#if you´d like to do this please feel free to just snatch it up from me and tag me!!!!

[bed-chemist]

Smoking 🍃 with vinnie smut cause he’s so pookie bear (make it rough too please 💀💀)

❝FMB❞ - vinnie hacker x reader

─⋆♡ an: based on this ask. FMB means f⋆ck me back. hopefully it's rough enough. this is my first smut post so i didn't want to make it too too rough, just fyi. unedited so ignore any mistakes. i hope yall enjoy. ★ ˙ᵕ˙ liv

─⋆♡ summary: you and vinnie have a complex relationship. it all comes to a head when you become bold enough to confront him post-blunt.

─⋆♡ warnings: overstimulation, softdom!vinnie, smut, fluff towards the end, tiny bit of angst, 18+ black!writer, language, alcohol, drugs, D!NC, physical descriptors (brief), choking, spitting, slight exhibitionism if you squint, claiming, rough smut, squirting, anal play, unprotected sex (i do not condone irl, wrap before you tap).

⋆word count: 3.9k ⋆ masterlist ⋆

The loud bass of music floats in the background as I tap through Snapchat stories on my phone. The couch next to me dips and when I turn, I see Vinnie has joined me.

He doesn’t speak to me before pulling out a blunt and sparking it. As is, me and Vinnie’s relationship was complicated. We started off as friends, then smoke buddies. But the more we smoked together, the more we felt for each other. Or at least, I fell for him.

We had kissed and made out, but we’ve never had sex. After a few dates, I was becoming restless. The frustration of his mixed signals got the best of me. Now in the darkness of the crowded room, I’ve become bold enough to confront him.

I watch him as he inhales and exhales the smoke like a chimney. He seemingly notices my intense stare and stops. “Did you need something?” he asks with an attitude.

You can practically feel steam whistling out of your ears from how fuming your brain is right now. “Yeah actually. Give that to me,” I snap, pointing at his blunt.

He shrugs, ashing the blunt on the coffee table. “Okay,” he concedes, passing me the joint.

Letting the smoke dance in my lungs, I choke it out slowly. Now that the weed is hitting, I decide now is the time. “Vinnie, are you still interested in me?” I ask him abruptly.

He chuckles and takes the blunt from me. “Oh, baby. Of course I fucking am. Why would you even ask me that?” he shoots back with an eyebrow raised.

Frowning, I pick at my cuticles out of nervousness. “Because we go on dates, we kiss, but we’ve never had sex. I just don’t know what you want any more,” I confess, standing from the couch in a huff. 

Of course, I want to take things further. But I’m not sure if he wants me anymore when he barely touches me.

He stops me from moving any further, tugging my hand. I grudgingly turn around, looking down at him. “Because, doll. We haven’t had the sex talk yet,” he discloses, rubbing his free hand up and down my thigh.

I roll my eyes and scoff, snatching the blunt out of his hands to take a hit. He places his hands on my hips, watching me intensely. “What do you mean by ‘sex talk’? I’m not 5,” I ask after blowing out a toke.

He stands until he’s staggering high towers over me. “I mean…” he pushes lightly, backing me into the wall so I’m trapped between his body and the drywall. “I want to know what you like, what you don’t like, and what you’ll beg for before I feel you cumming on my cock,” he whispers in my ear, licking a stripe up my neck afterward. 

My head tips back in a moan, which makes him as hard as a rock. “Fuck, baby. Do you see what you do to me? I want nothing more than to make you feel good, in the best way that I can, for the rest of my life.” he presses his body into mine, slowly kissing up my neck.

One of the partiers comes up behind Vinnie and taps him on the shoulder. He ignores them, waving them off with the rest of the blunt. His hand moves to the inside of my thigh and he rubs me so close that I know he can feel the inside of my legs shake. “Should I take care of you right here?” he bites my neck, and I whimper, pulling his hair.

Vinnie pulls back from me, piercing a hole into my eyes. “Please?” I beg, gnawing on my lip.

He uses the other hand and wraps it around my throat, effectively restricting my breathing. He tilts my head to the side. “Do you think you deserve it?” he whispers against my lips with his eyebrow raised. 

Struggling, I lightly nod my head in his firm grip. “Yes, Vinnie,” I squeak out, and he gives me one last squeeze on the throat before grabbing my wrist and yanking me through the crowd.

Bodies brush past me as Vinnie drags me up the steps to his room. “Wait, where are we going?” I ask, confused. He just asked if I needed to be taken care of right there and then... I did say yes.

“You think I’m gonna let everyone watch me fuck you?” he scoffs.

Once we got the sex talk out of the way, Vinnie makes quick work to get me undressed. I moan into the darkness of the room as Vinnie leaves love bites down my neck, only breaking the contact to lift my tank top over my head. He pauses his movements to take in the black lacy bralette I'm wearing. “Fuck, baby. You don’t know what you do to me,” he groans, then smashes his lips back onto mine. 

He slams me against his closed bedroom door before slowly dropping down onto his knees. Watching him sink to the ground has an involuntary giggle leaving my lips. “Vinnie, I didn’t think you were going to actually-” he cuts me off, spinning me around so my ass is facing him.

Suddenly, an echoing smack verberates off the walls and my ass cheeks are on fire. Yelping, I sink my teeth into my bottom lips, trying to muffle the noise I’m making.

He slowly inches his hands up my legs until my skirt is fully pushed up to my stomach. His fingers meet my panties, and he runs my fingers over them, seemingly savoring every last moment. “Did you wear these for me, sunshine?” He hooks one finger under one side, pulling it back and making the elastic snap around my hips.

I reach out to support myself on anything to keep my knees from buckling. “No,” I joke, and he bends my knees a bit.

He rubs calming circles into the back of my thighs with his thumbs. “Don’t need you collapsing on my baby,” he informs me.

Taking both sides in his hands, he rips the fabric in half and shreds it off my body like paper. “Shame. I would’ve let you keep them.” 

Gasping, I look down and watch them fall to the ground. He palms my ass, spreading my cheeks further apart. “Bend over just a little bit more, baby,” he instruct, kissing my ass on both sides. 

Slowly shifting in his grasp, I whine as I bend over. I’m desperate for him, all over me. Filling every hole over and over again until I’m screaming for help.

He hovers his mouth over my pussy. “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he praises me, running his pointer finger up and down my folds to collect my wetness.

“Let me tell you something, sunshine,” he grumbles, rubbing his fingers in circles on my puffy, swollen nub. “There's absolutely nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Do you understand?” he looks up at me, awaiting my response.

Unable to focus, I just nod my head.

“You have to use your words, baby.” he instantly retracts his fingers from my clit bringing them into his mouth. With a pop, he pulls them out, moaning at the taste of my arousal.

I groan, throwing my head back in frustration. “Yes, I know. Just please take care of me, Vinnie,” I practically beg for the second time tonight.

He returns his fingers to my pussy, slowly rubbing around my entrance. “If you asked me to shoot myself, I would,” he growls, slowly sinking his fingers into me. Curling them downwards on every thrust, his fingers search for that spongy spot. He pulls out and thrusts into me again, and my breath quickens. “If you asked me to slit my wrists, I would.” Quickening his pace, my moans echo through the large bedroom. “You gotta stay quiet, baby. I wanna be the only one to hear those pretty moans.” 

He uses his free hand, bringing it up to my clit, rubbing fast circles on my sensitive bud. His fingers are thrusting into me at such an intense rate that I feel the world collapsing beneath me. My pussy contracts around his fingers and he groans deeply, sending a shiver up my spine. “Fuck yourself on my fingers, sunshine,” he commands, hitting my sweet spot. 

I mewl, obeying his commands, and begin rocking back into him. My orgasm starts approaching rapidly, his fingers drive into me at an unrelenting pace. When my walls flutter, he instantly slows his pace. “Not yet, baby. You can’t cum until you’re quiet.”  

Crying again, I bring my hand up to muffle the sound successfully. He applies more pressure on the quick circles he’s drawing on my clit. I arch my back again until I’m moving with his fingers just as he requested. I moan loudly, the coil in my stomach about to snap. 

He blows a quick shot of air onto my exposed clit, the chill making the coil snap. My vision turns white as I quietly moan out, "Fuck, Vinn.”

“That’s it, sunshine. Cum for me, let go,” he murmurs underneath me, and I can feel the lust dripping off his tongue as my orgasm rocks through me. The pace of his fingers doesn’t slow as he works me through my orgasm, and I hear my nails scratch against the drywall. My legs quake and my back arches slightly, my mouth opening in a silent moan. 

He slows his thrusting and pulls out of me, rising to his feet. He turns me around to face him, his eyes taking in the fucked out expression on my face. “You wanna know how good you taste, baby?” Grabbing my chin, he rubs his thumb over my bottom lip.

I close my eyes, trying to catch my breath and lean back into the wall. “Yes,” I whisper, and as soon as the words leave my lips, his fingers sink into my mouth. Deciding to tease him, I swirl my tongue around his digits, imagining my tongue on his cock. His fingers push back further into my throat until I gag a little, then he pulls them out. Fucking hope he’s impressed that I can take them that far without coughing.

Without another thought, I smash my lips against his, savoring the taste of my orgasm on his tongue. “God, you taste so fucking good. I could eat you forever,” he growls, moving my body back onto the bed.

He crawls on top of me and his bulge is pressed into me once again. “Vinnie, please. I need you.” I whimper into his mouth as my shaky fingers move to slowly unbutton his shirt. 

But he grabs my wrists, stopping me. “I got it, sunshine,” he laughs, then makes quick work to remove his shirt. 

I shamelessly watch as he slowly strips out of his pants and his boxers. Even though I’ve seen him naked in front of me before, he’s never fully been hard. His dick is beautiful. His swollen head is already dripping with precum, making him look good enough to deep throat. 

Vinnie slowly climbs back onto the bed and my eyes widen, realizing what’s about to happen. My breathing quickens in anticipation as he comes down to kiss me hard and deep. 

I moan into him, but my hands move to his chest to push him back as I look down, suddenly scared. “It’s too big, I don’t think it’ll fit,” I insist, crawling away from him.

He grabs my ankles, pulling me back down. “We’re gonna make it fit, baby,” he retorts, his eyes dark. 

The tip of his dick moves back and forth in between my folds, collecting wetness. I whimper, squeezing his shoulders. 

“Hey, sunshine. Look at me.” He grabs my chin until I make eye contact with him. “We can stop if you want to stop. I won't go any further,” he reassures, resting his forehead on mine.

I immediately shake my head, inhaling a sharp breath. “No, I want this–I want you. Just be careful, please.” I pull him into me for a heated kiss and tug his hair, making him groan and deepen the kiss. 

Finally, he pulls back and lines himself up near my entrance, spitting and letting the dribble collect on his base. “This is gonna hurt, so just relax for me, baby.” My legs are pushed open a little wider. 

I nod, trying to calm myself, and he laces his fingers in mine before he moves. The tip of his shaft pushes in, and I gasp at the stretch. “Shit, Vinnie,” I cry out, squeezing his hands until my knuckles turn white. Tears prick at the corner of my eyes, the burn from his girth sends fire into my core. 

Immediately, he stops moving, looking into my eyes. “Do you want me to stop? I’ll stop,” he groans out. 

I bite my lip, shaking my head no. 

He kisses the corner of my eyes and whispers, “Okay, just relax for me, sunshine. I’ll try to make this quick.” He continues to sink slowly into me, bottoming out, and I wince again. To allow me to adjust to his length, he pauses his movements. “You’re squeezing me so tight. Fuck, I’m not gonna last long,” he breathes, bending down to kiss my neck. And then, he slowly starts rocking into me and the burn is replaced with a familiar warmth. 

“Oh, god. Vinnie,” I moan, releasing his hands to claw at his back for support. 

He’s hitting the perfect spot already, and he just got inside me. He continues to slowly push in and out of me, allowing me to savor the feeling of him inside me. I moan, biting on his shoulder. 

“More.” My legs are already shaking. “Give me more,” I demand, kissing up to his ear.

Pulling back, he looks at me. “Are you sure?” His hand strokes my curls.

I pull him down into a kiss, allowing my tongue to explore his mouth once more. “Yes, please. Use me, fuck me,” I beg, squirming underneath him.

Vinnie fists the sheets below my head and adjusts his position. I brace myself. “The safe word is ‘moon’, Sunshine. Use it if you need it.” He kisses my neck once more and begins driving into me at a steady, even rate. The tip of his length kisses my g-spot with each stroke. “Fuccckkkk,” he growls into my ear, and I feel myself squeezing him when the words hit my eardrums. 

“Vinnie,” I moan. 

The only sound outside of our pants and moans is the sound of his skin slapping against mine as he fucks me. He wraps his tattooed hand around my throat, leaning in for a kiss. And as if I wasn't already in heaven, he brings his fingers down to rub quick circles on my clit. 

“I’m gonna cum, doll. But I need to feel you squeezing me before I do,” he commands, and I cry as I arch into him. 

He pounds into me steadily, rocking my body into the bed. Each stroke pushes me closer and closer over the edge until I feel myself contracting around him. 

“Cum with me, sunshine,” he whispers against my lips, and it sends me over the edge. 

Arching my back and screaming, I claw at his back and bite his shoulder as my orgasm hits me like a train. Just when I thought he couldn’t get any deeper, he lifts my hips slightly. 

“Where do you want me to cum, love?” His dick kisses my cervix, and I know I’ll be bruised tomorrow. But I can’t bring myself to give a shit right now. 

He twitches inside me, and I lick a stripe up his neck. “Cum in me, Vinnie,” I whimper, and he growls into my neck. 

His seed spills inside me, his strokes becoming uneven. I moan at the feeling, and squeeze around him, milking out every drop of his cum as he paints my walls. It fills me up and I’ve never felt better after sex. 

He stills inside me, kissing me breathlessly, and takes a few moments to catch his breath. Before he pulls out, I wrap my arms around him, causing him to bury further inside me. “Stay,” I plead, tears threatening to spill over in my eyes.

He softly strokes my hair, wrapping his arm around me and slowly flipping us over so I’m on top. “Okay, sunshine. I got you. Fuck, that was the fastest I’ve ever cum before in my life,” 

Like I requested, he doesn’t pull out. Just pulls me closer into his body until I’m melting into the beautiful tattoos on his chest. His fingers begin tracing light patterns across my back. 

I sniffle, looking up at him with a small smile on my face, and he looks at me. “You okay, sunshine?” he asks, and I shift on his length a little bit. 

Sitting up to put my hands on his chest, I feel his dick twitching and growing inside me. “Yeah. Let's go again,” I giggle, bending down to kiss him. It surprises me how he’s already ready for round two, but I don’t complain. 

He groans into my mouth, wrapping his decorated arms around my waist. Slowly, I lift myself until I feel his tip threatening to slip out. I slide back down onto him, filling myself completely and moaning at the change of position. 

His hands tighten around my waist, helping me swirl my hips around. “I want you to know you’re mine, sunshine,” he groans, reaching up to play with my nipples as I moan at the feeling of him stretching me from this angle. 

I pick up my pace, bouncing on his dick until he’s hitting my perfect spot over and over again. My legs shake, and I feel my third orgasm approaching rapidly. My hand moves to his neck, squeezing it hard. I feel so fucking powerful, making myself cum with his length. 

Vinnie looks up at me with amazement in his eyes and slides his thumb in between us to apply pressure on my clit. I throw my head back and moan, still choking him. “God. You look so pretty when you moan.” 

The pace of his thumb quickens, and I topple over the edge, crashing into my third orgasm with a loud cry. I release my hand on his neck, falling forward. Vinnie removes his hand from my clit to catch me and keep from coming down on his body. He allows me to rest on his chest as he starts to fuck up into me, elongating my orgasm. 

“Vinnie,” I choke out, and my voice bounces off his walls. 

He picks up his pace, driving into me from below. “That’s it, doll. Scream my name. Let the world know who fucking owns you.” 

He pounds my body into his, and I grip his shoulders when I feel a tingling sensation on my clit. Wetness suddenly shoots out from between my legs, running down my thighs and covering his stomach. My whole body quakes, but he doesn’t slow down. 

“Fuck, sunshine. Look at the mess you made, cumming all over me.” 

My brain is on a different planet as he slows down, allowing me to glance down at the soaked sheets. He slowly pulls me off him and I wince, falling backward onto the bed. Then, Vinnie moves me so I’m laying on my side, out of the wet spot, before slowly pushing back into me, spooning me, and caressing my hair. “No one will ever fuck you ever again, for the rest of your life but me. Do you understand?” 

Slamming into me at an unrelenting pace, he bites my neck. His hand wraps around my throat, applying a bit of pressure. Every thrust sends me closer to the edge, and the only thing I register is him kissing the back of my neck. I’m so fucked, I can’t speak. I can’t think. 

“Yes,” I babble out, arching my back into him. 

All I feel is pure bliss. The room is spinning, and I feel another orgasm rapidly approaching. He nibbles a love bite into my neck, hitting my G-spot over and over again. My thighs are lifted a little higher until I see white. “Cum for me again, Sunshine. You feel so good when you squeeze me,” he mumbles into my neck.

I shake my head, and gripping his forearm that chokes me. “I can’t,” I cry, looking at the view from his room— everything is spinning. 

Vinnie increases his pace, slamming into me. “You can, and you will,” he snarls in my ear. 

I feel the tears spilling over in my eyes as he applies more pressure on my throat. The overstimulation of his dick drilling into me repeatedly sends me toppling over another edge, and I wail his name, feeling my soul leave my body. Everything feels fuzzy as his thrusts become sloppy before he lets out an animalistic grunt. I feel his dick twitch, then, shooting hot ropes into me. The heat of it makes me feel like I’m going to pass out, and I moan at the sensation. He continues to slowly thrust into me, riding out both of our orgasms. 

After we’re both spent, he buries himself deep inside me, stroking my hair and peppering kisses on my shoulder as I come down from my high. “You did so well for me, Sunshine. Fucking fantastic,” he praises.

He slowly caresses my hips as my body shakes against his. I wince as he slowly pulls out and scoots down to the bottom of the bed. Spreading my legs wide open, he watches our cum leak out of me. My swollen pussy contracts around nothing, pushing his seed out, and I hear him groan. 

He brings his fingers up to my entrance and I wince. “Shhh, Sunshine, I’m just making sure we don’t waste a drop,” he coos, stuffing his fingers into me and massaging my g-spot. 

An inevitable moan leaves my lips I arch my back to get closer to him. “You want to cum again?” He asks before leaning over to flick his tongue over her my. Crying out at the overstimulation, I shake my head. 

“Too bad, baby.” he quickly thrusts into me with his fingers, moaning at the taste of our orgasms mixing. His tongue flicks over my swollen, puffy clit. I haven’t used our safe word, and I know he’s going to keep pushing me until I say it.

Vinnie removes his tongue from my clit and he uses his other hand to collect our orgasms on his finger. The pace of his fingers slows and he begins rubbing a circle around my tight hole. He slowly pushes his finger into my ass, fucking me with both hands. 

I’m unable to control my movements as I thrash underneath him. His finders drive in and out, reaching the most delicious spot. 

“Give me one last one, Sunshine. I promise I’ll let you stop after,” he orders, and I move my hands to his hair to tug on it.

He pushes his finger further into my ass, curling it a bit more, and I snap. Neglecting his noise warning, my screams and my moans erupt through the room. He moans as he works both of my holes through what I assume is my last orgasm. 

As finally comes down, I whimper, “Moon,” and he stops and slowly pulls his fingers out, satisfied with my overstimulation. 

He crawls up my body, grabbing my face so I'm forced to look at him. “You're everything to me–perfect and mine,” he mumbles into my mouth and I wipe away the tears in my eyes. 

My brain buzzes with post-sex high. “Only for you,” I whisper into the night.

I did so well, and I am his.

[oddsconvert]

Shattered #10 - Happy Birthday, August! Part II

Previous / Masterlist / Next

CW: kidnapped whumpee, captivity (kinda), defiant whumpee, whumpee thinks caretaker is a whumper, forced to kidnap references, vampire caretaker, unwilling whumper, forced to be whumper, ALOT of self-loathing and fucky thoughts and guilt and all of it, weapons, adult language, mentions of blood, brief mention of vomit/nausea, reference to toxic/abusive family dynamic (if I've missed any, please let me know! <3)

Part two! A long time coming! The final part should drop in the next few days/this week! :D thank you to the amazing @whumpcereal for her AMAZING beta on this 🥺🫶

---

August has always dreamt of cake on his birthday, the warm scent of sugar and butter taunting his vampiric senses like forbidden fruit. The cake would be chocolate, of course. Every human loves chocolate; it must be the tastiest thing on Earth. This year, there would have been one hundred and thirty candles, barely fitting on top of it. And August could blow them all out and make his birthday wish. Just like the humans do.

But if the flickering flames on his imaginary cake could really grant his wishes, he wouldn’t wish for chocolate. With a single puff of breath, he’d wish to rewind time and erase this horrific day out of existence. Or, perhaps, he’d wish for a clean slate - a life free from the regret that eats him alive. But above all, he would wish to finally be happy - whatever that means. But where does August get the gall to wish for his own happiness when he is the catalyst of another’s misery? 

He stole a human being tonight. He crept through the streets, snatched them from where they slept and locked them away. He’d lurked in the shadows and all, like a true monster. As far as the human is aware, they saw the stars for the last time this eve and they’ll never feel fresh air stream through their lungs again. August could see it the moment their eyes first locked - the human feared the blood coursing through his own veins was his no longer, that he had become nothing more than food.

No, if August had birthday candles, he should be wishing for the human’s pain to stop, not his own. He should pray for any memories of this miserable night to fade away, and for the human to feel nothing but warmth and safety for the rest of his days. How dare August make this about himself?

How dare August call himself a doctor?

Really, if August is anything other than a feral creature, he is a coward. He can’t find a drop of courage in his selfish core to face the human. Of course not. That would mean facing up to what he has done to the human.

Instead, August kneels in the bathroom, and he hugs the toilet bowl tight in his arms. He sputters and heaves as spit dribbles from his lips. It’s a battle against wave after wave of never-ending nausea. August is sickened by himself. Repulsed by the cruelty that he and his kind are capable of. Even if he earned his family’s stamp of approval tonight - something he’s always dreamed of and strived for - it wasn’t worth it. Not one bit. He refuses to hurt, abuse and sacrifice an innocent life for a scrap of their regard. Curse their prideful smiles and damn their hollow praise.

CRASH! Shattering glass pierces through the silence in-between retches. August’s heart leaps up into his throat, and his gut clenches.

His human is awake - no! August shakes that insidious thought from his head. Not his, and never his. The human does not belong to him. 

August wills the ground to open up and swallow him whole. The thought of skulking down to that basement with his tail between his legs and shame swelling in his chest - it turns his already churning stomach with bubbles of dread. Still, he must. He peels himself from the bathroom floor, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and makes his way downstairs to greet his guest. There’s not a second spare to wallow and drown in self-pity.

He grips the stair bannister for dear life, his knees threatening to buckle beneath him. Still, he forces his dragging feet to move one step at a time down to the basement. There’s no backing out of this, no turning and running now. August needs to face the music–or face his victim, rather. He must fix what he’s done to this poor human.

There is the sound of a jarring crash, and then another dull thud resonates from behind the locked basement door. August’s shaking hands fumble to fit the key in the lock. With a click, the door opens, and he cautiously descends into the dimly lit basement, every footstep echoing in the sudden, eerie silence.

That is until he hears the human’s heart. It pounds like a war-drum in August’s ears, each beat louder and more erratic. August flicks the light switch, and as the basement floods with light, he freezes on the spot, beyond horrified at the scene before him.

His life's work, decades of dedication, lay in ruins. His surgery looks like the aftermath of an explosion. All the furniture is flipped over, and shards of shattered glass sparkle across the floor like jewels amongst the blitz. Charts and graphs once meticulously hung on the wall now dangle in tatters, their scientific data reduced to meaningless scraps. His medicinal cabinets have been ransacked; trails of viscous liquid snake across the concrete floor from countless broken vials. The air is thick with the acrid smell of chemicals.

And there, behind his masterpiece of destruction, cowers the human, pressed flat against the farthest wall, a scalpel gripped in trembling hands held out before him. Its sharp tip is pointed in August’s direction, glistening against the surgery's harsh strip lights.

August has seen fear in human eyes more times than he can possibly count, but he has never seen fear like this. The human’s eyes burn with such primal terror that they touch the very core of August’s being. In the man’s eyes, August sees his own fear, his own isolation and his own despair. But August stays there, unable to look away no matter how it hurts him. He is trapped in this man’s stare, lost in a labyrinth of his own reflections.

But August feels something else too. A raw and untamed emotion. Rage. All-consuming anger that makes goosebumps prickle down the vampire’s pale skin. Rage courses through the human’s veins like a river of molten lava.

“You stay the hell back!” the human roars until his voice wavers and wobbles. He swings the scalpel into the empty space between them, stabbing at the air. “Don’t you dare come near me!”

August’s hands fly up in surrender. Words escape him. What could he possibly say to make this right? Where does he even start? Surely nothing he could say could do justice to his regret.

“I’m sorry-”

That’s the first thing that blurts out of August’s pathetic mouth. Because it is the only and the most sincere thought that comes to him. As though his apology could ever mend the damage or heal the pain he’s caused tonight.

August is shaking now. He can’t stop. His palm slams against his mouth as he chokes back a guilt-warbled cry. “I’m - so…I’m SO sorry. I - I don’t - I…I -I never. I didn’t want to hurt you. I - I won’t hurt you! I don’t want this. Please - y-you have to believe me. You’re safe here-”

August moves without thinking, over the rubble and glass shards. He moves barely an inch closer, and the human erupts into panic. Like a great cat, the human swiftly pounces and flips the table in front of him to form a barricade, stopping August dead in his tracks. Surgical instruments clatter about, and yet more glass scatters across the cement floor. 

“I SAID STAY BACK!” the human brays like a feral animal. His chest heaves dramatically as his lungs seem to fight for breath, and he takes an unsteady step back to create even more distance between them. Gingerly, he cradles his hand, still clutching the scalpel. A gasp escapes his lips as crimson wells from a sudden gash. The tang of iron hits August’s nostrils, drool coats his tongue and his fangs tingle, ready to feed. He wrestles with his animalistic instincts and pushes back the unwanted and primal hunger that threatens to take over. He knows he doesn’t want it, but his body thinks he needs it.

The human had hurt himself in his own destructive frenzy. August can’t help but feel responsible for that too. But that doesn’t seem to deter the human, in fact, it fuels him. He launches himself at the countertops. In one fluid motion, sweeping his arms  across the surfaces, clearing it of every single object in a deafening cascade that shatters across the floor.

“HUMAN! PLEASE STOP!”

The human doesn’t speak, but a slow, cold anger radiates off him. Brows slam together, his jaw clenches until the muscles stand out starkly. A single word, each syllable dripping with disdain, finally leaves his lips:  "'Human'?"

August immediately realises his mistake. Guilt eats him from the inside out. You utter barbarian; he scolds himself.

“I have a name, you know!” The human snaps incredulously, bloody hands curling into fists.

“Of course, of course! Just…” August breathes, “What is your name?”

“Why the fuck would I tell you?!”

The bookshelves are the human’s next victim. He doesn’t bother pulling or ripping at them; he just bulldozes them with a barge of his shoulder. The shelves topple with a cacophony of splintering wood and flapping pages. His gaze is already fixed on his next target: a framed diploma hanging on the wall, defying the human’s rampage.

“Wait, no! P-Please, not that!” August begs, hands clasped together in supplication. The diploma represents his proudest achievement, everything that he’s worked so hard for. It is the only proof August has that there may be good in him somewhere. “Please! Don’t destroy anything else! I just need you to hear me out!”

“Open the door and let me walk out, vamp,” the human scowls, glossing over August’s pleas. “Or do I have to go through you?”

August swallows hard, the human’s casual threat sending a fresh wave of terror through him. He doesn’t doubt the human’s raw strength or willpower for even a second. The destroyed furniture and the fiery defiance in his eyes promise more violence. A heavy silence stretches between them, thick with tension.

“I - I want to help you - please just let me explain all of this-”

The human slams his fist into the nearest wall, a crater of dust left in its wake. August flinches into himself. Then, the man lets out a sound that no soul should ever have to hear. It’s a keening cry - a grieving wail for the life he fears he has lost. It rocks August to his core. It’s bloodcurdling. 

“Why’d you choose me, huh?!” The human seethes, damn near foaming at the mouth. “Is it because I sleep rough on the streets? Is that it? Because my life is so fucking expendable?!”

Then, it’s as if a dam has burst. The human’s face just crumples as a choked sob croaks from his lips, barely even audible. Slowly, he slides down against the wall. Head in hands, shoulders slumped, any bravado completely drained from his posture. 

“You knew no-one would come for me… didn’t you?” The human manages a whisper, his head hung low in defeat. Words just seem to keep failing August time and time again, he can only watch miserably and quietly. 

“DIDN’T YOU?!” the human bellows, eyes bloodshot and wild as his head shoots up. August flinches at the outburst.

“What gives you the right to play god?! What makes my life worth any less than yours, or any other person you could have plucked from the damn street. It was a shitty life. But it was my life! There was nothing left to take from me, and you took it all anyway. You’re a… you’re a parasite.”

August bites his lips and nods, a silent, pathetic apology. He is a parasite. Every word burns like a red-hot fire poker but he knows he deserves every scorch. Scarlet-shame colours his cheeks. Monster, parasite, animal - he’s all of the above.

“I won’t stop fighting you,” the human huffs through tears of fury. “I won't stop until I kill you, even if it kills me. You're right. I have nothing, and no-one. Nothing to lose but everything to gain. So if I’m going to go down, I'm going down swinging. Do your worst…leech.”

Leech.

August has always thought of himself as a healer. A protector. It is here, in this moment, he finally realises he is nothing more than the predator he was born to be. Afterall, there is no denying what he has done. He did take the human, he took away everything the human had to take.  He, too, sinks to the floor in devastation, landing heavily in a cross-legged slump opposite the tear-streaked human. 

Worst birthday ever.

August is drained and depleted, but he won’t waste any more breath on defending himself; he isn’t worthy of any defence. But the very least he can do is comfort the human - help him to weather the storm and be the anchor he needs right now.

“You can keep the scalpel,” August sniffles, “if it gives you some comfort. If it helps you to feel safe.” It’s an impotent gesture. A scalpel would be useless against him in combat if it really did come to that, but hopefully the human can see the sentiment behind the offer. “All I ask is for a minute of your time, and I promise, I will explain everything to you.”

The human stares at the scalpel in his hand and then locks eyes with August’s in a silent duel. No accusation, no defiance this time - only a deep well of desperate inquiry burning in their depths. A million silent questions hang in the air. He begrudgingly nods for August to go on.

“I will take you home tomorrow morning. I swear it. I wish I could open the front door for you and let you stroll free and wave you off into the world, but we’re deep in vampire territory right now. You wouldn’t last five minutes out here on your own. You’ll be snatched back up in a heartbeat, and by a creature less...inviting than myself. We will go after sunrise tomorrow and not a minute later, you have my word.”

“Your word,” the human spits, “Your word means jack all to me.”

“Then let me prove that I am who I say I am - a man of my word. Let me show you to a bed for tonight. Let me give you food and water, and a pillow to rest your head. And then I will leave you be, to get all the sleep you want and need, and I will keep to myself. The next time you see me, it will be to make our journey back to human territory.”

“...Why should I trust you?”

“I’m not asking for your trust.” Heaven knows August doesn’t deserve it, could never earn it. “I’m asking, from the bottom of my heart, for your leniency. You could, and probably should, drive a stake through my chest for what I’ve put you through. I cannot say I would blame you, if you did. But…why don’t we both survive the night, and come tomorrow we go our separate ways?”

Relief floods in as the human seems to reluctantly ponder the deal. It’s just a night. They just need to make it through the night, and then they can both go back to their separate lives and try to forget each other's faces. The human must realise that too, because his boiling anger seems to simmer down. August rises to his feet and slowly moves across the room to extend a helping hand. The human only grunts his curt refusal and snubs the offer, forcing himself up off the cold and unforgiving ground. 

“Spare bedroom. First floor. It’s all yours for the night. I’ll show you to it.” August nervously beckons the human over as he heads towards the basement door. The man sluggishly follows behind, keeping a distance that feels like miles. August feels distrustful eyes burning into the back of his head. He half expects to feel the scalpel pierce his spine any second.

But it doesn’t. As August leads the way upstairs, their unified steps echo strangely in the emptiness of the house. With each turn, the sheer scale of this place, his home, hits August anew. In the company of this poor stranger he’s pulled from the grime of the street, the house feels absurdly oversized. Every step reveals yet another opulent space – a bathroom, a bedroom, a study, a library, another bathroom.  August marches him through this excessive display of wealth with a sinking heart. Does he truly need all this, especially when the man trailing behind him apparently doesn’t have a penny to his name or a roof over his head?

August pauses before what is now the third bedroom door they’ve come across, this one already ajar. Inside, the air is stuffy and still, as though the room hasn’t been disturbed in decades, and it hasn’t; it is  untouched and unslept in. A sliver of moonlight creeps through the drawn curtains and slices across the four-poster bed. 

“This is yours,” he motions the human through the doorway, “for the night-” he quickly repeats. He chooses every word with due care and diligence, to reaffirm that this situation is by no means permanent.

Hesitantly, the human steps inside. His eyes flit across the ornately carved furniture and over thick layers of dust. August takes his moment to disappear down the hallway, returning minutes later with a tray holding a jug of water, a glass and a bowl of steaming chicken soup - he was lucky to find the tin of it at the very back of his cupboard. A strained smile tugs at August’s lips as he sets it down on the nightstand. 

Again, the human recoils from him, pressing himself into the corner of the room.

“I’ll go now, okay? I-I hope you can get a good night's sleep. If you need me, for anything, my bedroom is on the very end of the hall, on the left”.

“I won’t need you,” the human scoffs. “Go. Leave.”

The rebuff curdles August’s smile, his lips twitch nervously. “As you wish…” he mutters, stalking towards the door with defeat. Hand on the doorknob, he pauses, “My name is August, by the way. Could I please at least know your name, too?”

Rooted to the spot, the human squares his broad shoulders, a challenge radiating from his posture. “Names are sacred, leech,” he declares, teeth gritting together. “I plan to keep that secret for as long as I can keep my mind.”

The human’s words strike August like a physical blow. The air whooshes from his lungs, deflating him like a pricked balloon. Regret, sharp and bitter, settles in his chest. He can’t stay a second longer, not with the humiliating spark of unshed tears threatening to spill. His family is right, he’s a weak and pathetic excuse for a vampire. With a twist of the doorknob, he flees down the hall to his bedroom. He collapses onto his bed and buries his face in the pillow.

— 

For the human, however, sleep will be a stranger tonight. Any last vestige of drowsiness flees as the vampire vanishes. Sleep just isn’t in the cards. He has to hold out until dawn. He scrambles for anything he can get his hands on to barricade the door. It’s his first line of defence overnight;it will give him a fighting chance and an advantage over the creature.

The heavy dresser groans in protest as he drags it across the room to block the door, scratching and scraping the floorboards along its path. He doesn’t think twice about the damage, if the vamp gets to destroy his life, then he gets to destroy it’s property. Then the rickety chair and the desk it sits at gets pushed into the barricade. And the bedside tables, the bookcase too. Finally, his gaze falls on the bed and its sturdy oak bedposts. He pulls his scalpel from his pocket and digs his scalpel into the wood, feverishly wedging a chunk out of it with all the strength he has left. Shavings rain down as he whittles it down to a sharpened point. Slapdash, but a stake nonetheless.

Every creek of the settling house, every rustle in the wind sets the human’s teeth on edge. He crawls into the bed and slips under the blankets. He’s pleasantly surprised at how soft they are, and how the mattress feels like he’s floating on a cloud and how warmth seems to instantly envelop his fatigued body. He’s not felt this much comfort in…in, well, years.

But he can’t afford to let his weary eyes slip shut. He stays watching the door like a hawk from his bed, his staked clutched close to his beating chest.

Morning can’t come quick enough.

*!*!*!*!*

Dawn finds the human bleary-eyed but alert. His crafted weapon is still clutched tightly in his palms as he half-stares and blinks drearily at the barricaded door, as ready and poised to attack as he can be. Moonlight has dwindled and now sunlight beams through the velvet curtains instead. He leaps up, rips the curtains open and basks in the sun’s kiss. It’s something he thought he’d never feel again,

He survived the night. It’s nothing short of a miracle. A silent thank you rises in his throat as a single tear slips from his eye. Someone, he thinks, has to be watching over him. His parents, he hopes. There’s no way he would have made it through this without them.

Now the vampire just has to hold true to his promise. If his word holds any weight, the human will be back in human territory before dusk. Yet, the whole situation defies any logic. The human can’t wrap his head around the absurdity of it all. Why would a vampire snatch him, just to return him by nightfall, less than twenty four hours later? He can’t fight the feeling that a deeper motive lurks beneath the surface, a sinister plan at play. Suspicion clings to the human like cobwebs. Beyond the hospitality and kindness… the vampire has to be up to something.

The human dismantles his barricade and heads out to go downstairs. Every fibre of his being screams ‘it’s a trap!’...but the human can’t deny the smallest sliver of hope in his chest, piercing his bubble of suspicion. The vampire had kept true to its word so far, it had left him alone and untouched, fed and watered, a bed to sleep in. It hasn’t laid a hand on him nor tried to feed. In fact, it had kept far away.  Maybe the vampire deserves the benefit of the doubt. Maybe, there isn’t anything more to this than meets the eye, and there are no strings attached? 

But hope is a dangerous thing, tempting him to lower his guard and leave himself vulnerable for thirsty fangs to sink into. No, he thinks grimly, tightening his grip on the makeshift stake. He will not trust, cautious acceptance will have to do. He’s ready to fight with all he’s got when it all heads south.

He reaches the landing and sneakily peeks over the railing. The vampire stands by the front door, guarding it like a troll bridge. To stop the human from escaping? The vampire meticulously folds up his sleek, black umbrella and places it back in his stand. He looks so tall, impossibly tall, even from the human’s vantage point. The vampire is dressed in a three-piece suit and leather dress shoes that seems more suited to an office boardroom than house wear.

As the human strains for a better look, a sudden creak of the floor makes the vampire snap his head up. Chilling red eyes lock with the human’s in a way that sends a jolt of pure terror down the man’s spine. Would he be punished for this? Would the vampire strip him of his free will and send him marching down to the basement for punishment? He’s heard they can do that–and worse. All the fear sparks anew. He can’t catch his breath - he’s panicking.

But the vampire's eyes aren’t actually filled with the predatory and furious glint he expected. Instead, a swirl of emotions flickers within them - concern, sorrow,  even…anxiety? It’s a disarming sight. This creature looks nearly as worried as Lucas feels…

—

"There's been a change in plans,” August laments.

August could literally hear the human’s heart drop in his chest, like a lead weight falling into a deep well. The human’s eyes are wide with despair, and his mouth drops open as though he’s been struck across the cheek. A wave of guilt crashes over August, and he isn’t oblivious to how this looks. It looks like the betrayal and deceit the human has anticipated since he first set eyes on August.  August is well aware he just crushed the man’s hopes to dust, and confirmed every doubt and fear. But it’s out of his hands. Mother nature is a cruel mistress.

“No-” the human rasps, nearly falling down the stairs as his legs give out on him.  “No, vamp. You said you’d take me home. You said today. You promised-”

“That’s not the element that’s changed. My promises are sworn and imperishable. There is, however, a delay.”

"A ‘delay’…” The human repeats incredulously, a hint of sarcasm to his tone. His suspicion eats away at him, misplaced though it is. August is many things - a liar, he is not. But there’s no way the human could know that. Not yet, anyway. The human takes a cautious step back from August, staring him up and down with disdain. 

"A storm is raging outside. The streets are thick with snow and ice, and the skies are dark with thundering clouds. It’s too dangerous to make the drive.”

“I don’t care,” the human snidely retorts. “I’ll walk it if I have to. Just open the door for me, and I’ll be on my merry way. I’ll be out of your hair and you can have your big, lonely mansion all to yourself again.”

Yes, his lonely mansion. All to himself. The words sting more than August cares to admit. He winces like a knife is twisting in his belly. When the human goes home, he will be all alone again. It was nice…is nice…the company. Talking to someone that’s not a suffering patient or his own reflection in the mirror.  He already feels the emptiness settling over him once again. He longs for companionship, for someone to share his home with. He sighs, knowing that he'll have to wait a bit longer for his wish to come true. He can’t keep the human here–at least not indefinitely. But he will have to make the human understand that tonight is non-negotiable. 

“You can’t-” August shakes his head. The man would never make it home. Not with the minus temperatures and the blankets of snow.

“I can. I am. Move,” the human growls, his hands balled into fists. Only then does August notice the crude stake in the human’s white-kncukled hand. No, this human will never be his friend, but even still, August has a duty to him.

The human storms towards the door and tries to push it open. It doesn’t budge. He barges his shoulder into the door, desperately ramming it. Still it doesn’t give. Soon, he’s kicking and shoving and a warbled cry rockets up his throat. Despite his frantic assault, the door only cracks open slightly.

“Snow,” August chimes in, pointing to the falling white powder crumbling through the gap in the door. “We’re snowed in. Must be at least twelve inches of it, I would think.”

“No. This can’t be happening. We-We climb out the bedroom window!” The human’s eyes light up at the idea, sprinting towards the staircase in a panic.

“And then what will you do? Trek all the way back to human territory in this snowstorm? Do you know how far out we are?”

In the blink of an eye, the human tumbles to the floor in a heap, screaming into his hands, pulling at his hair. The blizzard howls like a banshee outside, a gust of snow blows in from outside. The human knows he’s stuck here. He’s trapped here, with a bloodsucker. He’s going to die. Or at least that’s what he must believe. 

“I can’t stay here. With you. I won’t do it.”

“Please,” August says. He resists the urge to move closer; there’s no point in riling the human any more than he’s already riled himself up.  “My word is my bond. I won’t harm you. But I can’t in good conscience return you to where I found you. I’m a physician. I can’t put anyone in harm’s way. To sleep rough on a night like tonight–it would be a death sentence.” 

The human laughs coldly. “Was this your plan all along? Crush my spirits? Delude me into thinking it’s my choice to stay?” 

“I don’t control the weather,” August sighs. “This doesn’t change a thing. I will still take you home as soon as the roads are clear.”

The human remains silent, his jaw clenched. With a final, hate-filled glare, he storms towards the stairs, and, like a sulking teenager, stomps upward in a whirlwind of fury. The slam of his bedroom door reverberates throughout the house.

But the human is still here. He is still safe. August hasn’t failed entirely. 

An exhausted breath escapes August’s lips. He isn’t used to this, the vulnerability of sharing his haven and bearing the weight of responsibility for another life. A knot of unease tightens in his gut. These forced close quarters may at least offer him a chance to ease the human’s fear and earn a crumb of forgiveness, but August can’t help but wonder –  will they be able to bridge the chasm between predator and prey?

This is going to be a long couple of days…

---

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[kusuguricafe]

Tickletober Week 2: Revenge

ScaraLynLumi Part 2 of 2

read part 1 here

A/N: Inspired by this incredible scara lyney art I commissioned by @ppystkposts ❤️❤️❤️

Summary: Wanderer gets his revenge~

Characters: lee!Lyney, ler!Wanderer, spectator Lumine

“He did WHAT? Oh, he’s dead. Where is that little-”

“Kasacchi! Wait!!”

Too late. Wanderer had already sped off with his anemo jet boosters. There was no way Lumine could catch up to him now.

“In front of an entire crowd… Unbelievable! I swear, when I find him I’m gonna-”

“Excuse me, sir. No flying in the theater, please.”

Wanderer stopped in his tracks, still hovering above the ground. He looked down at the theater attendant. “Where is that little magician punk?”

“L-Lyney? He should still be backstage- Hey! I said no- Oh, forget it.”

Wanderer rushed towards the stage, bursted through the curtains, and landed backstage. He searched around for a minute or so, until he almost ran into Lynette.

“Careful,” she said

“Where’s your brother?”

“He’s putting props away, why do you- and he’s gone.”

“Hey,” Lumine waved down the theater attendant. “Did you happen to see anyone, uh, fly through here?”

“As a matter of fact, I did. He went backstage.”

“Thank you!” Lumine ran off in that direction.

“No running in the theater, young lady! Ugh, what is with people today!?”

Wanderer skirted around another corner and paused. A glimmer of light had caught his eye. He hovered over to it and, lo and behold, it was from the cat embellishment on Lyney’s hat!

“Gotcha!” Wanderer dive-bombed the magician, landing on top of him.

“WaAAH! Whoa there!” Lyney blinked in disbelief. “Kasacchi?”

Wanderer glanced down at the rope Lyney was holding and smirked.

“D-did, uh, did Lumine tell you about- Wait, what’re you-”

Wanderer snatched the rope, quickly tying Lyney’s wrists together.

“H-hey! You don’t have to do this!”

“Oh, but I do. You’re coming with me.”

And with that, Wanderer lifted Lyney up, carrying him bridal style. He flew behind another set of smaller curtains (presumably the changing room), causing Lyney’s hat to fall off. He set Lyney down on his knees, grabbing the running end of the rope and tying it to a hook on the ceiling. He sat behind Lyney and said in a low voice, “Did you really think I’d let you get away with a stunt like that?”

“I can free myself, you know. I am a magician after all.”

“Not easily.”

“What do you mea- aH! W-wait!”

Wanderer’s fingers crept onto Lyney’s exposed underarms, preparing to strike.

“C-can we talk about this?”

“Mm… No.”

“EEEHEHEHAHAHAHA NAHAHAHAHAHA!”

“How’s it feel, huh?”

“IHIHIT TIHAHAHAHAHA! TIHIHICKLES!”

“Oh, does it?”

“EEHEHEYAHAHAHAHAAAA! NAHAHAHAHAT THEHEHEHEHERAHAHAHAHAHA!”

“Lynette! Do you know where Kasacchi went?” Lumine asked.

“He went over-”

“AAAAHHHHH! AHAHAHAHAAAAA!”

“Did. Did you hear that?” Lumine looked around worriedly.

“That sounded like Lyney.”

“I think it came from over there,” Lumine pointed to the changing room.

The laughter became clearer as the two walked over towards the room. They saw Lyney’s hat on its side sitting just outside the curtains.

“Lyney…?” Lumine said as she drew back the curtains.

“Lumine! Lynette!” Lyney exclaimed.

The girls watched as Wanderer’s right hand curled into Lyney’s right armpit while his left hand squeezed a sweet spot on Lyney’s left thigh.

“Please, you have to help mehEHEHEHE NOHOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Lyney was beyond embarrassed. How could he let the Traveler see him in such a position!?

Lynette covered her mouth and giggled softly. She looked at Lumine, “Well, he does kind of deserve it…”

Lumine could not stop staring at the scene in front of her.

“You’re on your own, brother. Have fun, you three.” Lynette closed the curtains behind her and left.

“WAHAHAHAHAHAIT! LYNEHEHETTE! Come bahahAHAHAHAHAHACK! LUMIHIHIHIHIHINE! HEHEHEHELP MEHEHEHEHEHEHEE!”

“Are you gonna help or not, Traveler?” Wanderer smiled at Lumine.

Lumine kneeled down in front of Lyney. It was too hard to resist—Lyney looked so cute and helpless tied up like that. She placed her hands on his inner thighs.

“Good choice,” Wanderer said, moving his left hand back up. He rested his hands on Lyney’s armpits, waiting for Lumine to make a move.

“Lumine, please, I beg you, don’t help him, help meEEEEAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Lyney’s face flushed bright red.

Lumine gently scratched Lyney’s inner thighs while Wanderer dug his fingers into Lyney’s underarms.

“PLEEEHEHEHEHEEASE! I’M GONNA DAHAHAHAHAHAHAIEEEE!”

“He’s just as ticklish as you, Kasacchi!”

“Don't make this about me,” Wanderer blushed. He leaned in closer to Lyney’s ear and said, “You must really like this, huh? You’re not fighting back at all.”

Lyney felt like he was going to explode. “IHIHI DOHOHOHOHOON’T!” he whined.

Lumine began squeezing Lyney’s thighs, trying to find that sweet spot Wanderer had found earlier. “I thought you loved this, Lyney,” Lumine said, pouting.

“DON’T TELL HIM THAHAHAHAHAT!!”

“Figures,” Wanderer said.

“As if you don’t enjoy it too, Kasacchi~” Lumine teased.

“Wha-!? I-I don’t!”

That brief moment of hesitation was all Lyney needed to finally free his hands. He held onto the rope instead, not wanting the others to know he had escaped just yet.

“You certainly seemed like you were enjoying it during our performance~” Lyney chimed in.

“You really think you’re in a position to make comments like that right nahAHAHAHAHAHAHA!?”

Lyney reached back and squeezed right above Wanderer’s knees.

“OHO NOHOHO YOU DOHOHOHON’T!” Wanderer grabbed Lyney’s waist, squeezing up and down his sides and hips.

Lumine giggled at the sight in front of her. She reached for both of them, skittering her fingers across the sensitive skin under Wanderer’s knee and wiggling her thumb into a spot between Lyney’s upper thigh and hip that she knew drove him crazy.

“NOHOHOHOHO! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!” Wanderer yelled.

“AHAHAHAHAHA LUHUHUMIHIHIHIHIHINE!!” Lyney cried.

The boys leaned back onto the floor and Lumine took the opportunity to sit on Lyney’s left leg and Wanderer’s right, pinning them both. “You two need to get over yourselves,” she said, grabbing Lyney’s thigh with her left hand and Wanderer’s with her right, skillfully tickling both of their inner thighs. “Convenient you’re both super ticklish here~”

“PLEHEHEHEHEASE LUHUMIHIHIHINE!!” Lyney begged.

“THAT’S NOT FAHAHAHAHAIR!” Wanderer objected.

She “tormented” them for a few more minutes, targeting spots she knew were very ticklish for both of them.

“How are you all still doing this, it’s been like twenty minutes.”

“Lynette!?” Lyney and Lumine said simultaneously.

“Wrap it up, will you? You said we could eat out tonight, Lyney. I’m getting hungry.” She closed the curtains again.

The boys laid still on the ground, panting. After a moment, Lyney asked Lumine and Wanderer, “Would you two like to join us?”

“Are you serious!?” Wanderer asked incredulously.

“I would love to! Let’s go, Kasacchi!”

“You need to get off of us first.” Wanderer said matter-of-factly.

“Oh! Right,” Lumine said, mildly embarrassed.

“We’ll be ready in a few, Lynette!” Lyney called out to his sister.

“Cool, you owe me three desserts. One from each of you.”

[mouwrites]

Hi. Could you do a platonic Cole x baby reader from Ninjago please? I had this idea that was so cute. So, during a nice calm day at the Monastery, Cole finds an abandoned baby at the bottom of the Monastery steps. The baby is sick and very adorable. But... baby has a tail and little clawed hands and feet. So Cole decides to be Papa Cole again and adopts the baby reader. If you don't mind that is

Of course I don't mind! :D I just hope this is up to your expectations haha

Word count: 969

Ninjago - Cole Adopts a Mystery Baby (You)

The sun cast its friendly afternoon rays on the monastery, warming the skin of the ninjas enjoying a cup of tea within. It was days like this that made them grateful for an open training arena. The full view of the cerulean sky brushed artfully with fluffy clouds was captivating; the perfect way to unwind after a rather vigorous sparring match.

While the others opted to sit or lay back while they relaxed, Cole, feeling rather spry, paced absentmindedly around the area. Frankly, he was ready for another match. But he knew his companions wouldn’t be ready to face him for a while longer, so he took to exercising himself.

As he sauntered past the gates, he heard a faint noise. It was quiet, but he was sure he’d heard it. He stopped in his tracks, eyebrows knitting together as he waited for the noise to sound off again.

There it was. Almost like a kitten crying. No, surely that was a human baby’s cry. And it was coming from outside.

Cole pushed the doors open, scanning the area. He wasn’t sure if he should be looking for someone with a baby or a baby alone. On the off chance that it was the latter case, he closed the doors behind him and began a more thorough search.

The noise got louder as he descended the stairs. What began as a faint cry, barely audible above the wind, gradually became an ear-piercing wail. Lower and lower he descended. Louder and louder became the cry. Cole was about to cover his ears when he spotted a little bundle at the very bottom of the stairs. 

He practically jumped down the remaining steps, crouching down to pick the infant up. He looked around, trying to locate the child’s mother, or otherwise some adult responsible for it. But there was no one.

He directed his attention at the baby. Its cries were waning now that it was in Cole’s arms, and he noticed how its strained face was softening. Its huge e/c eyes locked onto his face, scanning it with the innocent curiosity of… well, a baby.

“Hi there,” Cole cooed with a smile. “Where’s your mama?”

The baby cooed, wriggling its arms free of the tight swaddle to grab at the fabric of Cole’s gi. 

He divided his attention between the baby and searching the area. He spent a good 20 minutes pacing around, hoping to find someone who had misplaced their child. Yet, the longer he looked, the less he could help wondering: Who would do such a thing..?

The baby started to make uncomfortable noises. Cole tried repositioning it, but that only seemed to make it worse. “Okay, okay, let’s go,” he patted its back, trying to soothe it while he hurried up the stairs.

The doors opened before he even reached the top. Kai looked out with an annoyed expression, probably wondering where the crying noise was coming from. His face softened when he spotted Cole bouncing up the steps with a screaming baby in his arms.

Before Kai could accuse him of anything, he shouted over the infant’s screams: “I found it at the bottom of the steps! I think it was abandoned!”

Kai just nodded. He placed his hands over his ears. Everyone else followed suit, except for Cole, who was occupied holding the source of the noise.

As he shifted the baby to one arm, the blanket fell to the floor. Stooping down, he snatched the f/c fabric and wrapped the baby rather clumsily. Realizing what he was trying to do, Kai approached, hovering his heated hands over the baby. It cooed at the warmth, finally ceasing its screaming. Apparently, it was just cold.

Everyone sighed audibly.

“You said you found this thing?” Jay inquired, approaching warily. “Look at its hands!”

Cole hadn’t noticed before, but on the tip of each sausage-like finger was a pointed claw. He was suddenly grateful that it had grabbed at his clothes and not his skin. Now that he was looking more closely, he also noticed a tail curling out beneath you. 

“So you’re not a human baby,” he murmured. “Then what…” he stopped when its eyes opened, looking deep into his. “Aw, who cares? You’re adorable.”

The more concerning thing he noticed was the way the baby’s face stayed flushed as the minutes passed. He placed a hand on its forehead. Frowning, he determined that it probably had a fever. He’d need to get some medicine (was there medicine for babies? He’d have to do some research…). 

As he fiddled with the blanket some more, he noticed a slip of paper pinned to its hem.

“Y/n,” he read. “Y/n. Is that your name? Cute name for a cute baby.” 

Then, figuring the best thing for any sick creature was rest, Cole took the baby to his bed. He placed it in the center, smiling when its pained expression softened a little.

Cole watched the rhythmic rising and falling of its chest. He was absolutely enchanted by this mysterious little creature; its h/c peach fuzz, the s/c baby fat that made up its tiny form, its little claws… he’d hardly known the thing for an hour and he was already in love.

With a pang of sadness, he whispered: “Who would do this to a precious little life?” His brows furrowed. “Whoever it was, I hope they never come back. They don’t deserve a baby if they’re just going to abandon it.”

The baby grunted, its head lolling to the side to face Cole. A bubble of drool popped on its lips.

Cole chuckled quietly. “It’s okay, kiddo. You’re safe now.” Then, placing his finger in its palm and letting its chubby fingers curl around his, he added: “I’ll take care of you.”

Thank you anon for your request! And thank you reading, take care fellas <33

(divider by saradika)

[kairiscorner]

if its okay with you! make out session with noir?👀

SURE THING ANON q(≧▽≦q) oK WAIT THIS ALSO REMINDED ME OF MY OTHER NOIR BOT PROMPT......... fuck it i'm gonna write about it bc why not ✍️(◔◡◔)

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

giving your hero a kiss.

before you knew it, you were snatched out of the villain's clutches, and soon in the arms of none other that spider man. you will never forget the first words you exchanged with him: "please don't vomit on the turtleneck, i ran out of detergent today." nothing could've been more reassuring than that, you were sure you thought with sarcasm and slight fear and anxiousness creeping up your mind. spider man set you down gently away from the fight, and in a few moments... the villain that threatened to kill you was on the ground, unconscious, with spider man walking away unscathed towards you.

he crouched down to level with you as he looked into your eyes. "you good?" he asked you as you heaved, trying to process what just happened. he was getting a bit worried since your breathing sounded a little erratic, but he placed his hand on your shoulder and tried to sound as comforting as possible. "hey, you're okay now, i promise..." he told you as you panted and heaved; the adrenaline rushed through your veins like crazy as you tried to digest just what the hell happened.

spider man... he saved you. he saved you, he cared about you.

"it's okay... you're okay, i promise." he repeated as he took off his mask and looked at you. when you gazed back up at him... you were blown away by who you just saw. that dark, slicked back yet tousled hair from the mask, that sharp nose, those thin yet very red lips of his, and those eyes... those gray and brown eyes of his that just allured you ever since you saw him, when he was recognizable, when he was average like you--oh, no way.

"...parker?" you asked aloud as peter looked at you with a slight, crooked smile. he nodded and lapped a little at his lips that were going dry. "yeah, it's me." he said with an equally dry chuckle as you brought yourself forward a little, leaning towards him as his gaze attracted you even more. he doesn't find himself pulling away, but rather, he brings himself even closer to you. his breath felt hot against your lips, and soon... you touched his lips with your own, and you didn't hesitate a single second to let him know you were grateful for his help.

peter was astounded by how quickly this whole situation was unfurling, but he did not complain a single bit. instead, he moved his hand from your shoulder to your arm as he locked his lips with yours in a feverish kiss. he couldn't deny your lips were so wonderful to feel against his; the way you made his world stop turning for a few seconds as he realized you kissed him, it made him wish this feeling would last forever, if he could revisit that fight over and over and over again just so he could kiss you for the first time all over again... he'd do it, no questions asked, and in a heartbeat.

as you pulled away from peter, who was now extremely flustered; blushing from the top of his forehead down to his collarbone, he smiled at you widely and looked directly into your eyes. "is... this what i get for being a hero?" he asked you with a tone of disbelief at the fact you kissed him. you smiled shyly at him, still not believing what just happened either, but hey, it did happen--and you loved it. "it's what you get for being my hero." you told him as you pecked his cheek with a kiss, which sent sparks flying in his heart as he leaned against you a little--weak at your flurry of kisses. "i'll take that, i'm kinda glad i finally told you this way... i get a free kiss from the one person who makes me feel like an absolute love struck idiot and some closure between us two." he said as he smiled up at you and brought you in for an embrace.

you can expect him to take his job as spider man a whole lot more seriously now, not just because you know his secret identity now... but because he also gets to taste a kiss from you as a reward.

a/n: i just realized this was super similar to my miles one, so i'm really sorry if i seem like i'm repeating ideas really 😭😭😭

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @sabcandoit @binibinileonara @k4tsu3 @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy

[tarithenurse]

I see fire

Fandom: D&D 5E/homebrew campaign. Word count: 2309 Contents: Still that questionable justice system, probation, new people, gross food. A/N: This is the first bit from the actual campaign. Any questions are welcome. Please comment and like and reblog. Let me know if you want a tag. Divider by @firefly-graphics

IV

Zilvra has been listening to the distant sounds of the city for several days, unable to get a glimpse of the sky through the bars in the window unless she were to stand on the shit bucket – not an appealing thing to do so she has refrained.

Then one day a couple of guards come with a finely dressed man in tow who explains that it’s time for her to work off her debt.

Silently, she follows them through the city, blinking in the sharp sunlight as she tries to get her bearings along the way to a large building with a sign hanging by the door. It’s adorned with crossed weapons (a sword and a mace) upon a shield and beneath it are the words “Adventurers’ Guild”.

She can’t help to hesitate for a moment, not having expected this but rather some factory or maybe work at the docks, but she’s only given a few seconds before one of the guards pushes her forward and across the threshold.

The room is big but also tightly packed with smaller groupings of equally excited and nervous looking people. Most of them are humans but there are a few elves too...and two very colourful individuals – a male and a female who appear to be feeling out of place judging by the way they are looking about.

The male is blue skinned with poofy white hair that he’s tried to comb. He’s well armoured but oddly lithe. Allowing her gaze to travel the length of his body, Zilvra notices that his leather armour appears to be fitted with extra nobs and switches and he has some unidentifiable items hanging from his belt. She is unsure what race he is.

The female on the other hand is elvish although she is far from the race of either drow or High Elves...even Wood Elves would look different although her green colour scheme might be well suited for a life in the forest. Long hair (a darker green) is loosely braided and pushed to one side, allowing a view of a light leather armour and flowy clothes that still seem practical.

That’s all Zilvra has time to take note of before she’s pushed in their direction.

“These are your new friends,” the neatly dressed escort explains, returning from a desk where a rough looking man with black beard and hair is sorting through stacks of papers.

Handing a key to a guard, the escort watches as Zilvra’s manacles are unlocked, freeing her of the chain and ball she’d been lugging around for a long time. Oh, it feels wonderful and the drow can’t help but relish the feather light feeling of freedom only to have it snatched away as the man steps over and conjures new bonds on her wrists and neck. Lighter and without the heavy ball, they manage to remind her of her current status just as well as the previous tethers. At least, though, her items are returned to her and she quickly dons them all.

“They will tighten with time, eventually killing you if you don’t check in with the right people to have them loosened once more,” the escort explains, motioning to the bonds, “we will arrange for that...but make sure to make it to your destinations in time.” Then he turns to the two colourful people: “You now have a full group. Take some time to get to know each other.”

Slinking off to join the guards, the wizard (or whatever he is) gives the three strangers a chance to greet each other.

It turns out the female, who is green skinned, is called Morella and that she’s an eladrin – a Fey elf. She’s a bit vague on some subjects of her life but Zilvra writes it up to nerves and the fact that you don’t tell strangers everything right off the bat. Goodness knows Zilvra won’t.

The blue male is an air genasi by the name of Anvindr Hayate and while he is from this realm technically, he has chosen to embark on a journey of knowledge and research to ultimately help his kin return to where they came from. He doesn’t go into further details but prompts the drow to explain who she is, looking pointedly to the bonds on her wrist and neck.

“My name’s Zilvra Shadowsong,” she offers truthfully, “I’m...also on a bit of an educational quest. I know this first impression is probably not favourable but I promise the wrongs I’ve been accused of are...” she hesitates, looking for the right words, “I just wanted to admire the stars and while I may have been trespassing to get to the roof to do so, I’ve done no harm.”

A discreet snort of either disagreement or incredulity makes the three look over, finding the wizard to be looking at them intently. Noticing that he’s been spotted (although he was obviously not trying to hide it), he steps over.

“Even if you hadn’t trespassed, Roof Walking is still a crime and, in fact, you’ve been let off easy,” he claims. Then his expression softens a bit. “I’m curious to see what the three of you will accomplish as the oddball trio that you are.”

“Excuse me?” Morella bristles at his words.

He just smiles. “Look around. You’re all...misfits compared to the rest and that’s why we’ve placed you in a group together. You’re group D now. Master Tio will explain further once you’re ready,” with that he motions towards the large desk and the bearded man there, “but fear not...I have a feeling you’ve got potential.”

Watching as the man strides off out the door, it takes a moment for the newly made Group D to gather their thoughts.

“D,” Morella mocks, “what a lame name.”

Anvindr shrugs. “Guess we can have it changed?”

“To what?”

He looks both women over. “The misfits? The...rebels?”

Both females perk up at the last suggestion and the trio decides to go with that. Then they approach the desk.

Master Tio is a stout man with clear eyes and several scars that probably can be attributed to a life of adventure for himself. Straightening from his hunched position, he looks over the odd trio with a crooked smile.

“So you’ve accepted working together? Good good.” He ruffles through one of the stacks of papers on the desk, eventually procuring two documents but then shakes his head at one of them before returning it to the stack. “I got a job for you, if you want it.” His eyes are on Zilvra, and she picks up on the unspoken meaning: she doesn’t have a choice. “I want you to head to Heartwell Shire – it’s three or four days’ travel from here if you head east to Oldgarde and north from there. In Heartwell, find Deputy Willem and Marshal McBribe, they’ll fill you in on the rest but I can say that it’s something about the mine up there.” He explains more about the trip: people who can help them with shelter and food in Oldgarde thanks to the way the system is set up with identifying tags (they’re copper rank), the fauna of the region which is unfamiliar to them all, and the time pressure that at least Zilvra is under. “You’ve got five days so you want to get there to get the bonds extended.”

The newly acquainted outsiders exchange glances, at least one of them having a clear preference to make the trip as quick as possible.

“One thing before we leave,” Morella asks sugary sweet, “while walking from the harbour I couldn’t help but notice the damage to the city?”

Something dark crosses Tio’s face. “Yeah...long story short, a rebellious group of masons went amok and caused quite a bit of destruction. It got so bad the king had to intervene and they killed him. It’s best not to talk too much about it for now.” He slumps back in his chair, staring fixedly on a bare spot on the desk. “Just know that the guilty have been dealt with under orders of the widower queen. Now git.”

Not daring to push the subject further, the trio exits the Guild House, finding themselves on a street that has truly woken up. Already having all they need, the three of them thankfully agree to set off towards Heartwell Shire along the route suggested by Tio.

As the group walks, they slowly begin chatting more openly. First contemplating the system for adventurers, they can’t help but wonder what it takes to rise in the ranks.

“So if we’re copper,” Morella contemplates, “and we already will get free food and lodging...what will we get at silver and gold ranks?”

“Actually paid?” Zilvra suggests, thinking of her empty coin purse.

The male nods. “I’ve been told, and I hope it’s true, that you’d get access to places like the library and such.”

“Why do you hope that?” the eladrin asks curiously.

“I need to do some research...” Sighing, it’s evident that he takes the moment to consider what to tell them. “I...my people have been forced to flee our home. We come from another plane of existence and...let’s just say it hasn’t been pretty. I want for us to take back our home.”

The women nod.

“I come from a different plane of existence too,” the colourful of the females admits to no one’s surprise, “from the Fey Wild.”

“Why’d you leave?” Zilvra asks.

“...I don’t know...I can’t remember.” Stunned silence forces Morella to elaborate: “I just...I know I was there one moment and the next I was on a ship in the middle of the ocean. The people onboard were kinda shocked at me appearing out of nowhere. They were nice though, told me we were headed to Stouvania.”

The two other share a glance.

Anvindr is the one to speak up: “So you need to get back home.”

“Nah, I kinda like seeing new things so this is exiting,” the Fey elf grins, “besides I wouldn’t know where to go there either so might as well enjoy this for a while. Maybe I’ll remember something eventually.”

“But won’t people be looking for you?”

She seems surprised at the idea as if she hadn’t considered that before. “Maybe?”Then she turns with a smile to the drow. “And you?

Zilvra doesn’t quite like the beaming attention. “Well...as I said: I didn’t intend to do anything illegal. Yeah, alright, I might have been trespassing but I just wanted to look at the stars! We don’t have them in the Underdark.”

“Underdark?” Morella wonders.

Explaining briefly about the world below ground where she’s from, Zilvra manages to avoid further questions about her past. For now.

---

They walk the entire day, arriving at Oldgarde by sunset.

The place is nothing more than a village, though, with only one bigger building – the inn which clearly has been expanded in recent years and bears the sign “Lion’s Pride Inn”. Several of the city’s guards can be seen strolling or loitering, making Zilvra slightly uneasy, tugging at her sleeves and hood to hid the bonds. As the trio is about to enter the inn, they spot one of the other newly formed adventuring groups.

They’ve barely stepped into the crowded place before a boisterous woman bears down on them, presenting herself as Malikka. Showing her their tags, she verifies that food’s on the house and that they can sleep in the basement.

Checking out the quarters, the trio is utterly dismayed (and grossed out). What once might have been a coal or root cellar has barely been cleared out and in one corner there’s still a pile of refuse with plenty of fat rats. Not to mention the half full piss pot.

It is free, though, and none of the trio has money to buy a room instead so they accept, returning to the main room of the tavern for the promised meal only to be disappointed once more by stale and moulding bread and ale gone bad. Thankfully, Morella has a few tricks up her sleeve and is able to create a tiny but filling meal of Goodberries.

While nibbling, Zilvra points out the other group of adventurers and eventually Anvindr walks over to them, the rest of the trio in tow, and suggests an arm wrestling match so he can test out something about his armour.

The group consists of three male humans called Owen, Hayden, and Adam. Owen, a strong guy who might be a fighter, accepts the challenge after downing his expired beer. The other two discreetly push their mugs towards their friend, too disgusted by the contents to want to drink it, making Owen beam happily. Perhaps that joy is what carries him to a hard earned victory despite the steam slipping from Anvindr’s armour as they compete.

“Where’ve you got that armour from?” Hayden asks, fidgeting with the rings of his own.

The air genasi smiles proudly while rubbing his hand where it got slammed into the table. “I made it myself. I’m a bit of a tinkerer.”

It turns out to be a merry evening. No one but Owen drinks the ale, making sure that nothing goes to waste, and eventually everyone finds their way down into the basement to get some rest – the two of elven kin taking turns to rest so someone is awake at all times...and good thing too because during Zilvra’s watch, Owen wakes up: sick from the beer he pukes in the corner before she can do anything, barely acknowledges her help with cleaning him up after (long live magic) and eventually falling asleep again.

The only other thing that happens during the night is a strange metamorphosis of the eladrin as she changes appearance during her restful trance: from verdant greens and pinks to flaming hues that could match the warmest fire.

[bitchinbarzal]

I know you asked for Jamie and mama d Marley angst but I was thinking of a Trevor and mama Zegras scenario…

so can I request a thing where before Mila is born and while the twins are still really little a girl that Trevor used to hook up with somewhat regularly comes back around and makes mama kind of jealous because the other girl is making it clear she wants Trevor again and while she’s married to him she knows he used to be a bit of a fuck boy so she can’t help but worry a little?

“If you stare any harder, I think your vein is going to pop” Jamie’s girlfriend jokes, playing with Sasha on the worktop while you prep the salad.

Your gaze was stuck securely on Trevor outside, speaking to her

You turn and glare “Can you blame me? They used to hook up, she moved to Montreal to work with the habs now she’s back?”

Sasha makes a noise of concern at the height of your voice and you pout “I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean to scare you” and take him from her before she says

“He’s the father of your babies, your husband and he’s not such a bad guy y/n give him the benefit of the doubt”

Before you can say much else, Trevor comes into the kitchen with Tristan “Someone was missing mom” he states, you take Tris with your one free arm and smile at the boy contently

“Were you missing mommy?”

Trevor frowns “I was talking about me?”

You roll your eyes at him and pass over Sasha “Please take out the Salad, I think Jamie is almost done cooking”

Trevor doesn’t miss the way you avoid his joke or how you dismiss him. He shrugs it off and continues outside to the barbecue.

Once you’d sorted everything out, you ventured outside to find your seat taken by her, Lydia. She had Sasha on her lap while she laughed along to whatever Trevor was saying.

The pang in your chest knocked you back as you watched the scene infront of you.

Jamie shouted on you, giving up his seat so you could sit down and eat. You absentmindedly sat down to eat from the plate when Sasha yells out from Lydia’s lap for you

“Mama! Mamamama!” He babbles and thrashes around in her arms until you stand up to get him.

It feels horrible to do, but you snatch him out of her hands, taking Tristan from Trevor too before headed back inside under the guise of “feeding them”

Inside the twins were in their play pen when you sat down and burst into tears, your emotions now bubbled to the top.

You never ended up going back out there, telling everyone that the boys were getting cranky and you were putting them down to sleep.

Trevor couldn’t ignore the stares he was getting from Jamie and his girlfriend all night but didn’t question it at the time.

Once all your dinner guests had left Trevor ventured along the hallway to the twins room to find you swaying on the rocking chair holding one of them in each arm.

“Hey, they ok?” He mumbles as to not wake them.

You just grunted “everyone gone?”

“Yeah, Lydia just left”

You roll your eyes and snap “Shut the door? They’re almost asleep”

He scowls a little “Babe what-“

“Trevor just leave, please I’ve just gotten them to sleep”

“What is your problem?”

You sigh before putting the boys down in their cribs and stepping out the room to a disgruntled husband

“You! You’re my problem and Lydia! You have been with her all night, in our house! With our sons! She stole my seat at dinner Trevor and she was feeding my son like she was playing happy families!”

His eyes go wide “That’s what you’re so upset about?!”

“Yes, you two were sex buddies when she worked for the ducks! Do you blame me, your wife for being upset that she’s around again? Why was she even in our house-“

“Because we are co-workers and she is my friend-“

You cut him off by scoffing “I’m done here��

Taking off down the hallway he calls out “Where are you going?”

“I’m done with this conversation Trevor, I’m done being second to literally everyone else, I’m done being your pretty little wife”

“y/n come back here we aren’t-“

The twins began crying then interrupting him, he sighed and walked into their room as you took off downstairs.

While we was soothing them back to sleep you could hear the baby monitor on the kitchen counter and heard him say

“When Will i ever get it right with your mama, eh Tris?”

[naomi-nana]

🍓 :: sweet

a/n: well hello, it's almost 'back to school' days for me, so i decided to write something lol, this time i'll write for ranpo bc ykyk ilhsm. also i do take request so feel free to request :D !

SUMMARRY maybe you don't remember your past life, but you still feel some sort of connection towards the detective. hm, wonder why? (lmao it sounds so cliche)

warning: mentions of amnesia, accidents(such as car crash or anything you could think of), the 'me' here means ranpo btw

genre: angst (i feel like writing angst bc it's raining😈😈😈😈)

ranpo edogawa x fem!reader [sorry i'm much more comfortable with writing female reader, i will try to write for male one day]

NOT PROOFREAD

"Ranpo kun! Stop eating sweets will you? You will be sick!" she snatch away my snacks, i(obviously) frowned at her action.

"whyy [name] chann, i don't have to do anymore work, rightt??"

"you still have case to solve!"

"i don't want to!!~" i turned my back towards her, hoping she would feel sorry for what she did and give my snacks back!

that time..

"[name] chan look! look! i found lots of cats heree!~" i shoved the cat i found to [name]

"wahahh! It's really cute~" [name] say as she rub(??) the cat's head. i'm obviously not satisfied though, so i took her hand to my head and forced her to pat me instead!

that time too..

"[name] chan, i'm really tired! can you carry me?" i said, today was really tiring. obviously i wanted to be carried. (brat🙄)

"i would love to, but i'm also really tired. sorry. you can cling on my hand though, if you'd like :)" [name] offered her hand to me and i grab it of course!

"thank you, [name] chan! you're just as sweet as ever!!"

that time also..

"[name]!" i screamed.

the car infront of her was going really fast, [name] is currently not able to walk because she injured her leg yesterday. i was buying some food and carelessly leave her outside and tell her to wait.

the car hit [name], not entirely, that's why she is still alive. i obviously(lmao again), bought her to yosano. [name] is still alive but yosano said her head receives a lot of damage because of the crash. so, [name] can't remember anything. she doesn't even remember me.

and that time.

"ranpo kun!"

"ranpoo kunnn! wake up, we have work to do!"

i wake up from my slumber and saw [name] infront of me, she was holding a paper, probably the case file.

"sorry, [name] chan. i'm kinda tired"

"what are you tired of anyways? you've been eating sweets this whole day! seriously you have to stop, or you will get sick!" she complained.

"you really didn't change huh" i looked up at her

"what do you mean, ranpo kun? did you eat sweets that contains alcohol? that will probably explain your word.." she puts her hand on her chin, thinking probably.

"heh, nothing, you're just as sweet as ever :)"

hello, author here! i apologize if anyone has already made the same exact fanfic before me. i probably do not know of it. if you've made the same exact fanfic as mine, please dm me if you want me to take it down.

© property of naomi-nana, do not plagiarize.

[hauntingkiki]

so! a little background/story about me; i’m in two choirs, and i’ve been doing choir for three years now, almost four, and on 5/7/24, we had an awards ceremony concert and I GOT AWARDED!!

so, this story is a little bit inspired about me getting said award and i hope you guys enjoy!:D

(also this is very catholic/religious so if this isn’t your ally then don’t read it!:3 and i apologize if i get anything wrong in this!! i wasn’t born into a catholic/religious household so im not very religious myself so again, i apologize if i get anything wrong! but please feel free to let me know if i messed up anywhere for future requests!)

Congrats, Newbie

Jack Merridew x Choir! Reader

Lord of the Flies

2nd POV

you pulled uncomfortably at the long, black cloak that dropped at your ankles, the frilly white ruffles ticked your neck awkwardly. sweat built up under your armpits and on your palms, making you lift your arms up to somewhat dry your underarms and wipe your hands on your shorts that were under your robe. you turned to one of the girls in your section, jerking your hands up and down with a slight head tilt. “does my uniform look okay?” you asked her softly, dropping your hands back at your side.

she hummed in thought, tapping her chin before fixing your black cap before adjusting the f/c rosary that hung from your neck. she pulled her hands away from your body, eyeing you up and down with furrowed brows. she turned to one of the nearby tenors, tapping his shoulder, she pointed over to you with a quirked brow, muttering to the tall boy.

you shuttered when you made eye contact with the light, icy blue eyes of the tenor which flickered around your frame before going back to your e/c eyes.

his bright, orange curls fought with his black cap that was centered perfectly atop his head. he had pasty skin, dark brown freckles coating every inch of his skin, some dark reds and the same brown color on his lips. he wore the same black robe and black cap like everyone else, but his uniform was slightly different. he had a golden cross stitched into the left side of his robe, indicating he was the leader of this group.

the group you were in.

you noticed his cloak shifting slightly at his waist, faint cracking snapped in the quite air. you put it together that he was popping his knuckles, a nervous habit you noticed he did during rehearsals, warm ups, and performances.

once he was done cracking his fingers, he lifted his hands out from under the black robe and he quickly dusted you off, making sure to not touch you in any weird way. “you should fix your makeup.” he quickly circled a finger in your face before grabbing your rosary and huffing on it, wiping his white button up sleeve across the metal to make it shine slightly more. “it’s creasing.”

your eyes fluttered wide, stumbling over your words, you struggled to find the right sentence. “how much time to i have?” you asked, slipping away from the ginger.

“you have ten minutes.”

“thank you!”

you jogged over to your makeup bag and snatched it, making your way over to a mirror not too far from where everyone else was. you zipped the bag open, hastily moving your makeup around before grabbing your powder and your brush. looking in the mirror, you opened the container before pausing with a slightly ajar mouth.

your makeup wasn’t creased.

you shook your head softly, cursing under your breath, as you gripped the brush tightly, your knuckles turning white.

“-and for our final chorus of the day; we’re going to have jack merridew and his choir sing; Hail Redeemer Kind Divine.”

your heart skipped a beat, snapping the container shut before dropping them back into the bag and running away from the mirror, you sucked in a breath as you watched merridew lead the choral onto the risers.

thankfully, he was busy giving a speech about the piece and what it meant to him, so you quickly ran over to the alto section just before they walked out from behind the curtains.

merridew turned and faced the risers once he was finished with his speech and applause echoed through the chapel. his brows knitted together when he locked eyes with you, the two of you holding eye contact while he walked to his spot on the fourth row. he only broke contact when the clinician coughed, gaining everyone’s attention as the hall fell silent.

the clinician turned to the pianists, waving her hands around before the piano started to play. the clinician; sister jane, turned back to the choir, muttering ‘one, two, three and-‘ before waving her hands around wildly with a loud inhale which made you all gasp before a beautiful harmony of voices boomed through the church hall.

“Hail, Redeemer King Divine!

Priest and Lamb, the throne is thine,

King whose reign shall never cease,

Prince of everlasting peace.”

you slowly glanced around your section as you all sung, smiling softly as you made eye contact with the other altos before turning back to sister jane as she continued to conduct.

“Angels, Saints and nations sing

'Praised be Jesus Christ our King;

Lord of life, earth, sky and sea,

King of love on Calvary.”

you glanced over to the right to look at the guys who were in the middle, your face flushed from any color as you locked eyes with those piercing blue eyes again. you didn’t know what do you in that moment, all you could do was keep singing and deal with it after the song.

“King whose name creation thrills,

Rule our minds, our hearts, our wills, Till in peace each nation rings

With thy praises, King of Kings.”

you swallowed thickly, a small pause in the piece which allowed you to turn away from merridew’s harsh gaze before everyone started to sing again.

“Angles, Saints and nations sing

'Praised be Jesus Christ our King;

Lord of life, earth, sky and sea,

King of love on Calvary.”

you crackled your knuckles from under your robe, fiddling with your thumbs as the song continued on.

“King most holy, King of truth,

Guide the lowly, guide the youth;

Christ thou King of glory bright,

Be to us eternal light.”

sister jane smiled as she conducted, leading the huge group of children and teens through the chorus once again.

“Angles, Saints and nations sing

‘Praised be Jesus Christ our King;

Lord of life, earth, sky and sea,

King of love on Calvary.”

you weren’t going to lie if you found the song kind of annoying. to be true, everyone in your choir-besides merridew-found all the songs your group sang were annoying. even some of the other kids from advanced groups thought some of the songs you all sang were annoying, but no one would say that to the directors.

“Shepherd-King. o’er mountains steep,

Homeward bring the wondering sheep;

Shelter in one royal fold

States and kingdoms, new and old.”

but today.

today was the day for 6 lucky people in every choir to move up to a higher level. obviously, everyone wanted to move up, but you had to put the work and effort into your piece in oder to move up.

“Angles, Saints and nations sing

‘Praised be Jesus Christ our King;

and of course, this only happens once a year.

Lord of life, earth, sky and sea,

King of love on Calvary.”

sister jane brought her hands closer together to create a decrescendo from everyone, signaling a cutoff when she seemed satisfied with the volume control. she smiled brightly over at everyone, dropping her hands at her side.

everyone in the crowd cheered and clapped, some of the older chorus members whistling loudly.

sister jane turned towards the crowd, bowing and extending an arm back towards you guys as you all bowed slightly.

the head priest made his way over towards the front of the stage, white slip of paper in hand as he tapped the mic, chuckling awkwardly as he cleared his throat, opening the paper as his eyes flickered from the 6 names listed down at the huge crowd in front of him. “let’s make this quick, shall we?” he joked, a few of the nuns chuckling.

you bit your lip, holding back a holler as your eyes scanned the room, locking back with jacks piercing eyes.

a faint smile was on his lips, also biting back a laugh at the failed attempt of a joke.

one of jacks friends; simon, stood behind him, his hands placed atop of the ginger’s shoulders. simon slightly leaned forward and smiled brightly at you, waving a finger in your direction which you returned with a closed eyed smile.

“okay.” the priest sighed, adjusting his attire before speaking again. “our six chorus singers who are moving up are…roger crawford, david shore, jackson hill, linsey shore, y/n l/n, and millie harrington.”

claps erupted through the hall again, the choir leaving the stage and soon everyone was out of the chapel and chatting out in the hallway, waiting for rides or wondering off.

you stood by the tall doors, waiting for your parents to arrive to pick you up. you gasped with a stumble, catching yourself with the door as you looked towards the culprit who punched you in the arm.

“congrats on the move up, y/n.” roger beamed slightly, rocking on his heels as he offered his right hand towards you.

you stared at him for a moment, snapping out of it before shaking his hand, faintly smiling. “oh! thanks, you too.”

he smiled, letting go of your hand. “we should probably get acquainted with one another; that way we’re not alone when we get into the new choir.” he suggested, tilting his head side to side.

you nodded, rubbing your neck. “yeah, that’ll be a good idea.”

roger smiled, turning to his left when he spotted auburn curls in the crowd heading over to the two of you.

jack made his way over to both of you, patting roger on the shoulder. “congrats, roger.” he smiled, slowly glancing over towards you. “and…congrats to you too, y/n.”

your eyes fluttered wide, your cheeks flushed a soft pink. you nodded, stuttering faintly. “t-thank you, merridew.”

simon appeared out of no where, throwing his arms around jack’s shoulders. “please! call him jack.” he reassured, smiling warmly towards you. “after all, we’re going to be friends, yeah?”

you nodded. “yeah, yeah we are.” you muttered.

simon beamed before waving his hands around as if to brush that conversation away. “anyways, jack, roger, maurice, and i are gonna hang out to-“ he pinched his pointer and thumb together, bringing them up to his lips whilst clicking his tongue. he quickly dropped his hand and went quite when one of the nuns walked past. once she was out of sight, he turned back to you with a smile. “you wanna tag along?”

your eyes sparkled, surprised that the top four boys in your choir were this rebellious. you expected the four of them to eat dessert before dinner or to skip brushing their teeth in the mornings before heading to school, but this was something completely different and you were all for it.

“of course.”

i hope you guys enjoy!:3 maybe i’ll do a part 2 of them all hanging out if you guys are interested???

[poolsidepanic]

A friend sent me the prompt "Chrissy seeing Heather in her lifeguard swimsuit for the first time 🤭" and this is what I wrote for it :D

A Colour So Divine

words: 1,095 | read on ao3

“I can’t believe my parents made me get a job.”

Chrissy hums in distracted sympathy, flipping through her magazine as she waits for Heather to come out of the bathroom. She lays on her stomach across the bed in Heather’s room, leafing through the pages to find those personality quizzes she likes taking and Heather likes laughing at.

The Holloways are out this afternoon. Apparently Heather’s dad had some big story in their paper which sold a lot of issues, or something. All the staff and their partners are out celebrating, which means that she and Heather have the house all to themselves.

It’s fun! Chrissy loves days like these where they can hang out together, carefree and happy. On the top of her dresser, Heather’s radio plays a cheerful pop song which Chrissy swings her legs in time to the beat of.

“I was supposed to hang out with Billy and Tommy this summer but now it looks like I’ll be too busy. And Robin’s not gonna be pleased! Our shifts don’t overlap much so our free days are never the same.”

“That sucks,” Chrissy says, finally finding the right page. “Oh, Heather, they have a sexual compatibility quiz in this one! We should do it together!”

“I already know we’re sexually compatible,” she calls back, still puttering about in the bathroom. “And, hey, are you even listening to me?”

“Of course I am,” Chrissy grumbles, sending an annoyed glare at the open door, even though she can’t see Heather from around the corner. “You can’t hang out with Billy, Tommy, or Robin because of your job.”

“Okay, good. But, yeah. At least I talked them down from making me intern at dad’s office. Could you imagine? Yuck.”

Chrissy giggles.

“You’re ridiculous. So, where are you working instead, again?”

“The pool. That’s the only place I can work and actually keep my credibility. Robin said goodbye to any social credit she had the second she put on that sailor suit. I’m just not sure if I look good in red.”

“You look good in everything.”

Heather awws.

With a pen snatched from Heather’s bedside table, Chrissy prepares to fill out the quiz. Sure, she and Heather already know that they work and no silly quiz will make Chrissy doubt that, but it will still be fun to go through it—anything that lets her spend more time thinking about her girlfriend is good in her book.

“Heather, would you say your heart beats faster around me?”

“I feel like there’s a right answer to that.”

“So, should I just put ‘often’?” she says, already circling the answer.

“Sure, babes, sure.”

The song on the radio changes and Chrissy answers the next couple questions on the quiz. The pen she grabbed turns out to be a glittery blue gel pen. Actually, Chrissy thinks she may have left this here the last time she was around. 

Chrissy gets distracted by it for a moment, tapping the back of the pen against her lip in thought and she doesn’t realise Heather has gone suddenly quiet until she speaks up again. This time, Heather isn’t in the bathroom. Instead, she stands in the doorway to her room.

“So, what do you think? Is red my colour?”

“Huh?” Chrissy asks, looking up.

The sight that greets her has her freezing. 

Heather stands, one hand on her hip, in nothing but a red lifeguard swimsuit. The lifeguard logo is printed in contrasting white over her chest and Chrissy tries very hard to tear her eyes away from that. Not that looking away does her any favours.

She looks spectacular, the suit hugging her figure and looking bold and bright against the beginnings of her summer tan. Chrissy has seen Heather in further states of undress, but something about Heather in her lifeguard uniform has her staring more than before.

When she finally brings her eyes up to Heather’s face, the girl is grinning at her.

“That good, hm?”

“U-Um…”

Heather saunters forwards, a strut in her step that has her hips swaying enticingly. On anyone else Chrissy would find that blatant arrogance annoying, except this isn’t anyone else. This is Heather.

Her breath stutters on her next inhale as her eyes cling to her approaching girlfriend. 

“Not sure how well the orange will go with it,” Heather says, putting on a pretend pout and letting her whistle drop to hang from a raised hand by its orange lanyard. “Maybe you can model it for me?”

Chrissy scrambles to sit up, scooting over towards the edge of the bed. From there, Heather leans in and loops the fabric around her neck.

The thoughtful hum Heather gives is deceptively unbothered.

“Maybe I’m too far away to be sure.”

With that, she climbs onto the mattress and settles herself in Chrissy’s lap—Chrissy, who is fairly certain her heart is about to beat out of her chest. The best she can do is stare, hopelessly wide-eyed up at Heather, as the other girl lifts the whistle from where it fell to rest against Chrissy’s chest.

After a moment of inspecting it, she loops the fabric around her fist, pulling it taut against the back of Chrissy’s neck. It’s easy, from there, to use it to pull Chrissy in closer to her face.

“I like that I can use it for this,” Heather smirks, and then leans in to press their mouths together.

Chrissy lets out a trembling sigh and melts into the kiss, parting her lips obediently under Heather’s curious tongue. It’s hot, the air between them heating up as Heather slides in closer, coaxed by the hands Chrissy settles on her hips. Under her touch, Chrissy can feel the smooth synthetic material of her swimsuit.

God, Chrissy is never going to be able to go to the pool again, not with Heather wearing this. 

She squirms in place and feels the way Heather’s lips curl into a smirk as she feels it. It breaks the kiss enough for Heather to pull back.

“You’re cute,” she tells Chrissy as she gasps for breath.

“Oh my gosh,” Chrissy squeaks, mind still too stunned at the sight before her—in her lap—to come up with anything more intelligent to say.

Heather leans in, nips at Chrissy’s bottom lip, and gives another teasing tug at the lanyard around Chrissy’s neck.

“Do you still need to do that compatibility quiz?”

Chrissy’s hurried shake of her head earns Heather’s lips back on hers. She doesn’t think she could be more thankful that the Holloways aren’t home.

[gas-station-chai]

Tony Vargas Vs the World

So @multi-lefaiye and I have been cultivating another AU. Mashed TFTGS with Scott Pilgrim VS the World and got this beautiful Jantonio-centered mess :3 (with Tony as Scott Pilgrim and Jack as Ramona Flowers)

First evil Ex: Karl Thomas:

Jack’s first ex is the one who’s super easy to defeat (like a mini-boss) so he doesn’t really matter. I’ll make him Jack’s first stalker from vol 2, Karl Thomas (the guy who had a shrine of jack and his missing socks and hair clippings in his trailer). Jack and he dated for like a week or two in middle school, but Jack interpreted “you’re my partner now!” for “let’s pair up on this project” and didn’t realize Karl’s intentions until the project was over and he kept hanging around him. Karl's still stalking him in this au too and Tony ‘defeats’ him easily in battle… with a gun (/hj)

Second evil Ex: Benji:

Next ex on the list is Benji! “Jack, what the hell! This guy’s huge!!” “What can I say? I like guys that are bigger than me.” “Everyone is bigger than you!” “Haha yeah” (Battle ideas: Hunting? Either each other or things in the forest. Or hunting each other in the forest)

Third "evil" Ex: Rosa Vasquez:

Third ex is Rosa <8 “Hi, Jack!” Rosa waves excitedly at Jack, who waves back with a friendly smile.  Tony: “Oh, what? She doesn’t seem so bad, why’s she on your ‘evil ex’ list?” Jack: “Yeah, Rosa’s not so bad. We still hang out once in a while! The weird, Dark God possessing her, on the other hand…” Tony: “The wha--” Tony’s interrupted by the giant tree root hand that snatches him up and drags him into a fight with the now possessed!Rosa

Fourth and Fifth evil Exs: Brick Roscoe x2 (Xavier’s idea <8)

Jack dated one of the brick roscoes for a few months, probably shortly before Jack left for college. He never actually found out that there were two of them and that they were identical twins until much later, because neither of them ever said anything. basically they both just kinda gaslighted jack for a while and each dated him while he thought he only had one boyfriend. he broke things off with both of them when he found out (which happened when the bricks messed up and forgot to coordinate their schedules so they'd never both be in the room with jack at the same time. offering him a threesome did not make him feel better about the whole thing.) In terms of the battle, I think playing up the identical twin thing would be fun. probably a bit predictable, but y'know.

Tony: oh god which one do i fucking shoot Jack: SHOOT THEM BOTH

i think a fun tie-in with this would be like. early in jack and Tony's relationship, Jack asks him if he has a twin, and Tony says no, and Jack says "oh thank god."

Tony: Why'd you ask?? Jack: Uh. don't worry about it.

Sixth evil Ex: Jerry Pascal

6th ex is Jerry :D They dated in college and Jack really liked him until he started getting interested in this new cult that started warping his mind. Jack had to break things off when Jerry wouldn’t stop insisting on him joining so they could “put a stop to all the world’s suffering together,” whatever that meant. (battle idea: battle of wits? Tony thinks it’ll be a piece of cake because this guy acts dumber than a rock. Ends up getting his ass kicked kahoot style)

Seventh evil Ex: Spencer (Fucking) Middleton

7th evil ex is the one and only Spencer Middleton! Jack’s most recent (and most evil) ex of them all. Jack won’t even talk about why they broke up, so Tony assumes it’s really bad. He does tell him that it was his most recent breakup, though, and they’d been dating for a few years after meeting at one of his part time jobs. Spencer's probably the one who orchestrated the whole "League of Evil Exes" thing just to piss off Jack and make his (dating) life a living hell. (Battle idea: fistfight!!!)

feel free (please do) drop suggestions for how jack met/broke up with other exes (or any other trivia you'd wanna add)

[whumpcloud]

Tea With Honey

taglist: @suspicious-whumping-egg @gala1981 @whump-in-the-moonlight @ohwhumpydays @morning-star-whump

content: sickfic, fever, references to creepy/intimate whump, (lady) whumper forced to be caretaker, pills (painkillers)

Of course he caught it from Nicolas. Ophelia doesn't get why her brother is like that with Derian, and mostly she doesn't care, except that it means he won't leave Derian alone, and inevitably this was going to happen.

Except that Nicolas is tired and coughing, and Derian is feverish.

Nicolas snorts through the phone. "I spoiled you."

"Stop being a dick and-!" Ophelia lowers her voice when Derian whimpers. "Just tell me what to do."

"The internet is free."

"As if you would fucking know."

"I use email."

"I had to teach you how!"

"Not the point. You'll figure it out, baby sister."

He's lucky she can't see the smug, teasing smirk she knows is on his face. Ophelia groans in frustration and hangs up on him. Fine, she'll figure it out alone. She feels Derian pulling at her sleeve, whining softly, and it sounds piercing.

"Look, just-" Ophelia exhales. It's not his fault that he's sick. "Relax, okay? I'll get you some water."

Derian clutches at the blankets. He wants to peel off his sweat-coated skin, but more importantly he wants comfort, and in a state like this he can convince himself, just a little, that a pillow or a blanket is a person.

"Stop doing that, you're already overheating-" Ophelia almost growls at him when he tries to snatch the blankets back. "Give me-!"

"Please," Derian whispers, and it isn't even pathetic in a fun way. It's just pathetic. "Please, I d-don't care. Please, p-please."

"Jesus, fine." Ophelia feels… bad. Derian holds the blankets crushingly tight to his chest. "Come on, sit up."

She has to help him up, and it isn't as though she hasn't done it a dozen times, but it's so utterly pitiful that she can't bring herself to enjoy how weak he is.

His hands shake too much to hold the glass, so she sighs, but holds it to his mouth, and lets him tip as much as he can drink down his throat.

"Thanks," he mumbles.

"Stay like that," she says. "I'm gonna… figure out what to do."

"You… don't know?" Frowning hurts.

"Nicky deals with all this stuff!"

"L-Lower your voice, please," Derian rasps.

"Sorry."

Derian's head falls back against the headboard. He needs to think, as hard as it is, and presses his clammy hands to his face.

"Tylenol," he mumbles. "You've got some in the bathroom cabinet. White bottle with the red label."

Ophelia struggles with the child lock. It would be funnier if Derian wasn't desperate for some kind of pain relief. He can feel all his joints when he moves.

He swallows the pills dry, rubs his eyes, breathes out. "Thanks."

Ophelia fidgets. "Is there anything else I can do?"

Derian shakes his head, immediately regretting it when his vision swims. "Fuck."

"Can you walk?"

"If you'll hold me up." It's half a joke.

He didn't actually expect her to grab him under the arms and pull him to his feet. She takes no care dragging him down the stairs, his feet limply hitting every step on the way down. He just succumbs to this now. Even when Ophelia tries to be gentle, which is an oddly increasing amount as of late, she never quite manages it.

She sets him down on the sofa, and the sudden drop makes everything spin. The world feels like a sauna. He raises a hand to try to pull his sweat-damp hair from his skin, and can only weakly brush it back a little before he's overtaken by a coughing fit.

During it, Ophelia returns with the blankets, and tries to lay them over him. Derian doesn't have the energy to even wonder what she's doing when she disappears into the kitchen for a few minutes and comes back with a mug.

"It's tea," she says, holding it out to him. "With honey."

He eyes it.

"I haven't put anything else in it, if that's what you're thinking." She shakes it a little, and some of it spills over the side. "Take it."

It's warm, but a comforting warm, and Derian takes a small sip and holds it in his lap. He blearily watches Ophelia wrestle with the television, a banged-up thing so old that you could plug headphones into it, and then brush the dust from the DVD player.

"What are you doing?" Derian asks.

"Putting on a movie." Ophelia pulls one from the shelf. "Oh. Do you like action movies?"

"They're okay."

"Cool." She shoves it into the player. "It's my favourite movie. Nicky always made me tea with honey and watched it with me when I got sick."

"Is… is this you trying to be nice?" Derian sips the tea again, to keep down the coughs.

Ophelia gives a very non-committal shrug. Is she trying to be nice? She feels bad for him, but on some level it's only because she isn't the one hurting him. If she had gotten sick and he'd caught it, she'd probably laugh at him.

Derian knows that too. But frankly, he doesn't mind. Her awkward arm around his shoulder is better than nothing. Better than Nicolas.

"You're going to spill it," Ophelia says.

Derian tips the mug the other way, hands still shaking, and resolves to just lean down to drink instead of lifting the mug up.

[wild-houseplant]

WIP Wednesday

It’s Wednesday, right? Somewhere, if not here?

It’s been a while since I dove into any of that stuff, so I thought I’d show a little bit of the story of Tank (Hawke, Rhodri’s older cousin). I haven’t a clue who tagged me last in their WIPs, apologies, so I’ll just nab a few of ya :D @heniareth , @strixgirl , @ollifree , @siriskulksnerding , @badartxd , @scribbledquillz , @atypicalacademic . If your name isn’t here, it’s been written in invisible ink (you’re still tagged, please show me your things I love them @D@ )

Without further ado, I present Tank and Screwy the Mabari (feat. cousin Rhodri!), replete with Australian dialect, as absolutely nobody but my dickhead self intended UuU

§

In the toothless heat of the Fereldan summer afternoon, Tancred Hawke shoves their sleeves back up their arms and feels more satisfied than they will for exactly one year. 

They've been washing Carver's things since mid-morning. Their fingers are icy and waterlogged, and the creek bed they're doing the wash in is nearly dry, but they've decided it's a good day and that's the end of it.

Screw's close by, more than earning her namesake as she damn near bores a hole in the ground chasing her tail. She twists and winds her way over to where Tank's working. Whenever she draws too close, Tank startles her out of her whirlwind with a bark, laughs like a fool, and then plasters a kiss on her head, and the dog feels forgiven enough to start up again. Spin-bark-kiss. Spin-bark-kiss.

Once the last shirt's scrubbed to Mother's impossible standards, Tank rises with the basket of wet clothes on their hip. There’s barely a hip to rest it on, but it’ll do ‘til they’re home. 

"Screw? Screwy. Can y’-?" They freeze as the spinning dog nearly knocks into their knees and sends the laundry every-bloody-where. "Orright, keep orbiting, then. Hang a right when you pass our house."

Screwy straightens up, watching expectantly. Tank scratches their head with a free hand and nods at the path up ahead. “You comin'?”

Screw barks. Tank chuckles. “That’d be about right.”

The fifteen-minute journey from the creek to home passes through the forest and the outskirts of Lothering. This time of the year, the birdsong is deafening, and the leaves glow like praise. No mud, no snow, and, most importantly, no hidden tree roots to stumble over. If there was a spell to draw out summer, Tank might have taken an interest in magic after all. 

On the edge of the Lothering town square, with the Chantry needling into the corner of their eye, Tank catches the gaze of a frowning, dark-haired mage, and stops dead. The frowner looks over at her; Tank’s washing basket falls to the ground. 

'R?' They thump the sign over their heart. 'R? R? R?' 

She’s gaping, lurching into a run toward them with three other people and a dog in tow. Tank's already bawling by the time they’re snatched into an embrace.

"I don't believe it," Rhodri’s voice is a whisper by their ear. "Oh, Tank. Hello."

[thecrookedwriterspath]

Thank you for the tag @sabels-small-sphere ! I'm excited to poke at my dragon story peeps again so we will be visiting that realm today~ The random wheel hath chosen Almyra! My main dragon character. :D

I shall tag @sarah-sandwich-writes, @pure-solomon, and @ashley-woods! If you would like to do this as well please feel free!

Questions and wip tag list under cut.

1) Are you named after anyone

Yeah! Great grandmum. Never met her but heard she was a riot. They shouldn't have known better than to name me after her if they didn't want me to be the same, ha.

2) When was the last time you cried

Prooobably when I broke my wing- I MEAN- no I don't.

3) Do you have kids

ExCUSE YOU, I'm not even 80. I mean I SUPPOSE it's not impossible, but who has time for kids when I've got to keep the elders on their claws?

4) Do you use sarcasm

I'd never ;3

5) What's the first thing you notice about people

Scale color, then how their horns look. Some dragons just don't even try to be presentable and it's sad.

6) What's your eye color

Take a look, the icy blue is sure something, isn't it?

7) Scary movies or happy endings?

I like a good scare now and then, preferably giving one myself haha.

8) Any special talents

Getting on nerves. :)

9) Where were you born?

Silver Peak, ironically, ha. Hadn't seen a white dragon in 2 generations yet here I am.

10) What are your hobbies

Annoying others. Helping my younger cousin (he needs what he can get). Push boundaries a bit more than I should. No I'm not going to call learning clan politics a hobby it bores me but I have to for my father. My cousin is better suited for that.

11) Have you any pets

Hmm... no? I mean, there's been this human coming by who hasn't tried to kill me... and he's so jumpy heheheh...

12) What sports do you play/have you played

Snatch! Someone flies up real high with a decent sized rock or tree or something and drops it, and you wait to try and snatch it from the air later than the people before you. The closer to the ground, the more impressive. I've only crashed doing that twice~

13) How tall are you

... 12 feet. Yes I'm a LITTLE SHORT but my wingspan makes up for it and so does my humor.

14) Favorite subject in school

Definitely flying styles.

15) Dream job

LOUNGING IN THE SUN

Dragons and Kingdoms tag list: @surroundedbypearls, @pure-solomon, @sabels-small-sphere, @ink-flavored, @tate-lin

[kaytrawrites]

The Book

Summary In which Ranboo and Scott discuss The Book. Phil is also there

Notes Consider this a bit of a pre-warning. From this point on, osmp!Ranboo will be behaving a bit more sassy/arrogantly than previously, to be consistent with the character that he has so far displayed in Season 2 of Origins SMP.

Story

Scott scanned the bookshelf, looking at the old books that Ranboo had collected.

He paused at a leather bound book that had no title. It looked like a journal. Scott picked up the book and saw the words ‘do not read’ engraved on the front.

“Did you mean to leave this out?“ He asked the Enderian.

“Hm?” Ranboo said, his attention focused on the furnace. “Oh that thing?“ he waved a hand dismissively. “It was an interesting read. Feel free to read it. If you can.“

Scott snorted and opened to the first page. His eyes crossed at seeing the strange language on the page. “What is this?“ He exclaimed.

“Ender.” Ranboo stated. “Of course you wouldn’t know.” He scoffed.

“Then maybe his highness should teach me.” Scott said sarcastically.

The rustling of feathers at the entrance to Ranboo’s cave drew their attention. “Hi mate.“ Phil drawled as he landed. “Ranboo, I got the iron you wanted.“ He dug into his bag.

Ranboo nodded. “Just put it over there.“ He pointed towards where Scott stood.

“Hi mate.“ Phil said, nodding to Scott.

“Hi Phil.“ Scott replied. He looked down at the journal in his hand and flipped through a few of the pages, trying to spot a word or two that he recognized.

“Oh! Ender!“ Phil said.

Scott glanced up from the book. “You can read this?“

Ranboo‘s hand snatched the book from Scott. “Mine.“ He snapped.

“Rude.“ Scott said.

Phil chuckled, “Oh, let it be, Scott.“

Scott sighed and shook his head. “You ready to go, Phil?“

“Yeah.“

“Good. Stay out of my stuff.“ Ranboo grumbled.

“Somebody’s a bit crabby.“ Scott chuckled. He and Phil left, leaving Ranboo alone in his cave.

Ranboo glared after the two, and only after a few minutes had passed did he relax. He glanced down at the book in his hands. It was a terrifying recount.

The inner workings of a halfling’s mind that was slowly going mad from the Enderwalk State and being unable to integrate with it. Truly terrifying. He had heard the horror stories from the elders, but to see them written down by a child no older than he was now, it was absolutely chilling.

Every pure born Enderian child experienced the Enderwalk State early, and had their parents and elders to teach them how to integrate with it properly. But this abandoned halfling child did not seem to have ever been taught how.

Ranboo tucked the book back onto the shelf, and turned back to the furnace. The knowledge within the pages was shuffled to the back of his mind, focusing on the now rather than the distant past.

Ranboo paused. He turned back to the shelf and picked up the journal and opened the front cover. His finger ran over the ender letters that spelled out '⍀⏃⋏⏚⍜⍜ ⏁⊑⟒ ⏚⟒⌰⍜⎐⟒⎅'*. Every Enderian knew those letters. They spelled out one of the many the names of the Ancient Mad Sire of The Empire.

As far as the elders knew, there had been very few records of the time before the empire was formed. Especially of the Sire’s past.

The Sire was both feared and respected, and only a select few were given one of their names. Ranboo was one of the lucky few. Of course, perhaps it was due to his mother being a direct descendent of The Sire, and his mom possessing a great many achievements from the battlefield, resulting in them being able to name their child whatever they desired.

Ranboo chuckled and closed the book. The book was probably planted by one of his peers to try to screw with him. Jealous little brats, the lot of them.

He placed the book back on the shelf and returned to his smelting.

-oOo-

Notes *Translation: Ranboo the Beloved Fun Fact: when I first wrote this, I used voice-to-text for Google Docs. I am pleased with the result! :D

[theghostofwilburtheworm]

hi hello ghost thank you for enabling me anyway i’m gonna talk you about my favorite guy ever Ray!!!

so general information that’s important: he’s between the ages of 19-23, i do not like giving my characters actual ages bc that’s way too much work anyway, he works in The Council, which is a government facility specifically made for killing demons/soul eaters, hes pretty far up in the council (they work in ranks and stuff), he is in a qpr with another of my characters called soren and they live together, also ray is very close to his family

Ray is such a fucked up guy and i love him for it, he’s sooo naive and childish and stupid and before the story even starts manages to fuck up so bad he gets his demon killing license revoked (that’s not something that happens often at all) but he tries his best!!!! the specific reason why he got his license revoked is not very fun (lots of death) so idk if i should get into it but i hope you don’t mind if i don’t specify

His story actually revolves around the disappearance of a ton of people which the higher ups are trying so hard to cover up, as they slowly uncover more and more information the government tries it hardest for them to stop and i soemthing i really want to do if i ever write this is at the start portray the council as something beautiful that’s out there to help other and slowly become this jail ray cant escape, it’s also really bad for him bc not even soren trusts him when he tells him something bad was happening :D!! i have so many notes on the structure of the council and how it works but i think i would take soooo long actually explaining everything, i actually call his story the main story of the demon world bc i have multiple stories within the same world and this one is were you learn the most about how everything works and it makes me so happy, feel free to ask me about anything :O!!

ooooooh thats soooo coool!!1 i find the world so interestig1!!1 iremember i read a couple of posts of yours about that most of ur ocs where in this world (?) does monica's story also take place in this world?? :OOO also ray sounds lovely!! i would like to know more about his relationships with his queer platonic partner soren! or about soren in general their relatonship sounds very interesting!1! also is there some kind of category in wich demons are split?? like are some demons that are harder to deal with, are demons sentient'????' do they interact like humans?? are they a higer power beyond comprehension?? or are they more like animals?? (or all of the above abdjhb) also!1 id like to know how the council works if u dont mind dbahjbad i really like how u r picturing the council, like id some kind of man made cosmic horror, if they are even human, are the council human?? how does the lisence thing works? do they have to go through some kind of training to get their licesnes or they just snatch sum people from the street that they think are capable of handling the work of killing demons?? are the demons involved in the desapearence of people??? and is it bc of fuck ups from part of the council, OH or are the COUNCIL involved in the dissapearence and thats why they are trying to encover it so hard, is soren a demon hunter under the council and that's why he doesn't believe ray???? aaa so sorry if these are a lot of questios khkbdjhbsjh ur world seems very very cool aa PLEASE FEEL FREE TO ONLY AWNSER THE ONES U LIKE THE MOST JKJBJH :'D