#if you saw me post this before I had the right format… no you didn’t shush

[xthe-moonletx]

“You mean, like a sudden rainstorm forces them together beneath a canopy

they look into each other’s eyes

and realize they were made for each other.”

_____________________________________________

Here’s a revamp of a piece I drew about a year ago, now fully rendered and refreshed! It’s a spin-off of Pierre Aguste Cott’s The Storm that I thought fit the ineffables perfectly :)

[bearambles]

Okok little request if ur up for it. Just Hamzah x reader (gn if mentioned) where they have a smoke sesh together in his new apartment but reader gets too comfortable and accidentally falls asleep on Hamzah with the cats.

Just pure fluff lmaoo I just can't get the thought out of my head I need to grip his shirt like a child he just looks so comfy :')

Also idc what format it can be headcanon or a small fic, whatever u feel!!

close to you 🎀 (hamzah)

words: 1.1k

warnings: use of weed, making out, fluff, established relationship

note: hi lovelies!! im so sorry for the lack of posts recently - im on vacation and ive had no time or motivation. on the ride home though, im gonna try to catch up to requests!! and im thinking abt writing smut again 🤭

“do you wanna smoke?”

hamzahs head turns from looking at the ceiling to looking at you. he looks almost nervous, his eyes darting across your face like he did the first time he kissed you. you smile at the thought and sit up on his bed.

he’d invited you over to see his new apartment (finally). you’d ended up in his room playing with his new cats, blue and red, who seemed to take a liking to you. blue sits in your lap now, and you scratch behind her ears as you speak.

“like, a blunt?”

he stays laying down, red lying on his chest. he pets her and laughs softly.

“nah, i have a pen. but it’s the same idea.”

he raises an eyebrow, “you have smoked before, right?”

you blush, your face heating up. you look down to the kitty in your lap, and bring both legs up so they’re crossed.

“duh. just like. once or twice in high school, though. and…” you trail off.

“and?” he asks, picking up red in his arms and sitting up next to you.

“i don’t think i did it right. like, i didn’t really feel anything.” you admit

“oh okay. that’s okay. i mean like- if you don’t wanna-“

“no, i do.” you say quickly, “i just - like you’ll have to teach me i guess. that sounds stupid. but the first time was like, a bong and i totally didn’t inhale shit.”

he laughs, and the sound makes you crack a smile, even after embarrassing yourself. he’s wearing his camo hoodie, and his curls are just the perfect amount of messy. one falls into his eyes and he blushes it away with his palm.

“that’s okay, i can show you. though, i don’t know how great a teacher i’ll be.”

he places red in your lap next to blue and gets up from the bed, going to dig through his drawers for his pen. you watch the way he moves, the way his sweatshirt rides up and shows a bit of his back. the way his pants fit. you look away when you catch yourself being a creep.

he finds it and goes to sit in front of you this time, near the end of the bed. he’s closer now, his legs matching yours in a sort of lazy criss-cross. he observes the device in his hands for a second before bringing it to his lips and inhaling.

when he releases the smoke, he tilts his head up and you stare at his neck. the smoke leaves his lips slowly and quickly disappears. he looks back to you and holds it out for you to take.

“it’s gonna die soon so we can just finish it today.” he says as you grab the pen from his hand, “unless you like, go crazy after a few hits.”

you roll your eyes and look at the pen in your hand, before lifting it to your mouth. you look to him for confirmation and he nods, so you deeply inhale like you saw him do.

“okay, now inhale again, and you’ll feel it in the back of your throat.”

you do as he says and feel it - it sort of burns. after a moment you puff out your cheeks and then release the smoke, slow at first. that is until you cough, and the rest comes out.

he laughs and takes the pen from your hand.

“you okay?”

you nod, but keep coughing for a moment. sitting up, you reach your hand out again, wiggling your fingers to ask for the pen back. he raises an eyebrow at you.

“you want it again already.” you nod. “alright, but be careful, for real. don’t do too much just to impress me.”

you give him a look.

“i’m not, i swear. just, lemme try again okay?”

he hands you the pen and you take another hit, this one burning less. you feel it in your head, and you smile as you let out the smoke into his face. he waves his hand to get it away, but he’s laughing.

“thatta girl, hey, you feel good?”

“i feel great.” you say, going in to kiss him. he kisses back and leans forward, wrapping his hands around your waist. you uncross your legs and sit up on your knees.

his mouth is soft and you moan into it as he moves his hands down to the back of your legs, lifting you onto his waist. from there he moves back so he’s up against the bedframe with you in his lap.

it’s like that for the next hour - slow kisses and the pen passed between you two. neither of you suggest anything more despite your closeness (and hamzahs obvious hard-on). there’s a soft sort of feel to the moment.

“i wanna try something.” he says eventually, taking the device from your fingers and moving it to his mouth.

you look at him with curiosity and lean back slightly to watch. he pushes the smoke around in his mouth a bit before taking your face in both of his hands and pulling you close. you open your mouth to kiss him, but he stays just an inch away, and while your lips are parted, blows the smoke into your open mouth.

inhaling it, you smile against his mouth and properly kiss him. you can feel his grin forming too. he deepens the kiss and his hold on your waist tightens.

when he pulls away, his eyes dance across your face and his mouth rests in a lazy smile.

“what?” you ask, regarding his staring problem

“just so…so fuckin pretty.”

you bite your lip to hide your grin and shake your head. your hair is a mess after all that’s happened and your makeup is smeared. still, hamzah seems mesmerized.

you bury your head in his neck for him to hold you. his hoodie smells like the smoke and a bit of his cologne. you breathe in and out repeatedly, smelling him. he smells so good, so safe.

slowly you slump down to lay on his chest. on instinct, his hand reaches to play with your hair, pushing it out of your face.

it’s funny, hamzah never seemed handsy before this. you never considered him someone who likes physical touch - not with friends or even family, mostly. but with you it’s different. he didn’t expect it either, but as soon as he felt your soft skin on his, he never wanted it any other way.

the motion of him stroking your hair makes you sleepy and eventually your eyes drift closed. you sleep for hours - if you had any actual plans for the day you would wake up stressed and anxious. instead, you wake up and see his head above yours, resting against his pillow.

he’s fallen asleep too.

-

i hope you enjoyed! requests are open! >_<

[danny-doodles]

A 1k steddie ficlet I wrote based on an idea of mine and I delivered it to twt so I thought I should post it here too lol. If the formatting is wrong or it has typos just shhhhh

💌

For about what felt like the millionth time in his ten long years of life Eddie Munson was wishing to be anywhere but school.

The experience of getting bullied was nothing compared to the humiliation of Valentine’s Day. It was no secret the Munsons weren’t the richest but the crappy capitalist holiday made it clear, while everyone else in his class had pretty pink and red cards with some dumb sucker attached, Eddie came empty handed. Before moving in with Wayne Eddie might have been mad about not having anything to pass out cause Dad made another mistake, but with Uncle Wayne he wasn’t upset. Money was already tight before Eddie came along, and it didn’t matter really to him anyway. Wasn’t like anyone in his class wanted one from him, being the poor kid who got held back caused his pool of friends to be lacking.

With his chin on the desk, Eddie watched as the students before him got called to pass around their grams. And every time without fail they skipped putting any in his valentines box. It’s the same thing that happened every year before, his title of weirdo getting broadcasted to other students like a warning that screamed, “Interact with him and you will become an outcast too.” Even after experiencing it year after year it always hurt.

The teacher continued to call the names and with every pass Eddie felt the familiar burn of holding back tears, the embarrassment increasing. Right as he was about to hide his head in his arms to allow some tears to escape he saw a motion he hadn’t seen before.

A hand putting a card in his box. Dumb lollipop and everything.

Eddie quickly looked to see who was attached to the hand and found a sight he never expected.

Steve Harrington smiling down at him.

Just as quick as he arrived, Steve moved on to continue putting the cards in the other students boxes but that didn’t matter to Eddie. No, all that mattered was the fact Steve Harrington gave Eddie Munson a valentines card. A boy with shiny hair and the most picture perfect smile gave the trailer park trash a gram.

Trying to be subtle, Eddie grabbed the box on his desk to get the card, not like a miracle was going to happen twice in one day. Gently pulling the sole gram out Eddie read what it said, “Right Off The Bat Valentine You Made A Hit With Me,” with the text was the image of a black bear dressed as a baseball player using a bat. Eddie looked back up to Steve’s seat and watched as Steve sat back down and resumed whatever task the teacher had given to pass the time.

Eddie had avoided looking at Harrington or any of his friends for too long in fear of what would come from his stares and he liked walking home not bruised physically or mentally thank you very much. While staring at Steve, Eddie started to think back to all his interactions with the boy with the pretty dots.

Steve himself had never said something mean to Eddie, never laid a finger on him or anything. Sure he didn’t stop his friends from doing so, but Eddie swore he could see a look of displeasure on Harrington’s face sometimes. One time, Steve even tried to help Eddie salvage some drawings Tommy had ripped apart. It was a lost cause, and the moment Hagan called his name Steve softly apologized and raced back to the freckle faced jerk, but it was the thought that counts.

So busy reminiscing Eddie didn’t even notice the teacher skipping his name when it came to the M’s portion. Eddie didn’t notice much else that day unless it included Steve.

When Eddie got back home he carefully zipped open his banged up backpack and grabbed out the gram. Chucking his bag to the floor without looking, Eddie walked to his is room, successfully dodging the door frame he just barely noticed. He ran, and after aggressively kicking off his shoes jumped onto the bed. With his hands raised in the air Eddie locked his sight on the card. As more images of Steve popped into his mind Eddie could feel his smile taking over his face. He felt like a shaken soda ready to burst, he was ready to explode due to all the excitement. The butterflies in his stomach were at critical capacity, he couldn’t help but giggle as he drew the card to his chest and clung onto it.

When Wayne came home he found Eddie lying on his bed kicking his feet in the air, tracing the words on the card with a smile showing off his dimples. When Wayne knocked on the frame Eddie shot up like a rocket, “Uncle Wayne! I got one!!” Eddie scrambled to get off his bed while ensuring the gram didn’t get damaged. “Look Uncle Wayne I actually got one!!”

Wayne put his hand on Eddie’s head to stop him from running right into him then moved his hand the his shoulder, “You got one what?” Eddie shoved the card into Wayne’s face, ”A Valentine’s Day card!” Eddie brought the card back down and went back to staring at it, “Ive never gotten one before.” While Eddie was softly smiling down at the gram he missed the frown cross Wayne’s face. Kid was excited like he won a million dollars, all over something that other kids would take for granted ninety nine percent of the time.

“Well kid, that sounds mighty kind of them. Who gave it to ya?”

“Steve Harrington!” Simply saying the name caused Eddie to start dancing on his feet as he started waving the card around. Wayne couldn’t quite believe his ears, a Harrington doing something nice to a boy like Eddie seemed unlikely.

“Really now, little Harrington gave you it?”

“Mhm,” Eddie aggressively shook his head up and down and started cradling the card to his chest as he continued, “He smiled at me and everything, and he actually is really sweet, I mean clearly cause he gave me a card, but he actually helped me against some bullies, well he tried to, but its the thought that counts! And I mean it really checks out he would be nice, he’s like a carbon copy of a prince from a fairytale with his shiny hair and-“

“Alighty son I get your point,” Wayne said while letting a small chuckle out. Eddie was twirling a piece of his hair with a finger and his face grew as red as a sunburn while he babbled on about Steve Harrington. Wayne knew later on he would have to talk to Eddie about how people may react to him calling another boy beautiful but for now he could enjoy Eddie’s reaction to a having a crush. Laying his hand back on Eddie’s head he ruffled his curls causing giggles to pour out of the boy while he cried uncle.

“Sounds like a real charmer, I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks Uncle Wayne. Oh! Do you think you could help me keep it safe, I don’t want to damage it.”

“Sure kid, let’s get this little card a proper home.” After giving Eddie the rest of the day to smile sweetly at the card they found the perfect spot for the card. All throughout middle and high school that card would remain there, a reminder of a time Eddie experienced any sort of kindness in the shit show that is Hawkins.

It would stay there until it was finally time for Eddie to leave the nest. With a subtle smile on his face Wayne watched as Eddie turned pink while talking to his boyfriend/soon to be roommate Steve Harrington, in his hands the small little card. Faded with time but still clear enough to tell the basics. Wayne watched as a large smile grew on Steve’s face, a look of pure adoration aimed at Wayne’s nephew. When Eddie finished talking from behind his curtain of hair Steve pulled him in and started leaving quicks kisses all over Eddie’s face.

Wayne watched as the couple giggled at each other and saw Eddie gently place the card into a small box holding other photos and keep sakes, a reminder of where their story began.

[millysastroblog]

Tik Tok Accounts stealing Content from Tumblr Astro Bloggers

!!!!!Warning!!!!!!!

@millysastroblog

So, early this morning, I was just randomly scrolling on TikTok and saw an astrology post. At first, I found it really interesting because it stated something I wrote in my own "Random Astro Observations" post from two years ago. But as I kept reading, I started noticing that the rest of the sentences also sounded way too similar to mine.

And then… BOOM. It hit me. Some random dumbass had the audacity to straight-up steal my content from Tumblr without ever asking for permission or giving credit. And no, this wasn’t one of those typical screenshot posts, it was a self-written post, formatted in a way that made it look like it was their original work. TikTok users would probably assume that this account was the real creator, but NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. IT’S FUCKING NOT.

These people don’t just steal and screenshot your work without giving credit, they go as far as rewriting it, editing small parts, slapping their own name on it, and then answering comments as if they actually have the same knowledge and insight as the original creator.

I was shocked. Because before realizing this, I actually thought that the TikTok account was creating their own observations. But no it’s fake. They just copy, paste, and claim it as theirs.

Like, I know you mediocre, good-for-nothing people don’t actually understand the astrology content you post. You just like the attention, the likes, and the views. Meanwhile, people like me have actually studied astrology for YEARS. I mean that I've spent over 5+ years studying astrological placements, reading charts, and truly understanding the deeper meanings. I didn’t just skim through random posts and use them as "resources" to build my own platform. I actually sat my ass down and studied for HOOOOUUURRSSS every single day because I genuinely wanted to understand myself and the people around me. Astrology has always been a passion for me.

I love learning new information, analyzing people’s placements, reading synastry and composite charts (which, let’s be real, these people probably don’t even know what those are). At this point, I could read someone’s birth chart and tell them things they aren’t even fully aware of themselves. BUTTTT the fact that some random Susanne or Tom really thinks they can just steal my content, build their own fan base off of my work, and assume I won’t find out? That’s actually diabolical.

Let’s be honest you guys don’t know shit about astrology like that. The only reason you even have information to post on TikTok is because of original creators who actually have talent, knowledge, and a passion for sharing it.

ALL OF YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED.

It’s okay to start as a beginner and learn at your own pace. I mean bitch there is CHatGPT now like I don't understand. But doing it in a dishonest and disrespectful way? That’s just wrong, and you know it. You just don’t care.

All I’m trying to say is that this shit needs to MF STOP NOW!

I’m tired of having to remind 5–10 TikTokers that this content is MINE!!!!!!!! And in general, just stop doing this to other bloggers too. Just stop. It’s not fair, and you know it.

Have some respect. Let it be. Create your own original posts and share them with whoever you want, but let us Tumblr bloggers rest. For god’s sake, we are tired of our work being ripped off left and right. It’s immature, it’s childish, and it needs to end.

And to that dumbass TikTok user who literally stole my shit DELETE IT NOW. Hoe, I SAID NOW. I know you’re going to see this.

I will make sure your page gets reported , hoe!!!.

Tik Tok account to ban:

⬇️

- @thehorowitch (Copy & paste Tik toker)

And so many moreeeeeeee !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[alwaysthebiggerbear]

where is she? - Soldier Boy x Female Reader

Summary: Soldier Boy only has one thought in mind when Homelander wakes him up: you.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader A/N: Wrote this on 7/29/24. This was meant to be a drabble and I was going to experiment with a different format at the time but after taking another look at it close to a month later, I decided against it. I haven't seen Season 4 of The Boys yet but I did see a gif on here of something from the finale in regards to SB. This idea popped into my head that day and I wrote it out. Starts from the Tower scene in 3x08, an AU. Unbeta'd. Full dialogue in text is from 3x08. Warnings: drug use; violence; violence against a woman; choking (not Butcher/Boys friendly) Word Count: 1019 First posted on here: 8/31/24 dividers by @firefly-graphics

You burst into the room from the stairwell, finding Ben trying to fight three of your new supposed teammates off, his eyes full of fury and a slight tinge of fear immediately finding you as they slipped a mask over his face. “I’m not…going back…in that fucking box!”

“Get off of him! Now !” You angrily yelled, energy pulsing from your hands as you tried to rush them when Butcher caught you off guard and knocked you into a wall on his way to get to Ryan. 

“Sorry, luv.” His expression was full of trace amounts of remorse as he turned from you but you didn’t care. Your attention was on Ben alone.

When Ben saw you slam into the wall, even more fury seemed to emanate from him and he was finally able to push everyone off. His chest was a bright pulsing red that continued to get brighter and brighter; he was charged up and he was about to blow.

“You’ll kill everyone!” Starlight implored.

Ben’s expression didn’t change and you knew you had to get to him before he went off. You didn’t care about any of them, especially now, and you didn’t care for yourself. But Ben you cared about and you wouldn’t let him do this — not again. 

“Ben!” You called. 

Within the seconds it took for you to get to your feet, Maeve was already launching herself at him and they crashed through the window of the high rise, plummeting stories below. “No!” You rushed to the edge, watching their freefall in horror. “BEN!” You screamed before the impact of the explosion sent you careening backwards.   

When Soldier Boy was woken for the second time, uncaring who was there to greet him, he only had one question. “Where is she?”

America’s Asshole of a Son, now suited up, stared out at the city from Homelander’s newly renovated suite. His own son watched him, keeping his hands clasped behind his back.

“It could all be ours, you know.”

“Don’t care,” Soldier Boy growled out. “Where’s Butcher?”

Homelander sighed in disappointment and approached. He didn’t know much about the man whose blood he shared but one thing was for certain: Soldier Boy was laser focused when it came to revenge. He just happened to be focused on the wrong thing.

When he reached the older man, he studied him for a moment before nearly rolling his eyes. “You actually loved her.”

He shouldn’t have been surprised when Soldier Boy turned a lethal glare onto him, his pupils dilated from the drugs coursing through his system that he’d just snorted, but it still caught him a little off guard. Homelander didn’t feel shame or remorse; those were human feelings and he was a god. But right then, he felt like a small child scolded by that dark gaze and his shoulders subconsciously lowered an inch.

“Find me Butcher or I will find him on my own,” the Supe threatened before walking away. Homelander watched him go, angry that even while dead you somehow still managed to fuck with his plans.

Right before Soldier Boy was about to strike a killing blow to Butcher, Hughie yelled, “She’s alive!” The Supe froze and turned a scowl onto Butcher’s dickrest. 

“I promise,” the bitch insisted. “I can tell you where she is! Just don’t kill him. Please.”

Soldier Boy’s glare dropped to the man swaying in his hold, his face bloodied, bruised, and swollen. The supe’s jaw tensed and he dropped the man to the ground, making him a silent promise that he would still pay for his betrayal, before his eyes landed on Hughie. “Take me to her. And you better be telling me the fucking truth or you’re never going to get to feel the warmth of this fucker’s mouth again.”

Hughie’s eyes widened but he gave a nod. A hint of a smirk teased the corner of Soldier Boy’s lips for a moment and then disappeared completely. Before following the bitch out the door, he gave Butcher one last kick for good measure.

Soldier Boy tightened his grip on Grace Mallory’s throat and lifted her body higher up the wall. He ignored Hughie’s whiny pleas of not hurting the old bitch. “Open it,” he ordered. “Now.”

Hughie did just that. The supe could hear a whirring sound behind him and he intensified his glare at the woman he was currently choking out before turning to look over his shoulder. Out of a drawer, a cryotube emerged, looking quite different from the one he had been in when his pussy of a son had found him. His breath caught in his chest when he saw you inside, slumbering peacefully, tubes wrapped around your barely dressed body. Rage began to flow through his veins when he realized that you had been stocked away inside a fucking sock drawer like a second thought — like you had never mattered. You were the only thing that mattered.

He turned back to Mallory, gritting his teeth, and his body shaking with fury. He saw the lack of fear in her eyes and in a split second, his decision had been made. He flung her across the room, not caring about the sickening cracks he heard when she made impact. For good measure, when Hughie tried to run to her aid, he brutally knocked the kid aside and made his way towards you. Within seconds, he had the cryotube open and he ripped the wires from your body. He curled his arm around your shoulders and carefully hoisted you up into his lap.

A few heartbeats later, your eyes slowly began to open, your lashes fluttering repeatedly as you returned to consciousness. Your gaze struggled for a minute to focus on the image in front of you but when it did, you rasped out in disbelief, “Ben?”

A soft smile played upon his lips as he ferried your hand to his bearded cheek. “Yeah, doll. It’s me.” 

When you attempted to return his smile, he leaned down to whisper, “I found you,” before he gently pressed his mouth to yours.

[ragingbookdragon]

To Die For A Friend Is An Honor

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 1.7K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: Okay, so I changed the reason a little bit but I like this more :D

**********************************************************************

Post-mission, the celebration at Hard Deck was off the wall. Beer and food flowed as conversation and cheer erupted at every table. The team was gathered at the back pool tables, drinking, and enjoying each other’s company, for once, no one was sniping at each other. Even Hangman and Rooster were leaning off one another, joking and laughing. Phoenix sat next to Bob at the table beside the pool game, quietly chatting when Bob’s gaze flickered around, taking in the sight before he stopped on someone coming in.

His eyes widened and he patted Phoenix’s arm. “Natasha,” he said, and she frowned, pulling her arm back.

“What? What?”

He nodded to the woman in a wheelchair talking to a pilot who was pointing towards their group. “It’s her. It’s Hangman’s wingman.”

Phoenix looked in her direction, her own eyes widening. “Ja—Hangm—dude,” she called out and Hangman looked at her.

“What?”

She nodded behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder in a disinterested fashion until he saw her wheeling over, and his eyes went wide, jaw going slack as she stopped in front of the steps leading down to the pool table.

“Pretty girl?” he breathed, arm falling from Rooster’s shoulder as shock coursed through him.

“Hey you,” she smiled. “Congratulations on another confirmed.”

Jake walked on shaky legs to her and bent over, pulling her into a tight hug. “What are you doing here?” he breathed, and she recognized the way his voice held unshed tears.

She wrapped her arms around his back and patted it. “Vice Admiral Simpson called me and let me know when you’d all be having this fun little shindig.” As he pulled back, she looked at him. “I figured I’d come and see you.”

He was quick to wipe his eyes, taking her hand; he squeezed it tight. “It means a lot that you came,” he murmured.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Jake,” she said softly, and Bob walked over, looking nervous but excited.

“It is such an honor to meet you,” he said almost enamored, and she smiled, holding out her right hand.

“The honor’s mine…?”

“Bob, Bob Floyd,” he answered and shook her hand. “I was on sea duty when you got your medal. We all watched it on the TV in the wardroom.”

“Then my reputation precedes me,” she smiled, and the others walked over.

“What medal?” Coyote asked and Bob huffed.

“Only the greatest achievement you can get for exemplary service!”

All their eyes widened, and Rooster looked over Hangman’s shoulder. “You got a Medal of Honor?”

“I did,” she answered. “For service above and beyond the call of duty while defending a fellow airman in combat.”

Hangman went quiet at the mention, but the others dragged tables and chairs up to her wheelchair to hear the story and she laughed lightly as they did. After they ordered her a beer and some food, she sat there and began telling them the story of her and Hangman’s flying history.

“Jake and I actually went to flight school together. We were neck and neck during all drills and exercises, just always trying to top dog the other. When we graduated, we actually got commissioned in the same squadron on the same ship. Our Lieutenant made us wingmen, but that rivalry never stopped even when we grew closer.”

Fanboy leaned up. “How’d you get paralyzed?” he asked, and the others whacked at him and tossed fries his way; even Hangman glared at him. “Uh, sorry, I didn’t—”

“No, it’s okay,” she smiled softly, and looked at Hangman. “You okay if I tell?”

He nodded quietly and murmured, “It’s your story to tell…not mine.”

She patted his leg beneath the table. “We were doing routine flybys in the Gulf of Oman. Jake took behind me in formation as I had just been promoted to LTJG and maintained rank above. We’d been doing flybys for almost a week without an issue. We got…complacent,” she said. “We didn’t think the enemy had SAMs.”

She took a sip of her beer. “Jake’s radar pinged incoming first, then mine.” She went quiet, thinking for a moment. “I didn’t think, I just acted. Hit my brakes, went high, let Jake fly under me.” A chill settled among everyone. “I remember pulling the ejection handle just as one hit me. It was so hot. So loud.” She shook her head. “The next thing I remember was hitting the water and then I was waking up in sickbay on a bed.”

“And you got paralyzed?” Fanboy asked.

Another round of fries flew his way.

“I don’t remember if I pulled my chute late or if I did at all, but when I hit the water, it was like hitting concrete. The force shifted through the water, to the seat, into my legs and crushed my pelvis and spinal cord. I’m actually lucky I didn’t end up quadriplegic from the crash.”

She took another sip of her beer. “Once I was out of sickbay and back onto land, they had me in rigorous PT to build back strength. Of course, my Naval career was done. I was medically discharged, with honor, but I was still let go. It was a few months after that, that I was contacted by SECNAV and White House rep and told that I was being awarded the Medal of Honor. And the rest is history.”

She smiled at everyone, and Rooster looked at her. “Would you do it again?” he asked. “If you knew you’d die?”

His words caused silence, and she met his gaze, a firm, but respectable look on her face. “To die in service of country is our duty. To die in service of a friend? That’s honor,” she answered, then looked at Jake. “And I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

Everyone sat impressed and humbled by her words, and she smiled. “Now, you have got to tell me about this mission! Jake hasn’t told me anything, and of course I understand complete secrecy, but I won’t tell a soul.”

***

He locked her wheelchair in place, smiling when she swatted his hands and pulled herself into the bed. “I can do it myself,” she sniped. “I’ve only been doing it for years.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “I’m just trying to help you into bed. Isn’t it sexy for a man to carry a woman to bed?”

“Mmm, there’s not enough rose petals or wine for that,” she teased, and he smiled as he watched her get comfortable, pulling the covers up over her.

She patted the bedside, and he kicked off his shoes and socks before he striped to his boxers and crawled in beside her. Inhaling and exhaling deeply, she closed her eyes as peace settled between them.

“I missed this,” she said softly. “It’s been a long time since we did this.”

“About a year,” he murmured, laying on his back, head turned in the side of the pillow to look at her. “Did you have a good time tonight?”

“I did,” she answered. “Your buddies are a good group.”

“Do you miss it?” he asked.

“Sometimes. Working with veterans, it’s not exactly like it was in the Navy, but there’s still that camaraderie there. If anything, I miss the absolute structure I had. Without it, I had to make my own schedule and that shit sucks.”

He smiled, looking at her; she appeared so peaceful with her eyes closed. Jake reached over, laying a hand on her lower stomach, thumb gently brushing over the blanket.

There was something about being in her presence that broke him down to more than just a cocky pilot.

It broke him down to a man.

“What you said at the bar…” he said softly. “Did you mean it?”

“Which part?” she asked, eyes still closed.

“That you’d do it again if it meant you’d die for me.”

“I did.”

When he didn’t respond, she opened her eyes and turned her head, expression falling when she saw half of his face not covered by the pillow, tears in his eye.

“Jake…”

“I’m not worth dying for,” he choked out. “God, I’m not worth your life.”

She shifted onto her side, gently laying her arm on his chest, hand cupping his cheek as she thumbed his tears. “Oh, honey,” she murmured.

He shut his eyes amidst the torrent of emotions flaring in his chest. “Don’t die for me, God, please don’t die for me.”

“Jake…”

“I can’t lose you, pretty girl. I can’t.”

“Jake,” she said again, stroking his cheek. “Honey, look at me.”

He opened his eyes, lashes slick with tears, lips pursed to keep from wobbling.

“I made that choice that day to protect you. Not as your commanding officer. But as your friend.” She searched his gaze, her own firm. “I wasn’t scared. I knew if I died, I’d be giving my life for my friend. For my best friend. And I didn’t regret it. Honey, I will never regret that choice. And I will always put the lives of the people I care about above my own. Then, and now.”

Jake looked at her. “I don’t want you to die for me.”

She smiled tiredly. “Well, unless they make a jet that paralyzed people can fly, I won’t be doing it anytime soon.” She wiped his eye again. “Now stop crying, you’re too handsome to cry like this.”

He moved his hand from her stomach to take hers in it, gently pressing his lips to her palm. “I love you, pretty girl.”

“I love you, Jake,” she smiled and poked his nose. “Hey, float like a butterfly?”

“Sting like a bee,” he answered softly, smiling at her. “Command gave us two weeks before we return to posts. Do you wanna spend it with me?”

“Of course,” she said. “Whatever else would I do in Nevada?”

“Wanna go to Vegas?”

“Hell yes.”

He kissed her wrist and laced their fingers, laying their conjoined hands on the pillow between their heads; she reached up with her other and turned out the bedside lamp.

“Goodnight, Jake,” she murmured.

“Goodnight, pretty girl.”

Jake waited until her breathing evened out in the night before he shut his eyes, pulling their hands closer to him as he drifted off into sleep.

[kaleidoscopecth]

Just Take Off Your Mask

MDNI!!!!

pairing: luke hemmings x reader

summary: after going MIA for a few days, luke shows up at you and your best friend michael’s shared apartment on halloween, desperate to make amends.

warnings: smut, overstimulation, toy usage, slight knife play, blink and you’ll miss it hint of a slightly toxic relationship

word count: 4.6k

title: robbers by the 1975

a/n: Okkkkayyyyy, so I saw someone request a Ghostface Luke fic somewhere and it got me thinking. Originally, I wrote this with an OC from a fic i’m working on, but ended up switching to an x reader format. This is my first post here on Tumblr, so bear with me if it’s a little wonky or if I make any mistakes. I also edited this myself, so if you catch anything I missed, please let me know!

anyway, this is for my twt gc, i love u freaks

Copyright © 2024 kaleidoscopecth. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You sat slouched on the couch of your shared apartment with Michael, mindlessly scrolling through Netflix in a futile attempt to find something that could distract you from Luke’s absence. No matter how hard you tried, your focus kept slipping.

Michael had begged you to come with him to a Halloween party earlier, but you’d refused. Not for the first time, you had turned down something you would have enjoyed—all because of Luke.

Your gaze drifted to the phone on the coffee table, the absence of notifications glaring back at you like a silent taunt. You forced your eyes back to the TV, but your thoughts refused to cooperate. Three days. It had been three days since he disappeared without a word. He’d promised to spend Halloween with you, yet he hadn’t shown.

The creeping fear you always tried to suppress began to rise. It was the same fear that gripped you whenever Luke disappeared, leaving you in the dark without so much as a message to say he was okay. You hated how easily it consumed you, how it made you question what you even meant to him. Were you really his girlfriend? Or just a convenience?

Before the spiral could go any deeper, your phone buzzed sharply, its ringtone breaking the heavy silence. You nearly launched yourself off the couch, scrambling to grab the device, only to fumble it in your haste. The phone skittered across the table, but you snatched it up, heart racing as you answered.

Luke’s name flashed on the screen.

Your heart leapt, but you forced your tone to remain steady as you answered. “Was starting to think you were the victim of a bad horror movie,” You mused, your fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on your pajama pants while you awaited his response.

The line crackled with his heavy, slightly muffled breathing before he finally spoke. “So,” he began, drawing out the word, his tone laced with cocky amusement. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

Your brow furrowed at his breathy voice, noticeably deeper than usual. “Yeah,” You replied, the confusion in your tone clear. “It’s you, dummy.”

A low chuckle rumbled through the speaker, sending a shiver down your spine. “Open your door, Y/ N,” Luke drawled, his voice dripping with something dark and teasing. “You’re looking… lonely.”

You froze, pulse quickening. “What the hell has gotten into you?” You asked, scrambling off the couch and padding cautiously toward the door. “You can’t see inside.”

Your hand hovered over the handle, thoughts racing.

Luke didn’t answer, offering only a low chuckle from the other side of the door. Irritation bubbled in your chest as you gripped the doorknob, mentally rehearsing a speech about the importance of communication. With a sharp exhale, you flung the door open, ready to confront him—only to freeze mid-breath.

You let out a loud gasp, any annoyance momentarily forgotten.

Luke stood there, leaning casually against your doorway, dressed head to toe in a Ghostface costume. The dark fabric clung to his broad shoulders, the mask in place, giving him an eerie, almost theatrical presence. Your eyebrows shot up as your eyes swept over him, caught between surprise and intrigue.

Slowly, with deliberate precision, Luke slid the mask up, revealing his face. Your breath hitched at the sight of him. His hair was artfully messy, most likely due to the mask. His pupils were wide and dark, the dim light catching the sharp gleam of his lip ring as it contrasted against the soft pink of his slightly parted lips.

A lazy, knowing smile spread across his face, one corner of his mouth quirking up just enough to send a shiver down your spine. You couldn’t help the way your lips parted in response, your gaze lingering on him longer than you intended.

“Happy Halloween,” he drawled, hanging up the phone his voice low and smooth, as if he had no idea—or perhaps full knowledge—of the effect he was having on you.

“Happy Halloween?” You echoed, anger surging through you as you stepped aside enough to let Luke inside. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Luke didn’t waste any time, grabbing your face in his gloved hands and pressing his lips against yours in a bruising kiss. Even though you were mad, more than mad, the feeling of his lips against yours was enough to send a shiver down your spine, your hands instinctively intertwining behind his neck.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured, his voice low and earnest as he kissed along your jawline. His hands moved to your waist, effortlessly lifting you onto the breakfast island near the door. His lips trailed down the sensitive column of your neck, licking, nipping, and leaving you gasping for air. "Let me make it up to you."

Your eyes fluttered shut as heat pooled in your stomach, but you fought the pull. "No," you sighed, trying to steady your voice. Luke pulled back just enough to fix you with an exaggerated pout.

"I'm mad," you added, your tone unconvincing even to yourself.

Luke rolled his eyes, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips as his hands settled on your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze. "Sure you are," he murmured, his voice laced with amusement. Slowly, his hand slid beneath the hem of your shirt.

The rough texture of his gloved fingers against you soft skin made your breath hitch, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine despite your resolve to stay annoyed.

“I’m serious,” You insisted, your frown deepening. You hated how easily your body betrayed you, responding to Luke’s touch despite the simmering anger still coursing through you.

“So am I,” Luke replied, flashing that infuriatingly charming lopsided grin—the one that made your stomach flip no matter how mad you wanted to be. “And I really want to make it up to you.”

You let out an exasperated groan, your hand hesitating before tracing the line of his stubbled jaw. The contrast of roughness against your fingertips sent a shiver down your spine. “I want to stay mad at you,” You murmured, though your voice softened, betraying your resolve.

“Then stay mad,” Luke teased, his voice dropping lower as he leaned in to nip at your earlobe. His breath was warm against your skin, making your heart race. “It’ll make it more fun. Please, baby, I missed you.”

Your resolve crumbled further at the sincerity in his tone, your anger quickly being replaced by something softer. “I can’t be mad when you look at me like that,” you grumbled, your eyes fluttering closed as the heat of his lips against your neck made your breath hitch.

You felt him grin against your skin. "Good thing I brought a mask, then," he whispered huskily. With a teasing laugh, he pulled back just enough to capture your lips in a searing kiss. It was harsh, needy, his teeth grazing your lower lip as his hands roamed up your thighs, igniting a trail of fire with every touch.

Abruptly, Luke pulled away, leaving you breathless. Sliding the Ghostface mask back over his face, he tilted his head, the eerie blankness of the mask only adding to the tension.

Your breathing quickened as you stared at him, the stark white mask concealing his face but doing nothing to hide the magnetic pull between them. The faintest shiver of excitement coursed through you at the sight, anticipation thrumming in your veins.

Without a word, Luke swept you off the counter, eliciting a soft yelp of surprise. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms clinging to his shoulders as he carried you to the bedroom.

Luke dropped you onto the bed with little ceremony, his posture dominating as he loomed over you. Tilting his head again, he studied you intently, his breathing heavy. You could feel the tension in the air, thick and charged.

"Strip," he commanded, his voice muffled but firm behind the mask. Your eyes widened in surprise as he pulled a small compact knife from his pocket. He brought the tip of the blade to your jawline, dragging it lightly along her skin without breaking it.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, his tone softer now, almost breathless.

You swallowed thickly, your heart pounding in your chest. You knew Luke would never hurt you—he would rather die than see you in harm's way—but the adrenaline coursing through your veins only heightened your excitement. Slowly, you nodded.

Your hands moved on instinct, crossing your arms to grip the hem of your shirt. With one swift movement, you pulled it over your head, tossing it aside. You could feel Luke's gaze on you even through the mask, his presence heavy and electrifying.

Reaching behind you, you unclasped your bra, letting it slip down your arms and onto the bed. The cool air brushed your bare skin, making you shiver as you waited, your breath hitching in anticipation of what he’d do next.

Slowly, Luke dragged the tip of the knife along your skin, never pressing hard enough to break it. The cool, faintly ticklish sensation sent a cascade of goosebumps down your arms. When the blade traced lazy circles around your nipple, your breath hitched, your body responding to his calculated movements.

"Take off your pants," he commanded, his voice low and steady behind the mask.

"Leave the panties on."

You nodded, fingers fumbling slightly as you shimmied out of your pajama pants. The intensity of his gaze—or what you imagined was his gaze behind the mask—kept you on edge, anticipation crackling in the air between the two of you.

Without saying a word, Luke pushed you back onto the mattress, his hands firm yet careful. Then, with deliberate slowness, he turned and began rummaging through your bedside drawer.

Your stomach fluttered as you realized exactly what he was looking for. Your throat went dry as he pulled out your vibrator—a bright pink wand you’d grown far too accustomed to during Luke's recent absence.

Your cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and excitement, pulse quickening as his grip tightened around the toy. "Looks like you've been keeping busy," he murmured, his tone tinged with amusement as he tilted his head. The mask obscured his face, but you could imagine the smug grin beneath it.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. "Someone had to pick up the slack."

Luke chuckled darkly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

"Oh, I plan to make up for it. But first..." Luke clicked the vibrator on, the low hum slicing through the quiet tension of the room as he stepped closer. "Let's see how well you've been taking care of yourself."

Instead of removing your underwear, he pressed the vibrator directly against your clothed clit. The sensation was immediate, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.

You arched your back, a gasp tumbling from your lips as your thighs trembled involuntarily.

Even with the thin barrier of your panties, the vibrations were overwhelming. Luke stood silently, watching your every reaction, the anonymity of the mask amplifying the heat between you two .

Your breath hitched as you glanced at him, the stark white of the mask hiding his expression, but you didn't miss the way his free hand slid down to rub against the growing strain in his pants. The sight sent another wave of desire crashing through you.

"I'm so sorry, baby," Luke murmured, his voice dripping with guilt and heat as he pressed the vibrator more firmly against you.

He leaned over you, bracing himself with one hand on the headboard while the other held the toy steady against your soaked panties.

"Sorry I left you all alone to take care of yourself. Bet you're so needy for my cock, aren't you?"

You let out a strangled moan, your hips bucking instinctively against the relentless vibrations.

"Yes," You whimpered, your voice trembling. Your head tilted back as waves of pleasure coursed through you, thighs shaking uncontrollably. You gripped the bed covers like a lifeline, your fingernails digging into the fabric as your body tensed.

The wetness soaking through your underwear made it impossible for you to ignore how close you were. Your clit throbbed, oversensitized but still chasing the high that was just out of reach. The familiar burn of your orgasm built steadily in your core, your breaths coming in sharp gasps.

Luke watched you intently, his masked head tilted in mock curiosity. The tension in his body was palpable, his free hand twitching as though resisting the urge to touch you further.

You couldn't take it anymore. Your hand shot up to remove the mask, desperate to see the expression on his face, to connect with him beyond the teasing. But Luke caught your wrist with lightning speed, his gloved fingers wrapping tightly around your arm.

"Ah, ah," he tutted, a playful edge to his voice. "You hate me, remember? Let me make it up to you without ruining the fun. No need to see my infuriating face."

Infuriatingly beautiful, you thought to yourself, biting back the words. Your breath hitched as the vibrations pushed you closer to the brink. "Please, Luke," you pleaded, your voice cracking with desperation. "I want to come."

Even though you couldn’t see it, you knew that Luke was smirking under his mask, staring at your squirming body with satisfaction. “Don’t worry, you will,” Luke chuckled. “But let me enjoy my apology, too.”

Luke's gloved hand slid down to your chest, gripping your soft flesh with a possessive hunger. His fingers kneaded your breast before pinching your hardened nipple between his thumb and forefinger, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your already oversensitized body. The sensations were overwhelming, and you let out a breathless gasp, your chest heaving as you struggled to hold yourself together.

"I'm so sorry," Luke murmured again, his voice a low rasp that seemed to reverberate through you. The apology was a trigger, pushing you completely over the edge. Your body tensed, and you came with a sharp, breathless cry, your eyes squeezing shut so tightly you feared you’d never open them again. Your back arched off the bed as waves of pleasure wracked your body, leaving you trembling and gasping for air.

Your hand instinctively reached up to grip Luke's forearm, desperate for something to anchor yourself with as the intensity of your orgasm left you shaking uncontrollably.

"That's it," Luke purred, his voice velvety and low, laced with satisfaction. "Good girl." But even as your body fell limp beneath him, the vibrator remained pressed against your clit, the relentless hum prolonging you overstimulation.

You whimpered, your thighs twitching as the sensitivity became almost unbearable. You squirmed beneath him, your breaths shallow and ragged. "Luke-" you gasped, pleading for mercy, but your words were swallowed by another tremor that shook you to your core.

Luke tilted his head, watching you writhe beneath him with a smug satisfaction that even the mask couldn't conceal. "Oh, no, baby," he murmured, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. "I don't think l've apologized enough yet."

"Stay still for me," he commanded, his tone soft but firm as he reached for the knife he had discarded on the nightstand. The metallic click echoed in the room as he flipped it open, the gleam of the blade catching the dim light. He dragged it lightly across your skin, pressing just enough to leave faint red marks in its wake but never breaking the surface. The deliberate slowness of his movements made your core pulse with aching anticipation.

“Luke, please,” you whimpered, your voice trembling as unshed tears blurred your vision. The tension in your stomach coiled tighter, heat spreading through your body like wildfire. “I’m so close—please—”

Just as you neared the edge, Luke lifted the vibrator from your clit, drawing a sharp, desperate cry of protest from your lips.

"I'm making this up to you, pretty girl," he said in a low, intoxicating tone, his voice laced with an almost possessive intensity. "Every second you were left alone, I'll make up for. I promise."

Your breath hitched, your chest rising and

falling as your trembling hands gripped the sheets. You nodded eagerly, your mind clouded with desire, barely able to form coherent thoughts.

Luke's gloved fingers trailed down your flushed skin, his touch featherlight yet electrifying. The cold blade followed the curve of your chest, gliding down your stomach in an excruciatingly slow path. The contrast between the cool steel and the warmth of your skin sent shivers coursing through you, leaving you utterly at his mercy.

Without warning, Luke pressed the vibrator back against your throbbing clit, pulling a sharp gasp from your lips. Your body jolted at the sudden onslaught of sensation, the relentless hum pushing you closer to the brink once again.

"You're so beautiful like this," he murmured, his masked face tilting as if studying your reaction. His words, his touch, and the intoxicating rhythm of the vibrator all worked together to unravel you completely.

"Do you think you could forgive me?" Luke mused aloud, his voice muffled but still dark and teasing through the mask. "Or was it worth the wait? God i, you're so wet, baby. I can't wait to see that pretty little pussy. Can't wait to fuck it."

You let out a soft, broken moan, biting the inside of your cheek as his filthy words sent another rush of heat straight to your core. The vibrator rested against your oversensitive clit, its hum reverberating through you, while Luke's gloved hand slowly traveled up and down your trembling thigh.

"Please, Lu," you begged, your voice cracking under the weight of your desperation. "I need more. I want more."

Luke chuckled, low and sinful, dragging the knife across your stomach with deliberate slowness. He traced lazy patterns on your skin, careful not to press too hard, his gentleness juxtaposed with the danger of the blade. The contrast made your head spin, desire clouding your every thought.

"You want more?" he echoed mockingly. "So greedy, aren't we?" His grip on your thigh tightened, and the blade shifted lower, gliding over your panties with just enough pressure to make your hips jerk.

"Say it," Luke demanded, his tone dropping, leaving no room for refusal. "Tell me you want my cock. That's what you're begging for, isn't it? Say it."

You shivered, cheeks wet with tears that streamed freely down your face as you let out a strangled cry. "Please, Luke, I want your cock. Fuck me—please—"

Luke's chuckle was dark and satisfied as he moved the knife with precision, slicing through the delicate fabric of your panties in one swift motion. The shredded material slid down your legs, leaving you bare and utterly exposed to his gaze.

For a moment, you held your breath as the vibrator's relentless hum continued to torment you, but mercifully, Luke pulled it away. Your thighs quivered as the overwhelming sensations subsided slightly, only for your need to grow even stronger under his unwavering attention.

Luke tossed the ruin fabric aside. “Such a shame,” He whispered, climbing on the bed and working open the button of his jeans. “I really liked those.” His gloved hands grabbed your trembling thighs, spreading them open enough to make space for himself.

He took his time admiring you, wet and glistening before him. Although the mask hid his face, you could still hear his heavy breathing. You didn’t doubt that he was devouring your body with his eyes.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” He whimpered, his gloved thumb brushing over your swollen clit, making your hips buck up in response. “So ready for me, aren’t you? This is what you’ve been thinking about, haven’t you? Me fucking you until you can’t even raise your head.”

“Yes,” You whispered, shaking with anticipation as your eyes flickered down to where he strained against his underwear. “Luke— I need you, please.”

He pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, his thumb still teasing your clit. You watched through half-lidded eyes as he pulled down his underwear, his erection quickly freed from its confines.

Luke's tip was flushed and slick with precum as he wrapped a gloved hand around his length, guiding it to your entrance with an infuriating slowness. "You've been such a good girl for me," he murmured, dragging himself along your slick folds and pausing to tease your swollen clit. His voice was thick with desire, each word dripping with intent.

"But do you think you can forgive me?"

You opened your mouth to reply, but before a single word escaped, Luke thrust into you with no warning. Your breath hitched as a sharp cry tore from your lips, back arching off the mattress as he stretched you in a way that felt both overwhelming and perfect. The days without him only amplified the sensation, the ache and fullness making your toes curl.

“Fuck,” Luke groaned, his voice slightly strained and breathless in your ear. He pressed deeper into you, burying himself to the hilt and stopping briefly to enjoy the feeling of it, of your walls wrapped tightly around him. “You feel so fucking good, so good f’me.”

“Only for you,” You gasped, feeling his gloved hand as it settled against your hip and gripped tightly. His other hand braced against the mattress next to your head.

“Y/N,” He rasped, still not moving. You clenched around him, whimpering in a desperate attempt to get him to move again. “I missed you so much.”

"I missed you,” You gasped, your voice a soft whimper as you writhed beneath him. The white mask loomed above you, adding a tantalizing mystery to the moment. You couldn't see his face, but you could imagine it perfectly—his blue eyes screwed shut, his teeth digging into the black lip ring he always toyed with when he was consumed by desire.

Your body tightened around him, adjusting to his size as waves of pleasure spread through you. Each second felt like an eternity, your core burning with need as your fingers clutched at his forearms for stability. "Lu," you whimpered, your voice breaking. "Please, I need you to move."

Luke's low chuckle reverberated through the room, the sound dark and teasing, making you clench around him involuntarily. He hissed sharply, the grip on your hip tightening as his gloved fingers pressed into your soft skin. "You're so needy, baby," he murmured, his tone dripping with smug amusement.

But he didn't make you wait any longer.

Slowly, he pulled his hips back, only to thrust forward again with deliberate intent. The drag of him inside you sent sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins, and your head fell back against the pillows, a moan spilling from your lips.

Luke’s hips snapped hungrily against you, setting a punishing pace that made you screw your eyes shut in pleasure. He watched you writhe beneath him, your moans filling the room and mixing in with his.

You couldn’t help the way your body responded to Luke’s grunts and gasps, and you arched against him— the friction driving you wild. You were still sensitive from your previous orgasm and overstimulation, so every thrust made you see stars.

“You feel so good around me,” He whimpered, his voice muffled by the mask, but the strain in his tone was evident. “So tight and warm.”

You whimpered, your legs tightening around Luke’s waist as he continued to fuck into you. The mask obscured your view of his face, but the way his body moved with such fervor made it clear that he was just as affected as you were.

His chest heaved with every thrust, and your arms slid to his broad shoulders in search for an anchor. “Luke—“ You gasped. “Harder, please, fuck me harder.”

Luke laughed darkly, his hands tightening on your waist enough that she thought it might leave bruises. You found that you didn’t quite mind. “So fucking greedy,” He growled. “But you’re such a good girl, and I can’t say no to you.”

Luke’s pace picked up. His thrusts grew harder and deeper, more desperate as he felt you clench around him. The sound of your bodies clashing together and moans filled the room, and you felt yourself begin to grow close again.

Your head trashed against the pillow. “I’m close,” You sobbed, the intensity making your body fizzle with energy. “Oh, God.” Your nails dug into Luke’s shoulders.

“Come for me, Y/N,” He commanded. Luke leaned his masked face down, brushing against your ear. “Show me how much you missed me.”

His words were all the permission you needed, arching your back off the bed as a second, more forceful orgasm washed over you. A broken moan escaped your lips, your heels digging into the small of Luke’s back.

“That’s it,” Luke cooed, his voice filled with raw desire and pride. “So beautiful when you come for me.”

Your walls fluttered around him and you whimpered, meeting his hips with your own as you rode out your high.

But Luke didn't relent. Instead, he pulled off his mask, revealing his flushed, sweaty face.

His lips found the sensitive skin of your neck, his movements never slowing as his hips continued to thrust into you with relentless force.

You let out a strangled yell, your body trembling from the overwhelming sensation. "Lu—" Your voice cracked as you gasped, breathless. "I can't—too much—"

But Luke didn't seem to hear you, driven by something primal, his need for you blinding.

“No,” He growled. “You can take it, baby, you’re doing so good. I’m not finished apologizing yet.” His thumb found your swollen clit again, rubbing firm, harsh circles on you.

You whimpered, shaking your head. But the newfound attention to your sensitive bud rekindled the flame low in your belly. The buildup was so much faster this time, so much more intense and tears slid down your face.

Luke's rhythm faltered, his movements growing erratic as his breathing became heavier. "God, you feel so good," he rasped, his voice rough with raw desire. "So fucking perfect."

The tidal wave building inside you finally crashed, pulling you under with an intensity that left you breathless. You screamed his name as your orgasm tore through you, a release so powerful it left you trembling uncontrollably. Warmth flooded between them, wetness pooling beneath you and soaking the mattress.

Luke froze for a moment, his eyes widening as he processed what had just happened.

"Holy shit, Y/N," he groaned, his voice thick with awe and arousal. "You squirted—"

The slickness and the rhythmic tightening of your walls around him pushed him past the edge he'd been teetering on. With a guttural growl, Luke buried his face in your neck, his body trembling as he drove into you one last time, deep and hard.

“Fuck baby,” he groaned, pressing a kiss to the soft flesh of your neck. You were breathing heavily, your mind a foggy mess as you looked into your boyfriend’s deep blue eyes.

He slid down your thighs, gently prying them open before leaning in to lick you clean. You let out a tired whimper, your body still slick and hypersensitive. The touch of Luke's tongue sent shivers through you—equal parts pleasure and overstimulation.

When he was satisfied, he rolled off you and climbed out of bed, peeling off his soaked costume while you watched in a cozy, contented silence. Once he was done, Luke settled back beside you, brushing a tender kiss against your lips, a soft contrast to the intensity that you had just shared.

When Luke pulled away and glanced at the mess on the mattress, a mischievous grin spread across his face. “So, I’m taking this as your way of saying you’ve forgiven me?” he teased, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your still-trembling thigh.

You ran your hands through his messy, sweat-dampened hair, your nails grazing his scalp. “I don’t know,” you murmured, a teasing smile curving your lips. “Throw in a Plan B, and we’ll call it even.”

Luke chuckled, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips before pulling back just enough to smirk. “Deal.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

send in your requests pls!!! hope you guys enjoyed 🤞

[wondrluv]

୨୧ slip 'n slide ; tz11

➪ summary: pro tip: if you're going to play slip 'n slide hockey, make sure not to play it with professional hockey players

➪ warnings: fractured shoulder, hospitals

➪ word count: 0.6k

➪ emma's notes: it has been so long since i posted writing on here so i'm super excited to be back doing it. i remember exactly what sparked the idea for this fic and i couldn't be happier with how it turned out! um let me know if you like the new-ish formatting (the tinier font) or if you would prefer it to be bigger for the writing. also, i am working on that quinn fic and let me know if there are any of your favorites of mine you want me to reupload, they are all on my masterlist if you want to browse.

© wondrluv ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen, her sitting in a hospital room with her arm sporting a sling. Sure, maybe the idea was a little stupid, and playing with professional hockey players also didn’t help. But, what was she supposed to do when she was scrolling on Instagram and saw a video with ‘slip-and-slide hockey’? Not tell her brothers and their friends about it? Not a chance. 

After seeing the video, she immediately brought it up to her brothers who agreed and started calling some of their friends to come to the lake house. She had called Trevor, much to Jack’s annoyance at the reminder of their relationship and Quinn’s distaste for him, and he said he would be there as soon as he could. When all the boys arrived, it was officially ‘mission slip-and-slide hockey’ time.

In hindsight, maybe she should’ve worn pads or just not played at all knowing how rough her brothers get with not only her but with their friends as well. Jack was being Jack, of course. He had gone to go around Trevor when he slipped and knocked into his sister, who then fell and weirdly landed on her shoulder. She didn’t scream, growing up with three rowdy brothers gave her more pride than she probably would’ve liked sometimes. 

She just laid there, staring at the sky with her right arm across her chest and her left one lying by her side. It took everyone a little bit to realize, and it was only when they saw Quinn kneeling next to her that they did. 

Quinn looked down at her, placing a hand on her shoulder, “You okay?”

She nodded, looking a little dazed as her eyes glassed over in pain, “Mhm.”

“Y/n/n come on, move your arm for me.”

She lifted her left arm and then dropped it, “See, I’m fine.”

He gave her a look, “Your other arm.”

And she was prepared to do it, except when she tried, she couldn’t and teared up more. Quinn sighed before waving Trevor over, “Come on, let’s go to the hospital.”

“I’m fine.”

Trevor’s head came into her sight, his hair flopping and framing his face, “Let’s go, princess.”

She smiled up at him, “You're pretty.”

He laughed before helping her stand up, having her lean on him for support. Jack came up and spewed apologies from his mouth as they walked to the car, “It’s okay, Jack. I’m fine.”

He shook his head and sat on one side while Trevor sat on the other and Luke got into the passenger seat as Quinn drove them to the hospital. And that’s how they ended up here, y/n sitting on a hospital bed with her arm in a sling due to her fractured shoulder. Trevor sat on the bed next to her while Quinn called their mom and Luke and Jack sat on the chairs in front of them. 

She leaned her head against her boyfriend’s shoulder, “Ugh how am I supposed to work now?”

“You don’t have to work, y/n/n. You’re boyfriends rich.”

Y/n sent her younger brother a glare before closing her eyes again, “Do you think they could give me drugs for my head?”

Jack shook his head at her choice of words before standing up, “I’ll go find a doctor. Maybe you got a concussion too, though they didn’t say anything.”

He kissed her head before leaving to find a doctor, or a nurse at the very least. Luke followed after him, protesting being stuck in a room with the two of them. Trevor pushed a piece of her hair out of her face before kissing her temple, “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? Besides the headache now?”

She nodded a little, wrapping her left arm around his right one, “Yeah.”

He gave her a small smile, “You know Luke wasn’t totally wrong. You don’t have to work.”

She went to hit him but he laughed and held up a hand, “I know, I know. You love your job, I wouldn’t take that away from you, lovely.”

“Good.”

The two sat in silence for a little while and then she spoke once more, “Cuddles when we get back?”

“Of course, my baby fractured her shoulder. Got to give her all the princess treatment in the world.”

“Dork.”

TZ11 MASTERLIST ; NHL MASTERLIST

TAGLIST ; NAVIGATION

[inquisimer]

something loosely inspired by the Rook Codex Prompts by @shivunin - it was an idea I had, but the format didn't come together for me until I saw this list. It also fills multiple possible prompts, but I didn't write it with any specific one in mind? So I'm just posting it like this asldgjlkdfh.

Arlow de Riva & Viago | 449 words | @dadrunkwriting - da4 spoilers, a letter written before Tearstone Island, for Neve to deliver in the event of Arlow's death

-

A letter written in Antivan, crumpled and smoothed out many times over. It is pinned to the library table by a dagger embossed with the sigil of House de Riva.

Viago, If you knew I was writing this, you’d slap me upside the head. But I’m writing it anyway, because you should hear it from me. It isn’t your fault. Whatever happened, if you’re reading this, it is not your fault I’m gone. And it’s not Lucanis’ either, so don’t blame him. I made my own choices. I hope they were the right ones, and that I’m not gone before the job was done. A Crow always finishes their contracts, right? I hope I didn’t let you down, in the end. (Here’s a break for you to yell at my ghost. Come back when you’ve calmed down.) You saved my life, you know? You didn’t have to. I know you would have made Talon, regardless. But you saved me—changed me, so much I don’t even know who I would have been otherwise. And I’m glad for that. I wouldn’t have wanted to be anyone other than who you made me. Yes, I mean that. Yes, I’m sure. Don’t argue with me when I’m not there to argue back. Just—believe me, for once. It doesn’t matter how it ended. We had a good run. A really good run. And despite it all, I wouldn’t have changed a thing, except maybe that I’d like to be hearing your lecture in real time right now. Wherever I am, I’m missing you. But don’t spend too much time missing me. The others need you—if the job isn’t done, help them. For my sake—a contract signed with my last breath. You help them save the world, and then you take Teia back to Treviso and you live. Have a really good cup of coffee; watch the sun rise over the canals. Keep going, because even when the world fell apart in my hands, you were the one thing that stayed the same. If there was anything I could leave this world knowing, it’s that that hasn’t changed. So. Keep living. For me? We’re not big on words, and I’ve already used up most of mine. But the seal on this letter wasn’t poisoned—as you undoubtedly tested—and that should tell you all you need to know. I love you, Viago. I’m sorry that I wasn’t good enough to make it back and tell you in person. But I always have. Thank you. For everything. -Arlow de Riva

The loopy signature is blotted with tears. Some smear the ink; others appear to have been left after the letter was opened.

[twistedpink]

Who’s your valentine? @/cafekitsune banner

And the spinner says….

Riddle + happy accidents + opposites attract

There are people that prefer the night life, and there’s morning people. Happy people, sad people, blue people, red people, etc,, Most people would prefer keeping a healthy distance from the olive queendom hq parking lot. In this, you are most people.

“My car! VANDALS!”

Your very own manager stands tensely in the underground lot, grumbling next to a knifed up van- It’s practical, -like something your dad would drool over- and painfully too old for him. (an easy feat, considering he’s the youngest in the office)

You consider turning the other way and walking home.

You can’t. And not because your sense of morality finally got updated-

But if you squint and tilt your head just right, for a second, he looks kinda.. Cute? Lost-cute, tutor/airhaid-cute, pathetic-cute, you get the idea. With Riddle, it hits you even deeper because this vibe is rare.

It might just be the lowlights, or the lack of rbf for once, or the “single on Valentine’s Day” hallmark phenomena, but he’s totally coffeeshop meet-cute material!

He’s staring up at the ceiling like it owes him money when you jog up, and his pupils dilate. hard. You didn’t know he had any emotion besides “angry” and “veiled angry”, but you learn something new everyday!

You don’t need to ask to know his address- it’s been the reluctant cool down spot of many post office party benders, but he appreciates the sentiment when you prompt him for it anyways.

All the hr briefings and team meetings basically leak out of your head the second your brain starts humming with the energy of mm, boy smell,, With the dull ache behind your eyes, and the caffeine shakes hitting you decide that you’ll atleast try to violate policy tonight- It’s been way too long since you’ve had a proper date (Not at the olive queendom or Minigolf, but something romantic!), and with Riddle it’s easy to guess that once you kiss the hell out of this boy, that he’ll insist on it. (Yknow, if you don’t crash your car on the way,,)

“I couldn’t ask to inconvenience one of my employees like this…”

“Good thing you’re not asking! It’d just be rude to let you pay for a two hour flyber, let me do this for you.”

You open up the passenger side of your pickup just to flick the squished fry off his seat, and you delight with how quickly his face turns from nervous first date to saw trap reaction. This is gonna be a long drive, and for once, you’re excited to hang out with a colleague!

“So, anyone special you’ll be seeing tonight?”

“Perish the thought! My work is far more important than some rendezvous,”

.

With all this driving and bickering, it makes you wonder just how he values rules. You hope he lies about his least favourite ones- it’s not like anyone would catch him! Even with your tongue in his moth, he still hasn’t stopped mumbling about queen of hearts-section 5 rule 295.

Allegedly, that rule dictates that the queen must kiss someone before the clock strikes twelve on Valentine’s Day! Being the his most benevolent employee, the car is parked on some backroad (your ears are still ringing from the lecture), some lover’s lane ass music is playing, and you’ve definitely kissed enough to fulfill the conditions.

With your hands cupping his face, and his leg across yours in the back seat, the two of you just can’t stop meeting in the middle,,

“Hah! Wouldn’t this count as ‘indecent exposure’? I’d hate for us to get arrested, queenie.”

“Not in this area. I’d say we’re far enough away from the typical public sectors to be within the law, and- you were kidding? Nevermind! We must follow her majesty’s word to the letter! I’m supposed to wish you a ‘happy Valentine’s Day’ now.”

“Yeah, yeah, c’mere!!”

Hope you guys like the new format better! It’s all thanks to my beta reader @/Echosofmortality <3

[chishiyaisasnack]

Shower time

Here’s a fic that I’ve been working on for a good while now and I’m finally content with posting it. It’s sfw even though it’s a shower scene. Mostly fluff (?) and a tiiiiiny but of angst.

Disclaimer! This story is based in the Borderlands and it mentions blood, wounds and trauma from it. It’s not about how they got injured, but more so very mildly describing that they are injured. I consider it sfw but it does contain nudity since they’re taking a shower, but I’m not describing bodyparts or anything. Also, small references to sex just for humor, but there is no smut whatsoever.

Oh, and the reader doesn’t know that Chishiya is a doctor.

I’ve written and am posting on mobile so I’m sorry for any formatting issues.

”I’m going to take a shower.”

With strong steps - actually more like a wobble - you walked into your room at The Beach, Chishiya following close behind you, watching your every movement just in case you would trip over your own feet, like you already had done about 30 times since you left the game area. It had been a rough one and it had left you wounded, exhausted and a bit lethargic. Not to mention the strain it had taken on your mental state, like the games always did, but you had turned off your feelings for now and had only one goal in mind: a long, warm shower to wash off all the remnants of the game.

”No you aren’t, it can wait until tomorrow.” Chishiya sounded like he always did, bored and condescending, but you knew that there was some worry in there somewhere. Otherwise he wouldn’t have bothered to follow you all the way back to your room, offering to catch you when you’d eventually fall.

”I feel gross. I’m covered in … stuff.” Blood. You were covered in blood. You raised your arms to make your point clearer, in case he missed what an absolute mess you were right now.

”Fine. Come on then.” Chishiya sighed, walked around you, and went towards the bathroom while you stood confused, watching him open the door and look back at you before stepping inside.

”Wait, what?” you asked, eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. Why was he joining you?

With slow steps you followed him, wondering if he got the wrong idea. He was gorgeous, but sex was the last thing on your mind, especially shower sex. Didn’t he say that you were in no condition to even take a shower to begin with? You stopped in the doorway and waited for a response.

”You most likely have a concussion, you’re wounded and you’re exhausted. You’re going to collapse by yourself.” He turned on the shower and let the stream of water fall, waiting for it to turn hot.

”Okay, okay, doctor.” The smirk you got back confused you even more. Did he have a thing for being called ’doctor’? It wouldn’t suprise you, he was a mystery. But even him would surely have preferrences. Wait, why were you thinking about sex again?

You shook your head as you walked inside the bathroom, limping past Chishiya as he was making his way out again. Or so you thought. In the corner of your eye you saw him stretch, but it wasn’t until you turned around that you saw what he really was doing.

”Uhh, why are you taking your clothes off?” Your eyes widened as his hoodie hit the floor. He had no shame, appearantly getting naked with you without warning was completely normal in his world.

”I’m getting ready to help you when you realise that I was right. Don’t worry, I won’t join you until you ask me to. Which will be soon, so I’m preparing for that.”

You didn’t know if you should feel thankful or offended by what he said.

Chishiya however, smirked again, cocking an eyebrow at your dumbfounded look. He was enjoying this. While still looking at you he started to pull down his shorts. Your eyes were fixed on the pile of clothes he had created on the floor, which thankfully wasn’t added with more pieces since he decided to keep at least his boxers on. The daring look he had on his face when you turned your eyes back up was annoying. Did he like that you were looking at him? Not that you were looking at him like that anyway. You just wanted to take a shower. Or so you told yourself.

With his shirt and pants off he sat down on the toilet seat, turning around so that he had his back against you and the glass wall of the shower.

”Go ahead” he said, a hint of amusement hiding in his voice. ”I won’t look.”

”You better not” you huffed back at him, watching him carefully while you started to remove your own clothes, ripped apart and stained with blood. Instead of putting them in a pile you threw them straight into the trashcan. Once removed, you looked into the mirror over the sink and you almost gasped at how wounded you actually were. Cuts and bruises covered your arms, legs and back. Patches of your skin were stained red, even your face still had traces of blood left on it. You looked terrible.

Sighing, you stopped studiyng yourself and looked over your shoulder. Chishiya was still sitting with his back against you, shoulders rising and falling slow with every breath, the muscles of his back tensing when he moved. He looked soft. You wondered what he would look like wet.

No! This was not the right time to daydream about Chishiya and his pretty back, his blonde hair that fell in waves over his shoulders, those shoulders that probably would feel great to hold on to while your lips were… Oh, for fucks sake, just get in the shower y/n.

After disrupting yourself from your thoughts you made your way into the shower, closing your eyes as the water started cascading down your body. The glass wall seperating the shower and the rest of the room was conveniently half covered with frosted glass so that it covered most of your body, from your shoulders down to your knees, making you a bit less embarrassed over being naked in the same room as him. Being naked in front of someone when it wasn’t sexual wasn’t your idea of calming, and even though he had no shame, you still had. This was too intimate, too casual. But if it was what it took to take a shower then you’d do it. Even though you didn’t like to admit it you did trust Chishiya to treat you with decency and respect. He might be considered one of the people you shouldn’t trust in the borderlands, a bad person perhaps, but not bad enough to overstep someones boundaries like this.

”Let me know when you need me.” Chishiyas voice rang somewhere in the distance. Not even a ’if you need me’. He was too confident and it just made you even more stubborn. You were definitely able to take a shower by yourself, you were damned to not let him win this one, you told yourself while reaching for the soap. With unsteady hands (no, they absolutely weren’t unsteady because you were tired) you started to scrub the dirt off yourself, one part at a time. You hissed whenever you discovered a new wound you weren’t aware of and eventually the pain from it made you a bit dizzy. No, you could do this.

You clenched your jaw as you continued, slowly moving from head to toe, covering yourself with suds. Finally, everything you could see and feel was gone, so you let the stream of water fall over you once again, closing your eyes, enjoying the warmth that it gave. You felt your muscles relax, your breathing slowing down, your eyelids getting heavier…

”Chishiya…” you mumbled weakly, mad that he was right, again.

”I’m here.” A voice right behind you made you jump. You turned around and swung your fist towards him, ready to punch him out of pure panic, but he caught it before it landed on him. The borderlands had really done a number on you, you were constantly prepared for survival and appearantly even Chishiya was a victim of your anxiety. ”Calm down, it’s just me.”

”How long have you been standing there?!” You wobbled to the side as you tried to fight your bodys urge to fall onto the ground from the sudden movements. Chishiya steadied you by holding your upper arms, and helped you turn back around so that your back was facing him again.

”You moved slower and slower so I was ready when you called for me. I haven’t been standing here ogling.”

”So you have been watching me?” You didn’t even think about the fact that you probably flashed him completely just now. Well, if he saw something he didn’t care about it, which was comforting in this situation.

”Of course. I couldn’t see anything other than your head anyway. It wasn’t quite the show you think it was.” Chishiyas voice was dripping with amusement.

Once again, you didn’t know if you should be thankful or offended.

”Give me the schampoo bottle.” Chishiya asked, or rather commanded, reaching his arm out next to you so you could hand him the bottle. Once he got it you could hear him shake it before opening it and pouring out some of the liquid in his hand, followed by a low thump as he put it on the floor behind you.

Slender fingers moved over your hair, softly massaging it with his fingertips, giving you full body shivers from the way his fingers drew circles between the strands. It felt nice. Safe. You couldn’t help but to close your eyes again and just relish in the warmth radiating from his hands. He was so careful with how he touched you, slow and gentle while he worked his way through all of your hair.

A part of you wished that he would step closer so that you could feel the warmth from his body wrap around you, so that you could lean back and relax in his arms, just enjoying how your body would feel so at ease while being comforted, but you had no idea how to ask him for that without it sounding sexual.

”Shower head, please.”

You did as he asked and handed him the shower head, turning up the water pressure while doing so to make it easier for him to rinse.

”Close your eyes and bend your head backwards. Tell me if you feel dizzy.” Chishiya didn’t sound so stern this time. His words were soft and comforting, asking you to trust him. So you did.

He rinsed your hair in silence. One hand holding the shower head while the other one kept massaging your scalp, making sure to rinse out the schampoo properly. Even though you desperately tried to relax and just enjoy the feeling of being taken care of, you couldn’t stop your emotions from seeping back into your mind. Pictures of the game were flashing before your eyes. People screaming. Fighting. Lasers going off.

”Chishiya…” you whispered, no longer able to stop thinking about what had happend earlier.

”Mhmm..?”

”There was a child there tonight.”

He didn’t answer but you could feel the movements in his hands stiffen as he continued to rinse your scalp free from schampoo.

”I didn’t know that there were children here” you continued, trying to get the thoughts out of your head so you wouldn’t be tormented by them during the night. ”I thought maybe we were sent here to repent or something like that, that we were getting what we deserve. But why would a child deserve this? Even if we are all randomly sent here, without any reason behind why it’s us in particular, why would they choose a child?”

”…I don’t know.” He sounded emtpy when he answered, not that you were expecting his words to be comforting. They rarely were. There was a long pause before he spoke again. ”Did the child make it?”

”Yeah…” A shiver ran trough your body when Chishiya stopped rinsing your hair, already missing the heat from the water. Another thump came from the floor when he put the shower head down. ”Some of us worked together and protected him as much as we could.”

”Do you have conditioner?” he interrupted, sticking his hand out next to you so that you could hand it to him. You placed the bottle in his hand and watched him retrieve it. A click of the bottle cap was followed by another thump when he put it down on the ground. You wondered how many times he must’ve stared at your ass by now.

”Anyway,” you continued, shaking the image of him smirking at your butt away. ”That’s why I look like this. I took the hits for him.”

”That sounds like you.”

You hummed at his words. It was reassuring that you were considered to be a nice person, even in this hellscape.

Gentle fingers threaded through your hair again and you leaned into the touch. It went by faster this time since he didn’t need to scrub, although you wished he would keep doing this for hours. Every time he let go of you - this time to pick up the shower head again - the ache in your body took over, making you tremble ever so slightly even though the steam from the hot water was surrounding you. You were relieved when you felt the water against your back, contently closing your eyes and bending your head back into Chishiyas palm.

”I envy you sometimes.” Chishiya mumbled, so quiet that the sound of the water almost drowned it out.

”You do?”

”I wouldn’t have helped someone else if it meant that I would have to work for it, let alone get hurt from it.” Chishiya paused briefly, like he was choosing his words carefully. ”Especially not a stranger. You didn’t think twice about doing so.”

”I don’t believe that.” You cut him off before he got the chance to put himself down even more. ”You’re better than you think, Chishiya. Just look at what you’re doing for me right now.”

”I’m washing your hair, I’m not saving you from dying.” You could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

”You don’t have to save me from death to help me. This is helping me. Besides, from the sound of your attempts to stop me from showering, I could die in here if you didn’t help me.”

”Maybe I just wanted to see you naked” Chishiya joked with such a monotone voice that anyone else would think he was serious, but you knew better. Well, if he was serious he had gotten his wish - paired with a fist coming at his face.

”Right” you snorted, too tired to laugh. A blush still crept over your cheeks, imagining his eyes on you in that way. ”Keep telling yourself that if that makes you feel better.”

”There” Chishiya ignored your answer and handed you the shower head. Cold air rushed to your skin as the water left it, leaving you almost begging for him to continue. Would it be so bad if you did?

”You can turn off the water now. I’ll get you some towels. Stay there.”

With a pout you put the shower head back into it’s place and turned off the water. Behind you, you could hear how Chishiya was gathering towels from a drawer, his footsteps making their way back over the tiled floor that would be cold and uninviting for your own feet in a second.

”Lift your arms a little.” You did as he asked and lift your arms halfway up, stopping waist high, only to see Chishiyas arms poking out from under them, holding up a towel that you thankfully grabbed a hold on and quickly wrapped around yourself to try to regain some of the warmth that the shower had given you.

”You’re safe to turn around now.”

”Thank you” you quitly replied as you gently spun around, just to be met by a still undressed Chishiya with his own towel hanging around his neck and a soft expression on his face. If you didn’t know better you would think that he was worried about you.

A smaller towel was in one of his hands - which soon landed on your head, covering your face at the same time. Your sour expression that was revealed as you peeled it off made him grin.

”Do you want help to dry it?” He asked, eyes shiny from amusement, and watched as you stubbornly started to squeeze the ends of your hair, too tired to lift your arms up and dry it completely.

”No, I’ll just put the towel over the pillow when I sleep. It’s fine” you replied, following his example and put your own towel over your shoulders. The chill in the air was starting to really get to you, and you decided that you couldn’t get to the bed fast enough. Just thinking about laying down, surrounded by warm covers, maybe even a pair of socks on your feet at first, burying your head on the pillow…

”The wounds on your back looked fine but I still need to cover some of them with bandaids. I need to examine your front too. Let me know when you’ve covered up so that I can check your arms, legs and stomach.”

Ugh, why did he have to interupt your dream about your bed with another naked request? You just wanted to sleep.

”I’m sure I’ll be fine Chishiya” you groaned back at him, slowly (and unsteadily) making your way past him and towards the bed. You could see the light at the end of the tunnel, just a few more steps and you’d reach the doorhandle, that doorhandle that would open the gate and lead you straight towards the nice, warm, fluffy….

You groaned even louder when you felt a hand grip your arm, stopping your weak attempt to get out of the bathroom and keeping you still while Chishiya made his way around you so that he was facing you again. That calm face was back and you didn’t like it.

”Please, Chishiya, just let me sleep” you pleaded but to no avail.

”Come here.” You had no choice but to move after him, not being strong enough to even attempt to break loose from his grip on your arm, that was keeping you somewhat steady as you plopped one foot in front of the other until you reached the end of the bathroom. Then - lo and behold - Chishiya opened the door and led you out into the hotel room, making your way straight towards the bed. Right as he reached the foot of the bed he stopped and slowly turned the two of you around in a circle so that your back was now facing the bed, and then pushed you back so that you fell down on the soft duvet cover with a yelp. It felt like heaven to finally lay down, like a cloud was enveloping you and taking you with it to the land of dreams.

”Where are your underwear?” Chishiya once again interrupted your inner monolouge.

”Why? Wanna see them so badly even though you’ve already seen me naked?” You rolled your eyes and leaned your head to the side so that you could watch him dig around in a dresser until he grabbed the first, best pair of panties he could find and threw them at you.

”Put them on please, unless you want me to examine you naked. I’m fine with either way.”

You just huffed at him, secretly liking the playful look he was giving you. When he turned his back to you, you managed to shuffle around and get your panties on, just to let your legs fall back down onto the bed with a loud thump. God, you were exhausted.

”I’m done, doctor.” Once again, he reacted with a grin and you were now positive that he had some wierd doctor patient kink and that you were so going to make him confess that. A mission for another day.

Chishiya sat down next to your legs and reached over them to pick up a first aid kit you didn’t even know was laying next to you. Was he a wizard too?

You kept still, listening to the opening of packets, a liquid poured onto what you imagined was a cotton ball, and then your own hiss as he touched the first wound on your leg. It wasn’t the liquid that hurt, it was just the tender touch from the gauze he dabbed against your skin that hurt enough to make you wince. He must have started on a bad one.

”Try to keep still” he murmured gently, sounding like he was completely occupied with his task of tormenting you just a bit more before letting you sleep.

You stayed as still as you could, trying to concentrate on his hands and fingers working their way over your legs, dabbing it with the liquid, letting it dry, then putting a compress and some adhesive tape over it like a home made band aid. His touch was so gentle that it was barely there.

Your eyelids turned heavier with every touch of his fingertips and even though your wounds were stinging, his warm skin eased the pain afterwards and comforted you without knowing so. Before falling asleep you murmured a ”thank you.”

The last thing you remembered was the feeling of being enveloped in something warm, probably the cover that wasn’t underneath you and a soft whisper.

”You’re welcome.”

[darkhymns-fic]

No Such Thing as Refusal

Deals with the Radio Demon aren't made to be broken. But Husk has never been an honorable man.

So, when such a soul refuses him, Alastor sends out one of his most loyal to retrieve his property. And, oh, how she loved playing fetch.

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Characters/Pairing: Alastor/Husk, Husk/Niffty, Alastor/Niffty Rating: M Word Count: 4800 Mirror: AO3 Notes: A small fic about the bloody formation of the radiotrio and their toxic obsession with each other. I love they.

-

The harsh light from the newly open doorway fell over Husk’s back as he sat outside the alleyway, like the sun’s rays at dawn. Never mind that it had been years—decades—that he’d felt the warmth of the sun on him, and that he could even truly remember what it looked like. The light over him now was only fluorescent. He could hear the constant buzzing from harsh electricity.

“Oh, hi! Found you!” 

Accompanied by the shrill greeting was a harsh clang and thump, one that resounded by his side. A quick look showed him a trash bag, multiple rips along its surface and leaking out disgusting fluids.

“Sir was looking for you everywhere!”

Husk chose not to say anything, not until he took another swig from the bottle he held. Barely anything in it was left. The drops scalded his tongue. It was like sipping up kerosene that still held a bit of flame in its makeup. He wished there was more of it.

“He knows where to find me,” he said. He made the mistake of looking back, the harsh lighting making him wince. A wing held up before him like a ratty, feathery shield. “Can ya close that, Niff? I’m not in the mood. Beat it.”

It did so with a deep boom that made his bones shake, except Niffty didn’t go back in. She skittered near him, eye assessing the crate he sat on, and the shoddy bottle he held. “Oooo, you’re really grumpy today!”

Sometimes, Niffty liked to tease him just as Alastor did, which was very much not appreciated. Husk bared his teeth slightly, claws raking the glass. Any tighter, and a crack or two would form, spiderwebbing the surface. “Don’t test me.”

“I’m not! That’s Sir’s job!” Niffty had her hands behind her back, tilting her head to the side as she continued to stare at him harder and harder. 

He didn’t know what her game was right now, and he didn’t care for how she was doing it. Her insistence on being near him was enough to tense his shoulders. The alleyway behind the building was all sorts of shadowy and smudgy darkness, one that he got used to with his eyes that could pierce right through it. 

But Niffty standing near him with an eye as bright as a garish drop of blood was unsettling. Her hands were still behind her back. It would almost be comically cliché that she was holding a knife just out of sight.

And then he saw the wicked gleam, reflected from a distant lamp post. Yes, Niffty was absolutely holding a knife behind her back.

So, it came down to this again.

Husk took one more, extremely empty sip before lowering the bottle. He slouched, arms leaning across his thighs. He stared right back.

“Tell him I don’t feel like seeing his shit-eating grin today.”

Niffty giggled lightly. Her feet bounced with the motion, as if her own voice was enough to propel her small frame. “He said you would say that!”

“Then it sounds like the fucker needs to hear it again.” Husk rubbed at his temple with his right hand, never taking his eyes off that knife. “You really going to make me go through with this? It’s goddamn late.”

“Hm, well I’m just doing my part of the deal. And Alastor asked me soooo nicely!” Another giggle, one that almost sounded sincere if he could ignore the way her breath hitched so tightly. 

This wasn’t the first time Niffty had used her more violent tendencies on Alastor’s command to reign in a disobedient pawn. It also didn’t matter that she used it on Husk. Even if she held some sort of affection for him, it paled in comparison to what she held for her boss.

She’d jump into a pit of vipers on his command, or tear off her own arm with just her teeth. And if he told her to play fetch and get Husk back to his doorstep, she’d do it gladly.

Whether alive or dead, whole or in three different bags. It didn’t matter.

Husk sighed. He gripped the neck of the bottle, slamming the end against the floor. Cards and dice stayed in his pockets—he’d rather not use them on her. Besides, Niffty always appreciated sharp things over explosives.

The mad little maid practically squealed as she watched Husk get to his feet, brandishing her knife which still sported rust and blood stains. A quick glance made him confirm that this knife wasn’t anything special. It looked like a regular kitchen knife, one that Niffty probably used to smash pests along with meal preparation.

The stains along its surface were so thick and meshed together, he could barely tell what was blood or food—if there was any difference at all.

“Niff,” Husk asked quietly, holding up the bottle near his chest. His wings slightly spread. Flight was always an option, and he was weighing that very heavily right now. “Where’d you get that anyway?”

Niffty blinked with the curiosity of a confused animal. She gazed down at the knife that was clutched in both of her hands, like it had just appeared within her grasp. She looked at it so closely, she was in danger of stabbing her own widened eye.

“Sir gave it to me,” she finally answered. Her smile on Husk was exceedingly frenzied. “He says I should go have a lot of fun with it! Paint the town red! Go skin a cat!” She smiled so hard, one could hear a tooth crack.

No matter what, Niffty always managed to instill a drop of fear in Husk. The fur on the back of his neck rose in response.

Niffty then played with the knife, tossing it back and forth between hands like a juggling act. “I really like you, Husk! So I’ll make sure we’ll have lots of fun!”

Nothing about what would happen within the next five seconds was Husk’s idea of fun.

But the decision had already been made. He rolled his shoulders, gripped the bottle tightly in his hand. He imagined blood specks dripping down its surface, and tried to stabilize himself.

“Whatever you say, kid.”

Niffty didn’t seem to hear him. She darted forward quickly, like a scurrying cockroach, making Husk step back. It was like a siren erupted in his head at the sight of it.

It was familiar.

He held up the jagged end of his bottle while he got his wings ready to soar.

What a sick game Alastor liked to play with them both.

--

The knock on his door was rough, jagged, and intensive. It was enough to make Alastor stop his task at the moment, eyebrow raised, the feedback growing. The cracked shell of a radio, laid out in pieces on an oak desk, sputtered as if it searched in vain for a clear signal, anywhere.

Putting down the screwdriver alongside it, he then walked to the door, opening it inward. His smile was at the ready, for he could hear the halting breaths from the other side. He knew such breaths so well. 

This evening would truly be more entertaining now.

“Evening, Husker. I’m pleased you got my message.”

Husker’s hat was lowered, not with any real purpose. It looked as if it would fall off his head at any moment, the brim overshadowing part of his face. Even so, a golden gaze flared at Alastor, all while blood dripped down his fur to form a puddle at his feet. His wing was also half torn and slightly crooked, feathers all out of place and mismatched. A dreadful image all around.

In his arms was a tiny body, the dress on her peppered with torn holes and rips in the fabric. On Niffty’s face, her smile was stuck in a happy rictus, while her eye was thankfully shut.

Husker was shaking—whether in pain or rage, it was hard to say. Such feelings tended to blend together whenever Alastor was involved.

“This has to stop,” he said thickly. 

Alastor leaned in just enough to look down at Niffty, cradled in Husker’s arms like she was as fragile as she appeared. She was as still as a tombstone, the blood on her dried. “But you can’t deny that rapturous smile on her. Just look at the girl, living true to her heart’s desires!”

“All because you fucking make her!” Husker’s shout had consequences, making him stagger and cough. His arm reached out reflexively to keep him from falling.

The hand fell onto Alastor’s shoulder, who used it as an opportunity to pull the sinner inside.

“If that’s what worries you so, then maybe you should answer my calls more often. It’s very simple!”

The door shut behind Husker, who flinched at the very sound, and then tried to pull his arm away from Alastor’s grip. That wouldn’t do, so Alastor quickly took Niffty from the other’s arms in one swift motion, bringing her to a nearby couch.

“You bastard. If you do anything to her—”

“Would it truly be worse than what you just did? My, there’s even more stab wounds on her than last time! You must really not want to go through regeneration.”

Alastor gently deposited her onto the couch, fixing up her hands to let go of the bloody knife she still held, which now sported bits of black fur on its surface. He straightened out the wrinkles of her dress, and pushed back her hair. She may be dead, but she still needed to look decent.

However, Niffty did always look so much more beautiful with fresh wounds and blood on her. He’d be sure to tell her such a thing when she woke.

Husker stayed silent, except for his heavy and painful breathing. It was clear something had punctured his lungs, but nothing that time and a nip of whiskey couldn’t fix.

“She should only need a day or two,” Alastor said after one last look over the deceased maid. “Certainly not like you and your two weeks absence last time! Who knew that a few missing limbs would take so long to grow back?”

He heard something break behind him—Husker taking out his anger on his furniture, even going so far as to smash one of his antique radios to the floor. (And newly refurbished too!) He could tell by the very sound of the particular wood that cracked and shattered.

Alastor turned around and tsked, seeing the remnants of dials roll on the floorboards. Such a shame. That certain model was hard to find nowadays. He mentally added another chore to his list.

“Using Niffty to try and get me on board is sick and twisted, even for you!” Husker kept getting more and more blood on the floor, which Alastor didn’t mind. His friend was growing paler by the second, and all of his yelling was certainly not helping. “Stop making me do this! I don’t want to hurt her anymore!”

“Then just simply don’t. Let yourself get torn apart if you’d like!” Alastor gave Husker a small pat on his cheek, tousling the fur as he did so. “There’s really no need to be so worried. You know our dear Niffty enjoys it! Why, she was looking forward to seeing you all day!”

Husker snarled, sharp teeth bared and ready to tear out any throat. But Alastor noted that such teeth were clean, free of any specks of blood. He always tried so hard to not use what was at his disposal when roughhousing with Niffty—not that it mattered in the end. She was still very dead.

“I can’t keep doing this,” Husk said, lower this time.

“Then honor your end of the deal.” Alastor leaned forward again, neck crooked down to angle at Husker like the twisted branch of a dead tree. Oh, how he liked it when Husker looked so small. “And you will get what you want.”

Husker barely gave another snarl, blood running down his chin. He was getting weaker. “Only you ever get what you want.”

“And isn’t that what’s important in the end?” Alastor asked with laughter in his throat as well as his heart.

Husker continued to cough up more blood. It splattered against the floorboards, staining the broken radio dials. Perhaps there were bits of viscera as well, enough to make his dear friend shake and fall to his knees.

“Why…do you even want me?” Another broken cough. Niffty had surely done a number on him—and then it was even more obvious once Husker’s hat finally fell off. The left side of his face was completely covered in red, revealing the mess left behind by a missing eye.

Alastor chuckled. “Deals are not made to be broken. Not with me.”

“But I’m just one soul of many.” Husker continued to be a nuisance and protest, inundated with more of his pestering coughs and sharp gasps. The sounds of it soured Alastor’s mood. “You don’t need me.”

What a presumptuous statement.

At that, Alastor reached a hand downward. Fingers curled over Husker’s cheek once more, a thumb pressing so dangerously close to the gaping wound on his face.

A press of it, and blood leaked down further. Husker yelped and shuddered, but could not move back. Alastor would not let him.

“You will not be a dealbreaker.”

Husker’s remaining eye widened, even as he never stopped showing his teeth. Perfect, sharp things that would never tear through a young girl’s flesh. If there was a time Husker wanted to sink such fangs into Alastor, perhaps he would let him. To see just how desperate and hungry he really was.

Alastor could use someone like him—on his little uncompensated payroll at least, if not by his side.

“I understand that you’re a charlatan at heart, dear Husker, but you won’t shun me away like all those you owe a debt to. It’s not welcome here. Once Niffty wakes, I’ll be sure to give her a new little task that she’d be happy to indulge in.” A little twist of his neck, so sharp that he could see Husker visibly wince from the cracks. “Or is it perhaps that you look forward to your gorey fights as much as Niffty does?”

Husker’s hand reached to grab Alastor’s own, as if to wrench it away. Perhaps that had been the plan, but Alastor was stubborn, pressing his fingertips further into Husker. Another wince, another small grunt of pain.

But the once-Overlord simply kept his hand on Alastor, pressing his own blood against the jacket sleeve. Darker crimson, nearly turned to black.

“Fine. Fine. I’ll fucking join you if this stops.” A blink, followed by a waver of his remaining eye. “I can’t take this anymore.”

Alastor searched Husker’s face for a sliver of a lie. For, of course, the demon loved to lie, and cheat, and swindle when he had been on top. But there was sincerity in his tone, perhaps moved more by the girl he had to kill time and time again.

Really, Husker was such a sentimental man. He should know death meant nothing here.

“Good choice!” Alastor pulled up Husker, who nearly slipped in his own blood. But a catch of the woozy deadbeat was a consequence, and one that Alastor simply didn’t mind. “Now, let’s get you bandaged up. We can’t have you wasting valuable time on healing. You’ll have to take care of some of Niffty’s duties now while she’s out of commission!”

“You’re such a…bastard…” Husker whined, the words coming out muffled with his face pressed against Alastor’s chest.

Oh, what a delight he was.

Alastor couldn’t help himself as he ran a few fingers down Husker’s fur, the touch soft and thrilling against his fingertips. The little growl at his chest also felt quite wonderful, but his friend could hardly do anything to push back. He had already lost so much blood, and could only further sink into Alastor’s warmth as his own body grew colder. 

“Always playing hard to catch,” spoke Alastor softly, his radio filter reduced to a sizzle. Seeing Husker’s ears wince from it was all too amusing. 

“Not a game…” Husker was repeating, even as his voice trailed, and his breath slowed. “It’s not…”

“Oh, but it is,” Alastor made sure to whisper just before Husker succumbed to sleep, so that he could hear it in his dreams.

And Alastor so enjoyed little games such as this—the chase and the struggle—but he enjoyed the inevitable victory so much more.

--

There’s always an incredible burning sharpness that drives into one’s lungs just before they come back to life. Like ice picks rattling inside a rib cage, never losing its shape, or cyanide directly injected into an arm. It’s more painful than dying, in a sense. The rush of life breathed into something dead and rotting, as an act that shouldn’t be done, unnatural in all its forms.

Niffty always enjoyed it the most. The sensation was so strong and so good, it would make her head spin relentlessly when she woke up. Sometimes she’d even heave out everything in her stomach, the pain bringing white flashes in her vision.

But there was no vomit this time, and she only went blind for a few seconds instead of hours. She blinked, hacked out a spare needle, and saw a familiar hand catch it in the air.

“Alastor!” she squealed happily, sitting up in his lap. She felt his hand stroke her hair with such softness. She didn’t mind it when it came from him. “How long was I out this time?”

“Hm, perhaps a good three days, give or take.” Alastor stroked a finger down Niffty’s chin, ticklish in its route. It made her blush. “Did you have any nice dreams?”

“Oh, absolutely! I was being eaten by a shark! It was really nasty!” She cackled, leaning into his touch like an eager kitten. As she happily kicked her legs, she noticed her new clean dress, no longer ripped! This one even had a nice little polka-dot pattern on its hem. “You got me some new clothes!”

“I always ensure you only get the best!” Alastor said with a nod.

Niffty placed her now healed hands over her cheeks, smiling widely. I love it when he takes advantage of little ol’ unconscious me.

Then, her day just got even better once she looked past Alastor and saw a familiar slouching body at a table. Wings drooped to the floor, and several shot glasses were arranged all across the table’s surface. The intensive golden gaze pierced through her as did the end of his broken bottle, all over her chest and legs. 

“You’re here, too!” Then a quick turn to her benefactor, who was now tapping his fingers along one of her spindly arms. “Alastor, does this mean…”

“Absolutely. You did a fine job, Niffty. Good girl!”

Such praise made her almost delirious. She could hardly contain it, and soon rushed over to Husk, leaving both Alastor’s lap and the couch. 

Husk flinched, the chair he was seating on giving a small scrape against the floorboards. “Hey, hold on—”

She was already scrabbling up his legs to stand in his lap. Husk shook, and looked ready to push her right off. What a silly guy!

But a closer look revealed to her an important discovery. The white bandages wrapped over Husk’s left side of his face were as beautiful to her as the translucent wings of a roach.

She giggled and pointed at him, then pointed at herself. “We match now! I almost wish your eye didn’t have to grow back!”

“...You really know how to say the wrong thing, every damn time.”

Alastor gave a sharp clap with his hands. “Now, now. You two can reminisce about your bonding experiences another time!” He stood up from the couch, pulling his familiar radio cane out of the darkness, as if it had been laying in wait within tar. “We have work to do.”

Niffty shook excitedly. She was already envisioning their next job and hoped it involved a lot of sharpness—maybe even some teeth.

“You fucking kidding me?” Husk said in a sour voice. “Niff just woke up, and I’m still missing my damn eye!”

“Oh, Husker. You can’t blame others for your own failures, you know.” Alastor passed both of them, making sure to give each equal pats on the head. Niffty leaned into the touch, feeling Alastor’s claws scrape against her scalp, like the skittering legs of insects that would burrow in one’s hair. Husk tried to lean away, which made Alastor grab him by the ear.

“Niffty, are you feeling up to it, unlike our dear friend?” Alastor asked of her, still holding Husk firmly. The gleam of his monocle flashed against the light, and there was a small vibration in the air. The kind that made her heart hum pleasantly.

“Yes!” she answered. She grinned wide, still feeling the scars on her face that would take a bit more time to disappear. Some scars came from Husk’s claws—she wondered just how deep they went. “I really love this job! Makes me feel like an independent woman!”

“Ha! Indeed you are!” Alastor then let go of Husk, snapping his ear back like a rubber band. “Both of you get yourselves ready while I gather some supplies. Or I just might have to leave without you!”

“Kay!” Niffty waved goodbye, as if her beau would be gone for a long time. Heartbreak was a different kind of pain, but she hadn’t felt such a thing for so long. Maybe she’ll be lucky someday!

But once Alastor left through a side door, Husk suddenly took Niffty’s hand. “I need to tell you something.”

The girl looked back to him, tilting her head. Oh. Ohhh.

He was hitting on her, wasn’t he? She always suspected the old man had a crush on a young thing like her.

“Niff, I’m-I’m sorry for what I did. I swear I didn’t mean to kill you this time.” He looked away, his other hand gripping the shot glass. “I just… I wasn’t right in the head. You came at me while I was shit-faced and—”

Oh, he was definitely hitting on her.

“Hehe, silly boy,” she patted Husk’s hand with a gentle tease to her voice. “You want a quickie then to feel better?”

Husk blinked, looked at her for a while. Then, he swiftly pulled his hand away from her.

“I’m…trying to apologize to you.”

“Yeah, I get it! But if you wanted something, we’d have to do it later. Sir doesn’t like those kinds of messes at his home!” She then looked at him with a half-lidded eye, absolutely nailing that sultry look she would see in those posters at the porn district. “I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll even give you a good punishment, you bad boy.”

The thought was already exciting her. She’d be sure to pencil in a date for them both. All their bloody fights to the death would of course lead to some sexual tension.

In response, Husk was staring at her with still eyes. Then those eyes shifted to the table, to a half-empty shot glass that cracked at the rim. “This can’t be real.”

He really was such a silly kitty. Probably had trouble keeping it up for very long, but she would be patient!

Niffty hopped off his legs to land on the floor. She didn’t stumble, her healing already going quick now that she was moving around. No bones snapped, no tendons ripped apart at the strain. She was almost a little disappointed.

“Anyway, we better fix ourselves up! Can’t be filthy!” She grasped at his tail, using the little end of it like a feather duster to spiff up her dress.

But Husk wasn’t listening to her. Instead, he was still seated at the table. Then, he put his head in his hands. He was mumbling something too.

It was very similar to how she found him in the alleyway—except it looked like Husk was about to cry. Impressive to do so with a missing eye, and she was sure he didn't have as many wounds on him like she did, so there couldn’t be much pain. Was it heartbreak? Fear? Or maybe loneliness?

She was almost a little jealous. Niffty wanted to feel such pain too! But unlike her, he didn’t seem to be enjoying it very much.

Oh!! She could fix that!

She would always love bad boys, but she couldn’t help but have a heart for the softies.

Another little climb over the table, her reflexes and flexibility already back to how they once were before her temporary death. She made sure to step around the shot glasses, careful to not upturn any. Then, she put her hands over his face, making him startle.

“Don’t—” Husk hissed out, before dialing it back. His brow furrowed, watching Niffty carefully who stared back at him. “What are you doing?”

He really shouldn’t be worried. She didn’t even have her knife on her!

Then, with a small giggle, she leaned forward and gave Husk a soft little peck on his furry forehead.

“Isn’t it great that we’re best friends now?” she said, so maniacally happy, she felt ready to burst. But spontaneous combustion wasn’t as easy to perform, even when one wanted to expire in Hell. “Now we can hang out together all the time!” Then another laugh that went a little too long. “You’ll never be alone again!”

It all made sense now why Alastor wanted Husk to join—and she felt the same way. They would both make sure to never, ever let him out of their sight.

Husk was silent. He must have been stunned by her devotion! With a giddy smile, she ruffled the fur over his face, then gave him a quick peck on the nose. “And I’ll still give you that quickie later too!” Then, in a lower voice. “Then we can really be friends… with benefits!”

Those fuzzy giant eyebrows of his furrowed, covering half of his forehead. “We really don’t need to.”

“But I want to!”

“We really don’t.”

He winced, and she could see the bandages over his face shift. They were dirty, clearly needing a fresh change. So, with quick efficiency, she pulled out a roll of gauze from her skirt pocket. Alastor always made sure she was prepared. “Gosh, you need to take better care of yourself, you know!”

Husk flinched when she shifted her small hands to go over his covered wound. Another shake when she unrolled the bandages, dirty with his crusted blood and pus. His eye socket was still empty—it would be weeks more before he would get his eye back, the healing process for that a mind-numbing experience. She would know, and she was so excited for him.

So, Niffty was careful when she wrapped the new bandage over his head. They weren’t fighting now, so she could be gentle! Husk didn’t look at her, his gaze fixed back to the table.

“All done!” she announced. But before she hopped off the table, Husk said something.

“Thank you.” It had been so soft that she would have missed it if an explosion or a car crash happened at just that moment. “Can you give me a moment before we leave?”

At that, Niffty sweeped out her dress, then sat at the edge of the table, kicking her feet happily. “Of course! We’re besties now.” She giggled, reaching out to scratch the fur at his cheek. “I’ve always liked you, Husk.”

Husk didn’t move away from her hand, but leaned into the touch. He closed his eyes and sighed.

“I’m fine just being that. Just friends. Alright?” He sighed softly. “Please.”

Alastor had always taught her—especially after these battles with Husk, when he’d lick away the blood from her wounded fingers, praising her zeal, her incredible work ethic—that one needed to be ambitious to pursue their goal. To break down boundaries. After all, as an independent woman, she shouldn’t shy away from what she wanted.

But maybe, she’d do things differently. She’d be patient with Husk. He couldn’t resist her feminine wiles forever!

And she always wanted more friends.

“You’re cute! You get double scritches now!” So with both hands, she scratched behind his ears, already hearing him purr.

“Hey, I’m not some…Hmm…” Husk closed his eyes, letting the petting continue. The sight of it set her heart aflutter, which usually only did when her beloved Sir would grace her with a touch and smile.

Niffty was so excited for their future together.

[mc-tums-fog]

Under The Desert Sky

Fic Summary: Upon arriving in Australia from America and taking up the job as a ranch hand for the Marston Ranch for the sake of your family, the only thing you could find worthwhile of your attention was the night sky that was endless of stars. But that might start to change when you find that the particularly precise ranch owner sees you as someone worthwhile of his attention.

Pairing: Elliott Marston x GN! Reader

Chapter I: To Catch a Glimpse of the Stars

Content Warnings For This Chapter: Period-Typical Racism (Mentions against the Aboriginal people and Native Americans), Ableist Language/Ableism, Canon-Typical Violence

Notes:

Right now the plan for this is to be 5 parts long with each part uploaded on Tuesdays so hopefully at least one of those two stick.

TL;DR: Your Honor, his ass is down so bad to fix him and his racism he made a canon divergence fic

Also shout out to @smilingformoney cause I like how she formats fics on Tumblr so got major inspiration for how I'll share this fic here and for also jumpstarting my infatuation with Elliott Marston because I was only looking at Hans Gruber gifs on her blog while she was posting Elliott Marston gifs and once I saw Alan Rickman in an all black cowboy outfit I knew it was over for me.

Read on Ao3 or below the cut:

You already knew that from the moment you had first set foot into Australia that you hated it. The journey of crossing a vast amount of ocean with your family cramped into a ship containing at least fifty other passengers, one third of which were seasick, was not pleasant to begin with. Arriving in a climate you had rarely experienced before made it worse. The month you arrived in the city of Sydney; it was a warm welcome that was very much unwelcome. The air was hot, stifling, and every sense of the word cramping. You weren’t used to this kind of temperature, having lived in mostly cool city regions, and at times traveling to mountain regions that offered year snow. Did Australia even have snow?

Regardless, this would not have been your first place to move to. Or second. Or third. You didn’t even realize Australia existed if you were completely honest. You honestly thought your cousin, or uncle-honestly, you couldn’t remember your relation to the guy anyway- was making it up when he said he lived down here just so he didn’t have to attend family get-togethers. So when you had learned that there was a smaller continent that was right in the middle of the ocean, you were surprised. And scared at the prospect of moving. But you really had no other choice. Your father had come down with a sickness that left him with a coughing fit every single day. You caught the signs early, and the doctor recommended that you all move to a hotter climate as soon as you could, as it would ease the sickness progression, and hopefully, stop it all together. So, whoever your relative meant to you, offered the opportunity for you all to come down here. You found that it worked better, as no other family member lived in a hotter state, and you didn’t want to move to somewhere new where you didn’t know at least one other person. Especially since without the physical illness, your father, admittedly, was not all “there” mentally.

He hardly spoke to others and when he did, he was a man of few words, often which people couldn’t completely understand. He didn’t like being in certain areas and was really only comfortable with a small handful of people. He couldn’t do certain tasks but the ones he could do, he excelled at. But not many people found his skills useful. So, often, your mom would have to take care of him beforehand. Now the time and care she put in helping him went double time once he got ill. It would give her extra comfort to know that she had a relative she could reach by in time while being in the optimal location for his health.

So, whatever your personal feelings were the moment you stepped onto Australia, being far away from a place of familiarity, you had to hold it down for your family’s sake. You could adjust to a strange land.

And to Sydney’s credit, you were surprised, but comforted to see that there were building structures resembling the ones you grew up in, with there even being forests that were distant but visible to the naked eye. From what other passengers had been describing, the picture painted in your head about Australia was mostly a desert region, territory with which you were unfamiliar. So, at the very least, it seemed like you could make this work. So long as you found a job or two that allowed you to be indoors most of the time, you’d be fine.

And that’s how it was going, fine. You got a decent place to stay, worked jobs that allowed you to be away from the heat and come back home before nightfall to help your mom prep dinner and take care of your dad, and let the darkness from outside make your already cool room even cooler. As far as work went, it was much like the other times you worked, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. You could get used to this routine.

But it hadn’t even been six months since your arrival and you, and your family were already starting to have financial troubles again. It was like this before, with the family struggling to make ends meet. But at the very least, sometimes the different workforces you worked at would be charitable and allow your dad to work to some capacity, so long as you or your mom were around to help keep an eye on him. That was before he got physically ill. Sure, you could see improvements now that you were all here, but he still wasn’t well enough to work. So, it was just you to be the one to provide for the family. But the jobs that you did have were not enough.

As luck had it, that extended uncle-cousin had the opportunity to help you and your family out again. He knew someone who owned a ranch, who needed both a ranch hand and a way to repay back your family member. So, he brought you up, as you had prior experience of working at ranches and on farms. Both of those jobs were short periods in your life, but you excelled in them well. It was a deal that would work out for them both in the long run.

The catch was that it was in the Northern Territory of Australia, within what they called the “outback” region. That would mean you needed to move up nearby or live within the ranch for convenience’s sake. With your dad still only just barely getting better, and your mom still needing to take care of him, all of you couldn’t move up there easily. But it was a higher paying job that would have benefited you. Even if you hated how hot it was here now, you’d do the work in order to make sure your family was comfortable. You told your extended relative that you would take the job, so long as the ranch owner would accommodate by sending the majority of the money down to your parents. It would allow them time to build up the funds, and for your dad to get better, to move up there safely and in their own time. Once he got it squared away, you made the journey.

Traveling through the desert region made you realize how you took Sydney for granted. The colder months had just started to wear off, and the farther you went up north, the hotter it got. You did your best by staying inside the wagon whenever possible, as it had a covering over it. But that still wouldn’t stop the dirt and sand getting inside of the wagon. The sounds of wild animals would bother you more than it did your relative, he was used to it as he carried a gun around like it was an extension of himself. It was a bit unnerving for you, with not having much experience in weaponry.

Every night before you went to bed you had to remind yourself who you were doing this for, and just hoped the ranch owner was charitable in allowing time for you to take breaks when needed.

He was anything but.

After traveling for a few days and arriving at the ranch, the owner, named Elliott Marston, wasted no time in putting you to work shortly after your introductions. This initial interaction already set you off on the wrong foot with him. You could already tell this man was someone to not go against in any capacity. Your general tasks ranged from actual ranch hand work, such as taking care of the livestock, fixing the fences, emptying out the wagons when they made their supply runs, things like that.

But then Marston and his other men would have you perform menial tasks that would make you think they could easily do it themselves. It was particularly annoying when the men would criticize you or when Marston would watch you from his house, which he did from time to time. You didn’t know why. Perhaps the city look was still that much apparent on you, or Australians and Americans had distinct mannerisms that you had no idea about. Especially as some moments when you tried to take a break by dunking your head into a barrel of water, and if Marston and his men were nearby, his men would make a joke about how you weren’t accustomed to the heat.

These things, you could hold your tongue for. Menial tasks, the mockery, you could withstand that if it meant you got good pay. Which you did. But the longer you stayed there the quicker you realized how much his men were more focused on practicing their shooting, hooting and hollering with the ladies they brought back, and going after and attacking the Aboriginal people, you realized how much harder this was going to be. You didn’t care for any of that, especially towards the disrespect to the Aboriginals. In America, the tribes you encountered were the only group to show more respect for your fathers’ mental issues, unlike those in the big cities. You could see similarities as you learned more about them and who they were on the land. Seeing them treated like that, it would make your skin boil more than when the sun boiled your skin.

Still, it wasn’t something that you could just say that you went directly against without putting your job at risk. It killed you, knowing that you were trading your morals for money. But you just had to rationalize to yourself that it wouldn’t be much longer. Writing to your mom as often as you could, you just hoped that they could save enough that they could just downgrade somewhere in Australia, or maybe you could convince your relative to take you all into his house. So long as you could find a way where you didn’t have to work at the Marston Ranch while leaving amicably for the sake of your relatives’ connection, you would hold your tongue.

And you tried. You really tried. But as the hotter months progressed with barely any break time, besides sleeping in the lodge provided to the workers, and with the right set of words thrown at you to get you going, you couldn’t do that anymore.

Despite it still being within springtime, Australia never got any cooler for you. It was getting late in the afternoon one day as you were moving hay bales for the horses to eat when you overheard one of the men talking. You did your best to tune them out whenever they weren’t directly talking to you or giving you orders. But this topic of discussion revolved around the two Aboriginal women that they had on the ranch. Both of whom were still very much within earshot of what the men were saying. They threw various insults about them like they weren’t there, but knowing full well that they were.

It brought you back to the times that you brought your father to work with you at your jobs, and how the rest of the workers would say hurtful things about him, right to his face, and laugh. They did it under the assumption that he wouldn’t know what they were saying. But you could tell, in a way that he did. And even if he didn’t, you did. And that was enough to send words, and if necessary, fists right to them.

So, with the added heat from the sun to fuel your decision to finally shut them up, you looked over to them and called out as you were setting down the last haybale.

“Would you quit going on about them? They’ve done nothing to you.”

The men, and the two women perked up at you. The women’s faces were unreadable; however, the men made their feelings very clear.

“Keep workin’, this conversation’s got nothing to do with you.” One of the men, Coogan if you recalled correctly, tried to wave you off.

“With how loud and obnoxious your voice is I’m forced to be part of the conversation.” Your rebuttal back to him was, as you looked back to the hay bales.

He stood up more properly, as if to try to seem more imposing, despite still being a good amount of feet away from you.

“You think being from the big city gives you the right to talk to me like that?”

You rolled your eyes as you walked away from the stables. “No, but it’s given me the displeasure of knowing that no matter what country I’m in, there’s still the same kind of stupidity that’ll set us back to the stone age. And I’m not going to be silent about it.”

The other men started to clamor as they could sense it was starting to get heated, at least from Coogan’s side. You were just planning to rest up in the lodge, thinking that he was just going to wave you off again, when his next words set off the simmering coals that were in you into a roaring fire.

“Well, it’s clear your mom didn’t teach you some manners. Because she would’ve been busy takin’ care of your dad. And we know he’s too slow to teach you anything!”

The clamoring among the men grew louder, but all you could hear was the ringing in your ears as you stopped in your tracks and looked him dead in the eye. You had heard them whisper among each other about your reasoning for being here when you first started working. But this was the first time they had directly made fun of your family.

It was going to be the last.

One fistfight later, that ended up with a set of stitches and a black eye for a Coogan, and a badly bruised rib cage and bruised cheek to you, you already began to pack your things from the lodge. You figured that you might as well wait beside the trees that were closer to the ranch entrance. Elliott Marston hadn’t been there due to some sort of business he needed to attend to with Major Ashley-Pitt a few days prior. If he had you would’ve likely experienced the consequences sooner. However, he was expected to come back later that evening. And you were expecting that once he did, the men would pull a primary school move and tell on you, and at best, you would be fired and either have to leave right then or in the morning. At worst… Well, you didn’t think about that or how Elliott Marston always had his pistol on his hip and how quickly he drew his gun on deserters.

Sure enough, he came back riding on his horse when the sun was just starting to set. He took note of you sitting by the tree, with your arms crossed as you looked ahead, only to give him the briefest acknowledgement by turning to face him slightly. Surely, he saw your bruised up face, but he didn’t comment on it, his expression unreadable. Which, that’s how it always was when he stared at you for no good reason. You continued back with staring ahead. As he got off his horse and went into his home, you could already hear the few footsteps of his men, with Coogan calling out to him.

You couldn’t hear what they were saying but you huffed in annoyance anyway. More so at yourself at this point.

You wanted to be a provider for your family. But this was taking a toll on you. You knew on a deeper level, if you explained the situation to your family, they’d be happy that you stood on your morals and got out of there when things weren’t going well. However, your mom particularly didn’t want you to get taken over by your pride for yourself and your family. Especially when it could have easily gotten you killed. It’s clear those men weren’t didn’t have to use guns to protect themselves. Though you were sure if she saw the state of your face now, she’d do everything she could to make sure those men weren’t standing either.

You laughed a bit. If she got her hands on them the men would get a glimpse on what your mom did teach you and that you went easy on Coogan.

Then there was the issue of money. You had initially figured that it would be quite easy to find another job if you left this one. But that was on the assumption you left on good terms. With how influential Elliott Marston seemed to be, especially with his connections to the army, it was possible that word of mouth would spread. And the influence would decrease your chances of getting hired by others within the area.

You sighed, rubbing your eyes, which caused you to flinch at the pressure of the bruised side of your face. You flopped your hands down and bumped your head back against the tree. Which unsurprisingly also didn’t help with the apparent pain in your head that was growing all together. You were about to close your eyes and wait for the inevitability of being let go either tonight or first thing in the morning when you stopped yourself. Through the leaves of the tree, you could still see the night sky, and the brilliant number of stars that were beginning to show.

You got up, wincing as you maneuvered to pick up your bag, and walked further out over to a crate that was close by the fence. You positioned it so that you were sitting on the crate but resting your arms on one of the wooden planks. As you looked up, a few things suddenly dawned on you.

First, you have rarely ever looked up at the night sky here in Australia. Second, you have rarely been outside at night during your whole time here in Australia, besides the occasional bathroom break. And third…

The Australian night sky was breathtakingly beautiful.

You didn’t think you'd ever seen this many stars in your life. Back home, the city night sky, when you looked up at it, hardly showed any indication of stars. It was always dark, looming and glooming over you. It felt miserable to look at, so you never did. But tonight, here in the desert, the amount of stars and the big bright moon casting the area in a calming deep blue hue that made it bright enough to still see everything was nothing like you had seen before. You didn’t feel dread when looking up at it like you had in the city before. There was something to it that made you feel a sense of calmness that you hadn’t experienced in a long while.

It was peaceful.

The serenity of the scattered stars shining over you was short-lived. You could hear precise footsteps from behind walking over to you. You exhaled through your nose in annoyance, already preparing yourself mentally for the chewing out you were likely going to get. You still stared ahead, but in your peripheral vision you saw Elliott Marston come up to your left and lean his own arms against the fence, still dressed in that all black attire that he typically wore.

You don’t even know how he was able to do that with how intensely hot it got during the day. At night you could see how the outfit could work for him, blending into the shadows. But during the day he stuck out like a sore thumb amongst his men.

“Seems you and Coogan had a quarrel.” He said in a strangely calm voice, looking down at you.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at his tone. He always had this sense of superiority that was more than just being someone’s boss when he talked to others. It was like he viewed himself as better than everyone else in the room. You hated it. You figured that’s why he wore all black, just so he could stand out among the rest. He could surely hear you scoff at him, with how quiet it was, and could surely see you roll your eyes at him, given that he was standing above you while you were still sitting down and could see your face clearly. But once again, he didn’t comment on your reaction directly and continued.

“I don’t appreciate fighting among my workers, nothing gets done once they do.”

“And I don’t appreciate the disrespect he showed to my parents,” A quick brief pause, before you decided to add the last part, “And to the Aboriginals.” You figured that since you were already in the shit, you might as well go further into it.

You could tell he cocked his head at you as you still stared straight ahead.

“I could understand defending your parents honor, but to defend such an uncivilized kind of-”

You cut him off, finally looking up at him. “You think you’re any better than them?”

For a split moment, the unreadable stare he normally had finally had an expression to tie it down to, that being shock. He really must’ve not been expecting you to say something to him. Maybe he figured that you would turn yellow and try to smooth the situation out for your sake. He was wrong. The emotion was there for only a moment as he composed himself to get back into his usual stare. But you could tell that the gears in his head were turning much like a clock. As if he was trying to convince himself that you didn’t say what you just said to him.

“They’ve come and ruined our crops and livestock, something that keeps us fed and workers a job, which includes you mind you.” He said in an even calmer tone of voice. Like he was restraining himself. Like he was giving you another out to take back what you said and learn to respect what he was saying.

But it didn’t. And you had no problem in not restraining yourself.

“And you don’t think for a second that maybe it’s because of what you’re doing to them? They’ll easily make trades with those in the other towns as I’ve heard, with no issues whatsoever. No bloodshed from either group. Meanwhile, you and your men hold hunting parties when they travel through the desert, to get away from you, mind you.”

He seemed like he was going to rebuttal that statement, but you weren’t done.

“I hear you talk about how you’re a student for other countries like America. Wearing your intelligence like it’s a badge. But if you can’t see how your ruthless acts are on par to what you claim the Aboriginals are doing to you, then you mustn’t be a good one.”

You looked back up to the stars.

“You’re no better than any of them.”

You were certain that your chances of getting fired were increased by the max right now. And if there was initially no chance of him taking more drastic measures, such as leaving you to die in Australia, the chances were increased now. But you couldn’t keep your opinions to yourself any longer. You respected yourself too much for that. Even now, when you could feel his intense gaze burning into you, you weren’t going to beg for his mercy.

The few moments of silence were so heavy and filled with tension, only being broken by the night sounds and distant barking of a dingo, or coyote, you still couldn’t tell the difference. You were just waiting for the moment that he would break it by whatever reaction he saw fit.

But the reaction you got wasn’t what you expected.

“You don’t know me well enough to make that judgement.”

You were about to counter that statement when what he said right after stopped you.

“But I suppose the same could be said about me to you.”

You didn’t understand what he meant by that. And why he said it in a much softer and more thoughtful tone than how he was originally speaking. But you didn’t have time to ponder that as he added more to your confusion.

“I’m a man of my word. I intended to uphold the deal between your cousin and I.”

Well at least your relatives’ identity got squared away, though you were certain he was old enough to be your uncle.

But that wasn’t important right now. You were still trying to figure out how he was even allowing you to breathe at this point.

You waited to hear if he would then explain the consequence for speaking and acting like that towards his men and especially to him. But a moment passed, and he still didn’t say anything. He kept staring out to where you were looking at, which was right at the stars. Getting lost into them just as much as you had been a moment prior.

You were about to bite the bullet and ask him what the catch was to still being employed to him, but he got up from where he was standing and began to walk back. As he walked, he spoke in that calm yet full of that superiority tone of voice he normally had.

“That fence is not stable. Unless you plan on working with a lantern, I expect you to be working on it early in the morning.”

You just looked at him as he continued walking away, dumbfounded. That task was like the other tasks he had given you before. So, it wasn’t like he was going to work you to death. Unless he had that planned for later. But if he was truly a man of his word then he was still going to keep the deal going. You could only assume that this meant he wasn’t going to decrease the pay. Surely if he did, he would know that you would write to your cousin about it, leading to more complications between the two.

So, what was it. What was the catch that he had planned.

You weren’t sure, and you knew it would be best to keep your guard up for the coming days. But for now… you looked back up to the stars one more time. You could tell that the calmness that they brought will be helpful to get you through whatever was going to happen within the next, however long you were employed here.

You took comfort in knowing that the stars would be there when the catch came.

[darks-ink]

Welcome back! I saw you are taking story ideas so I wanted to submit two of the prompts I wrote for Phic Phight.

1) Danny's excuse when someone notices the resemblance between Fenton and Phantom and comes too close to his secret: The ghost is his dead twin who he ate in the womb. This might have more truth to it than he originally thought.

2) Long ago Clockwork had and lost a child, the young Ancient of Space. Even with his Sight of time, he could never see what became of them, only that they disappeared. Now another being that evades his Sight has crashed into his existence. Another child, and this one a boy with the stars in his eyes and the cold of space in his veins.

I hope you like either of these!

Thank you! I went with #1, but admittedly it turned out a little short.

Duplicity

Rating: Gen Warnings: focuses on vanishing twins & the formation of ghosts, especially in connection to each other Words: 770 Additional Tags: Post-reveal, Good Fenton parents

[AO3]

---

“You know, one thing still confuses me about ghost cores.” Danny resisted the temptation to fidget when three pairs of eyes turned to him. “Or, uh, the cores of half-ghosts, at least?”

“Do tell, Great One, and perhaps I can answer.” Frostbite turned further to face him.

“Well, um.” Danny’s eyes darted over to his parents, briefly, before returning to Frostbite. “Isn’t it kinda weird that my core is more stable than Dani and Vlad? Like, I thought Dani was just because she was a clone, so she was destabilizing, but apparently Vlad got really sick as he was developing his powers? But I was, well, fine?” He shrugged, unsure of how to put his thoughts into words.

His mother hummed thoughtfully, but didn’t say anything. Neither did his dad, though he did frown.

“Of course not. Both other half-ghosts you refer to had to develop their own cores, growing them from scratch. You, on the other hand, absorbed yours from another ghost, thus stepping past the initial growing pains.”

Danny felt his heart stop. His core freeze. Thoughts grinding to a halt.

“Excuse me?” he blurted out, automatically, incredulously. “Are you telling me I killed another ghost?”

“No, no.” Frostbite lifted his hands, voice dropping into a soothing tone. “Although it is not unheard of for proper ghosts to fuse together into one, this sort of core-binding is only possible with blob ghosts.”

“And blob ghosts aren’t truly sentient, right?” Maddie hummed in thought, saving Danny the effort of trying to figure out what, exactly, Frostbite meant. “They’re barely more than free-floating ectoplasm, which is common here in the Ghost Zone.”

Frostbite nodded. “Indeed. A more developed ghost couldn’t have been absorbed in such a manner, so there is no need to worry, Great One.”

“That’s a relief.” Danny heaved a sigh. It still felt weird to imagine that his core wasn’t originally his, that it had developed separately, but, well. At least he hadn’t killed someone in the process.

“Although,” Frostbite suddenly started, interrupting Danny’s thoughts. “It is very unusual.”

“Oh?” Danny felt like slapping himself. Why did he ask for more information? He regretted asking in the first place. Knowing more wasn’t going to make himself feel better, was it?

But his parents would probably have asked if he hadn’t. Right? Yeah, definitely.

“Typically, ghosts require some form of connection to be present to bind together. Two fully-formed ghosts can fuse over shared goals or other such traits, but such a thing isn’t possible with a blob ghost. To absorb one of those, a more tangible connection is required.”

Frostbite eyed Danny, but he couldn’t quite read the emotion in his eyes. “Obviously the power of the Ghost Portal let you bypass the part where you weren’t a ghost yourself—” or perhaps he was dying and turning into a ghost anyway, “—but that connection would’ve still been necessary.”

But how. What? Who? The blob ghost must’ve come from somewhere, something, someone, but Danny couldn’t imagine, couldn’t think—

“Oh, that makes sense,” Maddie said, voice casual. “Danny absorbed his twin in the womb, so it makes sense for him to do the same thing with his twin’s ghost.”

“What?” Danny blurted out, turning to her in shock. “I had a twin? A twin I absorbed?!”

“Well, yes.” Maddie nodded, looking at him in confusion. “Of course, it happened fairly early on, so he wouldn’t have become a real ghost. But the impression of it, the potential of a twin gained and lost, that would’ve been enough form a blob ghost.” She turned to Frostbite. “Right?”

“Right.” Frostbite nodded back. “And yes, a connection like that would have worked quite well. A connection of blood and spirit, an action repeated. An echo between life and death.”

Danny shook his head. Well. Jerked his head side to side. “Are you serious? Why are you all acting like this is—this is normal, totally expected?”

“I thought you knew, honey.” Maddie was frowning at him now, confusion deepening. “Weren’t you the one who started using it as a cover?”

“What?” He blinked at her, then realized. Yes. Yes, he had been using that as an excuse for the resemblance between Danny Fenton and Phantom. A dead twin, a ghost which looked just like the living Danny. “I didn’t—I didn’t think it was real.”

“Oh.” She shot an uncertain look at Jack, then Frostbite, then turned to him. “Well. You know now?”

Danny stared at her, incredulous. Then shook his head. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do now.”

But what the hell was he supposed to think of all this?

[luluoccult]

Quitting I.M.P.

So... this is my first post on Tumblr! I'm not sure if I formatted everything correctly, but I hope it's somewhat readable! I decided I would go a bit tame on my first post since it's also been a long while since I've written anything for fun, but I hope y'all enjoy!!

Pairing: Blitz x Reader

Warning: Swearing

Word Count: 1.8K

You felt the anger boiling over as you and the other I.M.P. crew crossed into Hell from where you were on Earth. 

It was supposed to be a simple mission. Kill some cheating husband or something of the sort. It should have been a quick in and out, and to be fair, it was. That’s not what bothered you. 

For the past couple of missions, Blitz had taken away your chance to kill anyone. Every time you set up to kill the target, he would swipe in and kill them first, or he would have Millie or Moxxie take care of it. You knew you were one of the more recent additions to this business, but you had done more than prove yourself working with them in the first few weeks. It pissed you off, and this time around wasn’t any different. 

You were packing away your lunch quickly as you tried your best to mask your frustration and anger. 

“Are you good? You look like you want to bite off someone’s head,” Loona said as she took notice of how hard you were clutching your bag. 

“Just peachy,” you muttered as you began heading out. 

Luck, however, was not on your side as you remembered that the entire crew was supposed to go out for drinks that night. 

“Took you long enough, (Y/N)! The fuck were you doing anyways,” Blitz asked as you stepped back into the main lobby. 

You had to fight off a snarl that threatened to come out. Both Millie and Moxxie noticed something was wrong since your sweet demeanor was nowhere to be found. You took a breath before responding.

“I was packing up my stuff for the night,” you calmly responded, ensuring your emotions weren’t showing. You knew leaving it all pent up would end up bubbling over, but it hadn’t happened yet.

“You could just leave it here! Drinks are on me tonight!” 

You clutched your bag tighter and saw Moxxie looking back and forth between you and Blitz. 

Moxxie was the only one who knew about your crush on your boss because he happened to find you drunk at a bar one time and wanted to make sure you got home safe. Boy had you spilled a lot of information about your feelings that night. Luckily for you, Moxxie wasn’t the meddling type, though he did encourage you to tell Blitz how you felt. 

“Respectfully, sir, I’m really tired, and I just want to go home,” you said with a bit more hostility than you meant to.

The crew looked at you, confused. 

“Maybe we can do this another-“ Moxxie tried to interject, but Blitz interrupted him.

“The fucks got your panties in a twist?” 

You felt your eye twitch as Moxxie cringed. 

“I don’t know SIR. How about the fact that these past few clients we’ve had, you’ve managed to take the opportunity from me to kill them,” you spit out in exasperation. 

“Are you fucking serious right now,” Blitz moved closer to you, “You’re getting paid regardless. Why the fuck does it matter?” 

You clenched your fist tighter but stayed firm where you stood.

“I didn’t join this fucking business just to stand around and look pretty asshole!” 

You saw Blitz’s eye widen at the curse word since he wasn’t used to hearing it come from your mouth. 

“If you think I’m shit at my job, then fucking fire me or tell me what I’m doing wrong,” you yelled at him.

He remained speechless before you saw his expression change.

“Maybe I fucking should! At least someone who is actually pretty to look at, just in case, you bitch!” Blitz yelled in your face.

The silence that followed was extremely tense, as you and Blitz were suddenly very much in each other’s space. You felt your heart completely break, and Moxxie saw the quick, pained expression you couldn’t hide before becoming stoic. 

“Sir, that was uncalled for. They are highly skilled at their job. It would be a mistake-“ 

“No, you know what Moxxie? You heard it from the boss himself,” you laughed mirthlessly, cutting Moxxie off.  

You backed away from Blitz and picked up the bag you had dropped at some point during the screaming match. You began walking towards the door. Moxxie tried to stop you, but one stare showed that you weren’t fucking around. You heard Blitz sigh behind you.

“(Y/N), wait-“ Blitz started as you turned around quickly with your hand on the door handle.

“No, Blitz. I’ll make this easier for you. I fucking quit. Find someone better than me in all aspects,” you say harshly. 

You couldn’t help the tears that were pooling. Blitz’s eyes softened when he noticed, but you didn’t see it. You were ready to go, so you pushed open the door.

“You can’t just quit like that! On such short fucking notice! I can’t find someone that fucking quick,” Blitz yelled.

You couldn’t hear the desperation in his voice, only that he was yelling at you. 

“Don’t fucking yell at me! This business is no longer my fucking problem! God, I can’t believe I ever had feelings for you,” you scream at him as you walk out the door and slam it behind you. 

You were unaware of the chaos you left behind when that door closed.

~~

It had been a week since you quit I.M.P.

Luckily, you were wiser with your paychecks than Blitz, so you had enough to tide you over while you searched for a new job. 

Everyone except Blitz had come to visit you separately. The first and shortest visit was Loona. You had forgotten your favorite necklace in the office and begged her to drop it off. 

When she arrived, she was surprised to see you in disarray. Your hair was slightly messy, your eyes puffy, and you hadn’t changed out of your PJs. It was the day after, and you were utterly heartbroken. 

“Thanks, Loona,” you whispered as you took your favorite necklace back.

“No problem. Blitz saw me leaving with it, though. Moxxie managed to step in before he could reach me. Not like I would have handed it to him anyway.” 

There wasn’t much conversation before she decided to return to the office.

The following person to visit was Millie. Luckily, she saw you in a better state than Loona did, but your eyes hadn’t lost their puffiness. 

“Me and Mox miss you, (Y/N). It’s not the same without you,” Millie said as she passed you a pint of ice cream. 

“Right…”

“I’m serious! We know you’re good at killing, but you were also fun on the field!” Millie looked at you, and you knew she was being genuine. You thanked her, and she stayed with you that night, watching many movies. 

The last person to visit was Moxxie, who had much more to say.

“I’m sorry (Y/N), but what made you think that was the best way to confess?” Mox said as he stood right next to you in your bed. 

“It just came out, Mox. I didn’t mean to,” you sighed as you tried to fight off the tears again, “I wanted my words to hurt him as much as he did.”

After speaking those words out loud, you curled into yourself and silently cried. You heard Moxxie sigh.

“(Y/N), I really think you should talk to him,” Moxxie said, something in his tone. 

Still, you didn’t respond.

“I know he can be- “

“Moxxie….I need you to leave,” you said with a tear-filled voice. 

“(Y/N),” Moxxie tried to start again. 

“Please,” you begged. 

“Fine…I’ll be back, though,” he said, sighing. 

You felt a kiss on your head, and a few seconds later, you heard the door close. You let yourself cry and spend the rest of the day in bed.

~~

That was two days ago. You finally had enough and knew the money wasn’t never-ending. You began your job searching, but you weren’t having any luck.

You sighed as you dropped face-first on your couch, trying to forget all the horrible interviews you had been on today. You weren’t a perfect fit for any of the jobs, and you were beginning to wonder if it was worth it to return and get your job back.

You looked at the time and realized that you had been out all day. You decided to change into your comfy pajama shorts and tank top, deciding you weren’t going out anymore. If you were still working at I.M.P., you would have much more to do on a Friday night. 

You turned on the TV, letting it lull you to sleep as you spent another night alone.

~~

You were awoken at 1 AM by knocking on the door. You groaned as you wondered who could be waking you up at this hour. Moxxie did say he would be back, but you didn’t think it’d be in the dead of night. You yanked the door open, speaking before processing who stood before you.

“Damn it, Mox, I was slee-“ You cut off your words when you realized it wasn’t Moxxie in front of you, but Blitz.

You moved to shut your door again, but he shoved his foot in the door frame before pushing the door open and inviting himself in.

“That’s fucking rude,” Blitz said harshly as he took a look around your apartment.

“Says the asshole who’s inside an apartment that he wasn’t invited into,” you spat back at him. 

You saw Blitz roll his eyes and turn back to face you fully. You avoided his eye contact as you walked to your kitchen to get a drink of water. You heard the clicks of Blitz’s boots as he followed you.

As you filled your cup, you tried to think of what to say, but luckily, you wouldn’t have to.

“Can we talk?” 

“There’s nothing to talk about, Blitz,” you said as you moved past him to walk to your bedroom, “I don’t work for you anymore.”

“Christ on a stick (Y/N), can you stop being a bitch for 5 seconds,” Blitz told you as you set your water down on your nightstand.

“Get the fuck out of my room! No, out of my house,” you yelled, walking towards him, having half a mind to toss him out. 

“No, not until we fucking talk,” Blitz said as he closed your bedroom door and walked towards you.

“I’ve already said there’s nothing to talk about,” you yelled in exasperation.

“Fucking fine,” Blitz yelled back. 

You watched him turn to your door, hand on the handle. You were confused as to why he wasn’t leaving.

“Are you waiting for an invitation, Blitz!? Get the fuck out,” you began walking towards him again. 

“Fuck this shit,” you heard him mutter before he abruptly turned around.

You had no time to react before Blitz pulled you into him and kissed you hard. You let out a squeak of surprise, and Blitz used this to deepen the kiss. After the initial surprise, you began kissing back. The kiss was desperate, your teeth clashing and your pulse rising significantly.

You had no idea this was where the night would take you.

I hope that was fine! Please bear with me as I try to get used to Tumblr (and forgive any formatting errors)!

Also, please always let me know if I forgot to tag a warning!

[lucvly]

FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS ! — chris sturniolo. ♪

warnings › smut, lowkey sub!chris but not really, toxic dynamics between reader and chris if you squint. NOT PROOFREAD.

author’s note › hi i miss writing so i might spam post all my drafts ?? also i’m trying a new format w my posts so have mercy ! 🙏☹️ talk to me through my inbox i miss you guys So bad. — this is somehow the longest fic i’ve written ? the ending is sloppy Sorry i got lazy.

being friends with benefits with chris would be such an ordeal and such a chore, knowing that the same chris who held your head against the mattress as he rutted into you was also the same chris who barely even talked to you at friendly gatherings.

at first, you didn’t mind it– that was what you agreed upon after all, no in person contact, nothing that would give out the fact that you meet almost everyday. however, after a while of being on the down low, you started to feel somewhat neglected, though you knew you didn’t have the right to. you weren’t even together, so there was no reason for you to be questioning your place.

but oh, all that willpower crumbled when you saw the prettiest blonde indecently close to chris, laughing at every single word that came out of his mouth, her head seductively tilting to the side as she looked up at him, batting her eyelashes at him as her hand rubbed his shoulder innocently.

the grip on the red cup you were holding tightened, biting down on your lip, forcing yourself to look away and forget you even saw the whole scene that was right in front of your eyes.

you made your way towards the pool, almost managing to fully forget about him and the girl in front of him as you took small sips of whatever was in your drink. you didn’t even know what was in the small red cup, you just knew it had alcohol and that was more than enough knowledge.

the cool water was definitely a relief against your skin, instantly making you feel more at ease as you sighed pleasantly, and somehow you could feel a presence behind you, the water moving around to confirm your suspicions– then suddenly, a gentle tap on your shoulder, causing you to turn around and face who you were hoping you weren’t going to run into for the rest of the night.

“you gonna keep ignoring me the whole night?” his tone was playful, a half smile– almost a smirk spreading across his lips, and even though he was teasing, you knew he still meant every word.

“i could ask you the same thing,” you retorted, a slight venom to your voice he couldn’t quite put together or figure out. your eyebrows were raised in amusement, almost at the audacity of the question itself.

“okay attitude.” he teased once again, his eyebrows furrowing as he ever so slightly tilted his head to the side, indicating confusion and curiosity towards your tone. “what’s up?”

he made his way closer to you, his hands traveling to your hips, thumbs rubbing small and comforting circles into your skin. the water incorporating as he massaged the sides of your hips making it even better.

“you have fun with the blonde?” the question just slipped from your lips. you didn’t mean for it to sound as aggressive as it did, but you couldn’t help it, the scene was annoying– and overall just uncomfortable to watch.

“oh, that’s what this is about.” his lips curled into a smirk, his hands still resting on your hips. “jealous?”

“no, just curious.” you answered quickly, attempting to not show any sort of emotion aside from curiosity just to avoid feeding into his inflated ego.

“i’m kidding, she was just complimenting me, relax.” one of his hands left your waist and surfaced from the water, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “couldn’t stop staring at you,” his voice was soft, almost a whisper.

“yeah?” you whispered, your lips curling into a smirk as his hand went back to your waist, pulling your body closer to his, his eyes not so discreetly looking down at your lips, then back at your eyes.

“yeah.” he spoke under his breath before crashing his lips onto yours for a heated kiss, you could feel the neediness as your tongues fought for dominance, deciding to let him take over.

your arms snaked around his neck, pulling yourself even closer towards him as the kiss became needier, hungrier for each other. you slightly jumped as his hands now moved to your ass, helping your legs wrap around his waist.

you two never normally did this publicly, never even thought about it. it was always just between you two. sure, your friends had their suspicions, that’s why this situation of yours was always kept on the low.

you were suddenly pulled out from your thoughts, feeling his hard on against you, making you let out a small giggle into the kiss as one of your hands traveled down his chest painfully slowly, finally landing on his crotch, causing him to let out a soft groan, his hips uncontrollably bucking up slightly to meet your hand.

you could tell he was growing desperate, which just made it ten times more fun, your hand continuing to palm him through his swim trunks, the pleas he was letting out of his pretty mouth were almost music to your ears.

“shit– keep going,” he whispered, his voice soft and needy, his hips still gently bucking up into your hand as he slightly threw his head back, his mouth open agape.

you complied to his request, this time now slipping your hand into his trunks, stroking him directly with a bit more speed. you could tell he was close– his breaths were heavy and unsteady, and he was bucking into your hand more desperately than before.

“i’m so close– fuck,” he panted out, his breathing was heavy, his eyes glossy as he focused on your every stroke and small movement, when all of the sudden– he was pulled out of the blissful trance, your movements completely stopping.

“seriously?” it came out as a soft whine and almost– barely, a choked sob. you let out a small chuckle, placing a quick kiss to his lips and pulling away.

“go tell the blonde to get you off,” you joked, a smirk on your face as you moved towards the stairway to exit the pool, feeling chris chase you around like a lost puppy.

“you’re insufferable. i’m not putting up with this anymore, come on.” his voice suddenly shifted, grabbing your hand and pulling you to follow him. you could tell he was fed up– what he didn’t know is that this was your plan all along, and he walked right into it.