#pandemonium is easy if you lock in

[crumbsispoggers]

ITS THE SINGING TREE REFERENCE FROM THE MONUMENT MYTHOS IM DEAD FRFR

[mortimerc]

𝔄 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔱𝔥 𝔬𝔣 𝔞 𝔠𝔬𝔩𝔡 𝔟𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡𝔢𝔡 𝔪𝔞𝔫.

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 5

Male - GN Reader x Sebastian Solace

TW : blo0d, t0rture, g0re, obsessive behaviour,

(Note: This might be the last chapter but I might write one last chapter that will be a smut so be warned. I will only write it if you guys want me to. Comment on this post if you want to.)

* ‧̍ ˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍ * 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍

The day has come.

Your experiment.

You and Sebastian had been working on an escape plan to get out of this hell. You guys have been planning on this ever since you guys heard of a company called ‘Urbanshade’, the company that was experimenting on Sebastian, transporting him to the ‘Hadal Blacksite’.

The day of the transportation was the same day as you are going to be experimented. And of course, once again you’ll be separated from him again.

Now you and Sebastian are holding each other in your cell, him not wanting you to go, not wanting you to be hurt the same way as he did.

“I don’t want you to go..”

“I have to, and you also need to be ready. Remember our plan?”

“Of course,, but still-“ Sebastian was cut off by a guard opening the cell door, interrupting them. As they walk in, suddenly they forcefully grabs your wrist.

“Hey- what are you?-“

“Let them go!” Sebastian protests

All efforts were in vain as you were dragged out, leaving Sebastian alone in silence soon met with the sound of footsteps that Sebastian knows too well. It was the scientist. His thoughts were interrupted by the cell door opening once again.

“Hello there, mr. Solace.”

Sebastian stays silent and not looking at the scientist.

“I’m sure you know why I’m here. Hope you pack up whatever you need because we’re going now.�� He said while signing the guards behind him to cuff Sebastian.

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦

As Sebastian was slithering alongside the guards, he covers his ears, not wanting to hear the screams that emitted from you, echoing throughout the hallways.

“God..” hot tears trickle down his face.

“You seem to be very close with HR-P (High Rank Prisoner), Z-X. We also call them ‘The Perdition’, and we’re almost done with their document, so tell me more about it.” The scientist questions

“I’m not telling you shit-!”

“Hahah, you’re so easy to rile up. I’ve already know what’s between you two. You two are like two pieces in a pod.”

“Shut up,,”

“Well we’re here. Get in.”

A submarine soon rises to the surface of the water, door opening. The guards pushing Sebastian in.

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦

As they arrived to the blacksite, they checked the surroundings before exiting the submarine. Sebastian takes that chance to hit the guards, attacking and killing most of them while the scientist runs away in cowardice.

The scientist ran into a lab room and called for a lock down, and this is when all it began. Sebastian releasing all of the experiments and marine discoveries found in the blacksite.

Soon, Sebastian heard from one of the guards before killing him, “EXR-P will come here to retrieve the crystal soon, I’ll prepare everything.”

The crystal? Sebastian did research on the crystal and finds out that it is something that provides power to this place. To a normal human being, that might be fine, but Sebastian is not a normal human being anymore. He’s a creature. A monster. He had to stay here. It’s the only place he can hide away.

Before coming to the blacksite, you and Sebastian planned on meeting here, in his makeshift shop. But you’re not here, not yet. Maybe in a few days?

All Sebastian can do is just wait.

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦

As the prisoners leaves his shop, Sebastian is left alone in silence, loneliness that he wished you would fill.

But it’s been years. Years since he has seen you. But you promised. You always keep your promises.

His thoughts were soon interrupted when the prisoners from earlier ran into his shop, panting, panicking and shaking.

“Heh what did you do this time? Run into pandemonium? Hmph, incompetent as always.” Sebastian snarked

“N-n-no n-no, not that thing. It was something else.” They said frantically

“Just get to it.”

“Wh-when we encountered it, I think they was mumbling something about being ‘The Perdition’?”

Sebastian’s face turns pale.

“Perdition? Can you tell me what do they look like?”

“Uhm, I can’t tell. I think I saw a shark tail., I-I- think wings?? And their face covered in blood. Long limbs for sure. I can’t remember more, I was too scared”

They both sat in silence until Sebastian broke it

“… I think it’s safe now, get out.”

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦

As Sebastian roams the hall, he soon smells the stench of blood. Th smell of blood reeks from the other side of that door.

When he opens the door, his eyes landed on horror that people can’t comprehend. The prisoner from earlier dangling on the ceiling, caught up by their guts.

His eyes landed on a person, facing away from him, sitting on an office chair. Their frame looks like he had a shark tail, elongated limbs, ESCA that belonged to an angler fish, and the wings coming from their head making them look like an angelic being.

It all fits the prisoners description.

“We meet again, Sebastian.”

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦

You find yourself embracing Sebastian in your arms, you both missing each other. A long awaited moment, reunion that you both wished for.

“You came back..” Sebastian says with a content tone in his voice.

“I always keep my promises.”

“Why did it take you so long? What happened?”

“It was not easy for me to get here. With the lockdown, I still had to recover from my surgical experiment.”

Sebastian hugs you tighter, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck, almost making a purring sound. Being comfortable in your lap “I miss you..” he said while lifting his head, looking into your eyes

“I miss you too..”

You two sit there in silence, and slowly but surely, you both close the gap. After a long and passionate kiss, you both pulls away, panting.

“I’ve always wanted to do that.. for a long time..”

“I love you, Seb..” you said while pressing your forehead against Sebastian’s.

“I love you too, [Nickname]…”

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦

To be continued..?

[cryptidko]

Pressuretober Day 4 - First Death

(link to prompts)

Flash fic, Pressure OC, no warnings.

You know those days when you're like, "this might as well happen"?

(entry under cut) (press for higher quality pic)

The first angler was a scare, the second fueled his paranoia, but by the third they had already become merely an annoying situation.

It got repetitive real fast.

Open door, lights flicker, find locker, wait, hide.

Open door, hear screams, find locker, wait, hide.

Open door, huh look I'm at room 70, lights flicker, find locker, wait, hide.

Open door, lights flicker twice, find locker, hide hide hide fast.

Open door, lights flicker, pssht, this is easy, find locker, wait, hide.

Open door, god this is boring... Find locker, wait hide.

Open door, see Eyefestation, bolt to next door, door 80, fuck off Eyefestation, hear screams, sigh, walk to locker, hide.

Open door, oh damn, door 90 already?

Open door, door 93, I'm so close...

Lights flicker, again? This is so repetitive, find locker, there's no lockers.

Fuck

Fuck fuck fuck.

Travis bolted through the room, the next door being locked behind a keycard, not having time for that he whipped out a code breacher, bought it from that... thing earlier, he couldn't focus on that right now, he could'nt die, not now, not being so close to the crystal.

Click click click,

The code breacher almost jammed for a second, the floor under him begining to shake in anticipation, a low rumble that had become annoying once again putting fear into him.

He swallowed nervously, the hair on the back of his neck standing up.

Click, beep!

The door opened in a swift move, he didnt take any extra time and ran to the first locker he saw, not even checking for a void mass.

Lucky there wasn't any, and he entered the locker just in time, a sigh of relief almost leaving his lips.... but he kept that breath to himself.

There was something off about this angler, something different... new. It didn't just pass through...

It stared right at him through the small openings of the locker, and it slammed onto it, attempting to open it and gnawing at it with it's teeth.

It's eyes were locked onto Travis, he did the same back at it, this was no normal encounter, this was war.

Pandemonium slammed against the locker again and again, eyes focused on the expendable in the locker, fixated on getting him, on getting the little snack inside the metal box.

Travis grabbed anything he could in the locker to keep the doors shut from the inside, in any way he could, palms stuck to the metal box, keeping his eyes on the new threat as well.

It felt like the locker would become his coffin anytime now, the metal cage getting smaller and more deformed with every hit from the damned angler...

But it gave up, swimming away in defeat, as Travis had somehow managed to out last the thing.

What felt like hours of fighting ended up in less than a minute, his heart settling at the end of his throat, it's desperate beat pushing, rushing blood to every part of his body, loudly overwhelming his hearing, giving him a terrible headache.

He groaned, but couldn't help to let a smile tug at the corners of his lips.

As soon as he could he was getting out the locker, now fully smiling, his lungs giving a big sigh of relief, hand still grappling the handle of the locker door, coughing, panting for air, his vision unblurring slowly.

What a fucking thing that was. He told himself cracking a small laugh, running his hand though his forehead and then hair, feeling the sweat on his skin. He looked around the room quickly, knowing couldn't stay in this place for too long, his heart almost threatening to stop at any moment, but he wouldn't let it do that, not before the crystal.

Still shaking he moved on to door 95, no lockers in sight, but he didn't realize that in at first, his vision still blurry and the sound of his own body being too loud to focus on anything, too loud to hear the faint screaming coming towards him as he approached door 96.

By the time his breathing finally steadied, he was right in front of the door, adrenaline still pumping through his veins.

Looking back at how fast everything had happened, mixed with his state of pure thrill, he had somehow managed to concoct the thought that pandemonium had been easy! After all he survived that thing on his first try! He smiled proudly at himself, a smirk adorning his bloody lips.

After getting done with his small moment of reckless pride, he turned around to give the room a last look, only then hearing the screams getting closer...

closer...

closer,

Closer.

"Well, fuck."

His smile dropped, being quickly replaced by a look you'd only see in the office, looking at an imaginary camera in sheer disappointment, not even anger, skipping right through the stages of grief onto acceptance.

And pinky passed right through him... So close to the sun was Icarus, but his cocky attitude left him to fall right to his death.

[five-crows-in-a-trenchcoat]

hi silver sorry to bother you but have you defeated pressure yet? do you have any advice im struggling ( ＞Д＜；)

I have defeated pressure! last time I beat it was my 6th win; and I was inconsolably mad because I was aiming for a damageless run and then misclicked a single cable at the very end of the game (so finished w 95 health) so, here are my ‘pro’ gamer tips:

Don’t use light sources unless it’s a blacklight. It leaves you both at risk of squiddles attacks, and makes you dependent on light sources in general. I’ve legitimately ONLY been attacked by squiddles when I wanted to get the document on it. Turn your brightness up instead

Pay attention to the sounds more than your sight. Each version of the angler + pandemonium and a60 all have different sounds and gimmicks. It’s important to be able to distinguish which is which. Here’s my guide for the monsters:

Anglers/rush-based monsters

Regular angler: regular scream, regular rush time. pretty basic stuff. Wait until you hear its actual high pitched scream before getting in a locker.

Pinkie (pink. duh): doesn’t flick the lights, but scream is a higher pitch and can be heard from much further away. try not to panic, but it’s important to keep an ear out always.

Blitz (black): extremely fast, but the lights flicker twice. Beeline to the nearest locker and get in pretty much as soon as you reach it.

Chainsmoker (green one): very, very slow, and sounds a little like a single-toned scream with rattling chains. You have to wait until it’s practically on top of you to get into a locker bc it forces you out of the locker much faster than usual.

Froger (orange): angry kinda scream. Like william afton it comes back. Upon the first rush, wait until it doubles back, then get out of the locker but stay next to it. It will come back again. Get back in the locker. After that it should be gone.

Pandemonium: it kinda ‘sings’ ig, it’s not a regular scream. Slower than most of the angler variants but not quite as slow as chainsmoker. If you struggle with its minigame, side rooms, vents under the floor, or making your window smaller are your new best friend. These work for the other anglers too, of course.

A-60: kinda has this faint ‘pixely’ scream, very easy to miss. Get to a locker or side room. When its message appears you’ve got like, 4 seconds? To get out of sight. It’s probably the hardest to see coming which is why it’s the rarest.

Other monsters

Void mass: also pretty easy. Makes a bubbling sound when you’re nearby, has a puddle underneath it, and also, the obvious glowing eyes. When you approach a locker, look up through the slots to check if it’s empty. I recommend multiplayer bc someone can still get you out.

Wall dwellers: controversial opinion but they’re also pretty easy. If you do struggle with them you can turn around midway through each room, but they have audible squelchy footsteps and you can hear them peeling out of the wall as well. If you’re really paying attention you can even see them in the walls while you’re passing through, they have these weird stretch marks to outline them. Theres this one room especially with that weird green and black mould that you can see a fantastic example of. Also benefits with multiplayer bc there’s more eyes to scare it off. Same with squiddles, I’ve only died to them when I wanted the documents.

Eyefestation: often in an eyefestation room there’s a short period where you can see a little flash of it, or the door locking behind you if it’s a gauntlet. Run as far as you can in that window. Other than that just beeline for the door the best you can.

Good people: there’s the sparks, of course, but press your ear to the wall next to it and listen for growling. If you hear water or some other ambiance like the fans, it means it’s safe, however, so not all noise is bad. In a dark room or after an angler, the real door’s lights will also be out while the fakes remain lit up.

Turrets: “If you see me, no u didn’t :<“ wait to check their patterns before anything else. Hide where you can of course, and try to follow its sweep where you can. And flip the lever to disable them if you can, of course. Even if pai insults you, better to be berated by your worstie than to be dead.

Searchlights: do not rush it. In the warehouse, follow after it to give you more time. You can hide underneath piles of boxes, the forklifts and in shipping containers (as well as the lockers). In the final searchlights encounter, go for the most risky cables FIRST and the underground ones LAST. Go underground as few times as possible, as it makes it more dangerous by cutting off a lot of your view. Trying to go for the one right in the middle with three of them right on top of you is rough. This usually saves you with the remaining cables being in safer places the further you go to cancel out the difficulty as best as possible. In the final manoeuvre, do NOT hide in the submarine as it makes it even riskier by cutting off your peripheral. Watch the light patterns and then go for it. Wait in the middle underneath it bc it only kills you if you go in the actual light. Always works for me. Another controversial opinion but the warehouse is harder than the final fight.

Sebastian: don’t flashbang or climb on him. it’s rude. Also, make sure he’s happy when you leave. I don’t think there’s any real change but I find its bad luck to leave when he’s pissed at you. Buy his medkit and code breaker if you can.

Other dangers

The Ridge: there’ll be an angler or pandemonium in almost every room. Open the door to the next room and then wait by a locker in the previous one until the threat has passed. Do not panic, and BE PATIENT. Sometimes it takes a while when it passes through. Also, any good people will have light spilling out from under the door. With the music, wait for the angler to leave and then kinda just avoid it or speed through it as best you can. If you’ve got code breakers, save them for either the ridge (or paranoia’s box if you manage to come across it.) As long as you stay careful and make sure you know where the lockers are, it’s not as daunting as it may seem.

Parasites: just stay in the light, you’ll be fine. It’s pretty forgiving

Hazards: just avoid them. Don’t jump in holes you can’t see the bottom of. Dont walk into the fire. Don’t swim in lava. Don’t touch the electrified water, there’s a way to disable it/go around it. Wait for the right time between the fans. Ask @revenyance bc they’re an expert on how not to do that last part.

The pipe puzzle: try to go from the end rather than just the start.

Vent/pipe maze: always take a left turn and eventually you’ll find your way out.

major, all-round tip summary:

-keep sound high and preferably play with headphones. Turn on deaf mode if you have hearing issues.

-fuck light sources, I hate those guys. Go max brightness instead.

-try try and try again. You’re never a bad gamer so long as you’re having fun and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise :>

-try to keep at least two code breakers with you until the end for paranoia’s box or the ridge

-if you’re still learning the ropes, play multiplayer or with your friends! If you die first it’s still good experience seeing them and getting practice for further rooms. Also helps with some of the monsters in general.

Hope all of this is helpful! (Sorry that its a bit wordy) 6.:}

[asnowfern]

Part 2 of the Lady Death drabble I wrote for Nesta Week! This time in Cassian's POV.

Part One I AO3

Cassian sat slouched into the armchair,  absentmindedly swirling the bottle of wine. He groaned. Nesta goes into seedy taverns all the time, picks up males all the time. There was no reason for today, of all days, to feel shittier than usual. Yet, he raised a palm to his chest, rubbing circles and frowned. Today was different, agitation pulled at his heartstrings. 

He was too drunk to fly. He knew that objectively. But that didn't stop Cassian from spreading his large wings and hopping off the window of the House of Wind, taking into the air. Despite his high tolerance to the chill, he shivered and rubbed his chest again.

Nesta. Something was wrong. 

Cassian instinctively activated his shield as a blast ricochet through the air and shook Velaris. Pandemonium erupted as screams echoed throughout the city. Now sober from the adrenaline pumping through his blood, Cassian soared through Velaris towards the source of the explosion, his jaw locked in tension.

Nesta.

A familiar silky tendril slid across his mental shields. He opened a window. 

Cassian. It's-

Cassian did not need him to finish, Nesta. I know, I've got this.

Rhy replied after a minute pause. Feyre and I will meet you there.

Cassian felt his anger flare, a beast within him snarled against the notion. He argued, No! I've got this. 

Cassian. The voice turned stern, a brother turning into a High Lord. 

Trust me. He pleaded.

A pregnant pause. 

Thirty minutes. A concession. 

Cassian sighed in relief. Thank you.

Be careful, brother. 

I will.

Cassian inhaled sharply as he reached the forest, or what used to be a forest, north of Velaris. Miles and miles of forestation cindered into ashes.  He lowered himself, circling the area. The air was frigid, sinking the cool autumn night into a wintery tundra. Cassian found himself shuddering once more. He followed the tension in his chest until he spotted a familiar form lying facedown on the ground. 

He swiftly landed and turned her around, sucking in a deep breath as he did so. Her body was cold and clammy. Months of malnutrition had oversharpened the beautiful angles of her face while dark shadows made permanent residence under her eyes. Cassian's heart paused as his heightened Fae hearing strained for a heartbeat, only resuming when he located the faint but sure lub-dub lub-dub of the muscle.

Cassian forced the panicked cries out of his tightened throat, gently shaking her emaciated form, "Nesta, Nesta, Nesta!" 

Nesta's eyelids fluttered in answer. Cassian scooped her up, his grip tightening at how light she was. He pressed her tightly against his chest as the tension in his chest eased. Thank Gods she's alright.  

He tapped his siphon and carefully launched them into the air. He felt Nesta shift in his hold before softening into it, like a puppet with cut strings. 

"Cassian," a whisper so soft he almost missed it, "You came." 

His heart twisted painfully. Oh Nesta, I never left . 

As the House of Wind came into view, Cassian slowed down. He looked down at the relaxed female in his arms and cursed softly, banking at a nearby building to turn away from the house. He effortlessly broke all the locks on Nesta's door with a single kick, scowling at how easy it was. 

His steps hitched as he took in the scorched marks and broken mirror in the apartment. He gently set her down on the bed, relieved that her heartbeat was now stronger. He tugged the hair out of her face, his mind replaying her words.

You came . 

The realisation nearly brought him to his knees. Did she not know that he was always with her? How much she meant to him, how her heart held every beat of his hostage? He promised her time, a dying declaration sealed with a kiss. How could she not know?

He swore, as he picked up her book from the floor and settled into a chair next to the bed, that he would just need to keep reminding her until it was seared into her soul.

***

"Good morning, sweetheart" he greeted teasingly as Nesta blinked her eyes open. He watched in amusement as the sleepy pair of blue grey eyes registered his presence, quickly sharpening in the process.

"What are you doing here?" She snapped, sitting up, fingers pinching her nose bridge.

"Can't leave you alone unconscious in your apartment when the locks are all broken." He answered easily, flashing her a white smile.

Nesta's eyes narrowed, "Why are they broken?" 

She harrumphed in annoyance when his smile widened further and accused, "You brute!" 

Cassian's heart soared at the fire entering in her eyes, a hint of the Nesta he knew. 

"What was I to do? The doors were locked," he shrugged and asked innocently, "Should I have brought you to the House of Wind or River House instead?" 

Nesta's eyes widened a fraction and conflict overtook her expression, as if it was incomprehensible for him to have chosen what she wanted. The moment passed before truly settling, "I'm up now. You can leave." 

Cassian stood, rolling his neck and shoulders, "I'll be back later today with the locksmiths." 

"No need," she said curtly, "I got it covered." 

Cassian barked out a laugh, remembering how easily her locks came apart, "Your locks were pathetic. You need better ones." 

Nesta ignored him, ushering him to the door, "Don't bother. Go back to whatever you're busy with." 

Cassian grinned, giving a small salute with two of his fingers, "I'll see you later, Nes." 

Nesta scowled as she slammed the door in his face. 

Cassian returned that afternoon with a locksmith in tow, installing sturdy bolt locks on her door, and every other day after that. Some days he used food as a reason, others he just showed up. 

"Why are you here again?" Nesta asked flatly as she opened the door to his shit eating grin. 

"I brought dinner," he strode through the door, raising the brown bag in explanation, "Chicken and mushroom pie and steamed greens."

"No," she crossed her arms, the words which clearly nagged at her, spilling out, "If this is Rhysand's way of keeping me under surveillance from that outburst then you can just leave now." 

Cassian's jaw tensed as he bit back a defensive comment, "Rhys didn't send me. Nobody did."

Nesta threw him a pointblank stare, clearly unconvinced, "Then why are you here?"

The words stirred within him, full of uncertainty. Memories of Nesta's broken expression as she pleaded him to get up, as she admitted she couldn't leave without him, flashed across his mind. "Because," he took a deep breath, "Because I promised you time. So this is me, finally fulfilling that promise." 

Nesta stared at him unseeingly, that she too, was lost in the pivotal memory which should have changed them forever. The thick iron walls she built around her faltering as she said weakly, "Nobody expects to actually fulfill a dying promise." 

The grip on his heart tightened once more. How could he have failed her this badly? To allow himself to distant from her so much that it left their bond in tatters. 

"Nesta," he started, "I meant every word I said. You're hurting and I'm done letting your defense mechanisms push me away." He reached forward to tuck a stray strand behind an arched ear, "So I'm here to stay, Nes." He smiled softly, "Ok?" 

When Nesta didn't respond, he gave another encouraging smile and squeezed her hand lightly, "Let's eat." 

Nesta nodded jerkily and turned mechanically to get the cutleries. Cassian let out a breath.

You came. 

Nobody expects to actually fulfill a dying promise.

Everyday. He would be here everyday for as long as it takes. They had time now and Cassian would be damned if he lets it get squandered away.

Thanks for encouraging me to write this💕💕💕 @reverie-tales @c-e-d-dreamer @banasheefan56 @unlikelypersonalknight1

[pleb-the-original]

Day 3: Construct

(ok so I kinda didn't want to do another a- monster but the entry just intrigued me too much.) Alright welcome to Agrippa duty. How bad did ya fuck up? Don't play coy, you had to fuck something up to end up down here. Ah, there it is. Yeah, I can see why they sent you down here. Anyways, this is your orientation as a new employee working for the care and keeping of the Elders' agrippas. What is an agrippa you may ask? Well, have ya heard of the Liber Primus? Big magic book with a human soul inside? Think of that, but a demon soul instead. Basically a long long time ago back when the humans up in Europe were in castle times, a bunch of priests managed to capture some demons and stuffed them into books. You'd think this would've been an issue, since, ya know. Humans stuffing us into books. But instead of doing something actually helpful with the potential crisis on our hands, the Elders decided they wanted in too. Now soul manipulation back then wasn't as refined as it is today, especially dealing with hellfire remnants. Research hadn't gone too far into figuring out the specifics in using hellfire remnants to form a soulfire with only a few successes such as that cat gal. But the Elders tried anyways. They plucked a handful of flames from a couple fires, placed them between the pages of a book and closed it shut. No I am not joking that is actually how they did it. The worst part was that it worked. I could go on about intention powering magic and the Elders heightened capabilities but who gives a shit about that? Not the Elders after having new toys to play with. They basically used the agrippas like journals, documenting their sacred knowledge inside. Some of them actually did useful things with their agrippas like collecting research notes. But some of the others one just wrote whatever the home was on their mind. Before you ask, the only one that didn't participate was Dantalion. I'm surprised he actually didn't say anything considering everyone was ripping him off. Maybe he knew what was to come. Because yeah, turns out stuffing an entire demon into a confined prison and feeding it untold wisdom does in fact lead to bad things happening. The agrippas got hungrier for knowledge. They soon became feral and started eating anything with information they could find. They even managed to trap normal demons within their pages by shutting them inside. It was mayhem! Once the Elders got their agrippas together, they locked 'em away down in the deepest bowels of Pandemonium so no one ever has to learn about one of the many times they fucked up. Oh yes this isn't the only incident, trust me. Working down here, you get to learn a lot about their dirty laundry. You can't ever let them know of course but trust me, you'll learn a lot. As for what we actually do, we just do rounds to make sure the locks are stable and the books are complacent. If they do get rowdy, you just gotta swing on by a booth to find a book to read to them. I am not kidding. Does this face look like it kids? No? Good. We do get assigned specific agrippas to deal with just in case they get out. And you gotttttttt……Vassago's. Eh, not bad. His gets a little testy sometimes but it ain't too bad. They must've gone easy on you. Yes, this is going easy. Trust me, things could be a lot worse. You could have gotten Andras'. I know right? If you do see any of the guys working with that one, just give them a hug. Or a pat on the back. Or anything really. Just don't make any sudden movements around them. Or the agrippa itself. Actually just stay as far away as possible at all times. You can tell which one it is by the caution tape…and the acid stains…and the paint. But I don't think things'll too bad for you. I mean you're only assigned down here for a couple months. Just make sure when you get outta here not to do anything to make them wanna send you back. I hate it when I get repeats.

[cxffexngel]

[ @aaetherius ] A small starter just because.

It isn't exactly an easy thing. To re-tell long lost tales and woes of the dephs of his memory that Sandalphon simply cannot rid of even in those days where he tries pushing those memories down with the strongest hand he can. No. It still somehow comes back one way or another.

And yet, even as millennia have passed both so slow and also in the blink of an eye; after going through hell and back, catastrophe after catastrophe and still somehow coming back with his body more battered than the last, he still continues to live. Amidst grief and pain and sadness and much deeper feelings he can now mame but still can feel like deeply sunk thorns that are there to stay forever, he still lives on, and for once in his life he has a way to deal with it. For better or worse. He doesn’t know, but such uncertainty doesn’t scare him anymore as it used to. Not when surrounded by many bonds, some that forced their way through flames and thick ice that covered his withered heart that only now has let itself try and accept this new warmth that the current supreme primarch has been given the chance to taste.

Honestly, he still has days where seeing Lucifer feels like a sick joke from the depths of his mind, a long dream of things he doesn't deserve dangling infront him and believing every single of said miracles while also waiting for the knife to rip him apart from this paradise in the most painful way anytime. Yet it still never happens, and its been years, or more - Sometimes telling time apart even when living within the intricate thing that makes up for the fresh, old wood of the Grancypher’s walls is both easy and also difficult. Easy when needing to tend the cafe or clean and stock supplies, help in some missions Gran asks him for or he is the one to voluntarily step in. Even then, there's still times he loses track of time - holidays pass, enjoying them with Lucifer or the crew before crashing back in his shared room with the other and almost hibernating like those creatures from islands that exist in thick winters and spend many moons in slumber. It’s only because Lucifer and the others that he hasn’t been locked in his room unlike in the past when he had first arrived.

Not that he minds. It’s been a rather hard, but pleasant existence that he is determined to keep. Still too good to be true in his tattered heart but stubborn enough to fight for it, should it come down to even claw his way out the deepest pits of pandemonium once more. ( But at this point this being impossible with it’s existence having been destroyed a while ago. )

“ I…. I think I can tell you. “ His voice is solemn, a bit detatched even. But theres a small, timid and tired smile that Sandalphon still manages to manifest as he sits by the now much more comfortable bed that the angel shares with the other. A much needed upgrade ever since sharing rooms and having to make up for the rather hilarious mess of limbs sometimes it means to have multiple wings fitting and tangling between one another into a mass of feathers. Devoid of his armor and even heels, only comfortable pajama pants with fluffy fabric that the other had got for the other, and his signature skin tight black suit with exposed arms and shoulders. A bit relaxed despise how his voice lets out things he had never spoken nor even let himself try and actually think about for so, so very ling. “ About the scars. The ones on my back specifically. “

A part of him still doesn't want to. Not because he doesn't want lucifer to know. Oh he wants him to know entirely because the other had once, and just once said how he wanted to share the burden, to know and truly see the truth as what it was and have Sandalphon's side of what happened in the past, after many of their meetings slowly becoming strained on Sandalphon’s side along Lucifer’s less frequent visits because it was foolish to pretend that nothing happened. Or that at least the air had shifted in some way - that the light in Sandalphon eyes at some point had faded almost completely if not for the fact Lucifer would grace his existence finally after long, gruesome time he really wishes he could forget how long they took. No - a part of him still hesitates because he can feel the other will hurt. Feel maybe powerless when it’s obvious the former primarch obviously didn’t have any power in what was done in the labs. No one really had but the astrals and researchers themselves honestly. But still. Especially because he knows, those heavy ‘what if I had done this’ are hard to ignore as he’s also weighted by many of those, but at the end, Lucifer deserves to know, however it takes him to unravel this tight knot that firmly presses at his core like a parasite that wont be gone even if miraculously someone finds the cure to millennia long of inhumane experiences that not even primal beasts with the curse and blessing of sentience should have ever been subjected to. “ I hope it’s… Not too sudden, honestly. It can wait. “ It was his way to let Lucifer have a choice as well. His gaze is on his hands that rest on his lap, kneading lightly in the fluffy fabric of the pants he dons while fair, wild locks of brown lick at his temple and nose as Sandalphon doesn’t meet Lucifer’s eyes, his back exposed through the window of his suit where it’d let otherwise twelve brilliant wings sprout any other day, or simply his own two aurburn ones in more casual days.

[sciencestyled]

Chaos, Mischief, and the Fine Art of Utter Pandemonium

There I was, minding my own business (yes, really), flipping through Midgardian channels with no small measure of delight. Humans, it seems, have mastered the art of befuddlement, spinning endless tales of order and control. They think they can tidy up the entire cosmos with mere charts and timetables, as if they’re locking away their laundry. Yet they fail to grasp that, much like me, the universe loves nothing more than a bit of havoc. And so, what do I find? An old bearded scientist droning on about “order in the universe.” I nearly choked on my ambrosial mead.

Naturally, I’m compelled to intervene. The problem was clear: humanity needed a reminder that the cosmos thrives on unpredictability. No better messenger than yours truly, Loki, God of Mischief, Prince of Pandemonium, Sultan of Surprises. But how? I needed a way to worm my way into every mortal’s smartphone, TV, and, dare I say, podcast queue.

It came to me in a flash. I'd orchestrate a spectacle on the very concept humans fear most: chaos. Of course, I wouldn’t simply scare them off with a crash course in mayhem (too easy); I’d play the wise teacher, the sage of… “Chaos Theory.” A bit of irony, don't you think? Me, explaining “the rules” of something that supposedly has none? Perfect. A sprinkle of Newton, a dash of quantum mumbo-jumbo, and, for the pièce de résistance, a deep-dive into that thing they call the “Butterfly Effect.” Oh, I could practically hear the mortals gasping! Just one measly butterfly flapping its wings in some corner of Midgard, and—boom!—your weather forecast’s up in flames!

To get a feel for the human reaction, I tried it out on a few Asgardian folks. Thor, bless his heart, was baffled. "Why would anyone want to listen to you talk about tiny creatures flapping about and weather disasters, Loki?" he asked, scratching his hammer-wielding head. But I saw it in his eyes—the curiosity, the uncertainty. He’ll never admit it, but Thor’s as clueless as a squirrel in a whirlwind when it comes to concepts that don’t involve brute force. If I could get him perplexed, Midgardians wouldn’t stand a chance.

It didn’t take long for the idea to spiral out of control. I soon realized I’d need some visuals. And a human narrator, too. No offense to my velvety voice, but my true visage can be a bit…distracting, and I needed people to actually listen. So, I hunted down a mortal who could manage this without screaming or falling over. Then I set to work.

A little here, a little there—I threw in some math formulas, the kind that makes Midgardians’ eyes glaze over, and a few classic examples of utter chaos. I even sprinkled in bits about stock markets and weather patterns, just to drive home that everything humans cling to is as stable as a house of cards in a gust. It was going to be a symphony—ahem—a true display of unpredictability’s charm.

At last, my masterpiece was ready. And now, it waits in the mysterious web called “the internet,” a place mortals approach with reverence and bafflement alike. Once they hit “play,” they’ll find themselves teetering at the edge of comprehension, wondering if that cup of coffee they spilled this morning could one day cause a typhoon in Tokyo.

Chaos, you see, is not just a theory. It’s a way of life.

[cruoren]

the duality is narrowed down to a simple distinction between the mythology and its drafters, enacted like a tangible charter. it is ultimately the divine type of law that, when commissioned by those able to control it, spurs a pandemonium that is unmatched by any other in deriving the affiliation of the masses. ❝ dare i disregard your directives? ❞ the rhetoric is halfway to jest: the upturned corner of his mouth, bearing a hint of fang.

❝ waking to the barrel of a bounty hunter’s blaster at my throat is not a thought i find thrilling, ❞ the supreme leader tilts his head in amusement, as though the notion of an assassination attempt over breakfast were endearing. ❝ or would you employ a finer touch? ❞ ren turns the previous considerations over in his mind as he forces attention toward the chancellor's historical tirade, knowing he will benefit from this information when he is seated at the table, convincing autocrats of that which they seek to hear. divine law, he thinks — the empire had always been a cult hidden behind the same curtains of inept bureaucracy that doomed its predecessor and stifled military. he does not want a cult, but the notion of bending the force into a vendable thing, a myth in a can, is something else entirely. it is the complete control over the narrative. what better way to amass support than to convince one's allies of impunity, immunity, and invincibility? what is more indomitable than gods?

❝ what will you be doing, whilst i entertain them with these riveting tales of our institution’s pride and unity? ❞

he has to work to recall the minuscule details, those fragments of the past buried in a dusty box, locked and stored in the shelved crevices of the heart. it creeks with disuse, these memories left unturned which take to atrophying. ❝ i thought you would make a worthy ally or a significant foe, ❞ he remembers the steadiness of hux’s presence in that dark chamber. conspiracies had dotted the man’s aura like a constellation, a fabricated cluster of bright facades, a contained supernova awaiting its turn to eviscerate. even now, ren thinks he is still dismantling these endless aspects, tinkering with them in his mind's eye. the scene between them here, now, is fervid with pretence, glass in a desert, the breaking down of their constructed godhood behind closed doors. hux adjusts the medal on his uniform but disarms him with words. ren is turned inside out by the use of his name, each syllable imprinting between his ribs, a momentary staggering in his threaded apathy, espied through the slight furrow in his brow. when he leans closer, it is near impossible proximity, heated and fervent, ❝ but you are mistaken; it was not disappointment i harboured. irritation, perhaps. intrigue. you are not less creature than i and i have never denied you that. ❞

he resists ensnaring hux's wrist when his hand reaches for his hair 'lest he lean into it. the molten pool of his gaze steels itself. with one gloved hand tucked under his chin, the other snakes around his waist, covetous, ❝ you haunt my every waking hour, chancellor. for my dreams, i command respite. ❞ through the leather, the teeth that sink into his glove graze the flesh beneath, thrumming. ren huffs in a wordless complaint, empty arms now crossing over his chest as the chancellor slips away from his grasp.

man or monster? the question reverberates, like lined metal pendulums knocking against each other. ❝ i parade around for the public in the mask you’ve forged. you tell me. ❞ being a knight had been easy, trainable; polity pervades the better half of his present days, wasting time he could spend mastering the unknowable and playing at man proves difficult when his mind creeks with shadows, something ancient slithering to and fro in his peripheral. he'd rather it were hux's figure plaguing his subconscious than the disembodied remains of his old master. ❝ the power you hold when you seize a planet and render it to its core, stripping it of its resources, ❞ man or monster, the question echoes in his mind. ❝ imagine that power tenfold. the dark is a landscape to be exploited. ❞ a hand is waved toward the viewport, the surface of eriadu, and the stars, and beyond. ❝ this is all an idle distraction; the might of the order pales in the face of my capability. if that makes a monster of me, so be it. you are no better. ❞ and i would not have it otherwise.

turning, ren finds his way to the metallic table, leaning against it. he toys with the holopad for a moment before switching it off, obscuring the guidelines it had been projecting. ❝ i will propel our initiatives, but i will do it my way. i’m not a bureaucrat and they will not have that of me. ❞

Within the constitution of rebirth is destruction. Above all lies that divine truth. The putrescence of a decaying doctrine must be scoured by extirpation. Only then can one rebuild upon the ashes of dreams devoured. Such is the burden of their foreordained supremacy.   And yet, the path ahead is rarely rectilinear…

As the green of Eriadu pans into view, a symphony of nostalgia erupts within him. Not for the planet itself, but for the ceaseless wilds that span beneath them, devouring the paling flecks of civilization. There is some primordial wisdom known by none other than those who have endured the heart of the jungle and outlived its rapacious wrath.  ( An acuity that thrums within him even as the ages weather the vessel of the mind. ) Thus are the despots of Eriadu. ❛ How kind of you to notice. ❜ The airy din of his tone barely disguises the spritely stroke of cynicism. ❛ Precisely, ❜ The Chancellor drawls. Subduing his stirring exhaustion coincident with this impromptu history lesson. ❛ It was through the Grand Admiral’s esteemed affiliation with Moff Tarkin that we were able to retain their loyalty to the First Order. ❜ Billowing garberwool whisks across the cold durasteel floor as he advances. ❛ Unfortunately, Snoke’s redirection of First Order resources during his ascendance yielded waning support from our, once loyal, allies. ❜ The exasperation of his sigh is palpable, echoing into the ether. ❛ The Tarkin family’s fidelity is a catalyst meant to invoke the fealty of several other planets whose cooperation is crucial to the advance of our expansion. ❜ Flinty eyes immure Ren in a hellacious stare. ❛ Therefore it is imperative that you uphold the integrity of the First Order’s projected campaign. Today you are a symbol above all else. An idol of order and austerity. ❜ 

The probity of the question arrests him, in kind with the spark that ignites with the entanglement of their gazes. For a moment, he feels oddly human. —A fissure cleaved within his facade of stolidity. Yanking back the diaphanous layers of fate’s elaborate guise. 

He remembers, then, that they are both mortal, despite the illusion of divinity forged by deceit and ruination.

❛ Of course I do. ❜ His lips twitch upward slightly as he pins the medals neatly in perfect symmetry. He traces each one with a fingertip idly as the reminiscence of that day whirs  to life in the archival recesses of his mind – the dimensions of the room, the frigid blue of Snoke's soulless stare, the restless tremor that pulses through Ren's being the moment they locked eyes for the first time in the ghastly antechamber. ❛ Did it? ❜ He hums, a soft little chuckle. Pale lashes kiss freckled cheeks and for a moment he is years younger —teeming with untempered venom. ❛ I was far from intimidated. Were you disappointed? ❜ 

Their gazes collide. He suppresses the inherent impulse to sink his teeth into the hand perched beneath his chin —a frighteningly gentle gesture. His heartbeat thrums in his ears in a short crescendo, fading beneath an icy rush of practiced apathy. The Chancellor dissolves into the caress. Venom green irises alit with a sly gleam, mouth the imprint of a crescent moon curving elegantly across a starless sky. ❛ You have always been a beast, Kylo, ❜ he chimes melodically.    But you are my monster now.   A subtle sweep closes the distance between them,   ❛ You simply fail to perceive that I too am a predator. Though void of claws and pointed teeth. ❜    The serpentine smirk lingers idly, roguish eyes cloud with an amalgam of secrets churning slowly with a deep abyss. ❛ Perhaps it is I who haunts your dreams, Supreme Leader, ❜ Armitage coos whilst a fingertip glides languidly across Ren's temple, tucking away a stray lock of hair. He tilts his head ever slightly, gazing upward through his lashes as his voice melts into a husky murmur. ❛ How long have I been the eidolon of your nightmares? ❜ Teeth sink into leather, sharp and swift, leaving a subtle imprint around Ren’s thumb.

He glides just out of reach, jade eyes lingering analytically— as if peering beyond the stygian nebula of multifarious shadow. ❛ What do you see when you gaze upon your own reflection? Man or monster? ❜ Between the emulsion of guile and apathy a vulpine grin flickers. ❛ What do you see when you look at me? ❜

[enigmatic-robin]

Nygma’s Game

Jonathan Crane/ Edward Nygma

1624 words

Jonathan thought he was decent at staying out of the way of other rogues. He did his best not to step on their toes, and he was ultimately left alone. Sure, he went to meetups at the iceberg lounge when he knew everyone else would, but he was polite and never turned down a conversation or stepped out of line. So naturally, he was… caught off guard, to say the least, when he entered the warehouse he used as a lab to find one wall with words seemingly spray painted against it in bright green.

‘YOUR TOXIN HAS BEEN SNATCHED AWAY

TO GET IT BACK, DO AS I SAY

IN A PLACE I USED TO HIDE

BETWEEN A PANDEMONIUM AND A PRIDE

CAN'T FIND YOUR CLUE AND UP TO YOUR NECK?

SIT DOWN AND THINK IT OVER A SEC’

Delightful, The Riddler. Just what he needed today. Crane pinched the bridge of his nose, looking back out the way he came. Luckily it was early, the sun was just setting. He sighed and grabbed a pen and some paper, resting at the desk. He had some decoding to do.

—

Jonathan made a list of places he’d heard Edward mention staying in to begin with;

Candle factory

Gotham zoo

Under the subway

Park row apartment

It was an easy one, given the options. The use of ‘A pride’ instead of ‘pride’, as if it was something tangible, not a feeling. A pride of lions. A pandemonium was a group of parrots, and between the two exhibits in the Gotham zoo was the one Riddler had commandeered years ago; the giraffes.

Jonathan would’ve been a lot more proud of himself if he didn’t need to actually go there, but oh well. Wasn’t like he could work without the supplies his colleague stole anyways.

—

The zoo, at night, was much more active. Nocturnal animals were awake and sharing their displeasure of it now that the general public had filed out; the lions were remarkably easy to find with one loudly voicing his claim on his corner of the zoo. As he expected, between the lions and the giraffes was a human sized door with keys already in the lock.

He made his way in, immediately having to duck away from curious heads trying to nudge through the bars separating the giraffes and the elevated workers area. The skinniest one, likely a juvenile, stuck his head through, however, and it made an odd clinking noise. Jonathan reached a hand out, resting it on the giraffe’s nose while the other reached to undo a light chain draped around its neck, pulling it back through to to his side. He unlooped a pouch attached to it, pulling out a key, a canister of his stolen toxin, and another riddle, because of course there was another.

‘YOU MADE IT, ‘WELL DONE!

YOU SOLVED RIDDLE #1

KEEP GOING TO 2, I’D ADVISE

REACH THE END FOR YOUR PRIZE!

A DR LIKE YOU WOULD KNOW THIS PLACE

EVEN AFTER ITS FALL FROM GRACE

A PLANT THAT DOESN'T GROW IN THE EARTH

IT STILL OFFERS LIFE IN THE FORM OF REBIRTH

WATCH YOUR STEP TO THE END OF THE WALK

IF YOU FALL YOU'LL BE IN FOR QUITE A SHOCK’

It was obvious. So obvious.

He hated it.

——

Ace Chemical Plant was a very useful place for those villains brave or crazy enough to face it. The birth of the joker and the origin of Twoface’s scarring were cautionary tales, and they never replaced the part of the catwalk blown to hell by the explosion with Harvey.

Every second there was more unnerving.

Jonathan grasped the handrail tightly; he wanted the Scarecrow to stay behind a MASK, thank you. The catwalk creaked under him as he walked, ominously crunching more as he passed the location of Harvey’s explosion. At the end of the catwalk, a long, thin box sat locked.

Jonathan knelt very slowly, unlocking it and opening the top to reveal a sickle with- you guessed it- another riddle.

‘ONCE AGAIN YOU SOLVE MY QUESTION

NOW IT'S TIME FOR YOUR FINAL SESSION

FROM HERE YOU CAN SEE OUT FOR MILES

I BRING YOU METAL, WOOD, AND TEXTILES

WHEN THE FLOOR BEGINS TO ROCK

FIND THE DOOR IN MY COLORS AND KNOCK

PS: I’VE NOTICED YOUR SCYTHE IS TOO LARGE FOR SMALL SPACES, PLEASE ACCEPT THIS SICKLE AS YOUR CLOSE-CONTACT WEAPON’

Jonathan blinked, turning his attention to the sickle. He turned it in his hand, then took a test swing, and another. It was well balanced, and fit his hand well. It was… thoughtful. Very. He tied it to his belt, holstered safely, before turning back. He’d almost forgotten he’d need to take the catwalk again.

Fuck.

—

The dock rocked with the waves, leaving Jonathan to fight to stay standing. He swayed with the wood under him, keeping an eye on the buildings and boats along the shoreline. In the sea of browns and reds and blacks, the green door with the purple knob and trim were glaringly obvious on the side of the dock. He stood in front of it, knocking on the door three times.

He heard a clatter, followed by shoes on the floorboards as the door swung open. The Riddler smiled at him, only looking vaguely out of breath.

“Jonathan! You made it! Lovely to see you, come in.” He insisted, leading Jonathan down a hallway. It led to a large, dimly lit storage space that seemed to be lit mostly by green neon signs- likely stolen- and a lamp that was definitely stolen. There were mostly bar adjacent furniture, like a pool table and tables with chairs, a jukebox that was certainly going to be working soon if it wasn’t already, and of course, an actual bar.

“I have to say, I wasn't sure if you’d make it. I ran you through the ringer, making you run across town basically for something I know you could easily make more of.” Edward admitted, taking an already filled wine glass from a table before perching himself on top of the pool table.

“There are two glasses on the table for you, a wine glass or a liquor glass, help yourself to anything you’d like”.

Jon took the liquor glass, filling it with liquid from an unlabeled crystal tumbler.

“I have no idea why I humored you. Or what I did to cause this little… game,” He admitted, trying some of his- yeah, definitely scotch. “Was there a reason?”

Edward actually seemed speechless for a second, staring down into his glass.

“No, no, purely for my entertainment, my friend.”

“And the gift? Somehow I feel you’re lying to me, ‘friend’” Jonathan drawled back, keeping an eye on Edward, who stammered.

“I- a LIAR? Wh- how could you- how DARE you” he snapped, arms crossed in a way that almost looked defensive.

“You have to remember, I’m the Master of Fear. I know what anxiety looks like”

“I suppose you would, wouldn’t you?” He acquiesced, leaning forward a bit.

“You know what? I don’t know why I bother. You should be grateful, and if you aren’t, that’s your problem. It was a test”

That was… intriguing.

“A test? A high school dropout, testing a PHD-MD? Why the hell would you do that?”

“To see how compatible we are, if you’re worth my time. No use in being pretty with no brain to back it up- of course, my affections may have made me go a bit easier on you than I usually would,” Edward admitted, swinging his legs thoughtfully.

Jonathan on the other hand…

“…what?”

“Oh, maybe I gave that brain of yours too much credit.”

Jonathan was still very clearly confused.

“You don’t mean…?”

“Oh my god, must I do everything myself?!” Edward grumbled, hopping off the pool table and crowding Jonathan. He craned his neck up, looking genuinely frustrated.

“Just- down. You’re just- you’re tall. Excessively so”

The redhead pulled Jonathan down, holding his face.

“You see me? We’re on the same level now, yeah?”

“Edward-“

“I. Like you. I think you’re interesting, and I actually get stimulation from talking to you, you understand what I say. That’s hard to come by for someone of my intellect, and for me to like being around you on top of that? Unheard of! So I’m going to ask you; would you be interested in this? With me?”

Jonathan analyzed Edwards face for a moment.

“… You mean this. You really mean this. Yes, I suppose I would be interested”

Edwards face split into a grin, and he leaned forward, locking Jonathan in a long kiss before letting him straighten back to his full height.

“Good! Good, that’s excellent news.”

He shoved his hand in Jon’s shirt pocket, taking his phone before he could protest.

“I’m putting in the number of my current burner. If I get a different one, I’ll find you and let you know.” He explained, not bothering to apologize for taking the phone. He tossed it back and Jon put it back in his pocket.

“The fact that I gave you mine and didn’t ask for yours instead? That’s your last chance to back out. If you aren’t sure, don’t contact me. Consider it Pandora’s box; once it’s open you can’t close it again.”

Jon raised an eyebrow, taking the phone back out. He chose Edwards number, just sending a ‘J’ before looking at Edward expectantly.

“Or you could… do it now. Alright” Edward muttered, wide eyed.

“You realize you’re completely entrapped now, I hope?”

“… I hope to see you again soon, Edward” Jon muttered, his lip twitching up into a smirk. He left, pulling the door closed behind him, unaware that he’d managed the impossible. He’d left Edward completely speechless.

[sleekervae]

The Neighbour [3.6]

Masterlist

A/N: when I tell y'all I was in the horniest fluffiest mood...

Also if you haven't seen yet, I made updates to the previous chapter that gives this chapter a lot more context. So if you haven't, please go reread that chapter and you won't be frustrated with this chapter ☺️

Also -- WE FINALLY GOT FEVER DREAM!!!

Warnings: slight bathroom smut (wrap it before you tap it), super duper fluff, boys being boys

A raucous pandemonium rocked the smaller house in the West side, lights ignited and blown to their full capacity with the bass of Dua Lipa's latest album thundering through the floors. Ten to twelve people were gathered within Caity's house, the camaraderie buzzing and the alcohol plenty. It felt normal, too normal despite all the chaos. Emerson had to pause momentarily and wonder if he was in a fever dream of his own, until he looked down and realized he was smoking another blunt.

Despite the smaller crew laughing, dancing, and catching up over their separate Halloween plans, nobody had noticed the absence of two of their friends. They all passed the guest bathroom plenty of times, giving the closed door no second thought. Cloistered within the dark powder room, the music and party muffled beyond the tight four walls, Remington and Eva were tangled in both lips and limbs.

Like a claw lock his hands gripped her hips, holding her against him as she sat up on the sink counter top. Her once-cold hands were warmed up under the thin material of his suit jacket, pleased and exhilarated that Remington chose not to wear a shirt underneath. He was so close to her, consuming her every sensory receptor and yet she couldn't enjoy him fully. How easy it would be to unwrap him from his jacket and slacks, and yet Eva had to wait like an impatient child to get her presents on Christmas. Her only reprieve was rocking against him gently, grinding her hips into his. And from the way he clutched and pawed at her, Remington was restless. On the one hand, he enjoyed teasing her relentlessly; on the other, all he wanted was to take her hard and fast against the bathroom counter.

Caity would fucking kill him if she ever...

Though all thoughts of pause and rational action were scarce to them both. Eva clung desperately to him, her head tossed back as he tasted the sweet salt of her neck with his tongue, soothing the love bites with gentle kisses that made her heart flutter and her stomach coil. His right hand slid under the soft velvet of her dress hem, crawling higher and higher up her thigh until he could stroke over the wet spot of her panties. When she shuddered against him, his smile mirrored that of a smug demon, bending her to his will with hardly a touch.

Just behind her, a long bathroom mirror reflected back their image in what little light was available to them. Remington stole glances between kisses, his dark brown eyes glued to the curve and ripple of her spine, mesmerized by her hair swaying briskly from side to side. He couldn't bear to tear his gaze away from the mirror, his lust for his girl clouding his recollection for just how they wound up here in the first place...

*14 hours prior*

The house was relatively quiet this morning, the birds were chirping happily outside, watching the neighbours hang up their last minute Halloween decorations whilst a dozen or so kids ran to catch the bus in their varied costumes. Masked and gloved, of course.

Emerson was still sawing logs as usual, none the wiser to the bouncy Spotify playlist that Remington had blasting in the kitchen. He danced about to Doja Cat while he waited for his vegan french toast on the griddle. He was buzzing over a number of things; Chris would be coming over with the band's first completed demo, he was eager to celebrate his favourite holiday, not to mention he hadn't burned the coffee this morning!

When he had finished his culinary exploits he slid the toast onto a fresh plate, set it under the hot lamp over the stove (it's purpose he only learned of a few weeks ago), grabbed a fresh cup of coffee and bounded up the stairs -- careful not to spill, of course.

His room was moderately dark, light creeping in within the sliver between the black out curtains. Remington placed the mug on the dresser drawer and gently drew back the curtains just a crack to let in enough light. Within his bed, Eva slept soundly on her side, nonplussed to the influx of light.

To say aloud that Remington enjoyed watching her sleep may sound a little unorthodox, but he couldn't help it. She radiated a warm gentility, her darling face peaceful and her eyelashes fluttered delicately. Her notebook was flipped open on the side table, droplets of her pen ink staining the page. It was too tempting to crawl under the covers with her, feel her soft skin against his own and drown out the world beyond this bedroom was too enticing to pass up.

Nevertheless, he hopped onto the comforter beside her, pulling it down to gaze upon her naked flesh. He peppered kisses up her spine and across her shoulder, smiling to himself as she shuddered awake.

A sleepy smile graced her face as she turned over, his warm brown eyes a welcome sight to bring her back to reality. She was pleasantly perplexed to see he was already awake and dressed, his black and yellow Homies toque just perched over his brow.

"hi,"

"hi," his chest swelled with a comforting warmth, embraced in her sweet smell and ever calming presence, "Did you sleep alright?"

"I did," she nodded slowly, murmuring "How long have you been up?"

"Long enough to make us breakfast," he replied.

"You made breakfast?" she raised an eyebrow, delightfully surprised.

Remington nodded with a great pride, "And a good cup of coffee this time," he pointed to the steaming mug of the dresser.

"Oh my goodness!" Eva gaped, "And what have I done to acquire this five-star service?" she adjusted the cuff of his toque over his eyebrows.

"Just being in my life was plenty enough," and he brushed the tip of his nose against hers. She pouted playfully before reaching up for a good-morning kiss.

Remington quickly ran back downstairs to let Eva get dressed. After doing a quick stretch she got up and reached for the coffee mug. It didn't smell burnt, so she was satisfied at the drastic improvement already. The flavour was rich and only had a slight bitterness to it. Eva smiled to herself with content, settling into the at-home feeling as she went to get changed. She hadn't moved in by any means, she felt she was no where near ready for that commitment and she still enjoyed having her own space. However, she and Remington both offered each other a drawer for the spontaneous sleepovers and forgotten morning necessities.

Meanwhile down in the kitchen, Remington continued to bounce around to his playlist while he served up the hot breakfast. He set both plates down and some condiments on the clean table that overlooked the lush and vibrant horizon of 9am Los Angeles. He had maple syrup, peanut butter, a bowl full of fresh berries, and most important of all: Nutella.

Eva descended not a moment later, dressed in a simple t-shirt and cotton shorts with her mug clenched between her fingers. She was taken aback to see the lovely breakfast laid out for them. The smell was delectable and made her mouth water, the tile floors were warm beneath her bare feet.

Soft hairs suddenly rubbed against her shin and Eva grinned when she found Pluto at her feet. He purred as she rubbed between his ears just the way he liked. Between her floozy feline, the beautiful breakfast, and Remington's music, Eva had never felt more at home before. And she watched with sheer amusement as Remington tirelessly rummaged through the fridge for...

"What're you looking for?" she asked as she pattered over.

"Whipped cream," Remington replied, huffing under his breath in frustration, "I bet ya Sebastian swiped it last weekend,"

"It's okay," she simpered, wrapping her small arms around him and resting her chin on his shoulder, "I think we have plenty of condiments,"

Remington eased into her grasp, sighing in defeat as he closed the fridge door, "Eh, you're probably right,"

Eva smirked when he met her gaze, "Not to brag or anything... buuuut usually..."

"Get over there!" Remington chirped, swatting playfully at her butt as she ran to the table.

It was easy to say Remington was a tad nervous when Eva dug into breakfast, always having struggled immensely when it came to the kitchen. He blew a subtle sigh of relief when she praised him for his creation, her toast slathered with maple syrup and berries while his had Nutella and banana slices.

"So," Remington mused as he ate, "I have a plan for the day,"

"Lay it on me," Eva chirped.

"I'm gonna do some work with the guys for a couple hours, then I thought maybe we could either check out the haunted house display at Venice beach --"

Eva raised an eyebrow, "Venice Beach does a haunted house?"

"Every year," he nodded, "Not so much scary as it is gimmicky but it's kind of fun. Or... we could go see a real haunted house,"

Now her interest had been peaked and she leaned across the table, "What makes it haunted?"

"Well apparently, there was a plastic surgeon who lived in this house in the 60s. He did one too many botched surgeries and he disposed of his victims in the incinerator in his basement," he flourished his hands in the air to further his narrative point, "Legend says you can hear the screams of his victims in the halls, and the incinerator just up and starts running without anyone touching it,"

Eva smirked, "You're full of shit,"

"I'm not!" Remington exclaimed with a laugh, "It's up in Pasadena!"

"How'd they catch him?" she asked.

"His housekeeper found the remains when she was looking for Drain-O and called the cops," he replied simply.

She shrugged humorously, "Well, I still call bullshit. I'm down, though! Let's go check it out!" she exclaimed happily, "What time is Chris coming over?"

"About an hour," Remington checked his phone for the time, "How's the flight hunting been?"

Eva shrugged listlessly, "There are a couple flights that opened next week, I could be back in Seattle the latest Friday,"

His face fell a little at the mention, "So, you're really gonna' go?"

She nodded slowly, "The blood type matches, so the next step is taking some sort of tissue exam to determine whether the cells will work together or something like that,"

"Are your siblings doing the test?" he asked.

"Little brother is out for the count, so it's down between me, big sister, and littlest half-brother," she replied.

Remington swallowed quickly, "So, if you come out as a full match --"

"Then momma gets a kidney, I guess," she huffed, bordering on exasperation. The thought of it was was exhausting, though despite her perils Eva did her best not to let the situation overwhelm her. After all, she was only going home to a family with more cracks in it than a restored Grecian vase.

Remington was careful whenever he broached the topic; he respected that she was in a precarious matter and despite his best efforts, she was adamant that he shouldn't come with her. And in hindsight she was right. Having a first-meet with the family while your mother is in the hospital probably wasn't the classiest move in the dating playbook.

"We'll get through it, though," he assured, in the back of his mind sure he wasn't making her a false promise, "And if you do go under, I'll be here for you when you come back. You can have all the ice cream and chicken soup you could want,"

Eva's expression lifted, she inhaled deeply and a small smile wormed its way onto her face, "Well, you've got me intrigued after this breakfast. Eat your heart out, Post Mates,"

"Don't get too excited," Remington pointed out quickly, "It will be Campbell's,"

"I'll take what I can get,"

They cleaned up the dishes just in the nick of time as Sebastian had come to the door shortly after. And lo and behold, they had to literally drag Emerson out of bed again.

Eva rushed up to have a shower and get cleaned up for her day. She knew Remington would be a little longer than he'd planned for, though she was equipped appropriately with the mountain of work she had to complete before her weekend could properly begin.

Remington sat at his grand piano, practicing the same melody over and over again whilst he waited for his brothers. It was the same melody of the same song that had been a passion project of his for the last couple of years.

He didn't hear Emerson patter inside; towelling off his damp hair whilst he followed the gentle baritone melody. He peeked over Remington's shoulder, sleepy eyes falling on the lines of open scribble in Remington's notebook.

"You're still obsessing over that one verse?" the youngest queried.

"It's not just one verse anymore; it's two verses and a half a bridge," he proclaimed, continuing to play in perfect timing.

"Can I see it?" Remington didn't hesitate in sliding the notebook across the sheet rack.

Emerson didn't question Remington's tenacity; it had been a long time since his brother had been so impassioned about something that wasn't just partying, alcohol, or travel.

The lyrics on the page were familiar -- a deep thematic masterpiece that he and his brothers had been trying to get down on paper for years. And yet, it was so difficult to conceive of a masterpiece if you weren't sure what it was you wanted to express clearly. Emerson had remembered quite clearly running through renditions of this song with Remington and Sebastian over and over, and yet despite Chris' advice and guidance, they just couldn't pen down a chorus no matter what they thought of. Nothing fit.

Remington then stopped playing, "I didn't make much progress since the beach house," he admitted.

Emerson shrugged, listlessly tossing the notebook on the cover of the piano, "Well, maybe today's our breakthrough day? I'm gonna get some coffee," and then he pattered off into the kitchen.

Remington shook his head behind as he turned back to the worn black and ivory keys, muttering to himself quietly, "Kid could sleep through a fucking world war..."

Chris was practically bouncing off of his heels when he arrived to the house. His equipment was plugged in and his laptop was already running the latest demo for the guys' newly updated single: No Love In LA. The catchy punk pop rhythm blasted through the first floor, reverberating out of the open windows and no doubt peaking the interest of the usually not-so-nosy neighbors. Across the street, Candance couldn't help but glance in shock out of her window at the sudden disruption in her quiet morning.

Eva could hear the music pulsating from her shower, and she couldn't help but dance about (safely, mind you). Even muffled out between walls, floors, and doors, Remington's gravelly voice bore its way through her ears and rattled down to her chest. She was fascinated with how he sounded so brittle and stentorian at the same time, hearing him now brought her back to the first time she watched the Anxiety video; she was so entranced by how powerful he appeared and yet that side of him coincided so well with his softer side.

God, six months blew by so fast...

She smoothed down the skirt of her sundress as she descended the staircase, her papers and laptop clenched tightly beneath her arm. The dwindled music echoed through her ears as she scampered down the hall.

"HI EVA!" Emerson shouted suddenly.

Eva nearly skidded into the wall, only dropping her papers on the floor. She smiled sheepishly as she recovered from around the corner. Sebastian -- the gentleman that he was -- helped her clean up her notes.

"HI EMERSON!"

Remington crumpled up a loose paper as the boys laughed, then tossed it at Emerson's hat-adorn-head.

"Tryna' take my girl out!?" he boasted, "Already took out Henry! When does it end?!" but Emerson caught the paper ball and hucked it back at him

"DEATH TO ALL HENRYS!" Remington opened his mouth to try and catch it, but it simply bounced off the tip of his nose and rolled across the carpet.

Eva glanced to the eldest brother in perplexity, "Who's Henry?"

"Remington's potato," Sebastian replied, nodding soulfully as he was always bewildered when that phrase left his lips.

"He was my best friend!" Remington pouted at Emerson, playfully staring him down, "And this serial killer spilled his starch all over our tour bus!"

Chris snickered to himself, "... Spilled his starch..."

The young writer looked between the boys, opening her mouth momentarily though thought better of it before she stepped back and hopped into the kitchen. The echo of the boys laughter bounced in her ears.

Eva had her laptop set up on the kitchen table, the window panes casting thin shadows from the blaring sun across the furniture and the continuous tick-tick-tick of the wall clock being drowned out by Eva's own music. She glanced at that clock momentarily; she remembered fondly Remington and Emerson bickering back and forth as to why they had that clock in the first place -- considering they always had their phones on them. Remington was all for getting rid of it, but leave it to Emerson to develop an appreciation for the run-of-the-mill time piece...

She was at a bit of a loss this morning -- all of the sudden picking and zeroing in on the smallest domestic details of the house. Back in her shower, she spent a good three minutes finding every fleck and chip in the wall shelf that held their hair products. Maybe it was because she was booking her flights next week, or maybe Eva was realizing that she was finally comfortable with calling this house -- or more, the people in it -- her home. She had never felt more at place anywhere in her last couple of years than she did within these walls; and not just physically but emotionally as well.

The piano flowed gently through the room, accompanying Remington's soft singing voice whilst he practiced the verse again and again, willing some sort of creative breakthrough to hit him when he needed it most.

"Don't look around at all the faces abound Don't look behind you 'cause we are stuck underground Can you see the words I'm up here trying to preach? No need to cry, you'll never find me trying to leave..."

"Sexy," Chris nodded, "Just like last week --"

"And the week before," Emerson chimed in.

"But it's not working," Remington kicked at the base of the piano.

"C'mon man, don't be hard on yourself like that," Chris told him, "You think Bohemian Rhapsody was written in a day?"

"Besides," Sebastian did a stretch in his rolley chair, "We don't have to work too hard today. Maybe we could... I don't know... enjoy the fruits of our labor for the day?"

"I'm down for that!" Emerson raised his hand with lacklustre.

Chris nodded as he pondered, although he had a different idea in mind for the boys' morning, "Or... or we could work on a different song,"

"Which song?" Remington asked. Chris stayed silent momentarily, staring at him in a way that reminded Remington of Pluto's telepathic stare when he wanted something deeply. It didn't take two shakes and an equation for Remington to catch on to what Chris was hinting to.

"No," he said quickly.

"What 'no'?" Sebastian asked.

"He wants to --" he paused momentarily, leaning over to peer around the small corner of an empty hall, "He wants to work on the song I'm writing for Eva,"

Sebastian gave him a blank stare, "... And?"

"C'mon, I don't understand," Chris whined, "You were pumped to work on this song last week,"

"Because the object of this song wasn't sitting in the very next room last week," the singer replied.

"She's working on her shit!" Sebastian said, "She's got her headphones, she can't hear us,"

"How do you know?" Emerson asked, "Maybe Eva's only pretending to listen to music and she's eavesdropping on us instead?"

Chris's brow furrowed, "What is she, a Russian spy?"

"I just want to keep her at bay until I'm ready to show her the song," Remington said.

Sebastian then stood up whilst smoothing out his slacks, "Well, how about we go see?"

"Go see what?" Emerson asked.

"The Supreme Court dismantling democracy," the eldest replied, "-- Eva,"

The boys got up quickly and scurried into the hall, piling over each other into the mouth of the kitchen. Eva had her back to them, her earbuds plugged in and hanging from wires that bounced as her knee shook from beneath her seat. She wrote swiftly on her paper, glancing up now and again at her screen.

Sebastian smirked, "Watch this -- Eva!" he suddenly shouted. Nothing, so he tried again, "Eva!" still nothing. Sebastian glanced back at Remington, "See? She can't hear us!"

Just as he spoke, Eva paused when she noticed the odd reflection in her laptop screen. She sat up and turned around slowly, meeting the almost comedic sight of the boys stacked upon one another as they watched her. She popped out an earbud.

"... Hey," she greeted.

"Hi Eva!" Chris waved.

"Did you happen to hear us call your name?" Sebastian then asked.

She shook her head slowly, "No. You guys need something?"

Remington piped up, "Nope! Everything's fine. Thanks baby!" he grabbed Sebastian by his collar and then dragged him back to the living room, swiftly followed by the other two boys. Eva shrugged listlessly and went back to work.

"Okay, you've made your point," Remington nodded to Sebastian.

Emerson sniggered from behind, crowing mockingly, "Thanks baby,"

"Yeah, yeah. Like you're any better..."

TBC...

@boxofsparklingmuses @sinmatic @mndsxarts@rottingerotic@liilliiana

[wevegottogetaway]

I love you

First I love yous...do I need to say more? Anyway, please don’t hesitate to reach out for anything, whether that be comments, requests, feedback or just to have a chat! Happy reading xx

It’s been three days of utter pandemonium ripping through your brain in complete disarray. Three days of pent up stress storming through your mind as you ran like a headless chicken to try and find a handle on a situation that frankly, you didn’t give a rat’s ass about.

It all started when your boss had called you in his office, his signature tyrant-resting face on, solid frown drafting his features in a look of severity. Well, this can’t be good, you’d immediately thought once you took a hesitant seat across his desk. You’d hoped for a benign reason behind the sudden meeting, and that the scowl on his face was merely a residual of some other trouble that had absolutely nothing to do with you.

Your prayers had fallen on deaf ears however, as the summoning proved to be a twenty minutes angry diatribe about how one of your most recent client had expressed their wish to withdraw from their deal and de facto, the company. Though it hadn’t been your fault per se, your boss didn’t have any reservations about reminding you of your supposed responsibility to keep your clients sated and on the company’s leash. He’d given you three days to fix it after that. Three days to persuade the client not to pull out of the deal, or you risked some serious downgrading if not redundancy.  

You’d called Harry for support the minute you got home and spent the whole evening brainstorming the craziest ideas to him. He’d listened patiently, holding your hand on the table as you both indulged in the Thai take-out he’d picked up on his way over. That first night, you’d barely slept as you laid in his strong arms, back to his chest. Your reeling mind had still been trying to conjure up any sort of plan that would help you out of this chaos; but for each switch of the glowing red digits on your alarm clock, your hopes had dwindled some.

You hadn’t known then, but Harry couldn’t find rest either as he spooned you against him. You two hadn’t been dating long, several months at best, but already your distress was unbearable to him and every bone in his body ached to do something to help you. This feeling of powerlessness was crawling out of his skin and swimming around like a shark amidst his prevalent thoughts of support, admiration and love. Because, while he’d shown you the first and conveyed the second countless times in the past, the third had yet to tumble out of his lips, despite the confession burning their flesh a bit stronger every day.

What really had had his mind reeling though, was knowing that maybe, just maybe, he had the power to make this situation go away; and for each switch of the glowing red digits on your alarm clock, his hopes grew some.

Your earlier utterance of the client’s name had been ringing through his mind in faint recognition, an itch starting to fester at his fingertips. Dialing a phone number was all it could take. A couple choice words and if he played his cards right, the deal would be back on the table. He’d known interfering was arguably a bad idea, and truthfully he’d always made a point of honor not to use his connections to serve ulterior motives (his or anyone else’s), but how was he supposed to do nothing when the person that caused you trouble was in fact a friend of a friend that might reevaluate their stance if he pitched in with a bit of charm and compelling words? How was he supposed to stay idle, watch you dissolve in an anxious mess, if he wasn’t as powerless as he thought?

So he didn’t. 

He’d originally planned on keeping you in the loop, but you’d been gone by the time his forest green eyes had fluttered back to consciousness the next morning. After a quick shower, a large mug of the coffee you’d left for him before running back to work, and locking your apartment with the spare key you’d given him a couple weeks back, he’d pulled out his phone. Two minutes was all it took for his friend to pass him your client’s number and without hesitation, he’d launched the call and brought his phone to his ear.

It took a bit longer than a couple of minutes for that conversation to take effect, but eventually his words hit their target. After all, his lovely nature could pierce through the most robust walls and stubborn minds. He didn’t even have to put on the charm that much, instead drawing earnest sentiments about your impeccable skills and rambling about how there was no better person to keep their account safe in the business. He’d gnawed at his lips the whole time, desperate to pull through but still scared to fail you somehow. You’d already been let down by the client and your boss, you certainly didn’t need your boyfriend added to the list.

The call had ended with their promise to reassess and consider your undeniable abilities in the equation, yet the next day you were once again convoked to your boss’ office with a snarly bark of your name. Puzzlement washed over you as you speed-walked after him. Why was he still so resentful with you when you’d gotten the client to reenter the contract?

Another twenty minutes of intense scolding provided you with that answer. With a disdainful gaze puncturing your poise, your boss told you that while your job was no longer on the line, you’d been given a firm warning about using your boyfriend as negotiator for the company’s dealings.

How he knew when you yourself weren’t aware of the fact, you didn’t know. In retrospect, your talk with the client had been suspiciously easy for someone who’d made their will to ditch the company crystal clear. You’d merely laid out your arguments, expecting resistance and some pushing, but were only met with a squinted look and cautious acceptance. Now you know your case had already been pleaded once, by the man who was taking more and more space for himself inside the chambers of your heart.

You didn’t quite know how to feel about it; didn’t know if you should be mad or grateful. You were specifically stunned because you knew it was out of character for Harry. Your boyfriend was the most generous being you’d ever met, but humility was even more so a prevailing layer of his beautiful nature. You certainly didn’t expect it, didn’t wish for it to happen again because you were always adamant not to ever use anyone for their assets. Yet there was a tingling, a mixture of discomfort and gratefulness, sloshing in the pit of your stomach. 

This whole thing was a mind-fuckery of emotions you were too tired to process.

What you did feel though, was the pure frustration at your boss’ hypocrisy. You both knew he didn’t really care how you’d gotten the deal back, just that you did, but his intolerable disposition wouldn’t allow him to applaud your efforts and move on.

Wanting to put this all mess behind you, you bit back the retorts that you craved to force down his throat, simply nodded through his chastising charade, and leaped to your feet as soon as the dismissing words left his stupid trap.

Now that you’re making your way inside your home, your nose is hit by a waft of delicious aromas traveling from the kitchen. Your mind is still fuzzy with every trouble and startling revelation that transpired in the past three days, but as your eyes settle on your apron-clad boyfriend, you take a moment to appreciate the sight of his soft figure stirring the content of what must be a pan on the gas. His back is facing you, but you can hear the gentle humming under his breath, as he hasn’t registered your arrival yet.

After another minute of whistling, he finally twists around and his eyes almost pop out of their socket when they find your timid stance a couple feet away. "Jesus, pet, didn’t know you were home yet," he chuckles softly before taking in your somewhat moony features. Your expression is hard to pinpoint, your delicate traits blank of any emotions yet your eyes have the same sparkle that greets him every morning and every night when he pulls you for a deep kiss in his warm embrace. "Everythin’ okay, love?"

The query snaps you out of your semblance of trance, your head looking down to the floor to gather your wits before you level your gaze back to his. "Yeah it is. Umm, my boss called me in again today," your bite your lip, not knowing how to navigate the conversation. In all honesty, you just want to be done with the whole thing, would rather spend an evening full of cuddles and potentially mind-blowing sex, but you know this ought to be acknowledged.

"Oh," his brows pull together with the same confusion you’d experienced when your boss ushered you to his office. "Did he thank you for the big save?"

"Not exactly," you clear your throat bracing yourself and Harry’s face tenses at the realization about where this is going. "My job is safe and I’m still working on the account," hie loosens up in relief, but your next words have him stiffen right back up in alarm. "But I got a warning for a certain someone’s involvement in the company’s operations. Apparently, my boyfriend called the client on my behalf and forgot to clue me in…"

Your voice is calm and doesn’t carry any reproachful tone, but Harry’s pulse is suddenly speeding with dread regardless. The fact that he could have lost you your jobs is the only thing registering in his frenzied mind, as he sets the dish towel from his shoulder down on the counter and steps closer to you. His eyes are bouncing off yours in a frantic back and forth, as he gulps his remorse down. Before you can appease him with reassuring words, and show your lack of anger, he launches in an apologetic rant, enclosing both your hands between his palms.

"M’so sorry, love. I didn’t mean to put you in a bad position. Fuck I just- I kept thinkin’ I could help since your client was a friend of a friend. And, the more I thought about it, the more I kept thinking 'I can’t do nothin’. Cause I hate seein’ you in pain an’ I really want to be here fo’ you and I know this was probably the wrong way to go about it, but damn y/n, I couldn’t stand doin’ nothing, m’sorry-"

"I love you."

The words come fast but distinct, airy but firm, not an ounce of doubt laced through their utterance. An eerie silence permeate the small space surrounding them, as Harry tries to find his own words back. It took three of them to steal all of his, but in his defense they were the ones he’d been dying to hear and to deliver himself. His eyes are wide, blinking in total surprise. He’d expected irritation, disappointment perhaps, maybe even anger, but definitely not the sweetest words he’s been keeping at the forefront of his mind. "I- you do?"

You still have that wondrous look on your face, but this time a bright smile enlivens your features, "I really do." You take your hands out of his grip to hold onto his wrists and pull him closer to you. You have to look up since he towers over you but you’ve always liked that about your relationship; the way he always seems to dwarf you in his embraces, whether because of his height or his bear-paw hands. "I mean, don’t that again," you let out a soft laugh, "but I know why you did it, and I love you for it." 

Harry smiles rivals your own now, as your hands smooth up his arms to clasp at the nape of his neck, "plus, my boss is a jerk anyway so, who cares?" You pull him in a loving kiss then and his arms wrap themselves around your shoulders in a tight lock. His lips are as soft as ever between your own, and you detect the faintest taste of pepper and other exotic herbs lingering on their edge, from his cooking endeavors. He’s always been one to have a taste or two while he’s working, whether that be in the kitchen or other rooms…and regardless, you always like it when you get your share from his supple lips.

He feels slightly distracted against your mouth though, his technique not as ravishing as it usually is. and before you can wonder why, he’s pulling an inch away from your swollen lips, hurriedly whispering your tender confession back to you as though the words couldn’t be out of his mouth and into your heart fast enough, "I love you too, pet. So much." His hands are cajoling your face, thumbs drawing soothing circles across your cheeks, and his beaming smile is melting your heart in a goo of pleasure after all the strain it suffered in the past couple of days.

"Fuck, c’mere, don’t ever wanna stop kissing you," Harry mutters against your lips before diving in for a real mind-bending, soul-shaking, tantalizing kiss this time. Just like that, all your worries and sorrow evaporate into thin air, only to be replaced by an intoxicating pink loving brume. You two definitely spend the most perfect evening with lots of cuddles and endless mind-blowing lovemaking. Screw everything else.

➪ Masterlist

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

Sweet Pandemonium - Gally (The Maze Runner) Part 10 of 16

Wow, I updated. What a shockerrrrr

~~~~~~~~~~

You bounced on the heels of your feet, anxious and excited, waiting behind the front door of your shared apartment with Teresa.

She somehow convinced Ava Paige to let you roam around the city for a few hours, saying that it would be helpful for you. You had no idea if that would be true, but you were grateful anyway. Although, you were going to be guarded the entire time. 

You understood why, but it didn’t make it any less annoying. 

“You ready?” Teresa smiled at you.

You nodded. “Yeah, ready to leave this place for once.”

“Just be careful, okay? Listen to the guard, and don’t try and escape. I won’t be able to do anything for you if you misbehave.”

You rolled your eyes. “Right...”

There was a loud knock on the front door, opening it to reveal your guard for the afternoon, dressed in casual attire so he wouldn’t draw too much attention to himself.

“Love you...”

You looked back at Teresa, slightly scowling. You tried not to scoff as you exited the apartment.

As soon as you left the building, you went wide eyed at how different the Last City looked from the ground. You had only seen it from that window, but now you were actually experiencing it for yourself.

Mostly everybody walking around were wearing masks, probably paranoid about getting the Flare. But you frowned when you saw how many children were walking with their parents, and infants in strollers.

You couldn’t help but almost tear up at the thought of all those kids dying from the Flare. You thought of your baby sister, how you would’ve done anything to save her and your parents if you had the chance.

But you forced yourself to think back to Minho, to all the kids that W.C.K.D. were torturing. You could never condone what they did, what they’re still doing. 

From the corner of your eye, you saw something that almost made your heart skip a beat. But you just decided it was your imagination. It had to be, right?

You looked to your left, and you realized it couldn’t be your mind playing tricks on you.

Thomas?

You went wide eyed when you saw him, in the middle of the street, no less. He gave you a smile, his eyes telling you to follow him. But with the soldier that was assigned to guard you, you knew it wouldn’t be so easy.

You wished you could tell him you needed to come up with a plan first.

It took so much convincing and begging from Teresa just for you to leave your cell. Trying to convince Ava to allow you to walk around the city, even for your mental health, was damn near impossible.

So how the hell were you going to ditch your guard?

You quickly surveyed the area, seeing different types of shops, company buildings, and restaurants of that sort.

Then suddenly, the idea hit you. You could almost feel the metaphorical lightbulb going off above your head. You turned back to look at your guard. “I literally have to take the biggest shit right now.”

You guard cringed in disgust. “Can’t you wait?”

“Do you want me to shit my pants, dude? The tower is so far away, I won’t be able to make it. Please.” You begged, trying to pull the best puppy dog eyes you never thought you’d ever do in your life.

The guard sighed. “Alright, fine.” He led you into some clothing store, going to the very back where the bathrooms were. “Try to hurry.”

You quickly entered the bathroom, grinning to yourself as you immediately noticed the window at the back of the room. It wasn’t too small. Thankfully, you weren’t too large. It would be a squeeze, but you’d make do.

You locked the door, pushing the trashcan in front just in case. Hopping up on the toilet seat as quietly as possible, reaching up to open the window. You jumped, thrusting yourself into the opening, trying not to groan in pain as the edge put pressure on your stomach.

You looked down to see the window was in the middle of an alleyway, away from the busy street. Huh, how lucky...

You fell very ungracefully out of the window, landing on the concrete with a thud, the impact knocking the breath out of your lungs.

“That definitely could’ve been executed better.”

You jumped at the voice, hopping to your feet, but slowly relaxing when you saw Thomas smiling softly at you. And just like that, all the pain you endured from Teresa, all the hopelessness you felt while trapped in that tower, it all seemed to fade away, just from that one smile.

You ran to him, quickly enthralling him in a tight hug. You heard Thomas chuckle breathlessly from the force of your embrace, but he held you back just as tightly.

Memories of laughing together played over and over again in your mind as you held onto him. You already cared for Thomas, but having the memories back...you couldn’t explain it. He felt more and more like a true brother as the seconds passed.

Reuniting with him just felt like a breath of the cleanest air in the world, almost like how it felt after it rained in the Glade.

“Are you okay?” Thomas asked once you pulled away.

“I am now.” You tried to smile, but it only came out forced.

Thomas frowned when he looked you over. Your eyes were dull, almost sunken in, like you hadn’t slept in years. You were well fed, but you still looked malnourished due to how pale you looked.

“What happened to you?” His voice was quiet, almost like he was afraid to ask.

“It’s a long story...a story we don’t have time for, I’m afraid. My guard is waiting. So, whatever you have to say, make it quick.”

Thomas smirked, making you confused. “You underestimate me, Y/N. You don’t have to worry, I’ve taken care of it.”

You cringed. “Should I even ask?”

“Come on.” Thomas grabbed your hand, leading you out of the alleyway and to a van. You stopped, looking to him with hesitance. “It’s okay.” He smiled reassuringly.

You sighed. “I’m trusting you, Thomas.”

You hopped into the back of the van with Thomas, and it quickly took off. During the whole ride, he had a content look on his face. It couldn’t help but make you feel uneasy. Where were you even going?

The van soon came to a halt, and Thomas turned to you. “We have to walk from here. For our safety and yours, you’ll have to be blindfolded until we get there.”

You shook your head. “Wait, no, Thomas-”

“I’ll be with you the entire time, okay? You’re gonna be safe, I promise. You said you trusted me, right?” You nodded reluctantly, and with that, Thomas gently put a cloth bag over your head, completely obscuring your vision.

You both exited the van, Thomas holding your hand as he led you through wherever you were. You were almost sure you were cutting off his blood circulation with how hard you were squeezing his hand, but he kept telling you that you were okay.

“Okay, we’re here.” Thomas removed the bag and you could finally see.

You looked around to see that you were in some sort of abandoned church. Why here?

“Y/N...”

You froze, heart pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears...you knew that voice, that voice was in your dreams every single night. But, no, it couldn’t be possible...he was dead.

You slowly looked up to see who the voice belonged to. You felt a sudden chill go down your spine as you couldn’t believe your eyes. Was this a dream? A nightmare? No, it couldn’t be real. You were still at W.C.K.D. You must be. They must be trying to trick you into believing that you escaped.

But still, knowing that it wasn’t real didn’t stop you from shedding tears. “This is so sick...even for them.” You cried.

Thomas took a step forward, but you immediately recoiled. “Y/N, what’re you talking about?”

You quickly shut your eyes tightly, placing your hands to your ears to try and block out the booming thuds in your head. “This isn’t real. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.” You kept telling yourself. “Please, stop this. Wake up...”

“Y/N, stop. You’re okay. You’re not dreaming.” Thomas tried to console you.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe, like a whole Griever was sitting on your chest, putting intense pressure on your lungs. You couldn’t control the sobs that rattled in your chest, making you tremble.

“One, two, seven, five, three...three, five, seven, two, one...”

You soon felt a pair of arms wrap around you. Thomas tried to calm you down, but it wasn’t working. You heard him order everyone out of the room.

This is such an elaborate simulation...

“Y/N...” Thomas whispered. “You’re okay. You’re okay, you’re not at W.C.K.D. This is real. I’m real. Me, Thomas.”

You looked up at Thomas, almost expecting him to turn into some horrid monster from the twisted imaginations of the people that experimented on you. But he didn’t. He just stared at you with the utmost concern in his golden brown eyes. You were so afraid to speak, you wanted this to be real so bad.

“You’re real?” Your voice broke.

Thomas nodded, smiling through the pain of seeing you in such a state. “Yes. Yes, I’m real.”

You exhaled a shaky breath, keeping your hold on Thomas. “Wait...but that means...”

Gally was alive?

After a few more minutes of trying to pull yourself together again, Thomas thought it was finally safe to bring everyone back in one by one. First, Newt entered the room.

“Newt.” You walked to him, quickly engulfing him in a hug.

“You’ve looked better, love.” He joked, well, it sounded like a joke to you, but he was really concerned.

“So have you.” You replied. “You need a haircut.” You tried to tease, but it didn’t make him smile.

Frypan couldn’t wait that much longer and entered the room and ran to you, giving you a huge bear hug that startled you, but you didn’t expect anything less when it came to your friend.

Then, Brenda and Jorge came out. “You’re still alive?” You asked her, shocked that she hasn’t turned into a Crank by now.

“Disappointed?” She smirked, pushing you softly before wrapping her arms around you while Jorge gave you a friendly smile.

And last but not least.

He walked in slowly, so slowly that it almost looked like slow motion. He didn’t want to scare you, certainly didn’t want to give you another panic attack. He wasn’t expecting that reaction. But he guessed it was reasonable, considering that seeing a person you thought was dead was suddenly not dead, but very much alive.

You felt more tears brimming your eyes again. The feelings of being in a simulation coming back, but this was real. He was real, and he was here. He was alive somehow.

“Gally?” You whimpered pitifully.

“Hey, Y/N...” Gally said, tears of his own brimming his eyes.

“You’re alive...”

Gally wanted to run to you, hug you and never let you go. But he knew how sensitive you were right now. So, he stayed where he was. “Yeah...I am.” He chuckled softly.

Almost like something clicked in your brain, you finally one hundred percent believed that this was all real. You didn’t wait one more second, you went to him. You ran to Gally and threw yourself on to him, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. “You’re really here...” You cried, squeezing even more tightly than you already were.

Gally wrapped his arms around your waist, placing his face to your neck to breathe you in, making sure you were really there with him as he almost didn’t believe it himself.

The both of you stayed that way, almost four whole minutes of keeping in each other’s embrace. The only reason you pulled away was to look at him. He had a buzzcut, and he felt even stronger than he was in the Glade. He had a couple tears rolling down his face as he looked at you.

“How?” You stuttered. “How are you alive?”

Gally smiled. “Long story.”

His voice. You missed hearing his voice so much. You missed everything about him. His eyes, they were just as blue as the day you left him. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, Gally. Not a day went by that I didn’t think of you.” You declared, the tears not even slowing down.

Gally reached up and caressed your face, and you leaned into his gentle touch. “I never stopped thinking about you. The thought that I might see you again was the only reason I could wake up in the morning.”

Gally pulled you back into his chest, but from the corner of his eye, he saw Thomas starting to walk over to the two of you. One glare from Gally was all it took for him to back off. He was not going to let that Greenie ruin this moment.

“I never thought I’d see you again...” You hiccupped.

“I’m here...I’m here.” Gally cooed. “And I’m never leaving you again.”

~~~~~~~~~~

 bruh finalllyyyy 😭 

[the-melting-world]

The Empress | Side A: “Keep Your Head Up”

Art by @markmefistov

~ In which a humble gardener unlocks many powerful Doors at once...

The Trio Appearances: Kipling | Khleo | Ozy

Arcana LI appearances: Asra | Nadia | Muriel 

Track Origins: “Keep Your Head Up” by Ben Howard

Not sure if this is the right track? The full album can be found here: The Empress

cw: none

~ 1.9k words

It’s been a few days since Kipling returned from the realm of The Empress. Now that she can call upon her third eye whenever she wants, practicing grey magic comes a lot smoother to her. Ozy spends this time in the Palace Gardens showing Kipling how to use her tethers, as well as other features that exist between herself and her familiar…

“Why have I never heard of satellites before?” Kipling asked while she adjusted the switches on her gauntlets.

Ozy stood not far off from her, doing the same. “To be honest, I didn’t learn about satellites until after I came to the library. It’s just another one of those pieces of knowledge that was hidden from us. But it would explain why there were so many lemurs living around the temple.”

Kip nodded. “And why so many of our cousins kept them as pets or familiars.”

Ozy looked over at Kipling and exhaled happily. “There’s still so much about the Doors that we have to uncover. And now I don’t have to do it alone. I’m so happy you’re here with me, coz.”

Before Ozy could make the first move, Kip stepped up and hugged him.

“I’m happy I’m here too. I’m excited.”

“You should be!” Then Ozy picked her up and swung her around until her legs flared out. “Opening Doors is fun.”

Kipling shrieked a little, but held on through Ozy’s spinning. When her feet were firmly planted to the earth, Ozy steadied her by the shoulders and said, “Okay. Let’s take care of these Rooms.”

He quickly summoned the motherboard and started activating the glyphs to the Doors he had previously marked. Meanwhile, Kipling called on Taro and she opened up a small Door of her own for the lemur to pass through.

“What are we doing again?” Kip asked once Taro came out on the other side of the Door as a glowing satellite.

Patiently, Ozy said, “I’m locating the special Doors that I’ve marked in the past. Once I reveal them, you and Taro are going to use your tethers to turn the Doors until they’re all facing each other. I’ll open them and then you’ll lock off the exits.”

It sounded simple enough. 

Ozy did not stay by Kipling’s side for very long. Kip watched in awe as he relied on his gauntlets to climb and swing his way up through the framework. For Ozy, it was merely a playground. He cartwheeled and somersaulted in and out of Doors. Taro whistled as she followed him. The grey mage showed her where to tie Kip’s tethers before backflipping off the Doors and landing on the precarious surfaces. 

As Kip felt the Doors hum and their glyphs imprinted on her heart, she wondered if she would ever be able to traverse the framework the way Ozy did.

“Okay. Now!” Ozy called as he hung upside-down from one of the many thousands of rungs.

Kipling used all ten fingers to curl and drag the Doors so that they were facing each other. What she didn’t expect was the way they would tug on her too.

“Ozy!” Kip gasped as her feet left the ground and she came soaring towards him. He didn’t, however, panic at all. Ozy smiled as he caught Kip by the waist and used his own body weight to haul them both around the bar like they were a pair of trapeze artists. 

“Don’t let go of your tethers. Pull!”

Even though her stomach was doing backflips, Kip trusted Ozy knew what he was doing. She reinforced the bindings around her wrists and tugged with all her might.

The Doors groaned in protest. 

“Good. Now hold it there.” Ozy maneuvered the two of them onto a solid surface and let go of Kip temporarily. She balanced on a narrow beam in the framework while he guided his arms in the majestic rotations required to open all the Doors.

Kip gasped at the feeling of so many glyphs whispering with energy at once. 

“That’s wide enough, Ozy,” she said without thinking. She could feel what lay behind those Doors. If Ozy opened them too far, it would unleash pandemonium. The grey mage heeded Kipling without argument. He passed her the reins, giving her control over locking them.

There were eight Doors in all that fed into a single Room.

Kip held steady to her tethers while the marked Rooms emptied themselves into the new, long chamber. Kipling felt the glyphs shudder as so many entities passed over them. Whatever was crossing those thresholds felt wild and weirdly shaped.

“What are those things, coz?” Kip whispered.

A muscle twitched in Ozy’s jaw. “Monsters.”

Kip shot him a look as she started to close off the Doors.

He added, “But thanks to you, they’re all in one place now.” He placed his hand on Kip’s shoulder. “We should head back to the conservatory. Nadia made me promise not to be late for lunch.”

Ozy and Kipling joined Nadia and Asra in the Palace Conservatory. Taro ran up to greet Faust, Chandra, and Abaco while their humans made themselves comfortable on the breezy furniture. 

“Missed you.” Kip whispered to Asra once she got close enough. He slipped one arm around her waist and the other over her shoulders while he pressed a happy kiss to her temple.

“I might have strolled past the garden a few times to see what you were up to.”

Kip turned to face him, unable to fight back the blush rushing up her neck. “Yeah? Did you see the part where I almost got sucked into a Room full of boogeymen?”

Asra’s smile went from affectionate to something more vulpine as he stole a kiss. “I did see that. You were so cool about it.”

“Sure I was.” Kip let him have one more kiss before pulling back. She didn’t want to be rude like last time, getting all caught up in Asra while Ozy and Nadia were–

Kip and Asra mirrored each other’s looks of incredulity as soon as they registered what they were seeing across from them. Compared to Kip and Asra, Ozy and Nadia’s position was much more relaxed against the lounge. Ozy confidently dragged Nadia’s leg over his own as he brought her to rest against him.

Kip blinked hard. Was that really Ozy who was kissing the Countess as if he knew exactly what he was doing?

When Ozy and Nadia finally parted and he registered the awestruck look on Kip’s face, he blushed, but laughed good-naturedly. “Oh come on, coz. Now you know what it’s like to be me — always having to watch your friends get very cozy with each other.”

Asra chuckled and rubbed Kipling’s back while she still tried to wrap her mind around what she had just witnessed. Nadia looked as serene and composed as ever as she helped Ozy and herself assume an upright position.

“Oz, speaking of friends, isn’t there something you need to tell Kip?”

Ozy shot Nadia a grateful smile before announcing, “Right. Great news, Kip. I know where Khleo is!”

Kip blinked a few times. “Sorry. What?” 

Ozy happily rambled, “Not only is Khleo really strong, but she’s not afraid of anything, Kip!”

Kipling shook her head. “No. Back up, Ozy. Where is Khleo?”

Both Nadia and Asra held their breaths, closely watching Kip’s reaction as Ozy revealed the news. The grey mage gave a casual shrug and said, “Center City. She’s a bartender. And actually a fairly impressive operations manager and event planner, but I don’t think she knows that yet.”

Kip’s syrupy brown eyes widened as her fingers came up to brush the cowrie shell necklace that Ozy had long since returned to her.

“Khleo is here? In Vesuvia?”

*

*

*

The doors of the Chandrian Tavern Hall would be opening for happy hour soon.

“Does anyone know where Khlee is?”

Basil knew the answer to Samira’s question, but he didn’t comment on it. 

Gabe shrugged indifferently. “Who knows? They’ll show up when it’s time. They always do.”

The barhands finished their easy dinner of sourdough bread and sausage in silence. Basil offered to clear everyone’s plates. On his way to the kitchen, he set the dishes aside and took a detour towards the entrance to the basement. 

On the way, he came upon a low shelf curving out from the wall where the staff kept things like their keys, wallets, and sometimes food to take home at the end of their shifts. 

At the moment, there was something – no, someone – squatting in the tight corner where the shelf met the wall and there was barely any light.

Despite the strength of Khleo’s arms, the barhand looked quite small, folded up on themself like this, hugging their knees to their chin.

Basil did the best he could to get close enough in order to crouch behind Khleo. It was only at this proximity could he read the slight trembling between her shoulder blades. He waited for her to acknowledge him while he counted the uneven spirals and swirls in her wealth of dusty brown curls. 

“I hate him, Baz.” Khleo sniffed. “I hate him so much.”

Basil’s gaze moved on to the reddish brown freckles peppering the skin on her arms where her sleeves were rolled up.

“I know…. He’s a fucking bully.” Basil pressed a bread roll against her leg. “Eat something, Khlee.” 

Basil knew that pep talks didn’t really do much for Khleo in moments like these, so he just stayed there, eventually bringing his hand to her spine and rubbing it in tight circles while she got everything out of her system. Then she ate the bread in silence.

When her shoulders finally stilled, Basil asked, “You ready?”

Khleo sniffed one last time, dragging the back of her hand under her nose.

“. . . Yeah.”

Her voice had settled back into that familiar raspy tenor. Basil backed up to give Khleo some space as they rose to their feet. They were shorter than Basil by a handful of inches. But even with their head bowed while they wiped their eyes, they still carried so much presence.

Khleo rolled their shoulders and cleared their throat a few times. When they turned around, their eyes were still a little red, but only Basil and maybe a few of the other barhands would be able to tell. The patrons, however, would be too mystified by the army of freckles spanning the bridge of Khlee’s nose, their dark, expressive brows, full lips, and not to mention, the fine cuts of muscle that made up their arms.  

“Thanks, Baz,” Khleo said in passing as she stepped around him on a pair of surprisingly nimble feet. 

As Khlee took her place behind the bar, she was met with smiles and raucous greetings from the regulars. Several had plans to stay after the tavern closed for the night. This was when Khleo’s fight club meetings began. She gave them knowing winks and taunted some of the more cocky fighters.

Her smile only faltered when she came in view of the tavern owner, who was perched right by the set of hooks that held up all the aprons. He met her gaze unflinchingly, eyeing her like he did most of his employees – as if they were worthless until proven otherwise.

< Get what you need, cub. >

The sound of Khleo’s familiar reminding them what to focus on kept them from sliding back into those feelings of helplessness from earlier. After Khleo got their small apron and tied it about their waist, they joined the other barhands, who were already taking orders. 

Khleo plastered another friendly smile to their face as they leaned over the bar and folded their arms in a way that could easily distract.

“Hey. Welcome to the Chandrian,” Khleo said, flexing a bit to draw the patron’s attention away from her eyes. With one hand, she slid a stained menu towards them. With the other, she flipped an empty glass into the air.

“What can I get started for you?”

[theinkquiry]

old  masterlist (marvel, star wars, HP)

a collection of my old writing for the Star Wars, Marvel, and Harry Potter fandoms. contains mostly reader inserts.

Marvel

Multiship/No Ship

Avengers Halloween Headcanons

Time Will Tell

Christmas at the Tower

Bucky Barnes

Popular Masterlist **COMPLETED**

New Rules

The Debate

Leap of Faith

What He Left Behind

Peter Parker

Spooky Scary

Not Quite Avengers

Intergalactic Teenage Space Romance | Sequel

Smol Spider-man Drabble 1

Steve Rogers

Wishes for Cap

Thor

Two Asgardians Ram Into a Spaceship

Dr. Strange

I Need A Hero

Drabbles

“Please don’t walk out of that door.” (Tony X Reader)

“Don’t lie to me.“ and “It’s not that easy.“ and “I fell in love with you, not them.”(Peter Parker X Reader)

“You’ve been drinking tonight, haven’t you?“ and “Excuse me?” (Tony X Reader)

“Step away from the cookies.” (Bucky X Reader)

“If I hear one more Mariah Carey song I will riot.“ and “My house, my rules. The Christmas music stays on.” (Steve X Reader)

“Oi! That’s my hot chocolate!“ and "I don’t care about tradition, you try and get me to kiss you under the mistletoe and I will punch you.” (Steve X Reader)

“I don’t care what you say, The Nightmare Before Christmas works for Christmas and Halloween!” (Peter Parker X Reader)

Marvel as Vines

"Can I Please Get a Waffle?” (Peter-centric, Implied Steve X Tony)

Star Wars

Poe Dameron

Graceless (Royalty!AU)

Situational Irony

Rey

Desert Calling

Harry Potter

Harry Potter

Pick On Me

The Case With Class

First Move

Realism

In-scent-ive

Ultimatum

Who I Really Am

Where’s Harry?

Forget Yourself

Draco Malfoy

Angles Series: A New Angle | The Assumed Angle | A Hidden Angle

Backup Series: Backup | Up Front

Puppies!

Do Witches Dream of Magic Sheep?

Impressed?

When Half the School is Failing

Yes Means No

A Very Potter-Weasley-Malfoy Christmas

Kindness and Promises

Cheers to Nightmares

Spectaculars

Blinded By Love

Friends in the Now

Future Coincidences

Dozing Days

Roses and Bluebells

A Lovely Swim

A Deal Made

Ah, Young Love!

Light and Dark Inside

Silence Is All It Takes

Status Quo

Enlightenment

Once Before

What Goes Around (Draco X Hermione)

Let It Out

These Games

His Better Judgement

Lions VS Snakes

Remember Me

Smile!

What He Doesn’t Know Pt 2

Funny Story

Mean to You

Party Tricks

Snowed In

Make Like A Muggle

Just Kiss Her

Fred Weasley

At Dawn

If I Like It Then I’ll Put a Ring on It

Like At First Sight

Thinking Aloud

Our Dreams

In A Flash

Summers in Sparklers

Good Out of Bad

Outside Aid

Double Victory

Galas and Gallant Boys

The Crack of Thunder

Bursts

No Sick Days

Your Business Man

Eye of the Hurricane

George Weasley

The Good Snow Days

Stampedes and Stars

Shouting From Stages

Forgetting Love

We Have Potions

Short and Sour

That Much, I Can Say

Apple of the Eye

Twists

Holidays at Home

Simplicity of Jokes

Present Pandemonium

Missing

Interesting People

Mistletoe Managed

Meddling

Fred and George

A Little Smile

Swept On Your Feet

Big, Stupid, Things

Ron Weasley

…Come Again?

I’m Not the Cute One

Completely Mad

Thing of the Past

The Winner’s Prize

None Shall Fail on Christmas

Waltzing Wizards

Eek! A Spider!

Checkmate

Blaise Zabini

To Ask or Not to Ask Isn’t the Question

Oliver Wood

False Wrongs Make a Right

From Bad to Better

Not In Love

Trip Down Lovers’ Lane

Misconceptions

Keeping Time

So We Meet Again

Oh Captain My Co-Captain

Nerds

Being in love with a Slytherin (Headcanon)

“I won’t let you.”

Neville Longbottom

Flustered Feelings

Gossip Material

From Afar

Thinking the Impossible

Just the Two

Under Lock & Key

To Be Here With You

Dean Thomas

Details

Cedric Diggory

Baby, It’s Really Cold Outside

Lee Jordan

Foiled

Sirius Black

Insulted

Someday

Sneak Attack

Intentionally

Wasted

Out of Fashion

Dinner and a Wedding (Featuring Jily)

Right At Home

Here, Always

It’s Just a Prank

Remus Lupin

Don’t Help

The Wolf

Healing Wounds

The Dare

When the Moon Rises

Tea Time

The Best Prank (Halloween Special)

Halloween Pranks with Remus (Headcanon)

Holding On

James Potter

In Between Fire

Shake It

Cocoa Fixes Everything

Regulus Black

Meet Me in the Moonlight

Ginny Weasley

Trapped Under

Hermione Granger

Alone Together

Platonic

A Day in the Life

All The Single Ladies

Home at Last

Assistance

Each Summer

Name Calling