#impulse dying first every round PLEASE

[brick-rolled]

so uh TIES skybattle 😇😇

[rosemarysndthyme]

✞ The Summer of Ravenswood Manor: A Haunting Tale ✞

Honey Dreary moves the desolate town of Angels' Creek in the Midwest, desperately trying to escape her troubled past. Unexpectedly she becomes entranced by the mysterious and brooding owner of a rundown mansion on the edge of town, Ravenswood Manor. The two begin a tumultous romance as she begins to uncover the dark secrets of his past.

Character Moodboards here

Chapter 1: Milk, Honey, Harmony

Considering Jesus died almost two thousand years ago in sanction for our sins, seems he had failed. At least in Honey Dreary's eyes.

The trees in this dismal town seemed to howl and shriek, their brittle bare branches reaching out like bony fingers, waiting to pick and pluck every morsel of life from its residents. Often things would vanish. Cars were parked and never to be seen again. Small children would wander off from their parents, never to return.

Honey, in her cherry red 1967 Ford Mustang raced down the road, blazing a fiery red trail to a new beginning. With a Marlboro gold hanging from her opulent cherry lips, and the wind in her hair, it was enough to distract her from a possible grave mistake. No, she wouldn't let herself admit she'd made an impulsive decision, upping and leaving her old apartment in the city in the middle of the night. Not telling anyone where she was going or for how long and with no plans of a job. As her mother always said ‘every cloud has a silver lining’. She'd found an ad for an old chapel converted into apartments, using what little savings she had on the small deposit and gathering the rest for her first months rent. She decided the rest would work it’s self out. The apartment had a pretty little porch out front for her to sit out and read, smoke or play her vintage Billie Holiday vinyl. If nothing else, that would be this cloud’s silver lining. She was looking forward to an escape from her previous city life, one where she could do as she pleased without the torments of being a city girl in her 20s, or the ever-looming disapproval of her family.

Angels' Creek was a sleepy rundown Midwestern town. A place that was no one’s destination and not even somewhere you’d be passing through. It was surrounded by open fields of forest and farmland. Honey had chosen it for its lazy hazy atmosphere, now closing in on her late twenties , she decided a more tame lifestyle was due. There definitely wasn’t much in the way of modern amenities or entertainment. From what she could make out, the town had one singular main road that ran from one end of town, Angels’ Entrance, to the other, Ravenswood End. She lived at the far end, like a guilty child banished to a dark corner. The street was littered with tattered shops: Daisy's Diner, The Cloudy Laundrette, Pembrooke Supermarket, and somewhere called Ray's. All are in need of a good refurbishment, their lit up signs flickering and dying, as was the life from this town. There was a heavy sense of faded glory, with the town's best days behind it, the barren remnants sit gathering dust in the middle of a vast plain of deathly trees.

Honey's tyres screeched as she pulled up to her new apartment. Flicking what was left of her cigarette onto the pavement, she takes off her sunglasses and adjusts her windswept blonde hair in the rear-view mirror, as she leans over to the passenger seat to gather her bags before grounding her wedged heel onto the pavement. Her perpetual hazy cloud of cigarette smoke, amaretto perfume, and bad decisions, pervaded the air around her.

A sweaty outstretched palm startled her, 'Miss Dreary' a voice spoke before she'd hardly put her other foot down on the pavement. She shifted her gaze up drinking in the sight, brown trousers, starched shirt, round bald head with friendly overly enthusiastic blue eyes. ‘Mr Bluebell. I’m your new landlord.’ Honey grasped his hand, using it to hoist herself up from the drivers seat bringing her to eye level with her new landlord. ‘My gosh! What a beautiful car you have. Must be a 1974.’

‘It’s actually a '67.’

‘Yes. Of course. You’re correct. Anyway. Would you like me to show you inside? Your particular apartment is named ‘Garden of Eden’ …controversial these days. ’ Mr Bluebell turns around with Honey on his tail… she guesses he’ll offer to help with her bags after the tour. ‘I bought this property years ago now. It was a derelict church before I had the idea to convert it into quaint little apartments.' It was an insult to call it an 'apartment' really, she thought.

Mr Bluebell continues... 'The previous owners weren’t too fond of the idea, but they came around once they saw how much I was offering! You have the ground floor, it’s cosy with excellent bones, well lit in the mornings with east-facing windows.’ They pass the sweet white porch before entering the small living room with a kitchenette attached. ‘This is your living space, as you can see it comes with a sofa, and a TV cabinet.’ The ‘sofa’ he was referring to was more of an armchair, and the ‘TV cabinet’ was a single television plonked on the floor in front of said ‘sofa.’

He leads her down a narrow hallway. ‘Down here is your bedroom. And to the left is your bathroom.’ They come to a halt in front of a large window overlooking the street opposite. Mr Bluebell quickly snatches a glance out before snapping his head back into place. ‘I’ll leave you now to settle down and get comfortable,’ he huffs. The middle-aged man makes his way back to the front door, still rambling on. He comes to an abrupt stop. He leans uncomfortably close to Honey’s uninterested face. ‘I will say, be wear. Of the Manor on the hill. Strange things happen in Angles’ Creek. Just… be careful.’ His serious demise reverts back to his usual friendly cheerfulness. ‘Toodaloo! You can always find me at Ray’s,’ with no more than a wiggle of his chubby fingers he nearly vanished from Honey’s porch.

She wasn't even sure exactly which manor he was talking about. All she could see were brittle twigs for miles in the bleak distance. But. There was a murky grey space, what looked to be an opening in the whispering trees. If she squinted hard enough, yes, there was a tattered house in the distance. One that combined a lavish art deco style with 1950s Americana brilliance. There were holes in the brickwork that looked to be poorly boarded over with scraps of rotting wood. The old hanging porch lights, once a crystal shiny glass, now swung smashed from its socket. A gate of exquisite design once stood guarding the house and its glory is now ripped off its hinges lazily swinging and creaking with the wind's force.

Retrieving her suitcase and what little belongings she brought with her from her car, Honey begins to unpack. With interior design not being her strong suit, her judgement told her the framed Elvis photograph looked best on the already dusty glass shelf in the bathroom, ironically. Her American flag was pinned above her bed in all its failing glory. The small vintage trinkets she considered her prized possessions: a little bone China jewellery dish with hand-painted pink roses, a porcelain doll her grandmother gave her for her first birthday, and a wooden box of teeth she found in an antique shop. All neatly placed on her brown dressing table in front of the infamous east facing window. The cramped structure left no room for any kind of wardrobe, meaning her few items of clothing had to be hung off the end of the cream curtain pole, supporting the flimsy mesh lace curtains that provided a very minuscule amount of privacy. She supposed in a run down town like this, not enough goes on for her to need more modesty.

The crinkle of her cardboard cigarette carton simmered off the walls as she fished one out to light between her supple lips. That’s how quiet Angles’ Creek was. How drab, how dull, how dismal. Not even the sound of footsteps from passers by, nor a car engine. Only the howling wind. Honey wanted quiet, and that’s what she got. The urge to fill an unfamiliar void of anonymity had her unpacking her record player to put on ‘I Call My Baby Pussycat’ by The Funkadelic. Leaning back on her new bed, she’d stripped herself of her plaid miniskirt and wedged heels, left in only her soft white thong that read ‘rockstars only’ across the front and a white lace tank top. She decided to unwind with the one of the only ways she knew how. Slipping her fingers into the front of her knickers, thinking thoughts of James Dean in ‘Rebel Without a Cause’, and Marlon Brando sweaty in a wifebeater. Her brain and body was nothing but oozing chocolate pudding and sticky melted marshmallow- a tapping on her window drew her out of her dreamland and anchored her down into reality. She padded over to see where the sound was coming from, expecting it to be that annoying old man again, just to find it was nothing but a tree branch blowing in the wind. So dead and bony, making a sound akin to dry fingers tapping and scraping at glass. No one was there. Not a soul in sight.

The old manor atop the hill in the distance caught her attention once again. A yellowish light bulb now glowed through one of the second-floor windows, right at the top of the house, beneath the deteriorating roof. It was almost as if a deathly shadowy figure created a colossal silhouette. If she squinted, the figure had a pale face. One of a handsome gentlemen, younger than she would expect of a manor so old. Stood there in nothing but a lacy vest top, nipples hard and protruding, and her knickers. An ominous figure of broad stature remains staring back at her.

[put-me-in-a-movie-mp3]

Hi I am not sure if you still do ships....But yeah if you are still doing can you do for stranger things, Harry Potter, IT, twilight ,Wednesday,Marvel and Percy Jackson maybe? I know it's a lot but ....PLEASE

I don't exactly know who to ship with so ...

Appearance: I have big round brown eyes and hair just below the upper back .. I am 5,1 with lean or nearly fit hourglass figure and have South Indian brown skin tone.....blackish brown hair and oval face and I have a lot of moles (the one near the eyebrow is like signature mole maybe) and scars (Mostly from fighting with my bro...it tens to get violent 😭😭) .....I have small hands and small feet...

Personality: Typical INFJ....I prefer to be alone but when I was supposed to interact with others I get extroverted... And I don't shy away from making new friends or talking to strangers.....Basically an ambivert ..I am very bold and confident about myself....loves adventures and challenges like bungee jumping and risking my life ......sometimes impulsive......tend to be talkative and like to annoy the people I like....And I am VERY LOYAL.......And expect the same from others too .....Yeah it's a lot to expect..... And I am basically like boyish things (According to fellow strangers) like MARVEL,video games,anime ..... I like K-pop too..........I like to learn and try new things..

Likes: MUSIC(CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT IT) ...mostly K-pop ,emo rock,pop,and melody songs...,Ice cream, Cats(I can't live without cats), chocolate ,food(I am a sucker for chicken fried rice) ,sleep, read(Obviously 🙄) ,dance , sing, draw,...

Dislike: Not very loyal people,Cheaters, Bullies, Beetroot, rude people

And I tend to be good at everything I do...like I am top in my studies,can draw,paint,dance,sing,etc.. and I am very passionate and driven towards my goals and anything I DO

Hogwarts house: Gryffindor...(A close call with Slytherin)

Favorite color: It changes every 6 years but always black 🖤, and currently I am in my Blue 💙 phase

Can you make me one ?

Its been a hot ass minute, but I am back and deciding to finish the requests! <3

Stranger Things: Eddie Munson <3

Now by far, I would have to say he is perfect for you. I mean perfect. Let's be real, he would be obsessed with you. Eddie talks a lot, you talk a lot, which is great. You both match each others energy perfectly. You both love the same bands and wear almost all black. At school, you guys stand out. Mostly because you guys are the only couple wearing all black to school (everyday). You guys would happen to find a stray cat somewhere and you would beg him to let you keep. Eddie, not being able to say no to you. Obviously says yes. It would be a black kitten that you guys name Raven. Another thing is at school, you hate Billy Hargrove. You despise him, mostly because he is known for being a cheater, but also because he is just a prick. If he were to ever mess with your friends or god forbidden Eddie, all hell will break loose.

Harry Potter: Fred Weasley

Fred is a goofball that just so happens to fall in love with you. Partially because you match his energy as well. You both love to pull pranks on people and be goofy all the time. At the great hall when you guys are eating, you are loud and laughing and you get everyone to join in the conversation. At the end of the meal, everyone at the table is dying laughing. Partially because Fred thought it would be a good idea to start a food fight. His target being the one and only Draco Malfoy. You and Fred love to watch movies together, stargaze, and take adventures around Hogwarts (mostly after hours when your not suppose to be out of your dorms).

Twilight: Seth Clearwater

You and Seth were unsure of each other first. Or at least he was unsure of you. Everyone in his life is older and serious, he is still in high school trying to figure everything out. Trying to live a normal life while there are a bunch of vampires going batshit. You and him find each other and guys are each others peace. He makes you feel so safe and you're always there to comfort him. He is confused on where his life is going and doesn't have a good family to connect with. You are his home and he adores everything about you.

Wednesday: Enid Sinclair

You and Enid match each others personalities so well. Enid never really met someone that is an exact replica of herself. The confidence, talkativeness, kindness, and someone that is actually funny. You two are a power couple. There is never a dull moment. You would naturally be there for Enid 110%. Since she has had a hard time becoming full werewolf, you are always there to comfort her through it since it has been her biggest insecurity. You make her feel so special and loved like she never has. You constantly measure that everything will be okay. Enid definitely goes out of her way to give you flowers and stick sweet little notes that you find throughout you day. She is defiantly a romantic and ever since Ajax, she was heartbroken. You completely fixed her.

[cheesus-doodles]

Parents don't approve of your friendship with Baji HCs

‎have anyone noticed everything is now just indulgent brainrot content? not me at least - baji is baby and also not baby literally just 🤡🤡 what has my life become my baji

‎

tw: none

Masterlist

your parents most likely found out that Baji is a delinquent who has impulse control issues 

or in other words Baji probably beat a kid down the street from both your houses who had made fun of your outfit and the kid’s mum came to complain to your parents 🤡

welp turns out that kid recognized you from somewhere so its ultimately your fault

no matter how sweet a kid he is, ya know parents will be parents

even if you argue that he was beat that kid cause the kid was bullying you and that Baji wouldn’t lay a hand on you - and probs that yall have already been friends for years?? like bruh

parents will still do the whole “bad influence in your life” routine, which you return an eyeroll and try to leave

nope - grounded 🤡🤡 why are you doing this to yourself??

tries to make you promise to break your friendship with Baji and “focus on your study like a good kid” for them to lift the grounding early but you refuse to say anything and just take the whole thing in stride

Baji has been round to ask about you multiple times, but your parents refused to let him see you

Baji uses puppy-eyes, it was slightly effective 

not effective enough to let him in though

so he just climbed the tree outside your house and jumped through your window to hang out with you

very careful to hide his presence and leave before he is discovered - turns out he had a ton of practice because he never got caught

you think that you might have died of old age by the time your parents let you go

please play up Baji’s good points as much as possible whenever you can 🙏🙏

you start to shoehorn into every conversation about Baji being a good boy at school and studying hard, and haven’t been a fight for ages

swore to Baji the next day that you were really wearing them down - anytime now

you make sure to make a show of walking to school everyday with him - the nice, smart kid

who, Baji? a delinquent? you must have gotten the wrong man

still hang out with him outside and at his house though - baby boy can’t not hang out with you

you dyed your hair without Baji’s or your parent’s knowledge in a show of solidarity with Baji and in defiance of your parents

parents nearly got a heart attack when you came back after school with differently colored hair

Baji got a heart attack as well - nearly punched you in the face because you looked so much like a delinquent with that colored hair from the corner of his eye

probs got grounded again for that 🤡

he is super happy that you’re fighting so hard to remain friends with him though even if he doesnt say it out loud

will actually try and put in the effort to study hard and not to fight (just for now though - you know its not going to last long term)

will turn up at your house with books in his arms, his hair tied back, and his stupid glasses on his face

you 100% laughed the first time you saw those glasses - looks like a nerd 

nerd Baji is still baby inside tho, if you laugh at him too much he might cry

please don’t laugh at him he’s trying his best 🙏

every time either of your parents came up to deliver snacks and drinks, will find the two of you actually studying

Baji finds that his results has improved quite a bit by the end of this - he might actually pass this year 💯💯

Baji’s mum is of course super happy about this - secretly glad that he got into that fight but will never say it out loud

your parents eventually just give in and accepted Baji

right after this Baji just goes straight back to whatever he has been doing previously

does have slightly better impulse control though bless this baby boy 🙏🙏🙏

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

I give you a lot of angsty requests, so here, have a fluffy one!

Among Us: Through some glitch, a round generates with no impostors. For the first little while everyone is really on edge and trying to accuse each other, but they soon realize that nobody is dying and relax, although they're still very confused. Everybody does their tasks as normal, but instead of completing the last task, they all build a big pillow fort under the admin table and just take a rest for a little bit, hanging out and laughing over previous games and just being together without the tension of possible death and betrayal over their heads. Many stories are told, many "bodies" of friends knocked over in pillow fights are "reported", and many memories are made, before they finally decide to end the round! 💙

okay so this request was MEGA detailed so i didn’t get to every single part of it but i hope this is just as good lol

also bring on the angst I DARE YOU /lh

…

A weird feeling in his stomach, Etho presses the emergency meeting button, teleporting everybody to the table. Once everyone is assembled, Etho realises something strange.

“Okay, there’s been no deaths,” he says slowly.

“Wh- Seriously?!” Tango gasps. “That round lasted, like, twenty YEARS! Half the tasks have been done!”

Etho frowns. “Nobody’s seen anything suspicious, or…? No venting?”

Everybody shakes their heads.

“Okay… I guess we’ll skip, then. Everyone keep an eye out, though.”

When the meeting comes to an end, Etho trots after Tango as the latter heads towards weapons. “Hey, Tango? Does something seem a little off about this round to you?”

“Yeah. We’re a bunch of idiots who can barely play this game on a good day - except you, of course,” he adds, “but it’s definitely weird that we went that long without a single kill. The imposters must be really slow for some reason.”

Etho considers this. “Maybe. I’m not convinced.”

He leaves Tango’s side and peels off into navigation as Tango keeps going. After finishing his download, he goes back up and does his task in O2, before heading back to cafeteria to finish wires.

After this, he realises there still hasn’t been a body reported so he catches Astro as the latter enters cafeteria. “Hey, Astro. Can you hit the button for me?”

“Oh, sure.”

Astro presses the emergency meeting button, bringing everyone back to the table. Etho’s suspicions are confirmed when he sees that everybody is still alive.

“Okay, I’m sorry to call you back here, but we need to talk,” Etho says. “There’s something wrong with this round and we may have to abandon it.”

“What do you mean?” Skizz asks confusedly. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s been over three minutes and there’s been no kills or sabotages. I apologise if I’m not correct, but I just have a feeling that there’s something wrong. If you’re the imposter, please raise your hand now.”

Nobody moves.

“This isn’t a trick,” Etho adds. “I’m sorry if I’m ruining someone’s imposter round, but I’m genuinely a little concerned that the game has gone wrong.”

“I’ll support you on that,” says Tango. “Etho knows about this stuff. If he’s worried about the game glitching out, I’ll take that seriously. I’m not the imposter, but if anyone else is, I’d advocate coming forward just to make sure nothing’s wrong.”

After a moment, a chorus of murmurs comes from the others, all confirming that none of them are the imposter.

“Okay, so it seems the game has glitched and generated a round with no imposters somehow,” Etho says. “No need to panic; if we all finish our tasks and win the round, it should take us back to the lobby like normal.”

“But do we have to do that, though?” asks Impulse. “Tasks are almost done and there’s no imposters, so why don’t we just hang out a bit, without the threat of death?”

“I’m down for that,” says Endless unexpectedly. “I’ve always wanted to build a pillow fort in admin. The table looks perfect for it.”

“You mean out of pillows like these?” Joker holds up a pillow that he seemingly pulled from out of nowhere. “Hey, Skizz?”

Skizz turns. “What’s u-”

Joker whacks him in the face with the pillow.

“GAAAH!” Skizz shrieks, tripping over his own foot. “What the hell?!”

Clutching the pillow by its corner, Joker doubles over with laughter. “Oh my gosh, your FACE!”

“Okay, that’s it. Imposter or no imposter, I’m gonna murder you.”

Skizz snatches the pillow out of Joker’s hand and swings it at him, but Joker dodges and takes off running down the hallway towards storage, giggling like a child. Unable to help a laugh of his own, Skizz pursues him.

“Where did he even get that?” snickers Tango.

“Same place I got mine,” Endless says, holding up an identical white pillow. “Medbay.”

Brody tries to hold in a laugh. “Endless, I’ll give you a high five if you hit Tango with that pillow right now.”

Endless considers this for a moment.

Tango gives him a warning look. “Don’t. Endless, I swear to-.”

He cuts himself off and ducks as Endless swings the pillow at him, but before he can do it again, Endless brings it back round and whacks him in the side of the head, causing him to let out a yelp.

Laughing uncontrollably, Brody holds up his hand for a high five, which Endless gleefully gives him. “I like this,” he says happily. “I feel cool.”

“Endless, you’re starting something you can’t finish,” Tango warns.

“Then you finish it,” says Impulse unexpectedly, appearing out of nowhere to hand Tango a pillow of his own.

A grin slowly spreads over Tango’s face.

Endless blinks. “Oh. I’m in trouble.”

On the other side of the room, Etho glances sharply over as he hears a THWACK sound and finds Tango and Endless whacking each other viciously with pillows. He chuckles to himself and continues looking through the game’s code.

After a while, Brody approaches him. “Hey Etho, we’re gonna go build a pillow fort in admin. You should come join us.”

“Thanks, but I gotta work through this code.”

“You can do that in the lobby later. C’mon, we’ve got a once-in-a-lifetime thing here. This glitch will probably never happen again. Let’s have some fun on this map while we have the chance.”

After a moment, Etho nods and lets Brody take him into admin, where Mrs Tango and Astro are already piling cushions in the middle of the room.

“Is this what we do when we think the game might’ve gone wrong?” Etho chuckles. “Build pillow forts?”

“I mean, we may as well,” Brody responds. “Right? What else can we do?”

“Finish our tasks and end the round.”

“Where’s the fun in that, though?” says Astro from the floor.

As Etho opens his mouth to respond, Joker bursts into the room and dives behind Etho, who spins round to find Skizz skidding to a halt outside admin. “Where is he?!” he snaps, panting heavily. “I’m gonna kill that idiot!”

“What’s going on?” Brody demands. “Who are you talking about?”

“JOKER! He said my mohawk looks like a dead bush!”

Relaxing, Brody rolls his eyes. “Oh no. How terrible. He’s a MONSTER. We’d better throw him out the airlock right now.”

“Sarcasm duly noted,” Skizz huffs. “Where IS Joker, anyway?”

Brody jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “Hiding under the admin table.”

“Brodyyyyy!” comes Joker’s muffled voice.

Skizz walks into the room and takes note of the group of people setting up the pillows and blankets over the top of the admin table. “So what’s going on here? Boy scout sleepover?”

“Yup,” Astro responds with a grin. “Do you have a problem with that?”

After a moment, Skizz shakes his head. “Nope. Can I borrow a cushion to hit Joker in his stupid face?”

“No,” says Astro firmly.

“Can I suffocate him in a blanket?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Can you relax and stop being a stupid schoolteacher for ten seconds?”

“Not if it means letting you try to kill Joker.”

“C’mon, I’m not ACTUALLY gonna kill him,” complains Skizz. “There’s no imposters this round, remember.”

“Mhm.”

Within five minutes, everyone is huddled under the blanket fort over the admin table, using a rusty lantern as a light source. It’s fairly roomy inside the makeshift tent, but the ten people are still sitting fairly close together.

“So now what?” Brody asks after a while. “Are we gonna talk about something?”

“How about we discuss what kind of dead bush Skizz’s hair looks like?” Joker asks innocently.

Skizz responds to this by whacking Joker in the face with a pillow, knocking him over backwards.

“Oh, report the body!” Tango yelps with a grin. “Skizz did it! Skizz did it!”

This causes the whole group to laugh, even Etho. After many rounds of chaos and suspicion, it’s nice to be able to joke around and relax a bit.

“How does it feel, huh?” Skizz smirks. “How does it feel to be hit with a taste of your own PILLOW?”

“Honestly, I deserved that.”

“Yeah you did.”

Joker yanks Skizz down next to him, grinning. “Shut up.”

A short pause follows this.

“This is the only round we’re gonna get like this, isn’t it?” asks Evil.

Etho nods. “Should be. Why?”

“Dunno. It just feels nice to just hang out with you all as a group and be happy. I love you guys so much.”

“I hate you,” Endless murmurs. “I hate you all.”

Immediately, the two people on either side of him grab him in a simultaneous hug. “Well too bad, cuz we love you,” Astro responds with a smile. “Grumpiness and all.”

A low groan comes from Endless, but everyone can see the hint of a smile on his face.

Etho sits back against the wall and gazes around at his friends. Mrs Tango is resting her head on Tango’s shoulder. Astro and Evil are still hugging and teasing Endless. Brody and Impulse are quietly chuckling together about something. Joker and Skizz have fallen asleep with the tops of their heads touching.

Even though Etho isn’t with anyone in particular at this moment, he still feels connected to his friends. He’s alone but he’s not lonely. And that’s a rare thing for him.

This group really is his family.

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

Watch the World Burn

Dabi x Reader

Warning: grief, comforting, drinking, cursing. Tried keeping Dabi mostly in character - he’s an asshole after all. 

Summary: Grieving Big Sis Magne’s death, Dabi goes to get you from the bar. 

The room was dark, it was nearly two in the morning as Dabi’s cellphone chirped him awake; he sat up, annoyed and pressed. He reached for the cell off the nightstand and answered it. His voice was harsh and quick, the person on the other end got a slew of curses as they explained why they were calling. Dabi sighed and leaned against the headboard - you were piss drunk again at some bar. 

“I’ll break your arms if you let her leave before I get there.”

Dabi hung up and took a minute to think about the situation - it was the third time this week that he was getting out of bed to fetch your ass. The others didn’t understand why you would go off to drink at another bar when there was one downstairs from your room. He understood, though - you were angry and grieving the death of Big Sis Magne. The entire league felt it but it seemed to hit you the most - the two of you had been close friends before joining Shigaraki’s group. 

“Fuck.”

Dabi got out of bed, searching for pants and a jacket. He mumbled as he worked around his room, grabbing his cell and tucking it into his pocket before leaving his room.  The bar was empty when he walked through it to the front door, noting to himself that for anyone else in the league he wouldn’t be doing this. He could care less, frankly; he had always been up front about being distant from the rest of the league. Shigaraki treated them like family; they were all loyal to each other but Dabi was loyal to himself. 

At least he was at first, now it seemed, he was begrudgingly loyal to you. 

Asshole, he thought as he walked out into the chilled night. He knew what bar you were at, it was only a few blocks away - at least you had the common sense to not stray too far from the base, that he was thankful for. 

…

You sat at the bar, head spinning as your hand balled into a tight fist; you gazed round under the beer goggles that were your eyes, looking for someone to fight. Except the crowd was made of old men just as pathetic as you and there was no fun in that - you wanted to fight one person, Overhaul. You wanted to see him take his last breath as your fingers squeezed his throat - you wouldn’t even use your quirk, no, this was personal. 

He was a dead man walking but you knew better than to act on impulse; Shigaraki promised revenge, he looked you dead in the eyes and told you not to worry - things would fall into place eventually but you were itching for a fight. Instead, every night, you came to this bar and drank until it stopped hurting. Magne had been your sister, your best friend and you watched her die, unable to do a damn thing about it. If it wasn’t for Shigaraki’s order to stand down, you would have done anything to kill Overhaul or die trying. At least then, you would be with her.

“You can’t keep doing this shit.”

Like clockwork, Dabi stood at your side. Eyeing the bartender, you glared at him as he tried his best not to notice. “There goes your fucking tip,” you shouted to him, pulling from Dabi when he grabbed your elbow.

“Get the fuck off me, I didn’t ask you to come.”

“Yet here I am,” he grumbled, pulling out his wallet. He settled the tab and helped you off the stool; you were too drunk and weak to struggle. One hand pulled at the collar of your jacket, he held it tight as he forced you out of the bar, not caring that you were having trouble walking.

Outside he pushed you forward and watched as you stumbled to the ground, palms faced down on the concrete as tears flooded from your eyes. His eyes watched as your back started to shake, his shadow casted a looming darkness over you as a wretched sob left your throat. You didn’t recognize it at first, it sounded as painful as it felt. 

“I want to die,” you choked out, spit coming out as your forehead touched the ground. “Please let me die.”

Dabi closed his eyes for a moment, contemplating his life choices that had gotten him here - it was never his intention to have feelings for you, it just happened. You had broken down the walls he had put up, walls he defended with every inch of his being. You were the first person to make him feel something other than anger and hate - he still felt those things, still wanted to see the world burn but the difference was now he wanted you at his side.

HIs eyes snapped open and he inhaled the cold air as he stepped toward you. Kneeling he touched your shoulder, pressing his fingers firmly into the material of your black leather jacket. Gaining a grip, he pulled you off the ground and slipped a hand around the front of your waist. His throat dried as his hand slipped up your shirt, touching your hot skin as his finger spread like spider legs. Pulling you closer, your back rested against his chest as he rested his chin on the top of your head. Your head hung low as tears fell from your eyes, body collapsing against his. 

“I’m too fucking selfish to let you die,” Dabi whispered, holding you up against him. His head dipped down near your ear, his lips harsh against your earlobe. Your tears steadied as he held you tight. “I’m not letting you fucking go.”

Your chin quivered as it fought to hold back a sob because everything felt like it was on fire; you were constantly crying, angry at the world and you realized as Dabi kissed behind your ear, that dying wasn’t going to fix it. Turning your body to face him, you noticed how tired his eyes were and felt guilty that he was coming out so late, yet again, to retrieve you. To bring you back to the bar, back to his bed where you slept. His face was severe but his eyes told a different story. They were soft and understanding, hungry and knowing as his hand touched the side of your face. 

“Let’s go home,” he whispered, bringing his face down to yours.

Closing your eyes, the world felt dizzy as his fingertips touched your bottom lip, caressing gently as the night consumed you. It felt like it was just the two of you awake in the city as he finally kissed you. HIs mouth pressed firmly against yours as he dug his hands into your hair, tugging firmly as his body rocked against yours. Your hand went to Dabi’s  face, thumb caressing the metal staples in his skin. And in that moment, as he shivered under your touch, all you wanted to do was climb the tallest building and watch from above as the world burned with him at your side.

[ready-to-obeyme]

[OM!] Demon Brothers + Hobbies 🏊

Lucifer

what free time

when he does somehow peel himself off of work, he enjoys ballroom dancing

i can just imagine him putting on a vinyl song, holding up his arms and doing the steps to the dance (1, 2, 3... 1, 2, 3) and god forbid someone tries to come in during this time because he’d be too embarrassed to be lenient on their punishment

i imagine he’s super into learning other couple dances too like tango and salsa, so when you get together with him count on being his partner!

i bet he also loves teaching other people things-- like genuinely, considering he is the oldest of the seven (his brothers just test him LOL)

incredibly patient when showing you the steps, taking pride in your improvement and growing warm at the thought of you being able to dance with him at the next chance you get

and his weakness???? online shopping on akuzon 

which, when you find out, makes him extremely embarrassed and depending on whether you have the same past time-- you may or may not buy everything on akuzon

on his home screen interaction dialogue, he says something along the lines of “Akuzon is too convenient... it’s easy to buy a lot of things” while blushing

so I’m thinking sometimes when he does take a breather from his workload, he scrolls on akuzon just browsing for things because it’s quick

and ends up putting like 5 things into the cart  that he doesn’t really need

doesn’t always follow through and buy everything, but he definitely has moments where he impulse buys and it’s gone to bite him in the butt when packages arrive in droves and his brothers are like ??? why are there so many things

Mammon

loves music-- both listening and making it!

likes making his own mixtapes and playlists

and when he gets to share it with you, he’s so nervous; but the giddy happiness he feels when you tell him that it’s good is SO worth the wait and time he puts into his music

he’d be happy just having his mixtapes and music to himself but being able to share it with someone makes it a lot sweeter

definitely makes playlists for and about you because sometimes the feelings he can’t put into words he can tell you through music

idk if he has a recording studio in his room, but i think it’d be pretty fitting if there was

probably gets into composing his music, rapping mayhaps??

at some point likes to DJ as well, though he’s not too good as it rn, but he definitely loooooves playing with the sound effects and tracks

all of these things are him being able to express himself-- put a twist on something that already exists or creating something on his own

it gives him a sense of freedom: to express himself and to do whatever he wants as he pleases

pretty well-rounded when it comes to playing instruments

when he puts his mind to it, he can probably learn anything

most likely already knows how to play the guitar and the drums

has a pretty good voice too tbh

Leviathan

swimming!!

he may be a shut-in, but ya boy has ocean decor, can control sea creatures, so it’s only natural he can swim and swim well

doesn’t do it as often since he prefers watching anime/playing games loads more, but he it’s definitely something he enjoys since it feels like his natural place to be 

considering his dream is to be a professional gamer, it’s not far off to say that he finds it his hobby to start off small and be a youtuber, probably posting reviews of games he’s played or even writing out walk-throughs online

actually loves going to concerts and cons

if he was a fan of hatsune miku you BET he’d want to go to her first live concert with her life-sized hologram, waving the glowsticks in unison with the crowd

would definitely go all four days of Anime Expo where he would be SO happy surrounded by people who can love the same things he does with the same passion

loves creating cosplay to go to these cons by hand; impeccable detail and intense dedication into the craft that shows his love for whatever he’s making

kinda shy about wearing it, but if you’re down to wear any of his costumes, he’d absolutely die happy

it’s just too much love for him to handle in one sitting 

and ofc, hobbies include board games, games, DND, all those!!

Satan

asides from reading, loves traveling when he can whenever he can

he invites you out to places because he enjoys discovering new things and experiencing new things and traveling is the perfect way to do all of that all the time

he’d enjoy hiking too-- on trails, through the wilderness, among the wild; just give him a backpack, an explorers hat, maybe a walking stick (just like the ones in the movies) and he’s on his way!

loves going hiking with you because he likes the way your face lights up at new scenery or the wonders of the world

likes that he can share this enjoyment and excitement of discovery with you because it feels like he’s sharing a little bit of himself too

indoor activity is snuggling in the covers and having movie marathons! and now that he has you and all your movies on DVD (lol) he can now enjoy so much more things

and when he finds out about Netflix, he is NOT sleeping for DAYS

“Satan... did you sleep last night?”

“couldn’t. the new season of How to Get Away with Murder came out.”

SLAM POETRY

doesn’t think he’s very good, but definitely likes writing down in his journal and even some scattered words that form a bit of poetry sometimes

really really shy about sharing it, but if you coax him a little, he’d be willing to show you (though you’ll have a hard time convincing him to show you poetry he wrote about you)

people have said, and I agree, cat cafe is definitely something he’d seek out and enjoy; literal dream come true

a house of cats that lucifer can’t ban him from LMAO

Asmodeus

has a very creative mind and deft hands meant for craft (among other things ahem)

as a fashionable person and a trendsetter, he’d love making his own jewelry and clothes, picking out the beads and metalware for the earrings or bracelets and feeling out the cloth and stitches for his outfits

if levi IS into making cosplay, it’d be such a nice way for them to bond together since Levi is pretty good with picking out material too

i like to imagine he enjoys making jewelry for his brothers too:

a stud earring for mammon, maybe convincing him to explore other options and wear other jewelry too

giving his brothers the options of clip on earrings if they wanted to try something temporary, gives satan a golden bracelet, lucifer a silver ring etc

suuuuuper supportive of you if you wanted any type of piercings and would absolutely love it if you wore his jewelry

god he would bedazzle you in all his jewelry and clothes if he could

another hobby is doing yoga!!

good for the body and soul uwu

definitely gives a good reason for any of his flexibility, or maybe it’s because he’s naturally flexible that yoga is calming for him

also loves to invite you to do yoga with him

you’d definitely get a bit steamy doing certain positions with him, but MOST of the time, he does encourage you to stretch, relax, and strengthen your body

Beelzebub

so athletic he could probably play every sport

i agree with the masses: he’d DEFINITELY be good at hockey

basketball too (just imagine Kagami from Kuroko no Basuke)

you know what they say about big hands

big, strong hands, good for crafting that involves a little more strength, but considering he’s a pretty tender and patient guy, is great at sculpting with clay, which extends to pottery as well

just imagine him sitting near a kiln, spinning the clay and using his hands to shape the curve and notches of a pot

considering how many plates and bowls he’s probably eaten, it makes for a good way to replace them HAHA

good at crafting with glass too considering it requires steady hands and strength to spin glass evenly

enjoys a lot of arts and crafts and loves giving them as gifts, especially if they’re made from his own hands

one of the main reasons why he started and likes doing these as a hobby actually

adores the look on you face when you created a glass terrarium for your plants or created glass ornaments dyed with your favorite colors

would definitely be the type of person to put his hands on yours as he teaches you how to shape the clay and have plenty of fun with you watching you try to make glass ornaments with or without success

Belphegor

during his waking hours, he loves to study the stars

loved to watch them in the human world, but without a night sky, he’s content with looking up for constellations in books from the library

if you buy him the cute lamp that lights stars onto the ceiling, he’ll find you so endearing because he’d enjoy lying in bed with you and just looking up at the lights and being in each other’s arms-- imagining the day he gets to do this with you for real, on a picnic blanket, looking up at the moon and stars

i imagine he’d like to doodle too

i say MAINLY doodles because they’re easier like drawing chibis or whatever thinks is amusing and lowkey keeps him awake (though Lucifer doesn’t like it when he draws on the desks)

does sometimes go all out and draw amazingly well, whenever the mood strikes him

when you ask him, he jokingly says you’re his muse; but honestly wouldn’t put it past him to have drawn a portrait of you, awake or asleep, at some point

surprisingly good at sewing-- or at the very least mending rips and tears

i feel like beel has a lot of ripped shirts (...from being, yknow, ripped) so he’s gotten pretty good at simple stitches, which eventually evolved into something more

didn’t start off as a hobby but he did eventually find it soothing to sew and embroider

levi and asmodeus adore his skills and he grumbles, but doesn’t ever say ‘no’ to them when they ask for his help

[keiths3dart]

Max in The Black Lodge: a Life is Strange / Twin Peaks Crossover.

Part 3.

The thing most casual viewers don't realise about Chloe Price is just how vulnerable she is. For years she's projected this rebellious, 'Hella Gay, Fuck You’ attitude. Drink, drugs, sex, familial discord, flunking school, limited social circle, Chloe embraced the lot. Every self destructive impulse leapt upon with gusto.

It was all a front, Chloe's big secret was the fact that she's a sweet, funny, loving, and decent girl living to be loved. Whose father was taken from her. Whose best friend moved away and indeed moved on. Whose first love cheated on her (and with a man of all things!), then left. Who basically circled the emotional wagons and held the world at bay with a snarl and a defiant middle finger. Her demeanour, borne of feelings of abandonment and loneliness becoming a self fulfilling and self sustaining state of permanent friction and conflict in her life.

Well that was until Max came back into it. Until Max saved it. Numerous times. At a horrendous hidden psychological cost Max had still to face the bill for. Until Max peeled back the layers of hurt Chloe had padded her bruised heart with, letting the real Chloe shine back through, something Chloe had never allowed to happen, not since Rachel. Maybe not even with Rachel, maybe she'd even played up those traits since it seemed to be received positively by the volatile blonde.

And now Chloe finds herself in a remote woodland clearing looking down at Max's shoulder bag, abandoned on the ground next to the final forlorn dying embers of a small campfire.

She knows exactly how it feels.

Chloe was drained of everything, she felt like an empty shell just standing there in the clearing, unable to think. Her every fibre felt like it was plummeting into an infinitely dark abyss, dragging her thoughts with her.

Max had gone again. The love she had let back into her heart felt like it had been torn straight out of her chest. She felt so, just So. Fucking. Alone. Again.

As Chloe stood in the clearing trembling in dismay, Deputy Bobby Briggs scouted around the fringes of the clearing, looking for any signs of where Max had exited the clearing and what direction she had gone. His companion, the big Nez-Pence tribesman Deputy Hawk was poking about in the fire. His weathered face was grave.

Hawk was concerned. He knew this clearing. This place was known in his tribal legend, this had been the destination Agent Dale Cooper uncovered in his investigations into the greater mysteries unearthed by the Laura Palmer case. Cooper had disappeared at this very spot and had later returned. Different. Then, abruptly, he had left and no-one knew where. Even his superiors at the FBI had no idea. They'd been in Twin Peaks several years ago asking questions about Cooper, Gordon Cole and the other one, that insufferable little shit Albert Rosenthal.

Hawk looked at his partner with sadness. Poor Bobby, his father Major Briggs had disappeared too a few years later. Again on this very spot. Bobby continued to comb the perimeter but Hawk knew he would not find an exit trail. The darkening shadow on his heart told him that Max too had departed this earth for… The Other Place. Whatever the hell that was. The question was, would Max return like Cooper had? Or would her friend Chloe have to live with the loss and uncertainty of Max remaining missing. Hawk had seen how it had affected Bobby, and Bobby had not had the best of relations with his father. Hawk looked to Chloe now, his experienced eye could see she was on the verge of emotional collapse. Perhaps she too felt that sinking dread that seeped from the very ground of this supernatural place.

This was going to be a difficult conversation. Hawk knew he needed to talk to Chloe. Needed to say Something at least. But all his years of police experience couldn't provide more than a number of carefully nuanced platitudes he knew Chloe would see through in a second. Then go in to complete meltdown.

What could he do though? The truth of the matter, absolutely preposterous though it seemed was: that her friend Max had been taken from this place to, some other world/reality/dimension by persons/beings unknown for the purposes of fuck only knows and may / may not return at some undisclosed point in the future and may / may not be a barking mad murderous psychopath when they do.

“Fuck that” thought Hawk and Opted instead to use the hollow platitudes from the Crisis Response Management course Harry had sent him on when he made Deputy Chief.

“Chloe…” he began before he sensed something. A change in the air like static electricity or…

The whole of space and time exploded at once, spinning off in an infinite number of directions at once, the whole of creation in one spiralling maelstrom of light, sound, and sensation. Right in front of deputy Hawk.

But it was the sudden knee to the face that took the big man down.

Max was feeling dreamy, she'd lost herself in the soporific rhythm of the gentle shuffle beat for a moment. Or had it been hours?

This thought brought Max back to her senses. Her environment had been acting on her like a drug, lowering her alertness, subtly sedating her mind.

“That Food-Eater Jefferson must love it in here” Max thought venomously.

Almost on cue, like he'd been summoned by the very thought of his name, the head of Mark Jefferson turned to face Max.

“OLLEH XAM!” he said in that eerie style the inhabitants of this room used.

Max felt like recoiling from that gaze. Bad memories. But Max had grown to be made of sterner stuff. She would NOT let that scumbag have power over her. So she held the gaze, pouring all of her rage and loathing into that gaze. A gaze that would have reduced Chloe to ashes, would have sent Chuck Norris fleeing in panic to the florist to get something to apologize with, fell in vain upon the impassive face of Mark Jefferson as he now began to rise from his seat.

“I DLUOC ERUTPAC UOY NI A TNEMOM” he intoned, framing Max with his hands, like an imaginary camera.

Max had heard this particular speech before, and she began to edge away from Jefferson and the little man who now sat next to him, watching the whole exchange with amusement.

Suddenly the air was rend by a piercing scream. Max span round to see Rachel Amber, leaning forward in her chair, her face contorted in rage letting out this ungodly screech.

It stopped Mark Jefferson in his tracks.

“ON! OUY T’NOD TEG OT EVAH REH.” Rachel's voice sounded harsh and bitter and Max watched on as Rachel thrust forward her right hand towards a suddenly terrified Jefferson.

“”ESAELP, ON” he whined.

“ERIF! KLAW HTIW EM!” Rachel spat, as Jefferson, chair and all was consumed by a pillar of fire.

The little Man began to laugh and clap his hands again.

That was it for Max. Wherever she was, it was time to leave. And Rachel was coming with her.

“Rachel, let's get out of here” she said, grabbing Rachel by the arm.

Rachel looked up at her uncertainly.

“EREHT SI ON YAW TUO” the little man said solemnly.

“Mm m Max?” It was Rachel. Her voice hesitant but normal.

“Come on, we need to get back to Chloe” Max urged, pulling the bewildered blonde to her feet.

“Chloe? Yes. Chloe. Must get back to Chloe” Rachel mumbled, still appearing dazed and lost. Like someone abruptly woken from a very deep sleep.

“EREHT SI ON YAW TUO” the little man repeated. He looked to the two girls, a look of almost pity in his big eyes. “M’I YRROS”.

But still they ran. Through red draped, tile floored corridor after red draped, tile floored corridor. Every single one the same, every single one emerging back into the same room. The little man still sat. Watching on sadly.

Eventually Max collapsed to her knees in defeat. The little man was right. There was no way out. She was stuck here. Forever. Never to see her Chloe again. She wished she'd never come to this place. She'd managed to find Rachel only to share her fate. She wished she'd never… A desperate idea came to Max, she'd kept items with her when she'd rewound before, would it work with a human being? Was there any other option?

“Rachel, hold me tight and don't let go”.

“Jesus Max, is now the time?”

“You know what I mean” Max said, grabbing Rachel around the waist. “Now to rewind as far as possible, and please God get us both back to the woods and Chloe" Max thought as she reached forward to channel her strange power.

Suddenly, the little man jumped up in alarm, his eyes wide with fear.

“T’NOD ESU TAHT EREH!!!” He cried almost hysterically but it was too late.

Max had never thought there could be pain like the pain she felt. Searing up her arm and into her chest. And her head, her head felt like molten metal was being poured into it. Max was almost delirious with pain, everything was a strobing kaleidoscope of colour, she could no longer see the red Room. She couldn't see when she was going and she couldn't stop. But she could feel the weight of Rachel clutching at her, until the moment it all went black. The moment Max couldn't feel Rachel anymore. The moment Max couldn't feel anything anymore. There was only the black.

And then not even that.

The sudden change in the air had brought Chloe back to her senses. She looked up just in time to see it. The thing she could never describe. The thing deputy Hawk would never forget.

And then the two bodies came, flung out of the light as though they'd been spat out like used chewing gum. Rachel Amber and Max Caulfield. Rachel's knee catching the poor deputy chief square in the face knocking him down. Rachel was awake and trying to get up, holding her knee in pain.

Max lay still in a crumpled pile, like a discarded marionette.

Chloe didn't know what to do. She was so shocked by a succession of things that had just happened she just stood there wide eyed with shock.

Deputy Briggs had been caught unsighted by the whole thing, having been scanning the ground for traces of footprints. Suddenly the ground was lit as bright as day and there was a sharp crack followed by some dull thuds. He span round, automatically drawing his service revolver.

Rachel hit the ground in a heap, her knee throbbing having struck something on the way down. She felt like hammered shit and could barely adapt to the gloom after so long in the Red Room. She could just make out the fuzzy outline of Max lying in front of her and made to crawl towards her.

Max lay in a foetal position, her breathing was shallow, her chest barely moving, eyes closed. She might almost be asleep.

Hawk raised himself up into a sitting position, the right side of his face beginning to swell after the impact with Rachel's knee but the reason Hawk's head was spinning was due to the intense visions he'd seen when the gateway between worlds opened in front of him.

Chloe could see Rachel leaning over Max and it galvanized her into action. She dropped to her knees beside her two friends, joining Rachel in checking on the inert Max.

“Max? Max?” Chloe quavered, gently shaking her to no avail.

“She's breathing” Rachel was able to confirm.

No response from Max, she remained unconscious though reassuringly still alive. Rachel rolled to her side and tried to clear her head. Her vision was still fuzzy.

Chloe knelt, Max's head cradled in her lap, gently stroking her face. Tears dropped from her cheek and splashed onto Max's face. Chloe wiped them away with concern

“Shit, sorry Max”.

Bobby had holstered his weapon and checked on Hawk, the big man seemed a bit shook up but otherwise ok. Now he had to take charge of the situation, it looked like one of the girls was hurt. They'd need to get back out of the woods quickly. Time was of the essence, and the hospital in Twin Peaks was a long hike and a bumpy ride away.

“We need to get her back to town” he said, placing a hand on Chloe's shoulder. “Are you ok? Can you walk?” He added towards Rachel.

Rachel simply nodded in affirmative and unsteadily began to get to her feet. Bobby moved to help Chloe with Max.

“No, leave her. I've got her” Chloe sobbed, recoiling from Bobby.

Deputy Hawk had made it to his feet and was on the radio to the sheriff. An ambulance had been summoned and would meet them at the road end.

Chloe lifted Max out of the nest of pine needles. She felt so light, so fragile. How could something so fundamentally central to her life feel so insubstantial in her arms?

And thus the procession made their way down from the Ghost wood. Bobby took the lead followed by the still woozy Hawk. Chloe came next with Max and Rachel Amber brought up the rear, her head rapidly clearing, now just feeling bone tired.

“Don't worry my love, everything is going to be fine” Chloe cooed to the unconscious Max.

Behind them, a strange flicker danced in the eyes of Rachel for a moment before it was gone.

[tipsydipsydo]

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Gender of the Reader: female

Word Count: 3.7k

Alternative Universe: CEO! AU

Rating: 18+

Genre: Smut!

Warnings: Sexual Language + a bit Dirty Talk; Dom-/Sub-Themes (Dom! Hoseok x Sub! Reader); Sadism; Masochism; Degradation; Oral (m); Deepthroating; Cum-Eating; Sextoys; Lingerie; Pet-Play (Collar + Leash); Bondage; Spreader-Bar; Exhibtionism/Voyeurism; Teasing + Edging; Begging; Praising; Orgasm Control; rough (!) unprotected vaginal Sex (please stay safe!); very light mentions of alcohol (one sentences)

A/N: Over the weekend I looked through my old writing folders and... I think I've found some little diamonds in there.

Honestly, I'm impressed by myself.

I've rewritten the perspective of this story here and added some little details but in general I translated the original.

I hope you'll enjoy my old work as much as I did it. 😈💜

By the way... I wrote this story with barely 15.

Let me know what do you think about this story~ 👀🙈

Sneak Peak: "Laying open, completely helpless and so vulnerable in front of him. Presented like a meal on a silver tablet. His meal, his prey. Your wolf is starving, licking his lips with an animalistic and devilish smile at the sight of your parted pussy lips. Revealing his most desired things, this swollen and sensitive clit and this pretty tiny pussyhole. Clenching around nothing, literally begging to get filled with his fat cock and stuffed up with his cum until it’s leaking out of his little sweet swan..."

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「© tipsydipsydo」

The following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

Do not repost, plagiarize, translate or use any of my work in general!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms as well, even when you link me as the original author.

Please respect that. I’ll fight any illegal use of my work!

Thank you.

With a soft, barely audible click you open the door. A cold breeze welcomes you and caresses your body, giving you goosebumps. Slowly you step out of your bedroom and walk down the long corridor with well-considered steps.

The bright light of the full moon falls through the white, wide open double doors and guides your way. Your black heels clicking softly on the expensive parquet floor and the chains on the straps jingle seductively with every step, giving you self-confidence. Let you sound erotic and elegant without Hoseok even having seen you.

You pause within the frame of the double doors. Looking at the tall man, who’s standing at the huge panoramic window and looking down at Seoul. On the 20th floor you have a breathtaking view.

The moon is full and round, bathing everything in a soft, mystical light. The light breaks in Hoseok's dark hair and makes him look almost angelic. Even though you know he's the devil in an angel’s costume. 

He doesn't turn around to you, waiting for you to come to him.

You look at him closely. The tailored suit fits perfectly around his muscular body. His body proportions are in perfect harmony, he’s a breathtaking attractive man. Add this to his height, it makes him look really intimidating. Sublime.

His face has sharp, masculine features. Controlled. He controls everything. He loves to possess power and to demonstrate it all too clearly. He never loses his temper or acts impulsively. When it comes to those sessions between you two, there are no actions leaded by emotions, only controlled and thoughtful activities. He knows behind every single one its meaning, why he does this.

His skin has a sensual and seductive honey-gold tone. In stark contrast, his eyes shine in a cool, almost black brown. You have never seen such a dark eye colour and maybe that’s it what attracts you to him. 

This special, rare thing about him makes him incredibly attractive for you. It's like having a very rare diamond. It's the uniqueness of it that makes you want to own it. But in your case, it's the other way around. He owns you. And that's what makes you feel fulfilled.

Even though others may not see it that way, he gives you so much of himself. With it you not even mean the material things, he gives you so much of his love.

Yes, it’s love. His affection and loving torments, how he cares for you, the way he gives you commands and taking control. That is what fills you the most and it’s also the reason why you can give yourself completely to him. Hoseok takes your control and turns it into his own.

Others would panic if they were deprived of personal control. But if he takes it from you, then he will take care of you, so you can let yourself fall. Giving you more control than before. You trust him, he knows your limits and keeps to them strictly. He has control over everything and leaves nothing to luck or chance. That’s the reason why you trust him so much. He doesn’t act impulsively and rashly, he never crosses the boundaries.  

This control, this power that he has and exercises on others is what fascinates you so much. You love this dominance in him, it gives you a sense of security and safety. He doesn’t make any mistakes, you can completely let yourself go with him. Finally you have found the person who fits you perfectly. He has this special power, dominance and control and what you want is to submit to him completely, to obey him. 

Just the sight of him and this dominant aura around him excites you. You breathe out audibly and can hardly take your eyes off him. You know that you’re not undiscovered. Hoseok knows perfectly well that you are standing here, shamelessly staring at him. But he doesn't say anything, doesn't rebuke you, because he loves your awestruck, admiring gaze.

He knows exactly what kind of effect he has on you. He knows, no, he feels it in every fiber of his body how much you want to submit to him and beg him to give you any kind of relieve or satisfaction. His self-satisfied smile is already visible on his lips.

Your breath hitch, you shallow hard, your décolleté rises and falls quickly. Now you realize how hard your buds already are under the very fine tip of your negligee. The reason for this are these wild fantasies that are haunting you in your pretty head.

How you would love it to be tied to the bed again. Lying completely exposed under him, while he pours champagne over your breasts and letting it run over your stomach onto your until it collects in your navel. How much do you long for him to punish you when you are dying of lust and can't keep still... 

Every warning bite on your nipples sent a wave of sweet pain through your body, causes that a lot more of your juice is flowing out of you. You can remember how you moaned as you writhed under him, completely exposed and helpless to face his punishments. You thought at first, he’d give you finally some relieve when he pushed the vibrator into your clenching hole. But still, he refused to let you cum... 

His face was filled with pure satisfaction, he enjoyed hearing you beg... even dirty words left your otherwise shy mouth, out of pure desperation. That brought an amused smile on his lips. 

Hoseok loves to demonstrate his power and influence, it amuses himself how quickly you've fallen for the devil. No wonder he keeps calling you "my defiled angel." But you are so aroused by his arrogance, his self-confidence and cockyness. There's nothing you can do about it. You've gone right into his trap. The big bad wolf has captured the innocent Swan. The dying swan. Blood, the dark red blood stains the snow-white, pure feathers, while the black wolf's canines around her throat. 

"Turn the music on.” It’s the first thing that Hoseok say to you this night. His voice is deep and commanding, you obey his commands all too willingly. 

You step quietly to the stereo and turn it on. His chosen CD must be already in the music player. Now the sounds of slow piano play and the dark, erotic voice of a woman fill the plain, unadorned room.  White walls with light wooden beams, white leather couch and some fake fur blankets lie over the armrests of the furniture, which however look very real. A huge plasma TV dominates the room, together with some large boxes. On the right wall there is a huge bookshelf. Only filled with works in their original languages. Hoseok knows them all perfectly. 

Your ears focus on the slow but stimulating song that comes quietly out of the speakers. Toxic. Involuntarily you have to think immediately of this korean man, who still looks unperturbed at the huge metropolis to his feet. 

Too much time has passed, you made him wait, which he absolutely hates! You swallow nervously, at the sound of his voice you should have noticed it immediately! He sounded a little annoyed and waiting. Others would not have heard it, but you have already learned to hear that little difference. The emphasis of the words alone! God, how stupid and inattentive you are! Hoseok hates it when his counterpart doesn't concentrate completely on him and his wishes. Then he becomes very unpleasant and just his cold gaze punish you more than any spanks. 

With a weak stomach and chewing nervously on your lower lip, you start moving and slowly walk towards him. The translucent chiffon hugs your naked thighs tenderly and the cool air on your uncovered womanhood shoots a stimulating tingle through your body. Under this almost completely transparent black negligee you’re wearing nothing.

Your face is adorned with a filigree venetian mask. It is made of black metal and the transparency of it gives you just little anonymity. At the ends it is adorned with dark green diamond particulas and and on the bridge of your nose sparkles an emerald diamond. At his request you wear this outfit.

Your breasts sways gently with every step, the lace fabric rubs against your hard nipples and let the hot ball in your abdomen grow bigger. The small lust balls swings a little in yourself, let hot shivers of lust running down your spine. The light swinging of the balls in your sextoy heats your desire up with every step, so that your arousal is already running down the insides of your thighs. Let the beguiling smell of femininity exude.

You have to bite your lower lip in order not to whimper out loudly and your hands turns into fists, you wish, you could touch yourself for some relief. You’re so unbelievable desperate, even you would call yourself pathetic. But without his own instructions, Hoseok wouldn't find this funny at all and would punish you without any mercy for your indiscipline.

"How can I serve you, Master?" you ask quietly, your head lowered submissively, after stopping a few meters behind your dom. At first, Hoseok doesn't react until he slowly turns around after two minutes. "Why did you wait so long, Y/N? Why were you late?" he asks in a calm, demure tone. 

"I...I...", you start stuttering, looking for an excuse that doesn't sound as pathetic as the actual reason. That you were dreaming away and forgot the time. But Hoseok knows you and sees through your intentions immediately. 

He steps towards you, threatening you and overtowering your small frame. His aura is suddenly freezing cold and even if you can't see his face, you know that you would only find cold anger and displeasure in it.  How his jaw would be clench and his nostrils would be flaring as if he had actually problems to control himself. But his gaze is the most humiliating. 

Cold, icy dark brown, almost black eyes. Showing only resentment and disappointment. 

"Are you thinking about lying to me right now, Y/N?", he asks with a harsh and growling voice that has nothing in common with anything melodic anymore. You should have known never, really never lie to Mr. Jung Hoseok. 

"Answer me!", he groan angrily and impatiently, assessing you like a hungry predator. As soon as you admit you wanted to lie to him, he will pounce on you and tear you apart. But that's what makes you hot, you like to play with fire, you like to test your limits with him, love the thrill and excitement of being punished again. 

You’re so uncomfortable right in the moment, your gaze searches over shiny parquet floor, not daring to look up. You don't even know if you are allowed to. But this dangerous aura of Hoseok's dominance lets a little moan escape your throat. Lust takes over your body, taking every fiber of your whole being.

Finally you dare to look up carefully, but you doesn’t look him in the eye.  "I-I'm sorry, M-Master..." you mumble inaudibly. A sigh comes from your husband, who shakes his head. The moonlight shimmers in his hair, reminding you a bit of the velvety fur of a black panther. 

"...And I thought I reached you better. Why are you always so dreamy and inattentive? Is it that what you want? Do you long for punishments, my little swan?," he cooed as he approached you and grabbed your hair, pulling it not really gently back so you would look at him. His black eyes searching yours, looking inside you. He can read your mind you like an open book. 

He sees all your desires, your desires for him. The desire to submit to him and to let the dirtiest things be done to you. It makes you hot, it makes you horny. Pure desire, lust and despair pulsates through your body. Sexual need, the longing for sex, naughty play sessions, punishment and redemption dominates your mind and body.  A greedy fire of passive passion blazes hot inside you.

His gaze, which consumes everything of you, frees you with his eyes from the little bit of cloth, which you still carry on your body. Exposes and humiliates you. But you love to e under control of this dominant Korean man, following his will. The confirmation can be seen on your body, your arousal can almost be smelled. 

You want to swallow, but your body trembles with excitement like aspen leaves and a thin layer of sweat lies on your skin. The tight-fitting choker collar with its many details and chains reminds you at this moment more of a dog collar... It turns out for a good reason.

A pant leaves your full lips and you look at him with eyes, veiled in lust.  "Please punish me, Master! I-I want, I need to be punished for my stupidity! M-Make anything you want with me!" it bursts out of you, your voice trembles in lust. He begins to smile arrogantly and amusedly, releases your hair from his merciless grip and instead gently caresses your neck.  

"Good girl...", he says tenderly, praises you for having realized that you deserve an appropriate punishment for your misconduct. Suddenly he pushes your hair on your left shoulder, to get to the clasp of the chocker. Then something very cold hits your warm neck, causing you to flinch. You look up confused and discover a black leather leash, that is attached to your choker. Hoseok encourages you with an uninterpretable smile and tug on the leash.

"Come, my little.", he commands and you follow him well-behaved. A wild tingling sensation takes over your body and you are so curious to know what he has planned for you.  A lustful moaning escapes your mouth when you see where he is leading you.

To your pleasure room.

He opens the room quietly and you enjoy the smell that is still hanging in the air.  Suede, lacquer and a little bit more of the sparkling sweetness of your past play sessions. The light is dimmed, gives the whole thing an erotic-sensual touch. Your relationship is a little different.

Of course, he punishes you with tender slaps and spanks, tortures you until you die of sweet pain that’s paired up with irrepressible lust, but with you everything is based more on the balance of power. 

You enjoy being submissive, being given orders and being dominated. He loves to demonstrate his power to control you.  It doesn't have to have anything to do with physical pain, it's simply about the principle of power play. It excites you to be led and humiliated by him. To see his proud and superior, but also lustful smile.

Your master goes to the restored, antique-looking wing chair with the mahogany wooden feet. He sits down in it and straightens up in the armchair almost threateningly.  "On your knees," he says in a commanding tone, that is otherwise only found in the military and make an elegant gesture to you, to get down on your knees. 

Your heart makes a jump, his commanding voice only makes your pussy lips and clitoris swell even more. What would you give to have him eating you out. What... what would he do it if you’re literally offering yourself to him? But you do what you are ordered to, kneeling down to his feet and waiting for that what comes next.

"And now... lick them off", the order comes from above and he holds out his shiny polished brown suede shoe. You falter... You have to lick his shoes...? Unsure you look up to him with an questioning look. A nod of encouragement is returns to you. You swallow before carefully taking his left foot in your hands and holding it to your lips. 

This really makes you a bit uncomfortable and that's exactly why there is such a treacherous pull in your abdomen. Only more of your juice is flowing down your thigh. A little bit awkwardly you start to lick over the leather, getting over the time more and more eager and you end up enjoying it even in a precarious way.  The bitter taste of material is new for you, but with shy looks you squint at Hoseok, who obviously enjoys the sight. Lust seizes your body anew and you surrender completely to your humiliating punishment.

He grabs a handful of your hair and pulls you up a little. Between his legs, to his crotch. You look at him excitedly and this animal lust in his dark eyes says more than every word. 

Eagerly you open his trousers and pull down the waistband of his black shorts. His rock-hard cock jumps towards you and almost unrestrainedly you give yourself to his unspoken command. Licking all over this gorgeous shaft, massaging his balls and inhaling this musky scent of his groins. Pulling the foreskin back from his tip to give sweet kitten licks on his exposed crown. 

Hoseok's lustful look lies heavy on you, until he puts a hand on the back of your head and decides for himself what you do or don't do. He fucks your mouth in a controlled manner, guides your head and you enjoy the salty taste of his presumably on your nimble tongue. A muffled groan rises up Hoseok's throat before his cum runs down your throat. Willingly you swallow everything, licking lasciviously over your lips and give him a seductive look. You love that smug look on his face. 

"Such a good little swan you are for me...," he rewards you, gets up an lead you to the finally giant king-size bed, which is covered in black silk. 

He ties your leath tightly to the metal crossbars on the headboard so that you can hardly move. Exactly this fact causes a wave of electrifying lust flickers through you and you whimper willingly as you have to pull your knees up to your chest, as he ties your wrists with red rope to your ankles and attaches a spreader bar between your knees.  

He smiles smugly at you, your whole body is almost completely consumed by the pleasure you feel in being so exposed to him. His hand tenderly caresses your sweaty thigh and his fingertips play with your swollen clitoris. Then he clears his throat.  

"My little swan... You have mastered your punishment so well, now you may have the right to choose a reward... what would it be?" he asked tenderly and his dark lustblown pupils look into yours.  You tremble under his haunting gaze, your body soon burns from the inside out, such heat rages within you. The wish is already on your tongue, but your shame is still too big to say it out loud. 

"What do you wish, my beautiful swan?," Hoseok encouraged you with his dark, erotic voice and a... kinda diabolical smile. 

"Fuck me, Master! P-Please! I-I want you to stretch my tiny pussy open with your hard cock, I want you to be merciless, ruin me like you desire and fill me up with your thick cum!", you almost scream out with dark red cheeks. In that moment, he had pulled the lustballs out of you, with only one single tug.

You breath quickly, panting almost like a dog bitch in heat. Laying open, completely helpless and so vulnerable in front of him. Presented like a meal on a silver tablet. His meal, his prey. Your wolf is starving, licking his lips with an aminalistic and devilish smile at the sight of your parted pussy lips. Revealing his most desired things, this swollen and sensitive clit and this pretty tiny pussyhole. Clenching around nothing, literally begging to get filled with his fat cock and stuffed up with his cum until it’s leaking out of his little sweet swan.

Without any warning Hoseok sinks mercilessly and deeply into you, didn’t let you adjust to his long and girthy length. The rhythm is hard and fast. It’s exactly what you were begging for. Lust has taken over your mind and there was no room for shame. Hoseok pants heavily and bury himself deeper and deeper into you, reaching your cervix what let you cry out in pain and pleasure. You hardly know how to handle your lust, it feels like as if everything is already too much but still not enough to pleasure the greedy desire in your body. He fucks you so good, you’re overflowing with juices.

Your pussy makes lewd squelching sounds, these noise turns you on beyond belief and let your desperate cunt literally dripping onto the sheets. The smell of primal, animalistic and uninhibited sex is hanging heavily in the air.  Hoseok's white dress shirt gets sweat stains and this sight, this feeling of his pure lust makes you float.

You’re getting closer and closer in no time. The fact of getting brutally used only for Hoseok’s own pleasure let your own lust increase, building it higher and higher into the sky. The thought alone to know, that he’ll take you this night definitely to the point of pure exhaustion gets you high. Yes, maybe you are a nymphomaniac, but at this moment you want nothing more than to get fucked and breeded by Hoseok like the cockslut you truly are.

Your body burns, is ablaze with light and finally... finally that moment comes when all that pent-up lust bursts out of you. Your body trembles and you scream, whimpering out the lust of your orgasm. The world explodes before your inner eye in the most beautiful colors.

Only a few minutes later, Hoseok is already sitting in front of you again, smiling devilishly and watching his cum slowly dripping out of you. 

The night has just begun.

Yes, you are the fallen angel who has fallen to the devil. 

You are the white swan who fell victim to the black wolf.

[hansoulo]

i’ll write a hymn again; i’ll be your woman

Pairing: Steve Murphy/!Reader

Warnings: angst (duh), canon-typical mentions of violence and blood, softness, cursing, etc etc again it’s literally just this scene from s2 ep4 so make of that what you will

Word Count: around 1.4k

A/N: title is from this song. not very fitting tone-wise but the lyrics do b hittin home. yeehaw 🤠

The door opens, groaning on its rusted hinges before it’s interrupted by footsteps. You turn at the sound, seeing familiar shoulders and cheekbones - rounded edges that are still sharp to the touch backlit by the outside traffic. It’s late. Midnight, maybe. He smells like whiskey and a little like paper, like ink and manila folders and other dry government things that all spell out danger. His eyes are rimmed and swollen lilac, an exhaustion that seems to seep through him from the inside until it cracks and shows on his face in a way that never seems to settle. You’re curled on the couch with your knees tucked into your side, almost asleep but not quite. You were waiting for the phone to ring.

“Hey,” you call out.

Steve’s voice is low, graveled and drawling something hollow. “Hey, sweetheart.” He shuts the door with a soft click and you can hear the sound of keys hitting the coffee table, metallic and slightly off-key. “I’m sorry about this honey, I meant to call it’s just-”

“Work,” you answer for him with a small smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “I get it.”

Steve rakes his hand through his hair, already tousled and gripped through as evidence of frustration and stress and who knows what else before he made it back here. Back to you.

The scrape of his facial hair brushes against your cheek when he leans over the back of the sofa, his palms coming to rest at your shoulders as he kisses the shell of your ear. “I missed you,” he says, his exhales tickling and sending a small wave of goosebumps across your arms. You reach a hand to the nape of his neck, guiding him down until your lips meet. It’s brief and it’s soft, melancholy because that’s the only thing he can give right now but you don’t mind. It’s enough.

You hear Steve’s footsteps drag over hardwood as he sits down by the kitchen table, making your way off the couch in search of a drink of water.

You watch through the glass as you lift it to your lips - his reflection warped and melting wax underneath the faint yellow of the living room lamp. Everything is muted, tamped down by the night air and the low buzzing of late-summer insects outside your window.

It’s compact, slow but still tense and drawn tight almost to snapping and you want to say something but have no idea what. You don’t want to fight again. To turn away when he climbs next to you in bed, to waste every waning day as the sag of his shoulders sets into permanence. It kills you, takes little pieces every time he leaves, never promising he’ll come back because you both know it might not be true. Better to have low expectations, you suppose. Or none at all. It’s not fair to him, though. Steve’s trying, he really is - and if it kills you then what’s it doing to him? You can’t imagine. You’re not sure if you want to.

The clink of your glass against the sink bottom breaks up the silence, jarring even though you tried to be gentle about it. Steve looks… not good. Not bad - he could never look bad - but… not good. He’s been better. You both have.

Your wedding ring catches in the kitchen lights when you step towards him, bouncing back a soft gold and memories of times that weren’t constantly bubbling over, teetering on the edge of something catastrophic. It was a nice wedding. He proposed on your two-year anniversary, in the tacky little bar where you first met. You said yes right before a man threw up his third beer, which made your friends laugh and your mother - on the phone the next morning - horrified. You were both young, impulsive and impatient, so the wedding was held three months later on his uncle’s beach, the night colored with sand between your bare toes (no heels, because duh) and memories of Steve’s great-aunt Myrna flirting with the MC. Back when things were light, impossibly easy and fogged over with all the things you could become.

What had you become?

“Steve,” you call out, your voice notching in your larynx and coming out tremulous, quivering slightly on the ending note like the slow drag of a violin string. You stand in front of him, the side of your hip digging a little bit into the edge of the table as you shift your weight from foot to foot.

There’s only a few inches between your bodies but it feels like miles, endless and tunneling until you’re choked with all the chipping rubble that’s being hacked at - by his job, by the pistol still tucked in the waistband of his pants and the way he never seems to come back to you even when he’s right there. Your eyes say what your mouth can’t bring itself to shape. Come back to me. Please.

You speak again when he remains quiet, staring off to the side of your figure like he can’t bring himself to look you in the face lest something splinters. “Are you okay?”

It’s a stupid question, really, because of course he’s not fucking okay but you ask it anyway, just wanting the balm of empty assurances and the knowledge that he still cares enough about you to try. You know he cares about you, know he loves you because he whispers the words until you’re dizzy, memorizing the way they sound for when he isn’t around to speak them himself. You know he loves you. You know you love him. You just don’t know if that’s enough.

Steve nods, pursing his lips and trying to give you something to grasp onto before the nod turns into a shake and a noise escapes his throat, choked and muffled. It sounds like a sob.

Something inside him is split open, something raw and beating a scar-tissue glossy red that has him falling forward and nosing his face into your shirt until you can feel his breath against your stomach. You try to soothe him, carding your fingers through his hair and whispering quiet nothings as arms wrap around your sides and pull you closer - tight and strong and familiar. The ridges of his watch dig into your back but you don’t really care, only registering the way you can feel tears dampen the fabric of your top and the way his breathing hitches.

You want to ask what happened, what he saw or did or didn’t do but that’s not what needs to be said. Later, maybe.

He lifts his head after a few minutes, resting his chin on your sternum as your thumbs come up to smooth over the creases drawn on his face. Hands, smaller and softer that haven’t killed but are weighed down by the witnessing of it, stroke across the ridge of his brow, the sloping contours of his face until they’re no longer drawn tight and dragged heavy. Steve leans into your touch, his skin still hot and thrumming with forced alertness and too many cups of watered-down coffee. There are tracks running down his cheeks, rivulets of hot salt that map across his jaw and pool into the hollow of his clavicle, wet and shining against skin you’ve grown to know like it’s your own. Your vision blurs over, desperation aching and beating against the bones of your ribs until they feel liable to break.

You lower your head, ghosting your lips across his hair until the arms around your waist go slack and heavy, still seeping warmth through your shirt when Steve lifts his mouth to meet yours.

He drinks you up like a man dying of thirst, parched for softness and anything that isn’t the sound of screaming - that isn’t the last ragged gasp before a man gives up his ghost to heaven or hell or whatever numb thing comes after. He’ll let you swallow the hurt and the pain until the shell casings swimming behind his eyelids flicker out, momentarily quelled underneath the feeling of your mouth and the tenderness of your touch. He’ll try to love you, here, now, at a kitchen table in an apartment that’s not home and probably won’t ever be but it’s okay.

You’ll be okay.

[girlofmanyfandoms]

keefex, romantic or platonic

I have no idea if this was what you were looking for, but:

Ok, so it really begins when one day, Fitz is busy studying for midterms

And Keefe has photographic memory, so he’s like “Yeah, pass”

So obviously Soph is busy studying as well, and those are his two go-to’s

So he decides to check on Dex, since they haven’t chatted in a while

He gets very excited at this idea, but he doesn’t know w h y

And his father wouldn’t approve of him having to go through Mysterium, so that’s a plus

So he knocks on the door and finds that it’s open

And it’s just utter chaos

There’s the sound of flames, bubbling, and then a mini explosion

Kesler and Dex emerge from the back room covered in some bubbling purple substance

With eye protection ofc, but their hair and clothes are a mess

Bex slides down the swirly railing squealing, Lex and Rex running after her

They knock down a vase, and Juline sighs as she sweeps up the remains

She looks up to see Keefe and flushes with embarrassment

*cue her scolding Kesler and Dex and telling them to clean themselves up*

They laugh at this, but oblige

Juline then asks if he came there for elixirs

He says no, that he wanted to hang out with Dex and maybe study for midterms

She tells him to wait in Dex’s room so he can clean up, then offers to makes snacks, which he accepts

(She then runs after the triplets to distract them with snow people, but we don’t talk about that)

So Keefe is chilling in Dex’s room when something shiny catches his eye

It’s a gold box, resting on a shelf

And your boy’s impulsivity kicks in, he H A S to know what’s up with this box

So he gets up to look at it, and that’s when he finally takes a moment to see just how many inventions Dex had created

There’s a few crates on the floor below the shelves of just blueprints and sketches for different prototypes

He starts sifting through them when Dex comes into the room

“What are you doing?”

*panics* “What are YOU doing?”

Keefe then realizes part of Dex’s hair is dyed purple from whatever substance exploded

“hA, you’re a grape”

*eye rolling* “Hilarious”

Keefe tells him that he should approach the Council with some of his inventions, or at the very least, Lady Iskra

Dex winces, and reminds him of how the ability restrictor went

“This is different,” Keefe insists. “The least you can do is tell your Technopathy mentor.”

Dex says some stuff that reveals his self-doubt, feelings of not having a purpose, shame, loneliness, etc.

And Keefe is like ??? Not a vibe

So he hugs Dex tightly and tells him how much he means to him

Dex squeaks and blushes a bit

He then has a moment of “why am I blushing, this is just my friend being supportive. Right?”

Keefe realizes he’s been holding onto him for a while and slowly pulls away

To change the subject, he makes Dex show him each and every blueprint and machine he’s made

This easily goes into the evening, and Keefe decides he’ll sleep over

He helps Dex narrow it down to 10 inventions that he’ll show Lady Iskra next class

Dex then asks if he wants to study for midterms

To which Keefe responds with “No studying, we die like warriors!”

And Dex is already pretty much set, so he suggests they play a human game, any game that Sophie got for him

Keefe searches through the box of games and his eyes land on Twister

He skims the description and is dead set on playing it

He shoves it in Dex’s face

And Dex, having the knowledge of the types of tension that can arise refuses profusely, turning very red

“Are you a tomato or a grape? You have to choose.”

Dex blushes even more, and pushes the game away

“No,” Dex repeats.

“C’mon Dexinator. Please?”

Dex chances a glance at his friend, who is making puppy eyes, and his heart melts

The only thing going through his head is ‘Why is he so cute?’

Dex shakes his head violently, he’s not supposed to think like that. This is his FRIEND. Nothing more

But Keefe has moved closer, bringing his pleas and pouts with him

Dex realizes how close they are and time kinda slows

His brain feels like mush and he gets butterflies in his stomach

He has this moment where he realizes “this is the same thing I thought I felt for Sophie”

And so he gets really confused with his labels. Was he gay, but misplacing his feelings? Was he bi? Was he pan?

Keefe gave no time for him to think about this, and using his height to his advantage, draped himself over Dex

“Come oooonnnn, let’s play Twisterrrrrr”

Dex shoves him off playfully. If this is how he feels, he might as well spare his poor heart another panic attack from their proximity

“Fine, one round.”

“YES! Point for the Keefester!”

So they set up the mat in the room and take turns spinning the wheel

Keefe always takes the spot farthest from him, just to create a challenge

5 minutes in and Keefe is in a bridge position

A few moves later and Dex is in a push-up position directly over him

Keefe is now experiencing peak *gay panic*

So to attempt to break the tension, he says, “Gonna give me twenty?”

“Twenty kisses”

Dex did NOT mean to say that out loud and internally curses himself

“Well, I guess we better start right away”

Dex hesitates, but moves closer

And then there’s a knock on the door

Keefe scrambles out from under him, kicks the Twister mat under the bed, and rests against the wall casually in time for Juline to enter

“I made rifflepuffs!”

“Thanks, mom, can you leave them on the nightstand?”

She does, and once she leaves, Dex makes sure to lock the door

He facepalms before dropping face first onto his bed and letting out a scream into his pillow

Keefe gets up and sits next to him, rubbing his back

“I can sleep on the couch downstairs if you want.”

“No, you can sleep with me”

Realizing what that implied, Dex leaped up and corrected himself

“I meant in the same bed! Like next to each other, sleeping!”

Keefe assures him that he knew what he meant, laughing

“How does Saturday at 6 work for you? The bakery in Atlantis?”

Dex is confused. Keefe actually likes him, too?

“It’s a date”

They continue to hang out, but they recline on each other more casually, trying to see what the other person was comfortable with

Soon enough, it’s dark out, and they pull the covers over themselves

“You know about those twenty kisses...”

“KeEfE-”

Imma do the platonic ones in a bit, my creativity returns from vacation soon

[thecleverdame]

The Oath - 12

Parings: Dark!Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader

Story Master List

Summary: After an unsuccessful escape attempt, the reader finds herself taken as a spoil of war. She ends up in the bed of a ruthless Alpha, the son of John Winchester, leader of the kingdom of Gilead. She struggles to conceal her true identity and navigate a society where being an Omega means nothing more than serving at the pleasure of powerful men.

Warnings: non-con, sexual assault, rape, attempted suicide, sexual slavery, branding, torture, ownership, voyeurism, anal play, smut, violence, and murder.

Sam is dark in this story. If any of the warnings are triggers for you, I would suggest skipping this one. Please read and heed all the warnings.

Beta: ilikaicalie

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-

Sam can feel you watching him. 

Since waking up from the dead those years ago all of his senses have been heightened. He can anticipate situations before they develop, read the expression on a man’s face to deduce if he’s lying. But this is something else. A dormant ability hidden in his Alpha that’s responding to the bond developing between you. He can feel it growing every day. He knows when you are near or far, like now as you watch him riding away on his horse. 

Despite the complications of being an Omega, you’ve proved to be less work than he initially anticipated. Yes, you’re often scared and appear lonely. But any Omega he came across would be all of those things and more. He sees your sadness, but you manage to not let it affect your ability to satisfy him so he honestly doesn’t care. It’s well worth the price to have you in his bed at night, rubbing your sweet scent over his skin and sucking his cock like you’re starving for it. 

You need him more every day and that’s the way he prefers to keep it. If anything happened to you, it’s unlikely he would ever find a match as well suited. Most Alphas never find an Omega that responds so favorably.

Hell, in this world many Alphas never find an Omega at all. 

“You don’t need to stay. I’ve recovered.” Sam affirms to Dean what they both already know.  

“I’m not here for you. I’m here because being on my own is mind-numbing. The men are unbearable and this new Omega might be the death of me. Plus dad is a week away, ten days at most. I’m dreading rejoining the troops.”

“It’s true. The more time we spend away from him, the harder the reunion.”

“Used to be weeks, then months. How long has it been this time?” Dean asks. 

“Eighteen months since I’ve seen him last,” Sam confirms. “Almost the same for you if I remember correctly.” 

“I’m not sure. At least a year. I don’t mind him as much as you.”

Sam and John have a widening rift that’s been growing since Sam was a child. As soon as Sam was old enough to say the word ‘no’ the disobedience began. After Sam’s change to the man he is now, Dean thought perhaps they would grow closer. Sam was rapidly becoming just as ruthless as his father. But then came the day Sam surpassed John in nearly every regard. 

Dean knows his brother keeps his actions in check. If he acted on his impulses, a monster would be unleashed. But Sam maintains a semblance of humanity and their father simply sees it as an opportunity. To have someone as smart and capable as Sam who is also willing to give merciless orders and gets his hands dirty when necessary is invaluable. 

“A few of dad’s men are already here,” Sam confirms. 

Two of John’s scouts arrived this morning. Now that they’ve confirmed safe passage, they’ll ride back for the largest garrison in the Winchester army. A hundred-thousand men will join up with Sam and Dean to create a force like nothing seen before. 

They’re unstoppable and they know it. 

“The sword maker arrived today,” Dean observes as they trot along the forest line. Both men scan the horizon, constantly vigilant of a possible impending attack. 

Sam looks to Dean. “I could use a new blade. And his brand.”

His brand. Sam plans to make his ownership permanent. He must believe in your allegiance if he’s willing to brand you with the Winchester crest. 

“I’ll have my Omega marked as well,” Dean adds and Sam turns to him with an inquisitive brow. 

“The blonde one that’s tried to kill you twice now?” 

“Best to have the family claim as soon as possible. I’ve heard reports of camps attacked and Omega’s being stolen and smuggled to the borders. We need her if we want to bargain.”

“She’s still wild?” Sam grins, watching Dean’s exasperation with amusement. 

“She’s a hard one to break. Every time I think I’ve gotten the best of her she tries something new.”

“How long do you think she’ll live once our father shows up?”

“Depends on if he truly needs her as a bargaining chip or if he’ll just use her to entertain the men. Nothing gets them as energized as a beheading.”

“True. You won’t be broken-hearted?”

“No, not in the least. As soon as I find another Omega she’s heading to the jailer.”

“Smart. Better to have her under lock and key.” Sam rides for some time in silence, watching the slow-moving cloud trails across the gray horizon. “You told my Omega I was going to give her to you. Then to the men.”

“Maybe, sounds like me.” Dean laughs it off. “What’s the problem.”

“She tried to slit her own throat. I think she’s passed it now, but you could have given me a warning. You know how they react. I’d like to keep her alive.” 

“It was a comment. She’s fragile.” Dean dismisses the idea that he acted rashly.  “I’m still not convinced she didn’t have a hand in poisoning you. We should at least interrogate her. We can’t let the culprit get away with an attempt on Sam Winchester’s life. It sends the wrong message. Someone needs to be an example of what happens if they come after one of us. A body or two should do the trick.” 

“And you think that person is my Omega?” 

“Your Omega?” Dean shoots him a look “Please, we both know you’d never give her up. You’re too deep in that wet little cunt to see straight.” 

“I see very clearly. Perhaps more than I have in a long time. I’m not sure I was ever truly satisfied before her. I thought the stories of destined matches were as much shit as you did but, now I...there’s something to it.”

“Have you been through a rut yet?” 

“No,”

“Then how can you know for sure?”

“Because after I fuck her I don’t have the itch. It’s been gone since the first time.” 

Every Alpha knows the feeling. An unsettled urgency in the gut that leaves a constant need for one more round to get it out. Betas do nothing for it. It’s the reason so many of them end up injured or worse by Alphas trying to find satisfaction. Omegas bring well-needed relief, but it’s not complete. 

“Seriously?” Dean raises an eyebrow, checking if his brother is indeed serious. “Tell me how a bastard as coldhearted as you ends up with a true mate? That’s the universe fucking the rest of us. You’ve always been fucking lucky.”

“I’m not sure I would call dying in the battlefield and losing my soul, lucky.” 

“Maybe it’s not luck, but it’s something.” Dean thinks on this while they ride further. “Do you remember what you were like before?”

“Not that different from now.”

“You wouldn’t recognize yourself. Do you remember when you killed your first man? You were sixteen and you cried for a week.”

“No, I didn’t...did I?” 

“You did. I wasn’t sure you’d ever pick up a sword again. You don’t remember, do you?”

“I can’t remember anything from before. Feelings mostly, about dad, you. I have a few specific memories but nothing more than that.” 

“When you were little you were a sweet kid. You’d go out and pick flowers for mom. Bouquets of small yellow flowers wrapped up with twine.”

“Stop it,” Sam looks away, shifting in the saddle. 

“Call it whatever you want, luck, destiny, but be prepared to put up a fight if you want to keep her after dad gets wind of it. You know how he is about the Omegas. And she’s a prize, he’ll want her to give to some loyal-”

“He can try.” Sam shrugs. “And he’ll fail to take her. He knows better than to cross me.”

“Maybe,” Dean surmises, watching as they come upon the camp. 

[goodomensblog]

Afterward - Part 10

A Good Omens Choose Your Own Adventure Fic

Here’s how it works:

I’ll write a scene.

At the end of each scene, you’ll be presented with 2-3 options for what the characters will choose to do next.

Comment or reblog to vote for your choice. I’ll count all votes after the first 24 hours after each update is posted.

Read: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

(#1 won this round! It’s heist timeeee)

Afterward - - Part 10

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

“...so, in summation, we, well - slightly bent the rules and kept the jar of Hellfire.”

“How?”

“Swapped out the real jar with a fake and,” Gabriel shrugs, “the demon didn’t notice when he brought it back. Truthfully, the poor guy seemed a little-,” he stops, awkwardly grimacing as he taps a finger against his head.

“Idiot,” Beelzebub hisses, fingers curling, piercing the couch with jagged holes.

Gabriel waves a hand, and the shredded couch knits together.

“Works out for us though,” Crowley says.

Beelzebub, slumping in exhaustion, manages a nod. Extending a sharp nail, they reach out, poking a fresh hole in the newly repaired couch.

Aziraphale, glancing down, presses a staying hand on Beelzebub’s wrist. 

“Rest,” he counsels. “Save your energy. We don’t know how long it will take Gabriel to return with the Hellfire.”

‘Me?” 

Three sets of eyes are, at once, glaring at the Archangel.

“Obviously,” Crowley says, breaking the silence.

“Hey - I already told you it was here. I could have easily kept that to myself.”

“You are literally the only one here who can get it,” Crowley replies, incredulous.

“Yeah, well, I’m not going to,” Gabriel says, crossing his arms. “You all don’t even know what’s been going on in Heaven today. Frankly, it’s a mess. In fact, I should be out there right now, you know, doing my job. People are on high alert. It’s a whole thing. Even I couldn’t just walk on in and take the Hellfire.”

“Gabriel,” Beelzebub says, forcing their weak voice loud. “I’m not - I’m not asking you for a favor. I know - I know you wouldn’t - If you do this, I’ll pay up - I’ll pay up later. You know I’m good for it,” Beelzebub hisses, forehead creasing in pain. “Anything. Just - ugh,” shivering, the demon heaves a wheezing breath and goes quiet. 

Their dark gaze turns up, dull and half-lidded, as if they already know what the Archangel’s answer will be.

Gabriel had listened, holding himself rigid, posture perfectly straight. And now that Beelzebub has silenced, Gabriel turns his head down, nostrils flaring. He shakes his head.

“I cannot-”

“You can. And you will,” Aziraphale interrupts.

Gabriel turns at the interruption, lips curling into a sneer.

Aziraphale, bracing his hands on the couch, presses up. Beelzebub watches him rise, dark eyes unreadable.

Hands fisted at his sides, Aziraphale turns. Standing straight, he looks at Gabriel, head tilted to meet his eyes. 

“You’ll retrieve the Hellfire. Because Beelzebub is dying. And it is within your power to save them. And because,” and when Aziraphale pauses, drawing a breath, his wings flicker in and out of existence on this plane - and they don’t look quite right - but they’re gone before Crowley can see more than a glance.

“It is the right thing to do,” Aziraphale finishes, head held high.

“You don’t get to decide what is right-”

“I just did,” Aziraphale snaps. His fists are trembling.

Crowley, circling around Gabriel, curls his fingers, knuckles cracking as nails shift to claws. “I’d listen to the angel, Archangel.”

“Fighting will draw attention. Thought you wanted to avoid that, seeing as you are a traitor,” Gabriel says, shifting to keep both angel and demon within sight.

“Oh, I would prefer it, yes. However, I’m starting to think Heaven might be otherwise occupied today. What did you call it? A mess?” Aziraphale asks, stepping into a stance Crowley recognizes. Last time he’d stood like this, he was holding a flaming sword. “So I’m wondering if they’d notice a power surge at all. Especially from the residence of an Archangel.”

Shivers climb Crowley’s spine, because this is a side of Aziraphale he doesn’t get to see very often. Smiling, sharp as a knife, Crowley prowls, matching Aziraphale’s stance.

“Just say the word, Aziraphale,” Crowley calls, gleeful. 

He does usually prefer more creative methods to outright violence. But for Gabriel, who sent Aziraphale to burn with a cold, guiltless smile, Crowley is happy to make an exception. 

“I don’t want to drag you into this, Crowley,” Aziraphale says, eyes on Gabriel as he circumvents the coffee table.

“Please angel, you’d have to drag me out of it.” 

Crowley is moving opposite Aziraphale, keeping the Archangel perfectly between them. 

Gabriel spins, trying to face both of them at once.

“You have a choice to make, Gabriel,” Aziraphale calls.

“I can take you. Both of you,” Gabriel replies, the nervous edge in his voice undercutting his bold words.

“Maybe,” Aziraphale says - as Crowley calls out:

“Can you though?”

Violet eyes flick back and forth between them - and then to Beelzebub, pale and sunken on the couch.

Crowley is almost disappointed to see the fight go out of him. 

Tension bleeding from his rigid spine, Gabriel shrinks back. Letting out a string of sharp, ancient curses, Gabriel drags a hand down his face.

“Fine,” he says, vitriolic. “But I am not touching that damned jar. Someone will have to risk coming with me.” 

Cold eyes look to Crowley.

“Fine by me.”

Aziraphale, gaping, scurries between them. “No - no. Not fine.” Eyes wide, Aziraphale turns on Crowley. “You are not going out there. Not with him.”

“I can probably disguise myself well enough for a quick trip to the - er, wherever. Like Lil’ Gabbie said-”

“That is not my name.”

“Like Gabbers said, Heaven’s preoccupied today,” Crowley shrugs - and it has not escaped his notice that Gabriel has yet to reveal what precisely has Heaven so worked up. 

“They won’t notice me if I take steps to conceal myself. Besides,” and here Crowley pauses, lowering his voice. “Best someone keeps an eye on our favorite Archangel anyway. Ensure he doesn’t make any extra stops along the way.”

“I’m right here. I can hear literally everything you’re saying.”

Crowley, casually flicking his middle finger over Aziraphale’s shoulder, continues.

“Really angel. I’ll be fine. More than fine once I get my hands on the Hellfire.”

Behind Aziraphale, Gabriel shifts, his already rigid posture stiffening.

“Yeah, stop that. I’m not going to waste it on your sorry ass, Archangel.”

“Try it and I’d smite you where you stood.”

And then Aziraphale is turning, and the air is vibrating around them. 

“Touch him and I swear to God that I will end you, Gabriel,” Aziraphale says, the terrible timbre of truth resounding with a buzzing pressure, laying weight to his every word.

Crowley’s skin is prickling - in reaction to both the gathering power and Aziraphale’s words; heart in his throat, he reaches out, placing a staying hand on Aziraphale’s arm.

Electricity sparks between them. It is red - no blue, no, it’s black and white and silver and gold and -

Angel and demon start, pulling apart. 

The electricity fizzles out, curling and twisting into nothing, like smoke from a doused flame.

Crowley glances up, meeting Aziraphale’s startled gaze.

“What…?” 

“I don’t know,” Aziraphale answers, pale and hushed.

Behind them, Gabriel heaves a deep, exhausted sigh. 

“You two had to go fuck up something else, didn’t you?”

“We didn’t-” Aziraphale starts, bristling - then halts, glancing down at his wrist.

Crowley turns his own wrist over, inspecting the cut that is, by now, nearly healed.

“Huh.”

“Yeah huh. Look, I’ll deal with whatever fuckery you two managed to create later. You want the Hellfire or not?” Gabriel glances, as if on impulse, back at the couch. 

Beelzebub’s eyes have drifted closed.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale says, turning.

“I’ll be back before you know it, angel. Promise,” Crowley says, and believes it - because lying to his angel about something like this would be unforgivable. 

As if he can feel the truth, resonant, in Crowley’s words, Aziraphale stops. Lips pressing together, he looks Crowley up and down. Brows curving, concerned skin wrinkling between them, he says, chin quivering, “Crowley, I-”

“Are we going or not? Come on.”

Crowley reaches out, brushing his knuckles over the back of Aziraphale’s hand. There are no sparks, but Aziraphale, nonetheless, shivers beneath the touch.

“Don’t open the door for anyone, angel,” Crowley says, and with a snap, shifts his body. 

The Archangel Michael stands, slouching, in the center of the room. Pursing golden lips, Crowley removes his dark glasses.

“Seriously,” Gabriel says, flat and exhausted, “What happens if we run into the real one?”

Hands on his hips, Crowley shrugs, arching one of Michael’s manicured brows. 

“I am the real one. I’m walking around with the Archangel fucking Gabriel. The other one’s clearly the impostor.”

Eyes rolling to the ceiling, Gabriel heaves a deep breath. “Fine. Let’s just -”

Beelzebub, reaching out, grabs hold of Gabriel’s pants.

“Ten minutes,” Beelzebub says, voice quieter than a whisper. “Think I can last...ten more minutes. Understand....asshole?”

Gabriel’s expression is impossible to read. Lips pressing together in a hard, flat line, he drags his leg loose of Beelzebub’s grasp.

“Hey,” Gabriel calls with a sharp look toward Crowley and Aziraphale. “Is this happening, or not?”

Crowley, flicking his fingers in a mocking salute, gives Aziraphale one last lingering look. 

“Be back soon, angel.”

“I believe you,” Aziraphale says. Eyes wide, and hands wringing in front of him, he watches as Crowley step up to the door. 

“Gabriel,” Aziraphale calls as the door swings open. “What I said earlier - I meant it. Don’t lay a hand on him.”

Gabriel, casting a withering glance back into the apartment, slams the door.

Tapping a heel against gleaming marble floor, Crowley turns a long look at the arching halls.

Heaven.

“Try not to sully it with your sin,” Gabriel says, and sets off at a brisk pace down the hall.

Crowley, sneering at the back of his head, flips him off with Michael’s manicured hand, and strides purposefully after.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

After six thousand years, Crowley again walks Heaven’s halls….

A fun one this time! Choose how much energy Crowley will devote to “getting along” with Gabriel on their Hellfire acquisition mission:

0% energy - Crowley will be 100% bastard. Because Gabriel is the actual worst and he deserves it.

50% energy - Crowley will be reasonably civil - unless Gabriel is really asking for it. They do have limited time, but Crowley isn’t about to let Gabriel walk all over him.

100% energy - Crowley promised Aziraphale that he would return unscathed. If he has to play nice with Gabriel to ensure his safe return, he will.

Comment or reblog to vote :) (ALSO thank you all so much for voting and participating in this! I just absolutely love reading your thoughts behind why you are voting for any given option.)

Read Part 11 Here

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Hermit Rivals: Skizz and Logic

this is a bunch of short scenes put together based on the tiny amount of Skizz/Logic content we got in twitch rivals: hermit raiders :D they don’t really blend together very well but i couldn’t figure out how to do it so enjoy anyway lol

…

Waiting in the lobby for the competition to start, LogicalGeekBoy is talking strategy with his team when he feels something poking him in the back. He turns and finds himself face to face with a grinning Skizzleman. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Logic chuckles. “What’s up?”

“I’m gonna beat you,” says Skizz. “I can’t beat Impulse cuz he’s on my team so you’re next on my list of friends I wanna beat.”

“Oho, fighting talk, huh?” teases Logic.

“You bet! You may be one of the smartest people I know but I bet my team can beat you in a fighting-based competition.”

“Okay, you know what? You’re on.” Logic grins. “Forget first place; my only goal is to beat your team.”

Skizz grins back. “Oh, you are ON! You’re not gonna know what hit you!”

Logic laughs as he watches Skizz bound off back to his team. “So easy to wind up.”

“We better beat their team now,” remarks Doc.

Logic nods. “Oh yeah, losing is NOT an option. If he beats me, I’m not gonna hear the end of it for weeks. Maybe the rest of my life.”

On the other side of the lobby, Skizz bounces up to his teammates. “GUYS. We gotta beat Team Doc!”

“Okay, why them, specifically?” False asks.

“Because if I don’t beat Logic now, he’s gonna lord it over me for the rest of my life.”

“Are you sure you’re not thinking of yourself?” asks Impulse teasingly.

“Shut up, I hate you.”

…

“Uh, guys?” Doc’s voice comes over their team comms line. “I don’t want to alarm anyone but I’m currently being attacked by iJevin.”

“What?!” Logic yelps.

“Oh, this is the hermit mob round,” says Xisuma, sounding unfazed. “The waves this time are mobs retextured to look like the players in the event.”

“Well, THAT’s not disturbing at all,” Doc responds wryly.

Logic quickly slices down a mob version of fWhip, before darting around a house to find a lone mob he can see highlighted behind it.

But he stops dead as he registers the mob standing there.

“Oh no…!”

Mob-Skizz immediately starts moving towards him, arms up, trying to reach him to attack. Its movement is clearly that of a zombie but Logic is still frozen, his sword hanging limply in his grip. He doesn’t want to attack his friend.

“Skizz, please, I…! I don’t wanna hurt you…!”

As he backs away, trying to think of something else he can do, he feels his heel catch something and he topples backwards. He looks up to find Mob-Skizz advancing on him, within a few blocks of attacking. His sword is within reach but…

Logic’s rational mind knows this is just a mindless zombie made to look like his friend but he can’t bring himself to strike something that looks like Skizz, even when said thing is attacking him. He strains against Mob-Skizz as it starts raking its claws down his arms and trying to bite him.

Then he hears the sound of a mob taking damage and the pressure is lifted from his arms. Logic barely has time to breathe before he’s grabbed by the hand and hauled to his feet.

“Logic, FOCUS,” Doc scolds him. “We can’t afford to waste time dying!”

Logic watches Doc run back into the fray before taking a moment to inspect his arms. Several long red welts stare back at him.

He grimaces. Come on, Logic… It’s not the real Skizz attacking you. You think Skizz would hesitate to kill a mob looking like you? Get a grip.

…

“Oh no, all the mobs are hermits!” yelps Impulse, almost toppling off the roof of the house he’s perched on. “Skizz, get them towards the pit!”

Skizz immediately takes off running but as he’s luring the hermit-mobs towards the lava pit, something catches his eye. Out of all the hermit-mobs swarming towards him, one particular one causes his stomach to lurch.

“Skizz, let’s GO,” False’s impatient voice snaps.

Blinking himself out of his thoughts, Skizz dodges around Mob-Logic and leads a whole group of them carefully to the lava pit they’ve made. He jumps over and turns back to check it’s working.

And it is; the mobs try to follow Skizz over the opened trapdoors and fall straight into the lava below.

Skizz cheers. “Woo, look at that! It’s working!”

But his grin quickly falls as he spots THAT mob again, falling into the lava pit. He has to catch himself before he yells Logic’s name, as if it’s his real friend sinking into the lava. Mob-Logic is staring up at him with wide eyes, Logic’s eyes, as it dies a fiery death.

Unable to bear it any longer, Skizz takes off running and shuts himself in one of the houses, breathing deeply in and out to quell the nausea threatening to spill out of him.

“Skizz, where did you go?” comes False’s voice over the comms.

“I-I need a moment...!”

Impulse clearly hears the emotion in Skizz’s voice, and he’s known Skizz long enough to realise immediately what’s affecting his best friend. “Skizz, it’s not real,” he says reassuringly. “I know it’s hard but you have to see them as the mobs they are, not our friends.”

“You don’t understand,” whispers Skizz.

He opens his mouth again but he can’t find the right words. How is he supposed to explain how awful the churning in his stomach at the sight of his close friend dying in lava was? The way Logic’s eyes looked back at him as if asking “why would you do this to me…?” How agonising it was to fight against every instinct in his body screaming at him to jump into the lava pit and save his friend?

After a moment, he sighs. Come on, Skizz. Logic’s probably got no problem with killing a mob that looks like you. Get a grip.

…

In the lobby at the end of the round, False is looking at her team captains’ communication line. “Looks like Team Doc’s round is bugged,” she reports.

Skizz is immediately alert; that’s Logic’s team. “Are they okay?”

False nods. “Yeah, apparently the game seems to think there’s two raid guys left but they can’t see anything highlighted and it says zero of seventy-five on the side of their screen.”

“Oh, you’re right,” says Impulse, seeing 0/75 written next to Team Doc’s name on his screen. “It’s stuck on zero. What are they gonna do?”

“Just let the round end naturally, apparently.”

“Aw man,” mutters Skizz. He hopes Logic’s doing okay; he knows his friend has a thing about bugs and glitches.

But down in the village, Logic just wants this round to end. Exhausted from searching for the final two raid mobs their screen says still exist, Logic is morosely gathering up the hay bales from around the village. They had been doing so well. Sure, they weren’t on track to win or anything. But they may have at least gotten fourth or fifth, but now they’ll be sixth by default. All thanks to the stupid glitch. That’s points thrown away that they can’t afford to lose.

“The admins say they’re gonna put us down joint fifth with Team False,” Doc reports after a while. “Two points.”

“Better than one,” Xisuma mutters.

This actually helps Logic feel better. He knows their team can’t win but it would be nice to beat Skizz’s team.

…

Wandering around the lobby, listening to Doc and Xisuma argue strategies over their team comms line, Logic spots a dandelion lying on the floor. He picks it up and, after a quick scan of the area to find a specific person, trots over to the corner of the lobby where Team False are having a meeting.

“-why whatever we face next will be-.” False breaks off as she spots him approaching. “Hey! Logic! Get outta here!”

“Team meeting, man, c’mon,” Skizz, who is sitting with his back to the wall, adds. “Get outta here. Can't be stealing our strategies, dude.”

Logic silently places the flower on Skizz’s knee and takes a few steps back.

As he registers what the item is, Skizz glances up sheepishly. “Oh. Thanks, buddy.”

Logic just smiles. He and Skizz both know he tends to not speak much in social situations involving people he isn’t fully comfortable with.

“Yeah yeah, great, now get outta here,” False says brusquely. “This is our meeting place.”

In response, Logic sits down next to Skizz, looking expectantly up at False.

Impulse and Skizz both snicker at False’s exasperated eye-roll. “Skizz, make your friend go away.”

Skizz nudges Logic in the side. “You heard the captain, bro. We gotta talk strategy.”

Logic’s sad frown almost makes Skizz change his mind on the spot. He gives a chuckle and pats him on the shoulder. “Bro, you know I love you, but you’re not on our team. I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”

After a moment, Logic nods, stands up, and starts walking away.

Skizz watches him go, then jumps to his feet. “Hold on, be right back,” he says quickly to his teammates.

He rushes after Logic and catches him just turning the corner. “Wait a sec, Logic.”

Logic turns, smiling at his friend. “What’s up?”

Skizz hesitates, then clasps Logic’s hands and presses a small item into them. “Stay safe, buddy,” he says earnestly, before turning and rushing back to his team.

Logic stares after him for a moment before opening his hands to check the item Skizz gave him.

It’s a totem of undying.

…

Logic is perched atop the sky island, firing down on the ghasts from above. Far down on the ground, he can see the figures of Doc and Xisuma taking on the ground mobs. Even though he’s not great at fighting, Logic is far better with a bow than a sword.

A ghast screech behind him causes him to spin round. To his horror, he finds a ghast staring directly at him from less than a hundred blocks away, a fireball already flying towards him. He swings his axe back, ready to try and hit it back at the flying mob, but he mis-hits and the fireball knocks him clean off the island. And it’s only now that he realises he forgot to grab the elytra from the chest.

Logic can’t help a scream as he plummets, hands fumbling for anything he can use to save himself. But he has no hay bales, no buckets of water, no elytra. Nothing except…

His fingers close around the totem of undying JUST before he hits the ground. The loud explosion-like sound and spray of green sparkles lets him know the totem worked. He hurriedly scrambles into the nearest house and shuts the door, breathing heavily.

“Logic, you okay?” comes Xisuma’s voice over the radio.

“Y-Yeah, all good,” replies Logic shakily. “Gimme a second.”

He checks himself down. No injuries anywhere.

A smile spreads over his face. “Thanks for looking out for me, Skizz,” he murmurs.

…

Skizz sits on the stairs leading up to the seating area, absently twirling the flower in his hand. As is the same after every event, his mind is occupied by racing thoughts and ideas of how he could have done better.

“Penny for ‘em?” comes a friendly voice.

Skizz glances up to find Logic coming up the stairs towards him. “Hey, buddy. Nah, you don’t wanna hear about my stupid thoughts.”

Logic sits down next to Skizz. “Try me.”

After a moment, Skizz sighs. “I dunno, I just can’t help feeling that I held my team back. We came last overall and… it was probably my fault.”

“No, dude, I can assure you it wasn’t,” responds Logic kindly. “Nobody held their team back. You’re always gonna feel like that on a team with two hermits.”

“Did you feel like that?”

“Yeah, I did. I always do when I’m in the presence of hermits. It’s only natural, really. You feel like an imposter almost, like you shouldn’t be playing with such esteemed people. Like even your best will pale in comparison to their average. Like…”

As Logic trails off, Skizz glances sideways at him and finds him staring numbly into thin air. “You okay…?”

Logic blinks himself out of his thoughts. “Oh. Yeah, sorry. Anyway, my point is don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“It’s hard not to be,” responds Skizz morosely. “I don’t think I can name a single useful thing I did that wasn’t what False or Impulse told me to do.”

“I can,” Logic says immediately.

Skizz raises an eyebrow. “How would you know? What can I have done that you would know about?”

“You gave me the totem of undying,” replies Logic pointedly.

Skizz stares at him for a moment. “Wait… really…?”

Logic nods. “I fell off the top island in the fourth round. No elytra, no water, nothing. That totem you gave me saved my life. Even if that was the only useful thing you did unprompted in the whole game, which I doubt, it was worth it to me.”

“Aww…” Skizz puts his arm over Logic’s shoulder. “I’m glad I could help you out, brother.”

The two fall silent for a moment.

Then Logic clears his throat. “So… those mobs that looked like us…”

“Creepy as hell.”

“Extremely creepy,” agrees Logic. “It was cool at first but when a mob that looked like you was trying to bite my face off, it wasn’t quite as cool.”

Skizz blinks. “Oh jeez, that sounds terrifying.”

“And painful too,” Logic says, holding up his hands to show off the red claw marks down his arms.

“Wait, wait, what?!” Skizz stares at the wounds in shock. “That was mob-me?!”

“Yeah, it was vicious. Nearly killed me.”

“Oh gosh…” Skizz shivers. “I’m so sorry.”

Logic laughs. “Skizz, it was a zombie retextured to look like you! You have no reason to apologise.”

After a moment, Skizz nods. “I guess. And hey, I had to watch a mob that looked like you get burned alive in lava, so…”

“All in all, a very good round for nightmares, then.”

“You’re telling me.”

Another pause follows this, punctuated by Skizz rising to his feet and stretching. “Man, I’m worn out. Wanna go hang out with the gang before we go home? Say goodbye to everyone?”

“Thanks, but I don’t think I’d be very good company,” Logic responds. “I’m pretty tired and there wouldn’t be much point in me being there if I don’t talk anyway.”

“You’re always good company to me, brother,” says Skizz warmly. “Even when you don’t talk.”

Logic can’t help a smile. “Thanks. Okay then, I’ll come along.”

“Awesome!”

As the two head down the stairs, Logic adds, “And you usually do a pretty good job at interpreting for me, anyway.”

“Usually?” Skizz pretends to be affronted. “Uh, I’m AMAZING at reading your thoughts, thank you very much.”

Logic chuckles. “Uh huh, sure. You know what you're NOT amazing at?"

"What?" asks Skizz warily.

"Beating me in a fighting-based competition."

"OKAY LISTEN-."

[solohux]

Do you have a list of famous/must read fic, since I'm knew to the Fandom I'm just overwhelmed buy the amount of fics lmao. (I've already read Honeycomb, loved it)

Ahhwelcome to the fandom! Gladly! I’ll just clarify my list first, though. If youwant famous, then I suggest just starting at the top of the Most Hits filter of theAO3 tag.

Personally, what I consider famous and what Iconsider a must read are different so I hope that’s okay! This will be alist of my favourite must read fics though it’s by no means exclusiveand it’s just my own personal opinion. Enjoy! (•⊙ω⊙•)

(and apologies to mobile users! I know the Read More function doesn’t always work on mobile and this is a long post!!)

- allthat you love will be carried away by @ceruleancynicHux, sent to retrieve Kylo Ren from the dying Starkiller Base,has lost almost everything, and has little patience or tolerance left foranyone or anything–particularly not Snoke’s pet pseudo-Sith and his amateurtheatrics. But you do the job that is in front of you, to the best of yourability, and you hold on as long as you can.

- WakeUp, Sleeper by @penpenhoorayIt would seem odd that the Resistance should always seem to get theirinformation just a bit faster than the First Order. Of course, General LeiaOrgana knows the risks her mole is taking by sending her life savinginformation. Luke was confident in his padawan’s ability to infiltrate theFirst Order to destroy it from the inside, and he trusted his pupil’sinstincts. And Hux? Well, he’s spent over a decade as a sleeper agent withinthe bowels of the First Order when he feels an awakening in the Force, and he’sdecided it’s time to begin the destruction of the First Order. And he’s goingto bring Ben back to the Light if it’s the last thing he does.

- Reconditioningby @jinxedambitionsBen Solois one of the FBI’s most promising young agents. While he’s had a fewdisciplinary hiccups, he’s intelligent and not afraid to do what needs to bedone. His personal life is a mess, and he may not look like your typicalfederal agent, but he might be the only man for this job. Ben’s looking for apromotion and something like the glory his parents always talked about beforehe was born. The FBI is looking to take down one of the country’s most elusiveprostitution rings, specializing in the types of sex that Ben’s boss has onlyread about in the novel his wife hides under the bed. Ben is going undercoveras a “slave” in order to gather information on the ring’s leaders,purchasing a premium package from the agency. 30 days as a slave to aprofessional Master, and a guaranteed sexual experience of a lifetime.  Hegets chosen by Hux, or the General as he insists Ben call him, and he quickly realizesthat no training could have prepared him for this experience. Every day, Ben,or Kylo as he is known at the club, finds out more and more about theorganization, but the more he learns the less he wants to destroy them.

- Tothe Pure by @kdazraelDear siror madam, I am General Hux of the Resurgent-class Star Destroyer Finalizer. Iwas recently strong-armed by a colleague into joining an order of mysticknight-warriors and now they want me take part in their team-building orgies.Please advise.

- Bodies,Can’t You See? by sual When Hux sees the positive result on the pregnancy test scanner, he comes toseveral alarming realizations all at once. One: that his birth control has beentampered with. Two: that the baby is Kylo’s. Three: that this is his truepunishment for Starkiller’s failure. And quietly, in a weak, tiny voice in theback of his mind, the unsettling conclusion that he wants to keep it. He’ll diebefore he lets anyone near his child. He’ll tear apart anyone that tries to getin his way. Even Kylo.             

- FollowingOrders by @redcoleSnoke decides that Kylo needs to produce an heir so they can continue hisline and Hux finds himself lined up as the other father.  

- Sevento One by @anorlostHux is trying to keep everything under control as he suddenly has seven Rens tocontend with.  As he tries to keep them from destroying his ship, he failsto notice that the Knights of Ren have other plans.  Plans thatinvolve…cuddling.

- Flickerin the Void by @mothdustmouthHux watched in silence as the light swept over his body. The power stunned him,as did the bright jet of flame as it licked its color into his eyes. This wasnot the calm brightness of last night in the presence of Kylo Ren. This was adifferent sort of light altogether, massive and deadly. It overwhelmed him. Fora moment Hux felt an aching regret deep within himself, the sob of someone heused to be, bubbling up from the cold.          

- Progenyby @geishacombGeneralHux has not allowed the Supreme Leader back into his bed since the events ofTLJ. But when he does, the consequences are far graver than either he or Rencould have ever imagined.

-  ASong of Crows by Ficlet-Machine (Wordsmith) (WIP)WarchiefHux has just buried his trusted Crow, and, if the Gods still favour him, a newone will find their way to his lands. Hux may be young, but he is a good leaderfor his people. He is ready for the commitment, the responsibility, the changesthat come with a new child of the Gods at his command. The clan needs it, needsit spiritual leader if they are ever to claim ownership of all the lands fromhere to the Core Kingdoms. Raised a warrior, he is more than ready to paint theworld red in honor of his gods. He may, however, not be entirely ready for whathe will feel the first time he meets the haunted and tormented eyes of theyoung Crow called Kylo Ren.

- TheEmperor’s New Consort by @redcoleThe First Order is in control of the Galaxy, in a last ditch effort to savethose who are left, they request negotiations. Only to find that for theResistance to survive they only need to give up one thing small thing - the angry Senator Ben Organa.

- herecomes the first day by @inguThe moment Hux threw himself in front of the blaster shot meant for Kylo Renwas the moment he realised that he had well and truly gone out of his mind.(Or, the one where Hux tries to save the life of Kylo Ren and accidentally saveshimself in the process.)

- volitionby @bygoneboy“Kylo Ren,” Hux says, feeling humiliated as the words leave his mouth, “is notinfatuated with me—”  “My apprentice is easily led,” Snoke continues, as if Hux hasn’t spoken. “He isdriven by impulse, emotion. These fixations are distractions to his true path,and they are things I will break in him, when he is ready. In the meantime…” Hewaves a knotted, spider-veined hand toward Hux, as if in dismissal. “You willassist me, in sating his desires.”pre-tfa. hux is issued orders to seduce kylo ren. chaos ensues.  

- WeHang Side By Side by @reserveBefore Kylo Ren can complete his training, he must retrieve a Sith artifactfrom the Bothan System. Hux goes along with.

- ExMachina by sualAn AUinspired by Ex Machina where Ben Solo never became Kylo Ren, General Hux is adroid that used to be human, and they might just be what the other needs.Warning for a whole lot of robophilia and cruel and unusual uses for droids.

- FriendsWith Renefits by @moonwalkingcrabThe Rules:1. Just sex, no feelings2. The arrangement lasts as long as is beneficial3. Either party can choose to end the arrangement, no questions asked4. No kissing

- Starfuckerby @agent-nemesisKylo Renfollows a suspicious noise and finds a secret room. When he makes it inside, hecan’t quite believe his eyes.

- AnAlpha’s Pride by @sinceyouaskedmeforataleofHux hasgotten Kylo pregnant, and is infatuated with his changing body. He is sodistracted by the way Kylo’s belly is rounding out beneath his robes and hispectorals are swelling in anticipation of nursing that it takes everything inhim to keep from fucking him right on the bridge.

- Babe,I’m Here Again by @sinceyouaskedmeforataleof (WIP)It’s 2008 and graduate student Armitage Hux has no idea why hes still hangingout with that nerd of a second year Ben Solo. Surely he had better things to dothat sit around planning Dungeons & Dragons adventures with this not-at-all-attractiveAlpha who he definitely doesn’t think about constantly. A tale of illness,heartbreak, unexpected gifts, new beginnings, and rediscovery. Featuring twoidiots who don’t realise how much they love each other until its almost toolate.

- Bittersweetand Strange by @obsessions-and-dreamsIn a castle surrounded by a forest, lived a prince who became a monster.In aquiet village on the other side of the woods lived an unhappy young man withbig dreams.A Kylux Beauty and the Beast AU.

- Sunstrokeby @ballvvasherSupreme Leader Snoke gives Kylo Ren a mission to strengthen the Knights’ of Renhold on the First Order. Set several years before the events of Episode VII.Story contains mpreg, medical torture, and sexual assault.

- TheGuilty Bystander by @cthene  “You like this story, don’t you Ren? It’s awfully romantic. Let’s pretend it’strue. Let’s pretend we conspired together to overthrow him.”  Hux gets inover his head.

- Psychomachiaby @longstoryshortikilledhimBy thetime the events of SW:TFA unfold, Armitage Hux and Kylo Ren are bitter exes.This is what happened before.

- TheFall by @rosensilenceWhen Resistance smuggler Kylo Ren is captured and brought aboard the Finalizer,General Hux gets more than he was expecting.  It isn’t long before thingsare spiraling out of Hux’s usually tight control.     

- Unexpectedby @gonna-pop (WIP)After twenty years together, Ben and Armitage have gotten comfortable. Thereare no surprises left in their marriage, and nothing new to learn about eachother. That is, until Armitage unexpectedly goes into heat while they’revacationing on a resort world — and a few days of renewed passion changes thecourse of their lives.

- Convivial Society by @vadiannaLeia doesn’t know what to think when she sees the report about two First Order prisoners taken by surprise. They are suspected First Order officers, but the field can’t verify this.She understands better when General Hux is brought before her, obviously caught in the middle of some rather intense sexual intercourse. She has to ask.

- KnockedUp by @agent-nemesis“Areyou ready?” Kylo asks Hux stupidly, realising the question is moredirected at himself.Hux answers with a cry, and then his panic rises again.Kylo hunches over him, cocooning him protectively. “You can do this,” he whispers. “I know you can do this.”“I can’t,” Hux whimpers, shaking his head. “They’re too big. Ican’t.”“You’re a general of the First Order,” Kylo says softly in his ear. “TheGeneral. The strongest man I know. You can do this.”

- GameOver by limit_breakerLate one night in the officer’s lounge, Kylo Ren challenges General Hux to agame of billiards. That might have been a mistake.

- Pillarsof Salt by @francisthegreatIn whicha young priest learns the meaning of temptation.

- AcademyStyle by @eralkfang“It’s nota question of desire, it’s a question of logistics.”

- SoSoft (And So Terrible) by @theearlgreyalphaGeneral Hux realizes that maybe he’s capable of being a little compassionateafter all, when Kylo Ren winds up in his doorway in the middle of the night.

- Don’tBe Shy (You’ve Been Here Before) by @cut-off-the-grainThe call of the Light, the call of the Dark, have never been so tempting asHux’s hands in his hair as Hux wrangles him this way and that with only thegentlest of touches against his scalp. Hux moves him, moulds him, guides him,in the same exacting manner he does battle plans and blueprints, but with alanguidness which has no place in warfare. Instead of harsh words and reprimandsfor failure there is only Hux whispering “shh, darling, calm down, norush" until Ren is trembling and desperate, his hands and his mind full ofHux, Hux, Hux.

- bodiesagainst by @brawliteGeneral Hux buys himself a present. He ends up sharing said present with theKnights of Ren, who shamelessly barge in on his personal leave time.

- Pasiphaeby @vadiannaWhile depressed one night, Kylo Ren decides to jerk out his sorrows to hisfavorite holoporn vids, starring Major Fuxx and his parade of alien partners. Major Fuxx bears a striking resemblance to General Hux, which is part ofthe appeal, but he suddenly realizes that they may have more in common thantheir looks…

- ForgetHow to Feel by @onewhositswiththeturtlesHux grewup being told that feeling emotions was weak and shameful. If he ever wanted tobe successful he would need to dispel them or use Sinaffec, a drug that mutesemotions. Now Hux has been appointed General of the First Order and relocatedto Starkiller Base. It has been years since he needed Sinaffec to control hisemotions but that changes when Snoke’s apprentice, Kylo Ren, arrives.Ren seemscapable of invoking every emotion in Hux - first irritation but then other,deeper emotions Hux refuses to acknowledge. But when Ren starts talking aboutsoul mates and force bonds, Hux can only deny his feelings for so long untilhis must make a choice: take Sinaffec indefinitely or surrender to his emotionsand see where they lead him.

- MeetMe Halfway by @callmelyss“I don’tdo that,” Hux responds in an undertone before he realizes. He flushes—hard—andscowls. “If that will be all, Supreme Leader…” He turns on his heel withoutwaiting to be dismissed and starts to stalk back the way he came, grateful, asever, for the wide sweep of his greatcoat, the padded shoulders making him feelless—small.He’s halfway out of the room (and what a waste of space) when what he said mustcatch up with Ren: “You mean you…never?”He freezes, every muscle in his body tensing. Won’t say it out loud. No, heemphasizes, clear as he can. Knowing Ren will hear, knowing he will see itregardless, terrible nosy busybody that he is. I haven’t.

- Bombshellby @cosleia        Departmentstore employee Ben Organa learns something new about the gorgeous redhead whoalways requests his help selecting lingerie.

- Touchby @kyluxtrashpit         When Huxfinds himself falling into bed with Kylo Ren, he wants nothing more than tocompletely take Ren apart. He finds a way to do just that.

- Carpetburns by @ellstra   Hux’sfascination with Imperial officers is not only professional. Kylo decides Huxdeserves to relieve the pressure of command for once, and buys an Imperialuniform from Space ebay™.

- In myveins by @ellstra           Hux hadbeen hiding his Force-sensitivity for years, using it sparsely and with greatcaution, but it only takes one mission gone wrong and all his carefully builtdefences shatter to protect Kylo. Snoke is always eager to use up all power hecan get.

- Understandingby @onewhositswiththeturtles       Throughthe Force Rey accidentally witnesses an intimate moment between her twogreatest enemies, Kylo Ren and General Hux. Despite her hatred towards the twomen for what they’ve done to the Resistance, Rey is forced to learn andunderstand that everyone is fighting for something.

- LifeThrough Glass by @moonwalkingcrab     Hux’s life is fairly simple, he has his work, he has his cat, and he has hisflat. Now it seems he has a new neighbour. With windows so close together it’seasy to fall into the world of Kylo Ren.      

-and lead us not into temptation by @liesmythHux looks him up and down, this Resistance golden boy, gangly and ungraceful and so appallingly soft. Takes a drag of his cigarette. “You’re weak,” he says.Solo looks up at him. “Please.” He draws in a long, broken breath. “Please.” Or: General Hux thinks about Ben Solo a lot more than he probably should.

- The Interrogation Game by @jinxedambitions    Kylo Ren finds himself strapped to his own interrogation table, getting a lesson from General Hux.  Pain isn’t the only interrogation technique, perhaps not even the most effective.  Strapped down with nowhere to go, Kylo is at Hux’s mercy.  If he just tells Hux what he wants to hear, he might find relief from this overwhelming pleasure…but it isn’t that simple.

- Forceless by @sinningsquire  Ren has lost the one thing that defined him from before he was even born. Somehow this results in a mad dash through the Galaxy, with more bloodshed that two men should be able to bring on, and with one happy ending under a starry canopy of a summer night.     

- Like a Vicious Dove by @thevulcanpresidentIt has been a year since Hux destroyed Snoke and took the galaxy for his own, a year since Kylo Ren pledged his service to the new emperor. When Hux gets kidnapped, he trusts his knight to rescue him. 

- Rule by @thez1337After the events on the rebel base, and the escape of some of the highest commanding rebel leaders, Kylo Ren takes Snokes place as head of the First Order. General Hux seeths, and his own secret ambition at ruling the Galaxy isn’t quite so secret.      

- All’s Fair… by @nonsensicalsoliloquy    "You missed me.“  Hux frowned, “I did not miss you, Ren. I didn’t miss your arrogance, petulance, or destruction of my ship anymore than you missed me and my refusal to cow to your whims.“  Ren only leaned in closer, his frustratingly large body nearly flush with Hux’s slender one. "What makes you think I didn’t miss you?”OR: The tension’s been building and building seemingly every day since the moment they met, and it appeared as if Ren had decided it was time it ended.  

- Take Me or Leave Me by kyluxicle (LadyCamillus), oorsprong    When Kylo Ren returns from training with Leader Snoke, he comes back more collected and focused. While Hux appreciates this newfound control, he misses the passion that Ren used to have—especially towards him. In attempt to get Ren back into his bed, Hux sets his sights on a lesser officer in order to bring out Ren’s jealousy. Either Ren will snap out of this cold persona and take him back, or Hux will have to settle for less.  

- Politics by @sithofrenHux has an unusual request for his birthday. He wants to ‘capture’ Senator Organa-Solo. Kylo Ren agrees.

- Game Over by @onewhositswiththeturtlesHux has a combat simulation program developed for all First Order personnel and has a sim of himself as the final boss. He congratulates himself when the program becomes a massive success, unaware of the fact that hackers have changed the coding to dress his sim in increasingly scandalous outfits. When Hux finds out that Ren is spending a large amount of time in the sim he gets suspicious and pulls up the video logs of Ren’s sessions, only to realize that Ren is seeking much more than combat training from Hux’s sim. After some thought and planning, Hux decides to give Ren the real thing.

- The Lingerie Incident by @thesunandoceanblue  Hux doesn’t want to be thinking of Leia while he’s tugging down his pants. Instead he thinks of Kylo, and how he’d react to this. He’d be terribly jealous. His secret revealed. To his mother of all people. Hux grimaces in amusement as he shimmies his pants down with one hand, the other holding his coat.    

- Fractured by @kyluxtrashpitWhen Kylo returns from a meeting with his master broken and wrong, it becomes clear that Snoke has gone too far. Hux is left to not only pick up the pieces, but to put them back together again while considering the past and the future.

- Generosity by  orphan_account                Dressed down to his undershirt – which had become far too crinkled for his taste – Hux sported his uniform pants, minus the boots, however, left in his warm, black bed socks (He doesn’t like cold, okay?). And he also had his tongue buried in Kylo Ren’s ass.

- Sweet Redolence by @jakathineWhat happens when the desire to best your opponent turns into a desire to bed them instead…and then fate pushes you together rather Forcefully.

- A Vulpine by any other Name by levitheking & @omega-hux   Hux wasn’t fully Human, his Vulpine Heritage plain as day with his ears and tail. His new co-commander turns out to be a Vulpine as well. Tensions are high and compromises must be made. Until Hux comes up with his most devious plan yet.

- My Own Breath by @saltandlimesHux has only ever caught glimpses of Kylo Ren’s face, short moments when the knight’s helmet is off. After an incident in the hangar, he realizes he needs to see more.

- Matches to Paper Dolls  by @ctheneOn a mission from Supreme Leader Snoke to recover a lost Jedi artifact from the Smuggler’s Moon of Nar Shaddaa, Kylo Ren and General Hux are accidentally drugged.  In addition to spice, it seems, the Hutt crime lord Grakkus was also a purveyor of powerful black market aphrodisiacs. With no choice but to copulate immediately, Hux must talk a terrified virgin Ren through the whole unpleasant, humiliating process.  Upon returning to the Finalizer, Hux is ready to pretend nothing happened.  Ren, however, deeply affected by Hux’s kindness to him throughout the ordeal, can’t put the experience behind him so easily.

- Who’s Your Master? by @groffictionHux murmured softly, “You don’t need punishment tonight, Ren. You need rest.”“But, I want… I want this… need this,” Kylo protested weakly, reaching around to nuzzle at Hux’s boots.

- tender is the night lying by your side by @thethespacecoyote    Emperor Hux misses his mate dearly, even when he’s away clinching their reign. Thankfully, an alpha as powerful as Kylo Ren can overcome even the furthest reaches of the galaxy to tend to his omega’s desires.      

- Forced Perspective by @gamebird   Kylo Ren and Hux are stranded on a jungle world after negotiations go bad. Kylo is badly wounded, his life resting in Hux’s treacherous hands. His take on the reasons for his survival are very different from Hux’s. 

- Chosen Ones by @babbushkaIn the middle of the night memories come rushing back, thankfully Hux and Kylo have each other to hold when they do.  

- Zip it by @centurytwitch   Hux feels that his contributions to the First Order are worthy of an award. He’s not expecting a new rank, though that would be nice. What he really wants is a new uniform to acknowledge the mental wear and tear he endures, the duty he fulfills every cycle.Kylo thinks otherwise.    

- Putting you Back Together but Betterby @techiehuxThere is value to Hux yet, besides being a minor nuisance and occasional source of entertainment. With a few… improvements, he could be ferocious on the battlefield, commanding respect and demanding it in turn.

- No Rest for the Wicked by @embershx​Kylo sees Hux sleeping in their bed and can’t help himself.

- The Escape of the Fox by @theweddingofthefoxes       After the First Order is defeated and Rey becomes Leia’s heir, Kylo Ren and General Hux are both fugitives, and they haven’t seen one another in years. Ren settles into a hermetic existence selling kyber, but when he learns Hux is still alive, he goes to find him under the pretense of staging a coup. But there’s another reason he wants to see Hux again….

I’m going to leave it there! I’ve been at this list on-and-off for about 2 hours, looking through my bookmarks and favourites, and there are still a tonne more but this felt enough to satiate you, anon! Remember, this list is just my personal recommendation of what I believe are must-read fics for a newcomer! They’re fun, they’re all written brilliantly and all amazingly represent the two space nerds that we love!

I’ll make a part 2 if anyone is interested but for now, happy reading!!! ❤️

[thedistantdusk]

Idk if you write things on request, but i would love a little story about Ginny talking about how Harry wants to have kids. <3

Ok... so I wasn’t going to write a follow up. And then I got this. And it’s an adorable idea. Sooo thanks, Anonymous! :D 

On AO3.

Ginny and Hermione have been sitting in awkward silence for… Hermione checks her watch… approximately three minutes.

And honestly, Hermione’s at a total loss.

She heaves a sigh and stares at her friend from across the kitchen table at the Burrow. Ginny’s face is nearly as red as her hair, her eyes trained on the wood grain. Ginny’s always been the one who navigates social graces, who makes emotional inferences, who leads conversations.

But now? Hermione bites her lip. Ginny’s much more reminiscent of the girl who’d put her elbow in the butter dish than of the woman who’d spent a year leading an underground rebellion against a blood supremacist.

As such, Hermione’s only inkling as to the source of Ginny’s dilemma is that it somehow involves Harry.

So as weird and uncomfortable as it is to wait, Hermione also knows that Ginny will come around. In time. Ginny’s picked a good opportunity to have this conversation; Harry and Ron are both at Andromeda’s, taking care of some yard work that Andromeda has left unattended since Teddy’s started teething.

Hermione doesn’t envy that — any part of that. She thinks Teddy’s adorable, of course… but he’s also an enormous, life-changing responsibility. The thought of dealing with one of those at 18 years old is something that makes Hermione grateful she’s been well-versed in contraception since she’d entered puberty. She shudders and takes a draw from the steaming mug in front of her, thankful she won’t have to deal with that for eons and eons.

Now that Hermione’s thinking about how smart it was to be prepared (and to have those early conversations with her boyfriend), she can’t think about anything else — and before she’s realized it, she’s spent several long minutes lingering in a fog of her own smugness.

But then, with all the emotional intuition of an actual little sister, Ginny blurts out three words… and in doing so, she both reads Hermione’s mind. And scares her to death.

“Harry wants babies.”

…what the effing…

Hermione chokes and sputters, trying not to spray hot tea across the table. And she’s not quiet about it. She coughs and clears her throat as she stumbles to get a towel to mop up the mess, but all the while Ginny remains in her seat, staring almost catatonically at the table in front of her.

“Merlin!” Hermione exclaims, returning to her chair. She gives Ginny a frustrated sigh. “Please don’t tell me something like that right as I’m drink—”

“With me,” Ginny adds, her voice small.

Oh.

Hermione observes Ginny’s flushed complexion, her wide-eyed disbelief… and that’s when she realizes how much it’s taken for that to have been shared. If Ginny (of all people) has disregarded conversational norms and forgotten to apologize and focused only on herself, she must be going through something significant. Hermione stiffens and suppresses a grimace; she just hopes she isn’t going through it — isn’t going through that — at this very moment…

There’s a pause, and Hermione’s hand cautiously inches towards her mug again. She’s about to raise it to her mouth when Ginny makes eye contact with her from across the table — and then, just as quickly, Hermione scurries to put the mug back down, bracing her palms on the wood.

“He wants me to have his babies,” Ginny whispers, oblivious.

Hermione tamps down the urge to reassure her that yeah, she’d gotten that the first time ‘round — and she’s immediately glad for her newfound sense of impulse control. It’s clear that (apparently) this is something Ginny hasn’t quite come to terms with.

As soon as the words leave Ginny’s mouth, her brown eyes turn skyward as she lets out a slow breath through her parted lips. Hermione recognizes that look better than anyone: She’s trying to keep herself under control.

It’s the look of someone who is really, truly happy…

Hermione gulps and looks away, overcome with the same unrelenting barrage of emotions she’s felt since the second of May. She thinks about the first night she’d spent next to Ron. Or the first time he’d confessed he’d loved her. Or the first time they’d — She clears her throat and blushes, grateful that Ginny’s too consumed right now to put her keen observational skills to use.

When Hermione lifts her head to look across the table several moments later, it’s clear that Ginny’s had some sort of epiphany in the time she’s spent fantasizing about her brother. Hermione only feels marginally guilty about this, though, seeing as how she and Ron are properly together now. She sniffs, sitting up straighter; she has the right to fantasize about her own boyfriend, doesn’t she?

Fortunately, though, Ginny’s still beaming from ear-to-ear, her expression joyous and vacant — and Hermione reckons that she and Ron could have been shagging on the table and Ginny still wouldn’t have noticed. Then Hermione’s face turns even redder, because she and Ron have done, actually, but now all she can see is Harry and Ginny doing it here too, and is it just her or does the table suddenly seem… sticky?

Hermione’s hands fly to her lap. Nope. Not going there. Ignorance is bliss. Time to think about something — anything — else.

“I erm… I didn’t really know you wanted children,” she offers, hoping that’s enough of a distraction.

Ginny sighs, gripping her mug. “In general, I don’t.” She takes a sip. “I haven’t ever, not with anyone else. But when I think about Harry and him being a dad and…” She sets her mug down, that same bashful smile on her lips.

“It’s different,” Ginny finishes after a pause. “It’s… a lot different.”

Hermione smiles back, her cheeks flushing — because that, too, is something she understands. She’d never once thought about having children with Viktor. Or McClaggen. Or any of the boys with whom she might have shared a passing fancy. But she thinks about Ron cooing over a frizzy ginger-haired baby (or perhaps a child with no biological connection to them at all, so long as they raise it together), something shifts in her stomach, too.

Now Hermione’s eyes feel rather misty, so she’s thankful Ginny chooses that precise moment to start speaking again.

“I just… I never thought I’d—”

“—Be this happy?” Hermione supplies — and she finally, finally deems it safe enough to attempt another sip… but avoids touching the table as she does.

Ginny shakes her head and bites her lip. “More like…” She traces her finger along the edge of the table. “More like… I never thought I’d actually be with him. In every way I want to be. Even if I don’t want kids anytime soon — not for years and years, not until I’m done playing quidditch and Harry’s established at the Ministry and…”

Ginny shifts uncomfortably in her seat, but Hermione fills in the blanks; she often feels the same way… like she’s afraid to be hopeful. Like she’s afraid some dark force will rip away everything they’ve worked so hard to achieve.

Hermione’s feels an unexpected sense of regret that she’s not close enough to give her friend a reassuring hug.

But then Hermione remembers that Ginny is the one who provides comfort like that… and she’s not sure what to do with that, either. Rather dwelling on those competing feelings, she instead opts for an abrupt subject change.

“So,” Hermione ventures, clearing her throat; she has to be sure. “You’re definitely not—?”

“NO!” Ginny cuts her off, her eyes wide in terror.

They heave mutual sighs of relief, and Hermione pats herself on the back for the rather extensive (albeit detached and mechanical) discussion she’d forced everyone to sit through earlier this summer.

Then there’s another pause — and Hermione knows she and Ginny are having the same thoughts… because this discussion has broached a new level of familiarity. Sex is something new, something the two of them have talked about little, aside from the mutual-but-awkward understanding that it’s happening. They’d each confessed to as much after she and Ron and returned from Australia, and that conversation with Ginny had been Hermione’s first real foray into dueling feelings of disgust (because bleh) and happiness (because aw).

But there’s one final piece of the puzzle Hermione is dying to know — if for no other reason than to judge the quality of Harry’s people skills. And to assess why Ginny hadn’t turned on the spot and run away.

Hermione clears her throat. “So… how did he tell you?”

Ginny gives a distant smile to the far wall. “Teddy transformed to look like him,” she admits. “And then Harry got all weird and ran to the loo, so I asked him, later… and I think I played it off, but Merlin, give a girl some bloody warning!” She rolls her eyes and sighs again, but if she’s actually trying to look exasperated, she isn’t doing it well.

Hermione snorts. Ginny’s rather thick for someone so perceptive. Any fool could’ve told you how much Harry loves Teddy; it’s only logical to assume he’d want his own, one day.

“So… I reckon you’d already gathered Harry wants kids. With me.” Ginny’s cheeks turn pink as she averts her eyes, clearly embarrassed to be the oblivious one, for once.

Hermione gives her a kind nod. She’d thought that much was obvious, but Ginny’s always had a particular weak spot where Harry’s concerned. Of course, the notion that she, herself, has a similar blind spot for Ron isn’t something she wants to consider much. Not when she feels she’s made such growth in perceptiveness.

So she doesn’t.

“Well,” Hermione sniffs, rising to take her mug to the sink. “I suppose I’ll be very happy for the two of you. One day. And,” she adds, raising a finger in forewarning, “I don’t reckon this celebration will need to occur anytime soon, provided you and Harry continue to make safe choices.”

With that, Hermione turns to leave the kitchen, a smug look on her face — and in retrospect, this, right here is her fatal flaw. On top of everything else, she has the nerve to congratulate herself on how well she’s handled that… on how she’s actually quite astute, after all…

Hermione reckons her condescending smile it really what turns the tide; the second Ginny catches sight of that, it’s all over.

It’s so, so over.

Because as Hermione steps into the living room, she hears something that freezes her in her tracks.

“Yes,” Ginny agrees, her tone dripping with false innocence, “because I reckon no one could make a safer choice than shagging my brother. On the kitchen table.”

There’s a beat… and a split-second later, Ginny erupts into cackles.

Oh for the love of—

Hermione’s back stiffens as she flushes crimson from the roots of her hair down to her toes, more mortified than she’s been in her entire life. And all the while, Ginny howls and howls from behind her, making absolutely no attempt to disguise her delight.

Hermione summons the remaining shards of her dignity and takes a tentative step towards the stairs, but Ginny has nonetheless made her point.

Safety, it seems, is a very subjective word.