of hair to ground himself– and to keep himself from punching a hole in the wall. 

Steve remained silent, unable to further poorly defend himself. The tears still hadn't fallen.

"I was gonna leave but ya know what?" Bucky shook his head. He headed to the door, pushing it open and blowing in a sarcastic gesture of politeness. "You leave. Get the fuck out, Steve. I'm fucking going to bed." 

Steve's jaw slacked, his slouched figure stuck in place in front of the open door. Bucky held firm in his bow, stifling sobs and sniffles as he waited with the last ounce of patience he could muster. Defeated, he slowly dragged his feet to the doorstep, turning on his heel with one last apology pulling at his tongue.

"Bucky, I'm–"

The door slammed in his face before he could finish.

×××

The thunderstorm hadn't started long after.

Bucky knew it was late. Just how late was unknown. He'd crawled straight into bed sobbing, drifting in and out of bouts of sobbing and rage. 

It was sometime later he heard the front door open, closing softly behind quiet footsteps. He quickly turned on his side and huddled into the comforter, unwilling to allow Steve to know he was still awake. Unwilling to show him any more weakness. 

He didn't deserve it. 

Bucky felt the weight shift on the mattress next to him. His eyes remained closed, feigning sleep to avoid the man he thought he knew slipping under the covers next to him. The audacity, the gall, Steve had to even come back to bed. 

To even come back. 

His heart, however, refused to quiet. It pounded furiously in his chest, loud enough to match the roaring thunder from the storm raging on outside of the bedroom windows. 

Underneath the rain pattering against the window, Steve sobbed softly. His hand muffled any escaping cries from his throat as he sat in the bed he and his lover shared. His forever. 

But that was gone. The bed was just a bed now, no love to be found; it had been driven out by his stupidity and his selfishness. He wished he could find answers to his actions underneath the mattress, but only the remains of what he had, what they had, lay dead and dormant and decaying. 

Bucky was tired. 

×××

Steve awoke to a crack of lightning hitting the tower’s lightning rod, shaking the building like a volcanic eruption. He shot up, panting and covered in sweat, the silence greeting him gladly as the rain continued pounding at the windows. He rubbed his face as his eyes adjusted to the stilled darkness enveloping the bedroom. He glanced over at the clock that blinked 12:00 steadily.

As he came to his senses, his hand instinctively migrated to the space next to him. Muscle memory. Instead of finding the weight and warmth and presence of Bucky, he felt cold sheets and empty space. He looked around the room, calling out for his partner; getting up to check the bathroom, the closet, to no avail. 

What he did find were missing items. A toothbrush, clothes, shoes.

Steve’s heart began to sink, to pound with fistfuls of anger and pain and sorrow as he ran out into the living room. When another crack of lightning filled the room, a glint of metal caught his eye on the table. Then he saw the note. 

Neatly placed under the T.V. remote on the hardwood coffee table laid a folded piece of legal pad paper, blotches of ink bleeding through to the other side. Next to it laid a thin chain of weathered metal leading to two distinct dog tags detailing the information of one James Buchanan Barnes. 

Steve gulped, silently pleading it wasn’t what he thought it was. That it was just a horrible dream, and he was still asleep, beside the love of his life and about to wake up in the arms of his one and only.

He refused to allow his tears to fall as they welled in his vision, clouding the contents of the note as he picked it and the tags up, falling back into the couch. The metal clinked as he gripped them tightly in his hand like a rosary, praying this wasn’t real. This wasn’t happening. This couldn't be happening. 

Steve -

I am a broken man. I always have been, and I always will be. But you were the first to fix me, to put me back together again and again after shattering. I stayed, for you, just as you waited, for me. 

I have worked so hard to forgive. Every day of my new life has been forgiveness for all I have done, for all who have done it to me. I have even worked up to forgiving myself, something you and I both know has taken longer than we have been together. 

I feel more ready to forgive myself now than I think I will ever be able to start to forgive you. 

I had put you first. I had claimed you, declared you when times were tough. When times were difficult, I would cling to you. 

But I can no longer do that. I cannot live pretending to be with someone I thought would never betray me. I cannot live with someone who put what we have through more war and hurt than what the both of us have seen. 

I ask of you, as one last favor, one last time. Let go of this old love and tell it to keep its distance. Tell this love that I am was the only one for you.

This is the end of the line.

– Buck

Tears fell steadily onto the paper, bleeding into the inked page and smearing the final words Steve was privileged to even be able to read. His sobs finally broke through, echoing into the empty living room, reminding him of how lonely he was, now. He cried out, clutching the dog tags and the letter to his chest in hopes he could break through his ribs and store it in his heart. He crumpled up the paper and smudged the pen into his fingertips, the last thing Bucky ever touched. His heart pounded and his chest heaved as he howled like an injured dog, beaten and bloodied and bruised beyond recognition. 

He deserved it, though. He had done this to himself. 

It truly was the end of the line.

#Jardin de Poemas Writing Challenge #Alice’s 1.5k Writing Challenge #maladaptivexxdaydreaming challenge #poetry #writing challenge #stucky #stucky fic #stucky fanfic #stevebucky #bucky x steve #bucky barnes x steve rogers #bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #captain america #steve rogers #steve rogers angst #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fic #hurt/no comfort #emotional hurt/no comfort #angst #poetry prompts #the weight #the weight fic #jen writes

[simeons-hips]

「 Love Sick 」

part 1 ┊ part 2 ┊ part 3 ┊ part 4 ┊ part 5

Asmodeus

— [cw] ⨾ none

“M-mammon…”

Asmo slowly began to make sense of his surroundings while he laid limp in the secure arms of his older brother.

“Ya with me now, Asmo?”

Once Asmo’s brain had caught up to the current situation, he couldn’t help but act upon the flames of frustration that began searing him.

“Get away from me!”

Asmo flailed out of Mammons grip and onto the floor, crawling backwards while still wrapped in the blanket Mammon had given him.

“You are not my knight in shingling armor— MC should be here not you!”

Mammon, seeming relatively unbothered by his younger brother’s outburst, let out a frustrated sigh before getting comfortable on the floor of Asmo’s bedroom.

He laid with his head propped up on a hand as his body rested on its side.

“Tch, You should be groveling at The Great Mammon’s feet. Don’t be so ungrateful, huh?”

“I’d-“

Before he could think of a quip to strike back with, a wandering thought reminded Asmo of just how terrifying the panic attack Mammon had pulled him out of was.

He felt his usual distain for the second-eldest diminish as he realized that he was grateful Mammon had been there for him.

“…Thank you, Mammon.”

Asmo’s head hung low as he sat with his knees close to his chest.

Mammon hummed in acknowledgment of the mumbled gratitude, laying in silence as he decided how to best encourage his brother.

“Ya know, I can’t stand seein’ MC sad.”

Asmo curled into himself further, embracing for the inevitable lecture about how ‘he’d pay for makin’ MC cry’ and how Lucifer has been preparing an especially torturous punishment just for him.

“I know you can’t either.”

Asmo’s breathing halted as he tried to reason where the conversation was going.

“So why are ya lettin’ ‘em be sad?”

Asmo sniffled away tears as he gathered the nerves to respond.

“I hurt them. Even when they had hurt me, they came to check on me but I just, I just hurt them so badly, I-“

Asmo choked back a sob.

“Wait- what do you mean MC hurt you?”

“…It, it was when they were sick. They never called me. They never wanted me. They- they didn’t even want to see my face!”

Tears began to flow cathartically as Asmo was finally able to explain his feelings to another person.

“Then tell ‘em off!”

“H-huh?”

Asmo rubbed his eyes as he looked up at Mammon, now standing in front of him.

“Tell ‘em about how sad ‘n mad you were! Tell ‘em the same way you always tell people when you’re upset! Just complain about it like you always do!!”

Tears prickled at Mammon’s eyes as he spoke from his heart.

“MC ain’t no different than the rest of us— so whatcha doin’ all this for, huh?? Go let ‘em know!”

After a moment of shock, Asmo pinched the bridge of his nose as if Mammon’s yelling had given him a headache.

“It’s not that straightforward, you dimwit.”

“Dimwit??! Ya got some nerve talking big when you’re all the way down there!!”

“And yet I can still hear a certain idiot’s voice booming in my ears from aaaallll the way down here!”

Grinding his teeth, Mammon crossed his arms as he turned away from Asmo.

“Ungrateful lil’ siblings. Never showing The Great Mammon the respect he deserves.”

Despite the back and forth bickering, the air in the room had seemed to grow lighter.

Perhaps it was even because of the bickering, that the two brothers shared a moment of relief, as well as a smile, unbeknownst to them both.

MC laid atop their bed, papers scattered about as they attempted to focus on their homework.

The setting sun filtered through the blinds and onto the book MC was currently reading.

Re-reading the same line over and over again as their mind refused to focus on what was in front of them.

Instead, they caught themself reminiscing upon the past couple of days.

Despite their best attempts to distract their thoughts, their mind never failed to return to the subject of Asmo.

As it stood, MC was no longer a friend of Asmo’s. Merely a roommate. An acquaintance, even.

MC had made up their heart- they know how they felt- but it was their mind that persistently allowed Asmo to occupy space.

Lost in these thoughts, MC failed to hear the knocking at the door.

They were only aware of the presence in the room when the visitor spoke up.

“M-MC.”

They froze. Muscles stiff, refusing to look up.

‘…Maybe if I pretend I don’t see him, he’ll leave.’

MC stayed still and silent, as did their visitor.

After a long and awkward silence, the tapping of steps could be heard.

Slowly they approached MC, the silence returning with a dip in the bed.

MC took a deep breath, steeled their resolve, and looked the intruder in the eyes.

“Asmodeus, leave.”

MC had invoked the pact.

part 1 ┊ part 2 ┊ part 3 ┊ part 4 ┊ part 5

taglist: @asmobunn @everlasting-elegy @scare-dy-crow @eternallydaydreaming2015 @ashielle @my-fic-corner @traumaramacenter @auroramae0 @lunalily19 @lucidreamsxx

#obey me #obey me angst #obey me asmo #obey me gender neutral mc #obey me imagines #obey me fics #asmo x reader #asmodeus x reader #asmo x mc #asmodeus x mc #omswd #obm asmo #om asmo #obey me mammon

[jamalgripperton46290]

Sweet Puddin' (Harley Quinn x The Joker)

Jamal Gripperton's Masterlist

A/N (if you haven't already read it go read it now then come back)

A/N - HAPPY KINKTOBER ONCE AGAIN PPLS! (we got lots of kinky stuff going on in this one). This fic contains spoilers for the Suicide Squad movie so if you haven't watched it yet and you want to, this is your sign to click off. 

P.S -I have never read the comics or seen any other movie besides suicide squad and know nothing about the dc universe so this might not be that accurate or whatever, just a small heads up. Google also told me that The Joker's name is Jack Napier, so we're going with that.

(This chapter is dedicated to our second ever commenter, but the first on  Wattpad, ow10306010. Maybe you'd read this on another bus trip someday, who knows?)

•••

Reading a book and sipping espresso was Harley Quinn, who was in her cell, which now had a bed. After defeating the Enchantress and the Enchantress 'brother with the 'Suicide Squad' aka Deadshot, herself, Katana, Killer Croc, El Diablo, Captain Boomerang and Colonel Rick Flag. The air in her cell was the same as before she'd gone with the others to "save the world" at the risk of their lives, under Amanda's command. Cold, stale and funky smelling. It was still deathly quiet as before, only the occasional whirring of her espresso machine tore through the deafening silence of her solitude.

 So yeah, I guess you could say that her life was better than a couple months prior. There was at least something else to do except hang off the tattered cloth that was tied to the upper bars of her cell, or when that was taken away, mope around on the floor. It was lonely, hell, it always was. Doesn't seem like that would change either considering she witnessed the helicopter her Puddin' was in blow up.

She was completely alone now, with no one that would care enough about her to have a single thought of her that wasn't negative after The Joker had passed. Flipping through the pages of her book as she read to take her mind off the loneliness she had and drinking a lot of espresso were her only ways to escape the burning in her heart.

Said burning was connected to the ticking time bomb, that once the whole thought of being lonely for the rest of her life and probably not ever escaping the literal and figurative prison she was in, would detonate on her already corrupted mind, thoughts and being. Erasing every one of the few faded memories she had left. 

Just like what she did to The Joker.

-

"I did everything you said, I helped you!" Harleen spoke out breathlessly.

"Ah... you... helped me... by erasing my mind, what few. Faded. Memories I had?" 

"No, you left me in a black hole of rage and confusion" The words fell off his tongue, laced in venom, spite and rage.

"Is that the medicine you practice? Doctor Quinzell?"

"What are you gonna do, you gonna kill me Mr. J?" Harleen had tried to hide her fear but failed as her tone and eyes gave her away.

"Oh, I'm not gonna kill ya, I'm just gonna hurt ya, really, really bad." 

"You think so? Well, I can take it"

The Joker snapped the brown belt in his hands and placed it between her teeth.

"I wouldn't want you to break those perfect, porcelain capped teeth, when the juice... hits your brain." He whispered the last part and gripped the mysterious items in his hands.

Then, he pressed them to her temples.

-

The memory made the bile at the back of her throat even more sour as she pushed the thoughts back and tried to put her mind back to her book but unfortunately, failed to do so as more and more memories came rushing to her at full speed.

-

Nine huge, bubbling tubs of Ace Chemicals sat far below the platform Harleen and The Joker were stood on. Harleen stared at the tubs blankly as The Joker stood a few feet behind her. Smoke or steam, she couldn't tell, floated above the tubs, small lights encircled them as well.

"Question..." The Joker's voice spoke out from behind her. He never failed to make her weak, no matter how little or how much he did.

"Would you die... for me?" He walked a few steps closer to her, so did Harleen.

"Yes" Harleen replied almost immediately.

"That's too easy..." The joker paused to think for a second.

"Would you... Would you live for me?"

"Hmm?" He spoke again once she didn't reply for a few seconds.

"Yes"  

"Careful, do not say this oath, thoughtlessly."

"Desire becomes surrender, surrender becomes power." The Joker continued in a hushed, whisper like tone.

"You want this?"

"I do" Harleen replied.

"Say it, say it, say it, pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty..." He whispered.

"Please?" Harleen's tone was on the brink of begging.

"Oh God, you're so... good."

The Joker took a few steps back and Harleen's back was facing where the tubs were. She leaned back and begun falling, falling into the tub of bleach whit chemicals and to her probable demise. He stared over the edge after Harleen fell into the tub. 

While walking over to the door, he paused, letting out a frustrated sound, he turned around and took off his jacket, walking over to the edge of the platform again and jumped off, into the tub. He pulled Harleen's body up to the surface and connected their lips in a searing kiss.

As he pulled away, Harleen gasped for air and The Joker started laughing maniacally.

-

Harley shook her head, as if clearing her head of all the other memories of him. Suddenly, the wall behind her had blown up and multiple armed people speedily walked in, shooting every guard in sight. After successfully breaking into her cell, a masked man walked towards her, Harley stood up from her bed and blandly stared at him as he took off his mask. Underneath the mask was The Joker.

"Puddin'!" Harley wrapped her arms around him joyfully.

Although she was confused how he was here and how he wasn't dead, when she watched him be blown up. Excitement still flooded her, he was here. Here in her arms, next to her. Living and breathing. Harley couldn't believe it.

"Let's go home" He drawled out.

The Joker scooped her up into his and carried her back to his car, placing her body onto the seat. Pressing his foot on the gas, the car's engine roared beneath them. As the pair speedily cruised through the pretty empty streets, The Joker grew more and more impatient, moving one of his hands to Harley's thigh, groping and kneading it as he drove.

The hunger that had bubbled through him the entire time the two had been separated festered in him, bubbling up like boiling soup on the stove. He couldn't just wait 'till he got home to pounce, but he had to. Pressing his foot even harder against the gas, a race against the clock until the insatiable hunger in him bubbled over, leaking all the emotions he'd been holding until he had Harley back in his arms.

God, he missed her. He could barely keep the already destructed little shards and pieces of his sanity together as he worked relentlessly to get her back in his arms. He missed her body, the amount of control he had on her and how he had her wrapped around his pinky finger. If he could, he would pull over right now and fuck her into an oblivion until she's a crying, squirming, overstimulated mess.

However, The Joker didn't want to just pull over and fuck her senseless on the side of the road in the confined space of his car. He wanted it to be in the comfort of his own home, behind closed doors and against a large, comfortable mattress in the plush, soft sheets of his bed. So, he pushed his desire for her away and continued driving.

Soon, the sun had gone and welcomed the cold embrace of the moon and night. The streetlights -which were now on- cast a warm glow below them, lighting up the roads and sidewalks. 

After what had seemed like decades, they arrived at The Joker's house which was -obviously- much bigger than a normal house, a mansion if you will. He hastily parked the car and led her back to his room. Sinful thoughts flooded his mind even more every step they took closer to the comfortable, solitary confines of his room, Harley seemed to be thinking about things similar to what he was, judging by the rose tint that spread across her face and the sudden silence of her sly comments and small giggles.

Opening the door to The Joker's bedroom, Harley was pinned against the wall as The Joker's lips were smothered and slotted between her own. Teeth clashing and tongues sliding against each other, the lewd sounds of their lips meeting filled the room along with the occasional moan or groan. The kisses were full of desperation and lust, his hands were also full of desperation and lust as they aimlessly roamed Harley's body, groping the soft, fleshy skin.

"Take off those clothes, doll" Jack spoke slightly breathlessly after he pulled away from the kiss.

A grin grew on Harley's face as she peeled off her clothes while maintaining eye contact with him. Jack sat on the bed, hungry eyes devouring the sight before him as the tent in is pants grew larger. Slowly taking off the last of her clothes and tossing the garments somewhere, Harley innocently batted her lashes at him, her lip caught between her teeth.

"Come to daddy" Jack slurred as he took off his shirt.

Harley giggled at his words as she walked up to him. Jack motioned for her to get down on her knees, so she did. She looked up at him through her lashes, patiently waiting for him to say something.

"Show me how much you missed me" He whispered in a seductive tone.

After hearing those words fall from his lips, she began to unbuckle his belt and push his pants down. Beads of precum leaked out of his rosy tip, taking it into her mouth and paying special attention to the slit. Jack groaned at the feeling, tilting his head back as he'd remember the euphoric feeling of her lips wrapped around him.

Bobbing her head up and down, her saliva dripping down his length and pooling at the base. Harley gagged slightly once the tip deliciously hit the back of her throat. Groans slipped off Jack's lips as pleasure engulfed him like a warm blanket of ecstasy. He continued pushing her head down and fucking her throat as lewd sounds floated around the room. As Harley continued is cock twitched in the warm cavity of her mouth, just before shooting hot, sticky sperm down her throat.

"Go on, swallow it all" Jack growled, hazy eyes watching her as she did so.

A smirk grew on his face as he lifted her up and placed her on the bed, her back against the plush material. Slowly, he spread her legs apart and inched his face closer to her throbbing, dripping core. Harley let out a shaky breath as her eyes followed his, practically drowning in anticipation of what he was going to do.

Harley softly gasped at the sensation of Jack shamelessly spitting on her sex, her arousal mixing with his saliva. Still maintaining eye contact, he dragged his now flattened tongue from her weeping hole up to her throbbing clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. Her thighs twitched slightly at the feeling, soft whimpers escaping her throat as he sucked her clit.

As Harley's hips rolled and thighs twitched in pleasure as Jack tongue fucked her tight hole, he wrapped his arms around her thighs, forcing them apart and still as he worked his mouth quicker. Drawing out more moans and whimpers from Harley's soft, plump and swollen lips. (the ones on her face ya dirty dawg) Jack slurped, sucked and licked at her fluid leaking cunt, making her hips buck and her fingers grasping at the messy strands of his hair, tugging and pulling at them. As Jack continued eating her out, Harley un-knowingly tried to push his head away from her aching core, too engulfed in her pleasure to notice that she was.

"If you want me to eat you out 'till you cum then don't try to push me away" Jack mumbled against her pussy lips before delving right back in, tongue and all.

The more he worked her pussy, the closer she got. It was pure ecstasy, her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she clenched around his tongue, a symphony of moans and chanting of his name as if he was a god that was about to condemn her to the fiery pits of hell.

Jack groaned as her cum painted his tongue, his taste buds practically exploding from the taste, making sure to slurp up every drop of her delicious nectar. Pulling away from her wet core, her slick covered his lips and dripped down his chin. Jack then connected their lips together in a slow and sensual kiss, their tongues sliding and lips connecting and disconnecting. Harley pulled away and chuckled softly at the look in his eyes.

"Get on your hands and knees baby, you know how. Face down, ass up" Jack growled out with a grin on his face.

Harley did exactly as he said, her hands gripped the cozy sheets that lay beneath her, the same sheets that would soon be covered in bodily fluids. Jack grabbed his length, rubbing the tip against her increasingly wet folds before slamming all of it into her tight, warm hole which made her loudly moan. Placing his hands on her hips, Jack started thrusting his cock in and out her pussy. The lewd sounds of skin meeting, moans and the wet, squelching sounds of his dick pumping against her hole of fat and human flesh filled each and every corner and crevice of the room.

"Fuck yeah, take my cock like the slut you are" Jack groaned as he continued jack-hammering his appendage into her fleshy cunt.

Resting her cheek against the plush mattress, Harley moaned in response, unable to form words with the pleasure that surged through her. The ecstasy was almost blinding, more moans slid off her puffy lips as his tip brushed her cervix. Jack slowed down slightly and pulled out a small, sharp blade then dragged it across her soft, pale skin. The dark, crimson fluid leaking out the wound, a stark contrast to her porcelain skin. Harley whined at the sensation, pain and pleasure that molded and mixed together which felt strangely euphoric.

He continued to glide the blade across her prior unbroken skin, Harley's blood painted her back like an artistic mosaic painted by the hands of God himself. Licking up the crimson that flowed out of the fresh wounds, Jack groaned at the delectable taste, his thrusts speeding up as he chased his release. Sounds of pleasure erupted from her, moving her hips back as he thrusted into her.

"Uh huh, just like that, back up onto my cock" Jack growled into her ear, sending tingles down Harley's spine.

A soft giggle came from Harley, which quickly changed into a moan as he wrapped his hand around her neck. Still plunging his dick into her arousal-dripping hole, Jack sucked, licked and nibbled at the supple, sensitive flesh. Speeding up his thrusts, more moans, groans and whimpers came from the pair as they both inched closer to their release. More thrusts that deliciously hit her g-spot, choking, praises and sounds of pleasure later, the pair got closer and closer to their sweet release.

"That's right, cum all over my cock baby, all over it" Jack moaned out, his tip kissing her cervix.

Harley's pussy spasmed, fluttered and twitched around his cock, her moans growing louder as he sped up even more. His cock mouthwateringly filled her up as tears of pleasure rolled down her hot, red cheeks.

"Mhm, milk my fucking cock" Jack moaned as his hands gripped her hips like a vice.

He thrust his hips forward a few more times before emptying his load deep inside her. Euphoria, ecstasy and pleasure flowed through their veins, engulfing them in pure dopamine. Both of them were breathless as they lay next to each other on the blood and bodily fluid soaked sheets, just basking in the presence of each other now that they were finally back together.

•••

Word count: 2.8k

Sup lil chickadees? We are back again with another kinktober fic, feeding you lil birdees with your well deserved S M U T. Hope y'all liked this one as much as our other chapters and the chapters to come. 

Also, if you wanna tell us any ship suggestions you can always just comment and the ask box will always be open.

Welp, see ya soon and remember kids, don't mistake sugar with salt when you're making cupcakes.

- Jamal Gripperton and BeezyBee <3

#harley quinn #the joker #harley x joker #smut

[smallestapplin]

... Yanno what? Fuck it. Super self indulgent mode on: Naga Submas have inspired me and I would just love to read anything for reader and "Some sorta bug hybrid monster Guzma" ?

My immediate thought for Bug hybrid had gotta be Dryder since that's like, the most common sort of bug hybrid monster I see in fiction but I'll give you free range here: Naga like creature but with centipede legs? Bomb. Weirdass Mothwinged guy? BRILLIANT! I don't even know what a Golispod / Ispod inspired bug hybrid would look like but honestly I would be fucking GAME. Just wanna read something that has big bad Bugzma and a reader that looks at him and goes "Well mark me down as scared AND horny"

YES! HYBRID GOLISOPOD GUZMA! THESE HYBRID ASKS MAKE MY DAY!

-

-

💀Guzma💀

- He’s already tall and hunches over like a golisopod, the only additions he has are an extra set of arms with with those two large claws on top, and a few scaley exoskeleton like scales down his back, his front is still human but an attack from behind won’t work. His pupils are star shaped much like golisopods, with those purple antenna popping out of his white hair.

- Hell he even already has the stance of golisopod so it works so well with him.

- And he’s about as soft as one too!

- Being his partner you’re going to both hate and love his extra set of limbs.

- Roughhousing that would usually last a while if he was human, lasts seconds now, two sets of arms babe! He’s got you pinned.

- Guzma is very mindful of his claws though. Said claws are known for breaking apart even the toughest shells and he doesn’t want to hurt you.

- His weird human mate. Though he is very hesitant to call you such.

- Humans aren’t exactly kind to hybrids that don’t fit the conventional cute aspect.

- His build also changes with the additions of golisopod and he is a lot broader.

- With this whenever you two go swimming he likes you resting on his back while he does his thing.

- When he is soaking up your affection he clicks little clicking sounds. But don’t say anything! He is a little self conscious about them and will actively stop making them if you point them out too early.

- Double the hands babe you aren’t escaping these cuddles anytime soon, which sucks cause he sleeps like a rock. If you get out of one set you still got one more to get out of.

- Your first meeting still lives in his head, he is so use to be looked at with fear.

- Yet all he could see in you eyes was a combination of that and just straight up lust.

When was towering over you at the garden, determined to get his point across and protect his grunts.

“I ain’t gonna ask ya again, hand the wallet over.” His form casts a shadow over you.

“Holy shit.” It was breathless but he thought it was working “mark me down as scared and horny, hello sailor!”

“Huh?” For once Guzma stood up as straight as his body would let him. His face growing bright and warming.

“Man you’re really pretty too.”

The grunts look to their boss watching his blush reach his ears.

“Knock that off!”

“Sir please if you keep being mean to me I swear I’m gonna fall in love with you.”

Guzma would only sputter, his brain failing to work and form words.

He couldn’t seem to get rid of you after that. But he doesn’t want to, after all he likes you, and you like him.

No he isn’t addicted to your love, shut up.

-ALTERNATIVELY-

If Guzma was a drider he’d be an Ariados hybrid.

But I like golisopod guzma, big cute baby.

#I would 100% be down to bang him #pokemon #pokemon imagines #pokemon x reader #pokémon #pokemon guzma #pokemon guzma x reader #pokemon hybrid au #other

[izzieg3987]

chapter 7

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Thankfully the group made it to class just in time. The Laboratory looked just like the ones Percy had seen Hex Maniacs have, with bubbling cauldrons, crystals, herbs, and colorful liquids in vials of all kinds of shapes.

Percy guessed potionology would be just like cooking, just follow the recipe, and you’d be fine. know what’s good for what, how one ingredient goes with another, and how much of it is needed, she did it all the time while making face masks, lotions, creams, and Pokemon food.

As she was thinking this the teacher walked in. He was young looking man with dark grey eyes and short white and black hair. He was wearing a fine suit and a faux fur coat over it. Fabulous, Percy thought as she saw him walking over to her.

“You must be Ms. Remmington. I’m your Potionology and homeroom teacher, Professor Divus Crewel. You may call me Master Crewel.” He introduced himself, and he had an accent too just like Percy. He then gestured to her lab coat and uniform with the pointer that was attached to a red collar, “I’m surprised that you got a uniform tailored this quickly, got to admit it fits you well. It’s a pleasure to finally have a puppy instead of these unruly mutts. If any of them get out of hand, don’t hesitate to tell me.”

“Thank you, Master Crewel, I know an amazing seamstress,” she thanked him with a kind smile while petting Mimikyu, who was currently on her lap, “And don’t worry sir, I have a vast amount of experience disciplining wild animals myself.”

“Excellent, good girl.” He praised then turned to the rest of the class and smacked his pointer against his palm, silencing the entire class. Then introduce himself again. “My name is Divus Crewel. You may call me Master Crewel. Now, take your seats. Class is about to begin. We’re going to start with the basics. And by that, I mean beating the names and distinguishing characteristics of one hundred herbs and poisons into your tiny brains. The mycelia are another matter. But eventually, I’m hopeful you’ll be able to take a walk without putting anything poisonous into your gaping maws. For now, I realize you have all the self-control of voracious hounds. But I will not abide a single student failing this class. Expect to be drilled accordingly.”

“Huh. So…” Deuce whispered to them slowly, “does anyone know what a mycelia is?”

“The vegetative part of a fungus, consisting of a network of fine white filaments,” Percy answered as she took a look at the potionology book. Oh yeah, she was sure she was gonna excel at this class.

She might’ve not been an official student since she was five, but that doesn’t mean that she was stupid. Percy had a proclivity for analytical thinking and unofficially, she was academically brilliant. She is a fast learner and she was natural at subjects such as mathematics, physics, biology, science, and chemistry.  

“I’ve never been one for like,” Ace took one look at the textbook and grimaced, “Memorizing what things are, ya know?”

“All I care about is how to tell the yummy plants from the yucky ones,” Grim said with his paws on his hips.

“It’s important to know what’s poisonous and what’s not Grim, just like the Nightshade berries, just because it’s sweet doesn’t mean it can’t kill you.” Percy said without looking up from the book.

The next was History of Magic.

The old gentleman gave Percy a curt, yet polite greeting upon entering. He was a tall elderly man with small grey eyes and greying, neatly combed back hair, but the most interesting thing about him was the creature he held in his arms. It was a chubby Purugly-looking creature with long black fur, a white muzzle, and golden eyes.

“I am your History of Magic teacher, Mozus Trein.” He introduced himself then lifted the creature in his arms for all of them to see, “And this is my familiar, Lucius. You are here to learn the rich history of magic, and how it has sculpted the world that you now so easily take for granted. I grade based on classroom behavior as well as the quality of work. Don’t let me catch you sleeping. Now, let us open our books to page fifteen. This section concerns the magestones discovered in the Dwarfs’ Mine.”

Okay, that took Percy’s attention from the professor’s familiar and she quickly turned the page.

 “As knowledge and awareness of magical energy began to spread across the globe from this point, this year is considered Year One of the Magic Era.” The teacher started again putting his familiar down.

Who then slowly made its way to the blonde girl and rubbed up against her leg just like her Purugly did when she wanted attention. She put Mimikyu on her desk and leaned down to pick up the creature.

“Well hello, Lucius.” She quietly greeted him and scratched his chin just like her Purugly liked; it seemed to do the job for this feline too. Lucius purred in his arms as she listened to Professor Trein’s lecture.

Normally she wasn’t in history, but knowing the history of magic from a different reality might come in handy while she was here, so she listened closely.

But that cannot be said for the rest of her classmates, as most of them were already dosed off, including the two Heartslabyul boys beside her. Ace was yawning loudly, and while Deuce’s attempts to be interested were unsuccessful, he did at least tried.

“Fascinating… ‘Dwarfs’ Mine’…” the blue-haired boy mumbled in his sleep, “Mhm, mhm… ‘magical energy’…”

“Maaan…” Grim groaned, “When do we get to the classes where we blow stuff up with magic?”

“You can’t get to those classes without learning their basics, Grim.” Percy scolded him silently as she took notes with one hand to not bother Lucius on her lap.

The rest of the class went normally, save for one incident where Mimikyu and Lucius hissed at each other while fighting for her lap.

And up next was Physical Education which was taught by a very muscular, broad-shouldered man with a thick neck and thick chest. He had dark brown hair styled in a pompadour, small blue eyes, and a thin beard framing his face.    

“I’m Coach Vargas, and physically educating your feeble little bodies is my responsibility. Great sorcery begins with a great physique! Behold!” he exclaimed gesturing to his body, “The muscles you can build with a diet of raw eggs! A great mage needs a great physical constitution! So gimme twenty laps and a hundred push-ups!”

“Bleah.” Ace groaned as they walked to the running tracks. “The forced exercise is bad enough, but meatheads like this guy drive me nuts.”

“Finally!” Deuce boomed, “A subject I’m good at!”

“Explain to me the appeal of runnin’ around in circles! Do I look like a hamster?” Grim complained to his human counterpart.

“Let’s do our best!” Deuce yelled.

15 laps later…

Both boys and the feline monster were breathless. Even deuce who was confident in his abilities was panting.

“I feel like I’m gonna throw up.” Ace wheezed.

“Normally I like running,” Deuce agreed while running next to him, “But not for this long.”

“I can’t feel my paws!” Grim cried.

And then there was Percy, jogging to them with Mimikyu running next to her, who was cackling at the boys’ condition, without even breaking a sweat. And snickering at them

“You guys are so weak, it’s not even funny.” She taunted.

“How are you still not out of breath?” Ace asked, he didn’t have the energy to be angry.

“I have been walking the entire length of continents since I was 10, mate. This is nothing.” Percy bragged.

The boys didn’t have anything to say to that.

“See you at the finish line losers.” She said and suddenly bolted finishing her 20th lap and starting her push-ups.

“Very good, Very good, Remmington!” Coach Vargas praised her as he counted her push-ups.

“Thank you, Coach.”

“And may I ask why your uniform has a hood?” Coach asked curiously, it was warm outside and most people tend to shed their clothing as they worked out, but the blonde girl was covered head to toe.

“Because Coach,” *Push-up* “I’m allergic to sunlight,” *Push-up* “So you see,” *Push-up* “I need to wear,” *Push-up* “Covering clothes,” *Push-up* “When I’m out,” Percy answered him between push-ups.

“All right, I’ll accept it. Keep up the good work.” He said as he left.

“Let’s see, our next class is…” Deuce started but didn’t finish his sentence.

“This so-called magic Academy feels a lot like a lame, ordinary school,” Ace said while using the wall as a crutch, he stretched out the lingering tension in his legs from P.E. “It’s not what I expected, but at least this collar won’t be much of a problem after all.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Percy shrugged, she was now carrying Mimikyu in her arms like a doll, “I haven’t been to school since I was 5.”

“What?!” Deuce interceded.

“Well, some things happened when I was 5 and I couldn’t go to school anymore. That’s all I wish to say about it.” She said sternly as she hugged her Pokemon partner tightly to her chest, but then she loosened her grip on him, “Also things function differently in my reality. Kids go to school until they become eligible for a trainer’s license at 10. Then they usually go on Pokemon journeys, fighting in their region’s gym circuits, and then when they’re done, they go back for a few more years of school for jobs, unless they’re like me and they make a career in Pokemon battles.”

“Lucky.” Ace whined, “Can I go back with you to your reality? I wouldn’t mind traveling around the world with a bunch of powerful monsters, battling with other people for a living.”

“If I find a way to and back, why not? But I’m warning you, it’s not as easy as it sounds.” She warned.

“Still, it sounds so much fun,” Deuce said with admiration, “Don’t you think so Grim? Grim?”

Percy had a bad feeling about this…

They look around but the feline monster was nowhere to be seen. Mimikyu hissed, pointing toward the window with his extended black hand-like appendage to his trainer. Percy then saw a gray form running away in the courtyard.

“He’s cutting the class on the first day?!” she fumed at the insolence of the fiery feline.

“Boy, that guy is not a fast learner.” Deuce shook his head.

“Not a good look to lose your only student on your first day as Housewarden.” Ace smirked at the girl, making both her and her partner glare at him, “Want help catching him? I’ll do it if you buy me a chocolate croissant.”

“I’d do it for an iced latte at the cafeteria,” Deuce added with a smile.

“I will remember this,” Percy glared at them, then looked down the window to see how high it was, “To hell with you two!”

“Uh, Percy what are you doing?” the blue-haired boy asked as he looked at her worried when she sat on the window edge.

But Percy didn’t pay any mind to him, you see she guessed something like this could’ve happened, so she planned accordingly. Fool her once, shame on you. Fool her twice… there won’t be a second time.

She opened her parasol and jumped off the window with Mimikyu in her arms while yelling, “Mimikyu, Psychic!”

Mimikyu’s entire body started to glow light blue, then the glow spread to Percy too and he got them down slowly.

Percy then reached her belt for a Pokeball and pointed in Grim’s direction, “Fletchinder, Quick Attack!”

In a flash of light Fletchinder appeared, flew at Grim as fast as an arrow, and slammed into him. As he flew he left behind a white trail of energy with silver streaks inside it. Once Grim was on the ground Fletchinder grabbed him from behind of his collar with his talons and flew back to his trainer while the feline monster struggled to break free.

“Mrrah! I had it with these boring classes!” Grim screamed as Mimikyu grabbed him from Fletchinder by his tail from his spot on Percy’s shoulder as she dragged him back inside the building.

“Then you will never become a great mage!” she shouted back.

“UGH! When did you get all bossy?”

“I was always bossy, are you just noticing it now?”

“Wooo! Lunchtime at last!” To no one’s surprise on the way to the cafeteria Grim was on the lead, once he saw the buffet he was already drooling like a Snubbul, “Whoa! They got some good-lookin’ grub!”

“Hmm, a buffet. That’s unexpectedly fancy. Mimikyu,” As her partner handed her a tray, she checked out the choices. “Thank you, darling.”

Now, what to eat? Its lunch should keep it light, a tarragon chicken salad would do, lemon tea with a teaspoon of honey also meat buns for Mimikyu and Fletchinder. She calmly picked up her food, meanwhile…   

“Look how fluffy those omelets are!”

Her feline counterpart was drooling over everything on the buffet.

“Ooh, grilled chicken! And a bacon-and-egg tart!” Grim exclaimed with stars in his eyes.

“Shhh! Dude, inside voices!” Ace shushed him, shaking his head, “Where was this energy earlier today?”

“Percy, grab me the grilled chicken! There’s only one left! And an omelet too. and that jelly-filled bread. Just fill your whole tray with ‘em!” In his excitement, Grim bumped into another student. “Ow!”

“Hey! Watch where you’re goin’!” the boy then looked at his tray and stuttered, “M-my carbonara! You broke the yolk!”

 “Whoa, that’s messed up! Pokin’ the egg is the best part! You better make this right, pal!” his Buddy joined in.

“I’m gonna need that grilled chicken of yours as compensation.” The boy reached for the plate in the feline’s paws.

“Myah?! No way! Hands off the bird, chump!” Grim guarded his food,” I need my protein, because I am HANGRY!”

“Hey! That’s no way to speak to an upperclassman!” the Buddy shouted getting close to Grim, “Catch me outside and I’ll teach you some respect!”

“Hah, respect? Respect is for people with class. You two, however,” Percy ran to the feline’s aid, no one can bully her beasts when she was around, “not even worth the dirt to bury you in. So run along now little boys, while I’m still letting you,”

“Why, you—“

the boy tried to get in her face but Deuce got in between them. “Um, excuse me, sir, but it said in the handbook that fighting with magic was prohibited…”  

“Fighting? You got it all wrong. “ The assholes smirked, “ this is just me helpin’ an ignorant freshman know her place.”

“Now, let’s see just how many ways there are to skin a cat, heh!”

“Hmph, you two are not worth the effort,” Percy clicked her tongue, looking at them as if they were the mud on the bottom of her shoe, and turned to her partner with a sadistic glow in her eyes and a sharp grin, which reminded to those who were watching a certain Leech twin, “Mimikyu darling, can you please take out the trash?”

Que the two assholes hitting the wall behind the garbage cans.

“Thank you, love. Mangy little runts, not even fun to beat up.” She then turned and walked to an empty table.

“Pfft! I knew you were all talk! You better hope I never see you again!” Grim yelled at the knocked-out bullies and then walked toward his human.

The fight ended quickly. Like embarrassingly quick, but after seeing how easily the Disguise Pokemon kicked Cater’s ass this morning the boys weren’t that surprised. They were slowly getting used to how strong their otherworldly female friend and her familiars were.

“Can we just get some lunch already? I’m about to collapse.” The ginger boy whined and walked with the feline.

“I guess this is my life now.” Deuce sighed but followed them anyway. “I can’t believe this. Textbook bullies at an Academy that’s supposed to be famous for producing exceptional mages…”

The group was now all seated and happily eating their lunch.

“This omelet is as fluffy as a Cloud, and practically burstin’ with cheese!” Grim commented with his mouth full while munching on his food, ”So, I saw you guys’ dorm, but what are the other ones like?”

“Yes, I got to admit they pique my interest too.” Percy agreed, taking a sip of her tea.

“I’m sure you’re familiar with the statues of the Great Seven?” A familiar voice asked behind them.

They turned to see Cater approaching them with an unknown male with glasses, green hair, and a club under his left eye next to him. Mimikyu hissed at the orange-haired boy and was just about to use Shadow Claw when Percy stopped him by raising a hand, she was interested in what the boy was saying.

“Night Raven College has a dorm themed after each one.” Cater continued.

“Bwah! You’re that guy from this morning!” Ace yelped.

“You tricked us into paintin’ those dumb roses!” Grim growled with his paws on his hips.

“’Tricked’ is such an ugly word. Do you think I wanted to spend MY morning painting roses?” the orange-haired boy pouted, scratching the back of his head, “It’s dorm policy! I was just following orders.”

“Fletch Fletch Fletchinder.” The Ember Pokemon, who was now out of his Pokeball, happily pecking his meat bun, chirped. (Then maybe don’t smile like a fiend while doing it.)

Percy smiled at the comment her Pokemon made for a moment then turned to Cater with a neutral expression, “Still doesn’t change the fact that you did trick them to do your work,”

“Now, now, Percy. Outside of the dorm, I don’t care what rules you follow.” The orange-haired boy said with a cheerful tone, “Here, I’m just a friendly mentor figure!”

“I don’t recall giving you permission to call me Percy,” the blonde trainer glared at him coldly, making his smile drop, “And you better be, unless you want to taste another round of Shadow Ball from Mimikyu.”

“Ah ha ha. That’s just how Cater shows he cares.” The green-haired boy laughed, then pointed at the empty seats at their table, “May we sit?”

“Fine,” Percy said after she took a second to contemplate, “I’ll allow it.”

“And who are you?” Ace asked the stranger slowly.

“Ah, I should introduce myself. The name’s Trey. Trey Clover. I’m a junior at Heartslabyul, like Cater here.” He introduced himself after they sat, then turned to Percy, “And you must be Persephone Remmington, the new Beast Master Housewarden of Ramshackle dorm. I heard the whole story from Cater. Thanks for looking out for our boys yesterday.”

“no harm, no foul,” Percy paid him no mind and got back to her salad.

“I’m sitting right here.” Ace pouted but his words were ignored.

“Hey now, we’re all from the same dorm, right? Let’s try to get along.” Cater teased then pulled out his phone and held it out, “Here, gimme your digits.”

“I can do that!”

Percy’s Rotomphone flew out of her backpack and up to Cater’s phone to type the number with a mischievous emoji on its screen, making him recoil in surprise.

“Wow, that’s unexpected,” Trey’s eyes widened.

“Rotom! Don’t do that!” Percy yelled sternly and quickly grabbed her Rotomphone from where it floated, “You know that I don’t like you to going up in people’s faces like that and don’t you think that I forgot about your stunt from this morning, we’re going to have a talk when we get home.”

“I’m sorry but I couldn’t help myself, my queen.” The emoji on Rotomphone’s screen pouted, “I just had to show the people of this world that you’re the most wonderful Pokemon Champion of all.”

“O-M-G!” Cater exclaimed before Percy could talk, his eyes were sparkling as he looked at the purple phone in awe, “That’s the most amazing phone I’ve ever seen in my life! What brand is it? Where can I find it?”

“I don’t think you can find anything like Rotom around here,” Percy tried to end the subject and put her Rotomphone on the table screen down but the next thing she knew, Cater’s face was right in front of her, uncomfortably so.

“Aww, come on don’t be like that. You and I can make it a phone-shopping date!” Cater winked, making Percy cringle her nose in disgust.

“Cater, you’re freaking out the freshmen.” Trey pulled back his friend, staring nervously at the hissing Disguise Pokemon, “Maybe take it down a notch?”

“Ha! Sorry! I can get a little extra sometimes. What were we talking about…  The dorms, yeah?” The orange-haired boy giggled as he sat back in his seat, “Ah, what fun to mentor new students! Go ahead, A-M-A.”

“Before you get into the other dorms, I wouldn’t mind learning a bit more about ours.” Ace spoke up, crossing his arms as he glared at the collar around his neck, “Like, what’s the deal with all this ‘Queen of Hearts’ rule number whatever’ junk?”

“I’m sure you’re familiar with the legendary Queen of Hearts already?” Trey asked making the freshmen group collectively nod, “She had to rule over a kingdom of weirdos, and did it by emphasizing order and making strict rules.”

“Our dorm, Heartslabyul, is an homage to her.” Cater added, “By tradition, we wear armbands with red and black of the Queen’s dress. And we live by the rules she created.”

Percy looked at her own armband, she just chose two of her favorite colors and didn’t think too much about the symbolism. Guess that was one of the perks of making a new dorm from the ashes of its former self. Now Ramshackle dorm was whatever Percy wanted it to be.

“Not as much as you, my queen, but she is indeed an impressive monarch with a list of rules longer than the Kalos Pokedex!” her Rotomphone spoke as Percy picked it up to see that, it was showing her all 810 rules of the Queen of Hearts.

“Huh,” Percy hummed as she took a sip of her tea.

She did hear from the ghosts around the school, how strict the red-headed boy she saw at the orientation was, but she didn’t expect him to be strict enough to hold teenagers accountable on 810 rules. That was just unnecessarily cruel and an unrealistic goal, teenagers don’t even follow the easiest rules let alone the ones as strict as these.

“Pfft.” Grim scoffed with a bored expression, “Can you make me any more bored?”

“Now, the degree to which we adhere to the rules depends on the sitting Housewarden.” The orange-haired boy explained with a sheepish look, “Past wardens have been much more lax.”

“Riddle though? He doesn’t mess around.” Trey continued for his friend, “Basically, you could say that we’re honoring that tradition to the utmost extent possible.”

“Bleah. Just my luck…” Ace groaned.

“Fletch Fletchinder,” The Ember Pokemon chirped as he perched on his trainer’s shoulder, who scratched his head, now that he finished his meat bun. (That’s rough Buddy.)

 “So what are the other dorms like, then?” Grim interceded.

“As Cater mentioned earlier, the dorms of this school are themed after the Great Seven. We have our dorm, Heartslabyul, modeled after the strictness of the Queen of Hearts. To run down the rest of them for you, we have…” Trey explained in order, ” Savanaclaw, based on the persistent spirit of the King of Beasts. Octavinelle, based on the benevolent heart of the Sea Witch. Scarabia, based on the mindful personality of the Sorcerer of the Sands. Pomefiore, based on the tenacity of the Fairest Queen. Ignihyde, based on the diligence of the King of the Underworld. And finally, Diasomnia, based on the noble spirit of the Thorn Fairy.”

Percy remembered the names from yesterday, she only liked the last two, the rest she didn’t care for. But her feline counterpart on the other hand was looking quite overwhelmed.

“all those names are way too long!” Grim cried, “How’s anyone supposed to remember ‘em?”

“Ah ha ha! Well, you get the idea.” Cater laughed, “Want to or not, you’ll learn them soon enough.”

“At orientation, the Dark Mirror picks a dorm for you based on the essence of your being.” Trey continued to explain, “As a result, each dorm ends up with a distinct sort of… flavor, we’ll call it.”

“That is sooo true. I totes see it.” Cater agreed.

“’Flavor,’ huh…?” Deuce asked with a confused look.

“For example, look at that guy,” Trey said as he pointed at a tan, muscular boy with a pair of cute fluffy Lycanroc ears. “That rough-and-tumble vibe he’s got has Savanaclaw House written all over it.”

“I can’t express how much I want to pet his ears,” Percy smiled as she pushed her finished tray aside and rested her chin on her palm.

“No doubt. That dorm is full of scrappy guys who are into, like, working out and fighting.” Cater nodded in agreement and then described the dorm, “How should I describe the vibe…? Macho dudes? Gruff big brothers? Something along those lines. The black and gold armband is another giveaway.”

“Huh. All right, so what about that guy with the grey and purple cord wrapped around his arm?”

Grim pointed to the silver-haired boy with glasses Percy saw at the orientation, who was looking in their direction too. Well, more like looking at her Pokemon, which made Percy glare at him. Once he noticed her glare he turned back to chat with a pair of twins that sit across him.

“He’s gotta be from Octavinelle House.” Trey answered the feline monster and then pointed to the table Kalim and Jamil were sitting at, “And the student at the table in front of him has a red and gold armband—“

“Scarabia’s colors.” Percy answered for him.

When the cute Oshawott in human form known as Kalim noticed Percy looking his way, he smiled widely and excitedly waved at her.

“Oh? You know them?” Trey asked surprised.

“You can say that,” the blonde trainer said as she waved back to the little Oshawott.

“Those dorms are for the smart students. They’re always neck-and-neck in the academic rankings.” Cater said with a grin, “Ah, but the current Housewarden of Scarabia doesn’t seem to be all that great of a student…”

“Cater if you insult my adorable little Oshawott again, we’re going to have a problem, you and I.” Percy threatened the orange-haired boy, who immediately raised his hands in surrender.

“Okay… Let’s get back on topic.” Trey intervened before things could get heated and pointed to the table where a large group of students with the best postures Percy had seen in this school sat, “You see the flashy ones with the purple and red armband? Those are Pomefiore colors.”

“Whoa!” Grim jumped out of his seat and pointed to a student with remarkable lavender locks, “The girl with the potion books, I really like her!”

“What’s SHE doing in a boys’ school?!” Deuce yelped.

“Mimikyu,”

*SMACK*

“OUCH!” both Deuce and Grim shouted as they rubbed their cheeks where the Disguise Pokemon slapped them with his black appendages.

“Thank you, love.” Percy then turned to the two of the idiots in their group, “One, I’m right here, and two, are you two blind? That’s a boy. I’m the only girl here.”

Yes, he had a very feminine face but he was obviously a boy.

“WHAAAT?!”

Mimikyu smacked them again but they already got the attention of the lavender-haired boy.

“Speaking of girls, there’s a portrait in the west hall who’s a real beauty. Name’s Rosaria.” Cater teased the boys with a cheeky grin, “If you’d like to meet her, I’d be happy to introduce you. Maybe we can set something up?”

“A painting? Hard pass!” Ace loudly declined, “I don’t care how cute she is if she’s two-dimensional!”

  “Come on, man. Who cares how many dimensions she’s got! Anyway, they take vanity pretty seriously at Pomefiore.” Cater explained, humming delightfully, “It’s basically a dorm full of models. Their Housewarden has 5,000,000 followers on Magica, but don’t worry Housewarden Remmington, I’m sure you’ll top him in no time with how quickly you reached 1mil already.”

5 million was not bad, not bad at all. But it was nothing next to her 47.5 million followers in Pokevision.

“Hey now, they’re not all just pretty faces.” Trey cut in, “The students at Pomefiore are among the best at potions and casting curses.”

“Heh heh. True dat,” Cater laughed, “Next, we have Ignihyde… Their armbands are blue and black, but I don’t see any around here. They tend not to be the most outgoing of students. Even I don’t have a single friend from that dorm. They’re kind of the polar opposite of us sunny, fun-loving Heartslabyuls.”

“So they’re gloomy and miserable?” Grim blurted out.

“Now, now Grim,” Percy scolded as she petted Mimikyu’s head, which made him purr with affection even though it came out as creepy cackles to the boys, “There’s nothing wrong with enjoying solitude in darkness.”

“Yeah,” Trey agreed, “They just have a reputation for being quiet and serious, is all. That dorm tends to attract magical-energy engineers and students who are good with tech.”

‘Tinkatuff would love that dorm, and they would love Magearna.’ Percy thought. ‘Maybe they can replicate Pokeballs, if more wild Pokemon appeared in this reality I might need them.’

“And that just leaves… Diahonyalara, was it?” Deuce muttered the last part silently and quickly hoping no one noticed that he totally butchered the name.

“You were off to a good start, and then you rammed right into the guardrails.” Ace facepalmed, “It’s ‘Diasomnia.’”

“I know that! I just misspoke, all right?” the blue-haired boy lied while he blushed with embarrassment.

“Diasomnia House is, hm…” Cater glanced around before his eyes fell on a few students, “Ah, look over there. Those guys are in the special seating area. You can tell from the neon green and black armbands. They’re basically campus celebrities. The vibe they give off makes it really hard for regular schmucks like us to even approach them. And their Housewarden is that times a thousand.”

Percy, for the life of her, couldn’t understand what Cater was talking about. She didn’t sense an unapproachable vibe from them, to her the only thing out of ordinary was one petit boy, who looked fairly young. His blazer was draped over his shoulders, probably because he was small and his cropped black hair with magenta-pink streaks looked like he deeply offended his hairdresser. His pointy ears and blood-red eyes were another subject.

Then again she never had a normal sense of approachability, her specializing in Ghost Pokemon was proof of that.

“There’s a little kid in that group!”

And apparently, he stood out to Ace too.

“Ah, we do get some child prodigies here. But that guy there is no kid. He’s a junior like us. Name’s—“

But Trey was cut off by that very person, who was now hanging upside down in front of them. From up close, he reminded Percy of a Noibat.

“Lilia. Lilia Vanrouge.”

BWAH?!

The whole table shrieked. Except for Percy, she was around Ghost Pokemon since she was 5, Jump scares didn’t phase her anymore.

“H-he just teleported!” Grim yelped.

Lilia then gracefully jumped to the floor, no longer floating, with a very amused grin. “I understand my apparent age interests you? As this bespectacled fellow accurately noted… Despite my fresh-faced, boyish good looks, it would be inaccurate to call me a ‘child.’”

“’ Fresh-faced’ he says…” Trey muttered in disbelief.

Lilia’s magenta eyes then looked into Percy’s emerald greens as he tilted his head with interest.

His father senses were tingling, he just knew that the blonde girl was an orphan. She had that look in her eyes, the look all orphans had, the look you get when you’ve been left alone. He just couldn’t stand seeing that look in children’s eyes. “Greetings, young miss.” He reached out a hand.

On Percy’s end, she could see in his eyes that he was much, much older than he seemed. His eyes were very old and she could tell that he had seen too much, “Greetings,” she shook his hand.

“You need not gawk at us from afar. You may feel free to speak with us directly. We are schoolmates, are we not? All of us at Diasomnia House welcome you without reservation,” Lilia bowed with all the poise of someone who’d been trained in it and extended his arm towards his table.

“And yet, those guys over there aren’t exactly Rolling out the red carpet in terms of approachability…” Deuce remarked.

Lilia glanced at the silver-haired young man and a taller boy with slick mint-green hair, who was glaring at them and chuckled before turning back to the group, “Forgive me for appearing above you during your meal. I do hope we can speak again.” On his way out, he grinned at Percy in particular.

“Their table has got to be over twenty yards away from ours.” Ace whispered to Trey, “And they overheard our conversation? That’s WAY creepy!”

“Well…” Trey readjusted his glasses, “Diasomnia House does have a bit of a reputation for having lots of special students. Some of them are extremely talented at magic. Their Housewarden, Malleus Draconia, is considered one of the five best mages in the world.”

“Malleus is reeeeeal bad news. Though I suppose the same could be said of our own dear Housewarden.” Cater winked.

“No kidding! He collared me for eating one slice of tart!” Ace ranted, “All of his rule obsession is outta control!”

‘There he goes again’ Percy thought, she had listened to him whine about his Housewarden all mourning. And as fun, as it may be to watch him be miserable at the beginning, it was starting to get old. But then Percy noticed the short red-haired boy approaching them hearing Ace complain, and She had to hold herself from breaking into a fit of laughter.

“My ‘rule obsession’ is ‘outta control,’ is it?” the red-haired Housewarden drawled out, deceptively calm.

“You bet it is.” Ace kept going, not noticing he was digging his grave deeper, “Riddle’s just a petty tyrant who leans into the whole ‘rules’ schtick as a pretext to keep everyone under his puny thumb!”

“You’re an Imbecile, gingernuts,” Percy mused, watching the comical scene, while Mimikyu and Fletchinder snickered at the ginger boy’s misfortune.

“Ace! Behind you!” Deuce harshly whispered as he kept pointing behind Ace.

“Bwah!” the ginger boy cried once he finally turned around, looking as pale as a ghost, “Housewarden!”

#twisted wonderland x pokemon #twst oc #twisted wonderland #twst x pokemon #TGQTA

[ladyfenring]

top 5 media that's eaten holes in ur brain?

Definitely the Lord of the Rings. While my sixth grade social studies teacher was trying to teach us about the Iron Curtain ya girl was handwriting the most unhinged tenth walker fanfiction on college ruled notebook paper. I daydreamed constantly about losing my virginity to Legolas. I first found out what slash fanfiction was because I was looking for Legolas fanfiction and stumbled across a Legolas/Aragorn whump angelfire site. Everyone else needs to get on my level.

West Side Story. My high school theatre department once vowed to massacre me (their words, not mine) if I didn't stop talking about West Side Story. This musical...I simply can't explain it. I think it's one of those things you latch onto because you haven't realized things about yourself yet. Anyway the fact that I latched onto the little lesbian with Gender Things should say. A lot.

The Last Kingdom but like. I just think the story is so interesting because it always fails for the sake of uplifting the main character. I think this happens occasionally with other media, I think plots and characterization are occasionally sacrificed for the sake of an overarching story or character arc, but with TLK, it's almost laughable in its consistency. The most interesting and well-written plots and characters are continually slammed down time and again for the plot that is England's birth through Uhtred's eyes. Idk. I'm fascinated by it.

Barkskins. The way there were all these extremely underscored supernatural elements, to the point where you don't know if they're even real, in the background of this other, bigger plot, Old World vs New World, colonizers vs colonized, the ingroups turning on each other until no one is left...it spoke to me!!! One of the few shows I'm sad was canceled in its prime.

Picnic at Hanging Rock. I am literally ALWAYS thinking about those girls and what happened on that mountain.

[readsofawe]

During the Days of Awe, I read 10 books, covering 21 out of the 25 bingo squares and netting me 7 bingos! Here they all are, in the order I read them:

The Yiddish Policeman's Union by Michael Chabon [out of your comfort zone, science fiction, blue cover]

A Moon for Moe and Mo by Jane Breskin Zalben [picture book]

Autonomous by Annalee Newitz [science fiction, LGBT rep]

The Mathematician's Shiva by Stuart Rojstaczer [contemporary, about forgiveness, audiobook]

Burning Girls and Other Stories by Veronica Schanoes [short story, fantasy, non-Holocaust historical, LGBT rep, fall colors]

The Deep by Rivers Solomon [novella, Jewish author of color, LGBT rep] (other editions have blue covers but the one I own doesn't)

It's a Whole Spiel ed. Katherine Locke and Laura Silverman [YA, short stories, blue cover, about renewal, LGBT rep, frum rep, contemporary, fantasy]

A Ceiling Made of Eggshells by Gail Carson Levine [MG/children's, non-holocaust historical, arguably also frum rep]

Cool for the Summer by Dahlia Adler [YA, LGBT Rep, contemporary]

We are Satellites by Sarah Pinsker [science fiction, LGBT rep, audiobook]

+ the Torah portions for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur [translation, Torah/Haftora]

+ the poem "How Divine is Forgiving" by Marge Piercy [poetry]

I read a lot, and even for me, that's a staggering amount of reading! My brain feels. A little microwaved (although tbh that could be the fasting). I also took and posted photographs every day, engaged with other people on three different social media platforms, got retweeted by authors I really admire (Dahlia Adler! Sasha Lamb!), gave a lot of people an opportunity to self promo, and more people a reason to think about Jewish books.

I had an absolute blast. I'm 100% doing this again next year.

More thoughts below the cut!

As I read, a few themes kept recurring. None of them are in all of books, but all are in at least a few:

Math and Science: Biochemists, mathematical geniuses, chess prodigies, girls who count to keep calm, quiz bowl champs—these pages are full of analytical minds trying to fit their worlds into quantitative spaces. The narratives values intelligence, but also, intelligence isn't always enough to save the characters.

Activism: These protagonists march for gun control, pirate drugs to circumvent Big Pharma, run for office, negotiate with royalty, spill stories to the press. Even the protagonist of The Yiddish Policeman's Union, who considers himself deliberately apolitical, is swept up in his world's politics. So many of the narratives are explicit in their politics. It's not implied or made metaphor, but direct.

Diaspora: In every historical story I read, the Jews repeat to themselves and each other, we are safe here, with the narrative signposting that um, no they're not. It's in the science fiction as well. The characters are waiting for the rug to be pulled. Home is never something that lasts forever.

Family Drama: Many of these stories have familial relationships at the forefront, and they're often pretty rough. Parents and children consistently fail to understand one another. Spouses lie and fight and divorce. Siblings undermine each other. And yet almost none of the stories have families who are estranged from one another. All of these families keep trying and trying.

Anxiety: Jewish writers need to fucking chill (myself 100% included). These characters are scared of talking to girls, scared of talking to boys, scared of being honest with their feelings. They're certain that the people around them are hostile (and to be fair, sometimes they're right), they struggle to talk in groups, they compulsively check on their loved ones. Just a stressed group of people.

Joy: Especially in darkness, joy. Music and dancing are common. So is sex. Lots of these books are comedies—the ones with the direst subject matter have the lightest tones.

If you put these things all together—intellectualism, activism, rootlessness, family, anxiety, joy—plus the thing implied by the existence of Jewish books—art—you get about as good a summary of the Jewish Experience as is possible. Or maybe just the Human Experience.

I wonder if these themes will persist in my reading next year, or if I'll find other commonalties among those books. I'm excited to find out!

#readsofawe #if you did this post your own bingo! #it's chill if you didn't get one I'm just so curious