#let’s just say it was an enchantment table fuck up that caused it

[quarterlifekitty]

Promethean

Fuckboy!Soap x shy!reader x Ghost p.3

Soap likes to think of himself as someone who’s not just a fuckboy.

But it’s hard to think that when, right now, he’s literally checking his phone more often than he did when nana was touch-and-go in the hospital, with his train line experiencing heavy delays from inclement weather.

He tilts the screen to his face for the thirtieth time in the last two minutes. Nothing.

Well, not nothing. There’s never nothing. Social media alerts. Hearts in games refilled. Reminders of all the shit he’s left in his cart across various shopping apps.

The emails. My god, the emails…

But it may as well be empty, seeing as the one thing he wants to see isn’t there.

The fuck was your problem, lately? Not responding to his texts when he used to see the read checkmark within thirty seconds alongside a typing bubble. Yeah maybe he’s not your boyfriend, and he doesn’t act all lovey dovey the way you want him to when he fucks you, and he doesn’t even look at you when he passes you on campus, and he typically ignores it when you say hey— that kinda hurts, and….

Whatever. He’s not the one under examination here. You’re being the problem right now.

He should move down the contact list. He has options.

But first he needs to figure out what the fuck is going on with you. It’s gonna drive him crazy. He has a beautiful mind, that way. Should’ve been a detective.

His first clue comes with your next class together, right at the start of the week. It’s a little colder. The heat in this wing of the building has been kinda spotty at best. He himself is wearing pants longer than basketball shorts, which is cause to alert the media.

You’re wearing something big and faded and black. It swallows you. It’s familiar. There’s some cracked, plastic design on the front that used to be a logo, probably. But maybe it’s familiar because you’ve worn it before— it’s not like he’s really paid much attention to what you’ve worn in the past, not unless it was short or low cut.

Simon’s been around the house even less than usual. And when he is home, the door to his room is closed. Weird, considering he’s always been one of those door-open freaks. Whatever, maybe he’s taken up jacking off more lately. God knows he’s never let Johnny set him up with someone.

You’ve been different. Smiley. Not that Soap would know or anything. But your errant behavior warrants a closer look. Tapping away at your phone under the table. Rushing out of class like you have somewhere to be. Almost skipping.

Maybe he’d gotten a little too lax with baiting you. Needed to recast the enchantment. Make you remember what you were clinging to hope for. Even the most reliable trap will fail if it’s not baited.

“Gonna be a rager this wknd at the house, bonnie. Wanna see u there <3”

He was flush with confidence. Even if you didn’t respond now— he’d see you there. Where else would you be on a Saturday night? You’re not the dating type.

Someone call the Audubon Society about this man, because when it comes to predicting the migratory patterns of birds, he’s always right. You’re there before the party is even in full swing. You’re wearing that black sweatshirt again— not the sexiest choice, but he can’t blame you for getting a little sloppy when he hasn’t been around to keep your back straight.

He puts on his best, wolfish grin and leans against the bannister of the staircase so that you won’t be able to help but—

Brush right past him. Up the stairs.

Straight to his room, then? Well, it had been a while since he’d given it to you, huh? Poor thing— suffering from withdrawals. Maybe that’ll teach you not to ignore him when he’s trying to magnanimously grace you with a dick appointment.

He follows, hot on your tail, just in time to feel the tickle of a breeze from the quick closing of a door.

And the door to his room stares back at him.

Wide open.

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: A new relationship means excitement, an uncontrollable craving for each other. When an early morning romp is interrupted with a scheduled weekly meeting, will you be able to keep your hands to yourself when Price begins to drone on? And if you can't, what will your lieutenant lover do once the meeting is over after you've tempted him for far too long?

Word Count: 7.8 k

Warnings:

“Come on, just a quickie before you gotta go,” you try to bargain as you roll onto your knees on the mattress, moving to straddle yourself over top of Simon’s lap so that he can’t get out of your bed yet. “Promise I'll make it worth your while.”

You sit on his thighs as you wrap your arms around his neck and he grabs onto your hips with those large hands, only his boxers and your panties keeping you apart. Gently you run your fingers through the short, dirty blonde hair at the back of his head before bending down to try enchanting him with your kiss to stay a little longer before you both have to start your day. You know if you can get him going, quick is the last thing it is going to be and all you want is more time in his company. It’s getting harder these days to let him go. 

Your lips meet and he sighs long and deep as he drinks you in. This new development in your relationship is only a couple months in the making, but you already have him in a chokehold that he can't seem to break free from. Goddammit your kiss is like heaven and he wants nothing more than to shove you back into the mattress and get lost in the ecstasy of your body all over again, but obligations of the job that you have so conveniently forgotten about are fast approaching this morning. As much as he hates it, clearly he’s going to have to be the responsible one. Christ, you aren’t making it easy when your pretty eyes are begging him for more as you pull agonizingly slow from his mouth and roll your hips over top of him. 

“We can’t,” he says with an agitated groan as he bites the corner of his lips so the pain will stop him from losing it and leaning back in; if he doesn’t show some restraint now it’s not going to happen. “Officer’s meetin’, ‘member? Don’t wanna start any rumors with our absence, do ya? Rather not have to have a discussion with Price today. So, ya best stop fuckin’ lookin’ at me like that ‘fore ya get us both in trouble. Cause ya know if I get started, I ain’t stoppin’.”

Fuck, is it that time of the week again already? You’ve nearly forgotten the date, so absorbed in having the hulking military lieutenant all to yourself over the weekend. Instantly your heart sinks as you realize that your request isn’t going to get fulfilled now, not if you want to keep this relationship on the down low. No, you don’t want your good thing ruined by stirring up trouble, no matter how much your body still trembles to be beneath him right now.

Fine, your hands are tied at this point, so you’ll just have to be strong and table this till later. Or at least… you’re gonna try. 

“Just can’t get enough of you,” you say, resigning defeatedly as you move to rest your forehead on his.

Eyes shut, he takes a few seconds just to enjoy the closeness with you before he speaks. “Later,” he reassures in a husky whisper. “Not like I can fuckin’ stay away from ya.”

A warm kiss is swiftly pinned to your temple and you sigh defeatedly before you move off of him to sit at his side. He gives you a look before he gets to his feet to find his clothes strewn about the floor, dressing as you watch on with hungry eyes until his body is covered once again. Instantly you are missing the sight of it now that it’s gone. Later already feels like a lifetime away as you fall back against your pillow with a groan and cover your eyes with your arm. 

The sounds of rustling clothes and the jingling of a belt buckle lasts just a few more seconds, followed by the sound of heavy steps before you feel a depression next to you on the bed. A rough hand removes your arm from your face and you are met with those coffee eyes and cheeky smile poking out from beneath his half pulled down mask as he leans over top of you. “See ya at the meetin’, luv,” he says before leaving you with a quick kiss as he rushes to get out the door before that one small action ruins it all and he ends up getting you both caught from sticking around too long.

You watch the door shut behind him and in the silence that follows you can hear the sound of your heartbeat throbbing in your head. How are you meant to keep it together now?

Getting dressed feels like an impossible chore, but eventually you finish and arrive at the conference room with a bit of time to spare before the meeting starts. You enter the space and are immediately dragged into making small talk with a few of the others standing around the conference table, exchanging pleasantries till Price arrives. The heat in your cheeks struggles to dissipate from the morning and it is only made worse as a tall, burly figure enters a couple minutes later and makes his way to the back of the room as if it’s nothing. Your vision constantly darts over to that masked man in the corner as you chat, your pulse keeping your face hot because you can tell that he is doing the same, though the shadow created from the fabric covering his face gives him the advantage in keeping his dark eyes on you.

Trying to force his sight not to linger on you today isn’t an option, not when he can see the product of his kiss still spread through your face. It’s captivating to be in the presence of something like that belongs to only him, so why the hell would he not want to soak you all in? It’s like he is hypnotized. He hasn’t felt like this in a long, long time and to say he isn’t a little obsessed would be a complete lie. Just looking at you gets his pulse racing now and it’s almost instantaneous how he has to adjust the crotch of his pants as they have suddenly gotten a little tight as his body reacts to the sight of yours.

He’s gotta snap out of his insatiable craving right now or this meeting is going to be brutal to try and get through. Moving to the back of the table, he takes his seat to hide the bulge growing in his pants. That’s when a familiar voice rings through the room just the same as it has week after week and Simon feels like he can breathe a little easier.

“Mornin’ everyone,” the distinct voice of your superior is heard over the small crowd. “Let’s get started, shall we. Got things to do.”

Captain Price doesn’t waste any time, arriving precisely on the hour just as he always does and everyone immediately takes their seats just like clockwork. Good, now all he has to do is get through the hour and then you’ll go your separate ways until the end of the day. However, as he looks on as the chairs around the table get filled, he realizes that your usual seat towards the front already has a body sitting in it that isn’t yours and the only free chair left is at the back of the table right next to him.

Your eyes meet and your breath hitches as you see the empty spot beside him and it feels like you can’t get enough oxygen as you make your way over; no sense in prolonging your agony. Simon’s shoulders stiffen as you take your seat, the tension caused from your proximity making his mind hazy, even before Price begins to drone on about nothing of major significance. It’s all just daily reports and mandated updates from around the base, so it doesn’ take long before it all becomes background noise to the beating of his heart in his ears. 

You aren’t fairing any better as your mind begins to wander and it’s in that loss of attention that the trouble starts to brew. 

Sensory-filled memories of the past couple of nights play through your mind on repeat: sweaty, tangled limbs, burning kisses that steal your breath, ecstasy filling you up until all you can do is lay back and let it consume you; it’s the type of euphoria that could make you an addict if you're not careful enough. The vivid sensations associated with the images flooding through your mind chip away at your calm so that about halfway in your sanity has deteriorated. 

You cross your knees over one another and clamp your legs together to stop the ache blossoming between your thighs, but it does nothing to help. You have to do something to ease the agony because you cannot squeeze your legs together any tighter or the danger of you accidentally letting out a moan will become a real threat. Desperately your eyes dart around the room to try and focus on anything in particular, but there is nothing that grabs their attention until they stop back at the table in front of you and out of the corner of your sight you notice the top of Simon's thigh peeking out from under the table. Those juicy bits of his body that you know intimately as they have been pressed between your legs before are a magnet for your sight and suddenly there is a need that is awakened in you.

Fuck, now you have a new problem. The longer you look, the harder it gets. Imagination isn't enough anymore. Shoving your hands into the tight space between your crossed legs you try to bury the feeling, but your desire pleads with you to reach over and get a feel.

Just a little touch won’t hurt, right? 

He probably won’t even notice if you are careful enough, at least that's what you try to convince yourself of so you don't sound so fucking desperate. Maybe giving yourself a little treat will help ease the pain enough that you can move on. As Simon leans back in his chair, trying to adjust his position to keep himself focused on Price, you take that as a sign that you should just go for it.  

Simon notices the way you shift in your seat, inching in closer to the edge of the chair nearest his side. You pause for a few seconds before he catches you moving again and now your shoulders are almost touching. He wonders what you’re up to getting this intimate, but just as the question enters his mind more movement grabs his attention and he watches as you lean in and your shoulder twitches. Then he feels it, a delicate bit of pressure on his thigh that immediately sends him spiraling.

You have reached over and are now running your fingertips over the outer seam on the leg of his pants, but the moment you make the slightest contact with him a yearning blossoms in your chest so strong that you can’t stop yourself and your fingers begin to wander thoughtlessly. Soon you find your touch on the outer edge of his thigh and then the middle and still you can’t force yourself to stop.  

Simon risks a look down into the shadow underneath the table only to see your arm stretched out and your hand creeping in towards the middle of his lap. He pries his sight back up and catches you peeking over at him from the corner of your eye. Your gazes meet and your chest begins to rise and fall more heavily than it had a few seconds ago as you shoot him a tempting look.

Oh, so this is what’s going to happen today; his strength of will is going to be tested. Fuck.

Carefully and quietly, Simon repositions himself in his seat. Without turning his face at all, he inclines his head to the side so that it is nearly pressed against yours. “Ya sure ya wanna start this?” he growls his question in a whisper near your ear, yet he does nothing else as he sits back up straight. 

Your hand continues on undeterred and makes it in between his thighs without any resistance; it’s clear that neither of you were finished with what was trying to be started this morning as a small peak already meets your hand before you’ve even done anything.   

Simon exhales a shaky breath as your hand makes contact with the crotch of his pants and it takes all his willpower to hold steady as you run your hand over the mound just under the zipper. Thank God he’s wearing his jacket today, otherwise the way his chest starts to heave with each labored breath as you stroke your palm consistently over the swell would give him away to everyone here. Behind the mask, his mouth hangs open slightly as he forces himself to quietly pant as if under duress. 

Being this close to him, you can hear the change in his breathing and those subtle deviations in his respiration guide your movements further. You press down and he has to bite his lip until he tastes that first bit of copper to keep himself under control. And yet he doesn't pull your hand away… because he doesn't want to. His pretty thing needs to feel him, he isn’t going to deny that. It’s a risk, but it’s one he is more than willing to take just to keep you locked in this moment with him.

Over and over you go in with insatiable intent, stroking until the tip of his thick cock throbs with his pulse against your touch as a throbbing of your own. The sound of your captain is barely a faint whisper at this point as all of your  awareness is focused solely in the silent tension shared between you and your lover as your hand draws him closer and closer to release just from the pressure alone. 

The tingle in his lap radiates out in waves that make his limbs feel heavy and causes a cold sweat to break out across his skin and just as Simon thinks that he can’t take a second more of stimulation because he’s going to burst, the meeting finally comes to an end. Quickly you have to pull your hand back out of his lap as your fellow officers’ attentions are no longer focused towards the front of the room and you pray that they can’t see the way your body shudders. 

You don’t dare get out of your seat yet; at this point your legs are like jelly and you are sure that if you try to stand you will make a fool of yourself by stumbling around. Instead, you pull out your phone to pretend you are making a note of something important as everyone leisurely files out until all that is left is you and Simon in the empty room. 

He hasn’t said a word since his cautionary question, instead moving out of his seat the moment he could to lean up against the wall near the door with his arms crossed over his broad chest. The last person makes it out and yet he’s still standing there soundlessly as if he is waiting for something, his shadowed gaze locked onto your form. 

Eventually you calm yourself enough to make it out of your seat and back onto your feet without falling. You take a few steps to leave and you nearly make it out of the room before the door is promptly pushed shut in your face and Simon places himself directly between you and the exit. Instantly you are stopped in your tracks and you stand there curiously as that familiar click from the lock being engaged is heard and the room falls silent, not even the sound of people coming and going can be heard on this side of the door. 

“What was that, hmm?” he asks in fake anger, his bright eyes giving him away even with the mask covering the majority of his features.

You shrug. “What are we talking about?” you ask in return with a tilt of your head. Ever the little actress, it seems.

He chuckles deeply as a spark flashes through the irises of his eyes to make them shine the way an animal’s does before it goes in for the kill. You know exactly what that look means. “Playin’ games, are ya?” he asks. “Or did ya already forget the way you were just tryin’ to make me come?”

“Is there a problem?” you ask back as the corner of your lip upturns ever so subtly. 

He takes a step towards you and you move back with it; another and you do the same. This continues only a few more paces until you run out of space and back into the edge of the table, allowing Simon to move in without a problem until his body is within a few feet of yours. Reaching out with one of those large hands he wraps it around your wrist and pulls your arm forward into him. 

“Oh, we ‘ave a big fuckin’ problem now, sweet,” he groans as he takes your hand and pins the palm just to the side of the zipper on his pants. You don’t even have to look down to know what he’s talking about as there is a hard, stiff peak that meets your touch; the tip of his cock strains against your hand as he presses your palm down over it. “See what ya did?” 

An unintentional moan escapes your lips at the feeling that you try to disguise with a cough, but Simon has already caught it. With a hook of his thumb under the cloth of his mask, he pries it up off of his mouth and in the same motion he jerks your arm past his body to pull you in the miniscule distance still between you both so that you are now plastered to his chest. Since his mask isn’t an issue anymore, his hand captures your chin in its grip and he holds on firmly. 

The intense domination of the movement feels like an ambush on your sanity and with that one simple motion he already has your heart fluttering just like he wants. You’ve played your little game and gotten him riled up, and it’s got him craving you so bad he can hardly keep his thoughts straight. Now it’s his turn at it and he isn’t going to stop until he has chipped away at your resolve so that you want him just as badly. 

Keeping his grip tight on your chin he cocks your head to the side to move it out of his way as he leans his face in towards the soft, tender skin that has been revealed to him just under your jawline. 

“Now, how’re we gonna fix this? Can’t go ‘round wit this thing at full attention,” his balmy breath travels over your skin as his lips rub along the side of your neck, the tip of his nose catching that sweet spot just behind your earlobe. 

The very faint stumble covering the lower half of his face prickles your skin as he presses his lips against you gently at first to let the feather-light pressure tantalize the flesh around that pulsing vein under your jawbone. He can feel it begin to race under his touch the quicker your heart pumps and he has to force himself to take a breath. To observe the physical reaction you have to him, to feel the way you come alive in his hands, it’s enough to bring him to his knees and if he isn’t careful he can easily lose himself.     

“Ya owe me–” he trails his kisses upward until his lips are pressed along your jaw “for–” those heated kisses keep going over the contour until he hovers right over your mouth, lips ghosting over yours just out of reach “–all that teasin’.”

You attempt to move in and collapse the distance between your mouths to zero, but his hold on your face keeps you at bay. Again you struggle to embrace his mouth and again he pulls you back and it’s clear what the game is now. If you want his kiss on your lips, you are going to have to meet his conditions. 

“What do you want?” you ask coyly as if there is anything else that he could possibly be after at this moment. 

Simon runs the tip of his stout tongue over the middle of his bottom lip as he stares at yours, the skin on your mouth growing redder with each erratic inhale of breath you take, before he drifts his gaze back up the short distance to your eyes. He admires how they shimmer with unspoken wants as he meets them again. 

You know full well that the door is locked, Simon is certain you heard him secure it since you were close. That means you both are cut off from the rest of the base while in here and with the meeting over, there is no reason for anyone to come around. The room is yours for as long as you want.

“Well, we’re all alone, luv,” he says. 

“Mmhmm,” you agree as if he’s asked a question.

Taking both his hands, he cradles the back of your head as his thumbs rest against your cheeks and he takes a step so that his hips block your body against the table. He inches in ever so carefully, making sure that his lips will not touch yours, but be just close enough that the agony caused from their proximity will make you fucking burn to feel them. It’s a game that he has perfected over his time with you and one he prides himself on being the master of. 

“Ya know what I fuckin’ want.” 

The heat from his warm breath wafts over your lips to make them tingle from the change in temperature. This close you can finally catch the scent of his natural musk mixing with the sharp notes of his spicy cologne and the smell reminds you of your sheets where the fragrance still lingers. It is overwhelming your senses until you feel delirious and out of control. 

“Wanna take ya on this fuckin’ table,” he breathes into your face in a growl the comes from somewhere deep inside. “Can’t wait.”

His voice is pure sex on a good day, but in these moments when his full attention is on you as he plays up the sultry notes of his tone to match his growing need, you can’t help the way you squeeze your legs together as a shudder of pleasure runs like icy water straight through to your core. 

“Undo - your - pants,” he orders, his deep, heavily accented voice breathy, but firm. “Now.”

Your pulse is pounding in your ears with your short, quick breaths and he takes the moment to tempt you further by having the tip of his tongue gracefully slither out of his mouth to catch the edge of your upper lip, lightly grazing the inner bit so that you shiver and it takes all your strength not to buckle at your knees and stumble in his grasp.  

Finally gaining control of your limbs through the haze spreading in your mind you move your hands over your abdomen, using touch alone to find the fastener at the front of your pants as he holds your head in place, forcing you to keep your eyes focused on him. Finally you locate the button and as swiftly as your shaky fingers can manage, you fidget with it till it opens and you can guide down the zipper. 

A ravenous grin spreads across Simon’s lips at the sound of your clothes being shed. It’s Pavlovian the way it immediately makes his mouth salivate with anticipation as he knows that soon he is about to enjoy a feast that includes all your delicious curves ready and begging for his special brand of ecstasy.

You’ve done what he’s asked and now you desperately want your reward, but you should know by now it isn’t going to be that easy. He is a man of mutual obsession and you’ve only barely just started to ache with the overwhelming intensity that he wants; he needs you in shambles just like he’s had to be this whole time as you stroked him under the table.  

“Please,” you plead tacitly as multiple words seem too cumbersome to have in your mouth.

Simon shakes his head. “Not yet. Push ‘em down,” he demands. “Take ‘em off.”   

You scramble to follow his dictation and grab onto the waistband of your pants, jerking them down over the curve of your rear and continuing until they are past your calves, slipping out of your boots so that you can step out of the fabric now bunched at your ankles. You stand back up straight and immediately those rough fingers are outlining the band on your panties just below the hem of your shirt and each time they graze over the tender skin of your pelvis, you gasp inaudibly into his face as the electricity from his touch makes your skin tingle. 

As one hand plays, the other that is cradled at the base of your skull draws your face to him. “Ya got me wantin’ ya so bad it fuckin’ stings,” he admits. “Is that what ya want, sweetheart? Ya want me a goddamn mess wheneva you’re around?”

His thumb tugs at the corner of your mouth as he drags it over your bottom lip and the action takes your breath so you have to forcefully catch it. “I want you to want me as bad as I want you,” you answer as your heartbeat hiccups in your chest.

Simon chuckles. “Greedy girl,” he says, drawing out the words, his voice getting more and more gravely. “Ya know how fuckin’ hard I was strugglin’ to not just throw ya on the table and take right there in front a everyone? Ya got me outta my goddamn mind insane for ya with just a touch.”

You look up at him with starry eyes, the kind of sight that makes him feel like you think he’s hung the fucking moon for you. “Take…me now…” you beg.

He can feel you tremble in his hands as you plead for your sanity and it pushes him to his breaking point. “That what ya want?” he asks. “Let me hear it, sweet.”

You nod without even having to think about it. “Please, Simon. Please. I haven’t stopped needin you since this morning. Just give it to me.”

Fuckin’ hell he is going to absolutely wreck you after that.

Tilting his head to one side he moves in and with a sharp inhale of breath before the plunge, he hauls your mouth to his and crashes his lips on yours. The deadly potency in his embrace knocks the little bit of air you just drew in from your lungs and in an instant you are left gasping for breath again while not wanting him to pull away.  

That huge, hulking body with all of its bulky muscles overwhelms your own as he pins himself harder against you, pushing your hips together to grind that stiff peak roughly against you with rocking movements, hips rolling into you again and again until you join him as your frantic fingers rip the jacket off his shoulders and down his arm so that you can feel his skin under your hands.   

His mouth is insatiable, stealing sloppy, desperate kisses one after another until your lips burn from the abrasion. The contrast between the rough way he embraces you with the delicately smooth feel of his lips is a sensory overload in the best way. Those long fingers of both of his hands are now tangled in the strands of your hair at the back of your head, not wanting to give you the chance to get away from the harshness of his lips as he claims your mouth as his. 

You match his energy and your fingers find the hem of his mask that still clings to his face and you slip them up underneath to pry it off the rest of the way so that you can caress the back of his head and make him buckle from the shiver as you run your fingertips over his scalp. He holds you tighter as a blunt grunt of pleasure vibrates up from his chest and he breathes it into your open mouth for you to swallow down. He is so caught up in the passion of the moment that he nips aggressively at your lower lip until you gasp as it stings so good. 

The warmth from his breath tingles along the raw skin of your mouth as he buries his nose in your cheek the harder he pushes in. No matter how close you are, it isn’t enough; he wants…no he needs to be closer. He isn’t sure yet if he likes being the type of man that goes feral with an insatiable appetite for his lover, but if you are going to be greedy with wanting his attention he is going to be greedy in the way he reciprocates it.

You are suddenly on the move as Simon easily slides his strong hands up under your arms and picks you up to set you on top of the sturdy table, tugging behind your knees to pull you forward so that you are at the very edge of the surface. You hadn’t realized how warm you are until the instant the cool table touches the bare skin on the back of your legs.

A hum vibrates in his chest as he rubs the length of your thighs before he lockes his hands around them to pry them apart and moving in with his palm, he slides it up into the crotch of your panties and cups his wide hand up over your sex.

“F-fuck,” you whimper as he presses down to pin your lips up into your clit. “I need…I need…”

“Whatcha need, sweet?” he asks through panting breaths as he pulls back and pushes in again, making you squeak out a high pitched whine. “Tell me, use your words.”

You swallow hard. “Need… your fingers…” you struggle to say as he does the same maneuver again.

“Does that sweet little clit need my attention?” he asks. “Achin’ for my touch? Ya think I should jus’ give it to ya after the mess ya made a me when I couldn’t even get at ya yet?”

He keeps his hand pinned down and the pressure makes your hips buck in reaction. “I know… I know…” you stammer out the sloppy confession as you fight to create any words at all. “Couldn’t help it.”

If he had been in a more calm state, he would have liked to tell you to get yourself started to see how you’d follow his directions, and then if you did a good enough job he would come in, but Simon wants to feel you just as much as you crave his touch. The strangle you have on his sanity is making him lose it fast and there isn’t much time he is going to be able to spare, but even in his inebriated state as he slowly drowns in your ecstasy, his mind concocts a devilish plan. 

Maybe he can have both his cake and finger it too.

Suddenly he takes your hand in his, wrapping his larger one over top while making you match the way his two middle fingers stick out with yours, and forces them both to descend down the tingling skin of your lower abdomen into the front of your underwear as he rests against you with foreheads touching. Working your combined fingers in tandem, Simon parts through the lips of your pussy and moves both sets right up against that tiny bundle of nerves just above your core.

“Already wet, pretty girl?” he groans with a hiss as his finger makes contact with a bit of warm moisture once inside. “Not enough, though. I want ya fuckin’ drippin’ for me. And we’re gonna do this how I want. Now we’re gonna make ya a mess so I don’t feel so alone.”

It hasn’t left his mind that this isn’t the safest place to be, that even though the room is only used on those weekly occasions when Price gathers his personnel to keep everyone up to speed, even though the space is vacated and the door locked, there is no guarantee that someone won’t try and get in. He has to be quick, but he is going to do this right. 

Simon expertly guides your finger over your clit in that very distinct way that he does it, rubbing in concise circles over the nub with both of your fingers, using a bit of light pressure as your knees fall apart to give him more access and it doesn’t take long until your mouth falls open so that all those pretty sounds can escape unhindered just as you know he likes.

Their sound only adds fuel to his desire. Having him pilot your movements, forcing you to pleasure yourself under his control, adds another level of euphoria that he had not previously thought possible. Fuck, does he feel powerful to take you like this, both of you working together until your wetness dribbles down his fingers as the heat warms his hand.  

His face is so close to yours that he can use your breath to fill his lungs as he runs out of air; the only thing he wants to sustain his life at this moment. Breathing you in, tasting you, feeling you; he only wants to be consumed by you like a man possessed. He has never needed anyone in the way he needs you and the more he causes you to sing, the more he has to be sure that no one else can ever satisfy you the way that he can. It’s his mission now to completely ruin you for anyone else.

Your legs start to shake as the pressure continues to build from the sensitivity and your calves crush his hips as a pitiful whimper you let out sends him over the edge and drives him insane in his already weakened state. There is no stopping the feral part of his brain from taking over to guide his movements and suddenly your clit isn’t the only thing he wants to play with; he needs to fill you.

You can feel your hand on the move, slithering down until the tips of both your fingers reach your entrance. And quickly they ascend up into you to stretch you out as your legs vibrate, the flood of blood to your cheeks making your face burn like you’re on fire as he keeps shoving up inside until he reaches the amalgamation of your combined knuckles. He keeps his eyesight down to watch the way your hands make your panties bulge as your pussy is filled with the both of you.

The unexpected fullness causes your back to arch and your head to fall back as you struggle to stifle a desperately loud cry from being stretched. Instantly Simon drags your head up and harshly connects your lips with overwhelming savagery to stop the sound from getting out, sucking it down his throat with his mouth pressed to you so securely as you continue to groan in short bursts until you finally are able to calm yourself enough to keep your volume down.  

Your body grips both of your fingers tight as he begins to rhythmically work at your G spot with rough and intense movements, unable to calm down. The harder he goes the more dampness covers the fingers inside you and it drips down onto the back of his hand and begins to stick to the inside of your thighs. Your walls flutter around his fingers the more they swell and that lets him know that you’re close. His pulse is racing to feel it, that moment you come; no single sensation ever gives him more pleasure than being the reason you fall apart.

Your hips begin to grind onto your hands for more friction. “Fuck…fuck…” you mutter in agony under your breath. It’s nearly there, just a bit more. 

Stroking and grinding, stroking and grinding, it feels like an eternity stuck at the edge of that cliff as the warmth gathering in the pit of your stomach grows in intensity, but suddenly and without warning, like a wave washing over you, that warmth reaches its peak and shoots through you as you fall over the edge.  

Simon makes you ride out your orgasm on your fingers until you settle and only then does he gently pull your hands out from your still quivering core and up out of your panites, never letting you go. He holds them up and your fingers glisten with the product of his work under the fluorescent lighting. After taking a few seconds just to admire the way they look he locks eyes with you and holds your gaze as he brings those coated digits on your hand straight up to his mouth and sucks them inside that wet cavern. He uses his tongue to swirl around your fingers to clean them, sucking on them thoroughly to get all the taste of you off and you nearly faint from the erotic nature of his action. 

The way he has no shame when it comes to enjoying every bit of you is staggering to behold. He is insatiable and you can’t get enough.

Giving your hand back, Simon steps up right against you between your legs as his hand slips between your bodies and he shifts his hips slightly so that he can undo his belt buckle, then the button on his jeans, and finally pull down the zipper. Sticking his hand inside the shadowed recesses of his boxers, he pulls out and releases that thick, veiny appendage that has been throbbing for far too long without relief. It stands at attention and bobs with his pulse, a mouth-watering view of all that girth ready just for you. 

The knuckle of his finger bushes over your still overly sensitive cunt as he hooks the digit into the seam at the crotch of your ruined panties and jerks them to the side out of his way before the tip of his cock presses into your petals. So slowly he guides himself past that first barrier in through your lips and carefully he strokes his cock in your cum, coating himself in the heated moisture his touch produced. 

Calloused fingers suddenly divide through the strands of your hair at the back of your head so that his grip is securely woven into you as the others dig into your hip. “You drive me wild, pretty girl,” he says with covetous aggression, “but if ya ain’t careful, I may not be able to contain myself like I did today. So unless ya want me ta fuck ya in front a everyone, you’re gonna wait till we’re alone to start things, yeah?”

You nod in agreement.

“Then I’ll make sure ta get ya so fuckin’ good,” he whispers as he pulls out just enough so that he adjust himself to align his swollen tip with your entrance. “Won’t let ya go till you’re satisfied, promise.” 

He prods against the opening, pushing up against it until you feel drunk on the feeling of anticipation as you wait impatiently for when he finally thrusts hard enough to get all that girth in. “Lift your hips,” he hurriedly demands and you lean back on your hands to help angle your pelvis upward.

Those coffee-colored eyes meet yours one last time as his hand gives your hair a tug. “Let’s finish this right, yeah?” he breathes and his hips snap forward as he pulls yours down.

The moment the tip breaks through the threshold of your body you both involuntarily share a gasp between your open mouths. You are so wet and clearly more than ready to take him, but he still has to pace himself getting in or else he’s going to come before he’s had a chance to really fuck you good. Still your body sucks him in every single inch he gives you until he reaches the base of his shaft where he pauses. 

The width of his cock pushes against your walls until they form around the contours perfectly and his hand on your hip burrows harder into the skin in an attempt to let any other feeling get through the overwhelming sensation of being inside you so that he can last. He focuses back on your face where your eyes are shut tight and something about that just won’t do. He wants those blown-out pupils that rest behind closed lids to be fixated on him as if he is the only thing in the entire fuckin’ world that you crave to look at.

Because you are the only thing in his.  

“Eh, eyes on me, sweet,” he growls desperately to get your attention back. “Need ta fuckin’ see ‘em. That’s it, just like that.”

You open your eyes and your aching gaze renders Simon speechless. How in the fuck did he get so lucky to call you his and why in the hell didn’t he make that happen sooner? Without any more of a pause he begins to thrust in and out of you with a ferocity that makes your body burn as his desire overtakes him. Each stroke stretches you out more until the sting subsides and all that’s left is the satisfying euphoria that comes with being filled so full.

Your cheeks feel like they are glowing and on fire as thrusts after thrust he pounds into you, stretching you and filling you to the brim on all of his passion for your body as the sound of slapping skin against skin fills the silent space, accentuated by the sound of threads snapping as your panties are stretched to the point of ripping. Panting heavily into your face with mouth open, chest heaving up and down with laborious breaths, Simon unleashes himself upon you.

“Fuck,” he says, jaw hanging slack with desire, “wish ya could see how pretty ya look right now.”

Harder and harder he thrusts into you until the table begins to rock with him as he shoves his fat cock as far up into you it almost hits the back of your cervix. He desperately tries to keep the pace even, but it is reaching the point of no return.  

“Ya feel so fuckin’ good, baby,” he stutters with a groan low and guttural as he starts the feel that pressure again building at the base of his spine, ready to shoot through him at any second of he keeps this up. “So fuckin’ good. Can’t ever get enough of ya.”

You buck against him, meeting his movements with your own as you use your legs wrapped around his hips as leverage. The risky nature of your triste barely registers anymore as the stimulation from his cock hitting that sweet spot over and over again inside you clouds all your thoughts except one: the need to come. And it is fast approaching the longer he goes until it is right fucking there; all he has to do is keep going.

“Shit, don’t stop Simon,” you plead in distress to him, your toes curling into the air as you focus on your erratic breathing. 

“Tha’s it, sweet, come for me,” he growls, “Come all over my fuckin’ cock.” 

His pace is relentless as he pumps with those powerful thrusts that bury him deep within you, unyielding and relentless with his need to render you completely satisfied. And just like that everything comes to a head with a shudder as your orgasm rockets through you fiery hot, making your body writhe in his grasp. You squeak out in a whine before you clamp your lips together tight to make sure you can stay as quiet as you can as you ride out the depth of your pleasure on his cock. God, it doesn’t stop, second after second it just keeps building stronger and stronger. Simon does not let up and soon you are whining from the over-stimulation.

He isn’t far behind though and it doesn’t take many more strong thrusts until the warmth that had been building to this point twice now finally shoots through his body, coursing like a burning river of fire through his veins as he rips his cock out of you and through your thighs as he pulls up your shirt over your tits to cover your stomach in sticky semen as he comes hard.

Leaning forward, Simon opens his mouth and latches it fully onto your collarbone through the fabric of your shirt, digging his teeth into the muscle to keep himself quiet as he milks himself dry with your thighs. He grinds up into those juicy bits of your legs as he grunts laboriously into the muscle of your shoulder so that it vibrates from the intensity while his wide hips continue rolling upward until he has nothing left to give and his shoulders slump forward with exhaustion as he comes to a stop.   

The muscles of his arms are shaking as he releases your shoulder from his mouth. “Goddamn, sweetheart,” he says out of breath, wrapping his arms around you to hold you close, “I ain’t ever been to a meetin’ that ended this way, but Christ should they.” 

You chuckle as you incline up into his face to catch his mouth in your embrace. Releasing his lips, you are met with a contented smile as he strokes your cheek sweetly with his thumb. You both know you need leave, you’ve spent too much time here already, but Simon just can’t let you go. At least, not yet. Not when you look so good in that post-coital hazy state of bliss that it makes his heart flutter.  

[archangeldyke-all]

Sev showing off her card shuffling tricks to reader? (And yes, we can tell you’re ovulating lmao)

AHHAHAHWH

men and minors dni

"...and i can shuffle one handed..." sevika mumbles, a proud little smile on her lips, her eyes focused on her hands as she demonstrates all her card tricks to you.

she's just won a round in her little booth, and she's waiting for a new challenger to approach her. she's tipsy, relaxed, a hundred coins richer than when she entered the bar, and best of all, she's got you in her lap, scratching her scalp as she entertains you.

you're fucking enchanted with her, hypnotized with her skilled hands, loving the sweet, childlike look in her eye as she shows off.

"this is the classic riffle..." she says, "and then from here you can go into your fancier shuffles; bridges..." she shows off the move, "waterfalls... the faro... this one's banned in some clubs 'cause you can use it to cheat."

"oh, yeah?" you ask, not caring at all, but absolutely loving the sparkle in sevika's eye when you ask the question.

"yeah! 'cause it's a perfect interwoven shuffle-- so if you do it properly enough times you re-set the deck."

"'s it banned here?" you ask. she nods.

"yeah, but the idiots i play against are too stupid to realize when i use it." she whispers. you cackle, and sevika smirks. "this one's called the tenor..." she continues.

you have to bite your lip a little as you watch her big, strong hands, metal and flesh alike, dexterously and delicately fling the cards around, not dropping a single card or fumbling once.

sevika's none the wiser to how fucking hot she's making you-- she's lost in her nerdy rambling.

"then you got your table shuffling variations--" sevika drops the deck down onto the table top to demonstrate, but you reach out and grab her hand before she can start.

"sevika..." you whisper. sevika pulls her eyes up from her cards to look at you. "you've got sexy fucking hands." you say. sevika blushes, and you grin, reaching up to swipe your finger over her pink cheeks. "and a pretty face, too."

"sevika!" old billy calls from the front of the bar where he stumbles in. she blinks rapidly, biting her lip in embarrassment before turning to face her friend. "i'm gonna kick your ass tonight, young lady!" he teases, approaching your booth.

sevika gulps, and you giggle, leaning forward to kiss her cheek. "better get your game face on, baby... seems like the man means business." you tease.

billy approaches the booth, smacking sevika's shoulder in a greeting, then bending down to kiss your cheek. "evening ladies." he greets.

"hi billy." you greet as he crawls into his booth.

"fuck's wrong with your face, sevika?" billy asks.

sevika squeaks and passes the cards to billy to let him shuffle, her hands clawing at your hips as she hides her embarrassment behind your shoulder.

you cackle, wave billy's concern away with your hand and pass him a cigarette as sevika tries to get her flustered blush under control.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll

@sevsdollette @ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re

@raphaellearp @iamastar @sevikitty @claude999

[zenless-zideblog-zero]

Girls night VS. Boys Night

Zhu-Yuan: *In a High speed chase with a vehicle*THIS IS PUBSEC! PULL YOUR VEHICLE OVER NOW!

Nicole: *in passenger seat Old Smokey, the car Zhu-yuan's chasing* Be careful! This thing hasn't been serviced in a good while!

Piper: *Driving* I can tell. These tires haven't been rotated in at least six years, and I can't begin to imagine how old the oil is. You should take better care of this old girl~

Belle: Less talk, More Speed!

Corin: Master Proxy, are we in trouble! If I get caught Victoria Housekeeping's reputation will be Ruined! WAH!

Belle: Corin, Sweetheart, please listen to me when I say Ellen and Lucy should have a distraction coming!

~~~~~

Wise: That's ... Twelve Ice Damage, and Nineteen Slashing damage.

Anton: Brometheus Fought the good fight! He believes his friends will save the world, even in his Death!

Wise: Stellar, Arctunoct the Frost-Bringer has just knocked your dear friend unconscious, and the Rituals Almost Complete! He give you the most vile, toxic smirk as he pulls his spear from Brometheus! What do you do?

Billy: Uh, how bad does he look?

Wise: He's decently hurt, but so is the rest of your team. You're the last in the initiative order, and if he's still up when your turn ends, the world may just end.

Billy: Okay then ... Stellar draws his hand-crossbows, looks Arctunoct in his dumb face, and proclaims "You are nothing but a selfish fool! And the Void of your heart will be pierced with STARLIGHT!" and will fire his crossbows.

Billy: And that's- NAT 20!

The Table erupts in cheers

Wise: Okay, how much damage?

Billy: Uuhhm, first I'm throwing Smite on that with my last level two slot and Lightbringer's final Divine Charge, so that's ...

Billy: Twelve piercing, and ... FOURTY THREE RADIANT!

The Table erupts into louder cheers

Wise: okay! WOW! That's a LOT of damage! uh- You Lightbringer's bolt CRACKLE with the fissile power of the stars, bleaching the shadows from view, stirking him square in the heart!

Wise: He clutches the metal piercing his chest, falls to one knee ... *grinning* and Laughs ...

Billy: WHAT!

Anton: NONONO!

Seth: HOW TOUGH IS THIS GUY!

Wise: Spitting up blood Arctunoct wheezes out "And so the light is swallowed by shadow ... a brave show young Paladin, but this ... THIS IS WHERE YOUR SUN BURNS OUT!"

Billy: Hold on! I have one more attack!

Wise: Yes, yes you do.

Billy: okay so that's ... Thirteen.

Seth: Bless!

Billy: Uh, Fifteen?

Anton: Brometheus's Inspiration!

Wise: And inspiration. You just need to roll a three.

Billy: ... I GOT THREE!

The Table erupts in even LOUDER cheers

Wise: Okay, Billy?

Billy: Yeah?!?

Wise: *Writing something down* I'm writing down Exactly how much health he has left, And then I want you to roll your damage.

Billy: Okay ... it's just the one roll ...

Billy: *Rolls Damage*

Billy: Okay,so that's Four damage, plus Five for my dexterity, and one for the Enchantment.

Wise: ... the first shot brought this beast of a man to his knees, but he still breathed.

Wise: Billy ... he had only nine Health after it, How do you Wipe him out?

*Seth, Anton, and Billy Freak the fuck out*

Billy: okAy! Okay! Okay! As he's laughing from the first blow, Stellar whispers under his breathe "It's always Darkest before the Dawn." And send this last bolt right into his neck, causing him to fall into the ritual, and is eviscerated as the spell goes haywire, unfinished!

Wise: Perfect. As his body is wrenched apart by the arcane Energies misfiring, you feel in your heart as you've accomplished what you were meant to do. The World is saved, the Sun just peeks over the horizon, as if to say thank you, to the knight that has let it blaze one more day.

[jams-sims]

Last night was a fucking fever dream. I laughed so hard until I cried and I woke up with a massive headache.

But I'm finally able to talk about what the problem is and people have already picked it out. Mainly when it comes to the red team.

They took a group of rper and forced them to play RUST, if you don't know what Rust is. Your YouTube algorithm isn't fucked like mine. It basically a game where no one wins. The whole point is that you build a base you farm materials for your base and you raid other people for their materials. That it's there is no end goal, but people sweat at that game.

An that's what Purgatory is, instead of each team going off to build multi bases, they have one home base. Instead of setting spawn points they only get one spawn point. An when they die their stuff stays on their body for anyone to take just like RUST.

The problem is they want player conflict, and for it to be something different and new unlike the leisurely life they led on quesadilla Island. They want that conflict that beautiful fitmc, where he turns back into the hardcore 2bt2 player and now that just everyone's problem.

I'm specifically going to look at the red team because they decide to put all the Lore heavy people together and they stuck survivalists with non players/builder. Charlie, Jaiden, Baghera are all pretty casual players. An Carre is never coming back after yesterday, if he does hell has frozen over.

Now I can take or leave whether the red team is cursed or not. I'm sitting directly in the middle of yeah it would be too obvious that red is cursed. Cause they legit have admin fucking with Philza. To it would be ironically funny if it was just the red team. Philza being the one to make the team curse cause the narrative has been beating his ass.

Anyway- the first thing that would have to be changed is the system of which people gain point. They want conflict, fighting is the best way to do that. Make it so killing people is gives you more points. But in turn you have to turn up the specialist factor so people don't just go on manhunts. You have to make it so if you are gonna go out into the world to kill. The world has to be beating your ass to make it fair.

This is the only way you can allow survivalist characters such as Philza and Cellbit to survive is by forcing them to make homes and equipment to survive natural disasters and other players. An you gain more by adventuring around as well. Movement should be awarded.

It's no longer race to the top of a volcano to turn in quest. It's now, race to the top of a volcano while it's erupting, to turn in quest to get equipment.

This allows players like Baghera, Jaiden and Charlie to focus on more homestead task. Building, food supply, and mining material. To make it so that if you can't turn in a quest you aren't fucked. I'm assuming the admins want NO working together with other teams. They want them to suffer thus we gotta rearrange with that suffering means.

For instants: If you build a base whether that be underground or not. You can be subject to raids, which means you actually gotta plan and hide your shit. If they find it oh well.

Your base can be destroyed but hard to craft items such as let's say enchanting table and villagers are a no go you can not take them or destroy them. Anything that would destroy a player morale shit like that is a no. We want it to be something you can work back towards and think about how do we make this thing better.

Natural disasters are more common than the minor problems, the your inventory moving on it own is less, and your controls swapped are less. We change that too, every 2 to 3 hours the weather changes. And it stays that way for the next 2 to 3 hours. In game or out would be up to the admins.

Task still exist, global still exist, but now it's a race to the top. The only time you can turn anything in is during a Natural disaster. Once a player picks something up. From their turn-in they become immune to damage certain amount of time. Then it's a free for all but that gives the turn in team time to run.

An once they enter their base they are considered safe. You have earned supplies for your team, immunity from raids and a shit ton of points. That's for the team who turns it in first.

Player can still turn in task and earn suppliers. That supplies is limited but even if your last you still get something.

How do you stop people from camping someone base or Gobal.

Easy, immunity for the team to do turn in first last the whole day until the next day. Where it loses its effect, that gives the team time to move their shit if they so wish or be ready to defend.

Global is even more easy global is locked until it is time and 2 if an admin catches you camping any where near it. You get one tapped don't be a camper.

How to stop people from camping others bases. (I think that just falls under don't be an asshole. An maybe making a shield around the spawn point with an area of effect could also help.)

I didn't want to complain and not give like legit fixs for the problems they have. Cause it's one thing to scream and say stuff is broke and it's another to actually come up with ideas to fix it.

[criolla-star]

Overwhelmed(Vinny x Garmadon)Part 58

(I suggest you check out parts 1-57 if you haven’t already, also my ao3 and wattpad for the chapters more organised: Criolla_Star)

(Someone’s been blessed by motivation)

As Vinny and Enji walked in the hallways, Vinny couldn’t shake his anxiety, on one hand he wanted to do everything to protect his friends, but on the other hand he couldn’t help, but think this was also a mistake…a fork in the road each with their own problems…

“Why’d you cut Cole…?” The cameraman asked quietly, breaking the silence as they walked.

Enji chuckled, “Because I just had to be safe…I wasn’t taking risks with the chest” he replied to the cameraman arrogantly as he wrapped a arm around his neck.

“Rida said that you were finding something that belonged to him…was the chest it?” Vinny questioned once more as he tried avoiding the other mans’ touch.

“Yep, and he’s going to get his way one way or another” Enji replied as he tied up his hair using a hair tie on his wrist.

There was that awkward silence again, it was taking longer to get to the elevator mainly, because they didn’t want to risk waking anyone.

“Do you-“ Vinny was cut off as Enji pulled him into a different corridor and covered his mouth. It was clear Enji didn’t want to get caught. The cameraman stared at the other, confusion evident on his face until he heard soft footsteps.

Vinny peaked slightly and saw Lloyd going towards the kitchen, once he was far enough Enji dragged the other quickly to the gaming room. “Thanks…” the cameraman mumbled, he knew he shouldn’t be thanking him, but if Lloyd saw him and the key was missing there would clearly be some suspects.

“I take my work seriously” Enji spoke, still sounding as arrogant as ever as he pushed Vinny, pressuring him to use the elevator. The cameraman rolled his eyes before carefully putting three shurikens in the dartboard causing the TV to lift as a elevator with a scanner was revealed.

“I think there’s cameras down there…” Vinny spoke as he looked at Enji.

“I’ll deal with them” he spoke before pushing the cameraman in front of the scanner. Vinny looked at the scanner and the elevator opened.

“Ladies first~” Enji teased as he bowed and signalled for Vinny to enter the elevator. The cameraman groaned in disgust as he entered the elevator.

Emoji entered after him, and Vinny took a sharp breathe as the door closed, “No going back now…” he thought to himself as he anxiously itched his hand.

Before he could take another thought the doors opened again as they made it down. Enji walked our first, strolling in like he owned the place, Vinny hesitantly followed behind, slightly sweating due to how nervous he was.

“Where is it?” Enji asked as he looked around.

“N-not sure…I put it there before I left” Vinny replied as he pointed to the table. The other man sighed before going through drawers, cupboards and anything that you could hide a key in.

Eventually his eyes landed on a small compartment in the ground, it was a loose slab, “Bingo~” Enji spoke as he crouched in front of the slab and lifted it, there it was…the key…

“W-what about the cameras?” Vinny asked, he was terrified of being caught, who knows what they all would say about this.

“Relax~! I used my illusions to change how you look to the cameras…so everyone just thinks you’re some random accomplice of mine” Enji chuckled, “You’re so tense” he added as he cupped Vinnys’ cheeks.

“Oh…let’s go back up…” The cameraman replied, as he pulled away from the others’ touch and began walking to the elevator again.

Enji rolled his eyes before grabbing the enchanted mirror from his pocket and grabbed Vinny closer, before throwing the mirror in the air. The cameraman helped slightly and saw the mirror came back down, it expanded and closed around them, he shut his eyes tight quite literally wondering what the fuck is happening.

Vinny opened his eyes and looked around, they were in this room? More so a tunnel…different mirrors, tall, long, short, small, all types of mirrors.

The cameraman hunched over once Enji let him go, he felt a wave of nausea wash over him, whatever that was, messed with Vinny.

“W-Where are we?” Vinny asked the other man through heavy breathes as he looked around the purplish, blue tunnel.

“I don’t even know what it’s called…but it’s how I get around” Enji replied as he dragged Vinny down the tunnel.

“If you just used the mirror, why couldn’t you use it to get down here?” Vinny questioned, annoyance evident as he was dragged by the other.

“Because there’s barely any mirrors there…and any in the vehicles are covered” Enji replied before he threw Vinny through a mirror, one identical to the one in he bedroom.

The cameraman yelped as he was thrown through, expecting an impact he shielded his face. He wasn’t greeted by the cold mirror glass, but instead the floor.

Vinny winced as he sat up on the ground, a hand on his head due to the impact. It wasn’t a hard impact, but it still stung. He looked back at the mirror and groaned as he saw Enji smiling at him devilishly as he waved.

“See you buddy!” He spoke to the cameraman.

“W-wait!” Vinny called out, he had a question about the mirrors, Enji groaned as he heard the others’ voice and reluctantly stuck his head out of the mirror.

“What?” Enji asked, clearly wanting to go to bed right now.

Vinny got up and rushed to the bedside table grabbing the mirror shard that Rida had accidentally left behind the previous day. “What’s this?” He questioned.

Enji took it from Vinnys’ hand and observed it, “A shard like my mirror…this one doesn’t word properly though and it’s old, I used it one time and I fell from the sky” Enji replied as he handed it back.

“You’re not gonna keep it or anything?” Vinny asked as he took it back.

“Rida would’ve came back for it already if he thought it was important and I quite frankly have had my share of bad experiences from that” Enji replied before retreating further into the mirror.

“Alright then…you can go” Vinny mumbled.

“Bye buddy~!” Enji said happily as he tugged on Vinnys’ hair pulling him to the ground before disappearing all together.

The cameraman groaned and winced in pain as he put his hand on his head, “Asshole…” he spoke out loud, just in case so Enji could hear.

He sat back on his bed, putting the shard on the bedside table. He could only hope no one would find anything suspicious about himself.

He was lost in thought before being snapped out by a soft knock, Vinny immediately got up about to open the door, before stopping. He should wait a little before opening it…whoever’s there won’t know he was awake…He also messed up his hair a bit more.

The cameraman waited at the door for a moment, two more knocks heard, he opened the door as he heard the third knock, he stared at the person who knocked with a fake drowsy expression.

Garmadon…great…just what he needed…

[madebymaryssa]

[text from under the original 'read more']

Now the prince, being a day shy of 21, doesn’t care about the fairy’s rank so much as the fact that, even though fairies go thousands of years without aging, this particular one has been around for so many millennia that she actually looks like an old woman, and not like Helen Mirren old, but, like, ugly old crone old.

But between his mom’s letters and visits and the influence of the good fairy, he has managed to be raised right, so instead of saying this aloud he goes,

“But … you raised me?   Like … almost from a baby?  You’re like … my aunt?”

And just like an anonymous dude on an online dating site, the rejection drives her NUTS.  She starts flipping tables and screaming about how dare he insult her and finally she transforms him into a hideous beast and puts these stipulations on the curse:

It can only be broken if a beautiful maiden comes to him, of her own free will, fully believing that he is going to eat her (because monster), and then later agrees to marry him, out of duty, again of her own free will and not because he threatened her or bribed her or told her anything about his real identity or what’s actually going on.  Oh, and if he uses his charm and courtly manners to woo her and win her over it doesn’t count either, bye!

So then the good fairy shows up the next morning for the coronation, she finds the grounds empty, the court and servants fled, and a hideous monster roaming the halls wailing, “Why did this happen to MEEEEE?” and she’s like, “What the fuck did I miss?”

But once she’s caught up, the good fairy is like, “OK, chill, I got this.”

And the Beast is all, “WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU GOT THIS THIS CURSE IS UNBREAKABLE!”

“No, it’s cool, I have a plan.  So first, I’m gonna conjure you some invisible spirits of the air to replace your human servants, because, as a prince, you can’t live without the service due to your station, right?”

And the Beast is all, “Yes, this is the 1700s so having servants is even more vital to my identity than a human body, that is absolutely the top priority I’m glad we’re on the same page here.  Also, good thing you’re not turning my human servants into moving furniture, cause that would be weird.”  *looks pointedly at 1756 version*

“Cool.  So now that we’ve solved the most pressing emergency of you potentially having to feed and dress yourself, the long-term plan:  The reason I haven’t been around so much is that I’ve been popping off to look in on this other child of a friend of mine, a half-fairy changeling girl being raised by human merchants, and she’s not only gorgeous, but very dutiful and good and I think she’s just the person to break this spell.  Plus if the plan works and she ends up married to you, the king, I will have fulfilled my promise to her mother that I would take care of her.  Two birds, one stone.”

“And she’s, like, my age?”

“Yes.”

“Cool, cool, liking the plan.  But how do we get her to come here believing that I’m going to eat her?”

“Well, her foster-dad lost all his money a few years back, but he just found out that one of his ‘lost’ ships came in after all and he was about to leave to check it out when I left them.  He asked all his girls what they wanted him to bring back for them, and Beauty only asked for a rose.  So, I’ll use my magic to make sure he can’t find a rose in the city, and get him lost around here on his way back.  You put him up for the night and make sure he leaves past the rose garden - he’ll obviously pick one, then you can freak out and call him a thief and say you’re going to eat him but will let him go say good-bye to his daughters first.  When she hears the story, Beauty will definitely come in his place because she’s the one who asked for the rose.  But when she gets here, you will instead become such an incredibly good host that she’ll eventually feel obligated to marry you via the rules of hospitality.  Oh!  And I’ll enchant some of the rooms with, like, self-playing instruments and mirrors that let her watch the opera and stuff so she’ll totally love it here.”

“This sounds great!  Thank you, good fairy, I’d never be able to do this alone.”

“Right. The only thing you have to remember is:  Don’t Be Charming.  No flowery compliments, no witty banter, nothing.”

“But I’m a prince!  All I do is charm!”*

“Hold it in.”

And that’s all the backstory, but before we go I just want to mention that the Warrior Queen Mother shows up while all of this is being explained to Beauty and she’s all, “Thank you so much for saving my son, but he can’t marry you, your dad’s a merchant.”  And the prince is like, “No, I’m marrying her.”  And the fairy’s like, “She’s half-fairy.”

Then it’s all, “No seriously, you can’t marry a peasant.”  And “No seriously, my twenty-first birthday passed at like the start of the curse, I’m technically the king now, and you can’t actually stop me.”  “Fairies outrank everybody.”

And they’re at a stalemate until the Fairy gives an exasperated sigh and is like, “I stand by my assertion that fairies outrank everybody to the point where in marrying a half-fairy your son would be marrying up, but would it help if Beauty’s biological dad was a lowly human king?  Cause he was.” “Yes, that … fixes everything.”  “Great.  Well, I’m gonna head on back to Fairyland and work on getting that evil fairy arrested and becoming powerful enough to turn into a snake**, so, uh, I’m not coming to the wedding but don’t think I won’t curse you if you don’t invite me anyway, bye!”  grumbling:  “stupid humans”

Fin

*this is presented as a legitimate plot-point, that charming the pants off Beauty when they meet for dinner is something the prince actively has to resist to the point where he’s eventually afraid to say anything to her other than, “Will you marry me today?” lest something clever or flattering slip out.

**There was a lot of internal politics and machinations of the various fairies that the humans were basically pawns in that I cut out, especially from Beauty’s backstory, and a surprising amount of that revolved around who had and had not become powerful enough to turn into a snake.  Lifegoals, apparently

What we really need is an adaptation of the original 1740 The Beauty and the Beast

So were you aware that the The Beauty and the Beast story we all know is a heavily abridged and rewritten version of a much longer novella by Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve?  And that a lot of the plot holes existing in the current versions exist because the 1756 rewrite cut out the second half of the novella, which consisted entirely of the elaborate backstory that explains all the weird shit that happened before?  And that the elaborate backstory is presented in a way that’s kind of boring because the novel had only just been invented in 1740 and no one knew how they worked yet, but contains a bazillion awesome ideas that beg for a modern retelling?  And that you are probably not aware that the modern world needs this story like air but the modern world absolutely needs this story like air?  Allow me to explain:

The totally awesome elaborate backstory that explains Beauty and the Beast

Once upon a time there was a king, a queen, and their only son

But while the prince was still in his infancy, in a neat reversal of how these fairy tales usually go, the king tragically died, leaving his wife to act as Regent until their son reaches maturity

Unfortunately, the rulers of all the lands surrounding them go, “Hmm, the kingdom is ruled by a woman now, it must be weak, time for an invasion!”

And the Queen goes, “Well, if I let some general fight all these battles for me, he’ll totally amass enough fame and power to make a bid for the throne; if I want to protect my son’s crown, I have no choice but to take up arms and lead the troops myself!”

(Btw, I want to stress that this woman is not Eowyn or Boudica and nothing in the way her story is presented suggests that she had any interest martial exploits before or in any way came to enjoy them during these battles.  This is a perfectly ordinary court lady who would much rather be embroidering altar covers for the royal chapel and playing with her child until necessity made her go, “Oh no, this sucks, I guess I have to become a Warrior Queen now” and she just happened to kick ass at it anyway.)

And the Queen totally kicked ass, but the whole “twice as good for half the credit” thing meant that no matter how many battles she won, potential enemies refused to take her and her army seriously until she had defeated them so no sooner would she fend off one invasion than another one would pop up on a different border.

So she spent the majority of her young son’s life away from the castle leading armies, but it was OK because she left him in the care of her two best friends, who just happen to be fairies!  This was an awesome idea because a) fairies have magic, and therefore are like the best people to protect the prince from any threats and b) fairies consider themselves to be so above humanity that the lowest fairy outranks the highest mortal, so they’d have no interest in taking a human throne.  Good thing they were both good fairies instead of one good and one evil one!

(Spoiler:  they were not both good fairies.)

So the two fairies basically take turns raising the prince until he’s old enough to rule.  And on the eve of his twenty-first birthday, the evil older one comes into the prince’s bedroom.

“So listen, kid.  You’re about to become king, your mother’s on her way home from the war to see you crowned, and I have a third piece of good news for you!  You see, I’ve actually been spending so much time here lately because Fairyland’s become a bit too hot to hold me for reasons totally not related to me being secretly evil.  And if I have to hang in the human world, I might as well reside in the upper echelons of it, so even though as a powerful fairy I completely eclipse your puny human status in a staggeringly unimaginable way, since you’re about to be king and since my premonition that I should stick this whole guardianship thing out because you would be hot one day has totally proved accurate (go me), I will graciously lower myself to allowing you to marry me.  Please feel free to grovel at my feet in gratitude.  (Btw, we can totally start the wedding night now, we’ll tell your mother about it when she arrives tomorrow.)”

Keep reading

[creepypasta-archive]

Jeff the (wizard) Killer (Chpt. 1-4)

by KarmaMarie

I wasn't willing to let you starve, so here's... some fucking bullshit. What if Jeffrey was in fucking... uh.... wizard terf universe?

CW// Murder... i'll be honest i've not read the full thing

Click below to see the unedited original story

Chapter 1: prologue

I The Woods family liked to think they were normal as could be, Mrs. Woods served on the PTA of her sons’ school and Mr. Woods was a labor worker in a big name factory. They had lived in the same house since their eldest son, Liu Woods, was born. He was planned for, his parents had bought the house specially because of him, painted his room the right color, got him everything he needed or, after he was born, wanted. If he was spoiled it was because, for a whole year, he was an only child. He enchanted the adults, his bright green eyes and chestnut hair always drew compliments. For a while, he was the center of attention, then his brother, Jeffrey Woods was born. Jeffrey was a surprise, his parents thought it was lucky that he was a boy, that way their sons could bunk together till they could afford a bigger house. This arrangement worked for a while. The boys got along well, they could hardly be separated for school and more than once got in trouble for leaving class in pretense for the bathroom and pranking people in the halls instead.

Around Jeffrey’s 9th birthday, that changed. They were waiting for the bus to take them to school when a man drove by in his car, going fast and splashed a muddy puddle on them. “Hey!” Jeffrey yelled, getting a face-full of muddy water. He looked over at his brother and saw that he was in no better condition. Jeffrey then looked at the car speeding away from them and glared angrily, which quickly turned into astonishment and confusion as the car made a sharp turn and drove off the road and rolled down the hill. “Wh-what the hell?” Liu ran to where the car went over and looked down, pulling out his cell phone and called an ambulance.

A few hours later, after Liu explained to the police what he’d seen three times, they let the boys go home, since they missed the bus and they were covered in drying mud. “Boys!” Their mom was frantic and angry, her face turning a pale red. “Your school just called wondering where you are! Why aren’t you there?!” Liu sighed quietly and, for a fourth time, explained what happened. “..and then he just made a turn that wasn’t there and his car rolled down the hill.” Their mother was silent for a moment. “Okay. You boys go get cleaned up and I’ll make you something to eat. I’m not sending you to school today.” Jeffrey bounded up the stairs, not really concerned with what he’d seen happen. If he was being honest with himself he’d even say he was…happy with what had happened to the man. Liu followed at a slower pace, wondering what had caused the abrupt turn and if the man had made it out alive, a small part of him hoped he hadn’t.

After they’d both cleaned and changed they went down to the kitchen where their mom had made them a breakfast of Eggs, bacon, sausages and toast.They sat down to eat just as the doorbell rang. Their mother went to answer it and they heard her talking softly in a hushed tone with someone, the someone answered back in a deep tone, a man was at the door. They went back to eating as their mother leads a tall bulky man with a shock of red curly hair, looking uncomfortable in his three-piece suit, into the kitchen. “Boys, this nice man would like to talk with you.” Liu made a soft whining noise. “I’ve already explained it three times to the police!”

“I’m not with the police, son,” the man said, giving Liu a small smile. He stayed by the door, even after their mother offered him a place at the table. “Liu, is it?” Liu nodded, feeling better that the man wasn’t going to be closer to him and Jeffrey. The man gave him the spooks. “Liu, I want you to tell me what you saw, but also, what you felt when you saw that man drive off the road.” Liu frowned at what the man said. What did he mean what he felt? Though…he could remember feeling a soft tugging sensation…Liu told the man about it, which made the man frown, had he given the wrong answer? “A…tugging?” The man looked puzzled, then he looked at Jeffrey. “Were you with him…?” “Jeff,” the younger boy supplied, smiling. “Jeff. Were you with him Jeff?” “Yessir. We’re best friends.” “Did you feel anything?” “Well, I was angry that he splashed mud all over us and we were waiting for the bus too!” Jeffrey pouted, though he always denied it. “You were?” The man asked, giving Jeff a once over. “Yeah! I was wearing my favorite hoodie! He got mud all over it and now it’ll never be as white as it was before!” “Well…I’m going to have to take you with me, then.” Liu knocked back his chair. “No!”

The stranger stared at him, looking like he was thinking something, testing the mood in the air. “And why not?” “Why no-?! He’s 9! You can’t cart him off to jail!” “Of course we can,” the man said. Liu was outraged at the stranger. He thought he could just show up, questioning them, then cart his little brother off to jail for something it was Impossible for a 9 year old to do?! “No. I did it. Take me instead.” The stranger raised his eyebrow. “Fine. You’ll both go.” Liu looked to his mother, fear and anger warring on his face. She merely frowned at the man and looked to her boys. “How long do you intend to keep them?” “A month at most,” the man stood up and nodded at her. “I’ll wait outside.” He turned and left, straight out the front door. Their mother looked down at them and sighed. “Come, upstairs both of you.” Both boys scrambled to finish their breakfast, a feeling of dread in their guts.

A half an hour later found them passed from their mother to the stranger, both of them terrified beyond measure. Jeffrey clinging to Liu’s hand, scared out of his mind. “L-liu. Wh-where are we g-going?” Jeffrey looked up at his older brother, trying not to cry. Liu kept silent, even though he knew it scared Jeffrey even more, because the truth would have been worse for both of them. Liu, for once, didn’t know what was going to happen to them.

A couple of weeks later Jeffrey came home from the strange building that the stranger had taken him and Liu to. He’d run what he called tests on both of them, sometimes separate other times together. He’d told them to do impossible things, like cause something to disappear and make things move. What scared Jeffrey most was he could do that sometimes. He managed it a couple of times when he was separate from Liu, but it happened most often when he was with his brother.

The stranger had said that he possessed a gift, that they both did. He then told Jeffrey that they would be keeping Liu for some extra tests and though Jeffrey had wanted to stay and had told them so, Liu told him to go home, that he would be fine there. Jeffrey had protested, even as they dragged him away from his big brother, trying to cling to him and anchor himself there. Liu gently untangled his brothers fists from his shirt and smiled at him. “You don’t need me, brother. You’ll grow up fine on your own.” So they took Jeffrey home, he had cried himself to sleep on the way. When Jeffrey woke up the next morning, he ran to his mother and demanded to know when Liu would be home. She sighed softly and looked down at him wearily from where she was cooking breakfast. She looked back at the food she was cooking and said to the pan, “Liu isn’t coming home, Jeffy. They found out he has a special gift and they’re sending his to a special school so he can learn how to use it.”

Jeffrey couldn’t believe his ears, he wouldn’t. Liu had always been there and now he was just….gone. Jeffrey stumbled back and took off back up to his room, sobbing. A few weeks later a knock at the door broke Jeffrey out of his depression and he ran to answer it. “Yes?!” He yanked the door open to find a woman standing there and smiling. “Hello,” she smiled down at him. “Is your mother home?” Jeffrey nodded, “Hold on a minute, please.” He shut the door and ran into the backyard. “Mom! There’s a woman at the door.” He watched as his mom get up and move past him to the door, her book still in her hand. “Hello?” She opened the door and smiled at the woman. “Hello,” the woman smiled back. “I’m Mary Robertson. My family and I just moved in across the street. I just wanted to introduce myself. And I’d like to invite you and your son to my son Bailey’s birthday party tomorrow. Since he doesn’t have many friends yet.” Mrs. Woods smiled back and nodded, “Of course we’ll be there, Mary.”

Jeffrey frowned, he didn’t want to go to some kid’s party. He left his mother at the door, exchanging with the new ‘neighbor’, he almost groaned. Why would they have to go out when Jeffrey wanted nothing more than to fall onto his bed and not get up again? He heard his mother giggle at something that Mrs. Robertson had said and he suddenly felt a tugging somewhere inside his body. It was located somewhere inside his ribs, just below his lungs. Jeffrey squirmed uncomfortably and went upstairs. Why was his mom laughing when her son had been sent off to some weird school with some weird people? Jeffrey fell down into his bed, in the room he used to share with his brother. He looked over at Liu’s bed and sighed when he realized he may not see his brother until summer and rolled to face the wall away from Liu’s side of the room. “Brother…”

The next day Jeffrey was woken up by his mother gently shaking him. “Get up sleepy head. Do your chores then get ready to go across the street.”

Jeffrey whined slightly. “Mom! I don’t wanna go to some kid’s stupid birthday party!” He rolled away and tried to burrow back under the covers in the warmth. His mother ripped the blankets away. He yelped and curled up. “M-moooom!” “Get up, Jeffrey.” She walked away taking the blankets with her. He whined and got up and moved over to Liu’s bed and crawled under his covers, hoping to gain a few more minutes of sleep. “JEFFREY WOODS GET DOWN HERE!!” He jumped a bit and crawled out of Liu’s bed, remaking it quickly and ran downstairs, still rubbing his eyes. “Y-yeah mom?” She stood there angrily, hip jutting out and a spatula in her hand. “I told you to get up a half an hour ago, young man.” He ducked his head and mumbled an apology. “Go get bathed and dressed. You can do your chores when we get back.” He nodded and turned, going back upstairs. He grabbed his clothes and went into the bathroom to get ready. A few minutes later he came downstairs, his light brown hair brushed and the dirt cleaned from his face and body. He was wearing his new jeans that his mother had bought for school originally, but she seemed pleased that he was trying to look nice so she let it slip by. He had also donned his favorite white hoodie, though now it was a dingy off-white.

“Okay. Let’s go.” She smiled and picked up a blue wrapped box. Jeffrey let out a quiet sigh and followed out the door after his mother. Once there his mother shooed him towards a group of children all huddled around something on the ground with the order to ‘Go play’. Jeffrey sighed again and walked over to them. He leaned in to look over one of the kids’ shoulders and saw that they were pouring salt on a snail on the ground, watching it. He frowned and turned away and headed over to the empty picnic table and sat down. A few minutes later the kids flooded back to the table for cake and Ice Cream when suddenly someone had an idea. “After this, we should play Hide and seek!” There were a few murmurs of disinterest, but many more of agreement from kids with their faces stuffed with sugar. So it was, after the last of the cake was consumed that Jeffrey found himself running from a child counting to 100. He ducked behind the shed where there were numerous jugs and crates to hide behind and as he knelt down, a quiet fell over the yard. “100” Jeffrey was terrified for some reason. He felt something was about to happen when suddenly he was dragged out of his hiding spot by his hair and tossed on the ground. He looked up at his captor, who had placed his foot on his chest and screamed at the top of his lungs, his voice shrill. “You stole my hiding spot!” It was the birthday boy, so Jeffrey couldn’t just shove him off like he would have the others, he was after all a 9 year old with some morality. Sadly those morals included Don’t upset the Birthday Kid. “I-I’m sorry…”

Jeffrey tried to make it seem sincere, although he could not care less, even adding in the little stutter for believability. Birthday boy didn’t buy it though, he screamed and kicked Jeffrey hard, in his ribs causing him to yell sharply when he felt something give a sharp snap. He pulled back his foot again and caught Jeffrey in his face, luckily just to the side of his nose, not crushing it, he was definitely going to have a black eye though. The adults finally saw what was happening and rushed over to pull the boy off of him and his mother picked him up. “J-Jeffrey. Are you okay?! Can you hear me Jeffrey?!” He tried to smile and look up at his mother, but the energy required had deserted him. He passed out, body falling limp. “Call 911!” “Lay him back down!” He was laid down gently on one of the divians outside. “They’ll be here in 15 minutes…” The conversation faded off. Accio…Liu….Accio….Liu….Accio….

Ac-Accio… “Ac-c-cio….liu….” Jeffrey blinked his eyes, looking up and around, confused because this was not his bedroom and only one of his eyes was working. “M-Mom?!” A sharp jumping noise from his other side forced him to turn his head, though it hurt.

Liu was there, sitting at his side. “Hey Jeff.” He reached up and ruffled his younger brother’s hair fondly. Apart from how long his hair had gotten, Jeffrey could also ascertain slightly greyer bags under his brothers eyes and a hollowness to his cheeks. Liu looked stressed and tired and he probably shouldn’t be awake right now. Jeffrey was thankful for the company. Liu told him all about where he’d been, a huge school called Hogwarts that was located in a castle! He told him about all his teachers and all the people he’d met and how he’d met a man as big as a house! All these fantastical stories that Liu had come up with for Jeffrey made him smile and feel better, but one question nagged at him. “Are you here to stay?” Liu frowned slightly and shook his head. “I’m here until next month, then I have to go back.” The youngest Woods brother shook his head. “And summer, will you come back then?” Liu nodded. Mrs. Woods chose that moment to come back, carrying food which she promptly sat on the table and rushed over to hug Jeffrey, exclaiming that the doctors said he might ever wake up and that she was so happy to have her little boy back, and even though he had suffered four broken ribs, a fractured wrist and and bruised cheek and eye as well as a cut over one of his eyes, Jeffrey felt lucky for some reason. ‘It could have been worse, I guess.”

He went home the following weekend. For the most part he was allowed whatever he wanted, except to go talk to the family across the street. He and Liu would play out in the backyard in the snow, having snowball fights and building snow forts. Just after Christmas and just before the first, something happened. Neither Liu nor Jeffrey would have been able to say what it was though.

After a day of playing with their new toys and games, they were sent to bed, full of hot cocoa and warm stew. Even though Jeffrey insisted that he didn’t want a bedtime story, Liu continued to tell him of all the fantasies he’d seen at his school and, against his better judgement, Jeffrey slowly fell asleep. A few hours later, Jeffrey would describe experiencing something like a dream where he woke up and went downstairs. He quietly opened a drawer in the kitchen and grabbed a chopping knife and went out the back door. He moved around to the front of his house and hid in the bushes, watching carefully for any signs of life around the cul-de-sac or any noises from someone in the house figuring out he was gone. When he heard nothing and saw nothing, he quickly fled across the street and crept into the yard across the street. He hopped the fence, grateful that the family didn’t own any dogs and moved to the back door. He stopped short when he realized that the kitchen light was on. He pressed against the wall and peeked through the glass, seeing the woman, Mary, at the table. He frowned, this complicated his plans. He stepped back and stumbled, falling into the large decorative bush next to the patio. He was thankful it was large enough to hide him when the door was slid open. A tentative ‘Hello?’ was called out before the door was slid shut again. Jeffrey sighed in relief and got up quietly, spying a trellis on the side of the house. He thought for a minute then got up. He climbed up and glanced in the window on the second floor. Jackpot. Jeffrey grinned, suddenly gleeful as he slid the knife up in the gap between the French windows and popped the lock, pulling one of the windows open and crawling inside quietly. He dropped to the floor with a muffled thump from his sock clad feet and he slowly moved forward his heart rate and breathing picking up. He leaned over the boy in the bed and murmured softly, almost cooing at him. “Go to Sleep.” He raised the knife.

At that exact moment, across the street, Liu sat up, eyeing his brothers bed. He’d known the moment Jeffery had gotten up, but had figured he was going to the bathroom. It had only just now struck him how long the younger had been gone. He stood up and went to check the bathroom, but it was dark. It hadn’t been used since they went to bed, the lid was still down. Liu turned his attentions downstairs when he heard the door slide open in the kitchen. He rushed downstairs without a second thought, but stopped dead when he saw jeff covered in blood. “Jeff!” He hissed angrily. “What are you doing?!” Jeffrey had the intelligence enough to look ashamed at being caught. “Payback.” Liu stopped short. “D-don’t tell me you…” Jeffrey looked away. Liu cleaned Jeff up the muggle way and stuck the bloody hoodie in a bag under his bed to take out with the trash in the morning.

Chapter 2: Wands, More fights, and FINALLY Hogwarts! Notes:I'm sorry guys. I would have updated sooner, butI hadn't managed to write to where I wanted to with this chapter. So here it is, Chapter 2, minus a little bit. and thank you all for the kudos and claw, thank you for the comment, it kinda made me realize 'Wow I need to update' x) without further ado CHAPTER 2!

II

The following year, during the summer, just before Liu is due to go back to that school, and away from Jeffrey again until the winter holidays, a barn owl swoops in through the open front room window and drops an envelope in his lap. Liu jumped up and tried to take it from, eyes wide. “That’s mine!” Jeffrey ran upstairs, fingers fumbling with the paper, though it felt thicker, rougher…”If it’s yours why is my name on it?!” Jeffrey yelled back, ducking into the bedroom and sliding himself under the bed, where Liu couldn’t reach him. “What?!” Liu sounded angry. “What do you mean your name is on it?!”

Jeffrey flinched back at the sound. “M-my name is on it…” “Let me see it.” Jeffrey handed it over, shoulders slumped. Liu looked it over, then moved away from the bed, taking the letter with him. Jeffrey crawled out from under the bed and followed Liu downstairs to where their mother was outside, watering her garden. “M-mom…” he called out hesitantly, his body shaking, only so subtly that Jeffrey barely noticed. Their mother turned to look at him, then she dropped her watering can and her hand came up to her mouth. She looked tear stricken and fearful. “Is it…?” Liu nodded. “They want him too.” Jeffrey had had just about enough. “What are you guys talking about?!” He demanded, eyeing both of them angrily. Liu cast him a glance, promising an explanation later. “Go make mom some tea.” Jeffrey fought back a sigh and turned to go inside, Liu going to help their mother in.

He sighed and started boiling a kettle of water, frowning softly. What was such a big deal about a letter anyway? Jeffrey just wanted to read the damn thing, but Liu still had it. He turned his head and glanced into the front room, and saw that another owl was perched on the back of the couch. “Liu! There’s another one!” The owl gave an indignant squawk and fell off the back of the couch in surprise and Jeffrey giggled in amusement. Liu came in and took the envelope from the bird, which proceeded to dive bomb Jeffrey’s head. Jeffrey growled and batted at it. Liu opened the envelope and said distractedly, “You should be nice. They have feelings and can understand us.” Jeffrey snorted. “Yeah right.” Liu spared a second to look up at his brother and frown, then he looked back at the contents of the envelope. Their mother came back in and looked over Liu’s shoulder. “Well, this should be easy enough to get. Nothing too costly.” She sighed in relief. “Go get dressed, boys. We’re going on a shopping trip.” Jeffrey was confused and looked between his mom and Liu. “What for?”

Liu shook his head. “School supplies.” Jeffrey made an ‘oh’ face, the one where his mouth made a comical O and his eyes widened then he nodded and raced upstairs. An hour and a half later found them all piling into the car, Liu in the front seat, with Jeffrey stretched out in the back. “So,” Jeffrey looked from his mom to Liu, “Where are we going?” Liu smiled back at Jeffrey. “Somewhere new.” After some driving, they wound up in a shadier looking part of London and parked in front of a building, the sign identified it as the Leaky Cauldron. Jeffrey frowned, what kind of name was that? Then, an even better question occurred to him and he asked Liu as they got out of the car. He tugged Liu down to his height, which was only a few inches shorter than his brother, and whispered. “Liu, they can’t see it, can they?” Liu smiled down at Jeffrey proudly. “Very perceptive~ and no, they can’t.” He took his little brother’s hand and lead him through the front door, into a pub room, full of people talking loudly to each other. Jeffrey froze in the door, staring, his mouth hanging open in awe. He watched as a broom swept past him, sweeping the floor on its own! The chairs flipped up and set themselves on the table so the broom could sweep under them, drinks poured themselves when a patron’s cup was almost empty and candles floated in the air with no supports or holders! He looked at Liu, surprise and wonder and fear fighting for a place in his eyes. Liu smiled down at his little brother and shushed him softly, taking Jeffrey’s smaller hand in his and leading him across the pub to where their mother was talking to the bartender. She was a young woman, her straight grey hair pulled back into a bun, though her eyes gave her away as an asian descendant. Liu smiled up at her. “Hello Mrs. Chang.” The woman smiled back a little. “Hello Liu. How are you this year?” “I’m well, yourself?”

As the pleasantries continues, Jeffrey found himself bored, ignoring them as Mrs. Chang led them to a small courtyard in the back and tapped a few places on the back wall. What Jeffrey saw next would always mark the moment his life made a 180 and threw him head first into one of the best things in his life. He looked around and was frozen to the spot. For the most part, it looked like any other market in London, except that the shoppers were all wearing robes. First left, then right. All the shops had odd things in their front windows. One seemed to have nothing but balls and brooms and robes, another was for ‘potions’? And yet another was for just sweets and ice cream, not that Jeffrey was complaining. He looked around and his eyes landed on a pet shop with owls out front in cages and cats and toads inside.He made to move toward it when Liu pulled him back. “I just wanted to look, I swear!” Jeffrey pouted when Liu shook his head at him. “We’ll go there last. Right now, we need to go over here.” Liu led him to a small shop, almost no one was in there. “Well, since you two are going in there, I’ll go find the rest of Jeff’s stuff.” Their mother said, walking away from the door. Liu led him inside and, at first, it appeared empty of everything except them and the boxes that lined the walls and shelves. Jeffrey walked up to the counter in front of him and tried to get a glimpse of what this shop sold, but saw nothing but boxes. “Hey, Liu-” He jumped slightly when a great clattering came from behind him and a voice from behind him whispered, “Ah, there you are young Mister Woods.” The voice sounded odd. Comforting, like that of a grandparent, but at the same time it was raspy and old, like aged construction paper. Liu smiled at the man behind Jeffrey and nodded. “Hello Mr Ollivander.”

Jeffrey turned around and came face to face with the man, terrified. The old man smiled over the counter at him and leaned forward. “And you, Mister Jeffrey. You’re just as Liu described you. And you look so much like your mother.” He smiled, his eyes full of nostalgia. “Cherry. Springy, 13 inches. She was a gifted witch.” Jeffrey’s jaw dropped. “You know my mother?!” He was startled and awed. His mother had never mentioned any of this to him. The man continued smiling. “Oh, yes. She was one of the best wands I ever sold.” Jeffrey looked at Liu, confused. His mother was a wand? Liu shrugged, “It’s how he remembers things.” Jeffrey looked back at Ollivander. “Is that what you sell here? Wands?” Jeffrey was skeptical. After all the amazing stuff he’d seen today, he doubted whether wands were really necessary to perform magic. Ollivander nodded. “A wand is a wizard’s most important weapon and defense! Without it, his magic could go out of control and harm others.” He turned and shuffled down on of the aisles and Jeffrey looked at Liu skeptically.

Liu smiled and shook his head slightly, then looked back as Ollivander came shuffling back up the aisle with a couple of boxes. He pulled a stick out of one of them, though admittedly it was a rather fine stick it was still a stick. He handed it to Jeffrey and stood there, waiting. “Well? What are waiting for?! Wave it!” Jeffrey jumped a bit, then frowned at the man and flicked his wrist, causing one of the shelves to tip over. “……oops.” “No, not that one, then.” Ollivander picked another one out of its box and handed it to Jeffrey. "Try this." Jeffrey took it and waved it, watching as a glass fell to the floor and shattered. Ollivander took that one back as well. For an hour they stood there, trying wand after wand till finally Jeffrey found one. Ollivander handed him the last one and sighed. "If this doesn't work, young mister, I don't know what to tell you…" Jeffrey frowned and reached out, taking hold of the thin stick and flicking his wrist. He waited…. …nothing happened. Ollivander was outraged. "What?!?" He turned and shuffled back into the aisles again. Jeffrey looked up at Liu worriedly. As much as he had balked before, he wanted a wand now. Liu stood on his tippy toes and leaned on the counter, calling back to Ollivander. "Sir?" "What?!"

"I remember you once saying you don't use Veela hair…" "Because it's too temperamental, yes." "Well, that might suit Jeff better than anything else…." Liu said, trying to catch a glimpse of the wandmaker. A silence followed his words, broken a moment later by Ollivander returning with the last box. "Maybe you're right, young mister." He pulled a wand from the box and held it out to Jeffrey, who then waved it and a bright shower of blue colored lights exploded from it. "Elm. Veela hair. Flexible. 11 inches." Jeffrey tilted his head. Liu smiled and whispered, "Wand stats." Jeffrey looked at him like he was crazy. "Is rather combat gifted…" Liu smiled. "Thank you, mister Ollivander.” He laid a couple of odd coins on the counter. "We must be going now." He led Jeffrey from the shop. "My god! Does he never shut up?!" Jeffrey groaned. "I think he talked my ear off!" Liu shook his head. “Be nice, Jeff. He knows more about anything than anyone does.” Jeffrey looked dubious. “He’s almost 100 years old.” Jeffrey’s eyes widened. “Holy-…” “Boys!” Their mother waved from the Ice Cream shop. They went to her. “I’ve got everything but your pet, Jeff. I figured you’d want to pick that out…” Jeffrey smiled. “Let’s go!” Mrs. Woods sighed. “Wait. I just ordered us lunch.” Jeffrey pouted. An hour later he was antsy and ready to go when his mother stood up. He jumped up. “Let’s go!” He ran from the shop with Liu hot on his trail. He bounded into the shop, looking around, taking in all the animals around him.

On his left there were owls and hawks and on the right there were spiders and newts and snakes. Jeff grinned and headed further towards the back where there were bats and ravens and creepy unidentifiable creatures. He looked around for a while without seeing any animal that really struck him, though they were all calling for attention, until he saw one, a small Owl by standards to the rest, curled up in the back of a cage sleeping by itsef. He leaned forward to get a better look at it when the Shopkeeper came over. "Oh you dont want that one, young sir," she said, her bright purple hair sparkling with stripes of neon green in it. "Why?" His mother asked confusedly. "Well, that one we have had problems with…" the young girl shook her head. Liu frowned. "Because it's a runt?" The girl shook her head a second time. "That one has killed two others this month alone." Jeffrey's eyes lit up. "I'll take it. He is mine." Jeffrey's mother made a sound between disbelief and confusion. "Why?" Jeffrey smiled up at her. "Because, hes like me."

The next month passed in relative easiness, though with each passing day Mrs. Woods got increasingly depressed and Jeffrey more and more excited. The owl Jeffery had purchased was a bit off kilter most days. He was always mean, to everyone except Liu and Jeffrey, and he liked to attack for no reason. No one was immune from theses attacks, not even his owner. Jeffrey had taken to calling him Alistaire. A few weeks later came the day, the day the Jeffrey could not wait for and that his mother was dreading. The day that Jeffrey was heading off to school had finally arrived.

The three stood in the entrance to King's Cross Station and Jeffrey looked around in mild disbelief. "We're taking a train?" He frowned. "Wizards have cooler ways than this to get to school, surely!" Liu smiled slightly as an old couple passing them in the opposite direction started laughing. Jeffrey felt his ears burn in embarrassment. "Yes," Liu agreed. "We do, but me and you, we aren't old enough to use them yet. We aren't trained." Jeffrey groaned. "Of course!" The clock ticked away reading 10:50. Liu frowned, "We need to go, mom." He pointed up at the clock for explanation and Mrs. Woods nodded. Liu pushes his trolley towards the wall between platforms 9 and 10 and ghosted through as soon as he touched it, looking upon the train that would take him back to his friends, and home for another few months till he had to come back. Jeffrey looked up at his mother, slightly alarmed when his brother vanished. She smiled strainedly at him and set one hand on his back. "Don't worry, Jeff." She guided him along and through the wall next to herself and coughed at the smoke permeating the air. She smiled down at Jeffrey, her youngest son, then hugged him. "Mom!" Liu frowned, "We have to go now!" Mrs. Woods nodded and let go of Jeffrey. "Be good, do your work, and Stay Out of Trouble, young men," she told them sternly. They both nodded at her, then turned and got on the train, pulling their trunks with them. They found and empty compartment and Liu lifted the trunks onto the shelf set above their heads on the wall. Jeff flopped onto the bench seat and curled up, prepared to stare out the window till they reached their destination.

Jeff frowned at the window. "I'm bored!" He flopped back on the seat. "Liu how much longer?" Liu rolled his eyes and responded, "A little longer, dude. Calm down." Jeff growled and looked at the ceiling, sighing. All of a sudden the door was thrown open. "Look-y what we got here!" A large boy with a shock of orange hair on top of his head leered down at them from where he stood in the doorway. On either side, though they could not get near the door because of the first boy, stood two others. One was tall and thin, with hair so light it was almost grey and eyes so dark you could not tell pupil from iris. The other was slightly shorter than the other and had midnight colored hair, streaked with white. His eyes were the brightest green imaginable, bordering on neon. The apparent leader continued, "Little Liu Woods." His eyes gleamed with malicious intent as he looked from Liu to Jeffrey. "And who might you be?" Liu stood up and stepped in front of Jeffrey. "Your problem is with me, Jack. So leave him alone." The boy…mountain….Jack, sneered at Liu, eyes glinting dangerously. "Aw look at you, Woods, finally grew enough backbone to defend your Boyfriend?" Liu just stared at him for a minute. "Really? He's my brother, dipshit." Liu hauled back his fist and punched Jack in the face hard. Jeffrey purred, relishing the sound of the cartilage in Jack's nose snapping. Suddeny Jack pulled out a pocketknife and flicked it open, pulling back and swinging forward with terrifying precision and dove for Liu's face. He managed to get two cuts in, perpendicular across the bridge of Liu's nose before Jeffrey managed to shake off the shock and attacked Jack, pulling out his own knife and started attacking Jack, Liu falling back onto the ground. Jeffrey slashed at Jack like a madman and knocked him back into the corridor with his body weight. All of a sudden he felt this feeling, like the one from the night he killed the neighbor boy, but this one was…so much more. He started laughing manically, till he felt something like his body being exploded from the inside. Something had been building inside him for so long, right along next to the anger and hate he kept bottled inside. He screamed in agony and pain and some odd amount of pleasure as everything was blown out of him and then he blacked out.

He awoke in a long room, laying in a cot with white curtains drawn around it. He took a second for the spinning in his head to stop, then sat up. He opened the curtains to see a woman bent over the cot next to him where Liu was sitting up and staring straight ahead. Jeffrey slowly got up and went to the other side of Liu's bed. "L-Liu?" He whimpered softly when his brother's only response was the drawing down of his eyebrows and lips to form a frown. The woman shooed Jeffrey back and continuedpointing her wand at Liu, then flicked it up as if she were reading it. She sighed loudly. "I suppose I can allow you to go now, Mr. Woods, though I don't know why you wont let me heal those horrendous scars…" Liu looked up at her and frowned again, saying quietly, "I like them." He slowly stood and headed for the door. The woman stopped him when he tried to follow. "Oi!" He shouted, "Let me go!" The woman shook her head. "I am to take you up to the headmaster, since you missed the sorting ceremony." Jeffrey growled angrily and huffed. "Fine."

The woman, Madame Donovans, who was apparently the school nurse (though she called herself a 'Medi-witch') led him down through corridors and courtyards, till they reached a hall with a giant stone Gryffin standing on its hind legs in a pocket room at the end. She gestured for him to enter the small space and said quietly, "Allons-y." Jeffrey jumped a bit when the ground under his feet lurched and started moving up and around. Ensconced as he was in the giant golden Gryffin's wings, the nurse was soon out of sight and Jeffrey was scared. He stayed still until the Gryffin stopped moving, then he got off of the stairs, scared of what else might happen if he stayed. He saw a door, the only door there really in the 3'x2' area and reached up and knocked on it. He jumped slightly when a voice called from the other side. "Enter." Jeffrey took a breath and turne the handle, the door falling open and opening on a most peculiar scene. There was a large mahogany desk with a mahogany chair behind it, the cushions being green and gold fabriced. To the right was a staircase leading up to a balcony located behind the desk with an entire window wall and Astronomy tools and a giant cushioned chair, much like the one on the first level except bigger. Between the desk on the first floor and the staircase was a perch, nothing was on it, but underneath it was a bowl, with a pile of ashes in it. To the left was a door, a few cabinets and a bowl on a pedestal. Jeffrey looked down into that bowl and saw water with a few misty strands floating in it. He reached out to touch it, but was stopped by a voice behind him. "Do not touch that, Mr. Woods." Jeffrey jumped and turned around, looking for all the world like the kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "S-Sorry." The man quirked his eyebrow good naturedly and smirked. He was small, for a grown man and his eyes twinkled mischeviously, like he was laughing at a prank he had pulled. Jeffrey could have sworn he was a Leperachaun, except that his ears were not pointed. "Ah-I-uh…" Jeffrey searched for an answer, an excuse, /something/! The man chuckled again, "You can't lie in here, Jeffrey." That gave Jeffrey pause as he thought. He tried to say 'I'm wearing a skirt' and it ended up coming out "I'm crazy". The man smiled again, eyes alight. "Aren't we all?" Jeffrey sighed, this could prove difficult.

Chapter 3: Sorted! Notes:WOO! Sorry its sooooooooo frickin short though. I figured it would be quicker to update like this. I'm gonna REALLY try to be more....consistent in my updates but it does take me a while to type. cast of characters so far: Jeff the Killer Homicidle Liu Seamus Finnigan Jack Herringer (he's an OC "Villan" for Jeff and the others) **there WILL be more creepypastas, I just have to work up to them** ***I intend for this to be a SUPER long fanfic, spanning Jeff's first 3 years AT LEAST

III Jeffrey looked dow at the ground. "I'm…not in trouble, right?" He used hs best innocent voice and looked up…straight at? God this guy wa short!

The man sighed. "You are, very much in trouble. One boy, Jack Herringer, was sent to St. Mungos. He is hurt too bad to heal." He stopped, "What do you remember?" Jeffrey looked away. " Nothing much, really. I remember knocking him away from my brother and then….nothing… I think I blacked out, sir." He bit his lip. All he had wanted was to keep his brother from getting hurt…

"Your magic exploded and basically cooked some of his body. He's in serious danger, Jeffrey. In all honesty, I should have you arrested." The man ran his hand through his hair, bright brown eyes dimming in sadness.

'Oh god please no Mom would KILL me!'

"As it is…your older brother refuses to rat you out and is taking all the blame for the incident. He will be put on trial instead of you, since the boys' families want to press charges."

"WHAT?! NO!!" Jeffrey yelled, straightening up. "He can't!"

The man frowned. "Unless you can get to the Ministry in the next five minutes by yourself to confess in front of the jury, he will be convicted and sent to a containment cell inside the Ministry for the next year." Jeffrey was losing his mind inside, surely. "He will stay there until next summer, when he is released into my custody."

Jeffrey growled loudly. This man thought he could intimidate him into submission?! Jeffrey smirked. No, he wouldn't be intimidated or bullied again. He stood straighter and smirked. "Is there anything else we should talk over while I'm up here? If not, I'm leaving."

The man frowned deeply, his face reddening slightly. "As a matter of fact, there is. We need to sort you into a house." He turned and walked to one of the shelves and climbed a step latter so he could reach the top shelf, grabbing something that looked like it was made from an old potato sack, muttering angrily.

Jeffrey tilted his head, curious dispite his anger.

The man approached him, carryig the thing. "Sit." He gestured to stool which had appeared next to Jeffrey's side.

Jeffrey sat in it and sighed slightly, then jumped when the thing was placed on his head.

'Hello~' Jeffrey jumped when he heard a voice inside his head and wildly looked around.

'Wh-'

"Calm down. I am the Sorting Hat, here to put you in your place at this school. Now, let's see where you belong~' Jeffrey could /swear/ he could feel this thing going through his thoughts. 'Hm~… There's a lot of Anger in here, Hate, Confusion and Sadness…Mmm~. Depression! And a Thirst to Prove Yourself~. You are dangerous.' Jeffrey could practically hear the fucking thing on top of his head purring, and that's when he made the connection. The Hat was alive… 'Yes, I am, thank you for noticing.' It stopped at two memories in particular and studied them closely, then annouced aloud, "Ravenclaw!"

Chapter 4: Dorm mates and Riddles Notes:WOOOO! Third update today!

IV

After that, the man, who told Jeffrey he was the Headmaster (something like a Principal or Dean form what Jeffrey could understand) called up one of the students, (with a title smething like perfect? Jeff was confused) to take Jeffrey to his dorm room with he had to share with some other boys his age.

'Great. This'll be fun.' He followed the boy up a flight of stairs and into a tower. Up and up they went till finally they came to a door with a bronze Eagle shaped knocker.

Instead of knocking the boy jus waited, so long that Jeffrey was about to reach up and knock himself. Finally e heard a sound from the door but not that of it opening. No, it sounded more like…

The knocker coughed and cleared its throat. "What room has no doors or windows?"

Jeffrey stood dumbfounded, then jumped when the boy elbowed him.

"Wh-?" He looked at the boy confused.

"Answer the riddle, we don't have time to laze around out here." He glared at Jeffrey haughtily.

Jeffrey frowned a bit. "A…riddle?" He was confused, door knockers asking riddles was something new to him, okay?! He thought for a minute, zooming through all types of rooms, none of which he could think of that didnt have doors or windows… then something occured to him, maybe it wasn't a literal meaning? He went through again. 'Doors….windows…' "The mind?" He asked tentatively.

The knocker frowned, "No."

Jeffrey groaned softly then tried again, thankful for once that he had a relatively good memory. 'Rooms….rooms rooms roo-' "A Mushroom!" He looked at the knocker triumphantly and grinned when the door swung itself open.

The boy frowned more deeply. "If you couldn't understand that right off the bat you're going to struggle here."

He led Jeffrey through the door into a large wide room with white and blue decorations everywhere and a HUGE fireplace with plush blue and bronze armchairs everywhere. He bypassed that and headed up one of two staircases leading off of the room. "That was the Commonroom, this is Ravenclaw tower." He opens the first door they come to. "This is your dormroom, since you're a first year, further up the stairs is the upper years. These are your dorm mates. Goodbye." He walked away.

Jeffrey glared after him, frowning deeply. That guy was a total prick! He then turned and looked at the boys occupying three of the five beds in the room.

Two of them were sitting side by side on one bed, whispering quietly to each other, pointing at a piece of paper, another was lounging on his bed reading what appered to be a detetive novel, if the cover was anything to go by.

He looked up when Jeffrey closed the door and smiled softly at him. "Jeffrey?"

Jeffrey nodded a bit, put off and unsure of himself.

The boy pointed at one of the beds, at the end of which sat Jeffrey's trunk.

He nodded his thanks at the boy and moved to his bed and flopped into it, sighing softly and staring up at the curtains of the bed. "What'd I miss at the….'feast' or whatever?" He asked the boy.

The kid smiled at him again and lowered his book, rolling over and looking at Jeffrey. "Well…the sorting hat sang a song, Headmaster Finnigan warned us about using Magic in the corridors, that Quiditch tryouts for the teams had to be postponed until November, and that we are not allowed in the Forbidden Forest without a teacher."

Jeffrey frowned. "Headmaster Finnigan?"

The boy nodded. "Short. Looks like a Leperachaun?"

Jeffrey groaned. "That guy…he's a jerk." The boy tilted his head quizzically. "He was a total Dick earlier when I met him."

The boy chuckled softly. "Oh. He can be sometimes. He just has Issues with anyone who isn't a Gryffindor." He frowned when Jeffrey looked lost. "The house…Gryffindor…"

"Oh." Jeffrey looked away, embarrassed at his lak of knowledge about the basic stuff about the school itself. If Liu had been here, he would already have been told everything…but Liu was not here… He fought down his embarrasment and looked at the boy. "uhm… Wh-What's your name?"

He grinned. "Jaimee Austin. Most people cal me Jae." He looked up at Jeffrey, eyes a bright neon blue. "You're Jeffrey Woods, Liu's little brother, right?"

Jeffrey nodded.

Jaimee grinned. "You're brother is super cool. He protected me earlier, before we got on the train…Jack was bullying me." He looked down. "I cant believe he…almost killed him though…"

Jeffrey couldn't decide what to feel right then. Envy, that people looked up to his brother already? Jealousy, this boy wanted to get close to his brother? Sadness, his brother was in custody again because of him? Or Helplessness, beause he could not save his brother?

Jeffrey settled on feeling tired and apologized to Jaimee, then rolled over and promptly fell asleep.

[randomclam24]

Realistically, we're living in a society where the only expectations are set by faggots who see themselves vicariously in everyone else, creating mountains out of every molehill. For those who aren't, that still takes absolute precedence over all else.

Update

I just played Minecraft starting a new location where I had already done the initial mining to make an enchantment table for diamond tools

Maybe it's because Minecraft is like a dying horse that just keeps getting up again, but even after just going through the motions to get enough clay for a brick house, I actually thought about building one and then surveyed the surrounding area and how it all felt the same. The way I thought about it seemed an awful lot like the quote from Mary in Silent Hill 2, I don't want any damn flowers!, like building a house is just a meaningless gesture at that point. I wanted to record that because it turns out if you read up on it that this is the scene that causes James to commit suicide in the ending if you dwell for too long.

Update

After what the recommended tab showed me - let's see if you can get rid of that. And if it can't be removed for viewers, I might be unable to stay here.

We're living in an alternate reality in the sense that the predisposed perception of those onlooking precedes essence

I wish I knew *anything* that was actually constructive to this role, but there's just too much crap

It's like I wake up every day having to conclude, want to try again in another couple of generations? There won't *be* another generation! It will only get worse

Every attempt to return to Silent Hill 3 is directly incepted with more sexual deviance in the banner slot on the given website, no matter where it is. I take that as sexual harassment.

What is it? Is it because I already did that with trying to return to Silent Hill 3 in the first place?

Look, I get it. This is the kind of rut the establishment wanted me to go into a rant over to validate Aztrosist in a way that goes hand-in-hand - exactly.

Go *fuck* yourself

What am I supposed to do? Become a beggar?

My efforts may as well have been going on for thousands of generations: they won't listen.

Who even exists, even historically, who knows how to do this?

Update

I get the feeling that, no matter what happens, leftists will always have the mentality, which prevails in society, like "Communism has never been tried."

That's kind of why I think, should we just wait until some later time, when things have played out more?

If we're to be realistic, there isn't a count that isn't going to come down to the fact that small-minded people project. No, in fact, that's all the society itself came down to.

Letting these people have their oppression narrative lets them build themselves up as the underdogs. We should just be blueballing entirely instead.

Update

I think the worst thing you can allow a normie to do is act normal. That is, in the first place, the habitat in which they take their effect. Do something to where they can't call you out, but it sets them off.

It's from there on that everything they say will just be a landfill going of projecting. That doesn't mean you have to call them out on everything, but once that flow is ongoing, eventually they'll say something so dumb, it won't take a cult of personality to call them out.

I'm actually just sick of seeing these people in their intended state.

Update

Now that scenario hits me more than ever, and I will make the reference. The Stanley Parable take-over-the-facility-for-yourself scenario, where the narrator responds with "you don't have the power you think you do", because when you think about it, that would be justice. Our heads get filled up with all this nonsense like one day it's going to get resolved. Why not do it?

I don't like myself that damn much. Really, do I care about what I just said in the last paragraph that much?

It's possible what I really feel is more like a case of stable vice in an animal.

Update

Should I post it? Sure. Who am I kidding. Everyone's a faggot. Otherwise someone would have *done* something by now.

Update

I don't want to be the one to break the news, but this psychological gaming study yields these results. You do realize that the politics of the West is not separable from the psychology of the peoples themselves as the "rigged system"?

You were born in absolute fucking garbage.

Update

I'll try drinking myself to death, starting mainly after dinner.

*Fuck* you man shit you're a piece of fuck

Update

I would use my words, but I would be safer drinking myself to death than to go *that* way. I don't think it's very likely I won't get disappeared.

Update after dinner

I don't want to relive any part of my life. I was born in 1995.

Update

This life is a mortal enchainment

Say, just "live" your "life"

I don't even like you fuckboys

Not enough content out there

Update

Real life doesn't have any value. We should all just die.

Update

Going to offy kill myself

Bye nee

Donkey Kong Country 3 - Game Over [Restored] - YouTube

Change tha world - my final message

nig(s)

Update

"Change tha world" was all a grift

Update

Change tha world

My final grift

Goodbye

Update

Credits

Beach Theme (Fun At The Beach) - New Super Mario Bros. (DS) - YouTube

Update

*phones up UN*

"I hate the antichrist!"

UN officer: *spits coffee*

"Now who could that possibly be?"

UN officer: "Whazzat?"

*based department*

*drops the mic*

*mic starts making a horrific hissing noise*

Update

Donkey Kong Country 3 - Cavern Caprice [Restored] - YouTube

Update

The most drunk I got was with my cousin, where we ended up sharing a single jacket in the cold to Taco Bell and back just to find out the hard way it's been closed for the night - then he runs off near the end

I wish I could be this simple

Have you ever heard of Garfielf

[what-ever-happened-to-chip]

Part one of camp A life

J looked sullenly around at his now near empty room. All the electronics had been taken out. How could they do this to him? Okay yea he had some blunders but this, this was too much. He generally failed at seeing how him and Harry getting various people to rape their fellow camp mates or drug them into saying mean shit was “so bad.” Whatever, they just erased that! He vaguely recalled at Spirit School Chemistry class going over effects of “erase” serum and how it affects the psyche a small amount even if trauma was removed. He forgot what they said about what happened doing it multiple times to an individual, especially one who was forced into things outside their character. (The class taught that after just 3 times the brain chemistry begins generating too much serotonin and dopamine and can cause mental illness to those whom have had their memories “erased.” Only way to fix it is with brain surgery and special medicine only made in the spirit world that needs to be administered for at least 5 years.)  

Today was the vote of who would be the new security person. J wanted to avoid going but he was required and this place was getting pretty fucking natzi like on what was required of them. Rock Lee had enacted a mandatory hour training session every day. The first week was hell since one a lot of people were outta shape and two a decent amount were going through some sort of withdrawal. Gippal had a seizure the first day of training. J sighed running his hand over the empty wall. Never did ask for his apple watch. He missed Harry. He let out an angry screech and headed out towards the dining room. He saw the room was mostly full and picked a seat between Neji and Paine. Paine was still looking rough after the two weeks of detox. 

Gippal laid with his head on the table. All his mind felt jumbled and disturbing. He was thinking of Aerith and all his drunken stupid abuse he had done to those around him. He felt disgusted with himself and needed a drink so fucking bad. He knew he had gone back to the booze so he wouldn’t have to look at himself and years on it suppressing his emotions had done him no favors. Now they came on strong and hard. 

Everyone appeared to be present. Yorichi stood at head of the table as Rock Lee reported to her all heads were accounted for. 

“Wheres Ulquoirra?” Someone shouted out

“He ain’t got no time for this bull sheet” Yorichi snapped back. “Aight you all so I have laid out the candidates fit for the job and we gonna do a silent vote on them, don’t need no arguing and petty ass bull sheet from people.” 

She took out a sheet of paper and with her long cat like nails touched the names calling out each one. The candidates were Neji, Zuko and Memo.

Everyone made a small note in their head not to vote for Zuko cause well fuck Zuko. 

Sasuke was silently pissed he wasn’t one of the options. Not that he really wanted to job but he was afronted that he wasn’t one of the chosen.

Zuko on other hand was thrilled beyond his wildest dreams. Finally some important role in camp. Years ago they put him on lighting the grill for BBQ nights to have some sorta of role but whomever was grilling usually just did it themselves so he rarely was able to use his amazing fire bending to do so.  

Paper was passed around and people all threw their vote in a hat in the middle. Jesse loudly exclaimed how he was voting for Lil T, which currently was what he called his dick. He must have actually done it too because it lite up when thrown in hat. Must be some enchantment that made it so only the choices could be thrown in. Yorichi slapped him upside the head and he threw in a serious vote. 

As Rock Lee counted them up he tallied them on a score board. Zuko looked desparingly at the board as no tallies showed up for him except one which he first became happy for but realized it was most likely just his vote. 

The final numbers were

Neji-14

Zuko- 1 

Memo-10

“Aight looks to be Neji is our victor!” Yorichi began clapping and most others joined in. “Aight ya all off ya go.” 

Zuko sat sulking at the table a while longer before departing to his room to vent edit. 

Tidus ran to his room as fast as he could. He had his pass to go to beach with Yuna. He quickly showered and dressed himself looking all which ways at mirror before heading over to Yuna’s room. They would have to tag along Rock Lee as a supervisor but whatever he would just hover in corner. Tidus couldn’t have asked for anything better. He had been grounded in his room for two weeks but now he was off. He had to fully convince Akio that all him and Aeirth talked about was ya know her flowers and Sasuke and Yuna. He suspected Akio knew he was lying, he seemed to have that ability to sense so but Akio signed off that Tidus did some rule breaking but nothing major. They never really stated that you couldn’t talk to Camp B, just it was heavily implied with all their phones and other tech not working to see them. He did hear from Sasuke though that it was on Rule Board but literally no one ever looked at that and commanders knew it. 

Akio had known Tidus was lying but thought his date with Yuna would do Tidus wonders so decided the best thing was for his patient to get off probation. 

Yunas door was open so Tidus wandered in. She was sitting on her bed. Lana was laying face down on floor mumbling how stuff was really weird now and what the fuck was going on. Yuna smiled up at Tidus as he entered “Hello! Is it time?” 

“You bet it is!” 

Lana briefly looked up at him and gave him a weird look but he decided to ignore it. Nothing was going to ruin this day for him. 

In Lanas head she kinda really hoped it worked out for Yuna since Yuna was super flippin nice but worried a bit from shit she’d heard and frankly seen Tidus do. She wasn’t around when they dated but Harry and J once showed her a ton of flashbacks of past couples in camp. Lana figured it was Harry trying to impress her but frankly he only showed really fucked up things couples did to each other so she was mostly upset by what she saw and was ready to kick a lotta the dudes in camp right in the ballsack. (She did do one to Squall, who was so confused by the event he laid in his room 3 days trying to figure it out, he ended up rationalizing that his penis somehow musta been showing and she was so offended she used her knee to try to get it back in his pants. He wore an extra underwear on top of his other 2 for months)

Yuna grabbed her rasta coloured bag and followed him out the door. Rock Lee shadowed behind him staring with his weird ass eyes and with a small smile on his face. 

Cloud drove them to the beach not really saying much of anything. Yuna chatted away pointing out spots she liked along the way and saying funny stories she had at some of these spots with her friends. Tidus listed all the people involved in these stories and counted 25 different names in it. Some hang out sessions that had people like Christian or Riku made him really understand she literally hung out with pretty much everyone in camp. He was sure she had but with just her outings on the way to the beach that was all that was listed.

They finally arrived. Cloud checked his watch and said he would be back in 2 hours. 

Two whole hours with Yuna! Tidus was swimming with glee. He had an extra pep in his step as he walked. He really wanted to hold Yunas hand but knew it was too soon. 

Yuna on other hand was happy her and Tidus could talk now but also wasn’t sure if she would ever be able to completely forgive him. On other hand with all J and Harrys meddling perhaps some of the things he did wasn’t all the way him. Was hard to know anymore. She decided to just to take this day as it came. She generally just let her heart lead the way and it hadn’t failed her yet! (I guess she forgot about Axel)

They began just walking around shops and decided to get some ice cream. Yuna was wearing a short flowing hippie skirt but it still was tight around her ass. Tidus really tried hard to not look but was failing miserably. He was feeling a bit self conscious of his outfit; he had decided to change from one he picked out and was thinking he should have gone with that one. (His new outfit was just plain black shorts that went to both his knees**have to preference that with him** and a tee shirt with some skater looking pattern on it. Way better then outfit he picked out lets just say)

They walked down pier eating their cones and talking about stuff that was happening in camp. 

“Its strange don’t you think that they have become so strict lately, don't you think?” Yuna was saying 

Tidus in his head knew he had something to do with this and also all stuff with dark world but with Rock Lee trailing behind he kept it to himself. 

“Yea it really is, I can’t figure out why, like I know we as a whole group get a bit rowdy but as individual camps I am sure its also the same, least know our Camp is.” Tidus paused to lick some ice cream that had dripped on him from his hand. “Mostly I can’t figure out why we can’t at least talk to people there!”

“Oh I know! Makes me so sad! I miss my friends there!” Yuna looked down with a distant expression. 

Tidus for one was happy that some of Yunas friends were in the other camp. He recalled over a year ago talking to Yuna some and Aiden saw. Later that night Aiden came to his room with a bike chain and yelled at him to stay the fuck away from her. He luckily only hit Tidus once over the head with the chain but Tidus figured if he disobeyed him there would be more attacks and with more and more painful weapons. He shuttered thinking of it. 

Yuna noticed it and asked “Is something wrong?” 

“Oh no I am uhh just a little cold, shoulda brought a jacket!” 

“Or here take mine!” Yuna dug one out of her bag. Tidus didn’t think a jacket could fit in there but ignored it. (Yuna had had Harry put enchantment on it like Hermione's bag had so she could carry more stuff. Harry who tried to look really cool about it had said the spell in such a high pitched sassy way it had originally turned the bag into a giant raison and he had to turn it back) 

Tidus couldn’t really fit in the sleeve part so he just laid it over his shoulders. It smelt of incense and some sort of essential oil blend. Tidus savored the scent.

Tidus decided to change subjects and they talked about how the world cup went. He really loved that Yuna was into sports like him. They both were excited that Saudi Arabia won against Argentina. They meandered back over to the beach and were walking down the sand now. 

Yuna despite everything was beginning to look at Tidus in a crush sorta way. She knew she shouldn’t but he would always hold a special place in her heart. He was her guardian, he took her virginity, he protected her. She went on a mission around Spiria to find him. It was easier to look at these memories than the ones at camp. Not that fond memories didn’t happen there but if she thought of camp the bad memories also came in and she didn’t want to face those. She sad smiled as they walked and talked of the blitzball tournament coming up in Spiria. 

“Yeah I wish we could go, it would be so much fun! Maybe I could even compete !” Tidus hadn’t played blitzball in forever. Not enough people at camp could one hold their breath that long and also just really didn’t give a fuck about it. 

“Yea me too.” Yuna said sadly

Tidus heard her tone and decided it was his time to shine. He grabbed her hand softly. She didn’t pull away as they strolled down the beach. They walked in silence for a while. Tidus stopped and turned her to face him. “Hey Yuna look at this!!” He started making funny faces. 

Yuna laughed in her way of holding her hands to her mouth when she thought something was very goofy. “Hey watch this one!” Yuna did a funny face back and they both started laughing. 

“Come on Yuna I know what cha need! Some good old salt water!” 

“But Tidus its so cold!”

“No waters too cold for me!” Tidus took off his shirt and ran into the ocean.

Yuna stood watching him from shore. 

“Come on Yuna the waters great!” 

“Okay I am coming!” Yuna stripped to her underwear and ran after him. They stood a few feet apart splashing around. Rock Lee had also gone in with all his clothes and was standing 10 feet around with same eyes and smile from earlier. 

They stopped and just stood looking at each other. Come on Tidus don’t be a pussy this is when you should kiss her. No if I ruin this it will be years before we hang out again. Dang this sucks what do I do? Why didn’t I talk to Aerith about this? This is much more important then all that stupid underworld stuff! 

Yuna was also thinking of kissing him but was really battling her heart on this one. Much too soon to get that close with him again. She had been celebate for a while now, not that it was her choice just how it happened to work. Perhaps just keep this day as it is and see if more happen like it. That would be a smart choice. She tried to think of what her friends would say but only one she could think of who wouldn’t tell her it was a bad idea was Joni. And she suspected it was because Joni was not very good at not doing what she wanted to do,despite the consequences. 

“We should head back” Yuna began her way back to the shore. 

Fuck I missed my chance, Tidus sighed and followed her back. 

Once they were dressed again they sat on the beach, talking about nothing real big, just small talk. 

Before either one of them knew it Rock Lee told them Cloud would be here soon. They both gave each other a longing look but followed Rock Lee back towards the parking lot. Tidus wanted to hold her hand again but didn't want Cloud to see. What if he told people? He didn’t think he would Cloud didn’t seem to talk to really anyone anymore. All the people he cared about were at other Camp. 

Cloud was sitting in his black BMW that Squall had given him for his birthday. Tidus opened the door for Yuna and sat in back with her. Rock Lee sat in front. Cloud turned up his music, he was playing Avenged Sevenfold. They all drove back mostly in silence. 

Upon return Neji used his byakugan to make sure they had not carried any paraphernalia back to camp with them. Sasuke then used his shaingon to make sure they were also clean.

“Well I will see you” Yuna smiled and began to walk towards her room. 

“Wait Yuna” She turned around and looked at Tidus and he continued “I had a really great time with you today.” 

Yuna smiled “I did too Tidus” She turned back around and continued her walk

Tidus smiled and did a fist bump in the air. Everything for once was going his way.

[maggicktouched]

"Pfffft." She let out a laugh, then muttered a swear word as they went around a curve and it jostled her. "The bag is enchanted; it is an oddity within itself. It has more space inside it than it should, and that alone would be cause for concern. As far as what is in it? I couldn't even tell you. Over the years it has taken on a bit of a life of its own."

Of course she knew some of the things in the bag, otherwise what use was it? But she had a tendency to obtain objects (either through theft or bargaining or the occasional rare genuine purchase) and simply toss them into a compartment. Every time she thought she was going to organize it something came up. Jari hated renewing the enchantments on it because it was such a fucking mess.

"My wand, potions from my friend Jari, spell books from all over the place in a library that has a few sprites that have been squatting in there for years---and they bite when you just blindly poke around in there let me tell you. Uhhh there's at least one flying carpet that I got from a guy in Maine in exchange for a 'pet psychic' session I offered him where I definitely made everything up. Guess I got what was coming to me because it rides about as smooth as a longhorn with a clamp on its nuts. Broke four windows last time it got out. Some hand creams, snacks for the road, a few pill bottles with bullet ants under a stasis spell in them, and at least one jar that when you open it an endless stream of spiders comes out. But it looks like a hand cream. I've been meaning to label it, but I don't exactly know how to read." She shrugged, sitting up when they peeled into the driveway.

Her legs were a little shaky when she got out of the back of the car and followed Dana up into the house. It still didn't look like anywhere she'd been before. She wasn't even sure she'd ever seen this side of DC. There were no pictures of her inside the house (which, she had to admit, would have been more disturbing than affirming). No cat hair either where Angrboda had been lounging on a couch. This wasn't her home; she was sure of that. It wasn't her memories that were off.

"Well I don't have my wand." Beck invited herself into the kitchen, opening and shutting drawers until she found a knife that looked sufficiently sharp and a long dish towel. "But this'll have to do."

She brought the objects to the table, sat down, and motioned to the seat opposite of her. "Here's how this works. I cut the heart vein-" She paused to point with the tip of the knife. "And then I cut yours. We each grab one end of the cloth, I say the spell, and then we both think back on a very specific memory. Eventually our blood will meet on the cloth, and your memory will be implanted into my mind, and mine into yours. Do not go searching for your own answers. Even if you don't see what you expect or want. You're not going to want to see anything else in my head, trust me. Is there a certain birthday of mine you have a particularly strong memory of? It'll be the easiest place to start."

Looking around to ensure no one could see, Scully was aware of that familiar sensation in the air-- the same sensation that caused her to insist that there was as much science involved as there was ‘magic’ otherwise the atmosphere wouldn’t be so physically affected-- that warned of Beck changing into something that while technically normal in the final form, was not normal to anyone who saw the process. 

Hand still on the car door, half in- half out, she turned to see her daughter shift into something she'd never witnessed before, and something she would have been glad if she never had. It wasn't that she had a phobia or any sort of irrational fear of rodents, but mice were just a little jumpy and unpredictable, and she was never keen on the idea of touching their tails.

"A mouse, Beck," she muttered with a sigh, shaking her head as she climbed gently into the car, carrying the mouse with it, "thank you so much." Jamming her key in the ignition once Beck was off her foot and safely out of the way of being accidentally squished by a gas pedal, she floored it out of the lot, speeding through amongst the cars, and slowing down only when she knew there was CCTV to record her, and once she was far from sight of the J. Edgar Hoover Building, she picked the pace up permanently, pushing right on the edge of the speed limit.

"You want Mulder to get your bag back?" She asked in deadpan disbelief. "What exactly were you carrying in there?" And why did you even have dangerous things on you in the first place, she wanted to also ask, where someone could get a hold of it? Why are you on the run? Why do the FBI think you're guilty of several felonies? Why are you smoking? None of this made sense.

Just missing a red light by a tenth of a second, Scully turned a hard right as she neared her place. It was rented, something she'd picked out when Mulder had stopped taking his meds, refusing to share their home until he started getting healthier. He seemed to be better since they'd gotten back on the X Files, and she had crossed the line between their adjoining motel rooms a couple of times, but she wasn't ready to give up her place just yet. Not until she was certain.

"Is there anything you need for us to do this...memory thing?" She asked as they pulled into the driveway of a high-tech rental, complete with fully digital security. "Besides somewhere we won't be disturbed."

[creative-robot]

I’ve been thinkin about the Origins SMP body swap idea and this is how I’D swap them for maximum funnies and frustration, it wouldn’t be a direct swap because there’s 9 of them lol so it’s *~Body Scramble~*

Tommy -> Charlie Slimesicle

Charlie -> Jack Manifold

Fragrance Man (Schlatt) -> Tubbo

Tubbo -> Phil

Ranboo -> Niki

Niki -> Tommy

Jack Manifold -> Wilbur

Wilbur -> Fragrance Man (Schlatt)

Phil -> Ranboo

Conclusion: the first ten minutes are just comprised of SCREAMING

[souyasbabyy]

• pairing: nahoya x gn!reader, emma x gn!reader, hanma x gn!reader, rindou x gn!reader

• summary: a song, a character

• genre: fluff, angst, comfort

• note: yay another one, i finally decided to write for ran and rindou, its only rindou here but yeah. Also, fuck i love nahoya so fucking much bye- please reblog!!

— nahoya - puppy princess by hot freaks

Kiss me Kiss me with your eyes closed Whisper that your heart shows All I want is you

Your professor stopped talking to look at a late Smiley coming in the classroom, he walks to you, telling the guy sitting next to you to move because he was sitting at his place. Your professor didn't wait for him to keep doing his class. You look at your boyfriend "Hi" he says, you smile "Why are you late?" you ask "Didn't wope up" he says, laying on the table and looking up at you "I wouldn't even be here if you weren't in my class so.." he says smiling when he saw you rolling your eyes, the rest of the class he kept his head in his arms, his pinky holding yours from your hand that wasn't writing your notes. And when lunch break finally came he got up, bringing him with him and going to the rooftop to sit with you on the bench, laying his head on your thighs as you were eating "You sure you don't want some?" you ask and he got up "Let's skip this after noon" he says and you just shake your head, he sigh sitting next to you opening his mouth so that you'll feed him "Please" he says, his mouth full and he laugh when you make a disgusted face "Please" he repeat once he swallowed "And what do I win if I skip class with you?" you teasingly ask "A kiss" he answer "No thanks" you say, laughing when you see how offended he looks "I'm joking" you smile and he cup your cheeks "That means you're skipping class with me?" And you just nod before he plants a kiss on your lips.

— emma - enchanted by taylor swift

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home I'll spend forever wondering if you knew That this night is flawless, don't you let it go

You smile as she finally stop walking, her hand refusing to let go of yours as she balanced them together. "Thank you for tonight" she smiles and you look at her, "Yeah, I had fun too" you says biting your lips anxiously "Should I kiss her?" you ask yourself, but even before you could initiate it first, she plants a kiss on your lips. Closing your eyes, your lips start to move with hers, feeling your heart explode. She then took a step back, smiling "See you tomorrow" she says before pushing the door and going in, not letting you say a word. You pinch your lips together, not able to remove the smile from your face. Your hands in your pocket, you made your way back home, almost toddling by how happy you were. And that night you were sure that you were the luckiest person alive to be able to date her.

— hanma - favorite crime by olivia rodrigo

And now, every time a siren sounds I wonder if you're around 'Cause you know that I'd do it all again

Laying on your bed you look at your window, as you could see the blue and red lights through it, the siren slowly disappearing as the car drive away. You close your eyes again sighing again, Hanma's face coming in your mind once again. A loud knock was heard on your door making you jump, about to act like you weren't home, not knowing who was beating the living shit of your door "Babe, hurry, it's me" you hear your boyfriend says and now you were at your door unlocking it. He immediatly come in, locking the door, looking innocently at you, a grin on his lips "Hi baby, I missed you, so I decide to come see you" he says before kissing you, you frown "What did you-" you ask being interrupted by someone else knocking on the door he put his hand in front of your mouth "Shhhh" he says as low as he could, looking into your eyes and kissing your forehead trying to reassure you. You shake your head not wanting to remember the memory, you tried so hard to forget him, but how could you? He was your first boyfriend, the first guy you loved, and even though he broke your heart, it was still beating for him.

— rindou - best friends by rex orange city

I wanna be the one that makes your day The one you think about as you lie awake I can't wait to be your number one I'll be your biggest fan and you'll be mine

He looks at your smile, the way your laugh echoe through his bedroom and he suddenly realise how fast his heart was beating. He even thought he was having a heart attack when he hold his chest but then you put your hand on his arms, asking him if he was okay and he just nod, hoping you didn't saw how he was blushing at the skin contact "Anyway!" he says, clearing his throat and you giggles making him look at you again, a smile now on his face "You're cute as hell" he says, only realising he said it out loud when he saw your eyes were wide open. He stutter, trying to find an excuse before shook expression was remplaced by amusement "Okay, now who's cute?" you say, and he almost pushed you off the bed because he was embarassed, making you laugh even more.

[writefasttalkevenfaster]

Dancing With Our Hands Tied (Part Two)

Series: Undercover Hotch fic/series™

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader 

Word Count: 4,408 | Rated: T | Warnings: swearing, discussion of domestic abuse, possibly compromising positions(?), an almost kiss

Tropes: bedsharing, fake married, mutual pining

Chapter Summary: after holding hotch's hand for a few minutes, it wouldn't be a problem to hold it for most of the morning? because now the retreat gimmicks begin as the two of you search for information while dealing with the events.

A/N: sorry for the delay on part two -- had some family things going on this month <3. look out for part three :) Thank you to @bucky-of-the-opera for always letting me bounce ideas off of her and generally being amazing.

“Where do we start?”

The retreat lodge was larger than you imagined — with sprawling grounds that weren't just limited to the main lodging area where the couples stayed — but extended beyond to woods, hiking trails, and beyond. Hell, you glanced out the window at a nearby mountain, you wouldn’t be surprised if they owned a mountain as well.

“I have no idea,” you murmur, your arm intertwined with Hotch’s, as the two of you stepped into the lobby for the patented mix-and-mingle with the other couples before breakfast. Not only mind-numbing, soul-churning mingling — but with other couples with marital issues -- exactly what every vacation needs, “this place doesn’t seem big on technology — I haven’t seen a single computer or cellphone,”

“The front desk only has paper logs,” he shakes his head, “I asked about the lack of technology in the rooms. A noted policy of no tech — including the employees. I don’t think we are even allowed our cellphones after this breakfast.”

You scan the couples beginning to shuffle down now, “If there’s no tech here, where do you think they keep their guest and employee files?”

“I don’t think breakfast is ready yet, sweetheart,” he replies, as your gaze snaps to his cheeks burning, as you realize a couple approaching your six, “but I’m sure you won’t have to wait too much longer,”

“I’m right there with you,” the husband winks at you, his stomach shaking as he laughs even before he jokes, “if I don’t eat soon, I’m going to lose one of my only reasons for coming to this place,”

And something tells you it isn’t much of a joke either.

“But not the reason for coming here, isn’t that right, dear?” his wife assumedly smiles at you, icily, “Molly Chapman. It’s a pleasure to meet you, and you are?”

You introduce yourself, forcing a straight face on as you manage to say your alias, offering your hand, “This is my husband, Thomas,” as Hotch introduces himself to Molly’s husband, Harry, who claps your boss on the shoulder.

“So,” Harry leans in, almost clandestinely, “what are you two in for?”

“Harry!” Molly chastises him, but her eyes hook onto your expressions, her lips pursed in disapproval if only to hide her smile.

“Well, if it helps, me and the missus here need some help communicating,” he crosses his arms, shaking his head, “never learned much about that growing up,” and he elbows Hotch, “but I’m sure you can relate — we’re practically in the same generation,” And you nearly snort, trying and failing to hide your smile — which Hotch notes, as you see him shoot a small glare your way.

Harry and Molly don’t notice, too busy reprimanding her husband again, before she sighs, pinching at the bridge of her nose, “It’s just as well, we are all going to find out about each other’s problems anyway,”

And you furrow your brow, “I saw group therapy on the itinerary — is it mandatory?”

“It is,” Molly nods, “Dr. Rosen, the therapist who helped design the program, insisted on it — otherwise it would just be a vacation, not a couples retreat,” and she raises an eyebrow, “didn’t you read that in the paperwork when you signed up?”

“I did most of the paperwork,” Hotch intercedes, his fingers intertwining with yours, “my love here was busy wrapping up some loose ends for work so I ended up taking the lead on it,”

“Oh well now I know what’s wrong with you two,” Harry chuckles, as Molly elbows him again, half-heartedly, as he gestures to you, coffee in hand, “you wear the pants in the relationship, got that one wrapped around your finger, now don’t you? Not surprising, with the age gap and all--” as he looks you up and down, winking at Hotch, as you gape at him, “nicely done, sir.”

Your blood begins to boil, several insults picked out and fine-tuned on your tongue as you open your mouth, “Well—”

“We’re working on it,” Hotch clears his throat, jerking his head toward the now ready breakfast buffet, “Harry, it looks like—”

“Food’s on!” and he’s scurrying away to the table, as his wife follows suit, giving both of you a nod, as you glare at his retreating back.

“Food fucking saved his life,” and your eyes slide back to Hotch, as he gestures for you to head over to the breakfast table, “and so did you,”

“Well, I figured you murdering someone on our first day here would attract some unwelcome attention,” he steers you away from the direction of the Chapmans, his hand now slipping around your waist, and you do your best to ignore the flip of your heart, focusing on the fancy finger foods the retreat put out for breakfast, until you feel Hotch’s fingers drum on the small of your back, “do you see that?”

You glance at him, following his gaze until your eyes fall on a door that says ‘Employees’ Only’ around the corner, the manager slipping through the door, locking it behind him. You glance away nonchalantly, helping yourself to some mini-breakfast sandwiches and some fruit, “Do you think they keep the employee files?”

“Maybe,” he breathes in your ear, as he reaches over your shoulder to grab some food, making you shiver at the closeness, “but how do we—”

“Welcome!” a voice booms from the foyer, sweeping arms as he steps forward cutting through the dining room, “Please everyone take a seat. Help yourself to some breakfast.”

You both make your way to a table, and Hotch pulls out your chair for you, giving a small smile, as he takes his seat beside you.

“I hope you all are beginning to get to know each other, but that is not all you will be getting to know today,” he clasps his hands, he bared his teeth with his fake white smile, “I am Richard Rosen, and I will be guiding you through your time during this six-week retreat, where you are not only going to learn about our facilities, about mindfulness, and about yourselves,” his eyes scan the crowd smiling, “you’re going to learn about each other.'

Oh, how wonderful.

You had read up about this guy last night — went to Harvard — Harvard College in Indiana, and got his certification in Psychology after four weeks of surely intense training. After that, he opened his own practice in New York City, which folded after several complaints ranging from sexual harassment to fraud. Unfortunately for his clients (and fortunately for him), there wasn’t enough evidence to get his lack-luster certification yanked. He then moved from city to city, learning from his mistakes, and never stuck to the same city for long enough for someone to catch onto his treatment packaged charade. Until eventually, he settled upon White Mountains Retreat, where he was allowed to stay in one place, but with a revolving door of patients.

He was one of your suspects — no record, but had easy access to the couples, and intimate knowledge of their relationships.

"But our time will begin together tomorrow,” he beams at all of you, “Right now, I'm going to pass it over to the man who you will be coordinating your incredibly list of daily activities during your stay here — the man responsible for all the wonderful memories you will make — Mr. Brock Hillen," Rosen steps aside, welcoming Hillen to take over, and he doesn’t wait a beat, checking his watch before disappearing down a hall.

“Where’d he go?” you murmur, and Hotch shakes his head.

“I don’t know,” Hotch murmurs, lips barely moving, “but do you see that?”

And you spot cuts on Brock’s arms before he tugs the sleeve of his shirt down to cover it, “Could be consistent with causing those injuries our victims,”

And Brock Hillen was no less suspicious than Rosen — with a criminal record to match. With two charges of domestic assault, Hillen already had a history of violence with his ex-wife, but since she divorced him, he has had no other charges. Yet, because of his record, he went job to job, until he found himself as the Activities Coordinator of White Mountain. Could it be that his rage over his wife leaving him led to the murders? Maybe something in the last few weeks that triggered it.

“Hello all!” he greets, holding his arms out, his fake blonde hair nearly blinding under the bright light of the chandelier that hangs above him, “thank you Richard, for that all too kind introduction,” he begins his spheal on the healing nature of the resort, the efforts of his team in coordinating the next six weeks for them, and you begin to lose interest around his third sentence with the word “enchant” in it.

And your eyes can’t help but slide to Hotch a moment, whose arm rests on your lower back still, the metal of his watch gently pressed against your shirt, and you swear his thumb brushes against your spine. You almost want to brush it away, his touch is so gentle, so sweet, so intentional, but it wasn’t — it wasn’t.

“For our first event,” and now you’re blinking back to Brock — to the reason you were here — to catch a killer, “I’m going to have you do one of the very things that Richard mentioned — an activity that will allow you to you learn more about yourselves and each other,” and he gestures around you, “as well as the grounds themselves,” Other employees start handing the couples a clipboard, “your task will be to get each of your stamps from around the retreat — this obviously includes our grounds and other facilities, including our spa, chapel, gardens, and so on.”

“Seems like a perfect opportunity to look around,” you murmur — as Hotch takes the clipboard, flipping through the scavenger hunt -- at least there wasn’t some cheesy shtick to this activity.

“To symbolize the journey you all will be embarking on together as couples, you must complete the task hand-in-hand,” Brock brings his two hands together, “please, there will be staff all over the facilities, if you need a hint, feel free to ask, and I will be here as well to provide any assistance,” he gestures to employees behind the couples, “now, at the sound of the gong—”

At the sound of the what—

And then a loud crash fills the air, rattling your eardrums, making you jump, “Take each other’s hand, and begin!”

Couples begin scattering about, pulling each other along — you spot Molly dragging Harry away from the breakfast table.

And Hotch rises beside you, offering you his hand, clipboard in his other hand, “Ready?”

You glance from him to his hand.

Probably not, but— your fingers intertwine with his, his calloused fingers warm, and the cool metal of his band brushing against your skin—

“Ready.”

What other choice did you have?

~~~

“How many more do we have?” So far, the first few stamps have taken you all around the other facilities — the spa, the garden, the sauna — but none inside the retreat center itself. Not a single one had given you a change to find where the files were kept in this place.

“Two more left,” he murmurs, “I assume the last one will take us back into the main building, so the other must be—”

“At the chapel,” you glance at the map of the place you were handed by an employee who took pity on you two after you had wandered around the grounds — completely lost, “at least we don’t have to bother figuring out the riddles now,”

“You mean you don’t need to bother,” you shake your head, “i’m sorry, I’m just—”

“Are you okay?” he asks, as the two of you stroll towards the chapel, everyone else out of earshot, “the first day can be—”

“No, it’s not that,” you look around the grounds, and you resist the urge to flex your fingers, but he notices you tense — and you know he would drop your hand but he can’t, so he steps away a little, “It’s not you—”

“But it’s you?” he chuckles, as you bite your lip, “I know it’s a lot,” he sighs, as you two reach the chapel, a relatively small building built on top of a hill. It’s a white marble building, its one spire splitting the sky above it asunder, practically gleaming in the sunlight. The double mahogany doors are drawn open for the couples, another just leaving as you two arrive. You watch him stare up at the chapel, “it is for me too.”

You frown, as the employees at the entrance greet you, and direct you to sit near the front together for a few minutes — to take solace in the quiet before you receive your stamp. Hotch hands them the clipboard as you both wander down the aisle together.

The aisles are lined with white pews, light streaming through beautiful stained glass windows. Your footsteps echoed against the stone floor. You step and sit into the pew beside Hotch, sitting back a moment. The chapel itself had no denomination — it was clear it was made for the sake of religious and non-religious functions — likely an intentional choice not to exclude any religion or atheists for that matter.

After all, money was money in their eyes.

You two are quiet a moment, your hands still interlaced for the sake of the employees still watching the two of you, “I think for me,” your voice low, “it’s just weird to be this close with anyone,”

“You mean physically or?” you shrug.

“It’s part of it — it has been a while since I’ve shared a bed with someone,” you purse your lips, “but like you said, it’s hard for me to let someone see me, like all of me,” and you glance at him, “and it’s hard when you’re literally the leader of a team of, you know.”

“I know,” he leans against the back of the pew, “it’s impossible to hide things from the team even when when we don’t spend every minute with them, and now that we’re spending the all of the next six weeks together--”

“There won’t be much we can do to hide,” you nod, looking down at the floor.

And that was what scared you the most.

The employees hand you back the clipboard at that moment, excusing you both back, and the two of you step out of the chapel, “I just want you to know,” you say, as the two of you reach the bottom of the hill, “you don’t have to hide anything from me,” and he raises an eyebrow, as you add, “if you don’t want to.”

“Do most people hide anything because they really want to?”

“No I meant,” you chew your lip, “This is probably hard for you, and I don’t want to act like I know what you’re going through — I don’t,” you would never deign to think you knew what it was like to lose your the love of your life, your best friend, and mother of your child in one fell swoop, “but you don’t have to pretend,” not with me, you want to add, but you don’t — you can’t.

He blinks a moment, eyebrows raising only for a millisecond, before he sighs, “It’s easier to pretend,” he presses his lips together, as another couple approaches, “and that’s what we’re here to do,” and he begins to walk forward, gently pulling you along, as your cheeks burn, your head fixed on the ground, until he adds, “but I appreciate it,” and you meet his gaze, several emotions in his eyes, before he tears it away, “thank you.”

You don’t get to respond, as the two of you step inside to find only most of the couples still hadn’t returned yet — still collecting the last of the stamps, and most of the staff floating around the grounds to corral and nudge stragglers along. And their absence left an opportunity.

So you glance around, before tugging a distracted Hotch along, wandering around a corner, “What—”

And you grab him by the shoulder, pinning him to the wall, cheeks burning all the while, not daring to meet his gaze, but its just the same because you hear the small gasp of your name that leaves his lips in a whisper, and his body tenses against your palm.

You lean up closer, before slowly craning your neck around the corner, “We’re a couple at a retreat looking to sneak away,” you murmur, lips barely moving, as you lean closer, nose brushing his neck — god he smells good — but you refuse to let your lips brush against his skin, “or that’s what it will look like to anyone.”

His tenseness melts away, and he’s pliable to your touch, as your fingers graze his neck now, your thumb resting against his cheek, as he stares down at you — so adoringly as you tug him by the shirt away from the wall, following you with such ease.

You’re next to the employees only door — your fingers reach for the knob, turning — “It’s locked,” you murmur, and his brow furrows, as you cup his cheek, guiding his gaze to the lock.

And he’s spinning you around gently so that you’re pressed to the wall, your breath catching in your throat, as he looms over you, his fingers cupping your chin. His arm around your back, pulling your lower half close to him, but he’s holding the door knob in place while he tries to pick it with his other hand.

Your cheeks burn as he looks down on you, his gaze freezing you in place, far too close — his breath warming your lips, taking the breath from your lungs and replacing your blood with lava. And you can see so clearly — the cut of his jaw, the soft lines of his face, and the curve of his lips—

And then the lock clicks open.

He’s turning the knob, as you spare one glance over your shoulder to see if anyone sees either of you, but then the door is shutting behind you. You feel the wall for a light switch, and you flick it on, while you hear the click of the door locking again.

And you blink, a glorified break room — a few tables and a basic refrigerator stuck in the corner, a worn couch stuck against a wall, and a sink stuck in the corner with a subpar dish rack — far from the accolades that were in each guest’s room — but then again, the employees weren’t paying through the nose for the rooms.

You two stay close, as your eyes scan for anything that could be a camera — even one that isn’t obvious — placed in a smoke detector or lamp shade, “No cameras,” he pulls away, and you try to swallow the lump in your throat, tucking away the embarrassment to dwell on another time (likely right before when you’re trying to sleep).

But then again, the guests weren’t the ones working 18 hour shifts on their feet.

Hotch calls for you, pointing towards a few file drawers stuck in the corner, and the two of you head over, running your finger down the label on the drawers, “These are all client records — administrative, financial — nothing on the employees.”

“They must keep the employee records somewhere else that employees don’t have access to,” and you’re rifling through the folders, for something — anything.

“I haven’t seen any other employee areas,” you shut the drawers, and then you glance around, your eyes falling on another door in the corner of the room — “unless—”

“It must be Rosen and Hillen’s offices,” you walk over, reading the placard — Administration Offices, “locked?”

“This isn’t something that can be picked easily,” Hotch shakes his head, “it has a bump guard — it prevents—”

“--lock bumping,” and Hotch looks over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow, “I’ll tell you my reason if you you tell me yours,

He snorts, “I learned it sometime between 6th grade and military school,” and it’s your turn to raise your eyebrows, “my father — he—”

“You don’t have to—” you shake your head, “unless you want to—”

“I’ll just say, it wasn’t a good childhood,” he raises to his feet.

And you can’t help but give a small smile, “But look at how well you turned out,” and he’s shaking his head, shrugging his shoulders, “Hotch,” you make him meet your gaze, “you’re a good man — don’t doubt that.”

His eyes meet yours again, warm, as he looks away to the floor for a moment, the corners of his lips twitching, “Thank you,” he breathes, and he’s stepping forward, “I—”

And then the doorknob is jiggling. Your heads snap to the door, before looking back to each other.

Shit.

Before you know it, his wrist is around yours, and he’s tugging you to the couch, as you fall backwards onto the soft cushions. He’s halfway kneeling between your legs, his body draped over you, and he’s leaning closer, murmuring an apology as he lips draw close to yours, “Hotch—”

And then the door is opening, as his lips nearly brush yours, “Hey!”

An employee stares at the both of you, as you both stumble to your feet, adjusting your clothes, “This is employees only — what are you—”

“Sorry!” you yelp, jumping to your feet, “so sorry,” and you brush past them, Hotch following at your heels.

And the two of you find your way back to the lobby, your heart still in your throat, as you tug on your clothes, “Thanks for the —” your cheeks burn, “I mean, good thinking—” you shake your head, "you know what I mean."

He snorts, his fingers finding yours again, giving them a slight squeeze, "Anytime," and your heart oh-so-helpfully skips a beat, tongue-tied, but luckily you don't have to response as Hotch glances at you, "you never did tell me how you learned about lock picking."

You shrug, “I have a checkered past,”

“That’s not much of an answer,” and you shoot him a half-smile.

“I have to keep you interested somehow don’t I?” you reply right as Brock begins to speak again.

The event wraps up with another talk from Brock — who has an employee approach him towards the end of his talk, whispering in his ear, and he nods, waving him off, “and one last thing — I know you all came to rejuvenate your marriages and partnerships through this retreat and we fully encourage you to do so but—” you swallow thickly, realizing just which employee must have whispered in his ear right then, “please refrain from doing so in restricted areas that are not for our guests.”

You cannot even bear to look at Hotch, keeping your gaze straight ahead, grabbing a drink on the tray, and sipping at it — and you wondered if you were masking your mortification well.

Probably fucking not.

~~~

Brock then adjourns them for the rest of the day — not wanting to “overwhelm them” on day one (or rather padding their time here with nothingness) — welcoming them to have their meal in the dining facilities or up in the rooms.

Most people head off to their rooms, while others linger in the lobby — chatting amongst themselves — he spots Harry rushing off to the dining facilities, his wife in tow.

The rest of the day goes off without much to-do. Hotch glances around — not a single thing of note learned about the guests or the staff. The other couples are all sociable to some extent — some more reserved than others, but none of them fit the unsub’s types so far — placing you two directly in the paths of the unsub.

By the time it’s time for bed, his body is aching for nothing but sleep — and it looked like you had the same idea. Already slipped under the covers, you’re curled up, half-asleep as your eyes flutter heavy with sleep.

Neither of you felt the need to stand guard in the room — the doors were securely locked for each of the couples, and the team was monitoring the situation at the local precinct. But you both kept your weapons close by — concealed in case someone happened to find their way in.

“Are you asleep?” Hotch whispers, and you mumble, shaking your head, turning to glance at him — your shoulders tense and brow furrowed.

“Is something going on?”

And he shakes his head, “No, sorry,” and you relax back in bed, but your lips still pursed, “I just hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable earlier,” and you tilt your head — and he almost smiles at your sleep-induced confusion.

“Earlier?” and then it floods back to you — as you blink, glancing away from him, “oh—”

He shakes his head, “I just don’t want you to think I was—”

“Hotch, I know you weren’t,” you slowly sit up, “if you hadn’t done that, I think we would have been on our way home on our first day,” you chuckle, “and I know you wouldn’t take advantage — especially when we have a job to do.”

Right, a job, he chides himself, It was a job.

“If you want to sleep—”

“I’m not having this conversation again,” you yawn, turning around and getting comfortable again, “good night, Hotch.”

And he looks at you, a small sigh parting his lips — until he finally settles in bed beside you.

His arm resting across his forehead, he glances at you again. He had spent so much of today holding your hand, his fingers nearly flexing at the memory. It had been so long since he had held someone’s hand, so long since he had worn a ring on his finger, so long since he called someone his partner.

It felt so nice.

Nice — not only because he hadn’t realized how much he had missed having someone, someone beside him, someone there — but because —

Because it was you.

And he knew that because — he didn’t want to let go of your hand.

[theteaisaddictive]

i don't have screenshots of this book bc it is LONG gone to the charity shop but yes, in as old as time: a twisted tale by liz braswell, we are treated to:

belle's mother was the witch who cursed the beast (a solid premise, if one i personally find extremely uninspired)

magical people are an oppressed underclass who face discrimination and there's an underground railroad-esque sequence where some of them hide in belle and maurice's house when she's a kid

these are also described in-text as pogroms. so that's there.

belle and the beast spend a week together in the castle and then they both leave the castle for?? reasons??

i read this book six years ago expecting me to remember the plot is asking too much

i think belle touches the rose at one point and it Fucks Everything Up. which imo is kind of a narratively weak point for the beast's possessiveness and aggression to be justified but whatever

they tease us with a frozen lake and they don't even ice skate on it like they did in enchanted christmas

for some reason belle ends up kidnapped and i think drugged and strapped to a table in monsieur d'arc's madhouse? and there are some . . . pretty fucking graphic descriptions of all the torture he did on the magical people. which would be all well and good, except that this book is on the young end of ya. maybe even 8-12 age range, i don't remember exactly.

it's also just kind of distasteful given that (at least to the best of my memory) the magical people were coded as jewish

belle tells maurice that the beast has changed and is Different Now because She Fixed Him. there is zero evidence to support this. i don't think they even say that they like each other by the end of the book, let alone love each other.

oh yes also belle's mother wonder's if d'arc was right to torture the magic people??

i don't remember why, but something in this book caused me to spawn the phrase 'don't be a bigot, babette'. i have no idea what the context was and i will not be revisiting it to find out <3

and yes, you did read that right, his name is charlemagne 'chip' potts

Chip’s name is Charles?

"Ya-huh!  It's 'cause I chipped my front tooth, see?"

"I want to make it very clear that I gave him that nickname before he fell out of a tree.  It's a common shortening of Charles, where I'm from.  I did not start addressing the boy by his injury."

[beels-burger-babe]

The Façade of the Suitor - Pt. 2

***Wow! You guys are really digging this series! Thank you so much for your support 🥰🥰🥰 I don't get to share OCs often, so it's really reassuring to see you guys take to Harlow. She's a character, that's for sure 😅😅 Thanks for all the love! - B*** Summary: MC catches the eye of Lady Harlow, a higher demoness who has had a small feud with the brothers for centuries. She's determined to steal MC from them and keep MC under her wing. The brothers, however, are determined not to let that happen. Part 1, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

After a week had passed since the ball, Lucifer had dared to hope that maybe that had been the end of things and that Harlow would just leave him and you alone. But fate had never been on his side. A letter arrived in the mail, sealed with a horrifyingly familiar purple stamp and her nauseating fragrance. It was, of course, addressed to you.

Lucifer's nose wrinkled in distaste. He'd have to dispose of this before you ever caught sight of it. He had turned to do exactly that when he bumped into Satan and dropped the letter. Satan sighed and bent down to pick it up. "I thought that you of all people would be capable of watching where you're," he stopped short as he finally looked at the letter. Satan's jaw clenched as he looked back at Lucifer. "Why in Diavolo's name are you in contact with her again?" Lucifer sighed and tried to take the letter back, Satan stepped out of his reach. He glared at the angry demon. "Not that it's any of your business-" "Not my business?!" Satan snapped before Lucifer could finish his explanation. "She turned you against all of us and nearly tore this family a part and you don't think it's my business if you're in contact with that- that- that snake again?!"

Lucifer growled at the reminder of his past failure. "If I had a choice, I would wipe her foul existence from the face of this realm, but I can't. I loath that woman as much as you do. The letter isn't addressed to me. It's to MC."

Satan's eyes widened and quickly looked down at the letter, seeing your name scrawled in her disgustingly perfect cursive font. He dropped the letter as though it had burned him. "We can't let them see this. Harlow shouldn't even know MC exists! How the fuck did this happen?"

Lucifer picked up the letter, " The exchange program ball. Near the end of the evening, MC and I were relaxing near a wall and Harlow approached us." Satan looked at his brother as though he had two heads. "And you just let her?" This quickly earned the younger demon another glare. "We were at a public event where I was representing our House and Diavolo and MC was representing the human realm. There wasn't much I could do without causing a scene." Satan rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in the air. "Of course! You'd let Harlow sink her claws into MC just so you can protect your reputation. I forgot who I was talking to for a moment." Beel stepped out of the kitchen and into the room at the sound of the yelling. "What's going on?" "Noth-" "Harlow's trying to get to MC." The "father and son" duo sneered at each other. Beel's eyes widened as his face paled. "Well, we aren't going to let her, right? We can stop her this time. Now we know her tricks. It won't be like last time?" he was staring directly at Lucifer. The eldest felt his stomach twist and churn guiltily at the desperation in Beel's stare. They all knew from experience just how cunning and manipulative Harlow could be. She had targeted Lucifer specifically, and because he let down his guard, his whole family soon became infected by the demoness venom. He refused to let the same happen to you. Lucifer turned on his heel and threw the letter into the fireplace. The three brothers watched as it slowly was consumed by the flames and turned to ash. "Tell the others about what happened. There's no doubt that Harlow will attempt to reach MC again. It's our duty to stop that from happening," Lucifer spoke up. Beel nodded right away before taking off to obey the command. Satan sighed and glanced at Lucifer, "You know this won't stop her. She'll figure out a way to get to MC." Lucifer continued watching the flames. The fire's glow reflecting in his obsidian eyes like a memory flickering in the darkness. "Maybe so, but at the very least it will give us time to come up with a plan on what to do when she does." In the end, Satan had been right. The brothers worked tirelessly together to intercept any letters, bouquets, or baskets that had been sent for you. Asmo kept a collection of the bouquets and gifts in his room, and simply told you that they were objects of admiration from his fans. You had walked in on Beel shuffling through the mail one day, and he had managed to fluster out an excuse before hurrying out of the room and shoving the most recent letter into his mouth. Mammon became even clingier than usual and was always by your side. Although he was physically with you, his mind and eyes were always looking around you for any signs of the demoness that he was trying to avoid. Satan had worked with Solomon to put an enchantment on the House's gates that caused anything that had recently touched Harlow's hands to be incinerated as it passed through the gate. Levi had been forcing you to watch the top ten anime betrayals and any anime with a manipulative or toxic antagonist in hopes that it would help you recognize them in Harlow if she ever got to you and that you would do the right thing and choose your real best friend him (and I suppose the others as well). Belphegor would purposefully fall asleep on you as much as possible to prevent you from leaving the House and therefore heightening the risk of Harlow coming to meet you personally. Lucifer had begun to do his own research on Harlow, once more, and was looking back on his own past experiences with the demoness to gain wisdom on how to outwit her. Despite all of their efforts, it wasn't enough. You came down to breakfast, looking complexed but intrigued as you held a piece of paper with a dreadfully purple broken seal on the top. The brothers froze as Harlow's familiar perfume reached their noses. Levi swallowed his food as he looked at you nervously. "M-MC, what...what do you have there?" You blinked up at them and held up the paper. "It's a letter from

Lady Harlow. A bat flew through my window this morning with this attached to its foot. According to the letter, she's tried more normal means of communication, but had no luck. Hmm, I wonder why?" you pondered out loud as you continued reading the letter. The brothers exchanged worried looks. Lucifer straightened his posture. "What else does it say?" You barely looked over at him as you responded. "Oh, she has invited me to a private luncheon at her manor. Apparently, she'd like to get to know me better." Your words caused everyone at the table to stiffen. "Seems suspicious to me," Belphie stated as he rested his head on your shoulder. "You shouldn't go. She's probably planning to kill you or something but is just pretending to be nice to get you to let your guard down." You smirked down at him. "Hmmm, sounds familiar," despite your joking tone, you noticed the room tense and Belphie looked away in shame. You frowned and placed a hand on his arm. "I...I was joking, Belphie. You know I've forgiven you for that. You've proved that you've changed. We're okay," you looked around at the others, finally picking up on the tension in the room. "What's going on? Why is everyone acting so weird?" Satan sighed and met your eyes. "Harlow is the Lady of Manipulation. She thrives off of playing with others' emotions and desires to get her own twisted wants." "She's dangerous," Lucifer added. You were shocked to see that he was seemingly unable to meet your eyes. Instead, he stared at his plate as though lost in a memory. "She's incredibly skilled at what she does and will worm her way into your thoughts before you're even aware of what's happening. She's cunning and sly," he finally lifted his head to look at you. You shivered at the intense urgency and regret in his gaze. "Lady Harlow is not one that you should give even a second of your time to. If you give her even a single inch, she will take a mile." You frowned and looked back at the letter. It was filled with so many kind words and eloquent phrasing. She had seemed nice enough at the ball, and she went through all this trouble just to send you an invitation. "Thank you for the warning," you spoke sincerely as you looked at the others. "I'll be sure to keep your words in mind and be careful." Mammon scoffed and crossed his arms. "You make it sound as if you're going." "I am." The room burst into a mix of angry proclamations, commands that you were not going, and pleas for you to listen to them. You smiled sympathetically at the brothers. "I know you're worried, but it would be extremely rude to reject a personal invitation like this from a noble, especially after all the effort she went through to have it delivered. I should at least go to see what she wants. I'll have my D.D.D. on me and you can guys can ask me all the questions you want as soon as I get back." Lucifer's eyes searched your expression in a mix of frustration and desperation. "MC did you not hear a single word I just said? One visit is all she'll need. I really must urge you not-" "Lucifer stop," the room fell silent as Lucifer's mouth snapped shut. His gaze hardened at your use of a command. You sighed and ran a hand over your face. "I'm sorry, but this isn't your choice. I know you seem to have...something going on with Harlow, and I will take caution from your words during my visit. But I'm sure I'll be fine. I live with and have befriended seven of the most powerful demons in the Devildom. What's a silly noblewoman going to do to me?" You gently lifted Belphie's head off of you and rose. "I should get ready for the school day. I'm sorry guys. I'll see you all later." As you left, a small piece of hope from within the brothers left with you. Lucifer snarled and downed a glass of wine. "Right," he said bitterly and looked over at Satan, "onto plan c."

*** I hope you guys enjoyed it! I promise you will find out exactly what went down between Harlow and the brothers later on. But for now, let the games begin 😈 Thanks again for all the support and love you've all been giving this series!***

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