#i had rocks thrown at me on the playground

[ameliaenya707]

I know yall think I'm funny and hot and such but the kids I went to elementary school with would NOT agree with you.

[cavalierious-whim]

A Knight's Tale (Neuvithesley)

Wriothesley swears an oath of old, sealed with his blood, and a bite mark against his shoulder.

'oath of the water'

5.3k

knight and emperor au

set in the same canon as 'my rock, my shield'

Read here on AO3. You can also, follow me on Twitter and Blue Sky.

--

Wriothesley is thrown away as a child more than once. 

He doesn’t remember the first time, told that he was a babe left on someone’s stoop. The old man who finds him is kind enough to share a few meals, but unequipped to raise him beyond that. The people that he is given too are not kind; they are devilish instead, with insidious motives driven by greed and money. 

Children are resilient and observant. Wriothesley grows like a weed and notices the signs that something is off but ignores them. How can he not? Those who foster children who aren’t their own are blessed with kindness and fortune. Surely no one would put such effort into rearing lost causes for anything else than the love of it. 

But Wriothesley is unlucky. Or perhaps lucky—depends on the day he’s asked. One late night, one glass of water, one glimpse at something that he wasn’t supposed to see; Wriothesley leaves the next day for fear of his future, carrying his life in a threadbare bag that an older sister had left behind. 

He doesn’t think about what happened to that sister. 

The streets become his playground as he bumps elbows with others. It’s dog-eat-dog but he learns. There are rules here too, just like anywhere else, and while they may not be things like ‘keep your back straight and your head down’, they’re just as important. 

It’s all about survival. Don’t trust others, don’t share your food. The young ones will always come back for scraps if you give them a bone, and you have to keep those too because who knows when you can steal another round without getting caught.

Wriothesley is good at stealing. He’s quick and nimble on his feet, and those in the market have given up calling the guards on him. These are the best and worst years of his life. Best in that they taught him lesson after lesson. Worst in the eternal hunger gnawing at his gut, in the fight for clean water, for shelter, for basic needs. 

There are stories of how dogs go back to their abusive owners, desperate for a shred of love. Wriothesley is loyal like man’s best friend, and when he’s a little older and taller, he drags himself back to that stonewashed mansion brimming with children. And like desperate owners who lost their best friend, Ma and Pa welcome him back with welcome arms—

At least until they are found lying dead one night soon after. 

He is a teenager now, and though he’s learned a lot, Wriothesley didn’t know blood could be so red, or that it could stain wooden floors so easily. 

When the guards arrive the knife drops to the ground and he puts up no resistance. He’s shackled and taken to prison. He sits in a cell and has square meals twice a day for the first time in years. 

It’s a cold day when he awakes to a stranger. She is crisp-looking, sharp like the knife he’d saved up for, the only purchase he’s ever truly allowed himself. Cat-eyed as she watches him carefully, pacing back and forth across the filthy floor. 

“They’re thinking about a trial for you,” she says to him. “Even though you’ve confessed.”

Wriothesley blinks, too tired to do much else. 

“Do you want a trial, boy?”

“No.” His voice is hoarse, having gone unused by however long he’s been kept here. Days? Weeks? It’s all bled together, and he sleeps the hours off huddled in the corner of his cell. 

Her gaze turns curious. “Why not?” she asks, genuinely. Like a cat with cream, he realizes. She’s stalking him in the same way the older kids stalk the fresh meat on the streets. 

“It’s obvious that I did it,” he says dryly. “And, as you said, I confessed.”

The woman taps her chin thoughtfully. “The argument is that it was warranted. The guards found a mess in that home. Traffickers—your foster parents. Did you know?” Wriothesley’s jaw clenches, and she looks at him as though she’s backed him against the wall, right where she wanted. “You have a good case. The means outweigh the end, they say. What are a couple of deaths when it saves dozens?”

“Your point?”

She stops her pacing and leans close to the bars. Wriothesley can just barely make out her pale hair in the darkness of the room. “If you go to trial, you may not win, even with the odds in your favor.”

Wriothesley doesn’t care. Wriothesley has done his one deed that’s worth something in this life. At this point it matters not where he finds up. 

The woman’s gaze washes over him. “If you were let go, where would you go?”

“No where,” says Wriothesley. It’s oily, thick in his gut. That thought. Wriothesley wants somewhere to go, but there are no homes for the destitute.

She hums. “I had thought your work was petty revenge, but it wasn’t, was it? No, you are a selfless boy, so quick to throw away his life for the sake of the others. Tell me—do you think yourself unworthy of a good life?”

Wriothesley’s tongue is thick in his mouth. “I don’t… there’s nothing left for me so it doesn’t matter. My work is done.”

“Is it? Sounds as though you are perfect for the House of the Hearth.” The woman’s eyes shine with a conspiratorial glint. “Listen boy, I come here with an offer. Fontaine has a need for boys like you. Her Lady the Archon would boast about chivalrous intent, but that does not a good guard make. No, it’s all about guts and survival. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a boy say such a bold lie when his eyes show that he wants to survive.”

“The guard? The Royal Guard?”

“Well I don’t think you’d make a good spy,” she teases. “You’d have a roof over your head, meals, clothing, and even a stipend.”

“At the expense of being fodder,” spits Wriothesley.

The woman does not deny this. Wriothesley sits there and thinks about it, working his jaw.

Finally, she says, “There are worse things. Think of all the little siblings you could save in the future.”

Wriothesley does. He thinks about others, children, the elderly, the infirm. He thinks of the guards who’d chase him into alleys only to turn a blind eye because they knew he had nothing better. The slaps on the wrists instead of losing fingers and knuckles. The coins that were pressed into his palms, or the last bits of ale left at the edge of a table with their faces turned. 

The guards have always been nice to him. Even when they cuffed him at his home, it was with care. It was with pity, and he knows they’ve been sneaking him extra rations even now.

Wriothesley swallows and says, “Alright then.”

The woman’s mouth spreads into a wide smile. There is something strange about it, something off. Wriothesley has long learned how to read people and though this woman brings him an offer gilded in gold, he has the distinct feeling it will not be easy. 

Still. Shelter. Food. The alternative is death, even if they let him go. Winter will be here soon and Wriothesley’s worn through his only pair of boots. 

“Alright then,” the woman repeats. “I am called the Knave, by the way. But you can call me Father.”

#

His experiences can be counted by the scars that are notched in his skin.

The rest of Wriothesley’s teenage years pass by in a flurry of training, conditioning, and harrowing outings that test his resilience. Father is neither kind nor cruel, Father just is. Wriothesley keeps his head down, does as he’s told, and learns to loosen up. 

Comrades come and go, in and out, around and around, like those fancy revolving doors he once saw at a hotel he staked out as a child. As an adult he travels more than not, but he rarely steps foot into those old spaces he used to haunt. 

He rises in the ranks. He’s gifted titles and awards, and fanciful ribbons on his uniform. But even with his ranks and commendations, he goes to bed at night empty and forlorn. Loneliness seeps into his sheets, into his bones, and he tries to warm up with a companion of the week. 

And then there is Monsieur Neuvillette, a courtly man, the Chief Justice. He doesn’t look at Wriothesley with pity, like he’s some strange street rat who’s been polished up for entertainment. He just looks at Wriothesley. And talks to him, and shares tea with him.

Conflict in Fontaine comes and goes, Wriothesley comes and goes, but Neuvillette is always here for him, waiting, a friendship carefully cultivated through the years with nothing expected in return. Wriothesley clings to it, and the warmth that floods through his chest, pocketing every subtle smile that Neuvillette shares in his presence alone. 

A decade passes and Wriothesley wonders if twenty-five is supposed to be so exhausting. Another five years are gone in a blink, and he’s granted a Vision for an unknown reason. Celestia would not favor him, and yet it gleams in his palm, frosted at the edges. No one notices. Except Neuvillette. It’s pinned crookedly to the coat of Wriothesley’s uniform, and he reaches out to adjust it. 

That touch burns through Wriothesley but he wills himself still. 

“Congratulations,” says Neuvillette so quietly that it’s a hymn for Wriothesley alone. “I see that you have found something to protect.”

Because that’s what a Vision is, right? Divine power granted by Celestia herself. Neuvillette has never cared much for them, his nose wrinkled in distaste at the mere mention. But this one—this one must be different. It feels different even, crisp against his chest like the Cryo it breathes, but warm when held in his palm as it beats like a heart. 

Neuvillette smiles at him. Wriothesley’s heart skips a beat and he knows, then, that Celestia didn’t grant him this power, it was borne of something else entirely. 

Shortly thereafter, Wriothesley is brought to Neuvillette’s personal chambers. 

It is late. Neuvillette is dressed down for the night—far more casually than Wriothesley has ever seen him. He sits in a chair and flips through edicts. A glass of crystal clear water sits on the table beside him.

He sees Wriothesley’s hesitance and calls him forward. And he goes, caught like a puppet on a string,  flitting across the floor and feeling awkward in such a personal space. 

“Focalors,” begins Neuvillette, but then he pauses, unsure how to continue.

Yes, their Archon. Wriothesley has never disliked the woman but her theatrics certainly cause the Royal Guard quite the headache. 

“Has she been needling you again?” asks Wriothesley with humor. 

Neuvillette’s face crinkles around the edges. He sets his papers down across his lap and lets out a long-suffering sigh. “That would make this easier, I would think.” His tone is rueful and tired, and Wriothesley wonders if this just might be a coup in the making. 

It is not.

Neuvillette rubs his chin and then says, “Focalors is not the Empress.” Wriothesley blinks, not quite comprehending. When Neuvillette continues, his voice is small and hesitant. “I am the Emperor,” he says, “and this is a carefully guarded secret, for if those out there knew that the Sovereign Dragon of Hydro was, in fact, still alive, chaos would ensue. Do you understand, Wriothesley?”

Wriothesley understands. And then he does not. “Celestia…” He trails off. He’s read the histories. He knows that Neuvillette knows what he’s about to say. The Authority of the Seven Sovereigns was stripped eons ago and war broke out. Thousands upon thousands of years Fontaine has worked underneath an Archon instead.

Neuvillette’s expression is strained. “It is a ruse, one carefully crafted and known by none.”

“None,” repeats Wriothesley. “Father—”

“Your Father is not privy to this.”

“Then who is?”

“Myself,” says Neuvillette, “and Focalors.” And then a wrinkle of his nose. “And Miss Sigewinne.”

A beat passes. “And now me,” finishes Wriothesley. And then: “Why me?”

“Because I trust you,” replies Neuvillette evenly. He stands and glides across the floor, and suddenly his ethereal grace makes sense. “Because you care for me.”

Wriothesley feels ensnared at that moment, caught in a trap of Neuvillette’s making. Neuvillette watches him with a serpentine gaze, pupils slitted, irises glowing blue in the low candlelight. There is no judgment, though. His expression is soft, tender even. Neuvillette reaches out and cups Wriothesley’s cheek, tracing over the arch of his cheekbone like he’s a treasure. 

“Monsieur—”

“I have need of a knight, and who is a better choice than you?”

“It’s a risk to tell me this,” says Wriothesley. “What if I were—”

“I care for you,” cuts in Neuvillette as he leans into Wriothesley’s space. This is the closest they’ve been in all their years spent together. Neuvillette smells like a crisp, mountain stream, like the air right before a storm. “I care for you in ways that are entirely improper.”

Wriothesley is ensnared again but for entirely different reasons, heat curling in his gut. “Improper,” he repeats, voice tight. 

Neuvillette grasps his chin between a thumb and forefinger. “Focalors did not like the idea of it, but she is nothing but a puppet. I hold the true Authority here in all matters, and so I will do as I wish. I would not have asked were I not sure you’d agree.”

It is a simple answer. Of course, Wriothesley will say yes. It’s been a long time since his heart started beating for this man instead, and he will happily be his sword and shield. 

“Wriothesley,” says Neuvillette then, guiding their faces closer. “It is not an oath made lightly.”

“I love you,” blurts Wriothesley, rather stupidly. 

Neuvillette stills. And then he smiles, wide and genuine, unfettered affection blooming across his face. Wriothesley has never seen such a look on him. “Yes,” he replies, “you do.”

He does not need to say it back. It is as clear as a warm day. It’s in the way that he cups Wriothesley’s chin, in how he leans closer; it’s in the way that he clumsily kisses him, unpracticed and unused to such intimacies, and yet Neuvillette chooses to explore this with Wriothesley. 

That night, Wriothesley lays himself open. He lets Neuvillette crack open his chest and explore, flaying him alive as they lose themselves to their needs and lust. It is a quiet and all consuming thing. Wriothesley lies in the aftermath, sweat-slick and glowing, and it’s Neuvillette who tends to him, who combs his hair, who whispers the sort of sweet nothings found in books about lovers. 

Wriothesley enjoys reading, and he’s drawn to tragedies because that is all that he knows. This feels like romance, and he wonders if there is a good ending in store for a tired, broken-down, criminal-turned-knight like him.

That night, he sleeps in a soft bed plastered against another, a little too hot, hair in his mouth, but it’s home. It’s home.

Which is why the next morning Wriothesley swears an oath of old, sealed with his blood, and a bite mark against his shoulder. 

#

Wriothesley still cannot find it within himself to truly relax.

The bath does wonders to ease his bones, and pains and aches, but it’ll always be there, that flicker of awareness, that ever-present hyper awareness. Never sit with your back to the door. Sleep with one eye open. Lounge casually but always with a knife close enough for a quick grasp. Even as he sinks into the water, eyes slipping closed his ears strain for—

He jerks, eyes snapping open. “Oh,” he mutters, rubbing at his face, mildly embarrassed.

“Always at attention, aren’t you? What is the purpose of allowing you the use of my private bath if you’re wound so tightly?”

Wriothesley winces slightly. “It isn’t—”

“I tease, Wriothesley.” Neuvillette is usually so stiff and proper that seeing his mouth quirked into a subtle grin is still so… strange. It’s been years, at this point; years of watching that mouth learn how to emote properly and Wriothesley still finds it odd at times. Or, perhaps it’s because it’s directed at him. 

Neuvillette watches him for a long moment, standing there outside of the bath’s perimeter. He is dressed down as expected, for these are his personal baths, and Wriothesley allows himself to leer for a little too long, his gaze raking across the length of him.

“Wriothesley,” he starts, his tone dry.

“I’m just looking.”

Neuvillette’s expression tins with amusement. “Look all you want, but I will still ask—”

“If you can get in with me? The answer is yes.”

“—if you are alright.” Wriothesley stiffens. Neuvillette sees it and sighs. “If the recruits are still being a bother—”

“They aren’t,” reassures Wriothesley. He drags a hand down his face, rubbing at it. “I’m just tired, is all. You’ve seen the current reports, I’m sure.” Neuvillette’s expression falls. “Yeah, that. That’s how I feel.”

Neuvillette pads across the tiled floor quietly and shrugs off his robe, hanging it across the back of a chair. Wriothesley stares, unabashedly, as he steps into the pool, hissing softly at the heat of the water. And then he scowls. “Bath oils—”

“My bath time, my indulgences.” 

Wriothesley grins at the grimace on Neuvillette’s face. He’d prefer crisp, clean water—cool, even. He has only just begun to enjoy hot baths which are Wriothesley’s preference, but he still hasn’t come around to the bath oils. Soap, yes; Neuvillette enjoys being clean, and he lavishes his hair with the finest of shampoos and lathers, but the oils, he claims, cling to his skin. Which is the point, but Wriothesley has never bothered to argue much about it.

Neuvillette sinks into the water, his hair fanning out around him. Wriothesley’s arm opens up as he drifts closer, a silent invitation. Neuvillette notches against his side and relaxes entirely. 

“Bad day?” teases Wriothesley.

“Focalors…” Neuvillette pinches the bridge of his nose. “I am at my wit’s end with that woman. Her eccentricities have helped over the years, but it is to the point where she is hard to reel back. I’ve allowed her too much latitude. In the throne room today—”

“Oh, I heard.” Wriothesley lets out a long whistle. “It’s rare for Morax to pay visits to neighboring countries, but I’ve also heard that he’s pretty easy to get along with.” Neuvillette’s expression sours and Wriothesley’s eyebrows rise. “No?”

“He is—” Neuvillette shudders, his jaw tensing. “It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that she cannot make such rash decisions—”

“You always get to overrule them.”

“Yes, but there are some things that are not so easily adjusted without risking…”

Ah, yes, that, the elephant in the room. Wriothesley hums and tilts his face to press a kiss against Neuvillette’s temple. “I’m not saying that you should take your throne back, but—”

“But you are.”

“It’s a fantasy. It’ll make you feel better, imagining all the ways that you’d get to be in charge again.” Neuvillette snorts. “Really though,” continues Wriothesley, “Morax—”

“Must you call out the names of other dragons in my presence?”

Wriothesley gives him an amused glance. “Is this like when cats get all territorial?”

“No. I merely dislike having not only an Archon in my lands, but another—”

“So it is like a territorial cat-thing.” Neuvillette looses a long-suffering sigh and Wriothesley laughs. The bath is big enough to swim around slightly. He breaks away and floats to the side, turning to face Neuvillette properly. “How angry is Morax?”

“He is not… angry. But he is suspicious, and that is cause for concern. He is the oldest of the Archons, older than even I, and he is well-learned. Focalors was quick thinking in her response to his aide for help but I am unsure that we can risk the manpower. To fall back on such a lofty promise…”

Wriothesley hums. “We’ll figure it out.” He crosses the difference, leaning into Neuvillette’s space. “Do you want me to wash your hair? Pamper you a little?”

Neuvillette relaxes slightly, his shoulders losing their tension. “It is too late to have wet hair.”

“You can flick it away with a wave of your fingers.”

“Yes, but—” Neuvillette reaches out to grasp Wriothesley by the chin, and even now, years later, it makes him think of that night they first shared a kiss. “I would rather wash yours.”

“Scandalous,” says Wriothesley. “Unbecoming of an—” He pauses, looking around the room dramatically, and then whispers: “Emperor.”

“What’s more scandalous is his knight sharing his private bath.”

“Not his bed?”

“I do think that the servants are used to that.”

There is little use in hiding it anyhow. Mortals may not pay attention but the Melusines who attend to matters in the palace can see his claim all over Wriothesley. It’s amusing until Sigewinne sees him and turns up her nose. No, Wriothesley and Neuvillette are darlings of the court, which comes as a boon when masking the truth of Neuvillette’s nature. 

Neuvillette ducks close and presses a short, sweet kiss against Wriothesley’s mouth. “Allow me this indulgence,” he requests, politely as ever, and Wriothesley finds himself caving at that quiet, affectionate tone alone. 

Wriothesley turns his back to one person and one person alone. Neuvillette knows this vulnerability of his, and so he warns before he touches, and is gentle with every sweep of his fingers. He lathers the coarse strands of Wriothesley’s hair. His claws scrape against his scalp, dragging a soft moan from Wriothesley’s lips.

The pampering lulls him into a comfort found only in the arms of his mate. “I’m tired,” he says.

“I can tell.” Neuvillette’s hands travel down the length of Wriothesley’s neck and across his shoulders, squeezing at the muscle there. “You’re tense.” His hands are followed by a quick kiss, and then Neuvillette dumps a liter of Hydro over Wriothesley’s head.

Wriothesley yelps at the sharp sting of it. “Did it have to be cold?”

Neuvillette laughs against his temple before guiding him to dunk beneath that bath’s surface. When Wriothesley comes back up, an apology is already falling from his mouth. The tension is massaged away by those old and ancient hands. Neuvillette does not treat him like he is something broken to be fixed, or like glass threatening to crack. He treats him like a treasure to be loved with quiet praise whispered against his ear, and kisses down the back of his neck. 

He stills when he reaches the meat of Wriothesley’s left shoulder. His mark. That beloved thing that brands Wriothesley as his own. Neuvillette presses his face against that spot and inhales deeply before kissing it. Then he says, “The bath is getting cold.”

“You know these waters don’t cool.”

“I could cool them, then.” Neuvillette rests his chin in the crook of Wriothesley’s neck as his hand sneaks underneath Wriothesley’s arm. He drags his fingers through the water, making it dance in lazy circles. That one spot cools, and the cold begins to seep outwards.

“Sweetheart—” Wriothesley can feel the frown against his neck in response. “—if you want to retire to bed, you can ask.”

“I wish to have you in my bed,” says Neuvillette then, his voice dropping into a sultry baritone. “Were I permitted to do so.”

Oh. Oh. Always so polite even when he knows that Wriothesley wouldn’t dream of turning him down. Wriothesley turns around in his arms and shoots him an owlish grin. “Oh? Does the Emperor need his Consort?” A well-loved tease that makes Neuvillette’s rhinosphores tint with a subtle glow. “Is this old dragon aching and needy?”

“Wriothesley.”

They meet eagerly, like crashing waves, like the tide licking at the shore. Neuvillette tilts Wriothesley’s mouth against his, letting his forked tongue flick at the seam of his mouth. It is heated and passionate. Despite the late hour, and the tiredness of their bones, they suckle at each other's lips, tongues, teething, seeking out warmth. 

“Tea,” murmurs Neuvillette. “You taste like tea, you always—”

Wriothesley laughs against his mouth, combing through his hair before pulling away. “Out,” he says, tugging Neuvillette to the edge of the bath. 

And Neuvillette goes, like a moth drawn to a flame, looking at Wriothesley like he’s the whole damn sun.

#

They fall into the silk sheets damp and needy.

Neuvillette insists on taking care of him again, and Wriothesley chooses to let him. “A vision,” he says, hanging over him, regarding Wriothesley as if he’s hung the moon. He traces every inch of skin, every pock mark and scar that’s etched into his body. Neuvillette likens him to a canvas, a painting of learned experiences, of adventures, and he traces every moment with his tongue and teeth. 

And when he takes Wriothesley’s cock into his mouth, it’s graceless and with need, choking gently as he slides down the entire length, desperate to feel it against the back of his throat. Those hands wander again as he moans around him. His fingers dig into the meat of Wriothesley’s ass as Neuvillette presses his thighs back. 

He pulls off, suckling at the tip of Wriothesley’s cock, swirling that inhuman tongue around the crown like he’s savoring a delicacy. It’s nearly too much. Wriothesley arches in the bed and does his best to not force his cock deeper. Neuvillette smiles around him as he takes his cock back into his mouth, encouraging him in a way that he should definitely not.

A quick bob of Neuvillette’s head. That damned tongue of his slides against the underside, curling against sensitive nerves and driving Wriothesley mad. And then the heat of his mouth is gone as Neuvillette licks across his hole next, moaning at the way it twitches.

“That’s—that’s—”

Hydro makes the glide of a finger easy. Wriothesley bites at his lip, yielding easily, readily, forcing it deeper. Another slips in and Neuvillette purrs at how easily he opens, spreading his fingers wide, watching at how his rim swallows them deep. Then his tongue joins, lapping at his hole, suckling at it as Neuvillette eases him open, fucking Wriothesley on his fingers with a too-slow, too-languid pace.

“Neuvillette,” he cries, only for it to be ignored. 

Neuvillette maintains the lazy pace, scissoring his fingers open, prying him apart. Wriothesley is laid open and bare. He writhes in those sheets on one, two, three fingers, hissing out Neuvillette’s name in a plea to get a move on. 

Even now, he’s too empty. Wriothesley needs more than just his cock, he needs Neuvillette’s weight against him and those sweet praises pressed into his ear.

Neuvillette’s patience runs its course. He pulls those fingers out and Wriothesley groans at the loss. “Easy there. Take a breath.”

Wriothesley does as he’s asked, sucking in sweet, clean air as Neuvillette settles between his thighs properly. 

“Like this,” he says, hanging over Wriothesley. “I crave your closeness tonight.”

Yes, thinks Wriothesley. Yes, yes, yes. But, he always craves that closeness, regardless of what Neuvillette chooses to give him. Wriothesley is a needy, greedy thing, desperate to be suffocated by his warmth.

Neuvillette forgoes the Hydro and tips over a bottle of expensive oil into his hand, the smell of Romaritime Flowers filling the air. He sighs as he slicks his cock. Then, for good measure, Wriothesley’s loosened rim, his fingers dipping back into him for a second. 

His cock sinks in with one smooth, measured thrust. The cradle of his groin meets Wriothesley in a sickly sweet grind, and they both moan as they fall into each other. Wriothesley is deliciously full. Neuvillette’s cock carves its way home, sliding through his insides, dragging across that bundle of nerves with every eager stroke. 

He clings to him, holding Neuvillette close. Neuvillette more than indulges him, he leans into it, melting against Wriothesley’s heated, flushed skin. “Beloved,” he murmurs, their foreheads pressed together as they share words, praises, every breath that puffs between them.

Wriothesley will not last long. He didn’t realize how keyed up he was, how little it would take to drag him to the edge. He curses, trying to reel it in, trying to hold it back, but the pleasure is too sweet, too sharp. He arches, his cock twitching and aching. 

All the while Neuvillette praises him with sweet, soft, my beloved mate’s, you feel so good’s, and such a good boy’s. He drowns in him too. Neuvillette. He drinks up everything that Wriothesley gives him, pocketing that trust and giving it back with the full force of all his power.

That’s what the mark on Wriothesley’s neck means; it isn’t a one-sided blood oath but a promise between the two of them, steeped in the white-hot love that carves through his being.

Neuvillette thrusts into him suddenly, sharply, and Wriothesley comes untouched, going taut in the bed. He clamps down as all that pleasure in his gut releases, leaving him a mess. “Yes, yes—” And then he cries Neuvillette’s name, his given one, a gift that he’s only allowed to Wriothesley. This is the secret of all secrets, and Neuvillette’s breath hitches as Wriothesley tilts his face against his ear and begs for more with it.

A soft grunt. An exhalation of a name that isn’t Wriothesley, but something older, something nearly forgotten, something that said by anyone else would curdle the blood in his veins. Even with Neuvillette this name is rarely allowed but in that moment it’s perfect, wrapped in warmth, in comfort, in deep, heady arousal. 

Neuvillette comes after several unsteady thrusts. He grinds deep as he spills, claws pricking at Wriothesley’s thighs. 

Wriothesley is a mess in the sheets, his stomach coated with his spend. He whines softly, feeling Neuvillette’s cock begin to soften. 

“A moment.” Neuvillette’s lips brush his temple. “Allow me a moment as I clean you up.”

He could leave it. Wriothesley wouldn’t mind, loose-limbed and taffy-like in the bed. But Neuvillette would mind, so he sighs as he’s taken care of with gentle, sweeping touches. 

“We should have more political snafus,” says Wriothesley when he drifts back down from the heavens. Because if that is the result… well. He wouldn’t complain. 

Neuvillette has already slipped back underneath the covers and plastered himself against Wriothesley’s back. “I would rather not,” he says, but Wriothesley hears the humor that colors his words, and smiles into the covers. 

“Damage control tomorrow?”

“I do not relish the meeting I will have with her. You, however—”

“What about me?”

“Our dear, sweet Archon has promised Morax’s little guard dog a show of your prowess. You’re set to spar with him at noon.”

Wriothesley groans, burying his face into the pillow. But then, an idea. “Will you be there?”

Neuvillette smiles against his neck. “What better way to spend a mid-day water break than watching you show off your skill? Mhmn, yes, I think that I will attend and watch. And when you’re done, I’ll whisk you away—”

“For something untoward?”

“A tea break, as you like to call them.”

Oh, so definitely something untoward. Wriothesley knows Neuvillette and his tendencies of being hot and bothered under the collar. 

Teasing aside, it falls quiet. Neuvillette’s chest rumbles against Wriothesley’s back with a soft purr. “You’re thinking,” he says, gently probing.

Wriothesley thinks a lot. He thinks of the days of old and his present now. Once, he’d called himself fodder before a woman who wanted to mold him into something useful. Father has treated him well—but it is Neuvillette that has given him reason. 

Wriothesley doesn’t answer. Neuvillette doesn’t probe further, he just nuzzles at the mark on his shoulder, kissing it with a lingering touch. 

He may get that storybook romance, perhaps. Their ending isn’t yet written.

--

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[svtgg]

Star Gazing

Jun and Chae go on an incredibly late night walk.

pairing: chae x jun

genre: hurt/comfort, just a smidge angst

word count: 1k, short and sweet

warnings: alludes to Yun grieving, a stress breakdown of sorts

...

On most stressful days, Chae was usually tired enough to pass out after laying in bed. But with Yun on hiatus (and rightfully so, she would never be upset with her about that), and the rest of the members stressed out, trying to fill in the missing pieces of their comeback, Chae had grown restless.

It was maybe around 2 in the morning when Chae shoved her covers off of her, grabbed her phone, some headphones, and a hoodie, before leaving her shared room with Jeonghan as quietly as possible. 

Chae sighed to herself, struggling to put on her converse. She reached over to the wall to try to balance herself but misjudged how far she would have to extend her arm and ended up tripping over her own feet, landing on the mat by their front door. She winced at the brief moment of pain but went back to the task at hand.

Seventeen had many nightowls, so it wasn’t uncommon for someone to pull an allnighter. Jun, however, was one of their best sleepers, and was the last person Chae expected to be silently watching her putting her converse on from the kitchen. 

“How long have you just been standing there?”

Jun shrugs.

“You’ve been watching me the entire time?” Chae exasperatedly asks. “What are you even up for? Go to bed.”

Jun wishes that he was in bed, but for whatever reason, Seungkwan and Dino were both still up, watching youtube videos together and laughing their asses off. He had gotten up to grab a glass of water and was sipping on it when Chae walked past the kitchen. He could tell she was annoyed by how fast she was trying to get out the door but was still trying to decide if he should interrupt her moment or leave the kitchen without her noticing. 

He sets down his glass and walks over to Chae, “Couldn’t sleep. Where are you going?”

Chae yawns and she rubs her hands against her face before responding, “On a walk, I guess? Just want to clear my head.”

Jun nods understandingly and grabs a random jacket that was thrown on a nearby chair, “Cool, I’ll come with.”

“Jun, you really don’t have to.”

“I know. But I like making sure you’re safe and could probably use the walk myself, so we go together.”

…

The first ten minutes of their walk is in complete silence. Chae opts to not put on her headphones, instead enjoying the quietness of being outside when no one else was. There is a slight breeze blowing through her hair, not strong enough to make her feel chilly but it was still refreshing. She can tell that Jun was enjoying himself too, occasionally kicking a rock that is on their path or slowing down when he catches himself walking a little faster than Chae. 

Neither of them knew where they were going, but enjoyed the simplicity in just walking. They eventually end up in a park and sit at a bench facing a playground. 

“I’m glad-” Jun jumps in his seat at the suddenness of Chae’s voice interrupting their silence and Chae laughs at him.

“I’m glad you came with me.”

“Yea?”

“Yea.” Jun looks over at Chae, she is sitting with her head leaned back so that she’s looking at the sky and her butt is at the edge of the bench. “I like looking at the stars with you.” The gentleness in her voice is endearing to Jun and he can’t help but copy her position and gaze at the stars as well.

Chae lifts her arm and points at what Jun can only assume is a star.

“That’s you.” She says before moving her finger over a little bit, “And that's Myungho. And Nix. And Edyth, and Seungkwan, and Wonwoo, and Dk, and Cheol, and Dino, and Yun, and Mingyu, and Woozi, and Hoshi, and Jeonghan, and Vernon, and Josh.”

Her hand drops, but Jun is quick to grab it and pointing it at a very specific star, “And that's you. You're our North Star, Chae. You tell us where to go when we get lost. You light the way.”

Chae pulls her hand away from Jun and sits up. Jun once again mirrors her, and realizes that Chae is now crying softly. She uses her hands to cover her face and doesn’t let Jun pull them away. Instead, he tosses an arm over her shoulder and pulls her until she’s leaning into him.

“What if,” Chae sniffles, “What if I don’t know where to go anymore? What if I don’t know how to help?”

Jun uses the hand that isn’t wrapped around Chae to smooth out her hair. “You don’t need to know how to help all of the time, Chae. Sometimes, just knowing that you are there with us, offering comfort, is enough. You are more than enough.”

Chae cries a little bit harder and Jun hugs her a little bit tighter.

“Don’t forget that you’re a star like the rest of us, okay? And we want to help you too.” Jun feels Chae nod her head against his shoulder. 

The two go back to enjoying each other's presence in silence. Until Jun notices that Chae is starting to fall asleep on top of him. He nudges her a little bit and Chae jerks awake.

“We should head back.” Jun says.

Chae nods in agreement. She lets Jun hold her hand and pull her away from the bench. He holds her hand the entire walk back to the dorms and even helps her untie her shoelaces when they make it back.

Before entering her room, Chae glances at Jun, who is watching her from his own door to his room. 

She leans in his direction and whispers, “Thanks, Jun.”

He leans toward her too, “No problem, Chae.”

The two smile at each other one last time before entering their rooms and going to sleep.

[tangent101]

The bullies just targeted me. There was no reason for it. 9 year old me was dragged up a hill by four of them and thrown off of it onto rocks below. I never heard if any of them got punished for it. I had older kids calling me "Bruce" on the playground which was shorthand for "gay" in the early 80s.

When I went to college I was petrified of homosexuality. I was sure that it was spread by playing with dolls or the like and that I should not associate with them. And gradually I had those fears dispelled one by one.

Until finally in my late 40s I had my egg cracked and learned I was transgender (and Ace and Lesbian, or what was once described as a bambi lesbian). And so much made sense at that point. But the hatred, the fear... I was already bullied horrifically just for being one of the weird kids that they sensed was off. If I had been openly trans? I'm willing to bet I'd have ended up having a tragic accident.

The kicker is that I grew up in New England, not the deep South. You think of this region as extremely liberal. But so much hate and fear of the Other (called Communists and Gays and the like) was out there that you hid that part of yourself... or never knew it existed.

I graduated high school in 99.

There was a student at our school named Wayne.

Wayne was gay. It was obvious. He was unable to stay in the closet even if he wanted to. To make matters worse, he was also Black. From a bullying standpoint, that was not a great combo. Both Black and white students made fun of him relentlessly. He was ostracized from the only community that may have given him protection. Only us theater kids stuck up for him, but not to significant effect.

Wayne was bullied so much that at one point he finally snapped and attacked his bullies with a lunch tray. I was actually seated in perfect line of sight and just sat there chewing my soggy fries in stunned silence. It didn't even seem real as I was witnessing it. The image of him wailing on his main bully as the food on his tray flew off is permanently logged into my long term memory.

The bully he attacked had blood all over his face and went straight to the nurse. Other than superficial cuts, he was not injured.

Before the attack, Wayne went to teachers for help. He went to guidance counselors for help. He went to the principals for help.

He did all of the things you were supposed to do. No one helped him. They wagged a finger at the bullies and warned them to stop.

Wayne's lunch tray melee was the only thing that worked. His bullies stayed far away from him. But a week later Wayne was expelled and the bullies were given no punishment.

So... no.

No one in my school talked about being trans.

Because the only way to survive being openly queer was to bash people with a lunch tray.

[tekerproto]

The Story of the Hulstrom Civil War

To celebrate the anniversary of the Civil War at my middle school, I have decided to preserve the war and the outcome of it for generations to come.

August 16th, 2017 - I've started the 7th grade and am at recess. With my friend group that was preserved between the transition from small tweens to large tweens, I have formed a confederacy of the other surviving groups. We establish smooth rocks as our currency, imperialist fascism (I was in that phase, don't judge me, I'm better now) as our ideology, and use larger rocks and wet sand to build buildings. For the first semester, all goes well. Then, suddenly:

February 8th, 2018 - The Hulstrom Commune is established by a group of kids that got bored and read the Communist Manifesto in history. They quickly gain popularity and soon, establish their own nation. Inspired by this, two more nations are established: The Islamic Emirate of Hulstrom, and the Socialist Republic of Hulstrom. About a week after this, they start a civil war when they capture our capital city of Strayerburg. So, here are the sides:

Hulstrom Reich

VS -

Islamic Emirate of Hulstrom Socialist Republic of Hulstrom

VS -

The Hulstrom Commune

March 16th, 2018 - During a celebration of the 8 month anniversary of our confederacies founding, the Socialist Republic of Hulstrom takes one of our settlements in the field and converts it to one of their own. In retaliation, we start making thick ropes and whips out of the tall grass in the dry field. Also, the currency of smooth rocks is collapsing because some kid got a rock tumbler and produced over 10 FUCKING POUNDS OF ROCKS. THIS BASTARD MADE WHAT WOULD BE WORTH $10,000 INTO $5.

March 20th, 2018 - A day that shall be remembered in Hulstrom History. A three day siege begins on the new capital of Trivediburg, fueled by aggression from all sides. During the first day, another 25 pounds of smooth rocks are distributed, they had been made over the span of five days. Multiple sharpened sticks are thrown/ launched at the flag that we flew.

March 21st, 2018 - All territory that we had abandoned in favor of our capital is now controlled by either three sides. An offensive from the Hulstrom Commune fails due to a monitor stopping it before it could happen, more rocks are distributed because another five kids had bought tumblers and used them to revalue our currency even more.

March 22nd, 2018 - Surrounded, outsticked, outgeneraled, and outpersonaled, we decide to make the only logical move; we pull the equivalent of an HOI4 last stand and hold the city for another five hours (and, in doing so, all get very deserved phone calls home). By the time the clock strikes 5:00 pm, the walls of the city fall. After realizing that non of our buildings were anchored to the ground, nearly all of the city is quickly moved to the capitals of the Islamic Emirate of Hulstrom, the Socialist Republic of Hulstrom, and the Hulstrom Commune. Except for one, the so-called "Hulstrom Reichstag," this building was pushed by our troops to the southwest corner of the field, to the point where the entrance was facing a neighboring property. The windows were boarded up, and everyone was ordered to jump the fence and hope inside the Hulstrom Reichstag. Eventually, a crack was formed in one of the rocks that was used to build the thing, and it was quickly pulled into the capital of the Hulstrom Commune, Olivagrad. The doors were busted down, but my offices' door stayed sealed. That was until an emo kid broke down the door with a rock. I surrendered and was exiled to the Kindergarten Playground.

By April 1st, we had reached a peace treaty and all of our lands were split amongst the Socialist Republic of Hulstrom and the Hulstrom Commune. As for the Islamic Emirate of Hulstrom, they agreed to only possess land that we did not possess. And, by the time I was in the 8th grade, I had given up on fascism and actually became president of the newly formed United Socialist Cantons of Hulstrom. What has happened after I left, I do not know. But I do know that around 2019, the Hulstrom Reichstag was dismantled and returned to the school's rock pile.

[sightoru]

—𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 (𝐈'𝐦 𝐈𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮)

✩pairing: Villain!Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader

✩genre:smut, dark content.

✩word count: 3.5k

✩warnings: 18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, predator/prey, noncon to dubcon (tagging both), a lot of heroes are mentioned as dead pour one out for them, dacryphilia, praise kink, fingering, unprotected sex, stalking, cum play, slight breeding, apocalyptic au.

✩authors note: repost from my old blog @/izuushi. title credit is: Let Me Call You Sweetheart by Bing Crosby 

✩excerpt: 

“Oh!” Verdant eyes meet yours as he stalks circles around you, as if inspecting you. “That’s so exciting I’m so glad I don’t have to introduce myself! Apparently my reputation precedes me. Always a nice thing to hear.” He places his hands on your shoulder, eyes bright and gleaming in the last few rays of the sunset. His fingers trace down your cheek and you shiver at the touch. He leans in close to your ear, his breath hot on your face and whispers, “I’ve been so bored lately, do you wanna play a game, doll?”

Hero society had collapsed months ago, and along with it: hope.

The society was flimsy like a house made of glass; as soon as the first rock was thrown at it, it wasn’t hard to tear down. The first rock was when the Hero Commission was exposed for the greedy pigs they were, easily allowing Shigaraki and his League of Villains to grow massively in size; the second one was when the Symbol of Peace, AllMight died; the third was when Number One pro-hero Deku stepped down, announcing he was joining the villains and killed a swath of heroes after doing so. Endeavor, Best Jeanist, Miruko, Hawks, and others were killed the day he went on a rampage and cursed Hero Society and all it ever stood for.

Some think that AllMight’s death was more than he could bear and that it shattered his thin resolve. Some think that it was Deku’s plan all along, to climb to the top and tear it all down. The rest don’t care why or how he became this way: they just know that he’s the reason they can no longer sleep at night.

Civilization as you knew it had ended almost a year ago, the city reduced to rubble and ash, the shell of the place you grew up. No more hospitals or schools; society was driven practically underground as people attempted to create a new normal. You’re part of a group along with a few others that make runs to savange, treating cans of food as if they’re gold as you carried them back home; it’s awful and different than how things used to be but you all made it work and that’s all that really matters to you.

Streets are eerily quiet, playgrounds are haunted by rusted out jungle gyms instead of the screams of children; shopping mall parking lots are graveyards of once smooth pavement and weeds; abandoned department stores littered the town, the windows broken from the looting that happened when society started to crumble and a direct cause of the food shortage that’s plaguing your fellow citizens.

On the bright side, food runs meant days spent outside of the dark, and abandoned hospital basement; you always tried to be positive about it, telling yourself it’s home despite the moldy smell that clung to your nose and clothing. And even better than food run days? Days spent outside with Hitoshi Shinso.

Hitoshi might be the best thing that’s happened to you since the fall of hero society. You always had a small crush on him, his lavender hair and no bullshit attitude have been alluring to you since the first day you met him; one on one time with Hitoshi is a gift as far as you’re concerned, and food runs were always filled with him making you laugh until you felt like you were gonna burst at the seams. Love was building between the two of you, both of you too shy to bring it up; both realizing how dangerous it is to say something about it in a world where you’re not guaranteed tomorrow. It’s getting harder and harder to resist him though, your knuckles brushing against his as you walk with him; the way his smile clears the cobwebs of your heart and how it warms you down to your bones. Hitoshi made you feel safe, looking into buildings before letting you anywhere near them and never letting you leave his side. At times you felt burdensome to him, but he always gave you that same smile as he insisted he knows you can take care of yourself but he’s just doing everything in his power to keep you safe.

As much as you love him, this constant insistence from not only Hitoshi but your parents as well, to keep you safe was infuriating. So this morning, when you were informed to stay in because Hitoshi had caught a cold, you decided the best way to prove you don’t need to be protected was to go scavenge for Hitoshi’s cold medicine on your own. You decided to wait until sunset, knowing that Denki and Shouto would be going to you and Hitoshi’s place earlier in the morning; this decision was also made when you realized it’s been so long since you’ve seen a sunset.

It wasn’t too hard to sneak out of the base that evening, deciding the best time to leave would be when everyone was preoccupied with dinner. It’s exhilarating being out in the world, you can almost pretend that everythings how it used to be. That maybe someone in your life is sick and all you have to do is make a quick trip to the store, easily finding whatever your loved one needs so you can easily nurse them back to health.

It’s nice like this, just you and the cool evening air caressing your skin as you pretend everything’s the same that it was a year ago. Somewhere between the fall of the Hero Commission and AllMight’s death; it was scary, but at least there was hope that things could turn out okay. But when Deku rose to number one hero, only to sink to number one villain within weeks, hope was extinguished as quickly as you found it.

You know the way to the abandoned pharmacy quite well, having been there several times for odds and ends things such as menstrual products, painkillers and bandages. You hope you’ll find something, despite going there several times and cleaning the place out of everything it has.

You feel like you struck gold when you find the bottle of cold and flu medicine hidden under a shelving unit; cradling it in your hands like it’s all the proof you need to show your ability to take care of yourself. You stash the pills neatly into your backpack, cherishing your victory. It’s almost sunset when you leave the building, the last of the sun's rays turning the clouds a beautiful shade of pink. You’re wondering if there's a better place to watch it before your eyes fixate on an abandoned factory nearby; it’s at least 3 stories high, windows smashed out or boarded up. It’s eerie as you stare at it, sending goosebumps across your body. You shake off the thought, most of the buildings around here are creepy looking.

You practically sprint to the building, giggles bubbling up from your throat as you rush to beat the sunset. You’re nostalgic as you run, dreaming and daring to think that maybe there will be a day like this again; a day where you can run towards the sun with everything you have and not worry about being a burdensome thing that others have to keep safe. You climb up the rusted fire escapes on the side of the building, not wanting to waste time exploring the inside of it.

You make it to the roof of the building just in time, sitting on the ledge of it; fascinated at how the sun hits the clouds and makes them all look a beautiful shade of raspberry-orange sherbert; they look like pulled apart strands of cotton candy, lazily moving across the sky. It’s easy like this, the past year and how much has changed being the last thing on your mind as the sun dips lower and lower beneath the horizon.

“Oh?” You hear a cheeky voice behind you. You turn towards it, blood running cold at the man on the other side of the roof, not expecting anyone to run into you here; he’s handsome, curly green hair slicked back and styled, a constellation of freckles splattered across his nose and cheeks. He’s well built but lean, white button up shirt that’s impressively clean, tailored black slacks and black gloves on both his hands. It takes you a moment but you recognize him: Deku. “What’s this?” he chuckles, walking towards you with all the glee of a child being offered candy.

“D-Deku?” You step off the ledge and attempt to run but he’s faster than you, face to face with you in moments.

“Oh!” Verdant eyes meet yours as he stalks circles around you, as if inspecting you. “That’s so exciting I’m so glad I don’t have to introduce myself! Apparently my reputation precedes me. Always a nice thing to hear.” He places his hands on your shoulder, eyes bright and gleaming in the last few rays of the sunset. His fingers trace down your cheek and you shiver at the touch. He leans in close to your ear, his breath hot on your face and whispers, “I’ve been so bored lately, do you wanna play a game, doll?”

You stare at him in bewilderment, wondering what he’s getting at by playing a game with you? He’s sick, completely unhinged and everything you’ve heard about him is true. He reeks of an aura that couldn’t care less about you, like a cat playing with a mouse before he devours it. He’s behind you now, fingertips tracing down your sides and making you shiver. He leans his head against yours, the curls of his hair tickling your cheek. “C’mon, doll. Hey listen if you win, I won’t go visit you and your purple haired friend! The hospital on 7th street- or I suppose what used to be 7th street- in the basement, right? You’re so pretty, I’ve been watching you for a while now.” His hands tighten down on your hips as he drags his nose along your neck, letting out a small chuckling sigh.

You can’t breathe for a moment, the only thing plaguing your mind is the thought of anything happening to Hitoshi, and that it’s your own fault for being stubborn and insistent; the reality of your own idiocy rolling over you in waves. You take a stuttering breath, failing to keep the fear out of your voice “What kind of game?”

“Hmmmm…..” Deku steps in front of you, tapping his chin dramatically in thought. “I know! What about hide-n-seek? It was my favorite growing up, I used to play it with Kacchan all the time before I killed him!” It’s sickening to you, how casually he says all this as if it’s normal conversation, laughing and giggling as if you made some sort of joke. It makes your stomach turn, bile rising in your core. “If you can make it 20 minutes, I’ll let you go! But if you can’t make it, you’re all mine. All of the building is fair game, but if you leave I’ll kill you instantly. I’ll even be nice and give you a 2 minute head start, that’s more than fair don’cha think, doll?” You don’t move, just continuing to stare at him as you try to register what you’re all mine could possibly entail for you. He checks an imaginary watch on his wrist “Time’s a’ tickin’, sweetheart. Better get moving.”

You run, already panting and breathless, hopping onto the fire escape and ducking into a broken window on the top floor, the glass cutting into your skin. You trip as you land, scuffing your palms but you don’t notice or care. You’re desperate, your mind moving a mile a minute trying to rack your brain to think, think, think goddammit, of somewhere to hide. It’s no guarantee anyways, who knows if Deku will keep his word but you have to try at least.

“Ready or not, here I come~!” Breaks the silence, followed by a laugh that’s nothing short of maniacal. You sprint down the hallway, throwing open the heavy door and running down the stairs to the second story, ducking into the first room you can find. It’s full of metal desks, toppled over and papers strewn over the room like a tornado ripped through it. You duck behind a toppled bookshelf against the wall and wait for him to pass. You almost move, cursing internally when you realize that you’re cornerned if he finds you.

You hear the metal door slam, and Deku’s feet practically skip down the stairs, taking slow and methodical steps down the hallway. There’s no way you can safely move now, hearing the click of his shoes much too close to you. You hold your breath, making yourself as small as possible between the wall and the bookshelf. His steps get quieter and quieter, fading down the hallway before you hear a door slam.

There’s no telling if he went up or down, or if he even went down the stairs at all; he could just be on the other side of the door waiting for you to peak out. You carefully walk out from behind the bookshelf, carefully peering over the door frame. You’re trying to figure out whether to go up or down, deciding it’s not smart to use the stairs since there’s no telling if he actually went up or down them. You duck back into the room, opting to use the fire escape to take you down to the first floor. It’ll be easier, you think, to leave if you’re on the ground floor.

You almost trip on the rusted ladder, making a small yelp before you can catch yourself. Fuck, you hope he didn’t hear that. You shimmy your body into a broken window on the first floor, eyes moving frantically in an effort to find somewhere to hide. You pass by a locker room, debating on hiding in a locker before you realize that you probably won’t fit like you did when you were a kid, and what if you go stuck? No way in hell Deku will help you out of that situation.

“You’re doing so good, doll! Only 10 minutes left!” He bangs on something metal in an effort to get you to cry out and let him know where you are; you can’t tell where it’s coming from but you know it’s close. You barely hold back a sob, biting your tongue to force yourself silent.

You keep running down the hallway, ducking into a cafeteria and running behind the counter. You curse internally again, realizing it’s another dead. You’re about to find somewhere else better go hide, before you hear the metal door of the stairwell open and slam.

“Shit!” You mutter under your breath as you duck into a cabinet, curling your body up and hiding there. You do your best to close it carefully, but it’s so loud when it closes that you debate for a moment to give yourself up right there.

“Sweetheart~” you hear him softly call out, his footsteps echoing off the linolum of the cafeteria; you throw your hand over your mouth, desperately trying to keep silent. “I know you’re around here somewhere.” He sounds excited, you both know you’re fucked; know there’s no way in hell you’re getting out of this. You wonder for a moment if he’ll show mercy if you just come out now and beg for it. The sick fuck would probably enjoy that.

You hear him start to sing loudly; belting out at the top of his lungs. "Let me call you sweetheart!" He laughs. "I'm in love with you!" You hear him kick a table over. "Let me hear you whisper, that you love me too!"

He stops suddenly, drowning you in silence. You let out a breath. He starts singing again. "Keep the love light glowing, in your eyes so true!" He's quieter now; closer to you. You're afraid he knows where you are. Why else would he make his voice quieter? "Let me call you sweetheart, I'm in love with you!" You hear his voice trail off again and you rest your head back against the cabinet.

“Found you!” Deku laughs, roughly grabbing you by the arm and dragging you out of the cupboard. “Oh dollface, that was so fun! You were doing so good too! You only had 5 minutes left to go!” You sob as he practically tosses you on the cold, metal prep table in the kitchen. “Now… What was the deal again? Oh that’s right. You’re all mine.”

“No, please! Please let me go, I’m so sorry.” You splutter at him. He just grins at you, grass colored eyes drinking up your figure as his hands caress you softly. You hate how your skin leaves a trail of pebbles as he moves his hands; how gentle he feels despite how hungry and desperate his eyes look. His hand slips under your shirt, kneading the soft skin of your breasts as his thumbs glide gently over your nipples.

He coaxes your shirt off, soft clicking sound coming from his lips as he does. “Sit back and take a breath, sweetheart. Let me take care of you after all, you’re mine now right?” He sucks gently on your breast, his other hand holding your hip in a brutal grip. He pulls back with a pop sound, moving his lips up your chest and leaving purple marks. You close your eyes, trying to pretend it’s Hitoshi instead or anyone else but Deku bites down on your neck hard enough to break skin. “Eyes open for me, doll.” You make eye contact with him, your eyes swimming with unshed tears as he pulls off his gloves. He maintains your gaze, unbuttoning your pants and pulling them down. He runs his finger along your folds, moving your slick around. “You’re saturated for me, baby. You sure you don’t actually want this.”

You shake your head, choking on a sob as tears stream down your face. He places two fingers into your pussy, kissing along your jaw as he moves inside of you. You moan lightly in his ear when he finds that perfect spot, hating the squelching sounds coming from you; how greedily your cunt sucks him in and even how much you’re liking it as he expertly hits that sweet spot in you over and over again.

“What a good girl, such a good girl.” He coos in your ear, bringing his thumb up and running small, tight circles around your clit. You gasp again, gripping his shoulders and fisting the fabric of his shirt. “Cum on my fingers ok? Just like the good girl I know you are.” You tremble, orgasm building up and washing over you in waves; your whole body spasming as your essense drips onto the metal table underneath you. You whimper softly as Deku rides you through it, whispering praises into your ear.

You feel strangely empty when his fingers pull out of you, letting out a whine at their absence. You watch him, fucked out and dazed as he takes his pants off; his cock pretty and erect as he pumps it in his hand. Reddish-pink tip and veins running down the underside of it, an intimidating girth, pre bubbling from the top. You close your legs, remembering you’re supposed to hate this.

“Oh, come on doll.” He grins at you, sticking his fingers in his mouth and lewdly sucking your essence off with a low groan. “I promise this won’t be so bad. Relax ok~?” He leans into your ear, cock hard and pressing against your thigh. “I’m an excellent lover, don’t ya know?” He lines himself with your entrance, pushing himself in with a small hiss. “God, you feel even better than I dreamed.” He’s gentle with you at first, relishing all the small babbles that come out of your mouth, rubbing his cockhead against your g-spot as you squirm under him. He builds speed slowly, the only sounds in the room are his balls slapping your ass, the wet sounds of your cunt and the grunts escaping his lips.

“D-Deku!” You cry at him, fresh tears falling from your eyes. “s’too big.”

“Shhh… baby it’s okay, I know you can do it! You’re a good girl right?” He murmurs in your ear. You nod, not sure why you’re nodding or when you decided to like this and he smiles at you, sickly sweet as he cups your cheek. “Look at you, doll. Look how pretty you are while I fuck you, your pussy feels so good around me, baby. You’re perfect, you know that?” You groan a little, resting your head on his shoulder as his cock kisses your cervix, desperate to get into your cunt as deep as possible as he snakes a hand between your connected bodies; hand clumsy but efficient as he thumbs your clit again, pushing you to climax. “That’s it princess, cum on my cock.” He sighs in your mouth, his own orgasm impending. You both cum together, your pussy tightening around him as cum fills your insides.

He pulls out of you with a sigh, as the realization of what just happened hits you. He takes two of his fingers, shoving his cum back inside you as he mutters something about not wasting a drop. He’s soft, gingerly dressing you before he even dresses himself while you just cry silently.

“It’s okay, don’t worry.” He whispers, gently wrapping his arms around your shaking body. “I found you, and now you’re mine forever.”

[beautifulblooms]

I had this idea, but I don’t write, but you write and have no idea so…

What about Eddie Munson with a m!reader that’s into rock and plays drums but he doesn’t know it(this is important later)

So they are friends for a while, and reader dresses and acts nice like “formal and decent person”( you know the last person on earth that would play a loud not classic instrument) , hangs around with his dnd friends, crushing on each other, and at some point he mentions to Eddie that he enjoys rock music, he kind of forgets it until reader invites him over to his house for the first time and decides to arrive a little early or something. We know the drill. He bangs on the door, no one opens, let’s himself in and hears “rebel yell” by billy idol blasting from a room and when he gets in the reader is playing the drums while singing his hart into the song ( at the 3 minute mark of the song it gets a little calm and then back again strong well that’s the part we’re Eddie enters the room) ( also the reader could be looking at a picture of Eddie and him or some note/ gift from Eddie) (instead of saying “she” the reader sings “he” to refer it like Eddie) he interrupts reader admits his feelings or something it’s up to you

First request ever and is awfully specific so put and take away what ever you like. I will love you the rest of my life if you actually do it. :)

What a Surprise That Was - Eddie Munson x Male!Reader

Male!Reader, he/him used, I love this idea and I definitely had a fun time writing it, rebel yell is a fantastic choice for a song fic and this turned out better than I originally planned. Hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

CIS Women and Female Aligned people, please DNI, this story and all of my others are for non-binary, masculine aligned and male readers!

Tags: @qthetherapist, @rlmt1, @eddieverse, @alexs-playground

Sitting down at the table I noticed that Eddie wasn’t there yet, which was really strange considering he was usually the first to “claim the table”. 

“Hey Gareth, have you seen Ed’s?” Pulling out a textbook I felt like taking the extra opportunity to study for my classes.

“Uh yeah I’m pretty sure he’s in O’Donnell’s before lunch, saw him go in for third period, why?” If he’s in there who knows what she’s saying to him, she’s never been kind to kids who had to retake her class.

“Just a little worried why he wasn’t here first, that’s all.” I didn’t like that the attention was on me so I tried to go back to focusing on the textbook in front of me. Right as I was turning the page to move onto another section a bag was thrown down on the table next to me scaring the shit out of me. I glanced over to it, Eddie’s bag, looking further up I saw him sit down with an angry pout.

“O’Donnell is riding my ass to pass her class, which wouldn’t be a problem if I wasn’t army crawling myself to a D already. I’m fucked if she doesn’t get off my back.” Leaning back in his chair he let out a groan and covered his eyes, then an idea popped into my head.

“What if I tutor you?” He sprung back to look me dead in the eyes and they almost seemed to sparkle.

“Are you serious? That would be the biggest fucking help right now!” He almost yelled, getting a couple of glances from other tables. 

“Sure why not, you can just come over to my house later tonight to start if you want.” Shrugging my shoulders I snagged a notebook from my bag, tore out a sheet and wrote my address on it before handing it to Eddie. “Just show up around 5, if that works for you.” He still looked astonished that I had even offered to tutor him, let alone at my house.

“Of course, I’ll be there, thanks pretty boy.” My eyes widened and it was my turn to be shocked, definitely didn’t expect to be called pretty. Without even trying I went about the rest of my day thinking about how he called me a pretty boy. I kinda wished he called me his pretty boy…WHAT AM I THINKING ABOUT HE’S MY FRIEND, he’s my friend and im tutoring him, I can’t be thinking like this. I just need to make it through the day, get home, put on some comfortable clothes and calm down before Eddie gets there. And that’s exactly what I did, finished up dealing with my classes, got in my car and drove home as fast as the speed limits allowed me, I needed to calm down. What’s a better way to calm down than blasting music in my room and playing along with it, cause I haven’t found anything else that does the trick. 

“Hey kiddo, how was school?” My mom called from the kitchen, guess she was prepping dinner.

“Uh it was fine, I have a friend coming over later that I’m tutoring, he should be around 5, if he knocks will you let him in?” I wandered into the kitchen and stood across from her at the kitchen island. 

“Sure, what does he look like, I don’t want to let a random person in.” Now how do I say this without mentioning he’s a full grown man repeating senior year, got it.

“About 5’10, long dark hair, it’s curly, usually in a leather jacket with a sleeveless jean jacket over it, baggy jeans, he drives a black van.” I really hope I did my best to not add anything that would give away how much I liked him, she doesn’t need to know that. 

“Aright, I’ll send him up to your room when he gets here.” She smiled gently at me, it felt almost too knowing of what was happening in my head.

“Thanks mom, I’ll be playing my drums until he gets here.” Turning around I ran up the stairs skipping a step as I tried to get to my room quickly. Throwing the door open I tossed my bag on my bed, won’t be needing that for a little. The clock on my nightstand read 4:15, leaving me about 45 minutes to have fun before Eddie gets here. Taking off the stiff, good school boy outfit I had grown to use for school so no one would think of me less I threw on a pair of sweats and a Van Halen shirt. I snagged my sticks out of the paint bucket I kept them in, sure I could’ve used something nicer but it just felt right to reuse something instead of just throwing it away. Standing upright I put a cassette tape into the stereo next to the bucket that had most of my favorite songs, cranking the volume up I started to nod along to the rhythm and moved to my drums. Pulling the seat back slightly I sat down and waited a second to pick up the beat from the song before playing along. A little bit later one of the songs I had practiced the most came on; Rebel Yell by Billy Idol. Drumming along to the beat a little more enthusiastically I sang along with it.

“Last night a little dancer, he came dancing to my door. Last night, that little angel, he came pumping on my floor. He said, "Come on, baby, you got a license for love and if it expires, I pray help from above.” Without paying attention I changed the pronouns to “he”, thinking of Eddie before glancing up at the wall behind my bed where a few pictures of us sat, some random things he’d gotten me lying about my dresser too.Continuing to sing I didn’t even notice that someone had knocked on the front door, let alone it opening. 

“Hi I’m here to study with (y/n), he’s supposed to be tutoring me.” Eddie shyly told my mom, she beamed at him with a loving smile. 

“Come on in, he’s playing his drums right now but just head up the steps and I’m sure you can find his room.” She closed the door behind him and pointed to the stairs leading to the second floor. Starting his way up the stairs he heard me singing. 

“I walked the ward for you, babe a thousand miles for you. Now who dried my tears of pain, babe? A million times for you, for you, I'd sell my soul for you, babe.” Almost immediately he recognized the familiar music, really surprised I knew any of it.

“What's money to burn for you, for you I'd give you all, and have none, babe justa, justa have you here by me, Because. In the midnight hour he cried more, more, more. With a rebel yell he cried more, more, more, yow!” Standing in the doorway to observe me playing Eddie wanted to say something, anything but didn’t dare interrupt me having the time of my life. 

“In the midnight hour, babe, more, more, more with a rebel yell more. More, more, more! Ooh yeah, my little dancer. He want more, more, more, more, more. More, more, more, more. He want more, more, more, more, more, yeah!” Finishing up the song I sat still for a second catching my breath before standing up to turn the stereo down. 

“That was incredible and the most surprising thing I have ever seen from you (L/n). Truly didn’t expect you to be a drummer, and you’re real good at it.” Eddie finally spoke while I was throwing my sticks back into their paint bucket. I shot up to look at him, how long had he been there, what did he hear, fuck fuck fuck, I didn’t think this is how he would find out. 

“Um, hey Ed’s, when did you get here?” I couldn’t force myself to move, wanting to just cower into a ball and pray he hadn’t heard me change ‘she’ to ‘he’ in the song. “About halfway through that awesome performance of Rebel Yell, and I meant to ask you something about it, the lyrics are about a girl, so why were you saying ‘he’?” So he did notice, I guess it’s now or never.

“Because I didn’t want to sing about a girl when I don’t like a girl…” I was quieter than I expected to be, Eddie stepped into the room and closer to me. “If you don’t like a girl, who do you like?” He didn’t sound angry, he didn’t sound anything, his tone was so neutral that I couldn’t tell how he was gonna react to what I said. Taking a deep breath I gathered all my courage to answer him.

“You, I like you Eddie Munson, you’re the one I was singing about.” Looking up his eyes were wide and he was close to me, shit, I just fucked everything up, I should’ve have said anything. “Um, you can leave if you don’t want me to tutor you anym-” Cutting me off Eddie grabbed my face and pulled me into a kiss, I was too stunned to kiss back. He pulled away thinking he pushed a boundary only for me to put my hands around his neck and pull him into another kiss, longer and much more breathtaking. Pulling away to breathe we started into each other's eyes, his were blown wide, pupils dilated beyond anything they had been before. 

“I’m so happy that you were singing about me, I might’ve gone crazy if I didn’t get to do that soon.” He leaned down to give me a chast kiss before letting go and sitting on my bed. “So are we gonna start the tutoring session or not, I need to pass O’Donnell and I’d love to graduate with my new boyfriend.” Joining him I bumped my shoulder with his.

“Boyfriend, really?” He looked a little scared like he shouldn’t have said that. 

“I uh, o-only if you want that is.” I chuckled at his nervous behaviour before kissing him to calm down his nerves. 

“I love it.”

[ionlylikemycat]

i’m sure anon had fine intentions, but As A Secular Jew this question made me kinda angry in the way that it’s steeped in christian hegemony (yeah i know i’m on that again oh well)

judaism is an ethnoreligion, making it both and neither just an ethnicity or just a religion. which seems to confuse people! especially christians who don’t understand religion being about more than belief in god and holy observance

my father wasn’t ‘born christian’. he was forced to go to church as a kid, hated it, and stopped going as soon as he could. we are not a half christian family, bc being christian Isn’t a part of my father’s identity or who he is as a person. did the church have a lasting influence? probably, but so did growing up in the 60’s, parents are a mixed bag

my judaism has nothing to do with my feelings on religion or what happens when you die. belief, faith, god, none of that is important to me. i’ve been to services maybe ten times in twice as many years. i don’t keep kosher i don’t fast i don’t cover my hair i don’t dress modest i don’t know all the stories of the talmud i don’t even know most of them. and none of that matters. none of that makes me any less jewish. nor would it make me more jewish to do so. bc judaism is in part A Choice

and bc judaism is also an ethnicity, you can test for it. literally, you can steal my blood and send it to a lab and the scientist will say good job blood thief! you found a 50% ashkenazi jew. does that test make me more jewish than non ethnic jews? no, bc blood quantum is a lie, and bc like so many things christian hegemony tries to put in a little box that looks just like their box, this Requires Nuance

i resent the idea that my secular observation of religion would ever make me any less jewish. it is a core tenant of who i am. of my history of my family of what matters to me. it shaped my understanding of who i am in this world and how i want to be in this world. it’s core to my personal history and to my family’s history. not being religious certainly hasn’t saved me from being threatened because of my religion. my babi was raised orthodox and i was raised secular, but we both got rocks thrown at us or been called dirty jews on the playground

you don’t need to believe in god to be a jew, it’s not even actually a requirement of any sect of judaism. secular jews are not people who don’t care about their jewishness. we care quite a lot, we just don’t need the promise of a benevolent god to do so

Here's a fun random question: Is there such a thing as a secular Jew?

Like, we have secular Christians who do the bare minimum to call themselves a Christian and participate in Christian holidays. Are there Jews that do that? Like maybe they were born into the faith and participate in the culture but they aren't like. Super religious about it all and if they miss something, it's not a big deal for them?

oh absolutely. there are some jews who will eat a bacon cheeseburger then fast all day with their family on yom kippur then not speak another word of hebrew till passover. but i think for jews it��s less abt doing the bare minimum to still be considered a jew bc judaism is a tribe, and more abt spending important days with their family or connecting with their culture.

and like obligatory 2 jews 3000 opinions and i’m not the Ultimate Authority on judaism, but the thing that’s different imo abt judaism vs christianity (at least western christianity) is that christianity is a faith-based religion. generally, if you don’t align with christian theology, or at least say “yeah ok jesus sure”, you are by definition not a christian. for jews, there’s multiple different axes on which jews can interact with judaism, but the two that are probably the most helpful to gentiles in understanding the jewish people’s complex and varied relationships to judaism: religiosity and observance.

religiosity is about what you believe. do you think god exists? what is god? what are your beliefs about creation? how do you interact with jewish spirituality? and honestly, you could probably even break religiosity and spirituality into two different categories.

observance is about what you do. do you abstain from eating pork and shellfish? do you light candles every friday night? do you attend synagogue regularly? do you just go on yom kippur? do you wear a kippah or tichel?

to a lot of people who aren’t jewish or aren’t familiar with judaism, they might think that if someone is religious then they’re obviously observant, and if they aren’t religious then obviously they aren’t observant. but you will meet jews who keep fully kosher, light candles every single friday, observe even the most minor fasts, celebrate all the holidays, and think the notion of god is bullshit and saying the shema is just a way they connect with their ancestors. you’ll also meet jews who haven’t lit candles since they moved out of their parents’ house, eat bacon for breakfast, only go to synagogue on yom kippur, and believe that god created the universe and calls the jewish people to heal the world through good deeds and charity. you’ll meet jews who are deeply spiritual but don’t believe in god. you’ll meet jews who go to synagogue every saturday morning but don’t know a lick of hebrew. and that’s the coolest thing about judaism for me is that there are a shit ton of rules that you can study for years and years and you still don’t have to follow a single one to be jewish if you’re already part of the tribe.

[peskygirl13]

MK SO-

I just got the Pokémon SWSH DLCs and I was wondering what it would be like for some legendary Pokémon to come to twst and cause some trouble(Legendarys I’d like to do ( you c an pick just one: Kyogre, Giratina, or Groudon)

If you can i want it to be just Diasomina!

This turned out longer than I expected and I got so mad with myself because I was almost done with writing this and I accidently deleted all my new work, so I had to start over from my last save point which is one of the reasons it took so long to post.

I’ve been binge playing the old Sinnoh games and rewatching the anime, so this was fun to write (despite me deleting my work). 

This will have references to the Pokémon Platinum game, so spoilers if you haven’t played the game and plan to. 

Hope you enjoy!

Malleus's favorite time of the day was night time. Night time was the best!

The world was at peace, it was quiet, everything was asleep, save for a few nocturnal creatures much like himself, he could hide from SIlver and Sebek and have some time to himself, and there were no students or humans who would see him and run away in terror.

But his favorite thing about night time was probably when he got to visit his favorite human, (Y/n).

Their situation was a bit odd, having appeared out of nowhere from a world full of creatures called Pokémon, but Malleus didn't care. They weren't afraid of him. After spending a lifetime of having people fear him due to his name, it was a nice change.

Malleus arrived at the Ramshackle dorm to find you already sitting outside, cleaning your Empoleon's feathers.

"Greetings, Child of Man." He greeted, happily walking up to you.

"Hey, Tsunotaro." You smiled, putting down Empoleon's brush to wave at him.

That was another thing Malleus adored about you. Even after finding out who he was, you still didn't fear him and continued calling him by that amusing nickname you gave him.

You both entered the dorm, along with Empoleon, and he was instantly greeted with the rest of your strange creatures. Luxray, Togekiss, Glaceon, Garchomp, and Lucario.

You headed over to the kitchen to make some tea while he got comfortable on the couch. Once he was seated, Garchomp laid its head on Malleus's lap, implying that it wanted scratches.

By the time you had returned with two mugs of steaming tea, all the other Pokémon had already gotten comfortable and most had fallen asleep.

You handed Malleus his mug before sitting down in your chair. Glaceon hopped up and curled up in your lap before falling back asleep.

After you both got comfortable, you began regaling Malleus with stories of your world.

Malleus loved hearing your stories.

From your gym battle challenges to your contests. Catching all your Pokémon and even receiving an egg from a woman named Cynthia that hatched into a Togepi that which layer evolved into your beloved Togekiss.

Malleus has never left the Valley of Thorns, except for school, so he enjoyed hearing about your travels. Your freedom to journey and see so many different places, never being tied down, he envied it.

“May I see your badges and ribbons again?” He asked.

“Sure.” You agreed, getting up to grab them.

At the movement, Glaceon, rather huffily, got up from your lap and moved to Malleus, curling up on his lap instead. He instantly started stroking her with one hand while the other continued scratching Garchomp. He only stopped when you handed him your badge and ribbon case.

He immediately opened them both and admired your impressive 7 badges and 5 sparkling ribbons. 

You had told him that even though you had collected the required number of ribbons, you were transported to Twisted Wonderland before you could compete in the Grand Festival. You also hadn’t yet had the chance to earn your 8th and final gym badge, which allowed you to challenge the Elite Four and the Sinnoh Champion. 

“They are very impressive, Child of Man.” Malleus complemented.

Even though there wasn’t a gym challenge or contests in Twisted Wonderland, Malleus could tell how much value each badge and ribbon you earned had.

“Thanks, Tsunotaro.” You beamed, positively preening at the complement. “Maybe when I find a way home you could come with me and have your own journey. There are a bunch of dragon type Pokémon I bet you’d like. Maybe your starter could be an Axew. Or a Dino. Maybe a Gible seeing how well you get along with Garchomp. There are also rock or electric types. OOH- Maybe a fairy type!”

Malleus tuned your rambling out. His head was both empty and racing.

Him? Go on a journey in another world? The idea was preposterous! Yet... also tempting.

Traveling around with no chains. Nobody knowing who he was, thus no one quivering at the sight of him. No overbearing, but well meaning, guards to coddle him. He liked this idea!

Unfortunately, he didn’t have long to dwell on the tempting daydream when Ramshakle’s door slammed open with a loud bang.

“WAKA-SAMA!!!”

Speak of the devil.

You and Malleus turned to the doorway to a disheveled and hysterical looking Sebek and a normal sleepy looking Silver.

“Sebek.” Malleus greeted, hiding his annoyance of being interrupted during his time with his Child of Man.

“Waka-sama, you mustn’t leave without telling us! What if something happens to y-”

The half-fae was cut off by and ice beam, freezing him solid. You and Malleus looked over at Glaceon who was angry about having her sleep disturbed for a third time. Now quite irritated and huffy, Glaceon angrily marched upstairs to try and get some sleep in your room.

“My apologies.” You jumped when Lilia appeared behind you without warning, hanging upside down as usual. “They ran off when I wasn’t looking.”

You looked back at the other Diasomnia residence. Silver had already fallen asleep, using Togekiss’s soft, feathery body as a pillow, while Sebek was slowly beginning to thaw out of the ice.

You wish you could say this is the weirdest thing to ever happen with them.

After having Lucario use force-palm and free Sebek, you all sat down near the fire.

(You left Silver be since he was already asleep.)

Sebek wanted to know what was so fascinating about you that Waka-sama would continuously come visit you. 

The only thing you could think of was telling them about your journey.

“After I won my seventh gym badge at Snowpoint, I had to meet my friend, Barry, at Lake Acuity and right after that I had to meet with Professor Rowan and Lucas at Lake Verity.”

“Why did you have to go to those lakes?” Lilia asked, genuinely curious as to what value they had.

“Uh, well-- mmh-- pthbbt.” You tried to think of a way to avoid that question, or at least dance your way around it, and the stuttering and raspberry blowing was obviously helping you be discreet in avoiding the question. 

“GLACE!!”

A loud yell echoed from upstairs thatw as loud enough to wake even Silver. You were momentarily grateful that you had been interrupted before realizing ‘Oh shit that’s my Pokémon.”

“Glaceon!” You yelled, bolting from your chair and rushing up the stairs with your Pokémon and the Diasomnia boys at your heels.

You opened your bedroom door with a loud bang and saw Glaceon in a defensive stance, hissing at the mirror with Grim looking frazzled.

“Fgaah! Minion, control your Pokémon! I was asleep and then it started shouting and tried to attack the mirror!” He yelled angrily, before stalking off to the living room to continue sleeping.

You sighed before looking over at the mirror. You held out your arm towards your Pokémon so they knew not to do anything yet. You inched closer to the mirror, pausing only for a second to pet Glaceon and calm her down a bit. You walked forward a few more steps until you were face-to-face with the mirror. 

Now that you were closer, you could see the shadow of something moving within the glass. You didn’t know what it was, but it wasn’t Micky. You leaned a bit closer, trying to make out the figure--

“GIRATINA!!”

Everything went black.

~

The first thing you noticed when you could see again was that you were clearly not in your room. Or your dorm for that matter. 

Everything was weird. You weren’t sure of any other way to describe it other than weird.

Weird and familiar.

“The Reverse World.” You muttered, shocked by your sudden return to the feared Giratina’s playground. 

You didn’t have long to stay dumbfounded when you remembered the Legendary who lived in this world. You frantically looked around you and saw that your team and the boys were with you, which did nothing to curb your panic. Grim wasn’t with you all, so you assumed hoped that he was still at Ramshackle.

You first woke up your Pokémon. They freaked out for a second before realizing where they were, putting them all on guard. They carefully scanned their surroundings for anything they found threatening while you quickly crawled over to the boys, traying to shake them awake. 

“Get up. Guys, get up! We need to move!”

The Diasomnia boys hardly registered what was happening and where they were before you pulled them away. Your team created a barrier around you all as you lead the boys through the strange new world. All they could do was look around wildly.

“Careful, gravity gets weird here.” You warned them. 

True to your words, the piece of land you all were walking on started to curve in the air until you all started walking upside down. Even Lilia, who was used to hanging upside down, was a bit thrown off about this.

“What is this place?” Silver asked what everyone was thinking, knowing that you were the only one who could give any of them an answer.

“The Distortion World.” You explained. “Also known as the Reverse World. It’s kind of like the Underworld of my world.”

That explanation only provided them with more questions but went they entered a place that had these large bubbles floating around them they were quickly distracted.

“Hey,” Silver called, gaining everyone’s attention. “This thing has headmaster Crowley in it.”

Said bubble did have a picture of Crowley in his office, working late into the night. Huh. Who know he actually did anything.

Silver raised a hand towards the bubble. 

“No, don’t touch it!” You exclaimed. Unfortunately it was a second to late and the bubble popped at the slightest graze of Silver’s fingers.

The boys looked over to you at the sound of you yell, seeing your panicked expression.

“Don’t. Touch. Anything.” You order, stressing out each word. “Everything in this world effects the real world. If you aren’t careful you could kill someone through this place.

The boys looked positively alarmed.

“Will the headmaster be alright?”

You waved off their concern, continuing to lead the way. “He’ll be fine. Popping that bubble didn’t kill him, but it did feel like he was hit with a bowling ball.

“How do you know this? How do you know so much about this place, (Y/n).” Lilia asked, dead serious. 

You glance over your shoulder at them before sighing.

Guess it was time to come clean.

“There are some things that happened during my journey that I didn’t tell you guys about.” You confessed.

“While journeying through Sinnoh, I constantly ran into an organization called Team Galactic. Their leader, Cyrus, believed that the world was ugly and needed to be destroyed. His plan was to capture the legendary Pokémon, Palkia and Dialga, and the Lake Guardians, Uxie, Mesprit, and Azelf. Those three were the reason I met Barry and Professor Rowan at the lakes, Lilia, to try and save the Lake Guardians from Team Galactic. Anyway, Cyrus claimed that he was going to create his own, perfect world using the powers of the legendary Pokémon. At least I think that was his plan. He talks like Shakespeare and I have a middle school education. Anyway, before he could create his ‘perfect world’ Giratina appeared and took Cyrus away to here, the Distortion World. This is Giratina’s domain.”

The boys were stunned into silence. They knew you were strong, but for you to have done all that as well as fighting overblots? They were truly impressed.

“What happened afterwards?” Malleus questioned, enthralled by your story.

“Cynthia, the current Sinnoh Champion, and I entered the Distortion World to save Cyrus. Unfortunately, he saw this place as his ideal world and didn’t want to leave. In the end, we had to use force and I beat him in a battle. And, after that, I had to face Giratina itself. But, I don’t know how, but before I could face it, the Dark Mirror called me to Twisted Wonderland.”

You stopped walking, taking a deep breath before turning to face the boys. 

“We need to find Giratina. Giratina’s the only Pokémon that can travel between worlds and its the only thing that can get us back to Night Raven.”

Your tone alone was enough to my the Diasomnia boys understand the severity of the situation.

“Human, if this creature is as powerful as you claim, then how do you expect to get it?” Sebek interrogated. 

You reached into your pocket and pulled out a purple ball with an ‘M’ on it, showing it the the boys.

“This is a master ball. I stole it from Cyrus’s base when I went to save the Lake Guardians. It can catch any Pokémon without fail. All we need to do is find Giratina.”

“Lucar!” 

“Luxray!”

You all turned to Lucario and Luxray who were growling in the same direction. Looking closely, you could see something coming at you all. Your team took their battle stances and sure enough, there was the Angel of Darkness itself, Giratina. 

Even Malleus had to admit, that creature was terrifying. 

It looked like a dragon and centipede mixed together, but it towered over everything, easily dwarfing them all.

You waisted no time.

“Empoleon, Hydro Cannon!” You ordered. Even Sebek had to admit that your authoritative tone was hard to ignore and resist, full of confidence and superiority. 

Empoleon listened without question, fearlessly attacking the towering giant.

“Lucario, Aura Sphere! Glaceon, Ice Beam! Luxray, Thunder! Garchomp, Dragon Rush!”

All your Pokémon attacked at once, hitting Giratina square on. The legendary screeched before firing a move of its own that your team narrowly avoided.

“Great job. Keep attacking!” You ordered shooing the boys out of Giratina’s firing range.

“What do we need to do to help, (Y/n)?” Malleus asked. He was already gripping his pen, ready to fight.

“Nothing. Just stay put and don’t move.” You ordered sternly. The boys were stunned.

“What?! (Y/n) we can help-” 

“I know you can help,” You cut off. “But I don’t need to defeat Giratina. I just need to distract it.”

You ran off before they could question what you meant, whistling for your Pokémon.

“Togekiss!” You called, jumping off the edge of the land and easily getting caught by your flying type, who flew you behind Giratina. 

You let your team get in one last group attack before throwing the master ball at Giratina. 

The legendary effortlessly went in and after a spectacular dive made by you and Togekiss, you caught the ball and returned to the boys.

The boys ran over to you as you climbed off Togekiss, looking at the ball in your hand.

“I can’t believe you actually caught it, human!” Sebek exclaimed, flabbergasted. 

“Thanks, Sebek.”

“So what now?” Silver asked. The group all turned to you expectedly and you rolled your eyes before turning around to the wide open space and releasing Giratina from the master ball. 

“Giratina,” You called, “Please take us back.”

Giratina stared down at you before letting out an echoing screech and lowing its head to your level.

Immediately understanding what it wanted you to do, you crawled onto its head before waving the boys over.

“C’mon. We its going to take us back.”

Hesitantly, the boys climbed on with your Pokémon and once everyone was on, Giratina soared through the air.

This was different from riding a broom or riding Togekiss, who was happily flying beside you all, but it was exhilarating at the same time.

Too soon for anyone’s tastes, Giratina slowed down to a stop before lowering itself down so that everyone could climb off. 

The place were Giratina dropped you all off was a small patch of land with two lakes on it. You and the boys could see your bedroom in one of the lakes, making you realize that you were looking through your bedroom mirror.

“Alright!” You cheered. “Let’s get back.” But before you could step through the reflection, Empoleon called out to you.

“Empoleon!”

“Huh? What is it, Empoleon?”

He was looking in the other lake, pointing at something. 

You, your team, and the boys looked through the refection and you couldn’t restrain the gasp that left your mouth.

You could see the Mesprit, the guardian of Lake Verity.

“That’s Mesprit, Lake Verity’s guardian!” You exclaimed, coming to several realizations at once. “That’s close to Twinleaf Town. I-I could go home!”

You turned to your team and the Diasomnia boys, your eyes sparking with both joy and a few unshed tears. “With Giratina we can go home and still stay in Twisted Wonderland!”

Mallues watched you with soft eyes. He had seen a side if you tonight that he had never seen before. Your courage, your confidence, your skill. He had these too, but yours stemmed from experience. This wasn’t something you were taught since you were born like him, these were abilities you learned through trial and error with your team. Something that he wanted.

With a new found determination, Malleus turned to his most trusted knights and friends.

“Lilia, Silver, Sebek,” He began, quickly gaining everyone's attention, “I have decided that until it is time for me to receive the crown from my grandmother, I want to travel (Y/n)’s world with a Pokémon of my own.”

Even you weren’t expecting that announcement.

“WHAT?! WAKA-SAMA ARE YOU FEELING WELL?!?!? WE MUST GET YOU TO AN INFIMERORY!!”

“I’m fine, Sebek. And I’m not joking.”

“WHAAAAAAAT?!?! YOU, HUMAN, YOU HAVE GIVEN WAKA-SAMA THIS DANGEROUS IDEA!!”

“I think its a great idea.”

“MASTER LILIA?!?!”

“zzzzz”

You couldn’t help snorting at the scene in front of you. A rather calm Malleus simply being unmovable about his choice of coming home with you, a hysterical Sebek trying to talk him out of it, an impish looking Lilia who actually supported Malleus’s idea, and a snoozing silver, who could still sleep effortlessly despite the chaos surrounding him.

You leaned up against Empoleon’s belly, him and all your other Pokémon already lying down, knowing that this was going to take a while. Even Giratina was curled up!

But, You thought, watching the group was a soft smile, you know that no matter how much you wanted to go home, you would've missed this. And this, your friends and NRC, was something that you never wanted to lose.

Bonus:

After sorting everything out with Crowley, you returned to your world to reconcile with your friends and your mom. It took some explaining, but bringing Grim back with you as well as Malleus with his magic and horns was enough to convince everyone what happened to you.

Afterwards, you were able to compete in the Grand Festival. You didn’t end up winning, however you did make it to the finals. Your opponent, Dawn, had only beaten you by a few points.

The Diasomnia gang, as well as Grim, the Adeuce combo, and the Pomefiore Trio were all present to see this and couldn’t have been prouder.

Once the Grand Festival had come to a close, you headed over to Sunnyshore City and won your 8th and final Gym Badge, permitting you to challenge the Elite Four and Cynthia.

The Pomefiore Trio didn’t watch these challenges, but the other did. 

Their nerves were through the roof when you finally faced Cynthia. And when your Garchomp miraculously out sped her Garchomp with the finishing move nobody cheered louder. 

In the end, you took Malleus to the place where you caught Garchomp back when he was still a Gible and caught Malleus his own, whom he unironically named ‘Gargoyle.’ 

Malleus did have to return to the Valley of Thorns, but not without you promising that the upcoming summer would be the start of his own Pokémon Journey. 

I wrote most of this forgetting about Grim, so sorry he doesn’t have a bigger role or more screen time.

Fun story; I got in trouble for writing down my ideas for this at work even though I did it while the store was dead and I’ve worked there for nearly two years and have either written something or drawn something almost every shift I have. Litterally no one but the manager to caught me cares. 

And, just to irritate me more (whether she was aware of it or not), said manager takes my writings and decides to read them and then proceeds to put them back in the wrong order before lecturing me.

So, yeah, that was fun.

[michael-aftons-nonbinary-lover]

Hey 😒 here to apologize or wtvr🙄‼️‼️ so here’s more of a fluff ask🥱

Okay so i’m still like SUPER into the thought of Child!Afton!Reader- so here 😝

*goes through my notes app so i can see what k wanna choose out of my 1,000 ideas* Ah here we go

Child!Afton!Reader who collects weird things like buttons and rocks just because they like the look of it? Like in their room they have a whole shelve of the things they’ve collected wether that it’s random cans to leafs they probably have it?

Weird ask ik😒 but it’s the best fluff yer gonna get from me 🕺

Thank you for sparing me, finally

The Bug Collector

-(Afton kid!reader, Afton family)-

-(Summary: William doesn't understand his family)-

-(CW: none)-

-(The title is from "The Bug Collector" by Hayley Hendrix, I fucking love that song so much)-

🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶

Your father had never had any idea as to why you collected any of the things that you did. Bottle caps, rocks, leaves, blades of grass, shoelaces, buttons, flowers, bows, stuffed animals, and so much more.

The leaves, flowers, and other such things always had to be thrown away once they started to decompose. You were always so upset about it, quietly crying and letting tears fall as you lay wilting flowers and crumbling leaves onto tree trunks outside.

All the other things, no matter how dirty, diseased, and disgusting, your mother had allowed you to keep. On shelves, bookcases, your dresser, in shoeboxes in your closet. You had so many collections in so many places.

Because you almost always came home with something, your siblings also had collections of things that they love. Evan had a collection of stuffed animals you had found all over, from the playground at school to bus stops on the way home from it. Elizabeth had bows, rings, necklaces, a few stuffed animals, and even a single shoe that you had found at the park. Michael had shoeboxes full of strings, nearly hundreds of laces to match each shoe. Some of the were dirty and severed, some perfectly clean and brand new.

Even he and your mother had some gifts. He had received a novelty pin that read, "World's #1 Raccoon". The words were printed on a small raccoon, small claws wrapped around a large, fat tail. It looked like it was sleeping peacefully. Apparently, another child in your class had given it to you.

Your mother was given pressed flowers regularly, along with anything yellow. You had once found a stale marshmallow Peep and given it to her. She had tried to react positively, which she did, until you had left the room. The she had sighed, thrown it away, and washed her hands before she went to read in the living room.

Mike had once questioned how you had gotten them, but you refused to tell anyone how you did.

William would never understand it. Caroline, while she also didn't understand it, never wanted to stifle your imagination and creativity with what you could do with all these things you found.

Of course, William didn't either, but he still voiced his opinions about how he didn't understand it.

"Couldn't some of these things be really dirty?"

"Will, sugarbee, the kids drink house water. I don't think a dirty shoe lace collection is anything to worry about."

He nodded in agreement, not going to argue with that. He wished Michael had never taught you all that the house water was semi-drinkable, and he wished even more that the four of you would stop asking to drink it nearly everyday.

He would never understand any of you.

He would never understand Caroline's big family, her southern upbringing and accent. Her use of farm lingo or the scars she and her brothers had given each other.

He would never understand Michael's need to tease his siblings, or the other kids in his class. He wouldn't understand the fact that only Michael could tease and taunt his siblings. He would never understand why Michael was always the one to put his sibling's arguments to rest, no matter how big they were. He would never understand why Michael refused to let anyone see his drawings, even though he was a very talented artist.

He would never understand why you collected anything and everything. Why you gave the strangest gifts to everyone in your family. Why your books about plants has grass stains on the covers and flowers pressed between the pages. Why you liked to stay up late, only to lay down outside and stare at the sky every night like it was going out of style.

He would never understand why Evan always cried, and hid from the animatronics and other children. Or why Elizabeth loved clowns rather than ballerinas or princesses, or even Barbies and dolls.

He would never understand any of you, but he didn't really need to. He would love you all, whether he understood you or not.

🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶

(this was done so fast, lmfao, pls don't judge me for cringe or misspellings)

[tidemoonchild]

"Oh, don't worry about him. I'm sure he'll be happy about it… He's not that 'introverted' when it comes to other people. I think if he had his way, everyone would be his friend," laughed Maggie, amused.

She looked over at Ryan with a big grin. "It's fun, right?" It wasn't hard to miss how much fun he was having and his emotions would be extremely contagious even without her ability. "And about the photo, I take it as a promise!" She laughed and accelerated again so she could rock even higher and faster.

"I actually have no idea how the name came about," Maggie joked about the name Mother Hen. "But it's good to know that you're so imaginative, then from today on you can help me find good names. The others aren't really good at it... or care about it that much."

Finally reaching the top, Maggie rocked so high that she almost flipped over the beam, giggling at Mother Hen's reaction. Yes, it was more than clear why he had named the crow Mother Hen.

While they were swinging, Maggie didn't notice how time passed by as the sun slowly began to set. Suddenly the crows around them began to become more and more restless. Some kept crowing and others began to fly away as if they were making room as the wind seemed to get stronger around the playground.

Leaves, dust and feathers of the crows were thrown together until they formed a small tornado at the middle of the playground, which blocked the view of what was about to come.

It all happened so quickly that there was barely time to react when suddenly a pale-looking boy with jet-black hair appeared, right where the tornado was. He didn't seem to be much older than Maggie and Ryan themselves, his expression was emotionless and at the same time serious and cold. The aura that surrounded him seemed angry and annoyed and at the same time worried but also relieved. The stranger just stared at Maggie, not seeming to pay any attention to Ryan.

Right at the moment when the stranger appeared in front of them, Maggie abruptly stopped the swing and looked over at him. "Shit…" she cursed quietly. The crows that had previously sat calmly around them now flew around the black-haired man and circled him, crowing. On the boy's shoulder another crow sat down, which spread its wings and flapped them briefly, crowing loudly as if it were scolding.

"Enough!" Growled the stranger, causing the crows to suddenly fall silent and fly away as if on command until the playground was empty except for Maggie, Ryan, the stranger and the crow on his shoulder. The stranger's cold gaze lingered on Maggie but didn't said a single word.

Misfits

Maggie was sitting in a park under a tree writing in her diary. She was new in town and once again new at the school. This and the fact that she didn't interacted much with the others and kept more to herself led to the point that the other kids liked to pick on her, calling her weird and strange.

She didn't cared. She was used to it being the new girl at school and she was used to being treated that way. It wasn't like she tried to be this 'mysterious girl' with secrets how they called her, or to be the stuff from which horror stories were made of. She just didn't liked talking to people that much.

Maggie preferred the silence and being by herself so there were fewer things that could trigger her, or more that could trigger what was slumbered inside her, always trying to break free. It was better this way, safer. For everyone.

She was so engrossed in her writing that she didn't noticed the people around her or what was happening around her.

@azuresrp

[miraculous-trinity-leo]

Whacky Gotham, Goofy New York, and Chaotic Paris.

(part 1) (part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7)

Chapter 1: Genius Little Ladybug

★—–—–†–—–—★

It all started when Sabine Cheng and her parents moved from China to America, where she met a rich boy named Tony, they weren't the best of friends at first, but they would always get into crazy shenanigans because of Tony. Sabine always finding a way to get them out of it. After a while they were practically inseparable, they had each others backs, both in the good times, and the bad.

So when Tony lost both his mother and father in a tragic car accident, and had to take over his parents company, she was there to try and ease the pain. It helped a little, but the boy changed and blocked out many people, only keeping a select few close to him. His personality changed, and he started to act differently, it saddened Sabine, but she knew it was his way of coping with his lose.

She would oftentimes find him crying silently in his office. When Tony opened a branch in Paris France, he was paranoid something would go wrong when he wasn't there, so he had Sabine become a sort of co-CEO for the Paris branch. Over the many years of her being a sibling-in-everything-but-blood to Tony, her intelligence was much higher than everyone in the company, other than said boy.

She moved to Paris not long after, always keeping an eye on both the Paris branch and Tony ( because god knows what would happen if she didn't do so). She even met a baker named Tom Dupain. Eventually dating, and marrying him. Tony wasn't the most eager when he heard of Tom, but he accepted him as family (not because if he didn't Sabine would knock some sense into him). He practically exploded with excitement when he heard we would be an uncle a few years after Sabine's wedding.

Tony was there in the waiting room with Tom, when Sabine was having the child ( Tony denies not having a mini heart attack when the nurse came in). Both men looked at the beautiful child through the glass. Tony was put to tears when he read her name "Maria Dupain-Cheng" and was comforted by a teary Tom.

When Maria was 9 months old, her Uncle Tony came to spend time with her, and talk business with Sabine. None of them expected Maria to crawl her way into their conversation and say "Uncle Tony" in the sweetest most adorable laugh both adults had ever heard. Tony had a massive grin on his face, and gave Maria a big hug and lots of kisses saying " I knew i was your favorite hahaha, and you're only 9 months old. Sabine I think we got a little genius on our hands." Sabine was just as happy and told Tom to hurry and grab the camera.

"Come on say it one more time my dear Maria, show your papa who your favorite adult is" Tony said with a very wide grin.

Maria giggled at her uncle's happiness, clapping her hands. "Uncle Tony, Uncle Tony" Tom just smiled giving his baby girl a kiss and handing Tony 10 Euros.

Tony continued to visit his little genius niece over the years. Maria ended up getting the best education a kid could get, becuase his logic was " If she is a genius (which she is) then she is going to have the best education money can buy, for nothing is to much for my Little Genius Maria!" and with that she could officially be called the smartest kid in all of Paris... heck probably in all of Europe even! So when she gained a passion for fashion at 4, Tony didn't hesitate to get her, her very first (kid friendly) sewing set. By the time Maria was 5 she already knew how to speak and write in French, English, Spanish, Russian, and is learning Mandarin.

Maria had met Chloé when they were both 6, although they weren't really friends, they were polite to each other, which surprised a lot of the other kids their age. She had met Alix a few months later. She spent a lot of the time she wasn't studying with her friends, Alix would get in trouble with another kid on the playground, Chloé would criticise the other kid, and Maria would talk to Alix and then apologize to the other kid. Overall, they had a good dynamic going on, and they (as 7 year olds) promised to always have each others backs to the very end.

When Maria was 3½ months away from her 9th birthday, Tony was kidnapped. Maria just broke down, she wanted to help her Uncle, but she didn't know where he was or how she could help if she did. For three months Maria would only speak to Chloé and Alix (they were kinda shocked to find out she was related to THE Tony Stark). A few days before her birthday, Tony came to their home, with rolls of fabric, flowers, and 'I'm sorry cards'. Maria jumped into his arms crying asking what happened, and "If you're the smartest man on the Earth, why the Heck did it take you so long? How did you get out? Are any of your vital organs hurts? Do you need to go to the Hospital? An-"

"Hey slow down My Little Genius Maria, I'm ok. 1, They didn't really give me much to work with at first, and there is only so much a genius like myself can do with so little resources, and time before your Birthday. 2, I made an anime mecha suit and flew out guns a blazing. 3, Nothing I can't live without. and 4, No because I'm spending the week with you lot before a conference I have in about 10 days." He said while holding his small little genius  in his arms.

Wiping away the tears she looked her Uncle in the eyes "Wait, you 'made an anime mecha suit and flew out guns a blazing?' How does it work? what's its power source? And why do you have a weird glowing device in your chest?!" He had a lot of explaining to do.

That week, in her words was 'The best week of her life.' She was really happy for the first time since the Tony-napping happened, although she was sad he had to go, she knew  he was safe, and that she didn't have to worry (as much) now.

When Maria was 13, both Tony and Sabine decided to have her go to public school with her friends. After hearing this Maria called for a meeting, her two commanders (Alix and Chloé) came for the meeting, and had a talk on how she should go about her first day of public school, asking questions like 'How do non-homeschooled kids act? What are their personalities like? What interests do they have? Are some barbaric like Alix is sometimes? Will they like me? Am I allowed to talk to Chloé in or only out of class? What are the seating arrangements? Who do I sit next to?' the list goes on. They were all excited to finally all be in the same study environment, now all they had to do was wait for their first day.

•~—~—~—~—~—~—~•

The night before her first day Maria may or may not have slept well due to her excitement, she woke up a little later than she ever would have preferred, getting breakfast, her clothes, the 'greeting sweets' (as Alix called them) and heading out in a slight panic.

On her way out she noticed an elderly man with a cain crossing the street, and a car coming a little faster than what was allowed, she pulled the man out of the cars way without losing any of the sweets, after making sure the man was ok, she gave him a sweet before saying good day and heading over to school. She never noticed the man walking away without the use of his cain.

She still got to class on time, when her teacher walked in she greeted everyone in the class "Bonjour, je m'appelle Maria Dupain-Cheng, c'est un plaisir de vous rencontrer! (Hello, my name in Maria Dupain-Cheng, it is a pleasure to meet you!)" after the introductions she sat down in the empty seat next to Alix, both giving a fist bump, and a smile to Chloé, who looked away as if she didn't care (the girl had an image to keep after all). When class was over she handed out the sweets and went with her friends to lunch. During lunch, one of the other students from a different class was mocking one of their classmates that Maria remembered as Ivan, for having a crush on Mylène and not saying how he really feels to her. Ivan ran off into one of the locker rooms, and Maria decided to go and comfort him, she explained that she overheard what happened and that he should try and tell Mylène about his feelings, listing many different things he could do or say, and that he should stay positive.

Ivan thanked Maria afterwards and went off to write a song for Mylène. Ivan later showed Mylène the song he wrote for her, but was teased by other students near them, Ivan ran away not wanting to be embarrassed more.

Back in the classroom Alix and Maria are sitting and talking when everyone hears crashing and screams outside, the class looked out to see a giant rock thing destroying everything  on its way to the school. The teachers sent the kids home in an attempt to keep them safe.

When Maria got home she noticed a small box with writing she didn't recognize, she carefully opened it, instantly releasing a glow of bright red-ish pink light.

"Greetings Maria Dupain-Cheng, I am Tikki, the Ladybug Kwami of creation and good Luck, it is a pleasure to meet you." Maria couldn't believe her eyes "Mon dieu..." was all she could say, before going full interrogation mode "You're a Kwami? What is that? How are you floating like that? How am I able to understand you? Do you have some sort of ability to communicate in any language?How did you fit in this box? w-"

"There is no time, Paris needs you! I can only explain the powers I grant and how to use them, so please listen carefully."

•~—~—~—~—~—~—~•

Soon Maria was running in a red suit with black spots and amor. She ended up facing the 'akuma' as Tikki called it in a stadium, meeting her partner (a blonde furry she decided) for the first time.

"Bonjour m'lady, so what's the plan to take this thing down?"

Without hesitation she explained her plan " The plan is for you to have your Cataclysm ready, I'll give you a signal when it's your-"

"Cataclysm!"  The boy proceeded to use his ONE attack on a GOAL POST!

"I said to wait for a SIGNAL! Now you only have five minutes before you power-off."

"Oops" The blonde was really wasting her more useful braincells. After the boy was thrown out of the stadium, Maria was left to fend for herself, and she did really well, considering this was her first non(but sort of) official villain fight, up until she lost her footing and was knocked into the side of the stadium. The akuma was gone before she could get back, more and more people were turned to stone, but it showed just where Stoneheart was heading.

She arrived at the Eiffel Tower, where blonde was fighting stone people, he just managed to get away and actually listened to the plan this time.

They defeated Stoneheart, Maria gave her speech to the villain, and did a fist bump (though at this point Maria just wanted to get some sleep), when a reporter came to interview them.

"What are your names, and where did you come from?"

"My name's Chat Noir an-"

"Ladybug, and we're hear to protect Paris from Moth-Man, as much as we would love to give you a bit more details, we don't have much time at the moment" right on que their Miraculous' beeped signalling they had 2 minutes left " Stay safe, and positive, Bug-Out. "

•~—~—~—~—~—~—~•

"Well done Maria!"

"Thanks Tikki." and with that Maria went downstairs to get something to eat, when she saw her parents watching the news.

"Earlier today Paris gained a villain and two heroes: Ladybug, and Chat Noir. Many of our viewers submitted pictures and videos, but only one of Ladybug came out clear."

"Thank you Ladybug and Chat Noir for protecting us, bonne journée à Paris."

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

"Maria you're taking self-defense classes starting tomorrow" Sabine spoke, though Maria didn't have any complaints, plus it'll help when fighting akumas so it's a win win.

"Yes maman."

•~~~~~later in Maria's room~~~~~•

"Ok, so you're basically goddess of creation personified into a cute little Ladybug creature?"

"Kwami, but yes."

"And you've existed since basically the Big Bang?"

"Correct."

"... how are you able to float like that? How are we able to talk without any ancient god language in the way? And what other kinds of um kwamis are there?"

"I float with magic. Yes their is a language only for the Kwami, but we've learned every other language in existence, so there would never be an issue with communication. And to your last question, there are many different kinds of Miraculi all over the world, some even across the universe, so I am unable to list every single one in existence, but there are just as many Miraculi out there as there are starts in the sky."

"Impressive... does that mean I could learn magic?"

"As a human you are limited to what you can do with magic, but you have a strong creation soul. So yes it is possible for you to learn basic magic, I can teach you some life magic to help you heal quicker if you get hurt outside the suit. You can also learn other types of basic magic based on what Miraculous you are most aligned to. Surprisingly you have a close affinity to most of my brothers and sisters that are here in Paris."

"Are they in the hands of other Miraculous users?"

"... aside from Chat Noir, only two: one belongs to the Guardian, and the other to Hawkmoth."

"What are their names?"

"...Wayzz is Kwami of Protection, and is the partner of the Guardian. The other is Nooroo Kwami of Transmission, Hawkmoths Kwami.

"Ok, so then I assume the 'Guardian' is who you were with until now, right?"

"That is correct."

"And how was I chosen exactly?"

"The Guardian chose you because he saw your kindness in action, and sensed your strong Creation Soul, he has only ever been wrong once, but I can tell you will be a great Ladybug, maybe even one of the few who achieved a higher sence of life."

"... I feel like you kind of described a Sage, also how would he have seen an act of kindness, I mean, I got my things, went out helped an older man with a cain, wait."Maria squinted her eyes at Tikki as if looking for something.

"The elderly man's the Guardian isn't he?"

"..."

"I get it, you don't have to tell me, it's all apart of the 'plot' like some show, I get it. Welp, good night Tikki, have to get up early tomorrow."

"Good night Maria." Tikki never messed up so badly before, then again she never had a user with such a strong Creation Soul before either... Maria is something special.

•~—~—~—~—~—~—~•

And Tikki was right, she excelled at Life Magic, learning a fair bit of healing, luck and slight plant manipulation and communication magic. Tikki wasn't sure if she should be proud of her Bug, or scared at her fast learning skills.

A few weeks passed and Maria was thankful for the self-defense classes, she even started doing her own training routine with Tikki guiding her. She didn't like that her partner was a flirt, it got distracting and almost got Chat killed a few times. She often wondered 'what the hell did I do in my past life to get a partner like this?'

•~—~—~—~—~—~—~•

Tony Stark was called by Sabine to meet her earlier than they had planned, she informed him that Paris now has a villain and two heroes.

"Ok, so what's the problem? We agreed to put Maria in self-defense classes so she would be safe... is it a boy?! Don't tell me it's a boy, she's to young to be dating!"

"It's not about a boy."

"Then what is this about?"

"She's Ladybug, *sigh* I swear she gets it from you Tony. She learned it from your dumb@ss, and it didn't help the need to protect people she loves when you got kidnapped. I need you to teach her how to be a good hero, good combat strategist, and to give her your support. She already has a tactical mind, I'm proud in a way that she shares your bravery."

"Ffffffffudge... ok, where is she?"

"Upstairs."

•~—~—~—~—~—~—~•

After a slightly awkward conversation Maria started to get even more training, and became a pretty much badass on the field, she incorporated the known fighting styles of: Black Widow (her favorite hero), Captain America, Deadpool (favorite hero to some degree), Daredevil, Wolverine, and some moves from famous villains like, Kraven The Hunter, Red Skull, Doctor Doom, Scorpion, Shocker, and Taskmaster ( her favorite villain). And she used ALL of those skills in battle, it was damn impressive to watch, and then Sabine had a talk with Tony.

〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜Bonus〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜

"Ok Tony wtf? I asked you to teach her how to fight for protection when she's out there, But you turned her into a complete badass, I mean none of the akumas have lasted more than 10 minutes with her! I want to hug you and kick your @ss at the same time."

" Sorry not sorry Sabine, but she is our Genius Little Ladybug after all."

•—–—–†–—–—•

First fic, wahoo (mario stile), hope you're all having an Absolutely wonderful day, stay safe, and stay positive, BUG-OUT!🐞💮🐞

〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜 Tag List 〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜

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@lupagrimm

[fandomsonrequests]

dad!ateez: their dad instincts kick in

inspired by @latte-fairytaekwoon​ (thanks i have massive baby fever now :’] ) and those videos where parents bust out into ninja mode when their baby is about to fall or run into something

hongjoong:

“Okay buddy, just sit there while daddy works okay?” Hongjoong tells his eight-month-old son who was sitting across him on the soft couch of the producing room. His son only babbles happily, making his father smile. 

Hongjoong shakes his head in amusement and turns back towards his computer where he started working on his music. The first few minutes, he would occasionally look over to his son just to make sure he hadn’t wandered off or touch anything. And every time he sees him just playing with the toys that surround him. So far so good. 

But it didn’t take long for the little guy to become bored and for Hongjoong to become so immersed in his work. While he was busy, tapping away and finding some samples to use, his son started to stand. The baby held onto the back of the couch, walking towards the edge where he bounces up and down, his feet dangerously close to the edge. One wrong misstep and he would go tumbling off the side. 

Fortunately, at that moment, Hongjoong’s father instincts kicked in. Something just tickled in the back of his head to check his baby. And a good thing he did because the minute he turned, his baby slipped off the edge of the couch. The man immediately launched off his chair and grabbed his son by the arm, pulling him towards his chest and rolling back onto the couch.

The baby was stunned into silence, not comprehending what had happened before laughing and patting his father’s face. Hongjoong felt his heartbeat rapidly, a sigh of relief escaping him. He kissed the baby’s little palm and brought him over to his chair where he sat him onto his lap. 

“Maybe it’s best you watch daddy work.”

seonghwa:

“That’s it Hyonjin! Keep it up!” You encourage your four-year-old daughter from behind the camera.

It was her first time riding a trike so obviously, your husband, being the helicopter father he was, asked you to document the whole thing. Speaking of which, Seonghwa was right behind your daughter, jogging a little as Hyonjin speeds down the road. 

“There you go, angel! You’re doing great!” He cheered on. 

The little girl just giggles and pedals faster. But due thanks to the laws of physics, she was moving too fast— much too fast. And she didn’t see the mailbox on the side of the road that she was about to crash into. Luckily for you, Seonghwa started sprinting towards her, his arms outstretched. 

“Seonghwa—“ You call out to your husband when you realize what was about to happen.

And by the grace of a miracle, he grabbed Hyonjin by the waist, lifting her out of the tricycle right as it crashed into the mailbox. Your daughter who was blissfully unaware of what had happened just smiled down at your dad. But all color had drained from both parents’ faces, adrenaline rushing through you.

“Daddy! Did you see it? I was going so fast!” Your little girl says to her father, shaking her dad’s arms. 

Your husband smiles weakly but no less bright. “Yes you did angel, but I think you should slow it down a little.” 

yunho :

Eun-jung, your little six-year-old baby girl, squeals as she goes back and forth on the spring rider. You watch from the side with your newly born son in your arms. You, Yunho, and your two little rascals decided it would be fun to have a picnic at the public field nearby. You were just lucky there was a small playground built there.

Your husband laughs along with your little girl as he pulled her back on the spring rider. It was nice to see that he was having just as much fun as his daughter, their energies fueling each other. 

Eun-jung started to rock the rider a little, making it go back and forth a little more violently. Yunho grows a little more apprehensive at the rate she was going but lets her keep going- he didn’t want to ruin her fun after all. And that proved to be a good decision because the moment the spring rider tipped backward, the little girl loses her grip and falls off. 

You yell out to Yunho, your own instincts kicking in, but he was already moving. He held his arms out and caught her by the waist. The force from your daughter being practically thrown off practically sent the two tumbling to the ground. Yunho’s ninja mode flips on and he turns so that he lands on his back instead of falling forward, to avoid crushing his baby girl underneath his weight. 

When he realizes what happened, his eyes widened in excitement. “Aha! I told you bubba, your dad has Spiderman reflexes!” He teases his daughter. 

You roll your eyes in amusement but maybe he wasn’t exaggerating. 

yeosang:

“Doyun, stop moving. Your father is asleep.” You warn your son who was bouncing on his spot on the couch, Yeosang’s head being right beside your son on the couch. 

“Sorry,” He apologizes before returning your attention back to the television. The whole family, apart from Yeosang who was out like a light from working all day, decided to watch a film before heading to bed. Your younger son, Ji-ho, was sat on your lap while your youngest, Haneul, was sat beside you. 

Haneul was only a few months old but could already sit up. Her attention was turned from the television though, instead, focusing on the little insect that managed to crawl into your home. It was slowly making its way across the floor. And Haneul, seeing it skittle away, thought it was a good idea to follow it.

She scoots forward on the couch and fell off the edge. Your hand shot out when you saw her move to the corner of your eye but Yeosang was faster.

Yeosang magically woke up from his nap and his arm just moved on its own accord, pinning the baby to the couch. You grab her legs and gently lay her to the floor while your sons watch in amazement at what had happened. 

“Oh my God dad-” Ji-ho cheers. “That was so cool!”

Yeosang couldn’t help but chuckle, reaching over to pull Haneul and rest her upon his chest. “Thank you, kiddo. But that’s one of the reasons why they married me.” He sends a wink towards you, making you blush. 

“Just watch the dang movie, Kang.”

san: 

“Okay Nari, just let it out,” San cooes to his baby girl, her tiny body laying on his shoulder as he gently pats her back. He had just finished feeding her milk in the kitchen and it was now time for her to burp it out. 

He rocks her back and forth, traveling to the living room where your two-year-old daughter was watching the television. You were away on a business trip, leaving San in charge of taking care of your two little angels. Sooyun turned from her spot on the couch when she saw her dad approaching and smiled, reaching out to him.

“Dada!” She cooed and made grabby hands.

“Hey Yoonie, what are you watching?” He asks her as goes over, standing by the couch. 

“Pororo!” She answered and copied the cute penguin, making her father chuckle. She sees her baby sister in her dad’s arms and reached out to make grabby hands again. “Daddy hold please!” 

San smiles apologetically at her and shook his head. “Not now baby, Nari needs to burp-burp before you can hold her.” 

But the little girl wasn’t having it. She whines and reaches out again, leaning over the side of the couch and reaching up. San turned his torso away and kept telling her no. And in a last attempt to grab her sister, Sooyun jumped up over the side, making her fall over. San’s parental mode kicks in and he sticks his foot out, cushioning her head as she fell to the floor. 

“You okay?” He asks her and she nods her head. “Let’s keep this secret between us? Okay Sooyun?”

“Okay daddy.” 

mingi:

“Song Mingi be careful with Young-soo,” You warn as you recline back on the couch. You were suffering a sore back that day, so you were resting with a warm compress on your back. “That yoga ball you’re bouncing him on is old. It could pop.”

“Don’t worry baby, I have ninja instincts. He’ll be safe.” Mingi assures you as he bounces his son on the ball, making him release a joyous giggle. 

Young-soo squeals in delight as his father turns him around and maneuvers him so that he’s able to do a few front and backflips. Your husband laughs his deep but warm laugh when Young-soo poses like a character in a fighting game. And for a while, you decide that maybe it’s best to let them be. 

But just as you predicted- the ball bursts in midjump. You felt time slow down when you see the rubber fly everywhere, immediately straightening up despite the pain that shot up your spine. Mingi’s large arms grabbed at his son, pulling him up before his face could hit the floor. 

Young-soo starts crying from the loud noise and your husband hurriedly hushes him. “Don’t cry little guy, daddy’s here.” He says and wipes the boy’s tears. It doesn’t take long for Young-soo to calm down. Mingi faces you, a sheepish smile on his face when he sees your unamused expression. 

“Heh, told you,” He stammers. “Ninja instincts.”

wooyoung: 

Wooyoung looks into the pot full of mashed rice and banana pudding with milk- or in other words: baby food. He stirs the pudding, lowering the heat before looking over to his son who was sat patiently in his high chair. He played with his little rattle, keeping himself entertained with the object.

Wooyoung smiles at himself, proud that your little one was well behaved. He had definitely gotten it from you- or at least that what some of his friends and family say. He was left in charge of the house for the day as you were out at your older son’s kindergarten to pick him up.

“Your dad’s almost finished with the best baby food ever,” Wooyoung says proudly and turns off the heat from the pot. As he was busy transferring the pudding to the baby bowl and cleaned up his area as he waited for it to cool, his son starts to rock the chair, growing bored with the rattle.

The high chair slowly gains momentum, tipping over from side to side. Hearing the sudden racket, Wooyoung looks over to the baby, eyes widening at what he saw. He practically leaps over the counter as the high chair tipped over to the left, falling in that direction. 

Before it hits the ground, Wooyoung had slid over, dropping down to his knees and stabilizing the high chair. His son just looks curiously at his father, laughing happily and bonking his father over the head with his rattle.

“Okay, maybe you aren’t as well-behaved as I thought.” Wooyoung winces before chuckling to himself. “Now you got that from me.”

jongho: 

You and your husband Jongho thought it would be a good time to have a vacation at the beach with your twins. The beach resort you had booked had some beach activities for visitors to do- banana boat riding, speedboating, snorkeling, beach volleyball, you name it. It just so happened that one of the activities was ATV riding. 

And of course, your kids knew how well their dad was at driving the thing. So they asked if they could ride one themselves. Your twins were nine-years-old, so you and Jongho didn’t see any problem with letting them ride an ATV by themselves. Of course, he was going to supervise them but he’d rather they learn on their own.

“Alright Young-min, hold onto your sister,” He instructs them while you film from the side, a grin present. “Young-soon, remember this is the break and this makes you accelerate- BUT be easy on the acceleration, gently squeeze it- not press down on it, or else you and your brother will speed away.”

“Yes dad,” The two respond in unison through their helmets. Young-soon seemed so excited though as she was practically vibrating with excitement. 

“Okay kiddos, let her rip,” Jongho says as he steps away. 

The ATV slowly moves forward at a pace that allowed you and your husband to walk alongside it. They slowly gain speed but it was nothing that made you run after them. But your daughter, being so overwhelmed with adrenaline, accidentally squeezed the acceleration too hard, making them zoom forward.

“Whoa- whoa slow down!” You call out to them. 

Jongho’s paternal instincts kicked in and he automatically latched onto the metal part that jutted out of the back of the ATV, clutching onto it for dear life in an attempt to slow down the bike. Before they could crash into the changing shed nearby, he snatches the two up in one arm and pulled them off. The bike breaks to a stop, leaving you jogging up to the three. 

“I can’t believe I caught that in film.” You breathe in disbelief, making your twins look to you excitedly. 

“Can we see???” 

[gingeremo]

My ginger hair, my weight, the way I look, my hobbies and interests, the way I dress, for wearing glasses etc.

I've been verbally abused, punched, kicked, slapped, had stones/rocks thrown at me, had bullies steal my stuff, I've been shoved off walls, pushed down stairs, pushed in front of a car, I've had people burn me with their cigs, I've had boiling water poured on me, I've been cornered to the point where I curled myself up into a ball and started crying to protect myself etc.

I was badly bullied. I hated school and college. I STILL get bullied now. That shit doesn't just stop in the playground, it can last a lifetime. There's no end to it. I haven't forgotten what the bullies did or said to me. It's stuck with me. I was diagnosed with anxiety, depression, PTSD and paranoia because of it and I've tried taking my own life and self-harmed on multiple occasions because of it too. I've overdosed and ended up in hospital because of how it made me feel about myself. It's had a serious affect on my mental health and I hate it. I hate myself because of it.

I bloody DESPISE bullies with a passion! I have ZERO tolerance, patience and sympathy for the nasty, vile cunts. They know EXACTLY what they're doing. There's NO excuse. Bullying has a serious fucking effect on people. Fuck you. You horrible, pathetic, vile bastards.

[imagineslashers]

wowowowow hi, your writing is so good!! ;A; can I please request a femme!blissfield butcher x reader? maybe a shy reader who previously had a crush on Millie and does even more now, but doesn’t know the truth? thank you thank you so much if u can!! or just anything as long as it’s the femme version fkfkdk

thank you so much! here you go! this gets a little saucy but nothing ott! hope you like it!

also, this is kinda tricky to write with pronouns, but because the reader assumes it’s really Millie, i use she/her and the name Millie until the reader realises they’re not really her, if that makes sense!

The anticipation is killing you.

The sound of your heart thudding is only drowned out by the rhythmic thumping of your fingers on the steering wheel as you pull into the seedy bar you’ve been invited to.

It was just on the edge of town, nothing special, the local watering hole filled with exhausted workers and eager players. Not the kind of place you would normally agree to meet someone. As you park up and step out of the car, the wind steals your breath, whipping your hair before retreating with playful whispers.

One text brought you here, and you can’t stop thinking about it.

Wanna play?

Harding’s Bar, 8 PM

- M

You tug anxiously at the bottom of your jacket and pull it tighter around yourself, stepping towards the bar, painfully aware of how loud your shoes are in the quiet evening. The only other sounds are muffled laughter and music pouring out from the slits of the doorway up ahead.

A warm hand grabs at your wrist from behind and you shriek, whirling around to find the calm face of the girl you’ve had a crush on for the longest time. Millie. 

She’s stunning, her red leather jacket reflecting the dim lighting and complimented by her slightly smudged red lipstick. The curls in her ponytail bounce as she tilts her head to survey you, inspecting your outfit, eyes roaming hungrily over your body with an intensity that makes you blush.

Finally, after a few painfully long seconds of her gripping your wrist and staring, she cracks a grin. “Don’t you look just darling.” She coos, releasing your arm which drops limply back at your side as you fumble for something to say.

“Hi Millie.” You manage to push out breathlessly, instantly cringing at how timid you sound. If she notices, she doesn’t show it, instead glancing at the bar behind you. 

“Wanna go for a walk, cutie?” Millie gestures with a jerk of her head towards the dark, empty park across the road. Confusion settles in your mind, wondering why she asked you to a bar if she’s not going to go in. Millie senses this before you can ask the question and she laughs, the sound echoing eerily back to you. “Come on, I don’t want any of those gross men in there seeing you looking like this.” Millie gestures to you, biting her lip for emphasis. “No, you’re all mine tonight. Let’s go somewhere more private.”

Numb and red in the face, you can only nod as Millie grins, easily gripping your hand with more strength than you had expected. She leads you across the empty road and you’re soon both swallowed by the darkness of the park.

You’ve been attracted to Millie for quiet a while, but were always just too shy to ask her out, or find out if she feels the same way. Instead, you’ve been admiring her from afar, pining over her like a puppy. However, you were not always that subtle with your feelings, and the Butcher caught onto those emotions very early, sparking a curiosity that meant he just had to find out more.

When Millie changed to this new bad-girl act, you weren’t exactly put off. It was hot, very hot, but a little concerning that Millie changed so quickly. You still can’t say what it is about her, but she’s different in ways that pull you in even more than before.

She brings you out of your thoughts with a sudden gasp that makes you falter, looking around for the source of her surprise. The playground glints in the moonlight and she pulls you harder, making you stumble as you try to keep up with her relentless pace. Only once she has reached the slide does she stop, turning and pushing you onto the bottom of it. You sit down at once to stop yourself from falling, looking up at her.

“Why did you want to come out with me?” You barely speak above a murmur, and she crouches in front of you at eye level, pursing her lips for a second.

“Hm.” She reaches out with one hand and brushes her fingertips along your jaw. “You’re so cute and innocent, I don’t know why she- I mean, why I never saw that before.” Her voice drops down to match your tone, a sultry murmur, as her fingers venture down your throat. She bats her eyelashes, smiling in a predatory way you’ve never seen her do before. “And you like me too, don’t you, Y/N?” Her hand rests over your throat, fingers curling around the back of your neck, her voice becoming colder and hungry.

You know you’re in danger, this isn’t the Millie you first had a crush on, but you can’t help the way your pulse thrums to life under her fingertips. Instead of backing out, of moving away from her lightly squeezing hand, you can’t help it.

“Y-yes.”

That’s all she needs before she pushes forward, shoving you further up the slide so she can trap you under her body. Her thighs straddle on the outside of yours to keep you in place, one hand on the edge of the slide, the other still lightly squeezing and releasing your throat rhythmically.

You release an involuntary moan and she doesn’t miss it, grinning against your mouth, kissing you like you’re her oxygen and she’s been drowning. Nothing matters, not how weird she’s behaving, not how public this is, not how badly you need to take a breath.

Millie pulls away from you, her hand around your throat now venturing below your shirt as you gasp for air. “You want me, don’t you Y/N? Want me to make you feel good? Want me to make you all mine?” The words becoming more and more threatening, shifting from a purr to a growl as she rakes her fingers across the soft skin of your stomach. 

You’re helpless beneath her and can only whisper your agreement, your fingers bunching in her blonde locks.

“Y/N!” The shout pierces the silence and fills you with alarm. “Y/N! That’s not Millie!” The flustered face of Nyla appears with Josh in tow, and a dark male silhouette following behind them. You’re confused, glancing between the three of them and then to Millie’s exhilarated expression inches from your face.

Time seems to slow as “Millie” begins to smile, swiping her tongue across her lower lip. “Aw, what a shame they’re spoiling our fun!” In a split second, you can see instantly that they’re not lying, no matter how bizarre it may seem; by the glint of mischief and cruelty in “her” eyes, you understand that this is not Millie - but then why are you still attracted to this dangerous stranger?

The Butcher rocks their hips and bites at the skin beneath your jaw while you contemplate how utterly screwed you are in this situation. Before Millie’s friends can reach the two of you, the Butcher grabs you by the hand and yanks you to your feet, taking off back towards the car park of the bar. In their hand, the keys to your car which you hadn’t even noticed them take from your pocket.

“Get in, baby, this isn’t over!” The mix of hysteria and desire in those bright blue eyes makes you compliant as you throw yourself into the passenger seat and strap yourself in tightly.

“Oh shit, what am I doing?!” You can barely say the words as the car is thrown out onto the road, screeching as it tries to grip the road before jumping off down the avenue towards town.

The Butcher laughs in response to your exclamation and pushes hard on the gas, leaving behind Millie’s friends and your sense of self preservation.

[hopeamarsu]

Hello m'lady! I'm so excited to see you're accepting prompts! If this strikes your fancy, may I request : “What happened to us?” and “I can be your reason why.” for our Frankie??? ANGST HOTEL HERE WE COME...MAYBE?!? Thank you for your time 💚🌿💚

My darling lady, I'm so happy to get your request! 💚

One huge dose of angsty Frankie coming right up. Oh, this one has a happy ending too. I hope you enjoy this, I'm sending a lot of hugs your way.

I can be your reason why

Frankie Morales x gn!reader

Word count 1,4k

Warnings: Hospitals, accident, mention of drunk driver, mention of death (Frankie was in the army), angst, sad sad sad, pining, hopeful ending

The room is so white, right down to the bedsheet that covers your lower half.

The white machines hooked on your body, keeping a check on vitals and making sure you are fine, look like something out of a sci-fi film for Frankie. He hates that he has to see them in multitudes as well as the monitors above your bed drawing lines as you breathe and your heart pumps blood and medicine all over your body, healing you.

To say he’d been surprised to get the call from the hospital at 4 in the morning was an understatement when he’d been shocked to the core. Ever since you had had a big fight with him all those months ago, something that was still unsettled and gnawed at his guts, Frankie had been certain he’d been crossed off the list for good and he had only himself to blame.

He had tried to scrub the yelling, the insults, and the low blows out of his mind, but every time he’d glance at his phone and see his wallpaper of you and his daughter smiling together and it would all come back.

“Fuck you, Frankie! I can’t believe you out of all the people would say this! You were supposed to be my friend!”

“Cariño, please…”

“NO! No Frankie, just no. You’ve gone too far this time.”

“Please, please let me explain. Please.”

“Absolutely not. I heard you loud and clear the first time Francisco and, God, what happened to us? Where did we go wrong? I thought you’d… I thought you understood… I thought...”

He can still hear the sniffles, feel the pain in his stomach as he watches you slam the door on his face on the film reel in his mind, and the desperation that creeps up his spine as his texts and calls go unanswered for weeks. He remembers asking the guys to call you and the mountain of ice spreading through his veins when Will told him that you had blocked his number and didn’t want him to contact you.

Frankie contemplated going to your house after that, but what good would it do? He was broken, beaten and lying breathless on the ground. Nothing would help him rise from there. Definitely not you. He is still all those things and more because he doesn’t have you beside him to weather out the stormy seas.

Getting cut off from you hurt him on levels he had trouble comprehending. Frankie had gotten used to you being around, comfortable in the knowledge that you had always been there as his friend and would always be there and that was his grave mistake.

All those moments in the playground swing back in teenage years when he escaped the yelling and shouting in his house, turbulent times in college where he began experimenting with his sexuality and life all the way to his high-risk career in the Army, the coke rap and losing his lady to another man. You had always been there for him.

You had been his rock and his most ardent supporter, Santi hot on your heels but never reaching the level of trust and intimacy you shared with Frankie. All the times he fucked up, needed a shoulder to cry on or a couch to sleep off his desire to go out and find one of his bad habits for a visit, you opened your door to help him. And what had he done for you? Fuck all but trouble and heartbreak and pain in measures he can never pay back.

He hangs his head, his ballcap twisted between his fists as he wrings the fabric to give himself something to do. He would do anything, everything to take back the last 3 and half months and just hold you tight and tell you that he believes in you and will stand by you in all the ways you want him.

But you are sleeping, eyes closed, hooked up to all the machines that monitor your body and Frankie cannot do that. He’s not sure if he’s even allowed to touch you, because just being in the same room as you without your permission feels like an invasion of sorts.

“Cariño, if you can hear me, I am so sorry. I’m so sorry for all the words, all the insults thrown in your face and all the pain I’ve caused you. I wish… I wish I could take it all back.”

He whispers, placing his hand next to you where it lays on top of the bedsheet. The difference between them shocks him still, your elegant fingers next to his calloused and battered ones. The way your skin is unmarred by scars where he has all these silver lines criss-crossing his knuckles.

Taking care to avoid the IV line, he gently moves your hand into his and sighs at the first connection in months. The softness of your hand against his roughness is still something out of a dream; how something so beautiful and lovely and gorgeous could ever want something so dark, drenched in the blood of people he’s killed and lost count of is a mystery Frankie never hopes to have to solve.

Like a thief in the night, he steals yet one more moment with you as he squeezes your hand gently. And like a greedy one too, he rises from the creaky plastic hospital chair and kisses your forehead, pushing his luck a little further. Frankie begins talking, his deep timbre bouncing off the walls as he tells you stories you’ve heard a thousand times already but which bring him comfort.

His thumb strokes your knuckles softly, a soothing gesture more for him than you, while he continues telling you things. Time ticks by and Frankie’s voice grows tired and gravely, but he refuses to stop. He talks about Will, Benny and Santi, the ways all of them get together weekly and he talks about Olivia, his pride and joy, and how she grows and how she misses you. How he misses his friend.

The tone tinges with sadness as Frankie starts to talk about your accident and what has happened in the past couple of days. “They caught him, the drunk bastard that ran the red light. He’s in custody and the traffic cameras have him on tape. You are not going to have to see him, he’ll be locked up for a good time. You just need to get better, cariño, so you can kick my ass in softball again and tell me Oreos taste superior when dunked in cold milk.”

He takes a deep breath, blinking away to keep his raw emotions hidden. Had you not changed your medical info and your contact in case of emergency details, he wouldn’t even be here with you, known about your accident, and the mere idea breaks him, wounds him deep. He hides his tears in his sleeve as he tries to gather himself up again. Frankie needs to be strong now, you have a long recovery ahead of you and he will do his best to help you.

“Te amo, mi corazón y mi alma. Por favor, vuelve a mi. I want to kiss you and tell you I belong to you, that I love you more than as a friend. You hold my heart already and I will gladly give it to you if you come back to me. Smile for me again. I can be your reason why, I’ll do anything to see your soft lips grinning at me, with me...” It becomes too much and Frankie folds in half, draping his upper body on the bed as he cries uncontrollably.

He doesn’t know how long he weeps, the seconds and minutes all blurring together as the sleeves of his shirt go from damp to soaked but he doesn’t care. Frankie loves you and he almost lost you for good and he cannot hold it in anymore. He loves you and he needs to tell you.

He’s so deep inside his mind that he doesn’t recognize the weight on top of his head first. But when fingers card through his locks repeatedly and the motion registers, he’s shocked into reality. Frankie lifts his head carefully, eyes blurry and almost afraid of what he will see.

Your eyes are droopy but the small upturn of the corners of your lips as you regard him softly forces another sob from his chest and it takes all of his willpower not to kiss you right then and there. Your hand doesn’t stop moving as you look at each other in silence, fingers in his curls and Frankie is finally back home, breathing freely.

His lips move, though no sound comes out, telling you te amo over and over again.

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