#slowly descends into insanity noises

[moonbreezes]

anyway, now I am in urgent need of post chot short stories

[evieelyzabethh]

Imagine streamer Jayce and reader, and Viktor doing a stream where Jayce and reader read fanfics of themselves before rating them on accuracy, while Viktor is just cringing in the background and making sarcastic comments. He dies at the [insert reader’s name] x viktor fics

Jayce definitely brings up the idea. His twitch chat is already insanely horny and he doesn't do much to monitor it. The second he catches wind that there are fanfics out there about him, he is creating a tumblr account and politely asking forcing you two to join him. Viktor, who isn't even featured on the channel much grossly underestimates the number of fics out there and is appalled by his mischaracterization and the fact that he has the most about him.

Jayce would give the internet ungodly amounts of clips to make edits from, you would try and play ball with the horniness before inevitably breaking character, and Viktor slowly descends into madness the more you roleplay what you're reading. He is holding the phone in his left hand, the other wrapped around your throat as his face contorts in confusion before shouting "My leg is where?!" He accuses the author of being a delusional virgin before moving on to the next one. Like he genuinely is trying to picture the scenarios in his head but the position switching becomes too much he loses track and gets confused. You have only made it through a reenactment a handful of times, and each time he jokingly asks, "Was it as good for you as it was for me?"

Viktor needs to be strapped down to get through x reader fics. He wants to leave! He is not having it at all. It doesn't annoy him that they ignore your existence, he knows it's a wish fulfillment kinda thing, it's more so that the mischaracterization is even worse. The whole time he's like "I would not say that!" "Can I sue for defamation; I am nothing like this!" Best case scenario, he throws on his reading glasses and starts criticizing the grammar and spelling. If it becomes a regular series, he has a button that makes noises from every time someone messes up there, they're, and their.

[justblades]

⌕ BUSINESS PARTNERS WITH BENEFITS, 18+

⟢ CHARACTER : sampo koski x afab! reader WC : 1.3k

⟢ WARNINGS : MDNI. public teasing, oral (male receiving), throat f, finger f.

everyone gets to witness sampo's absurdity. from his ludicrous backhanded methods whether to be of aid or to fool— that's how they perceive sampo koski. little do they know, among the many 'partnerships' he formed to which he singlehandedly decides, he actually has a business partner, a mutual connection. almost anyone who comes across him etch on their minds he's either to be trusted or disregarded. the two sides tiptoeing upon the boundaries every single time.

it's not just that. he oftentimes gets sidetracked whenever the dyad is commencing a dangerous operation. be it gathering intel from the enemies hideout, he'd still have the time to gawk over your body like he was to descend into insanity if he wasn't given a chance to douse the flames of his lustful tendencies.

and that's how you ended up in this bizarre situation. sampo laps your sprawled out mounds, gloved hands fiddling with your hardened nipples. you bite your lip in an attempt to stifle the moans threatening to slip out, as comical sampo appears from his choice of words and personality— he still manages to pleasure you in all kinds of ways, all for the sake of quenching his thirst for intimacies.

your breath hitches, and as bad as it can get, a soldier whips his head to the source of the weak noises, following his intuition. you knew full well being in cramped up spaces with sampo can be a handful to manage, among the many times you reminded him to focus on your jobs, he shrugs it off and proudly proclaims he'll still get it done in spite of you doing it in the middle of an operation.

and he always does. sampo may be deceving at times but his words never fall on his back. sampo's lush green eyes fixate on your expressions, finding enjoyment at how your eyes squint from the jolts of pleasure he sends into your system. he inches forward your face, tip of your noses just a hair's breadth away. "i can't get enough of this."

your eyebrows furrow in exchange, "i thought it'd be just this?" you ask, irritation seethes through your teeth. "when have we ever been caught whenever we do it? come on, we've been partners for years already. is sampo koski really that much of a doubtful figure?" his usual cocky, teasing tone laces his words, beaming you a sheepish smile right after.

in a sense, he's right. and that's exactly how you fall prey on his words. lastly, it's not bad, it is always a great past time when the intel hasn't been leaked yet to the other side. that was exactly it - you two have been business partners with benefits since long ago, making it a hobby to do the deed regardless of time and place, all for the sake of fun, cooperation, and lastly, money.

you slowly rid yourself of clothes, being careful not to draw much attention. meanwhile the bi-haired male basks in his momentary victory, reveling in the moment he won over your rationality.

sampo glides his gloved hand to your inner thighs, a sinister smirk plastered on his lips— with no hesitation lingering in his mind, he rubs viscules on your slit with his thumb finger swiftly, finding your region at such a fast rate, taking into account that he can't see nothing but pitch black darkness and the way you look underneath him.

he has your body memorized as if it was the back of his hand, one of the many things he's skilled at, although it's uncertain whether he should be proud of that. the corners of his lips tug further upwards as soon as he feels the liquids come in contact with his skin, dampening his onyx gloves.

with a rapid thrust, he pumps his digits in and out of your hole. you melt into pleasures, mind starting to be clouded with nothing but sampo's shit eating grins. perhaps you were more sensitive to his touches today since the teasing was too prolonged, and of course, it was intentional, all planned out by the master in control.

his bashful smile never ceases, a rapid rush of determination gushes through his veins. "if only you weren't appealing and so good at this, i would've gone for your neck a long time ago." fortunately, your words were muddled with the soldiers' fancy stories that they were unable to hear your threats.

sampo, as if it was engraved in his soul, replies with the same attitude as usual. "why thank you for the compliment." you scoff, but the huff of breath you heaved immediately got followed by a soft mewl, the navy haired curls his fingers inside your walls as he could feel you squeezing him tight.

"ahh, i wish i were inside you right now." he muses and proceeds to rest his head on the soft beds of your chest. a crease forms between your brows for the nth time, not until he had something up his sleeve once again. it only made sense when a surprising warm feeling slicks on your skin, in stark contrast to the chilling temperature deep inside this spacious building.

a realization dawns on your perturbed mind, maybe it would be easier if you part your lips open and let the breathing noises erupt, rather than trying to hold them back which could lead to your cover being blown. and finally, "dismissed." the soldiers say and leave the room in unison, and you could feel the heavy weight on your chest instantly dissipate into the air.

the two of you scoot out of the small cabinet and immediately locked the metal doors. "i've been in the receiving end for way too long." your eyes spark with hopes of revenge for sampo teasing you like that to which he promptly notices. "no, i—" you push him on the tabletop and hold him down with a hand on his sculpted pecs. as your other free hand travel down to his bulge, you were caught in surprise once you felt a particular spot wet.

you've known him for too long, the same goes for his clothing. if it got this damp despite the thick pants he's wearing, it is no doubt: he came from teasing you alone. you click your tongue in annoyance but proceed to kneel in front of him anyway, still set out on making him whimper and plead for mercy.

if anything, it's better he already came, this way, you could make use of his heightened sensitivity to your advantage. his cock grows hard again and you coil your hands around its body. it throbs from the slightest, feather touches - and you did not dawdle any further. enveloping the margins of your lips from the head of his dick, you try your best to provide more space.

skillfully brushing your sultry tongue from his cock's small folds, sampo throws his head back in pleasure. "h-hey, i'm still sensitive, i just came—" you gobble all his length, proceeding to bob your head up and down, building momentum while finding the right timing to quicken the pace as well.

he whimpers as he feels the crown of his dick hit the farthest back of your throat, "e-eno—" you fiddle with his ballsacks as well, gripping on them tightly, playing around to see what kind of play sampo would like today. with no forewarnings, strings of milky white liquids sprawl into your mouth, a hint of sourness and sweetness breaks through your tastebuds.

as a perfect business partner you were, you gulp all of it down, your mouth perfectly clean of any evidences from sampo's satisfaction. you watch on sampo's lifeless body, appearing like the soul was sucked out of him. fatigue gnaws at his bones meanwhile you chortle - one that was of a mocking tone. "a well deserved defeat."

my masterlist !

[plutowrites]

Of Magic

note: whew dusted off the ole keyboard for this one. if i'm rusty, you gotta allow it. i love this one sm. because i love nanami kento. that is all.

pairings: dad!nanami x (fem) reader

contains: fluff. nanami being the best duh wbk. modern au.

You hear a faint scraping noise from the kitchen as you quietly enter your home, holding your breath while gently closing the door behind you. It's 9:53 PM, and although wishful thinking has you hoping the girls are fast asleep in their beds, you know they're probably waiting for you to come and kiss them goodnight. In your opinion, Kento outshines you in almost every aspect of parenting, but bedtime belongs to you. He just can't do stories like you can—nothing beats the silly voices you give to each character. Your voice range is impeccable.

However, it is late, and you've had multiple conversations with your children about not waiting up for you tonight; one when they had just woken up, another during breakfast, and the last reminder during the car ride to school before dropping them off. They know very well that you had a company event to attend outside of work hours and wouldn't be home until late at night. But still, a small (horrible) part of you wanted them to still be awake, just to hear their cute giggles and feel their tiny, warm hands wrapped around your neck in a tight hug. 

"How'd it go?" Kento asks, closing the lid over the Tupperware filled with tonight's dinner, which looks (and smells) like beef and broccoli stir-fry. You stand in the kitchen with a puzzled look on your face.

Instead of answering his question, you point to the food in his hands. "They ate the broccoli?"

Nanami turns to face you and frowns. "Of course they ate the broccoli."

"What?! They never eat broccoli when I'm around."

"That's only because you don't eat broccoli, honey. You're their hero; they wouldn't even touch chocolate cake if dearest mommy turned up her nose at it."

"Dearest mommy, huh," you repeat after him, a grin slowly spreading across your face. Kento wraps one arm around your shoulders lazily, pulling you into him and pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head.

"They should be asleep—"

"Nice."

"But they're probably not," Nanami finishes. You lean your head back to look at him. The beginnings of a smile dance on the corners of his lips.

You fake gasp. "How naughty."

"Soooo naughty."

"I'll go check on them when I go up there to change my clothes." Kento lets go of you and runs a hand through his hair. Noting the exhaustion on his face, you add, "You should rest now that I'm home. I can pack the girls' lunches for tomorrow too."

He shakes his head. "They're already done, but did you know they're really into star shapes now? It was just hearts last week. I can do hearts. I did hearts like a pro, actually."

"Are stars really that hard to do?" You ask, tongue in cheek.

He shoots you a look. In your husband’s defense, he really did cut hearts into foods like a pro. Every single item that went into the girls’ lunch boxes that could be carved into the shape of a heart, was in the shape of a heart. You always watched Kento from the couch in the living room as he meticulously sliced and diced away to make his girls happy.

You pat your hand across one of his cheeks and coo, "You're the best dad ever, literally." You draw out the word literally, eliciting a snort from Nanami.

"I had to ban that word today."

Now it’s your turn to laugh—your oldest daughter learned the word 'literally' in school this week and hasn't stopped using it since. It's sort of hilarious how she sneaks it into every other sentence. You tilt your head to the side and reply in the most serious tone you can muster, "Thank you because it was literally driving me, literally, insane, literally."

A chorus of giggles erupts from the top of the stairs, followed by a thundering rumble of footsteps descending. The moment in the kitchen, interrupted.

Nanami shakes his head gently and sighs, "Hmm, I wonder if they’re awake."

You grab the back of his neck, yank him closer, and plant a loud kiss on his cheek. "My babies are spoiled like little princesses. They need entertainment to go to sleep, and I am their jester. I bid you farewell."

"You’re going to read them a bedtime story?"

"Yes, I am going to read them a bedtime story..."

"Now? At 10:00 PM? And you call me soft..."

“You are, don’t even start.”

After a beat, Kento says softly, “You're so good to them, you know? They’re so lucky to have you.”

Hearing those words from him stops you in your tracks. They wouldn't mean nearly as much coming from anyone else as they do coming from Kento, simply because he is the best father. 

He’s so patient, and kind, and understanding. He lets the girls wear whatever madness they want, and is completely fluent in their ramblings and mumbles— far better than you. He knows exactly how they like their oatmeal, and memorized the milk to cereal ratio they must have in their bowls or else the world stops for them; he knows exactly what to say when they're feeling upset to calm them down.

He learned how to bake white chocolate raspberry muffins because it’s their favourite. He learned how to do funky hairstyles just because a crazy hair day at their school was on the horizon. He even learned how to patch holes in their clothes instead of telling them not to lay and roll around in the wood chips at the park because he couldn't bear to cut into their fun.

If Kento didn’t know how to do something, he learned. He was always trying. 

To you, your husband is a hard-working, dedicated, outrageously beautiful force of a man.

To your children, he’s nothing short of magic.

[wereh0gz]

Corrupted - Oneshot (?)

Final Horizon's ending, but things go very, very wrong.

This au is driving me insane enough to get me back into writing fanfic after months of not writing. Might do more maybe idk.

Anyways. Woe corrupted au be upon ye.

Word count: 1697

The End looms over Ouranos island, its overwhelming presence crushing those below it. The Titan floats before it, beaten and powerless, yet kept up by its invisible puppet strings. A golden star glimmers defiantly, his piercing blue eyes staring death itself down.

"Sonic! It's now or never!" Eggman calls out, readying the rifle stolen from the Titan.

Sonic quickly flies into its giant barrel, focusing his power, ready to unleash it and end this nightmare once and for all.

"Sorry, Master King," Sonic says as he turns to face his enemy, "Looks like I'm going all-out after all."

He closes his eyes, tapping into the cyber-energy he kept locked away per the Koco's advice. It tingles in the tips of his fingers like electricity, spreading to his palms, up his arms, to the rest of his body. He shakes uncontrollably, power surging through his very veins, burning, corrupting.

No, wait, this isn't right. This isn't–

He yells out, pain consuming his entire being like a raging wildfire as his body spasms. Noise floods his ears, his mind racing, thoughts turning into static as he feels something snap.

The chains break.

The rifle fires.

Everything goes white.

-

Tails, Amy, Knuckles, Eggman, and Sage all watch with bated breath as a blue spark shoots out of the rifle, flying sporadically towards the entity looming overhead. The blue bullet pierces it, causing it to explode into thousands of fragments, raining pieces of heaven over the isles as the hellish red sky fades to a pleasant blue dawn, and the Titan falls dead onto the marshy battlefield.

The blue spark falls with the rest of the glimmering stars, crashing like a meteor, leaving a crater on the ground and burning the grass around him.

Now free of their corruption and back in physical forms, Amy, Tails, and Knuckles rush after their fallen friend, calling his name worriedly. They freeze at the crater's edge when their eyes land on Sonic, shaking as he slowly pushes himself up, eyes unfocused, growling and baring his teeth. His body is consumed by glowing cyan corruption shifting and flashing like pixels on a broken screen.

"Sonic?" Tails mutters, reaching out to him.

Sonic's head rises, his eyes darting from place to place before stopping at Tails, a black spiral staring deep into his very soul.

"Watch out!" Knuckles exclaimed, pushing Tails and Amy out of the way as Sonic lashes out, snarling and lunging at them.

Sonic knocks Knuckles down, pinning him to the ground.

"What the hell?! What's gotten into you?!" Knuckles kicks him off, sending him flying into a nearby tree. Sonic screams out in pain as he collides and falls to the ground.

"Tails, what's going on…?" Amy asked while summoning her Piko Piko Hammer.

"I-I don't know…" he stammered, "Maybe… maybe he couldn't handle all that power after all..."

Knuckles pushes himself up. "Whatever's happened to him, we gotta snap him out of it!"

Before they can do anything, however, Sonic disappears in a flash of blue, leaving a shockwave that knocks the three to the ground, and burnt grass in his wake. When they come to their senses, Sonic is nowhere to be seen, but explosions boom in the distance.

Eggman descends in his Eggmobile, followed by Sage floating next to him. There's a grim look on his face.

"Foolish hedgehog," he said, "he got in over his head and lost all control. Should've known not to take that kind of power lightly."

"This… out of my infinite calculations, this is the worst-case scenario." Sage shook her head. "He's been completely corrupted. If he's in this form for too long, he will–"

"No!" Tails interrupted, "I am not losing my brother to this!" He looks up to her, brows furrowed and a fire burning in his eyes. "Sage! You can track his movements, right?"

"Yes."

"You!" He looks to Eggman, who's scowling, "You're going to help us catch him!"

Eggman scoffs. "And what makes you think I'll help you?"

"Well, Sonic could come back at any moment, and, in this state, it's very likely he'll send you into orbit with zero hesitation the moment he sees you," Tails threatened, "plus, you're the only one with any tech on hand that could help us catch him. So either you help us get him under control, or he ends you along with us and the rest of the island."

"Tch– oh, fine!" Eggman grumbled, "I'll do it, but don't you dare think I'll ever help you again. This is the last time, got it?"

"Hmph." Tails glared at him, earning him a glare back.

Another explosion reverberates nearby, followed by Sonic screaming, catching everyone's attention.

"If my simulations are correct…" Sage began, "It should be possible to repurpose one of father's energy generators to siphon the Chaos and cyber energy out of him. But doing so comes at the risk of his life." Eggman seems to smile at that last sentence.

"Guys, I don't think we have much time left! H-how are we supposed to catch him like this?" Amy asked, gripping her hammer tightly.

Tails' heart drops, but he shakes his head. "It's worth a shot. It's not like we have any other options." Tails turns to Amy and Knuckles. "We're going to distract him while Eggman gets whatever he needs to catch him and bring him back to us. We don't have any time to waste, so let's go!"

Amy and Knuckles nod, and with that, the three set off after Sonic, following Sage's lead while Eggman goes in search for the necessary pieces to bring him down.

-

Noise. Too much. Hurts. It hurts. Head hurts. Burning. Too much noise. It hurts. It burns. It–

"You think you can escape the inevitable, mortal?"

…?

"Fool. Don't think you have bested me simply because you have destroyed my physical form. You cannot kill me, for I am infinite."

…!

"Your arrogance shall be your End."

-

Sonic's screams echo throughout Ouranos, he screams until his voice cracks and gives out. The pain, the burning, he can't take it. Can't think. His heart pounds in his chest as his form flickers red. He can't stop moving. He can't.

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

"There!" Sage said, pointing at Sonic as the rest caught up to her. "He's becoming more unstable! We need to act quickly!"

"Got it, kid!" Knuckles responded, "We'll take it from here!"

Knuckles immediately goes in for a punch, but Sonic is quick to dodge and retaliate, lunging at him and biting at his arm. Knuckles cries out in pain as he tries to shove him off.

Amy swoops in and, with a well-timed swing of her hammer, knocks Sonic away.

"I hate to do this to you, Sonic, but it's the only way!" Amy exclaims, but it falls upon deaf ears.

Sonic growls and pounces, bashing into her and knocking her down. Her hammer slips from her hands and falls just out of reach.

Before he can attack, Tails shoots him down with his arm cannon, the electric shot stunning him for a moment. "I'm sorry, Sonic," he muttered, seeing how much pain his brother was in.

Eggman and Sage approach from behind Tails, with some kind of device attached to the Eggmobile. A claw stretched out from the bottom of the floating vehicle, snatching Sonic while he's stunned.

He squirms and kicks and yells out in a vain attempt to free himself from the claw's iron grip. The device begins to rumble, and…

Sonic screams as the device drains him of his energy. Electricity sparks around him, the Emeralds finally leaving his body, flying off in different directions. It rips into his very being, tearing the corruption away from his body and into the Eggmobile's engines. The vehicle trembles, becoming overloaded with power.

"Father! Get out!" Sage cries.

Eggman hastily leaps out of the vehicle, barely landing on his feet, just as its internal mechanisms begin to explode under the immense pressure. The claw releases Sonic, letting him fall limp onto the grass as it crashes mere yards away and combusts.

"Sonic!" Tails, Amy, and Knuckles cry out as they rush to his side.

As he lies motionless on the grass, the voices of the crowd of five fade into merely distant echoes, until the burning pain that seared his body subsides, and everything goes quiet.

-

…

…

…

… It's dark.

His body felt so… drained. And heavy.

What's that noise? … Voices?

"I don't know how much longer I can keep him stable, father…" a younger, worried voice says, strangely sounding like it's coming out of a speaker.

"Just a little bit longer, Sage. The inhibitors are almost done… There!" an older voice says.

"Great! Now get them on, quick! Before the cyber corruption gets any worse!" a high-pitched voice exclaimed.

A hand gently lifts his left wrist, and something clicks around it. Then his right. Then around his ankles. Whatever it is feels heavy, and cold. But, somehow, the rest of his body begins to feel lighter.

"It's working! Oh my gosh, it's really working!"

"Pfft, of course it is! Thanks to my- and Sage's- ingenious design! And no thanks to you."

… What are they talking about…?

His eyes inch open, bright, white light filtering through, blinding him. He groans, closing his eyes again and rubbing them. His head hurt.

"Sonic? Are you okay? Can you hear me?" Another new voice spoke up.

"C'mon man, you've been out for almost two days now. Get up, sleepyhead!" Yet another new voice, deeper and rougher.

He feels a large hand push him. He jolts.

Suddenly, he found himself on the other side of the room, looking at five strangers that stared back at him with confused and worried looks on their strangely familiar faces. A fox with two tails, a pink hedgehog, a red echidna, and two humans, a giant clad in red with a dignified mustache, and a child that didn't look quite real.

His quills bristled. He felt his chest tighten, his breathing quicken, his hands trembling.

The fox looked at him with terrified blue eyes. "Sonic…?"

He tilts his head, confused.

Who's… Sonic?

[correctrvbquotes]

An angry, yellow-armored soldier appears in the base

Sister: Hey! A-hole! What's with all the noise? People are trying to sleep here!

Washington: Um... scratch that Command. It appears I've found someone. Recovery One out.

Sister descends the ramp slowly as if hungover

Sister: Ohhh man.

Washington: Hi. I'm Agent Washington. This is Blue Base, correct?

Sister: It was.

Washington: Was?

Sister: Everybody's gone. Transferred. Something about this base being obsolete now, or, whatever.

Washington: Right. Where did they go?

Sister: I don't know! All different places. Nobody told me anything.

Washington: Well, I'm trying to locate some people who have experience with the Freelancer program.

Sister: Freelancer? Is that the band we had here last night?

Washington: You had a party here?

Sister: Hyeah! I throw raves every night. Charge five bucks a head. Last night, I made ten bucks. Ooah ooah! Nice.

Washington: You use the base for raves? That doesn't seem like the proper use for official resources.

Sister: What're you, like a cop or something?

Washington: No.

Sister: 'Cause if you are, and I ask you, then you have to tell me. That's totally a law or something.

Washington: I'm not the police. And that's not a real law.

Sister: Well if you're not a cop, then how do you know it's not a real law? Busted!

Washington: You caught me. Hey, is there anybody else... smart... here that I can talk to?

Sister: Hyeah, right. Like I'm gonna tell you. I don't rat people out. Cop.

Washington: Okay, I'm gonna leave now. Good luck with your empty base and your raging insanity.

Sister: Hyeah? Whatever! Good luck with being a cop, cop!

[kofeedoggo]

I am slowly descending into insanity falling in love with Jae and Evon

They’re the same age group as Cas and Kyo (roughly, I think they’re both older than Evon, Cas is either a little younger or a little older than Jae) so I COULD SEE THEM BEING FRIENDS??? MAYHAPS????? Cas would be a chatterbox with them both and hang off their arms constantly to the point of being potentially irritating while Kyo enjoys their company in a normal. Chill manner. Like a normal person. And Jae being more timid when he was younger (insert excerpt from the post discussing their hair lengths) makes me think Cas would definitely look at him when they’re kids and go “time to drag him out of his shell kicking and screaming :))” while Kyo and Evon chill in the background

THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK!!!! :D Even if Cas would be talking their ears off, I think Jae would still appreciate the fact that they want to talk to him! I feel like he'd be slightly intimidated at how outgoing they are, scaring him off LOL. Cas trying to get him out of his shell if definitely an image, I can see like an alternate universe where Cas goes "He asked for NO pickles!" and that type of dynamic when they were younger DJISD. For Evon, she'd be very overwhelmed by the chatterbox at first, but as time goes on she'd get used to the noise and eventually be able to sleep while that goes on due to being desensitized LMAO. She is very eepy !! Evon would enjoy Kyo's chill demeanor for sure, and appreciate the peace! I feel like at some point she'd talk to him about the books she's reading (because Jae,,,, only likes comics LOL- he tries, he tries). They're very chill friends! With Jae, comparing the different energies of Cas and Kyo he would be so !!! confused!!! But enjoys Kyo's much calmer personality, and would probably give him a look of "help me" if Cas drags him to talk to others/be outgoing

[yeuxverts00]

Pièce de Résistance

A 10K OneShot written with Neilistic (Collab of my dreams) for the DWS Summer Lovin’ Gift Exchange (Explicit)

Summary: Healer Hermione Granger is slowly descending into wank-related madness as several of Draco’s veela samples conspire to drive her insane. Or; Four times healer Hermione came imagining veela Draco, and the one time she fucked him. Also, they’re soulmates.

Excerpt:

“May I ask—” he seemed to be taking care to keep his voice level. Unruffled. “—why you need a sample of my semen?”

“I have to explore all avenues, and as your condition seems to have something to do with… urges… I think it would be prudent.”

Hermione successfully managed not to blush by drawing her bottom lip between her teeth, and biting down. Draco’s eyes caught and held the movement. Grey flooded with molten silver, reflective and bright. Her wastepaper bin caught fire.

She tossed an extinguishing charm in that direction.

“I apologise.” Draco didn’t look contrite. He looked ready to raze St. Mungo’s to the ground like a pillaging viking. “I’ll do whatever needs to be done.”

Willing herself not to shake and shaking regardless, Hermione levitated a specimen jar towards Draco. She had to take extra care to not let it batter him about the head.

“So I—” He flicked his wrist elegantly, suggesting that bringing himself to orgasm would be an elegant affair. “Here?”

“Er—yes. I can find you an alternative room, or you’re welcome to apparate elsewhere and come back, but my other patients have felt comfortable enough to…”

“You ask such things of other patients?” There was a distinct note of affront to his tone—dare she say…jealousy? Her calendar went up in flames.

Hermione assiduously cast another Exstinguere, although the summer months now appeared to be a lost cause.

“Yes, it’s routine in some cases.” What even were these words leaving her mouth? Nothing was routine here. What was routine? Concepts were losing all meaning because she was thinking of Draco gripping himself tight, wing flaring wide.

She only hoped he couldn’t see the straws she was clutching at.

If she screamed the word professional enough times in her head, perhaps her professionalism would manifest itself.

“Fine.”

The jar was in his fingers, her lip was back between her teeth. She tasted copper.

“Is it standard procedure to be watched while producing the sample?”

“Wha—oh, no. Excuse me. I’ll be outside. But not close. Find me, when you’re… yes.”

She hurried out, putting as much distance between them as possible. She thought she was safe until she noticed she’d inexplicably drifted back down the length of an entire corridor. She was being summoned, as though by Accio, right back to where she’d left. Like a boomerang, she found herself leaning against her own office door again, drawn by the Heavenly music inside.

Her fierce anxiety was squaring off with delirious levels of lust. She was going to be fired. Arrested. This was sexual harassment. She had become criminally horny.

And yet couldn’t stop. She could hear rhythmic noises. A few soft grunts.

She was hysterically, ferociously aroused.

She was just beginning to wonder how much longer her knees could keep her upright when footsteps approached her office door. She nearly flew backwards into the opposite wall beneath a poster of a stern healer declaring SPATTERGROIT: IT’S NO JOKE.

He was standing in the doorway—sans shirt—avec wing—filling the doorway—becoming the doorway. The look he fixed her with suggested he was extremely unimpressed with her bedside manner. In his hand was a little jar and it was—

Oh Jesus H Merlin Christ. It was glowing with a diffuse phosphorescence simultaneously soothing to her eyes and profoundly alarming.

“Does it… normally do that?”

“Perhaps we can have this conversation back in your office.”

[were-michael]

Uncle

Henry Emily stared at his old friend's home. The Afton household looked dull, cold, reflecting the tragedy that befell the residents that once lived inside.

Police tape flowed gently in the light breeze. They had abandoned the investigation. Why? Henry was still fighting for that answer

The man found the door to the home unlocked, revealing the abandoned family home. Everything had been left. Like nothing had been touched.

Maybe something here could give some closure to what happened to his friend, his family and maybe even Henry's own daughter. He hated the thought but all signs pointed to William being the killer.

Henry rummaged through old cupboards, bedrooms and filing cabinets

Nothing.

That left the basement. Michael had told him William vanished in there a lot. Evan added to that, stating he heard weird noises at night from the basement

William's workshop.

The man had always claimed to have one but never let Henry see it. It worried Henry but he respected his business partner's privacy

Tense with anxiety, Henry slowly pushed open the door to the basement. The dark staircase greeting him.

The man slowly descended into the basement. He was greeted with a sight that was the complete opposite of the upper half of the house.

The place had been trashed. Paper had been made into a carpet as it sprawled over the cold, blood stained floor.

That was another thing. There was dry blood. Stained over the floor, desk and what looked liked a ruined chair

What had William been doing here?

Henry crouched down to the paper cover floor and picked up one of the loose sheets.

Scribbled notes had been written on it. Rants about something called Remnant and the diner.

It froze Henry to his core. Had the business he and William worked so hard for just a lab experiment?

He rummaged through the desk's drawers finding mainly scrap metal and random tools. An odd mess for such an organised man.

Then his hand hit something. Paper, it felt like. A stack of it. A file.

Henry pulled it out and was greeted with the word "Failed" in bold red pen.

Yet up in the corner it stated RE-001 BR

Some sort of test?

Henry placed it on the table and opened it wide. He read the first page. William was going on some rant about eternal life and how he could discover it.

Then the next page went on about animals and their Remnant, a substance William had apparently discovered. One someone could collect after the death of something living.

Then there was the diary entry

October 25th 1983

I have successfully gained some Remnant.

I harvested the substance from a bear cub that had given its life to my research. I am one step closer to my success thanks to the animal.

Now, to get the subject in place.

Henry's confusion only grew. William killed a cub before all of this and for what? Some substance he believed would make him Immortal.

Afton had always been strange but this was taking it to a new level. Henry's friend, business partner, was insane

He flipped the page.

October 27th 1983

Remnant Experiment 1. Bear Experiment.

Subject was reluctant to help. He's always been like that. Gets it from his father. Stubbornness.

He fought back but I was able to get the Remnant in place. His body accepted it nicely at first, healing anything it could.

Then the change began. He began to shift into a bear-human hybrid. It was interesting to say the least but not the result I wanted.

Do not use animal Remnant again. Michael was bound to be a disappointment anyway.

Michael? William's own son? The man Experimented on his own son?!

Henry could feel his blood boil. Not only had William potentially killed people but he Experimented on his son like he was some form of lab rat.

That's when Henry heard a noise behind him. A clang of metal.

A snarl of an animal was heard after.

The man turned to see a brown bear huddled into the corner. Shredded clothing, leftover food and a blanket lay by its paws.

It looked scared. A chain had been tied around it.

Henry could believe what he was seeing. It was exactly how William described. A Bear-human hybrid.

"Michael?" Henry called out to the creature.

The bear's ear twitched as it cried out.

"Jesus Christ" Henry gasped. "What did he do to you?"

The bear or Michael rather, sniffed the air and cried when he smelt something new. Henry couldn't imagine how long he was down here

"It's ok, Mike. It's me" Henry slowly approached the boy. "It's Henry"

Michael slowly approached and sniffed Henry's hand, crying more when he realised who it was.

"It's ok, Michael. Let's get you out of here" Henry spoke, moving to the chain. Michael carefully watched him as he unwrapped the chain around his leg.

As soon as the chain left, Michael leaned down and began licking his back leg much like how a dog would.

"There we go, Mike" Henry said softly.

Michael then let out a loud yell, making the man jump back.

Horrifyingly, the bear began morphing back into the boy. His bones and body parts cracking and reshaping.

There, laying in front of Henry, was a scared bare Michael Afton.

"Holy shit" Henry gasped. He quickly took off his long coat and wrapped it around the teen.

Michael looked up at Henry, tears staining his eyes.

"It hurts" Michael began. "It hurts so much, Uncle Henry"

His voice was harsh, dry, and painful. He sobbed.

"I just want it to stop" Michael cried. "Why me? Why did he do this to me?"

Henry pulled the teen into his arms and was quick to console him.

"You're ok, Michael. I've got you. You're safe now, ok? Ill take you home and I'll watch over you" Henry spoke. "Is that alright?"

Michael nodded almost instantly.

"Come on then. Let's get you home"

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

Where the Tainted Kiss [Chapter Twenty-two] Turn Back the Pendulum [Vaas Montenegro]

Warning(s): implied rape/non-con, murder, betrayal, dark themes, drug use, hallucinations, implied suicide. This chapter is dark, you have been warned.

No Minors Allowed!!

This was an absolute nightmare.

Sure, Vaas was frightening, and dealing with him was no cakewalk. His unpredictable antics were hard to read, but what made Bambi worse, in Liv's opinion, was that she knew what she had in store for herself and Keith the moment he sauntered through the door.

Liv paced back and forth across the room attempting to calm her nerves. Her wrists were on fire; the skin was torn and inflamed, a product of her struggle against the Manila rope Bambi had bound her with hours ago. The taste of dirty linens on her tongue made her want to gag. 

This wasn't the first time he had done it, however. 

The afternoon Liv was kidnapped by Bambi, he let her see just how sadistic he could be, forcing himself on Keith. It was sickening. She tried to intervene, but she wound up on her stomach with her hands and legs tied behind her back. She then tried to turn him off, shouting as loud as she could about herself - her job and such - but Bambi gagged her with his shirt and left her to writhe, struggling to get free. 

In the end, Liv wasn't able to do anything for Keith. It tore her apart, especially when she couldn't ignore the pleas. 

She wasn't sure how long she had been locked in the basement, but Bambi had tied her up at least 4 times now; the most recent being this morning. Her body was worn out and her throat was sore, but her pain meant nothing compared to the trauma Keith had suffered.

Liv turned her attention to the man in question. He was sitting up on the edge of the bed, staring at his trembling hands. Feeling her eyes on him, he met her stare. 

"What?"

Not sure what to say, Liv forced a soft smile.  

"I heard you came down to the island from a plane."

To emphasize her point she slowly moved her hand through the air in front of her; Keith snorted weakly in response.

"It was cray. We've done much weirder shit though," he uttered.

Liv grinned.

"That's insane. I'd never have the guts to do half the stuff you and your friends have done."

For a moment at least Keith looked alive; his tired eyes averted to his hands and Liv knew she had lost him again. 

She frowned and sat on the bed beside him, careful not to touch him for fear that he'd break down. There wasn't much she could do for him but listen. Liv had never been in a situation like this before and it tore her apart that she could not offer Keith more comfort.

"None of this is your fault. I can't fathom the pain you're going through but for now, at least, I'm here to bear some of it with you," she uttered. Her poor excuse of words made her sob. "That wasn't assuring at all, was it?"

"No… But it was the nicest thing I've heard since I got here," Keith answered. 

Tears slid down her heated cheeks, but she refused to break down in front of the blond. He didn't appear to have the strength to deal with both of their flaring emotions. 

A sudden noise from the other side of the door caught Liv's attention; it almost sounded like a voice and unless Bambi was talking to himself, someone else was out there with him. Panic consumed her and her heart began to hammer in her chest. What if he had called Vaas?

Liv tried her best to recognize the voices but she could hardly hear them.

To her horror, a moment later, the door came open and the voices became clearer, revealing an unfamiliar male with brown hair to her as he descended the stairs. His eyes widened upon seeing her. Who was he?

"Can you imagine gettin' stabbed by this?" Bambi asked as he walked up behind the unnamed male. He carried a large knife in his hand, turning it beneath the dim red light as he examined it. "Like Shakespeare stabbin' you with his quill."

Liv raised a curious brow. What was going on? The distraught male beside her bowed his head in fear.

"Keith?" The brown-haired male called as he hurried over and leaned down to touch him, a sudden action that made him go into a panic.

"Please, no more. Please. I'm begging you! I can't take any more," Keith begged.

Liv felt her lip quiver as she watched the display, tossing her arm between them careful not to touch them. Her tear-filled eyes narrowed as she stared at the newcomer.

"Leave him alone. If you have to hurt someone then hurt me."

A strange tribal tattoo on his arm drew her attention. Was he an ally? He wasn't wearing red, but neither was that bastard Bambi when she let her guard down around him. He wore red, but only between the crevices of his fingernails where no one could see.

"I'm not going to hurt either of you," he retorted sadly.

Upon hearing his voice, Keith looked at him in disbelief and then averted his eyes to Bambi for a moment.

"Jason, you gotta get me outta here. I'm begging you, please! You gotta get me outta here, man!"

This man was Jason? Liv widened her eyes. He came. She put down her arm, grateful that he was there.

"I'm getting you out ok?"

"Yeah, you promise," Keith uttered. "You got to promise me."

Jason shook his head and averted his eyes to Liv who was staring at him pleadingly.

"I'll get both of you out."

"Yeah. Look, about that, mate," Bambi interrupted. "I am grateful, right? And uh... Well. I'd really like to show my appreciation, you know, proper like a man should."

He reached down and lewdly grabbed his crotch to emphasize his point. Liv curled her nose in disgust.

"You said we could leave, you fuck," Jason argued.

Did he make some sort of deal with Bambi?

He played him too.

"No, no, no, no. Actually what I said was Keith could leave with you but you're not going anywhere," Bambi claimed. His malicious eyes turned to Liv. "And her, well I have plans for her."

Plans? What was he babbling about? Did these plans involve Vaas? Liv shivered to think so.

"We're walking through that door; the three of us," Jason declared as he stared him down.

"I think you should reconsider, mate. You don't realize who you're tryin' to save. Olivia here is a double-edged sword," Bambi explained with a grin.

Was he trying to turn Jason against her? It didn't matter who Liv was or where she came from, she wanted the same thing as him, to escape the island. Jason turned his curious eyes to her for a moment, tightened his jaw as though he wasn't sure, and then shook his head.

"All of us."

"Suit yourself mate," Bambi uttered, clutching the knife in his hand. "I'll take you bloody if you like. I like my meat rare."

Jason retrieved his knife and held it up. The two began to circle the other, waiting for the one to make a move. Jason was the first, but unfortunately, when he brought his blade down, Bambi grabbed his wrist and held it down, attempting to strike at the American with the strange knife he walked in with. Luckily Jason was able to block with his arm and knock the blade away with the other.

Liv was shocked. For someone like her, someone recently brought to the island, he was rather good at close-quarters fighting, almost like he had been trained. Who was Jason before he came to the island? She had no doubt the Rakyat were in league with him, as the Pirates had said. But could he defeat Bambi?

Their attacks were not hitting; each was having no trouble blocking the other, until Bambi managed to knock the knife away from Jason, knocking him onto his back.

"This is some fucked up foreplay, eh?" He questioned with a laugh, earning a shiver of disgust from Keith.

What will happen to him if Jason loses? Liv knew what was in store for her, but what about Keith? She couldn't stand to think about it; Bambi had already done so much to him. He'd never be able to live a normal life again without thinking back on this with fear. This sickened her.

That bastard can't be allowed to live.

Tightening her jaw, Liv glanced around the room. There wasn't much in terms of weapons, but something did catch her eye. She crawled onto the bed and yanked down the string of LED lights attached to the wall, ignoring the heat against her skin as she clutched them in her hand. She was fortunate that Bambi didn't notice her, too focused on the knife fight to care about insignificant her.

Not for fucking long.

When he and Jason clashed, she tightened the string around her hands and jumped down from the bed, rushing toward the sick fuck. Leaping onto his back, Liv brought her arms forward and wound the LED lights around his throat, tightening them. Bambi choked in protest, trying to shake her from him, but Liv slid her legs around his waist and held on tight.

"Fucking bitch," he hissed.

Jason forced the blade of the dagger against Bambi's face, attempting to cut him, but even with the two against him, he was able to push it away from him. Coming forward, Jason slammed his forehead into his attacker and stunned him for a moment, forcing him to loosen his grip on the dagger. Liv leaned back, putting all her weight into the lights as Jason redirected the blade into the man's chest. He gave a pained cry as it was yanked from him, then Jason used his right leg to kick Bambi off his feet; he fell back and landed on Liv, knocking the breath from her.

For fuck's sake he's heavy.

She groaned in pain and released the string; broken glass stung her palms but at the moment she didn't care.

"Someone... please."

Jason and Keith hurried over to her and yanked the body off her, tossing him onto the floor in a heap.

"You sure he's dead?" Keith asked as Jason helped her up.

The said man shook his head.

"Everything's going to be okay. Come with me. I know a place where you both will be safe."

Liv stood with a groan and followed Jason outside where a Scavenger was parked. Without looking back, she spat on the ground and got into the backseat; Keith sat on the passenger's side next to Jason, who started the vehicle and drove them down a narrow trail into the jungle. 

For a while, it was silent between them until Liv noticed eyes on her through the rearview mirror. She raised a brow in curiosity as if asking Jason to enlighten her on what was on his mind.

"What did he mean? That sick fuck said you were a double-edged sword. Why?" He asked.

Liv took an uneasy breath. She knew there was no point in lying to him. If he were to find out, he'd never help her.

"I came from Vaas' camp; I escaped and I think Bambi was going to return me to him."

Jason raised a curious brow.

"What does that matter? I escaped that sadistic fuck too."

"He owns me," Liv mentioned. "Bought me from Hoyt the same way Bambi bought Keith."

To emphasize her point, she pointed at the red cloth around her neck that for some reason she hadn't taken off yet. Jason narrowed his eyes in thought but said nothing else. 

At the base of a hill, he parked the vehicle and opened the door. Where were they? Liv didn't see anyone around. She watched Jason walk over to the passenger side door, but once she attempted to open hers, he stopped her.

"Sit here."

Liv raised a brow. Why? Did he not trust her? Jason helped Keith from the vehicle and walked him up the hill and out of sight.

Tears gathered in her eyes.

I knew this would happen.

Fuck Bambi. He was laughing at her from beyond the grave. 

Liv thought about running. She had no idea where she would go, or who she would turn to, but she had a feeling she wasn't safe with Jason anymore. 

I need to see the Rakyat. Someone might be able to help me. 

Perhaps someone would understand. 

It wasn't long before Jason returned. He said nothing as he got into the vehicle and started it, leaving the hillside. 

"Where are you taking me?" Liv asked.

"To see someone," Jason merely answered.

There was something wrong with him; he wasn't the same person who left the vehicle a moment ago.

Liv tightened her jaw and looked out the window, trying to determine where she was. This part of the jungle was new to her; she had never been further than Bambi's house and even then she wasn't sure how far onto the island that was. 

The drive wasn't far, but it was nerve-wracking. Once Jason parked the vehicle, he gestured for Liv to follow him and walked toward an ancient structure with fire-lit braziers and animal statues outside the entrance.

What is this place?

It appeared to be some sort of ancient temple. Liv walked behind Jason into an open area with a large tree, towering over a camp of people; something about them made her feel uneasy as if she didn't belong there. 

"Welcome back, Jason," a dark-skinned man announced upon seeing the American. "I had nearly forgotten your face. I am glad to see you. The knife, it is in your hands?"

"I have it," Jason confirmed.

The man held out his hand to accept it, but another voice interrupted the exchange. 

"You return to us bearing that which has been lost," a beautiful woman mentioned. Her accent sounded a bit like Ariefs. 

Liv widened her eyes, immediately recognizing her. She was the woman with the alluring eyes from the picture she had seen the day she first kissed Vaas. Who was she? Her attention went to Liv a moment, looking her over, then returned to Jason; the latter handed her the dagger.

"That blade spilled the blood for our ancestors. It has been conquered and the dead have been avenged. Come with me," she ordered, turning to hand the blade to the man beside her, who accepted it on his knees.

Liv wasn't sure how important this dagger was to them, but an hour ago it was caked with the blood of a sadistic fuck; not like she needed to know this. As Jason began to follow her, Liv took a step to do the same, but the dark-skinned man stopped her.

"Not you. This place is meant only for warriors; the Rakyat."

So, these people were the Rakyat that Liv had heard about. She found them at last. But why was she not relieved to see them? Liv watched Jason and the woman disappear into a part of the temple behind the tree and stood in awkward silence.

"Come this way," the man ordered. 

Hesitantly, Liv followed him back to the entrance; the two men armed with assault rifles trailed behind her.

"You come here to the Rook Islands alone?" The man asked in curiosity. 

"No," Liv uttered. "But my coworkers are both gone now."

He hummed. Standing with her next to a brazier, he glanced her over. 

"American too?"

Liv shook her head in agreement. She peered at the two armed men in unease. 

"I'm Dennis," the dark-skinned man announced. 

Dennis? Could he be the one Vaas mentioned; the one who put the scar on him? He too had one branching across his face, as Vaas had told her. 

He called him lovesick.

Liv had yet to understand why. But to be cautious she opted not to mention that she had escaped from Vaas' camp or that he owned her in a weird sense. If he already knew, it had yet to be seen. 

When the woman from earlier returned, she was alone. An air of worry surrounded Liv as she watched her saunter toward her. Motioning toward an armed man, he aimed his gun at Liv; she raised her hands in protest.

What the fuck was happening?

"Get on your knees," the armed man ordered.

Liv did so, watching the woman as she whispered something to Dennis; the latter nodded and quickly walked off back toward the temple.

"Do you know of me?" The woman asked. 

Liv shook her head, making her laugh.

"Vaas never spoke about me? Citra."

What did Vaas know about her?

"Not once," Liv answered.

Jason must have told her where she came from. But why was she holding her at gunpoint? It wasn't like Liv was a spy. 

"I managed to escape him," she mentioned. "I'm sure Jason told you that. I came looking for the Rakyat, for help."

An armed man snorted but Citra raised her hand, hushing him. She untied the cloth from Liv's neck and put it against her nose; a look of disgust marred her gorgeous face.

"You smell of him; of that traitor."

Leaning down in front of Liv, she grinned.

"Of my brother."

What? This woman was Vaas' sister. He never mentioned this to Liv. It made sense though; the warning look Carlos gave her whenever she asked about her, and the information that Vaas gave her.

"I'm from here," Vaas had told her. "I was a warrior, but that's another fucking story."

He was once a member of the Rakyat. But why did he abandon them? Was it because of Hoyt? The money, drugs, and women? 

For fuck sake. I feel like I'm in a soap opera.

This was the most fucked up sibling rivalry she had ever seen.

Dennis sauntered from the temple carrying a decorative bowl with him. As he approached, Liv noticed that the contents were clear, sloshing like soup. He handed Citra the bowl and stood to the side. 

"Open her mouth," she ordered. 

Liv widened her eyes in fear. One of the armed men secured her arms at her side while the other yanked back her head; her scalp burned in protest and despite struggling, one of them managed to pry open her mouth. 

Citra retrieved a knife from Dennis and slid the blade into Liv's mouth resting it on her tongue as if threatening to cut her if she moved. Tilting the bowl forward, she poured the contents into the back of her throat; Liv gagged in protest, sputtering on the strange-tasting liquid. She had no choice but to swallow it.

Once her body was free and the knife was removed, Liv gasped for air. She clutched her throat and shot a glare at Citra. 

"What did you give me?"

"You shall see," Citra answered.

Was it poison? Liv only wanted to escape; she put her trust in the Rakyat, hoping they would help her. 

Something strange was happening to her body. Her heart pounded erratically and her stomach churned. Liv swore her sight was distorting; hues of magenta and cerulean flashed before her eyes. What disturbed her most of all was the halo of light that seemed to surround Citra. 

"You're just as bad as him."

Dennis glared at Liv and stepped toward her, but Citra stopped him. 

"You're no warrior, no one important," she mentioned. "I wonder what he sees."

She leaned down in front of Liv and tied the cloth back around her neck. 

"A boneka cantik (pretty doll)? With all your little cracks."

Liv narrowed her eyes. What the fuck did she know?

"You want the Rakyat to save you?" Citra questioned with a grin. Her eyes were the most vivid and alluring shade of blue-gray that Liv had ever seen. Standing, she turned them to her men. "Let the jungle take her."

Was she serious? This wasn't saving Liv, this was a mercy killing.

Yanking her onto her feet, one of the armed men walked her into the jungle near the temple and shoved his gun into her back. 

"Walk," he ordered. 

Liv didn't waste her breath trying to argue with him and stumbled further into the jungle. She'd rather be miles away from the temple before Citra and her people changed their minds. It seemed the lesser of the two evils, to turn her to the jungle, but in the state she was in, anything was bound to happen. 

The very atmosphere around her seemed to change; the damp heat was almost pleasant and the colors were so vivid and bright, she swore that she had stumbled into another world. 

Curiouser and curiouser.

Liv was certain now that what she had been given was some sort of hallucinogen. How brutal. As if the jungle wasn't already dangerous. One wrong step and–

The ground opened up and swallowed her whole. 

Liv tumbled down, feeling her body shift into a roll. It continued for a few seconds until something cold and wet slammed into her, taking her breath away. She struggled to breathe, thrashing about until she turned onto her back and took a deep breath. It took her a moment to realize that she had tumbled down a steep hill into a shallow pool of water.

How did I miss that?

"Because you're trippin' balls," a familiar voice answered. 

Liv widened her eyes and sat up, seeing Chris standing just outside the pool. He looked the same as the last time she saw him, albeit dead. His once dark brown eyes were now a pale, lifeless color, and his skin was ashen. 

"Y-you can't be here," she uttered. 

"Yeah, well I am," Chris retorted. "And before you get all teary-eyed, 'boo hoo this isn't real', it isn't. You think I'd come back to haunt your ass when I can haunt anyone I want. I'd literally teabag some hot supermodel."

To emphasize his point, he bent his knees and demonstrated a teabag, making Liv snort. 

"Then why am I seeing you?" She asked. 

Chris stopped and pointed to his head. 

"Because you're fucking insane. I don't know… Survivor's guilt."

"Citra drugged the hell out of me," Liv uttered.

She stood and groaned upon seeing the state of her being; the clothes she wore were soaked through and covered in mud.

I can give a Predator a run for its money.

Chris snorted in response.

"I'm in your head, remember," he pointed out upon seeing the curious look on Liv's face. 

"This must be a bad trip," she uttered. 

Walking over to Chris, Liv grew curious and reached her hand out, attempting to touch him. Her fingers, however, just passed through his chest. 

"I'm not a fucking ghost," he argued. "I'm not even here."

He muttered under his breath and turned around, walking further into the forest. Liv stared at him for a moment then hesitantly followed. She had no idea where he was going, but to her shock, the jungle soon ended, and a narrow road came into view. 

"Where to next?" Liv asked. 

She wasn't certain which direction to go. As she turned, glancing down the road to her left, she heard a loud gunshot go off. It sounded close. Liv turned to the right, but instead of Chris, a short half-mile down, she saw an old chair, and sitting in it was a person. 

Was this part of the hallucination? 

Liv was hesitant at first, but then quickly walked down the road toward the person in the chair. It took her only a moment to realize that she knew this person. Her heart sank.

"No… Please." 

How could she have forgotten that old chair? It was her father's favorite. And the gunshot she heard–

Liv fell to her knees in the middle of the road, choosing not to approach him. It was far too late to do anything about it and with this being a hallucination, he wasn't actually there. 

The memories were real though and they hit her like a ton of bricks. Fat warm tears poured down her face as she loudly sobbed. Why did it have to be this? It wasn't fair; this island was maddening. 

I'm so tired of this. I can't do this anymore. 

Liv got onto her feet and walked briskly toward the hallucination of her father.

"I'm sorry! But this isn't real!" She shouted. "I can't change the past! So, leave me alone!"

She never got there, however, as he faded before her eyes, and in front of her stood 3 Pirates, men wearing red with their guns drawn on her. A Scavenger sat parked in the road behind them. 

"Yeah," the voice of Chris answered, as he walked up beside her with his hands raised. "This isn't in your head."

Is this–

Liv widened her eyes and raised her hands as one of the three Pirates sauntered toward her. 

She fucked up. 

[trlblzd]

@oudachi sent : [ SCAR ]:          noticing a scar on the receiver’s skin, the sender tentatively stops them from covering it up, and rests a gentle, soft kiss over it.

THEIR CLOTHES HAD BEEN SOILED BECAUSE OF A misstep of one of the employees in the hotel. in the lobby where stelle and acheron delved into idle chatter, a server had lost their balance. foot caught on the carpet, drinks splattered all over their attire. they recall everything vividly --- the PROFUSE apologies of the worker and the glances of concerned people who started WHISPERING amongst themselves over an honest mistake done by a tired employee. it was all too much so they had to mediate the crowd and the worker, themselves, who only really calmed after stelle had extended their comfort about not minding and merely asking for tissues.

now, they are back inside the comfort of their room with acheron. they do not find her presence in here ODD as they have hung out numerous times before. thankfully, the drink spilled on them was not a hot one but they do KNOW that it will take a long while of scrubbing before this stain is removed. they do not hesitate all that much when it comes to changing in front of her, hands finding the hem of their shirt --- they slowly lift it up. " my luck is so insanely bad. i did not expect my favourite shirt to immediately go in the wash THIS early. " an easygoing laugh leaves them as they shake their head, not too worried about being seen near topless.

their skin is far from UNMARRED, bits and areas where flesh are usually exposed in their outfit have fading scars on them from the countless battles that they have been on yet NOTHING is more notable than the one around the centre of their chest. it is a sizeable one ... the kind which INDICATES a stab wond. the kind which shows the brief opening of where the stellaron is. there is a faint glow which resonates in the middle of their frame but they pay no heed to it as this is merely their normal state. this is the kind that they usually hide from prying eyes. they do not note of acheron's lingering stare as they fish out a better top which they do a small noise of achievement with. ( the ah-ha ! indicates a good find. ) they do not notice how she gets closer until they feel her touch along BARE skin.

they flinch a tad at the GESTURE, eyes going partially wide as they vocalize a soft hey in wonder. it is only really now that they recognize their own state of UNDRESS. it is only now that they note how close she is. & when her head descends, they gasp softly.

the feeling of her lips on their skin is ELECTRIFYING. it makes them yelp and all sense of boldness drops as red coats their very cheeks. the sharp inhale, the softened look in their eyes ... how dangerous. the fabric of their newly grabbed top bunches up in their hands & as lips quiver, out comes a nervous laugh.

" h-hey ... are --- uh, are you tryin' to get somewhere with me ? " somehow, that comment does not help them cure their flustered state.

[thatonesongyouretryingtoremember]

Percy "My girlfriend just said she hates me" Jackson and Annabeth "What? I just said your music makes focusing hard for me!" Chase.

Annabeth "My boyf wants me to slowly descend into insanity" Chase and Percy "I just asked if we could listen to something besides liminal space white noise" Jackson

[theghostpinesmusic]

I've done all of these posts about Phish jams lately, and somehow I haven't yet written about a version of "Down With Disease"? What?!

"Disease" has been one of the band's most consistent and consistently varied jam vehicles since the mid-90s. The composed part of the song itself is a pretty straight-ahead rock and roll number (by Phish's standards, at least) but for whatever reason seems to almost always inspire the band to take a journey into deep improvisational territory. The only version I can think of off hand that doesn't do this (though I'm sure there are some more) is the version from 8/7/09, but that was the first live Phish song I ever heard, opening their '09 stand at the Gorge, and I was having so much fun just being there and taking everything in that to this day it's still one of my favorite versions, despite the lack of jamming.

I'm really glad the band semi-belatedly posted this version from their recent Sphere run, because in a run that was characterized by both monster jams and monster Sphere visuals (if you aren't yet convinced, maybe the literally billions of words I've already written about it will convince you) this was hands-down my favorite jam. The visuals are great, though I think you could easily make the case that a lot of the other songs throughout the run had even better visuals. But I'm not here to talk about those, I'm here to talk about the music. And this music is, as the guy in front of me at every Phish show I've ever been to would say, "fucking sick, bro."

It all starts off in the lot

It all starts off, insanely enough, out of a fantastic version of "Oblivion," which opened 4/21's second set. The weird loops and ambient noise you hear at the beginning of the video is a transition out of the end of "Oblivion" and into the...weird loops and ambient noise that normally characterize the beginning of "Disease." When Mike starts his bass riff, he's starting the song proper.

Trey then proceeds to forget the very first lyric of the song, which is hysterical. He was probably looking at the screen behind him as it is doing some wild Gates of Heaven/Hell thing right away.

Anyway, up through 4:10 the song is played basically as usual (though nobody told Fishman that, apparently, because he's playing for his life from the very beginning), and then we move into a Trey solo based on the song's chorus chords. There's some great Trey/Mike interplay during this section. Also the visuals start to diversify a bit. They looked a bit too much like a huge insect face to me in my altered state during the livestream, which my brain did not like. YMMV.

At 6:05 or so, Trey moves from playing a solo to playing a series of cascading notes a few times in a row, which pushes the whole band's intensity level up a bit. Page in particular starts driving the jam a bit more noticeably here, leading to a section around 7:00 or so when he, Trey, and Mike all land on the same drone-ing idea together for a few seconds. From here the jam slowly dissolves away from the "Disease" chords into something more ethereal.

By 7:30, Fishman has moved from a rock and roll beat to more of a backbeat, and everyone else is layering reverb-y melodies over top of each other. I'm a huge sucker for this kind of stuff, especially when it happens while Fishman is keeping the momentum going. Page adds a siren at 8:30, which the first of many signs that this is going to be the jam that ends up on the top of my list for this run.

This wonderful synth-y madness continues for a bit, with the visuals changing (maybe?) in response to the spaciness of the music.

At about 10:05, Trey locks onto this sinister-sounding tone and starts repeating a descending riff that takes us firmly into Evil Phish territory. The combo of the lights and music here probably would have killed me if I'd been there in person.

By 11:00, Page and Trey are bouncing ideas back and forth, but to be honest I'm not clear on who's doing what. I choose to be blissfully ignorant!

At 11:34, there's a subtle but important change from Trey that sends the jam turning in a more uplifting/major key direction. They've already built the foundation to just absolutely crush this more blissful space into atoms, but instead they take the patient route. Trey's playing here, for some reason, reminds me of Round Room. Maybe it's the guitar tone?

The obvious highlight through this section is Trey's light, fluttery playing, but I can't say enough about Mike's bass tone, which is lurking slightly behind the bliss jamming like the villain from an Atari 2600 game, chomping away at all your pellets and turning you into a ghost...or something. It's been a long time since I've played anything on an Atari 2600.

This particular jam rolls on for a few more minutes and then Fishman switches up the beat at 15:26, but Trey stops playing, and for a second it seems like they might wrap things up/move to a new song here...but then at 15:40, Trey jumps back in with some super-funky chording and the rest of the band picks up where they left off. Pretty quickly, there's a move into blues territory at 16:16, and a great section where everyone else is basically just playing fairly pedestrian stuff while Fishman is absolutely losing his goddamn mind.

We segue out of that into a more full-band blues improvisation, which starts to build momentum almost immediately. There's a few bits from Page here that seem like almost-but-not-quite "Bathtub Gin" teases, then at 18:00 we reach a big, high-energy peak that has everyone firing on all cylinders. Again, the visuals appear to adjust according to this, but I'm not sure if that's something that can actually happen technologically. This peak lasts for a few minutes, but, to my ears at least, it never really loses momentum and always, somehow, seems to be building in intensity, so it doesn't feel like overkill or overindulgence: Trey somehow keeps finding higher and higher frets on his guitar, and I'm here for it.

Things finally start winding back down a bit at 21:30, and if the band went back into the outro to "Disease" here and called it a day, this would still be one of the best jams of the run. Instead, we still have twelve minutes left.

The next section of the jam leans a bit on Trey's guitar loops, and in some places (I assume unintentionally) they overlap initially in ways that remind me of "Crosseyed and Painless." Then things get a little grungier and the loops go away as the band heads into a groove that has a bit of a "Manteca" feel. In fact, I remember waiting with bated breath for a "Crab in my shoemouth!" lyric when watching this live. Alas!

What we get instead is a pretty fantastic blues-rock jam. I love the part where Fishman essentially drops out at 24:30 and comes back with a John Bonham-like tree-trunks-for-sticks beat immediately.

There's a bit of reconfiguring happening at 25:10, and what emerges is something a little goofier, with Page on either electric piano or synth and Trey adding some loops. Tonally, this section is pretty cool in a weird way: a mix of the grungy darkness of Trey's guitar and an almost circus-like feel from what Mike and Page are playing.

Things start to go almost-ambient at 27:00, feeling almost like a return to or reprise of the space that started around the 11:00 mark. The combination of Mike's mantra-like playing and Trey's use of his octave shifter here is just ridiculously cool. It's one of the many, many pieces of music from this run that I feel like I could listen to on loop for hours.

It feels like things get a little too weird for their own good, though, at 28:30, so the band is like "Why not get even weirder?!" There's another quick transition and suddenly we're getting both Stones-esque rock and roll and "Flight of the Bumblebee" at the same time. What is happening? Presumably someone knows, but it's not me.

The insect mask is back, and I'm trying to avert my eyes so He doesn't take over my mind with His eldritch powers.

BUT I CAN'T LOOK AWAY!

This jam space sounds like "Llama" if Led Zeppelin had written it. Holy crap. There's something for everyone in this "Disease" jam, unless you're me, in which case all of it is for you.

The totally bonkers visuals are just the icing on the cake. And so is Fishman's suddenly loud, violent, and commanding drumming.

The whole thing builds to another peak here, but one made of chaos and madness rather than bliss and happiness, and then...and THEN at 32:17 the band moves back into whatever key "Disease" is in. If you're a huge nerd like me you know what's coming next, it's just a question of how long they're going to make us wait for it.

Not long.

At 32:44, Trey flawlessly jumps back into the "Disease" riff twenty-eight minutes after he left it and the crowd loses it so loudly you can hear it on the video.

These guys could have just played the Sphere, thrown up some cool videos during the songs, and called it a day. But instead, forty years into their tenure as a band, they're there throwing down probably the best "Down With Disease" I've ever heard them play.

What in the absolute fu

[sebsxphia]

he knows you’re going to tire yourself out too quickly if you try to keep up with the fast pace that you’ve set. and he wants — no, needs — to watch your beautiful, blissed out face as you make yourself cum on his cock.

he keeps you there a few long moments, big hands rubbing soothing circles into the notch of your hips, and you can’t help but squirm at the feeling of him so deep inside of you, so full. a quiet mewl falls from your lips and into the crook of his neck as you bury your face there, begging him.

“joel, please… let me-” trying — and failing — to move your hips under his firm grasp.

he groans deep in his throat as your walls squeeze tight around him, gently squeezing at your hip.

“alright, alright sweetheart.” joel presses a kiss to the side of your head, his rough hands guiding your hips to slowly start moving again.

“easy…” joel keeps you in his grip and lifts you slowly, allowing you to feel the drag of his thick cock through your wet heat until only just the tip is still inside of you. pulling the most sinful of noises from behind your lips as he helps you descend, pulling you back down until he’s fully seated inside you again, then guiding you to grind down against him, swiveling your hips as they meet his.

KRICKET! KRICKET! KRICKET!

this whole part (and the whole thing of course) had me flawed. on the floor. screaming. crying. gripping the carpet. oh my god! it’s the way how he wants you to take your time. alongside feeling insanely feral, it also made my stomach and heart flutter 🥺 thinking about him being so concerned and focused on your pleasure is something that makes me feel so safe and loved. just him taking such good care of you 🥺 i’m weeping horny tears rn! i love this so much and i love you so much, my love! thank you for indulging me, as always! mwah! 🥹🥰💞💗🫶🏼

“you squeeze the trigger like you love it. gentle, steady, nice and slow.” JOEL MILLER IF YOU DON’T—

sorry i’m rewatching clips of the show and getting so hot and heavy about him rn 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

this contains smut, 18+ minors dni!

SEBBBBBB PLS 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

“gentle, steady, nice and slow” joel miller is a fucking MENACE.

but also….. i can think of another situation where joel tells you to be nice and slow 🤭

you’re sat atop his lap on your plush, comfy couch, your hips straddling his, taking joel’s hard cock in hand and notching him at your entrance. sinking down onto him inch by inch until he’s fully sheathed in your wet, hot center, the both of you groaning in unison as he stretches you open.

your hands find his shoulders and your hips automatically set a quick pace — rising and falling, lifting yourself up and down his cock with fervor, little shallow breaths and moans escaping you as you try and fail to set a steady rhythm, thighs burning as you struggle to hold yourself up for very long.

joel’s large hands reach up to grip your hips, calloused pads of his fingers digging into your skin to halt your movements and keep you in place, fully seated on his length, a sharp moan falling from your lips as he hits the deepest parts of you.

he knows you’re going to tire yourself out too quickly if you try to keep up with the fast pace that you’ve set. and he wants — no, needs — to watch your beautiful, blissed out face as you make yourself cum on his cock.

he keeps you there a few long moments, big hands rubbing soothing circles into the notch of your hips, and you can’t help but squirm at the feeling of him so deep inside of you, so full. a quiet mewl falls from your lips and into the crook of his neck as you bury your face there, begging him.

“joel, please… let me-” trying — and failing — to move your hips under his firm grasp.

he groans deep in his throat as your walls squeeze tight around him, gently squeezing at your hip.

“alright, alright sweetheart.” joel presses a kiss to the side of your head, his rough hands guiding your hips to slowly start moving again.

“easy…” joel keeps you in his grip and lifts you slowly, allowing you to feel the drag of his thick cock through your wet heat until only just the tip is still inside of you. pulling the most sinful of noises from behind your lips as he helps you descend, pulling you back down until he’s fully seated inside you again, then guiding you to grind down against him, swiveling your hips as they meet his.

your foreheads press together and shared moans mingle between parted lips when you feel his tip prodding at that spot deep inside you that makes you see stars. keeping you pressed taut to him as his gruff voice drawls on quietly, puffs of breath warm against your parted lips as he talks you through it.

“gentle, steady. nice and slow.”

i just know joel likes it when you take your time riding him. loves to watch your every expression as you take what you need from him — the way your lips part around wanton moans, brows furrow in concentration, eyes clench shut in bliss. enjoy every little sound of pleasure he can draw from you as you bring yourself closer and closer the edge on his cock 🫠

whewwwww, i need him ! thank you so much for this ask my love, i hope you enjoy my feral 5am joel ramblings hehe 🤭 and i love you so, so, so much!!! 🥰💐💗💛💗💛🌸✨

joel masterlist

[wasdeath]

“   you  know  you  messed  up .   ” thus saith @anqael

the archangel knows, better than this girl might assume, just how much they 'messed up'. crimes were commited, crimes against the most treasured of his creations. angels were not created to remain on earth for too long, to walk this world so brand new for more than a second. the noises, the sounds and smells and feelings overwhelm them, make them slowly descend into madness.

they know they 'messed up'. they know that defacing the body of dabria greene to use as a vessel is a crime far worse than the ones patch has commited. no greater good can possibly excuse such aberration. the human body is a sacred creation of the lord.

'you really fucked up. you, wearing this pretty little blondie as a meat suit is worthy of losing your wings '- patch had laughed as they said it, as if they found it amusing. perhaps because patch knows it won't happen. perhaps because patch knows azrael will have to exist with the notion that they defied god just like patch did until the end of time. 'you were always such a fucking prideful creature, da-bria.'

" i know that. i do not need such an insignificant creature as yourself to remind me of that --" they clutch onto their vessel's head, the poundings drive them insane, everything they see and hear. dabria greene's brain stopped working on a cold winter's night outside a bar. her entire body is functioning solely on divine angelic willpower, " i did it for the greater good. he has to know. my lord has to know. he has to know."

[justabadmistake]

Rex lets out a yell as several people appear around him, quickly walking backward until he hits the wall. “What the fuck…”

One of the Jedi turns to greet him, giving him an ancient, calm smile. “I have always wanted to meet a clone officially.” He holds his hand out, gently shaking Rex’s. “Tarre Vizsla. I suppose, in a way, you are my descendant.”

“Ohhh this is insane,” Rex breathes, studying the other Jedi around him. “Holy shit…”

Upstairs, Anakin looks around and freezes at the sight of two babies on the couch. Two babies that look almost exactly like him. He lets out a stunned noise and hurries over, scooping Luca into his arms as he sits next to Ruhn on the couch.

“H-Hi,” he starts to cry, giving Ruhn a big grin. “Hi… it’s- it’s me it’s daddy… what happened to you boys?”

“Daddy?” Ruhn reaches up to feel his face, “no cry daddy.”

“I’m- I’m sorry I’m just so happy to be here,” he lets out a quiet sob and pulls Ruhn into his side for a tight hug.

I spend a few more minutes simply floating in the Force before attempting to swim my way back out of the nexus, it dropping me roughly on the floor.

“Ow.”

I look up at Rex slowly, the only noticeable difference is a lock of bright white hair framing my face, “did it work?” I ask hoarsely.