#this sweater is gonna be covered in moths

[likethevalley]

The start of the moth sweater

#this sweater is gonna be covered in moths #and im very excited for it #art #hand embroidery #embroidery #my art #slow art #moth art #crafts #visible mending #moth sweater

[illmetkismet]

I don't know why, but I felt the need to write a missing scene in the mines where Luis gives Leon a sweater:

----

"Feeling better?" Luis asks, flipping his lighter open and closed, lighting it, making the little flame dance between his fingers, hoping it doesn't give away how unnerving it had been to see Leon like that, black veins creeping up his arms and his neck, spidering up the sides of his jaw.

Leon is looking down at his hand, mindlessly flexing his fingers when he says, "Yeah, seems like it worked."

Leon should be overjoyed, Luis thinks, to be pulled back from that brink, but his voice sounds small and a strange sort of hollow, not helped by the echo that the mineshaft makes of his words. The lighter weaves between Luis' fingers, practiced motions that help take the edge off the reality of the situation. A Little trick. A show. Only Leon's not looking.

As Luis starts to explain - "Bad news?" - Leon picks up the remaining suppressant injector, staring down at it and then away, some kind of unreachable emptiness playing across his face. Undeterred, Luis goes on speaking, probably to himself. "All we've done is buy you some time. The suppressant's effects will wear off all too soon."

Still Leon doesn't look up, his fingers curling around the injector like it's something precious.

Luis watches him, takes in the purpling nailbeds of his blunt fingers, the gooseflesh prickling up his arms. His shirt is clinging to him in a way that seems moist and uncomfortable, body armour velcroed tightly against it. The straps of his elbow pads have rubbed red raw patches into the insides of his arms. His neck had felt clammy and cool when Luis injected the suppressant there earlier.

Leon doesn't seem to have noticed that Luis stopped talking, or the way he's looking him up and down, brows knit together.

So Luis says, "But I have something else for you," with a click of his tongue, as though he just remembered, as though he hasn't been thinking of it the whole way here, to this cold and dusty subterranean place.

Leon does look up at that, expression turning quizzical. It makes Luis breathe out a little wisp of relief, this show of life on Leon's face, and he hums a bit tunelessly as he pushes off the girder he's been leaning against, picking up an old moth-eaten sweater, trying to discreetly shake as much filth out of it as he can before holding it up by the shoulders and announcing, "Ta-da!"

Leon looks skeptical.

"It's wool," Luis offers encouragingly. "Should keep you warm and dry. Well, warmer and dryer than that soaked through shirt of yours has been managing."

Leon continues to look skeptical, but only for a few seconds longer, and then he's reaching for the sweater with one hand, the other hand already busy undoing the fastenings of his body armour and then the too-tight straps of his chafing elbow pads.

"Itchy," he complains as he pulls it over his head, but Luis catches the grateful shudder that goes through him as the sweater covers some of the pale-cold-damp expanse of him. "Where'd you get this?"

It's a plain dark grey thing, the kind the fishermen of Valdelobos wore, with the high neck and the loose sleeves. Of course, the sleeves aren't loose around the muscle of Leon's arms - a fact that isn't lost on Luis and his not-so-furtive glances.

He tries not to look overlong. Says instead, "In the village."

Leon makes a thoughtful face as he straps all of his soggy gear back on over the sweater. "Guess no one's gonna be needing it anymore."

His comment is followed by silence, the only sounds between them the rustling and sliding of straps being adjusted. Luis doesn't think he means to be callous or cruel, but his usual easy smile falters all the same at the remark, and when Leon's gaze lifts back up to his face what he finds there makes his mouth tighten with something that might be the precursor to an apology.

"I suppose you are right," Luis is quick to offer, summoning up a lopsided smile, careful not to scare Leon off, not to offend with his own dangerous brush with offence. "The dead have no use for such things."

"Well. Thanks," Leon rasps out. "Lucky that you picked it up."

Yes, lucky, Luis thinks. Doesn't think about how, up close, back at the cabin, the corners of Leon's mouth looked tinged with blue. How his fist, where it brushed against the exposed skin of his chest when he pinned him back against the wall, felt ice cold. Doesn't think about Leon shivering, after - something he only caught out the corner of his eye, before Leon tightened his jaw and drew up his shoulders and breathed in slow through his nose to stop the involuntary motion.

It had been a risky search for the sweater, but Luis doesn't think about that either.

He just says, "Yes, lucky."

Leon shoots him a weak smile, and Luis' own answering smile feels a bit too lukewarm for his liking, the cold and the damp creeping into his bones. The blue tinge is still there at the corners of Leon's mouth-- Why is he looking at his mouth?

Leon looks like he's about to say something more, but Luis is already asking, "You ready to go?", anxious to get moving again, to break the chill of this moment.

He fixes Leon with one last appraising look, and Leon thins his bloodless lips for a second before he says, "Don't worry about me. Ashley is the priority." He punctuates his words with a distracted shake of his head, as though it's unthinkable that anyone should worry about him at all, and it makes something stir in Luis' chest, a writhing sort of ache he tries to ignore.

So he grins at Leon instead, taking the cue to shift focus to Ashley and away from whatever it had just been, says, "In that case, we know what we have to do," reaching for the pipe that is not a lance, reaching for a fiction, and off they go.

#serennedy #luis serra #leon kennedy #resident evil #my fic #kinda?

[radioves]

i saw a bunch of other people doing trafficsonas and since its come to my attention that cringe culture can burn ive decided to make my own lol

still on the fence about the skull and bone charm thing. idk someone give me feedback and i might change it out or remove it

this is ermine. his name isnt permanent i might change it considering its literally just polilla’s dads name. also if it isnt obvious hes based off polilla bc my current skin doesnt have much to work off of

lives in a cave in the middle of the tundra because its ‘easier to defend’, which is codeword for ‘who the hell would put effort into building a house when you got a house built by mother nature herself right here’

literal menace. finds joy in blowing up peoples houses despite the current life hes on. also disappeared for the entire first session just to breed an entire army of dogs for the sole reason of He Could

depending on his life, his pupil color and sword gem changes color, while the badges on his sash crack and stop glowing. theres also moths on the back of his shawl that change color, and starting from green life as he loses lives he also loses moths, until hes only left with a big red moth on his last life [queue laugh track]

the beads are random colors but the ones on his dogs do correlate to the life theyre on- btw if your wondering why the heart colors are weird its bc i just color picked from his outfit and just turn the saturation and brightness up, hence why green is yellow and yellow is orange

i am planning* [*see : rotating it in my mind] on making a traffic hc post about how the players make their clothes, but the basics is they spawn in with their clothes from other servers, but as their clothes get torn up from classic scuffles such as Dying, they have to make new clothes with what they have to work with, for example: wool, leather, string, cotton / hemp / other plant-based materials, furs, etc.

as for ermine, he spawns in with his base clothes [sweater, pants, and boots] and has to make the rest of his clothes with various leathers and fur. and for the select few of you asking where he got the polar bear parts: um uh uhm,,, i personally believe that the map he plays in is alot bigger and encompasses more biomes, including cold biomes such as his tundra and also frozen oceans.

its kinda like a uhc game in a way if you think about it, with a bigger but still enclosed map, and the border slowly closes in each session until all the players are forced into the middle and ok i need to just make a proper post for this stuff Moving on

the dog breeding deal kinda backfires on him when he dies to a skeleton while farming bones [he just like me fr [bc he is]]

after that he kinda begins to realize ‘damn. im gonna die’ and starts wearing the mask more, kinda as a threat, bc we all know characters with masks are more mysterious and therefor dangerous. except for him bc he runs at the sight of any conflict as he is absolute ASS at fighting. hence the blowing everything up part

when he dies again his were-aspect starts to show itself in places like him growing wolf and dragon parts and scales and fur showing up on his face and limbs. its kinda annoying but he supposes its useful considering it also comes with heightened senses + partial night vision

and now red life. This is when it all goes downhill for everyone including him

like all stereotypical weres, he loses the majority of his sense of humanity and just starts going literally, as the cool kids say, off the shits- he doesnt hesitate to attack everyone and anyone, even if it risks him getting killed in the process. there is no stops for this man, someone is going to die and it doesnt matter who

yes he still has his dogs, at least the ones that remain, though at this point hes less a commander and more one of them, attacking in one big pack of fluffy piranhas

dubbed ‘the bloodhound’, he attacks mainly under the cover of dark, be it at night or in dark places like caves. just like his namesake, once he gets a scent on his next victim, he will track them down to the ends of time until they finally turn and fight back

the name ‘bloodhound’ comes from the concept of werewolves shifting during the full moon, the inherent violence of red lifes, the fact that hes literally a dog, bloodmoons, his red circle markings, etc. etc. tl;dr its cool

#if anythings spelt wrong sorry i dont care lol #trafficsona #trafficblr #digital art #artists on tumblr #illustration #:0

[bd-wlf]

Sorry to repost this, found it on pinterest, but just the last line "...Beezlebub made it, just as Crowley makes his clothes" HE WHAT HE MAKES HIS CLOTHES

I'm now picturing crowley bent over a sweing machine at ungodly hours of the night painstakingly making something for the next day because she's meeting Aziraphale at the park.

Or Crowley going into one of those fabric stores and buying a magazine/booklet that had a really pretty dress on the cover and following the pattern inside to make it.

Upcycling an old shirt or a sweater that moths had eaten through into something different.

Just gonna be thinking about this for a while

#good omens crowley #good omens 2

[wannabe-fic-writer]

WandaNat x Reader : Falling For You

Summary: You finally get everything you ever could’ve wanted.

Covers the “Campfire/Fireplace” square for fall bingo. 

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2,169

* * * * * * 

This was a terrible idea. One you knew you would come to regret agreeing to, but at the moment you were asked to participate, you couldn’t possibly say no.

With the two pairs of gorgeous green eyes staring at you coupled with an annoyingly knowing smirk and an adorable pout, there was no way you could deny their request. 

That’s how you find yourself hiking a trail over fallen leaves, shivers rolling over your body as your two best friends chat away at your side. 

They keep their voices at a low whisper, not allowing you to hear or be a part of their conversation. While you would normally feel some kind of way about it, you’re far too cold to sulk about it.

You furiously run your uncovered hands up and down your arms, hoping the friction of your jacket would warm you up and combat the cold surrounding you. 

Apparently neither of them remembered to check the weather for the day. When you asked Natasha said it was fall and shrugged. 

So you dressed accordingly, jeans, boots, a sweater and a jacket. It isn’t enough. It’s much colder than a normal fall day, instead it feels like the beginning of winter. 

You look down at your feet. The crunch of the leaves beneath your boots is a little louder than usual since the morning dew had frozen, adding a small layer of ice over the dead foliage. 

A huff falls from your lips and you drop your hands, shoving them into your pockets instead. It’s not like your rubbing was doing anything. 

“How much further is this secret destination?” You ask.

Both women look over at you, small frowns on their faces at your tone of voice. You hadn’t meant to snap at them but cold was starting to affect your mood. 

You smile apologetically and Natasha rolls her eyes and chuckles. Wanda knocks her elbow against Natasha’s arm, then moves to your other side.

She wraps her arm around your waist and pulls you close,“ it won’t be much longer detka.” 

“Yeah,” Natasha pulls your hand from your pocket and laces your fingers with hers,“ we’re almost there dorogoy.” 

Detka, dorogoy, lyubov. You have no idea what those words mean but she and Natasha were always calling you them. Sly little smiles would form on their lips when they did and you’d wish you knew why. All they would tell you is that it’s Russian and not a bad thing.

When Natasha squeezes your hand, Wanda lays her head on your shoulder, and you sigh. 

It was things like this that made your friendship with them hard. 

The two of them have been dating since before you even met. You first ran into them at the coffee shop you worked at. They came in and took a seat at a table in the corner and you approached them, almost instantly commenting on how cute they were together. 

Your one comment led to a friendship you couldn’t imagine you’d find with anyone else. Which also led to feelings developing that you fought tooth and nail to reject. 

They first came for Wanda, the younger woman being the first to hangout with you one on one. Her sweet and empathetic behavior and words drew you in like a moth to a flame. 

Then you started spending time with Natasha. Your first hangout was awkward to say the least. You aren’t the most outgoing and Natasha was closed off, it caused very little conversation and very long silences. 

Both of you were tempted to not hangout again without Wanda, but decided to give it one more go. Which is exactly what you needed. You can’t recall how the day started but it ended with you two having a blast at a cat cafe. Your mutual love for the soft purring animal made you close. 

Every second you spent with them made you fall faster. Rejecting your feelings stopped being an option once they’d gotten so strong. Now you try your best to ignore it, though that doesn’t work much either.

Especially not when they’re so affectionate with you like this. 

“Look look, we’re here.” Wanda says, squeezing you excitedly. 

Natasha smiles and shakes her head at her girlfriend’s excitement and as you all turn the curve, your destination now in sight, she looks at you. 

Her smile widens as she watches your eyes brighten. 

To anyone else, a cabin in the woods might not mean much but both women know that to you it's much more than that. A tradition to put it quite plainly.

Your parents made it a point to take you to a cabin when the season changed, wanting you to experience nature and such. 

You hated it at first but it grew to mean so much to you. Not just growing to appreciate nature but also loving every moment spent with your parents, loving the memories you made with them. 

“Wait,” your eyes move from the cabin to Wanda then Nat,“ are we staying here?” 

Pink lips form into the perfect smile and she nods.“ We know you haven’t been in a long time.”

The passing of your parents was rough, without them you never found the will to come to a cabin again even though you’d considered it. When you were finally ready, you didn’t have the time.

Of course you’d shared these thoughts with your best friends and you knew they were listening, but you didn’t think they’d do something about what you told them.

While you were lost in thought, the women were worried. You weren’t saying anything and they couldn’t help but wonder if they’d overstepped. 

Their plan would completely go up in flames if you were uncomfortable with this. 

Swallowing, Wanda unhooks her arm from yours and steps in front of you.“ Y/n, detka, we don’t want you to be uncomfortable so if you don’t want to stay we won’t.”

Her words pull you from your thoughts and you register what she said, which makes you immediately protest. 

“No, no,” you gently grab her hand, squeezing hers and Natasha’s.“ I want to stay I just, was thinking. This is really sweet of you two, thank you.” 

They share a smile, then Wanda excitedly tugs on your hand.“ You haven’t seen the inside yet, come on.” 

With more excitement than you and Natasha combined, Wanda pulls you both to the cabin. She shows you around as if this isn’t her first time being here. You notice she doesn’t mention the bedroom situation but you chalk that up to her excitement and figure there are two bedrooms. 

“This place is beautiful,” you all stop in the living room where you plop down on one of the cozy chairs.“ but I can’t stay. I don’t even have clothes.”

“Oh we took care of that.” Natasha waves you off as she moves off to the side in search of something. 

Wanda answers your confusion.“ What did you think I was doing when I went to your bedroom?”

You nod in understanding, recalling how she stayed behind you and Natasha the whole way down to the car and dipped away to the trunk before you pulled off. 

“Always thinkin of everything huh?” You joke, slouching in your seat. 

Frowning, Wanda comes over to you and reaches down to grab your hands,“ don’t get comfortable here, we’re gonna go sit by the lake and watch the sunset.” She adds a pout and pulls on your hands.

“But it’s so cold out.” You whine, dropping your weight back to make it harder for her to pull you up. 

She doesn’t give up though, continuing and struggling to pull you up. 

A sudden presence appears behind you, the redhead whom you love lowers herself, her mouth right beside your ear.“ Come on dorogoy, we’ll start a fire. Keep you nice and toasty.” Her hand gently rubs your arm and all you can do is nod, seemingly put in a trance by her sultry voice flowing straight into your ear.

Letting up, you allow Wanda to pull you up and you follow the two outside. 

The younger woman laces her fingers with yours as you walk down to the lake. It’s across the trail through a small stretch of trees. 

It’s a welcome sight, seeing the expanse of trees on the other side of the lake and the rocks and logs surrounding a makeshift fire pit. 

You and Wanda sit on a log, taking in the scenery while Natasha set up the fire. The instant you shiver Wanda wraps her arm around you, pulling you into her side and rubbing your arm. You resist the urge to sigh this time, especially when you look over and see the happy smile on her lips. 

The second the fire is lit you feel its warmth added to the body heat coming from Wanda. It knocks the initial chills away, but it’s not until Natasha comes to sit at your other side, that you start to warm up internally. 

She takes your hand, squeezing it as she speaks,“ Y/n there’s another reason we brought you out here.” With a small frown of curiosity you look over at her. Taking a deep breath, she meets your eyes and continues,“ f-for a while now, myself and Wanda have been wondering um,” she stops to collect her words and you’re left utterly shocked.

In the year of you knowing her, not once had you ever seen the redhead look so nervous and be at a loss for words. She is the most badass person you’d ever met and right now a red blush is rising on her cheeks.

“Wondering what?” You decide to turn your attention to Wanda, figuring that Nat could calm down if she weren’t the only center of attention, only to find the brunette is also blushing.“ What is it Wan?” 

Her soft green eyes rise to look into yours and she swallows.“ Well, we figured out that um, we started to feel differently towards you. Like, the feelings we had for each other became feelings that we both had for you.” 

It takes everything in you not to freeze up at her confession. A number of emotions swirl through you and you open your mouth to say something, only to register one particular word.

“Had?”

Wanda’s eyes widen but Natasha answers.“ Have. We currently feel this way about you and we were wondering if you would be interested in being with us?” 

Your face suddenly splits into a grin, one that both women immediately adore seeing.“ Are you being serious?” You ask and they both nod.

All this time you’d been falling for them and it turns out they’d fallen for you too. 

A quiet snicker escapes your lips and you shake your head, earning slightly confused looks from the women.“ You know, if I didn’t have feelings for you two this would’ve been a terrible plan.” 

While you can’t possibly imagine not loving them, you could picture and laugh at the awkwardness that would’ve ensued had you said no and the three of you were stuck up here together. 

“Well I don’t think it would’ve been that bad. We’re still best friends so a little awkwardness maybe but-”

“Nat,” Wanda cuts the redhead off, gaining her attention.“ You’re focusing on the wrong things lyubov.”

It’s then that Natasha addresses the beginning of your statement.“ Wait so you’ll go out with us?” 

Smiling, you nod.“ Yes I will. I’ve never done the whole poly thing but, I’m more than willing to try for you.” You turn your smile to Wanda,“ both of you.” 

They look past you to look at each other, bright smiles exchanged between them. Suddenly Wanda lunges towards you, wrapping you up in a big hug and peppering kiss over your face. 

A snort of a laugh leaves you as she kisses you and you hug her back with one arm, your other still occupied with your hand in Natasha’s. 

“Okay okay Maximoff. I love you too.” You say with another soft laugh.

She pulls back, smiling even brighter. Then a finger curls under your chin and your head is gently turned, eyes meeting another pair of gorgeous green eyes. 

“We love you too detka.” 

Ever so slowly she leans in and kisses you softly. You melt into the kiss, a quiet sigh of content at finally finally being able to do this. And when she pulls away, quickly pecking your lips again, you’re pulled into a kiss with Wanda. 

Her lips are a little softer than Natasha’s and she kisses you with a little more restraint.  

A quiet smack parts your lips and you lean back against Natasha.“ I think I could definitely get used to that.” 

Both women chuckle softly, Wanda leaning back against you and Natasha wrapping both arms around you and the brunette. 

Right there, sandwiched between the two women you love as the heat of the campfire warms you, you’re happy. 

* * * * * *

Taglist: @natasha-danvers @owloftheshadows @yumusak-yastik @blackxwidowsxwife @b-5by5 @fayhar @lostandsearching @iliketozoneout @ecruzsalez 

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat #wandanat x reader #reader insert #request #storiesofsvufallbingo

[riasuns]

lily pads

summary: in which armin uses the pads of his fingers to give you the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had. 

tags: vaginal fingering, praising, edging, dacryphilia, armin wears a uni sweater.

word count: 671 

a/n: istg i got like 5 drafts but i got an attention span of a pea. but i promise to write more if u guys want lolz just need to get my life back on track bc u know,, depression. but anywayzzzzz runs away 🏃‍♀️

armin fingering n edging you for an hour straight. big fat hot tears rolling down your pretty cheeks as you babble nonsense, trying to convince him to let you cum. he just chuckles at your weak state.

“what? baby wants to cum?” he sounds mean and condescending. “no baby… not yet, you don’t know what’s good for you, but i do..” he coos so sweetly into your ear which caused you to whimper and buck your hips to reach that sweet spot that makes you melt into the palm of his hand. his words makes your hot cunt squeeze his fingers so good it’s almost heartbreaking when he slips them out.

“tsk tsk” armin says as he looks at his long, pale fingers covered in the creamy substance that you created. poor you, grasping onto the sleeves of his university sweater that he has on. you cling onto him. his once bright blue eyes that looked like the shore of the ocean are now turned into a dark blue like the deepest part of the sea. he grazes over your doe glossy eyes. “no, no baby, you can’t cum yet, it will feel good once you do though, trust me baby, it will feel so good. you’re doing so good for me.” his wet fingers outline your glossy plump lips, slipping his fingers into your hot cavern. you obey and suck the sticky arousal from his fingers, cleaning them off.

you release them with a light pop. “‘atta girl.” he whispers, trailing his wet fingers down your shivering thighs, the small bumps on your skin forming. “…now, i want you to be good and take what i give you”

you nod fervently moaning his sweet name as his slips his fingers once again into your hot cunt, playing with that spongy spot that makes you feel hot. “love you like this. love this cunt. love you” armin moans out quietly, taking a deep breath of your delicious scent, the pads of his fingers hitting that rigid spot faster and faster every time. the poor band kept forming and and stretching, any second now would snap hard.

“‘min!! min! please! i-im gonna cum! please let me cum! cant no more!” big fat tears are rolling down your cheeks from your doe eyes.

“just hold it a lil longer baby. s-shit, you’re so fucking wet” he groans at the sound of your squelching hot pussy as it’s squeezes his fingers harder as a signal and you were indeed about to snap.

“please ‘min, fuck! i wanna cum for you so bad!” you were gripping his uni sweater to your dear life your knuckles were aching, you just wanted to cum real bad! armin has been teasing and edging you for the past hour while watching a film on netflix, the noise from the background swallowing the desperate moans and shaky breaths you let out.

“ok baby, cum. cum for me. be a good girl and cum for me.” he whispers finally and you rip out a loudest moan of the night, slapping your hand over your mouth to mute a few octaves. “i’m cumming! i’m cumming! i’m cumming for your armin! fuck baby!” you cried, your orgasm hitting you like a literal truck as you finally let the band snap and let loose. tear-stained eyes rolling into the back your head, your moth never stopping the repeating of your lovers name, as if it’s the only word you know.

your pussy spasms and clenches as armin uses his thumb to slowly rub your clit to help you come down your hard orgasm. “that’s it… atta girl… you did so good baby.” armin praises as he kisses your temple as you calm down your breathing. eyelashes wet from your tears, you blink a few times before saying,   “thank you ‘min.” still sensitive from the outcome which just makes him smile and give you a gentle kiss of the lips.

“i love you so much baby… now i think your ready for my cock, yeah?”

#omggg what did i just write #runs away #um #armin smut #armin arlet smut #armin arlert #snk armin #snk smut #aot smut #aot armin #please have my children #want him so bad want him to finger me and then fuck me

[chipper-smol]

Hollow Knight Telephone Round Two: Babysitter SL

Prompt: Shade (lord) is in the midst of final exams and they’re more stressed and tired than usual while babysitting. They accidentally fall asleep in the middle of a calm spell and the god babies become worried. The next time Shade comes over, all of the god babies present a gift they all made together!

By @minnesotamidian-blog​

Shade barely noticed their surroundings as they entered the nursery playroom. Plastic clattered and they sighed as Radiance yelled at the top of her lungs. At least she wasn't screaming. Yet. The scene was set: Unn was still in a crib and chewing on a bar, Root was climbing slowly onto a chair. Radiance was knocking over plastic blocks as Grimm cackled away. For once, Wyrm was playing peacefully with a kick toy, batting at it with his tail. Root got onto the chair and squealed, raising her arms. "Big Root now!" The little blue-eyed godling squeaked out.

Shade picked her up, hugged her to their chest before holding her out. "Now you're a flying Root."

She screamed laughter as Shade tiredly walked her around the room before setting her down near some of her favorite toys. They made sure nobody else had claimed the chair and took a seat, bending over to pick up the fussy moth. "Ancient enemy!" Of course she bit their hand.

Shade winced and just ran a hand over her fluff. "Are you hungry for something that isn't void?" They spoke tiredly.

"Oranges!" She yelled out.

The teen sighed as he went to the mini-fridge with snacks and found some miracle of miracles! pre-peeled oranges. Shade pulled them out and put her in a high chair with one at a time so she wouldn't be tempted to throw the extras at them.

Finals were here and they were really taking it out of the gangly god. Why did they have to know stuff about inorganic chemistry? Why did they have to know about history nobody cared about? There were some fun subjects, but the finals seemed to even suck the fun out of those classes, going over notes and studying everything just in case. They'd been pulling long nights and the night before had been an all-night cram session-and they still had to come to work, they couldn't afford not to. They'd underlined all the stuff the teacher had said was important to remember and had written down stuff from the last finals about each teacher's usual tests.

It made narrowing down what to study from impossible to I'm totally toast. They groaned as they set down a calmer Radiance the opposite side of the room from Wyrm. She found toys that interested her, at least. Root wandered over to Wyrm, who was really into knocking at the kick toy and purring. Root settled nearby and burbled as she hugged and gnawed a plushie.

The teen couldn't help it. The kids were calm for once; their head started to tilt forward, eyes heavy. They were exhausted. Shade's eyes closed and their breathing deepened. At first, their toys were too interesting to notice their babysitter's state; but it didn't take long for Grimm to get bored enough to fly over and notice. "...Shade? Shade's eyes are closed." They landed and the four children not in a crib headed for the batlike godling.

"Is Shade dead?" Wyrm sounded worried.

"Don't be stupid, they're having a nap!" Radiance huffed.

Root looked up and swayed before patting Shade's leg. "Grown-ups don't have nap times." She was tearing up.

"Nuh-uh, they're having bad dreams and it's tasty!" Grimm clamored onto their lap.

The others joined, Radiance grabbing Unn to join them on the sleeping teen. Grimm rested between Shade's horns, Unn was on one shoulder, Radiance on the other, with Root and Wyrm curled up together on Shade's lap, Wyrm purring for once.

When Shade woke up, they were surprised by the weight on their body and forced themself to look down and around before moving. "Uh oh, I fell asleep… sheesh, I'm glad this place isn't a fiery disaster." They picked the godlings up. "You're not dead!" Wyrm exclaimed.

Root burst into tears and even Grimm joined in on the crying spat. Shade sighed and spent the rest of the time comforting them until meal time and settled them down. Time to go home for them all!

But the worry didn't leave the heads of the little godlings. "We should make something for Shade. If they're having nightmares, they might be sad." Radiance sighed. "But that doesn't mean I feel bad for my ancient enemy!" "What do we make?" Root twirled around, slowly turning in place until she fell onto pillows in her dizziness.

"Something of clay! I can burn it dry!" Grimm hopped around.

"But there's no clay." Unn spoke slowly, thoughtfully. "But there's crayons and paper."

"Oooh. We can make a pretty picture for Shade!" Wyrm waved his head happily. The group went for papers and each started to draw on the paper. "You're taking up too much paper!" Wyrm whined.
Radiance complained in turn, pointing at the color he was using. "I want that color!"

Wyrm growled and argued back. "I had it first!"

They started rolling around over their drawings, biting and clawing. Grimm gave a solid scream that startled the two. "You ruined Shade's pretty pictures!" He yelled.

The two looked at each other and hung their heads. "...sorry." Radiance muttered.
"-'m sorry." Wyrm looked away from the moth, skulking. "Start again? You can have the crayon, Radiance…"

Radiance took the crayon and they all picked up the last piece of paper. "I think this is better." Root spoke cheerfully.

It was three days later, once Shade had a solid night's sleep and finals completed that they'd returned to work. A large construction sheet of paper in grey covered in scribbles and rough names and messages was waiting for them.

Feel better soon Shade

Love you

Best babysitter

Tastiest nightmare!

Not the worst anciant ancient enemy.Shade could only feel warmth and laugh, hugging the drawing to themself. There were some days the job felt like the best thing in the world.  ------------------------------- By @tomatotimes

-------------------------------

By @loud-whistling-yes

"No."

The kids protested louder. Shade lifted the TV remote higher up, now above their head.

"Screentime's over, I said no."

Wyrm attempted to crawl up their leg in what was a rather pathetic attempt at stealing the remote, but was promptly shaken off. Grimm tried next, flying overhead to snatch the controller. Shade ducked and grabbed him by the tail before he could send himself flying straight towards the ceiling fan for the third time that day.

"Find something else to do," Shade said as they stuffed the remote deep into their pocket, much to everyone else's dismay. "Look, as much as I'd love to shut you guys up for the whole day, you've all been staring at the TV for hours now and I don't want to get in trouble with your parents."

Louder complaints.

"No, no, no. I am not cracking this time." Shade announced as they pulled Radi, who was hissing like an angry cat, off their jeans and pulled their phone out. "You guys got me last week, never again. No more TV for you, we're doing something else before I lose my money for tonight. Google almighty, what is your suggestion."

activities to do with children

fun activities to do with children

activities to do with toddlers

what can I do with kids that isn't a major headache to deal with goddamnit

Go to the park? Shade took about half a second to consider the thought before wondering why they even thought it was possible anyways. Five kids from the deepest depths of hell, outdoors? No. No park.

Finger painting? A pain to clean up, but better than outdoors. Then they looked up from their phone and considered the idea with greater thought. Grimm's wings, Radi's legs, Unn and Wyrm's… er…. Body?.... Nevermind.

Play pretend? …. If they hear the name Hallownest one more time they might just go insane.

Hide and seek? No. No no no no no. No more hide and seek. Shade was utterly sick of hide and seek. If they had to spend another second stuffed inside the closet or trying to get Radi off the roof they'll probably quit the job right there and then.

Baking?

… That might work. Sure, cleaning up is gonna be absolute hell but it's the only thing Google suggested that they haven't tried yet without horrible results.

Shade stuffed their phone back into their pocket and made a getaway to the kitchen, everyone else following, probably still trying to get the remote back. Butter, eggs, flour, sugar, oh, even some chocolate chips…

"Well then," They declared, pulling every ingredient out of the cabinet and fridge. "We're making cookies! And no, no one is allowed to touch the oven when it's hot. If you guys behave we'll have cookies in like, an hour or something like that."

The kids watched in confusion as Shade ran around the kitchen, pulling out bowls and spoons and a bunch of other utensils while typing furiously on their phone.

Cookies recipe

Cookies recipe easy

Cookies recipe for beginners

Cookies recipe for kids

"What do you guys think about chocolate chip cookies?"

Multiple chitters of approval. "Chocolate chip cookies it is then."

Step one: sieve the flour. Oh wyrm, first step and it's already gonna go to shit.

"Okay, you guys can watch this but for the love of the holy wyrm, do not touch it." Shade measured the correct amount of flour before scooping Wrym and Unn off the floor onto the table so they could see while Radi pulled herself onto the chair. The Lady had already clinged herself onto their sweater and Grimm was doing just fine flying nearby.

“You guys get one chocolate chip each if you guys behave and don’t get flour everywhere.” Shade added. “Now, Lady, hold still and don’t move, I gotta keep my hands steady for this…”

************

"Okay, chocolate chip time." Shade popped open the jar of chocolate as the kids cheered. "Actually, we’re not supposed to be eating this plain, cause it's going into the cookies. But no one actually does that so you guys get five chips each for not setting the kitchen on fire so far."

"The recipe says a cup of chocolate chips but we all know that's a lie." They added while shoving their phone back in their pocket and grabbing a handful of chips before mixing the batter together. "I'm probably not someone you should take life lessons from, but here's one thing I can guarantee you should take to heart: never follow the recipe when it comes to chocolate chips, you count that with your soul."

Final step: oven time. The oven was preheated earlier, and the only thing left was to get the cookies into the tray and into the oven. "Now, who wants to make heart-shaped cookies?"

****************

Three deformed stars, five mutated trees, two malformed cats, several irregular hearts, a couple handfuls of chocolate eaten straight from the jar, and one (1) perfectly round cookie later, the cookies were on the tray, in the oven, and in a surprising turn of events, no one burned themselves… yet. Shade grabbed everyone and made sure no one was in a five-meter radius within the oven before picking up all the dirty bowls and utensils. “Cookies will have to sit in there for about 15 minutes, we’ll be cleaning up in the meantime.”

“Don’t look at me like that, and no whining, if you want cookies you gotta deal with the mess afterwards. That's the payoff, unless you're a wizard who has a passion for baking. Then that's fair, I guess." They dumped all the used utensils they could find and turned on the sink. The sief, three bowls, tablespoons and teaspoons.. Oh wait.

"Radi, the big wooden spoon, please?" Shade called, sponge in their hand and bowls being thoroughly rinsed.

Radi, of course, was not willing to help, because she's basically a feral house cat that just so happened to grow more legs than the average feline. Shade sighed and moved on to finding the next helper they could find.

"Grimm, I know you're touching the oven, stop it. I'm pretty sure you're immune to fire but not everyone else and you're setting a bad example for them. Get me the spoon please."

“Lady, here’s a cloth, help me dry the bowls up. Wyrm, … i have no idea how you can help, no limbs and all but uh, could you go get Unn? I have no idea where she went. Thanks.” The last sentence was to Grimm, who flew over with the mixing spoon and dropped it into the sink while Wyrm scurried away to find Unn, wherever she’s napping at.

"Radi? Radi, I know you're right behind me, stop pretending that you can't hear me. Lady has an extra cloth with her, you're on table wiping duty."

*********

“See? That wasn't so bad,” Shade sent the last of the bowls back into the cupboards and closed it shut. “And the cookies are pretty much done.”

“Also, no. You may not eat the cookies the moment I pull them out of the oven. These rules also apply to Grimm because it's unfair to everyone else.. Don’t look at me like that Grimm, I know you’ll eat them all before they cool and leave us nothing.”

The cookies smelt delicious, and were left on the dining table to cool. “Now that it's cooling down, it's naptime.”

A chorus of groans and wailing.

“It’ll be ready when you guys get up. Up up up, sleep time.”

**********

If you’ve been anywhere near toddlers before, you’d know that getting them to nap in their bedrooms is a near-impossible situation. And Shade was not a person who deals with near-impossible situations well. So following the months old custom, Shade turned on the tv, remote miraculously not pickpocketed, collapsed onto the couch, and waited for everyone piling on them to fall asleep before moving them into their bedroom and pretending they managed to wrangle them all into bed.

And it all goes to plan, the Lady and Wyrm were sound asleep on their lap, Radi and Unn were dozing off on their shoulders, and they're pretty sure the snoring from the top of their head was coming from Grmm. Now, step 2: get everyone off them and onto the beds.

… Or maybe later. It's been a long day, and the couch is pretty comfy. Yeah, just five more minutes, nothing wrong with that…

And if the parents came home to see a cleaner-than-expected kitchen, a tray of chocolate chip cookies, and five kids snoring on top of their babysitter, also sound asleep, then that’s nobody’s business.

And if the originally completely full jar of chocolate chips was pretty much empty, then that’s no one’s business as well.

-------------------------------

By @astronomicartz​

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By @hollow-kin​

Shade lord wanted to take a nap. They are sooo tired, but they are babysitting 5 baby gods for 5$/H. Grimm is a brat, Radiance his sister is also a brat. Unn was ether eating or seeping, same with grub1. Lady was, well sweet and cuddly. they needed to find a distraction for the kids, what would work?

Would tv work, would cartoons work? They had dinner already. Tv had to work or grub and radiance would destroy the house. They needed to take a nap. Now what to watch was a different question, they would have to ask the kids. “so, what do guys want to watch? “Movie!” well they were all in agreement, what was good. “What kind of movie do you guys want to watch?” “Fire!” “dath” “animal” “tree” “ok. No, we are NOT watching fire.” “awww” “i do not know what dath means so no. So nature show it is then.” they go over to the tv and turn it on, then select the world around us. Lady was quick to fall asleep, on their lap. Shade lord slowly fell asleep, and grub nested between grub and shade lord. Grimm climed up to shade lord's head. 

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By @hawaiianbabidoll

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By @neoliberalsatan

A gentle darkness surrounded the shade lord. He finally felt at ease. "finally", he thought, "rest." it didn't take long after that before the darkness started to take shape and a whole new world created out of shadows sheathed him.

But the happiness of the shadows didn't last long. A new and a new sound drowned out their world and all the animals and plants took to hiding back in his head. The shade lord felt the distressed creations stir inside his mind and woke up to the sound of his phone ringing. He rubbed his lowest eyes and accepted the call

"Hello, with shade lord. How can i help you?" "Oh sorry dear, i know it's terribly late but we got an unexpected call and need to leave. Since you've babysat Unn multiple times we assumed she would like to stay with you. Is it okay for you? Can we bring her to your place?" The shade lord thought for a moment and decided he could use the money. "Yea it's fine, she's always such a pleasure to babysit." The voice on the other side sounded relieved. "Thank you. You're a life saver. We will make sure you're compensated accordingly."

Feeling a bit more awake after the phone call he started to prepare for having baby Unn over. After a while her parents arrived and after some greetings he was home alone with the baby. He walked with her in his arms towards the living room and placed her gently inside the crib. She opened her eyes for a moment after losing the feeling of someone holding her, but then closed them again and fell back asleep.

The shade lord decided he couldn't sleep anymore and made some popcorn and decided to put on a movie. It didn't even take 20 minutes before he got called again.

"Hello, with shade lord. How can i help you?" "Oh yes finally someone who answers. Sorry but you're our last hope. We were going somewhere tonight but our babysitter called off. Do you think you could babysit our lovely Radiance? She's very good behaved and won't cause you trouble." "yea, no problem. You'll just need to bring her to my place if it's no trouble"

Not even 5 minutes later the parents showed up and dropped of their larva. Shade lord looked at it a bit confused but didn't get the time to say anything because the parents left as soon as they handed her over. He closed his front door and gave the larva a good look. She was white and had a fluffy appearance. She had 5 pairs of legs and yellow-orange eyes. She started to writhe a little bit and shade lord made sure to hurry to the living room. He took a pillow and placed it on the couch and softly laid her on it. She seemed at ease and rested on the pillow all stretched out

Shade lord continued his movie, which was finally starting to get interesting, but as usual the commercial break hit. He was in the kitchen making more popcorn when he got another call.

"Hello, with shade lord. How can i help you?" "Hello, is this the babysitter?" "Yes, that's the one you're speaking with." "Great, a family member had an accident and i need to be there for them so do you think you could babysit for me?" "Yep, totally." "Thank you, can we bring him to you?" "Oh yea, no problem."

A few minutes later his doorbell rang and he hurried towards it. The father carried his toddler in what could only be described as wing-esque appendages. The shade lord extended his arms for the man to put his toddler in and felt a gentle brush of the leathery membrane. He shivered lightly before feeling a sudden warmth light up in his face, like someone has started a fire. When he looked back up the man was gone and he closed the door. The creature he was holding in his arms was unlike anything he had ever seen. 2 horns sprouted from its black head. The face was as bleak as white linen on a summer day. It seems she likes make-up because she had already 2 black lines running from her cheeks towards her eyes, eventually fading into the darkness of her head. She had the same membranes as her father and no limbs besides it.

He wasn’t even in the living room before he heard his front door being was under siege. He put the weird creature down and opened the front door. Immediately he was assaulted by Hollow, a very energetic child. He was wearing a green cloak today and it finally seemed he was starting to grow bigger than a hand. His horns has also branched into the inside. Immediately after Hollow jumped on his he could hear Pale complain about his unprofessional work attitude. Although he was bigger than most it seems he wouldn’t grow much anymore. His tiny stature didn’t discourage him from being bossy. Finally White entered. By far the biggest of the bunch, she was also the most introverted. Her roots slid elegantly over towards him and even managed to stop Pale from talking for a moment.

He took them inside the living room only to find that somehow the larva and the winged creature had somehow gotten into a fight and now both were in hiding in opposite sides of the room. Normally he wouldn’t make such a big deal out of this if somehow his couch wasn’t full of tiny needles and a chair was on fire. He rushed to the tap to fill a bowl of water to extinguish the little fire. With the attention being diverted Hollow managed to slip from the watch of Pale and could now be found in the corner Radiance was hiding. The larva figured out quickly he liked to play games and had soon enough set up a plan to make him betray Pale.

In the meantime White had climbed the couch and started pulling out the needles while Shade lord had figured out what the membrane between the appendages from the weird creature were for. Namely, for flight. And now she was attacking his horns and he couldn’t reach her. As if her flying was not good enough alone, whenever he raised his arms she would back off and launch a little fireball  All this commotion woke up baby Unn who slowly started to slither away from her crib to find food.

The shade lord finally had enough of the little fire hazard and rushed towards the pantry to get a kettle. Once he had found it he peeked around the corner only to find that fire hazard eating his popcorn! All caution was thrown aside and he grabbed her by the guts and put her inside the kettle. She tried to heat it but he added some water to it. While it evaporated quickly it was apparently enough to bring over the message. Now he could focus his attention back on the larva again, only she could’ve produced those needles, which White was making great progress with removing them as a quick glance told him.

Now back to Pale and Radiance who were apparently having a fight (Darkness, that larva really has a talent to provoke others). They were arguing near the coffee table, because apparently they wanted a fight so bad they just ran to each other and met in the middle. Hollow was climbing one of the legs of the table, but wasn’t noticed by the shade lord because he was too occupied with the other 2. He tried to separate the arguing pair but they were at each other’s throats. They even had summoned a needle and a tiny dagger to fight each other. The shade lord obviously didn’t count on this tiny factor and had soon enough one in each hand. He screamed, trying not to curse, barely not failing miserably, and Pale managed to escape. In any other situation this wouldn’t pose a problem, but Hollow, after eating some popcorn, found himself at the right edge of the coffee table and pulled out his tiny wooden sword he got from Pale. The larva, Darkness curse her, used this to her advantage and made the sign to Hollow to betray Pale. The act of betraying Pale involved jumping off of the coffee table and hitting Pale as hard on the head as possible. Naturally, all of this went according to plan and even brought some extra spectacle. After Hollow had hit Pale on the head he wasn’t prepared for the recoil of the wood and ended up hitting himself in the face.

All of this lead to 3 crying children (1 of them from laughing, the others from pain) and 1 very angry young adult. He put the larva on the couch and took care of the others while White held a close eye on the damned 10 legged thing. After Pale and Hollow weren’t crying anymore he took the little fire hazard out of the kettle and continued his movie, which was getting to an end.

After the film ended a documentary started and had all the kids hooked. He went to check on Unn only to find an empty crib. He could however see a slimy trail lead up his wall and onto the ceiling. It went through the door into the pantry where he kept his food and toys for the toddlers. He looked up on the ceiling only to find a sleepy Unn with a letter block in her mouth. Suddenly Unn started to make a very weird noise and fell from the ceiling onto his face. He swiped her off of his face onto his shoulder and then washed it.

He returned back to the tv to watch the documentary that was still playing and plopped down on the couch. Not long after he was asleep with White on his left shoulder, Unn on his right shoulder, the little fire hazard on the same arm and Pale curled up in his lap. Radiance and hollow were still awake but occupied with the documentary instead of causing trouble. After the documentary ended they crawled up against his sides and fell asleep.

-------------------------------

By @constantlost 

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By @bugbeee

Exhaustion seeped into Shadelord’s body, limbs weighed down by a heaviness they hadn’t experienced in a while. The smatter of godlings that lay around them on the couch, or on them in Radi’s case, was enough to convince them that they had died and that this was the Eternal Void that was created to punish them for cheating on that test in the 8th grade. In their defence, it had been on rock sedimentation.

Wyrm continued his grumbling from the corner of the couch, still infuriated by the attack on his person only moments before. Root, the aggressor, looked remarkably pleased with herself. Shade knew they should probably punish her further in some way but... well, to be perfectly honest, they simply were not paid enough to do so.

They really should have charged more. Fifteen dollars at least per tiny demon they had to look after rather than the whole bunch. Fifteen dollars was not enough to encourage discipline. It was enough for them to make sure none of the godlings killed the other. And they had thought they had come up with an ingenious plan to secure some peace and quiet.

After much wrangling, they had finally managed to set up two separate playpens, each far enough away that the godlings wouldn’t start screaming if one of them saw their rival. Wyrm and Root in one pen, Grimm, Radi and Unn in another. It was a gamble, but one that thankfully seemed to have paid off. Radi was still exhausted from the tussle she had just had with Wyrm, and Grimm seemed content to chew off the heads of the plastic Garbies they had found. Unn continued to watch, and occasionally helped Grimm execute a Garbie in a spectacular manner. It was both reassuring, and beyond disturbing. Root and Wyrm meanwhile were cheerfully ignoring each other as they both played with their own toys.

It should have been foolproof.

Unfortunately for Shade however, they were dealing with infants instead of fools.

For some damned reason, Root had decided that now was the perfect time to act up, instead of being the sweet little darling she had been so far. Her target, much to their dismay, had been Wyrm. In all fairness, the godling had probably deserved it in some way; most likely he had tried to worm too close in order to steal some of the grubpaste and mushroom sticks Shade had left out as a snack. Root had seen this theft as a cardinal sin, and had subsequently decided that Wyrm deserved nothing less than absolute annihilation.

The momentary doze Shade had managed to fall into was abruptly interrupted by loud shrieking and wailing, resulting in them vaulting over the couch to hurriedly find out which one of the godlings was being tortured.

The scene that greeted them was... well, it wasn’t any less ridiculous than some of the other stuff the little goblins had pulled before.

Using her flexible tendrils, Root had seen fit to wrap them around Wyrm, and aggressively dunk him into the bowl of grubpaste he had attempted to steal from. His shrieks and hisses had woken up Radi and drawn the attention of the other children, who were now cheering on Root’s attack on Wyrm’s person.

“Enough,” Shade declared, shooting a glare behind them, “Root, let him go.” Root looked up innocently.

No, she seemed to say with her eyes, justice must prevail.

“Justice won’t get me my fifteen dollars,” they hissed out in return, and they could have sworn that Root shrugged, turning away from them to dunk Wyrm into the bowl yet again.

“No!” they cried out, quickly whipping down to grab the poor child before he could be further humiliated. After finally being saved from his vicious tormentor, Wyrm decided it was time to go into hysterics, lashing out with a sharp tail to fully show his displeasure. Root simply watched impassively as the rest of the children cheered.

Shade wondered if fifteen dollars was even worth it at this point.

“Alright, alright, enough! Root, you go in time out. We do not waterboard our fellow godlings in grubpaste. Wyrm, calm down, it’s just grubpaste- Settle down!” they yelped out, flinching as something heavy settled onto their head. The soft fluff revealed that Radi had decided to fly out of her pen and taunt Wyrm in person. Shade wanted to sob with frustration.

The door cracked open, and Ghost peered in, head tilted curiously.

Need help? they signed, and Shade wanted to collapse in relief.

“Please,” they begged, and their sibling nodded grimly, even as amusement danced in their eyes. Shucking off their school backpack, they quickly headed over to the other pen and signed to them, bobbing their head up and down in a soothing motion. Grimm and Unn were entranced. Radi less so. She remained seated on their head, but at least seemed to have finally stopped provoking Wyrm.

“I’m just going to clean him up,” Shade explained uselessly, watching as Ghost simply nodded and waved them off. 

With a tired gait, Shade wandered into the kitchen and turned on the tap, listening as Wyrm’s panicked yelps grew louder at the realisation of what was going to happen next. Radi snickered softly, before leaping off and gliding back into the living room.

Bath time, according to the godlings, was a fate worse than death, and something to be avoided at all cost.

Unfortunately for both Wyrm and Shade, it was a necessary evil. Wyrm disagreed. Loudly. And with claws.

He howled furiously as Shade slowly lowered him into the warm water, softly scrubbing at the now-dried grubpaste sticking to his skin. Despite his attempts, Wyrm failed to prevent them from continuing his bath. He turned to pathetic pleading instead, making soft mewling sounds as though he was nothing more than a poor innocent child who had done nothing wrong, ever.

Shade, who remembered the little bastard knocking a glass ornament onto their head, was not convinced. Ultimately there was no escape, and Wyrm reluctantly gave in to the soft scrubbing, though he made sure his rumbling complaints were known.

“Yes, yes,” Shade said quietly, “I truly am the worst. Close your eyes so I can rinse you.”

Wyrm, in a dumb act of defiance, did not close his eyes. The hysterics started again, and Shade contemplated drowning themself in the half-filled sink. Fifteen dollars, they repeated. Fifteen dollars.

Grabbing a tea towel, they quickly dried the godling off, carefully teasing out water droplets from soft scales. He child gnawed on their fingers in revenge. “I’m done,” they announced, wandering back into the living room with a now clean, and furious, Wyrm.

Ghost looked up from their position on the floor, back leaning against the couch as they played with Grimm. Radi immediately perked up at the sound of Shade’s voice, and quickly flew over, making herself at home on top of their head. Unn seemed to have decided to undertake the momentous task of scaling up the back of the couch, leaving a thick trail of slime behind. Root, still stuck in her pen as punishment, let out a wail, demanding to be let out.

Shade was all out of energy to fight back or deal with a tantrum.

“Alright, alright, out you go,” they muttered, depositing Wyrm on the couch before reaching down to lift out the petulant child from her terrible prison. She clung to them desperately until they finally collapsed on the sofa. She quickly wriggled out of their hold and instead plonked down beside them. Wyrm had hissed at the sight of her, and slunk to the other side of the couch to sulk.

Grimm let out a raspy cackle at the sight, before diving down to nip at Ghost’s fingers.

Unn finally made her way to the top of the couch and waved her eyestalks victoriously. All Shade could do was give her a tired pat.

They sank into the couch, the exhaustion creeping back in. It should have been foolproof.

Fifteen dollars.

-------------------------------

By @arandoskeleartist​

#telephoneknight #hollowknight #hollow knight #BabysitterSL #shade lord #pale king #radiance #nightmare king grimm #unn #white lady

[loeyparker]

hurt her to save her - d.m

pairing: draco x fem!reader

word count: 7k 

warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of death and torture

plot: getting closer to Draco during sixth year has consequences. Draco realizes that when he’s forced to hurt you in order to keep you safe from Voldemort

a/n: my HP obsession is back so I’ve returned to writing fics but i might have went overboard with this one lmao . it wasn’t requested, but if someone wants part 2 i’m gonna do it <3

Draco Malfoy had a very good memory. Besides being cunning and arrogant, he was also incredibly smart – which is precisely why he was second best in most classes. Behind the cold, uncaring façade the youngest Malfoy put out into the world however, stood a boy who remembered things he probably should have forgotten.

Lately, Draco Malfoy couldn’t remember the last time he felt anything but fear. He attempted to mask the feeling either with anger, determination or indifference but the true, raw feeling of fear was behind it all, much like a dementor guarding all his other emotions. The past summer planted dread and terror deep into his mind and the ink on his skin felt like it was seeping through his skin, entering his veins and poisoning his heart.

By the time he arrived back at Hogwarts for his sixth year, he felt drained. With the weight of the world on his shoulders, the young boy attempted to pretend to be a normal student, despite the countless sleepless nights and stray tears that sometimes escaped through small cracks in the emotional wall he’d built around him over the years. The tears only saw the light of day in the darkness of the Room of Requirement, where he found himself surrounded by old artifacts and silence.  

“Draco, Severus has been telling me you seem distracted.” The soft, yet scared tone of Draco’s mother rang throughout the empty, rotting room in the Shrieking Shack. Broken windows allowed for the wind to invade the abandoned building violently and loudly, and to dance around the three figures standing in the dark. It caused a shiver to run up Draco’s spine, but he couldn’t tell if the reaction came from the cold or from Narcissa and Severus’s stares aimed at him.

Draco felt so small under their gaze.

“That’s true, I have been.” Draco admitted, looking forward. He focused on a spider trapping a moth in its web. “With school.” The moth fought, attempted to flap its wings but the web was too sticky. “I have to keep up my grades. Them dropping suddenly would be suspicious.” Draco’s voice didn’t waver, despite his heart beating at a much more rapid pace than normally.

“Lie.” Severus Snape spoke simply. The professor was tasked with taking care of the Slytherin boy, but he wasn’t about to listen to his childish lies while the man knew what he had been seeing in the past months around Hogwarts.

Draco didn’t move.

Narcissa sighed and got closer to her son. She placed her palms on Draco’s pale cheeks and she felt them being hollower than she remembered. Draco still didn’t look at her. The spider was covering the dying moth in his web, fully suffocating the creature.

“My boy, the dead don’t need lovers.” Narcissa’s voice was quiet, regretful even. Her heart ached for the boy who was so quickly deprived of a childhood.

“You cannot forget about the assignment because of a girl.” Snape spoke up, his voice monotonous.

“I haven’t forgotten.” Draco spat back and took a step away from his mother, whose hands dropped. He didn’t feel the lack of her palms on his cheeks, as they left no warmth Draco could feel. “And there’s no girl.”

“Do not lie to us, boy. I have seen you with the Ravenclaw girl, I am not blind.” Snape saw the glances between Draco and you in the Great Hall, he saw the way Draco fixed his gaze on you during DADA. He also caught you walking into the Room of Requirement not long after Draco the previous night. On top of that, Minerva had mentioned how Draco’s recent assignments closely mirrored yours. You had a certain style noticeable in your homework answers, and that style began to be seen in Draco’s own homework which lead everyone to speculate the two students may be closer than everyone thinks.

Before Draco could deny, Narcissa spoke “Under other circumstances, I’d be delighted to hear about a girl in your life.” Her tone was soft, yet it held an edge and sternness to it. “But you have a mission, Draco. Do I need to remind you of the consequences to befall our family if you don’t succeed?”

“No.” Draco spat. He already knew the consequences – loud and clear. They had been drilled into his mind, heart and soul the entire summer. If he couldn’t kill Dumbledore, Voldemort would kill Draco’s entire family instead.

“The girl is another weakness. Another person to add to the death list, Draco.” His mother pleaded. “You know he will kill her if he finds out.”

“I know.”

Draco could feel all the warmth in his body melt away and even his bones felt cold and heavy.

“You can still save her.” Snape spoke. “Focus on you mission, hurt her. Make her believe you don’t love her.”

Draco glanced at the spider one last time, and the moth laid still in the webs of the predator. The wind made the web sway, but only slightly. It was too sturdy to be blown away by any forces.

“Hurt her to save her.” Narcissa’s voice echoed through Draco’s mind all the way back to the castle. The Room of Requirement didn’t appear that night, and so the boy went to bed instead. He entered an empty Slytherin common room and even though the fire was burning, Draco couldn’t feel its warmth. Not even as he knelt in front of the flames, attempting to warm his freezing hands. His movements were mechanic. As he laid in bed that night, he couldn’t remember how exactly he got back into the dorm from the Shack.

However, he remembered events that took place years ago perfectly.

He especially remembered the night of the Yule Ball, two years prior. He can pinpoint the exact moment he spotted you in the crowd of well-dressed students. It was, in his mind, the first time he really, truly saw you. He remembered the small -but noticeable skip of his heart that happened as soon as his eyes landed on your figure. You were smiling, but sitting at the wrong table –  which confused him for a moment. You were sat at the Gryffindor table, right next to the Weasley twins who were making you laugh. A Ravenclaw boy whose name Draco didn’t know was behind you, resting his hands on your shoulders thus signaling that he was your date that night through possessive body language. You didn’t acknowledge his presence much, though.

Pansy, Draco’s date, made comments about your dress each time you stood up to dance. The long dark blue satin dress gently touched the ground with each step you took, the slit in its side slightly exposed your leg with each movement. There was a smile on your face the whole night.

Draco thought you looked so beautiful.

He thought you looked beautiful even when your glance danced towards Ron Weasley until the end of the ball.

Draco also remembered the night Pansy dragged you into Umbridge’s office a year later. She held your arms behind your back forcefully while you struggled to get out of her grasp. Your wand was in her possession and you looked angry. A great juxtaposition to how you looked on the night of the Yule Ball. He remembered thinking how much sense it made for you to be tangled in Harry Potter’s mess because that’s what Potter did. He had everyone on his side, all odds in his favor while Draco was being dealt bad cards at every turn.  

You fought and tried to get away from Pansy. Your hair was messy, and your oversized blue sweater was getting untucked from your jeans with each forceful move you made. A frown painted your soft features, your eyes seemed darker than usual. Draco caught a glimpse of the scars on your wrist which he immediately knew came from Umbridge’s detention sessions, and he felt a flicker of rage rise into his stomach. The feeling directly contradicted the satisfaction he had been feeling at the sight of Potter getting his plans spoiled right in front of him.

“Parkinson, lay it off.” Draco found himself spitting when he realized the pressure on your wrist was painful. He spoke before he realized what he was doing, and so he found the confused gazes of Ginny and Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and you – all fixed on him. Pansy obeyed Draco with discomfort.

You looked at him quizzingly, not really understanding why he was suddenly…helping you? He met your gaze just for a second before a heavy glare returned in his eyes and he turned away, focusing entirely on Harry and Umbridge.

It was minutes later when he watched your figure getting smaller as you ran away from Umbridge’s office, escaping with your friends. Draco and his friends were left behind and unable to follow as they each struggled with curses thrown at them in the escape. You were all long gone by the time the group of Slytherins came to, and Draco remembered that he found himself wishing he had people running into the line of fire for him like Harry did – he wished you would’ve glanced back at him in your escape and then weeks later when he was told about the events of that night, he found himself hoping his father didn’t hurt you in the Ministry attack.

Those thoughts and memories didn’t stay with him for long that summer, though. Draco couldn’t say that you crossed his mind after he received the Mark.

Until that night.

It was late and he was in the Room of Requirement, still fiddling with the cabinet. It was the fourth consecutive night spent in there after finding the damn thing, and he wasn’t anywhere close to fixing it. Frustrated, he punched and kicked the wood so hard that his knuckles sent sharp waves of pain through his arm. It was because of the noise he was making, the kicks and grunts that he didn’t hear the Room’s doors open and close.

You had previously been in the Gryffindor common room, attending one of their parties. There weren’t lots of Ravenclaws there – hell, it was only you, Stiles, Padma, Anthony and Michael. And it was all going well. You were sat on a bean bag chair with Stiles in-between your legs, surrounded by your Gryffindor friends: Ron, Harry, Hermione, Neville and Ginny, with Dean and Seamus on their way to you all with butterbeers in hand. The atmosphere was fun and light – a welcomed escape from the reality surrounding you, but you all decided to enjoy the moment and pretend the world outside the common room didn’t exist for the night. So you sat close to the fire and you didn’t know if the hot flames were warming you up or if it was the fact that Ron was focusing an unusual amount of attention on you.

You’ve had a crush on the Weasley boy since third year, and no matter what you did, you couldn’t stop your heart from beating faster each time he smiled at you.

You were having a great time.

“And if I become an Animagus to help Scott, then what?” Stiles spoke. Harry shook his head. You puffed. “What? We’d be the new generation of the Marauders; someone has to keep the legacy alive.” He continued, determined.

“Lupin would kill you, mate.” Ron laughed.

“You know animagi don’t pick their animal though, right?” You questioned. Stiles looked up at you and beamed.

“I know. But it’s like, vibe related so I think I’m safe. I’d absolutely be a dog, or a wolf.”

You glanced worryingly at Harry, but the boy simply burst out laughing and denied jokingly. Everyone else hearing the conversation laughed as well.

“Stiles, if it’s vibe related then you’d be a weasel.” You spoke, prompting laughs from everyone. Ron high fived you for the joke and you smiled wider than you thought possible.

The good mood didn’t last long, though. Only moments later Lavender Brown joined the group and comfortably sat herself in Ron’s lap. You watched him give her a quick kiss and wrap his arms around her. “What are we talking about?” She asked and it was as if your ears got covered. The sound faded, your smile dropped, your shoulders slumped. Ron would never like you back, you had to accept that. It was pathetic how you longed for the boy for so long.

So, you excused yourself and left the common room entirely to take a walk. You didn’t expect to end up outside the Room of Requirement, and you didn’t even feel like going inside. But the hall was dark and cold and you began hearing footsteps and the flickering light of Filch’s lantern slowly began illuminating the stone walls and with a haste movement, you went into the Room before Filch could walk around the corner and catch you.

You found yourself in a Room much different from the training grounds you had known while being part of the D.A. Tall piles of clutter seemed to reach the ceiling and despite the room being extremely vast, it felt tiny and crowded because of all the objects tossed and piled everywhere in sight. You walked on a path formed through columns made out of old boxes and books, all piled amongst stacked chairs, empty owl cages and rusty potions equipment. Loud bangs followed by grunts caused you to stop in your tracks and draw out your wand. The room in itself seemed unpredictable, and so you already had about six defensive spells ready to go in your mind and on the tip of your tongue.

You caught a glimpse of platinum blond hair before anything else. It looked messy – very different from the way Draco usually wore it: slick and perfect. Now, it gave you the feeling that he’d been vigorously running his fingers through it, causing it to become tousled. He was only in a white shirt – the robe, vest and tie laid disregarded on a near-by couch.

Lowering your wand, you gently knocked on a table to get his attention.

He turned around in a panic. His hand reached for his wand but stopped midair when he saw you. “What are you doing here?” Draco spat with no hesitation. His heart skipped a beat again, like it did on the night of the Yule Ball.

“I could ask you the same thing.” You responded, glancing at the cabinet in front of him. At the time, you didn’t think anything of it.

“None of your business.”

“I don’t care anyway.” You glared. “This room appeared to me like it did for you and since I think I need it, I’m not leaving.” With your arms crossed, you leaned against a random tossed out piece of furniture.

“Isn’t there a Gryffindor party you should be at?” Draco’s gaze remained cold and the scowl on his face didn’t falter.

“You know about that?”

“Don’t sound so surprised, I know everything that goes on around here.” He broke eye contact by focusing on folding up his sleeves. When his hand began working on his left forearm, he stopped abruptly, remembering. He went stiff at the realization, which you noticed. Before you could speak however, he looked back at you with a smirk, “Was Lavender Brown there so you ran away?” It was as if he didn’t look struck by lightning just two seconds before.

However, his words made you forget his strange behavior. “The hell? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, come on, (Y/L/N). Everyone knows you have the hots for Weasley. Least you can do is own up to it.” He teased with a mixture of annoyance and amusement present on his face.

“Piss off, Malfoy.” Walking up to the old couch Draco’s uniform laid on top of, you sat down and watched as the dust flew out of its cushion. Draco groaned. “I’m just gonna nap here until I’m sure Filch left and isn’t near the Ravenclaw tower.”

Draco mumbled some things you didn’t bother to understand, and then silence befell both of you. He didn’t really bother to fight you to leave even though, in retrospect, he should have had. Maybe if you didn’t stay with him that night, he wouldn’t be meeting you in the Room months later with tears burning his eyes. But, to be fair, he couldn’t have known that night. That night, he just rolled his eyes at you breaking the silence ten minutes later, when he thought you were asleep.

“What are you even doing there?”

“I told you, none of your business.” He spat.

“Is that the vanishing cabinet Peeves broke a few years ago?”

Draco turned around. It was his turn to be surprised by your knowledge. “How do you know about that?” He couldn’t help but let his eyes roam over your figure as you sat cross-legged on the old couch he napped on countless times before. You wore casual clothes – which he always thought looked great on you, and your hair laid straight over your shoulders. The few candles he had lit around softly luminated your face with warm tones.

You smiled proudly at his question.

“Fred and George shoved Montague in it last year” you laughed “it was quite funny.”

Draco remembered the incident. He was, after all, the one who found Montague stuck in a bathroom after the encounter with the twins.

“You’re trying to fix it, aren’t you?” Draco watched you jump up from the couch and walk next to him to examine the cabinet. He suddenly felt on edge, exposed. The Ravenclaw in you was jumping to solve a problem, while the Slytherin in him was about to explode. “Have you tried a mending charm?”

“Of course, I tried a mending charm.” Draco answered with annoyance in his voice. You rolled your eyes. “It doesn’t work.”

“Well, then- “

“I don’t need nor want your help, (Y/L/N).” He glared down at you. “I can handle it myself.”

“Asshole.” You mumbled before taking a few steps back from Draco. He didn’t turn to you. Instead, he focused on his task even though his mind wasn’t on it anymore. He focused on your footsteps as you began to walk away without another word and before he could overthink, he spoke up softly. “But you can stay, if you want.”

You didn’t stop walking as you answered him. “I don’t.”

Draco then heard you utter “Lumos”, heard your footsteps getting quitter and quieter, then the heavy doors being pulled open. After they closed, he found himself surrounded by silence once again. Not dwelling on it, he pushed the thought of you away and resumed his work. Nothing was more important than his assignment.

Things slowly started to shift after that night.

The next day in Transfiguration as he was zoning out, a paper butterfly landed on his desk. He glanced around the room but saw nobody giving any sign of sending him the note. However, after he opened it and read its contents, his eyes immediately found you. On the paper was a list of incantations that would be useful in repairing things, and he knew you had sent it even though you looked focused on the textbook in front of you. It looked as if you were purposefully trying to ignore him, and Draco allowed the ghost of a smirk to form at the corners of his lips.

Two nights later, Draco walked into the Room of Requirement and you were already there. A few more candles than usual were lit as you sat on the (now clean looking) couch, reading a heavy, dense book. “Have they worked?” you asked without looking up from your book.

Draco sighed, loosening his tie. “No.”

And as time passed, you and Draco began spending more and more time together. Initially, you tried to help him fix the cabinet. It gave you a distraction from Ron and Lavender. But it was also obvious that fixing the old thing was important to him – he seemed desperate and for some reason, you felt like helping. And so, you found yourself sitting close to Draco on that old, tossed out couch with different heavy books resting in your lap every night, both searching for spells that could work. Each few day the space between you decreased until you reached a point where your knees touched and your shoulder pressed into his bicep. Sometimes you could even feel his minty breath on your face – just for a second. But the feeling began to linger even as you walked the stairs up to the Ravenclaw tower late at night.

You also found yourself thinking less and less about Ron.

Then, about a month after the Gryffindor party, the Katie Bell incident took place.

Harry began suspecting Draco of the attack and accused him of being a Death Eater. You didn’t go to the Room of Requirement for a few days after that because honestly, you were scared. You knew, deep in your heart that what Harry was saying made sense and because of that you started to believe that Draco’s cabinet wasn’t just some fun project. You lit on fire all the parchment you had written mending charms on, in a haste and with shaky hands.

You didn’t want to see him after that.

But you found yourself days later sneaking out of the tower late at night, quietly making your way to the seventh floor.

Draco got heavily scolded by Snape for the necklace attempt. The Professor found his action completely foolish and didn’t hesitate to let Draco know that. The boy arrived at the Room feeling beaten, defeated. On top of that, he was met by the empty couch and the broken cabinet and he snapped. In a fit of rage, he broke one of the cabinet’s doors and threw it at the couch. The noise he caused rang through the entire room, momentarily covering the silence. He couldn’t bear the sight of his failure any longer and the thought that you were now possibly scared of him after rumors of him being a Death Eater spread around the school, thanks to Potter, angered him even more.

“Training for the next Triwizard Tournament, Malfoy?”

Your voice made him turn around quickly, surprised look on his face.

A small smile danced at your lips, and you took out your wand. Pointing it at the broken door, you cast out “Repairo,” and the door lifted from the couch, gently levitating towards the cabinet and fixing itself. In the end, it looked as if nothing had happened. “At least this works, otherwise you would’ve had to pick up some muggle skills.” You teased.

Draco let out a small laugh, before his face fell again and he sat down on the dusty floor. His back rested against some other piece of forgotten furniture and he brought his knees up, hugging them to his chest. His head fell back, and he closed his eyes.

You quietly sat next to him with a huff.

“Why are you here?” Draco asked quietly.

After a moment of silence, you answered with honesty “I don’t know.” And you didn’t. You couldn’t understand why, despite the pit in your stomach that took shape as soon as Harry accused Draco of being a Death Eater, you were alone with him in a secret room, late at night.

Opening his eyes, Draco made a quick decision. He placed his left hand on your right knee, squeezing. Your eyes met – he looked calm; you were confused. “Do you trust me?” Draco’s voice was just a whisper. Alas, through the deafening silence of the Room, you heard him loud and clear.

“I don’t know.” You answered again. And, mirroring his impulsive move, you placed a hand over his. He felt cold at the touch and as you got used to the slightly stinging feeling, he found comfort in your warmth. “All I know is that I’m here, for some reason. I felt like seeing you.” You admitted, your voice tender and quiet.

Draco didn’t speak for a while. You thought you embarrassed yourself but didn’t dare to move.

“There are things about me that you really wouldn’t like if you knew.” The boy finally spoke. His eyes were glued to the cabinet that was a few feet from you both, but his mind was miles away. “I’m not a good man.” He admitted with no waver in his tone, no hesitation.

And maybe it was the daily, month-long meetings you’ve had with him. Or maybe it was the flicker of decency you saw in him when he got Pansy to release her painful grip on you the previous year. But your mind dug up small events and information buried deep in your memory that made you frown at his words. You remembered Dobby. Harry told you he was the Malfoy’s house elf who tried to keep him safe during second year, and it all seemed strange to you. You knew that house elves, if owned, could not act on their own volition no matter how strong their beliefs and inclinations were. In your mind it seemed unlikely that Dobby left the Malfoys without their knowledge and so, for the longest time you had a hunch it was Draco who sent Dobby to warn Harry. Especially since Lucius was the one who snuck Tom Riddle’s diary into Hogwarts. You were also quite sure it was Draco who helped Harry figure out the monster from the Chamber of Secrets was a Basilisk.

But overall, you knew Draco didn’t grow up in a good environment. He’d been heavily manipulated his entire life and it was in that moment, as you sat next to him on dirty floors, hand on top of his, that you decided whatever he was doing, he was doing either because of blackmail or manipulation.

“You can’t let the bad things from the past define you,” You whispered as your fingers slowly occupied the empty spaces between Draco’s own fingers. He was quick to grip your hand into his. “I think you are good. You’ve just been dealt shit cards.”

Draco didn’t show any emotion as he processed your words. But that night as he lay in his bed all he could think about were your words. Nobody had told him he was a good person before, and he’d never felt supported before in his life. And he felt a wave of emotions hit him all at once. He felt envy because Potter had had you all this time and because of your friendship with him, Draco didn’t get close to you sooner. He felt jealousy because he remembered you were in the Room in the first place because you were heartbroken over Ron – again, someone he didn’t like had all the things Draco felt he should’ve had instead. He felt comfort knowing you weren’t scared of him despite Potter filling your mind with (true) accusations. He felt hopeless because he was a Death Eater now and you were one of the good guys. He also felt entitled, selfish and determined because for the first time in a while, he found himself wanting something – someone, that he wanted for himself: you.

Over the next few months, you both unintentionally grew closer. Draco remembered every smile, every laugh shared between the two of you in the candlelight, hidden deep inside the Room of Requirement. Most days, he worked alone on the cabinet while you studied and pretended he wasn’t doing something potentially harmful. You both found yourselves finding comfort in the other’s mere presence.

You began to think less about Ron and more about Draco and it made you feel strangely guilty, especially when Ron would throw his arm around you like he used to in the Great Hall and you’d catch Draco’s eyes and excuse yourself to move back to the Ravenclaw table.

On certain nights you attempted to get Draco to do homework with you. But with each passing day, he became more and more anxious and afraid. And with each passing day, it hurt and worried you more and more. On a few occasions you did his Transfiguration homework for him just to keep him out of detention.

He owled you a Merry Christmas note during winter break but told you not to write him back. He knew you wished him happy holidays as well.

You gave him a Christmas present when you got back to Hogwarts – a ring, as you’d noticed he liked wearing them. His face lit up at the gesture and it was the first time he embraced you. The action was impulsive but it felt right. One of his arms wrapped around your lower back, the other cradled your head gently. His face buried in your neck and he held you so tight you didn’t dare move. He held you to make sure you were real and wouldn’t slip away from his grasp.

A little over a month later, Draco was feeling the pressure of his tasks heavier than ever. He felt sick each time he looked at the cabinet and you were noticing that. You were also noticing his complete disinterest in school and his reoccurring absences. He’d spend days in the Room, not even coming down to eat. You snuck him meals each time you could but sometimes you’d find them untouched on the floor.

“Alright, Draco. What’s going on?” You confronted him one night.

“Nothing.” He mumbled. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then help me understand,” you pleaded “Draco you’re not acting like yourself please, tell me what’s going on so I can help.” You never pleaded with a man before, never thought you would. Your ego felt too strong for this. And yet, there you were, standing behind a disheveled Draco Malfoy with an ache in your chest.

He ignored you.

You felt like throwing something at his head.

You watched as he opened the cabinet doors and took out a rotten apple. He held it in his hand for a second too long. It wasn’t unusual, you’ve watched him do this repeatedly over the past five months. You flinched when he threw the apple on the floor with vicious force. He then kicked the bottom of the cabined a bunch of times, yelling out in anger and frustration. His scream echoed through the Room. You pursed your lips.

“I can’t do this.” He finally spoke. “I can’t bloody do this and everyone’s going to die.” He started pacing around the small clearing amidst clutter. “My mum, my dad, me…you – we’re all going to die.” He kicked the plate of food you had brought him a few hours prior, spilling the contents over the floor.

You frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s gonna kill you and mum in front of me, make me watch,” He was frantic “probably gonna torture you first so I die remembering your screams. Then,” he pinched his nose, wiped his mouth “then he’ll kill me. I’ll be last and everyone’s gonna be taking the piss out of me, the fucking kid who couldn’t fix a fucking,” he kicked the cabinet again “magic fucking cabinet!” he kicked and kicked until you could feel the pain he felt in his leg yourself.

You walked up to him and attempted to pull him away from the large wooden broken object, but he pushed you away forcefully. You stumbled back in shock. “How dare – “ You couldn’t finish your sentence, however. He hastily turned to face you, pulling up the sleeve of his left arm aggressively, exposing the Dark Mark.

No words came out of your mouth after that.

You couldn’t seem to peel your eyes off of the mark, and Draco watched you with a pained heart. Part of him expected you to run, another to pull out your wand and attack. He didn’t know which one was coming, he didn’t know which one he preferred. However, he didn’t expect you to walk up to him with slow, steady steps.

His eyes locked with yours as you took his arm into your own. It was as if the Room emptied and the only things in it were the two of you. Holding his arm to your chest, you got as close to him as possible. As he looked down at you, his heavy breath fanned your face. “It’s okay, Draco.” You whispered. “I understand.”

And you did. You understood his choice, understood the position he was forced into. And your heart ached for him.

That’s the night Draco remembered best. The way your figure was illuminated by the soft glow of yellow candles, the soft fabric of your sweater rubbing on his skin. The kindness in your eyes spreading warmth through his veins, the way your lips moved when you spoke his name. Most times he thought about conjuring a Patronus, Draco believed the memory of that night was what he needed to focus on in order to succeed.

With his hand on the back of your head, he quickly lowered himself to reach your height and caught your lips in a kiss. He felt you smiling into it and he found himself mirroring you, until you pulled away to giggle into his shoulder. He couldn’t do anything besides kissing the top of your head.

Days later you were both laying on the couch you had transformed into a cozy spot. You were focused on his Mark, tracing your fingers along the lines of it, gently. Draco knew he was supposed to feel pride in having the Mark – that’s what his family had told him, but he felt something close to shame each time he looked at it.

You rested your hand on top of it, covering it. “I’m sorry. But we’ll figure it out.”

“Together?”

“Together.”

A week later he was forced into the meeting with his mom and Snape at the Shrieking Shack. The following night he walked towards the Room of Requirement late, with heavy steps. It felt as if each movement he made on the way happened in slow-motion.

You were reading comfortably when he finally reached you. A smile formed on your lips upon seeing him, but it faded when you took in his appearance, his sour face, hardened figure, stone gaze. “What’s wrong?”

Draco didn’t speak, only pointed his wand towards you. You froze. “Draco?” His hand shook, his face wavered. You were confused.

“I have to do this, (Y/N). He’ll kill you otherwise.” Draco’s voice cracked.

“No, he won’t. You’re a skilled Occlumentist, right? He can’t get into your mind.” You immediately caught on.

He shook his head. “He’ll know, he’ll know. Snape knows, mum knows,” he sounded so scared that you attempted to get up to comfort him, but he threated so you sat back down “he’ll know.”

Tears formed and blurred your vision as your heart picked up speed.

“You know, I didn’t wanna think about you, I wanted to stay focused. I came here to do a task, that’s it. I came to be great, to do great things for the Dark Lord.” Draco began, “But then I saw you. I’ve wanted you since fourth year and then here you were, being good to me and…you woke up a weakness inside me. And I got selfish, I put my mission aside to get something for myself.”

Tears now ran down your face, and Draco mirrored you. You shook your head, silently pleading for him to reconsider.

“But I have a mission, (Y/N) and it’s so important. I can’t be distracted. And I can’t have you being associated with me – it’ll get you killed and I can’t – I can’t have it.”

The candles flickered and for a split second your mind went to a Divination class, where Trelawney explained candle magic. Their dancing light showed instability, chaotic energy while its tall flame indicated success brought about with complications. The air felt cold as you stared at Draco who hadn’t fully stepped into the candlelight. An abyss of darkness stood tall behind him, the sights of it deepening the pit in your stomach. Despite his shaky hands, dark circles underneath his saddened eyes and hollow cheeks, Draco looked put-together. His hair wasn’t messy like it was the first night you found him in the Room. It was back to its slick, flawless style. He wore his all-black suit, and his tie wasn’t loosened.

“I also can’t have you walk out of here knowing everything about me.” His voice hardened and for the first time while being with him, you felt fear.  

“I won’t tell anyone.” Your voice was small. You sat up, your eyes beginning to look for a way out.

“I can’t risk it, you’re friends with Potter. You’re one of the good guys.”

“I won’t put you in danger, Draco.”

He grimaced at your words as if they’ve hit him with the force of a Cruciatus Curse. He tried not to let any more tears fall. You took his reaction as an opportunity to get closer to him. Maybe if you could take away his wand, touch him. Maybe then you could change his mind.

“I won’t endanger you either,” He whispered. “That’s why I have to do this.” At that, he lowered his wand and took two long strides towards you. Another one of his unpredictable actions that left you frozen in your spot. In a swift motion, he cupped your face between his calloused palms. “You know this is the right choice.”

“No,” you whispered and shook your head “no, it’s not. You can teach me Occlumency, I can help you,” your fearful eyes bore into his saddened ones, his heart ached at your words, at the fear he was capable of instilling in you. “We’re a good team, remember? I can help.” You kept pleading as your own hands rested on top of his. You felt the ring you’d given him still on his finger.

He simply shook his head with a small, almost unnoticeable smile on his face. “I’ve already corrupted you enough.” Draco admitted and you were taken aback; rendered speechless. “You’ve been covering for me with your friends, lying to Professors, basically doing my homework while I’m working on bringing the school down.”

Your heart dropped; hands started shaking. Draco felt it. He felt the weight of his words starting to crush you. Down in your mind you knew he was doing something bad with the cabinet, but you didn’t think it was so drastic.

Draco continued. Hurt her to save her, his mom’s words rang through his mind. “I’m using the Vanishing Cabinet to bring Death Eaters into Hogwarts,” his words made you remember the Death Eaters attack at the Quidditch World Cup, where you were almost trampled. You remembered the attack on London that sent one of your family members to the Hospital. You remembered how ruthless the Death Eaters were at the Ministry, when they were throwing deadly curses at a bunch of teenagers.

And there it was.

The look of betrayal, hurt and fear on your face that Draco never wanted to see. He tried to remember the night you saw his Mark, the night you accepted and comforted him. That’s what he wanted to remember, not this. “After I get them here, I’m going to kill Dumbledore.” He continued.

Chills erupted on your body and you recoiled from his touch.

“I knew you were planning something bad, but this, Draco?” You couldn’t speak louder than a whisper as you took small steps away from him. He knew this was coming; the disgust, the unacceptance. Was your speech about understanding him all bullshit? “You don’t have to- “

“Yes, I do. It’s my mission.”

“No, listen to me. You’re not this person, you’re not a Death Eater. I know you, Draco. You’re still a good person put in a terrible situation but it’s not all lost, we can-“ Despite your fear, you still found yourself comforting him, pleading with him. Your mind lead an inner battle between understanding the boy’s motives and wanting to let Harry know of everything that was happening.

You couldn’t let Dumbledore die, couldn’t let Death Eaters attack Hogwarts.

“I cursed Katie Bell. Almost killed her.” Draco cut you off.

“I know.” You deadpanned. He parted his lips and frowned in confusion. “I saw the necklace in your bag a week before it all happened. Then I saw it on McGonagall’s desk. It wasn’t hard to piece together the puzzle.” You explained.

Despite the warmth spreading through his heart at the thought of you not abandoning him even after knowing that all those months ago, at the thought that he’d finally found someone to be on his side for once in his life, someone who understood and maybe even actually loved him – despite it all, Draco’s eyes had never showed less emotion.

You wanted to cry but didn’t. Your ego won.

“You know I have to do this, (Y/N).” His voice didn’t waver anymore. The more reasons you gave him to love you, the more his decision solidified in his mind. “And you know I’m doing the right thing,” he wanted to hold you so bad, but he didn’t move; instead, you both stood feet away from each other. “Knowing all this puts you in danger. Coming here every night puts you in danger hell, even looking at me in the Great Hall puts you in danger. I can’t see you brought into the manor tied up, imprisoned and killed as a punishment for me. And you know I’m right. I’m not just some irrelevant follower, I’ve sat at a damn table with The Dark Lord countless times this summer. He’s been in my home; he knows me personally.”

You couldn’t look at him the more he spoke. So, your gaze was stuck on a candle, but your eyes remained unfocused.  

“You’re smart.” Draco kept speaking, his tone now loud and confident. “This is the part where you tell me that even though you wanna change my mind, you know I’m doing the right thing,” he even joked. You wanted to cry but couldn’t speak. He was right. “Tell me you’re proud of me because I’m putting someone else’s wellbeing above my own for once” his voice became muffled, as if he spoke from underwater. It was silent for a moment as Draco watched you process his words, “You’ll be on the right side of history after this. You’ll go back to Weasley who’s a better choice for you than I could ever be – even though it kills me to say that.”

All you could do was shake your head in disbelief.

By the time you looked back up at him, he had a few tears running down his face and his wand pointed at you. And so you cried.

“We were a good team, weren’t we?” Draco spoke with one last saddened smile.

“Draco, please. I love –“ you began, but Draco couldn’t bear hear it.

You watched Draco wipe his tears with a swift motion, before a white light formed at the tip of his wand. His voice came out strong, unwavering, and determined. His hand stopped shaking.

“Obliviate,” Draco uttered before you could react.

#draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfic #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy imagines #harry potter #harry potter imagine #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy x reader #ron weasley #ron weasley imagine #hhtsh

[rebelwrites]

Crazy For You

Jax Teller x Reader

The black marks from last night. The tears you cried still on my sweater, I step over the plate that you broke last night, I pick up your clothes that I threw outside. In the cold light of day we can leave it behind, Out of our minds

The house felt cold without your presence. Jax ran his hand over his face as he started to tidy up, picking up the broken plates that scattered the kitchen.

He knew you were in a bad mood as soon as you walked in the house, and things just blew up from there. He couldn’t remember what the argument was about but he sighed at some of the things you said. It was like you had been bottling everything up and last night just exploded.

Soon enough he had cleared the kitchen and headed out onto the back garden picking all the clothes up, dumping them in the wash basket he grabbed his sweater which was covered in black marks from your mascara.

Placing a cigarette between his lips, he sighed. He had no idea where you sped off to last night, you weren’t answering your phone. Pulling his phone out of his back pocket he saw he had a message off Tig saying you were safe and at his, in that moment Jax sighed a breath of relief, you were safe.

- - -

You were so glad the diner was busy today, it would at least help take your mind off last night.

“Y/N stop fretting,” Frank said, placing his hand on your shoulders. “It was just an argument”

“Yeah but some of the things I said Frankie” you sighed “all of my emotions came out last night”

“And if that boy still loves you he will understand things from your side, and understand why you flipped. You guys have been together years and this is your first argument so just give each other space kiddo” the older man smiled softly at you.

As the day went on, the words you spat at Jax kept replying in your head. It was like all your worries and fears came to light. Your attention was taken to the door opening and you saw a flower delivery guy walk in with the biggest bunch of white roses and purple daisys you had ever seen.

“I’m looking for Y/N Y/L/N” he shouted.

“That’s me” you nodded as he placed the flowers on the counter.

“Someone loves you” the guy laughed before leaving the diner.

Reaching into the flowers you pulled the card out to see Jax’s messy handwriting.

“A thousand flowers, the power of saying sorry. So you don’t have to call to find out you know you got me. Even when you hurt me the way you have. Even though you know I can treat you bad. But we’re drawn once again like a moth to a flame. All my love Jax x”

A laugh escaped your lips as you realised he had written some of the lyrics to one of your favourite songs. Wiping the stray tear that had fallen down your cheek, you looked up to see Jax stood outside leaning against his bike just watching you.

I guess we get a little bit crazy, I guess we get a little bit cruel. But this is how crazy you make me. Bad enough to think about losing you. But even as I walk away and I say I’m gonna stay. Only takes a moment or two, Cause you and I both know the truth. I’m crazy for you.

You couldn’t help but laugh as you heard him playing the song outside, fully causing a scene but you didn’t mind. After everything you said last night he was still here.

“Thank you for the flowers, they are beautiful” you smiled at him.

“I’m glad you liked them darlin’” he smiled back.

“Also using lyrics to my favourite song is a bit cheesy though” you laughed stepping closer to him.

“Well the lyrics fit so why not” he smirked taking your hand before he sang along “Takes a little fire to keep things hot. Takes a little loss to know what you’ve got. Forgiving and forgetting takes a lot. But we know what we’ve got”

“You are such a dork” you giggled as he pulled you into his arms.

“But I’m your dork” he smirked “why didn’t you voice your concerns about the club Babygirl”

“I dunno” you sighed “I guess it’s because the club is your life Jax, and it’s not very old lady like is it”

“Princess, listen to me” Jax whispered, placing his hand on your cheek. “If you asked me to walk away from the club, leave it behind and move out of charming, I would do so without even thinking about it. You are my life and never forget that”

“I would never ask you to leave Jax” you whispered. “And plus Charming is home”

“Well then I think it’s time we got the club out of the drugs and gun running” he whispered smiling at you.

“You’d do that?” You asked.

“For you babygirl I’d do anything”

#Jax Teller #jax teller x reader #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy x reader

[averykedavra]

If you’re feeling up for it could you please do 3. “You’re not hurting me, you’re not heavy. I’ve got you, love.” With Roman and Janus. Thank you!!

(Wow, you all really like roceit, huh? This is my sole prompt for today as I caught up on homework instead, but I’ll be back tomorrow, if canon doesn’t break me)

Words: 3981

“Okay,” Janus said. “What’s wrong?”

“What?” Roman flinched and pulled at his apron. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Hold on a second,” Janus told the customer in front of him, who opened their mouth to ask a question. Janus made a zip it gesture before pushing off the counter and dragging Roman into the storage closet. The door automatically closed, and Janus kicked the wedge into the gap before it slammed.

Hidden among racks of coffee beans, Roman seemed to relax. He ran a hand through his hair and leaned forward to kiss Janus quickly on the lips.

“You okay?” Roman asked when he pulled away. “You look stressed.”

“Of course I am, I’m on barista duty.” Janus glanced at the door. He could hear the customers babbling, but if this was an emergency, they would survive without a dead-eyed barista to hand them coffee. “What’s wrong?”

“What, do I need an excuse to see my boyfriend?” Roman placed a hand on his chest in mock hurt. “I love you!”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Janus said, though he allowed himself to preen at the affection. “You’re harried and there’s coffee all over your apron. And you’re supposed to be lifting boxes. What happened?”

Roman sighed and deflated like an old balloon. “The shadow demons are holding the place hostage again.”

“Again?” Janus groaned. “What is that, three times this month?”

“Yep.” Roman popped the p.

Janus sighed and glanced at his feet. “What do they want this time?”

“Dunno, but I can assume the usual.” Roman waved a hand. “Annihilation and destruction and blood to drench the floors, et cetera et cetera.”

“Great. This shift was too quiet.” Janus untied his ponytail and retied it, pulling all the strands taut. “Any casualties so far?”

“The coffee machine stopped working again.”

“Those bastards.”

“I’ve been telling you to get an exorcist,” Roman said. “Honey, this is just going to keep happening.”

“Am I in charge? No! Ask Patton, whenever he actually shows up.” Janus rolled his eyes. “Besides, exorcists are scam artists and religious nuts.”

“We have demons,” Roman pointed out. “You can believe in shadow demons, but not in exorcists?”

Janus rolled his eyes again. “That’d be a large chunk of the budget. If it matters to you so much, ask Patton.”

Roman huffed. “I’d much rather talk to you! Because I like you!”

“Sap.” Janus glanced at the door again. “We’d better hurry. What’s the details of this one?”

“Runes on the basement wall. Can’t decipher them. Virgil’s guarding the door to make sure nothing escapes.”

“Runes. Should be easy.” Janus wiped his hands on his apron and wished he’d made himself a shot of espresso. Saving the coffee shop was always easier while buzzed on caffeine. “Lead the way, darling.”

“Gladly!” Roman grabbed his hand, kissed it, and pulled Janus out of the storage room. They passed a clamoring crowd of customers, and Janus soaked in the final glimpse of sunlight. It was a busy day. All the more reason to solve this problem before it threatened any customers--they didn’t need another one-star Yelp review.

Of course, they could just move. Or, probably more reasonably, burn the cursed place to the ground and stab the ashes. No good could come from a shop so deeply filled with shadow demons. But Patton insisted--through email, the few times he actually responded--that the place had value to the community. Janus doubted that, but he wasn’t paid enough to object.

Capitalism. The only reason he took this job. It had seemed too good to be true that they were hiring without any previous experience. And, as Janus feared, it was.

Still, perhaps it would be good for his resume. Worked as manager-by-default at Spirit Cafe. Practiced at taking orders from no one, fighting shadow spirits, bartering for the life of an unlucky intern, and making espresso.

“Capitalism,” Janus complained as Roman led him downstairs.

“Yes, love, I know.”

The basement was two levels--the first was called the ‘chocolate factory,’ and the second, ‘spider hell.’ Roman had named the first in a burst of whimsy after rereading the Willy Wonka book. The second was self-explanatory. The second was also home to most of the demons.

When Janus passed the few employees around, they gave him a do we have to evacuate look. He responded with a don’t think so, keep toiling for the man look. Roman gave them all a perky thumbs up.

The second set of stairs were too greasy to make out their color. It was old legend that the posters and artwork grew older the farther you went--the cafe on the top floor was fresh and bright, and the chocolate factory was decorated with motivational posters that were splattered with coffee. Spider hell was devoid of intact decorations. Just old photos with faded edges, a few outdated certificates of health, and torn motivational posters.

For example, the poster on the door to spider hell. It had a kitten image, and was probably supposed to say Hang in there! The bottom was torn off. It just said Hang.

Roman opened the door and bowed dramatically. Janus sighed, kissed Roman’s cheek, and entered spider hell.

The hallway itself was clean, if a bit too reminiscent of fluorescent middle school halls. Most of the doors didn’t open. Janus kicked one as he passed, and the narrow window glinted back at him. Door, door, old bathroom with moths around the lights, door, mysterious graffiti--

Virgil, who breathed a sigh of relief and slumped against the door to the boiler room. His apron was tied around his waist like a sweater. Behind him were several wooden rods, a few floorboards, and balled-up motivational posters, all jammed against the door to keep it locked.

“You’ve been busy,” Roman said. “Is that a folding chair?”

“I had to be careful!” Virgil pressed closer to the door. “I’m too young to die! I was gonna steal some metal from the pipes, but Janus would have been mad.”

“Correct,” Janus agreed. “We’re going to deal with this situation, alright? You can go cover for me upstairs--we need another barista.”

“I can leave?” Virgil whooped. “Oh, thank fuck, I’m gonna get the hell out of here. Have fun.”

“We will!” Roman said.

Virgil saluted them, then raced down the hallway. “Gonna expect a pay raise for all this!”

“Take it up with Patton,” Janus yelled.

“Don’t blame things on your imaginary friend!”

“He’s not--”

The door slammed behind Virgil. Janus turned to Roman petulantly. “He’s not imaginary. I’ve seen him. Once.”

“Sure,” Roman said.

“Ugh.” Janus rolled his eyes. “Why do I keep you two around?”

“Well, Virgil’s the coffee machine whisperer! And I’m devilishly handsome.” Roman winked at him. “You can’t resist, dearest.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Janus turned to the door. “In we go?”

“Into the breach, dear boyfriend.”

It took several minutes to pull the obstacles off the door. Virgil had managed to pound nails into the doorframe, probably in sheer panic, and Roman kept pausing to nurse splinters. Janus pried the folding chair from the door, tore off the posters, and kissed Roman’s hand when he asked. Finally, the door was clear enough for Janus to force it open.

An unwritten rule at the coffee shop was to keep flashlights everywhere. Behind every door, on every table, and in every pocket. Janus pulled his own out of his apron. Roman did the same.

At first, the boiler room looked normal. The huffing pipes, tossing steam into the corners, and the grimy concrete floor. Then Janus’ flashlight skidded onto the wall, and the beam illuminated a series of runes burned into the plaster. Each letter was about the size of Janus’ head, and the edges were rough, like they’d been clawed there.

“No blood,” Janus noticed. “They’re losing their touch.”

“I’m assuming that’s a message.” Roman walked forward and squinted at it. “Can you make anything out?”

Janus tried to put the squiggles into some kind of order. It looked like a few dozen letters, but he couldn’t be sure, because they blended into each other and made his head hurt. “I have no idea what that says.”

“Darn.” Roman folded his arms and flickered his flashlight on the runes like a strobe light. They did not magically coalesce into something coherent. “Logan’s not here, right?”

“He’s off-shift.” Janus thought for a second before pulling out his phone. “I’ll text him.”

“What if he’s busy?”

“The customer is always right, and always comes first,” Janus said while unlocking his phone. “Customers don’t want to die. He can spare a moment for us. And I’m his manager-by-default, so he has to do what I say.”

“Fair,” Roman said, giving Janus the you’re very cute when you’re in charge smile.

Janus would have teased him about that, if they had time. Instead, he just shot Logan a text. Can you decode something?

Half a minute passed.

This is important, Janus texted.

Ten more seconds with no response.

I will fire you, Janus texted. We’re all going to die, Janus texted. This is an emergency, Janus texted. Our deaths will be on your conscience if you keep ignoring me, Janus texted.

“Maybe he just hasn’t seen the texts,” Roman pointed out, leaning over Janus’ shoulder.

Answer me or I swear I’ll fucking find you, Janus texted.

“Dearest,” Roman said.

“What?”

Before Roman could say something endearingly naive about ‘compassion’ or whatever, Janus’ phone buzzed.

What do you need? Logan had texted back.

Janus held up his phone and took a picture of the runes. Fortunately, they showed up on camera. The picture still mysteriously corrupted mid-message, but when Janus re-sent it, Logan sent back a thumbs up.

What does it say? Janus asked.

Logan typed for several seconds. Finally, Janus received a small wall of text. He skimmed it, closed his eyes, and opened his eyes again.

“That’s not English,” Roman said hesitantly. “I’m not losing it. That’s not English, right?”

“I think it’s Catalan.” Janus sighed and thumbed out a response. That wasn’t English, try again.

Apologies, Logan responded. I’ll try again.

Janus waited impatiently, watching the small white dots as Logan texted. Roman dropped a kiss to his forehead for no apparent reason. Janus did his best not to blush.

Finally, Logan sent a small paragraph, followed by English?

Yes, good job. Thank you.

No problem. Stop texting me more than once or I will block you.

How dare you, I am your manager.

No response. Janus resolved to discreetly spill coffee on Logan’s shirt on their next shared shift.

“What’d he say?” Roman asked, impatiently jumping from foot to foot.

Janus skimmed the paragraph. “It looks like a riddle. ‘What walks on two legs--’”

“Human,” Roman interrupted. “Oh, that’s an easy one!”

Janus shook his head. “‘What walks on two legs in the air, eight legs on the ground, and more legs the longer you look?’”

For a second, they were both quiet.

“That’s not a human,” Roman finally said, a bit weakly.

“Humans don’t tend to gain limbs, you’re correct.” Janus let out a breath. “Analogy or not, human is not the answer.”

“Then what is it?” Roman turned to the wall again. The letters dripped like burns down the wall. “We--I’m assuming they want us to solve the riddle.”

“Yeah.”

“Why a riddle?”

“Sometimes you get bored,” Janus said. “I get it.”

Roman looked incredulously at him.

“The bigger question is what happens if we don’t guess it,” Janus continued, tapping his fingers on his phone. “Definitely something good.”

“And how much time do we have?”

As if by agreement, they both looked back at the door. It had slammed shut. The only light were their flashlights, illuminating the hulking boiler and the dustiest corners of spider hell. No spiders yet, but it was only a matter of time. Janus could almost hear them rustling.

“That’s not going to open,” Roman said, his voice pitched up. “Is it?”

“Only one way to make sure.” Janus strode over to the door and tugged on the handle. It was like tugging on a concrete wall. “Congratulations, you win a prize.”

“Wonderful,” Roman exclaimed. “Fabulous! We’re trapped here!”

Janus stepped back and rammed his shoulder into the door. The only thing he achieved was shoulder pain.

“I’m gonna call someone.” Roman pulled out his phone. The blue light trembled over his face. “Get us out of here.”

“We haven’t solved the riddle yet!” Janus protested, giving up on the locked door. “Solve it, and we leave, and the shop won’t be in danger.”

“I’d rather be alive, thanks!”

“Coward,” Janus murmured, scanning the room for immediate threats, and finding nothing but shadows and cobwebs. That didn’t mean nothing was there. It just meant they still had time. “We have to keep the shop from burning down, it’s the bare minimum of our jobs.”

Roman ran a hand through his hair. “And what’s it to us? I hate this job, and so do you.”

“Patton would fire me if I didn’t--”

“So get fired!” Roman burst out in frustration. “Let this place go up in smoke, I don’t care!”

“There are people in here! We need their money!” Janus waved his hands around. “Capitalism!”

That made Roman snicker, which made the tension settle, which made Janus smile back.

“You can leave if you’d like,” Janus allowed after a moment. “If you can find a way out. I can try to solve the riddle on my own.”

“What? No! We’re in this together.” Roman grinned at him. “If my boyfriend is stubborn enough to face down shadow demons like an idiot, I’m going to be an idiot with him.”

“Charming,” Janus said sarcastically, to avoid saying something extremely sappy. “You truly know how to treat a man.”

“I do!” Roman smiled wider and gestured at the runes. “A very smart man who will definitely solve this riddle!”

Janus nodded and turned back to the wall of runes.

Two legs in the air, and eight legs on the ground. It must be an analogy, like the original riddle, but what could air and ground represent? Imagination and reality? Or perhaps the legs were the metaphorical parts--

“Go Janus!” Roman cheered quietly from behind him.

“What?”

“I’m encouraging you!” Roman made jazz hands. “Solve it! You can do it, dear!”

Janus snickered and rolled his eyes.

“Go Janus,” Roman whispered.

Janus tried to focus on the riddle again.

Maybe he should research it. Logan clearly didn’t have an answer, or he probably would have included it with his text, but Logan was still a good problem-solver. Janus should have asked what language it was in. Janus should have confirmed the translation. Janus should have given Virgil a backup plan.

There was no use psyching himself out, though. This was another routine afternoon. He’d come out victorious a dozen times before, and there was no reason he wouldn’t keep up the streak.

Two legs in the air, eight legs on the ground, and more legs the longer he looked.

Janus looked harder.

And he saw legs. And hands, and claws scratching at the cement.

Oh, yay, just what he’d wanted! It must be his birthday.

“Roman,” Janus said slowly. “Do you see that too?”

“What?”

“Look very closely.”

A long pause. Then a loud “Fuck!”

“You see it?”

“Hard to miss now,” Roman said, wide-eyed. “What is that?”

Slowly, and steadily, the runes were crumbling. The burns were melting deeper into the wall. And from the holes, shadows climbed out--or maybe it was just the holes themselves, deepening and tearing, turning the world inside out.

“Fun,” Janus said, wishing he’d taken his chance to get the hell out of here while he still could. “This is very, very fun.”

“We should probably solve that riddle,” Roman said.

“Oh, really?” Janus clutched his flashlight tighter. The beam glanced off the shadows like light on oil. “I would have never guessed.”

Two legs in air, eight legs on the ground, more legs and hands and eyes glistening with oil--

The next few seconds were a blur. Something lunged, Janus’ flashlight winked out, and Roman’s clattered to the ground. A cold rope-hand-something curled around his ankle, and Roman’s hand grabbed his.

“Where’s my--” Roman’s voice was panicked. “Shit, okay, the flashlight’s by the boiler--”

“Okay,” Janus said quietly, trying to kick away the cold cloud-hand-whatever it was. “I can’t see the runes anymore.”

“They’re basically falling apart as we speak. You remember the riddle, right?”

“Two, eight, far too many.” Janus swallowed and tried to think. The cold around his ankle was growing warm, too, like frostbite so icy it burned. “Two, eight--”

His ankle was wrenched in a direction it wasn’t supposed to.

Janus heard a wet snap.

And oh, he knew that feeling. Too sudden and complete to hurt. Too much hurt to even comprehend, as if he could feel the pain coming, but not enough time to brace himself. Not nearly enough time.

Red-hot pain, jolting up his bones, from his broken fucking ankle.

He might have screamed. His knees buckled, and someone--Roman--caught him halfway to the floor. Everything was dark. Something red flashed in his vision. Janus could barely breathe without pain tearing at his lungs, but he tried, breathe in and out and wait for the world to stop spinning.

“Hey, whoa, okay, okay,” Roman was murmuring. “What happened? What--”

Janus opened his mouth to explain. All that escaped was a small whimper. If Janus was in less pain, he would have been embarrassed.

“Okay, okay, love, it’s okay.” A hand brushed Janus’ hair out of his face. “Keep breathing. Calm down. It’s okay.”

“Ankle,” Janus forced out. His limbs felt like jelly. “Fucking ankle, gonna fucking--”

“Yes, yes, you’ll get your revenge.” Roman’s voice was achingly soft, and it made Janus relax a bit. “I can lower you to the ground so you don’t have to put weight on it--”

“No,” Janus complained, rather enjoying the feeling of Roman’s arms around him. “Pretty sure we wanna be able to run--”

“You can’t run anyway.”

“Capitalism,” Janus mumbled. “Hate it.”

“Me too, love.”

Something scraped at Janus’ shoulder, something that felt uncomfortably like teeth. He stifled a yelp.

“Oh, that was something.” Roman’s harried tone told Janus he’d felt it, too. “Where is my flashlight--I can’t see anything--”

“Riddle,” Janus reminded him.

“Right,” Roman said. “Right, right, you know what? I’m gonna call someone! I’m gonna call someone.”

“Mm.”

A pause and several rustles. The pain was dulling to a manageable low roar. Janus felt something brush his hand and he swatted at it. Maybe they’d break his other ankle next. Maybe they’d work through him limb by limb, like a game of Hangman.

“Fuck off,” Janus told the darkness.

“Phone’s not--” Roman swore. “Phone’s not working. Of course.”

“Riddle.”

“Right.”

“Riddle,” Janus repeated. Two legs, eight legs, lots of legs. Maybe it didn’t have an answer and they were just messing with him. Maybe he’d answer it and die anyway. That would be a shame, dying with his boyfriend, especially because letting everyone in the building perish was definitely a health code violation.

Roman whacked at something. “Away, foul fiends!”

Janus tested his ankle. He couldn’t even bring himself to move it.

Wonderful. He couldn’t solve a three-line riddle, and he was going to die like a fool in the shadows of spider hell--

Wait.

“Two legs,” Janus said. His voice rasped. “Two legs in the air, when it’s falling on a thread--oh, I hate you.”

“What?” Roman asked.

“And eight legs on the ground, and more legs the longer you look.” Janus laughed. “That’s fair enough.”

Something brushed against his back, feeling like scales.

“Spiders,” Janus said. “That’s the answer! Are you happy now? It’s spiders, leave us alone!”

For one horrifying second, one throb of his ankle, nothing happened.

And then the flashlight at Janus’ feet turned on.

Spider hell looked the same as it always did. Empty walls, a boiler choking on steam, and Roman’s flashlight rolling in the dust. Roman grabbed Janus’, leaned over, and grabbed his own.

“What--” Roman looked around. “Did you--solve it?”

“I think--” Janus slipped a bit in Roman’s arms.

“You did it!” Roman laughed in relief. “You did it, you absolute genius--”

Janus looked up at his boyfriend. Even through the haze of pain, he looked exceedingly adorable. Janus leaned forward and kissed him quickly on the lips. “Don’t flatter me.”

“But darling, it’s so easy!” Roman adjusted Janus in his arms. “Does your ankle hurt?”

“Take a guess.”

“We’ll have to find you a doctor,” Roman said, pulling him forward. “Out of the basement first, though, before another villainous creature decides to use as afternoon entertainment.”

“Or the spiders find us,” Janus agreed. He tried to shift his weight onto his good foot, but he could barely move without his head spinning. “Ow.”

“Just stay put! I’ll carry you!”

“No.”

“I’ll assist you,” Roman amended. “Lean on me, and I’ll walk you upstairs, okay?”

Janus shifted in Roman’s arms. “Am I hurting you? I’m heavy.”

“You’re not hurting me, you’re not heavy.” Roman pressed a kiss to Janus’ head and led him to the door. He kicked it, and it opened. “I’ve got you, love. I’m escorting the brave savior of the coffee shop!”

“I’m manager by default,” Janus said, wrapping an arm around Roman’s waist. Just to hold himself up, of course. No other reason. “It’s my job.”

“You do a great job of it!”

“Someone has to.” Janus clung to Roman’s side as he led them up the stairs. The poster told him to Hang. Janus filled in the other two words, and hung in there.

“I think it’s broken,” Janus said as Roman half-carried him up the stairs. “This is humiliating. Also, expensive.”

“We’ll figure it out, people get hurt, it happens.” Roman paused on one landing. “I’m just happy it wasn’t anything worse.”

“Still the worst injury so far,” Janus said ruefully. “Give me employee of the month.”

Roman smiled and pulled him up the final stairs. “I’ll ask Patton.”

When they burst dramatically through the doors into the cafe, Virgil breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re not dead!”

“Not for lack of trying, no.” Janus eased himself onto a chair and took a deep breath. The cafe was bursting with people and lights, all the customers completely unaware that they’d just escaped their demise. Janus envied them. “The situation is taken care of, you can relax.”

“Thanks,” Virgil said. “Uh--you okay?”

“He’s taking the rest of the day off,” Roman said before Janus could explain. “Broken ankle. I’m going to rest with him at home, then he’ll take a trip to the clinic.”

“I’ll what?” Janus repeated. “I have a shift--”

“You’re the manager,” Roman pointed out. “Give yourself a free day.”

“The cafe’s busy! I’d leave us short-staffed!”

“You can’t walk.”

“Capitalism!”

“Self-care!” Roman folded his arms. “Virgil, can you cover for Janus as he goes home?”

“Uh--” Virgil looked between them. Janus expected him to say no. “‘Course! I bet I can grab Logan for an emergency shift, too.”

“No, you can’t,” Janus said mockingly as Virgil pulled out his phone. “He’s a bastard and won’t--”

Virgil’s phone buzzed. “He’ll be here in five.”

“Wh--” Janus blinked. “How did you--”

“He just doesn’t like you.” Virgil smirked at him. “Go rest, Jan, we’ll cover your ass.”

“You heard him!” Roman held out a hand. “Come on, love, let’s have a break. The coffee shop won’t burn down while you’re gone, and if it does, Patton can handle it.”

Janus wasn’t sure about that one. Maybe he would return to a burned shell of a building. Or several dead bodies.

But Virgil and Logan knew what to do. And an afternoon with his boyfriend didn’t sound too bad.

“Fine,” Janus said. “I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

Give me a prompt, and I’ll write a short drabble!

#roceit #roman sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides #logan sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #averywrites #asks and answers #anon #yes i had way too much fun with this au why do u ask #yes this is too long why do u ask #yes i need sleep why do u ask #crap forgot warnings #tw injury #tw death mention #tw spiders #coffee shop au #supernatural au

[thiswasinevitableid]

29 for indruck nsfw? i am already amused thinking about what sport either of them would play

Here you go!

29. I’m a professional athlete and I just fired my personal assistant and my manager sent you over but you don’t even know what sport I play or who my team is

When you’re in an aggressive profession it’s best, in Duck’s experience, to be as calm and friendly as you can the rest of the time.

But this whole shit-show is testing his fucking limits.

It’s been two days since he found out his perfectly fine P.A was working for the Wallstreet Journal, hoping to learn that Duck was somehow using his T or his identity to gain an unfair edge in matched. Ned fired him on the spot, thank god, but it took less than twelve hours for the guy to publish some fabricated piece on his attitude and for Duck to remember why he needed an assistant in the first place. He’s gotten so used to having one that he keeps forgetting stuff or dropping the ball on appointments, and the last thing he needs right now is to look like some stupid hick.

When Ned texts him to let him know his new P.A is en route, Duck groans “thank fuck” loud enough to startle the cat from her tree.

He goes to the door when someone knocks, but doesn’t open it.

“Who is it?”

“Indrid Cold? I, ah, Mr. Chicane said this was Duck Newton’s address and I’m supposed to start as his assistant tomorrow.”

Duck opens the door, “Fuck tomorrow, you’re startin today. I gotta focus on strategy with Minerva the next two days if I don’t wanna show my ass Friday night and it’s real fuckin hard to do that with people callin me left and right.” He guides the startled young man inside, then stops to take a deep breath, “sorry, lemme try that again” he holds out his hand, “Nice to meet you, Indrid.”

“Likewise, Mr. Newton.”

“Duck is fine. It’s a nickname. You bring your stuff with you?”

“Yes, it’s all in my car.”

“Good. Here, lemme give you the, uh, the grand tour, so to speak, on the way to your part of the place.”

Indrid smiles and nods, hanging back slightly as Duck leads him through the house. They cover the living room, kitchen, Duck’s bedroom, then come what was once the garage door.

“This here’s the gym; you can’t find me in the rest of the house, I’m probably here.”

“Goodness” The other man’s eyes widen behind his red glasses, “that’s an impressive array. I mean, I know professional athletes need to train but I, ah, I assumed you did it on site with the rest of your team.”

“Team?” Duck closes the door, spots Indrid’s fingers diving into his pockets to hide their twitching.

“Yes.”

“Which team?”

“Your...sports team?”

“....you got no fuckin clue who I am, do you?”

“No.” Narrow shoulders sag in his sweater.

Duck chuckles, “Figures.”

The silver haired head snaps back up, “Mr. Chicane didn’t say it was a prerequisite for hiring me.”

“Guess he didn’t. And I guess it ain’t. Just hoped they’d hire someone who knew what the fuck he was gettin into.”

Indrid crosses his arms, “They gave me a very thorough job description. I assure you I can do every part of it. Laying out your pre-workout and scheduling appearances isn’t rocket science, and it doesn’t matter if the dry cleaning I pick up is for a, a baseball after party or some sort of charity basketball fundraiser.” It dawns on the taller man that he’s just snapped at his boss. He contracts in on himself, staring down at his black converse.

Duck takes the chance for a more careful look; all of his clothes are second hand, chosen as if he’s cosplaying a jock who went into white collar work. There are piercing holes in his ears, flecks of silver polish on his nails. This job application was a hail mary and Ned Chicane went ahead and caught.

“No harm done, slim.” He rests a friendly hand on Indrid’s arm, “think it’s time I enlightened you.”

His office doesn’t get used much, so a sprinkling of dust greets them as he flips on the lights and reveals posters, magazine covers, and newspaper clips bearing Duck’s face. The gloves he used to win his first fight hang in a place of honor, right above the photo of him and the other fighters from Amnesty Boxing. It’s an older photo, taken the first time they sent a team out of state, sun-faded to the point the writing on it is disappearing. It makes him smile all the same.

“This does explain the set of instructions for helping you cut weight if needed.” Indrid takes in the posters, then turns his attention to the corner dedicated to Duck’s model ship collection. He cocks his head, says more to himself than Duck, “boxer. Interesting.”

“Were you just gonna bluff about knowin who I was until I said somethin?”

“That and look for clues in the rest of the house.”

He smiles, “Like a man with a plan b. C’mon, lemme show you your room.”

-----------------------------------------

Alright, so Indrid should have researched Duck Newton before turning up at his house so he didn’t come across as ignorant and unprepared. But he was busy running every Taskrabbit and UberEat he could get just to scrape up enough to keep his landlord off his back. Sue him for not wanting to sleep in his car again.

He never expected to get this job; live-in P.A who doesn’t have to pay for groceries (buy them, yes, since that’s one of his jobs) is not the kind of luck he’s familiar with. He keeps waiting for the catch, so nervous that when Duck pops in on him unpacking he assumes he’ll scold him for his wardrobe.

“I, should I buy some more professional clothes?”

Duck takes in the two duffle bags and backpack, “Up to you. I don’t mind you lookin like the little art punk you are, but a dress shirt or two might help if we gotta go somewhere real upscale. Don't worry about buyin it yourself; just use the same card we do for groceries.”

Indrid is still hung up on why the fact a man three inches shorter than him calling him “little” makes his chest burn. Luckily, the phone rings and distracts him. Then it rings again. And again. And again. All while the inbox doubles every time he looks at it.

This turns out to be the catch; the work is actually hard. Everyone and their uncle wants to interview Duck, get him to sponsor something, or proposition him. Four hours in, he’s overwhelmed, overstimulated, and ready to hide under the desk. His fidget necklace isn’t helping, so he pulls out his chewable one; it often helps him think in high pressure moments.

The phone rings again and he growls at it.

“You’re allowed to let things go to voicemail, y’know.”

He spins in his chair, black rubber moth still in his mouth. Duck leans in the doorway, tank top soaked in sweat and towel around his shoulders

“I, I’m sorry. I just don’t want to drop anything important.”

“Ned handles the fights and the money, and anyone I care about has my private number for emergencies.”

“Right. I knew that.” Indrid can’t have his boss thinking he’s a total space-case.

Duck smiles, “What I’m sayin is; ain’t the end of the world if you don’t get back to everyone right away. Besides, right now you need a lunch break, slim. Lemme go rinse off and I’ll join you.”

By the time Duck enters the kitchen in an old “NIN” shirt and jeans, Indrid has his protein bowl laid out for him and is finishing microwaving a hot pocket for himself. Before he can scurry away, Duck pats the seat beside him and Indrid sits down, preparin to politely listen to Duck talk about himself or his sport.

He talks for ten minutes about the trees he saw on his run that morning before asking Indrid what he did before coming to the house. Indrid explains about his art and his side hustles in tarot and palm reading, about the run of bad luck that saw him without roommates and lost him his steady gig at a coffee shop. Duck makes genuinely sympathetic noises, lets Indrid change the subject when the fact he was on the edge of disaster makes Indrid’s chest tighten. They’re still talking about music as Indrid returns to his desk and Duck goes to meet Minerva in the gym.

By the time Duck’s fight rolls around that weekend, Indrid is feeling much better. He has a system of sorting emails that works for him, some mothman stickers to help him organize the paper calendar on his desk, and more confidence in his ability to spot callers with ulterior motives. He’s shut down two separate ones looking to trap Duck into interviews where he’d be forced to defend his very identity. Duck overheard his responses to the second one and brought him back a fancy creme brulee latte from his breakfast as a thank you.

He doesn’t go to the fight; it’s a small one for charity and Duck has Ned to manage him, Minerva to train him, and Leo to coach him ringside. He doesn’t need his P.A. Instead, Indrid finishes up his correspondence for the day, makes sure Duck’s breakfast is all set in the fridge, and confirms the masseuse is coming in the morning.

Once in bed, Indrid gets sucked into the commission he’s doing and is lost to the world until a tired, satisfied face pokes through his door.

“Oh! Hello Duck. Did it go well? Do, ah, is there something you need from me?”

“Yep, I won like I thought I would. And nope; was just poppin in to say goodnight.”

No one’s said that to him in a long time. The bitterness of that realization is sweetened by Duck’s smile.

“Goodnight to you too, Duck.”

------------------------------------------

Minerva is sick, which wouldn’t be a problem except for one part of his workout. He could skip it, but he needs to keep everything sharp for when they go to L.A.

“‘Drid? You got a few minutes?”

His assistant appears in the doorway, black jeans and white “Cramps” tank-top fitting him in a way that makes Duck want to hold him face down on the floor and find out how to take his breath away.

“What do you need?”

Duck points to the heavy bag, “You up for bracin this while I hit it?”

“I...I am not as strong as Minerva.”

“You don’t gotta be; this is just to keep the damn thing from swinging while I’m doin this speed drill.”

“Alright.” Indrid takes off his glasses and sets them on the folding chair, joining Duck, “how do I hold it?”

Duck shows him, does a few test punches to make sure he won’t send the poor guy flying. The round clock dings green, and he’s off. The bag wobbles for the first few seconds, then Indrid seems to find his footing and holds it stable enough for the drill to work. When the round ends, Duck steps baack, “okay, you can let go until the next round.”

“Goodness.” Indrid stretches his hands, “I feel for your opponents. I’m jarred just from that.”

“You need to stop? I got two more rounds at least, but if it’s hurtin you I caan skip ‘em.”

Indrid shakes his head, smiling, “nono, I like helping you with this. It’s exhilarating.”

The bell dings.

“Glad to hear it. Now brace it again.”

By the end of round three, Indrid is panting loud enough for Duck to hear him over the fan. He looks up, glove still on the bag, and finds them face to face.

“Minerva said three to five rounds for this. You wanna keep goin?”

Indrid, breathless and grinning, nods, “Can’t have you slacking off, now can we?”

Duck wants to bite his lip, just to see what happens. Blames the thought on the adrenaline. Then discovers the exact same thought waiting for him when Indrid, cleaned and in his most respectable clothes, joins him in the car to go to an interview.

Ned gave the P.A a list of likely questions, so they practice those as they creep across the Bay Bridge. But Duck notices that on both the trip there and back, whenever there’s a lull in conversation Indrid is on his phone reading about boxing. Duck knows the other man fixates on topics that interest him; knowing one of Duck’s passions has earned that distinction makes him smile.

After that, he starts inviting Indrid to watch him train, or shares his thoughts about matches with him. That’s all it takes for Indrid to start drawing him into long, animated conversations about his sport. When Indrid asks why there’s such debate over the proper way to wrap hands and also how does Duck do his, Duck demonstrates.

“Here, ‘Drid, now you try it on me.”

The P.A moves the wraps slowly, deliberately, moving Duck’s hand like it’s a priceless treasure he’s readying for transport. Every time he bites his lip in concentration or brushes hair from his forehead, Duck has to remind himself to breathe.

“Done.” Indrid is still holding his left hand, “Did I do well?”

The boxer tests the wraps, wiggles his fingers and clenches his fists. Then he squeezes Indrid’s hand, “you did perfect, slim.”

Duck can wrap his hands in his sleep. But whenever he’s home, he finds Indrid and asks him to do the honors. Indrid does them every time. Perfectly.

---------------------------------------------

Indrid stands in the green room with Ned and a cluster of arena employees. The roaring crowd a few walls away echoes through the screen. He’s never seen Duck fight, but this event required all hands on deck to handle P.R, scheduling, and making sure Duck had what he needed to win.

Duck and his opponent enter the ring. Touch gloves.

Indrid’s pulse climbs.

Then the bell sounds and no useful noises come through the T.V. Just the announcers shouting and being drowned out by the crowd. Indrid gives up on parsing the cacophony, focus only on Duck. He’s seen him practice, but in a true match he’s a different beast. His opponent is faster, that much is clear, but Duck is patient, steady, blocks and weaves until he can land blows that make Indrid hurt just watching them.

Duck is magnificent like this. Indrid has to draw him like this, has to capture this and keep it forever, he has to, he has…

He has a hard-on in the middle of the green room.

He sticks it out long enough to see Duck win and then bolts to the bathroom so it can be taken care of by the time the boxer is done with the post-fight interviews.

They go out to celebrate, and Duck never nudges Indrid aside to let someone more important sit next to him. And as the drive to the hotel, he nods off with his head on Indrid’s shoulder.

It only gets worse after that.

Duck will coax him into joining him for a run with the promise of a fancy breakfast. On cheat days, Duck orders food to the house or takes Indrid out to lunch, and somehow the thing he wants when not focused on macros is always the thing Indrid mentioned he’d been craving. He invites Indrid on hikes with him, starts taking him to all his events even though he seldom needs help or herding at them (“yeah, but it’s nice to have someone to crack jokes with”). And on days when Indrid needs to be alone, or wants to see other friends, Duck simply smiles and closes the door.

The most dangerous days are the ones without anything on the schedule. Then it’s all too easy for Indrid to pretend that they’re something they’re not while he draws at the table across from where Duck is building his model ship. Too easy to imagine that the water-wise garden Duck tends is something he put into their house, not his house that Indrid happens to live in. Too easy to admit that Indrid wants to look after him for no payment except being looked after in return.

Duck reciprocating his feelings is within the realm of possibility. Indrid’s caught him staring when he walks in on the P.A doing yoga, and the casual touches long ago made the leap from accidental to deliberate. He also knows that Duck can’t fire him--only Ned can--and hopes that might lead to the boxer slinging him over his shoulder and tossing him on the bed one of these days.

There’s also the tabloid site circulating a photo of them with a caption claiming he’s Duck’s “boytoy” in spite of them only being two years apart. They’re not even sitting that close in the picture; Duck’s just smiling at him like he’s the only thing in the world, that’s all.

Currently, he’s having an easier time keeping his feelings buried because--ever since they landed in Vegas-- Duck has been a dick the rest of the day. Well, as much as a dick as he can be; his offenses are mainly snapping at people and lacking his usual patience.

When he scolds Indrid over something silly in the hotel that night, Indrid turns and stares at him over his glasses.

“Duck, what’s wrong?”

“Wh-uh, fuck, nothing, why do you, uh, fuck, I’m fine.”

“You just snapped at me in a way that was completely uncalled for.” He crosses his arms, “is it the fight? I know it’s a big one but that’s no reason to be rude.”

Duck scratches the back of his neck, “You’re gonna laugh at me.”

“I swear I won’t. Or, if I do, it will be after you leave.”

That gets a smile, “I’m uh, well, I’m what you’d call ‘horny as all fuckin get out.’”

Indrid’s immediate thoughts would solve the problem at hand while creating a new and far worse set, so he keeps them to himself and replies, “If need privacy, I can come back later and hold all your calls.”

“Nah.” Duck sits on the bed, “You’re not supposed to get off before a fight. Makes you too relaxed.”

“That strikes me as an old wives tale. Old boxers tale?”

“Either way, it’s one Minerva still believes. If I lose, she will ask about every possible cause, includin that one. Better if I just cat nap before I start all my pre-match stuff. Come get me in fort minutes?”

“Of course.” Indrid waves and closes the door before he offers to lay down in the hopes of Duck having a wet dream while holding him.

--------------------------------------------------------

Duck wins, though it’s a tough battle to get there. He fucking hates these Pay-Per-View fights, they try to make it sound like he’s got beef with the other guy. In reality, once he’s down from a knockout, Duck is the one who helps him to the other side of the ring.

There’s a flurry of press afterwards, of questions and congratulations while all he wants to do is shower. He gets clean, promises Ned they can all go out to celebrate later. As he and Indrid finally escape to his suite he’s forced to admit that--if the thoughts of hitting the “fire” button and fucking Indrid against the wall are any indication--his problem from earlier hasn’t gone away.

“Do you need me to see if I can get a masseuse up here? You look very stiff.”

“Just uh, just tense.” Why did he tell Indrid he liked those jeans on him? He’s worn them as often as he can since.

Indrid cocks an eyebrow, “Still pent up even though the fighting is done?”

“Yep.”

The P.A shakes his head, hiding a smirk, “Do you need me to find something for you to watch?”

“No.”

“I mean it, this place has all the good channels.” He’s so earnest, picking up the channel guide like it, rather than those fucking jeans and shirt with Duck’s name on it, has what Duck needs.

“No.” He growls.

Indrid sighs, sets the book back down, “This mood is annoying us both, so just tell me what kind of porn you want and I can go out and buy it.”

“Unless they got somethin called ‘boxer jackhammers skinny artist until he cries’ we’re gonna be shit out of luck!”

The P.A blinks, “Duck, this is Vegas, I can probably find that. Or look for it on your laptop…” he trails off when their eyes meet. Duck knows he must look like he’s ready to jump him. Indrid licks his lips, “Duck? What, ah, what exactly lead to this situation?”

“You really wanna know, slim?” Duck steps across the carpet, notices Indrid padding over the black and blue patterns to meet him.

“Yes.”

Duck removes Indrid’s glasses, “Had a dream about you while I was on the plane. Woke up havin just finished fuckin you open. First thing I thought was “no big deal, ‘Drid’s right here. We can do the real thing once we get to the hotel.’ Then I fuckin remembered that we couldn’t, and I know for damn sure that if I jerk off I won’t feel satisfied because you’re be over there” he jabs his thumb at the door connecting their rooms, “so close and completely outta my reach.”

“So keep me right here instead.” Indrid purrs, fingers tentatively finding Duck’s hips. The light contact splinters his self-control and he practically tackles Indrid onto the bed, kissing him as the taller man moans and paws at his clothes.

The kiss takes the heat off enough to clear the steam fogging up his head and sits up, “This really okay?”

“I would have said if it wasn’t now for goodness sake please get back down here.” Indrid yanks him forward by the front of his shirt, smashing their lips together. He’s humming and sighing every time Duck touches him, rolling his hips to display a quickly forming hard-on.

“Aw, sugar, you gettin excited just from kissin’?” Duck grinds down just to see him gasp.

“Y-yes. I, Duck, I’ve wanted this for months.”

The implication of those words slam his desire into overdrive, “You sneaky little thing, that why you kept runnin around in tight clothes?”

“Most of my clothes h-hang off me.” Indrid holds tight to Duck’s thighs as the boxer strips his shirt off, “but yes I, I did start wearing what you liked more often.”

“Ain’t that thoughtful. And what were you hoping would happen, slim?” Duck yanks his sweats off and kicks them to the floor.

“This.” Indrid’s eyes keep slipping down to stare at Duck’s dick.

The boxer strokes himself lazily, “like what you see?”

“So much.”

“Then how about a closer look, sugar?” He crawls up Indrid’s body to straddle his face. It looks even better than normal framed by his thighs.

“Do I get to touch too?”

Duck guides his hands onto his ass, “As much as you want. You gonna be sweet and let me fuck your face, or am I gonna have to hold your mouth open?”

Indrid opens his mouth instantly, a whimper creeping out of it as Duck strokes his hair. The sound morphs into a louder, but muffled, moan when Duck sinks down. He teases his dick against Indrid’s lips, drags slick across his chin, feels his jaw tremble with wanting to close. Duck shifts so his dick touches Indrid’s tongue, “get to it. Oh fuck” he braces a hand on the wall, “heh, didn’t know Ned screened for cocksuckin skills.”

Indrid shakes his head, brown eyes wide as Duck roughly rides his face.

“No? He didn’t make you demonstrate on some of the other fighters? Didn’t make sure you could make a whole gym cum to prove your mouth was good enough for me?”

“‘O” Indrid shakes his head again, silver strands sticking to the pillow as he kneads Duck’s ass in a way that makes him groan.

“Too bad for them. Because now they ain’t ever gonna get a chance.”

A whimper and write of the torso; Duck glances over his shoulder to watch Indrid buck his hips in the air, pre-cum clear on his crotch. His feet, still in their shoes, point and flex as he moans around Duck’s dick.

“You like that, don’t you sugar?” He threads both hands into Indrid’s hair, pinning his head down or pulling it closer as it suits him, all the while gently rubbing his scalp “like knowin’ that you’re doin well.”

A harder suck in reply.

“Then be a good little cocksucker and make me cum.” He holds his head down and let’s loose, grinding and grunting in pursuit of the heat that starts at Indrid’s tongue and is steadily curling up into Duck’s belly. The other man holds him tight, moaning and licknig and sucking until Duck cums on his mouth, the lasts bursts of it happening against a slackening jaw.

As soon as his legs cooperate, he climbs off and guides Indrid to sit up in his arms. His attempt to check on the other man is interrupted by a frantic kiss.

“I was gonna ask if you wanna keep goin’, but I think I got my answer.”

“Yes, I mean no, I mean please don’t stop yet. Please I, we can do whatever you like, we can do just this, you can drag me out on the balcony and fuck me in full view of the city-”

“Easy, slim, easy.” Duck cups his cheek, “let’s start with somethin simple. Get naked and get comfy on your back for me. I gotta go grab somethin from down the hall.”

His memory turns out to be spot on; the vending machine on this floor has toiletries, including condoms and a travel bottle of lube. He buys ten of one and three of the other, drops them in the pockets of his robe and hurries back to Indrid. Sprawled on the bed, he looks painfully vulnerable, like someone who got used to life kicking him and telling him to stay down.

It’ll be different when they’re together, Duck can promise that much.

“Seem to recall you wanting me to keep you here.” He grabs a handwrap, holds it where Indrid can see, “how do you feel about me usin this?”

“Extremely good. Oh, oh hello.” He laughs when Duck rolls down beside him to pepper his face with kisses. The process of trapping his hands to the headboard is prolonged thanks to their mutual need to keep kissing every five seconds.

“Now” Duck kisses his shoulder, “I didn’t bring any toys to fuck you with, so it’s just gonna be my hand.”

“You say that as if it’s a disappointment to me and not incredibly sexy.”

“Some folks don’t think you’re fuckin ‘em unless you use somethin dick-shaped.” Duck shrugs with a flicker of sadness from the last time he had that conversation.

“Tell me who insulted your body or your skills in bed and I shall stand outside their window with a megaphone informing them of how terrible their manners are and how they missed out on the finest man in the world.”

“That’d be funny” Duck leisurely kisses his belly and hips before sitting up, “but you’d have to get outta bed.”

“True. Ah well, a sternly worded email will have do OOOh, oohhhyes.” He wiggles his hips as Duck presses in the first finger, relaxing under his touch.

“Get the feelin you’ve done this before”

“Yes.” Indrid’s chest is flushed and Duck reaches up his free hand to play with his nipples.

“What’s the most you’ve taken?”

“Th-three, I believe. I, ah, I’m usually facing away so I sometimes lose track.”

“You're takin four tonight. Can’t believe anyone would wanna miss out on how you look when you’re getting fucked.” He teases the second finger to prove his point and Indrid’s mouth curves with bliss.

“My ass is many people’s type; my face not so much.”

“Fuck that.” Duck pushes the second finger in. Indrid arches, then sighs as Duck keeps working him open.

“I find it difficult to care what they thought right now. I, ahhhn, it’s much more fun to think about you.”

“About me…?”

“About right you’re doing right now and, AH, what we can do next. I do so want to sit in your lap in the hot tub back home.”

“Can manage that. What else?”

“I’d very much l-like to fuck you, however you’ll let me and, and I want us to do it right after you train some day, you look so good like thatAHgod.” The third finger is in and Indrid is now steadily pushing down on them, “and one of the times you get me to run with you I expect a blow job in reward oh, ohfuck” his eyes are wild and eager, “please do the last one, I’m ready, I want it so badly, please.”

Duck begins teasing the fourth finger, “Think all those wants of yours sound real good. You wanna know mine?”

“Absolutely. AHaahnnnahgod” The wrap tightens as Indrid clings to it, trying to stabilize himself as Duck fucks his hand into him hard.

“Soon as we get home, I’m gettin the strap-on and fuckin you for a solid hour at least. Gonna leave you so fuckin raw and relaxed you won’t wanna do anything but lay there, and you’ll goddamn get to because you’re mine and I’m gonna take care of you.”

“Duck” it’s a happy sob, Indrid’s cock bobbing in the air.

“Gonna take a trip somewhere private, just the two of us, and you’re gonna spend the whole fuckin time tied up, to the bed, a chair, whatever the fuck else I feel like so I can ride your dick whenever I want.”

“Yes.” Indrid is barely getting out words between his cries.

“And the next time you have the fuckin nerve to wear tight jeans the day I gotta fight, I’m gonna shove a vibration plug up that cute little ass and lock your cock in a cage so we can both be horny without bein able to get off.”

“Duck please, I’m close, please touch-”

He wraps his fingers around Indrid’s dick and works him over hard and fast, “Soon as I’m done with that fight, you’re gonna blow me in the locker room so I can focus on nailin your ass into next week when we get--ohfuck!” Cum hits his chin as Indrid gasps and squeaks, scratching at the wraps and the headboard.

If Duck ever loses his memory, he hopes this is the last moment to go; Indrid Cold, happy, safe, and satisfied while he moans Duck’s name.

Indrid is boneless as Duck undoes the bonds, though he rallies enough to pull the boxer into a hug so he can cuddle him like a teddy bear. He kisses his throat, feels his pulse even out beneath his lips.

“Duck? Does, ah, does this mean what I think it does?”

The phone rings right as he’s about to answer. It’s probably Ned, so he holds up a finger and grabs the receiver.

“Go for Duck. Yeah, yeah that’ll be fine” he nods as Ned explains the plan for their exclusive, late night dinner, “yeah, tell ‘em five; you, Minerva, Leo, me and” he winks at a beaming Indrid, “my boyfriend.”

#indruck #indrid cold/ duck newton #trans duck newton #reader request #meet ugly #boxer au

[miraculous786]

She’s Not Dead

All Miraculous Ladybug Works

Backstory

"How old did you say they were again?" Superman questioned.

Green Lantern carded through his memories for a moment. "The girl is, I'm pretty sure, 16, and the boy is 17."

"They're that young?" Flash asked, letting out a slow breath. "Dang, they're probably gonna need some therapy in the future."

Bruce Wayne nodded in agreement, before reminding, "We need to deal with Gabriel Agreste first."

"Yes, he is the top priority," Diana agreed, stepping in front of the League members situated around the room. "He not only used magic designated for good to terrorise a whole city, but he attempted to rope in his own son with the scheme. That will have some everlasting consequences, no doubt."

Wonder Woman shook her head, along with some of the team, in disbelief. It wasn't every day a person turned their own child evil for their own gain.

There was silence for a few seconds, excluding Martian Manhunter's typing at a keyboard in the background.

"Are those gods okay?"

"Those gods are named Tikki and Plagg," Diana corrected, sending a small glare to Green Arrow that commanded more respect. "But yes, they are doing well. Tikki is merely resting after having to use so much of her Creation magic to fix all of the damage in Paris yesterday."

"That reminds me," Superman piped up with. "Has the worker that ignored the situation been fired?"

"Yes. He's currently facing major punishment for going against League guidelines and being partly responsible for the length of Hawk Moth's reign," Bruce responded.

"Three years, can you believe that? A whole city had to deal with suppressing their emotions for that long," Barry Allen stressed. "No wonder the heroes broke under the pressure."

Aquaman, who had been twirling around his trident, spoke up. "That Lila girl will be arrested too, right? Along with Gabriel Agreste's assistant?"

"Nathalie Sancoeur used the Peacock pin to help Hawk Moth, so she will be facing similar charges to him. That Lila girl, however," Wonder Woman replied, a dark look taking over her features. "She both harassed and sexually abused Adrien Agreste, and bullied the current wielder of the Ladybug earrings... Let us just say that the prosecutors in court won't be the ones to declare her fate."

The Justice League wisely chose not to argue against the warrior's words.

To the side of the room, a screen was set, showing footage from another area in the Watchtower. There, two teens lay on separate beds, that had kwami snuggled together between them on a nightstand.

One of the teenagers, a female, had her hair spread out on her pillow, with the strands appearing a midnight black from the minimal light of the stars outside. Bandages were carefully wrapped around her hands, encasing the palms so as to stop the bleeding that had previously been occurring.

The other person, a male, slept in the foetus position, whilst tightly gripping onto a silver ring around one of his fingers. His blonde hair was dishevelled, set in a lazy style that matched his black sweater and grey joggers.

Batman caught sight of the TV nearby, suddenly noticing the children also occupying the Watchtower. Dark bags lined their closed eyes, and expressions of discomfort were visible on their faces.

They were having nightmares.

Bruce let out an inaudible sigh, moving to turn to the Justice League. However, his observant eyes caught onto something dreadfully still in the corner of the screen right before he could.

"...Uhh, guys? Where did Batman go?"

Flash's questions caused a stir of confusion to crash over the team, as they scanned about for Bruce's suited figure. After a few seconds, they gave up, all glancing to Superman for a possible answer. That was when Martian Manhunter decided to enlighten them with it.

"Batman is with Chat Noir and Ladybug."

~*~*~

"Diana!"

Said female ran into the room at the call.

"Yes? What is it?"

"I, I think she's dead."

"W-What?"

Wonder Woman took a glance at Marinette, who was curled up in a ball between the bed's thin sheets, and the heart monitor at the side. Despite the fact that it showed no heartbeat, her chest was rising steadily at a slow pace.

The tips of her fingers, not covered in bandages, were a slight shade of blue. Her lips were also the same tinge.

"She's not, I assure you."

"Are you sure, Diana? Because her breathing is significantly slow and she's hardly moving," Superman asked, raising a worried brow.

"It's a side-effect of the miraculous," she explained. "When one has a true soul that is formed from one of the kwamis, they take on tendencies of the animal they represent. It just so happens that Marinette here has the traits of a ladybug."

A caring smile spread across her face, aimed at the sleeping girl.

"Wait...so she's just- hibernating?"

"Yes, Hal. That would be correct."

"Well, we better get some warmer blankets to wake her up again. Goodness, it is actually really cold in here," Green Arrow advised, shivering in his costume.

"That is not necessary, I assure you."

Wonder Woman strolled up to Marinette, scooping her up gently, as she then made her way to Adrien's bed. The League could only watch in utter bewilderment whilst she placed the girl by his side and pulled the covers over them.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Are you sure you wanna do that?"

The team collectively stared at Clark.

He blushed, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "I-I mean, they're two teens, alone, and they might ki-"

"Hush!"

At that, Superman furrowed his brow, looking to the Flash.

The scarlet speedster was gazing intently at the couple laying down.

When Marinette was set down, she shuffled, squirming slightly, before curling back up impossibly tight. However, the boy beside her felt the disturbance, and let out a quiet whine from the back of his throat.

Adrien stretched, yawning, before reaching his arms out a short distance. He froze for a moment - his eyes showing he was still in deep slumber. Then, he all of a sudden pulled his partner to his chest, and she almost reflexively snuggled closer.

Marinette's face lost its discomfort, instead being replaced by a small smile, as was Adrien's. His body vibrated, letting out a loud purr that could be heard from all four corners of the room as he smothered and curled up around her form.

"Aaaaawww..." several of the adults awed.

The hush of the place was broken by Bruce.

"I think we should leave them to sleep."

"Oh gosh, I see that smile on your face, Bats. Don't go adopting them too."

"What? I am not sm-"

"Flash isn't wrong. I saw that too."

"Well, Batman," Diana huffed. "You won't be adopting any of them. They are both like siblings to me, and I shall treat them as such."

Bruce's eyes narrowed in challenge.

~*~*~

Hope you enjoyed it!

This was a very random one-shot that I really wanted to write out for some reason.

And thank you so much @thyladyanput​ for proof reading this! :D

#maribat #adribat #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #ml x dc #ml salt #lila salt #gabriel salt #Lila exposed

[beasback]

What We Deserve Chapter 2

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Word count: 836

Warnings: Angry Dean

Dean could hear the pair outside the motel as Sam put the room key in the door. Scanning the room for a cover, Dean quickly threw a pillow over his lap as the door opened.

“Hey,” Dean croaked, clearing his throat before trying again. “Hey.”

Sam mimicked Dean, clearing his own throat nodding awkwardly on his way to the bathroom. Y/N stood in the doorway drinking in the image of Dean sprawled out on the bed. Presentation did him good. Not that he wasn’t attractive before but fuck. Snapping out of your trance you cautiously stepped in the small room. The door shut behind you making you jump further into the room.

“Sam said-”

“I’m fine.” Dean muttered, clutching the pillow closer to him. The movement drew your eyes to it like a moth to a flame. You smirked dropping your book bag by the door.

“Whatcha’ got there?” You questioned as you sauntered to the edge of his bed, carefully running your fingers along the ridged tips of a few sheets of paper.

Dean glared at you, “Nothi-”

You pulled the pages from beneath the pillow jumping out of Dean’s reach. Inspecting the cover your eyes widened.

“Vonnegut?”

A low growl snapped your head in Dean’s direction.

“Give it back Y/L/N.”

You rolled your eyes, tossing the book in his lap.

“Work or pleasure?” You collapsed back on Sam's bed facing Dean.

Dean narrowed his eyes safely tucking Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse-Five away in his duffel bag. “What’s it matter?”

You sat up leaning forward. “Well, I’ve tried reading it and couldn’t understand it without the aid of my teacher. Not many people do. You have to be pretty smart to understand that kind of thing if you’re reading it for fun. I wonder if Sam-”

“Don’t” Dean growled out.

Typical. You call the guy smart and he doesn’t want Sam to know. Of course Dean was reading for pleasure. The man rarely did any schoolwork.

“Don’t worry, I won't tell Sam you’re not as badass as you think you are.”

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” Dean teased laying back on his bed ignoring you.

He may have grown physically but he was still the same childish 16 year old you met 2 years ago.

“Bite me Dean.”

As soon as you said it you regretted it. In the blink of an eye you were met with his green orbs. It didn’t last long though, his eyes began to roam your body making you blush. What were you thinking telling a newly presented alpha to bite you?

The tug on your sweater to cover your body pulled Dean out of his trance. He knew you were just as uncomfortable as you had made him.. 

“Sorry sweetheart, you’re not exactly my type.” He smirked facing the bathroom door where Sam appeared.

That jerk. He actually smirked. Of course you were his type! Dean wasn’t exactly picky. But he’s no longer Dean, he’s an alpha and you were a beta.

“Are you bleeding?” Dean snapped. His nostrils flaring as he breathed in deeply.

Sam shrugged, coming to sit beside you on his bed. “I was. Dirk pushed Barry. I stepped in and he pushed me. I scraped my hands, nothing major. Y/N jumped in and saved the day.”

“Sam helped.” Y/N beamed.

Dean growled deeper than you had heard him growl when you found the book. You were terrified but one glance to Sam showed you he was unfazed.

“That kid’s Dead.”

Sam rolled his eyes, “Dean.”

“I'm gonna rip his lungs out!” Dean jumped up clenching his fists.

“It's not a big deal.” Sam mumbled.

Using his long legs, Dean took a forward towering over Sam, “Not a big deal? Sammy, look at yourself. If Dad was here-”

“He's not.” Sam dared to look into Dean’s eyes.

Dean clenched his jaw. He knew John wasn’t here, he rarely was. He didn’t need to be reminded of his. Sam was his responsibility and since he presented he hasn’t been able to watch after Sam.

“Well, I am! And as soon I'm finished with that dick-”

“Shut up, okay?!” Sam jumped off the bed glaring up at Dean. “I don't need your help.” 

You flinched at the sight, suddenly feeling like you were intruding. Sam never lashed out, especially not at Dean.

Dean crossed his arms across his chest huffing, “That's right, you don't. You could have torn him apart. So why didn't you?”

Sam sighed, “Because I don't want to be the freak for once, Dean. I want to be normal.”

“So taking a beating - that's normal?” Dean pressed.

Sam peeked over his shoulder back at you clutching your legs to your chest.

“I didn’t. Y/N was there.”

Dean followed Sam’s gaze to your terrified form and sighed.

“Sorry Y/N/N, I’m not used to being an alpha.” Dean pinched the bridge of his nose sitting back down on his mattress. “I just suddenly have all of this rage.”

Chapter 3

#alpha!dean x omega!reader #alpha!dean #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #alpha!sam #sam winchester

[tyunniverse]

TXT x DISNEY Halloween Shorts 🎃 (4/5)

pairing: ot5 x reader

genre: fluff, crack, college au

warnings: light swearing

synopsis: there's a halloween event at your uni and a few students are in the mood for misfit.

yeonjun | soobin | beomgyu | taehyun | hueningkai

TAEHYUN | Sleeping Beauty (2.5k)

The sky had turned dark, not a single star in sight, covered by ominous looking clouds that helped set the atmosphere for tonight's grandeur. Sunset came about an hour ago. Everyone was scattered around enjoying the festivities, trying out different booths and events that were held by the different departments. But Taehyun wanted none of that.

The bags under his eyes and the ever present frown on his face made it obvious enough. He'd been working his ass off for days for their department's event— delegating tasks, going back and forth for supplies, decorating their venue, advertising, assisting a few students with their script— Taehyun could go on and on. He looks up at the venue from where he sat, frowning as he reads the sign he made and put up at the entrance: FRIGHT MANSION. He wasn't too fond of the name but everyone else thought otherwise.

The walls of the building had aged with time, sporting numerous cracks and holes. Amateur graffiti lined the entrance up until the doors that were previously barred shut. Taehyun figured there was probably more at the back but didn't care much to actually check. Moss and overgrown weed poked out of the ground, adding to the dilapidated building's charm. The place had a reputation of being haunted but Taehyun never believed in that, but it did turn out to be quite the efficient marketing scheme, drawing in daring students like moths to a flame. He'd wondered whose brilliant idea it was to get permission to use the old Nursing Department building. Oh, right. It was his.

The old wooden bench creaks as Taehyun lies down, propping his head up his backpack that he'd turn into a makeshift pillow. The leaves above his head sway with the breeze. The rustling of the trees made the chattering and screams from the inside almost inaudible. Almost.

Taehyun made full use of the bench that's situated farthest from the venue, taking the time to get some well-deserved shuteye before someone comes and ruins his beauty sleep over something stupid like someone's costume catching fire. The thought rings in his mind, the likelihood of that scenario was far too plausible for his liking. His eyes flutter shut, shuffling from side to side to find a better sleeping position before settling on the one he first had earlier.

A strong breeze sneaks up on Taehyun, making him wrap his arms around himself as he shivered. He recalls fumbling to wear anything he got his hands on before rushing back to school. A little thought would've been nice while putting on his outfit, by then he would've settled on a few layers of clothing rather than a simple loose sweater. Another blow of a breeze makes him frown.

No matter. He's slept under worse conditions.

"Sure is cold tonight, huh." You say, adjusting the box of glitter containers in your hands as you rush to catch up with your friend, Yugyeom, who was carrying less than you were. You curse the difference in length between your legs and his— Yugyeom's being longer than yours, allowing him to take larger steps. It didn't help that he was a fast walker too.

"Yup, sure is." He says, sparing you a glance. "Which is why we should hurry this up. I don't want to get scolded twice for being late with the delivery because of your tiny legs." And with a snort, he speeds up. You roll your eyes.

The crunching sound of dead leaves beneath your feet alerts the two of you that you're nearing the old Nursing Department building. A cool breeze rolls in, somehow cooler now that you were in an area with lots of trees. You've been here before, once, with Yugyeom. It was for a stupid college party dare he'd made with his friends, and he forced you to come with.

The two of you pass the wide opening, the path towards the building showing up in your peripheral vision. From where you were, you could see the brught graffiti plastered around the walls. A quick scan and you spot the one Yugyeom had made for the dare— a simple sign saying: GYEOM WAS HERE, huge enough for his friends to spot from afar the next day to see if he really did it.

You chuckle, remembering how dumb he looked when he accidentally sprayed some paint over his shirt. "Hey, Yugyeom, remember when—" A stronger breeze blows by before you could finish, whipping your hair in front of your eyes. This wouldn't have been a problem if your hands were free to remove the obstacle from your face.

"Shit." You curse under your breath when you stumble against something hard. You feel a little light-headed as your feet move to regain your balance, unfortunately the attempt doesn't do much for you as the contents of the box spills, the containers of glitter rolling away from you faster than you could catch up to Yugyeom. Speaking of your friend.

"Yugyeom, wait!" You let the empty box fall, your hands rushing up to brush the hair out of your face as you whipped around. The familiar clown outfit you'd been following since the beginning of the night was long gone. You almost felt a little betrayed if you hadn't remembered how he got chewed out the last time he was late because of you. "You're not even gonna help me pick these up?!" You yell, hands slowly rubbing against each other to combat the cold wind. As you expected, you're greeted with silence. Well, almost silence. You jump as you hear a blood-curdling scream coming from inside the building, your balled fists immediately shooting up in self defense. Not like it mattered. Punching a ghost in the face didn't seem possible in the first place.

The rustling trees greet you as you slowly flutter your eyes open, taking the time to adjust to the darkness before you can start to make out the form of the building, and on the second floor, light. You breathe a sigh of relief, a smile forming on your face as you remembered that there was a Haunted house event going on right here and now. Definitely made the place seem a lot less creepy, you thought.

A few sparkling dusts in the air catches your attention and you're immediately brought back to reality— the harsh reality of you getting yelled at by a fuming Jinyoung when he finds out that half of the glitter he had you buy was now spread all over the mossy landscape of an abandoned building rather than the cute little treat shop your class had worked hard to build. Yeah, good luck to you.

You feel the grass prick against your knees as you bent down to pick up the containers that still had most of their glitter on, taking two trips from where they spilled to the box that you'd left behind at the opening. There was no way you'd start carrying that thing around while you cleaned up. If any of the glitter spills again, you wouldn't know what to do. Well, you would, but it would be too much of a hassle to clean up after yourself all over again.

Lastly, you settle for the piles of glitter scattered around the area. Some were spread around in bundles, some were tedious to scoop up since they were scattered too far apart, and some were sticking to the moss and mud, to which you've decided to leave alone. You've never had a good relationship with moss and you tried your best to keep your hands and feet away from it as much as possible. Just the thought of feeling the nasty thing with your own hands had your skin crawl. So that's that, no touching glitter covered moss for tonight.

You continue your endeavors, following the sparkling trail until it led you to one if the benches. Specifically, the person lying down on the said bench. Even more specific, that person's face— his face that's covered with a pile glitter.

Another breeze comes swooping in and hold your hands close together. Your eyes widen when the pile of glitter that was resting comfortably on his cheek was now spread throughout his face. At this point, trying to get the glitter back wasn't even an option. You frown, crouching down to take a closer look at your poor accidental victim.

His hair was sticking out on different angles, his lips dry from the cold, his outfit loose and thin, completely inappropriate for the weather and arguably the spirit of Halloween. You couldn't help but compare your matching clown costume with Yugyeom to this guy's sorry excuse of a Halloween getup. But upon closer inspection, you recognize who this was.

You didn't know his name, just that he was the one in charge of the Haunted house event going on behind you. You'd run into him a couple of times while purchasing supplies downtown. He looked even more tired after each encounter. Looking at his peaceful resting face and how underdressed he was, you figured he must've reached his limit. He was tired, understandably so, and you just spilled glitter over his face. He wasn't going to be happy when he wakes up and gets some of this stuff in his eyes.

Another gust of wind blows past you and an idea sparks in your head. "Just gotta be careful."

There's a tingling sensation on Taehyun's face and it's certainly not welcome. For one, it broke his beauty nap. And two, there is no number two— irritation taking over his mind as he finds himself shifting his full focus on number one. At first, he decides to ignore it, trying to go back to sleep despite the uncomfortable feeling on his face. But then he notices something strange.

He tries his best to stay still, refusing to move and open his eyes. He realizes that the tingling sensation was quite similar to the breeze that kept passing by, except that it's smaller and somehow warm? He couldn't really explain. He just knows that it's uncomfortable and roaming all over his face. And that's when it hits him.

This place was rumored to be haunted.

Goosebumps spread all over his body. The sensation almost felt like there's someone breathing on his face. No, not breathing. Something stronger. The thought alone was enough for Taehyun's eyes to shoot open, quickly prompting him to get up until halfway, his lips brush against something soft and warm.

"HOLY SHIT." was the first thing he heard after being pushed back down on the bench.

His body stiffens, completely stunned. And he wasn't the only one. In front of him was a complete stranger in an unflattering clown suit, staring back at him with equal shock and terror as their hands cupped their mouth. Taehyun isn't quite sure, but he swore he saw a pink blush spread across your cheeks.

He eyes how your hands are still covering half of your face, slightly shaking. A breeze passes by, seemingly reminding you two that it was the main villain for tonight. Taehyun shivers in the cold and is then briefly reminded of the sensation earlier, a warm blowing. "You," He looks up at you, a concerned look on his face. "Why are you here? What were you doing to me earlier?"

"GLITTER." You scramble to your knees, trying to gather any left over glitter from before to show as proof. Managing to get a few, you quickly hold it up to his face. "I— well, you see. Glitter. Yes, glitter." You wanted to slap yourself for failing to be coherent during the time you needed it most. "I accidentally spilled glitter all over the place and some happened to land on your face so, yeah, I don't really know why I even did it in the first place but yeah.. I started blowing on your face to get the glitter off and— oh!" You grin once you realized that his face was now glitter free, well, except for his lips. "Looks like it worked out fine anyway."

Taehyun couldn't help but look at you as if you were crazy. Here you were dressed up as a clown and reacting to your own explanation. He sighs, the bench creaking when he moves to sit up properly. "So, you were behind that weird sensation on my face earlier?"

"Weird sensation?" Your brows raise. "Oh, the blowing? Pretty much, yeah."

"And the soft feeling.." Taehyun stops himself after piecing things together. His hand shoots up to his lips on instinct, his cheeks flushed as he watched you slowly stand up. "Did we?"

"Yeah."

"When I—"

"When you tried getting up."

The leaves rustle and one falls off its branch and lands straight on Taehyun's head. He brushes it off. "Sorry for that."

"No, no! I should be the one saying sorry. I accidentally spilled glitter all over you and even ruined your sleep. Your reaction was totally normal and it just happened coincidentally."

Taehyun could only nod. He had to admit, his mind wasn't 100% present at the moment but he could at least process what had just happened. He looks down, noticing the containers of glitter by your side. "Do you still need help?"

"With that?"

"Gathering the glitter."

"Oh, no. I'm actually done."

"Well, then what d—"

"Taehyun!"

Both of your attention shifts towards one of the windows on the second floor. There, a group of students were frantically waiving at Taehyun. He could sense it. The panic in their movements, how some of the staff were running around aimlessly in the hallway— he'd predicted it all earlier. He just thought nobody was careless enough to actually set their costume on fire in a venue that's only filled with fake candles, but they keep proving him wrong.

"I think they need you." You say, feeling sorry that he had to go back to his duties after everything that went on.

"More than I need them." Taehyun sighs, getting up from his seat. He doesn't bother to pack up his belongings, merely stretching out his body before turning back to you. He notices your eyes on his bag and he reassures you that no one's going to want to approach a shady looking bag in front of a creepy building at night. At least, not while he's around.

"Sorry again." You say as he slowly made his way to the building. "I'll make it up to you somehow."

Taehyun pauses. "What's the glitter for?"

"Oh, it's for our Halloween treat shop."

You blink as Taehyun turns to face you. You half expected him to smile or something, but he only continued to look at you with the same tired eyes from earlier. "If you want to make it up to me for ruining my sleep, then wait for me here."

"Huh?"

"We'll go to your little shop together once I'm done." He says, now smiling. "And you're going to treat me to everything I want."

#txt imagines #txt x reader #taehyun x reader #txt fanfic #taehyun imagines #taehyun imagine #taehyun fluff #slight got7 cameo #txt fluff #txt scenarios

[radioactiveheaven]

songs y'all should hear

achilles come down - gang of youths

your sister was right - wilbur

saline solution - wilbur

losing face - wilbur

jubilee line - wilbur

distroy u - luna moth

sweater - phem

who's gonna save you now - rina sawayama

pale beneath the tan - the front bottoms

curses - the crane wives

the music or the misery - fall out boy

gaslight - WILLOW

7 o'clock - penelope scott

cough it out - the front bottoms

grand finale - the front bottoms

DIE4u - bring me the horizon

FWTB - yonaka

monster - pvris

lights out - mindless self indulgence

.smoke rings. - frnkieroo and the cellabration

comfortable liar - chevele

flux - poppy

her - poppy

the devil in i - slipknot

army of the night - amaranthe (cover of powerwolf)

my all-time favorite songs

flowers (on my grave) - lovelytheband

body - mother mother

i miss having sex but at least i don't wanna die - waterparks

dog days are over - florence and the machine

line without a hook - ricky montgomery

[artnerd1123]

A Familiar World

Threadbare ——————————————-

Some material isn’t made to last long under stress. Unfortunately, you don’t get to choose when it breaks. A lesson those who work with fabric ought to know well. Evangel may be a tailor, but she underestimated how much her familiar could take. Things get more than a little out of hand when seraph has a... rough morning. 

The masterpost for AFW can be found here. The chapter post for AFW can be found here.

——————————————-

yea i don’t have too much to say abt this one, other than hehe hoho character development and feral form shenanigans. there’s not too much body horror going on, but there is a bit of eye horror, so keep that in mind! 

The sky was covered in a thick smog of gray that morning. The cool air of the coming winter had been steadily pushing the clouds’ bleak mask over the usual soft blue. The cliffs, for the first time since spring, had fallen silent. The cobblestone streets were chilly, the breezes biting anyone who ventured out. The whole town was just… quiet. Colorless. Still. A sluggish, hazy dormancy. Not an atmosphere that many enjoyed. … really, it was the cold that bothered Seraph the most. She’d rolled out of bed soon after her mama, tiredness and gravity tugging at her eyelids. The ache of last week’s mistakes and endless errands had coiled itself into a knot in her chest. It felt brittle in the chilly air. Her wings wrapped tiredly around her form. It wasn’t much, but it trapped a little warmth. Tiny chirps of discomfort accompanied her footsteps. The floor felt like ice. But mama needed her to be up. So she was up. The little familiar staggered over to a tiny box of her clothes. A quick rummage around produced a pair of thick socks, a moth eaten sweater, a pair of leggings, and a scrap of fleece for a blanket. It wasn’t a lot. But. Mama hadn’t finished her winter line of clothes yet. She’d promised her a whole new drawer full, and she’d seen the pictures. They all looked lovely. Mama even let her pick the new fabric out. Mama will get to it, she reminded herself, tugging her sweater over her head. She’s been very busy with the shop and minding me, its ok. I’ll be ok. That’s what she hoped, anyway. She’d been so… tired. Seraph wandered into the kitchen when she finished getting dressed. Mama was already sitting at the table, picking forlornly at a bowl of cereal. The sight dropped Seraph’s comfort lower. Mama was sad? Why? What happened? Was mama still mad at her for for being out too long again? Or for forgetting things she’d told her? She felt like she was doing that a lot lately. Or was Mama just... unhappy? Seraph… no, seraph couldn’t have that. Not first thing in the morning. She- she’d fix it. Seraph cleared her throat to announce her appearance. Evangel glanced up at the sound, but nothing changed in her gaze. Her eyes slipped back to her cereal a moment later. Seraph decided to try again. “Morning mama,” she twittered, doing her best to smile and stand up straight. “How are you doing?” Evangel heaved a long sigh, leaning back in her chair. “Awful, doll,” She huffed, “simply awful. I slept like a serf with bedbugs. Yesterday was an ordeal and a half...” “O-oh… I’m sorry, mama,” Seraph replied softly. Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she walked over to Evangel’s chair. She set her hoof on Evangel’s free hand. She had to fix this. “Can… can I do anything…?” “Yes, doll, you can,” Evangel sighed. She took her hand away from Seraph’s hoof, waving absently towards the stairs. “I need you to go check stock.” Seraph felt her shoulders relax a bit. Stock. Yes, she could do that. She could easily do that. And mama would be happy after that, and so she wouldn’t have to worry, and she could get rid of the growing knot in her chest. She’d be a good familiar, she would.   “Right away, mama!” She chirped, turning to go. “Oh, doll, wait. That’s not all,” Evangel broke in. Seraph paused. Another errand? After… after everything she’d been doing these past few days…? “... y… yeah…? What else do you need, mama…?” She asked nervously. “You’ll have to buy some new winter fabrics for me at the market today, and pick up some new cereal. This oat filth is awful,” Evangel huffed. “And you need to go get us some new frozen meals while you’re at it. Everything spoiled again because you left it out too long.” “Y-yes mama, I got it-” “Honestly, I still don’t know how you could be so irresponsible,” Evangel scoffed, shaking her head. Seraph felt the knot in her chest tighten painfully. “I… I’m sorry, mama,” She said meekly. “I didn’t mean it, really.” “Yes, well, you have to do better,” Evangel continued. “I expect more from you. You’re so much better than that. You were doing perfectly a couple weeks ago, and I know you can do well if you try, doll.” “R-right, mama, I-I’m sorry. I’ll try harder, really!” “Apology accepted.” Evangel’s gaze felt as bleak as the gray sky. “I know you will.” She waved a hand at Seraph again, shooing her from the room. “Come back when you’ve finished looking at the stock. I’ve got a few more things I’ll need you to do, too.” “O-ok, I will.”

Walking down the steps, Seraph tried her best to steady herself. The icy knot in her chest felt like barbed wire, scratching at her heart. She needed to be in a better headspace if she was gonna look at stock, or she’d mess something up. But she couldn’t get what mama said out of her head. Her feet thumped heavily on the wooden stairs as the words echoed. You’re so much better than that. Mama was right, of course. She’d been making a lot of mistakes. Maybe it was leftover tiredness from her birthday, or maybe it was trying to get used to more height and longer limbs. Maybe she wasn’t used to doing so many chores. Maybe she needed more rest. She didn’t know. But none of it was an excuse! She’d been doing so much better before. Yes, mama was home the whole time she was out shopping. Yes, mama had put up groceries before. But it was Seraph’s job, because mama was working, and mama couldn’t help with all the things she needed her familiar to do. She- she couldn’t. Mama needed her. And she kept letting her down. What kind of familiar was she? As soon as the thought passed her mind, the pain in her chest spiked. It felt as if she’d spilled boiling water down her front- and it hurt. The little familiar let out a gasp, hoof clutching at her sweater. What was going on??? She bit her lip, leaning against the wall. Did she just need to breathe? She’d try to breathe. The air felt like ice in her throat when she inhaled deeply. It made her cough and wheeze, free hoof scrabbling for her throat. The boiling, scratching heat was spreading from her heart now. It felt like lava under her skin. Tears rose to her eyes, her body starting to shake. What was wrong with her?! She- she needed mama- mama- mAMA-! Seraph couldn’t finish her thought. Her mind gave up on thought as the pain skyrocketed. Somewhere distantly, she felt her legs give out from under her, and send her rolling down the last few steps. The last thing she registered was a tumbling kaleidoscope of pain and fear, the world suddenly shattering into a thousand little pieces.

Evangel glanced up sharply from her cereal when something thumped heavily down the steps. Confusion flashed across her face- what had seraph dropped now?- but it didn’t have long to take root. After all, the thumping was nothing compared to the shrieking that pierced the air moments later. She squealed indignantly, spoon flying from her hand as she tried not to fall face first out of her chair. What in Revaew’s good world was going on down there?! Had seraph somehow let in a hoard of seagulls?! With the amount of mistakes and foolishness she’d had to put up with lately, this was just the icing on the cake. Face reddening, she sputtered indignantly, gathering up her skirts to stomp down the steps. It was about time her familiar got a stern talking to. The shrieking continued, albeit more viciously, as she headed downstairs. “Seraph Sanyi, you stop that this instant!” she huffed, heels clacking dangerously on the steps. “I don’t know what you’ve let in here, but I suggest you let it out, or I’ll- I-I’ll-” All Evangel’s irritation drained as quickly as it appeared. She stood with one foot still on the steps, fistfuls of her skirts held in a grip tight enough to whiten her knuckles. Her face was just as pale, just as tense. The shrieking was less of a scream now. More of a slow hiss. But that’s not what stopped her cold. No, that honor belonged to the thing in front of her. It was hunched over in the center of the room, ripped fabric and torn clothing scattered about. The thing must’ve been around the size of a coyote- and it looked just as wild. Dozens of eyes- black, with silver slit pupils- peered from its exposed skin. They rolled and blinked unnaturally, nearly making the observer sick. Six wings flared protectively from its back, feathers of pearl, flax, and lavender gleaming eerily in the dim morning light. A halo floated low above its head. Its golden light was almost blinding to look at directly. As Evangel watched, a deep, guttural growl bubbled from its form. She would’ve recoiled in horror as the thing started to move, all of its many black eyes snapping to her, but she found her feet glued to the floor. She couldn’t do more than tremble as razor sharp claws scraped against the wood planks, the stark golden glow shining harshly against her skin. Wild wool shrouded a darkened face, a gaping maw glimmering wetly with rows on rows of sharpened teeth. She wished that were the end of it. But... its eyes… Silver. Pure silver. Glowing dimmer than the halo, but enough to tell the stark difference of slitted, pitch black pupils. And they were staring right at her. At her. The sorceress only had a moment of budding snarls before it flapped its wings and pounced. Evangel let out a shriek to rival the creature’s, diving out of the way. It managed to dig its claws into her skirt, snarling and screeching viciously. She screamed louder, tugging with such force that the prized silk tore into shreds. She gasped in utter horror- her dress was ruined- ruined!- nearly forgetting the creature was there. Its snarls reminded her, and she rushed frantically for the door. She slammed into it with enough force to ring the bell, clawing desperately at the handle as the creature yowled and screamed behind her. She managed to get it open just in time. When she slammed it shut, a clattering thunk accompanied a flurry of feathers and eyes and clawed hooves. Evangel could hear the creature screeching in fury. She didn’t care- couldn’t care- she just shoved the key in the lock, barring the door through tears that spilled from her eyes. She could feel the hot wetness streaming down her cheeks as she stumbled down the street. Her mind was absolutely reeling- and oh, everyone out here was staring at her- this really couldn’t get any worse- her poor dress- her makeup was ruined- and her shop- oh, the mess- What was that?! Who was that?! How had it gotten into her shop- and where was- She paused in realization, sniffling miserably. … where was seraph? ... Wait a minute. Wool? Hooves? Wings? Feathers? The halo… even the dark mask on the creature’s face… Slowly, the sorceress glanced over her shoulder. What in the name of satin silk skirts had gotten ahold of her familiar? … … there was only one person she could think to ask now. Her eyes searched the street, falling on the sign of the little music shop. Sadie Mellokomp. The lady that kept her little doll out much too late. Away from her. Though loathful bile clawed at the back of her throat, she swallowed it back down. No matter how much she despised it, Sadie likely knew more about seraph than she did. She’d need that woman if she were to figure out what just happened. ~~~

Talking with the woman was… an ordeal. Evangel supposed it could’ve gone worse. Sadie was sympathetic. Not so much about her dress- did she not know how much time and labor this would take to repair?!- but she felt bad about what happened to seraph. Because- apparently- that thing in the shop was seraph. Careful questioning revealed that familiars had something called a feral form. Her parents had neglected to inform her of its existence. If a familiar got too stressed and too overwhelmed, their entire body would warp into something awful. Evangel could feel the woman carefully sizing her up the whole conversation. She let tears spill over any time her gaze got too close for her liking- she hated people staring at her, and she especially didn’t like being accused of things. But what if she was being a bad originator? Perish the thought! She couldn’t be! She made seraph clothes, she gave her sweets for dessert, she let her see the sirens and sleep in on weekends and was making her a whole new wardrobe! Seraph must’ve had something going on that she didn’t tell her about! Evangel blubbered long enough for Sadie to give her some stiff- if a little flat- comfort. Eventually, she pulled herself together enough to think about heading back. The woman told her that feral forms were triggered by too much stress. Too much work. Evangel supposed she had been pushing seraph a little hard. If this was what happened from piling on all those chores, she supposed she might ease up some. At least enough to figure out how to keep that under control. … first, though… she’d need to handle her wayward familiar. 

~~~

Evangel stood before the door to her shop once again. Her hand shook like a leaf, bringing fleeting memories of the day she moved here. Behind her, she could feel countless eyes on her back. They clawed at her tattered dress, her runny makeup, her unkempt hair- she shut her eyes for a moment, trying to breathe. She’d deal with this horror later. For now, she just… had to take care of her familiar problem. That would be easy enough. Seraph loved her, after all.

The door opened with a click and a creak, shedding dim cloudy light on a fabric littered floor. The pure carnage of ruined clothes was enough to choke up the door’s occupant. Oh, all her work… and her designs… she nearly sobbed on the spot. Of course, the pale golden light grazing the walls put a stop to that

The creature was crouched just under the back counter, wings shifting in agitation. Its blackened eyes roamed all over the room, unable to gaze at any one thing. Destroying the mounds of soft fabric felt good. But only for a little. The tension in its chest was replaced with a dull ache. Some part of it said it shouldn’t have done that. But why? What… what even… happened? Its body felt… wrong. Too bright. Too big. Too many limbs. Too… sharp. It shook its head gently, claws digging through wool to scrabble at deep purple skin. It had been desperate. Desperate to get… something. Attention? A word? A… a touch? Its thoughts had plenty of time to turn in circles, but came to a screeching halt the moment the door creaked open. Its body tensed, wings flaring up on instinct. Something made the door move. Someone. Made the door open. Someone was here. A low, menacing hiss rumbled from its throat. Nobody was allowed near it. Not now. Not ever. Its claws dug into the counter’s side as it snaked up top. Its lips were drawn back in a furious snarl, ears pressed firmly against its skull. Though many eyes continued their mindless wandering, quire a few fixed on the new light pouring in. A figure stood in the doorway. The shape seemed tantalizingly familiar. But something about them was… wrong. Cold. Icy. Unmoving. Unsmiling. Unhappy, unable to please, to do right, to do anything- The creature clawed at itself again, shrieking softly. Shut up shut up shut up shut up- Wings shuffling about, obscuring its view, it almost didn’t catch the figure moving. But move they did, and it made the creature screech in warning. The figure’s answering cry made its chest churn uncomfortably- wrong wrong- and it curled in on itself. It spread its wings wide, trying to make itself as large as possible. Leave leave go away, stay away, stay away- Suddenly, the figure spoke. “Seraph, is… is that you?” … seraph. Seraph. The name was… did it know that name? Its threatening growls wavered in confusion. The name seemed to fit, but… how did the figure know that? Familiar, wrong, stay away stay away- “Oh, sweetheart… it’s ok… mama’s here…” Mama? The word tumbled around strangely in its mind, freezing its body in place. Mama. Mama mama mama. Its slitted eyes grazed over the figure, bewildered. Yes, that… wait… did that fit? Mama… She… nngh- The creature’s wings caved in on itself, their threat display unsustainable with the turmoil in its mind. It wrapped itself in feathers, shrieking softly in distress. Seraph- yes- mama- yes- no?- who- who is- but- safe?- wrong- wrong wrong wrong- “... seraph… I…” The creature crooned painfully. “I’m sorry.” The words ground the creature’s mind to a halt. Silence fell in the shop. Neither of its occupants did more than breathe. Eventually, the glow of the creature’s halo seemed to dim a little. Feathers shifted slightly. Silver eyes peeked from behind them. Searching. Hurting. Confused. The figure returned its gaze steadily, carefully spreading their arms in invitation. “I’m sorry, doll. I didn’t realize you were feeling this bad.” Sorry, sorry… “Won’t you come to mama now?” Ma... m… ev… evan… gel…? “I promise I’ll help make everything better.” Suddenly, everything came rushing back.

Evangel watched as her familiar’s form bucked and heaved, curling up smaller and smaller in the blinding light of her halo until all that remained was the small creature she knew. The tension left her shoulders immediately, a sigh escaping her lips. Good, it worked. She didn’t know what she would’ve tried if it didn’t. She didn’t want to go drag that woman- Sadie- down to do a job she should’ve been able to. This was her familiar. She was handling things just fine. Of course, the situation wasn’t over yet. She did not want a repeat of that… episode. Evangel crossed the room quickly, scooping up her familiar in her arms. Seraph clung to her weakly. As the little one twittered apologies and confused questions, she simply hushed her, promising rest and sweets. A story, too, if she wanted. No need to worry about the absolutely dreadful mess the familiar made- not now, anyway. Evangel would clean it- blegh, how awful- and let the little one rest. It would be ok. She was here. Anything to keep her doll quiet and content while she figured this out. … she just needed to keep this from happening again.

~~~

In the corner of the bedroom, Seraph lay curled up in fleece blankets. Normally, she wouldn’t have these. Normally, she contented herself with swatches of comfy fabric scraps. But today… was not normal. Today… she didn’t know what happened. Trying to remember was all a blur. Tumbling down the stairs, agonizing pain, and suddenly a glimpse of a figure in the doorway, whispering apologies and sweet nothings. She’d been bundled away upstairs, into where she was now. Given softness and a few of her favorite cookies. Promises were made about rest and who would share the chores. It all felt… strange. Good, but strange. Maybe she’s getting better, a voice whispered in the back of her head. She shifted a little, pulling back fleece to peek at the door. She could hear her originator speaking downstairs. The rasp of bristles on wood said she was cleaning. Cleaning up her mess. She’d seen the tears in her originator’s best dress. Seen the shreds of fabric of her finest work scattered all over the woodwork. Felt the horror bubbling up in her chest even as she was reassured it would all be ok. Seraph let the blankets fall back over her head. She knows what happened. She’s not mad at me. She’s… she’s letting me rest. She’s taking care of me. She said she was sorry. She said she’d make it better. Seraph took a shaky breath, letting her eyes drift shut. She would rest. Just like she was told. And… the warmth… the cookies… the gentle tones of her originator’s voice… She loved her. She did. She really, really did. So… it would be ok. Yes, it would be ok. … but the familiar made herself a promise, anyway.

Evangel will take care of me. She loves me. I love her too. I’m here to help. I’m not here to hurt. I will never, ever let this happen again.

#afw chapter #afw #a familiar world #my story #arty writes #seraph sanyi #evangel sanyi #feral form #eye horror #resolutions are made by both party and neither of them are good LSKDJFKLS #ah well #anyway no thoughts head empty #watch out for evangel being yikes and ser needs a hug #hehe parallels in here... :3 #oof tm SLKDJF