#he couldn't see far enough down the hall and got scared

[turqrambles]

One of my favorite small details in MediEvil Resurrection is that the very second the opening cutscene ends and you first get to control Sir Daniel, he's already ripped off one of his arms to use as a blungeoning weapon.

Al-Zalam was like "Okay, Bonehead. Let's defeat Zar-*LOUD FABRIC TEARING NOISES*-WHOA whatthef-" because Dan didn't see a weapon within reach of his tomb and panicked.

[globalrebrand]

i love all ur depictions of vil and i’m so happy u took a liking to lyney who’s also my fav ❤️ ur toxic vil in particular haunts my brain, lives in my floorboards and echoes in the halls of my mind at night….so may i humbly please request “forcing them to divulge past traumas or secrets” with vil? 🥹

Warnings: Dead dove, do not eat. Mentions of past sexual assault, nonconsensual age gap relationship.

Vil had been quiet since you'd left the party.

This wasn't unlike him. At the end of a long night of socializing, he generally preferred to hold your hand or, even better, sit with you tucked against his side in the back of his car while his driver navigated you both to his penthouse.

But tonight, the gap between the middle seat felt like an unbridgeable canyon stretched between the two of you.

It was his father's 50th birthday celebration held at the family home. The Shaftlands elite came out in droves to celebrate the beloved Eric Venue.

The night started well enough. Vil was more than happy to introduce you to his wider circle of famous friends and loved ones. As an up-and-coming model with a promising career (even more so with Vil proudly claiming you as his), your agent wouldn't let you forget how this was a rare opportunity to expand your network, but you weren't here for any of that. Tonight, all you wanted to do was support your boyfriend and his father at this critical milestone.

Vil made the rounds with you, introducing you to well known actors, actresses, veteran supermodels, producers and directors all gathered to celebrate his father.

You and Vil were in fragile territory as a couple. If you were able to successfully demonstrate that you could be one of them, an elite, a star, then you and Vil were looking at a future as one of the foremost power couples in the industry.

Thankfully, things were going splendidly; you spoke at the correct times and came off as appropriately humble and down to earth as an outsider in such an elite group. You took great pride in how Vil beamed as he watched you gracefully interact with these other celebrities, your natural charisma on full display. It was hard to get any higher off the fumes of his affection, then he paused, observing you with a tender look and petting the apple of your cheek with a smooth thumb before quietly admitting, "I'm so happy I have you."

That was until you ran into him.

"There's one more person I want you to meet," Vil said warmly, urging you away from your current conversation to meet a distinguished-looking white-haired gentleman.

"Uncle Valle, this is my girlfriend." Vil beamed but the director had a sickening look on his face, ignoring his nephew and addressing you with far too much familiarity.

"Long time no see." You froze. Valle Mensing is a world-famous director and a man you'd desperately hoped never to see again.

"Uh- I think you're mistaken. It's nice to meet you." You avoided eye contact, suddenly finding your shoes interesting, was you felt Vil bore daggers into the side of your head.

The older man raises an eyebrow in slight disbelief.

"Hmmm, you're right my mistake." Thankfully Valle just patted Vil on the back mentioning, "lovely girl you got there, take good care of her."

Vil grabbed your hand and tugged you close to whisper in your ear.

"What was that?" You wouldn't do this now, couldn't.

"Vil, I feel a little sick. I'm going to step out into the garden. If you'll excuse me," you excused yourself, leaving Vil absolutely baffled and more than definitely ensuring that he was suspicious of your interaction with his beloved uncle.

You had no idea they were so close, and now you were scared. You prayed Vil would just let it alone, as unlikely as it would be, but you didn't want to make him choose. Rather, you didn't want to be rejected by him in favor of his dastardly uncle.

You both left shortly after. Vil's mood was considerably soured, and a paranoid expression became etched into your features.

Now, it has been about 20 minutes of driving, and still, no word has passed between you.

Uncertain of what to anticipate, you needed to at least confirm where Vil would be dropping you off tonight. You had a sinking suspicion that your behavior tonight didn't earn you the privilege to share his bed.

"Are you dropping me off or-" You're quickly interrupted.

"What relationship do you have with my uncle?" Vil turned to look at you, his eyes already brimming with judgment.

The impulse to lie was so strong. You'd done it for so long. You knew Vil would likely see right through it, but you had to try. Try to protect yourself and him from the truth. It was only when you were with Vil that you felt as if you had any worth. If he knew your past, what had actually transpired between you and his uncle, you're certain he would no longer want you.

And then, who would you be?

"I don't have any-" You started, but as you suspect, you were cut off almost immediately.

"Why did he say 'long time no see?'" Vil questioned, leering over you with a raised brow. "Don't play dumb. It's unbecoming." He scolded, a coldness in his eyes but an unmistakable look of morbid curiosity. Vil likely already suspected what you would reveal to him, but he wanted to hear it from your lips and force you to bear the most vulnerable parts of yourself to him.

"Vil I-"

"I saw you speak to him in the garden. What were you speaking about."

"It was a long time ago." Your face was hot, and your voice pinched and weary. Tears threatening to spill at any moment.

Vil sighed, exasperated and desperate for the truth. It was obvious he was done waiting for you to confess in earnest.

"Did you fuck him?" The words struck you like a blade to the chest.

"Please, I-" You wanted to retreat and hide, but there was no cover from Vil's relentless barrage of questions and accusations in the backseat.

"Did you or did you not. If you don't tell me now, we're finished."

A long silence passed between you as you tried to form the words in your mouth.

"Yes." The words come out cracked and dry. A horrible truth you didn't want to deny. The tears had started falling now, hysterical sobs wracking your entire body. You prayed the driver had the decency not to spare you a glance.

"Did he force you?" Vil questioned. Less angry, but not even remotely comforting.

"It doesn't matter, please. I just want to live in the now with you!"

"He did, didn't he. He raped you?" You tried to verbalize to say yes, he did...many times, but all you could do was nod wordlessly.

"I need you to tell me exactly what happened tonight."

"H-he asked me why I didn't tell you about our relationship. And I said because it's not something I'm proud of." Calming yourself with stuttering breaths, you admit, "Vil, I'm not lying when I say it is my greatest shame."

"Why don't people know about this?" He's angry. Hurt.

"Because...I wasn't exactly of age at the time." Vil startles, like you've smacked him.

Quietly, as asked, "How old were you?"

"15."

He curses in his native tongue, looking angry and disgusted.

"My agency lied about my age to get me into the country." You went on to explain.

I didn't want to, but they said the connection would benefit my career, and I didn't know any better.

"I've never told anyone."

At that Vil perked up. A pitying look on his face as he embraced you for the first time since you left the party.

"You should not have been subjected to anything so horrible."

We'll go to my home. I wouldn't want you to be alone after having to face that awful man.

"You won't say anything, right?" You plead. Vil tsks.

My love, he can't be allowed to go free.

Think about all of the other women- No. Girls. He's hurt because of your silence.

You were very courageous in telling me, but I cannot allow you to be silent about this any longer."

Don't worry, darling. No one who hurts will ever be allowed to go unpunished.

You nodded and clung tighter to your boyfriend, grateful that, at least, he didn't seem like he would leave you, but somehow, you weren't comforted by his assertion.

[oliversrarebooks]

fuck you, I'm a goddamn menace part 2: you can't be fucking serious

Masterlist > Next

TW: abuse, injuries, concussion, sedation, medical whump

Morgan awoke slowly, the sting of antiseptic in his nose. The only thing he could hear past the painful ringing in his ears was the soft beep of medical equipment. His body ached, especially his knee and upper back, and his head was pounding. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly. He knew exactly where he must be -- in the medbay at his boss's lair -- and the longer they thought he was unconscious, the longer he could relax and heal before the punishments began.

His memories were vague. Lights overhead. Voices. The beeping of medical equipment. A rubber mask on his face.

He lay there, drifting in and out. The pain felt so fuzzy and indistinct. Painkillers? That was new. Salcedo never gave him painkillers. He loved to watch Morgan suffer way too much for that. You wouldn't make it far among the crime lords of the city if you didn't enjoy your work, after all. 

Maybe there was some trick to the fact that he was being allowed this pleasant buzz. Let him relax and let his guard down so it'd hurt more later. He could figure that out when his head felt better.

"...awake..."

Fuck. It was starting. Morgan tried not to react.

"Morgan, are you awake? We just need you to respond to make sure you've woken up from the anesthetics, and then you can go back to sleep, promise."

Morgan couldn't help his face twitching as he recognized that absolutely infuriating voice. Arthur. His blasted nemesis.

Oh, that's right, he had been captured. Lucky fucking him. He got to be completely at the mercy of the hero he'd been tormenting for years. And at the end of it, he might get the wonderful experience of his boss busting him out of captivity only to punish him for his failures.

"Morgan, please, wake up."

Begrudgingly, Morgan opened his eyes, and immediately wished he hadn't. Even the dim light of the room was like an icepick to the brain. He looked over to see the smug fucking face of Arthur, and that was even worse.

"I'm awake. What do you want?" he said, his voice weak and slurred. He was definitely drugged, he could tell, because he could barely even muster up the strength to be scared of what was going to happen to him.

"Good. That's very good," said Arthur. He sounded kind. No, he sounded like he pitied Morgan. Oh, fuck that. "You gave us all quite a scare. It was a little touch-and-go for a bit there, but the surgery went well, and you should make a full recovery, as long as you get lots of rest."

Morgan swallowed hard, trying to comprehend this. He'd been given surgery? What the fuck had they done to him? He was in pain all over, but he certainly didn't feel like he'd been turned into a mantis-man hybrid or anything like that. Or been lobotomized.

...Had they seriously just patched him up? After everything he'd done? If there was anyone naive and soft-hearted enough to do that, it was his fucking nemesis.

"How are you feeling?" said Arthur, his voice too gentle.

"Like your whole team shoved me into a woodchipper and danced on the mulch."

"Yes... Julie went a little too hard with the energy blasts. She's still learning how to control it," said Arthur. "But you know, you were..."

"None of this would've happened if I weren't trying to install a zombification device inside city hall? Yeah, got it, lesson learned, next time I install it in your stupid fucking hero lair."

Arthur scowled. "Was the plan your idea or your boss's?"

"As though my boss could build something like that. Did you even notice the craftsmanship, or were you too busy punching it apart?"

Arthur sat back in his chair, looking as if something was on his mind.

The room was filled with medical equipment, the kind Morgan could control with his technomancy. He reached out slowly, feeling like he was fighting through a wall of cotton, and got no response. The familiar, tell-tale feel of power suppressors. They were probably in the restraints. 

"You know, Morgan," Arthur said after a long moment, "when we had you under for surgery, our medic, Laurel, performed an examination."

Morgan turned away. He could tell where this was going.

"There were a lot of injuries there. Injuries that didn't seem like ones you got while fighting us."

"Training."

"It looked like you'd been kicked in the ribs repeatedly without proper healing," Arthur said. "And there were marks that looked like they'd been left by a taser, and a lot of electrical burns."

"Heavy training."

"That's not training, Morgan!" Arthur actually sounded angry, now, and it took all of Morgan's willpower not to flinch away. "I'm not even discussing the massive amount of nasty bruises or that infected cut on your shoulder. Those could've been sustained while fighting heroes. But not all of that. And even if they were, everything looked like it had healed wrong or been left to scar. There's no way that's normal. I know your usual activities. I see the reports of all of your fights. No hero did those things to you. Certainly not my team."

Ugh. What was the point of all this? To humiliate him? Now his nemesis probably knew all about his poor condition, his chronic pain and his trick elbow and the scars littering his back. And it wasn't like it was going to get any better when his boss got him back. Fucking wonderful.

But Arthur didn't sound humiliating or mocking. He sounded concerned, which was almost even worse. "Morgan, did your boss do those things to you?"

Morgan rolled his eyes and turned away. Or he would've turned away if he weren't so heavily restrained he couldn't roll over.

"Morgan, I'm serious. Did your boss --"

"No, of course not," said Morgan, packing his voice with as much sarcasm as he could muster. "You know how Salcedo is. Every time you defeat me, he gives me a nice pat on the head and a participation trophy, and he tells me that it's okay I failed, because I tried and had fun."

Arthur sighed. "He's abusing you."

"He's giving me my quarterly performance reviews. You're abusing my patience."

"While you were sedated, you kept fighting us off, saying you weren't allowed to sleep. Does he prevent you from sleeping?"

Fucking drugs. Morgan barely remembered what had happened, much less what he'd said. He remembered hitting the wall, pain, pain, pain, and then the most beautiful and relaxing feeling in the world, and finally oblivion. 

"...It's been obvious to me for a long time that your health is deteriorating."

"Shut the fuck up," said Morgan, his sarcasm dissolving with his frustration. "You don't understand a goddamn thing about my life, so don't pretend like you do."

"I understand that you're being abused!"

"I'm being trained to fight your team," said Morgan through gritted teeth. "Rich of you to go on about being abused when it was Julie who gave me a sixty mile per hour impact with a concrete fucking wall."

"That was an accident and you know it. And there's a huge difference between thwarting your plans and casually abusing you."

Morgan looked down at his hands. Like he hadn't noticed how the hero team always pulled their punches to avoid injuring him too much, even when he was scheming something really nasty. Like he wasn't so much more afraid of his boss than his nemesis. Like he really needed his nemesis's smug pity.

Why couldn't Arthur just fucking take revenge or whatever? It wouldn't even be that bad while he was hopped up on drugs. Hell, Arthur was probably too soft a heart to pull half the shit Salcedo liked to, even though he had far more reason. Just get it the fuck over with.

"Could you spare me your fucking after school special bullshit and just tell me what you're going to do with me?" With any luck, they would throw him in ordinary jail and not that awful psychiatric hospital. Either way, it wouldn't stop his boss from finding him and pulling him out again whenever he decided Morgan was needed. Or needed to be punished.

"Well, we can't let you go free, obviously," said Arthur. "But if we put you in jail, you're just going to get captured by Salcedo again."

Oh, Morgan hated the way he phrased that. Captured. Like he was a civilian being taken hostage and not Salcedo's right hand man and a terrifying villain in his own right.

Arthur was leaning in closer. "You don't have to work for Salcedo, you know."

Morgan's eyes went wide with shock as he realized the turn this conversation was taking. He laughed sharply, a little maniacally. "Are you serious? Are you fucking serious, Arthur?" he said. "Did you also hit your head on a wall? Did you forget who you're talking to?"

"I think I know you quite well by now, yes."

"And you're seriously trying to get me to go straight? Join your merry little band of idiot heroes?"

"...it would take a lot of work, and a lot of trust, but yes, eventually. It's something I've thought about on more than one occasion," said Nemesis, who, against all odds, seemed to be completely serious. "Look, let's cut the bullshit. Salcedo is abusing you. Don't even try to deny it, because I've seen more than enough evidence. He's beating you, burning you, god knows what else. He's working you to the bone on ridiculous plans that will never work, and makes you the fall guy for them while he escapes unscathed."

Every word of that was true, and hearing it from Arthur made him want to punch him in the face.

"You're a smart guy. Ridiculously smart. And despite what you claim, you have ethical standards. Remember the time the two of us teamed up to get those kids out of the burning school?"

"They were kindergartners, c'mon --"

"You have ethical standards, no matter how shaky they can be. And you have courage and talent," said Arthur. 

"You think I can be won over with cheap flattery, seriously, Arthur?"

"How about cheap flattery and a cool costume?" he said. "But seriously consider what I'm telling you. You're a smart guy. We pay well, maybe not as well as Salcedo, but enough, and you'd get overtime when you have to work late. We have health insurance. Most importantly, nobody is going to beat you to within an inch of your life if you screw up."

"Oh, yeah, sure thing, I'll just do that," said Morgan. "And I'm sure that, after everything I've done to you, you're all just going to protect me when Salcedo shows up to get me back."

"Yes. I will. I absolutely will," he said. "...Because he's going to kill you. We both know that. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but someday. And you don't deserve that."

Fuck. He sounded so serious. He was using his superhero voice. The one he used to tell terrified hostages that he was going to save them and that nobody was getting hurt. The one that was usually directed at the civilians Morgan was menacing.

 "I don't expect you to make this decision overnight," said Arthur, standing up. "You've got a lot of healing to do. A lot of time to think over where your life is headed."

"And you're just gonna let me heal?" said Morgan skeptically. "You've got me totally at your mercy in what I assume is your underground secret lair, and you're just going to let me lay here and heal up my injuries?"

"Yes. I mean it. I know you don't believe me, but it's true. As long as you don't try to cause harm to any of us, no harm will come to you while you're here. I swear it." Arthur turned as he was about to walk out the door. "All I'm asking is that you think about what I said to you. We'll talk again. The nurse is here to see you."

And he was gone, and Morgan felt utterly exhausted.

An older woman wearing scrubs with pride-flag-colored fish on them entered the room. She looked tired and a little scared. "Well, uh, Arthur tells me you're awake and lucid, Mr.... uh... Mr. Morgan," she said. "That's good. You were in pretty bad shape."

"Hmph."

"Can I look in your eyes with this penlight, please? You had a really nasty concussion, so you're probably going to be very tired and disoriented for a while as you recover."

Great. It was super great to be concussed and useless in the hero's lair. Still, he submitted to Laurel's eye exam without a fuss. It was one thing to sass his nemesis -- putting up a fuss for the medic was pointless when she was just trying to do her job.

"The only thing you can really do right now is get some rest," she said. "I can give you some painkillers, and some sedation if you think you'll have trouble sleeping. Would that be okay?"

Morgan let out a sharp laugh. "Oh, sure, yeah, I really want to be drugged up and helpless in the hero's lair."

"Well, you're not going anywhere," she pointed out. "You'll heal a lot faster if you get some rest."

Morgan scowled. He couldn't afford to be lounging on a bed in a drugged haze. He had to work on finding a way to escape, preferably with some valuable information or a hostage, in the hopes he could catch Salcedo in a good mood. 

But no matter how he looked at it, he was already exhausted, concussed, power-repressed, and in restraints. He wasn't successfully escaping a team of heroes in this condition, sedated or not. And if they wanted him at their mercy, they could come knock him out whenever they felt like it. 

So what difference would it make if he were drugged again? God knows his life was going to fucking suck enough once Salcedo came to drag him back. Might as well feel artificially good for a few hours.

"Yeah, I'll take it. Give me the good shit," said Morgan. 

"Right away," she said with a laugh. She pulled a few bottles of clear liquid from her pocket, and, consulting a chart attached to his bed, began to measure out doses. "You know, it's really interesting to finally get to meet you, Mr. Morgan."

"Scared?" he said, attempting his most menacing grin.

"...well, I haven't forgotten the things you've done," she said, which really wasn't what you wanted to hear when someone was preparing a syringe for you. "But the team thinks you deserve a chance, and it's a medical professional's responsibility to provide care for anyone, no matter their past. So I'll treat you like I would any innocent person. You have my word." The look in her eyes was distant. "You're not so frightening now, anyway."

Morgan tried to push down his unease. "Fuck you, I'm a goddamn menace."

"Of course you are," she said, injecting the drugs into Morgan's IV line. "This should kick in in a few minutes. It's going to make you very drowsy. I suggest actually getting some sleep and not fighting it. We'll be monitoring you, but if you have any complications, hit this button."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," said Morgan, smarting from the fact that he couldn't even intimidate the medic. He was at her mercy. He didn't like being at anyone else's mercy. He knew how he treated people he had at his mercy. How his boss treated people.

He hated being on the receiving end, when he was normally such a fearsome and threatening...

Fearsome and threatening...

Ohhh.

Whatever Laurel had injected hit him like a truck, because suddenly he was feeling real fucking good. It was like all of his anxiety melted away, his tight muscles loosening, the pounding in his head finally lightening up. He felt like he were being wrapped up into a wool blanket and carried off on a soft cloud to slumberland. 

Any thoughts of trying to scheme his way out of the hero's stronghold evaporated from his mind. He didn't even bother fighting as his eyelids grew heavy and threatened to close. He was so tired and felt so good. Sleep would feel amazing.

You're a smart guy. Just think about it. Arthur's words echoed in his mind as he began to drift.

Fuck you, Arthur. Like it was all so fucking simple.

Arthur probably knew him better than just about anyone. He must know that it would never work. Why even bother?

Morgan couldn't help but picture himself laughing and joking with Toshiro and Satomi and Julie, dressed in one of their ridiculous bright uniforms, working on gadgetry to help people instead of constantly getting his beautiful machines smashed to bits. 

Ridiculous. The fact that he was even thinking about it was the drugs talking. And now, the drugs were whispering to him that he should really just get some sleep. When would he ever get to sleep this well? Certainly not when his boss came to pick him up.

Part 1 >> Masterlist > Next

@cardboardarsonist @zeiniszein @crystallizedme @mistythedritten @pigeonwhumps @whumpshaped @sparrowsage

[blindmagdalena]

a prayer in perfect piety (homelander x plus-size reader)

originally written as this prompt here. 18+. 5.2k, f!reader, body image, smut. see AO3 Link for detailed tags.

Homelander invites you, his girlfriend, to your first public event as a couple. He's over the moon to show you off to the world, dressed to the nines and utterly smitten with one another. At some point, he loses track of you in the crowd. Confused, he goes looking for you, only to find you crying your eyes out in a bathroom on an entirely different floor. Someone hurt you, and he's going to put them in their place.

Tonight's gala is a significant one. Not only does Homelander have about a dozen deals to grease with a firm handshake and some oily promises, it's your first time attending one of these events at his side.

He couldn't be prouder.

You took his breath away in your formal wear; a sight to behold that had him clapping his delight. "You're gonna knock them dead," he whispered in your ear, savoring the flustered, breathy way you laughed. Strange now that when he looks for you, Homelander doesn't see you on the event floor. You had gone to get drinks while he spoke with this senator—who has officially lost any and all of his interest in the wake of your disappearance—but you've been gone too long. Like an itch at the back of his neck, something doesn't feel right.

"Ah, apologies, senator, I seem to have misplaced my date," he says, flashing his best award winning smile. "Gimme a minute to find her. Make sure she hasn't gotten herself into any trouble," he says, throwing in a wink for good measure. His pleasant expression falls off as soon as his back is turned to the boring little man. When Homelander doesn't find you on the event floor, he steps out. He listens for you, filtering out the music, the chatter, the noise of the world. He seeks what is familiar to him, what he would know from a meter or a mile away, and what he hears puts a lump of ice into his gut. You're crying . Homelander moves swiftly down the hall, finding the women's bathroom in a heartbeat. You've gone far from the  event floor, bypassing the nearer bathroom to use one further away. You're hiding, he realizes, but he can't fathom what from. He moves faster, imagining that you're hurt, that someone has you, that— "Babe?!" Homelander calls sharply, slamming open the door. He doesn't mean to scare you, but he can see in your expression that he did. Your eyes are wide and red, tears trailing black mascara down your cheeks. You stand with your hand lingering on the bathroom sink, and as the shock fades, your expression falters. He's never seen you look so... sad. It twists in him like a hot knife, the discomfort he feels at it turning immediately into rage. Anger comes quickly and easily to him. His voice is low when he demands, "Tell me what happened." "It's nothing," you try to dismiss, picking up the tissues you dropped on the floor to toss them into the garbage. "I just got overwhelmed at the party." "You're crying in a bathroom a floor down from the event, it is categorically not nothing," he argues, taking hold of your arms once he's near enough. He pulls you into him, lifting a hand to cup the side of your face. Thanks to plenty of experience with makeup in film and television, he knows better than to smear the blackened tears on your cheeks, though the impulse to wipe them away is there. "C'mon. Tell me." You lean into him as you always do. He is a pillar, just as you have been for him. He can't stand seeing you like this. "I don't belong here. I don't... talk, or dress, or look like these people. They're all..." You lift your hands, gesturing vaguely. Your voice sounds hoarse. He can't bear the sadness in it. "Perfect." "You have to be kidding me," Homelander says, his disbelief genuine. "The gaggle of sycophants and suits back there? They're insipid. Boring as all hell. I can't even tolerate being in the same room as them without you anymore," he says, huffing a laugh in an attempt to ease your mood. Anything to bring back your smile. "Seriously, what brought this on? You've never given a shit about all that pomp before." Your gaze drops. He knows you're hiding something from him. "Hey, c'mon," he coos, using the knuckle of his index finger to tilt your chin back up. "Tell me, and I will make it better." One way or another. With visible reluctance, you take a breath. "I... went to get a drink, like I said," you begin, fidgeting with the zipper on his glove. "When a group of people kind of cornered me at the bar. They seemed nice at first, they were asking questions about me, about us, which I know you said to expect, but then..."

Your eyes prickle, he can see fresh tears well up as you speak. Homelander slips a hand to your back, rubbing it, his brow furrowed. Sounds like someone's going to die. "One of them commented on my dress, she said that... Vought must not be used to dressing women my size," you say, voice falling quieter with every word. New tears fall. Homelander's jaw tenses. He looks away from you, blinking back that familiar crimson burn.

"They all started laughing, and I just wanted to disappear," you say, a tight little sob escaping your throat as Homelander pulls you in against his chest, rubbing your back. "I'm sorry I didn't-"

"No," Homelander interrupts, his anger making the word sound harsher than he intended. "No," he says again, correcting himself to be gentler. This rage isn't for you, after all. "No apologies. Let's get you cleaned up, alright? Get back out there."

Someone is definitely going to die.

You tense up, pushing back from his arms to look up at him. "Please, I'd really like to just go home."

"We will," he assures you, smoothing his hands up and down your arms. "Soon. I want you to show me the group who spoke to you."

"I don't want to cause a scene," you plead, flattening your hands to his chest. "They're not worth it."

"No, they're not. But you are," he says, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips. He holds you firm until he feels you begin to melt, yielding to the warmth of him. “Let me make this better.”

By the time he draws back, you look sufficiently pliant. "Okay," you say quietly. He bites back a predatory smirk. "Nothing too dramatic, please?" You plea, leveling him with an attempt at a firm look, despite your big watery eyes. He’s never been less intimidated in his life, and never more endeared.

"Me? Dramatic?" He asks, feigning outrage.

"I mean it," you stress, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

There it is, Homelander thinks. There is not a single heinous thing he would not do to see you smile. "Relax," he purrs. "I'll handle this."

When the two of you return to the event floor, it only takes you a moment to point out the offending group. With an arm wrapped securely around your waist, Homelander brazenly guides you to them. He feels you squeeze his hand  anxiously, but he isn't the least bit deterred. "Heyyy, what's up!" Homelander greets boisterously, bulldozing into their conversation with the friendliest of tone. Only you are wise enough to recognize the venom dripping from the corners of his mouth. His canines glint sharply in the light, eager for a bloody meal. The air is strange, a mixture of drunken excitement and surprised nervousness. It's not every day Homelander himself steps into your conversation. A few of them look at you before they exchange  glances, but clearly enough alcohol has been imbibed that they're feeling brave. They don't see the danger they're in.

Homelander runs his tongue along his teeth. Clueless fucking idiots."Homelander, oh my god! I was hoping to run into you," one of the women announces. He can smell the liquor on her breath when she leans in, putting a bold hand on his arm opposite to the one he holds you with. "I'm such a fan, you have no idea. I've seen every one of your movies," she says, flushed giddy. "Always great to meet such a dedicated fan," he says, lying through his teeth. A glance through the material of her bag gives him exactly what he needs; her Vought security badge. She works in communications. "Kathleen, right? In Communications," he says, pointing a finger at her, his eyes slightly narrowed, as if he's just now recalling this information.

"Oh, I-wow, yes! I can't believe you know who I am," she says, glancing back at her companions. "I try to know everyone I work with," he lies smoothly, subtly shrugging her hand off of his shoulder, placing his hand on his hip. Not all of them work for Vought, but all of them have their ID on them. A quick flit of his super powered vision between them is all it takes for him to know each and every one of their names. Homelander cocks his head to the side, giving her a once over. Her dress is richly patterned, a myriad of black, white and red. The belt bears a familiar double C logo.

“Wow, Kathleen, look at you. Chanel, huh? Oh, wait…,” he stops himself, leaning forward to take a better look at the details of the dress. He clicks his tongue, standing straight. “Nooope, I misspoke. Chanel doesn’t bleed. Not a bad knock-off, though,” he says with a brief downturn of his lips, shrugging. Immediately, all eyes fall on Kathleen. There are a couple of stifled giggles and some childish oohh's . The man to her left, seeming eager to play along with Homelander’s little game of Mean Girls, readily chimes in, “Busted.” “I’d be quiet if I were you, Chuck,” Homelander says, rounding on the man so sharply, his laughter falls immediately silent. The shock on his face is understandable. He doesn't work for Vought. Homelander has no right to know his name.  “I can smell the red paint on the bottom of those misshapen Johnston & Murphy’s you’re trying to pass off as Louis Vuitton. Now that’s embarrassing.” This time, no one’s laughing. There’s no mirth left in Homelander’s voice, and they've all finally realized it. His gaze is drifting from one potential prey to the next, his mouth set in an unyielding line. He lifts his brows, waiting for them to continue their jeering. “What? No one has anything to say to that? How about you, Jason?” He asks, startling one of the other men. “Why don’t we talk about those fucking ugly veneers of yours? I mean, god damn . I’ve never seen a more square smile in my life. It’s like staring at white slatwall every time you open your mouth.” Homelander begins to laugh. The sound of it is thorned, vicious to behold. “Aww, c’mon, don’t be so fucking sensitive . You wanted to have a laugh at my girl, right? Let’s laugh, then,” he says, lifting a gloved hand to snap his fingers impatiently, demanding, “Laugh!” Like a bark from an obedient dog, a single man amidst the group forces a stilted laugh.

Homelander hones in on him with the precision of a heat seeking missile, dropping his hand. Deadpan, he asks, “Something funny, Jim?��

Jim audibly gulps. “Y-you said-”

"Y'see, that's your problem. You're all just a bunch of fucking sheep, so desperate to be seen as somebody, you end up being no one at all. If you put half the effort you put into kissing ass into a personality, you might be a fraction as interesting as she is," he says, gesturing to you with the hand he doesn't have holding you close. "But instead you prop yourselves up on all this..." Homelander spins his hand loosely through the air before sighing, "Bullshit. It's boring. You're all so fucking boring and miserable with yourselves. You reek of it," he says, lip twitching in a near snarl. "Go. Get the fuck out of my tower,” he rumbles, voice set low. “All of you. Before I throw you off the balcony myself.” There's a pregnant pause before Homelander snaps, "Now!" Like roaches, all of them scatter. Homelander watches them with a sneer. He would have preferred literally tearing them apart, but it's neither the time nor the place.

"Holy shit," you whisper.

Homelander hums quietly, turning to look down at you. Before he can say a word, you grab hold of the back of his neck and kiss him senseless. He grins against your lips, turning to pull you properly into his arms. His ego swells immediately, the kiss speaking volumes. You're pleased. Pleased with him. He greedily soaks up the feeling of your body against his, lips moving against yours, eager to chase away the salty smell of your tears with something a little more salacious.

The two of you break apart before the kiss becomes any more scandalous than it already is, the buzz of the crowd around you dulled by the fervency pulsing between your bodies. "That was... the hottest thing anyone has ever done for me," you whisper, your heart beating heavily in your chest. "Hottest thing so far ,” he says, smiling wolfishly. He gives your plush hips a squeeze, licking his lips. ”Because this dress on your body has been driving me wild . All. Night. Long," he says, punctuating each word with a kiss. “And I cannot wait to tear it off you.” You bite your lip, inhaling a sharp, flustered little breath. "Can we get out of here yet?"

"You're damn right we can," he says, kissing you again.

Homelander slips away from the venue without an ounce of fanfare, half because you’re so eager to be home, and half because he knows Stan Edgar will be pissed that he took off without shaking the hand of every single political figure the man wants a finger in the pie of.

Fuck Stan Edgar, and especially fuck every one of the brownnosing nobodies invited to that sycophantic cesspit.

The only person in the world he cares about right now is you. ~~~ He wasn’t kidding about the dress. The second he has you back in his room, he’s pushing it off your shoulders, trailing kisses from your neck to your chest. He drags the fabric down until it’s pooling around your waist. You gasp so sweetly in his ear when he snaps your bra apart in a single tug, leaving your upper half bare. 

Your breasts hang heavy and flawless, soft in his gloved hands as he fondles them. “Love your tits,” he says, sucking your nipple into his mouth, coaxing it with his tongue until it’s hard, and you’re squirming in his arms, panting and pulling at his hair. He comes off of it with a wet pop. He cups your ass in both hands, grinds against your thigh so that you can feel how hard he is. “You’re so fucking soft. Wanna fuck ‘em, wanna fuck your tits.”

Those idiots at the gala had no goddamn clue what they were talking about. They were jealous of you, jealous knowing that it wouldn’t be any of their sorry asses he was going to worship inside and out tonight. They wanted to be you, or they wanted to be him, and they were stained an ugly green in their envy. He should have punched their hearts clean out of their chests for making you feel anything less than perfect. 

You–the divine creature you are–nod your assent, breathless and flushed. You’re staring up at him with reverence that runs deeper than the insipid glee he sees in the hoards of livestock he tends to every day: the American populace. You aren’t just awestruck by him, you love him. He wants to devour you for it.

“Okay,” you say, eager and sweet. He lets you take a step back from him. “Do it. I want you to.”

Homelander watches you drop down onto the bed, intently tracks every bounce of your body. He steps towards you, and takes in the sight of you while you work on unbuckling his pants. He touches your hair, cups your cheek. He likes the way your skin looks against the crimson of his gloves, wants to see you stripped down bare and ruined by your hero, your god. Tipping his head back, he stares up at the mirrored ceiling above his bed, lets out a soft groan at the sight of you both.

The suit is carved into the shape of an adonis, rippling muscles that jut and curve. It creates the illusion of the body people expect from a man who can bend steel with his bare hands. It’s everything he should be. He sucks in a sharp breath when you free his cock, but he stops you when you go to push his pants down, grabbing hold of your wrists. “Not yet. Leave ‘em,” he says, distracting you by bringing your hands to your chest. 

“Hold ‘em up for me, alright? That’s it, there you go, just like that,” he says, licking his lips. He takes hold of his cock, and takes a step closer, nudging the leaking head of it under your breasts. There’s not enough slip to be comfortable for either of you, so he leans over to the bedside table and pops open the drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube. With a brief flash from his laser vision, he warms the bottle.

“Lean your head back,” he says, and you do. You look like a work of art, your breasts heavy in your hands, spilling between your fingers where you’re holding them up, pressed together nice and tight. He drizzles the warm lube all across your chest, watches with perverse hunger as it rolls down the slopes of your body. Admittedly, he goes a little overboard, taken in by the image it paints.

“Too much,” you say, but he gives the bottle an additional cheeky little squeeze anyways.

“Can’t help it,” he says, tossing the bottle back into the drawer. “Y’look like a goddamn porn star.”

He can feel the heat of your flush. Somehow, you look demure, even as you sit naked from the waist up, holding your breasts for him to fuck. “Will you fuck me like one?” You ask, and Christ, he feels your words like punches to the gut.

“Is that what you want?” He puts his hands on yours, and slips his cock between your slick breasts, rocking his hips slowly. They feel unreal, enveloping him, impossibly supple and warm. “Want me to fuck you like the whole world’s watching?”

Your blush deepens, crawls all the way down from your cheeks to your chest, where he can feel the heat of it all around his cock. Holding his gaze, you nod, too flustered to respond verbally, which only drives him wilder.

All the while, he can smell your building arousal. The wetter you get, the more his head spins, focusing on the nuances of it: the damp smell of those pretty silky panties he bought you, the way you’re subtly rocking your hips like he won’t notice, seeking any friction at all to feed your own mounting desire.

He’ll have to resist ripping those panties off you. He wants to keep them as a trophy. The smooth slip of your breasts is sweeter than words, but as he thrusts faster, he aches for more. More tension, more friction, more everything. Homelander groans roughly, and pushes you down onto the bed sharply enough that you yelp, falling back harmlessly onto the plush bedding. He wastes no time in tearing the dress from your body, to which you make a noise of protest.

“But–you got that for me, I-” “I’ll get you another,” he dismisses. “I’ll get you ten of them, twenty. You’ll have everything. You understand me?” He drags his hands down your sides, hooks his fingers on the hips of your panties to slide them off. Those? Those he tucks into his pocket. “You’ll have everything.” He dips his hand between your legs, gloves slick with residual lube, and rubs your wet entrance with the leather clad tip of his middle finger. He pushes it in deep.

“I already do,” you gasp, reaching for him. He leans over you, lets you take hold of his hair, his cheek, obliges you when you pull him in to kiss. His hunger is barely contained, leaving him in sharp little nips to your bottom lip, and the ravenous press of his tongue into your mouth. He slips another finger into you, crooks them wickedly as he rocks them in and out, turning your voice thin and breathy. “You are everything to me.”

“Keep talking,” Homelander tells you, drawing out of your hold. He kneels at the edge of the bed and hikes your legs up over his shoulders, mindful of his pauldrons. He never stops pumping his fingers, keeps his pace steady while he leans in and sucks your clit between his lips. You jerk up, but you’re powerless against his hold. 

“You’re so good to me,” you breathe, tangling your fingers in his hair. He’s never fingered you with his gloves on before, but you’re certainly not complaining. You’re moving with him now, pushing into every thrust, moaning. “You’re so beautiful. O-oh, god, I could watch you forever.” Homelander’s gaze flickers up. He realizes you’re not looking at him, but at the mirror above you. He smirks, nuzzling in against you, enjoying that you’re watching him ruin you. You used to hide from that mirror, stay under the covers as much as you could. Now look at you, splayed out beneath it, enraptured by the vision of him swallowing you down. He preens with your words, shakes his head against you. Drags his tongue through the wet mess and fucks you deeper, firmer. He keeps going until your litany of praise and prayer falls off into sharp gasps and wordless euphoria.

He can taste your orgasm when it hits, smell it in the chemistry of your body. Your clit throbs wildly against his tongue, and he sucks it greedily. He doesn’t stop until you’re nearly sobbing from whe overwhelm of sensation, pushing him back with frail, exquisitely delicate efforts. He could hold you down if he wanted to, it would be easy to wring another bursting climax from you, but he relents.

This time.

 Standing up, Homelander drags his gloved hand over his mouth, wiping away the majority of the mess. He unzips both gloves, and tosses them to the side. He wants to feel what he’s about to do next.

You look heavenly, sprawled out loose-limbed and spent, but there is such fire in your eyes when he meets your gaze. “I didn’t forget,” you say, to which he quirks a brow. “Like a pornstar,” you remind him, and he grins.

Effortlessly, Homelander flips you onto your stomach. He loves the way you giggle when he manhandles you, moving you as though you weigh nothing at all. To him, you don’t. You’re light as a feather, and he uses that to his every advantage. He lifts you up onto your knees, brings you right to the edge of the bed, and presses in close behind you. He grabs two helping handfuls of your ass, kneads it while he grinds his cock along the line of it. He gives an appreciative little slap.

You moan, resting your head atop your folded arms. Despite your release, there is neediness etched into your every movement: the anticipation in how you spread your legs, impatiently rocking back into his hands, your nails clawing at the bedding. He’s more aware of your body than you ever will be. He drags it out a while longer, finds your clit with the head of his cock and grinds against it. 

“Stop teasing me,” you whine, trying to push back against him, but he holds you easily in place. He licks his lips, his own cock achingly hard. “Tell me then, sweetheart,” he says, his voice reduced to a low rasp. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to fuck me,” you say without hesitation, twisting your grip in the bedding.

“Specifics,” he pushes, his ego nearly as demanding as his cock.

“Put your cock inside me and pound me until your name is the only one I know,” you say, voice wrung tight and impatient. “Please, please, I want you in me. I need to feel you. You make me feel so good , please–”

Fuck, your voice drives him insane. He’s maddened by the eagerness with which you appeal to him, the sincerity in it even when he’s edging you, toying with you, riling you up to see if you’ll crack, to see if you’ll lose this perfect sweetness in the way you profess your love and your need, but you never do. He aches for it, he never wants to stop digging it out of you.

Your string of adulation is cut short when he finally lines himself up and pulls you back onto his cock, wringing a keening moan from you, a noise of relief and pleasure and agony all at once. He’s only barely breached you with the head of his cock. It isn’t nearly enough to satisfy you. You want more. You want all of him. You want to be fucked by Homelander’s fat cock.

Tipping his head back, he stares up at himself, dressed still in red, white and blue while you’re stripped naked, wearing worship and vulnerability more beautifully than he’s ever seen it. He grabs hold of your hips and steadies you, sinks you back onto his cock in one smooth pull. You make a noise that goes straight to the heat at the core of him, feeding it like kindling to the flames.

“Look at you,” he moans, watching both of your reflections. He alternates between the curves of your body, and meeting his own eye. “So fucking perfect .”

Sliding his hands up your sides, he drops his head to kiss a trail up your spine. He cups your breasts, fondles your nipples with his thumbs. They feel so much better in his bare hands, soft and still slightly slick. He gives a shuddering moan and picks up a steady pace, kneading them against your chest while he starts to fuck you in earnest. 

You asked him to make you forget everything but his name. That’s exactly his intent as he pounds into you. Holding you steady against the sharp slap of his hips, he’s moving so relentlessly that you can’t get in enough air to string together any of those pretty words. He doesn’t care anymore, the gasps and half-sobs of pleasure each thrust knocks out of you are music to his ears. He’s already walking the wire’s edge, so hard and sensitive that it almost hurts. Dropping one hand from your chest, he takes those slick fingers and presses the middle to your clit, cradling your belly against his arm, sinking again and again into the sweet, wet softness of you, wanting only to ever be closer, deeper. He moans when the contact makes your pussy tighten up. He barely has to move his finger when he’s fucking you fast and hard enough to jostle you against it. You come again, and this time, you pull him over the edge with you.

Homelander slams in deep, practically growling against you as load after load spills into you in wet pumps. He comes so hard his vision tunnels for a split second. It takes him a full minute to recover, to feel as though his soul has tethered itself back to his body.

Carefully, suspecting you will be tender, he withdraws from you, gentle in the way he helps you sink back down onto the bed. He lets out a long, slow exhale. Christ.

While he had expected you to immediately melt into a pile of goo on the bed, you surprise him by sitting up, adjusting until you’re sitting in front of him. He begins to usher you back, get you comfortable down on the pillows, but as weak and lovely as you are, you refuse it. “Let me undress you now,” you say, unbuttoning the lapel of his suit top. Reflexively, he stops you, hand exceedingly delicate on your wrist.

“Yeah,” he says, still coming down from the high. With it, those complicated feelings from earlier come bubbling back to the surface. “Yeah, in a minute. Lay down.”

Still, you do not.

“You love my body so well,” you say, tone supplicating. He nearly flinches, a part of him hating that you know him well enough to know to speak so tenderly in this moment. “Let me love yours, too. Please.”

Disarmed, Homelander slowly drops his hands to his sides. With a kind smile, you unfasten his top, working it off of his shoulders until it falls to the ground. Up on your knees, you rest your hands on his shoulders, and he begins his hands to your waist. He watches the top of your head as you kiss the center of his chest, then the left side, then the right. You pepper these saccharine touches all over his torso, murmuring sweet nothings against his skin all the while.

Eventually, without his permission, his vision begins to blur. He blinks it back stubbornly, caught off guard by the sudden threat of tears. Why is this happening? He’s happy.

You work his pants off as well, sweeping your hands down his slender thighs. They’re nothing like the carved musculature of his suit. He pets your hair, his other hand sliding to the back of your neck as you kiss your way back up to his chest. Your hands glide down his shoulders, his arms, and you squeeze. He flexes subconsciously, though it does little to make up for the bulk missing from his suit. His heart falls into his stomach when you meet his gaze, and he sees your expression falter.

“I’m fine,” he says reflexively.

“I know,” you say, ever so persistently gentle. “I love you so much. Every part of you–” you say, tracing your hands down his sides, to the sharp jut of his hips. “–is so unbelievably beautiful. Sometimes I can’t believe that it’s mine,” you say wistfully, leaning in to kiss his throat, his jaw.

Closing his eyes, Homelander wraps his arms around you, cradling your head in the crook of his neck. “I love you,” he echoes, voice little more than a low rasp. You coax him under the blankets with you, your body a relief to sink in against. You wrap your arms around his waist, and he tucks your head in under his chin, your legs easily tangling together. There is an ease in the way your bodies slot against one another, as if they were always meant to.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“What for?” He asks, absently stroking your hair.

“Everything. For defending me. For loving me. For seeing me. Just… For all of it. Thank you,” you say, squeezing him as tight as you can. Somehow, despite the disparity in your strength, it’s the most securely held he’s ever felt.

Homelander is rendered speechless by it. He squeezes you in turn, nuzzling in against the top of your head. He feels warm and heavy all over, lost to the steady beat of your heart. Your heart, this precious, bleeding thing that you’ve given him so wholly and freely. He would think it foolish if he was not so painfully aware that you, too, hold his heart in your hands. It is a mangled, ugly thing, battered and discolored from years of misuse, but it is yours nonetheless.

Now more than ever, he thinks that it’s never been safer.

[jae-bummer]

It's Only Lunch

Request: I just binged through My Idol Season 1&2 within a day and I’m in love with the way you write!! Then I saw your requests are open and I was even happier, cause I’m in desperate need of some idol!DK x nonidol!reader fluff :( I don’t have anything specific in mind you can do whatever you want, it can be angsty too if you want, just please give him a happy ending. There’s just not enough DK on this app in my opinion :( I hope you’re doing good and have a great day and if you ever actually write this then tysm!! 🩷🩵

Pairing: Seventeen DK x Reader

Genre: Fluff

.

"Hey, Y/N."

Looking up from your desk and towards the door of your office, you smiled. "DK, what brings you here?"

As soon as his name left your lips, you could see a bashful expression cross his face. Glancing down to his shoes before looking back up to you, he offered a tentative smile. "I just happened to be in the building and thought maybe you'd like to grab lunch with me?"

Blinking back in surprise, you cleared your throat. Technically, you and Dokyeom were coworkers, he an idol (obviously) and you working in the lower levels of management at Hybe. You had been part of the production crew for many a Seventeen project, so you had grown familiar with the guys over the years.

DK, more often than not, was the member that seemed to naturally gravitate toward you. When ordering lunch, passing out water, or resting on a break, he seemed to subconsciously seek you out. His shyness was adorable your first few run-ins, but once you realized he may have had a crush, you were already in far too deep yourself.

"I brought my lunch today," you managed, the words tasting sour in your mouth. "I was hoping I could take it at my desk to work through some things I'm behind on."

It wasn't a lie. You did need to catch up, but you also couldn't admit that hanging out privately with DK scared the crap out of you. He was gorgeous, side-splitting levels of funny, and completely unattainable. You knew if you spent more time around him, it wouldn't be long until you caught feelings.

"Oh," he chirped, beginning to nod. "Yeah, of course, I understand."

"Maybe next time though?" you asked, desperate to see that smile light up his face again.

"Of course," he hummed, giving you what you hoped for, but not nearly as genuine. "I'll stop by again when I'm back in the building."

And that's how the new routine began. At least once a week DK would show up in your doorway and you would think of a new and creative excuse not to fall in love with him.

Nearly a month after his original visit, you were typing out a relatively important email when your favorite nuisance showed up.

"Y/N," he drawled, leaning against the door frame. "I think I know your answer, but I'm here anyway."

You smiled sheepishly, ducking your head in an attempt to cool the heat scorching across your neck. You knew he would likely catch on to your MO, but you hadn't realized how embarrassing being confronted would be. "I'm sorry, DK. Things are so busy with your upcoming promotions and-"

"Can I at least grab your lunch for you from the common area?" he asked, tilting his head. "It'll save you a few steps."

"Sure," you nodded. He was incredibly sweet, which made it suck even more. "It's in the purple bento box."

"You got it!" he smiled, giving a quick spin before launching down the hallway.

You really did need to suck it up and either tell him to quit coming by or accept his advances. Just because you were a coward didn't mean that he needed to suffer. You were better not being perceived by anyone at his level of attractiveness. It would only be a matter of time before you somehow did something mortifying and turned him off forever.

After plugging away at the email for a few more minutes, you furrowed your brow and looked toward the hall. Surely, he should have found your food.

Just as you were about to hit send and head out his way, he appeared again. Holding your bento, his face was twisted in confusion. "This is yours, right?"

"Yeah," you said slowly. "Why?"

"Well," he sighed. "I looked for it everywhere in the fridge but couldn't find it. I moved everything around and was about to give up when I noticed it out of the corner of my eye. It was sitting in the communal sink, empty."

"Empty?" you muttered, standing. Crossing the room toward him, you took the lunch box from his hands. Sure enough, there was not a trace left of the food you had packed that morning. "I bring the same box every day. Who would eat out of it?"

"Did someone new start?" he asked, tilting his head. "Someone could have done it by mistake?"

"I guess," you sighed, dropping it on your desk. "I guess I can order in..."

"Why don't you let me go grab something?" he asked. "We can eat together in your office, so you don't even have to step away."

The hopeful look in his eyes crushed what little self-preservation you had left. This option really provided no wiggle room for an excuse. "I don't want to make you go to all that trouble..."

"No trouble at all!" he smiled, already turning away from you.

"Wait," you sighed, teetering on the line that you had drawn for yourself. "Let me send this email and I'll come with you."

"You will?" he gasped, but immediately schooled his features. "I mean, sounds good."

Mentally preparing yourself to rip off the Band-Aid, you may have spent a bit longer on the email than you had intended. It was difficult to think clearly with DK wandering around your space, peering at every framed picture and book you had haphazardly stacked around.

"Ready?" you asked, after reading through what you had written for probably the thirtieth time. At this point, you would just hit send and hope for the best.

"Born ready," he smiled, his eyes disappearing into crescents. "There's this really cute noodle place right down the street. I was thinking we could go there?"

Your brain fished around in its recesses for the restaurant he was talking about. If you could recall correctly, it was a notorious spot for couples. The thought made you swallow, hard. "Sure."

"Perfect," he hummed. "Madam?"

Offering his elbow to you, you hesitated before taking it. So, this was really happening. You were going to break down and go on a not-date with Dokyeom. He had labeled it as just "grabbing lunch," but why did you feel like it was so much more?

As you would realize later, it was because if you gave an inch, Dokyeom would take a mile. It wasn't long into your walk before he started complaining about it being sweltering outside. The weather was only 24°C, so it was hardly balmy. After peeling off his jacket, he quickly switched up to holding your hand.

Glancing down in surprise to see his long fingers intertwined with yours, you looked back up to him, wide-eyed.

"Is this okay?" he asked cheerfully.

You gave a silent nod before fixing your eyes in front of you again. You were so screwed.

.

Against your better judgement, lunch with DK was a blast. Being around him was so effortless. As you talked over jajangmyeon, it was easy to open up and show sides of yourself that you only reserved for those closest to you. You didn't realize you were even doing it until after you already had, making you go into an overthinking spiral of whether or not you were sharing too much.

In the end, it didn't really matter because Dokyeom seemed to like it that way.

When he returned you to your office, he gave you a long hug before insisting on coming by again soon. After everything, you sat behind your desk, a bit numb in the aftereffects of all things DK.

He hadn't asked for your number and aside from holding your hand, he really hadn't made any advances. His body language was overwhelmingly flirty, but you weren't sure if that's just how he was naturally or not.

"Accept it for what it is," you muttered to yourself, shaking off the cobwebs in your brain. Even if things didn't cross over into "more than friends" territory like your heart was already considering, just having him as a close friend would be fulfilling enough.

No matter how many times you told yourself that DK was just displaying normal, friendly behavior, it was all thrown out of the window when he showed up again the next week.

Carrying a bouquet of what looked to be a mix of wildflowers, he strode up to your desk and sat on the edge. "Now, we've made remarkable progress last week when you had no other options but to have lunch with me. Can we defy the universe and have it happen again?"

You let out a surprised snort. "Maybe if you gave me an idea of when you were coming, I'd be more prepared to leave the office."

"Where's the fun in that?" he asked. "These are for you by the way."

"I would have been only a little heartbroken if you came into my office with flowers that were not for me," you smiled, taking them from his hands.

"So, are you setting me up for a gentle letdown?" he asked, quirking a brow. "Or are you wanting to try the new burger place a block down?"

"I really-"

"Need to finish up this project, so I'm working at my desk," he finished with a soft smile.

"But this time, I really do mean it," you laughed.

"You didn't before?!" he gasped.

Shit. You didn't want to let that little factoid slip. See, this is what happened when you let your guard down around him.

"I may or may not have been avoiding your lunch invitation for a few weeks," you winced. "But you're intimidating!"

"On what planet?!"

"Earth!" you groaned, hiding behind your fingers.

DK sighed before sliding off of your desk and facing you. "I'll forgive you if you come eat with me."

"Well, that's not fair," you pouted.

"Fine," he harrumphed. "I'll just have to take it into my own hands like last time."

"Like last time?" you asked, narrowing your eyes at him.

Covering his mouth with his hand, DK stood as still as a statue.

"You know," you grumbled, crossing your arms. "You're not going to get out of this by hoping I forget about you because you're not moving."

"It would work if you were a t-rex," he muttered, dropping his arms to rest at his side.

"Spill it, Seokmin," you sighed.

"I accidentally ate your lunch last week," he said quickly.

"I'm sorry," you laughed. "You what?"

"When I was grabbing your bento out of the fridge, I had a lightbulb moment," he whined. "I thought if you didn't have your food, you'd be forced to eat with me...so I just...inhaled it. You make excellent bibimbap by the way."

You didn't know if you wanted to laugh or smack him. "You set me up!"

"Because you were avoiding me!" he exclaimed, sending an accusatory finger your way. "You said it yourself!"

"Because you're intimidating!" you repeated.

"How?! How am I intimidating and why is this news to me?!"

"You're incredibly dreamy!" you blurted. "And I was scared that I was going to fall for you, alright?"

DK took a small step back as if you had actually chose to smack him. He kept quiet as his wide eyes blinked at you.

"Please say something," you whispered, pinching the bridge of your nose.

At a painfully slow rate, a smile spread across his lips. "You think I'm dreamy?"

Plopping into your rolling chair, you leaned against your desk, and hid in the fortress of your arms. It was not physically or mentally possible for you to be more horrified.

"Y/N!" DK cooed, immediately stepping around to where you were sitting. Wrapping his arms around your shoulders, he rested his chin on your head. "That is the cutest thing I have ever heard."

"I hate it," you muttered into your sleeves.

"I don't," he chuckled. "And if you haven't figured it out by now, I think you're pretty dreamy too."

"Really?' you squeaked.

"You think I offer to buy lunch and flowers for Mingyu once a week?" he asked. Nuzzling his face into your hair, he laughed again. "I guess we were both hiding something from each other."

"I can't believe you ate twice just to get me to go out with you," you muttered, finally sitting up.

"You're worth the stomachache I had afterwards," he smiled. "I was scared that if I tried to kiss you, the nerves would make my stomach pop."

"Please tell me you didn't eat my lunch again today?" you joked. DK's lips fell into a flat line as he looked away from you. "You didn't!"

"I was prepared to do whatever I had to do!" he gasped. "Now are you coming with me to lunch or not?!"

"Yes," you laughed, shaking your head. "I absolutely will."

[rascalthehamster]

Can I request Yandere glamrock Freddy and Monty x Gregory's older sister please

Like the reader was looking for her brother and broke in and they bump into them and they fall for the reader

Yandere Freddy and Monty x Greg’s Older Sis

You never liked this place. The smell of stale pizza and over priced soda just gave you a headache, and all the screaming children were just the cherry on top.

Your brother, however, loved it. He wanted to be here forever, and that’s why you were currently crawling around in a vent looking for him.

You were given responsibility to make sure he came home safely and when it came close to closing time he was nowhere to be found. You managed to escape the security bots but at the cost of crawling your way through a cramp dusty vent.

When you got to the end of the vent you had to kick the grate off of its hinges, causing a loud sound to echo in the empty hall outside. You cringed at the sound, peaking your head out to find no security bots.

You jumped down, spotting a shoe that you knew belonged to Gregory. You picked it up and followed your only clue as to where he may be, an open security door.

You peered around every corner, always on edge. You gripped Gregory’s shoe like it was your only connection to him. A lifeline that you couldn't afford to lose. The Pizza Plex was surprisingly eerie at night. All of the lights were on yet it was completely empty, the only sound that could be heard was a faint song in the distance and the wheels of robots on the ground.

You walked around long enough to reach the main stage. It was lit up with blinding lights, and giant holograms of the infamous animatronics. They creeped you out the most. They’re lifelike movements and personalities always put you on edge.

The lights had distracted you just long enough for a security bot to find you, setting off the alarm.

You ran, not sure where to. You thought if you got as far away as possible from where you originally got caught then you’d be fine.

It was a great plan, you thought, a fool-proof one even. However you forgot to actually look where you were running to. You were too worried about what would’ve appeared behind you that you completely forgot about in front of you.

You slammed your head against something hard. A loud clang was followed by you falling on the floor. You looked up to see a giant animatronic bear standing in front of you.

“Hello!” It’s ears wiggled as it waved its hand at you. You were stuck, frozen in place on the sticky, gross floor. Your head throbbing from the recent collision and ass sore from slamming on the ground.

Just run, you thought to yourself. If you go now you might still be able to get out of here with your life. Why were you so scared of some stupid robot. It wasn't even a real bear. It had the long claws and sharp teeth of one but its eyes stared into yours, they were all too lifelike. The bright blue led lights illuminated your face. You didn't trust it, even if you could feel no aggression coming from it.

It got down on one of its knees, meeting you at your level. “Your nose is bleeding.” You wiped your hand under your nose, confirming that you were in fact having a nose bleed. “Come on, let’s go to the infirmary and patch you up.” He put out his hand, urging you to grab it.

You instinctively swatted at it and scrambled away. You could feel the blood trickle down from your nose, meeting your lips that also began to bruise. You got a few feet away from it then realized that your hand was absent of a shoe. You turned around to spot that the robot was holding it, placing it inside of its stomach for later use.

"Hey give that back." You started to run to it but the back of your shirt was grabbed, your momentum pulling you back as you were lifted up.

"Well, what do we have here?" A voice said behind you. You thrashed around, not wanting to find out what it was coming from. "Calm down will ya?" It shook you around, still gripping onto your shirt.

The robot bear approached you, causing you to panic even more. "Let me go!" You shouted as you could feel your heart beating in your ears.

"Not until you calm down." Said the voice from behind. Your body began to tire from thrashing so much. Your adrenaline running dry. You could feel yourself succumb to defeat.

You craned your neck to look behind you, seeing that it was the scariest animatronic of them all, and this one you knew by name. It had the worst history of them all and was the most violent. You froze once again, it's eyes catching yours. It gave a toothy grin.

"Come on Monty, we have to take her to the infirmary."

"What because of some nosebleed?"

"Yes, it's the rules."

"What if I don't want to follow the rules, goody two shoes, what if I take her to my room for the rest of the night?" Said the alligator. You could feel yourself get light headed as the conversation continued. You could feel yourself becoming nauseas and tired. Your body couldn't fight anymore. Your throat was dry and your stomach was empty. You were at the mercy of these two animatronics that you despised.

And to top it all off, you failed to find your brother. You couldn't even hold onto his shoe which was currently inside of the orange bear in front of you.

They continued talking between each other. You didn’t care to listen. Your feet dangled as Montgomery continued to hold you.

“Okay fine, we’ll do a check up.”

“Finally, now let me see her-“

“Nuh huh Freddy, I’m holding her.” He scooped you up and held you in a bridal position as the bear just sighed and started his way towards the infirmary. Your nose had stop bleeding but the blood had stained your shirt. The taste of copper on your tongue.

You had just begun to accept your fate when you heard the gator say “I can’t believe that there’s two runts who managed to sneak past security and stay over night.”

“We don’t know where the other is but maybe she does.” Freddy responded with, turning around and flashing a smile at you. “But for now we’ll take care of the one that we found.”

[lvrhughes]

You Didn't Deserve That | T. Zegras

pairing: Trevor Zegras x gn!reader (as far as i can remember)

word count: 1.1k

this was requested!

not my gif!

Dating a famous hockey player had its perks, and its downfalls. Such as hate, so much of it. New comments everyday, some new post saying you weren’t good enough for him, if you thought it couldn’t get worse, it did. To the point of ruining your relationship. 

“We’re done, Trevor.” 

“What?” he was clearly dazed, having just gotten back from practice. 

“We’re done. I need to leave.” 

“What? No, what’s going on?” 

He didn’t get much of an argument when you slipped around him and bolted out the door, but he could say he tried. Which leads to your meeting him again, literally running into him. 

You were late for your first day of a new job, you knew Trevor played for the ducks (how could you not?) but this job was too good to pass up, so you took it in hopes of not focusing on him.

���Y/n?” The shock was clearly evident in his voice.

“Hey, Trev.” 

“What are you doing here?” you finally glanced down at his attire, all his gear on, clearly headed to the ice.

“I uh- got a job here.” it was awkward to admit you’d be working with the man whose heart you broke for apparently no reason. 

“Oh congrats.” he did not sound at all enthusiastic, “Well, we should go for a drink tonight and catch up, you know I’ve missed you.” 

“Oh, um sure. I’m off at seven.”

“Great, see you then, I’ll pick you up here.” he nodded, walking away before you could say anything else. 

You froze for a minute, letting your mind settle before remembering why you were running through the halls in the Honda Arena. 

“Shit.” you cursed under your breath. 

“Straight down the hall, first door on the right.” you heard yelling down the hall, Trevor's voice recognizable. 

“Thank you.” you yelled back, running in the directions he gave.

It was a great first day, your boss wasn’t mad you were late, knowing the struggle, admitting she’d done it on her first day too. The day flew by and if you could’ve stayed longer you would’ve, but you had drinks with Trevor. 

“Goodnight, Lindsay.” You yelled out the door, headed down the hallway again. 

“Hey” You jumped at the voice appearing beside you. Trevor, looking at you, a smirk across his face. “Sorry, did I scare you?” his tone teasing.

“Asshole.” you mumbled, shoving him towards the wall. 

“Hey, hey that’s not very nice.” 

“Well you scaring me wasn’t very nice!” you shot back, making him laugh. 

“It was an accident, I swear.” 

 It fell into a comfortable silence the rest of the way, the walk to his car, the drive to the bar. It wasn’t uncomfortable by any means but you  could feel he had words to say. It stayed like that until you two had a table, sipping on your newly acquired drinks.

“Why did you do it?” This question making you choke on your drink.

“What?”

“Why?”

“You’re staring off strong” you tried to joke, falling short when the look on his face didn’t falter from the serious stare he was giving. “Okay no jokes..”

You took a deep breath, chugging a bit of your drink, and planned out how your were going to go over this.

“I uh- fuck it’s stupid saying it aloud. It just got too much, everyday I’d find new hate and something new to hate about myself because of it. I thought that if I just left the hate would stop, it didn’t but it lessened so I just deleted everything. I know it was shitty but I couldn't take it anymore, people everyday telling me terrible things, making me believe horrible things about myself, people lying to me trying to get to you or with you. It was so hard and i love you Z, I do but I freaked out and I thought it was stupid so I didn’t come to you. You deal with it everyday and never did you do something this stupid.”

“Baby, oh you didn’t deserve that.” he cooed, his hand intertwining with yours. “And I’ve done plenty stupid, it was all just too much I get it baby, I do, but you should’ve come to me.” 

“I know but I felt so weak.” you groaned, if he knew one thing he knew you hated admitting anything. 

“You are not weak, you’re the strongest person I’ve ever known.” 

“I love you Z, I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay baby, we’re moving on, as long as you’re still mine now, yeah?”

“Of course, Trev.” 

His smile immediately grew on his face, a small sound of enthusiasm squeaked from his lips as he practically hopped the table to hug you. His arms wrapped tight against your waist, holding you against him.

“Trev,” you whispered into his hair, he hummed in reply, “Can we go home?” 

“Of course baby.” was all he said, picking you up, bringing you to his car. It was a short ride, but peaceful almost lulling you to sleep, seeing Jamie peek through the window when the two of you pulled up. 

“You’re together again!” he cheered when Trevor carried you in, head tucked into his neck.

“Shush man, they’re almost asleep!” Trevor hushed his roommate. 

“Opps” was all Jamie managed in response. 

Trevor carried you, as gently as he could, to his room. Laying you down on the bed, grabbing out some of his clothes for you to sleep in. 

“Baby,” he whispered, peppering you in kisses to wake you, “you’ve got to get changed, i know you hate sleeping in your clothes.” 

“I don’t want to move.” you groan, not moving, still laying in Trevor's bed. 

“I’ll help, come on baby, just a little cooperation please.” you hummed in reply, slowly standing. He was gentle, removing your clothes but keeping his eyes everywhere but on your partially exposed body. Even if he had seen it before, he was still as respectful as he could be. 

“You can lay back down baby, I’ll be right back, okay?”

You let a hum in reply, before letting the words hit you.

“Wait, don't go, come sleep.” you whined at him, putting grabby hands out towards his walking-away figure.

“I’ll be right back then i’ll come sleep.” 

You groan in reply, curling onto your side to wait for him. He was back in less then a minute, now wearing less clothes then he’d left in. 

“Where’d your clothes go?” he laughed at the question, sliding in bed with you, pulling you tight against him.

“I threw your clothes and mine in the laundry, you’ll have clean, warm clothes in the morning.”

“Oh my goodness, I love you.” 

“I love you too baby, now let’s sleep.”

You yawned in agreeance, nuzzling against him more, accepting the kisses he was peppering over you.  

[skyeeuphixia]

𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 // 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎

lip gallagher x northside OC (Daisy) summary: in which lip could never see himself falling for a girl from the northside 

part one of ?

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warnings: swearing, smoking word count: 3098

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Lip had no idea why a girl from the northside attended a shitty public school in the southside. And quite frankly, he couldn't care less. He had enough shit going on in his life, he didn't need to add thinking about some entitled priss onto that list.  She smiled constantly, and never seemed to get upset or let the intimidating southside area scare her. She was a privileged girl, anyone would assume so, and for that reason, Lip decided that he didn't like her. 

After all, "All northsiders are the same"

Lip had gone freshman and sophomore year without interacting with the girl once and so far, in junior year, he had maintained it. It wasn't like he was actively trying to ignore her. But he wasn't exactly displeased their paths had never met. All he knew of the girl was that she was from the northside and her name. Daisy. 

And he planned to keep it that way. Lip didn't care for people, his friends at school consisted of his brother Ian and Mandy Milkovich. He was too good for all the other incompetent assholes in their school, so not knowing the northside priss didn't drastically affect him and his day. 

That was until his plan got screwed over. 

⋆ ★

It wasn't a secret that Ian and Lip shared everything with each other, but there was one thing Ian didn't feel the need to mention. He and Daisy were friends. They don't know how it happened, but they were both late to their respective classes and had, quite literally, bumped into each other in the hall, which somehow resulted in a friendship. 

However, although they had been friends for quite some time now, Ian didn't actually know that much about her, she was quite a private person. 

Ian, Mandy and Lip were doing what they usually did at lunch, smoking in the boy's bathroom, laughing and spending the 30 minutes of learning free time they get together by chatting and not taking life seriously. 

"Hey Lip, do you think you could do me a favour?" Ian asks, after the laughter that occurred after a joke that Lip had cracked died down. 

"Depends what it is," The older boy replies, taking a long drag from his joint. 

"I have this friend in your year, she needs help with chemistry,"

"What does she need?"

"An A, she's got a C at the moment."

"Who is it?"

"Daisy Bennett," Ian replied almost hesitantly, he wasn't ignorant to the rumours and opinions people held of his friend, and he didn't know Mandy's or Lip's view on the girl, all he had heard was Mandy mention she liked the girl's pristine black combat boots, Mandy's being a size too small and covered in scuffs and mud. 

"Wait, Little Miss Priss? Why would you be friends with her?"

"Did she bribe you with her daddy's money?" Mandy piped in, smirking at the younger boy.

"No," Ian snapped back at them, "We just bumped into each other once and, I don't know we clicked, listen she's a nice girl and she needs some help with something, if you don't do it for her do it for me,"

Lip looked at his younger brother for a few moments, Ian never had that many friends, he got on with people, but he wouldn't call anyone, other than Lip and Mandy, his friends, so who knew what was so special about this girl. He was protective of his brother, and part of him just wanted to meet her so that he could make sure she wasn't going to hurt him. 

"Fine whatever, tell her to be at ours at 6, also whatever I normally charge, she pays double,"

"What why?" 

"She's from the northside Ian! I'm sure she could spare a few bucks to give to some southside lowlifes!"

Once Lip finishes speaking, the dull sound of the bell goes off, evident in its sound that it hasn't been fixed in years. The trio are quick to dispose of the evidence of them smoking before gathering their stuff and making their way out the bathroom, Ian helping Mandy down from the window still she was sitting on. Lip looked towards his brother one last time as he and Mandy walked away from the bathroom towards their respective classrooms, one thought on his mind.

What the hell am I getting myself into?

⋆ ★

After a long and gruelling day, where the same old boring teachers, taught the same boring shit for yet another year, it was nearly time for Daisy to be at the Gallaghers. One thing that Daisy's dad was keen to get into her at a young age was being punctual, she regularly arrived early for things, and was never more than 3 minutes late. So here she was, walking up the steps to the Gallagher steps at 5:59. 

Daisy was nervous about this study session, not just because she would be tutored by someone she had never met before, she had seen Lip around, but never actually spoken to him, she was also nervous because she had been told stories by Ian about his family and how crazy they can be. She both knew exactly and had no idea what to expect. 

She hesitated a moment before knocking on the door, rocking back and forth on her heels slightly, holding her laptop, textbook and notebook close to her chest.  

A few moments later, the door swings open, revealing a young, redheaded girl, who looked up at the older girl curiously. 

This must be Debbie

"Who are you?" She asked, looking at the girl almost matching the older girl's stance.

"Uh hey, I'm Daisy," Daisy replies, smiling at the shorter girl, "Is Lip in?"

"Yeah, why?" 

"Oh, he's helping me study," 

"Debbie who's at the door?" An older voice asks, coming up and standing behind the young Gallagher, this woman was a lot taller than her younger sister, she had on a grey striped top and had long brown hair that looked somewhere between half brushed and neatly put together. 

Fiona

"Who are you?" Fiona asked, her tone changing slightly, looking Daisy up and down taking in her appearance. Daisy clearly stuck out like a sore thumb in this neighbourhood, her clothes were neat and put together, with a preppy, private school uniform feel around them. Daisy could tell that Fiona was judging her, she really wanted to be wanted by the Gallaghers, especially the matriarch Fiona, because without her approval, she'd never be allowed near her friend Ian again.

"Hey, I'm Daisy,  Lip's helping me with Chemistry." 

"You're Ian's friend right?" Fiona said suspiciously, having heard the name Daisy thrown around by Ian occasionally, not remember much from what she heard, only that she was from the northside, but Fiona could guess that already. 

"Yeah, I am, is he in?" Daisy answered, watching as Fiona gently pushed Debbie back into the house.

"No, he's at ROTC, so you're close huh?" 

"Well- I guess, we don't have any classes together and he spends a lot of time with Lip and, oh what's her name," Dasiy takes a few seconds to think, "ah! Mandy Milkovich, but we do homework together in the library after school sometimes." 

"Too good for Lip and Mandy then?" Fiona accused, she wasn't intentionally trying to make the girl uncomfortable, but she, like most Southsiders, didn't take kindly to northsiders showing up around their area, to anyone else, a northsider befriending a Southsider might be considered 'Charity work', and if this preppy priss thought that Ian was going to be charity work, she had another thing coming. 

"Oh no, not at all, they actually seem pretty cool, I just assume I won't be welcome, people at school tend to not want me around," Daisy answered honestly, not even letting her smile falter.

At that moment, Fiona felt bad for the girl in front of her, in their short interaction, she seemed nice enough, Fiona had nothing to judge her for other than she was from the northside, and that wasn't a lot to go off of. But clearly, the others at school believed that was reason enough to completely isolate the girl. 

"Ok, ok," Fiona muttered, turning her body so she was facing the inside of the house, "Lip! Your friend's here to study!" She yelled into the house, surely making everyone in the house jump.  

After a few moments pass, the two girls hear the sound of heavy footsteps trudging down the stairs and towards them. Lip rounded the corner towards them, not looking particularly impressed, muttering something along the lines of 'she's not my friend' to Fiona. 

He inhaled slightly before acknowledging Daisy, "Hey, come on in." He sighs, not even giving her a moment to reply before making his way into the house ahead of her as if he was trying to get away from her and get her off his tail as quickly as possible.

Fiona stepped aside, allowing Daisy to step out from the cold Chicago air to the slightly less cold Gallagher house, clearly, the heating was either broken or they had it down really low because of the bills. 

Daisy quickly followed after Lip, who was already halfway up the stairs, not having time to acknowledge the others who were sitting on the living room couch. Daisy just managed to slip into the boy's bedroom after Lip, which was lucky on her part, because if she hadn't caught up as quickly as she did, Lip probably would have slammed the door in her face. 

Lip knocked a few stuff off his desk, making room for the two of them as Daisy stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, still hugging her stuff close to her body, as she took in her surrounding. Their room wasn't small by any means, if one kid was living in it, then this room would actually be quite big, the thing is by the number of beds, there were clearly three people living in this room, who Daisy assumed was Lip, Ian and their little brother Carl, giving off the illusion that the room was much smaller than it actually was. 

The room was messy as well, all the blankets were randomly bunched up on the beds, clothes were on the floor, and random papers were all over the desk under the cabin bed (which Dasiy assumed must be Lips due to the assortment of space posters and the generally 'smart kid' vibe said corner of the room gave off) but Lip was just carelessly shoving them into the already full drawer at the side of the desk. 

There was another thing that Daisy's dad had drilled into her at a young age, neatness, especially if there was a guest, even if the guest wasn't even going to see her room! It still had to be spotless with not even a hair band on the floor. She had also been told how to be a polite guest and a polite host, but all it had really taught her was she was supposed to respect others as a given, whereas any respect for her had to be earned. 

"Yo, just gonna stand there forever or do you actually wanna get shit done?" Lip asks, breaking Daisy's train of thought, making her realize that he was now sitting down at a 'clean' desk, staring at her expectantly. 

"Yeah, sorry," she apologised, taking a seat next to him and putting her stuff down in a neat pile on the desk.

Lip grabs her notebook and starts flicking through it, Daisy honestly couldn't tell if he was even paying attention to anything in there, "So what's the quiz on?"

"Uh Section C of the textbook," 

"When's the quiz?"

"Two days"

"What don't you get?" Lip asks boredly, now flicking through her textbook to section C, seeing what he considered pretty easy content. 

"Um, any of it?" Daisy says hesitantly, scratching the back of her neck slightly, dropping her gaze to the textbook when she notices the unimpressed look on Lip's face. 

"Seriously? This shit is so simple!" Lip almost laughed.

"Yeah well not all subjects come naturally, I'm sure I can get there if maybe it was explained a different way, but Mr Gilbert refuses to explain it any other way because 'if you can't do it my way, maybe you're just destined to fail'," Daisy defends. She wasn't a dumb student at all, she excelled in subjects like English Literature and History. But there were some subjects like maths and science that she just couldn't do naturally and needed extra help with, luckily her maths teacher offered that, Mr Gilbert, however, did not.

"Whatever let's just go from the beginning and work our way through." Lip sighs, picking up two pens, handing one to her, before reading out the first paragraph of the textbook. 

⋆ ★

The two sixteen-year-olds had been studying for about an hour, Lip giving Daisy a few practice questions and using the time to get his old, tattered maths textbook out to do some work himself. Turns out, doing work with someone else in the room, who was also focused was actually a good study method. 

"So," Lip said, deciding to spark a conversation with the other, his curiosity getting the better of him, "Daddy couldn't hire you your own private chemistry teacher?"

Daisy huffed in slight amusement, tapping her pen against her notebook as she tried to both focus on a conversation and figure out a particularly hard question that Lip had written, "Nope, he doesn't even know I'm failing,"

"Last time I check a C wasn't a fail, for someone who isn't good at chemistry naturally, it's decent" 

"Not good enough for him," Daisy sighed, "Anything below an A is a failure in his eyes," 

"Shitty dad huh?" Lip asks, finally looking over at her.

"I guess yeah, he just wants me to do well" She replied shortly not giving Lip much more to go off of. Lip was normally good at reading people, but Daisy was difficult. He could now tell that her politeness was genuine, which surprised him, and also that she wasn't just using this study session as a way to sleep with him. This also surprised him, because he had had offers from other girls to study who would happen to have 'left their wallet at home' but repay him with a hummer.  Daisy wanted to study, despite clearly not enjoying the subject.

"How come you go to a shitty southside school then?" Lip asks after a few moments. 

"Well my dad wanted me to go to some private school somewhere, didn't matter where he just wanted me to get the highest quality education, my grandma didn't want me too far away though, so she wanted me to go to a school in walking distance to her house, our school was the only one that was a 10-minute walk," Daisy answered. 

"Your grandma lives in the southside?"

"For someone who doesn't like northside people, you seem to ask a lot of questions," Daisy says, looking up and smiling, finding herself looking right into his eyes. They were very pretty, she couldn't deny that.  She wouldn't deny that "It's getting late, I should go." She sighed gathering her stuff.

"Yeah, uhh, tell me how the test goes." Lip says, standing up and walking out of the room with her, unintentionally walking her to the door.

"Oh, so you care how I do?" Daisy teased, smiling at him with a smile that made a strange feeling happen in Lip's chest, one he didn't quite understand. 

"I care, that my tutoring works, I could use the ego boost," Lip smirks. 

"Ahh of course." Daisy shakes her head, reaching the door with him, "Oh um here!" She says, reaching into the pocket of her jacket, and pulling out a fifty-dollar bill.

"Oh no it's fine," Lip brushes off without even thinking about it, "I only charge thirty anyway, that's way too much"

"I know, Ian told me you'd charge me extra, wasn't expecting you to deny the money though, but I'm serious take it,"

"Listen maybe I'd take the thirty but fifty is too much." 

Daisy rolled her eyes, and forced the note into his hand, "Thirty for the help, and twenty for a new maths textbook, yours looks like it will fall apart any moment," Daisy smiles, before rushing out of the house. Leaving Lip no room to argue.

⋆ ★

Lip didn't know when in the day Daisy's test was, but it was now lunch and he was yet to see her, not that he wanted to. He just wanted to know if he wasted an hour of his evening for nothing or not. 

He, Ian and Mandy were walking to their last classes of the day, all of their classes being in the same general direction, when Daisy appears from nowhere, tackling Lip into a giant bear hug, winding him for a split second. Ian and Mandy look at the pair wide-eyed, the girl's strange act also getting the attention of a few passing students. 

In complete shock, Lip didn't have the time to process what she was doing before she spoke, "You are amazing!" She celebrates, pulling away from and smiling brightly at Lip as he desperately tries to ignore the pounding in his chest. 

"I'm assuming this means you got a good score?" Lip asks, the trace of a smile on his face, trying not to give the wrong impression to Mandy and Ian, who were watching the interaction almost eagerly.

"I got a 91/100! Just scraped it! Honestly, Lip thank you so much!" Daisy said breathlessly, her bright smile refusing to leave her face. 

"Yeah uh, no problem," Lip chuckled slightly, the dull tone of the bell going off, indicating that class was about to start, "Um, I'll see you around?"

"Yeah, definitely," Daisy blushes, offering Lip one last thank you before turning away and walking towards her class, a slight bounce in her step.

Lip was so in his own thoughts, that he didn't notice he was watching fondly after her, thinking about the strange girl that, he had to admit, piqued his interest. 

"She's not too bad huh?" Ian smirked at his brother, breaking the older boy from his thoughts.

"Shut up," Lip scoffed, punching his brother as the trio started to walk to their classes again, not answering Ian out loud, but he couldn't even deny his own thoughts anymore; 

Not bad at all Ian, she really is something... something good

⋆ ★ (fin)

[rattlyglitch]

Terror Begins to Strike.

Silver swore that he had heard someone talking. He had come back with some students from Noble Bell College since he was far beyond tired. Malleus hadn't come back with him because the Noble Bell students said they would keep an eye on him. Silver didn't feel like they were doing a very good job at that though. He had walked out of the dorm room he shared with Malleus to see that no one was in sight anywhere in the common area. That was the reason Silver gave himself to put on some shoes and sneak out from the room carrying the bat plushie he had brought with him in tow.

The voice got louder as he left, leading to a room. Inside there was a fire burning and Rollo stood in front of it talking to himself. "Ridiculous. All of it. Magic, a blessing? A gift? FUN? Lies, all of them. Utter tripe spewed by complete fools. Otherwise, what am I doing this for…?" Silver didn't dare peak around the corner. He was worried though what was Rollo going to do? "Just planning a party" Silver spoke to himself trying to reassure himself. He felt like he was lying to himself though.

He knew deep down that he was but he couldn't just lose hope. "…But I won't dwell on it. The suffering will finally be over soon enough. The time has come. Like these flames, they will engulf everything." Silver ran as fast as he could. He needed to say something to someone. "And I shall right this sorry state of affairs. Ahhh, I can hardly wait-" Silver had yelled in surprise when he suddenly hit the ground falling onto the floor.

He was quick to stand up but felt a hand grab his arm. "I see you decided to sneak out of bed. Didn't the students that came back with you tell you to stay there?" Silver shook his head no. "N-no one was there. I got scared." Rollo sighed and shook his head. "I just will have to bring you along with me then. We can watch everyone fall together"

////////////

Malleus entered the lecture hall of Noble Bell College and patiently waited with his fellow peers. As much as Malleus agreed with Grim and wanted to leave and go sleep in the dorm the group was assigned one of the students had asked all visiting schools to assemble in the hall. The odd thing that happened suddenly was when the Bell of Solace rang out. Sebek was quick to point it out. "I have no doubts that it is" Riddle spoke. "But why would it be ringing now? I thought the bell only rang in the morning, noon, and night. The nightly bell has already rung. So why is it ringing this late?"

Malleus looked around waiting for someone to appear and greet the students. "Hm? Is there some sort of flame in the corner of the hall?" Malleus turned his gaze to the direction Azul was speaking of. Sure enough, there was something that indeed looked like a flame. Something was odd about it though. "Looks like a flower, actually," Idia said looking at the flower. Two students from the Royal Sword Academy wandered over to the flower and touched it. As soon as they did though the two students collapsed.

Several more students started collapsing around and as soon as they did the flowers immediately started to swarm the area. Malleus was a bit surprised when he started to feel something strange like he was worried. "What a sinister glow they have. It's enough to give me pause." Malleus felt confused by himself. "Is it possible? Am I frightened by these tiny blooms?" Malleus looked down in surprise when the flowers started to climb around his legs. He started to feel weaker as they continued to cover him.

Malleus felt he was just about to faint when suddenly someone began to cut through the flowers. He let out a relieved sigh when the sight of Sebek greeted him. "You came through for me Sebek." Sebek gave a nod. "Mere weeds have dared to harm you. It is my sworn duty to destroy them at all cost." Students continued to fire spells at the flowers left and right. Malleus noticed that even as they did, it caused the flowers to build up more. Professor Trein demanded everyone put away their magic pens and come over to him. "Do you know what these flowers are?" Riddle asked. Professor Trein nodded.

"Thir firey glow and ability to absorb magic tell me one thing. These must be firelotuses." Everyone seemed confused. "Firelotuses? But I've never heard of them are they common in this land?" Azul asked. Jamil shook his head no. "I would have known about them if there was anything to be told." Malleus looked at the group. "I can hardly blame you for not knowing about them. Even I didn't recall them immediately. They're plants that thrive on all types of magical energy including the magic mages possess. When they sense magic, they reach out their vines much like other plants reacting to the sun. They then grow roots and absorb the magic. They'll then continue to sap a mage's magical energy which helps them bloom. And once the mage's energy is gone the mage loses all of their magic permanently." Riddle looked at Malleus.

"This doesn't make sense though. If a plant this dangerous existed, surely we would have learned about it in school." Malleus shook his head no. "Firelotuses went extinct centuies ago. As I understand it people gathered together to eradicate the entire species due to how dangerous it was. They would only have been told as legends in any book you may have read." Sebek walked next to Malleus a smug smile on his face.

"It seems Malleus's knowledge knows no bounds." Epel spoke up seemingly more confused. "But why is an extinct plant even doing here and why is there so much of it?" Malleus looked towards the stairs. "That would be a question for him." Malleus looked up to Rollo who held a disappointed look on his face. "Hmph. So you're still standing. I suppose your wretched academy's reputation is deserved after all." Malleus crossed his arms and looked at Rollo.

The disappointment meant he felt much at the moment. "Was all of this you're doing? Flamme?" Rollo smirked as he looked down. "Indeed. What an astute observation considering that utter fools you are." Malleus could hear Sebek call up to Rollo. "Wh…what did you just call us?!" Rollo laughed a wider smile on his face. "I see you wish me to say it again? Utter fools. All of you. Oh, you can scarcely imagine how hard it was to contain my laughter as I watched you blithely indulge in your merrymaking, completely ignorant of all the firelotuses I was setting out."

Malleus was starting to get tired of the speech Rollo was making. When Azul had a come back though it only angered the council president. "Silence! YOU'RE the villain here! And what's more, you flaunted your magic and mesmerized our good citizens with it… You mages cannot be suffered to exist!" Rollo caught himself after almost falling forward. That was when Malleus saw the silvery hair of a boy he knew.

"MALLEUS!"

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 , Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14

[angelsanarchy]

Bad Habits: Clay Roach x Y/N Series - PRT 2

Tagged: @not-properly-human @dudeimsocool @chainsawgvtsfvck @s0ulfulll @kristennero-wallacewellsver @mommymilkers0526 @8klil @liquidsmoothdomme @bonesgirl11 @blackdollette @blacksoul-27 @starry-eyed-wild-child @hisemoslut @startseeingstars @hellcat34love @tvgirlsbluehair

Clay had been sitting in lock up for the past 4 hours, knowing that he would be let out by the end of the shift change. They only had an empty plastic baggie on his person when they did a search so they knew they couldn't charge him with anything concrete.

For some reason, they had it out for him so any chance they could hold him hostage in this cage they were fast to take.

"I mean it Jeffrey! Don't be a wise ass and I'll get you out of here!" Clay knew the voice that was coming down the hall.

"Hey sunshine, fancy seeing you here." He called out as she passed causing her to pause.

"Clay? What the hell? What are you doing in lock up?" Y/n looked at him through the glass and he chuckled.

"Oh you know me, perpetual victim of profiling." Clay joked.

"Seriously, what the hell are you doing in lock up?" Y/n asked looking concerned.

"Got caught with an empty baggie. I'll be out by the morning. I'm not worried." He said it so cavalier Y/n was actually annoyed.

"Do you ever plan on growing up or are you going to be a idiot your whole life." Y/n gritted. Clay took in her anger and chuckled.

"What are you so worked up about? This is not a big deal. They arrested me for an empty ziplock bag. It's not like I'm going to prison." Clay chuckled.

"You keep fucking off like this and you're going to find yourself in a situation where you'll be in big boy jail and you're far too pretty to survive in there." She needed him to know she was being stern with him but his smirk told her he didn't care she was trying to help.

"Kinda sounds like you care about me." Clay wiggled his eyebrow.

"You're smarter than this Clay. It's stupid to keep finding yourself in situations like this. Don't you want to do something with your life?" Y/n sighed.

"Like what did you have in mind sweetheart?" He asked curiously.

"You used to be good with numbers and computers. You can go back, get a GED, try and get certified-"

"Y/n please...be real here." Clay rolled his eyes.

"I'm being real. You're too smart to waste your life like this." Clay shook his head.

"I'm still smart, I just enjoy a little heroin every now and then. I'm not some hardened criminal." Y/n's brother had mentioned that Clay had started dabbling into heroin and she was relieved that he was too scared of needles to join him but she worried about Clay. She hated to admit that but she did.

"Alright Roach, time to go." One of the officers said walking towards them.

"See, I told you." Clay smiled standing up.

"Oh don't waste your time on this one. He's a no good loser who would suck dick to get a taste of crack. He's a lost cause." The officer's words made Clay's jaw clench. The cops in the city were all pieces of shit who were more corrupt than any criminal they've ever thrown behind bars but they always had the audacity to look down their nose at drug users.

It was Y/n's flushed face that made Clay go from anger to humiliation in an instant. She couldn't possibly believe he was out sucking cock for heroin, right? She knew him well enough to know that...didn't she?

"Good luck Clay." She cleared her throat and made sure she had left lock up before they were able to get Clay released. He knew that he would need to talk to her about that interaction the next time they ran into each other.

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

I just started reading your rhett/Tessa story and I adore it! If it isn't out of line or too much trouble could I request a lumen au for Tessa and Rhett? I adored the one you did for Ronnie and Jake and I can't help but wonder what it would be like for Tessa and Rhett.

I am so glad you've liked here to stay so far!! and ABSOLUTELY YOU CAN HOLY SHIT NOW THIS IS A CONCEPT (also uh....she was getting kinda long so I stopped at a very crucial moment but if you want more...just lemme know cause i have more lol)

to refresh on what a lumen is: "lumens take on the form of a small ball of light and vary in color from person to person. when you meet your soulmate your lumen will emit a bright light and upon brushing with your soulmate's lumen they both will give off a flash of light." - from @meliapis amazing arcane drabble there are windows to the soul(mate) please go read and review!! And then I added that a person's lumen flies in through their window at midnight on their 16th birthday.

SO with Rhett and Tess, they went to high school together.

And she's a few months younger than him (I think?? idk when his birthday is but we're gonna go with he's older for now until proven otherwise).

So Rhett gets his Lumen first, on the stroke of midnight when he turns 16. He's got his window open like his mama told him to and he's laying in bed, staring at the ceiling trying to will himself to not worry about it. It's no big deal. Just a piece of his soulmate is about to fly down from...wherever Lumens come from. No big deal.

The clock in the hall starts dinging and just like that, his room is illuminated with a soft yellow light. He's never sat up so fast in his entire life. Blankets go flying.

It just floats there in the middle of the room for a minute. A beautiful little ball of warm yellow, like a piece of the sun was in his room. It was calming the hammering of his heart inside his chest. Then it floated over to him and nuzzled itself against his cheek. It tingled, and it made him laugh.

So, ofc, he calls his Lumen Sunshine. That little piece of his soulmate, in those few months before he knows who it belongs to, never strays too far from him. Sticks close, likes to hide in his hoodies and burrow against his neck. It's shy, but warm. Comforting when his dad is screaming at him and his mom just tells him to do better.

He tries to act casual when he walks into school with Sunshine floating over his shoulder for the first time, but he really can't help bragging to his friends. Cause not everyone gets a lumen, but he had one. he had a soulmate out there somewhere, waiting for him.

And he really hoped it was Maria. That pretty girl he's been crushing on since he was 12. She hadn't gotten her lumen yet, so there was no way to know for sure until then. But he prayed every night, mused to Sunshine about it all the time.

Though the way Sunshine shied away from Maria, hung possessively around Rhett's face so she couldn't see him, should have been hint enough that it wasn't her.

Then, at midnight, October 17th, Tess is too anxious to stay in her room. She's wandered out into the horse barn. Giving her horse Peaches a midnight snack. Part of her hoped she didn't get one so no one would stare at her when she walked into school the next day.

But of course, a little ball of blue light - bright and clear as the sky - floated in through the crack in the barn door.

It went to her immediately, nuzzled against her belly to make her laugh and slid up onto Peaches' back like it wanted to go for a ride.

She calls her Lumen Cowboy.

That night, she confesses that she's scared of whoever they are a piece of. Scared they won't like her. Scared they'll want to be with someone else. Scared she won't like them either, that it might not be that Abbott boy she passes in the halls that's so cute she feels her blush in her ears.

But Cowboy, without words, is reassuring. Sets itself down beside her on her pillow all night while she tries to sleep.

She walks into school the next day with Cowboy confidently floating above her head. Clearing the way for her almost. Her friends are excited for her, and that helps her feel excited too. And she goes to her first-period class without any disruptions or hiccups. So she assumes that her soulmate isn't anyone she goes to school with. It's a small school, if they were there, Cowboy would have floated off to go find them by now.

But here's the thing.....

Rhett Abbott is running late to school

His chores weren't done and he wasn't going until they were.

So he pulls up about halfway through first period, runs to class and slips into his seat, luckily without his english teacher yelling at him.

But to add on to an already pretty shit morning, Sunshine just floats right back out the door.

"Uh, Mrs. Cooper? Someone's Lumen just went out into the hall?"

Everyone who has one looks up to see if theirs is gone, and Rhett feels the heat drain from his face when he realizes Sunshine is gone. He apologizes but shoots out of his desk like it's on fire. Mostly, he's just embarrassed and thinks Sunshine is wandering off. In the few months it's been there, it has wandered away to show him a cool sight a few times. Something he normally wouldn't even notice. And he thinks that is what is happening now.

AND THEN, just down the hall, Tess watches with wide eyes as Cowboy leaves the place where it was nestled in her sweatshirt pocket - only to go straight out the door. Mr. Snyder lets her go after it after a little begging.

And as soon as they're both out in the hall, calling in hushed whispers for their lumens to come back, their lumens start to glow.

Tess locks eyes with Rhett standing at the other end of the hall with wide eyes. Then their lumens meet in the middle and it feels like an explosion went off.

Everyone starts peeking out from their respective classrooms to see what was going on, and immediately people start talking among themselves.

"Rhett Abbott and Tess Abernathy! They're soulmates! Their Lumens just went off!"

And...Rhett is sixteen so please cut him some slack for this. But he looks disappointed. He's young, he thinks he's in love, he got his hopes up.

But man does that look just crush something inside Tess. Immediately she's got tears running down her face and she's so fucking embarrassed cause it's embarrassing enough being 16 but now everyone is looking at her and everyone knows what just happened and her LITERAL SOULMATE is disappointed that it's her and not someone else. Her nightmare come to reality.

So she runs off. She claps a hand over her mouth to keep in a sob and she runs. No destination in mind. But she bursts through the front doors with Cowboy trailing behind her and she just keeps going.

[blindmagdalena]

First I’m literally obsessed with the way you write homie it’s literally so in character.

Second, how do you think he would react to having a thicker gf and seeing them being verbally harassed bc of it? I feel like he would lose his mind

this fic has been rewritten and given a smutty follow up! check it out here. ;)

Tonight's gala is a significant one. Not only does Homelander have about a dozen deals to grease with a firm handshake and some oily promises, it's your first time attending one of these events at his side. He couldn't be prouder. You took his breath away in your formal wear; a sight to behold that had him clapping his delight. "You're gonna knock them dead," he whispered in your ear, savoring the flustered, breathy way you laughed.

Strange now that when he looks for you, Homelander doesn't see you on the event floor. You had gone to get drinks while he spoke with this senator—who has officially lost any and all of his interest in the wake of your disappearance—but you've been gone too long. Like an itch at the back of his neck, something doesn't feel right. "Ah, apologies, senator, I seem to have misplaced my date," he says, flashing his best award winning smile. "Gimme a minute to find her. Make sure she hasn't gotten herself into any trouble," he says, throwing in a wink for good measure. His pleasant expression falls off as soon as his back is turned to the boring little man. When Homelander doesn't find you on the event floor, he steps out. He listens for you, filtering out the music, the chatter, the noise of the world. He seeks what is familiar to him, what he would know from a meter or a mile away, and what he hears puts a lump of ice into his gut. You're crying.

Homelander moves swiftly down the hall, finding the women's bathroom in a heartbeat. You've gone far from the event floor, bypassing the nearer bathroom to use one further away. You're hiding, he realizes, but he can't fathom what from. He moves faster, imagining that you're hurt, that someone has you, that— "Babe?!" Homelander calls sharply, slamming open the door. He doesn't mean to scare you, but he can see in your expression that he did. Your eyes are wide and red, tears trailing black mascara down your cheeks. You stand with your hand lingering on the bathroom sink, and as the shock fades, your expression falters.

He's never seen you look so... sad. It twists in him like a hot knife, the discomfort he feels at it turning immediately into rage. Anger comes quick and easy to him. His voice is low when he demands, "Tell me what happened." "It's nothing," you try to dismiss, picking up the tissues you dropped on the floor to toss them into the garbage. "I just got overwhelmed at the party." "You're crying in a bathroom a floor down from the event, it is categorically not nothing," he argues, taking hold of your arms once he's near enough. He pulls you into him, lifting a hand to cup the side of your face. Thanks to plenty of experience with makeup in film and television, he knows better than to smear the blackened tears on your cheeks, though the impulse to wipe them away is there. "C'mon. Tell me."

You lean into him as you always do. He is a pillar, just as you have been for him. He can't fucking stand seeing you like this. "I don't belong here. I don't... talk, or dress, or look like these people. They're all..." You lift your hands, gesturing vaguely. Your voice sounds hoarse. He can't bear the sadness in it. "Perfect." "You have to be kidding me," Homelander says, his disbelief genuine. "The gaggle of sycophants and suits back there? They're insipid. Boring as all hell. I can't even tolerate being in the same room as them without you anymore," he says, huffing a laugh in an attempt to ease your mood. Anything to bring back your smile. "Seriously, what brought this on? You've never given a shit about all that pomp before." Your gaze drops. He knows you're hiding something from him. "Hey, c'mon," he coos, using the knuckle of his index finger to tilt your chin back up. "Tell me, and I will make it better."

One way or another.

With visible reluctance, you take a breath. "I... went to get the drink, like I said," you begin, fidgeting with the zipper on his glove. "When a group of people kind of cornered me at the bar. They seemed nice at first, they were asking questions about me, about us, which I know you said to expect, but then..." Your eyes prickle, he can see fresh tears well up as you speak. Homelander slips a hand to your back, rubbing it, his brow furrowed.

Sounds like someone's going to die tonight.

"One of them commented on my dress, she said that... Vought must not be used to dressing women my size," you say, voice falling quieter with every word. New tears fall. Homelander's jaw tenses. He looks away from you, blinking back that familiar crimson burn. "They all started laughing, and I just wanted to disappear," you say, a tight little sob escaping your throat as Homelander pulls you in against his chest, rubbing your back. "I'm sorry I didn't-" "No," Homelander interrupts, his anger making the word sound harsher than he intended. "No," he says again, correcting himself to be gentler. This rage isn't for you, after all. "No apologies. Let's get you cleaned up, alright? Get back out there." Someone is definitely going to die tonight. You tense up, pushing back from his arms to look up at him. "Please, I'd really like to just go home." "We will," he assures you, smoothing his hands up and down your arms. "Soon. I want you to show me the group who spoke to you."

"I don't want to cause a scene," you plead, flattening your hands to his chest. "They're not worth it." "No, they're not. But you are," he says, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips. He holds you firm until he feels you begin to melt, yielding to the warmth of him. By the time he draws back, you look sufficiently pliant. "Okay," you say quietly. He bites back a predatory smirk. "Nothing too dramatic, please?" You plea, leveling him with an attempt at a firm look, despite your big teary eyes. "Me? Dramatic?" He asks, feigning outrage. "I mean it," you stress, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. There it is, Homelander thinks. There is not a single heinous thing he would not do to see you smile. "Relax," he purrs. "I'll handle this."

When the two of you return to the event floor, it only takes you a moment to point out the offending group. With a hand wrapped securely around your waist, Homelander brazenly guides you to them. He feels you squeeze his hand anxiously, but he isn't the least bit deterred.

"Heyyy, what's up!" Homelander greets boisterously, bulldozing into their conversation with the friendliest of tone. Only you are wise enough to recognize the venom dripping from the corners of his mouth. His canines glint sharply in the light, as if eager for a bloody meal.

The air is strange, a mixture of drunken excitement and surprised nervousness. It's not every day Homelander himself steps into your conversation. A few of them look at you before they exchange glances, but clearly enough alcohol has been imbibed that they're feeling brave. They don't see the danger they're in. Homelander runs his tongue along his teeth. You clueless fucking idiots.

"Homelander, oh my god! I was hoping to run into you," one of the women announces. He can smell the liquor on her breath when she leans in, putting a bold hand on his arm opposite to the one he holds you with. "I'm such a fan, you have no idea. I've seen every one of your movies," she says, flushed giddy.

"Always great to meet such a dedicated fan," he says, lying through his teeth. A glance through her bag gives him exactly what he needs; her Vought security badge. She works in communications. "Kathleen, right? In Communications," he says, pointing a finger at her, his eyes slightly narrowed, as if he's just now recalling this information. "Oh, I-wow, yes! I can't believe you know who I am," she says, glancing back at her companions.

"I try to know everyone I work with," he lies smoothly, subtly shrugging her hand off of his shoulder, placing his hand on his hip. Not all of them work for Vought, but each of them has their ID on them. A quick flit of his super powered vision between them is all it takes for him to know each and every one of them.

Homelander cocks his head to the side, giving her a once over. Her dress is richly patterned, a myriad of black, white and red. The belt bears a familiar double C logo.

“Wow, Kathleen, look at you. Chanel, huh? Oh, wait…,” he stops himself, leaning forward to take a better look at the details of the dress. He clicks his tongue, standing straight. “Nooope, I misspoke. Chanel doesn’t bleed. Not a bad knock-off, though,” he says with a brief downturn of his lips, shrugging. Immediately, all eyes fall on Kathleen. There are a couple of stifled giggles and some childish oohh's. The man to her left, seeming eager to play along with Homelander’s little game of Mean Girls, readily chimes in, “Busted.” “I’d be quiet if I were you, Chuck,” Homelander says, rounding on the man so sharply, his laughter falls immediately silent. The shock on his face is understandable. He doesn't work for Vought. Homelander has no right knowing his name. “I can smell the red paint on the bottom of those misshapen Johnston & Murphy’s you’re trying to pass off as Louis Vuitton. Now that’s embarrassing.” This time, no one’s laughing. There’s no mirth left in Homelander’s voice, and they've all finally realized it. His gaze is drifting from one potential prey to the next, his mouth set in an unyielding line. He lifts his brows, waiting for them to continue their jeering.

“What? No one has anything to say to that? How about you, Jason?” He asks, startling one of the other men. “Why don’t we talk about those fucking ugly veneers of yours? I mean, god damn. I’ve never seen a more square smile in my life. It’s like staring at white slatwall every time you open your mouth.” Homelander begins to laugh. The sound of it is thorned, vicious to behold. “Aww, c’mon, don’t be so fucking sensitive. You wanted to have a laugh at my girl, right? Let’s laugh, then,” he says, lifting a gloved hand to snap his fingers impatiently, demanding, “Laugh!” Like a bark from an obedient dog, a single man amidst the group forces a stilted laugh. Homelander hones in on him with the precision of a seeking missile, dropping his hand. Deadpan, he asks, “Something funny, Jim?” Jim audibly gulps. “Y-you said-” "Y'see, that's your problem. You're all just a bunch of fucking sheep, so desperate to be seen as somebody, you end up being no one at all. If you put half the effort you put into kissing ass into a personality, you might be a fraction as interesting as she is," he says, gesturing to you with the hand he doesn't have holding you close.

"But instead you prop yourselves up on all this..." Homelander spins his hand loosely through the air before sighing, "Bullshit. It's boring. You're all so fucking boring and miserable with yourselves. You reek of it," he says, lip twitching in a near snarl. "Go. Get the fuck out of my tower,” he rumbles, voice set low. “All of you. Before I throw you off the balcony myself.”

There's a pregnant pause before Homelander snaps, "Now!" Like roaches, the lot of them scatter. Homelander watches them with a sneer. He would have preferred literally tearing them apart, but it's neither the time nor the place. "Holy shit," you whisper. Homelander hums quietly, turning to look down at you. Before he can say a word, you grab hold of the back of his neck and kiss him absolutely senseless. He grins against your lips, turning to pull you properly into his arms. His ego swells immediately, the kiss speaking volumes. You're pleased. Pleased with him. He greedily soaks up the feeling of your body against his, lips moving against yours, eager to chase away the salt smell of your tears with something a little more salacious. The two of you break apart before the kiss becomes any more scandalous than it already was, the buzz of the crowd around you dulled by the fervency pulsing between your bodies. "That was... the hottest thing anyone has ever done for me," you whisper, your heart beating heavily in your chest.

"That so? Might not be for long. This dress on your body has been driving me positively wild. All. Night. Long," he says, punctuating each word with a kiss. You bite your lip, inhaling a sharp, flustered little breath. "Can we get out of here yet?"

"You're damn right we can," he says, kissing you again.

That night, Homelander fucks you in and out of the dress. The truth of it is that whether you're dressed to the nines or laid completely bare, he will always be wild for you. You're beautiful, you're his through and through, and he's going to make sure every inch of you knows it.

He can deep fry those morons another night.

[cecilia01]

Ordinary

Chapter two The Mistery Girl Makes an Entrance

By the time the Hogwarts Express reached Hogsmeade Station at last, everyone was on their feet. The noises of excited chirping and flustered packing filled the corridors of the train. The travel was long enough that no one wanted to spend a minute more aboard, despite the comfortable cabins.

Professor Weasley shepherded the scared first-years towards the many boats laying around the shore, so that they can experience the traditional sail, with the breathtaking view of the glittering castle. Although everyone had fond memories of their own special occasion, it was quite windy that night, so the older students gladly got into their warm carriages. Each of them seemed to be moving on their own, but of course they weren’t exactly self-driving. The creatures harnessed to the ornate carts where only visible to those, who have encountered Death. I felt glad I couldn't see them, unlike quite a lot of my passenger friends.

The ride up to the castle was a quiet one, we have been travelling since the morning and our hearts ached for our own familiar beds in the dormitories. Though, until we could crash into them, we had to sit through the whole sorting ceremony and the great feast.

The thought of the countless plates of marvellous food made my stomach rumble, which made me realise, I was so excited about my return, I completely forgot about lunch, so I haven’t eaten since the hurried breakfast I had at home. I spent the rest of the ride daydreaming about the dishes they usually served on the feast. The pudding… the chicken… the…

The time to finally alight the last vehicle of the day couldn’t have come sooner. One by one we jumped off the carriage to the glistening grass of the Hogwarts grounds. As night fell, the fog covering the castle had deepened, adding a mystic aura to the enormous building.

As we stepped into the Entrance Hall, I finally got a glimpse of Samantha Dale, who was waiting for us to arrive.

‘Samantha! We’re here! How have you been faring? Have you been waiting for long?’ I shouted to my friend, waiving, and trying to get past a crowd of second year students. Samantha’s family lived in the Highlands surrounding Hogwarts, therefore scarcely did she take the Hogwarts Express on the 1st of September. So was the case for Sebastian, but he told us some dubious story about a book-shopping he had to do in London, hence his arrival with us. No one really knew (maybe except for Ominis) what he was doing all those times he disappeared. It was no secret he visited the restricted section of the library on countless occasion, sometimes you could hear Madam Scribbner’s screeching all the way from the main hall, and the boy spent an impressive amount of time in detention. We all knew he was searching for a cure for her twin sister Anne, who has been cursed by some evil goblins, but we didn’t know how far he would go to find something, anything.

‘I’m well thank you! What about you? How was the ride? Long I presume…’ said Samantha worriedly, glancing on our tired faces.

‘It was fine, Sam.’ I replied with a whisk. ‘But I am soooo hungry, I could eat the whole table, just let’s hurry on in already!’

We hurried down the long tables of Great Hall, waiving a temporary goodbye to the others to sit down at our blue and bronze Ravenclaw table with Amit and started our feast.

‘I have so much to tell you about my summer, you won’t believe half of it!’ whispered Samantha to my ears, as we both filled our plates with the enticing food from the middle of the table.

‘But Sam, you’ve written me a thousand letters if not more in the past months. I got the last one on the train.’ I replied, trying to hide my smile. As my stomach got fuller, the whole room seemed brighter.

‘I know that, but it is not the same! Besides, you need to tell everything too, your letters were incredibly short!’ she said with a sniff, pointing furiously at me with her fork.

‘I know, I am sorry, but…’ I started, but I could not finish my sentence, because suddenly the great antique doors of the hall opened, letting in the startled first years, led by Professor Weasley. We loved watching every year the bright faces of the new students, eyeing the floating, glistening candles, the enchanted ceiling, that reflected the sky and the weather outside. We loved seeing their shining eyes turning towards the four long tables, their nervous smiles at the encouraging older students, and their relieved expressions when their houses were proclaimed.

‘Can you see the new fifth year?’ Amit nudged my elbow over his pudding, his eyes scanning the crowd. ‘I supposed she would be here by now.’

‘No, I don’t think I can. I reckon she gets sorted separately, not being a first year and all…’ I replied doubtfully.

Amit’s observation seemed to occur at other tables too, because soon there were heads spinning in every direction as though the new girl would be hiding behind one of the columns. This went on until the last of the first years got sorted and most off the pudding was gone from the tables, when Headmaster Black gestured towards the door, visible annoyance filling his face. He left the hall, but promptly returned with a girl walking behind her.

‘That must be her!’ Samantha whispered to me. I nodded as I tried to observe her, while she was passing where we were seated. At first glance, she was strikingly beautiful with her wavy auburn hair flowing down her back, her freckled, rosy cheeks and glowing green eyes. She was strictly looking ahead of herself, so she wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes, with a sort of forced confidence over her pretty features. I started to feel bad for her, surely it must have felt terrible, everyone’s eyes fixed on her…

I absentmindedly glanced towards the Slytherin table, wondering if Ominis was informed about the great event, when I saw Sebastian’s face. His rounded eyes were fixated on her, mouth fell open and if it wasn’t for the strange knot in my stomach, I would’ve burst out laughing. But what was this strange feeling? Was I eating too fast? I tried to wipe Sebastian’s face out of my head, as I turned towards the podium, where our new classmate was being sorted.

‘Do you think she’ll be in Ravenclaw? She seems proper clever…’ wondered Samantha.

‘I…I do not know…’ I replied.

Not Slytherint, please, not Slytherin… A strange thought filled my mind.

‘SLYTHERIN’ roared the worn-out sorting hat, as the cheering burst out at the silver and green table, but I didn’t dare glancing there anymore.

‘Oh, and one more thing,’ said Headmaster Black ‘due to the unfortunate injury in last spring’s final, this years Quiddich season has been cancelled.’

An uproar of disgruntled shouts shook the Great Hall. ‘How can he do that?’ ‘That is not fair!”

‘Enough,’ shouted Black grumpily ‘it is not as though I banned flying altogether. But…don’t tempt me! Now off with you!’

We all got up from our tables in disbelief, but there was nothing we could do.

That night nobody could talk about anything else, in the corridors or in the common rooms or the dormitories.

‘How can he do that?’ Samantha asked angrily, as she was changing to her pyjamas. ‘Oh, I don’t know how poor Imelda must feel, she lives for Quiddich.’

‘I know. We shall talk to her tomorrow.’ I said half asleep. Tomorrow.

[gremlin-dreams]

Another dark dream: The Mobsters

My partner (lets call him Eddie, fake names for privacy) and I, at home, I'm his wife, I'm pregnant, Juju (our cat) is alive, and the time frame is screaming the 60s. He gets into some trouble accidentally when he and his boys piss off the wrong people and it turns out they are like part of some mob, Eddie didn't know.

When he gets home he tells me all about it, and I get to announce that I'm pregnant (I'm still slim enough to only juuuust be showing but it's far enough along that the baby is like an actual little baby, not just a clump of cells) and he is ecstatic, but worried about bringing about danger, so he grabs his coat and heads out, intending to apologise and fix the problems his boys created. 

Unfortunately, maybe fifteen minutes after he leaves, I'm feeding Juju and cooking dinner, and two men break in, one older, one younger, maybe 40s and 20s. I hid in the kitchen in this sort of like coat cupboard behind the door, but they were wrecking the house and they were about to kill Juju, and I knew that meant that if they found me they'd probably hurt me too, and I couldn't stay there, listen to them murder my cat and wait for them to find me. So I am in tears, terrified, I slip out of the cupboard shaking like a leaf and I grab two knives from my kitchen block. 

I was trying to get down the hall silently enough to make it to the door, but almost got caught and ducked into the bedroom at the last second. Unfortunately the older guy burst in and saw me, and kicked the younger one out whilst undoing his belt to "Show Eddie's missus what real men were like". He got close enough to grab me and tried to pull me down to bed level when I pulled out the first knife and stabbed it over his shoulder into his back really as hard as I could multiple times. It wasn't a silent thing between the sound of the knife going in and out, and his agonised and enraged yelling, it was horrible, I was murdering a man, but it was him or me. I could not stop shaking, but I did not have the luxury of feeling my trauma right now, it wasn't over, I still wasn't safe.

He screamed and yelled out and fell forward onto the bed all bloody and I left the knife in his back like an idiot but I still had the second knife, it was like the semi-big triangular knife you get, like the butcher's one. I made a break for the door despite this guy yelling his head off as he suffocated on his own blood, and I made it into the hall until I felt these arms wrap around me, immensely tight, their chest meeting my back with this thud, the younger one grabbed me.

I screamed and turned around and struggled, trying to do the same thing I just did to the older gentleman but he caught my wrist and tried to make me drop it. In the struggle I had tried to escape in frankly any direction, and both of us intertwined sort of stumbled into the living room, we both fell over the arm of the sofa, onto the length of it, sinking into the cushions, he was on top of me, I thought it was over because he was stronger, if I'm honest, I thought I was about to die. But somehow amidst the struggle I managed to free the knife for a split second enough to plunge it into his chest. He yelled out much higher pitched than the older fella, and obviously paused looking down at it in disbelief and anger, and it wasn't quick enough for me so I yanked it out and did it again. This time he weakly sort of fell to the side, yanno like hyperventilating and stuff, just enough for me to roll off the couch, out from under him, and onto the floor, trying to pull myself away from him. So far I was only really scratched and bruised, and scared, but when I thought I might actually make it somehow against all the odds and that they were both basically dead, I feel this excruciating pain and let out a garbled scream. 

I was in like a crawling position and lifted my arm and looked down at my side to see that he had pulled out the knife from his own chest, probably the only thing keeping him alive any longer, and tried to shove it my way, stabbing me in my side, it felt as if it stabbed right between my ribs. I was terrified it had hit a lung or a major organ because of where it was and how much fucking pain I was in, and he pulled it out too as he collapsed over, dead, leaving me all alone. 

So there I am, in my small wrecked house, two dead mob guys bleeding all over the upholstery, and me maybe dying or bleeding out who knows, also pregnant and scared that the little one will die too. This is when I reach the patio doors in the living room and basically collapse, looking out I see Eddie's car pull up, the headlights right in my eyes. Somehow I made it, somehow I survived.

Now this is a bit odd, because it seems like there has been a time skip of many many years because we are no longer in the 60s, things feel way more modern like the 80s maybe, and Eddie is taller, more built/wide and also balding slightly (but not that old, he gives Dave Bautista vibes) and we have two daughters, around 10 and 13 (I think one was called Amelia, and I'm not sure if I caught the name of the other, maybe Sarah). But the weird thing is that in other ways there has not been that much of a time skip at all, it has been days, maybe weeks since the incident, like I'm not yet scarred, I still very much have a wound with stitches and everything. To be honest it's still a miracle that I survived and it didn't puncture a lung or something. 

Anyways we are in a city/town, not too far from our home (we moved because I definitely was not living there any more) and on a little day out, anyways we are all just coming out of this strange cinema/museum combo and walking down this sort of wide decorated street, maybe a boulevard, it wasn't for cars, it had bollards, just a wide road for pedestrians, it even had these little circular small buildings in the middle every so often which housed stairs down into the train stations.

We had just seen a movie and were looking around for places to take the kids for dinner, when someone walked past me that I vaguely recognised and couldn't quite place. It was driving me mad trying to figure out where I had seen her before in that weird blue dress, and I think it was the hospital. Anyways as we are walking it bugged me enough that I just so happened to turn around to get a second look and thank god I did, because behind us, maybe like 50ft back, was this car stopped at the bollards, convertible, top down, with two or three men sat inside, leaning out, and in their hands looked to be guns. Real mob cliché I know, but it works, it's terrifying, and they are looking directly at us. 

My stomach drops like when you are on an elevator or reach the top of a rollercoaster, and I swear I felt like I was about to throw up and my blood went cold. I looked at Eddie and my girls and I just said "RUN." and that was it. 

I grabbed both my daughters hands and pulled them with me, Eddie running alongside us too, and when we do all hell breaks loose, I hear the guns fire a lot, not just once or twice, my daughters are crying and screaming and people everywhere start running, bodies drop down to the floor either side of us all bloody, I have to yell at my children not to look, and I'm already kinda limping from my injury in my side, it is scary.

The shots kept firing, for longer than what felt possible, and we put a considerable distance between us and them and unless they wanted to leave their getaway car they couldn't get any closer. Eventually I pulled my daughters behind the little subway station building, the only shelter we had in the middle of the boulevard, Eddie is with us, and it turns out he has been hit in the shoulder, but it is thankfully just a flesh wound but his shirt is obviously very red now and the girls are crying their eyes out. I tried to get us down into the subway station for some extra distance, an escape, but someone had managed to pull over the cage door and lock it, meaning we were just stuck there using this tiny building as cover, a big wide street filled with small scattered piles of human bodies either side of us. I am not exactly the religious type at all, I don't even really believe in an afterlife or a god, but right then, I started praying for the safety of my family. It was horrible. So many people were dead because these scumbags wanted us, and now we were trapped, basically being served to them on a bloodied silver platter.

Now Eddie pipes up with this ridiculous idea that he is going to make a break for it and go find help down this cross section road nearby, and down that road was a pub where his boys frequented because one of them was a cop and it wasn't too far from the district station, albeit cops would probably already be coming if someone had just massacred an entire street of people. I told him it was stupid and that he would die and be leaving us there alone, obviously in hushed tones for my girls' sake, and he said something like "its okay, they want me, they wanna punish me" (which thinking back is ridiculous, because yeah Eddie and his boys may have pissed off some mob members at the beginning but I was the one that had killed two of them.)

Anyways, he makes this ridiculous break for it, running as fast as he could and when I heard those guns cry out again I swear my heart stopped, but Eddie somehow made it all the way to the cross street, god it felt good to see him make it but part of me was so scared, so angry, that he had just abandoned us in danger. I knew he was doing his best and we were both traumatised, but I was now just stood there with two crying little girls, crouching and pulling them into my chest so they don't look at all the bodies on the floor around us despite the danger I can do nothing about and the agony in my side, possibly from the running with my stitches. It felt like a whole hour I was planted there like that, shaking like a leaf, clutching my daughters so tightly that I swore my arms were starting to tingle and go numb, just waiting for this inevitable moment where a man in a cheap suit holding this horrible weapon just steps around the corner and ends us all, and there was nothing I could do to stop it except maybe use my body as a shield for my children. My toes started tingling too, and going numb, and I couldn't tell if I was just feeling weak from the adrenaline or what, and one of my daughters, the youngest one, just sort of looks up at me, teary and fear filled eyes and a puffy face, with this red on her hands from gripping my shirt. At first for a split second I panicked thinking that she was hurt, that it was her blood, but it wasn't. 

After this everything goes black, which is a terrifying part of the story to not get an ending to. Thankfully I woke up in a hospital and immediately started asking where my husband and kids were, I was assured they were safe. Eddie's boys were with me and told me about how all the boys had split up to take shifts and make sure that none of my family were alone. Eddie was getting his shoulder treated and the kids were being looked after in the hospital nursery usually for staff, and all of them had like one cop and at least one friend with them. Turns out I had passed out from blood loss just before help arrived, because yes my stitches had come undone (which made me panic that I had just traumatised my girls even further) but Eddie had managed to get help and the cops had even managed to catch like two out of the three guys in the car. 

I'm not gonna lie at first one of Eddie’s friends was being his usual jackass self, know-it-all posh twat, but after I snapped at him and kinda broke down in tears all emotional he shut the fuck up for a minute and then apologised and let me talk, let me get it all out, tell him how fucking scary it all was, regardless of how worked up and dramatic I was being, and there was this moment when I was talking about the girls and he must have been imagining his own little one, because then even he got close to breaking down and actually hugged me and apologised. He then said he would go and fetch the girls and bring them to me since I couldn't really move far, and as he left, Eddie walked in, all patched up, thankful to see me awake, walking straight to me and holding me. It wasn't exactly a happy ending but it was far better than what I thought might have happened.

[moon-touched-vn]

funny quotes compilation

---

Creoda: "I am Creoda, son of Cerdic." Arthur: "Cracking. I'm Damns To Give, son of Out Of." ---

"I couldn't help but note the blade's small, unimpressive make." Arthur: "You're going to carve me with a woman's knife?" Arthur: "Surely the king's castration calls for an ax."

---

Bedwyr: "You think [Gwenhwyfar is] learning anything in the convent?" Arthur: "Frankly, I've always been under the impression the queen was born knowing everything." Arthur: "Certainly acts it, she does."

---

Creoda: "You have that horrible accent." Creoda: "Phlegm everywhere." Creoda: "It's disgusting." Arthur: "May I refer you to the wisdom of the bards?" Arthur: "He whose tongue sounds like gargled piss ought not cast aspersions." Arthur: "Nor spit in the wind." --- Morgan: "Good morning, executioner!" Morgan: "Did demons torment your dreams?" Arthur: "Bore da, Morgan."

---

"Casting [Creoda] a hard glance over my shoulder, he declared:" Bedwyr: "I crave Sais blood, Lord." "Then, as he looked at me, his voice dropped to a whisper." Bedwyr: "Let me out, fucksakes. I've got to take a heinous piss."

---

Arthur: "Creoda really is rubbing off on you in all the wrong ways." Morgan: "I don't want to be lectured by one with the manners of a dog in a mead hall." Arthur: "Step up from a wolf in a chicken pen." Morgan: "Are you certain you are a king? Because all I hear from you is jest." Arthur: "Good ones manage both."

---

Cynric: "La, Creoda, what do I keep you around for, decoration?" Cynric: "You see a pair of pretty birds and your brain flies off with them."

---

Morgan: "You've an entire weir to receive your business, but you choose to water my leeks!" Creoda: "Woman, my bladder does not hold witan when it is full of ale."

---

Creoda: "How many times did you request Wulf and Eadwacer?" Cynric: "Enough to put the hollering to bed." Creoda: "La, Cynric, why chase the sword when you're a born peace-weaver?" Cynric: "Aw, what're you pissing and moaning for? You weren't there to hear it."

--- Servant: "The yellow-haired one sits, and partakes neither of food nor drink." Morgan: "They're all yellow-haired, Yetunde."

---

Bedwyr: "Prefer if my counsel was taken into bloody consideration once in a while." Bedwyr: "[testily] Lord." Arthur: "How about this?" Arthur: "Say 'Lord' in that tone again and the Saisman's sword goes so far up your arse, you'll flap like a ffycin war banner every time you fart."

---

Creoda: "Your Gewisse is atrocious." Arthur: "You should hear my Irish. Sounds like a Scotsman stuffed a fistful of acorns in his mouth."

---

Iddawg: "Shouldn't you keep an eye on [Arthur]?" Creoda: "I have just one pair." Creoda: "You watch him." Iddawg: "What if he runs?" Creoda: "He won't." Iddawg: "But what if he tries?" Creoda: "Kill him." "Iddawg gave his blunted shovel a despairing glance." Iddawg: "What if he kills me?" Creoda: "So long."

---

Arthur: "I thought you Saeson were great shepherds." Morgan: "No more than you wealh are fantastic cattle thieves." Arthur: "Think me an Irish king, do you?"

---

Bedwyr: "They say if you press your ear to the dirt on Bedwin's grave, you can still hear his gripes waft through." Arthur: "No wonder nothing grows there. Scared the worms away, he did."

---

Creoda: "Death doesn't stop the work." Creoda: "It just passes the work onto another man." Arthur: "Besides, you've such a stick up your arse, you wouldn't rest knowing we were doing it wrong." Creoda: "We burn our dead." Arthur: "Ah." Arthur: "Stick's for kindling."

---

Arthur: "Beli knows I've had to sit and entertain the most insufferable kiss-arses while praying they would choke on a fish bone."

---

Creoda: "Come down." Creoda: "No reason to squat in the trees."

Arthur: "Can't you leave me alone? I'm trying to take a proper dump, but all your gawking makes it hard to hatch."

Morgan: "What a mighty warrior you are when you have neither man nor horse to back your orders." Morgan: "All you can do is preen your feathers."

Arthur: "Pity when a man can't build his roost in peace, that it is." Arthur: "Alas, whatever is the constipated merlin to do?"

--- Creoda: "Morgan said she heard hens clucking."

Arthur: "Do you mind? Bedwyr and I are trying to hatch eggs."

---

Arthur: "Aye, but now Lord Peplum has hurled a wine jar at Lord Brocade's head, because he's just received word that Lord Brocade's nephew made off with his fattest cattle and is sleeping off a drunken stupor in his fields." Morgan: "Sounds like my kind of party."

---

Morgan: "Good evening, man-smiter." Morgan: "Did a cloud of mosquitoes feast on your succulent blood?" Arthur: "Not now." Morgan: "Keep up the attitude and your liver will burst with bile." Arthur: "I don't think I much like this Hippocrates fellow of yours." Arthur: "Or his rubbish ideas."

[laxyaklovesloz]

The Legend of Zelda: Real Courage | Chapter Eight: Avoiding Rocks

Lila tried to keep herself from thinking about the traveling prince from the bomb shop, at least for a short while. She followed her keese friend into the mines, a rocky path marked by a wooden arch. The entrance to the mines was open above with tall rock walls winding this way and that. The walls weren't nearly as high as in the village, but only because the ground sloped upward as it got closer to the mountain. Eventually, the two came to a narrow cliff face, which had been dug out of the rock.

Mori flew up to the next level, then turned back to Lila.

"You're so short!" he joked.

Lila glared at the creature. "Stop bragging just because you have wings!" She looked around for a way up, but the only thing she saw was the iron grating used to hold up the rock.

Before Mori could say anything more, the two heard a rumbling sound, coming from behind the keese. Mori turned around and uttered, "Uh-oh..."

"What?" Lila asked, furious.

"Incoming!" Mori shouted, flying higher.

A boulder flew off the cliff, soaring right over Lila's head before continuing down the path. Soon the rumbling went away.

Lila felt shaky and tried to brush it off. She turned her fear into anger towards Mori by yelling, "Give me more warning next time!"

Mori flew lower so that he was level with her. "I don't know if you noticed, but there wasn't much time to give you more warning than I had."

Lila glared at him for a few seconds. She could tell he was holding back a laugh. She turned away with a grunt. "I thought we wouldn't run into any Gorons."

"Oh, yeah, about that..."

Lila spun around to face him again. "What?"

"There's a secret path I forgot to show you."

She closed her eyes and took a slow breath. "Where?"

"Not far," Mori answered teasingly. "Just a bit back down the path. Follow me."

Lila opened her eyes to glare at him, but he was already flying away. She sighed, giving up. Then she walked after him. A moment later, they were standing in front of a small dip in the wall. Everything looked the same, but upon closer inspection, Lila found a hole. It was just big enough for her to crawl through but much too small for a Goron.

"That's it?" she asked.

"Yeah," Mori answered. "It opens up so you can stand. You're not scared, are you?"

"Nah," Lila replied. "I've been in tighter spots." With that, she got on her hands and knees and crawled into the gap. She crawled out of the short tunnel to find herself standing in a larger hall. She pulled out her lantern to help her see the way. The hall continued in one direction, almost parallel to the normal mine path, and the two followed it.

"This brings back memories," Mori sighed.

Lila glanced at him in confusion. Since when was he so nostalgic? She asked, "What kind of memories?"

"For starters, this is where I grew up."

"Really?" Lila wondered, "I've never heard about your childhood." The last word seemed kind of strange to her. Did animals have childhoods? The whole concept of Mori "growing up" was weird.

"Well, it wasn't long," Mori answered, "but it was fun. I had lots of siblings. I remember us all going out for a hunt at night."He sighed again. "Those were the good days."

Lila tried to keep herself from laughing. "What made things change?"

"Hm? Oh. The Gorons smoked us out. My family flew north, though I was the only one who went as far as Lady Gaonondra’s castle."

Lila stopped to look at him. "Seriously? That's how you came to be my guide?"

"Yup, pretty much."

She continued walking, deciding to let the topic drop. Though she couldn't admit it to herself, she was scared of asking more questions. She worried Mori would be mad at her. She couldn't help but feel guilty, knowing he was separated from his family.

Then again, so was she. As far back as she could remember, Lady Ganondra was the only constant in her life. She had Mori and Dalni now, but no mother and no father. Just servants and a trainer. Just training and quests.

Over the years, Lila hadn't let herself dwell on the questions of her family. This time, she turned her thoughts to the prince. Zale. What did he mean that he was making his "rounds"? Did he pass through Kakariko often? Did he work for other stores in other towns? Where did he live? Surely he had a place to call home. Even Lila had that.

Too many questions. Lila didn't like thinking about such weighty topics. She'd much rather be battling a monster at that moment. Her pace quickened until she was running.

"What's the hurry?"

Lila didn't answer him. She wanted her mind to clear of everything, even Mori's nagging. Of course, by definition, Mori would never stop nagging.

"Hey, are you listening to me?"

The tunnel opened up, and ahead was a faint light. Lila decided to give Mori an answer.

"I just wanted to get here quickly. Is that a crime?" She didn't mean to snap, but she couldn't help the words coming out of her. She decided right then and there that she should never think again. Action was much better.

"No, it's not," Mori said. "I was just wondering. Looks like we're almost there."

"I hope there are monsters for me to beat up."

"If the ice castle was any indication, there will be."

As they were talking, they came upon the source of light. Two torches stood about two arms' length apart from each other. Between them was a doorway, but rocks were blocking the path.

"It's a good thing I bought those bombs," Lila said, reaching for her pack.

"What if you bring down the whole cave?"

Lila almost dropped the bomb back into the bag at the thought. As always, she hid her fear.

"I'm not going to bring down the whole cave. These rocks are weaker than the walls and ceiling. The bomb should just blow them up."

"I don't believe you," Mori said, fluttering away.

Lila crouched and placed the bomb on the ground, exactly between the torches. Then, after a few tries, she lit it with flint and steel. She backed away quickly, wondering how big the blast radius would be.

"This will work," she muttered, a quiver in her voice.

After a few seconds, the wick burned down. Lila shielded her face with her arm.

Boom!

The bomb went off with a smaller explosion than Lila expected, but it got the job done. The fallen rocks were cleared... as well as the torches. Coughing from the dust, Lila pulled out her lantern again. Mori came in for a closer look.

"Hey, it actually worked!"

"I told you," Lila replied with a smug look.

"You were scared. I know it!"

"Was not! Do you see me running away from the cave because I was too scared to light a bomb? No! If it weren't for me, we would have to backtrack again."

Lila stepped over the hole left by the explosion and continued on. The tunnel branched into two paths, one of which was lit in the distance and a lot warmer. Before Mori could launch another insult, she asked, "Lava or darkness?"

"Um, what?"

"Which path should we take: Lava or darkness?"

"How should I know?"

Lila growled, "You're supposed to sense what we're searching for, remember?"

"Oh. In that case, we have to go left."

Left was the way of darkness, which probably meant there weren't any monsters to fight. Lila sighed and said, "Fine. Let's get going." She continued down the left fork with Mori following faithfully.

The path continued parallel to the mine's path for a short while, and then it was blocked by an ancient-looking wall with green decorations weaving all over its face. After emptying her bomb bag in an attempt to remove the obstacle, Lila decided to turn back and take the lava path. There she met with the monsters she was dying to fight. After a while, she found a trigger. She and Mori went back to the ancient wall to find it had slid into the wall. The path continued the length of the lava room, then turned right, where there was a hint of light. After a few more minutes, they came upon a room with three tunnels, all blocked off by the loose rocks from the tunnel's entrance.

"Well now we have to go back to town because someone used all our bombs," Mori mocked.

Lila was tired from fighting all afternoon, and the thought of the busy streets of Kakariko made her cringe. Then she remembered Zale's offer.

"Yup, we have to go back to town," Lila said, wiping the sweat from her forehead. She turned around and started jogging back to the entrance.

"What's got you so excited?" Mori asked.

"Nothing," Lila said lightly. "Hey, when we get to Kakariko, you should... stay away from me. We don't want to draw attention."

"You didn't say anything last time."

"Well, I didn't think of it last time. You don't want to get in trouble with Lady Ganondra, do you?"

"No, but why would—"

"Great! It's settled then. You'll leave me alone while I stay the night in Kakariko."

"Stay the night? Are you serious?"

"It won’t hurt anything."

"Lady Ganondra might get mad at you for taking so long..."

"She'll understand."

"What about Volvagia?"

"I can deal with him, too.""Okay... if you think so..."