#HIWTHI Au

[bitterpoison]

《CW for religious trauma and transphobia 》

(Not much in this part but for the future, if I keep this going)

Came up with this au yesterday and drew some things for it, got some more but I'll post those later (pt.1)

[pinkyhaert]

❤️ HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS ❤️

A welcome Home Au

----

PROLOUGE

-------

"Alright, that should be everything."

The father of the house mused as he finished loading his truck. The mother and little Daughter all were preparing to move out of the big Red house. The little girl however was very reluctant to leave.

"But papa.. I don't wanna move. I don't wanna leave the house. What if it gets lonely since we're Gone..?"

*She asked, gently Gripping onto the little Stuffed Tiger she held with her, it's Golden Ribbon with little bells Jingling as she did so.*

"The house can't feel lonely because it isn't alive Darling."

The father responded as he helped the mother out of the house. The mother however Kindly smiled to her daughter as she gently stroked her hair out of her face with her hand.

" Our Poor Home have gotten Old and tired my Dear. And with a new little brother On the way, we need to have more space after all. But don't worry, Our Home has many memories of good times with us and our neighbors to keep it company for a long time."

She mused as the Little girl nodded to her mother. She didn't want to leave, but she knew she had too.

"Can we all at least say goodbye?"

She asked quietly. The mother gave a soft chuckled and Nodded to her as she glanced to her husband.

"I think we can arrange that. What do you think?"

"Alright- I don't see why not."

The father gave a small defeated laugh as he, The mother, and the daughter all held hands and walked up to the front of the house.

"So long house!"

" Rest well old friend."

"Bye bye Home! I'll miss you!"

They all shouted out their farewells before they all pulled up into the car. The little girl used her Tigers Paw to wave to the House one last time as they drove away to go on with their new lives.

-----

Once the family had driven out of sight, the House itself began to shake and shift, revealing two black dots in the widows for its eyes, and the door for its mouth and nose. It let out a heavy sigh as it lowered itself slightly in the ground.

"It's finally happened... the day my family moved out.. I knew it was coming- as I was the last building on the block to still have people inside.. but it doesn't change the fact it isn't any harder letting them go."

The House sighed as it closed its eyes, a small spirit like version of itself manifesting inside of its main frame. Everything felt so empty inside of it. Without the laughter of the little girl.. or the smell of freshly baked desserts from the mother.. or even the scattered envelopes the father would go through on a daily basis.

" I'm truly going to miss them.. but The Madame was right. With a new Little one ok the way, they needed the extra space.. still. I wish u could've made it work. I could've been the home of 4."

It sighed as it roamed its empty rooms, remembering fondly the display of butterflys I the hallways and the Plays they would all huddle together on the couch to watch.

The persona then entered in the Mother’s former nursery and play room. Many craft supplies and materials were still there, as they couldn't take all of them with them. The house laughed to itself as it remembered the little girl would bring in flowers and decorate his walls to put on little shows with her favorite Plushes and Puppets, each giving them names and personalities. She was very funny and would always put a smile on his face.

But alas. Those times were long since over. Or so it thought.

---

*hiccups..* *booohoo..*

The sound sounds of little cries caught the house's attention. What was that..? Everyone else had already left, so who was crying...? It glanced about before Cautiously approaching the source of the crying. Lifting up a blanket with a soft gust of wind from the windows, the House was surprised to see a little yellow puppet laying on the floor crying. He had remembered watching the mother stitching him together a while back.. but he couldn't recall what she had called him.

"Oh my... they've must've forgotten him and left him behind.."

It mused as the little puppet perked up, with tears in its eyes. It's eyes widened as it saw the spirit looking back at them.

" w-where am i..? W-Who are you.. Where did everybody go.. *boo hoo..* "

The little puppet boy asked and whimpers as he tried to dry his face with his hands, only making his fabric damp. The house was surprised the little puppet could see it, as nobody else could.

Perhaps it was because this puppet was not a living thing.. like it. Ever so gently, the cabinets l draws opened a bit and knocked over a toy bin, as a plastic apple rolled over to the crying puppet.

The puppet stopped its whimpering slightly as it looked down at the bright red toy apple at its feet with a little confusion. He picked it up before he heard the soft voice of the House speak to him as its spirit knelt down in front of him.

"Little puppet, why are you crying?"

The house asked as the little puppet held onto the apple.

"B..beacause.. I'm scared.. and alone.."

The puppet replied, gripping the apple.

"But you aren't alone. I am here. So you dont have to be afraid."

The house replied, tilting it's head slightly and attempting to give a smile, as much as it's features would let it.

"You are..? Why is it so hard to see you..?"

The puppet asked as it reached out to try and touch the spirit, only to have his hand go through it. The house could only Laugh.

" I am all around you. The floor you stand on, the roof over your head, and the walls that keep you safe. That is me."

The house replied as it's doors and windows moved and closed a little bit to make its point.

"Woah.. your all around me.."

The puppet repeated, amazed by the house's ability to be everywhere. The house found the innocence of this little puppet boy endearing. It perked up a little as it asked its next question.

"Do you have a name little puppet?"

The puppet glanced down to his feet and shook his head. The mother had made him, but had forgotten to give him his name. The House gave a thoughtful look to the puppet before nodding to itself.

" Then I shall give you one. From now on, your name will be Wally. What do you think darling?"

The Puppets eyes widened as he slowly repeated the name that this wonderful stranger had given him.

" W..Wally.. D-Darling.. Wally Darling.. Wally Darling! I'm Wally Darling!"

Wally perked up and gave a happy smile as he chanted out his new name in glee. He then looked to the house's spirit and gave a heartfelt laugh.

"Thank you!"

The house only smiled. It seems like it was still needed after all. Wally needed a place to stay since he was on his own. And The house planned on being there to provide that for him. He snapped back into reality. When he saw The little puppet inch closer to him in a shy manner.

?

"I have a name now.. but do you..?"

Wally asked as his big bright eyes looked to the house's spirit. The house stared at the little puppet for a few moments, before replying in a gentle tone.

" I do. You may Call me 'Home.' "

[puppet-apple-hime]

Home is Where the Heart Is

My Husband Alex @theunluckyfox and I have been working on a special Welcome Home fanfiction since Halloween time called “Home is Where the Heart Is” it is an SFW Horror Fantasy Romance story about a woman named Kimberly Henson who goes missing and her boyfriend, Aaron Fusco goes on a journey to find her, with all the answers pointing to the mysterious beautiful world known as Home and its strange colorful residents within the Neighborhood. We plan to post the fanfic here for anyone who is interested! The fanfics inspiration is very much strong into Welcome Home but also the movies Labyrinth, Coraline, and Stranger Things 🥰

[whumblr]

Could you please write anything for Zayne sending Jay gifts at work to make him feel uncomfortable?

I got u

Home is where the hurt is: Part 1

-

Presents

It was hard to ignore… the enormous bouquet of flowers on his desk practically lighting up the room.

Jay approached slowly, giving people the time to remove it, hoping it had just been placed on a random empty desk as he’d been out of the office all morning. But his gut and the sly glances his coworkers kept throwing at him already told him the answer.

“This isn’t for me, right?” he tried when he reached his desk and the flowers were still there. “What, is it my last day or something?”

Nobody said anything, and Terry just leaned over and flicked the card attached to the bouquet with his pen.

Resigned, Jay dropped his bag under his desk and picked the tiny card out.

Thank you for the lovely time yesterday <3

He crushed the card in a fist. He knew it. He fucking knew it was from Zayne the moment he’d walked in. Lovely time, my ass. His back still hurt like hell and he could only walk without stumbling while all drugged up on painkillers. Zayne of course would see it as a lovely date and-- His breath stilled as he realised the implications that rippled from every single flower and he felt the stares of his coworkers.

“Did… did you read the ca—” he started, but when he looked up his coworkers all had the same badly hidden smirk on their face. Yet they still had the gall to shake their head.

Jay sighed. “No, I didn’t have a date last night. This is just a prank.” But of course, no one believed him.

“It’s not a crime to have fun, Jay.”

It should be if someone’s idea of fun was stalking and torture.

-

He awkwardly bustled around the front door, juggling to hold his bag, keys, and the flowers.

“Aw, you shouldn’t have.” Zayne beamed at him from the couch. He rose and took the bouquet from Jay and placed it on the coffee table. “I’m surprised you accepted them and didn’t immediately chuck them in the bin.”

“Actually, I tried to pawn them off to Denise because I can’t bike home holding this anyway, but she scolded me, angry on behalf of my non-existent date, and so I had to take the tube home where everyone, unfortunately, was wildly considerate trying not to crush these.” The flowers combined with his sour expression, elicited glances in the tube that had varied from ‘aw, how nice’ to ‘he’s got something to apologise for at home’. Well, if he had come home without flowers, he probably would have something he was going to be sorry for… best to avoid that.

Jay rummaged through the kitchen in search of a vase. “If you didn’t think I’d accept them, why did you send them?”

“Maybe the real gift was you bumbling about…” Zayne shrugged.

“You weren’t even there to see my reaction!”

“Your reaction just now is more than enough. But if I had to guess, you went all 404, ripped up the card, and came up with some bullshit excuse to deflect.”

Jay 404’ed.

Then he turned and grumbled, “—crumpled up the card…”

Zayne nodded with a smile and threw his hands up. See. “Come on, how often do you as a guy get flowers, hm? It’s nice. And you like plants, so…” He waved to the pots of greenery dotted around the living room.

“You’ve watched too many films,” Jay said. “No one sends flowers to someone’s company.”

“Oh?”

“Personal gifts just get send to someone’s home.”

“What if we’d had a lovely first date but I didn’t know your address and wanted to thank you?” Zayne asked sweetly.

“There wouldn’t be a second date.”

“Okay, so when do people send a gift to a company?”

“When it’s from other companies? When they want to thank them for a project well done? Like, we sometimes get cake or something tasty to celebrate.”

“Huh…”

“Do not!” Jay warned, recognising the contemplation in that single syllable, and pointed a finger in Zayne’s face.

And he did not. Or so Jay thought for at least a couple weeks. And by the time he’d completely forgotten about it, he had other things on his mind. Like Emery coming out as an attempted murderer and the shitshow that followed after he told Dennis everything. Not to mention that trip to hospital.

Another thing he’d completely forgotten about in the wake of these events, was the publication of the interview he did with Emery. Luke reminded him with a slap on the shoulder – which startled the hell out of him – and congratulated him on getting back into business. Jay’s protests on it being a shit article were waved away – “That’s just your burnout talking” – and Jay hate-re-read his own piece, memories of awkward things during the interview suddenly making a lot more sense and turning dark.

The next morning, with Dennis also trying to convince him the article wasn’t even that bad and that he'd mostly salvaged everything, they were interrupted.

“Delivery for Mr Fawcett?” A young man entered the office with a large, flat cardboard box.

“Yes?” Jay said, carefully, raising a hand but just really wanting to duck behind one of the partitions. He signed for delivery and watched as the man carefully shifted the box onto his desk. Jay opened the envelope taped on top first.

To thank you and congratulate you with the publication of the excellent interview. – G. Emery.

He squinted at the name. Not only didn’t it start with Z, the thought of Emery actually sending out presents was… somehow unsettling. He hummed his doubt and passed the card to Dennis. When he opened the box, he found it chockful of little cakes.

“Suspicious…”

Dennis eagerly reached for one of the cakes, but pulled back as a thought hit him. “You think it’s poisoned?” he asked in a hushed voice.

“To finish the job?” Jay muttered back. “No, I don’t think these are from Emery. Can you imagine the guy giving out cake? This reeks of Zayne.”

He snapped a pic of the box and shot a text to Zayne, not mincing words. Are these poisoned?!

No. Was the quick response, followed by a rolling eye emoji. Jay turned the screen to Dennis. Called it.

“Fine, then, take one,” Jay grumbled and Dennis immediately chose a chocolate one. “Guess I’ll hand these out.”

-

“How?!” Jay shouted, incredulous, by way of greeting as soon as he slammed the front door behind him. Because there was no way on earth Zayne had just convinced Emery to send out cake to say sorry for attempted murder.

Zayne grinned, somewhat proud. “Managed to convince his secretary to arrange a little thank you for the journalist that made our boss look good.”

“Does she know her boss wants said journalist dead?”

“He doesn’t need to know about that. Oh.” He sat up when Jay held out a little box to him. “What’s this.”

“Poisoned cake. Saved one for you.”

“Was it good?”

“Well, I didn’t die, so yeah, it was okay. Team appreciated it more than I did.”

“Well then,” Zayne said through a mouthful of cream, closing his eyes in sugary bliss, “You’re welcome.”

-

Tag list: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @hurtmebeautifully @rougenoirofthepurpleterror @susiequaz12 @whump-me-all-night-long @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @im-just-here-for-the-whump @restrainthenmaime @freefallingup13 @whatwasmyprevioususername @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @firewheeesky @redstainedsocks @hold-back-on-the-comfort @whumpawink @break-so-beautifully @approach-me-and-ill-cry @painsandconfusion @afabulousmrtake @wormwriting @soopytime @whumpedydump @pickleking8 @itsmyworld98 @whumpifi @painless-and-colourful

[nowimjustastranger]

I have been binge-reading your tumblr all day, and AHHHH, dude I love the StCMO AU so much holy shit. I cannot get enough of it. I actually read a Rick and Morty fic somewhat similar to this? It only focuses on one perspective, though. High key recommend:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22024960

Also love love loveee your fics! I actually first subscribed to your AO3 back when you were first writing Supernatural fanfiction, and then I found you again when I got into Gravity Falls ❤️. The Supernatural to Gravity Falls pipeline is SO REAL and there are so many similarities between Dean vs Stan and Sam vs Ford that it haunts me. I have so many fic ideas just based on episodes of Supernatural 😂. HIWTHI is actually lightly inspired by s2e20.

Sorry, I'm ranting. I had a few questions related to StCMO:

1. What would StCMO!Ford do about a Stan and Ford stuck in a death time loop together? Somewhat similarly to Deja Vu by interlude (though it doesn't have to be), but if it wasn't resolved? I gotta know how he feels about the crossbow death 😭

2. WWS!FD if Bill is constantly going after Stan through Rico and the cartel and whoever else because Ford wanted to make amends with his brother before the portal was finished? Bill doesn't want the distraction, and all of Stan's enemies are easily manipulated into deals to kill Stan off? (an AU of mine i've been toying with)

3. Does he ever feel a little bit detached after going through so many dimensions of Stans and Fords? I feel like it would be easy to become desensitized to it and forget the original perspective he started with.

Holy shit hi! Lovely to see you in the bottomless hole that is the GF fandom with me lmao. And yeah, lots of parallels with respective sets of brothers! I will absolutely read your fic rec! It looks delicious.

Death Loop

Admittedly, Ford 419"3 would have some trouble getting into the time loop, but he'd find a way if it meant safely breaking it. The hardest part for Ford 419"3 would be seeing Stan die and having to wait for the loop to reset. Lots of bad memories being dredged up. Because not only is he traumatized by his time in Bill's clutches, but the missions that go wrong had also left lingering mental wounds. Ford would have to figure out how to keep Stan and his brother alive long enough for Ford to actually break the time loop, so he'd have his hands full to say the least.

Bill is a Bitch

Ford would be having none of that shit. He'd probably enlist Lee to act as a bodyguard and have Lee deliver Stan to his brother safely while Ford handled the threats at the source (ie: wiping out all the gangs that have a vendetta against Stan). After he finished his task or removing the vast majority of threats against Stan to make it harder for Bill to find a puppet, Ford 419"3 would meet Lee and Stan at his counterpart's shack, showing his counterpart the evidence that he and Lee had collected to prove that Bill was behind the attempts on Stan's life.

Same Shit, Different Day

Ford doesn't become desensitized, per say, but seeing so much bad shit does leave it's mark on him. Instead of becoming numb to it, he had become obsessed with the safety of his loved ones. He's mentally unwell in the sense that he's constantly on alert, no longer able to truly let his guard down. Even with Lee and the niblings, unfortunately. He's more like a feral animal than a man, viciously protecting those that he considers his until death. He has insomnia due to his anxiety and paranoia, only sleeping when his body literally shuts down on him. Lee and Fiddleford are working on coaxing him to sleep a little here and there before that happens, but it's slow-going.

[xxlovendreamsxx]

i wrote like a couple of paragraphs for that hokage!sasuke au so i guess there’s that 🤷

[twirlinginthefade]

What are Rowan's mark's colours and what do they mean? (I just found your story and it is AWESOME)

:D

So, first of all, there are three genres of Marks: Silver, Gold, and Bronze. Silver is for Platonic mates, Gold for Romantic and Bronze for both/neither. Bronze can switch to either Gold or Silver if the situation calls for it, but it also can stay Bronze if need be.

Then, there are embellishments. Each embellishment coincides with the relationship between the two parties.

Example one: Cullen and Rowan. After Cullen declares himself/offers courtship, he solidifies their Mark. It stays Bronze but gains an embellishment of a red fire on Rowan’s skin. On Cullens Mark, however, he gains a sword in the same color. When brought together? It creates the Sword Of Mercy, a symbol of the Chantry for Cullen and also symbolizes Rowan outlook.

On the other hand, Varric, while no wholly rejecting Rowan and his relationship, said that he would prefer them to be strictly Platonic/Silver. Therefore, they gained no embellishments, but the Mark didn’t change due to Rowan still hoping for more.

Finally: Mark Colors:Cassandra: Bronze + RedVarric: Bronze + GreenSolas: Bronze + BlueJosephine: Gold + BlueLeliana: Bronze + PurpleCullen: Bronze + RedSera: Bronze + YellowVivienne: Silver + PurpleBlackwall: Bronze + BlueIron Bull: Bronze -> Silver + OrangeDorian: Silver + PurpleCole: Silver + YellowHeimarr: Gold + GreenMystery Soulmate: Gold + Blue

[gorbo-longstocking]

1, 5, 7

What’s your favorite character(s) to write for?

BLUE OR LORD TBH. theyre both are just straight up the funniest little guys. i love them both a lot and how much fun they are to write has absolutely boosted them both up into my fav au dudes tbhh.

Do you listen to music when writing? 

i have answered this before and i do! i generally swap between playlists or jerma streams every few weeks. i have a bunch of playlists that i jump between, theyre not very good or well picked, but i like their vibes soooo 😼

What story/headcanons do you feel the proudest of? 

predictable but hiwthi for sure. ive never been able to stick with something so long and still have a lot of fun doing it! i used to really love writing, as a kid and kind of a teenager but i was kind of going through it too much to like. actually enjoy it or do anything with it. so its nice to ACTUALLY build skills or whatever for something i like to do. also hc wise i havent been able to stop thinking about thinking about lord and red having toothgaps growing up. lord has the energy of someone who’d have adult braces. /affectionate

[magicmetslogic]

Meta ask game with number 1, 2, 5 and 6!

Thank you for the ask!!! 1) Tell us about your current project(s)  –   what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

Oh boy, there’s a LOT to talk about here. I think I’ve already talked to you about a fair amount of them though actually! Hmmmm, I don’t think we’ve talked about uhhh, my Hospital Au though! That fic I have not made any sort of progress on, other than a ton of concepts and a rough timeline. I don’t even have a name for it yet, but I’m having a ton of fun thinking about all that I can put in it ^^ It’s the Flaven fic I mentioned before! I’m hoping that after I publish a few more of my fics, I can get started on writing that one.

2) Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

That would be HIWTHI. I haven't touched it in a while though, partially for fear of not depicting it as I wish and partially because I’ve been working on my other fics. I was figuring I guess that since they’re shorter, I can work on them first and accumulate a bit more writing experience and skill so that I can be better at writing for the time that I continue to work on HIWTHI.

5) What character that you’re writing do you most identify with?

Probably Raven and Estelle, for a couple of reasons. I’d rather talk about it in a dm or something though since it’s in personal nature.

6) What character do you have the most fun writing?

Probably Raven or Judith! Those two are tons of fun to depict because of just how much they enjoy teasing others. Also, those two tend to use a lot of subtext when they're talking so that makes things super interesting.

Thank you so much for the ask!!! I really want to make some more progress on my writing so that I’ll have more to talk about

[lunarnix-ct]

Captivetale Papy doodles, some HIWTHI cuteness, and some possible sticker doodles. I need to draw more =u= (HIWTHI links below for those who’d like to read) CHERRYBERRY♡ - http://my.w.tt/UiNb/rHrir74zwA - https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12107166/1/Home-Is-Where-The-Heart-Is - http://archiveofourown.org/works/7833805/chapters/17883259 -

[bitterpoison]

《CW for religious trauma and transphobia 》

The continuation of my mini comic for my au!

This is a one off in the distant future!

(if you think Remus's hair style changed, no it didn't/lh) (Pt.2)

[roboticspacecase]

I can't decide! Because, like. -Infinity: the story seems super awesomely interesting but PAIN!? ;n; -HIWTHI: a modern day gets super interesting, plus mermaids? one of my weak points. and really, SMUT. -Needles: vampire au. another of my weak points, and Dips as the first vampire of the two? just- yeahh. and, like, SMUT. -Venom: frankly, your "I'm going to make Bill fuck the snake" made me laugh! And.. perfect mix between angst and not angst? Plus, SMUT. .... I think I'm gonna choose... HIWTHI.

Lol seeing your thought process of choosing made ME laugh xD Your vote for HIWTHI has been counted :D

[carry-on-my-wayward-hobbit]

Also have how finishing drafting 3 and 1/2 chapters of my Russian doll AU rewrite and I’m starting to feel like this maybe the first multi chapter fic I finish?? It’s planned for 11 chapters so I’m almost like 1/3 done

[whumblr]

Interference

Home is where the hurt is: Part 1

-

“Hey! Don’t you dare!”

Zayne rolled his head back in frustration, glaring up at the ceiling with a scowl when he heard Dennis’ angry voice behind him. He stilled, boot hovering over the second step of the stairs, about to make his way up to Jay to blow off some steam.

Unfortunately, this little interference needed some attention first.

A devious but nice little thought flashed through his mind; about making a dash up the stairs and locking himself in with Jay, making him scream in pain and beg for his friend with Dennis trashing outside the door, trying desperately to force it open and demanding for him to stop, to let him in, and finally begging him to let him help his friend.

The image of Dennis sinking desperately to his knees outside the door, banging a weak fist against it in a final attempt as he cried to be let in was one that made Zayne smile for the first time that day.

But he doubted such a ruckus would turn out as well as in his fantasies.

And this little pest was way due for a lesson not to meddle. God, those goddamn reporters were all the same. Just didn’t know when to fucking quit. These two made quite a pair.

“Get away from him. Leave him alone!” Dennis interrupted his daydreaming.

Zayne released his grip on the railing and dropped himself back to the floor, boot landing with a heavy thunk. He turned to Dennis who was bristling and glaring up at him, rage blinding him, completely unaware of the danger. He slowly walked back to the double front doors.

“Fine.”

He slinked off, hands up in casual surrender. But as he walked past Dennis to the door, he sharply turned and grabbed him by the neck.

“If that’s what you want,” he hissed in his ear and started to wrestle him forward.

Dennis however didn’t freeze up and Zayne quickly realised he’d become way too accustomed to Jay’s paralysing fear. Dennis put up a somewhat valiant fight. He immediately snarled and resisted the force on his neck, flaying his arms about and trying to swat Zayne away.

Still, his uncoordinated moves betrayed his panic. And Zayne could improvise.

“Let go! Let go of-aghh!”

A hand clamped over his mouth and Dennis stumbled as Zayne suddenly stopped pushing him forward and he fell back against his chest by the force of his own heels digging into the doormat.

“Shhshh, you wouldn’t want Jay to hear, am I right? Wouldn’t want him to come down here. To get hurt. Again. No, no,” Zayne cooed in his ear. He grinned as his words made the man tense up against him, knowing that he struck that one open, exposed nerve.

Lips pulled into a snarl against the palm of his hand, meaning it was also safe to remove his hand now. He wasn’t going to cause trouble with his friend’s safety on the line.

Zayne squeezed his neck and pushed him forward again, catching his arm as he flailed for balance and twisted it behind his back.

Unlike Zayne’s boots, Dennis’ dress shoes lacked any sort of traction against the tiles and Zayne could almost slide him along the hallway until he started to buck and protest again, nearly slipping in his struggles, but Zayne kept him up mercilessly and marched him down the narrow hallway in big strides.

“Maybe it’s a good thing you’re here. I’m in a piss ass mood and I don’t feel like holding back today.”

He smashed Dennis face-first into the door to the storage room and pinned him to it with his body and the hand on his neck, taking advantage of the few seconds Dennis needed to catch his bearings and he reached into his pocket for the keys.

Why did this stupid door have to get locked anyway, there was nothing in there and it just made things harder trying to get the key in the lock and making an effort to keep this pest in check.

Who turned back to struggling against him now.

In his frustration, Zayne pulled the keys back and scratched them against Dennis’ throat, the blunt little spikes pressed into the skin as a warning.

“Stop moving.”

“Are those keys?!” Dennis sneered.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t still gauge your throat out. Something for Jay to find when he steps out tomorrow morning.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“Oh, since you seem to know me so well… You must’ve already known what would happen when you confronted me in the hallway. Or maybe you didn’t. And you don’t now, either.”

In the few seconds Dennis fell silent to ponder that, Zayne managed to unlock the door and, pretty much using Dennis’ body as a battering ram, forced it open and threw the man inside the room.

Dennis stumbled forward with a yelp and managed to catch himself before he’d fall right over. He turned sharply to face his threat, who was now blocking his exit and closing the door with a slow dramatic flair.

“Good thing I caught you,” Zayne said, tone casual but with a hidden danger lurking behind his low rumbling voice that would put Jay at least on full alert. “I need you to give Jay a message. Since he’s too stubborn to stop his research, maybe you could convince him to stop.”

“What makes you think I’ll—“

“I think a bloodied message carries well,” Zayne calmly said over him and to his glee, Dennis paled at that.

“You can’t threaten me,” Dennis growled.

“Won’t hurt to try—Ah, wait. Won’t hurt me to try. You on the other hand…”

Zayne tipped his head down and leered at Dennis, who now fell back a step. As if he only just realised what was in store for him.

“It’s a win-win situation, for us both. If it doesn’t work, I’ll have had a good night and you got to save your pal from… well, from whatever this is gonna be.” He cracked his knuckles, emphasizing his words, and he stepped closer. “And as a bonus you get to pat yourself on the back for being such a strong lad, how’s that, hm?”

And without waiting for any form of reply, he snapped forward.

Dennis startled, recoiled hard, which Zayne was hoping for to catch him off balance.

Let’s see how that past trauma had healed, if this guy really was as stoic as he puffed himself up to be.

In a firm movement, he clawed for Dennis’ throat. And sure enough, Dennis’ eyes went wide. Getting pinned to a wall with an arm crushing his windpipe had made a lasting impact, Zayne was pleased to see. Dennis brought up his arms to protect his throat, swatting Zayne’s hand away, leaving his lower torso oh so vulnerable to—

A fist blasted into his stomach. A retch followed as he doubled over into Zayne. A rage-filled glare up as the man’s knees already buckled. But he didn’t go down so easily. He caught himself, pushed himself away against Zayne to stumble back, drawing himself back up for another chance.

Good man. Wouldn’t want to make it too easy.

Zayne swiftly followed up, not giving him any chance and to keep pushing him on the defensive.

His ever-present urge to play with his prey was completely overshadowed this time by the urge to break. To show off. To scare off.

So where he would usually stalk up slowly, grin on his face and demanding all focus on him and the impending pain, he now got up close fast leaving Dennis completely overwhelmed. A hand shot out and grabbed him by the front of his shirt. It drew a gasp that quickly turned into a snarl, but Zayne just pulled him in close while at the same time crashing a fist into his face. Dennis’ back hit the wall and he let out a pained cry.

This time Zayne did catch him by the throat, holding him up before he could slide down the wall. Two hands snatched his wrist in alarm.

“Come on, man. You gonna fight back or you just gonna take it? Like Jay?” Zayne purred as he slowly pulled back a hand and deliberately curled it into a fist, finger by finger. Yeah, couldn’t resist.

He laughed softly as Dennis’ expression twisted in indignant rage and the guy fought uselessly against his grip and lunged forward. Nothing a good punch to the face wouldn’t solve.

The hands around his wrist tightened and shook as another punch hit home, again and again, in the face, against his torso, anywhere he could reach until the grip loosened and Dennis slumped down to his knees.

He fell down, one hand still curled around Zayne’s arm in a futile attempt to hang on by his fingernails. He spit out a mouthful of blood. Groaned. Glanced up and tried to crawl away. But he only made it inch by slow inch, his trembling body already pounded into submission and only slowing him down like dead weight, unable to move as he wanted.

Zayne stood over him, looming over the writhing person coughing in the dust, clutching his stomach and at his throat. With Jay he would sink down, coo sweet threats in his ear to coax out some more fear. To see how much pain he was in and adjust accordingly. But he didn’t want to get up close and personal here. This was anything but. This was cold, merciless. And he certainly wouldn’t let up.

The only break Dennis got were a few seconds where Zayne deliberated if he wanted to see him scramble back to his feet. Or not.

He opted for the latter. Those eyes glaring up at him still had a light that hadn’t been snuffed out.

And he knew this guy wasn’t going to beg either way, so taunting was going to be a waste of time.

Best chance was to keep going – he kicked Dennis’ arm out from under him as he tried to push himself up – and maybe, blow after blow, he could beat out a ‘no!’ or ‘stop!’.

He wound up for a kick and went right for the stomach. Kicked the air right out of him, leaving him twitching and grasping on the cold floor. He took the opportunity and stomped on Dennis’ ribcage for good measure, letting his full weight fall down. Then he fell back a step and knelt down.

Before Dennis could even catch his breath, Zayne grabbed a fistful of hair and roughly pulled him up. Grunts of pain rose to a surprised yelp and Dennis couldn’t stifle his cries as he was forced to follow up.

Zayne looked him over and yanked him up a little further, making him hiss and forcing him to look up. Blood speckled his lips, still pooled in his mouth and Zayne was on the alert just in case—

His fist sent Dennis’ head sideways before he had the chance to spit a glob of blood at him, sending it with an anticlimactic soft drooling sputter to the dusty floor.

“None of that now,” he said with a hint of a laugh, feeling lucky he caught it in time. Jay would never even dare to attempt it. And even though he completely had the upper hand here, he still had to be on his toes. Quite a different sensation. New, surprising, but another kind of fun.

He yanked him back up, gently brushed a finger over his reddened cheek, softly pressing against the swelling to steer him back and face front.

Dennis however only winced when the rough leather of Zayne’s sleeve brushed over the graze from where his chin had hit the concrete when he’d fallen.

He stirred, trying to get his arms out from under him to defend himself and the gentle touches fell away. Zayne shifted his hold and tightly gripped his jaw, pressing his fingers into the bruising skin and forcing him to face forward.

“What do you think?” he hissed. “We done?”

Dennis, a groany mess, could only sputter some noises of rage.

“No? Want to turn the other cheek then? Make both sides an even set of black and blue.” He raised a threatening backhand and Dennis flinched hard against his grip.

Zayne let out a soft breathy laugh. “Yeah,” he said and suddenly let go, “you’re done.”

With a grunt, Dennis crumpled to the floor, instantly curling in on himself, pressing his forehead into the crook of his elbow to protect his face.

But the expected blow didn’t come. Instead, he heard heavy footsteps moving away from him.

He glanced up and saw Zayne retreat to the door. But instead of relief he was flooded with dread.

“Wait… wait!” he almost coughed out. “Where are you— leave him alo—“ he winced as he tried to get up and failed, “You said you’d leave him alone!”

His voice broke on the last words.

Zayne didn’t miss it. He stopped and slowly turned around, noticing in delight how for the first time fear reflected in those eyes. Well, Zayne already knew he was more concerned with Jay’s wellbeing than his own…

“Did I?” he teased. “Well, I don’t mind spending a bit more time with you, if that’s what you’re going for.”

Dennis recoiled, backing himself into the wall.

“No?” Zayne purred as he advanced with slow deliberate steps. “Will you deliver my message, then? You wouldn’t even have to say a word, I’d say you should both get it by now.”

Hesitating a second too long, a fist curled into Dennis’ shirt and pulled him up, the act alone a wordless threat.

Dennis brought up his arms, either in surrender or to try to defend himself. “Okay, okay, fine! Fuck it, fine!” He stumbled over the words. Which was as much of a ‘please’ Zayne would get out of him tonight. He shoved him back to the floor.

“I’m not sure it’s clear enough, though,” he regarded the worn-out figure now slumped against the wall, panting hard. He was grazed and some blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth, but it wasn’t exactly the picture Zayne was going for. “I think…”

He pulled up a knee and crashed his boot right into Dennis’ nose.

Dennis fell back to the floor, pain and rage mixing into his screams. “Goddd!” he merely brought out in-between the grunts. Hands cupped over his nose, trying to catch the blood but it was no use. It spilled over his palms, dripped between his fingers onto his shirt and stained his face. It was quite a sight.

“That should do it,” Zayne simply said, and walked back to make his way out. Only a shame that he wouldn’t be able to see Jay’s response, but he could pretty much guess. He turned back at the door and merely sneered over his shoulder:

“Tell Jay you saved his neck tonight. He’ll want to thank you.”

-

Continued here

Tag list: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @hurtmebeautifully @rougenoirofthepurpleterror @snuffhimout @susiequaz12 @coldresolve @whump-me-all-night-long @whumpinggoodtime @starnight-whump @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @im-just-here-for-the-whump @restrainthenmaime @freefallingup13 @whatwasmyprevioususername @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @firewheeesky @redstainedsocks @myst-in-the-mirror @whumpawink @break-so-beautifully @approach-me-and-ill-cry @painsandconfusion @afabulousmrtake @wormwriting @soopytime

[ct-offical-sexyman]

1, 11, and 15 for the fun meta asks!!

Holy crap, this got long.

Tell us about your current project(s) – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

Where to start with this one.

My current projects are Sphinx (my hp au), Home is Where the Heart is (an au of the kingdom hearts games), Unexpected Mischief - Passion Story (one of my original works), and the first part of Force of Nature (Star Wars).

Sphinx is my take on the HP universe. It’s progressing well actually. I’ve managed to write a good amount for it each week. A lot of the stuff I love about it was yet to come like Winnie and Ginny’s relationship and Hela being a badass.

HIWTHI is a Family au of the Kingdom Hearts games. It was created when I replayed the games with one of my best friends. It’s progressing very slowly because unfortunately I just don’t have much motivation for it right now. My favourite thing about is the crazy headcanons my friend, and I have come up with for it.

Unexpected Mischief is a series of fantasy stories that I’ve technically been developing since high school. The first story (named Passion) is about three best friends who get separated from each other and are searching for each other for the whole story. It’s a series of ‘wrong place, wrong time’ with the three MCs getting close to reuniting, but always just missing each other. It’s progressing very slowly because I’m stuck between wanting to write the thing whole out and wanting to release it on the world as soon as possible. I love being able to have my own writing world where I can just say: I’m in charge of this train wreck. I decide how everything works!

Force of Nature is just like Sphinx (my take on the star wars universe). Phantom Menace is currently in the outline stages; I’m gonna start writing it when I’ve finished Philosophers Stone. Honestly, I love my mc Melinoe so much. I love her attitude towards canon characters and her opinions on the force, Jedi and Sith.

What do you envy in other writers?

I envy writers that can write out their whole story, without releasing it chapter by chapter.

Which is harder: titles or summaries (or tags)?

SUMMARIES. Seriously how the heck do you write a good summary.

Fun meta asks for writers

[larafinkenstaedt]

HiwtHi aus Hass entstanden