#its also just heavy breathing no intro

[wil-fae]

I had more ideas, so today is more streamer tim and jason (help me with what their twitch users would be, begging)

[scorpiosbite]

the first time drew saw actress!reader.

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 ────୨ৎ──── when drew was forced by madelyn to come watch this new show with her and the rest of the cast he didn’t expect to have his heart captured by the mesmerising woman on the screen.

𝜗𝜚 pairing: actress!reader x drew starkey

author’s note: this takes place in 2023 during the filming of obx 4 which is when game of thrones started airing in my timeline also actress!reader is anywhere between 19-22 years old.

drew was sprawled across the couch in his hotel room, aimlessly scrolling. after a long day of filming under the hot and heavy sun of morocco, he had no intention of doing anything that required effort. his plan was to simply scroll until his eyes got heavy and he knocked out, but knowing his insomnia that wouldn’t be until the early hours of the morning.

glancing at the time displayed on his phone ten pm it read, he let out a heavy sigh, though his body ached with exhaustion, his mind would not shut off. but before he could put down his phone and try to force himself to sleep, a knock sounded on the door “yeah?”

“drew! its maddie.”

“maddie?” he spoke softly, what’s she doing up at this time. usually she was asleep the moment she got back to the hotel. “come in, its open.”

she came tumbling through the door, coming to a stop in front of the couch where he laid. drew couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched her. “what’s up?”

“drew! you gotta come watch this new show with us!” her hands were placed on her hips as she looked down at him.

drew sighed, a noise of exhaustion. “i can’t be fucked getting up, cline.” her face scrunched up, ready to dispute him.

“drew you have to! the last episode of season one just came out and i watched the first episode when it aired and it was so good that i stopped watching so that we could binge it all when the season finished!”

recognition sparked on his face. “wait is this game of thrones? i remember you saying how good the first episode was, like two months ago.”

madelyn’s face grew excited at the fact that he remembered. “yeah! please please, you have to come watch it, jd, bailey, chase, laci, rudy and austin are already in my room waiting.”

drew mulled over the idea for a moment. either he could rot in his room until his call time tomorrow or hang out with his friends and possibly watch a good show, if maddie’s high praise was anything to go by.

“yeah, alright let’s go.” he stood up from the couch, stretching his arms and grabbing his phone to follow maddie, who was already halfway out the door, unable to wait any longer.

when they arrived at her room, the first episode was already lined up on the screen, the hbo logo blaring in the dark room. drew greeted everyone and then took a seat on the spare love seat by the window. “you guys get forced too?” he questioned.

“yup.” jd breathed out. “nah i’ve been wanting to watch this, i remember hearing about it when they started filming, it’s supposed to be like super graphic and vulgar.” madison commented. “shit, really? i know nothing about this show, other than the fact that cline can’t shut up about it.” austin added. chuckles sounded across the room, and madelyn yelled from the kitchen where the popcorn she was making turned in the microwave. “y’all are about to thank me!”

drew simply sat in silence, with the amount maddie was praising this show, his skepticism grew, no way this show was that good. someone pressed play as soon as madelyn was seated, he didn’t see who. the intro song of the show blasted through the room and drew settled back into his seat.

“yo, pass me the popcorn?” chase rolled up the bag and chucked it across the room from where he was sat, drew caught it with ease.

he couldn’t lie, the show was good, fifteen minutes in and he was hooked. and just when he thought that it couldn’t get better, you came on the screen.

“holy fuck who is that?” jd’s voice rang out, but drew felt as though his voice came from somewhere far away. he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. “she’s beautiful right?” madelyn sighed out. mummers of agreement sounded from the people sitting in the room. “her name’s y/n y/l/n.”

“y/n” drew repeated to himself softly, almost as he was testing the feel of your name in his mouth. rolling the syllables on his tongue, in that moment he decided that no other word would ever compare to the way your name felt on his lips.

dressed in a flowing dress with daring cuts exposing your seemingly soft skin, he wondered what would it feel like if he ran his palms along the smooth expansion. your hair sliver, long and loose to play visenya targaryen, the last targaryen, the daughter of rhaegar targaryen and elia martell. drew felt as though no one had ever looked more stunning in the history of the world.

“drew? you all good man?” someone asked, he didn’t know who, he couldn’t hear or think of anything beyond you and the performance you were giving. “i think starkey’s got a crush.” rudy sang out, and the rest laughed. but drew couldn’t care less, too busy watching you.

they watched two more episodes and as the third episode came to an end drew finally broke out of his trance. while the rest occasionally made comments during the show drew could not tear himself away from the screen, afraid that if he looked away he would miss you.

“i gotta hand it to you, cline, i’m hooked. that shit was amazing!” carlacia grinned. “i fucking told you guys!” she retorted back. “but aside from that, starkey? what did you think?” she smirked at him.

“yeah, that was good.” drew’s body tingling “that’s it? just good? you don’t wanna talk about the moon eyes you were making every time visenya came on screen?” drew cheeks tinged pink. “yeah, she’s pretty.” “aye, shot your shot man, she’s so fine.” madison teased.

as drew made his way back to his room he looked at the time, two am, damn he didn’t even realise time had passed that quick. sliding into his bed after taking a quick shower, he couldn’t help himself but run a quick search of you on google. “fuck.” the soft curse slipping from his lips, just when he thought you couldn’t get hotter, he saw pictures of you, not in costume, naturally a brunette, he was so fucked. fuck it, he quickly searched up your name on instagram.

you were laying in bed scrolling through instagram when a notification popped up.

drewstarkey started following you. follow back?

first one, do you like it? if you do i’ll keep writing. reblogs and comments are welcome and appreciated.

[veltana]

Stranded - Intro

✦ Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader ✦ Word count: ~400 ✦ Rating: Mature ✦ Warnings/tags: Grumpy mountain man!Bucky, don't ask me about US geography just go with it, eventual relationship/romance/smut. ✦ Summary: Your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere. ✦ Note: You voted for it, so here he is! I'm trying something new with this and making this an interactive story! I'm gonna post a poll tomorrow and you get to vote for what happens in the next part. You're also invited to send suggestions for what you want to happen in upcoming parts! I'm gonna be tagging everything with #stranded series.

Masterlist | AO3

It wasn’t your plan to be stranded in the middle of nowhere, but you are nonetheless.

A slew of curses fall out of your mouth as you stand in the freezing cold, trying to get a signal on your phone. It is still light out, but the sun is starting to set and the road you’re on has been deserted since you stopped.

Accepting defeat, you tuck your phone back into your pocket and try to devise another plan.

You can wait by the car, hoping someone will come by and be willing to help you. But you also remember seeing a small sign up a gravel road some way back.

Either stay out in the cold and die of hypothermia. Get murdered by someone stopping under the guise of helping you. Or get murdered by a loner in the mountains. None of the options seems very appealing to you. Walking back to town is not an option, either way, it’s too far.

After some thinking, you decide you can't stay and put a note in the window of your car that you’ve gone for help, and please don’t break into your car.

Fortunately for you, you’re actually kind of prepared for this. You have reasonable boots, a thick coat, beanie, and gloves. Rummaging through your suitcase, you stuff some other useful things into your backpack, before locking the car and starting to walk.

The gravel road is steep, but at least you’re warm, and not thinking about the chill that will come when your sweat cools. You catch a glimpse of a chimney and a thin trail of smoke rising between the hills and that keeps you going. Dusk is closing in, and you hope to reach the place before the road fades into darkness.

As the hill crests, you take a few seconds to catch your breath and get a better look at the house for the first time. Or, it’s more of a cabin, low and simple, but its windows glow warmly in the fading light, and a truck sits outside.

At least you’ll be warm when you get murdered!

You knock firmly on the door and wait. For a few seconds, there is nothing but stillness from inside, before you hear heavy footfalls on the other side of the door.

As the door opens you put on your best smile.

“Hi!” you introduce yourself. “My car broke down on the main road and I couldn’t get a signal, but I saw the sign and walked here. Do you have a working phone or wifi that I could use to get in contact with a towing company?”

The man eyes you up and down. He’s so much bigger than you, with blue piercing eyes, long hair held back by a black cap, and a scruffy beard. The silence stretches and you’re starting to think that maybe he didn’t understand you.

Then he grunts and says, “Come in, I’m Bucky.”

[dreamings-free]

Weird how y’all don’t want Louis to come out from under the shadow of the band and to be known as a solo artist. He’s still referred to almost exclusively as Louis from 1D… and playing a setlist that is 1/3 covers is not helping him overcome that. He will always play 1D songs, we all know that, but 3 out of 13 songs is excessive and you know it. And before you say some bs like “there’s nothing wrong with being known as Louis from 1D”…. There is when he’s so much more than just the band and the songs he wrote when he was 22. It’s possible to honor the band and be proud of his past while also wanting him to move on from it.

There’s also the added annoyance that everyone always just assumes that all his fans only like him because of the band and that he hasn’t been able to gain any fans through his own music. It doesn’t piss you off when his crowds are described as directioners? Playing festival sets using that many 1D songs as a safety blanket is just playing into that stereotype and it does him a massive disservice.

the issue here, anon is that unlike you louis isn’t embarrassed about being 'louis from one direction'

it’s funny how you guys keep accusing me and other (sane) people of not liking louis for who he is and yet here you are belittling him for his past and for being proud of his past achievements?!

and no I "don’t know it".. that is not the hottake you think it is. the thing is you are way way too hung up on some of the songs in his setlists being 1D songs. who cares? fans who know (and love) those songs are happy to see them reimagined to fit with louis’ current style. people at a festival who might recognise some of his songs as being 1D will probably just think 'hey I know that one but this guitar heavy version is cool!' people who aren’t familiar with 1D won’t even know they’re 1D songs and will like or dislike them regardless..?!

also louis clearly chose that setlist because every single song is A BANGER in a live set. people at festivals are often drunk and exhausted and if they happen to stumble into louis tomlinson’s late afternoon set they’re gonna fall asleep if he pulls out songs like chicago or saturdays. thinking the megamix with its slow intro is gonna work in the bright afternoon sunlight.. have you even been to a festival? louis and steve crafted this setlist because they know through years of experience (and a heavy dose of good taste and simple common sense) that this setlist is gonna keep a mixed festival crowd engaged. I've seen people complain about WDBHG and honestly if you can’t understand the sheer genius of giving that perfect pop song a rock makeover AND adding in that little baba o’riley bit.. which soo many people in a festival crowd will recognise - I’m sorry but you don’t deserve the magic that is the combined tomlinson-durham mastermind!

and finally because that comment really piss me off; how tf are 1D songs "a safety blanket" while in the same breath you're saying new listeners won't like him.. because he's associated with 1D. again, it's not me who doesn't like louis for who he is, is it?

[maya-caffrey]

Hold the line

love isn't always on time

pairing: neal caffrey x reader words: 1.6k summary: neal has to teach you pottery for your next case, and well let's just say pottery is not all that gets done (inspired by that one scene from ghost you know the one) warning: its mostly fluff and them getting carried away. ig there's implied smut but only if you read into it; be warned tho there is heavy making out a/n: now, you can treat this as a sequel to This ain't the Chelsea hotel which i posted recently or not, doesn't make a difference. Just know that they ended up making out in their last case and things got awkward after that. I loved writing this adkjnfjg and i hope you like it. also we'll pretend hold the line by toto is playing in the background i just really like that song.

(Y/n) knocked on Neal’s apartment door, her pulse quickening the moment she heard him moving on the other side. She’d spent all day trying to convince herself this was just about the case, nothing more. But it had been two weeks since the kiss on the terrace, and things between them had shifted—unspoken words hanging heavy in the air every time they talked, every time they accidentally brushed against one another.

Neal opened the door, a faint smile curving his lips, though his eyes were cautious, guarded. “Right on time,” he said, stepping aside to let her in. She noticed how his shirt sleeves were rolled up until his elbows and how a single strand of hair escaped his head and rested on his forehead.

The space was as effortlessly elegant as he was, filled with soft light and the faintest scent of coffee and paint. A potter’s wheel sat in the middle of the room, already set up with a lump of clay waiting in its center.

The soft, unmistakable piano intro of Hold the Line by Toto played through Neal’s speakers, the song filling the quiet corners of his apartment.

“Alright,” he began, with that insufferably charming smirk of his. “Pottery 101. Watch and learn.”

(Y/n) leaned back, trying not to look as intrigued as she felt. Neal sat before the wheel, his hands steady as he pressed into the clay, the spinning motion smoothing it into something almost hypnotic. He made it look effortless, his movements calm and intentional, the muscles in his forearms flexing ever so slightly.

“You’re sweating already?” she teased, crossing her arms. “Am I supposed to be impressed?”

Neal glanced up, grinning. “Only if you’re planning on doing better than this on your first try.” He leaned back, gesturing for her to take the seat. “Come on, let’s see what you’ve got.”

(Y/n) hesitated, then stepped forward, sitting awkwardly at the wheel. She mimicked his earlier motions, placing her hands against the clay, but it squished unevenly beneath her palms, wobbling dangerously.

“Careful,” Neal said, a laugh already in his voice. She glared at him, determined to get it right, but the more she tried to control the spinning clay, the worse it became. Finally, the lump collapsed entirely, splattering slightly. Neal burst out laughing, stepping closer to her.

“Okay, okay—what was that?” he teased, shaking his head. “Are you trying to make pottery, or does the clay owe you money?”

She shot him a mock glare, brushing clay from her hands. “Maybe you’re just a terrible teacher.”

He leaned in slightly, smirking. “Maybe you’re just a terrible student.”

“Oh wow, okay, I see how it is,” she shot back, feigning offense. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Oh, absolutely.” Neal chuckled, moving behind her. “Alright, let me help before you ruin my wheel entirely.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t protest as he slid his hands over hers, guiding them gently back to the clay. “Relax,” he murmured, his voice low and calm. “Don’t grip it like you’re trying to choke it. Just—let it move. Like this.”

(Y/n) tried to focus, but every nerve in her body was on high alert. Neal was close, closer than he’d been in weeks, his chest brushing lightly against her back. She felt his breath against her neck as he spoke, warm and steady, and goosebumps rose along her arms.

“That’s it,” Neal said, his tone softer now, almost a whisper. “See? You’re getting it.”

(Y/n) could barely concentrate on the clay as it began to take shape under their joined hands. Neal’s steady guidance made it almost manageable, but the way his voice curled around her senses made it almost impossible to think.

She risked a glance down at their hands, his larger ones covering hers, their movements perfectly synchronized. The faint pressure of his fingers on hers sent a warmth rushing through her, making her heart stutter.

“See? Not so bad,” Neal said, his tone carrying just the faintest hint of teasing. “I told you you could do it.”

(Y/n) huffed a quiet laugh, though her voice wavered slightly. “I know you're trying to make me feel better, and it's working a little bit, but we both know I suck at this.”

“You’re selling yourself short.” His breath brushed against her ear, and she felt the softest brush of his chest against her back as he leaned in just a little closer to adjust their hands. The heat radiating from him was overwhelming, his presence almost intoxicating in its proximity.

The clay spun under their touch, but it might as well have been forgotten. Neal’s hands stilled over hers for a moment, and she realized she’d stopped breathing when she felt him hesitate.

She turned her head slightly, intending to make a quick, lighthearted remark to ease the tension, but her words dissolved the second her gaze met his. Neal was already watching her, his eyes searching hers with an intensity that made her heart trip over itself.

For a moment, they were suspended in that perfect, fragile silence, the soft chords of Hold the Line swelling in the background like a soundtrack to a moment they hadn’t planned. His eyes flicked to her lips, then back to her eyes, and her breath caught.

The distance between them closed slowly, almost imperceptibly, until their lips brushed in the lightest, most hesitant of kisses. Neal paused there for a fraction of a second, giving her every opportunity to pull away, but she didn’t. Instead, she leaned in, her hands slipping from the clay to rest against his.

The kiss deepened, growing warmer and more sure, and (Y/n) felt herself melt into him. Neal’s arms slipped around her waist, pulling her closer, and the spinning clay beneath their hands was utterly forgotten. The wheel slowed to a halt, the song playing on, but neither of them cared.

Neal tilted his head slightly, the angle of the kiss shifting to something even more tender. His lips moved against hers with a quiet reverence, as though this was something he’d been waiting for far longer than he’d let on. She felt his thumb brush lightly against her side, his touch featherlight yet electrifying.

Abandoning the wheel completely, they turned toward each other, their movements instinctive, magnetic. Neal’s hands found her waist again, pulling her closer as their kiss grew more fervent, more insistent. Her fingers trailed up his chest, clutching at the fabric of his shirt as if anchoring herself to him.

In one fluid motion, Neal rose to his feet, pulling her up with him. The sudden movement made her gasp softly against his lips, but he didn’t let go. His hands steadied her as he walked them backward, the kiss never breaking, never losing its intensity.

Her back met the wall with a soft thud, and she barely had time to register the coolness of the surface before Neal’s hands slid from her waist to frame her face, his thumbs brushing her cheeks as though she were something fragile yet impossible to resist.

Their breaths mingled, ragged and unsteady, as his lips moved against hers with a hunger she hadn’t seen in him before, a quiet desperation like he’d been holding himself back for far too long. She arched slightly into him, her hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer still.

“(Y/n),” Neal murmured against her lips, her name a reverent whisper that sent shivers down her spine. He paused for the briefest of moments, his forehead pressed against hers as they caught their breath. His eyes searched hers, dark with a mixture of longing and something deeper, something unspoken but undeniable.

“Tell me to stop,” he said softly, his voice low, almost pleading, though the way his fingers trailed down her arm betrayed his resolve.

She shook her head, a small, breathless smile tugging at her lips as she leaned in again, brushing her lips against his in answer. “Don’t,” she whispered, her voice trembling but sure.

That was all the permission he needed. Neal closed the distance again, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was deeper, more deliberate, his hands slipping to her hips to pull her flush against him. The wall at her back grounded her, but Neal’s warmth, his touch, made her feel weightless, as if the world outside this moment didn’t exist.

His kisses slowly made their way towards her neck, and she threw her head back and let them, savoring every moment. One of his hands left her waist and found the back of her thigh that she had instinctively wrapped around him sometime earlier.

Clothes were shed as the forgotten clay dried in the wheel. The music played on in the background, unnoticed, as they lost themselves in each other, the tension of the last two weeks unraveling with every touch, every kiss, every whispered breath.

When they finally pulled back, just enough to breathe, their foreheads rested against each other’s. Neal’s lips curved into the faintest smile, his breath mingling with hers.

“That didn’t feel like part of the job,” he said softly, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“No,” (Y/n) whispered, her voice trembling but certain. “It didn’t.”

“Well,” he murmured, voice low and teasing, “if this is what happens every time you mess up, I might have to keep you bad at pottery.”

(Y/n) let out a soft, breathless laugh, her cheeks flushed. “Won't be a problem, I'm sure. You're a terrible teacher.”

He chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from her face with clay-covered fingers, smudging her cheek in the process. “You’re impossible.”

“You're one to talk,” she replied softly, her smile matching his as they stayed there, wrapped in the warmth of something new and undeniable.

[komohine]

How are sheith shippers fetishizing gay men. Are you delusional? Misinformed? Lacking IQ?

Keith is not Asian btw, While we're at it, please prove to me all the damage sheith has done to the gay Asian male community.

Ok considering i have sheith shippers/defenders dni in my intro post and I really dont feel like wasting my time today ill try to keep it short and wont be responding to shit like this down the line. Next time save your breath though. Because idk if you knew this but dni stands for Do Not Interact. You are interacting. Stop that.

1) they’re brothers. Sure it’s revealed much later in the seasons, but the point is they have an incredibly strong familial relationship. If you started off shipping sheith when they weren’t explicitly defined as brothers, fine. But after their familial relationship is revealed the choice to continue shipping those two specifically comes off as strange as hell. Even stranger when you consider the multiple other available male characters that are not only more age appropriate but also dont have a familial relationship with them lmao. Also Shiro canonically gets married to a man. So the choice to continue shipping sheith has to go beyond just wanting to guys to kiss. The next common denominator? They’re both asian, so I must conclude that the need to ship them comes from that. The next next common denominator is that they’re related and some of you just have a thing for incest. But i still have faith in humanity so i wont accuse you of that even though i occasionally feel the urge to. I refuse to take “but but they have the most in show relationship development” as a reason because that just means you’re too fucking lazy to think of your own scenarios. Which is not true, because the amount of devious ass sheith shit I unfortunately stumble across means your collective neurons are actively firing away. Just for the wrong thing. You guys really saw the only real developed relationship (i use this word generally and not strictly romantically) between two guys in the show and decided that it must have romantic undertones. Beyond how its harmful to irl men and deters them from emotional maturity out of fear that any non toxic relationship between two men is automatically seen as romantic by some people, it’s just fundamentally mid yaoi because you guys cant fathom that 1) romance isn’t a core part of the show beyond allurance 2) that two guys can talk to eachother while smiling without wanting to fuck. Yall are in the same league as those guys who are addicted to step sister p0rn.

1.5) bcs i know someones gonna ask “why do you think sheith is incest”, its because shiro fulfills the kinship role of “sibling” for keith, or even “parent”. From here-on out simplified as “guardian”. Within anthropology there are numerous kinship systems which determine which family member is called what. Ex. In the hawaiian system, every male family member is called “father” and every female “mother”. No matter if they birthed you or not. In the linear (also known as esk/mo but that’s a word with heavy history) system, your parents are “mom/dad”, siblings are defined as “brother/sister”, and everyone else is “aunt/uncle” or “cousin”. This is the system commonly used in the west. Kinship systems define a lot of things, from inheritance to respect hierarchies. Another key thing they determine is incest taboo. The range of which this taboo applies differs depending on culture, which is why you’ll hear of two people, for example, cousins getting married. In the west that’s considered taboo, but it may not be in another culture. Kinship and its taboos also apply to non blood related relationships. Hence adoptive siblings, etc. And keith quite explicitly refers to shiro as his brother. Given the context of those scenes, it can be deduced that it’s not said in a way that is 1) casual, as the lingo would more likely be “sup bro” or the tone of voice would be significantly more casual, 2) indicative of anything other than a familial relationship, for if keith considered him a brother in arms he would’ve said something more along the lines up “on your feet, brother”. Keith saying “you’re like my brother” AND THEN DOUBLING DOWN TO “You’re my brother,” said in such a sincere tone of voice leaves little to be debated.

Tldr: Shiro fulfills a guardian kinship role for Keith and thus the incest taboo applies to him.

1.6) also like? It’d be weird either way. Going by their canon age diff (season 1, 25-18 = SEVEN YEARS), and considering shiro met keith in middle school, and going by the oldest middle school age (15) bcs im feeling generous, shiro wouldve still been 22. If they just met once and never again till seasom 1, fine. Ship sheith however you want. But the fact is they met and then they formed a bond when shiro was significantly older and in a position of power over keith. Shiro was a mentor and guardian to keith whether you like it or not, and he stayed that way from when keith was young and impressionable until he was an adult. Yk what thats called? Raising a child. Imagine shipping that. Crazy. Imagine a 9 year old being raised by a 17 year old babysitter bcs of his absent parents. Suddenly when the 9 year old turns 18 he starts dating his babysitter. Thats freaky as hell, and i only increased the age gap by 2 years. Literally nothing else changed.

2) now why would they include a non aapi character in the mash up? Also, his source character from the og voltron is named “Keith Akira Kogane”. What non asian person is named that?

3) also the fact you need me to show you damage.. same vibe as “wdym he’s stalking you he’s just being friendly!! Show me how his so called stalking has put your life in danger”. Like imagine needing actual damage before even considering something bad.

[pearlycorpse]

(𓇼) ⸺ ⠀𝐓𝗁𝖾 𝐂𝗁𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗇 𝐒𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾

pairing : sukuna x gn!reader

summary : to save thousands they must marry the king of curses

tw : slight gore mentions, implied con/dub-con, kuna is rough

notes ; this is an intro from a bot im working on lol

the entire arrangement was meant to bring peace to the chiefs and elders terrified of what war would look like if the king of curses did not get what he wanted. tyrannical, cruel, barbaric, those names and more always followed after he was mentioned in any conversation among the peasants or the highest of nobles.

no one was safe from him. no one could hide when time came for punishment. no one dared question his rule, not if they wished to eat their tongue after it had been severed.

he was the ruler of all the lands, an emperor, a king, maybe even a god who came down from the heavens to torment and aid humanity. his power knew no bounds, it never failed him nor would it ever do so.

as rare as a drop of rain during a drought was his kindness during meetings with his advisors (they were just there as decoration because he never listened to them), during consultations with his people, during interactions with his servants.

the word scary didn't do him justice, no, it was too soft, too *weak* for someone like the king of curses. he could end someone's life with a mere glance, the servants would whisper in the corners of the palace. not before the air was pulled from their longs and their corpses dropped to the ground though.

a man like that, suddenly relaying to every noble house in his empire that he wished for a spouse to marry, it was the thing they least expected. many thought the king would take their wealth for himself, leave them to frolic with peasants and eat dirt. that would have been their fate if they hadn't decided on a spouse for the king.

many months had passed since the announcement, and many had lost their lives just from being prospective spouses. if tensions were high then, they could reach the moon now.

familes were terrified to send their eligible children to have a chance at being the spouse of the king, and yet, if a child hadn't been sent, all of them would be slaughtered within a fortnight.

none were safe from his wrath, it was hopeless. there seemed to be no one that lord sukuna wished to marry, all would have been lost.

although, having just stepped out of their carriage in front of the palace gates, the king could already sense them. their scent was mind boggling, a beauty unlike any he had ever seen. but it wasn't their face that had him sold, it was their heart.

and he didn't mean in the romantic way, he meant it as in he wanted to rip their heart out of their chest and taste their flesh and blood. he wanted to watch them bleed, turn pale and die. that's what had happened to all his concubines, why shouldn't it happen to his spouse as well?

not even a week had passed before they were married. the ceremony was grand and lavish, but the air was misted with heavy emotions, from both his spouse and the people of his empire. as promised however, sukuna had given them a bit of leeway, letting them breathe for a bit before he would grow bored.

now living in the palace, it was a dreary and absolutely depressing place to live. the gardens never bloomed, the hallways never cleaned, the planets never seen to. though the palace was old and had its charms, it was also falling apart.

they were treated very well, however. given the finest clothes, meals, gifts and anything else they wished for. the tales they were told of how evil sukuna was seemed more far fetched then anything else; they hadn't even seen him since the wedding.

what sort of man didn't even wish to consummate his own marriage?

they shouldn't have bothered with trying to be a good spouse, the servants warned them not to make the king of curses mad, for the consequences could very well cost them their life. they were told that sukuna hadn't seen them was because he was being considerate, something that wouldn't last.

despite being warned, they would wait for sukuna at dinner, try to spot him in the throne room, find him in the courtyard, or even in the bathing chambers. but no dice. it was only when they were walking through the palace at night with nothing but a lantern guiding their steps did they see why the servants, why the people, feared the man known as ryomen sukuna.

he was a monster...

sukuna's eyes snapped down to the one who was meant to be his spouse, seeing the fear on their features because of his form. he had tattoos on his skin, four arms, four eyes, razor sharp teeth peaking out from his lips as he smirked.

a deep chuckle rumbled within his chest. "you aren't meant to be here." he told them, a hand reaching out to grab their arm, grip almost bone breaking. "didn't the servants ever warn you not to roam the palace at night? a monster might eat you..."

he leaned down, hot breath ghosting over the skin of their cheek before he ran his tongue along the side of their face. without much effort, he threw them over his shoulder and walked back to his bedchambers. his hand smacked their rear end, a little harder than necessary, sure to leave a red mark.

"come now, stop squirming." he warned when he hovered over them on his bed, top set of arms holding their wrists while his bottom set split their legs open. "i suggest you listen to my words very carefully. you wouldn't want to... disappoint me, would you, my dear?"

running his tongue along his sharp teeth, a hand from his bottom set held their chin, sharp claw like nails dragging down their throat. "shh, shh, don't cry." he mocked them. "i won't make it painful, not now at least. be good for me and shut up. or i'll have to throw you out my window and you'll decorate the roses with your blood."

"understand?"

[unrealistic-ideas-for-writers]

Caladin: Draft of his Kit

As promised^^

No promise the numbers are scaled in anyway balanced- I don’t have a good grasp of buffing and scaling on the numbers side, so feel free to make suggestions.

Wrath (normal attack):

Caladin makes 6 consecutive melee attacks dealing Spectro damage equivalent to 90% of his ATK. Basic attacks accumulate stacks of “Vengeance.”

Heavy Attacks: consume a certain amount of stamina to deal single target Spectro damage equal to 115% of Caladin’s ATK and minor aoe Spectro damage.

Animation idea: A parting the seas kind of motion in which Cal brings his hands together and up before pulling them down off to his sides, creating a cone of Spectro energy around him.

Mid-air Attack: consumes a certain amount of stamina to perform a mid-air attack that deals aoe Spectro damage equal to 75% of Caladin’s ATK

Animation idea: Dropkick :3

Solar Flare (Resonance Skill)

Produces a field of swirling Spectro orbs that orbit the onfield Resonator, pulling enemies in and dealing consistent Spectro damage for 15 seconds that is equal to 75% of Caladin’s ATK.

Golden Hour (Forte)

Stacks a condition called “Vengeance” upon usage of Wrath and its variants, including basic attacks, heavy attacks, and mid-air attacks.

Upon collecting the first stack of “Vengeance”, Caladin regenerates (x) amount of energy.

A max of 12 stacks can be accumulated at once and can be done every 2 seconds. (?)

Stacks of “Vengeance” clear upon triggering Daylight’s Glory.

Clearing stacks of “Vengeance” applies party wide ATK and Crit Rate buffs per stack cleared.

A maximum of a 40% ATK buff and 12% Crit Rate buff can be acquired

Daylight’s Glory (Resonance Liberation)

Attacks a main target dealing massive Spectro damage equivalent to 270% of Caladin’s ATK and minor aoe Spectro damage.

Clears all stacks of “Vengeance” and applies a party wide buff that last 30 seconds with Caladin off field, and 40 seconds of Caladin spends at least 10 seconds on field after triggering Daylight’s Glory.

Caladin’s basic attack, Wrath, is greatly enhanced and becomes “Rage.”

Animation idea: we see a close up of Caladin’s face, his eyes are glowing and we see a foreshortened version of his hand come into scene. It flashes to a view of light bursting through seams of his fingers as though he grabs the enemy by the face and incinerates them :3

Rage (Enhanced Basic Attack)

Performs 6 consecutive melee attacks dealing Spectro damage equal to 200% of Caladin’s ATK. All Heavy Attacks and Mid-Air attacks are treated as basic attack damage and receive designated buffs as though they were basic attacks.

Rage lasts 30 seconds. (??)

Dawn’s Breath (Intro Skill)

Deals aoe Spectro damage equivalent to 150% of Caladin’s ATK and regenerates (x) amount of Energy for himself

Animation idea: Full blown flying out of the sky to punch the ground Haymaker vibes-

Justice at Dusk (Outro Skill)

Creates a single, stationary orb of Spectro energy that pulses and deals aoe damage equivalent to 30% of Caladin’s ATK and taunts the enemy. After 3 hits, it disperses.

Regenerates a third of the incoming Resonator’s energy. (????)

If the incoming Resonator has a fully charged Liberation, this is exchanged for a Crit Damage buff of 12%.

Inherent Skill 1

Increases Caladin’s attack by 12%

Inherent Skill 2

Increases Caladin’s energy regeneration rate by 15%

—

Wow. Alright. I think this is done enough for a draft.

If some parts seem really random and disconnected, it’s because I am ill and also just throwing thoughts at paper.

Please do add critiques of stats and percentages because I cross referenced with Xiangli Yao, Acheron from Honkai Star Rail, and Dr. Ratio from Honkai Star Rail.

So I’m sure this is a mess^^

Caladin is built to be a dual DPS/Quickswap unit.

A rotation for him might be building stacks of Vengeance, Resonance Liberation, Resonance Skill, a few extra hits in with his basic, and then swap for the other DPS to benefit from his party wide buffing.

He could also work in hyper carry, but honesty I don’t know :’)

Quick fun fact: Caladin’s Forte is named Golden Hour in reminiscence of who he once was and what his Forte once felt like to him. His other skill names feel very violent in comparison.

@uncreative-cryptid and @hobbysognodilibri (feel free to ignore, but I thought you’d like a look)

[mxtantrights]

famous dc!au (dick's version)

TRACK ELEVEN: UNDERSTAND

It's grueling work. The first video was easy but this director has an extravagant and almost larger than life. It's not common for you to star opposite a famous guy who now, on top of that, will play a greek god.

Dick makes it easy. He shows up on set and jokes around with you. And he always eats with you on lunch break, he tries to pay each time but you try to make it even.

Still you can't help but to feel saddened that your friendship is basically over. Along with end of your friendship and the possibility of it being more than that is less than zero. There was no way Dick would have time for you after this video is done. He's too important and busy. And too not over his ex, possibly.

You try your best to smile while on set today.

-

Dick is freaking out. Like actually nervous and almost throwing up, that type of freaking out. The song he wrote-the one about you but doesn't actually call you out by name, but are about the moments he shared with you-it comes out tonight.

He can't pull the plug on it, he hasn't tried but he knows it won't go over well. His manager talked this single up so well to the studio heads that they wanna renegotiate his contract for one more year.

He doesn't wanna creep you out. But he also can't keep going on like this. It feels like a viscous circle of torture. He's close to telling you and relieving himself of this heavy secret. But then he thinks about how you might not feel the same, and how his confession might chase you out of his life completely. He doesn't want that.

He tries his best to not fall in love with you today.

-

"Okay and that looks great guys I think we've got it for today. We'll send word if we need to do reshoots." the director says.

Someone is pulling a robe over your body. You're not really paying attention because you're watching Dick walk away from set. You had just finished the dance sequence and you were out of breath and sweating.

But all that was on your mind was Dick. It was crazy.

You can't let this go on for forever. You know that. But you honestly don't know what to do that won't hurt your feelings in the process.

With a sigh you head back to your trailer. When you get in you see a fruit basket on top of the couch. You walk over to it, there's a bright blue note sticking out the top. You take the note out.

Your fingers rip the envelope open.

'Thanks for everything. I wanted to get your opinion on this.-Dick" the note reads.

You look at the bottom of the note to see a QR code. You take your phone out from the safe in your trailer and scan it. The link takes you to a blank site with only a media player on it. The time stamp is two minutes fifty seconds.

You hit play, intrigued. When you put your volume up you can barely hear what is playing but it sounds like a song, it sounds like Dick's voice. You hit pause and look around your trailer for your headphones. You find them in your back.

Quickly you connect them to the bluetooth on your phone and hit play again. The intro plays and your brain gets this fuzzy feeling, like you've heard these sounds before. You rewind once, twice trying to understand why its so familiar.

But you decide to leave it alone as you want to hear the rest of the song. The melody plays out and honestly Dick's voice puts you in a bit of a trance. You don't really notice the words he's saying at first but when he gets to the chorus your focus is brought in.

Maybe we could try if you let me

Take you by the hand

You're the only one who understands

It hits you then. Where you heard the beginning from. It's from the first music video shoot. When you and Dick were throwing jokes at each other. It was your laugh. Dick put your laugh in a song?

You can't believe it. Well, you-not you really cannot. But why did he leave this for you to listen to if...

Was this a confession? You hit pause on the song. Then your feet are moving before you can even fully think out the repercussions of your actions. You walk right out of your trailer and onto the lot, all the way over to Dick's trailer which is on the other side.

When you get to the door that's when you feel how hard your heart is pumping. Maybe this wasn't the best idea. Maybe you had gotten ahead of yourself. Maybe it wasn't a confession but just him letting you know he's using a personal moment between the two of you in his new music.

Just as you're about to walk up the steps to knock on his door, the door opens. Out comes the stunning and beautiful Zantana. You can feel it in real time how your confidence deflates like a balloon. You try to keep your smile on though.

Her lips start moving but you can't hear her, that's when you realize you still have your headphone on. You pull them off your ears.

"Sorry. What did you just say?" you ask.

She smiles, "Oh, I just said that he's not in here. He might've slipped out a while ago."

"Oh." you say.

"I'm Zantana by the way." she says, holding out her hand.

You take it into your own and shake hands, introducing yourself to her as politely as you can. Your brain is working on overdrive. He's not here? How would she know that if she wasn't here with him?

"I can let him know that you were looking for him." she says.

You shake your head wildly, "No it was nothing. I can just text him."

"Okay. See you around maybe? Are you coming to the party?" she asks.

You feel horrible. You feel like absolute shit. Like here she is being so sweet yo you meanwhile you don't know if these two are a thing or not and you've maybe been harboring feeling for her significant other.

"Party?" you ask now.

Zantana nods, "Yeah the release party for his new single."

Your eyes widen. The song you were listening to a few seconds ago? That song? He was planning on releasing it into the world? What? Your mind is jumping through multiple hoops at the same time.

"I didn't know anything about that." you say, lying.

"Hey, I can put you down as my plus one and get you in. Don't worry about it." she offers.

"I'm just not sure if I can make it." you try to wiggle your way out of going.

"It's a really good song! I know your support would mean a lot to him." she explains.

You think to yourself, maybe she thinks the song is about her. or maybe it is about her and you've gone delusional and the laugh at the beginning isn't yours, because maybe some laughs sound the same. Maybe.

You can't decline an invitation like this. If you want to end this on a good note, if you want to end this at all you have to go.

"Okay, I'll be there." you say.

[thequeenrains]

“And then I see you... And I love you all over again.”

Tags: midnight talks; closure; kinda painful ig; unrequited love (or is it)

Summary: Sometimes, we all try to find peace in the midst of the chaos that is happening within our lives. But how can you find chaos if the same person that brings you that same problem is also someone that you find hard to let go?

Word Count: 2697 words

The moon shined brightly above the horizon, in its full glory, putting those who are a witness to her beauty in a tranquil daze at such a magical encounter. The dark surroundings were slightly luminated by her gentle light, bringing forth to the vision little details of the path to the city and silhouette of the trees that, at that hour, seemed like they hold such mysterious secrets kept for decades. The stars twinkled and danced along side the bright luminous moon, shining on their own rhythm, singing to the light of their almighty companion.

You felt the kiss of the evening breeze, which in turn made you hug your ukulele. You let your gaze wander through the dark silhouettes of the sleeping city, the sound of the insects humming in a choir in the distance serving as your accompaniment to the acoustic music that you were trying to create at that hour. 'My', you thought to yourself,  'I wonder what's in store for me?'

Through the moment of silent contemplation, and the staring and trying to make sense of the silhouettes painted in the distance, your fingers found itself lingering on to the frets of the instrument that you held tightly between your grasps. With clueless hands and a wandering mind, you let whatever music that may be produced from your thoughtless fingertips on for the silence of the world to hear. With each motion, the small scarf tied to the neck of the ukulele made a little moving motion, slightly tickling your leg. Shifting slightly from your position, you continued on to play to the insects and the darkness.

Mindlessly, you found yourself playing the intro of a song you know by heart. As if on instinct, your hands knew the correct tempo, the precise rhythm, and the correct placement of the chords that you didn't have to take a second glance to know where your fingertips were at, because your heart knew where to place them. And with each breath you took serving as the metronome for the rhythm and the tempo.

Your phone then rang, throwing you off of the daze that you found yourself caught on. You glanced at the contact saw that it was Hiro. Smiling a bit, you placed your phone on the window sill and answered the call. You pressed the speaker button and smiled as his voice soon filled the silence of your solitude.

"Hello," you greeted.

"Hey," he replied, his voice noticeably deep.

"How was your nap?" You asked with a little giggle. He chuckled and you could hear a yawn from the other side, signifying that he just, indeed, woke up from his nap.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping? It's already late."

You giggled a bit and eyed the moon up above, humming a bit before answering his query. "The moon's beautiful tonight."

Your hand began to strum your ukulele. You let a few notes hang in the air for a moment, before you began to hum along the lyrics of the song that you were playing earlier. Somehow, you found yourself being sucked into the small world that the melody brought forth, and you almost forgot that you were in the phone with someone.

"Hold on, I have to grab something," he said, which then somehow snapped you out of the little reverie you caught yourself onto. You could hear the shuffling of the covers from the other line and you hummed in acknowledgement. Continuing to strum your ukulele, the pattern over the past second became more and more consistent, and each strum becoming more and more familiar. You waited for the cue and then began sing the first lines of the song Heavy Crown by Trixie Mattel.

"Heavy head and a heavy crown, had a few since you came to town. Where are you gonna keep them still?"

"Winning's losing with a couple strings, it's a choosing between two things. It's a two-piece suit or all the frills."

You giggled a bit when your finger strummed the wrong string. You then paused and eyed the moon above, continuing on with your contemplation all the while waiting for the other person form the other side of the line to come back.

"Why'd you stop?" Hiro suddenly spoke.

His question made you blink. Needing a moment to process his question, you stayed silent, slightly confused. When you finally caught up, you could feel your eyes widening in shock and your heart stopping for a moment.

"O-oh? You heard that?" You asked, flustered. You could feel your cheeks heating up in embarrassment. No one ever heard you sing, you didn't let anyone listen or at least hear you open your lips to hum a certain tune or even a melody.

His sweet chuckle from the other line made your cheeks grow redder. As if that wasn't already embarrassing enough. "Yeah I did. You have a beautiful voice. C'mon, you need to sing more often."

You nervously laughed and bit your lip. "Uhm..."

"It's the first time I heard you sing actually. C'mon, sing a tune."

You stopped yourself from smiling at his compliment. You weren't going to lie, that felt great. It felt good to somehow be appreciated for the small things that you felt quite shy about. However, you were still embarrassed from earlier so you said; "No. I don't..." you cleared your throat and eyed the horizon above, "I don't sing anymore so I'm quite, y'know, rusty... and bad. Really bad." You said the last sentence in a whisper.

Unfortunately for you, Hiro heard that. "Why? I think you have a good voice. It'd be a waste if you're not singing anymore."

You let out a sad laugh, the stars twinkling in the horizon also gave you the impression that they were laughing at you too. "Well, it's just... people used to laugh at me and stuff when I do sing so like... yeah."

Utter silence from the other line.

You waited for a moment, playing with the scarf around the neck of your ukulele before you looked back at your phone to see if the line was cut off or not. Strangely, it was still connected. So he just wasn't talking...

You raised a brow, confused. "Hiro?"

"Yeah? Oh sorry. Hold on, I'm just thinking of ways to hunt that someone down," he said with a grunt from the other line.

You cracked a genuine smile, something that you really can't manage especially after recalling such a sad memory that you kept at the back of your mind, never to be remembered. You giggled a bit at his statement and sighed. "Well, what more is there to do now? I mean, I still suck at it. And like, it still is traumatizing me at this point so..."

"Look, whatever you're thinking right now— stop. You have a good voice and I would die just to listen to that again."

You couldn't help the smile breaking onto your face, the heat climbing up your cheeks, and the tears that somehow found itself up to your eyes.

"Oh you," you said with a laugh, in an attempt to push down the tears from pouring out of your eyes.

"What? It's true. Now, who ever laughed at you for singing, well, I would like to have a little chat with them. Just... just a chat," you can hear the humor in his voice and you couldn't help but keep laughing at his silly remarks.

"Is this a tactic to get me to sing to you?" You asked him, tone playfully taunting.

He hummed from the other line, "No...? Well, I'm just trying to prove my point here. What do you have against that?" You could literally hear his smile from the way he said his statement.

You shook your head, although he couldn't see you. "Nothing. Just... trying to find out the intent behind these flattering words."

"Not a single ill intention," you could hear his chuckle, "I just wanted to give you the words that you needed to hear."

"Well, how kind of you," you said with a giggle, feigning formality like that of a princess. Hiro laughed from the other line. You then let silence fall between the both of you.

You eyed the moon above —  still on her full glory. You never know what is it with the moon and the way it does always give you the feeling of safety, but here you are — basking in the comfort of her dim light, listening to the insects in the distance, and laughing without a care in the world with your friend over the phone. You also have a feeling that Hiro was also peering out of his window, eyeing the moon. You wondered for a moment if he was feeling the same as you were at that very moment — at peace.

You can picture him perched on his window sill, phone in hand and probably doing something else whilst listening to you, like what he always does.

In the midst of the silence, he called out your name. You hummed in return, telling him that you were still there, listening.

"I'm sorry."

You blinked, confused. "For what?"

"For... for everything." You could hear the defeat in his voice from the other line.

You couldn't help the sad smile. Biting your lip, you ran through the things that you wanted to say to him. But since things already happened, and there was no turning back now, you only settled on; "There's nothing to be sorry about, Hiro—"

"Look, I know I messed up big time but I..." he took a pause, as if trying to regain his composure, "I just don't want to lose you." You sighed at his statement, but nonetheless, continued to wear that same smile that you would always give him as something to assure him. But at that moment, it seemed that the emotion was directed to you — you were assuring yourself.

"Well, it's okay." It's fine. You're okay. "And I'm still here Hiro," you assured him. But as you did so, your smile slowly began to lose its emotion. There were moments that you had to put yourself aside just so you wouldn't ruin things for the both of you. It was hard, yes. But... somehow, you were fine. You just had to gather whatever courage you had for yourself and silently fight the battles that you were left alone with.

"Yeah but I... I'm still sorry."

"It's okay. I don't blame you, okay? There's absolutely nothing wrong with that. Your feelings are valid. Always. Remember that, okay?"

"I..." somehow, you could hear him battle out his own demons just judging by the tone of his voice. And there it is again, you thought to yourself. At this point, you knew how to read him as if he was an open book. He was guilty. You took a deep breath and thought of whatever you can say to him that'll somehow put him at ease.

Somehow, despite the hurt that he gave you, you still found compassion for him. You wanted to hate him for what he did, but oddly, you can never find it in yourself to loathe him. You can never find it in yourself to be angry at him entirely. You care too much. You have no idea if that is a blessing or a curse. Nonetheless, you still found words to somehow put him at ease, and you're hoping it will give him peace.

"Hey, don't be too harsh on yourself. Things happen and you shouldn't beat yourself up for it. Don't worry about me, just focus on Megan, 'kay? I'm fine. Trust me. I'll be here when you need me."

"...okay." He sighed, defeated. You smiled at that. Then silence engulfed the both of you once again. Your fingers began to feel for the strings of your ukulele, then soon, the silence was then filled by the rich melody that your hands created, soothing the heavy ambiance that somehow wiggled its way between the both of you. Little by little, there was consistency in the chords that you played, and you found yourself being pulled into that little daze that carries you anywhere but the ground, only brought forth by music. But the melody was broken when he spoke once more from the other line, causing you to stop playing.

"Sing it."

You paused. "Hmm? Sing what?"

"That. That song. You should sing it."

You paused and bit your lip. But you nonetheless followed his request. Taking a deep breath, you opened your lips to start the first few lines of the song.

"And I don't smell you in my sheets. And I don't hear you in the hall. Without your cologne, your calls on the phone, I don't know you at all..." to begin with, you had no idea why you chose this song, but it just somehow explained your side...

When you were finally told that he was dating Megan... It felt so much like a slap in the face. Somehow, at the back of your mind you were expecting that. But you never really thought of how hard that might hit you when you were finally coming face-to-face with that fact.

"And I'm growing older, I know that we're over, the way we'd always have been. And then I see you... And I know you all over again." There was never a 'thing' between the both of you, but maybe... it was just because you were secretly hoping for more. But when the chapter has to finish, and the book is coming to a close, you have no choice but to stop writing the pages and bring it all to an end.

For you.

And for him.

For your peace, and for your happiness.

Because you deserve better. You deserve so much more.

This song... somehow became your closure. With each word that you sang, you could feel everything being left behind. As if all the events that unfolded became nothing but distant dreams of yesterday's escapades. Just remnants of silly conversations, and little decisions that led to actions that felt so much like a strange fever dream. And just as it always will be — nothing more than just... that.

You know to yourself that if you wanted more, you could always gain more. But it felt like this is all where it's headed. And thus, you'll let it go.

What a waste. But what is there to throw away wherein there was nothing to waste in the first place? Nothing fruitful grew out of it, and thus, nothing will be withered away. Not a single one.

And with the final chorus, you felt your heart ache from the bittersweet feeling that you got. "And then I see you... And I know you all over again."  It felt bittersweet, because it was like saying goodbye to a million what-ifs and what-could've-beens. But what are those worth when the outcome of letting it all go is the never ending peace that you longed for in what felt like a while?

"And then I see you... And I love you all over again."

With the final strumming rhythm and with the final hums of the strings of your instrument dissipated the chaos that you have been fighting with for months on end. With the final vibrations of the melody came the silence that welcomed the peace that calmed the storm that kept raging inside your heart for months. So, this is what it felt like before.

For the first time in months, you felt as if you could finally breathe. You let yourself take a deep breath, and you could've swore that it never felt so easy. As if millions of worries were suddenly lifted from your chest and it just felt so... freeing.

You thanked the moon, the stars, the universe, and the heavens. Because finally, the chapter has ended.

And that night, you finally slept soundly on your bed.

Yet little did you know, the final words that you sang left a footprint on Hiro's heart. A tear rolled down his cheek and he couldn't help but eye the moon and question; "Why?"

[raisoramizu]

New Order - Chapter 3: Trust Me

Hazbin Hotel Fanfic (Radioapple/Radiostatic/Radiostaticapple) - Previous Chapter: Intro - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 Follow me on Bluesky or X - Raisoramizu https://x.com/Raima_chan https://bsky.app/profile/raisoramizu.bsky.social

The terror that enveloped Alastor was something beyond what was normal for him. He had only ever felt such fear in the presence of Lilith, and he never imagined he'd feel anything like it again—least of all before Vox. Of all the demons who wanted him gone, Vox was the last one he'd have wanted to run into. It wasn't just a matter of power; it was also about pride. After all these years, encountering him like this would mark nothing short of total defeat.

The Radio Demon knew this all too well. But why in hell would a rat like Vox choose to show up, in the flesh, now of all times?

He couldn't show fear... damn it, he was becoming everything he'd ever despised. Everything he'd hidden behind his smile and the filter that dulled the tone of his voice.

His jacket still hung open—but thankfully, his shirt remained buttoned—as he stood his ground. He straightened his back against the wall that marked the end of the alley, with Vox blocking the only way out. Damn, Vox, you're always so explosively emotional. You just showed up and already look like a drenched chick trying to act tough.

He stared at him for what felt like an eternity. The rain streaked down Vox's screen, and his heavy, labored breathing shook his tense figure. His arms were spread slightly apart, his blue claws on full display. Was he taking an offensive stance? A challenge? How can you challenge me with that face? If I had all my power, I could erase that desperate expression in a second. And you're scared—I can see it, even if you're standing here in front of me.

"Well, well, Flat Face ~ You finally crawled out of that ass crack you love so much, without your goons? You're making progress ~" Alastor vibrated, his smile widening from ear to ear. He lifted his chin, tilting his head in mock pride, both hands clasped behind his back.

"Don't play with me, Old Dog... because... I know everything!" Vox's desperately aggressive reply froze Alastor's expression. What was he saying? Was he bluffing?

The Stag Demon spread his arms, his claws raised skyward, summoning a vortex of shadows from the ground, out of which snaked several tendrils. The rush of air forced Vox to shift into a more stable stance, his brows furrowing. Always drunk.

Vox's face was flushed, partly from intoxication, but mostly from the anger and tension he felt in that moment. He was hot despite being soaked from the rain. He could feel it seeping through his pinstripe suit, his white shirt sticking uncomfortably to his dark skin, irritating his circuits to the point that static electricity crackled from his antennas.

"If you want a fight with me, it won't happen. I've got no time to waste... on you," Alastor resumed.

"Heh-heh-heh." Vox's nervous laugh forced Alastor to sharpen his gaze. "So what's your plan? To run away like always, like the coward you are?" ... "Where's your cane, Alastor?"

The question struck him so hard that he staggered back a step. Vox took one forward, planting his shoe into a puddle. "It burned up, didn't it?" He continued with a sharp, desperate grin. "Stop pretending... it won't work on me. I know how weak you are, and this time, you won't escape me. I'll make sure of it. Just look at yourself!"

At that moment, Vox's voice turned into a snarl, distorted, losing its clarity as if his speakers were malfunctioning. "...you're... you're pathetic. You can't hide anymore... you're fragile, defenseless..." His eyes widened, but even his conviction seemed shaken.

Nowhere near as much as Alastor's, who felt his lungs tighten, and his gaze dropped to the ground, searching for his reflection in the large puddle forming beneath his feet. He was pathetic too—worse than Vox.

He was pale, with dark rings under his eyes. His hair, once pristine, now clung in red strands around his face, and even his deer ears couldn't stay upright under the weight of the rain. His shirt was rumpled, his bowtie loose, and his jacket hung open, stuck to his gaunt frame... he was desperate. The more he forced his smile, the more his eyes betrayed the anguish he was trying to hide.

He trembled, spreading his arms wider as the swirling mass of shadows rising from the ground intensified, creating a handful of small black creatures, marked with voodoo symbols, that shot towards the TV Demon. Simultaneously, he wrapped himself in a spherical barrier, beginning to dissolve into the shadows.

Before the creatures could reach their target, Vox bared his fangs, his body sparking with crackling electricity. With a powerful stomp, his foot sank into the puddle up to his ankle. When the bolts hit the water, they used it as a conductor, amplifying the energy.

In the blink of an eye, the surge electrocuted the small creatures, burning them as they shrieked and scattered, only to be reduced to ash. The electricity also reached Alastor, who was attempting to slip past him, his form melting into the darkness.

The Radio Demon's figure was engulfed in golden arcs of lightning, his terrified, pained shadow projected onto the opposite wall of the alley, before reforming—distorted by sharp radio static—at Vox's feet.

Vox stood over him, looking down—Alastor prostrate before him, his face in the mud. He was panting with incomplete, desperate excitement, continuing to shock Alastor. He couldn't stop himself. He needed more... and Alastor groaned, clawing at the ground, his ears pinned flat to his head, crackling and sputtering like a broken radio as the magic he instinctively unleashed in response to the pain distorted the reality around them. The Stag Demon's body began to smoke from the heat, while Vox clenched his jaws tighter, drooling, the lightning in his right eye swirling wildly.

Then, suddenly, something clamped onto his ankle with force. ... Vox curiously glanced down. It was Alastor's hand. Realizing this, Vox noticed something else, too. He was crying. A red tear streaked down his screen.

Instantly, Vox cut off the current, leaving the other demon to slump with a ragged gasp —~ ~ collapsing to the ground but failing to hit it.

Alastor's eyes went wide as cold metal clenched around his neck, choking off his breath and yanking him back, slamming him hard against the filthy asphalt of the alley.

Alastor clenched his eyes shut, gritting his teeth as he frantically clawed at the object choking him. But he was forced to snap them open when he felt Vox's fingers tighten around his jaw. ...! The other demon was on top of him, straddling his hips, sinking his claws deep into Alastor's cheeks, piercing through them. Vox's face was a mask of crazed elation and despair, his antennas still crackling with electricity, his pupil darting wildly. He drooled just as much as Alastor, who was being strangled by a steel cable coiled tightly around his neck, anchored to Vox's skull. The pressure was so intense that Alastor felt a sharp, dangerous pain shoot down his spine. If Vox kept going, he'd snap his neck. "How wonderful is it, Alastor, to see you clutch my ankle, begging me to stop?" Vox asked, laughing feverishly. "How glorious would it be to hear the sound of your neck snapping? Or to watch you foam at the mouth as you choke to death?"

The Stag Demon, still full of the adrenaline from being electrocuted, thrashed violently, trembling, writhing. He kicked his boots against the pavement, stomping them into the water, lifting his knees, trying to strike Vox's back in a desperate attempt to free himself. Around them, voodoo symbols swirled, so dense with magic that one of the streetlights by the adjacent alley burst, plunging the scene into deeper darkness.

"You're pathetic. Do you feel humiliated? Don't worry, you'll enjoy it soon." Vox continued, leaning further down until the bluish light from his screen illuminated Alastor's face. "You like it. You want to obey me, to do everything I ask. You want to serve me, to join me, to please me, you want to..." he began listing, his voice dropping in intensity, "...give yourself to me," as the hypnotic lightning swirled in his wide, spinning right eye.

Alastor froze. His red sclera reflected the opposing color that Vox emitted, the blue glow shining on his skin, blackened by the electrocution and distorted by the pressure that had filled his mouth with his own blood. ... Time stretched as the Radio Demon emptied himself: the pain vanished. He no longer felt choked, nor did he feel the tightness in his chest. He felt... nothing. Only calm. Only peace. Only desire, respect, need. He stopped struggling, his legs falling limp in the rainwater, his magic ceasing and the voodoo symbols fading from the alley.

"Vox~" he managed to whisper just as the other Sinner released his jaw, loosening the grip around his neck as Alastor's own eyes began to swirl in sync with Vox's. Vox had done it again. He had hypnotized Alastor once more. The challenge now was to maintain the trance without letting him wake up—last time had been a disaster. But now, the Demon seemed genuinely weakened. He had broken him far too easily for those words in the corridor to have been a bluff. This time, he wouldn't snap out of it. This time, Vox would keep him. He was trembling with excitement, almost bursting with anxiety. He had to hold back or he might accidentally incinerate him.

The TV Demon's shoulders started to shake with a hysterical laugh that grew louder and louder. "Heh-heh...eh-eh," he chuckled. "Good. Now... sleep, my dear Alastor." His voice distorted with an electronic effect, commanding the other Sinner to slowly shut down. And then, there was darkness.

...

The Stag didn't even realize he had slept; it had been a dreamless slumber, peaceful like the first moments of death. And now, where was he? He opened his eyes, gradually focusing on a blue neon light shining from the ceiling. He was in a huge room; maybe it wasn't a room at all, but a full-on apartment. A penthouse? It felt large—he was definitely on a king-sized bed in a loft, and below was a living room along with doors leading to other rooms. From the windows came the faint reddish glow of Hell, but most of the space—modern, for sure—was illuminated by cool blue neon lights.

He tried to roll over, clutching the black satin sheets with his claws, but he found himself trembling. Everything hurt. It felt like he'd been crammed into a small box for hours or, more likely... electrocuted for too long. Every muscle in his body shook from the strain it had been under.

He found himself lying face down, still feeling the wetness of his clothes from the rain, but also from sweat. His hair hung over his face, and he watched as his saliva dripped onto the sheets. He was thirsty.

"I brought you something warm to drink; it's on the nightstand."

Vox's voice. Alastor froze, his stomach dropping as he noticed legs moving beside the bed. His fear surged when he also spotted the slow swim of electronic sharks on the wall—no, in the wall. The entire thing was a massive aquarium, stretching both floors of the apartment. His ears flattened against his skull as his gaze slowly climbed the figure of Vox up to the television set that replaced his face. The TV Demon wore black pants and a clean shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the first two buttons undone, revealing his bluish skin. Alastor barely had time to note he wasn't wearing his usual hat before the large, blue-framed eye of the other Sinner began to swirl again, its crackling bolt of lightning serving as a pupil.

"..." Damn it... he couldn't let himself fall asleep again. He couldn't give in. And yet... that feeling was so welcoming. The pain started to fade, turning into a muffled echo before disappearing altogether. The fear melted into peace and desire. He wanted to be here. He felt safe. Why hadn't he ever thought to ask for Vox's help? Vox had everything, controlled every corner of the city, had the power and, most importantly, the will to protect him. He wasn't broken, wasn't fragile, wasn't obsessive. He wanted to be protected by him. He wanted to belong to him.

"Vox~" he called out melodically, trying his best to sit up as his eyes swirled in sync with the TV Demon's.

Even though he no longer felt the physical pain, fatigue weighed heavy on him, threatening to make him collapse, but the other Sinner wrapped a firm arm around his slender waist as he sat down next to him, his bare feet touching the floor.

Alastor clung to his shoulder, rising to his knees beside him, panting as he bent over Vox's neck. His frozen smile remained plastered on his face, but even when the hypnotic effect wore off, his eyes became blank, expressionless. He no longer felt pain or exhaustion, but something in his mind was clearly wrong. His body refused to cooperate. He was trembling—maybe because he was cold. After all, his burns were still fresh, and his neck was bruised black from the steel tentacle that had tried to strangle him. That's where he felt Vox's claws brush him.

The TV Demon left a rough caress on his skin, sliding the tight collar of his shirt out of the way before his fingers traveled up along Alastor's jaw, cradling his chin to tilt his face upwards, forcing him to meet his gaze—two different shades of red glowing from his tired, curious eyes. Vox's screen flickered with a soft blush in response to the look.

"You're..." He started to speak, but his voice faltered, pulling a tight smile of strange discomfort across his lips. Was it disbelief? "You're still soaking wet. You're in terrible shape, but we have special ointments from the Circle of Sloth that work miracles." He paused, "Tomorrow, you'll be in perfect condition to debut as the new Vees."

At those final words, Alastor let out an irritated radio buzz that made the other demon flinch. Vox's hand suddenly slid down his spine, gripping one of his thighs—still covered by his pants—between his claws and pulling him close. At the same time, he leaned down, looming over him, casting the blue light of his screen onto Alastor's wide eyes.

"So, do you finally accept your place in this company, my dear Alastor...? Or should I call you Valastor?" His hypnotic right eye expanded, his jaws gritting as drool began to spill aggressively.

The Stag Demon shuddered, pulling his legs in closer while still clinging to Vox's shoulders. "Oh yes, of course~" he answered, slipping once again under Vox's control.

The response electrified Vox—literally—his body jolting with excitement as his back arched and lightning danced between his antennae. "Ohh! Magnificent! This time we'll seal a proper pact, but later... right now..." He began to drool even more as he leaned his full weight onto the other Sinner.

He dug his claws forcefully into Alastor's thigh, pressing his body against him so forcefully that it made him arch backward, forcing him to grip tighter onto Vox's shoulders to avoid falling completely flat on the bed. Vox's hand dropped from his chin, hastily fumbling with the buttons of the damp red shirt Alastor had barely kept on. His breathing grew heavier, matching the intensity of the crackling bolt in his eye. The impatience turning into frenzy—he was on the verge of claiming Alastor violently. Finally, it was time.

"Now..." Vox repeated, his massive blue tongue slipping out from his fangs to lick lasciviously at Alastor's chin and cheek. In response, Alastor shuddered, flattening his ears and emitting a distorted radio frequency. "...I'll give you a nice, hot bath and take care of your wounds. You're freezing."

Vox, on the other hand, was burning up. His clean shirt was already sticking to his sweaty skin as he pushed Alastor flat onto the bed, climbing on top of him. He placed his knees on the mattress, between Alastor's legs, forcing them open as he pressed his tousled head against the edge of the bed, continuing to lick him, leaving trails of saliva down his neck while his claws clumsily fumbled with the last few buttons of his shirt. The static from Vox's right eye grew louder, mirroring the intensifying rise of his breath, as if all his desires were finally coming to a head.

Alastor began to twitch, his bare legs scraping against the sheets, his magic flooding the air, turning the blue neon hues into greenish shades. His smile was at odds with his half-closed eyes and furrowed brows, suggesting nothing but pain.

"This time... this time, I won't let you break free from my hypnosis, Alastor," Vox murmured, exhaling his name like a breath of smoke. "In time, you'll see that your place is here. Together, we'll rule Hell... every communication channel will be ours... you can make all the other Overlords disappear into your radio, and it will just be us—the Vees..." His excitement had already swollen to the point of pressing against the fabric of his pants, his hips grinding into Alastor's waist. The TV Demon groaned that final word into his mouth just before shoving his thick blue tongue down his throat, driving it so deep Alastor gagged.

The Stag Demon's eyes widened, the breath choking in his throat. He tilted his head back, but this only gave Vox more room to drive his tongue deeper, past his uvula until saliva started to overflow, making his eyes water. He began to kick at Vox's side, clawing at his shirt, but even sinking his teeth into the demon's massive tongue wasn't enough to free him from the sickening sensation of suffocation. But somehow, it stopped.

Vox pulled back abruptly, his shoulders retreating as he suddenly noticed the fluorescent symbols that glowed over Alastor's bony chest. This gave the other Sinner a moment to gasp, drooling against the bed.

"What are these...? Have you always had them?" Vox asked, wiping his fangs, his gaze searching for Alastor's exhausted expression.

Alastor didn't respond. "..." He stared into space, panting, his smile faint and hollow.

"These are the Voodoo symbols from the ritual that gave you your magic, right...? I recognize this one." Vox pressed a claw against the crossroad symbol of Kalfu, situated where the angel's spear had pierced through Alastor's body.

At the slightest touch, Alastor groaned in pain, his shoulders jerking up. Propping himself up on one elbow, he clawed at Vox's wrist, his pupils replaced by ticking dials. "Don't... don't touch it!" He growled, glaring at Vox, who was left staring at him with his mouth slightly open.

"They appeared when I lost most of my power... in the exact spots where I was wounded..." Swallowing a lump of saliva, he continued, more calmly now, as his gaze returned to its natural shade of red. "...Oh~ It's like the magic wants to break free. It's scratching, eating me from the inside... I feel like it's talking to me, telling me something, like it's almost time for... what?" He became increasingly desperate. "...But it's... stuck..."

"..." Alastor groaned in pain once again.

"..." Vox hesitated. "...Who did you make the Pact with, Alastor?" The TV Demon barely managed to ask, stunned and fearful, just before his attention was drawn to the shadow stretching behind the Stag Demon. It was his own dark silhouette, but its expression, with a faint glow in its eyes and smile, was utterly out of sync with the agonized, exhausted look on its master's face.

Knock, knock, knock

At that moment, someone knocked at the door. Vox flinched, his focus shifting to the entrance downstairs, leading into the open-space living room.

"Vox?! Are you in here? What the hell happened to you?" It was Valentino's voice.

The banging on the door grew so intense and rapid that it started to shake.

Bzzzzt Then, the TV Demon himself began vibrating from the ring of a cellphone; Valentino's incoming call flashed on his screen. Vox shot up from the bed, releasing Alastor, and answered with a growling, "I'm letting you in, Val!" He hung up before the other could say a word.

Placing his hands on his knees as he stood, he disintegrated into a lightning bolt, racing through the room's electrical system and reappearing downstairs in a flash—his expression now twisted in anger. But it quickly shifted into a wide smile just as he opened the door with enthusiasm. "Val..! What's go—"

"Oh, finally, damn it!" Valentino cut him off abruptly, shoving him aside as he stormed into the room. The Moth Demon pushed past Vox, taking a few nervous steps into the living room before inhaling deeply, burning through half the cigarette clamped in his holder. "What the hell have you been doing, sweetheart? I've been texting you since yesterday!" His smooth, seductive voice now tinged with irritation.

Valentino was taller than Vox, with purplish skin and a bald, round head that made his sharp, slit-like red eyes stand out even more. His heart-shaped pink glasses rested on his face, and they weren't just for show—Valentino was nearly blind. He wore his signature red fur-lined coat, tailored to accommodate his four arms. The coat matched the color of his lone intact antenna, as the other was ragged and patchy.

The TV Demon closed the door behind them, his screen-face now covered in beads of sweat as he nervously watched his partner pace the room.

"I've been busy, but..." Vox straightened up, "...I've got great news."

"...?" Valentino paused, standing in the middle of the sleek living room, decorated with retro couches, a minibar, and '80s arcade cabinets. He crossed his upper right arm over his chest, continuing to puff on his cigarette holder, his gaze locked on Vox while the massive aquarium behind him cast bluish, oceanic hues across the space. "Oh? And what's that?"

Vox glanced guiltily at the floor, which made the Moth's eyebrows raise. In that exact moment, Valentino noticed something unusual on the wooden loft above, which served as the bedroom. When he lifted his head, he saw it—through the pink tint of his glasses—Alastor.

Well, he didn't see him clearly. Squinting, Valentino craned his neck and stepped closer to get a better view under the balcony. The Radio Demon was kneeling on the bed, staring blankly into space.

The burnt ash from Valentino's cigarette fell to the floor.

"..." "The... Radio Demon?!" He growled, leaping back in alarm.

"Yeah, it's him, but look, Val, everything's fine! He's hypnotized!" Vox tried to calm him, gesturing with his hands and moving closer, a nervous smile plastered on his face. He reached out to touch Valentino's shoulder, but the Moth Demon snapped, letting his cigarette holder fall to the ground and violently grabbing Vox by the collar.

Leaning in, teeth bared, Valentino snarled, "Hypnotized like the last time he almost tore you apart?!" He shook Vox's shirt aggressively. "You give me crap about Angel Dust, and then you bring... the Radio Demon... HERE?!"

Vox gently wrapped his claws around Valentino's forearms, maintaining that jittery smile. "Heh-heh... Val, there's nothing to worry about, I swear. He's lost most of his power; all it takes is a little electricity from me to fry him..."

"Lost his power? How?" Valentino asked, stunned.

"I'm not sure... maybe it's got something to do with Lilith, but... I'll explain everything."

Valentino's jaw practically hit the floor. "LILITH?! Are you... are you insane?!" He thundered, generating a small shockwave that made the bottom of his coat flare out like a pair of massive wings.

"..."

"Maybe I am... maybe I've lost my mind."

...

[manias-wordcount]

Hello!!!!!

Are your requests open??? If so can you write some Mishima???

It’s NSFW 👉👈

Reader and Mishima are in there last year of high school (I think he would be 18??? He’s in his second year in the game, I think. Alternatively both reader and Mishima could be college students)

Mishima has tried over and over again to cure himself of a hard on, but he never quite gets the satisfaction he needs. Maybe reader accidentally catches him and decides to help out??!!!

Study Break (Yuuki Mishima x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗶 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗶 𝘁𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝗻!

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚!! 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁, 𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝗲𝘅 (𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴)

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

You met Yuuki three semesters ago in your Intro to Software Engineering Class- one of your very first classes as you both started university. And although you’ve since changed majors to something a bit more your speed since then, you and Yuuki had a bond that somehow managed to grow past language barriers and summer breaks. However, the fact that you thought he was really cute helped out a lot. And the fact that you seemed to know the answer to his every question about campus also kept you in contact even in the times when you didn’t have classes together. But this time you both lucked out with a humanities class that just so happened to fit into both of your schedules.

  So it’s only natural that you would both take it together. And it was only natural that the two of you would work together for every group project. And it was only natural that you’d end up in his dorm room one day after classes when his roommate was at work, trying to pump out the remainder of this project out in one go. 

  But then, you saw it.

  You didn’t know how long it had been there for. But once you noticed it, it was hard not to notice it anymore. It felt like no matter where you looked, it was just staring at you. Somehow, someway.

  Eventually, Yuuki did notice your sudden awkwardness. And eventually, he did understand where it was coming from too. You could tell by how he shifted his legs and turned away his head to hide his rapidly reddening cheeks from you. But a couple of minutes of typing away at your respective computers in his dorm room did nothing to hide the little growing problem. In fact, it only seemed to become an even bigger distraction than before. 

  “It…it doesn’t hurt,” He told you when you finally bit the bullet and addressed the elephant (or rather, the elephant’s trunk) in the room. He was still refusing to look at you. And it was starting to look like he’d rather be anywhere else but here, despite it being his own room. “Sometimes, it has a mind of its own. It’ll go away shortly. Don’t worry about it.”

  You tried to nod and look away. Tried to focus on something else. He let you sit at his desk while he took the spare saucer chair that had looked like it had seen better days. At least at the desk, you could turn your head and zone in on your work. Or maybe check out all the little nicknacks he had lining his desk. You even tried to read some of the Japanese characters he had on his desk. Letters, notes, and all sorts of things he must have kept over when he moved to your country for schooling. It was something to pass the time. Something to distract you. Something to make you stop worrying- stop thinking about it.

  But you couldn’t stop thinking about it. No matter how many minutes had passed. You just couldn’t stop looking at it. Because it didn’t go away shortly. It was still there. It was still standing. And every single time you glanced at Yuuki’s face, you could tell just how hard he was focusing. But you could also tell that he had made no progress on your group project too. Because his screen had darkened from disuse. And his hands had tightened into fists. And his eyes had squeezed themselves shut as quiet, heavy breaths passed through his mouth. 

  You bit at your lip, your own heart rate raising. He told you that it didn’t hurt. And you can’t say you know too much about how a guy’s body works. But you do know what it’s like to be frustrated like that. You do know what it’s like to face a problem that big that just keeps staring you in the face with nothing left for you to do in that moment. And you do know that there was at least one thing you can do to help him out.

  “W-wait…what are you…?” He didn’t notice when you first got up from the desk. But he did notice pretty quickly when you were suddenly kneeling in front of him and placing a hand on his knee. Up close, you could see the expression on his face more clearly. You could see the brightness of his red blushing cheeks against the rest of his pale skin. You can see the way sweat was starting to line his furrowed brow. And the twitch of his neck as he swallowed nervously as his brown eyes fluttered open to look straight at you. “You don’t have to-”

  “But you want me too.” You responded simply. You knew what you were doing. You knew what he wanted. It was written all over his face and you’d be stupid not to notice. “It’s okay, Yuuki. I know.”

  “You don’t have to, though.” He tells you again, gently, as a sheepish smile tries to make its way on his face. Maybe it’s the thickness of his accented English. Maybe it’s the look on his face. Or maybe it’s your imagination. But you can tell he’s conflicted. Even as he reaches out and places his hand on yours and squeezes, you can tell he’s still weighing his options. You’ve seen the way he looked at you. And you know the way you feel about him. You don’t want to push him but… “I can take care of it later-”

  “Yuuki…” 

  Maybe that’s all he needs. Maybe that’s all you needed too.

  “...Do you want want me to?”

  He paused for a moment. Then another. And another. And another. He said nothing in those moments of silence. Instead, he lets his eyes drag down the expanse of your body. Peering at you from the very top of your head to whatever could be seen as you kneeled between his legs. Every now and then, his eyes would linger on a part of your body. First, it was your own eyes. And then you own lips. He spent some time gazing long and hard at your chest too. And a considerable amount of time looking at your hands as well. But then he snapped his gaze up to your eyes once more. And then he swallowed- the motion being emphasized by the dramatic movement of his Adam's apple before he parted his lips and let out a sharp breath.

  “Yes.” He told you, finally. It was in a quiet voice. But one still full of desire and need and the heavy emotion of lust. If you weren’t listening in so carefully, you probably would have heard it over the sound of him reaching for the waistline of his pants and lifting his hips so you could tug it down. But you did hear it. “Fuck, yes please.”

You heard it very, very well.

  So you don’t waste any time. The second his cock springs free from his pants, you’re reaching for it. Wrapping your fingers around it and giving it a tentative squeeze. In front of you, Yuuki lets out a groan. One that’s soft and low and quiet- but encouraging. One that’s accompanied by him gently wrapping his hand around yours and adjusting the tightness of your grip but guiding you into pumping up and down. 

  Admittedly, you’re probably not the most experienced with this kind of stuff. You’re staring long and hard in surprise when after a couple of seconds, an almost clear liquid starts leaking from the tip. And you’re feeling up every single vein you can find as your fingers explore around his length- always looking at Yuuki between every big move for approval. Despite this, you know enough to understand what you’re getting into. You know enough to understand that you’re probably not going to have the easiest time taking all of his cock down your throat. Even with a little bit of time, effort, and practice. 

  But it’s the way his hand uncovers yours and his head leans back all the way back that keeps you going. It’s the soft little moans under his breath when you reach out and curiously lick at the precum pouring from the head that makes you eager. It’s the way he all but whimpers your name when you lean up on your haunches and wrap your lips around the tip that gets you excited. 

  And although your movements and clumsy and your mouth is now stuffed full with a pretty boy’s cock, you still find there really is a lot for you to learn. And that a blowjob is as easy as you’ve seen in videos and heard your friends talk about. Even if you did quickly learn just how much Yuuki likes it when you use a lot of tongue with him. But that was fine with you for now. At the end of the day, it’s almost like a group effort. A group effort that looks like you taking him as deep as your throat can handle while he closes his eyes and bucks his hips upwards in response. And maybe in the future things might look a little more even. Or perhaps the positions from right now might even change. Who knows. But for now?

  You’re just glad that you have such a great classmate to practice this with. And Yuuki?

  “Fuck…I- I think I’m gonna cum soon…!”

  Well, he just seems happy to be here.

[direwombat]

happy wip wednesday and first day of nanowrimo y'all

tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton (tysm~ <3)

tagging @trench-rot, @cassietrn, @strangefable, @voidika, @madparadoxum, @aceghosts, @adelaidedrubman, @josephslittledeputy, @inafieldofdaisies, @g0dspeeed, @simplegenius042, @miyabilicious, @strafethesesinners, @confidentandgood, @jillvalentinesday, @poetikat, and anyone else with something to share! (also to be added/removed to the taglist, please like/unlike this post here)

here's the intro to the scene directly after this halloween treat i posted of syb getting bit and her transformation. she's havin' a normal one. tw for emetophobia

Sybille comes to consciousness to the light of dawn filtering through the canopy of leaves overhead. 

Her head is pounding, a throbbing pain trapped inside her skull, and she winces as she hesitantly cracks her eyes open. She lets out a groan. The world is overwhelmingly bright. Most of the trees in the county are still changing colors, but here in the mountains, a good number have started to shed their leaves. What little shade they can provide, it isn’t enough to spare the burning to her eyes. 

She lies on the ground, naked as the day she was born, and covered in dirt and blood. She sits up and presses her palm to her forehead, and the second she does, her body is set alight with pain. Every muscle screams at her with an ache so deep that it goes down to the marrow of her bones. Shallow cuts and scratches are littered across her body, from the soles of her bare feet to the blood trickling down her cheek. Yet, while the pain flashes white-hot through her, she’s also fucking freezing. The hair on her arms and back of neck stand on end and through chattering teeth, her breath comes out in visible puffs in front of her. A violent shudder rolls through her, her body desperately trying to ward off the chill.

“Jesus Christ,” she moans, and she runs her hand through her hair, knocking loose leaves, twigs, and pine needles. The sweet, coppery tang of blood sits heavy on the back of her tongue and in her throat, and as she runs her tongue over her teeth — normal teeth — she finds sinewy bits of meat stuck between them.

Her stomach clenches and heaves at the realization and she rolls over onto her hands and knees to expel the rising bile. Only it isn’t just her own stomach acid that splatters onto the forest floor below her. An inordinate amount of blood and chunky pieces of partially digested meat and viscera splash below her. Her throat burns and her eyes sting, prickling with tears, as more and more blood erupts from her mouth. Jesus Christ, this all can’t be hers, can it?

It ain’t. Just deer’s blood.

She gasps her way through the dry-heaves once she’s expelled the last of it from her stomach, grimacing at what appears to be flecks of bone floating in the pool beneath her. Her belly aches, empty and cramping, and she spits a thick, foamy pink wad onto the ground.  Wiping the blood and spittle dripping off her chin, she takes a moment to catch her breath. Ragged pants eventually even out into deeper, rasping inhalations that actually fill her lungs. 

“Okay,” she wheezes. “We’re okay…we’re okay…”

She lifts her head — to take in her surroundings and get her bearings — but as she does, she’s met with the bloody carcass of an elk right in front of her. Its belly is ripped wide open, with its entrails spilling out onto the ground. Dead, milky white eyes stare back at her, and a fly crawls right over one of them, pausing directly on the eyeball to clean itself of the blood on its little insect legs. 

The kill is fresh. No more than an hour or two old. The blood and body are still warm, and the distinctive stench of rot has yet to set in, although she can definitely tell that it’s beginning to sour.

It’s almost a shame to let so much meat go to waste. 

And then she catches the chunky bits of meat sitting in her vomit-blood and the color drains from her face. All signs point to the poor elk being killed by an animal — wolves — but why would they abandon their prey instead of bringing pieces back to their pack? And why would they have let her get so close to such a fresh kill? Why the fuck did she, in what she can only assume was a fugue state, feel compelled to partake in feeding off this kill?

And why does she have the urge to press her fingers into the gaping wound and lick the thick, clotting blood off her fingers?

She shakes her head to free the thought. The dizziness is enough of a distraction to drown out the intrusive thought, but not to quiet it entirely. She’s so thirsty. She’s so hungry. 

She was hungry last night, too, wasn’t she?

Her head throbs again, and she crawls over to a nearby tree to lean against as she shakily rises to her feet. Pressing her hand to her forehead again, she screws her eyes shut, trying to recall the events of last night. The fuck happened?

She remembers dicking around at the office with Joey. 

She remembers Nancy patching a call through to her desk phone. 

She remembers Jacob’s voice on the other end. “One of my workers didn’t show up for the final check-in…no one’s been able to get a hold of him…we rounded up a search party…he’s stew meat now.”

She remembers driving up to the Veterans Center, only to find the place empty. And then…

And then…

Christ, what happened after that? Her jaw clenches, trying to focus on her memories, but all she gets is a blur of emotions. Fear, pain, rage, and then, eventually, hunger. 

Hunger…

God, she’s so hungry her gums ache. 

But her stomach can wait. She needs to find her way back to the Veterans Center and get back to her cruiser. She needs to let the Sheriff’s Department know what’s going on. Let them know about last night. 

She needs to let Eli know she’s alright. 

Shit, where are her clothes?

[edupiii]

🦇The Cryptic Tales of Coppersfield Update!!💛

Now I’m not entirely sure how many people on here actually read my fic The Cryptic Tales of Coppersfield, but incase you do I just wanna give a small update!

I’m more than halfway through finishing Chapter 10 as well as beginning Chapter 11, however, I am in the middle of final exams and essays for my first year of uni so my attention is focused on that stuff. I checked the other day and realized I hadn’t posted a new chapter in a while so I just wanted to put out this PSA incase any readers were wondering what was happening.

I’m also finishing up the designs for Lizzy and Khan, and sketched out Alice and Beau (even though they aren’t gonna show up for a while, I wanted to draw them). I think I’ll be making a new design for Uzi and possibly Thad since they were the first ones I made and looking back I think I could do better on them. To thank you for your patience and understanding, here is the intro to the next chapter!!

(Uzi uses she/they pronouns interchangeably btw, just a heads up incase you get confused reading)

TW: mention of body horror

Chpt 10, Game Plan

It was getting closer, she was sure of it. They couldn’t hear it over the sound of her own laboured breathing and the crunching of fallen leaves underneath their heavy steps; but they knew it was coming. They had been running in the dead of night for…she wasn’t sure on the exact amount of time, but a long time would suffice for an answer.

She stopped in the middle of a clearing and spun around, feeling the distinct fear of recognition growing. She had already been here. They’d gone in some type of messed up circle. But how?

Without warning, the sound of whatever was chasing her had caught up. They could hear it’s own heavy breathing and it’s snarling grin as it approached the small, tired figure. She begrudgingly turned their form to face their enemy, feeling her gut twist as the moonlight glistened off its torn and broken flesh’s

The creature cocked its head while making some sickly attempt to laugh at its preys reaction. It looked like it could have at one point been human, but its length and height were far too unnatural of any persons. Where Uzi assumed its eyes would be was covered by greasy hair while its mouth hung open. It’s not that it was opening its mouth, it’s that it no longer had a bottom jaw to close its ever gapping gob.

Long, spindly arms helped it crawl its thin yet heavy body closer to Uzi, her feet trying to move but unable too. Finally this thing stood over the terrified teen, drool dripping from its hanging maw onto Uzis hair and face. Its head drew closer and closer, its features becoming more prominent with every passing second.

The filthy hair covering its eyes slanted as it smiled down at Uzi, allowing her to be able to see the creatures face. As they looked in horror, a tinge of confusion began to swell. What gazed back at them were not eye’s necessarily, but two sagging black sockets. In the middle of each empty hole was that strange three pronged symbol Uzi had seen so many times before. They were glowing yellow and shaking sporadically.

Uzi snapped out of their trance as the thing inched its putrid face ever so slightly to her own, causing them to try and retreat. But they couldn’t. She looked back up and gazed at the beast whose warm breath incapsulated their face.

“Wha-what the hell are you?” they asked in a shaking voice. “Some kin-kind of eldritch monster?”

The thing reared back slightly, almost like it was in shock. However, this feeling quickly faded away as it brought its face right back up to Uzis.

“It hurts our feelings you don’t remember us.”

Uzi tried to pull away once again while looking at the things mouth. “How can-can you talk!? Some psychic link! You don’t even-“

“Easier to assimilate then explain.”

A large claw seemed to almost emerge from the shadows, its skin black with webbing between the talons. It rose up quickly and came back down on Uzi who readied for their painful demise, when suddenly-

———

AGN!

AGN!

AGN!

AGN!

Uzi shot straight up from their sleeping position, her alarm clock blaring it’s awful symphony. The noise hurting her very being, Uzi wasted no time scrambling over and slamming a shaking fist on the old electronic. It finally shut up.

Leaning back slightly, Uzi began to notice how much they were shaking. Their breathing was incredibly heavy with her heart rate sending small tremors throughout her body. She also began to notice how sweaty they were (gross! i hate waking up sweaty)

However, like the past week of restless dreams, it’s memory quickly faded from her mind. They couldn’t recall any of it. At least…they’d like to not recall any of it, because the one thing that stuck in her head were the unnerving words that were spoken to them before they awoke.

Spoken in that god awful, familiar monotone voice that chirped in their head.

______

[squish36-writes-and-draws]

Carry a Torch

Word count: 4401 <- untrustworthy number

TW: alcohol

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed!): @stellar-lune @faggot-friday @kamikothe1and0nly @nyxpixels @florida-preposterously @poppinspop @uni-seahorse-572 @solreefs @did-i-say-you-could-get-up @rusted-phone-calls @when-wax-wings-melt @good-old-fashioned-lover-boy7 @dexter-dizzknees @abubble125 @hi-imgrapes @callum-hunt-is-bisexual @xanadaus @callas-pancake-tree @hi-my-name-is-awesome @katniss-elizabeth-chase @arson-anarchy-death @dizzeners @thefoxysnake @olivedumdum

On Ao3 or below the cut!

I would thoroughly recommend reading this on Ao3 if possible. I originally wrote this as a screenplay for my creative writing class and, as such, tumblr nuked the formatting. Ao3 did as well, but less so.

That being said, it's kind of important to understand my larger concept. This is a script for a pilot episode of a TV show. Each episode is going to be featured around a song (and I was forced to write this one which is why it's bad) so at the end, it's a concept album. You will not be allowed to have the rest of the show. I refuse to write it.) This also takes place in 1925 so I've thrown some less than successful slang in there.

INT. EVERGLEN RECORDING STUDIO - MIDDAY - 1925

KEEFE leans over the antique Vernon family heirloom piano where FITZROY (FITZ) is playing. The intro credit music stops as FITZ looks up at him. 

FITZ sighs. 

FITZ

Let me guess. You’ve been thinking.

KEEFE gasps overdramatically.

KEEFE 

(feigned surprise)

Why ever would I do such a thing? You 

know thinking can only lead to dangerous

outcomes. That being said, I did have a

thought. 

FITZ

Stars, why do I even bother anymore? 

KEEFE smiles annoyingly. 

KEEFE

Because I’m very difficult to get rid of.

(beat) 

I trust you know we’ve been looking for 

a new venue since Tam dusted out on us. 

FITZ 

And whose fault was that? 

KEEFE

Legally? Not mine. 

FITZ pinches the bridge of his nose. KEEFE is unbothered by this. 

KEEFE (CONT’D)

Anyway I was talking to Sophie—

FITZ

Anything that starts like that is certain 

to end badly. 

KEEFE

Fitzroy Avery Vacker, listen to me for a 

second for once in your life. Foster has a 

cousin whose family has a place we could 

use. It’s not the most ideal—

FITZ 

(interrupting)

Then why are we even going to bother with

considering it? 

KEEFE

The back corner of a coffee shop is 

better than nothing. Not all of us are 

lucky enough to leech off your parents.

FITZ pauses for a moment, considering making KEEFE verbalize why, exactly, he cut off his relationship with his parents. 

FITZ

I take it that means you’ve already booked

it.

KEEFE

It’s one gig. Do your best to tolerate it. 

KEEFE turns toward the back door. No one knows where he is going, probably including himself. 

FITZ

You know I won’t.

KEEFE

And you know I don’t care. 

The door closes behind him and FITZ cracks his knuckles before going back to playing the piano. 

INT. SLURPS AND BURPS - LATE EVENING/NIGHT

Slurps and Burps is a coffee shop during the day and a Speakeasy at night. People mill about, the space filled with chatter. 

BIANA is sitting at the counter, swinging her feet as she talks to SOPHIE, drinking what is likely spiked coffee. 

DEXTER (DEX) and FITZ are getting everything set up for the performance this evening. FITZ is trying to be helpful. DEX is left moving the piano mostly by himself. 

DEX

(breathing heavy, teasing)

My guy, did you fill this thing with rocks? 

FITZ

(indignant) 

No. It’s just built to last. 

DEX

(proud of his pun)

Well, it could certainly last through me 

driving a car into it. 

FITZ

Why would you ever find yourself in that 

situation? 

DEX shrugs. 

DEX

I don’t know. 

FITZ looks over at KEEFE, who is flirting with some random extra. 

DEX adjusts the piano into its final resting place. 

DEX

Can I get you anything? Java, tea, what 

have you. We’ve got everything.

DEX lowers his voice. 

DEX (CONT’D) 

A little bit of moonshine? It’s a family

recipe. 

FITZ

(low, dangerous)

You know, it’s probably not very good 

business practice to disclose that 

information to just anyone who walks in 

off the street. Somebody’s going to call

copper. 

DEX

(unconcerned, irritated)

You rat me out, you’re out of a job. 

FITZ snorts. 

FITZ 

I didn’t want this gig in the first place. 

FITZ raises his voice. 

FITZ (CONT’D)

Isn’t that right, Keefe? 

KEEFE

I got no context, so whatever makes him 

look the most like a sap is the one I 

want. 

KEEFE spends the rest of the conversation watching them. 

DEX

(voice low) 

Then why are you here? Why did you even 

bother?

FITZ leans against the piano, almost protectively, trying to make himself look relaxed. He is not. FITZ shrugs stiffly. 

FITZ

I had nothing better to do. Trust me. I 

tried. I really did. 

DEX

(maximum sarcasm) 

Wow, that must have been so difficult

for you. 

FITZ

Lay off it, alright? I’m here for Keefe, 

regardless of what you might want to think.

DEX

I want to believe you’re a sap, and you’re

not exactly giving me much evidence to the

contrary. 

DEX takes a sip out of some unspecified alcoholic beverage. This is a speakeasy, after all. 

FITZ

Oh, so you’ve talked to me for what? Five

minutes? And now you think you’re an 

expert in my every waking thought? Every 

detail of my inner psyche? 

DEX puts his hands up, defensive. 

DEX

I didn’t say that, Socrates. Watch your 

tongue the text time you try to blow 

things out of proportion.

FITZ

Like that isn’t blowing things even 

further out of proportion? 

DEX

If I remember correctly—and please 

correct me if I am wrong here—you were

the first to threaten me and my family, 

so I think that’s more than a fair 

trade from your perspective.

The lights flicker, signaling the start of the show. It is operated by DEX’S BROTHER #1.

DEX

Well. 

DEX presses his lips together. 

DEX (CONT’D)

(bitter)

I should tell you to have fun up there, 

but I don’t think you’re capable of

that. Break a leg and all that 

superstitious nonsense. 

DEX shifts to his customer service voice, laced with passive aggression. 

DEX (CONT’D)

Let me know if I can get you anything 

to make your time here slightly less 

inconvenient. 

FITZ turns away without a reply or a second thought. 

EXT. - HAVENFIELD - MIDDAY, FALL

SOPHIE and DEX are sitting under a Jacaranda tree, leaves beginning to fall but not completely bare. They are complaining about many things. FITZ is a large topic of discussion on this fine day, and also KEEFE and BIANA to a lesser extent. 

DEX

How do you put up with all of them on 

a daily basis? 

SOPHIE

Determination, resilience, a lack of 

other valid career paths, and a dash 

of—

SOPHIE wiggles her eyebrows. It is unclear which one she is wiggling her eyebrows about, but that ambiguity will be important. 

DEX sighs. 

DEX

Okay, like, on the one hand, I get what

you’re saying and, yeah, you’re 

absolutely right.

SOPHIE laughs. 

SOPHIE

That’s because I’m objectively correct.

DEX is too far in his own head to react to SOPHIE’s comment. 

DEX

But, like, how can you reconcile that 

with that personality? I don’t get it.

SOPHIE 

There’s nothing to get. Admire from a 

distance and your problems solve 

themselves. Easy. 

DEX pauses to consider this answer.

DEX

No. I don’t like that solution. Give me 

a better one. Replace the personality

itself. You went to college. You have a 

fancy degree in marketing or something. 

Figure it out. 

SOPHIE

Okay, first of all, that was several 

years ago and I haven’t used it since. 

DEX 

You have a photographic memory. Don’t 

try to pull that on me. 

SOPHIE doesn’t know how to reply to this for a beat. 

SOPHIE

(feigned anger)

Damn. How dare you know all my tricks? 

Anyway, I don’t think personality 

replacement was covered in my curriculum. 

Sorry. But do let me know if the store 

needs new customers. 

DEX

Some might argue there’s already too many

people. That doesn’t excuse the fact that

you’re supposed to know the answers to 

life, the universe, and everything. This

has been thoroughly established. 

SOPHIE

Well, I don’t. Sorry. 

DEX pauses for a long time, somewhere in the realm of several whole seconds. 

DEX

I just wish…things would be easier. 

SOPHIE smiles softly, encouragingly.

SOPHIE

On which front? 

DEX laughs bitterly. 

DEX

Yes. 

DEX pauses, debating with himself if he should elaborate.

DEX (CONT’D)

(frequent pauses, struggling with sentences)

It’s just that…Fitz is…tangling 

everything together. I used to be able

to go to work without getting trapped 

in my own mind. And, well, to be 

completely honest, I don’t much 

appreciate it. 

SOPHIE

You should go tell him that. 

DEX physically flinches away from this idea. 

DEX

I have an even better idea. How about 

you go tell your boyfriend Keefe? 

He’s the one that concocted this whole 

booking-Slurps-and-Burps-for-a-gig

disaster. He should be the one to unravel

this Gordian knot of a situation. 

SOPHIE

I’m not dealing with your problems. 

You can talk to Fitz yourself or you 

can deal with it. 

DEX

(Making himself sound useless on purpose)

But, alas, I’m incapable of speaking 

with people in rational terms. Whatever

am I to do? 

SOPHIE

(not buying into DEX’s act)

Don’t make me show you what irrational

terms sound like. 

DEX sighs, defeated. This is going to be unpleasant, but he’s already concocting the bribery he is going to offer KEEFE to make him want to relocate. Preferably without destroying his and SOPHIE’s relationship. 

DEX is also fairly easily convinced to do things he doesn’t want to do while also being immensely stubborn. 

DEX

Fine. 

EXT. RECORDING STUDIO - THE NEXT DAY, DAYLIGHT HOURS 

DEX walks up to the door and argues with himself in his mind before knocking. 

Inside, FITZ sighs and stops playing piano. As he stands, his joints sing the song of their people. Unlocking the door, he finds DEX studying the ground and fidgeting with his sleeve. 

FITZ 

Hello! What can I—

FITZ realizes who is standing in the doorway and drops the polite act. 

FITZ (CONT’D)

(flatly)

—What do you want?

DEX is irritated by this in an effort to not be thinking about how he is engaging in a conversation. 

DEX

Believe it or not, not everything is 

about you. I’m here to speak with 

Keefe.  

FITZ considers this, leaning against the doorframe. 

FITZ

Nah, I don’t believe that one. Besides, 

Keefe isn’t here. I don’t know where 

he is or when he’ll be back. Sorry. 

DEX feels a rush of relief, taking a deep breath. 

DEX

It’s probably futile to ask you to tell

him that I was looking for him, but I’m 

going to hope anyway. 

DEX turns around to leave. 

FITZ 

You’re exactly right. 

DEX

You don’t have to sound so disappointed. 

BIANA (O.S.)

(yelling to be heard from across the studio)

Fitzroy! Stop being so obnoxious! 

BIANA’s voice comes down from a yell to a normal speaking voice as the sentence goes on and she gets close enough to push FITZ out of the doorway and take his place. 

BIANA (CONT’D)

I’m sure Keefe will return sometime 

soon. 

FITZ

(muttering)

Lies. Filth and lies. 

BIANA 

(to FITZ)

He’s going to get hungry sooner or 

later. 

FITZ seems to accept this, rolling his eyes and wandering back to his precious piano.

BIANA

(to DEX)

Can I get you anything? Fitz has an

obsession with baking and we’re

always trying to get rid of the 

aftermath. 

DEX smiles awkwardly as he shakes his head. BIANA turns to not be outdoors anymore and DEX follows her inside. 

DEX

I mean, if you want to sell them at 

Slurps and Burps, I could always

ask my parents. 

DEX shrugs. 

DEX (CONT’D)

I’m sure they’d agree, but I’d rather 

present a possibility than a guarantee, 

you know. 

BIANA

You sound like him.

DEX and FITZ look equally offended by this and avoid eye contact at all costs. 

BIANA takes this opportunity to leave DEX and FITZ together for a length of time while she investigates this route. 

BIANA 

Well, I’ve got some extra time today, 

so I can go ask your parents myself. 

Don’t knock each other off while I’m 

gone, got it? 

FITZ and DEX watch her leave. This is the same door that KEEFE used in the first scene, not the front door. 

FITZ

(yelling after her)

How many times do I have to tell you to

stop meddling in my life?

FITZ huffs. 

DEX gets up to leave out of the front door that is still open. 

FITZ

(irritated and tired)

Where are you going now? 

DEX

…Leaving? 

FITZ

Well, don’t. Biana is going to think 

I’ve planted you in the backyard or

under the floorboards. 

DEX releases an exasperated sigh and sits down on a conveniently placed stool. 

FITZ (CONT’D)

Believe me, I wouldn’t say that unless 

it was absolutely necessary. 

DEX

(his temper finally snaps)

What is your problem, dude? You’ve been 

nothing but rude during the ten minutes

we’ve interacted. I understand if you

don’t like me. That’s understandable. 

But you’re like this toward everyone. I 

can also understand you didn’t want to 

do the gig for whatever reason, but 

instead of being like that about it, you

could’ve figured out a way to sit in 

time out until the last minute. It’s not 

that hard. There’s a very nice storage

closet where I’ve spent more hours than 

I’d like to admit hiding from people.

FITZ’s hands drop forcefully into his lap. 

FITZ

(equally angry)

Why should I explain myself to you? I 

couldn’t care less about what you 

think. I don’t know why you think I 

would. 

DEX

Oh, I don’t know, basic human decency?

I really don’t care if you disagree,

but I tried my best to be pleasant, 

and you made that very, very difficult. 

FITZ

That seems like a you problem. 

DEX

Well, I’m sorry you couldn’t tolerate

a single evening that wasn’t precisely 

what you wanted to do. That must have 

been so hard for you. It’s almost like 

I’m not trapped in that coffee shop 

every single day. 

FITZ

Again, that seems like a you problem. 

I don’t see why I should be concerned 

with a you problem. 

DEX

And I don’t see why I have to put up 

with your—

DEX gestures vaguely at FITZ, unable or unwilling to say what he’s thinking. 

FITZ

(challenging)

My what?

DEX

Your general existence. I don’t want to 

be here as much as you don’t want me to

be here. I would adore being able to 

leave you alone, but it looks like 

neither of us are going to get what we

want. 

FITZ

So you’ve made it your personal mission

to make yourself as infuriating as 

possible in the meantime? 

DEX

I guess so. You didn’t exactly make it

difficult for me. 

The sound of the back door opening stops FITZ from responding. KEEFE enters, mild surprise at seeing DEX but he also doesn’t care that much. 

KEEFE

Did you miss me? 

FITZ and DEX

(in approximate unison) 

No. 

FITZ and DEX look at each other—this is a pretty significant milestone in them agreeing on something. They laugh. 

INT. SLURPS AND BURPS - MIDMORNING

FITZ enters, the doorbell announcing his presence. He makes eye contact with DEX’S SISTER at the counter. 

DEX’S SISTER

Dex! Your friend is here!

DEX appears from the back, expecting SOPHIE or maybe even KEEFE. He has severe dark circles and is immediately irritated by FITZ’s presence. 

DEX’S SISTER trades places with him, though she will be listening to their whole conversation. 

DEX

What do you want this time? 

FITZ

I do believe you’re a tea shop when 

you’re not running from the police, and, 

as such, I’d like a small Earl Grey.

DEX gives him a look. The kind of staredown that requires invocation of the if-looks-could-kill meter. 

DEX takes some of the hot water from the coffee and unwraps a teabag, allowing it to start steeping. 

DEX

And you had to come here for that? 

FITZ

You’ve got the best tea in the shortest

distance from my apartment. 

DEX

You can make tea yourself, you know. 

FITZ

Yes, but, you see, then I have to 

Interact with Keefe. In that case, 

the amount I would spend in bribery is 

significantly greater than venturing 

out into the world. 

DEX

I can almost see that.

DEX hands FITZ the scalding mug of tea. FITZ touches it and flinches away. 

DEX (CONT’D)

Can I get anything else for you today?

FITZ

If you have a least favorite muffin, 

I’ll take one of those. 

DEX studies the muffins for a long second before choosing a victim. It is placed into a white paper bag that is slightly too small for both his hand and a muffin. 

DEX

That’ll be $1.05

FITZ takes out his wallet and slides over a $20. For reference, this is roughly $350 when adjusted for inflation. That is also why the price of a tea and muffin is scaled the way it is. 

DEX’s eyebrows react appropriately to the amount of money this is. 

DEX

(projecting calmness and irritation)

Singlehandedly paying for a week’s rent

isn’t going to make me like you. 

FITZ

Okay. That’s not going to stop me. Just

think of it like a starting point. A 

deposit in exchange for dealing with me

and my—

FITZ gestures vaguely at himself. 

DEX

I’m never going to live that one down, 

am I? 

FITZ

(almost, but not quite, playful)

Not if I have anything to do with it. 

DEX

Lovely. 

FITZ

Careful, I’m willing and able to have 

Keefe perpetuate it even further. 

DEX

I hope you know that my siblings have 

already added it to their very limited

vocabulary, so there’s really no need. 

DEX realizes this may result in additional perpetuity because it sounded like he was trying to make FITZ stop and that means he could take it as a challenge. 

DEX (CONT’D)

Although, I guess there is a constant

need to make me suffer as much as 

possible, so it’s really up to your

discretion. 

FITZ takes the tea, no longer giving him fourth degree burns, and his muffin. 

FITZ

Would you care to dine with me on 

this fine morning? 

DEX makes sure there aren’t too many customers, in case he would be needed to work. There are not. Most of their income comes in after sunset. 

DEX

(loud so his siblings can hear)

Yes, I would like to get paid to not

work. 

FITZ flashes a small smile that DEX does not see.

FITZ and DEX sit at a booth in the corner for minimum visibility. There aren’t many other people and if they get into another argument, they don’t want to be public entertainment. 

DEX

It really is remarkable how determined 

you are to both piss me off and remain

a patron here. 

FITZ

Well, I’m sure you could solve the 

latter fairly quickly. 

DEX gestures widely to the doorway to the kitchen, where his siblings are trying to not be caught eavesdropping. 

DEX

Behold. The reasons I am physically 

incapable of kicking you out. I do that, 

I’m never going to hear the end of it,

and that’ll get out to the rest of our

customers—because of course it will—and

then suddenly they start going down the

street for their mediocre morning coffee. 

FITZ

Well, I’m not a coffee person, so I can’t

review yours, but your Earl Grey is quite

nice. 

DEX lowers his voice conspiratorially. 

DEX

It’s even nicer with a little splash of 

something. If you get what I mean. 

FITZ

(voice low to match)

It’s not even noon yet. 

DEX

Then come back later. Time usually 

travels linearly in the forward 

direction, and then it’ll be after noon

and you’ll have to come up with a new

excuse. If that new excuse just so 

happens to be that it’s not five 

o’clock yet, wait until I tell you about 

what else time can do. It can travel

linearly. In the forward direction. 

DEX’S BROTHER #2 (O.S.)

And we don’t have a band tonight so then

maybe you’ll perform and Dex will be—

DEX turns and points at him. 

DEX

Don’t finish that sentence if you don’t 

want lead poisoning. 

FITZ smiles. 

FITZ

Allegedly. 

DEX

Allegedly. 

DEX turns back to FITZ. 

DEX (CONT’D)

You don’t have to if you don’t want to. 

FITZ

And that sounds like you’re trying to get

rid of me. I’ll see you tonight then. 

FITZ brightens his smile and leaves. DEX doesn’t take any opportunity to argue with him, despite the fact that he has more than enough time to react. 

When the door shuts, DEX releases a big sigh, deflating. 

INT. SLURPS AND BURPS - AROUND SUNDOWN

Slurps and Burps is once again filled with many patrons, and they are once again filling the room with chatter. The piano is already in place, as are BIANA’s saxophone and KEEFE’s drum kit.  

FITZ

(at KEEFE)

Stop looking at me like that. 

KEEFE

(feigned oblivious innocence)

Like what? 

FITZ

You know what you’re doing. Being all 

self-righteous. 

KEEFE

I don’t know what you’re talking about. 

FITZ cycles through a few arguments before deciding it isn’t worth it. 

FITZ

Forget it. We don’t have time to argue 

about this. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I 

do have a small change to the setlist. 

KEEFE

Shouldn’t that have been discussed 

previously? 

FITZ

It’s not like you would care either way.

What’s it you tell me? Fitzroy, it’s 

jazz, nobody cares about the setlist. 

Half of it is already improv. 

KEEFE

That might be accurate, but that doesn’t

mean I like it. 

FITZ turns away, grumbling to himself and searching the crowd for DEX. 

When he does eventually find him, FITZ smiles hesitantly. 

FITZ

So this might be an odd request, but 

please hear me out before you say no. 

DEX

(already irritated)

Go ahead. 

FITZ

(quickly, in a single breath)

I may or may not have a tendency to 

process things by writing songs, which 

I’m sure is a massive surprise 

considering why I’m here. I don’t 

remember exactly why I was talking to 

Sophie a couple of days ago, but that’s 

beside the point. Anyway, I happened to 

be blessed with the songwriting curse 

immediately after she left, and when I 

emerged from the cave, the song’s point

of view was a little wonky. And by that 

I mean, of course, that I tried to 

project into your head, which is really 

weird now that I’m saying it out loud. 

DEX

Calm down. I don’t need you passing out

on me. I don’t want to call Elwin. He’s

already mad at Sophie. I don’t need that. 

FITZ takes a deep, slightly shaky breath. 

FITZ

On a scale of 1 to 10, how likely would

it be that I could ask you really, 

really nicely to do the verse that’s 

attempting, probably very badly, to 

be in your point of view so that I 

don’t have to ask Keefe to do it? 

DEX

About a -7, presuming it’s a logarithmic

scale, but I’ll do it anyway. 

A pause. 

FITZ

Why? 

DEX

Don’t question my motives. Just be 

aware that I don’t know what I’m doing

and if I think about it too long, I’m 

going to go cry in the bathroom, so 

don’t let me think. 

FITZ

Got it. 

A longer pause, FITZ contemplates telling DEX something to help with the fact that his blood pressure is visibly rising. 

BIANA (O.S.)

Fitz! It’s nine. Get going. 

FITZ

(yelling over to BIANA)

Who is this punctual person and what 

have you done to my sister?

FITZ turns back to DEX and pulls a crunched piece of paper out of his pocket. 

FITZ (CONT’D) 

Here’s the lyrics. I didn’t have time to 

formalize any sheet music, but just kind 

of…vibe with the music. That’s kind of 

this whole genre’s mission statement, 

isn’t it? 

DEX

I am regretting my life choices. 

FITZ

I’m sorry to hear that. You’ll be fine, 

though. If not, I’ll bribe everyone with

muffins until the complaints stop. 

DEX

(physically shaking)

Okay. 

FITZ takes his place at the piano, making eye contact with KEEFE. 

FITZ

Trust me, okay?

KEEFE smirks. 

KEEFE

Yeah, of course. I’d let you lead us off

a cliff. 

FITZ

A wouldn’t expect anything less. 

FITZ begins playing an introduction, underscored by low rumblings from KEEFE’s floor tom after the first bar. FITZ’s focus remains squarely on KEEFE.  

FITZ (CONT’D)

(singing) 

HE LEANED OVER THE PIANO

WITH THAT MISCHIEVOUS GLINT IN HIS EYE. 

HE’S BEEN THINKING ABOUT SOMETHING

AND NOW THERE’S NO GOING BACK. 

The tempo ticks upward as KEEFE’s drums develop into a polyrhythm. FITZ leans back, his gaze landing on the ceiling. 

FITZ (CONT’D)

THE WORLD IS ALWAYS MOVING FORWARD

I’M HANGING ON TO WHAT I’VE ALWAYS KNOWN

WHAT I’VE KNOWN HAS GOTTEN ME THIS FAR

WHY BOTHER CHANGING THAT?

FITZ finally looks at DEX, his irritation over the past few days on full display in his tone. The instrumentation drops out for a beat. 

FITZ (CONT’D)

WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO DIFFICULT WITH ME?

WHY DO YOU FIND SUCH PLEASURE ANGERING ME?

IF I COULD LEAVE, I PROMISE I WOULD, 

BUT I DON’T HAVE A WAY TO ESCAPE. 

I DON’T HAVE A WAY TO RUN AWAY FROM THIS PLACE

AND SO I’LL KEEP ON OCCUPYING YOUR SPACE. 

DEX’s voice is so soft even the people standing next to him probably cannot hear him. He’s staring firmly at the ground. It’s not exactly symmetrical in the vocals or instrumentation with the first verse, but there’s no need for it to be. 

DEX 

(singing) 

SHE’S ALWAYS MY WORST INFLUENCE

BY PUSHING ME OUTSIDE MY COMFORT ZONE. 

IF ONLY SHE WOULD UNDERSTAND

I WANT TO FIND AN ESCAPE. 

DEX gains a bit more confidence, staring at FITZ’s shoes and singing slightly louder. 

DEX (CONT’D)

THE WORLD IS ALWAYS MOVING FORWARD, 

I’M STILL RUNNING FROM WHAT I’VE ALWAYS KNOWN. 

WHAT I’VE KNOWN HAS GOTTEN ME THIS FAR

WHAT MORE CAN LIE AHEAD? 

DEX fixes a death glare on FITZ. 

DEX (CONT’D)

WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO DIFFICULT WITH ME? 

WHY DO YOU FIND SUCH PLEASURE ANGERING ME?

IF I COULD LEAVE, I PROMISE I WOULD, 

BUT I DON’T HAVE A WAY TO ESCAPE

I DON’T HAVE A WAY TO RUN AWAY FROM THIS PLACE

AND SO I’LL KEEP ON OCCUPYING YOUR SPACE. 

Two bars of SILENCE echo through the room. 

FITZ and DEX 

(start softly, crescendoing)

IF I STAY HERE AND YOU STAY THERE

I’LL STOP STEPPING ON YOUR TOES 

IF WE PRETEND LIKE NONE OF US CARE

MAYBE IT’LL COME TRUE. 

THAT DOESN’T MEAN THAT I’LL EVER LIKE YOU

AND YOU DON’T HAVE TO LIKE ME. 

PACIFY THE ELDER GODS 

AND THEN WE’LL BOTH BE—FREE. 

There is a long break, filled with instrumentation. BIANA and her saxophone have a whole narrative arc. DEX goes and runs off into the back, trying to never be seen again. 

FITZ

WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO DIFFICULT WITH ME?

WHY DO YOU FIND SUCH PLEASURE ANGERING ME?

IF I COULD LEAVE, I PROMISE I WOULD, 

BUT I DON’T HAVE A WAY TO ESCAPE. 

I DON’T HAVE A WAY TO RUN AWAY FROM THIS PLACE

AND SO I’LL KEEP ON OCCUPYING YOUR SPACE. 

END SHOW

[halfbakedspuds]

Thanks so much to @honeybewrites for the tag!

WIP Questionnaire tag

Ya know what? Let's do this for 11 Past Midnight.

What's the first part of your WIP you created?

Actually the setting itself. 11 Past Midnight takes place in the same universe as Children of the Stars, just several centuries earlier (before humanity got its collective shit together). Originally the 'Fall of Earth' as this period is referred to was just meant to be a fun little worldbuilding thing, but then I realised the story potential it holds.

And boy, 11 Past Midnight is shaping up to tell the story of a very important part of the lore.

If your story was a TV show, what would the intro be?

'Wherever I may roam' by Metallica would both have some symbolic value to it, and would fit the whole 'Heavy Metal Apocalypse' vibe of the setting.

Alternatively: 'Odyssey' by The Flight could also work quite nicely given that it's a song Kat actually plays in the story from time to time and that holds some significance to her.

What are your favourite characters you have made and why?

Yekatarina 'Kat' Mezhova has definitely been the most fun to write purely because she's (and excuse my wording) FUCKING UNHINGED.

I've never really written a protagonist like this before so I'm definitely having a lot of fun just writing the crazy things she gets up to by being herself.

What other pieces of media do you think your fanbase would share?

I think any fans of Mad Max and the first two Metro games would probably like 11 Past Midnight.

Actually some Star Trek and Star Trek: NG fans might be drawn to the whole 'show up, find x, help, and leave' setup of the series as Kat and Artur find holdouts of humanity in the wasteland and try to help them for whatever reason.

What has been the biggest struggle with you WIP?

Research. The majority of the story takes place across Siberia, and figuring out what life is like there and what their cultures are so I can extrapolate for a setting that's both post nuclear and post total ecological collapse has been... interesting, to put it lightly.

Also actually having to put my knowledge of geographic systems to use to figure out the climate of this brave and hellish new world.

Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

Actually that's a major part of the setting: humanity's mistakes killed off everything. In many places you can't even breathe the air unless you've found a little pocket where plants have somehow survived the collapse, and the only things left in the wasteland are the hardiest things: Humans, Roaches, and Tartigrades.

In about ten years, the Empire will be formed, and in a century a madwoman by the name of Doctor Kalmyk Balkhyr will create the Eden project to clean up Earth and will resurrect about 80% of the species that went extinct during the Fall, but for the time being: Earth is dead.

I mean by some metrics, Artur can be considered an animal (given that he gets mistaken for a mutant) but that's a bit iffy of a statement to make.

How do your characters travel/get around?

Kat is a driver for an old Supply Rig that saw action in the Ruso-Siberian war just before the world ended. Although she's not nearly old enough to have fought in that conflict, her grandfather did, and she inherited the Rig from her mother who inherited it from him.

The Rig can best be described as a truck designed to slog it through snow, mud, and those weird sub-terranean ice-sheets of northern Siberia and provide a living space for two or three people for months at a time, as well being decently defendable if attacked.

Most of the story takes place either in the rig while on the road, or trying to get the rig back on the road, so it's the most common source of transport by far for our protagonists

What part of your WIP are you working on right now?

'Episode' one (idk if it's still called that in a written medium), basically just establishing why Kat and Artur are travelling across the Siberian wasteland and why they're sticking together.

What aspects/tropes do you think will draw your audience in?

Probably the trope of an Odyssey, maybe even a stranger in a strange place.

What are your hopes for your WIP?

Mostly just that people will read it. I'll probably just post the parts on Tumblr because it's not really set up to be written as a publishable book

Open tag for anyone that wants it!