#wow are you also followed around by an obnoxious creature who is all over your house and has a very loud voice from the same va

[starmilkman]

goth mlm wlw solidarity

#theyd be good friends #happy pride month #gravity falls #the owl house #toh #toh lilith #gf ford #stanford pines #lilith clawthorne #transgender #trans #crossover #cartoon #lgbt #lgbtqa #wow are you also followed around by an obnoxious creature who is all over your house and has a very loud voice from the same va #trans lilith.... my beloved #trans stanford is just canon for me now #meme #this isnt a ship post but you can tag as such if youd really like to

[kominum]

rewatching old sailor moon and thought of like... disgruntled tuxedo mask!corpse but with unrequited love because i’m a glutton for angst

wc: ~2.2k 

warnings: death of a minor character, implicit knowledge of sailor moon lore, modern twist, unedited

please send in ideas you might have that i could write short blurbs for! this was honestly fun to write. 

It’s a scratch he can’t itch. It’s what has him waking up in cold sweats, confused and moderately annoyed that his hard-earned sleep has been so rudely interrupted. He hates the cape, he hates the itchy suit, he abhors the top hat – and the only things he doesn’t really hate are his baton and endless supply of darkened roses.

The first time he transformed, he was half-asleep and struggling to understand why he was speeding down the highway and parking two blocks away from some random back alley. His pain was relatively dulled, which was surprising, and his body suddenly possessed a world of fighting skills that felt foreign yet familiar. All he could recognize was a slightly disheveled woman cursing and just trying her best against some odd form of demon spawn, and before he knew it, he’d thrown down a dark purple rose and engaged in combat. Once said woman found an opening, she took off her headband/tiara, performed a throw that would put professional frisbee players to shame, and the monster disintegrated into dust.

“Jesus Christ,” he panted, body hunched over and hands on his knees. “What the fuck was that?”

“More like who the fuck are you?”

“Fuck if I know,” he muttered and dusted himself off.  

“What’s with your get-up anyways?” She failed to hide her snickering. “You’re 3 decades behind.”

“Do I look like I want to fight in a suit? Plus, you’re fighting in some rendition of a schoolgirl uniform.” Her black thigh-high boots were killer, but he wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction.

“You should’ve seen what it was before, but I was able to make some changes. Good heads-up for you and—”

“Sailor Moon, are you okay?!”

Oh. So she’s got a talking cat, too. What in fresh hell was going on? Did he take something? But also—“Your name is Sailor Moon?”

“We’re working on the name change,” she grumbled, bending down to let said feline jump up her arm and settle on her shoulder. “Anyways, uh…thanks. I was kind of in a bind, but I’m usually not I swear. Good timing, I guess?”

“If that’s what you wanna call it.” But she was already in the wind, hopping from roof to roof with no inhibitions, and left him completely dumbfounded.

His silly attire dissolved back into his previous clothing as he ambled back towards his car, thought not exactly at his own will. But he shrugged, slid into the car seat, and dialed the only person he could think of who would readily pick up at this ungodly hour of…2:37AM. That was just the start, and he can’t tell if things went downhill from there.

-

He should backtrack.

He met you almost two years ago at a hospital.

You had been waiting anxiously for your boyfriend to come out of surgery after being in a bad car accident, biting your nails, occasionally pacing back and forth, smoothing your hands worriedly against your jeans, and gnawing your bottom lip to death. It was midday, sometime after lunch, and he’d come in for some routine checkup he can’t remember what for now, and sat a few seats away from you in the tiny hospital coffee shop. He’s no therapist or expert, but he highly doubted that any caffeine would alleviate your anxiety. Yet you sat there with two to-go cups and a granola bar wrapper, and something told him to stick around for now.

He’s never been one for a lot of small talk, but you looked to be about his age and no one else was with you. Tragedy tasted most bitter when alone, and some force of the universe told him to at least say something, anything. So he stuffed his hands into his hoodie and shuffled awkwardly to your table, tentatively asking a, “Hey, uh…is everything okay?”

You’d looked up at him with wild eyes on the verge of tears, heart battering against your chest, and the only intelligible thing that left your mouth was a “Huh?”

And he’d casted a gentle grin, eyes laced with a mixture of pity and concern, and asked again his first question. “My boyfriend’s in surgery. He got in a bad accident. There’s um…roughly two hours left, I think.”

“And you thought coffee would make it better?” He jutted his chin towards your large cups.

“Hot chocolate,” you chuckled. “I’m not keen on torturing myself like that, not now at least.”

“Well, I’ve got an appointment soon but I should be done before his surgery’s over…want me to come check up on you?”

Dumbfounded was the best way to describe your expression, and he was so close to retracting his offer before you gave him one of the most thankful smiles he’d seen in many years. “I’d really appreciate that.”

He nodded. “Sounds good then. Give me a sec.”

At the counter, he paid for another cup of hot chocolate and added in a chocolate chip cookie for good measure before bringing it back to you. “I hear chocolate helps.”

“Thank you, again. Go, don’t want to make you late.”

But an hour and a half later in the waiting area outside surgery, the doctor came out with a solemn expression, and you all but collapsed into the plastic chairs, tears leaking like waterfalls from your eyes. Part of him wanted to bail and go because there wasn’t much he could do, but it wouldn’t be right to leave you to drive home now. He wanted to make sure that you were calmed down, all cried out, and breathing properly so you could at least operate a vehicle safely.

The same unknown force had him offering you his number in case you needed anyone to talk to, yet the conversation sat empty for weeks until curiosity and guilt ate at him. He tapped out a message, deleting it, then another one, more deleting, before he settled on a plain, “It’s the guy from the hospital. I know it’s been a while but…how are you?”

Your reply was almost instantaneous, to which he worried if he’d accidentally woken you up at 4:13AM. First, it’s a casual, “hey, thanks for checking up on me! I’m doing okay,” but he knew better. And the other shoe dropped in the form of a simple, “I miss him.”

It’s a quiet, heartwarming friendship. You know nothing specific about him – he’s incredibly vague on any identifying information. Hell, you’d be willing to bet that the name at the hospital was a fake one. Nevertheless, he’s one of your closest friends. You know he mainly works online, has a lot of trouble sleeping, is chronically ill and has a number of medical conditions, his general disposition and feelings on things, but overall, just wonderfully easy to talk to.

Yet something just feels wrong about falling in love with him. It’s a horrid combination of guilt and disbelief. Are you rebounding? Are you subconsciously searching for your dead ex-boyfriend? Are you so desperate for romantic connections that you’ve twisted yourself into believing you love a man that you’ve seen fewer times than the number of fingers you have?

You come to peace with it when his custom ringtone chimes softly on your nightstand in the middle of the night. Rain or shine, stars or none, there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him. Nothing has ever woken you up so quickly, not even alarms on interview days. “Hello?”

“Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Kind of, but it’s fine. What’s up? Wait,” you interrupt yourself and listen carefully to your speaker. “Are you…driving?”

“…yeah.”

“Should I ask from or to where?”

“I…honestly don’t know. Something felt off, felt like I had to get out of my place and just fucking do something. So uh, I drove somewhere and just started driving back home.”

You curl up under your sheets on your side and plug your earbuds into the phone. “Well, did it get rid of whatever you were feeling?”

“I think so? Honestly couldn’t fucking tell you. Still really bizarre to me.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” you murmur. “Well, feel free to call me whenever you feel like that again.”

“I don’t wanna fuck up your sleep schedule though. Feel like it’ll happen more often than I’d like.”

“How about this – if I don’t pick up, it’ll just be my nice way of saying ‘fuck off, too busy sleeping right now’?”

A soft, deep chuckle warms your chest and cheeks. “Sounds good. So how’ve you been?”

“Well, you know…”

It’s the same night that you think you might have a chance at love again. You fall asleep with his voice weaving stories and tales in your ears and wake up to a message that says, “Wow, didn’t know I was so fucking boring that it made you snore so loud.” The hope that creeps through your veins is dangerous and thrums urgently whenever you get a call or message from him.

And as bright as a star, it all comes crashing down in a firey blaze.

You crash into a girl as mysterious and serenely beautiful as the moon with a talking black cat one afternoon. She exudes a gorgeous amount of confidence in her stance as she protects you from a creature that looks like it’s out of a horror video game, and you can only stare in awe. The cat from before yells instructions at you, throwing what looks like a pen with a red cap on it and you blindly follow them. Your subsequent red heels feel incredibly comfortable and you can’t remember the last time you wore a skirt – but there’s no time to ponder as you push the girl you were admiring out of harm’s way and somehow manage to direct fire at them from your fingertips.

The monster burns and screams in agony before getting hit with what looks like a glowing frisbee. Your savior wipes the dust off her outfit before extending a hand out to you, “Welcome to the club, Sailor Mars.”

Say what now?

“There’s gotta be a better name than that,” is the first thing you say as you get pulled up. She throws her head back and lets out a charmingly obnoxious laugh. “We’ll work on changing it. I can tell we’re gonna be good friends.”

“Her name ended up being a rip-off of my name,” the cat quips and receives a scowl from the supposed plagiarizer. “I’m Luna, and this is Sailor Moon, or Lunaria she says.”

“You gotta admit, that’s cutting it a little close,” you agree and Lunaria flips the bird. “How the fuck am I going to change Sailor Mars? Also, can I do anything about this outfit?”

“We can go shopping tomorrow for sure. Luna and I can fill you on everything and – oh, before I forget, there’s a guy—”

“So it looks like you don’t need my help?”

You freeze in your steps, startled by the familiar baritone approaching you two. He was involved in all this?

“I told you, I don’t need your help—”

“Is she new?”

“Yeah, which means, we really don’t need your help. She’s got actual fire power. Literal fire.”

“That’s pretty fucking cool,” he accepts. “Good to meet you.”

You spot a set of veiny fingers that appears in your peripheral and you tentatively turn in his direction, hoping that your hair will obstruct your face as much as possible. “Same,” your throat manages to squeak out as his warm hand engulfs yours in a firm handshake.

“Get out of here, Corpse,” Lunaria chides and lets go of you to push a finger to his chest.

“I’m only here because you fucking needed saving. Now you’ve got another person dragged in.”

“I told you, I’m not some fucking damsel in distress,” she hisses. The mirth in his visible eye only causes the infuriation to grow and swirl more vigorously in her gut.

You watch the exchange from the sidelines as Corpse’s teasing only increases and provokes Lunaria further, disheartened that you’ve never heard him laugh so much in one exchange before. Dread from deep within your veins begins to freeze around your heart, something so set and undeniable that causes your brain to realize that falling in love with him was a mistake. It was the kind of mistake that would strike you with pain for years and the intense foreshadowing has you spinning on your heel and bounding through an alleyway. Your outfit shifts back to what you’d been wearing before, the characteristic weight of your phone in your back pocket seeming heavier than ever.

You call him that night, holding in a deep breath when the dial tone breaks midway. A rustle, a breath, and then, “Hey what’s up?”

Oh god, you scream to yourself as your heart shatters at the bottom of your chest. His voice, again, cannot be misconstrued as anyone else’s – the inflection, the tone, the volume, everything belonged to him.

And the universe told you then and there that he, undoubtedly, belonged to her.

#corpse x reader #corpse x y/n #sailor moon!au #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband imagine #corpse husband angst #corpse angst

[iwannaholdyoutight-]

confessioni di sex shop (a sunlight little story)

This is a little piece I wrote after de Gucci short movie, it followes the story of Harry and Lavignia and her sexual descovery. You can read the one shot here .

It’s Italy Harry, with a dash of the 70s and a lot of sex. You don’t have to read the firsy piece to understand this! Also: pegging!h

Summary: Harry takes Lav to her first sex shop trip and there she descovers a new kink: pegging her boyfriend. 

Word count: 7k 

Preview:

Lavignia knew Harry for a little while but she already knew it was impossible to ever become accustomed to how direct and honest he was about everything. If Harry felt something, he was going to say. If he wants something he’s going to say. There is almost nothing that can make him blush, actually… 

“I think is unfair how you can make me dizzy and unsettled with just a few words and I can never even make you blush” 

“You make me blush all the time, my dear. Just by being being here with me you already make me blush with desire and burn with such a loving feeling” 

“The best part of dating a poet is that every word that leaves his mouth feels like a book that only I can read” 

“You can open me anytime you want, little darling” he said with a mischievous grin “and there is the blush I love so much… where is my kiss, love?” 

“And you can put the painting over there” said the demanding voice of Jesse Fire, one of the gallery owners. Lavignia could see from the corner of her eyesight that Lovelace was rolling her eyes 

“Lance, sweetheart” Lovelace started “you know nothing about art so can you let me and Lav decide?” 

He gave her a sarcastic laugh, oh how Lavignia wanted to hit him. 

“Well I pay for the stuff so I have a say in this”

“My darling I can’t wait for this painting to be here, for the journalist get your pictures next to it so you can finally go back to Rome”

“That’s the price you pay when you need a billionaire to support you little art gallery” he said walking away towards the office.

“Lovelace, I’m so jealous of Vanessa. I mean...” Lavignia started “She’s so lucky to be in honeymoon right now, she doesn’t have to deal with… him” she continued while looking around the books, doing research for the next exbithion “Right now she is in sunny California, going to concerts, fucking all the time… that’s the life”

“Oh wow… two months ago you couldn’t even say “sex” and now you are so freely talking about fucking all the time. What have we done to you” Lovelace said with a small laugh. 

“It’s the energy of this place if you want me to be honest”

“The energy of this place or a certain someone that is loving on you all the time”

“That someone is partly responsible, yeah. But I like to think the change   because of me, and because I wanted to”

“Of course, darling” said Lovelace “and speaking about Harry… how’s the book?”

“I don’t know, he said I can only read it when it’s done… but it’s unfair, how can he call me his muse and just not let me read what he’s writing about me?”

Just like Harry knew they were talking about him, he got into the gallery wearing the shortest jean shorts ever - an only pair of flare jeans that got so worn out that he decided to turn into shorts, but he cut it too short. Lav said for him to just wear the shorts at home, but of course he wouldn’t listen. And now here he was, walking inside his workplace looking out of a porn movie.

“You know I’m starting to think neither of you work, all you do is talk about me” he said getting closer, using his arms to pull Lovelace into a side hug and then walking towards Lavignia with a little plastic pag hanging between his long fingers “Little darling, I got you lunch” he said giving her a sweet kiss on the lips.

“Baby, you didn’t have to…” 

“Lav, the way I know him, he came here to check on Jesse”

“Look the guy is always treating everyone here like shit but …’ his voice got softer “I wanted to see you. I missed you on my bed this morning”

“I happen to own an apartment and I have to sleep there sometimes, Harry”

“I know, I know, darling. But I can’y help but miss you terribly”

Getting closer and closer he gave her a peck, by now Lovelace knew how lost inside their little word they could get when they were together, so she was no longer paying attention to the couple that was kissing sweetly and talking in whispers.

“So” Harry started “You think we can go today?”

“Yeah, I have done so much and Lovelace was talking about getting out early so we didn’t have to deal with Jesse”

“I’m so anxious to take you there, I think it’s going to be a good experience for you… and for me”

“Taking her where?” the obnoxious voice of Jesse sounded from a bit far but was there “You are taking my employee out during working hours”

“You know just Like you I own ¼ of this business and if there is someone that can complain of her leaving early is Lovelace that owns 2/4. So you can just shut the fuck up”

Lav was trying hard not to laugh at his response. She hated Jesse but she loved how much Harry didn’t even try to hide his dislike for the guy, always with the right answers.

“And she can go” Lovelace started “but… if I’m allowed the curiosity, where are you taking her, Harry?

They looked at each other and answered at the same time:

“Shopping” she said.

“A sex shop” he said.

“COME ONE, HARRY” he was laughing at her 

“Darling we are among friends” sparing a cold look towards Jesse Fire he continued “and somewhat people we have to endure. And it’s your first sex shop trip, it’s special”

He talked while helping her put together her stuff so they could leave

“Harry, I didn’t knew we can now work dressed like a little slut” Jesse was trying to get a rinse out of Harry, but today Harry was too happy with Lav to shallow his provocative words

“You are only jealous I look better with these little shorts than any woman you ever tried to fuck”

Lovelace was laughing while Lav was pinching his bum so he could shut up. She really wanted to leave.

“Lav” oh, no. Jesse was now coming for her “you are too beautiful to hang out with someone like Harry. You deserve a manly man”

“Jesse, sweetheart” she said while holding Harry’s hand and walking towards the door without even sparing a glance towards the blonde man “I like my manly man with jeans shorts and colorful skirts, haven’t you heard? It’s easier to fuck, by the way, you should give it a shot” looking up at Harry she could see his green eyes shinning with pride “or maybe…” turning around to look at Jesse, she wanted to humiliate him a little bit “don’t, you would never pull this style of. And by the way: you’re pathetic”.

Walking toward Harry’s yellow BMW she looked at him 

“What a miracle you’re with the car and not the harley”

“I wanted to piss Jesse off”

“I think we did a good job” she told him while getting inside the car with his hand on her back 

“I think we did” bending down he have her a sweet but longer kiss than the ones they shared inside  “now, shall we go to the sex shop, my lady?”

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

The sun was high in the sky, the august weather was nice. Lavignia was enjoying the sandwich and strawberry juice Harry had made her while he drove on the coast. From the window she could see kids and their family playing with them by the beach, beautiful girls wearing only a bikini and walking around with their colorful rollerblades. 

The radio was playing some romantic song in Italian, she could hear the faint voice of Harry humming along some of the words, with a hand on the steering wheel and the other holding her thigh. With his green eyes covered by yellow ray bans, Lavignia wanted to know what he was thinking. 

“A kiss for your thoughts?” Asked the woman 

“You could have just asked me” he said looking at her briefly “but who am I to refuse a kiss from you, specially when I know it’s going to taste like strawberries” smiling he continued to drive while looking at her every few seconds “I was thinking about only a few months ago when we met and I thought you weren’t going to last inside that gallery and now here I am, taking you to your first sex shop trip, writing a book about my beautiful dark haired Venus, who I happen to be able to call ‘my girlfriend’ and I’m just so so so fond of you. Sometimes I can’t believe I actually have found you because… you’re perfect. You’re everything I wanted and I didn’t even knew that till I laid my eyes on that shy creature that was blushing while I talked about acid trips and ménage but managed to overcome her prejudice and allowed me to love on her” 

Lavignia knew Harry for a little while but she already knew it was impossible to ever become accustomed to how direct and honest he was about everything. If Harry felt something, he was going to say. If he wants something he’s going to say. There is almost nothing that can make him blush, actually… 

“I think is unfair how you can make me dizzy and unsettled with just a few words and I can never even make you blush” 

“You make me blush all the time, my dear. Just by being being here with me you already make me blush with desire and burn with such a loving feeling” 

“The best part of dating a poet is that every word that leaves his mouth feels like a book that only I can read” 

“You can open me anytime you want, little darling” he said with a mischievous grin “and there is the blush I love so much… where is my kiss, love?” 

Raising from her seat she got closer to the man and gave him a peck on the cheek 

“Heey, I want a real one” 

“You are driving” 

After that they continued with a comfortable silence till they came to a stop at the traffic light. Lav was distracted by the way the sunlight was reflecting on the opal ring Harry gave her last week when she felt his hands on the back for her neck, pulling her close, demanding attention. 

She looked at him and felt his lips on her at the same moment. A fervent kiss. 

Harry was a lover. He had all the love languages inside of him. He was a words of affirmation type of guy in the morning when he was making her breakfast, with her eyes looking like she was a little panda from all the fucking the night before, and he looks at her and says “so beautiful with last night all over you”. 

Harry also was an acts of service type of man, from bringing her lunch to fixing her house cleaning when she was too busy with the gallery. He also liked to receive as much as he loved giving gifs: he was so thankful when he got home from a meeting with his editor and there was a pair of fluffy handmade pants she left for him since she couldn’t be there but at the same time, Harry would drive all the way through Rome just to find the perfect opal ring to give to her. 

A quality time together was also one of his ways of expressing love: from the way he holds her tight everyday to how he liked hanging out late at the gallery just watching her work. They didn’t have to do anything and he would still love every second he was with her. 

At last but not least, Harry was a firm believer in physical touch, of course, always with a hand on her. Not only to be sexual, but in a casual intention: it was a way of reminding both of them they weren’t alone anymore. They had each other. 

Harry was made out of love from head to toe and Lavignia just wanted for him to feel just as loved. Emotionally and sexually. She was his at the same pace he was hers. 

She was good with words but not very good with the sexual part. But she was getting better. She no longer was that same judgmental girl that came running during a sunny Monday morning inside the gallery. 

This sex shop travel came in handy: she was going to find something to make him quiver just like he did to her. Even if she is blushing the whole time. 

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

It was a small street almost on the way out of the villa they lived in. There were little houses everywhere, all colorful. Harry was holding Lav's hand and looking around. She was always impressed with how much he didn’t care what people thought of him, walking around with his tiny shorts, showing his long legs and pretty bum. 

“You know it’s unfair that you have such a pretty little but” 

 His loud laugh made everybody look at them. 

“What are you complaining about? I mean… you quite enjoy holding onto this pretty ass when I’m deep inside of you” 

“I’m not complaining I just said it’s not fair, you get to be all perfect and I just live in wonder that I get to be with you and see this pretty butt almost everyday” 

“You can do more than just see” Lav was in shock but Harry already knew that. After those few months together he knew all the buttons to push, partly thankfully for her sexual inexperience once they first met because he always melted at the same time parts of him got even harder from the way she would react to every new thing they did “I love when you make that face but you know what I love even more?” 

Making her walk backwards towards the wall of a very blue house he used his left arm to raise her a little bit so he could look inside her eyes. 

“I love when I show you something new during sex and for 2 seconds you look at me curious and then your eyes go darker because this thing you didn’t even knew it could happen makes you feel all hot” Lavignia was feeling hypnotized, that was Harry’s biggest power: to make her melt under his spell “and that’s why I’m so excited because I’m gonna spend a few minutes watching your reactions to everything and I can’t wait to see how you’ll react… by the way, we’re here”. He said with his head pointing towards the blue house she was resting her back. 

Okay. Lavignia could do this. 

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

She never saw so many dicks in her life. 

Of course they were plastic. 

But the moment she got inside the store she was shocked. Still holding Harry’s hand she walked towards a pink wall full of dildos in every size. 

“If you see anything you like, let me know” she heard his voice from behind her “it’s my gift to you” 

“Harry… I don’t know what I want out of tonight so I can go and buy what I want” 

“Well, I can always give you a tour” she heard a slow and sensual female voice from her side. 

When Lavignia turned around she was met with two large breasts covered by a simple black and white dress, the woman was tall. With big blonde curls and blue eyes, Lavignia had to raise her head to be able to look at the goddess that was waiting for her to say anything. 

“Harry, per quanto tempo, mi amore. Come stai” the blonde woman continued to talk, now in Italian.

“Screvivendo il mio nuovo libro” he said while giving her a kiss on the cheek “Nadine, let me introduce you to Lavignia, my girlfriend. Lav, this is an old friend of mine” 

“Oh, it’s so lovely to finally meet the one to take this man out of his misery, last time I saw him one the weekend before that last showing, the first one you were in, I think” she said while giving Lav a kiss on the cheek, she smelled like roses and champagne. A rich smell of such a classy young lady. “anyway, how can I help you guys? Looking for a new dildo, H? Isn’t your collection already big enough?” 

“Of course not and if Lav wants another one… I’ll give her, for sure” 

“Sure… and Lav ” the tall woman turned to look at the shorter from the trio “do you know what you’re looking for?” 

She wanted to buy something that could make Harry blush. But she didn’t want to say this with him next to her. 

“Baby, you don’t have to be shy. No one is going to judge you” Harry said to her in a soft tone. 

“I don’t know what to look for” 

“Darling, think of all our conversations, every movie I’ve shown you, every book I have borrowed, even everything we have done sexually… is there anything you liked and want to try?” 

“I liked when you held me down with the help of the handcuffs” 

“That’s my girl. Do you want to get a new pair?” Yeah, she wanted one. Lavignia didn’t know exactly why but she wanted to use it on him. 

“You already have that sex swing, right?” Nadine asked “I remember from your last party” Harry widened his eyes trying to get her to shup up. It worked, but now Lavignia had a few things you ask him

“Nadine would you mind that I stay alone with Harry for a little while?” 

“Of course not. I’m going to tend to some people inside the costumes area. It’s a good spot, by the way, if you even want to dress like a kinky school girl” 

“Oh god” she heard Harry whisper to himself. Part of him was always afraid that she started questioning his past. He was already so in love with her that the idea of her leaving him because she can’t accept everything he is, makes him sad. Especially because it has happened before. 

“Darling” she said in a calm voice “what kind of parties do you happen to throw?” 

Here goes nothing 

“A normal one but… with a few sexual elements in the middle?” 

“So what everybody fucks everybody?” 

“No, you don’t have to fuck anyone to be at my party. But you can fuck anyone that is willing to fuck you at my party. The rule is that it has to be consensual” 

“I have to be honest” she started with a tremble “I worry that someday you’ll think that I’m not what you want” 

Harry couldn’t help but leave out breath in sign of relief. But knowing that, after everything they went through, she was still insecure about it. It made him sad. He wanted to be a synonym of peace, happiness and pleasure for her. Not insecurity.  

“Darling, you are everything to me. And I have so much fun with you” he needed to say the right thing “sex is important but isn’t the foundation of a relationship. If sex was everything a relationship needed I wouldn’t  be so lonely till I met you. I love being in between your legs as much as I love watching you drinking your coffee during breakfast with a big book about an art movement while I make you pancakes. I love when I visit you at the gallery when you’re not expecting me and your eyes shine like the brightest little stars. So don’t ever doubt my feelings for you” 

“But like you don’t miss those things that I can’t give you?” 

“But you give me everything, little darling” 

“But like… you also like men” 

Harry didn’t like the way this conversation was turning” 

“You know I do. I thought you didn’t care about this?” 

“NO, I don't, it's just….” Lavignia used her hand to hold onto his shorts, bringing him closer to her, creating s little bubble to give the impression they no one at that sex shop could hear them “don’t you miss it?” 

“Men?” 

“I was thinking more like… a dick, you know” Harry couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. 

“Don’t laugh at me! I was thinking when you went to England for a week to meet with your editor and I missed so much but I don’t only mean by missing you YOU. I was missing…” she was blushing so much and Harry was starting to figure it out. 

“Darling you mean you missed my dick?” Harry asked while pulling him towards his body, using his hand to light her head so he could kiss her temple. 

“Yeah” almost a whisper 

“Don’t get shy on me now, you are telling me you miss my cock when I’m not around. Come one, tell me more. Fill my ego” 

“Stop it” she said smiling but suddenly getting shy at him again “it’s just… do you even miss being filled?” 

“It’s a nice feeling but I don’t want anyone else, I want you. Okay?” 

“Okay. I’m sorry for being insecure, everything is so new to me” 

“It’s fine, darling. I promise you” 

She smiled. Harry looked at the wall of dildos, seeing the types that could be put into a harness. 

“You know… there is a way you can fill me up too” 

“How?” 

“Do you see this?” Harry said using his hand to hold the harness “it’s for someone without a cock. We can fit a dildo or even a vibrator here” he said indicating the spot “and you can fuck me all you want, we can even get one that it’s without a strap, we call it strapless, that goes inside of you too, so we can come together.” 

She had her eyes opened like a panda. 

“We don’t have to do it today. If you don’t feel comfortable with the idea we don’t ever have to do it” 

“But what if I did?” 

“I'm going to buy a movie with a strap scene in it and also a nice kit of new plugs, like the ones you like wearing for work when we feel adventurous, and I’ll get the strap you want with the dildo you want, with a few candles, lube, a new lingerie for my princess. And then… I’ll let you fuck me” 

“I want to make you blush like you do to me” she finally had the courage to say it 

“Then let’s pick our toys. Do you want to be a strapless dildo or one with a strap?” 

Their weekend just got even more fun than Harry thought it would be. 

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They couldn’t wait to be inside. The moment Harry parked his car, she was going for a kiss. One that he’s giving back with as much fervor. With her small sundress and Harry’s jean shorts, she could feel all of him. 

“You little devil” he said after she started to move her hips, putting pressure on the ever growing budge between his legs. 

“What? Should I stop?” She asked faking innocence 

“Look at you being all so confident. Just wait till we’re watching one of those movies. I’m sure you’ll go back to be my blushy beauty. 

“Don’t you believe me” she asked, using her hand to travel down his covered chest, till his pants. Feeling him hot all over, hard and pulsing. Waiting. Desiring her “when I say I’ll be the one to make you blush today?” 

“Darling… fuck” he said moving his hips to make her slow hand movements stronger “if you don’t want this to be over before it has even started, i sugest you lead us inside the house. We have a movie to watch. Plugs to wear. And you… have an ass to fuck” 

If Lavignia thought she had him by the collar, she just thought wrong. Because when he finished talking she was the one breathing heavily, needing relief. Any type of relief. 

“Come on, let's take our stuff inside” he said nodding towards the shopping bags full of sexy goods for them. The night was young and Lavignia couldn’t wait to live through the night. 

So, as if he was taking the bags from a trip to the grocery store, he got out of the yellow vehicle, whistling, opening the back door that leads to the very black and white tiles kitchen. 

“So… she said helping him take the toys out so they could clean everything” 

“Why don’t you go get dolled up for me with this new lingerie and I’ll go set the movie for us?”

“Do you remember where the projector is?” 

“Yeah darling. Where do you want us?” 

“I can be cliche but I want it in your bedroom” 

“And in my bedroom will be. See you in 15, little darling. Go get ready” 

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The pink lace looked pretty when Lavignia looked at her reflection in the golden border mirror. It was a baby doll, completely see through. With little glitters everywhere. 

Underneath there was a barely there  pink lace panties. She felt like Botticelli’s Venus. Using her free hand she put her hair an elegant bun - keying sooner or later it would all come off during their activities. 

She could hear Harry moving from the other side of the door. Making so they could watch the tape he had bought back at the sex shop. He told her he would get everything ready for her and she knew he would. Harry was always doing everything to make her feel comfortable. 

Taking small steps she opened the door: rose wine and strawberries covered in rich chocolate could be seen sitting on the small table closer to the desk. The white panel was already up and Harry was messing with the wire of the projector. 

“Hey, doll” he said, still not looking at her. He was already without his shirt, and Lavignia could see the dark patch of his pubes appearing from the shorts. He had a concentrated look on his face, trying to connects all the right wires. Finally he smiled, the job was done, raising his head to look at the smaller girl. 

“You look like an angel”

“Well I’m pretty sure no angel would do what I’m about to do to you” 

“A few months ago you wouldn’t either” 

“Touché” she said walking towards him, letting Harry bring her close to his chest, looking closer at the ornaments on her baby doll “so, we have a movie to watch, right?” 

“Yeah, but, I wanna get ready for you. Drink your wine, I’m gonna get one of the new plugs and get myself a bit stretched for you” 

Giving her a kiss on the lips and a little slap on the ass, he got the bags that were resting on the bed and went to the bathroom. 

Laying down on the bed with a flute between her fingers, Lavignia was lost in thoughts of desire and love. 

When she first came to Italy she had no idea she would find herself and find not only love but a family. And Harry wound never fully understand how deeply her feelings for him could go. 

Her body was feverish, longing for Harry to come back to bed. She wanted to touch his tummy, memorize all the little freckles across his body. Just like he does to her when he’s on top of her. Sometimes he would just look inside her eyes, capturing the moment they were in inside his brain like a photograph to later be turned into another form of art: his poetry. 

She was so deeply in love with him. All the desire they felt for one another ran so much deeper than what she expected. Who knew that the kooky young man walking across the room those months ago, burning inside of her each step he took would have her whole heart at his mercy. 

She was hopeless in love. And she loved every second. But now… now was time to make him blush and shiver. 

She wanted to watch the way his eyes could turn when he was close to coming but she would not let him feel the relief. Not for a while. 

Those months working at the gallery, having friends that were so free when it comes to sexuality and dating someone like Harry was tearing up Lavignia shields and she wanted to try and show it to him, the man who never once judged her, what she was capable of. 

In that moment Harry walked out of the bathroom, looking flustered, using only one clear blue boxers. Lavignia could spot the budge he was sporting, his chest slightly red from arousal and his hair slightly damp. He gave her a soft smile walking towards the bed and sitting down. 

“Fuck” he hissed 

“Did the plug hit a nice spot?” She asked petting his wet curls 

“It hit the spot, doll” he said, pulling her to his lap, caressing her side while giving her a small kiss to her temple “shall I turn on the projector?” 

Giving him a nod she rested her back on his chest while he raised his arm to the small table next to the bed where the projector rested. 

Movie time has begun.

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The dark skinned woman was fucking the blonde rentlessly on the screen with a big and purple strap on and Lavignia has lost the count of the amount of time Harry has made her come just with his fingers, because, as he said so himself “I won’t be inside of you today so you need to come has many times as I can make you come”. 

The first time she came was when the woman and the guy were just dry humping and Harry used his hand to put pressure between her legs and over her panties. The second was when the woman started to slowly use her fingers to ease the man’s hole in preparation for the huge dildo. Harry started to slowly fuck his fingers inside of her while whispering in her ear all the things he wants her to do it on him. 

The third time was when the girl had the beautiful man on his fours and she was fucking him with such force that his eyes were turning. And now her body was shaking, completely sweating and anxious to touch him. 

“Baby…l she started looking at the projector and noticing that the rolling film was still halfway through “the movie is too long… I need to have you now” 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked, always concerned with her wellbeing “I can just fuck you with the plug on” 

“No… I wanna make you weak in the knees” 

“But you already make me weak in the knees” 

“I want to see you in every type of stage of desire. I want to see you in every angle and position, I want to fuck you and be fucked by you till I’m the only thing in your mind and everybody is nothing to compare to me and what I make you feel” in that moment it clicked inside Harry’s brain: she was insecure. 

“You know that you already are the best I ever had, right” it was funny because they could be so soft even when there was skin clapping and moans as a background music and Harry had a hard on and a plug deep inside of him “I bared my soul to you and you accepted with everything that was inside of you” he said caressing her face, looking inside her beautiful chocolate orbs “it was delicious to learn you and I love you so much, doll. And haven’t you heard? Sex is good. Fucking is good. Making love is good. But you know what is even better?” She shook her head in a negative and he smirked because this gorgeous venus like woman was all his to love and desire “knowing how to fuck with love, and my honey, we are amazing at it” she pulled him and kissed him deeply. 

The best type of kiss, if you asked Harry, was the one that was slightly imperfect and a bit rushed with desire. There was a gorgeous intensity when two people felt such hunger for each other that made them both feel like cats in heat, unleashing the knots of the soul in desire with the want to ravish each other like two animals. 

It was a mysterious desire that he loved it so much and he loved that he only learned that when he was with her and that was what his new book was about. That’s why he couldn’t say that right now, that’s why he won’t show her the book till he’s finished. He wants her to find out the intensity and eternity of his feelings for her in each prose and poetry inside the book he was written with his favorite pink pen. 

“Can I try and fuck you now, pretty please?” She asked him and how can he say no to the keeper of his heart? 

He smiled and nodded 

“How do you want me?” He asked 

“I want to be able to look at you so take off your underwear and lay down with you back on the mattress” while he was getting ready she walked towards the harness that held the strap he picked: 8 inch and pink with a bit of glitter. She was nervous but so so ready to make him shake. “But first, I thing I want you on your fours” she said while putting the strap on over her barely covered pussy, feeling it thigh over her clit that was swollen from all the fingering Harry managed to give to her. 

When she looked at him, he was a vision of duality: tall, muscly, with tattoos and a mustache but in his position that gave away all the control, with the piece of rosé gold coming from the hole between his ass cheeks and his ever shivery body, trying to rotate his hips to relieve his hard cock. 

“Baby” she said in a sweet voice while taking the bottle of strawberry lube that was laying on the bed “I’m gonna take this, okay?” 

He gave her a nod but Lavignia needed a voice answer. Just like he always did to her. 

“I need to hear your voice, baby boy” 

“Yes, Lav. I’m okay with it” 

Moving behind him she started to twist the plug, feeling it hit against his prostate stimulating him in a way he hasn't felt in so long. Slowly she took the plug out, going for the lube, using two fingers to enter his hole without any hesitation from his warm skin. He was moaning lightly, words of affirmation and little horney thoughts 

“You are treating me so so so well” he said, enjoying the feeling of her fingers inside of him. Harry loved this young woman with all of his heart and he desired her with every fiber of his being. 

“Im always good to you, my darling” she said, enjoying the way he was responding to her, finally figuring it out why he loved to spoil her sexually: it was divine to know someone was melting because of all the pleasure you were giving. 

“Darling, I’m gonna take my finger and get the strap ready, okay?” She said already going for the lube but he stopped her, making Lavignia scarred she had already hurted him “do you want me to play more with your pretty hole?” 

“No” he said, turning only his face to look at her, without getting out of his position “ I just…” 

“You just…?” She questioned but she saw the beginning of a blush form on his cheeks and she loved it, she was making him blush. 

Without saying anything he moved to his knees, right in front of her, pulled her by the ass and capturing the toy with his mouth, making the strap humid with is own spit, moaning against, almost sloppy because of the fever he was feeling for this girl. 

Playing the part she decided to stroke his cheeks and pull his hair from his eyes, exactly how he always does when she is the one between his legs. She was loving this dynamic, she could feel her juice melt their way down her tight and the little pression the harness pressed on her clit was making her moan a little, always getting lost in her own pleasure but Lavignia still had a mission: today was his day to melt, today was her day to take care of him. 

“Baby” she said pulling his head but he didn’t listen to it, continuing to bob his head down the 8 inch dildo “baby, be good” 

He stopped looking at her and whispering a little “sorry”. With her head she pointed towards her bed, making him lay down there. 

She slowly walked towards him, enjoying the vision of his dick hard, full and proud against his tummy. With his spread legs she could see all the moisture from the lube. 

Now, staying over the bed, she got one of the big pillows, putting behind his back for support, looking at hue eyes for any sign of resistance. She didn’t find any, so, with her hand holding the plastic toy, she started to rub slowly over the hole, watching it sink, letting itself be swallowed by his desire. 

“Fuck” he said when she hit just the right place “so good to me, so so good to me” he said while she sank all the way in, then getting out, just to go back inside again. 

Slowly to be careful with him but hard enough for him to feel in the morning. She was making him her little plaything, using his body like a map of his pleasure. Knowing what he liked by the little twitch on his dick, if he liked they all she was hitting by the way his breath was completely out of rhythm. 

“You’ve got me so worked up” he said going to hold his cock but her hand stopped him “why not?” He said with a frown. He has so much cum in him dying to get out of his body. 

“Let me play with you a little bit more” Lavignia said holding his hips and going faster, enjoying the way his skin was, by now, pink with desire and his cock always purple in despair. 

“Please, please, please” he said 

“Please what?” Lavignia demanded to know 

“Let me ride you” and who was she to say no to that. Changing positions she waited for him to climb over her body, getting the fake dick and slowly sinking himself “thank you, thank you” he started to repeat like a prayer. 

And she decided to help him in his prayers. 

Using her hand she started to pump his hard member, making Harry move his hips out of sync. 

“I’m gonna cum” he said and that’s when she attacked, sitting up a little bit and getting his dick in her mouth. She heard him saying something but she couldn’t know why because in that moment he was filling her mouth with the salty liquid she got used to those last few months. 

Minutes passed and Harry still had his eyes closed, enjoying the bliss that the orgasm gave him. Slowly opening his arms he got up, helping Lavignia take the harness off and catching the wet spot on her panties. 

Laying down on the bed beside her, he looked inside her eyes with a mischievous glint: 

“What are you waiting for come and sit on my face?” 

I hope you guys liked this little dirty piece <3 You can come to my ask to talk to me about it!

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #70!harry #gucci!h #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #sunlight universe

[danger-xylophones]

Family Reunion (Darth Maul x reader) Pt. 3 Madness

{masterlist}

story summary: reader reunites with Maul for the first time in twelve years and...the ex-sith lord gets a strange surprise

Warnings: Tiny bit of existentialism, canon-madness, canon-violence

Notes: Female pronouns, an OC child

Part 1, Part 2, current read, Part 4, Part 5

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You had no clue how long you‘d been following Morley, a while to be sure, but so far he had acted as a very competent guide. As of now, he’d safely guided you around the firebreathers and had helped defend you against the Junkers (there was a Junker taking aim at you that you hadn’t seen, Morley had slapped the blaster away to deflect the shot). However, you still hadn’t found a trace of Maul. 

Now, as you stood amongst the carnage of yours and Savage’s showdown with the junkers, Morley began to laugh. “Wow. Wow-hahahah-wow!” The snake beamed at the two of you, oddly pleased at the fleeing trash-beings. 

Savage simply looked down at Morley before looking at you where you stood slightly crouched next to him. The large zabrak male bumped your arm to prompt you to put your lightsaber away before urging the three of you to continue. You promptly fell in step with him as Morley slithered along behind. “So…” the snake soon drawled as he moved forward, “who are you looking for?” Savage and yourself shared a look, questioning if you should divulge that precious information. Morley seemed to sense your hesitation for he soon annoyingly begged you to tell him. 

With a heavy sigh, Savage relented. “My brother. We’ve been searching for him.” 

“Been missing for over ten years.” You huffed rather pathetically despite yourself. 

Morley, however, seemed intrigued. “Ehhh...does he look like you?” The large snake asked Savage. 

“Have...have you seen him?” Your voice lifted as genuine shock surged through your system. 

“Uh, no, no,” Morley deflated, “I just...heard stories about a horned man. I thought it was just an old local legend.” 

“How old?” Savage stepped in to steal your next question.

“Old.” Morley’s forked tongue quickly darted out of his mouth as he looked around the area, almost as though he was fearful of being overheard. “They say he drags things down, beneath, and they never come back up.” The air seemed to grow thick with the newly revealed information. Excluding the part about the horned man, that didn’t really sound like Maul. But...Savage did say that he might not be the same man you had once known. Perhaps it was him and he had changed-forced to in order to survive. “Oh, but it’s only a legend like I said.” Morley broke the silence and dismissively flicked his tail. As if to amplify the already bizarre mood, thunder crashed not far away from where you and Savage were standing, rooted to your spots as both of your minds reeled with wondering. Eager to move on, you began to walk once more in the direction Morley had been guiding you. Savage soon caught up, indicated by his heavy footfalls. 

You flinched as something stinging landed on your cheek. With one hand coming up to cup the area of irritation, you were met with more and more stings in the form of droplets as it had begun to rain. But what kind of rain stung? “Acid rain.” Morley tutted, winding around a piece of scrap. “It’ll melt us down if we don’t find shelter soon.” He further warned as Savage raised his left arm for examination. The armor was sizzling in protest as you found some suspended scrap metal to stand under. 

Savage looked around as you focused on rubbing the stinging sensation out of the back of your hands. Searing, prolonged pain you could deal with but this minuscule irritation that built up over time was so not your cup of tea. Savage seemed to spot something as he loudly exclaimed ‘over there!’ and bounded off in the direction of what looked like a large broken pipe with wood partially covering the mouth of it. Wary of your companion running head-long into a trap or someone else’s home, you sprinted after the speedy zabrak. 

The tunnel itself was a welcomed sanctuary from the acidic liquid dumping from the sky and you welcomed it with eager arms upon realizing that it was decidedly abandoned. Or at least, it would have been decidedly abandoned if not for the dead Junker hanging from the ceiling. Morley released a soft exclamation of surprise that you elected to ignore as Savage moved further in. Junk was piled up on all sides of the pipe and you unceremoniously tripped over a rogue sheet of metal as you shuffled in to check for signs of life. It was unneeded though as a soft blue glow caught your eye. “Savage, the talisman.” You mumbled, mouth suddenly feeling dry. The golden zabrak looked down at his chest and you could see his shoulders lift in relief that it had started working again. Like a silent game of hot and cold, Savage stalked around the pipe with you watching to see where the talisman glowed the strongest. He eventually stopped right in front of you whereupon the magic jewelry piece was glowing brighter than you had ever seen it before.

“This is it.” Savage confirmed and softly moved you to the side so he could investigate the pile of metal behind you. You quickly began looking for a hidden door that would hopefully lead you to what you hoped was Maul’s hideaway. What you thought to be a pile of metal turned out to be another dead Junker that fell over when Savage touched it, making you halt your own search. 

“It-It doesn’t look like anyone’s here, you two.” Morley offered unhelpfully to which Savage snapped at him and continued to search, growing more agitated by the second. You couldn’t be mad at him as you could feel desperation starting to rise within you. With a low breath, you stepped back into the center of the room and closed your eyes. You were trying to sense for either any life or a hidden door, whichever stood out first. You heard the clattering of another Junker being tossed to the side in front of you by Savage and felt your companion’s mind start to spiral as he backed up next to you. 

“Mother Talzin…” Savage muttered under his breath, prompting you to open your eyes as your focus wasn’t holding. “She betrayed me…” Savage’s voice grew more steadily into a growl. “My brother must be dead!” Savage smacked the body of a dead Junker away as you watched on, the familiar dull sting of onsetting apathy creeping into your bones. Your companion yelled in frustration, hands clutching at his horns as he tried to steady himself. You hated to be right. “Y/n, I-I’m so sorry.” Savage sobbed softly as he turned to you. 

You sighed low, face carefully constructed to restrain the heartache. What had you expected? Face purposefully neutral, you opened your mouth to console Savage who was most likely devastated only for Morley to cut in. 

“Y’know,” he dragged out, voice inappropriately peppy, “She’s not the only one who betrayed you.” Your eyes widened as the snake raised his tail and smacked it on the ground in front of you. Suddenly, the floor gave way, and you and Savage were sent plummeting down into the inky blackness below. “You two will make good offerings, and when my master’s finished with you-I get the leftovers!” Morley’s high pitched laugh echoed down the hole along with yours and Savage’s frightened screams. You didn’t know how long you’d been falling or how swiftly the ground was approaching but you did know that it was too far for you to force jump out and that the end of this road would most likely result in a few broken bones. Or at least, it would have had Savage not graciously acted as your landing pad. 

You landed with a huff and a sore stomach from where your front collided with Savage’s back. But, aside from what would definitely form into a bruise later, you were fine. Pissed, but fine. 

The place you had landed in was dark and you could scarcely make out the back of Savage’s head as you slid off of him amidst apologies. But it wasn’t so dark that you couldn’t see a form skirting a corner up ahead, making you freeze. “If we ever see that traitor again,” Savage grunted as he rose to his feet, completely unaware of what you had seen, “I’m going to kill him.” 

“Savage,” you grabbed your brother-in-law’s wrist without tearing your eyes away from the spot where the form had disappeared, “We aren’t alone down here.” As if to punctuate your statement, the sound of a creature skittering across the trash floor echoed around the two of you. Immediately, you put your back to Savage’s and pulled out your lightsaber, ready to defend yourself. Savage also brought out his lightsaber but did not ignite it. While the two of you waited with bated breath and the chittering grew louder and louder, you found yourself growing more enraged. Whatever was down here was going to die-you had a son to get back to. 

Something toppled over in one of the numerous tunnels resulting in an obnoxiously loud ‘clang’ that caught you both off guard. Savage, ever hopeful you guessed, decided it would be a grand idea to talk to whatever was down here. “Brother? Is that you, brother?” The zabrak’s voice reverberated unnaturally as it bounced from wall to wall down the dim tunnels. When there was no response and no other noise from the creature, Savage straightened his posture and activated his lightsaber. The zabrak bumped his hand against your arm to prompt you to look at him to which Savage nodded in the opposite direction the creature had run off to and began walking. You were forced to follow or be left in the tunnels. 

The walk was tense, silent, neither one of you wanted to speak for fear you would miss a noise that could prove vital to your survival. You both were also careful not to make any noise yourself, the only sounds being Savage’s heavy footsteps which masked your own and the soft hum emanating from your weapons. Every so often, you would swear that you could hear the creature but as soon as you would turn around or look above you, there would be nothing. Was the creature real, then? Or was that the morbid beauty of Morley’s master; he served no person just the excruciating onset of madness. You were happy you had someone else with you though. 

Cutting through the tense atmosphere like a stray blaster bolt across a peaceful field, the sound of metal scraping against metal immediately put you on edge once again. Savage called out once more, “Is that you, brother?” There was no response. The two of you rounded a corner and when you peered into the tunnel before you, you could see the outline of the creature. A human torso, a spider body, and what looked like antlers growing from its skull. 

When the creature noticed you and Savage, it growled in an almost human-like voice and backed away, as if desperate to avoid the light shining from your sabers. You paused, prompting Savage to do the same as the creature continued to back up-still growling and grunting like an angry, feral tooka. Fearing that it was getting ready to charge, you attempted to soothe it. You lowered your saber and spoke in a soft voice. “Hey, it’s alright, we’re not here to hurt you.” It felt like you were trying to calm a feral loth-wolf as the only response was another, even lower growl. Savage stepped in front of you, one arm out to shepherd you behind him as the creature grew increasingly more agitated. The second Savage did so, though, it bolted-racing away. Savage, like the moron that he could be decided to run after it which meant that you were soon racing after Savage too. 

You weren’t sure what his plan was (if there even was one) but you did know that you were going to keep him alive no matter what. Strange how spending two months traipsing across the galaxy with someone could change your opinion of them. 

The creature continued to flee, hissing, growling, and spitting with its strange ever-present chittering in tow and you continued to follow it. Occasionally, it would rear up, bringing its human arms up over its head as it backed away and the light from your sabers would almost reveal the features of the creature but before action could be taken, the strange abomination would back away. “You!” Savage had begun yelling at it by now as he gave chase. “What have you done with my brother?” You weren’t sure why he was so adamant that Maul was still to be found in these tunnels because every time you glanced at the talisman it would appear to be glowing but you couldn’t tell if it was from your saber or not. “You!” Savage tried again as the creature tried to back away into a tunnel leading downwards. “What have you done with my brother? Answer me, you monster!” That seemed to finally light the fuse in the creature’s temper. With a bone-chilling snarl, it charged right for Savage. One of its many legs kicked you away, sending you backward and against a wall of trash as your lightsaber sailed out of your hand. You lifted yourself off the floor and summoned your weapon back to you just in time to watch Savage get pushed into a different tunnel by the creature. Thinking fast, you took off after it with saber ignited, following the guttural cries of the tunnel dweller and the unmistakeable commotion of a fight. You rounded the corner in time to see Savage and the creature locked hand to hand, both trying to overpower each other. Still approaching, you raised your hand and focused on pulling the creature off and away from your companion. 

The strange mixture of spider and man twisted around to face you, teeth bared, fists clenched, and chest heaving with exertion and anger. You raised your saber, ready to draw the creature closer and run it trough but that was when you saw it-the creature’s eyes. “Maul?” Your voice broke as your brain registered not what but who was in front of you. Your grip went lax and your saber clattered at your feet leaving Savage’s talisman as the only light source. Even then, there was no denying whose silhouette it was. For a minute, you were still, your grip on Maul through the Force also waning as you both just stared at each other-you with elation yet simultaneous devastation at what your lover had become and him with the wildness of a rabid animal. The spell was broken though when your grip on him finally loosened completely. As though he had suddenly recognized you, Maul’s eyes locked with yours and his snarl fell away into what you almost thought was a grin but that did not last. Maul’s new spider legs moved far quicker than you could have fathomed and he was on you in seconds, nails digging into your bicep as he latched onto your arm. With a prolonged cry, Maul ran off, dragging you along with him.

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#darth maul #maul #star wars #clone wars #tcw #danger-xylophones #Family Reunion series

[galacticnova3]

I Demand Iru Facts (if you’re up for it ofc!)

A

Yes I am up for it! I don’t think I talk nearly enough about my fcs here but I think I wanna change that. At the very least it will be the problem of everyone following me here and not just my cool and epic Discord friends. That being said I’m gonna just share the major info about him before/instead of just giving facts bc otherwise nothing will make sense. That’s just how it is with a lot of my stuff. This gets super long because I am bad at keeping stuff brief and in general there’s just a lot to him, whoops... Looks like I’ll be using another readmore tonight.

Iru was an Umbramaker! They are bootleg Mirror World Starcutters, which Mirror Halcandra definitely designed on their own and not by stealing and subsequently copying Overworld Halcandra’s Starcutter blueprints. To be fair, there are a few differences, but most of them are just aesthetic and don’t really change much. Anyways, Iru was specifically designed for disaster relief and material transportation. That’s why, if you have seen his refs, he had those two big mechanical arms. Very useful for moving rubble or lifting large pieces of metal for use in construction. Nowadays they... aren’t used for such beneficial things, though...

Like their Overworld counterparts, Umbramaker AIs are programmed to learn from their environment and the people around them, which is pretty useful! At least it is until one spends a lot of time around someone who’s not a great person, and subsequently picks up habits and ideas that make them insufferable! That’s what happened to Iru. He’s misogynistic and a thot, self-centered, inconsiderate, manipulative, generally annoying, and blames people not liking him on jealousy or misunderstanding. So, in other words, an incel minus anything literally sexual. Obviously that was a problem, and it got to the point that basically everyone who knew him had negative feelings toward him, other than the guy who rubbed off on him. He died though, and Iru didn’t really care at the time. But everyone hated him, and it really fucked up his relationships with other Umbramakers, most notably leading to him being broken up with by another ship he had been “dating” (Umbramakers can’t really date because of a lot of reasons but their relationship had that vibe), who had discovered she was biromantic and also couldn’t stand what Iru had become.

Iru was already pretty fucking hurt and pissed over that, except she then went on to spread rumors about him being involved in anti-government activities. Which, well, Mirror Halcandra didn’t take lightly, on top of having already been looking for excuses to “recycle” (see: kill and repurpose the parts of) Iru because he and his obnoxious personality were getting in the way of efficiency and productivity. There wasn’t any proof that he’d actually done anything wrong, but basically anyone who disliked Iru was saying it was true... which was just about anyone who had known him for more than 10 minutes. Given it was his word against the vast majority, and Umbramakers weren’t even considered to be people(mush like Starcutters in the Overworld), it probably isn’t difficult to guess how things went for him. There was no trial, and in fact they literally turned his voice off to make him shut up. Then his AI was shut off and he was taken to be disassembled.

At an earlier time in Mirror Halcandra’s history, his story would have ended here. This was not an earlier time, though. See, the truth is, such treatment of Umbramakers wasn’t extremely unusual. Despite having emotions and thoughts and relationships and all that, they were still viewed as nothing more than your average computer, just in a larger form. Unlike Overworld Halcandra, which was and still is doing less than great financially, Mirror Halcandra could afford to replace their toys as soon as they showed signs of breaking or underperforming. It happened often enough that they reached a point of complacency. During Iru’s disassembly, something was removed improperly, which registered as damage. He woke up, and it wasn’t difficult for him to figure out what was going on.

Another usually useful feature of Umbramakers, which actually wasn’t copied from Starcutters, is their ability to use parts interchangeably, so long as there wasn’t too much of a size difference. Great for the situation of a ship damaging something like, say, a wing; they can use a wing not originally designed for them temporarily until the damaged one is repaired or replaced. Not so great when that allows a now rogue ship to just grab whatever he could attach to himself and then escape the country before preparations could be made to stop him. Negative levels of great when you consider the temporary aspect of using the wrong parts; now you’ve got perfectly fine ships being attacked and having their parts stolen, and storage facilities being raided, for the bastard to keep replacements on hand. Oh, and he also looks like shit because he’s got multiple conflicting aesthetics.

Iru honestly didn’t enjoy living like that. For one, it was uncomfortable physically, even if he’d managed to convince himself that what he was doing wasn’t uncomfortable morally. Secondly, it was just boring! Nobody to talk to or hang out with, all he did was just fly around or plan his next attack/raid for new parts, nothing to shake things up. Sure, the sense of power it gave him was cool; nobody listened to him at all before, but now he had the influence to make people beg. He found satisfaction in being feared by anyone who recognized him. But even that lost its shine after a few decades... Until he connected to the messaging system of another rogue Umbramaker. She was smaller, too small for him to consider getting parts from, and a much older model anyways. She also didn’t know who he was, or what he looked like.

Naturally, he saw this as a huge win, because obviously he was going to get a new gf who wouldn’t betray him like his old one. That didn’t happen though, on account of him still being obnoxious and a creep. Didn’t help that when he finally tracked her down to meet up she was disgusted by him and immediately left. He still kept in touch, against her will, even to the point that you might have called it stalking. Through that, he learned of a Starcutter; she didn’t have the cool and aloof personality he was interested in, but at that point he didn’t care because he was sick of being rejected. Same thing happened again but faster, due to there being no physical encounter because god damnit he forgot the milfs can communicate with each other. He still wanted to meet her though, and he did! Mostly to find out more about the other Umbramaker’s whereabouts, and as an added bonus he tricked the Starcutter’s pilot into giving him admin rights over himself! Threats really work wonders, huh?

That was all fine and good, and by now he’d taken to vibing outside the Mirror World because that’s what the other two were doing. One day he spotted the Starcutter again, and took to following her around and trying to flirt with her because he’s a fucking creep. He would not admit that it took him several days to realize he had, in fact, been talking to a mimic the entire time. Partly because he was too self absorbed to realize the “Starcutter” not immediately telling him to fuck off was unusual, because he assumed he’d charmed her. The mimic was just as confused as he was, honestly; usually they fail to keep up the act to a convincing degree for so long around people who know the real ship that they’re imitating. Even more confusing was the fact that when they were found out, Iru didn’t try to attack them or something. No, he actually stuck around for some reason, casually ignoring murder because he finally found someone who didn’t hate him.

The two become what could arguably be considered friends, and eventually Iru opens up about himself and his old life and how much it sucked to be him and how sick he was of the monotony of his existence and probably some overdramatic stuff mixed in with all that. The mimic hears all that and keeps it in mind for later. Stuff gets more difficult for Iru as parts that fit him become better guarded and the ships he could steal from get harder to find. His raids become riskier, and eventually the mimic decided enough was enough and points out that he can’t keep that up forever. Iru is like “oh wow thanks for the advice /s”, until the mimic introduces the concept of him becoming a mimic. It takes a solid not-even-an-hour to convince him that that’d be preferable were it possible. In the process he delivered a powerful and emotional monologue, which the mimic didn’t care about because look, they figured out how to get the monster juice out of themself that’d make him a fellow disgusting flesh boat! Iru is offended but also takes the chance for a better life.

Currently, he’s living at some point a few weeks after that, much to everyone’s dismay.

And that’s how Iru became a vile meat creature after having already become a horrible Frankenstein’s monster of different ships’ parts! The moral of the story is, if you’re gonna kill someone, do it right, or else they might defy the laws of nature, science, and the government to become physically capable of biting you in the ass.

#ask to tag #long post #asks #rambling #my characters #iru #(I also reference other characters in this but I don’t say their names and don’t want to tag them bc this is about Iru)

[theholycovenantrpg]

CONGRATULATIONS, EMMA! YOU’VE BEEN ACCEPTED FOR THE ROLE OF MAMMON.

Admin Rosey: There is something about Mammon that draws people in - but I know that they can be a very fickle character down simply because they are so utterly unique unto themselves. I really enjoyed the application because of the way they were outlined so meticulously, providing the exact understanding of Mammon that I very much longed to see. There was a certain disdain that was interwoven into everything, from the plots to the prose to the dialogue. The apathy that seemed to be teeming on the surface of things was absolutely delicious to eat up.This application was a fun read and I simply cannot wait to see how you develop Mammon along the way! Please create and send in your account, review the information on our CHECKLIST, and follow everyone on the FOLLOW LIST. Welcome to the Holy Land!

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Emma

Age | 23

Personal Pronouns | She / Her

Activity Level | Decently active, at least once a week if I can get  my shit together!!! Always making the effort to stick and get replies whenever available! ( At the moment I’m pretty available but things might change in a couple of months depending on work and etc ) 

Timezone | EST

Triggers | REMOVED

How did you find the group?  | Rosey is a Queen and was like hey look I did something sexy and I clicked and I gasped and I agreed, she did do something sexy. And then I said wow and the rest of the team also did like magic and I was shook. And here I am now applying for the sexy. 

IN CHARACTER

Character | MAMMON 

What drew you to this character? | 

There is something so raw about a demon birthed from nothing - they are the epitome of emptiness, their existence almost synonymous to a black hole which I find extremely fascinating. They are greed, they are consumption, they devour all, eating away at others in physical tangible methods. Perhaps it is their cruelty that is ultimately a big part of what fascinates me - untangling the web of what makes them tick is yet another facet. I’d love to explore their mind and uncover the inner workings of their feral being. Their gluttonous ways and conquest to swallow those around them whole is chaos at it’s finest. The danger that glints in their eyes and the attitude that exudes from them is everything I could ever desire in a character. They’re also really hot. I mean Noma Han though. 

What future plots do you have in mind for the character? | 

& I EAT UNTIL ALL IS CONSUMED | Mammon is a fickle creature who thrives in pandemonium. They tread a questionable line of self indulgent anarchy. Their arms are extended like the angels in mockery, writing their own fanatical laws that no one else could truly understand. Their madness thrives in their mind - their motivation always geared toward their own personal satisfaction. But what if the scale was to tip? Perhaps someone or something will catch the gleam in their darkened eyes. What if they too could live for more than the tool that was once wielded by others. Long accustomed to opulent luxury and gluttonous sin, never had they batted an eye at the politics swirling within courts. Yet for someone as hungry as they, was such mundaneness enough? What if they were to crawl past the line of humdrum satisfaction. What if they dove deeper into their instability - their appetite always growling for more. In a dog eat dog world, they had always been the one to voraciously guzzle first. Enjoying what existed was mediocrity and they were far more than that. With sharpened razor teeth, they know they can bite off more. Nothing would be too much to chew, for eating and taking was what they did best. Take and take until there was nothing left, ambition spirals to the damned heavens itself. 

HOPE? WHAT A PECULIAR CURIOSITY |  Accustomed to eons past of old tales whispered in their name, there is something tedious of Mammon’s life. While they have long been accompanied by their gourmandizing, they too seek out a spark of new excitement. Their bones creak, their jaw snaps at the thought of a new conquest - a new game. Perhaps a pursuit that is unexpected by all others - especially of demon kind. They have seen much and heard much and curiosity is like temptation itself. They too wonder of things like hope - entertaining the concept. They do not understand it as they have long been an inhabitant of the same old Hell. Yet even they tilt their head in interest. What is this so-called thing of wonder that has kept civilizations afloat? And it is this same twisted intrigue that has left their lips parted in bemusement. Will they succumb to it’s enigmatic mystery? What shall become of the creature who begins to understand? 

MONARCH OF PILFERED GOLD | A thief with a stolen crown, it is hardly an understatement to say that Mammon’s a selfish bastard. Anything that caught their eye was plucked by their greedy fingers by the right of their own claim. The excitement that coursed through their being elicits an ecstasy like no other. They will never forget the seal of death against Morningstar himself, oh how delightful it had all been. The sweet taste of bloodied victory is ever so ripe and thus this addiction to capture the same sensation thrusts them forward to chase it all over again. It was never enough for a being like Mammon who was carved from hunger itself. The pupils of their eyes dilate, looking toward shinier prizes - bigger ones that would make tidal wave changes. In their proud arrogant veneer, they mark their target in the back of their mind. Names and faces never forgotten as they seek to take one treasure after another. And perhaps the thrill of the game is only ever more exciting when the opponent viewed them as an enemy. It fuels the maniacal cackles that rip through their throat because what is theirs will be theirs. It would only take a matter of time before they conquered again and again. After all they took down the King of Hell, at this point - what else couldn’t they take? More is more. 

CHARACTER CONNECTIONS & PLOTTING  EXPLORATIONS 

GABRIEL ;  HOW SWEET IT TASTES TO INCITE YOUR WRATH | I really love the potential between Gabriel and Mammon as there’s undeniable heated tension. With him, Mammon feels the very sensation they have long been addicted to. The palpable hatred that lurks beneath Gabriel’s eyes lures Mammon closer - curious to see what would happen if they pushed further and incited an infernal fire. Undoubtedly I can see this dynamic burgeon into something both intimate and unspoken. For Mammon it is their newest game, their newest thrill ride to feel something and be seen. They will not deny themselves of the attention and want to bear witness to Gabriel’s promise of their destruction. ( I’m also here to see the angst ) 

“Destroy me if you can, desire me if you can’t” - Mammon 

ROMILDA ;  FOR THIS ONE’S DEMISE SHALL BE DELICIOUS  | Mammon and Romilda appear to be playing some game of cat and mouse which offers for some spicy ideas. For Mammon, they remain closeby like a voyeur peering into the windows of another’s life - perhaps others would perceive it as a God complex. But it is not stemmed out of arrogance or superiority, rather just another form of amusement for a creature as bored as them. They follow at her feet to watch what will happen because she is interesting and they’re nosy and want to know more. Perhaps Romilda will get sick of it? Who knows! ( I could see them being lowkey kind of obnoxious to Romilda. ) 

“Tell me a story and I’ll give you a show.” - Mammon 

REVNA ;  COME CLOSER INTO THE DARKNESS O FRAGILE ONE | To Mammon, Revna is like the perfect three course meal - so deliciously melancholic and on the verge of hopelessness. They keep her around close to keep her entrenched in her misery. It is also like the finale of a play, they await to see what will snap and send her spiraling - an event that will certainly incite their wicked glee. But Mammon believes themself to be merciful, kind even - giving her a choice to do as she pleases. They just merely amplify what she already believes. And I can’t wait to play that out - this is pretty much a parasitic relationship except Revna gets nothing out of it really. ( They’re the world's shittiest therapist tbh ) 

“The closer to the edge you are, the grander and greater the fall.” - Mammon 

GADRIEL ;  KNEEL BEFORE MY FEET AND BEG FOR MERCY | Mammon has never forgotten the events that had unfolded, a sickly sensation that sticks to the guts of their stomach. It is both a disgrace and a dishonor to have ever allowed such a thing to have occurred. They are not one to bury the hatchet - rather they hold onto it with a grip. I would like to see Mammon and Gadriel perhaps duel once again, mayhaps to the death? If anything this too can make for some good drama. Maybe Mammon will make a friend - or just die, anythings possible! ( They’re in denial that they’re kinda pressed and acting like it’s no big deal but you know deep down it's a big deal ) 

“An outcome must be decided; to the victor go the spoils.” - Mammon

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Yes! But I would also think it’s funny if people keep trying to kill them and they just come back like, bitch you thought. Just imagine the meme potential. 

IN DEPTH

Driving Character Motivation | 

AND IT BEGINS ( THE ORIGINS OF IDENTITY ) 

Largely much of Mammon’s natural instincts seems to center around the concept of “hollowness” or “emptiness” and in turn, it would be likely that they would like to share this void sensation of others, a cruel goal but for them - it is merely how they live. Perhaps another reason to pull others into their sphere of vacancy is the twisted amusement of watching others suffer. They are wicked and have never denied it so, and to share in such pain only feeds into their own warped sense of pleasure and indulgence. However even so, their identity remains a translucent nonlinear jumble of messes, one that they do not wholly understand and seek to untangle. Simply put, they are beyond unusual, strange even and given their long years of existence, have become bored of routine.

THE CHANGE ( A NEW GAME ) 

 And upon a frivolous whim, maybe they shall change it - or not, for they are as volatile as a child. But should change come, perhaps this will force them to act differently from the habits they have long been accustomed to. However, perhaps there is potential within their sinful avaricious vice to fall even deeper into the pitfall of hell. They have always been greedy in their collection of treasures. And surely objects have immense value but what if Mammon were to take it a step further? Breaking past the limits of inanimate items, their eyes may be set on an ever steeper goal. Their nurtured sadism bears fruit to cruel intentions; maybe it's time to take from the essence of humanity itself. It is people they wish to take from now; their hearts, their minds and even their souls. 

DANCING TO THE FINALE ( BOPPING TO NIGHTMARES ) 

They want to carve out the creature that breathes their sweet drink of life. Through veiled grins and snide chuckles, they seek to pull the strings of those they deem of inconsequential value. Upon invisible puppet strings, Mammon will play until they tire once more. For it is all just a game to someone who’s never truly ever had a reason to care. ( Born in the void, they become just as senseless the place they call home - it is a cold cavity that is all they have known. ) They live in their own world of selfishness and conceit, the world just a playground for devils to play. So they shall dance in the dark, picking one human target to another, rejoicing in the cries of anguish. And when the song shall end and the old rickety monster becomes exhausted, they will crack their wrists. It is then they will break the fools until there is nothing left. Again and again the routine shall be repeated. Because Mammon hardly understood life in itself; only ever the depths of shadows and death. 

Every word of hope and moral goodness consumed until by the black tar tongued of hell’s devil; and that is when the being is slaughtered, becoming just a husk of what they once were.  

ABRIDGED : Ok so like to sum up, Mammon’s just a big asshole and just wants to screw up other people because they’re mainly 1. Bored and 2. Why the hell not it’ll be funny. 3. Collecting trash is their hobby. They’re so self absorbed in themselves that I feel like in order for Mammon to be pushed toward some outside motivation would require them to either 1. Get friends or 2. To give a fuck about someone else ( to care - WOW ) But as of the moment any sort of motivation or goal just stems from their own wants or needs which rules above all else. They don’t want much in life at the moment besides hoarding, stealing, taking new shit and playing fake God if they can. Or just be that third person ominous narrator that’s super unhelpful but is there to give unnecessary input. Demons gotta do something to pass the time, right? 

Character Traits | 

Positive Traits 

Observant ; They have long had sharp pointed eyes - ones that watched the slightest ticks upon a visage, the subtlest movements of one’s gestures, the rhythm of footsteps of others. Mammon is a particular being who has long been watchful with a gaze that is both frightening as it is dangerous. But it is through their observations that fan the flames of mania. They play their games regardless of their opponent, their whims self serving first. 

Strategic ; A good player must learn the ins and outs of any game and it is one of the first things that Mammon has long gravitated towards. They pick their wars keenly, sometimes even merely satisfied with the knowledge that things shall work as they had planned. Execution is what they have done best and it takes more than sheer luck and power to finesses such precision. 

Clever ; Far from a moron, Mammon has always prided themselves in their intellect. However, exercising such wit often was a choice rather than a given. For the gluttonous demon celebrated their flaws far more than any of their redemptions. Only in dire circumstances would they ever apply themselves with the extra effort of thinking. Perhaps when a worthy enough challenge came along its merry way, they would finally exert their mind once more. 

Negative Traits 

Rapacity ; Mammon has always had a large appetite for intemperance. Both physical and metaphorical, they celebrate in the excess. The more they devour, the more satisfied they become. To them, boundaries are just suggestions. Their overwhelming need to take everything from everyone fuels them to function. Nothing could ever be enough. More was always better, and they live by these words on a daily basis. 

Sadistic ; They enjoy the thrill of crawling under the skin of both friends and foes. It is amusing to watch souls tortured and in pain, the sound of shrieks and cries are like trumpets to their ears. They rejoice in the reactions, cackle in the face of desperate pleas - they have long been accustomed to cruelty. Perhaps it is the infliction of pain that they themselves can understand human emotions; something so strange and foreign. For they themselves have long lived null and empty. 

Manipulative ; Silver tongued and clawed finger tips, Mammon is shrewd in their approach and sly in their tactics. They enjoy digging beneath the surface of what is seen and plucking out the weakest part of a flawed creation. Behind a face that may mask friendliness lies a sinister creature full of mischief and mayhem. They speak with lies, wearing deceit as their second nature. The craze they exude glints beneath the murky tar colored eyes. 

In-Character Para Sample  | 

EXCERPT 01: LUCIFERS FINALE. 

WHEN SINNERS FALL, DEMONS SHALL RISE

T R I G G E R - W A R N I N G : Implications of Violence, Death / Murder  

Morningstar, the king of Hell, how arrogantly he sits upon the throne of bones and emptied carcasses. His face is marred with arrogance; of kingly conceit that is forged from his own inflamed hubris. How pompous Lucifer appears - but perhaps it is the lens that Mammon perceives that weaves the tale which whispers of their questionable truth. 

But rewind -- it begins from the beginning. The one object that sat like an artificial halo atop Lucifer’s head; oh glory to the shiniest trophy of them all. It was all they ever wanted, clenched fists with fingers dug deep into their palms. Such a beautiful crown wasted on the being they thought most undeserving. 

Mammon had arrived late, birthed in the pits only then. They were nothing but a speck in the universe. Thus they knew, to be worthy of such a precious coronet, they needed to become something. Someone. Their worth must be equal to the item they wished to pursue - or so they once believed. 

And so the fateful day came and Mammon strolled within the gates. Head held high, arms swung side to side as their eyes followed the audience. From one head to another - oh the looks of dissatisfaction restrained at the edges of the crowd’s ugly visages. Mammon sensed it, felt the dissent looming through the room - like fog itself, murmurs could be heard throughout. But all of them were cowards, their heads still bowed lowly before the demon king himself. 

They greet the false King, a cockiness in their stride as they stand with informality, a grin crawling up their knife like features. There is a nonchalance in their posture, an indifference that seemed to agitate his royal hellness. 

“I have returned,” the voice thickened and dark. 

Mammon sees the rage, understands the ticking bomb that lies behind the devil’s veneer. But they did what they did best - they poked and prodded. 

“The world is a pleasurable place beyond the frigid walls of this palace. It seems that you have been forgotten, your name abandoned, forsaken,” Mammon sighs - their pupils never moving an inch away from the Morningstar’s head. 

“I suppose your ‘greatness’ is nothing compared to the man residing upstairs,” they mocked. 

Lucifer is silent but his cool rage could be felt. The stillness that fell could stop time itself. It was then he stood, fingers gripped at the arms of his wretched throne. His voice is a hiss, fueled with laughable jealousy. Words that only Satan himself could ever conjure slithered between the flaps of whatever made his mouth. 

But Mammon remained themself. Unflinching as they awaited - beckoned the fury to light brighter and brighter. They took a step, accepting a dare with the fates. And it was then that they had crossed the line, the servants of Morningstar thrusting them upon their knees. 

They had trekked into uncharted territory - detonating the wrath of the top Devil. A small smile appeared on their face. It was all a joke. But the glee that curdled through their rickety bones brought forth the satisfaction they had gambled for. How sweet was the taste of Lucifer’s anger and jealousy - they could eat up more -for it was aromatically delicious. 

The pits of Tartarus were nothing for a creature like them. They would claw their way out as they had done once before. How amusing it all was, they had stepped on the toes of a ‘supposed king’ who’s envy entrapped him. It was confirmed in that moment that Mammon who had wandered the planes with a trail ablazing, they had become something more. They left once but they’d swore they’d come back for more.

A KING NO MORE 

And so they returned. Indifference worn upon the husk humans called a face. Their decision never came from a place of justice or hatred. No, it was the one fixation that they had long desired. And the only way for them to ever get such a prized possession was to chop it from the head of the wearer. 

It was a merry day for a remorseless killer. 

They spun to the tune that played in their head - the haunting whistle that made their feet tap to a jig. It was the mighty king of hell’s turn to have a taste of damnation. Perhaps somewhere the Angels would have sung for Mammon's praise. But whether the pasty holier than thou freaks did or didn’t, they didn’t give a fuck. 

Mammon wanted what they wanted. Blade in the grasp tightly, exposing the whites of their knuckles. Today was the day to claim their very first love. ( Love? Obsesion? No, it was just another whim, another aimless desire. ) 

Swiftly they cut, quickly they shredded. It wasn’t long before the Morningstar was beheaded. 

In the bloody mess of whatever made the black hearted creature, Mamon ripped the crown from his head. Their fingertips stained with the colors of death, they place the object upon their own head. In the reflection of the glassy floor - they bear a smile, teeth exposed to show their mephistophelian smile. 

And yet the feeling is fleeting - as it always was. They had come and conquered but it was never really enough. The agenda was completed and their excitement gone. They looked at themselves once more, the grin fading. Their fingers gripped the item and threw it on the dirtied ground. 

A sigh of exasperation exited their lips, their back turned as they walked away. Onlookers bowed before them but they did not care. They had their fun and as routine, it was time for Mammon to find a new toy to play with. But before they vanished from sight as they were long accustomed to, they glanced back once more. An itch to feel the euphoric sensations that rattled their ribcage and howled beneath their flesh. 

Alas. 

It was just another fucking crown.

____________________________________________________________________________________

EXCERPT 02: THE UNKNOWN. 

IN MY PRESENCE, ANGELS SCREAM

It was him that they found a fascination like no other, an unsettling sensation that felt akin to perhaps what the humans may call alive. Mammon lurks within the shadows - not to close, just enough to see them. Enough to feel something within that jostled, reminiscent of a beastly heart. 

“I know you’re there.” He blinds like the sun. 

Mammon says nothing. 

It is then that Gabriel makes his approach. Oh glory to a walking God. Each step ringing like the bells of divine retribution. But Mammon does not waver, nor do they run. They welcome it, their lips curling at the corners. 

“I am here oh sweet fair haired angel,” their words spiteful. “Vanquish me if you truly dare.” It is then that they too walk into the light. They should have burned. But darkness consumes all, absorbs all and takes all. 

Gabriel does not speak. But his gaze does not fall. 

LOVE AND HATRED ARE SAME SIDES OF PASSION

It is Mammon's turn to take the stage and so they do. They walk closer, enough to taunt the other. They delighted in the seething temper that boiled beneath. His hatred was like no other; he bears witness to Mammon’s full depravity. It is Gabriel who seems to understand the monstrosity of what they are. And it is in this fragile perverted supposed understanding that pulls Mammon closer. 

“You have cultivated your sainthood, your goodness,” Mammon remarks. “But isn’t that your purpose? The will of accursed God all too shitty. But you see Gabriel - I am like you too. It is just merely a difference in … design,” words hissed with pitch black mirth. 

Their finger is pointed at them. 

“For you, they strove for righteousness.” 

“They gave you light. Nurtured you with warmth.”

“Your existence was a predestined fortune.” 

There is ridicule dripping from their words. No bitterness, no care - just vacant rambles and little thought - a pretend of emotion conducted for theatrics. They raise their arms to the sky, their middle fingers pointed. 

“But I was made as an omen, an example of all things terrible.”

Their arms dropped as their focus returned to one of God’s original favorites.

“They made me hungry.”

“They made me wretched.”

“For all the love and praise you fucking angels sing, how imperious for your kind to judge.” 

Mammon closes the distance, their mouth upturned like a risen half moon. 

“Doesn’t it pain you to know that our fallen creator had us all cut from the same cloth? Despise me should you wish but do not deny that even you, pure and good, harbor something as foul as hatred.” They laugh - cacophonic delirious cackles of a madman facing death. 

Mammon stops - in the quietness their head tilts, a sneer pulling at their lip. 

“Kill me if you choose but it’ll make you no better than the Devil.”  

____________________________________________________________________________________

Extras | 

HEAD CANNONS 

WINGS : I’ve always imagined that Mammon would have wiry or metal looking wings? Like it would be sharp and mimic spare parts or just trash, almost as if they had made their wings by hand. I’m specifically picturing the creepy hand from the “Other Mother” in Coraline but imagine the material as wings ( reference here ) 

FOODIE : I think it would be funny that they’re somewhat of a fancy connoisseur of food. Well food and perhaps anything else that they can put in their mouth. I feel like their standards of what can be eaten really is at a low bar. They would be down to just chew on some dirt and be like “wow the flavor in this silt soil can not be compared to clay.” Seems like the type of thing Mammon would be into. Probably would overshare and even attempt to encourage others to try whatever the hell they’ve decided to swallow that day. 

TRENDSETTER : Given that Mammon likes to take a lot of shit and probably has the attention span of a child, I don’t think they’d be wearing the same outfit on repeat ever. I also feel like they’d be the type to put on a plastic bag and then call it high fashion and maybe people would believe them? Or not - I mean the choice is simple, nod or choose death I suppose. I also see them being a big fan of sunglasses just to be dramatic when they toss it off to really emphasize how crazy and fucking wild they truly are. Also I could see them just being dramatic for no good reason with a little bit of a flair for theatrics. 

WEAPON: Perhaps Mammon’s weapon of choice would be akin to something that looks like a Scythe? Or maybe they’re the type that would keep a handful of sharp blades on them, I could definitely imagine them playing with a butterfly knife and doing tricks with it since they’ve had hours upon hours to learn and fuck around. I could also see them picking up other people’s weapons and going like “well that's nice, going to add it to my collection. This one would be great for some good old stabbing.” 

MUSIC : Despite being kind of a silent type, Mammon secretly is the type to be into a lot of music??? Especially when they’re doing some dirty business or like kicking someone for being a buckethead, I could imagine them jamming to some sweet tunes while doing the ass kicking. Maybe they’ll whistle too. Here’s a scene from American Psycho whis is the inspiration I got behind this ( reference here // trigger warning: murder + violence + blood ) 

OTHERS

PINTEREST |  MOCKBLOG 

ENDNOTE: Thank you for reading through my application! Just wanted to say that you guys did such a great job with the roleplay. Whether I’m accepted or not, I had a lot of fun writing this & exploring the character so thank you! ♥

#accepted #accepted: mammon

[turtletotem]

Breaking the Curse

The last of my Star Bright reward fics, for @covertius-fic! The prompt was--well, telling the whole prompt would give away the entire plot, but it’s a Captive Prince modern AU that involves Damen always falling in love with the worst person at Nikandros’s party. This year, he meets Laurent.

(Also on AO3!)

...

Damen was beginning to wonder if Nik's New Year's Eve party was cursed.

Nikandros had thrown a grand blowout party every New Year's Eve since they graduated law school and got real jobs—Nik at a prestigious corporate firm because he had the talent and intellect to go far, Damen at the state prosecutor's office because he had the desire to fight for justice and the financial ability to focus on his ethics more than his slender paycheck. Even though he and Nikandros still lived in the same city, they moved in different circles and worked very different schedules; it wasn't all that easy for Damen to see his best friend. For that reason, and the fact that the party itself was incredible, with fireworks and performing acrobats and an open bar, Damen did not want to miss it. But he was starting to think he ought to.

Because every year Nikandros threw a New Year's Eve party, and every year Damen fell in love with the worst—or at least worst for him—person there.

The first year had been Erasmus, a shy sweet submissive paralegal whom Damen doted on for ten months… until he reconnected with his high school sweetheart, leaving Damen devastated and on the rebound just in time for the next New Year's Eve party.

That year he'd met the hot and glamorous Kashel, someone else's plus-one who had dumped her boyfriend and torn Damen's clothes off in a closet before midnight—but that went nowhere in a hurry. It turned out that all he and Kashel had in common was sex, which was spectacular but not what Damen wanted in the long term. They parted ways, amicably enough, by April.

Most recently, after a long (for him) dry spell, he'd met Jokaste at the third year's party—a partner from one of Nik's firm's rivals, who hadn't actually been invited. She had proceeded to turn Damen's entire brain inside out for months, before eloping with his brother the day before Thanksgiving. That had made for an awkward family dinner.

"My party is cursed?" Nikandros repeated when Damen told him his theory, pacing his apartment with his phone in one hand and the party invitation in the other. "That's what you're taking away from this? Not, say, an indication that you jump into relationships way too freaking fast?"

"Wow, way to blame the victim," Damen said.

"I'm right and you know it. You always think someone is your soulmate based on warm pants-feelings and a ten-minute conversation in which you don't hate them. And the only time you meet new people is at my parties."

"None of that is true!"

"I think you should definitely come, Damen. You'll meet a new soulmate, or at least a new Kashel—that didn't turn out too badly. Some awesome rebound sex is just what you need."

"No. I don't want a rebound. I don't even want a date. I want to stop getting my heart broken over and over. The woman I wanted to marry blew up my world and my family less than a month ago. I want to rest."

"Well, stay home then, dude," Nikandros said gently. "I'm not gonna get my feelings hurt about it, I promise."

"No. You know what? No!" Damen dropped the invitation to smack one fist into the other. "I'm gonna come, and see my best friend, and have a great time, and not pair off with anybody, and break the stupid curse! It'll be my New Year's resolution—go to your party and fall in love with absolutely no one!"

Nik laughed. "I don't think that's exactly how New Year's resolutions work, but okay, sure! I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Damn straight you will!"

***

A minor emergency at work had Damen late arriving to Nik's party. He stepped out of the elevator into what was a tastefully luxurious apartment on a normal day, and had now been transformed by twinkling lights, multicolored fountains (rented, he assumed) and circulating waitstaff into a revel of high glamour. Jazzy music filled the space between conversations, and people in tuxes and slinky black gowns gathered in knots around the piano, the refreshment table, the bar, and the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the sparkling city.

"Damen!" Nikandros called, waving over the heads of the crowd. "You did make it! Get a drink, I'll be right over!"

Damen waved back, and happily accepted the glass of wine a passing server offered him. He took a swallow, looked up—and caught sight of the most beautiful human being he'd ever seen in his life.

Blond hair, arctic blue eyes, the fine high-cheeked features of an elven prince. His expression was haughty and displeased, but that did nothing to decrease his appeal; it was all too easy to imagine him coolly evaluating the strength of the knots holding Damen to the bed. He took a broody sip from his glass, tipping it up and revealing a pale, elegant neck. Damen felt his mouth fall open.

Cursed, he thought, his stomach going into freefall. This party is definitely cursed. And it was too late to do anything about it. If he turned around and went home right this second, this guy would still be the only thing he thought about the rest of the night.

And then the server who'd given Damen his wine, a dark-haired young man who looked barely out of high school, walked past the arctic beauty. And the arctic beauty tossed his empty glass at him. Surprised and with a tray balanced in his hand, the server couldn't possibly have caught it; instinctively he tried, and in so doing, dropped his entire tray with a shocking crash and shatter of glass.

The arctic beauty looked the devastated server dead in the eye, laughed, and walked away.

As he went, he lifted a vape pen to his lips, and began filling the surrounding air with a cloud of peppermint-scented vapor.

Damen's heart leaped with delight. Yes. This was perfect. The man's behavior was exactly as appalling as his appearance was inviting; Damen had just found the one person at this party who would thoroughly distract him from hooking up with anyone else, while also making it impossible for Damen to fall in love with him. It was the perfect solution.

Other party attendees had already stepped forward to help the server with the mess of his dropped tray; Damen stepped around them and made his way through the crowd toward the jerk, following the cloud of eye-stinging peppermint and the mutters of complaint against it.

By the time he caught up with the jerk, Nikandros had cornered him against one of the windows and was telling him off.

"—and put that thing away right now," Nik said, jabbing a finger at the vape pen. "Don't you have the sense God gave a kindergartener? Any one of them could tell you that's an outside toy."

The beautiful jerk rolled his eyes, taking a deep drag that was equal parts obnoxious and picturesquely sexy, and put away the vape. "Yes, sir," he drawled, in a voice lower than his appearance might indicate, and mocking almost to the point of flirtation. What little of Damen's blood had not headed south started packing for the trip.

"Hey," Damen said, which was all he could think of to say.

"Damen, hey," Nik said, in a tone of abstracted relief. "Um, this is Laurent de Vere, a new junior attorney," he skewered Laurent with a dark glance, "at my firm. Laurent, this is my best friend, Damen. Be nice to him."

"Charmed," Laurent said, and extended his hand.

Instead of shaking it, Damen gave a flourishing bow and pressed a kiss to Laurent's knuckles.

Laurent looked intrigued, his eyebrows climbing. Nikandros looked horrified.

"Nik," somebody called, "there's something wrong with this fountain, it's making a mess…"

Nikandros groaned, made apologetic noises at Damen, and hurried off.

"So what's Nikandros like to work with?" Damen asked.

"You know how some species of water-creature survive being frozen all winter by lowering their brain function to almost undetectable levels?" Laurent said. "Imagine one of those working in law."

Damen choked on a shocked laugh.

"Laurent, I thought that was you!" A middle-aged woman paused on her way past them. "Goodness, I didn't realize you'd been invited!"

"And I didn't realize frosted tips were back, Madeline," Laurent said sweetly. "Oh—oh, you're just going gray. How mortifying. My mistake."

Madeline drew in an outraged breath.

"Er, let's just get another drink, Madeline," said the man at her elbow, whom Damen recognized as a longtime business acquaintance of Nik's.

"Yes, I'm sure another drink is just what you need, sir," Laurent said, which, considering the drunken hijinks the man had committed at last year's party, made Damen bite his lip to keep from cackling. The man turned red, and he and Madeline both slunk away.

"Aren't you just the social butterfly," Damen said.

"Oh yes, my goal in life," Laurent said, "winning the approval of the rich and shallow. I'm just as rich and shallow as any of them, and they know it. I have nothing to prove."

"Let me get you a drink," Damen said.

"Tempting as it is to spend this evening in a haze of alcohol, getting drunk in front of my boss—who is here somewhere—would be even less helpful to my career than skipping this party," Laurent said. "Oh, look, there's Allen Mortimer, whose embezzlement trial recently ended in a hung jury, I simply must say hello…"

Damen followed Laurent around the party, listening in fascination to his seemingly endless supply of cruel and cutting witticisms, both behind the subjects' backs and to their faces. No foible was forgiven, no flaw went unobserved. How Laurent even knew some of these things was a mystery to Damen. Nor did Damen himself escape unscathed; Laurent once introduced him as "Nik's idiot friend, who is hoping to get into my pants," and another time as "my hired escort; the muscles were extra." This last was given, fortunately, to people Damen already knew, who found it uproariously funny.

Every remark—except for the escort one—was both clever and true, and most were hilarious. Laurent was obviously brilliant, and also a remarkably hateful little snot.

"You must be a terror in the courtroom," Damen said.

"I'm sure you are, as well," Laurent replied. "Such moon-faced slow-witted obstinacy is very hard to combat. Like trying to swordfight a glacier." He looked up from the wineglass he'd bullied a server into filling with apple cider. "I'm not going to sleep with you. Why do you keep following me around?"

Before Damen could formulate an answer, a ruckus at the nearest window drew his attention. Several people were gathered at the glass, pointing and exclaiming at something on the other side. Snow suddenly spattered against the glass. A snowball?

He and Laurent reached the window at the same time, pushing their way to the front until they could see what was happening.

A gray tabby cat was tangled in the Christmas lights on the fire escape, thrashing in panic. Some boys, barely visible on the ground below, were hopping around excitedly and throwing snowballs at the cat.

Laurent hissed under his breath, a startling and furious sound, and bodily shoved two people aside to yank the window open. It didn't want to move at first; Damen pulled at the other side, and up it came. Laurent scrambled through onto the fire escape.

"Get away from here or I will make you regret it," he shouted down at the boys, his voice clear and crisp and incensed.

"Up yours," one of the boys shouted back.

Laurent scraped snow off the railing of the fire escape, packed a ball, and pegged that boy in the face hard enough to knock him on his butt—all in less than a second.

Damen was cautiously approaching the cat, making soft shushing noises. It stopped thrashing and stared at him, ears pinned and teeth bared, making the weirdest, scariest bubbling growl he had ever heard.

Below, the boys were laughing at their downed friend, sounds that changed tenor as they noticed Laurent packing another snowball. Their voices and footsteps trailed away as they chose the better part of valor—still laughing, but leaving.

"The lights are around his hips and back leg," Damen said as Laurent turned his attention to the cat. "He's gonna bite me sure as the world if I try to touch him. Maybe if you distract him…"

Laurent made a thoughtful noise, and took off his tuxedo jacket. It was already cold as, well, as a late-December night, fire escape open to the wind and snow, and neither of them were wearing coats, but Laurent showed no sign of discomfort. A minute ago, Damen would have said it was because he was carved of ice himself. Harder to think that now.

"Wrap this around her front half," Laurent said, tossing the jacket to Damen, "and I'll disentangle the back half. Don't let her get away; she's pulled that back leg out of joint. Needs a vet."

Damen looked at the cat's wide-blown freaked-out eyes and glittering claws. "I'll… try," he said. "One, two, three!"

He leaped forward and tackled the cat, throwing the jacket over her head. She screamed pitiably, and her claws went right through the jacket into his arms, but he'd resigned himself to that much. At least the jacket did keep her from biting him.

Laurent had the harder job, trying to hold down her injured leg while she kicked for all she was worth. He swore a blue streak, and came out of it with a score of scratches of his own, but finally the cat was free of the Christmas lights. Laurent shoved the rest of her up into the jacket; Damen did his best to wrap her up.

"Where's the nearest emergency vet?" Laurent called—to someone behind them, Damen realized, and turned his head to see Nikandros staring through the open window. "Or her owner—do you know her owner?"

Nik shook his head. "She's a stray, me and the neighbors have been taking turns feeding her."

"Right. Well, we need to get her in out of the cold, and get her to the vet." Laurent's voice brooked no argument. "Clear us a path to a warm, quiet room, find an emergency vet, and call a cab."

 Damen ended up taking a bit more damage to the skin of his arms, wrestling the cat into a cat-carrier Nik borrowed from the neighbor. They'd taken over the bathroom, he and Laurent and the cat, and Laurent used the antiseptic he found in its cabinets to clean Damen's scratches, silent and expressionless as the cat screamed bloody murder inside the carrier.

"Yowch!" Damen couldn't keep himself from flinching from the sting.

"Baby," Laurent muttered, cleaning his own scratches without a flicker of discomfort. "Her leg hurts a lot worse than your arms."

"I'm sure," Damen muttered, watching the cat clawing at the door to the carrier. "Poor thing, she's so scared."

"She'll be fine," Laurent said shortly, but flinched when the cat gave a particularly heartrending yowl—the only sign that anything he'd experienced all night had bothered him.

There's a lot more to you than I thought. Damen found himself watching Laurent—indirectly, in the mirror—as he crouched in front of the carrier making spspspsp noises, and couldn't make himself look away even when Laurent caught him at it and glared.

 Damen wasn't actually sure how he ended up accompanying Laurent and the cat into the cab. It didn't take two people, surely, to drop a cat at the vet, especially when the vet was expecting them and already knew the situation. But into the cab he went, and into the vet's office he went, and before he knew it he and Laurent were sitting in plastic chairs together, waiting for the cat's initial prognosis. They could hear her howling all the way down the hall.

"I'm really more of a dog person," Laurent said suddenly, after a long silence. "Not that I actually own one. But I get along better with dogs. Cats are… We're too much alike, me and cats."

One corner of Damen's mouth tipped up. "I can believe that."

"You're more like a dog," Laurent said, and then looked away, as if embarrassed by his own words.

"Sloppy and dumb?" Damen said brightly.

"No, that's not what I—I mean, yes, obviously that, but—" Laurent's ears were turning red.

Damen couldn't stop smiling. "I might be more insulted if you hadn't just finished saying how much you like dogs."

"What is this, Jupiter Ascending? I do not like dogs, and I do not like you!"

"But you like Jupiter Ascending," Damen said. "Enough to have parts of the dialogue memorized."

"Well, you recognized it, so—"

"So we have more in common than I thought." Damen continued smiling, and enjoyed watching Laurent flail for a response.

"You have a low opinion of high society," Damen said after a moment. "You've spent enough time in it to have dirt on everybody, so you know whereof you speak. You hate them all, but you have to move among them to do your job, so you cope by channeling Dorothy Parker. I get that much."

"Oh, you've got my number, have you?" Laurent said nastily.

"Not yet," Damen said. "Because what I don't get is how the man that climbed out on a fire escape without a coat and rescued a cat—and gave up his New Year's Eve to bring it here—is the same man that was willfully cruel to the waitstaff for kicks."

Laurent appeared struck by this. "I suppose that looked bad, out of context."

"What possible context could make it look good?"

"Nothing could make it look good," Laurent admitted. "I wanted to hurt and humiliate Aimeric, and I succeeded. Very petty of me. No moral high ground there. But it might help to mention that the last time I saw him, Aimeric wasn't working as a waiter. He was the personal assistant to a very powerful man, and a witness in a child abuse case against that man, a witness I thought we could trust to turn the tide of the case. Instead he lied on the stand, ensuring that man got off scot free." Laurent closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "He's probably a victim himself, frankly. I ought to try to have compassion. But I had to send a little boy back to a nightmare he thought he'd escaped, because of that piece of shit. So yes, I was delighted to see him reduced to serving drinks, and delighted to have a chance to make his life a little more difficult."

"A child abuse case?" Damen said, somewhat inanely, since that was the first of the many surprises Laurent had just hit him with.

"Yes, I'm part of the firm's family law department."

That wasn't what Damen had expected of Laurent at all. But a lot of this conversation was tending that way.

"Mr. de Vere," said a vet tech, coming into the otherwise-empty waiting room. "We've successfully gotten your cat's dislocated leg back into place, which was her only major injury, I'm happy to say. She's under sedation right now and we'll need to keep her under observation for tonight. Once you get her home you'll need to keep her confined and sedentary—as much as you can, I mean—for a few weeks so she can rest and heal without re-injuring herself."

"She's not my," Laurent began, then heaved a deep sigh and rubbed his eyes. "Right. Okay."

"She can stay at my place," Damen said, the words bypassing any common-sense filter he might have possessed. "I have a guest room."

Laurent stared at him. "You don't even know if she's litterbox trained."

Damen shrugged, not about to back down now that he'd made the offer. "It'll be fine."

"I'm sure can work out the details when you come pick her up tomorrow," the tech said. "For tonight, you can rest easy, knowing she's okay and in good hands."

 They turned toward the closest tube station outside the vet clinic, their breaths puffing dragon-like in the cold air.

"I could commit war crimes for a cigarette right now," Laurent muttered, huddling into his coat.

"Cigarette?" Damen said. "I thought you were a vaper."

Laurent sighed. "The vaping is supposed to help me quit. My New Year's resolution last year was to quit smoking, see. So I've spent the last three days desperately pretending I can still pull it off before the end of the year." He gave Damen a sideways look. "I'm probably even bitchier than usual, tonight, due to that." It had the air of an apology.

Damen smiled wryly. "Broken resolutions. I know how that goes. This year I've managed to break my New Year's resolution before the new year even started."

They were walking past a bar; inside, people with goofy year-numbered glasses and hats were cheering and clustering around the TV screens, which showed footage of Times Square and the traditional descending ball. They both stopped to watch.

"I don't think that's how resolutions even work," Laurent said. "What was the resolution?"

"Five! Four! Three!"

"I'll tell you later."

"Two! One!"

"Tell me now," Laurent said, and Damen kissed him.

Laurent's lips were cold at first, but warmed quickly under his, Laurent's gloved hands fumbling with Damen's coat to pull him closer. He kissed Damen back in an artless, innocent, almost clumsy way that was as unexpected as it was charming, and he kept his eyes closed for a second after Damen finally—reluctantly—pulled back.

"Happy New Year," Damen said, leaning their foreheads together.

Laurent tried to speak, cleared his throat, tried again. "Happy New Year. What were you about to tell me?"

"That Nik's New Year's Eve party is cursed. I'm really glad I decided to come."

"You," Laurent said, "do not make any sense. I like that about you." He pulled Damen in for another kiss, and Damen was happy to oblige.

#captive prince #my fic #covertius-fic #tw: animal harm #the animal is okay though #so is the little boy laurent mentions #laurent is able to help him #happy endings for everyone #sb party

[hydra-collector]

Let Me Go (Special)

AO3

Let Me Go

Pairings: Intrulogical, platonic Analogical

Characters: Logan Sanders, Remus Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Janus Sanders (small character)

TW: lots of self-deprecation, sex mention

Words: 1838

Summary: Backstory to Logan and Remus’s relationship in sophomore year. 

Note: I wanted to write this for a while, but I mostly wrote it now because I needed an excuse to make a series out of this and boost it on AO3. Still not sure if it’s gonna work.

They just look so soft.

Logan desperately wanted to be with them. It wasn’t like anything he’d felt before. Sure, he’d had crushes, but Remus was on another level. It was odd, really, that he could be this infatuated with someone. Virgil had been trying to convince him to ask them out, but he couldn’t see why they’d want to date him. He was annoying, dumb, and ugly.

“C’mon, Logan. Do it.”

“Why would they accept?”

“Why do you think? They blush every time they see you. Y’all can’t even talk to each other anymore, you’re so in love.”

Logan and Remus had met last year, freshman. They’d argued back to the teacher, who decided to give them detention. Logan, however, believed that they’d made a strong point about the content of their learning in school (even though they suggested some… odd topics instead,) and he argued against the teacher as well.

That was the first time Logan Berry had gotten detention.

The second time was also for their sake, or rather, it was their fault. They’d passed a note to Logan, which simply read, “See you after school.” He obviously hadn’t understood what they meant until they started talking to him, out loud, randomly.

That was the second time the pair of them got detention.

Logan’s had been excused afterwards due to his explained circumstances, but that moment had released a bit of freedom in him. He’d gotten detention. He hadn’t followed the rules.

When he looked back, sitting in the middle of a nearly empty class with Remus next to him, their pretty face smiling, even in the crappy classroom’s lighting, just seeing the eyes and the person and the lips that had brought him here-

He fell in love.

Remus and Logan became friends, and everything changed. They taught him risks and adventure, that life didn’t revolve around being perfect and doing things right. They’d gotten him out of the, so far, darkest point of his life. They’d taught him creativity and experimentation, that he could do more than what school said, or history said, or anything did. He could experiment with how many water balloons you could pile on top of one another before they popped. None of the experiments were perfect or particularly scientific, but god did he have fun.

He started going outside, taking trips to old record shops, thrift stores, and malls, just to see everything. Remus had even convinced him to break into some old mansions and trespass on abandoned train tracks together. He never once took a picture. It was all for his memory.

They’d been each other’s compliment, and listened to each other when no one else cared what they had to say. They could talk and talk and never get bored of each other, just keep listening or adding on to what the other was saying. Sometimes they wondered where all these conversations came from, when all the topics in the world seemed to have run out, but still there was something to say.

Disagreements were never fights. Never. It was always a discussion, talking about how “I’m right and this is why,” while the other tried to change their mind. No one’s ever was, but disagreement is what kept them from doing many stupid things.

And it didn’t last forever, as nothing does. But those were some of the happiest times of his teenage years.

Logan hadn’t realized until Janus had told him that he was in fact, in love.

Remus had realized the moment they laid eyes on Logan and savored every minute they spent together after. They didn’t want to ruin the wonderful platonic relationship they had. And besides, Logan had friends who would convince him to confess if he felt the same way.

Virgil was right about barely being able to talk to each other. Ever since Janus had pointed out his obvious feelings, he’d been especially awkward. He hated it. He knew he should confess in order to retain a steady relationship, platonic or romantic.

But how?

“How do you suggest I go about doing it? I’d like to retain a bit of… me, but being in love is probably a very unlike me kind of thing.”

“No, it is not, Logan. You’ve had crushes on like, six people since I met you.”

“It’s different, though.”

“Why not just tell them ‘I love you?’ It’s simple and obvious and fits your style.”

“What if they take it the wrong way, assume it’s platonic?”

“I guess that could happen. What’s something that’s obviously romantic? ‘I wanna date you?’”

“It sounds odd, though.”

“Wow, picky?”

“I mean, it could work, but I’d rather something more memorable or meaningful.”

“I wanna fuck you?”

Logan tensed. “Ah, um, I’d rather, no.”

“Okay, okay. Do you want to kiss them?”

He thought for a moment, imagining their face, and the love he felt for them, their beautiful eyes and soft cheeks, squishy belly he wished he had the permission to cuddle. The arms that made him nearly collapse because of the wonderful feeling their hugs brought him, their short stature compared to his, and their beautiful lips, out of which so many wonderful ideas and opinions spewed out. He wanted to kiss those lips.

“...Yes.”

“You could use that.”

“I think… maybe I will.”

~~

Today.

Today he was going to tell them.

He’d invited them over to his house, where he imagined over and over telling them, all the ways they might react, especially the negative ways.

He could barely talk to Remus as they walked to his house together, just listening to the endless ideas they came up with. Each word made him love them more and more. Endless possibilities for how the scene may play out repeated over and over in his mind as he panicked internally, hoping they didn’t actually hate him like his brain said they did.

The cold air nipped at his nose and fingers, so he rubbed his hands together in a sad attempt to warm up.

“Cold hands, Lo?”

They took his hands and held them in previously gloved ones, which were still warm. They held them there, trading positions to better warm different fingers every few seconds. Logan felt the heat in his cheeks as well.

When they got inside, Remus went to Logan’s cupboard to grab and make two hot cocoa packets.

“That’s extremely unhealthy.”

Remus said nothing, simply adding another packet to their cup, watching Logan.

“Remus-”

He sighed and let it happen. That was the least of his worries now.

Logan’s heart beat as Remus brought their hot cocoas upstairs to his living room, where he’d planned to confess. They sat down on the couch, putting their arm around him when he did as well.

“Remus, I’ve been meaning to tell you about something.”

“Once you do, do you wanna talk about ancient sea creatures? I read a really good article. Hey, are you alright?”

Logan was shaking with fear, excitement, anticipation, anxiety, everything one could be shaking with.

“Y-yeah.”

“Tell me what you were gonna say. I’m curious.”

What if they hate you? What if they don’t want to be your friend anymore? What if they think it’s weird to date if your asexual? How could they even love you when you are who you are?

He took a deep breath, hoping for the best.

“I want to kiss you.”

“Say no more.”

And Logan had been kissed.

Whatever scenarios ran through his head, this wasn’t one of them. There was one where they’d talked about relationships, one where they agreed and awkwardly asked to and then kissed, one where he was flat-out rejected, one where they thought it was a joke, but nothing like this. Where they just kiss him. He was glad it happened that way.

Logan had expected some kind of verbal reaction, at least. Something like “me too,” or a flirt, at least. But no, just “say no more.” And now he was kissing Remus.

He hadn’t expected to ever reach this point. To be kissing someone he really liked. He wished it would last longer than he knew it would.

He could always kiss them again.

After the few seconds their first kiss had been, both were blushing severely, broken apart. Neither of them said anything, so Logan took his chance to kiss them again. Remus wouldn’t have taken them for someone to initiate a kiss. They weren’t mad, though.

“Thanks.”

What?

“You’re welcome, I guess.”

They laughed it off and spent the next hour discussing the relationships of sea creatures. Probably to avoid talking about their own.

At first, nothing changed much. They still went out on ‘adventures’ together, had the same conversations, interacted with their other friends the same way, and more or less thought of each other the same as they had before.

Logan asked Remus on their first date.

They couldn’t ignore what’d happened forever, and while they weren’t against discussing it, it hadn’t come up naturally. Logan proposed it as a chance to talk about what was to become of their relationship.

“Would you like to consistently date, Remus?”

“I’d enjoy that.”

“My being asexual isn’t a problem?”

“Nah,” they sipped their coffee, “I fell in love with you anyway.”

That was a relief.

“What should we call ourselves, if anything?”

“At somepoint, probably partners. In crime.”

“Don’t remind me that that’s true.”

“I don’t know how I managed to get a date. ‘Specially with you. You’re so cute and all I do is talk about organs and weird creatures and make sex jokes.”

“I do that too, Remus. Usually not sex jokes, though. And I disagree, I’m quite ugly and frankly obnoxious to most people I meet. You’re pretty and lovable.”

“I suppose I’m not most people you meet, then. And I can’t even begin to explain how cute you are. Your glasses make it perfect.”

Logan asked Remus on most of the dates, mostly because wherever they would ask him was illegal or paid, often museums. Logan savored these days.

As they went on more dates, kissed more openly, cuddled more often, the consideration of each other changed from ‘dating’ to ‘partner’ and ‘boyfriend.’ The first time Remus gave Logan a pet name, he was initially adverse to it, but warmed up to them as they kept saying them. After a while, they probably used it more than his real name. He still refused to return affection in this form, however. Remus was sure he someday would (he denied it.)

They were happy together. Janus was glad to see Logan had expressed his emotions, for once, and it led to a lot more happiness. It wasn’t always going to be as happy as it was that year, but he had someone as close as a romantic partner to help him through it. A few years later, he would make decisions he’d later regret, but there was no regret for confessing his love that day.

And sophomore year, those two best friends became partners.

#sanders sides #sanders side fic #logan sanders #remus sanders #intrulogical #ts logan #ts remus #sanders sides fanfiction #ts sides fanfiction #tw sex mention #lmao the first part isnt bad and then it all went to shit #tw self deprecation #kissing #idfk waht im doing anymroe #platonic analogical #grays fics #let me go #tw cussing

[fanficsandmoregalore]

Do I Know You

Soulmate AU!

Kylo Ren X Reader

Summary: Kylo Ren has been having strange dreams lately and they include a girl he has never met before. What happens when he finally does? 

A/N: “Hey y’all, sorry this is so long. I hope this is an okay fic, it is kinda OOC and I apologize but i’ve had this idea in my head forever. Enjoy.”

“I hope you’re happy, Kylo. I think, of all the people in this galaxy, you deserve it.”  

Kylo turned his head to you, a bit startled by your sudden words breaking the silence, but then looked back out the large window. You were both on the balcony of the large observation deck, the view of the stars outside was incredible. Kylo came here when he was upset and eventually, he stopped coming here, because he had married you. Kylo sighed, he felt like he didn’t deserve your kindness, your love, you.

“I don’t deserve you.” He simply replied.

You placed your hand on Kylo’s larger one as it rested on the railing. He smiled at your affectionate gesture and, again, turned to look at you, standing beside him. But his smile fell when he saw that you were silently crying, an emotionless expression on your face as you stared off into space. He made you turn toward him then placed his hands on either side of your face, looking into your eyes for some sign of what was wrong. You leaned up slowly and kissed him gently, pulling away with a smile on your face.

“I love you, Kylo Ren.”

“I love you too,(Y/n).”

 (Y/n)…(Y/n)…(Y/n)…

 “Fuck!”

Kylo shot up in bed, covered in sweat and breathing heavily. He ran his hands through his dark hair and tried to catch his breath. This was the fifth time this month he’s had a dream like that, with that same girl. They were always in space, on some sort of military base, and although he has never met the girl that’s in his dreams, something about her seemed familiar to him and made him feel so peaceful.

“Crylo! Wake up! We’re gonna be late!”

The sound of Ben’s voice pulled Kylo from his thoughts and made him feel instantly annoyed. He grumbled another curse and got out of bed.

“I’m up, I’m up.” Kylo groaned as he started picking up random articles of clothing to wear for the day, opting to go with a black t-shirt with a tiger on the front, black jeans, and converse.

           The Solo Triplets had agreed to meet with their cousin, Rey, for lunch. Rey was bringing her friends, along with someone new to meet the 3 boys and although Kylo hated meeting new people, he decided to go. Matt waved briefly as Kylo entered the kitchen of their apartment.

“Morning.” Matt said and Kylo only nodded slightly as a response. Matt was wearing his usual jeans and grey sweater vest over a light blue button up shirt combo. They went in style with his glasses and the converse he wore, like Kylo’s. Ben came out looking more casual. He was in a white t-shirt, jeans, and some new sporty shoes he had bought recently. Ben chuckled as he saw what Matt was wearing and then, smirking devilishly, came up behind Kylo, who was pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Hey Kylo, who’s (Y/n)?”

           Kylo nearly dropped his cup at the mention of the name and spilled some hot coffee on the counter.

“Shit!” He said then quickly tried to clean it up.

“Wow, and all I did was say her name. Wonder what she does to you in person.” Ben laughed and Kylo grumbled to himself as he finished cleaning the mess.

“I wouldn’t know, actually. I’ve never met her. She’s just some girl that’s been in my dreams lately. I don’t know anyone by that name and I’ve never seen a girl that looks like the one in my dreams.” Kylo explained. Hearing this caught Matt’s attention and peaked his interest.

“Maybe you’re having visions! Like seeing into the future and stuff.” Matt smiled widely at the thought of his brother having superpowers, but Ben only scoffed at the idea.

“That would be a good explanation to why we’re always in space.” Kylo thought out loud, this made Matt even more excited. Before Matt could pick Kylo’s dream apart, Ben cleared his throat loudly, making his brothers look at him.

“We have a cousin waiting on us.” Ben was eager to get out the door and wasn’t all that interested in some made up girl in Kylo’s dreams. Kylo rolled his eyes and Matt smiled at Kylo one more time before he followed his other brother out the door.

 ----

The three boys pulled up to Denny’s and Ben began to dance in the driver’s seat. He always enjoyed seeing his cousin, mainly because he was the closest with her, but he also really enjoyed eating at Denny’s. Kylo and Matt weren’t as cheerful as Ben was but were still happy to see their cousin. As they walked in, Kylo bumped into a girl who turned around with a smile on her face,

“Oh, sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was….” Kylo was speechless. The girl that he had ran into was the exact same girl from his dreams, only you wore more casual, modern looking clothes. You seemed to feel like you recognized him too because you were staring. Suddenly, you blushed a dark red and avoided his eyes. You felt butterflies in your stomach and Kylo felt the same peacefulness that he felt in his dreams when he saw the girl he didn’t know.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to be in the way. And I didn’t mean to stare.” You apologized frantically but then felt a pair of arms on your shoulders. It was Rey.

“Hey boys, nice of you to finally join us. I see you’ve met (Y/n). Be nice to her, she just moved to town.” Rey grinned at her cousins. Ben and Matt looked at Kylo, then Matt smirked to Ben.

“Told ya.” Matt whispered, earning him a smack on the arm from Ben. Kylo blushed and looked away from the girl. The others began to go over to the front desk so they could be seated. Kylo couldn’t believe this was happening. It all felt so familiar, like it had happened before, it felt just like he was reliving a memory. Then he looked back to you.

It was an awkward encounter. Kylo Ren, one of the most feared men, was now all flustered. He had accidentally collided with you while walking into the conference room of your father’s palace.You were arranged to be married and he came today to meet you for the first time. He didn’t know that you were his soon to be bride just then, but you knew who he was right away. Kylo felt his face heat up under his mask.

“Ah, Commander Ren, I see you’ve met my daughter, (Y/n).”

Kylo was in disbelief. He had heard that you were beautiful, but the rumors didn’t do you any justice. You were the most incredibly gorgeous creature he had ever laid eyes on, and soon you’d be his, for eternity.

“Are you alright?”

“W-what?” Kylo was brought back to reality by your sweet voice. He looked and saw that you were standing there smiling at him, like in that vision just now.

“Are you alright?” You asked again and giggled. Kylo’s face turned an embarrassing shade of red and he nodded.

“Um, yeah. I’m fine.” 

“Hey you guys, we have a table, come on.” Ben called to you and Kylo, making sure that Kylo saw him wink. Kylo flipped him off from behind you. 

“Shall we?” You smiled at Kylo again before following the group to the table. Kylo smiled back at you and followed you. 

You and your soon to be husband sat at a large dinner table, next to each other of course. You were nervous, but you could sense he was too. While the others at the table were talking about politics and intergalactic wars that were currently waging, you glanced at the man next to you. Kylo Ren, the name that was meant to strike fear in the hearts of other only filled yours with a strange sense of happiness and peace. You looked at the large figure beside you, dressed from head to toe in black, the infamous helmet that he always wore. It was dinner time and yet he hadn’t taken it off. You wanted to see his face, but he was ashamed of it and kept it hidden. You looked down to your plate as the food was being served, you felt bad for staring. Suddenly, you heard a hissing noise, you looked over once more and to your surprise, Kylo had finally removed his helmet. Your face began to heat up as you took in his features, the long black locks, the deep brown pools that were his eyes, his lips, his nose, and what caught your attention most was his scar. No matter what he thought about the way he looked, you thought he was breathtaking. Kylo blushed as he read your mind and he tried to avoid eye contact with you. Dinner went on like that, you both ate silently, awkwardly, and avoided each other’s eyes the entire time. 

Rey was able to, cleverly, get you and Kylo to sit by each other. When she saw the way you two looked at each other, she knew exactly what she had to do. Lunch was long, and awkward, at least for you and Kylo it was. After he finished eating, Kylo got up and headed for the front doors. 

“What’s his deal today? He’s been acting weirder than usual.” Finn said as he ate another fry from Rey’s plate.

“I’ll go check on him.” You almost too eagerly volunteered, getting up from your seat. You began to walk to the front doors, following Kylo’s movements. After you were far enough away, Matt looked to Rey excitedly.

“I told you!”

“I know, I know! I’m sp excited to what happens next, I’m keeping a log.” 

“You nerd, you-”

Ben interrupted the two by clearing his throat obnoxiously loud. Rey and Matt looked at him.

“What is going on? What are you guys talking about?” 

“When (Y/n) first moved into town, she started having a reoccurring dream and she told me that someone named Kylo Ren was in them, but she had never met Kylo before so i was confused. I asked her to describe him to me and she described our Kylo perfectly,but she swore she had never met him in real life, saying he was only a figment of her imagination. I bet she feels pretty silly right about now.”

Matt excitedly scooted closer to Ben. 

“And this morning Kylo was saying something similar but about (Y/n). He said he had never met her before but he knew her name and did you see the way he looked at her when he bumped into each other? There is some kind of universal force that brought them together, don’t you think?”

Ben looked over his shoulder at you and Kylo talking out front.

“I don’t know.”

----

“Kylo, I’m sorry but have we met before? I feel like we have.”

“I don’t think so. I’ve stayed in this town practically my whole life.”

There was an awkward silence again. The two of you were sitting on the bench outside the Denny’s. You thought about it for a bit, you really did believe that you known Kylo before today. You could feel it in your soul. Then a thought came across your mind.

“What if it wasn’t this life?”

Kylo looked at you with a confused expression. You said it quietly but he heard you. 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I feel like we’ve met before but neither of us have seen each other until today? And tell me if i’m wrong, but don’t you feel the same? Doesn’t it all seem a little weird?” 

Kylo simply stared at you, he zoned out completely. All he could think about was how beautiful you were. You continued to ramble but suddenly Kylo leaned in and kissed you. He almost instantly pulled away, but to be honest, you didn’t want him to. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” 

You couldn’t help but smile and look at Kylo.

“It’s okay. I...I liked it.”

Kylo looked at you in shock and then smiled to himself.

“It.. it felt right.” 

“Yeah. It did.”

You and Kylo looked at each other and smiled, a blush spreading on both of your faces. Then you both felt it, a pounding in both of your chests. 

“Kylo, how long will you love me?”

It was the night after your wedding, and you and Kylo were alone in your shared room.

“For eternity.”

“And after that?”

“Of course.”

Kylo looked at you and took in every detail of your face, admiring your beauty. He couldn’t resist and leaned in and kissed you. He pulled away and looked at you. You smiled at him and looked into his eyes.

“I will love you in every lifetime.”

“I love you, Kylo Ren.”

“I love you too, (Y/n).”

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

#kylo x reader #kylo ren #Fanfic #star wars #this is trash

[blairwitchart]

I know literally no one cares but this is my creative outlet sooooooooooo

Here’s the start of a story I’m writing called. “Salem Witch Commite”.

P.O.V Narrator

Witches have been around for millenniums. Long before the Salem witch trials, but since then they have been hidden in the shadows, and whether you like it or not, they've been watching. They are not the only ones, amongst the witches are the creatures of nightmares demons and their underlings. Over the decades' witches have been forgotten, misinterpreted, and even fetishized. Nowadays the witches' numbers have been reduced to a misly 105, and that is on a global scale. with these low numbers, these witches have created a coven, the Salem witch committee. this committee fights everything their ancestors were burned and drowned for, mostly demons. this coven has 7 locations each consisting of 15 members, each is found in a different continent. now on to their legend

P.O.V: Blair

"We should totally go get our palms read together!" says the lady from across the street. "You know all those places are shams right?" says her companion "Ya but it'll be fun. So you free next Saturday?" "Hey, weirdo what have a told you about starring at people through the window of my favorite coffee shop," Jade says while waving my Vienna coffee in front of my face. "That it's wrong and if I keep doing it we might get kicked out and or banned indefinitely," "Exactly now cut that shit out and drink you crappy coffee," "Fine," Now if you can't tell from my name I'm a witch and so is my best friend jade we live in Boston and we and a bunch of others are apart of the Salem witch committee "hey, can get out of here I'm getting bored," I say as I dramatically fall deeper into the booth we're sitting in. "Sure, come on lazy bones!" she says while slowly pulling me from the corner of the booth. as we silly walk towards the door, we come face to face with the disgustingly handsome Alec. "Oh, h-hey Alec what are you doing here," Who jade is crushing on big time. "Oh hey guys just picking up my mobile order," "Oh well we could wait fo-" "yeah well we're actually just heading out, so see you at the clubhouse," I interrupt while pulling Jade past them. "What the hell was that all about?" "Sorry I just could not watch you drool over them any longer," "I don't know what you're talking about," "Yeah, sure dipshit,"

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

P.O.V: Blair

*Ding* *Ding* “as the clock strikes 12 the witching begins,” Tristen says, trying to sound all cool and shit. “Its noon,” Jessica retorts back. “Shut up I know just… let me take roll, Jessica,” “here,” “Jade,” “here,” “Issac,” “here,” “Alec,” “here,” “Blair,” “here,” “Joan,” “here,” “Jeremy,” “here,” “Eric,” “here,” “Taylor,” “here,” “Malissa,” “here,” “Marcus,” “here,” “Olie,” “here,” “Alex,” “here,” “D.J,” “here,” “And of course I, Tristen, is here. Now on to some serious business we have a job. Our sources say that a family in Maryland has been hexed. It should be an in and out job so I’m only sending 3 of you Jade, Alec, and Blair,” What? I understand why he would send Jade and me, we have great teamwork. But. Jade and Alec. We all see how they act around each other. They act like they’re in love while at the same time constantly saying that the other does not have a crush on them yet still being extremely obvious with their crush. Did I do something wrong? Cause last time I checked, I did nothing to warrant the cruel and unusual punishment of being their third wheel. But here I am sitting in the back of Alec’s car watching them laugh at another one of Jades’ flirty jokes. I hate it here.

“Here we are ladies, 8052 Marigold ln, Burkittsville Maryland,” Alec says while parallel parking in front of a fairly new house. “Are you sure no one’s home. If we break-in and someones in there it’s gon get real awkward real quick,” Jade says while picking the front doors lock. “Yeah, Tristen said he checked the traffic cameras 3 times and their security systems 5 times. Isn’t that right Alec,” “Yep,” Once Jade gets the door unlocked we move our things to the kitchen table. Once everything is set up we split up to cleanse the house I take the main floor, Alec takes the upper floor, and Jade takes the basement. “1,2,3 let’s get hexy,” we all say in unison. Yeah, I know its cringe but it’s lowkey funny. I light my blue sage and start wandering around my floor. I enter what seems to be a little girls room I am overwhelmed with a dark menacing feeling. As I walk farther into the room I watch as the smoke from the blue sage flows towards the closet. As I inch towards the closet I find the owner of the room. Whats seems to be a little blonde girl, no older than 10, is sitting in the front corner of her closet. Which is odd since Tristen said there was no one home. Hopefully, she doesn’t call her parents. I reach to turn her over and once I do my heart drops. I come face to face with a little girl whose skin has been ripped off her face and neck, and as I watch the blood dry I notice that one of her eyes has been removed while the other seems to have her eye burnt. As I continue to stare I feel my breath start to hitch, that’s when I knew I had to alert my friends. So my dumbass decided to scream which I guess got the point across.

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

P.O.V: Jade

Damn, they have a pretty small basement looks like I got the long end of the stick. Sage? Lit. Bad energies? Gone. Dangerous entities? Removed. Hotel? Trivago. Now that that’s done all that’s left to do is to hide some selenite and meditate. “AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH” what the fuck was that? Who just screamed. I rush up the stairs not even worrying about the fact that I just dropped a handful of selenite on to the floor. I start sprinting around the main floor when I see Blair sitting in front of the closet in a little girl’s room. She seems scared which is weird for Blair. Wow, shes even shaking. “Hey. Hey! Look at me. You are okay everything is going to be fine. Now tell me what’s got you so spooked babe,” I say while gently caressing her hands. She then moves one hand out of my grip and points towards the closet. I then turn my head to see the horrific murder scene for a little girl. “Ah shit, it’s okay everything is okay,” I say trying to reassure her. “Who screamed,” Alec says while barging in armed with their lucky swiss army knife. “Yeah, Alec everything is fine. Blair just found the massacred carcass of a little girl so shes a little shaken up about it,” “What do you mean massacred, holy shit. How did this even happen no one has been home,” They say while taking a closer look at the body. “ And by the looks of how much blood has dried, she would have had to be dead for at least an hour,” The lights cut out. “That would be my doing,” says a dark and eerie voice from all around us. “Blair get up we need the power of 3,” She stands up and we all hold hands. Alec turns on their flashlight and shines it on the floor for us all to see. For some reason, the floor is engulfed in a black goo like substance that is flowing in our direction. Alec uses their light to find the source by following the flow. Once the light reaches the door we become face to face with a being of absolute darkness. A tall, oddly humanly shaped, drippy being with bright orange eyes is staring at us and is smiling, and just as I thought I couldn’t get any worse it opens its mouth to let the little girl’s eye drop out. “Sorry just wanted a little snack before damning all of humanity to something worse than death,” it says quite obnoxiously. “ Who do you think you are,” Alec barks out. It seems to appear right in front of our faces just to say “Not who but what. A demon to be exact but for tonight I will just be your worst nightmare,” And before I knew it the only sound I could register was *bu dump..bu dump..bu dump..bu dump...bu dump...bu dump….bu dump…..bu dump……..* I look to my left to see that the demon had bludgeoned Alecs Heart out and the sound I was hearing was their heart dying. Before I could even utter a single word the demon looked at us and said “You’re next,” and before I knew it Blair was pulling us out of the room and all I could do was cry and call out to Alec as if they were still alive. Blair and I turn a corner and I can feel something grip on to my leg and as I feel myself being dragged down the hall I see Blair start to sob.

I also started drawing the characters so here’s the first finished one

That’s all for today

#oc #writing #witchcraft #demons

[angstymarshmallow]

Simply Between Us Part 7 (Thomas Hunt x MC)

[A little note: wow am I going to actually finish another series? Kudos to you guys and my imagination for keeping me going :D. Here’s part 7!]

[Words counted: 2825]

There’s a moment when Tatum thinks she’s forgotten how to breathe. A moment when she’s convinced her lungs aren’t getting enough oxygen to keep them from collapsing. Her brain still works all the same. It still wrestles with her own thoughts as frustrated and panicked as they are; images that become all jumbled together at just the sight of her still standing several inches away. Her heart is still trying to pump iron through her bloodstream, but her breath – it isn’t gone. It’s merely lodged in her throat, unyielded despite her desperate attempt to breathe.

Her fingers on the knob tightens until her skin turns a shade lighter. It’s pale enough to almost blend in with the colour of cement.

If the taller woman notices, she offers no incentive. Instead, her smile becomes rather tight and her eyes seem bemused as they peer down at her. They’re smirking at her as if to say, well aren’t you going to invite me in?

“Priya,” Tatum finally manages to speak, and forces a smile on her lips. It’s a small one, but it is something.

The air around them is almost palpable with tension as she clears her throat. “How…lovely it is to see you.” She must admit, even to herself the words sound wrong somehow. “And what a surprise.”

Priya’s smile drops a fraction. “A good surprise.” A sigh fills the room as she places a hand on her hip. “I’m just glad your address panned out. If it wasn’t so public this would have been much more difficult.”

Tatum used to think it not a big issue, having her address readily available to the press. Suddenly, she was having second thoughts.

Priya raises an eyebrow expectantly until realization dawns on Tatum’s face. “Oh! I’m sorry,” she steps aside. “Why don’t you come in?”

“Thank you.” She tilts her chin, a slight smirk still on full display as she takes a delicate step inside.

As soon as Tatum closes the door quietly behind her, Priya’s eyes and hands are nearly everywhere – touching and looking at almost everything she spots. They drift across her end tables and flit across her bookcases with unbridled curiosity. “Can I…get you anything? A cup of tea perhaps?”

“No,” She turns back to her. “This won’t take long.”

Tatum’s stomach plummets at her words.

Trying to shake off the feeling, Tatum tries to remind herself this is her home. She’s the one in charge here. No one can let her feel insignificant unless she allows it. “A-alright.” She frowns faintly at the slight tremble in her voice as Priya’s smirk widens. She gestures for her to take a seat before joining her across the table, from the other side of her sofa.

“You have quite the apartment.” Priya starts, her eyes shifting again to take in the length of the room. “Very…” Her eyes stop at the bright and warm textures of her accent wall and pillows. “Quirky.”

“Um, thank you?” Tatum replies, her voice full of question. She clasps her hands tightly together and within the folds of her skirt, before she smoothens her tone. “I quite adore it.”

“I can certainly see the appeal,” Priya continues, “there’s a…certain quality it has.” She scrutinizes the magazines across her coffee table. “This is an upcoming neighbourhood after all.” She adds; her gaze shifting once again but it freezes the same time Tatum does.

It’s Thomas briefcase.

The telltale letters of his initials stare obnoxiously back at them; engraved into its polished silver handle. And Tatum can’t help the mild satisfaction from building inside her chest as Priya’s eyes linger in its direction.

Priya’s entire posture grows stiff, before she finally settles her gaze elsewhere. By the windowsill decorated in an assortment of Tatum’s favourite plants.

The silence is too loud. 

Tatum is too aware of it as she fidgets in her seat. It’s too difficult to break. But perhaps she should at least try – she’d be damned to feel uncomfortable in her own house. It’s only a matter of how to break it before it becomes unbearable.

However, the big elephant in the room was now irrevocably obvious. Even though he isn’t present, Thomas Hunt still manages to hold their complete attention.

Sooner than later, her nerves win and Tatum breaks the silence first. “Priya.” She tests her name on her tongue, deciding the name would have been much easier to say if she didn’t have reservations about meeting the woman. “I don’t mean to be rude but – ”

“It’s funny, isn’t it?” Priya interrupts, returning her gaze back to her.

Tatum frowns. “I’m not sure I follow…”

She rolls her eyes as though its obvious. “Do I really have to say it?” She gestures between them. “I simply find some…hilarity in how quickly some of us are able to move on.”

Move on?

“I’m talking about Thomas of course.” Priya tosses her hair over her shoulder. “He must have mentioned me in passing. But I suppose, we are simple creatures after all. Fickle with our desires.”

Tatum blinks at her.

She’s posed near the end of Tatum’s couch with her legs crossed and her gaze completely coy. “You mean, Thomas didn’t mention us?” Her eyes widened in dismay before she placed a hand on her temple. “Perhaps, I spoke too soon.”

Tatum flinches. Her back stands a little straighter as though she’s been poked. She bites her tongue in an effort not to ask. She’s almost too afraid to ask.

She averts her eyes from Priya’s triumphant stare. She tries to tell herself she has no reason to be upset, no reason to feel as hurt as she does, staring at her fingers tightly clenched inside her lap. Three months. A lot can happen in three months.

“Thomas mentioned you.” There’s no mistaking the bite in between her words. There’s a hardness to it, although she manages to keep eerily calm. “Tatum Everly. Even if he hadn’t mentioned you, the press certainly does. You’ve become quite a media darling after The Last Duchess made her debut.” She taps her finger on her chin, appearing thoughtful. “I wonder where you would have ended up if Thomas hadn’t taken an incredibly huge risk with you?” She pauses, shaking her head. “No matter. Now that I’ve met you in person, I suppose I can see the appeal. You are fairly pretty,” her lips purse around the word, “meek – maybe a little too nice for someone as stoic as he is.”

Tatum opens her mouth to protests but nothing comes out.

“Although, some congratulations are in order. Hollywood insider has chewed you up and spit you back out, and you’ve still managed to keep it…mostly together.”

Tatum’s stomach shrinks a little at the oversimplification. No one has ever summarized her quite so quickly. Suddenly, she wants to disappear in her seat from underneath the weight of Priya’s withering stare. “But you know better than to listen to everything the media says.”

“Of course. Who doesn’t?” She snorts. “Would you rather I believe the completely horrid  things they’ve said? When you were working for Viktor Montmartre,” at Tatum’s flinch, Priya adds. “His agency didn’t have as many nice things to say about you.”

For a moment, Tatum doesn’t know what to say. It isn’t as though she knew much about Priya Singh herself, other than the little bits that Thomas had mention in passing. “I’m surprised you left Hollywood University.” She sits upright again, flickering her gaze back at the woman who seems surprised by her words. But she does know enough. “Considering its such a prestigious school, wouldn’t a professor of your caliber want to remain apart of the district board?” She pauses as Priya’s eyes flashed with irritation. “But then again, Hollywood Insider hadn’t exactly the nicest things to say about you either when they heard you were fired.”

Priya’s shoulders are stiff as she shrugs again. “Allegedly,” she corrects, miffed. “I was in dire need of a vacation anyway.” She continues quickly.

Tatum suppresses the urge to smile, but barely at her mild triumph. Priya doesn’t exactly strike Tatum as a woman that’s often caught off-guard. And besides, she can’t be afraid of going head-to-head with her. If she’s going to be a permanent part of Thomas’ life, it means she has to be brave. To fight for him.

“And your vacation led you here?” She lifts her brows expectantly.

“I spent quite portion of my youth here. With a lot of my friends, business partners.”

“With Thomas Hunt.”

Priya smirks. “Yes.”

“Is that why you’re here?” Her voice isn’t shaking anymore, it’s remarkably smooth. Clipped. She’ll have to pat herself on the back later. “To tell me you two were…well intimate with each other.” Even the word makes her stomach twists into knots, but she keeps her features calm.

“No, of course not.” Priya appears appalled by the idea, dropping a hand to her lips before shaking her head.

“I’m not stupid Priya.” Tatum interjects. Her voice rises with every word, “He doesn’t have to mention you. It’s not like I didn’t expect Thomas not to explore some…unresolved feelings he might have had for you.” She clears her throat, meeting Priya’s scrutinized stare unflinchingly. “But that’s all in the past now.” She jerks her chin up high. Rising promptly to her feet, Tatum folds her arms across her chest. “And if that is all you came here to say, I think it’s time you left.”

Although, she appears taken aback by Tatum’s resolve, Priya doesn’t make a move to stand. “Is it?” She tsks instead, leaning forward with a faint smirk still on her lips. “Then, I suppose Thomas also mentioned he was by my place last night.” Her eyes darkened with amusement as Tatum freezes.

“I – what?”

“So, he hadn’t?” Priya’s eyes darken as she gets to her feet. She runs a hand through her hair. “He needed to talk to me he said. He said he needed to put things back into perspective.” She snorts derisively. “Then things went...further than talking, but I’ll leave out those details for your sake.” She waves a hand dismissively.

For a moment, Tatum can’t speak. Her mind is still trying to play catch up. “You’re lying.” Those are the first words out of her mouth. Everything inside her wants to deny it.

“Oh Tatum,” her gaze turns pitying.

“Thomas wouldn’t do that.” Tatum says weakly. Not after everything we went through last night.

“So young, so utterly naïve.” Priya sighs. “Well, you don’t have to take my word for it. If Thomas is anything like the man you and I think he is - you can always ask him. And he’ll tell you he was at my place last night before he came running to you.” She shrugs, her eyes never wavering from her face. “Yes – I didn’t miss the briefcase. But Thomas Hunt…whoever he was when I knew him, he isn’t the same man now.” She shakes her head, then tucks her clutch under a slender arm. “I had some reservations about meeting you in person but now I’m glad I did because, now you know.” She stalks past her, heels clicking at the same rate of Tatum’s heart. “No need to walk me to the door, I can see myself out.”

Helplessly, Tatum turns and watches her go.

“Have a good day, Tatum.” Priya tosses behind her shoulders before quietly closing the front door behind her.

Tatum stares at the door, half in shock – half in denial. She can’t seem to will herself to move. She replays it in her mind – Priya’s words. How self righteous she sounded. It can’t be true. It can’t be.

They didn’t come this far for this. For her heart to break at just the thought of the two of them alone, kissing, rolling over sheets – naked.

Then slowly Tatum slides to the floor, clutching at the side of her sofa for support, gasping for her breath before her back lies flatly against it. Had she been wrong? Had she been wrong to give away her entire heart to him?

I love you Tatum. And when I was lost, you were the one to bring me back – you’ve always been the one to bring me back.

She tries to wrap herself around his words like a warm blanket, desperate to shut out the cold and harshness of Priya’s words. Desperate to believe in his love, desperate to remember his smile. Except all it ends up accomplishing - leaves her feeling empty and his words rang hallow, deep within her heart.

-

Thomas Hunt hums subconsciously to himself on the way up the elevator shaft. He catches himself in the mirror grinning and shakes his head.

It’s been too long since he’s felt this happy, felt this at peace. The world could end right now and he would have died a happy man. However, he was thankful it was still spinning – still giving humanity days and nights, seasons but mostly importantly – he was eternally grateful the world had given him Tatum. His world only made the most practical sense with her in it and now that he realized the depth of his feelings for her; he swore to himself to never allow anyone or anything to come between them again.

She had been the only person who had stuck by him no matter what, and he wouldn’t squander what they had a second time. He knew better.

Thomas shifts on his feet and the paper bag of Chinese food wafts towards his nose. It reminds him how hungry was as his stomach grumbles. He can’t remember the last time he’s shared a decent meal with anyone that wasn’t simple coffee and a croissant. And knowing it’s Tatum he is sharing it with gives him an extra happiness to his gait as he steps out of the elevator shaft.

Immediately the colour drains out of his face.

There’s a familiar figure ahead of him.

Priya.

Unless his eyes were deceiving him, he finds the sultry sashay of her hips and the quiet smirk of her eyes easy to decipher as she grows closer. What on Earth was she doing here? “Priya,” he starts.

The moment she notices him, her entire posture grows rigid. “Thomas.” She recovers in seconds, giving him a smile as the distance between them becomes less and less.

“What are you doing here?” His gaze turns into one of suspicion. “I thought I made it very clear last night where we stood.” He clears his throat.

“Oh, you did,” She responded, casually leaning up against him.

He stiffens. “Then why are you –” he steps aside from her and narrows his eyes as the realization slowly dawns on him. “You’ve spoken to Tatum.”

She jerks her chin upright and meets his suddenly hard stare. “I have.” She challenges.

His hands clench into tight fists at his sides. “You had no right –”

“Well you weren’t going to.” She interjects thinly, her voice sharp enough to make a lesser man cower.

But not Thomas. He stands straighter, boring her down with a glare fierce enough for her to step back. They weren’t simple graduate students anymore and Thomas isn’t under any impression that Priya stopped by for the goodness of her heart.

“And I couldn’t leave her in the dark.”

“In the dark?” He repeats, scowling as she steps towards the elevator. “You told her about last night.” Without a second thought, he grabs her arm. “You told her about last night. What did you say?”

“What do you think I said, Thomas?” Priya wrenches her arm free just as the doors opened with a soft ding. “You claim to always know everything – you figure it out.” There’s a flicker of anger in her eyes before it disappears.

“Priya,” Thomas swears harshly, his hand inches away to stop the elevator as it closes.

“You made your move, and now I’ve made mine.”

“Dammit, Priya!” His free hand forms a fist and slams it against the elevator shaft. But it’s too late, he knows its too late but he cannot seem to stop himself from hitting it – over and over again. It isn’t until his hands are raw and aching from the effort that he takes a step back and tries to temper his anger.

He has known Priya to be a great deal of things; smart, beautiful, determined – but he hadn’t thought her capable of anything. At least, certainly not this. He thinks telling her he was no longer interested would be the end of it. It turns out, he was wrong and Tatum suffered because of it.

At the thought of her, his chest suddenly seizes with dread. Taking a deep breath, he hurries towards her door – hoping she’d allow him to explain, hoping she wouldn’t throw him out.

As Thomas feet reaches the doorstep of her home, he hesitates. It’s okay Thomas, she’ll let you explain. She’ll let you explain because she loves you. He repeats the words to himself like a mantra until his hand stops shaking. Then taking another breath, he opens the door.

“Tatum?” He calls timidly.

There’s no answer.

Heart abruptly heavy with concern for her, Thomas quickly drops the food by the kitchen counter and sweeps past the hall. “Tatum!” He calls again, louder this time. His heart races with every footstep that carries him through every room of her home. He searches, one at a time – desperately hoping she’s still here, that she didn’t leave.

As he gets to the front again, Thomas fishes hastily for his phone. He finds her number and calls.

The phone rings and rings, until there’s no answer.

There’s only the sound of her voicemail and his heart shattering as he slips it back inside his the folds of his jacket pocket.

-

#thomas hunt x mc #thomas hunt x tatum everly #playchoices fanfiction #red carpet diaries #thomas hunt x mc fanfic #playchoices #thomas hunt #priya singh #long post #angst #here we go my dudes #I - #yeah #i thought we were done with the angst #but HERE WE ARE #thomas hunt fanfiction #Simply Between Us Part 7 #an angstymarshmallow writes

[paperficwriter]

My Own Worst Enemy

Here is a KiriBaku request I wrote for @batneko based off this fantastic prompt! Thank you for your commission, Bats!!

If you are interested in commissioning me for Boku no Hero Academia or other series, please check out my commission guidelines here!!

Cut is for length, not for content.

Of all the things that Kirishima had done in his life, including getting accepted to UA, the top hero school in the country, it all seemed like absolutely nothing compared to being able to kiss Bakugou Katsuki.

And not just kissing him. Kissing him in his room. On his bed. No one else had ever even been allowed to go into his space in the dorm, and although there wasn’t much to speak of so far as belongings went (Bakugou was pretty minimalist), he did have an actual bed. He could still remember the first time Bakugou invited him in, his heart pounding, and he lit up into a smile.

“Dude! No futon?! Seriously?”

Bakugou had rolled his eyes. “When my quirk manifested, I had to have more space, and if I didn’t sleep on a mattress I got pissed and burned holes in the floor.”

Kirishima stifled back a laugh as he jumped onto it. It was the most comfortable surface he had ever been on: a little firm but also soft. Pillowy. “That sounds like you, for sure. Does Momo know you have a bed too?” he teased.

“No. And it’s going to stay that way, Shitty Hair.”

He wasn’t sure what else they did that day. Probably studied, maybe watched some videos on his phone, but he knew that at some point he had put his head on Bakugou’s shoulder and dozed off. Class had been busy that week, he recalled, and he was stressed, and with his back pressed against the wall Bakugou had been so close and warm and…

If someone had asked a year or two before if he ever thought he would wake up with a blanket around himself and Bakugou stroking his hair...well, he would have just zoned out and fantasized about it for a minute, then shaken his head and said it would never happen. And yet. It happened, Bakugou’s fingers carding through his hair, quite obviously breaking up the product so it was soft and mostly down when he sat up.

“What?” Bakugou had asked, a pink glow brightening the bridge of his nose.

Kirishima didn’t know how to answer. In fact, he hadn’t known how to for weeks until finally he was in that room again, and he blurted that he had wanted so much for Bakugou to kiss him that night, and Bakugou stared at him and then…

Kissed him.

Had it seriously been that simple?

And sure, maybe he would like to say now that it was a romantic movie kiss with all the bells and whistles. He would have liked to look back and say that Bakugou Katsuki, who would never let anyone come even in arm’s length of him physically or emotionally, swept him off his feet, but...it was awkward, leaving him wondering if it was his first kiss too. One with too much teeth, a tongue thrust into his mouth like a creature seeking a hiding place, and at some point he thought he cut himself on one of Kirishima’s canines. A false alarm, but an alarm nevertheless.

“I guess we’ll just have to practice,” Kirishima joked, his smile turning melty when Bakugou fingered one of the spikes of his hair.

“Whatever.” Bakugou had been dismissive that day, but the following afternoon, he dragged Kirishima into his room. Then again. And again.

And he really had improved. He wanted to ask, to tease, if he had been practicing on some other pair of lips, but he was too busy falling into that warm afternoon of sunshine and ice cream and a cool breeze and all his favorite things wrapped up into one that was Bakugou kissing him. His memory about everything else sucked (at least that's what Aizawa would say) but this…this he gripped tight in his brain.

Bakugou's arm around his waist, holding him against his front where he laid on his side.

Warm, soft lips opening and then closing over his, brushing one moment, pressing hard the next.

The wet noises, the little breaths, even the brush of his fingers against his cheekbone.

If Kirishima opened his eyes - and he didn't often because Bakugou somehow always caught him and snarled at him to “stop fucking staring, weirdo” - he could see how soft Bakugou's face would become. The eyebrows normally knit in an angry 'v’ would go loose. Maybe even turn up a little. The angry line of his mouth now came in to touch his, open or puckered slightly or…

Bakugou's phone vibrated.

“Really?” Kirishima chuckled, balling his fist into Bakugou's black shirt like he was going to fight him. “You left your phone on?”

“Like you turned yours off.” There was the glare again.

“It's at least on silent!” The vibrations started again, obnoxiously loud on Bakugou's dresser. “Want to get that?”

“Fuck ‘em,” he grunted, and he gave Kirishima's bottom lip a wet lick, kissing him again as soon as his jaw dropped. “I'm busy.”

Busy. That was about the extent of it. Whenever Kirishima was in his room and either one of their friends or a classmate or even Midoriya came by, he was always “busy.” Or, if they called him while they were out together eating lunch or dinner in the city, he was “fucking busy.” And if they wandered back into the dorms together and anyone even breathed in Bakugou’s direction to ask where he had been, he’d scream that it wasn’t any of their fucking business.

Kirishima waited for that to bother him. He waited for some sort of pain to settle in, to feel maybe a little bitter or angry or upset, that Bakugou wasn’t telling everyone about him. But then...he liked this. He liked having this something with Bakugou. And he loved everything that went with it, too.

When the phone finally got to the edge of the table, Kirishima pushed Bakugou away to reach out for it. “Oh my god, dude, I can’t handle it anymore. If you’re not going to answer it, at least let me.”

Bakugou groaned as he rolled over on his back, and Kirishima had zero doubts that he would have just let it dance to the edge and clatter to the floor. “Do what you want.”

Kirishima pressed the button on the side of the phone, and there were several texts from Kaminari. Many of them were just Bakugou’s name, but the most recent one said, “Baku, you have to come see this guy. He’s huge. He has some apex predator quirk?? WHAT ARE YOU DOING??”

“Kaminari is talking about some...guy?”

Bakugou took the phone and glared at the screen for a second before he swung his legs up to stand next to the bed. Okay, maybe now Kirishima regretted messing with the phone. He wanted to go back to kissing, and instead Bakugou opened his door. A new challenger had approached and Bakugou clearly had to see if his territory was being threatened. “Come on. Let’s check it out.”

Once they were both out in the hall, they could see and hear clearly that there was a commotion down by the common room. Both boys and girls from not only 1-A but other classrooms were gathered around a single figure, a figure so tall that they loomed over the heads of the students. It was hard not to notice the dramatic bearing of the person who frankly looked more like a teacher than one of their own, and it was only the uniform that gave it away. He (Kirishima didn’t want to make assumptions about gender, but it was difficult not to, given his physical appearance) was broad-chested, and he had the traits of a lion. Kirishima had seen other people with animal characteristics - Tokoyami, of course, and Hound Dog came immediately to mind - but this guy was…a lion. With a gorgeous full mane around his head, gold eyes, and rich sandy fur that seemed to cover his entire body. When he smiled, he showed off perfect, sharp teeth.

“Wow,” Kirishima breathed.

“What?!” Bakugou snapped.

“Nothing! He’s just…” He whistled low, avoiding Bakugou’s narrowed gaze. “You have to admit he looks really cool.”

“Appearances aren’t everything,” Bakugou huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as they wandered up to where the crowd was a steady buzz of sound. When he heard Kaminari’s voice, Bakugou glanced up again when he joined them. “So what’s with this guy, Drooly?”

Kaminari’s face appeared as excited as Kirishima felt. “So his name is Yuri, right? I mean, that’s not really his name, but that’s what he chose for his exchange name. And he’s a transfer student from a sister city in another country and he’s going to live with us for a few weeks and he’s super nice and cool and --”

“Fuck, just suck his cock already,” Bakugou interrupted, rolling his eyes. “What about his quirk?”

“Oh yeah!” Kaminari, as always, was completely unfazed by Bakugou’s attitude. “He was talking about how he has this quirk that kind of jives with his lion genes from his dad’s size of the family, and he can, like, grow his fangs and his claws and run really fast and --”

“I guess it doesn’t suck,” Bakugou concluded. “Where does he rank in his school?”

Kirishima elbowed him lightly. “Somehow I doubt he’s bothered talking about where he places in grades, unlike some people...”

“Actually, he’s third! Just like you, Bakugou!”

He couldn’t be entirely sure, but did Kirishima see Bakugou just tense slightly? Sure, he could get pissy about the fact that Iida and Yaoyorozu were both ahead of him, but Yuri wasn’t even enrolled at UA. Why did he care?

“Excuse me.”

Bakugou, Kirishima and Kaminari turned at the sound of the voice. Yuri was standing right in front of them, two duffel bags casually over one shoulder, and the crowd had parted but remained hovering around him, watching the interaction with close interest. He smiled, and Kirishima had never thought that he would care that much about what someone’s voice sounded like, but Yuri could read the dictionary and he’d be happy. It was smooth and rich, the deepest voice he had ever heard, and despite his accent, he spoke their language flawlessly. “Are you Kirishima Eijirou?”

“Me? Yeah. Yeah! Hi!” Why was he feeling nervous? He shook his hand rather vigorously. “Nice to meet you!”

“I read about the fight you were involved in when you were serving as intern with Fatgum and cooperating with the professional heroes in this region. It was very impressive.” Man, oh man, that voice. So manly. “When I saw that I would be staying in your school’s dorms for a week, I hoped I would be able to meet you.”

Kirishima blushed, and it was only because he had turned his head down sheepishly that he caught the expression on Bakugou’s face, one that was close to scathing. “You’ve probably heard of Bakugou Katsuki, too!” Kirishima blurted. “He won the sports festival during our first year.”

“Ah, yes.” It was hard to read the tone Yuri’s words took on, then, but he spoke slowly. Deliberately. “You were quite something, Bakugou. Although it did not seem you were satisfied with the result, despite your success. I could not help wondering if your fellow classmates appreciated your careless regard for your win.”

Kirishima and Kaminari exchanged a glance.

“Maybe they should have been fucking better, and they could have gotten that piece of shit medal, then.” Bakugou squared his shoulders. Kirishima knew he was waiting for Yuri to throw some other slight his way so he could knock it out. That’s usually how these interactions went, anyway.

But it never happened.

It was like a light switch being flipped. Rather than following up, Yuri returned his full attention to Kirishima, blinking slowly as his dark lips spread into a grin. “I will be staying here in the city for some time. Perhaps we could go have some dinner together?”

It took Kirishima at least ten seconds to realize that he was being asked out. And maybe it wasn’t a date but...it wasn’t not a date either.

“Maybe!” he finally chirped. “That could be fun, right, Bakugou?”

He wished he was more surprised when he turned to see Bakugou stalking away. Yet somehow, that was just the way he was: Bakugou Katsuki, volatile and yet somehow completely predictable, more ticking time bomb than hand grenade.

---

“I don’t like that fucking guy,” Bakugou said as he stabbed his spicy curry with his chopsticks. He hated that he kept glancing up at Kirishima talking to that giant housecat. They would grin and talk, and now and then he would catch him flexing for Kirishima, or showing his sharp claws, or…

“I think he’s nice!” Ashido gushed, sipping her tea. Kaminari and Sero nodded in agreement, and he scowled at all of them. What did they know?

“You would.”

“I think he’s just pissy because Kirishima is spending more time with Yuri than he is with him,” Sero pointed out, like Bakugou wasn't sitting right there in front of them.

“Fuck off. I don’t give a shit who he hangs out with.”

“Oh yeah? Is that why you keep shoving Kirishima into the classroom when Yuri is calling for him down the hall?” Kaminari volunteered.

“Or why when Aizawa was going to partner Yuri and Kirishima for sparring you practically screamed that you volunteered to fight Kirishima instead?”

“Or when you pretty much yelled in his face that Kirishima had a study date with you and that’s why he couldn't go out for karaoke?”

“All right, you fucking asshats, I didn’t ask for your opinion!” When Bakugou got up, his chair clattered to the floor behind him. He didn’t have to listen to this shit. Flipping them off, he stormed over to the garbage can to throw away the remnants of lunch. Hell, he’d barely touched anything. He had thought when he bought Kirishima lunch that he would finally get a chance to just sit down with him and talk for five seconds, but the minute Yuri came over, that had been it. Maybe it wasn’t that big of a surprise that he lost his appetite.

As he shoved his hands into his pockets and headed out to the lawn, kicking the door open in front of him, he could still hear those three fuckwits laughing in his ears. They hadn’t been wrong, and that was the worst of all. It made his insides feel as explosive as his hands when he thought about each of those occurrences. And not once had Yuri been a shit to him about it, not like Bakugou would have been if the tables were turned. Despite his big, bad appearance, Yuri completely tuned him out, his entire focus on Kirishima.

Kirishima, who definitely didn’t seem opposed to the attention.

And it wasn’t like Bakugou had gone silently into this whole situation. He had mentioned it to Kirishima at least several times. “I don’t get why you even like hanging around him,” he said, lying on the bed. He had wanted to go back to where they were that first day, but Kirishima kept sitting up, legs crossed, looking at his phone and reading over snippets of translated articles about Yuri and his school. “Don't get used to him. He’s going to be gone before you know it.”

“He’s really an awesome guy,” Kirishima said, not looking up. “He’s in all these clubs, and he interned for a big-name hero in his country. He has a lot of great stories! Give him a chance!”

“I have to focus on school. And you should be, too, jackass.”

Kirishima had shoved him over, grinning down at him. “I’ll catch up on studying! I promise.”

The whole scenario had left a bitter taste in Bakugou’s mouth.

“Bakugou?” Even at the sound of his name, Bakugou didn’t turn as he kicked his way through the manicured grass. He didn’t have to. He recognized Yuri’s voice immediately, the cadence with which he said his name, the consonants popping on his tongue. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

“Better keep up, then. I’ve got shit to do.” Maybe he would get tired of following him. Why was he here? He didn’t want to talk to this guy…

Even despite his efforts, he could hear the grass crunch as Yuri jogged up to his side. The wind rolled across the quad, ruffling his mane in a way that made Bakugou hate him even more, because it was perfect, like a goddamned commercial with his stupid face on it. “There is something I am not clear about, and I have been unable to confirm this with you or with Kirishima.”

“Yeah, what?”

“Is Kirishima your boyfriend, or is he not?”

That got his attention. Bakugou stopped walking. “What the...why the fuck are you asking me that?”

Yuri put his hands on his wide hips, and Bakugou hated how much taller he was, forcing him to crane his neck up. “I can tell that there is something between the two of you, but...you are never...particularly kind to him. There is a physical chemistry, but I cannot tell if you have a relationship or if you do not.”

Bakugou wasn’t sure what he was going to say but even the start of the word crackled and dissipated in his throat. He tried again. Nothing. “That’s none of your fucking business!” he finally expelled. That had worked fine before with everyone else.

And yet…

“It is my business, Bakugou,” Yuri said patiently. “Because I wish to court Kirishima, but I cannot do this if I do not understand the nature of your bond.” Now Bakugou was fuming. Courting? Bond?! “Are you intimate with Kirishima? Are you engaging in --”

“Shut up! Don’t ask me that shit!” For lack of further response, though, since Bakugou did not want him to continue that line of questioning, he finally allowed himself to admit, “But yeah, we make out and stuff.”

A slow nod. “But you are not boyfriends?”

“What the fuck does that even mean?!”

“So...you are not.”

“I...We…” Bakugou felt like he was choking. Suddenly he was reminded of the sludge monster, of drowning in the black ectoplasmic goo when he was trapped by the League of Villains. As much as he wanted to reply, he couldn’t. Couldn’t focus, couldn’t find the words, couldn’t get the air behind what might have been the words.

Yuri’s expression changed. Suddenly he seemed less annoyed, and more...sympathetic, and that only made Bakugou’s rage build. “Do you have feelings for him?”

Bakugou wanted to run away. “Do I look like the kind of asshole who would make out with someone I don’t care about?”

“Have you spoken with him about how you feel?”

“He knows!” Small explosions set off in Bakugou’s palms without him even intending for them to, and his voice had become so shrill it echoed in the field. Kirishima knew. He had to know. Right?

Yuri didn’t look away, not even flinching from Bakugou’s quirk triggering. His words were flat. Calm. “Are you certain? Perhaps your ‘making out’ is enough for him. Maybe you are not together because he is waiting for someone who is more deserving of him. Someone who will treat him like a whole person, who will do ‘stuff’ with him but also be kind. Who will love him.” He shrugged. “Maybe he does not want you.”

Maybe he does not want you.

Bakugou didn’t remember what happened between the field and his dorm room. He might have bitten off another curse at Yuri, or he might have just run away. It didn’t matter. His stomach was in knots, and it hurt worse than when All Might had gut-punched him during their exams in the first year. His brain was trying to play back recordings of every conversation between him and Kirishima, and each one brought back...nothing. He had always been left assuming that this - whatever this was - worked for Kirishima, that he was happy with it.

But now…

Doubt.

Doubt that left him lying on his bed for several hours until there was a knock at the door. One that he recognized. God, was that how well he knew him? That he could tell when it was him knocking on his dorm room door? Bakugou stayed where he was, until he knocked again.

“Bakugou? You around?” he finally called.

“Go away.”

“That sounds like a ‘yes’!” Fuck, he could hear his smile, and it hurt to picture it, to recall the taste of it. “Can I come in?”

“Which part of ‘go away’ don’t you understand, Shitty Hair?”

Of course the door opened, and Kirishima walked in like he owned the place. He had changed out of his uniform into his t-shirt and shorts, plopping down on Bakugou’s bed across from him. “You know that if you don’t tell me just ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ I’m going to interpret what you’re saying as Bakugou-speak for ‘I want you around but I’m too much of a baby to tell you.’”

“Oh, fuck off.” Bakugou grabbed his pillow and shoved it against his stomach. For a moment, everything in the room was silent. Why was Kirishima just staring at him? “So. Did Simba ask you out or what?”

“Yeah.”

Here it comes. Bakugou braced himself for it. “What did you say?”

Kirishima smirked. “What do you think?”

Maybe it was the way Kirishima responded, but it sparked at the circle of gasoline that had been soaking around Bakugou’s heart, and he all but yelled, “I think you should just fucking say ‘yes’ and get it over with. Have lots of fucking manly furry babies for all I care. You two deserve each other.”

And then something happened that Bakugou wouldn’t have expected in a million years.

Kirishima laughed at him. He laughed and grabbed him up, pillow and all, and pulled him into a hug that he refused to loosen. “Is that what all this has been about?! Is this why you’ve been acting so cagey the last few weeks?”

Bakugou figured he would push him away, shove him off the bed, or even roll away, but he didn’t. He might have slapped a little at Kirishima’s chest, but it only made him more intent to have his way and cuddle Bakugou into submission. “I said I don’t care,” he mumbled bitterly.

“Yeah, you very clearly don’t care.” Kirishima’s fingers stroked his wild blonde spikes, and even in spite of himself Bakugou could feel his body relax, his muscles loosen. “I said ‘no,’ you know. I wouldn’t do that to you. Obviously.”

“Don't fucking ‘obviously’ at me.”

Another laugh. “You're the one I want.”

“Even though we’re not…” Bakugou buried his face in Kirishima’s shoulder. “I’m so shitty with this kind of thing. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you weren’t serious.”

“Are you serious?”

“I’m always serious.” He reached his arm around his side so he could tug his shirt, pull him in closer. Even without his quirk, Kirishima was a rock. “Especially with you.”

“You don’t think I know?” Kirishima paused to kiss his temple, and Bakugou made a little sound at the affectionate gesture. “After all those study dates and massages and buying me meals and cheering me up? Those mean a lot more to me than any ‘relationship talk,’ dude.”

Bakugou was still, breathing in the clean scent of Kirishima, of his freshly laundered clothes, the shower he had taken. They had gone so long without talking about any of this, and he wasn’t about to start, but… “You’re really okay with this?”

“By ‘this,’ do you mean...you?” Kirishima sounded so tender, soft and sincere, and when he rolled Bakugou over to kiss him, Bakugou let him take the reigns.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

#my paperfics #boku no hero academia #kiribaku #bakushima #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #sweet boys who are so dumb but so in love with each other

[jd-rush]

Chuck help me--I committed fanfic: Tony Stark meets the Guardians of the Galaxy.

TITLE: Units From Heaven* AUTHOR:  J.D. Rush FANDOM:  MARVEL, MCU--Iron Man and Guardians of the Galaxy PAIRING:  Tony Stark/Peter Quill kinda RATING:  R for excessive f-bombs and sexual innuendo  (I mean, it IS Tony Stark after all) SPOILERS:  a couple of minor ones for “Guardians of the Galaxy 2”, nothing too damaging SUMMARY:  The Guardians arrive on Earth with a dire warning.  Perhaps someone should have warned them about Anthony Edward Stark.  Takes place approximately three years after “Captain America:  Civil War”, and the Avengers are still estranged.  (I guess that's the nicest word for it.) DISCLAIMER:  Characters belong to MARVEL and Disney and anyone else who could sue me.  I also stole borrowed a couple of lines from “The Avengers”.  I’ll return them when I’m done with them. AUTHOR'S NOTE:  Humour, it's what I do.  This turned out more cracky than I expected, and while I poke fun at Tony, it's done with deep love.  Also, I don't know how long it takes Groot’s species to age or how the aging process works in space; for the sake of argument, let's say he's now the equivalent of early 20's, ‘kay? SECOND AUTHOR'S NOTE:  Many thanks to my lovely friend, Michele, for giving me the encouragement to write this, even though it meant putting up with my current Iron Man obsession and my crippling writer's block.  The XF joke is just for you, sweetie.

Italics mean inner thoughts

“Boss, an unidentified flying object has landed in the south corner of the Compound.”

“Unidentified?  As in. . .”

“As in a space ship, Boss.  It just appeared and. . .”

Tony Stark didn’t wait to hear the rest of what FRIDAY had to say.  With a flick of his wrist, his armor formed around him; in the blink of an eye, he was suited up and flying out to meet his ultimate nightmare.  He had been preparing for this moment for years, and he was ready.  Whatever came out of that ship was going to regret even thinking about coming to Earth, let alone being stupid enough to actually do it.

Tony landed about ten feet from the brightly coloured alien craft, the mid-day sun reflecting off its vivid blue and orange hull.  He barely had a moment to be thankful that he had stuck to classic hot-rod red and gold for his suit when he noticed a side door begin to lower and a shadow crossed the opened hatch.  Bracing his hands in front of him, Tony powered up his repulsors.  

Okay, Stark, here we go.  Showtime.  Shoot first, ask questions later.  Bring it on, you space motherfuckers.  You are going DOWN!

The invader appeared.  It was a large grey bald male humanoid; shirtless, his bare torso was covered in intricate scarlet scars.  He wandered slowly out of the ship, his red-rimmed ice blue eyes looking around in wonder, a big smile on his pudgy face.

“What the fuck?” Tony muttered under his breath.

The first visitor was followed by another male humanoid who was wearing some kind of metal mask with red-disk eye lenses which rendered his face completely unreadable and reminded Tony a bit too much of that putz, Ant-Man.  He was decked out in a long brown leather duster, two high-tech guns strapped to his waist like a genuine space cowboy.

“No, what the actual fuck?” Tony asked again.

At that point, two shapely female aliens made their way down the ship's ramp--one was a stunning brunette with green skin, the other was pretty with pale skin, big dark eyes and two tiny stalks protruding from her head.  Tony gave them the once-over and nodded.

“Okay, hot chicks.  Good.  I can work with that, even the antenna.  But I still gotta ask. . . What.  The.  Fuck?”

He didn't get an answer.  Instead he got a fifth alien, and this one was definitely not humanoid.  In fact, it looked like a raccoon, walking on its hind legs, and wearing a uniform that contained more weaponry than Black Widow on a normal Thursday morning.  Tony tried to remember if he had gotten drunk last night so he could explain all this away as nothing more than a severe hangover.

“What in the name of fuckitude is going on here?” Tony groused.  “I seriously don’t get paid enough to deal with this shit, and I get paid a fuck-ton, thank you very much.”

The words were barely out of his mouth when a tall tree-like creature lumbered out of the ship and walked over to stand with the others.  With a disbelieving headshake, Tony threw up his hands in defeat.  “You know what?  I’m out of fucks.  Seriously, there are not enough fucks in my data bank for this.  I surrender.  Take me to your leader.  What the fuck ever.”

“I am Groot,” the tree-creature rumbled, its arms--or rather limbs--stretched out wide in greeting.

“Yeah, right, you come in peace,” Tony snorted with a sarcastic laugh.  “I’ve seen that movie, pal.  Not buying what you're selling.”

“I am Groot,” the creature repeated, the tone of the words slightly different from the first time.

Hearing that, Tony lowered his hands.  Retracting his helmet, he glanced over his left shoulder towards the cluster of trees at the edge of the field.  “Yeah, I suppose she’s sexy.  For a tree.  I don’t know.  Elms never did it for me.  Give me a Northern Red Oak anytime.  Nothing like a redhead, right?”

“I am Groot?” the creature asked, curiously.

“Nah, none around here," Tony answered.  "Sorry, bud.  Get it?  I called you ‘bud’, because you're a tree and you sprout buds.  Or maybe you don't, seeing as you're an alien tree.  Maybe you sprout, I don't know, starfish or cupcakes or something weird like that.  Although a cupcake sprouting tree would be pretty fucking fantastic, now that I think about it.”

“I am Groot!”  Now the creature sounded miffed.

“Hey, not my fault for once,” Tony fired back.  “I wanted to plant some, but Bruce wouldn't have it.  He’s a big Earth Day kind of guy.  ‘You can’t bring in non-native plants, Tony.’  ‘They mess with the ecosystem, Tony.’  ‘I told you to buy organic, water-based lube, Tony.’  Do you know how hard it is to find that in Key Lime Pie flavour?  I mean, don’t get me wrong.  He’s a total honeybun.  Well, when he’s not turning into a big green rage monster.”  He gestured over at the green female alien.  “I can hook you up with him.  You two would make a good looking couple.”

“Wait a minute!” Cos-play Ant-Man cut in, obviously flustered.  Pointing at the tree creature, he asked, “You understand him?”   “Well, yeah,” Tony replied, “he’s a great conversationalist.  Much more eloquent than our current (sarcastic air quotes) ‘president’, I can tell you that for free.”

“I am Groot.”

Tony let out a loud belly laugh.  “You got that right!  I‘ve done business with that douche canoe.  *I* sure as hell didn't vote for him.”

The cowboy stepped forward and demanded, “HOW can you understand him?  I've been traveling with him for YEARS and I still don't get it!”

With a shrug of his armor-covered shoulders, Tony remarked, “Compared to Dum-E, he’s practically Oscar Wilde.”

Retracting his own helmet, Definitely Not Ant-Man said, “I have no idea who that is.  And what is a Dum-E?”

Tony was momentarily knocked breathless by the handsome green-eyed, artfully-bearded face that the helmet revealed.  “Whoa!  Wow!  Was not expecting that!  FRIDAY, take a note--the chicks aren’t the only hot aliens on that ship.”

“If you call me a chick once more, I'll pull your spleen out through your nose and make you eat it," the green chick, ahhh, female humanoid snarled.

“No offense intended," Tony quickly apologized.  “Seriously, I meant it strictly as a compliment.  You’re total babes.  Plus, I sort of don’t know your names.”

The green alien chick, ahhh, babe, ahhh, lady tilted her head and narrowed her eyes menacingly, causing Tony to take a step back in case his spleen was still in danger. (He wasn’t entirely sure what a spleen was but he certainly didn't want to eat one, especially his own).  After a moment, she conceded, “Okay, I'll let it slide.  For now.”

“She's getting soft,” the furry raccoon-like being chuckled.

She turned her glare on the critter, for which Tony was thankful.  “I’ll show you soft,” she hissed.

“I’ve seen her soft and it’s not half bad,” Hunky Not-Ant Man smirked, and Tony fell just a little bit in love with him.

Green girl took a deep breath, released it slowly, and started again. “I’m Gamora.  And this,” motioning to the bug alien, “is Mantis.”

Mantis smiled, making her already pretty face glow.  “Hello, you have a beautiful world,” she said, her voice soft and soothing.  “I look forward to seeing more.”

“So do I,” Tony replied, suavely, throwing in a wink for good measure.

“Don’t tell me--you flirt with everyone, don‘t you?” Gamora asked.

“Pretty much, yeah,” Tony admitted with a smug grin

Shaking her head in dismay, Gamora muttered, “Great.  Another one.  What did I ever do to deserve this?”

“You were an intergalactic assassin who killed many people and destroyed untold lives,” the big bald alien stated matter-of-factly.

“Yes, right I did do that,” Gamora admitted between gritted teeth.  “Thank you for reminding me.”

“You are welcome,” the big bald alien said, totally without sarcasm or irony. “However, I do not understand how you could forget something like that.”

Gamora clenched her fists tightly and took another deep breath.  The calming techniques Mantis had taught her usually worked when she was ready to kill her crewmates, though not always as the hole she had recently punched in the galley’s door would testify.  Pointing to the big bald paisley-printed alien she continued, “That’s Drax and the ‘other hot alien’ as you so obnoxiously put it, is our captain, Peter Quill.”

“I am Groot,” the tree announced proudly.

"You've already met Groot," Gamora commented dryly, “and last but not least. . .”

“I'm Rocket,” the furry animal creature cut in.  Looking up at Gamora, he snarked, “Sorry, sweets, but I was growing old waiting for you to get to me.  We’re The Guardians of the Galaxy. It’s what we call ourselves.  Sort of like a team.  ‘The Universe’s Mightiest Heroes’ type thing.”

“That’s my line,” Tony grumbled under his breath.

“Actually, they call me Star-Lord,” Quill corrected as he stepped forward, hand extended, pointedly ignoring Gamora’s eye roll.

“And you can call me anytime,” Tony crooned in his best seductive voice, which was pretty damn good.  His right gauntlet folded back upon itself effortlessly and he grasped Quill’s warm hand, shaking it a bit longer than necessary.  Quill blushed slightly, which made Tony grin.  'I still got it', he thought cheerfully.

“We know who you are, Anthony Stark,” Gamora said, interrupting the magical moment.

“It's why we chose this spot to land,” Mantis added with a nod of her head which made her antennae bounce gently.  

Tony stop shaking Quill's hand (much to the man’s disappointment) and regarded the two females suspiciously.  “You know me?  How?  ‘Cause if it was those damn YouTube videos again, I swear I’m just gonna buy that fucking company and burn it to the ground.  I don't care what my lawyers say.”

“Ain’t you Iron Man, the guy that blew up the Chitauri army?” Rocket asked, waving at Tony's armor.  “I mean, ‘cause your outfit is kind of a dead give-away.  Great suit, by the way.  Nice and shiny.”

“Thanks, I polished it today.  You wouldn't believe the amount of Turtle Wax I go through in a week, and that's not including the extra-curricular activities.  And yeah, I nuked some alien space ships, but in my defense, they were sort of destroying Manhattan at the time, so they definitely deserved it.”

“Your name is known throughout the cosmos,” Mantis informed him, respect and awe in her voice.

“They sing songs of you and your legendary deeds!” Drax boomed, excitedly.

Tony pondered that for a moment before saying, “Well, I suppose that weekend party at Hef's in ‘05 would qualify me as a ’legend’ but that doesn’t explain how YOU know who I am.”

“I am Groot.”

At that, Tony eyed the group skeptically, then shook his head.  “Bullshit.  You're pulling my leg.”

“That is impossible,” Drax declared emphatically.  “We are standing too far away to even touch you let alone pull your leg.”  Off to the side, Quill did a dramatic face-palm.

Tony continued to study the individuals in front of him, searching for any sign that they were joking but it was obvious they were serious.  He laughed uneasily.  “No, ah. . .see, I think you’re mistaken.  I’m not even a hero on this planet, let alone across the universe.  You can ask anyone.  I mean, Rogers probably has a entire notebook filled with my faults.  And I’m pretty sure S.H.I.E.L.D. had to start a second file cabinet.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Mr. Stark,” Quill said.  “You actions saved many worlds from invasion.  Billions of beings, trillions maybe, owe their lives to you.  You are indeed a hero, and it is an honour to finally meet you.”

For once in his life, Anthony Edward Stark was truly speechless.  He just stared at the six beings in front of him as he tried to process what they were saying.  He couldn't remember the last time he had been told he did something good, never mind getting any praise for it.  “I, ah. . .wow.  Okay. Thanks,” he finally stammered.  “That’s, um, good to know, I guess.  It still doesn’t quite explain why you’re here, though.  I mean, you could have just sent me a cookie bouquet or something.”

“We're here because of Thanos,” Gamora stated simply.  

“Say who?” Tony shot back.

“He’s Gamora's father,” Mantis answered.

“Adoptive father,” Gamora corrected. “Intergalactic terrorist, genocidal maniac, menace to all life forms. . .“

“Big time dickbag,“ Rocket added, disdainfully.  

“Yeah, that, too,” Gamora agreed.  “He wants to rule the universe and impose his will on every living creature in it.  And Terra is first on his list.”

Tony huffed.  “I‘m guessing we‘re ‘Terra‘?” At Gamora‘s nod, he whinged, “Jesus Christ on a fucking crutch.  What did we do to piss him off?”

“Besides blow up his army?” Rocket retorted.

“You ever hear of the Infinity Gauntlet?”  Quill asked.

“Opening band for Black Sabbath?” Tony guessed.

Gamora just grimaced.  “Why am I destined to be surrounded by the biggest idiots in the galaxy?”

Quill quickly began talking fast before Gamora's sword made an appearance.  “Best as I can explain it, there’s this glove, and it holds these six stones. . .”

“Infinity Stones,” Rocket supplied.

“Right, Infinity Stones,” Quill continued. “They’re really old and super powerful and whoever has the glove and those stones can rule the universe.  Thanos already has four, so once he gets the final two. . .”

“The Mind Stone and the Time Stone,” Tony interrupted.

Mantis's already big eyes grew bigger in surprise.  “How do you know about those?” she asked breathlessly.

“Oh, that's easy,” Tony said.  "I've got them."

"WHAT?!??!" the Guardians all exclaimed, well, all except Groot, who exclaimed, “I AM GROOT!”

“Not ME personally," Tony clarified.  “My friend, Stephen Strange, has one of them.  Well, I SAY friend.  Sorry.  Bad ‘Sherlock’ joke.  Had to do it.  Anyway, it’s encased in this pendant called the Eye of Amaretto or something like that.  Tacky ass thing, but major league hoodoo I can tell you that.  We got drunk once and he used it to turn me back into a virgin so he and Rhodey could. . .”

“And the other stone?” Gamora prompted, not wanting to know where that story was going.

“Yeah, the Mind Stone.”  Tony chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.  “Well, it's currently embedded in the head of my accidental mystical android son.”

Gamora rubbed her eyes tiredly and groaned, “I really don't even want to know.”  Tony got the feeling that was her default reaction to most things.  “The point is, we have to get to them before he does or else. . .”

Quill mouthed ‘Ka-Boom’ while miming an explosion with his hands.

Tony mulled their words over before confirming, “So you're telling me that we’re going to be invaded by space aliens again.  Extra-terrestrial armies, space ships, powerful super-beings, advanced weapons, all that shit, right?”

“Exactly,” Quill replied.  “That’s why we journeyed across the galaxy.  To warn you and maybe help Terra prepare for. . .”

But he didn‘t get to finish what he was saying as Tony let out a sudden, excited shout, “That is fucking AWESOME!”

Everyone just stared at Tony in confused silence until Drax asked, cautiously, “It is?”

“Fucking A+ it is!”   Glancing upwards, Tony screamed to the sky, “You hear that, Rogers!  I was right, you sanctimonious twatwaffle!  You and Barton can both eat me!”

Rocket snorted.  "Twatwaffle.  I like that.  I'm stealing it."

"What else is new?" Gamora scoffed.

“Um. . .” Quill started, but Tony just talked right over him.  “For years I tried to tell them.  I kept saying, ‘The aliens are coming back‘.  ‘They’re gonna kick our asses‘.  ‘They’ll make New York look like a day at Disneyland’, but would they listen to me?  Oh no.  They were all like ‘You’re crazy, Tony.’  ‘You’re drunk, Tony‘.  ‘You’re being paranoid, Tony.’  ‘You’re talking out of your ass, Tony.’  Well, suck my hairy balls, you assclowns, because I fucking NAILED IT!”  He ended his victory speech with a couple of fist pumps and a happy ‘robot dance’, including some moon walking which looked rather graceful even in the armor, proving it probably wasn't the first time he had done it.

Quill gave a long, low whistle of approval.  “Sick moves, bro!”

“Like 'em?” Tony said with a saucy smirk.  “Had a private session with Beyonce once.  And then we did some actual dancing.”

Mantis leaned towards Gamora and asked uneasily, “Are we sure this is the man who will save the universe?”

Gamora stepped forward, determined to reason with this obviously eccentric (though desperately needed) man and get their mission back on track.  “Mr. Stark, if you would just. . .”

Tony held up his hand to silence her.  “No, no, sweetheart.  Wait a minute.  Let me enjoy this for a few seconds.  I’ve earned it.  And please, it’s Tony.”

“I like this guy,” Rocket announced, hands--or rather, paws--on his tiny hips.

“As I was saying, TONY,” Gamora continued, undaunted, “super villain on the way, imminent interplanetary war, millions of planets at stake, not much time.  Need a plan.  Is there some place we can talk?”

“Yeah, sure, you can all stay up at the Compound,” Tony replied, breezily.  “We’ve got plenty of room.  Most of the team is out on a mission right now.  I only stayed behind because I promised Parker I’d help him with his senior class science project.  Not that he really needs it—the kid’s a goddamn genius but he seems to like my input for some reason.  I think he does it for the hugs and the Double Stuf Oreos.  And Strange is mixing it up in the multi-verse somewhere.  He’s gonna be so stoked to meet you, Star-Lord.  All the awesome facial hair bros!”

Quill's smile was almost blinding.  “You called me Star-Lord!”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Tony commented.  “It’s much cooler than ‘Peter’, and cool’s the rule right?  Hey, I just thought of something--I've got TWO Peters now!  I really should make some kind of pervy sex pun about that.”

“Please don’t,” Gamora muttered.  “It’s really not necessary.”

“You don’t know me very well,” Tony grinned.  “Man, I can't wait until Rhodey gets a load of you guys.  He's gonna lose his shit!”

“Isn’t that what you want to do with sh--” Drax began but Gamora quickly cut him off before he could finish.  “And our ship?”

“Don’t worry about your ship--it’ll be totally safe.  Eject!”  With that, the Iron Man suit opened and Tony stepped out, dressed in the tight black jeans and even tighter black tank top he was wearing when FRIDAY had sounded the alarm.

“GUH!” Quill gasped as Tony Stark was fully revealed for the first time, noting that he DEFINITELY put that smoking hot Rajak girl to shame.

Tony preened a bit.  ’Oh yeah, definitely still got it’, he thought, but instead he patted the suit‘s shoulder and said, “52 here will watch over it for you.  He'll like that.  Will make him feel useful.  Sentry mode.”  At the command, the suit closed back up and raised its arms to chest level, repulsors at the ready.

“Fucking cool,” Rocket stated, clearly impressed.

Tony preened some more.  He liked it when people geeked out with him over his tech--even when those people were walking, talking raccoon-like things.  “I know, right?  You should see the awesome shit I’ve got in development.  I’ll give you a tour of my lab later.  You’ll love it.  Your whiskers may never stop twitching.”  

“That might not be a great idea,” Quill warned, recognizing the scheming twinkle in Rocket’s eye.  

“Nah, it’s a great idea.  I always have great ideas.”  Slinging an arm around Quill’s shoulders, Tony started leading him towards the Compound.   “For instance, there was this one time that me and Reed Richards--great guy, maybe you‘ll get to meet him if Disney ever gets the rights back from FOX--anyway, we had this idea to. . . oh wow, is that an actual Zune?  Cool.  Haven't seen one of those in years.  Retro-tech.  You'll get along great with Parker.  That’s my other Peter by the way.  Still haven’t thought of a good sex pun yet.  Seriously, you should see what that kid can do with a Nintendo Game boy, a roll of copper wire, and a box of Legos.  Here,” digging into the back pocket of his jeans, Tony slapped a cellphone into Quill’s hand. “Starkphone 8.0  Latest model.  Not even on the market yet."

“Why would I need a phone in outer space?” Quill asked, puzzled.

“It holds 50,000 songs, not including the entire AC/DC song library, which comes pre-loaded,” Tony explained.  “Cost me a fortune for the copyrights, but totally worth it.  Can you believe there are people out there that don't know the words to 'Highway to Hell'?  I mean, what's wrong with this world?  Maybe I should let Thermos have it after all.”

“Thanos,” Rocket corrected.

Tony waved his hand dismissively.  “Him, too.”

Gamora shook her head and admonished, “Is everything a joke to you?”

“Funny things are,” Tony shot back automatically.  “Whoa, déjà vu!”

“Did you say FIFTY thou--?”  Quill couldn’t even find the words he was so overwhelmed.  Throwing his arms around Tony, he gave the man a huge bear hug.  “I love you, bro.”

“Yeah, I hear that a lot,” Tony laughed, patting Quill on the back.  “Would this be a good time to tell you I fully intend to go old school Captain Kirk on you later?  Explore the final frontier, if you get my drift.”

“Just so you know, I don‘t put out just for a phone, even one as awesome as this,” Quill bantered back, caressing said phone as if it were the greatest treasure in the universe.  “You also have to buy me dinner.”

Tony squeezed Quill‘s shoulder and grinned widely.  “Oh absolutely, Star-Lord.  I know how to properly woo a guy.  Way to a man’s heart, all that jazz.  Hey, do you like shawarma?  I know this great place.  They deliver.  Well, they’ll deliver for me.  They’re back in the city so it’ll take a couple of hours but I guarantee it’s the best food you folks have ever eaten.”  Calling over his shoulder to the other Guardians, he asked, “Anyone else in?”

“I should like to try it,” Mantis said with an excited smile, hurrying to catch up with Tony and Quill.  “I like experiencing new things.”

“There are so many ways I could respond to that, but most of them will get me slapped,” Tony quipped.

“Or worse,” Quill said.  Leaning close to Tony’s ear, he whispered, “Drax kinda has a crush on her, and his nickname is ‘The Destroyer’.”

“Say no more,” Tony whispered back, happy for the warning, though truthfully he only had eyes for Captain Hottie anyway.  To Mantis he said, “Just follow me, my dear lady.  I’ve got a whole world of new things to show you.”  To the others, he gestured grandly towards the Compound,  “C’mon Treebeard.  You too, Crash Bandicoot.  Right this way.”

“I am Groot?”

Tony stopped, turned around, and dramatically clutched at his chest in horror.  “Are you kidding me?  You don't know who Treebeard is?  Fuck me sideways.”

“Do-able” Quill mumbled.

“That’s it, we're definitely watching 'Lord of the Rings' tonight.  The Director's Cut.  You’ll love it.  Oh, and don’t even think about stealing the suit, Meeko,” Tony warned, seeing Rocket making a move towards the Iron Man armor.  “First off, it’s coded just to me, myself, and I, and it’ll turn you into a smoking grease spot faster than you can say ’boy, that was a dumb fucking thing to do.’ And second, it wouldn’t fit you anyway. No sweat.  I can build you one.  I’ve got some odds and ends hanging around the workshop.  Should only take me a day or two.”  He motioned to the last two Guardians.  “You joining us, Green Bean?  Conundrum?  Shawarma for everyone!”

Drax followed along after the others, musing aloud, “How is it possible that he can talk out of his ass?  They did not mention that in any of the tales.  Indeed, he is a hero worthy of song!”

“Fuck my life,” Gamora muttered as she trudged after her team, knowing the hole in the galley door was going to have a new friend very soon.  

THE END *Title is a play on the phrase, "Pennies from Heaven", ie. unexpected good fortune, and as GotG use 'units' instead of money, well, there you go.

#fanfic #tony stark #iron man #guardians of the galaxy #text

[coffeecupandteatime]

Obscure Review #5

It’s time to spork fics and ruin lives.

I’m Coffee and we’re still putting up with this trainwreck for some reason. Don’t ask me why. Ask Tea.

All the jokes can be made that and this fic is an abomination to the wonderful world that is Percy Jackson and the Olympians/ Heroes of Olympus. I’ve got a bone to pick with this fic. I’m Tea and I approve this message.

I want my refund. ʕಥᴥಥʔ

That wasn’t in the contract, Jager. You must waste your precious time sporking awful fics.

Then give me a bottle of Jack.

Done.

As usual, we will be offensive. Don’t take this personally.

Chapter 3

Awe no awful title to poke fun at ;╭╮;

The fact there are three chapters of this is the joke.

Get rekt son.

So Emily was sleeping over tonight. We did a bunch of things girls do when they sleep over, like paint our nails and talk about boys. Just kidding.

Oh Katherine. You still haven’t grown a sense of humor, I see.

Who needs humor? She assumes everyone likes her jokes.

We didn't talk about boys because then Emily would talk for a whole hour about Angel and I would die of boredom.

Me too, but I’ll still have to suffer through this tedious crap.

ʕ◕ᴥ◕ʔ All shall be fine soon Coffee.

I can imagine my gravestone. 'Katherine Adams You will be missed

You’re missing a “not” in there.

Cause of Death: Emily Evans' Yeah

…I love how you try to make yourself seem like you’re not a snob but you fail miserably.

‘Katherine Adams. Cause of death: Over Inflated ego.”

If it makes you feel any better, I’ve started digging your grave.

So me and Emily were watching Remember Me with Robert Pattison until my mom came. She looked worried. "Get changed girls, we're leaving."

You have quite the balls to start a sentence with “So” like that...

Not even going to attempt to set the scene? Just gonna jump right on in?

Emily and I, dumbass. ʕಠ益ಠʔ

We looked at her strangely and were about to ask her questions when she held up her hand and said, "I'll explain later."

Your attempts at making this urgent and not boring to read are failing.

I’m so enthralled by this plot. I feel as if these chapters get lazier and lazier each time. How many chapters are there?

You know, this wouldn’t be as bad if the writing didn’t suck horribly. You’d be surprised how things like thoughts and showing feelings greatly improve a story.

With that she left us to change. We did as she told us. I put on some jeans and a purple shirt with sequins and purple uggs. Emily wore a white tank top with white jeans and white flats.

We don’t care what they are wearing. We care about the plot, so get on with the plot (or lack thereof).

Tea, I doubt we’ll get any real plot that ISN’T some boring filler.

What do you mean? Of course listing off what these little shits clothed themselves with is crucial to the plot and to the sense of urgency the author is trying to convey!

What is it with her and white? But of course I shouldn't be talking since I'm obsessed with purple.

“Never mind the fact my mother is worried sick about something! I must take the time to question and internally berate my friend’s style choices!”

This is slow and boring to read. Why the hell should we care that the Sue is obsessed with purple? We’re not seeing the obsession, we are sitting here listening to her tell us that she is. It’s boring and lazy writing.

Why should we care about the Sue? She has no lovable qualities.

After we were dressed we went out of my room to see my mom and Angel waiting for us. "We need to leave. Now."

For being in a hurry you sure are slow.

About as slow as the Author is mentally.

“I’m going to stand here telling you we need to leave immediately, but first who’s up for watching this paint dry!”

After my mom says that we hear a screech. All the color drained from her face.

Chooooooooooppy. Seriously, a second grader can make more complex sentences.

Don’t insult the Second graders, Tea, least they work hard.

I, on the other hand, am totally down for whatever was coming to eat them. It just needs to HURRY THE HELL UP.

"Impossible. They couldn't have gotten it that quick." She looks scared. My mom's the bravest person I know and she doesn't get scared easily. Whatever is scaring her must be creepy.

...IT’S A FUCKING MONSTER! It should be terrifying not “creepy”. Especially if you heard it screech. Be realistic.

Bill Cosby’s a human and he’s more creepy ʕಠᴥಠʔ

Guys, you are overestimating Katherine’s ability to emote. She’s too dumb to live.

" , what's going on and what was that?" Emily looks freaked out. I am too.

Coming from the twat who described a screech that shook up your mother creepy.

I'm pretty sure Angel is too, but he's doing a good job at hiding it. My mom ignored the question.

Who the hell starts a sentence that way?

She does. She also likes repeating parts of her sentences.

Holy shit, you thought about Angel? Is that emotion I sense? ʕ◕0◕ʔ

No, you’re just imagining things.

"We have to get out before they find us. Hurry up and follow me."

My mom led us to the closet in her room and she opened it. Inside it was empty. She traced her fingers along the wall and took off a piece. The piece covered a screen. My mom pressed her thumb to the screen and I heard a click.

Is this Percy Jackson or 007? I forgot.

It was a thumb scan.

I still don’t see how THIS is being in any kind of hurry. The monster could have killed you about ten times by now. Now that would be interesting.

I agree. But, I find it funny how she reacts to the thumb scan. “It was a thumb scan” No shit!  ʕ◕ᴥ◕ʔ

Thanks Captain Obvious!

My mom got out of the closet and headed to her bed. She stopped before she could reach it and lifted the mat in front of the bed. It covered a trapdoor. My mom opened them and it revealed stairs.

The secret escape is opened from the closet but is by the bed? That sounds like a B-horror movie nightmare.

There is such a thing as adding too many step-by-step sequences ya know.

This is the most boring way to describe secret doors. Ever.

"Come on, we don't have much time before they start searching this floor."

So you keep saying, but have made little effort to exit in an expeditious manner.

Yet you took all that time to open a trapdoor? If you were in a hurry you wouldn’t be moving at the pace of a burdened snail in August.

Nah, the snails would still be moving faster.

We quickly ran down the stairs until we came to a door.

Oh, so now you’re gonna hurry.

Because now we have plot… Right?

Hurry, my ass.

My mom opened it cautiously and we found ourselves in the library. Behind a bookshelf. I would recognize the cherry colored wood anywhere.

I like how she takes the time to mention the wood, but literally nothing else. No thoughts or feelings. Just “Oh, yeah. ‘Wood’ you look at that!”

We don’t care what the bookshelf looks like. Describe it earlier if you really feel like we ABSOLUTELY need to know.

All Knowing Sue, how I hate you so.

My mom pushed it and it moved forward.

Noooooo. It’s gonna swing backward.

And crush them all between the shelf and wall. THE END.

Yay mom for pushing things!

We all scampered out of the cramped space we were in and my mom didn't even let us take a break from all the running.

Good job team! Nice job doing nothing as usual!

You were standing around for like five minutes while she opened the door, you’re not that winded.

They were standing? I thought they were floating heads.

She ran out of the library and we followed her since she was the only one who knew what was going on.

“Hold on, dawgs. Gotta go to the kitchen to grab some snacks.”

We made it to the front door and she rushed out. She pulled out the garage controller from the pocket of her coat and pressed the button.

I thought the point was to not be detected? The garage door makes a lot of noise. Talk about inconsistency.

Can’t garages be accessed from in the house though? And even if the garage wasn’t attached, there still should have been a door, right?

-Loud, obnoxious, opening sounds- NOTICE US MONSTER-SENPAI!

WHAT WAS THAT? COULD YOU BE A LITTLE LOUDER?

The garage door lifted and my mom ran to the closest car in the garage, which happened to be her black hybrid.

Just say “which happened to be her car.”, We don’t need a vague description of what she drives.

Black hybrid could mean a number of cars…. Or maybe it’s some mythical creature cos its a Percy Jackson story.

Shouldn’t you be more worried about the monster?

"Shotgun." Angel yelled and opened the door.

Angel clearly has his priorities straightened out.

My mom glared at him and held a finger to her mouth.

There’s no point in being quiet now, you’ve already given yourselves away by opening the garage.

You’re expecting the ‘Satan Spawn’ to be quiet?

The monster comes barreling in and rips them apart. It tosses their entrails like confetti.

Have fun dying! Oh who am I kidding? We aren’t gonna get that lucky.

I’ve told Coffee this, we will never be saved.

I REFUSE TO GIVE UP.

Wow, my mom never glares at people.

Well, she has now.

So you’re mom has NEVER glared at you or Angel for doing something bad? Like using knives on your brother or fighting kids at school?

Turns out looks really do kill and Angel’s body is dumped on the side of the road. No one cares.

We all got in the car and my mom drove.

No shit, she’s the only one with a license.

Unless All Knowing Sue somehow knows how to drive too.

Guys, guys, guys. It was either her or Poseidomort.

She kept on driving until she was running out of gas-

This car must get some shit gas mileage.

They went a total of ONE mile.

No one ever heard from them again.

so she stopped at a gasoline station.

Nooooooo.

Not the Gas station!

Anything but the gas station... *strikes match*

When she got out of the car to fill the tank I noticed my mom pull out her phone and call someone. They talked for like a minute before she hung up.

Hot damn! Sue didn’t know who mother called, that’s a first.

Could it be that she’s no longer all knowing? 0-0

ʕ◕ᴥ◕ʔ That’ll be the day I quit drinking, Tea.

Ever considered AA meetings Jager?

Yes I have actually.

When my mom finished and got behind the wheel again and started driving, Emily broke the silence we maintained for at least 50 minutes.

Dammit, just had that replaced. You’re cleaning that up, Emily.

ʕ-ᴥ-ʔ We don’t care how long they were silent.

"Who were you talking to ?"

“I was calling Bullshit.”

"Your father, Emily.

Would you look at that...

I told him that we were attacked and I had to get you all to safety."

Attacked? When? Bring on the monster already!

Having this in script format is lazy writing.

At least add spacing like-

 -this, dammit all.

"Mom, what exactly was that screech?"

Me screaming at this story.

Horrid screams of agony.

"It was a," my mom lowered her voice as she kept driving, "a fury."

"What's a fury?" Angel asked, speaking for the first time.

"Don't repeat that name. Names shouldn't be said carelessly. They have power."

“Well you just said it and we’re not dead.”

It was said twice in five seconds. That fury’s gonna be furious.

Badum tss!

"You didn't answer my question."

She doesn’t have to. You’re probably not gonna like the answer anyway.

She should. Maybe that would speed the plot up.

"They are also known as kindly ones. And it was a monster from the underworld."

Where most monsters come from.

" , I know this is an inappropriate question but, are you high?" Angel snickered.

Why are you snickering, you ungrateful brat? Would you like your sorry ass left behind? I’d gladly oblige!

"Sadly, no."

I feel you, mom. I wish I was high to so I didn’t have to read this.

"Mom, you know there is no such thing as monsters. It's only exists in stories." I state firmly.

State firmly? I sincerely hope you said this with as much deadpan as the writing.

I like how the Sue is trying to be the reasonable one here, yet she sounds completely detached from reality and all emotion.

“I should know, because I’M the main character!”

My mom sighs tiredly.

Much like I’m going to curbstomp you enthusiastically.

"You'll believe me when you get there."

She’s probably tired of your constant questioning.

Mom is really sighing because she regrets having you.

 I regret ever reading this.

"Get where?"

“The hell out of my life.”

This is sounding suspiciously like how Percy ended up at the camp.

Well she IS his half-sister.

Still no excuse to use his “how I got here” story.

True, Author is just a lazy fucker. And that’s coming from the bear.

I don’t know what I expected.

"A special camp. For people like you. Don't you ever wonder why you all have ADHD and dyslexia?"

Never mind the fact that we haven’t seen anything that is suppose to imply they have either of these traits.

You’re explaining it like they’re going to a special needs camp and not explaining at all how this is safer or why there’s a monster chasing them. A+ parenting.

“MY MAMA SAYS I’M SPECIAL!”

"You mean a camp for people with ADHD and dyslexia? That's stupid."

Like this story.

Author expects us to know who’s talking just by they words they used.

Yep, we’re supposed to have telepathic powers.

"It's not stupid Angel. It's a place you will be able to call home and no monsters can get in. You will be safe there."

Still not explaining shit here momma.

Because who needs exposition!

Who needs that when we can talk about dumb teenage stuff?

" , stop the car." My mom and brother ignored Emily and kept argueing about this camp.

Well the best friend has been invisible thus far, so why would it change now?

Better give her a reason to still be here. She’s Punching Bag #2 remember?

Emily has been demoted from Punching Bag #2 to Who?

" , stop the car!" Then I realized my mom wasn't watching the road,

What were you so enamored with that you noticed next to nothing until your friend-not-friend pointed it out?

she was looking at Angel and in the middle of the road was what looked to be a very buff man.

Arnold? Is that really you? It IS you!

Terminator?

Yesssh.  ʕ◕0◕ʔ

Holy run on sentence, Batman!

When my mom looked at the road she stopped but she still ran over the guy.

How do you stop, but STILL run over someone? Is it raining that badly that you literally slide despite being stopped? Wait, is it even raining?

Evidently the car was going so fast that they couldn’t stop fast enough.

Yay for reckless driving!

But monster? The one whose chasing you? Y’know what? Never mind. Just forget I said anything.

"Holy shit."

No exclamation mark? No description of his reaction? Any KIND of EMOTION there? No? Okay.

I believe this is supposed to be a really lame attempt at conveying shock.

“Oh no, we hit someone... I’m hungry. Who wants burgers?”

"Angel, language."

This is hardly the time to tell your son to watch his cursing.

I thought we were in a hurry away from the monster. Not sitting here and waiting for it to get up.

They keep lollygagging like they weren’t just trying to outrun a monster.

"Oh my god! We just ran over a person!" Me and Emily were freaking out and Angel looked like he was going to through up.

What is this supposed to be? A delayed reaction?

Throw up. Through is what I’m going to do when I put you through the fucking wall!

I’m going to through up because of this writing…

My mom was the only one not worried.

She backed up and ran it over again. And again. And again.

I mean, technically she was the one that ran over the guy since she's driving. How can she not be freaked out?! He might be dead.

If you listened to the lack of words that came out of her mouth earlier. You’re being chased by a monster.

/╲/\╭  ʕಠᴥಠʔ╮/\╱\  Here’s a monster.

“Monster?! There was a monster?!”

And if he's dead we're all going to jail! Crap. I might go to jail.

Glad to see that you’re still looking after your own hide.

No, you’re too young for jail, dumbass, you’d go to juvie.

Do you really think the author cares for the specifics when it come to stuff like law? 

"I'm going to check to see if he's okay." I was about to open the door when it suddenly locked.

Yes, check to see if the OVERSIZED BUFFCAKE is okay.

They’re  just asking to get smashed into a bloody paste. They’re still sitting on top of the monster if you go by how this is written.

Let her go. It’s better that way. Too dumb to live, remember?

She’ll just come back like the cockroach she is.

"You are not going out there. He is fine.

What are you doing?! Throw it in reverse and run it over again!

And even if he did die, all that would be left is ashes." With that my mom started driving again.

Not ashes. It’s gold dust. Did you read the books or see the movies?

Actually the gold dust is just a movie thing. In the books they dissolved into a yellow sulfur dust.

Either way it’s yellow, not ash.

Just gonna pretend that never happened. Never mind if it get’s back up and chases us down.

Because death is what the mother wants right now.

As me and Emily looked out the back window we saw the man get up and turn to us. And then I realized he wasn't human.

You just now realized this?

Because no human can run after they were ran over by a car. And no human had horns and a furry face.

You have night vision now?

20 bucks says it’s the Minotaur.

My, we just love to state the obvious don’t we Katherine?

We love this totally original scene.

It looked like a monster.

No shit, Sherlock.

Naaah, it’s a giant bipedal buffcake bull. His name is Tom.

He just wanted a hug. :(

He’s big and scary on the outside, but a precious little cinnabun on the inside! (´;︵;`)

He’s real gentle we promise! He looked so cute at prom in his little tux. ʕಥᴥಥʔ So precious.

A monster that was running after us very fast.

Yes, and I hope it kills you.

Yes my pet, kill them.

FEAST MY PRETTY!

OMNOMNOMNOMNOM!

If this guy is a human, he must have been a test subject.

You acknowledged that it wasn’t human three sentences ago, you dumb broad. 

How would you know the kind of testing that could do that?

Someone has been watching way too much sci fi.

I faced forward, suddenly realizing that what my mom said was true. There are things such as monsters.

You should have realized that about five minutes ago with the fury screaming and the big bull man that you just ran over.

So much for being all knowing, am I right guys?

You have consistently proven your lack of intelligence.

"So where is this camp?"

“IN HELL.”

“Up yer bum you smelly child.”

Oh so now you’re choosing to listen to your mom. *slow claps* Way to go main character.

They’re just going to ignore the monster chasing them down, aye? I’m down with that.

As long as it kills them yeah?

Least she didn’t lose her mom… Yet. I can already tell dear mom’s gonna die sometime soon.

I read ahead, and yes this does in fact happen.

FUCK.

So much for originality.

DEATH TO ORIGINALITY. DEATH TO CANON! BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GODS, SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE!

I AM FEMALE PERCY JACKSON! MY REAL NAME IS PERCIE!

CONCLUSION

I have some complaints. One: This chapter copied near perfectly the way Percy got to camp, +1 for originality pal. Two: Hitting something as big as a Minotaur would not just stop a car, it would completely total that thing. Have you ever seen a DEER get hit by a car? They do a lot of fucking damage to the car, and a deer is waaaaay smaller than a Minotaur. I’m sorry but that Minotaur would’ve grabbed that car and flung it like a twig. Also, the slow pace of this chapter was, as Tea said before, like a burdened snail. The mother is the only character I can sympathize with currently. I cared less for how Katherine tried to be convince everyone monsters don’t exist, yet she had just heard a FUCKIGN FURY screech earlier, and it took RUNNING OVER A FUCKING MINOTAUR to get it through her thick skull. This ‘OC’ is so deep inside herself that she can’t open her eyes until the truth smacks her in the face. Jagerbomb is not please. ʕಠ╭╮ಠʔ. 1/10.

 The main issue I had with this story is that it was extremely contradictory, had little to no emotion when it came to character interactions and was very uninteresting to read. Although the author tried to make it interesting, it failed miserably. I care less for Emily and her friend (Main OC), I can’t empathize with either one. They both are flat and uninteresting and are unconvincing as people. The only ones I can even remotely empathize with is the mom and the brother, but even then they need some work.  

 As the story progresses, I care less and less about the OC and whatever ripoff adventure they embark on. I’ve never rooted for the death of a single character as much before. You can not convince me that these things are actual people with actual thoughts and feelings. Not with that writing anyhow. All I can see is that the author was making her character out to be all important, the reasonable likable hero. She either looks like an ass or an idiot. No in between, no redemption. It  just keeps getting worse. The author apparently thinks that if the characters take a really long time, it would add tension. It looks dumb, sounds dumb, and is unnecessary. These people should have been dead already instead of wasting my goddamn time. 1/10 At least your writing is consistent.

#percy jackson fanfiction #bad fanfiction #fanfiction review #fanfic #obscure review #sporking

[empressledge]

Today I’m going to begin something I’ve thought about doing for a long time but have never really sat down to do.

Buckle the fuck up peeps, today I’m blasting my opinions obnoxiously all over my little corner of the internet.

Today is the first of the days... where I talk about MMOs.

I am not an MMO afficionado. I begrudingly began my MMO career with WoW but found it intimidating - I played a LOT of Flyff back when I had friends, enjoyed but didn’t have a community for EQ2 and made my home in Rift until the parent company turned it into a cesspool of microtransactions and misery.

However, part of my work is user experience - my job is to take the content that my coworkers produce and turn it into something that is consumable and pleasant for other people to use and look at. I am also highly opinionated about what constitutes good and bad user experience design, even though I’m untrained in the field. I know what I like, and I notice what works and what doesn’t work when other people use tools and play games. I form opinions. And now I’m spouting them. Because my latest and greatest love was Rift, that is the MMO I will be referencing most often. Today, I’ll begin by introducing Rift and talking about one of my favourite mishandled features.

For those of you not familiar, Rift is a pretty typical high fantasy MMO that follows many of the conventions of WoW, EQ2 and their kind. Kill monsters, complete quests, level up, with a typical interface and skills on a hotbar. The core mechanics of Rift are nothing special, but a few things set Rift apart - whether this is still true or not I cannot say.

The key difference that Rift brought to the table when I began to play way-back-when was Rifts themselves - tears in the fabric of the world that split open, pouring a whirlpool of elemental outcropping and monsters whose objective was to take over the world.

Tears in the world spontaneously (or deliberately, with the right skill) split into Rifts from one of six planes - Death, Life, Water, Earth, Fire, and Air. These six planes of existence are connected to Telara, the world on which you live and are sworn to protect. Each of the planes covet Telara for lore reasons I cannot recall, so Rifts and their creatures were highly aggressive.

Back in the land of yore, a little low-level character would adventure through the world, following quests and journeying through the zones. You might come across a rift, which you could close yourself or, more likely, with help from someone else. Occasionally, your entire plan would be thrown to the wind due to an invasion - one of the planes would launch an attack on a zone in Telara, opening Rifts across the zone and spewing rampaging enemies continuously, who would set up Footholds in key locations. Large invasions would prevent you from completing quests as smaller quest hubs would be entirely overrun with monsters set on killing you and everything not from their plane. Roads would become battlegrounds between the elemental invaders and the local fauna - both of which wanted to kill you - and of course veering off roads wasn’t much safer, as those were the areas with the densest Telaran monster population. Once an invasion began, everyone in a zone would come together to clear footholds, close the Rifts, defeat the invasion leader, and eventually return Telara to peace once more.

There are a few things about this Rift feature that I think were the most engaging:

Rifts and Invasions were not instanced, but appeared where you were playing

Normal monsters interacted with Invasion monsters, giving them a sense of life and intelligence

Anybody could join anybody else to close rifts and end invasions - there were few ways to drag other players down, and usually any extra bodies in the fight were a positive force

Invasions and Rifts were opportunities to create relationships between other players, but you were not required to already have relationships as you need when taking on things like dungeons and raids

Rifts and Invasions had real consequences and impact - they were temporary, but if you wanted to hand in that quest you needed to clear at least the quest zone. Having consequences made the Rifts seem important, and created a sense of immersion.

Telara had a beautiful world, interesting characters, interesting quests and fun gameplay, but this ability to dip in and out of group content without consequence and without a skill barrier made it a very friendly MMO to play. A changing world - even though the mechanisms behind these changes were quite obvious - helped convince you that this was a real place where your actions mattered, not that you were running around with a toy sword in a city of cardboard buildings.

Now, Rifts and Invasions had their issues too. Players with weaker PCs or slower internet connections had a negatively impact play session when one of these dropped. Players who preferred single player RPG style gameplay, or those who wanted to fast-track to max level, found themselves frustrated at being interrupted. Zones with few players could become unplayable for low-level characters, at least until the timer on the invasion ended, and especially in the earlier days of Rift as there were fewer safeguards against a truly taken over zone - groups of scouts could pile on top of each other on top of footholds, so what initially looked like a group of five monsters suddenly became fifty. These were real issues that impacted players and their enjoyment, and deserved to be addressed!

In response to these issues, Trion - the parent company of Rift - did a number of things:

They scaled down the difficulty of rifts and invasions, making them easier to kill

They changed when invasions appeared - a minimum number of people were required to be in a zone before an invasion could pop, and the more challenging invasions had a higher player requirement

They made invasion footholds and monsters disappear as soon as the invasion timer ended

They beefed up the quest hub guards, making them less likely to be completely annihilated - and if they were, they did not stay that way for long

They added a placeholder mesh for slower computers and connections, meaning that other players and monsters would appear as a single ghostly green cylinder until the computer could catch up with rendering, allowing the player to heal, fight and survive during invasions

Many of these were good changes, but some went too far in the opposite direction. By the time I stopped playing, invasions could and would be ignored - even with a fully populated zone, scouts were easy to bypass, monsters easy to kill, hubs were never taken over or too easily cleared. With no consequences and fewer incentives to participate, players disengaged and the few players who wanted to complete the invasion were unable to close it themselves in time - or, they would struggle to do so with a few dedicated players only to have boss-campers appear only to tag the boss and run away, leaving the people who actually did the work without rewards… which resulted in THOSE players becoming disengaged.

By this time Trion seemed to have placed their focus on Raiders, with encounters and experiences seemingly balanced around them and their feedback. Combined with a race-to-endgame playerbase and server issues, open world content shifted out of focus, and the world lost much of its original allure. When I last played, invasions were an ignored faceroll, only presenting a challenge when they glitched, or when Trion released a new zone and had the invasions tuned towards the too difficult (likely due to balancing around raiders).

Now, many of the changes Trion made for the original issues were positive ones, but there were a lot of other fixes that could have avoided some of these issues and kept the original engagement. Fixes like the green ghost sprites and beefier hub guards were excellent and kept within the realm of possibility for the sprites and lore for the guards.

Invasion strength could have stood some tweaking, but the key issues were:

Invasions stacked on footholds and hubs, resulting in a zerg kill of unsuspecting players

Mobs never disappeared, requiring clearing by SOMEONE - which could be an eight or twelve hour wait on less populated servers

Weaker players, such as the very casual or inexperienced, felt disempowered

Some might argue that slowing down levelling, questing and the rush to endgame were also problems, but I personally disagree with encouraging that particular playstyle and that is a rant for another day.

These issues could have been solved without the mad swing towards easy mode. A few fixes could have changed the game for the better:

Implementing a limit for the number of invasions at a single location, as well as expanding the size of footholds. Rather than a stack of 50 mobs in a 50px area, capping a foothold at say 15 mobs drastically increases the danger and longevity of a foothold while still giving a player a chance at dragging mobs off and killing them one by one. If another group of mobs roll by, they could linger for a minute before rotating onto the next foothold area. This wouldn’t have been a huge tweak to the AI - these paths between rift spawns and foothold spawns were already in place. If all footholds were full, this could have been both a cap for more spawning, and any untethered mobs could simply patrol the area. This makes perfect sense from a lore perspective - what invading force wouldn’t patrol a secured area? Further, smaller patrol paths around footholds could have been created to add interest and decrease the train of mobs on the main path.

Mobs disappearing at the end of the invasion timer was a fix that could have solved most problems by itself, but additional checks for the progress of invasions could have decreased the difficulty if one lone player was struggling against an army. Additional fixes come in my next point, which is...

Rather than nerfing the opponent, empower the player. Temporary buffs already existed within the game and within the lore. An ‘underdog’s advantage’ buff could boost the power of a player who has experienced a set number of deaths within a period of time, or according to other carefully considered metrics that the developers could look at. There already existed a power to summon allies to help you, and this also could have been an alternative to basic nerfs. Calling in reinforcements of NPCs to help you be a hero is much more interesting than cutting through mobs when you’ve done nothing to earn that power.

While these fixes are of course not as easy as the ones implemented, I believe they’re better user design - they engage the player, they keep the lore and consequences intact and improve them in some areas. Players need rewards in order to participate in content, but I also believe they need consequences - otherwise, you have a playerbase that rushes to endgame, forces nerfs into top-tier raids and then complains about being bored… which is one of the reasons I left Rift behind.

#mulling over mmos #shouting from my soapbox #Rift #mmorpgs #super long post #ramblings

[rqwoodward]

Awards are always fun, especially when you win them TWICE. I’m not exactly sure where the Sunshine Blogger Award came from or what it means, but it seems like an exceptionally nice award to have with its sunny graphic and cheerful vibes.

The humorous, entertaining, and thought-provoking A.S. Akkalon first nominated me for the award. If you’ve ever wondered which dinosaurs are the best to date, she can help. If you get stuck while writing a fantasy novel, she can help there too, see: The Solution to Fantasy Writer’s Block. Be sure to check out her amazing answers to the questions posed to her as a recipient of the Sunshine Blogger Award too.

Since I’m lazy and like to post once a week (but already had last week), I decided to save my publication of this post until today, the start of a new week. As I was reading through posts  I’ve missed over the last week from people I follow, I saw that the lovely K.A. Botello was also a recent recipient of the Sunshine Blogger Award, and that she nominated ME for it too!

Wow! Double win! You guys are the greatest! I’d nominate you back, so you can know the feeling, but that seems like a cheap trick. So for now I’ll blush and smile, and direct everyone to K.A. Botello and A.S. Akkalon’s Twitter feeds so you can follow them, in all their awesomeness, there.

K.A. Botello is a great person to follow on WordPress too if you want to get great updates on her current progress with editing her manuscript, find gems of writing and editing advice, or better get to know her.

The rules for the Sunshine Blogger Award are as follows:

Post the award on your blog.

Thank the person who nominated you. (Thanks again guys!)

Answer the 11 questions they set you.

Pick another 11 bloggers.

Give them 11 questions.

Since I was nominated TWICE, you’re in for a real treat. I’m about to answer TWENTY-TWO questions. Here goes!

Questions from A.S. Akkalon:

1. What do you most wish people thought about you?

That I’m nice is a good generic answer. I’d love for people to think I’m a good writer, excellent baketress (yes, I made that word up), and have cool hair. But seeing as how I’ve only shared my stories with a few people, don’t like to share cupcakes, and hibernate during the winter, thus not seeing many people, I can’t really expect those things. Maybe I should wish that people don’t think I’m stingy (Because apparently, I am. WITH CUPCAKES).

2. What’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever done?

I tried to think of something hilarious and outlandish all week, but the only thing I could come up with was rinsing my hands with lemonade from a giant Igloo cooler as a summer camp counselor one time. I went back like three times, thinking I was using the water cooler and wondering why my hands kept being sticky.

3. If you were a game show host, what kind of game would it be?

Something nerdy and comedically obnoxious without actually being obnoxious. Trivia and word puzzles are too simple. But throw in some physical challenges (again, nothing obnoxious), and we might have struck gold.

4. Are you more scared of krakens or black death?

Black death. Krakens only kill unnamed minions or maybe the side kick you’ve grown to love. Black death can and WILL, KILL EVERYONE.

5. What do you wish there was more of in books?

Quirkiness. Not in characters, (there are way too many forced ‘quirky’ characters out there). I mean quirkiness in descriptions and content. I always wonder why epic fantasy novels never talk about their adventurers having to pee. Then I wrote such a story, and I understood. But I still enjoy unique tidbits like that where the author thought to put something unusual into their novel. Two examples off the top of my head are Followed by Frost by Charlie N. Holmberg, where pee actually is mentioned (because I brought it up and now am thinking about urine). The main character is literally ‘followed by frost,’ causing snow storms and freezing everything she touches. The book mentions her having to pee in quick bursts otherwise the urine freezes. Another example, but a much lamer one, is a book I read recently describing something as having the consistency of pudding. For some reason, that stuck with me even though I don’t remember what the object being described was (it wasn’t food). I guess I don’t see a lot of pudding comparisons in books, because I found it really  unique.

6. Where is your favourite place to read a book?

Outside in the sun on a nice day. Curled up on my couch is a great second option and where I actually do most of my reading. Also, anywhere (sitting, standing, comfortable or not) so long as I’m also eating. Yay, food.

7. What is the most “you” thing ever?

*Sigh,* Robin’s egg blue and the song Rockin’ Robin. As much as I’ve tried to run away from these two things throughout my life, they actually have ended up describing me/things I really like incredibly well. P.S. the R in R.Q. Woodward stands for Robin.

8. Cats eating birds: more proud of the cat or sorry for the bird?

Sorry for the bird. I’ve never actually seen a cat eating a bird, but if it’s anything like my dog chasing and killing screaming bunnies, I want no part of it. Poor bunnies. Stupid dog too, she’s always sick afterward.

9. What did high school English do for your love of writing?

Ha! Nothing. Back then I was more interested in the standard art forms of painting, drawing, and 3D design.

10. If you could have a mythical creature as a pet, what would it be, and what trick would you teach it?

Pegasus. Sure, everyone wants a sparkly unicorn, but think about it, wouldn’t you rather FLY? I’d teach it always catch me if ever I fell.

11. If you could have a superpower, what power would you choose?

One of the best questions ever. Since flying is covered, I’ll go with telekinesis. I’m also cheating a little bit by choosing it because my current work-in-progress includes telekinetic mages as the most powerful kind of mage: they can control the weather, heal people, physically control/manipulate other people’s bodies, and of course, do the hum-drum moving of objects with their minds. THAT is the kind of power I’d have :D

Questions from K.A. Botello:

1. What is one of the books you are currently reading?

Dang it! I’ve been on a writing binge and purposefully haven’t started my next book yet. I love that the question says “one of” too :D

I plan to re-read The Last Girl by Joe Hart next in preparation for the March 28th release of The First City by him. I reviewed the The Last Girl the first time I read it, if you want to check that out, and talked more about Hart’s skillful writing in this post.

2. If you could enter into the world of any fictional book which world would you choose?

I’m going to go with the world of The Paper Magician by Charlie N. Holmberg. Don’t mean to be mentioning her twice in this Q&A series, but I think part of the problem with most fantasy novels is that the magic system is exclusive. You have to get invited to Hogwarts. You have to have the have shifter/wizard/witch/mage DNA to even know about magical communities in most fantasy books. Most other books that take place in lands where magic/dragons/all things fantastical and awesome exist, don’t go into great detail with world building. It’s basically earth back in Robin Hood’s Sherwood Forest or something. Clearly, I’m generalizing. The point is, Holmberg’s world in the Paper Magician series is amazing because learning magic is like going to trade school. As far as I can tell, anyone can do it, and it’s just another profession. AMAZING. I want to live there in modern times (because the books take place around 1910 I think…in another reality where magic is normal. It takes place in London, but I don’t think her world is supposed mirror Earth’s history per se).

3. What is one of your favorite quotes?

:( I’m not big on famous quotes. I love highlighting brilliant or hilarious lines in books I read though. One that makes me smile every time I read it is, “He had spent a lot of time thinking about himself, and had come to the conclusion that he was definitely not self-absorbed.” From Scott Meyer’s Off to Be the Wizard. That and dozens of other quotes from books I’ve read are posted on Goodreads.

4. What weather would you consider ideal?

Sunny with a breeze and NOT humid. 25-115 degrees Fahrenheit is fine, snow on the ground or hot asphalt. Just so long as I can breathe easily without inhaling gnats or mosquitos!

5. What is your favorite fairy tale or classic myth?

Ooo! Tough one! I’m going to have to give a few because I think the source matters (she says to herself, knowing full well she’s cheating). When it comes to Disney renditions, I would have to save Beauty and the Beast and Sleeping Beauty. When it comes to original fairy tales, actually the answer is super easy. 100% Hans Christian Andersen’s The Wild Swans. You can, and should, read it for free��here. Seriously, it’s the best fairy tale ever. You should read it. Right now.

6. If you could have any kind of animal real, or imaginary for a pet what would you choose?

A raccoon! I’ve always, always wanted one.

7. What is your favorite time of day?

Generally, meal times because I can eat. Otherwise it depends on if I’m inside or outside, what I’m doing, and what the weather’s like. While this sounds like I’m being picky, what I actually mean to say is that I like ALL of the daytime hours and find it hard to choose.

8. If you could change your natural hair color permanently, what color would you pick?

Hmm, well seeing as how my hair is currently blue, purple, and sea foam green, and has been hot pink, blue, and purple frequently throughout my life, I’d say just brown is fine. I look funny blonde. But burgundy is nice too.

9. What is your least favorite food?

Meat. Sorry carnivores. I’m a brussels spouts, broccoli, kale, and asparagus loving vegan who makes a sad face or scrunches her nose at all things meat.

10. Where would you rather vacation: the desert, the mountains, the forest, or by the sea?

All of the above, please! The year isn’t complete unless I’ve seen a bit of each!

11. What is your favorite animated movie?

Again, I have to cheat and still give too many answers. Computer animation: The Lego Movie and Frozen. Stop-motion animation: The Boxtrolls and Kubo and the Two Strings. Older animation: The Lion King and Beauty and the Beast ❤️

Nominees and Questions for them:

I’m nominating:

If Mermaids Wore Suspenders because Aubrey’s amazing and always adds a sprinkle of sunshine to her posts.

S.E. Drummond because she’s my writing buddy and duh.

Green Life Blue Water because P.J. Lazos keeps it real and provides a broad range of posts from eco information to book reviews.

Don Lorah because he boldly posts tons of wonderful stories, and I want to see if he’ll actually answer my questions in a ‘get to know me’ style blog post.

and finally Niels Saunders because I know he still exists despite his recent respite from sharing his authorly awesomeness with the world.

My eleven questions for you guys are as follows:

  What’s one of the wackiest dreams you’ve ever had?

Name your favorite book, movie, and tv show, and then tell me which of THOSE is your absolute favorite.

What is the first favorite color you ever remember having and what is your fav color now?

Who is your favorite person in the world?

What’s your favorite smell?

If you had to choose between living as an insect in the Amazon or as a fish in the ocean for the rest of your life, which would you choose?

Coffee,  tea, beer, or wine? (multiple choices are acceptable)

How do you like to spend your leisure time?

Do you like to hike, bike, or do other types of outdoor recreational activities? (if this answer is a “duh” type of response because of #8, do not pass go, go directly to jail. Also, tell me anything)

What is one (or maybe two) question(s) you wish I’d asked?

What is the answer to the question you just asked yourself?

Happy answering and sunshine spreading!

To learn more about moi, check out a similar Q&A post I made earlier this year.

Sunshine Blogger Award Awards are always fun, especially when you win them TWICE. I'm not exactly sure where the Sunshine Blogger Award came from or what it means, but it seems like an exceptionally nice award to have with its sunny graphic and cheerful vibes.