#I tried to write a horror short story but my brain said no

[the-faceless-bride]

Yandere Oc (Valarie) × Reader ⚰️🕊

This series is A DARK ROMANCE/HORROR and may have content that some readers may find disturbing. Triggering. Or harmful. I strongly suggest that if you don't enjoy Dead Doves content this story isn't for you. @pricegouge had inspired me to get into writing like this again for their AMAZING slasher 141 stuff. So thank you for the inspiration to continue this.

Proluge: "Stranger..."

As most times in your life. You're bad decisions came from your friends and their wild ideas. Your boyfriend Mike, your friends, Jessica and Ashley had all decided that this week would be a party week! No rules, no responsibility, no consequences for anything! It was part time.

And it was draining your social battery...

Before your boyfriend you were a homebody. You liked being alone with your music, your fantasies, and your cat... well...

You tried to stay positive, this trip was for you after all. You'd been so sad when your cat Gizzmo passed away, they thought this would cheer you right up. Apparently, they don't know you very well. Not like you thought anyway...

At the moment you were at a bar/club; drained, a bit tipsy, and a bit jealous at the sight of Mike dancing a bit too close on Jessica. Ashley had tried an chatt a bit, you'd always liked her a little more than Jess. She at least checked up on you here and there. Jessica seemed more interested in just coming around for Mike.

"Not having fun?" - a voice calls to you over the music, turning your head you see a handsome man. Shoulder length hair pulled into a low ponytail, his bands and strands falling to Frame his gorgeous face. His voice sweet and seductive like honey. - "not really, and not looking forward to the future either!" - You yell over the booming base of the speakers, - he raises his brow confused on what you mean, - "my friends found some pond they want to skinny dip in after this! My friend Jessica suggested it! I'm not to thrilled to go swimming in a random pond!" - "ah, I see. Not alone then! That's good, i wouldn't wanna go to 'Dead Hookers Lake' alone either!" - Dead... what? - "w-What does that mean?" - You ask scooting over in your barstool to get closer to the tall man. - "Well, It's kinda a rumor y'know? Just something this small town says! Apparently with all the passers-byes some folks end up missing! But they can never really say for sure. This town is almost a ghost town by now! So really, it's just something scary people say to keep pretty girls from wandering out too late at night!" - oh, great. Just what you need. A story that's gonna fuck with your tipsy brain and make you paranoid all night long. Thanks random stranger at the bar. Just what you needed. - "you staying here long?"- you were about to answer but then that paranoia set in, - "I can't tell you." - "...why?" - "cuz you're a stranger."- that just made the man pause. Just... staring at you...

"BABE!!" Mike yelled across the bar, - "LETS GO!!"- he called with the wave of his hand Ashley and Jessica already making their way out. Giving the stranger a short good bye you lightly jogged to Mike before looking back at the strange man once more...

"Are you sure about this?"

You call to your friends and boyfriend, who had already stripped down and gone into the cool muddy water. "Ugh! Stop being a Debbie Downer!! Get in, it's fine!" Jessica called back, making a face to Mike before giggling.

"MHmm," - you make a noise of uncertainty and slight disgust, "the water looks questionable to me!" You respond, "It's fine Babe just drop the tee-shirt already"- Mike said, a bit uninterested. You knew why, he was busy staring down Jess.

Then again, you couldn't blame him, she was very pretty.

Dusty blonde hair, honey brown eyes, plump lips, a full curvy body with great legs and very nice breasts, hell even you looked.

But now, it made you all the more self conscious.

But taking a deep breath, you slowly dropped your boyfriends shirt you had been holding infront of you to hide yourself for a bit longer before the inevitable.

Dead hookers lake. Huh. If you felt anything touch your leg you were gonna flip.

Getting into the water, after many little pep talks you slowly tip-toed through the water to reach your Boyfriend. Every now and again anxiously looking around the water, looking for nothing and everything. Ripples in the water distorting the shadows of the pond, making shapes of horrors just below the surface. Your eyes looking around picturing what could be right there and you wouldn't even know it till something touched you. A fish, a plant, a body, HELL even a crocodile or something! Finally making it to Mike, you pull and cling on to him like a baby koala. Refusing to let go, and slowly the paranoia and anxiety started to disappear.

"What the hell was that-"

Until it came rushing back, "what's what?" Jessica asked a confused and disgusted Ashley, "I think I just stepped in something?" Ashley reaches under, her lip curling up in a grossed out face before starting to rise whatever it was she stepped on out of the water.

"I think it's like a dead fish or something-"

A Hand.

A Mushy. bloated. Discolored. Rotted. Hand.

And everything begins happening all at once.

Ashley is screaming, dropping the hand back into the water, watching the loose skin stretch and wrinkle as it sinks back to the bottom where it once laid. Jessica is rushing out of the water, a never ending stream of- "oh my God. oh my God. Oh My God." 's leaving her soft pleading lips, Mike rushing to get you all out of the water and to your phones to call the cops.

This can not be happening. It just can't. You feel your chest tighten as it gets harder and harder to take a steady breath. You fight the urge to gag as you too begin to rush out of the water.

"They're gone."

Huh?

"What do you mean "'they're gone.'" Mike?!"

"Our phones! THEYRE ALL GONE!"

Everyone is in full panic mode now. Mike and Ashley looking feverishly on the ground to see if maybe they had fallen, Jessica is now telling herself this isn't read. And you're vision is getting Hazy.

Then a Scream.

an ear bleeding, gut wrenching. Scream.

The scream turns to a gurgle, and Jessica holds her neck as she bleeds freely from the new wound. Eventually falling as the tries to press the hole in her neck. Twitching as the dirt and mud covers her naked body, ruining her perfect skin as the rocks under her leave cuts and scrapes against her backside.

"JESSICA!" Mike screams; a mix of fear, horror and anger.

And within a fraction of a second, Mike and Ashley take off running.

Not bothering to fully get dressed. Ashley tossing on her long sweater and Mike is boxers, you clumsily pulling on Mike's tee-shirt and panties as you try and keep up, "wait! Please! Wait for me! Please don't leave me!" You scream out to them, trying to navigate the way out of the thickly packed wood that over casted the dirt trail. And then as you tumble from a tree root a large hard hand grabs you, pulling you to a strong chest and holding you down.

In a panic, unable to use your hands and the large hand comes close to your nose and mouth with a cloth you toss your head back hoping to hit something to make the attacker let go, a man gasps but ultimately it only seems to hurt you more than him... and in that moment a sweet smell hits you, the soft cloth over your face being the only comfort in that moment.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of them. You just rest for now. Goodnight Darling." The voice slowly fades away.

A/n: here is what "Stranger" looks like, you'll get his name in the first chapter.

And here is voice claim. (Let me know if it doesn't work. It's been weird. And dont mind the capcut 🤓💀)

[zelphin124]

DreamTale Short Story

This is the prize for the honorable mention, @cakesmelons from the SeasonTale Creative Challenge! Apologies it took so long to get to.

My writing commissions are still open! (If you can, please commission. I'm digging into emergency funds right now.)

Enjoy!

___________________________________

"He's not getting any better."

Killer paced outside the big black door, his hands squeezing his skull together. He was panicking, and he didn't know what to do.

Dust came out with a list of things the boss would need, but none of them were obtainable anytime soon.

Horror did his best to slave in the kitchen, but the boss would barely eat anything.

In fact, he had been sick for weeks. Nightmare couldn't get out of his bed without throwing a heap of coughs. The gang had never seen him like this before, and it worried them. It was so bad that all missions and plans were cancelled week after week. Even Killer started to get bored. But all of them were concerned for their boss.

"What are we going to do?" Horror was the most concerned about Nightmare out of the three. He barely ate and slept just like the boss, all to make sure he was okay.

"Nothing we have is working," Dust flipped through his list again. "Everything that we would need is out of stock in the AUs we've been to... we've stolen it all."

"So then we go to more AUs and get more medicine!" Killer hissed, stopping his pacing. "We find more of it, and give it to boss..."

"It's not working!" Horror cried. "He's just gotten worse..."

"We need blue bone fiber," Dust said. "But... no one has it."

"The last time I saw it was when we were fighting the Star Sanses," Killer sighed. "There's no way they would give some to us..."

There was a moment of silence as Nightmare hauled a dozen or so coughs that echoed inside his room. Each cough hurt the trio's souls worse and worse. Although Nightmare could sometimes be cruel and unnerving, he was still their boss... and he took them in and cared for them.

"What if they did give it to us?" Horror proposed.

Dust's face looked like he just got hit by a baseball bat. "The heck you mean, 'what if'? They would never!"

"They might," Horror argued. "This is Nightmare we are talking about... didn't Dream have some sort of attachment to him?"

"Duh, they're brothers," Killer rolled his eyes as his soul flickered. Black tears started to drip down his skull. "But that was like, 500 years ago-"

"But what if he still cared for Nightmare?" Horror continued. "Surely, we could convince him to give us some medicine to help his sick brother."

"And give away the info that he's deathly ill to our enemies? Are you out of your mind?!" Dust hissed, throwing his clipboard on the ground. "Think with your brain for once!"

Killer pulled on Dust's shoulder, holding him back. "Actually..." he put his phalanges to his chin. "We could... manipulate Dream."

"We've tried that before and it didn't work," Horror shook his head. "I say we tell him upfront we need his help."

"You two are insane," Dust pushed Killer away from him. "They. Would. Not. Help. Us."

"Dream tends to be more deceivable when Swap and Ink aren't with him..." Killer smirked. "And he goes to visit that weird stump often."

"Maybe we could catch him there..." Horror added. "And we should be honest with what we need."

"Eh, who needs honesty when we have knives?" Killer smirked, pulling one out of his pocket and twirling it before walking away. "Come on, I'm sure he'll be there tonight!"

Dust's head bellowed with smoke coming out of it before he shouted in frustration, following after Killer. He seemed to be in an argument with himself again, despite him claiming it was his brother.

Horror sighed, hoping beyond hope that this would work. He creaked open the door to his boss' chambers.

Nightmare's eyes were glazed over as he stared at the ceiling. His hands were properly folded across his chest, and he looked unnaturally gray. He didn't have enough energy to sit up when he coughed, which slowly suffocated him. Thankfully, Killer sat him up earlier when he was asleep, but it only helped a little.

Horror mouthed some comforting words to his boss and to himself before he closed the door and bounded after the others. This has to work... his chest ached with anxiety. I don't know what I would do if it doesn't...

* * *

The gentle ray of sunshine looked so dim in the dark clouds. His light wasn't as bright when he stared at the stump in a forgotten land. Oftentimes, he would mutter words unbeknownst to anyone else. Sometimes, onlookers could catch him crying.

Dust had difficulty keeping Killer quiet as they sneaked up to Dream. It took everything in Killer to not giggle from excitement. The grin on his face was one of a girl getting to buy her favorite doll.

Dust hated it.

Horror thought it was amusing.

The more Killer smiled and laughed, the most Dust threatened to push him out in the open, away from the bushes. Horror encouraged Dust not to. They were close to sneaking up on Dream. One wrong move, and their plans might be screwed.

"I'm sorry, mother," The voice of Dream stopped them in their tracks. Expect for Killer's giggling. Apparently, everything was funny to him.

"I am doing my best to protect the balance, but it's hard..." Dream sighed. "People don't have hope anymore, and it weakens me..."

Before Horror could stop Dust, he pushed the laughing Sans out into the open, cursing at him.

Dream spun around, wiping his face as he observed Killer. His eyes widened, and he summoned his bow.

"Woah woah woah," Killer glared at Dust in the bushes before slowly approaching the ray of sunshine. "No need to shoot that, I'm not here to fight."

"Then what are you here to do, Killer?" Dream glared, extending his bow with each step Killer took.

"Hey can we not just talk? Not everything's gotta be about fighting ya know?" Killer bowed playfully, one of his hands gripping a knife behind him. "It's not like I'm going-"

"What do you want, Killer?"

Killer shrugged and sighed like a kid before standing up straight. "I know you still care about your brother."

Dream's grip on his bow loosened. He seemed taken aback. "W-What do you mean?"

"Come on now, I know you still spare him in battles. I see how you fight him; I see how you hold back."

"He's taking too long..." Dust whispered. "We need that blue bone fiber fast... Nightmare skipped his other medicine."

Horror shifted uncomfortably, wondering if he should go up and be honest, unlike Killer's stalling.

"It doesn't matter if I hold back or not," Dream sighed. "I still will stop you!"

"If you wanted to stop us, you would have already," Killer shrugged. "Now, I've come to make an offer. One that... I don't think you can refuse."

"What offer is he talking about?" Dust hissed.

Horror shrugged. He too, had no idea.

Dream glanced over at the bushes where Dust and Horror were hiding. His eyes narrowed in suspicion, but he lowered his bow. "What... offer?"

"Tell you what, Dreamy," Killer took another step up the hill. "How about we end this lil war of ours? Let's make a deal, and neither of us have to suffer."

"What's the catch?" Dream asked.

Horror couldn't wait any longer, Killer was taking too long. He sprang up from the bush and ran over to where Killer was. "We need blue bone fiber!"

Dream took a step back in surprise, before narrowing his eyes at the two. "Let me guess, Dust is with you too?"

"Idiots," Dust hissed as he casually trailed behind.

Dream shook his head and backed away. "Nuh uh, I ain't getting ambushed by you three-"

"We are not here to fight, Dream," Horror sighed. "Nightmare is sick... very sick... it's why you haven't seen us."

"We need the blue bone fiber to heal him, stat." Dust added.

Horror watched the conflicting emotions swirl in the sunshine's eyes. So he does still care, huh.

"That... makes sense," Dream whispered.

"I was getting there, guys!" Killer rolled his eyes. "I was striking a deal!"

"Nightmare wouldn't agree to a deal without his permission!" Dust barked.

"To save his life, he might!"

"That's not-"

"Boys," Dream interrupted them. "Look, I understand the dire of your situation. I can give Nightmare the blue bone fiber that I have... on one condition."

"Anything," Horror answered before the others could speak.

"I will go give him the fiber."

"Ain't no way," Dust shook his head. "Boss would not be happy about that."

Killer laughed. "So, you can kill him with your positivity?"

"I wouldn't kill him," Dream sighed. "I just... wish to see him again. If he's not so busy trying to kill me... maybe he will just hear me out..."

"You can give it to him," Horror answered. "Anything to save his life."

Dream stared at Horror for a long time before he smiled softly. "I'm glad he has you guys. You care about him... You risked coming to me to save him, it shows a lot. Thank you for... taking care of him all this time."

"Oh whatever," Dust sighed. "Can you give him the blue bone fiber already?"

"I will go grab it, and I'll meet you at the castle." Dream replied.

"Well hurry up," Dust hissed as he dragged Killer by the arm. "Your brother doesn't have long."

* * *

"He's in there."

Dream nodded softly before following Horror into Nightmare's room. The sunshine winced as he came in direct contact with negativity. It didn't slow his pace, however. He had a mission to save his brother, regardless if the murder trio liked it or not.

Nightmare's hands shook as Dream got closer. "What... are you... doing here..."

Horror found it intriguing that Dream remained silent as he crushed the blue bone fiber in the bowl. He sat on the edge of the bed and slowly fed it to Nightmare, the negative unable to resist.

"What did you... do..."

"Blue bone fiber," Dream answered his brother. "It will heal you within the next two days or so."

Boss seemed bewildered, and his eyes barely opened as he glanced at Dream. "W... why?"

"I..." Dream paused, wiping his teary eyes again. "I don't want to fight anymore. I miss my brother... I just want to have peace with you..."

Nightmare's breath was shaky as he tried to swallow the remaining fiber. "You... missed me?"

"I've always missed you," Dream sighed. "I never liked fighting you. I just did so you would stop killing people..."

"I..."

"But that doesn't matter right now," Dream continued. "I want you to get better, and I want you to recover and be okay. I care about you..."

Horror watched as Nightmare's weak hand barely touched Dream's.

"... I... care about you... too..."

Dream had to hold in his positive feelings of reassurance and resolution as he grasped Nightmare's hand. "I'll be here for you, brother."

Nightmare coughed again. "Go... now..."

Dream nodded and squeezed his brother's hand one more time before stepping towards the door, Horror following close behind. He couldn't help but notice a small smile on his boss' face before shutting the door. He sighed softly as he glanced at Dream. "Thank you, I don't know how to repay you."

The widest smile covered Dream's face as he brushed his arms and cried happy tears for the first time in a while.

"No, thank you."

[bitethedustfools]

New World, New Scars (pt 2)

I made this on a whim actually so apologies for this half-attempted story. I just wanted to see pathetic Yuu.

A short explanation for those who are confused, think of it as though Grim of the future recalled the past memories that are most memorable or any other way you guys prefered and that's why the scene are short and there's a lot of jumping.

Also, its very vague because Grim focused on the wrong (right?) thing. I might edit or change it though. Maybe.

Most memories focused on Yuu of course because Grim is always stuck with Yuu. Grim is selfish, tsundere and a bit oblivious. Its hard to write it ngl. Probably some wrong grammar too.

Yuu=He/him (edit)

-

Yuu is a very timid person. Grim knew that. Everyone does. He seen how easily his henchman got spooked by a sudden noise or movement.

Grim knew Ace like that part of Yuu, he would never fail to scare him with loud noise or barelling toward Yuu from out of nowhere and so on.

Ace would never get tired of Yuu who held his breath in and stood still like a statue when he approached from behind and grabbed their shoulder, as though Yuu tried so hard to erase his own existence.

Then, a crooked smile will plastered on his henchman's lips and he was just as wary as ever everytime Ace did this. His eyes will started to look for something in Ace's before looking away.

His henchman is a very strange guy with a strange stupid name. He's scared of silly things but he's not scared of ghosts.

-

There's a faint sobbing in one of the rooms on some nights and a familiar voice murmured assuring words.

"It's going to be alright. You're going to be alright."

Grim peeked through the cracks of the door. The ghosts hovered near his henchman whose back is trembling, one that Grim instantly recognized as crying. He knew that form, he seen Yuu done it so many time at night when Yuu thought Grim was asleep.

One of the ghosts pat lightly on his back and Grim unconciously shivered, the ghost had pat him once and all Grim felt was cold. Grim couldn't comprehend why his henchman like those better than Ace and Deuce or Grim himself who is warm and much better.

Yuu still avoided his touch.

-

Despite what everyone believed, Yuu was not really clumsy nor is he stupid and naive. Yuu is quick on his feet, faster reflex and sharp instinct. He's smarter than the ADeuce duo brain cell combined, Grim had to admit that even if Yuu struggle at first.

But those doesn't really stick out too much if the personality is a coward and being too… compliant.

Riddle, the Teapot tyrant who had loosened his controlling behavior and his devotion to rules must have spot something else that Grim is unaware of. He, accompanied by Trey, went to seek out Yuu who went rigid at their presences, a clear indication that Yuu is scared.

Riddle said he's apologizing for insulting his henchman's parents and their lack of education. He added that Yuu must have been in the same situation as him but with a different outcome.

Grim doesn't understands what he means but he understands what Yuu said.

His henchman looked startled as though he didn't expect that and couldn't understand why Riddle apologized. He stuttered, panicking.

"Oh, um, it's okay. It's just that, well, I'm an orphan, that wouldn't matter at all, right? I mean, I got adopted but um, uh, I don't have a parents anymore. I-I understand about the lack of education. I had–tried my best! I really, really am. I'm good at memorizing! I'm getting better. I won't let you do…wn…"

The words died down when Riddle and Trey's face went pale and morphed to horror.

His henchman snapped his mouth shut, a mixture of hurt and fear flittered across Yuu's face for a few seconds as if Yuu had said the wrong thing or maybe it's because of something else.

Yuu looked down, "I'm sorry. It won't happened again. I won't speak unnecessary things anymore, I promise."

Yuu ran before they could say anything and Grim casted a single glance of confusion before he followed Yuu.

-

"What's wrong with you?" Grim demanded, frustated at the silence. Sure it's always silent in this dorm but Grim just got aware of that and he's uncomfortable.

Like an instinct, Yuu replied with no hesitation. "I said too much. I'm sorry."

Yuu snapped his mouth shut and pretended nothing happened.

-

Trey confronted Yuu not long after that, bringing pastries with him like an appease gifts. Cater followed along, all smiles and laidback but both hides their intentions. It must be, after what happened yesterday, there's no way they'll come here for nothing but Grim is nice enough to keep his mouth shut with those treats presented before him.

Yuu seemed to know this. Trey and Cater began to question Yuu and Yuu will answered them short and simple. Too guarded and too composed though Yuu's meek personality still had traces on his expression.

Trey asked if he's okay. Yuu lied.

Cater asked where do he lived. Yuu told him and just like the mirror, no one knows where Yuu lived.

Yuu's bandaged hands had his fingers littered with band aids remained clean from the icing and crumbs while Grim's own paws and mouth are already covered by them. Yuu's eyes are strangely on him but Grim ignored it.

Trey asked with concern, "do you not like sweet things?"

"I'm not picky." Yuu replied.

"Then why havent you eaten them?" questioned Cater next, way too blunt.

It seemed to strike something in Yuu. His lips thinned, face went pale slightly.

"I'm sorry. I'll do it now."

No one missed how the hand tremored when it pick up the smallest slice of cake and how awfully relief Yuu looked like after he took a small bite and waiting for something to happen.

What is Yuu expecting for? It's not like these baked goods would kill him. It was the truth when Grim said Yuu is scared of such silly things.

Grim slowed down his munching when Trey and Cater looked at Yuu in a certain way. They seemed to found something worrying from that however.

-

There's something else that Grim found out about Yuu. There's something else that spook Yuu and that is magic.

He thought it was only his fire but Yuu recoiled harshly when magic is involved, especially when aimed at him. Those are just harmless tricks, Grim still doesn't understand why he is scared of this when he should be in awe.

Grim forced him to do the flying lesson together so his henchman can feel how great it is. It's fun, isn't it? Even if they almost crash to the ground?

He would shoot his flame with this new tricks he learnt. It's bright and brilliant, doesn't it look like a firework? He worked so hard to make it happened.

And what about Ace's wind magic? Or Deuce's ability to summon cauldron out of nowhere? And maybe Cater and Trey who can makes clones and change characteristic of an item respectively?

It makes life easier and fun with magic, isn't it? Grim doesn't understand why Yuu should be scared of it after some Savanaclaw use it on them. It was stupid, Yuu was stupid. More of a crybaby than Riddle ever was even though Riddle bawled only once before them and that's something.

Ace, Deuce and the others won't hurt Yuu. That's not a reason to be scared of them.

-

They both get invited regularly to the Unbirthday party. They both stood out clearly but they were treated nice by the host. Especially Yuu.

Grim complained lots of thing but he does not point out when Riddle lowered his voice and speak softly with a gentle expression or when Trey ate a certain pastry under Yuu's gaze before giving him the same thing or the fact that Cater praised Yuu and suddenly initiating skin contact and taking lots of pictures of them both.

Even Ace's pranks toned down only making harmless fun and Deuce was careful enough not to show his violence side. They acted too careful, whispering at each other.

His henchman fidgeted in the seat for being the center of their attention. Yuu looked uncomfortable. A wary and quizzical look on his face at the bizzare change of behaviour.

His henchman looked completely lost but he didn't said it out loud, merely going along with their play.

-

Then there's a spelldrive tournament that he learnt of from the headmaster. Grim thought that the event was the best thing he had ever heard where he can get to show their magic and impressed the audience and get famous. That's another way to be the Great Grim if he got recruited.

Grim also recalled the headmaster said something weird as well. Words like a "Clue" and "Home" popped up in the conversation and most are mentioned to Yuu whose hopeful expression went dismayed.

Grim can't remember what happened next since he didn't care about that but he recalled the brief looks of confusion aiming at Yuu from Ace and Deuce.

-

There was a bunch of accidents happening after that. People kept tripping down the stairs and then injuring their hands in a kitchen and alchemy class. The headmaster asked for Yuu's help and as usual, Yuu agreed even if his eyebag is more pronounced now.

He saw that Yuu's left hand crossed over his belly to cradled his right side like he's hungry but Grim remembered what happened when Riddle overblotted.

Grim declined the headmaster's needs for their help vehemently, well, until the headmaster said he will give him something he wanted. How could he say no? Grim did say he is very good at negotiating. Helping the headmaster solve this and then get to join the tournament sounds good enough. 

-

Cater had a bunch of infos on everyone and Riddle want to find the culprit that caused Trey to fall down the stairs in his place so they tagged along with their group. Group because Ace and Deuce was there too for whatever reason that is.

Grim was supposed to lead but he didn't like the responsiblity so he gave it to Yuu though Yuu did nothing as well since Cater took over.

Yuu was in the group but at the same time Yuu was not. He was just there, not actively trying to be part of a conversation. In fact, Grim thought that his henchman prefered to be that way where nobody seen him.

This proved his point when the others put their attention on Yuu again and Yuu flinched in return.

-

Everyone knows Yuu doesn't react well with Savanaclaw students after what happened last time.

Yuu tried so hard to blend with the background but Savanaclaw is full of beastman, it's not that hard to single Yuu out.

Grim admitted that his henchman is weak but he was also unexpectedly tough. His henchman is all bruised and battered and he still managed to walk out of it alive. Grim was not worried at all. As a matter of fact, Grim is really upset and frustrated that Yuu still won't stand up for himself.

Grim and the others stood up for Yuu the moment Yuu got mocked openly.

-

Grim thought that he can't let this certain memory wipe away from his head. It had burned into his mind so deeply that he will probably remembered it forever.

They were playing spelldrive and Leona, the one they met in the botanical garden somewhere in the past before Riddle overblot, demanded that Yuu played along with them too.

Yuu agreed as expected and the moment the game started, they ganged up on Yuu, the magicless student. Yuu had to dodge or catch the metallic disk moving in high speed with bare hand.

His palm were red and raw. The fingers are crooked and trembled unwillingly. They began to swell and soon, they won't be able to move their hand lot.

And when Yuu failed to catch, the disk will bash onto his body, knocking air out of their lungs while the Savanaclaw students laughed. Ace and Deuce were full of rage as they tried whatever they can to help Yuu. Cater's smile dropped for the first time at the kneeling Yuu who looked at his swollen hands and the blood dripping from his nose.

His henchman's eyes are glassy but Yuu does not cry.

-

That night however, Grim smelt a stronge scent of salt and the faint sound of tears dropping unto the wooden floor.

A quiet stuttered breath filled in the room that gradually became even and inaudible to the ears.

The tears still kept going.

-

Leona had overblotted. The sand is everywhere. It's on his fur and inside his mouth. His eyes are dry and he is so unbearably thirsty.

Leona's poisonous green eyes is fixed on Yuu once he lose interest with Ruggie, the bastard that stole his sandwhich. Ruggie dropped on the ground with cracks visible on his skin, deprived of moisture. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of the water.

He looked halfway to death and that's what about to happen to Yuu when he get close to him. Yuu who stood still like a fool and face stricken with fear as the hand that possessed unique magic that can turned to dust once in contact, reached out towards him.

A strange thought had passed Grim at that time. His henchman looked like he was prepared. Like he expected it and his choice was to stand still and bear it.

The magic spell the others casted quickly reached Yuu just in time and stopped Leona from his track.

-

The monster died after a while of struggling and Grim gobbled up the black magestone before turning his attention to Yuu.

Yuu's heads bowed down with his battered fingers grabbing the hems of his tattered uniform as Ace's loud voice scolded him again. Deuce and Riddle sported an upset look much like Ace, probably unhappy with what Yuu had shown them before.

"You have a death wish or something!?" Yelled Ace and he shook Yuu like Yuu was an unruly child.

"I'm sorry, I won't do it again I swear. Please forgive me…" Replied Yuu frantically, eyes dilated with fear and borderline crying.

Grim thought that Yuu's behavior is too much. The apologizing–beggings are just exagerating. The three's expression changed to unsettle and a mix of something else in a matter of second so they must have agreed with his thought.

-

Grim forgot how it happened but they were playing spelldrive again since that is what the headmaster promised him and Yuu got knocked out cold from the disk bashing on his head.

He was a bit annoyed that the fun had to put to a stop just because of Yuu though the feelings evaporated because Yuu who was tough enough that they can still walk with a limp and bruises won't show any signs of waking up.

There was chaos as their friends and the ghosts hovered over Yuu's tiny unconcious form, blood streaming down from the head continuously.

Someone carried Yuu. Grim can't remember if it's Ace or if it's Deuce, but all that mattered is that he looked horrified when he carried Yuu.

"Why is he so… thin?" The mumble carried unto the air to his flaming ears.

-

Yuu was still unconcious when Leona joined the infirmary, taking one of the bed to rest in with a grumble underneath his breath. There was also Ruggie and Jack who is surprisingly nice despite his hard exteriors.

And then there's Leona's nephew by the name of Cheka, crashing into the infirmary which only lasted for a few minutes. All of them joked around but their friends doesn't trust those certain Savanaclaw students.

It's why they keep checking up on Yuu as many times as they could. They did not visit at night but Grim was here so there's nothing to be worry about.

Yuu still hasn't wake up yet so Grim took the opportunity to climb on the bed and sleep near the end of the bed.

He used to smell tears every night when he slept, but now, for the first time, the scent is gone, replaced by the scent of disinfectant and faint scent of blood.

It was kinda sad that Yuu have to be like this to stop the tears from flowing.

[innocentlymacabre]

The One Who Follows

Short Horror Story | 08.03.18

Emma,

Yesterday, you asked me to move in with you, but I refused to give any concrete reason. You asked me why, but I simply continued to refuse. Let me explain.

Have you ever had that feeling? The one where you think there's someone watching you? It feels like something prickling your back, tickling it, but not pleasurably. Because I have. And it's not fun. 

I really shouldn't be writing this. He might find out. Might come for me, like He has, the others. But I am. Because soon it won't matter. But someone else should know the truth.

The secret.

I got that feeling first on the highway in the car at night when I was twelve. I looked out the window to see what was causing this strange feeling, what had so easily spiked my interest, to see two eyes, two glistening jewels in the night sky, pupil-less and red as blood.

I told my parents. I screamed and shouted, but all to no acclaim. They said it was just my imagination. That my thoughts ran too wild. That I'm too proactive for my own good. 

Little did they know, little did they know. 

That night, as I lay awake, curled up in my bed, staring out of the window onto the meadows beyond, I saw those eyes again. Those cold, unforgiving eyes. Those eyes that shouldn't have conveyed anything yet said so much. Those eyes that I was ghastly afraid of. They stood out amidst the storm that billowed around them, a violent red between the gravel grey.

I screamed out in fear, my howls echoing through my room, and then through the house. I heard my mother's footsteps coming from down the hall to check on me. And that's when I saw the eyes move. 

What were only eyes at first, became a black, furry face, with a slit for a mouth, and an empty space where its nose should have been. As it moved across my lawn, its feet ruffled the leaves, creating an eerie, unnerving sound.

I screamed even louder. I howled, I wailed, I sobbed. I didn't know what else to do. My body had shut down and refused to move no matter what my brain tried to make it do.

My room door slammed open and my head whipped towards the door. It was my mum!  I tried coaxing myself into thinking everything was fine. Okay, now everything will be fine. Don't worry Tim, nothing's going to happen. Mummy's here.

Little did I know how far from the truth that was.

On the other side of my room, the window flew open, and it came flying in. It didn't hesitate for even a second; it didn't waver. It just went straight for her. Sunk its impossibly large teeth right into her neck and there was nothing I could do. My body was still frozen and a chill had now descended upon the room.

I watched in horror as the straight-line slit turned into a wide, cheek-to-cheek grin. I watched as the life slowly drained from my mother's eyes. As the colour drained from her face, and her once rosy cheeks became pale. 

I still couldn't move.

Then it looked up at me. And the grin spread even wider. Its teeth were dripping with my mother's blood, and it relished it. It relished the fear in my eyes, it relished the fact that I was frozen with fear. And I hated it. I hated it. But I couldn't do anything. 

It proceeded to float towards me. This close to it, I realised it didn't have any legs. It just sort of hovered there. The rustling sound it made when it moved came from its cloak brushing against the ground. It came towards me and grasped my face. It stared into my eyes, my blue-green reflecting in his pure red, then sneered at me and spoke in a thick, raspy voice that I was to come to know all too well,

"Well done. You have done well. And you will continue to do so, or..." The answer to that was obvious.

Then my body decided to work. As it flew out of the room, I lunged to the other side and crouched over my mother's dead body. The tears came, silently at first, but then accompanied by horrible wailing and shouts for my father. He came almost instantly, but he too crippled and fell to his knees at the sight of my mother's body. We stayed like that for what felt like an eternity. I had nightmares of that night every night for two years. Until one night they stopped. And that was even scarier.

It was the night of my next encounter with it. I was fourteen now, and the night was much like that that fateful one two years ago. We had moved houses because Dad said that the house reminded him too much of Mum, but that did little to ease my pain.

Cold memories, memories that I had been long trying to forget, came rushing back to me. They hit me like a tidal wave with full force and without any warning. But this time I was ready. This time I was prepared. Since that night, I kept a knife in the drawer by my bed. Dad didn't know about it, and it was best that he didn't too. He would have never allowed it. But I had it, and that's what mattered. Or so I thought. 

I reached for the knife, and my hand wrapped around nothingness. The knife was gone, and the room was suddenly colder. I whipped my head around, and saw it floating at the foot of my bed, my knife in its hand. As the confusion crept into my eyes, its smile grew. As confusion became shock, and then fright, the smile became a menacing laugh that rippled throughout the house. It cackled louder with each second, revelling in the fear it brought upon me.

My father heard the noise. He came thundering towards my room to try and sort out the commotion. I heard his footsteps coming, and I shouted out in warning, trying to get him to stay out of my room. But it was too late.

My father stepped inside my room and it sprung from his position, dropping the knife to the ground, teeth bared. I tried diving between the two, but it was no use; it moved too fast. It got to my father first. It got to him and sunk its dagger-shaped teeth right into my dad’s neck. The blood gushed from my father's body, squirting all over the room, permanently staining the walls and carpet. 

I tried calling out to it, offering myself instead, but it was no use. It just kept chugging the blood out from my father's neck, draining him of life, like it had my mother. I stared on in horror, unable to look away, fixated upon the horror in front of me. When it was done, the slushing noise stopped. 

And so, the visits continued. It would show up at my window, the weather the same each time, and take someone. Each time I tried harder than before not to scream, to not “call them”, as it once put it. But it was all to no acclaim. Everyone has a fear or two in life - one that would absolutely rock them to their core, no matter how old they are. It is mine. 

I'm twenty now, and I live alone. This time when he comes for me, there will be no one for me to call out for. This time, it will be my turn. This time, my fourteen-year-old self will have his wish granted. It will take me.

But now you know the secret. So, it's okay.

Hope you understand, Matt P.S. Don’t look out the window while on the highway at night.

↝✧↝

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[altraviolet]

hiii :3 hope it is okay that im doing an ask 😰😰

I hope that you’ve been doing well this year! I love your writing so much! I have never sent you an ask before so I dont know how to write it….

This new chapter is so amazing as usual! I love your descriptions and just…everything that you write is so unique to my brain I’m unsure on how to praise it correctly.

These are my favourite bits as of now:

Rodimus grabbed his waist with unexpected speed and tried to pull him sideways. "My... hrgh, you're heavier than you look! My turn on top.”

———————

The disk data pads joke coming full circle, brilliant.

———————

his side, his flame-shaped chest. Soundwave touched Rodimus's face with his fingers. A very slow, soft touch.

Rodimus kissed his fingertips as they passed his lips. They were thin and light. Hidden in the single joint of each was a ring of blue biolights.

"Tell me someday," said Rodimus quietly.

"Affirmative." Soundwave held his fingers against Rodimus's face. Rodimus nuzzled them.

———————

Its absence pressed cold on Soundwave's plating. He leaned forward and said softly, "Preferred: true cheerfulness.

Preferred: Rodimus, happy."

Rodimus looked up at him. His eyes flashed. His field seeped out with surprise and a little pain.

Soundwave wanted nothing more than to wrap his tentacles around Rodimus, feel his sparkpulse, pulse something in return that would bring that smile back. He wondered if Rodimus had agreed to ignite the crystal for the portal only, or if he had another reason, a deeper reason-

———————

But another thing I’ve found interesting throughout the whole fic is obviously drift and rodimus’s ex-situationship i guess you could say. And this bit:

"Rodimus! Did you get-" Drift stopped short before their table. "Oh my god." He looked back and forth between Rodimus and Soundwave. "That aura." Rodimus's face fell.

He yanked his field in. Soundwave held perfectly still, uncertain what was happening. Drift gave Rodimus a faint look of horror. "Don't tell me it was with him.

"Okay. It wasn't with him," said Rodimus, a warning tone in his voice. "And since it wasn't, there's no reason to say anything about it to anyone."

—broke me omg. I was also wondering, since a few of my friends also read this, if there was a previous fic written of the grey/greying years with ratchet, rodimus and drift? I have seen you talk about it and it seems very:

😰🫣🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️😳😭❤️💔🖤❤️‍🩹.

And if there is a previous fic about it i would love to read it, but obviously i am very content with everything you have written!!!

i dont know how to end asks but i am finished! hope you are doing well :DD

Alright it's been about 5 days since Ch 46 was uploaded so hopefully anyone who was trying to avoid spoilers has gotten to read it. I've been saving this ask til now for that reason.

Thanks so much for the kind message :D It's always fun to see which parts people liked.

>The disk data pads joke coming full circle, brilliant. heheHEHE. there are quite a few circles in this fic. glad you enjoyed :D

>if there was a previous fic written of the grey/greying years with ratchet, rodimus and drift? no, no previous fic. the characters are referencing the event, just as they've referenced the Scavengers or TCs, etc etc. Dratchet isn't a pairing I'm into, so I'm unlikely to explore the gray years in a fic. But I'll never say never. Obviously there's interest in this, and I think it could be a very powerful story (although devastating for Rodimus).

Thank you again for the kind ask! Hope you are doing well, too :)

[lexiklecksi]

Monster

Genre: horror, pov: first person, word count: 1419, trigger warnings: monster, suicidal ideation, mental illness, paranoia, car crash

Months ago, I wrote the first few sentences of this horror short story and saved it in my notes. Today, I finished writing it. I hope you like this change of genre and give it a read!

Lights are blinding me. I flinch, holding a hand out against the white light coming closer. An engine breaks through the silence of the night. I squint and suddenly there's a car moving towards me at high speed. I stumble to the side, my heart racing. How did I end up here? In the middle of a crossroad. My fingers ache, so I flex them, slowly gazing down while my sight is still flickering from the headlights. Something warm trickles down my hand, it oozes onto the grass where I'm crouching. What is this? A realization hits me: It's blood, and it's not mine. What happened? My head hurts. The texture of the grass beneath me feels soothing. I want to lie down and never get up again. My back hurts like a thousand needles are pricking it. I roll onto my side and let out a heavy sigh. The air is freezing, my breath turns cold. Everything hurts. Oh please make it stop.

A high-pitched scream pierces the air and I cover my ears, but it only makes it louder. Am I screaming? Something flickers behind my eyes, my vision blurs and then I suddenly see it. The monster. It stared at me with overbearing eyes, saliva dripping down its chin, the hairy forearms and a breath that tastes like death. I thought I escaped, isn't that why I'm on the road? How could it find me? Wherever I go, it always follows me. You can run, but you cannot hide. A deafening scream escapes my sore throat. This time, I know it's me. A cry for help, but no one will hear it. This road is deserted in the middle of the night. Achingly, I try to stand up again. My legs turned into jelly, I fall down on my knees. Everything hurts. Worst of all, my head hurts. My head always hurts, but something feels different. Thoughts are chasing each other by the tail, but I can't grab any of them. My mind remains a blank slate, preparing itself to be eaten by the monster. Despite the brain fog, a thought emerges. A command: Run! Run! Run!

On all fours, I'm crawling towards the street. Pain shoots like an arrow to my knees, but I force my legs to stand up again. The monster is lurking in the dark, chuckling at my desperate attempts to save myself. Am I even worth saving? She told me I was beyond saving. Before it all went wrong, she tried. I'm thankful she tried, even though I don't deserve such kindness. She said, I don't hate you, I just want to save you while there's still something left to save. We compared scars. She said, I'll show you mine if you show me yours first. My body is a haunted house, only a few would dare to visit it. I can cry about the sorry remains of myself another time. Now I need to focus on saving myself. Though, it would be so much easier to give in, to accept my fate of being eaten by a monster. What's there to live for anyway? Since she left, I have been lying in my bed like it's a deathbed. My feet are still running down the road. Where am I going? There is no escape from the monster. It's roaring laughter keeps haunting me, trailing behind the line of blood drops I'm leaving on the road. So much blood. Bloody hell, I am such a loser. When they finally found my mangled body on the road, there will be no way to recognize me. There is no one left to recognize me anyway. And I would spare her the look of my fucked up body. Of my remains they scraped from the road and put on a steel table under a harsh white light. I can picture it so well as if I'm already dead.

Am I dead yet? Is this nightmare ever going to end? I haven't slept in weeks. Once upon a time, the night was my friend. It welcomed me into its warm embrace after an exhausting day. I didn't feel lonely, even though I was alone. I didn't question the natural order of life back then. That was before she came into my life. She taught me that my life was lonely and she was the missing puzzle piece to my happiness. Then she left me in pieces, shattered glass on the ground, drops of blood smeared on the mirror. How can anyone be so cruel to love me? What a sick joke love is. Everyone wants to be loved, right? I'd rather have people hate me, it's less cruel for my broken heart. Tree after tree passes me as I stumble down the road, the monster slowly walking behind me. It is taking its time because it knows it will catch me. Like a cat with a mouse, it's playing with me. Giving me just enough hope to keep on going. Even though we both know how this will end. There is no chance I make it out alive. I won't see another sunrise. How sad that I didn't appreciate the last sunrise.

A distant memory of sunshine on my scarred skin. A warm embrace on a cold day. I'm shivering as it starts raining. The hairy monster shakes the rain off its fur. It smiles at me, like a friend. I know better than to trust that smile. Friends become enemies very quickly. They cared for me, a long time ago. They stopped visiting me in the hospital a few weeks after … the incident. Not only that, but they couldn't understand that I'm still sick. That there is no cure for this kind of disease. It's eating my brain inside out. It's tearing at my flesh and no matter what the doctors tried, they couldn't help. The only visitor that kept coming was the monster. Somehow it managed to get past hospital security. Somehow it was invisible to others. All that doesn't matter. It's real, it's here and it is still going to feast on me. Blinded by the lights. A honk, screeching tires, then the road falls on my face. Darkness engulfs me.

Muffled voices near my ear, a hand checking for a pulse on my slit wrist. “Oh shit, oh shit! Is he okay?” Then a deeper voice shouts: “Darling, call an ambulance! He lost a lot of blood!” Footsteps approaching. “Shit, I didn't see him! Why was he walking on the road at midnight?” Yes indeed, why? The monster! How could I forget about the monster! I open my mouth, but just a gurgling sound escapes. “He's trying to speak! Move closer!”, the deep voice commands. “The monster … look out … can't escape … it will eat us all”, I manage to mumble under my breath. “Honey, what is he talking about? There is no monster, is it? The road is empty!”, she says, confused. Idiots! We are all going to die. More food for the monster, that must make it happy. At least one of us will be happy. I will never be happy again. Sirens in the distance. “Oh, thank God, the ambulance is coming!”, he shouts out, relieved. “Please just leave me to die here”, I whisper into the darkness.

A hand holds mine. “No, stay with me, buddy. You will live. The ambulance is nearly here. Don't give up yet! You will live, I promise!”, he speaks softly yet eagerly in my ear. Tears are running down my face. “I want to die”, I whisper in the direction of the voice. “You won't die tonight”, he reassures me. Then four strong arms lift me up. “His pulse is steady, but he lost a lot of blood. Give me some bandages! And open his vein for me, I need to inject”, one says to the other. The monster smiles his devilish smile and waves me goodbye. “Please don't leave me”, I cry out. “I'm right here”, says someone. “Stay with me”, someone begs me. It sounds just like her … impossible, it can't be her! She was taken by the monster a month ago. “He's got a hospital bracelet!”, someone shouts. “Great, where are we taking him?” Someone grabs my wrist. “It says: Mental Ayslum Georgetown.” A cough of disbelief. “Didn't that close down years ago?” Hands are grabbing my body, rearranging it. “Let's just drive him to the nearest hospital then.” Lights are blinding me, then darkness engulfs me.

Tag list: Never miss a poem or a short story I write! Comment + if you want to be added or - to be removed from my tag list. @matcha-chai @dg-fragments @silversynthesis @heartofmuse @scatteredthoughts2 @rhapsodyinblue80 @alaskaisnothere @stoic-words @september-stardust @wordsforsadpeeps @writingitdown @intothevortex @aubriestar @warriorbookworm @raevenlywrites @alex-a-roman @artsymagee @giantrobocock @theheightofdepression @writing-is-a-martial-art @beautifulimposter25 @callmepippin @a-musingmichelle @kirkshiresloss @rhythmiccreatorofbeuty @eos109 @azriel-alexander-holmes @tini-rat @captain-kraken

[mishkakagehishka]

Hello! I've been wanting to ask you this for some time now... who is that Mika guy you talk about? Is it the anime cartoon thing you post sometimes? Is it a videogame? A comic? Why do you like him so much?

It makes me feel old haha because it is completely out of all the other fandom things I see around and I'm super confused, as if it came from a different universe lol

Oh no i hope it didn't make you feel old in a bad way or anything😭 don't worry about it, i feel like in our countries, ensemble stars isn't really much of a thing yet? Games like that in general. Even if they were, enstars is region-locked and all.

But yeah, Mika is from a mobile rhythm game! It's p much a rhythm game like any other, tho it being a "free" mobile game, it does have gacha mechanics </3 it's fun tho and Mika is my Absolute Fave because he's just so [holds him gently] [proceeds to squeeze him until his eyes pop out]

We had a survey that asked the same question of "why is your fave your fave" and it really is smth i could write essays on, but, to keep it short, he's a Freak and i do love creepy wet freaks in fiction. He has read the Mabinogion in middle English, but doesn't know who Chaplin is. He loves horror movies and is said to draw eroguro. He dumpsterdives in his free time, finding thrown away plushies, mending them and keeping them. All of his pajamas are similarly just clothes he got out of the rubbish and mended (thrifty king tbh) He speaks in a dialect commonly associated with comedians and considered a "hick" dialect and he's often talked about the split between what people expect him to act like (funnyman extrovert) vs how he actually is (shy introvert) and how he ends up looking because of that (aloof/stuck up). He is simply everything to me. And he's so weird... 😭💞 he thought he accidentally killed his roommate and proceeded to almost bury him alive in the dorm courtyard. Has said he sleeps better after looking at "scary pictures"😭

He's just my little meow meow tbh he likes creepy-cute and even he himself has that sort of gap going on, bc he's generally a rather adorable guy, he made a brooch for his best friend bc she wasn't able to buy one she liked, he really wants to prove himself as an artist both in terms of music and designing/sewing and he seems to be growing a spine as of recent (i don't wanna like. Confuse you by bringing up lore, but it's also one of the things that have me going heart eyes, in early stories he was fine being treated like a doll to be puppeteered, but he's "learning to be human" as of recent and has made really good steps, incl yelling at and threatening to throw away his former puppeteer's prized possession + implying he'll beat him up bc he threw away smth of his without asking), but he's also had those moments of "what the hell" like when he threatened to either kill himself or his unitmate's future spouse if he ever gets married, or when he threw a tantrum because said unitmate was paying more attention to a literal 15yo than him.

I think he's neat tbh a combination of his aesthetic being creepy-cute, his unit's aesthetic leaning into steampunk (both of which are so 💞💞 to me), him being a dialect-speaker, and then the fact that he's the "aww he's so cute [gets to know him] oh he's a little bit fucked up" type just really appeals to me. And his hidden intellect, there's a lotta moments where you can just tell that he's Actually Intelligent, but he's the first who'll say stuff like "sorry i dropped my brains somewhere" and call himself dumb. Personally, I interpret it as either him leaning into stereotypes associated with his dialect considering the "i feel like i let people down when they find out what i'm like bc they expect me to be totally diff bc of the way i speak" or him not liking having responsibilities so he tries to "i'm too dumb to do this on my own" his way out of the possibility of disappointing people by failing.

[pinkdiamond82]

Original Writing - Fight Scene Chapter (ง'̀-'́)ง

This is the first chapter I’ve written for my story, ‘The White Ravens’, but it’s taking place in the middle of the plot. I still have to write the beginning and end because I’m that person to plan in my brain and never actually write 😅

Background info:

This occurs before my two girlies in their duo, indie-rock band become girlfriends (Zoya and Eleanor).

Zoya is the main character 🎸

Lilith (little, bullying, bitchy antagonist) is part of a duo pop band. She competes fiercely in the local music industry against Zoya and Eleanor.

All characters here are around 17.

Setting: Large high school courtyard in London, late 1980? 🇬🇧

Warnings: blood, physical violence (ofc), swearing (thanks Zoya xxx), stab injury, mention of drugs

Enjoy!

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ☆ ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“Admit it.”

Silent. Lilith went silent. For one in her life, she had nothing to say.

Zoya breathed heavily as she towered over the blond teen, her knuckles going white as she gripped at the collar of Lilith’s shirt. Her heatbeat pounded in her ears.

“Admit it.” Zoya repeated through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, okay,” Lilith’s voice was feeble under false confidence, “ I stole your cassette.”

Zoya’s hand clutched tighter. “Admit everything.”

“I copied your music sample. I published it… as my own. I’m making $1000 a week because of it,” Lilith spoke while trying to maintain eye contact, “There, I said it.”

Zoya’s glare forced Lilith to spill. “Oh, and I did start that rumour about you and the um… drugs.”

Zoya finally got it. A full confession.

It was deisel poured into a pit of fire. Zoya’s grey eyes - usually vibrant and steady - now soiled with blind fury and bloodlust.

A crowd had already gathered. A few peers watched with concern. Most students considered running to get a teacher, then dismissed it at the thought of missing the start of the fight.

Zoya tried to control the flames, but Lilith was a professional arsonist and Zoya couldn’t surpress any longer.

She had already started. In a swift motion, her fist smashed against Lilith’s solar plexus. It sent her stumbling back, gasping for air. Her jaw dropped with disbelief.

Lilith looked at Zoya with eyes that spoke murder. She sprinted towards Zoya, swinging foolishly, but Zoya blocked and dodged.

Lilith loved how her face looked. So Zoya decided to ruin it.

Every punch from Zoya bespoke strength. Although she acted uncontrollably, a small part of her brain told her not to overdo it.

She didn’t want to deal with the repercussions of manslaugher.

“Tired already?” Zoya growled as Lilith panted.

The once cocky and arrogant teen had been reduced to a small, frail girl. Her hair was out of place, makeup smudged, sweat trickled from her forehead. Blood poured from her nose. Bruises had started to form. Her lip swelled.

The crowd yelled and cheered. Some chanted Zoya’s name.

Others looked with horror.

Then Zoya slapped Lilith across the face. Lilith, on her knees and wide-eyed, looked like a child who was getting punished.

Zoya had slapped her. It was as if Zoya told her ‘I’m superior, and you know it. Everybody knows it.’

The reaction from Lilith caused Zoya to smirked derisively. Lilith couldn’t handle it.

Zoya was caught off guard when tackled by Lilith. She was shoved, landing harshly on her hip. Zoya landed a few extra punches on Lilith’s face because of it. After a short scurrying of feet and flinging of hands, Lilith herself ended up immobile, both arms pinned behind her.

Zoya begun pushing the blonde’s arm in an odd angle, slowly putting more weight on it. Lilith eyes watered as she shouted. The terror and agony on Lilith’s face was foreign.

“Stop, please. Just stop.” She sobbed.

“Stop?” Zoya scoffed. “Please. I haven’t even dislocated your shoulder yet.” The words came out eerily. Zoya, fueled by the endless torment Lilith had put her through, was blinded. However. there was still someone who could help her to see.

A familiar voice from the distance grew louder. It was a voice Zoya’s brain would not and could not block out.

“Where is - hey, let me through! Zoya!”

Eleanor pushed her way through the crowd and stood puffing. Her eyes widened as she took in the scene.

“Jesus Christ. Zoya, what are you doing?”

Zoya spoke softly, her large, muscular build still pushing Lilith’s arm. It was strange, and she was scolding a second ago. Almost like she was suddenly tired. “Stay out of this, Eleanor.”

Eleanor shouldn’t be seeing this. This is too much. She wanted Eleanor to leave.

Zoya did not look up to meet Eleanor’s gaze, for she knew the influence it would have on her. Zoya would immediately follow whatever instructions she gave out. So instead she focused on the girl below her and whispered again.

“Listen carefully, you cretin. If you keep pissing me off, I’ll-“

Shunk!

The rest of her words were sputtered. There were gasps from the crowd. Everyone stoped moving and time slowed.

Zoya felt as if she had been pushed into icy water. Has she been punched? No, it wasn’t possible. Lilith didn’t have the strength for something like this. She tried to comprehend the weird feeling in her stomach.

But then Eleanor cried out.

She rushed to Zoya, looking distressed and cursing under her breath. “Somebody get a teacher.”

Shit, Zoya thought, recalling the time when she almost ran over a puppy on the road and Eleanor foul-mouthed like a sailor.

It’s never good when Eleanor swears.

Something warm trickled down Zoya’s lower side. Still kneeling, she reached towards the dampness. Her fingers were met with a sticky liquid as well as something cold and metal-like. Zoya glanced down and found a pair of scissors embedded deeply into the side of her abdomen.

Lilith stared, horrified, scrambling to get to her feet. She hurried off, and a few boys sprinted after her.

“That bitch,” Zoya grunted, still kneeling, “she made me stain my school uniform.”

Blood bloomed on her shirt like dark ink on paper.

The floor beneath her swayed as her vision clouded. She shook her head to clear it.

She tried standing.

It worked.

But it felt like she was on a boat.

She tried walking.

Where to? She had no idea. She just wanted to walk away, away from the eyes drilling into her.

Eleanor gently grabbed her arm. “Zoya, I need you to lay down. I’m going to have to put pressure on it.” Her voice was doused in worry but it didn’t wobble.

“I’m fine, I’ve got it.” Zoya croaked, clutching to her side feebly. She tried a smile but it was more of a grimace, her body protesting for every movement she attempted.

Walking didn’t work.

She took a couple of steps and started tumbling forwards.

Eleanor caught her in her arms with enormous effort and placed Zoya on her back.

El pushed down on the the wound with her own school jumper she swiftly took off, trying hard not to move the embedded scissors whist it’s points were possibly prodding organs. Blood seeped through the dark fabric and stained her fingers.

Zoya wanted to apologise for the grime but she couldn’t find her words.

Sure, Zoya's been injured before. She's fallen from trees and skateboards. She's broken a couple of bones and gotten nasty cuts. But being stabbed in front of schoolmates takes the cake. She couldn’t shake this one off.

The dull throbbing increased and turned into an excruciating sensation. It was too much. Her eye brows furrowed. Zoya’s brave facade was cracking, and the embarrassment of being so hurt only made it worse.

She was scared.

Eleanor ordered her, voice stern, “Zoya, keep listening to my voice. Keep your eyes open, medics are coming. They’re going to patch you up.”

All Zoya could reply with were restrained nods.

Eleanor’s voice was the lifeline Zoya clung to. Her touch was firm as she pressed down on the wound, the pressure brining both pain and relief at the same time. Zoya’s fingers twitched as she tried to hold Eleanor’s bloodied hand, a wordless plea for support.

“I’ve got you, Zoya,” Eleanor’s voice was a steady anchor. Zoya’s frantic eyes met Eleanor’s gaze, finding comfort in their familiarity of blue and green.

Zoya held onto Eleanor until she couldn’t no longer. Her cold grasp went slack.

Images flickered as her mind drifted in and out of consciousness. Classmates, teachers, police, paramedics. People looking down at her, trying to talk to her.

She sunk deeper and deeper into the icy water as sound begun to fade. Her emotions sputtered to a stop. Soon all was peaceful and quiet, darkness overlapped.

Zoya could rest easy knowing Lilith’s nose would never be straight again.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ☆ ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Thank you for reading!

I understand how difficult it is for original writing to get attention, but I just can’t get into the habit of writing fanfic again. I’ve been thinking about this story for too long and it suffocates out all my other writing ideas. These girls have all my heart ;)

(I should really write some fluff now)

Please let me know what you think, or if you found any areas that need improving. I’d really appreciate it!

[deadmomjokes]

My brain’s tendency to go from an initial idea to something totally different and wildly off-the-rails of the initial scope and premise is both baffling and hilarious. And I swear, it happens every time I try to write something, outline or not.

Pulpy noir murder mystery one-shot but make it urban fantasy >>> dramatic irony laced howdunnit about the saving power of love as a deliberate action and breaking the cycle of apathy by choosing to care, ft double romantic subplots, Southern Gothic Horror but make it magical realism, elves as monstrous instead of ethereal, #acab; wait how did YOU become a main character, you little one-off exposition machine with a placeholder name? guess you need your own set of books now and oops I think I just created a Literary Universe

Chilling backstory of ruthless, manipulative villain from the above >>> Big Gay Tragedy, hero’s fall from grace wherein an angry asexual becomes a literal nightmare monster to save his marginalized people and his BonesMcCoy-knockoff boyfriend, functional commentary on how working within existing power structures to affect change frequently leaves the marginalized in a catch-22 of performative worthiness designed to maintain status quo for those benefiting from the current power dynamic; villain has evolved into tragic Anti-villain/Anti-hero, update initial project to reflect shift, GOSH DARN IT that’s another book we have to add at least

Three immortals hanging out in a cabin in the woods accidentally get found out and have to convince their discoverer not to turn them in to the government >>> depressed and compassion-fatigued immortal wakes up in the middle of his own autopsy, has to convince his coroner and himself both that life might be okay actually, complicated by the fact that he’s accidentally party to kidnapping said coroner, who is definitely having the Worst Day of Her Life but handling it surprisingly well for someone running on caffeine, spite, and the Hippocratic oath

Steampunk Sherlock Holmes but make it a magical realism fantasy roadtrip >>> ... actually that one is basically still the same nvm

Cars, but make it people >>> Oh hey turns out that’s a thing already and Cars is based on a 90s movie that’s based on an obscure book; who knew! anyway >>> anti-imperialist ecopunk Weird West middle-fantasy, once again about the choice to care for others over the convenience of neutrality and safety of apathy (not that I have some strongly held thematic opinions or anything)

Short story written to-market for a SFF magazine competition, maybe drop some allusions/analogs to current world events to make it *~Timely and Relatable~* (I really want to win this thing, I need money, I’m a shameless sellout) >>> Does the end really justify the means, or do the means determine the end? If saving one person means killing five more, is it worth it? If that one person could save ten more, would your answer change? Does that change who you thought you were? Is there ever a right answer to the question of who deserves to live? Is true pacifism even an option in a world where violence is also an option? Oh yeah and some contemporary fantasy I guess, just slap some pointy ears on those dudes or something

Basically what I’m saying is that sometimes your heart knows better than your brain, and you should never be afraid to play around and just Go For It because some of your best ideas may come from asking “What if” about 37 times in the course of a single outline point, and so what if it ends up totally different than your initial starting point, the joy is in the journey, right?

Also you never come up with a plot resolution as perfect as “dying girl tries to stab a demigod with a borrowed demon sword on behalf of an undead terrorist, demigod proceeds to pat her on the head, give her a shiny new powerup that may or may not be cursed, and scoop everyone up in a cup & dump them outside like an unwelcome but ultimately harmless spider”* on purpose, that stuff either comes to you in dreams or at 11pm on a weeknight while attempting a sleep-deprived writing challenge that forcibly shuts off your inhibitions.

Aka, let yourself be weird, it works out way better than you think.

*Yes that is a legitimate plot point I am using in one of my novels. I had agonized over how to solve the corner I’d written myself into for months before the “screw it, idc anymore” kicked in, whereupon this brilliant solution immediately asserted itself like I hadn’t brought myself to tears trying to work it out logically.

[13-beutelteufel]

Paradise (tlod)- The message - Part II

Paradise - The Lady of Darkness (tlod) is a connected story. The correct order is in the masterlist in my pinned post

The thing, whatever it was, took a written note out of its folder and slapped it against the window pane, face first. Hermes felt sick when he read the few words.

Rainbow had eventually given up listening to Hermes's nagging. He hadn't given up the search for Orania, quite the opposite, but bullying Moonshine wasn't getting them anywhere either. They would have to take on Rosalie and Green Poud. And he had already tried that several times without success. Rainbow's brain was running at full speed as he stepped back into the corridor. Simply sneaking past Moonshine was out of the question. The goddess would have noticed immediately, after all, she had branded them all with her magical threads. Persuading her seemed pointless too. Distract her, perhaps? As he strolled along the corridor in his thoughts, he almost bumped into Belli, who suddenly came round the corner in front of him. "What in the gods names has happened to you?" he asked anxiously when he saw the girl's chalk-white face. "Good question." "Huh?" "I… well, I don't know myself." And then it all bubbled out of her. Rainbow had to concentrate to follow her, but the more she talked, the more uncomfortable he felt. It was almost as if he was afraid. "But that can't actually be true." he said when Belli had finished. "Moonshine is watching the palace and the lake with great certainty. It's almost impossible for an assassin to sneak past her. Besides, the windows on this side overlook the lake. She, Hermes and I should have been able to see it." Belli didn't contradict him. "That wasn't an assassin." she only replied, her voice a hotter whisper. Did that change the situation fundamentally? Not really, no. But still, her statement frightened Rainbow. The thought that something else, something evil and powerful, was after them gave him a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Come with me." He said tonelessly. "We'll tell Moonshine about it." They were silent on the way back. Caught up in their own thoughts, along with the horror that loomed over them anew. When would it finally be over? Rainbow was tired of the fear that kept bubbling up again and again. "Moonshine, we have a problem." Rainbow only realised that he had pushed the door open so hard that it had crashed against the wall with a loud bang when Moonshine and Hermes turned to them, startled. The two of them looked as if they had just seen a ghost. "Are you all right?" asked Rainbow, a little flustered. Hermes continued to stare at him with a face that revealed that absolutely nothing was all right. A blast of cold night air rushed into the room as Moonshine opened the window. Rainbow narrowed his eyes in irritation. He could have sworn that it had still been light when he had left the room. He only noticed in passing that it had stopped raining. His attention was focussed on the note that Moonshine had taken from the windowsill and held out to him. The writing on it was in the language of Megatron. Rainbow's mouth went dry as he read the few words. "What is it?" asked Belli. Of course, she couldn't decipher the short message. "Bargoss…" Rainbow barely got the words past his lips. "Megatron… they… he sent us a warning signal. One of two, as it says here." Belli actually managed to turn even paler. "But why?" croaked Hermes more hotly. Rainbow had almost forgotten about him. "Did he make any demands?" Moonshine shook her head almost imperceptibly, and Rainbow couldn't remember any either. "None that we know of." he said. "Maybe not us, but Green Poud and Rosalie." Belli muttered quietly. "Why would they?" Moonshine breathed barely perceptibly. The first words she'd uttered in Rainbow's presence since the war began. "Why don't they let us look for Orania? And don't tell me it's too risky."

Part III:

[petty-crush]

Notes from a tribute to Roger Corman

-on July 29th 2024 a double feature was shown at the New Beverly, paying tribute to the recently departed Roger Corman (he produced both)

-the films were “Brain Dead”(1990) and “The Unborn” (1991).

-In between the films both directors of said films (Adam Simon and Rodman Flender, respectively) shared stories and memories

-both cheerfully admitting to loving David Cronenberg, whose prescience is all over their movies

-both actually knew each other quite well, and collaborated on each other’s work

-Flender mentioned how when he went to Harvard he regularly tried to show films like “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre” which was cancelled by the facility as it “lowered the aesthetic standards of the program”

-Flender and Simon were never compelled to do artistic wanks inspired by the French new wave or documentaries (which they accuse their classmates of giving into like pigs into shit)

-Flender submitted his student short to Corman. He flew to California (on his own dime). Corman asked if he knew marketing. Flender responded in the negative. Next week he was made head director of international marketing

-Simon had also only done a student short, but was given a chance to direct by Corman(eventually)

-Simon alluded to being fired from a picture by Stallone (he was vague and often didn’t have the microphone close enough to his mouth)

-Simon went home dejected only to see an envelope on his desk. It contained a script Charles Beaumont had written for Corman in the 1960s, but was never made

-Simon loved Beaumont (and the script felt notably Philip k Dick like, another big inspiration)and was blown away he was given the chance to direct it

-Simon mentioned how Julia Roberts auditioned for the female lead, wanting it so bad she hung around the set for a week even after another actress got the part (Simon felt the age gap between her and star Bill Pullman broke credibility)

-Simon laughed at how, for a year after Roberts broke big, Corman would (good naturedly) tease him about that every chance he got

-both Flender and Simon noted how Corman gave each director a list of rules and guidelines before their first film

-including don’t do more than two takes, don’t ask the camera guy how the shot was (“camera men always want another take”), only so many set ups a day are possible, don’t sit down, if a actor has a question- answer with comments on character, and others they forgot in the moment

-Flender cheekily noted Corman didn’t always follow his own advice. When he assistant directed re-shoots for “Frankenstein Unbound” (Corman’s last film) Roger did one take then directly asked the camera man what he thought!

-Flender noted how excited he was to receive the lecture from Corman on directing (he had only heard bits before) but when it came time, Corman noted “I’ve said this speech so many times I’m tired of hearing my own voice. You know what I want” (Flender was a little heartbroken)

-Simon noted how the same year that “Brain Dead” came out, so did “Sex, Lies, and Videotape”; which ushered in an explosion of independent cinema, which took the shine off of new Corman proteges (unlike the wave that produced Joe Dante, John Sayles, etc).

+He bears no grudges

-“Brain Dead” was originally called “Paranoia” but test audiences didn’t understand it or thought it said “Piranha”

-Flender noted how they showed the films for audiences at the Peppertree Cinemas in LA

-hilariously, they just emptied out a screening for another film (in “The Unborn”’s case, “Lionheart” with Van Damne) which caused a third of the audience to just leave

-“but really, that two thirds that stayed, that didn’t care that it wasn’t the film they came to see…I couldn’t imagine a better audience to test your picture against” [Flender]

-Flender noted how they never asked the audience to write down responses, they just watched them (which scenes caused members to wander down the aisles, which moments created unwanted laughs, which horror sections caused screams, etc)

-Simon had a funny moment where Corman, with withered patience, insisted that “Brain Dead” go from 91 minutes to 87 minutes, as the latter was exactly four reels, which saved shipping costs

-“Roger told me ‘Adam, if it was 110 minutes I would let it go. But you’ll survive those lost four minutes’” [Simon]

-Flender was asked by Corman to think of a new film company name, so that he could release additional pictures outside of his exclusive contract with MGM/UA

-“Roger was insistent it have a hard c name, to give it gravitas. ‘Like Cadillac?’ ‘Exactly!’” [Flender]

+(it was eventually called Califilm Pictures)

-Simon had a mild panic attack on his first day, the realization that this wa his big non student break.

-“I went over to Pullman, and totally forgot my comment. I whispered in his ear and admitted my memory lapse. He just looked at me, nodded his head, said ‘Got it’ like I knew what I was talking about. What a guy” [Simon]

-Corman liked what Simon had done and offered him “Body Chemistry” (an erotic thriller). Simon declined and pursued a project with John Landis that didn’t happen (never specified)

-“I went back to Roger, who was smiling, noting that I technically owed him two more films on my three picture contract. I asked what he had for me. With a bigger smile he raised his fingers and said ‘Body Chemistry II’” [Simon]

-Felder noted “what a honor” it was to be the B Film in a tribute to Roger Corman

-both laughed and quickly noted how Corman really didn’t think (or like) of them as B Films, at least in the classic sense of bring the 2nd less important picture on a double bill

-Wrapping it up, Simon and Felder noted how many Corman meant to them, as an inspiration, mentor, and as a film lover. It capsized an genuine sense of joy they felt for the man

Fuck the flowers, they gave him his fruit baskets

[zeon-twilight]

Finding Motivation...?

It occurs to me how rarely I have used this platform to express my own thoughts. The ease of the reblog, a world of attention grabbing things to share. It's amusing to look back and see so much talk and so little said. Memes are still fun though I suppose. Can one use Tumblr to blog? Suppose it comes with the usual horrors of being known. Once it's on the internet it's there forever right? :P Ah well, I've long tried to make it my policy to not say anything I was unwilling to discuss further, so I'm going to use my personal blog for writing some thoughts, and you dear reader, can filter out at whatever point feels right for you as I ramble on about things you're unlikely to care to much about. Sound good? Good. So I'm an emotionally semi-numb 35 year old trans relationship anarchist at the moment in 2024, what a long strange trip it's been so far. Getting older I suppose, but the core of me hasn't really changed all that much save for a growing sense of discernment. I have had many difficult lessons in the ways in which I could've done better both for others, and for done better for myself. Spent a lot of time wondering about the waves of stress which run over the friends I have loved, and how those stressors have fractured and even broken many friendships that once felt so very important. Suppose it comes down to the old mindset debate, abundance and scarcity and how it messes with the mind. I can see how the pressures brought me low of my best self, then compounded into a depression which led to even less of being at my best. Spent a lot of time gritting my teeth and just working through it, because what else are you going to do right? All things in this life are choices and you're stuck with whatever ones you've made and many you didn't. The only thing we have control over is us, and sometimes even that's somewhat uncertain. Hanger is real dawg. I've been pulling up a bit from the depression feeling recently, though every day brings it's own struggles, but also joys. A little bit of everything all of the time as they say. I've found at least I've found some motivation (I want to avoid homelessness you see) to keep at the many gigs I have to work to be able to pay rent. Groceries were too expensive today, and that's just kind of how it is now. Eternal hustle of gig work for keeping my head just above water, but I suppose that's pretty good when others are drowning right? I miss the folks I used to roll with. It's funny how common a story that is huh? Maybe it's one of those red car kinda things, you know, you get a red car then your brain is wired to spot them everywhere. Maybe because I miss my old gang I'm hyper aware to other folks going through that kinda trauma. Been doing a lot of cleaning gigs. I have found a certain appreciation for them as an opportunity to listen in to a podcast and just hyperfocusing on scrubbing. Wish my creative energies weren't so subject to my internal mood much of the time though. it's a time of fear and anxiety and I can't really blame anyone looking to protect themselves. I'm just saddened by how isolating it feels these days. I'm working hard and trying to keep the ship afloat, wishing I had taken better care of my connections, and hoping they are well, life is too short for grudges. Trying to nurture the bridges that haven't burned. Dealing with it day by day. Good to put the words somewhere I guess. Feels like a lot of media makes me think of the past lately, feels sometimes like there's a Game master with a surly disposition calling for some rough moments to key up the drama a couple notches, but that's probably overly dramatic. I guess Tumblr really isn't this kind of site, or maybe it is? I figure it's my blog and if I want to ramble somewhat vaguely about my life in a semi-private but also perceivable manner, I'm allowed to. Maybe it'll resonate. Wishing you well, Who/what/where/when-ever you are, ZT

[therandomartmaker]

I posted 2,558 times in 2022

That's 2,558 more posts than 2021!

174 posts created (7%)

2,384 posts reblogged (93%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@i-amtransexual

@yayee-prsp

@gentrychild

@elytrians

I tagged 608 of my posts in 2022

#randomartmaker rambles - 107 posts

#randomartmaker writing - 35 posts

#randomartmaker utterings - 32 posts

#randomartmaker ao3 - 21 posts

#randomartmaker art - 20 posts

#digital art - 17 posts

#orv - 17 posts

#my art - 15 posts

#short story - 15 posts

#tcf - 13 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#it really sucks when you’re raised half-half but somehow it ends up tilting towards english and you’re the only one in your family like that

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Yoichi explaining the story of OFA in fics is kind of funny to me. I personally believe in the “set around like 100-200 years in the future” gig for bnha, so whenever i think about yoichi i think abt him being memey

So his entire explanation of OFA would just be filled with memes in any scenario i imagine him in.

“So he yeeted me into a vault because he thought i was a poor little meow meow,”

“The quirk was essentially a strengthening quirk, even if wasn’t actually that and it was powerful. And because he fucking locked me in a vault, i decided i was going to use said quirk against him, because it be like that sometimes.”

“Sibling Relationships.” [wistful sigh]

“Second [sudden fake russian accent] shot him ze legs,”

“My brother once tried to brainwash me with telepathy, like a knockoff [activate gremlin mode] ‘it’s me boy, i’m the ps5, speaking to you inside your brain’, “

“I was so tempted to just steal his fucking kneecaps,”

Main point of this is that half of the explanation is just unintelligible to everyone.

Regardless, I don’t have good enough memory to remember enough easy mouldable/applicable memes and use them quickly, so here are the only ones i could think of.

If i used one incorrectly, stfu, i don’t have ingrained memory on this shit like some of you because i need to pass a mentally stable human being.

65 notes - Posted April 15, 2022

#4

Latest artwork for y’all is some lazily shaded and coloured Yor Forger haha i haven’t watched spyxfamily

65 notes - Posted July 21, 2022

#3

So. Humans are Space Orcs/Deathworlders Idea, and one that I’m not quite sure has been done yet?

A planet that has been terraformed in such a way that it has perfect living conditions for most known species, and is used as storage for samples of most non-sentient life for studies.

It is, logically, classified as a death world, but due to the fact that it’s been terraformed that way and segregated to ensure perfect comfort for general types of beings (mammalian, avian, marine etc. and divided further) no one cares about that classification.

And then humans drop into whatever interplanetary/universal union group and are like “Oh! This planet seems cool. Can we go on it?” And almost all aliens immediately panic because this new species hasn’t been classified into what environments it can survive/needs for survival.

When the realisation that Humans survive on a genuine deathworld hits, they decide to just drop a group of them on the planet with the rules and regulations booklet and record what happens.

Human 1: Oooh. This is like a giant biome themepark!

Human 2: Bets that the Australians will bolt to the beaches?

H1: If I’m taking that bet, then you have to take the bet that none of scientists would study any of these biomes

H2: that’s a losing bet. That’s not fair.

Alien, witnessing an entire crew of human diving into the water from where the mountainous zone meets the marine zone with a cliff:

Alien, watching in horror as some humans run to the permafrost zone in nothing but summer clothing:

Alien, supervising the scientists as a large amount of equipment is used to study the non-sentient biodiversity in whatever section caught their interest:

The main focus of this post is meant to be the idea of the planet and not humans interacting with it but like,,, you can’t tell me there’d wouldn’t be an edition of an information booklet for to what species can go in what biomes dedicated to solely humans ending with “but there are exceptions, like some humans will attempt to peel their own skin off in extreme heat temperatures, so just place them on the central platform and let them roam and don’t forget your trackers.”

74 notes - Posted June 14, 2022

#2

“Kudo Shinichi, sir!” A reporter called out from the crowd, one of many. Shinichi didn’t know why but he started paying attention to them.

“Sir, is it true that you are dating Kuroba Kaito, rising magician?”

Now, Shinichi could just say no comment and move on, but he was tempted to have a little fun.

Kaito would love him for doing this anyway.

Shinchi pulled his closest Kaito Grin, shooting the man a thumbs up, absolutely shiteating. He bolted in the other direction.

It would be hours later that Kaito finds out about the broadcasting of their relationship, and the ensuing riot that occured.

His mother found him rolling on the floor cackling like a witch gone mad.

116 notes - Posted May 17, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

“Ok. I’m calling you guys 1864th, Plotter and 999th, because the other options; Mine, Not mine and Wish it was mine, are not viable.” - Kim Dokja at some point

236 notes - Posted March 26, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[attystark]

The warehouse (Part one?)

Warnings: Ambiguous ending, Remus delights in creepy things, terrible writings. 

No, I won’t give up on making Logan the twin’s older brother, I just love the idea okay? also I slipped up, didn’t pay attention and no Roman and Remus are British I guess. 

Word count: 1422. 

Ships: platonic creativitwins, platonic anroceit, platonic anxceitmus. 

The middle of the night is not a very good time to be doing anything; but it was, in Virgil's opinion, a VERY not good time to sneak around an abandoned warehouse. Yet there he was, watching nervously as Janus and Remus made to break the rusting lock, hoping that, for the first time in their lives, they would fail to open a locked door.

Needless to say, it wasn’t his lucky day, and Remus, eventually, managed to break the goddamn thing by hitting it with a rock. Usually, this would have been amusing, but sneaking onto the one building in town with more disappearances, murders and general horror tied to it than highschool on halloween felt like a bad idea, and Virgil didn't want to die today. (well, he did, but that was more a nebulous want for death than a desire to die of friends stupidity). Still, when Remus set his hand to the handle, ignoring Janus’s tetanus joke, Virgil stepped forward in turn with the others, figuring he could probably prevent them from going too far in the endeavour to cause as many problems as possible and subsequently dying.

It was possible that Janus was right, and Virgil worried easily.

“Holy shit,” Remus breathed as he stepped into the warehouse, his sneakers flashing with each step he took.

The place was huge, lined with graffiti from every teen who had stepped foot in this gorgeous building since it had closed in 1982. A patch of light, a mix of street lamps and the moon, shone into the middle of the room, casting a shadowed glow that brought to mind horror movies and murder. Remus grinned, grabbing his camera out from his bag and shooting away from the other two to take photos.

The graffiti lining the walls were not, as it turned out, from a variety of people, but a group of two who tagged their art simply with a greek alpha symbol and an egyptian hieroglyph that Remus figured Janus would know, they were both extremely talented, with Alpha, as Remus found himself mentality calling them, seeming to prefer calligraphy of sorts, leaving passages from famous books (some of which Remus even recognised!) and sometimes their own thoughts on the walls, whilst Hieroglyph seemed to prefer art, drawing scenes Remus recognised as their town in the early 2000s, when Remus himself was growing up.

Remus continued to follow the walls, taking photos of his preferred quotes and some of the coolest shots (an odeon dated to 2010, the river in winter of 2008, and the highschool from 2003 amongst others.) As he walked, he saw the art improve, the quotes become more legible and the technique more complicated, and he realised they had started in the left of the room and moved around, until the art finally stopped near the door. Finally, in the middle of the room, he met with Janus and Virgil, who were standing studying one of the quotes, and the image underneath. “Hey Rem, what’d you think this is showing?” Virgil said, his eyes on the art. It took Remus a few seconds to realise what he meant, until his brain cells kicked in and he noted that the art did not appear to depict anywhere in town, and was tagged as 1873, despite the town being founded in the late 1920s. Yet that was definitely their river, the rocks were in the same place as now and Remus would know the field the building was built on anywhere, as it was in the same place as his older brother’s house.

Janus, meanwhile, had begun to read the tag aloud, “To those who wish to meet our kind, come posthaste, do not be late.” he read, still staring up at the giant letters. “Our kind?” Remus repeated, pulling out his camera and taking a photo of both the writing and the painting.

Which was when Virgil gasped and shot forward, pointing at something none of them had noted before.

An ex in the field. It was small, maybe a few centimeters squared, and Remus stared at it for what felt like eternity, trying to figure out where one would stand to paint the image, and hence, where the X was. Eventually, he figured it out, and turned to the other two. “I know where we’ll need to go.” Virgil nodded, a brief look of relief splashing over his face. Had he been worried they’d never work out who the two mystery graffitier’s were? “Ok, let’s go back to the hideout to grab some shovels just in case, then lets go.” Janus said, already turning to the exit. “ why would we need shovels?” Virgil asked, catching up with their much shorter friend. “To bury your body, why’d you think, tickle-me-emo,” “Rem has used that one before, doesn't count.” “Your mom doesn’t count,” “My mom’s dead?” “Exactly,” “Stuff you, Double-De.” Remus laughed as the argument continued tuning out as they walked the familiar wooded path to the abandoned log cabin they’d found a few years before.

Roman frowned as he heard voices headed up the forest path, crouching low behind one of the worn armchairs in the front room of his brother’s den. The door flicked open a few seconds later and he heard Remus say “just get the shovels, we have to get there before midnight.” “Get where before midnight?” Roman asked instantly, popping up and causing Remus to jump before glaring at Roman. “What the Hell are you doing here?” “And how did you find us?” Janus asked., leaning nonchalantly against the door frame. Roman smirked. “I followed you a few weeks ago, it wasn’t hard and I was curious.” “SO YOU FOLLOWED US?!” Remus snapped, and Roman flinched, not expecting the anger. “Well I may also have been told to,”Roman admitted. “BUT, I didn’t tell, so you either tell me where you’ve been going or I tell Mum where you’ve been disappearing off two for the past three years, and I’ll tell Logan,” He figured threatening to involve their mum and older brother would work.” “Fine,” Remus snapped “we’re going to find something, the location is a secret from Janus and Virge too, so I’m not telling you that.” “Fine by me,” “If you two are done squabbling,” Virgil said, slipping into the room and short Roman a small smile “I got the damn shovels.”

It was a short walk to the field, and from there to the spot they needed to get too, which was a small indent just behind the house Logan had renovated with his fiance just a few years prior, but once they arrived it took a long time to where the large box waited, decorated with a greek alpha and a hieroglyphic bird. “The greek and egyptian letters for A,” Janus whispered to a confused looking Roman. “AA? Are you guys committing insurance fraud.” “Does the AA provide insurance?” Virgil asked, absently. “Doesn’t matter.” Remus shot back, we’ve found it. “But what is it?” Roman shot back, “you still haven’t told me!” Janus watched as Virgil and Remus moved to explain, turning his focus to the shockingly heavy box and lifting it out of the hole.

The box was painted with a view of the night sky, with constellations Janus would recognise if he knew anything about astronomy and a large moon, its craters almost forming a smile. Janus lifted the wooden lid to find several items, all from the 2000’s with the exception of a dead iphone 4, its case cracked beyond repair. The other items were a CD in a small case with a handmade cover entitled “About A and A”, a book on vampires published in 2006, a large metal cross, and two vials of what looked like blood. “Do we even have a CD player?” Roman asked, glancing over and peering inside. “I do,”Virgil supplied. “Oooooof course you do, My chemical gay-mance.” “That one didn’t even make sense, Ro,” “I’m sorry, since when did my brother get a nickname?” Janus snorted, then frowned as he noted a hinge pair of hinges on the bottom of the box. Without thinking he dumped out the contents to find a second painting, this one of the other side of the river in the false bottom. “You have gotta be kidding me!” Roman groaned. “I wish” Janus sighed as he studied the image. “We’ll figure it out in the morning, once we get that dvd player.” Remus sighed. “And sleep.” “Sure Janus,” Virgil laughed “and sleep.”

[hertzwritings]

Close(r) friends

A/N: YES I AM DOING TWO STORIES TODAY BECAUSE YOU DESERVE IT AND I FEEL HORRIBLE FOR NOT POSTING YESTERDAY. I love you all so much, thank you for letting me take some me-time.

I hope you’ll enjoy another type of roommate-au from me, because I am in love with this damned trope.

You can buy me a coffee here and I’ll write you a personalized drabble, one-shot or multichapter fic – the sky is the limit, so anything you want, you can get!

Love y’all. Remember, feedback feeds the soul and my requests – and askbox – are always open – there’s no limits, because I am me and I have none.

MASTERLIST

ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS

Pairing: Roommate AU!Henry Cavill x female reader

Contains: Language, roommates to lovers, smut (MINORS DNI)

W.C.: 3.552

 Close(r) friends

 You groaned and cursed at the stupid glasses, that were on the stupid shelf, that you couldn’t reach. Fucking idiotic, that you were living with a tree of a man, and your arms were too short, especially with bandages on your hands.

Fucking idiotic boiling water.

“Y/N?” His voice rang through the apartment as you tried fruitlessly to grab the fucking glass again, but only managed to push it in further on the shelf, and you groaned.

  “Dude, what the hell are you doing?” He mumbled, towering over you and grabbed the glass for you, eyeing the bandages. “The kettle got you?” you nodded, pursing your lips. “It’s honestly about time. We’ve been mortal enemies since you brought it into the apartment.” He filled the glass for you. “How bad is it?” You sighed. “First degree. Not too bad, it could’ve been worse.” You said and eyed the full glass of water, you definitely couldn’t lift. “Here, tilt back.” He held the glass to your lips and carefully poured water down your throat – you shivered a little at the cold. “Why are you home already?” You asked, when he removed the glass from your lips. “Oh, well, I’m down as your emergency contact, so the doctor called me and I got off early.” “You didn’t have to do that, I would’ve been…” “If you say fine right now, I’m slapping you.” “Good. I was about to say good.” You felt heat rush to your cheeks and licked your lips – he didn’t see it, thankfully. “Same shit, different day.” He shrugged. “Are you good, need me to do anything?” He asked with concern lacing his voice. “No, I’m fine. Oh, actually, could you turn on the TV and maybe put on that horror movie, we never got to finish the other day?” He nodded. “Sure.” He turned it on and looked back at you. “You sure you’re good?” You nodded happily. “Yeah, I’ll finish this and probably go to bed. I’ve been traumatized by a kettle, I need the rest.” He laughed. “Alright. I’m going to my room, just call out if you need something, okay?” You thanked him and sat down, relaxed and tried to watch the movie without focusing too much on the pain in your hands.

-------

“Motherfucker!” you grumbled as you dropped your toothbrush for the fourteenth time and growled at the stupid, little brush resting in the sink. You were just about ready to concede, but you wanted clean teeth and a fresh brain, and you wanted to do it yourself, which is why you hadn’t called on Henry to help – it was stupid to have your roommate, which you had a major, uncomfortable crush on, brush your damn teeth.

“Fuck it.” You sighed and walked with heavy steps to his room and knocked on the door. “Yeah, two seconds!”  He called out and you waited, tripping a little. This was idiotic. He opened the door and poked his head out – you could see the computer screen and the game that was currently going and felt even worse for asking. “Hey, what’s up?” You bit the inside of your cheek. “You know what, it doesn’t matter, you’re playing, and I don’t want…” “Seriously, Y/N, you know I don’t care about that. What can I help you with?” You sighed and looked up at him behind your lashes. “I need help brushing my teeth.” You mumbled. “Oh. Er… You can’t just use mouth wash and call it a day?” He asked gently. “No, it doesn’t make my teeth feel smooth.” He chuckled. “Okay. Let’s do it. I’m just telling the guys I’m out for a bit, hang on.” He walked back to his station and put his headphones on.

“Hey, I’m off for a while. Yeah, I gotta help ba—Y/N.” he cleared his throat. “I’ll let you know when I’m back, I’ll join up again.” He pulled the headphones off, and quickly came with you to the bathroom. “What were you about to call me in there?” You asked with a grin, leaning awkwardly on the counter. He blushed a little. “Oh, er, it… Uhm…” He smiled a little shyly at you. “It’s just been easier, so don’t judge me, okay? I didn’t want to be hounded by the boys and Lawrence has been trying to set me up with his little sister, so…” “Henry, you’re rambling.” “Fine, fine, fine. Okay, so… I sometimes call you baby.” He blushed even harder at that, and you almost choked on your spit. “Really?” you asked a little breathlessly. “Don’t judge me!” He moaned. “It’s just been to get them off my back.” “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, big boy.” You gestured to the toothbrush. “let’s get going.” He nodded and quickly put toothpaste on the brush, wetting it after and got ready – he stopped right before reaching your mouth. “This is weird.” “Don’t tell me, I already know.” You mumbled. “It’s just… A little intimate, right?” He asked, holding the toothbrush out in front of him. “In a weird way, yes. Let’s just get it over with and forget that I ever needed assistance like this.” He chuckled. “Okay.” He began brushing and you had to restrain yourself from holding onto his shoulder; he was very close, and his face scrunched up in concentration. The tip of his tongue darted out and wetted his lower lip, and your breathing hitched at the sight. “Hang on, this position is stupid.” He laid the toothbrush down on the counter and grabbed your waist; you shivered at the touch and barely contained a moan, as he lifted you effortlessly, letting you sit on the counter and stepped between your legs. He held your chin tightly in his hand, and you licked your lips. “This is weird. I feel like a dad. This must be what it’s like to have kids.” He mumbled, grabbing the toothbrush. You opened your mouth for him, but decided in the last minute to talk instead of sitting still. “Does that mean I need to call you daddy now?” you asked, eyebrows raised. He sputtered. “Don’t do that.” You snickered. “What, daddy?” “Oh my God, don’t call me that and look at me like that!” he grumbled, and you couldn’t help the giggles tumbling from your lips. You looked back at him with wide eyes and you saw his chest rise a little faster than normal. “Just… Sit still, or I’ll end up hurting you.” “Yes, daddy.” He rolled his eyes. “Good girl.” He mumbled and the surge of heat to your core was unexpected. Oh no. You kept close eye contact with him, and he cleared his throat uncomfortably. Silence fell between you as he gently brushed, his fingers on your chin and cheeks, warm on your skin. It felt weirdly close, like a line had been crossed somewhere in the last few minutes. You rolled your hips, trying to sit a little better and create just a sliver of friction between your legs. “Don’t… Stop squirming!” He hissed, and you bit down on the toothbrush just to annoy him. “Okay, if you’re playing that way…” He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t think I don’t know stuff about you.” “Like what?” You were muffled by toothpaste. He smirked and leaned closer. “Can you be good for me, darling?” you gulped and froze with your mouth open. Oh, no. “Good girl.” Your eyes almost rolled back in your head at that – he must’ve overheard something from your last boyfriend. “That’s what I thought.” You rolled your eyes at him and shifted again, which made you inch closer to his crotch. “Don’t get closer, just sit still, damnit.” He mumbled and instinctively moved closer to you. You couldn’t help it, really. It was pretty much a dare to be this close and not do anything about it, especially when he held your face the way he did. “Don’t…” he groaned as you “accidentally” grinded against him and felt something very hard against your crotch. He let the toothbrush fall out of your mouth and then out of his hand and you leaned over to the side to spit the toothpaste into the sink. “You’re hard, daddy?” you teased, but felt the exact same reaction from your own body. It had been very – weirdly – intimate for him to brush your teeth and hold your face in the way, he did, and you weren’t unaffected by it. “Oh, Jesus…” he sighed. “Fine, yes, I am. How could I not be, you’re… Doing that…” He pointed to your crotch, that still was somehow connected to his. “And you called me…” You tilted your head to the side. “Oh, you liked it, huh?” You asked. He rolled his eyes. “You like being called a daddy?” You lowered your voice a little, still trying to keep the teasing clear. “You want to be my daddy?” Whatever had come over you was new, and you had no idea where it came from; it was not like you to ever say these things.

“Okay, that’s it.” He grabbed your thighs and pushed you into him completely, before lifting you off the counter, carrying you to his bedroom and threw you on the bed. “You’re a brat, you know that?” His blue eyes had darkened significantly, and you swallowed thickly. “What’re you going to do about it?” He growled and moved closer to you. “What’s gotten into you, baby girl?” He asked with a slanted smile. You sucked in a sharp breath. Oh, this was bad. You were already so fucking wet, you were sure your panties were ruined, and the way he looked at you made your legs shake. You had already gone this far, why not go the extra mile? “I don’t know, maybe I just want to see how bad I need to be for you to do something…” You smiled innocently at him. “Daddy.”

Whatever held him back before was gone in the blink of an eye, and he pounced on you, lips on yours and fingers clawing at your oversized shirt, you’d been using as a sleepshirt, to get rid of it. You were more than happy to oblige, lifting your arms up and arching your back so he could pull it off of you – the few seconds it took to get it over your head was more than enough for you to miss his lips, but he was back on them before you could blink. His teeth caught your lower lip and tugged, while his hands roamed your chest, pinching your nipple., you whined and arched into his touch, and he smirked against your lips.

“Oh, you like it, baby? Want me to take good care of you…?” he asked slowly, his fingers moving down to the waistline of your panties. You thanked the gods above that you had chosen a good pair today. He rumbled and the sound vibrated in your chest. “Yes, fuck…” You moaned, closing your eyes when his fingers dipped inside of your panties and rubbed small, deliberate circles on your clit. He was moaning against your lips as he felt you twitch underneath him, and you whined as a finger dipped inside of you. “Fuck, you’re wet already…” he chuckled darkly against your lips and added another finger. “All for me, baby?” You moaned as he began dragging his fingers against your walls. “Yes, all f-for you…” you stumbled over your words and barely had time to prepare when he added his thumb to your clit, fingers moving faster inside of you and you came around his fingers. “Fuuuck, baby, look at you…” He moaned as you came, coating his fingers in your slick and fucked you senseless with his fingers. You were on fucking fire, every nerve in your body standing to attention as wave after wave of pleasure rolled over you, drawing whimpers and moans from your lips as he fucked you through the orgasm. “You took me so damn well, baby… God, those little noises you make with that pretty, little mouth of yours…” He kissed you deeply and moved his fingers from you to move your underwear off. You whined and grunted, when you realized you couldn’t do anything to get him undressed due to the fucking bandages. “Patience, baby.” He kissed you quickly and stood, removing his clothes quicker than should be humanly possible, until he was completely undressed. You gaped at the size of him; you always had an inkling that he was a big guy just from the way he walked and carried himself, but this? This was a whole new level of big.

It throbbed, the tip angry and red, leaking precum and you mewled at the sight. “Condom.” You moaned, desperate to get him inside of you. “Fuck, yeah, of course.” He rushed to his desk and grabbed – of course, an xl – pack of condoms, tearing the foil in pieces with his teeth and rolled it on with a hiss, before pouncing back on you. He laid between your legs and looked down at you, his eyes searching your face. “Hey, are you sure about this?” You nodded eagerly. “Wanted it for a while.” You replied and with your bandaged paw, you pulled his head down so his lips could meet yours again. He kissed you with a groan and lined up with you, the tip against your folds and you whined again. “You’re needy, aren’t you, baby?” He mumbled against your lips. You nodded against the kiss, and he smiled as he slowly sank into you. You both gasped as he filled you, his cock stretching you completely. You thanked him silently for fingering you first, because if he hadn’t, there was no way he had fit.

He began with long, deep strokes, dragging against your walls and you wiggled a little. “Henry…” You moaned his name and caught his eyes. “Don’t go soft on me, please.” You mumbled, a little worried that he would frown at it – but the opposite happened. He smiled dangerously and stilled his hips. “Do you even know what you’re asking for, love?” he said sweetly. “Yes.” No, but I’d like to see it. He growled and lowered his head but didn’t go for your lips this time; his teeth bit down on your neck, causing you to squeal and a hand found your hair, grabbing a tight hold on it. You moaned at the pain and wrapped your legs around him, letting him go deeper as he began fucking you again, this time with more roughness. “Say my name, kitten.” He mumbled against your bitten skin, hips pistoning in and out. “Henry…” he tugged your hair harshly and found your eyes. He let go of your hair and slapped you across the face, his cock twitching inside of you as you clenched around him. “No.” You felt the familiar warmth of an orgasm coming as he stared you down. “Daddy…” You moaned and he chuckled again. “That’s my girl… Look at you taking me so fucking good… You’re taking me all the way, like a good, little whore…” You whimpered, your orgasm teetering on the edge – his words lit a fire in you that you didn’t know you had. “Fuck… I’m…” you couldn’t speak as warmth and pleasure flooded you again, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist and your body shook as he fucked you through your high. “yes, baby… Oh, fuck, feels good when you cum on my cock… I’ve wanted to feel that for so fucking long, shit…” He was rambling, but you loved it. He roared and stopped moving turning you to your stomach, lifting your ass to him. “Say stop, and I will.” He said gently before his hand fell hard on your ass; you mewled and pushed back, hoping to catch his cock again, wanting him to fill you. He chuckled and smacked you again and a third time, before he entered you deeply again. The new angle made him go impossible deep, and you were barely able to keep up as he slammed against you, his balls hitting your sensitive clit; he was groaning and moaning as he fucked you hard, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix. “Oh, fuck, you should see yourself swallowing my cock so well, darling…” He pushed deeper inside and picked up the pace. “Yes, fuck… That pretty little pussy is all mine, isn’t it?” He smacked your ass again and you pushed back against him. “Yes… All yours.” You moaned again, his name falling like a waterfall from your lips as you felt him twitch inside of you, swelling slightly. “I’m gonna cum, baby… Fuck, take all of me… Take all of daddy’s cock…” He rambled, and you were more than happy to oblige; you pushed back, keeping him deeply inside of you. “Fuck me hard… Until you cum, please, daddy…” You whispered in a broken voice. He moved at an incredible speed and his hand wrapped around your throat, holding you in a chokehold, lifting you to his chest while still pounding you deeply. He choked you and bit your shoulder with small love-bites, and your eyes rolled back in your head as another orgasm approached. You were fucked out, in complete bliss, as he rutted deeply inside of you. “You want to cum with me, kitten? Cum on daddy’s cock?” He mumbled against your heated skin, letting your throat go; he moved his fingers to your clit and began rubbing it purposefully, trying to draw the orgasm out of you. “Yes, God, daddy!” You were practically screaming now, your pussy dripping slick down your legs and his balls, your legs trembling as he fucked you. His speed was erratic, clearly close himself and he put more pressure on your clit – that was it for you, and you exploded in pleasure, wetness gushing over his cock and down your legs. “Fuck, yes…” he sounded in awe of you and his movements became sporadic and wild, ready for his own high. You couldn’t see straight. “You squirted on daddy’s cock… Fuck, you are a good girl… Yeah, such a good girl for me.” He mumbled and the praise made you convulse around him.

That did him in; you felt him stop moving and then spill inside the condom with small whimpers falling from his lips.

You slowly laid down, his cock still buried in you, and he held you tightly. The pain in your hands were forgotten already. “Cock-drunk, baby?” He asked with a barely concealed laugh in his voice. You snorted. “A little. Fuck, that was…” You trailed off. “Yeah.” He kissed your shoulder and pulled out, discarding the condom in the trashcan next to his computer. You watched him walk to it and wanted to bite down on those lovely ass-cheeks. He turned around with a small, sly smile. “What?” You asked in a hoarse voice. “Well, two, no, three things…” He ran a hand through his hair and sent you a boyish grin. “One, you’re going to stay here tonight? I’m not done, if you’re not.” You grinned. “Alright.” “Secondly, I…” he came to you and kissed you sweetly. “Have wanted that for a while.” “Me too. Thought my crush on you was very inappropriate, but I guess not.” You laughed. “No, not at all. I’m quite happy with it.” He winked at you, blush coloring his cheeks. “Thirdly…” He ran his tongue over his lips.

“I forgot to mute my mic.”

 ---------------------

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[ptergwen]

If you do smut can you do like stark!reader x peter parker (spiderman) are dating 3-4 month and y/n and peter had their very fluff first time then next morning y/n has hickies all over her neck and her thights stomach... and tony/ her dad sees it and is confronting them with it😂 i love your stories 🤤

just saying hi

w/c: 2.5k

warnings: veryyyy suggestive, swearing, some pretty embarrassing moments

a/n: thank you babe! i didn’t write the actual smut but y’all can guess what happened 😭 also this is super long i couldn’t help myself

-

it was everything. it was everything you ever wanted your first time to be and more.

you’d brought up to peter during a make out session one night that you were ready to go farther than you two already have. there was one base you didn’t hit yet. the fourth, the final. you were thinking about it for a while before that, and peter would be lying if he said he didn’t.

your love has always been physical, whether it’s you kissing peter’s cuts after a mission or him tracing hearts on you with his fingers. there’s also the more sexual side of things. that part, you both enjoy just as much, maybe even a little more because you know exactly how to make each other feel good after all the trial and error.

what better way to combine the two than, well, making love?

last night was your sign from the universe, your go ahead to do it. you had the compound to yourselves because your dad had taken all the “big kids” out for the night. you’re both well into college, but he refuses to see you as adults. that meant no peter and no you. you two were a little offended until you realized you could make use of your alone time.

you started off searching for a movie. that turned into you wrestling peter for the remote because you didn’t feel like watching back to the furure yet again. wrestling turned into you on top of him, which turned into you kissing him, which turned into peter throwing the remote somewhere and carrying you up to your room with his lips still on yours.

neither of you had to say it. you were on the same page, same wavelength, two brains in one as peter layed you down and trailed his kisses lower and lower.

peter was so gentle with you, except for when you told him not to be. those were the times he didn’t hold back. he was attentive and sweet and showed you quite a few times how much he loves you. you showed him just the same. yeah, it was really everything.

“morning, baby. you awake yet?” peter hums against the shell of your ear, arms wound comfortably around you. “kinda,” you mumble back with a goofy smile. he presses his lips to your ear and nuzzles his face in the side of your neck. “kinda... how’d you sleep?” you can hear the grin in his voice. his nose nudges your bare skin where a fresh hickey lies and makes you scrunch your own up.

“good, really good. always love sleeping with you.” you’re both aware of the alternate meaning that has now. “funny,” peter lets out a breathy laugh against you and brushes his thumb over your stomach where your shirt got ridden up. you sigh, enjoying his soft touch and reaching behind you to play with his curls. they’re a lot messier than usual from you tugging on them all last night.

peter removes his face from your neck and carefully turns you onto your other side. you’re facing him now, eyes trained on his concerned expression. “hey, just wanna check. how are you feeling? still sore?” a tiny smile stretches your face. he really does care about you and how you feel after everything. you know for a fact most other guys wouldn’t.

“i mean, yeah. you were... it was a lot, but i’ll be fine in a few days i think.” the mention of peter being a lot makes color rush to his face. you laugh quietly at that, cupping one of his cheeks that’s turning pink. “oh. i, um, i didn’t know that. sorry.” he smiles shyly as you smooth your thumb over his warm skin. “don’t be. it wasn’t as bad after i... adjusted a little,” you reassure him, making him lean into your palm.

“i really am sorry, y/n/n. can i make it up to you?” peter checks with you, eyes going up from yours to down your body. he hooks a finger in the waistband of your pajama shorts. “make you feel better?” the way he finishes his question with a bite of his lip is definitely tempting. so is your stomach yelling at you to put some food in it. you’ll have to wait.

“later. right now, you can make me breakfast,” you beam at him and take his hand. peter pushes his palm against yours, letting you lace your fingers together as he puffs some air out of his cheeks. “yeah, that’s gonna go well.” “i’m supervising. it will.” you capture his lips in a kiss, one he instantly reciprocates, free hand resting on your hip. just as it’s heating up, you break it.

“i’m hungry for actual food,” you giggle and roll out of his embrace. “ok, ok, ok. let’s go see what we have,” peter gives in with a chuckle, grabbing the same hand he was just holding and following you down to the kitchen.

he ends up popping some frozen waffles into the toaster, you sitting up on the counter with your phone out while he struggles through the different settings. “should i put it on bake? no, that doesn’t sound right,” he talks to himself with eyes squinted in concentration. “your dad made this thing so... detailed.” it’s an old stark industries toaster, one with options you probably don’t even need.

“yeah because he loves his toast, so maybe don’t break it. he’ll kill you or something,” you half playfully half seriously suggest. peter is one clumsy guy. he tsks at you and crouches down to read the words on the dial. there’s conveniently a setting for waffles, so he hits that one. he’s not sure how he hadn’t noticed it before.

since he’s down there, he takes one of your ankles in both hands and starts to kiss up your leg. it tickles when he gets to your knee, drawing a giggle out of you, but your phone still blocks his face. you’re doing it on purpose. “baby,” peter tries to get your attention in a soft voice. he presses a couple more kisses to your knee. you have to hold your breath so you don’t laugh again.

“baby girllll,” peter drags out, lips moving up your thigh. he nudges your phone with his nose much like a puppy would. “aye, i’m talkin’ to you here,” he says in a fake new york accent. you finally put it down next to you. “i’m listening.” you’re giving him a satisfied smile as he goes back to kissing you.

“just saying hi,” he looks up at you and moves your shorts aside while he kisses further and further to where you want. you scoot closer to him on the counter.

that’s when he stops. not only stops, gasps in horror. “what?” you ask quickly, his eyes fixed on your inner thighs. “i kind of, uh, marked you up. like, a lot.” he runs a finger gently over the bruised skin. you’re suddenly very aware of it now. it doesn’t exactly hurt, just feels bumpy and weird. you peer down at yourself to see the damage, eyes going wide.

“shit... they’re on my neck, too,” you remember, murmuring to him. you’ll have to cover these up before everyone gets home. worry flashes across peter’s face. “oh my god, i didn’t even realize. it- it was dark and you told me-“ “pete, it’s okay. it’s pretty hot,” you stop his rambling, reaching down and putting a hand on his shoulder. he frowns up at you.

“really? are you sure i didn’t go too far? because you can tell me.” you’ve always appreciated how much peter genuienly values your thoughts on things, in the bedroom and in other parts of your relationship. it does lead to a lot of second guessing, though. you squeeze his shoulder and let out a breath. “i’m sure, okay? it’s really not that serious. i’ll just change so no one can see.”

peter winds an arm around one of your legs, body relaxing ever so slightly under your touch. “okay.” he gives your thigh one final kiss, then rests his chin on it. “what about your neck?” “uh...” you hadn’t considered that yet. “makeup? a scarf?” you’ve seen enough tv to know neither of those work, but they’re your only options.

“yup. mr. stark is really gonna kill me now,” peter says under his breath, tensing up all over again. you furrow your eyebrows at him. “what? we’re literally grown adults, we can do whatever we want-“

tony claps loudly as he steps into the kitchen, announcing his return home. peter jumps up from between your legs faster than fast. he moves so he’s next to you, and you hop down from the counter.

“hello, daughter of mine. spider of man,” your dad greets you two, you pulling down your shorts with a plastered on smile. “or would it be man of spider?” he plucks an apple from the bowl on the table as he ponders his question. steve and wanda file into the room next. “second one,” peter replies, grinning a little too much to be normal. tony takes note of that.

wanda comes over to the fridge for a snack, which is close to where you and peter are. “how was last night?” you ask her to take the attention off you two. wanda settles on a yogurt and turns to you. “it was good. we shared a few hotel rooms, had our own party.” she glances over at peter, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “seems like you two had a fun night of your own.”

peter’s mouth drops open. “how did you-“ he forgot she could read his mind and now knows everything that happened. you slap a hand over your forehead. “you couldn’t think about anything else? for, like, a minute?” you whisper yell at him. he uses his eyes to plead with you. “i’m sorry! i was looking at the hickeys-“ he realizes what he’s saying. “crap.”

shooting you a wink, wanda shuts the fridge and goes to join the rest of the team in the living room. lucky for you and peter, steve started lecturing tony about washing his fruit before he eats it. he didn’t hear any of that. there’s still the problem of your visible hickeys that you have zero seconds to hide.

“how the fuck am i supposed to cover these? they’re right in the center, peter!” you panic, your heart starting to race as peter fumbles for a dish towel. that’s the best he could come up with? “no!” you toss it back at him. he throws it on the counter with a pained look. tony and steve make their way over to you.

“oh, hush. a couple of deadly pesticides won’t shake me, stevey boy,” tony insists and takes another big bite of his apple. steve huffs in disapproval and crosses his arms. “you’re a big baby, tony. if you’re not gonna do the right thing, at least buy organic-“ with the world’s longest sigh, tony chucks his apple into the open garbage can.

“there. no more apple discourse.” steve shakes his head at your dad’s behavior. “that was a waste. you could’ve finished it.” “not with your nagging into my literal ear.” steve raises his hands in surrender before making his way out of the kitchen. tony side steps past him and over to you. “enough of that now. let’s have a welcome home hug from my girl.”

you share a look with peter, a look of pure fear that’s in both of your eyes. he’ll definitely notice the hickeys if he gets that close to you. he holds out his arms expectantly while peter scratches the back of his own neck. “sure, dad. welcome home.” an awkward smile on your lips, you bury your face in your dad’s chest and wrap your arms around him in one motion. this way, he didn’t have time to see you from too close up.

peter exhales in relief at the narrowly avoided disaster. that’s until tony makes a request. “missed me that much, kiddo, huh? come out of there.” “but, i’m so comfortable. i wanna stay like this,” you insist, a niceness to your voice tony immediately sees through. he drops his arms from around you, eyeing peter suspiciously, who averts his gaze to the floor.

“nuh uh, you did something. both of you,” your dad states, taking a step to stand between you and peter. peter gulps down a breath before speaking. “mr. stark, it was-“ tony holds up a hand. “don’t worry, kid. i’ll figure it out.”

he gives peter a proper stare, searching him for clues of some sort. it’s a good thing he isn’t wanda because the details of your night would have been exposed. he couldn’t find anything, so now it’s your turn. he’s a little disappointed you’re the one hiding something.

“oh, y/n. not you,” tony sighs as he gives you a looking over. he starts with your face, your eyes following down as his do. it’s when he gets just past your chin that he sees them. the little hickeys littering your skin, some already deep shades of purple. he rips off his glasses in disbelief.

“absolutely not.” he closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with the same hand his glasses are in. “i’m not seeing this. i’m not seeing this if i don’t look.” you scoff at his reaction. “dad, you know we’re together. you can’t expect us to not...” “don’t say it,” tony begs, getting the urge to hurl his half eaten apple. he turns and faces peter.

“parker, you really did all of that?” peter only blinks, nervously meeting the eyes of his mentor. “to my daughter?” tony adds on to scare him even more. “i- i-“ a burst of frustration comes out of peter. “you left two teenagers alone the whole night. what’d you think was gonna happen?” he’s shocked at his own words, his face showing it. tony raises his eyebrows. both your hands cover your mouth.

not wanting to deal with peter, tony addresses you instead. “i don’t care how you do it, cover those up. don’t let me see them ever again. understood?” you nod a good amount of times and reach for peter’s hand. he’s about to give it, then tony glares down at what’s happening. peter pulls back immediatelty. “understood. we’ll, um, do better next time,” you agree, tony winching at the idea of a next time.

“you, parker... treat a lady with a little more respect, eh?” tony clicks his tongue at him. he’s referring to all the hickeys. peter’s lips form a line, a sarcastic one that says oh well. “i tried, mr. stark, but y/n wanted me to-“ “christ, that’s enough.” tony furiously shakes his head and starts to walk away from you two. “never again!”

you’re thanking god when he sets off for the living room, you hiding your face in peter’s chest, his face in your hair. “that was terrible. that was the worst thing ever,” you say into him. “i’m sorry, baby. we gotta be more careful.”

it’s not over yet because then, the toaster dings. you’d completely forgotten about the waffles. you and peter both separate with your millionth shared look of terror. tony comes rushing back into the room, very familiar with that noise.

“first you destroy my daughter, now my toaster? pete... you’re in for it, kid.”