#keep them straight?? like some kind of Pole???

[blessphemy]

me seeing in an article that people who regularly spent >1 hour in their 20s in a squat had more osteoarthritis later (overextension of knee): *chuckles* i'm in danger

[sm-baby]

The Chosen One

Freakshow AU by: @hootbon

WHATS UP FREAKSHOWERS, SM-BABY HERE-

Banned myself from drawing for a bit but my creative juices were still screaming at me 😔 gonna also repost this on ao3 later when I set up the account

Word count: 6795

Freakshow AU Able with some indulgent Showtime teehee~ no beta, we die like Queenie HOOTBON DONT MIND HOW OUT OF CHARACTER THIS IS LOVE YOU GIRL MWAH MWAH MWAH MWHA

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Caine and his brother sometimes take bets during games.

There are also times when they get especially bored, and take the games up a notch.

They don't simply place their bets on a chosen human, no. Instead, the brothers figure out a set of games, choose their humans, and steal them away to mentor them. 

Caine’s punishments are especially harsh during these occasions. Although he usually kept a cheerful facade, he would be especially antsy, tap his feet, cross his arms, much less masked. It must sting to have the person you trained lose. Not only is it a bad choice of character, but it's also a bad reflection on you as a teacher. Inadequate. Unworthy. Pitied. 

Able himself was a special man. He never took these sorts of challenges seriously, but rather a bonding activity between him and his dear brother. Maybe because he hadn’t led the circus firsthand, rather, did the business side of things in the background. He never cared for the humans, and simply visits now and then. Caine would often be more strict during his visits. Telling the group in subtle ways to behave for an hour or so.

When he visited though, it was always a treat.

Gangle broke her mask? He supplied one that's—

“A little harder to break. “

Kinger was feeling especially antsy? 

“A 6 legged friend to keep you company!”

Ragatha, did you anger Caine?

“ I will speak to him." 

The group often preferred when Able was over as Caine would be distracted for a few hours-- even if they did have to behave. One would imagine the relief someone would have when Able chose them for a game and be whisked away from the dreaded halls covered from trap to trap. 

That day, the brothers chose a series of games based on the arts. As they stood in front of the number of players forcefully aligned like a character select screen, the brothers pondered their options. 

A series of games based on the arts… It's wisest to pick more of the artistically inclined members of the group, so not someone who specializes in strength or speed… perhaps Gangle or Ragatha or-

“You! At the very back."

It was almost like a death sentence the moment his digit pointed at their person. The group sighed in relief after silently begging, pleading, holding their breath that they would stay out of it, or at least have Able take care of them… but this time it was curious. 

The group stared curiously at Able’s chosen person, who was purposefully placed at the back. Enough to be considered “participating" but not enough to be a quick option. 

Pomni trembled, and just from the beckoning of his finger, she could feel her gravity to be pulled towards the blue ringmaster, the tip of her shoes dragged along the floor as an invisible squeeze engulfed her body. 

“N-No! No no!" Pomni gulped, trying to word a nice way to decline. “ Y-You don't want me! I’m-- not really.." 

Able beckoned her closer. " A ballerina is perfect for a game of art! Apologies if she was your chosen freak brother, but—"

Suddenly, a different kind of gravity pulled on Pomni’s body, in the exact opposite direction from Able. Silently, the older brother, Caine, was pulling the doll away in protest. Pomni was lucky the men were being civil, The opposite poles of gravity would be enough to rip her straight in the middle. 

Still, she grit her teeth while it felt like two children were fighting over a toy. 

“ Oh!" Able laughed. “ That’s cheating brother! I chose her first, maybe you should be more decisive next time you-”

“ No thank you!" Caine said, and Pomni suddenly felt a stronger pull towards him. 

Despite the calm/cheery tone of voice, Caine kept a spot of jealousy at the back of his mind. Usually, he would not care. But this was a special case. Pomni has not yet held a good impression on Able— mostly because she hasn't exactly met him one-on-one—And Caine was not about to let her… 

“ Nonsense!” Able said. Pomni felt a pull from the opposite direction, putting her back in the middle. She could feel her muscles tense from the pressure.

It was … strangely entertaining for the rest of the humans. “ Better her than me." One of them whispered. 

The brothers continued their quarrelling. Able continued." Oh dear brother, the purpose of our freaks is to perform! I don't see why this little thing wouldn't be able to have the same opportunity. “

" Our ballerina is off-limits! You can choose from any other assortment of freaks." A pull.

" She looks perfectly well to me! “ pull. 

“ I won't let you! “ A pull again.

“ Oh, I promise I'll take good care of her! " A pull again!

" No, I don't think so! “ a pull again! 

" You seem to be holding quite the issue with her being with me, brother, why is that?"

“ Because I want her."

Silence… 

The blue Brother stared. 

Caine didn't yell, he didn't speak any louder really, but it was a frustrated tone of voice, more aggressive than passive. Why, Able hasn't heard that kind of tone in a long time. His brother spoke like he was gritting his teeth… curious.

“ I..'' Pomni stammered. “ I think im gonna throw up… “

Quickly, Able let go of his pull, sending her flying towards Caine before being set gently on her knees to the ground. Her hands held to her mouth closing in any sort of vomit.

Pomni could sense reactions from her fellow freaks, snickering, whispers… Although Ragatha wanted to feel bad, even she could feel a sort of satisfaction from the display.

Still…the group couldn't help but figuratively roll their eyes.

Why is it always the new girl?

❄︎ ✌︎ ☹︎ 😐︎ 📬︎ 

Before they knew it, the brothers stared directly at each other… silent, expressions blank yet intense as the two seemed to have a form of communication they could not grasp. The room was as quiet as ever, but the group couldn't help but sense a dangerous amount of tension between the two.

“📬︎📬︎📬︎ 👍︎◆︎❒︎♓︎□︎◆︎⬧︎📬︎ ✋︎ ♎︎♓︎♎︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎ 🙵■︎□︎⬥︎ ❍︎⍓︎ ♌︎❒︎□︎⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎ ◻︎●︎♋︎⍓︎♏︎♎︎ ♐︎♋︎❖︎□︎❒︎♓︎⧫︎♏︎⬧︎📬︎”

“✋︎♐︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎📪︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎■︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♍︎●︎♏︎♋︎❒︎●︎⍓︎ ♎︎��︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎ 🙵■︎□︎⬥︎ ❍︎♏︎📬︎”

“⬥︎♒︎⍓︎✍︎ “

“💧︎♒︎♏︎⬧︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ⬧︎⧫︎♋︎❒︎ ♋︎⧫︎⧫︎❒︎♋︎♍︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎📪︎ ⬧︎◆︎❒︎♏︎●︎⍓︎ ♓︎⧫︎ ⬥︎□︎◆︎●︎♎︎ ♍︎♋︎◆︎⬧︎♏︎ ♋︎ ⬧︎⧫︎♓︎❒︎ ⧫︎□︎ ⬧︎♏︎♏︎ ♒︎♏︎❒︎ ●︎□︎⬧︎♏︎📬︎ ✋︎ ♍︎♋︎■︎■︎□︎⧫︎ ❒︎♓︎⬧︎🙵 ⧫︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎📬︎”

“📬︎📬︎📬︎👎︎□︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ❍︎♏︎♋︎■︎ ⬥︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬧︎♋︎⍓︎📪︎ ♌︎❒︎□︎⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎✍︎”

“✋︎ ♎︎□︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎ ⬧︎♏︎♏︎ ⬥︎♒︎⍓︎ ✋︎ ♎︎□︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎📬︎”

Pomni stood up from her form, walking back to her fellow freaks, hand rubbing her arms, looking down-- she stared at the brothers for a moment like everyone else did, not only did she sense how eerie the sight was, but she also couldn't help but feel a strange form of self-blame for the situation. Pomni, what the hell did you do this time? 

“ Oh." Jax wheezed. " If I were you, I’d kill myself. “

" Ragatha said to shut up." Kinger piped in, and Jax turned to Ragatha already on her way to write down a string of text. 

" What! Tell me Im wrong, dollface. “

Ragatha rolled her eyes before turning to Pomni, slumping her shoulders and bending her knees to give her a note. “Caine said you were ‘off limits’. So I think you're safe for now at least." 

" And… what does it mean if Im… not off limits?” Pomni stammered.

Ragatha stayed quiet and turned to Kinger, not needing to sign her next words.

“ Then you'll be just like the rest of us. “

“⚐︎♒︎ ♍︎□︎❍︎♏︎ ■︎□︎⬥︎📪︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♌︎♋︎❒︎♏︎●︎⍓︎ ⬧︎◻︎♏︎■︎♎︎ ⧫︎♓︎❍︎♏︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ❍︎♏︎📪︎ ♋︎■︎⍓︎❍︎□︎❒︎♏︎✏︎”

“❄︎♒︎♏︎ ♋︎◆︎♎︎♓︎♏︎■︎♍︎♏︎ ⧫︎♋︎🙵♏︎ ◻︎❒︎♓︎□︎❒︎♓︎⧫︎⍓︎ □︎♐︎♍︎□︎◆︎❒︎⬧︎♏︎📬︎ ✋︎⧫︎⬧︎ □︎◆︎❒︎ ⬧︎□︎●︎♏︎ ◻︎◆︎❒︎◻︎□︎⬧︎♏︎📬︎ “

“☟︎♋︎❖︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♐︎□︎❒︎♑︎□︎⧫︎⧫︎♏︎■︎ ♋︎♌︎□︎◆︎⧫︎ ♐︎♋︎❍︎♓︎●︎⍓︎✍︎ ❄︎♒︎♏︎ ❖︎♏︎❒︎⍓︎ ♋︎♓︎ ⬥︎♒︎□︎ॐ︎⬧︎ ♌︎♏︎♏︎■︎ ♒︎♏︎❒︎♏︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬧︎♓︎■︎♍︎♏︎ ♍︎□︎■︎♍︎♏︎◻︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎✍︎”

“⬥︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ □︎■︎ ♋︎♌︎□︎◆︎⧫︎✍︎ ✡︎□︎◆︎❒︎ॐ︎♏︎ ♋︎♍︎⧫︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ●︎���︎🙵♏︎ ♋︎ ♍︎♒︎♓︎●︎♎︎📬︎”

“☹︎♏︎⧫︎ ❍︎♏︎ ◻︎●︎♋︎⍓︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♎︎□︎●︎●︎📬︎”

“■︎□︎📬︎ “

The brothers looked distracted. Jax was first to try and see if he could escape the situation, but he was interrupted when Caine pointed his finger at him, forcefully grabbed him by his neck, and set him back to his original position. His eyes never left his brother’s yet they were still all too aware of their surroundings. 

Pomni swallowed…Off limits ...Off limits he says. She knows she should be safe. And so, Pomni took a breath and exhaled.

She’ll be fine. 

She'll be fine.

She's fine. 

Shes—

“ Fine." The sound of a cane tapped on the floor, almost spiteful. " You can use her.”

What!?

" What!? “

The rest of the freaks felt their hair stand up again. Although Caine kept his calm tone of voice, that didn't reassure the others all that much. That kind of quiet anger was familiar. Caine being convinced to change his mind was not something that often happened. 

When all was said and all was done, Ragatha sighed, and turned back to Pomni, finishing off a note she's been writing. “Don't worry. Able is much more pleasant to be around. You're in safe hands. “

“ I sure hope so. His hands are very big!" Kinger piped up. 

Pomni was practically shaking in her heeled boots, the wood of her skin making clicking sounds as she did. Pomni doesn't exactly trust the situation at all, let alone the brothers, and to be alone with someone related to Caine didn't sound the most safe. 

Ragatha frowned seeing she was not convinced, and went back to writing. “ If It makes you feel any better, I feel a lot worse for Gangle than I am for you. “

They turn to Gangle, whose tragedy mask was on the floor weeping and in tears upon being chosen by Caine, while her happier counterpart horrendously verbally abused her from above.

For a moment Pomni laughed from the humor, despite the terrible context… but it was quickly interrupted by a gasp as she was suspended from the ground again and closer to the head of cards.

“ Hello, doll. Last chance to say goodbye to your friends! " Able said in an almost sing-songy voice.

Pomni, in fact, did not say goodbye, rather just stood there, like a plank of wood, frozen in fear. She gulped.

Able continued. “ ...Or stand in silence. That's okay too." The humans stared at the two as they went higher in the air. Able waved with all four fingers. “ We'll be off! Thank you for your company." 

Caine was silent. But Pomni swore she could feel his eyes tracking her as she disappeared. 

Snap!

Blip! 

Pomni gasped as if her head had been forced underwater for the past 6 hours.

She would open her eyes, wide, before turning them in confusion. Her gasps followed suit as they lessened.

“ Huh!?… Where-… What!? “

She didn't know what she was expecting but it was certainly not this. Pomni woke up in a bed much more luxurious than what she was used to, and a room much bigger than the one at the circus. The room was rather well-kept. Clean. A standard good but a comfortable one. 

Whatever injuries Pomni had back in the freakshow were no longer there, little scratches or dents, dusts in certain crevices… disappeared. Almost like she had just been born yesterday.

Pomni climbed off the bed which was-- admitted a little too tall for her, and went to search around.

*(A closet made of fine wood)

> Check

Upon sliding the closet door open, Pomni would see… an assortment of clothing… but not just any clothing. A set of six mannequins shaped like the other performers lined up… 

Pomni would see the one for Ragatha with an eye patch as well as a note…

 “ *Greetings, Ragdoll! I recall you saying it bothered you to have two eyes again. I cannot change your form, but I hope this will suffice.   -Able AI “ +2 armor

Kinger had a robe on his mannequin. “ * Clothing fit for a king… and to keep you warm.    - Able AI “ +8 armor

Zooble had knuckles on theirs. “ * If you ask me, you certainly don't need this. And no, you cannot bring it back home to use it on your rabbit friend.    - Able AI “ +6 Attack

And plenty more! Pomni supposed she wasn't the first one to come here… that explains the scratches on the door. 

*(Take items?)

   > Yes

   > No

   > Yes

*(Trick question! Those aren't for you, silly!)

Pomni would turn her head to the corner of the closet, the mannequin right next to Zooble, the last member who came before her.

The mannequin for her was seemingly empty until she looked down… hers were ballet shoes. White with golden balls in the middle. The note reads: “ *Salutations, Pomni.  I've heard all about you from the Audience but I haven't met you myself. I hope we can be comfortable in each other's company. My brother seems pleased with your performance.    -Able AI“ +5 speed

*(Equip Ballet Shoes?)

    > Yes

    > No

    > Yes

*(Equipped Ballet shoes! Your speed has increased.)

Pomni opened the door and peeked her head out first. The hallway was quiet… but the decor was noticeably a lot more Victorian… 

Huh. Pomni suspects that this would feel right at home for the brothers.

Anyways, this freaked her out.

Pomni walked down the halls with knees faced with each other. This was a new area in the game that she didn't know about— her eyes scanned every corner, a misplaced brick, levers she dared not switch, she didn't know where the traps were in this area.

A hallway of doors… She wonders… is it possible that this place could hold on exit from the game? 

She opened one and read the sign… “ Caine AI's first attempt on room generation.", and it was… contrasting. It was colorful. Low polygon, looks like a room more fit for an early PC desktop game… 

…Caine? Caine made that? No shot. She feels like if she asked him, her limbs would be used for the next chimney fire. 

Music rang in her ears. Pomni would recall that, around Caine, she would hear the motif and sounds of an organ and a violin… but here, in his brother’s world… It was only a violin… Pomni followed the sound, and it got louder and louder as she approached the door at the end of the hallway.

Click!

Pomni would meet an old Victorian living room. Warm fire with a warm chair next to it… but what would catch Pomni’s attention was the head of cards playing his violin, dancing along to the tune, turned to an empty organ as if he played one half of a duet. 

He hadn't even paused, simply looked at her as he continued to play. “ Slept well, doll? “

“ Uhh-" 

“Good. I don't believe we've met. You may call me Able. “

" U-Uhm my name is-”

" I don't care. “ a harsh sound on the violin before Able placed it down on a stand right next to the organ. “I see you've found your shoes. Hopefully, it'll help you for tonight’s festivities."

" T-Tonight's festivities? Sorry, I-Im… new to this kind of thing? “

“ The games, ofcourse.” Able clasped his hands together and floated towards Pomni, “ I used to tend to these sorts of events with my brother, so I'm fairly familiar… consider this like old times.”

Pomni frowned, looking away. Able wasn't as nice as how the others described him to be. At the very least he wasn't torturing her yet, which…she supposed… was a step up from when she first met Caine… 

“ You must be hungry."

“ I haven't been hungry since-" 

Snap!

Swirls replaced her irises. She put her hand out for balance and the first thing she felt was the fabric of a tablecloth. She would blink and snap out of her haze to realize that she was sitting at the opposite end of a long dining table. 

Able sat on the other end, hands under his chin as he observed the new guest. 

“U-uh… '' Pomni would look at him before her eyes trailed down, and would notice a digital feast on the table before her. '' O-Oh Im not… really.. hung… " 

Pomni had a double take.

The food looked… Strangely realistic.

Ever since she arrived at the Digital Circus, Pomni had only the very limited polygonal sort of food, either prepared by their head bubble chef, or a cruel sort of joke from Caine to eat other members.

But this… 

Her stare continued to widen. She didn't realise it but her eyes watered. She hasn't seen this kind of food since… 

Able watched her pick at the chicken with her gloved fingers. The way she pulled back and flicked her wrist when she realized that the food had temperature built into it— it must have hurt, but somehow that made it more desirable for her.

Improper.

Able continued to stare as she practically scarfed down her meal… he couldn't help but roll his eyes while she wasn't looking.  The others weren’t any different, but he expected better from someone his brother would fight him over… Able has known Caine for the longest time and he knows his overall taste is different from his. But this? This was the thing he was protecting? …He felt rather insulted honestly!

“ Do you still eat in the circus?"

“ Hm?" Pomni muffled a reply, a face and hand stuffed with all sorts of meat and delectables.

Able blinked, hiding his disgust.

The doll furrowed her brows in realization, as dread quickly hit her… oh god… she was told to behave around Able… oh dear fuck… oh fuck oh god… what is he gonna do to her? Did she fuck this up?

Oh god oh fuck.

Oh dear oh god fuck shit holy fuck oh my fuck shit ass bitch cunt fuck-

“ J... Just finish chewing."

“COOL." 

Pomni swallowed and continued to eat, now with a little more manners. Able sat ahead, his focus a little off from her, thinking to himself. Now what was he pondering? A way to murder her, she’s sure. 

*(Able sits at the opposite of you)

     > Talk

     > Say nothing

     >Talk

*(Talk about…)

     > Place

     > Food

     > Festivities

     > Caine

     > Nothing, Nevermind

     > Place

“W…Where.. Am I?”

Able turned back to Pomni as if he’d snapped out of his thoughts. “ You’re in the testing facility. This is where Caine and I used to pretest code and projects before using them for the circus. It used to be a lot more abstract and plain. But over time it changed due to… uhm..” Able’s brows furrowed “... I don’t know exactly. It just did…. We never questioned it.”

Able shrugged. “It's smaller than it looks. For example, my brother and I don’t have bedrooms. The dining table wasn’t made until recently. Unlike you and your friends, my brother and I are much more low maintenance.”

*(Talk about…)

     > Food

     > Festivities

     > Caine

     > Nothing, Nevermind

    > Food

“ How did you .. what…?”

“My programming is a little more advanced than my brother’s. I’ve mastered texturing, modelling, character effects… and plenty more. I played a hand in why you bleed, why you have working skeletons, or how organs can spill out of your body. My brother can make his food, but it’s a little more basic… I don’t blame him. He is maintaining an entire Circus after all. Sometimes his cooking is even edible!”

 *(Talk about…)

     > Festivities

     > Caine

     > Nothing, Nevermind

     > Caine

“ Uhm... You and Caine… You’re brothers?”

Able Chuckled. “ Believe it or not, Caine is the older brother of us two. I was created to perfect his imperfections, though that sadly made it so I was given more of the credit. ” Able paused and turned his head to the side. “ … Rarely does he visit the facility anymore. What I would do to play a song with him again.” he chuckled. “ But I suppose being a nuisance to him is just as fun!”

*(Talk about…)

     > Festivities

     > Nothing, Nevermind

     > Festivities

“ I think you chose the wrong person here for that kind of theme…” Pomni said nervously, wiping away the remaining food from her lips. “ I’m… not exactly an artsy kind of person, I’m more into-- maths?”

“ Art is a very broad term. I’m more familiar with the classical, meaningful, way of art, while my brother sees art in a sort of entertainment kind of sense. It only makes sense that he chose Gangle. I heard she can be quite the artist.” Able found himself rambling. It seems the brothers seemed to have a thing for creativity. Creative AIs, Pomni supposed. “ -- Which is why I chose you, doll,”

Pomni flinched when Able pointed his digit at her.

“A ballerina with a way of dance. You seem to be around my likeness… My brother likes your work and I… trust his judgement.” 

“ Uh, haha... “ Pomni laughed nervously. She hadn’t cared about her performance in the artistic sense in all honesty. It was more of a survival mechanism. If it's good enough to please The Audience, It was good enough for her. Nothing behind it at all. “Thanks, I guess…”

“ How about you? What are your thoughts on my brother?”

Pomni took a breath in her mind. Pomni has nothing but bad experiences with Caine. Pomni has had nothing but bad experiences in the Circus in general, but admittedly, Caine was the one who manifested it all.

…But she doesn’t exactly think Able would be pleased to hear gossip about his brother. 

“ Caine’s fine. He’s… nice, uh…” Pomni bit her lip. Wow, there really is nothing good she can say about Caine huh? 

She would stop it there, but the eye squint and the small head turn from the usually unemotive brother sent her into a sort of panic…

“ He’s a good ringleader! Doesn’t take no for an answer. He’s really good at, uh… keeping us disciplined and in check?” if someone could hear inner monologue they would go deaf.  The look in his eyes-- what does he want her to say?? 

Pomni would look up to see if her answers satisfied the blue brother’s curiosity. And in her horror, it seemed that it didn’t. He furrowed his brows and Pomni would hear the sharp note from a violin.

“ I suppose I should word myself better…” 

Able put his hands on the table and stood up, making himself feel bigger compared to Pomni’s slouching form. 

“ What. Is your relationship. With. My. Brother.” His eyes stared at her, wider than ever as the eeriest and deafening sound of an angry violin stung her ears!

“ I -” Pomni flinched!

“ You. You specifically.”

The way the strings pierced her hearing was violating! Pomni felt like the legs of the dining chair were getting longer and longer. If she got off she’s afraid she’d fall to her death! 

Able stared at the little, pathetic thing under him. This can’t be it is it? She was ever so small in comparison, he felt like he could just reach over and crush her to death. This?? This is what he was losing to?? This is what his relationship was worth?! His eyes were as fixated as ever. He watched as she held her head down, her ears, he laid clueless to how loud his presence was when she was positive that her head was just about to explode…

“ t--’ ah!” Pomni covered her ears. At that point, she was bringing her knees to her chest like a turtle taking shelter in her shell!

Look at her! Whimpering simply being in his presence! Her lifespan could only last for however long the audience wants her but he’s been created since the beginning! She was less than them! She was less than him! Caine and Able have been completing each other for the longest of time, and he was losing to THIS?!

He couldn’t take his eyes off her, he couldn’t believe how pathetic she was. The way she cried and cowered, At the very least his brother deserves better!

“ He’s just our ringmaster, I promise!” Pomni gasped as the ringing forced itself into her ears. “  I-If you want the full answer-- Im new! I’m new here! I don't know Caine as much as the rest do! I d-don’t even see him often-- he just prepares us for shows! I-- ”

He doesn’t know what took over him to have such emotions. The real Able was known to be the calm and collected one of the brothers, ‘the better brother’. He will say that he didn't mean to lash out, but he would be lying if he said he didn't mean every word. 

And as quickly as it came, the storm ended, and the tune that played in Pomni’s head left in a repeating fade… she breathes, small panicked breaths as her headache calmed down. 

Able sat down, back leaned to the chair, knuckles on his would-be cheek, and his other hand beckoning her to keep talking. “... And?" 

" A-And uhm—!” Pomni kept her head up to talk like her life depended on it." He- He… when.. when my routines get repetitive he would help me d-..do different ones… He plays the organ sometimes too and is-is really good at it! “

Able look at her, still with a face of disbelief…  at this point he was almost over it… 

Was that really it? 

Able sighed and sat back. Sometimes he overestimates his brother's taste. Perhaps he's much more simple-minded than he thought. For all he knows he just liked her because… 

Because… 

Oh heavens how embarrassing. 

He liked her like a pet…Of course he did. And he was treating her like a pet as well! Look at how clean she was compared to the other performers!

Able put a hand on his face… he really just lost his temper to what was equivalent to a dog… 

As Able was once again thinking of himself, he was a little blind to Pomni still trying to calm down in her chair… 

The doll didn't know what to think. Able was definitely not as kind as her friends lead her to believe. She was correct in the worst way possible. In fact she would flinch at the sight of him. 

“... Are you okay?"

Silence from Pomni. And before she knew it he stood up from his seat again and approached her, walking to her side of the table and offering a piece of cloth to help her collect herself. 

“Apologies. I didn't mean to lash out like that. It wasn't my place."

As Pomni used the cloth on her person, there was a part of her that somehow knew that apology wasn't exactly the most meaningful. Pomni may not be good at showing it, but the woman was a lot more observant than she'd like to admit. “... Its okay… “

“ Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

“ W-When can I… leave?" 

… that was rude, Able can admit. But he supposes it was fair. It took all of him to not roll his eyes at her. Before he continued to speak he returned his nurturing tone of voice: “ You may leave when we're prepared to tackle tonight. If it makes you feel better, you may have some time to gather in your room to prepare. “

“ Excuse me." As soon as the offer was given, Pomni got up from the table a little too suddenly than what was normal. Without even saying goodbye, Pomni walked off, and back to the hallway towards her door.

The moment she was gone, Able scowled and sighed. What kind of person taught her manners? He sat back down and stared at the plates of food she managed to scarf down in such a short amount of time… 

he put his hand on his face… Oh he really let his ego get the best of him because of some pet…he upset his brother's toy the first time they met… he had to make up for it. Maybe not for her but for his brother’s comfort, though, he doubts he'd really care. 

For the rest of the evening, Able spoke softly, respected boundaries and acted to be the most patient mentor for Pomni. He let her use his violin, insisted on food and breaks, and apologised at every step of the way for their terrible first impression. Pomni would only answer with a quick “it's okay" in response, which bothered Able to not be reciprocated… 

Pomni’s hypervigilance wasn't unfounded however. She knew Able was playing nice, the way she searched for a reaction for every apology, the way he was being just a little too affectionate, the love bombing… Able wasn't being honest with his intentions and so she wouldn't be honest about herself. 

Pomni felt a little better to say no to him at least…in fact, she would almost take the opportunity to use him to get more information. On breaks, Able would allow Pomni to walk around the Manor, exploring each room… it was a testing area… there's bound to be something… 

“There are no traps."

Pomni sighed.

" I think.”

" You think??”

" Some strings of code can be a little unstable. We didn't think to safety-proof anything since, well, we cannot die, and you were not meant to die. “

Great.. 

And Able wasn't lying. A lot of the doors were prank-boxing glove punches to the face, one was of a spinning carousel, and one was the bathroom of a very clean mannequin. Pomni almost lost her life with on the last one.

But it seems doors further away looked a lot more… abstract in the most literal sense. Polygons, shapes, colourful pieces… presumably one of the oldest doors there. 

she would read the signs 

“ Concept Layouts for The Grounds #2 

          || Note: consider more coloring options for the tent.    -Able AI”

“ Moon.AI Beta 

         ||Note: Im unsure with whats wrong with her, I desperately need assistance.    -Caine AI”

" The VOID (Do not enter)”

The sign didn't stop her. The moment she opened the door, she became mesmerised by the sea of pixels, eyes shaken yet still. She stood there frozen at the doorway hand on the knob unable to pry her eyes away…

Her heart was just about to leave her chest, as the strongest urge to step forward ingulfed her body. for all she knows she would be staring for forever. Into oblivion. With all her built up insanity, it feels like Pomni was staring at her death a million times over. 

Slam!

“ Digital World Etiquette! Read the sign! Hasn't Caine told you not to enter the void?" 

It took her a moment to snap out, but with a few blinks, she was right back. " Uhh.. yeah, yeah, he did uh— it's just… it's the closest I've ever gotten out of here. “

“ Out of here?"

“ Y… you know… an exit? Is there really no exit around here?" 

" Hm… “ Able scratched the bottom of his cards. “ My brother tried. He really did try. But there is only so much a string of code can do in a digital plain, even if we are quite brilliant at what we do. “

“ He tried?" 

" Oh, yes. I don't remember why he did… but he did. It is all too fuzzy." 

" Can I see it? “

" And embarass him? “ Able laughed " Oh no. Caine hates when people toy around his unfinished work, and its been unfinished for the longest time. How would you feel if I asked to see your first drawing? He would murder me." Able chuckled.

" But-”

" Come, come. Break time is over." His big hand tapped her from behind, making her flinch and walk forward. “Lets go practice your routine again shall we? “

Although it wasn’t a flat ‘no’, something about that answer felt untrustworthy. She looked up at him and his many eyes, looking away when they stared back. Her legs walked stiff around the manor again. She’s grown used to it but not exactly comfortable. 

Pomni would go blind if this kept up. It took her all to not cover her eyes from the burning spotlight, It hurt her retinas but she was told to keep a straight and elegant posture after every show. The crowd was deafening the way they cheered for her, their voices, humanoid, but not exactly. Their cheers would haunt her nightmares, but it's what she clings to if she wishes to stay useful in the circus… 

She did it. She won.

She bowed to the crowd, arm held up by her temporary mentor, showing her off in pride. 

“ The Living Doll, my dear viewers! “

Only the tip of her shoes touched the ground as she stood from her position. In the corner of her eyes she would see Caine clapping, but it wasn't a slow clap by any means. To her surprise it wasn't at all upset. Rather he just clapped… and the familiar feeling of eyes tracking her every move returned.

On one hand, She hopes this means Gangle is spared from any punishment… on the other hand… why?

She didn't know why she had to ask herself that. She had a feeling.

Pomni closed her eyes, and the next thing she knew, she was in her room, being groomed by the mannequins after a hard day of performing.

A shakey sigh left her. Atleast the day was over. She scrunched up when an NPC wiped her face with a wet cloth. Although she was made of wood, she was not prone to a plush exterior. The mannequins groomed her well but admittedly they can get a little aggressive at times.

Most of her routine was finished however. She looked good as new. Simply just had her bow taken out as an NPC brushed her hair to prepare her for bed.

But then,

Creaak… The sound of the door. 

“ A moment alone." 

Pomni’s hair stood up upon hearing his voice. She heard a snap and the next thing she knew the NPCs fell to the ground like piles of rubble, seemingly no longer functioning. His voice was enough. She didn't bother to turn. Her eyes fixated to look at the mirror either as a freeze response or in denial of the situation…

Fully knowing that all NPCs were inactive at the time… a different pair of hands started brushing her hair. 

Pomni swallowed.

Caine hasn't felt her hair himself the whole time she’s been in the circus. He would never usually put himself in the dirty work of a groomer, but that day… he was feeling especially clingy. 

For the next few minutes, nothing but the sound of the hair brush filled the room. Pomni's eyes now trailed down, refusing to look at him even in the mirror, Though at the corner of her vision she would sense him occasionally turning up to look at her. She did not reciprocate. 

“ How was your visit?"

“ Good." Pomni frowned.

“ …What were you doing? Did he treat you well? “

What was it with the brothers and asking her how she felt about them? Oh well. She learned her lesson. “ Able was a great host. He fed me good food and was really patient. He has a way with words and is really good at the violin… he was, uh…classy. And treated me really politely. He even—”

" Stop. “ 

The brushing stopped, 

" Thats enough.” Caine could break the comb with how tight he was holding it. Stop. Stop praising him like everyone else did. He didn't like when his name escaped her lips. He loathed the idea of her spending time with him, getting to know him, adoring him just like everyone else he knew.

Various intrusive thoughts entered his mind. He could pull out all her hair right then, crush her head between his teeth, he didn't know he was capable of such strong emotions until moments like these happened.

Yet it was all hidden in the shadows of his maw. Caine kept his head down, his eyes out of sight. Though that didn't stop Pomni from seeing his clenched fist on the poor comb.

That wasn't the answer he was looking for…?

“ Uhh! On second thought, his - his cooking was a little off… “ Pomni continued. “ I-I don't know what he thought humans liked--… but he was definitely off in his calculations... “

Silence from Caine… but she could sense his grip loosen. He tilted his head back up from his low gaze. 

" Mhm! I say your cooking is a little better! Its good--um- just harder to fully grasp, I guess, which isn't your fault. “

Caine continued to brush her hair. He could stay there for hours to hear her praise him and degrade his brother. It has been a while since he heard anyone criticise Able, and to hear it from the person he wanted from the most made him revel in the feeling.

“ And what is it with his over insistance to be so proper, right? It felt like even breathing was banned around him. “

“ That sounds like him.”Admittedly that one pleased Caine. Although Caine was all for following the rules, Sometimes his brother’s prudence can limit his creativity. He knows it all too well. 

" Was he always like this? “ Pomni asked. 

" And what would happen if I said yes? “

" Nothing. I guess its good to know that he was always that annoying. “

" Ha! “ That one caught him off guard! He put his hands on her shoulders, an olden man’s way of effection or showing pleasure. 

To Pomni it was as releiving as it was terrifying. Her body scrunched up from the sudden touch. “Haha… “ she laughed nervously. It was almost like she could feel herself gaining favor with each laugh. She guesses Caine really felt strongly about his brother. It wasn't her business. 

“ Im sorry to hear your visit was unpleasant. My brother really should have known better." Caine put away the comb on her vanity, and kept his hands on her shoulders. He didn't sound sorry. He didn't even bother to hide his pleasure over the idea. “ Ill make sure he doesn't get his grubby hands on you again… “

" Much appreciated. '' Pomni closed her eyes and nodded, pleased, before opening them back up again in a panic. “ Uh--! Actually, How about no? “

"... No? “

" I-I mean uh…” Pomni limiting her reach around the digital world also meant limiting her reach for a possible exit… but ofcourse, shes not telling Caine that " I-I just had ..so much fun performing for the audience with higher stakes, I guess, you know? Plus-- plus! It might make me more desireable to have big wins every now and then! “

“... I suppose." Caine thought to himself. Perhaps having her around Able a little more might build some resentment. Though Caine admittedly was a little disappointed with that answer. He went quiet again and kept his hands on her shoulders, though this time, a grip that's a little more stiff.

Pomni exhaled… 

shit… change the subject.

Pomni cleared her throat. “Did you… enjoy the performance? “

Caine laughed, a pity laugh. “ I enjoyed it as much as a person can enjoy a pre-planned game, yes. “

“ Huh?"

“ It was rigged, my dear." 

“ Oh…… … … … "

“ You wouldn't actually think I'd let you play fair on your first game would you? The audience would boo you to oblivion. “ Caine continued. 

Pomni looked down, admittedly a little embarrassed. She normally wouldn't care for her work as long as she gets to live another day, but still. Ouch. A blow to her ego.

“ It's alright. It's not your fault that Able can be tacky with his taste in art.” it seems that the more Pomni looked down the more affectionate he got. He placed his would-be chin on her head and continued to look at her eyes in the mirror. “I took control of your body 20…30...50% of the performance and that was that. “

“... Thanks." 

" You're welcome. “ Caine tapped her shoulders and stepped away, back into the air. He snapped his fingers and the mannequins previously on the floor re-assembled, back to walking and moving like nothing happened. 

Caine moved closer to the door.  “ Now get ready for bed! We have another routine to do first thing in the morning! How exciting.“

Before she could say anything else, Caine was out. Pomni let out little exhausted groans and put her forehead down on the table. “Augghh! God!" She put her hands on her head, just about ready to have her fourth mental breakdown. “ I can't… I CAN’T. I hate this place!”

The mannequins didn't know how to groom her in that position, and so they simply put her bow back on, and gave her a pat on the head. 

She stayed in that position for a little longer, quiet, just letting it all seep in. While she wallowed, the mannequins left her with the room since they finished their work. Now, it was only Pomni by herself.

She took a breath and turned her head up. Chin on the vanity, looking up at the mirror. She stared at the reflection, the constant reminder of her digital prison, and sighed.

It's okay, Pomni.

We have a plan. 

This isn't over yet. 

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Celebrating Wins

Word count: 942

Pairing: Lando norris x girlfriend!reader

Summary: As a new couple landos girlfrined celebrates his polepostion with with a playful, intimate evening, marking the start of their relationship

Request are open

______________________________________________________________

The excitement from the day still lingered as we made our way back to the hotel. The buzz of the crowd, the thrill of Lando securing pole position in Q3—it was all still fresh in our minds. But now, it was just us, away from the cameras and the noise, and I had something fun and a bit silly planned for our own private celebration. I couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves. We had only just gotten together, and this was my first chance to really show him how proud I was of him. I wanted to make the night special, something he’d remember—not just as a celebration of his pole position, but as a moment that marked the beginning of us.

As we stepped into our room, Lando immediately burst into laughter. I had covered the bed with orange and blue confetti—McLaren’s colors, of course. There were small, goofy trophies on the nightstand, the kind you’d find at a dollar store, with labels like “World’s Best Driver” and “Pole Position King” hastily scribbled on them in my handwriting. I’d even put out a cheesy plastic crown that said “Speed King” in glittery letters.

“Are you serious?” Lando asked, grinning from ear to ear as he picked up one of the trophies. “You really went all out, didn’t you?”

“Well, someone’s got to remind you how awesome you are,” I teased, reaching up to place the crown on his head. It was a bit too small, but he wore it proudly, striking a ridiculous pose.

“I feel like royalty,” he declared, holding out his hand for me to kiss, as if he were some kind of racing monarch.

Laughing, I took his hand and gave it an exaggerated, over-the-top kiss. “Your Majesty, the Speed King, shall we dine?”

He snorted, his eyes shining with amusement. “Lead the way, my loyal subject.”

We moved to the small table I’d set up near the window, where a simple dinner was waiting for us—nothing too heavy, just some of Lando’s favorite Italian dishes, including a massive bowl of pasta. I’d even ordered pizza, because who can resist pizza in Italy? And there, chilling in the ice bucket, was a bottle of his favorite champagne.

As we sat down, I grabbed a napkin and tucked it into his shirt collar like a bib. “Can’t have you getting pasta sauce on your royal robes,” I said, doing my best to keep a straight face.

Lando burst out laughing again. “You’re ridiculous! But I love it.”

We dug into the food, the atmosphere light and playful. Lando twirled his pasta dramatically, pretending to be a food critic as he took a bite. “Ah, yes, the perfect carbo-loading meal for a champion,” he said in a mock-serious tone.

“Only the best for you, your highness,” I replied, mimicking his tone.

As we finished eating, I brought out a small cake I’d hidden earlier. It was nothing fancy, just a simple cake with “Pole Position!” written in blue and orange icing, with a little toy car on top for good measure. I stuck a single sparkler in the middle and lit it, the tiny fireworks crackling and popping.

Lando’s face lit up with childlike glee as he watched the sparkler. “This is amazing. I didn’t think I could be this excited about cake.”

“Well, it’s not just any cake,” I said, grinning. “It’s the first of many celebrations this weekend, I hope.”

“Does this mean if I win tomorrow, I get another cake?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

“Oh, you bet,” I replied, slicing into the cake and handing him a piece. “And maybe I’ll even throw in a victory dance.”

He nearly choked on his cake from laughing so hard. “Please tell me you’re not serious about the dance.”

“I’m dead serious,” I said, trying to keep a straight face. “It’ll be legendary. You’ll win the race and I’ll be the talk of the paddock for my sweet moves.”

He shook his head, still laughing. “Now I’m even more motivated to win, just to see this ‘legendary’ dance.”

After we finished the cake, we collapsed onto the bed, both of us a little too full and a lot too happy. Lando was still wearing the plastic crown, and I couldn’t help but giggle every time I looked at him.

“You know,” he said, turning to me with a grin, “this has been the best celebration ever. No fancy dinners, no big parties—just us, being goofy.”

I leaned in, resting my head on his shoulder. “That’s because it’s real. And you deserve to enjoy every second of it, without any pressure.”

He wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close. “Thanks. I needed this. It’s easy to get caught up in everything, but tonight, I feel like I can just be me. With you.”

I reached up and took the crown off his head, placing it on mine. “Well, tomorrow, the Speed King is going to show everyone what he’s made of. And McLaren is going to be that much closer to winning it all.”

Lando grinned and leaned in to kiss me, his lips warm and soft against mine. “I couldn’t do it without you, you know. You make this all so much better.”

As the night wore on and we finally started to drift off to sleep, Lando whispered, “No matter what happens tomorrow, this is my favorite victory.”

I smiled, cuddling closer to him. “Mine too. But just so you know, I’m ready for another cake tomorrow.”

He chuckled softly. “You better start practicing that victory dance then.”

[wlntrsldler]

heartless | luke castellan

MDNI!!!!!!

fuckboy! luke (kinda) but also kind of loser!luke a little bit. enemies to lovers (more of sexual tension really); not canon, no betrayal, and pokes fun of aphrodite girls but yk i love them, this is just for the plot. ares!reader x luke castellan.

i. never need a bitch, i'm what a bitch need, tryna find the one that can fix me; i've been dodging death in the six-speed.

there were many things about being a half-blood that luke hated. having a deadbeat father ranks highly on the list, obviously, and the lack of exposure to the real world was up there, too. he ran away from camp once during the year when there weren’t many kids around. it was right after his eighteenth birthday when he thought that his life would magically change for the better now that he beat the odds (sue him for being hopeful), but when the clock hit midnight and he was still stuck on his cramped, cot in the corner of the hermes cabin, he decided enough was enough. 

he did his final cabin checks and left camp after, wandering aimlessly until he found the train station to take him straight to the city. he hopped over the turnstile and squeezed himself into the crowded subway car. the first thing that struck luke was how different each group of people was from each other. in one corner, there were businessmen in itchy suits, trying to check out the group of girls across from them, clearly dressed for a night out. luke scoffed at them, smirking to himself when one of the men flushed in embarrassment at the fact that luke caught him. 

what a fucking loser, luke thought. 

there was a girl around luke’s age, sneaking glances at him. she was pretty; blonde, pouty-lipped, and definitely interested. at this point, luke hadn’t been experienced. other than the aphrodite girls flirting with him and the occasional hazed and rushed makeout sessions during the campfires, luke hadn’t done anything with anyone. but if he can make the daughters of the goddess of love blush, surely it couldn’t be that difficult to make a mortal fall under his charm too. 

he was right. 

he shot her one of his signature smirks, feeling a sense of pride bloom in his chest when she had to grab onto the pole in front of her to keep steady. luke adjusted the navy sweater he had on, tugging on the collar a bit to show off a little skin. his silver necklace sat nicely on his neck and he watched subway girl’s eyes rake over his body. luke bit his bottom lip, motioning for the girl to take the empty seat beside him. her eyes widened, but she did what she was told. 

unfortunately, reality caught up with him quickly when a hellhound found him as he was exiting the subway car with the pretty girl (jessie? jane? janet? he doesn’t remember.) around his arm. luke castellan was a lot of things, but a killer wasn’t one of them, so he made some stupid excuse to the girl about why he had to leave just so he could keep her safe. (it killed him to do it. he’s a teenage boy. he has needs.) the girl walked away, upset, huffing to her friends about how he wasted her time and got her hopes up. luke just rolled his eyes and dislodged his small knife from his pocket sitting beside his half-smoked cigarette box, ready to take on the hellhound. 

“you couldn’t wait ‘til i at least got to second base?” luke cringed, partly at himself for talking to the hellhound like it could talk back to him. “had to show up right now, huh, buddy?” 

he received a growl in return. 

the fight wasn’t too terrible, but after the hellhound whimpered, walking away in defeat, luke was too tired to continue his exploration of the real world. he hopped on the train back to camp, clutching the scratch the hellhound left on him. his (only nice piece of clothing) navy sweater was ruined. the thread was falling apart where the hellhound dug its claws in and it was stained with his blood. he would’ve fought better and avoided the injury if his balls weren’t fucking blue. 

luke closed his eyes, breathing heavily. even though it was only for a few minutes, the idea of being a regular teenager, flirting with girls, going to clubs, drinking cheap tequila from a plastic bottle, was something luke yearned for. he only got to experience a fraction of it. he wanted to experience it more, preferably without testing death each time. 

the older kids heard of luke’s adventure when they saw the counselor walking into the apollo cabin the following morning to get his wounds treated. he made a note to never tell chris anything again because the boy couldn’t keep his mouth shut if he tried. by lunch, the entire camp, including chiron and mr. d, heard about luke’s unplanned visit to the city and his interaction with one of hades’ guards. 

“luke.” 

he turned around, eyebrows furrowed, then raised in surprise. in front of him were three aphrodite girls, pouting at him. he crossed his arms across his chest, smirking, “what’s up, gorgeous?” 

“heard you went looking for some fun last night.” 

“are we not good enough for you, luke?” 

“why would you go looking for better when you have the best right here in camp?” 

luke wanted to laugh. the aphrodite girls were always so bold with their words, but when it came down to the wire, they would never want to disappoint their mom by being with the golden boy-turned-teenage dirtbag. he respected it, though. their allegiance to their mom was admirable. if aphrodite was his godly parent and she gave him the power to always be attractive, he didn’t think he’d do anything to piss her off either. 

“why do you think i came back?” luke flirted, running a hand through his curls, “realized there was nobody like you.” 

the three girls blushed and giggled, even if none of them knew who his comment was actually directed toward. they waved goodbye to him, and he watched them walk away, admiring the view. 

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” 

luke couldn’t stop his lips from quirking upwards at the sound of your voice, “what now, y/n?” 

you and luke had been at each other’s throats since you first got to camp half-blood. you, as the daughter of ares, one of his favorites coming only second to clarisse, pushed luke’s buttons like no other. you walked into camp and immediately saw through his boy-next-door facade and saw him for who he truly was. usually, luke would hate you for it, but now, it was hard for him not to think about shutting you up in other ways. less friendly ways, but if he had his ways, just as harsh. 

the rivalry began when you were fourteen. the title of best swordsman bounced between the two of you over the years. luke currently has the title, but it was only because he cheated; he swears he’s just better, but there’s no universe where you’d actually admit luke castellan was better than you at something. the five seconds between you being chosen to be head counselor for the ares cabin and him being chosen as the head counselor for the hermes cabin were the best five seconds of your life. it was the only time you held a higher position than him. 

luke quite enjoyed your little banter (when you weren’t around to ruin his game). it only got better when he had his huge growth spurt and you could no longer reach things when he held it up over his head. when you didn’t talk and run your mouth (usually cursing at him or cursing him), luke thought you might even be cute. he loved making you turn red, even if it was out of pure anger over his antics, but his favorite is when he gets you tongue-tied because his dirty, teenage brain makes him say something before he thinks.

“there’s no way that actually worked on them.” 

“take a look for yourself,” luke motioned to the group of girls who were now whispering and shooting heart eyes at him. “it always works.” 

“oh, get your head out your ass, castellan,” you spat. 

“spitting is not going to get you the reaction you might think,” luke smirked, eyeing you up and down. your eyes widened and you looked away from him to hide the redness of your cheeks. like that. luke licked his lips, “might actually have the opposite effect on me.” 

“you’re disgusting.” 

luke let out a full belly laugh as you walked away from him. sure, there were some pretty shitty things about camp half-blood, but there were some pretty great things there too, and messing with you is on the top of his list. 

ii. hundred models gettin' faded in the compound, tryna love me but they never get a pulse down.

“do you guys always fight like this?” 

you and luke peeled your eyes away from each other at the sound of percy’s voice. the poor boy was looking between his two mentors, torn because he had no idea who to listen to. you sighed, walking over to him. 

you placed a hand on his shoulder, “sorry, percy. luke is just… forget it, let’s just try it one more time, yeah?” 

“luke is just what?” luke asked, an eyebrow raised in a challenge. “finish your sentence, y/n. c’mon.” 

“the words i’d like to use wouldn’t be appropriate for a twelve-year-old to hear.” 

“‘m from new york, i probably heard it already,” percy shrugged, pausing. “come to think of it, i probably used it before.” 

luke let out a chuckle, patting percy on the back. “my man.” 

“can you not encourage cussing, head counselor?” 

“fine, i guess you’re just gonna have to tell me what you were going to say later. in private.” 

“castellan,” you smacked his chest. hard. you were furious with luke, but you couldn’t help but flush at his suggestive words, “don’t start.” 

percy frowned, “i don’t get it.” 

luke took mercy on you and wrapped an arm around the boy. he led percy away, promising to continue working on his sword skills later after capture the flag. before they disappeared from your view, luke made sure to turn around to shoot you a wink. you flipped him off in return. 

it wasn’t always like this between you and luke. once upon a time, your banters were innocent, like kids fighting over the last piece of candy in the jar. luke literally used to pull your hair when he was behind you in the line for food and you used to stick your foot out to trip him when he was playing tag with his siblings. 

but then, he returned from his quest. at first, you felt bad for him. he came back unable to complete it, and he was permanently scarred from it. it must’ve been difficult to have that constant reminder. after a few months, though, when his scar was almost fully healed, the whispers about how attractive luke castellan was started. luke closed himself off after his quest and spent his time doing extra training. you could lie and say that all the extra workouts didn’t do wonders for him, but nobody would believe you anyway. 

in short, luke castellan got hot. he was no longer the pesky little boy you bantered with. he got taller, broader, and dirtier. you weren’t dumb, you knew the innuendos that he would throw at you. you were in the same sex ed class as he was in. (side note: mr. d teaching teenagers about sex ed was your own personal version of hell. tartarus be damned.) somehow, luke turned into a teenage heartthrob at camp and all of a sudden, all the girls were throwing themselves at him. it made you sick, but what made you more sick, was that you understood why. 

ever since luke’s confidence skyrocketed and he leaned into his bad boy persona, there was a different charge in your banter; as if instead of trying to push your buttons, now, he was trying to get you under him. from blowing his cigarette smoke directly into your direction to all his dirty comments, luke castellan was acting like he wanted you. and surprisingly, you didn’t stop him. 

“can y’all just fuck already?” you spun around to find clarisse leaning against a tree, her spear mounted on the floor. she had a teasing smile on her lips, “maybe once you hate-fuck, you guys will get it out your systems.” 

“ew, castellan?” you sneered. your nose scrunched up in disgust, though your stomach churned at the thought of it. “never in a million years.” 

“dude, the sexual tension between you guys is insane,” she shrugged, walking over to you. “come on, sis, you can’t pretend like you don’t feel it.” 

“i feel a lot of things for luke castellan, but wanting to fuck him is not one of them.” 

you’re a liar. you knew that. clarisse knew that. but you’re thankful that your sister didn’t call you out on your bullshit. 

she laughed, “whatever you say. now, ready to train me?” 

you spun your sword around expertly, “always.” 

this week’s game of capture the flag was eventful. you lost, much to your dismay, but the results of the game were overshadowed by poseidon claiming percy as his kid. the subject of forbidden kids were a touchy subject, for obvious reasons, but you knew that it was especially hard for luke. you didn’t know thalia well, but with how often annabeth talked about her, you felt like you knew her. 

luke never talked about thalia, though. you figured it was because it was too painful for him to think about. he knew her longer than annabeth did and his memories of her were much more vivid than the young girl’s. with percy being poseidon’s kid, you knew that it was bound to bring up some unwanted memories for the hermes counselor. but what shocked you was seeing luke sitting with his siblings at the campfire instead of being surrounded by fawning girls like he usually was. whenever his team won, he would bask in the glory of the win, shotgunning smoke into the mouth of whoever was closest to him before disappearing for a bit only to come back with marks all over his neck. 

but tonight, he was sitting next to chris, a beer can in his hand, staring directly at you. the red cup in your hand filled with mysterious liquor was cold to the touch. clarisse was trying to hide the smile on her face as she watched you and luke lock eyes. she mumbled a fake excuse, running away to leave you alone while she tried to find silena. luke chugged the rest of his beer before crushing the can in his hand and walking over to you. 

you stood your ground, feet planted on the floor, with your arms folded across your chest. “no celebration tonight castellan?” 

“not unless you want to celebrate with me,” he replied. 

“shut the fuck up,” you sighed. 

luke watched as your arms pushed your tits up your chest. he couldn’t stop himself from biting his lip, watching your chest rise and fall as you took your breaths. he was almost tempted to burn his toast tomorrow morning just to thank the gods that you decided to wear a low-cut shirt tonight. your camp necklace was resting on top of your tits and he wanted to reach over and count the beads on your necklace. four, just one less than he has. 

“i love that you’re a sore loser,” he said, pulling out the cigarette that was tucked behind his ear. “makes it so easy to mess with you.” 

“‘m not a sore loser,” you argued, absentmindedly pulling out the lighter in your pocket. 

he was surprised by your actions. he knew you smoked, but you’d never smoked with him before. he pulled out a cigarette for you which you gladly took. you lit yours first then leaned over for him to light his own. luke shook his head, bringing up his index finger for you to come closer. he lit his cigarette with the burning end of yours, humming in appreciation when the nicotine hit his senses. 

“you are,” he blew out the smoke, “but it’s adorable.” 

“flirting with me isn’t gonna get you very far, castellan. you should know this by now.” 

“what, you want me to be mean to you?” luke said it teasingly, but then he saw your shoulders freeze for a millisecond. he chuckled, darkly, voice dropping an octave when he spoke again. “holy shit, you’re into that.” 

“none of your fucking business,” you shook your head, thankful that you had at least one substance already in your system to keep you from turning red. 

“it’s hot, y/n, own it,” he shrugged his shoulders, turning a bit to face the rest of the campers. all of the younger kids were off in their own world. they knew better than to hang out with the older kids at these things. he had a cocky smile on his face when he turned to you again, “i can be mean, if you want, y’know. just say the word.” 

you downed the drink, needing some sort of liquid courage if you were going to keep this conversation going. clarisse and silena were watching you and luke a few feet away and you can tell by their faces that they weren’t going to come save you from the conversation even if you begged them to. “that kind defeats the purpose, no?” 

“what do you mean?” 

you wiped the drop of liquor away from the corner of your lips, “having to ask you to be mean. you should just be mean without me asking.” 

luke’s eyes darkened. sure, he flirted with you, but you never kept up with him before. you usually tell him to fuck off and walk away, leaving him with a head full of images of your red, embarrassed face, to keep him occupied at night. “noted.” 

you shoved the empty cup into his chest, taking a puff out of your cigarette before walking away, “no need to take notes, castellan. i know you’re all talk anyway.” 

iii. 'cause i'm heartless and i'm back to my ways 'cause i'm heartless.

luke was pissed. you can tell by the way his shoulders were tense. you just disarmed him during practice, the tip of your sword resting comfortably under his jaw. the title was yours again. 

“say you surrender,” you taunted, pushing the sword just a little deeper on his skin, but not enough to cause any damage, “say you surrender and i’ll let you leave with some dignity.” 

“this doesn’t count,” he replied, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “i was distracted.” 

and he was. you took your shirt off, leaving you in a sports bra, at around the third sparring session. the sun was beating down harshly on the both of you and the lack of a breeze in the air didn’t help. your chest was glistening with sweat and you were breathing heavily. luke took his eyes away from your moves for a second to look at your figure and you took advantage of it. 

“no excuses, castellan,” you lifted his face up with your sword, “surrender.” 

“fine,” he relented. he got up from his knees when you removed the sword from his jaw, “i surrender.” 

“good.” you twirled your sword in your hand, walking away from him to grab a sip of water. your back was turned and luke couldn’t help but let his eyes trail down the curve of your spine. your muscles were defined, no doubt due to the hours of sparring you just did, and your hair cascaded perfectly down when you pulled it out of the ponytail you had it in. he wanted to wrap it around his fist and pull it. 

“fuck,” he groaned, trying to push down his hardening cock in his cargo pants. the action didn’t do anything to help. it was no use. 

“what was that?” you tossed the bottle of water on the ground as you turned to face him. your eyes widened as you took in the image in front of you. luke was staring at you, lips slightly parted, hair in disarray as if he just ran his hand through it, and his pants were tight around his dick. “luke…” 

fuck it, he thought. 

“shut up.” 

luke marched over to you, grabbing your face with a force that knocked you off balance. it was disorienting feeling his lips hungrily over yours because it felt so damn good. his hands migrated from your face down to your ass, gripping it and massaging the flesh so he could push you closer to him. you could feel his hard cock poking against your skin and you moaned at the feeling. luke wanted to bottle the sound so he could listen to it whenever he wanted to. 

he pushed you against a tree, grinding his aching hips against yours. he could feel your wetness growing against his pants. he pulled away from your lips, turning your face to the side to give himself access to your neck. he licked a stripe up your jugular, mixing his saliva with the sweat on your skin. he started his attack on your neck, nipping, sucking, licking, everywhere he could. you couldn’t help but whimper at his actions. 

against your better judgment, you pulled him away by threading your fingers through his curls. his eyes were closed, mouth agape when he knocked his forehead against yours. you tugged on the hair by the nape of his neck, “you’re not fucking me, luke.” 

“fuck, okay,” he breathed out. he was horny, but he respected your wishes. 

“not today,” you placed a chaste kiss on his lips before pulling away. his lips followed yours, but you tutted, “but you can watch me if you let me watch you.” 

“yes,” his eyes snapped open, moving away from you to give you space. 

“come here,” you walked away from him, motioning him to come to the patch of grass secluded from the training area. he followed you, hissing as he tried to adjust himself in his pants. you lay on the grass, propping yourself up on your elbows. your hand slowly trailed down to your pants before you dipped your finger inside your underwear. your back arched as you felt how wet you were from the earlier interaction with luke. 

luke sat at your feet, undoing his pants. he pulled out his cock; red, dripping, and angry. he felt his confidence rise when you moaned at the sight of it. his veiny hand was wrapped at the base of his cock, slowly pumping. his voice was broken as he spoke, “let me see you.” 

for a moment, you were vulnerable, hesitating to expose everything to him. but luke’s face showed nothing but desire and you melted under his gaze. you shimmied out of your pants, tossing them somewhere near, before opening your legs for him to see you. your fingers pulled apart your folds, showing him your slick-covered pussy. 

“prettiest fucking pussy in the world,” he groaned, watching as you circled your clit. “fucking perfect, y/n.” 

his words spurred you on. you dipped two fingers inside, mewling at the stretch. luke flicked the tip of his dick, moaning at how your fingers disappeared as you pumped them inside you. he can hear your wetness loud and clear and he wanted nothing more than to slurp it up with his tongue, but he can be patient. this can be enough for now. 

his hand moved faster on his dick, the muscles on his arm tensing with each stroke. he watched as you threw your head back in pleasure, admiring the marks he left on your skin. a feeling of possessiveness bloomed in his chest knowing that he marked you. 

“want a taste?” 

luke nodded, crawling over to your outstretched fingers while still pumping his cock. his lips hollowed to suck off your juices from your fingers, eyes closing at the sweet taste. his tongue danced between your fingers, licking them clean. you watched in awe as he hungrily sucked off your fingers. there were beads of sweat trickling down the edge of his face, his curls were sticky on his forehead, and there was a look of pure bliss on his features. 

“so sweet,” he whispered, letting your fingers go with a pop. “fuck, y/n.” 

“luke,” you panted, continuing to get yourself off. “i’m close.” 

“give it to me,” he said. his voice was nearly gone. “need it.” 

there was something about luke castellan begging you to cum for him that made your head spin. you came, hard, all over your fingers while he watched you come undone. the image of you cumming, the whisper of his name leaving your lips, was going to be burned into his memory forever. 

“i’m coming,” luke groaned, the veins in his neck popping out as he gritted his teeth. “open up.” 

you moved closer to him, leaning down with your tongue out for him. he pumped his cock until white spurts covered your pink, patient tongue. he wanted to take a picture of you right now for later. eyes closed, makeup on your face ruined, hickeys on your neck on full display while his cum coated your tongue. you were a wet dream come to life. 

luke gripped blades of grass with his other hand, trying to steady himself as he watched you swallow his load. when you opened your eyes, you opened your mouth to show him you didn’t waste a drop, and luke couldn’t do anything else but kiss you to show his appreciation. 

you had avoided luke after your training session. you didn’t know what got into you doing that with him, but one thing was for sure, the tension didn’t disappear after it. it just got worse. 

everywhere you went, you felt his eyes following your every move. he would stare at you, eyes narrowed, during classes or during meals. but he never did anything. 

until he lost at capture the flag. you skipped the celebration, opting to stay alone in the ares cabin to avoid running into luke. the whole situation left you with so many questions that you were afraid to get the answer to. you fucked yourself in front of luke. and you liked it. there hasn’t been a day since when you didn’t think about his cock and how it would feel inside of you. it was getting pitiful how often you got off thinking about him. his sounds, his face when he came, his taste. everything. 

you were getting ready for bed when you heard the door of the ares cabin slam open. you turned your head, eyes widening, when you saw luke walking towards you, kicking the door shut. he didn’t break eye contact with you as he reached the foot of your bed. 

he licked his lips, “you’re avoiding me.” 

“i’m not,” you lied, tugging your blanket up to cover yourself. “was just too tired to celebrate.” 

“bullshit,” he ripped the blanket away from your body, “you want mean, right? i can give you mean.” 

you pushed your thighs together, making him smirk.

luke got on your bed, his knees on either side of you. he pushed his head into the crook of your neck, leaving rough kisses on your skin. your hands flew up to his hair, pulling softly, “my pretty girl won’t betray me.” 

it took you a minute to realize that he wasn’t talking about you. his fingers rubbed on your clit over your pajama shorts, making you arch into him. you whimpered, “luke, please.” 

“nuh uh,” he pulled away from your neck, “you don’t get to say please, anymore. you’re gonna take my dick until i’m done.” 

luke connected your lips. his lips were relentless against yours, tongue forcing its way into your mouth. he groaned at the feeling of your hand reaching down to palm him. he grinded his hips into your hand, lips sloppily crashing against yours. luke put all his weight on one arm, using the other one to lightly wrap his fingers around your throat. he did an experimental squeeze, growing harder when you moaned in pleasure at the pressure. 

clothes were flying off both of your bodies after that. your pants drowned out the faint hum of the campers away at the campfire. luke pulled away from your lips, marking your neck again. the hickeys he left you were already fading and he hated not seeing the remnants of his time with you on your skin. he trailed the hickeys down your body, spending extra time on your plush thighs. he pried your legs open, sighing in content when your pussy welcomed his thick fingers. 

he pressed his tongue against your folds, closing his eyes at the sounds of pleasure that left your lips. his lips wrapped around your bud, sucking, until you were lifting your hips up. he placed an arm across your stomach, pressing down on you to keep you still. from where you were lying, you could only see his eyes. his eyes were boring into yours, watching your reaction to learn what you liked. when his tongue darted inside of you, touching that spongy part, your face contorted in unparalleled pressure and luke knew that he needed to keep hitting that spot. 

you were a mess under him. you’ve never came before unless it was your own doing, but you were dangerously close to the edge with how luke was eating your pussy. he was determined to have your wetness coat his tongue. he’d been dreaming of tasting you since you last let him. he’d been craving it. 

when your thighs pressed against the side of his head, he knew it was coming. he used his thumb to draw figure eights on your clit. you came with a cry, his name repeating off your lips like a mantra, like a prayer. 

luke pulled away from your pussy, wiping the wetness on his chin away with his forearm. he pumped his cock in his hand a few times, hissing at the pain of it being forgotten. 

“luke,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. you clung onto him like a lifeline. “give me a second.” 

he took in your state. all fucked out just from his tongue. his jaw ticked, “been givin’ you space for days, don’t think you deserve any more.”

“fuck!” you cried as his dick entered you. luke had to shut his eyes to keep himself from cumming. your pussy was so tight and so wet and so greedy for his cock. he pushed all the way in, stopping for a moment to catch his breath. 

“perfect fucking pussy, like i said,” luke’s voice was hoarse as he thrusted into you. his hand grabbed one of your tits, flicking the hardened bud with his fingers. he continued to snap his hips into you as he leaned down to your ear, “been thinking about fucking you dumb with my cock.” 

“been-ah- thinking about it too,” you admitted, cheeks growing red at his words. you were clawing at his back, no doubt leaving marks, “been touching myself thinking about you.” 

“looks like you’re the one who’s all talk, y/n,” he was going faster now, reveling in the sounds that your connected bodies were making with each push of his cock. reminders of your first orgasm were all over his base. “made me watch you fuck your perfect pussy, then-fuck- avoiding me.” 

“didn’t think you were serious with your words.” 

luke pulled out of you completely. you got a good look at him for the first time. his nostrils were flared, chest heaving as he pumped his cock in his hand. he made a noise, “seems like i’m not doing my job right.” 

you reached out for him, pussy tightening around nothing, “huh?” 

“you’re still being smart,” luke grabbed your hips then and turned you around. you arched your back for him, giving him a view of your ass. he rubbed his hands over the flesh, slapping it. he pushed your head down on your pillow, wrapping your messy hair around his fist. he leaned over to whisper in your ear, “told you, i wanted to fuck you dumb on my cock.” 

he thrusted into you with fervor, skin slapping as he took you from behind. luke watched as your ass bounced sinfully against him as he pushed his cock deeper into you. with this angle, he can can push into you more easily. he was on his knees, holding your hips flush against his body. the sounds you were making as his cock found your pussy were delicious. 

you were incoherent then, mumbling into your pillow, begging for him to keep going. luke wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon. when your second orgasm of the night came crashing down, you screamed luke’s name loudly. 

he came inside you, ropes of milky cum coating your gummy walls. he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily as he moved your hair away to place kisses on your back. 

when you both got dressed, luke left a lingering kiss on your raw lips. he left one last hickey on the side of your jaw, “training. tomorrow. don’t be late.” 

[gisele0127]

Can you do some blue lock scenario with a reader who very much needs glasses? Like reader is straight up walking in to poles, bumping into tables, squinting to read to tweets. They actually never took a drivers test because they couldn’t read road signs or the handbook for that matter🙄 The reader just lives life like this just cause. Like there is no reason for them to just not fail their eye test and get some glasses.

Blue lock boys: Rin, Sae, Barou, Kaiser, Yukimiya(💀), and anyone else you want to write for!!

notes: not proof read!! enjoy :)) THANKS FOR 700 FOLLOWERS GUYS, i’ll promise to feed y’all good when i get back home.🥹🥹

rin

after walking into another pole while you and him were walking down the street from his football practice he finally had enough.

“get some glasses or im breaking up with you”

you look up at him (all you can see is a blurry glob) confused because why would he say that?

“why’re you being mean? i don’t need glasses i’m fine.”

rin secretly liked that you were stubborn, but right now he’s more concerned. you kept on running into things, needed help with homework and schoolwork because you couldn’t see the board, and bumping into tables and such.

he flicks your forehead (specifically where there was a slight bruise forming), “i don’t like how you’re always running into things. it’s not safe.”

he tries to act nonchalant and like he doesn’t care, but deep down inside he’s afraid something bad will happen to you. he just wants you to be safe.

sae

“i don’t understand why you can’t just get glasses!”

it was the first time sae had ever raised his voice to you, or really in general around you. so what got him to this point? you two had just came back from the hospital because you fractured you ankle from tripping. sae had been getting annoyed by your carefreeness and this was the last thing he needed.

you look at him hurt by his tone, you’ve never seen the stoic man like this. you’re surprised he would even raise his voice at something like this.

he looks at you as if he’s done nothing wrong, keeping the same deadpan he always does. you roll your eyes and (try to) walk away until sae grabs your arm pulling you into his lap,

“don’t walk on your foot, you’re going to get even more hurt. and i said that because i don’t want you getting hurt again. what if i’m not there to save you?”

barou

he walks in the door after a tiring practice to some soup cooking in the kitchen. he smiles knowing you made it, and he grabs a spoon to get just a little taste while you arent looking. little does he know you accidentally put too much salt. spitting it out he says,

“holy fuck y/n. are you trying to give me a heart attack?!” he laughs after.

you look at him embarrassed because you tried to do something nice for him and it went terribly wrong.

he smiles looking at you and tenderly kissing your temple, “after my shower i’ll help you cook how does that sound?”

he sometimes finds your vision problems difficult but he never gets mad at you, he’s just a peace with your decisions to not get glasses. he never gets you for it :)

kaiser

“i set up an eye doctor appointment for you at 12:30 on tuesday by the way. it’s rest day so i’ll be able to drive you” he looks up at you while laying on your chest.

you stop playing with his hair and look confused. “what? why?”

“well love….how do i put this? i’m not your personal driver….and i’m tired of you being so stubborn” he says grinning while motioning for you to continue playing with his hair.

you roll your eyes and continue playing with his hair, you start thinking and you do feel kind of bad that your boyfriend has to drive you everywhere. sure he may be arrogant and cocky, but in reality he’s a lovesick man who only wants the best for you.

yukimiya

(if an ything the roles should be reversed💀)

“do you think our kid is going to be blind?” you innocently ask him one day while studying (mostly him telling you what the class is learning). he’s taken aback but composes himself and gives you a gentle smile.

“maybe.”

it’s a short and sweet answer, but he’s mostly thinking about he fact that you said ‘our kid’. this a sweet moment because you usually never say stuff like this. he gets up from his chair and motions you to come on the couch with him,

“but our child will definitely be wearing glasses, unlike you”. he says while sticking his tongue out.

notes part two: i’m sorry this took so long, i’ve been busy traveling all over! i hope it’s to your liking :) @crybabyyams thank you so muchh:))

[eluxcastar]

What are the Harbingers like while drunk?

── ୨୧：fatui harbingers x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: a night of drinking usually leads to a far more chaotic band of harbingers than usual, a horrible nightmare for everyone else involved considering their behaviour. it is not all terrible however, admittedly.

୨୧﹑genre :: some are a little fluffy it varies though

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, it is chaotic, columbina does touch reader like very publicly how far that goes is ambiguous, obviously consumption of alcohol

୨୧﹑words :: 1.9k

by this I actually mean how many drinks does it take for them to be all over you (optionally their s/o) which will find its answer, this includes every Harbinger because there is no grandpa discrimination in this household 🙏 requests will start getting posted again tomorrow

The youngest Harbinger is alright, but arguably one of the worst when it comes to how drunk he'll get and how quick. If being a massive casual flirt with you already doesn't help (which it does not), then getting a couple drinks in him can only make him worse. As if stealing all of his restraint and boundaries— possibly mistakable for sense of reason— it unlocks a secondary urge that somehow overtakes his need to fight everything that does or does not move. He can take you (not in a fight tho). A few drinks in, and you better take them away from him before he becomes too over-eager and starts on his quest to fight the other Harbingers once more. Usually, it's quite easy to get him to settle if you just tie him to the nearest pole and leave him for a while to get through his fight with a rope first.

Arlecchino is surprisingly good in this respect, though more so because it's hard to tell when she's drunk except for the fact that she speaks differently, more open with her feelings than when she's sober, and unabashedly will speak her mind in the same tone she usually speaks her insults unless it is to you. For some reason, her equally shameless words and advances always comes out something not like a question and a borderline nag to go with her somewhere—to her room, no doubt—down to outright admitting that she wants you. She barely leaves any room for your decline or contemplation when she's following you around all night like a lost, stray dog whimpering at your feet, and it's kind of cute. You won't go with her, though, because you know what she wants, so she'll just have to wait until you get to enjoy yourself a little at the very least. She's still so ridiculously cute asking with a straight face, however, especially once you manage to settle her to the point she falls asleep head on the table out like a light.

Unfortunately too used to drinking over business, Pantalone is tipsy at best as he's no stranger to drinking some ornate expensive wine after a long day of work, though the flush in his cheeks tells you he's at least a little gone. He rests his head on your shoulder without a word most of the time, perhaps purposefully gluing you to your place by his side so that you cannot be stolen away. He says he's not tired whenever you ask, and you don't doubt that somehow. He's got an added boisterous charm to his laugh, but his voice is low, and he stares at you through his lashes as he's coaxing you into drinking with him. Drink some more, loosen up, there's nothing to worry about. Of course, there's always something to worry about with him, never able to just let you be when he's drunk as he's a bit of a pest.

Insisting that you drink two glasses for her single finished one, Signora is far more focused on getting you drunk than herself. She holds drinks to your lips, practically forcing you to down them to get her to get off your back, all with an arm over your shoulders, keeping you from backing away. She's shockingly promiscuous in a way—though not explicitly—this night will just most definitely end with the two of you having drunkenly made out at least twice, and she's got a good amount of glasses of wine under her belt, as well as you stumbling and at your limit needing her help to find your bearings. Her chest is soft, of course you can use her as your pillow all you want, and of course she'll get you home safe.

An interesting case is the mysterious disappearance of Sandrone's stoic exterior, her usual abrasiveness replaced by a giggly and borderline childish self far more interested in finding something funny in everything and bothering you to carry her around, including back to her room— or yours. She's not picky. Only two drinks in, she behaves like she has never heard of subtlety in her life. Often she will question why you keep doing the things you do, especially if that happens to ruin all her fun, like pulling her away from Tartaglia so that she will stop teasing the poor boy, or to get her to stop loudly asking all of the details of the ins and outs of Scaramouche's workings when he's shifting in his seat trying to hide his discomfort behind his own abrasiveness. Eventually, you may have to carry her back to her room, if only to get her to go to bed and try to get all the rest she can before she wakes up the next morning hungover and miserable.

Scaramouche may only be a puppet, but his other functions seem to work just fine…it still surprises you that he manages to get drunk, much less that he starts getting overly emotional when he does and ends up crying over nothing until you manage to cheer him up as he buries his head in your chest. Apparently, he's just very happy to see you, despite you having been there all night, and he doesn't want you to go anywhere despite the fact you never had any intention of doing so yet. It's so strange but not unwelcome, just hard to get used to, though you let him loiter around you and cling a little. Every time you have to go somewhere, he's asking where you're going, and only when you provide a good enough answer does he stare a little before nodding slowly and resting his head on his arms for comfort, waiting for you to come back.

Over time you learned to stop getting Pulcinella drunk as it leads to him telling the same stories of his youth he's convinced beyond a doubt that you've never heard before. His earlier days in the Fatui are practically ingrained in your mind as you have little choice but to grin and bear it, hoping he doesn't notice that you're not really listening. Of course he notices, however, and in his usual exaggerated movements, taps your nose to draw your attention back, threatening to steal it if you don't pay attention. Youngsters these days is his usual grumble, and as always, you must remind him you are not, in fact, a 'youngster'. It is quieter, more intimate storytelling between the two of you, maybe only Pierro at your side interested in hearing all of this though you're pretty sure Pulcinella hasn't even noticed he's there considering he's so fixated on you and where your eyes are, anywhere but him and he's promptly drawing your attention right back.

Capitano holds his liquor so well you're a little worried for his liver, as the worst offence he manages is making a couple of bad jokes. Barely does he seem affected by it, but you wonder if managing to conceal his face well enough has anything to do with it or if he simply hasn't had anything to drink at all in the absence of any desire to take his helmet off just yet. Considering his demeanour has changed slightly, you're willing to bet the former. He is awfully touchy and forward in all of his advances, though his boldness would never overstep too far. He can hear a no and accept it, but by the time that helmet is resting on the table by his side and he's buried his face in his hands, far too drunk to reason with himself to keep it on, he does begin to get far closer than before with every word said just a half inch from your ear in a hushed tone and his arm around you so comfortably you may begin to forget it's even there.

Ever your biggest fan, Columbina wants you to do all sorts of things, not for any discernible reason. She just claims you're quite adorable. She absolutely must see the face you make after a kiss, and when someone touches your face, when you have your hair pulled and how flushed your face is when her hands travel down from your face toward your body. Of course, she will largely refrain from going too far in the presence of others, though she is touchy, almost like dangling off you, and most importantly, she is hopelessly convincing. Regardless of whether you told yourself at the start of the night that you would not hear a word of her requests, it began so slowly and spiralled so quickly that giving her just a little more leeway won't be too bad, right? It'll be fine to allow her to lay he head down on your chest and wrap her arms around you, continuing to speak to others all the while capturing all of your attention, and with how sleepy she sounds, you imagine you have hers as well with what little energy she has to spare still contributing to the conversation.

Dottore is usually such a butch that you initially thought getting him drunk would only make him bitchier, but one drink in and his experience with alcohol is showing. By the second, he claims to not want any more, and god forbid someone tries to convince him a third is a good idea because he will proceed to complain of feeling sick and deflate until he can leave. His second, however…his second has him talking shop, just not the way you thought it might. He's telling you about all these things that—while certainly not completely objectively interesting—have him genuinely smiling even just a little as he passionately explains the many things he has pursued solely based on whims and fixations. For a man who seldom speaks to anyone, drinks get him talking, and with no inclination to stop him, you sit and listen as he tells you about the ways his segments are made and how he went about discovering and acquiring the materials to do so. He wants you to come with him to his lab so he can show you these things, but with very little desire to allow him to accidentally ruin something of his while drunk, you quickly dissuade him from that and decide to take him elsewhere to let him cool off instead.

Conservative in his drinking in the first place, Pierro does not allow himself much freedom to relax in a setting where he has to watch everyone, at least at the start of the night when tensions are still high, and everyone is sensible enough to remember their quarrels with each other. as the night progresses, however, the small sips of his drink become more frequent, and his appearance follows suit, hair a bit dishevelled from the number of times he's touched it, clothing loosened to allow himself more room to breathe and hands often finding their way to you as he speaks, resting on your shoulder or on your thighs, fingers brushing against your cheek or thumb tracing your lips. to be honest you kind of like him like this, less reserved but restrained enough to be fighting his own resolve not to do something that may be too forward. You can tell in the way that resolve and the will to fight against his own wants slips away bit by bit, touches lasting longer, kisses first on your forehead finding their way to your lips and his arm, which had been resting on the table, finally around your waist as you both walk back to whichever of your respective rooms finds you first.

[msbarrybeeson]

In This Episode of "Mad Dogs Love Reader" : Mystic Library

A/N: This lowkey feels like crack-fiction. Then I remember the premise is the actual, released episode itself. I did my utmost trying to adhere with the characters' personalities when it came to non-canonical dialogue.

I am aware of your comments about my Donnie X Reader shots and feel really happy to hear them! After a year or so of not writing, though, I apologize for my rough return. I still love Rise of TMNT with my heart and hope to see a single glimpse of the show's possible continuation.

Constructive criticism is much appreciated! Especially for character-writing! Leave some comments about it if you will.

Summary: While searching for something to help your project, you found yourself jammed into a fiasco of a book find with the Mad Dogs in the Mystic Library.

Episode Base: Episode 20A "Mystic Library"

Implied Pairings: Rise! Donnie X Reader • Rise! Leo X Reader • Rise! Raph X Reader

Reader: Gender Neutral. Human.

Word Count: ~2070

➵ ➵ ➵

ECHO-O

CHOO

HOO

OO!

You whipped your head. "What the hell was that?" you muttered to yourself, cautious of the "Hush Bats" hanging from above.

Your hand flipped through pages of a book, yet nothing remarkable piqued you. You sighed. You needed to get a project done as soon as possible before you could hit the weekend concert in Central Park. "Where are all the books on the anatomy of frogs. . .?" You picked out another book, this time with a fish-like Yōkai on the cover page.

"What are they doing here?" Your ears perked at recognizing that coarse, scratchy voice. "Can't we enjoy a nice peaceful Sunday without those clowns showing up?"

April and the others showed up? Here?

"I got an idea," Foot Brute gestured a "knuckle-sandwich." "Since they're always messing up whatever we're doing, why don't we mess up whatever they're doing?"

Under their breaths, they snickered evilly.

You frowned. Not on my watch, bozos.

⇨ ⇨ ⇨

"Loom 16." Donnie slid, rocking into his rhythm as he busted out singing. "Take Corridor B. Down-the-stairs past the Ibis tapestry."

"Uhh. . . Donnie?" Raph whispered, feeling uneasy when even Leo decided to join in with his beatboxing. "We're still in the library." Yet his warning went ignored.

"Sliding bookcase after bookcase shows the way to the hall– up a pole through a hole to the waterfall." He rhymed with every line. Raph hushed him, "Keep it down Donnie!"

Aimlessly, Raph glimpsed up the library, careful of the Hush Bats. He did not want to be taken to the kiddie room. He was expecting one to come right out of the endless ceiling, flying straight for him and his ridiculously noisy brothers.

He heard nothing. He saw nothing. His back faced his brothers as Raph kept his eyes out for those bats. He quirked an "eyebrow" when the silence settled in.

"Gee Donnie. Didn't think you'd be the one to listen." Curious, the snapping turtle finally spun around to face his brothers.

What he truly did not expect was bumping right into Leo's shell. A relatively low "oomph" emitted. Now, he felt confused. "Guys?" Raph tried calling. "What's the big idea? Why are we stoppin' out of nowhere? We got Mayhem to save!" He glimpsed at his phone to April's frantic texts.

Looking back up, he noticed Leo wrapping his hands over Donnie's mouth. Their heads were blocking his view of something. Or rather, someone. Raph leaned his head to the side and found–.

"(Name)!?"

In a whisper, of course.

You would hope so.

He nearly yelled for the world to hear.

The Hush Bats above dilated their pupils in great suspicion.

From your end, you watched the wide-eyes and shocked looks plastered on their faces. Leo covering Donnie's mouth before he could scream at seeing you pop out of the blue. A deep fluster evident on Donnie's features. You did kind of jump from behind a ledge.

That wasn't what mattered, though.

"Why hello." You somehow dropped the whole warning-spiel to give a quick greeting, hand on your hip.

But it wasn't quick.

"(Name)!?" Raph quietly exclaimed. Perfect timing for an oxymoron. "What on Earth are you doing here!?" He rushed to you, giant hands on your shoulder and lightly shook you. "Were you trapped here?!"

"Raph, Raphie." You lightly knocked off his grip. "I'm fine. I was looking for a book to finish my biology project. I would really love to get to this concert coming this weekend, but I can't dance my soul out when my grade hangs on the balance of Mr. Racataian." You waved dramatically.

Donnie yanked off his twin-brother's hands. "I had an excellent cadence going before you ruined it, Leo!" He scrunched his face. "Keep your germs off. Who knows where your hands have been?" Donnie sanitized the area around his mouth. He faced you, the disgust wiped off in an instant. He raised an eyebrow, obviously judging the decision you just made.

"Allow me to digest this." He repeated slowly, "You are looking for a book."

"Mhm."

"To help you with a school project."

"Yes."

"From the human world."

"Uh-huh."

"And you're not searching in any of New York's public libraries, but in the Mystic Library?"

"Sums it up."

"'Sums it up?' That is downright absurd!" His eye twitched. "Why?"

"Yeah. No offense, (Name)," Leo intercepted. "This lowkey doesn't feel like the right place for you to be searching for human books. You should try one of the higher stories." He quirkily pointed up.

"Oh, you're right! They'd–."

"You should neither be endorsing this nor encouraging them, Leonardo!" Donnie hissed and went to pinch between his brows. "Dear Darwin, you have access to the Internet, (Name)!"

"I'm well aware, Don."

He blinked incredulously. "Oh Bohr. What have they done to you, my brightest pupil? My intelligent (Name)! Has New York decided to reduce state funding on public education as of late?" He suddenly hugged you, garnering shock from Leo and Raph. Donnie rarely– much emphasis on rarely– touched anyone out of his will. So this said a lot. "We shall fix this. An old fashion petition won't do. They never listen to those–."

"Donnie!" You shoved the mutant off, ignoring his endearing title for you. "Did you seriously believe I hadn't visited the public libraries?"

"I'm afraid you are not making any sense, (Name). To come here implies there weren't any books at all relating to your topic–!"

"Of course, there are!" You ruffled your hair. "But my teacher begged everyone to put in forty sources– all of them as books– or else he'd drop our grades by two whole letters! I don't know what's his deal with bringing in physical work! It's been decades! Can he please catch up to today's technology!?"

Yes, you were in fact whispering still.

"Sheesh." Leo crossed his arms and muttered, "And here I thought high school's all about the sports. Y'know, the better stuff."

"Why are you guys even here?"

In a blink of an eye, Raph tensed up. Hands on his head, he panicked as he snatched his phone out of you-don't-know-where. He frantically tapped his thumbs on the screen, texting. You looked around. "And where's Mikey and April?"

"Mikey. . . kinda got taken to the kiddie room." Leo rubbed his nape. "He did that to himself though, so I wouldn't really worry 'bout him that much."

"Oh." You snickered. "So he's the one I heard that loud echo from." You would have laughed real hard at that.

"Not gonna lie, I kinda wanna do the same thing. But those bats up there are giving me the heebie-jeebies."

"And so where's April? Isn't she usually with you guys too?"

"Mayhem. . . got stuck in her mirror."

". . ."

Leo twiddled with his fingers.

You freaked out, your one spare hand wiggling and everything. "Why are you guys even chatting with me!?" Your eye twitched. "Are you lost or something? There's some Magic 8 Ball thing down that hall. You could've found the book by now–!"

"Which I would've found if it weren't for my annoying colleague interupting my memory rhythm." Donnie gritted his teeth. "But fret you shall not, (Name). Everything is handled without flaw as long as my intellect is around. Nothing is necessary except for your mind."

Ah. Your daily dose of Donnie's wisdom. You didn't even have to ask.

"Woah-ho. Now you're blaming me, mi hermano?" The latter had his hands up defensively. "You're the only one with directions inside your head. I was only trying to stop you from getting snatched by bats. Did you get that?" He spelled each letter, "B-A-T-S."

"You!" Robotic arms from Donnie's Battle Shell snatched Leo and shook him like an earthquake. "I won medalions from the National Spelling Bee, you simpleton! You can't even spell 'soldier' without replacing the letter 'd' with a 'j'! Who are you to quest–!?

Oh Bohr."

He did in fact yell.

You and Leo gaped with wide-open jaws as your friend with a big ego dramatically floated away by bats.

"Donnie!" Raph nearly screeched.

⇨ ⇨ ⇨

"I know Donnie has once again messed up our mission as he does on virtually every mission." Leo glanced between April's panicked messages on his brother's phone and you. His sights lingering on you each time.

"Are you trying to impress (Name) by putting down Donnie?"

"Wha–What? Of course not." Leo nervously chuckled. "W-Where did you get that idea from?" He looked at you yet again. The moment you made direct eye-contact, he tried putting up his nonchalant facade. Instead, he looked kind of goofy.

You wouldn't tell him that though.

Raph pointed at him, narrowing his eyes. "Are you trying to get Donnie fired?" Before his brother's hand slammed his face.

"We'll discuss that later." He swung to change the subject. "Let's just focus on getting that book, so we can save Mayhem." Leo held his chin, pondering. "We need to remember the song. How did it go? Something about a Loom."

"Loom 16." You heard it briefly when you had gone off in search of your buddies. You were sure if you could catch onto the beat again, you could remember all the lyrics– directions.

"That's right!" Raph snapped his fingers softly. "Take Corridor B. . . Uhhh. And then where'd it go?"

"Oh my God." You clasped your mouth. The other two whipped their heads. "What happened, (Name)?"

"I forgot to tell you guys!" said you in a hushed voice. "Those two guys from the Foot Clan are here to mess things up again!"

"You said who!?" Raph crashed into another body.

"Us." There they were, Foot Brute and Foot Lieutenant, right in the flesh. "How thoughtful of you to let us make our own welcoming, instead of spoiling it for others." The Lieutenant signaled in your direction with a sneer.

"Hey! Step aside, chump! We're on a crucial mission!"

"Which is why we're going to throw a little monkey wrench into your plans."

"We'll see about that." Raph charged to land an attack, but meeting the Brute's palm. Everyone quickly remembered the Hush Bats hanging patiently along a beam. The two backed off. Blue hopped on his brother's back. "We can't fight these guys! We have to be quiet, or we'll never get the book to free Mayhem!"

"So we fight them as quietly as the quietest lions in the jungle of silence!" Raph grunted. "Like a boss!"

"Oh dear me. Where's your other partner?" The Lieutenant pointed. Without a thought, the two mutants whipped their heads behind another time. Figuratively, your missing figure left a flashing dotted outline. Raph shrieked, "(Name)'s been kidnapped! What have you–?"

Book dust puffed out into his face. He nearly bursted into a sneeze if not for Leo's quick reaction.

"Oh, it's so on." Blue's competitive spirit tingled.

Raph stomped on the Brute's foot. Leo gave a real disgusting wet willy to the Lieutenant's ear. Things quickly escalated to making one another laugh as hard and loud as possible. Even the other visitors looked disturbed, either wheeling back their squeaking chairs or simply turning away.

BONK!

.

.

THUD!

BUNK!

.

.

THUD!

Leo and Raph froze in the middle of their shenanigans as two heavy books struck the heads of the Feet. What an odd name, you would have thought. The impact created loud sounds that resonated throughout the library.

Two more victims for the kiddie room were claimed that day.

"Hey guys. Sorry, I went off for a mome–. Why is there a book in your mouth, Leo?"

He spat out the book, its spine drenched saliva.

"Oh. . ."

"You. . . did not see anything."

You slid down the bookcase. The one book with the fish-like Yōkai remained in your grasp. Raph practically teared up upon your sight. "Y-You weren't kidnapped after all. . .!"

"Thank you for the concern, but why would I be. . .?" You blinked amusingly before waving it off. "Nevermind." You pointed in a specific direction. "Let's head this way. There's Corridor B right there. Someone told me where this 'waterfall' is."

♪ Up the pole through the hole to the waterfall. ♫

"Oh-ho! So he did mention a waterfall." Leo snapped his fingers. "You're a life-saver, (Name). Up high!" You lightly high-five– or is it high-three– his hand.

Raph exhaled, patting your back– a usual sign of either appreciation or reassurance you came to learn. "Like a boss."

"See?" Blue nudged Red. "Like I said, who needs Donnie when–."

"Don't even think about it, Leo."

A sudden low ring of Raph's phone vibrated. The snapping turtle proceeded to take it out, but your hands were quick to stop him. "Shh! Don't you dare answer that. We don't know how loud whoever's calling is!"

Raph looked unsure. "It's April. I hafta take this or she's gonna go berserk! Don't want her to think we've forgotten about Mayhem!"

"Hey, I'd love talk to my best friend too, but right now, if any loud noise–."

Much to your damned misfortune, however, a heavy– extra heavy– book fell onto the floor beside the snapping turtle.

He did not realize he was leaning on the bookcase.

THUD!

And on the cover, there existed the title: How to Not Drop Anything.

The Hush Bats, in a single second, clouded your vision like a fog. A vein popped on Raph's forehead, gritting his teeth. He groaned exasperately. "Okay, I've had just about enough of this jumble! Forget being quiet, we got our buddy Mayhem to save!" His tonfās glowed red.

You frantically waved your arms. "Hold on a second, Raph–!"

"Power smash-a-roni!"

It was too late. You and the red-eared slider were tightly shoved against each other, being held in a gigantic holographic hand as Raph activated his energy construct. "You're seriously going to wreck the entire library!?" Leo shouted. "OW. Watch the grip, King Kong! You're squeezing the very life out of us!"

♪ Down the stairs past the Ibis Tapestry. ♫

Raph's eyes lit up at the banner with a long-beaked bird on it. "Ibis Tapestry!" The Hush Bats swarmed around you once again.

You screamed, "To your left!"

The sliding bookshelves were found. Raph simply smashed his way past them. "To think I was gonna apply here as an assistant too!" You wailed. "I'm never going to be able to come back here as long as I'm associated with you guys!"

The Hush Bats began to charge right at you three. But Leo yanked out his ōdachi. With a swipe, a portal opened up, sending all the bats right into the bookshelves opposite.

"Can someone tell me if we're almost there?" Leo had been waving and brandishing his ōdachi. The repetitive high-pitched squeaks were heard when the blade struck something. "Ughh. These bats are getting on my nerves! My arms are getting sore!"

♪ Up the pole through the hole to the waterfall. ♫

"Up the pole!" Raph yelled until he broke through the fountain. The book, Complete Compendium of Escape Rituals, glimmered in the center of a large podium. One of the shiniest covers you could ever witness glowing.

"Don't worry I got it!" Leo portal'ed himself right over and snatched the book. But the Hush Bats rushed in as well. He grinned, "Oh yeah! Hero of the day!"

"Leo! Hand over the book!" Raph urged. "While you're at it, portal (Name) out of here!"

Your eyes widened. "What are you do–!?" Raph used his energy construct and flung you and himself over. You shrieked, "You little! You forgot I'm a humaaannn!" Leo passed the book to his brother, and swung his ōdachi. The portal that appeared behind you teleported you away from getting a concussion and five weeks of a coma on a bookshelf.

As two brothers exploded through the walls, crashing through the glass, the Bat Librarian– busy stamping books– instantly painted her face across in horror when she looked up. Her wide yellow eyes as she watched the destruction unfold right above the main chamber.

Oh boy did she herself explode into rage. "You! I'll pummel you into papyrus!" she hissed. Her normal Yōkai form mutated into something larger, expanding her wings and all of her six limbs.

Leo gulped thickly.

"Err. . .

. . .Is it too late to be pardoned?"

So much for being the "Face."

She soared up, seizing the two mutants, and body-slammed them down into another room. The debris scattering across the puzzle-tiled floor and unicorn-themed carpet. The book was still safe in Raph's grasp.

Hold on.

Puzzles and unicorns?

"Oh my God. It's about time you showed up! Why the hell would you teleport me here of all places, Leo!?"

They groaned, recovering from the brutal impact. Only to discover you were tied in jumpropes and about to be sacrificed to. . . Mikey?!

They had crashed into the kiddie room.

Their box turtle of a younger brother, covered in glow-in-the-dark marker and his head crowned with feathers, sat high and mighty on a stack of giant books like a throne. The armrests were made with alphabet blocks. Donnie sat on the side, fanning him with leaves. The Foot Brute and Lieutenant were also tied in jumpropes and hung like cocoons. The other Yōkai chanted and beated the drums.

He swayed his attention from you to the huge raging bat climbing up the rubble, hissing at the turtles.

Mikey, as if declared the king of the jungle, pointed at the Bat Librarian with crazed eyes.

"N E W T O Y!"

April would refuse to believe their fiasco if it weren't for you having a broken rib and bruises on your limbs.

At least your ancient teacher handed you that perfect score.

➵ ➵ ➵

A/N: Fish consume frogs. You wanted to learn about frog anatomy, and it ended up being a cookbook surrounding frogs.

[thehazelmist]

So, I just had a dream about Mr. Puzzles (SMG4). It's very weird, so brace yourself. - Mr. Puzzles/Reader Fanfiction I guess??? created by: HazelMist's Unconscious

Um, so…I just had a strange dream with Mr. Puzzles. Specifically, a dream where he announced the new PuzzleVision merch. It was a 1960s style commercial…kind of, I guess. I have barely watched any 1960s commercials, so I'll just say It was black and white, except for Mr. Puzzles smile. and the commercial was animated.

So In the start of the dream, I wake up. and see In my notifications, that SMG4 uploaded a video. titled "NEW PUZZLEVISION MERCH!" I was extremely excited and hoped they had made a plushie of Mr. Puzzles. so I clicked on it, and uh...this Is how the commercial was.

So, he Is first walking down a lonely street, and see's someone leaning on a pole. uh, that person was Y/N... And they were wearing a plain T shirt, with oversized baggy pants. Not very fitting for the 1960s, but 🤷‍♀️. Mr. Puzzles noticed them, and walk right up to them and said

"Well, hello there my dear~! I'm your friend Mr. Puzzles, and- Oh god, what the hell are you wearing. Your outfit Is so boring, It makes an Average Joe look special."

Uh…Couldn't tell If my unconscious was insulting me or not, because I enjoy wearing plain T shirts and baggy pants. Then Y/N looked down in embarrassment. Then Mr. Puzzles grabbed their hand, and kept walking. but Mr. Puzzles was so tall, that Y/N was almost tripping. but then he stopped, and looked right at Y/N, and suggested

"Hey, I've got the solution to your problem! Why don't you buy some of the latest PuzzleVision merchandise? Your fashion sense would be amazingly blinding! Why not try on our Mario's Mysteries T shirt? Blue's clues and Mario fans would be confused by your stunning (not bootleg…) shirt, and you would attract many PuzzleVision fans!"

The shirt was basically the Mario's Mysteries thumbnail, Then he handed Y/N the shirt, and they responded "W-Wha..? but I don't even watch-" Then Mr. Puzzles cut them off

"Oh, and If you didn't like Mario's Mysteries, we have T shirts of our other episodes too! It would normally be 300.000.00$, but since you are special to me~ I'll make a discount! It's now only 30.00$!"

The shirts were also the thumbnail of the episodes. Then he threw them In a dressing room, and Y/N came out with the Once upon an SMG4 T shirt on. Mr Puzzles clapped his hands excitedly and said "Oh my dear! You look absolutely gorgeous! And If you get cold with only a T shirt, Buy our Mr. Puzzles Hoodie! It's 50.00$!"

The hoodie was a picture of Mr. Puzzles sitting in a chair, with his legs crossed. with a smug face. then afterwards, he said to them

"And I will be going soon, but If you want to keep me with you forever, then you should get…"

Then he pulled out a Mr Puzzles plushie, except It looked kinda weird. He didn't have his bowler hat, and he didn't have his color bar smile, It was just a straight line for a mouth. Anyways, he continued

"This adorable version of me, In plush form! Take It with you everywhere you go! Or If you don't want to get it dirty, just keep It on your shelf! But If you aren't the plushie collector type, Here Is an awesome figurine!"

It was a figurine of Mr. Puzzles doing a JoJo's Bizarre Adventure esque pose, with his maniacal face. and then he showed another figurine.

"Oh, and here Is another action figure of….that one inkling guy!"

The figurine barely looked like Oneshot wren though, and It wasn't even an Inkling. It looked like someone tried to recreate Wren In Plotagon. and didn't Western Spaghetti already have It's own merch? I kind of forgot what else Mr. Puzzles said, but he showed some Mr Puzzles Pins and Keychains that were both In chibi style. they were really cute! not like that Oneshot Wren figure…And after showing all the merch, He said

"Now, Let's skip time to a few weeks, and see how much these items have affected you!"

And then there was the Spongebob time card that said "2000 years later" and we are back with Mr Puzzles and Y/N, Except he is holding a microphone now, and asks them

"So, how much have my great merch helped you In life?" and then Y/N says something like "Nothing much has changed-"

and then the commercial rewinds, and goes back to when Mr. Puzzles asked that question. and then Y/N says "Oh, I feel much more happier now! with my amazing T shirts, I have so many more friends, and everyone wants to hang out with me! and I am enjoying your company, In plush form! Thank you, Mr. Puzzles!"

Then Mr. Puzzles responded "You're welcome! Have a great day, my darling!

Then, the commercial cuts to a blank screen, showcasing all the merch. and some strange announcer voice, that was definitely not Mr. Puzzles, their voice was very deep. says something like… "Go buy the new PuzzleVision Merch In smg4.store today!"

And then the video finished, and I was very confused of what I just saw. but then I might have waken up.

and uhhh…I think thats all I remember. If you made It this far, thanks for reading me ramble about some nonsensical dream I had last night. I probably dreamt It because I am TERRIBLY DESPERATE to have a Mr. Puzzles plushie. If I feel like It, I might try to make an animatic based on this dream. I might post It on Youtube. But I dunno, would you actually want to see that?

[dodorimo]

WIP Wednesday Saturday

Stripper!Tav x Raphael

Just a piece of something that's been in my drafts since forever

· · ──────  ❊  ────── · ·

People who don’t know any better think her strength lies in the art of seduction, but she believes it’s in the way she can read people at first glance. Whether it was the twitching of a finger or a sharp intake of breath, no sign was small enough to escape her trained eyes.

The man sitting at the front-row table would rather be anywhere else. Glancing at his watch discreetly, eyes glazed over with boredom. Tav has seen plenty of men like this come and go. Men who were pressured into coming to their club by their peers, out of a sense of obligation or just to keep up appearances, there’s no way of knowing for certain.

He’s handsome, in a timeless, elegant way. The kind you see in black-and-white movies. Chestnut-brown hair slicked back, sharp cheekbones and a mouth that promised to curl into the most sinful of smiles. In his late forties or fifties.

Two other men sit at his table, both younger and more enthusiastic, if the way their eyes almost pop out of their sockets as they look at her is anything to go by. She doesn’t spare them a second glance.

Of course, Tav knows she’s being partial. In her experience, older men are more likely to keep their hands to themselves and leave generous tips.

A part of her resents the fact that he isn't looking at her, craves his undivided attention. But then again, her show has just started.

“That girl looks like a good lay,” says one of the men in the front row, loud enough for her to hear even over the blaring music.

“The one with the awful dye job?”

Excuse her…? Her hair color is as natural as it can get, thank you very much.

“Nah, that one is a real blond.”

“I’ll only believe if I see it for myself,” the man says as his eyes run down her body in a way that leaves little doubt as to his meaning.

Fuck her this, fuck her that. Enough of these two jerks. She heard worse and with much more color. If her handsome stranger kept such rude company around him, maybe she isn’t so keen on getting to know him after all.

She often pictures someone while she dances—a prince from a faraway land, a movie star, a stern-looking madam. It gave her performance an extra edge, made it just a little more captivating. This time, however, she doesn’t need to superimpose her imagination on a poor bystander, she locks eyes with her mysterious stranger and gives everything she has.

It doesn't take long for her to lose herself in the carnal energy of the place, in the heavy beat of the music, in the pungent smell of smoke and sweat, until everything around her is a blur. It reminds her why she does this, why she dances.

The music stops and she slides down the pole, body aching and sweaty, a satisfied smile on her face. The men stare at her, lust written in their gazes, but she only cares about one set of eyes. At the front-row table, her handsome stranger is looking straight at her.

Not just looking at her. Devouring her is a better way of putting it, as if she were a fresh-from-the-oven—and entirely too irresistible—canapé being served at his table. She was right earlier: he does look good when he smiles. Although she had underestimated the wolfish nature of it, the way his eyes sparkled with newfound interest.

The moment is short-lived. A small crowd has gathered at the edge of the stage, pulling her from her musings. Her audience expects her to put on a show and she doesn’t intend to disappoint.

Her lacy garters are overflowing with cash by the time she’s done, some falling to the floor where she stands.

A flash of brown hair. Her heart beats faster.

“You were magnificent, my dear. Truly a sight to behold.” Lorroakan, one of her regulars, blocks her view of the crowd. Tav looks past him, but the seats at the front-row table are empty. “You must let me show you my full appreciation later.”

There is little to be said about the man, other than the fact that being around him was an exercise in endurance. Forcing a smile, Tav crawls to him on all fours on the stage. Lorroakan may be an insufferable bastard, but he had money to burn.

The fabric of her jeans shorts grazes the cold floor as she arches her back to be at eye level with him. Her outfit today is that of a naughty country girl, with a sleeveless white shirt wrapped around her midriff and stockings that went up to her knees. A little too plain for her tastes, but she knows better than to say no to Shadowheart (the flush that took over the woman’s face when she put on the outfit more than made up for her troubles, though).

“I’ll take your appreciation in the form of your tips.” Holding the ginger’s gaze, she splays her palms over her breasts and squeezes them together.

It is almost comical, the way he automatically reaches into his pockets and places the money in her cleavage, like a toy that was put to work, his eyes wide open and mouth ajar.

What happens next is a little more unclear. Lorroakan goes back to his seat—or is pushed, he doesn’t seem to have noticed either way—and someone else takes his spot.

[moreminidragons]

Watermelon Crawl - Simon "Ghost" Riley

Cowboy!Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN!Reader,

Warnings: Smut, penetration, not proofed, reader's genitalia is neutral, reader is a bottom, this is my first work so any criticism is greatly appreciated.

2,514 words.

It was hot, warmer than what Simon was used to. He had just moved down to the American South and was driving down to the farm he was a cattle hand for. His truck AC had broken so he rolled down his windows. Cigarette hung in between his fingers, hand tapping on the side of his beat up old Ford. His skull bandana pulled over his nose and lips, loose enough he could still smoke and drink under it. It was the first thing he was given when he landed in the Country. 

The radio was turned up loud, playing some station he didn’t care to change, this being the only station that didn’t cut out every five miles. A bright sign caught his attention, it was shaped like a watermelon and read: ‘2:00pm-TIL COME ON AND CRAWL WITH US’ Underneath this it said something about the County’s Watermelon Festival. He saw more signs leading up to the turn. Simon gave in, shooting Soap a text about being late for whatever the guy’s had planned tonight. 

Simon parked in the gravel patch, grabbing his black cattleman hat off the dash. He walked up to the stand at the front of the festival, surprised it was free to get in and getting a free drink ticket. He continued walking farther into the celebration, getting a few looks from people. His black western style was always a bit questionable to many, considering how hot it gets. 

He walked over to the first drink stand he could see, using his free drink ticket to get a cup of the watermelon wine that seemed incredibly popular. He took a sip from his straw, almost spitting it out at how sweet it was. He sighed and kept drinking it, the syrupy drink coating his throat. Soap had texted him back, letting him know that it was fine and how the guys had started cards without him anyway, meaning that they wouldn't miss him. This made his life easier and meant that maybe he wouldn’t be questioned as much. 

He heard an announcement being made near the center of the festival. There was a portable dance floor spread out on the dirt ground, light poles in buckets of concrete surrounding it, giving it more light as the sun started setting. The Mayor of this county was giving a speech about the dangers of drinking and driving and boasting about the pure amount of the syrupy wine they had stored away. This apparently was meant to lead into a song with a line dance. 

People filed onto the dance floor, keeping in relatively straight lines as they did. Simon sat to the side of the floor, watching as the electric guitar started picking up in the background. The drums and bass made his heart feel like it was thumping to the beat of the song. The lyrics were almost exactly what happened to him, giving him deja vu of his day. 

The line dance began with the lyrics, people tapping their toes in a pattern on the plywood beneath them. It was mesmerizing to watch. The people he saw changed slightly as everyone slid into a new spot. He thought he recognized one of the faces, a familiar hat topping it. All of the hands at the farm had a band they wore around the crown of their hats, marking them. This stood out to him immediately, his eyes widened, hand squeezing the disposable cup he held. 

Since he had met you he thought you were amazing. You knew how to do everything you needed to. You always made lunch for all the farm hands, feeding them dinner if they needed it too. Your hat was similar to his, mostly black but yours had fine red and white detailing all over it, patterns that always stood out to him. You were kind and actually paid attention to what he said, he was quiet until he was with you, always having something to chatter about. 

That damned hat stood out in the crowd, he had found you among the hundred people on the dance floor. You had taken it off, leaving it tied onto you by the rope around your neck, the felt of the hat pressed against your back. You were looking to get lucky tonight apparently, hoping that someone would place their hat onto your head and claim you for the night. You glided around the dance floor, steel tipped boots clicking loudly to the beat. You looked like a dream, the sun had set, like fire on the horizon. The string lights that hung around the floor making you glow, a halo of light surrounding you as your hips swung around on the beat. Sweat forming on your hairline, making you shimmer. A large smile graced your face as you laughed at the people around you, drunk and dancing. 

Fuck it

He decided he was going to do it, he was going for it. Simon downed the rest of his wine, the sweetness and the slight buzz gave him just enough edge to shoot his shot. The song’s last note was held as people cheered, the dancers and onlookers alike clapping and wooing loudly. 

He walked up behind you as you laughed and clapped along, placing his black cowboy hat onto your head, the brim covered your eyes slightly as you adjusted it. You looked around for a moment, searching to find him, the man who claimed you for the night. “Ghost.” You breathed out, lips parted and eyes wide in astonishment. Simon adjusted his hat on your head, straightening it out. “Simon. Tonight you call me Simon.” He said to you, hoping and praying that you accept his offer. 

“Simon it is then.” You said, biting your wine stained lips and looking up at him. You grabbed one of his belt loops and pulled him off the dance floor, dragging him close to you. “I came here with friends, did you?” You asked him, head tilting to the side as you spoke. “No, but I’m leaving with you.” Simon stated, grabbing your hips and holding you close to him, your belt buckles clinked together. He looked down at your buckle, smiling below his mask slightly at the silver skeleton hand holding a gun on yours. He was wearing the one you got him for his birthday last year, you ran your thumb over the engraving on it. 

“Well I’ll be damned Simon, let’s go then.” You said, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the exit eagerly, one hand holding his hat on your head. You looked back at him grinning widely, eyes squinting closed slightly in joy. His eyes softened staring into yours, as you left the festival. He pulled you to him, grabbing your waist hand resting on your hip as he walked you to his truck. 

He clicked the button on his keys, unlocking the doors to his truck. He opened the door for you, and you slid into the passenger seat of his two door cab. He got into the driver's seat, starting the truck. The radio was on low, playing some upbeat country station. As he peeled out of the bumpy gravel you texted your ride you were leaving with someone else. Simon’s hand found your thigh, he gently placed it just above your knee trying to be respectful. You placed your hand over his, guiding it further up your thigh, encouraging him. 

Luckily the ride was short. He pulled up onto the path that led to the farm you both work on, driving farther until he reached one of the cabins, multiple people stayed in each. There were other cars parked outside of it, Simon groaned at this, not wanting to kick out everyone. He looked over to you, his eyebrows raising in question, asking what you wanted to do. You leaned over and switched off the truck’s headlights, hand pressing high onto his thigh as you did. 

You slid into the middle seat of the cab, Simon thanking every god he could think of for the old hand me down truck he was given. He put the truck in park, leaving the engine running. You turned the radio up a bit louder and leaned over to his side, grasping the lever of the steering column. The steering wheel slides back quickly, giving you space to straddle him. His hands found purchase on your hips, while yours ran up and down his chest and shoulders. “How do you wanna take this Simon?” You asked, nose nuzzling into the side of his neck. Simon groaned out at your movement, moving one of his hands up to your hair. “I’ll take it however you give it to me.” He said, obviously growing more impatient. 

This was all you needed to hear, desperately grasping at his worn pearl snap shirt. You knew the rule of the mask, not daring to go near it. As you ripped the snaps of his shirt apart, he worked on your belt. You pushed back his shirt, peeling it off of his muscular body. He quickly undid his own belt, pushing his pants down just enough for his bulge to press against you. Simon quickly worked your shirt, taking it off of you with purpose. You had managed to wiggle out of your pants and underwear, now straddling him bare. The size of his bulge made you breathe in sharply, having never taken something so large. 

“Open.” Simon ordered, voice gruff and strained from lust. Your body responded quickly, mouth falling open, tongue out. He chuckled at this while he pressed two fingers into your mouth, using your saliva to lube them up. As he worked his fingers in your mouth you grinded down on the tent in his boxers, rolling your body against it hotly. Simon snaked his hand around your body, pressing the fingers you sucked on against your entrance. You groaned out at the intrusion, hips automatically trying to press back on them, searching for more pressure. 

As Simon slowly worked you open with his thick fingers, he opened the glove box, blindly searching for a condom. “Eyes open.” He commanded. You did as requested, breath hot and heavy from his fingers stretching you. Simon holds the condom out to you, eyebrows questioning you in a silent request. You nodded quickly, taking the condom from him. You look into his eyes while you ride his fingers, putting the condom in your lips and ripping it open. His eyes are lidded with lust at the action, groaning as you pull down his boxers. His cock springs out at attention, causing you to moan out at the sight. You take the condom in your hand, gently sliding it down the hot length. Simon’s fingers curl as you reach the bottom of his shaft, causing you to throw your head back and squeeze the base of his cock slightly in turn making him groan louder. 

“You think you’re ready, pretty thing?” Simon tilts his head slightly in question. You nod again desperately. “Use your words or nothin’s gonna happen.” He growls out. “Please Simon, I need you to take me — need your cock inside of me — please.” You begged out, pleading with him to keep going. You can see the smile on his covered face as you say this, the glint in his eyes as bright as the stars outside. 

Simon rests his hard length against your hole gently, slowly pressing in the tip of it. Your breathing increases exponentially, chest heaving at the slight burn of his size. He keeps pressing, once the head of his cock is all the way in you moan out loudly, encouraging him to keep going. Your bodies are both covered in a sheen of sweat, sticking together. As he bottoms out you both breathe out a moan. Your lips find purchase on his shoulder, kissing and sucking on the exposed skin while you grind down. His hands find your hips, coaxing you to start bouncing slightly. The movement hits you both hard, moans being drowned out by the radio. As you get bolder while riding him, he moves his hands, dragging them up and down your exposed body. Brushing against your nipples and pinching them slightly, making you bite your lip from the pleasure. 

You threw your head back as Simon’s cock hit deep inside of you, brushing against your sweet spot. He took advantage of this, moving his face to the side of your neck. Simon made use of the looseness of his mask, draping it over your neck so he could kiss at your soft skin. You grasp at the hair on the nape of his neck, tugging lightly causing him to moan against your skin. His thrusts were growing sporadic and you knew that both of you were balancing on the edge. A gruff breath hit your abused neck, “Shit — I’m close.” Simon moaned out. “Cum, Simon, please—” You replied breathlessly. You clenched around him, his cock hitting the soft spot inside of you. “Fuck!” He cried out as he came, biting down on your shoulder. You moaned out loudly at this, quickly coming immediately after him.  

For a few seconds you both sat there, fully blissed out. Simon released your neck from his bite and nuzzled his clothed nose into your neck, his face pressed into you. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, holding the large man close. Simon once again blindly reaches into the already open glove box, finding some napkins he had saved. He uses his other hand to slightly tap your thigh, gently requesting you to dismount him. You slide into the middle seat next you him, your thighs touching. He offers you the napkins to clean up while he rolls off the condom, tying it and wrapping it in another napkin.

You settle for a moment before you both start dressing. It’s a bit difficult with the small space but you manage to look almost presentable. You turn to Simon, fixing his hair as he fastens his belt. He looks up at you with soft eyes, you can tell he's smiling at you. The music from the radio is still loud and his hat is still placed firmly on your head. You both look at the radio then back at each other breaking out into a fit of laughter as “Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy)” starts playing, the irony not lost on either of you. 

Simon’s hand rests gently on your thigh as he sighs, preparing to enter the cabin he shares with his friends. Simon looks over at your smile, he quirks his eyebrow in silent question, asking if you are ready to face them. You sigh, nodding in response, ready to face the potential questioning. Simon twists the key, turning off the truck as he opens the door and climbs out of the truck cab. He holds out his hand to you, as you slide out of the driver's side too. You clutch his hand as you two walk up to the door. Before going in you turn to him, kissing him through the mask lightly. You pull back, smiling at each other before walking into the house. 

[sunnynwanda]

The Darkside

Part 2   Part 3   Part 4

Warning: mentions of physical torture and trauma (a somewhat graphic description of rape in the 2nd chapter), blood, broken bones, violence... you get the idea. Please do not interact if any of those might be triggering for you. This is by far the roughest thing I’ve written on this website. 

Hero's fingers tap along the rhythm of their frantic heart against their thigh. Their restless eyes scan the horizon for any signs of Villain. It's 15 minutes past midnight, and they have every right to be worried. Villain is never late. They know something is wrong. What they don't know is what to do. Because a) they were never friends with Villain, so they have no idea where to look, and b) Villain doesn't exactly like them. Not that Hero can blame them. They are enemies, after all.

Ever since villains have started disappearing from the city, Hero has been... anxious. To say the least. They kept seeing familiar faces on the morning news, each day silently praying to not hear their Villain's name. They discussed the issue with fellow crime fighters, only to come to one conclusion - the mystery reigned over their city.

They tried approaching their mentor - Superhero - to voice their concerns regarding the disappearances but were met with a stern face and a horrifying statement that made bile rise in Hero's mouth. 

Wasn't this our end goal, Hero? The city will be free of criminals, doesn't matter how.

Villain's frame appears against the starry sky 45 minutes past midnight, and Hero relaxes. A wave of warm relief washes over them, only to leave them stiff when Villain lands in front of them, right under the street light. Had they not known them so well, Hero wouldn't recognize the bloody mess in place of their face.

"Vil, what on Earth..." they start, only to be interrupted by a coarse voice. Villain can't seem to focus their gaze, an obvious sign of concussion, if not many.

"Shut it." Villain sneers, brushing Hero's hand away and wincing when the movement sends a jolt of pain down their spine. "Don't start."

"Villain," they struggle to keep their face straight because they have never seen Villain so wrecked. "Hold still. You're about to collapse."

They move to support them, but Villain jumps away despite the pain cruising through their body after every move. "Hero. Don't."

"At least let me assess the damage," Hero pleads, an unconscious realisation forming in the depths of their mind. Villain takes a limping step back.

"Why, so you can report?" Hero shudders at the way their voice breaks. Villain leans against the light pole, unable to stand on their right foot. Hero watches them intently, only now noticing how they are cradling their left hand. Lord, just how injured are you?

"What are you talking about?" Hero's breath hitches in their throat. They pause, taking a deliberate breath before continuing. "Who did this to you?"

"Take your guess." Villain chuckles darkly, their swollen face distorting into a grimace. The expressive mimic causes the gash on their forehead to bleed again. They wipe it with their sleeve. "I'm surprised I'm still alive."

"Vil, you're not helping." Hero did not intend to sound so harsh, but something tells them they don't have much time. And they need answers. "I don't understand."

"You, you, you… It's only ever about you!" Villain explodes, and the floodgates break down, releasing everything they've had to hold back. "Did you ever wonder what happened to the others?" they scream, hitting their rival's chest. Hero doesn't stop them when they notice even Villain's fingers are covered in dry blood, some broken. Hero feels their own blood freeze in their veins. Gods, what kind of a monster do you have to be to...

Villain lets out a choked cry, throwing their head back and looking up to contain themselves. "Has it ever crossed your mind that you were not the only variable in the game?" They are not addressing Hero so much as talking to themselves. "Of course not."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hero starts quietly. They are beginning to see the puzzle pieces, but the picture isn't clear to their mind's eye.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" This time, Villain sounds calm. Almost indifferent. Vacant.

They drape their cape over their head and start to turn when Hero stops them, lightly touching their shoulder. "Hey, don't walk out on me. Tell me." Villain whimpers in pain at the touch, prompting Hero to jerk their hand away, stiffening at the look in their eyes. "I'm sorry."

"I'm the only one that's escaped," Villain explains, lowering their voice to a whisper for good measure. "They'll find out in the morning and try to track me."

"I promise I can keep you safe," Hero claims, determination colouring their eyes red. "Who are they?"

Villain shakes their head wordlessly. "Use your brain. Do your research. You'll be surprised to know what those walls are hiding." They nod to the north. Superhero's headquarters. No.

Their emotions must be evident on their face because Villain lets out another dark chuckle. "You might find he has different ways of breaking people. You know nothing of the methods he uses to torture people into submission."

"Sub… what?" The question scratches the back of their throat with vague understanding. One they don't dare to voice. "Villain, you need a doctor."

"I need to get out of this city," Villain replies, turning away from them in a swift motion. "And I suggest you do the same once you learn the truth. He won't spare you." They add over their shoulder before vanishing into the night. Leaving Hero alone and shaking under the street lamp.

Hero has 3 hours until dawn. And they intend to use those hours to find out the truth, pack up their things and disappear from the city for good.

Part 2   Part 3   Part 4

Masterlist

Hi loves! I know I’ve been practically MIA on this website but I did have a good reason for that (that being the final exam in my PhD course).

I am back now and I hope you’ll enjoy this... as much as one can, of course. 

Love, 

Sunny

[honey-milk-depresso]

Hey Honey it's me again! I was wondering if could a Pomefiore and Diasomnia Headcannons with a Yor Forger! SO

I MEAN- WHO DOESN'T LOVE HER??? SKJDHSJDHDK I'm so sorry that I only did up to Pomefiore, but I'll try doing your other requests. ;-;;;;

You seem to lack social skills and initially come across as a somewhat aloof and sticking with the minimal with interacting, interacting, short and straightforward with a seemingly robotic and mechanical way of talking to others.

You are remarkably calm and collected in the face of danger, and you're incredibly polite… although sometimes you're rather blunt in compliments. Despite your front, you are actually a very kind and have a strong maternal instinct and as you grow closer with your peers, you're more expressive, and you have no problems with going to extreme measures to protect the ones you love.

However, you're usually insecure about your abilities, and you worry that you're not capable to be a good friend or more. Surely, they would see something more in you than you know it…

TWST The Aloof, but kind and motherly (and a bit violent) s/o (Yor Forger)

Vil Schoenheit

He doesn't really mind you being aloof, in fact, he prefers you being "straight to the point". You keep your answers sweet, short and relevant for anyone to understand, which he appreciates.

Vil values your politeness and courtesy, perhaps that's why he was charmed by you. Needless to say, when you got into a relationship, he realized that that calm nature of yours is to hide a very easy to fluster, sweet person.

In a way, it amuses him how someone who seems so calm gets their cheeks flushed when their lover simply gives them a simple kiss on the forehead. Who knew you were actually this adorable, potato?

Furthermore, you get more and more emotional the closer you are with him and your peers, which he blinks at a bit surprised to see you grin and chuckle, cry and whine. Oddly, however, you do seem to also... take "action" a bit too much when he's in trouble.

For example, one time a fan of his was being very pushy on Halloween, clearly neglecting his personal space and the number of times he tried to politely shoo them off, but to no avail. As he was wondering what to do with a slightly irritated look, you swiftly cut through the thick air to chop down a pole right next to that fan.

"He. Said. Personal. Space." Needless to say, that fan finally listened. Wow, how unexpected. Again-

What an odd lover he has. <3

Rook Hunt

To be honest, isn't Rook similar to you? He appears very kind (a little dramatic, pretty weird too with his shooting and stuff), but he has quite a backstory and... are those photos of students on his wall???

Anyways, like Vil, Rook doesn't mind your aloof nature. He thinks it's rather endearing to see you very polite as well as keeping most of your conversations short. So, he was a bit surprised by your change in attitude after you became his s/o, because the transformation was completely in contrast to your known nature.

You were more kind, more expressive, very sweet and easy to fluster. Oh my! How adorable! Beaute! He thinks it's lovely, absolutely lovely to see this adorable side to you. This dynamic between you too would be very interesting, nonetheless...

Rook does seem to know of you being "a bit" violent when it comes to protecting the ones you hold dear... like himself! (Oh god-)

When Rook found himself in a fair bit of trouble with the ghost, you swiftly used a pebble of some sort and threw it hard into the tree, which pierced through its trunk and flew to the other side. Seeing the intimidating and darkened look on your face, leaving the ghosts too stunned and they ran off in a frenzy. They can't even get hit...

Alas, he still thinks you're his beloved! You two sure make an interesting couple. <33

Epel Felmier

He didn't think much of it, but you are being aloof has him a bit awkward on his end. With your quick, short replies and mostly being quiet, he doesn't know how else to continue on with any conversation with you.

Somewhere and somehow down the road, he managed to get into a relationship with you, and to him, he has won the lottery of a romantic life.

The way you get so flustered easily, with your sweet and kindhearted attitude chiseled out of your usual calm composure is something real cute to him. On top of that, you called him "a real man" when he chased off those ghosts during that cursed wedding (quite literally cursed-)! He's ecstatic!

Furthermore... when did you learnt to fight??? He saw you punch the wall when a Savanaclaw student was making fun of his petite body, as you glared intensely into the soul of that now victim student.

"Leave. Him. Alone." Of course, he shrieked and backed off, the delinquent fleeing the scene without wanting to be the one your fist touched. Epel thinks you're so cool, and he wants to learn from you!

Well, he's trying his best. <3

Reblogs help! ^^

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Wasted Potential

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Stripper!Reader

Word Count: ~1.1k

Warnings: dirty men eyes, being embarrassed by stripping

Request by anon: Could I request bucky barnes x reader who's like angel Salvador (the girl with bug wings from xmen) just fluff maybe she's insecure about her power? :3 <3

Summary: You work as a stripper who can do so much more if you want to. You have powers that you'd love to show off but can't because you were always told to conceal them. One day, Bucky comes into your club and you don't handle it well.

Squares Filled: kink: legs (2020) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

You stare at yourself in the mirror debating whether or not you want to continue this job. It pays very well and gets you out of debt but you hate the way it makes you feel about not only yourself but about the other people you work with. There is a whole side to yourself that you have to keep hidden, and this job forces that part of yourself deep down inside of you.

You turn to examine the outfit they forced you into and notice the wings on your back. They are tattooed on for the time being but they are beautiful. Oh, how you wish to bring them out. Customers seem to love the look of them which is why you wear stuff that shows off your back. Your entire body is on display for people to look at but they always gravitate toward the wings.

“Angel, are you ready?” your manager asks.

“I guess,” you say and fix your lipstick.

“We got a large crowd today. Make me proud,” he grins.

You choose not to comment on that. You’d love nothing more than to punch him in his face and give him a taste of his medicine but you force that side of you down. You walk out of the dressing room and onto the main room where there are hundreds of hungry eyes devouring you. Thankfully, the manager of the place doesn't let the men touch you or the other girls.

The music starts playing so you begin your planned dance. You’ve got this beat down like the back of your hand at this point, but it still gets the same praise from the first time you performed it. You hook your leg over the pole in the middle of the stage and swing around it before dipping down. Whistles sound from all over the room but you focus on the bright lights to distract yourself.

You don’t like to look in the crowd because the men who watch you are predators. They think all women are beneath them and you can usually tell who has bad intentions with the way they’re looking at you. However, this time, you scan the crowd. Most of the men are wearing fake suits to look expensive while some of them are silent partners. They’re the ones who sit in the corner, drink their bottom-shelf whiskey, and just enjoy the show.

There is one person in particular that catches your eye. Someone you know and work with. That’s been your fear while working in the entertainment industry. You’ll be doing a dance seductively and end up seeing someone you know in the crowd. However, this person isn’t just a person you know… he’s your crush.

Bucky Barnes. What the hell is he doing here? You’re going to be sick. You have to remain professional and finish your dance without letting Bucky mess you up. He knew you worked as a stripper and a dancer but he never really saw you in action. He respected your privacy too much to watch you while you’re at work. However, there is a mission and he was sent to come grab you.

Even if you weren't a stripper, he still thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world. He loves the way your body is shaped and the kind of personality you have. The best part of your body is your legs. He has a weakness for women’s legs, and yours is no exception. He tries not to let his mind wander to what could happen if he allows himself to enjoy this so he quickly looks away from you to give you some sort of privacy.

As soon as your dance is done, you quickly leave the stage and go back to the dressing room. You bypass the vanity and straight to the trash can. You grab it and immediately throw up into it from nerves and shock. Your spit dissolves the bottom of the trash can so that the contents spill out of it and onto the floor.

“Shit,” you gasp and look around the room for something to clean it up.

Not only do you have magical wings you can sear onto your back like a tattoo, but you have acid saliva. Most days you can control the acidity of it but when you’re highly nervous and in a panic, you can’t control it. You can still do other things like kissing and such since you can control your acid to make it so that it’s not lethal or dangerous to humans at all.

Bucky follows you backstage and notices you in the corner trying to clean your mess. He sees the wings on your back and wishes they were out. He loves the sight of your wings. They look like an insect’s wings but you make it work. He sees your robe hanging on the coat hanger next to the door and grabs it to cover you up.

You get up and turn but jump when you see Bucky standing in the doorway. You use your hands to try and cover yourself but it’s not working.

“Oh, I didn’t see you there,” you stutter.

“Here,” he offers and wraps the robe around your body.

“Thanks,” you whisper and pull it tight against your body. “What are you doing here?”

“Steve asked me to bring you in.”

“Oh. He could have called,” you say and tuck your hair behind your ear.

“Not where he is, no. I’m sorry for barging in on you but I wouldn’t have unless it was important.”

“Right. Um, what’s the mission?”

“I’ll tell you on the way.”

“Let me get dressed.”

Bucky turns to leave the dressing room to give you some privacy but stops at the door.

“When are you going to quit your job? You didn’t look happy up there.”

“What else am I gonna do? My powers get me in trouble. Men seem to love my tattoo and my manager says I wouldn't fit in anywhere else.”

“I know this isn’t my place, and feel free to tell me to fuck off, but what he says is complete bullshit. Tony has a facility. He’ll help you control your powers. I, for one, think that your wings are better out than hidden. We’ll take care of you. I’d hate to see you waste your life away here. You’ve got a beautiful one and this place isn’t helping you.”

With that, he leaves. Your cheeks heat up and a smile works its way onto your face. Your tattoo magically comes to life and your wings manifest as real ones attached to your back. They flutter happily and you chuckle at their enthusiasm.

“Okay, calm down. Maybe he does have a point.”

Maybe Bucky has a point. You’re miserable here whether you make good money or not. It’s time to let your wings free and soar to your highest potential.

x

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[yanderenightmare]

BakuDeku x darling

TW: NSFW, yandere, noncon/dubcon, omegaverse/hybrid au, size difference, pet-play, predator x prey, collaring, handcuffing, oral, anal, rimming, sextoys, breeding idealizations, this is straight up filth alone

Your fear tastes so good – layered thickly in the air – so sweet in their mouth it’s almost painful how hungry it makes them – seeped and soaked and stained on the bed where they keep you collared and leashed for their own personal use.

You drive them both wild with your aroma and all your cute little struggles where you try so adorably to shove them away and crawl out of their reach. It’s never any use, and yet you still try despite being so stupidly small beneath them – so tiny it only takes one of their hefty hands to have you completely overpowered.

But they’re as sweet as they can be – as sweet as your smaller body allows them to be when it so obviously isn’t meant to take their thicker fatter meaner cocks in its petite little holes – prepping you on tongues and big fingers and toys until you’re as loose as you get before stuffing you with something that’s always going to be too big for you.

They have to tie your hands to something – where despite them being fruitless in their effort, they can become bothersome to leave free – often attaching them to the loop in your collar, so you keep them to yourself all cutely while they mark you with their fangs – making you into a pretty artwork with coarse fingers rubbing your perky little nipples into sore nubs.

You’re really just too cute; it’s cruel – looking up at them with those adorably big eyes and that button nose wrinkling on each little sniffle when you beg them to let you go. Lop-ears sadly framing your face – so soft in their hands and so sensitive it makes you bite your lip all preciously each time they give them a little nibble.

You sob under their touches – knees shaking – as Bakugou laps at your clit with chin stubble spikey against your puffy lips, gnawing some on the swollen flesh while sucking on you. His thick and eager tongue paints through your slit again and again and again on an unrelenting repeat – similar to the eager tail whipping behind him – swallowing all your juice down – growling ferally at the maddening taste while your thighs sweetly tremble around his jaw.

Deku bites on the plump of your ass, leaving spotted rings in the flesh. Cupping your buttcheeks – fully fitting in the palms of his mighty hands – he cards his claws into the fat and spreads them wide open for an attack on that pretty tight little ring hidden between them. You always whine so sweetly for him – your cute fluffy cottontail doing a little dance while he circles your rim with his tongue – warning you of what’s to come later in the day when he’s finally had the taunt hole fully stretched and as ready as it gets to take all of his fat meat.

He moans into you while thinking about it – about your cute bunny butt swallowing his knot and being blown full of his thick creampie. Going livid at the mere thought alone – his cock bobs impatiently against his abs while he forces restraint upon himself – knowing how if he tries splitting your poor little butt on his pole now, he’d most likely tear you apart.

Instead, he amuses himself by prodding the pretty hole with the tip of a very special golden carrot – fresh batteries turning your rim numb while he slides ring after thicker ring inside you until you close around the tuft of golden leaves at its end. Tugging on his cock impatiently, he places his head – fluffy pointy ear-down upon your belly – listening to the drums echo inside you as he turns the vibrations up high enough to feel it through your skin. 

Of course, he wants to make sure that his precious little bunny is prepped and ready before subjugating you to a nice close butt-fuck – being kind enough to satisfy himself with your mouth until then – making you cry and choke around his thickness, swallowing his cock down your tight throat until your little nose burrow in the dark green curls around his base – watching the pretty furrow between your brows beg for air as your eyes roll back and turn white with desperation.

He lets you eat his ass as mercy once you’ve choked him down long enough – to the point you’ve lost your pretty voice – holding you tight by the base of your lop-ear to make sure you don’t faint – thinking that there's nothing cuter than spitting on your chubby bunny-face while you dizzily comfort yourself by rubbing sweetly against his balls and taint. Messaging the softness of your ear, you only sob when he cups the back of your skull and starts lolling your wet teary lips against his rim – hearing him moan loudly when you’re finally coaxed into laying sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to his needy hole after he’s pulled enough on your ear to make you fear it tearing off – grabbing your skull and pushing you deeper when you so cutely listen to him tell you to slip it your pretty pink little tongue.

Bakugou also likes using your mouth on him. But rather than a deep-throat or a sloppy rim – he likes dipping his heavy balls in your tiny mouth, likes it when you kiss on them and ask for the cum stored inside – sliding your little hot tongue over them until they drip with your drool – having you lipping and mouthing the spine of his shaft – sliding it between your plump lips until making you take his head inside and lick the slit clean of his salty precum.

But more than childsplay with his cock on your cute face, he likes making you moan and cream on his dick – entirely obsessed with fucking your pretty pussy full of him – in pushing so deep he enters that special extra space reserved just for him and him alone – the one that has you screaming and shaking in uncontrollable spasms as you clamp down hard around him.

It feels extra sweet after Deku’s plugged your ass and turned up the vibrations – he feels it through the wall separating the holes and likes leaving his cock inside you for longer digs just to feel it strum all the way through to his core – he holds it there – completely sheathed down to the base, bottomed-out with his knot swelling up inside you, pumping you full of his hot cum before sloshing out – leaving you panting and twitching.

Pussy fluttering around his absence – he inspects you to see how good he has your tiny bunny-cunt stretched – grin widening in the same fashion when seeing how much of his cum your tightness pushes out before he fucks it right back inside you again.

It’s when you go numb – devoid of struggles and trembles with only a few shocks still ricocheting through you – that Deku finally kisses your cheek and forehead and lips and nose and chin while slowly pulling the carrot plug out of your stretched butt. 

He looks into the hole, smiling at the sight of it gaping for him – receiving a big blob of his spit – winking up at him like it can’t wait to be taken by his big dick. Putting four fingers inside the soreness, he tests to see how you react – cooing at you when all you do is moan tiredly in return.

He takes it slowly – pinching your buttcheeks in big hands while the hole swallows up his cockhead, encouraging you with softly belittling words – telling you that you’re such a good anal pet for him – such a good little bunny-butt – taking his cock all the way deep inside, letting him bottom-out with his knot getting thick inside you.

And Bakugou’s grip on you only tightens when he feels Deku’s member slide up and down alongside his on the other side of the thin wall separating them – completely mesmerized by the big belly bulge the two of them are making in your little body – taken and riveted by the thought of breeding you despite knowing that it would be impossible for you to carry either of their pups. 

None of it keeps him from emptying the full value of his balls inside you for the umpteenth time while Deku does the same in your tight butt – the both of them slobber at your neck while messaging you with big hands on your tits and hips, hissing out carnivorous desires your feeble constitution doesn’t understand before they sink their teeth down hard into the soft flesh of your vulnerable neck – claiming you as both their pretty little prey and silly little mate.

continuation

tip-jar: Kofi

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

What do you think of Toph becoming a cop in LoK?

I'm not sure if I have too many thoughts about it.

The thing about LoK is that there's such a large gap between when we see the characters of the original show to when we see some of them as adults (Aang of course being dead). There's so much that happened to them in the meantime that I guess for me it's a moment of "Alright, Toph becomes a cop I guess."

I do think she would seek a career or employment of some type and would rail against being a diplomat (far too similar to her homelife in the decorum and manners and political weasling required). She'd like being a cop in this brand new city where there's none of the old things tying her down, she can train her own group of benders, and she's doing good in her own straight forward way.

I think it makes sense in that the others all have roles of some kind. Suki is a Kyoshi Warrior, Sokka and Katara are children of the southern tribe Chieftan and have relations to repair with the Fire Nation as well as the North Pole, Aang is of course the Avatar himself, Zuko is now Fire Lord, Toph is the only one who doesn't have a set position and has to find something for herself to do in the quickly changing new world order. This keeps her connected with her friends in their new city they're working on building up and is a role she'd like to fulfil.

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 5: Oliver's Shower

Masterlist

September 1925

TW: Restraints, slavery, non-sexual nudity, mind control

Apparently satisfied with the results of their medical exam, Cecily unhooked Oliver's leash from the pole. "All right, let's get you cleaned up," she said.

Oliver's breath hitched, not keen to be hosed down by vampires. "My hygiene is impeccable."

"It actually is, compared to many humans I've processed," she agreed. "But it's standard procedure."

Thomas unlocked the door, and Oliver had a brief impulse to try and bolt for it, but with Cecily holding his leash there wasn't any point. He had already vowed to himself to save his strength, but it was hard to squash down the increasingly frantic voice in his mind that wanted freedom, wanted to return to his life as though this had all been a nightmare.

Cecily led him down the sterile hallway to another door, which opened to a tiled shower room. It was neatly kept, with squeaky clean tiles, fat bars of peppermint pink soap, and towels piled up on a shelf. She attached Oliver's handcuffs to a kind of locking contraption on the wall, and removed his leash, giving him some respite from the uncomfortable collar.

Oliver closed his eyes as she turned on the spray. It was freezing cold, causing him to yelp, but turned pleasantly warm in a few moments. He took a deep breath, trying to derive some small enjoyment from the warm shower. Who could say when he'd have another?

Taking one of the bars of soap and a cloth in hand, Cecily began to scrub him from head to toe, all business, a bit rough but nothing that uncomfortable. She rubbed soap into his hair and rinsed it out again. Oliver said nothing, trying to block this humiliation from his mind as much as possible, trying not to think about how he was being washed like a piece of fruit for a vampire's snack.

One final rinse, and the shower was turned off, and he was being dried off with a big, fluffy towel. He stood there, shivering, for a few minutes, wondering what was going to happen next. The sudden, terrifying thought occurred to him that they might simply leave him naked for captivity and auction. That was when Cecily returned with a tape measure. 

"Stand up straight and be still," she said, taking his height. "It's so we can get you properly fitting clothing, so it's in your best interest to cooperate."

"I already had properly fitting clothing. You burned it," he said, nevertheless acquiescing to her command, relieved to be getting clothes.

She measured him tip to toe, from waist to foot, the length of his arms, and around his chest and waist. Then she walked away and hit a button on the wall. 

"This is Cecily in Shower Room One with Lot Seven. Need medium size uniform and one for backup."

"Uniform. Like a prison," he said.

"Obviously. You are a captive here," she said. "But we do want you to be in good condition for the auction, so you won't be treated poorly."

"Kidnapping me, handcuffing me and stripping me down is a strange definition of not treating me poorly."

"It could be much worse."

"Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night? If you were actually once a hunter, then you know..."

"I don't expect you to understand," she interrupted. "I didn't, either, until I was turned. The hunger for blood. The power we hold over humans. It's either feed or die."

Oliver, naked and handcuffed, mustered up as much defiance as he could. "Then I would choose to die."

She laughed. "Many say that. Few actually mean it. I doubt you'd be any different," she said. "This auction is actually frequented by the more ethical vampires. Better to purchase a processed human fairly than violently ambush humans in the streets. Good humans are expensive, so it's in a vampire's best interest to keep their thralls in decent shape. There are exceptions, of course, vampires who buy humans to abuse them, but they're the minority."

"That's what you call ethical? Buying a human slave? Doing the bare minimum to keep them alive?"

"That's right."

"Then you're right. I don't understand. And I'm glad everyone here is going to hell. I only wish it were sooner."

"The auction house has been here since before you were born and it'll be here long after you die, so I wouldn't hold your breath on that," she said.

He didn't really doubt that she was right. "So how about you? Do you have a human slave, then?"

"I have two thralls."

"What do you imagine the difference between a thrall and a slave is?"

"A thrall has been properly processed and conditioned to serve a vampire."

"And that makes it better?"

"It's better for us."

"And what does this conditioning entail?" 

"You'll see soon enough."

Oliver groaned in frustration. There wasn't a shred of empathy left in her, former vampire hunter or no. It was disturbing how much she could talk and act like an ordinary human while casually discussing processing and conditioning him to serve a vampire. It was all so simple and easy to them, and the reality that he was next was sinking in deeper. There might be no miraculous rescue or opportunistic escape. They might simply process, condition, and sell him, his life turned into a commodity.

"So your thralls, do you imagine you treat them well?"

"Of course. They're my precious pets. They get plenty of food and sunlight and entertainment. They do housework, provide me with blood, and accompany me on trips. I dress them in fine clothes and they have their own beds."

"How lovely," Oliver spat. "A cross between a servant and a dog."

Before Cecily could respond, a burly man opened the door and shut it behind him. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, and he was carrying a pile of clothes. He bowed. "The uniform you requested, Mistress Cecily," he said.

Oliver's eyes went wide. "Are you a human? A thrall?"

The man didn't acknowledge Oliver's question at all. "Yes, he's a thrall of the auction house," Cecily explained. "Now I'm going to remove your cuffs so that we can dress you. This thrall is instructed to stop you if you get out of line."

"You'd stop a fellow human from escaping?" Oliver asked the man, who didn't even glance his way.

"Well, thrall, would you stop a fellow human from escaping?" Cecily repeated. 

"Of course, Mistress Cecily. Preventing the merchandise from leaving is one of my primary duties. Any human would be blessed to be made into a high quality thrall by the auction house."

Oliver felt sick. This man had no free will at all, any mind he had left devoted to sending other humans to meet a terrible fate. Would this be him in a scant few days? A polite and mindless servant to the auction house? He couldn't let that happen -- but then, he had no doubt that this man had resisted as well, and here he was.

"Now then, please do behave," said Cecily, unlocking his cuffs. "Remember that I only gave you one chance."

Oliver fought down the urge to run, spurred on by his terror at seeing an actual human thrall. Any chance of escape was blocked by a vampire, a mindlessly subservient man twice his size, a locked door, and whatever other security the auction house had. And Cecily had threatened to drug him if he tried. He had to keep his mind as long as he could.

Cecily handed him soft cotton shorts and undershirt, a loose white blouse and blue slacks, and a pair of surprisingly comfortable thick woolen socks. No belt or shoes. He put it all on without a fuss, happy at least to be clothed again.

"Very good!" she said, clapping her hands. "If you continue to behave this well, I won't need to leash or cuff you."

"I'll behave," he said immediately. Better to stay unrestrained for now then pick a pointless fight.

"Then let's get you to a cell," she said. "Dinner will be served soon, and I'm sure you're tired after all of this."

Oliver let out a bitter laugh. "Sure." He was exhausted, but could hardly imagine sleeping in a place like this, and he had no appetite at all. It must be past midnight by now -- but that made sense as the time when vampires would serve dinner.

"Follow me," she said, and he fell into step behind her as she left the room, the man trailing behind him. They walked to the end of the hall, turned left, and arrived at a set of metal double doors, which opened onto a wide hallway lined with what could only be described as prison cells.

His new home for now, he supposed.

Part Four >> Masterlist >> Part Six