#FORCE THEM TO BRING THE OGS BACK

[hoshigray]

This is my first time requesting something but HEAR ME OUT, "Slow Cuddle-fucking with og Sukuna while he is holding (and caressing) Reader (His wife) tightly and praising her (with him having size(difference) and breeding kink) oneshot please please please PLEASESSS😭

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: NAH CUZ I SEE THE VISION, HOLD ON–

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: true form! Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - size difference - monster-fucking (he got 2 dicks, y'all) - double penetration; anal and vaginal - spooning dp position - breast fondling + nipple play - breeding kink - clitoral play (pinching and swiping) - dacryphilia - pet names ([little]dove, good girl, my wife, woman) - soft! kuna, but not too OOC - mention of drool/spit and tears.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.5k

“Stay still, woman…Mmnnn, good girl, nice and easy…”

It’s not a rarity for Sukuna to have his hands on you as you two slept through the night. After all, he is the King of Curses; asking permission to touch his is beneath him. You were made for him to hold – sculpted for his cursed hands to touch – everyone else was far behind or had no standing compared to your demonic husband. And with you both sharing a futon every night, who’s supposed to tell him to keep his hands to himself?

You, his little spouse, knew of this. Marrying the King of Curses was something you never imagined would happen — let alone falling in love with the giant man! You’ve always had dreams of becoming a sweet little partner to someone; for that to be fulfilled by the cursed man who could kill thousands in the blink of an eye is astounding. 

And, of course, being a wife entails all the duties accompanying the package. Especially now, as you two lie together on the floor, nude bodies nestled close on the futon above the tatami floor, and your naked figure trembling from the insertion of one of Sukuna’s paired cock. And your heart drops at the second one brushing up against the crevice of your ass when he pushes the one inside your throbbing, velvety channel. 

“Mmmph…! Sukuna, no,” you whined, your butt inching away from the second member. “I can’t handle both—“

“Don’t lie; you’ve done it before and did it well,” a hand brings your waist to him. “Or maybe I should just have one of the concubines take care of me, seeing as though my own wife is neglecting their duties.” 

He wouldn’t do that; Sukuna’s interest in his insignificant mistresses had long been diminished once he took you up as his bride, practically collecting dust as he hadn’t visited them since you shared a bed with him. Now, he uses them as tools to probe you. And he has to hold back the mischievous snicker when your eyes widen with anxiousness, wrapping your arms around his neck in desperation.

“N–No, please!” You pleaded; it was the only sufficient approach. “I’ll be good to you, I promise!”

The four-eyed curse scoffs. “Then do what you’re supposed to,” Each crimson orb takes in information about your bashful expression, “And attend to your husband like a wife should.”

Further complaints cease at his command, so you quiet down and arch your behind to him submissively. Sukuna takes your initiation with his hungry bottom hand on your ass, squeezing the flesh as you guide his other dick to your lubed asshole. With a hum, he pushes himself and forces you to take his cocks with your bottom, needing a few seconds to breathe when your holes reach the base of his members.

“Good girl,” he says to your ear to make you shudder, and he lifts your leg with the hand that finished groping your asscheek. “Obeying me so well like always…”

He begins to move without a signal, slowly pulling himself in and out of your warm wetness that coats his length with your slick. You can’t help but grip the girth limbs that massage your insides, involuntarily throbbing on them with shaky breaths.  

“Mmmaah, ohhhmyG—Mmm!” Speech isn’t easy, even with his upper left hand cupping your cheeks. And your brows furrow as the upper right sneaks to grope a breast. “Faaahh, Suk..una, I’m too full already…”

“Mmm? Is that so?” Sukuna asks with a patronizing tone, licking the helix of your ear to hear you gasp. “But we’ve barely started yet, my wife. Don’t bore me before I can enjoy you yet.” 

His hips go at a gradual cadence that has you keening a mess, the sensation of the veins of his cocks felt by the walls of your holes. You howl silently, not wanting to make too much noise.

But that doesn’t fly with your husband, speaking to your ear with that hoarse voice. Almost has you melting as he squishes with your cheeks, “Let it out, princess,” he commands. “I want to hear that voice; don’t you dare hide that from me.”

Fuck, the way you felt on his dicks was so fucking good, having the cursed behemoth burrow his face into the cubby of your neck. Slow kisses on your skin segway to sucks that should mark for later. He could never get enough of how small you were up against him. His giant palm swallowed your tit, your ass bouncing with every thrust, and how damn tight you were as you accommodated the two members making your entrances busy. 

Goddamn it, he bites his lip, dialing up the speed of his ruts a bit. Scratching your inner walls has you squeaking louder, unable to stop yourself when he grinds his hips after a sudden grim pound. So warm and snug for him as if you were meant for him. He knew you were meant for him — taking his huge, fat shafts with no objections, just arching your back further so the sensation could be more pleasurable like the loyal, little pet you are. “Hmngh…! Yeah, just like that, little dove; keep clenching around me like that…”

Restraint was gone long ago, letting your voice and shrieks fly out and fill the quiet bedroom. The sound of his skin shaking against your ass, the heat of your cheeks making it hard to think, and the shivers crawling your spine with every graze to your sweet spots. Everything feels like a haze, your brain too clouded to think outside this moment. 

And then you sense the hand on your breast let go, slithering down to your unattended clitoris, which has your eyes shoot wide as your demon husband presses down. “—Khhff! Nooo, ‘Kunaa, you mustn’t…!”  

He lifts a brow with a grin; you dare question him? “And why shouldn’t I?” He pinches the delicate bud, resulting in a scream sneaking past your lips. “Hmm? Plead for yourself.”

“Becau—Ahhh! Mmmm, I’ll cum. I’m gonna cumm…”

“Then don’t,” Sukuna doesn’t remove his digits playing with your clit, and the hand on your chin pulls your face to look at him. “Cum without my permission, and I’ll make sure to not be so kind next time...” His words carry a warning filling your bones with apprehension, yet his soft lips greet yours and he hums into your mouth. The kiss serves as a distraction from his thick digits gently swiping on the pearl.

The rhythm of his hips, however, increases in speed and prompts more moans to be taken by Sukuna. Drool trickles down your lips, same with tears that welled up earlier from the insertion of his girth inside your ass. Your eyes roll at the jab to your silky walls, breaking the sweet yet passionate kiss to cry out as your husband’s fat balls smack your ass. 

“—Ooooo, fuuuck, I can’t,” your eyelids shield your vision, using the rest of your senses to indulge in this euphoric pleasure. “‘Kuna, I’m so close, so—Ooohh!”

“Me too…Ghhh! Shit, me too…” Sukuna presses his hot face to yours when you throw it back, licking the tears off your sweaty skin. You looked so stunning like this, all disheveled and immodest because of him. “Gonna take my load, huh?” He licks the sweat off your shoulder and bites when you don’t respond. “Answer me, Y/n.”

“—Ahhh, yes!”

That’s not enough. “I said,” he pinches your clit again as he gives slow yet rough ruts to your holes. And he can tell by your twitching that you’re doing everything in our power not to come. “Answer me.”

Holy shit, this was borderline torture. “Mmmph! OhhhLord, ‘Kunaaa, I want you to fill me up. Pleasee, pleasepleaseee, I wanna be full; wanna be all ‘round and fat with your child…!”

“Keh, dumb pet; who said I wanted a brat, huh?” He scoffs, yet you can hear the groan as he licks and sucks on your neck while squishing your hot, tear-stricken cheeks. “Fine then; go on and cum with me. So damn needy for my seed…”

Sukuna brings your chin for another steamy kiss, his lower left hand holding yours as his pelvis goes at an irregular pace. Your muffled shrills are taken by feisty lips, teeth clashing with his fangs before sucking on his tongue, and the upper left hand releases your chin to caress your chest once more, tweezing the nipple along with swipes to your clit.

Release gradually creeps up your shaky frame, crying to his mouth when your chasm and anus pucker around the lengths that graze your walls with the tips. Sukuna is not too far behind you, pumping his load into you with a few harsh plunges, making your contracting cunt and rear full of his hot and thick semen. The lower right hand propping your leg up leaves soft kneads on your inner thigh, hoisting it up further so his shafts are deep enough until his pulsing balls meet your ass.

You withdrew from his lips to breathe, your figure quivering through the aftershocks, and your slit and asshole still flutter around his girths. And you mewl when he kisses your cheek and temple.

“Mmm, that’s my princess,” he purrs while placing your leg down to massage your waist. “Such a good dove…”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ✩ dividers by @/benkeibear.

[mirensiart]

you’ve heard about linksmeet aus before, but today I bring you a LINKLES MEET AU

✨WELCOME TO THE LINKLE-VERSE✨

basically, an au that asks the question of: what if each Link had a Linkle counterpart? The Linkles don’t necessarily share a spirit, but they do share one thing, aka GETTING LOST! So lost in fact they end up in different eras lmao what’s better than this, just gals being pals trying to find their way back home amiright lmao

it all starts with Fauna (botw/totk!Linkle) following a story about Zelda’s whereabouts for the Lucky Clover Gazette and falling down a suspicious portal accidentally. She ends up in another era and another time, and pairs up with the local Linkle to find a way back home (though jumping through time will absolutely make a great story for the Lucky Clover!) what happens next will (not) surprise you (they get lost again and find themselves in another era, find the local Linkle and…rinse and repeat lmao)

👇 small notes and translation of their names down below 👇

they’re all sapphics cause like, I’m sapphic and I say so lol

the OG Linkle aka the one from hyrule warriors, is nicknamed atenea

fauna has no idea her coworker (botw/totk!link) is THE link everyone is looking for, cause I think it’s funny that he has the Tony Hawk syndrome lmao

hada dies to ganondorf’s forces while protecting oot!zelda in all timelines except the child timeline

brisa hates ww!link’s guts and refers to him as her sworn arch nemesis but it’s all one sided cause ww!link couldn’t care less about her lmao he keeps finding rare treasure and getting his hands on treasure maps, ITS NOT FAIR !

rosa is like brock from pokemon aka her eyes are always closed lmao

ocaso has a bitch resting face but is actually a sweetheart, she feeds the cats in castle town every day

linka is a traveling merchant in hyrule, while rava travels lorule. they both have had encounters with ravio in lorule/hyrule and hate him, they’re competitors lol the hatred is mutual though ravio hates them too since they keep stealing Mr Hero’s patronage from him lol

I like to imagine peregrina has stumbled upon loz/al!link a couple of times but has no idea who he is, like just a weird traveling kid lmao

alma likes trains and aspires to be a royal engineer like st!link but she also dreams of eventually being the captain of a steamboat lol

ever since she split, colores talks in plural sometimes

capa is mc!link’s cousin aka they both have the same grandpa :)

the translations of their names are:

Cielo = sky

Capa = cape

Hada = fairy

Rosa = rose or pink

Brisa = breeze

Ocaso = twilight

Linka is just Linka lol same with Rava

Colores = colors

Alma = spirit or soul

Fauna = same in English

Peregrina = pilgrim

[i-cant-sing]

Okay but I need yall to help me figure out the character(s) for the following scenario:

Imagine a romantic yandere falling for reader, and ofc reader isn't in love with yandere for obvious reasons like red flags. Maybe they did try dating, Yandere is a charmer, comes from a rich family, he's smart and hardworking and oh so head over heels in love with you. He's always taking you out on best dates, HAS to get you the largest fucking bouquets (excellent taste in flowers) and buys you expensive but well thought out gifts.

But for whatever reason, things dont work out and you break things off hastily and most likely over the phone before leaving the country. And yandere just- breaksdown. I mean my man does not have a good mental health as is, but you leaving, actually leaving him just breaks him down and he has a full blown panic attack.

I'm talking about yandere falling to his knees, clutching his chest and gasping for air, tears streaming down his face as he screams your name like a mad man. His family, they love him, they adore their son/brother/grandchild sm, it pains them to see him in such a miserable state. Yandere man is so delirious that he has to be sedated, tranquillised by medical professionals because he's just losing his fucking mind, babbling your name over and over again like a mad man. His condition only worsens as time passes, and so his family decides to take drastic measures because they can't see their beloved son/brother/grandkid so fucking dead and depressed and a shell of a once bright man. They love him so much, they only want ti see him happy, so they use their money and influence to track you down and try to convince you to return and take yandere back. When you refuse, they take the high way and force you to come with them, dragging you kicking and screaming to their private jet and fly all the way home, where yandere is.

You're in a dishevelled state, tears running down your cheeks as you struggle to free yourself from their grasps as they take you to yandere. And when yandere sees you... for the first time in months, his family sees the light return in his eyes as the yandere reaches out for you, scared that you're just his mind playing tricks. When he finally touches you, he is immeadiately pulling you into a hug, arms tightening around your body like a gilded cage as he cries into your shoulder and thanks his family for bringing you back. His family only smiles with tears in their eyes as they lock the door behind them when they leave, so that you don't go running away. Meanwhile, yandere has pulled you into his lap and he's looking at you with such sad eyes, staring at each feature of yours over and over again as if to memorise it all again. He can't help the tears that continue to slip out of his eyes, maybe he's crying that you're finally here, or maybe he's crying for all the time that's been lost when you weren't here. You fall asleep soon due to exhaustion, but yandere doesn't sleep a wink that night because he continues to stare at you and play with your hair very gently, finally closing his eyes when morning comes and he wraps his arms around you and traps your legs with his.

By now, you guys realise that the yandere's family is not only yandere for their son/brother/grandson but also for you. They are yandede for you too, but they're not allowing you to leave them or their son or even make him unhappy ever again. Some members are willing to let all you "tantrums" slide, while others are not so kind. BUT one thing is for sure, you're ALWAYS safe with yandere s/o, no matter what.

Now, for the characters I've had in kind for this scenario are:

Halim Mehmet Shah and the Shah Family (my ocs)

Dabi/Shotou and Todoroki clan (I am the OG creator of Yandere Todoroki Clan)

I wanna say Naoya or Toji but the Zenin clan hates them both....

Dick Grayson/Jason Todd and Batfam

What do you guys think?

Mood board for this scenario^^^(I love Pinterest)

[maroonpascal]

It was enchanting to meet you

Pairing: Harry Castillo x reader

Summary: you’ve never imagined that meeting Harry Castillo could change your life forever

Word count: 773

Notes: this is literally just for the vibes and nothing else, wrote it on my way back home from uni just for fun. Based on the moodboard I posted yesterday (og post)

Date nights with him were always a dream and always more than you could ever expect; you were used to easy nights, nothing too special but with him everything was different. You didn’t even imagine how life would have changed when that night he sat next you at that event, offering you a drink, his charm immediately captivating you, an aura that it is hard to find. His brown eyes were the thing that made you forget everything else in an instant, and then the way he talked and his voice, words falling from his lips softly, like the most expensive velvet. And how could you ever say no to all of that, to a man that was taking all your breath away, your heart beating so fast at the way he was looking at you.

That night you kept looking at him as you sipped on your drink, and with every second passing you would notice a new detail, the cute patches in his beard that would resemble to little hearts, his perfume now becoming also yours, given how close you two were, and that green emerald on his right hand; soon you understood that not only he was handsome as hell, but he could also make you laugh and he was smart, having a way of speaking that would make you hang from his lips, and the night took a completely different turn. Would you have ever imagined to end up in his expensive apartment? Surely not, but the universe has its ways, and that is how you ended up there, after a night of talking and smiling with him, hands in your hair as he pushed you against the wall, kissing you like nobody had ever done, a passion igniting you and making you feel more alive than ever. His touch was firm but gentle at the same time, handling you like you were most precious thing in that apartment, more expensive than his own emerald ring.

When you woke up the following morning you had those pristine bedsheets around you, and you turned to him just to see him blissfully sleeping by your side, an arm around your waist, exactly how he had fallen asleep last night. This could be a one nightstand only, you thought, soon I’m gonna leave and everything will go back to normal, I will go back to my normal life and this will remain just a feral dream.

Little did you know.

You had no idea that once you had left that apartment he would have called you, checking on you and simply wanting to hear your voice, and life really wasn’t the same anymore.

What you had thought was one single event, bloomed into something more, as you were attracted by him like a magnet, an invisible force dragging you to him, soon enough having to give a name to whatever was happening between you two.

Soon you also understood that it was a very different relationship from the ones you’ve had in the past, as he would always surprise you in the most incredible ways. Sometimes it would be a huge bouquet of red roses, so many roses that you couldn’t even count them, sometimes he would rent an immense villa only for you two, to spend a little getaway weekend; you could never guess what he had in store for you, because every date could be even wilder than the previous one.

One night he had taken you to the airport, car full of luggage, and only when you arrived there you discovered he was taking you to Paris with his private jet for a romantic week.

So he would surely cover you in gifts, romantic trips, take you to the most expensive restaurants and you were sure you could also ask him to bring you the moon too and he would find a way to do that, but what truly made you fall in love with him wasn’t that. It was the way he would care for you, the way he would hold you at night, and the passion that he had for you, but especially the talking you would do with him at late night, when both of you were tired and you would look at each other with sleepy eyes, stolen soft kisses in the kitchen with dim lights over you, the taste of red wine over your lips and his warm kisses on your neck, hands intertwined. And the truth is, that you could have forgotten all the expensive stuff, scrapped all of that, because what you only needed was him and his infinite love for you.

[lisalamona]

(og) Lay All Your Love On Me

. Pairing: rockstar! Poseidon x gn! Reader . Summary: You're a photographer for the band Natural Disaster. There's been tension between you and Poseidon for months. Zeus thinks you two should just fuck. (I don't have enough brain power to make a proper summary, I'll edit it when I get the cnahce) . Warnings: I would say this oneshot is 16+. It gets kinda spicy towards the end. There's mentions of sex and swear words. . Notes: The voices... They told me to write this I feel like I could've done better with this but, you know what's done it's done, I know that If I don't put it out now I'll never be actually content with it poseidon divider made by @vibeswithrenai and taken from this post

series masterlist rewritten version (coming soon)

Lights pulsed in a chaotic symphony, a swirl of blues, greens, and yellows swallowing the entire arena. The energy in the air was electric, thick with anticipation, the kind that pressed against your skin like an oncoming storm. If the massive speakers weren't rattling your bones, the roar of the crowd more than made up for it—a deafening wall of sound that left no doubt about the spectacle unfolding before them.

People had traveled from all over just for the chance to witness this moment, to see Natural Disaster live in the flesh. Thousands packed together, a sea of bodies moving as one, their cheers blending into the pounding bass that vibrated through the floor, creeping up your legs and settling deep in your chest. Some fans screamed the lyrics at the top of their lungs, others clutched onto each other, overwhelmed by the sheer energy of the night. The whole place felt alive, buzzing with an almost tangible force.

Even after nearly a year of touring with the band, you were still struck by the sheer magnitude of their audience—passionate, relentless, utterly devoted. You almost regretted not knowing about them before; it felt like a missed opportunity. But at the same time, maybe that ignorance had been a blessing in disguise. It had brought you here, given you this chance—an opportunity most fans could only dream of.

As the song swelled toward its chorus, you found yourself mouthing the words, the melodies, the slight inflections of the singer's voice etched into your mind like second nature. It had become instinct, like breathing. More than once, you'd caught yourself humming their songs during your downtime, the tunes slipping from your lips before you even realized it. Who knew how many other times it had happened unnoticed?

Your attention snapped back to reality, and you quickly readjusted the lens of your camera, bringing it to your eye once more. The three figures on stage seemed like they were having the time of their lives—energy radiating from them in waves. Or maybe that was just the way the bright stage lights mixed with the sweat glistening on their skin, making them appear almost otherworldly. The music pulsed through the air, vibrating in your chest, while the crowd around you swayed, screamed, and reached toward the performers as if they were divine beings descending from Olympus itself.

One of the three, the vocalist, turned his head in your direction, and the moment his gaze swept over the crowd, the volume of the screaming behind you somehow surged even higher. You silently thanked your past self for remembering earplugs.

Still, despite the chaos, his eyes found yours—and stayed there.

For a second, the world shrank, the lights dimmed, the crowd melted away. He was stunning, almost ethereal, as if the entire setup of the concert existed solely to highlight him. The glow of the lights framed his features in a halo of brilliance, while the deep, inky black of his hair shimmered faintly with a bluish outline, reflecting the colors behind him. His eyes—what little you could see of them through the moving lights—held something you couldn't quite place, but whatever it was, you knew it was something good. Something electric.

Your lips stopped moving. Lyrics left right on the tip of your tongue unsaid. He had you in a trance.

Then, as if sensing the spell he'd cast, he smirked.

The moment shattered, and your instincts kicked in. Without hesitation, you snapped a photo. Candid shots were always great, but this? A direct look, caught in time—that was something different. That was raw. That was real. It communicated things you couldn't quite explain.

Lowering your camera just slightly, you peeked over it—and there he was, still smirking, still looking directly at you. And worst of all, you knew, without a doubt, that smirk was meant for you.

You rolled your eyes, playful but unimpressed. His smirk widened, eyes glinting with amusement before he finally turned away, shifting his gaze to some unseen point in the middle of the audience, continuing with the performance.

You exhaled, glancing down at the screen to review the shot you had just captured.

Perfect.

The crowd behind you erupted again, their voices blending into one thunderous chant—one name over and over, rising like a prayer to the heavens.

"POSEIDON! POSEIDON! POSEIDON!"

The stage lights flickered in response, casting the entire scene in a fleeting, shimmering blue, like moonlight on crashing waves. And for a brief moment, you wondered if this man was just a performer—or something far more.

──────📸──────

"I think tonight went great."

The four of you made your way out of the arena through a dimly lit back alley, slipping through the heavy metal door that slammed shut behind you with a dull thud. It wasn't the most glamorous exit, but you had to stay humble somehow, right? In all seriousness, it was one of the safest ways to leave venues like this—without the risk of being swallowed by a screaming crowd.

Still, you had a feeling you could have walked right through the front doors if you wanted to. Considering how late it was and how long ago the concert had ended, the majority of fans had already cleared out. It was Zeus' fault, really. If anyone ever arrived late or left late, he was somehow always to blame. In this case, though, you silently thanked him for it.

"Yeah, we got to end it with a bang!"

You had been told you'd need to wait a few hours before getting back on the tour bus—the crew still had things to pack and prep before hitting the road again. You weren't too thrilled about the downtime, but it wasn't like you had a choice.

"What did you think, [Name]?"

Three heads turned toward you in perfect synchronization, their eyes gleaming with anticipation. They always asked, and you always gave the same answer. So this time, you decided to switch it up.

"Eh, it was fine."

You waved a dismissive hand, fighting to keep a straight face as the three of them froze in place.

"...Fine. Fine?"

Zeus, the blonde, looked as if you had just personally insulted his entire bloodline. His mouth hung open slightly, his brows furrowing before he lurched forward and clamped a hand against your forehead.

"Are you okay?" He demanded, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

You laughed, batting his hand away. "Yes."

"You never say it's fine. You're always all like—" Zeus suddenly slung an arm over your shoulders, lifting his hand like a talking puppet, bringing his voice higher in what you assumed was a terrible impression of you. "'Oh, well, I think it was splendid! Absolutely brilliant! Poseidon is divine! A true gift to the stage!'"

You barely heard the last part, too caught up in the sheer audacity of how he made you sound—like a tiny English orphan boy from some old timey novel.

"I don't sound like that!"

You turned to the other two for support, but Hades merely shrugged, and Poseidon... Well, he smirked, looking far too entertained.

Over the past year or so, you'd grown close to them—not just as colleagues, but as friends. Real friends. The kind that could spend hours together on the road without wanting to kill each other (well, most of the time). You had late-night conversations about nothing and everything, inside jokes that made no sense to anyone else, and a ridiculous amount of shared memories in different cities across the country. They had become your people. And, judging by the way they always included you in everything, you knew they felt the same.

Poseidon was the next to step beside you, his presence effortlessly replacing Zeus as he shoved the blonde's arm off your shoulders and draped his own there instead. Zeus scoffed, rolling his eyes as he gestured toward you and Poseidon, looking to Hades for support, but Hades merely shrugged again.

You stiffened slightly at the unexpected touch, but when Poseidon looked at you, the tension faded. His scent—something faintly salty, like the sea after a storm—washed over you, strangely familiar and oddly comforting. It was strange, really. You hadn't ever seen him anywhere near a large body of water, except for the few times the band stopped in coastal cities for a break. And yet, he always smelled like the ocean.

"Well," Poseidon drawled, giving your shoulder a light squeeze. "I think it's a good thing. Helps us improve, doesn't it, angel?"

His gaze lingered just a second too long. Neither of you looked away.

For a fleeting moment, the rest of the world faded.

Then—

"I heard of this one bar from a friend," Hades interrupted, breaking the spell as he glanced up from his phone. "We could go there while we wait. He said it isn't usually busy."

Poseidon turned to him, giving his brother a thumbs up. "Sounds good."

Just as you began heading in the direction of the bar, a small group of lingering fans spotted the band and rushed over. They weren't overwhelming—just a handful of excited people eager for a quick interaction.

"Could we get a picture?" One of them asked breathlessly, eyes darting between them in awe.

Poseidon shifted away, dropping his arm from your shoulders.

You instantly missed the warmth. The weight of it.

Still, you smiled, already holding out your hand for their phones. It wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the last. You didn't mind taking pictures—it was part of the job, unofficially.

But then, one of the girls stepped forward, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she looked at Poseidon with a giddy, almost shy expression.

"Can I get one with just you?"

Poseidon, ever the charmer, gave her an easy, lopsided grin. "Of course."

You raised the phone, framing the shot, but something about it made your stomach twist.

The way her hand lightly grazed his arm. The way he leaned in just a little closer for the picture. The way she bit her lip slightly before giggling.

Nothing inappropriate. Just too familiar.

You quickly snapped the picture and handed the phone back, forcing a neutral expression.

It wasn't a big deal. It shouldn't have been a big deal.

And yet.

Poseidon caught your eye as you handed the last phone back, something flickering in his expression. Maybe amusement. Maybe something else.

You watched as the small group of fans disappeared into the night, their excited chatter fading into the hum of the city. Zeus and Hades, meanwhile, had gone back to squinting at a map on Hades' phone, quietly bickering over which turn to take next, determined not to get lost.

"Jealous?"

Poseidon's voice was sudden, low, and far too close, making your heart jump just slightly. You recovered quickly, schooling your expression into a smirk as you glanced up at him.

"Not at all. Just tired." You stretched your arms lazily before dropping them back to your sides. "How far did you say the bar was?"

"Three blocks over... there!"

Hades finally lifted his gaze from his phone and pointed in the direction of a warmly lit bar sign down the street before taking the lead, Zeus following close behind.

Poseidon, however, didn't budge.

His sea colored eyes stayed fixed on you, expression unconvinced. He saw right through your excuse—probably already had some remark lined up about how your face definitely told a different story.

But before he could get the words out, you moved.

In one quick motion, you grabbed him by a belt loop and gave a firm tug, pulling him closer. The unexpected action made him stumble slightly, his face shifting in surprise—then, just for a moment, his ears burned red, his breath hitched, and his heart skipped a beat.

You didn't give him the chance to recover. With an innocent smile, you simply turned, still holding onto his belt loop, and started pulling him along toward his brothers.

That seemed to shut him up.

For now.

──────📸──────

By the time you finally made it to the bar, the four of you had settled into a secluded booth toward the back. It was a snug fit but comfortable, the kind of space that made it easy to sink into conversation without interruption. The atmosphere was calm—almost homely—an intimate contrast to the chaotic, electric energy of the arena.

The warm glow of dim lights reflected off polished wooden surfaces, casting soft shadows across the walls. A low hum of voices drifted around the room, but no one was loud or disruptive—just small groups of friends talking in hushed tones, likely regulars who had carved out this space as their own. The only other sound was the faint murmur of a football game playing on a small TV mounted in one corner, though judging by the lack of interest from anyone in the bar, it was probably a rerun.

You sat with your arms stretched out toward the center of the table, your camera resting in your hands, its screen illuminating the dim space as you scrolled through the night's captures. The three of them leaned in, watching as you flicked through the images.

Comments were thrown around—some admiring the shots, others laughing at the more unflattering ones. Zeus, of course, was the loudest, making sure to poke fun at Hades' stone faced expressions and his own occasional ridiculous poses. But as the slideshow continued, one comment, in particular, caught you off guard.

"Why are most of these Poseidon?"

Your fingers froze mid scroll.

Zeus had a raised brow and an infuriatingly smug smirk, leaning forward with one arm propped on the table, hand supporting his chin. Before you could even process how to respond, his expression flickered—just for a second—as if he had been struck with sudden pain. Someone had clearly kicked him under the table.

You weren't sure who.

"I just want to know!" Zeus protested, rubbing his leg and throwing an accusing glance around the table.

Your face heated up, your mind scrambling for an excuse.

"He's the main vocalist," You stated matte of factly, shifting in your seat. "If you have a problem, take it up with the people. It's what they want to see."

Zeus' smirk only widened.

"Are you the people?" Before you could formulate a response, another thud sounded beneath the table—this time louder, sharper. Zeus flinched, hissing in pain as he immediately bent down to rub his leg. "Stop that!"

You fought back a grin, quickly glancing at Poseidon, whose face remained neutral—too neutral.

But the glint in his eyes?

Yeah.

You had a pretty good idea who was responsible for the second kick.

Still, you quickly drowned what was left in your glass and stood up. You needed a second to breathe—to shake off the lingering embarrassment sitting heavy in your chest. It wasn't anything serious, nothing you couldn't handle, but still, your skin felt a little too warm, your pulse just a little too quick. A short walk to the bar and back would be enough to compose yourself.

"I'm going to get a refill. Anyone want anything?"

A chorus of no's and I'm fine's met your ears, so you simply nodded and made your way to the counter.

As you waited to be served, another patron leaned against the bar beside you—a guy, about your age, casually dressed, clearly waiting for his drink too. It wasn't long before you exchanged a few words, just friendly conversation, nothing out of the ordinary. But across the room, someone else seemed to think otherwise.

Poseidon sat stiffly in the booth, his drink untouched, his jaw just slightly clenched. His deep blue eyes locked onto the guy at the bar like a predator watching potential prey. It was almost laughable how intense his stare was—if looks could kill, that man would've dropped right then and there.

Zeus noticed. With a slow, knowing smirk, he leaned toward Poseidon, voice dripping with amusement. "You keep glaring like that, and he might actually drop dead."

Poseidon exhaled sharply, tearing his gaze away and taking a slow sip of his drink, trying to appear indifferent. It wasn't working. "I'm not glaring."

"Oh, shut up." Zeus leaned forward, lowering his voice just enough to keep it between them. "You've been pining for months. Months. Even Hades can't take it anymore."

As if on cue, Hades, who had remained mostly quiet, reached across the table and grabbed the camera still sitting open in the center. His sharp eyes flicked to the screen—a clear shot of Poseidon, captured in perfect lighting, an almost ethereal glow around him. He turned the screen toward his younger brother.

"It's a sign." Hades stated simply.

Poseidon frowned. "A sign?"

"They like you too. And if you need more proof, let's talk about the unbearable tension between you two." He sat back, crossing his arms. "Honestly, it's getting exhausting to watch."

"And those stupid braids! You let them braid your hair like some kindergartener every night!" Zeus threw his hands in the air, exasperated.

Poseidon instinctively glanced down at the braids you had done for him earlier that night. They weren't anything elaborate—just a few loose ones scattered through his hair, with two framing his face. You'd woven small trinkets into them, mostly ocean themed charms—tiny seashells, beads shaped like starfish, a silver wave. He had reminded you of his domain, and you had made it very clear in your choices. And he wore them with pride, he wasn't about to let his brother take it away.

He absentmindedly reached up, running his fingers over one of the charms before looking back at his younger brother, expression almost offended. "They're not stupid. I like them."

Zeus snorted. "You look like a hippie."

Poseidon arched a brow. "Did you look at yourself in the mirror before stepping out?"

Before Zeus could fire back, Hades sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Alright, enough." He muttered, effectively cutting through their bickering. His gaze shifted to Poseidon. "They won't be there forever for you to tell them and you know that. It's clear that you want to. Stop being the Poseidon that puts everyone at an arm's length and just do it."

Poseidon rolled his eyes, but the lightest hint of pink dusted his cheeks. He brought his drink back to his lips.

Zeus, of course, had to make it worse.

"Or, in better words—just fuck already."

Poseidon nearly choked on his drink.

"Shut up." His voice came out more flustered than threatening, especially with the way he quickly glanced around to see if you had heard that. His blush deepened when Zeus waggled his brows at him.

"I'm just saying—" Zeus continued, clearly enjoying this way too much. "You need to quit staring like some lovesick fool and do something about it."

Then, suddenly, his focus shifted. A girl had just walked into the bar—a striking one, by the way Zeus' gaze immediately locked onto her.

"For example..." He tapped the table once before standing up. "Watch and learn, brother. You'll get to experience it firsthand."

And just like that, he was gone, striding toward the girl with all the confidence of a man who had never once been rejected, not that it was true.

Poseidon exhaled, running a hand through his hair.

Hades turned the camera toward him again, this time slowly pushing it to him, expression unreadable.

"You know he's right."

Poseidon groaned, rubbing a hand down his face.

"Great. Just what I needed—you agreeing with him."

Poseidon huffed, leaning back against the booth with his arms crossed.

Hades, ever composed, simply shrugged. "I'm not saying you should rush into things and have sex straight away." His tone was dry, amused. "But you do need to tell them. It's going to eat you alive if you don't." He met Poseidon's gaze evenly. "You'll know the right moment. And if you don't take it when it comes, you're going to regret it."

Before Poseidon could argue, Hades' phone buzzed against the wooden table, cutting through the conversation. The screen lit up, and Poseidon caught a glimpse of the contact photo—his sister in law's familiar face.

Persephone.

It was almost a ritual at this point. Every night after a show, without fail, she called to check in. Maybe to ask how things had gone, maybe just to hear Hades' voice. Either way, Poseidon had lost count of how many times this exact moment had played out.

Hades barely glanced at the screen before reaching for the phone, a rare, almost imperceptible softness passing over his usually sharp features.

"It worked for me." He murmured before standing up and making his way toward the exit. The door swung shut behind him, the cold night air swallowing his voice as he answered the call.

Poseidon glanced around the nearly empty table, a quiet exhale slipping past his lips. It was as if the universe was mocking him—one by one, everyone had slipped away, leaving him the last one standing. Hades had stepped outside, deep in conversation with Persephone. Zeus had all but disappeared, wrapped up in a flirtatious exchange with the woman who had just walked in. And then there was you.

His eyes found you at the bar, where you exchanged a friendly wave with the man you'd been talking to as he returned to his table. You didn't seem particularly invested in the conversation—just polite, casual—but it still made something coil uncomfortably in Poseidon's stomach.

Before he could think too much about it, his hand instinctively reached for your camera, making sure no one else would take it in your absence. Then he pushed himself up from the booth and walked straight toward you, not hesitating for a second.

"What are you having?"

His voice was low, close—closer than you expected. Before you could react, one of his arms slipped around your waist, the sudden contact making you jump slightly. His touch was cool, his fingers settling almost too naturally on your hip, as if they had always belonged there.

It wasn't just a fleeting touch, either. His thumb moved in slow, absentminded circles over the fabric of your clothes, sending an unexpected shiver up your spine. Your mind short circuited for a moment.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to focus. "Just some water."

Poseidon raised a brow. "Nothing else?"

"Yeah, not in the mood to let you guys drink me under the table again." You finally turned to meet his gaze, expression playfully accusing. "I've learned my lesson."

"It was one time!"

"It was embarrassing."

"It was adorable."

The bartender slid your glass of water toward you, and you took a sip, letting the cool liquid settle your nerves. Glancing back toward the booth, you realized how empty it looked.

"Where are the rest? Are we leaving?"

Poseidon followed your gaze before checking the clock on the TV screen. "We probably should." He took out his wallet and paid the bartender what was owed.

You downed the rest of your drink, letting him guide you toward the entrance.

As you passed Zeus, still deeply engrossed in conversation with the stunning woman from earlier, Poseidon didn't even slow his pace.

"He's married."

The words were spoken so casually, as if it was just an offhand remark. But they landed like a thunderclap. The woman stiffened, her expression shifting in an instant. Without another word, she stood up and left.

Zeus groaned dramatically. "Oh, come on!"

Poseidon, still not sparing him a glance, only smirked.

──────📸──────

The bus was quiet, save for the soft hum of the engine as it rolled down the darkened highway. Most of the others had already settled in for the night. Hades, ever the responsible one, had turned in first, slipping into his bunk with a final check of his phone before muttering a goodnight. Zeus, on the other hand, had collapsed onto his bed with all the grace of a fallen tree, his snores already filling the small space.

Poseidon, however, was still awake—still thinking.

Zeus and Hades' words from earlier refused to leave his head, circling like vultures. You need to tell them. It's going to eat you from the inside out. He scoffed softly to himself. Like it was that easy.

And now, with the bus lights dimmed and the world outside nothing but a blur of passing headlights, he found himself glancing toward your bunk, where the soft glow of your laptop screen illuminated your face.

You were sitting cross legged, laptop propped on your thighs as you transferred the night's photos from your camera. Your bunk was the top one—you had fought tooth and nail to get it, determined not to settle for anything less. What you didn't know was that Poseidon had let you have it, even if he'd never admit it.

As you carefully checked the last of the transfers, Poseidon walked by, already dressed for bed—pajama pants hanging low on his hips, a tank top clinging to his frame in a way that made it impossible not to look. When his eyes landed on you, there was no surprise. Of course you were still awake.

"You still up?"

You hummed in response, not looking away from the screen, even though you really wanted to. "Making sure I don't lose any pictures."

He lingered for a moment, then, with a casual air masking something deeper, asked, "Can I see them again?"

You turned to him, surprised by his genuine interest. "Of course."

With effortless strength, Poseidon grabbed the edge of your bunk and hoisted himself up, careful not to bump his head in the cramped space. You adjusted your laptop, angling the screen toward him as he settled beside you, shoulders almost touching.

The two of you scrolled through the images, laughter slipping between you as you pointed out ridiculous expressions and perfectly timed shots.

"You actually managed to look right at the lens," You mused, clicking through the images. "Which is wild because with all those lights, I'd imagine it'd be hard to spot it."

Poseidon tilted his head slightly, his gaze flicking from the screen to you. "It's hard not to look at you."

You froze.

He had leaned in to say it—so close, his breath brushed your ear, his voice deep and low. Your entire body tensed at the unexpected sensation. The space between you felt suddenly nonexistent. He was always cool to the touch, like the ocean breeze on a late night, but now—now he was warm. Too warm. His presence was overwhelming in the best way, his body radiating heat like a fire in the dead of winter.

Your hands stilled over the laptop. The moment stretched. You turned your head, searching his eyes, desperate to know if this was just more of the playful flirting he always threw your way, or if—

His gaze flickered downward. To your lips.

The air between you thickened, charged, pulling you forward before you could think better of it. His lips met yours—soft, warm, lingering in a way that felt certain. No hesitation. No teasing. Just him.

You supposed that was your answer.

Poseidon tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss, his hand drifting to the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair as he pulled you closer. You melted into it. He tasted faintly of mint and something sweet, something him. When you finally broke apart, breathless, he hovered just inches away, his thumb tracing absentminded circles against your skin.

Out of nowhere you had the courage to speak. "You put on this rough, brooding persona." You murmured, lips brushing against his. "But I know you."

Poseidon exhaled a soft chuckle, raising a brow. "Really?"

"Really."

A slow smirk pulled at his lips. "What do you know?"

You exhaled, your fingers curling into the fabric of his tank top. "...You want..."

Poseidon's voice dropped an octave. "What do I want?" His nose brushed yours, the tension crackling between you like a brewing storm. "Show me."

The next kiss was different—hungrier. His hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him as his mouth moved over yours, stealing every breath you had to offer. Your laptop was an afterthought as Poseidon reached past you, flipping it shut before taking your camera and carefully lowering it to his bunk below.

Or at least, that was the plan.

Thud.

He hit his head on the low ceiling ledge, where the curtain rails ran.

You broke into laughter. "Oh, you're laughing?" He muttered, rubbing the sore spot, his expression both irritated and amused.

"A little bit." You teased.

Poseidon narrowed his eyes, tilting his head. "Oh, I'll shut you up."

With that, he lowered you back onto the mattress, one hand gripping your thigh, kneading the muscle as he brought it up, pulling you against him. His fingers trailed upward, firm yet teasing, sending sparks down your spine. He tilted your head to the side, lips grazing your jaw, then lower, lower—his mouth settling at the delicate space between your jaw and neck.

When he pressed his lips there, you let out a soft whimper, barely aware you had done it. The warmth of his mouth against your skin, the way his breath fanned over the sensitive spot—it was dizzying.

He smirked against your neck. He barely had time to make a comment before—

"Hey!"

Zeus' voice shattered the moment. "If you're gonna have sex, do it at the next stop OUTSIDE the bus. I don't wanna hear you two going at it!"

Heat flooded your face. You let your forehead fall against Poseidon's shoulder, laughing softly in embarrassment.

Poseidon groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Shut up, Zeus."

Zeus snickered. "You're welcome." It was revenge for what he had done before.

Poseidon muttered something under his breath, but as you glanced up at him—his face slightly pink, his lips kiss swollen—you just smiled.

You gave him one last chaste kiss on the mouth, slow and lingering, a quiet promise that this wasn't the end of whatever had just begun. Your fingers brushed over his arm in a gentle pat, grounding both of you back to reality.

"We should go to sleep." You murmured, your voice softer now, reluctant but firm.

His eyes, still hazy with emotion, softened at the sight of you. There was something unspoken in his gaze, something that made your heart clench just a little. But he didn't argue. He simply exhaled, slow and steady, before finally loosening his hold on you.

His fingers grazed your waist one last time as he pulled away, as if reluctant to break the connection.

"Yeah," He finally said, voice quieter now. "we should."

With one last glance, he eased himself down from your bunk, settling into his own below you. The space between you suddenly felt colder, emptier—but the warmth he left behind lingered on your skin. You couldn't help the smile that had formed on your face from ear to ear, you had to stop yourself from squealing, though.

And with that, the bus rolled on, carrying you both into the quiet of the night.

[twistedpink]

Mc inserts x TWST characters pt.2 (OG post) (Pt.3)

(non-yuu pairings that fit into the plot of twst, if you like this then you might want to look at the first part!)

Savanclaw!Mc x Cater Diamond

Enemies to lovers with your favourite diva!! The two of you compete constantly through magicam and spelldrive, getting progressively pettier until the only solution is to kiss it out.. You’re trying to keep an ear out for your junior, and it just so happens Cater’s sniffing out your plan to go for gold in this year’s tournament. You might as well take the chance to mess with him! It’s so easy to love the face he makes when you give him the slip, and you’re totally making it your wallpaper when this is all over.

“Yo, Babe! If you’re in the same dorm, then you know Ruggie, yeah? We need to have a chat”

“Ohmigod you totally think all beastmen know each other, don’t you?? cancled :)”

Shroud!Mc x Vil Schoenheit

Ids attached himself to engineering and gaming pretty early, but your passion is fully unattainable. You’d clung onto pop idols and the art of stage makeup from an early age. Your longest running interest by far is Vil Schoenheit,, He rescued you from destructive habits and encouraged you to value self improvement. You’ve probably invested millions into his career (every thaumark sent anonymously, you’d die if he started to recognize your attached messages). Supporting Ortho in his SDC audition is your official reason to talk with him, and all the teasing from Idia will be so worth it when your Schoenheit debut palette gets signed! You’ve kept it in mint condition behind glass for years admiring it- and waiting for THE day.

“Mr. Schoenheit? My younger brother performed for you today, and uh, your signature please?”

“Normally I’d send both of you home for this. I’m sure you’re well aware of my paparazzi policy, However, I haven’t seen this particular relic in years! Just what have you done to preserve the quality?”

Pomefiore!Mc x Ruggie Bucchi

You’re #1 in the business of pissing off your parents- shopping copious amounts and then going to school across the country satiated you for awhile, but they’ve done something particularly revenge worthy now. The best scandal you can think of is getting a trashy boytoy to bring home for the break, but you’re not really into idiots.. Ruggie can be a very good actor given the right motivations, and he might even fool you into a real relationship before next semester.

“C’mon it’s not like I’ll need a script, sugar. I’m a natural, scout’s honor!”

“Either way, it won’t hurt to rehearse for convenience :/ Kiss me now so we don’t look stupid later.”

Scarabia!Mc x Floyd leech

God you hate that fish faced idiot >:( It’s bad enough that the housewarden’s moodswings guaranteed your holiday plans were all shot, but now Jamil’s getting hounded by the mafia! It’s your responsibility to get them off his back, but it’s not like you’re enjoying it. Somehow it’s even worse to watch Floyd when he’s playing dumb, and his emotional roller coaster keeps you walking on eggshells. The show must go on though, and if you’ve gotta play “wrestle until the biting stops” then you’ll do it :/

“Floyd, it’s dinner time, and I will tear you a new one if it means you’ll get moving.”

“PLEASEEEE tiger sharky just one more round :( I’ll even give your pen back!!”

Octavinelle!Mc x Kalim Al-Asim

You’re probably one of the most talkative of octavinelle students, and definitely a solid salesman. Kalim’s a prime target for resales and marketing practice, so naturally you join the pop music club. A year of “playing nice for the jackpot” leads you to lie awake at night, terrified that he’ll see through your facade and ditch you- it would cut off your best friendship, you’d be forced to leave the club! At some point you realize you’d stopped selling him things months ago, and your worst nightmare happened right under your nose. You fell in love.

“Hey, that solo was so inspiring! You’re really making progress!”

“It still isn’t on par with yours, though. Are you available to keep practicing after school? I’m sure Jamil would appreciate the break, and I would enjoy the company..”

Staff!Mc x Lilia Vanrouge

Of course your first job would come with some pet bat, it was too good to be true :( Full time at a bits and bobs shop near one of the best schools in the country WITH flexible hours? You must’ve been desperate to accept without reading about your babysitting in the footnote. He comes in everyday during your shift (regardless of the hours you take, it’s like he has a sixth sense), and has the audacity to exist in your space! It’s not like he even does anything to get banned!! He just stands there. Menacingly. You’re waiting for the day where he leaves convincing evidence that he’s there to traffic you or something- because if you didn’t know better you’d think he has a big, fat crush on you.

“Darling, how is the shop? I’ve taken care of those juvenile delinquents for you!”

“Taken care of? Whatever. Get back to class, kid.”

[klausinamarink]

based on this hilarious video with Gianmarco Soresi whom I’ve been watching his comedy work for a few months now

read on ao3

“What do you do?” The standup of the hour - the guy had introduced himself as Eddie - points at Steve.

Flustered at the attention directing every eye in the club to his table, Steve tries not to stammer as he answers, “Well, uh, I make movies.”

“Oh!” Eddie genuinely looks interested. “So you’re a director?”

“Yeah, pretty much. At least I started out as an indie, but I have a big project that’s out and a couple more on the way.” One table nearby claps and Steve tries to wave them off to stop.

“So what was that big project? Was it something we would’ve seen?” Eddie repositions himself so he has one leg up on the stool. Steve stares at how lean they seem with the tight black jeans. He’s got them daddy long legs. His brain suddenly burps out and it nearly makes Steve lose his composure.

“Uh, ha, I did The Final Bat. It’s on Shudder.” Steve shrugs nonchalantly, perfectly hiding his internal cringe. The horror genre is way out of his league and Steve’s already seen The Final Bat being on a few critical lists damning the title as another cliche-filled mess. He only did it because he had finally caved to Dustin’s pleading to make at least one horror movie.

Eddie, on the other hand, seems ecstatic by this revelation. “No way! That’s sick, dude! So the next time you make a horror flick, you’re gonna watch Blumhouse and A24 coming in at each other with steel chairs for distribution rights.”

Everyone laughs, including Robin. She smacks on Steve’s bicep with a wide grin. He smacks her back before he turns back to Eddie and clarifies, “I don’t like horror! I’m not doing it again!”

Aghast, Eddie throws an invisible hat to the ground and stamps on his feet. “Come on! Then what’s the point of watching the studios bite each other’s dicks off when you’re slipping out to watch - I don’t know - the Barbie movie! Now they’re just fighting for the next shitty horror movie to exist!”

Steve covers his mouth but fails to hold back in the laughter. Eddie’s infectious energy is starting to get to him. It makes his chest clench with something other than the usual pains.

Eddie patiently waits for the patrons to quiet down before continuing, still attentive to Steve, “I’m just wondering actually if you ever done theater class.”

“Sure did! Two years in high school,” Steve confirms.

“Let me guess, they did Hamlet?” Eddie raises an eyebrow like it’s meant to be accusatory.

“Yep, soon after I joined.” Steve nods, the memory of that production flashing before his eyes. It had its ups and downs but it was one of the most fun things Steve had ever experienced.

“No wonder they started as soon as your handsome ass walked in the club.” Eddie says low and flirtatiously into the microphone, staring directly into Steve’s eyes. It echoes across the room and back, bringing the howling laughter with it.

Heat crawls behind his face. Steve keeps his hands on the table, forcing down the urge to hide behind them. “I-” He stops to cough, “I wasn’t supposed to play Hamlet.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide, “What do you mean?!”

Robin answers loud enough for everyone to hear, “He was the grave robber, but the other guy who did Hamlet got into a coma a week before the show and Steve knew all the lines.”

“W-Woah, woah, woah!” Eddie holds his hands out, looking scandalous. He throws looks around the club. “Everyone, shut the fuck up right now! This is more important than caring about the rest of you!” Eddie drags the stool over and perches on it like a very much invested gargoyle, almost oblivious to the audience’s reaction.

“Okay, let me go through this.” He points at Steve, still holding eye contact as if Steve’s soul would provide the answer. “You weren’t Hamlet. You were meant to be the guy who gives him the skull to monologue. The OG Hamlet got into a coma for some reason-“

“Car accident.” Robin interjects.

“Yeah, no need to elaborate, ma’am. You, Steve-” Eddie breaks off for a second, holding back a laugh of his own. “You somehow knew all the Hamlet lines because you were waiting to skin OG Hamlet’s head and make his skull yours to do the monologue.”

There’s a scandalous outcry from all tables. Even when they mostly calm down, Steve uses the growing anticipation to ‘think’ about what Eddie just said before he casually shrugs and says, “Sounds about right.”

Eddie drops his face into his arm, letting everyone laugh at him. Steve lets himself break, his laughter bubbling out of him in a way that doesn’t sound so self-deprecating or hollow. If he was in a cynical mood, he would’ve thought it was pathetic that the only person who made him laugh so lightly again was some random standup.

After a moment, Eddie finally looks up, his face broken in disbelieving grin. He chuckles into the mic and looks back at Steve, “Sorry, it’s just I hear some wild stories in the crowd some nights and I think yours takes the cake.”

Steve smiles, “Thanks, man.”

Eddie stands up back, half-leaning onto the stool. “Do you still remember those lines? To be or not to be?”

The whole damn thing. “Uh… some of it?”

Eddie’s grin shifts into something more mischievous. “Let’s see who knows more.”

A collective oooh goes around the room, including Robin. She already has her phone out for recording. Steve rolls his eyes at her and takes a quick sip of his water. He clears his throat and starts, “‘To be or not to be, that is the question.’”

“‘Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer, the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune..’” Eddie says without missing a beat.

Oh, he thinks he knows it all. The sense of competition that Steve thought had died out with his future of a sports career reignites in his chest. He sits up even straighter. “‘Or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them.’”

“‘To die-to sleep, no more.’” Eddie slowly walks over to the edge of the stage, “‘And by a sleep to say we end the heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to.’”

“'tis a consummation devoutly to be wish'd.’” Steve almost shivers as he recites the line, uncertain if it’s from the club’s cooling temperatures or the intense gaze from Eddie’s eyes. “‘To die, to sleep.’”

“‘To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there's the rub,’” Eddie suggestively rubs a hand on his chest as he squats down. Steve’s eyes flicker to the hand, almost hypnotized by the motion. Nay, he shakes himself out of it. No distractions!

“‘For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil.’” It’s getting harder to remember the following lines. That hasn’t happened before. Steve has never forgotten the damn soliloquy in years, even when other people try to challenge him.

Eddie continues, “‘Must give us pause—there's the respect that makes calamity of so long life. For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, the oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely.’”

“‘The pangs-’” Steve feels his breath catching in his throat when he realizes, for the first time, what beautiful eyes Eddie has.

Oh. 

Eddie suddenly perks up in excitement. For a second, Steve thinks that Eddie has come to the exact same thoughts for him. But then he remembers that he hasn’t completed his line, so Steve feigns defeat.

“I win!” Eddie stands up with a triumphant cry. He spreads his arms out to embrace the cheering whoops and applause. “And I’ve only got to play Hamlet in-” He spins around and crouches down so he can look Steve in the eye again as Eddie’s voice booms into the mic, “-FOURTH GRADE, MOTHERFUCKER!” 

Steve’s not even mad. He just throws his head back, laughing and clapping along. 

Almost too soon, Eddie moves on to heckle on another table. But he keeps glancing over at Steve, his smile widening every time. And Steve smiles back, feeling a laugh slip out of his slips at every joke. He watches Eddie more closely, feeling his heart pound faster in his chest the more Eddie stays onstage. 

By the time Eddie has to depart and thank everyone for being here, Robin announces her need to go home and snuggle with her girlfriend. 

“Man, that was the most I’ve ever laughed in this place.” Steve stretches his back, groaning at the little pops. God, being in his early thirties can be a bitch sometimes.

Robin only hums, moving her eyebrows up and down suggestively. Steve pointedly makes no further comment as he pays the tab.

Outside, the crisp night air welcomes him. Steve takes in a whiff, staring up at the light-polluted sky as he bids Robin a goodbye. Then he hears his name being called. He turns around and sees Eddie hurrying out the doors.

Steve feels a smile already on his face, “Hey, Hamlet.” 

Eddie grins at him, teeth and all, “Hey, yourself.” 

They stare at each other but it lacks the competitive intensity earlier. Steve likes this. But he already has a feeling that this won’t be the first time either one of them would challenge the other.

“Sooo…” Steve says when the silence stretches a little too long. He gestures between himself and Eddie, “Wanna restart our introductions?”

Eddie’s eyes brighten, “Yeah! Right, sorry.” He clears his throat and thrusts a hand out. “My name is Eddie Munson. Self-proclaimed comedian and musician. You may recognize me as the guy who beat you in Hamlet’s famous speech.”

Steve takes his hand. Eddie feels bony and thin, but large enough to fit perfectly into Steve’s palm. He tries not to sound so eager as he says, “Steve Harrington. Film director who doesn’t like horror. Believe it or not, I actually know the whole stupid thing.”

Eddie tilts his head, narrowing his eyes, “Really? Like, no offense, but even if you remember that much-”

“‘And thus the native hue of resolution is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, and enterprises of great pith and moment with this regard their currents turn awry and lose the name of action.’” Steve winks with the Harrington Charm, smile and all. 

Eddie stares at him for so long that Steve feels his heart racing for a different reason. And then, Eddie turns around and muffles a loud scream into his free hand. When the man turns back to face him, he’s sporting the widest smile Steve has never seen.

“You knew the whole thing!?” Eddie’s eyes sparkle with utter adoration.

“Yep.” Steve pops the ‘p’, grinning like a little shit.

“But why did you forget that line?”

“Let’s just say,” Steve squeezes Eddie’s hand, intertwining their fingers together, “I got distracted by the pangs of love.”

Eddie bites on his lower lip as he swoons his body over so they are pressing against each other. With half-lidded eyes, Eddie whispers, “You know that part is Hamlet referring to missing his dead dad, right?”

Of course Steve couldn’t help but kiss him.

[mabaki]

Thorns and Roses! the whole family 😊

Caira / Rosa / Vince / Laurane / Mabaki The horizontal piece is how I envisioned this piece to be overall but it's not an ideal presentation for Socials so I made the vertical version above.

All the girls belong to @mme-chouette

Separate versions and long text below

I just draw out the whole thing and crop like half of it out LMAO bad habit.

in the OG verse, the kids are all adopted by both Caira and Mbk.

🌹🌹🌹🌹

Rosa (Rosakya) (Thief / Specter) was first. She and Caira already 'met' each other in the Dream. Caira awakens years before Rosa, and when it was Rosa's turn, she went out to search for Caira. She and Mbk butt heads at first as Rosa came to them during the time Mbk finally settled down with Caira, but they eventually came to an understanding with each other when Mbk had helped Rosa control her Specter powers.

Rosa is quite sensitive in sensing other vari's emotions and finds it to too intense at times, which affects her own feelings and thought processes and leads her to emotional outbursts. She also struggled with controlling her own powers as she disliked the feeling of a Specter's ability to give and take life force.

The first time Rosa acknowledged Mbk as a father figure was a slip-up and just accidentally called him 'dad'. He of course just stares at her in shock like, "Is that how you see me?" to which she admits yes, and they hug it out.

She joins the Order of Whispers first, and once Caira comes back from the Wizard's Tower, joins the Astral Ward.

🌹🌹🌹🌹

Vince (Vincent) (Revenant) was found by Mabaki during his solo 'patrol' round in Kessex Hills, specifically in Lychcroft Mere. Vince had managed to escape from a small group of Nightmare Courtier's grasps, wounded. When he arrived at Lychroft Mere, the fungal infection had taken over his weakened state, thus making him very sick.

Mbk likes to make rounds in Kessex Hills in search of the Toxic Offshoots for spores, but had found the sick and wounded sapling barely managing to fend off a forgotten/dormant Risen. Mbk comes in to intervene and, discovering Vince's sorry state, and brings him back home to nurse him back to health. With nowhere else to go, Vince ends up staying with them and thus becomes adopted.

Vince is the calmest and independent of the three kids and joins the Priory later, to follow Caira's footsteps in a way.

🌹🌹🌹🌹

Laurane (Guardian) was brought home by Mbk as a helpless Sapling who struggles with keeping focus. They met as Laurane was a recruit for the Vigil that Mbk had to help train (as a group of recruits). Noticing how much she struggled with many things, especially focus and becoming distracted, it had clearly reminded him of Caira's same issue, thus dragging her home in hopes that his wife could help.

Laurane was too 'green' even as a sapling and was adamant she could take care of herself, but Mbk had clearly disagreed judging by the way she acted around others. She had unfortunately not been granted as much knowledge as others from the Dream and it reflected so. Thus Mbk takes on the role of being her mentor and now father figure.

She is the strongest of the three and is very Skritt-brained, and very carefree. Sometimes she forgets her strength and hugs everyone too tight (except Mbk, cuz he can handle that lmao)

~~~~

Well that was long. Thanks for reading LMAO Excuse me if the writing is janky, I'm just typing what comes to mind about them LMAO

[opentanie]

Trying to find a way to fix SotR, a short essay by yours truly.

(Mind you, I'm still reading this book but it doesn't matter - we all know how it ends, not only due to reading Catching Fire, but also because this book is almost offensivly predictable in most aspects. So, these are not my final thoughts, but my proposition how the book could be improved in my humble opinion.)

First and foremost, don't make Haymitch a narrator, except for the epilogue. Because Haymitch brings nothing new to the table as POV: he's a boy from the Seam, half-orphan with one sibling who he loves very much or at least we're supposed to believe that because he struggles to find a fuck about anything else than Lenore Dove alas, all we've already seen. We know this perspective. Instead, give us two narrators: Maysilee Donner and Lenore Dove. One for describing the games from the inside, and give us a peek into Capitol 24 years prior to the og trilogy, and one to let us finally take a look into districts when the game is on. Especially since, as someone pointed out, 2nd Quarrel seems like a moment when the anger in districts started to slowly outweight the fear of Capitol - because this time they took almost fifty children, and it's both horrifying and, against Snow's wishes, makes them realize for the first time that the numbers are on their side, not their opressor's. This would also fix the problem of us not knowing much about Haymitch life before the games: because Lenore Dove is part of this life, so what would she do in this scenario? Try to help Abernathys by taking over some of Haymitch's duties in the household? Spent time with their mutual friends, when they're forced to watch the games, so at least they could have emotional support while doing so? Also, having Haymitch as the narrator of the epilogue, outliving both POVs who told the story of the quarrell, matches him being the only survivor of the arena.

Having Lenore Dove as POV could avoid adapting the Covey as some sort of noble savages, who live sort of outside the system, and are so much more aware than others. The Covey we know from TBOSAS are just a bunch of young people who were forced to live in one place, with no adults to take care of them, and by the end of that book they took another blow, losing their unofficial leader. Show us the real Covey, two middle aged, lonely men raising a girl, who clearly romanticizes Lucy Gray - which in itself tells us, how dear her memory is held. Seeing Lucy Gray through Lenore Dove's eyes could even serve as a good commentary on glorification and dehumanization of inspiring figures: something we can currently see with people thirsting over Luigi instead of focusing on his case, and even with the weird woobification some people do to Bisan ("if Bisan die, we riot" etc), as if she isn't reporting on mass genocide for people to focus on the entire situation, not her. It was something only briefly touched upon in the og trilogy, and it was seen from Katniss' perspective, when she was the subject of that, so, unlike what we actually got, it would be something new in SC's commentary.

Don't retcon Haymitch's personality. Let him be cocky and arrogant, it doesn't automatically mean he's a bad person. Hell, he was like that through three books and readers loved him, so it's not like it isn't even a safe option (and SotR chooses safe options for itsplot through and through). Moreover, it's a possibility for another commentary: sexism. Because Maysilee is rude and confident too, but she's treated like a bitch, while Haymitch is a loveable rascal. By keeping Haymitch's original personality, the book would allow them to be each other narrative mirrors - different backgrounds, different lives, but similar personalities. Show us both how differently they're treated back in D12, and how differently Capitol approaches them because of their gender, when they say similar things.

Bring Chaff in. If you don't remember, who Chaff is, don't worry - Suzanne Collins seems to forget as well! Anyways, Chaff is the victor of 45th Hunger Games, and Haymitch's friend, who lives in D11. He could be very easily vowed into the plot by assuming that usually every tribute has their own mentor, so D12 this year gets three: Mags, Wiress and Chaff (and none for Louella, as she still dies in this version before they arrive in the apartament). Not only for the development of his and Haymitch's relationship, but also to give his character some depth. I think Mags and Wiress' relationship with Loose Cannons was actually one of the bright points for the book, so Chaff having interactions with both LC and the other two mentors could work well.

Don't shy away from romance. Not because of fanservice reasons, but because it can compell the narrative and give the story another layer. With prequel like SotR you obviously need some parallels to the source material, but you can twist them - and Maysilee and Lenore Dove are perfect for that. Whether you like Gale or not, Lenore Dove is Gale of this story, even in the og book, no matter how SC avoids this comparison bc people don't like Gale. She already shares emotional connection with Haymitch, she lives life similar to his, she despises the merchant families from D12 (her constant criticisms of Maysilee...), she's open in her hatred for the Capitol - but in the end, all she could do in SotR was to sing some songs, unlike Gale, who was the first one to push for resistance in D12. So show Lenore Dove as this initially strong person, who gets challenged by reality, and it turns out that she isn't as tough as she thought of herself. On the opposite side we have Maysilee, or Peeta of this equation. A merchant kid, conventionally attractive (pale, blonde etc), with implied not-so-pleasant family life (her comment about her mother choosing clothes for her and her sister implies some sort of lack of control of her life even in her household) - but, unlike Peeta, she's angry. And she doesn't try to appeal to people, she bares her teeth at them, which they don't even expect of her, giving her proper looks and cool attitude. The romance doesn't have to be outright spelled out to readers, it can only be implied that Haymitch and Maysilee's trauma bonding is getting into territories dangerous for his relationship with Lenore Dove. Just don't throw that damn sibling line out of the blue and let readers decide for themselves, how they read it. Having said that, I believe that Snow would definitely frame this version of Haymitch and Maysilee as romantic to get on Lenore Dove's nerve, as in his head she's merely a Lucy Gray's proxy.

NO PLANNED RIOT PLOTLINE. We already had that in CF, and it clearly wasn't in Collins' head while writing about Haymitch's games in there for one obvious reason: Capitol would never let Mags or Wiress or Beetee live, if that was the case. Sure, those characters still should provide the tributes with some informations that would be useful later in the plot, but the entire idea of Newcomers is about these kids grasping the reality that they outnumber the enemy. Let them use this and decide to ruin the arena as the one last hurrah from them because they know they're going to die, so might as well show Capitol that they're here. That they matter. We had small act of defiance in the very first book with the berries, but everything after that was some sort of greater secret scheme - so let's go back to the roots, and let the tributes be the initiators. Let their riot inspire the rebellion, be the first spark and the start. Leave. The. Agency. To. The. Tributes. Bonus gain? Avoiding of accidental ableism by retconning Wiress' autism-coded behavior and Mags functioning despite implied stroke as the effects of Capitol torture. Not everything has to be the evil caused by the Capitol! Mags entire arc in Catching Fire was so moving and powerful because it was a woman so old, she couldn't even talk anymore, yet she still decided to save people.

ENOUGH OF THE DAMN RETCON JUST TO SHOW THAT EVERYONE ARE CONNECTED. Yeah, D12 is small, the Seam is even smaller, so it's obvious Burdock and Haymitch knew each other and were probably friendly, but WHAT IS THE POINT OF MAKING THEM SUPER BESTIES, WHEN HAYMITCH NEVER MENTIONED ANYTHING ABOUT IT IN THE OG BOOKS? While it's obvious that he could influence Katniss through that the moment he started to care about her winning? How come that Katniss never knew anything about the Covey, if it was still alive and well with her dad apparently having more than one Covey relative? (And how big is Covey anyways? I feel like SC doesn't know either). Just stop with the fanservice ffs. And yeah, Effie totally was in D12 for the last 24 years. Totally. Apparently, Katniss is just an idiot who doesn't understand what she sees.

While we're at it, stop making Capitol look stupid. I can buy Snow letting Haymitch live after the parade because he decided it's a better punishment to have him fear the unknown - but that's as far, as my suspension of disbelief can go. The Second Quarrell was supposed to be the biggest event ever held by Capitol until 75th games, yet there's a fuckup after fuckup. I know it's supposed to show us how neglected D12 is, but I think it could be done without making Snow look like a fucking idiot, who's apparently not feared enough by organizers, if they aren't afraid of screwing something up. That being said, the accident on the parade can still play out similarly to how it happened, simply because accidents happen, especially with 48 people in the chariots. I could make entire bulletpoint just about how badly Snow is written in this book for the sake of reminding people of Snowbaird, but not having Haymitch as POV during their encounter before introducing Lou Lou basically erases this problem. We still could see that Snow is not over Lucy Gray, and will be forever bitter about it without spelled it out in the most riddiculous way possible.

Remember the love triangle plot I proposed? It also helps with Haymitch as a middle-aged man still longing after his dead, teenage girlfriend. It's not romantic, it's creepy - and Suzanne Collins knows it too, because she makes sure to let readers know that he totally sees her in his imagination as if she grew old with him. While never letting that one teenage love go suits Snow, because he's an evil person who never develops emotionally, it doesn't suit Haymitch's characterization; moreover, it doesn't work as a narrative foil for Snowbaird, because Lenore Dove never decided to stay with Haymitch. She's dead, and it's not her ghost, only his fantasy of her. But where's Maysilee's place in all of this, if she's dead too? Well, that's kinda the point. Maysilee, the girl with whom he emotionally cheated with on his girlfriend, and also the first death for which he can blame himself. And when she dies, he promises himself that he'll never let Lenore Dove know the truth, that he will lie about what she saw on tv, especially after learning that Lenore Dove is the only one left for him, because his family is dead too - and then, Lenore Dove dies as well (in this version, still by Haymitch's unknowing hand, but I think it could be executed better), filling Haymitch with regret that he could neither stay loyal, nor save her. The geese metaphor would be fine, if SC did fact checking and knew that geese mourn for a long period of time but eventually can find another partner. Haymitch can still mourn the girl(s) he loved, but the period of mourning ends for him when the war ends, and there won't be any more dead girls like Maysilee and Lenore Dove. Of course, since I hate how Haymitch's entire mourning in the books was retconned into a single target, the girls are not the only ones he mourns, his family, Louella, Lou Lou, and the tributes from the next 23 years are also what haunts him - but his two love interests have a special place in the line because the regret of 'casuing' their deaths is mixed with personal regrets of very grounded teenage mistakes that couldn't reach any resolution. And when the war ends, the world in which his two biggest regrets died, ends as well, so he can finally heal with his family of choice: Katniss, Peeta, and Effie too (honestly, I think even SC believes that movies handled Effie better than her in Mockingjay). We don't need another romance in the epilogue, but we need the spark of hope that it can happen. Not necessarly with Effie, Asterid would be a reasonable narrative choice as well, but don't just leave this man who lived a lonely, miserable life still hanging onto his high school sweetheart. And, for the love of god, if you have to involve poetry, just don't choose the poem that tells you directly that he will never meet his lost love in the afterlife:

Even with all these changes, I think SotR would be a very unnecessary book, but miles more respectful for both the readers and the established characters.

Thanks for coming to my ted talk, I guess.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Imagine all the invincibles travelling the multiverse looking for another version of reader after he dies but he only exists in one universe

We would be so cooked chat.

There's a couple of outcomes I can think of.

The vincibles all just losing it more and more, becoming more and more unstable as they go from universe to universe looking for you. ANY version of you. They'd accept literally anything, be it a female version, old, young (in that case they'd just be guardians instead they aren't monsters...), alien, anything. This would happen in any situation.

One of the outcomes would be that they end up killing each other because the reader was kinda the one keeping them all in check and somewhat sane. Losing you would shatter that, and when they couldn't find any version of you, or find a way to bring you back, that pain would be turned on each other.

Or, and this is my favorite cuz I like em crazy. They just become even more devoted. Like, some kinda extreme cult with you as their god figure. Straight up, spread the gospel by force across the multiverse because they lost you but no one will forget how grand you were, how incredible and kind and-

This also helps them spread their search across the multiverse, especially if they got people who actually start to think the same way as them.

Lmao, ends up with more vincibles joining up from all the glitter and roses the og vincibles spit about you and how much they love you.

Of course, they also check universes they've already been in too, just in case you got born late, and if they discover time travel they'd also check the past in case you got born early.

If any version of you exist, they will find you, it's just a matter of time and devotion.

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

A redo of one of my most popular post! ~{ here’s the OG post 🖤🤍Void & Prism🤍🖤}~ Enjoy!

Void and Prism

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

After a long day of school and than dealing with ghosts all Danny wanted to do was go to sleep but that’s when tragedy struck as Danny was changing back into human form his parents come in and saw him

They just stared to the other for a few moments but for Danny it feels like hours, no one moved until Jack pulled out a blaster and shot him in the his side and he wailed at the pain and his yelling got Jazz’s attention and she come running to the door as Maddie tried to knock him out and put restrains on him when Jazz grab something [ was that a bat? ] and hit Maddie in the back of the head and grab Danny and ran to the portal when she’s trying to get the portal to open until trying to keep Danny awake and to get him to hold the area where he was shot to try to stop the bleeding

That’s when Jack and Maddie came in blasting [How is she still up?!] as the portal opens Jazz and Danny get hit by one of the blasts going through Jazz and into Danny but due to dying by an Ecto-Blaster she does not become a ghost but the second hit fully killed Danny and the force of the blast sent him flying through the portal and though something and all Danny can remember before he passes out is yelling [was that him or Jazz?] and something cold holding him it almost feels like the Void…..

=====================================

The Void was not used to visitors and they never would be [Not that they wanted to be, they don’t like people in their lair ever] so when they felt a core in their lair they expecting it to be like the last time something come in here but when they see the small ghosting with nobody else that could be their parents that makes The Void get closer to see them

But when they see that the baby is injured on their side The Void makes a decision and just thinks “MINE” and grabs the injured baby and brings them back to their nest in their lair and as they do they grab some of the void and bandage the baby’s side

A few hours later the baby wakes up in the nest and seems confused which is to be expected from the baby but a few seconds later the baby starts crying and wailing and starts to wrap them around us and lets them cry…

=====================================

After a few months [ or at least a while time is odd here ] and the Void and Danny grow closer even though he had to explain that he is not a baby and the Void says they understand but he doesn’t really believe them but they stoped calling him ‘Baby’ so he’s not really that upset about it

And they started to call him ‘Prism’ so progress….he guesses and he’s started to notice that he looks more….wispy? Airy..? let’s just go white Airy Like his hair [ that has grown out a bit ] and moves like there wind even if there isn’t and instead of the tail he has when flying fast it looks more like fog

So of course Danny ask The Void what is going on and The Void reveals that due to him always being in their lair [and didn’t get the core ripped out of him] his core and The Ghost Zone has recognized him as The Ancient of Creation the opposite of The Void [!!Explanation!! The last Ancient of Creation kinda dipped to get away from The Void and they needed a new one that wasn’t going to leave because of sharing a lair with The Void and picked Danny due to The Void actually liking this one]

=====================================

Now for the DC part of this!

As Tim was going through the time-stream looking for Bruce, He was walking around looking for anyplace he might be when was pulled into what looked to be a Void and a few minutes later he wakes up [he passed out when he was pulled in] as he stands up he looks around and in the far distance

There is a large black temple with white fog and accents on it and the areas plant life that is around it looks like it is fighting for its life but all around the temple is floating islands that look like it’s been slowly eat it kinda like how water corrodes some rocks it looks like that and the area where the sky or something should be there’s just…nothing

but Tim can’t think to much into it as that’s when he sees a person flying around close to him but just far away to not see him it looks like their looking for something and time hides not wanting to be seen by this mysterious but very powerful person..

Danny was flying around the edges their lair just to move around [who would have thought that The Void was so protective that they wouldn’t like it when he gets to close to the edges] when he feels a presents that was here and he had to find them before Void did [They Hated people in their lair at all much less without permission ] so he goes looking for them

So when he sees a flash of red from his side he turns and looks down that the…boy? How did he even get in here the entrance alone should have killed him?? [Clockwork] but now is not the time to be thinking about that as he had to get the boy out of here

So Danny floats down to where the boy is and ask who he is and why he’s here so Tim explains that his adoptive father is lost in the time-stream and everyone else believes that his adoptive father is dead but he knows his alive and Danny feels bad for this boy he has definitely not slept in days by the eye-bags and the general tiredness in his stance and wants to help this boy who he finds out his name is Tim [also due to his role he feels more sympathetic to things that past Ancients of Creation made and humans are one of them , the past Ancients of creation were either killed by The Void or dip giving up their role due to The Void]

Anyway so Danny grabs Tim’s hand and flys them both to where The Void main body is to explain to them to help [ and not to kill Tim ] which goods… surprisingly well Danny expected to have to protect Tim from them and The Void says they will help if Tim comes but some time for Danny and when ask why the just say “Enrichment” and Tim and Danny aren’t gonna push it so they leave it at that

The Void gives Tim a compass to show him where Bruce is and The Void and Danny send him on his way

=====================================

When Tim accepted the deal with The Void he was think that they would send a portal to come get him and he can just hang out with Danny for a bit and just do that for a bit

What he was not expecting was when he and other hero’s were stoping a cult that was try to bring back “The Great Calamity” and stuff Tim really didn’t care all to much [ not to mention that the Batfam fucked up and Tim is a bit mad at them ] that one of the cultists while they were fighting would finish the ritual and open portal but thankfully Constantine and Zatanna shut that down fast but not fast enough for one the The Great Calamity’s large hands [which look very familiar..hmmm] to grab him and pull him though the portal with them

So now here’s him sitting in the black temple with Danny by his side making and growing flowers and plants in his hands [ he tired to give one to The Void who was watching them but the Flowers disintegrated has soon as they touched :( ] but his chill right now and his sure the other hero’s are doing fine without him

[ What Tim doesn’t know is the chaos back home ]

=====================================

Now onto one of my fav parts the details!

For Danny I’m thinking this for what he actually looks like

And for hair

Not this complicated but you get the just of it

And here’s the “more” human from of The Void

And a photo of how Danny shows that he’s mad that The Void ~{ lol }~

The Void and Danny holding hands⬇️

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

And that’s about it I hope you all like it! See you things that live it the walls later! Byeeee

[caffeinatedvigilantewriter]

This one’s a long, but a favorite.

Jumaji inspired

Serious Chaos

So GIW has managed to get a hold of Technus’s new project. A project centered on video games.

Technus’s plan was to trap Phantom in a video game.

The game would take place in the ghost zone, and you’d have to fight different ghosts to defeat each level. The levels get more difficult as you go on. You can stop to grab ecto-dejecto to increase your health.

Anyway, the GIW got their hands on it and tested the game on the ghost scums.

Dani (Elle, 16), Danny (19), Jordan (Dan 27) and Jazz (22) (she became ver liminal due to ecto exposure) were meeting up in Amity Park when the got ambushed and sucked into…. a video game?

The GIW plays the game to test and realize that it’s actually pretty fun. And they need more funding after Vlad Masters didn’t renew the contract (something about his godchildren and daughter going missing?)

So the mass produced and sold the game.

It is an instant hit.

Now the other copies are actual programs characters and sorts, but the OG copy got lost and ended up in the shipments or games going to Gotham.

It was Wayne Famiky game night, and they all decided to play the four player game that came out last month. It was called The Ghost Zone.

They read reviews and description of the game and through it would be fun

(The Ghost Zone is a dangerous place, but with the help of your great, you might manage to make it out alive! You have four characters to choose from: Dr Jazz Phantom a brilliant psychologist. Danny Phantom, astromancy expert. Dante Phantom the ghost engineer and Elle Phantom, the teen explorer and ghost expert!)

None of the Waynes had played the game before, but they turned it and everything seemed normal. Duke played as Danny, Dick am played as Elle, Steph played as Jazz, and Tim played as Dante.

None of them could make it past level 5 without dying, so they handed the controllers over to Cass, Damian, Jason and Barbara.

But the moment Damian (17) and Jason (27) (changing the ages here) touched the controllers to pick their characters, they vanished.

There were two new characters on the screen, along with two frozen avatars.

Jason Todd: gun expert and literature nerd.

Damian Al Ghul: swordsman and animal whisperer

(Damian and Jason are the most liminal, and this is the OG copy of the game and it mistook them as ghost and sucked them in.)

~

Jason and Damian had been sucked into a video game.

Now, they have to survive the ghost zone until the Bats can get them out. They also learned that the 4 ‘characters’ are actually real people.

They were ghosts, ghosts were real. And they got sucked into a video game. For an odd reason, they had their swords and guns.

The bats are freaking out. They watched two of their members get sucked into a video can that was known for being impossible to beat.

Like I mentioned, this was the OG copy, so the characters (I’m gonna start calling the video game characters ‘characters’ and the players ‘players’) have some control over what they can ‘say’.

They can change the character dialogue to give clues and hints.

But when it comes to actual gameplay, they are mostly at the mercy of the controller, with a few exceptions.

But considering none of the hero’s exactly have enough time to learn the game and master it in a short amount of time, (except Tim (he watched Bernard played extensively) they are forced to call the worlds best players.

~

Tucker Foley, Samantha Manson, Valerie Grey and and Wes Weston immediately knew that the characters in the video game were their classmates. It was obvious once you saw the signs. And Technus came to them the moment he realized he messed up.

Considering they all live in Amity, the ecto in the air is bringing out the OG programming, so snippets of the characters actual conversation pop up on screen for a moment before glitching back to its programmed sentences.

Unfortunately, Sam and Wes didn’t have the video game experience that Tucker did, so it was up to him to try to beat the game, hoping it would bring his fiends back. He mastered the game up to level 20 out of 25, but never made it past that point.

Suddenly he was asked to come to the Hall of Justice to play video games for The Justice Leauge.

Valerie and Sam came with him, and they realized why they were asked to come.

This was the copy that Dan, Dani, Dan and Jazz got sucked in.

~

Shenanigan ideas

-characters drops codes and hints about ghosts and the GIW in the character dialogue

- Tucker logs in with his name and the Bats deciphered a code that translated to ‘Tckrs playng!!!’

-since Dani is the ghost expert in the game, she’s very overcoming by stress and lashes out at Damian, who ends up not liking her (he actually loves people who could bend him in half, it’s a Wayne Family Trait) (totally serious chaos) (reluctant partners to lovers)

-SPECIAL POWERS

• Dan can collect scrap junk and create weapons out of them. The long he collects, the more dangerous the weapon

• Jazz can stun the ghost with a few words in ghost speak, but will need ecto-dejecto to heal her damaged vocal cords (and because she’s liminal and not a halfa)

• Danny can summon a previously defeated ghost if he’s at full power, but when he does he’s then extremely weakened. He also has a spell books of smaller spells that he can use when the stars align

• Dani can talk to the ghost in their native language when they were alive and clam them down temporarily. She can also read maps of the GZ easier than the others.

•Jason can speak ghost speak easier, and is the only one that can read it casual. Can also wield any type of gun

•Damian can speak to the ghost animals and get their help on special occasions, but will need an ecto-dejecto boost after

- the ghosts they have to fight are imitations of the the rouge gallery

- Sam and Wes creating a true crime podcast. Which gains views, and they talk about the missing Fentons. It gains traction online and people realize that the characters in the game look alike, have the same hobbies and interest, and the same names. The GIW is suddenly under scrutiny

-can someone PLEASE make trading cards of the characters and the ghosts!?!!? :DDD

[nicarnelian]

furever with kaji!

₊˚⊹ featuring: kaji ren x gn! reader

₊˚⊹ summary: when you bring a cat to kaji’s apartment and ask his help in making a decent home for the feline, every request must come with an equivalent reward. for kaji, he thinks kisses are sufficient compensations to your requisition.

₊˚⊹ word count: 1.5k

₊˚⊹ warnings: tooth-rotting cringe fluff, grammar errors!

₊˚⊹ author’s note: binged frieren yesterday, and himmel and frieren occupied my mind, lived on it, rent free 24/7 for the past days! i’m also rewatching 86, bc shinlena are my ogs! anw, enjoy this kaji fic w cats bc i love cats (this is a shameless self-insert fic, if i think abt it) ;)))

kaji ren finds cats tolerable. well, actually, he considers them insignificant to his daily life, so he does not particularly hate them. the only moments where he would come into interaction with those little felines are when the townspeople would either ask him a favor, such as by catching them or feeding them, or when those cats would rub themselves on his feet and legs.

he doesn’t find them annoying though; he actually consider cats something that helps him calm down, shifting his attention to the little furry animals begging for rubs and pats, rather than the rowdy environment that encircled him. but, there were also times when the cats bite him out of affection, and kaji, knowing the person that he is, screams at the animal. afterwards, kaji would flinch as he watches the cat run away from him, feeling guilty as he looks down at the small strands of fur left on his pants.

after a couple of cat interactions, it would take probably another month or two when he would interact or touch a cat properly. all of these cat memories of kaji were brought up by the current situation between the two of you.

the second you knock on his apartment’s wood door, kaji unlocks it, knowing that you would be visiting him. he missed you, even though you do see each other after classes and during weekends. kaji has gotten clingy with you — the type of clingy that continues to seek the presence of the other, the type that opt to hear your voice rather than casual texts on the flat surface of his phone. but now, he kinda regrets opening the door for you. his gaze travels all around your figure, until it stops at a pint-sized, black and white animal that you hug near your chest.

he looks directly at your eyes, “why the hell is that in your arms?”

the both of you stand motionless, as no one dared to break eye contact. you wear a dumb smile on your lips as you giggle at your boyfriend’s statement. you lightly pet the small animal that leans into your touch. “it’s a kitten!”

“i know it’s a damned cat, but why the hell are you here, bringing a kitten in my apartment?!” kaji could not control the volume of his voice properly, causing him to step back as he realizes what he had done to you. you see the guilt in his eyes spreading, as if afraid of the possibility that he might have hurt you from his words. you quickly give a light smile to reassure him, letting him know it’s alright and he didn’t hurt you in any way with his words.

“well, i didn’t know where to bring it! the landlady at my place doesn’t like pets, so here i am!” you continue giving him that beaming grin of yours. kaji finds you insufferable — the way these walls he had built since he was a child quickly dwindle into nothingness when you forced yourself into his life, with that stupid, witless, yet stunningly delicate smile.

kaji notices how your face contorts to ever single emotion possible — from how your eyebrows furrow in seriousness to annoyance whenever you do your assignments , and how they quickly crumple to relief whenever he says the simplest of motivational quotes that he most probably looked up online since he was new to interacting like this.

in months of dating you, he wanted to know everything about you albeit being impossible — but, he was the type to make any possibility a reality. months into your relationship, he has put into immense effort into knowing you, and you reciprocated such actions from your boyfriend. and, it’s safe to say that both of you are still staying strong after almost a year of being with him.

you welcome yourself into his room, which kaji did not mind since he will always think that whatever that is his is also yours. you settle the cat on his chair, much to his dismay though. “hey! it’ll leave random fur!”

you pout at him, “i just need a box and some discarded fabric to make him a home for the meantime. you have some?” kaji knows how much you love cats, which is why he completely abides by your requests. but, of course, every request comes with a equal reward.

“i have some boxes and i plan to throw away some of my clothes…” he mumbles. you extend your hands at him, like a child asking for candy. kaji smirks.

he walks towards your direction, closing the distance as he draws his face near yours. you flinch at his actions due to how sudden and unpredictable kaji has become. you place your hands on his chest involuntarily, as your eyes lock on his pair of gray eyes as well. “w-what is it…?”

kaji doesn’t crack a smile, but instead, pouts. his index finger points towards the skin of his right cheek. you watch him tilt his head, as if showing the skin to you, and the words he uttered were something you had not even expect to hear in a thousand years. “k-kiss.”

you blink at him, as you could see the tips of his ears reddening from what he asked. he just asked… for a kiss? kaji ren? the boy who had always told you that you were insufferable was asking for a kiss?

“w-what?”

kaji’s face fumes into a shade of red, “n-nothing! never mind what i said, c’mere! as f-far as i remember, some of the b-boxes were underneath my bed! i’ll search for—“ kaji blabbers and stammers all over his words. am i going crazy? he, himself, could not believe he had just asked that from you.

kaji gasps when you clasp his entire face with your hands and peck the location of his cheeks that he was pointing earlier. he grabs your wrists as you continue littering his face with soft kisses. kaji feels like his world is spinning, his mind cloudy, his heart thumping so fast and his face burning red already.

you give him a final peck on his lips and smirk, “awww… are you perhaps kiss-deprived, ren? but don’t worry, i’ll kiss you anytime you want!” you beam at him, after seeing his flushed face. kaji doesn’t respond, which makes you somewhat worried.

“ren?”

his eyes stare at his room’s wooden floor, shoulders moving up and down. his bangs cover his eyes, leading you to simply call out his name multiple times until he slowly brings his gaze upwards to yours. you nervously chuckle at him, trying to break the silence between you both as he bores his eyes into you. “ren…?” you smile cautiously.

“you’re insufferable.” and, he closes the distance between your faces, kissing you harshly. it’s certainly not comparable to this kisses you’ve given him earlier, soft and teasing — his kiss is hungry, as if he’s deprived of water and your mouth is the sole salvation. it’s filthy and rough, but you fondle his lips with equal greediness.

you place your hands on both of his shoulders, balancing yourself at the height of the moment between you and kaji. you feel his tongue grazing your lips. he wraps his arms around your waist, one hand casually roaming your body until his fingers tangle with your hair and push you closer to him. it feels like forever — kissing him in a room that just encapsulates who he is: his scent, his mark, his hands that hold you tightly but not too tight, his eyes that only look at you. the entirety of kaji ren being yours and you being his feels like forever to you.

“meow!”

the both of you stop, heads snapping at the cat already purring at your entangled limbs. it’s almost involuntary how both you and kaji stare at each other and laugh as you wrap your arms around his neck. you feel his forehead press against yours as he whispers, “‘m sorry.”

“for what?” you lean your forehead against his. “nothing, just felt like it. since, you know, accidentally raised my voice on you earlier.” kaji smiles as his head finally drops to the intersection of your neck and shoulders, planting soft kisses on the bare skin.

you ruffle his head, “‘s fine. i know you didn’t mean it.” he hums in response to you.

“but for now, you have to help me make this cat’s home! i’ve given you lotsa kisses earlier, so i expect more help from you!” you poke his cheek, trying to force him to look at you. you wriggle away from his embrace, and kaji finally whispers in response to your statement.

“‘m willing to do anything for your kisses. i’m glad to do more even.” kaji smirks at you, causing you to smack his shoulder and ultimately breaking the hug. you’re glad that he’s finally trying to open up more, to talk more. you watch as he kneel towards the cat and let the cat sniff his fingers — a small introduction between kaji and the cat.

you want to savor the moment, and sure you do, because being with kaji ren feels like forever.

[xi-vz]

Girl hear me out: OG!SQH and Airplane as Twins. Mobei-jun has two hands. What's not clicking. (Btw love your content)

Thanks for the kudos 🖤, and remember: You asked for this.

•

•

•

The thing is that Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky would have rather have stayed dead. Honestly, what was with this reincarnation-transmigration bullshit? No. If a person dies, they should stay that way. Instead, he was born the youngest of nine (NINE!) children and a twin at that. To none other than his precious scum villain, Shang Qinghua.(He reminds himself it could be worse; he could be Shen Jiu.)

Shang Houhua and Shang Feiji (their parents really hated them when they decided on names.) The two were nearly identical except for their eyes. A-Hua’s eyes were a darker honey color. A-Ji’s were a bright apple green. Although no one really paid that much attention to that small detail, so the two often were confused for one another.

This is how A-Ji finds himself on a specific mission in place of his brother. They swapped places because Airplane had an exam he was wholly unprepared for, and A-Hua hadn’t wanted to go on a particular mission. It was easy, really. And maybe that was the issue.

The mission was easy: a handful of An Ding disciples bringing back scrolls, books, papers, and inks. Simple and straight to the point.

It was when the System, something that A-Ji mostly ignored, made a happy announcement that a new character would be introduced that made him pause during the mission. A new character? It was confusing until a shard of ice impaled the disciple beside him. Then all hell broke loose.

A-Ji couldn’t tell you what happened, except he wound up with Mobei Jun. He, Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky, took his brother's place as the scum spy! He panicked, cried, and felt like everyone knew he was now a traitor. And the fact that Mobei Jun was able to get onto An Ding without sounding off the wards! He knew his king was amazing, but he was totally OP! And he wasn’t even an adult yet!

The thing was that A-Ji was terrible at keeping secrets from his twin. They had some weird connection, so A-Hua knew something was up!

You’d think those would be the biggest problems. No, the biggest issue was that Mobei Jun opened a shadow portal into his room one night when A-Hua was there with him.

“Um,” A-Ji froze in his seat at his desk.

A-Hua stared from the bed.

“Two of you,” Mobei Jun blinked, bright blue eyes narrowing from one to the other.

It was the look on his face that threw A-Ji off. Was his king blushing? Over the fact that they were twins?

"Hello there," A-Hua murmured, admiringly glancing at the demon prince. Which was fair, because Mobei Jun was hot. But also, no. No way! Airplane made that man for himself, thank you very much.

Mobei Jun kept his gaze on the two, interest slowly forming on his face.

Oh, absolutely not! PIDW had its share of kinky and shameful elements, but there was never any Lannister-style twincest nonsense in the plot or initial drafts. (And the readers had pushed for Binghe to get down with twins and triplets in threesomes and foursomes, but there were some things that even Airplane couldn’t bring himself to write for money.)

“No!” Airplane shouted, grabbing his brother by the elbow and forcing him out of the room. “Don’t be a narc about this either.”

“As usual, you sound crazy,” A-Hua commented—he often said that when he didn’t understand what A-Ji said— as he was shoved out into the hallway. “We’ll talk about this later.”

A-Ji could finally breathe once the door shut behind him, only to find Mobei Jun gazing at him and then sadly at the door.

What the fuck?

[morinuu]

LISTWN TO ME I JUST READ YOUR TAMAKI ANGST AND YOU KNOW WHAT WOULD BE SO FICKING GOOD??

A she falls but he falls harder

Reader finally gets over it and stops coming, moving on and focusing on herself, and he notices and starts realizing how he took her for granted

And then its him that's loosing his mind and shit like that. Dude. Dude. I'm loosing my MIND you write so well

first of all ty for the compliment >< so glad u liked it im blushing and giggling!! secondly im not sure abt the reader completely abandoning tamaki's side (i love being delulu), but i do have smth else in mind that's kinda similiar n i hope its satisfactory :3 i changed only a minor part from the og :P i wanna make this a small series..... maybe like 3-4 parts.. anw this is pt 1

☀︎｜tamaki x female reader. almost 4k words. continuation of this. ure sick, yamada hinata & aoko r just some ppl i made up for the plot, tamaki's pretty stupid n emotionally unintelligent, lots of feelings and background information, y'all r childhood friends, there's like one 4th wall break but i thought it was kinda funny so i kept it

you weren't a fan of february.

allergy season was your absolute worst, the wheezing and coughing sucking the life out of you as you struggled to change out of your clothes to get the day started. you didn't sleep much, interrupted constantly by your sore throat aching and squeezing.

sure, it's just hay fever to everyone else, but for a young woman who carried around an inhaler, it's hell. well, almost hell.

what was truly hellish wasn't the fatigue or the sneezing, but your mum dragging you back in the house and forbidding you from going to school until you're well enough to study again. how were you supposed to keep up with chemistry class if you skip?

not that your parents cared for your grades; they knew you could just enter whatever field you wanted with the connections your family held, but it felt nice to be awarded for working hard.

after your personal maid let out a small "pardon me, miss" and carried you back to bed, you realised that the feeling your soft quilt hugging your cold limbs would never be beaten by the jacket you desperately clung on to warm yourself in p.e - which just so happened to be your first period that day and you were dreading it.

"i'll be making you some tea, miss. would you like to breakfast now?" your maid's quiet voice addressed you, hoping you'd just sleep the illness off as you usually did so she could rest too.

to be fair, you weren't a very easy master to please, so could you blame her?

"i'll breakfast la-" a cough and some wheezing "-i'll breakfast later, bring some english breakfast with a slice of lemon." you said nothing else, instead focusing on calming your throat that seemed to intensify in soreness. "a pastille too."

"understood my lady, i'll be right back." she bowed and excused herself from your room, ignoring your groans of annoyance as you buried your face into the pillow.

"damn it." you muttered and extended your hand to grab your phone from your bedside table. unlocking it with the passcode (because you weren't in the mood to lift your head and let your phone scan your face) you squinted as the light mode of a social media app hit your eyes harshly, forcing you to use muscle memory to lower the brightness to its minimum.

you scrolled through, liking your friends' private posts and decided to message one of them.

yn.spam: gm dude, i cant come to school today cus im sick. can u do me a favour n tell aoko to give me her notes? she never looks at her messages.

with your phone back on the table to wait for a response, you lied back comfortably and closed your eyes, because as much as you wanted to watch something on netflix or play a video game, you didn't want to make things worse for yourself.

you grew impatient for the cup of tea your maid was brewing, rotating between wheezing, checking your phone and staring at the ceiling. it seemed like the seconds weren't passing by at all.

soon enough, your maid comes back with some fancy tray carrying a kettle, your favourite mug (the one your daddy drank from when you were a little girl before your parents divorced), a tiny plate with some lemon slices and a small box of pastilles as throat medicine.

you didn't thank the woman when she helped you sit up, nor when she stayed by your side to make sure you didn't choke between coughs and burnt yourself with the hot liquid. just as you took your first sip, your phone lit up to show your friend's response.

thatguyhinata: Ayooo gppd morning. Sry to hear tht. Sure if I see her I'll telm her.

the irises in your eyes rolled upwards at the boy's typos that irked you every time, completely ignoring how he didn't wish for your recovery.

yn.spam: thanks yamada

you never used any of your circle's first names, which your mum always found weird.

'you sure these are your friends, darling?' she would ask often, and your response would always be the same:

'yeah mum. leave me be.'

only tamaki had ever felt close enough to be called by his first name.

after swallowing your medicine, you dismissed the older woman standing over you and pulled your quilt over your quivering form again.

"gods, please let this be over soon."

...

well.

...turns out, you gotta be much more specific with what you ask of gods, because they might not have the same understanding of the word 'soon'.

here you are, three days later, with your allergy having been combined with a virus that'd been going around, intensifying your asthma symptoms and raising a high fever, making your mother and doctor ban you from walking into ouran.

halfway throughout the day, you realise what had been completely slipping your mind while your lungs were occupied inhaling abnormally.

"i have an appointment today!" you exclaimed with wide eyes, raising from the bed like lazarus from his grave.

"...?" the new maid next to you didn't say anything, she was clearly concerned. after some seconds of you overthinking something, she spoke up. "you have no other doctor's appointment today, my lady. he just left 10 minutes ago."

you shook your head quickly, ignoring the dizziness brought by your fever "bring me my phone," the girl was puzzled "now!"

bowing a quick apology, she rushed to your desk and handed you your phone with both hands, not daring to look up. you disliked new maids; they were inexperienced and annoying, but scolding her would have to wait.

"damn it, damn it, damn it!" you murmured under your breath and tapped furiously on your phone, trying to find where the hell you'd written kyouya's business e-mail address.

you had it saved as every other client of the host club had, but you had never actually used it, not once.

you never missed an appointment, and always booked the next one tete-a-tete with the black-haired manager. if you became a no-show without prior notice, wouldn't that look bad? would it annoy kyouya and he wouldn't accept you in the club again?

well no, but you had the habit of overthinki-

'would it annoy tamaki?'

you groaned and murmured to yourself - had you deleted it? maybe it was in your notes app and you erased it? was it on your old phone from a month ago?

"find an e-mail for me." you ordered the maid who looked up at you perplexed, but carried out the order nonetheless.

the girl was embarrassed when she found out her master was asking for a host's email, wanting the earth to swallow her when she dialed the ouran academy's number. 'the stuff i do for money..' she thought and prayed her family never found out.

it wasn't a long process to retrieve the address, but what was, was the rant hitting the maid's ears when your overthinking about what to write left your mouth at incredible speeds.

"should i say i'm sick? but he already knows that- he's in my class! maybe tell him to give my time to another girl? no wait, he would do that anyway... or after i apologise, i'll say that, like, something came up- but that's not believable enough... ugh!" you buried your face in your pillow and, unbeknownst to you, your new maid's eye was twitching in annoyance.

she understood now why your personal maid took the week off just when you got sick - not that she understood how and why your mum allowed it though.

(it's because you can be insufferable and she gets it.)

"my lady, may i help?" the girl let out, clearing her throat when you lifted your head from the pillow. "i can write the e-mail myself, please focus on resting."

after some convincing, you gave in.

and so 10 minutes later, back at ouran, kyouya's phone let out a ting! with your full name on the notification. he'd already guessed you wouldn't show up to your appointment considering you hadn't come to school in three days, and already had someone to fill your place but left it for the last moment in case you did show up.

why? well you were ln yn, and it was painfully obvious you were smitten with his best friend, though he could say it was a bit different from the rest of the clientele.

probably due to the fact that you'd known tamaki for much longer than kyouya had. and yet tamaki didn't seem to have the same fascination with you.

he remembers when he first met you, when he'd heard that you were spoiled rotten and weren't even planning to enroll in ouran until tamaki did. you simply transferred to be with the boy.

literally everyone knew of ln yn's almost freakish obsession with suoh tamaki, except for the victim himself.

so imagine his surprise at the strictly professional e-mail he'd received from you, where not a single mention of your host was included. weird.

after glancing at the french boy in the seat next to him eating his bowl of some-sort-of-commoner-convenience-store lunch, kyouya quickly typed a response and informed the next girl in line that a spot was open 'for tamaki's hosting services at 15:35'.

"one of your appointments cancelled due to a personal issue. we'll have someone else fill it." kyouya told tamaki, just as stated in the e-mail, even though it was pretty clear you were sick, and he couldn't figure out why you'd lie.

"hm? oh, okay!" the brunet smiled and went back to devouring his meal, not thinking much of kyouya's words.

kyouya pondered if he should tell him the client was his loyal friend yn, who would never skip out on seeing tamaki, but he stopped himself, curious as to how it would all play out.

eh, if the twins could have fun, so could he.

"oh! haruhii! daddy's here!"

the hours passed so slow you were almost convinced time was frozen when you weren't glancing at the clock on your laptop.

the drama you'd been watching started to lose its interest after presenting the third plot twist in a row, annoying you with all the plot holes it left gaping.

sipping on your green tea (you'd been drinking tamaki's recommendation, pomegranate, only to throw all of it in the trash when you heard he gave the same advice to haruhi), you paused the show and sighed in absolute, tyrannical boredom.

by now you'd normally have finished your classes and walked to music room #3, your favourite among them all.

you'd be welcomed by a host and walked to a sofa to wait for your appointment, ignoring any other girl in the waiting area trying to pick a conversation with the middle child of the ln family.

and soon enough you'd be approached by your one and only taking your hand in his and kissing it to greet you, with his blue eyes staring up at you innocently like a man in love; a look he gave to any woman nowadays, it was second nature to him.

you got lost in them so often, he sometimes dared to ask you if you didn't enjoy his company and that's why you spaced out so much.

preposterous.

you? disliking tamaki? how could he think that after all these years you spent playing together, with you transferring to his school for his sake, swallowing your pride and becoming the client of a host for him?

truly an absurd notion.

currently, however, you weren't in the host club. you were just a girl with a bunch of germs crawling everywhere around her room, unable to go out and see the man of her dreams kiss her cheek and tell her to 'get well soon'.

speaking of, your mum grew increasingly concerned when she noticed the lack of communication between you and tamaki. you were always attached to his hip like some sort of koala, and the fact that you hadn't reached out to him to inform him of your illness personally so he could visit you made her worry.

but it was only natural that you'd suspect you were being an annoyance to tamaki once you began to notice his eyes shift from you to the newest host a couple of months prior. he'd been a petit brunet boy. a first year who was friendly and of lowly origin. you didn't think much of it.

at least not until the day hikaru asked if you could fetch something he forgot in the back room, completely ignorant to the fact that haruhi had come to the club early that day to ask for another uniform because she'd been accidentally thrown water at by two classmates of hers being stupid.

so when you opened the curtain and saw a small-sized girl with only her panties on desperately trying to hide herself from you, it didn't take more than a couple of seconds to put two and two together.

tamaki wasn't fascinated by the commoner errand 'boy' turnt host.

he wanted her.

you closed the curtain, giving the girl her privacy back and muttering an curt apology, "sorry." before deciding that hikaru would have to get his things himself.

neither haruhi nor you spoke about it again, and she never snitched to the host club about your discovery of her sex.

you liked to pretend it never happened, and that it never changed anything. but just like with tamaki, pretending doesn't go anywhere. the hints were there. his furiously blushed face when he stared at her, his protection of her when the twins teased her, his demands for kyouya to do things for haruhi because she'd like it, not even because she'd asked - well, the stage of denial didn't last long.

shortly after came anger. pure, unexplainable rage and envy. the fourth of the deadly sins was soon rushing through your veins like a drug you couldn't get clean from. 'why her?' you would ask in your rampages.

you couldn't figure it out, and you couldn't ask anyone either, because as infuriated as you were, hurting haruhi by revealing her identity wasn't on your to-do list.

not because you were a good person, god no.

rather, if tamaki knew you hurt his precious daughter - you barfed - like that, who knows if you'd see him again?

and so came the bargaining stage, with your rage never leaving your blood stream, of course. being petty was always one of your main personality traits, one that tamaki would often point out.

what did fujioka haruhi have that ln yn didn't?

'nothing.' you muttered to yourself.

nothing.

nothing?

could you be absolutely sure?

you didn't see her much outside of the club, and there were a couple of times you'd heard the hosts hung out together.

maybe they had a moment? or two, three?

perhaps it was high time you stopped bothering him. perhaps then he'd realise you were the one.

that's why your texts to him had much lessened, coming to a complete stop after roughly two months of your self-doubt and insecurities getting the best of you. so did your occasional visits to his house for studying. you'd even stopped wearing the perfume he got you as a birthday present last year, even though you couldn't find another scent that fit your tastes the same way.

despite your attempts at catching his attention, the bubbling fury in your chest rose once again when you realised that maybe tamaki didn't care about you at all.

he texted you as much as you texted him, he hung out with you only when you asked, and when he came closer to you and noticed the change in your scent, he went: "different perfume, princess?"

and while normally you'd be ecstatic at him noticing, your happiness was immediately destroyed when "the other one was a little old fashioned, good thing you moved to something more fresh."

why couldn't he say what he would have said had he been in an otome game, something among the lines of: 'did you wish to match mine?' or something cheesy like that? ...was your scent not to his tastes?

'did he forget his skills from hosting or what?' you whined.

consequently, now that you were sitting around doing nothing to reach out to tamaki or any of your 'friends', your mum couldn't help but take her phone in her hands to call her friend hitachiin yuzuha.

back in the pink room that is the host club, today's rendezvouses seemed to be going by awfully quickly for tamaki.

in the couple of minutes of break he had between the end of this rendezvous and next the one to come, he quickly found his phone from his back pocket and went over his schedule sent by kyouya.

your name had been crossed out and replaced with another one he recognised, another regular guest of his. he raised his eyebrow at that.

he lifted his head and looked for the shadow king.

"hey, kyouya?"

"hm?" kyouya didn't bother to look up from his laptop, furiously typing god-knows-what.

"why's yn's time gone?" he asked innocently in a curious voice that had you heard, you'd be swooning over.

"i told you, she cancelled due to personal business," his answer was straight-forward "although it's probably because she's ill."

ah, that makes sense, you were the one that cancelled.

wait, huh?

"what do you mean she's ill?" his eyebrows furrow a bit and he cocks his head to the side like a cute dog who doesn't understand anything its owner says.

"what do you mean, 'what do i mean'? she's been absent since monday because she's not feeling well, and she won't come today either. pretty simple." kyouya finally looked up at tamaki with a strange expression on his face. "has she not told you?"

tamaki shook his head a bit, "uhm.. no, not really." and tapped his phone again to check his messages on multiple social media apps to make sure he wasn't missing anything. his emails were empty too, only some spam from a newsletter page that he never bothered to cancel his subscription from.

"how do you know?" he questioned kyouya, but before he could answer, "no wait, don't answer that, you creep. of course you know." he sighed.

after some seconds of quiet thinking, "why didn't you tell me?" tamaki continued his questioning.

"everyone already knows, my lord." an awfully familiar voice butt in making the french boy turn his head around, resting his hand on his waist.

the voice belonged to kaoru, who had his arm wrapped around his twin's shoulders. seems like they also just finished with an appointment.

"what does that mean? who's 'everyone' and why am i not included?" tamaki crossed his arms, feeling kind of left out.

"that guy hayato or whatever who hangs out with yn and her friends was telling someone and we overheard." hikaru shrugged in unison with his doppelganger.

honey's soft voice entered the chat. "you mean hinata-kun? yn-chan's friend? yeah, he told me when i asked where yn-chan is because i thought she forgot to bring the candy she promised." he quickly grabbed a piece of cake from the fridge near where kyouya had been sitting and left the room swiftly.

huh, how convenient for him to enter for the plot.

"and why's it that you two evil bastards didn't bother to tell me?" tamaki exclaimed in disbelief, pointing a finger at the both of them. how could they? his precious childhood friend was sick at home and he didn't know?!

"sorry milord-" kaoru announced with his shoulders still raised, "-but you're always talking to yn-" hikaru joined, "-how were we supposed to know you're not asking her about her well-being?" they delivered the finishing blow together.

what were these lame jerks insinuating? 'not asking about her well-being'? what did they know? just as he went to respond with his usual barking, he stopped himself to instead text you on his own for the first time in a while. not that he noticed.

the twins looked at their king with a confused and weirded-out expression on both their faces, before glancing at each other and shrugging again, already disinterested. kyouya had long gone back to his work and so the twins walked to an empty sofa in an almost isolated area of the club, lying on top of one another to give a nice view to whichever client was into it.

about six minutes of pure silence passed between the two before kaoru's phone buzzed; a text from his mum.

the twins read the text simultaneously, with hikaru raising an eyebrow at its contents. they looked back at the slender boy texting you on his phone at the other end of the club, confused about his behaviour.

"seriously...?" hikaru quietly asked kaoru, referring to the text, only to be met with the other's puzzled expression.

as for the half-and-half boy, his fingers were anxiously tapping kyouya's table and awaiting your response to his message.

tamakiii ♥♥♥♥: Hey darling! Is everything alright? I heard you didn't come to school because you're sick. I thought you just didn't feel like coming. Why didn't you tell me?

he didn't know you let out a deep sigh at his text, even if it was three days late. it gave you hope - false hope. that he'd started to pay attention to you again. maybe being distant worked-

tamakiii ♥♥♥♥: want me to come over?

the question felt natural to him, you always visited his home but seldom did he ever visit yours. since you were sick, it made sense that you wouldn't come over this time.

yn>.&lt; : arent u busy rn tho lol

your name on his phone had obviously been put there by you, his choice of emoji had been party hat for some reason.

"be serious, what does that even mean, tamaki?" you'd asked him one day during a break from your studying in his room.

"you don't like it..?" he pouted like usual and you rolled your eyes.

"here. that's better." you handed him his phone back with a new 'yn >.<' as your contact name.

tamakiii ♥♥♥♥: I can just come after club activities.

wait, he was actually coming? after two months of your only contact being through your rendezvous? it worked?! it actually worked?!

you thought of how to answer him.

at your lack of fast response, tamaki thought of ways to help you feel better through your illness.

'aha! eureka!' tamaki's head echoed.

tamakiii ♥♥♥♥: I'll bring some commoner snacks we can enjoy too! Commoners have incredible food to help alleviate illness!

tamakiii ♥♥♥♥: What are you even sick with, anyway?

of course.

commoner food, of course.

haruhi's food.

yn>.&lt; : lol no its fine i dont want u to get sick. ill just c u at sxhool yn>.&lt; : school* yn>.< : doc said its just a cold but yk w my asthma n shit

tamaki was thoroughly disappointed with your response, what did you mean 'you didn't want him to get sick'? you'd never cared if you caught his cold.

his heart raced with worry, and he decided he would stop by anyway. knowing his next appointment was approaching, he speed walked over to the newest host.

"haaaaruuhiiiiii!" he waved his hand to her and her two clients, smiling widely with all of them smiling back at him.

"yeah? what is it, senpai?" haruhi looked up at him from her armchair.

"sorry to intrude-" he runs his hair through his locks - an action that you told him the ladies would swoon over, "-but i was wondering, do you have any recommendations for commoner food that sick people can eat?"

"...are you serious?"

[mandos-mind-trick]

Kinktober Day 12 - Somnophilia

Summary: You promised every part of yourself to him, whenever he wants it. 

Pairing: Maul x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, somnophilia, unprotected sex, oral, biting inappropriate use of the Force, implied discussion of consent beforehand, AU where Maul has his lower half because Nightsister magic, takes place some indistinguishable time after Order 66, no aftercare but it's Maul what do you expect 

A/N: And I'm interrupting our regularly scheduled clone content to bring you some of my OG fav today. I'm rather proud of this one, if I do say so myself. I keep telling myself I'm going to write for Maul more often.

MASTERLIST

He’s near silent as he slips into your room. You’re fast asleep, tucked under the expensive silk sheets, completely ignorant to his presence. It’s rather cute, he thinks, how unaware you are. How soundly you slumber despite him slipping through your room like a wraith. 

You don’t even stir when he climbs onto the bed, settling himself next to you. You’re on your side facing him, the sheet pooled around your waist. You’re bare beneath it, almost as if you had been expecting him. Always ready, always so willing to give yourself to him when he wants it. 

His eyes trail your body, the curves and dips illuminated by the dim light coming through the window. He reaches out, his hand ghosting down your side. You stir, but stay asleep, even as his hand slips under the blanket, smoothing over the curve of your hip. He slides the blanket down, revealing the rest of your body to him. 

He eases you onto your back and you let out a quiet sigh before settling, his hands dragging up your legs. He parts your thighs, staring down at your pussy as it’s revealed to him. His hands slide up your warm thighs, pushing them apart as he lowers himself between your legs. He keeps his hands on your legs as he bends down, inhaling the scent of you. It’s one of his favorites, not that he would ever admit it. 

His tongue darts out, dragging through your folds. You let out a quiet sound in your sleep, your legs pressing against his hands for a moment. He keeps them parted so you don’t cut yourself on his horns, his tongue trailing from your hole to your clit, the muskiness of your scent getting stronger. He circles your clit with his tongue, keeping his eyes glued to your face. 

You let out another quiet sound, shifting again. You’re still asleep, he can feel the hold your subconscious has on you. He can only imagine what your dreams have turned to. He knows you dream of him, he knows you wake up in the morning soaked and needy from your lascivious dreams. He listens sometimes as you touch yourself, lets your lust and pleasure wash over him in the Force as you cum with his name on your tongue. You’re entirely unaware of it all, not that you would offer much complaint. 

You did promise yourself to him. 

Every part of yourself. 

He wraps his lips around your clit, suckling at it. You’re wet now, your slick folds pressing against his chin as he works your clit with his mouth. Your breathing has picked up, quiet sounds leaving your lips, yet still you slumber on. He pulls  himself from your clit as you shift, resettling on the bed. He kneels above you, freeing himself from his pants. He’s hard, the scent and taste of you mixed with the thought of your sweet pussy clenching around him sending lust spiraling through his mind. 

Your breath hitches in your throat as he presses inside you, the ridges of his cock catching on your tight walls as he works you open. Your body takes him, even with such little preparation, practically welcoming him inside. He lets out a breathy groan as he seats himself inside you, hips pressed flush against yours. He leans on his elbows above you, eyes watching your peaceful face. 

He begins to rock his hips against yours, thrusting in and out of you. Your lips part in a quiet moan, brow furrowing in your sleep. It’s almost sweet the way your body responds to him so eagerly, so readily. Your back arches as he drags his cock along your walls, the grip of sleep beginning to loosen on your mind. 

He continues to thrust into you as he watches you wake, eyes fluttering open. You stare up at him, a flash of fear passing your face as awareness takes its time coming back to you. Your back arches involuntarily, lips parting in a moan as he picks up the pace, thrusting harder into you. 

Your hands rise to cling to his back, nails digging into his skin. Your eyes roll back, hips lifting to meet his thrusts. You're close already, he can tell by the way you clench tightly around him. 

"Kriff, Maul!" You whine. "'M gonna cum!" 

He watches your face and the way it twists with pleasure as he focuses on your clit, a ghostly pressure brushing over it. He teases you with the Force as he continues to thrust into you, your spasming walls bringing him closer to his own release. 

"Cum for me." He growls, lowering his head to sink his teeth into your shoulder. 

You let out a delicious sounding yelp as his teeth sink into your skin, your pussy spasming around him as you’re thrown into an orgasm. Your body writhes under his, hips jerking as you cum around his cock. He sinks into you with a grown, your body milking his own orgasm hitting him. He spills into you, cock twitching as he coats your walls with his cum. 

You whimper under him, nails leaving marks on his back as you cling to him desperately. He eases the Force away from your clit, your legs shaking around his hips. He pulls free of your pussy with a shift of his hips, feeling satiated and warm after his orgasm. 

He presses a shockingly delicate kiss to the sore spot where his teeth sank into your skin before he rises, tucking himself into his pants. He leaves you there without a word, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm while his cum leaks out of your pussy.

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