#clay... made me want to feel pain over this okay-

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi, I just wanted to ask: If you end up writing something for the monsterfalls au do you think you could do something where reader helps to groom Ford or Stan's newly acquired wings and them just loving the attention and care they give them? Also, love your stories and thanks if you decide to do this.

Stan, while thinking his new appearance was great for scaring kids on Summerween, hated his stone wings that weighed like a pair of cinder blocks.

They made sleeping difficult! How do you make sleeping difficult?! Apparently becoming a stone gargoyle.

That wasn’t even the worst thing either. Ford told him once after he complained about how his wings felt itched and irritated, almost like an itch he couldn’t scratch, that his wings needed constant preening whenever necessary as to avoid such situations from happening.

However Stan couldn’t exactly reach everywhere that needed preening and grew annoyed but his saviour arrived in the form of you.

‘Doll face! Just the person I’m looking for, would you mind helping me with my wings? They’ve been a pain in my ass this entire morning and I could really use some help in getting to the spots I can’t reach.’ He says as you examined his wings, strong and durable just like him, but oddly enough were soft like clay underneath; also just like him

‘I’d be happy to help Stanley but why me? You could’ve asked the kids or even Ford to help preen.’ You asked and Stan stiffened as he remembered the fact that Ford told him about preening; it was a mating thing to display the bond between mates amongst other reasons, which was mainly why he wanted you to preen his wings for him.

Stan scratched the back of his head. ‘Eh, none of them are in the house, doing their own thing or whether and even if they were they’d probably pull out the wrong feather.’ He quickly explains himself, hoping you’d buy it.

‘Okay, why don’t you lay down on your stomach and I’ll get to work.’ You replied after a brief moment of silence and Stanley sighed in relief as he was quick to flop on his bed, displaying his beautiful wings for you to gawk at.

Ford maybe a sphinx with pretty wings but you found Stanley’s wings even prettier, they looked as though they have priceless minerals within them, glistening beneath the light. They were a beauty to behold for those who actually cared to look at them and it never failed to take your breath away. ‘Beautiful.’ You murmured to yourself as you began to gently pull out the loose stone feathers that weighted like a pebble within your hand.

Stan felt like he could’ve fallen asleep then and there with how therapeutic he felt, he could feel his wings getting lighter with each loose feather you pulled, growling lowly in content as he closed his eyes and focused his mind on the way your hands carefully navigated his sturdy wings. He could’ve told you to be a bit rougher as they were like ordinary wings, but he throughly liked the way you treated them like they were glass and the way you run your fingertips in appreciation of them while counting the minerals within them, thinking he wouldn’t notice but he did and he couldn’t help but smile softly to himself.

He could happily stay like this forever if he could but he knew he couldn’t, so Stanley will take whatever time with you he could and keep it close to his heart to remind himself that someone does care about him and his stupid stone wings.

Ford took immense care of his wings but he often forgets that he has them when he’s deep in thought, which leads to him knocking stuff over, smacking Stanley, you or the kids accidentally with them and so on.

His wings were beautiful, majestic and fluffy, unlike Stanley’s which were the colour of gunmetal or cold stone or even gravel.

So whenever he forgets that his wings needed preening, he won’t know until you point it out to him, which is what you did.

‘Ford, did you forget to preen your wings?’ You asked as Ford looks over his shoulder and at his wings, where he could obviously see there was a few feathers that needed to be removed.

‘Ah so that’s why I’ve been in such discomfort as of recently, thank you my beloved for pointing it out. I shall preen them as soon as I’m done here.’ Ford replied but you pressed your hand onto his shoulder.

‘Why don’t you let me preen your wings for you?’

Ford blushed, he has read somewhere that pressing one’s wings was a thing only done between mates, or even that of a courting ritual amongst some bird species, but not only that but preening one’s wings was also seen as a means of survival and self care of one’s being. So the thought of the of you doing his wings for him had a whole lot more meaning to him as he would very much like you to preen his wings, but feared that he might make some…noises of enjoyment from your actions.

You saw his hesitance and said. ‘I’ll be gentle but then again it is all up to you as they are your wings, that and I don’t want to see you in discomfort or pain.’

Ford’s features softened as the blush died down. ‘Okay my dear I trust you with my wings.’

You smile as you sat yourself behind him and began to get to work in easing the loose feathers as carefully as you could, making sure you weren’t using more forced them necessary while praising Ford and his beautiful wings. ‘Your wings are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, but then again they only reflect the person blessed with such wings.’ You then sweetly kissed where his wings connect to his back, a sensitive spot for Ford, causing the man to take a sharp breath as you do so before relaxing once more.

He was a little tense to start off with but gradually Ford felt himself melt under your carful touch and caresses as he purrs low in the back of his throat, tail slowly swishing in a display of his happiness and content regarding the current situation. He knew from that moment as you placed the loose feathers into a neat pile by your feet that he didn’t want anyone else to preen his wings but you.

Then again he was never in dispute with this idea of you preening his wings, he was just a bit awkward and unsure how to ask such a task of you without it coming across too strong, or that you didn’t have a choice but to agree to preening his wings. He just wanted to spend time with you and it just so happened that his wings were also in a state of disarray when you came in, all of which was completely unplanned and purely coincidental, but Ford couldn’t help but thank fate for this moment for he would treasure it forever and always.

‘You okay Ford? I think you’re…purring.’ You spoke with a smile upon your face when you felt his tail hit against your foot, finding it adorable as the purring coming from him.

‘Yes I’m perfectly fine my dear, perfectly fine.’ Ford reassured with a smile upon his face. ‘Perfectly fine indeed.’

[angelcent]

ABOUT A GIRL・❥・S. GOJO

from an old ask: how do we feel about tattoist!gojo?! and your first tattoo being done by him. contains. tattoo artist gojo, tattoo virgin reader, grungepunk!gojo, fluff

lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıı — about a girl / nirvana

✧˚ · . tattoist!gojo is constantly recommended by people because he's known for several things: his pure attention to detail, his versatility in tattoo styles, how light his hand is, and how comfortable he makes his clients feel. he can be a little overwhelming and intimidating, though.

✧˚ · . unlike suguru who can be a bit pretentious and internally judgmental about his clients choices, tattoist!gojo really doesn't care as long as it's not something too offensive.

✧˚ · . his studio is decorated with an assortment of movie & concert prints, as well as pictures he's taken with suguru and shoko or their other friends. at the front desk is his ugly clay coffee mug that megumi made for him as a child that he now uses to store pens. it has a lot of personality and makes you feel at ease when you walk through the doors and fill out your paper work.

✧˚ · . when you first meet satoru, he doesn't take much notice of you because he doesn't want you to feel leered at; it's a common occurance for male tattooists to make others uncomfortable; and you're trusting him with such a vulnerable process, so satoru keeps his distance. keeps it professional.

✧˚ · . as it's your first time, he gives you a rundown of the entire process and is honest—blunt—about the pain you'll experience, but also reassures you that you'll be okay. "anyway, don't give that much though," he grins, absently twirling his pen. as if he hadn't just almost frightened you out of the door. "I'll take good care of you, hm? leave it to me." and he says it with such self assured confidence, that it completely eases your nerves.

✧˚ · . tattoist!gojo texts you a checklist in order to prepare for your appointment—what clothing is best, possible snacks to bring (water is provided), an on-call friend in case you want to be picked up, and oddly, what music you like?

✧˚ · . whatever is your music type is, you walk into his space on the day of your first session with it softly playing inside the shop. tattoist!gojo is talkative; walking you through his entire sanitation process and the tools he'll be using. unbeknownst to you, satoru is observant in his daily life and in his profession. he quickly caught the way your shoulders were drawn up with nerves, how you wiped the palm of your hand over your thigh. and the more you hear him talk, the more relaxed your body language becomes. it's why he does it.

✧˚ · . tattoist!gojo in an old washed out band shirt again. it's what he always wears, and most belong to suguru. his best friend has given up on his clothes being stolen after so many years.

✧˚ · . tattoist!gojo just as talkative when he's finally putting ink on your skin, and it surprisingly keeps your mind off the pain. sometimes you tune him out, but the rumble of his attractive voice keeps you grounded. satoru will talk about anything and everything. he tells you about his first tattoo—three eyes behind his ears on each side. six in total. and how he got them done at this small punk show when he was sixteen and egged on by his best friend.

✧˚ · . tattoist!gojo has ink all over his visible skin— arms, neck, you even catch a peek of more inked skin below the collar of his t-shirt when he leans down. what's cute is all the small doodles in the empty spaces between the bigger pieces, and he tells you how he did most of them himself whenever he's bored. some are done by friends, like a small happy face near his knuckle from haibara.

✧˚ · . as much as he tries to keep this professional though, satoru slowly becomes attracted to you over the course of your session. he rarely hits it off with someone so well, and he finds himself listening intently to every piece of information you give him about yourself.

✧˚ · . he can be a bit of an asshole sometimes, but you either call him out on it or bite back. he loves that.

✧˚ · . tattoist!gojo is great at calling to check up on your healing, giving you reminders on how to maintain it until the next session. he can't help but want to hear your voice, so he calls instead of texting or emailing like he usually does. you don't know any better, though. works in his favor.

✧˚ · . on your last session, tattoist!gojo is filled with the pride that never gets old at seeing the piece almost finished. what was once a mere idea is now brought to life and forever inked on your pretty skin. and you seem excited about it as well.

"see, not so bad now, was it?" he hums, wiping at the final touches. he doesn't bother to fight back the smirk. "told you I'm the best." "hm, you're alright. I guess." you tease, chuckling when he immediately looks up at you looking like a kicked puppy. "I'm kidding. thank you, satoru. really. I'm already thinking of what to get next, actually." if he were a dog, his ears would be perked up. tail wagging. he almost wants to barf.

"yeah? you sure you're not just saying that cause you'll miss seeing me?" he jokes, but deep down he's hoping you'll want him to remain as your future artist. even if that's the only way he'll keep seeing you, he'll take it. he's enjoyed far too much the way you make him feel wanted. "maybe I am." you murmur. swallowing your pride, you let the words spill out of your mouth. "but what if I wanted to see you sooner? you said I should go to your friends show this weekend. it'll be my first time, so it'd help to have you there." as soon as the words come out of your mouth, you're already regretting being so bold. satoru is just a friendly guy, he obviously just wanted his friend to get support and probably says that to everyone. so you backtrack immediately. "b-but if you can't or don't want to it's okay! sorry I just—" "'course I want to, buttercup. heh, I said I'll take good care of you, remember?" he laughs a little too loudly, quickly looking down at your finished piece. he wipes at the clean skin, pretending like he's working but he's just hiding his reddened cheeks. he hopes the crack in his voice was only audible to him. doesn't want you to see what a loser he is and how much you affect him.

[merriepy]

MAGNET

•. Chamber x fem!Reader

tags: soft angst + remote comfort, oneshot

cw: /

summary: During his vacation in France, Chamber decides to visit his lover who he had to leave behind due to his career

a/n: This story was written over the course of two or so years because I was procrastinating

Words: 2,3k

A lone cafe at the end of the road.

The small Jade Plants and Aloe Vera which were carefully placed by her in front of the entrance gave off a cozy feeling; one like home. Maybe that's why he felt so drawn to this place - as if pulled by a magnet. He always returned, even now.

Chamber's work at the Valorant Protocol has always been overshadowed by the distrust of his colleagues. Though he wouldn't say that they excluded him on purpose from certain missions, he knew that some agents avoided sharing their work and findings with him. Not that it bothered the weapon designer - he imagined that it would turn out like this the moment he stepped inside headquarters for the first time. He wasn't particularly upset. The Valorant Protocol was an elite squad, if they weren't the ones to suspect something bloody red behind his perfect reputation then nobody would.

However, that didn't mean that it wasn't exhausting for him. Sure - it was his job. The Valorant Protocol was only a stepping stone for his ultimate goal, and despite trying to be on friendly terms with the other agents, he treated it as such.

He always had this tension in his heart whenever he was on his way to visit his old high school sweetheart. Their past was a difficult one, leaving scars that they never managed to fix until they eventually ripped open everything they used to have - like a carnivore dismantling its prey. Somehow he wished that he could've done something to make it work out, but the damage it had caused was too immense. Eventually, he moved away, leaving her behind to pursue his ultimate goal, not trying to think about what must have been going on in her head at that time. He knew about the agony it would cause her, but he had to ignore the feeling of guilt for his own sake, though it was more than just 'being selfish'.

But he learned not to care.

And yet they would always return to each other - some form of guilty pleasure -before reopening the wounds that caused them to fall apart, with the pain growing bigger and heavier each time they acted on their desires. Deep down he would always year for her touches, for her voice to tell him that everything was okay until their fighting would drag him back to the cold reality. One he destroyed with his ego.

He couldn't help but smile when he saw that the interior still hadn't changed. Everything looked just like the last time he came to visit her. The Aloe Vera plants hanging from the ceiling in self-made clay pots, the dark brown counter with the 90's jukebox right next to it, the abstract monochrome paintings beneath a sign saying "It's Always Coffee Time", even the orange light from the sunset felt as if he was reliving a memory from the past. Slowly, he moved his left hand over one of the wooden tables. It brought him back to his time with Culverin and the French military where he used to visit this place by far the most.

"Vincent," her voice brought back so many emotions within him that he longed for during his absence, " I missed you." The man looked up as he heard the sound of a door closing in the back. Behind a counter stood a woman, her arms resting on the working surface made out of marble as she smiled at the guy in the middle of the room. Before he could reply she made a hand gesture. "We've closed already, no need to rush." He walked over to her and softly kissed her forehead, "I missed you too, (Y/N),"

She returned his kiss with a smile. "Do you want to drink anything?" she asked, turning on the coffee machine standing behind her without even looking. The man carefully sat down on one of the bar stools in front of the woman and just watched her doing her job before answering. "You know me," he whispered, "I'll take the usual." She laughed while playfully patting his head. "You never change, Vincent."

No, he never changed - at least not when spending time with her. Suddenly he was a 20-year-old aspiring PMC marksman again who used to visit his high school sweetheart's cafe on a daily base. He remembered it all so vividly, how they were sitting at the counter together until the middle of the night, how he could talk with her about everything, and how amazing the taste of her drinks was.

"Your order, mister~" she announced as she placed a cup of coffee in front of him before sitting down herself. She yawned, causing Chamber to frown. "Had a stressful day, my love?" He reached his right hand out and carefully placed it on her cheek. "You can tell me everything."

Her gaze wandered aimlessly through the shop, purposefully avoiding his question. She didn't want to start another fight by saying something wrong, so she just kept her mouth shut. "If you don't want to talk about it-" "No, it's ok," she answered rapidly, cutting the man off, "I merely had a lot of customers today. Nothing special."

Obviously, Chamber wasn't satisfied with that answer yet he didn't want to continue asking. He knew what happened in the past. So he just nodded, continuing to drink his coffee while waiting for the woman to start another conversation.

They ended up sitting in silence for at least 10 minutes. The sun had faded already, and most of the room was covered in darkness. Only the dim lights from behind the counter were visible. Chamber had just finished his drink and carefully placed the beautifully decorated cup before him. "Delicious as always, my love~" The woman smiled faintly, her hand tracing the sides of the counter as she still kept avoiding his gaze. "So... you're done?" The man flinched slightly at her peculiar word choice. "I mean, it's your place. If I should leave please-" "No no no!" she immediately yelled and cut him off. "It's not like that. I just, I thought you wanted to leave."

Chamber grinned as he stood up from his chair and walked over to his long-lost girlfriend. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him with his chest pressed against her back. Vincent grabbed a lock of her hair and tucked it behind her ear. "So you want to stay close to me, my love? My, I didn't know you missed me that much." She softly placed her hands on his and gave into his embrace. "I never said that I don't want to have you close by." He chuckled before kissing her neck a few times. Shivers ran down the woman's spine as she felt his lips on her skin. "So I can stay for a little longer?" he whispered into her ear once he was satisfied with his work. "I suppose," she answered, "but only if you tell me a little bit about your work."

It had been a while since he had talked with her about the Valorant protocol. She knew a lot, more than she should at the very least. He wasn't hesitant to give out classified information from time to time if she was interested in hearing it. He smiled and pointed to one of the benches to their right. "Let's go then, love."

He took her hand as he guided her over to their place. His grip was protective; firm yet comforting. She followed right behind him. When he sat down he pulled the woman onto his lap. His hands were wrapped around her waist once more as he made himself comfortable on the sofa. She reluctantly adjusted her position. Chamber laughed softly and started stroking her head. "I've missed you so much, my dear." Her expression seemed sad. "Yeah, I know."

She restrained herself from fully pouring her heart out. She knew that there was no place for her in his life. Not with Kingdom back then, and not now with Valorant. And it was selfish to ask. He had told her about so many things. Omega Earth, how the agents of the protocol defended humanity and all the struggles and hardship they went through. And the teleporter to the other side that he could help to finally get working. They needed him more than she did.

A soft touch trailed down the side of her body. It was her most sensitive place, the skin just above her waist. And he knew that, for he had stroked this place so many times when they were younger. Wilder. Free.

"I don't like how lost you are in thoughts, my love," he whispered into her ear with such a demanding tone. "Tell me what's wrong. Please." Chamber's head rested on her shoulder and he pulled her even closer, into a protective hug. It was caring. Loving. And she hated it.

"Vincent, I," she tried to find the right words. And maybe she even tried to drag out the moment. Maybe she was scared. Or maybe not. She couldn't tell as all those emotion clouded her mind. "I just can't anymore. I've missed you so much. And every time when I think you're finally over me and I'm finally over you. You just. Stand in front of my door. And I hate it." One single tear was rolling down her cheek, joining all the others that she had shed over him so many times already. "If I can't be with you... then we should finally draw the line."

His expression was unreadable. Somewhere between sadness and acceptance. She wondered if he saw it coming, that's she wouldn't keep up with their on-and-off-relationship for the rest of their life. "I have other plans," she continued, her voice cracking as she tried to hold back more tears. "I want to settle down, have my café, maybe a family if the circumstances allow it. But you're focused on your career, and that's ok, but you need to be honest with yourself. I need someone who sees me as their first choice. If you can't give me that- then leave me for good." Her hand reached out to him, visibly shaking, and softly trailing over his cheek. She smiled at feeling his skin on her fingers. "I want to go with you. Or want you to stay here. One of it, I don't care. I can start over somewhere else. Please, Vincent. Give me an answer."

Chamber placed his hand on her cheeks and softly stroked away her tears. His gaze carried a silent apology. It was enough of an answer for her.

Her heart was torn apart, and even though she wanted to be mad at him so badly, she knew that he was hurting as well. At least she liked to tell herself that because she couldn't face the faint possibility that he actually didn't care.  Despite wanting to do as she said and tell him get out, she buried her face in his chest and gave into his embrace one final time. As he reciprocated her hug, he placed a kiss on her forehead.

They didn't talk for they were being too pain struck to even mumble a single word. The woman's eyes closed as she listened to her lover's heartbeat.

Soft rays of sunlight were dancing on her skin as she got woken up by movement below her. As the girl tried opening her eyes which reacted badly to the sudden change in contrast. The street outside had yet to become as busy as usual, but she could tell that the people walking by were messengers of the soon to arrive morning rush. "Fuck, it's morning already! I can't open the café like this," she complained as she hastily looked around to find a clock somewhere. "I'll just call in sick and ask someone else to open the shop later today." While she was running around trying to organise everything for her coworkers later, Chamber had been simply watching her without leaving his place. It took a while for her to notice he was still there.

She tried to avoid his gaze knowing that she had to face him one last time until it was farewell. Her nails scratched over the wooden surface of the counter as she tried to hold back her tears. She was frustrated. With herself. With him.

He had approached her from behind in the meantime and trailer his fingers down her curves. "I want you to be happy, love." The sad tone in his voice echoed through the building, weaving together a melody of despair with the sound of her tears dropping down to the ground. "But if my job in the protocol is ever complete, I promise that I will marry you."

The pain ate away at her, and hearing his promise didn't make things easier for her. She wanted to forget but knew deep down that she could never get over him. "You promise?" she asked with her voice being but a mere whisper. He would return. And they could have a future together.

"Of course my darling." He placed one final kiss on her lips to manifest his promise before heading towards the door.

And as you watched him disappear into the sunrise, you trailed your fingers over your lips where he had just touched you.

You knew he would return.

For you.

[snoocupz]

okay I'm a sucker for a rare pair and even more for a rare pair ot3...pls propagandize me im very curious :0

Hi! Oh my god, that makes me SO happy! I never expect my little shipart to get this much attention - let alone have people like the ship and wanting me to talk about it!

I wasn't sure whether I want to share my whole headcanons about them getting together yet or not, and decided to instead collect some headcanons about these 3 that I love! So here;

My little collection on Klapolloquill headcanons! 🩷

- Simon and Klavier have briefly been friends before Simon went to jail. Klavier, as a new and young prosecutor, desperately seeked contact in the office and loved Simons style from the start. Dark clothes, an interest for music and an ex bass player - all while still being somewhat of a nerd abour psychology & birds. He had tried to build up an active friendship to him - unfortunately it was cut short due to Simon admitting to murderer and going to jail. (Klavier should feel this pain again in the following years as not only his best friend Daryan, but also brother go to jail).

- Once finally free past Dual Destinies Apollo and Simon build up some sort of friendship thanks to Athena. Quickly they realise they were mistaken about each others characters and after a whole they start to bond on a deeper level due to the trauma they had experienced... mostly because of Apollo losing Clay, and Simon losing Bobby. (Bonus angst points if Claypollo and Blackbright were secretly canon and they bond over the loss of their ex lovers).

- Klapollo starts dating first. Klavier had feelings for Apollo early on after meeting him, but it took a lot of time and change for them to finally get together.

- Klavier, however, is also the one who is self aware about being Polyam. He previously had crushes on more than one person at the same time and once time passes and he builds up the friendship to Simon he wanted to have he eventually starts crushing on him. Hard.

- He confesses his crush to Apollo, fearing the worst. It is a huge insecurity of his and he doesn't get it across without tears and apologies, clarifying how much he loves Apollo as well, just to be... very perplexed about how calmly Apollo takes it. In fact, Apollo starts gently teasing Klavier about his obvious crush. He finds him adorable, blushing when looking at Simon like this. Apollo is ultimately the one who convinces Klavier to ask Simon out.

- Unknowingly Simon has a little crush on Apollo anyways. This young defense attorney shines brighter than any sun, he is smart, pretty, such a gentle and stronger soul than he believes of himself. Simon enjoys himself around the both of them, so endlessly much, and with passing time Simon feels lovable again, after prison and losing Bobby (the only person that made him feel lovable before).

- Eventually all 3 shyly allow themselves to get closer. Especially Klavier with his gigantic crush on Simon can hardly believe it everytime he gets to sit between both of them on the couch. Just having his knee slightly touch Simons makes his head spin and they keep smiling at each other more when passing each other on the prosecutor halls.

- And hey! Who would have thought! They fall in love! Each of them, with one another. And in fact, their ideas of love fit together perfectly. All 3 of them long for nothing more but a calm, domestic lifestyle.

- What that looks like...? Easy. A cozy apartment, many plants, falling asleep cuddling, with one cat and one dog at the side. Breakfast on the balcony as Klavier slurps his vanilla latte, Simon makes them eggs, and Apollo tries to stop Taka from stealing bacon straight from his bagel.

- Mikeko (Apollos cat) adores Simon. No day passes where this cat doesn't chose to sit on his legs or lap. Whenever the cat chooses him, Simon is careful to not move a single inch. May she rest as long as she wants to!

- Taka (Simons hawk) adores Apollo. After being afraid of her for months (sorry, Taka has always been female in my brain LMAO) Apollo realises that she is not only well behaved but also seeks active contact to him. Simon falls even more in love with him when seeing Apollo feed the bird on the balcony and daring to pat her feathery head.

- Vongole (first Kristophs, then Klaviers dog) is the most sweetest girl of girls. Greeting all of them with enthusiasm and DEMANDING to sleep in the bed at all times, she won each of their hearts and can be considered the true Queen of the house!

- However, it can be complicated to cuddle, ESPECIALLY if you are Simon Blackquill, and a living cuddle sized heater. He must always sleep in the middle automatically as Apollo loves to rest his head on his chest while Klavier has the most freeziest hands in the history of forever. And yes, he will randomly warm his hands under Simons shirt at every possible moment.

- Funnily enough, their household works very smoothly together. Apollo cooks at most, but his desk easily looks like it explodes after one use. He keeps leaving things around and forgetting about them. Simon cleans, and he has no issue cleaning after Apollo at times. Klavier is the one to take the dog and plan their dates, and no date has ever been dissapointing, he's fantatsic at planning them!

So at most! This ship is really fluffy and comforting in my eyes, so here are some random thoughts on them! Thanks for listening to me rambling! <3

[livingforthewhump]

Whumper let out a long sigh as he stretched back on the couch, back cracking against the cushions. Whumpee was curled in the corner, his own back aching, but the protective instinct to make himself as small as possible won over any kind of pain he felt.

Unfortunately, that didn’t stop Whumper from looking over at him. Nothing he did ever seemed to stop Whumper. He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his long legs, and surveyed Whumpee.

Then he reached out a hand. “Come here.”

Whumpee hesitated, but the decision had already been made for him. Whenever Whumper spoke, Whumpee never had any choice but to obey, never mind his feelings on the matter. Shakily, he peeled himself up from the floor and walked over to Whumper. It felt weird to be standing over him. Whumper was so much bigger, so much taller, and Whumpee wasn’t usually on his feet a lot anyway. Still, Whumper’s gaze was as much a prison as anything else, and there was no question as to who had the power there.

Whumper looked Whumpee over, humming in thought. “You don’t have your collar on right now. But I don’t particularly want to go get it…” Whumpee’s heart jolted and he took a half step back. The collar was never a good sign. Whumper’s hand shot out, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back in with an iron grip. “See, that’s exactly why you need it, dumb thing,” he chided.

After a moment’s pause, he reached up and slid his tie off over his head, keeping it knotted. Using the hand holding Whumpee’s wrist, he tugged Whumpee down, successfully pulling the tie over the other man’s head and securing it at his neck.

“There we go,” Whumper murmured, using the tie to tug Whumpee in closer. Whumpee's throat bobbed in a swallow. The tie was pulled too tight by Whumper’s hand, digging into his adam’s apple and all but choking him. The tension tugged him into an odd angle, leaning over Whumper on the edge of his balance, centimeters away from collapsing on top of him, leaving his shaky core to work overtime to keep him upright.

It certainly didn’t help when Whumper’s hand left his wrist and started moving up his side, ridiculously warm through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Stop—” Whumpee tried, but it ended in a grunting cough when Whumper jerked the tie, sending Whumpee toppling forward.

His arms flew out to catch him, landing on the back of the couch on either side of Whumper’s head, caging him in in an odd imitation of the pose Whumper was so fond of taking with Whumpee. Still so obvious to them both that an imitation was all it was. All the power lay with Whumper—not in the circumstances Whumper had forced them into or the resources Whumper had, as Whumpee had tried to convince himself at first. It lay within who Whumper was, and who Whumpee was before him. Nothing more than clay to be molded. A game to be played.

Whumper’s arm was looped around Whumpee’s waist now, stopping him from pulling away. His arms were shaking from the effort of holding himself up like this.

“You look scared, Whumpee…are you?” Whumper murmured, eyes sparkling. His voice dipped down low. “Answer me, boy.”

Whumpee swallowed thickly. “Y-yes.”

“Yes…?” The word was a warning, as was the slight tightening of the hand around his waist.

“Yes sir.” His eyes screwed shut as he spoke. A mistake. Whumper tugged him forward further, bending his elbows more and making him tremor from the strain.

“You think you don’t deserve this. Is that right? You think you deserve to be free of me?” There wasn’t any of the anger Whumpee expected in his voice, mere curiosity and amusement.

Whumpee opened and closed his mouth, entirely unsure how to respond. Whether to be honest and give the wrong answer or to face the punishment for lying.

Whumper seemed to take his hesitation as its own answer. “That’s okay, I’m not mad.” His hand left his waist—other still firmly grabbing the tie—and slid up his chest to take hold of his chin while Whumpee arched away from the touch. “I understand where you’re at. Up until now I’ve only ever hurt you, haven’t I? And you can’t understand why, so you assumed I was being unjust. Does that sound right?”

Whumpee’s heart clambered in his chest. Nothing Whumper had just said was wrong, exactly…but it also didn’t sound right.

“Whumpee?”

“Mm—yes sir,” he whispered.

“Good.” His voice was silky and gentle and it terrified Whumpee more than anything else he’d done. “Relax, now, boy, I’m just talking to you. You can let go, I’m not going to let you fall.” His arms wrapped around Whumpee’s middle, bracing around him as he obeyed and let his arms fall limp under his weight. Whumper supported him, maneuvering him to sit on the couch beside him with his knees tucked underneath him.

Then he grabbed onto the tie again, making Whumpee to lean over his lap, shoulder pressed against Whumper’s chest.

“You fought me so much in the beginning. Do you remember? It wasn’t that you were afraid of being hurt—that’s only natural. Your defiance was against me. You didn’t want me anywhere near you, no matter what I was going to do.” As he spoke, Whumper traced his hand across Whumpee’s curved back, his shoulders, slipping into his hair. Whumpee held back his very breath for fear of attracting even more attention.

He leaned forward suddenly, lips brushing up against Whumpee’s ear as he murmured, “You were very bad to me, Whumpee.” And then he relaxed again, and eyes roving over Whumpee’s half-cowering form. “But I’m sure we’ll make up for that later. In the meantime, I’ve had to give you a form of exposure therapy, if you will.”

Whumpee shuddered at the term, sucking a breath in through his teeth when Whumper’s hand found his face, cupping his cheek and turning it up to look at him. From the way he was leaning against Whumper, they were very, very close together.

“I had to hand-feed you the worst possible scenario, little thing. You were rebellious no matter what I planned to do, so I worked with you until you were okay with whatever I wanted to do by helping you not fight against the most scary things. And just look at you now.” His thumb stroked over Whumpee’s face for emphasis, then he wrapped both arms around the poor boy’s shoulders and pulled him fully into his chest. “You still don’t understand yet, all the way. But it’s helped. Hasn’t it helped you feel better, Whumpee?”

His throat burned. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to cry. More than anything he just wanted to not be here anymore. “…yes sir.”

Whumper’s arms squeezed tight for a moment before relaxing, sinking Whumpee into his lap to lay down. “It has, I can tell. And we’re not done yet. We’ll keep working until you’re willing to let me do anything, so long as it’s me who wants it.”

Whumpee’s bottom lip wobbled. He hated the way Whumper looked down at him, like he was a sacrificial lamb on an altar, just waiting to be destroyed for the sake of his own sins. Whumper’s hand pet over him absently before grabbing ahold of the tie and wrenching it tight, cutting off Whumpee’s air completely.

“Don’t worry, boy. I’ll make sure to keep you needy in the meantime. After all, what’s the real joy of receiving something if you don’t want for it first?”

—

General Whump Taglist: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @twistedcaretaker @lonesome--hunter @poppys-writing @endless-whump @multifandoms-multishipper @shadowylemon @utopian819 @whumpkitty @journey-the-panda @freefallingup13 @prettyboysinpain @1becky1 @temporary-whump-sideblog @chartreusephoenix @thelazywitchphotographer @mylifeisonthebookshelf @badluck990 @lockedupuniverse @luna-rein @broadwaybabe18 @pinescales-whumps @silverwhisperer1 @embersalive @the-bloody-sadist @batfacedliar-yetagain @nicolepascaline @whump-angst-fluff-repeat @susanshinning @didieatyourdog @corvid-voidbur @insane-writing-things @thebaffledtiewriter @morning-star-whump

[fowlfics]

How Frog Earrings Saved the World

Short fic written entirely within discord based on a picture of tiny clay frog earrings one of my friends made!! I might clean it up and post on AO3 later bc it ended up at nearly 1.3k, but for now, here it is

Contains: Sabo, Luffy, Ace, cute earrings, brotherly bonding & potential spoilers for Dressrosa if you're reading this before then, light angst

"Ooooh, this looks fancy!" Luffy absently called out towards his brothers, digging a small jewelry box out of the pile of trash.

He dusted it off as his brothers approached, only opening it when they were right over his shoulders.

".....whoah," Luffy gasped out, staring at the contents with stars in his eyes.

"That's rubbish," Ace scoffed derisively, moving back to the pile he had been digging through before.

"Ace is mean and grumpy," Luffy stuck his tongue out at Ace's turned back. The boy seemed to have sensed that - or he just knew Luffy far too well - and had raised a middle finger over his shoulder.

"He's right though," Sabo said, straightening up. "It might be pretty, but it's rather worthless."

Pouting, Luffy turned to look at him, pushing the small box with two very tiny clay frog earrings inside into Sabo’s face. "But I like it!"

Sabo smiled. "That just means you can keep it, yeah? It could be part of your treasure that you wear- or, well, I guess you can't, but-"

"I can wear them?" Luffy repeated eagerly.

"Well, no, your ears don't have the holes-"

"I can wear them in my ears?!"

"I- You know what," Sabo sighed. "Yes, you can wear it in your ears."

***

"Stop. Wriggling," Sabo said, exasperated, putting the needle down from where he had almost pressed it to Luffy's ear. "I can't do this if you keep moving!"

"Sorry," Luffy said, but didn't seem to be able to stop waving his legs excitedly.

"Here," Ace passed by, grabbing one of Luffy's hands and dropping into it a random beetle which he had probably just picked up from the ground. "That ought to keep him busy."

He was right, of course. Luffy stilled completely, his hand brought up so close to his face that his nose was nearly touching the beetle.

Sabo didn't waste the opportunity. It was a testament to how engrossed Luffy was - or how large his pain tolerance was - when he didn't even wince at the feeling.

By the time the beetle finally remembered it could fly away, Sabo had pierced both of Luffy's ears and placed the frog earrings in the holes.

"Okay!" Luffy straightened out. "I'll stay still, I promise!"

...Seems like he had genuinely not noticed anything Sabo had just done.

"No need," Sabo smirked and continued before Luffy could complain. "Go take a look in the mirror."

"!!!" Somehow, Luffy was capable of perfectly conveying that with his whole body. "You put it in!!! That's so cool!!! It's so- Oh, you put both of them in my ears?"

Frowning at the sudden change in tone, Sabo stepped closer to Luffy, looking his reflection in the eye. "Did you not want that?"

Fiddling with the earring, Luffy had somehow managed to pull it out of his ear without causing any damage. "There's two of them, so one's for you!"

"Oi!" Ace, the eavesdropping idiot, butted in. "What about me?"

Luffy didn't even look his way, too focused on Sabo. "Ace called these ugly trash so he won't get one."

Sabo couldn't help but snicker at Ace's outraged grumbling.

"Alright," he said, gingerly taking the offered frog and putting it into the ear holes his parents had insisted on.

For the first time, Sabo didn't mind them forcing him to get a piercing anymore.

"Now we match!" Luffy exclaimed excitedly, throwing himself at Sabo.

"Now we match."

***

Luffy spent a lot of time on the cliff overlooking the sea, one hand always resting on the frog earring.

He only had one, now. One frog. One brother.

"Ugh, you gotta stop being so... so maudlin!" Ace complained, pacing behind Luffy as he had for the past half an hour. "Sabo's gone, so what? We're still here! And, more importantly, our treasure is gone, so we have to start from scratch-"

"I don't care," Luffy mumbled into his knees petulantly.

Ace's sigh was unnecessarily loud.

"Look, I-!" He paused, taking a deep breath. "Would it make you feel better if I had a matching earring with you, too?"

Luffy straightened up, looking over at Ace in surprise. His oldest brother had always scoffed at the idea before; For him to offer...

"YES!" Luffy jumped up, throwing himself at Ace. "YES PLEASE!"

***

Makino didn't know how to make earrings, but that was okay. Luffy could figure it out on his own. He just needed some thin wire and black paint and the resulting beetles were pretty misshapen, but they were still recognizably bugs, and that's all that mattered.

(Ace winced when he saw the results, but didn't comment. )

Makino did know how to pierce ears, though. She did Ace's right one only - he insisted on that - and re-did Luffy's free one, seeing as the hole Sabo had made had closed already with nothing to hold it open.

As they both looked into the mirror - Ace with his arms crossed, Luffy with his full of snacks - for the first time sine the Terminal fire, Luffy smiled.

***

"Hey, Sabo!" Koala called, waving a newspaper at him. "Come look at this!"

It could have been anything - with Big News Morgan's style of sensational writing, "have been published in a newspaper" wasn't really as much of a filter as Sabo would have liked - but knowing Koala, this expression spelled shenanigans.

Sabo approached cautiously, in case the newspaper was just an excuse to prank him.

But no; As he got closer, Koala folded the paper to show the bounties, pushing it towards Sabo.

"This new guy who just got a bounty has the same earring as you do!"

"...That's weird," Sabo said, taking the newspaper. "Maybe it's a really popular design in the East? Damn, 30 mil as his starting bounty is pretty wild, though."

"And we've never seen it before?" Koala said skeptically. "Oh, the bounty's one thing, but also! He's not just from the East; He's from Dawn Island!"

Sabo blinked. "Maybe this kind of an earring is just... Really popular on Dawn Island?" He repeated his earlier suggestion.

He's not really sure what Koala had been expecting. For him to magically regain his memories just because a guy was wearing a frog earring-?

"And!" Koala raised a finger, taking the newspaper back. "Not only does he match with you, he also matches with-" She triumphantly held out two bounties. "This guy! They both have a... Well, I don't know what it's meant to be, but it's clearly the same thing."

Sabo blinked as he glanced between the posters. There and back, Strawhat and Firefist, Luffy and Ace.

"...He said he would never get an earring," he mumbled. "Called it trashy. Called it a risk in a fight. Called it _ugly_. Who's wearing ugly earring now, huh, Ace? At least mine's a fancy one..."

"Uh, Sabo?" Koala looked over the top of the bounties. "You realize you are talking to pictures, right?"

"Never mind that!" Sabo groaned, rubbing at his eyes. "Where the hell am I meant to find someone to do custom earrings for me?"

"...?"

"Luffy's going to be easy," Sabo motioned towards his bounty. "I'll just find him and tell him I'm alive and he'll be happy as a clam. But Ace? I'm going to have to do some SERIOUS grovelling for all those years-"

Koala seemed rather baffled at that idea. "... You have - had? - amnesia."

"Yes," Sabo nodded. "And he's going to give me so much grief about forgetting him."

"I... don't think he would hold this against you?"

"Then you clearly don't know Ace. Anyways, that's why I need the custom earring; We both match with Luffy, but if I want to get away only lightly maimed, I'll have to find something cool to match with him. Do you think he'd like a scorpion?"

[kingdomhate]

Happiness and Tears (Part Four)

Jack looks from Penny to Puttnam, his expression pleading. "Listen, I'm not going through with this. Clay is my friend!" Penny rolls her eyes and Puttnam looks away. "I'm not doing this.." Penny looks away and then snaps her head back. "Look, you would still be sent to jail either way. It was your idea." Penny argues, her eyes on fire.

Clay's eyes, the only part of his body he can move due to the anesthesia, flicker frantically back and forth. "What the.... how can this happen?! What about Y\N?! We're gonna get married!" Clay screams, but it's all in his head. His jaw is completely paralyzed. Clay could feel the tears pricking in his eyes, the thought of dying, like this... You'd never know. How can people you've known for a good while be so heartless? The feeling of nausea stopping Clay from attempting to fight the paralision.

"Penny, he's not even awake!" Jack practically screams, his eyes desperate but determined. "How could you actually carry this out if he's not awake? He doesn't know!" As Clay listens, he can feel himself moving, his hands coming to his face, ripping off the tape on his eyes, removing the IV's and sitting up. All while Jack, Puttnam and Penny argue.

Clay stands up, his eyes red and puffy as the tears settle and reduce, replaced by pure rage. He looks down at the surgery table, to see himself, eyes open and wide, but body paralyzed on the table, chest open. Clay abandons the sight to circle around a pleading Jack, "How could you have come up with this idea?!" Clay demands, but he knows Jack cannot hear him. With a heavy and remorseful sigh, Clay sulks out of the room, his feet hitting the cold, hospital tile floor with a sense of hopelessness. But the hopelessness is not why he's walking down this hallway for, no, it's you.

Clay makes his way to the waiting sections, and he sees you as well as his mother, you both were sitting next to each other, your bag clutched tightly in your hands, so much so your knuckles were white. His mother was in no better condition; her face was red and puffy, her lipstick slightly smeared, no doubt due to how many times she's wiped her forehead in pure agony. Clay approaches you, his heart filled with nothing but love and helplessness. He slowly places his hand on your cheek, trying his best to manage a soothing caress, but he could see his hand shaking as it made contact with your angelic skin. "I'm sorry." He whispers, bending down in front of you, taking your hand in his. "I'm sorry we couldn't live the life we wanted, the life you deserved." He squeezed your hand, the tear in his eye falling to the floor.

"I'm so sorry, Y\N..." Clay looks at you, his eyes as remorseful as he reminisced his visions of everytime he ever saw you. His eyes frantically snapping shut as he leaned back, sitting on the tile in front of you, his knees up to his chest as his hands tangle in his hair. Sobbing, he mutters sorry over and over. His head jerks up, his eyes stopping at his mother as he tries to imagine what his mother would say. What would she say? "Remember, Clayton, you are nothing like your father." No, that's not what he needs.. "Clayton, where do you think you would be if you did not have to suffer some kind of pain?"

Was that it? Clayton stood up, spun around and practically ran back to the operating room. ".....Inject it." Penny's voice commanded. Clayton threw the door open and walked back to see himself on the operating table, again. Jack took the heart, a syringe handed to him by Puttnam and hesitated shortly before injected it. Clay's anger was fueled yet again.

Your POV

You have been waiting for what seemed like forever, before you see Jack approach you, and you jump up, meeting him halfway."Is he alright? Is he safe? Please tell me he's okay, please.." Jack's face was solemn, despite your best attempts at pleading. Lilith did not get up, but she watched closely. "I'm sorry, Y\N. I really am." Your world crashed. Everything became distorted as Jack went to put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. You sunk to your knees, hand in your hair. Lilith rose to her feet, striding over to the both of you. "Listen here. You get back in there and save my son." She commands, voice a deadly low. "I'm sorry, ma'am. We can't. It was a bad heart." Lilith's teeth clench. "I said, go save my son." She says, her voice as firm and stern as ever. Jack just stands there for a moment, before trying again, but Lilith turns to you. "Come here." She commands and you get to your feet and follow her. "Get me one of Clay's pill bottles." She says, extending her arm.

"What? M-Miss Beresford, I c-" Stopped short by Lilith's intense gaze as she turned her eyes to yours. "Now." She growls. Your hands shake before reaching down into your bag and grabbing a random pill bottle, handing it entirely to her. She takes it, looks at you once more before going to the cafeteria area. "One coffee." She places the right amount of money on the counter and goes to a table, sitting down and resting her head against the pure white concrete pillar conveniently placed next to her.

Jack doesn't bother staying for any longer, sensing that you need time to yourself and heads back to the operating table. He was ashamed of himself. More than he'd ever been. He killed a man. An innocent one. One he had befriending, one who was scheduled to be married. Just starting his life, getting ready. A tear prickles at the sight of Clay, eyes lifeless under the tape, and chest opened, the heart he poisoned not beating. How could he have done this? For the debt, to repay it. Penny smiles at him, Puttnam going outside to find Dr. Lupin, still on the phone somewhere near the waiting area.

"You did good. No one will know." Penny promises him, the smile vibrant on her twisted face. Jack knows, and the words stab his heart like he stabbed the syringe into the perfectly healthy heart that was supposed to help Clay. Lilith was handed her coffee, and she looked at the pill bottle in her hands, before opening it, and popping one. Then two. Three. Four. The whole bottle. Then drinking the coffee. It was all only a matter of time. In minutes, Clay was looming over his lifeless body again, shaking his head.

He began walking home, leaving the hospital, and once he did, everything came back to him. The epiphany of knowing he died because a group of doctors he trusted planned all along to kill him. He opened the door to his house, and began ascending the stairs, curling up on his bed, his hands folded below between head and pillow.

As his eyes slowly closed and sleep consumed him, he heard a familiar voice. "Hey, Clay." His mother said, and Clay's eyes opened immediately. "What are you doing here?" He looked at his mother's figure in the bedside chair, a soft smile on her face. "You need to come back." Clay scoffed lightly. "How? In case you haven't noticed, I'm dead, Ma." Lilith looks at him seriously. "And what about Y\N? Are you just going to leave her all alone?" Clay frowns. "How, Mom? How can I go back to her if my heart is poisoned?" Lilith smiles, leaning forward in her chair. "I'm here. You go back. Use my heart." Clay stops, his eyes gazing into hers intently. "Mom...."

You sit down and then see the doctors rush out, and they stop at you. "Where's Lilith?" They question at once and then stop as they see Dr, Neyer, Lilith's surgeon boyfriend, walks out with Lilith's dead body. "What happened?!" Penny questions but Dr. Neyer pushes passed and starts for the Operating Room, pulling up another table, placing Lilith on it and getting ready in his doctor attire, squeezing on his gloves and mask, he uses a scalpel to open Lilith's chest. "And what do you think you're doing?" Puttnam says, wanting to step in. Penny stops him and glares at Jack, before they both began to make a break for it. Jack stays for a few more seconds and then heads to his office.

Dr. Neyer transfers Lilith's heart into Clay and the poisoned one into Lilith. Dr. Lupin comes back inside. "What'd I- Oh, hello!" He says with a bit of a chuckle, oblivious to the situation. "Get over here." Dr. Neyer instructs and Dr. Lupin complies, grabbing a fresh pair of gloves and putting them on. "Ready the electric shock." Dr. Neyer instructs, and once more, Lupin complies. Dr. Neyer diligently works on rewiring the heart into the empty spot of Clay's chest. A minute or so later, he notices the heart isn't beating, he instructs Lupin to initiate the electric shock and it doesn't work. "Again." Neyer commands and the electric shock is initiated again, and again and over again, boosted up and then seemingly not working. "I'm sorry, sir... he's gone." Lupin says solemnly. But Neyer demands the electric shock again.

The police are called to the scene, as you call them, under the suspicion something was not right. Especially after seeing Dr. Carver and Dr. Puttnam bolting down the staircase together. The police arrive and search, to your surprise, the two doctors are caught and arrested, apparently after a police offer separately talked to Jack, who spilled everything. Hearing the news stopped your heart, and you couldn't believe ANY of it. But there it was, as clear as day, the evidence and confession.

Minutes after the police arrest Penny, Puttnam and Jack, Dr. Neyer emerges, a happy but tired smile on his face. "We did it." He announces to you, and you tilt your head before realizing; Lilith asked for those pills so she could could save Clay. Tears ran hot down your cheeks as you hugged the surgeon. It was over. An hour later, you were allowed to see Clay.

"Hey, gorgeous." He smiles and you sniffle, wrapping a gentle arm around him, kissing him feverishly. "What's wrong?" He asks, but you decide not to tell him. Not now. "I love you." You tell him, kissing him once more and intertwining your hands together on the recovery bed. "So much." He smiles at you, squeezing your hand. "I love you more."

*2 1\3 hours after initially being pronounced dead by doctors Harper, Carver and Puttnam, Clay would survive his heart transplant.*

.

.

.

.

This took an hour and a half!

Tags:

@darthgloris

@sweetcheesecakesblog

@haydenpookiebear

[wooziswonderfulworld]

Overdoing It

Tw: drug use, overdosing, drug caused seizure, suicide, teen death

———-

Floyd watched in silent shock along with everyone else, hands covering his mouth momentarily stunned

He’d just been set free, he was alive, Velvet and Veneer where about to be arrested when Velvet collapsed

At first they thought she was acting dramatic. But then she started shaking, bad, her eyes rolled back and her limbs seized wildly

Everyone gasped seeing the former pop star having a full on seizure on stage, Veneer was panicked, trying to protect his twin from the camera

“Help me!” He cried out looking desperately at the trolls

Velvet was seizing from how much Troll essence she had consumed, she essentially overdosed herself

No one really knew what to do-But Floyd did, and no matter how much the two hurt him, he wasn’t going to sit back and watch

Floyd looked at Veneer, with seriousness “protect her head” He instructed “how long has it been since this started-?” Floyd asked “Veneer! Her head” Floyd repeated seeing him frozen but it seemed to knock him back to reality and he quickly held her head

“About a minute” Branch said “okay-keep timing it” He said earning a nod “Is there an ambulance coming?” Floyd asked the police “yeah they’re on the way” they said

John Dory seemed to notice some people in the crowd recording “HEY DIP SHITS-PUT YOUR DAMN PHONES AWAY THIS ISN’T A LAUGHING MATTER” His voice echoed, luckily Trolls naturally could echo their voices to be heard, it made sense with how small they where

Viva and Clay managed to find away to turn the large screen off so now it was near impossible to see what was going on

“Veneer-I’m going to need you to remove her shoulder pads” Floyd said “But-her head??” He asked eyes brimming with confusion (and tears)

Poppy, Bruce, and Clay extended and formed their hair into a cushion, luckily troll hair was pretty thick so that also helped

Veneer swallowed thickly before taking the shoulder pads, glad his sister was sensible enough to wear something underneath

“I-I don’t understand why this is happening!”

“Well I assume neither of you did your research before deciding to huff Troll essence. We’re basically Drugs to other creatures” Clay said “using us to much can cause an overdose and well this”

Veneer looked teary eyed, he should’ve done his research! Damn it damn it damn it!

“Veneer! I know you’re beating yourself up, but now is not the time-“

“Guys-I don’t know much about seizures but it’s been 7 minutes” Branch said, the ambulance pulled in and just in time Velvet stopped shaking but she was still unconscious

Veneer quickly followed jumping in

Floyd didn’t care about a thank you nor did he expect one

“I warned her” Floyd stated sadly, She might have abused and tortured him consistently for 2 months, but he didn’t want the teen to over do it

Which is exactly what she did

“Shut up troll! You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Velvet sneered after spraying herself a total of seven times

Despite the agonizing pain Floyd still tried to get into her head “Velvet-I do know! I’m literally a troll!”

Velvet just rolled her eyes tossing him to the side

“Floyd-come on man, we need to go home” Bruce said bringing him back to reality

“Do you think she’ll be alright?” Poppy asked, Floyd was silent “no” he answered solemnly “fame can do stuff to a person, especially one so young” He said shaking his head

A few days into their trip home they heard the news

“Former teen superstar Velvet was pronounced dead after overdosing on “Troll essence” Her twin Veneer is currently in prison for the crimes the two and will be up for parole in 4 years”

Floyd sighed, He knew it would happen, but it was still sad. The two were what? 16, 17? Velvet ended up killing herself wanting to be the best, and Veneer wanting nothing more than to make his sister happy, and now he was all alone.

“Is it weird that I feel responsible?” Floyd asked no one in particular

“No…You didn’t ask for them to do that, I’m sure you warned her. I mean, even when the Bergen’s wanted to eat us they knew better then to have more then two trolls…at least that’s what Bridget told me”

Floyd nodded softly looking over at the pop queen who had spoken “I did warn her, she didn’t listen though, too caught up in the fame and luxury I was providing for her with my talent”

“Do you think…this will get us classified as some type of illegal drug?” Poppy asked, Floyd was silent, would they?

“I would assume so, at least over there, maybe other places too. More laws in place because of us”

“What do you think will happen to her brother?”

Floyd looked up thoughtfully “hard to say-He really loved Velvet…It’s gonna be tough for him but, he has potential to continue his life as a better person, I just hope he knows that too”

“You sound unsure” Poppy said looking at him, Floyd sighed “he saw his twin seize in front of him and probably saw her flat line and then got thrown into prison. He lost his only family and other half and got his freedom taken…he’s only 17 too, and it’s not like he can be released on bail considering his crimes involved kidnapping, torture, attempted murder.”

Two months later they got the news

“Two months after being put in jail, former pop star singer Veneer was reported dead in his cell, MRPD have yet to issue a cause of death but it’s safe to assume suicide due to losing his twin Velvet after she overdosed on Troll essence which has now been deemed as an illegal drug.”

Floyd was afraid this would be the outcome, unfortunately he was correct.

“So, I guess that means we can’t go back there huh?” Clay asked “I mean if we’re considered an illegal drug now, it’ll be hard for us to go anywhere outside Trollstopia”

“I mean, Vacay Island doesn’t really have a law enforcement? At least that I know off, everyone knows each other and I’m the only trolls there and they’ve never tried to use me to get…high, or something so I think we’ll be safe going there, but other places with other species…aside from the Bergen’s, I’m not sure” Bruce said

“I assume you expected this outcome?” Poppy asked looking at Floyd “as unfortunate as it is…I did, I hoped he wouldn’t but, I’m not surprised” He said shaking his head

Some might say this was karma, they did say Karma was a merciless bitch

Floyd shook his head, He didn’t care about how ugly karma could be, despite being tortured and used for months, Velvet and Veneer didn’t deserve to die

Velvet who wanted to be noticed, heard, loved and Veneer who wanted to be with his sister. So caught up in what he provided for them, Velvet ended up using two much that it killed her, despite knowing it would she didn’t stop…was that also suicide? and Veneer who couldn’t stop her because he knew it made her happy and he got to spend time with her. Now he didn’t have her, he had no one anymore, he felt so hopeless that suicide seemed to be the only answer he could think off

At least they were together again. Twins could never be separated for to long after all.

Floyd glanced at his white roots, a reminder off what happened, he wondered if others would accuse him off murder, he was the cause of everything after all

“You told her though, you told both of them, they didn’t listen” He reminded himself, He was still recovering from his time locked up. He didn’t need to add guilt to that list

Walking out of the bathroom he laid in his bed and fell asleep. He didn’t know things would pan out this way, or maybe he did and didn’t want to believe it would. Life was fucked up though, you couldn’t really do much to change what happens to people

He’s just glad that now there will be more precautions around using Trolls for personal gain, he just hoped others were smart enough to listen.

[lilyofthesword-writes]

What Should Be - Part 3 (Batman)

Summary: You have a loving family, a cozy home, a great job - What more could a person ask for? But what do you do when an injured man dressed as a bat shows up in your home in the middle of the night?

Pairing: Batman x Reader (Platonic or Romantic)

Word Count: 1,024

Warnings/Disclaimers: Blood, injuries

Counterpart: Alchemy (Please read first)

Part 1 | Part 2 |  | Part 4 | Part 5 | Epilogue

Masterlist

When your family finished dinner, you picked up the dirty plates and made your way into the kitchen, fully intending to clean up after having cooked for everyone. It only felt right after napping the day away… And only waking up after your partner came home from picking Torrence up from the bus stop, something you were supposed to do, something you did every day. 

Your phone had shown no missed calls, but Torrence’s phone clearly showed outgoing calls to you and then Jesse when you didn’t answer. Your stomach churned with every step at the thought of, for all intents and purposes, forgetting your son. 

I shouldn’t be a parent… I’m terrible…

You bit your lip as you placed the dishes in the sink. Your limbs itched with a strangely familiar feeling to run. Run and no one will get hurt again. You shook your head vigorously. A pair of arms wrapped around your waist.

“Babe, let me worry about this. Go relax. You’ve been moving nonstop since—”

“No,” you cut off your partner. “No, I just— I need to do this.”

They paused a moment before pulling your hands from the sink and turning you around, forcing you to look at them.

“Hey,” they started gently. “We’re not mad, you know. We’re just worried about you. Don’t beat yourself up over one day.”

You gazed into their eyes, hoping to see what made their words feel… Well, you weren’t sure exactly. They weren’t… It didn’t feel right. You couldn’t find it.

Torrence took this moment to fling his arms around you. “We just want you to be okay.”

A lump in your throat formed and bobbed. They were trying to make you feel better. But that was exactly it. They were saying what you wanted to hear but… It wasn’t… Wasn’t genuine. It was hollow, hollow like their eyes. 

You hugged them back. 

Later that night, you found yourself flipping the medallion between your fingers, attempting to let the cool clay ground your mind. You had made sure Torrence was tucked into bed extra well and teasingly did the same for your partner before settling into your office. You still had work to do. You had to finish this project and presentation. It was your chance to move up the ladder and be next in line for the Archeology Department Head.

But that dream…

Those two men, Nightwing and Red Hood. How did you know them? And who the hell was Batman?

No. Not the time for that. Focus.

Your thumb skimmed over one of the symbols, one of your nails catching in the grooves as you traced it. You know this, but from where? You stood and went to the bookcases and stacks to rummage through your collection again.

You checked the shelves one more time. Nothing. Stepping back to survey the spines, you jumped as a book stack toppled over. Dust plumed as the books hit the floor. Had this been in an office at the university, you’d be embarrassed by the mess. Sighing, you kneeled and began picking up the books. One of which caught your eye. A leather-bound tome laid near. You lifted the book into your lap for a better view. Your thigh twinged in response.

Could this be…

You stood, letting out a small grunt as you did. Your leg seared with the motion. You made haste to your seat. With the medallion in hand, you scoured the handwritten pages. Deep within the tome, you found what you were looking for: Symbols that matched the medallion, symbols that told its story. To you, it was more akin to an amulet.

Silence. Conceal. Shield.

The dull pain in your thigh surged into an electric shock. The amulet snapped in your grip. Its pieces fell to the table. You panted, clutching your leg, willing the misery to cease.

Just breathe… Deep and slow…

Your eyes clenched closed, and instead of seeing darkness, there was the inside of an old warehouse. In front of you, an older man stood grinning. His hair was shockingly white, and he had dichromatic eyes. There were patches of stitched skin running along his face. The most concerning part was the rusted scalpel in his hand. His name came to you in an instant — Doc Benton.

What is this? It feels…

The pain left as suddenly as it came, leaving only a ghost of its former self, and you were able to open your eyes. You flexed your fingers and massaged your thigh. Through your pajamas, you could feel a raised scar running down from your hip to your knee.

What? 

You wrenched up your pants leg to find nothing. Rubbing your fingertips against the skin, it was smooth. Other than some stretch marks that had grown over time, there was nothing. Releasing the fabric, your hands came up to cradle your face. Maybe you were getting sick. That had to be it. Right? You snapped the tome shut and left your desk. It was time for bed. 

As your fingers wrapped around the doorknob, you heard it. 

Clomp. CLOMP.

You shook your head.

No. Not this again. It’s not real.

You decidedly fling the door open. There was nothing to be afraid of. Unless you’re afraid of looming, bulky men dressed as bats.

There he was again, the man from the night before. 

“Batman,” you whispered the name echoing in the back of your mind. Deep down you knew it was right.

Your body froze while your mind raced at a staggering speed.

He’s not— He can’t be. But he’s right there. Can a hallucination be this realistic? 

You could see every spec of stubble on his jaw, hear every hoarse, heavy breath, smell every bit of sweat clinging to him. Overwhelmed, you stumbled away only for him to pull you back. Despite his beaten appearance, his grip on your wrist was bruise inducing. It grounded you.

He mumbled your name. It sent a shockwave through you.

With that, he warped into nothingness like before. And you fell into a heap on the floor, heart pounding as you tried to catch your breath.

[simply-strangers]

A bit of a long-winded question but here we go.

How would Joker approach a now terrified partner after he is committed to Arkham and post-Arkham? Imagine his partner is good-hearted, almost a pacifist, and they’re just heart-broken over how their sweet Arthur has become a killer. They visit him at Arkham and cry over believing that they could have somehow prevented Arthur’s murders but Arthur tries to comfort them: he feels confident and better than ever. When he gets out and approaches them after Arkham, they are TERRIFIED. They’re scared Joker is going to kill or manipulate them, while Joker is devastated by how much pain and fear he’s caused them. He is still desperately in love with the one good thing in his life so— how does he try to fix this situation and save his relationship?

Very ready for your hot take.

- ☁️

This was so long ago, hello again my darling Cloud. How are you? I'm sorry I've been away but I've cracked a few knuckles and drank a few V8 Energy's (they're healthy and flavorful) so this SHOULD be well.

Title: Predator and Prey

Sorry it’s a tad short but I thought this scene in my head was really cute and I didn’t want to be distracted by backstory.

taglist: @ajokeformur-ray

#####################################

“Please Y/N just listen!” Arthur, Joker, whoever the fuck he was stepped towards you into your apartment and you could almost scream but a hand clamped over your mouth muffling it.

Hot tears streamed down you face and Arthur’s eyes looked pained and sorrowful.

“Shh, Shh, Shh! Please let me talk okay? Let me explain it all okay? I won’t hurt you, I’d never hurt you okay?” Arthur’s voice is soft and coaxing, nothing like the horrible horrible clown on TV.

Still you saw the green staining his roots and the white clay paint around his jaw. He was a murderer. A terrorist, but he wasn’t hurting you. He was holding your head with unprecedented gentleness and not even really keeping you that still. You just responded to his touch that way.

“See? See everything’s okay.” He uttered and a light thumb came and wiped away a stray tear. “I’m right here.”

“Why’d you do all of this? Why did you go off the rails?” You cried into the telephone and sobbed into your sleeve.

“I’m sorry, please don’t hate me but I’m happier. Everything is better this way. It’ll all be so much better.”

“You promised it was going to be better, so explain to me how the HELL killing people on the street and parading around causing riots is better!” You sobbed and you caught a glimpse of Arthur’s eyes. The shattered glass that broke in those soft seafoam eyes. The glass that had been glued over and over again till the owner gave up on trying to fix it.

“They’re bad people Y/N, people who do nothing for those they hurt or leave dying on the streets anyway.” Arthur explains quietly. “Those people, who riot, they’re crazier than me. They’ll do anything without a leader and that’s dangerous. Someone good could get hurt and I don’t want that.”

He reached out for you and you let him hold you.

“This is necessary. I promise, I’ll never hurt you or let anyone do so.” Arthur vowed and it vibrated deep in your chest to your heart. It was true and you cried into his shoulder.

The shoulder of a man who should be behind bars awaiting a death penalty or something and a man who loved you wholly and would never lay a finger on you. Or let anyone else do so. 

Arthur. You could have Arthur, and maybe one day embrace Joker. Maybe one day you could see his mission, even if it made your gut twist and your throat tighten with fear. He was dangerous, but not to you. A lion protecting a mouse.

Predator protecting prey.

“I love you Y/N.” Arthur said quietly and only then did you realize you had sunken to the floor, wrapped in his gangly arms.

“I love you too Arthur.” You finally responded and slipped your arms around his middle, pulling him close and closing your eyes against the King of Crime in Gotham.

[teecupangel]

came across this post about Daniel Cross time traveling and kidnapping young Desmond and Lucy https://www.tumblr.com/teecupangel/720599469635371009

and I'm a sucker for the trope of villains who come to take care of a child in some shape or form and because of it go through a redemption /become slightly less evil arc so what if Cross's refusal to put Des in the animus starts as "if he goes into the animus the Desmond that killed me will come back" but as he spends time with Des it shifts to "you want me to put my son child I kidnapped into the same machine that drove me crazy??? no way in hell"

Okay. So the link above actually has added ideas by @fancysteawberrybeard in this post (And their additional ideas really strikes what you’re looking for, nonny).

I've been debating if I should post the additional idea I have because I'm not sure if my idea is okay... Anyway, if you prefer to keep it on the side of 'dysfunctional fake family au' with a possibility of a happy ending, then this is not what you're looking for.

This goes straight to bittersweet ending or downer ending depending on who wins and who you're rooting for XD

.

.

Desmond doesn’t understand what had happened.

His last memories were the pain of burning from the inside as he activated the device.

No.

It was talking to Clay in the Gray...

Finally agreeing to his plans...

Then…

He was somewhere he didn’t recognize, being shaken by a man who looks too similar to Daniel Cross to be a coincidence.

“Desmond? Desmond! Can you hear me? Do you know who you are?”

Does he know who he is?

What kind of question was that?

He was Desmond Miles.

He had always been Desmond Miles.

“Daniel, give him some space. He might be in shock.” A woman with black hair and…

Does he know her?

No.

He didn’t.

But she called the man in front of him as Daniel.

And…

Desmond looked down at his hands.

They were smaller.

His tattoo was gone.

And the calluses weren’t as bad as they were when he left the Farm when he was sixteen.

That reaction must have meant something to the one named Daniel because his hands on Desmond’s shoulders tightened slightly.

His voice was void of any emotion as he asked, “Desmond Miles. Do you remember me?”

Desmond raised his head and stared at the man in front of him.

There was fear in his eyes.

And…

Grief.

Desmond didn’t understand why but he knew the answer to the question the man had asked, “Daniel Cross.”

There was a beat before Desmond added, “Traitor.”

Cross’ expression turned into a kaleidoscope of rage, sorrow, grief and fear. Desmond’s instincts kicked in, and he slapped Cross’ hand before he could grip his neck and jumped back.

“Bring him back!” Cross screamed as he lunged for Desmond once more.

“Daniel, stop!” The woman screamed but Desmond ignored her, instead focusing on Cross. He had traveled back in time just as planned but something definitely went wrong.

But Desmond could think of that later.

All that mattered was that his body was still too young to take out Cross right now so…

Desmond ran towards Cross and slid between his legs, quickly skidding to the other side of the room. He quickly patted his pockets and felt a switchblade which he took out.

Where did he get the switchblade?

He doesn’t know.

It didn’t matter.

Desmond ran out of the room and threw the switchblade at the panel on the other side once the door had closed behind him, effectively short-circuiting the door and imprisoning Cross inside.

He blinked to activate his Eagle Vision and his eyes widened when he saw that Cross and that woman’s figures glowed bright blue.

Only to feel a sting on his temple that made him wince and when he opened his eyes once more, the woman was white while Cross was now red.

What…

No.

Desmond would have to think of what this all means later.

He needed to get out of here…

He wasn’t safe here in Abstergo’s facility…

.

.

24 hours later, Desmond’s face would be plastered all over the world with the name Desmond Vidic. A missing ‘child’ with a grandfather worried about him…

Clay knew what happened immediately and he had Desmond’s code phrase from their previous life added to Erudito’s list of accepted code phrases for their emergency hotline years ago when Clay had insisted that the hotline be created in the first place.

The mentor was amicable to most of Clay’s demands and, honestly, Clay knew that the mentor knew more than he was letting on.

He wouldn’t be surprised if the mentor had a POE in his possession that let him see ‘the future’ or something similar like a book of prophecies written by someone who had studied the Apple for a long time like Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad.

At this point, Clay wouldn’t be surprised by anything.

Not even by a hooded figure appearing in his office without tripping the many security alarms and the patrols.

Clay simply raised his head and greeted, “Hey. I thought you’d use the emergency hotline.”

“Didn’t think it would already be up.” The hooded man replied as he pulled his hood down. Clay recognized him immediately.

Hard not to.

Since his missing poster has been shown everywhere by this point.

“Clay…” Desmond stared at him as he asked, “What the fuck happened to me?”

“Take a seat first, Desmond.” Clay suggested as he nodded at the not that comfortable chair on the other side of his desk, “We have a lot to talk about.”

Desmond sat down almost immediately and Clay felt a sense of relief knowing that Desmond still trusted him.

Well…

Clay wasn’t sure how far that trust went considering this entire thing was pretty much happened because Clay didn't think of the possibility that…

“When he used the Calculations to travel back in time, Daniel Cross hitched a ride.” Clay started, “This is only a guess but the plan was for the two of us to remember everything but, because he was with us when he returned to the past, something went wrong with the transfer.”

“You have a ‘closer’ connection to him than I do and that’s why you were hit instead of me.” Clay continued, “From what I can figure out, he remembered everything when he was put in the Animus the day my transfer was completed and you… your memories were locked as well.”

“And the Animus was the key to unlock it.” Desmond realized, making Clay nod. Desmond stared at him quietly for a moment before he asked, “What did Cross do, Clay? Did he kidnap me?”

“He kidnapped you when you were eleven and…” Clay’s voice softened as he said, “I’m sorry, Desmond. Cross killed your parents the day he took you.”

Desmond grew quiet and Clay knew that the man would grieve for them. He had spent so many years (decades? Centuries?) planning on how to change his past. How he could fix the broken parts that the Miles had… Or, at least… try to do something, anything, to change their family for the better.

“Clay.” Desmond’s expression was blank but his eyes glowed with fury and Clay knew…

He knew…

The time had come to finally break the chains that kept this timeline on the course that the Isus have laid out.

“Contact the current mentor.” Desmond ordered, “We’ll do as we discussed before.”

“We’ll start our own purge.”

[wutheringmights]

Heirs of the Founders: The Epic Rivalry of Henry Clay, John Calhoun and Daniel Webster, the Second Generation of American Giants by H. W. Brands was given to me by my BIL as a joke. I have an on-going joke about one of the men in that title-- one I have been torturing my friends and family about for almost a decade now.

My BIL thought it would be funny if he gave me a book about said man. I thought it was about time I read it.

This book was a pain in the ass. I started this thing back in January, and it took me the full month and a half to read. The book isn't too long, but no matter how much I sat down to read it, I never felt like I made any progress. But I couldn't stop reading it, because I knew I was never finish it otherwise.

And now that I read it (and wrote out my thoughts), I’m sure I hate it.

On one hand, I like history. It was written in a very narrative way, and it was nice to get a reminder that American politics have always been a shit show.

On the other, the scope of this book was really limited. It's not about the lives of Clay, Calhoun, or Webster; but it doesn't offer a comprehensive enough look at the politics of the time to be about their careers. You cannot tell me that there wasn't a contemporaneous Black author who wrote about their policies on slavery as it was being debated.

It's not like there wasn't other figures of American history that wasn't explored. The presidents of the time were given full exposes, and there was multiple chapters on Solomon Northup. But often, Brands would reduce alternative stances to "abolitionists disagreed." Who disagreed? What was their name and what exactly did they say?

All that to say that the way the book talked about slavery was mostly okay. Again, it's limited but it was frank. The country is at a stage where if a book doesn't try to mince the evils of slavery I have to appreciate it.

But you want to know what this book did mess up? Native American history and rights.

First, Brands committed to referring to Native Americans as "Indians." This book was published in 2018.

Second, the Indian Removal Act was skimmed over, if not almost completely ignored. There is a quick reference to it at the end of a chapter about a British journalist's thoughts on Henry Clay. Allegedly, Clay made such an impassioned speech against the act that tears welled in his eyes. That seems like something worth mentioning in a book about Henry Clay's life.

I am convinced this is because Brands adores Andrew Jackson. We spent a lot of time on Jackson's military career and presidency. Everything Brands had to say about Jackson was positive. Was the infamous story of Jackson beating a man with his cane mentioned? No. Did I have to read about how Jackson was a man of honor and principal? Yes. Constantly.

I only finished this book out of sheer stubbornness. I just feel frustrated. This book felt imbued with that American mythologism that makes engaging with any American pop history a minefield to navigate. If I cared a bit more, I would google Brands to see what his politics are.

As is, I just never want to look at this book again. I can't even confidently say I learned anything as I can feel the burning holes of the book's limited perspectives and biases. How can I trust what little I thought I learned when Brands is obviously not telling the whole story. Just look at Andrew Jackson.

[fandomsheadcannoms]

A Little Help ~ Chapter 3

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

Summary: Disappointed by how the evening was going, Y/N decided to have a little break in her pod before the big party began. While on her way home a little rock caused a bit of a fuss, luckily there was someone to help.

Harper still hadn’t let go of my hand, even though we had been searching endlessly through the sea of trolls. Everyone else had found who they were looking for, what if my parents were actually gone? 

It was stupid of me to get my hopes up, it was stupid of me to try and make the perfect first impression, it was just stupid of me. I bit at my free hand, I didn’t bother to even try to stop this time, pain is better than sadness.

“Harper, we should stop,” I mumbled, just loud enough for her to hear “It’s pointless they’re not here,”

This stopped her in her tracks. She spun round wrapping her arms around me “They’ve got to be here somewhere, they’re alive I just know it!”

“Thanks, Harps, but I think I’d rather just go home,”

She looked at me sadly, thinking about her next move.

I could tell she wanted to stay, but she also wanted me to feel okay, I figured it would be easier if I just compromised for her so I said, “I’ll come back in an hour, I’ll just take a short break and I’ll be back to celebrate with you,”

“Are you sure? We can head back to your place and just…” She took a deep breath “Skip”

“I know you don’t want to, don’t worry about me! I’ll be fine, I just need a little quiet time before a big celebration, please go on have fun and I’ll be back,” I plastered a smile on my face to try and convince her.

“I- fine, but if you feel shitty call me up and I will be there”

“Thanks,” I hugged her again, then walked away, back to my pod. Nobody will miss me too much, I’ll only be gone for a little while.

I kicked a rock, I should’ve known better than to get my hopes up, I always end up losing the people who love me. I wonder how much longer I have with Lavender and Harper. I walked past Viva, she was talking loudly and Clay stood next to her, nodding along. 

“Viva, Viva!” A Putt-Putt troll ran up to her leaders “I heard Kismet and Brozone are performing tonight! Is that true?”

I walked too far away to hear the rest of their conversation, but I bet it would be a ridiculous conversation, there is no way Kismet would be performing, I’m sure I would’ve heard if they were back in town. I scoffed at the thought, Kismet returning was just as likely as Candyhearts reuniting, which wasn’t likely even in the slightest.

I bit at my nails, there was no point in trying to control it right now. I continued kicking the rock as I slowly made my way towards the pods, Lavender’s was nearby. A quick little nap might be nice, I could rest my mind for a few minutes then I would be fine to return, Lavender would definitely be looking for me now if Harper didn’t tell her.

The rock bounced roughly against the natural floor, I wasn’t too focused on it, which in hindsight was a horrible decision. I went to kick the rock but miscalculated and slipped on it instead, landing with a loud thud.

I landed right on my ass. The morning just couldn’t get better! As I tried to stand, I attempted to stand on my right foot, another horrible decision. Pain shot up my ankle causing me to cry out in shock. Tears threatened to fall down my face as I tried to get up without injuring myself further.

“Hey! Are you okay?” A voice called from behind me, I stumbled slightly and landed on the ground again.

“Ow” I mumbled, refusing to look at the mysterious voice, I didn’t need anyone seeing me cry “I’m fine, just fell over!”

“You don’t look fine,” He spoke, his voice laced with concern. I assumed it was a ‘he’, the voice was deeper than a feminine troll’s, though I probably shouldn’t just assume.

“Jee, thanks,” I snarked back, in too much pain to even care if I sounded rude “Anything else you’d like to point out?”

The voice came into view, moving around to face me and inspect my swollen ankle, it was that Clay dude. He really was tall, he towered over me for a few seconds before bending down to inspect. “May I?” He gestured to my foot

I nodded, biting my lip, moving my leg towards him had caused another shot of pain.

“I need a verbal yes,” He stared at me seriously

“Yes,” I rolled my eyes, “happy?”

“Very,” He moved slowly and softly as if handling an injured critter, careful not to hurt me further “Well, if I’m allowed, I’d like to point out that your ankle is not broken, just a slight sprain, I can help patch it up?”

“That’s just lovely,” I mumbled, trying to stand again, “Well, thank you for that, but really, I’m fine, I’ll get home and it’ll feel better in like two minutes,”

I began to get up again, much more successfully than the last, but I stifled a cry as I fully stood, my ankle in so. Much. FLIPPING PAIN!!

He rushed to my side ready to catch me if I needed, “You don’t sound fine,”

“You don’t sound fine!” I shot back, brushing him off, “Sorry, I’m good, I don’t need help,” I whimpered as I took a step,

“Just let me take you home and properly patch you up,” He held his hands up in surrender “Please?”

“I- fine,” I groaned.

He wrapped my arm around his shoulders and his arm around my waist. The feeling of his skin on mine felt tingly… I don’t think that's supposed to happen.

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

Chapter 3 haha

To anyone who bothers to read this story sorry I'm a bit slow haha

I don't want to be annoying but comments/likes/reblogs are greatly appreciated! I wanna know what y'all think good or bad!!

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Twenty (Part 3)

It’s close to nine by the time the party actually starts. Loads of very fashionable, intimidating people come into the garden, all of them having some conversation they want to have with Jude, so he’s quickly occupied. I sit at the patio table with a group of girls whose names I forget the moment they introduce themselves to me and try to make all the right sounds as they discuss their college offers, acting like my attention isn’t being pulled towards him every time he moves. 

“It’s got like, the most authentic college experience.” Says one of the girls who won’t stop going on about Trinity. “Like, even having that sort of Ivy League atmosphere you know? And you’re right in the heart of the city. Think of all the choices for lunch.”

“I heard everyone who goes there is up themselves.” Another says acridly, which causes an uneasiness to settle over the conversation. I have an acute sense for these kinds of microaggressions after having Kelly as a friend for over half my life, and whatever this is, the echo of a discord between these girls that I’ll never know the intricacies of, it drags up all sorts of wretched feelings from somewhere inside me, and I want to go and stand beside Jude instead. And where’s Jen?

“Where are you going to college?” One of them shoots a question at me before I can move, and it pins me to my seat. 

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m only after finishing fifth year.”

“Oh, tiny baby.” She comments in a not unkind way, but it makes me squirm. “So like, have you an idea of where you’ll go?”

“Not really, like I probably want to do art, but I don’t know which is the best college or anything. I haven’t really looked into it too much.”

“Oh, just go to NCAD. It’s the only acceptable choice.”

“Okay.”

“What’s it with all these people doing fine arts these days?” The dour one asks of nobody in particular. She’s smoking a cigarette and dropping the ashes right onto the table. “In this economy I actually think it’s bananas. Like, what are the jobs?”

“I dunno. Selling paintings in a gallery.” Someone suggests. “Or doing that street art thing that they do in Montmartre.” The way she says Montmartre in a really pretentious french accent irks me. It reminds me of how people insist on pronouncing croissant the authentic way, even when it’s just been made at some industrial bakery in Clondalkin. 

“You can do loads.” I insist. “Like pottery, printmaking, graphic design, teaching… and actually you can do sculpture, which Jude is going to do.”

The Montmartre girl throws her eyes to the sky. “Yes, we know all about his odd choices.” She peers over her shoulder at him, down on the grass talking animatedly to some guy in chinos. “And I still can’t believe he was so determined to do it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh. Like the way his parents kicked off about it. Imagine, a dental surgeon and an actuary having a son who wants to mould clay as a job.”

“I’d go mental if I worked hard to provide for my family and then had an artist for a child.” Says cigarette girl, who must have forgotten what I said about going to art college. Otherwise she’s being purposefully mean. “Like to the point that I’d stop them from playing with crayons in case they liked it too much.” A couple of the girls laugh darkly. Clearly she’s one of those people that gets a kick out of saying really crazed things just to get a reaction. 

“Oh look who’s here.” One of them says, and they spin around to watch a skinny girl in a sequined top come out through the patio doors and do this bouncy little hop down the stone steps towards Jude. I don’t even have to ask who she is, because I already know. I’ve done a thorough investigation of her. I’ve scoured her social media, I’ve seen every picture of her that exists in the online sphere and I’ve read every status she’s ever written, in fact I’ve already compared myself to her in a thousand painful ways and tortured myself trying to figure out the things that made him want her but not me.

I watch him hug her tightly and give her a kiss on the cheek. “Hi Michelle, so good to see you.” I lip read, and the look that he gives her makes my stomach twist. The chair makes a hideous scraping sound under me as I get up and go inside to the kitchen. 

“Evie, oh my God! I didn’t know you were here!” Jen is there, pouring herself a vodka and coke at the counter. I go over to her and we hug, and I ask her how long she’s been here. “Not long.” She tells me. “I didn’t see you.”

“I was at the table with those girls.” 

“Oh lovely.” She says blandly and loops her arm into mine. “Have you had a drink?”

“Just a glass of wine.”

“Here.” She gives me her cup and then pours herself another. “We’re hardly going to get through the fabled Last Night without a few drinks.”

I nod in agreement. “How are you doing?”

“Ugh, it’s just weird. We’ve always been joined at the hip, and now he’s going. But on the other hand, it’s what he wants, so it makes me happy too. And Berlin is literally two hours away. I’ll just fly over there whenever I miss him too much.” 

It’s actually a comforting thought, that he won’t be all that far away, at least physically. “Still though.” I can’t help but add. “Things change when people go away, there’ll be new friends and-”

“Please, I’m not thinking about this tonight. I already stumbled upon the harrowing mountain of suitcases outside his bedroom after I used the upstairs toilet. I need us to pretend it’s going to be normal for now. It’s all my heart can take.”

We take our drinks outside and sit down together on a rattan sofa near the group of girls I’d just been with. The mean one has all her features screwed up again and is presumably saying something unpleasant. She reminds me of Kelly. 

“Are those girls from your school?” I ask Jen, and she nods. “Yeah. They’re alright, they’re just like, into the drama a bit. There’s always something going on with them.”

“And they’re Jude’s friends.”

“Yes. Kind of. I don’t really know, if I’m honest. They’re just always around.”

“Do you think they fancy him?”

She snorts. “Dunno. Probably.”

I try my best to sound really casual as I ask a question that a huge part of me doesn’t even want the answer to. “And what, did he like, have a thing with any of them?”

“Oh yeah, a few of them.”

I pause and look, really look at each of their faces. They’re all pretty. They’re all cool, and I feel threatened by every one of them. I’m filled with inadequacy once again, a feeling that just keeps coming back around like a malicious carousel to knock me down and remind me that I’m not effortless, individual, confident, artistic or beautiful enough, and unless I can turn back the clock and change every aspect of my life, all the things that have shaped me into the person I am, I will never be. 

 I let my gaze drift down the garden where Jude is still talking to Michelle. The sun is low in the sky, and it turns his skin the colour of toffee, his dark hair backlit in auburn. I watch him with her, his expressive eyes looking at her in ways I’d thought were just for me. His wide, incandescent grin illuminates on his face every time he laughs at something that she says and it makes my heart ache. Everything about him is perfect. His long fingered painterly hands are like something ornamented in gothic stained glass. He has this elfin, feline look to his face and eyes that so many times have made me feel pinned to the spot. I realise that I am entirely, earth-shatteringly in love with him. 

Prev // Next

[thehunterstars]

@bisexualterror and i: let's make all fluffy scenarios with keony and lori, no need for angst in this household

also me: but what if one/both kids show up looking boy (?) and don't want to shape-shift out of fear that tony will be disgusted or something 🥺

keke: you know what bro.....

Shape-shifting has always come easier to Lori, but even Keony, for their fondness of their born features, has always felt as though their skin is made for other things, other shapes.

Their body, their soul was clay, moldable for unimaginable levels of magnificent beauty and horror– and utterly precious in others hands.

Meleable, until their feelings became oh-so-breakable, when the clay dried into something more difficult, fragile enough to shatter and yet harder to manipulate.

HYDRA liked to test the limits of anything and everything. They had to learn to bend, lest they risk shattering, until HYDRA was forced to sweep up the pieces of their messes. Breakage. Failures.

The kids can admit to themselves, late at night when the darkness cloaks them in its warmth like a familiar friend, that Tony is nothing at all like HYDRA.

“What if we’re too… alien, to fit in here.” Keony whispers into the darkness, inhaling and exhaling like the very thought pains them. To be alien is to be too different, and for all their naïveté’ on the world, they have both seen what this world does to those that are different.

Lori shifts in the darkness, green eyes bright and easily finding them, curled in a ball, the wall a solid presence behind them. They had been given rooms, one each, but being apart... let's just say that after being isolated from each other as a punishment, being separated for too long made Keony itch until they had seeked out for Lori, the only familiar presence nearby.

“I don't know,” Lori confesses hushedly, in part ashamed but mostly afraid and trying not to show it. To not know things is dangerous when you can do the things they can do. Not knowing, when you were created to possess the combined intellect of a genius and a norse deity, makes them feel something not quite embarrassment but akin enough that it burns. “I don’t care about the rest not liking us, or trusting us, but I don't know if I could take it if… if he never trusts us, or our powers.”

He.

Tony.

They could see it on his face, how closely they were watched, always firmly kept within his sightline. And no matter how well he hid his wariness, the quiet horror of who they were, the kids could read it plain as day. A face that Keony became intimately familiar with thanks to mirrors. It was, after all, an imperfect copy of their main Template– Tony himself.

“We should’ve gone to our Asgardian donor, space would be cool.” Funny thing, how the night made Keony more sociable, chatting Lori’s ear off in a way that was rare during the day.

Maybe Asgard would have been more accepting of their abilities, but for all Lori’s magical prowess, they had yet to truly grasp dimensional travel. Something to correct, some day, in the future.

“You know what they say, he got locked up for trying to take over the Earth." Lori pointed out, shifting closer to Keony in hopes that the giant expanse of the bed would feel less like it was trying to swallow her whole.

Keony pouted.

“If we could break out, why can’t he?” But the point wasn’t worth arguing about. Even if they could go to Asgard, they both had decided it was safer to be seen as the children of Tony Stark, right now, than to be seen as any more of a threat than they already were if they tried to chase after Loki. Someone who was just as reviled, and as caged now, as they had been.

No, all they could do now was be more careful.

Lori let out a tired laugh, more of a deranged sound than anything actually mirthful, that was eventually swallowed by the darkness, as everything was prone to. “We’ll be okay, we can learn how to be more... normal.” Until they trust us, went unspoken. Until he trusts us and stops treating us like a bomb ready to detonate.

“I'm so tired, Lo, I just want to be safe.”

Keony was always honest about their feelings, at least more so than Lori. It always made Lori fumble for a response, analyzing emotions always came easier to them than expressing them.

“I hope we can find that here.”

Hope was a dangerous thing to have, and yet it still crawled its way inside of their chest, waiting to grow either flowers or decaying rot inside of their bodies— regardless, it would make itself at home there.

[beamergirll11]

Don’t Do This To Me

Summary: Your future no longer includes Justin.

Warnings: Angst, Mention of sex

Word Count: 706

Characters: Justin Foley

You knocked on Clay and Justin’s door before walking in. Clay was in the middle of scolding Zach and Justin for throwing grapes on his bed like a toddler. Once Justin saw you his face beamed, He stood walking up to you his hands immediately grabbing yours.

“Hey Y/N you weren’t answering my texts.” He said his smile remaining.

“Guys can you give us a few minutes?” As you said it, Justin rose a eyebrow as his head tilted.

“Oh yeah…sure.” Said Clay.

“Yeah give us a few minutes.” Said Justin exchanging glances with everyone. Zach lifted himself off the floor and gave you a nod as he left. Clay slowly walked out as if there were land mines on the floor, He gave Justin one last glance before he left.

“We need to talk.” You said as you took a seat next to him on his bed, Justin threw his legs over the side.

“Babe is everything okay?” He asked his eyebrows drawn together as he looked over you carefully.

“Justin…”

The concern he had changed to dread, You took a deep breath. “I can’t be with you anymore.”

He swallowed hard as the color drained from his face. “W-Why?”

You and Justin had been dating for over two months. You both finally had sex for the first time. “Wait…” He said as he lowered his head his neck disappeared. “Was….Was I not good?”

“J-Justin…?” she said her mouth agape and her gaze flat. “This has nothing to do with sex.”

“Than…what the fuck is it?” He asked his chin beginning to tremble.

“You know why.” You said sternly. You waited for him to speak but he didn’t. “Please don’t lie to me Justin.”

He was silent, You watched as his shoulders dropped his arms losing all strength. “I…I relapsed…okay…I am trying to-“

Before he could finish you interrupted him. “Justin you have been trying for a long time…I don’t want to wait anymore.” As you said this you’re voice broke.

“I know… okay I know! Y/N I know I’m a lot sometimes I know I’ve let you down-“

Once again you interrupted him. “Justin I have been accepted by another college.”

His eyes widened. “But you got accepted to Wentworth because it was close to me.”

“Justin I applied to different colleges.” You said feeling guilt overtake you.

“I can’t…I can’t accept…this I won’t accept it. ! This is bullshit! You know how much I love you!” As his voice was and his eyes began to fill with tears, you stood him following.

“You have no choice!” You shouted, This seemed to startle him.

“Just a night ago…just a night ago you were telling me you loved me! You were telling me to go deeper, harder! Now suddenly that means nothing to you?”

“You keep ignoring the “You” doing drugs part.”

“I’ve…I’ve never loved anyone more than you.”

“What about Jess?” You asked your extremities shaking.

“Yes! Yes more than I ever ever loved Jess! Please don’t fucking do this to me!” He begged as he reached out to you.

“I’m not Jessica!” You yelled out.

“What the fuck are you getting at?!” He yelled back tears finally dripping down his cheeks and down to his chin.

“I’m not coming back.”

“What are you even saying?” He asked confusion consuming his face.

“I’m moving…”

“What the fuck…Y/N there has to be more to this.” He sobbed. “If it’s Jess I don’t even talk to her much I’ll ignore her completely!”

“Justin I’ve always supported you getting clean but you relapsed and didn’t tell me even though it was so obvious.”

“…I was scared…okay.”

“I’m not enough for you.”

“What?! You’re everything to me!” He cried out as he shook uncontrollably.

“If I was you wouldn’t shoot up heroin!” You yelled back. Tears trickled down his pained expression with eyes that clouded.

“Y/N please I love you please don’t leave me. I promise I’ll get it right this time.” He sobbed wiping away tears. “Don’t do this to me!”

“…Goodbye Justin…” you said avoiding eye contact. You turned heel as you made your way to the door you could hear him whimpering and sobbing. He didn’t see it but now you’re face was soaked in tears.