#ITS SO BORING HELP ME (SLAMS FIST ON GROUND)

[apollotronica]

i hate h.sr😭😭

[marivoid]

"So this is the clocktower?" Martyn tipped his head back to see the colossal building. To see such architecture not in complete ruin was... Interesting, to say the least. Martyn also didn't see many buildings made of shiny, unoxidized copper and pristine gold. But it is the Crashlands.

His head turned to Brian. "Think you can fly as high as that building? Or would your wings give out?"

An unamused caw and a quick ruffle of metal feathers.

"So no?"

A much louder caw.

"I'm teasing, I'm teasing!" Martyn threw his hand up despite his laughter. Even if it didn't do much to stop Brian's brigade of pecks. "I'll stop, I'll stop! You're a very talented crow- HEY- THAT'S MY EAR-"

Martyn got so distracted with the crow that he didn't notice the doors opening. Or the people walking out of the building. Straight towards him. In fact, Martyn didn't realize until two different hands rested on his shoulder and pushed him inside.

"Gents- Gents, hey!" Martyn didn't get a response. "Me and my little crow buddy here were just bickering! Nothing to g-get too worked over about! Heh... Heh..."

Nothing would make them budge. Instead Martyn was shoved towards an actual functioning elevator. An elevator that had electricity! Martyn managed to take a spare glance around the building's lobby and was stunned. This much electricity on this scale... What in the world were these people using as its fuel source?

Unfortunately, Martyn didn't get a chance to ask. Not while he and Brian were shoved straight into the elevator and practically boxed in on both sides.

"Jeez, you would think I killed somebody!" His voice was a lot quieter than he meant it to be. But the meek caw he got from Brian confirmed the mutual feeling. Martyn's eyes locked on the small screen above the door.

11

12

13

"So... Gents!" Martyn attempted again. "Tell me! What's a fella like me doing in a place like this? I've never been to this part of the Crashlands-" He knew he was sounding panicked now with how fast he was speaking, "-but me and Brian here mean no harm! Just admiring the building!"

"Quiet, Craft. No more nonsense from you." One of the guards replied.

"Craft? Wait, wait my name isn't-" A ding cut Martyn off.

40.

They were on the top floor. Not a good thing in a situation like this.

Martyn's body was nearly tossed from the elevator with how hard he was pushed. He thankfully caught himself with his hands. "Fellas- You got the wrong guy! I'm being accused!" Martyn brushed his hands against his knees as he attempted to stand up. But his legs were frozen in place. "Oh come on!"

"CRAFT! I TOLD YOU TO NEVER STEP FOOT HERE AGAIN!" A loud, demanding voice chipped from behind him. "AND YET HERE YOU ARE, GETTING NEAR MY TERRITORY!"

Martyn looked over his shoulder to see... One very short, angry man. Sure he was put together! Martyn hadn't ever seen anyone walk around with a moss overcoat with blossoming azaleas and somehow pull it off- but it was pretty hard to take the man seriously when his face was a bright red and his hands were flailing around like mad.

Martyn couldn't help himself. He laughed. A dry, raspy, feeble attempt to get rid of the nervousness bubbling up in his chest. Only then did his legs choose to work as Martyn rose to the ground. "J-Just a second- Goodness!" He slammed a fist against his chest. "I think you may have the wrong person! My name isn't Craft!"

Martyn noted just how quiet Brian got. Normally the crow would be throwing his head back in a series of loud caws. But he was silent. And was he... Shaking?

"You? Not Craft?" The man got painfully close to Martyn. Big brown eyes bored straight into his soul. "Then why the hell do you have that THIEF of a bird with you, huh?! Craft had that same bird!"

And there it was. "Brian?? You're upset about Brian??" Martyn barely missed the shy coo that left his crow. "Ohh Brian. What did you steal?" Martyn turned to face the crow. Brian looked away with an ashamed noise.

"I'll tell you what he stole! That bird right there tried to make off with my clock!" The angry man jabbed a finger at Brian. "Nearly got away too! You better be glad E found you, not me! Ohh I woulda-"

"Enough!" Martyn pushed the other back. "Whatever Brian tried to take, he failed at it alright? You kept your clock and this "Craft" person clearly is not here to take it from you!"

The man stared between himself and Brian, not seeming to know who to be angry at. Then the man shut his eyes, let out a deep sigh, and clenched his fists.

"You're right! You're right. I apologize." He extended his hand to Martyn. "Let's... Let's try this again. Hi, I'm Bdubs. Operator of the Clocktower and mayor of Dia Bombia." A genuine smile crossed Bdubs' face. "And you are?"

Martyn promptly ignored his hand. "Martyn. Now, can you explain to me what logic ran through your head to have your little buddies over there grab me?" He still didn't like how he was treated. "If you're going to toss me around like I'm some dummy, I'd at least appreciate dinner first! Yeesh!"

A nervous laugh. "Well, I thought you were Craft. Philza Craft. He and I are... How does one say... Not the best of terms. He had his little thief-"

"His name is Brian."

".. Had little Brian attempt to steal my clock. Going on about being a King or something?" Bdubs shook his head. "Doesn't matter. All that matters is, I really don't like your little Brian buddy."

Philza Craft. A new name to remember. Martyn patted the top of Brian's head with his mechanical arm. "Well. I... Don't exactly see Brian stealing something like that. I mean... He's a crow. Clocks may be shiny but they're far too bulky." He then stared at the three clocks dangling from Bdubs' neck. "... Are you a collector or?"

"Me? A collector?" Bdubs shook his head. "No, no, E would kill me! Too much junk already taking up the floor. These are just gifts. Always gotta keep things close in this world!"

A nervous caw drew his attention from the blabbering man. Brian seemed much more nervous around here. Wings were fidgeting, hoping around on his shoulder more, cawing less than normal. Something about Bdubs was making his crow upset. And something made Martyn believe it wasn't guilt.

"Anywhooo-" Two hands clamped onto his prosthetic. "This right here doesn't look all that good! I got a guy here who can help you get a fancy one!" Martyn was half tempted to sock the guy right in the face for insulting the rather new arm. But... The new guy could also be The Doctor. That meant he was one step away from going back home.

"Are you doing this out of guilt?" Martyn watched the man's body go tense. Poor guy sucked at holding a poker face.

"Do not question my generosity! It's rather rude, wouldn't you agree? Anyways, as I was trying to say. I have a guy here who can fix up your arm, good as new! Make it run off of the very carbon in the air, that's how smart he is!"

"Carbon, ey?" Martyn clenched his prosthetic's fist. That would be a pretty decent upgrade. He hadn't had luck in finding that Parrot Flight Master, so anything carbon based would help out severely.

"Exactly! And while I'm at it, I'll add in a personal explanation to Dia Bombia! And about MCC, whatever you wish! Hell, I could ask Scott himself to give you a great explanation of how that worked. He's a genius, I tell you!"

.

.

.

"SCOTT?!"

( @hermitadaymay )

[justcallmecj]

Another Player Enters The Game

 MASTERLIST ~~ PREVIOUS ~~ NEXT

      "Ugh, I don't believe this. Of all the rotten luck..." Mammon grumbles. He pushes open the gates to the House of Lamentation. It's an old house, looks haunted and creepy with the full moon shining through the dead trees in the front yard. But the lights are on and fill the windows with a welcoming light. Actually kinda comforting. Mammon continues forward.

        "Why should I have to look after some human? It's insulting, that's what it is!" he exclaims. "That rotten bastard... Does he really think he can scare me into doing whatever he wants?" He cards a hand through his fluffy hair. I really want to pet his head! 

        "I mean, you unfortunately don't have a choice. I saw how you were when Lucifer threatened you." I said to him. He turned around violently and slammed his hands on his hips again. "HEY" he yelled out. He looked like he was ready to stand there and beat me up, Lucifer's orders be damned. But he took a moment to think things through first. He huffed out a calming breath and glared at me.

        "Just so we're clear...it's not like I can't say no to Lucifer, okay?!" Yeah, sure. Your actions say otherwise, but its fair, he was pretty scary in that moment. "I only agreed to babysit you because, um...Well you know, because...uh..." He struggled to find the right words to say. Finally, he decided that he didn't need to come up with a good excuse.

        "Anyway, it doesn't matter! Just don't go thinking that I'm scared of Lucifer or anything! Because I'm not!" His right foot stomped on the ground as if to emphasize his point. Yeah, and I can dream at night. See? We're both lying to ourselves.

        I looked Mammon straight into his blue eyes with the most bored, deadpan look I could muster. "Honestly, I really don't care." My voice stayed level and devoid of any emotion, a huge feat for me honestly.

        Mammon's face went wide with shock, and he stumbled a step back. Whatever resolve he made about not beating me earlier wash away from his mind and he glared daggers at me.

        "WHAT?! Oh, now you're in for it..!" His hands clenched into fists, but then he faltered for a split second. His expression turned contemplative, and then thoughtful. "...Although, come to think of it, I'm surprised you've got the guts to talk to me like that. You're not scared?" he asked.

        Oh Hunny, you're about as scary as a puppy compared to half the shit I've seen in nightmares.

        "I mean, I'm a demon. You do get that, right?" He looked at me skeptically, like he thought I actually hadn't understood everything about the situation I'm in right now. I wanted to say so many things, sarcastic things about the things I've encountered in my, like, 15 years of Dream Hopping experience. But, having so many normal human friends in my time, I've learned to keep my mouth shut about things like that.

        Instead, I gave Mammon a smile and nodded my head, opting to keeping my mouth shut. He eyed me up and down, trying to take in as much information about me as possible. Apparently, he didn't find much.

        "...Hmph. You're one strange human, I'll give you that." he said wearily. We had stopped walking at some point in the conversation, so I sped forward to be in front of him and turned back around. I smiled again and said, "I know! Thanks for the compliment, Hunny." I finished with a wink.

        Mammon stumbled back more than a few steps again. His face lit up red and he tried to cover it up with his hand. It didn't work to well. He stuttered and fumbled over whatever words he was trying to force out. I really couldn't help myself, laughing while barely trying to hide the fact that I was. I will never get over how flustered some people can get.

        Mammon steeled himself and took a deep breath, getting back whatever control he felt he had in this scenario. He pushed past me in, quick, long strides. "...Ugh, whatever. Let's move on." he mumbled under his breath, barely loud enough for me to hear.

        We finally made it to the doorway, Mammon pushing the doors open and wide with minimal dramatics. "This is the House of Lamentation. It's one of the dorms here at RAD." He swished around to look me in the eyes. His hands on his hips once more, and he continued with a proud face. "Well, it's not JUST one of the dorms. It's the dorm reserved for the council members," he ended with a flourish. Suddenly, that proud expression turned to one of annoyance and a bit of sadness I was able to pick up.

        "Lucifer, Asmo, and the others take every chance that can get to insult me," his voice got a touch quieter. "Callin' me scum, sayin' that I'm a money-grubber and stuff..." I felt the underlying emotions he was desperately trying to keep from showing. The genuine hurt he felt from his brothers' words. Poor thing. Must be hard to just take the cuts and not show the blood. Well, now I'm getting attached. Guess I know what I'm gonna meddle in later. 

        Mammon put back on the proud look from before, albeit, less convincing than before. "...but I'm an officer on the student council, same as them. The elite of the elite, top of the RAD social pyramid." He finally found it in him to smirk, the upset feeling from before dwindling. "In other words, I'm a big shot. A REAL big shot. Like, even regular big shots are impressed by what a big shot I am." Well, Mammon certainly got his point across somehow. But I am gonna need him to stop saying big shot, for my sake.

        His face lit up long enough to show how much his own words meant to him. Then it turned into a devilish smirk. "So don't you go thinking that I'm just some ordinary demon. I'm nothing like those other peons walking the halls here." His mind went off somewhere else in thought. My mind almost did the same if I didn't will it to stay just in case Mammon got down again. He then came back.

        "By the way, Diavolo is even MORE of a big shot. He's so important that he's got his own castle. That's why he doesn't live here with us." Well, that makes sense, he is the prince. "...Anyway, the long and short of it is that us seven brothers all live here together. Now, it's time I show you to your room..." Mammon stalled again so I took the time to actually take in the room I was standing in.

        I giant foyer, with two grand staircases leading to a second floor. There were two awesome looking dragon statues about halfway up each staircase. Paintings hung from the blue wallpaper walls, and light fixtures all throughout. I caught sight of a bulletin board to the right with flyers hanging on it.

        "Hey, don't just stand there with your jaw open. Hurry up, or I'm gonna leave you behind." He had apparently planned to walk off while I was distracted. "If there's something you wanna ask me, you'd best do it now."

        I wanted more time to look around and get a feel for the house and its aura before we went somewhere else. So, I took a risk, hoping I had enough info about Mammon's character to hopefully distract him for a moment. "What are your hobbies?" I asked. I just barely managed to hear Mammon's response about not having any, then listing off some things before tuning him out.

        Somewhere in the back of my mind, there was an itch. An itch I was all too familiar with. I always got that feeling at night, when people were asleep. That itch indicated a Dreamer. A pretty sleepy one at that. A person that dreamt a lot and vividly. It made me want to completely abandon the house tour with Mammon in favor of finding the Dreamer and stepping into whatever they could be dreaming.

        It was a familiar feeling, but with a new edge and aura to it. It was exciting, and it felt much more conscious than what I was used to.

        What snapped me back to the here and now was Mammon snapping his finger in front of my face. He snapped continuously until he was sure I was paying attention to him.

        "I was talking to you, you damn human!! If you're gonna ask me somthin', actually listen to my words!" he shouted, annoyed. I laughed and apologized. I still wasn't completely back in the foyer, but I was able to pay attention to Mammon once again.

        "Now, I'm gonna give a piece of advice, so listen up." his face only looked mildly serious. "If you wanna survive even a day in the Devildom, you'd better listen REAL close to what I'm about to say." I hummed and nodded to show I was listening.

        "If it ever looks like a demon is about to attack you...run away. Either that or die." He hmphed at the end of his sentence. I won't have to worry too much about getting attacked. If something goes awry, I have a few tricks I've been itching to use to get out of that scenario. Before my thoughts could go any further, a new voice spoke in the empty room.

        "How about this? I vote for YOU to die, Mammon." the voice said. I turned to the right to see a new person walk towards me and Mammon. I immediately noticed his purple hair and orange eyes. He wore the same uniform the other brothers did, so I can only assume that he's one of them. He looked thoroughly pissed off. I thought he may be mad at me, until I followed his line of sight and saw he was staring at Mammon.

        Mammon sputtered for a quick second. "D'ah...! Levi..." he managed. He scrambled for a distraction, which he apparently found in me. "...Uh, l-listen up, human! This here is Leviathan, the Avatar of Envy. He's the third oldest of us brothers." Ah, so I'm going up in numbers. Now I'm just missing the youngest, Avatar of Sloth. Wonder where he is?

        "Since his name's sorta hard to say, you can just call him Levi! Okay then, let's move on." Mammon sped through the introduction as quick as he could, clearly not wanted to be stuck next to his younger brother any longer. Levi's angry expression only changed to show more annoyance.

        "Mammon, give me back my money. Then go crawl in a hole and die." Levi spouted. Money? Really, Mammon? But, as sucky of a move as that is, he is the Avatar of Greed. Something tells me it's impulse, but telling him to die right after? Far too harsh.

        Mammon pointed his head at the ground and dug his nails into his hips. "Come on, I told you I'd get it to you! I just need a little more time..." He paused. "...And you still want me to die even after I give it back? That's real harsh, Levi!" Agreed! At least he's trying, and there's nothing wrong with asking for more time.

        "You need a little more time? How much more?" Levi asked.

        "A little more, okay?! A little more means a little more!" A little redundant, but nothing wrong with that.

        Levi's face went slack with boredom. "You've been telling me that for the last 200 years, Mammon." ...oh, now I see.

        Mammon looked offended and put his arms in the air. "Hey, no! It's hasn't been 200 years! It's been 260! Get it right, Levi!" he corrected. You are not helping your case right now!!!!

        Levi closed his eyes, crossed his arms and growled in exhaustion. "Unbelievable. Seriously Mammon, you're-" Levi didn't get to finish his sentence. I felt as Mammon tensed, the same feelings he gave off earlier when mentioning his brothers' name calling came back.

        "I'm what? Scum? Is that what you're gonna say?" Mammon was genuinely upset, there was no denying that. Empathy kicked in again and I got mad on behalf of Mammon. Clearly, he wasn't actually going to do anything, so I planned on stepping in. Levi's spoke before I could.

        "-you're a lowlife and a waste of space." he said. That made my blood boil. Mammon responded immediately, like he's had this conversation before.

        "Hey! Come on, that's even worse!" he shouted. I saw as his brows curled up in hurt, his lips frowned as he searched his brother's expression for some sort of sympathy. He never found it.

        "Whatever..." Levi scoffed, "Just give me back my money." What the hell? How is he still on about the money? Can he not see how his words hurt Mammon?

        Levi's face suddenly lit up in excitement, an excitement that never should have popped up. "I need it to buy the Blu-ray box set of Journey to the Devildom: Tale of a Little She-Devil and Her Reluctant Companion. The initial round of copies includes promotional tickets to a live event as a special bonus." Levi smiled and giggled to himself like a little kid just itching to get his new favorite toy.

        Mammon looked at Levi incredulously. This clearly isn't his first time sitting through Levi's non-sensical raving about whatever that was. Wonder how well he'd put up with my own nonsense talk. If he ever finds me in that state, I'll have to watch his response.

        "I've go no idea what you're even talking about, Levi, but it doesn't matter! Because I don't even have the money to give you. How am I supposed to give back money I don't have, huh?!" It is pretty shitty to take someone's money and then not pay them back, but still doesn't excuse Levi's actions a couple moments ago.

        Levi's face turned sour again when he met Mammon's gaze. "So then, you're telling me you refuse to pay me back?" No?! He just told you he ain't got the money! That's a perfectly reasonable reason to not pay up!! Levi spoke slowly and dangerously, like he was ready to throttle Mammon. Mammon(reasonably) got defensive despite his astonishment.

        "...What? You looking for a fight, is that it?" Mammon reared up and ready. I couldn't take it any longer. I had to step in before someone got hurt.

        "Hey! Stop it, you ain't got no right to put Mammon down like that!" Mammon's own emotions still rolled off him, giving me plenty of fuel to keep going. "Plus, he gave you the reason about the money. He can't give you something he doesn't have, and he sure as hell didn't refuse anything." I stepped forward and stood in between Mammon and Levi, leaving only a bit of space for them to look at each other.

        Levi considered me, like he had only just realized that I was there. Looking me up and down, he didn't seem happy that I had gotten in the way.

        "What's the deal with this human you've got here with you? Are they your newest sponsor or something?" He wasn't amused. RUDE!! HE JUST COMPLETELY IGNORED EVERYTHING I LECTURED HIM ABOUT!!!! From behind me, Mammon scoffed and crossed his arms.

        "Wha...no! I'd need someone rich enough to support me. Don't be crazy." Again, RUDE! I may not be rich but I'm not poor. Jesus Christ. "Though, now that I think about it....Levi, I'm pretty sure this one likes to collect the same stuff that you do. I bet you'd kill to have some of the stuff in Y/N's collection. You know what I'm talking about...those doll things you always buy. What do you call 'em again?" he smirked, feigning confusion.

        Gasp!! How did he know about my collection!?!?! Did I mention something about it?? NO! I don't think I did, anyway... SO HOW DID HE KNOW!?!

        Levi deadpanned again. "Figurines," he finished for his older brother.

        "Yeah, those!"

        Levi turned to me, more consideration in his eyes. "So, you also collect figurines?" I nodded.

        "Yep, I have for years now, since I was a teenager." I said with a proud smile. Levi's face did a full 180 and changed to pure excitement. He rushed forward and grabbed my hands in his own, coming really close to my face.

        "Which ones? Ooh, do you have any of the main characters from Battle Princess Brigade? Or Girls Only, or Diamond Dust?" He listed off names of animes I've never even heard the name of. I've got plenty of figurines, among other things, from popular animes/games and a few lesser known ones, so either his taste is really far out of my genre, really rare, or the Devildom has its own animes to watch.

        "Nope." A simple answer.

        Levi's face went neutral. "..." Long moments of silence followed. Suddenly, he jolted in shock.

        "...Hold on a second!" While still holding my hands, he looked around the room, from left to right, searching for something. I kept staring into his eyes. I've never seen orange eyes before.

        "You've got to be kidding me...!" he sighed, "That ass Mammon ran off!" Finally tearing away from his eyes, I conducted the same search he had. He was right, while Levi was gushing to me about his anime, Mammon took the chance and ran off. I can't be too mad, I would've done the same thing honestly.

        Levi looked down and finally realized that he had grabbed my hands. His face lit up a bright pink and he went wide eyed. He scrambled back a step or two and held his hands against his chest. Flustered, he looked up at me. I didn't mind the hand holding. I just smiled at him. He, while getting flustered again, readjusted himself and steeled his nerves. Then his face got serious again.

        "Do you realize what just happened? Mammon used you as a distraction to get away from me...Or maybe I should say he used you as a sacrifice. You make it sound like he did something evil. I've done the same thing to my friends before, and people have done the same thing to me in dreams. I don't care.

        "I'll admit that Mammon is one of the scummiest scumbags you'll ever meet..." Is scummiest even a real word? Eh, what do I know? Also, BE NICE TO YOUR BROTHER GOD DAMN IT. "..a total lowlife. But still, that was pretty dumb of you letting him use you like that." Levi said.

        To be fair, I kinda figured that was what he was planned. The smirk after playing dumb? Total setting someone up move, Levi just didn't notice it.

        Levi sighed. "This is EXACTLY why humans are-" I swear if you insult me right now, I will NOT hesitate to sucker punch you. "...Wait a second. Humans...yes, that's it...Suddenly, I've got an idea." The look on Levi's face showed that is was more of a scheme than an idea.

        "Listen, are you free right now?" Levi rolled his eyes and answered his own question. "Of course you are. You've gotta be, right?" He only contemplated the idea that I may be busy for a split second. "You know what? Never mind. Either way, you're coming with me.

        Levi grabbed my hand and started pulling me through the seemingly never-ending halls of the house. Along the way, my D.D.D buzzed in my back pocket. I pulled it out and found the text message from Mammon.

Mammon: Hey, I suddenly remembered I have some business to take care of. So, if you need something, just ask Levi.

        He sent a sticker of a demon dancing and winking.

Mammon: Oh, and just to make sure...Don't go around tellin' stuff to Lucifer, ya got that?

        The next sticker was of a demon surrounded by an evil aura, akin to that of the one both Satan and Lucifer adopted at some point in our conversation earlier that day.

        I sent a sticker of a demon with the word "OK" on it. I didn't want to give Mammon anything more to fuss about than he already did, plus I had no intention telling Lucifer in the first place.

        Mammon sent another sticker. This one was a demon with a devilish look blowing a kiss. I book marked that sticker in my mind to use later. I put the phone back in my pocket. When I looked up, Levi had stopped us in front of a door. He looked left and right repeatedly, trying to see if the two of us were alone. When he believed us in the clear, he grabbed me again and pulled me inside, shutting the door behind us.

In case you're wondering, no, I don't hate Levi. As much as I made Y/N get mad at him in this chapter, I do adore Levi. But you have to admit, his words towards Mammon are unreasonably harsh (plus I just really want to protect Mammon).

[rocksinmuffin]

Human stumbles up Alucard's (Castlevania) castle after being chased there? Or maybe a classic beauty and the beast situation?

You can’t run much longer. Your breath is short and your limbs are aching and the only reason you’re not dead on the ground right now is because the demon chasing you is still playing with you. You’re so tired and you know the demon must be growing bored of this game and if you don’t clear the woods and find safety soon then you’re going to die a very painful, gruesome death.

When you clear the woods, there’s not a village but a castle. The impaled human bodies on spikes are not the most welcoming sight but you’re in no position to be picky.

You run full body into the heavy door in your desperation, fists pounding as you scream bloody murder.

“HELP! PLEASE LET ME IN!” You screech, knuckles bruising from the force and frequency with which you continue to slam against the thick wooden frame. “IT’S GOING TO KILL ME IF YOU DON’T LET ME IN PLEASE!!! PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, HELP!!!!!!”

At this point you’re slamming your shoulder into the door, putting the weight of your entire body into every desperate thrust. Your shoulder is almost as sore as your throat.

You don’t dare look behind you. You don’t want to know how close the demon is. If death has to come for you then let it catch you by surprise and let it be quick.

Yet you cannot stick to your resolve when you feel the hot rancid breath against the back of your neck, or when you see the clawed hand of a beast dig a mark into the door before trailing down to your jaw and slowly turning you to face it.

You’re going to die, you think as you stare into its soulless eyes. Perhaps this time would be better used praying, asking for repentance and forgiveness and welcoming arms to the kingdom of heaven, but if god has not already abandoned you then you wouldn’t be here in the first place.

You feel the spray of blood hot against your face before you see it. You watch in wide-eyed shock as, slowly, the demon’s head slides off its neck to land wetly by your feet. Its body soon follows.

You turn back around and there stands your savior; a tall man with fair skin and pale golden hair. His eyes are a brighter gold than his hair, sharp and gleaming. He is handsome, even with the blood staining his front and the dour scowl he directs towards you.

“You interrupted my sleep,” he says flatly. Like he didn’t just save your life and splatter a mess of gore all over the both of you.

“I’m… I’m sorry?” You don’t really know what else you can say.

In the face of your timid, shaken state, he seems to soften. The sharp look in his eyes dulls to something that resembles concern as he glances you over.

He sighs. “Well, let’s not have it be for nothing. Come in. Let’s get you some tea.” Then, as an afterthought, he says, “You look terrible.”

You don’t say anything, but you do take his offered hand as he leads you into the castle.

[august-writing]

Crash course intro - draft

Kinda just imagining a fun scenario to put Edmund and Rhyin through together

Rhyin glanced around at the space craft's arched walls with glowing panels flashing red. A low wail rattled through the floor. The window blurred against the rushing air as a sound like thunder beat against them from all sides. The floor vibrated up into his bones, jarring him like a pebble in an earthquake.

"We're gonna crash." Rhyin braced himself against the railing.

"Ah," Edmund said, "first time?"

"Can you reverse it?"

"If you're cool enough. Like me." A series of sharp clicks followed the wave of his hand as he neatly flipped a row of switches. "Lucky for you you're with me." Lacing his hands together behind his head he swiveled the chair around to face Rhyin, an eyebrow cocked in triumph. 

The craft halted in the air and sent Rhyin forward into the railing. It shuddered a moment, a buzz surging through the panels, and fell back into its flight to the ground. A cheery error message hummed.

"How was that supposed to help?"

Edmund sighed and turned back to the switch board, squinting at the display screen. "I knew I was cheated."

"Do you know how to work this?"

"How else could I get us this high in the air." 

"If we can't fix this we are going to slam into the earth and the weight of this metal box with crush to death." Rhyin's grip tightened as he leaned forward to emphasize his point.

Edmund raised his eyebrows, gaze still fixed in his task. "Take a seat there and pull that break stick down." He gestured to beside him. "Hold it as far down, focus on it."

"You broke that. Remember?"

"Ah, you're more observant than I thought." 

"You're trying to keep me distracted." 

"It would be easier for me to focus—" He pronounced the words in time with his deliberate typing. "—if I didn't have your critique to ignore."

The error message hummed once more

Rhyin frowned and took a seat. "But what are you doing?"

"Supposedly there's an extra set of wings. They should act as a buffer enough to get control." Edmund's tone was nonchalant as he frowned at the screen. "The problem is, the man I bought this from has included a password. Rather creative but a little overkill." 

"Why would he do that?"

"Well I'm not the most popular guy apparently."

Rhyin snorted.

"I know, hard to believe. It took a few years for me to accept it." 

"So this is it then. If you can't give the password we're dead."

Edmund hummed absently. "There are options. Press that green one right there, yeah the biggie." 

Rhyin obliged him, an eyebrow lifted in quiet question. The lighted panels flashed blue in a wave sweeping from each side of the craft, spreading through the backlight of the control boards and meeting at Edmund's display screen. The computer hummed as its face lit up.

"What's that."

"The whole thing is riddled with bugs. And I'm kind of bored with dismantling all the ridiculous stuff he "updated it" with. I'm going to start it over. Let's try the old turn it off and on trick." He gave him a quick grin as he punched something into the keyboard above his head.

"Wait, is that a good idea? Won't that kill us faster?" Visions of the ship crashing into itself, exploring in the air, burning through the clouds, hitting cities and bringing death in its path filled his sight. It would not be a pretty end.

"Oh we won't suffocate instantly. Especially if we put these oxygen masks on." Edmund's free hand searched blindly by the side of his chair. "Eh, they're somewhere around. You'll have to find them." 

Rhyin slipped out of his seat and onto the floor just under the control panels. Compartments lined the lower wall, their doors flesh with each other. He banged his fist against the corner. 

"Don't break anything important looking. I'm thinking about selling this off." 

An extra thud popped the door open enough to let his fingers get a hold and pry the rest of it. Three packets hung in a row along the top above a case with a red cross symbol. Rhyin grabbed it all and crawled out and back into the chair. Edmund spared him a glance and a nod.

"What do I do with these?"

"Open them. Just tear the packaging, I bet it's a disposable type." He gave a snort. "He's so cheap."

Rhyin ripped the plastic outside and the contents dropped into his lap revealing cartoon instructions and a mesh cloth face mask. He gave the package a shake and a chipdrive freed itself from the corner.

"So the good news is that we're coming up to the outpost satellite station on our right." Edmund reached over and picked up the mask. With one hand he slid the chipdrive into the pocket along the side. "Put that on and hand me the other one."

"And we can land in there?" Rhyin handed the package over while hooking the loops over his ears and pulling it up over his nose. He turned to check on Edmund and found him already masked with one arm draped over the back of the chair.

"No, but we can ride their gravity field around and use up our speed." 

The craft jerked to the right, pulling forward to the outpost and sending Rhyin sideways out his chair.

"Ready steady here we go. Now it's shutting off." 

The computer chirped an obnoxious high note and the lights went to a low orange for a moment before plunging them into dark. The background buzz and rattle cut quiet leaving only the roaring wind outside. An eternity of tension stuck in the empty black.

Edmund drummed his fingers on the edge of the control panel, a nervous ticking in the space dropped between death and fire. Blood soaking ashes.

A harsh hum caught like fire in the engine and shook up the floor. Blue lights swept through the system, like a sunrise bringing hope. Lines chased each other across the panels of the wall like arrows pointing to Edmund's display screen. The same obnoxious chirp sounding as the screen lit a blinding white against the dark craft. 

"Please connect to the web to continue your setup," an inhuman voice stuttered.

"Oh come on, seriously." Edmund threw his hands into the air. "Why is this still a feature?"

"Um. What is a web." Rhyin gripped the side of his seat.

Edmund hunched over the screen, brow furrowed as he typed. "Nah it's fine I'll just break into the wifi."

"Hello, I'm starbeetle075," the voice continued. "The United Galaxy welcomes you on the first steps of your exciting adventure."

"Is it giving us a speech?" 

"Would you like to begin your tour of the new craft?"

"No, no, tell it to stop." Anxiety bled into the rise of Rhyin's tone.

"Ehh, tell me later." The rhythm of Edmund's drumming picked up speed and detail.

"Okay then." The voice glitched into that of a cheery woman's. "First we'll run through a safety check."

"No. What? That's not what 'later' means." Edmund leaned forward, teeth gritted as if he was wrangling a wild beast.

A chart flipped on to the display, outlining glowing boxes. "Life support; working. Self gravity; working. Engine one; working. Engine two; working."

The craft launched forward with renewed speed, sending Rhyin's head slamming into the back of his chair. Edmund jerked backwards. He rode the momentum, rolling under the control board.

"I hate this thing." He hit his fist against the upper panel, popping it open and spilling colored cords out into his waiting hands.

"Engine three; working." The craft barreled forward without heed to either passenger.

Rhyin wanted to scream.

"How do we stop it?"

A tsking came from Edmund's general area. "I can't get into it during this protocol."

"Stabilization; working." The most horrid noise Rhyin heard blared from the inhuman voice. "Breaks; nonfunctional." A red box flashed in the display, blinking for help. 

"Edmund? Edmund?!" 

"This craft is not fit for flight. Disengage and depart." The screen blinked dark before glitching into a warped red and blue. Flashing in and out.

Edmund jumped up to his feet, hitting his head on the control board's edge on the way up.

"Well now that that's over maybe it'll help." He hit the side of the display screen, scattering the glitches like leaves across water, and went to work on the buttons.

"Secondary flight running. Wind buffet opening."

The craft lurched, as if yanked and flung to the side. A groan eased against the roaring tempest pressing on the walls. 

"You ready to crash?" Edmund leaned back against his chair, smirking casually at Rhyin.

"Wait what? I thought you were stopping us from crashing!" Rhyin sat taught and braced in his chair. As if every nerve was strung tight and cooled into iron.

"Oh, no. There's no way to avoid it but maybe we won't die in the process."

Rhyin bit down on his lip and locked his eyes forward. "What is your plan?"

"Well we're being pulled on by the outpost's gravity field—which we're getting out of range of, mind you—and if I cut the engines…"

The roaring bit off, spitting a hiss.

"Why did you not turn them off earlier." Rhyin felt static rage buzz across his blood, racing across his taught nerves.

Edmund shrugged. "I was turning on a different setting."

Rhyin redirected his sight to his comrade, piercing at Edmund's wandering gaze.

"But now we're sitting between the grip of two gravities, which will tear us apart. But luckily we're dropping out of the outpost. They're wifi was too slow, I'm not a fan."

"So now we just fall and hope to not die."

"Hm, yeah. It'll be fun, don't worry. We just jump before it explodes."

"Explodes."

"It'll be fun."

A shrieking gripped itself to the side of their craft, jostling it in its path. Cloud smoking passed in seconds as the planet surface came into view. And grew in detail by the second, revealing their destination to be a wasteland of sand and dust. As good as any for a graveyard. The sound reached through and sunk into Rhyin's ears, hollowing the world of sound and washing a quiet into its place.

Rhyin sucked his breath in. Holding out his heartbeat, slowing the pounding rhythm out to a calm. A gentle pulse. 

The craft made contact with the ground with a nudge. Lapsing back as if caught in a haze before settling into the sand. White noise slowly claimed the eerie quiet as it sifted into reality. Rhyin let out his breath. He glanced at Edmund who sat stunned. 

The front of the craft just beyond the glass exploded into smoke.

"Oh I guess we didn't avoid the explosion." Rhyin eased off his grip on his chair.

"We didn't crash." 

"What?" He glanced toward Edmund.

"I—" Edmund blinked as if he just woke up. "I don't know what just happened, but we didn't crash. We slowed down."

Smoke curled against the glass and faded out and above in the air.

"Maybe all those stories about someone looking out for people are true. I think we got handed a freak miracle." 

[nicawlette]

RELATIONSHIP BUILDING ( old as fuck )

@nobully asked: 😙 yeah sure when pigs fly

( yeah... lmao... no way, right?? )

😙 for my muse’s reaction to yours being super affectionate.

The first one goes down with a single punch and it'd almost be embarrassing if she hadn't made sure to strike hard enough the first time. The second manages to get a lucky hit in, fist grazing her chin before Nicolette turns out of the way and kicks a leg out, heel slamming into his jaw. Once he hits the ground, neither of them make any move to get up.

❝ Oooi, is that really it? ❞ She scoffs, stepping close before squatting down beside a head. She leans over his face, inspecting the broken nose gushing blood down grimacing mouth. It's at that moment that the man on the ground coughs, sputtering around the fluid and effectively spewing it into her face. ❝ What the Hell?! ❞ She shrieks, standing up quickly and backing away as scarred hands scrub at her eyes. ❝ That is so fucking gross! Ew! EW!! ❞ It's not the first time she's been covered in blood, but she's usually more prepared for it. Being coughed on is so not cool or sexy!

It must be obvious that she's about to start throwing a fit, because Wang Yi decides to move closer from where he'd been watching, invading her space. Bemoaning ceases as he takes hold of her face, wonderfully tender in the way his palms cradle both cheeks. ❝ Wangyyy, ❞ The familiar pet name spoken with a pitiful whine as Nicolette relaxes into the touch, ❝ get it off— hurry, please! It tastes gross! ❞ Lips are practically dyed crimson, stained by a drop dipping past cupid's bow.

❝ Yeah yeah, I'm working on it. Be good and sit still, I'll handle it. ❞ It sounds like a scold, but the corners of Wang Yi's mouth curl up with something like fondness, or perhaps amusement, as his eyes grow dark with interest. He's always liked the sight of her dressed in blood.

Two-tone hues are both pleading and intense boring into his own before she obediently closes them. He runs his thumbs gently through long lashes and over flushed cheekbones, smearing the evidence across her fair skin. She feels one brush slowly over delicate cupid's bow and seam of her lips, and they part slightly as if on command. When her eyes flutter open, Nicolette finds— to her immense satisfaction— that Wang Yi's attention seems to be directed elsewhere. The pad of his thumb rests at the corner of her mouth as it upturns into a smile, and surely he feels the movement, just as he can see it happening.

❝ What are you looking at so hard? ❞ She asks, voice quiet in the space between them while Wang Yi tracks plush lips forming around the words. The silence might as well be an answer. The smile grows, eyes crinkling slightly at the corners— a telltale sign of its sincerity. ❝ Am I pretty, Yiyi? ❞

His instinctual response has him arching a brow, eyes rolling at her fishing. ❝ Obviously, ❞ he answers, but then Wang Yi looks at her— really looks, and seems enraptured all over again. ❝ You look beautiful like this... ❞ A compliment she's used to hearing, but spoken without a hint of irony from one whose sole focus she always aims to capture— Nicolette can't help the way heart jumps and blush darkens, crawling towards her ears.

❝ Like what? ❞ And it's accompanied by the hint of laughter. A barely there giggle, like an exhale. ❝ Covered in blood or smiling? ❞

❝ Both. ❞ He doesn't even have to think about it, but his cheeks grow warm with his overt honesty, anyway. He traces over her bottom lip, reveling in the plush softness as he drags it down slightly. ❝ And, yes, all the time, too— before you ask. ❞ Because he knows her well enough to guess exactly what she's thinking when her lips part wider to speak.

Nicolette preens, shortening the distance as she leans in a little closer, peering up at him with imploring eyes. ❝ You're supposed to be helping me wipe it off, remember? ❞ It lacks all displeasure, and Nicolette contradicts her own suggestion by allowing pink tongue to dart out and lick the pad of his thumb clean. ❝ It still tastes bad, ❞ a complaint, ❝ won't you give me something else to taste, Wang Yi~? ❞ And an invitation.

Wang Yi hardly appears put off by the idea. ❝ Oh yeah? And how do you suggest I do that? ❞ He returns her teasing without missing a beat, digging thumb further into the curled corner of her mouth. His other hand prods at the bruise on her chin before tucking a strand of violet hair behind an ear. Her responding pout only encourages him, and he eliminates the distance between them just enough to press his lips to the tip of her nose.

There's a fluttering in her stomach as Nicolette releases a soft sigh, drowning in the warm affection that still feels new and addicting every time it's exchanged. It leaves her unsteady and high, spoiled enough to always seek out more. ❝ Come on... that's the wrong spot. ❞ With a murmur she tilts her head up, breath ghosting over his face with each word as they share the same air. ❝ If I'm gonna taste blood, I'd rather it be yours, anyway. ❞

The sentiment is shared, but it pleases him all the same. Wang Yi uses his sleeve to finish the job, hands falling way from her face only once he's satisfied. One slides to the bare expanse of her nape while the other fits into the curve of Nicolette's waist. ❝ There— perfect, good as new. Would've been quicker if you were patient. ❞ They both know he's full of shit.

She giggles when Wang Yi bends slightly to brush the curve of his nose and lips against her temple to her hairline, head tilting to match his movements while she grabs for him: scarred fingers wrapping around a wrist and arm encircling his neck. ❝ Stop being mean to me, ❞ says a voice wavering with giddiness. ❝ Heartless man. ❞

❝ So spoiled. ❞ Chastises her cruel lover at the same time he gifts an open-mouthed kiss to blooming bruise. But he must be feeling impatient too, because Wang Yi submits to her insistent tugs closer and finally wipes the grin off her face, replacing every taste with that of his own.

[screamingatanemptyroom]

“This job is boring.”

The young man leaned back on his stool with a sigh. His guard uniform, poorly fitting, made him appear even younger than his actual age. His cap sat too low on his head, and he had to keep reaching up to push it back to be able to see.

The older man sitting across from him laughed. “That’s a good thing in this line work, kid.” He stared up at the cold night sky with a wry grin, “It’s when things are interesting that you have to worry.”

“You say that, but I never really wanted a guard job.” The younger man pulled out his magical artifact, rolling the gold crusted wand between his hands. The casual motion seemed at odds with the expensive appearance of the item, but he seemed to give it no thought, even tossing it a bit from side to side in his boredom. “I graduated in the top third of my class in the Royal Academy. I was offered a great position in the army.”

“Then why didn’t you take it?” The older guard watched the clouds slowly cover the full moon, frowning as it slowly draped the area around the entrance they guarded in darkness. The magically lit lamps seemed all too dim against the oppressive night air. His breath began forming clouds in the air, which surprised him, he hadn’t realized it would be that cold tonight.

“The wife.” The young man groaned, leaning back even further until he was in danger of falling from his seat. “She’s pregnant with our first, and said she’d kill me if I went ‘gallivanting off to war while she grew my child in her body’.”

“Smart lady, trying to save your naïve hide.” The darkness around them deepened, it became harder to see past a few yards. “Young men like you are little more than cannon fodder in the war. No use you dying just so our king can get his hands on better magical ore.”

“You sound just like my wife.” He rolled his eyes. “Now I’m stuck here, guarding this stupid building.”

The older guard frowned at that, still watching the darkness. “It’s not stupid. This artifact has the power to take down the city.”

“Only if you had someone powerful enough to use it, which there hasn’t been in thousands of years! Any thief who stole it would be left with an expensive looking paperweight and a price on their head.”

“Let’s hope we never have to test that.”

They fell into uncomfortable silence for a few minutes. The older man stared into the night, not even the stars visible now, and felt a deep sense of unease. The sounds around them, birds, bugs, the wind through the alleys, the chatter of the night market nearby, all faded to silence. Realizing this, he stood up, clutching his artifact, a worn wooden club, in his hand.

“What are you…?” The younger man started to ask, only to be shushed by the older.

“Something is wrong.”

The darkness and the silence deepened, leaving this feeling of pressure, as if the air around them were solidifying. The guard tightened his grip on his artifact, terror slowly rising within his chest. He started a chant, the complex syllables getting tangled in his panic, but finally finished the spell successfully, allowing a light to shine from the end of the club.

It didn’t help, the extra light illuminated nothing, being sucked into the darkness and disappearing.

Finally, the young man lost patience. “WHO’S THERE?”

There was silence.

…

…

…

And then, the darkness answered:

“I am here.”

Both men were thrown back, slammed against the wall behind them, barely able to breathe against the crushing force holding them in place.

“The Earth is my Bone.” The voice spoke up once more, cold, precise, inhuman.

The ground underneath them rose up like a hand, slamming its fist of stone and earth against the door, crumpling it like tin foil rather than the reinforced magic metal it was.  A figure of darkness stepped forward, its presence sucking in the light around them.

“How is this possible?” The younger guard whispered, horrified at the magical cataclysm around them. “There’s no chants… no artifacts…”

“Call for backup!” The older man yelled, grabbing for the alarm artifact at his belt, trying to remember the associated chant to activate it. His fingers had barely brushed the metal, however, when he froze, feeling the gaze of the being on him.

“The Water is my Blood.”

A flood of water rose up from the broken ground, racing into the building, buckling its walls, shattering its windows. The two guards were carried away by the whirlpool, their weapons and alarms wrenched from their grasp.

The younger man could swim, but his older partner was not as lucky. Desperately he tried to keep his head above the water, but the current kept sucking him in.

The being of darkness stepped forward once more.

“The Air is my Breath.” It continued to speak, stepping past the broken entryway into the secure building.

A fierce tornado broke out it, tearing apart the surrounding walls until there was nothing left but a metal stand in the midst of debris, holding a glowing golden orb. The wind picked up the artifact, carrying it close to the being.

“NO!”

Despite the guard’s shout the being’s arm reached out, and from its hand darkness coated the artifact, as if placing it in a container of magic.

The younger guard screamed, but the air was pulled from his lungs and the sound died as soon as it rang out. He tried to take a breath, gasping, but there was nothing to breathe in. He could no longer see the older guard, his body had long since been dragged away by the now subsiding water. He tried to chant, to use his wand. He had always excelled at magic, but the words could not leave his lips.  His vision was darkening, but he could still see the glowing red eyes of the being as it tucked away the artifact it had stolen.

He thought of his wife, pregnant, waiting at home, and felt a moment of calm sadness in the midst of his panic.  Tears filled his eyes, only to be swept away by the magical wind.

This job was supposed to be safe.

“The Fire is my Spirit.”

The entire area erupted in large red flames, the metal and stones incinerated, their golden ashes flying into the cold winter sky.

The being turned away, leaving only a whisper behind.

“I am the Magic.”

The wind, earth, water and flames slowly receded.

“The Magic is Me.”

The clouds rolled back, allowing the full moon to shine once more. It illuminated the scattered wreckage of what once had been a magically secured building. The two bodies of the guards laid twisted, burned and torn on the ground, their artifacts broken into useless pieces besides them.

The being of darkness vanished, the golden artifact disappearing with it.

_______________________

“Rose.” Someone was shaking her awake.

Groaning, she slowly opened her eyes, swearing eternal vengeance on whoever was brave enough to try to wake her. Her blurry vision cleared as she rubbed her eyes and focused on the serious face in front of her.

That can’t be right. She thought sleepily. Gadril is never serious. Her mentor was always smiling, joking around. Even when everyone else around him was sad, he never lost his grin.

He was frowning now.

“Get up.” His voice was barely above a whisper, his tone stressed.

Rose jumped out of bed, glad for once she had fallen asleep in her clothes after staying up too late practicing magic, and threw on a jacket.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, grabbing a piece of bread out of her stash before following him out the door. “Did someone die or something?”

Thump. Gadril stopped suddenly, and she bumped into him, almost falling backward if she hadn’t caught herself on the door frame in time. His eyes met hers, and she felt a burst of fear at the look in them. She hated that look. She knew it all too well.

It was the same look her father had the night he had died.

“I promised your father I would take care of you.” He spoke up again, his gaze slipping away to stare at something she couldn’t see. “To teach you magic, teach you to be able to protect yourself.”

“What’s going on?... You’re scaring me.”

“Good.” He looked at her again. “The Golden Sphere was stolen last night.”

If anything Rose felt more confused. “The ultimate artifact in the history books? Why would anyone steal that? What does that have to do with us?”

“It has everything to do with us… with you.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but hesitated. “But I’m going to do my best to make sure you stay out of it.”

He was walking again, the pace hard for Rose to keep up with given her shorter leg span. She trotted along, finally growing tired and whispering under her breath, pushing the air from her lungs.

“The Air is my Breath.” At her words, the air behind her moved, helping her to travel further with each step and keep up. Gadril felt her magic and frowned harder.

“I told you not to be frivolous with magic.”

“No, you taught me that I am the magic. It’s an extension of me and what I need to accomplish. Your long legs help you to walk too fast and magic helps me walk faster as well. It’s the same thing.”

“…You’re right, but you also don’t understand anything.” He ran his hand through his hair as he ducked into an alley, a shortcut that Rose wasn’t familiar with. “Magic out there isn’t what you think.”

They ran for what seemed miles of back alleys before coming to a halt by a non-descript door. Rose recognized the small carving on the side of it as Gadril’s insignia, a flame surrounded by chains. He put his hand on the door, muttering quietly and the insignia glowed bright red before the door swung open.

Inside was a small store room filled with treasure.

Rose stared, open mouthed and the gold and jewel haphazardly piled around. “Are you serious? You’re rich? I thought we barely had enough to eat!”

“We needed to stay low, and being rich is a bad way to do that.”

“Yeah, but definitely more comfortable.” She muttered, watching in confusion as he dug through the piles, throwing priceless objects haphazardly around in search of something. “What are you looking for?”

“This.” He pulled out a long dagger, the blade thin and needle-like. The hilt was wrapped in dark leather and the pommel set with a black jewel. Rose stared at the gem, feeling uneasy, it almost seemed like the space around the knife was somehow darker, as if the light around the jewel was being absorbed. Hesitantly, she reached out and took the offered weapon and hefted in her hand. It was lighter than she expected, and comfortable to hold.

“It’s an artifact. It was your father’s.” At his words she almost dropped the dagger, but after a moment tightened her grip on it. “He wanted you to have this.”

_______________________

“You’re worthless.” Her father looked at her with deep disgust, his eyes blurry from alcohol and lack of sleep. “Absolutely worthless... nothing like your mother.”

He threw his bottle down on the floor, and Rose shuddered with fear at the sound of crashing glass.

“Clean that up.”

_______________________

Rose glared at the dagger in her hand, and then at Gadril. “Liar. He hated me. He wouldn’t have wanted to leave me anything but debt and despair.”

Gadril sighed, his eyes sad. “Your father… was a complex man.”

“Not to me he wasn’t. He was supposed to be a parent. He wasn’t. He was supposed to take care of me. He didn’t. It doesn’t get simpler than that.”

“…I’m sorry, Rose.” His eyes stayed on hers, and she could see the sincerity in his gaze. “I won’t make his excuses for him. You don’t have to forgive your father, or trust him. Trust me instead. I haven’t steered you wrong yet.”

Rose was the first to look away, turning to study the dagger in her hand. “Why are you giving me an artifact? You told me these were worthless.”

“This is how the world uses magic.”

“Not you. Not me.” Her eyes glowed briefly with power “I AM the Magic.”

His hand dropped on her shoulder, his power smothering hers. “Stop it. Where you are going you will need to hide what you’ve learned. Pretend that artifacts are the only way to access your power.”  He moved back towards the door suddenly, as if listening for something.

“Where am I going?”

“SHH.” He shushed her, still staring out the doorway. After a long moment of silence, he finally spoke up again. “We have to keep moving. He’s almost found me.”

Who?!!! Rose was exasperated, but followed him out of the storeroom

Before she could ask more questions, the street in front of them exploded.

“FOLLOW ME!” Grabbing her hand, they raced down the street. His magic surrounded them, the wind pushing them forward at impossible speeds. Rose took a deep breath, steadying herself and moving with the magic. They ran along twists and turns, taking alleyways, to the point where she had lost all sense of directions. Finally, Gadril kicked open a door and dragged her inside. Turning, he placed his palms against the wood, whispering as the space filled with impenetrable stone.

Silently, they moved down stairs in the building towards the basement, only coming to a halt, breathless, as they were faced with a stone lined tunnel.

Gadril looked at her once more, and again Rose recognized the look, hated it.

_______________________

Her father was staring off at an open doorway with a sad smile. “I didn’t do right by you, did I? Your mother would kill me if she knew.” He paused. “Not that she will have a chance.”

Rose watched him, warily, unsure what his scheme was this time. Her father saw it, and laughed bitterly.

“No tricks, girl. Just saying goodbye. They won’t leave a body to bury, so no worries on that end. Just…” He reached out to put a hand on her head, stopping the motion as she pulled away. “…If you see your mother… tell her I love her.”

Rose shook her head, too confused to speak.

“Goodbye.”

Her father had been wrong. Whoever they were, they had most definitely left a body behind.

_______________________

“You look like you’re preparing to die."

Gadril froze at her words, and then laughed. “In a way, but I don’t plan on dying if I can avoid it.”

“Good, you still owe me money.”

His eyes were amused. “Like you didn’t steal a bunch of gold coins when we were in the storeroom.”

Rose put a hand on her pocket protectively. “That’s different, that’s the waking-me-up-early fee. You still owe me back the 15 coin I gave you for the cheese toasty last week.” Rose looked away. “So you better stay safe and bring it to me.”

She didn’t look back at him, refused to. But when she felt her mentor hug her, her eyes filled with tears despite her efforts to hold them back.

“Let’s both stay safe, okay?” Gadril whispered, then let her go. Stepping back, he handed her an envelope and pointed down the tunnel.

“Head that way, until you reach the end. Someone will meet you and take you the rest of the way. You will be enrolled at the Royal Academy as a special student. I’ve already set an identity for you.” He pointed to the envelope in her hand. “This has all the information you need. You are now the long last daughter of the Haren family.”

“Are you high?” Rose was frustrated. “You want me to pretend to be Noble? I’ll hang!”

“You’re more Noble than any of them. Don’t trust anyone who uses magic like us. Don’t trust anyone, but ESPECIALLY if they use magic like us.”

“What…?

A loud crash could be heard outside. Gadril pushed her towards the tunnel. “Go, Rose.”

Rose wanted to stay and talk, but hearing the explosions, and seeing the serious look in his eyes, turned and walked down the path instead.

“Remember Rose.” He called out after her. “YOU ARE THE MAGIC!”

There were silent tears clouding her vision, but her steps were steady and sure as she whispered back. “The Magic is Me.”  

It felt like goodbye, but Rose hoped to hell it wasn’t their last.

_______________________

“We have a new student, class! This is Rose, the long-lost daughter of the Haren family.” The teacher, Mr. Jentus, announced her identity with a bright smile, his words causing the class to devolve into whispers. Rose could make out a few of the mutterings, none of them complimentary towards her.

“A new student, in our senior year? Is someone sabotaging us?”

“I thought the last generation of the Haren family died?”

“I heard she’s a bastard.”

She sighed, feeling extremely tired.

“Do you have anything you’d like to say to the class?”

Lay low, Rose. Lay low.

“Not really. Just like everyone says: I’m the new student bastard child, back from the grave to sabotage your senior year with my bastardly undead ways.”

"..."

"..."

...Curse my sarcastic nature!

She noticed that only one of the students wasn’t staring at her, a blond-haired young man who was writing what looked like equations on the wall next to his desk, muttering to himself.

Well at least someone here seems normal.

Finally, the teacher spoke up. “Why don’t you take a seat, Rose?”

Giving a small sigh, Rose walked between the desks, idly stepping over a leg stretched out to trip her.  

“There’s a free seat here.” A handsome student reached out his hand, blocking her. His dark hair fell over his eyes, unable to block the intensity from his gaze. He had a magnetism to him, something that pulled Rose in, making her want to look closer, get as close as she could. “I’m James, by the way.”

His hand hung in the air, waiting for her to take it. She felt a pull within her, urging to grasp his hand with her own.

“...Thanks, I’m good.” She walked past, shuddering. She had an aversion to handsome, smooth-talking guys.

They reminded her of her piece of crap father.

She sat next to the muttering, equation writing student who ignored her.

Much better.

Settling into her desk with a sigh, she ignored the continued stares and whispers in her direction.

I hope Gadril is okay.

“Teacher?” One of the boys raised their hands. “How are we getting a new student in our senior year? There’s no way she’ll be able to keep up!”

Mr. Jentus just shrugged at the question. “She has a superior grade affinity for artifacts.”

The class broke out in whispers again. “You mean common grade?” Someone finally asked.

“You heard me, Jennifer. Superior grade. Easily. Making her the eighth in the history of the entire school to do so. One in a thousand talent. So she was assigned to the senior class given her special… circumstances, and will be given one on one tutoring to allow her to catch up.”

The rest of the class passed peacefully after that, although the stares would continue for the rest of the day.

_______________________

 A practical lesson was had after the classroom. The students all lined up in a magically fortified clearing in the forest outside of the school. Each of them carrying their artifacts, which seemed to come in all shapes and sizes.

Rose held her own, trying to restrain her frustrating.

This method of magic is so inefficient. She had caught on easily enough. After being brought to the school they had placed her hand on a measuring orb and had her read off an incantation. It had taken only a few seconds to realize that the artifact and the words were acting as a conduit for magical power. As someone who had always been taught to BE the conduit, and only use words to set the mind into the right state to channel, it was simple enough to use a different object instead, but terrible, horribly weaker.

Even her weaker attempt had, however, caught the examiner off guard.

I suppose it’s just as well. She thought with a shrug. Otherwise they might have put me in with the freshmen.

Spying the young man who had called himself James waving at her, trying to partner with her for the practical portion, she couldn’t help but sigh again. Then again, maybe the freshman class wouldn’t have been so bad.

She pretended not to see his intense stare and walked away to stand next to the student she had dubbed “Equation Boy.” He was using his artifact, a long staff, to draw in the dirt. Of course, the subject of those drawings was more equations. Rose came to the conclusion that this man must be a huge magical theory nerd.

Watching his work, she couldn’t help but speak up. “You dropped an ‘x’ there.”

Equation boy paused. He didn’t turn, didn’t speak, just stared intently at his work as if searching for the error. Rose pointed again. “Right there. I only saw it because the pattern seemed off.” Rose knew some magical theory, the building of incantations to be a magical conduit, but mostly basic stuff. Gadril had explained some, but told her that it was unnecessary.

She was, however, very good at spotting patterns.

Equation Boy had already corrected the error, and filled out the rest of the equation quickly. Just as she felt he would not acknowledge anything had happened, she heard a quiet mutter.

“Thanks.”

She swore she saw a small smile flit across his face, but to be honest, it might have been wishful thinking. She smiled too, feeling she had done her good deed for the day.

She spent the rest of the class creating small whirlwinds via chants and her dagger per her teacher’s instruction, feeling drained by the horrific inefficiency of magical power use. As she worked, she couldn’t help but overhear the group of girls next to her, who were whispering furiously.

“Did you see that? Phillip smiled!”

“NO!”

“I saw it! He must have thought of something deep and important, he never smiles!”

“He’s so mysterious and intimidating!”

Who is Phillip? She glanced over at James, who had his own group of lackeys, the other boys in class who were evenly split between quietly practicing or roughhousing and then back at Equation Boy, who was ignoring the assignment, still muttering to himself and writing. It couldn’t be…

She shook her head. It’s not important. She had not heard anything from Gadril since he dropped her off at the tunnel. It had only been a few weeks since then, but it was the longest she had ever gone without seeing or hearing her mentor since he took over her care after her father died.

I need to know more. She thought of his words from that strange day. His fear and agitation. He talked about the Golden Sphere.

It was her only clue, and now that the school grounds were opened for the academic year, she would be able to go to the library and hopefully learn something more. Something that might help her understand why Gadril was so scared. Why he sent her away, instructing her to hide her identity and her powers.

She needed knowledge, first and foremost.

_______________________

After class, she walked away from the group, heading towards the library.

“Rose!” She heard James call out, and moved faster, pretending she couldn’t hear him. He called out again, but she ducked into the forest, and soon he was too far away to see her. As she was finally alone, she breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

This school is…tiring.

Rose paused, trying to catch her bearings….

Someone tackled her from behind.

CRASH!

A large heavier frame pushed her into the ground, forcing her face into the dirt. A black gloved hand reached out and snatched her dagger artifact, throwing it far away from them.

“Child of Chaos and Death.” A low voice spoke, filled with spite and hatred. “Now YOU are helpless. Squirming in the dirt like a worm. No chants or artifacts to save you.” He pressed on her neck from behind, cutting off her air. “Now, die!”

Even in the horror and shock of the moment, the pain of the attack, Rose couldn’t help but laugh. Her shoulder shook, but no sound came out, her windpipe slowly being crushed by the pressure.

“DIE!” The man behind her screamed, pushing harder, not realizing the source of her dark amusement.

Because he didn’t know.

He couldn’t have known.

He took away her artifact. He took away her ability to chant.

But she had never needed a conduit for magic.

She WAS the conduit.

The Earth is my Bone.

Her mind spoke silently, feeling the earth beneath her. It began to shake, large cracks began to form in the ground around them. Her assailant jumped, barely maintaining his grip on her head.

The Water is my Blood.

From the cracks water rose, the wave pulling the man off of her. Rose rolled over, catching a glimpse of a masked man, wearing non-descript black clothes. His artifact, a metal glove, had a spider insignia on it.

“The Air is my Breath.”

She whispered, and the wind responded, a hurricane much stronger than her tiny whirlwinds from practice earlier.

The man’s eyes widened. “You are an Apostate?" He tried to run towards her, but sunk into the ground, water surrounding him. "You will bring death to everyone!”

“Strong words for a man who just tried to kill an eighteen year old girl.” She grinned. “Even stronger for a dead man.”

“YOU…” He tried to curse at her, but the air was sucked out of his lungs by the wind storm, his face turned slowly purple as she watched.

“You should have never tried to hurt me. I wish I could spare you. Try to keep you alive at least. Interrogate you.” She looked around. “But I can’t risk anyone discovering what I can do.”

He shook his head violently. But Rose only continued to speak quietly.

“The Fire is my Spirit.”

Golden flames consumed him in a second, leaving nothing but ash.

“I am the Magic.”

She began to close the circuit, and the magic withdrew, healing the cracks in the earth, absorbing the water, calming the wind and extinguishing the flames.

“and the Magic… is me.”

She spoke the final words in a hoarse whisper, close to tears. She had been in fights before. Living in the wrong part of the Capitol, that was only to be expected. But she had never taken a life before.

“You had to.” She muttered, running her hand through her hair. “He was going to kill you. You had to.”

“Rose!” A shout came from far back. She couldn’t tell if it was friend or foe, but she wasn’t about to find out. Blinking back tears, she walked away briskly, heading towards her original destination: the library.

What a great first day in school. Already aced the surviving assassinations part. Can’t wait to see what the second one brings.

She moved quickly towards the library. The sooner she knew more, the better.

It was the only way to survive.   

You are a poor child going to a popular magic school at your mentors insistence, telling you to “broaden your horizon.” But when you get there you realise everyone is doing magic differently to what your mentor taught. They use silly chants and carry big ugly books around.

[okari-le]

Hidden Within The Shadows

Hidden inside the shadows

Within the dark, within the night, A person of some many not know is lurking, watching everyone's move as he stalks within the deepest pitch of the shadows that follow our every move.

But now may the darkness swallow the sun up, making the sky turn into a pitch with holes up high that glow.

Even after the moon has risen, it has slowly inched with the sun's path, blocking its generous rays of  sunlight of pure happiness, and made it shine behind the moon's back, causing a red tinge of so called aura.

A rare eclipse of where the day turns to a reddish black, of where a child’s cry was weeping when the shadow disappeared, of a world full of monsters and magic, where even Satan would bid on souls with God.

Where the kingdom’s king who has spread kindness turned to corruption, rid of its mortality out turn the much more devilious being that Satan and the other 6 sins, forever fear.

Chapter I - The Prince and The King

“Bring forth the thief..” an order went out, blasting through the echoing walls of the throne room. “As you wish, your highness..” a guard says, as footsteps took place and the wincing pain of a child could now be heard.

“So you're the peasant that stole goods from me? You thieving mutt.” the royal stated angrily at the young boy, the royal took up a stand with hands in fists.

“You'll pay for what you’ve done in this instance–” added the royal before they were cut off  by the king.

“QUIET!” shouted the king, slamming his fist down onto the arm of his throne.

“B-but father, they stole from us, wouldn’t you be furious too?” says the prince in pure fear.

“I know, i was the one who gave him the gold.” says the king as he stood up and walked in front of the small child.

“I apologise for the mistake young one.” the king said softly as he dismissed the guards and helped the child from the ground.

“But father!” the prince frantically says in a hurried voice, protesting his own father’s heart of choice.

“Go to your room..” coldly says the king, staring back at the prince with disappointment and anger. “Sir.. there's a request from another duke to bring an alliance.” muttered a soldier, as the king held out his hand for the letter.

“Take Prince Alexander II to his chambers.” demanded the king, some servants who were there, took off with the prince, leaving the peasant boy with the King, Alone.

“I apologise for the inconvenience Young Child, you are dismissed.” King William III says, bowing down in such a polite manner as the boy ran off. Doors were opened by the guards as the boy ran out. “Papa! Papa!” the kid shouted as he ran into the arms of his guardian; Farmer Micheal.

“Oh my sweet boy, I've searched mountain top to cave bottom for you.” The worried father commented, embracing his child who was in sobs. “Come home, dinner is bound to the cold by now.” he added, sweeping his arms around his boy into a bride's carry.

Up in the castle watched the father and son duo, Prince Alexander II stalked from his window, hatred in his eyes as he always knew that he, alone, was more powerful than the peasants that stalk the kingdom he’ll shortly rule.

He walked away from the window, to the book shelf, picking out a book. It was full of corruption of mage spells, surely one spell wouldn’t do harm? Wrong. “Hmmpf.. This shall do a trick, oh– father, you should’ve banned mages a long time ago.” the prince scoffed, resting the book against his desk. “What spell? A curse? No, it's too boring and he’ll surely cure it within days!” Alexander added, flickering through the pages to just find one spell.

When he reached a section of the book, it was inked out. Barely anyone could read. “What!? Oh mother of christ..” the prince grumbled to himself, shoving the book away from him. “Splendid, a book that rid it's fine work.” He added as he headed off to his bed.

In the head of Alexander, he thought, he dreamed, he imagined. In a world where he now ruled, it was all make believe but shortly soon he’ll rule his father’s kingdom.

His dream was cut short, his mind was blank and rid of pure dreams. ‘Shouldn’t open that book, Mortal..’ a voice called out, it sounded enticing, sounded Evil. “What do you want?!” Alexander shouted, but he alone couldn’t speak, it was all in his head. ‘I know what you truly desire, that mutt you call? You want something placed on him, or was it your father?’ the voice spoke once again, trying to trick the boy into thinking endlessly to make up a curse, anything.

It all was cut short as loud BANG! BANG! Rung out, cancelling out the voice. “Prince Alexander, your father requested you come down for food.” a servant says, opening the doors to check for the Prince.

“I’ll be there.” Alexander simply responded, as he got up and waltzed past the servant.

[beyondspaceandstars]

That Black Tee

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, penetrative sex, fingers, slight metal arm kink, sex against a wall, semi-public sex, dirty talk - 18+, minors DNI. Summary: It was such a simple thing. Just a simple black tee-shirt. But the way Bucky wore it had you practically melting -- and he seemed to realize it, happily granting your needs A/N: idk guys there was just something about that black tee-shirt bucky wore in episode 4 of TFATWS. it got my mind wandering. and i love practicing writing smut i hope im getting better at it lmao

Masterlist

You knew you absolutely, utterly fucked the second Bucky took off his jacket, revealing that damn black tee.

So simple yet so fitting, so accentuating. He looked casual and cool yet incredibly powerful and dominant with that metal arm fully on display thanks to the short sleeves. Between that damn shirt and the hard expression he wore, you were pretty much done for. It took all you might to not march over to him right that second.

Bucky appeared to be aware of all this as he turned to you, feeling your eyes wandering shamelessly over him in that shirt. He just looked so… him. Not a soldier, not some asset, just him. And he was hot.

He shot you a little smirk, making your eyes widen, suddenly unreasonably worried your boyfriend could read your mind.

You two must’ve been too caught up in your silent communication because the next thing you heard was Sam asking if you were okay.

You jumped and forced yourself to look away from Bucky. "Yeah, Sam," you nodded, "I’m fine."

He hummed, suspicious. "Are you sure?"

But before you could answer, Bucky felt it was his time to chime in. "She’s a little distracted."

Your eyes widened again, this time sending a signal to your boyfriend to shut the hell up. He wouldn’t look at you and instead just laughed to himself.

"Distracted?" Sam questioned.

"I- I’m fine, really-,"

Bucky cut you off, "Actually, I need to talk with her about something."

Your jaw went slack as you tried finding some words of explanation, something to save yourself from this situation as you could see Sam’s concern growing. But nothing was able to come out before Bucky was grabbing your hand.

"You can’t talk to her out here?" Sam asked.

Bucky shook his head, profusely. "It’s a very private matter. Incredibly serious. Just between me and her."

"Bucky-," you just about yelped as he started walking to one of the off-shoot rooms from the living space. Sam tried asking more questions but Bucky promptly shut him down by slamming the door. Hard. It was a miracle the thing didn’t just fall right off its hinges. For whatever reason, that suddenly turned you on even more.

You stood there in the middle of the room watching as Bucky slowly turned to you. He had a playful glimmer in his eyes as he took in your nervous yet needy state. Your thighs were practically in pain from how hard you were trying to squeeze them together, wanting some relief to your core that was set ablaze by him. Him and that damn outfit. That damn hair. His damn face- God, you just needed your boyfriend right now.

Bucky walked towards you slowly, intensely. You tried averting your eyes to save yourself from crumbling but he stopped you. His fingers came to your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes. He appeared to be just as eager.

"What happened back there, doll?" He asked just barely above a whisper. He held your chin firmly.

"What- What do you-,"

He chuckled. The fucker chuckled at your flustered state. "What do I mean? I mean that look you were giving me. How those eyes were peeling off my clothing piece by piece. Made me want to take you right there."

Bucky’s words went straight to your core. The wetness was pooling profusely, practically soaking through your jeans. You let out a little whimper as his thumb brushed over your lip.

"It’s your tee-shirt," you whispered, surprised that you could even find any sort of words in your dazed brain. He was way too intoxicating.

Bucky’s face shifted in surprise. "My shirt?"

You nodded. "It just… looks good on you."

He couldn’t help but let out another chuckle. You pouted at his reaction which he took as the opportunity to quickly place a kiss on your lips. You tried moving into him, grinding your body with his to beg for more, but he stopped, forcing you two apart.

"Oh, doll," he mumbled as his hand left your chin and slowly made its way down your body. Over the curve of your clothed breast, down your stomach, to your hips… the hand finally dipped under the waistline of your jeans. Without much warning, two fingers traced your folds, dipping slightly in to collect the wetness. He gave a few thrust, teasingly. Bucky groaned. "You’re this wet just from how I look in my shirt?"

You gasped, nodding. Embarrassment wanted to coarse through you but the pleasure from Bucky tracing his fingers to your clit was too much. Slowly, he started with circular motions, making your body jolt. You squealed in surprise. Bucky smiled down at your reaction.

He kept it up, adding pressure every now and then as he continued. Your legs began to shake forcing you to grip his arms in support. Bucky noticed this and brought his metal hand to your hip, steadying you.

He picked up the pace, his eyes boring into yours intensely. You let out a breathy moan at the sight of him, looking at you so hungry and aroused.

"Come on, honey, cum for me," he mumbled, still working on your clit. Every now and then he’d stop to dip a finger in as if gaging your wetness. In those moments you’d groan, waiting for the contact to come back. He never let you suffer long, though, finding his way back to your clit quickly, keeping the pressured motions. "Be a good girl and cum for me, doll, and I’ll fuck you real nice against the wall just like you deserve."

That was the final straw. His words alone practically sent you over the edge. Your body shook as the first orgasm pulled through you, lighting fire throughout your body. Your hips bucked and twisted uncontrollably, almost trying to get away from the touch but Bucky didn’t lighten up. He worked you through it, whispering sweet praises in your ear, making you lose it even more.

Once you came down from the high, Bucky wasted absolutely no time gripping your hips and pushing your back to the nearest wall. You yelped in surprise before his lips attached to yours, rough and demanding.

He lifted you up and grabbed your legs, circling them around your waist. You took the opportunity to grind into him feeling his erection hit your covered core. It lit a new fire in you making you gasp at the feeling.

Bucky moved his lips down your face to your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin. You whined and grabbed onto that fucking tee shirt, still trying to push into him, wordlessly begging him to speed up.

"Eager, doll?" Bucky asked. You could practically hear the dumb smile on his face and it made you want to slap it off. But all you could do in response was nod.

He placed one more kiss on your lips before his hand made its way back down your body. This time he popped the buttons of your jeans open. Briefly, he placed you back down to pull your jeans to your ankles. When that task was done, you were back wrapped around his waist, now feeling the erection more prominently. You let out a deep, uncontrollable moan when it hit.

As if he understood your annoyance, Bucky quickly undid his own jeans. In your dazed state, you must’ve zoned out because the next thing you knew, your panties were just pushed to the side and his cock was breaching your walls. You two were in sync letting our moans and groans at the warmth, the wetness.

His arms held you tight as he began his thrusts, so precise and strong. You were backed into the wall forcefully, enjoying the pressure and pleasure combining into one. Your boyfriend groaned above you, sounds going right to your core which was made evident by the squelching sounding in the room.

Bucky kept his thrusts up as his metal hand left your hip and made its way to your clit. His body held you up with his other arm, giving you a second to marvel in his strength. It was always such a treat when it came out in the bedroom. How he could hold you down or hold you up had your mind spinning half the time.

As his thrusts began to pick up, his metal hand started with the circular motions again on your clit. The coldness meeting your warmth was enough to drive you crazy. Your hands fisted his shirt, trying to keep yourself grounded. You let out a surprised moan at the whole sensation which Bucky seemed to like as he gripped you harder. Your brain was going fuzzy, drunk even, as he pounded you into the wall flawlessly.

"Bucky… B-Bucky…" you choked out.

"Hmm?" You could tell he was staring at you despite your eyes being fluttered shut. He was taking in every inch of your face contorting in glorious pleasure. It seemed to drive his thrusts faster, the circular motions on your clit picking up as well.

"I- I’m gonna-,"

"You gonna cum again, doll?" He asked, a little mockingly. You would’ve bit back if you weren’t in this state but you couldn’t do anything, just take what he was giving. You nodded weakly. "Alright, honey, that’s it… Cum for me, come on. I got you."

It was like Bucky flipped that last switch as his strength and speed picked up. You yelped, clinging to his shirt even tighter.

One final push on your clit was all you needed before you were crumbling in his arms. Your body shook as your orgasm flooded you with ecstasy. Bucky didn’t want to let up with the trusts, though, chasing his own orgasm and thoroughly working you through your second. He kept pounding, his hand opting to leave your clit to grope at your breasts under your shirt. The metal hitting your skin in a new place made you squeal again.

The sounds and motions were it for Bucky as the next thing you knew, he released inside you, coating your walls and thrusting in and out, letting it leak onto your skin. You moaned at the sensation.

Bucky gave a couple more weak thrusts before he let out a final groan and stilled inside you. Both his arms now were around your waist, pulling you close as you two panted, coming down from the pleasure.

Bucky leaned forward, his head resting on your shoulder. Your hands left his shirt and came up to his hair, where you ran them through his short locks.

"Was that what you needed, doll?" He asked, voice breaking through the heaviness of the room.

You giggled, "Exactly what I needed."

"Hmm," he sighed and straightened back up. He pecked your lips. "Guess I gotta wear this shirt more often."

You gasped, slapping his chest lightly as he laughed. But you couldn’t totally disagree. "I wouldn’t complain if it made an appearance every now and then."

Bucky shook his head, "I don’t understand how a black tee shirt can get you going, doll."

After he spoke, he slowly removed himself from you, letting you down from the wall. Warm wetness began soaking your thighs feeling so intimate, so hot, it almost made you almost suggest round two right then and there but that didn’t seem on the table after Bucky handed you some tissues to clean up. Not to mention the fact there were people in the living area.

You shrugged, readjusting your shirt and pulling your jeans back on. You watched as Bucky also readjusted his appearance. "It’s because it’s on you," you insisted. "You could walk around in the most ridiculous outfits and I’d still beg you to jump my bones."

Bucky let out the most joyous laugh at that. He walked back towards you, securely wrapping his arms around your waist. You placed a kiss on his lips, which he hummed happily into.

"I’m flattered," he mumbled. The light blush across his cheeks confirmed his words.

You smiled, "What can I say? I got a hot boyfriend and he should know it."

Bucky placed another kiss on your lips. "Oh, trust me, I think he knows it now."

You let out a giggle and pulled away from his grip, despite a little protest. "Come on," you said and motioned towards the door, "we should probably leave this room before we get any shit from them."

"Oh, you’re getting a lot of shit once you come out of that room," Sam called from the other side of the door, making both you and Bucky jump. "Might as well stay in here."

You groaned at the words, your face and neck suddenly becoming hot in embarrassment. Bucky just chuckled, somehow finding everything amusing, and wrapped an arm around you.

"Worth it, though," he whispered before placing a kiss on your cheek. You rolled your eyes playfully but couldn’t at all argue. Just glancing between the wall and that black tee made you suddenly hot and bothered all over again.

Bucky picked up on your gaze, once again practically reading your mind. With a suggestive smirk, he asked, "Round two?"

You bit your lip as his hand began running over the curve of your ass.

"Fine."

Bucky didn’t waste a single second before whisking you off your feet

[spicysoftsweet]

summary: gojo’s tired of you resisting him

warnings: home invasion, noncon, degradation, fem!reader

a/n: this was supposed to be a crumb for @mahitopegger i have no idea wtf happened. i didn’t edit this || reposted from sideblog (now deactivated) on 4/17/2021.

It was only after the soft click of your door, and the eerie silence thereafter that seemed to threaten to close you in, that you realized that something wasn’t quite right. Your eyes darted left, then right, and you kicked off your shoes slower than usual, setting them semi-haphazardly to the side of your entryway.

Even if you weren’t paranoid, you were still the type of person to double check, sometimes triple-check your locks on occasion before you left your home, and you did remember your key turning the right way just seconds ago.

Maybe you were overreacting - after all you lived in a relatively safe area, alone save for your cat with a propensity to mewl for food at all hours of the day. Ah, that was possibly the issue, the fact that your little furry friend hadn’t made his presence immediately. But he knew how to be quiet sometimes, and was fond of an early afternoon nap.

The sound of your keys clattering on your coffee table now seemed unceremoniously loud, like you were disturbing a religious service. In your own house.

Your heart started to race for just a moment, and you turned around quickly.

Nothing. No person, no ghost, no cat. Just you, a sudden sense of unease, and your rapidly beating heart.

Why were you so anxious?

You couldn’t recall the last time you’d felt so unsettled for the moments in which you paced down your hallway, ears tuned to the soft footfalls of your presumably sleeping companion. You would have whispered its name but you didn’t want to wake up the needy little bastard unnecessarily.

It was only three paces in that you stilled suddenly, and the memory of the last time you’d felt this way suddenly struck vividly in your mind.

Clear blue eyes, bordered by long, pale white eyelashes. A smile, once easy and bright, with corners turned up far too high into malice.

You froze.

Was it him? Was Gojo in your house? He wouldn’t... would he?

Your last encounter had been... suboptimal, to say the least. You’d all but told him to get lost, that you weren’t and would never be interested, not after knowing who he was, what he was.

You needed a quiet, calm existence. Your imprint on the world would be measured. You had to stay away from bad omens like his.

But his reaction had been unnatural. He hadn’t given you a real response, just a smile, and you had felt just as unnerved then as you did now before you parted.

You were clearly still spooked.

But these nerves were just vestiges of your anxiety. Gojo knew how to take no for an answer. Of course he did.

He didn’t - you opened your bedroom to find the young sorcerer waiting for you, your cat comfortable in his arms.

“Ah! You’re back~”

Gojo didn’t move; rather, he continued to sit in his relaxed position, legs outstretched onto the bed, palm stroking softly at the soft orange fur. The soft purr of the docile animal filled the air with sharp contrast to your wordless mouth, opening and closing once in shock, and the frenzied beat of your heart.

He smiled before his eyes did, and shifted on top of your covers, getting to his feet. Dressed casually in a white t-shirt and a loose pair of sweatpants, as though he’d been lounging around your house the entire day... as though he lived here.

“W-what are you doing here?”  You choked out.

His eyebrows furrowed, and his hold on the little creature relaxed, who remained for just a moment, mewing once before jumping off his lap, brushing by your legs that felt as though they would start shaking any moment, and then promptly sauntered out of the room.

“You didn’t tell me you had a cat,” Satoru remarked, now sitting with legs criss-crossed on the bed, hair mussed and relaxed, and with affect as bright as a child on his first sleepover. He patted the space on the bed next to him, beckoning you to come sit. “Did you have a good day?”

“Gojo, please get out of my house.”

His expression darkened for just a moment before it returned to its natural cheeriness. He patted the space next to him again.

“You must be tired. I can make you something. Tea?”

Your feet were glued to the ground, neither advancing nor retreating.

“P-please leave,” you repeated, more wary this time. Your hands were starting to shake and you watched his eyes flicker to them, then back to your eyes.

“Why would I do that?” He said, tilting his head ever so slightly.

His eyes bore into yours and you felt your stomach turn.

“Don’t you like my attention?”

“Satoru, please,” you continued, your lower lip wobbling inadvertently. “Please, just leave... I won’t tell anyone you came here, just... I can’t return whatever feelings you have, so just go.”

Your fists clenched and unclenched, but you still were so tense, planted onto the floor as though you were a sharp dagger thrust into vulnerable flesh. Why weren’t your feet moving? You should be running. Running as far as you can from this man who could just as easily become a monster if he so pleased.

As though he knew you’d already become powerless - not that it made a difference, the power differential was already so vast - he rose, walking towards you in an open, unguarded stance. He wasn’t afraid of you in the least. The very thought made your blood boil.

Once he stood before you, towering over your shorter, smaller frame, his lips pursed.

“Stop shaking.”

It was a command, given in an annoyed but direct fashion.

You don’t know why you eked out, powerlessly, “I can’t.”

“You weren’t this afraid when you were telling me to fuck off a couple days ago,” he noted. His hand rose to grip your chin, tilting your face to him. You don’t know when you’d started crying, but tears were now streaming down your face, warm and wetting his fingers.

“You’re crying? Where’s the sass you had then?”

“Please...”

Against your better wishes, his lips pressed to yours, and somehow then, your body remembered that adrenaline could also make you fight, and you did fight, thumping your hands balled into fists against his chest and his shoulders, as his hand gripped your chin tighter and his tongue forced its way down your throat. Once he’d gotten tired of your struggle, his other arm hooked around your waist, and he pulled you closer, pressing you against his body.

Your screams were muffled by his kiss as it grew deeper, and at some point, he’d decided on biting your lip painfully, drawing blood once he’d threatened you to shut the fuck up before he gave you something to cry about for real.

You remembered that the first time Gojo had kissed you, it had been soft and tender, nothing like this kiss that was violent and demanded submission; once his hand moved from its grip on your chin, it grasped your hair, fingers twisting and tugging to tilt your head back.

His lips left yours, now red and soon purple and blue, and made their way down your neck to mark them the same.

Every scream was futile, every plea for mercy fell on deaf ears.

At some point, you may have heard your cat meow for something... food? Out of sympathy? You weren’t sure, all you could think about were the painful hickeys on your collarbones and traveling down your bosom.

“I don’t know why you’re so resistant. You yourself called me selfish,” he murmured, ripping the top part of your clothing with the nonchalance with which one would peel a banana. At the sight of your exposed breasts, he was like a man rabid, slamming you backwards into the wall without much regard for head injury. His left arm caged you in, while his right pressed painfully onto your breast.

He paused for a moment, and grinned salaciously.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that~! You look so docile... it’s weird coming from you.”

To that, a fire renewed in your eyes, and you spat directly in his face. His lips curled again in satisfaction, barely reacting to the spittle dripping down his pretty features.

“Fuck you.”

“I will.”

With a small chuckle, he jerked your face painfully to the left such that you couldn’t look at him directly as he took your breast into his mouth.

The idea of this bastard suckling on you, loudly, lewdly as though you’d belonged to him only made the churn in your stomach worse, but the desperate attempts to a knee to his chest were met with barely a resistance. Like he knew you couldn’t hurt him and it was only a matter of time until you stopped and succumbed to him.

The process was already happening - you could feel your nipples hardening and a new flow of heat in your panties. Your tears became more prolific - no longer fear, but rage, but the hand that kept you steady against the wall was impossibly strong.

Your head swam as a confused pleasure started to replace the pain and fear you were feeling. More clothing was torn off of you, more of your skin was marked and licked and sucked. Once your panties were ripped to shreds, he lay your now languid and fight-drained body against him, cooing appreciatively at the new helplessness, pumping two slender fingers up and down your wet inner core as he moved you from the hard wall to the soft bed.

You almost thanked him.

His fingers remained within you as he laid you down, but once he withdrew his touch as your pounding hazy head hit the pillow, he replaced them with the roughness of his tongue, penetrating you without the least bit of shame.

You let slip the moan you had been holding in in defiance.

“That’s it, baby, let me hear you.”

He continued to lick and you continued to mewl.

Once he’d tired of the taste of your cunt, he invaded your privacy in the most all-encompassing way possible, pushing every inch of a greedy, throbbing cock inside of you. As you cried from the stretch, he shushed you with a hand clasped over your mouth to muffle your screams.

As if someone was going to help you. Maybe your cat would come and watch, but he’d found something else to do.

“I know it hurts but you’ll get used to it, I promise, babe,” he murmured, groaning slightly as he seated himself to the hilt. “There.”

He stilled and in the silence of the moment only punctuated by both of your soft pants, you remembered how to sob.

His nose crinkled, and he let out of a soft sigh, cock jerking impatiently inside you.

“Why are you so stubborn?” He mused, leaning against you so that his head rested in the softness of your breasts. He could hear your heartbeat that doesn’t beat for him... but rather it did, because he is the one making it quicken in some odd rhythm of terror and pleasure.

You didn’t speak because there was far, far too much to yell.

As though a timer had rung to mark the end of his empathy, he rose onto his hands again, sighing as he adjusted into the plushness of your walls that didn’t reject him as fervently as you did. He moved, shoving two fingers down your throat to gag your renewed protests as he thrust into you repeatedly.

The short gasps with every stroke only encouraged him, and the immense pleasure he found in the light of your eyes starting to fade into a placid dullness.

“You love me,” he informed you with every rut.

You didn’t answer.  

You weren’t sure what this disgusting repetitive sensation bringing your body to climax was. You were no longer sure what he was even talking about, just that there was a warm thing pumping inside of you and fingers down your throat and pain everywhere else in your body, particularly your neck and shoulders and arms and breasts, and you were staring into precious sapphires littering the base of twin lakes.

“You love me,” he repeated. “I know you do.”

[bluishfrog]

Dream’s heart pounded as the titan drew closer, each step shaking the earth beneath him. His breath hitched, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow to the beast’s looming figure and George’s cold, calculating stare.

George's smirk hadn't faded. “So you need my help. But watching you get flattened by that thing? You have no idea how tempting that is,” he said, casually brushing some dust from his sleeve. His eyes gleamed with amusement, as if the sight of Dream struggling was his personal show. “It's poetic, really. The mighty Dream, brought to his knees. Why would I help you?”

Dream's body screamed in protest. He sidestepped another crushing blow from the titan, barely managing to stay on his feet. He couldn’t keep dodging forever, and George knew it. “George, please,” Dream begged, fear leaking into his voice. “You want me dead, fine. But that thing... it’s not just going to stop with me. And I can get you anything, anything you want. I know these realms better than almost anyone. Name it, and it’s yours — if you help me now.”

George raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, but he didn’t move. Instead, he leaned back against the tree, crossing his arms again and tapping his fingers against his bicep thoughtfully. “Anything, you say?” His tone was almost bored, as if they were discussing a minor inconvenience rather than a life-or-death battle.

Dream’s pulse raced as he glanced at the titan, which was now only steps away. He could feel the ground vibrating beneath him, each breath a struggle to keep steady. “Yes, anything. A wish of your choice. Just help me stop this thing!” His voice was desperate now, pleading.

George seemed to savor the moment, a slow smile creeping across his face. He tilted his head slightly, his eyes darkening as he considered Dream’s offer. “A wish of my choice,” he repeated, drawing out each word. “And I can cash it in... anytime I like?”

Dream agreed quickly, nerves fraying as the titan let out another deafening roar, its fist slamming into the ground mere meters away, sending a wave of debris and dust into the air. Dream shielded his face, knowing he was running out of time.

George watched him for another long second, clearly enjoying his power in this situation. Then, finally, he sighed, the sound almost exaggerated. “Alright, Dream,” he said, pushing off the tree and rolling his shoulders as though preparing for a leisurely stroll. “You’ve got yourself a deal. But remember...” He stepped closer, his voice turned cold, sharp with warning. “When I come to collect, you won’t be able to back out. I want a wish, anything I desire, no questions asked.”

Dream swallowed hard, the weight of George’s condition settling heavily on him. He nodded. “Deal,” he accepted.

George’s smirk returned. “Good. Now let’s deal with your little problem.”

Without another word, George stepped forward, his expression shifting into something more focused. The air around him seemed to hum with a different kind of energy, one that Dream hadn’t felt in years. As the titan let out another ground-shaking roar, the two of them stood side by side, united, facing the towering beast together.

We entered the enemies to lovers era of manhunt

[slut4buckysarm]

Fuck Buddies

Warnings: SMUT (praise kink, orgasms, fuck buddies, oral f receiving, no protection, d in v), language.

SEND ASKS

ALL mistakes are my own.

Do NOT copy, repost, translate or rewrite my fics!!.

I admire every single comment, reblog, follow, and like to a great extent :).

—

He’s my best friend. I shouldn’t feel the way I do about him but hey ‘you can’t stop who you fall for’ right? Except in this case I didn’t fall for Chris, I fell for his body. I was begging to touch every curve on that mans abs and to feel every vein on his cock. I wanted all of it. I wanted all of him.

Chris felt the same about me. “We could be fuck buddies, ya know? Come on Y/N, trust me with this one”. But I put his idea to the side knowing that it could never work out.

My phone dings and my mind snaps back to reality. The device illuminates my face as I read Chris’ text.

So bored.. ..and horny.

TMI??

Not if you don’t want it to be.

don’t be gross😂

Haha. Anyways, i’m going to go help this thing out.

This is my chance. If I don’t tell him now I will quite literally have to forever hold my peace.

Chris…

Yeah?

Do it. Do it. Do it.

Without thinking, my fingers start typing.

I need you.

The bubbles appear on the bottom left side of my phone and then disappear. For a moment I feel as though the ground beneath my feet vanished. My hearts racing and my fingers are fidgeting.

He doesn’t feel the same anymore. Oh God, I fucked up.

As I’m about to place my phone on the couch beside me, the bubbles reappear. I wait and wait until I finally see the grey message.

Tell me again.

A burst of confidence finds its way out of my depths and I send a message back.

I need you so bad.

Be there in 5.

—

I hear a bang on my door and rush to open it.

“He-” Chris’ lips make contact with mines before I get to finish.

He slams the door shut and pushes my body onto it, keys jingle behind us.

His tongue swirls inside of my mouth and I can swear that it’s the most passionate kiss i’ve ever had. I fight for dominance, but soon give in knowing that he won’t.

We stumble to my bedroom, knocking over a vase on our way.

“Chris” I moan into his mouth.

“Tell me what you want, Y/N” he speaks grabbing a fistful of my hair.

I break the kiss and stare at him, his crystal blue eyes piercing through my Y/E/C ones.

“You”.

That’s all it takes for his palm to make contact with my chest and push me onto my mattress.

He eagerly pulls my shorts off of my waist and my tank top along with them.

I yelp as Chris grabs ahold of my ankles and pulls me to the edge of the bed. Sitting up, I fumble to unzip his pants, not wanting to wait to feel him inside of me any longer.

“Uh uh.” he mutters. “Not yet”.

I can feel his fingers run up and down my already wet slick. The mixture of my heat with his cool fingers being the perfect combination.

“First, I’m going show you how long i’ve been waiting for this. Then, I’m gonna destroy this little cunt of yours and even then…” he pauses. “I promise that you’ll be beggin’ for more.” Chris finishes dropping to his knees.

He spreads open my legs with his left hand. He then moves my lace panties to the side and collects my wetness. He spreads it over my nerves and starts to rub circles around my clit.

“Fuck Chris. Faster.” I choke out, getting a smirk as a response.

He moves his mouth to my heat and presses his tongue flat. Chris then places a kiss on my clit while maintaining eye contact and I swear that alone could make me cum. A couple more kisses to my inner thighs alert me as to what he’s doing.

“Chris come on!” I whine.

“Use your nice words darlin”

“Please.” I give him a pout.

Chris doesn’t waste any more time. He swirls his tongue around my clit and pumps two fingers inside of me.

“Fuck yes. Right there!”.

“You like that gorgeous?” The vibrations from his dirty talk send chills up my spine and I try to squirm away from his hold but he pins me down with his forearm to my lower stomach.

Feeling the knot in my stomach grow tighter, I tighten my thighs around his neck and arch my back in pleasure.

“Chris, m’close”.

“Shhh. I know sweetheart. I know”.

“Don’t stop. Fuck. Please don’t stop”.

He starts to pump faster and my thighs shake in his hands.

“So pretty” Chris mutters, mostly to himself.

That’s all it takes for me to release on to his fingers.

My body slams against the mattress and Chris stands to his feet.

“Already?” he mocks unbuckling his pants.

His cock springs out once free, tip covered in a white liquid. He spreads his pre-cum onto the rest of his dick and lines himself up with my entrance.

Chris moves the tip of his cock up and down my slick and looks up at me, waiting for an answer. I nod my head, desperate to feel him inside of me and gasp when he does so.

“Fuck Chris. Yes Chris, right there. Don’t stop, Chris” I moan his name like a prayer.

My velvet walls flutter contacting with Chris’ vein.

“Yeah. This what you needed darlin’?” he groans in my ear.

All I do is bite my bottom lip and nod, agreeing.

He grabs ahold of the backboard behind me and the cheap wood cracks with the pressure of his fist, but he doesn’t stop and God I don’t want him to. He keeps rocking his hips into mines over and over and over again.

“You’re fuck perfect” he mutters.

I can feel Chris’ hands dig deeper into my hips. He moves his right one to my mouth and rubs a finger on my lips. Chris then trails his hand down to my right boob and starts playing with my nipple. He twists, turns, and squeezes the bud, and I throw my head back in pleasure.

I feel his cock spasm inside of me and that’s all I need to reach my climax. I let go onto him screaming his name, and he follows behind me.

Chris' body falls onto mines, but he catches himself with his forearms. He pulls himself out of me and tugs his pants up.

“Yeah, you’re fucking perfect” he chuckles, watching a mixture of our juices run down my leg.

please give feedback and reblog if you enjoyed.

[earlgreydream]

villain.

| draco malfoy x reader / theo nott x reader | smut | angst |

anon requested. smutty draco x y/n where they’ve been dating for months or years and draco cheated on her 

cw: infidelity, sadism, branding, non-consensual voyeurism (revenge)

a/n: this request was a lot, it was long, and it made me FEEL THINGS

The alcohol burned going down.

The bass echoed in your feet as music blared from speakers, sweaty bodies moving and grinding against one another, just mere feet away. You were disgusted by the scene before you.

Where was your lover?

“Y/N!” A drunk friend called your name.

An empty smile crossed your face. You tipped the glass back, swallowing the rest of its contents. You needed it.

“Have you seen him?” You called over the music, practically shouting in your friend’s ear.

“Seen whooo?” They giggled, fingers clutching the glittering material of your dress. It felt like nothing on your body, you felt naked.

“Draco!” You spat, shoving them off when they shook their head no.

Annoyance was all too familiar, wrapping around you like a well-known friend. Fuck.

You slithered through the party, your eyes darting everywhere, searching for a head of white-blonde hair. Your efforts proved futile.

“Are you looking for Draco?” Blaise’s dark hand caught yours, grabbing your attention.

“Yes!” Finally, some help.

“I saw him go off to his room,” he pointed to the hallway off of the common room.

Blaise’s eyes were full of terrible pity, and you felt your heart sink to the bottom of your stomach.

No.

“Can I get you a drink?” He tried to stop you.

“No, get off of me.”

You pushed your way through dancing bodies and wandering hands of drunk boys. Your heels clicked on the black marble floors of the common room, drowned out by the music.

Your mind was far disconnected from your body, and you felt like something small amongst a crowd that suffocated you. Adrenaline kicked in, and you freed yourself from the teenagers, escaping hungry grasps.

Every step you took filled you with dread. It decayed your insides, poisoning your heart and your mind and weighing your feet down. Your ears were ringing, and you could barely hear the deafening music, or your friends calling for you to rejoin them on a couch nearby. Your lungs couldn’t properly draw in oxygen, and the edges of your mind began to prickle with delirium.

You were running on adrenaline.

You practically tripped over your own feet as you tore down the hall, halting as your fingers came into contact with a wooden door. Your fist closed around an iron handle, but doubt made you hesitate.

You had an instant where you considered turning around, going back to the party and forgetting about all of this. Ignoring the whispers of gossip, and silencing the rumors, pretending like this never happened. You could leave this doorway, leave and stay blissfully unaware before it was too late.

No.

Leaders don’t doubt themselves.

You’d made it this far, there was no sense to let your bravery falter now. You gripped the handle, twisting and throwing the door open. The action happened in an instant, and all at once, you couldn’t take it back.

Reality came crashing down on you.

Every fear you had suddenly became tangible. It was very real, unfolding in front of you, and you were powerless to stop it. Every ounce of doubt vanished from your mind, replaced with horrible certainty.

Your body froze. Ice shot down your spine, and spread through your skin in gripping tendrils. The adrenaline halted suddenly, and your heart stopped racing. Your mind snapped back to consciousness. Sharp, unforgiving sanity burst through you in one horrible, violent instant.

Draco Malfoy, your boyfriend of four years, was buried deep inside the cunt of Pansy Parkinson, your roommate and best friend.

Sick, deranged laughter rose in your throat and escaped from your lips.

The party still echoed under your feet, reminding you there were so many people close by. You wondered if they knew. You decided it didn’t matter, the only people who you would’ve believed it from were in front of you, fornicating in infidelity.

“Y/N!” Your name left Pansy in a scream.

At least she seemed ashamed, hurrying to pull the sheets— your sheets— to cover her breasts. Draco didn’t even have the decency to end his rough thrusts from behind, even as one of her hands went out to swat him away.

Cold, silver eyes glared back at you.

“Are you going to leave, or do you care to stay and watch?” Draco’s tone was impatient, dismissive.

His words tasted metallic, like blood and poison.

“Do you feel guilty?”

Draco mistook your tone for amusement. You didn’t cry, and you didn’t move. You didn’t even breathe. From his point of view, you just watched the situation unfold in eerie calmness.

Most girls would have screamed. Most girls would have sobbed and begged for validation, or run away at the very least.

You were not most girls. Draco knew you were something far worse.

You were dangerous and severe.

Your eyes glittered with something dark and terrible. It sent a shudder through him, and powerful doubt ripped all of the air from his lungs.

Do you feel guilty?

“No. I grew bored with you, I don’t regret this, Pansy’s a good fuck.” Draco’s voice masked his insecurity, but you saw directly through the cracking shell, staring directly at the truth.

Your gaze locked with Pansy’s. Her fear twisted in your own stomach, igniting your nerves like electricity. Draco’s movements faltered.

A terrible stillness settled over the room. For a moment, none of you moved, the ice inside of you spreading over everything.

In slytherin, you do what is necessary.

The voice echoed in the back of your mind, grounding you in your crumbling reality.

Do what is necessary.

A malicious idea crossed your mind with a depraved smile.

“I can be redeemed of boredom,” you said simply.

Your tone unnerved Draco. The stillness and certainty was suffocating. Every lingering doubt was annihilated, along with your trust and love for Draco and Pansy.

You didn’t expect the grief to feel so relieving.

The light caught the sparkles of your dress, glittering as the thin fabric moved on your body as you walked out the door. It slammed shut behind you, sealing the room shut with its sin inside.

“What have we done?” Pansy asked Draco.

Weak girls doubted themselves.

You were many things, but never weak. Your feet carried you back to the party. It was still in full, excited swing, as if horrible sins weren’t being committed, as if trust wasn’t being desecrated.

The depraved smile remained on your face.

You were freed from doubt, they were freed from lies. It was always easier to know who your enemies were, even when they were your lovers and your friends.

The cruelty glittering in your eyes, and the sick smile on your face confirmed to everyone that you knew. Blaise wouldn’t meet your gaze. He knew, and he’d led you to them.

“How long, Zabini?”

“A couple of months.” He shifted uneasily.

Your laughter struck fear in his heart. You were quickly coming to terms with your lover’s infidelity, and it ignited something inside of you.

Wrath tasted sweet on your lips, and you breathed it into your lungs like oxygen.

Blaise expected you to be hysterical, but this was far more calculated, far more dangerous.

There was one person left who was loyal to you, and he was leaning against a marble pillar, a glass of fire whiskey at his lips.

“Theo,” you approached the brunette, greeted with a smile and a sultry gaze.

“I need you.”

“Anything,” he answered with absolute sincerity.

“Draco is unfaithful, and I want to get revenge.”

Theo’s fingers slipped in yours, and he brought your hand to his lips. His dark gaze glittered with deviance, catching you as you tumbled.

“You’ve come to the right person.”

Draco was sickened. You attended classes with him, and took your usual seat beside him to eat in the great hall. As far as he could tell, nothing had changed. Blaise, and the few others who knew about his side habit, were uneasy with your reaction. All except for Theo.

Ever since you’d began dating Draco four years ago, he’d been terribly jealous of Theo. Whenever the brunette was around, Draco was openly affectionate with you, growing possessive and territorial. He didn’t imagine it would ever be used against him, but you could turn anything into a weapon.

You weren’t one to be underestimated.

The boys talked about an upcoming quidditch match, the Slytherin team being led by Malfoy. Theo calmly discussed strategy with him, as if he hadn’t sided with you in the betrayal. Draco was too trusting of the brunette. 

Your hand slid up Draco’s back, your fingers threading in the hair at the base of his neck. He forced himself not to flinch, keeping his voice even. A hand dropped to your thigh, and you sipped the drink in front of you. Your nails were sharp on Draco’s neck, a veiled threat that made his skin crawl. 

“I want to show you just how interesting I can be,” you whispered in his ear.

His silver gaze moved to you, watching as you stood and swung your legs over the bench. You cradled his hand in your face, giving him a cold smile before pressing a bitter kiss to his mouth. 

You left the great hall, descending into Draco’s prefect dorm. Eyes trailed after you as you moved through the common room with grace. Pansy watched you disappear into his bedroom, pain spreading through her chest. 

You changed into black lace and silk, leaning on the armoire as he entered. The heavy door shut behind him, and his hands went to his tie, tearing it from his body. His silver gaze admired your body, and he began to wonder why he’d chosen Pansy over you, realizing his mistake. 

“What is this?” Draco dared to ask. 

“Boredom can be cured, Malfoy. You may be willing to toss me aside, but you know that I’m a better match for you. I’m the pureblood your parents pray ends up in your bed.” You pointed out, and he swallowed, unable to argue.

“Let me seduce you,” your hands smoothed over the clean white shirt that adorned his fair chest. 

He watched you touch him, your fingers undoing buttons and pushing the fabric off of his shoulders. He slipped out of the rest of his clothes, pulling on the tie of your robe.

You let him skim his filthy hand down your body, malice simmering inside of you. Your silk joined his clothes on the floor, and you led him to the bed, pushing him down on his back. You straddled his waist, settling down on his lap and lightly running your nails up his chest. 

You tasted poison on your tongue, and a vicious heat spread through your limbs.

Your hands slid up his arms, trapping his wrists at the headboard. Draco didn’t struggle as silk ties wrapped around his wrists, and you secured his hands to the wrought iron bars. Your sweet smile turned insidious, and icy fear paralyzed Draco. 

“Y/N-”

“Shut your fucking mouth!” You snapped, sliding off of his body like a viper. Your feet were on either side of his hips as you stood over the terrified blonde, and you considered kicking him in the ribs. He opened his mouth, but it fell shut with your dangerous look. 

You stepped off of the bed, and Draco thought you were going to leave him naked, tied to the bed. It didn’t matter, Pansy would be around in a few hours to free him. 

Draco’s fear heightened when you opened the door without dressing, his stomach dropping when another person entered the dorm. 

“Theo?” he croaked. 

His body jolted as the door slammed shut, the lock clicking in place and securing your privacy. Your venomous laughter rattled Draco’s spine, and you walked to the edge of the bed, standing before him. 

“Y/N, you need to let me go. Theo, untie me!” The panic in his voice fueled the fire of your wrath, and you smirked at how pathetic he looked. 

“I don’t need to do anything! I owe you nothing, you weak little bitch. Beg me.” 

He stared at you in disbelief, and Theo watched you. The room was buzzing with intense ferocity, your rage pouring off of you in waves and drowning everything in its path. 

You were going to get revenge, and it was going to be sweet. 

Draco’s will was strong, but it was no match for yours. Theo slid his tie off of his neck, but Draco was too focused on you to notice. You were entirely focused on emasculating Draco, determined to make him feel as pathetic and weak as you saw him. 

“Please untie me. I’ll do anything, I’ll break it off with Pansy, I’ll do whatever you want, but just untie me, please.” The desperation was clear in his voice, fear edging in his tone.

“No,” you answered coldly, and he jerked his wrists, the silk digging into his flawless skin. A frightened sigh escaped him, and he turned to Theo desperately. Theo tossed his own clothing aside, and Draco shook his head.

“No, no, Y/N, not with Theo!” Draco protested. 

You turned away from the blonde and pulled Theo against you, his tongue invading your mouth in a rough, forceful kiss. Draco yanked on the bonds, jealous fury burning through him as he watched Theo’s hands explore your body, grabbing and touching you in places that only he did. 

“You are going to lay there, helpless, weak, and pathetic. You are going to watch your best friend fuck me, and you’re going to stay tied up and powerless.”

A noise rose in Draco’s throat, and your hands gripped the sheets at the end of the mattress, bending over and facing Draco. The remaining lace was ripped from your body, and you shot Draco a sadistic smile. 

“You’re going to pay for this.”

“Open your mouth again, and I’ll force it shut.”

You stood up as Theo slammed you from behind, gripping the posts of the bed. Your fingers gripped the etched iron, and memories of having your wrists restrained on experimental nights came flooding back. 

Exhilarated screams left your lips, Theo filling in you in perfect ways, in ways Draco never could. 

“He’s so much better than you. You’ve been holding me back, Draco!”

Silver eyes were wet, delighting your cruelty. Your sharp laughter burned his ears, and his skin was raw from struggling. He watched the scene in front of him, knowing exactly how you felt, but Draco was weak enough to drown in it. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry-” he choked out as he watched Theo circle your clit in expert, practiced touches. Draco shook his head, watching his best friend, his teammate, and his partner come deep inside of you. He watched it drip down your thighs, your ecstatic, pornographic screams pounding in his head, echoing off of the walls as your own orgasm shattered through you. Theo shared your vengeful pleasure as he watched Draco fall apart. 

Your limbs were trembling as you stood up all the way, leaning back into Theo. You stared at Draco, furthering his shame and misery, twisting like a sickness in your chest. The poison of revenge was addicting, pumping through your veins like blood and filling your heart. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I’m so-” 

You lunged at the boy, your fingers closing around his throat, kneeling on top of him like he was your prey. 

“Draco, I will never forgive you!” you hissed venomously.

Theo was gone, leaving the two of you alone, leaving no witness to whatever crime of passion you were about to commit. The thirst for blood was thick on your tongue, the hunger for revenge making you violent. 

Draco screamed as your wand burned letters into his skin in thick, black ink. You drew back, admiring your initials that were now branded onto the inside of his hip, left by your hatred. His chest heaved as he watched you in horror, making your lips curve into a sadistic smile. 

“I own you.”

You left him restrained, knowing someone would find him eventually as the door closed behind you. Your heart was racing, all of your nerves buzzing from the adrenaline. 

Leaders don’t doubt themselves. Do what is necessary.

Pansy walked past, and you grabbed her black hair, yanking her back against the wall, pinning her to the cold stone with your own body. 

“If you ever touch what is mine again, I’ll rip every pretty hair from your head, and I will have you begging for death!” You seethed, yanking hard on her locks, tearing a terrorized whimper from her. 

“Got it?”

“Yes!” 

You threw her down and spun on your heel, leaving her shaking. Her scream echoed through the common room when she found Draco, and a sinful smirk adorned your face. 

You found you had a taste for wrath, and a talent for violence.

[writing-on-the-wahl]

Writing Snippet #16: Songbird

Part 2

So @im-a-wonderling had a fantastic plot idea... and I added wings.

(Collaborating with her on this one was so fun! I don’t normally write angst so it was new for me and she was an incredible help/inspiration!)

TW: blood, implied violence, general angst

———————————

Villain leaned back against the stark white wall. In fact, aside from his own dark blue attire, everything in the hallway of cells was white: the floors, ceilings, doors, even the metal bars were painted white.

Supervillain had always preferred things nice and clean and white.

Not the best color choice for the dungeon of a brutal supervillain. Villain wondered how they cleaned away the bloodstains.

Supervillain’s minions had been courteous enough when they brought him in, not that he’d been able to put up much of a fight after a sniper shot him with a power suppressor mixed with a sedative. He’d been barely conscious when they dragged him into this cell and left him alone.

That had been hours ago, and he still couldn’t feel his powers. Not the most ideal scenario. Especially considering the reason he was here.

Supervillain’s missing device. Her masterpiece. Prize of her collection. Peak of her creative genius. First of its kind.

And only, Villain thought smugly. He and Hero had stolen the device last week. And Supervillain was notoriously paranoid about her technology being stolen and never wrote anything down. She might be able to recreate the device, but it would take a few years.

He didn’t know how Supervillain knew he’d been involved. She was sure to demand the return of her invention, which was, unfortunately, currently in a thousand pieces at the bottom of the ocean.

Villain had anticipated a double cross from Hero, had thought the Hero Agency would insist on saving and using a machine that could duplicate superpowers and create new heroes, but Hero had been just as determined as he was to see the machine destroyed.

Personally, he knew what would happen if Supervillain managed to duplicate his powers, knew the destruction she would leave in her wake.

He wasn’t exactly sure why Hero had been equally as passionate, but he hadn’t been able to resist grinning at her enthusiastic smashing. He could have destroyed the device with a flick of his fingers, but watching her take a sledgehammer to the metal had stirred something in his chest. Admiration turning towards something warmer.

The door at the far end of the hall banged open, and two guards burst into the room, dragging a limp form between them.

Villain’s heart skidded to a stop.

The figure in the middle was small and slim, with oversized wings that dragged on the ground as the guards carried her forward.

Villain would know those wings anywhere: a blue so light it was nearly white, with feathered tips that looked as though they’d been dipped in the midnight sky.

Hero.

Villain stiffened, hands curling into fists.

They drew closer, and his breath caught.

There was blood dripping from a wound on Hero’s temple; the fair skin of her face and arms was already beginning to bruise.

The guards hauled her past, and his nails bit into the flesh of his palms at the sight of her wings, one wing hanging at a horribly wrong angle as it dragged on the ground behind her, spatters of red dotting the light feathers.

Fury pounded in his chest as his eyes stayed fixed on her mangled wing. If his powers were working, the entire prison would have been obliterated.

Hero didn’t stir as the guards threw her into the cell next to his.

His heart stuttered as logic warred with panic.

They wouldn’t lock her up unless she was alive...

Right?

Villain gripped the edge of the hard metal cot, the sharp corners digging into his palms as the guards strode by.

He offered a sardonic raise of the eyebrow as they glanced his way. One of the henchmen paused.

“The boss will be by soon to release you. She was given new information that revealed the true thief of her device.” His eyes cut to Hero.

Villain hummed disapprovingly as he leaned back, though every muscle was tensed, ready to spring. “I told Supervillain I was innocent of her allegations.”

Henchman blanched at the threat of retribution in his tone. “Yes yes. Hero confessed to everything.”

Villain closed his eyes briefly. Even though he had been the one to approach her. His idea. His plan. His fault.

And now here was his beautiful songbird, bleeding on the cell floor.

Villain studied Hero, taking in every bruise and cut and drop of blood.

His face was an icy mask as he faced the guard. “Yes. I can see that.”

The guard had the audacity to smile. “Oh, no. She told us the moment we brought her in. Yelled about how it had been her and her alone who took the device.”

Had she done it to protect him?

The guard waved a hand carelessly at Hero’s crumpled form. “That’s what happened when she told the boss she’d destroyed it.”

He was laughing as he walked away.

The henchmen were beneath him. At least, that was what Villain told himself as they continued down the hall. It was the only thing that kept him from murdering the two lackeys through the bars of the cell.

He couldn’t afford to reveal his connection to Hero. Couldn’t reveal how much he cared. Not yet.

As soon as their backs were turned, he studied Hero. She was on the ground, injured wing partially beneath her. Her other wing had fallen across her body when they dumped her to the ground, and he couldn’t tell if she was breathing.

He reached for his powers to rip the prison walls apart— to get to her—but that part of him was still numb.

His own breaths came in fast as his mind spiraled. He watched the blood dripping from the cut on her head, dark red spilling on the bright white floor.

Please be alive.

Please.

When the door clicked shut and they were finally alone, Villain dared speak.

“Hero.” He hissed. “Hero!”

She didn’t stir.

Villain thought that he could see the movement of breath, but that could just be the A/C ruffling her soft feathers.

He found himself holding his breath, waiting for hers.

The next moments were agony.

Lightheaded, he closed his eyes and took a large gulp of air.

When he opened them again, Hero was watching him, eyes wide, pupils dilated.

“Hero!”

She dropped her gaze, arms trembling as she struggled to push up out of the tangle of her wings, whimpering as the movement jarred her broken wing.

Villain ached to plug his ears, to block out each tiny heart-wrenching sound of pain, but he had no right.

Every mark on her was his fault.

Had they captured her after they brought him in? If he had confessed…

“Hero, they said you told them...” he trailed off as she deliberately twisted away and flared her wings to block him from view. A cry of pain accompanied this action, and her shoulders curled inward as they began to shake.

Villain slid to his knees, fingers uselessly clutching the bars between them.

“Hero! Are you ok? Please, talk to—”

He cut off abruptly as the far door burst open once more, and he forced his voice to go cold as he rose to his feet, praying Hero would understand.

“...nothing more than you deserve you filthy—”

“Ah Villain!”

The cheerful voice fanned the rage burning in his chest, and he didn’t try to hide it as he stepped towards the front of the cell.

“Supervillain.”

“Now, now, Villain.” She laughed as she straightened the cuffs of her fresh white lab coat, but she still had blood under her fingernails.

White hot fury ripped through him. It took every ounce of self control he possessed to school his features as she continued.

“I know you’re a little upset at my bringing you here.”

He growled.

“But as you can see, I’ve caught the true perpetrator, and I’ve come to offer my sincerest apologies.” She cocked her head and offered a smile filled with false cheer.

“And compensation for the inconvenience, I assume.”

She frowned briefly, then nodded. “Of course, of course. What is it you want?”

He offered her a sharp smile. “Let’s just say I’ll collect what you owe me later.” In blood.

Villain was the one powerless and behind bars, but Supervillain was the one who stepped back.

A guard approached at her signal, a pair of shackles in hand.

“Just a precaution,” Supervillain explained, “until you are off my base.”

Villain kept his protests to himself as he extended his hands through the bars and allowed them to be cuffed together.

He reminded himself that even with his hands unbound, there was no way he would be able to free Hero without his powers, trapped as they were at the center of Supervillain’s base, surrounded by hundreds of her people.

He filled his voice with bored curiosity. “What will you do with the thief?”

Supervillain smiled. “I had a canary once. Made a marvelous little pet.”

The memory of Hero soaring through the clouds, winds extended, glorious and free, flashed through his mind, and his stomach churned at the thought of her in a swinging cage, wings folded in, trapped and alone.

The cell door swung open, and Villain cast one last look at Hero, who now met his gaze with glassy-eyed terror. It was a look that would haunt him all the way back to his lair, where he would immediately send for Sidekick and make plans for a rescue against the most secure base in the country.

“Naughty thing kept trying to escape though.” Supervillain slammed the empty cell door shut for emphasis.

As Villain followed a guard down the hall, Supervillain’s bright voice echoed behind him, words that froze his heart and shattered his careful mask of composure:

“Had to clip its wings.”

——————————

*** full credit to @im-a-wonderling for the line, “And here was his beautiful songbird, bleeding on the cell floor.” The queen of beautiful tragedy, everyone.***

[jenomark]

➔Pairing: Hendery x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: Kun + Lucas ➔Genre: Smut (with a plot!) ➔Warnings: Mentions of blood + Vaginal penetration (briefly), Oral (both M + F) ➔Word count: 2,769

➔Summary: Kun has a plan to get you and Hendery to work out your differences, but Kun's plan doesn't quite work out the way he thinks it will. 😉

Anon Request: enemies to lovers hendery smut?? thank you !! any scenario 🤎

You and Hendery watched as Kun brought out two chairs into the middle of the floor to face each other. Hendery's scowl matched yours, which made you even more irritated that any part of you could relate to him.

"I don't see how this will help. It-" Hendery began, but he was cut off by Kun's terse, "-Shh!"

The scraping of the chairs stopped. Kun leaned on the back of one of them and looked at you before looking at Hendery. He said, "I'm tired of this. We are all tired of this. Both of you have more in common than you think."

"We don't." you said, a little too childishly.

Kun narrowed his eyes, which made you fall quiet. "Sit down and work it out," he said, before walking out and slamming the door shut behind him.

"I'm not sitting down." Hendery said. “He can’t make me sit down.”

You were already sitting in the chair, but since Hendery spoke, you wanted to get up and resist along with him. Hendery paced around the room, looking more annoyed than ever. So, you stayed seated because you didn't want to be like him.

"I don't know what he wants us to do." Hendery said. "I have no problem with you. I just don't want to be around you."

"Likewise." you said.

"I didn't ask what you though, did I?"

You rolled your eyes. "Here we go."

"No," Hendery said. He leaned on the back of the free chair like Kun had. "You've had a problem with me since I first met you. I want to know why. It's because I'm so handsome, right?"

"Oh, please."

There was a banging on the front door. Kun's voice rang out. He was letting out a whole series of curse words followed by a bunch of angry grunts. Hendery cursed back and sat down in the chair with a huff.

"We will never see eye-to-eye," he said. "And that is okay. If it's okay for us, it should be okay for them."

"I agree." you said, crossing your legs.

Things were silent. Hendery looked at your legs where your skirt was riding up your thigh. You uncrossed your legs and pulled your skirt down. The way you looked at him in disgust made him smirk, which made you want to strangle him. In fact, you were gearing up for another argument when Lucas burst through the door with his finger pointing at both of you.

"You and you." he said. "Just sleep with each other already."

"What?" you and Hendery both said at the same time.

Lucas dropped his finger. "Just fuck. You know, make love, or, in your case, war. The sexual tension is too thick, man, I can't live here with you both like this."

With that speech, Lucas turned on his heel and left. Though, he didn't slam the door like Kun had.

Shock rippled throughout the room. You and Hendery both stared at each other from your chairs, his eyes wide, and your eyes sizing him up. Truthfully, you had wondered what it would be like to take out the aggression you felt for Hendery on his body. You had even dreamed about what it would be like once.

"Can you believe him?" Hendery said, trying to keep his voice from breaking. "Us? Fuck? When hell freezes over, I think."

But Hendery wasn't immune to the way you were looking at him. Underneath your hot gaze, he began to feel a little warm underneath the collar. He couldn't stop staring at your legs, thinking about your thighs crushing his head while you sat on his face.

Without speaking, you withdrew yourself from the chair and got down on the floor. Your knees hurt crawling your way towards him, but nothing hurts quite like your pride. You would have never imagined crawling to Hendery like that but, somehow, it felt right.

"Not a word." you said, your eyes boring into his. "If you act smug, I will bite down on your dick so hard you'll be pissing blood for weeks."

"Ouch." Hendery winced, covering himself.

You stopped before him, your hands reaching out to touch him. Hendery moved fast, unzipping his jeans and pulling them down for you. He was hesitant for you to see his cock but, when he saw that you were trying not to laugh, he bared himself for you to see.

"Don't laugh at me," he said.

"I'm not laughing." you said, smiling.

You took his cock in your hands and watched him grow. He reacted like he hadn't been touched in years, which did make you laugh. Hendery moaned and bit down on his lips to stop the further humiliation. You stroked him and tasted him. You were trying your best not to think about how much you hated him. Having that control over him made you feel powerful, made it easier for you to suck him off.

"This is...an... unexpected.." Hendery breathed, closing his fists tight as you bobbed up and down his cock. "..event...oh god."

"You cannot be serious." you said.

Hendery came so soon, his cum gushing out of his tip. You didn't swallow him, just let him spill himself onto his pants. The noise he made was inhuman, and it ground you right to your spot on the floor. You watched him, holding his cock upward so he came on his shirt, instead, and trying not to admit to yourself that you ached for him to be inside of you.

When he finished and was through cleaning himself up, you both acted like nothing had happened. Hendery looked at you from across the room, the wet rag moving up and down his stomach. You shrugged and moved the chairs back where they were, ignoring how swollen and aroused your clit was.

Kun thought he had done something. Whenever you and Hendery were around each other, the bickering had lessened. Kun didn’t know that behind his back, Hendery was pushing his tongue into his cheek and staring at you. Mimicking a blowjob was childish, but Hendery didn’t have to know that you went home at night and masturbated to the very thought of him doing that.

Kun also didn’t know that, whenever he and the rest of the guys went out, you would sneak to Hendery’s room and fuck with him. Or rather, you would sit on Hendery’s face like a throne and have him eat you out until he couldn’t breathe.

“When will you let me fuck you?” Hendery asked, looking up at you from between your thighs.

You let your weight fall down onto his face and rubbed yourself against his lips and nose so he would stop talking. It’s not that you didn’t want him to fuck you senseless, just that having him penetrate you felt a little too real. You felt it also brought about the realization that you liked being in his company more than you thought.

After coming all over his face and having him beg you to do it again, you laid in his bed. “This isn’t a compliment,” you said. “but you’re not half bad.”

“I know.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I said it wasn’t a compliment. You don’t have to be so smug about it.”

He held up his hands. “All I’m saying is, you scream more when you’re sitting on my face than you do when you’re not, and for that, I think, is the highest compliment.”

You pulled his covers over yourself until they were covering your naked body. “I really hate you.”

“And yet you’re still in my bed.”

Before you could respond with a not-so-clever retort, Hendery went underneath the covers and started eating you out again.

It was getting a little too comical, you and Hendery’s situationship. You were both sure that none of the guys knew what was going on, even if Lucas occasionally shot you curious looks whenever you were together. Hiding was difficult and resulted in someone getting half dressed and running from his dorm room, as if everything were perfectly normal. To make sure everything seemed up to standard, you and Hendery would stage fights now and again. In reality, those fights got you both hot and bothered enough to slip into whatever place you could and either get fingerbanged or something else that left your legs weak.

What made it truly funny was that you began to grow feelings faster than Hendery grew his erection. Underneath all of his self-congratulatory ways, Hendery was actually fun to be around. You would often stay in his bed for hours just watching videos on his phone in between pleasing and teasing his body. He lasted much longer in bed as more time passed, and the vulnerability that you seemed so scared of in the beginning also made things more exciting.

Kun slammed down a bottle of soda to break you out of your reverie. The party around you zoomed back to life the moment he spoke. You watched Hendery talk to a girl across the room. Though he stole glances back at you, the jealousy was rearing its ugly head.

“Are you okay?” Kun asked. “You seem...off.”

“I’m good.” you said. “I’m great.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Can’t you see, Kun?” Lucas came up behind Kun and stole the soda from him. He drank a long, sweet gulp. “She is in love with Hendery. I knew that it was only a matter of time.”

“Yeah, right.” you said, trying your best to disguise the lie. “I would rather stay single for the rest of my life than ever touch someone like him.”

When Kun and Lucas didn’t reply, you looked at both of them. Kun looked as if he were going to say something but thought better of it. Lucas smiled. For the first time, you felt like you could pity yourself.

“I’m going outside to get fresh air.” you said, excusing yourself.

You walked through the room and felt Hendery’s eyes on you. You could feel him following behind you. When you made it outside and turned around, he was right there.

“Having fun?” you asked. “I’m sure that girl was having the best time.”

“Are you jealous of her?” he asked. “Please tell me yes. It would inflate my ego so much.”

“No.” you said flatly.

“But you’re not denying it.” he said. “Interesting.”

If you had answered him, you weren’t sure he would like what you had to say. Rather than face all of that, you decided to walk away. But Hendery pulled you back. You expected some joke, some kind of puffed up version of himself, but the man you were met with was the same man you met behind closed doors.

“Don’t leave,” he said. “Talk to me.”

“Talking never works out in our favor.” you said, pulling your wrist away from him.

“It helped once.” he said, smiling at the memory of you crawling towards him. When he saw that you didn’t smile back, his face changed. “I’m not the enemy, you know that.”

You wracked your brain for something incredible to say, but all that came out was a lame little. “Yeah, I guess.”

Hendery took a step towards you and looked at your lips. Throughout all of your bedroom excursions, you had never kissed each other on the mouth. His mouth had been all over your body, but never your lips. He touched his thumb to your bottom lip, but it was you who pushed your way into the kiss.

“Wow.” Hendery said, pulling a part. He kept his eyes closed. “That definitely tastes better than-”

You pushed him back and went to kiss him again. This time, with a little tongue that made him moan in approval. You felt that kiss in your whole body, right down to your toes.

“What if I just went upstairs and told everyone they needed to leave right now.” Hendery said.

“You don’t live alone. “ you reminded him.

He groaned. “I’ll pull the building's fire alarm if I have to. “

“I didn’t even agree that I was going to sleep with you.” you said, resisting the urge to cross your arms over your chest.

“You didn’t have to.” Hendery whispered.

Hendery took your arm and pulled you upstairs. He kicked open the door to the apartment so forcefully that everyone looked in his direction. You covered your face in embarrassment. If you met eyes with Kun or Lucas, you didn’t think you would ever fully recover.

“Alright.” Hendery called out. “Party is over. It’s time to leave. Everyone, please make your way out in an orderly fashion, thank you.”

When no one moved, you hid behind Hendery because you could feel him gearing up to say something incredibly inappropriate. But, instead, it was Lucas who spoke.

“You heard the man.” Lucas said. “Party continues at the bar down the street. Drinks on me. Let’s go!”

The crowd cheered and followed Lucas. Before he left through the front door, Lucas winked at you. Everyone filed out in a conga line, yelling raucously and completely ignoring you and Hendery standing there.

Kun stopped before he walked out. “I’m glad you both are working out your differences.”

“We’re working out something.” Hendery said, grabbing Kun’s shoulder and pushing him through the door. He shut it behind him and faced you, all of the humor gone from his face, replaced with a pallor that made him look ill.

“I hate you.” you said, but there was no hate in your voice whatsoever.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Hendery said.

You kissed him and brought color back to his cheeks. Rather than stripping him of his clothes and immediately going for his cock, you took things slow. It felt nice to be in his arms. Different, but very nice. You held each other and made out, things getting hotter and heavier as time passed.

“I’m done playing.” Hendery said.

He took you into his bedroom where he sat you down on his bed. Before you, he started dancing and taking off his clothes in a way that made you laugh so hard your stomach hurt.

“Done playing, huh?” you asked.

He took his t-shirt and brought it around your neck. You could feel the heat from his stomach being so close to you. You kissed his skin and looked up at him. You didn’t know when exactly it had happened, when Hendery had become a lover rather than an enemy. You certainly didn’t know when he had become your best friend.

“Yeah.” he said, pushing you back down onto the bed. “I think so.”

Just like that, the energy in the room changed. His kisses were deeper and more sensual. He had stopped the strip tease and had straddled you, his hands roaming up and down your body. It was difficult for you to focus on one thing. Your sexual encounters were usually full of him narrating exactly what he was going to do, but the Hendery on top of you kept you on your toes. He pulled down the top of your dress to expose your cleavage and let his tongue roam free. You let his hands move underneath your dress, pulling it up to reveal your underwear.

“Why does this feel so different?” he asked, looking down at you with his dark eyes.

For a moment, you thought he was talking about your body. You were quiet, not knowing how to answer, though you knew what he meant. When he removed your dress and slowly unhooked your bra and brought your panties down past your ankles, he realized with a shock what you had known all along.

“Oh, I like you a lot.” he said. “I’m an idiot.”

“You won’t find me disagreeing.” you said, sucking in when you felt his lips on your stomach.

“I didn’t ask you though, did I?” he asked, transporting you both back to the very first time you were intimate with each other.

“Maybe you should.” you said. “Maybe you should ask me what I want.”

Hendery stripped himself naked like his life depended on it. He was erect, his eyes full of emotion. “What do you want then?”

“I want you.” you said. “As miserable as you are. As wild as you are. As much as you annoy me, Hendery, I want you.”

Hendery pushed your legs until your knees were in the air. You breathed in deeply and looked up at him. He touched your pussy, his eyes still on you as his fingers brushed against you. “You have me.” he said, before plunging deep inside of you.

[unseelie-robynx]

Doppelganger AU - White Fur

So @winterpower98 drew this, and then @animemoonprincess wrote this, and so i ended up inspired to write this little snippet set in the Doppleganger AU

______________________________________________________

Macaque’s fists were flying. He saw red. He couldn’t tell if there was actually blood or if he was just flashbacks. Because he heard the crackling hiss of the forest burning, the thunder of snapping ang collapsing trees ringing in his ear’s despite knowing that they were on Sha Wujing ’s air ship.

“….ky King!”

That bastard! He was treating it like a joke! Like a game! Like just another thing the oh so great sage could play around with and make light of. Just like everything else!

“…onkey King!”

But what had he even expected? Had he realy thought it would be any difrent? That Sun Wukong would actually care about what had happened to him? Of course not, he should have known better, why hadn’t he known better?

“Monkey King!” This time the panic scream was accompanied with a large thud as something, no someone, the Kid slammed into him and they ended up rolling off to the side.

“Dammit kid, get off me!!” He snarled.

MK only clung tighter, trying to pin his arms. “Ma—Monkey King, I don’t know what MACAQUE did to make you so upset but you have to calm down!”

“He knows exactly what the Hell he did!” Macaque spat managing to wrench one of his arms free.

“N..no.” Came a quiet voice, and Macaque jerked his head to the sound. “No. I don’t, I don’t think I do.”

Macaque couldn’t help it as his lips pulled back, barring his fangs at, well, himself. Blessedly with his soot black fur, its proper color, the only color is should ever, could ever be after what had happened. Macaque was sure if Sun Wukong’s illusion still bore the mockery of what was once silvery and pure, he would lose it.

Again.

“Don’t mock me, Macaque.” He spat at the Monkey King. “You don’t get to make a mockery of that night, of what happened to us. You weren’t there so don’t you dare claim the right to make light of everything like that!”

“Ma—Monkey. What are you talking about?” The bastard had the gal to honestly look confused.

Macaque might have blacked out. All he knew was that he was being held aloft by Sha Wujing as he snarled and cursed.

“—they laughed as they set the fires you know! The damn celestials were laughing as the set Mount Huaguo ablaze, mocking and calling it justice! And where were you? Nowhere! No when people actually needed you, you were nowhere to be found! All because of your thrice damned pride!”

“You weren’t there either!” It looks like the Kid had taken to holding the disguised Monkey King Back as well, although at this point their audience had apparently grown significantly, and was looking extremely confused.

Macaque couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh at Sun Wukong’s words. “I wasn’t there? Of course I was there! I was right in the heart of the blaze, I heard them scream, I heard them die when I wasn’t fast enough.”

The echoes of dying gasps and stuttering heartbeats echoes through Macaque’s mind.

“I don’t know how many times I fell to the blaze. Again and again and again. As the trees fell and the ground seared, and ash and soot charred even the air itself.”

“N..no.” the look of realization and denial Sun Wukong was displaying sat strangely on the face he borrowed from Macaque, “That’s not… you weren’t… you’re still…”

Alive is left unsaid.

Macaque couldn’t help it, he broke out into hysterical laughter, something that caused the onlookers to take a step back, evidently thinking they were watching the Monkey King come completely unhinged.

“My name’s not in Book of Life and Death anymore, remember? I can die a thousand times, each more painful than the last, and every time I do, I. Just. Wake. Back. Up.”

Idly Macaque thought he should probably savor the look of dawning horror and realization in the other immortal’s eyes, but somehow it just tasted bitter.

Like ash.

“Put me down Sandy.”

“I’m not so sure—”

“Put me down. I need to be alone.”

The Water Spirit obliged, and Macaque took the opportunity to bolt down into the bowls of the ship.

He needed to be alone.

He needed to get himself back under control.

He needed to be as far away from Sun Wukong as he physically possible right now.