#gonna be another fay

[justaz]

need post magic reveal/ban repeal where magic is free and everyone grows in their knowledge of just what magic is and how it works etc, etc. merlin (isn't one for bragging about his powers) doesn't really mention much about his magic so people just assume he has enough to get by with like chores but not enough to catch the ire of uther EXCEPT for gauis, lancelot, and arthur bc gaius and lancelot have known about him for years and know what he's capable of and arthur sat merlin down and demanded all the stories so arthur knows he'd be a formidable opponent but he doesn't really get it yk? so he's like "yeah merlin has magic and he's capable of defending himself and camelot so he's probably on the more powerful end of the spectrum like every other sorcerer who is powerful"

and then i need merlin to be Different. like noticeably different. like idk a sorcerer is like trying out to be court sorcerer (bc merlin doesn't want another job dammit arthur give it morgana or someone-) and they perform this elaborate spell that captivates merlin and he starts asking all these questions and the sorcerer is like "yeah it's super difficult, it took me months to get it right and it takes years for some others-" and they cut themselves off bc merlin was just like "i wanna try" and does it perfectly first try. the sorcerer is seething.

camelot is hit with a heatwave and everyone is suffering and arthur is just like "morgana can you make it rain or something? it's too hot to breathe." and morgana is just like "no you idiot i can't just bend nature to my will. it doesn't like that." and merlin finally arrives with waterskins full of nice, cold, refreshing drink that the knights are frothing at the mouth to get. arthur complains again and morgana huffs and merlin is like "has he been like that this whole time?" and morgana nods with a groan and merlin laughs before going "i can try something" and leaves before anyone can say anything and arthur looks at morgana and is like "i thought you said nature doesn't like to be controlled?" and she's like "it doesn't" and then they all chase after merlin but he's chilling in the courtyard with his eyes closed, not even chanting, and then the sky starts to darken as black clouds roll in, the temperature plummets and then...snow begins to fall. in july. they all end up having a snowball fight.

a power hungry sorcerer comes along and is like "emrys....he's perfect....just what i need...teehee" and casts some spell over merlin and begins to siphon his magic and his power and merlin feels waves of his magic flood through the connection and into the sorcerer and like he's a mix of panic and concern bc yeah this mf is taking his magic but they're taking his magic. merlin tries to bargain or talk them down while the knights and arthur try to attack but the sorcerer keeps pushing them back and ignores merlin and is like "i want power, i want your power" blah blah blah monologue time and they swing another wave of magic out at the knights and knock many out while killing some and merlin is just like "ok no that's all folks thanks" and starts to push his own magic through the connection. the sorcerer has this wild gleam in their eyes and they feel more and more power fill them and it's like a high until it gets too much and they frantically try to sever the connection and their telling merlin to stop but merlin is just like "i thought you wanted my power? i'm giving it to you" and continues to flood the sorcerer with his magic until gold begins to trace their skin and they idk explode or smth and then all the magic flies back into merlin and he flexes his hands. unnamed knights 3, 6, 22, 53, and 55 still died so it's a tragedy.

a bunch of sorcerers are entertaining at a feast (kind of like the trickler) and they cast illusions all around the room that look real enough (unless you look too closely or touch it bc they are somewhat see through and your hand would pass right through them) and it's a fun and joyous night. later that week, the knights bring it up during their break while training and merlin is like "sure, what illusion should i cast?" and after some back and forth, he settles on the illusion of a dragon. it's around the size and age of aithusa bc that's all he has to go off of and it's gold since he took inspiration from the pendragon crest all around the area. it jumps around and flaps it's wings to get some air and it's all fine and dandy until elyan goes to poke his hand through it's ribs but meets physical scales and he jumps up into percival's arms. merlin looks closer and is like "oh. its real. whoops." and leon is like "whoops?? you make a real life dragon and all you have to say is whoops?" and merlin shrugs and is like "it was an accident" and leon about keels over from a heart attack "an accident? how do you accidentally-" the dragon is considered a gift from magic to camelot and helps further heal the wounds of uther's purge.

idk just like merlin being casually the most powerful sorcerer to walk the earth and unnerving people just by how little he seems to care about his shows of power but they're all like "well he's just doing all these small things that don't harm anyone and he doesn't even seem to realize just how powerful he is so what can ya do?" and they leave it be and make peace with merlin being Like That. and then camelot/arthur is attacked or smth idk and then everyone gets to see exactly how powerful and dangerous merlin is

[bumblingbabooshka]

[TUVOKTOBER: Day 12] Casual telepathic conversation. There are some things you can't discuss with non-Vulcans.

No text!

The lady Tuvok's talking to is a canon, unnamed background character:

She's ex-Maquis and appears in like two scenes where she doesn't speak.

[burningivy]

and she would’ve gotten away with it, too, if it weren’t for that meddling Damosel of the Lake!

[howcanibesadyetalsoacowboy]

I have a pain playthrough and a therapy playthrough of dark souls

[tsubasaclones]

shoves this comic in your hands and then runs away like a tsundere

[miirohs]

world burning [c.l.c]

pairing: Mob Boss!Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader wc: 1.4k cw: someone is literally shot, charles kisses reader a bit forcefully an: to the anon who said they'd sell me their soul my cashapp is @bestfanficwriterever (jk jk, i hope that anon sees this tho). Real reminder to you all, again, that non of this stuff is to be encouraged irl and this is all meant as a fictional scenario!

“Charlie?”

You could hear him softly cursing in French on the other line, whispering as the bed creaked in the background. It was obvious he had just woken up, and you felt terrible for waking him as well, knowing the day he probably had.

“Qu'est-ce qu'il y a, tu ferais mieux d'avoir une bonne raison de me réveiller (what's the matter, you'd better have a good reason for waking me up)-”

“Charles, I've been arrested, I need someone to come get me.” 

The muttering stopped, grogginess disappearing from his voice almost instantly. “Y/n? Qu'est-ce qui s'est passé bon sang chéri (y/n? what the hell happened darling)?”

“Charles, not now please,” You chastised softly, looking to the door as the guards quietly conversed among themselves outside the room, “I have no idea why this is happening and what they’re gonna do to me.” “How did you even manage to get arrested… Nevermind that, I just hope you haven’t answered anything they've asked of you.” He groaned, heavy thumping over the phone as you looked nervously at the door for any indication they’d been listening to your conversation.

“I’m not that dull,” You said quietly, looking down at your lap, “and it couldn't have been anything i did, all they did was seize the car from me in the lot and bring me here.”

He paused for a moment, silent over the line. You pressed the phone against your ear, straining for any sounds on the other side of the line.

“Stay put. I’m coming to get you.”

A shiver ran down your spine and you fumbled, tripping over your words in a hurry to get them out.

“Char, what are you planning on doing?”

He laughed humorlessly over the phone, the sound of keys jingling and door slamming making you jump back from the phone as if it’d grown a head.

“Exactly what I said I'm going to do, come and pick you up.”

You swallowed the thick ball that’d formed in your throat.

“You know what- never mind, send someone else in your place, maybe Carlos?” You bargained, earning a soft chuckle from him.

“Pas de souci, mon amour. Je ne fais que commencer (no worries, my love. I'm just getting started). They should’ve learned not to fuck with the wrong person. I’ll be there in another 20 minutes, you won’t need to call anyone else.”

You shivered as the line went dead, looking at the now opened door, all the cops watching you with a suspicious look.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

All you could do was shake your head.

Not even a grand total of 15 minutes later, a shouting match erupted, followed by loud bangs.

There was a single person you could think of who was capable of this level of chaos, and you could have swore you’d heard him threatening the cops right now.

“Where is she?”

“Sir-”

“Don’t sir me, where the hell is she? Don’t tell me I have to blow another head off just for you to tell me.”

Everything seemed to fall silent for a couple moments, only a few voices daring to make a sound.

“Char?” You called out, a couple beats of silence weighing you down.

The sound of footsteps only got louder, stopping in front of the room you were in.

Keys jangled, the door slamming open as Charles walked in, a couple of police tailing him timidly to the outside of the door.

There were dark stains on his otherwise clean shirt, an indication of what happened visible in the peeved look on his face. Your eyes slowly trailed to his hand, a gun held tightly in his grip, smoking oh so slightly.

Noticing how your attention had drifted to the weapon, he put it down on the other side of the table as he approached you, shrugging off his jacket as he approached you.

“Tu vas bien maintenant (you're all right now),” He said quietly, running his fingers through your hair as he pulled you to him, “Come on, we’re going home.” 

You clutched his arm as he stood you up, eyes glued to the floor as you walked next to him.

You could hear their disappointed exhales, tinged with a bit of surprise as Charles kept a firm grip on your back, guiding you through the long hall to the main office.

As you continued to walk, he gently stopped you, turning around in the middle of the room as someone called for him.

“Fucks sake,” He sighed, turning around.

“Sir, i believe there has been a mistake-”

“What sort of mistake do you think you’ve made?” He snarled, his hand running down to your hand, lacing his fingers into yours.

“You see, the car we identified was yours and we thought that perhaps she’d stole it-”

“And you didn’t think to call me so I could deal with them myself?” He chuckled humorlessly, pulling you to his side. You held your breath, completely aware of what was about to happen.

“Charles, no-”

He shook his head at you, basically telling you to not interfere. You obliged, eyebrows creasing as you watch the poor man who had tried to explain himself get shoved to his knees.

“First off, you interrupt my very precious time, and then you have the audacity to say that you’ve made a mistake?” He stands back, waving at someone behind him to step forward to his side with a gun. “Do you know who she is?”

The man stumbled over his words, trying to plead for his life, but you already knew it was too late.

“Since you don’t seem to know, let me tell you. She’s the last face you’ll be seeing but since she’s here, I've decided to spare the rest of you for the time being. If I ever hear of anything happening to her again, anyone in this room will not be spared like they were today.” He remarked bemusedly, turning to you with the widest grin you’d ever seen from him.

“Chéri, close your eyes, and cover your ears as well.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. The second you did, there was a bang, followed by a thumping sound.

Something warm was on your face, but you didn’t dare open your eyes, shaky hands coming off your ears to touch your face.

“Don’t.” He was closer than you thought, causing you to jump as he rubbed what you assumed was a handkerchief against your face . “Don’t say anything, don’t look, just follow me.” 

You cracked open an eye, briefly wandering to the pool of blood a couple of feet away from you.

“What did I just tell you?” He remarked, barking at the rest in rapid french as he grabbed your hand and pulled you out the doors of the station.

There was an awkward silence as you lumbered into the passenger side seat, pressing yourself against the seat as he pulled out and onto the road.

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?” He muttered, hand reaching over to squeeze your thigh.

“I thought you’d be upset with me.” You looked down, noticing the dried blood on his hands, not that it made much of a difference to you anymore. Less than two years ago, you would have been horrified at the idea of blood within six feet of you, but you had come to accept it as a part of him you could never erase.

“No-” He punched the brakes, eyes slightly apologetic as you jumped from the sudden shock of stopping.

“No, no, Y/n, look at me,” His hand left your thigh, fingers curling around your chin and pulling your face to his, “You are not responsible for any of that, i gave you the car, remember? You are not to blame yourself because I would gladly do anything for you.”

“Char-” You whined, muffled slightly by the pressure of his fingers against your cheeks.

“I would give you the world to see you happy, so shut up and take it.” He pressed his lips harshly against yours, almost needy in the way he nipped at your bottom. Warmth seemed to stir inside you as he let you go, your own mind racing at a million miles per hour as he returned to the wheel as if nothing had happened.

However, under his breath, he muttered something that even escaped you as your thoughts drifted off elsewhere. “Le monde brûlera, si tu le veux ma chérie, je te le promets (the world will burn, if you want it to my darling, I promise).”

[virginsexgod69]

❝ Proud of You ❞

Pairing Professor! Rick Grimes x F! Student! Reader

summary Rick comforts you after finding out your biggest fear is disappointing him.

cw teacher - student relationship, power imbalance, age gap, crying, making out, riding, unprotected p in v, emotional hurt/comfort, pet names, 3rd person pov

1.1k words

series masterlist

 She nervously chewed on the cap of her pen. She knew she was fucked the moment she walked into Professor Grimes' classroom. She regretted every minute she spent doing anything but study for this damn test. Failing the test, however, was the least of her worries- it was disappointing her professor that she was the most worried about. She blinked back tears as she tried her best to answer questions about unstudied materials. 

 Once the other students had filed out the classroom and she was the only one left, she grabbed her sorry excuse of a test and approached his desk. Her tear filled eyes and quivering lips didn't go unnoticed by him. 

"What's the matter?" he asked after collecting her test and putting it in a neat stack with the others. 

"I fai-" her words got caught in the lump clogging her throat. She fiddled with the hem of her skirt as she attempted to blink back her tears. 

"I failed!" she was finally able to say. But that admission broke the dam and sent hot, salty tears streaming down her face. 

"Hey, hey, don't cry, sweetheart," he soothed as he grabbed her hand and guided her to sit on his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder. He stroked her back and hushed her as her tears saturated his crisp, white button up shirt. 

"You're a good girl with good grades. This won' mess up your grade too bad," he reassured. She sat up and he wiped her tears away with his thumb as she sniffled.

"Th-that's not what I'm worried about," she confessed. 

"Well, then, wha's the problem?" 

Her chin and lips started quivering again as new tears formed. "Y-you're gonna b-be," she took a stuttering breath, "disappointedinme!" She buried her face in his shoulder again as she sobbed even harder this time. He soothed her until her sobbing dwindled down into little whimpers. 

"I ain' disappointed in ya. Everyone messes up," he reassured. She sat up and looked at him, mascara tears streaked down her pretty face. It broke his heart to see his star pupil in such a state. 

"N-not me! I never m-mess up!" Fresh tears filled her eyes again, but before she could bury her face in his shoulder again, he cupped her cheek in his hand and swiped her tears away with his thumb. 

"Sweetheart, look at me," he commanded. She couldn't look him in the eyes, not after this. It's one thing to absolutely bomb a test, but another to embarrass herself by being a sorry mess like this was something she doubted she'd ever come back from. 

"Didn't I jus' tell you to do something?" he said more sternly this time. Her eyes snapped up to his, fearing disappointing him even more. Even though it was hard to hold eye contact, she didn't let hers waver and neither did he. She didn't see anything resembling disappointment in his eyes. In fact, he was looking at her so softly. 

"You're r-really not disappointed in m-me?" she muttered. 

"Didn't I jus' tell you that?" he teased, earning a small smile from the pretty girl in his lap for the first time all day. She wrapped her arms around him, but this time instead of crying, she pulled him in for a kiss. He reciprocated with fervor, slipping his tongue between her soft, glossy lips. Without breaking the kiss, she readjusted herself to straddle his hips, sitting right on top of his bulge. His hands slid up her thighs, creeping beneath her short skirt, and cupped her ass in his hands. She giggled against his mouth, a sound he was elated to hear after all her sobbing. 

"I'm gonna make you proud, Professor Grimes," she whispered against his lips. 

"Oh? How's that?" he asked. She already made him proud, but playing into her games wouldn't hurt. She ground down on his hardening cock, earning a breathy moan from him. 

"The door's not locked," he warned. 

"Then I'll make this quick." She undid his belt and unzipped his pants with quickness. Once his hard cock was no longer restricted by its confines, she stroked it a few times causing precum to bubble at the tip. Moving her panties aside, she lined him up with her entrance before sinking down. Rick Grimes was well endowed, so the stretch stung each time. 

"Y'alright, sweetheart?" he asked. Her only response was pressing kisses to his jaw and neck as she undid his tie. His hands reluctantly stopped kneading her ass and instead helped pull her shirt over her head once she was done unbuttoning his. Her hands grasped his shoulders once she was ready to move again, and used them for support as she lifted herself off him, until only the tip was inside then dropped herself back down. His big dick filled her so good that the outline of it could be seen through her stomach. Rick's head lolled back as he moaned in pleasure, his grip on her hips almost bruising her soft skin. She squeezed him with her velvety walls, feeling ridge his veins provided.

"Feel so good, baby," he groaned as his student bounced on his cock. His hands traversed up her body, until they reached her bra. He unclasped the pesky thing and tossed it aside, releasing her breasts so he could watch the fleshy mounds bounce as she rode him. He took her nipples- hardened by the air conditioning blasting in the room- and pinched them between his index fingers and thumbs.

"Oh my god, Professor Grimes," she moaned out. Her calling him Professor Grimes during sex always did something to him. His cock twitched inside of her, his release not far.

"I'm 'bout to cum," she warned. He could tell by the way her rhythm became sloppy and the way she squeezed him.

"I know, baby, me too," he said before taking a breast into his mouth, nipping at and sucking on the nipple. His hand slid beneath her skirt and began rubbing the bundle of nerves through her panties. She screamed his name as she came, seeing stars as she did. Rick came too, his hot loads of cum filling up her sweet cunt as he threw his head back in ecstasy, guttural moans erupting from him. He continued to rub her clit until she came down from her orgasmic high. When she did, she slumped over onto his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, pressing a kiss to her slightly sweaty hairline. 

"Did I make you proud?" she asked. 

She felt his chest vibrate as he chuckled. 

"Always been proud of you, darlin'." 

would i even be who i am if i proofread this?

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[stories-and-chaos]

Shrike: The House Always…Loses? Pt 1

[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” Ace x ace relationship, both parties are moderately sex favorable. This was supposed to be a one shot about how Husk sold his soul, but I couldn’t help myself.]

[Part 1/2 Word count 3142 CW: alcohol consumption, gambling, mentions of sex.]

——————

The house always…loses?!

The 1970’s. You could tell there was some crazy shit going on in the world of the living. Mostly because the new arrivals in Hell had some particularly messed up forms. Tom Trench, 666 News’ anchor, had ended every broadcast for the past three years in an orgy after reporting on the war on Earth as well as the local conflicts.

“Complete lack of class,” Alastor shook his head as the two of you passed a large television screen in one of Pentagram City’s plazas. It was tuned to Tom’s nightly sign off; the camera off kilter and focused on the desk at a bizarre angle. Evidently the camera operator was part of the group on top of the desk. You could hear Tom saying, “oh fuck yeah I’m gonna invade all your landmasses baby,” followed by “here comes the firebombiiiiiiiiingggguh.”

“Zut alors, he’s turned into such a disgrace.” You scowled. “He might as well just work for that uncouth moth bastard at this point.” As you described Valentino, your voice gained a rough edge and wind started to swirl around you.

Your husband gave your hand a soothing squeeze. “Now now dear, you’ll muss your hair before I even get you on the dance floor if you keep it up. Besides cher, we’ll likely encounter him and the fad chaser at this party. If we all give into our emotions we’re likely to level the whole place.”

You breathed deeply. “And I’d hate to demolish a new establishment before even giving it a chance. Zestial requested a few songs as well, I can’t ruin my voice before granting him that.”

The two of you were attending a gala of Overlords and favored subordinates. One of the newest Overlords was providing the venue at his casino. These sort of get togethers were uncommon as more than one of the Pride Ring’s leaders in the same place often resulted in considerable property damage. So this newcomer was either extremely confident or foolhardy. Typical of a gambler.

At the entrance, you and your husband gave each other a final check; you straightened his bowtie, he smoothed back an errant lock of hair for you. Inside the casino was bustling with activity. It was set up into quadrants, each designated by a card suit. One section had slot machines designed to drain money from the poor saps who fell prey to their lights and false hopes. Deeper in were tables for more sophisticated ways to lose money. An elegant bar and well stocked buffet with dining tables nearby took up another section. The last quadrant had a stage for performers, lounge chairs for audience members and a dance floor. There was currently a band playing something forgettable on stage.

There was activity mostly at the gaming tables and bar. Not many Overlords were interested in the machines, the stakes weren’t high enough to care. And while the band was good, there wasn’t a headliner on stage at the moment. Food, alcohol, and barbed conversation was a bigger draw.

“Alastor, Y/N. Good to see you both.” The voice was sultry and professional all around once. “Ah, Carmilla, always a pleasure seeing you dear. You and your daughters,” you husband replied to the graceful Overlord.

“It’s been too long, Carmilla. Odette, Clara, you both look lovely cheres.” You glanced around the opulent venue. “So was this little fais do do your idea Carmilla?”

The tall woman shrugged elegantly. “In part. The owner of this establishment wanted to garner some attention and I owed him a small favor. I merely arranged the guest list. He took care of the rest.” She gestured to one of the card tables. “He’s entertaining guests with games of chance if you’d like to meet him.”

Alastor looked to you, “Well my dear, shall we meet our newest contemporary or mingle first?”

You spotted a tall figure draped in tacky fuschia leering in your direction from the bar, along with a shorter boxy headed demon boring holes into Alastor’s back. “Looks as if there are some unsavories around the liquor. I’m always interested in making new acquaintances.”

Arm in arm, you and your husband headed to the tables, Carmilla and her girls with you. You looked at them questioningly. “Ostensibly, as the hostess, I should introduce guests to each other.”

A demon about your height was dominating at the blackjack table. He had feline features in addition to a set of wings. Whereas your wings mimicked a natural bird’s coloration, his were more fantastical, vibrantly red and black with bars and dots all over. His hair was elegantly slicked back and his crisp tuxedo completed the air of a high roller.

He spotted Carmilla and after he won the current hand excused himself from the table, saying “duty calls friends.” He tucked his cane under his arm; the body was gold and topped with a sphere containing suit symbols, dice, and chips rotating like an orrery within.

“Husk, I’d like you to meet some of our colleagues.” Carmilla began as he approached. “This is Alastor, the Radio Demon, and his wife Y/N, the Singing Shrike. Alastor, Y/N, this is Husk, proprietor of this establishment and our newest sovereign Overlord.”

Alastor released your hand to shake Husk’s. “A pleasure to meet you my good man, truly a pleasure.” You followed up with your own pleasantries adding, “A lovely venue you have here. If the food and drink are up to the decor we may need to come around again, cher.”

“Pleased to meet you both,” his voice was rough but not unwelcoming. More like someone who had smoked excessively for years. “I don’t do things by halves, so I’m sure the refreshments are up to snuff. You’re both welcome to try the tables as well, if you can buy into the pot.” He stated a number that was high, but not exclusionary. No doubt he wanted to hook his patrons to get more value later. “We’re not betting souls tonight, that’s business and tonight’s for pleasure.” He gave you both a toothy smile before heading back to the cards.

You mingled both with Alastor and on your own. Waiters weaved through pockets of activity, serving drinks and hors d'oeuvres. There wasn’t really a crowd, which was smart considering how many Overlords could barely stand to be under the same roof, much less rubbing elbows.

It was somewhat inevitable though. A couple of hotheads, one you recognized and one you didn’t, started bickering, then yelling, then throwing punches. Any longer and they might have started bringing out some powers. Except they were stopped by a barrage of black playing cards. Off balance, they were crashed to the ground when a pair of giant dice rolled snake eyes onto them. Pinned, the two could only wait as Husk stalked over, the top of his cane glowing red.

“Didn’t your mamas ever teach you dumbasses any manners?” He slammed the butt of his cane down between their heads, sending a ripple of power out. “This is my house, my rules, so I’m going to teach you instead.” His gold pupils shined as he grinned down at them. “You wanna fight? You take it outside or I make you. You wanna settle things in here? We got plenty of ways to settle matters at the tables. Now what’s it gonna be bitches?” The two remained silent and continued to glare at each other. “Outside it is.”

The dice vanished but before the hapless combatants could do more than gasp a wave of poker chips carried them out the door with bone breaking force. Husk followed the wave calmly. From the other side, you could hear thuds, explosions, and screams. It only lasted a moment. Husk returned alone. One of the casino employees brought a new tuxedo jacket; there was dust and a bit of blood on the one he was wearing. He combed his hair back and returned to the game he’d been playing.

You sipped your whiskey, amused. Confidence it was then. “It seems our new friend can hold his own,” Alastor mused as he smoothly came up beside you. He held out a morsel of food for you, speared on a tiny skewer. “These are delightful, cher.” You pulled it off with your teeth. Shrimp in a spiced breading. “Mmm, that is lovely darling, thank you. And yes, he seems quite capable…for now.”

Anything else you would have said was derailed by a tall dark form appearing next to you and your husband. “If the two of thee have formed such an opinion of yon grimalkin, his potential is indeed of note.”

“My lord Zestial!” A light shiver sent your feathers rustling but that was expected around a demon as old and powerful as Zestial. Even Alastor tensed, a bit of strain around his lips and eyes. You curtsied as Alastor gave a slight bow. “You are as perceptive as ever. He has a great deal of power and potential. If his luck continues…”

Zestial chuckled. “Thou speaketh truth Shrike. One must make thine own luck. But ‘tis far too pleasant an occasion for such musings. Will thou grace the assemblage with thy voice tonight Shrike?”

“Of course cher!” As if you’d say no. Not to such a simple request from someone like Zestial. “I don’t suppose you have any requests? Or if there’s anything you’d like to hear darling?” you asked your husband.

Zestial shook his head. “Thy voice is a gift alone, I shall not presume to dictate its flow.”

“Hmm, I’m afraid I can’t help but dictate a little ma cher. Rosie requested a dance, so something she would enjoy?”

“I’d be glad to.” Alastor kissed your hand before seeing you off. You let Carmilla and Husk both know that you were ready to take the stage; you’d arranged everything ahead of time so the band was ready for you. Spotlights highlighted your mark as the lights dimmed slightly in the rest of the casino.

There was still a tremor of nervousness in your core as you took the stage. You were glad of it; if you didn’t feel nervous, you didn’t care about the performance or the audience. So you let it fuel the passion in your voice. You started with something that would grab attention, tap some toes. The big numbers would come later. For now you wanted them to listen to you more than the alcohol roaring in their skulls.

Once you had a gathering and you could feel the upbeat vibe in the room, you went into some dance numbers. The first one was for Alastor and Rosie. Seeing those two dancing together made your heart soar. Some might have expected you to be jealous, another woman dancing with your husband right in front of you. But how could you be jealous of your partner and your friend being so joyful together?

Not to mention that after your deaths, Alastor had gotten taller while you…embarrassingly you were the same height. He could still escort you comfortably but there were some dance moves that you couldn’t do together. Rosie was the perfect height, light on her feet, and a delight to watch in her own right. Why deny her and Alastor the pleasure? Or yourself the pleasure of watching.

You sang a mix of eras, which kept the band on their toes. But you loved music from different times and hearing what you could do with various songs. Alastor and Rosie danced for most of the songs, you could see Carmilla’s daughters find partners, and Zestial with his eyes closed, head bobbing to the music. Not even glimpses of Valentino and Vox could spoil the mood.

As people got tired, you slowed things down. There was more swaying on the dance floor now; there weren’t a lot of overt couples among Overlords (at least not established permanent ones) but there were many that shared intimacy for a time. Some had followers they were particularly close to and the rest of their followers often had a special someone. So there were plenty of pairs swaying to your voice.

Your last song of the night was Alastor’s song. It was your routine to finish with that one; carried over from when you were alive. Any demons that had seen you perform before knew it was your finale and worth paying attention to. The applause after the last note felt like champagne bubbling in your glass: delightful. You had a policy of not taking encores or requests after Alastor’s song, no matter how much anyone offered.

Alastor was there as you descended, hand ready for you. “As ever, you make me glad you married me, cher. Shall we get something to eat, I’m starved.” He knew you were likely to be as well, you tended to be ravenous after a performance.

To your surprise, there was clapping still near you; Husk, pulled away from the gaming tables. “I haven’t heard a performance like that in years. I’ve got a proposition for you, Y/N. Can I have some of your time after your meal?”

You and Alastor exchanged a glance. “Why not join us? As you said, it’s a night for pleasure, so presumably it’s not too serious,” you said as Alastor nestled your hand in his arm.

“If you’re both alright with that, don’t mind if I do.” You took a seat at an empty table while Alastor prepared a plate for you. You didn’t always let him, but you had put a lot into that performance, with so many people to impress. Fortunately, neither he nor Husk took long. Vox was starting to eye you from across the room. You would have hated to get wires and grease all over Husk’s new floor.

Alastor presented your plate as smoothly as any waiter, earning a throaty chuckle from you. There were more of those lovely shrimp, prime rib, salad, a baked potato and a slice of peach pie. You ate like a bird, which meant voraciously. You had to eat close to half your body weight in a day, much like the little bird you resembled. Fortunately you weren’t a pure carnivore and the peach pie was wonderfully nostalgic.

“Well, cher,” you said while stabbing a forkful of greens, “what’s this proposition?”

Husk swallowed, wiped his lips, and leveled a golden stare at you and Alastor. “I’d like to hire you of course,” he replied, expectedly. “I don’t have a headliner here yet and watching you made me realize how much this place needs one.” He sipped his wine. “So what do you say to a couple shows a week? I’ll give top billing to an Overlord, especially with pipes like yours.”

You smirked and raised your glass in admiration. Most assumed that Alastor was the only one with power in your relationship. Despite there being multiple female Overlords, once they found out you were married they acted as if you were little more than your husband’s hanger-on. While that granted you a number of opportunities (and demons chained to you with deals) you appreciated any that had a better grasp on your marital dynamic.

“What kind of compensation are we looking at? I don’t sing for free, cher.” Not even tonight had been free; Carmilla had paid your rate. There was one being in all existence that got to hear you for free.

Husk immediately named a figure. A gambler he might be, but he was a businessman too. He gave a number higher than your usual fee. Not high enough to make him seem desperate, but enough that he respected your talent and to entice from other engagements. “Obviously any tips are yours and you both will get perks of casino employees.” Evidently he noticed your shared enjoyment of the food and drink and wanted to sweeten the deal by including Alastor.

You pretended to mull it over while chewing your prime rib. “Quite the generous offer, ma petite chat. Why not, say three nights a week?” Husk readily agreed verbally. Neither of you moved to shake hands or sign papers; you could never be too careful with Overlords, especially when you were one.

The three of you chatted lightly as you ate. Alastor and you had experience with the old guard while Husk knew a lot of the young bucks. Neither side was about to give away more than the minimum information, but you got the impression he could be a decent ally.

Or pawn.

After the meal Husk asked you for a dance. You readily agreed, looking forward to seeing how he was on his feet. Not to mention a dance partner your size would be a nice change. He wasn’t as good as Alastor (who was?) but he was quite good. He seemed surprised by a couple maneuvers that incorporated your wings, evidently he hadn’t experimented much with his.

He actually got three songs with you before thanking you and heading back to the card tables. You were just feeling warmed up and went to retrieve your husband. Only to be intercepted by none other than Vox.

“Hey there sweetheart. How about you let me show you moves?” He gave you a grin and moved to take your hand in his.

You raked him up and down with your eyes. “Oh Vox, I’ve seen all your moves. They’re not impressive.” You pinched his wandering hand between two of your talons, making sure to draw pinpricks of blood before releasing him. “Allons’y cher, best you find a partner who can slow down for you.” Alastor had arrived at your side and added, “My darling wife makes an excellent point, although I’m not sure there’s anyone who can. Better luck next time ol’ pal!”

Without further ado he swept you onto the dance floor. He gleefully kept you dancing the majority of the night. You changed up partners a couple times, him with Rosie and you with Husk. At the end of the last song of the night, a slow dance, he lifted you into a bridal carry. Your wings cupped around his shoulders as he swayed with you.

Back at home, he and you exchanged notes on the evening while going through your nightly routines. “Cher, are you certain you don’t want me to deal with Vox?” he offered yet again.

“I can handle him darling. It seems I’ll need to be more direct however. More importantly, what do you think of my new employer?”

“Hmm.” His staticky hum filled the room as he climbed under the bedcovers. “An interesting fellow, we’ll need to see how he does. And you being there so often will give us plenty of opportunities,” he chuckled darkly.

You matched his laugh. As you settled next to his lean form you replied, “Agreed. This should be entertaining.”

A/N: part two may take a couple days, I’m finding pre-deal Husk’s voice hard to pin down. I hope you all like my head canon for his stronger abilities. Also, let me know if you’d like to be tagged for future Shrike snippets, she’s just fun to write. 💜🤍🩶🖤

@edgyboi10000 @clearly-awkward @badatpunz @deafsignifcantother @whitewolfsoldat @ch3sire-blu3 @bengewatch

[bananaactivity]

Sooo… Hook and Morgie huh.

Morgie and Hook look so different in this world… I love it. I actually ended up changing his hair to match Morgana from Troll Hunters 🫣. I wanted him to look more interesting cause people kept saying he was random and lame, Red heads with mullets aren’t lame I think 😃

( outing myself as a troll hunters fan in the year of 2024 💀)

Down below I put a little GIF of Morgies eyes doin the changing thing

(Why he kinda serving Edward Cullen tho like 😛)

Turns out Morgana Le Fay is REALLY powerful, so by extension Morgie should have the potential to be a pretty spooky sorcerer/ witch/ fay/ god. Based on Descendants canon, parents magical abilities is hereditary ie it’s VERY likely Morgie has all his moms powers in Arthur mythos. Which includes stuff like NECROMANCY AND OMNIPRESENCE, shapeshifting, immortality, time travel, illusion, flight, casting spells, healing, ASTRAL PROJECTION, telekinesis, mind control… other stuff across multiple media projects. I’m actually gonna keep a lot of this, minus omnipresence and time travel cse that’s way too powerful. As a caveat morgies still gonna be stupid and goofy asl… and he’s not the bossy type. He’s also tooo young to be super strong he can only do low level versions of his mom’s powers… like he can only turn into a Cat, snake, small dragon, crow, and big wolf for his transformation powers currently. I like to think anything he turns into is always black with his serpent eyes. Actually I don’t think that’s just true in my universe. Also because he’s stupid it makes since for Merlin to be okay with him at his school. Since Morgies mom has literally hated him for like centuries atp.

Speaking of this still adds another layer to the “ why is Uliana in charge when her crew consists of gods and supernatural entities that are much more powerful than she is” all she has is tentacles…. And even hook could turn her into Sannakjii if he wanted to fr bro… 3/5ths of her crew are literal gods or god adjacent 💀

I think this picture sums up My Hook and Morgie pretty good… I have more goofy pictures I wanna do of them.

Yes I did give Morgie fangs and black fingertips… necromancer??… shapeshifter??… can’t help myself??

Dont worry Hook is still flamboyant and crazy, he’s just a little sad at the beginning. He meets Morgie at school right after Peter Pan cut his hand off and banished him from Neverland because Hook got a scholarship to Merlin’s academy and he wants to be a pirate… so yeah he’s pretty sadge and struggling to function with his hook 😥 he won’t let that stop him from finishing his Swashbuckling masters degree tho 💅SLAY WE LOVE AN EDUCATED KING EVEN THO HIS SON CANT COUNT. Morgie is also a weapons smith major and he imbues his shit with like dark souls so that’s pretty cool.

I’ll have more on Morgie after I finish the goofy pictures…

[lowkeyrobin]

Can I get some Morgie x reader where he's trying to get them to join the VK'S? Like trying his absolute best, but gets a little bit nervous.

yesyesyesyes thank you!!! ; thanks for requesting, hope u enjoy!! ; also sorry this is so short, writers block has been killing me recently :(

MORGIE LE FAY ; join us

summary ; morgie desperately tries to get you to join his (ulianas) vk group

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; reader is allergic to peanuts for the bit

word count ; 637

masterlist

"Hi!"

"...Hi"

Morgie smiles, a little bad with social cues. Uliana shoots him a look from across the room. "Uhm, you're Y/n, right?"

"Yep"

"Uh, would you like to join my- our group? I, we, think you're really cool!"

"I work better solo" you reply. "Thanks though."

You quickly look back down at your paper, scribbling some nonsense onto the page to make him go away. He cracks his knuckle, out of nervous impulse, and quickly scurries back across the room to Uliana.

"So?"

"No"

"Jesus, Morgie."

"I tried!" Morgie defends

"Try harder next time. We need them with us if we're gonna pull this plan off."

"I thought you thought they were cool?"

"They're known to be a backstabber." Uliana rolls her eyes. "One and done job."

"Oh, okay..."

Morgie was not backing down to ask you about joining his group. It wasn't because of Uliana's pressure or Hook's inability for patience, or Maleficent's insistence, or Hades' obnoxious droning. It was because he honestly thought you were the coolest person alive.

He was set on getting you to join them.

He'd made peanut butter cookies for you, trying to now bribe you with food.

He approaches you at lunch, a plastic Tupperware in his hands.

"Hi, I made you cookies. Maybe you could rethink joining me?" He awkwardly chuckles.

You look up at him, slightly confused and annoyed. "What kind?"

"Oh, uh, peanut butter"

You chuckle. "I have one weakness. Peanuts"

His eyes quickly widen. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize, I didn't know-"

"It's fine." You giggle.

"Uhm, why are you sitting alone?"

"Told you. I work better alone"

"Oh, yeah"

Morgie, even after nearly poisoning you, was still not giving up. He didn't care about the weird, swirly feeling in his stomach or the ache in his heart when he thought of you. He wanted you. He needed you.

Over the course of the next week and a half, he'd been leaving little love letters in your locker. You liked them, feeling loved and appreciated, not having to be let down by reality. Anonymity was the great part about it. What wasn't so great was that you almost caught Morgie in the act after he'd left you another note.

Inside the safely sealed envelope rests a piece of paper, on it reading 'meet me outside by merlin's office at 3. hope to see you then ♡ -your secret admirer'

"Christ on a cracker..."

You couldn't make your mind up if you wanted to meet this person later or not. You didn't want to be let down by any internal, high expectations, but at the same time, curiosity nabbed at you desperately.

Once again, at your lunch table, you sit alone. Well, until that weird kid Morgie showed up again. He quickly sits down with you, ignoring your confused look.

"Hi" He awkwardly smiles.

"Hey," you reply nonchalantly, trying to hide the million thoughts wrapping around your brain.

"You busy this afternoon?" He asks.

"Uh, maybe" You shrug. "Why?"

"Just asking"

As the afternoon rolled around, you decided to just man up and go meet your secret admirer. Maybe you just had to think positive, maybe-

"Oh my God."

Morgie smiles and waves, standing under a large oak tree.

"Jesus Christ, are you the person who's been leaving notes in my locker?" You ask, standing a few feet away from him.

He shrugs and nods. "Yeah."

You blink twice, silent as you try to think.

"Look, I just really want you to join my group" He speaks, stepping forward. "You're really cool, and super smart and funny. Just please, please, please, think it over"

You sigh, knowing this boy won't take no for an answer. "Fine. I'll think about it"

"Yes! Thank you!"

"That's not a yes. Don't get your hopes up"

[justaz]

okay but have we considered morgana x freya?? two women who believed themselves to be monsters, hunted by the same man and his loyal followers, cursed, doomed to death the moment someone finds them out, alone. they wish for freedom, somewhere where they can be themselves, where they dont have to hide, where they can embrace their power and who they are without fear or without harming anyone.

[slytherinsrule89]

Hello! How are you?

Are your request still open?

If so may i please request Slytherin x reader where she speaks an other language?

(French maybe👀)

Could be like they are having a fight and she tell them off in her language

Or

She confess that she has a crush on them in a letter writting in her language cause she is too shy to admit it face to face

Thank you so much 🤭💋

Hello lovely! Thank you so much for the request I think it’s very cute ☺️

Tom

Let’s admit it, Tom is scary. So when you realized that you had a crush on him you shocked yourself.

You wanted to tell him but you also didn’t want to get hexed or something. Even if he wouldn’t hex you, you’d be way too shy to say something.

The most logical thing you could think of was to write him a note in your native language. French.

It was later at night when you sent it and you hadn’t really expected to get a reply. He’d probably think it was to the wrong person or something.

It wasn’t much later when you heard a knock on the door and assumed it was your roommate who forgot her key.

Your eyes went a bit wide when you saw Tom standing in front of you.

“Si tu voulais admettre une telle chose, il aurait mieux valu que tu me le dises en face, poupée.”

The comment made you blush but Merlin you should’ve realized he’d know French.

Blaise

You and Blaise were in a petty argument about something both of you probably forgot. It was getting to the point that you guys were bringing up the most random things that have happened.

As it went on your frustration grew and without even realizing it you switched to a different language.

“Blaise, c'est absolument ridicule! Nous ne savons même plus pourquoi nous nous battons!”

You were a language nerd and when you were learning a new language it would be so much in your head that you’d sometimes speak it without realizing.

Blaise’s voice was cut off immediately as he looked at you in shock.

“Ma I have no idea what you just said but whatever it is I agree and I’m gonna shut up.”

He took you by the waist and pulled you onto the bed snuggling you close as the argument was resolved.

Theo

Theo and you had been bickering all day to each other and both of your friends were getting tired of it.

They tricked you into being in the same room as each other then locked the door. Blaise claimed he’d seen it work a million times in muggle movies.

There had been a long line of pure silence before you guys started talking. Unfortunately springing up another argument but not as bad as the last.

Trying to explain something to him, Theo cut you off and started yelling in Italian.

Sure it was hot but you wouldn’t let him win the argument. “C'est toi qui parles Theo, tu fais exactement la même chose!”

Both of you stayed quiet for a moment, taking deep breaths as you calmed down.

“Wow bella, didn’t know you spoke French, gonna let me hear more?”

Your anger completely dissipated then as he pushed you to the wall kissing you deeply.

Mattheo

It wasn’t completely uncommon for you two to be fighting and most people knew that. But somehow you always bounced back.

This one was getting a bit out of control though. Mattheo had been getting into a lot more fights and drinking more and it was worrying you.

“Merlin y/n I can’t be perfect all the time!” He shouted.

“Je ne te demande pas d'être parfait Mattheo, personne ne l'est ! Mais je m'inquiète pour toi et je voulais juste m'assurer que tu allais bien ! Je ne peux pas risquer de te perdre de quelque manière que ce soit !” You spoke emotionally.

Mattheos face went blank as he looked at you. He wasted no time hugging you tightly not wanting to let go.

“I have no idea what you just said princess but I’m sorry, I don’t mean to upset you.”

You both calmed down after a bit and laid down in bed quickly falling asleep in each other's arms.

Enzo

You had had a crush on Enzo practically all your life. The only problem was that he never seemed to settle down and date someone for a long time which worried you.

The more you tried pushing down every thought you felt for him though the stronger they seemed to come back to you.

To fed up with it, you decided to just come clean with him. Well sort of.

You wrote him a love confession and sent it to him but it was written in French, a language you knew very well.

During potions Enzo was paired with you for the next project. As you both listened to the professor drown on about what you were supposed to do for it he slid you a note.

“Tu sais que je t'aime bien aussi. La jolie dame voudrait-elle se joindre à moi pour un rendez-vous dans un beau restaurant?” The note read.

You panicked a little as you saw the French but quickly lighted when you read it and agreed happily as he smiled.

Hope you enjoy :)

[hiraethblues]

Perfect 10 Liners Part 2 Thoughts (so far)

Okay so confession time, I know ALOT of you really enjoyed the ArcArm storyline and I was told that this could be the show to get me to be all in on ForceBook (I have specific thoughts about this CP, but that’s for another time) but I’m sorry to say that I could not get into their storyline AT ALL. I don’t know what it was but I just couldn’t force (😉) myself to sit through it so I did skip 99% of their storyline to get to the one I was excited about which is YothaGun, so here’s my thoughts after watching the first 3 eps of their story.

EPS 9-10: Already i'm enjoying PS and it's only been 2 eps. They’re serving me exactly what I’m hungry for. I’ve seen some complaints that Gun is on the childish side? But personally I think thats just how his character is, kinda innocent and naive to the world? I currently don't have a problem with it (the only thought I have is in regards to their gmmtv 2025 show cos he becomes like a 7yo again and I worry if he's gonna get typecast into always playing this type of slightly silly role? Although that's one of the shows I'm actually more excited for so we shall see in probs 2026?27? when it airs lol). Anyways, my main want is for them to give us more of his darkness trauma, I really liked the scene where he was afraid and crying in bed and Yotha came in and comforted him but that was before Yotha was properly interested in him so I would like to see a similar scene again where he comforts him but it's after acknowledging his feelings for him. LOVE the tie tying and that Yotha is determined to be close to Gun without letting Gun know how much he enjoys it. Also the PJ’s are a nice touch. Oh and how did I forget, but wtf Santa is like SUUUPER ripped? Mental.

EP 11: Still loving this couple (proved by the fact I couldn’t even wait a day to watch this after it dropped) but why did this ep feel a bit filler-y? or maybe that was just me? I love that they are showing a softer side of Yotha with Gun, and the whole sitting next to him in the cafe all night was SO sweet - also the fact that Fai said “I'm just the dog sitter, your owner is here now?!” 🫠 Do we think Yotha told asked Fai to go find Gun cos he knew the electric had gone out? Ugh. Now, don't hate me but sadly I don't really care about Fai and what'shisname? so skipped that and felt they had quite a few scenes in this ep. Also all the drama kinda started 20 seconds before the end, so that's a bit annoying (It'd be fine if they dropped 2 episodes a week but c'mon we got to wait a whole week now, boo!

TLDR; loving it so far, give me more angst pretty pls <3

[lady-october]

Pairing : Oli Sykes x Female Assistant Genre : Romance, Smut (18+ Only) Previous Chapters : Available on Ao3 & Tumblr

Story Content : Smut, Drama, Choking, Power dynamics, Romance, Rough sex, Sadism/Masochism, Dom/Sub, Mentions of addiction & self harm, Degradation, Praise kink, Exhibitionism, Orgasm denial, Breath play, Dirty talk.

Summary :

“Don’t you see what a dangerous game you’re playing? Why did you have to look so fucking delicious tonight, I couldn’t stop undressing you in my mind, thinking of all the twisted things I want to do to you.” She had only worked on the touring team for three weeks, but her mind had been hijacked by dirty thoughts of a man she barely even talked to. Sure, he was very attractive, but were there other reasons she was so uncontrollably drawn to him? This is a filthy story of pain, self discovery, and love.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Chapter 28: Oh, what a wonderful life

Chapter title is lyrics from “Wonderful Life” 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The first thing I noticed when I saw him was his hollow eyes. The exhaustion so present on his features that for a moment I struggled to remember all the things I needed to discuss with him. 

“Hi.” He breathed, leaning – resting – against the doorframe. The smile he aimed at me further showcasing how tired he must be. 

Come on, Alice, you can do this. 

Thankfully, I managed to centre myself before too long, “So, are you gonna meet up with her?” 

“I think so, yeah.”  

I shouldn’t be jealous, I shouldn’t feel insecure, but this is someone he’s explicitly expressed to be the love of his life; someone he considered a soulmate. 

Someone who was obviously still interested in him. 

And from reading their chat – specifically from seeing how Oli spoke to her – it was also obvious he still had some form of respect for her. Despite her deep betrayal. 

I’d been fighting the urge to look up his exes as soon as he’d vocalised being cheated on during the flight to America. But today those temptations had proven too much. 

That’s another problem with potentially dating a celebrity; their dating history is catalogued online, just a quick search away. All I had to do was type in ‘Oli Sykes girlfriend’ and I’d been flooded with images of her, showing how picture perfect she was, and how perfect they were together. Both so clearly from the same universe, dressed in alt fashion and covered in tattoos. 

Both also very clearly in love. 

And now I had the image of them wrapped up in each other’s arms, kissing, plastered in the back of my mind as an uncomfortable reminder of how out of place I am in his world. 

Oli took a quick glance down the corridor before returning his attention to me, “Can I come in?” 

Distracted by my intrusive thoughts, I simply nodded and stepped to the side. 

I’d expected him to walk into the room, maybe even make himself comfortable. Instead, he hovered next to me as I shut the door, not once taking his tired eyes off me. 

“I was gonna tell you last night that I’d been talking to her.” He said in a low tone, so close to me I could smell the energy drink on his breath. 

“Is that why you were unsure about us being right for each other?” I had to ask, had to know. It had been running through my thoughts for hours. 

Oli shook his head, “No.” He said, but his expression shifted, a grimace threatening to scrunch up his face, “I mean, yeah. But not the way you’re thinking.” 

As I felt a frown pulling on my eyebrows out of confusion, his hand appeared by mine, taking it gingerly in his – a silent question if this intimate touch was acceptable considering the current tension between us. 

Bewildered, I let our fingers intertwine, before he led us to sit on the end of my bed. 

After a deep breath, he told me why he needed to talk to Fay, that he wanted answers, that he needed to let go of the anger and the distrust she had caused in him – how it had made him not trust me.  

He also told me he’s been fighting the urge to use again, to fall into old habits with drugs, that things had been triggering him, just like things had been triggering me. And for a moment I thought to myself that maybe he was right last night, maybe we’re just not right for each other.  

Maybe we do nothing but pull at the strings of our pain, fraying the edges of the delicate fabric further. 

But then he began caressing my hand, holding it in his as if it was precious – as if it was made of glass. He turned it over in his palm, guiding it up to his lips in order to place a kiss on the soft pad of my thumb. Then he opened his mouth to say something that would make me see things from a different perspective. 

“I tried to strangle such a large part of myself the past year, I gave up on so many of the things I desperately want out of life because of how badly I got burnt with Fay; I gave up on love, something that – and I know this sounds cringe – but it’s as vital as air to me.” His vulnerable eyes fell to our hands resting on my thigh, before continuing under his breath, “It's like I've been a fucking zombie, Alice.” 

Silence fell between us for a beat as I tried to stay composed, hating how much I was relating to what he was saying. But then he continued, and I felt the familiar lump build in my throat. 

“Well,” He huffed out a breath, “Until you showed up." 

Large eyes returned to mine, and suddenly breathing no longer seemed to come instinctually, forcing me to focus on the otherwise autonomic function so I wouldn’t simply stop. 

“I was only able to start writing lyrics again after the first night I was with you.” He studied my face as he seemed to search for the right words, “I realise there's problems here, reasons for why we might not work out. But you have no idea how grateful I am for everything you've done for me.” 

Having never felt more alive than when I’m around him, I should see where he’s coming from, I should believe his words, yet I couldn’t help but think that he’s mistaken; that he was confusing me for someone who was special enough to evoke such things. 

“You've opened something up in me that's allowing me to love again, and honestly, even if we don't end up together, at least now I know that giving up on love altogether isn't the solution.” 

Panic set in as I was fighting to speak up, to let him know I also crave to feel. 

Crave to love. 

But the words were stuck in my throat, lodged so thoroughly I wasn’t sure I could say them even if my life was on the line. 

Does he sense my inner battle; can he see it on me? 

There is so much pity in his eyes. 

Or is it disappointment over the fact that I’m once again mute while he pours his heart out to me? 

But long before I got a chance to tackle my loud inner voices, the pity fell away from him, and you could tell by his darting eyes that he was mulling something over. 

“This is our last night here. I wanted to take you to the restaurant, would you like that?” He asked, an exhausted, sombre smile touching his lips. 

I forced out a smile and an eager nod, hoping it would convey at least a crumb of the thoughts I was currently unable to express verbally. 

“Great.” He added, so I stood up, but his hand didn’t let go of mine, nor did he move from his seated positioned at the end of the mattress, “Are we alright to just lay down for a minute first?” 

I shifted awkwardly, “Liam could come back any moment.” 

But I quickly realised his request hadn’t been sexual in nature from the way his sad gaze held mine. 

“I just want to hold you for a bit.” He begged under his breath, and my heart ached. 

“Okay.” I said in return, causing him to visibly relax, before he guided me around the modestly sized double bed, compared to his rooms large king.  

As I made myself comfortable on the plush pillows I’d cried into just an hour ago, he quickly wrapped himself around me, nestling his head into my chest, my chin coming to rest on the top of his head, right in the midst of wild locks that smelled so hypnotising.  

The embrace was unlike the ones we usually shared, he was making himself more vulnerable, turning the moment intimate in a brand new way, causing a storm of emotion to erupt in me. And right as I thought I couldn’t get more overwhelmed by it, his warm hand appeared on my thigh, pulling it over his waist, entangling us further before taking a deep breath, the warm air seeping through the fabric of my shirt, caressing my skin. 

“You always smell so wonderful, love.” He breathed into my chest in a low, rumbling tone, sounding as if he’s about to drift off. 

And your scent makes me wonder if home is a person. 

I swallowed, alarmed by my feelings and my thoughts, shoving them aside to stay sane, to stay in the moment without panicking. 

“That’s good,” I started, feeling unsure of myself, but curiosity got the better of me as it so often does, “You know, I’m having the hardest time placing your scent. What’s in your hair right now?” 

“Sorry about that. It’s just some shampoo I nicked from one of the venues back in the UK when I ran out of my usual stuff. Probably doesn’t smell that pleasant, but beggars can’t be choosers.” 

I couldn’t believe it, the mysterious aroma that had made me feel safe, that drove me wild, was just some random shampoo he didn’t even care for? 

“I– I actually really like it.” I said quietly, the heat of a blush spreading over my cheeks, feeling slightly embarrassed over having placed such significance on such a trivial thing. 

“Yeah? Maybe I’ll get some more then.” His words had come so slurred, the poor thing was clearly hanging onto consciousness by a thread. 

I was going to tell him – reluctantly – that he didn’t need to do that, that he can use whatever products he prefers, but before I got a chance, I felt him twitch, letting me know that sleep had claimed him. 

I sighed, torn between distraction, or allowing myself to indulge in his scent, in him. After a moment of looking at the unruly curls under my nose, I gave in, letting myself take a deep breath and savour the way he made me feel. Which was more than I cared to admit to myself. 

Having mostly focused on feeling as few things as possible for so long, it was no wonder such emotional highs that Oli provided caused fear to stir inside me. 

I was used to spending my days convincing myself that I was happy, that I didn’t want more. That I didn’t feel like I was slowly suffocating and dying inside from staying with someone who made me feel… absolutely nothing. 

You see, my ex was a void, and I simply orbited him, shaping my wants and needs to fit into his lifestyle in order to make things as simple and conflict-free as possible. 

One day we’d sat down in the living room to go through our finances. The TV had been left on in the background, auto playing some sewing tutorial on YouTube that I’d planned to watch at some point. But like all my attempts at creative hobbies, it fizzled and died before I’d even gathered the courage to purchase the supplies to try it. I was simply too good at telling myself that there was no point, that I’d probably be bad at it anyway, that it was a waste of money, or that my time could be spent doing something more productive. 

We were in the middle of deciding how much to transfer to our savings accounts this month, when my ex, Sam, had gotten distracted by the flashing lights caused by the next random video in the queue. 

“Annoying that. Do you like that stuff?” He asked, judgement in his voice, before reaching over to turn off the telly. 

I’d only caught a glimpse of it before he shut it off, but it had looked like concert footage, most likely recommended to me due to all the links Shelley had shared with me lately, to show me the upcoming bands she’d be working on tour with. I wouldn’t be able to recall what bands it had been, as I never much listened to heavier music, and the touring agency specialized in alternative music. All I knew is that it can’t have been Bring Me The Horizon, as this was years prior to her working with them. And years prior to her recommending me for this job. 

“Not really, but Shelley’s been sending me a lot of concert footage lately.” 

He shook his head, “You two have essentially nothing in common, I can’t understand why you’re still friends with her.” 

Shelley was my childhood friend. She was always the outgoing one, the daring one, while I mostly kept to myself. But for some reason she’d latched onto me the first day of school and told me we’d be best friends forever. And so far, she hadn’t been wrong about that. The only reason we hadn’t talked much lately was due to us both being on tour. 

He wasn’t wrong either though; we didn’t have much in common, but that never seemed to matter. We enjoyed each other all the same. 

But Sam and Shelley? They hated each other. Both insisting that the other was bad for me, or just bad in general. In fact, I’m not sure they’ve ever agreed on a single thing besides liking me. 

“You know why.” I muttered, keeping my head low, not wanting to have this argument again. 

“I just don’t get why she insists on pushing her tacky ways on you. You’ve got it all figured out; always the most beautiful girl in the room, got a great job, and a great boyfriend.” The last bit he’d said with a proud smile. 

I rolled my eyes at him, but he just laughed. 

I’m not sure Sam thought I was beautiful, or if he simply approved of my extremely non-offensive way of both acting and dressing, which he always commented on before showing me off to friends and colleges; I was the quiet, polite, smiling girlfriend, dressed to impress even the elderly relatives. Someone who was perfect to bring around to the office Christmas party.  

I also know he very much disapproved of Shelley’s work, always finding new ways of implying that she’s a slut, sleeping around with all the bands she worked with. 

Which, looking back, is hilarious, as I’m currently doing her old job, but sleeping with the lead singer. 

But I know Shelley wasn’t like that. She may come off as a flirt from first impressions, but she’s very happily married, and had always been extremely loyal. In many ways she reminded me of Liam, which explained why they got along so well. And why me and Liam instantly hit it off. 

But Sam’s dislike for Shelley ran a lot deeper than simply looking down on her lifestyle choices. 

The last time Shelley had visited she’d sold me on the idea of getting a tattoo with her. I’ve always liked them, but always been entirely too scared to consider one. Yet I had warmed up to the idea of a vine anklet – discrete, understated, yet pretty. It had felt right, but Sam had talked me out of it. Reaffirming my fears about its permanence, having me question if I would regret it. But he was still angry over the mere idea that Shelley had almost convinced me, as if my opinion on the matter hadn’t really mattered – as if I’m not capable of making an informed decision on my own. 

But considering how scared and indecisive I frequently was, I guess it was understandable why he would assume as much. 

After we were done with our finances, I’d caught myself in the mirror while getting towels for my evening bath. I was still in my work clothes, my hair neatly tucked into a low bun, not a hair out of place. I was the picture of palatable, pleasant and boring. 

It fed my numbness.  

I accepted it – it was comforting. 

Or so I told myself as I undressed, locking the door to the bathroom before getting into the hot, bubbly water, and having myself a silent cry like I did nearly every night before bed. 

I’d stare into my soothing lavender candle I’d lit to help me sleep better, working overtime to convince myself I was happy as the tears streamed down my face. As the walls felt like they were closing in on me. 

Then I’d dry myself off and crawl into bed to sleep next to my perfectly okay boyfriend, ready for my perfectly okay job in the morning. 

No wonder I’d agreed to Shelley’s suggestion of working on the touring team once I’d split with Sam. 

It was just crazy enough of an idea for me to act on in my desperate state, sick of hating my life so fundamentally. 

But I had my apprehensions. 

I’d found out fairly quickly that my first tour would be with a band called Bring Me The Horizon. 

Instantly I’d began researching them. 

The first time I saw Oli I’d pulled a face of disgust.  

He’d been flashing his old vampire fangs, bright coloured contacts, and his skin was more ink covered than not. I’d immediately heard Sam’s voice in the back of my head, telling me that ‘only convicts have face tattoos.’ 

And I’d agreed with him at the time. In fact, many of my close-minded opinions at the time were his. It was just easier to adopt them rather than argue. 

So, in an effort to be my own person, I rejected the notion that there was anything at all to judge about Oliver Sykes. 

But the judgemental thoughts hadn’t ended there. 

I’d read that he was a drug addict. Of course he was, he’s a rockstar. 

I shook myself, realising what I was doing, and moved on, once again promising myself to not judge a book by its cover. 

But I couldn’t seem to stop. 

I learned about his activism, his love for animals, how he’d started his own business alongside the band when he was just a teenager. I’d read over his lyrics and watch his interviews – all of which were riddled with self-criticizing commentary despite his numerous admirable achievements and skillsets. 

And yet I still found myself having judged him, as I’d been shocked to discover that he wasn’t just some lowlife, entitled, celebrity man-child as I’d initially expected. 

For days afterwards I’d kept looking him up, scrolling through pictures and videos of him, listened to his music, checking out his clothing line, perplexed both by him as a person, and why I was so seemingly enthralled by him. 

Do I find him attractive, or am I simply jealous of his bold ways of expressing himself? 

Immediately after that thought I’d texted Shelley. 

“Alice: Dress me like you.” 

It was something she’d wanted to do since we were teens, always insisting that my appearance never reflected how she saw me; telling me that my personality was far richer and exciting than how I presented myself to the world. 

While I felt more comfortable being silly around Shelley than anyone else, I still wasn’t sure I agreed with her opinion on that. 

But I did know she’d jump on the idea of giving me a makeover, and I was beyond fed up with my old ways. 

“Shelley: I’ll do you one better, I’ll dress you like YOU!” 

The next day she’d come over to my mum’s house which I was residing at after my breakup with Sam. She’d brought a mountain of clothes and accessories, both things from her own closet and items she’d picked up on the way here. The first thing she’d put me in was a dress so short it could have been a shirt. 

“You’re made for that.” She’d said without a doubt in her voice, “It’s perfect!” 

“You’re joking? A small breeze and I’ll be on a list.” 

“Who cares, you’re going on tour!” She exclaimed before collapsing into my childhood bed, which we’d spent many nights together in as kids, telling ghost stories under the covers when we were supposed to be fast asleep. 

“I’m not sure.” I muttered, pulling on the hem, attempting to magically make it cover more of my skin than it ever could. 

“Alice, I beg of you, bring it with you, just in case you feel up for wearing it once you’re there.” 

And taking inspiration from the boldness of Mr Sykes, as well as Shelley, I’d done as she’d suggested. In fact, I’d been brave and mostly packed things she’d brought over that day, only packing a handful of items from my usual wardrobe.  

And every time I see myself in the mirror after putting on something Shelley picked out for me, I’d hear Sam’s words in the back of my head, telling me I look like a slag, and I’d smile at my reflection. 

Cause who gives a rat’s arse what that man thinks anyway. 

But it quickly became evident that I cared about what another man thought of me. 

It also quickly became evident that my fascination with Oli wasn’t just jealousy over his daring nature. 

The first time I met him I swear my brain short circuited for a minute. 

“Hiya, love, you alright?” He’d asked with a flash of a smile. 

While I can’t recall what I said, if anything, I remember being in complete awe, convinced his eyes were looking right through me, as if he could tell immediately how my body was responding to his mere presence. 

It had taken me a couple of days to finally accept that I was in fact hopelessly attracted to him, and once I’d accepted that, I’d check him out every chance I got. And while I knew someone like me would never have a shot with someone like that, I kept dressing myself in less and less, hoping that against all odds he’d notice me eventually. 

Just a handful of days before we started the sexcapades in London was the only time I’d thought that maybe he’d actually noticed me in the same way I was noticing him. 

It was an early, gloomy January morning, and we were just about to leave a rented house we’d been staying at for a couple of days between gigs. Everyone was gathered in the living room, half asleep on the corner sofa, as we waited for the taxi to come collect us. Liam was still running around making sure we hadn’t left anything behind, and I was sat in a chair next to the sofa, mindlessly watching the morning news that Lee had left on the telly as everyone were either resting their eyes or on their various devices. 

In an incredibly modern, ugly, design choice, the whole wall behind the telly was comprised of large, black marble tiles, so glossy it acted as a mirrored surface. And every so often I’d let my eyes stray from the news to steal a quick, indulgent glance at Oli in the reflection. 

Only this time I noticed his eyes weren’t on the phone in his hands, nor were they on the big screen in front of him. In fact, it looked an awful lot like they were resting on me. And not on my reflection, no, his gaze was instead to his side, in my direction. 

And what is that expression on his face? 

For a moment I didn’t even dare think it, cause why on earth would he be looking at ordinary, boring Alice? But then I scanned my own reflection and was promptly reminded of how low cut my top was that day.  

In a daring move, I crossed my arms gently, which made my already provocative cleavage spill further. 

Immediately his eyelids grew heavy, his lips parting slightly as the grip on his phone tightened visibly, the veins on his hands becoming more prominent as a result, and I was suddenly very grateful that I was already sitting down, as I’m certain my legs weren’t functional in that moment. 

But while what he was looking at – and how he was enjoying what he saw – was undeniable, I still managed to talk myself out of him being interested in me. Instead, I’d just disregarded it as him not being immune to appreciating a pair of tits when they were presented to him. 

In hindsight, knowing more about Oli, and knowing that he’d been checking me out for a while, it was now clear that this had been a regular occurrence – he’d just managed to be quite stealthy about it. 

And yet… I can’t help but wonder what he could possibly see in me. 

The sun was close to setting as I stared out into the forest view of mine and Liam’s room, the sleeping man next to me breathing slowly and deeply against my chest. And even though he was continuously showing me how special I was to him, I still felt entirely too lacklustre to be loved by him. 

I was a common garden rock, in the arms of a rare gem, and no matter how much I want to open my heart to him, to accept that I was already attached or wanted more, my gut still told me he’d wake up one day, realise how wrong he’d been about me, and see me for the disappointment that I really am. 

... Subscribe to the story on Ao3 for future updates

[descendantsramblings]

Thank you baby, sorry for messing up that post the first time, I might be stupid, so your ask is a touch cut off on both sides

Anyway, back to the show

And I decided that this takes place in 1985 even though we don't have a set year so I could reference '84 movies. Do y'all even know what a VCR is? Is that gonna confuse y'all? I had blues clues on a bright orange VHS as a kid and I miss it every day.

Scales

Morgie le Fay x Reader

Pronouns used: they/them/theirs

Summary: Morgie could think of about 100 things he’d rather do that coparent a dragon with Merlin Academy’s sweetheart

Warnings: Morgie is a little OOC due to being in a bad mood (and hating dragons), Swearing, reader is implied to be shorter than Morgie (idk how tall Peder is and don't really care so sorry if I made y'all reallll short with that), this reads pretty platonic so sorry if that's not what you wanted, Reader calls Morgie "Daddio" but i assure you it's not how you think

Word Count: 3.5K

   There was no class that the sorcerer hated more than “Care of Magical Creatures”. The only magical creature he had any interest in was himself, he was a lovely magical creature, a shape shifter. He knows how to care for himself, what other magical creatures could he have to learn to care about? But this? This just made the class even worse. Of course, Merlin would clock him on how often he was skipping the day that Dragon Parenting week started. Maybe graduating wasn’t worth it, he could fail his senior year, he’d be okay with that. If it meant he didn’t have to pretend to care about a dreadfully scaled little creature, he could fail. He’ll graduate next year, that’s fine by him. Who cares what his dreadfully evil mother would say about him failing? He does, he cares about it. Guess Morgie is stuck here.

   Madam Harleen is wandering around her classroom, a bright pink clipboard in her hands as she does. “Now, one big part of this project is making sure that you have a randomly assigned partner. I took the liberty of using a RNG to make sure that each of you were fairly assigned to your co-parent for the week.” His eyes roll back into his head, of course she would. As long as he didn’t get Bridget Hearts or either of her exhausting little friends, Morgie could care less. The last thing he needed was to deal with Uliana complaining about him hanging around one of them while he was caught up with handling a creature so absolutely dreadful. Maybe they could find a cool one, if they went first they could. Morgie had peaked into the box of dragon hatchlings as he passed Madam Harleen’s desk, there were some pretty cool looking ones. As long as he didn’t get stuck with the scrawny little purple and orange hatchling he would be okay.

   “Mr. le Fay and Mx. (L/n),” Madam Harleen is obviously proud of the duo as she says it, looking between the two teens. Of course, who else would Morgie be paired with except for sunshine itself? (Y/n) (L/n) with their sweetheart personality and gentle hands and adoring smiles. The only royal in this entire school who was somehow nicer than Bridget. Today was on its way to ending him. Or at least his reputation, he may as well just go ahead and ask Hades to send him to the underworld. There was no way that Uliana would ever let him hear the end of this, if he could even get through it. Yet here they come, with that stupid bouncy walk and the gentle smile as they make their way to his side. Falling beside him with one of those big sugar sweet smiles. “So,” they reach out a hand for him to shake, “Are you so entirely excited for this project like I am? Because I love dragons, they’re the absolute cutest.” As they realize he isn’t going to shake their hand they draw it back, letting it fall weakly at their side. “Not really.” A frown meets their lips momentarily before something seems to flicker through their eyes. Frown quickly replaced by another excited smile, “Well, if you don’t like dragons, does that mean I can pick our hatchling? There was one I absolutely had my eyes on when we walked in.” 

   Hazel eyes roll in their sockets, a hand waving the excitable royal off, “Yeah, sure , whatever you want. Just don’t make me get up.” What Morgie is pretty sure is a squeal slips from their lips, (Y/n) bouncing out of their seat and over to the box up front, leaning over it with this big sweet smile. It could almost be admirable, something that Morgie would never admit out loud. The person who swallowed the sun in real life. An actual picture of the love of life, painted out right before you. There was something about them that was almost beautiful, or at least they could be. Maybe, if they weren’t coming back to him with the scrawniest little purple and orange hatchling cuddling against their chest. Its head against their chest as if it was listening to their heartbeat. Maybe it was, Morgie was almost sure that their heartbeat had to somehow be prettier or sweeter than other people’s. His sounded different, surely there were other people who had different heartbeats too. Perhaps that was just due to him being a shapeshifter? 

   “Okay this little tag on his collar says he’s a boy, isn’t that fun?” Morgie looks the dragon up and down, nose scrunching with distaste. “Honestly I always saw myself as more of a girl dad.” His comment earns him an eye roll and a giggle, “You know, Morgie, you’re really taking all of the fun out of this.” Now he’s the one laughing, glancing between the royal and the dragon. It hisses at him, a minor puff of fire coming with the sound which makes the boy jump, laughter dying for a look of shock. “There was never any fun in all of this. And that thing hates me.” “He’s not a thing, he’s our son, at least for a week.” The comment makes the boy look even more disgusted, staring at them as if looking for the second head they seemed to be growing. “He’s a pet at best, we do not have a child together. We will never have a child together. Don’t word it like that.” 

                               ╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

   He’d been away from (Y/n) and that dreadful little creature for a few hours now. If Morgie was lucky, they would recognize he was ignoring them and just take all the work, that was his hope at least. But of course, since Merlin and maybe even the gods above hate him, sunshine incarnate found him while he was sitting with his friends. Calling his name like a song as they come up behind him, that awful little dragon curled up against their chest. He pinches his eyes closed, head falling back with a groan as they approach, that perfect little smile on their face. “Okay, so I had him in all of my classes today and I already went and bought dragon food and things of the like since you were nowhere to be found. So I think it’s more than fair for you to take Viper for the first night, and I’ll come get him when your classes are over tomorrow for my night with him.” 

   Morgie doesn’t mean to let his jaw fall the way it does, his intention wasn’t the way his brows raise. But no one spoke to his friends like that, outside of them- they could actually be impossibly bossy with each other. “Yeah, no thanks,” he attempts to turn back to the poker game before them when he feels a hand snag his shoulder, forcing him to stay facing them. Okay, maybe sunshine was more of a rainbow. There was definitely some rain hidden behind them. “No. You aren’t scary enough to trick me into doing all your work for you. You get Viper tonight, I am not doing everything for you. I might be friends with her, but I am not Bridget. No one is pushing me around.” Maybe rain wasn’t the right word, fire. This was fire, and Morgie might be able to get something out of fire. 

   “Viper? I don’t remember agreeing to that.” There’s this odd look of satisfaction on their face as (Y/n) drops the dreadful collection of purple scales into his lap. “I thought you would like it, serpent boy. You’re both snake themed.” Of course they thought like that, why would he ever think otherwise. “Have fun with our kid, Daddio, I’ll collect him tomorrow! He better be alive and well,” Something about their voice is almost mocking, it draws a smirk to the boy’s face. Maybe Merlin Academy’s sweetheart had some tricks up their sleeve. Less of an angel than people thought, huh? He looks down to the dragon, the thing glaring up at him from its perch on his lap. “Well, I bet they’d be mad if I released you, wouldn’t they?” His hand reaches towards it and the dragon snaps its jaws, Morgie quickly recoiling. Wonderful, it hates him. 

                            ╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

   The last three days have been torture for Morgie le Fay, and not in the fun masochist way. (Y/n) (L/n) was exhausting, nothing he did was right. Of course, to be fair, nothing that he tried to do was correct. He knew that. Morgie had no interest in parenting a scaled flame thrower. He hated that thing, and Viper hated him right back. If it bit him one more time he was positive he would lose a hand. Morgie was good with animals, of the normal variety. The type of animals he could shift into were wonderful. But the only villain that the dreadful thing liked was Maleficent, the girl holding it more often than not when they were all together. Morgie likes to believe it was because she could turn into one of the dreadful things, and honestly he was starting to see her as less likable because of it. 

  But, he didn’t have to see it today. Tonight was (Y/n)’s night with it, he was free for just one night. No fights in the morning, no loss of sleep due to an overgrown lizard hoping on his feet and biting them.  At least, he was supposed to be free. So why was sunshine standing in his doorway, holding the creature he oh so dearly despised? Morgie drags a hand down his face, letting out a groan. “Why are you here, (Y/n)?” The perky smile they give him would be comforting if he wasn’t positive that they were planning something. “Well, Morgie, I think we got off on the wrong foot, all three of us,” they force their way into the dorm as they speak, that smile never faltering. “You, me, and the overgrown lizard?” “Baby dragon.” “Whatever,” he sighs, leaning against his door as he takes in the sight. They stand in his dorm like they’re meant to be there, smile ever so warm and bright.  Sunshine in the dark, villainous room. It was nauseating. 

    “So anyway, I thought that maybe the three of us should try bonding. I can’t tell for sure but I think that Viper agrees with me. So I am going to leave him here, and then I’ll be back with stuff for the three of us to have a movie night.” “Absolutely not,” Morgie scoffs, staring at them as if they had gone and lost their mind. “No, it’ll be fun Morgie. Plus everyone knows that you and Hook have a VCR hidden in here and I just bought ‘Nightmare on Elm Street’ on VHS.” He stares at them, waiting patiently for them to do something that lets him call their bluff. But they’re smiling, toying with their fingers as the dragon sits beside them, pawing at their leg. “You have Elm Street on VHS? You like horror movies?” They nod, an eager and fast motion that he was sure made them dizzy. “Yeah, who doesn’t? I also have jiffy pop and cold cokes. If you’re down that is,” there’s this longing hope in their eyes that seems to make his stomach churn. “You, little sunshine and rainbows. Mx. Giggles and cupcakes and tutoring, like horror? Like genuinely like horror movies?” “Is that so hard to believe?” It was. They were the picture of perfect and proper. Shouldn’t they be all over “Sixteen Candles” and “Footloose”? This would let him call their bluff, surely they were just trying to look good in front of a villain. 

   “Alright, go get it then.” A squeal comes out of their lips, the royal literally bouncing on their toes as they clap in excitement. “Perfect, you watch Viper and I will be right back!” They’re running out of the door before the boy can argue, typical. The little dragon jumping from where he was in the center of the room to the door, clawing at it with little barks and whines as if it was a puppy. He was kind of cute like that, not in the way an actual puppy would be, but still kinda cute. He’d actually gotten a little bit bigger since the two of them took him in, all (Y/n)’s doing Morgie was sure. They had been the one to pick out the food, and seemingly the only one who could get the thing to do any tricks. It could care less about listening to Morgie. The sorcerer was beginning to wonder if this was how Maleficent’s mother felt, having a little dragon refuse to listen because it hates you. That would be something. 

   “Get off the door,” the boy groans, throwing himself on his bed. It doesn’t seem to care what he said. “Dragon, stop,” he groans, shaking his head as it seems to get more aggressive. “Dragon! Stop scratching the door!” Though he can’t see it, Morgie can feel the way that his eyes flash into snake eyes, something that only seemed to be involuntary when he was angered. Why did that stupid lizard need his project partner so badly? What made it hate him from the second they met? This is ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous. He was a sorcerer of dark magic, a shapeshifter, that stupid animal should like him more than Mx. Sunshine and lollipops. What is this thing’s problem? 

   When the door’s catch clicks, Morgie lets out a soft sigh, thankful that (Y/n) was back to make the creature stop. “What the fuck?” Hook hollers, jumping back as the dragon hatchling shoots past him, somewhere between running and flying as it tries to get away from them. “Mate, your awful little pet got out,” he snaps, making a b-line for his bed as he strips from his jacket. He hated that thing. Morgie was absolutely positive that he hated that thing, so why is his stomach dropping to his feet? In a flash, Morgie had clambered to his feet, dashing to the door and snatching it back open. 

    (Y/n) wasn’t expecting Morgie to snatch the door open in their face, his own a mix of terror and shame. “Morgie, what in the world-” They don’t get to finish before he snatches the VHS and snacks from their hands dropping them on the table the boys kept by the door before pushing past them. “The dragon wouldn’t stop trying to get to you and then Hook opened the door and the little thing got out.” “You let him get out?” They could feel fear running through their chest as they realized their new companion, their biggest grade of the semester, was godmother knows where. This was bad, this was insanely fucking bad. “Hook let him out, not me!” “This is so fucking bad,” they nearly whimper, staring down the hall the opposite way from where they came to see if maybe Viper would still be visible. “You swear?” 

    They turn to him as if he’s crazy. “You are focused on the wrong thing right now, le Fay. Now come on,” their hand encircles his wrist, dragging the boy down the hall. He would normally fight it, but they looked so scared, and he felt so guilty, so his feet keep pace with theirs. Where do dragons hide anyway? Where would a dragon go if looking for them? Not their dorm, it went the wrong way for that. “Courtyard,” it's straight forward, gentler than he’d ever spoken to them as they pause for a second. “What?” “We hand Viper off in the Courtyard. If he’s trying to find you, that’s where he is.” A smile breaks across their lips and for a moment they let them both stop to breathe. “What?” It only gets bigger, all bright and sunny again, “You called him ‘him’, and his name. You haven’t done that all week.” He stares at them, his own little smile cracking out across his lips, “Yeah, well, it matters to you.” (Y/n) stands on their toes, tapping the tip of Morgie’s nose, “I think we’re growing on you, serpent boy.”  He hums, rolling his eyes but he can’t break the smile, “Yeah, whatever you say. Now come on, let’s go get our dragon.” 

   The two should have let go of each other by now, they know that. Yet (Y/n)’s hand stays firmly on Morgie’s wrist as they make their way to the courtyard. Both teenagers were hyper aware of the fact that something had changed between them, some little weight lifted from both of their shoulders. Not that they’d mention it, not now anyway. They aren’t supposed to exist in the same world, the week would be over and so would any idea of friendship that might be blooming in their minds. A villain and someone who was friends with Bridget could never be friends. That was law. They get to the courtyard in a comfortable silence, the only one that had ever existed between them. Of course, the little dragon wouldn’t just be out in the open, they should have both known that. But that doesn’t stop (Y/n) from getting a little anxious, eyes whipping around the yard wildly in a panic. 

   “Morgie, he’s not here. He’s not here, we lost him. We’re gonna fail and I’m going to lose him. This is awful.” He doesn’t realize he’s reaching out to them until his hand lands adoringly on their shoulder, forcing the royal to turn to him. Once they are, his hand slides to rest under their chin, tilting it upwards. “Hey, he’s probably just hiding because he got scared when you weren’t here. Let’s split up, check the bushes on either side of the yard. I bet you half the bag of haribos in my room that he’s just curled up somewhere.” They nod, taking a deep breath as they step away from him, turning to go check the left side of the courtyard. Leaving him with the right, and the speed he makes towards the bushes shocks even him. This little dragon meant far too much to them, he couldn’t be the thing that let it get lost. Even if it was Hook’s fault, in a way it was his, wasn’t it? He never tried to care for Viper, never tried to bond with it. So of course, he wouldn’t want to be around the sorcerer. He caused this, and if they couldn’t find him, Morgie would own up to that. Maybe Madam Harleen would give (Y/n) a do over? 

   Not that they would need one, when he checks his third bush in the courtyard, something hisses at him. A tiny puff of fire coming with the sound. “Viper,” the name comes out on a sigh of relief as he reaches down for the little dragon. Delicately lifting him up and against his own chest. “You had us worried sick, you know that?” At the comment, (Y/n) turns around. Their face lights up as they stare at the little dragon, the hatchling fighting in Morgie’s arms to get to his preferred owner. Sunshine itself bounces up to Morgie, relieved and excited hands reaching out for him to hand Viper over. He waits until they’re close enough and softly slip the hatchling into their hands. Watching with a strange adoration as they nuzzle their nose against the top of Viper’s head. “Don’t you ever do that again.” Like a mother scolding their child who ran off in the mall they reprimand the little creature, smiling up at Morgie when they’re satisfied. “Thank you.” 

   “Thank me? I’m the reason he got out.” “But, you cared enough to help me look for him. So whether it was for him, or me, or our grade. Thank you.” He smiles back, reaching out to scratch Viper between the wings. “Yeah, well you can make it up to me with movie night.” They smirk, raising their eyebrows, “Maybe. Depends on what type of Haribos you’re hiding in that room of yours.” Of course they would harp on that, the creature of sugar and sun that they were. “Happy colas, but if I pull them out and Hook sees he will for sure demand that I share with him.” He’s met with a hum, and a playful glint in their eyes as they seem to be plotting something. “Yeah well, we can hide them between us. I’m sure you’ll end up clinging to me anyway. I bet you’re a bitch when it comes to horror movies.” He should be offended, he know he should, but instead Morgie’s body is racked with laughter. “Oh you do swear! Who would have thought? Does your mommy know you act like that?” “Oh shut up!” They’re laughing too, smirk falling to a real laugh. “Does Bridget know you act like that? I thought I was the bully here.” He catches a playful smack to the shoulder, laughing as they grab his hand, “Come on. Let’s go before the Jiffy pop gets all gross.”

[psychologicalwarclaire]

👀can you do a Kai and Zane fic with 7 and 18 pls 🙏🙏🙏 We don’t get to see their brotherly dynamic very often anymore

Prompt list by @promptsbytaurie

Half pinned beneath a large chunk of earth, Zane tried to remain calm.

It was lucky his nerve-circuits shut off after a certain level, or else he would have been in severe pain. Alarms popped up in front of his eyes. Severed sensors. Impeded gears. Skin integrity at 20%.

The cave in had happened without warning.

Well, upon inspection of his recent recorded memories, maybe there had been some warning signs. Not that Zane and Kai had noticed, as they'd been too busy discussing how to get the Geckles to actually team up with the Munce.

Wait, Kai...

"K-Kai-i-i?" Zane called. Another warning popped up indicating the obvious: vocalizing systems damaged.

Zane swallowed down his panic as the list of known injuries and malfunctions grew. They were under a mountain. With no tools to repair him. No materials to repair him.

Why did these things always happen to him?

"Zane!" Kai's voice bounced off of the rocks from everywhere.

The Nindroid shifted. The horrible sound of stone against metal met his ears. Hm. Maybe it was not so lucky that he couldn't feel anything.

A different type of red filled his vision. Not the terrifying red blaring WARNING. WARNING. WARNING. A familiar, comforting red. Warm, fierce, protective red.

Kai.

Luckily, the worst of Kai's injuries seemed to be a slight limp in his left leg and the dried blood under his nose.

"A-a-ahhh," Zane struggled. "Glad-d yo-ou're ok-k-k-k--"

The red ninja's face twisted as if he were the one being crushed beneath approximately half a ton of earth. "That's not good."

"I w-would much ra-a-ather it be m-me tha-an you." Zane's mouth tasted like angry TV static. It was good Zane didn't technically need to breathe because he was pretty sure human lungs would not have been functioning in this situation. Still, the sensation of having his chest crushed was not great. "I-I am... st-tist-c-ically the bet-t-tt-t--"

"Nope, no, none of that!" Kai snapped. He was doing something with the rocks. Surely didn't Kai realize that Zane was stuck, stuck? "Just stop. Stop talking like that. You're not expendable, you're not a walking sacrifice, you're not going to die. You're gonna be FINE, Zane. I promise."

Zane winced as more harsh scraping filled his ears. His head vibrated with the movement of the stones.

He opened his mouth to warn Kai that his vision was only filling with more and more and more warnings but nothing came out. Kai himself kept glitching in and out of focus.

As Zane opened his mouth, the only thing that came out was a high pitched whine.

Kai froze, then started tugging on the rocks with renewed vigor. "You're not getting taken out by a stupid boulder, Buddy," he growled. "That's just not-- just not fair!"

"s-s-s--ns-s-se wh-e-e-en.... ever-r-r-r... f-f-fai-r-r-r.....?" Systems powering down.

It was going to be fine. Zane was going to be fine. Kai would make sure Zane was fine.

...the rocks weren't so bad when they were entirely out of focus. The edges were soft. Soft like a bed for him to snuggle into. He was already tucked in, wasn't he? Exhaustion pulled him further into the welcoming earth.

"Zane?! Cut it out, buddy! Wake up. You wake back up right now, you jerk or- or I'm telling Pixel! Zane? Zane!!"

He always came back. The universe had decided a long time ago that Zane wasn't allowed to die.

More importantly, Kai had decided a long time ago that Zane wasn't allowed to die.

Kai has been a lot kinder to him than the universe ever had. Zane would much rather be in the hands of his firey brother than the universe that loved using him as a chew toy.

As everything faded away, the last thing to go was Kai's panicked voice. It would be okay.

Eventually.